#so you have to hunt them down through every use of that function to try to find where its defined

[mcghosts]

grabbing my coworkers by the shoulders and shaking them vigourously: when you define a variable leave a comment saying what it is! use descriptive variable names! add some comments outlining what your big blocks of code do! make your code intelligible to others! please! god! please!

[zoe-oneesama]

Love that once I’ve finally dropped the show they decide to upload often. Once you’ve caught you breath from the spam, do you think you’d do a review of the new episodes? I’ve seen glimpses of cursed cabbage patch kids and I’m too scared to try and watch this season, but I always enjoyed your analysis of episodes. (No pressure though)

I don't really like to do immediate reviews, especially in this season, because there is a through line in these episodes so some things won't become clear until future episodes. But I can give a super quick review with my minor pros and cons:

Evolution:

Synopsis: Monarch uses the rabbit's power to attempt to defeat the heroes in the past. By unifying with Bunnix's Miraculous, they thwart him every time despite him using multiple Miraculouses, and, with the help of the present Alix and past Dog miraculous, the Rabbit Miraculous is reclaimed with Alix finally taking the Rabbit permanently, starting her journey through time until Monarch is defeated and it's safe for her to return.

Good: Monarch is using his brain (or like 75% of it) by immediately using the time travel Miraculous and it took a lot of teamwork to stop him. I'm glad Nathalie reached her breaking point in the face of Gabriel obsessing more over defeating teenagers than focusing on what his actual goal should be. I like Bunny Noir's design (mostly. His mask gives him eye bags from up close). This episode went the way I was hoping the season would go, with the heroes one by one reclaiming the lost Miraculouses.

Bad: Alix is not my favorite and I don't really care for episodes about her. It is frustrating that when Monarch passes out from overusing the Miraculouses that the heroes don't start looting his corpse when they had the chance, or any of the other times he's tied up.

Multiplication:

Synopsis: Everyone adjusts to the new normal of Monarch having stolen all the Miraculouses and are awaiting his next move, while reclaiming their lives. Adrien tells his father he wants to quit modeling and Gabriel accepts. Since Marinette gave him the advice to speak to his dad, Adrien starts looking at her in a new light. After many weeks, an akuma finally attacks- Ikari Dozen with the abilities of the Mouse Miraculous, yet when she's defeated, she has no Miraculous. On that confusing note, Gabriel and Tomoe announce their newest product: Alliance, a ring with all the functions of a phone on one finger.

Good: I don't have much in this category since the episode is half montage. It's mostly just "not bad". I guess I'm glad that word has spread to at least Alya that Adrien doesn't want to model anymore?

Bad: Uh, it's Alya though. Marinette has explained explicitly why a relationship with Adrien is a no go but Alya just WILL NOT support her on this and I do NOT approve. And it's one thing to just be like "uh I don't believe you but whatever" and another thing to actively work against Marinette, aka holding her down so Adrien can kiss her when she doesn't want him to??? And also WHY DOES EVERYONE KNOW ALIX IS BUNNIX NOW?!

Destruction:

Synopsis: With all the kwamis at his command, Gabriel demands Ladybug's address as a loophole around the secret keeping magic and is led to Marinette, who is the first step on a scavenger hunt for the answer. This leads Monarch to the Wax Museum where a trap is waiting - Chat Noir and Ladybug, who get the jump on him and tie him to Chat's Cataclysm activated hand. They could never predict, however, that when Ladybug went for the Butterfly Miraculous that Monarch would sacrifice his own body and take the brunt of the Cataclysm just to escape. Despite suffering a growing injury, Gabriel, with Tomoe's help, destroys the Miraculouses and rebuilds them as rings which, combine with his Alliance product, give his akumas Miraculous abilities.

Good: Ladybug's plan is so thorough and to think she set this as far back as between Seasons 2-3 (they're still calling him "Hawkmoth" in flashbacks but allude to Ladybug being Guardian) is quite the contingency plan. It's funny that Chat Noir was willing to walk around with a piece of paper with an insult punchline on it on the OFF CHANCE Monarch would try this shit. It was also funny that I thought the loophole was going to be that the kwami's don't know "Ladybug's" address because she doesn't have one, only Marinette does...but the loophole was that kwami's don't know what an address even is?! Lololol. And Xuppu being innocently annoying made him MVP.

Bad: Chat Noir being so broken up by hitting the MAIN VILLAIN with Cataclysm seems so out of left field after Scarabella, Uncanny Valley, and almost Sole Crusher (and even dumber after "Jubilation"). This is the ONE GUY you don't have to feel bad about but he acts horrified, yet one episode later he almost does it to someone on purpose. This episode also has a long montage section and after "Multiplication" I was like "please don't do more of this". And them taking the first 3 minutes to try to explain the Rooster just made it more confusing to me (though it did add something things that made sense).

Jubilation:

Synopsis: Marinette discovers that not only is Damocles still cosplaying The Owl, but an old school friend is cosplaying Ladybug and they're both getting into trouble. She goes to this friend Socqueline's family store and tries to get her to confess to this "crime" while also getting her own run down of the ins and outs of the Alliance ring. After a fumble where Marinette takes Socqueline's ring with her on a Ladybug mission and having thoroughly scolded both Socqueline and Damocles, Monarch becomes sure Socqueline IS Ladybug and sicks Darker Owl on her. When she's discovered to not be Ladybug, Socqueline is used to bait Ladybug and Chat Noir into being hit by Darker Owl's "Gift" power and traps them in a dream of defeating Monarch, becoming a couple, and having a happy life - until they have to wake up. Defeating Damocles doesn't reveal any Miraculouses and the two are left confused.

Good: I like Socqueline. She pokes a few holes in what we knew about Marinette's backstory but she's pretty well rounded in just one episode. If the dream sequence was meant to make me laugh then I appreciate it for that and I like that they gave Marinette a believable reason to avoid using the Alliance other than "it has my crush/my enemy on it as AI and it's weird". I also approve of this episode confirming all the conspiracy dystopian ideas I had about this creepy ass ring.

Bad: I'm just being nitpicky but the dream seems incomplete and half hearted since there's no identity reveal - in THIS EPISODE Marinette scolds two people for not appreciating the one thing she wished she had: normalcy. Yet her entire dream sequence she's stuck as her hero self? Unless the Gift is influenced by Darker Owl's lack of knowledge about their identity, that just feels like some dissonance. Also, not Sabine using the AI model of the girl that got her daughter expelled. Also, not Gabriel using an AI model of his wife, hope Alliance never goes off IN PUBLIC and reveals THAT feature!

Illusion:

Synopsis: In an attempt to help Ladybug and Chat Noir, Nino starts a resistance and comes up with a plan to record an akumatization to solve the mystery of how Monarch is giving people the powers of the Miraculous. How? By causing an akuma themselves, with Gabriel as the target. Unfortunately Lila has discovered their plans and warned Gabriel, who uses this to his advantage by pretending to be akumatized and giving the heroes false leads. The “resistance” is expanded to the rest of the class - including Lila.

Good: Um, I didn’t really like this episode. The VILLAIN got to be the manipulative, clever one, which doesn’t make me feel good in the end, and Lila IS STILL BE ACCEPTED BY ALYA?! Make it make sense dammit!

Bad: This episode. I don’t like it. Gabriel AND Monarch’s manipulation worked and in the end Alya is apologizing to Nino for “doubting” him despite being the only person thinking through the cruelty of purposefully akumatizing someone? Why does every Nino-centric episode make him a jerk? Why did the two “heroes” go along with this? AND WHY IS ALYA STILL VOUCHING FOR LILA??!?!

Determination:

Synopsis: Adrien is letting his growing feelings for Marinette show and Kagami pushes him into a date with her. Marinette peer pressures herself into reciprocating, but brings Luka, who teams up with Kagami to give the two a push by locking them in the Wax Museum together. Meanwhile, the Mayor is threatening Veronique to shut down her new All Heroes display and is akumatized into Manipula, who controls the wax displays to attack. The heroes defeat Manipula, even with her borrowing from the Ox Miraculous, and return to the musuem. Both have a realization: Adrien is in love with Marinette and Marinette is in love with Chat Noir.

Good: Though I hated the idea of Kagami and Luka joining Team Adrienette by making weird plans to force them together, the way they went about it was pretty mild and seemed to line up more with the two's personalities, down to Kagami sticking around just because she was 100% sure Adrien would mess it up without her and Luka seeing right through Marinette's excuses. I liked Manipula's design (even if she's just an upgraded Puppeteer powerwish) and thought it was interesting that her akuma was split up so ALL the "heroes" needed to be defeated. I thought the episode would be way worse.

Bad: WHY THE WAX MUSEUM?! WHY WOULD THAT BE THE MOMENT HIS FEELINGS CHANGED?! Adrien's love language is clearly words of affirmation, wouldn't it make WAY more sense that Marinette's practice love confession to "Buttercup" would be what changes his mind, especially since Puppeteer 2 was in SEASON 3 which ended with him DATING SOMEONE ELSE?!?!

I also don't know if I should put this in Good or Bad, but damn the mood difference between Adrien bathed in the yellow warmth of the Wax Museum as he happily realizes he's in love vs. Marinette in the dark clouds and rain as she's devastated to realize she's in love. Cinematic marvel, 10/10, what a disaster.

Passion:

Synopsis: Nathalie reacts violently at Gabriel's pretend Good Dad act and Gabriel presents her with his growing 'clysm injury, which has him on a time clock, making her realize he won't stop going after the Miraculouses because his other option is to die and leave Adrien completely alone. Armed with this and videos of Emilie telling Nathalie to stop Gabriel's pursuit of the Miraculous, Nathalie plays double agent, intent to get the Miraculouses before Gabriel, and pretends to be back on his side, accepting an akuma: Safari. Adrien is all set to confess to Marinette but is side tracked by Nathalie's growing illness, which Marinette reassures him through - up until the akuma attacks. Safari's abilities lead tracking crossbow bolts to stun the heroes, but when Adrien detransforms and realizes the bolts lost track of "Chat Noir", he gets the idea to swap Miraculouses. Being Mister Bug and knowing the akuma is Nathalie, whom he blames himself for akumatizing, Adrien maintains a serious attitude, whereas Lady Noire realizes she's around her love, takes on more flirty tactics (to her own confusion and dread). Safari is defeated and Adrien makes a point to be there for her emotionally, bonding the two.

Good: Nathalie is living her best "let's save our wife" moments and I'm so glad to be back on this Doing It For Emilie track instead of For Gabriel. The Akuma x Goat Miraculous match up was really clever and the work around was equally clever. It's nice to see Adrien step up, which is also probably why he was given the "serious" Miraculous, though I'd argue he didn't need to be Mister Bug to show off an ability to take the lead.

Bad: This episode paired with the next starts this annoying trend of "Oh so it's fine when HE does it but when MARINETTE does it it's bad!" Starting with Alya accusing Marinette of running away from her feelings by going after Chat Noir - but no one is double checking Adrien for switching to Marinette? For him, he's just "taking the hint" but for Marinette it's just running away from her feelings? If that were the case, why the big dramatic "Oh god no Tikki I'm in LOVE" at the end of the last episode??

Also I'm disappointed their shooting holes in my "Emilie is just as bad" theory, how dare.

Reunion:

Synopsis: Marinette and Alya go to the Museum to (on purpose this time) look for Miraculous clues. Tikki introduces a way to use the Kwagatama to commune with past Miraculous holders and Marinette accidentally uncovers a letter from Alix, which gets Alix's father to summon (most) of the class. Jalil interrupts the Reading of the Will Letter to accuse Ladybug of tricking his sister into leaving, haven fallen for online reddit conspiracies of Ladybug being the true villain and being willingly akumatized into The Pharaoh with the power of the Turtle. Marinette communes with Jeanne of Arc for love advice, to her annoyance, but sticks around for the akuma. Ladybug relies on Bunnix through written correspondence to get near the akuma and has him use his Book of Truth to tell him if Ladybug is really the villain, which it confirms she's the hero. Pissed that Monarch "lied to him", Jalil banishes his own akuma. Impressed by how Ladybug and Chat Noir handled things, Jeanne tells her love story with her Cat Holder, which ended with them having to denounce their Miraculouses to even have a chance to be together, though it's unknown if they did.

Good: I liked the use of the conspiracy boards turning against Ladybug and Chat Noir because honestly it would probably happen and, if not Lila, Jalil is a good character to channel that through. It's nice they're bringing the kwagatama back and yay for Adrien getting his (but omigod the comedic timing of him gazing adoringly at Marinette's photo and then Plagg straight up BARFING on him lmao).

Bad: What did I say about "Oh so when HE does it-". Here Alya gets on Marinette's case by insisting the reason that the Miraculous holder's they've been finding in the museum are all SOLO is because they're focused on their JOB instead of ROMANCE. Um, hello? What show are YOU watching? We've had FOUR SEASONS OF CHAT NOIR DOING EXACTLY THAT, but NOW you wanna talk about it?! No no no, if Chat Noir didn't get flak for it in universe, neither does Marinette. Pair that with Tikki essentially making fun of Plagg for being worried because when HER holder is in love NOTHING get's accomplished, and it's like this show is getting a kick out of mocking the VERY THINGS that have kept this show going. Guess what, Tikki, if Marinette HAD been straight forward and confessed, she'd have been turned down in Season 1, so maybe don't harp on the very thing that's made you exist for FIVE SEASONS.

This is what I meant in an earlier post about the episodes being mostly okay but then there's just ONE FUCKING THING-

Even in "Reunion", Tikki suggests talking to Jeanne but then takes it back and the episode makes it out like Marinette's the immature one for following Tikki's advice by having Jeanne annoyed with her. Oh, I'm sorry JOAN, are you BUSY? Did we INTERRUPT something?? Pretty sure you were doing a whole lot of NOTHING, so what does it MATTER what kind of question Marinette has?

I’m still waiting on the “Exaltation” english subs, so news on that one.

So that's the season so far~ Most of it came out in just a week so it was hard for me to keep episodes separate.

[leupagus]

Gonna call this "All This Life" and it's just gonna be 5K of Jade being an embarrassing wife guy about Nate

It's July, which means she's about to lose him. She loses him every year around this point — either he's really gone, off to Barcelona or Milan, muttering imprecations at whatever interpreter they've lined up for him; or he's off in his own head, locked in his office and scowling down at the various football Lego sets that were the parting gift from that off-putting American Nate still has an inexplicable fondness for.

She never really liked Ted Lasso, but she loves Nathan Shelley, and so when they meet at the odd social function or sporting event she'll bestow a smile and a polite interest until he goes away. It never takes very long, which is nice.

"I've almost forgot how terrifying you are when you do that, love," Nate says to her after the Richmond 'do, half-asleep already. He'd smiled broad and warm and surprised when she'd come downstairs in that blue dress she hadn't been quite sure of at the store, worried it might be too tight, worried she hadn't kept the weight off like she'd promised herself. That smile had carried her out the door with a half-hearted "bye" to the babysitter and wrapped round her in the back of the limousine (he's still so weird, always insisting on limos for these stupid things, but he wants to keep his attention on her and not the road). And at the clubhouse, through seventeen variations of "So do you think you can keep Richmond's place in the rankings, what ho?" he'd turn to her and share that smile with her again, and then give a pleasant, twisting answer.

