#I am so sorry this feels like so much info dumping

[faytelumos]

Into the Black With a Matchstick, pt5

I have no idea what the word count here is but this feels kinda long. @_@

Also, I am so sorry for all of the exposition; I am trying to make it gentle but it feels like a lot! I think we're at/almost at the hump of this story, though! :0

@c00kieknight, @hypersomnia-insomniac, @jxm-1up, @midnight--architect, @robinparravel

@thepotatoofnopes, @those-damn-snippets

@mr-orion, @tildeathiwillwrite, @thelazywitchphotographer

cw: some peril, descriptions of vertigo and vomiting

first previous

---

Ten minutes.

That was no time at all.

The Skel. What in the name of Creation were the Skel doing in this sector? Paxie was here to monitor smuggling, to discourage unlicensed vessels from flying, to report unusual star activity.

The squad of five ships were not equipped for a skirmish with them.

"All ships!" Paxie ordered across the emergency channel. "Spool FTL drives and make heading for nearest fallback position! Defensive power allocations!" Ten minutes. Ten minutes! If the ships weren't all ready in time, if the Earthlings couldn't get ready in time—

They had no FTL travel—

"Ready automated fighters to scramble!" they added hurriedly.

The Earthlings. What were they going to do about the Earthlings.

Kime was scrambling, and she clamored in a rush through the narrow hallway. Paxie got out of her way as she bumped and clawed her way to the shuttle.

"Admiral!" Klte hissed. They looked back towards the med bay to see it looking at them, its helmet already back on its head. "The Earthlings!"

"I know," Paxie barked affirmatively. They couldn't leave this ship behind. But there was no way for it to possibly travel fast enough to keep up.

"Admiral," Harrison said, stepping into the hall. His eyes were wide, and his skin was pale. Paxie worried for a moment he might faint again. "How do your faster than light engines work?" Paxie blinked. They had no idea. And why was this a question to ask? Surely there was no way for the Earthlings to make an FTL drive in ten minutes with the technology available on this ancient ship. "Do they dematerialize?" he asked. "Do you use wormholes? Is it a space deforming drive?"

"It-it warps the shape of space," Klte hissed. Harrison turned sharply to look at them. Ramirez stepped into the hall.

"Does the space around the ship remain unchanged?" Harrison asked. "Is it distorted inside of the rings?"

What was the Earthling talking about? How did he know how FTL drives worked if Earth didn't have them?

"No," Klte said, their voice almost awed. "No, it's distorted in a bubble through the rings and projectors." Harrison turned sharply to Paxie.

"Admiral, we have to move this ship onto the belly of one of your vessels," Harrison said. "If your ships have ferrous hulls, we can clamp onto you to avoid falling off. But we have to begin maneuvers now."

"That's out of the question," Paxie breathed, blanching. The risk of the ship falling out of alignment and crossing the warp barrier.... "If you fall away, your ship will be smeared across open space."

"And what are the chances of the incoming vessel killing us?" Ramirez asked. She was stoic again. The look in her eyes was... haunting. She had the focus of any Xoixe. Of any apex.

Paxie looked again to Harrison. To Klte.

"Unless you have a ship large enough to dock our vessel, we don't have time to think of another solution," Ramirez said. And Paxie didn't. This mission had been routine, and the Earthling's ship was too large and awkwardly shaped to store on any of the Xoixe craft.

They opened a channel to Captain Eme.

"Captain, prepare The Water's Kiss to align and attach to the Earthling vessel, belly-to-belly."

"A-Admiral?!" Eme choked.

Ramirez and Harrison both sprinted to a different room in the ship.

"They know the risk, Captain, and it was their idea."

"This species is completely suicidal," Eme gasped. Paxie considered the conversation Ramirez and Kime had just had.

"I'm inclined to agree," they breathed. Then they looked up to Klte. "Into the shuttle, we have to get back."

"Aye, sir," it said, already getting down on all eight and running headlong for the airlock.

Adina could hear Paxie making their massive way back to the shuttle from the gear room. John swore again, yanking on the thermal regulation layer, and Adina finally managed to get her damned cryo suit off of her body.

"What a fuckin' day," John gasped, getting the tight-fitting undersuit on and zipped up. Adina just laughed bitterly. She'd barely gotten two minutes with the damn IV before she had to yank it out of her arm again.

John shrugged the top half of his spacesuit on just as Adina heard the low-pitched thump of the outer airlock door sealing. A moment later, there was a deep clang as the alien shuttle detached. "Solstice!" Adina barked, yanking her thermal layer into place. The computer chimed. "Override collision controls and roll ship 180 degrees!"

"Right away, Doctor Adina Ramirez," the computer said in its slow, melodic, feminine voice. The ship immediately began to tilt.

"Shit," John hissed, stumbling as he stood on one leg, stepping into the bottom half of his suit.

Once John finished suiting up, he helped Adina get clamped down. They both waddled to the bridge.

"Which chair do I sit in?" Adina cried.

"How many sim hours did you log?" John asked. Adina stuttered, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to remember.

"Um, uh, uh, th-three hundred and f-forty!"

"You're on comms," John said, pointing to the first chair on the left. He took the one mounted facing forward, and she thanked whatever the fuck was left of God that it wasn't up to her to fly this thing.

There was already a hail request open, and when Adina answered it, she got video of the purpley-green Xoixe.

"Earthlings, you have six minutes before the Skel arrive!" the thing boomed. John swore.

"Adina, are you buckled in?"

"N-no!"

"Get buckled, we have to move!"

Adina stumbled and grasped, her breathing coming loud and hard. The buckle was large, made to be used even with the massive spacesuit gloves, and she was able to get strapped in even as the ship kept spinning.

"I'm in!"

The ship lurched downwards, and Adina squeezed her eyes shut against the vertigo.

"Collision shield disabled!" someone in the room on the alien ship cried.

"Away vessel successfully docked!" another announced.

"FTL fully spooled! Bubble zone partially obstructed!"

"Lieutenant Harrison, you have to move faster!" the alien captain cried. Adina could barely hear them over the sound of her breathing. She kept her eyes closed, trying not to remember how close the helmet was to her face, trying not to think about what would happen if they got stuck here or sliced apart in the warp bubble, trying not to think about how it felt like she was going to throw up again.

"If I hit you too hard, I'll bounce off and lose my alignment!" John yelled back over his shoulder.

"Harrison, we don't have time, I promise you will not bounce off of our hull!" the captain yelled back. "Clear the bubble zone, now!"

John swore loudly and Adina cried out when he punched the maneuvering thrusters. It felt like they were free-falling, the entire ship rushing down faster and faster, flinging her stomach into her lungs, and then they slammed to a stop so fast that Adina's teeth cracked shut.

"Bubble zone clear!"

"Engage drive!"

The entire ship seemed to yank to the right, like some kind of twisted roller coaster and rubber band hybrid. Then everything shuddered all at once, and then there was aching, deafening stillness.

Adina could hear her panicked breathing like it was blasting through an amp right next to her face. Her head was spinning like a top but she knew in her body the cabin was unnaturally still. Her breathing picked up — she heard it more than felt it — and suddenly she was scrambling at the latch of her helmet, her gloved fingers clawing at the bottom of her visor.

She got the helmet off in time, but forgot about the seat buckle. The channel was still open in front of her as she coughed up bile. Her ears were ringing. She didn't feel any better at all.

"Adina?" John said. He held her face in his gloved hands, suddenly standing next to her. "Hey, can you stand?" Adina closed her eyes. She would have shaken her head, but even the thought made her want to wretch again.

"N, hh, n, nn-nn...."

"Stay right here, then," John uttered, letting go of her. "We seem stable, so I'm gonna grab the IV again." Adina couldn't speak, and she couldn't move her head, so she just kept trying to breathe.

---

By the time Paxie got out of their suit, The Water's Kiss was well away from where it had come across the Earth vessel. Once again in open hallways, free of the environment suit, Paxie had abandoned propriety and sprinted for the command room.

They ran full-out, their claws scraping against the decks, their blood rushing. Everything was sharp. Their scales buzzed, and they were keenly aware of how hard their muscles were pumping to move them like this. Their body was alight, electrified. Their mind was focused, the Earthling pair their only thought.

They burst into the command room and slowed, their scales itching. They scraped their claws against the deck, panting hard, eyes snapping to the front of the bridge. There was an open channel, and Captain Ramirez was slumped in the display, breathing hard as Lieutenant Harrison worked around them.

Paxie relaxed, and the weight of fatigue settled over them. They padded heavily to the captain's chair. Eme flinched when they came into view and hurriedly vacated the seat. Paxie laid down in it, their chest heaving, and laid their claws down flat.

The Earthlings survived the initial jump. Good.

"Status report," Paxie huffed.

"The Earthling vessel is secured to the bottom hull, sir," Eme explained. "Our Ghost volunteered to engineer the dampener settings to keep them stable. We've evacuated the bottom two decks to keep our personnel from getting sick, but…." Eme glanced at the screen. Ramirez was trembling, and Harrison was wiping their face with the same thing they had given him earlier.

"She'll be okay," Lieutenant Harrison said. It felt all too familiar, to have Ramirez looking close to death and Harrison dismissing the matter. Perhaps it was another quirk of the species. Another avenue of their… self-destructive attitude. "We didn't suffer any damage during the maneuvers, thankfully," Harrison added. He stooped down to look into the feed from over Ramirez's shoulder. "We didn't hurt anything, did we?"

"N-no," Eme said. He was keeping his voice very proper. "No damage was sustained during maneuvers, and we did not have to scramble any automated fighters to escape." He looked again to Paxie. "All four vessels reported clean spool and initiation. We'll arrive at the fallback position five minutes behind them."

"It's going to be a long five minutes for them," Paxie mused. Maybe it felt closer than it was, but Paxie had been terrified the new aliens were going to get The Water's Kiss killed, or die in the retreat, themselves. If it was them waiting at the fallback position for a ship to arrive, they were sure they'd be inconsolably worried.

"Captain Ramirez, Lieutenant Harrison," Paxie said. Harrison looked up, but Ramirez only grunted. She was clearly in bad shape. And she wasn't getting better the way Harrison had. Paxie swallowed thickly and straightened up taller. "On behalf of the Interstellar Federation of Alliance, I, Admiral Uten Paxie, offer you and your species sanctuary. Under Article six of the Orphaned Body protocol, you all will be afforded medical care, nutrition, and housing without the need to prove citizenship of the Federation."

Harrison was staring at Paxie now. He curled one side of his lips upward, and chuffed softly. Ramirez seemed to be barely lucid. Paxie flattened their ears.

"As the commanding officer of this squadron, and your current head of authority, I'm authorizing an extended rest for the two of you," they went on. Harrison's expression went back to something more neutral. "You are both excused from any further duties for the day, and are not required to check in at a specific time."

Harrison nodded his head. He looked more serious now, more focused, the way Ramirez had earlier. He kept his hand on Ramirez's shoulder the entire time.

"Will do, Admiral," he said. He then gently patted Ramirez's shoulder. "We'll… hail you when we're feeling better."

"See that you do," Paxie said. "Rest well."

Harrison nodded again. Paxie nodded to the communications officer, who cut the feed. Then they took a long, deep breath.

"Announce ship-wide rest," they exhaled. "Keep half again extra medical staff on standby."

"Yes, sir," Eme said, opening the ship-wide channel.

---

Paxie roused with a start when their door chimed. They checked the time. It had been almost seven hours since rest had been announced. They still had another hour left.

They clambered up and out of their low bed, then padded over and hit the floor control for the door. It slid open, revealing a Qomo officer.

"The Earthlings have roused," it announced in the Xoixe language. "They've requested council with you and a highly skilled xenomedic at your convenience." Paxie quirked their jaw.

"Has something gone wrong? Are they injured?"

"No, sir," it said, "Captain Ramirez seems to be fairing better, already. But they wish to discuss the lives of their crew."

That was right. Ramirez and Harrison were the only crew members who had been thawed from their cryonic sleep, but there were more Earthlings than them on board. They would all need to be awoken as soon as possible. Keeping any creature in such a state, let alone for so terribly long, was absurdly inhumane.

"Very well. Rouse Ensign Kime and Lieutenant Tapide."

"Aye, sir."

Once Paxie was refreshed and the two xenomedics were gathered, the three entered the bridge. There was an open channel, already, and the second captain stood and relinquished the chair to Paxie. Paxie nodded their head and padded over, but they watched the feed distractedly.

Nobody was in frame. They could tell they were looking at a part of the ship near the helm station, but all there was to see was metal and wiring.

"Captain Ramirez?" Paxie said. They switched on the translation protocol when their words weren't repeated. "Lieutenant Harrison?"

There was a metal clatter. One of the Earthlings said something too quiet for the translation protocol to pick up. Then Harrison came into view. He looked pinker in the face now, and his eyes seemed clearer. He bore his teeth widely.

"Admiral, hi," he said. He was very close to the screen, and the untranslated version of his voice was loud. "How did you sleep?"

Paxie huffed a laugh.

"I think I should be asking you that," they said. "Is Captain Ramirez okay?"

"She's much better now," Harrison said, looking off-screen in the direction he'd come. Then he looked back to them. "She slept like a rock and got some water in her, so now she actually looks like a scientist."

"I can hear you!" Ramirez's voice shouted from off-screen. She sounded agressive, but Harrison was laughing, baring his teeth. Paxie quirked their ears. He didn't seem to be worried about confrontation or repercussions.

"Anyway, Admiral, we have a few questions," Harrison said, hiding his teeth again. He moved, and seemed to lower himself before the screen. Perhaps resting in that odd chair design. He was serious now. "We have around two hundred people on this vessel, six of which are presumed dead."

Paxie jolted, eyes wide. "What happened?" they demanded. "How long have they been dead?"

"They failed to wake from cryo sleep."

Paxie stared. Eight creatures had been awoken from cryo sleep? And only two of them had survived? They knew cryogenic stasis was cruel, but to be so dangerous?

"What is the state of the six individuals?" Lieutenant Tapide asked. She wasn't Xoixe, but a species with long, bright green and blue feathers across her body, small, delicate hands, and a smaller, more delicate voice.

"Once they fail to wake, the system re-suspends the body," Harrison explained. "The hope there is that they'll be preserved enough to resuscitate, if it's an option."

