#also just awful trolls all around
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zivazivc · 9 months ago
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For those of you wondering about Les's mysterious younger sibling. It's Hed, he's the little brother.
They share a mom who was a rock troll. Les's dad is funk, and Hed's dad is rock, but he lived in Vibe City since very young so he's also basically mixed genre like his bro.
In the second pic he's singing/rapping Tastes Just Like Chicken by Scatterbrain. I feel like this is the kind of music he would make when younger.
and bonus: meet the nominees for the worst parents award
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itspileofgoodthings · 6 months ago
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tags continued from prev post.
#and all of this is true while it is ALSO true that her songs age incredibly well#even debut or random soundtrack songs or endgame#whatever song people try to put on the worst Taylor songs list NEVER QUITE BELONGS#it doesn’t feel right. and to some extent occasionally in mercurial flashes I feel the same about her BEST songwriting list#I can never rank anything of hers ever because she can write better than she has written#if anything finds her own songwriting dead it’s what her future self will be able to achieve#and I think sometimes even the public can SENSE this about her and it’s part of why people are sooooo hard on her in a brutal way#and in a way they never are with other artists. who have reached the limits of their potential#Taylor has not reached the limits —that’s the simple way of saying it#in some way she is still figuring out the artist she is going to be#and I really do think that it is going to be absolutely astonishing#because in some ways (this is going to sound crazy) she is still distracted by her success and her tour#she’s NOT but I mean. the canon hasn’t been fully set free#there are still somehow things holding her back#and we’ve watched her outstrip so much of those early confines that fame and the business of the music industry strapped around her#we’ve seen her say ‘that doesn’t apply to me’#but actually she’s going to and she needs to and I believe she WILL continue to move into rarefied air#my mom helped me give me the final piece of this feeling (and it’s just a deep gut intuition/brain chemical thing for me)#when she said one day almost in mild exasperation: maybe one day Taylor will grow into a Dolly Parton#and something CLICKED#in my brain. and I don’t agree with my mom in terms of her non-interest in Taylor (as much as it has pained me to do so)#I think she’s worth loving and paying attention to now#but that gap that exists between people who love her and people who don’t (full time haters internet trolls do not interact)#I think it’s going to close with time as her work stretches out and out and grows and changes#like I think by the end of her career we are going to have something so astonishing#and to loop it back for a second to a previous thought. I think that’s why sometimes a taylor song can sound disjointed to me. because it#will hit the Depths of the Depth for a second. it will transcend and then it will go back to merely being an excellent pop song#those flashes are everywhere in her work but I think she is going to work and hone them into being conductors of light in a more steady way#the older she gets. does this sound INSANE. idk sometimes I think it does and then sometimes I think it DOESNt. so who knows. but yeah#it’s hard to say because I know it will read as more critical of Taylor than I mean it to be. when really I mean it with so much awe
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triptychgardener · 8 months ago
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What does becoming a furry in Homestuck mean? (In reference to your recent Nepeta post)
Okay so the thing is the way that Homestuck treats furries is honestly kind of equivalent to how it treats queerness. As in, Homestuck initially treats it like a joke or a thing to mostly sneer at. Homestuck was very much part of the wave of disaffected ironic assholes of the Newgrounds and Something Awful type, especially to start with, and that sort of relied on shitting on demographics that were seen as weird and permissible to find cringe and make fun of.
Jade comes onto the scene, and a lot of people sort of groan at her whole furry shtick. Jade is largely, however, just a pretty sincere character, and even though she feels some embarassment over the idea of BEING a furry (i.e. her distaste for the idea of actually wearing a fursuit) she nonetheless begins the admirable refrain of combining the finest qualities of humanity with the elegance and nobility of the animal kingdom.
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Her earnest affection for all things anthropomorphic sets up more than just her excellent taste. And as much as she is a bit of a pattern-breaker, one pattern she doesn't break is that of having a Signature Animal.
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The four beta kids have a bunch of different things associated with them: the four elements, four items, four musical instruments. But the animals are practically integral to who they are as people and characters.
John's attachment to the bunny is obvious, and helps to spur on one of the most emotional scenes in the comic. (For him. Him specifically.)
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It's also something deeply precious to him, as it's a gift from every single one of his friends in a very roundabout fashion!
For Rose, Jaspers is half the reason she decided to play the game in the first place. She missed her dead cat so dearly she was willing to play a game that might end the world for it.
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(Pictured above, Rose lying about her feelings, water is wet.)
Dave seems to at least feel some affection for crows, or at least shame when he kills them.
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And his fusing to become Davesprite is what allows him to survive as a "copy" of the original Dave. Once again, Dave's disaffected irony giving way to the necessity of becoming a furry to save the world.
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And for Jade, of course, Bec.
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And it's notable that, by the end of the comic, at least THREE of our main beta kids have merged with their animals, and, in a way, become the best versions of themselves.
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Jade obviously gets to achieve her dream of becoming a furry, and in doing so gaining power and agency that she was always denied due to her position in the story.
Davepeta, as I stated in a previous post, is the true Final Form of Dave, the pawn that made it to the end of the board, the only surviving character from Homestuck's "original" timeline, and is truly happy with themselves.
And Jasprose appears to have fully hurled herself through the walls Rose put up around herself to protect her image, and thus absolutely mortifies Rose. She just seems to be having a great time.
Homestuck evolved from a story that was deeply cynical and mean-spirited about furrydom, to a story where three of our four starting protagonists, in their truest most powerful forms, combine the qualities of man and beast to achieve self-actualization. And to bring this back around to queerness, these three characters also happen to be canonically queer. So there's that.
This isn't even to get into how this might relate to Troll Lusii and the concept of "growing up" to be more like one's parent on a planet raised by animals, but that's for another day.
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commandershepardvasfuckit · 2 months ago
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An Arranged Marriage, part 6
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
M!troll x f!reader
1.6k words
As you get more comfortable with Zen'jan he once more invites you to visit the shrines of his gods with him. While it's quite different than anything for the Light in your kingdom it's still quite an interesting window into his life.
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Every morning began the same. You would wake up and like always Zen’jan was already making breakfast, you would sit next to him and lean against him if he still had much cooking to do or you would sit in front of him and lean back against him if he was done. He would happily nuzzle against you during most of breakfast, scratching whatever sort of itch his rut caused until he was content and could go about his day.
He also took the time to teach you how to light the hearth and a bit of how to cook breakfast, neither of which you were very good at but he gently encouraged you to keep trying anyway. The first night he came home to a lit hearth you could see how proud of you he looked.
It was an easy routine with him, cuddled up every morning then again when he got home to the point where the first morning where he did not automatically nuzzle into you felt weird. You sat next to him and leaned against him like you had for the past week or so, though instead he sort of just leaned over and tapped his cheek against the top of your head in acknowledgment. Once he was done cooking you waited for him to scoot back from the hearth and reposition himself so you could sit between his legs, but he never did.
“You do not have to do that, I am alright” he said gently as you leaned into him more.
It made your heart sink and you were not even sure why. During the last week he always waited for you to initiate anything, waited for you to lean into him or touch him first, then he would happily hold and nuzzle you until he was content. It was still one sided with him doing all the cuddling, but you had enjoyed it.
“Oh, ok” was all you could manage.
“And thank you. I know it was uncomfortable for you, I really appreciate you indulging me though”.
It stung a bit that he did not seem interested in you now that his rut was over. You still were not sure how you felt about him. It had been several weeks living together and he had proven to be nothing less than a gentleman at all times. You could not say that there was any love there, but there was definitely an appreciation for how much he did for you, and maybe in an arranged marriage that was all you could hope for. It was not like you expected love when you still lived in your kingdom and thought you would marry some navy officer anyways.
“Will you come with me to the shrines today?” he asked, jolting you out of your thoughts.
“What?” you asked after only partially catching what he said.
“Will you come with me to the shrines today?” he repeated, “I’m going to go mediate and leave offerings, and I’d really like it if you came too”.
“Yeah, sure”.
Once more he leaned over to tap his head against yours in acknowledgment.
After breakfast you watched as he packed a bag with a few trinkets, some fruit, coins, and his dagger.
