#Marion: I was a child. I was in love. It was wrong and you knew it!

[centwithlove]

EDIT: @hugtheteadrinkthekitten

>Watch trailer for Indiana Jones game >Think about how Indiana Jones really really hates nazis >Think about how Indiana Jones takes place in 1936 >Think about how America didn't join world war 2 until 1941 >Think about how nazi Germany got its ideas of racial hierarchy from the segregation in Jim Crow America >Think about how an upperclass white man in 1936 would actually be more likely to agree with nazi ideas, so there must be a specific reason why Indiana Jones hates nazis so much >Think about how Indiana Jones is a movie from 1981 >Think about how this was right after the Vietnam war, a war America lost real bad >Indiana Jones' anachronistic hatred of nazis is a form of WW2 nostalgia because Americans needed something to feel good about after losing real bad in Vietnam, and that was the only conflict in living history where Americans were the "good guys" >Think about how in current year, Indiana Jones hating nazis is positioned as "woke pandering"

[folkloristico]

😭, and 🤩+Marion, and 😔 for the fic asks!

Thank you for the ask!! 

😭 angst or sad WIP snippet 

(TW: mention of miscarriage. It’s nothing graphic, but of course, feel free to skip if it’s something you’re not comfortable with.)

The child’s death was just like Mother’s—quick, unforeseen, and yet unconventional. It left her empty, numb. Not a single tear shred. Oritel said, should the child be a girl, they could name her after her mother. Marion said no. She didn’t miss her mother’s presence like she should’ve had; she thrived, even, in her absence, and she didn’t want her second-born—one she would love deeply—to have the name of the mother that had failed to love her. Perhaps it was a punishment, that it would die before it was even born. And it was one as well that she should have another chance in the worst of times, with a war raging at their door, claiming her only daughter. She didn’t want to bring another one to the world if it meant living with the crippling fear of loosing them as well. So when Griffin found out, and Marion hadn’t it in herself to deny it to her—because she knew it wouldn’t work, not with Griffin; or perhaps because she wanted someone to either stop her or indulge her—she said, “Oritel doesn’t know.” Griffin stared, and Marion could almost see the rest of the sentence form in her mind. He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t need to. “Marion…” Griffin began, but no other words would come. For a long moment, silence grew thick between them, and Griffin just stared at her. “Forgive me, Griffin,” Marion said in a hush, “but you’re the last person who can judge me.” And it was selfish, and cruel, and many other things, but Marion didn’t have the strength to bring a child into a world that could crumble any given moment.

Context is: the reason why Daphne and Bloom have an age gap of roughly twenty years between them it’s because actually, Marion and Oritel did try to have another baby, but Marion suffered a miscarriage, and for a couple of years they didn’t feel like trying anymore. Then the war began and they believed it was best not to try again now. Bloom sort of just happened and, well, Marion isn’t very pleased about it, given the situation.

🤩 a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from ________ [name of a character]. If you don’t have one for that character, choose someone else! 

But of course I have snippets with Marion! Actually, it’s kinda funny you’d ask of her because I’ve been writing a decent amount of stuff with her lately, so here you go!

It’s written from Griffin’s POV. She refers to Marion as ‘the Queen’ because it’s set shortly after Griffin joins the Company, and Marion and Oritel being royalty, she doesn’t instantly address by their first names.

The Queen tilted her head as if following the invisible thread of her own thoughts. “My family has always been obsessed with it,” she began, and Griffin had to stifle a snort. It endeed was, so much to foster the genocide of an entire planet. Griffin was in no position to point fingers, but if not the current Queen and King, their ancestors had as much blood on their hands as the Coven did. “They had theories,” the Queen continued. “That even a member of our family—someone who’s had the Dragon Flame run in their veins—could wield its opposite force.” Her eyes were heavy on Griffin, the undertones of her words clear enough there was no point of avoiding a direct confrontation. “You did not strike me as the suicidal kind, Your Majesty.” “I just like to consider my options, is all.” Griffin’s eyes narrowed. She’d been wrong about her one time before, and she was still struggling to make out a full person out of the woman who’d told her she had no care for those who threatened to hurt her friends and family, and yet here she was, making friends with a former enemy. “You have but a sparkle of the power that your daughter now possesses,” Griffin said carefully, the Princess being a touchy subject for all of them. “If you were to wield the Shadow Fire, I can’t say if that would do you more harm than good. Maybe the low presence of the Dragon Flame in your body would make it so the Shadow Fire does not get rejected, or perhaps it would be so strong that it would kill you. My guess would be that you’d need a good balance of the two in order to make it work, but I wouldn’t know how to do that. I’m only vaguely aware of the principles of the ritual, and frankly, I don’t think it could be done without experimenting first. And experiments always involves casualties.” “Deaths.” “Yes,” Griffin said slowly. “Deaths.”

They’re discussing the Shadow Fire because given the fact that it’s the Dragon Flame’s opposite, it doesn’t make sense for the Company to never think of it as a power source to counteract Valtor, and quite frankly, I believe Griffin specifically is too smart to not consider the possibility herself.

Sooooo if they seem to be hostile to one another, it’s because they are, at least at first. Griffin doesn’t really like royalty, and Marion is wary of Griffin for obvious reasons, and at firsts only plans of using her for her connection with Valtor.

😔 published lines or a section of a fic that was super sad, angsty, or difficult to write? 

I don’t have many things published in the Winx fandom, but—

She couldn’t let go of the past; she learned, to a degree, to live with it. She tried to rebuild her life around it, and perhaps it was her mistake—in carefully placing the pieces all around it, she was trying to hide it. To bury the grief with the same people whose absence, death, had caused it.

���really grew on me! If we’re sticking to English and English only, I’d say it’s one of the best lines I’ve ever written—also because up until recently, I used to be terrible at writing in English, so it’s not like there are many other options to begin with, lol.

[maryloomis]

my mary (and lila) loomis headcanons (some of which I plan to incorporate in fanfic):

cw: abuse for a lot of them (also mentions of csa, r*pe and slight transphobia)

Mary was conceived in Lila’s hotel room on that first night that Lila & Sam first investigated Norman. they both got drunk and commiserated/trauma bonded over Marion’s murder & had a one night-stand

because both sleeping with your sister’s fiancé AND having a child out of wedlock were unacceptable in 1959/1960, and abortion was illegal, they eloped/had a shotgun wedding before Lila was even visibly pregnant at all, let alone gave birth

the Crane side of the family was very strict and conservative and they disowned both of their daughters, Marion (posthumously) for being a thief and Lila for getting pregnant with her former future brother-in-law’s child

Lila was actually the screw-up/black sheep/“wild child” while Marion was the golden child when they were teens and in their early 20s (which is part of why Marion found stealing the $40,000 so thrilling…..it’s because she’d never done anything like it before in her life) until she got her shit together

Lila is younger than Marion by 3 years

Mary is named after Marion (obv)

Mary is an only child (obv)

Mary is a Virgo born in September (since Marion’s murder & everything w/ Norman happened in December)

since Norman being incarcerated took place in December, and he’s released 22 years after (which would be 1981), in Psycho II Mary is 20, turning 21 that September

Mary is in her junior year of college in Psycho II, and she's studying forensic psychology specifically bc of the Norman Bates case and how it affected her. She wants to become either a forensic investigator, FBI agent, or go to the police academy when she graduates

Lila and Sam were incompatible bc they barely knew each other prior to getting married so they had countless arguments (many of which were over how to discipline toddler Mary — Lila was authoritarian, Sam was more carefree and wanted to let little Mary do whatever she wanted)

one of Mary’s first memories at age 3 is of her parents fighting

Sam died in a car accident when Mary was 4 so she has little to no memory of her dad, she’s only ever known Lila

Lila never remarried; she raised Mary completely by herself actually no this is a fucking lie. she remarried ONE piece of shit guy who started (CW: CSA) sexually abusing Mary when she was a young child. when Mary tried telling her mom about it, Lila refused to believe her & thought she was lying. Oh yeah, this guy is also a wealthy asswipe and he moved them into his megamansion. They divorced shortly before Psycho II (hence Lila still going by ‘Loomis’) but that was because he left Lila for a younger woman, not bc of the CSA

Lila (as overcompensation for how her parents treated her, and how she used to be, and out of resentment at Sam because she thinks Marion’s death is all his fault, and now he’s dead too and she could never get any closure and she’s stuck with this child) ramps up the hardcore disciplinarianism and starts physically disciplining Mary whenever she does wrong, this starts when Mary is 5

Mary takes after Sam in looks, which only adds to Lila’s rage & resentment

Lila became an alcoholic after Marion’s death (sometimes her drinking would be why her and Sam would fight) and it worsened after Sam’s death. Her alcohol abuse only exacerbated her physical abuse towards Mary

Lila has only once in her life ever told Mary “I love you,” other than that she doesn’t say it. And she‘s never uttered that phrase to Sam either

When fighting with Sam—and usually while Lila was drunk—Lila would scream at him that Marion’s death was all his fault, because it was because of him that Marion stole the money that led her to the Bates Motel, and that she wished she’d never met or married him and wished she never had his “bastard child” (Mary)….. in front of Mary

Lila would rant while drunk about Norman and wanting to kill him

Mary was a social outcast her whole life who got bullied in elementary and middle school and barely made any friends

Mary lost her virginity at 14 (which infuriated Lila when she found out)

Mary once got pregnant at 15 but she had a miscarriage

⬆️ both times made her get beaten SENSELESS by Lila

Mary developed hypersexuality & started sleeping around in high school in order to cope with her mom’s beatings & her stepdad’s sexual abuse (and stop feeling pressured to be a good modest Catholic schoolgirl), which got her branded a slut/whore and she had to change schools twice bc of it

Lila weirdly 'found God' and became a Christian in the middle of Mary's high school years (didn't stop the beatings tho). The second school she put Mary in was a Catholic school, wherein she further rebelled

Mary has an eating disorder and body image issues

Mary is a huge fan of heavy metal and rock music (Black Sabbath, Rolling Stones, Exodus, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Metallica, Motley Crue, Deep Purple, Sex Pistols, KISS, Alice Cooper, The Eagles, Blue Oyster Cult, Judas Priest etc.) but she had to hide it from her mom who thought it to be "devil music". She HATES the Beatles tho. She also loves David Bowie, and Prince, and she's also secretly a fan of stuff like Diana Ross, Donna Summer, MJ, etc.

Mary either can’t drive or doesn’t have her own car (I’m undecided on which one)

Mary's psychology class in high school once had to study the Norman Bates case for a discussion about psychotics who kill and the entire classroom turned to look at her bc they knew of her family's connection to the case; she also got mercilessly bullied for it

Mary tried to write to Norman when he was in prison exactly twice. The first time when she was 14 and it was a letter expressing hatred for him for killing her aunt and by proxy turning her mom into an alcoholic, abusive monster, the second time when she was 17 and she was curious about Norman and wanted to know more about him. Both letters were intercepted—the first one by the staff at the institution Norman was imprisoned at, the second one by Lila. And Lila absolutely lost her shit when she found it, and she screamed at Mary and called her a "traitor" to her aunt and a sick freak, and beat Mary within an inch over her life over it, to the point where Mary was purple all over from bruises, and that was the hardest her mom ever beat her. She also kicked her out of the house for a week over this & Mary was forced to stay with a dodgy male classmate who had a crush on her during that time

Mary secretly kept a newspaper that depicted Norman's mugshot from the 50s, and she would never admit it to herself but a small part of her found Norman attractive

Mary moved out of her mom's house the second she graduated high school and she only made one lasting friend which was her roommate in her college dorm (this roommate is also who introduced Mary to smoking weed); this is the "girlfriend" she makes reference to living with when she tries to leave Norman's house

Mary met Scott in college as well, he was her lab partner turned bf, and they'd been together 2 years before he cheated on her

Scott was abusive as fuck, he'd physically and emotionally abuse Mary and whenever Mary would find the strength to leave him he'd always bring her gifts and shit, or propose marriage and she'd come crawling back. It was only after she got involved with Norman that she finally was able to ditch Scott for good.

Mary started partying A LOT as soon she hit college

Mary was briefly part of a sorority until she realized it wasn’t for her

Mary almost got (CW: rape) r*ped at a frat party

Mary kissed a girl at another frat party during one of the few times she got seriously drunk

Mary originally wanted to study dance/become a dancer, specifically a ballerina, but then she switched her major to psychology (yes I took this from Meg Tilly's actual backstory)

Mary had long hair down to her waist her entire life but cut it to the mullet she has in Psycho II when she was in college. Lila was disgusted when she saw it bc she thought Mary was trying to look like "a boy"

hope y'all enjoyed these!!!

[dq-avenquire]

the bloomingdale arc always got me especially emotional for whatever reason. i think its because there’s like. close to no happiness to be found in it, relative to the other stories, yknow? like most of them have a bittersweet “we’ve lost things but look at what we’ve gained” but bloomingdale just...doesn’t. the only thing you gain is a boat which like don’t get me wrong. the boat is sick i love the music but. emotionally? im still so bothered sometimes like. marion bloome is a lonely, neglected child. i know that after you clear that section of the game it’s clear that she was/is loved by people who aren’t just after her money, but that doesn’t change that statement. she’s an orphan in a house too big for her to grow into unguided and alone. she has a nanny, sure, but by the time we enter town it’s clearly been a bit since they’ve spent time together. the servants genuinely respect and care for her, but they’re servants, and clearly attached enough to the hierarchy to be intent on keeping up that role, even if they’re willing to do it out of love rather than pay. the dollmaker, kind and skilled as he is, can’t be there for her always. he can try to fill the void with the doll, but even that feels like a sad sort of metaphor. like. when you’re a kid with no real power and people who will do almost anything you ask and more money than you can understand it all just feels empty. none of it feels like it has real consequence and that sort of vacancy makes it all like a game. make believe. marion feels the doll is both as empty as her as it is the only thing with any real feeling because it is a mirror of her. personally i like to think that’s also why marionette is shown more to be spoiled and bratty - mirroring the inner child that is upset and hurt, yknow? conversely, marion feels super emotionally mature - which means she ABSOLUTELY knew that people came to “befriend” her out of greed and nothing more. but what else are you meant to do when you’re lonely? it’s the only resource she has. none of this has even touched on the fact that marion died alone. those last few words? that last wish she made? everything in her heart told her that she was going to die alone. if the fygg hadn't landed in her hands, she would have died alone, and her body would've rotted away til she was found - and i refuse to believe that would've happened quickly, given that i doubt marionette would've understood everything fast enough to bury her quickly, and apparently no one noticed that. her last moments in the world are spent rushing greetings and goodbyes and explanations to a friend she never gets to spend time together with for real. i just!! man im so upset on this fictional childs behalf. and it doesnt even really get better, yknow? her wish is such a sad thing like. i wish for you to be happy. i wish for you to find friends and family in the way i lost and will never be able to get back. i wish for you to find purpose. i wish for you to learn things i will never grow up to see. i wish for you to be happy. i wish for you to keep playing. i wish for you to keep playing. and it doesn't even really come true. marionette tries, sure, but she doesn't really...get it? and you can't blame her! she's the wonky creation made by otherworldly power that never should have touched her in the first place, and being human is such a difficult thing even for those born as one. but she tries anyway, even if she's hurt, even if she learnt to love seconds before learning to lose, even if she's navigating grief without a guide. and she makes friends, and learns just as she's told, but it's all...off. the people she "befriends" are more interested in her wallet than the child in front of them, and the things she learns are distorted. and then you come along, and as far as she's concerned you've come to take her like marion was taken, and it's no wonder she's terrified of you. and then she's kidnapped, and that's somehow better. it's all part of the game, right? she hasn't read the rules, so how is she meant to know? and then, when the tyrantula throws her against the ground of course she doesn't understand. of course it hurts her, even if she doesn't know why or in what way. (how ironic that a spider would be the one to cut the puppet's strings) (you save her, sure, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough, not to me) she goes home. her world stays small. she doesn’t make friends, unless we count you. she visits the grave. she gets to say goodbye. she gets to be hurt, and see her friend one more time. and then...that's just it. that's it. she's just a doll. it's not like zere rocks - there will be no one coming to visit her, who will finally understand, and pay their respects. it's not like jona, who looks forward and makes her own future. there is no reuniting in the stars. there's just you, in an empty mansion kept alive by servants who will never know that the person they serve died long, long ago, that it's far too late to say goodbye to any version of her. just a forgotten dollshouse in the back of town, with marionette silent and unmoving on the floor, right back where she started. there's just you, the player. you get to keep playing, at least.

