#they have few resources and lots of attitude and they want to use that to make a name for themselves again and save their town

[pagesofkenna]

As a reminder, Wednesday the 19th we're starting our preview of Skyjoust– our sports anime inspired jousting competition series– on the Campaign feed. It will be two months of weekly episodes! As we get ready for that, let's meet some of the teams! (via twitter) The Burning Tails The Barmwhich Perrymen The Frog Princes The Jolly Ganders

I don't think the Campaign pod has been promoting Skyjoust on Tumblr yet, so I'm going to do it for them (hope thats ok lol)

y'all have no idea how hype I am about giant bird joust sports anime podcast!!! First episode previewing on the Campaign: Skyjacks podcast feed on the 19th!!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven! I was reading your opinions about Leona and wanted to ask you, do you think Leona would be a better king than Falena?

[Referencing this post!]

Put simply, no--but not for the reasons you're probably thinking. Hey now, hold on! Put down your pitchforks and torches! Please at least hear what I have to say and consider it.

It's not that I think that Leona is incompetent or that I think Falena is sufficient as a king. It's that ruling (especially as a monarch that has a LOT of power and control) is very nuanced and to say that one person would be "better" than another is grossly glossing over all that goes into governance.

This post gets quite long, so I've placed all my thoughts under the cut. Again, I ask that you read the whole post before commenting.

First of all, the baseline we're comparing to is Falena so let's review what we know about him that's relevant to this discussion. Leona describes Falena as someone who has a "carefree attitude". Because of this, Leona worries that Falena will "run [their] kingdom into the ground." Now something I want to make clear: "[running their] kingdom into the ground" is very harsh wording used ONLY in EN. In JP, Leona is much more casual with his phrasing. He simply expresses that he is "worried about the country's future", not that he thinks Falena will ruin it:

In the book 2 post-OB flashback sequence, Leona implies that his older brother can sing and nap but still be guaranteed the crown because of Falena being first-born. Falena is noted as holding a ceremony in honor of his son's birth; he had commissioned for a fountain to be built (even though water is a scarce resource in their land) and unveiled in their capital—an occasion which Leona skipped. He refers to the ceremony as a "self-indulgent party where you show off your son to the people." This characterizes Falena as a jovial and excessive person who doesn't think too deeply about policies. Another example of this comes from Leona's Birthday Boy vignettes, in which Falena sends his younger brother an expensive rug. "In the time he spends sending me gifts I don't even want, he could be sending rugs to neighboring lands and bolstering our foreign relations," Leona says. "Of course, the thought never even crosses his mind." One of the Sunset Savnna’s driving philosophies is “hakuna matata”, which, as Leona describes it, means, “don’t think too hard about things”. And indeed, if Falena is anything like how Leona says he is, then he is the walking embodiment of their country and their beliefs.

One major issue that is unique to their homeland is that of unification. The Sunset Savanna boasts many different kinds of beastmen, each with their own customs and cultures--and because of that, these beastmen tend to live in settlements of just their own kind and don't always get along or see eye-to-eye with others. For example, it is said that very few bird beastmen reside in the capital city and Ruggie has implied that hyenas are low in the social hierarchy. Kifaji, the grand chamberlain, confides that the acting king Falena has struggled with this unification. The Kingscholars' father has communicated that he would like for nothing more than Leona to lend his assistance to Falena for this endeavor. (Keep this in mind, as I will be touching upon this again later!)

What I think many people tend to overlook when it comes to Falena's rule is that he has not been in power for a long time. According to Tamashina Mina, Falena has only been running the country for "the last few years", which is NOT that long. Falena has not even had that much experience as the official head of state to begin with--and yeah, you could argue that he has been preparing his whole life to eventually become the ruler, training for it and actually doing it are very different beasts. No amount of tutoring will prepare you for having the weight of an entire nation suddenly on your shoulders. I would also argue that anyone that is new to a job won't do the best right away and that experience is the best teacher. Falena is likely still learning while on the job and trying to do his best while also juggling being a parent and husband, trying to reach across the aisle to his estranged younger brother, and looking after his ill father.

This leads me to another point: a lot of what we hear about Falena is coming from Leona's perspective, which is very biased (especially in the post-OB flashback, as this was when Leona was at his most bitter). We should be aware of this while taking in the information Leona is offering. I don't doubt that Leona's telling the truth about how his brother is carefree or the things his brother has done, but at the same time we need to realize that this is a limited view of Falena. It's not the whole picture of who he is. Leona tends to focus on his brother's shortcomings and downfalls--but thinking about it, what are Falena's strengths?

Well, one of them is definitely that Falena is friendly, kind-hearted, and honest. Even Leona confesses to this. However, he frames these traits in a negative way, stating that "[Falena] could just focus on the kingdom's affairs--you know, his JOB--but nooo, he's gotta be the caring big brother who's nice to everybody," and, of his honesty, "he just makes things harder for himself." Falena also seems to be positive and insightful--admirable qualities in a leader. When Leona speaks rudely to him, Falena tries to reassure his little brother: "You may never become king, but you are still wise. There is much you could do for this country." He even pursues Leona when he leaves, trying to get his little brother to see reason. Falena sees the potential in Leona and he wants Leona to realize that potential too. If you look at this another way, this personality can be a boon. It could make it easier for Falena to smooth over tensions and get other political figures to open up to him, similar to how Kalim’s empathy helps to uplift and support his dorm mates and how those dorm mates in return give him their loyalty.

Finally, we know that Falena is cognizant of the culture and the values of the Sunset Savanna and likely works in accordance with those. If we revisit Tamashina Mina, Leona talks at length about how some areas of the country are so underdeveloped that its people are still drinking rainwater or from wells. He laments the situation and says that if only they improved their infrastructure and mined the valuable ore their country has, the people would be able to live better lives. Leona here leans pro-industrialization. From the lack of industrialization we see in large parts of the country, we can assume that Falena does not have this same stance. Rather, Falena understands that the people of the Sunset Savanna cherish living in harmony with nature and want to honor their animal ancestors by living in this way. He KNOWS that their people would be against industrialization, and so he favors slower development (Sunrise City being one of these metropolises that developed under the rule of their father) and in ways which preserve nature. As Lilia puts it, “Developing is easy. You just throw money at it. But building a city like this, while still preserving nature? That’s the real challenge, I’d say.” (That was a very quick summary but if you're interested in reading more about this topic specifically, I'd recommend this post!)

Falena cares about tradition and upholding it, and there isn’t inherently an issue with that. He values where he comes from and the practices that come with that. That’s why Falena gets upset with Leona for not doing his duties and skipping out on important meetings. It’s not purely that Falena sees these acts as disrespectful (although let’s be clear, it is disrespectful), but it also comes with the sadness of knowing that his younger brother doesn’t see the value in the same things he does—yet he still understands that Leona has his own strengths that be brings to the table.

You can see how this could translate into his ruling style too, even if it is not explicitly stated in the game. Falena is someone who is easy to approach with your problems (let's assume that this is the case both for his own people and for diplomats of other countries). He is someone who cares about tending to everyone, which would make him popular with the public--but that means he may spread himself or their resources too thin. Falena is also for slower progress in order to respect the ways of their culture and their people's values. But the point is, Falena cares, and all Leona sees in that is a bleeding heart since it doesn't produce what Leona thinks are good results.

And speaking of Leona, it's about time we get to him. What are his qualifications in a situation where he was king? What would his ruling style be like, and who would it serve his country?

Firstly, it's worthwhile to compare Leona's thinking to Falena's. Unlike his older brother, Leona is proactive--he plans ahead and considers the political power in something as simple as gifting an item. Many of the ideas he proposes for bettering his country are things that Falena either never thought of (ie gifting the rug to another country instead of to him) or would refuse to implement out of principle (speedrunning mining operations). However, it's undeniable that Leona's methods would produce results. As he demonstrates to us with his shady tactics in books 2 and 3, it does not matter to Leona what he has to do in order to achieve what he desires. His eyes are set on the goal, not on how he gets there (though he will plan the steps out meticulously as well). He's willing to tear up the environment if it means enriching the Sunset Savanna's economy and providing clean, consistent drinking water for the citizens. It's ultimately gains, but it jeopardizes maintaining harmony with nature. This would earn him genuine ire from his people (and honestly, disliking someone for blatantly disregarding your beliefs is valid; it's not blindly being petty or hating Leona for being the "lowly second born"). But!! Leona as of book 7 says he is going to intern at a mining and energy lab in his home country. This implies that he is willing to learn about the field and may use that knowledge to enact sustainable change. This is a really good start to his development and growth into a wise leader.

The brothers' personalities are also not alike at all. Leona is... admittedly far more abrasive that Falena. I'm not saying that Leona would behave so rudely to politicians or on a global stage (please, the man has more tact than that), but he would carry himself very differently than Falena. Leona can be polite and speak fancily all he wants, but he still does not have that same approachable warmth to him. Something else we should consider is that... well, Leona doesn't like stuffy occasions or putting on airs, which would basically be expect of him as king. We don't know for sure how he would act if the circumstances ask that he be cordial and yet the man himself detests such a thing. He could play the part if needed, sure. But for how long before he becomes annoyed or tired of it? Leona can also be arrogant and demanding. Do you think he would skip/sleep through meetings with advisors he deems irrelevant or unproductive? (Recall how he skips ceremonies and traditions he deems unimportant or boring, like the celebration of Cheka’s birth and tries to cheat his way out of his responsibilities as Captain of the Sunset Warriors.) How do you think he'd act with people who oppose him? Would he defy traditions? He also disregards the “hakuna matata” mantra and cynically labels it “self-serving”. I could see how tensions could rise as a result. (Reminder that I'm not saying it's for CERTAIN that Leona would do these things, I'm just posing possibilities based on what I understand of his character and whether you believe Leona would act like this or not is up to you.) Leona is 10 years younger than Falena and has never formally served in a governmental position. This means that he, too, lacks the political experience to be king. Some would say that where Leona makes up for this is in life experiences. He has been downtrodden and defeated, mingled among the common folk, etc. This means Leona is better equipped to understand the plight of his people, they argue. And I can see where people are coming from--but personally, I think Leona still lacks what he needs to be a "better" ruler. Yes, Leona has lived "out there", but the fact remains that Falena still has 10 years on him. What's more is that Leona has not actually strayed that far from his privileged life. He's dorm leader (a position of power within NRC), attends an elite magic school, and constantly has Ruggie taking care of him. I don't think this really prepares him to rule a whole country.

That's a good segway into Leona and his leadership. As I've mentioned before, Falena is having trouble with enacting national policies to unite all beastmen. Leona does not appear to have the same issue, as even though there is a variety of beastmen within Savanaclaw, they all defer to Leona the same. Therefore, Leona, as king, could easily resolve this problem in the Sunset Savanna--so the theory goes. As for me, well... In my opinion, I do think it's a show of skill that Leona can get many different beastmen rallying under his flag but I don't think this generalizes to (again) the scale of an entire nation. Not only do we have to account for WAY more people, but also people of demographics that differ wildly from Savanaclaw. The mobs under Leona follow him, yes--but thinking about it, they're all VERY similar demographics-wise. They're roughly the same age, all male, all students, and have the same goals in mind (for book 2, it was to be noticed by talent scouts). I would bet that most of them are from middle class or upper-class incomes too. Now expand the scope to a country. Do you think Leona could appeal to young and old? Male and female? Rich and poor? People of all occupations? What about parents? There are so many other factors to account for, so I don't think it's fair to generalize Leona leading a dorm of maybe 85ish (this is just a guess; NRC has ~800 total students, 600 are on-campus and split across 7 dorms so this assumes equal splitting) to a diverse kingdom of thousands.

If Falena were to abdicate the throne to Leona right this second, no, I don't think Leona would be fit to be king. Leona's ideas seem "good" on a surface level, but that's ignoring the long-term impacts and his less-than-stellar personality quirks. He has a ton that he has to learn before he can comfortably govern. At the same time, Falena isn't exactly a perfect ruler either. He, too, lacks experience and can be short-sighted and naive in spite of his good intentions and willingness to hear everyone out.

In an AU where Leona was actually the crown prince (and thus never got talked down to or treated like the “lesser” second born), maybe things would be different. But then that creates the same issue with Falena (now the scorned younger prince) being the "Leona" of the AU.

Each Kingscholar brother has his own strengths and weaknesses, perspectives, and leadership styles. THIS DOES NOT MAKE ONE SUPERIOR OR "BETTER" THAN THE OTHER. Instead, they make up for one another's deficits or flaws, creating a more well-rounded and unified view. This is, perhaps, why both Falena and their father want Leona to step in and help with ruling the country. I think they all see the benefit that Leona could provide and that they value his thoughts.

The "best" situation for the Sunset Savanna, in my opinion, would be Leona and Falena working together to see the country's future through. It does not have to be in the capacity of king and advisor; titles do not matter here. What is most important is that Leona and Falena can meet on neutral grounds and agree to put their all into improving the Sunset Savanna.

[olderthannetfic]

A common argument I see against constructive or negative opinions (even in For Readers spaces now apparently 🙄) is that they crush people's dreams of being a writer.

And like. I have diagnosed issues with rejection sensitivity, so sharing my work publicly was extremely difficult for me at first. But it was just something I had to get through if I wanted to be a writer. When I was in a university level creative writing class, I was stunned that they wasted a seminar teaching us stuff like you're/your and there/their/they're until I noticed that my classmates found it really useful. I realised 00s fandom taught me better grammar than the actual official school system, say nothing of charactisation, voice, pacing, etc. There were a LOT of resources to help new writers understand writing 101 and avoid annoying mistakes/cliché plots, which you don't really see anymore. I honestly feel like I got an expensive years long creative writing course for free.

And even as a melodramatic and oversensitive tween, I always had the attitude that I wanted my writing to be good, so if people pointed out typos or grammar mistakes I'd just thank them, fix it and remember for next time??? I never once felt "bullied" by legitimate criticism: as someone who actually was bullied a lot IRL, 00s fandom was actually one of the few spaces where I felt comfortable and safe. Whereas tbh I don't always feel comfortable with this modern culture where fanfic writers demand comments in return for creating "content" "for free" but setting strict demands for what kind of comments they want to receive. (And ofc it's for free! It's not their intellectual property!)

Which is all to say, if someone telling you "hey, maybe consider adding paragraph breaks" makes you want to quit writing forever then maybe you didn't actually want to be a writer all that much.

--

I think people mix a whole bunch of dissimilar things.

If you go to art/film/etc. school, you'll need to get used to group critique. It's partly about advice, but a lot of it is about toughening you up for future situations where your audience is not going to care about why a work isn't up to their standards. I think some of these practices actually can be pretty damaging. It really depends on the professor to make them constructive.

A key element is that people who are going through that are usually supposed to already have some experience and be pretty committed, so they aren't going to shrivel up and quit.

When I was a little baby writer, I was indeed pretty sensitive. Even while trying to finish the first draft of a novel, I need cheerleading or maybe goading to put my ass in a chair. The hard part is getting the words out, not making them good. So a lot of negative shit, even if well meant and useful, would just be discouraging.

But...

There's a big difference between having no interest in back seat driving from AO3 comments and opposing all review-ish conversation anywhere, whether it's bookmarks or discord servers or other archives that have more of a culture of reviews than of comments for the author.

I think you can want to improve but not want to do it via AO3 comments. You should still leave readers to do their thing outside of your comments though. Analyzing or reviewing can be a big part of someone's own fannish activity—a positive and fun hobby for them, not just an excuse to yell at the writer.

[aroaceleovaldez]

what do you mean by fandom infrastructure?

Oh goody I get to rant about this. Definitely gonna need a read more for this one. There's gonna be a lot of general fandom thoughts here so I'll put a big title for when I get to the actual list and pjo-specific stuff for if anybody wants to skip. Okay, my anthropological fandom thoughts:

"Fandom infrastructure" isn't official terminology by any means, but as someone who's been in a wide variety of fandoms for like 15+ years and in varying stages of participating within said fandoms, I generally use it to describe the sort of environment created by a fandom that supports and sustains the ecosystem within it (and may also extend to what kinds of attitudes are fostered within the community). This obviously looks different for every fandom (and different per platform), but I think it's really valuable to break down what systems exist in different fan spaces and how those impact the community that utilizes it, and take lessons from different spaces about what those systems do and how they're effective or not.

General forms of fandom infrastructures have shifted over time - a lot of more recent formats, at least in western fandom, tend to be very reliant on source material and you rarely see a lot of sort of classic archetypes of "old fandom" like concepts such as "big name fans" (I partially blame social media platform drifts for this - I'll touch back on that later*). A fandom with more consistent infrastructure over time (plus just a general favorite fandom case study of mine) and just a general good example of fandom infrastructure is the Furry fandom. It's a bit of an outlier to begin with as Furry fandom doesn't have an actual source material, which means it's an entirely self-perpetuating fandom, and as a result you get some really interesting community structure! (I highly recommend the documentary The Fandom for a dive into the history of the Furry fandom and even some adjacent fandoms!) One of the number one things I always like to note with the Furry fandom particularly compared to other fandoms is it's a very easy fandom to join/integrate yourself into and become a part of the community - it's one of the few fandoms that has generally agreed upon written etiquette/guidelines for behavior in the community that is very easy to find (early 2020s MCYT fandom had a little bit of this as well, but most guides were specific to individual MCYTs rather than the community as a whole and difficult to track down) and a ton of guides explaining what the community is and ways you can begin exploring it. Not to mention the absolute plethora of resources available in the community for just about anything you could think of, and tons of community-dedicated spaces where people can get involved in various ways. The furries are a very well-organized fandom in general! They're also an older and very well-established fandom, so there is much to learn from them.

I like to consider fandoms that have good infrastructure to be fandoms where the fandom is self-reliant or self-perpetuating (not fully dependent to a source material - so the fandom doesn't experience total dry spells when there's no new official media.) and one that's easy to join and integrate into.

Tangent: I have this whole personal concept about "entry-level fandoms" particularly when it comes to the cosplay community. A lot of those fandoms tend to be the ones labeled as "toxic" but when you break it down it's actually that the fandom is just very easily accessible and for a lot of folks that is their first fandom and they haven't learned general fandom etiquette yet. For cosplay, entry level fandoms tend to be relatively mainstream or otherwise easy to access the source material for and then also easy to cosplay while also offering ample room to grow (doubly easily accessible while also not limiting) - usually that the main cast of characters have very casual every-day outfits that can be easily made with a closet cosplay (cosplaying using clothes from your closet or otherwise "normal" clothes) (low barrier to entry) plus more elaborate and evolved outfits for when new fans get comfortable enough to begin exploring further (niches to grow into). Also bonus points if people are able to use their natural hair at all because that makes it even easier. Another aspect that tends to be helpful is how much one actually needs to get into the source material to begin interacting with the community - if you can get the general gist/premise of the franchise pretty quickly and not have to actually engage with the entirety of the source material, that's way more likely to be an entry-level fandom (like, One Piece for example is not likely to be an entry-level fandom, lol). Homestuck is (or more was) an easily accessible webcomic, and despite it's length for the majority of it's run it was actively updating so there was no expectation to be completely caught up, plus it was extremely common to just fully skip over entire segments. Cosplay progression: human characters in basic outfits > trolls > god tiers/etc. My Hero Academia is a mainstream readily accessible manga and anime, particularly to western audiences, and the general premise throughout the series remains relatively close to the pitch from the beginning, alongside not shifting core characters too much. Cosplay progression: civilian outfits > hero costumes and more complex characters. Percy Jackson actually very much fits the bill for this as well - its a VERY popular book franchise to the point where most people have probably had to read it for school at some point, but also it's generally not expected you'll read past Blood of Olympus or any of the side series, if you even read past the first series (and you won't be super lost if you even don't read far past the first book). Cosplay progression: camp t-shirts > adding armor, props, or maybe trying to make goat legs or etc. A more recent and very interesting newcomer to the entry-level fandoms scene is Genshin Impact because it somewhat breaks the format - it's still easily accessible (free to play game) but the character outfits are all incredibly complex. But as cosplay becomes more mainstream and just in general as manufacturing techniques improve, it's suddenly become very easy and affordable to just buy a decent looking cosplay, which is very appealing particularly for a fandom like Genshin. You can have a very nice and complex looking first cosplay with little effort, similar to the effectiveness of closet cosplays in the other examples. As varying techniques improve, the barrier to entry becomes lower in more communities, and there are more opportunities for a wider variety of entry-level fandoms. Okay tangent over -

There's a lot of ways fandoms can be self-perpetuating, but some of the most self-perpetuating fandoms I see are ones that either have a lot of room for original characters, concepts, and similar (see: TTRPG fandoms) and/or fandoms that are heavily divorced from the source material (often due to the source material being widely deemed "meh at best" but having compelling base concepts) (see: Miraculous Ladybug) which is where you often see a lot of AUs - Warrior Cats fandom is a good example of both! I have not kept up with Warrior Cats in ages, but I'm still in the fandom. I have no idea what book they're on. If Warriors stopped publishing books tomorrow I genuinely don't think the fandom would even notice. They've been doing their own thing for ages. There's a ton of room for creating your own characters, storylines, and etc within the worldbuilding of the franchise where it never stops being identifiable as Warrior Cats, which means the fandom can basically do their own thing eternally without ever cutting off newcomers to the community.

The majority of this stems just from being able to not rely on the source material to drive the fandom. If the community inspires itself, then it's able to continue to sustain itself without outside reliance. But to do so indefinitely it will eventually need new fans. And this brings me to the whole "easy to join/integrate into the community thing" -

*It's later - Tumblr used to be a huge fandom hub in general, but the content bans around 2018 led to a giant migration of communities to other platforms. That 2016-2018 era is when we see a shift in fandom in general, with fandom attitudes shifting from old-era concepts like ship-and-let-ship, YKINMKATO/Kinktomato, use of "squick," etc (in general a major loss of old fandom linguistics and terminology - nobody even says OTP anymore!). There's a couple of reasons for this sort of multi-fandom cultural drift, but in general it seemed to widely be the combo of a new generation of younger fans entering their first fandoms all at once while simultaneously being cut off from learning established pan-fandom culture. Newer fans never learn about the old community, how it functioned, or how to upkeep it, and now the fandom is fully reliant on the source material and fizzles out almost completely in the absence of new official media. (Also I think somewhat the lack of BNFs/Big Name Fans can also contribute to this, as they are often the people new fans will look up to and emulate the behavior of when learning how to interact with a fandom - this can be good or bad, depending on the BNF! - alongside being able to learn about the community's history through them, since they're almost always older and well-established members of the community. In the absence of BNFs, the community often turns more towards the source material/creators and it can get Bad™.)