"Mm. Do what," she asks, rereading the last paragraph. She doesn't think much of Croft's translation, if she's honest — Polish is silkier than this, without the porridge lumps of English, but there are better words, better turns to evoke what Tokarczuk means. Still, it's not bad. There's something to learn from, here. Nate likes to say they're both in fields that let them learn from other people's mistakes.

"Give people that 'I'm just waiting for you to go away' look," Nate says, settling and resettling and re-resettling. He'll do this for another hour, trying to find the perfect angle so he can watch her until he falls asleep. He's never yet admitted that that's what he does; she's never yet admitted that that's why she stays up. So she can be watched — can hold onto his attention for those last moments.

(In July and August, though, he falls asleep almost as soon as he's in bed; he's taken to snoring, which she's saving up to tell him until the moment it will make him sputter the most. The beginning of a new season takes him away into new plans, different strategies, hunting for that millimetre of advantage amongst the pack of whatever league he's up against this year. And it's always him up against them; he's not the youngest anymore, but he still stands out in those anodyne pictures they put up of all the head managers. He'll never not have something to prove.)

"You used to give me that look," Nate mumbles, face half-mashed into the pillow. "S'one reason I fell in love with you."

"Your fetish for people who are mean to you is well-established," she says, turning the pages on both copies of Bieguni, even though she isn't really paying attention to the book anymore. Even though he knows she's not paying attention. Theirs is a marriage of hiding in plain sight, of pretending badly not to love each other as much as they do and holding secret and smug the knowledge that they've seen through the other's terrible facade.

[writerlyhabits]

Bed Rest

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Request: “Reader takes care of a sick Din send tweet ”

Warnings: mild language, pre-established relationship, helmetless Din but it's dark and technically no creed is broken, its just fluff. I did spell a Mando'a word funky, but that's cause he says it weird, just trust me on this one, kay?

AN: Okay.... this request has been sitting in my inbox for a hot minute and I'm so sorry, but every time I opened the doc all thoughts just left my brain and I couldn't make anything I liked. I know it's short, but I think keeping it short and sweet made this a lil easier.  @deceiverofgodss you're wonderful as always ty 💛 Thanks for requesting, I hope you all enjoy!

Din Djarin is a complicated man. 

There are many layers to him, both on the surface and buried behind the layers of his beskar armor. He’s clever, his brain moving faster than you could even comprehend to get your party through high-tension situations. He’s kind, offering his genuine thanks wherever he could, and – as you’d noticed on more than one occasion – tips generously where it is deserved. He has his hard edges, but there is a softness to him in his lingering touches at the small of your back, and when he cradles his foundling to his chest. 

But he’s also one of the most stubborn men you have ever met. 

As of late, he’d been sleeping for far longer than normal, had been partial to cranking the heat up at the inns, and you could hear his stuffy nose affecting his ability to speak – even through the helmet. Din was very clearly sick, or at the very least under the weather, but would he admit to it? Of course not. He powered through, acting like nothing was wrong. 

It was getting on your nerves. 

So you took matters into your own hands. 

“Love,” he whined, having traded your preferred mesh’la for one he could pronounce without hindrance from the blockage of his sinuses, which you kept commenting on and he kept ignoring. “Where did you put the tracker?” He was searching the front table – where he most definitely set it down beside his vambraces the night before – not looking over at you. 

“I haven’t seen it,” you feigned innocence, and you admittedly could have been a better actress, but in his state that was the last thing he would notice. Which was exactly why you had taken to hiding the fob in your hands behind your back. 

He couldn’t go on this hunt. If he didn’t run himself into the ground and make his symptoms worse, he would get himself killed trying to function despite of them. 

For a moment you thought you were going to get away with it, until the traitorous device beeped in your hands to remind you it was still working. Dank farrik. Your Mandalorian turned around steadily to face you, the intimidation of his dark visor lost on you because you knew he was avoiding making himself dizzy by moving his head too fast. 

Usually, this would become an unfair game. You would try to keep it close to your body, using every defense you had to fend him off, Din’s large strong frame being able to overpower you with little effort as you both laughed. Sick Din, however, simply sagged his shoulders in disappointment. 

“Please don’t make me take it from you, I can’t.” 

Sometimes it was so hard remembering just how human Din was underneath all of the beskar. Seeing him act just like any other man with a cold was refreshing. You just wished it also came with the usual desire to sit around and do nothing. 

“You can’t?” You repeated, eyebrows shot up on your forehead as you waited for him to hear what he was saying. “Din, if you can’t overpower me, how the hell do you think you’re going to be able to hunt down a bounty?” 

“It’s different, I won’t have to-” 

“Din.” Your firm tone had taken to sounding similar to his, even causing Grogu to look up at the two of you from his spot on the chair in the corner, and Din halted his argument. “You’re sick, you need to rest. If you don’t stop and take care of yourself, it’s only going to take longer before you can get back out there.” 

You let him sit with that reality for a second, watching as his visor turned to look at his green child across the room. You knew where his thoughts were going; the longer he couldn’t hunt, the longer it would take for him to provide for you all. The longer you kept Grogu cooped up in the shabby inn, and it was only a matter of time before you went out and took the bounty out yourself. 

You were not incapable by any means. In fact, he loved having you by his side in battle, the two of you being able to read the other as if by some ancient jedi mind trick. But he was fiercely protective, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the idea of sitting on the sidelines while you were on the hunt, unable to come to your rescue should you need it. 

All of this, you knew, went through his head as he turned back to you. You knew each other too well for his thoughts to be any kind of mystery to you, just as yours were second nature to him. Which meant that he knew you were prepared to fight him on this. 

So he sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.” 

“Good choice. Now take your armor off and get in bed.” 

“Mbesh’la, I don't think that’s-“

“Mbesh’la,” you taunted back, making fun of the way his congestion morphed the usually elegant word. You could practically hear his eye roll. “C’mon, I’m gonna get you soup from the shop downstairs. When I come back, I’ll help you out of the rest of it,” you finished sweetly. 

Din nodded in reply – a slow movement to avoid a headache – and you slipped the tracker into your pocket. Just to be safe. He made an attempt to start discarding his gear, gloved fingers fumbling with the clasps of his cloak now that they were free of his weapons. 

Before he struggled for long, you walked up and gingerly took his hands in yours, removing his leather gloves with a tenderness you rarely got to share with your Mandalorian. As you got the material over his large hands, you kissed his knuckles before reaching up to unfsaten the clasps he’d been struggling with, folding it across your arms when it released. You gave him a sweet smile, and placed one hand on the side of his helmet to bring it down towards you, leaving him with a keldabe kiss before you made your way out of the room. 

When you came back with the soup in hand – a large bowl for Din, and a small one for the foundling who never stopped eating – the room was dark, save for the oranges of the sunset outside peeking in through the cracks of the drapes. On the sizable bed in the middle of the room were your boys, Din cast in the shadows of the room as he laid on his side, and Grogu playing happily with his father’s helmet from his spot on top of the covers. Din’s hand was resting against the child’s back, and you just about melted at the sight. 

And then Din sneezed. 

At the very least, it amused the child, a laugh gurgling out of him at the ridiculous sound. It reminded you to keep moving, delivering the steaming bowls to a grateful Mandalorian, smiling at his quiet thanks. Only leaving them for a moment, you went into the fresher to run a cloth under hot water, bringing it back out to the shadow of a man tilting the edge of the bowl to his lips. 

Success. 

You made your way back to the side of the bed and began your usual dance, moving around him comfortably while never focusing on the patch of shadows where his face would be, trusting you not to find the features that may slip into the light while he was without his helmet. Your gaze landed on his dark curls, brushing them away from your peripherals to place the warm towel to his forehead, pleased with the quiet groan that left his body. 

“Keep this here until it gets cold. It’ll help you keep warm,” you instructed, pressing a kiss to his temple before you turned to walk away. The hand not supporting his soup reached for yours before you could get far, squeezing your hand as he found his words. 

“Could be warmer… There’s room for you to join us,” he offered, as close to a formal request as you would be getting out of him in this state. It brought a soft smile to your face as you looked down at your hands, woven together in his attempt to keep you close. 

You squeezed his hand with a promise to be right back, following his lead and changing into softer clothes more suitable for the sauna that was waiting for you under the covers. While you were up you tidied up the small space a little, stalling to let the other two finish their soups, smiling to yourself when you watched Grogu climb up into his fathers arms as the empty bowls were placed to the side. 

Coming back to them, you crawled into bed behind Din, wrapping your arms around his chest as you nuzzled into the muscular planes of his back. You listened to his breathing, his strong and steady breaths unaffected by his condition, and his heartbeat thumping in his chest. When his breathing relaxed, the tension in his limbs went right along with it, and only then were you able to follow him to sleep. Your Mandalorian could rest, giving his body the time it needed to recover. And you would enjoy every quiet, laidback moment it brought you and your little family.

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

[heliads]

everything is blue • conrisa space au • Chapter Seventeen: Returning the Favor

Risa Ward escaped a shuttle destined for her certain, painful death. Connor Lassiter ran away from home before it was too late. Lev Calder was kidnapped. All of them were supposed to be dissected for parts, used to advance a declining galaxy, but as of right now, all of them are whole. Life will not stay the same way forever.

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Connor Lassiter stares at Death. Death stares back at Connor Lassiter.

Dorian Heartland is not an easy man to look at. Connor doesn’t like doing it, but taking his eyes off of this infernal creator for even one moment could offer Heartland a chance to take Connor’s pupils for his own, so he refuses to budge his gaze even one millimeter.

All this does, though, is to give Connor a good look at everything that makes Heartland so horrifically wrong. He can see in the stiffness of Risa’s posture, the flightiness of her breath, that she’s caught on to who this is too, although by this point that would almost be impossible to avoid. Dorian Heartland is like no other man Connor has ever met before, though that might be because Dorian Heartland is no longer made up of any of his original birth parts, nor the secondary parts that replaced him, nor the ones that swapped him out after that. Connor can’t even begin to fathom what iteration of lungs he must have inside someone else’s ribcage– is the fourth generation of blood pumping through his veins, perhaps? The fifth?

Connor wonders what parts Heartland will take from Connor as some sort of grisly hunting trophy. The eyes, maybe. Everyone likes the eyes. Snatching his heart would be a particularly satisfying touch, too. If Connor wasn’t so disgusted by the idea of harvesting someone else’s bits and pieces to keep himself intact, maybe he, too, could see the allure in holding Heartland’s brain in his head, clenching the pink matter between his knuckles and knowing that someone else’s entire life and soul was in his hands.

Well. His and Roland’s. Connor is no better than this grave robber. Even though the switching out of arms was unintentional, Connor still bears the limb and tattoo of another teenager. Does that make him any closer to Heartland? Will it spare him from Heartland’s punishment? No and no, but it does paint a rather more confusing portrait. It would be easier if Connor were totally blameless, of course, but no one in this galaxy ever is. The same chain that breaks our wrists will help us up one day, and then it will kill our best friend and worst enemy in turn. All Connor can do is hope to stay alive, but even now, that seems like one last possibility that’s slipped out of his reach.

Heartland smiles indulgently, taking in the startled looks on their faces. “Now, now. Don’t give yourselves an aneurysm trying to figure out how I tracked you down. I need all of your brain matter to be as functional as possible. You won’t believe the number of potential buyers who have been contacting me in the hopes of getting a piece from the two of you.”

 “I’m trying extra hard now,” Connor says dryly.

Heartland has the nerve to roll his eyes like a petulant teenager. Connor wonders if that motion is uniquely Dorian, or if it’s from an actual AWOL who’s still not past his rebellious teenager phase even if he’s landed in the body of someone like Heartland. Regardless, the sudden movement makes Heartland’s whole face bulge unevenly as different sections of skin resist tension with varying rates of success, old and young parts making themselves known. For a moment, Connor swears he can see every piece of Heartland for what it is, can map every seam and stitch, and then the man’s face returns to neutral again and the effect is undone.

“Don’t be sulky, Connor, it does you no good.” Heartland admonishes him.

Connor folds his arms across his chest. “Oh, so you’re going to lecture me before you rip off my limbs? How charitable of you.”

“I’m not ripping off your limbs, that would be my expert team of surgeons,” Heartland clarifies. “Besides, ripping is entirely too gory of a description. Distribution is a perfectly reasonable procedure. The galaxy has ensured that it’s completely scientific, with as little pain to the distributes as possible. You simply must get your mind out of the gutter. Speak elegantly or don’t speak at all, Connor. I don’t want that tongue to be corrupted more than necessary.”

Beside him, Risa narrows her eyes at the man. “Was that little flower bed over there produced in the name of elegant speech, or did you just want an excuse for other people to talk about unwinding without putting words in your mouth?”

She jerks her chin towards a display somewhere beyond them. Connor thinks he remembers her coming from that direction when she’d run over to tell him that they had been caught. He wishes fleetingly that he had been closer, that he’d never suggested splitting up at all, that they had just put themselves first like every other soul in the galaxy seems wont to do, but the dreams evaporate in time, leaving him only the stark reality of having been caught in the pointless effort of trying to save lives.

Heartland chuckles, evidently remembering what Risa’s talking about. “Oh yes, the flowers. The last band of upstarts had the same reaction. I love it when we’re all on one page.”

Connor frowns, wondering if some other group of runaway unwinds had made it here before them to be the ‘band of upstarts’ Heartland referred to. He hadn’t seen anyone in the airspace above them when he landed, and certainly Connor would have heard if someone sprung Heartland’s trap a few standard hours ago, but then it occurs to him that Heartland isn’t mentioning events earlier that day at all.

No, Heartland is recollecting the last group of kids who tried to act as heroes for the galaxy. Connor hasn’t heard of any in a while, but even without the Collective’s propensity for propaganda whitewashing everything into blank silence, the last batch of would-be saviors would have been around decades ago. Heartland could be referring to infinite rounds of kids who didn’t want to die, all stretching back for centuries.

How many unwinds have stood in this exact spot? How many generations of children have tried to kill off Heartland or his policies but failed? Connor and Risa are far from the first, nor, judging by the fact that they’ve already been caught, will they be the last. This cycle will go on forever, as surely as a thousand suns rise and set across the galaxy, as certainly as the never ending rotation of fresh organs from the body of a child into the frame of an adult. Teenagers will rise out of obscurity, challenge the notion that the young should die for the wastefulness of the old, and then they will be struck down all because one man has cheated them of their last resource:  time.

Of course Dorian Heartland wins every round. He has the luxury of knowing the full story every time. Heartland knows how the rebellions start, so he can crush them in their infancy. He knows how the last stragglers turn into martyrs, so he can lay expert traps and avoid their attempts to save their friends. Starkey’s little attack may have caught him off-guard, and Connor may have been able to run from him once, but now Heartland has had time to consider their strategies and plan accordingly. Dozens of Connors have tried to make a stand, and Heartland has killed them every time. What is Connor now but one more replacement? Heartland is swapping out another one of his parts:  the rebel, the fighter, the loose end in his plans. He’s done it before. He’ll do it again.

Connor feels his stomach roll, low and heavy. He wants to scream and scream until the sickness leaves his body and goes into Heartland, until Dorian Heartland of old-Earth and always having enough remembers what it’s like to crave survival more than anything else.