"Then they haven't been dead long enough to degrade?" Tapide asked. She was already going through information on her tablet beside Kime.

"That's the hope," Harrison said. He lowered his voice now, looking away. "We haven't exactly… checked on them. In person. But the computer says they're still viable."

Paxie felt a pang in their gut. Harrison wasn't looking at the feed now, and he had dropped his voice. Nobody knew the body language of these creatures yet, but this was not what they had observed as Harrison's normal demeanor.

Two hundred Earthlings. And six of them were possibly dead. What may have been a small wound to the Xoixe was a great blow to the Earthlings. No planet, no bearings, no familiar species, hunted in open space, and with barely enough of them left to survive.

Paxie rested their weight further back, dizzied with the idea. They could have very possibly witnessed an extinction event had the Earth ship not made it away with The Water's Kiss, had they not made such a risky and unsound exit plan. Not just the death of intelligent life, but the death of an intelligent species.

It was a difficult prospect to swallow.

"We're unable to dispatch a medpod to you during our jump," Tapide said. Paxie looked to her. She was especially unflappable among her people, they knew this, but it always took Paxie off-guard. "How accessible are your cryogenic compatriots?"

"Uh, well," Harrison said, glancing between Paxie, Kime, and Tapide. Paxie already knew Tapide would fit in the Earthling ship better than they did, but still not as well as the Earthlings. And since their spaces seemed to be made compact on purpose, they could only imagine what the stasis array looked like. "We would probably want to remove the pods from our stasis chamber. We can take them wherever you need to work on them once we've… landed?" Harrison raised his shoulders and twisted his hands to be downside-up, then relaxed again. "I don't know how it works."

"Once our jump is concluded, we can dock properly and shuttle your pods aboard," Paxie explained. "The Water's Kiss should have plenty of resources to evaluate your kin, and determine their revivability."

Harrison nodded, looking down. "Okay," he said. "How long until the jump is over?" Paxie turned and looked to the engineering station, manned by the off-rotation crew member. Eme knew their name, but Paxie didn't.

"We have another six hours," the engineer announced. Paxie didn't let it show how disappointed they were to hear that. They couldn't send or receive any messages while jumping, which meant they weren't going to get any further answers, and couldn't even consult command.

This was probably the worst First Contact in recorded history.

"Alright," Harrison said. He got to his feet again. "I guess we'll see you in six hours, then."

"Very well," Paxie said. "If you have further needs, do not hesitate to hail us again."

"Thanks," Harrison said, and he bore his teeth. He reached for the screen, but then stopped suddenly. "Oh, and before I forget," he said. "Thank you for sending the-the Ghost over."

Paxie tilted their head.

"The Ghost is there?"

Harrison raised the fur patches over his eyes.

"Oh," he said, turning to where he had come onscreen from. "Uh…." He glanced to the screen again.

Paxie heaved a long sigh. They hadn't cleared the Ghost to go aboard the Earthling vessel, but they supposed they hadn't specifically barred it, either. This Ghost wriggled through regulations like water through a leash.

The video feed blurred briefly, and then Harrison moved aside. A transparent, blue-gray mass waved into frame, seeming briefly to obscur the video with a sparse star field.

"Greetings, Admiral," the translation protocol said. Paxie withheld a laugh.

"Hello, Weak Force. You were supposed to wait to be introduced." Paxie couldn't help but notice their words weren't translated to the Earthling language, despite the translation protocol still being active.

"These creatures took my appearance with great grace," the automated voice said. "They understand better than we expected, and did not require coaching to comprehend me."

"Oh, that's good," Paxie said. When Harrison had… fainted, well…. Paxie wasn't worried now, because he seemed fine. But he would have been if Ramirez had been the one on screen, and Harrison remained hidden.

"Admiral," the voice said again. The blur on the video solidified somewhat, obscuring much of the background in a faint haze. "I have been searching through the data on this vessel, and I have discovered two important things." Paxie nodded for it to continue. "Number One: The Earthling vessel, The Solstice, had its course artificially altered, beyond the influence of celestial bodies or the intention of the crew." Paxie blinked, but before they could ask about it— "Number Two: These Earthlings are the species self-designated as Human, currently known as the Five-Fingered Ones, from the planet Areterra."

Areterra? Paxie knew that planet.

"They're from the same planet as the Mauilen," Kime gasped.

Paxie's eyes widened.

"That's excellent news," Paxie said. They looked to Tapide and Kime. "We'll need to adjust for environmental shift, but this should mean we know their chemical biology already."

"Correct, sir," Kime said, typing eagerly on her tablet. "We'll want to run tests first, but we should know then what medicines and foods will work for them."

"Admiral," the voice said. Paxie looked to the screen again. "It would be prudent for the Federation to treat the route alteration of this vessel as sabotage."

Paxie felt almost cold to hear those words. Sabotage. But it seemed as likely as anything else. But if these Humans were from Areterra, then there was more to know here.

Areterra's biological lexicon had no example of a species like the Humans. So there was less hope that their twenty-six million year mission clock was a malfunction. And it would cause some unprecedented administrative strife, assuming it was accurate. Did it mean they were truly an orphaned species then? Perhaps it was up to if they could survive the current climate of their planet? If it truly had been so long as that? Would the Mauilen have any responsibility over them, or would these two species be treated as entirely independent? Did the Maulien have any responsibility to home the remaining Humans and the method by which they rehabilitated their numbers, or was that weight solely on the Federation?

Paxie shook their head subtly. These were not questions for a patrol admiral.

"Thank you, Weak Force," Paxie said.

"Signing off," the voice said. The feed cut, then, leaving the bridge in silence.

"This is exciting," Kime uttered. Paxie wasn't so sure. And they couldn't help but wonder how old the Skel were, and if they were or had ever been capable of sabotage like this.

"Notify Gunnery Sergeant Appi," Paxie said. "When rest is concluded, she will be to meet me in my office."

[foxgloveinspace]

this is hella random but-

if you ever want to info dump about the call of duty guys (ghost and soap i think? are those call names? soap is weird lol) please do! that ship has started popping up more and more in my feeds and now i am thoroughly intrigued. mostly because yes give me more ships with everyone suffering ptsd, but also i had no idea call of duty had any sort of plot line or recognizable characters?

i’ve played it only a handful of times and it always just seemed to me like a “create a character then join a server and shoot people” kind of game i didn’t think it had any story lol

but yeah. pls fill me in if you so desire :) i am so curious

I’m the wrong person to ask, cause I haven’t played the games yet😔🤣.

I own a couple of them, but I haven’t played yet just cause… last year I was in a weird place with video games really, is the only explanation I have. The campaigns (the plot parts) are not too long if you wanna watch them on YouTube (I also haven’t done that,,,,,, I should do that if I’m not gonna play the 2020s games, just cause I know that people where Not Happy with the last game, but I should freaking play the ogs cause they are RIGHT up my alley oof).

There’s a couple things you gotta know, if you wanna get into to it: There’s two different series of Modern Warfare, the og, which came out 07, 09, and 11. And then the remakes (which is what got the fandom So Big), which is from 2019, 22, and 23. They are, the same story told differently, and they are Very Different. The characters have very different personalities depending on the series.

(This is why I tag things as ghostsoap, or 09 soapghost so I can keep track of the different characters lol).

Ghost and Soap are their callsigns, yeah. It makes the ship names fun though! (Ghosts first name is Simon, Soap’s is John (Ghost calls him Johnny, so the fandom runs with calling him that lmao)).

Ghost wears a mask, and doesn’t have a canonical face clam! Which is really cool to me, cause we get so many different versions of Simon from the fandom🖤 and also, masked characters make brain go brrrrrr.

I am mostly in it for the fic, and there’s tones of good fanart. Not to say I don’t know anything at all, cause I have read the fandom wikis/synopsis of the games (though I’m a little rusty on my knowledge,,,, again I do want to play the games, I just.. wasn’t in a video game mood all last year). I’m just… sometimes info dumping is hard.

But yeah. The fic is freaking good. Like, I was looking for military themed romance novels the other day and I legit couldn’t bring myself to start any cause I’m worried it won’t live up to ghostsoap🤣🤣🤣.

I was gonna give some recommendations, but I uhhh…. I have realized I mostly bookmark the good smut, and only have a couple fics that aren’t smut, but they are SO ANGSTY🤣🤣🤣. And then one long fic, but it’s ghostroachsoap (roach is a player character from the first mw2).

Gosh. What can I say about ghostsoap…… they are black and red coded characters??? (Not Actually, but in the fandom way. Ghost is black, Soap is red. I don’t know if that’s even still a fandom thing lmao).

I…. I don’t know what else to say, haha.

[brb-on-a-quest]

#excuse me while I go research Jungian archetypes

no no (i mean yes please do) but allow me to infodump while i procrastinate doing actual work for that class lmaooo

So carl Gustav Jung was one of Freud's contemporaries and they were like best buds but then Freud was like "oh no my bff disagreed with me a little bit on psychosexual development and like other things and we are no longer friends and i'm leaving our psychological club that i wanted him president for" (drama king much?) (ok so it was a little bit different, exaggerations for dramatic effect so i remember this bear with me). So Carl Gustav Jung was like Augh. Fine I'll go off and Do My Own Thing then.

So a lot of his concepts of how the human person works is somewhat similar to freud (he uses a lot of the same terms unfortunately so I've taken to spelling the ones that are specifically Jung's with a J in front so its now the Junconscious, bear with me). So the Junconscious(tm) is split into two parts, one that is our Jpersonal Junconscious that is very similar to freud's in that that's where all our repressed memories and stuff goes, but there's also the Jcollective Junconscious.

The short story of the Jcollective Junconsciousness this is that basically unlike what some people think, we aren't born as a blank slate and we get all our information into our experiences but rather we get an inherited information template that is the foundation for our sensory experience to fill in the details. it's like we're born with the a very sketchy image of the world but as we develop, we color in the sketch and paint it our own very vivid experience but we all get the same initial sketch. this is where you'll find archetypes of The Mother(tm) so everyone at birth has a concept of what A Mother Is and as we grow older and more experienced to our mothers we know that "oh mothers are caring, mothers love me unconditionally OR mothers don't love me, they're volatile or <insert your own perceptions of mothers here>."

The ones that i had initially mentioned are 5 archetypes of the self so they are like the four components that everyone actually has (Animus/Anima are actually kind of the same thing). But again they're like templates of what we consider to be personality components that get filled in as we get more actual Social Exp (yay!). I'm going to go through them because This Is How I Will Learn This.

It's easier to understand (at least for me) as opposites so they kind of frame each other.

so we begin with the Persona. Persona is like a mask, it's a conglomerations of all the traits and stuff that we think are acceptable to society. it comes from the greek word for like the masks they have in the theater departments yk that tragiccomedy masks? bombass name imo).

The foil of the Persona is the Shadow. The shadow is where we stuff all of the traits of ourselves that aren't necessarily deemed acceptable for society. This is not to say the Shadow is evil, the persona is good. Jung actually thought we should get in touch with our shadow to add more depth to our Persona because if you spend too much time making yourself into bite size pieces for society to handle, you're really a superficial person and that's not helpful. That's not to say the Shadow is your True Self either because it's not but there's a process of engaging with it in a Healthy Way to make you a complete Person. Like idk best example I can come with is You Have A person with a dark sense of humor. Not everyone's going to appreciate having a dark sense of humor, but if you don't engage with your dark sense of humor sometimes you come across as feeling very fake or like you're putting on a front and not saying what you're actually thinking (?) Am i making less sense? point that im trying to make is Persona =/= angelic in Jung's eyes and The Shadow =/= sin automatically yk?

We move on. The Anima/Animus are grouped together and this is where Jung is rather Progressive for His time (really surprising actually considering how much time he spent with stupid Freud). But he believed that each human being had some elements of the other gender that they needed to learn from. Like men have a certain amount of femininity (think like sensitivity or empatheticness) and women have a certain amount of masculinity that they also needed to embody (logicness and i forget what the other term was, probably like directness or something). Basically what he's saying is "men are allowed to be sensitive and empathetic and women are allowed to be logical and direct" which yk. pretty mindblowing stuff for a culture that was very insistent on gender roles. JP2 was actually someone who was also talking about something similar by saying something to the effect of there's lessons we can only learn by watching the other gender something something" (my notes get very vauge and my professor does not use powerpoints unfortunately).

And then Finally we Have The True Self. And the way I am remembering this because I'm thinking of the self As The Avatar (only the master of all four archetypes can save the world) because that's kind of what Jung wanted. in order become most intune with ourself we had to get in touch and become aware of our masks, our shadows, and our "other gender" traits that are inherent within us to become the self. Idk I don't really have a clear definition.

Top 5 Character Archetypes. Go.

I'll be so frfr rn we just learned about jungian archetypes and I thought that's what you meant and I was like (there are only 5 of them? Side note pretty sure there are maybe more than 5 but I only need to know 5 but as a bonus content it's: self, persona, animus, shadow, anima

Top 5 character archetypes

*flashsbacks to the one year she was in highschool*

The scoundrels /aff -trickers, rebels, outlaws, but like your chaotic good genre of characters

The idiots /aff - really this on the same level as the scoundrels /aff with how much I adore them

The ppl who are so broken and bruised and wounded and yet they keep not dying and they keep choosing goodness and hope and love of self sacrifice

The ally/sidekick character - mostly bc they're the ones I will probs relate to the most lmao

I like the characters who are the most world building or relationship building ones. Give me loreeee

[heartfullofleeches]

Bugman with a Darling fixated on marine life. Bug dumps facts about their favorite creatures on them and Darling shoots back with some of their own. Bugman is delighted when Darling tells them crustaceans and insects share a common ancestor, but more over it's nice to speak to someone who shares the same spirit Bug has in bugs towards their own interests. Darling probably also shares the same fear Bug has over annoying someone with all info stored in their brains, but if they asked Bugman how they felt it would tell them to never stop talking.

Amongst the sea of insect themed merchandise, the occasional crab or lobster item appears in Bugman's bedroom long with things related to Darling's favorite animals tucked away for safe keeping. Whenever Bug sees something they know Darling would like while they're out shopping its sure to grab it for them .... If they don't keep it for themselves because of how much it reminds them of their crush-

-

Darling: Whoa :0 Cool shark painting! Did you know sharks are covered in tiny scales that are made out of the same material as human teeth? That's why their skin feels like sandpaper!.... Sorry, Bug- Got carried away, again. Am I talking to much?

