#it’s not my fault that the thesaurus is so cool. but yeah that’s when i took attentive off the list shdhdf

[athela-3]

crushing defeat

1.7k words; gen/comedy; hints of shipping if you blink, look here, and look away again; if everyone gives aspec vibes that’s my bad, I have no idea how allos work; 3 am nonsense is practically its own genre; mild language (canon-typical); no content warnings.

Yuki’s never had a crush before. Normally that’s not a problem, but now that he really needs to know what it’s like, nobody else in Mankai can seem to give him a straight answer. And what does cake have to do with anything?

“You. Elite Swindler. What's it like to have a crush?”

Itaru looks up from his phone and finds himself face-to-face with Yuki's inquisitive eyes. “Um.” He blinks, stalling for time while he forces his brain to take a U-turn from his game. “Why do you ask?”

Yuki sighs, swatting aside a strand of hair and tucking it behind his ear. “My character's supposed to be in love, but no matter how many times I try saying my lines it never sounds right. The Director said I should try asking around to get an idea what it's supposed to feel like, and you're sitting right here. So are you going to tell me or not?”

“Huh.” Well, that sounds like something she would do, Itaru concedes. He sits up, placing his phone face down on the sofa next to him. “If I have to describe it, I'd say it's inconvenient. Just because you like someone doesn't mean you'd like liking them. It's kind of like pulling a gacha and getting an SSR. If it's your favourite character, cool, but if it's a character you don't like and you already have three other copies of the exact same card, and now you have to grind all over again… not cool.”

Yuki rolls his eyes, and for a second Itaru thinks he's about to be on the business end of his trademark sarcastic zingers again. “But what is it like? It can't be as sappy as it looks like in Muku's manga.” Beat. Slowly, with dread creeping into his voice: “Is it?”

Itaru opens his mouth to answer, only for a better idea to spring into mind. He cranes his head to look into the kitchen, where Homare is nursing a cup of some fragrant tea blend with a complicated, bougie name. “Hey, Homare? How would you describe the feeling of falling in love?”

There's a brief pause, filled only with Yuki's wide-eyed Oh-No-You-Didn't stare, which Itaru diligently avoids. Then Homare places his teacup on the saucer with a gentle plink and replies, with the absolute certainty of an astronomer looking at the night sky: “Devotion astride with every doki doki… a sugary somnambulism, nefelibata's mazurka of watchfulness, feather-light fingertips painting patient litanies!”

“Exactly.” Itaru grins. “See? It's not that hard.”

Yuki's expression is flat, but Itaru thinks he can see the gears turning inside his head. Eventually he sighs. “Fine. You've made your point.”

“Look, that's all I've got,” Itaru shrugs. “Besides, why don't you ask someone who definitely knows what it's like? Have you tried asking Muku?”

“Duh. He tried to hand me a bunch of romance manga for reference. But that's fiction. If I want my acting to be realistic, I need to look at real life examples.”

“Why not ask Masumi then?”

“And listen to him babble about the Director for the next three hours?”

“Mm. Kazunari?”

“I'm not an idiot. I already asked everyone in my troupe.”

“Tsumugi?”

“I would, but he's not home. Tasuku says he's out tutoring. And before you start, I already asked the Muscle Freak. He mumbled something about high expectations and ran off.”

“Citron?”

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“Taichi?”

“The Dumb Dog? That's… a good idea. Plus I needed to check on his sewing anyway, he's supposed to finish them this—”

“Yo, Taruchi, where are you? Don't just go AFK on me like that!”

They turn to see Banri emerging from the stairwell, phone in hand and an annoyed look in his face. Itaru waves him over at once, relieved to find a potential back-up partner. “Banri! You gotta help me out, man. I need you to describe what having a crush is like.”

Banri stares slack-jawed, caught totally off-guard. “A crush? It's distracting, that's what. I mean, they're all you can think about, right? No matter what you're doing or where you go, you just keep thinkin' about 'em.”

Itaru snaps his fingers. “Right! And you know you've got it bad when you keep finding excuses to be around them. Or when you do weird stuff to get their attention, like giving them things or teasing them or picking fights with them—”

“Why would you pick a fight with someone you like?” Yuki squints, thoroughly unimpressed. “You can't expect them to fight with you and then magically like you back afterwards. That's just stupid.”

“Well,” Itaru grins, “it is.”

“Ah, but such is love!” rejoins Homare, his sentence punctuated by a neat clink as he places his drained teacup in the sink. “Even the greatest of geniuses are fools when it comes to love. Perhaps I should write a poem about that… the overripe ache of tenderness, rotting one's mind even as it enriches the soul…”

Banri shakes his head sharply. “Yeah, whatever. Just get the interrogation done with so we can start the next match.” With that, he marches off into the kitchen, brushing past Homare without a word to fetch a glass of water.

As the poet leaves, still murmuring fancy thesaurus words under his breath, Itaru turns to Yuki and raises his eyebrows. “So? Think you got a better idea now?”

“A little,” Yuki admits. “You're not so useless after all.”

“Huh. I don't know what I expected. Guess I'll take what I can get.”

At that moment, the front door swings open, and in walks Juza, carrying a bag full of groceries in each hand. Behind him is the Director, bearing an identical bag in her arms and pulling the door shut behind her with her foot. “We're home!” she shouts.

“Welcome home, Director, Juza. Whoa, that's a lot of loot today.”

She laughs. “Turned out there was a sale, and since it's important that we save money I thought we might as well stock up ahead. I was lucky Juza came along to help, otherwise I couldn't have carried all of this back alone.”

While she stops by to talk, Juza keeps heading for the kitchen to unpack his groceries, only stopping when he realises his roommate is blocking the way. When it becomes apparent Banri has no intention to step aside, a scowl clouds over his face. “Move.”

A corner of Banri's mouth quirks upward. “Or what? You can't touch me, your hands are full.”

“Don't have to. You can stand there if you want, but the Director won't like it.”

Begrudgingly, Banri inches aside just enough for Juza to squeeze through. When he sees the topmost layer of groceries, he makes a small wolf-whistle. “Three bottles of strawberry milk? What d'you think this is, Hyodo, a damn onsen?”

“Ya gonna stand there babblin', or ya gonna make yourself useful?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Oh, Banri? Since you're already in the kitchen, and you're not doing anything,” the Director chimes in, industrial-grade cheerfulness dripping from her every word, “why don't you help me make dinner?”

Itaru snorts. “Curry duty? Ouch. I'll press F for you later.”

“Actually, tonight is sweet and sour pork. I got a deal on bell peppers, but they have to be eaten quickly,” she tells him, before calling out to Banri: “You can start by washing and chopping them, by the way.”

“The Currian chooses not to make curry?” If Yuki's eyebrows rose any higher, they'd completely disappear behind his fringe. “Did you hit your head on the door coming in?”

“I'm sorry, we can have curry tomorrow if that's what you want,” the Director smiles sweetly, and Itaru wonders if this is what she's like in the office. He tries picturing her giving instructions to her juniors and suggestions to her superiors, all in that inhumanly saccharine tone of voice. The mental image alone gives him the chills. “Oh! How's your role study, Yuki?”

“Eh, it's a work in progress.” He pauses, eyeing her with a slight squint. Oh, no, Itaru thinks, here we go again. “But now that you're here, why don't you tell me what you think a crush is like?”

“Me? I haven't had a crush since…” her voice trails off. She walks to the kitchen, places her groceries on the counter, and starts unpacking them alongside Juza. “I don't remember. What I do remember is that when you've fallen in love with someone, you want them to be happy. You remember the little things they like and don't like, because there's no feeling like seeing them smile and knowing it's because of you, or something you did. If they're happy, you're happy. But if they're upset about something, then you feel bad too, even if it wasn't your fault.”

Yuki hums a wordless acknowledgement, face scrunched in thought. “And you?”

Silence. After a few seconds, Juza looks up from the cabinet he is currently stuffing with raw pasta. “…Me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. Who else?” Banri snorts. “Oi, gimme the pineapple. I can't find it in this mess.”

“Didn't get any.”

“What, so we're making sweet and sour pork without pineapple? Who eats sweet and sour pork without—” Realisation dawns in his eyes. He blinks, as if startled, glances at the Director, and looks away again. “Oh. Huh. Well, that's interesting.”

“Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Settsu?”

“None of your business. Now answer the damn question already so we can cook in peace.”

“We ain't cooking, you are,” Juza points out. “An' I dunno.”

“You don't know?” Yuki presses impatiently. “Or you're not telling?”

“Dunno. Never had a crush.”

“Tch. Of course you've never liked anyone. All you like is cake.”

Itaru nods comprehendingly, shooting up in his seat. ”Banri's got a point, you know, the cake does kind of give it away. Bet you also like dragons.”