Tumblr as a platform, due to being a blogging and sharing platform, is inherently structured for long-form discussion, long-form text, documentation, and sharing concepts and ideas in nuanced ways. Also preservation - there's no time limit for when posts disappear, and there's no algorithms restricting you to only the newest posts. Tumblr's features even make it really easy to go back and find old posts, even despite the semi-broken search features. Tumblr creates environments where these types of communities absolutely blossom. There's a reason why it was the go-to platform for fandom stuff. Instagram is image-focused, actively discourages text, has a mediocre search, and no proper means of sharing except awkward reposting most of the time. Tiktok is even worse, being short-form video-centric (so even more difficult to repost in absence of sharing features) but otherwise similar (and even less text-friendly and more difficult to search, especially for older posts). Twitter has strict text and image limitations, heavily limited sharing options, and any attempts at threads get messy extremely quickly, so nuance is dead there. Reddit has long form text capabilities but no real sharing features and next to zero longevity. Facebook and Discord are locked behind requiring an account to even view it (instagram as well, to a point). And Youtube is right out (generally it acts as supplementary to other social media). Theoretically you could try to use Ao3 for that, but it's an archive, not a discussion board or social media - at best you'd probably just be going back and forth like scientific journalists which will not be easy for most people to follow. As far as mainstream western social media goes, Tumblr is the best place for "classic fandom" so-to-speak. There's a reason a lot of very established fandoms have built their own dedicated spaces - forums, art sites, etc (usually in combination) - the more splintered your community is, the less of a community it is. It's very difficult to build a community when you never know where the majority of your community is going to be at any given point! In most cases you'll still have the source material, but how is a new fan supposed to know if everybody's on twitter or instagram or tiktok at any given time? That uncertainty immediately cuts off new fans. And you need new fans to perpetuate a fandom (or in general, new people to perpetuate a community). Not every community is capable of having dedicated hosted forum boards and such (though GOD i wish,,,, i miss forum boards,,,, forum boards are awesome,,). Maybe there's a Discord, but discords are difficult to find, easily overwhelming if large, and often intimidating for new folks to join. Not to mention difficult to moderate and if they're busy then it's basically guaranteed most people are just going to get drowned out.

ALL THIS TO SAY: For a true fandom community to exist, essentially, it needs to a.) not be entirely reliant on the source material (instead being driven by activity within the community), and b.) have a cycle of new fans that can come into the community and take up the mantle of upkeeping that infrastructure and continuing the activity within the community, usually with low barrier to entry. This is where that fandom infrastructure becomes important, because that's exactly what supports and encourages that activity in the first place.

To begin with, you must have a community acceptance for deviating from the canon/source material. This is normal and fine and okay. This is what fandom is known for. This is exactly why we have the terms "fanon" (concepts largely agreed upon by the fandom but not officially canon) and "headcanon" (the canon that exists in your head/is personal to you) and AU (alternate universe)! You have to help foster this - you don't have to actively engage with every canon deviation you see, but respect when it is other people's prerogative to deviate from canon and don't shut them down just inherently for "daring to disrespect the sacred canon" or whatever. Remember the ancient fandom proverbs: don't like-don't read, YKINMKATO/Kinktomato ("Your kink is not my kink and that's okay"), ship-and-let-ship, etc. Cringe culture is dead, engage in some whimsy, and remember that ultimately you always are the one to curate your own online experience. Etc etc.

The other major thing is you need to foster spaces where new fans can easily enter and begin engaging with the community. These spaces are extremely important in fandom communities because it's what allows fans who are completely new to fandom to comfortably begin partaking in fandom at a level appropriate for them and without pressure. It's in these spaces that those whose who wish to can begin fostering skills that then leads them to engage with the fandom in larger and more complex ways, growing into different niches within the community and thus allowing the fandom to continue. (I have a whole little essay about this topic [here] which is extremely relevant to my major points here.)

"Alright so where's the PJO-specific stuff and actual examples?"

I'm glad you asked, theoretical reader. So, to answer the beginning question - what is some fandom infrastructure I've seen in other communities (and/or Riordanverse fandom, back when we had that kind of stuff)? These are generally types of blog or other niches that prompt activity, discussion, and other forms of interaction within the community. I have comprised many examples though forgive me if my organization is messy because these are somewhat difficult to categorize concisely: (Also if you do know of examples in the riordanverse fandom of any of my examples, like specific blogs or etc, feel free to comment them!)

- General community hubs and community spaces. I have these as two slightly different but adjacent categories since I think these things generally fall into one of two categories - spaces meant for general chatting and interacting with other fans (community spaces) and spaces more meant to find specific topics (hubs).

Things like forums, discord servers, group chats, etc - these exist in the PJO community but are far and few between and difficult to find. If you run one I highly recommend putting a link in your tumblr sidebar (enable custom theme > edit theme > new page [bottom of sidebar on the left] > there should be a little dropdown menu where it says "standard layout" - select "link" and plug in a discord invite set to never expire. there ya go). A couple I know of include my own (one for general riordanverse and one for my askblog), the Titan Army discord, these two, Riordanverse artists server, Nicercy (Percico) events, Jasico challenges, and Above The Clouds (also jasico). There used to be a big general PJO server but it's mostly inactive now (I affectionately refer to it as functionally a knitting circle these days, cause that's most of what's discussed there now, lol). There also used to be a well-known TOA-specific one and a general Riordanverse cosplay discord but both had problems and I'm not sure either still exist. I've heard there may also be a Percabeth server floating around somewhere? But I've never seen it.

"Hubs" is what I label things like blogs surrounding specific designated topics, usually consolidating stuff like general fanworks, specific fanfiction, fanworks of specific characters/groupings/ships, etc. I believe there might be one or two general riordanverse fanart blogs floating around. I'm not sure about blogs for specific fanfiction. A lot of ship-specific blogs went inactive by like 2017 but a couple are still alive like @solangelo. (I'll get into some other examples in a similar vein to this later*) We don't have a designated blog for keeping tabs on whenever there's a Riordanverse fanzine or similar project but some fandoms do (I would love this btw and i am almost tempted to do it myself) - an old pan-fandom one was fanzinewatch. I run a blog dedicated just to reblogging fanart (and occasionally other fanwork) of Hazel and Nico - @deathsibs. I don't know of any individual character-specific blogs off the top of my head unfortunately. Etc etc.

In general the purpose of these things is to help connect the community and make it easier to find and promote things or meet people. These are good places to ask questions, particularly directions or recommendations. That brings me to another one-

- Ask/Tag games and memes. Back in ye olde tumblr days there used to be TONS of fandom-specific inbox and tag games, or people would do milestone promos or etc and do these massive blog recommendations or literally just list everyone they follow or similar. This was a really useful way for people to find more blogs for specific topics and engage with each other in general. Here's an old one I found as an example. My friend has a nice tag with a bunch of old ask memes as well, and Hermitcraft-ask-games is a great example of a blog categorizing fandom-specific ones (Hermitcraft/adjacent MCYT in this case). Tag games can refer to both posts where you respond to the prompt in the tags while reblogging or a game where you tag other people - the latter has mostly fallen out of favor cause it can get very spammy and posts can get very long with it. Less spammy versions tend to be something more akin to an ask game or a follow forever, where you are responding to a specific question or prompt by tagging blogs that fit that, usually as a recommendation. It's a little nicer and more favored because then you're promo'ing other folks and usually it's not a long chain of reblogs, plus the posts tend to have dedicated formats so they aren't super messy.

- In another similar vein, Art games/memes. PJO fandom doesn't have a lot of these! These are your "Draw 6 Characters," "Character color wheel," etc prompts. The fandom I see this the most in is MCYT fandom, particularly Hermitcraft/Trafficblr! There's a ton of little variant prompts I see all the time there (not just for fanart! also fanfic and etc!) - Characters in your style, Fanon species swap, color palette swap, etc etc. (I am totally going to try and make one of these for riordanverse, give me a bit, lol)

- Prompt weeks/months. Also similar - prompt weeks/months/etc are pretty self-explanatory. They're events that give you a set of prompts to create/post fanwork themed to over that time period. PJO fandom used to have plenty of these, though I only see a couple floating around these days. I know Jasico Week/Jasico Challenges and Solangelo Week are still alive, and TA week happened recently. Fun fact, in some smaller/largely inactive fandoms I've actually seen prompt weeks DM active people in the community to tell them the prompt week is happening which I actually really like. In circumstances like that where a fandom is so small, scattered and inactive, it's a good means to get the word out.

- Headcanon/ship/"Imagines" blogs *It's later (again)! Headcanon blogs used to be EXTREMELY common back in ye olde days of fandom. Some of the most popular iterations tended to be ship-specific headcanon blogs. PJO fandom had A TON of these (and many are still up! They just haven't posted since like 2017 at the lastest. Quite the trip down memory lane though). They were generally formatted by people submitting their headcanons/"imagines" anonymously, which would then be formatted into an image to match the blog's general format (sometimes themed to specific characters or subjects, depending on the submission itself) and posted. A good example from PJO fandom I stumbled across the other day while looking at old askblogs is Percicoheadcanons. Absolute classic format right there. Also bonus time capsule points - the most recent post is from before Blood of Olympus was published. That's just particularly amusing to me given the ship in question here.

- Shortform Headcanons / Short Memes & Shitposts Helyeahmangocheese reminded me of this one in my previous post - shortform headcanons are essentially any headcanon thrown out into the world in a short format. So you're "headcanon that [x]" or whatever with no elaboration. Just quick little snappy things off the top of your head that people can pick up and run with. Sometimes there would be blogs dedicated to these, with people submitting them in blog formats like the above, and then shortform headcanons to be posted in that format. Short memes & shitposts are the exact same type of thing - just short little silly textposts and similar cracking jokes that the fandom can take and run with. Both of these are more important to the fandom than you'd think - a.) they have a very low barrier to entry, which means they're a great way for new fans to begin engaging with the larger community. b.) they circulate new ideas for other fans to build off of, creating collaborative concepts. These collaborations help build the community with giving opportunities for people to chat/inspire each other's work and can create iconic fandom moments or community references/in-jokes. And old one from PJO fandom that floated around was somebody threw out the concept of Will Solace's weapon being a lasso/whip (because cowboys/he's Texan/etc) made of light, which then got illustrated and elaborated on by many other fans such as Cherryandsisters and was very popular fanon for a time.

- Confessions Blogs These ones can be decisive in fandoms, depending on how they're run. Confession blogs in general are blogs where people anonymously submit fandom thoughts, opinions, etc (formatted similarly to HC/imagines blogs like above). There's also usually a decent amount of funny confessions like initial misunderstandings or confusion about things. Most well-run ones of these will have rules against negativity towards other fans and similar. When done properly these blogs can be a nice way for the community to have discussions about topics that they may be afraid to broach publicly, and easily can generate community in-jokes.

- Positivity blogs / Fandom voting Somewhat opposite to (at least, more negative) confession blogs, fandom positivity blogs are a very sweet way to spread compliments around the community. Sometimes they're anonymous, sometimes not. Generally though the format is people can submit compliments or kind notes to other people in the community and it'll get posted tagging the individual in question. Trafficblrpositivityproject is an MCYT example of this concept. Fandom Voting is a little bit more odd and varies a lot between communities. An old one PJO fandom used to do was PJO Prom, where people could nominate blogs for different categories, they would either accept or deny their nominations, and then folks would vote for their top favorite blogs of each category and winners would be announced (though the event also included more than just that - like blogs asking each other to prom and etc). In other fandoms I've also seen elections where various members of the community would jokingly campaign for election (including choosing other members of their campaign), people would vote for a winner, and then do it all over again. Fandom elections tend to be a lot more chaotic and silly, versus stuff like fandom prom voting is more geared towards just appreciation towards members of the community.

- Fandom Events / Community Projects Related to PJO Prom, (and prompt weeks/months) general fandom proms or valentine's events used to be pretty popular, especially amongst RP and askblogs. These weren't always strictly organized, but they generally involved asking other blogs to prom/to be valentines and then people would draw cute prom/holiday art or similar to celebrate. Some blogs would send out valentines to multiple blogs just as a nice cute lil treat in a similar vein to how some blogs still do trick-or-treating events. Trick-or-treating events have been a thing for awhile, generally following that same structure, but it's become significantly more popular in general now that tumblr has image embeds possible in asks rather than having to submit a post. Other fandom events can include fandom elections like mentioned before, or any number of things really, but the majority of regular ones will include gift/fanwork exchanges in some form. Secret Santa projects are very common (and PJO did have them! There isn't one singular PJO Secret Santa blog since it seems different folks did different years so I can't link it, but I participated in 2016 iirc. It looks like the most recent one was in 2021 - pjosecretsanta2021). I did find Rrversesummerbang as a recently active one as well. Zines and similarly collaborative projects are also common - PJO fandom does occasionally have zines but they aren't very frequent and generally don't get a ton of traction (which is very sad cause zines are very fun - most of it seems to be just the fandom doesn't have good ways of getting word out about events through the community). We've also had a couple of coloring book projects! I participated in the 2016 one and there was another in 2022. Some other fandom and pan-fandom examples of similar stuff is Mcytrecursive (Gift exchange for fic-of-fic, in this case MCYT-specific), Fic in a box, Mcytblraufest (AU fest), general holiday exchanges, etc. (A lot of my examples are MCYT cause man that fandom is active). There are a lot of pan-fandom ones of these, but usually involvement of specific fandoms is entirely dependent on sign-ups and it can be difficult to know or guarantee any specific communities participating. Fandom-specific ones are generally more well-known in their own communities for obvious reasons. In other projects, Riordanverse fandom even once had a Multi-Animator Project! These are more common in fandoms like Warrior Cats that are very artist and animator-centric, but the fact that we have at least one major one at all is pretty cool! Collaborate games in similar veins to big events/projects like this (see stuff like the art meme/games) can also be great ways to get the community active and engaged. Voting/poll stuff like character or ship brackets can be really interesting too and depending on how it goes down can become an EXTREMELY major event in the community (see: MCYT Tumblr Sexyman bracket). Very fun times.

- Incorrect Quotes / Text Post Memes / Chat Posts Rolling back to headcanon/imagines blogs, incorrect quotes for specific ships/character groupings used to be extremely common. And not even just dedicated blogs, but incorrect quotes/chat posts were pretty much the number one thing the average fan who didn't create fanart/fanfic/etc would post. I was actually quite surprised to see that Incorrectpercicoquotes is still alive. They post more than just incorrect quote/chat posts (not uncommon for blogs of those nature, especially back in the day), but still it feels like seeing a thought-to-be-extinct-species in the wild eating a bag of chips. Anyways, like shortform headcanons and memes/shitposts (of which these are somewhat a subcategory of), these are another low barrier to entry type of fandom engagement, which means they're great for new members of the community.

- Askblogs MY FAVORITE TOPIC. I have a list of PJO askblogs on my sidebar actually cause I'm very passionate about them and askblogs in general. For what an askblog is, my blog @askblog-index goes over that and also I answered some questions about askblogs recently, which you can find in my askblogs tag (also I'm always open to answering questions about askblogs please ask me about askblogs I love them so much). There's so many different varieties too - text, illustrated, cosplay, voice acting, combination, etc etc etc. Askblogs are a really fun means for collaborative storytelling in the community, especially with how much they tend to generate headcanons or put characters in silly little scenarios. Cherryandsister's Will Solace askblog is practically personally responsible for a solid 50% of all Will fanon. Photokinesis!Will was entirely popularized there. They're also a really great place for people in the community to build up their skills - yknow those jokes about "the best way to improve your art is to become obsessed with something and draw it one billion times?" yeah askblogs are that. My art improved so much by starting an askblog because it pushes you to draw things you might avoid normally or wouldn't expect to draw - or if it's not an art askblog, is just plain good practice for writing or voice acting or whatever. It's a regular outlet where you can build up your skills with not a lot of pressure but also outside encouragement and concepts to build off of. Character or fandom-specific daily art blogs and similar request art blogs are similarly also very useful to building up skills (and can be applied to other artforms like fic writing!) (Request blogs are not the same as askblogs though please dont send random art requests to askblogs just gotta put that disclaimer). I also personally consider them extremely vital to fandom ecosystems, though often overlooked - remember those old "ask the seven" posts that would be the terribly colored text in random fonts on a white or poorly-chosen-color background that'd just be random stuff and it'd get reposted absolutely everywhere? For a lot of people that's both some of the first stuff in a fandom that they might make, and also some of the first stuff people used to see in fandoms in general. With my whole silly theory of fandom ecological niches, those types of posts are your base of the pyramid, because it's where most fans are going to start out. It gives them a low-stakes place to begin engaging with the community and figure themselves out and begin exploring the characters and media on a deeper level. That's what fandom is all about! It's what separates fandom from just the general audience of any particular thing. Those types of posts were popular because they're just easy to make! All you need is mspaint, if even! They get across their concepts quickly and easily in an easily sharable format - that's exactly why they got reposted absolutely everywhere! The concept of those posts (and general character chat posts/incorrect quotes) still exist in other spaces in fandom communities, but in different formats - usually tiktoks, being spoken and acted out loud. The problem with that format though is it can't go anywhere - even in shortform video format there's no way to easily condense it down (and also they have a higher barrier to entry, as the format at it's simplest usually requires some aspect of showing your face/using your voice. This means you inherently have to sacrifice some amount of privacy to engage with the format, which isnt friendly to new/younger fans). Meanwhile these ask-the-seven posts are one jpeg that gets across the entire concept. And we've evolved! We have better technology! We can pick better colors and fonts and add image descriptions! We can bring the format back!

- Cosplay This one is pretty self-explanatory - just. Cosplays are a type of fanwork too! PJO cosplay used to be pretty common on tumblr actually! Particularly there used to be a decent number of cosplay askblogs (which are just askblogs where instead of responding to questions with text or a drawing, asks are answered with either a gif or image of the mun/mod in cosplay reacting in-character). Cosplay is cool! And in PJO fandom it's particularly easy!

- Roleplaying Spaces PJO fandom does have a pretty active tumblr RP scene as far as I've been able to tell, which is good! Also you can find people who want to RP pjo just about anywhere. It's just somewhat of a matter of giving them a space to do so. I talked about how to get into roleplaying recently on my blog as well. RP is also one of the forms of fandom infrastructure in this list that transfers well to other social media platforms, in large part due to social media RP making it a whole lot easier. The fandom is mostly just severely lacking in hubs to locate RPs and help people find ways to begin engaging with them.

- Public AUs / OCs Public AUs/OCs are a bit of a weird one to describe - they're basically any AU/OC that the creators (if there is a singular known creator of it) have given total free reign to people with. More often it's an AU that doesn't have a particular known creator but the fandom likes to run around with and do a lot with. In PJO fandom, the ye olde fandom OC was Peter Johnson, a son of Demeter. The AU generally was about how Peter Johnson was a new camper and Mr. D's favorite camper, and just generally a sweet lil guy while Mr. D proceeds to torment Percy because of the name jokes. A series of public AUs that's completely unique to PJO is Godswap aus - there's no one singular set godswap au, but the two most common swaps tended to be Demeter!Percy (in part due to Peter Johnson) and Aphrodite!Nico (admittedly this one was like 90% gay stereotypes/homophobic tropes and there's a reason why the fandom kind of dropped it. It was absolutely the most popular godswap for a time though, and some of the concepts from it have bled into general Nico fanon for better or worse). General pirate aus have also always been very popular in the fandom - there were some old ones back in the day, including local BNF (Big Name Fan) Saberghatz having at least one, maybe like two or three, including a cosplay. Pirate!Nico in particular was very popular. There was actually a slight resurgence of PJO pirate AUs on pjo cosplay tiktok in like 2020 or so I wanna say. Truly we came full-circle there. There's also just general popular AUs that fandoms like to run with. For awhile PJO fandom had a HTTYD au they really loved. The current fandom favorite AU seems to be Velinxi's Young Gods/Hades Game AU.

- Fangames This one might sound odd because Riordanverse fandom doesn't really have this, but fangames can be REALLY fun and cool. Fangames also often spark mini-fandoms in themselves and are just really awesome in general. There's a lot of different varieties of vastly varying complexities, but a lot of it is pretty much just "I made a game, it's about [fandom], here ya go." Some good examples from other communities off the top of my head are games like ClanGen or Untold Tales for Warrior Cats, or Featherbent from the Homestuck fandom which was a visual novel / AU fanfic. Btw, visual novels are actually not all that difficult to create. If you're interested in trying to make one I highly recommend checking out Ren'Py - it's basically a program to make visual novels with.

- Other project types / General Collaboration Related to community events, particularly Multi-Animator Projects (MAPs), AMVs/PMVs/Lyricstucks ("animated music videos" and "picture music videos" - lyricstucks are the same as the latter but usually in a scrolling tumblr post format with the song linked at the beginning rather than video format) are very cool and can be both individual or collaborative projects (in Riordanverse fandom most are probably very familiar with Viria's old lyricstucks - Nothing Left To Say and How Far We've Come). Some folks do dubs of fancomics (also used to be a thing in PJO fandom, particularly back when the PjoVoices group was active and the brief stint in the fandom when we had some Voice Acting askblogs) which can be a nice way to collaborate and engage with other fans in different mediums. "Aesthetics"/Moodboards (usually an arrangement of either 2x3 [former] or 3x3 [latter] grids of images) and the more recent "webweaves" also are a great low barrier to entry type of fanwork that has a lot of variety and versatility (just make sure to credit art/photos used) - especially if you make moodboards/webweaves inspired by people's AUs/fics/etc!

- Gifset Makers / Editors In Riordanverse fandom we don't see this often, because we're primarily a book fandom, but back in the days of the movies and more recently now with the show, editors and gifset makers are a very cool niche of fanwork creators. Gifset makers is pretty self-explanatory - they're people who make gifs. Editors can range from people who make edits of clips or put together clips of images or a whole bunch of very different things. Very wide range there. Edits (with credit to the original artists) can be a really fun alternative to AMVs/PMVs/etc if you don't draw but you have a concept (CREDIT THE ARTISTS - trust me, having your art used in an edit can feel super cool but ONLY IF IT'S CREDITED. IF IT'S NOT CREDITED IT'S NOT FUN. if you ask and credit people will probably be happy about it!). Edit blogs can also be very fun and are often a big hit in fandoms - "Where is [x]" and "[character] in places" are classics. Again just remember to credit artists appropriately and ask permission to use their work.

- Fanwork Promotion Blogs/Hubs PJO fandom does have a couple of these still floating around I think! I don't know them off the top of my head but I swear i've seen them recently. Regardless - these are any sorts of blogs that promote other fanworks. Maybe it's dedicated to just general fanart, general fanfic, stuff of a specific AU or concept. Going back to previous bullet points, character or ship-specific blogs are a form of these. They can range from elaborate and complex with how they promote or spotlight and recommend works, to just literally being random reblogs of stuff of a specific topic. These can actually also be a really nice if you're looking for a simple way to get more involved in the community, because chances are if you're on tumblr you know how to reblog things and that's about all it takes. These hubs can be really nice ways for more fans in the community to get spotlighted/recognition and become more well-known, and it also helps fans looking for specific types of fanwork. (The only caveat with these is if you are going to make a generalized hub blog, you have to actually make it generalized. You can't just exclude the things you personally don't like just because you don't like them - if you don't want to deal with that, make a more specialized hub blog for your more focused interests instead.) (Also personally I'd recommend if you're making one of these types of blogs that you're an adult, cause these blogs can require fandom tag-spelunking that may not be appropriate for all ages - ESPECIALLY if you run a fanfic hub.)