As the two of you walked across the city he kept his usual, respectful distance once more, no longer walking so close to you that his arm brushed against yours. You had not wanted him to touch you, but now that you were used to it, it felt awful thinking that maybe he had not wanted to be that close either, it was just his rut that made him want to be so close.
The shrines were carved into the very rock face of the ravine. A spacious room was hollowed out with two massive statues on pedestals, trolls gathered around and left small offering at the statues’ feet, lit incense, or bowed their heads in meditation or prayer.
People watched you with curiosity as they passed by. Everyone knew Zen’jan and everyone knew he was married to a human, but it did not mean that they were used to it or not going to stare.
“Hey, Zen’jan” you began, “Is it ok that I’m here?”
“Of course it is ok, all are welcome here. And you know you can just call me Zen”.
Zen. The only person you had heard call him Zen was Ba’tual. You had assumed it was a nickname since they had been friends since childhood, though not even Bira called him Zen.
“Is that a nickname?” you asked.
“No, it is my name”.
“So is Zen’jan your full name then? Like first and family name?”
“Trolls do not have family names. Zen’jan is a formal name, Zen is the name my parents gave me”.
“So why is Ba’tual the only person who calls you Zen?”
“Because I have known him since I was little, when I was still only Zen, just I have known him since he was only Ba”.
“But Bira doesn’t call you that, and she’s your cousin”.
“Using someone’s first given name shows a certain closeness, I do no know if there is a human equivalent. It can be between very close friends, or siblings, used by parents, or lovers” he trailed off. “Forget I brought it up actually” he quickly added.
Lovers. You mulled the word over. It definitely was not what you would call the two of you, but you wondered if that was how he saw you.
You followed him to one of the statues, one of a troll woman with outstretched arms and plants winding up her legs.
“This is for Owa” he knelt before the statue and rummaged through his bag. He placed a few pieces of fruit and a small wooden token carved with leaves on the offering tray at the statue’s feet. From the bundle of incense by the tray he picked up a stick and lit it off a candle on the pedestal the statue and tucked it into the holder amongst burning sticks left by other. It had a pleasant smell, though not quite the incense he always smelled like.
He remained kneeling, his eyes closed, for several long moments before speaking again.
“You have her blessing, you know that?” he asked.
“Why would I have her blessing?” you asked back.
“When we were married, during the ceremony her blessing was written on your skin in my blood, as were Oja’s and Reli’s blessings, as I told you before”.
You shifted uncomfortably at this, he had told you this before and it bothered you then too.
He repeated the process at Oja’s shrine, leaving a few offerings, lighting a stick of incense, and spending a few moments in prayer or meditation.
“They both have tails” you blurted out once his eyes were open again, still staring at the statues.
“Yes, so did early trolls” he answered.
Something about the thought of Zen’jan possibly having a tail struck you as funny, he was already cat-like enough as was.
“Are there any trolls that still have tails?” you asked.
“I am not sure. Maybe? There are some pretty remote tribes that have not migrated or mingled with others much” he shrugged.
You followed as he made his way farther back in the shrine and through a large doorway and into a room that housed another large statue.
“For Reli” he informed you and you watched as for the third time he made his offerings, light the incense, and prayed. This incense smelled different, but still not the one he smelled like.
“One more” he told you and again you followed him back father, through one of the numerous doors that lead off of Reli’s room.
The corridor leading back got dark surprisingly fast as you walked, even the torches lining the walkway only barely seemed to hold it back. A weird chill hung in the air, making your hair stand on end, the same weird chill you often got around Ba’tual.
The shadows cast by the torches jumped around more than you felt they should, casting odd shapes. Out of the corner of your eye you swore you saw something much larger moving in the shadows.
You moved closer to Zen’jan, pressing your side to him for a sense of security.
“Hey, it is alright, just Tsov’ka’s shrine. He does not like the light, but you are safe here, you have his blessing too” he reassured you.
The corridor finally opened into a dimly lit room, you were sure the hallway there was not actually very long, but the atmosphere of it made it time longest walk of your life.
Zen’jan knelt at the shrine, though there was no statue here, just a raised pedestal with an offering tray and incense. As with the last three he lit a stick of incense off a small candle burning on the pedestal, though it did not actually seem to shed any light. This was definitely the incense he always smelled like though.
Shadows leapt on the walls despite there not being enough light to actually cast shadows and now you were certain a large form moved among them.
You watched Zen’jan closely, this time he removed the dagger from his bag and pricked his finger to spill a few drops of his blood on the offering tray.
“Tsov’ka demands a bit more” he explained. “From the time I was young Tsov’ka has guided me, given me his blessing, and lets me borrow his power as one of his avatars. He kept me safe during the war, I would probably not be here without him”.
“Zen’jan?” you asked, everything about this place screamed at you to run, “What is Tsov’ka god of?”
“The Shadows”.
Part 7
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colourstreakgryffin · 5 months ago
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I have a little suggestion 😔 Buuuttttt If you could…. could you write for human Ryuk for death note? You gotta hear me out though
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You know what… I’m fine with this. I’ve always had Ryuk as one of my fav Death Note characters so why not? For real, for real… he’s so hot in this form! He went from badass and scary to precious hottie
Ryuk- Master of Trickery
Instead of Light, you’re his human and his notebook holder. Ryuk can’t deny that you’re interesting and he is gonna enjoy following you around through your time using his Death Note. In his Shinigami form, he doesn’t really notice how he looks and just excuses it. Suspecting you’ll be fine with him
But you’re curious what Ryuk really can do so when you two are finally alone in your bedroom. You ask Ryuk openly what powers he has, how Shinigami work and whilst Ryuk isn’t that enthusiastic since he considers it boring, he obliges
When he mentions he can transform into a human disguise, that lets him be visible to humans, besides you, as well. You immediately play with the fire that is Ryuk and ask him if he can demonstrate this shapeshifitng ability of his for you
Ryuk wasn’t planning on this when he dropped his notebook onto Earth… he’s been asked by his new human to transform for them? Well. He does it anyway since he suspects it may be fun to troll people with it so he puts his big clawed hand over your eyes
And in a flash. This monstrous yet unique shinigami is now an attractive tall man with pretty black lips and a style that matched the infamous detective, L. Your eyes sparkle with shock at your Shinigami’s transformation as Ryuk lets out a comment that he hasn’t redone this in such a long time
Ryuk noticed the way you gaze at him with surprise and awe, commenting snarky about it but mainly feeling his bare chested self, his baggy slightly undone trousers hugging his humanoid hips as both of you are impressed by the almost Frankenstein stitched patchy skin pieces on his body. He looks like a human but still… a Shinigami
Ryuk does decide to perform this feat again. Pranking you with it, he’ll transform into his human form then putting on a bunch of makeup, stealing the Death Note and pretend he isn’t Ryuk when you ask him. It’s hard to tell since he put a lot of heart into these types of pranks on you
Ryuk needs his apples, even in his human form, so people around him, who can now see him, find him odd for how much he is downing just normal red apples eagerly whilst you and him are at the grocery store
Ryuk cringes badly whenever anybody makes a mention that you and him must be a couple. He isn’t interested in any humans but damn god, he does enjoy the way you seem attracted to his human form. It’s a nice ego boost
Ryuk mainly transforms into his human form and heads out in public with you during your vile little plans to kill your targets as to stay on the back and do as you ask by not showing off his shinigami side, should you let your victims touch the notebook, but it’s not like he minds. He feels handsome like this
Ryuk also takes full advantage of all the girls who admire him in his human form, liking to annoy you by flirting and playing with humans that are drooling all over him. It’s nice, so entertaining and he won’t let you pull him away from it
Ryuk doesn’t use his human form transformation as much as one would suspect, from a guy like him. Mainly because he is too accustom to his Shinigami self that being human feels odd but it doesn’t mean he won’t do it to make you and other girls flaunter over him, for the fun of it
Ryuk does tease you a lot for finding his human form attractive… like, a lot, he doesn’t ever shut up about it. He’ll make you regret ever asking him to demonstrate his abilities… since well, that’s Ryuk
“Eh? What’s with that look… oh. You like the goods; my skin, my eyes, my hair, ‘mm? You’re just as nasty as those other humans. I enjoy it, keep looking”
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brights-place · 11 months ago
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Trollex dating an Deaf S/O