“Wait,” Yuki interjects, “what's cake got to do with anything?”

“You don't know?” Itaru twists to face the boy completely. “Aw, man. I thought you of all people would know. Do you like cake?”

“What does it matter?”

“C'mon, it's just a yes or no question!”

“They're OK? I'm not that big on sweets, but I like the really pretty cakes. Especially the ones with edible flowers on top.”

“The real question is,” Banri looks up from the cutting board and points the knife at Yuki, “would you rather fall in love or eat cake?”

“What kinda stupid question is that?” Juza mutters, still playing grocery Tetris with the cabinet and therefore completely missing the death glare Banri sends his way.

“Shut your cakehole, nobody asked you.”

Yuki's brows furrow, and Itaru notices his eyes flickering to Juza before he settles on a reply. “If I had to choose, I guess I'd choose cake. Having a crush sounds so exhausting. Besides, I know what cake's like, so I know what I'm getting myself into.”

Itaru claps his hands together, triumphant. “See? Congratulations, you're Team Cake! Don't worry about the dragons, we'll get there when you’re ready.”

“But what does any of it have to do with—you know what, forget it.” Yuki throws his hands into the air, mere millimetres away from clocking Itaru's head. “I should've asked someone who knows what they're talking about. You guys are hopeless.” With that, he turns on his heels and makes his exit, presumably off to interview the next hapless sap to cross his path.

“Good luck!” the Director calls out.

Itaru shakes his head. “And here I thought we'd get more affinity points than that,” he mutters. “Talk about being hard to please.”

“Don't blame him, it is a tough subject to crack,” she points out. “Oh, does that mean you're free right now? In that case, can you please make some rice while I get the pork ready?”

“Welp. Is this a mandatory quest?” She nods, and he sighs, slowly stretching to his feet and pocketing his phone. “All right. But you owe me cake. All this talk's got me craving a slice.”

“I'll grab you some tomorrow, how's that sound?”

Banri's head snaps up again. “Hey, if he gets cake for helping, then how come I don't?”

“You don't even like cake,” Juza grumbles.

“I’m just sayin’, it ain’t fair. And don’t pretend you don’t want some.”

She reaches past them to grab the packet of pork on the table and laughs. “All you had to do was ask. You know what? I'll get you cake. Both of you.” She pauses to scratch her chin. “Come to think about it, maybe I should just get a nice big cake for everyone to share. I've got a feeling we're all gonna need it come tomorrow.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Glitch in the Thought Process (standalone, lemon)

Summary: This, Stretch knew, was a horrible idea. But even bad ideas can have the best results.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Lemon Goodness, Fluff, Humor, First Times

Notes:  A short standalone smutty spicyhoney story for y'all, with an extra helping of bad ideas. But hey, even bad ideas can have the best results.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

This was a horrible idea.

A horrible, awful idea. Terrible, no good, awful, dig out a thesaurus and go to town because it was so bad—

“oh!” Stretch whimpered, trying to muffle it with both his hands as Edge nuzzled at his pubic symphysis, his breath teasingly hot. A terrible idea, because his bro was downstairs, with Red and Sans and Papyrus, all of them gathered for what was supposed to be a little party. For their seven-month anniversary of meeting, according to Papyrus, and yeah, it was always fun to hang out at the Tale brothers house, movies and madness, that wasn’t a bad way to spend an evening.

Only, when the food started coming out, somehow Stretch ended up with a lapful of ‘whore devours’ as Red called them. He still wasn’t quite sure if it was the food or the plate that caused the mini-explosion, just that he was glad he only got hit by the edible part of the shrapnel.

Edge was supposedly helping him clean up, even offering to let Stretch borrow the pair of pants he kept in his inventory, and that was all. If Stretch could manage to squeeze his pelvis into the ass clamps that Edge liked to wear, anyway. Took a shimmy and a prayer, but he got them on, fly zipped and all. That should’ve been it, a couple minutes to clean out the nooks and crannies and they should’ve been back downstairs waiting to see what kind of damage dinner was gonna cause.

Only, when he finished struggling with the zipper, he’d glanced up, caught sight of Edge in the mirror and the look in Edge’s eye lights kinda took Stretch off-guard. Like glowing coals in the darkness of his sockets and when he licked his teeth, the bright crimson of his tongue against ivory pale, Stretch was already giving in, raise that white flag, captain, his self-control was calling for a surrender.

His fault, really. Probably Stretch should have thought it through a little before dropping trou right in front of Edge, all things considered. They’d been on a couple of dates now, all of them ending with lingering kisses and heavy breathing, but not much else, aside from some seriously wet dreams. Now they were in the Tale brother’s bathroom together, alone, and Edge was looking at him like he was gonna skip the appetizers and head right for the main course.

Edge was wearing dark fingerless gloves, the slender whiteness of his phalanges exposed, and he met Stretch's gaze in the mirror as he reached out with a single long finger to trace the broad curve of Stretch’s iliac crest peeking over that tight waistband, teasing the sensitive bone.

That was it, that one touch, and how that ended up with Edge on his knees in front of him, eager hands pushing his stained shirt up, Stretch didn’t know. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, and there was a palm resting flat against his rib cage, body-warmed leather against the sleek bones there and Stretch was quivering before Edge even had those damned pants open again, his magic already forming a cock, the shaft hard and eager for whatever Edge wanted to give him.

Stretch watched as Edge leaned in, sockets closed as he breathed in deeply, mouth open as if to taste the air between them. Stupidly, Stretch blurted out, “sorry, i probably stink, there was enough garlic in those things to give dracula a migraine from two streets away.”

“I don’t care,” Edge murmured, and he leaned in again, let the tip of Stretch’s cock brush his cheek bone and leave a pale orange smear of wetness behind, holy fuck, “and you don’t. you smell like you.”

“what do i smell like?” Stretch whispered. Lavender, maybe, from the soap Blue always bought, or sweat, he’d showered that morning but that was hours ago, the bitterness of his cigarettes, the sweet taint of his own magic…?

Edge’s grin was a slash of sharp white teeth, his voice the satisfied rumble of an old tom cat lapping up a dish of fresh cream as he said, “Delicious.”

Fuck.

Hot breath was a bare touch against the delicate bones of his pubis, ticklishly gusting along with the barest scrape of his teeth as Edge whispered, "Hold still."

And Stretch had to cram a hand against his mouth, holding it there with the other as he bit down on a bony knuckle. He hadn't known what to expect, tried not to consider what it might be like. He hadn’t jerked off thinking about it, even though he’d wanted, fuck, he wanted. But he sure as fuck hadn't thought Edge would be experienced.

And he was, had to be, no fumbling touches or uncertain flicks of tongue. Edge took his shaft in deeply, swallowed him down with only the faintest graze of sharp teeth drawing out a tantalizing shiver rather than a muttered protest. Stretch bit his finger harder, muffling the throaty cry that tried to escape as Edge sucked him, cheek bones hollowing as he drew Stretch into the hot wetness of his mouth.

The hands on his pelvis shifted, fingers spreading wider and Stretch dimly realized it was to hold him down even as he unconsciously strained against them, trying to push in deeper still. With a sharp breath through his nasal cavity, Stretch managed to relax back, sagging against the wall. He nearly moaned aloud as Edge hummed his approval, the vibration rumbling through his cock and straight up his spine. Oh, all the blessed days, there were times in the past when he’d thought sex might be the end of him, but he'd never dreamed it might happen like this. Standing here with harsh fluorescent lights overhead, reflecting off the gleaming white porcelain as Edge moaned eagerly while sucking him off.

With an effort, Stretch managed to pry his sockets open, squinting down and his struggle had its reward. Crimson eye lights, half-hidden by heavy lids met his own and Stretch could not be mesmerized by that gaze. Not when confronted with the sight of Edge's mouth stretched around his dick, long, flexible tongue curled around the shaft. He stared helplessly as Edge took him down in a deep, wet suck, watched the length of his cock slide between those teeth in a deliberate rhythm.

Cool air made him wince as he was abruptly released, but the automatic protest was cut off mid-whine and Stretch watched, sockets achingly wide as Edge playfully licked at the tip, tongue dipping beneath foreskin to tease, and he could never have imagined, not in the filthiest of never-confessed dreams. Another flick of tongue, lapping at the honeyed fluid jewel beading at the tip and wetting Edge's teeth, and then he was taken again. Deep into his formed throat, the hot, lovely slickness of Edge's mouth surrounding him, the curve of his tongue against the underside and Stretch had to close his sockets, had to concentrate on muffling the sounds that were being driven out of him because he could not, could not, be heard. If the others heard, the others would come looking and if they came looking, the others would see and Edge would stop, he would, and Stretch bit his own tongue hard enough to taste the sweet blurt of his magic because he couldn't, could not stop—

The problem with keeping quiet was Stretch had no way to offer a warning, nothing past a sharp, quick inhale as he shook and trembled and toppled over the peak into the exquisite pleasure that Edge's mouth was offering him. Dimly, he felt Edge startle, and then Stretch could feel nothing but the sweet pulse of coming over that soft tongue, any guilt fluttering off on pleasure-soaked wings along with whatever was left of his dignity, and oh, by all the little heavens, he could feel Edge swallowing around him, the quick flickers of tongue against him as every thick droplet was lapped up.