Instead, he rocks back and forth on his heels twice, trying to force himself to stay under control. He’s got to stall so he has time to plan. Connor can hear slight rustling on the paths surrounding them. The other park visitors are conspicuously not looking their way, leading him to believe that they’ve been planted here to alert Heartland to their eventual presence without tipping off Connor and Risa that anything was wrong. That means everyone here will try to stop them if they run, plus more soldiers are likely on the way. There’s a clear opening somewhere behind Heartland, a path out of the park and into the surrounding streets, but they’d have to get past Heartland first.

In order to give himself an opportunity to conjure up an escape plan, though, Connor needs what he has always lacked:  more time. He stares at Heartland, and asks, “How did you find us, then? Did you put a tracker in my blood while you had me in your hospital?”

Heartland scoffs. “And risk damaging the product like that? Certainly not. I will admit, you had me worried when you threw yourself from the window, but as it turns out, I didn’t have to worry. You wanted yourself intact as much as I did.”

Risa scowls protectively. “Don’t act as if you cared about his survival. You just want his pieces.”

Heartland turns to her with an affronted stare. Immediately, Connor wants to say something stupid so the man will focus on him instead. Nothing good comes of Heartland’s gaze, Connor can say that for certain.

“Oh, and you care so much more? Risa Megan Ward, abandoned to a State Home when you were a child. You value the Akron AWOL more than I do? Not just because his survival ensures that you’ll end up alive?”

Risa meets his gaze coolly. “You’re wrong,” she says simply. “I don’t have to prove a damn thing to you. Connor trusts me and I trust him.”

Her expression is completely certain, but Connor swears he still sees her relax microscopically when he adds on, “You can’t turn us against each other, Heartland. Save your tricks for someone who cares.”

Heartland just shrugs. “You’d be surprised how many battle-scarred partners in survival will abandon each other for the opportunity to live. It’s worked before.”

Not for us, Connor thinks decisively. Like every other AWOL before him, he believes at once that the two of them will be the first to actually make it work.

Dorian Heartland ignores this, unaware or perhaps simply not caring that yet another round of teenagers believes that they can save themselves. He’s seen it often enough that it probably doesn’t even register. “No, Connor, I couldn’t track you. I simply had to lay a trap. I was going to ransom your friends from the Graveyard so you’d come to me, but you beat me to it.”

Connor realizes he’s referring to the massacre at the harvest colony. “That wasn’t us,” he blurts out before registering belatedly that he probably shouldn’t give away more than Heartland expressly tells him.

Heartland, however, doesn’t seem surprised by this. “Oh, I know. My men arrived perhaps a few standard hours after you left. They checked the security holos and saw both the attack and your shocked reaction. I must admit, however, that I already guessed it wasn’t you. You two didn’t seem the type for tasteless bloodshed.”

“As opposed to the tasteful bloodshed of unwinding?” Connor fires back. He can see Risa eyeing the exits as well. She’s always been good at planning; so long as he keeps Heartland talking, he gives her more chances to save them. If there’s one thing Connor can do, though, it’s talk. This is fine. It has to be.

Heartland sighs. “You must let go of this unnatural fear of yours, Connor,” he chides. “You don’t run around screaming at cosmic pilots for transcending humanity by exposing people to the horrors of spaceflight, do you? Even though the risks from accidentally entering a wormhole or dying star are far more gruesome than a clinical distribution.”

Connor stares at him, bewildered. “Those aren’t even remotely the same thing. Get better metaphors.”

“If you insist,” Heartland remarks, looking vexingly unbothered by this, “I’ll tell my surgeons to have my next cranial implant come from a writer or a poet. Will that make you feel better?”

Connor wants to tell Heartland in no uncertain terms that something that would make him feel better would involve Connor’s fist going somewhere very nonclinical indeed, but Risa places a gentle hand on his arm, a quiet reminder to cool it, and he manages to swallow back the anger before it consumes him entirely.

“So,” Connor says, fighting the urge to scream, “The trap. It didn’t work.”

Heartland arches a brow dubiously. “Of course it did. You’re here.”

Connor shakes his head, exasperated yet again by the man’s wording. “No, no. The trap with the Graveyard kids. We’re going chronologically. It failed because everyone in the colony was taken.”

“Did it?” Heartland remarks. “Because I still have all of my distributes back with me.”

Too late, Connor realizes that he’s misread the situation again. “Starkey already came back here,” he whispers quietly. “You got them back.”

“Of course I did,” Heartland says mildly. “He fell for the same lie you did. Funny, no matter the technique– blood or bargaining– both of you dropped all of your good sense the moment you heard there were distributes about to die.”

Risa lets out a slow gasp. “You have everybody?”

Strangely enough, Heartland wavers slightly before he answers. “Yes.”

“No,” Connor guesses. “You don’t. Someone escaped. He’s got a big group, someone could have slipped through the cracks.”

At the bright flash of warning in Heartland’s eyes, Connor knows he’s struck it right. Risa grins. “Starkey got away didn’t he? Little starspawn always puts himself first.”

Heartland’s mood has gone sour, and when he starts to move forward, Connor knows that the time for monologuing is over. “It doesn’t matter. He can’t run far. I have you, I have his supporters. All of you will be in pieces by the end of the week. A few hours in between captures makes no difference to me.”

Connor grabs Risa’s hand, throwing himself forward towards the gap he’d seen earlier. Immediately, a few passersby try to block their passage, but they’re both running now, as fast as they can. Connor knocks into somebody as he hurtles back through the park, but he doesn’t check to see who it was. Anyone who isn’t Risa is an enemy now, and anyone in their path will be trampled on their way to freedom.

Something whistles over Connor’s shoulder and buries itself in a nearby synth-hedge. He recognizes the slim dart as he passes, calling out to Risa in between gasps for air, “They’re shooting tranqs at us! Be careful.”

“Always am,” Risa growls under her breath, pulling him around a tight corner. 

The tall gate marking the entrance of the park is within sight, and Connor puts on an extra burst of speed, willing them to get there. They can lose the guards in the streets if they have to, but right now, with everyone so close behind them, there’s no way they could last forever.

As he thinks this, Connor hears a tranq gun fire somewhere behind them, plus the whistle as the dart flies through the air. A quiet thunk sounds, and since Connor can’t feel any pain, he assumes it’s another miss, right up until the point when Risa stumbles and starts to fall.

Immediately, he starts to panic. Connor catches her before she hits the ground. As he helps her up, his hands brush the dart sticking out of her shoulder. “No,” he mutters urgently. Connor needs Risa to be able to run. It’ll be tricky to carry her unconscious body as he sprints through the city, trying to shake the Juvey-cops, but Connor has made the last year or so banking on similar impossibilities. For Risa, he might as well stop distribution altogether while he’s at it.

Clutching Risa to him, Connor stumbles through the gate. They’ll get out, they have to. Risa’s body slides from his arms the second before he’s past the twin iron bar doors, though. Already over the threshold, he spins around to retrieve her, but the doors of the gate slam shut in his face. Belatedly, he realizes that Risa is the one who pulled herself free, and it is Risa now who is locking the gate between the two of them, making sure that no one else can get out. More specifically, she is ensuring that Connor cannot get her back.

Connor tugs desperately at the metal bars of the gate, but they don’t budge. Risa has grabbed a synth-vine from the ground and is knotting it around the handles, taking extra precautions to avoid them opening.

“No!” He screams, voice raw. “Don’t you do this to me, Risa. Don’t you leave me. You promised.”

Connor feels like a child begging for something he can’t have. You promised. But they had promised, both of them, they’d sworn they’d either make it out of this alive or die together. Yet here Risa is now, locking herself and the Juveys on the other side of a wall from him.

Risa tries to answer, but already, her words are slurring, her movements impeded as the tranq works its way through her system. “You– you can’tttt– get both of us outt,” she tells him. “Save yoursellllfff, Connnnnnor. Like you did for meee.”

Connor yells that he won’t do it, he won’t, but the Juveys are upon her already, dragging Risa’s unconscious body back from the doors. It’s too late to save her, and as a gate farther down the length of the park opens up, spilling out cops onto the street about half a block from Connor, he knows that he can’t waste her sacrifice, either.

So, hating himself with every step he takes away from her, Connor turns and runs down the street, pushing himself faster and faster. Connor swears that half of his life has been running at this point. He wonders if he’ll ever stop. He wonders if he will ever forgive himself for not being the one to sacrifice himself for Risa again. He wants to tell her that he wasn’t worth this, not at the cost of her, but she can’t hear him anymore.

Connor skids down a series of alleyways. There are guards everywhere, it feels like, breathing down his back and drawing closer to him with every step he takes. Connor pulls himself up a rickety fire escape so he can use the roofline to skirt over a high gate. After that, it’s easier to drop into a new set of alleys, to cling to the shadows, to shove a hand over his mouth to muffle the wild gasps for breath as the cops go thundering past. Connor’s good at hiding, but hiding won’t save anyone but himself.

Connor sags back against the grimy wall of the back alley as reality comes crashing in again. Risa is gone. The Deadmen who managed to escape their harvest colony when Starkey saved them have been captured once again. Connor is well and truly on his own. What can one boy do to save all of his friends from dying?

Heartland would tell him nothing. Connor’s brain is telling him nothing too, but his heart whispers a different story. He can’t give up hope, not now. Hundreds of AWOLs are counting on him to break them out. Even if it kills him, Connor can at least try.

He pokes his head out of the shadow, risking a glance into the relatively dim light of the alleyway. He doesn’t hear anything, nor see any crowds of Juvey-cops waiting on him, so he creeps out a little farther, taking careful, treacherous steps down the alley and into the sun again.

Connor emerges onto a quiet scene. He can see streets unfurling somewhere in the distance. In between them, an abandoned court for some sports game that was too expensive to make it over to the OH-10 sector. Connor pads onto the smooth ground. He can’t tell what material it is, just firm enough to make him feel like the ground is solid beneath his feet, but giving just enough that he won’t risk injury.

Is this what it means to live at the heart of Centerworld? Forget the synth-gardens and false flowers; they can create entire worlds for themselves, custom-tailor planets and star systems to fit their plans. No wonder Heartland could get away with rewriting his physical body. There is no limit to innovation here, and no limit to how much they’ll strip away from the outer systems to make that happen.

Connor makes it halfway across the court before someone calls his name.

“Connor. Long time, no see.”

The words make the hairs on the back of Connor’s neck stand up. He hasn’t heard that voice in a while, but he’d recognize it anywhere. Even from somewhere behind him in the creeping metal tunnels of the Graveyard. Even glitchy and broken up from a security holo. Even now, on a planet that belongs to neither of them.

Starkey.

Connor turns around slowly, hands raising from his sides to be ready for whatever trouble is about to come his way. “What do you want?”

Starkey chuckles. His hair has gotten brighter since Connor saw him last; lighter, closer to gold than red, like a fire that’s heightened to an inferno. Connor certainly feels as if he’s a bit of pitch and charcoal, crumbling away to ash. How is it fair that Starkey had time to sit around and re-dye the locks while Connor was hurling from star system to star system in an effort to save the people he holds dear? It’s impossible. This confrontation was not supposed to happen yet. Connor needs to direct all of his focus towards saving Risa. There is no room in his plan for tangling with Starkey.

Starkey, like usual, does not seem like he cares much about what Connor wants. “That’s rude, you know. I thought you’d have kinder words for an old friend.”

“We’re not friends,” Connor spits. “Not since you had your little show on that harvest colony.”

Starkey’s grin broadens, clearly delighted. “You saw that? I was wondering if you would. Do you have any constructive criticism? I mean, you’re the king for taking down Juveys, you did do it first, but I think I did mine with a bit more flavor. You were never willing to commit. You can’t save the unwinds without willing to do whatever it takes.”

“And butchery is whatever it takes?” Connor asks dryly. “Funny, I thought that’s what we were trying to stop in the first place.”

Starkey’s incandescent smile flicks out in a second. Connor still feels like the manic grin was creepier than the dead stare, though. At least now, Connor knows what’s coming. They’re not friends and they never have been. The sooner Starkey put away the adoring fan image, the better.

“Don’t tell me you miss the doctors who would have unwound us,” he hisses. “They wanted us in pieces, Connor. They would have taken your organs in a heartbeat, and they sure as sunfire wouldn’t be crying for you like you are for them. Niceness won’t get you anywhere. They don’t have a moral compass, so why should I?”

“It’s not just the distributors you have to win over, it’s the entire galaxy.” Connor tells him. “Can’t you see that? No one will agree to stop distribution if they’re terrified of us. We have to convince people in every single star system that we deserve saving, but so long as you’re bombing out harvest colonies, that’s not going to happen. You have to play the long game.”

Starkey’s eyes flash, and Connor is briefly reminded of the flare of the exploding engines back on the Graveyard right before the whole place went nuclear. “No, Connor, you’re the one who doesn’t get it. They’ll only respond to shows of force. If we stay quiet, we’re easy to ignore. Look, right now I’ll give you the opportunity to take it back. This is your chance for redemption. You’ve been afraid of getting your hands dirty for too long. I’ve never been scared. There are no shades of gray, just black and white. You’re with them or you’re with me. Pick who you want to be, Connor, but either way, you’re not walking out of here as anything but one of my men.”

Connor’s breath feels harsh in his lungs, grating against his ribcage. He can’t join Starkey, he can’t, but what if this is the only way? “One of your men? I wasn’t aware you had an army.”

Starkey’s lip curls. “We’re better than that. They’d follow me everywhere. See, I watched you, Connor. I watched you for a year in the Graveyard. I saw what you did. Those kids loved you, even though you didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t wrap my head around why they’d willingly devote themselves to someone who clearly wasn’t willing to go all the way, but then it hit me. Everyone loves a hero. So I made myself one.”

The dots are connecting in Connor’s head, but the picture they reveal is far more terrible than he’d ever envisioned. “That’s why you sent that message through Hayden’s radio frequency, isn’t it? It wasn’t an accident, you wanted the Juvey-cops to find us. You wanted a showdown.”

“Of course I did,” Starkey sneers. “I’d been planning it for weeks. No accident there. The second the Juveys were sighted, I directed all of my closest followers plus a few extra kids towards one of the shuttles that was still docked in the Graveyard. We got out before shots were even fired. After that, it was easy to track down the harvest colony. Once I swooped in and saved the day, they loved me more than they’ll ever love you. Best decision I ever made.”

Connor wants to kill him. “Sentencing hundreds of kids to distribution, destroying the Graveyard, killing the Admiral– that was the best decision you ever made? People died in the riots. Dozens have already been unwound. All so you could get some hero worship.”

Starkey just shrugs. “Every battle has its casualties. We’re still alive, aren’t we? I knew you would pull through anyway. I hate to say it, but I was counting on it. I always use you to spring the trap. I slipped up this time, I tried to free the kids first, but next time I’ll let you challenge that weirdo before me so I can get it right.”

“What do you mean, next time?” Connor asks, voice tightening. “Just what are you planning?”

Starkey spreads his arms theatrically. “I’m ending it. No more distribution. It was one thing to take out a harvest colony, but with the amount of explosives I’ve got on my ship, I could take out this whole damn city.”

Connor tenses up. “You’re not just targeting the distributors. You want to kill the civilians, too.”