- He noticed you cause you where so close to the speakers in one o the raves and touching it - he just stared at you while hyping up everybody and noticed how you would look up at all the other Techno trolls in awe while you hopped abit and moved side to side with the beat you get from the vibrations - Loved your face when he made the beat drop louder cause it made you more hyped and grinned - You are able to lip read fluently so it's easy to understand what people are asking you sometimes yet it's also sometimes difficult - Though not MOST deaf people can lip read just an little fun fact from your author who's uncle is deaf - you two had your first ever chat after the 3rd rave - Well he talked to you and you just nodded shook your head or just did sign language which he connected the dots quickly - would rush over to you whenever he can somehow, he could read your thoughts and what you want to say but can't at all but try to explain in sign language. - He didn't understand sign language so he just focused on when you're looking at something or someone in a certain way, how your eyebrows furrow. how you squint your eyes, the way your lips curve up or downwards with something he likes and dislikes. - he will sulk at the person and then explain it to them, turning his head at you to know if he was right. - Which he was sometimes it was an 50/50 really depending if he got it right or wrong then remembers your deaf... So he mentally smacked himself in the face - THEN AND THERE! When he wanted to speak to you he wanted to know sign language so you could understand - You fell for him when one of your friends signed to you about how he stood up for you - Found out about his feelings when he saw you vibing to HIS Techno Remix - You fell first HE FELL HARDER - King Trollex WILL beat the shit out of anyone who he sees being ableist towards you like deadass would throw hands and be pissed - Asked some of more high tech trolls (The Funk trolls CAUSE SPACE SHIP!) to make you hearing aids whenever you wanted to wear them - King Quincy and Queen essence cooed at the scene when Trollex gave it for you on your birthday - Trollex cares for you extremely deeply. He tries his best to understand how it feels to be deaf - He makes sure your next to him in the DJ booth so he knows your beside him safe and also so you can be near the speakers to touch the vibrations and feel the beat - Secretly learned sign language from other deaf trolls for you and planned to show you on your anniversary - You caught him doing sign language in secret a couple days before your anniversary and kept it an secret - You tried so hard not to kiss him hard then and there and when it was finally your anniversary you where shaking on your spot excitedly - YOU SWAM SO FAST TOWARDS HIS ASS - Tackled him into an hug grinning and laughing peppering his face with kisses - he's kiss drunk on the spot holding you close and giggling like an idiot - he wanted his knights to learn sign language and gave them the task of following you around - The knights most of the time are translating for those who can't understand you when you use sign language when Trollex can't when he's on his duties - Other then that he would be by your side making sure your safe and are alright
- Blushes and has to explains why he does it
- other trolls cry and tear up at how sweet it was
- You being deaf is not really a problem for him he doesn't mind at all
- he doesn't mind at all explain directly to you what others are saying or explaining it to you the situation
- he always take a moment to explain what happen if you need it
- The first time he did ask you directly if you need him to explain...
- Bliss face palmed in sync with Laguna while Synth gave an thumbs up as they stared at their king who froze realizing what he just did
- You stared at him with absolute confusion. After you've been together for a while he learnt how to identify whenever you need help so he just turn to look at you to know
- You two have an loving relationship and it's so cute that people in techno reef laugh at how cute you two were
- King Trollex WILL beat the shit out of anyone who he sees being ableist towards you like deadass would throw hands and be pissed
- Asked some of more of the high tech trolls (The Funk trolls CAUSE SPACE SHIP!) to make you hearing aids whenever you wanted to wear them
- King Quincy and Queen essence cooed at the scene when Trollex gave it for you on your birthday
- Trollex cares for you extremely deeply. He tries his best to understand how it feels to be deaf
- He makes sure your next to him in the DJ booth so he knows your beside him safe and also so you can be near the speakers to touch the vibrations and feel the beat
- Secretly learned sign language from other deaf trolls for you and planned to show you on your anniversary
- You caught him doing sign language in secret a couple days before your anniversary and kept it an secret
- You tried so hard not to kiss him hard then and there and when it was finally your anniversary you where shaking on your spot excitedly
- YOU SWAM SO FAST TOWARDS HIS ASS
- Tackled him into an hug grinning and laughing peppering his face with kisses
- he's kiss drunk on the spot holding you close and giggling like an idiot
- he wanted his knights to learn sign language and gave them the task of following you around
- The knights most of the time are translating for those who can't understand you when you use sign language when Trollex can't when he's on his duties
- Other then that he would be by your side making sure your safe and are alright
- When he speaks he forgets that he's doing sign language while speaking whenever your near and people point it out
- Blushes and has to explains why he does it
- other trolls cry and tear up at how sweet it was
- You being deaf is not really a problem for him he doesn't mind at all
- he doesn't mind at all explain directly to you what others are saying or explaining it to you the situation
- he always take a moment to explain what happen if you need it
- The first time he did ask you directly if you need him to explain...
- Bliss face palmed in sync with Laguna while Synth gave an thumbs up as they stared at their king who froze realizing what he just did
- You stared at him with absolute confusion. After you've been together for a while he learnt how to identify whenever you need help so he just turn to look at you to know
- You two have an loving relationship and it's so cute that people in techno reef laugh at how cute you two were
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a-dragons-journal · 2 months ago
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Hey um! I’m not trying to support discourse or anything and you’re hella free to delete this ask, but jadeeyedwere is making the rounds again in the tags. Idk if you’d wanna let people know or not..I don’t wanna feed the troll or anything yk but innocent folks are reblogging posts from them and it’s concerning me! Like I said totally feel free to delete this if you need!
Ugh, for real? No, making people aware of actual bestialists is not discourse.
For those unaware, jadeeyedwere is, if not an actual bestialist herself, then at absolute minimum a supporter of bestiality. She openly identifies as a "zoo therian" and associates with and was previously (possibly still? I believe they're no longer together) the partner of mr. missing stair LycanTheory himself:
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(Archived edition her blog to source the screenshot.)
She also helped co-found the site Therian Underground with LycanTheory, a forum specifically for "zoosexual" therians. (This Beware is primarily about Therian Guide and LycanTheory, but the fourth paragraph provides sources for this, and the rest provides sources for how awful LycanTheory is and how open he is and has been for years about his bestiality.)
Let me be very clear: this is not about zoophilia, which is something you can't control having and thus not a moral issue. This is not about feral furry porn, which hurts no one. This is about bestiality, actually acting on that and sexually assaulting a real animal, and the support thereof.
Don't go and harass these people. That will help no one; if they were affected by harassment, they wouldn't still be open about this after all this time. It doesn't even look like Jade is active on Tumblr right now, it just sounds like people are finding and reblogging old posts. But don't platform them either. Block them. Lock them out of your spaces. These are unapologetic bestialists trying to use therianthropy to justify it. They are not safe to be around.
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sofiaruelle · 1 year ago
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Oh wow, I was not expecting a whole drawing of them trying the dance and falling around. It's very beautifully done, I rmmbr just staring in awe for a while at first 🩵
I have another odd question about the she trio/ass gang, which u don't have to draw
Cause I saw a little video of Harvey going hard; dancing to MiseryxCPR(xReese's Puffs) and it had me laughing for a long while, and I wondered who would be the ones singing the song if say the stardrop saloon had some kind of karaoke night
My head tells me both Sam and Abagail would end up doing Reeses's puffs, but that would leave one of the other songs without a host :/
Harvey would probably end up saying stuff about how cpr doesn't require mouth-to-mouth anymore or smthn, and Shane probably worried Marnie would walk in-or just, too drunk off his ass having fun to care 🤔
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nah man i just have to draw them. and oh look I even have another essay under readmore! 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂
✨Also my commissions are open! ✨ if anyone is interested! :D< please reblog/share the og comm sheet ,if you can! it would help me a lot thank you!!!
Honestly i can imagine them all just being pissed drunk before attempting to sing the song😂. i know fersure the SHE trio would require more liquid courage for it (heck even to join/start a kareoke sesh!)