If his knees were truly as weak as they felt, then the only thing keeping Stretch from sagging to the ground was the hands on his hips, holding him firmly up. Between that and the wall, Stretch managed to keep his feet, offering only a soft whimper as Edge finally released him, offering a last tender kiss before tucking Stretch’s softening cock back into his too-tight pants even as he licked his come-smeared teeth clean.

Holy flying monkey fuck, Stretch needed a cigarette. Maybe a little nicotine would slow down his scattered wits enough for him to pick them up again.

It was only when Edge looked up at him again, a sly smile curving his still-damp mouth, that Stretch managed to find words, husking them out around his bitten tongue as he admitted, "so…uh…i don’t think i can walk right now. fuck, i'm trying to remember how to breathe."

Edge's grin widened, "And yet you’re still not at a loss for words. That would have been high praise, indeed."

"only because i can talk without permission from my brain," Stretch mumbled, wetting his teeth with a nervous flick of his tongue, "might have to gag me if you want me speechless."

A rough chuckle sent a gust of warm breath to caress his pelvis where his sweatshirt was still riding up around Edge’s hands curved around his pelvis. Those hands shifted, petting gently, "I’d be happy to accept that invitation."

"invi—" Stretch began and only then realized just what he'd said, "hey, wait a min—ute!" The word was bitten off as those supporting hands abandoned him and he promptly slid down the wall, straight into the lap of the skeleton who’d been kneeling at his feet. "erm, hello?" Stretch added, inanely, and again his brain abandoned him, left him staring dumbly straight on at Edge when only a moment ago he'd been looking down.

"Hello," Edge's voice carried that simple word, just a tiny, foolish greeting into a deep rumble that sent a shiver through Stretch and honestly, was he so easy that a single word seduced him?

Yeah, he decided, as Edge's mouth covered his own in an oddly tender kiss, stealing away any other idiocy that might try to escape. Yeah, he was pretty damned seduced, by the too-hot press of Edge's faintly swollen tongue against his own, by the sweet taste of his own come carried with it, by the heavy groan that was muffled between them, the kiss shifting from tender to eager.

Stretch supposed he could forgive himself for that much. He figured most people would be seduced by any one of those things, never mind them all mixed together.

With a mouth over his own, any sounds that might bubble up and out were effectively blocked and Stretch gave into a long-held wistful urge, cupping Edge’s head in his palms, running shaky fingers over his skull as if he could read the future there.

Even if he’d been a fortune teller, the only fate that interested him just now was how the night was gonna end, and the firm shaft he could feel straining against the front of Edge’s own too-tight pants told him more than any little bumps under his fingertips.

"we…we should…" Stretch began, a touch breathlessly, struggling for words between kisses. They should go somewhere else, somewhere that every little sound couldn't be heard and known and teased about later. They could hardly manage more in a damned bathroom and—

"bro?"

From through the door and both of them froze, Stretch's scream of frustration never made it past his mind. That was certainly a voice he knew and had it been Sans or Papyrus or Blue or any other damned person sneaking in from the streets of Snowdin, he would have suggested a hasty shortcut. But this name was Wednesday’s child full of woe, ‘cause Red was not one who would give up a search, not when it came to his brother.

From the low, vicious curse Edge let out, he was thinking the same thing and he pushed Stretch hastily to his feet, the both of them fumbling to straighten their clothes. If Edge gave Stretch's crotch a quick brush off with rough fingers, then Stretch's hasty scrub of his sleeve over Edge's mouth was probably more acceptable than leaving any stray smears of honey-orange behind.

They were both more or less presentable when heavy boots gave the door a pointed kick and Stretch snapped off the overhead light, hoping that the dimness would hide anything they missed as the knob slowly turned.

"there you are," Red grunted as he shouldered through the door, "why the fuck are you two lurkin’ in the dark? trying to roll for backstabbin’?"

“think that’s more your skill tree,” Stretch said, relieved to hear he sounded mostly normal, and he really hoped Red left it at that, ‘cause the real reason they were hiding in dark corners would probably get them at least a years’ worth of ribbing. Possibly literally.

"Did you need something?" Edge asked impatiently, teeth gritted and at least his annoyance was a decent disguise.

"yeah, blue’s kickin’ up a fuss about servin’ up the main course. told ‘im i’d find ya," Red shrugged, oblivious to the smoldering heat in Edge's glare. "i'd tell ‘em yer both alive and kickin’, but they might wanna look-see themselves if ya don't come on down.”

Edge heaved a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nasal cavity with his thumb and forefinger, "Very well, tell them I—"

"oh, there's ain’t no hurry, little brother," Red interrupted. His jacket creaked as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. "i'll just wait for the two of ya to finish your chat and we can head back together, the three of us."

Yeaaaah, that was a knowing look, wasn't it. Stretch looked very firmly at the ground, ignoring the high heat rising in his cheek bones. He risked a glance up and found Edge and Red engaged in a very impressive, silent contest of glaring and wriggling brow bones, with Edge's fury ever hotter and Red's equally unimpressed.

A loud sigh from Edge was his only clue as to who finally triumphed, and Edge's hand was gentle at the small of Stretch’s spine as he gathered him up.

"Come on," he grumbled, casting a last angry look Red’s way. The shorter skeleton offered a sharp grin in return, gold tooth flashing, and the three of them started walking back downstairs, following the merry sound of laughter, and if Edge’s stride was a little stiff, Stretch really hoped they attributed it to those pants.

"next time, ya might wanna wait to sneak off after dinner," Red murmured, "they’ll miss ya less, just save some room for dessert.”

“Thank you ever so much for the advice," Edge ground out and if glares and sharp words could wound, Red might collapse to dust right at their feet.

“couldn't have gone back without ya, bro,” Red offered calmly. "if it’s gonna piss ya off, don’t give me a reason to come lookin’ again.”

"we won't," Stretch said, softly, and both brothers paused, eyeing him, though Red's look was considering and Edge's bordered on stricken. "i mean, we'll…be more careful. next time."

"good to hear," Red said heartily, and matched it with a slap on the ass that nearly sent Stretch sprawling and earned him a low growl from Edge. "now, let’s get back before your bro comes lookin’. brothers can get kinda protective when they ain’t sure what their bro is getting up ta.”

"You would know," Edge sniped and only got a chuckle for his spite.

A horrible idea, Stretch sighed mentally as he followed them, pasting on what he hoped was an innocent smile for his brother, or, lacking that, at least a sheepishly apologetic one. A terrible, no-good very bad idea.

Yeah. He really couldn’t wait to see what other ideas Edge came up with.

-finis-

[ogkunty]

Furcadia Toxicity

The complete log file is provided, everything here is unedited, this all transpired publicly and should be available for everyone to have access to at all times. Thank you. (19:14:03) Tacada: watching the riot police going (19:14:21) Kixy: Protesting doesn't do anything. (19:14:23) Kunty: Nah, tell people to spend time with their fucking families they keep trying to ride dicks/cunts out of (19:14:23) Tacada: theyre taking the hong kong approach the protestors. using cones n water to stop tear gas nades (19:14:32) Kunty: they riot if quarantined. (19:14:33) Ditty: god (19:14:37) Ditty: turned out as expected (19:14:45) Ditty: Kixy: People will make a bigger stink out of not being called the correct pronoun than anything important. (19:14:48) Ditty: so peoples pronouns are important (19:14:52) Ditty: not sure why you have to bring that into this lmao (19:14:58) Puffin: ^^^^^^ (19:15:01) Ditty: Maya: Just offer free heroin and meth, you'll see enough people. (19:15:02) Ditty: so thats gross (19:15:07) Ditty: not sure why you have to bring that into this either (19:15:08) Kunty: IDC about pronouns, why is that even a thing? (19:15:09) Kixy: The point was that people get more angry over stupid shit than anything serious? (19:15:15) Ditty: pronouns are not stupid shit (19:15:19) Kunty: They are (19:15:21) Kixy: Yes they are. (19:15:27) Puffin: Riots are the language of the unheard, fam (19:15:29) Kixy: Compared to SO SO many things. (19:15:34) Ditty: why do we have to compare (19:15:39) Ditty: peoples identities are extremely important (19:15:41) Ditty: you cant rank it among other things (19:15:54) Ditty: did you know humans have the capacity to care about multiple things at once or are furcadians not able to do that (19:15:55) Tacada: sorry ditty i started all of this O.O (19:15:57) Kunty: I agree with Kixy, pronouns are NOT important in comparison to riots, killings, and corona. (19:16:03) Ditty: why are we comparing them (19:16:06) Ditty: answer the question

SEE THE REST WITH THIS LINK TO THE HTML LOG FILE

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The Devil’s Den Discord Meanwhile... Yes, you may Join.