Starkey chuckles remorselessly. “Of course I do. You think I give a damn about Centerworld? Look around you, Connor. Look how much they have that we don’t. This is what they deserve. It’s what we deserve. We’re going to bomb them to pieces. Maybe then they’ll have a deeper appreciation for what it’s like to be unwound.”

“No,” Connor breaks out. “You can’t. He captured Risa. I have to get her back first.”

Starkey lifts a shoulder. “I don’t care, I’m not stopping for one girl. Now come on. You’re either with me,” he says slowly, drifting closer to Connor again, “or you’re against me. Make your choice.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m not joining you, Starkey. If you’ve been watching me this long, you know there’s no way I’d do anything to risk Risa. You killed my friends. You’re no better than the rest of them.”

Starkey’s face shuts down. “Actually, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

Connor sees the flash of Starkey’s hand to his belt right before the first shot rings out. Connor only just manages to drop to the ground and catch himself in a tight roll to the side. He hears the bullet whistle over his head and realizes that Starkey isn’t bothering with tranqs. Only one of them will be leaving this place alive, and since Starkey is the one with the gun, it isn’t looking great for Connor.

Another shot goes in the ground just a few inches from Connor’s head. He springs to his feet, racing towards the nearest exit. Already, the sound of gunfire is attracting attention:  a few heads poke out of nearby windows, and Connor can see the distant silhouettes of passersby pointing out the two of them.

“Stop this,” Connor urges. “I’m not your enemy, you idiot. You’re going to get the Juveys on us again.”

“They’ll only find your body,” Starkey challenges, and fires again.

Swearing violently, Connor throws himself around a corner. The bullet hits the wall, sending forth a shower of sparks and loose debris.

“Come out, Connor, come out,” Starkey calls, his tone a mocking sing-song beat.

Obviously Connor is not about to do this, so he drifts further down the side of the wall. Starkey is just on the other side of him, about to fire again and end it for real, and then his eyes widen and his mouth goes slack with shock.

Too late, Connor peers past him and sees that Juvey-cops have broken into the scene. One is lowering a tranq gun. As Starkey slumps over, Connor can see the dart embedded in his back. Quickly, the cops rush over and restrain him, hauling the boy to his feet. Starkey tries to fight back, but the tranq is slowing him down and it’s easy for the Juvey-cops to get him under control.

Starkey locks eyes with Connor as they drag him away. All of a sudden, his jaw unhinges and he starts to scream at the top of his lungs, spittle flying from his mouth with the force of his yells. “Wait, stop! He’s the one you want, not me! Connor Lassiter is right in front of you. You can get the fucking Akron AWOL. Kill him! Kill Connor! He’s your enemy. He’s the one you want.”

Connor’s eyes widen, and he presses himself further into the shadows. Starkey redoubles his efforts to break free, writhing in the arms of the Juvey-cops even as they pull him farther from Connor. “Get Connor!” Starkey screams again. “You don’t even want me. I didn’t do anything to you. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. Fuck the Juveys. Fuck Centerworld. I’m just a kid.”

Nausea threatens to black him out, and Connor has to press a hand against his mouth to bring himself under control. Starkey disappears down the street, but the rest of the Juveys don’t follow him out of the court. Instead, a few exchange glances, then start to head Connor’s way, evidently wanting to see what Starkey was talking about just in case.

Sunfire. Not what he wanted. Connor turns to run for what might be the hundredth time today, but he has no idea where to go. He’s out of the alleys now. All that’s left is the street lined with luxurious houses, and anyone watching from their gilded windows could tell the Juveys where Connor went. He starts moving anyway, a brisk walk turning into a jog, but there’s nowhere to hide out here.

So he thinks, at least, until a hand latches onto his and starts to drag him away. Connor’s first instinct is to fight, but then he realizes that this mysterious stranger is leading him farther from the cops, not towards them, and he slackens his grip. He doesn’t recognize the teenager, nor the one who joins them half a block down, nor the one at the door of a house who ushers them all through the door and into the relative safety of the building.

Connor does, however, recognize the blond tween who’s waiting for him inside. It’s been a long time since they crossed paths, but when Connor gapes at the boy in front of him, the name that rises to his lips is still the correct one:

“Lev?”

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[theyareweird]

Nurturing Beastman – Chapter 10

Plan A

Veronica smiled slightly, pleased with her work upon seeing her mate clothed in her skin. “Nurturers need to eat every day, right?” She asked.

Onica’s face turned neutral. “Do Nature Beastman not eat every day?”

“Only if we want to.” Veronica replied. “Nature Beastman can go several days or even weeks without eating, if necessary. We don’t have to consume as much as you do either.” She explained.

Onica gawked at this in response. Nature Beastman don’t starve right away? Their bodies don’t deteriorate automatically without food and water? These creatures are nearly invincible! If Onica so much as skipped a meal, they would lose cognitive function and become lethargic. Yet, Nature Beastman are clearly sustained with little nourishment without these consequences because Veronica is built like an ox!

Veronica then turned to leave and started making her way towards the exit. When the snake was by the entrance to the cave, she looked over her shoulder back at Onica. “I’m going to hunt. Wait obediently until I return.” Veronica said sternly before leaving the short person alone.

‘Wait obediently?’ Onica repeated inside their mind. ‘What am I? A dog?’ They mentally scuffed to themself.

With the snake lady gone, Onica determined this was their chance to escape. Noting this, they rolled up their pants and stuffed them into their bag along with their boxers. Onica thought it would be best to only wear their underwear when on their period. Since there was no guarantee Onica would find a suitable replacement for undergarments in this world, they decided to preserve the material as long as possible. Onica then put their shoes and socks back on before tying their jacket around their waist. In minutes, the little person darted out of the cave.

Onica wasn’t physically used to running. Their body is usually too weak and sickly to do such taxing demands. As such, their lungs became heavy and their legs instantly tightened. Despite the pain, Onica pressed on, darting through the jungle. Unfortunately, the ground isn’t level. This made running exceptionally difficult, if not impossible. Onica found themself constantly having to slow down in order to step over rocks and vegetation while going down steep areas. They knew they wouldn’t be able to make much headway before Veronica returned. However, Onica at least hoped this served as a decent distraction long enough for them to disappear into the humid jungle.

All Onica could think about now was being reunited with their friend, Kianna. They also hoped Nayuki is doing fine. Onica seemed to be putting some distance between them and the snake woman. They had no idea where they were going, or which direction the Tiger Tribe was located, but they were sure they would find it eventually.

Suddenly, among the ground crunching underneath their feet, Onica’s labored breaths muffled the swishing sound rapidly approaching them from behind. It wasn’t until their ears caught the sound of grass being ruffled, they realized it was too late. A black object wrapped itself around Onica’s body and restrained them from going further. Gasping out in surprise, their little figure was violently pulled backward and thrown into the arms of the very person they were trying to escape from.

“I caught you.” Veronica said into Onica’s ear as the snake wrapped her arms around her mate from behind. Her voice was a deep, threatening rumble as she spoke.

Onica’s heart hammered in their chest, realizing they ticked Veronica off. They thought they were going to die. Although nature beastman seem to strive for a mate more than anything, Onica didn’t put it past these creatures to rebel against their nature and kill a nurturer if they desired. “I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!” Onica cried.

“Kill you? I would never.” Veronica reassured them. Her arms then spun Onica around. Closing her eyes, Veronica inhaled deeply. “Onica… You smell good.” She exhaled through a sigh. Veronica inched closer, sniffing Onica’s neck by flicking her forked tongue out. The black-haired snake woman then lifted her mate in her arms and lowered their head to follow the scent. The fragrance then morphed into an iron odor. ‘Blood?’ Veronica thought to herself. Lifting Onica’s skirt, she noticed a trail of blood rolling down their left inner thigh. On instinct, Veronica subconsciously licked up the blood.

“Ah! Don’t eat me!” Onica yelled. By this point, they thought the snake was going to swallow them whole. Onica’s eyes began to water at the mere idea of being eaten alive and slowly digested to death.

“Nature Beastman can’t kill nurturers even if we want to.” Veronica emphasized with a harsh glare. This time, she sounded irritated at Onica for not believing her the first time. Due to her mate’s reaction, Veronica’s lower body shifted back into a pair of legs. She then set Onica down and released them from her hold without her tail getting in the way.

Onica frowned. “I’m sorry.” They said, speaking in a higher pitch than usual.

Veronica’s eyes relaxed in response. She then hugged Onica gently and said “Congratulations on starting your uterus cycle.” Veronica was pleased at this because it meant her mate is healthy and finally mature. “We can reproduce once you stop bleeding if you want.” She suggested.

Onica had no idea how Veronica could be angry one second and loving the next. It was perplexing. Yet, Onica’s face paled at Veronica’s words. Are Beastman’s lives truly boring to the point they only have sex and children to look forward to? Regardless, Onica had questions. “How would you do that? Aren’t you a woman?”

“Yes, but I could still impregnate you.” Veronica replied in a flat tone.

Unless Veronica is a highly biological intersex person, Onica knew this should be impossible. “How?” They asked in disbelief.

“Pom-Fig Fruit.” Veronica replied.

Onica dumbfoundedly blinked. They had no idea what the cold blooded shake was talking about. “Huh?” Onica gawked, arching an eyebrow at Veronica.

“If I eat the seed of a Pom-Fig Fruit, my genitals will change and you can conceive my children.” Veronica explained.

Onica’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You’re telling me, you would become a man?” They exclaimed.

Veronica’s thin lips curled into a cheeky smile. “No. I’d still identify as a woman, but my genitals would be different for however long I decide to keep them that way. I can always return to normal by consuming the seed again.”

It all made sense now. As crazy as everything sounded, Onica finally understood how Nurturers could pursue same-sex relationships without it damaging birthrates. This also shedded light on how beasts could comprehend gender identity. Of course, like humanity, beast-kind simply have these things integrated into their natures. These creatures were lucky enough to recognize things like sexuality as normal without having to kill each other over their hated differences as humans have historically done.

“I don’t want to get pregnant! I’m not a woman!” Onica blurted.

“You don’t identify as a woman?” Veronica repeated.

Onica violently shook their head. “No. I’m genderless!” They proclaimed.

Veronica nodded in understanding. “Then, we won’t have penial sex. I don’t care for children anyway.” She replied with a small smile.

Onica still wasn’t happy about the ordeal. Based on Veronica’s words, they needed to be more specific. “I don’t want sex at all!” Onica protested.

Veronica’s smile quickly vanished from her face. She thought her mate was disgusted by their appearance or was convinced she couldn’t please them intimately. “Why?” Veronica asked with a hint of sadness in her purple eyes.

Realizing they might have hurt her feelings, Onica held up their hands. “It’s nothing against you, Veronica! You’re beautiful, it’s just I’m asexual.” They awkwardly admitted, averting their eyes elsewhere. Onica pursed their lips and clasped their hands in front of them. This wasn’t the kind of conversation they would be having with a stranger.

“Then, I won’t touch you.” Veronica stated. She may not have expressed this, but she was flattered at the complement. Veronica knew her mate liked her, they were simply being a bit shy.

Thanks to this new information, Veronica knew exactly how they were going to mark Onica when she felt the time was right. She may not like the idea of excluding oral sex, or consummation altogether, but her mate hadn’t outright rejected her yet. This meant Veronica still has a chance of building on their relationship before making their marriage official. 

She was thrilled to have discovered there weren’t any spousal tattoos anywhere on Onica’s body while she was dressing them earlier. This meant Veronica could become their only mate. Even though nurturers were meant to have multiple partners for a number of survival reasons, snake beastman were highly possessive beings. Veronica was certain she would be and do everything Onica needed to ensure they never felt the desire to take a second mate or more.

If Onica had other mates prior to meeting her, the black rainbow snake would have had to deal with being ranked by number, power, usefulness and favoritism. All of which would determine Veronica’s place in the family. They would have had no choice but to accept the situation upon confirming the nurturer’s romantic orientation and sexuality. Luckily for Veronica, things seemed to be working in her favor.

Onica hummed in an upsetting manner. They felt bad for Veronica. Although Onica didn’t view this relationship as anything legally binding, they knew the world of beasts perceived marriage differently. As such, Onica understood they had told Veronica they would never have intercourse with them despite being her “spouse.” The reality must be heartbreaking for the snake, but Onica couldn’t change themself. They especially weren’t going to sacrifice their morals or do anything uncomfortable for someone else’s societal norms. “I’m sorry.” Onica said in a low voice.

“Don’t be sorry for being yourself.” Veronica said, scooping Onica back up into her arms.

With that, Veronica carried Onica back to the nest in the hidden cave. When the two were inside, she pressed the little person up against one of the cave walls. Onica was intimidated by the kabedon action by a naked woman. Veronica had one hand against the wall while her other hand forcefully tilted Onica’s head up by their chin to look up at her. At this point, the snake was being quite forward with her affectionate advances. “I forgive you. Don’t try running anymore. You’re not going to succeed. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Veronica said in a calm, but stern tone. She concluded if Onica ever attempted to run away again, she would start taking her mate with her on hunts to prevent injury. Fortunately, the blood wasn’t from a cut and Veronica let the incident go.

“I need cotton.” Onica blurted in a soft voice.

“I’ll return with cotton and food for you later. Be patient.” Veronica concluded.

Kianna Komori OC by: @nunezs-stuff

[shiigures-a]

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄

type of bed: A canopy with pink and purple accents woven in. It was gifted from the men of G5 for one of her birthdays and also celebrating her rank from sergeant to captain. She really hates it but functionally, the canopy and curtains keep the bed warmer, and screen it from light and sight. The canopy bed came to be from a concern for her well being and privacy, since she's the only woman in the base.

number of blankets: A knitted one that comes from her past. Yes, it's screams emo Dracula vibes and has a shape of a cross next to a giant Yoru picture but it reminds her of her second home of living in Kuraigana island.

number of pillows: Too many to count. Some are animal shaped like penguins, rabbits, geckos and foxes. The men of G5 keeps buying her them, claiming her to be a princess. But she rather be the pea, because Tashigi cannot sleep with her sinking into the bed, like it's going to swallow her up every night.

type of clothing: Athletic sportswear tank top and gray to light gray sweatpants that have words on the sides of them. She is the most comfy and relaxed while sleeping and doesn't have any hair ties so it goes down past her shoulders and there are no glasses in sight.

does it matter where they sleep?: She can't sleep if there is a lot of noise. Being on decks and other public places really stresses her out normally so it's uped to eleven when she is trying to sleep and is less guarded.

what do they do if they cannot fall asleep?: She goes out and trains her swordwomanship. Why waste time panicking if you can use that hour or two productively. Also exercise is a good way to make someone tired if they do it long enough. She has to be careful not to pass out while not in her room though since Tashigi has done that several times before.

frequent dreams, nightmares: Good dreams are when she obtains the Wado Ichimonji and finally beats Zoro or that he takes her seriously and ends her. 99 percent of nightmares are Zoro focused. Mostly of him dying before she herself can be the one to kill him. Others are that her shirt pops open and everyone can see her chest. She's really self conscience so any outfit malfunction is very nightmarish to Tashigi.

deep slumber or naps: Mostly naps. Her job doesn't allow too much sleep as they are always in high alert. Their duty to hunt down pirates is somewhat of a 24/7 job as the offending parties don't really rest and neither does justice.

when do they sleep: They will sleep when they are dead.....or if someone forces her to take a day off to catch up. She spends the whole day in bed and doesn't get up unless Tashigi needs a bathroom break. Is totally starving on the next and can eat about most anything, she's that hungry.

what could wake them up: Someone trying to take her swords. They are more valuable than her own life. You mess with the blades, they are going right through anyone that dares touch them without her permission. Otherwise: Roronoa Zoro :3

tagged by: @ravarui tagging: @sozokami @kaizokugaris @electricea @cauterisen @flambace @melodysian @hauntedreality @celestiialnotes and whoever else wants to do it c:

[hornedadvance]

Horned Advance

Chapter 2 - Ashes

Three weeks had passed since the torching. Palo had spent the time nursing Quinn back to a state just barely outside of what could be called critical condition, with Quinn regaining her ability to move around as she did. The girl had begun to help around the… ‘house,’ if you could call it that; the structure being a hole in a cliff face deep within a forest, with a thatch door leant unsteadily against the stone wall concealing the entrance. She walked around in a sort of limp-shuffle, her muscles and bones perfectly intact but her flesh scorched in a way that made fine movements excruciating. Her body had begun healing but she was still not by any means healthy, a shaky fragility reflected in her every action.