- General Resources This can look like a lot of things, particularly depending on what the fandom is about, but in general a lot of fandoms will have dedicated places to finding different types of information, and often important fandom terminology and sometimes fandom history. Fan Wikis may cover some of this, but not always (and depending on how the wiki(s) are run in a particular community, may not even have reliable information to begin with. I'm looking at you Riordanverse wiki). In furry fandom for example there's a ton of resources for how to get started in the community, commonly accepted community guidelines and general etiquette, fandom history and terminology, resources to find fursuit makers or other artists, various tutorials, etc etc etc. PJO fandom does not really have this! Like i mentioned in previous bullet points, while we have some hub/promotion or character/ship-specific blogs, they're relatively far and few between and commonly inactive, not to mention usually very specific in what niche they're focused on. The wiki only covers the source material (and is questionable quality at best most of the time) with there being next to no resources in the community in general for stuff like fandom history or terminology or etc. Did you know PJO fandom used to be part of the Superwholock of book fandoms (it was PJO, HP, Hunger Games, and Divergent. there was a whole symbol for it)? Did you know we used to have our own fandom lingo? Members of the fandom were usually called demigods or half-bloods, people would put their cabins in their bios (people would make little banners or other decorations to put on your blog themes to show your cabins or pjo stuff in general!), and we'd say stuff like "Spread this like greek fire" and "Amazhang" and etc. Those are actual things people said unironically very frequently. You're probably most likely to be familiar with "Persassy." We don't necessarily need to bring all of those things back, but point is we did use to have a community identity and sort of genuine subculture! And we lost that! There are so many community jokes and similar that most people have forgotten or at best kind of know of but don't remember the origins or contexts for. In other communities they have documentation for this kind of stuff - you should see some of the documentation that MCYT fandom does, particularly if the MCYT in question is a popular streamer or the SMP is primarily streamed content. Holy cow it's thorough. Resources and documentation are what help keep fandoms alive, because they give a means for new members of the community to learn the history of the community, learn established rules and etiquette, and just generally find their way around where they otherwise might be lost. It's really invaluable but often overlooked.

Okay, i think that's all the ones i can think of. This post has taken me over a full day of working on it, lol. Anyways i'm very passionate about fandom history and PJO fandom history/community in general so this was very fun for me to go on a deep-dive about. Also now i'm really tempted to put a lot of my old fandom knowledge and unnecessarily complicated lists/documentation to good use and try to help build up some of these bullet point concepts for riordanverse fandom myself because dammit somebody's gotta do it. But that's all i've got for now! As always feel free to ask me to elaborate on anything, or if you just wanna hear me babble on more about general fandom structures (i have another ramble about different types of fandoms relating to what fanworks they tend to exhibit the most!)/pjo fandom history/askblogs/RP community/whatever, I am always more than happy to talk!

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Princess

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), spanking, fingering, PinV, choking, brat taming, slight bit of name calling (slightly dubious to have sex with someone after rescuing them from a kidnapping but we'll ignore that)

Summary: Reader is the daughter of a prolific genral who's been kidnapped while she was trying to party it up with her friends. Ghost and Soap are recruited to rescue her, and soon find out that reader's attitude might be more of a challenge than the gang they're trying to rescue her from.

(No use of y/n)

A/N: I can't get Ghost out of my head and tbh I kinda feel like he'd be so good at dealing with your bratty nonsense if he had to.

- 👑-

You were sure you were going to die. 

Not because your family didn’t have the money, not because there weren’t enough resources  to save you, or even because of your own natural pessimistic tendencies. No. You were sure you were going to die because your father had made it abundantly clear long ago that you didn’t matter to him. 

You weren’t a man. You couldn't carry his title on and you’d grown up learning that that was mostly all he cared for. His legacy. It was one of the few things that cold man spoke of fondly, always lighting up at the mention of your brothers but never you. And as a result you’d grown up living for even the smallest chance at spiting him for it. You partied and drank and slept around with boys that made even your friends curl their lips at you sometimes. 

So, you were pretty sure that once your kidnappers realised that, that could only mean one thing. One of those big guns they were carrying was going to end up pointed right in your face then…bang. 

It was enough to leave you disoriented, you weren't taking in much. Not that there was much to take note of. Your eyes were shoddily covered over with a scrap of harsh, scratchy cloth and you could only see little slivers of things here and there. Your hands were duct taped to the arms of an office chair and your mouth was similarly covered so as to prevent anymore screams and curses.

You watched sets of boots as they echoed around the frigid room, and saw gun barrels and machetes, men roving across a scuffed up concrete floor. You didn’t catch anything that made you want to see more. Especially when you heard the taunts they slung at you in their thick accents.

“Don’t worry precious, I’m sure a spoiled little rich girl like you will get a good ransom, you’ll be home soon.”

“Bet you’re used to guys with big guns like this, daddy’s men must love you.”

“She’s a cute little thing, we should have some fun with her before we send her back.”

“I’ve heard she likes to have lots of fun, bet we’d slip right into her, fucking american girls.”

If the blindfold came off then that would only mean one thing. They were going to make good on the salacious threats they were now casually slinging your way. The fantasies they were now trading back and forth as they returned to speaking their own language. That was a small mercy at least. Not having to hear about how the last few moments of your life would go. 

You could feel your body shaking like an addict in withdrawal and your poor heart was leaping around in your chest like a caught frog. It didn’t help that you were riling yourself up either, imagining what the newspapers would say. Flashing up in your mind like something out of an old batman episode with a blaring brass section accompanying them.

 Daughter of a notable general killed in shock kidnapping

Holiday in Cancun turned nightmare as General’s daughter taken in the night

You couldn't even be sure if you were still in Mexico. For all you knew you were in all those other countries that you’d been too busy crafting a reputation to learn about in school. What were they again? Guatemala, Cuba? You were sure those were somewhere close by. Funny the things the mind distracts itself with when you’re stuck tightly in a chair surrounded by leering wolves. 

If only you hadn’t been drawn in by that tattooed man with the big arms. If only you’d been a good girl and enjoyed your holiday and stuck close to your friends instead of going out on the hunt for attention from bad men covered in tattoos and cologne that smelt like bad decisions. You could practically hear your father’s growly voice echoing through your mind. 

Stupid little girl. 

He’d been saying that for as long as you had memories of him. He’d be satisfied now, you lamented. You’d proved him right in the end, he’d always said your lifestyle would catch up with you and you’d be wishing that you’d just behaved for once sooner or later.  

At the very least, you figured, you wouldn’t have to hear him say I told you so. 

- 👑-

You weren't sure how much time had passed. It could’ve been a few minutes, or it could’ve been hours, but as your breathing grew more ragged behind the tape you knew you were experiencing the last few precious moments you had left. 

The men were sounding more and more pissed off as they rattled off curses to each other, filling the room with sharp hisses. They weren’t getting the results they wanted. They’d even removed the tape at some point and had you screaming out for a video, but apparently that wasn’t getting them anywhere either. They got tired with your cries and slapped an even thicker strip back in place.

You were starting to cry, feeling the stiff cloth go damp against your skin and irritating it further. It was so thick and itchy over your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to pull it off. You needed to see, needed to breathe. You were panicking. You needed out, you needed air, you needed to feel safe again. 

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

You were chanting it in your mind, it rang through your head like a death toll. It seemed like those would be your last thoughts. You’d die panicking and snotty and covered in dried salty tears that mixed into a sludge with your thick mascara.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the-

Thiew.

Crack.

Thud.

Every muscle in your body froze as you heard an alien sound zip through the room. Then suddenly everything erupted.

The men’s shouts turned into screams and barked orders and suddenly you were being wheeled around in your chair in the dark like a shopping cart. You were whizzed past men that were running and crouching into your limited vision, aiming their guns and returning fire as more bullets wailed into the room. And finally you found yourself slamming into a corner somewhere, banging your knees against a rough drywall. 

You screamed behind your gag and listened out as more men hit the ground and the guns grew into a cacophony of bangs. Death’s orchestra played for a solid few minutes, ringing in your ears and distorting the sound of your thrumming heartbeat as it crawled up through your throat and into your head.

You were sure you were going to die. 

The battle raged on for a few moments more until suddenly the men’s shouts silenced and the bullets grew sparse. All you could hear was the echoes of gunfire and shrill ringing from your unprotected ears. 

What was that?

You swore you could hear voices coming toward you.

“It’s alright, lass.”

You jumped as you felt someone touch your shoulder and cursed behind the tape in your mouth as the unidentified man tried to soothe you. It wasn’t until he pulled your blindfold down and you were greeted with his bruised face and ruffled mohawk that you calmed down, focusing your gaze on his icy pale eyes. He wasn’t one of the men who took you.

“I’m gonna take this tape off, ye good wi’ that?”

You frowned at the man, unsure if he was speaking english. You weren’t used to that accent, what was that accent? Scottish? Irish? 

You only had a few seconds to look up at him blankly before he gave up on getting a response and ripped the tape from your mouth, drawing out a scream with it.

“You motherfucker!” you shrieked, feeling a layer of skin peel from your face.

“Easy! It’s ok! What's the sayin’ agian? Best to rip it off like a band-aid, yeah?” he chuckled.

“Not when it’s fucking duct tape over my face, you- you stupid- oh, oh no, my god, oh my god look out!”

You screamed as you caught a giant man emerging through the shadows and through the doorway into the dingy room you’d been wheeled into. A skull mask obscured his face and a massive gun was braced in his hands, he looked as if he could take on an entire army by himself. He was fuck off sized and ready to kill. 

Your rescuer whipped around and raised his gun at your shout, body bracing and ready to defend you. Though, as he faced the hulking behemoth behind him he relaxed and lowered his gun again, cursing you through gritted teeth. Though, he turned back around to you with a smirk.

“He might be a scary lookin’ bastard, but that ones on our side,” he explained, slinging his gun behind him and getting to work on the tape on your wrists. “Sit tight and I’ll get you out of this in a sec, ok?”

“Is she hurt?” the masked man asked, flicking his dark gaze over your slumped body.

“Nah, doesn’t look like it,” the first man replied.

“She is scarred for life actually,” you huffed out, clutching your one freed arm to your chest. “What the fuck happened? Who the fuck are you two?”

“Settle down, princess. For now we need to get you out of here and back to your father, quickly and quietly, yeah?”

His accent was different from the other man’s, though to you it was just as difficult to make out through that thick gravely timbre. That one was definitely english, you thought, it sounded like ones from TV shows you’d watched when you were younger. It made you wonder what the hell the two brits were doing rescuing you when your dad was an American general. 

Did he find them on Craigslist or something?

Typical of him to find a couple of brutish thugs to come fetch you rather than calling on one of the teams that he worked with, you thought sourly. 

Though, as both your arms were free and you stepped onto wobbly feet you grew to appreciate his choice in rescuers more as they both towered above you. Even if they weren’t American they clearly knew their way around a fight.

“We’re gonna need you to follow us and do exactly as we say, ok? There’s still a few men lurkin’ about and if you want to get back to your family in one piece, we’ll need to avoid them,” the first man said, putting his hand on your tensed shoulder.

“You haven’t even gotten them all?” you hissed, escaping from his hold and backing against the cracking wall behind you.

The room was unfinished, crumbling from bullet holes and exposure to bad weather from the open windows. It looked like something straight out of a movie set, Soderbergh eat your heart out.

“We’ve gotten most of them,” the Scottish/Irish man shrugged, reaching around to secure his gun in his arms once again. “Some probably ran off durin’ the fight, but we can’t assume they aren’t hiding somewhere waitin’ for us.”

“Just be a good girl and do as you’re told, ok princess?” the other man growled, turning away from you and walking back out of the room. 

Your mouth dropped open and just as you were about to fire off another retort, it died in your mouth when you heard a shot ring out from the hallway. 

“All good, LT?” the first man called out, ushering you behind him. 

“Solid, Soap,” the other man replied.

Soap?

That’s just great, you thought, you were stuck with a man named soap and his big ape of a friend wearing a spirit halloween special across his face. You could practically feel your chances of survival drop through the ground and into hell. You could feel the hot flames licking at your feet already, biting at your toes. Or perhaps that was the fact you’d been stuck in heels for an inappropriate length of time. Who knew?

“Alright, lets get movin’. Remember to stay close and stay quiet. We don’t know where these guys are hiding,” Soap reminded you. “Stick to my back and we won't let anythin’ happen to you, alright?”

You were out of sass for the time being. You could only nod your reply as you followed his orders, too afraid of him leaving you behind as he started advancing out of the room.

You might have felt annoyed at the fact they were treating you like a stupid little girl, but you were too wrapped up in the adrenaline of the situation to object anymore. You’d heard the gunfire, could still hear the echoes of it pelting through your ears. You knew you couldn't afford not to listen to the two incredibly patronising soldiers before you. 

“Try to keep your eyes up, lass,” Soap whispered, gazing back at you briefly before heading through the doorway. 

“Why do I have t- oh fuck!”

You could’ve thrown up as your eyes connected with the bloody corpses that littered the hallway like flies on a roll of catcher paper. There were so many of them. You could feel the bile fighting its way up your gullet as you stopped against the wall and closed your hazy eyes. Bodies. Actual dead bodies. 

You’d never seen one before. Yet here you were surrounded by them, queen bee of a dead hive. It was too much. Staying up felt like fighting gravity and you were reduced to a pile on the floor in no time, huddled on a relatively blood free patch and stuck still against the rough chalky grey wall to your side.

“Ghost, we’ve got a problem,” Soap muttered, staring down at you with a worried look. 

There were a few seconds of blessed silence where you closed your eyes and everything was ok for a second. You weren’t in a shithole crack den building in god knows where and instead you were back at the hotel, getting ready to go to bed with your girlfriends. Yes. You were going to put on pyjamas and take some painkillers and peace the fuck out till noon the day after.

“Fuckin hell.”

The growl brought you out of your daydream and soon you were looking up at the cold crocodilian eyes of the now named Ghost. Had he expected you to do better in the hallway of a thousand corpses? 

“Alright, princess, up you get.”

You whimpered and expected him to offer you his hand to get you to your feet again, but you were taken by surprise when he leaned over you and enveloped you in his huge arms. You weren’t sure what the hell he was doing at first, but all became clear as you were hoisted over his shoulder and sprawling down his back like a chef’s tea towel. 

“What the hell, dude! Put me down,” you growled out, thumping your fists against his thick layer of tactical gear. 

“Quiet down, sweetheart. It’s not like you’re much use in those heels anyway,” he growled out, tugging on one of your silvery strappy shoes for emphasis. 

“You can’t just pick me up like a sack of fucking potatoes!” you protested, continuing to feebly fail to fight your way out of his grasp.

“Apparently I fuckin’ can,” he chuckled, rumbling in that horrible patronising voice of his. “Now…Settle. Down.”

And with that he started moving again, taking you past the tour of bodies that you’d folded at moments before, stepping through them like you might do through a botanical garden. The men were poked full of bullet holes and some even had knives jutting out of their skulls, but it didn’t seem to phase your rescuers. They were in their element. You were decidedly not. 

You felt like you were going to be sick and wondered briefly what the terrifying man would say if you were to throw up on him. Would he drop you as revenge? You quivered in his arms as he moved through the halls, following his partner faithfully in the shadows, only seeing by the light of the moon in some sections of the house. 

Not soon enough, after being thoroughly traumatised for two lifetimes, you emerged out of the house you were in. Only hearing two more men be taken out before you were free to breathe fresh air again. You cleared out the disgusting smell of coppery blood and gulped in huge breathfuls of clear night air.

Air. Moonlight. Stars. You were in a barren front garden in the middle of nowhere. You could see out for miles toward that inky black sky on the horizon. 

It wasn’t like something out of a nightmare anymore, this was real. And it was a new kind of scary. It was night and it was cold and your shivering renewed again as the giant placed you back down on your feet and let you stand on your own. 

Why was it so fucking cold? 

“You see anyone else?” Ghost asked his partner, sticking faithfully by your side.

“Negative. Think we’re good to move out, LT,” Soap said, giving his surroundings one last careful scan.

“Thank fuckin’ god. Might even get back to the safehouse before mornin’ at this rate.”

Safehouse?

What?

“Um, what do you mean safehouse?” you prodded, feeling the cold start sinking into your clattering teeth.

“It’s a house that’s safe,” ghost ‘helpfully’ provided. 

“I fucking know that,” you said through gritted teeth, “what I mean is, why the fuck are we going to a safehouse? I need to go home. I need to get to an airport or something or like- like you should be calling me a helicopter or something! Why would we go to some safehouse and stay here any longer?”

“Your dad ordered us to take you there once we had you secured,” Soap said, staring over at you with a calculating gaze. “Now are you going to come get in the car yourself or does Ghost need to pick you up again?”

Fuck you.

You didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of answering. 

- 👑-

“He’s doing this to punish me isn’t he? It’s fucking typical you know! Only he would pull this shit, only my dad would find out I got kidnapped and send in two fucking random Englishmen and not even want to get me home-“

“Whoa! Watch it!” Soap shouted, interrupting you mid rant. “You can call me a lot of things, but don’t fuckin’ call me English, sweetheart.”

“English, Scottish, Irish- whatever the fuck you are! Point is he should be here! He shouldn’t be letting me stew in some random safe house with you two…two- two strangers,” you whined, throwing your arms up in the air. “For all he knows you could both be serial rapists!” 

“We’re two strangers that just saved your life, princess,” Ghost grumbled from the front seat. “And if your dad is punishing you, then I think I’m beginning to see why.”

Your mouth dropped like a lead weight and you stared daggers into the mirror, catching Ghost’s cold eyes in the reflection. He was still wearing the mask.

You were driving on country road that stretched almost  limitlessly into the horizon but for some reason he was still in disguise. Not that you cared to see his face! No, if anything, you hoped you’d be out of their company much sooner rather than later for him to reveal himself. Though, that wasn’t going to happen it seemed, so you resolved to make that everyone’s problem. Share the burden of being abandoned to Mexico. 

“In case you haven’t realised; I’m not exactly accustomed to dead bodies and I’ve just come from the midnight showing of night of the living fucking dead here! I should be getting wheeled into a therapists office right now, not getting bundled up into another strange house, spending the night with Micheal Myers and groundskeeper fucking Willie,” you growled out, penetrating your gaze into Ghosts very soul, hoping he’d feel a shred of pity for you. 

However, you weren’t doing a very good job of that. Instead of knocking sense into the big brute you only made him narrow his eyes at you. And to add even further insult, Soap choked back a laugh. Though, he composed himself quickly after casting a glance at the leuitenant and focused his eyes back on the road. 

“You’ve got a funny way of sayin’ thank you, princess.”

And that was the last thing he said to you before ignoring you completely. No matter how much you moaned and groused and demanded to be taken back home, neither of the men would answer your cries. Typical men! 

They left you to marinade in your own self pity - in a dish that was endlessly deep. Afterall, how could your father not appreciate how stressful your ordeal was? Sure, you both had your differences, but you’d have thought that even he would put his malice for you aside on account of an actual real life kidnapping! 

After a few more miles of barren road you found yourselves coming to a small village, and started to slowly roll toward a modest concrete house on the outskirts.

It was two floors high and painted a sandy cream colour, with a small sheltered space to park the car and protect it from the elements. It seemed as if it might just fit you and Soap through its tiny door, the ceilings didn’t look that high. And it was the thought of Ghost being stuck in its old wooden frame that made you finally crack a small smile for the first time since you’d been taken. 

“Any complaints about the exterior before we step in, sweetheart, or would you like to save your scathing words for when you’re inside?” Soap teased as he opened the car door for you. 

“Very funny,” you huffed, smile disappearing you made sure to knock into the door as you stepped out. “Maybe you can go make fun of some terrorist victims next.”

Soap raised his brows, but didn’t bother to dignify you with a reply. He closed the door behind you instead and walked up to house and unlocked it for you, ushering you inside. Not that there was much to walk into. 

There was some basic furniture, a ratty old couch, a table and chairs, a kitchen that hardly seemed stocked and an old orange cloth rug that looked like it had seen better days. The place smelt like old newspapers for some reason, and all in all, it didn’t inspire much hope in you for the rest of the house. And just as you caught yourself thinking that, you knew you’d already proved Soap right. You had many, many, many complaints. 

“Well, I drove. So I bagsy first shower,” Soap announced, trailing off toward the creaky wooden stairs at the end of the hall. “Try not to cause world war three while I’m gone.”

You balked as you felt Ghost brush past you, successfully getting through the door. Who had Soap directed that last order at? Jeuss. You were the kidnapping victim and somehow you didn’t qualify for washing up first? What was this?

Chivalry was truly dead. Though, it wasn’t like they’d rode up in white horses when they’d come to get you, no they emerged through a cloud of bullets and snatched you out of the house like a drug bust they could trade in for on the sly. 

“And what am I supposed to do now, hm?” You said, turning to the man now shedding his gear like a second skin onto the couch. 

He didn’t give you a response though, instead he just finished off pulling the various packs and armaments off of himself until he was left standing in his uniform and mask. He looked a few pounds lighter, but he was still massive compared to you. The equipment didn’t bulk him out quite as much as you’d suspected. 

“Is there a phone I can use?” You finally asked, exasperated with the silence. 

“No.”

He grunted as he took a seat on the couch and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his thick tattooed forearms. You couldn’t help but feel that that was some kind of threat. Though, your suspicions were eased as he shuffled around and crossed his arms around his head, lying down and closing his eyes. 

“So, what? We’re just waiting to see when my dad magically shows up?” You needled.

“You asked If there was a phone that you could use,” he reminded, glancing over at you with slitted eyes. “Why don’t you go get some rest princess, there’s rooms upstairs that you can whine in in peace.”

What!

You clenched your fists at your sides and growled out in frustration. How was it that you were stuck with one of the most insensitive men in the world right after you got kidnapped? In fact it felt like you were being held hostage all over again.

Well you weren’t going to sit there and take it this time!

Before you could think about how bad an idea it was, you marched straight over to the sofa and started digging through Ghosts things. You crouched and moved aside all the smaller pouches and sharp pointy things trying to find anything that might resemble a phone. Though you didn’t get much of an opportunity to look, you were swiftly dragged up to your feet by the masked man and knocked away from his stash. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, not sparing a single decibel from piercing your already abused ears. 

“I need to use a phone! I need to call someone!” You screamed back. “I need to tell people I’m alright. My friends must be worried sick and you’re treating me worse than a prisoner! E-Even prisoners get their phone calls!”

You tried desperately to fight against his hold, and screeched and hit against him like a banshee. However the man was solid, his hands were digging into your skin like a bear trap. And even as you tried to scratch at him, it didn’t deter him any. He just held you against him, making you smell the sweat off of him, the bullets, the smoke, you breathed him in as he pinned your hands flush to your body and screamed out as it became too much.

“In case you’ve forgotten, princess, we’re hiding out in a safe house right now because you’ve just been bloody kidnapped! You can’t call anyone because we need to keep the line clear and wait for word from back home. This isn’t fucking vacation, sweetheart, this is a fucking mission,” Ghost roared. 