/6:33 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: IMAGINE SEXUALLY HARASSING PEOPLE AND BEING TRANSPHOBIC AS FUCK ON FUCADIA [6:34 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: LITERALLY JUST FOR ATTENTION [6:34 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: WHO FAILED YOU [6:35 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: JK ITS YOUR OWN FUCKIN FAULT [6:35 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: "THE DEVIL'S DEN" THIS IS SOME SERIOUSLY TEEENY EDGELORD SHIT [6:35 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: ESPECIALLY WITH YOUR GROSS RAPE FANTASY THESAURUS-FUCKING DESCRIPTION [6:36 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: UNAPOLOGETIC SEXUAL HARASSERS SHOULD BE SHOT [6:39 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: jesus your discord server is dead as fuck [6:39 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: small wonder you have no friends [6:39 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: you are human garbage(edited) [6:43 PM] Hellcat: I'm here to fuck ass [6:44 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: its completely dead its no use [6:44 PM] Hellcat: Plague queens are my fetish tho [6:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: im here to fuck ass and fuck bubblegum [6:45 PM] Hellcat: Who failed you lmfao [6:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: yeah i had to rethink that cuz that'd mean it's someone else's fault [6:46 PM] Hellcat: It smells like poop and semen [6:47 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: as expected [6:55 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: [REDACTED] just thought yall should know your friend is a gross transphobe who repeatedly talked about my partner's genitals after being asked not to [6:55 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: and also claimed corona was a good thing because the world needs a "plague" [6:55 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: attention seeking teen edgelord bullshit [6:56 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: could only respond with "k" when it was brought up [7:08 PM] Ill: ? [7:09 PM] Ill: Logs please @Xzfgiiimtsath#6669(edited) [7:11 PM] Ill: It is without saying that unless evidence is provided, everything else is simply hearsay. I’m sorry to say that, without visible proof of this outrageous claim, you’re kind of just making empty accusations and slanderous character bashing. ): [REDACTED]  [7:12 PM] Ill: Oh, I guess they just wanted to troll. ): I’m sorry, hopefully this can be cleaned up. [7:28 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: OH HI [7:28 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: JUST ASK HER SHE WONT DENY IT [7:28 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: she was pretty proud of it on furc [7:28 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: i can post logs but judging from your response to that you'd just say i'd edited them lol [7:29 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: is it really hard to believe that she'd say something like that? seems pretty in-character for her [7:31 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: i mean you guys jerk it to beast porn tho i dont have high hopes for any moral outrage here [7:31 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: but if there were any trans people in the server id def want them to know [7:33 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: she was shit-talking people who care about their pronouns [7:33 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: my partner, who is trans, tries to explain to them what's wrong with that [7:35 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: then Kunty's response is to repeatedly talk about not wanting to hear about their genitals(?) which has nothign to do with pronouns and wasnt part of the conversation [7:35 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: when asked to stop talking about their genitals she continues unabated just to piss them off(edited) [7:36 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: you can choose to believe im just making this up for no reason if you want, but that would be really fucking brickheaded of you [7:37 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: care more about your shitty transphobic friend repeatedly who was bringing up my partners genitals randomly and without their consent(edited) [7:37 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: @ill [7:40 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: again, 0 hopes for you response, youre a fantasy animal r*pe enthusiast who says things like, "It is without saying that unless evidence is provided," [7:40 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: holy fuck get your head out of your ass [7:41 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: but ill STILL warn you of your transphobic friend since judging on your art youre lgbtq+ [7:43 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: are you just gonna wait til i leave again to respond? figures [7:44 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: you didnt even ask them about it, just "NO EVIDENCE SO ITS FAKE" [7:44 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: you'd really go that far to defend this person when you have no idea what happened? [7:44 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: god you fucking suck [7:44 PM] Ill: Okay but [7:44 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: but nothing [7:44 PM] Ill: You are actively here [7:44 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: wow youre a fuckin genius or something eh [7:44 PM] Ill: Why are you being aggressive? [7:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: because im pissed [7:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: obviously [7:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: stupid question [7:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: why are you deflecting [7:45 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: and defending your transphobic friend for no god damn reason [7:46 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz [7:46 PM] Ill: Okay, I understand that you are in an emotional state right now, but I would really need you to calm down first before coming off on a rage to people that have no idea what you are upset over. [7:46 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: ? [7:46 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: read my post dumbass [7:46 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: then you'd know [7:46 PM] Ill: No [7:46 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: LOL [7:47 PM] Ill: Here is why [7:47 PM] Ill: The stupidest things we say are said out of Anger. [7:47 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: are you legit like 14 [7:47 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: im wasting my time [7:47 PM] Ill: I will advise you a little more directly that you take time to calm down before you come venting. [7:48 PM] Ill: No, I am asking you to be an adult [7:48 PM] Ill: And not a raging tween with a hormone spike [7:48 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: said the literal child who thinks having emotions means "not being an adult" [7:48 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: lmfao [7:48 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: not being pissed about transphobia is a character flaw [7:48 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: work on it bitch [7:48 PM] Ill: I emphasize with your anger, I am not saying it is wrong to have them [7:48 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: emphasize with my anger [7:49 PM] Ill: I am saying that you are abusing everyone else for things we have no knowledge or control over [7:49 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: what the fuck are you talking about [7:49 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: im warning you about your transphobic friend and youre being a piece of shit about it [7:50 PM] Ill: You are acting like a child, I’ve been there and done that - it does not end well. Please take time to self care for yourself first so you can be an adult that can have a calm conversation [7:50 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: and you also fantasize about r*ping animals so again: 0 hope for you to have any concept of why things are wrong [7:50 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: total fucking human garbage [7:50 PM] Xzfgiiimtsath: [8:05 PM] Ill: I am going to go step away before I address this further, I am losing some patience very quickly. I am kindly asking you to do the same so that you may take time to care for yourself during this clearly highly emotional state you are in. Maybe sip some cool water, dab your cheeks with ice, and/or take a moment with a loved one that makes you feel safe. I do not know what else to recommend here, I do not assume ignorance right away when meeting people, and I would like to think that other people can also step back to rationalize themselves down from tensions like these. I call this being an adult, growing up enough to get beyond yelling and throwing every accusation at someone simply because you’re angry. Accepting that it could be possible there is a grave misunderstanding, or maybe even misinterpretation of intent/meaning. As a person that never gets these opportunities to rationalize issues away from pure misunderstood hatred, I have never seen the actual outcome. In the adult world here, if we are angry with someone that offended us, we can’t just go into their family bbq and be screaming like lunatics about how their goat fuckers based solely on our interpretations, either. That would lead to calling the police... it doesn’t get you anywhere ... not in the adult world. You need to stop and care for yourself before you come guns blazing. You don’t DO this in the adult world and then call the adults staring at you like a tantruming toddler “children” because they won’t feed your anger. I’m sorry, for whatever it is you feel WE did to you specifically. You came here, though and whatever your assumptions are, I understand that there is no arguing with you or reasoning with you beyond you are the victim of some unproven atrocity. 

- Xzfgiiimtsath#6669 - Hellcat#0186

(19:15:15) Ditty: pronouns are not stupid shit (19:15:19) Kunty: They are (19:15:21) Kixy: Yes they are.

[reddragdiva]

White Feelings: 0-60 for Charlottesville

reprinted from http://www.erynnbrook.com/white-feelings-for-charlottesville/

contains actual clickable links for things to do instead of just sitting there feeling horrified

by Erynn Brook

Charlottesville is a fucking mess. So here it is: your 0-60 speed-run through your white feelings to get you on board… In no particular order.

Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening. It is. I’m sorry.

Oh my god, this is just so awful. It is.

I can’t believe this is real. It. Fucking. Is.

How did this happen? Because you haven’t been listening.

I’m not racist. Then fucking prove it.

I’ve tried to help in the past but I just feel so lost. This is because you’re thinking on an individual level. White people are a group and you are a part of that group.

There’s nothing I can do to help. Amplify. Speak out. Follow the voices on the ground. Denounce white supremacy.