Shane gives of major Kareoke Tito (uncle) vibes~. Yknow that one tito who specifically sings “My Way” by Frank Sinatra and has a bunch of classic rock songs under his belt. He’s not good at singing perse but he can at least carry a tune. He and Sebastian would totally connect with singing Misery. but like Shane vaguely knows the song (he’s heard it on radio a bajillion times but he doesnt know the name of the song so its not quite on his playlists) so he when he’s super sloshed and can barely read the screen, he tries to sing it from memory and misses a couple of the words. but hey! at least he knows the chorus and is in tune.
Meanwhile Sebastian has Misery “secretly” on his go to playlist. He doesnt admit it (the songs is too main stream and overplayed but he stumbled upon a vocaloid cover and rest is history.) He definitely always chooses the song every kareoke sesh (although not his first choice) and he’s passionate about it even has a little performance too(lots of head bangs, fist pumps and that classic 2000s disney knees bent together, feet wide apart moment)! For his duet with shane he’s the first to shed a lil tear and that gets shane going and they cry through most of the song in their own lil misery world ignoring the chaos around them.
Sam is a fucking menace for singing CPR and I do agree He and Abigail would go off on Reese’s Puff BUT i can definitely imagine being commited to singing CPR (we all know he’d awkwardly twerk). Especially if it was to troll on Harvey who probably thought it was a wholesome song about doing CPR at a specific BPM. 😂
Harvey good lird poor harvey! He’s probably the most sober out of everyone. It doesnt help that he’s no light weight + lowkey becomes designated baby sitter everytime (he’s soooooooo going charge them extra in the morning if they come stumbling into his clinic asking for some hangover cure). He was so excited about adding a new song to CPR tempo list he was gonna teach at the nex first aid classes!! Who would have thought that a singer with a cute wholesome name like Cupcakke was just so… sooooo SCANDALOUS!!! He should have known Sam was up to something the moment he grabbed him by the shoulder!!! “This is medical malpractice, Samson!!!” He spends the whole trying to sush Sam who’s having so much fun laughing at Harvey’s reaction 😂
Abigal. F e r a l.
Help! Elliot has fallen over! He honestly just has a mild peanut allergy but he has been drinking and hooo boi. thats not good. thank goodness Harvey is sobered up (with the help of Sam ofc) and has an epipen on hand! Catch Leah cackling from her seat by the bar before assisting Harvey.
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bulliestrolls · 11 months ago
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A Streams Psyche [FLEEK AU]
Introduction to the Fleek AU and what's to come (this was so fun to write hiii)
Honestly, Creek’s never been a huge fan of Branch.
At first, it wasn’t personal at all, or at least he didn’t mean for it to be, he just didn’t like how Branch treated his friends. He was always such a grouch and he was such a downer at every given moment, and it was such a drag to listen to over and over again. If anything, Creek was grateful that Branch typically barricaded himself from everyone else, I mean, if he wasn’t going to be positive, then what was the point of having him around? And yet that never seemed to stop Poppy, her being the future Queen of pop and also his best companion. 
Poppy always seemed adamant on having Branch join their crew and changing his ways. While he never really understood why she wanted to so badly, he couldn’t help but admire her attitude. Something about the peppiness always brought a smile to his face, and he always supported her decisions as a best friend should. Usually though, it never seemed to work in her favor. Branch always blew her off and gave a stink eye to her and everyone else, and quite frankly it got on Creek’s nerves. 
He always did his best to cheer up Poppy whenever it happened, finding it strange how upset she gets over it. Why should she even care if he doesn’t? What was the need to show emotion over someone that didn’t even matter in the long run? Regardless of his thoughts, he succeeded often in bringing back her spirits, the gang usually partying together the remainder of the night as a result. Creek always greatly enjoyed their company, and loved to share his exercises with everyone, his life seemed perfect.
That was until the bergens attack on Pop village. 
Even now, he remembered that day so vividly. Poppy had planned a gigantic celebration for the village to party over them being free from the monsters for so many years. Everyone was so excited to join in on the festivities, everyone except the one who he can’t even think about anymore without clenching his jaw. 
Branch. 
As usual, that damned troll was set on ruining the rest of their fun, claiming how they’re being far too loud and the bergens would get them. Same shit as usual, it was incredible how Creek didn’t gain a headache from the repetitiveness of it. He’s tried before to talk some sense into the troll, but Branch always shoved him away, seemingly as if he were more irate with him than anyone else, which was pretty confusing to Creek. 
Branch, of course, had ended up retreating back to his lonesome bunker, and the rest of the group set up in preparation for the lovely party. And what a party it was, it would’ve been one for the books if the attack hadn’t happened right after. Before much notice, he saw the yellow beady eyes looking down at everyone, and all he can recall is the screams of his friends and the pleas for help which were left unanswered. 
Next thing he had known, he and his buddies were stuffed into a back, shaking with fear and breathing hard, their fate unknown. He remembers not reacting as strongly as his friends had back then. Really, he remembered only thinking of how to relax everyone and for them to have an open and clear mind. How come he hadn’t really processed how awful the situation had been?
Whatever hope he had given his companions started to dwindle the more time went on, especially when everyone had been thrown into a cage, a bergen staring down at them. Even in that situation, Creek had been adamant on everyone remaining calm, and that help would be there soon. He didn’t know if he was even being honest with himself at that moment, he already knew how hopeless the situation had been. And the problem only cemented itself when he was grabbed to be eaten by the Bergens king. 
The moment was instant, he remembered his friends shouting and crying out his name and it all became muffled as the world around him darkened. Originally he had thought he had shut his eyes only to realize he was inside the king's mouth. He was terrified, for the first time in his life, and he could do nothing but accept his fate. Only.. the king’s mouth didn’t do anything. He hadn’t chewed, or swallowed, and it left Creek puzzled.
He still had time! He let out a deep inhale before using all of his core strength to push against the walls of the mouth, letting out a guttural scream until he found himself falling out of it, being met with the two bergens, and the fear kicking back into gear. What was the plan at that point? They were skyscrapers compared to him, running was out of the question. All he could do in that moment was beg for his life, pleading mercy and willing to do anything to be granted such. 
It seemed to have been a running thing through his life, the will to do anything he could in order to get what he wanted. In this case, that was making out of this alive. 
And so, he had made a deal to spare pop village and everyone in exchange to live. He truly wished it didn’t have to be that way, not when he has achieved such a strong bond with the others, but he didn’t have any other choice in the matter, so he reluctantly agreed. The next time he had seen everyone, they were all ecstatic to see that he was still alive, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances. It was short-lived however, when his eyes traveled to Branch, who seemed shocked and… annoyed that Creek was there. 
Really? Even after everything he was still acting like that? Before he had known it, Branch was exclaiming Creeks’ betrayal, his hair wrapping around Creeks neck harshly, cutting off his circulation to breathe. Relief overflooded him when Poppy had pushed Branch back and tried to talk reason into him. When everyone turned over to him however, he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. 
He… didn’t want to lie so he told them the truth of his betrayal, but it was for good reason. He hadn’t been able to get another word in before Poppy was doing the exact same assault Branch was previously. That was expected from Branch, but from HER? His heart was shattering, wondering where his Poppy had gone. She would never have acted like this towards him before, this must’ve been all his doing. He must’ve been changing her.
Why?
Why was she acting like that towards him? Surely she would’ve understood he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he would die otherwise! He insisted that the other trolls would’ve done what he had to if they were placed in his situation. When Branch had resisted her, Creek’s head felt like it was going to blow when he saw him holding onto Poppy like that. What the hell gives, exactly? It wasn’t like this until only now, and it confused the hell out of him. 
If anything, HE should’ve been the one to be angry in this situation. None of them had done anything to save him from his supposed doom, they all thought he was dead, after all. And, while he may not have enjoyed having to betray pop village, he felt a bit of sadistic glee when it involved Branch being part of the equation, especially now. After all, he made all of his friends hate him, telling them things behind his back. Things that showed Creek was the villain in the scenario, which he couldn’t help feel were ridiculous. SURELY they all would’ve done the same in this scenario, right? Right? Branch would’ve, definitely! He didn’t like ANY of them until only recently, apparently. 