You froze at his words. Your body felt like it had been hit by lightning and all of a sudden you could feel the storm in you shifting. All of the adrenaline was draining from you and just like that, you went from fighting like a rabid dog to blubbering like a baby. You broke down in his arms and felt the tears flowing freely back down your cheeks and fell back against him defeated. 

“Oh Jesus,” Ghost muttered to himself. 

Of course you hadn’t forgotten you’d been kidnapped. You were just dealing with it all in the only way you could. it just so happened, that when you fell back on instinct to get you through hard times it would result in you being, well as your dad put it, a massive pain in the ass. You were sure that Ghost would say the same. 

You didn’t even try to compose yourself, you were too upset to think. 

So, as Ghost came to that conclusion too, he decided to take matters into his own hands and picked you up again. Though, instead of putting you over his shoulder this time, he held you tightly against his chest and carried you off into one of the side rooms further into the house. 

The floor protested with every step the big man took and even over your shaky sobs, you could hear the wood below groaning like a zombie. He checked in the first door, and then the second on the wall to the right, coming to a stop when he found what he was looking for. Through blurry eyes you could see that you were in a small bathroom. A messily tiled room that contained an old wooden cabinet, a sink and a toilet. 

Ghost sat you down on the closed toilet seat and pulled some tissue from the roll, pressing it into your limp hands. You looked down at it like it was alien for a second, not sure what to do until you met Ghosts unwavering gaze. You needed to dry your eyes and get control of yourself. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he sighed, turning and reaching into the cabinet. 

You gulped down a fat sob that had been threatening to come and sniffled softly instead. As much as you begrudged him, you knew Ghost’s logic was sound. You needed to get a hold of yourself and stop crying in front of him. He was hardly the sympathetic audience for it.

In fact it almost made you laugh when he turned back again and his skull mask caught the light. The hard plastic only served to remind you that he wasn’t going to sit and rub your back and make you feel better about it all. It was like he said, this was a mission for him, and his only concern was getting you out of Mexico alive. 

“There you go, deep breaths,” he said in a hushed voice, putting his hand on your shoulder for a second. 

The warm contact was comforting for a fleeting moment, his hand was gentle yet firm on you before he took it away. He’d fetched a cloth from the cabinet and stepped over to the sink, running it under the water and stepping back to your side. You’d expected him to hand it to you just like he had done with the toilet paper, but instead he took you by surprise and crouched at your level, stepping down from his massive height. 

He smoothed the cloth over your cheeks and down your tear tracks, softly clearing up your sensitive skin. When he’d brought the cloth away and refolded it, you’d half expected it to be a muddied black from your makeup but there were only traces of grey. You’d cried most of your makeup off already. Then, after a few more goes at letting him clear up your face you almost jumped out of your skin when a piercing ring sounded out from the living room.

“Stay here,” the soldier softly ordered, handing you the stained cloth. 

Ghost ducked out of the room, and you lamely held the cloth in your hand, listening out to what he was doing. He silenced the ring, presumably answering the phone he’d secreted away, and for a second all there was was fuzzy silence and the low ringing that hadn’t left your ears. 

“Mhmm,” Ghost grunted, his rumble cutting clear through your tinnitus. “Yeah we’re clear I reckon. Didn’t pass anyone on the way in…no one awake, no curtains twitching…your daughter is-…mhmm…yeah…ok. Well just so you know, your daughter is…fine by the way.”

The gruff man said the last part quietly, and it was that that clued you into the fact your dad probably hung up before he could catch it. He didn’t care how you were, only cared that you hadn’t been killed by a foreign gang. That probably wouldn’t have done his image any favours, you thought to yourself. What man wasn’t able to protect his family? A high ranking general at that. All that mattered was that you were safe and he didn’t have a PR crisis on his hands. How you were doing was none of his concern.

You gulped thickly when Ghost reentered the room and did your best to put on a brave face. He didn’t say anything. He flicked his eyes over your grave expression and took the cloth back from your hands, wetting it under the tap again and handing it back to you. 

“Those must be killing you,” he murmured, gesturing to your feet. 

You startled when he spoke again, not used to having a conversation with someone who’s lips were hidden behind a skull facade. It was quite unnerving when his rasp broke through the cloth.

Eventually though you nodded, looking down at your feet and finally acknowledging all the blisters that had formed where the straps had dug into you. The shoes had been new, you’d been excited to wear them when you put them on earlier. Now, they were just another regret among many. 

“Let’s get them off, hm?”

You nodded again, caught by surprise by the tender way that he was dealing with you out of nowhere. Perhaps out of pity after speaking to the General. You had no way of knowing if he was sympathetic to that type of thing. He was a soldier afterall. They dealt with much worse than emotional neglect and were often oblivious to the cold way your dad treated you. At least in your previous experience of them...

Ghost got to his knees and softly took one of your feet in his hands, turning it slowly this way and that a couple times, until he caught sight of the tiny buckle. He dealt with it like he was diffusing a bomb. 

He carefully took the end of the strap in one hand and lifted the buckle with the other, gently letting the catch come loose. Then he slid the shoe from your foot and repeated the process with your other. You had to do a double take. Was this really the same man that had all but snapped at you like a vicious dog earlier? 

“Thanks,” you whispered, still uselessly holding the cloth in your hands. “Did the General say when we could leave?”

Ghost frowned as you addressed your dad by his title, but quickly fixed his eyes into that familiar cold stare. He thought to himself for a moment before he answered you. He was probably scared you’d kick off again, you realised. 

“He said he wouldn’t get here till evenin’ at least. Said he’d be bringing a chopper though.”

“Ok.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. You’d run out of words, and steam and any kind of fight and all the things that had kept you going before. 

You were going to be stuck with the two strangers until almost the next day. There was nothing you could do about it, no one you could complain to, no one that cared. You might as well just accept it. 

- 👑-

You’d ended up taking Ghost’s advice afterall. You’d finished cleaning up in the bathroom yourself and painfully trudged upstairs with your swollen feet, searching out the first bedroom you could find along the gloom of the lonely hallway. The lightbulb flickered and danced as you’d made your selection, chasing you into the room as it mimicked the gunfire you’d seen flashes of not hours ago. 

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, not like you thought it would. 

You’d been convinced you’d be left sitting like a character in a movie. Painfully watching the walls in the cold silence and mourning the life you could have had if only you came from a loving home. However, as much as you loved dramatics, you weren’t fit to live up to the hurting girl stereotype.

You realised that when you woke up again and the sun was shining through your room like a big bright fuck you. You thought you were getting a moment's peace? Think again. You were going to be awake for the rest of your internment at the safehouse. 

You sighed and scanned the room with your eyes, taking note of the peeling paint and sparse bits of furniture, confirming what you already knew. This room was just as shitty as all the rest. It wasn’t like there was any reason to maintain safehouses beyond being structurally sound and stocked with essentials, but it would’ve been nice to provide some comfort. At the very least they could’ve made it smell better, less musty, less like a place people came to rot.

“You’re awake.”

You yelped when you heard the voice break through the calm and looked over to the door, spotting the looming spectre that stood in your entryway. Ghost. Had he been watching over you the whole time you slept? You didn’t know whether to feel creeped out or grateful for the fact he was so concerned about your safety. 

“I am,” you finally said.

“Good. I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been watching over you after all. Maybe it had been Ghost’s footsteps that had woken you up. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination, he sounded worse than a herd of cows when he creaked across the floors.

You sat up when he walked into the room and caught a glance at the bowl in his hands. Something to eat was a good description of what he’d brought you. It looked like he’d heated some spaghettios. Not exactly the most appetising thing that you could think of, but given you hadn’t eaten since the morning before, you realised that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that you were often, if ever, a beggar. It was easier for your family to give you unlimited access to money and shut you up than it was for them to spend any time in your presence arguing that you should work for it. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl off of Ghost after staring at it for a few seconds. 

There was a spoon already shoved into the bowl, and when you picked it up, you found yourself wincing at the burning metal. Ouch. Ghost couldn’t have warned you they were hot? You glared up at him, but he was already retreating back out of the room, seemingly content that you had everything you needed.

But you didn’t feel like you had everything you needed at all.

You felt pathetic admitting it, but you didn’t want to be alone. Your ears were still ringing even hours after the firefight had ended and there was nothing to do in that bland room all alone. And now to top it all off it felt much too hot and sweaty. You felt like you might go mad. You softened your features again and called out to Ghost, praying against all odds that he’d indulge you. 

“C-can you stay?”

Ghost paused and turned his head, his skeletal mask caught the golden glow of the sun. It didn't look right. He looked out of place in the sunlight. Though, you knew better than to voice that thought, he wasn’t going to stay if you insulted him again. 

“If you really want me to,” he finally replied, tilting his head at you.

You nodded and watched as he looked around and found no alternative but to sit on the end of the double bed, and sighed as he plonked himself down. The bed rippled with his weight, and you almost let the bowl spill out of your hands, but thankfully caught it before it could drop.

That wouldn’t have been good, you thought. You’d already set yourself on eating it all when it had cooled. You couldn’t go without food any longer or your stomach would be gurgling like an alien. How embarassing.

“Did you manage to get some rest too?” you asked awkwardly, testing the spoon in your hands again.

“Some,” he answered, casting his eyes over you. “Soap traded places pretty quick.”

“What an asshole,” you snorted, lifting a spoonful of pasta to your lips and blowing on it.

“That arshole saved your life, princess,” Ghost reminded you, voice regaining its husky edge. “Show some respect.”

“I didn’t-I mean…I just figured you could’ve probably used the rest, I was just joking…Sorry,” you muttered, resigning yourself to eating instead of talking.

Ghost watched intently as you ate every last spoonful, but you ignored him, finding yourself greedily taking on more and more as you recognised your own hunger. You forgot about Ghost’s scolding for the moment as you felt your hunger pangs rattling from deep within you. Though, you felt a little better after finishing the bowl. You were going to eat so much when you got back home, you thought to yourself. 

You set the bowl down on the floor and looked back at your rescuer, staring awkwardly at him for a few moments. The silence was making your skin crawl. Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

“Do you ever take off that mask?” you blurted, feeling your cheeks heat up as you said it.

Ghosts eyes took on a glint as you’d said it and if you weren’t mistaken it felt like he was…smiling? You bit your lip and looked away from him, focusing instead on a particularly chipped patch of paint on the wall to his left side.

“Why? Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I just- I don’t get why you still have it on. The bad guys don’t know we’re here, right?”

“Maybe I’m just shy,” he teased, leaning back on the bed, his forearms rippling as they supported his weight. 

You snorted at his answer, folding your arms across yourself. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was staring at you bare faced, messy haired and still in yesterday’s tiny dress. There was no way that he was shy, and it seemed unlikely that he was ugly under there. He walked and talked like a confident man, like a man that had never questioned himself. How exciting.

“Has Soap ever seen your face?” you asked, picking at the loose threads on the blanket you laid under. 

“Why the sudden fascination?” he grumbled. “I thought I was a big scary serial rapist or somethin’?”

You winced as he threw your words from earlier back to you, it felt like you’d been burned with acid. You realised how stupid you sounded now. He’d held onto that. 

“I didn’t say that you were one, I said that you could be one,” you corrected, sighing at your own stupidity. “I didn’t know who you both were, in fact I still don’t. I guess- I guess I just got freaked out, is all. Do other people not react a little crazy when you go on rescue missions?”

“Other people tend to be more gracious, at the very least,” he snorted.

You winced again.

You really were a princess sometimes. As much as the nickname had been annoying you all night, the soldier wasn’t wrong to call you it. They’d been good enough to put themselves in harms way and carry you through a sea of threats only for you to turn around and return fire, calling them names. 

You put your head in your hands and groaned. You always slung your arrows at the wrong people. Always got prickly with people that tried to help. And they’d helped you more than anyone ever had.

“Thank you for saving me. I know it's a little late, but all the same…thanks for getting me out of there alive,” you murmured, catching a glance at his widened eyes. “And for- um, dealing with me earlier. That was nice of you cleaning me up like that.”

Ghost took a second to recover from you actually thanking him, his eyes staying open and shocked before returning to their usual shadowy state. They looked almost black even even in the sunlight. Though, you supposed it didn’t help they were hidden behind cloth and plastic. 

“You’re welcome, darlin’” he rumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Darling?” you grinned, preening at the warmth in his tone. “Am I growing on you?”

“Like black mould,” he groused, “Can’t get rid of your questions, can I?”

“You did not just compare me to mould,” you growled, forgetting yourself - and who you were facing up against - and shooting toward him with a pillow in hand.

Ghost, cast his eyes from you to the pillow and turned, catching you before you could do anything stupid with it and held you against the wide expanse of his chest again. You were held solidly against him, packed in tight and before you could do anything else, you were disarmed and your pillow was plucked right out of your hands and thrown back to the head of the bed.

“What’d you think you were gonna do with that then, ay?” he growled, his mouth dangerously close to grazing your ear. 

His breath was warm on your neck and it raised a trail of goosebumps across your flesh. You shivered in his arms, feeling his words send a shock through your body, and felt yourself go limp in his bulging arms. Why was he suddenly so much more enticing when he had you pinned down like this?

“Ay?” he asked again, releasing a low chuckle. “You think you can attack me, princess? Think you can do a bit of damage with those little arms?”

“I think I could do a lot of damage if you let me,” you breathed, scraping your lip under your teeth. 

The lieutenant paused and held you very still for a moment, his arms stiffening over your body like he’d moulded to you. Oh no. Had he not liked that, you wondered. Had you just embarrassed yourself again?

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, voice not losing his amusement.

Oh good. So he wasn’t disgusted with you.

“Maybe…depends on if you liked it or not.”

“And if I liked it?”

“Then, yes, I was.”

You both sat in silence for a second, you stayed trapped in his arms, holding stock still while he mulled over what you’d said. What now? You didn’t have to wonder very long, he released you and turned your body so that you faced him again, balancing precariously on your hands and knees, capturing your face in his hands so that you were forced to look at him. 

“You should be careful who you flirt with, princess. It’s like you said earlier, I’m a stranger in a mask, you have no idea who I am…No idea what I’m capable of,” he trailed, letting your own mind take over the implication he was getting at.

Not that you got the point that he was trying to make. If anything the whole thing was suddenly hotter to you. A rough fuck with the giant soldier that just rescued you from a gang of kidnappers and could pin you down like you were nothing? Hadn’t he sensed your issues from a mile off? Maybe he had, maybe that was why he said what he said. 

“Maybe I wanna find out,” you whispered.

You shot forward and kissed where you supposed his lips must be and, luckily, guessed correctly. You could feel him tense up in surprise before yanking you off of him and pinning you under him, holding your body down against the bed with his sculpted body, his legs caging yours in and his hands holding your wrists like manacles. 

“Give me one reason you want to, other than spiting your father,” he purred, eyes glowing with amusement and curiosity.

So he did know your game.

“You have a sexy voice,” you tried, fluttering your lashes in a way that you hoped would work on him. 

“Fuckin’ americans,” he grunted, laughing lowly to himself. “I want somethin’ better than that.”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to go fishing for compliments,” you snarked.

With that little comment , you were rolled over quicker than you could comprehend and before you could turn to see what he was doing he slapped you on the ass. It was solid, no nonsense. Enough to sting even though he’d done it through the fabric of your little dress. He wouldn't have to do much to expose you and make it hurt more. He’d just have to flip up the fabric. 

“Answer my question,” he growled, still holding one of your hands captive.

“Because I want you to teach me a lesson…because you’re the first person in a long time that’s had me minding my manners,” you sighed, using your free hand to give your body leverage enough to rut against the soldier's bulging crotch.

“Fuck me,” Ghost grunted, voice losing its sharpness as you rutted against him. 

“That worked?” you grinned, half shocked that it clearly convinced him. 

“You could have any cunt from England, princess, and plenty of em’ would sound like me. You think that they could make you beg like I can?” he questioned.

You were tempted to give him a sassy reply, but already knowing you too well, he hit you with a couple more spanks, this time on your bare ass and finally slipped your skirt up so that he could admire the flesh he was abusing. You gasped as he ran his hands over your cheeks and whimpered when he ran a finger over your slit. You practically feel his eyes glowing like laser sights as he connected with your glistening flesh and paused so that he could dip his finger into you and confirm his suspicions.

“Please,” you whined, praying that he’d start moving it, praying for friction.

“Looks like I’ve got my answer,” he chuckled, removing his soaked finger and slapping your ass noncommittally. “Please what, hm?”

“Please,” you cried out, feeling awfully empty as he’d withdrawn. “Please, I want your fingers. Want you to finger me please.”

“Aw, so cute when you’re all needy, princess. Alright. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I did ask nicely!” you whimpered, feeling your body burning with desire for him.

It felt like he was all you could think of now. The kidnappers and the whole resentment thing you had going for your family was a distant memory and all that remained was Ghost. All that remained was burning lust and a need to have him inside of you, possessing you wholly and taking you for his own.

“You’re such a little brat, princess. I just told you that you could have what you wanted and you just had to go spoil it for yourself,” Ghost said, his voice forging into a chilling point. “Looks like you need to be taught better manners.”

You groaned at his words, but you didn’t get much of a chance to work out what they meant. Instead, his hand rained down hard on your already stinging flesh and he spanked you like it was his next mission. You cried out as the smacks began to burn more and more and wriggled in his grasp, fruitlessly struggling against him and fighting his expert hands to no avail. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you chanted, giving him what you thought he wanted.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, accentuating each word with a slap. 

They were softer than the ones he’d been giving before at least. Like caresses against your screaming skin, fiery with his rough treatment.

“Sorry…for not asking nicely,” you said quietly, hoping to god he’d just give you what you wanted.

“Sorry, sir,” he grunted, running his hands over your hot skin.

“Sorry, sir,” you repeated quickly, sighing as his gentle touch soothed your prickling burns.

“That’s better.”

You hummed as his nails scratched down your cheeks and settled into the bed, feeling like the stiff blankets were transformed into egyptian cotton as your head grew fuzzy. His hands really were quite skilled, especially since he was so easily able to have you howling one second and then had you curling up like a cat the next.

“You wanna do this for the rest of the day or you wanna try asking for what you wanted again?” Ghost asked, his voice softening as he watched you relax.

“Mmm, would rather have your fingers inside me please, sir,” you moaned, smiling contentedly to yourself.

“That’s better…good girl.”

Your masked soldier grabbed your hips in his hands, making you feel tiny as he yanked you up like you were nothing. Yanked you into a half kneeling position as you kept your head pasted onto the bed, not having the strength to bring it up. Then finally, just as you were about to start begging again, spat on his hand and pierced his finger back inside you. 

You groaned at the intrusion and whined as he slowly pumped it in and out, getting you all worked up and turning you into a moaning mess. You were burning for more, your belly tightening as he worked his digit in and out and circled your clit with his other hand like it was an art. You whined and writhed and clutched at the sheets, crying out as he added another finger and increased his pace. You could feel the rumble that caught in his throat reverberate through your chest. ‘

“So pretty. Your cunt’s so wet and you’re clenching on me so hard. What would happen if I shoved my cock in there? Would you cum right away, princess?” he purred.

You whined out at that and felt your need light up anew, could feel it vibrate around your skull and through your gums. Yes. Stick your cock in me. That’s all you wanted, you wanted the big man on top of you, pinning you down and boxing you in like an animal, fucking into you like you were his own personal fleshlight. Fuck. 

“Ohmygod, please fuck me, Ghost!” you cried out, “Please, oh my god please, sir! Please fuck me.”

Ghost chuckled and slowed his pace, bringing his fingers to a near stop. It was like hell, the tingles dampening throughout your body, your high being torn from you. You growled out and tried to claw your way up, tried to face him and see the stupid glint that would no doubt be in his eyes, but before you could he shoved you back down and tapped your ass again.

“We don’t have condoms here, princess. It’s not exactly standard protocol,” he teased. “Doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”

“I don’t care! I’m on birth control and I get checked out by the doctor every month,” you whined, fighting against any argument he could make against giving you his cock. 

“Well…I suppose that changes things,” he grunted.

Thank fucking god! You were sure you were going to d-

“Fuck!”

Your strangled cry pierced the room as he replaced his fingers and thrusted into you, shattering you inch by inch with his massive cock. It seemed endless, it was torturous in all the right ways, the burn that licked through your body like a forest fire. He was huge, not that you doubted that of course.

“That what you wanted, hm? That feel good, princess?” Ghost said, coming to a stop as he filled you completely. “Tell me, how does that feel? I wanna know if anyone else has been able to make you as fuckin’ speechless as this.”

You whined out, scratching at the bed underneath you like a trapped animal and breathed in thickly, wondering if your lungs would ever recover from the events of the last few hours. Wondering how to answer Ghost. How did it feel? Did anyone else compare to him? What stupid fucking questions. 

Nothing compared.

“It feels so fucking good, feels like you’re gonna split me in half,” you gasped, rocking yourself against him. “Need you to move, need to feel you ruin me!”

“Oh yeah? You need me to move? What a slutty girl telling me such filthy things,” he growled, reaching around and grabbing your neck, not quite enough to choke but enough to let you know he was in control. “Tell me, slutty girl, who’s in charge?”

“You, sir!”

“Who gets to wreck this pussy?” he asked, slowly begining to fuck you, rocking himself slowly in and out of you at an agonising pace. 

“You, sir!”

“Are you my little whore?” He asked again, building up speed a little, catching you in all the right places and turning your head to mush.

“Yes sir,” you cried out, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the edge.

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

You screamed as he upped his pace out of no where and fucked you like it was his job. Your eyes lost focus and your teeth gnashed together and suddenly it was a fight to stay upright as he pounded in and out of you and held your neck tightly in his firm grasp. It wasn’t like anyone you’d been with before, this was a new level of fucking you’d never experienced.

“Fuck!” you cried out again. “Gonna- gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Good, cum for me. Clench on my cock, little slut.”

You moaned out and gripped the sheets underneath you tighter, feeling your whole body shaking as his cock forced you off balnce. Just a few more thrusts and-

It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a muffled scream as Ghost clamped his hand over your mouth and gasped wordlessly as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

He kept going like that, absolutely relentless, skewering you and turning you to mush below him, making you feel like dirt at his knees. You were nothing, you weren't any kind of princess, you were just his toy. And you fucking loved it. You loved that he could make you feel like that, but still make you feel so fucking precious as he continued to caress your skin and growl affirmations every now and then.

So fucking pretty.

Mine, princess, you’re mine. 

Feel so fucking good, you’re so fucking good.

You cried out as he put his hand around your throat again and put on some pressure, making you struggle a little to pull in air, but not by much. It felt exquisite. The tremors of your last orgasm were still bolting through you and now another one was building. You felt so good, felt so impossibly warm as you struggled beneath him. Fuck, you never wanted this to end. But you knew you could hardly take much more.

“You gonna cum for me again? Gonna give me another one before I finish? C’mon, I know you have another one in you, princess.”