The girl insisted on doing what she could to assist Palo, refilling the oil lamp hung loosely from the ‘ceiling’ of what was now their cave home, grinding down herbal pastes and cooking scraps of anything edible Palo could find for the day. She’d been out for particularly long on this day, returning hours after the sun had set. “Look what I got me for t’day Quinn!” She called, shifting the thatch door and presenting a whole hare, fur and all. Quinn had been preoccupied sewing a loose rag of Palos when she walked in, paying no heed to her presence. “Still no dice, huh..” The horned girl spoke, approaching her friend from behind. “QUINN!!!! LOOKY HERE!!!” She roared, so loud that the villagers might have heard. The human girl turned around this time, facing Palo and spotting her catch. Quinn looked displeased for a moment, perhaps taking pity on the animal, before perking up again. “We’ll be eating well tonight then!” She said with a cheerful grin, speaking louder than would ever be necessary. “Leave the cooking to me, Paly.”

“Will do,” Palo responded, taking her leather boots off and setting her hunting knife down on a stone table, “-Don’t want a repeat of last time.” 

The pair had entered a sort of mutual reliance in their time together, Quinn keeping Palo’s life in some degree of order and Palo putting her physique and skillset to use, foraging, hunting and stealing to provide for the both of them. Naturally, the baker’s kid had a knack for cooking, the forest critter having no aptitude for it. Palo had never been picky when it came to meals, she’d eat what she had to in order to get through the day. This didn’t diminish her appreciation of Quinn’s presence however, as the girl’s touch seemed to make everything taste better. The two of them had long since been fond of one another, but their bond had never been tested  so dramatically before now. Thankfully though, they worked well in tandem, cleaning up after one another while Quinn slowly got back to a functional state.

Palo had been doing her best to ensure that the cave stayed warm and that Quinn’s stomach stayed full during this time. She’d said that it was just what a good friend would do but in actuality it was the feeling that sat deep in her stomach that drove her to push the extra step. She looked at Quinn, seeing the burns peeking through beneath the collar of the clothes she’d been wearing and felt a grave sense of guilt. It made her want to cry, knowing that she’d caused this trauma to the only person to have shown her compassion thus far, but Palo knew well that it would be a disservice to Quinn’s brave heart to break down in front of her.

They sat together on the log stump chairs around the stone table in the cave that night and Palo had made up her mind on where she wanted to go from here. “Quinn…” She muttered, patting the shoulder of her companion to get her attention. “Quinn-” She repeated, raising her voice loud so her friend could hear her this time, “Yer hearing Quinn… Yer scars too. This’ my fault.” Quinn shook her head and went to speak, but Palo shushed her with a finger to her lips. “I know yer gonna try to absolve me of any fault here. ’s just what yer like… But I’m serious about this. I’m gonna fix things… Best I can ‘least.” The critter pulled a scrumpled paper from beneath her scrappy leather belt and unwrapped it, pointing out the sketch in the middle of the page. “Muvazani- That shifty trade city ‘cross the river. They’ll have something that can help you there. They have to.” She said, trying to hide the uncertainty in her voice. “I’ll fix yer hearing, and I’ll fix yer scars, and I’ll build you a new home- a new bakery, by hand if I have to. I… I promise.” Quinn looked away for a moment, dodging the intense, sincere gaze of Palo’s scarlet eyes, before darting back to face her. The girl said no words, simply taking Palo’s calloused hand and holding it between the two of her own. Palo felt the warmth of the girl’s clutches for an instant, followed by the cold splashes dripping from her face. Tears ran down Quinn’s cheeks, and a warped expression of both anguish and appreciation spread itself across her face. She took a moment to wipe her tears, letting Palo have her hand back, before meekly uttering the best response she could.

“Thank you.”

Next Chapter

Link to All Chapters

[nieithryn]

Man, I am trying to write replies, and all that fills my head currently is how sad it is that Boba goes from being such an open, heart-on-his-sleeve kid to having to lock down all those emotions Elsa-style from his time in prison (at 12!!!) onward.

This was a kid who couldn't help but beg not to be left by a cruel bounty hunter, who couldn't help but tell a Jedi master "She left me" in the saddest voice ever. Who showed every bit of annoyance and doubt in his body-language and face as things he didn't like began to happen. This kid expressed everything he felt so openly, and you know that means Jango didn't tell him to 'man-up' about any of it, didn't criticize him for it.

Boba was an only child to a single parent who loved him more than life itself, and he knew he was loved and treasured.

And then he was lied to, used and abandoned by Aurra Singh. Went to prison. And there's a shift in him. He learns to hide his emotions. Learns to mask them with annoyance or just shove them down until he isn't even acknowledging them to himself. That's how he survived bounty hunting as a teenager. How he made it through prison (even with Bossk and Cad Bane's help, that's a lot to try and survive for a kid that young in an adult prison).

He learns to conceal it, push it down, and pretend he doesn't care until functionally, he basically doesn't. Not until someone breaks through those layers of armor he's built around his heart. And that's tragic because he was just such a good kid. Sheltered but loved. And he went from being a bit naive and sheltered to being put in prison and having to build those walls just to survive.

Anyway I'm rambling but Boba Fett makes me much sadder than his dad does. And that's an achievement.

[emi-writings]

Burning Iron and Honey Sweet Promises: Chapter Four

Quackity perspective chapter!

Quackity hated the new moon night.

Usually? No, usually he gave no fucks because he was in his palace, and barely affected by the weakening of his powers. He still remained the most powerful creature in his entire court, so why would he care? But this new moon had been different. He was trapped in iron chains, in an iron cage, in an iron box. While the constant visits from Lapis had given him something to work with, iron sickness had finally set in without his powers to ward it off. Even though the spell jar hidden away in his boot worked overtime in an attempt to save him, he knew he wouldn’t have long. A few days at most, before the iron sickness finally got to him.

The Unseelie King had thought he had been hallucinating when he heard gentle chimes.

That was until he realized that the chimes he heard rang in a specific way and sounded louder each time it ran. Almost, as if it approached him from the ladder he had been thrown down at the entrance to the cellar. It confused Quackity. Sure, bells could be used to repel fae – but the bells that repelled them were heavy iron bells, not gentle wind chimes. In fact, everyone knew the melodic sound of wind chimes had a risk of attracting fae. Hunters would have known that though. Were they trying to taunt him? Tease him with something he wanted, but couldn’t reach?

Quackity had no intention of going down without a fight. They might have gotten him onto death’s door, but he was still a monarch. If he pushed it, he might have been able to take out one of the hunters with him. He lived a decent life, and he knew that his court would be able to function without him. He wasn’t completely certain who he wanted his power and title to go through, but they would be fine. The only regret he had was that he wouldn’t get to see Lapis one last time. As the lock to his room clicked, he felt his talons sharped.

His jaw nearly dropped when the door opened and revealed who was on the other side.

Multiple thoughts ran through his head at the beautiful stranger dressed in his colors, covered in rubies, who chimed with every movement he made. The first thought had been if the stranger was a fae. Not from his court, he’d recognize one of his fae from a mile away. A solitary fae that decided that it liked the Unseelie Court aesthetic was a possibility, if a fae became solitary of their own free will rather than banishment it was possibly they were bold enough to just dress however they wanted. Then he thought the stranger must have been a half-fae, as no true fae could have withstood the iron. Then he wondered if this was a hunter, one that wanted to torment him in multiple ways, and had started with psychological.

But his instincts soon corrected him on all fronts.

Pretty. Shiny. Mine. All mine. Pretty for me? So pretty.

Yeah, he knew who he looked at after that. His instincts around most of the hunters were usually more violent, the thoughts of a caged animal. There had only been one fae hunter who hadn’t caused his instincts to lash out viciously and wildly, and, coincidentally, it was the one hunter who didn’t hunt. Lapis. And he really couldn’t disagree with his instincts – the witch looked breathtaking, and Quackity wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him tightly.

“Not that I hate your usual look, but you’re looking absolutely lovely tonight, Lapis” Quackity greeted.

The witch pouted, “I was hoping to at least catch you by surprise. How did you even recognize me?”

For some reason, Quackity thought he should probably leave out the part where his instincts had gotten so attached to the witch that they wanted him – wanted to be with him – so they had recognized him.

“Not many hunters have been visiting me with food, water and healing supplies” Quackity said instead, “Though you look like you have brought a lot more than usual. I thought you weren’t able to visit tonight?”

Not that Quackity minded, given how beautiful he looked.

“I was able to sneak away after my ritual, though I didn’t have time to get changed – hence the outfit. And I brought a couple of extra supplies tonight since I knew it would be hard on you” Lapis answered.

The Unseelie King made a mental note to look forward to every future new moon until he was freed or dead.

Quackity smiled, “Clever and pretty. I knew there was a reason I liked you.

“Shut up!” the witch stuttered, visibly flustered.

The Unseelie King couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Lapis blushing in front of his very eyes. Throughout all their past encounters, Quackity could have only guessed what expressions the witch had been making underneath his mask. He could have only guessed what reason he had for wearing the mask in the first place. While the fae hadn’t noticed anything about the witch that would make a fae more likely to target him, the witch had quickly proven to be terribly expressive. Everything was laid bare for the fae to read. It was different from the hunters, who always looked like they wanted to curse your entire bloodline. Lapis was cute.

As he watched the witch decorate his prison with some candles in specific corners, and laid out a bunch of different tools, he felt a wave of nausea and pain overcome him. If he hadn’t been forced to stand from the chains, he would have keeled over from the agony that settled in his guts. Instead, he had to contend with the burning on his wrists and throat, where his skin made direct, unprotected contact with the cold iron restraints. He was slightly dragged out of the pain by a gentle touch on his cheek, a hand that cupped his face.

“Are you alright? Q?”

Quackity looked up at the witch in front of him, “Iron sickness.”

Those two words had been all he needed to say. Anyone who knew anything about the fae knew of iron sickness – a fae that had been in contact with iron for too long usually suffered from this horrible ailment. It wasn’t always fatal, if the fae afflicted could get away from all iron, they would be fine after resting for a long, long time. But both of them knew that Quackity couldn’t afford that luxury. At least Quackity got to spend what could have been his last night alive with the witch, he could pass on without any regrets.

Or, at least, that had been what he had been thinking until he felt the witch’s hands around his throat, and then felt the collar and chain fall. His head snapped up, finally unrestricted as the witch’s hands shifted up to the chains around his wrist. The witch that had usually touched Quackity with a slight hesitance had disappeared as he held tightly to unlock the chains that bound the fae.

“Lapis?! What are you doing?!”

“You know what I’m doing��� the witch gave him a hard glare, “The new moon and iron are killing you, and I can only help with one of those things. So shut up and let me do this.”

“You really are surprising,” Quackity replied.

As soon as Quackity’s hands were free, he didn’t hesitate to reach out through the bars and cup the witch’s face in his hands. The witch froze under his touch, but he could resist the urge. Everything shimmered in the lantern light, and the transparent cloak meant that nothing was obscured from Quackity’s gaze. And slowly the witch melted into Quackity’s curious touch. The fae almost purred in satisfaction, Lapis was charming in this state. The way he usually carried himself made him look small and vulnerable despite the clear height that should have had him towering over everyone. At least like this he looked happy.

“You need to eat. And to drink” the witch said slowly, “I need to tend to your injuries and cast healing spells.”

With great reluctance, Quackity withdrew his hands, “You do what you need to do then. Just don’t push yourself too hard, you’ve already casted spells tonight.”

Quackity ignored the way his instincts screeched at him to hold him, cherish him, spoil him, and instead focused on getting himself fed as the witch set something up around him. While the witch had already set up four different colored candles around the room, he placed different crystals carved to look like pillars and hearts around the Unseelie King’s cage. Quackity noticed that the meal the witch had prepared for him that night was another meat-based meal, with some honey glazed fruit on the side.

When I escape, Quackity thought, I will repay his kindness tenfold. He will want for nothing once I’m done with him.

The Unseelie Fae took a sip out of the water bottle and his surprise must have been evident, because the witch commented, “I added in a bit of full moon water into your enchanted water. It should help.”

“I can tell” Quackity hummed, “It’s got a real kick this time.”

The witch nodded, “Right. I’m going to cleanse the area in preparation for the spell work, so you’re going to need to be silent.”

“Got it. I can keep quiet” Quackity agreed.

Oh, Quackity could keep quiet with the show the witch had on display for him. Bells were used by witches for cleansing, everyone who knew the basics of witchcraft knew that. But Quackity hadn’t thought a witch could use bells the way Lapis used them in that moment. The witch danced around the room is a way that the Unseelie King could only describe as bewitching. Every movement was purposeful and calculated, yet beautiful and elegant. Every sway, every twirl, every dip. The way he moved his hands, the way he moved his legs. Everything came together to create a beautiful song that cleansed the space around him.

When the witch had clearly finished, he grabbed a couple of matches off the floor, and walked over to the green candle. Quackity, meanwhile, had decided to make himself useful and apply salves and bandages to his wounds. He was confident in the witch’s abilities, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to add a little something extra just to be on the safe side. Besides, it would mean that the witch wouldn’t have to push himself so hard.

Lapis lit a green candle, “Here and now, I call to the spirit of earth. Sand and stone. Mountain and dust. I call you forth, the soil of fertility and growth, to lend me your strength and stability in my task. Grow my prayer. Grow my will. Grow my power. Earth, I call you to this circle.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Quackity saw the witch light a blue candle, “Here and now, I call to the spirit of water. Dewdrop and lake. Rivers and springs. I call you forth, you that is ever shifting, that wears canyons in stone. Wash away any pain. Wash away any illness. Wash away any wounds. Water, I call you to this circle.”

The witch remained out of sight, “Here and now, I call to the spirit of fire. Forge and soot. Lightning and hearth. I call you forth, flames of creativity and passion. The dancing source of heat, light and life. Burn away any pain. Burn away any illness. Burn away any wounds. Fire, I call you to this circle.”