Bugman, scribbling on a notepad: You say that as though it would be a bad thing. Please, continue if you feel comfortable.

-

Bugman: I am aware your birthday has yet to pass, but I came across this interesting hat I have a notion you might like. I believe it is a jellyfish.

Darling: Crazy timing- I found this real cute isopod plushie, they're kinda like giant sea bugs- So I got it for you! Like it?

Bugman: ....If this stuffed animal departs from my mortal vessel so will I from this earth.

-

Cultist Older Sister: Bugman! I see you've brought home dinner for yourself. Shall I prepare it for you?

Bugman, holding grocery bags in one arm and a live lobster in another: This is not for me. It is a pet. For Y/n.....

[sdr2lovemail]

Saw your request open for reverse 1999! I not sure what characters you do but could you do smt like troop??idk what it call but basically 'someone ask them if you two are together despite havent establish relationships yet' for medicine pocket, dikke, and tooth fairy? What their reaction and response? If it too much you can cut it down sorry

Oblivious Encounters (GN Reader)

Synopsis: These lovely arcanists are in love and it's obvious to everyone but them.

Notes: I love oblivious pining, a wonderful trope. I'm still trying to get my footing with characters, but I will write for anyone, including NPCs! She/They pronouns are used for Medicine Pocket

Requests are open!

Medicine Pocket:

Parallel play. The act of being alone together. Some people find the best way to spend time with others is to do their own thing. 

Next to you, Medicine Pocket scribbles away in their notebook. Ever since the two of you had entered Vertin’s suitcase, her documenting has gotten way more intense. There wasn’t anyone here to dampen the experiments, so Medi was thriving.

You both sit at a table near the window, the setting sun providing just enough light. It had been a few hours since either of you had spoken, finding peace in the silence. Periodically, Med would slide their notebook over for you to read. They didn’t even want any comments on their work. She just wanted to ensure you were ready for the incoming info dump they would give you. What fun is telling someone about your experiments if they’re just going to be lost the whole time?

Amid the comfortable silence, breaking the serene atmosphere, was a shrill voice.

“No! The great Matilda is never wrong, and I will prove I am correct!” The bright-eyed girl was quick with her pace, making it over to the table in just a few strides. With one hand on the table, she leans in close. “How long has this courtship gone on?”

There’s an almost comedic pause.

“What?” Medicine Pocket cocked their head.

Matilda rests her hands on her hips, tilting her head with a sly smirk. “I know a relationship when I see one. But the question is how long it’s been going on.” 

It’s Medi’s turn to smirk as they respond before you can answer. “What amazing observational skills. Now tell me, just how did you figure us out?”

“Hmhmhm! Matilda always knows! And it was so obvious.” She laughed.

“Ohhh, was it now?” Medi smiled wide, those sharp teeth on display in a wolfish grin. As you are about to correct Matilda on your relationship, the scientist kicks you under the table, itching to see how this plays out.

“The note sharing, for one. You are so stingy when it comes to sharing. Those longing silences the two of you enjoy. The way you’re always together. There is no hiding it from me!” 

You can feel your face grow warmer. Was this romantic? Did people really think that you and Medicine Pocket are together? And was that actually a problem for you?

With a laugh, Medicine Pocket shrugged her shoulders. “Huh, I didn’t think we were that obvious. You figured us out, Matilda. We’ve been courting for a few months now. Obviously, I was the one to start it. They were too flustered even to look my way.” 

“Medicine Pocket!” You chastised, face flushing further.

“See, that’s my beloved, always so embarrassed.” Medi reached over the table to take your hand in her gloved ones.

“I knew it! Vertin owes me money!” The energetic girl ran off to find the others and her new source of cash.

Pulling your hand away from the smirking doctor, you let out a groan. “Why would you tell her that? She’s going to tell everyone.”

“I wanted to see what would happen. We are practically dating anyway.” They shrugged, acting way too nonchalant.

Dikke:

Dikke enjoyed gossip. Well, not just gossiping. She enjoyed listening to others talk about anything. Hearing people engage in idle chatter was an oddly calming pastime for her. However, she couldn’t say it was truthful when the talk of the suitcase was about her. 

“Wouldn’t you like to buy your love some diamonds? I have quite the assortment. Necklaces, rings, anything that is sure to charm your lady.” 

Oh, how that scammer’s voice irked Dikke. She was about to move, wanting to read somewhere quiet, but she heard another voice. One she held dearly.

“Oh, I’m sure the selection of diamonds is… lovely. But I don’t have anyone to give jewelry to.” You answered curiously, unsure of what she was talking about.

Tennant let out a chuckle, brushing her hand against your cheek. “There’s no need to be so coy. I know the judge has stolen your heart.” She knew Dikke was watching. She wanted to rile her up and get a reaction. It would be fun to watch someone so proper get a bit angry.

Dikke rises from her seat, walking over to you and Tennant with quick steps. Her face looks more than displeased. 

“Why hello there, judge. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Tennant smirked, knowing she got what she wanted.

Her gaze practically bore through the blond woman’s body. The grip on her sword unconsciously grows tighter. “Thou should watch what drivel leaves thine mouth.” 

“My, what harsh words. Calling your own relationship drivel.” Tennant runs a single finger down your arm with a borderline mocking frown. “I would never treat you that way, dear.”

It was quick. You barely saw when it happened. Dikke swiped the hand off you in an almost uncharacteristic act of jealousy. “Perhaps thou should mind thy own affairs.” Before there could even be a response, Dikke speaks once more. “Enough of this. Leave us.” 

Figuring there was no point in taunting her further, Tennant leaves. Not without dragging her hand along your back, wanting to give Dikke one last teasing parting gift.

“I’m so sorry about that, Dikke. You know how Tennant can be sometimes.” You apologized with a sheepish smile. While you felt like you were just seeing things, her cheeks seemed slightly pink.

With the pest out of her hair, Dikke’s eyes soften slightly. “Thou shouldn’t let rumors fester. Lest they form into something more sinister.” She bows her head towards you and departs, not to finish her book but to find you a present better than diamonds.

Tooth Fairy:

“There has been an incline of cavities at the Foundation. Perhaps I’ve been handing out too many toffees.” Tooth Fairy sighed as she shuffled through her examination papers. The corners of her lips tugged down in a near-invisible frown.

Walking over to her side of the medical wing, you lean over her shoulder, taking a peek. “I doubt it’s your toffees. The kids probably aren’t brushing as often as they say. I know they lie to me about where they get their scrapes and bruises.” 

“Was that a poor attempt at making me feel better?” If it were anyone else, they probably would’ve been hurt by that comment. However, as the Foundation’s current nurse, you spend a lot of your days with the dentist. You’ve learned to discern when she’s playing around from her usual tone.

You let out a puff of a laugh, lightly shoving her shoulder. “Speaking of toffee, you wouldn’t happen to have any on you, would you?” There’s a soft smile on your face as you hold out your hand.

There was a faint sound of squeaking leather as Tooth Fairy reached into her pocket. “You’ll be the one with cavities if I continue to spoil you with candies.” She hands you a sweet despite her words. Her gloved hand lingers on yours for a second too long, dainty fingers caressing your wrist as she presses the toffee into your palm.

“But you never say no.” You smiled while unwrapping the candy. After popping it into your mouth, you start to walk out of the office. “I have to go meet with Madam Z about some paperwork. I’ll see you at lunch.”

The way Tooth Fairy watched you leave was downright pining. Her gaze locked on the doorframe. Her eyes soon lower, seeing a certain silver-haired young lady.

“Excuse me, is the nurse here?”

“Hello, Ms. Vertin. I’m sorry, they just stepped out. Is there anything I can help you with?” Tooth Fairy asked as the small child sat on one of the medical beds.

Young Vertin casts her eyes to the floor, bringing a hand up to her head. “I’ve got a terrible headache. I wanted to ask for one of their remedies.”

Tooth Fairy smiled. It was the third time Vertin came complaining about a headache this week. She knew she just wanted sweets, but she couldn’t help but humor her once again. “Well, I happen to know where they keep their medicine.”

The dentist kneeled at your desk, opening the drawer to grab from your stash of lollipops.

“Are the two of you married?” Vertin asked, her head titling curiously.

Nearly dropping the lollipop, Tooth Fairy’s eyes widen a bit. It was an innocent question, but it still made her falter. “What makes you ask that?” Quickly regaining her composure, she hands Vertin the candy.

“When I read stories, the parents in the books act the way you do. They always spend time together and give each other gifts.” Vertin explained.

Tooth Fairy sits at her desk, watching the girl unwrap her sweet. “I see. No, we are not married. We are simply work acquaintances, nothing more.” 

Vertin nods before speaking again. “You two should get married. I could be the flower girl.”

“I… will have to discuss that with them. For now, you should be getting to class.” Tooth Fairy turned back towards her papers, hoping to hide her slightly flushed cheeks.

[pandalorian36]

Spencer reid x (gn)reader

A late night working ends with the both of you falling asleep on the couch where the rest of the team find you the following morning.

Word count: 885 Warnings: none

I stifle another yawn stretching out in the chair "Do we have any more coffee?" Spencer jerks upright a sheet of paper stuck to his cheek "What?" I chuckle leaning over and removing it "Maybe we should take a break?" he nods and stands stretching pushing hair out of his face "How is it one already?" I shrug and spin around in my chair before standing "Everyone else went home at ten? I thought it had only been an hour."

He grins "Although time does appear to pass faster when you are working." I hold up a hand "Hold up brains. It is far too late...early for that. As much as I love you and your info dumps now is not the time." he chuckles "Sorry."

We make our way to the small kitchen finding clean cups and coffee. A weight drapes over my shoulders as arms snake around my waist "What happened to being professional in the workplace?" he mumbles something into my neck that sounds like "Alone."

I turn around wrapping my arms around him sighing happily "We could go home." he sighs "I want to get this done." I nod "I know so do I." he smiles pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead then my lips, I melt into his touch cupping his cheek gently "We should get back to work." he sighs kissing my cheek "Okay." grabbing the two cups of coffee in one hand and my hand in the other we make our way back to the office sitting on the sofa and dragging some of the files closer.

We spend another hour working getting almost everything complete when I decide I want to be more comfortable so bring my feet up onto the sofa leaning my head on Spencer’s shoulder. I manage another page before I can no longer fight the heaviness of my eyes. I am vaguely aware of the files falling to the ground Spencer’s head leaning against mine.

3rd person narrator

Penelope, Emily, and Derek are the first to arrive the next morning. Penelope looks over at the conference room confused "Did you guys leave the light on?"

"Y/N and Reid where going to stay late. They probably just forgot." Hotch and Rossi walk over sighing "Conference room. We've got work to do." They all make their way over Derek and Emily freezing in the doorway grinning broadly. "Oh my god."

Y/N has their head in Spencer’s lap while Spencer has an arm draped over their waist head sliding down the sofa slightly the both of them fast asleep a pile of files on the floor where they have slipped out of their hands. Garcia is quick to snap a photo while laughing "That is adorable."

Hotch clears his throat loudly startling the two sleeping agents "Good morning." Y/N scrambles to their feet "We fell asleep." Rossi chuckles "We can see that."

Reid stands up brushing fingers through his hair while Morgan laughs ruffling it up more "Bit of a bird’s nest there pretty boy." Reid swats his hand away the others taking seats around the table. Hotch has the barest smile visible on his face "So you where productive last night?"

You grin grabbing the files of the floor "Actually yes. Where's it gone?" Spencer sorts through the remaining files on the table finding the one you are looking for "Here."

"Thank you." Garcia starts giggling though quickly stops at the questioning looks from her superiors "Sorry sir." Spencer and you talk through your work while Garcia continues to grin at her computer. Rossi smiles "I suppose we shouldn't be shocked the two of you completed three days of work in a single evening."

Once we have finished going over the files Hotch takes over summarising and organising, but it doesn't take too long. Morgan grins at something Garcia shows him "You two sure looked cozy on the sofa." Spencer blushes scratching the back of his head "I think I need some coffee."

"Pump your breaks pretty boy. I think you and Y/N have something to share with the group." I feel my eyes widen as I recall going to get coffee, we forgot about the cameras. Emily and JJ grin moving around the table to view Penelope’s laptop while Spencer buries his face in his hands in attempt to hide the blush while you remain frozen in place "I knew it." Emily groans "Damn." Morgan holds out his hand "Cough up."

Rossi and Hotch both look equally confused while Spencer is now resembling a tomato. I sigh "Well the cats already out the bag. Yes, we are dating. He asked me first. It’s been nine months."

"Nine months!" Garcia whoops "I win." Hotch shakes his head slightly at the group’s antics "Just keep things professional in the workplace." If possible, Spencer turns a deeper shade of red sputtering slightly while Morgan grins broadly "I think this the first time we've seen you at a loss for words."

I stand making my way to Spencer’s side he takes my hand in his squeezing it gently. While Emily sighs "It is so obvious how did we miss it." The others start pestering us with questions, but I am glad they know. We are a family, a strange family definitely but a family none the less.

[hanyjar]

rain sucks. (i'll make you love it.)

isagi yoichi x reader

summary: your story with isagi yoichi, told through five moments, a bus stop, and rain.

notes: [6.25k words.] idk if isagi lovers still exist, but in the wise words of taylor swift: this is me trying ;)

disclaimers: cursing, reader hates the rain and likes to talk, break up with an ex (not isagi) in part one, loneliness in 'one' and four', self doubt in 'five' but isagi is quick to comfort, fluff -> angst -> fluff, rain kisses, romantic gestures, strangers -> friends -> lovers.

edit: isagi likes rain here (as opposed to the info given in the light novel T_T so very sorry ahh)

masterlist.

ONE.

It has been a bad day.

No. That’s putting it too lightly. Today, June 20th, is the very epitome of shit.

The heated argument you had with your now ex-partner continues to linger in your mind. “I think we’ve been wasting our time” plays on loop like a broken record, and you wonder if you look as lifeless as you feel.

It’s quite a silly thing: how a single person can make you feel as if the whole world is ending. It’s even sillier how you devoted all this effort into a relationship that is nothing but a waste of time to them.

Waste of time.