You whined and felt your thighs shaking like they were going to collapse and suddenly his fingers closed tighter round the sides of your throat. You gasped loudly a couple times, trying to pant out that you were close, but the sound couldn’t quite form in your mouth. Then, in no time at all it was hitting you again, that high, that euphoria. Another orgasm. 

“Fuck!” Ghost growled out. 

You clenching around him had sent him over the edge and all too soon, you were both collapsing into the sheets like falling scaffolding. You clattered down against him and he pulled you close. He bucked his hips a couple times as he finished inside you, grunting a little with the increased sensitivity he felt as you shifted against him. It was divine.

You were both wrecked.

Neither of you said a word as you laid there, both keeping your eyes closed and your mouths open as you panted into the arid empty air. There was nothing to say. You just had to soak in the moment and retreat into each other's bodies, accepting the burning, unbearable heat you were both giving off and enveloping each other in it.

Fuck.

“Is that a better way of saying thank you, sir?” you finally moaned, grinning to yourself as you proved yourself right.

That was one way to teach you some respect alright.

[lxmelle]

Gojo Satoru Q&A thoughts.

So these leaked early on X/formerly Twitter, but some of the Japanese are sensitive to spoilers (it’s rather frowned upon) so I didn’t have anywhere to dump my thoughts but here 😅

Spoilers for the GIGA special Gojo Satoru book ahead. (Only a few I wanted to comment on - I’m sure someone would’ve posted all 33 questions and the answers already 😆)

Apparently Gojo looks like he is a cat person but he probably likes dogs. Gege uses a lot of vague/uncertain language here. (I guess he’s making it as if Gojo is a character of his own right and not that he, as the creator, knows everything about.)

My HC: to me it seems, like on the surface, he may appreciate an aloof character, but he probably likes someone loyal and won’t leave him.

Maybe that’s what he is like as well; he as a “dog personality” would be doggedly loyal to one person and, uh, he has a good nose too. Y’knowww… Good nose … for sniffing out the specific cursed energy of his friend Geto Suguru, lol. 😂

Honestly, I’d like to think that after this life, they both learned how to be more sensibly and healthily codependent for their next life / in the afterlife.

So: Don’t let Geto run away again Gojo… Geto isn’t the kind of person you can just leave alone. 🥺

And Geto, don’t leave Gojo behind again, he doesn’t think you’re replaceable, so don’t think you’re unwanted or that you need to save Gojo & leave on your own again.

Gojo was born special and was both feared and revered in equal measure. Separated from his parents from a young age he likely didn’t know of friendship and companionship or unconditional love until Geto came along. He didn’t interact with friends because of his status / background. He was brought on missions and his education was pretty strict. Because he was clever, it was probably dull pretty quickly.

He was likely treated like there was always a barrier around him and that he needed to be nurtured as a talent/resource/figurehead without much love as a human being.

Geto was probably one of the first people to see him as Gojo Satoru as well as who he was as a sorcerer. This was probably new to him, and he experienced / felt it enough to feel very attached to Geto. His ease was shown in his carefree, happy attitude and smiling expressions throughout HI.

Gojo probably got away with many things in his childhood as he tried to rebel and have fun. Didn’t have anyone he could stand head to head / toe to toe with until he met Geto.

Gojo was wealthy. Had a salary too. And, very likely didn’t know of loss or poverty. The former, until Geto left. The latter, never did. My HC is that it made it difficult for him to sympathise with strife / struggling to achieve something... seeing as he never knew what insecurity could feel like? It made things more challenging for him to develop empathy. Further, as a talented genius who grasped things easily, it’s true that Gege described him as a talent from birth and Geto was more of a talent through hard work. Gojo could not relate to others until he experienced suffering and loss himself. 😢

His only complex was probably being unable to stop Geto. For the first time he wanted something but he couldn’t have it. To be given everything but being able to do nothing. Realised people have pride and wills of their own and their lives ought to be respected.

After Geto left, Gojo became more aware of his responsibility for the next generation of sorcerers. This was thanks to the wound... I guess.

“To be given everything, but be unable to do anything.” comes to mind - this is in reference to his DE unlimited void. Doesn’t it encapsulate what Gojo was? He, on the surface, had everything... and yet, it also bound him. Trapped to be this person that fulfilled a role. The latest chapter with Yuji and Sukuna touches on that. Riko’s life paralleled this to some degree too - treated as special from birth to fulfil some purpose.

Gojo probably only ever really wanted one thing and it was his friendship with Geto, but he couldn’t have it. He could not save his best friend. He was supposed to be strong - but it wasn’t enough just to be strong. Alone.

It is no wonder he had a complex. He hung onto remnants of his best friend for years. I’ve read some Japanese twitter users lamenting on how it’s strange to change their first-person pronoun just because a friend mentioned it. Gojo became a teacher because of what happened. So it really cut him deep to have witnessed Geto leaving and him being so helpless.

That’s all I had to say. Sorry for the abrupt end. 🫡

[liesmyth]

Blood cancer, necromancy and physical ailments

This started as a reflection on the evergreen “but could John have healed Cytherea’s cancer?” and then it went off… somewhere else, namely necromancers being physically frail and what it means for the worldbuilding and thematically. Bear with me etc.

what do we know about the nature of Cytherea’s cancer?

Very little! We know it runs in the necromantic line of the Seventh, but we don’t actually know how house heirship is passed, so we don’t know if it only affects one / a few family lines or most of the House. Cytherea-as-Dulcie says that her family “wanted her to keep the genes going,” implying that the illness was rare outside her immediate family, but Dulcinea doesn’t seem to have been under the same pressure, from what little we know.

Another guess is that the Seventh hereditary cancer is tied to necromancy in some way, as it seems to only manifest in descendants who also exhibit necromantic attitude. If that’s the case, then it’s likely it is a strain of leukemia that manifested post-resurrection and didn’t exist before (like necromantic ability) and like necromancy, it can’t be studied properly – because the understanding of the illness barely evolved from Cytherea’s time to Dulcie.

[FOUR more bullet points under the cut]

why I don’t think John lied about not being able to heal Cytherea

A variety of reasons. The obvious one is that it would be pointless not to heal her, if he could. The Lyctors dismiss the theory that cancer makes a necromancer stronger (“Seventh House woo-woo,” cit. Augustine) and so does Palamedes, who studied it for years. I'm going to assume they're right. Then there are no benefits to John in keeping Cytherea ill, except watching her suffer, and this is deeply at odds with John’s entire shtick in which they’re all a happy family and he makes a point to personally serve everyone at dinner because he’s just some guy. John likes to think of himself as the good guy, even when he's being actively terrible, and there’s no way to spin ‘let someone live with cancer for millennia’ in a way that makes you look good to yourself.

Additionally: if he had lied, then it would have been with the knowledge that it would backfire horribly if it ever came out he had, and completely shatter for good the happy family act. Conversely, the Lyctors have had ten thousand years to consider their long list of grievances against John, and they all studied Cytherea's cancer to figure out how to help her when she joined them (per HtN) but don’t even seem to consider the possibility that John refused to help when he could have. Mercy, the ultimate anatomy savant, is so pissed off at John that she’s ready to kill him — I think if she had even vague suspicions it would have come out in that confrontation. The only reason it didn't, IMO, is because she knew how the illness worked better than we readers do and had reasons to confirm John's claims herself.

if John wasn’t able to heal Cytherea. Why? he’s God, etc

This is where I take a step back and look at the broader picture. Necromancers are frail. They are physically slight, have low endurance, and are physically weak. Judith is a decorated officer but she runs a 10 minutes km (a fast-paced walk) and Ianthe can barely hold up her arms to do her hair (probably an exaggeration by Corona, but not by much). These are also people who could kill someone at a distance with only moderate effort, but can’t turn that power inward to give their own bodies a boost. The same goes for the various reproductive issues we hear of in the series – Harrow’s parents, of course, but also Abigail and Magnus being unable to conceive even with all the resources of the Fifth.

It seems that necromancy can be turned against others – manipulating their bodies – with a lot more ease than it can be used to fix necromancers’ bodies, which have some level of ‘flawed by design’, probably related to the way their bodies process thanergy. There's no juicing up Judith’s lungs to make her run faster, and necromancy doesn’t make Abigail and Magnus's genes compatible for reproduction. IF the Seventh House cancer is tied to necromancy in some way, it seems plausible that it can’t be “suppressed” from the organism of a necromancer, because it’s just another facet of their abilities.

(That said, it all hinges on that big IF! My theory that it would make very little sense for John not to heal Cytherea if it was within his abilities IMO holds whether the cancer is tied to her power or not, but if it’s the second one then I can’t begin to guess why.)

the #THEME of it all

Look. I just think that “some things can't be fixed by necromancy if they are rooted in it” is pretty plausible as a worldbuilding detail (setting the limits of a magical system) and also it really resonates as a doylistic writing choice. Magic has a price, and so on. I just think it’s neat!

(And, again, I think it makes more sense as a framing for the characters’ actions, from how John likes to play the good guy to how Cytherea probably has some amount of control over the tumors in her body, post Lyctorhood, just as Lyctors have detailed control over every other cells in their organisms. There’s something about the way she decided to go on for millenia, “mostly cancer and a little bit woman” as a funeral monument to her lost humanity. I’m not eloquent enough to put it into words but I’m gonna link to these tags by @thewinterstale on this OP by @theriverbeyond. Big thoughts, big brains etc.)

IF cancer doesn’t make someone stronger, why do people think it does?

We know “thanergy boost at the moment of death” is a real thing. It is a leap that slowly dying for years = more power during your lifetime, but it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. What is odd is that we have multiple informed accounts that it doesn’t (Augustine, Palamedes) but the idea keeps being perpetuated.

(Ianthe seems to believe that it does, but fwiw this is not Ianthe’s area of study and I find it plausible that she’s just repeating something she has been told which, again, makes sense superficially)

Anyway. Cytherea knower @thewinterstale​ has suggested that maybe Cytherea herself is the reason why the Seventh House, to the present day, believes that cancer = power. She was incredibly talented despite the illness, so much that the Emperor summoned her specifically as the last disciple in his super-exclusive circle. And that was the last the Seventh House saw of her.

If the memory of Cytherea that lives on was that of an incredibly powerful necromancer, the miracle at Rhodes, cancer-ridden and so powerful… that’s enough fuel for a dangerous myth. Maybe, through the millennia, all the Seventh House hoped to achieve was to produce another Cytherea – suffering and all

[furiousgoldfish]

I have a question relating to osdd, about alters potentially merging or just switching.

I've had an alter split off a year ago, who was then in control of the body for 6 months, before we finally switched back to me, the host. I've been in control ever since. One of the issues I've ran into is not being able to access my anger, it seemed that the alter grabbed the angry part of me and ran off with it, so I've been struggling to feel or express any anger at all.

Lately I've been dealing with life very badly; I've been glued to bed, hopeless, depressed, fighting suicidal thoughts constantly. Then something triggered me that made me so mad I've been fuming for several days, wanting to murder everyone in sight (I was still motionless in bed, just having violent fantasies). Afterwards, I started feeling unexplainably happy, suddenly I could move again, I became unable to rest because sitting or lying down made me feel restless, like I should be doing something else. I didn't complain because there's tons of chores to do, but after a few days I noticed how bizarre this was, and that this 'chore-chasing happy behaviour' was typical for the split-off alter, and not me. So I started considering that maybe we switched. For a few days I've been trying to figure out which one am I, and I couldn't find the answer. I tried looking in the mirror to see if I recognize myself, and I can't tell for sure. I tried to see if I can have suicidal thoughts, and I can't, which is their usual attitude, but it's possible my protective alter is just blocking them. I then tried to see if I can make changes in the inner world, but again, I wasn't sure. It's all very confusing and my tests do not work. Split-off alter couldn't do relaxing activities, but right now I am able to relax. Split-off alter also had severely limited memories, but I can remember most things, or so it seems (it's impossible to tell if you don't remember something because... you don't remember it).

Based on this introspection, I started thinking that maybe we merged. Because if I was the split-off alter right now, I would feel the original host somewhere inside me, still being hopeless and suicidal, but I don't feel that, I can't see them in the inner world or talk to them, and the opposite is the same. If I am the original host, then I can't see or talk to the split-off alter, I can't find them anywhere.

I've been contemplating that we might have merged, very confused as what prompted it, maybe the rage trigger? I've seen some resources about how others feel when alters merge, and it seemed like a lot more harmonious event where the alters got along and had the same opinions and goals. For us this was never true, we were against each other all the way. But we did both want to merge back.

If we have merged, I am shocked at the result, because merging back is all I wanted, I wanted so badly to be a bit more whole again, to have anger at my disposal again, but this is NOT who I've been before. I guess it was naive of me to believe that if we merged back, I would be that person again. I am not similar to what I was, I don't even feel comfortable using the same name. I don't know if it's because of the anger triggering all this but I feel like anger is overpowering any and all of my senses.

Is there any way to tell for sure what happened? Some way to check that I haven't tried? Or maybe only time will tell and I will figure it out in a few weeks when this settles down?

[yacinthemorning]

A Nestcommunication

Summary: Tango wants to make his new soulmate comfortable in their new home. the problem is, Tango knows nothing about avians.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (romantic)

Warnings: Miscommunications

Despite knowing several, Tango didn’t know much about avians. Sure he knew the general things one might know, they have wings – duh – and they need to preen those wings. There was something about being protective of their feathers, which affected preening, at least he thinks so. They could sing like birds, or was it a language? Tango rarely heard it and the few times he had Grian seemed notably embarrassed as though it were involuntary. 

He knew the vagueries, was the point. About as much as anyone else knew about netherborn.

What he did know was that his new soulmate - his rancher – was an avian, and that there was nothing else in the world he wanted more right now than to make sure he was comfortable and taken care off. 

Tango had cost them their first life, had generally made a fool of himself really, and their neighbours were not making their lives any easier. Yet Jimmy still turned to him with trust and a smile. And what a smile. Like being hit with concentrated sunshine. Physically impossible to say no to- which he didn’t. Not when Jimmy asked him to build them a house and not when he pleaded to get a horn before they’d even sorted out their basic necessities. 

He certainly didn’t think twice about handing over his boots (Just iron, not gold. Not that his insistence stopped Impulse’s teasing and pointing out he was a weirdo anyways) when he found Jimmy with nothing. Nor when Jimmy – nervously plucking at the scales on his ankles - vaguely mentioned a tower would be nice and Tango immediately started collecting the resources.

Okay, so maybe Tango was already in a bit deep.

It was fine, probably. Maybe. He just wanted to make his rancher happy and comfortable, that’s completely normal. What would make him happy?

It hadn’t escaped Tango’s notice, the hesitance in Jimmy, whenever he did something avian. Like it was embarrassing, like he wanted to apologize. Not always was it very noticeable, but it was something he was beginning to pick up on after spending so much time together. It was strange. On hermitcraft they had so many hybrids and odd creatures, the attitude was quite simply that everyone else could deal with it. That was evidently not the environment Jimmy had been in. Or maybe it was because of his curse. All Tango knew was that his chirp was quite possibly the cutest thing ever to exist in all the realms, and it was heartbreaking to see Jimmy curl up in shame like he’d just reveal some deep dark secret any time one escaped. (Even if that, too, was one of the cutest sights Tango’d ever seen.)  

So, Tango decided he must make the ranch – their home – somewhere warm and safe, where Jimmy can be comfortable being himself.

Except Tango didn’t know much about avian.

What did he know?

Nests. Avians built nests. Not that he’d seen one. He knew Grian had one, because Scar and Mumbo mentioned it. Jimmy never built one, though. Not in the ranch. He’d thought that was what the tower was for, but despite all the time he spent up there it remained empty. It was probably what he was used to sleeping in, right? Certainly they had enough supplies now that their sleeping arrangements could use a bit of an upgrade anyways.

Armed with the loosest of knowledge, Tango got to work.

They had plenty of feathers for the cushions, just enough wool for the curtains and mats. He tried his best, and he thought he did a pretty good job all things considered.

“I have something for you.” Tango told Jimmy when he returned home. Nervous excitement vibrated through his tail.

Just the mention of a gift seemed to make him perk up. “Really?”

“Yeah, just inside. C’mon.”

Tango expected a lot of things. He expected that maybe Jimmy would look at it and not even recognize it was supposed to be a nest. He imagined Jimmy tearing it apart and rebuilding it. Or maybe he would politely thank Tango, because he was too nice to tell him it was all wrong.

What he didn’t expect was for Jimmy to set his eyes on it, and his face immediately bloom bright red as his wings puffed up behind him. “That…”

“Sip-surprise…” Tango made jazz hands. “I, uh, I made- well, tried – I tried to make-”

“A nest?” Jimmy’s voice was a squeak. His eyes darted between the nest and Tango so fast the blazeborn could hardly keep up.

“Yeah! Yeah, uh, I did my best. I know it’s not great but…”

Jimmy gulped, pointing towards it. “This is… our nest?” Tango was starting to feel his own face heat up in embarrassment. Did he mess up?

“I mean… If you want it to be. I mean it doesn’t have to be if you don’t-”

“No! No, that’s…  It’s lovely. This is just really… No one’s ever… I- I didn’t even know if you… Our nest, Gosh.” His hands clasped together as he took a deep breath in. A long trill came back out instead. “U-um. Uh, I’m sorry, could you give me a minute. I just- I-” With another trill he suddenly fled back out the door.

Tango stood in the ranch, listening to Jimmy run right into the barn. His tail jerked across the floor as he worried his lip. Was that a good reaction? He did say it was nice. Glancing between the nest and the door, he wasn’t sure what to do now.

In the end he busied himself and waited for Jimmy to get back. Hoping Jimmy would come back, really, because he still wasn’t sure he’d somehow screwed something up. More than once he considered taking it apart and perhaps just giving the supplies to Jimmy so he could build it himself.

He was along for another several hours, smelting copper, tending to the animals, eventually working on the wall. Anything to keep his mind preoccupied. The only interruption he received was a most curious whisper from Pearl of all people.

‘Look at you, mister speedy over there ;)’

Tango raised an eyebrow. He looked around until he spotted the avian woman waving at him from Cleo’s bridge. He gave an unsure wave back, for which he was rewarded with a thumbs up. Then Jimmy came barrelling out from Scott’s house and dragged her inside, holding his sister on his left like she was a shield. Tango turned attention back to the wall. Was he really working that quickly? Or was she teasing him for scaring off his soulmate already? It’s not like she had room to judge. Then again, at least she was at her soulmate’s house, while his was… well, also there. He glanced back up at the hideous little box and foot tower. Maybe he should try to spruce it up?

In the end he found himself doing his best to place down a few flowers out front.

That was where he still was when Jimmy finally returned. Tango almost didn’t notice, with how quiet he was being as he poked his head through the gate, then shuffled up the path. He had his hand clutched to his chest, refusing to look at Tango even as he approached.

“Well howdy there.” Tango tried to alleviate some of the tension. It didn’t seem to work.

“Hi…” Jimmy’s wings folded tight over his shoulders. “Could we. Sorry, could we go inside?” 

Tango was already pushing the door open. “Of course.”

Jimmy seemed to tense as he went through the entryway, eyes immediately landing back on the nest. His face turned red once again, but with an oddly determined glint in his eyes he marched over to it. Sitting down seemed much harder for him, taking several seconds just to breath, but eventually he was propped up on the edge. One hand ran along the pillows and sheets. Tango joined him a moment later.

“Sorry- sorry about earlier. I was just.” Jimmy sighed. “No one’s ever done that- built a nest for me.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe.” Admitted Tango, rubbing one of the thinner sheets between his fingers.

The avian’s ears couldn’t possibly turn darker as he curled in on himself. “I mean, I guess I thought I might make one with Scott, but that never really… happened… Anyways. So, I, um, I’m sorry for running off. It was just… sudden. Unexpected.”

“It’s fine! I probably should have asked first.”

Jimmy shook his head, tightening his fist. It was then that Tango realized there was something poking out of it, hidden within his grip. Slowly his hand unravelled. “Um, I was- I wanted to give you… this…”

In his hand was a feather. Not too long, but bright - almost glowing – and clearly groomed to perfection. At the end was a small piece of metal clutching the quill, with a second loop pointed out. Tango let it be placed in his palms, where he carefully cradled it in awe. “This is…”

Jimmy let out a chirp as his wings flexed, still not quite looking at Tango.

“Are you- Really? I can have this?” More so than even Grian Jimmy seemed terribly protective of his feathers, keeping all the ones that fell out or broke somewhere not even Tango was completely sure of. Though, last time he preened he seemed hesitantly okay with Tango watching.

“Yeah… yeah. If that’s okay. If you want it.” His eyes finally flicked to Tango, hopeful despite the way his shoulders and wings had both tensed. 

Tango swallowed, giving the avian a slow nod as he brought the feather close to his own chest. He hid it safely in his vest. “Thank you.”

When he looked back up Jimmy was close. Closer that Tango expected. The look in his eyes was almost too intense for Tango to bear as it ran across his face. They stared at one another, the silence dragging out while Tango’s heartbeat quickened. Finally, when he almost couldn’t take it any more, Jimmy let out a distressed chirp. His face dropped, burying into Tango’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just… A lot.” Jimmy said with a voice that was several octaves too high.

Unsure what to do, Tango recovered enough to give him a nervous chuckle and pat the avian on the back. “It’s okay. Today was… long. You wanna go to sleep for tonight?”

“Yes please.” Was muffled by Tango’s vest. His wings fluttered, fluffier than Tango even knew was possible.

Smiling down at the top of his rancher’s head, Tango moved to make room. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”

That night Jimmy clung to Tango. It wasn’t that odd, they’d always made a habit of cuddling in their tiny single bed, but he seemed particularly gleeful about it. In the morning he also seemed different. Peppier, openly singing a tune while he laid out breakfast. His wings fluttered happily behind him when he saw Tango get up, and again several times while they ate and talked. Tango mentally high fived himself. His birdy seemed far more comfortable, the hard work and nest were working.

Still, there was something… off. His face had seemingly taken on a permanent pink tinge. Tango thought he might be sick until he saw it fade as he went to chat with their neighbours. He almost seemed to dance around Tango after that, fumbling over his words more. Jimmy also seemed oddly determined to keep touching him, hugging him for the smallest reasons and bumping their shoulders together. It wasn’t bad, but it made Tango nervous anyways. Was what he did really worth this much attention? It felt like he was still barely making up for all the trouble he’d caused.

By the mid-afternoon Jimmy’d been forced to go off and find iron – one of them had to - and Tango ran off to try and trade Grian and Scar for their sugar cane. Instead he found himself sat down for tea, listening to Grian complain about Scar’s pandas for thirty minutes while Scar made excuses.

“So, how are you and Tim doing? He finally asked instead, clearly done with Scar’s backtalk.

“Good? I think?” Admitted the netherborn, placing a hand over the pocket where Jimmy’s feather was safely hidden in.

Grian raised an eyebrow. “You think? Everything okay?”

“He’s just been a bit off ever since I built the nest-”

“You built WHAT!” Grian’s head suddenly snapped, eyes wide. Behind him Scar whistled.

“Tango, you dog. Congratulations!” 