Lapis returned to Quackity’s vision, and lit a yellow candle, “Here and now, I call to the spirit of air. Breath and song. Feathers and winds. I call to the summer breeze and the roaring wind. You that is ever-dancing, with your swirling gifts of both song and silence. Carry my prayer. Carry my will. Carry my power. Air, I call you to this circle.”

“I call to you, the elements that make up this world. I evoke you. Earth. Water. Fire. Air. I ask that you heal and purge all ailments. I ask you that you heal and purge all sickness. I ask that you heal and purge all pains. So mote it be!” the witch finished.

Quackity felt the magic rush through him, powerful and free. Lapis clearly proved to be a powerful and talented witch. Of course, Quackity knew that most witches considered the natural elements ‘safe magic’, but it still took a lot of talent to weave them the way Lapis had. Quackity could smell the earth, the ocean. He could feel the heat, the wind. Everything came together in a beautiful display of magic that left him feeling stronger, more powerful, healthier. The iron sickness had faded for now, though as long as he stayed in the cage, it wouldn’t be long before it returned.

“How are you feeling?” the witch rushed over to his side, “I don’t have a lot of supplies, so I kind of had to improvise there. Did it work?”

“I’m feeling better than I have in a long, long time,” Quackity answered.

The witch examined his injuries thoroughly, clearly checking to make sure the injuries were wrapped up nicely. Once the witch was certain that everything was done to his standards, he nodded and smiled, “Great! Let’s try something more specialized to you. Do you know which element you’re connected to the most?”

“Fire” Quackity didn’t hide his smugness.

Lapis rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to know what you’re thinking…”

“Fire and water – we could make some steam together,” Quackity grinned.

“I’m regretting every effort I’ve made to help you” the witch groaned, “Can you go five minutes without flirting?”

“I am incapable of lying,” the fae replied with a straight face.

“That does not mean you have to flirt with me,” Lapis sighed.

Quackity shrugged, “My court is weakened when we restrain ourselves rather than give into our desires. It could literally kill me not to flirt with you, especially when you’re visiting me looking like that.”

“I’m just going to set up the healing spell” Lapis said as he turned to rummage through his bag.

The witch grabbed a bunch of candles, these ones were pure white, and he created a circle around the cage with them. He set up a couple of different crystals in between each of the candles, the Unseelie King guessed that they were healing correspondences. He wondered for a moment if this was another improvised spell, or if he actually had the materials for a specific one prepared. When the witch had finished, he grabbed a set of matches and prepared to light the candles.

Lapis lit the first candle, “With this candle, I call the power of fire to purge away all ailments.”

He moved onto the second one, “With this candle, I call the power of fire to burn away all ailments.”

Then the third candle was lit, “With this candle, I call the power of fire to provide strength and resilience.”

The fourth candle was lit, “With this candle, I call the power of fire to protect from all that would harm.”

He lit the fifth candle, “With this candle, I call the power of fire to scorch and singe all that would harm.”

Lapis ended with the sixth and final candle, “With this candle, I call the power of fire to power my will, power my desire, power my command. I call the power of fire to—fuck!”

The witch quickly shook his hand to blow out the match as he hissed in pain. Once finished, he dropped the match he held and stuck his fingers into his mouth. The Unseelie King hadn’t needed to use magic to figure out what had happened. While Lapis had been casting, he hadn’t paid attention to the mask, and had burnt his fingers a little bit. Quackity could almost laugh at the irony, the witch hurt himself casting a spell of healing. Instead, he kept his amusement to himself for the moment.

“Here, let me see” Quackity reached out and gently took hold of the witch’s wrist.

“You don’t have to—” the witch started.

Quackity shook his head, “You’ve played nurse to me plenty of times, it’s about time I returned the favor.”

The Unseelie King slowly moved the tips of the witch’s fingers to his lips, before he pressed the fingertips against them. He channeled his healing magic to that specific spot, felt the rush of magic, and noticed the human go from tense to immediately relaxed in his grip. He almost collapsed against the cage until Quackity caught him. The poor thing must have overexerted himself with that last spell, especially if he had used his magic beforehand to bless iron weapons for fae hunting. Quackity used his gentle hold to funnel some magic into him. If he woke up tomorrow with signs of magical exhaustion, someone would have to notice and get concerned. At least, he hoped someone would.

“There we go. Now what have we learned from that experience?” Quackity teased, “You don’t play with fire, unless you want to get burned.”

“Have you used magic on me before? This feels familiar” Lapis said as he melted into Quackity’s arms.

“Hm? Oh, I know what you’re thinking of” Quackity laughed a little, “Sorry, fae are beings of pure magic. We tend to just naturally emit magic. When a human touches us, they tend to absorb our natural magic. I thought you knew about this, isn’t that why hunters try to avoid skin contact?”

Lapis hummed lazily, “Is that why witches tend to work with fae?”

“Yep. It’s an easy deal, the witch gets an extra boost to their power at the cost of having to hold a fae’s hand for a few minutes” the Unseelie King answered.

“And there are no side effects?” the witch tried to look skeptical, though he failed.

“Are you not feeling any side effects?” Quackity asked in return.

The witch hummed again, “Head feels warm. And thick. Like honey.”

“That’s a side effect of having too much pumped into you at once. It will settle soon, and you’ll be able to cast more spells, more enchantments, more magic” Quackity continued.

“Have you been doing this intentionally?” the witch asked.

“Not at first, no. I just couldn’t stop it without hindering my healing abilities” Quackity admitted, “Then I figured that giving the guy that uses healing magic an extra boost to his own magic would be beneficial to me.”

This should not be affecting you as much as it is, Quackity thought privately, not unless you’re desperate for affection.

Quackity hadn’t noticed at first how affected the witch had been the first time they had touched. It had been easy to brush off given the circumstances, especially when the witch revealed that he had been somewhat sheltered. The fae had been more focused on trying to work out why the man before him hadn’t been forced to the front lines of duty, why the man before him had been sequestered away in the village, away from fae sight. Now Quackity had a couple of answers to those questions, and he had more opportunities to notice the human’s reaction. As a witch, Lapis should have been able to handle a lot more of Quackity’s touch without succumbing to the side effects. The fact that he wasn’t, concerned the fae.

“How did you know my element was water? I don’t think I mentioned it before…” the witch trailed off, potentially just struggling to remember their previous conversations.

“Okay, that’s a bit too much for you now” Quackity said and pulled away a bit, as tempted as he was to give the witch more, “And it’s kind of obvious. You talk about moon work a lot, which goes well with water-based magic. Your most powerful healing spell is water based. You’re wearing silver now, which also corresponds to water. There is also your personality.”

“Water is adaptable and yielding, it can be gentle, but it can also be a destructive force of nature. And while you might disagree, I think you’re far more capable than anyone realizes, Lapis” Quackity explained, “And the way we interact – you calm the flames of my rage, keeping it from consuming me. You help relax me and heal me; you wash away pain. You bring stability to me. Lapis, you really are so talented.”

“Wilbur.”

Wilbur?

The witch froze for a moment after he had spoken the name. Then he pulled himself away from the Unseelie King, terrified as the adrenaline cut through all the warmth that coursed through him at that moment. Quackity felt his heart ache in sympathy at the fear and horror that marked the witch’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to get offended or hurt at the lack of trust, he knew Wilbur had plenty of good reasons behind his behavior. Instead, he tried to remain calm, and thought of the best way to deal with this slip up.

Well, there was something that he could do.

“Wilbur, huh? Not what I would have guessed, yet strangely fitting” Quackity offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “If you want, I could use your True Name to have you change your True Name, so that this one holds no power anymore?”

Slowly, very slowly, the fear on the witch’s face faded away into confusion. The King of the Unseelie Court watched on silently, he refused to offer up anything more. Wilbur was incredibly clever, it was better for him to let Wilbur work out what he meant than explain it – the more words used, the more the witch will have to sort through to see if there are any loopholes that could be exploited. Eventually, the witch’s breathing evened out, and he moved himself in a more comfortable seating position, closer to Quackity, but not as close as he had been before. The fae felt his smile become far more genuine.

“No, it’s fine” Wilbur tilted his head, “You’re nothing like what I expected.”

“Neither are you, so it evens out” Quackity replied.

Wilbur paused for a moment, “You know… if you’re not going to use it against me, or to control me… you can call me by my name.”

“Do you like when I call you Wilbur? I can do that more often” the fae king grinned, “Wilbur.”

“Let’s focus on you and your health” Wilbur countered with a red face, “How are you feeling after giving me some magic? Do you think another healing spell is needed, or are you safe for now?”

“I’m fine, Wil. But if you have anything in that bag of yours that you want to show me, I won’t mind” Quackity said as he stretched more comfortably, “I love it when you talk about things you're passionate about.”

The witch made a noise at the nickname, “You are a menace.”

“You adore me, you know it” Quackity teased further.

Red stained the witch’s cheeks even further.

So pretty in red, his instincts chirped.

And now Quackity would be thinking about Wilbur in a red ritual getup. He had that to look forward to.

“Yeah, you’re definitely feeling better” the witch rolled his eyes – and Quackity got distracted by them for a moment – before he pulled out a small bag, “How about we do a reading?”

Quackity had to fight an eager grin, “I would love nothing more.”

The witch clearly nodded as he began to shuffle the cards, and Quackity watched on curiously – he had never been able to witness a tarot card reading before, so he had become eager to figure out what it would be like. Wilbur somehow managed to make shuffling cards look elegant, it was obvious he was well practiced. When the witch had become satisfied with his work, he pulled out three cards and placed them before Quackity. He then put his deck away for the time being, before he looked up at the fae.

“We’re just going to start with a simple three-card spread. These cards will represent your past, present and future” Wilbur explained.

Quackity nodded, “Interesting. Go on.”

The witch flipped over the first card, “The Chariot – in the past, you had been a man who took action, someone who pursued his goals with a fierce dedication to bring them to fruition. A man of great success and willpower.”

“Well, don’t I just sound great. I’m really liking these cards of yours” Quackity smirked.

“The Eight of Swords” Wilbur rolled his eyes at the second card he flipped over, “So, you’re trapped right now, is what it’s saying.”

“No, really?”

“Shut it” Wilbur said with a tone, before he flipped over the final card, “The… The Lovers.”

“So, what does this one mean?” Quackity asked with a feigned expression of innocence.

The witch glared, bright read, “I’m sure you can figure it out, no need to bore you with the details.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I am finding this very fascinating,” Quackity smiled.

The witch huffed, “You’re terrible.”

“You adore me, and you know it” Quackity taunted in a sing-song tone.

Adore him, treasure him, his instincts trilled, give him everything he deserves.

Instead Quackity just placed his hand over the witch’s, “I hope you know… whatever you see in those cards, I know I’m happy with it. Everything that I’ve suffered through has been made worth it just by meeting you.”

“You can’t possibly mean that” Wilbur stuttered.

Quackity’s hand moved to gently lift the witch’s head so they made eye contact, “Then I couldn’t have said it.”

Wilbur’s face flushed a bright red, and he pulled back out of the fae’s reach as he gathered his tarot cards together. Quackity obviously allowed the action and lowered his hand away from the witch. As much as his instincts purred every time they made contact, the fae knew that humans could find a fae’s touch overwhelming, especially if they were touch starved. So, he let the witch take some time to gather his thoughts.

“As the King of the Unseelie Court, don’t you have better options?” the witch asked, “I’m really not anything that special.”

“Do you truly believe that? Because I have never met anyone like you, and I can’t imagine anyone else by my side. I want you. That’s not something that I say lightly” Quackity answered.

The witch took a deep breath, “I’m engaged.”

What?

HUNTMAIMKILLDISMEMBERMUTILATE, his instincts hissed.

“Oh,” Quackity said instead, “I didn’t realize.”

HUNT HUNT HUNT HUNT, his instincts continued.

Honestly, Quackity wanted to roll his eyes at his instincts – he physically couldn’t hunt down whoever was engaged to Wilbur, what would screeching at him accomplish?

“It’s not like a loving union or anything” Wilbur continued, “It’s more of a convenience thing that was set up by our parents.”

“So, I’m not making you uncomfortable, and you’re not cheating on someone?” Quackity queried.

Wilbur laughed a little at that, “I find you ridiculous and over the top with the flirting. But no, not necessarily uncomfortable. And I highly doubt my wife-to-be will be particularly torn up about this since I know she’s gone farther with some of the other girls in the village.”

“Good for her” Quackity replied, “I’m sure she deserves it.”

No hunt?, his instincts asked. 

Who even is there to hunt?, Quackity asked back. 

The Unseelie King was grateful for many things in that moment. The first, was that he had learned how to reject any impulsive, intrusive instincts that were inflicted upon him without being too restrained for his court. The second was that the witch had actually freed him from the iron enough to cure his iron sickness. If Wilbur hadn’t done that, who knows what would have happened to Quackity with the need to deny such instincts? Unable to truly act upon them because of a cage, a salt ring, a room with iron doors. Quackity would have been screwed. 

“She’s nice enough, anyway. Living with her wouldn’t be… unbearable…” Wilbur sighed, “I just thought, since you seem like you’re a bit more serious than I thought…”

“Dead serious. I know I’m a flirt, but if you need me to prove how serious I am, I can do it” Quackity took the witch’s hand and placed a gentle kiss to it, “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Wilbur looked away, “I just… I don’t know, I feel like this won’t last once you’re free – whether it’s because you’re just manipulating me to free you, or you just think you like me because I’m the only one showing you kindness right now and it’ll fade when you go back to your court… I don’t know.”

Quackity had to shove down the bit of ire he felt, and rubbed a comforting circle into Wilbur’s palm, “I’d like to think I know myself enough to know if I’m only attracted to someone because of their kindness. And if I wanted to use you to free me, may I remind you that I no longer have to manipulate you if I want if I want something? I would just have to use your name against you.”

“I know that. But this isn’t how my life is supposed to go,” the witch’s face fell as he slumped a little forward, “I’m supposed to just do my duties, provide more witches and hunters to the village to fight against fae threats, not…”

“Not what?” Quackity prompted. 

“Be selfish. Heal a fae. Talk to a fae. There are a lot of things I’m not supposed to do here,” Wilbur shifted a bit closer, as if to lean into the touch once more, “I’m not supposed to want things for myself.”

Wrath coursed through Quackity’s veins in that moment, his instincts hissing and cursing in agreement. The more he got to know this witch, the more he knew the humans that surrounded him were undeserving of him. If he were Quackity, the witch would be allowed whatever he desired – the finest tools for his craft, as many crystals as he could stand, beautiful clothes so he could dance beneath the light of the full moon, protected by the Unseelie Court. What Quackity wouldn’t give to tuck him away in his nest and let him rest like he deserves. The hunters weren’t worthy of such a gift, and it really was a shame. 

Could he say as much to the witch, without the witch immediately jumping to conclusions of kidnapping? Probably not, but the fae could still think it. 

“I would give you the world if I could” Quackity says instead, bleeding as much warmth and honey in his voice.

“Q…” Wilbur trailed off.

Quackity decided to cut him off, “What will your wedding be like?”

“What?”

“Your wedding. Fae have our own traditions for weddings, I’m assuming you have your own traditions as well,” Quackity explained, “So what will your wedding be like?”

The witch looked surprised, “Why would you care?”