I don’t know how to do that. Like this: “What’s happening in Charlottesville is because of us, white folks. It’s because we haven’t been accountable. It’s because we haven’t collected our own people. It’s because we haven’t faced our history and our complacency in this system. People are dying and I’m not standing for it anymore. Not in my name. Racism must be called out, named and abolished. White supremacy must be denounced. Nazis must be stopped.”

But what will people think of me? They’ll think you’re not quite as racist as the people with tiki torches but slightly more racist than the people getting run over by cars in counter-protest.

Oh my god, I feel so guilty. That’s because you’re thinking on an individual level. There isn’t time right now to educate you on all the systemic issues, but trust that this is not all your fault personally, but it is your fault if you personally don’t do anything.

I can’t get into a fight on the internet, I never know what to say. Then disable comments on your post and get on with your life. Or leave the comments on so you can weed out who’s a problem on your friends list.

I believe in peace. Then start acting like it. Peace does not happen by ignoring hatred and violence.

Why can’t we all just get along? Because people, including you, keep ignoring the problems and not addressing them directly.

I’m scared. You should be.

I just want life to go back to normal. Your normal was what led to this. Things cannot go back, I’m sorry that you’re uncomfortable now, but this is the reality that people of color have been living with forever. There is no normal.

I don’t want to say the wrong thing. Saying nothing is the wrong thing. You might mess up your wording, you might not be clear. But say something, say anything. Silence is violence.

How can we come together? I don’t know. I don’t think we can, and we can’t think about that right now. We can’t come together until we know who the sides are, and you standing in the middle isn’t helping.

I’m frozen. I’m helpless. No you’re not. You’re on the internet. Entire revolutions have been fought on the internet. Get connected and listen to what is being asked of you.

I’m praying for the people in Charlottesville. That’s nice. Ever hear the story of the man in the flood, sitting on his roof and praying for God to save him? Go google it, then do something after you’re done praying.

What do I tell my children? You tell them there are people in this world who hate other people for the color of their skin and you are not okay with that.

I’m shaking, I’m nauseous, what is going on? That’s probably anger. Get into it, it’ll help fuel you. It’s not evil, it’s a tool. Anger cannot be willed away, it is an outward emotion that requires action.

I feel like I’m just cycling through. That’s normal. That’s the spiral. You’ll go through guilt, shame, anger, relief, over and over again. That’s normal. None of these feelings are here for a moment then gone forever. And the longer you push them down the more intense they become and the less you learn about how to deal with them.

Maybe this will all just blow over. Maybe, maybe not. Be like the scouts and be prepared.

I feel really targeted with all this talk of white people. I know. You’ll get used to it. It won’t always paralyze you.

Something about Martin Luther King Jr. Shhhh. SHHHHHH. No.

I want to say something eloquent and intelligent. Use a thesaurus. Just say something.

This is so overwhelming. Focus. One thing at a time. Right now we want to help counter-protesters in Charlottesville. We’ll get to the big picture stuff later.

Okay, so what’s the first thing I can do? Denounce white supremacy publicly, on all your social media accounts.

What’s the second thing I can do? Donate here. https://fundly.com/solidarity-c-ville-7-8-anti-racist-legal-fund

What’s the third thing I can do? Donate here. Black Women Being will provide funds to individuals on the ground. https://www.safetypinbox.com/donate

What’s the fourth thing I can do? Donate here. Nice White Ladies has an emergency fund that is directly available to community organizers. https://www.nicewhiteladies.com/reparations

What’s the fifth thing I can do? Get on Twitter and Facebook and ask your friends to donate as well.

What’s the sixth thing I can do? Donate to BLM Charlottesville, they are on the ground. https://www.paypal.me/blmcville

What if I don’t have money? Get on Twitter and Facebook and start amplifying voices. Keep your feelings out of it, keep focused on taking action.

Oh god this whole thing makes me sick, I just want to hide. Don’t. This discomfort is normal. You can do something about it. You should not feel normal today.

Okay, what else can I do? If you feel like you need more education on anti-black racism, sign up for Safety Pin Box.

I feel so far away from everything. Contact your local Black Lives Matter chapter and follow them.

I just want to know how we can fix all this? We’ll get there, but we can’t give you the big picture right now because it’s not an easy fix. We need people like you doing smaller steps. This isn’t a linear path. There will be many things to do.

Who are you to tell me this? You can read through this blog to find out or go to Nice White Ladies to learn more about what I do.

I’m supposed to listen to the voices of people of color. Yes you are.

You’re white. Yes I am.

Why should I listen to you? Because you’re in your feelings and it’s my job to collect you and keep that emotional labor from people of color who are fighting on the front lines. The people being pepper-sprayed right now don’t have the time to talk you through your guilt.

White people doing anti-racism work are problematic. Yep, a lot of them are.

I went to an anti-racism workshop once and I think you’re doing this wrong. That’s cool, please go do it your way. We really just need more people standing up right now. I don’t care how you do it.

What’s the best course of action for allyship? This is not about giving you a sticker. Don’t try to be the best ally. Just be present, do something, do anything. If you’ve done nothing because you’re worried about being the best, then you’re a bigger problem than someone who’s trying but messing up.

What do I do when someone corrects me? Say “thank you” and apply the correction. It’s not about you, it’s about what’s working and what’s not.

I have so many thoughts and feelings about this. Please do not unpack them publicly. There are spaces for that.

I believe in non-violence. Non-violence is a privilege to those who are not being directly subjected to violence.

These alt-right people are all just basement dwellers and trolls. They’re not. They’re your friends and family. Your cousins. Your neighbours. They are everywhere and you need to make your position clear.

This is all Trump’s fault. These people didn’t materialize because of Trump. They’ve been empowered by him and his rhetoric. Do not waste time pointing fingers at Trump.

It feels unpatriotic to criticize free speech. What is the line between free speech and terrorism? Everyone must decide that for themselves, don’t just recycle someone else’s talking points without thinking it through.

My parent/sibling/partner/friend is one of these alt-right supporters, how do I bring them around? First, accept that you may not be able to. That doesn’t mean you can’t challenge them on it, it means you have to set boundaries for yourself. Decide what is acceptable and what is not, and don’t bend on your limits.

What can I do to protect myself? Enable two factor authentication on your social media. Also – start training. I suggest Krav Maga. Of course if you used to twirl batons back in the day, you’re halfway towards being Morgan from The Walking Dead. Because when it comes to your town, you’re going to stand up.

This could never happen in my town. Really? There’s another white supremacist rally planned for Seattle tomorrow.

I just want someone to tell me what to do. Scroll up, start over.

I’m really scared. Yeah. That’s normal.

This isn’t America. Actually, it is. If you imagine a different America then get out there and build it.

I’m angry about this. FUCKING GOOD.

No I mean really angry. That’s right! Get angry!

RAAHHHH! FUCK YOU NAZI SCUM! Yes! Go! Fly my pretties! Fly! FLY!

[hawthornandvxne]

FRICK im always 10 yrs late to these things forgive

tagged by the fabulous @colubrina

rules: answer the questions and tag 20 blogs you’d like to get to know better!

nicknames: alyss, occasionally. literally nobody gives me nicknames man

star sign: leo

height: 5'3ish

time right now: 10:11 am

last thing I googled: 'frivolity synonym’ freaking 90% of my searches are me being too lazy to grab a thesaurus i ha te

fave music artist: like just one?? one??? ONE?? no clue

song stuck in my head: i ran cover by hidden citizens

last movie i watched: nanny mcphee

last tv show i watched: agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.

what i’m wearing now: leggings and a sweatshirt

when i created this blog: hell if i know!! edit: i looked it up. it was june 2015 i’m so much more of a young un’ than i recall??

the kind of stuff i post: hp/fantastic beasts, with a smattering of the lovely faces behind some lovely blogs and also sometimes my personal garbage

do i have other blogs: ye, my primary is @grvngersmalfoy (go follow my trash dump guys)

do i get asks regularly: not anymore which is my fault for being Inactive Crap

why did i choose my url: this was originally a dramione blog and is still v v dramione friendly so (in case you don’t know, hawthorn = draco’s wand type, vine = hermione’s, both = a magnificent dramione fanfic site aka dramione.org)

gender: female

hogwarts house: gryffindor ALL the way

pokemon team: never played pokemon of any kind oops

fave colours: purple and black. kinda green, if it’s a soft green.

average hours of sleep: like 7

lucky number: idk

favourite characters: R U READY GUYS okay i’ll try to keep it to less than 5 pages so hermione granger, draco malfoy, remus lupin, rey, kylo ren, fitzwilliam darcy, kaz brekker, inej ghafa, katniss everdeen, jane eyre, zuko, katara, jo march, anne shirley. yeah i... think i’ll stop there.