[crowandtalbot]

Not true, he canonically had a relationship with a minor.

Marion Ravenwood was born 1909, met Indy in 1925 when they entered a romantic relationship and then she didn't see him again until in 1935

in 1925 she would have been 16

Indy was born 1899, so he would have been 26

Raiders of the Lost Arc (when they met again in 1935):

"Marion: I was a child. I was in love. It was wrong and you knew it.

Indy: You knew what you were doing.

Marion: Now I do. This is my place. Get out."

So no, he was never a blushing nerd who couldn't talk to girls. In fact, he probably needed to be talking to female children much less than he was allowed to.

He didn't even "wait until she was 18", her father (husband teacher) got upset about Indy seducing his daughter, so he left for London. Even marrying Deirdre there in 1926; his relationship with Marion started when she was only 16 and he was a full decade older than her.

imagine dealing w an international crisis involving precious artifacts and someone is like ‘don’t worry I know a guy’ and it’s a dorky connecticut college professor named henry who slips into his slutsona and suddenly he’s capable of saving the world w the power of his whip & fedora

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E129 (March 16, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Matt Mercer and Taliesin Jaffe!

Matt, on DMing Luc’s Revivify: “That was weird. It’s one thing when it happens because of player action and circumstances and the choices they make. When it’s entirely on me, unintentional, and just realizing different chess pieces you’ve set up, that’s rough.” It was especially rough since this was a child NPC related to a PC. “I was hoping somebody had a spell slot left.” He kept in mind that there are two clerics in the room and that they could resurrect the next day even if the Revivify went poorly. “A good chance, since it’s his first time. Okay, okay, okay, okay, I think we’ll be okay, we’ll see how this goes. It was really stressful in the moment! I did not set out to have that happen, but when I realized what was going to happen, I tried to see it through.” He wouldn’t have prevented a chance to bring him back. “There may have been an offshoot short-run series of games to find a way to bring him back. I would have found some way to correct the circumstance so the players could feel good about moving forward with the story and there was no undue punishment beyond their control.”

Taliesin on Cad’s response: “This is a big thing if you’re a cleric. It was very much coming in like an EMT. Everything should be fine... hopefully. Just focused in and got it done. The minute things started to go south it was like, okay, that’s the next problem.”

On Yeza’s feelings: “It is a very complicated situation. I think he, much like how Veth is trying to figure out what it is that she wants, I think he’s trying to help her find that while also figuring it out for himself. I think Yeza’s also noticing that because Veth’s the more active of the two of them she also takes the weight of the responsibility and the blame for things when they go wrong, unnecessarily. Especially when he himself acknowledges that he’s partially at fault for even dragging everyone in with the Conclave. As much as he’s appreciative for them coming back for him, there’s a lot of back and forth. He’s filled with a lot of regret, too, but he’s very much trying to convince Veth that it’s a burden that she doesn’t have to keep to herself, that they can share it and work through it together.” Matt mentions that, as an actor, he really loves exploring interactions between characters first and foremost. “Especially when you don’t know where it’s going to go.” He also praises Sam as a scene partner - “I really cherish that.”

How does Caduceus feel about Revivify and Speak with Dead? “Speak with Dead is an interesting middle ground, because he knows that it’s not actually speaking with the dead. It’s really just-- it’s almost medical, really. This is just reactivating a brain at a certain point. It’s practically just a muscle twitch at this point. That doesn’t really prod him in that direction. Revivify is interesting, because it had never really come up. At first I thought of it as bending the rules, but it’s not bending the rules. You knock over a plant, you replant it, you don’t stare at it and go ‘Well, that’s over.’ This is just doing the work. No, we can bring this thing back to health. This is all part of the circle of life, that sometimes we can save something. Especially given the stress that he’s put himself through over the past year of being with these people. He’s started to think of himself a bit as a battlefield medic, and triage is just part of the deal, and it’s completely acceptable.”

Did Trent really just want to talk? “Yeah, that circumstance, as it came together, Trent would never have arrived if there wasn’t an indication that there was some kind of infiltration or attack. Even beyond that, it was Jester breaking the concentration on her charm on that one guard when she created her duplicate.” The guards’ job is to inform a member of the Cerberus Assembly, and Trent lived the closest. “He didn’t know who it was, didn’t have any expectation necessarily. The minute he saw the illusion, he knew a powerful magic user was involved.” Seeing Caleb was an unexpected surprise. “I don’t think he wanted to throw down necessarily. He was more interested in figuring out exactly what the nature of this was.” Matt had multiple battlemaps that didn’t get used. “They managed to cleverly out-maneuver him in his surprise of seeing them.” The Nein rocketed up his priority list after that very quickly. Taliesin: “We’re so fucked.”

On Cad being “Uncle Caduceus” to Luc: “It’s the thing he misses most about home, is being a juvenile shit. It’s nice to be able to express that part of him again, as opposed to the serious, life-threatening, constant intensity. I’m very at home just being a little difficult.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Beau! (_rumor_king, photography by kourtyardproductions on Instagram)

On Marion: “Like a lot of people in this whole narrative from the beginning, getting swept up in things larger than her and trying to adapt. This is a circumstance she’s avoided for a long time. She’s having a rough time in some ways, but simultaneously, she’s enduring. Like a mother would. She’s adapting, she’s making it work. Without much of a choice, you just kind of do the best you can and lean on the people around you to help you where they can. Luckily she has a daughter there. She’s probably surprising herself at how well she’s doing given the circumstances.” Matt talks about how weird it is to feel proud of character he’s created. “Of the many things Marion is incredible at, she’s a studier of the human condition. She’s seen and heard the stories of so many. That gives her a very special perspective. She can see elements of that fractured individual within Caleb, and knowing the good that he’s brought to his friends, and knowing he’s possibly saved her life from bad circumstances, she couldn’t not speak up. She very easily falls into that role of maternal comforter, because it’s one of the many things she’s really good at, she enjoys it, and she can see well when people need it.” He’s been enjoying having Marion along for this (despite the difficult circumstances) because he was always a little sad that they only got to see her for short periods of time.

On the Blooming Grove’s safety: “He’s afraid that it’s a premonition. He’s not pinned it down, but he’s happy to let his imagination wander. He at the very least feels like there’s a reason he’s having these thoughts, and that there’s a reason to go there. He’s a big believer that these things don’t just happen. He’s more likely to think that there’s a good reason to go versus a danger to go. He’s had a couple of ominous warnings lately, and he’s not used to them and not a fan. He’s more likely to read something like that as, there is something there waiting for you that you have to discover. There is something that is going to be helpful to you, even if it hurts.”

On Astrid: “While maybe not as readable in overall personality as Trent is, I still want to be careful to not discuss things that are still being discussed within the game and tossed around as possibilities. Astrid is another complicated character, as anyone would be who’s been through the life she has. I can’t say too much. I can say she’s definitely legitimately happy to see Bren/Caleb after all this time.” His reemergence definitely caught her off guard. “We’ll have to see where it goes from there.”

On Cad’s successful Divine Intervention: “He’s definitely hit the ‘on a mission from god’ stage. He’s been that way for the entire campaign of, this, this is what I’ve been waiting for. Even when it sucks a lot, it’s been nice that those things have popped up to remind him, no, no, you’re doing it right, everything’s good. Probably not going to survive the next week, but you’re doing good! Not quite 1 in a 100 chance, but I forget so often to make that roll, and it’s such a great roleplaying roll. I don’t know how at level 20 you could deal with the fact that you can do that every day.” 

On Zeenoth getting his comeuppance: the kidnapping was a concept Marisha brought up for Beau’s backstory, and Matt went with it even though it was opposed to the Cobalt Soul’s philosophy because he knew rooting it out would make for an interesting story. “I felt it was an important beat to bring to her, because it was something that she was wronged by. And to show that there are still some good people out there who are trying to make things right.” After the tentative peace, dealing with this became Dairon’s next focus. “I was glad we finally got to it. So many people don’t have the opportunity in their lives to get that sort of justice and vindication, so if I can bring elements of that justice into our world, even for our own hope, I’m going to do that. Especially for my wife’s character, especially for a character that deserves that.” Taliesin points out that if it had come too early, Beau wouldn’t have believed it.

Cad’s thoughts on the Tomb Taker betrayal? “He knew it was gonna come at some point. There was no way that was gonna last. He was hoping it was gonna last a little longer. He was really hoping they had a vested interest in getting them all the way to the end. Nope, this is apparently as far as we go, and he was not prepared for that.” He was expecting the potential for de-escalation. “Caduceus is the only character in there that doesn’t have a history with Lucien. I think he sees him a little more clearly than everybody else does. They’re all looking for this person that Clay, at least, is of the opinion that he’s just not there. This is a very manipulative, very dangerous infernal human. Just smarter than all of them. Really aware that there is no calculating what the hell is going to happen. Conversation is the only way you can deal with someone like that.”

Fan Art of the Week: An amazing Caleb closeup! (rynn_birb on Twitter)

Taliesin on Lucien: “I’m excited he’s the one that’s going to kill us all. Poetic that this is how the game ends.” Matt was delighted when Taliesin handed him carte blanche to do what he wanted with Molly’s past. “I was like ‘shit... oh, wait!’ The character of Lucien was always intended to be an antagonist so that it would have been Molly being chased by the person who wanted their body back. But then it happened that he got his body back.” Taliesin: “He’s so much worse than I ever hoped.”

Matt, on the Holy Avenger: “I hadn’t thought to initially even give that sword.” The good roll was the only reason Kima handed that over. “Well, sure, you get the sword. It was very reactionary, it wasn’t my intent originally. I was like, well, I mean, there’s two avenues she can take with this.” Multiclass into Paladin, or lean into the fact that her subclass is essentially a barbarian paladin. “This really works out in a uniquely beautiful way. Let me see if I can lay out a path for her to earn it.”

On Cad’s attempt at lying blowing up in his face: “He was like that kid that had a really bad day in high school and was like, you know what? I’m going to let loose. This is it. I’m gonna dye a streak in my hair. And then tries to give himself a haircut and ends up with half bangs. Well, okay, obviously I’m not that person. I was feeling a little distraught and I didn’t handle it well. Maybe I’m going dark... no, I’m not going dark. Nope.” Matt mentions how much he relates to Caduceus.

Matt, on the Eyes: “What can I tell you? I’m enjoying the hell out of it. The moment they began to really push to read that book, I was like, okay, this is on you. I’m excited for the point in the narrative where the march continues back to Eiselcross. I am almost impatient - not really - because we’re on the cusp of getting to more of the meat. There’s so much to learn, so much to see, so much to explore. I love instilling my players with absolute terror.”

Thoughts on Jester’s Tarot reading? Taliesin cackles. “Molly made the cards, so. Did it to himself, he did, he did.” Matt: “Once again, another example of things working out unexpectedly and too perfectly for an improvised moment. Fuck.” Taliesin: “Bless the wisdom of chaos.” Matt: “I love that even at this point in the campaign, Molly continues to fuck with people. I’m just so proud. That deeply shook Lucien, for reasons.” Taliesin: “It’s the everlasting gobstopper smoke bomb.”

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Keith Max Card story “Worried old man Keith”

Translation of Keith Max’s 3* “The Night Pool Party” card story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Little Faith: I dun wannaaaaaa~! I wanna play games~~

Faith: So annoying…. Don’t go around throwing a tantrum now….

Junior: Ain’t it fine, Shitty DJ. We got games here anyway, so he’ll be quiet if we let him play, yeah?

Faith: Haah? You can’t just easily let a spoiled kid like this do what he wa--

Little Faith: There’s games!?

Junior: Hell yeah★ It’s not one of ‘em new ones but… I’ll go get it

Faith: Wha- ….Ochibi-chan! Wait a sec!

Little Faith: Uwaah, so fun...♪

Keith: Geez, all of ya are running around and making a ruckus. Makes you wonder who’s the brat here…

Little Faith: ……...

Keith: ….Mh?

Little Faith: !

Keith: (...Did he, just blatantly look away?)

Jack: “It seems that he got intimidated by seeing Keith. Please look a bit more cheerful.”

Jacqueline: “A happy smile is important-nano! Especially in front of a tiny child, if you don’t smile it’s no good!”

Keith: (Uum, uuhuuh…)

Keith: Is...is there anything ya wanna drink~? Ah, just so you know, can’t give ya any alcohol okay~?

Little Faith: …….

Keith: There’s no need to be afraid of this ol’ man here~~? Look…. happy happy smile~♪

Little Faith: ………..

Keith: (Wha- He ran away!?)

Keith: (I was all smiley to him and yet it had the opposite effect….!)

Keith: (Actually, the hell’s up with “ol’ man”!? Never thought something like that would come outta my own mouth…)

Junior: Ooooi, Chibi DJ! I got that game here♪

Little Faith: !!

Faith: Sigh….  Ochibi-chan will have to act if he starts acting selfishly or throwing tantrums, because I don’t know what to do anymore at this point

Faith: Eh, Keith? What are you looking so defeated for?

Keith: Huuh~? I ain’t though~?

Keith: I’mma, head off to the prof’s lab for a bit. Wanna ask ‘bout that machine… you guys behave and play nicely, got it

Faith: …..?

-

Keith: Oooi, prof. I’m coming i-

Nova: Nuhuuuuuuh~! I dun’ wanna, I dun’ wanna take a bweak~~!

Jack: You must! I beg of you to take a break and quietly listen to what I have to say

Nova: NoooOOooOOooo~!!!!!!!

Keith: Wh-what the….?

-

Nova: Ah man~ I showed you something embarrassing. Sorry, Keith-kun

Keith: Nah… My bad for walking in when you’re this busy

Keith: Came to see how the machine reparations and investigation is going but… Already got most of it, so I’ll just go back

Jack: No need to. You may take it easy here, Keith

Jack: Nova finally took a break thanks to you coming here. Please, have some coffee together.

Keith: …….

-

Nova: ----I see~ So, you ended up calling that boy “Little Faith”-kun

Nova: That’s a pretty good name for him. Although I prefer Jack’s “Pocket-sized Faith”-kun more~♪

Keith: Still, taking care of some kid is seriously hard. I knew what it was gonna be like so I didn’t want to take ‘em in...

Keith: It's a hundred times more of a pain in the ass than I thought to take care of him, to the point of it being absurdly tiring….

Nova: Ahaha, got your hands full, eh~

Keith: Well, the other’s are good with that, I just sit by and do nothing

Keith: That lil’ Faith’s still scared just by seeing me though...

Nova: Oh no, that hasn’t changed?

Keith: ….I did my best and tried to smile like Jack and all told me to, yeah?

Keith: But it didn’t work out at all, if anything he ended up running away

Nova: Uwah…. That must’ve been heart-breaking….

Nova: It was suuuuuuuch a big shock for me I had hurt Marion’s feelings and he ignored me when he was little!

Nova: I had panicked because I didn’t understand why, and then begged Victor to give me advice...

Jack: What had Victor said?

Nova: For the most part it was advice containing information he got based on general theories, psychology and the like.

Nova: In the end, after trying various things, Marion came to me and apologized, saying “Sorry for ignoring you”...

Nova: We hugged each other reaaaal tightly, and both burst out in tears…. Fufu, it’s still nice to think of♪ 

Keith: Naw well, that’s only something you and Marion could do

Jack: No, perhaps that might be wrong

Keith & Nova: Huh?

Jack: Despite Nova’s appearance he is easily loved by children. With the exception of Marion, there’s also the children of his acquaintances and those in town that are quick to get along with him, isn’t it so?

Nova: Aah, now that you mention it, that might be it? I did notice I was being treated as a friend rather than an adult

Nova: Like I’m poked fun at and taken care of…. even though I’m an old man who’s age is showing~?

Keith: Dunno ‘bout that… That tantrum from earlier wasn’t all too different from Little Faith’s

Jack: Keith, how about trying it out too?