The thought of it all made his head spin, he hated it. He hated him. None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for that fucker. Creek could’ve calmed his friends down about the betrayal if not for HIS outburst. He wouldn’t have already been rooted against if not for Branch, his friends would’ve believed him, surely. Maybe… maybe this all was for the best! Yeah, yeah that’s it! At least in this way, Creek could properly punish Branch for all he believed was his fault, and maybe, just maybe, he could change Branch to their side once and for all, a feat Poppy wasn’t able to achieve so he would do it for her instead. Then… everything would return to normal. 
He had hoped at least that everything would return to normal.
Creek ended up returning to Pop village and doing what had to be done, which he felt sorrow for, at least that’s what he showed. It wasn’t really known how he was feeling about it all, but he did pity them all for being so weak and powerless in the situation. 
Some time later he finds that plans went south, and he was rolling out of the bergens kingdom with their chef, who was on fire. It was yet another moment of blink fast and you’d miss it. That was also the moment he realized that he didn’t need to betray them at all and everyone was still alive, which gave him momentary happiness, only for it to dwindle at the fact that everyone was leaving him to die. All he could do at that point was to scream along with the other bergen until the fire was put out and she was dead. Except that’s not exactly what happened. For some reason, the fire hadn’t killed her, which was a bit of a shock to him. It might’ve been due to the rough and thick skin of the bergens, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Regardless, since she was out of it from the pain, he thought he could maybe make an escape.
That was until he felt her cold and bony hand grab him, preparing to finish the job and eat him herself. God, he was just going to die no matter what he did, huh? How was any of it fair at all? 
The moment was thankfully short-lived, or at least so he thought, as he felt both of them falling down into a pit. The bergen had died almost instantaneously, sinking down into the stomach acid of the creature that had swallowed them both. He had more time to react than her about it, his small stature having him fall down at a slower pace. With quick thinking he gathered his hair strength to break out, but he still gained acid burns from being in there already. He screamt from the pain but was desperate to get out, to live.
He eventually had made it out of the monster's pit, gasping heavily as he had access to basic air once more, thanking whatever entity above him that was giving him a second chance at life. The troll had focused on tending to his wounds, letting out a hiss of agony at every touch, but it needed to be done. Once he had finally had a chance to think properly once more after his second near-death experience, it washed down on him like a dam. 
None of them cared if he died, hell, it seemed as if nobody even realized he was gone. What could he do from here? He certainly couldn’t have returned to pop village, at least not right now. If they were willing to give him up to a bergen, then they’d likely execute him on the spot for his ‘crimes’. All he could do right now was prepare for his eventual return, knowing that whenever that may have been, there was no going back to the way things used to be. His relationship with them all had been completely severed, and the way he could feel about things felt more warped than ever. 
In the months and the year it took until he returned, he practiced learning basic expressions, reacting to things suddenly and unreasonably to see their effect on others. How to truly react to things became null to him ever since that day, and it was a struggle to come across as normal afterwards. Nevertheless, he persisted, adamant on changing people's minds on him, and getting them to love him once more. 
As expected, his return was at first unwelcomed, him being met with Branch yet again, who was right at Poppy’s side. He couldn’t help but scoff mentally at the fact he was replaced with THIS troll of all things, but he kept his calm and cool stature, claiming guilt and being apologetic to everyone, even though he still didn’t really believe he did anything wrong. It was a stressful situation after all, still, he let them know he was willing to repent for everything and do whatever it takes to gain back everyone’s trust once more. Branch’s face during that moment couldn’t help but creep into Creek’s mind, remembering its vile expression clearly. 
For the most part, everything had been calm. He worked hard and dutifully, really gaining back his place back into the village. It was going according to his plan beside the.. Setbacks. For some reason, anytime he saw Branch, there was the unbridled and raw rage that built inside of him. Sure, he could just stay away from where Branch is, but it’s not that easy unfortunately. Not when he’s constantly walking behind Poppy like a mutt. That is also not to mention Branch had recently reunited with his family members, his brothers. 
Oh great, there’s more of them multiplying. They’re like amoeba. Disgusting, filthy amoeba. 
It seemed that no matter what Creek did, he was always met with Branch’s face in one way or another. Sometimes it got so bad that he lost sleep due to it. He’s also had violent spells on his lonesome just thinking about it all, punching at walls and ripping out his hair just to do something about the thing he had no control of. That was getting pretty old though, and he decided if he couldn’t get away from Branch, he should work on ways of getting rid of him. 
There was one brother that Creek didn’t seem to mind, whose name was Floyd. Floyd was the second youngest brother, according to Branch, and was also quite the apathetic being. Creek never intended getting close or even talking to him, but one thing led to another and it turned out that they could connect pretty well. Floyd would always check up on him, and even started doing yoga, which made Creek overjoyed. Nothing else was expected of their partnership, that is until he had noticed how uncomfortable it had made Branch. Not only that, but Poppy even talked to Branch about how nothing could be done because Creek wasn’t hurting anyone. The comment of her not liking him either stung, but was quickly wiped once he realized what this could mean for him. 
This was it. THIS was how he could fix his issue with Branch, it all made sense! Creek hated seeing Branch happy, and that must be where all of the rage came from! If Branch were in ruins however, then Creek could return back to normal, even feeling a bit of joy from it. His friendship with Floyd was enough to unsettle Branch, so why not take it a step further? He could start flirting with him, taking him out on dates, hell, maybe one day he could even ask for his hand in marriage. Oh, Creek bet that would kill Branch. The thoughts in his head raced with ideas for what he could plan with Floyd, and it made him positively giddy.
If only he had known what this all would’ve done to him, then maybe he would’ve rethought everything.
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therentyoupay · 3 months ago
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How would you write Elsa falling first? I absolutely adore your loser Jack pining after put together Elsa, but how would you reverse their roles?
i promise i promise i did not mean to write a one-shot for this. and i SWEAR it is ACTUALLY a one-shot. it is the OLD-SCHOOL definition of a one-shot, because i opened this ask and thought, aw, wouldn't it be cute if i just wrote a little tiny ficlet to illustrate an example of this scenario instead? and then out came 5,297 words. in one sitting. in ONE SHOT.
i would also like the record to show that i LOVED this challenge, i love trying out new scenarios or styles that subvert all the habits i've gotten myself into over the past decade or so!! thank you for this ask!! and, also, let the record show, that even as i wrote a full 5k+ of fic leading up to a "she falls first, he falls harder" scenario, i still couldn't quite hit the mark... in this case, i think it's open to interpretation as to whether she falls first, or they fall at the same time. 🤣 ENJOY. p.s. LOSER JACK?? LMAO WHAT IS THIS
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“Watch your head—“
She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the churning of what appeared to be a factory conveyor belt gone awry. A tiny creature smaller than even a Norwegian Mountain Troll cried out in dismay as a cascade of nutcrackers fell into a sorting bin meant for what appeared to be that latest handheld gaming device—the Swap, or something.
Elsa grinned at the chaos surrounding her—little elves scolding one another, scurrying about—and wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to see the Pooka—Bunnymund—grinning in delight at her delight. 
(I told you, his eyes seemed to say, as he gestured for her to continue ahead of him through the vast workshop chamber toward the office tucked away in the back. You wouldn’t regret it, if you came with me.)
Without giving him the satisfaction—yet—Elsa merely took in all the productivity around them, and let her gaze sparkle with the Wonder she knew was in them; dryly, she marveled, “It’s July.”
“Christmas doesn’t take holidays, mate,” Bunny winked. “Especially not here.”
Elsa stuck her courage to the sticking place as they approached the office—the door was slightly ajar. No matter what happens, Elsa inhaled and exhaled; you can always go back to Ahtohallan, to Antarctica.
You don’t have to stay here—with them.
Strengthened by this truth, Elsa squared her shoulders and softened her face into something curious and approachable as Bunny opened the door, not bothering to knock.
“OI.” Bunny stepped through the office, holding the door wide, which allowed Elsa to wait at the threshold—suspended between two worlds, two moments, two paths… perhaps two different lives.
“WHAT—Bunny, how many times I say, KNOCK, this program, it is DELICATE—“
“I got a delivery,” Bunny interrupted, and his whole body flinched at the look she gave him, “Er. I mean. I got someone here who you might wanna meet.”