dream job: famous novelist ahh!! unrealistic goals amirite!!

number of blankets i sleep with: 2 in winter, 1 in summer

following: 635

and imma tag @dramione-vincet-semper (10 yrs later yeah!! why don’t we ever talk!!), @weasleyey, @hexrmionegranger (both also after 10 yrs of being mutuals why am i like this), @agenthobbit-in-hufflepuff, @pureblud, @regulusblxcks, @ladyleanam, @bookishandbossy, @essthedreamer, @malfoybellamy, @ginnxweasley, @alrightevans, @ginnywheezy, @airenmurasaki (you have no idea how long it took me to think of ur FRICKIN USERNAME GOSH i was just like ‘who did the cool dramione art WHO DID IT), @jamespctterr, @deadmalfoys, @professorlockhart, @malfxoys, @wlweasley, and @nxrcissamxlfoy

[magmasliveblogs]

1.04 R

im back! sorry for the short hiatus after i said i would start regular posting again, classes are starting up again and frankly its been just as hectic as i remember. recap! last chapter erin played chess  against 100 antinium in a hive mind and gained a green skill! those are unique. 

as this is a ryoka chapter i will reiterate that i frankly cant stand perusa and wont be putting those sections in this except for notable moments. 

Ow.

Fuck.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ouch. Ow.

This is why painkillers were invented. Damn it. Stop moving.

Flip the page.

It’s hot. Why can’t people invent air conditioning in this stupid world already? And the common room of an inn is not the best place to read in peace. But it beats sitting in my room and listening to drunk people banging down the hall or having sex.

This is why I hate people.

well someone woke up on the right side of the bed today. but less sarcasm will reveal that the last time we saw ryoka perusa caused her leg to be broken via cart sooooooooo

Okay. Focus. Ignore them. What does it say?

‘…The incursion of the Antinium hives into the southern region of the continent led to the bloody year-long war known as the Incursion War, or more generally, the First Antinium War, in which hundreds of thousands of Antinium soldiers established huge colonies across the southern plains, razing cities and forcing Gnoll tribes to retreat into the lower plains regions.

Initially, the northern cities and allied confederacies were slow to react to the Antinium sweeping through the plateaus and rugged mountainous regions of the continent, underestimating the dangers of an entrenched Antinium hive and the true numbers of the Antinium concealed beneath the earth. It was only after five cities were lost that—’

GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! My foot!

Why, why, why did the stupid chair have to be right there? The pain!

ooo some history! it seems the antinium wars were similar to the world wars? also the north seems a bit lackluster when it comes to fast response 

Crap. Did I bust open the injury? Let me see.

It’s hard to scoot back from my table to peer underneath it, but I can see the heavy white gauze. It’s bloody, but no more than it was last time I checked. Wonderful.

And it still hurts. I’ve broken bones before but it never felt anything like this. But considering this injury—

Yeah.

Fuck.

One of the barmaids is looking at me. I stare right back at her and she turns away. I’m really not in the mood for attention. And thinking about the pain only wants to make me scream out loud. Half from the pain, half from searing rage. So. Back to the book.

Okay. Ignore the pain. What was that about Antinium? Are they still around? I flip through the pages.

Confederacy of states…hasty alliance…skip all that. Ah.

ryokas vocabulary of expletives seems a bit lacking, perhaps she could buy a local thesaurus or get some tutoring from some sort of [heckler]? 

‘The tide of the war only changed after the discovery of the Antinium’s fatal weakness. Using their newfound tactics, the Southern Alliance used long-range mage spells to assault Antinium hives and deter attacking forces.

Several hives were destroyed entirely before a temporary truce was formed between the Antinium Queens and the leaders of the city states. This peace was tenuous however and lasted for only eight years when the Antinium attacked again, leading to the Second Incursion War…’

Weakness. They had a weakness? Must have missed that bit.

Let’s see. Where would that be? And why haven’t I seen these ant-people around? Well, they’re pariahs or outcasts to most societies, so I guess that’s why. But do they have any useful features or are they just bug-people?

Oh, here’s the weakness.

I pause with my finger on the passage as I hear a cheerful voice calling my name above the hubbub of the inn. Oh. Oh no. Not her again.

retcon! only one hive was destroyed across both wars, and the queen survived 

Ryoka Griffin was sitting in the middle of an inn. It was not an extraordinary inn—just one of the many inns located in the human city of Celum.

She was reading and scowling. Because she was talented, she could do both at the same time. She was also sitting by herself, occasionally eating from a cold plate left in front of her. A cold glass of juice beaded with condensation on the table in front of her. That at least she regularly drank from, which was necessary in the crowded heat of the inn.

“Hey there, Ryoka!”

A cheerful voice drowned out the ambient noise of conversation and drew every head towards the person that had entered the inn. Ryoka looked up from her book and spotted the girl making her way towards her. Her expression didn’t change, but her eye twitched once.

“Hey, Ryoka, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Garia.”

Garia Strongheart slid into an empty chair at the table and smiled cheerfully at Ryoka. Her cheerfulness was not reciprocated in kind. Ryoka just glanced up at Garia and went back to reading.

Undeterred, Garia flagged down a barmaid and requested one of the local drinks, a strong, semi-alcoholic beverage that was cool and flavorful at the same time. In Ryoka’s opinion, it was a shame that the flavor in question was beer.

“So, how are you doing? Is your leg feeling any better?”

Ryoka glanced up and glared.

“Guess.”

Garia’s smiled faltered.

this may seem a bit rude but when im just having a bad day or am sick there is just something immensely satisfying about causing someone who is normally super cheerful to falter 

“Did you—did you go to see the [Healer] I told you about? She’s a good one. Works with us Runners all the time.”

“Couldn’t help. The bone’s too badly broken.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Ryoka had a talent for shutting down conversations. Garia stared at her, and tried to surreptitiously glance at her bandaged leg. She winced, and covered her wince by changing the subject.

“Is that a book?”

Ryoka glanced up from her book. She eyed Garia.

“…Yes.”

“What’s it about?”

“History.”

“You mean, world history like you were asking me about the other day? Sorry I didn’t know more.”

Ryoka shook her head.

“The history of the cities.”

“Oh. Is it, um, interesting?”

“Not really.”

It was fascinating. Ryoka was no history buff, but it was amazing what being transported to another world did for her interest in mundane things like economics and politics.

“It must be nice, being able to read.”

The envy in Garia’s tone made Ryoka look up at last.

“…You can’t?”

Garia turned red.

“Not so much. I can do signs and math but – I mean, most folk can’t read too well. Not books or anything fancy like that. Fals can read, though. I’ve seen him reading books.”

Ryoka raised her eyebrows.

“Good for him.”

Again, Garia was forced to continue a mostly one-sided conversation.

“Where’d you get the book?”

“I bought it in the market. Didn’t cost much.”

“Really? I thought most books were several gold coins – at least.”

“Some sell for silver. Either way, it’s fine.”

Ryoka scowled as she chomped on another lukewarm slice of ham. The lack of any library in this city meant she had to buy any books she wanted to read, and some were annoyingly expensive. But she wasn’t about to get into a discussion of economics with Garia and fuel the conversation.

The problem was, Garia was more than capable of finding topics of interest by herself. The other girl stared at the pile of books on the table.

some people refuse to take the hint it seems 

“Are you going to read all of these, then?”

“Read ‘em.”

“What, all of them?”

“Not like I have anything else to do.”

Ryoka deliberately turned a page.

yep, this sort of mood typically means people want to be left alone. i dont care how extroverted you are just leave them alone 

I really wish she’d go away. Or do I? At least she’s keeping drunk guys from hitting on me.

I hate this. I hate her, I hate this inn, and I hate this entire world. If I could burn it down to the ground I’d—

Probably not. At least, she’s not the one I hate. So maybe destroy all the world except for a few people.

But the pain. And boredom, let’s not forget. It’s a sad day when Garia’s daily visit is the most interesting thing that happens to me.

It’s been one week since my ‘accident’. Another week of this and I might seriously snap. But my leg—

Damn it all. If I could kill every damned Street Runner in the world I would in an instant. Even if I had to stare into their eyes as I choked them to death. I will have vengeance, I swear it.

But until then, how the hell do I heal my leg? How, how, how? If it’s really beyond most normal magics—

Ask Garia. She might know of a better way, even if her first idea failed. Worth a shot, and I hope I have enough money for whatever I need. Crap, she’s been talking and I have no idea what she said. Better wing it.

Huh. That’s a crowd coming in right now. Hope they don’t want to share the table. They look familiar, though.

Who’s that? Another Runn—

Her.