Keith: ...Eeh?

Jack: Your behaviour might be too “adult”-like

Jack: Why don’t you try to deceive him by following Nova’s example?

Keith: Nah, naw, there’s no need to…

-

---The next morning

Little Faith: Leonard-oniichan! I finished washing my face and brushing my teeth!

Junior: Ooh, how good of you. Then, guess we’ll continue playing that game

Little Faith: Yaay♪

Keith: ……….

Faith: Haah, games in the morning again….? Ochibi-chan’s totally way too soft with him

Faith: Keith, bathroom’s open. Did you wash yourself yet?

Keith: ……..

Faith: Keith? Are you listening?

Keith: NoOOooOoO~! I dun’ wanna, I dun wanna wash my fwace~~~!!

Faith & Junior: !!!!???

Keith: ……………

Junior: Are… are you okay, Keith?

Keith: ….Hm?

Faith: Just how much did you have to drink this early in the morning? This is seriously scary, I’ll go get Dino…

Keith: !? Wait that’s not-, I ain’t dru-

Junior: Chibi DJ, don’t look at this. Ignore it, ignore all of it.

Little Faith: Yeah, okay….

Keith: Why!!!???

Keith: Why did it turn out like thiiiiiiiis-!?

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 21

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month

Patrolling with Gotham’s vigilantes is somehow the least chaotic part of their day, emphasises on Least!

First< Previous > Next

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

“So you want to explain how you let the Joker go?” Sparrow asks Red Hood, as they pour over plans.

“It happens,” Red Hood shrugs, but she is willing to bet he has a similar expression to Songbird right about now.

“Right, i just want to know how ,” She pushes more, getting Songbird to blush more

“Hey!" Songbird interrupts, getting the attention of the rest of the Bats with them, "I’m good at tracking people,”

“Thats nice,” Nightwing says, gearing up to search for the Joker with Red Hood.

“What I mean is I should come with you while Sparrow goes in the opposite direction,” Songbird turns to glare at her, “Far away,”

“Why would you want that,” Sparrow leans into his space, getting her face pushed away, “I’m just asking a professional question,”

“I have known you for little over a week nothing you do is professional,” Robin tsks, still sour about getting put on Patrol with her instead of going after the Joker.

“Well that’s simply not true,” Sparrows's voice comes out mumbled as marion smooshes her face.

“Right so you will follow the lead Nightwing has,” Batman pushes Songbird towards Red Hood, the greatest detective not notices the growing blush, “You three are patrolling together,”

“What could go wrong,” Red Robin sighs, resigning to patrol with both her and Robin.

“Try not to fall through any windows,” Sparrow calls, as they move to swing in opposite directions,

“Ha ha...I make no promises,” He mutters, heard through super hearing, before shouting, "See you later Captain!

Marinette leaves with Robin and Red Robin. The two bicker until oracle alerts them of three people attacking a girl in an alley a block over. In a matter of seconds of their arrival the three were disarmed and unconscious. Marinette goes to comfort the victim Alya?!

“Al- are you alright?” Sparrow reaches out to help her up.

“Yes, I’m fine thanks,” Alya dusts herself off, finally looking up, “Um, who are you?”

“Sparrow, working in Gotham temporarily,” She says professionally, hoping beyond hope that Alya does not recognise her.

“Right,” She surprisingly misses the chance for an interview, “Listen I need to talk to Batman, is he here?”

“Sorry miss he’s in another part of Gotham what seems to be your issue?” Red Robin answers for her.

“I need to talk to him about something really important,”

“Sorry, but if you’re looking for an interview Batman is very busy,” Sparrow brushes her off, of course she would be salivating to interview Batman.

“What? no-I’m,”

“We have to go, the police will be here soon,” Robin cuts her off, leaving with a Tt.

“Wait!”

“How annoying,” Robin spits, as they leave Alya behind in the alley.

“How did you know she wanted an interview?” Red Robin asks instead.

“Just know the type,”

“HEY!” Alya calls, chasing after them in the street below, “Just wait a minute!”

“Do you think we should stop?” Sparrow asks, feeling guilt claw at her.

“No,” Robin speeds up.

“Please! I really need to talk with you!” Alya begs, “It’s about Paris!”

“Paris?” Robin exchanges a knowing glance with Red Robin.

“We should stop,” Red Robin decides, they come to a halt.

They wait on the edge of the building, so Alya can see their shadows at the top. Alya starts sprinting up the fire escape.

“Tha-Thank you,” She pants, leaning over.

“What's this about Paris?” Robin demands, somehow glaring down at her despite being significantly shorter.

“The Akuma attacks!” Alya explodes, as if it's the most obvious thing, probably is, “Have you heard of Ladybug and Chat Noir? Hawk Moth?!”

“The situation in Paris has recently come to our attention,” Red Robin answers cordially.

“Well it’s been like this since I was thirteen!” Taking them both aback slightly, “And it's only getting worse every day,”

“The heroes of Paris have proved to be capable,” How did Red Robin even know about them?

“That's not what I mean, it’s the emotional toll,” Alya is still out of breath, Sparrow stands off to the side, joining in would only risk her identities, “Do you know what it’s like to be afraid to feel negative emotions? To have to constantly be happy otherwise you could kill your whole family!”

“I’m sure your heroes can handle it,” Robin concedes, bitterness hanging from the tone.

“They can but they shouldn't have to!”

Alya takes her aback with another out burst, stepping towards the Bats.

“I was… I used to be called in by them from time to time, and let me tell you,” Alya pauses, she was probably still mad about getting benched, loving her position as Rena Rouge, “It’s terrifying,”

Now that... that is a surprise.

“Not even the hero part… most the time,” Alya rubs her arm, “But you can’t get Akumatized again otherwise Hawk Moth will know, he can target your friends and family,”

At least she finally understood the need to keep secret identities.

“Ladybug hasent called me in in years,” Alya admits, actually looking shameful, "I don’t know how I messed up,”

Thats the problem

“But I know that I’m glad Ladybug never gave me the miraculous again,”

Wait... WHAT!

“It was so stressful having all of paris, sometimes the world, depending on you,” Alya looks on the verge of tears, “At first I though it was fun because I had Ladybug who seemed so strong and unstoppable, someone I could look up to, for always being there, always put together, she didn't seem to have a weakness,”

That- That could not be further from the truth

“Not that I don’t still respect her, it’s just different now,” Alya backtracks, “I saw it, sometimes, the uncertainty there, it made me think she’s just like me, scared, but she doesn't have anyone stronger to protect her, she’s all alone,"

I have Chat Noir!

“I look up to her so much more now, it’s not a fun job and I know she’s afraid she cant protect everyone, so Hawkmoth needs to be defeated,”

Alya looks every inch the confident reporter Marinette had first met. The one before Lila came and sapped all her strength and independence.

“Ladybug deserves to live in peace,” Alya decides, almost glaring down the other two, “Will you please help her?”

“We already have plans of going to Paris soon to assist,” Red Robin informs.

“You do?!”

“Thank you,” Alya burst into tears, while Marinette is still reeling from the new information, “Thank you so much,”

“How about we escort you back to your hotel?”

They carry Alya to the hotel, swinging through the night. They see her in and set up a watch across the building. They report into Batman, granting permission to stake out for a while. They watch as Alya is talking with the group, including Lila in her room. Marinette could feel the irritation radiating off the other two at Lila’s nonsense.

“Is this necessary?” Robin glares down at the window they are watching through, “She didn’t have any valuable insight,”

“She was a hero in Paris,” Red Robin sighs, evidently glaring just as much, “That's something,”

“And she clearly got the boot for being incompetent,”

“You don’t know that,” Alya had actually been a great fox, but when Marinette could no longer trust her as a civilian, she knew Alya could never wield another miraculous, “Which is why we are watching, follow every possible lead, especially when they’re scarce,”

“Hey listen,” Red Robin nods towards the speaker, connected to the bug he planted on her.

“Marinette really needs to think things through,” Lila whines, all three go to turn it down at the same time, “It’s like she wants the class to get in trouble,”

“But Marinette protected us from Scarecrow,” Rose squeaks out.

“And Marion!” Nino adds, as if they didn't just commit treason in Lila land.

“Of course, it’s just they know all this trouble is following them around and they’re still-” Lila pauses long enough for everyone to be on the edge of their seats, “No never mind,”

“What is it Lila,”

“Well…” Lila plays like she isn't going to tell them everything that never happened, “I was talking to Marinette in the elevator and I told her I felt really unsafe and scared that another villain was going to attack,”

“Mari-Marinette started yelling at me about how I was trying to ruin her trip!” Lila's lip quivers, so painfully obvious she can see it from here, “She said if I felt unsafe I should just stay behind or go back to Paris!”

“Do you feel that unsafe Lila?” Mylene asks, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Wha-”

“Yeah if you’re that scared you should tell your parents,” Kim encourages, enthusiastic, but concerned, “I’m sure you’ll feel better back home with Ladybug,”

“You guys don’t understand,” Lila almost shouts, losing grip on her perfect persona, “Marinette wasn't worried about me; she just wanted me out of the way! Because- well I don’t know why! I think she can just be really cruel sometimes,”

“That little disgusting worm!” Robin makes a grab for his katana.

“Yeah so I hacked the security footage and they have never been in a room alone together,” Red Robin reports, scrolling through a video feed, “Let alone an elevator,”

“Let’s just go,” Sparrow grabs them both by the arms, “I think we’ve exhausted our information,”

She practically drags them off the roof, a few blocks away. Robin’s pacing looking for something to stab. At this rate it’s probably going to be Red Robin, who’s been tapping away at his screen the whole time. Sparrow finds her saving grace, spotting a park down below.

“Let’s go,”

She drags them despite their protests down to the playground. Robin is grumbling the whole time, so she sits him down on the swing, and pushes him. Red Robin starts laughing and may or may not be filming.

“I am perfectly capable of pushing myself!”

“Really have you ever been on a swing before?” She leans over, getting in his face.

“Tt, of course not,” He looks away, “So childish,”

“Well that just means a child can do something you cannot,”

It's really Red Robins laughter that truly breaks him.

“... do not push me,”

“Alright, how about I show you?” She hops on the swing next to him, “Like this,”

Robin copies her form as Red Robin keeps filming, shouting out scores in the negative numbers.

“So help me I will stab you if you don't!-” Robin tips off balance and falls off the swing backwards, “ RED ,”

“That was very good for a first time,” Marinette helps him stand back up, “Keep it up and you might be able to go toe to toe with the three year olds one day,”

They spend the rest of patrol getting chased around the park by Robin, both hurling out insults and condescending reassurance.

Marion had not run into any buildings yet thank you very much. He had ran into a cell phone tower.

“Are you alright?” Red hood lands in front of him.

Marion glares at him upside down, hanging off the bars, as if this wasn't all his fault,

“Fine,” And because he can’t possibly be anymore embarrassed, “Just like you,”

“Of course I’m fine,” He crosses his arms, Marion definitely doesn't give him the once over, “I didn’t just run into a cell tower,”

He’s an idiot!..... He’s perfect

It does not help that Nightwing bursts out laughing.

“Little wing… no,” Nightwing gasps through his laughter.

“What are you-” Red Hood stiffens up, “oh,”

Mayday! Mayday! Abort! Abort! BACK TO PARIS!!! Wheres the Rabbit Miraculous!!!

“Oh,” Red Hood leans in, inches away, “Hell yeah I am,”

Sorry to inform you Marion has now died, Red Hood is indeed a murderer

Unfortunately before Marion has another opportunity to embarrass himself  Oracle calls in and they both swing off. Leaving Marion to catch up. They eventually stop for a break without crashing into another building… it was a light graze ok?!

“I swear you and Sparrow are my new favourites,” Nightwing scarfs down another macaron.

“Careful golden boy,” Red Hood warns, stealing a macaron from Nightwing, “You’ll get a lecture form the Bat,”

“Batman can fuck off,” Marion shoves one in his mouth, “He probably lives off protein shakes and brooding,”

“Oh my-,” Red Hood cracks up, “I don’t think I've ever heard you swear,”

“What can I say,” Marion leans back, looking over Red Hood, “You bring out the best in me,”

“I think I’d rather bring out the worst in you,”

… No Marion is not blushing, he is not stuttering, he has everything under control thank you very much.

“Are- are you actually going to eat that?” Marion chokes out, Red Hood still holding his stolen macaron.

That turns out to be the worst possible thing he could have said, because Red hood actually takes off his helmet. There is a domino mask underneath but this is the first time Marion is seeing his face.

“Songbird are you ok?” Nightwing asks.

“I will never be ok again,” Marion falls back across the roof, “Ok is a state before perfection and I can never feel anything but joy after seeing that,”

“Ummm,” Nightwing looks awkwardly between the two.

“You’re pretty,” Marion turns, curling around to look at Red Hood.

“Not handsome?” And fuck he’s smiling, fuck.

“No,” Marion says harshly,“Gorgeous,”

Red Hood looks completely shocked. And god he can actually see his face! And expressions! This is wonderful!

“Yes… well,” Nightwing clears his throat, “We should probably move on,”

“Jealous?” Red Hood teases.

“No, let’s just go,” Nightwing stands, Marion sighs and sits back up.

“It’s alright Golden boy,” Red Hood punches him in the shoulder as he stands, “Plenty of people still think you’re pretty,”

Marion has to stop himself from ripping the helmet out of Red Hood’s hands when he goes to put it back on.

“That’s not what this is about Hood,”

“Sure it’s not,” Red Hood winks at Songbird just before he puts the helmet back on, as if that didn’t cause him cardiac arrest.

They continue along their search equal parts flirting with each other and teasing Nightwing.

“Oi! Shelly!”

Marion looks behind him, mid-swing to spot a familiar taxi driver,”

“Norris!” Marion spins around, landing in front of the man.

“You’re patrolling with them?” Norris nods towards the other two hiding in the shadows, “Where’s your sister?”

“Yeah! Decided on a codename, it’s Songbird actually,”

“Nah,” Norris leans against the hood of his car, “Shelly suits you better,”

“Hell yeah it does!”

Bruce waits for the others to finish up patrol in the Batcave. He has to talk to them about the twins at some point, the sooner the better, before they go back to Paris. It’s just so hard. Would they even accept someone new into the family?

“Father!” Damian shouts the moment he enters the cave, “I demand you adopt Sparrow immediately,”

“What, why?”

“She is a good warrior,” From Damian that is very high praise .

“And helps you skip patrol,” Tim adds, going directly for his after patrol coffee.

“You were complicit in that Drake!”

“You skipped patrol,” Bruce sighs, partly disappointed, partly curious Damian was usually excited for patrol.

“Not really we were watching that student from Paris we told you about,” Tim states, Bruce nods along, “They were talking to another student in the class who is-”

“A filthy liar,” Damian spits, “I have meet them once and know Marinette is far more honourable than that,”

“Lila?” Bruce guesses, thinking back to the fair, on the other hand at least Damian doesn't seem to hate them.

“How did you know?” Tim asks, taking the reports from the desk as he downs the coffee.

“I was with them the other day-”

“Father if you are planning to adopt them I insists you adopt Sparrow first,”

“We’re adopting Sparrow?!” Dick calls, as he walks in with Jason, “Cause we should also adopt Songbird,”

“Are you so offended you would go this far to thwart me?” Jason recites theatrically, “You should really learn to control that jealousy,”

“What happened?” Bruce grows suspicious watching Dick glare.

“Songbird flirted with me,” Jason grins, perhaps a little too widely, “And ignored Dick,”

“I’m not jealous, just worried,”

“Thanks,” Jason looks away bitterly, tone getting harsher.

“That's not what I meant Jason,” Dick cringes, having ruined his good mood.

“What did you mean then?” Jason bites out, making Dick recoil.

“Enough, I’m not adopting them!” Bruce shouts, making everyone pause.

“... That’s probably the first time you ever said that,”

"Alfred!" Jason jumps, Bruce tenses at him reflexively reaching for his gun, "Where the fuck did you come from!?"

"I think you will end up adopting them one way or another Master Bruce,"

"What do you mean," Bruce asks as Alfred takes Tim's coffee.