“Because weddings aren’t something to take lightly, and I would hope that even if your partner isn’t the person you want, the wedding is something you can enjoy,” Quackity continued.

“That’s a sweet sentiment,” Wilbur smiled a little at that.

“I also just like listening you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s really nice, and you’re kind of cute when you ramble,” Quackity couldn’t resist the tease.

“Well, all weddings have to happen on a new moon light,” Wilbur started, “For obvious reasons. But since I practice witchcraft, my wedding will probably be a handfasting ceremony. The guests will be dressed in plain white robes, while the bride and groom will get more colorful robes, usually colors that correspond with love, lust, or fertility. So red and green are very common colors.”

Quackity hummed, “Well, I know I would love to see you in red. Though you look great in purple.”

“You can’t go five minutes without flirting,” the witch huffed with a red face, “Anyway, exchanging rings can also happen, typically made with stones either associated with the other’s partner, or with attributes you would hope to bring to the relationship.”

“That sounds kind of romantic. Are you getting a lapis lazuli wedding ring?” Quackity questioned.

“Probably not. Some crystals are kind of rare in the village, and it’s better to keep them around for spell work. I probably will end up with something a bit easier to come across, if any crystals at all” Wilbur sighed, as if a little disappointed.

Quackity wanted to shower him in crystals and gemstones in that moment.

“You look beautiful dressed in crystals, especially the rubies” Quackity said instead, “Can I expect something similar the next new moon?”

Wilbur flushed as red as the rubies he wore, “I shouldn’t visit you dressed like this at all. I’m not even meant to show you my face.”

“But you already have” Quackity pointed out.

Quackity’s instincts chirped in delight at that – happy that his witch decided to break some rules just to see him.

The witch shook his head and pulled away, “I have to go… I’m sorry, I’m going to have to chain you up again.”

“Alright, Wilbur” Quackity smiled, “Don’t let me keep you then.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[krikeymate]

Would you still say being obsessed with someone is bad when you have a perfectly normal and functional life? Like having a great job, hobbies, social contacts etc.? Cause I do BUT I totally follow Jenna‘s mom and know more about Jenna than I probably should. And to you, is there a difference between being obsessed with a celebrity and a fiction character? Because, like, aren’t we all obsessed with Tara & Sam here? :P

Obsession by its very definition is having an unhealthy and extreme interest in something. Fans use the term obsession all the time, as do I, but it's supposed to be hyperbole, a way to declare that we really love something. I have a feeling you're just leading a normal life and having a fave celeb.

Here's a scenario for you: several years ago, a fan hunted down and catfished Katie McGrath's brother, in order to try and meet her. People go out of their way to steal from celebrities, or hack their devices, or share their private photos or nudes. They stalk and hound their family and friends. These are extreme examples of Stan/obsessive behaviour.

Following her family members on social media, who are open accounts, and are choosing to share what they do - normal, not weird. Trying to DM them or leaving creepy comments, problem. Deliberatly hunting down information and going out of your way to be at the same place as where they or their family/friends might be, outside of specified events, that's pushing a boundary and I would say that's not ok.

Anon, are you spending hours crawling through every mention of Jenna to absorb every scrap of information about her? If so, you might have a problem. If not, if you're just coming across that information which is freely given, or from others, or because you're following fan accounts, there's nothing wrong with that. How those other people get that information is another matter entirely of course, but we're talking about your relationship with your interest.

There's definitely a different between 'obsessing' over a real person and a fictional character. Real people get hurt, they have boundaries and private lives that need to be respected. Characters are just characters. As you say, we're all obsessing over Sam & Tara here. As with anything however, the moment is starts to seriously impact your mood or begin to affect your life, it becomes a problem.

[sparkles-and-galaxies]

do you perhaps have more hcs of your ghost grim reaper cole au? 🫣🫣honestly kinda obsessed with the idea

Thanks for asking!! I have a fuckton of ideas I just didn’t have much time this past week or so to think lol

First, some bonus angst for Cole’s character because I like my blorbos wet and pathetic

Since he’s just one guy for an entire realm, his job isn’t to guide all departed souls to the Departed Realm, only those who are either lost or reluctant to leave. This of course mostly includes those who died early or “have an unfinished business” as they say. Cole’s very first “client” was a ten-year-old girl whom he met at a children’s hospital (which definitely left a permanent mark on him)

Due to the previous point and the general nature of his job, he’s very reluctant to do what he has to do at first, but over time realizes that without him, a lot of these departed souls (already traumatized by their deaths) would be left to wander aimlessly on their own, with no help whatsoever. Thus over time he accepts his fate and focuses on trying to be as helpful as possible

He isn’t one to run from a fight but he knows how hard it can be to accept one’s mortality, and so his first and foremost tool is talking and persuasion, and he only uses force if absolutely necessary and/or others are threatened

His most needed skill therefore is to be able to gain the trust of others as fast as possible, thus he does his best big brother impression he can do with strangers (my headcanon is that he’s basically the mama dragon of the group, like how he was the closest to baby/kid Wu in Hunted). At the same time, he’s terrified of forming lasting bonds with anyone, leaving him in the awkward position where he doesn’t want to push people away by being an asshole in fear of hurting them, but doesn’t want to let people close either in fear of getting his own feelings hurt

When he got turned into a ghost, he was still on bad terms with his father, and so didn’t think to tell Lou what happened. He only realized later that to his father, he lost not one but two close family members in a very short timespan; Cole then immediately went home to explain, only to realize that his father now thinks he’s also dead. He decided the truth would hurt his father a lot more and so Cole never returned home

He spends whatever free time he has exploring Ninjago, especially the dangerous places he wouldn’t be able to reach as a mortal. Other times, he could be found sitting on rooftops, watching the people go on their days, and listening to music he thinks his mother would’ve listened to

Second, a bit about his powers (aside from the general ghost stuff)

I have this headcanon that deepstone sends ghosts specifically back to the Cursed Realm (mostly because there’s nothing to prove it otherwise), and therefore there’s an opposite material that sends ghosts specifically to the Departed Realm. (Water sends ghosts to the Realm they are normally supposed to be in.) In my version of Ninjago there’s a mountain range called the Misty Mountains, the name coming from the mist always covering its peaks and so thick that no ghost can penetrate it. The opposite of deepstone, a bright white mineral called skystone, is found within its caves, and it’s also what Cole’s scythe is made of

There’s a secret path where the mist is thin enough for ghosts to pass through leading to the highest peak, but only Cole knows where it is. The peak is also where he meets up with the embodiment of the Departed Realm to ask for direction/orders/advice/whatever he needs at the moment.

Cole also has a special piece of clothing called the Cloak of Disguises. Its primary function is that it can make Cole appear mortal, though for every minute he uses the disguise he has to let it cool down for twice as long, and he cannot use it for more than 24 hours straight. It also gives him some protection against water, making him more resilient than other ghosts, but he's still not fully immune.

He mostly uses the disguise when he needs to interact with mortals so as not to scare them, though after a particularly bad incident with a ghost hunter he tries to be upfront about his nature so that they can’t accuse him of tricking them (hence why the ninja immediately learn he’s a ghost when they first meet)

Thanks to his connection to the Departed Realm, he has an ability I like to call Fast Travel. This allows him to immediately appear near to a lost departed soul without the need for physical travelling, and he can even teleport on his own to whatever destination he desires, though the latter can be very unpredictable and so he usually doesn’t risk it

That’s all that came to mind for now. But dw I’m still very much rotating him in my microwave of a mind, so there’s always place for more ideas hehe >:D

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1079: Tech Trio's Homecoming (Sonic X Crash Bandicoot)

1:34 p.m. Insode the Babylon Rogues' Air Blimp......

After a hard of month of traveling across the Babylonian Ruins to search for it's prized treasure and nearly escaping every traps and encounters the place itself has to offer, the Tech Trio retreated themselves inside the air blimp as they examine the golden, red jewels eyed statue inside a test tube.

Tails: The Divined Guardian of Babylon......(Grabs his Chin) Who or whatever made this statue sure made it live up to it's name sake....

Coco: I know, right? So buff and bulking.....(Turns to Wave) You really think it's alright to put in it here for the time being?

Wave: Given everything we've been through to try and it get, I'm not taking any chances of examining it carelessly. ('Sigh') But here's hoping it's more useful than a magic carpet I suppose.....

Coco: (Eyes Widened a Bit) Wait, you guys owned a magic carpet at one point?

Wave: Yeah, back when Me, Tails, and our respective crew competed in one of Eggman's Grand Prix a long while back.

Tails: Aside from it's rich fabric, it functions exactly the same as how most Extreme Gears would usually work.

Wave: Yeah. (Crosses her Arms in Uncertainty) Buuut......

Flashback to an Unknown Desert....

Storm cheers happily as he flies the Magic Carpet around in the air as his two teammate, Jet and Wave, test it's performance in a far distance.

The process itself went smoothly for approximately twenty five minutes until the mystic gear abruptly stops working in midair causing the albatross to fall face down onto the sandy landscape.

'THUD'

Storm: (inside his Body Inprinted Hole) Owwwwwwwwwwwww......

Jet and Wave look at each other for a brief second before turning back to their clipboards and wrote down the results of the test, deeming the magic carpet as an unfortunate failure.

End of Flashback

Wave: ('Sigh') Turns out even flying magical carpets can have an expire date, given it was made hundreds of centuries ago....So naturally, we had to store it inside.....(Presents Tails and Coco a Door with a Sign That Says the Words.....) the Hall of Failures.

Coco: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) You guys have a room dedicated to all the failed projects you made?

Wave: Yeeeeeup. (Rolls her Eyes) And believe it or not we have tons of them too. I would give you twerps the tour around the place, but-

The sound of the door opening up is heard as Storm walks out of the Hall of Failures Room sniffling and wiping away the remaining tears he has left across his face.

Wave: (Glares at her Co-Work) Storm! What the hell were you in there? You know Jey is only one allowed to go in there.

Storm: I know! ('Sniff') I just.....('Sniff') I wanted to visit Carpy one last time....('Sniff ') For ole time sake.....

Tails/Coco: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Carpy?

Wave: (Sighs While Pinching the Back of Her Beak) Oh God you gave it name....I..

Storm: (Glares at Wave) Of course, I gave it a name, WAVE! ('Sniff') And Carpy's not an it, he's a boy!

Wave: Storm, this is getting ridiculous! We gave it-

Storm: Him!

Wave: IT! A fair test run and was deemed a failure. Let it go already!

Storm: (Tearfully Points at Wave) EASY FOR YOU TO SAY! At least you have those two snot nose brats to rely on!

Tails: Hey.

Coco: (Places her Habds on her Hips Wothna Glare of her Own) Rude.

Storm: I HAVE NO OOOOONNNNNE!! (Burst Out Crying as He Runs Away to his Room)

Wave: (Facepalms Herself While Groaning in Pure Annoyance) Let's get out of here already before our brain cells rapidly decreases by more of his stupidity.....

Tails/Coco): 'Kay.

Moments Later in Smash Town........

Coco: (Lets Out a Relaxed Sigh as She Stretches her Arms Up While Waking to the Smash Mansion's Gates Along With Tails and Wave) Home at last.....And here I thought our treasure hunting journey would take longer for us to get here.

Wave: I'm glad it didn't. That statue better be worth in the long run or I swear to God, I'm gonna sell it for cash. Our shopping day is in order.

Tails: Ain't that the truth....

Coco: (Happily Wraps her Arm Around her Best Bud's Shoulder) So Tails~ How's it feel to travel with us for the first time?~

Wave: And your first time not playing the sidekick role for once? (Gently Ruffles the Top of Tails' Head With a Smirk om her Face)

Tails: (Chuckles Ticklishly by the Hair Ruffling) I was never Sonic's sidekick. (Playfully Swipes Wave l's Habd Away From his Head) At least not recently. (Smiles Softly) And trip itself was fun despite everything we've been through. We should do this again sometime.

Coco: Definitely!~ If that's okay with Wave of course.

Wave: (Grabs her Chin) It's gonna take a while to look for another treasure location. (Smiles a Little) But I'll be sure to keep you twerps updated if I find something interesti- What the heck is that?

Coco and Tails looks up at the sky to see something that caught Wave's caught.

Coco: (Places the Side of her See on the Forehead to Have a Closer Look) It....looks like a flying pink....medium size fireball or something?

Tails: Whatever it is, it looks like it's....(Eyes Slowly Begins to Widened in Fear) about to head down towards us RIGHT NOW-

As predicted and before anyone could try to predict what is happening right now, the flying pink light flies down and manages to swoop Tails off the ground he was standing on as the two goes back up into the clear blue skies before stopping midair. It didn't take long for the two tailed fox to find out that the pink light itself turns out to be a new yet very familiar face staring straight at him.

Tails: A....Amy!?

Amy: (Smiles Brightly) Tails!~ (Happily Hugs Tails in her Arms) You're back home!~

Tails: (Still Surprised by Amy's New Look) Yeah.....(Immediately Comes Back to Reality as He Shakes his Head a Little) B-But wait. You can turn Super now!?

Amy: (Giggles Softly) Yep!~ It's kind a funny story behind that actually which I will more than happy to tell you later. (Gives Tails a Sisterly Like Glare on her Face) Right now, I wanna know why you haven't called Sonic and I for a half a month!

Tails: IIIIIIIII.....(Slowly Shrugs with an Awkward Smile on his Face) Kinda forgot to charged it a couple of nights ago?.....

Amy raised an eyebrow in silence.

Tails: I'm not getting off the hook for that one, aren't I-

Amy: Miles Tails Prower, I cannot believe you!!

Tails: ('Sighs in Defeat') Well, that's answers my question effortlessly.

As Amy begins to scold Tails while continuing to hover in the air, the rest of the Tech Crew is still standing on the ground, staring at the two of them.

Coco: Biggest guess I'm gonna make here, but.......Was that pink fireball Amy this entire time?

?????: Yep.

Coco gets startled and Wave close to her as she shortly turns to see Sonic the Hedgehog standing right next to the two of them with his signature grin on his face..

Sonic: 'Sup.

Wave: (Rolls her Eyes) As unpredictably fast as ever I see.....

Coco: (Lets Outs a Sigh of Relief as She Gets Off of Wave) No kidding. (Points Up at the Flying Pink Hedgehog in the Sky) Is that really Amy Up there?

Sonic: Yep again. (Puts Both of his Knuckles on his Hips) Not to brag or anything, but I just so happened to teach her how to go Super in a past few days of your absence~

Coco: Really now? Neat.

Wave: I thought only you and that Shadow guy can tap into that transformation.

Sonic: Nah, there's some folks I know who could do that too. Tails, Knuckles, Silver, even Big and Froggy went Super at once point

................................................................

Big (In Golden Fur): Froggy and I are the hope of the entire Mobius.

Froggy: Ribbit.

Big: (Charges Himself Up as He's Hovering Himself and Froggy the Air) HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

....................................................................

Sonic: It was a pretty crazy turn of events that happened on that day......But let's forget all about that noise and focus on something much more cooler.

Sonic reveals a Fire Flower from behind his back and eats it in one bite before a wall of fire suddenly appears around his entire body, with a bit of a loud booming noise to boot causing the two girls to get started and quickly hold each other in fear. The sudden flames dies down shortly after as the once Blue Blur reveals himself have a blazing red fur and yellow shiny eyes.