Kill her. Stab her. Break her bones. Don’t do it. Do it. Hurt her. Smash her stupid face in. Kill. Killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill—

no sarcasm here, understandable attitude. 

its another perusa section, so moving on 

What might have happened next was anyone’s guess. Persua was still gloating, oblivious to the trouble, but Garia could see Ryoka glancing at a sharp knife sitting on her plate. The Street Runners behind Persua were numerous, but they were getting unfriendly looks from other inn patrons who might just relish a bar fight if it meant getting rid of unwanted strangers.

Garia was debating the merits of getting stabbed and preventing a fight, versus witnessing Persua’s death, regardless of whatever consequences it entailed.

But then the door opened again, and a hush fell over the room. Where the Street Runners had entered into the noise and chaos of the inn, the next group that entered brought silence with them.

Casual inn-goers of the variety of merchants, farmers, shopkeepers and so on scrambled out of the way as a huge, armored Minotaur strode into the room. He had a massive steel battleaxe strapped to his back, and he was followed by five more adventurers: three mages and two more warriors all armed to the teeth.

The Horns of Hammerad looked around and spotted Ryoka and Garia on the other side of the inn. Their leader immediately made a beeline for the two, walking in an open space of his own. No one wanted to get in the way of the Minotaur’s path.

Persua was still mocking Ryoka and Garia, oblivious to the newcomers in the inn. The Street Runners behind her were nervously eying the approaching adventurers, but they didn’t move from their spot.

The Minotaur named Calruz stopped in front of the Street Runners and glared down at them. Persua turned and let out a high pitched scream as she saw his face. He jerked one thumb and pointed.

“You. Runners. Out of the way.”

when a minotaur tells you to get out of the way, you get out of the way 

The Street Runners exchanged one glance and then shifted out of the way. Calruz snorted in contempt and brushed by them as they edged away.

Persua made a disgusted face and pinched at her nose as he passed by. But when one of the female mages glared at her, she shrank back as well. There was an unspoken difference in power between the Runners and the Adventurers, and once they realized the Horns of Hammerad had business with Ryoka, they decided to leave the inn quickly.

Garia gaped as the six adventurers stood in front of the table. They were all wearing armor, or robes of high-quality cloth. The two warriors standing behind Calruz wore shining chainmail, and the mages carried glowing staves and a wand that gave off ethereal fiery sparks.

That last bit was especially concerning to the innkeeper who nervously eyed the wand, but he didn’t make any vocal objections. The tall, mustached human warrior standing next to Calruz nodded at Ryoka and gave her a friendly smile.

“Ryoka Griffin? We’re part of the adventuring party, the Horns of Hammerad. You bailed us out of a tough situation last week. Do you mind if we sit?”

Ryoka stared up at the adventuring party. She didn’t appear overly impressed.

“You’re blocking my light.”

The vice-captain blinked. He exchanged glances with the other warrior while the mages frowned, but the Minotaur laughed.

“Hah! Spirited! It is good to see that in a Human at last!”

He stuck out a massive, gauntleted hand.

“I am Calruz of the Beriad. I lead the Horns of Hammerad, an adventuring party in these parts. I am in your debt, Ryoka Griffin. May we sit?”

Ryoka blinked in the face of this direct approach. She paused and then reluctantly nodded, shaking Calruz’s hand.

“Fine.”

Immediately, the Horns of Hammerad pulled up chairs and another table to sit next to Ryoka and Garia. Calruz had to sit perched in his chair which creaked ominously beneath him, but seemed happy enough.

Once all the adventurers were seated, a barmaid approached and they ordered drinks and food. Ryoka wasn’t hungry, and Garia, awestruck by the company, was too shy to eat.

In between the barmaids bustling around and delivering drinks and food, the vice-captain leaned forwards and addressed Ryoka.

“We owe you a debt of gratitude for that delivery you did for us a week ago. Without it, we’d all have been killed by that damned Lich. Thanks to you though, we managed to kill it and recover a lot of magical artifacts. Ceria’s got a new set of mage robes she owes all to you.”

One of the female mages nodded and gestured at her clothing. She was wearing a dark blue set of robes embroidered with glowing golden sigils around the hem and edges of the rich cloth.

It seemed foolish to bring such expensive clothing into an inn, but Ryoka noticed that when Calruz accidentally splattered the dress while reaching for a tankard, the liquid simply ran down the cloth and onto the ground. She was immediately impressed and wondered how much the magical cloth cost.

Garia looked around the table, wide-eyed.

“I just heard that Ryoka was doing a delivery to the Ruins. Was it that helpful?”

One of the warriors snorted.

“Delivery? Hah! She charged right past the Lich that had us pinned down and dropped the potions off right in the center of the battlefield! He was casting fireballs and lightning around her, but she even drew his fire as she left—gave us a chance to regroup!”

Ryoka shifted uncomfortably as Garia gaped at her. The problem with being in an inn was that other people were listening. Already she could tell patrons on the other tables were listening in on their conversation. She shrugged.

“Just doing my job.”

“Your job? No other Runner would have pulled off a feat like that. You saved our lives.”

She was having a hard time meeting the earnest vice-captain’s eyes. Ryoka shrugged and picked at her ham as he continued.

“Without the potions the best we could have hoped for would be a retreat where we didn’t lose too many of our party. In the worst-case scenario we’d have lost over half of our group and that’s if the Lich didn’t follow us.”

Calruz nodded.

“Instead, we managed to break that damn skeleton’s head in. The treasure we recovered more than made up for the expedition. And while the rest of our group is still healing from the battle, we’re here to repay the debt we owe.”

Ryoka raised her eyebrows. Minotaurs. Honor? They didn’t seem to go together, but either Calruz was an exception, or Minotaurs had quite a strong sense of right and wrong.

The vice-captain cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We expected to meet you again, since we heard you were a popular Runner around here. But when we heard about your injury, we decided to drop by.”

Garia looked surprised. It was a long way from the Ruins of Albez to Celum for someone who wasn’t a Runner.

“You came all the way here just to do that?”

Calruz nodded impatiently.

“Of course. What does distance matter? But let us introduce ourselves properly.”

He poked the female mage at his side and she jumped and glared at the Minotaur. The mage nodded to Ryoka and Garia. She was wearing a hat indoors which was presumably bad manners, but as she removed it they realized why.

Her ears were slightly pointed, and although she appeared human, this mage seemed subtly different from her companions. Ryoka noticed her skin was—rather than being paler, appeared subtly more vibrant. It was as if her body was simply realer and more vivid than the rest of the world. It was a slight thing, but grew more noticeable the longer Ryoka stared.

Her eyes tracked down to the young woman’s face. Again, her features were beautiful, but not simply aesthetically. They possessed another dimension she couldn’t explain that added to the exotic nature of the mage’s face. Ryoka saw that her eyes were pale yellow, but made no comment.

The mage stuck out one hand and Ryoka took it. She wasn’t an elf. But she wasn’t human either.

Half-elf.

“Ceria Springwalker.”

“…Ryoka Griffin.”

“I’m Garia Strongheart. Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

The rest of the company introduced themselves, but Ryoka was still thinking about Ceria. She shook hands mechanically, impassively nodding as the vice-captain expressed his admiration of how she’d saved them. She’d already forgotten his name.

“Enough of this.”

Calruz snapped impatiently as soon as the introductions were done. He pointed down towards Ryoka’s leg as it stuck out awkwardly.

“We didn’t come here to chat. We’re honor-bound to repay our debt, which is why we’re here. And you’re injured. How’d that happen?”

“Got run over by a cart.”

“What?”

The adventurers looked at Ryoka in frank disbelief.

“Getting run over by a cart I’d believe of normal people, but a Runner? I thought you lot were fast on your feet.”

Ryoka shrugged unhelpfully and stared at her plate. Uncertainly, Garia cleared her throat.

“It wasn’t—exactly an accident.”

She turned red as the Horns of Hammerad focused their attention on her. Calruz tapped a finger on the table.

“Explain, please.”

“Well, I don’t know how to say it, but Ryoka sort of broke an unspoken rule in the Runner’s Guild. She did this delivery and made a lot of folks mad—”

“—And they decided to run her over with a cart?”

The vice-captain stared incredulously at Garia.

“Are you serious?”

“Most of us didn’t know anything about it until it happened. But some of the Street Runners and City Runners – they’re part of a group that enforces the rules. I mean, they’re not real rules but we all obey them.”

Garia jumped as the mug in Calruz’s hand cracked and shattered in his grip. He angrily shoved the glass pieces aside and gritted his teeth.

“What pathetic, cowardly lot. I’d challenge them all to an honor duel in a moment if I had cause.”

calruz, it will not help your reputation to slaughter some runners 

Ceria shook her head as she put her hat back on.