Even after they crushed your already tattered heart and left it for dead, you can’t help but think how much easier it would be if you feel that way about them too.

Love is a stupid, stupid thing.

You appreciate mother nature for taking pity on you, at least. Rain in the midst of summer has never been your favourite thing - the air always being a little too hard to breathe and the dreary sky a tell-tale sign that the bus is going to be late that day. But today, you feel okay towards rain. The tears from the heavens above do well to cover up your own; the droplets become friends, accompanying you in your forlorn state. For once, you don’t complain about the broken roof at the bus stop letting rain in. For once, you find comfort in the very thing you hate.

And you cry a little bit inside, knowing that your ex has managed to break that part of you as well. 

“...Bad day?” A voice breaks you free from your stupor.

You turn to your left, and you feel your breath being taken away. 

There, a stranger stands. From first glance, the boy is nothing but ordinary. His navy - almost black - hair did little to set him apart from the rest of the crowd, and he dons the same Ichinan uniform that you (and the multitude of students in the area) wear. But there is something within his cerulean eyes. A fervour of sorts, one that is begging to be unleashed for the whole world to see. To the untrained eye, he is the very essence of average; to a trained eye, the stranger is utterly beautiful.

…Or, that’s what you would say, if he didn’t look like a wet cat. Not the ones featured in those animal shampoo commercials, but one of the sad, pathetically cute, on the verge of tears, literally sopping wet ones. Your breath is taken away, simply because the boy is a mess.

You can’t help but think that this stranger has had a shit day, too.

“Like you have no idea.” You say, voice drenched in exasperation. “Though… You look like you’ve been through a nightmare yourself.”

“A nightmare is an understatement,” he cradles his left temple with his palm. You laugh at his antics.

“Try me, then. Nothing can be worse than getting dumped, right?”

The smile on his face immediately falls, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for dropping a bomb like that to a stranger. “My god.” He exhales, “I am so sorry.” His crestfallen expression makes you feel as if he truly means those words.

“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Your eyes look down to the soiled concrete. “I’ll be fine, time will pass, after all.” (You say that more to yourself than him, if anything.)

The bus stop is silent for a while, and you feel as if you’ve ruined everything - for the second time today. It’s almost as if the bus stop boy knows, and is eager to change that.

“Well. My name is Isagi Yoichi,” he begins. “And my soccer coach told me that I am mediocre at best; that I don’t have what it takes to do what I love professionally.”

You look into his eyes once more, and the fervour that was once there is now shrouded in a sense of agony you know all too well. The same agony that is, without a doubt, present in your eyes too. Words fail you. And for the years you have shrugged as the therapist friend, you find yourself at a genuine loss.

“...I guess we’re in the same boat then.” You muster out, lamely. “But are you seriously going to let some old geezer tell you what to do with your life? I mean, he’s literally the coach of a no-name highschool team.” Your hands make their way onto Isagi’s, clasping his in-between yours. “Your coach has no right to tell you that when he’s failed at that dream already. Don’t let your coach dictate your worth; don’t let him stop you from shining. Ever.”  

He stares at your hands for a second, eyes widened and mouth agape. You are quick to detach yourself from him. “Forgive me,” a sheepish smile grows on your face.” “I speak too much sometimes.”

“No need,” Isagi’s hand moves to rest on the nape of his neck. “Thank you. I needed to hear that today, I think.”

Isagi smiles boyishly. It suits him.

“It’s no problem.” You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, suddenly feeling bashful at his gratitude. “Adults like that? They think they rule the world, but in reality—”

The squeaking of tires interrupts you, and the bus arrives exactly eleven minutes late.

“That’s my cue,” you say, and for a second, you could swear that Isagi seems disappointed. You make your way towards the bus, head turning towards his way before you get on board. “Thanks for the chat, stranger. I’ll see you around.”

You make your way through the barren bus, the driver eyeing you up-and-down for your soaked figure. And just like that, uncertainty and dejection return in waves. Talking to Isagi was a good distraction and all, but you can’t forget that your partner of two years just fucking broke up with you. You are alone now.

You want nothing more than to sleep it all off. This feeling of loneliness is a type that you would not wish on anyone - even your worst enemy. (Well, maybe someone. Your ex, being the said someone. But you like to think that is just the anger talking.)

“Hey!” Isagi’s voice echoes out. Like a ray of sunlight breaking through the grey skies of your mind, it is his turn to make your eyes widen; his voice bypassing the sheet of glass separating you two and reaching the storm that surrounds your heart. “Don’t let that past relationship stop you from shining too, okay?”

…Perhaps, you aren’t so alone after all.

The bus sets off, and Isagi sees you smile at him through the rain-stricken window. The boy hopes that his sentiments have reached you; he hopes that you’ll follow the same advice that you’ve given him. 

But above all else, he hopes that he will see you again.

TWO.

“I hate this bus stop and its stupid roof.”

Isagi stops typing away on his phone. “You say that like, all the time nowadays.”

You’ve definitely sucked the life out of that phrase recently, but you take it as a good sign. An indication that you’ve healed.

The relationship that you once held dear is nothing but a mere memory of the past. The countless sleepless nights and time spent wallowing in your own self-doubt have all but ceased to exist. You realised that it simply was not worth your while to cry about a lost love, and to instead surround yourself with the love that remains from those around you. If anything, you are grateful for it: you have grown from that experience tremendously. By no means would you ever consider it to be a waste of time. And in the process?

You garnered a friend. A confidant. That break up led to the beginning of something magical. It led to a friendship with Isagi Yoichi, or, who you like to call, your bus-stop boy. 

After the fateful day, you started to notice his presence around more. At first it was in the halls of Ichinan, a mere wave shared between you two here and there. Then the new school year began, and Isagi was shuffled into your homeroom. You began seeing him from once in a while, to literally everyday.

His presence began to bleed more and more into yours, and your lives ended up intertwining together until there was nothing you could do to untangle them. Eventually? Isagi was your deskmate. He was cooking lunch for you, you two eating his homemade lunches together in comfortable silence. You began waiting for his soccer practice to finish, and Isagi would wait by your side at the station until the bus came. A rhythm that you two fell into, almost as easy as breathing.

In your chapter of new beginnings, there is no Isagi Yoichi without you, and there is no you without Isagi Yoichi. An inseparable duo, you two are dubbed as. 

You like to think you know a lot about him now. Maybe even go as far as to say you know everything about him, as he knows everything about you.

“It lets the rain in, Isagi.” You whine. “And besides, why is it even raining in Spring? Tsuyu* season isn’t for like, another month or two. There’s no way anyone could like this weather. No way.”

“I don’t know… I don’t mind it every now and then,” he says. “I like rain. I think it’s nice.”

Pause.

Well, maybe you don’t know everything about him.

“What? Since when?” You put your hand on your heart, gasping in mock-offence. “I didn’t know that I’m friends with a traitor.”

He rolls his eyes at you. The audacity. “A traitor, really? Just because I like a bit of rain here and there?”

“It goes deeper than that, Isagi!” You say. (It really doesn’t. You just want an excuse to complain a little, and a sassy Isagi Yoichi is always a fun sight.) “What’s there to like anyways? I don’t get it.”

“I can try to explain it for you, if you’d like.”

“Please do.”

“Have you ever seen what it looks like after it has rained?” He asks. You shake your head in response. You’ve never been the type to stick around long enough to see the sky stop crying. “You should. It’s wonderful, y’know: the glow it leaves afterwards. The streets look like they’ve been reborn - you can literally see the dirt on the concrete being washed away and given another life. If you’re lucky? A rainbow might come and say hi.” Isagi smiles at the little comment he makes.” That sight alone is worth getting your books wet and missing the bus every now and then. And it is just one of many reasons I have, honestly.”

You find yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. It’s cute, when he’s like this. You’re glad that he’s comfortable enough around you to show this side of himself. “I like it when you infodump, Isagi.”

“Did my infodump manage to change your mind?” A tinge of hope emerges in his voice and eyes. You shake your head. The hope is gone just as fast as it came. “Well, maybe the main reason will.”

He gives you a mysterious smile, and proceeds to say nothing.

“Aren’t you going to finish that sentence?”

“Nope, I don’t think I will.” Isagi says. You shoot him an incredulous look. “I’ll tell you… If you don’t fail your social studies paper.”

“Wha— Hey! Now that’s just being mean!”

He laughs. “So then… Why do you hate rain so much, anyways?”

“Changing the subject, really?” You say.

 He merely shrugs in response, giving you a teasing grin. “Just roll with it. I promise I’ll tell you,” he pauses. “One day.”

You kick his foot in response, making an impromptu game of footsies ensue.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Isagi lifts his hands up to the side of his head, surrendering in a fit of boyish laughter. “No but really, I’m curious. Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t really know. It’s just—“ You stick your leg out precariously, as if the rain is going to melt your foot. “I hate the rain. I always have, and probably always will.”

A lull of silence passes by - not dissimilar to the one that happened on your first meeting with him. It’s different this time, though, as it is not a silence that is born out of two strangers not quite knowing what to say. It went deeper than that, more intimate, more comforting. Isagi puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “Well,” he begins. “One day, I hope I can show you how beautiful rain can be.”

Isagi smiles - a pretty, pretty thing.

There, amongst the dreary skies and wet cherry blossom leaves, is sunlight.  Sunlight, in the form of him. Him, the Ichinan forward. Isagi, a boy who has nestled his way into your life almost too easily.

Yoichi, who leaves your heart hammering a bit too fast for comfort.

“Come on, you’re going to miss your bus.” Isagi’s hand finds its way to yours, locking into place like they were made for eachother. “It’s darker than usual. I’ll walk you home today, okay?”

He drags you towards your usual window seat, tapping the two matching keycards you share while entering. Isagi whispers a quick goodnight as he sits on the seat next to yours.

A smile makes its way towards your lips. Warmth filling up your entire body, entire soul. 

You adore his sleeping face; you adore him.

Wait. Adore? Uh oh, you think. I might be falling in love.

*Tsuyu: The rainy period in Japan, generally spanning from May to July. The direct translation is ‘plum rain’, because it coincides with the season that plums ripen in Japan.

THREE.

Isagi is the first one to break the silence.

It’s weird, how he called you out to the bus stop out of the blue. Meeting together here in the past was always out of necessity: one born from a desire to go home and to have a chat with your best friend to end the day on a high note. Never, is the meeting at your sanctuary intentional, like it is now.

You couldn’t help but rush to get here. Not when he texted you like that: frantic and brimming with urgency.

“Sorry for making you come all this way, especially at this time of the night.” He says, carefully. As if he is tiptoeing around eggshells. Like you are strangers again. Isagi is never this careful around you, and hasn’t been for a while now. The change of pace perpetuates fear into the depths of your soul like no other.

“It’s fine.” You tentatively look up from your lap, preferring to look at the night sky instead of his face. I’d do anything for you, when you text me like that. “It’s just… Your message; the tone you’re speaking to me in right now. You’re seriously worrying me, Isagi.”

Isagi lets out a sigh, one quivering with nerves and worry. He places a hand onto your clenched ones, rubbing comforting circles onto the dorsal side. That’s weird. You didn’t even realise you were shaking. “You know that letter from the Japan Football Association I got a few days ago? The one we were so excited about?” 

“The one I forced you to accept, right?”

“That’s the one.” He smiles fondly at the memory. The one of the two of you in his room, him being at an absolute mental blank, while you - the ever-so lovely you - was crying tears of joy - a stark contrast to the tears you shed earlier that day, watching him lose the qualifiers. You egged him to accept it, because ‘nothing would make you happier than to see him pursue his dreams’, you said. Words that sent an elation of joy to flood across his body, for he didn’t think that he could love you more. “…Well, I went to that address they gave us today. And that letter didn’t exactly tell the whole story. Of what it is, what their goal is.” Isagi continues; you feel a lump beginning to form at the back of your throat. “Yes, it’s a player improvement project. But I have to stay at this camp, I think. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying there, and I can’t contact anyone that’s not a part of it either. All I know is that it starts tomorrow. Officially.”

“What…” You muster out, at a complete loss for words.

“It’s called Blue Lock, and I’m going for it.” He places his unoccupied hand onto his chest, eyes igniting with a kindred spirit like no other. “I think this is my best shot at becoming the best. To play beyond a national level, and make you proud. But…” He pauses, pinching your chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. “I won't go if you don’t want me to. I won’t, and will never do anything that you don’t like. So just say the word, and I’ll stay. Right here, right by your side.”

It hurts so damn bad. All of this, how it is so out of the blue, how there’s a possibility you may never see the boy, who has been such a pivotal aspect of your life for the last year or so, ever again. You want to be supportive - heck, you’d go to war just to see Isagi shine. But it hurts. You love him, for goodness sake. Every bone in your body wants him to stay, to not break the sacred normalcy that you have shared with the man that makes you smile brighter than anyone else can.

But the skies are clear. And the right answer, the solution to all of this, is even clearer.

“You’d have to be stupid to not go.” You say, voice unwavering with confidence. However, your eyes are anything but. “You have to go, Isagi. I don’t want to destroy your dreams like that and ruin the potential you have. I could never live with myself if I made you stay.”

Isagi kisses you on the forehead, once. “Thank you,” Twice. “Thank you, so much.” He leans his forehead against yours, and his teary ones meet your equally watery ones. “I’m going to miss you more than anything. I promise, I’m going to become number one. Just for you.”

“You better.” You chuckle, choking on a sob. “Shine brighter than anyone else, Isagi. I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”

He nods in response, and you stay like that for a while. For minutes, hours, even. Foreheads kissing each other, and staring into his cerulean eyes like it’s the last time you’ll ever see them.

“I never told you the reason, didn’t I?” Isagi breathes out.

“What?”

“The reason why I love rain as much as I do.” He says. You let out a careful no, wondering if he did tell you, and you just weren’t listening.

“It’s because,” Isagi begins, reaching for your right hand and opening it, palm facing up. “It was raining when I met you.” You feel him reach for his back pocket, and Isagi pulls out a pristine white envelope, placing it into your hand. It is sealed with red wax and decorated with golden swirls. Beautiful. Like it came right out of a fairytale. “…And you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your body quivers, and you feel the tears threatening to return again. “You’re so corny,” you say, half-flustered and half-shy. “And I still hate the rain.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, looking at his lips in a way that just friends don’t. “But Isagi, you. You are the best thing that’s happened to me too.”