Tango pinned back his ears, nervously glancing between the two. “Uh, thanks?”

The shock on Grian’s face morphed into a glare. “You built a nest for Tim? Already? And you just go around telling everyone? Tango I thought you were better than that!”

“What?” Tango sputtered. “What’s wrong with that!”

Scar chuckled. “Not everyone’s as private as you, Grian.”

But Grian’s glare had given way to confusion, and then horror. “Wait, you built it? How do you know how to build a nest?”

“I-I mean I don’t really. I just sort of… winged it .” Tango whispered the last bit. “I just thought it’d be nice, you know? He’s my soulmate, I wanted the ranch to be comfortable for him.”

Silence fell over the table, even Scar’s face falling slightly while his besweatered companion dropped his face into his palms.

“ Oh gosh. he doesn’t know.”

Tango’s hair was beginning to flicker. “What? Is it- am I not allowed to? Is that an avian thing only?” Jimmy seemed more than fine with it, did it matter if it was?

“Tango.” Grian groaned. He leaned over the table, nearly knocking over his tea, so he could look the blazeborn straight in the eye. “Tango, think. Why do you think avians and birds build nests to begin with?”

“To… sleep?” He shrugged, hunching down into his chair like a scolded child.

Grian exploded. “To nest , Tango! To court a mate ! So that they can-“

“Wh- wait, hold up!” Tango squeaked as he fell back, shoving the hysterical avian out of his face. Scar stepped in, picking Grian up and pushing him back down into his seat against Grian’s own protest. Silence once again fell, this time a glare and apologetic smile baring down on Tango as the cogs in his brain began to turn. With each passing second his face darkened, until he had to bury his face into his hands. “Wait. So. When I-“

“ Yes .” Grian hissed.

“And so he thought-“

“So it seems.” Wisely nodded Scar.

A squeal like a cross between a steaming kettle and a balloon escaped Tango as it all clicked into place. “Oh no… Wait, so, then what-” He fumbled with himself for a second, eventually managing to open up the pocket of his vest and pull out the little feather.

Grian let out an unholy noise only a dying parrot could hope to make. “ WHAT!”

“Um, he gave it to me last night when he came home. I-is it- That’s probably another, um, important thing, isn’t it, then?” He tried to smile, but cringed further back as Grian let out another screech.

“I swear to the void Tango if you don’t go find Jimmy right this second and clear this up with him before he gets any more wrong ideas I’m going to shove a golden apple down your throat and end your game right here myself-”

“ What Grian means to say ,” Scar shouted over top of his soulmate. “Is that you should probably go find Tim sooner rather than later and have a bit of a talk.”

“Y-yeah…” Tango scrambled to his feet, still clutching the feather close to his chest. Grian didn’t seem to like that much either, but Tango was too much in a state of shock to worry about him anymore. He muttered a goodbye and started the dazed walk home, mind both running a mile a minute and also completely unable to retain a single thought. What on earth was he supposed to say in a situation like this?

He got home and sent Jimmy a message to come back before he could chicken out. Sooner rather than later. 

With his newfound enlightenment he couldn’t bring himself to linger on the nest he made for them. Instead he kept his attention on Jimmy’s feather, carefully twirling it between his fingers, examining it far closer than he’d gotten the chance to last night. 

It really was a beautiful feather, though Tango would argue all Jimmy’s feathers were gorgeous. It was clear though, that it had been carefully selected, lovingly preened, and the metalwork on the end was delicately shaped. Jimmy had let him know that morning that it was so he could choose how to wear it himself. How long of his time out yesterday was spent preparing the little gift?

Tango didn’t know he was smiling until the door creaked open and interrupted his thoughts. “Tango?” Called Jimmy, eyes darting around the room until they landed on the blazeborn sat at their dinner table. One of those blinding smiles stretched across his face, joined by a glow to his cheeks that Tango was starting to think he enjoyed just as much.

Then enjoy it while it lasts. You’re probably about to wipe it all away.

Void, he really couldn’t stop messing things up for his soulmate, could he?

“Hey, sunshine.” Tango croaked out as he stood up to meet his rancher. He got a whole armful as Jimmy wrapped him up in a big hug, as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. With a bit of hesitance Tango returned it, melting a bit at the soft chirp Jimmy made when he ran a hand along his back. Reluctantly they parted, and the hard part began. “Could we, um, sit down?” He tilted his head towards the nest he still couldn’t quite bring himself to look at.

Jimmy’s smile faltered, seemingly finally picking up on how tense Tango was. “Sure. Is… Everything okay?”

Tango nodded as he guided them to sit down. “Uh, I mean it’s not bad but... There’s just some things I wanted to talk about. About yesterday and… This.” He waved noncommittally towards the nest.

All at once his wings tensed in towards his body while he pulled his hands away from Tango. He resisted the urge to reach out for them. “Oh…”

“Yeah… Yeah, um-“

“I’m really sorry.” Jimmy stammered out, no wringing his hands. “I, um, I know I probably messed up the moment.”

Tango’s eyes widened, “Wh- no-“

“It was just a lot, you know? All at once. Gosh, yesterday morning I didn’t even know that you- I… I never thought there was any way you would feel the same way as me. It was overwhelming.”

“No- no, I get it. That’s not-” Tango let out a frustrated growl as e tried to calm his panicked heart. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, I should have asked you first before I made something like this. I wasn’t even…”

Jimmy quirked a smile. “I know you probably weren’t expecting to go very far right then and there. But I was too fried to even kiss you.”

“That’s not it, Jimmy. I didn’t know what I was doing when I built it, I didn’t mean it that way.”

The avian’s smile fell away, head shooting up to look at Tango. He could see Jimmy working through his words, could see as those thoughts began to go dark, and rushed to explain.

“I just- No, no, I do! I do like you! Maybe even- but I wanted to make you feel safe and happy, and I thought- well, I didn’t think, I guess. I don’t know much of anything about avians, but I wanted to make the ranch more of a home and I just made it cause I thought that’s what would help. Not that… I mean not to say I mind. Man, do I not mind . I just… I wouldn’t have wanted to just drop that on you without asking first and… You know, make you think I wanted to go from zero to a hundred out of nowhere.”

Tango ran his claws through his burning hair and sighed. “So, yeah, I’m just an idiot. I don’t know if that’s better or worse than what you must have thought of me. Probably worse, I’m sorry.”

Jimmy had gone quiet, staring into his own lap. At some point his wings had sagged out across the nest. Tango waited, trying desperately to calm his sparks while the silence dragged on. A hand rose up, holding itself out towards the blazeborn. It took him a moment before he realized it was intended for the feather he was still clutching in his one hand. Tango throat tightened up. He willed himself not to make a further fool of either of them, giving the feather one last press to his chest before relinquishing it to its rightful owner.

Jimmy brought it back down to his own lap, examining it for a second before his talons got to work smoothing out the barbs frayed by Tango’s rough grip. Once it was again pristine he finally raised his head up with a shaky breath. “Okay then.”

His whole body turned in towards Tango as much as it could, and pulled forward Tango’s far limb to turn him in as well. Jimmy’s gaze was fragile - eyes a bit too glossy and trying to keep the quiver out of his lip – but he kept it locked. “Tango.”

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked.

Jimmy took another deep breath, speaking a bit too fast. “I know we haven’t been soulmates for very long, and there’s still a lot we don’t know about each other, but I want to. You’re so sweet and kind to me. You don’t make jokes about me, you’re so encouraging, even when neither of us know what we’re doing, and you never let me feel alone in my stupidity. You’re so smart and even though we have barely anything you make it feel like we have everything in the world. I really like you.”

Tango swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I- I think I might love you.” Jimmy barely managed to squeak out. “Or… Or, at least, I could.No, I do. I think I do.”

He nodded, “I think- I think I love you, too, Jimmy.”

His rancher’s face lit up. “Okay… Well, Okay. Okay. Then, um…”

He held up the feather. The poor plume was shaking in his grasp. “Well, Mister Tango of the non-avian variety-”

“Hey!”

“- In avian culture we have this tradition.” Jimmy’s voice gave way to a laugh, instantly easing the tension. Tango dares to quirk a grin. The rest of his words seemed to come a bit easier. “Where if you care for someone and would like to court them, you give them the first feather.”

“The first?” Tango asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, the first feather. Avian’s wings are, um, I think Grian would call them sacred, but that seems like a rather scary term for it. They’re important, is the point. And so, so are the feathers. The only ones who can touch them are flock, and mates treat each other’s feathers like their own. So, this is the first shared feather, the first of hopefully many.”

Jimmy licked his lips, wings flitting for emphasis as he held the feather out. “So, uh… Would you- Could I please give you this feather? As part of that.”

Sucking in his breath, Tango hesitantly laid his hand over Jimmy’s. He grasped the feather, but did not take it right away. “Are you sure? That you want to give this to me, even after… All of everything?”

For the first time in what was likely only minutes but felt like centuries, that sunshine smile returned to Jimmy’s face as he nodded a bit too vigorously. “If you’ll still have it, you’re the only one I would want to give it to.”

And Tango took the feather. This time he didn’t wait, searching his inventory until he found string and tied the precious yellow plume around his neck. He stared at it for another second more before fully turning all his attention on the preening birdy in front of him. 

Asking permission with an outreached hand which was eagerly accepted, Tango pulled Jimmy in close. This time Jimmy happily- and eagerly – closed the last gap. It was a short kiss, hardly more than a peck, but one Tango didn’t know how much he’d been craving until he had it. It was punctuated b a small chirp that made Tango respond with a similar little noise before going in for another kiss. 

For a while they sat there holding each other, not saying much of anything, enjoying the relief while the adrenaline of two days of too much washed out of them. Only when their eyes began to droop did Tango interrupt. “Uh, I should… I guess maybe I should clean this up?” He said, nodding towards the nest.

Jimmy gave it a once over, then shrugged and pulled Tango closer before flopping both down onto the sheets. He smiled. “It’s fine, it’s better than that tiny little thing we had before, and you worked so hard on it.” His smile turned a bit cheeky, a bit shy. “Besides, um, Well, one day it might be more fitting, I hope.”

Tango smirked back. “Grian is going to have a fit if he comes over and sees it.”

“Sounds like more than a good enough reason to keep it, then.”

“You’re not the one he’s going to clobber!”

“I don’t think he has much choice given his own game mechanic.”

Soft chuckles quickly faded as both men began to doze away. Tango pulled Jimmy closer, burying his nose in his rancher’s shoulder. Tomorrow, he decided, he would ask more about avians, and maybe explain some nether things as well. He could already feel the itch in his hand to make. For now, he just let himself dream about all the things they would share.

[gin-juice-tonic]

convinced that you were somehow secretly alive in the 60s/70s. what sort of secret historical resources and/or time machines are you using to expand your knowledge of decades past

Ha ha, I dont feel I do a particularly great job, but I always find myself getting into googling sprees when I just wanted to post about something simple. I'm always checking if x thing was invented yet, or popularized yet, and I end up learning a lot of new things... So I would say the best way to expand your knowledge is to ask a question about One thing, and let the research take you around in circles to answers you didnt ask for.

I talked more under here but it got long. Im putting it under a read more and bolding key words like an ace attorney game.

As for specific resources I've looked at... hm... I've gone through a lot of the old sears catalogs. There's websites out there that have ones dating all the way back from 1940 to 2017. That can give you ideas about (some) styles of clothes and furniture popular at the time. There's also websites dedicated to explaining certain decades of american fashion. Sometimes I read old popular science magazines, mainly because google books has every single one of them archived and available to read for free...

Youtube has a lot of videos of old advertisements, those are good ways to both get into some pop culture and see societal attitudes. I've watched a lot of infomercials and employee training videos for stan in particular lol. If you have specific places you want to know about you can search for videos of them. Tourism videos work well if its a famous area, if not some people upload their home movies onto youtube as well.

If you really want to, you can read books (or skim books) that were written, or had been popular to read around the time. Or advice/guide books for specific occupations. Biographies of people of different ages are great as well to learn about what life was like more in a daily way...

This is long, so I'm just going to list some things now. Blogs dedicated to histories of certain things (music, sports, gay history, 5 string banjos, columbo, whatever!), TV shows and Movies from the time period you were interested in, old comics, redditors who want to post old photos of their favorite old hangouts, and lastly, you could also just talk to older people. I've bothered my parents asking about disco, I've bothered asking my grandma about pads in the 1950s. Most people like to reminisce or complain about things from their youth lol...

oh. And I almost forgot. I've used Cassell's Dictionary of Slang a few times. Usually just to check if a phrase that I want to use existed yet. But then in the course of my search I end up finding something I think is funny

[rickytickychow]

I don't even have words for Apology Tour, it was such a great follow-up (types so many words)

idk if Stolas understands how Out Of Nowhere this whole crystal thing was for Blitz. Like sure, it had been a few months, but Blitz was truly expecting a "same as always" kind of affair, misread Stolas's advances and got shut down and shut out the MINUTE he made that mistake. Stolas's little "thank you" speech was visibly genuinely confusing and horrifying to Blitz.

And then (AS BLITZ EXPECTED!!) the prince who supposedly loves him soooooo much walks away after ONE MISTAKE.

Also Stolas, annoyingly enough for Blitz, will never understand why Blitz feels looked down on and mistrusting until he acknowledges his objective place in hell's society. Stolas has never felt like he looks down on or demeans Blitz because he truly put the guy on a pedestal for so long. Now he's assuming that because Blitz didn't respond to his love confession mutually, Blitz didn't actually mean any of it. Bc God forbid your grand romantic gesture out of nowhere doesn't make the other person sweep you into their arms.

The amount of exes at Blitz's party shows how little patience he truly has for relationships despite trying to connect to others, but it's also showing us how much contempt and impatience people really do show him. Objectively, Blitz knows he's a difficult person. He doesn't know how to navigate his OWN feelings, much less someone else's. It's soooo funny to me how he does indeed end up at the "I hate Blitzø" party.

ALSO????

"I don't think you meant to hurt me, cuz I don't think it meant a thing at all"????? STOLAS DID YOU SEE ALL THE BULLSHIT HE DID FOR YOU I THINK IT MEANT SOMETHING TO HIM IDK

Blitz is not someone who does things he doesn't want to. He may have been hasty agreeing to the full moon deal, but he VERY CLEARLY enjoyed it and didn't want it to just... End.

And the Striker thing was also a low blow on Stolas's part. Moxxie and Millie saved his ass, taking BLITZ'S van after he already explained that Loona had an appointment that COULD NOT be missed. I can't imagine Blitz enjoys being in any given hospital longer than he has to. But despite the audience knowing what affects these things, Stolas does not.

This is kinda disjointed but while I feel bad for them both idk. I feel worse for Blitz bc Stolas has every opportunity to get better once he heals his emotional pain. Every Single one. He's still dealing with the divorce and moving sure, but he's a prince with magic, resources, and as Blitz pointed out, a nearly immortal body.

Blitz has all this inner turmoil and... None of that security. He has more to lose by letting people in. He's had to claw, fight, and drag himself for everything he currently has. It's hard for him to apologize because honestly? None of his actions are excused by this fact whatsoever, but he's owed a lot of apologies from people over the years, too. When he says "they're for pussies and no one deserves them anyway," I don't think he's just bitter about giving them. I think he's bitter about the idea of receiving them. Wanting someone to apologize means admitting they can hurt you. Blitz is well aware he can and has hurt others, but loath to admit when he is hurt.

For all his talk about not thinking Stolas can get hurt, Blitz is the one who actually acts like he's infallible - that makes others expect more from Blitz, but he will take them being angry at him over being perceived as weak or pitiable.

Stolas lovvvvves being weak and pitiable because he was expected to grow up quick, and the tragedy of that doesn't excuse his part here either. Anyone can agree that his attitude toward Blitz has taken a complete 180, with no visible effort to see things from Blitz's perspective. Sure, Blitz has been an angry asshole about it, but people seem to think that not showing anger makes whatever shitty behavior they choose automatically better. It doesn't.

I can't wait to see more about Blitz and Verosika too. It was really eye-opening for both Blitz and the audience to see that side of her. There's probably more to their breakup than her saying "I love you," but that being the catalyst for Blitz up and leaving is the WORST. That had to hurt, and even if he just felt unworthy/unable to say it back right away, Blitz should feel bad about just running away.

Since he plays things so close to his chest and acts aggressive, it's easy for everyone around Blitz to overlook any selfless actions and label him as angry and selfish. It's pretty heartbreaking how his relationship to the world and his trauma responses make him lean into the idea that he's a terrible person.

TLDR GREAT EPISODE WHOA these emotional disasters warm my heart (with rage ❤️). Welcome back Verosika lmao

[anglophiletraveler]

In My Life

Chapter 37

Pressure

Written by Billy Joel

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

Poor Ross.  The guy is getting pulled into a couple of different directions, when all he wants to do is keep everyone happy and marry the love of his life!  A big thanks to Karen Bockius for supporting me, and also to my friend Chelsea who works in a human resources department and advised me on how the situation with Jenny should go.  Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted a new chapter.  I’ll try to keep writing faster.  Enjoy!

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

The work week started back up again for Ross and Demelza, and the normal business of their lives got even busier with starting to plan their wedding.  The phone calls and emails from Caroline definitely amped up ten-fold.  Ross made sure that she was including him on the emails not because he was really into planning the wedding, but because he didn’t want her overwhelming Demelza.  He wasn’t afraid to drop a hint to Caroline that something wasn’t cool.  Demelza had decided on having Ross come along for the wedding dress appointment, much to Caroline’s chagrin.  And to make things even, Ross decided to have Dwight go along as well, which Dwight wasn’t exactly happy about, but he said he would go for his best mate.   

Things at work with Jenny had gotten somewhat better, or so Ross thought.  Jenny had calmed down her attitude toward Demelza, so that made Ross happy.  He thought a lot about Jenny and her family back in Cornwell and didn’t want to upset anyone.  Ross was feeling more comfortable in his position as director of the charity division.  He really enjoyed the feeling of helping people and making a small difference in their lives.  It was a much better fit for him.  

Ross and Jenny were just finishing up a meeting in his office, when he mentioned to Jenny to make sure that his calendar stayed clear for Thursday morning.  

“Sure, I can make sure I do that.  Do you have a meeting or something that you need my help with in getting ready for?”

“No, I’m just taking a few hours off to go wedding dress shopping with Demelza,” Ross just threw it out there like it wasn’t a big deal, and it really wasn’t to him.

“Wait, you’re what!?” Jenny’s voice raised a little bit.

Ross was still looking down at some papers on his desk and smiled and without looking at her, “I’m going wedding dress shopping with Demelza.  She asked me to go along, so I’m going with her.”  He sat up and looked at Jenny.  “What?”

“Wellll, it’s just the groom usually doesn’t go with the bride to shop for her wedding dress.  Because you know, it’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

“Jenny, it’s okay I’m not going to see the actual dress she picks, if she even picks one that day.  I’m just going to support her.  She asked me to go, so I’m going.  Sorry if that bothers you.”  Ross didn’t like where this was going, but maybe it’s a reaction from others that he will have to get used to.  He realised that it isn’t something that the grooms don’t usually do, but on the other hand, people don’t know about Demelza’s scars that she’s sensitive about and he’s not about to justify himself to anyone.  

“So does this mean that you’ve picked a date?” Inquisitive minds want to know.

Ross sighed, “Yes, Jenny we have.  June 3.  Is that alright with you?”  Ross watched for the next reaction because he had an idea of what was next.

“June 3!  That’s soon!  Wow, not a very long time to plan a wedding.”

Ross smiled to himself, “Yes, but it will be fine.  We want the wedding before my mother has her surgery.  And it’s not like we’re going to be planning a royal wedding.  It’s going to be small and personal.”

Jenny gave a small smile, “That sounds lovely.  Do you have a wedding planner?”

“Nah, we don’t need one.  Caroline is going to help us out.  The wedding and reception will be at her uncle’s home in Cornwall.  It’s all good.  Very low stress.”

“Oh.  I’m surprised you’re not getting married at Nampara.”  

Ross looked up at the ceiling, sighed and took a beat. “Jenny, that's way too much stress for my mum right now.  We’re going to have some pictures taken there, and then the rest will be at Killewarren  with family and close friends.  Now why don’t you go work on the agenda for the Lawson meeting for me, yeah?”

“Sure, Ross.”  Jenny knew she was being politely dismissed, so she tucked her tail and left his office.  She laid her things on her desk calmly and headed for the restroom to get herself together.  She locked herself in a stall and started crying.  She didn’t understand what was happening!  She and Ross used to be so close.  He had never had a cross word for her before, was always so encouraging and kind and nice.  The only thing that’s changed is Demelza.  Ever since Demelza has come into his life, he’s been a completely different person!  She’s changed him!  And now he acts like an idiot!  It’s all her fault!  She couldn’t believe that he was going with her to shop for wedding dresses!  Is she so insecure that she can’t pick out a fucking wedding dress without him!  She’s glued to his hip!  This isn’t her Ross!  She’s changed him.  It’s all her fault.  She couldn’t stop crying, and it sounded like she was mumbling to someone.

What Jenny didn’t know was that there was someone a couple stalls down from her.  It was Sharon, an assistant to one of the vice-presidents.  She left the stall quietly and washed her hands.  When Jenny heard someone else she was mortified.  Oh shit!  What did I say?  Did someone hear me?

“Hello?  Do you need some help?  Can I call someone for you?” Sharon didn’t know who it was crying in the stall but it was very obvious that they were distressed.

Jenny tried to stop crying, and calm herself down, “Um no, I’m okay.”  She stepped out of the stall, and saw Sharon standing there and gave her a small smile.  “Thanks, but I’m okay.  I just, um, need to calm myself down.  I got some bad news today.  But thank you.  I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?  I’d be willing to call someone for you.  Don’t you work for Ross Poldark?  Would you like me to get him for you?” Sharon replied.

Jenny gasped, “Oh no, please don’t.  I’m just going to splash some cold water on my face and I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.  Well, let me know if there’s anything I can help you with,” Sharon gave her a tight smile and left the restroom.

Jenny finally was able to get herself together, got a fresh cup of coffee and went back to her desk.  She was hoping that Ross hadn’t noticed how long she had been gone.  

Ross had noticed that she’d been gone awhile, but he didn’t want to say anything more to upset her.  She seemed to be alright after she came back so maybe she just needed a breath of air and hopefully the rest of the day will go better.

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

At Trenwith, Francis and Elizabeth were having drinks before dinner, chit chatting about nothing in particular.  Charles came into the room and poured a drink for himself and sat down.  

“How has your day been father?  Anything interesting happen?” Francis asked his father.

“Oh no, one day is about the same as the next anymore.  I think I may go into the office tomorrow and see how you are running things,” Charles scoffed.

Francis looked at Elizabeth, “Well, there’s no need for that father.  Everything is smooth sailing like always.  Have you spoken with Verity lately?”

Charles grumbled, “Verity? Why would I hear from her? She’s still shacking up with that boyfriend of hers.” 