"Well I think it's time everyone retires for the night,"

"ALFRED! what do you mean!"

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd

[austim]

Indiana Jones requester, just curious as to if theres a reason why you dont wish to do the stimboard? Apologies if it's an intrusive question, I'm not mad just curious ^^"

I'll be honest, I grew up watching the movies and still feel some nostalgia for them, but I can't really look past the fact that Indiana Jones was 26 when he was in a relationship with Marion Ravenwood, who was 16. He was born in 1899, she was born in 1909, it's just... gross. She even says, "I was a child. I was in love. It was wrong and you knew it!"

[truecrimeweekly]

Aileen Wuornos

This week's post was inspired by one of my favorite movies, Monster. This murderer still raises so much conspiracy even almost twenty years after her death. Was this woman a victim? Or was she simply a monster?

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of murder, rape, incest, sexual assault and abuse

Aileen “Lee” Carol Wuornos, born Aileen Pittman, was born on February 29, 1956 in Rochester, Michigan. Her parents, Diane Wuornos and Leo Dale Pittman, were very young when they had her. Diane was only fourteen and Leo was sixteen. Aileen never got to meet her father due to him spending time in mental institutions and prison for child molestation. Eventually, he killed himself in prison. When Aileen was four, her mother abandoned her and her older brother, Kieth. She left them with their grandparents, Lauri and Britta Wuornos. They officially adopted Kieth and Aileen on March 18, 1960. Being with her grandparents, her life wasn’t much better. Both Lauri and Britta were alcoholics and Aileen claimed that her grandfather physically and sexually abused her. She also claimed that he would allow his friends to do the same. She also had sexual relations with her brother. When Aileen was eleve, she began performing sexual favors in exchange for drugs or food. At fourteen, Aileen got pregnant and was placed into a home for unwed mothers, The baby was put up for adoption. Some sources say the baby’s father was her brother, others say it was an older friend of her grandfathers. I tried to find any information on the baby now, but since it was a closed adoption, there is no information to find and he most likely has no idea who his biological mother is. Shortly after Aileen returned home her grandmother passed away and her grandfather kicked her out of the house. In order to support herself, Aileen worked as a prostitute. 

In 1976, Aileen met a wealthy yacht club owner named Lewis Gratz Fell. They got married that same year, Lewis was sixty-nine at the time. Just nine weeks after their wedding, Lewis filed for divorce and got a restraining order against Aileen after she attacked him with his cane. After this, she continues her life as a prostitute. By this time, Aileen had already started her life of crime. In 1974, she was arrested for driving under the influence, disorderly conduct, and firing a .22 caliber pistol out of a moving vehicle. She failed to show up to court. In 1981, she was involved in a convenience store armed robbery. She was sentenced to prison in May of 1982 and released the following year in June. In 1986, a year Aileen would never forget, she was charged with car theft, resisting arrest, and threatening a male companion with a gun. Police also found a .22 caliber pistol and spare ammunition in her car. That same year Aileen met the one person she truly ever loved, Tyria “Ty” Moore, at a biker bar in Daytona Beach, Florida. This would be Aileen’s longest relationship, lasting four years. Aileen took care of Ty, supporting them by prostituting. Ty claimed to disapprove of this but she never left.

In December of 1989, Aileen committed her first murder. She claimed that her victim had raped her and she killed him in self defense. Though it was never brought up in court, this victim had previously done time in prison for sexual assault. He was shot six times, but the two bullets that hit his lungs were the ones that killed him. In June of 1990, her second victim was found naked and shot multiple times with a .22 caliber pistol. Days later, another body was found but was too decomposed to identify right away. Due to the similarities with the previous murders, police suspected they were killed by the same person. On July 4, 1990, a car belonging to a missing merchant seaman was found crashed. Witnesses described two women that were seen leaving the car. Police suspected Aileen after hearing the description and finding a bloody handprint that matched a fingerprint found on an item belonging to the first victim. In August of 1990, the body of a delivery driver was found shot twice also with a .22 caliber pistol. The following month, a former police chief was found in Marion County shot six times with the same gun. In November 1990, the naked body of a truck driver was found shot four times also with the same gun less than twenty-four hours after he was murdered. 

Now this next part, since I want to keep it unbiased, I’m going to tell you what I found while doing research, then I’ll tell you what I believe. Please keep in mind when you read my opinion that it is just that. I may be wrong but it is what I believe happened. When Ty realized her and Aileen were wanted, she moved back to live with her sister. Police got into contact with her and made a deal. If she convinced Aileen to confess to the murders, she would be immune to any and all consequences. Ty agreed and on January 14, 1991 she began to call Aileen, pushing her to confess, saying she was scared to go to jail. Aileen promised her she wouldn’t let that happen. Two days later Aileen confessed to killing seven men and expressed that Ty was innocent. During the trial, Ty testified against Aileen. This was when Aileen figured out that Ty was responsible for her capture and began to cry when their recorded phone calls played. Ty claimed she knew only of the first murder and told Aileen she didn’t want details because she feared having to call the police if she knew more. She claimed that Aileen didn’t seem hurt or upset when she told her that she had murdered her first victim. Ty claimed to be suspicious after Aileen kept bringing back more and more stolen property. Now, here’s what I believe happened. I think that Ty not only knew about the murders but assisted Aileen either with the killing or with hiding the bodies. I think she was a coward who didn’t want to take responsibility for what she had done so she let Aileen take the blame knowing she would because of how much Aileen loved her. I think this is why she is so protective over her identity and why she refused to let the director of Monster depict her in any way other than being Aileen’s girlfriend. (No Selby is not a depiction of Ty and her character is made up to avoid any issues.) Again, this is just my opinion. 

Only Aileen’s first murder made it to trial where she was charged with first degree murder, armed robbery with a deadly weapon and possesion of firearm of a convicted felon. Later she pleaded guilty for the six other murders, receiving a death penalty for each one. At first she had tried to say all seven murders were in self defense but  later took back her statement saying only the first was self defense. On October 9, 2002, Aileen was executed by lethal injection in Florida State Prison. Her last words were, “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day with Jesus June 6th. Like the movie, big mother ship and all. I’ll be back.” What do you think? Was she a victim? A monster? Both?

Let me know who you would like to see next.

[pawthorn]

Eyes of Nein

Six vignettes of reactions and conversations revolving on the strange connection between Lucien and Caduceus Clay.

Part 6: Veth

Veth barrelled into Caduceus' room without knocking.

"Alright, where are those fuckers?" She yelled. "Are they in here? Are you hiding them?"

She slammed the door behind her as Caduceus and Jester looked over. They were sitting together by the fire, looking cozy, comfortable, and completely innocent.

Which Veth found extremely suspicious.

"Uh…" said Caduceus. "No?"

"You didn't even ask who I was talking about," she said as she approached the couch, crossbow loaded and ready. "If you're not hiding anyone, how do you already know who I'm looking for?"

"I don't," said Caduceus. "But I'm not hiding anyone. So I don't have to ask who you're looking for to know I haven't hid them."

Veth did a little verbal math before nodding.

"Alright, you're off the hook," she set her sights on Jester. "What about you, Lavorre? You're awfully quiet over there..."

"Who are you looking for, Veth?" Jester asked, calmly sipping her tea.

"Why are you asking!?" Veth demanded. "Like Caduceus said, an innocent person wouldn't need to ask!"

"To be fair," Caduceus said. "She might be hiding somebody you're not looking for. Seems wrong to force her to give that information up, if it's not what you need."

"That's true, Veth," Jester nodded. "Do you really want me to divulge all my private contacts, when you might not even care about them?"

Veth hesitated.

"I mean, yeah," she said. "I kind of want to hear who's on that list…"

"Veth!"

"Okay, okay," she disarmed her crossbow and threw herself into a chair across from the Clerics. "It's Beau and Yasha! Beau and I had it all sorted out. I was going to take tonight to spend some quality time with Yasha, and Beau was going to do the same with Caduceus. But I've been searching this place since after dinner, and I can't find either of them anywhere! So, do you think we should tell the others? Form search parties?"

Jester and Caduceus shared a look of… amusement maybe?

"I think that Beau probably misunderstood you," Jester shrugged. "Maybe she and Yasha are hanging out somewhere and you just missed them."

"Maybe," Veth said, accepting the tea Caduceus poured out and handed her. "These Tomb Takers are dangerous though. None of us should be running around playing hide-and-seek while they're here. And we definitely shouldn't be alone with any of them."

At that, Caduceus winced and Jester nervously sipped her tea.

"Okay, what was that?!" Veth said.

"What!?" Jester said.

"Jester," Veth said, leaning forward. "Have you been alone with one of them? It's the halfling, isn't it? You're trying to cut me out of the detective agency!"

"Stop," Caduceus said. "It wasn't her. It was me. I had tea with Lucien. Nothing happened. It's fine."

"What!?" Veth said. "Why would you do that? He murders people, Caduceus!"

"Well, he didn't murder me," Caduceus said, bristling slightly.

"But we don't know what other powers he has," Veth said. "He could have brainwashed you. You could be one of his hive-mind now!"

"Then I guess you shouldn't drink any more of that tea," Caduceus said mildly, sipping from his own cup.

Veth looked from her cup to Caduceus and back again.

"Kidding," he said. "Honestly, Ms. Veth, we had a perfectly normal, reasonable conversation. Nothing to worry about."

"But you didn't even know Molly," Veth said, still trying to wrap her brain around unassuming, mild-mannered Caduceus having tea with Lucien. "What could you even talk about? You have nothing in common!"

"What do I have in common with any of you?" Caduceus said sharply.

The statement landed like an anvil. Silence stretched uncomfortably for a long moment.

"Oh!" Jester said with forced cheer. "I know something the three of us have in common. We've all got families who love us!"

Some of the tension drained from the room, but a new heaviness replaced it. A heaviness Veth knew she shared with Caduceus.

"You're right, Jester, we do," Caduceus said, eyes sliding from Veth's. "How are things with Ms. Marion? Has she heard from the Gentleman recently?"

It was a good deflection, and Veth was grateful for it. As Jester launched into her answer, Veth took a moment to breathe through the sudden tide of emotions that gripped her. Longing, worry, love, guilt… And looking at Caduceus, she knew she wasn't the only one feeling it.

Caduceus understood what the responsibility was like, not just to have a family, but to have a family waiting for you. A family to go back to . It was different for Jester. Her parents didn't expect her to return, not permanently, anyway. After all, she was a kid, and kids are supposed to be free to go out into the world…

She stumbled in her own thinking as she looked at Caduceus. He wasn't a wise old sage, not really. She had known it when he first tried alcohol. When he sat, shivering and small, on the deck of a ship. When he played that ridiculous bone flute. When he ran to his mom and she scooped him up in a hug. When he didn't notice that he was being propositioned. When he had tea with a dangerous stranger and thought nothing of it. He was as young as Jester, really.

"...And you know, I just realized, I still have some spells left," Jester was saying. "I think I'm going to go Send some messages to my parents!"

She hopped off of the sofa, and started toward the door. Caduceus rose to walk her to the doorway, and stayed there to watch her ascend safely to her room. Closing the door with a gentle click, he returned to his place and settled with a sigh.

"She seems happy," he said. "That's good. The last few days have been hard on her."

"Not just her," Veth said.

"True," Caduceus sighed. "Sorry for snapping earlier."

"No, no," Veth waved him off. "I shouldn't have pushed."

Veth took a moment to study Caduceus. He looked small in this room. It was the way he held himself, Veth realized. He was used to taking up less space, keeping everything contained to fit surroundings that weren't built with him in mind. In a room filled with furniture his size, he seemed diminished, swallowed up. She wondered if the opposite was true for her. Maybe she no longer fit in little halfling chairs and tables, or the little halfling home she had once loved. It certainly felt smaller, these days.

"I'm glad she could Send a message to your family," Veth said. "So that you know they're safe. I'm sure you miss them."

"Of course," said Caduceus. "And it is good to know that they're safe. I'm glad that you could spend some time with your family, although I know it wasn't much."

"It was alright," Veth said. "Honestly, it's kind of strange to spend time with them while we're in the middle of adventuring. It's nice to be able to see them, and I love them both very much, but I love all of you as well. I end up feeling like I'm cheating them and the Nein. Like I'm letting everyone down, in some way. It's like being torn in two."

"I understand that," Caduceus nodded. "Believe me, I do."

"Is that why you made a clean break with your family?" Veth said. "Sent them back to the Grove with Reani instead of us taking them there?"

"I mean," Caduceus shifted. "You all had already spent enough time on me, there were other things to do."

"We would have made time, Caduceus," Veth said. "We spent, what, three days getting your family business sorted? Maybe four? It wasn't the rest of us who were in a hurry."

"I know," Caduceus said, ears drooping. "It's easier to tell myself that. But you're right. It's… uncomfortable to be with them and with the Nein. But not like being pulled in two. It's like… like being two people at once. Who I was with them, and who I am with you. It was strange."

"You could have taken some time with them though," said Veth. "We'd have given you space. Ten years is a long time to be apart."

Something flashed in Caduceus' eyes. For a moment, Veth could see the weight of those years, usually tucked away and borne secretly. It reminded her of Caleb, the way he sometimes lost himself in the past. It reminded her of her own eyes, reflected up from still and threatening water.

"Do you know what my mom said?" Caduceus spoke quietly, eyes focussed on his tea. "She said she thinks I'm the only one who could have saved them. Saved the Grove."

"It sounds like she's proud of you," Veth thought of Luc and her hopes for him. She thought of the  kindness and help Caduceus continually showed. "I know I would be."

Caduceus looked up in surprise, ears lifting.

"But if that's true," he said, brow furrowed. "I shouldn't have waited ten years to leave. I should have been the first to go."

Veth thought about that, really thought.

"Look," she said. "I don't know about fate and gods and all of that. I do know that parents don't always get it right. We try. But sometimes we mess up. And it's the worst thing, to mess up in a way that hurts your child. But it wasn't your choice to stay, not really. Not when everyone else was choosing to leave. And Caduceus, you should not have been left alone for so long."

Caduceus' eyes were wide and wet. Veth could see his throat working, though no sound came out.

"I don't mean to judge your parents," she said. "They couldn't have known what would happen. But you were left in a terrible situation. And I'm glad that you ended up with us, but there was nothing good about the circumstances that brought us together. And it took a lot of faith and courage on your part to trust us, to leave with us and help us. No parent could expect more from their child. Not even a Wildmother."

They sat in silence as Veth's words settled. Caduceus gazed into his tea, looking a bit shattered. Tentatively, Veth left her seat to climb onto the couch beside him. Standing on the seat next to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, petting his hair as she did with Luc when he was hurt or afraid. She felt Caduceus relax into the circle of her arms, breathing deeply as he worked through his feelings. Eventually, she pulled away, holding his face in her hands. She produced a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted away the wet streaks in his fur.

"Thanks," he said, smiling and unashamed as he met her gaze. "I think I needed that."

"Any time, Ducey," she said. "We're here for you."

She patted his head one last time before hopping down.

"I think we should both get some rest," she said. "I'll see you in the morning."

Caduceus nodded and walked her to the door. He kept watch as she ascended slowly through the center of the Tower. Once she was out of sight and she heard his door click shut, she paused.

Down, she thought, silently.

Quiet as a shadow, Veth drifted back to Caduceus' floor. She looked at his door, and Yasha's. Then, she turned to glare at the guest room door.

Standing there, Veth thought about family and responsibility. She thought about dangers, both internal and external, and how a person could drown on dry land under the weight of it all. She thought about her friends, how badly she wanted them all safe and cared for.

Then, gingerly, Veth extracted a banana peel from her bag. She carefully placed it in front of the guest room door.

Nodding to herself, she turned away, rising through the center of the tower to a peaceful night's rest.

Read Part 1

[lucarioisinthevoid]

What would everyone think of king Afton?

After many years of the animatronics killing nightguards, they finally caught William and killed him. But as you know from my ask about Goldie and Cassidy, Cassidy lied saying it wasn't him. When humans found out the animatronics were sentient, they locked all animatronics underground, including all the nightguards that were stuffed. Which meant Afton was still around to mess with the animatronics and the dead kids. When animatronics started getting the hang of having a society, springtrap (as how he went by in his suit. It became common among stuffed humans to make up names for themselves instead of using their human names) became the town nuisance. He basically caused trouble just get reactions, everyone just ignored him and pissed him off.