He looks at your lips too, and you anticipate for something more - to go beyond what you two have built so beautifully. To go beyond friends, and transform into lovers.

Isagi pulls you in for a tight hug instead. You reciprocate. Those thoughts disappear as fast as they came. 

“So..” You clench the letter tight within your hands, and you cringe at the feeling of droplets meeting your shoulder. (Truth is, you didn’t know if you were cringing at the fact you wished he had kissed you, or if it is the impending sky-fall. You choose to believe the latter.) “Do I open it now?”

He pulls away from the hug first, and smiles, embarrassment painting his features. “I’d prefer it if you read it later.”

The droplets fasten, quicker and quicker, and Isagi pulls you closer to him, putting you out of the rain’s way. “Oh come on! It has to rain now, out of all times?” You heave a great sigh, burying your head into the nape of his neck.

“It gives us an excuse to stay here for a little while longer, doesn’t it?” He gives you puppy dog eyes. 

“As much as I’d love to stay with you all night, it’s getting late,” you say, laughing inwardly. “I don’t want to worry your parents. Actually— have you even told your parents about Blue Lock yet?”

He shakes his head. “No, I wanted you to be the first one to know.”

How sweet. “Then you should hurry home,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t hold you up.”

“You sure?” Isagi holds your hands tighter than before. I don’t want to leave you yet, his eyes scream.

“I’m sure.” You squeeze his hands in response. I don’t want to let you go either, your eyes say.

Isagi leans in once more, bumping your noses together, eyes meeting in a silent agreement. But we have to. And we’ll be okay.

“Promise that you won’t forget me?”

“I could never.”

And so he goes. But you stay. You remain seated, sheltered beneath the shoddy bus-stop. A sense of déjà vu passes, it’s just like all those times before. But it’s almost painful this time. Your bus-stop boy is walking away from you, instead of seeking shelter alongside you. You laugh at yourself, bitterly. You don’t know if you’ll ever move on from him, or if you even want to. Not when your forever-person has pried his way into your heart like this, not when Isagi feels like home.

You pry the wax seal off the letter, unfolding the paper that is encased inside in a hurry, a tinge of excitement coursing through your veins.

‘I still haven’t shown you the beauty of rain.  Will you wait for me? Love, Isagi.’

A laugh escapes your lips. Of course you would. You’d wait forever, and forevermore for him. He didn't even have to ask. It’s something that you would’ve done as one would breathe air. And in a way, you realise that there’s a certain calamity to your circumstance. 

You love him so much that you’d willingly let Isagi tear down everything you’ve ever known. Whether it may be something silly like your animosity towards rain, or the idea of letting someone love you again. You’d let him do it all.

And that is terrifying. But exquisitely so.

A barrage of steps sounds itself out in the quiet of the night, a figure making its way to you - closer, closer, and closer. Oh god, someones not trying to kill me, are they?

Then you see a familiar sight. A boy with his hair in disarray, black outerwear soaking wet, looking just like the wet cat from your first meeting but this time more mature and more determined, and suddenly he’s pulling you into the rain with him, grasping onto your shoulders, locking his eyes onto yours and oh. He’s kissing you on the lips now. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t leave without kissing you first. I think I’d go crazy if I didn't.”

“I think I’d go crazy too,” you chuckle, resting your head against his chest. “And yeah. Of course I’ll wait for you, dummy.”

“You opened it already?”

“I can’t wait to see how you’ll make me love rain.”

…You should’ve known he would’ve given you that kiss first.

Isagi is not the type to leave you disappointed for too long, after all.

FOUR.

The days seem to blur together in Isagi’s absence. 

The last year or so was, for a lack of a better word, lonely. Filled with rumours that you drove your best friend mad and he ran away, or that you murdered Isagi and the police have yet to discover his body, you felt as if the only people in your life for the last few months were your family and Isagi’s parents.

The sudden isolation is getting to you. And you know it. It shows in the dreariness of your demeanour; bears its teeth in the darkening eye bags that have crept their way onto your face. You’re not certain that he will be able to recall your face anymore. Heck, you can’t recognise yourself anymore either. Gosh, who would’ve thought that being Isagi-less for a little while would do this to you?

But today brings something new to the table: hope. Confirmation that all of this waiting has been worth it after all. You’ll get to see him in an hour or two come morning, and it will be enough.

 Or, at least, that's the timeframe you predicted last night. 

“There have been reports of mass delays in the Saitama Public Transport Network due to heavy storms and rainfall. Civilians can expect their regularly scheduled buses and trains to be postponed for up to two hours or more—“

You throw a pancake at your TV and scream.

The what-would-be one hour trip to Tokyo is now possibly three, and since your butter fingers slipped and set the wrong alarm last night, you are already running late. 

You just hope that Isagi���s parents are still waiting for you outside.

Ding!

You reach into your pocket for your phone, and a message from Isagi’s mother illuminates the screen.

‘Sorry, Honey. We left already. Issei is worried that the traffic is going to hold us up from getting to Tokyo in time.’

Great. Just great.

It seems as if the universe is practically begging for you to not see Isagi today. But after not seeing him for months - not even a hi, hello, or a single sign that your Isagi is safe and sound - you only have one thing on your mind. 

Screw the universe. I need to see him. Screw it all.

You chuck on a pair of navy converses, making your way towards the bus stop that started it all. The streets are busier nowadays. With various roadworks and several shops getting renovations left and right. However, the one location that you know like the back of your hand remains abandoned, frozen in time, almost. Still on its last leg, with a leaky roof and ivy adorning the wooden frame.

The seats have grown moss on them from the increase in rainfall nowadays. And so you choose to stand instead - quietly observing the pouring downfall, thoughts running amok.

It’s almost scary, how time has simultaneously been impetuous and sluggish lately. And you know it ties back to Isagi. It always does. You haven’t seen the boy in ages, actually. And that, in itself, is an understatement. It isn’t in the 'two weeks off school’, or the ‘we haven’t talked since summer break’ way, but in an ‘I’m honestly forgetting your face since it is now a new spring without you’ way. 

…You don’t think you’ll have the heart to ever tell him that.

There is one thing that scares you more, though. And that's in the way that you’re forgetting how Isagi looks when he wears his smile. Does his lips curve upwards or downwards? Do his eyes turn into half-moons when he’s happy or does he bear his cerulean eyes for everyone to see? All of these are questions that invade your mind during sleepless midnights. Questions, that you never thought you would ask at all.

You can only hope that his smile is better than you can imagine. That he glows radiantly like he does in the fragments that appear in your memory every once in a while. Will happiness look good on him? Will it feel like a shame that you’ve been missing out on it all this time?

Maybe that’s the real reason why you’re worried that Isagi won't remember you: because you can hardly recall his face yourself. As in, truly, know what he looks like. You know Isagi from the blurry photos on your phone taken at 3AM sleepovers, and the display frames lined around his family’s home. The big picture itself is easy to see. The little things - the quirks of his that made you fall - have been much harder to recall.

But you do remember a few things. Arguably, the most important ones.

Your love for him; Isagi’s promise. The way he kissed you like he needed you to live; the way you cried for him amongst the skyfall.

The way Isagi taught you that it’s okay to love. 

And it’s okay to be loved back.

For now, that is enough.

Droplets continue to batter against your woollen jumper, the rain drenching your entire being. It soaks your hair, makes the knuckles on your clenched fists a light violet, disguises the tears falling down from your face. The rain is ever so violent, leaving a mess of you in its wake. For the second time in your life, you let the rain do as it pleases. You let it destroy the outfit you meticulously planned, wreak havoc on the converses Isagi gave to you on your birthday. All in hopes that it will eventually cleanse your soul. Cleanse the pain, the happiness. Wipe the slate clean, as the rain does with the pavement, until you are reborn from the ashes and live a life where you aren’t so, irrecoverably in love with your best friend.

But you know, deep down, it will never save you from your calamitous love. That even if you are reborn, one word will remain in your heart. One, sacred word that you keep like an oath. 

Promise.

You wonder if Isagi remembers his promise in the same way that you do. 

It’s the only reason why you are going to the game today, after all.

Your hands loosen from the fist you’ve been keeping this whole time, deep crescent moons adorning the insides of your palm. A slip of paper flurries out from your hand - swishing with the wind in a way that a feather would. It dances around, until it lands in the puddle that has formed beneath your feet.

Shit. The ticket.

You bend down and clutch a now-soaked sheet of paper in your palm, tiny inscriptions that adorned the sheet now bleeding together. The only thing now visibly readable being: ‘JAPAN’S U20 VS BLUE LOCK’.

Rain really, really sucks.

(You’ve never hated it more.)

The bus finally arrives amidst the downpour.

(Yet, for some reason, a small part of you is excited to see the rainbow that comes after the storm.)

FIVE. 

Isagi has always loved the rain.

Ever since he was a young boy, the rain has always had a certain allure that captivated him more than most. In his eyes, puddles held miniature worlds within them, with pebbles acting as land formations and stray twigs imitating people. Enchanting. Raindrops race each other down window panes, with him as an eager viewer. Simply spellbinding. However, nothing has ever beat the feeling of playing soccer amongst the rainfall. The feeling of watching the opponents around you struggle to run in the mud, as you calculate the best direction to head in; pieces of grass decorating your cleats in the aftermath like a badge of honour. Getting sick afterwards is a simple price to pay if it means transforming the pitch into a battlefield. Rain makes the game something to remember.

It’s the duality of rain that makes Isagi treasure the phenomenon dearly; rain can be simultaneously beautiful and destructive at the same time. Which, shockingly to him, is the very same fact that makes you despise it so much.

Your face appears within his mind. Isagi smiles.

Ah yes, you.

The person who despises rain more than anything else in the world. Who groans at the slightest hint of darkening clouds, and acts as if drizzle is akin to acid rain that will obliterate everyone in an instant.

Nowadays, media outlets constantly poke and prod into your relationship with one another as Isagi’s reputation grows - at a speed only fathomable in his wildest dreams - wondering how he can love you so much when the two of you are so different in every sense.

“…They just don’t understand,” he said to you on a day where it was all too much. “They’ll never understand how you’ve changed my life, is all.”

“Me? The person who nearly forgot you? Who doubted you and thought that you would’ve forgotten about them too?” You angrily clenched your head. “I don’t see how you’ve forgiven me so easily for that.”

“I told you already,” he began. “When I was gone I had the same thoughts as you. I forgot you for a bit, too. I doubted you, as well. I could never hold that against you, because I did the same, and– and… I regret it everyday; I know you regret it too.” Isagi inhaled sharply. “But at the end of the day, we both remembered the promise. And that’s enough.”

“…Right. I’m sorry, Yoichi.” Your eyes locked with his through the gaps between your fingers. “I love you so much, y’know that?”

“I know.” He grabbed your left hand, giving it a swift kiss. “I love you more, infinitely.”

Isagi cherishes you like he is a marauder and you are the finest jewel; he looks at you like you’re the only person who ever matters. And that’s true. Because to him, you are. With the countless sacrifices you’ve made for him; sticking by his side every step of the way; waiting and waiting for years; being the brunt of scrutiny from the media - heck - even your peers in high-school prior to his Blue Lock debut, Isagi is unsure if he will ever be able to repay you for all that you’ve done.

…But he does have an idea on where to begin.

Isagi averts his attention to the sights outside the bus window. He wonders why the rain is extra pretty today. The beauty of the raindrops seem otherworldly currently - a cascade of water flowing down overflowing gutters, iridescent hues lining the streets that he grew up on, children jumping into puddles with no care in the world. The rainy downpour from the heavens above seems unfaltering - even against the brilliance of Saitama’s lights. And amidst the hustle and bustle - adults finding their way into comforting warmth - there is you. Waiting in the rain for him underneath the bus stop, face twisted in discomfort, twirling the umbrella in your hand round and round.

It is no coincidence that the rain is so charming today.

No. 

It’s prettier, because of you.

Always, you.

His sweetheart of many years.

“Hey, stranger.” You greet him as Isagi steps outside of the vehicle he practically grew up on, ushering him underneath the umbrella you brought with you.

You, who he loves more and more everyday.

“Hey yourself.” His eyes twinkle with mirth as he takes the umbrella from your hands. “It’s been a long time since we were both here, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Your face lightens up with the smile that he loves so much. “To think the last time we were here together was when…”

He looks into your eyes, face erupting with a mix of his boyish smile and laughter. “...When I kissed you. Yeah. I don’t think I could ever forget that night.”

The look on your face tells Isagi that neither could you. 

“Even though we’ve had countless other kisses since then, that one is still my favourite, y’know?” Your hands move up to cup his face within your palms. “Yoichi, you don’t do romantic things like that anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You stick your tongue out at him.

Isagi lets go of the source of shelter you are sharing, and lets it drift away with the wind. “Hey! We’re gonna get soaked!” You turn your back towards him, hands desperately trying to catch the stray umbrella that seems to be more than happy to escape. “C’mon Yoichi! What was that for?” 

“Turn around for me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” He says, a smile evident in his words.

Isagi sees you gasp, the sight of him knocking the wind from your chest. 

There he is, kneeling with his right knee down to the floor - pants getting soaked from the wet concrete below. And in his outstretched hands, lays a small, black velvet box, a diamond ring embedded within its centre.

“Will you marry me?” Isagi asks, starry-eyed. Voice soft and vulnerable.

One day came, and now you know Isagi is right.

Rain can be beautiful.

EXTRA.

“Hey, Isagi. What’s the date today?”

“June 20th. Why?”

“No reason,” a small grin makes its way to your face. “Just curious.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for “yes, and”-ing the idea that I’ll divorce my husband?

I (32F) married my husband (35M) thirteen years ago. We have three kids and I thought everything was going fantastically well for us both. And then just last month we ran into “the one that got away.” Let’s call her Agatha (35F). Agatha was polite about meeting me, but didn’t stick around, basically went “hi, nice to see you, nice to meet you, gotta go.” My husband seemed agitated, but I didn’t think much of it. I didn’t know about her being the one that got away then.

We ran into her again on our regular date night, which was suspicious in hindsight. My husband insisted on this specific restaurant that neither of us liked much, and I went with it because it seemed so important to him, but lo and behold, Agatha was there with some friends!