“Charles, I’ve heard that he’s not as bad as you think.  Maybe you should meet him for Verity’s sake,” Elizabeth was trying to steer the conversation from business because she had a feeling that Francis wasn’t taking very good care of it.

“Bullocks!  Oh, I just remembered something interesting did happen today.  I ran into my brother at the pub earlier.  He was picking up some fish and chips for Grace.  Anyway, it seems that Ross and his new girlfriend have set a wedding date.  I think he said it’s June 3.”  Elizabeth choked on her drink at the news of Ross and Demelza’s wedding date.

Francis saw his wife choking on her drink, “Darling are you alright? Do you need a glass of water?”

Elizabeth’s eyelashes were fluttering trying to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks, “Erm, no thank you, my drink just went down the wrong pipe.  Charles, are you sure their wedding is this June 3?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, yes, this June 3.  They want to have the wedding before Grace’s surgery, poor thing.  I offered to have the wedding here, but Joshua said that it’s already been planned to have it at Killewarren so that Grace doesn’t have the upset and worry of having the wedding at Nampara.  I told him they should have the wedding on a family estate, but apparently the girl has connections with Ray Penvenan’s niece, so it’s all set.  But I guess they’re going to have some pictures taken at Nampara.  Where’s Mrs Tabb?  Our meal should be ready by now!”

“Elizabeth you’re awfully pale, do you need to have a lie down?”

“Francis stop, I don’t need you fawning over me.  I can’t believe they’re getting married so quickly.  Ross doesn’t know what he’s doing by getting involved with that woman.”

Francis looked puzzled, “I don’t understand?  She seems like a lovely person the few times that I’ve talked with her.  And I can certainly understand that they’d want to get married before Aunt Grace’s surgery.  Makes perfect sense to me…”

Elizabeth stood up in huff, “Oh Francis just shut up.  You don’t know anything about her.  I’m going to see what’s happening with supper.”

Charles looked over his glasses and watched as Elizabeth left the room in a hurry and then looked at Francis, “Seems to me boy, that your wife still has feelings for Ross.  You better be reining her in, or you’re going to lose her.  If Ross wanted her, it wouldn’t take much for him to steal her from you.”

Francis’s face flushed as his father reprimanded him.

“Mark my words, boy!  Mark my words!”

Francis gulped his whiskey down and left the room.

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

The next day at work, Jenny had definitely seemed off again to Ross.  He was concerned about her for more than one reason.  Her family had been lifelong friends of the Poldarks, he had brought her onboard here with a job because he knew her family needed money.  And she has always been a good worker, very conscientious of her work, typical of a Cornish family.  But she almost seemed depressed, and not happy with her job anymore.  This was a new situation for Ross and he really didn’t know what to do.  He decided to go to Richard Tonkin and ask for his advice.  His family was also from Cornwall and had known the Martin family as well, so maybe he had some insight.

Tonkin’s door was open, but Ross knocked a few times on it anyway.  “Ross!  Good to see you mate, come on in and close the door.”  When Ross walked in he noticed Richard’s secretary Sharon sitting in the office as well.  The slight confusion must have shown on Ross’s face, “Have a seat Ross.  I’ve asked Sharon to come in on this conversation as well.  It’s always good to have a third person in the room when discussing issues such as this.”

“So,” Tonkin started, “you’re beginning to have issues with Jenny.  Is her work no longer satisfactory?”

“No, nothing like that.  It’s feeling personal.  We used to be great friends.  Well, you know the Martins from Cornwall.”

“Yes, I do.  Lovely family.”

“Exactly.  So when Jenny’s family needed some more income brought into the family, I had given her a trial period for two months to see how she would do, and she turned out to be quite excellent in her job.  She’s very good with the computer programs that we run on, she’s full of good ideas ever since we moved to the Charity Department.  But personally she’s become almost confrontational with me when it comes to my personal life, and she’s never done that before.”

Richard looked at Sharon and nodded to her to let Ross know how she had found Jenny in the restroom the day before.  “She was an absolute mess, Ross.  I offered to call you or anyone else for her but she was adamant that she was fine and she didn’t need anyone.  She had been talking with herself in the stall before I spoke with her.  I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, it was a lot of mumbling.  Has something happened between the two of you?”

“Yes, and that’s exactly the scenario that I’ve been worried about.  We’d had a decent day working together and we were working on a new client.  Then I told her that I needed her to make sure that she didn’t schedule any appointments for me on Thursday morning because I was going with Demelza wedding dress shopping.  It was as if she were Linda Blair in the Exorcist and her head was spinning around!  She started going on and on about how I shouldn't go wedding dress shopping, and that it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.”

Sharon spoke up, “Well some people always have to give their two pence when it comes to weddings and babies.  But still, it’s really none of her business as your assistant.  Have you shared such details of your life with her before?”

“Well, yes.  Back in Cornwall our families are very close.  She knows about my brother Claude Anthony’s death, she knows about my mother’s cancer diagnosis.  And she’s known about Demelza since we began dating.  I don’t give her a lot of personal details about our relationship.  It never seemed to bother her until the last couple of months.  She started speaking ill of Demelza, like she was always blaming Demelza if I had to stay up late to pick her up from the music hall.  Demelza doesn’t drive and I don’t want her riding the tube that late at night by herself, so I usually stay up to pick her up.  I have had to remind her at one point that my relationship with Demelza isn’t any of her concern.  I hated to do that, but she kept pushing and pushing against Demelza so I was stern with her when I told her that my relationship with Demelza isn’t any of her business.  Then yesterday with the wedding dress shopping…  I’m at a loss, Richard.”

“Yes, I see that.  Well, make sure you keep your office door open whenever the two of you are working together in your office.  And whenever she’s not in the office, keep your door closed.  Sharon, can you think of anything else.”

“Well Ross, it’s obvious that she has a thing for you, almost like an obsession.  Has there been any sexual contact between the two of you?  We don’t want her to go over the deep end and start yelling sexual assault.”

“Absolutely not.  And I don’t want her to lose her job.  She’s a very good assistant.  Can she just be moved to a different division?”

Tonkin let out a sigh, “I don’t know.  I think we need to bring in HR on this and get their take on things.  They are better trained at this type of thing than we are.  Sharon, can you see if they have anybody free to come up here for just a few minutes.”

“Sure, I’ll go to my desk and call them.  I’ll be right back.”

“This is dangerous business Ross.  We don’t want you to be accused of something that you didn’t do, and we don’t want Jenny to freak out over a move to a different department,” Tonkin said.

“I know.  I’ve been hoping that it would just blow over, but it hasn’t.”

“Her family are so nice, really good people…”

Sharon came back in the room and closed the door, “They’re going to send someone up.  They should be here shortly.”

Ross sighed, “Thank you Sharon.”

“No problem.  So you’re going all modern groom and going wedding dress shopping?  Nobody can accuse you of being a caveman,” Sharon said.

Ross chuckled, “Well, it’s not something that I’m thrilled with, but her mother died long ago, and she’s been estranged from most of her family.  She’s concerned about what the back of the dress will reveal.  She has scars on her back from when her father used to beat her.  So she asked me if I would come along.  I couldn’t say no to that.”

Richard leaned forward in his chair, “That’s horrible.  What father would beat his children!”

“Tom Carne would.  When Demelza got accepted to uni she left home and hasn’t been back since.  I keep telling her that for the most part her scars have faded, but I understand where she’s coming from.”

Richard nodded his head in agreement, “Yes, my friend, you would understand.  Tom Carne…that name sounds familiar.  Is he from Sawle?”

“Illugan.  We think he’s still alive because he’s contacted one of Demelza’s brothers for money.  Hopefully, he never finds out where we are…”

There was a knock on  the door.  Sharon got up and answered the door.  It was James Ellis from the Human Resources department.  

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

James Ellis was a well respected member of the human resources department.  He had worked at the firm almost from the beginning of its inception, and was known to be a fair and decent man whenever it came to awkward or sticky situations.  He was taking plenty of notes, handwritten in a yellow tablet while Ross and Richard spoke describing the situation, and their past history with Jenny and her family.

“So what do you think James?  Have any idea of how Ross should proceed?” Richard asked.

James took a sip of his tea and sat back in his chair.  “Well, there are a few different avenues that could be taken, depending on how far you want to take this.”

Ross was listening intently, brows furrowed, “Avenues… what kind of avenues?”

“Well, one direction we could take would be a written warning of her behaviour.  She could then either keep working for you, Ross, in hopes that things get better, or we could give her the written warning and transfer her to a different department. Either way, she needs to know that although her job performance itself has been exemplary and well regarded, her present behaviour towards you is unacceptable and will not be tolerated.  Normally, an employee isn’t allowed to transfer to another department if they’ve had a written warning, but we’d make an exception for something like this, since the warning isn’t for job performance.   And then there’s the last option that we could take, immediate dismissal.”

Ross gasped and shook his head no, “No, I don’t want her to be dismissed. Is there any type of counselling that the firm could offer her?”

“You mean psychological counselling?  Mmm that could be offered as well for possibly a ten week period.”

Sharon spoke up, “Ross, do you really think she would want to keep working for you after she’s received a written warning?  She might be too upset or maybe even embarrassed to keep facing you on a daily basis.”

Ross was slowly nodding his head, “I..I don’t know Sharon.  Maybe not. Bullocks I hate this!  I really, really hate this.”

James closed his notebook, “Well, think on it, but don’t take too long.  The last thing you want is for this to blow up in your face, although now that you’ve spoken with us, you do have that on your side.  But make sure that if you decide to have a conversation with her about this, that you have someone from HR in the room.  Make sure you always leave your door open when she’s in your office working with you, and when she’s not working with you, keep your office door closed.” James gathered his things into his briefcase and stood up, “Let me know what you decide.”

Ross stood up and shook hands with James, “I will.  Thank you for your advice.”

“No problem.  That’s what I’m here for.  Sharon, Richard, it was good to see you both again.”  Sharon and Richard both stood up to shake hands with him.

“Thanks again, James.  Sharon can you show James out,” Richard asked.

“Certainly. After you James,” Sharon led James out of the office and down the hall to the elevator.  

Richard closed the office door and turned to look at Ross, “Well Ross, you have a lot to think about.  Do you have any idea of what direction you want to take?”

Ross sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, “I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to a decision like this.  I guess the best choice would be to have her move to another department.”

“With a written warning, don’t forget,” Richard said.

Ross shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head, “Christ, with a written warning.  It’s madness Richard!”  Ross took a look at his watch, “Bloody hell, look at the time, I better get back to my office.  Thank you for your help in this matter, Richard.   I know I’ve been a bit of a git about this, but it’s only because I care about Jenny a great deal, she’s like family to me.”

“Well, unfortunately she doesn’t think of you in that way.  Maybe this will help her Ross.  You know, wake her up to what she’s been doing so that she can move on.”

Ross raised his eyebrows, “That is another way to look at it. Alright, well I shall keep you informed.  Thanks again.”  The two men shook hands and Ross left to go back to his office.  He was hoping that Jenny was not at her desk when he got back because he didn’t know what to say to her if she asked where he’d been.  She always knew about his meetings, almost before he did.  He really didn’t want to deal with an awkward situation at the present moment.

Ross was almost to his office and could see that Jenny was at her desk, so he braced himself for her barrage of questions.  

She spotted him and smiled and stood up to stop him before he was at his office door, “Oh Ross, I hope you don’t mind.  I wasn’t sure where you were but I didn’t think you’d be long.”

Ross furrowed his brow, “Jenny, what are you going on about?”

“Your friend, Dr. Enys came to see you, so I let him sit in your office until you returned.”

“Oh, is he still in there?”

“Yes.  I offered him something to drink but he said he didn’t want anything.  Do you want some coffee or tea?”

Ross’s head was spinning from his previous meeting and this encounter with Jenny.  “Um yeah, get us both some coffee.  He takes his like I do mine.”

“But he said he…”

“It’s fine Jenny, just get it please.  He’ll drink it.  Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Ross took a deep breath after she left and then walked into his office and greeted his best man, “Dwight!  I hope you weren’t waiting long.  I was at a meeting.”

Dwight was smiling just like he always does, “Yeah, that’s what Jenny figured.  She wasn’t sure exactly where you were.  You look like shit, mate.  What’s wrong?”

Ross rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Well, gee thanks, I’m glad to see you.  What can I do for my favourite best man?”

“I’m your only best man….”

Jenny walked in with the two coffees.

Dwight looked up at Jenny and smiled, “Thank you Jenny.  I hope this wanker doesn’t keep you running for coffee too often.”

Jenny smiled, “Oh no Dr. Enys, not at all.  Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Ross looked at his watch again and it dawned on him it was getting close to the end of the day, “No thank you Jenny, in fact, why don’t you just take the rest of the day off.  This day has been a wash as far as I’m concerned.”

Jenny looked confused, “Are you sure?  It’s just now 3:00.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.  Have a good evening.  Just close the door as you leave, please.”

Jenny smiled and pulled the door shut behind her.

Ross sat down and took a drink of his coffee, “Wish that I had something stronger I could put in there.”

Dwight frowned at his friend, “I had already told her that I didn’t need anything to drink.  What’s wrong with you?  You didn’t answer me before.”

“Hmmm, I asked her to get you a cup as well.  If you don’t want it you don’t have to drink it.  There is some stuff that I have to deal with …”  He looked out his door to make sure Jenny had left for the day, “with Jenny.  I’m probably going to have her transferred to a different department.  She’s been acting really strange since Demelza and I got serious.  She’s always saying bad things about Demelza and questioning the things I do for her.  It’s like she has a crush on me and doesn’t want Demelza in my life.  It’s gotten worse since we got engaged.”

“Wow.  I had no idea.  She’s always been so nice hasn’t she?  And she’s from Cornwall.”

“Yes and yes.  Which is why I have put up with it for so long.  I’ve even told her that what goes on with Demelza and I, isn’t any of her concern.  So, today, I finally went to Richard Tonkin about the situation, you know him don’t you?” Dwight nodded, “And he brought in HR and we went over the situation.  Best case scenario is we give her a written warning and transfer her to a different department.”

Dwight took a drink of his coffee, “Wow, no wonder you look like shit.  So obviously you haven’t talked to her yet?”

“No, I was just coming back from that meeting when I found you here, which I am eternally grateful for, because I’m knackered and I just didn’t want to deal with an awkward situation right now.  So thank you for being here when I needed you!” Ross gave a weak smile to his friend.  

Dwight smiled back, “Well, I’m glad that I could be of some help.  My main reason for coming here was to talk with you about the wedding dress excursion that you’re going on.  Caroline is a little upset about it.  She thinks that you’re going because you don’t trust her.  I told her that I was sure that wasn’t the reason but she didn’t believe me.”

Ross looked up at the ceiling and huffed, “I feel like I have been doing nothing but explain this decision to everyone around me!  Grrrrrrrr it’s so infuriating!  I know that it’s not normal, I know that it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress, yes, I am sure that I want to go with Demelza to the wedding dress shop.”

Dwight raised his hands up to stop Ross from more rambling, “Okay!  Take a beat mate!  What is going on with you?”

“Look, I’m sorry but this wedding dress has to be perfect for Demelza.  She has concerns about the dress and how it will look in the back.  I don’t know whether I’ve told you this or not, but Demelza still has scars on her back from when her father beat her while she was growing up, and she doesn’t want them to show on her wedding day.  So she asked that I come along to make sure that the scars don’t show.  Her decision.  And it has nothing to do with Caroline. I was hoping that you were still going for support.”

Dwight shook his head in agreement, “Yes, I’m still planning on going.  Well after what you’ve said, I can understand Demelza asking for you to be there.  I had forgotten about the scars.  But don’t forget how long these two women have known each other, far longer than we’ve known them, and they’re very close.  So I don’t think it would be good for you to push Caroline away from Demelza.”

“Bloody fucking hell Dwight, that’s not what I said!  Please don’t make this out to be more than what it is. The last thing I’m trying to do is tear apart their friendship, I would never do that.  They’re like sisters, much like you and I are brothers.  But I also don’t want this to turn into Caroline’s wedding instead of Demelza’s if you catch my drift.”  Ross was not in the mood for all of this Spanish inquisition.  He was trying to keep his temper from flaring up anymore than what it was.  

“Caroline does have a habit of getting over excited about things, so I can understand your concern on that score.  Well, I’ll explain the situation with the scars to Caroline, and I’m sure that she’ll understand.  You look exhausted, why don’t you take your own advice and go home.  I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the pub, but watching you fall asleep on the table won’t be any fun.  So walk me out?”

“I’m sorry for being pissy.  I’ve always heard that planning weddings can be stressful, but jayzus it’s only been a few days.  Let me close everything up in here and I’ll walk out with you,” Ross checked his diary to make sure that he didn’t have anything else going on the rest of the day before he left early.  He couldn’t wait to get out of the office.  

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

An exhausted Ross shuffled through the back door at home, practically ripping his tie off. 

Demelza came down the stairway surprised to see Ross home so early, “Ross! I wasn’t expecting you home so early.  Is everything alright?  You look…”

“Terrible.  Yes, I know, I was told that earlier.  So, it’s still early, I’m going to take a shower before I have to take you to the music hall, yeah?”  He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

“Don’t worry about it Ross, I have tonight off, remember?”

Ross’s head dropped back, “Oh thank God!  Look, it’s been a fucking awful day, and I’ll tell you all about it after I get a shower, alright?”

Demelza walked over and took him in her arms.  “Sure.  Are you hungry for anything in particular for supper tonight?”

“Mmmmm I don’t really care.  Whatever goes good with beer!”  

They both laughed at that.  Demelza reached up for a kiss, “Well, how about I just order us a pizza so that we don’t waste any of this precious extra time that we have together tonight cooking in the kitchen.”

“That sounds perfect.  Bloody hell you’re so smart! You order the pizza, and I’ll go jump in the shower.” 

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

Ross attacked his slice of pizza like a lion attacking his prey.  

“Oh Ross, I’m so sorry that all of this has happened with Jenny!  I guess I didn’t realise that her feelings had gotten that far.  I mean, I suspected that she had a crush on you, but I didn’t realise that it had gone this far.”

Ross washed down his pizza with a gulp of his beer, shaking his head, “Babe, I really don’t understand why she’s gone down that rabbit hole.  I swear to God, I have never, ever flirted with her or tried to lead her on.”

“Oh Ross, I know you never did. You don’t have to prove anything to me.  I just feel bad for her.  Do you think it would help if I talked to her?”  

“Oh love, I don’t know. Mmmm this pizza tastes so good tonight!  Um, I really don’t know if it would help or hurt.  That’s something I haven’t even thought about.  And you know, we’ve got the wedding coming up, and I’ve always thought that she would be on the guest list, but now I don’t know how to handle that.” Ross let out a big belch.

Demelza laughed at him, “Ross, that was nasty! Judas! Haha.  Well, I guess it’s something we can think about for a bit.  Are you done eating? Or are you going to chew on the pizza box as well?”

Ross laughed, “Don’t make fun of me!  It’s been a stressful day, and this pizza and beer was so good tonight.  Just what I needed.”

“Really? I’ll remember that the next time you want to have sex!”

Ross’s eyes grew wider than saucers, “That’s not what I meant, Demelza!”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll just have to sleep with the pizza box!” She had a devilish grin on her face.

“Oh Ross, I did something today I think you’ll be happy about.”

“Oh? Did you buy some new lingerie?  Because I think I’d be pretty happy about that!”

“Ya wanker! No!  But, I did sign myself up for driving lessons!  I won’t be done with them until after the wedding, but I do start next week!  I’m kind of excited!”

Ross gave her a big hug, “Oh love, I’m so proud of you that you took this step on your own!  Once you get your licence and get more comfortable with it, I think it will really open up your life. But... can you still buy some new lingerie?”

“Oh Ross!” 

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

Pressure by Billy Joel

[mtayl0rr]

The Anomaly: 4

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f!Original Character Rating: Mature Length: 1.8k Summary: Nobody gets the upper hand on Spider-Man 2099. Nobody, until a strange anomaly slipped from his grasp. Now, what happens when he has to work with her? Warnings: enemies to lovers, eventual smut, cannon typical violence, graphic depictions of violence, Miguel is a bitch but so is she, cursing, angst, etc. trauma Note: I’m back from my trip!! Sorry about the wait. Also, make sure that if you want to be on the tag list, you have everything set up so I can tag you :)

The thrumming pulse of Nueva York’s heart slowed down as the day died and the members of the spider society returned to their own dimensions for the night. No more cases to look over, food court lines to wait in, or aggravating people to deal with.

Almost.

Miguel's blood still boiled at the thought of letting that anomaly stay in his tower, use his resources, and leech off his hard work for her own benefit. Now, she thinks that she’s won. It was clear in her eyes as she talked him and Jess through a debrief on everything she’s gathered on the figure she’s been tracking. Her irises glistened with a sense of pride and victory that Miguel despised. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for it; drowning in her eyes, blue as the ocean. It disgusted him. He hated the beach.

“So what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Madelynn asked, snapping him from his daze.

“Excuse me?” He replied, holding back his anger that threatened to boil over. It was late, and he had a lot of stuff to do. None of it concerned the red-haired bother standing in front of him.

“I have nowhere to go. Am I staying here or are you giving me a watch so I can go find someplace else to sleep while this arrangement goes on.”

“No way in hell are you getting a watch,” snapped Miguel.

“So I’m sleeping here. Where?”

“The floor.”

“What the fuck do you mean, the floor?” She mocked, standing from her chair. “If I’m sleeping on the floor until this ordeal is settled then the deal is off and I’m out of here.”

“You seemed pretty comfortable on the floor earlier,” Miguel snarked, his patience wearing thin. Madelynn’s face began to shift redder, nearly matching her hair. “Look, most members of the society don’t destroy their lives back in their dimensions and spend the night where they belong so forgive me for not having the proper arrangements set up.”

“Oh, so I’m a society member now?” She smirked.

“Absolutely not.”

“Just ask Lyla to figure something out,” Jess chimed in, dialing her own dimension into her watch. “Don’t make the poor girl sleep on the floor, Miguel.”

A stubborn frown painted Miguel’s sharp face, his complexion riddled with annoyance and a reluctance to comply with what they were suggesting. Keeping this anomaly around and helping her was never his idea. Now, somehow, it was his problem to deal with. He waited until Jess was gone before he summoned the AI to fix the mess she created.

“Mig, stop being such a big ol’ grump. We have a few rooms open on 127,” Lyla chirped, her digital form relaxing on nothing as she hovered above his shoulder.

“You’re making it sound like this is a hotel for troubled vigilantes,” he grumbled.

“If it was, you’d need to at least charge an entry fee-“

“Is the room open, yes or no?” He snapped, cutting her off.

“Not with that attitude, it isn’t,” Lyla said, her face contorting in disgust. “You know, please and thank you are the secret of the Nile,” she smiled.

“Good for them.”

“Some manners would really suit you, Mig.”

“What did I say about you calling me that?”

“Yeah, don’t care. Now, if you want to know what room on 127 I can send her to, you have to learn your manners,” said Lyla, her mischievous figure jumping from place to place in the air.

“Lyla just-“

“Wrong.”