And if Elsa had known then what she knew now, she would have realized in that moment (when North laid eyes on her that July evening in the middle of his work on the newest rollout of the popular role-playing video game—the Sums, or something) that, truly, the future was always in motion, her path already treaded, and—despite all her beliefs, her past, her heartbroken memories—her heart was already preparing to have two homes.
//
Elsa had visited plenty of warm—tropical, arid, sweltering—and chaotic, sprawling places in her travels, but none quite compared to the utter bustle of the Workshop. 
Over the next three weeks of her stay, Elsa grew accustomed to the factory’s noises, to the bickering between the elves and their strange adoration for her, to the yeti’s curious questions about her years at the south pole. They asked relentless questions about the melting ice caps, the fierce predators, and the tiny human-made stations; she answered them as best she could, having wandered Antarctica for only half a decade before Bunnymund happened to find her at the tip of Cape Adare. When she tried to explain that she was much more familiar with the Arctic, they listened politely, but they were clearly much less interested in land so close to home. They also had the strangest custom of bringing her icicles when they returned from their perimeter patrols; she was growing quite a large collection of them in the guest room in the Main House. 
The others—called Guardians, she learned—flitted in and out of this headquarters at seemingly all times of day. 
Sandy was shocked and delighted to see her again; they’d run into each other just once during the late 1940s, and only when Elsa was passing through a city—Barcelona, if Memory served—to familiarize herself with the changing of the times as quickly as possible. 
Sandy made no delay in giving her a much more insightful tour of the Workshop than North’s exuberant one had been, which had focused rather on not-so-subtle hints at how wonderful a life it was to be a Guardian, and such wonderful news it was to hear that Elsa was intrigued by Bunnymund’s offer to meet them, and so wonderful that Elsa had been spending all these years doing all that she could to explore the wonders of the world. 
(North was lovely, and welcoming, and fierce—and so boisterous!
And not subtle at all.)
After a few days of visiting the Workshop, Elsa grew comfortable enough to truly relax as she roamed its halls, visited the various stages of production, and occasionally caught up with Bunny as he flitted in and out of the Shop (“Easter is on Holiday!” he’d said, with another wink). She dined with North and his team of merry workers, often with Bunny, who, she learned, was rather too fond of eggnog, and sometimes with Sandy as well. 
After only a few hours into Sandy’s first visit, Elsa allowed herself to laugh with her whole chest at the ridiculous antics, the absurdity of it all, the bickering among Sandy, and North, and Bunny—and allowed herself to be endeared by the clear respect they held for one another, by the lightness in the air, the distinct sensation of family. That night, Elsa didn’t immediately retreat to her room after dinner, as she normally would have.
The Memories were not so painful, here. 
//
And their stories! 
They regaled her each night over (and after) dessert—about this horrid creature named Pitch Black, about the Moon, about the Battle of Burgess—they all sounded like fairytales to Elsa, even if she, herself, had practically been living in one for nearly two hundred odd years. 
The others told her of two other coalition members who fought beside them—both of whom were exceptionally busy, and who would not be journeying to the North Pole again until it was time to celebrate the Equinox.
Elsa was curious about Toothiana—and anxious, about the Memories she protected—and especially curious about the Guardian named Jack… 
Frost. 
She did not shy away from asking more about him—Elsa had far too little time to worry about such silly fears like embarrassment; immortality was funny like that—and her curiosity grew with each tale she heard. The Guardians spoke of Jack with a mix of fondness and exasperation—his mischievous nature, his loyalty, how bloody annoying he is, I tell ya, that’s what I say.
Elsa could not help but laugh at Bunny’s pervasive frustration with his teammate; his respect for Jack was clear, even if his patience was not.
Still… she had been wandering the world for over 200 years, and in all that time, she had never encountered any others like her, and certainly not anyone especially like her. 
The thought of meeting someone who might understand,  who might have powers like hers,  stirred something deep within her— something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She caught Bunny staring at her in the midst of a reverie by the fire during an after-dinner coffee, so she crisply declared, “Don’t say it.”
“What’s that, Ice-pop? Sorry, couldn’t quite hear you over all of that Hope in your heart.”
Bunny, Elsa learned, was used to ducking snowballs.
//
Later that evening, as she stood by one of the desperately-tall windows in the corridor leading to her guest quarters—watching the snowflakes drift lazily from the sky—Elsa couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually meet him. 
The thought of Jack—a potential ally? a friend? a teammate?—occupied her mind more and more as the days passed, and with each story the Guardians told, Elsa found herself hoping that this Jack Frost—a teacher? a guide? a confidant?—would be looking forward to meeting her, too.
//
Sometimes, late at night, she would lie awake and wonder what it would be like to have someone in her life who understood her powers as deeply as she did. She imagined his face, always in motion, always just out of reach, and felt a strange sense of—Hope? Elsa rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Anticipation? Perhaps.
Fear?
In these quiet moments, she found her spirit reaching out, as if she could almost call to him—but of course, he was completely out of reach, never having met her before, and likely, perhaps, not even knowing that she existed until only recently... But her heart would quicken at the idea of meeting this person like her, of seeing his eyes—what color?—filled with the same understanding, the same longing for connection that she felt.
What would he think of her? Would he see the strength she had built over centuries? Or would he only see the loneliness that still clung to her, despite all her efforts to cast it aside?
The questions swirled in her mind, mingling with a strange sense of exhilaration that made her feel both alive and vulnerable.
She could almost hear the laughter they might share, the way their powers could dance together in the air, creating something beautiful, something new.
And in those moments, she couldn’t help but smile, imagining a world where she wasn’t alone, where someone else could stand beside her in the snow, not as an adversary— 
But as an equal.
//
“And did he wield ice magic as a human, as well?” Elsa pressed over after-dinner coffee in the drawing room, leaning forward in her chair near the fireplace. North’s giant hands were absurdly large compared to his delicate teacup. “Before he became a Guardian?”
“As a matter of fact—no. The power came later, AFTER Turning.”
Elsa considered his words carefully. Something about his expression seemed rather cagey; centuries of reading strangers’ faces had only honed her political prowess, which had been born out of survival as much as any sense of duty. 
“North, tell me: why do you want me to join the Guardians?” 
“I—ah! ELSA—
“Because ya’d be mighty good at it!” Bunny blurted, calling over from his newspaper reading on the other side of the drawing room, to North’s indignant sputtering, “if you wisened up and stopped hiding all Hope and Wonder!” And then, as an afterthought, “And it’ll keep Jack humble, I reckon!”
“ASTER!” North scolded fiercely, but he set the tiniest teacup down with the tiniest clink and placed the saucer on the coffee table with such deliberate care, even in his fit of anger, that Elsa couldn’t hold back a small, genuine smile. 
//
“Dont’cha worry, Ice-Pop,” Bunny told her later, as they stood in the wide, cold corridor leading into the main entry chamber of the Workshop, where Bunny preferred to open his portals. Elsa quirked a brow at him, and he chuckled. “We’re not here to actually convince ya. We just want you to see that there’s another option. This Choice… well. Guardians gotta make it for themselves.”
She still had too many questions. How is it that I had never crossed paths with any of you but Sandy, before? 
How is it that I have managed to avoid Pitch for all these years? 
Why me? What can I really offer—when you already have someone who can already do what I do?
“You still have time before you have to decide. And you need to meet the rest, anyway. Just think about it, is all,” he said, all his wisdom seeping into the very air around them. He cracked open a portal and, a moment later, he was gone. 
//
“Oh!” said an utterly beautiful creature, her wings fluttering with so much excitement and delight that she was practically vibrating. “You must be Elsa!”
Elsa and Toothiana took to one another with surprising ease; time had steadied Elsa’s heart, had taught her the patience and endurance and the strength of a glacier; time had energized Toothiana, who took charge of the world with her vast army and a wide smile. But it had been so long since Elsa had even felt anything remotely similar to the feel of holding onto her sister—and Toothiana understood, completely. 
Toothiana shared stories of her own—a whirlwind of adventures collecting memories and moments, each one a treasure she held dear.
(Toothiana's eyes softened as she took Elsa's hands in her own, her understanding gentle yet firm. "I know what it’s like to carry the weight of Memories, Elsa," Toothiana whispered, her voice a comforting balm. "But here, with us, you don’t have to carry them alone. We’re all in this together, and we’ll help you find your way.”)