My husband dragged me over to talk to them and, while they were all pleasant company, he kept trying to get Agatha to leave the table with him and she was like “no” each time, getting more and more blunt the more times he asked. Finally, and I can’t believe he did this, he leaned in to try to whisper in her ear and the guy sitting next to her grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him back. Turns out Agatha’s been married for seven years and neither of them have been pleased with the texts he’s been sending her.

I asked her what the hell she was talking about and she grabbed her phone out of her purse and showed me. I was shocked and FURIOUS. He’s been blatantly flirting with her, even when she reminds him that he’s married and outright told him to stop! And THAT was how I found out she was “the one that got away,” which didn’t feel great!

Agatha then turned to one of the guys at the table, Randy (probably 40-something M), and asked what his ex’s divorce lawyer’s name was, because with the amount Randy complained about her, she’s got to be good at her job. The rest of the table laughed, with the guy sitting next to Randy (Eddie, around the same age as Randy I think) elbowing him in the ribs, and Randy rolled his eyes and said he’d find it.

This is where I may be TA. I leaned forward a bit, because I’d dolled myself up and the girls are some of my best assets, and asked if that meant he was single. That got the table laughing again and Randy was like “no, remarried, sorry” and Eddie was like “I’m single, feel free to look me up once you get divorced.” Eddie had really nice eyes and I have a weakness for those, so I started bantering with him about the dates we could go on once I dumped my husband. The table was laughing along with us and egging us on, and I was having fun, so it wasn’t until my husband slammed his hands on the table that I even remembered he was there and could hear us.

My husband and I left together, because we came in the same car, and he was FUMING. I was also pissed at him for the flirting, so I gave and am still giving him the silent treatment, but looking back, maybe talking to another man about our future dates right in front of him was a bit too far.

I’m still divorcing him, but AITA for talking about the dates I want to go on once I’ve dumped him in front of him?

What are these acronyms?

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Bucktommy prompt: Buck finds out Tommy D&D (and is a pretty big nerd overall)

Hope you like it!

"Hey Ev, I know we were planning on date night on Friday, but is there any way we can raincheck it?" Tommy asked.

Buck was a little surprised. "Of course. Is everything okay? I checked our calendars and Friday was open for both of us. Did you pick up a shift or something?"

"No, nothing like that," Tommy replied. "There's this monthly first responder thing that I try to go to, and I've missed the past few months."

"Oh yeah? What kind of first responder thing? Another sport? Poker?" Buck asked, curious.

"Uh, not quite," Tommy said, blushing slightly. He mumbled, "It's Dungeons and Dragons."

"Wait? You play Dungeons and Dragons?" Buck said grinning at Tommy like he was the cutest thing in the world.

"Uh, yeah," Tommy replied, looking a bit sheepish. "It was sort of my escape as a kid. I would come up with these elaborate quests, and it was just so much better than being the awkward closeted gay kid. That and comic books were kind of all I had," Tommy admitted, his voice softening as he shared this piece of his past.

Buck's expression shifted from amusement to understanding, his eyes filled with warmth. "Tommy, that's... that's really cool. I had no idea you were into that stuff."

Tommy shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly something I advertise. But it's still a big part of who I am, you know?"

"I get it," Buck said, reaching out to squeeze Tommy's hand. "Thanks for sharing that with me. So, tell me more about this first responder D&D group. How did that even start?"

Tommy chuckled, seeming more at ease now. "Well, I've only been a part of it since I started at Harbor. I guess when I started there, I came out not only as gay but also as a giant nerd," he laughed.

Buck joined in the laughter, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I love that. It's like you got to be your whole self all at once."

"Yeah, it felt pretty good," Tommy admitted. "The guys at Harbor were surprisingly cool about both things. Turns out, there were a few other closet D&D fans at the station."

Tommy's expression grew more serious for a moment. "It's definitely not something I would've admitted at the 118 with Captain Gerrard in charge. And after my dad's reaction when he found out... well, let's just say it wasn't great, to say the least. I learned pretty quickly to keep that part of myself hidden too."

Buck's face softened with understanding. "I'm sorry you had to hide that part of yourself for so long. But I'm glad you found a place where you can be open about it now."

Tommy nodded, a small smile returning to his face. "Me too. It's nice to finally feel like I can be my whole self, you know?"

"I do know," Buck said, squeezing Tommy's hand. "And for what it's worth, I think your nerdy side is pretty cute."

Tommy's face lit up at Buck's words. "Thanks, baby," he said, a warm smile spreading across his face. "And maybe someday I can help you learn about it. Maybe even help you create a character," he added, his eyes twinkling with excitement at the prospect.

Buck grinned, clearly charmed by Tommy's enthusiasm. "You know what? I'd like that. And you've already met my inner nerd – the one who loves to watch documentaries and info dump about random facts."

Tommy chuckled, nodding in agreement. "That's true. And I love you for it, by the way. Your excitement when you're sharing some obscure fact is one of my favorite things about you."

Buck's cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. "Well, then maybe it's time I embraced my nerdiness fully. Who knows? Maybe I'll discover a hidden talent for D&D."

"Oh, I have no doubt," Tommy said, pulling Buck into a hug. "With your imagination and your love for details, you'll probably end up being the dungeon master before you know it."

Buck smiled brightly and somehow found himself falling even more in love with this man who could be both a brave firefighter pilot and an enthusiastic D&D player. It was just another reminder of the many layers that made up Tommy Kinard, and Buck was grateful for the chance to discover each and every one of them.

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

oh boy it's done! Sorry this chapter is mostly exposition and info-dumping nothing fun is really happening here. Thank you guys for the comments I loved reading them!

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major)

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, this is part 3, part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reader's stomach turned but they tried to take even breaths.

This was ridiculous there was no evidence or proof. The manhunt was the most solid counterargument. If they were the Creator they would not have been hunted. Reader folded their hands and looked challengingly at Nahida. Try to prove it.

Nahida must have understood so she continued to talk.

"I admit I was confused at first I had assumed it was Reader who got the blessing as they had previously been able to control the acolytes, yet I was wrong. Due to Darling always controlling the vessels most of the time and due to the current Creator's presence being so weak even I managed to mix it up and I apologize for that."

She looked over at Reader with sincerity it made Reader uncomfortable enough to shift on their seat, and then she did the unimaginable, she stood up and bowed.

"Please don't I am not some creator you don't have to bow!" Reader said and jumped out of their seat.

Nahida stopped and looked over at Reader with a sorrowful expression.

"Your grace it is only fair, this was long overdue."

"No! you are wrong it still makes no sense it made more sense when it was Darling!"

"You may deny it but the more I spent with you, the closer I was with you, the clearer I felt it, your powers yet small like a budding seed are still there."

Shit she even brought up an allegory, is she being serious. From their peripherals, they could see Darling's uncomfortable expression. Reader pinched the bridge of their nose and exhaled.

"I don't feel any different though and there is so much wrong with that. I am not some creator."

Reader wanted to get up and sleep their hands felt twitchy and there was something buzzing in their skin. They needed to get out.

"Reader y'know have you. . . checked your blood yet?"

It was the first time Darling spoke in a while.

"What do you even mean, it's been red my whole life? Heck, you have seen me bleed multiple times as kids."

"I know, I know but maybe things changed when you entered this world when you were. . . you know hunted down," she quieted down at the last part, "D-did. . . you bleed?"

"N-no," Reader wrung their hands together," not really I got help from the monster and hilichurls with running away,"

Nahida made a sound of protest at hearing Reader's statements and looked down in guilt. There was a tense silence lasting only for a few seconds Reader just knew what Darling was about to say.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to check hey!-"

Reader jumped up and strode towards the kitchen cabinets taking out a knife.

"Y-your grace please wait-"

It was the first time Reader had heard Nahida stutter usually the Archon was so well-spoken and eloquent. Was it another thing she had to learn trying to fit the mold of the Archon of Wisdom?

"I have cut myself plenty of times when I first learned to cook it won't hurt."

They bought a knife towards the thumb and sliced it.

Clank.

The knife fell-

With it, golden blood fell down the floor as well.

Shit.

"Shit," Darling said.

Nahida sucked in a sharp breath.

"Your grace, please give me your hand we can't leave that be."

The Archon hurried over and opened her palms, their body moving in auto-mode as they crouched down and took Nahida's hand. Feeling what Reader thought was a small burst of dendro energy their small cut healed instantly. Nahida looked even more relieved than Reader was when the cut was healed.

Reader for the most part stood dumbfounded on the kitchen floor while Nahida watched them worriedly.

"Reader, are you okay. . .?"

"Darling what the," they paused looking at Nahida's small form," Do I do?"

"I think you should sit down first," Darling replied with a worried look.

For the second time, all three sat on the kitchen table this time for different reasons.

The weight of the revelation was a heavy burden and Reader wondered what Darling felt wearing that title. They neither wanted nor needed such a burden. Reader scowled.

"Hey Reader I've been thinking," Darling paused and looked unsure, "Do you think. . . This happened because you created my account?"

"Huh? Wait what," They paused thinking for a second, "That might actually make sense. . ."

Reader looked at Darling as if she had just solved their entire life mystery. Nahida looked at the two with confusion.

Right.

"Well, this is going to be hard to explain."

"It is alright by me take your time your grace."

Reader tried not to grimace at being called "your grace", they swallowed and held their hands together. They tried to explain what a phone and computers were and then what video games were until they took a deep breath and admitted that Genshin Impact was a game as well. Nahida remained still and took it all in rather well, Reader wondered how someone would feel if they said that the reality you live in was just a video game. When they came to that part Nahida looked contemplative a finger was put against her mouth as she was thinking. Reader thought about what the Archon of Wisdom could possibly think of in a situation like this.

"So our world was a so-called 'video game' in your world."

"Yeah it's uhh, sorry it's kind of messed up," said Darling with a Grimace.

Reader agreed all they could do was play with their hands as they waited for Nahida's reply. Maybe she'd think they were lying or both had lost it. The whole thing sounded ridiculous when they said it out loud.

"I think I get the gist of it."

"R-really you believe us?"

Nahida looked at Reader and nodded.

"This is not the first time that stories or in your case a 'video game' was made by a dream from another universe."

"Wait what," Reader stared dumbly at Nahida.

"Dreams can sometimes garner insight into other realities while it is rare it can happen, I assume the ones who made the 'video game' called Genshin Impact simply dreamed of Teyvat."

Reader put a hand on their head and tried to understand what Nahida was saying, it still sounded unbelievable even after entering this world. nonetheless, Nahida continued

"Other people playing this 'video game' should not be able to have affected Teyvat except when it comes to your grace, the Creator. Later on, you made this account, as you called it, could count as authority being handed over to Darling or a form of blessing which made Darling be able to control acolytes. The device you used  in this case acted as a medium between two realities."

"O-Ohh. . . I am, I don't know what to say."

"This is mostly me guessing I can't say for sure if what I said is right, communicating between realities is extremely hard if not impossible but when it comes to your grace anything is possible," she said with a smile.

Seeing her smile Reader tried to relax a bit, stuff like this went over their head. Metaphysics was not their strong point. Reader rubbed their head.

"I don't get it but it also makes sense. . ." they paused, "also please just call me by my name I like to think we are friends now. . ."

Nahida looked at them with wide eyes but nodded with a happy smile.

"It is an honor and I like to think so too, Reader."

Reader smiled at hearing their name again from Nahida and the mood felt relaxing again. Reader suddenly felt exhausted the rain in the background lulling them. Nahida must have picked up their mood as they began to speak.

"This has been an exhausting day with many revelations, like a Snezhnayan doll we keep finding more dolls inside the ones we already opened."

"You know I am glad to hear you still speaking analogies."

"I am not sure why it does," she leans her head to the side," but if it makes you happy I am glad then."

Reader smiled at her.

"I think for now Darling should come back with me there is a guest room we could use, tomorrow will be a long day unfortunately I suggest we all try to get as much rest as we can."

Readed nodded and looked at Darling. Reader who hadn't talked to Darling in a long while before this day was a bit worried they knew Darling was usually not this quiet and well, demure. Where they were sitting they looked. . . Defeated.

Darling tried to look at them but they looked away, they knew what they would ask for. They did not want to or had no energy to entertain a sleepover with them. There was still much stuff unresolved on Readers part between them.

A cruel part of them was happy that they were hurting. Reader was hurt so Darling should hurt a bit too- they shut that part down. They did not want to indulge in cruel thoughts, They did not want to become someone cruel.

They had seen what cruel people were capable of.

Nahida bid farewell and took Darling with her. Reader said goodbye to the two and cleaned up the kitchen. Afterward, they headed to the bed.

They left the window open letting the breeze come in. A bird suddenly swooped in standing in the window sill looking at them curiously. Reader stared at the bird as well.

 

"Did you know?"

The bird did not answer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc

[distardre]

julance week 1: broadsword

feel free to read whoever's interested is a small info dump about swords bc i went down a rabbit hole of sword classification when i looked up a broadsword LOL

disclaimer that if you are a sword expert and i got anything wrong i am sorry, i am a measly english major who dropped out of his history course and got all this information off of comparing appropriately 20 quora posts and two random sword classification websites

(also i may be an english major but english is not my first language so sorry if the x edged blade, y hilted sword is not the way it is grammatically correct)

okay so basically nowadays the most mainstream sword among fantasy media and D&D and stuff is the broadsword HOWEVER that is not actually what the broadsword is; what is used in games, tv, etc is most commonly the arming sword (a double edged blade, cross hilted sword, intended for single hand use)

the broadsword is generally a double edged blade, basket hilted sword which's blade is wider than that of a rapier, it is intended for single hand use (hence the guarding of the hand at the hilt), and more or less is a double edged version of a backsword; it can also be referred to as a claymore (which however has also been used for the longsword in the past)

however, in the broader historical context (haha funny pun), a broadsword is literally that, a broad sword, or in other words a sword broader than a contemporary one at a given time

then we have the longsword, generally a double edged blade, cross hilted sword intended for two hand use, but can be wielded with one hand if the situation is fitted

however, we also can use the term longsword as its semantical meaning, a long sword or in other words, a sword longer than a contemporary one at a given time

then we have for example the great sword which is similar in shape to the longsword however really long, like up to the size of the person wielding it and the hilt has space for three hands and it's also fairly heavy; i saw one person refer to it as a sword shaped polearm which i found quite funny

uhhh yea okay i think thats all i have to say

i would just like to add the little detail of the fact that sword classifications are a modern thing, people back in the day would just call any sword a sword, they might use long sword and broad sword in their semantic sense but other than that they were just swords

it was with the rise of fantasy media and their focus on the middle ages that swords became misclassified too with the arming sword becoming so popular under the wrong name

moral of the story: sword classification is really confusing :)

here is the quora post i found most interesting, and pretty much all of its information checked out with others i read, if anyone wants a (admittedly way) more comprehensive explanation than mine!