A few years later, about a week after Golden Freddy's and Cassidy's death, the guards were waiting for orders from king Fazbear, Bonnie was subcoming to guilt and depression seeing the situation with Goldie and Cassi as his fault, the Marionette was mourning the death of another child in her room, and Freddy was in his palace thinking. He honestly didn't know how to feel in the moment of their deaths, so he just kept thinking about it knowing the should feel something, like sad or angry.

Springtrap snuck inside the palace, almost too easily. When he was sneaking in, a human fell down. Freddy went to investigate, with springtrap following behind in the shadows. The human that fell sorta looked like Cassidy, except she had gold blonde hair, but that was the only difference. It was like the world wanted to play a joke on Freddy, "hey look!!! A little girl that looks like both of your now dead friends!!! Isn't that funny?!!?!" How dare the world. Before he could even think, all the feelings he should have felt flooded through him, the sadness of loosing the people he loves, the guilt of being unable to prevent their deaths, and the anger towards humanity for killing people he held close to his soul. Without thinking, he projected his anger towards humans on the child, and mercilessly killed her.

He was brought back to his senses when William started laughing and applauding the show before him. Freddy then attacked him, nearly killing him before realizing in this moment he was no better than him. After this realization, he declared war on humanity. The Marionette ran away back to the ruins never to be heard from again, and springtrap was made into the new royal adviser. Freddy hired him as royal adviser in hopes that maybe Afton could teach him to be more merciless.

The only reason why he was so merciless as a killer was because Chara made him think he was insane, and he was a player's puppet. He lived his own life so many times, why would it matter if he killed people if he knew they were going to be fine when he wakes up yesterday? Now Chara became dormant, and the players stopped controlling him. Kinda ironic how he's now feeling powerless despite now having complete control of his body.

He began to feel regret for everything his done. The many people he's killed, the many people he let stay dead. He was no longer above his actions. He was no longer above consequences. This made him fall into despair and depression.

After years of being royal adviser, Freddy gave him a title of king, trusting him enough to rule beside him as brothers. After he was crowned, him and Fazbear became closer, like actual brothers.

But they had disagreements, like all siblings do. Except their disagreements had to do with life and death. Freddy would argue with Afton over killing humans, he'd say that he needed to kill humans and collect their souls in order to set them all free. Afton would argue saying that everyone had already suffered enough, and that more children didn't deserve to die. When ever human children fall down and leave the Marionette's protection in the ruins, he would try and protect the children from Freddy, in hopes that he might be able to talk him out of killing them. Usually the kids flat out give up and let themselves be killed. Afton stopped trying to protect the kids after a 5 year old gave up her life to Fazbear.

King Afton, with the help of doctor Bonnie, removed his suit, and rebuilt Springbonnie and Fredbear. Fredbear remembered how Afton used spring for murder, but thankfully Springbonnie didn't remember how he was used. He didn't even remember the surface, he just knew who he was, who his brother Fredbear was, and that Afton was one of the people that made him. Afton talked with Fredbear privately about how times had changed from 1987 to now, when Fredbear was shut down to when he was rebuilt. Fredbear didn't remember the bite of 87, and his memories of the surface weren't any better. All he remembered was kids, the layout of the diner, and the stars he'd look at out the window.

Once Afton explained everything, leaving out the bite incident, Fredbear to forgive the poor corpse for everything he's done. He didn't trust him, he just forgave him. Fredbear and Springbonnie then left Afton's room where they were rebuilt and started living their own lives.

This Afton is a more forgivable, and melancholy version of Afton.

What would everyone in your AU think of King Afton?

First up, very interesting take, though now all the pressure of the “why did you kill” are put on Chara. The concept of Afton getting EXP from stuffing children into suits is wrecking me with laughter to be fully honest- this man must be buff- Everyone is a big number, but I can give you three main people, I think.

Marionette hates him- like all Williams. He doesn’t believe in redemption; he doesn’t believe in the concept of regret. Nobody ever regretted what happened to him, thus regret must be a hindering emotion at best- a liability at worst. Useless and hurtful. This William is pathetic! How can you go around killing children because of some fucking spirit?! And then being all regretful about it, as though it makes a difference?! Devaluing these murders even MORE! How much must he hate these children that he admits openly that his murders were pointless and soulless and now after decades something he would be taking back?! HOW DOES THAT HELP?! WHO?! HE DOESN’T DESERVE PITY. AND YOUR FREDDY, HE SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM FOR GOOD! SO WHAT IF YOU ARE “EQUALLY” AS BAD?! IF TWO WRONGS MEET AND ONE KILLS THE OTHER, THEN WE HAVE AT LEAST ONE RIGHT! There is nothing more appalling to him than regretting the evil deeds, because then you say you did those evil deeds out of weakness and selfishness and nothing else came from it. Marion doesn’t regret killing the guards. Marion DOESN’T regret killing the guards! (My Marionette would make a much more ruthless ruler of the underground than both William and Freddy combined…) Fredbear is actually somewhat happy. He feels terrible for everything that happened until then and that the Marionette had to leave home because of William returning and becoming an advisor- and of course, he’s agonizing about the fact that another child had to die. But in the end, there’s some reassurance in William just being another puppet, suffering the circumstances and now working for redemption. The children are still here in some way after all, with this new technology- once it is perfected, everyone can live the life they wanted. All he hopes is that William will be a force of good this time around and for good this time. He shouldn’t have crumbled to the timeloop, but… … things like that are mindbreaking, certainly. Not being yourself is extremely scary. And how can you be sure you ARE yourself? If he would have the chance to say anything to Afton, then it’s to not give protecting the children. They need you. They need someone to stand up for them. No matter how pointless it seems or how often you fail, continuing to try is what matters. Stay determined. You owe them this after all- you have proven your ability to use what’s inside of you for destruction, make sure that it will become good permanently. You need to wake up every morning and choose to do the right thing. They need you. Both the living and the dead. Old Sport thinks he’s a funny fucker. As someone in the same shoes as him- well, without that evil spirit thing, but still- he sees his acting out and then doing a 180° as pretty hilarious. Like, sure, you go dude, reinvent yourself as this regretful somebody who wants to help, Old Sport gets it, he has done stuff like that too- but being all mopey and melancholic about it? Just move on! If you were in a loop, what does it matter? Reset and restart. You didn’t feel bad doing it, right? So why feel bad now? What’s the point? Genuine question. You did the deed, you committed the crime and that was okay. And then you stuck to that timeline. Sorry, not sorry, you have nobody to blame but yourself. And that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to move on and change and make peace, that’s totally fine, but the way Old Sport sees it from the outside, there’s a lot of misplaced guilt. This is a story, right? … … even if Old Sport doesn’t like, part of him feels jealous. Afton lacked control over his body, but at least he had a soul, right? At least he HAS a kind of personality and sense of self. He can make himself into a consistent character, unlike Old Sport who has to pick and choose and never knows what to do- In his opinion, Afton needs to get a grip and be less ungrateful for the things he actually DOES have. Save the kids, kill the kids, whatever, protect your sense of self… but then at least be satisfied with your choices that came out of that sense of self. Guilt is a choice. Either regret and act or don’t and stay back.

[gauntie-o-dimm]

Dutch van der Linde | A Lesson About Ownership

Because a few members have been flirting with you during a heavy night of partying, Dutch has to set the record straight about to whom you belong.

Word count: 2900+ Warnings: Smut, swearing, alcohol abuse, semi-public sex 

The air reeked of drink and testosterone and Dutch van der Linde didn’t like it one bit. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy a good drinking-fest every now and then, and he was very glad that Sean McGuire had returned to camp right in time before being turned in to the authorities by a bunch of bounty hunters. No, something else was irking him till no end - the fact that said Irishman was trying to get your attention in a rather affectionate way. How dare he, Dutch pondered, after all he had risked for him! Was that a way to thank your superior?

But Dutch didn’t intervene just yet. He knew that you were loyal to him and wouldn’t give in to Sean’s fruitless attempts of wooing you. You were too kind - just waving him off with a small laugh and a light-hearted rejection.

The ‘stached man just sat there at a table, one hand clenched around a bottle of whiskey, the other balled to a fist underneath his chin, teeth scraping against his knuckles in an attempt to keep his cool.

“Ah, enjoying some alone time, I see.” there was no sarcasm in Hosea’s words, but a tinge of humor lingered. Dutch looked up to face his best friend for a second, taking in a sharp breath. The silver fox followed his gaze, eyes falling onto you, who was currently being coaxed for a dance on the giddy tune of Uncle’s banjo - you didn’t give in. 

“You know, she is right there and you are here sulking around. It’s not like there is nothing you can do. If anything, I’d say you were jealous.”

Dutch hated it that Hosea could see right through him - but they had been putting up together for decades, now. 

Yes, he was very possessive of you, but Mr van der Linde would never - ever - let his envy get the better of him, right? Sure, he wished he was the one over there making you laugh about some stupid joke. There was nothing else that would bring him more joy than to guide you onto the dance floor (just a small patch of grass, really), but something that he never wanted to show was weakness.

“It’s just a dance, you know.” Hosea muttered, taking a swig from his beer. “It ain’t like people are going to judge you for it. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t pass the opportunity to share another dance with my Bessie if she was still here. Spend time with the one you love while you still can, Dutch. She ain’t gonna stick around forever, and you know it. You’re not stupid, but I sincerely pray that you won’t make the same mistake again, like with miss O’Shea.” 

Dutch’s teeth gritted together, ringed fingers playing with the half-empty bottle in front of him. He kept quietly observing the scene, a jealous pang shooting through his chest as he witnessed Bill joining in on the conversation, daring to put an arm around your shoulders in a friendly way - at least, that was what he was trying to make it look like.

No, Dutch van der Linde knew better - he had caught Mr Williamson staring at you several times. He didn’t like it at all that he was so close to you.

There was a change of tune, a song that would certainly make everyone want to dance - apart from Uncle with his chronic lumbago - and before Dutch could comprehend what was unfolding, you were already dancing with both Sean and Bill. Even though it was not a romantic dance to be shared between lovers only, Dutch felt a unpleasant twist in his stomach. Seeing you have fun with in one hand some beer and the other resting on Sean’s shoulder; something didn’t sit quite right with him.

Hosea stood with the notice of having to empty his full bladder, walking off towards the side of the camp and leaving Dutch to his thoughts. How long had the gang leader known you for? Seven years? Eight?

You were long part of the gang when Molly joined. He recalled how broken your eyes had looked when he introduced you to each other. It wasn’t until later that he realized why that had been the case. And yet, he found you difficult to fathom. You were still like this unreachable vixen that had been there with him for such a long time, he was your lover for at least a year now and still he barely knew anything about you. Or maybe Hosea had been wrong about him and Dutch was indeed stupid. 

He tilted his chair backwards as he witnessed Bill resting his hands on your waist, trying to get you a little closer to him. The gang leader knew that said man was drunk and currently knew no boundaries, but it was all the more of a reason to keep a close eye on the situation.  Karen had started hollering obscene things towards the two, yelling to rent a room in Saint Denis and have a hot foursome with both her and Sean, and that was the moment that something within Dutch snapped. Even the ladies around camp had forgotten who you truly belonged to. 

With a thud, his chair fell to the ground. He didn’t bother picking it up as he took large strides over to you and Bill, who looked like they were getting pretty cozy. 

“Hey Marion, get your filthy paws off my beloved!” he barked, immediately silencing the sound of Uncle’s instrument.

All eyes were on him now, and his were resting on Bill, who was gritting his teeth - Dutch knew how much he despised being called by his birth name.  “It’s just a fucking dance, chief!” Bill spat back, breath reeking of drink and tobacco. Dutch visibly cringed, not knowing why on Earth you had enjoyed dancing with this vagrant. 

“Dutch, love, we were just dancing.” you tried calming him down, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned his gaze to you and you slightly gasped at what emotion was manifesting in his eyes. He was seething, grabbing your wrist firmly as he started to walk right through the crowd of gang members, pushing aside everyone in his way.

You couldn’t do anything else than follow like an obedient dog, trying to pry his fingers away from your arm. He got the hint, loosening it slightly. You weren’t the one wronging him after all. 

“It seems that the lot of you have forgotten something quite important! I know that I always say: ‘What is mine, is yours.’ However, that does not, and I repeat it does not... Apply to partners, be it touching her, flirting with her, trying to get into her pants.” 

Hosea had re-joined the ruckus and approached you and Dutch, trying to interrupt his speech by saying that Dutch was overreacting, but the gang leader didn’t give him the chance. 

“(Y/n) here, she belongs to me and only me. She is my girlfriend, my beloved, and you must be reminded about that! No one touches her but me and I will make sure that you lot will never forget that. I am going to fuck her so nicely right now that she will sing my name until dawn, and all of you, all of you, are going to listen to me do it. Do I make myself clear?” 

Hosea made a gesture towards young Jack, “But the boy.” Dutch momentarily eyed the young kid, rubbing his neck as he realized that he hadn’t taken him into account. From his pocket, he grabbed a wad of cash, throwing it towards Abigail, who was holding her hands over the child’s ears.

“You go to a nearby hotel, then, and keep the change for the inconvenience. The rest of you better open your ears really good.” 

At least he had the decency to wait until Abigail had left camp with her son, and it was a moment for you to collect your thoughts. What was he going to do to you? And why was no one talking back? Dutch was respected, but you figured even Hosea couldn’t crack through his thick skull right now. Instead the older man was standing a bit away, his eyes locking with yours for a moment as he shook his head slightly. In return, you shot him a helpless look, and he let out a sigh. There was nothing to be done about it now. 

You almost wanted to tell Dutch that you’d prefer it to go to a hotel room together instead, but you knew what he would say. How else would everyone hear that you belonged to him? You had to admit that the idea of it turned you on. The knowledge that in a few minutes you’d be whimpering underneath him made you clench your thighs together in excitement.  As soon as the light of Abigails lantern was invisible from between the trees, Dutch turned to the remaining members.  “So, don’t let me catch any of you turn away. Hosea, I trust that you will keep an eye out for me while I prove them something, alright?”  “Absolutely not, Dutch! You’re being a disgusting weasel!”

If someone else had been yelling those things at Mr van der Linde, they would’ve certainly ended up with a bullet between their eyes. But it was his best friend, so instead Dutch took a deep breath before responding: “No, I am being reasonable! I need to teach them a little lesson about boundaries if someone is in a relationship.” “Well, I am certainly not going to contribute to those filthy concepts of yours. If someone around this camp knows no bounds, it is you!” 

Dutch scoffed at Hosea before grabbing your arm again, taking you into his tent before pushing you onto his cot. The furs felt nice and slightly tickled your skin as you almost sunk away in them. Dutch turned to the opening in his tent and rolled down the flaps, tying them together firmly. 

“Do you want a romantic tune to be played, boss?” you heard Uncles voice from outside of the tent, who had already resumed the strumming on his banjo. You had to prevent yourself from laughing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Dutch barked loudly while gripping the front of your dress, practically tearing off the buttons as he bared your breasts. You gasped, throwing his hat to the side before you went to tangle in his hair the very moment he wrapped his lips around one of your exposed nipples. 

You arched your back into his mouth and he let out a low hum, roughly sucking on the small button that started to swell in his mouth. His moustache tickled, but you didn’t mind. The power behind his lips made your stomach tingle pleasantly when you realized what was in store for the rest of the night.  “Don’t hide those pretty sounds for me, but you certainly shouldn’t do it for them. They need to hear you, remember? And I am going to fuck you as long as it takes to get through to these thick-headed mongrels!” 

You whimpered at his words and the pressure his knee applied between your legs, your hips involuntary moving against him.  “Look at you being all desperate. You love feeling me in you, don’t you, darlin’?”  He slid his hands under your dress before taking it from you in a solid movement, leaving you in your bloomers alone. 

He eyed your exposed body for a few moment, his hands moving to rest upon your stomach. He slid them down, peeling your underwear off of you, and so you laid, completely nude whilst he was fully dressed apart from his hat. It made you feel even more vulnerable underneath his touch. 