And Elsa found herself starting to believe her. 
To Believe in them.
//
When the Guardians gathered around the fire—taking time, they said, to ensure that past mistakes were never repeated, that they carved out time for themselves the way they never used to—the conversation inevitably turned to their adventures, to answering Elsa's questions. Somehow, Jack always seemed to be at the center of their tales.
She was rather alarmed to realize the extent to which she had begun to wait for these moments, eager to hear more about Jack, piecing together an image of him in her mind that was as elusive as snowflakes on the wind. Why on earth does not a single Guardian commission a portrait, for goodness’ sake? But Elsa dared not ask for a Memory; apparently, there were still some things left worth being too embarrassed to ask for, after all.
So she contented herself with the way Sandy would add details to the story that the others had forgotten, conjuring up glowing scenes of Jack’s playful antics in vague, golden sand—flurries of snowflakes, intricate frost patterns on windows, and the gleeful laughter of children echoing through the air. 
She would find all their efforts rather suspicious… if they weren’t all being so utterly obvious about their Hopes.
Thus, one evening, as they were all gathered around the fire, Elsa couldn’t help but ask, “How did Jack become a Guardian?”
Bunny’s keen eye sharpened upon her cheek; she withstood the scrutiny, allowing him no further entry to her mind, as he added, “Jack was chosen by the Moon, like the rest of us.” 
“But Jack…” Toothiana’s voice was soft and somber and unusually serious; the atmosphere in the room shifted, its axis tilting ever so slightly. “He had a harder time accepting it. At first! That is.”
“Took him a while to figure out, is all,” Bunny held his boomerang up to the light, checking the polish. “He came around, eventually.”
“Why?” Elsa asked, genuinely curious.
Sandy floated closer, his golden sand forming an image of a young boy standing alone in the snow, his face a mixture of confusion and sorrow. The image flickered, and the boy’s expression shifted to one of determination and hope.
“Not easy for Jack, his Turning was,” North said, his voice softening. “Not easy for any of us… But Jack had no Memories of his past, no knowledge why he was Chosen. It wasn’t until centuries after his Turning that he found his center.”
“His center?” Elsa echoed, intrigued.
“FUN!” North boomed, smiling, and sending teacups clattering everywhere. Elsa clutched her saucer with both hands. “But not just ANY fun—bringing joy and wonder to children, making them BELIEVE in magic and in themselves. THAT is Jack’s true power!”
Elsa considered this as Bunny complained about dropping his boomerang polish and spilling it all over the carpet. Toothiana was laughing at him and offering to help in equal turns, as Elsa’s mind turned over the implications of centers—and Jack’s in particular. She had spent so long searching for her own purpose, her own… center? Do I have one? As well? Is that why Bunny had found her, out alone at the edge of the iceberg, at the exact moment when she had let it all go, had accepted that she may never find her purpose, that perhaps she did not have one—was that the moment that they had been waiting for?
And now, here in this team, Elsa might soon meet someone who had also once struggled with the same questions, who had found his answers in the most unexpected ways… It makes me, dare I say it… Wonder... 
She glanced at the Guardians, each of them so sure of their place, their role in the world, with all their quirks and their trust and their happiness. They had found their centers, their reasons for being. And Jack—this mysterious figure who was off wreaking havoc in some apparently historic winter season in New England—had somehow found the same. She wanted to know more about this spirit who had lived in solitude for so long, who had found a family among these remarkable beings, and who wielded the same icy power she did, yet in a way so different from her own—or, at least, so they thought. Nobody could quite seem to explain to her the exact mechanics of it all.
The more she heard about him, the more she felt a growing need to meet him. She caught herself imagining what their first meeting might be like—whether he would be as mischievous as they said, or if they would take a liking to one another right away, bonded by their similar powers, their similar stories… Perhaps he might help her make sense of… all this? Maybe there was something in him that could help her understand herself better. Maybe he could be… another friend? An ally. A partner. Elsa did not care about the name; what mattered was only that they could learn from each other. 
But still. She could not quite deny that her excitement at the chance of meeting him was, perhaps, a bit more complicated than all that. 
“I still don't understand. You already have someone whose powers are like mine,” Elsa pointed out reasonably, just when the others had started to turn the conversation to simpler matters. “How could I possibly contribute?”
Bunny barked with laughter from the other side of the circle, over the recipe book he was now reading, preparing for their grand dinner to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. Sandy giggled in golden, sparkling shimmers. North’s laughter was as reassuring as it was alarming.
“ELSIE, my dear,” North boomed as he strode closer to the wing-backed chairs that Toothiana and Elsa were hoarding by the fire, just under the wide window of the central tower, which overlooked the northern tundra. “It is not about powers alone! It is CENTERS.”
“And besides!” Bunny called out over his recipe book, adjusting his reading glasses over the bridge of his twitching nose. She could feel his cheekiness from the other side of the room, but Elsa was particularly amused by the way Toothiana’s whole body tensed up in preparation for Bunny’s antics.  “You’re the better deal on both fronts, anyway!” 
Toothiana scolded him for the next five minutes but hardly put any real fire into it, and North’s voice echoed throughout the study (“Now, now, Bunny—Jack has only been with us for two years now—and he has done SPLENDID job—“), and Sandy had already fallen asleep in his preferred winged-back chair by the fire, lulled into a nap by the comforting sound of his fellow Guardians arguing over something utterly ridiculous.
//
Late that night, as Toothiana hastily prepared for departure and her return to her endless work, she caught Elsa by surprise. 
“We’ll understand if you would rather return,” Toothiana was gracious, so considerate in her efforts to not step on painful Memories, to not push Elsa too hard or too fast, too soon. “We recognize that this choice, this Oath, is not for everyone. But we hope you’ll consider it.”
Elsa nodded, appreciating the understanding in Tooth's eyes, though she couldn’t quite find the words to express it. The kindness and patience offered—by all of them—made her feel both comforted and conflicted; this was a choice she had to make for herself, but knowing she wouldn’t be judged either way brought a small measure of peace. 
Toothiana let out a knowing smile that Elsa didn’t quite understand. 
//
Two days before the Autumnal Equinox, the North Pole was strangely quiet; all others were out and about and attending to their centers, preparing their final tasks before they would all meet for the celebration, here in North’s home. 
She thus found herself wandering the hallways alone, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, thinking of the word home, and how it had changed for her over the years—first, her kingdom; then, her sister; then, the secrets that lay in the depths of Ahtohallan, and then nowhere at all.
What was home?
She paused in front of a large, intricately carved door she hadn’t noticed before. There was something inviting about it, something that called to her curiosity. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed it open, stepping into a room bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.
The room was a gallery of sorts, filled with shelves upon shelves of intricate snow globes, each one containing a different scene—some of them cheerful, others serene, and a few that looked like they were mid-snowstorm. Elsa moved closer, her breath catching as she realized what she was seeing. Each snow globe was a memory—not one of Toothiana’s collections of course, but rather, a moving picture—a small clip of some film, captured in glass and suspended in time.
She reached out to touch one that was particularly beautiful—a snow globe depicting a small village blanketed in fresh snow, children playing and laughing as they built snowmen and threw snowballs. The scene was so vivid, so real, that she could almost hear their laughter.
“Beautiful, no?” a voice said softly from behind her.
Elsa turned to see North standing in the doorway, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.
“They’re not Memories,” Elsa whispered, more to herself than to him. “They’re… Reminders.”
“Yes. They help with the Wonder, of course.”
Elsa couldn’t move her gaze away from the glass again. “Whose are they?”
North stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with genuine warmth, with joy. “They belong to all of us. The children, the Guardians… and a few others.”
He gestured to a shelf on the far wall, where a single snow globe sat, slightly larger than the others. It depicted a lone figure standing in the middle of a frozen lake, surrounded by a dense forest. Snowflakes danced around him, but there was a sadness to the scene, a loneliness that tugged at Elsa’s heart. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the glass.
“That one,” North said softly, “also belongs to Jack.”
Elsa’s breath caught. She had heard so much about him, yet she still knew so little. The thought of him, alone in this beautiful but desolate scene, stirred something deep within her.
Are you someone out there  who's a little bit like me?
Who knows deep down  I'm not where I'm meant to be?