“I’m telling you to-“

“Wrong again, Mig. Three strikes and you’re out.”

Miguel glanced to the side at Madelynn, hoping that she had managed to engage herself in something else entirety., rather than watching him in such a belittling position. No, she was practically kicked back as if she was watching a television show, imaginary popcorn on hand as she waited for him to succumb to his AI and say the magic word. Anger coursed through his veins as her smile glistened in the faint light that illuminated the room.

“Lyla,” he began, forcing himself to remain calm, “please tell me what room she can stay in.”

“17B. Now, was that so hard?”

“Yes, it was.” Lyla waved at Madelynn before disappearing entirely, the orange hue she casted across the room vanishing and leaving the two spider-men in near-complete darkness.

Miguel stood first, eager to escape the wave of embarrassment that flooded over his chest. As he turned toward the door, Madelynn’s laughter filled the room, little by little. At first it was a small snort, as if she was holding back her hysterics, but almost instantly, she was full-blown belly laughing. This woman didn’t laugh like any other woman Miguel had ever met. She didn’t laugh: she yelled. The sound bounced off the walls of the hollow room as she tried to contain herself, tears streaming down her face.

“What’s so funny?” Miguel questioned, knowing full and well it was him.

“You,” she managed to exhale as she gasped for air, holding her stomach as if laughing so hard at his embarrassment caused her physical pain. “Wow, I really needed that. It’s nice to see you get humbled, M-“ she stopped herself quickly.

Miguel saw the look on her face as the smile fell, and he knew she hoped he didn’t catch her trail off at the end of her sentence. The idea of saying his name was disgusting to her. He could tell.

“Well,” he sighed, “are you coming or not? Laugh all you want but I can simply forget to give you a place to sleep.”

Madelynn watched a crooked smile adorn his face as he chuckled softly to himself, walking out the door. She quickly followed, catching up with his long strides to stand by his side. The silence between them was louder than anything she’d heard before. Even still, she managed to fill it with her own thoughts screaming in her head. She almost used his name. She almost equated her Miguel to 2099. It was like using the Lord’s name in vain.

Their footsteps filled the nearly empty halls of the headquarters. 2099 towered over Madelynn by simply standing and walking like normal. His stature was so freakishly tall that his sheer presence intimidated her. As they walked, she studied him like he was a priceless piece of art, examining every sharp edge and soft curve of his body. She saw the way his hair stayed perfect under his mask whenever it was projected onto his head, or how his crimson eyes burned like hellfire.

“It’s rude to stare,” 2099 interrupted, turning his head to face her.

“What can I say? I’m rude,” she shrugged, convincing herself that she was examining him like a predator examines its prey. Nothing more. After another beat, she spoke up again. “Do you have hammerspace in your mask?” She asked, awkwardly initiating their first real conversation.

“Yes and no,” he replied.

“That’s incredibly vague and entirely unhelpful.”

“Good. I don’t trust you yet. I can't tell you all my secrets.” Something about his tone seemed lighthearted. It was wrong. It was even written on his face after he said it: a look of pure disbelief he tried to mask. But she saw it. 2099 was not supposed to be someone who engaged in lighthearted banter. No, he was a monster; a cruel and cold bastard who could kill in an instant.

An awkward beat of silence passed between them again, the conversation over as quickly as it had started, the two of them walking forward blanked faced. No more than a few hours ago, 2099 had been hunting her down, vowing to capture her; torture her for beating him. Now, he made no moves to even look in her direction as he guided her through the massive building.

“Tell me about your Miguel,” he asked after a few minutes, breaking the wall of silence separating them.

“I already told you and Jess everything I knew about what happened,” Madelynn dryly responded.

“No, I mean what was he like?”

“Oh,” Madelynn said, taken aback by his curiosity. Alarms blared in her mind, thinking about all the ways this could be a trap. Something backhanded he concocted to keep her under his finger. “He was a scrawny Irish kid before he got rapture. Heart of gold, too. We grew up together, went to colleges right next to each other, the whole nine yards. He, uh, he was my best friend. I was the one who found him after the overdose. I mean, I tried to get him to stop taking it, but he couldn’t.”

The threat of tears pricked at her eyes, but Madelynn quickly pushed them down. 2099 would never see her cry. As he pressed the buttons on the side of the glass elevator, 2099 ran a distressed hand through his hair. His face was painted with painful memories, each one scrolling across his eyes like a slideshow.

His voice was softer when he spoke; a tone Madelynn had never heard before. “I understand how hard that was for him,” 2099 said as the elevator began its descent downwards. “Rapture is life-altering.” He didn’t need to spell it out for Madelynn to understand what he was implying.

“How’d you manage to quit?” She asked, and 2099 sucked in a deep breath, as if he was hoping she wouldn’t ask.

“Genetically modifying myself. I was never bitten by a spider,” he explained, beginning his stride down the hall as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. “It’s why I have the abilities I do.”

Somewhere in the mix of confusion and hatred she felt for 2099, Madelynn felt sorry.

The door that 2099 opened revealed a simple room: decent bed, small bathroom, a few shelves, and a window. Anything was better than the basement of a superstore, or a damp alleyway. She gave 2099 a faint nod as she walked in, dropping the scraps of her suit onto the desk by the door, frowning at its state.

“You’ll get a new suit for combat either tomorrow or the day after. Tomorrow morning at 9:30 sharp you will meet Jess and I in my office. The later you are, the less I’ll care about helping you. Understand?” 2099 ordered, his looming figure too tall to comfortably fit through the doorway.

“Sure,” she responded. “Uh, thank you.”

With a simple nod, she watched Miguel walk away, his footsteps getting quieter as Madelynn sat on her bed confused, wondering why her heart was racing.

Taglist: @pink-or-red-roses @mitskistannn @keepingitlokiii @miatjie @cupidastas @strxngegirl @lemoncliffbreezzy @cicithemess2000 @acceptedbyace @sunshiines-stuff @obamnas-soda @keenzinemugstudent @tojisrightnut @forwardvoid @astridyoo15 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @erensbbg @tsukishimawhore @discoseal @peicksgf @blep24 @1-800-no-users-left @kittekat420 @timotheesrealgf @boo8008 @ang3lf4c3 @artfulthoughtswp @redhoodedtoad @greyscreensposts @iamfandomnerd @iwanttobesomeone @robotictoad @ariamittchell @chxmpuniverse @alexdoesntlikeyou

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away: Chapter 3

Seeking Answers

1k words

Link to Masterpost

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

It was easy enough to hide the change for the first few days. If Trevor stayed slightly hunched over, it was hard to tell he’d gained a few inches. It wasn’t like people paid him much mind anyways.

By the second week, though, he could tell people were beginning to notice a difference. He kept getting weird looks from other students when he passed by. There was only so much he could do to make himself look smaller when he’d grown over a foot in such a short period of time.

Maybe he should’ve been more grateful. He’d been 4’9” before all of this, of course he wanted to be taller. If it had been slower, or even if it had happened over the summer, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Why’d it have to happen like this?

Robbie’s attitude was by far the worst part. Any time he got the chance, he’d place a hand on the back of Trevor’s neck and shove him downwards. It was like he felt the need to physically remind Trevor that he was supposed to be the small one. Or maybe he was just reminding himself.

Then there was the time he’d pinned Trevor against a locker, his mouth open to start mocking him. He shut it quickly and scowled when he realized that they were on eye level with each other. Trevor barely caught the look of alarm in his eye as he walked away.

Should he talk to someone about this? Maybe he could talk to that counselor from the Lively Institute. But was this even a superpowers thing? He’d never heard of a superhero with anything like this going on. But what else could it be?

It’d been a few weeks since he started growing when he finally made up his mind to talk to the counselor. He’d had to go shopping for new clothes for the second time in a month. His mom insisted it was fine, but he knew it put a strain on their budget. That was when he had to face the fact that what was happening to him was not normal.

He'd heard that in addition to sponsoring the superheroes of San Solaris, the Lively institute also helped out normal people with superpowers. Maybe they could help him with his problem. So, one day before class started, he sought out the counselor in his office, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.

The man looked up from his computer as he walked in, shooting him a smile that felt a little plastic. He stood up to greet him. He had a badge that said, “Lively Institute: Kyle Roberts.”

He dressed a little more like a resource officer than a counselor. He wore a gray button-up, black slacks, and polished black shoes to match. If Trevor hadn’t read what it said, he might’ve mistaken the badge for that of a police officer. He wore a utility belt that included things like the futuristic handcuffs they used on supers, as well as a gun in its holster.

“Trevor Castillo?” he asked, pronouncing his last name wrong, like Cuh-still-oh. Trevor didn’t bother to correct him, instead nodding his head to show he was the right person.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met,” Mr. Roberts continued, sticking his hand out for Trevor to shake. He took it, and the man shook his hand firmly

“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around, you’re so tall!” he finished with a chuckle.

“…Yeah,” Trevor replied awkwardly, letting his hand go. Mr. Roberts motioned for him to sit, so he did. Then Mr. Roberts sat down in his own chair.

“So, what brings you in here today?” He asked him.

“Well, um,” Trevor struggled to find the right words. “The reason you probably haven’t noticed me before is because I wasn’t always this tall. It’s a, uh, recent change.”

Mr. Roberts frowned in thought. “Your powers?” he asked.

“I think so?”

“Well,” Mr. Roberts began, “Thanks for telling us first. We always like to hear it from the students themselves when their powers come in, instead of finding it out the hard way.

“You have a lot of opportunity ahead of you,” he swiveled in his chair to reach for a pamphlet behind him. “The Lively Institute is committed to guiding the heroes of the future as they come into their own.”

“Right,” Trevor spoke up, interrupting his spiel. “I just wanted to know if there was any way to stop it?”

Mr. Roberts seemed a little thrown at being interrupted, but soon continued.

“That’s up to you. Our Future Heroes Training Program has a variety of experts to assist you in terms of control, technique, and more.”

Trevor was beginning to get a little impatient. He leaned forward as he spoke, causing Mr. Roberts to lean away slightly.

“What if I don’t want to be a superhero? Isn’t there like a cure or something?”

Mr. Roberts was clearly struggling now that they were going off-script.

“W-well,” he stammered. “Taking powers away is usually something done as—as a last resort, and never to non-criminals. I’d advise you to look into the program if you’re looking for answers about your powers.”

He slowly slid the brochure towards Trevor.

Trevor slumped in his seat. “So you can’t help me?”

“Um. There is a help hotline for supers who aren’t affiliated with the institute, but there’s little assistance we can offer.” Mr. Roberts handed him a card with a number written on it.

Trevor took it in two fingers, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said flatly, then stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Wait,” Mr. Roberts spoke up as he reached the door. Trevor looked over his shoulder.

“If you end up calling that number, could you let them know I referred you?” he asked.

Trevor turned and stormed off, letting the door slam behind him as he left.

First/Last/Next

[punisheddonjuan]

So I forgot about/didn't get around to deleting one of the dating apps I had installed to see what the dating ecosystem was like after having been away for close to eight years and this morning I received a notification from said app. Said app poses a daily question for users to answer in a public thread. This was today's question:

Knowing that this would not be a positive experience but feeling compelled to look anyway, I steeled myself for the responses and dove in.

"Disabled man is bitter about the way society treats him, therefore he is a narcissist."

That's a lot of words to say "no, and the only reason people say yes is because they are trying to be woke, but everyone knows deep down that disabled people aren't desirable" also your name is Òdinn and you appear to live in the forests of Norway so there is a high chance that you're a Nazi.

This is such a typical response and I have no doubt in my mind that this guy would leave said hypothetical partner who became disabled in an accident, simply because the overwhelming majority of men will leave a disabled partner. Hell it's a very common r/relationshipadvice topic.

This response leaves me with many questions and no answers. Why would you need to change your perspective?

Jesus fucking Christ. I know this is supposed to be "a joke" but it's almost more hateful that way.

Way to throw in some weird "sexual market value" incel shit into the conversation there dude with "hot women can date rich men to escape lower economic divisions".

I guess points to this guy for honesty, but it still sucks.

I've not met a single disabled person ever, including myself, who prefers the term "differently abled". Not only does the feel patronizing and like it was workshopped by a cadre of guilt ridden HR managers, the language of that particular euphemism suggests, at its core, that a failure to thrive is more the result of personal failing than systemic barriers to employment, education, housing, or relationships. It's sprung from the same liberal eugenicist minds that gave us the phrase "the only real disability is not having a positive attitude".

Christ this is bleak.

Well at least I was reminded to delete the app.

You know, nine times out of ten, it's not worth it for a disabled person to try to date a non-disabled person. Your dating pool should really just be restricted to other disabled persons, and this is in many ways preferable, but because society wants you dead, there are structural barriers. Here in Canada you were already likely to lose your disability benefits should you get married, because supporting you should be the responsibility of your spouse (never mind that the disabled partner is at much greater risk of abuse and is now dependant on their abuser) and if you're both disabled, well you both risk losing your benefits. Two people pooling their meagre resources is considered gaming the system. Bleak.

It kind of makes you hate incels just a little more for co-opting a term coined by a mentally ill queer woman, who hit on a feeling a lot of people with structural barriers to relationships experience. There are a lot of people out there who are denied intimacy for long stretches of time or perhaps for the duration of their life for reasons rooted in the pervasive and systemic ableism throughout our culture and society. Reasons that are entirely outside of those persons' control. Instead the term is now the sole domain of broken men who blame their lack of partner on a "a few millimeters of bone" instead of their actual problem, being raging misogynist antisocial creeps who do things like shit on their laptops while livestreaming with other antisocial misogynist creeps. It's a shame it wasn't put to better use.

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

i assume you'll be coming for blood (that makes two of us)

Chapter 1

Ao3 | 1.9k words | Sweetheart's POV

You'd never even heard of shades when the file slid across your desk on Monday morning. - Fooliverse Sweetheart faces off with that first shade. They already know Milo, but things are a lot more complicated than they might have been, not least because of their own stubbornness and pride. Hopefully that pride won't get them killed. Hopefully.

TW: violence, mentions of sex, the Department

You’d never even heard of shades when the file slid across your desk on Monday morning. The Quinn Fox case had left you with a week’s worth of paperwork despite the nice little bow that Milo’s help had tied on it for you. The Department didn’t like the Vampire Council, and the concept of Sanguine Primero was contentious at best with Department officials. The stamped and sealed paperwork you’d been provided with was only good for telling you who was involved. You’d been forced to interview nearly every person involved, including the intimidating Talbot Pack Alpha.  

In the end, Asher, which he insisted you call him, was actually quite nice. Once you’d gotten past his intense demeanor, he had a quiet sense of humor that you appreciated. He’d given you the details, answered every question, and promised you statements from every pack member involved. He did sternly refuse to allow you access to them, especially the wayward wolf that had been the catalyst for all of this, Quinn’s true victim. He wouldn’t even give you their name, just an acknowledgement of how difficult he knew that would make your report. That famous wolf possessiveness on display.  

Just as Talbot- as Asher- promised, the statements were delivered to your work email by end of business that day, including an anonymous one from Fox’s victim. You’d filed them dutifully, along with Milo’s and a heavily edited one from his clan-mate Porter.  

All of that had taken the wind out of you surrounding the case. You’d almost been naive enough to believe that you’d get to take in a wanted criminal on your first case, adding a bit of clout behind your title.  

You were the least impressive member of your class, at least by your instructor’s standards. Being a stealth was useful as an investigator, but not when apprehending suspects, not in a physical test, not when trying to show off to your new captain just how useful you could be. The Department was a good old-fashioned boys’ club. Sons of enforcers and investigators crowded your academy class, and their attitudes surrounding your size and power and physical ability clouded their judgment about you. It didn’t matter that you were the strongest stealth in your family in generations, that you could phase cloak for nearly an hour, that you could run mental circles around most of those assholes in a second. Your power wasn’t one they could see or be intimidated by, so it simply didn’t exist.  

So they gave you shit like Quinn Fox, shit that would either get you killed or leave you with nothing impressive to show for your work. All while your peers hauled in suspects and bagged cases left and right.  

If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d have left this stupid fucking job the night Milo talked you down from a goddam panic attack in the middle of an investigation. If you weren’t so determined to prove everyone around you wrong, you’d have taken him up on his sugar-baby adjacent offer and live off of vampire money while receiving the best fucks of your life. 

When you told your father that you were going to be an investigator, his face had twisted into something like pity. You couldn’t stop until you replaced that with sheepish guilt and impress.  

Of course, you weren’t going to do it with this case. Shades, as far as you could tell, were a fairy tale. The Department resources on them were nearly nonexistent. You’d found a few reported sightings of the ghost-like things, but the only real answers you’d gotten were from Cam.  

Camelopardalis was your favorite coworker. You rarely crossed paths in actual work, but your break rooms were adjacent to each other, and he was the only person who smiled at you unprompted on your first day. You drank coffee together in the morning, you complained quietly about the assholes in each of your departments, and you shared lunch on a bench in the large, green courtyard outside of your building every day.  

Cam didn’t strictly need to eat, but he liked what you cooked. You went from cooking for one to two, making sure there were enough leftovers to feed you both the next day. Over re-warmed shredded beef tacos, Cam recalled everything he knew about Shades.  

“They come from Death,” he had explained, the word taking on the sort of capitalization that important places got, “and they’re very dangerous to humans. We don’t know much about them, just what they do. There’s only been a few confirmed cases of them in human history.”  

“What do they do?”  

“They’re not living things.” He said. His star-dotted eyes looked up, considering the clouds like they had answers for him. “They’re incorporeal when they first slip into Elegy- Terra-” he corrected. Some humans didn’t like it when demons used their names for things. He must have learned to edit what he was saying as he spoke. “-and they need the life force of humans to gain a physical form. Usually that means draining it from unknowing victims. Most of them are drawn to heavily populated areas, feeding a bit from a lot of people. Once they’ve gotten enough life force, they gain physical form, they often become violent. They have claws that are particularly deadly.”  

“Are they... ghosts?”  

“We don’t know.” Cam shrugged, tucking a corkscrew curl behind his tall horns.  

“How do they get here?”  

“We think they slip through the cracks of demon’s rifts.” He sighed. “Of course, it’s impossible for us to rift directly to Death. It’s a sort of... cosmic glitch. Sometimes the rifts get crossed over the wrong dimension, and that’s how we assume they find their way here.”  

“It must be confusing for them.” You said. Cam cocked his head. “I just mean... if they are ghosts, and they’ve spent forever in Death, and then suddenly find their way here... I don’t know, it’s like when you back an animal into a corner. They must be pretty freaked out.”  

Cam smiled at you before waving a hand. With a flourish of his pretty, turquoise magic, the Tupperware you’d brought from home was gone. When you got home, it would all be washed and put away in your cabinet.  

“You have such an interesting perspective.” He grinned, standing and offering you a hand. “You always see the best in everything.”  

You certainly didn’t think so charitably about the shade when you faced it for the first time. It was a ghastly thing. Barely visible, it looked like a skeleton wrapped in thin, black smoke. It’s mouth opened into a horrible, gaping maw. You could smell the decay on it, even from your distance.  

You had backed it into an alley, a secluded corner just off Dahlia’s nightclub district. It had been feeding on college students, drunk kids who couldn’t see straight enough to know to run. You knew to run, but instead of away from it, you’d chased it. God, you were an idiot. When most people ran away, you ran to.  

Your magic was useless against it. It hadn’t taken physical form. Your fists passed right through it when you tried to fight it off. It framed your throat with two boney hands, drew your face towards its own, like it was going to kiss you. Instead, it sucked the life out of you.  

You came to cold, shivering on the damp ground of that alley. Nobody had seen you, or at least, nobody had stopped to help. The shade was gone.  

Making your way home was more difficult than you had thought it would be. Your phone was dead, so no Uber, no call to the Department, no call to Cam since you were truly desperate. The nausea was overwhelming, and your knees were weak. You remembered, giddily, Milo’s comment about not locking them in stressful situations. It only did you so much good, and you had to stop at every bench and a few curbs to not keel over.  

Somehow, you managed the three mile walk and the two flights of stairs up to your apartment. You barely made it to your bathroom before you emptied your stomach of the day’s contents, your vision swimming and body finally giving out on you. By the time you’d dry heaved your throat to shreds and your stomach finally settled, you were shaking all over, broken out into a cold sweat. This felt like a particularly brutal flu, the memory of stomach bugs lingering in the back of your head.  

“I want my mom,” you whispered to no one, your head pressed into the cool white tile floor. That childish instinct reared its head like it did every time you were ill. You wanted someone to brush their fingers through your hair, press a cold cloth to the back of your neck, make you soup and nag you about getting plenty of fluids.  

Eventually, you dragged yourself off of the bathroom floor. You stripped out of your sweat-soaked clothes and crawled under the covers of your bed. You fumbled with your phone charger, your hands shaking, and waited with drooping eyelids as it came back to life.  

You didn’t know why you called him of all people. You had plenty of others who you should have called first. Your supervisor, for one, who would need a report of your injury. Your father was twenty minutes away and would have been there in a heartbeat, with his sorry glances and muttered admonishments about this job being a bad fit. Your older brother and younger sister both lived a handful of blocks away, but there wasn’t a caring bone shared between them.  

“Is this the kind of three A.M. call I’ve been waiting for, Sweets, or-”  

He must have heard your ragged breathing, because he stopped mid-flirt, his tone faltering. Milo’s flirty facade was always sort of amusing to you. It was so clearly an act, a cover for the insecurity or angst or whatever he was trying to keep down. Sometimes, especially when you required some sort of care, it fell away without him even noticing, and you were left to stare at the naked truth of him.  

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his voice jumping a few pitches in concern. You smiled absently at that.  

“I-” your voice was wrecked, ruined by strain. You cleared it a few times, trying to sound a bit more presentable. “Nothing.” You lied. Milo would know, but you didn’t have the energy to explain. “The flu.”  

“Uh-huh.” Milo replied. He went silent.  

He wasn’t your fucking boyfriend. You weren’t in a relationship. He was a fuck buddy at best. You wouldn’t even go so far as to call him a friend with benefits. He wasn’t your friend.  

“I just-“ you repressed the urge to cough. “I won’t be there. Tomorrow night. Because of the flu.”  

“Are you-“ Milo seemed on the verge of asking you something dangerous like ‘are you okay,’ which would take this fun, casual thing you had going on and add feelings to it, something neither of you wanted. “Right.” He finally settled; his voice still suspicious. “I guess um… just let me know. When you’re better. Or if you need… soup. Or anything.”  

“Soup.” You repeated.  

“Fuck off.” Milo growled. “I haven’t been human in years, remember? I don’t know what sick people need.”  

“I don’t need anything.” You said quickly, defensively. “I’ll… text you next time. I don’t know why I called.”  

“It’s okay,” Milo said, “I don’t mind a call.”  

“Right.” You said. “I‘ll call you in a few days. When I’m better.”  

“Okay.” You could hear him deflate, his tone settling back in that façade. “I’ll see you soon, Sweetness.”  

“Yeah.” You replied. You didn’t know if you managed to hang up before you passed out.