Dutch gave an assuring smile, leaning down to press a few light kisses on your tummy and navel. You slightly whimpered, wriggling underneath his lips as he smirked, straddling your body, inching ever closer to your sex. 

But right as he was about to press his tongue between your folds, he pulled back, undoing his belt and coaxing his erection from his briefs. It was a familiar sight and he beckoned you closer, immediately telling you what to do.  And so you sat up, crawled towards him and took him in your hand. You collected some saliva in your mouth before letting a dollop of it fall onto his tip, covering his length in it as he grew stiff and ready for you. 

You moved your tongue around the head of his cock, catching the first few drops of his excitement from the slit on the top. Momentarily, he let you press a few open-mouthed kisses over the base before letting his hand slide in your hair, rings becoming tangled in the (h/c) locks. He grunted and rolled his hips forward, pushing himself past your slightly parted lips, forcing you to take him whole.

You slightly gagged, closing your eyes when tears appeared in the corners of them. Trying to keep a steady breathing, you swallowed around him, ignoring the lack of oxygen as you started to move your head. Dutch let out a moan, accompanied by a sound that came from you when he slid in even deeper and hit the back of your throat. It was wanton and saturated of lust. Everyone could hear you choking on his cock and the man in question loved every second of it. 

It was nearly as if you could feel their embarrassed eyes burn through the cloth of the tent, but the publicity of the act taking place only added to the sensation. You just hoped that the outlines of your bodies wouldn’t be projected like a shadow by the light of the candles around you. But then, if it were indeed visible... 

Your lover took two fistfuls of you hair and without any kind of warning, he started fucking your face. The sudden change of events made your airways become restricted. The fact that were looking more disheveled by the second 

You let out a gagging sound, for a moment believing you would either pass out or throw up, but Dutch pulled himself from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air, several tendrils of saliva connecting you to his swollen cock, tears and snot dribbling down your face. He smirked at you, rubbed some spit off your chin and gestured towards the bed. You obeyed, laying down and spread your legs for him.

For a moment, he lingered above you, taking off the remaining pieces of clothing that were still on your body. His skin was hot against yours, and as he pushed himself in, you moaned at the contact. He settled his arms next to both sides of your head and kissed you for a moment. 

“Love,” Dutch spoke softly, “You better don’t hold in those sounds, understand?”

You nodded, letting out a whimper as he began thrusting into you. Even though his movements were demanding, the sounds slipping out of you were sincere. You wrapped your legs around him, slowly unraveling underneath him. And Dutch’s eyes, they never left your face for a second, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips as he fastened his pace, the cot starting to creak underneath the force.

And with the increase of his thrusts, so did your breaths become uneven. You were sure that the gang members that had walked away in disgust could hear you on the other side of camp, including the person who was currently on night watch, even though you couldn’t remember if it was Javier or Charles, but it didn’t matter. What mattered is that you sang for Dutch, quivering under the weight of his body, inner walls clamping around him desperately.

Would he make you beg for your release? You murmured his name, letting it slip from your tongue like silk, only loud enough for him to hear. Something in his face changed, the possessiveness he had been mustering for minutes soon vanished like a thin layer of snow in the searing sunlight. He looked at you with complete adoration in that moment, before returning to his original, claiming self. 

“You’re mine, (Y/n)!” he grunted loudly, “Mine and mine alone!”  “Yes, Dutch!” “Say it! Tell me to whom you belong!” “I belong to you, Dutch! Forever! I love you! Only you!” 

And that was all he needed to hear to push you over the pleasurable edge of an orgasm. He was quick to follow soon, not even asking if he could spill himself in your depths. Your body arched into him and a whimper left your throat as he pulled himself out of you, seed dribbling down your thighs, and he allowed you to finish your orgasm with his index finger tightly pressed onto your clit. 

Dutch got up, passing you a clean piece of cloth that he had slightly dampened. He kissed your forehead swiftly before reaching for his boxers.  “Stay here, (Y/n).” he ordered, and of course you did as he said. Not that you could walk right now, anyway. 

He quickly threw it on before quickly slipping outside of the tent to see who truly was still watching. You heard his voice, muffled by the flaps of the tent yet audible enough to pierce through your bones like a knife through butter. 

“Is it now fucking clear to whom she belongs?!”  You could only imagine the flustered faces of the ones that were standing there. “If it isn’t, you should let me know. If anything is vague to your lot, just let me know. I don’t mind proving it to you again.”

[nadacwriter]

Natalie’s Curse/Dinogad’s Smock

When Natalie Gaine was born, they say she was cursed. As a hybrid of a human and a ghastly creature, she has some powers that may be out of her control. How will her family, specifically her Mother Marion, cope with these powers?

AN: A oneshot featuring a 6-year-old Natalie going through her first transformation. There’s a scene in this one where two characters speak Welsh to each other in the story, but I kept the written dialogue in english, I didn’t want you to have to translate for one of my silly little stories.

CW: Body Horror

Words: 2,335

The last name ‘Gaine’ carries respect with it in Delstran circles all over the world. Maybe you knew of the Gaine’s line, dating back generations; known for progressive politics, many saw them as activists and folk heroes, but others saw them as agitators and terrorists. It was hard to find a witch or wizard in their native Wales that didn’t have an opinion on the line.

Or, maybe you knew more about Marion Gaine, the world renowned duelist who married Krysta Gibson, one of the finest alchemists in the United States, bar none. If you lived in the town they called home, Edelmen, Iowa, you might have known their 8-year-old, Norah, born magically from Krysta. And their newest addition, Charice, a little infant, who had just had her blessing ceremony a month or so ago.

But if you know one thing about the Gaines, in Wales OR America, it’s this:

Natalie Gaine is cursed.

Natalie Gaine is the only child that Marion Gaine herself gave birth to, just two years after Norah was born. The story behind her conception is indeed gruesome, and you’d be hard pressed to find anyone willing to tell you the whole story. After all, hybridization with other species is often fine, but with a red wraith? A highly dangerous spirit that most people had never even SEEN before? That was something else.

It didn’t matter. Natalie didn’t look anything like her sisters. Her skin was fair, her hair was jet black, and her body was small, feeble. But that doesn’t constitute rumors of a curse. But nearly killing your mother at birth? Reddish-gray eyes, massive scars and markings all over your body, surprising magical skill, a nasty temper, an inability to sleep, and a morbid curiosity for the dark and macabre? Those were, to the locals, anyways, SURE signs that the child had been cursed. Not the Gaine family, not even necessarily Marion Gaine herself, the biological mother.

Just the child. And life was going to get much more difficult…

“MOM! MAM!” Norah called out, her eyes wide and her stance tense, “I NEED HELP!”

Krysta was busy with her child, but she could hear the concern in Norah’s voice. She took the infant Charice in her arms and walked with her, finding Norah at the top of the stairs to the third floor, “Norah? What’s the Matter?”

Marion, who had been working down on the first floor, trying to repair one of her capes, heard the call as well, and headed swiftly up the stairs, finding Krysta and putting a hand on her shoulder, looking up to Norah, “What’s all the fuss about, love?” Norah breathlessly explained, “N-Natalie! She got angry, because someone was throwing rocks at her window, and she got really mad and she started breaking and I don’t know what to do but I think she’s broken!”

Krysta handed Charice off to Marion, who took her and shushed the now antsy infant. Krysta made her way up to the top of the stairs and put her hands on Norah’s shoulders, moving her out of the way. Norah ran down to Marion, “I-Is Mom gonna be okay?” She asked, tugging on Marion’s dress.

Marion was about to tell Norah that yes, everything would be fine, she probably just cast a spell wrong and they’d need to fix it, it wouldn’t be a big deal...when all of the sudden, a scream. “MARION!”

A pause, then, “Hold her, Norah,” Marion let Norah hold Charice. She made sure Norah’s hands were firm on Charice before bolting up the stairs, nearly tripping on her dress as she made her way to Natalie’s bedroom, finding Krysta. Krysta wore a terror on her face that Marion hadn’t seen in a logn, long time.

“What’s gone wrong? What’s happened?” Marion asked, gripping Krystan’s arms and looking her in the eye, “do I need to call someone?”

“Look, look!” Krysta pointed into the room, and the pair looked upon what was inside. The room was messy, with unmade bed and books strewn about the floor, as well as a window with a small crack in it. But that wasn’t really the pair’s focal point.

Natalie had transformed. Again, when other hybrids did this, it was fine. A human looking more like a fae, or a dryad of some kind. But with a red wraith, it was different. Natalie must have gotten VERY angry to transform like this, and she was probably still angry and scared and confused. The mirror in the room was smashed to bits.

Natalie’s hair was long and greasy, hanging black at her sides. Her clothes were stretched over this new body, and her fingers had formed into long, gnarly claws, with sickly gray tips, serving as claws. Her eyes glowed a cutting scarlet, and shined in the light. But the scariest feature was the mouth. Sharp, long teeth, and there were dozens of them. And her mouth had split, as well, with deep, horrible jowls hanging down from her mouth to her chest, embedded with teeth. Her breathing was heavy and labored, and her head flitted and shook, like a bird expecting a fight.

“I-I don’t know, WHAT is going on,” Krysta began, fear apparent in her wavering voice, “but if that’s permanent, we need to call-”

Marion shook her head, “No. It isn’t permanent.” She let go of Krysta, “Hybrids do this. It’s scary, but, I know how to fix this.” Marion displayed a level of calm and collection that could make a nun look like a drill sergeant. “I’ll fix this,” she said, “I’ll be fine. Go see to Norah.”

Krsta nodded gently, and hurried off. She was an attentive and caring figure, but anyone confronted with their child being transformed into that would be caught off guard. As she went away from the room, Marion calmly entered, and shut the door.

Natalie hissed at her as the door shut, and scurried into a corner, grunting and hitting her head against the wall. Whether she was trying to escape or otherwise, it wasn’t working. As Marion went to put a hand onto Natalie’s shoulder, she recoiled into herself, and screamed out, before she began what sounded like crying. The low, rough noise choking out from her was painful for Marion to hear. But she endured it, to help her daughter.

Marion scoured the books on the floor. She was looking for one in particular, a little picture book she’d brought with her from Wales. She’d never known why she’d kept it until now. And when she found the book, she slowly went to Natalie, sitting behind her.

“It’s alright, pet...cry.” She said, “I know you’re in there, somewhere, Natalie.” Marion reached for Natalie’s shoulder again, and this time, Natalie let herself be touched. She was cold, wrinkled, and she shook. Marion then began to hum a song, as she opened the book.

Natalie responded well, as she turned to face her mam. She spotted the book as well, and hissed at it, looking at the pages intently. Marion, meanwhile, kept the humming going, before she began to sing.

“Pais Dinogat Vreith, Vreith…

O grwyn balaot ban wreith…

Chwit chwit chwidogeith,

Gochanwn gochenyn wythgeith…”

Marion would point at the pictures in the book. A rotund man, wearing a furry smock, and carrying a club, and a spear, and holding two dogs on a rope leash. Natalie was now leaning into Marion ow, calming down from her fear and rage. Her skin was growing warm, her hair short, and her eyes more human. Marion, meanwhile, continued,

“Pais Dinogat Vreith, Vreith…

O grwyn balaot ban wreith…

Chwit chwit chwidogeith,

Gochanwn gochenyn wythgeith…”

Natalie was looking more human, her hands retracting into fingers and palms, her legs doing the same, and even her teeth grew less sharp, her chin reforming. Marion turned the page, and pointed out pictures, containing different amounts of animals that Dinogad had hunted. Marion’s smile was gentle, as was her grip on Natalie.

“Un ,

dau,

tri,

pedwar,

pump,

chwech,

saith,

wyth…”

Natalie was back to normal. Her face was stained with tears, her voice was shaky, but she was finally calming herself down. It was Natalie who sang the next part in the book, her voice gentle and raspy.

“Pais Dinogat Vreith, Vreith…

O grwyn balaot ban wreith…

Chwit chwit chwidogeith,

Gochanwn gochenyn wythgeith…”

The pair went on, singing until the song was done and the book was closed. Marion stroked Natalie’s hair, kissing her forehead. She spoke with Natalie in Welsh, gently lifting her to the bed, and resting her own head on her own arms.

“Natalie,” She began, “Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asked, observing as her daughter turned away. She kept her eyes on her, just in case she ended up transforming again.

“Someone through a rock and my window and I got mad. Then Norah said my teeth looked funny, and I got scared. Then I heard a voice telling me to-” she paused, reluctant to go on, gripping the comforter of her bed.

“Natalie,” Marion got up and got the girl a set of less stretched clothes, “You transformed because you got too angry and too scared. Your brain didn’t want to hold back anymore.”

“But you told me I can’t control when I’m angry!” Natalie said, wrapping herself up in her blanket. She made it clear that she wasn’t budging, at least for a little while.

“Nat,” Marion sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her, “You can’t. But you can control how you deal with it.” Marion rubbed Nat’s back through the blanket, “Life will not be easy. Not for anyone. But your mother and I can help you take some of that weight. Okay?”

“…” Natalie reached out and hugged her mother tightly, squeezing her, “Thanks, Mam. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Nat. You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me, a little anger management isn’t gonna change that.”

///

Marion walked down the stairs calmly and quietly, and was greeted by Krysta, holding Charice, a worried expression on her face. “So...did you change her back?”

“Yes. Where’s Norah, is she alright?” Asked Marion, kissing Krysta gently on the cheek.

“She’s fine, I calmed her down,” she said, shaking her head and sitting in a nearby chair, “so, Natalie just transformed into a red wraith.”

“Yes.” Marion stated, matter-of-factly, as she sat next to Krysta, “It had to do with her anger. We’re gonna have to figure out a way to control it. I don’t know how.” Marion sighed, leaning forward.

Krysta bounced Charice up and down on her leg, “We’ll figure it out, Marion. I promise.” She put a hand onto of Marion’s, rubbing the back of her hand gently.

Marion smiled softly and nodded. “I know.” She said, leaning back into her chair. “Here,” She took Charice once more, rocking her gently, “I’ll keep her for now. You’ve been up a while. Rest.”

“You sure, dear? I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

“Ohh, I’m sure. She’s our baby, after all, should get to know her Mam.” Marion responded, nuzzling her nose into Charice’s, kissing her forehead, and letting her smile grow as Charice giggled in response.

Krysta rose from her seat and made her way down the stairs, letting Marion sit alone with Charice, and with her thoughts. Her smile faded into a frown, and her stare became vacant, as she let the little child sit in her arms, rocking back and forth in the chair. Thinking about Natalie, about how scared she looked when she’d turned, how terrified she must have felt when she turned. She thought for a while, until she heard the sound of little footsteps padding down the stairs.

Natalie was still wrapped up in her blanket, and looked to see Marion, walking over to her. “Can I sit, Mam?”

“’course, dear.” Marion replied, looking up and moving some pale hair out of her face.

Natalie sat in the chair next to Marion, and looked at Charice, wriggling a little and looking all around the room, her eyes taking in all the new sights. She kicked a little bit, and pointed at Natalie.

Natalie’s eyes widened, and she let a smile creep across her face, “can I hold her, Mam, pleeeease?”

marion looked over at the girl. Eyes red, hair black, scars and marks apparent. But her whole body was excited with the aspect of holding her little sister, of taking her into her arms. She just looked so ecstatic to hold her, and like she would die if she didn’t get to.

“Let me show you how,” Marion rose from her seat and walked over, teaching Natalie how to cradle Charice’s head in the crook of her elbow, how to support her body, instructing her to sit down when she held her. And then, she placed Charice into Natalie’s arms, and let go.

Charice kicked and wriggled, grunting and babbling, but she took well to the new person holding her. She sputtered and wriggled some more, all the while being looked at by Natalie, whose eyes were dead set on Charice the second she entered her arms.

“Mam,” She gasped, “She’s so tiny…”

“Gonna be as big as you some day, Nat, maybe even bigger!” Marion said. Marion watched as Natalie held Charice, careful with her, even while she was sitting down, and wrapped in a soft blanket. She was incredibly deliberate, as if every breath was calculated. All because she didn’t want to hurt her sister.