[moralesmilesanhour]

Miles 1610 dating headcanons!

Hi! I realize that I've done general dating hcs for Miles 42 but not for our Miles, so once again I am balancing them out 👍🏾

Oh babey this guy is so sheltered. The scope of options for a date night do not include anywhere farther than five blocks from his house and do not extend past 8pm but he makes them fun trust me I prommy

Miles knows he can trust you when he can info dump about some obscure anime from the early 2000s that is now only available on DVD and not feel weird about it

A million studies of your face in his sketchbook. You know the drill

Sends links to songs he thinks you'd like to see if he can accurately predict your music taste based on observation

Remembers oddly-specific things you've said around him about shows or movies you like

King of Banter!! Master of The Bit!! Flirting is awkward but funny enough that the awkwardness is ignored

Memorized your most common purchases from the bodega and has a bag containing it in his hand every morning before school like clockwork

You give him hair product recommendations, he gives you anime recommendations. Very favorable deal if you ask me

Will not hesitate to "Well actually 🤓" you if you say something scientifically inaccurate. He has since had to tone this down since asking you out but old habits die hard

-

These aren't much sorry sdfghjk but I hope you enjoyed them! (psst-If you're reading this on desktop, click on the link beneath miles for a pleasant surprise! [this is safe :) i promise])

[peachesancreams]

Expanding on the Wives

everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~

Alastors wife

Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)

They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?

They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.

They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.

Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.

Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?

When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.

They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.

Now for the second and remembered meeting!!

Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.

It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.

Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.

"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."

Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.

He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.

Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.

Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!

They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.

Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.

She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.

Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.

Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.

It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.

They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.

Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.

Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?

[partywithoutsmiling]

Some musing on the Wanderer!Branch AU

(Okay, bit of a chaotic lore dump incoming, as this is probably the first time I am putting it to words)

Okay, important info first:

I headcanon it that Branch- and thus the other Brozone bros- are half-pop half-rock in their herritage; this headcanon is an old one, ever since World Tour dropped, and honestly only supported by the fact that Total Eclipse of the Heart that Branch sung as trolling is considered a Pop Rock song XD But hey, one doesnt need to have many reasons to make headcanons pff

(I have some tentative lore about his parents- and his grandparents- too, and how that would effect Branch and his Bros growing up, but I will leave that for a separated post)

But anyway, with Branch's Pop side being moderated by his Rock side, he would have always felt a bit out of place among his tribe, even he grew up perfectly happy with no tragedy in his life (I know switching Branch's and Poppy's place when it comes to being grey is all the rage right now, but I still feel most are missing all the necessary nuance to really make it work, but lets not get into that pf)

Obviously, that feeling of not fitting it only got hundred fold worse since his PTSD and him being grey, as Pop Trolls doesn't seem to be known for mental health support. Branch eventually leaving is not him going 'Screw you all, I will find someone who appreciates me' (much like Clay did) but more of a 'I am sorry, I won't get in your way anymore, I wont be a burden'

Basically massive amount of self-loathing and severe lack of self-worth. When Branch had his final breakdown and decided to leave, I don't think it would be with the precise goal of finding anyone (yes, part of him hopes he would be able to find his brothers and at least find closure one way or another, no matter how much it terrifies him).

Honestly, Branch probably didn't dare to examine his decision to leave any closely than he needed to, lest it would stand out to him for what it really was- a suicide trip.

This was Branch that doesnt know anything about the wide, outside world; he knows Bergen Town, knows of the old Troll Tree, and now knows the Forest and their Troll Village. But everything else is uncharted territory for him. He knows of the Neverglades, because of a faint memory of John Dory constantly talking about them when he was a baby, but has only a vague sense which way they are (I headcanon they make up for the border of Pop and Rock territories)

His preparation for the trip was abysmal, and so was his plan in general. He just picked a direction- opposite of Bergen Town, away from them- and started walking. When he first encountered the towering high peaks of Classical Territory, he immediatelly recognized that they can't be the Neverglades- very much not fitting the description that he remembered, so he walked past/around them, smack dab into Country territory.

Compared to others, I don't think the Country Trolls would have been very welcoming to him at the beginning; used to hard life, inhospitable land and abundant death, Branch would be an unexpected disturbance; obviously not a Classical Troll, who borders with them the closest but never comes down from the skies, obviously not a Funk Troll, who with their technological advance might as well be myths at this point- and obviously not a Pop Troll, since he doesnt shower them with obnoxious music and doesnt even look the part.

Had he been at his 100%, they would have probably been quite content to send him packing, figuring he was just a Rock Troll going solo career (little insert headcanon: Rock Troll Rite of Passage is going on a Rock Tour, and sometimes the more adventurous Rock Trolls strays into other territories to bother and cause mayhem other trolls. Barb's Rock Tour was her Rite of Passage, and being a freshly fanged Queen, she took it to another level)

But Branch quite helpfully collapsed on their doorstep, half starving and dehydrated, and they weren't so callous as to leave him there for the elements to take care of him.

Naturally, their help hardly came for free, and even if they didn't ask, Branch would have already feel indebted to them for wasting resources on his wellbeing. A Survivalist himself, he easily spotted the tight budget they were running, and felt guilty for being a burden yet again.

To his surprise, when the country trolls found out he was a hard worker, a skilled architect and wiz engineer, they completely turned their wariness around.

It was the start of his 'finding himself' journey, but for the first time, Branch started to feel... appreciated. Yes, these trolls didn't know him- but they looked at him, looked at what he can do, and called him accomplished; they were praising his skills, and called him valuable.

(But some sense of danger remained with him; as far as he believed, 'Branch' was left behind to rot away in his bunker. So when introducing himself, and habit got better of him, he started with "Bra-" but caught himself and finished "-mble"; and that new name, 'Bramble', stuck XD Still a plant name, still close enough that he can learn to repond to it- and honestly, feels like fits him better right now, as he feel all out of sorts)

It was only the first step, maybe, but it was a step toward feeling that he had some worth.

I think, out of all the Tribes, he stays with the Country trolls for the longest; yes, the life there is hard, but that is perhaps why he feels most welcomed there. There are no useless nonsense parties, no senseless dancing- the times when they can finaly wipe their brow and relax is when the community gathers together and they just... talk. Sit around, share food, look at the stars and reminiscence.

It's all very subdued, and even though Branch is the most obvious outsider ever, he feels like one with the community, and that by itself is already healing a deep wound he didnt know he had.

When the country trolls finally start singing on their good day, Branch is rather taken aback (He forgot, that Trolls are Trolls, and Trolls sing)- but the sombre and slow melody and topic of the country speaks to him, and while he doesnt join- and they dont push him to join- he listens, and he appreicates.

It is with Country Trolls that he heals most of his trauma when it comes to music. His Grandma and his Brothers leaving him are still a big guilt that weights him down- and something he wont address for a long time- but Country trolls shows him that music can be wildly different. He still doesnt sing, but when offered to be taught to play a banjo (XD), he probably doesnt refuse- mainly out of fear of insult, but also because for the first time in his life, he wants to actually try.

As time passes, his more curious side comes out- he asks questions, wants to know everything- up to this point, he didn't even know that the Country trolls were country- and to them it was obvious what they were, so why would they need to introduce themselves?

That line of questioning leads to the explanation of the other Tribes existing, and that each Tribes' music is different.

And for the first time in his life, Branch felt something alien to him- burning Wanderlust. (Bit of his Rock herritage showing, eh? Solo Rock tour, Rite of Passage~?) The thirst for knowledge was always there- after all, his bunker had many journals filled to brim with information about what he discovered in the foods, helpful tips for survival and many plans for inventions- but those were always done out of necessity, discovered and noted down so that he could live another say. Never before he had a desire to discover simply for the sake of discovering.

Never before he also actually felt like he had the option to do so; the world has always been an inhospitable wilderness to him, only filled with a small handful of trolls and a town full of monstrous giants. His childhood was filled with memory of a large iron cage, and that trapped feeling didn't change; after all, his Bunker, for all that it offered him safety, was a different type of cage too. The whole Troll Village- Pop Village, as he learned now- was another cage as well. Gilded one, made of ignorance.

And so he knew his time with the country trolls came to an end- and it was because he grew to respect them and appreciate them, that he doesnt disappear in the nigh and haltingly tells them his decision to leave and explore.

Memories of his Brothers' argument echo through his mind as he waits for the inevitable blow up, but.... he is once again surprised when the trolls just accepts this decision and wish him all the best- going as far as to help him pack- properly this time- and wheedling out of him a promise to check in once in a while, whenever he is in the neighbourhood.

Equipped with a non outdated map, he decides to make visit all the other territories one by one, starting from Country and heading right towards Classical, going around in one large circle around Pop Territory- Going to Techno after Classical, and to Rock right after that. Funk is largely a mystery to him- the Country trolls are at this point content to believe they are just a myth- much the same way a unicorn is to us- but Branch wants to keep an open mind.

After all, he himself had no idea other kind of trolls existed, so why dismiss the Funk Troll existence right away?

His travels to Symphonyville proved to be as challenging as was the start of his trip towards Country territory. Being high in the mountains- higher than anywhere Branch ever went- really showed him that walking is easy only when the road is straight and flat.

The air growing colder and thinning, he probably doesn't make the best first impression neither- especially in his dishevelled state, he is once more mistaken for a Rock Troll, and it takes a gargantuan amount of effort to convince anyone that he is simply there to learn music, and not cause any trouble.

Out of all the Tribes, he would stay with the Classical trolls the shortest. They are strict teachers, and their culture is very frigid and traditional- and Branch knows that he would have to wildly change himself to fit among them. Yet looking around, seeing the tall spires of the buildings around him, he finds he doesn't really want to. The grandiose of everything is rather intimidating- but even if he tried his best, he would never fit well among the classical trolls, always limited by something (like his ability to fly)

And realizes that was okay. That was acceptable. And that the classical trolls knew he wasn't a good fit now, and would hardly ever be a good fit ever- but they never expected him to become someone he is not. He asked them to teach him and so teach him they will- but you cant force a white sheep to grow black wool anymore that you can force a black sheep grow white.

The moment they realize Branch is there to learn and not wreck their peace like wandering Rock Trolls tend to do, they definitelly warm up to him more- but it still with the mildest of disapprovals since compared to them, Branch looks like a scrunkly kitten and all of them are just itching to groom him properly XD

Branch himself is amazed at the variety of musical instruments that exists and very quickly finds that he is not a progidy in plaing them all pff. Wind musical instruments are most likely completely beyond him, and after some attempts gives them up for a lost cause. Percussion fairs a bit better; he definitelly has some idea how to keep a beat and a rhythm, but even there he finds playing piano the most comfortable out of them all, with drums being a close second.

It is with string instruments that he trully shines, especially those that he can play with his own hands, without the need to use a pick or a bow; a tentative hint at his connection to music, the vibrations just send shivers down his spine and makes him feel more close to the sound his playing produces. (Guitar and Harp becoming his favourite instruments from the get go).

Getting to Techno was trickier. Them living underwater makes access to their territory rather impossible- unless Branch happens to meet someone willing to cross then bridge between Land and Sea XD

It makes for a rather convenient introduction for minor genres; the land bordering Classical and Rock seems to be as the perfect land for various minor tribes to cohabit in peace.

Are there Techno Opera trolls? Siren like beings, that found their homes on the deck of boats, sailing from and to an island after island? Techno Classical that built their living on the coast line, wanting to be close to both land and sea?

In any case, Branch discovers that even with music it's not so simple as shelving it into labels, and that it is ever growing, ever evolving. He never manages to actually visit Techno Reef, but he doesnt' need to; compared to other trolls, the Techno Trolls are not insular, and quite happily come to the surface or to the coast, both to vibe with the offshoots of their genre, to discover what they came up with, but also to simply make friends and have fun.

It was the first time Branch encountered a large party not unsimilar to that of a Pop Troll one- and yet for all that the party was just as loud and wild as he was used to seeing, the sight of it didnt really fill him with uncontrollable panic. It definitelly helped it was once again more about the music and the beat itself, and about the mood of the partygoers than it was about the singing; it was about experimentation and trying out new things- and yet not every troll was dancing around like maniacs. They had the stage for sure, and large crowd was gathering there- but there were also the fringe areas and corners, where Trolls just sat and chatted and bopped to the beat. Not forced to do anything they didn't want to, simply allowed to have fun in their own way.

He doesnt really interacts with the Techno Trolls that much, beyond when there is a party happening on the surface. Gravitates more towards exploring the Minor Territory, and discovering that it holds more than just Techno Classical/Opera. Not wanting to stray too close to the border with Pop, he nevertheless encounters encounters various offshoots of Pop as well- and the K-Pop gang as well

This definitelly allows him to learnt that even the Trolls Kingdom are not free of corruption and the bounty hunters are not starving for contracts- crime does happen in the troll kingdoms, and when the local police force comes short, the bounty hunters are the next best thing to employ.

Speaking with the K-Pop gang, he learns- with a bit of unease- that there was an old contract unfulfilled, that searched for all the Brozone Brothers, and thanked his lucky stars he can in no way be connected to them. It was considered a cold one, where there was no hope among the communities of it ever being cashed in- but the knowledge someone was looking for them- specifically for the younger of the brothers (Him, Floyd and Clay) made him wonder who could it be.

(Part of him entertained that it could be John Dory)

(Other part dismissed it right away. After all, JD did specifically state 'Goodbye Forever'- why would he make the effort to employ bounty hunters to find three of his brothers, if he was even alive to do so?)

That meetings seems to set of a string of bad luck- at least, that's how he feels. Continuing down to Rock territory- of which he is most wary (after all, he was constantly being confused for one, and expected to cause mayhem and destruction- so what kind of Trolls Rock Trolls were to earn that reputation?