Sonic: (Puts on a Very Cocky Smirk on his Face) Ladies, prepare to feast your eyes on the one and only.....(Does a Top Spinning Break Dance Bfore Introducing Himself as......) Fire Sonic!.......

'A Bit of Silence'

Sonic: Or was it Blazing Sonic.......Inferno Sonic maybe?.....('Sigh') The name's still a work in process.....(Grins Again) But yeah. I have a fire form now.

Wave: (Completely Flabbergasted) H-H-How!?

Coco: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) I thought that Fire Flower was only used as a Flamethrower!

Sonic: Yeah, in the Smash Tournament. But out here, it could instant make you a pyromaster, no problem. My Pop's movie is about to be out in a few days, so I figured a snag one of these flowers from out the item storage and take this form out for a spin or two.....or whenever the transformation wears off.

Wave: Well, in the meantime, do you mind if we go to a clear area for a few test runs? I kinda wanna see what you and your girlfriend can do in your equally unique forms.

Coco: Yeah, same! Also.....(Twirls the Front of Her Hair Around a Bit Shyly) Do you mind if I see how those Chaos Emerald of yours work? I promise I won't use them recklessly.

Sonic: Alright, but I have to teach you guys how Chaos powers works. I'm not a huge expert of it myself, but-

Mario/Peach: (From Inside the Smash Mansion) SOOOOOOONICCCCC!

Mario: Why is the Item Storage Room open!?

Peach: And WHERE are all the Chaos Emeralds!?

Sonic: (Eyes Widened in Fear) Shoot, they're on to us. (Turns Back to the Girls) Let's get out of here and fast. (Looks Up at Amy) Ames! Come down here quickly! We're heading to...(Turns to Wave) Where are we going?

Wave: Desert? I guess?

Sonic: (Turns Back to Amy) Desert! We're going to the desert!

Amy: 'Kay!~ (Hovers Down to the Ground While Still Holding Tails in her Arms) We'll continue this discussion later, young man.

Tails: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes) Yes, ma'am.....

@keyenuta

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@bestpony666

@ma-lemons

@caleb13frede

@taiils2

[mysticmjolnir]

Tag Game to Better Know You

Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Tagged by @tennessoui, i am kissing you on the forehead not with tongue maybe with a little tongue

What book are you currently reading? Seeing Like a State by James C. Scott. It's about how utopian projects pushed top-down by states never go well, because the kind of knowledge states seek to codify tends to ignore a whole bunch of other, very important but less 'valuable' (usually in terms of direct taxation) factors.

I've been reading it real slow bc it's like, dense and stuff and also i've been real sick recently, but it's really interesting. My favourite part is an example used early on; scientific forestry. So forests are like, old and organic and messy and full of stuff that isn't easy to use timber. Which, if you're looking at a forest and thinking 'how much timber can I get out of this forest on a regular basis', is kind of a nightmare. In the latter 1700s some german dude decided to try clearing areas and planting the same tree over and over in neat rows, making sure the area was clear of brush and general forest detritus.

The first crop, about 80 years on, was great! Lots of good quality timber, easy to harvest. The second crop was awful and the third was worse and so on and so on. Because this scientific forestry didn't consider any other factors but commercial exploitation of the forest. Not the nutrients in the soil, not the biodiversity of the biome, both of which were to blame for everything after the first bunch of trees growing poorly, but every other way that people rely on or interact with forests; religion, culture, food foraging, hunting, sneaking off to fuck, grazing for animals, goddamn medicines! Not to mention, y'know, all the ways that a forest exists and thrives sans any human interaction at all.

This is just a really bare example of what this book talks about - most of the projects it discusses are not about just imposing systems onto the landscape but onto people, who must interact with said systems or sometimes fight back against them. And not all state interference is bad or done for purely explotative reasons. But it usually goes badly because the people designing and implementing the systems don't know or care to know about how local systems already function - it just doesn't seem relevant to them and their big ideas. Also, obviously, there's a lot of colonialism here too, colonial administrators trying to align opressed indigenous populations into something 'manageable' and most importantly, taxable.

Like, in 1849, the Spanish going through the regions of the Philippines and assigning Hispanic surnames literally in alphabetical order, then enforcing those names by forbidding all officials from accepting any documentation that didn't use the (randomly assigned) Hispanic surnames. It didn't work 100% of course, these kind of insane, nightmarish projects never do, but it worked somewhat. There was a lot of forcing people to take surnames for the sake of being easier to track/tax. for instance people immigrating to the USA through Ellis Island

In a sweet little twist, at least one of these kinds of forests, from the late 1600s, so, before they had the bright idea to eliminate diversity from the trees they were planting, is a place of well loved and outstanding beauty, and also still harvested for timber on a 200 year cycle; The Forest of Tronçais. It was planted to provide wood for the ships of the French navy, but then they didn't need it so much. It got cut down a lot over the 1700s and 1800s for charcoal and stuff, but now it's, according to (a source in french on) wikipedia 'deemed by many as the most beautiful oakwood in Europe'. So that's nice.

tl:dr I am reading an interesting book on how states fuck up people and also trees.

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? I have not been to see a film in a cinema this year.

What do you usually wear? rn pyjamas, but usually i wear what i like to call hedgewitch chic

How tall are you? 5'3''. i don't want to talk about it

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? Capricorn. Sometimes my birthday is Martin Luther King day

Do you go by your name or a nickname? I have a really cool name (if we're friends i will tell you it) and I try to go by my shortened name informally and my full name professionally.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? when i was a child i wanted to be a classicist. i am not a classicist.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? That one tumblr post: "not in a relationship, not aromantic, but a secret third thing. unwanted ;) " <-- kit put this i'm stealing it

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? i'm good at telling people to be kind to themselves. i am bad at remembering to wear a coat when i go outside

Dogs or cats? cats

If you draw/write or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/line/etc from something you created this year? i have written fic this year, which i have not done for some years. i like almost all of my writing. i tried to find a quote but idk, when i went to look at my writing i liked it less.

What’s something you would like to create content for? i want to write an alex rider fic but the fates are against me in nearly every way despite my very funny idea that makes me chuckle to myself every time i think about it

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? star wars? i'm currently obsessed with certain bits of star wars very much.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? uh. i did not enjoy the sandman as much as i hoped to. i can expand at length on this subject to anyone who is interested.

What’s a hidden talent of yours? cat wrangling

Are you religious? nuh

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? a hug

deep breath i can do this i can tag people @dreaminghour @raeality @anakincito

[solarbird]

(First one is the tweet I'm referencing)

Daniel Dale · @ddale8 · 2:11 PM · Jun 15, 2022 The Trump crew is still repeating the absolute stupidest, most easily debunked of the 2020 lies. (Wisconsin has about 4.5M adults and about 3.5M active registered voters; it's only "7.1 million" if you count inactives, like voters who died or moved away.)

Liz Harrington · @realLizUSA · Jun 9 Evidence they want you to ignore: Wisconsin has 4 million adults but 7.1 million voter registrations

The @GOP lie to each other constantly. They know better; they know this is factually bullshit.

But facts aren't their definition of truth.

"Truth" is what serves the agenda. "Truth" is what they want to believe and what furthers their goals.

That's their determiner of truth.

This, again, comes out of fundamentalist culture, its rejection of empirical knowledge in favour of received knowledge handed down ancestrally and from high authority - in their case, "God."

It became @GOP culture when fundamentalist culture took over the party.

So when you ask how the @GOP lie so baldly and so transparently without any shred of conscience, what you must understand is that they don't use a factual reality definition of truth.

Truth is what they want to be true and what serves the agenda, not what actually is.

The @GOP want all the factual nonsense to be true.

And it since also all serves the agenda of permanent power - another cultural belief they absorbed is that there is no such thing as loyal opposition - that's enough.

That makes it "true."

As far as they're concerned.

So as far as the @GOP are concerned, they're not lying, even as they know it's factually complete bullshit.

Because there's a greater truth - the agenda of power.

Or, as the fundamentalists used to hold, "God said," applied with full purity and no restraint to politics.

That's how they can flow so many lies without qualms or hesitation.

Because they've redefined the meaning of truth.

Anyone who disagrees with their "truth" disagrees, functionally, with God, and since there's no middle ground, that means you're literally working with Satan.

You must understand this - you MUST understand this - or you understand nothing about today's @GOP.

And more importantly, you have to get other people to understand. People who don't follow this stuff. People for whom all this is not existential.

People who fall for @GOP sabotage and will vote for whoever is out of power when they feel things aren't going so great.

That's what the @GOP have relied on for years - when in power, loot and consolidate, when out of power sabotage and blame Democrats for their sabotage, all as they ratchet themselves further and further into authoritarianism.

And it works. But it has to be stopped. Now.

I don't know how to get through to those for whom none of this is existential, people who will be basically okay in post-democratic America. Not as free as they once were, but in ways they didn't care for anyway.

At least, at first.

I don't know how to get them out of denial.

I've been trying for over two decades, because if you just looked at what was happening you could see all this coming 25 years ago, and I've failed.

I don't know how to get Americans out of denial. Other people, you gotta have a go, or we're all just done.

The @GOP that tried to overturn the last election and led an insurgency into the Capitol hunting for Democrats (and Mike Pence) to kill are polling ahead in midterm elections, all while nominating more authoritarians who believe allllllllll the lies.

Because with people who refuse to pay attention...

...the sabotage works.

Americans being in deep, deep denial is why.

And the @GOP know that, and bank on it, and I can't get past the denial.

You have to try. Every one of you. Please.

For all our sakes.

[thebigshotman]

*A hastily scribbled note is lying before you. Read it?

*YES *NO

*Hey everyone! I’ve been lurking around and checking out shenanigans every now and then, and it’s safe to say I miss you all terribly. But I can’t come back just yet. Like I feared, it’s been craziness at college right out the gate, and it’s been hard to find time to just sit down and to reply to things. I’m not gone for good, not by a long shot! But I’ll need just a little bit more time.

*However! I realized today is the one year anniversary of Chapter 2, and therefore the anniversary of Spamton coming into existence! So I felt compelled to write a little peek into what Spaul’s doing on this fine day. I wrote it over the course of several days, so apologies if it’s a little scattershot or weird. I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!

*TL;DR I’ll be back in just a little while longer, but for now enjoy this little story! Bye for now!

*Inside is a crystal that changes between pink or yellow depending on how you’re turning it. You can see a birds eye view of Spaul in its reflection. Peer inside?

He wasn’t at his store or his dumpster today, not even at Cerise’s. Although he had stopped there for his usual ramen and cup of tea earlier today, to prepare himself for what he was going to do.

Instead, Spamton G. Spamton-nowadays more well known as “Spaul” since he had been given this second chance of existence-had discovered a portal back to Cyber City. His Cyber City. And so he had stepped through. Today was a…special day, you could say, for him.

The place was mostly abandoned, having been vacated by most of its intelligent residents in favor of going to Castle Town. The sole exceptions being misplaced Werewires, Virovirokuns, and Popups that continued to hunt for prey that didn’t exist. He had to dodge and sidestep them quite frequently, especially as he got further and further to his destination.

Queen’s Mansion.

He had no idea what had happened to his Swatch, Swatchlings, and Queen, but the place was empty and the door was unlocked. So he stepped inside, relishing the fact that he was finally back here after so, so long. Yet, surprisingly, happiness was not the only thing in his mind. Perhaps for the first time ever, fear was on Spaul’s mind as well.

It was probably because he was here to see…it. Or maybe it was a figment of his rapidly unspooling mind’s imagination. Who was to say for sure? He certainly couldn’t.

Down the stairs into the basement he went, and then even further down by way of that absolutely torturous tea cup ride. Walking along the rails that sprawled along its deepest layer, until he finally came across it.

Hunching across from him was the shriveled, disbelief, crazy, colorful husk he had once dared to call a “workout ready body”. Its metal wings were draped over itself, as if trying to protect itself from a threat that had long since consumed it. Indeed, a large, square shaped carving was present on its chest cavity; Kris’s handiwork from removing him from the robot.

Peering inside-but not too deeply, for fear of being sucked back in-wires were strung all around every crevice, holding all of the functions together. The ones that had held him in place spilled out from the hole, also from Kris’s sword work. And indeed, outside of the body, countless lime green wires also spooled out of the back of the machine.

He tried not to think about how it had felt when he had been cut loose from them. Halfway between consciousness and death, barely clinging to life until Kris and that purple girl had propped him up on this vines. Perhaps he would never be free after all.

Hurriedly, almost as if afraid of the strings, Spaul backed away to take in the entire piece in front of him and stuck his hands in his barely used pockets. Allowing the memories of that fight, of that fateful day, to freely flood his memories for the first time. His glasses turning completely black as this happened.

*K-Kris?? What did you do that?! He turned into those glasses to help us!

*…

*…C-C’mon, Kris. Ralsei, you too. This place is giving me the creeps; let’s leave before something else happens.

*Oh…okay! We can always come back and fix them up after we seal the Fountain! C’mon, Kris, let’s go!

He had tried so hard to believe what the Dark Prince had said, he really had.

But nobody came.

His glasses were still bent on one side from when Kris had thrown him, as well as one of the lenses being perpetually smudged. Even worse we’re more permanent effects that he did his best to hide: Cracks along the back of his head. What would Cerise or Eileen think if he saw that?

It was only after he felt the impact of his fist on it that Spaul came back to reality, realizing he had punched the NEO body. Static oozing out of his glasses which he quickly worked to fix by jostling them, returning them to their normal form. He backed away again, once again taking in the whole body again.

It seemed to be buzzing, calling for him to enter and seek limitless power once again. You want it. You need it. Don’t you see?

Spaul glitched spastically, shaking his head as the garbage noise in his mind whispered at him to betray every person that he had grown to love and appreciate since he had emerged in Castle Town. Coming here might not have been the smartest idea.

He would never turn to this power ever again! And for that, he felt quite proud of himself. He didn’t need anyone or anything else! He would protect his new friends all by himself!

But a little bit of power to do that with couldn’t hurt…

*…No. N0. I’VE B3EN THROUGH [[round trip to-]] T0 GO BACK TO TH4T [time to get in shape!]!! TOO MUCH [9-5]!!! YOU HERE THAT M1KE?!?!?! [[I’m sorry, but that’s incorrect.]]!!!

He “screamed” that to the Heavens, to the skies above the basement that he was in. The voice clip only sounded slightly upset, akin to a game show host, but his demeanor immediately afterwards, of preparing to leave and nervously smoothing back his hair, told the story better.

*…N1CE COMING BACK [[where it all began…]] BUT [[no stars, would not recommend!]]. TH1S THING C4N BURN IN [county landfill]!!!

He fixed it with one more long, hard stare. Flying again would be nice, but besides that…never again. OR SO HE THINKS.

Just before he turns to leave, though, he looks right at you. At the audience. His grin is menacing for a moment, before he sighs and lightens up a bit. After all, this body is the reason he has everything he has now. Perhaps he can’t be too mad at it, not when it’s been so throughly decommissioned. An “accepted” noise plays before he speaks, waving politely.

*4ND AS FOR [you lovely people!]…

*…HAPPY B1RTHDAY, [Heaven].

*The crystal goes dark, returning to simple pink and yellow hues once again.