Marion stopped worrying about Natalie’s anger, at least, for now. She watched Natalie hold her little sister, with every ounce of care she could. And Marion knew, somewhere, that even IF Natalie was cursed, even if part of her wanted to kill those kids who were messing with her, there was a bigger part. A part that knew how important it was to be careful with a young child.

And Marion wouldn’t have it any other way.

[furtheradvofsanta]

Santa Claus Letter 2019

Every year for Christmas I write a story for my nephew in the form of a letter from Santa. I recognize this is after Christmas, but we’re exchanging presents late this year, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This time I was inspired by how much I hated The Nutcracker and the Four Realms. Enjoy!

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

Santa’s Workshop

Beyond the Riphean Mountains

Beyond the North Wind

True North Pole

December 20, 2019

My dearest [name],

I am sending you this letter on the occasion of your fifth Christmas, but I worry it may arrive to you late. You see, I’m not sending it from home, despite the return address I have attached at the top. I worry the mail here is not quite as efficient as it is at home, so this letter might arrive well after Christmas, for which I apologize. It’s something of a long story, which I think you will soon come to understand.

Anyway, you won’t believe the year we’ve had here at the workshop. You wouldn’t expect that after our troublesome visit from the gremlins last year that we would have another problem that threatened to keep Christmas from happening on time for a second year in a row, but sometimes things just happen that way. I hope we don’t make a habit of it. This time, at least, nothing surprised us at the workshop that almost blew us all up. Our home was safe this time, but we had to travel far away to make sure everyone else was safe, too.

I believe I told you last year that I take every chance that I can to visit my friend the Man in the Moon, but I don’t think I told you anything about him. I’m sure you’ve seen him; he’s just up there in the sky hanging out most of the time. But I’ll bet you didn’t know he has a name and a wife and a dog, and I’d guess you don’t know how he got up there in the first place. Well, I’ll tell you, and you won’t have to wonder anymore.

His name is Cain, a name that unfortunately bears a rather bad history, and this Cain was a bit of a troublemaker himself when he was still on Earth. Oh yes, he was once a regular Earth person, but that’s been many years ago now. One night--a Christmas Eve, in fact--Cain was out with his dog gathering sticks for the fire when he passed a neighbor’s garden that was full of cabbages. His head should have told him that stealing was wrong, but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his empty belly telling him that cabbage soup would make a fine Christmas dinner.

He shifted all the sticks he was gathering into a bundle on his back and began loading up his arms with stolen cabbages. He was so excited about having soup for dinner that he didn’t notice that a handsome man in a fine suit was now standing in the garden watching him.

“Would you rob me on Christmas?” the man asked Cain.

“Christmas on Earth or Monday in heaven makes no difference to a man in need of supper,” Cain replied.

The man thought about this for a moment and then asked Cain if he would rather burn in the sun or freeze on the moon. Cain laughed at this, because it seemed an impossible question, but he supposed he would rather freeze on the moon.

“Then may it ever be a Moon-day in heaven for you,” the man said, and he wished Cain to the moon, bundle of sticks and stolen cabbages and all. He’s been there ever since, because Death doesn’t know to look for him there. He’s not the first Man in the Moon--before him there was a man sent to the Moon by Moses as punishment for gathering sticks on the Sabbath, and then there was the shepherd Endymion who was beloved by the Moon--but he’s the only one now.

At least he’s not completely alone up there. He has his dog Phoebe to keep him company as he shines down on Earth and eats cabbages. There’s also a large rabbit constantly pounding rice into rice cakes, and a number of other strange things I notice every time I go to visit. They say the astronauts who have landed on the Moon have never seen these things, but explorers who have gone to the North Pole have never found my workshop either, so perhaps they just don’t know how to look properly.

You might be surprised to learn that the Man in the Moon is married. It’s true! He has a wife, but he only sees her once a year, at--you can probably guess--Christmas. The rest of the time she lives in a cave near the border of France and Germany, where she is greatly beloved and known affectionately by the people as Auntie Harry. Every Christmas, the great goose-footed fairy Auntie Harry leaves her cave and takes her donkey Marion to visit the good children of her region and leave them toys, candy, and treats (especially if they have left a snack of hay or turnips for Marion). When she has finished her task, she and Marion fly up to the Moon, where she and her husband Cain renew their wedding vows every year.

They say that if you know when to look, you can catch the Man in the Moon turning around once a year, on Christmas Eve, and that is true! He is turning around to see his wife, Auntie Harry, flying up to see him. He misses her so much during the year.

At any rate, it was Auntie Harry who tipped us off to all the trouble this year, and I am thankful for it! I don’t know what we would have done if she hadn’t been looking longingly up at the Moon from the mouth of her cave in France and noticed something was wrong. Something that looked like a long, bumpy, squirming tentacle, she said, appeared as if it was stretching its way up from the Earth to the Moon. We took a look with our most powerful telescopes and, sure enough, there was something like a tall, wiggling tower growing up out of what appeared to be eastern Germany.

I decided I needed to take a closer look, so I had Rupert, our farmhand, prepare the sleigh with my fastest reindeer so I could go see what this strange and alarming mass was. I knew, however, that I would have to be careful, as this part of Germany was under the protection of the small blonde angel whom they call the Christ Child (not to be confused with the actual baby Jesus). While the Christ Child is a loving gift-bringer and protector of children to much of Europe, she does not care for me very much, and she doesn’t appreciate it when she feels that I’m intruding on her territory, which she is very protective of. So I knew I would need to stay high in the sky to avoid being seen by her, lest she send against me her frightening companion, the walking scarecrow, Hans Trapp. Fortunately (in a way), the mysterious tower had grown far above the ground and up into the sky, so I didn’t have to get too close to the actual city.

You will never guess what I found, not if you had a million guesses. Was it a giant finger? No. Was it an enormous carrot, stretching out for the Moon Rabbit to nibble on? Oh, if only. Was it one billion marshmallows, hoping to escape into space? No. You will never guess. This miles-high tower that was now, I would have to guess, nearly halfway to the Moon was in fact a giant pile of squeaking, squirming, black-eyed, long-tailed little mice, all stacked on top of each other as if trying to turn themselves into a stairway to heaven.

What could be the cause of this? What could be the reason for it? I had no way of knowing, so I pulled the reins of the reindeer and told them to fly up so that perhaps I could see what was at the top. I have never seen so many mice in one place, and I could hardly guess where they had come from. If you have not seen any mice this year, it is probably because they left their home in [state] to join this tower of mice above Germany. How did they all get there? I can only imagine the number of mice sneaking across the ocean in boats and planes, following some irresistible order that only mice could hear. I shudder to think of it, frankly.

When I arrived at the top, I saw something that should not have surprised me. Which is a thing that should surprise you, because the thing I am about to describe is in fact quite surprising, so the fact that I shouldn’t have been surprised tells you the amount of surprising things I see on any given day.

What I saw was a mouse much larger than all the others, who stood on his hind legs and wore a long, purple military coat with a sabre strapped to his side, and a broad, fur-lined cloak over the top. At the top of his body rose seven heads, hissing and squeaking orders at the mice below him, and each gray head had a shining golden crown on top. This was, perhaps needless to say, the Mouse King.

You might have heard of the Mouse King, as his misdeeds are fairly well known, especially the uproar he caused at the Stahlbaum household so many years ago, but you may not know how such a scoundrel came to be. His mother was, of course, the Mouse Queen, and he inherited more than just the Kingdom of Mice from her. Her name was Madame Mouserinks, and in addition to being a queen, she was also a powerful sorceress, and a troublemaker of some renown, to boot.

You see, many years ago in a kingdom far away, a queen (a human queen) was making her husband the king’s favorite dinner of sausages, when Mouserinks tricked the queen into letting her eat all of the lard the queen needed to make the sausages. This made the sausages too dry, which made the king very angry, and so he swore revenge on the Mouse Queen. He summoned the court inventor, a rather ingenious clockmaker named Drosselmeier, to make the cleverest possible mouse traps to capture Mouserinks and her seven sons.

The traps managed to capture the seven Mouse Princes, but the Mouse Queen escaped unscathed, and she swore her own revenge against the king and queen for the loss of her sons. As it happens, the king and queen had just had a child of their own, a beautiful princess named Pirlipat. Knowing that Mouserinks would like come after her child due to the capture of her own, the queen assigned seven nurses to sit in Pirlipat’s room and hold seven cats--the famous tomcat Herr Schnurr, as he was known, and his family--in their laps, constantly petting them to make sure they were ever awake and alert to look out for Mouserinks and her sons.

But, as happens to people when given a boring job, or as happens to cats whenever they feel like, all seven nurses and all seven cats fell into a deep sleep. And so it was that they missed the moment that Madame Mouserinks used her magic to transform the beautiful princess into a very strange creature indeed. Where once Pirlipat had had the face of an angel, now she had a huge head attached to her tiny body, with large staring eyes, a large toothy grin, and a shock of white hair.

The king was outraged and set the task of curing his daughter on the poor court inventor, Drosselmeier, threatening to cut off his head if he could not solve this problem in a mere thirty days. Even a clever man like Drosselmeier was worried he wouldn’t be able to solve such a riddle in such a short time. And so he went to visit his friend the court astronomers to see if there was any help to be gained by observing the stars.

From this visit, Drosselmeier was able to determine that the princess could only be cured by eating the meat of the great nut Crackatook, the hardest, most delicious nut in the world. How would one go about cracking the hardest nut in the world, you might ask, and that would be a fine question. It turns out the only way was for a young man who had never yet shaved nor worn boots to crack open the shell with his teeth and hand the princess the nut with his eyes closed before taking seven steps backwards without stumbling.

This, as you might imagine, was a difficult mission even for Drosselmeier’s genius. Well, to make an already long story somewhat shorter, Drosselmeier traveled the four corners of the Earth--plus a previously undiscovered fifth corner that he called “zorth”--only to discover both the nut and the young man were to be found in his hometown of Nuremberg in Germany.

He found the great nut Crackatook in the shop of his brother Christoph, the greatest dollmaker in all of Nuremberg (which is no small feat, as Nuremberg has long been famous for its toymakers. Some are even almost as good as I am. I would say the Drosselmeier brothers are the closest anyone has ever come to the quality of my workshop, so I am glad they are my friends and not my rivals!). Also in that shop, he found his nephew, the seventeen-year-old Nathaniel Drosselmeier, who had never shaved and never worn boots. What’s more, the young Drosselmeier was so good at cracking nuts that the impressed young ladies of Nuremberg had taken to calling him Nathaniel Nussknacker, a name that means “nut-cracker.”

With quite a bit of to-do that we can skip over for now, Nathaniel Nussknacker was presented with the chance to crack the great nut Crackatook and rescue Princess Pirlipat and earn a great reward for his uncle and marriage of the princess for himself. He managed to crack the uncrackable nut in his teeth, handed the meat to the princess with his eyes closed, and began his seven steps backwards. As he did so, the princess ate the nut and was returned to her normal, beautiful self: lily white skin, eyes of azure blue, and golden curls in her hair! The king rejoiced, trumpets blared, drums rang ou! But at his seventh step, young Nathaniel Nussknacker stepped on and crushed Madame Mouserinks, who had just come crawling out of a hole in the floor! The boy stumbled, and in an instant, he had transformed just as the princess had: a huge ugly head with great white teeth, huge round eyes, and hair and beard of cottony white. If you have ever seen a nutcracker, you can picture how the young Nussknacker was changed.

No need to worry, though, as young Nathaniel did eventually find the true love that returned him to normal through defeating Madame Mouserinks’s seven sons who had been reborn as the seven-headed Mouse King and saving the Stahlbaum household. When young Marie Stahlbaum promised to love him despite his looks, she broke the curse on him, and the two traveled together to the Kingdom of the Dolls, where they were married and live as king and queen to this day.

And so you can see why I was so concerned to see that the Mouse King had returned and was planning to make trouble for the Man in the Moon. I suspected that the Mouse King had heard that the moon was made of green cheese (perhaps you have heard this, too) and thought that he and all the mice on Earth could climb to the moon and eat cheese to their hearts’ content without worry of cats or mousetraps or shrieking people swatting them with brooms.

I was also concerned because the presence of the Mouse King meant that the base of this column of mice was certainly in Nuremberg. Nuremberg is perhaps the city where the Christ Child is best known and at her greatest strength. There was no way I could go there, either to inspect the base of the mice column or--more importantly--to go talk to my friend Drosselmeier and his nephew Nathaniel Nussknacker to see if they could help me defeat the Mouse King, as they had done before.

Likewise, most of my toughest companions would likewise be recognized and unwelcome in Nuremberg: the Krampus, Belsnickel, and the Klaubauf would all be detected immediately. Rupert and Father Whipper would likely be more welcome, as the two of them sometimes help the Christ Child, but both worried about possibly coming into conflict with the terrifying Hans Trapp: Rupert is too kind-hearted to fight, and Father Whipper is too cowardly. And while Pete is my most trusted apprentice, this job was too dangerous for him and his brothers, no matter how much they might beg me to go to the moon.

As there was no way I could go on my own--in any of my many disguises--there was only one choice left: my wife, Mrs. Claus, a fearless woman who is definitely sturdy enough to handle the cold of the moon. The only question was how she would get there. My reindeer, horses, and donkeys were just as likely to be recognized as I was, and she needed something that could fly her to the moon, and fast. There was only one real choice: our fierce and loyal ally, Lunicursor, king of the griffins of the Riphean Mountains.

Once he had agreed to help us, Mrs. Claus and the griffin king headed out for Nuremberg. I myself had a number of quick stops to make myself before I could head to the moon. First, I wanted to make sure that Christmas would be taken care of if I somehow found myself trapped on the moon. Stranger things had happened before, and I have found myself captured by less powerful foes than the Mouse King, and time was running short before the big night.

As such, I made the quick trip from the North Pole down to the small nation of Iceland and out to the vast lava fields were Iceland’s many trolls live. There I found the thirteen troll brothers who love to make trouble for the children of Iceland at Christmas time by gobbling up their Christmas treats or slamming doors when they try to sleep, but they also delight the children by filling up their shoes with toys and candy, not just one night, but thirteen nights, one for each brother. They are called the Yule Lads, and they live in the lava fields of Iceland with their mother, a hideous ogress who likes to gobble up naughty children, and her cat, an enormous beast who looks for kids who did not receive new clothes for Christmas. (Next time you get socks for Christmas instead of a toy, be grateful, not sad! It’s better not to have the Yule Cat after you, I promise!)

By the time I got to the lava fields, the first few brothers had already set out for town, where they would bother families by drinking all their milk and scraping all the good leftover bits out of the pan with stubby little fingers. Luckily, the fourth brother--who is known as Spoon Licker because of his tendency to lick all the spoons in a house, hoping that there’s delicious sauce or cake batter left on there--was still to be found. I was able to get him to stop licking a spoon long enough to promise that he and his brothers would make sure presents got delivered to all the children of the world if I didn’t make it back in time. The Yule Lads could be hard to predict, but they weren’t nearly as naughty as they used to be before I taught them that helping children was more fulfilling than teasing them, and with thirteen of them plus help from Pete and Rupert and the elves, I thought surely they could manage to do the job I normally do in one night by myself.

I also had one other favor to ask them that I will tell you about momentarily.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Claus and Lunicursor had made their way as quick as lightning to Nuremberg, where they managed to slip unnoticed to the home of the clockmaker Drosselmeier. They immediately recognized him by his eyepatch, his shabby frock coat, and his shocking wig made of spun glass. He welcomed them warmly and promised to help as much as he could, as he was shocked and concerned to learn about the Mouse King’s return.

Soon Drosselmeier led Mrs. Claus and Lunicursor to a wardrobe with folding doors that was full of traveling cloaks lined with fox fur. Hiding above a large cape fastened to the ceiling of the wardrobe by a piece of lace was a ladder made of cedar wood. Climbing this ladder was the secret entrance to the Kingdom of the Dolls. You may have heard of similar secret doors in other wardrobes; some wardrobes are just that way.