A very specific kind- wild and chaotic.

Compared to other Territories, no-one blinks when he just walks in and continues deeper into the Kingdom; and he can finally see why he was mistaken for a Rock Troll. Muted colours, sharp smiles and even sharper claws, it was like walking into uncanny valley, where nearly every troll wears his face. At that point, unknown to him, his colours are not completely grey and black, so he is sporting some faint hues, and very quickly learns that thanks to the direction he came from, Rock Trolls think he is from an Offshoot genre; either Punk Rock or Pop Rock (though they obviously hope for the former) They reconsider him to Folk Rock when he brings out softer tunes that he plays on a borrowed guitar; and for the first time in a while, Branch is asked to sing.

He panics, obviously- playing musical instrument is one thing, but getting over his trauma from singing is another- and quite swiftly and bluntly refuses, cringing after to wait for the inevitable "You are a Troll, why don't you sing?"

Only... it never comes. There are shrugs, and one "Cool." and then he just gets invited to an Indie Rock show, and that is that.

Completely baffled at this easy acceptance, Branch agrees out of shock, before he can trully think it through- and realizes it's the first time since he left Pop Village (at this point probably nearly two years ago) that he thinks back on its inhabitants and namely Poppy.

He feels rather guilty, for taking this long to really give them a concrete thought. Like yes, he did think of them at the beginning, when he lived with the Country trolls- but that was only in general way, comparing the different livestyles. He never really chose to think about the people he left behind.

Now, no longer blinded with grief, self-loathing and rampart paranoia, he does remember that not all adults in his life went out of their way to activelly fail him. King Peppy, for all that he was unequipped to deal with Branch's issues, tried to check up on him regularly; his Grandmother's friends or those who knew her, made it their goal to be kind, even if Branch tried to avoid them out of reminder what he caused

Hype, Trickie, Boom and Ablaze were old friends- his childhood friends- the ones he made after his brothers left, and the ones he pushed away after he went grey- and yet they still managed to be around, noticing them from a distance, even as he stopped speaking to them.

And then there was, of course, Poppy.

Just starting to mature when he left, it's not quite a crush that he feels for her (not yet anyway), but there is still some sort of appreciation for her- some part of him, that subconsciously aches at the need to be close to her, and feeling just that bit of her warmth and positivity- one that made him wistfully keep all her invitations and listen to the sound of her recorded voice.

For the first time, he wonders how they reacted to his disappearence. Wonders if they miss him- or if they curse him. If they do both- like he felt conflicted towards his brothers, the older he got and the more obvious it became that they are not coming back.

It was that thought- the comparison to his brothers- that pushed him to hesitantly think about returning back to Pop Village; to his bunker, to his old life- to Poppy.

It was a tentative thought really; truthfully, the desire was a half hearted spur of the moment, and not something he would drop everything for. He didn't miss his old life; where he was the village hermit, the outcast, the weird one. Besides, he just arrived in Rock, and he still had a whole adventure ahead of him, trying to find the Funk trolls.

And so, When in Rome, do as the Romans do- and so Branch steeled himself to attend a party, one that he was specifically invited to; after all, he had been at parties before now, within the reach of Techno Reef, it's not like this one is any different

Only it kind of felt like it- yes, the music was harsher, the beat went harder- but the harmonizing of voices reminded him so close of his own tribe that it just left him feeling jittery- and at first, yes, the party made him tense and hardly participate, but as it went on, song after song, he could feel himself slowly relax.

(Besides, there was something about rock music, that send warmth straight to the core of his being; something about it resonated with him more than any other music did, besides Pop- and where before he fought hard to not allow it to do that, perhaps, just this time, he could try the opposite)

(After all, they were underground, where Branch always felt the safest, and the Bergens had no idea other tribes even existed- he could indulge a little)

Of course, fate has a funny way of entertaining itself, and in the second of his indecisiveness, he gets bumped into and trips and falls- or he would, if pair of hands didn't steady him, and familiar voice asked him if he was okay

And Branch suddenly felt altogether three years old, getting fed empty promise and watching his older brother disappear through the entry to his Grandma's pod

And he is now in present, left staring at nearly 15 years older Floyd, his brother clearly living the best life, happily away from Pop Territory (away from Branch)

His name drops from his lips before Branch can stop himself, and that has Floy pause and squint at him- obviously not recognizing him, obviously trying to place him- before something clicks and his eyes widen and he goes pale

Branch most likely punches him- and then finds he cant stop heaving in fury and goes punch him again, not allowing Floyd a word in (honestly, he is not punching very hard, not apart from that first one)

Of course, Floyd is hardly alone, probably in a band, and his band mates are not keen on having their member be attacked by a random troll

Brawl very easily breaks out- honestly nothing new among the Rock Trolls- and ends up with all of them, especially Branch, thrown in a cell for their troubles, much to the protest of Floyd's bandmates, who curses and claims innocence

For the first time in forever, Branch feels hollowed out; yes, he had been hoping for a closure- but honestly, he had expected to find all of his brothers dead; not finding any of them living happily away, their youngest brother not even a blip of concern in their mind.

He certainly never expected it from Floyd, who essentially lived a stone throw away; who clearly was able to cross the distance it took from Bergen town to arrive in Rock troll's territory, just shy away from the Pop one.

------------------------------------------------------------ This is where I will stop the musing for now XD;

Obviously there are more things to add; Barb would make appearance, not yet as a Queen but definitelly in charge of keeping any Rock Trolls in line (she is not called a Princess because the Rock Trolls don't use that title for their heirs) and while Floyd is aware she is the future Queen, that information doesnt get shared)

The discovery of Funk Trolls still awaits as well, as does Branch's return to Lonesome Flats, as he had promised to do

But that's for the next time :)

[hana-no-seiiki]

Idk if this is a request or something but I just wanted to get it out there before I forget it. How would the batfam react to a batsis coming from the last of us universe?( the last of us is a zombie apocalypse type game.) How would they react to all of batsis PTSD from being born in a world over ran by zombie’s and learning to survive at a young age. How would they help them? How would they react if they ever were transported to there(batsis) world?

Sorry for this random ask I just wanted to get this out there before I forget about it. Anyway hope you have a great week!

SOFT YANDERE BATFAM x THE LAST OF US! READER BRAINROT

Recently had a TLOU brainrot (at this point it’s more of a heartrot with how devastating the story is eugh) so this came at a perfect timing. I’m guessing batsib (I’ll make it gn I hope you don’t mind anon) has a similar life to elle if they’re not just elle entirely.

I think Batsib would have to be close to the boys before they eventually spill their guts (aka their severe trauma out).

Like when they’re at least 60% there on the yan scale of things.

They see signs like you being hella adamant on the boys at least trying to fix their relationship with Bruce since you know the most out of everyone how it feels to lose a father figure.

You’re the closest with Jason purely because you both have baggage, and luckily you like to talk about it and sort it out.

Your whole life had been the apocalypse so going to Gotham and seeing everything in its prime fascinated you. When the Batfam first took you in due to your status as an anomaly, it took very little to impress you.

But it also took a lot to terrify you.

If we’re going full on Ellie! Reader here then them (batfam) seeing that huge bite mark on your arms, presumably after you’ve dumped info on your past and your reality, almost turned them feral.

It was that moment they decided to never let you go back.

You’re allowed to join them with their vigilante activities as long as you were under strict surveillance.

Bruce is kind of off-put by your nonchalance when it comes to beating up people to a pulp. He had to jump in and stop you from completely killing a dude.

Jason on the other hand approves. Definitely eggs you on.

The rest of the boys, as is my headcannon with any violent MC, get turned on when they see you covered in blood.

In summary, they definitely cherish you more. The spoiling is dialed up to eleven. And since you didn’t know much of the world prior to its apocalypse state, they wouldn’t lock you up like in most cases and instead bring you to explore as much as you’d like.

There is a sick part of them that enjoys your PTSD and how dependent (and distrusting of others) you can be because of it. So unless it gets really bad where you can’t get sleep at all I can see them just not trying to get help for you.

ON THE MORE WHOLESOME SIDE:

I am now imagining reader going to a museum with them all and just climbing the fossil in front of like dozens of people while screaming “LOOK AT ME I’M ON A MOTHERFUCKING DINOSAURRRR!”

Bruce definitely had to pay a lot for that

and all the younger ones + Dick cause he’s Dick throwing fedora hats on all the dinos??? please im on my knees that’s too cute augh-

If they were ever transported in your world, it’d definitely be the other way around. Say you aren’t like Ellie and are completely susceptible to the infection- oof you might as well just be in jail.

They’ll disinfect everything. Masks 24/7. Generally just extremely careful as to not get infected or infect you in any shape or form.

Tim has already researched on fungal infections so you bet he’s ready. Wouldn’t be surprised if he single-handedly ends the apocalypse with how thorough he was. Him, Dick, and Alfred focus more on taking care of you.

Jason and Damian are more with survival and the annihilation of anything that may be dangerous to you within the vicinity. May it be zombies, thieves, the military and what not.

Bruce is probably tinkering on more equipment and helping Tim with actually getting rid of the fungi. The former will definitely use his charm and looks to get more supplies.

In short, these dudes have everything on lockdown.

You’ll wish you didn’t come back to your original world.

A.N. I hope this was to your liking anon!

[one-fin-wonder]

Can I have the boys reaction to someone info-dumping to them?

A/N: Yes Anon, you sure as heck can. I really enjoy info dumping on my friends so this is right up my alley. I hope this is what you were hoping for! :D

Warnings: I used my poor duolingo skills and limited Spanish knowledge to write the Spanish, there only a few but the grammar may off, I am so sorry for it in advance but there is translations to what I intended to say. not beta read / I’m too dyslexic for my own good, and fluff? I’m a hopeless romantic man. What do you want from me. 

Word count: 1090

Steven Grant:

It all started when Steven asked you about your day as he walked through the door. He set down his messenger bag and turned towards you. It was too late, the waterfall of words already was released. 

You began explaining how you dived deeply into your hyperfixation (or specific subject you would be info dumping about)

You smiled wide as you explained, and his heart melted at the sight of you.

are you the type of person that stims when you get excited? (I shore am) Steven will smile if you begin to stim happily while explaining. 

He loves knowing that you are so excited that you can’t contain the energy, you have to physically let the happiness out 

He simply smiled as he sat down next to you. He nodded and began asking clarifying questions.

“So, what you’re saying is…” “Theoretically then…” “Wait! That means…*He connects to another concept to allow you both to be engaged*”

He’ll wraps his arms around you if you’ll let him, holding onto you as you speak about your topic

He will praise your enthusiasm for the topic and vast knowledge. 

“Love, you’re simply a genius.” “I love hearing your view and knowledge” “That’s so fascinating!” 

Steven knows exactly what it’s like to need to explain one specific topic. He knows that feeling, that specific feeling like pasta water boiling over on the stove. 

He holds your hands (with your permission) as you speak, he likes showing you that he’s there with you and listening, it's a gentle reminder.

He feels it's incredibly important for you to be comfortable enough to share these moments of informational rambling. So he tries his best to show you he’s interested, he hears you and that you are loved. 

Marc Spector:

He is very caught off guard

Once he knows you aren’t upset or in distress he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding and listening

He tosses his keys to the side as he nods listening to you

Marc doesn’t know fully how to react but he likes to hear your voice. The excitement and sincerity in your voice as you speak makes him smile, just a little. 

Marc makes his way over to you finally after he completes his after work routine

Like Steven I think Marc would wrap his arms around you but he wouldn’t know much more than that to show he cares about your information

He does though, He loves you, and he wants to see you happy. He simply doesn’t do emotions well. 

(My poor emotionally unavailable boy. He just needs a hug.)

He silently listens and only replies when you ask him if he follows, 

Finally once you’re done you look at him with a small little sigh and smile and he melts. 

You see it in his eyes and the stern expression he always has just softens. 

you can tell how much he loves you in this moment, the pure love just radiating, but he won’t say it. He won’t explain the feeling he is experiencing. 

But he loves you and you don’t necessarily need the words that he struggles to say, because it’s obvious in his actions. 

and god, the feeling is mutual.

Jake Lockley:

this man has no fucking clue what you are rambling about

He will freeze in the doorway of the small apartment, hand still on the doorknob. He’s so confused and you’re talking a mile an hour in an excited tone. He cannot understand you at this moment. 

Once Jake gets to you he will take his gloves off, stuff them in his pocket and put his hands on your shoulders (or a more comfortable spot if this can trigger you like it does me. Essentially he wants to ground you.) 

“Mi amor, por favor, slow down. No comprendo.” ("My love, Please, Slow down I don't understand")

Or alternatively, he May think something’s wrong with how excited and rushing towards him you are. He puts a hand on your arm and looks around the apartment then back at you. “Que pasa?? Está bien???” ("What's wrong?? Are you okay???")

He would then notice your smile and beaming expression and relax a little “Dios mío,” ("oh my god")you gave this Poor man a heart attack but he loves you all the same. 

he will listen but he will make you repeat yourself again

But it’s only because he cares so much. He wants to understand, so if it takes him several times to understand he will put that effort in.

He nods a lot, especially when it finally clicks in his little murderous, spanish, brain.

When he asks a clarifying question he always ends it with “yeah?” Ex: “so when you say the sun is a star you mean like that fucking ball in the sky, yeah?” 

He sits next to you, his arms on his knees as he hunches over listening. He doesn’t look at you he’s looking most likely at the floor or the wall as he focuses on your words. 

He tries really hard to make you feel heard but he legit makes that grumpy Spanish man expression the entire time. But you know this is just how he is, he loves you, he really does. 

This man keeps a little notebook, like those ones for detectives that fit in pockets. He keeps one of those in his jacket pocket and writes down facts he wants to remember about your favorite topics. He is like a dad who is trying to keep up with the trends. 

Not that he would let you necessarily see said notebook, he keeps it hidden in the inside pocket with a small pen or golf pencil in the spiral of the notepad. 

He pats your knee like a dad too, to show you he’s there. He’s present with you. It’s subtle but it’s his own way of letting you know he’s trying to understand. 

He would move heaven and earth for you, he loves your intelligence, your insight, he loves you. All of you, no matter your flaws, perfections, your needs. 

So if being heard is what you need in this moment you know damn well he will give you everything he can to make it happen.