“We don’t recognize duels under the law, and they’d run away if you looked at them sideways in any case. It sounds like there’s quite a lot of politics in the Runner’s Guild – and dangerous politics at that if this is what happens to people who disobey.”

The other adventurers murmured and grunted in disgust.

“Runners.”

“Money grubbing backstabbers.”

“Barely worth the coin we spend to hire them. And for the rates they charge, I could buy a new sword!”

Garia looked like she wanted to object to the insults, but she didn’t dare. Ryoka was interested.

“You don’t like Runners?”

One of the warriors shook his head.

“You we like. And your friend here doesn’t seem bad. But the rest of your lot are worthless pieces of waste as far as we’re concerned.”

“We’re not all bad.”

Garia protested weakly. The vice-captain and the mages shook their heads.

“You don’t understand, uh, Miss Garia was it? Most Runners don’t do deliveries to battlefields, and some of the ones that do only deliver after the battle ends. We could be in serious trouble, but your people won’t approach until all the monsters are gone. And even then, we have to pay triple—sometimes five times as much just for deliveries to areas we’ve already cleared.”

“Besides, Runners are only concerned about their pay, not anything else. They won’t stop to help even in emergencies unless we pay them. Even adventurers have more integrity than that.”

The Horns of Hammerad grumbled, but at least their ire wasn’t directed directly towards Garia and Ryoka. Ceria eyed the dispirited Garia and cleared her throat.

“That’s not to say all Runners are bad. I know a lot of you deliver goods quickly and for reasonable rates. It’s just that there are quite a few bad Runners in your Guilds, especially the ones that we have to deal with.”

She nodded at Ryoka.

“Case in point, your leg.”

Calruz snorted angrily as he grabbed another mug from a scared barmaid.

“This is intolerable. A good Runner shouldn’t be crippled. You. Mages. Can’t one of you lot heal her leg?”

Ceria eyed Ryoka’s leg as as the other mages shook their heads.

“None of us know advanced healing magic, Calruz. Besides, that looks like a complicated break.”

He grunted.

“So? What about a healing potion?”

The mages all made a face. The male mage holding the sparking wand shook his head.

“Oh, sure. If you want to fuse the bone back together that might work. But healing in that way is only good for quick fixes. I’ve seen fighters come back with bones attached the wrong way round, or off-center.”

“Is it just a broken bone?”

Ryoka shook her head and grimaced.

“Bone’s shattered. Splinters are in the flesh.”

All the people sitting at the table – and in earshot of the conversation – winced. Ceria however just nodded to herself and put a finger to her lips.

“I thought so. If they were trying to hurt you, they had to injure you badly enough that you wouldn’t be able to recover so easily.”

“Why don’t healing potions work? They fix people with stab wounds up in seconds. Why not bones?”

Ceria shrugged.

“Healing potions just accelerate the body’s natural healing. But this is far too complicated for a potion to fix. In situations like this, time or magic is the only solution.”

Ceria looked at Ryoka.

“What you need is a high-level [Healer]…no, better yet a [Cleric]. If there were any [Clerics] left alive, I mean. A [Healer] who also has a [Mage] class would be best.”

Garia looked confused. Ryoka was confused, but her expression didn’t change outwardly.

“What’s the difference? I thought they were both the same.”

Again, all the mages shook their heads. The female mage who owned the staff with the glowing orb whose name Ryoka had forgot answered.

“Most [Healers] just use herbs and minor spells to treat injuries. That’s fine, but if you want to heal this leg within the year, you need a real magic practiced by a mage. And a high-level one at that.”

“And how much would that cost?”

The female mage hesitated. Ceria looked glum as she answered for her.

“Something like that…that would cost at least a few hundred gold coins. And that’s only if you could find a high-level healer. And they’re very rare.”

Deathly silence fell over the table. Calruz was grimacing darkly, and the vice-captain reluctantly shook his head at him.

“Too bad.”

retcon, religious classes are pretty much unknown from what we see in the more modern chapters 

Ryoka pushed her chair back and stood up. She paused and winced as her bad foot touched the ground, but then began limping towards the stairwell. Garia, distressed, called out.

“Where are you going, Ryoka?”

The other girl didn’t look around.

“Sleep. I’m tired.”

Instantly, the vice-captain stood up.

“In that case allow me to help you up the stairs.”

Ryoka eyed the stairwell and looked back at him.

“I’ve got it.”

“I insist. Please, let me—”

“No.”

The vice-captain hesitated. He was looking from the steep stairwell to Ryoka’s splinted and bandaged leg. She set her jaw stubbornly.

“I don’t need help.”

“But—”

“Piss. Off.”

Ryoka brushed off his hands and began dragging herself up the stairs. She had a method for it; she walked backwards up the stairs so she didn’t have to move her bad leg more than necessary. It was awkward and cumbersome, but the look in her eyes dared anyone to give her a hand.

Crestfallen, the vice-captain returned to the table and sat down. The other warrior patted him on the back. Garia awkwardly apologized.

“Sorry. She’s just—unfriendly.”

“I like her.”

Everyone looked at Calruz. The Minotaur was watching Ryoka with approval as she swung herself up the stairs.

“She reminds me of females of my kind. Fiery. The ones who would stab any male that offends. Much better than the simpering human ones I keep meeting.”

He stood up. The vice-captain eyed him worriedly. Ceria leaned forwards and poked Calruz hard in the back.

“Calruz. I wouldn’t bother her. Human females aren’t like Minotaur females.”

He snorted dismissively.

“Bah. All that’s needed is courage and spirit to win her over.”

He knocked his chair back and walked over to the stairwell. The vice-captain looked like he wanted to say something, but lost the initiative. Calruz called over his shoulder.

“Don’t wait for me. I’ll find you at the Guild later.”

The remaining adventurers watched Calruz ascending the stairs and muttered amongst themselves.

“Should we stop him?”

“If we do, it’ll be a fight. You know what happens when he loses his temper.”

“Another destroyed inn? We’ll lose all the money we just earned!”

The vice-captain’s eyes narrowed. He drained his mug and stood up.

“This is unacceptable. I’m going up there.”

Ceria grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Calm down, Gerial.”

He glared at her.

“You’re letting him go? Are you mad?”

She shook her head.

“Calruz isn’t an idiot. He knows the law. He’ll go if he isn’t wanted, but that’s not what I meant. Ryoka Griffin can take care of herself. Or don’t you remember why we’re here?”

He hesitated, but then everyone downstairs heard Calruz’s unmistakable bass rumble. From downstairs, Garia could hear Ryoka’s annoyed voice. She hadn’t known Ryoka long, but Garia knew her well enough to guess what she was saying.

Garia started biting at her nails as Calruz’s voice rose and he made what sounded like an attempted joke. Ryoka snapped something but he kept talking.

this isnt going to go well 

Uncertainly, Garia stood up. None of the adventurers stopped her as she walked to the stairs and looked up. Both human and minotaur were standing outside her room, arguing. Well, Ryoka was arguing, while Calruz was…flirting.

Which was a mistake, Garia knew. She heard Ryoka’s voice as she snapped at Calruz.

“Get out.”

He said something in reply, and she pushed at him. Since he was wearing armor and outweighed her by at least two hundred pounds he didn’t move. Calruz captured Ryoka’s hand in his own. Garia saw Ryoka’s eyes narrow.

The patrons of the inn downstairs clearly heard the crack, and the bellow of pain from Calruz. From her position on the stairs, Garia saw and heard Ryoka punch the Minotaur in the face and then saw the Calruz’s form overbalance on the top of the stairs. She watched in slow motion as the massive figure of the Minotaur reeled back from the blow. He grabbed at the wall, but the wood splintered as it broke under his weight.

If. If Calruz hadn’t insisted on wearing plate armor. If Ryoka hadn’t hit him quite as hard. If the inn was newer and wasn’t so old. But there were no ifs. Calruz toppled down the stairs in a terrific crash of metal on wood, splintering the stairwell, and smashing the floorboards on the ground where he landed.

Everyone stared at the fallen Minotaur as he stared up at the ceiling. Half of the inn’s patrons were already making for the doors, while the other half waited for the ensuing bloodbath.

At the top of the stairs Ryoka raised her middle finger, flipped the prone Minotaur off, and then limped into her room. The door slammed behind her.

Calruz blinked up as the remaining pieces of the stairwell fell down around him and the innkeeper screamed in horror. He stared bemusedly up at Garia and the rest of his adventuring party. Then he grinned.

“Strong. I like her quite a lot.”

what else did you expect? 

aaaaaand thats the end! will the horns find ryoka a skilled enough healer? will perusa get her comupance? will garia eventually take the hint? 

see yall next post