Mrs. Claus and Lunicursor emerged with Drosselmeier in the Field of Sugarcandy, where everything was made of candied orange peel, burnt almonds, and sugared raisins. Soon they passed through the Forest of Christmas and over the River of Orange Juice, past the Village of Sweet Cake, along the River of Rose Essence full of golden dolphins, through the Wood of Preserved Fruits, and finally, to the capital, the City of Candied Fruits.

The capital always carries the scent of roses and has a slight pink glow to it, which comes from a lake filled with silvery pink waves on which swim silver swans with golden collars and jumping fish that shimmer like diamonds. It was on the other side of Rose Lake, past the noisy and bustling capital city, that the three came at last to Marzipan Castle. They found the king and queen--Nathaniel Nussknacker and his wife Marie--inside waiting for them.

Mrs. Claus quickly informed the young king--handsome in his coat marked with a giant golden spider, a sign of his membership in the knightly Order of the Golden Spider, which he had been awarded for saving Princess Pirlipat--that the trouble-making Mouse King had returned and that we at the North Pole required the help of the only man who had defeated him before.

Unfortunately, Nathaniel Nussknacker told Mrs. Claus that he would not be able to help us this time, as he had received word that the infamous giant Sweettooth had awakened and was returning to the capital with the goal of eating up Marzipan Castle. In the past, he had done great damage to the castle, eating the top of one tower and beginning toward the castle’s great dome before the people of the capital promised him the city’s Almond and Honey District in exchange for leaving the castle alone.

Likewise, when Mrs. Claus asked if the king had any word on the whereabouts of the descendants of the cat Herr Schnurr, who had frightened Madame Mouserinks in the past, he told her that he had unfortunately lost touch with that famed cat since taking up the throne in the doll kingdom.

Mrs. Claus was disappointed that King Nathaniel would not be able to join her in battle against the Mouse King, but she understood that he needed to protect his home against the giant. As she was preparing to get on Lunicursor’s back and fly back out of the Kingdom of the Dolls, however, Nathaniel Nussknacker stopped her and offered her the one bit of help he could: the use of the great sword Crackatook, which he carried strapped to his side at all times. The sword was named after the hard nut, as the shell of that great nut had been coated in gold and placed at the sabre’s pommel, where the name Crackatook could be seen carved into the shell in Chinese characters. The magic of the nut passed on to the sword, ensuring that its blade would never break or grow dull. It was also the only sword that had ever defeated the Mouse King before, as it was the same cavalry sabre that had previously belonged to Queen Marie’s brother, Fritz, who had lent it to the Nutcracker for his finally duel against the Mouse King.

Mrs. Claus thanked the king and his uncle for their great help and promised to return the sword in good condition (which is always important when someone lends you something that has great meaning to them). She strapped the sword Crackatook to her side, and she and King Lunicursor sped over Rose Lake, out of the Kingdom of the Dolls, out of the wardrobe, out of Nuremberg, and up to the moon!

All of this was accomplished while I myself was still meeting with Spoon-Licker in the lava fields, so it was of some importance that I make my way to the moon as quickly as possible so that I could aid Mrs. Claus and help protect the Man in the Moon from the Mouse King’s ravenous armies of mice. However, even my fastest reindeer--more rapid than eagles though they may be--are not as fast as King Lunicursor when he races to the moon, and so I knew I would need to take a shortcut. And so I planned to make my way to the moon by way of the stars.

I flew my sleigh at all speeds back up to the North Pole, where I called out to my dear friend, Callisto, the North Polar Bear. She lives most of her life among the stars above the North Pole, where she and her son Arcas help remind people which way is north. After I called out her name, she and her cub--both bigger than houses--lumbered down from their place in the sky. I explained the situation to her, which was not a surprise to her, as she had seen the pile of mice reaching up into the sky herself. She understood the urgency of our situation immediately, and of course offered to carry me and my sleigh up into the Star Land, especially once I promised to reward her and Arcas with large vats of their favorite soda once I had returned.

The Star Land is the home of the Star Man, who is the Christmas gift-bringer in western parts of Poland. He lives up in the mystical Star Land together with the Little Star, who is the star that the Three Kings saw at the first Christmas, and who brings gifts herself to children in southern Poland. Together with them are large numbers of Star Boys, who spend the Twelve Days of Christmas wandering around singing carols and welcoming the Three Kings, and a host of small angels, who also help deliver gifts. Normally, the gate between the Star Land and the Earth only opens on Christmas Eve after a child has seen the first star in the sky, but access between the worlds is easy when you live among the stars like Callisto and Arcas.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to speak with my friend the Star Man, but I spoke with him enough to explain why I was passing through his land so that I wouldn’t appear rude. I promised him I would return soon for a longer visit, during which I would bring some pierogi, herring, and poppy seed noodles for us to share.

With that settled, I quickly re-entered my sleigh and set off for the moon. You might know that there are no stars between the Earth and the Moon, and that is true, but the Star Land is a magical kind of in-between place that people with calculators and telescopes mostly don’t have the ability to see anymore. Fortunately, if you do know the way, the trip from the Star Land to the Moon is quite quick.

When I arrived at the Moon’s surface, the scene was quite a mess! The moon was simply covered with mice, so that it looked like it had a wiggly brown carpet on it. There were some empty patches, however, that were not covered in vermin, and it was in those patches that I could see my friends: the Man in the Moon, Cain, fighting off mice with the thorn branches he usually carries on his back, and his little dog Phoebe barking and snapping at them; the moon rabbits abandoning their rice cakes to smash at mice with their hammers; and of course, Mrs. Claus and Lunicursor fighting valiantly against the mouse hordes with beak, claw, and the unbreakable sword Crackatook!

Though they were doing their best, they were greatly outnumbered, so I knew something needed to be done soon. And so I called out “On, Dasher! On, Dancer!” and, well, you know the rest. And at top speed I circled around the Moon, light side and dark side, until I finally spied the hideous, seven-headed, seven-crowned Mouse King, spurring on his army to swarm the Moon.

I lowered the sleigh to hover near to him and called out to catch his attention.

“Mouse King!” I shouted. “Call off your armies! You can’t eat the Moon, we need it! It doesn’t belong to you, it belongs to everyone! Besides, the Moon hasn’t been made of cheese for hundreds of years!”

“Bah!” called the Mouse King with seven voices at once. “The Moon is mine by right of conquest! If you want it, you should fight harder for it! I know you’re hiding the cheese somewhere!”

I hadn’t really expected that reasoning would work with him, so I knew I would have to use my backup plan.

“Mouse King!” I shouted again. “Nice purple cloak! Is that new?”

I could tell now that the Mouse King was annoyed with me. “No, you fool! This cloak has been in the royal family of the Mouse Kingdom for generations! New clothes are for peasants!”

“That’s what I thought you might say,” I replied, reaching back to open my magic sack. “I have someone who might want to meet you, then.”

Remember I told you I asked Spoon-Licker for one more favor? Besides asking them to cover for me in case I didn’t make it back for Christmas, I also asked if I could borrow their cat. You know, the enormous, shaggy cat that hunts down those who didn’t get new clothes for Christmas?

Well, once I opened the mouth of my sack, the Yule Cat, who had not particularly cared for being cooped up in a magical bag, leaped out as if he had been in a bathtub where the water was too hot. He made straight for the King of the Mice, and the King’s once fearless army soon found themselves scattering like their feet were on fire. The mice scrambled in hordes and jumped back to the Earth, many splashing in the ocean, some crashing onto the land, some going who knows where. It may be generations before all the mice find their way back home.

I’m not sure what happened to the Mouse King in all the chaos. All I could find was a pile of seven crowns and a tattered purple cloak. The Yule Cat can’t speak, but I’m not even sure he would tell. All I know is that he seemed much more contented when he went back into the bag.

Anyway, the Moon is safe again, for now. I will need to return the Yule Cat to Iceland, and Mrs. Claus will need to return the sword Crackatook to the Kingdom of the Dolls, but even with all that, I hope to still have Christmas ready in time and without many mistakes.

I hope this letter finds you well, even if not on time. I hope you have or will have had a merry Christmas! Maybe a happy New Year as well! Hopefully we both have an easy time of it in the coming year. Until then, I remain:

Your friend,

Santa Claus

P.S. I am sending along to you a book with more of the story of Marie and the Nutcracker so you can learn more about how the two of them met. It’s somewhat different from what I told you in this letter—which is not surprising, as there are many different versions of this famous story; sometimes they even call Marie Clara instead, or leave out the story of the hard nut Crackatook altogether—but I promise I told the story to you just as it was told to me by Godfather Drosselmeier. I also sent along small toys of myself and the Christ Child that I hope you will like.

P.P.S. If you have the book The Alphabet of Christmas, you can see pictures of some of the different people from this letter, like the Christ Child (under C), Father Whipper (F), Star Man (G), Krampus (K), Rupert (R), Auntie Harry (T), the Yule Lads (Y), and Pete (Z).

[multishipperlove]

cliche prompt list "would you run away with me" mollymauk and yasha platonic or Jester and Traveller platonic/romantic (feel free to choose and get weird)

(I chose Jester&Traveler platonic, because Jester as a kid is adorable and also, can you imagine the terror Artagan would feel when a five year old asks him to run away with her? Hilarious. Jester is probably a bit articulate for a five year old here, I honestly don’t know, but let’s just ignore that... Hope you like it!)

*

If there was one thing Jester never had to doubt in her life, it was the fact that she was loved. After all, in her five year old mind, the world consisted of nothing but one beautiful, hardwood decked hallway in the Lavish Chateau, and every person she met there loved her without the shadow of a doubt. Her Mama, the Traveler, and even the few servants that were allowed up there, no one had ever so much as raised their voice at her.

But even a child realises at some point that there is more to the world than they know. Jester could see the people passing the street outside her window, even though she had to stack five books on top of the little bathroom footstool to reach the window sill. When Nadine lead her past the stairs to get ready for bed, she could hear voices sometimes, and her Mama's beautiful voice singing for someone else, singing songs that sounded so different from the lullabies she usually sung for Jester.

And Jester loved her Mama, so much, she loved Nadine, but... what about all these other people? What would she find if she walked down the stairs, all by herself, without Nadine of Mama holding onto her hand or telling her to come back? She had so many questions, and none of them could be answered by being nice and staying in her room all the time.

She knew who she could ask though.

She was sitting in her room again one day, colourful hand prints all over the floor and the canvas she'd been supposed to paint still empty, when she heard him arrive. Her door didn't creak, there was no telltale sound of footsteps, but she heard his laughter. Clear as bells, chiming through the hallway before he materialised in front of her, seemingly out of thin air.

“Traveler!” She let out an excited shriek, before he could press a finger to his hooded face to signal her to be quiet.

But she knew he was smiling as well, could all but hear it in his voice when she spoke up to greet her. “Jester! It's so good to see you again. I have so many plans for today!”

“Me too,” she whispered back, wiping her hands on her dress before reaching for his hand and dragging him over to her bed. The Traveler wasn't always with her, at least not always with his body and stuff. Jester was sure he was always with her in another sense though, like when her Mama apologised for not being able to be there but she tapped the little spot where her heart was, and promised that she was always with her anyway. Maybe it was like that. Anyway, when the Traveler wasn't in her room, he had to be somewhere else. And 'somewhere else' was exactly the space she had so many questions about.

“Okay okay, what do you want to do?” the little green cloak asked, scrambling up on the bed with her. As they got comfortable, his fingers ran over the little symbolic doorway Jester had carved into one of her bedposts, and she was sure he was smiling at it.

But again, there were more important things than asking him if he liked the carvings and paintings on her bed, even though she really wanted to ask that right now. She held back though, instead getting his attention by giving the cloak a gentle tug. “I want you to tell me about outside,” she told him, resting her face in her hands as she gave him an expectant look.

“Outside?” he asked back, almost sounding confused. “Everyone knows about outside. The sky's blue, grass is green, blah blah blah..”

“No!” she interrupted him, something close to indignation in her voice. “I don't know about the outside, and you can't make fun of me for that. I mean, I know pictures and stuff, but that's not like the real thing. I wanna know about the real thing.”

The figure in front of her stilled for a moment, before she heard a quiet sigh. “The real outside, huh? Well, okay... I'm not from around here, but I'll tell you what I know.”

Jester settled in, lying on her tummy now and feet kicking in the air as she listened to him talk. The Traveler had always been great at telling stories, and he didn't disappoint this time. He told her about the beach, a seemingly endless mass of water stretching out until it reached the horizon, soft sand to bury your feet in, and the sky turning beautiful colours when the sun went up and came back down again. A hundred different shades of red, orange and yellow, more even than she had in her colour palette.

He told her about the market in town, with countless rows of booths and stalls all jammed together. One big place packed so full that it seemed small again, filled with all kinds of smells and weird sensations. More food, toys, and candy than anyone could ever dream of.

He told her about people, bustling on the streets. Adults pretending to be important and children knowing they didn't have to yet. Running, mingling, sticking their nose into things that were none of their business.

Jester loved every second of it. With every story, she discovered a new place she wanted to explore, another person she would have liked to meet one day. With each story, her own little world seemed to become a little bit more gray and boring.

An idea started to form, one of those that came with the slight thrill of doing something forbidden and just a little bit dangerous. “Hey,” she interrupted him, just as he was telling her about a big tree, a relic from the Gods somewhere far off in a country she had never heard of. “Hey, Traveler?”

He stopped, finally giving her his full attention. “Yeah?”

“Would you run away with me?”

There it was again, that- weird pause. Where he seemed to freeze for a moment, not moving, not even breathing. Jester stilled as well, her smile slowly slipping as she wondered if she'd said something wrong.

“Why would you want to run away?” he finally asked, the hood of the cloak tilting in her direction.

Jester shrugged slightly. “All the things you told me, they sound so wonderful. And none of them are in here, I want to see them.”

“Oh, but you would get bored so quickly,” he replied, and Jester couldn't help but feel like he was writing her off a bit. It hurt, it wasn't something she was used to. The Traveler almost never disagreed with her plans, usually he just found a way to make them better. “And look,” he continued, before she could voice any of that. “Wouldn't you miss your Mama? And even, what's her name, Nina?”

“Nadine,” Jester corrected him quietly, still feeling a bit pouty.

“Right, Nadine. You would miss them terribly. Some of the things I told you about are so far away, Jester.”

“Not the beach though,” she insisted. “You said the beach is right here in the city, we could totally go there!”

The hood started to shake from side to side, and she heard another huff from her friend. “I suppose... but the beach is still terribly far for someone as little as you.”

Jester wanted to argue that he was just as little as she was, but then again, he could do all kinds of fantastical things she couldn't do. Maybe size didn't matter as much when you could do so many magic tricks. “So you're not running away with me?” she asked, the disappointment still obvious in her voice though.

“Well, not to the beach at least,” he told her. “How about... we start a little bit smaller? Build you up for the big thing?”

She raised her eyebrows at that, definitely intrigued again. “Smaller like where?”

“Like down the stairs,” he whispered, his tone taking on a conspiratorial nature. “Don't you want to see what's down there? Or hell, even just in some of the other rooms up here! Or upstairs, for that matter.”

“You think that would be interesting?” she asked with a smile, feet kicking again as she started to think about all the possibilities just beyond her little hallway.

“Of course!” He sounded excited again now, like when he'd first come in. He liked it when Jester agreed to his plans, and so far they had never disappointed her either. “You know what Jester, first thing tomorrow, I'll make sure to show you around the house a bit. It's going to be so much fun.”

She nodded eagerly, but had to ask. “Why tomorrow? We could start right now.”

“Actually,” came the hushed reply, as he lifted a finger to his hood again, “We can't. I'll see you tomorrow, Jester.”

The last part was nothing but a whisper as he disappeared again, as suddenly as his entrance had been. A second later she understood why though, hearing her Mama's footsteps coming closer. With a bright smile she jumped out of bed, falling around the Ruby's legs as soon as she opened the door. “Mama Mama, guess what happened today!”

Marion chuckled softly and leaned down to pick her up, cradling the child close to her heart. “If you're that excited about it, little Sapphire, I'm sure it must have been something wonderful. Why don't you tell me all about it during dinner?”

“Okay.” Jester snuggled in, wrapping her little arms around her Mama's neck and enjoying the warmth that radiated off of her skin. It seemed like the Traveler had been right, actually. She would miss her Mama, terribly.