“Yes, he’s been through much,” North continued, his voice gentle, washing over Elsa’s rapidly-blinking thoughts, through the strange swell of sadness that swam through her chest. “But he IS strong, and has found his place among us. Still, there are parts of him that are… sometimes, difficult to reach. Things that… perhaps… someone may help… heal?”
Elsa side-eyed him, beneath her lashes. “You are growing less subtle each day, I fear.”
His boisterous laugh told her he wasn’t deterred in the slightest.
“Elsa, when few more centuries you have, you too shall learn when to drop SUBTLETY. No?”
Haven’t I already? But she humored him with a smile instead. 
“Whatever you decide—we will support you, your Majesty.”
Elsa’s smile slipped, without her meaning to. Throat thick, she whispered, “No one has called me by that title for a very long time.”
Her eyes pricked with tears as North stepped closer to her, looking down at her—the way her father used to. The way her father might have, had he lived long enough to see her step into her own power, at last.
“I do not call you Majesty because you were Queen, or Snow Queen; I say because I remind you that what you have, and what you are, at your center, is FULL of that which makes living so majestic. It is my sincere wish that—“ and Elsa inhaled at the strange expression that passed his face, the soft mix of hope and resignation all at once— “You will choose the Oath with your full heart.”
Elsa wanted to thank him, but she didn’t want to lie; before she could settle on the perfect breath of diplomacy, North patted her shoulder in reassurance, and left the gallery, leaving Elsa with all the Reminders that were not hers, but insisted she be strong, anyway. 
She gazed into the large snow globe, at the figure standing alone on the frozen lake in the deep forest, and Wondered, truly, for the first time, This was also my past… 
Will I also find my future here, too?
//
The Equinox arrived, at last. Elsa had fashioned herself a dress for the occasion, and the excitement buzzing through the Workshop was palpable—everywhere she turned, there were smiles and knowing glances exchanged between the elves and the yetis, as if they all shared a secret that she was just on the cusp of understanding, but not quite privy to.
Elsa did not startle at Bunny’s sudden entrance behind her, but it was a near thing. 
“Stop twitching,” Bunny muttered as he sidled up beside her, at the window, where she was watching the horizon and waiting for the other Guardians to arrive. When she glanced up at him, she found his nose twitching in nervous anticipation. “Don’t overthink it, Ice-pop. Jack’s a handful, but he’s got a good heart.”
“Oh? No further jabs at your friendly foe?”
“Nah,” Bunny grinned. “Today, I’m on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”
“You mean ‘Toothy’s honor’.”
“Aye, that too.”
She considered pointing out that his nose was equally twitchy, but she let it slide. 
Elsa understood.
And that understanding grew as some of the Guardians started to all trickle in at once; Toothiana sent wide glances about and around the room upon her arrival, and later, as she fussed with the elves’ itineraries, kept catching Bunny’s eye when they thought Elsa was not looking; Sandy checked his watch repeatedly after greeting them all with warm, sandy hugs; perhaps he was conscientious of the time… and yet… North’s laughter was too loud to be completely genuine. Elsa was beginning to understand the true purpose of tonight, swiftly and deeply; this night was no mere dinner, and no simple introduction. Tonight was an audition. An interview.
A trial. 
At this point, Elsa didn’t even mind the inquisition; she just wanted it to start.
//
The storm outside had been raging for over an hour, and yet there was still no sign of Jack. The wind howled, whipping snow into frenzied swirls that danced and spun against the windows of North’s Workshop. The Guardians stood by the large bay window, watching the tempest with a mixture of awe and concern. Elsa had seen far fiercer storms before… but seeing this storm here, now…? 
Elsa didn’t know what to think.
“Where do you suppose he is?” Toothiana murmured, her wings fluttering nervously as she peered out at the swirling snow. “When I got off the globe with him a few hours ago, he’d been in a good mood! Do you think he got distracted along the way?”
Sandy nodded, his golden sand forming an image of a snowflake, delicate and intricate, before it dispersed into the air. North stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving the storm.
“Such a nuisance,” Bunny agreed, his ears twitching as he squinted into the whiteout. “But he’ll wear himself out soon enough. Let’s get started, shall we?”
“Perhaps we might,” North rumbled, his voice filled with a deep, resonant certainty. “Jack may wish to make GRAND entrance—”
Elsa stood slightly apart from the others while they discussed, her eyes fixed on the tempest outside. The storm’s power called to something deep within her, something she recognized and understood. She had created countless storms like this, back in her darker days, when her emotions had been a force she couldn’t control. Here, she’d wanted to be a good guest, so it had been a month since she’d truly put her powers to proper use, out in the relative safety of the deep Antarctic deserts. But this… 
There was a wildness to it, a reckless abandon. This storm wasn’t about emotion. It was—it’s— 
He’s playing!
Just as the words passed through her mind, a voice suddenly piped up behind them, casual and completely out of place in the loud, bustling, tense atmosphere. 
“What are y’all looking at?”
The Guardians turned as one, startled by the unexpected intrusion. There, leaning against a large shepherd’s crook, was someone who could be none other than Jack Frost—his expression one of casual amusement as he took in the scene before him. He had somehow appeared without a sound.
The room, which had been brimming with anticipation, fell into a moment of stunned silence, then burst back into noise and life in the very next breath.
Elsa blinked, her heart still racing from the intensity of the storm and the weight of her expectations. But now, seeing Jack standing there, looking so nonchalant and distant, she didn’t know whether to laugh or feel disappointed. He was lean, with his staff slung over his shoulder, and there was an air of mischief about him, tempered by something darker, something cautious.
North was the first to fully recover, letting out a booming laugh that overpowered the other surprised voices in the room. “Jack, you never fail to surprise us! We were just admiring your WORK outside, no?”
Jack grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, that? Yeah, just setting the mood.”
Bunny rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a menace, Frostbite. You know that?”
Jack shrugged, his grin widening. “Just doing my job.”
Elsa felt a strange mix of emotions as she watched the easy banter between Jack and the other Guardians. She realized, perhaps too late, that she had built up this moment in her mind, imagining a dramatic, powerful entrance that would define their first meeting. Instead, she was faced with the reality of Jack Frost: a mischievous, irreverent spirit who seemed to take very little seriously, including the storm he had unleashed.
It was at that moment—in her quiet evaluation, her unexplained disappointment, her curious, lingering hope—that Jack caught her gaze. 
Blue.
The playful expression slipped away, just for a flash; his blue eyes met hers, and she saw something there amidst the lingering laughter—something raw and guarded, something that told her that, like her, he was grappling with his own mixed expectations. 
For a fleeting moment, Elsa’s breath caught in her throat, not just from the intensity of his gaze, but from the unexpected warmth that spread through her, as if she’d been touched by a sudden gust of spring wind.
“Jack, Jack, my boy, come—meet Elsa! Our dear Elsa—this is Jack, our newest Guardian.”
Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat. The room seemed to hold its breath as Jack hesitated—and then he stepped forward, approaching them at the window; Elsa stood patiently at Bunny’s side, watching Jack’s tousled white hair catch the light of the whiteout outside, watching as his blue eyes deliberately scanned the decorations around the room. 
Jack Frost… ?
Elsa waited, patient as a glacier as Jack’s smirking gaze flickered over the gathered Guardians as he reached them, and he saluted North with a deliberately careless air. His smirking gaze lingered on each of them before finally landing on hers. 
“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied. His tone was not unkind, but deliberately casual. “New Guardian, right? They’ve been talking about you non-stop.”
There was a hint of something sharp in his voice, and Elsa felt a pang of anxiety, which she pushed down; Bunny was covering his muttering face with his hand, and Toothiana was rolling her eyes to the ceiling in dismay—or perhaps prayer. Elsa quickly assessed the crisp stare and the hard line of his jaw; she’d been hoping for warmth, for understanding, but what she found in Jack’s gaze was something closer to suspicion.
Keeping her gaze on his, trying to ease the tension she could feel coiling between them, she softly corrected, “I’m not a Guardian.”
At least, not yet… 
Or so I… 
Elsa felt her chin raise; old habits falling back into place; perfect and pretty and polite, all smooth ice underneath; an effective mask for a Queen.
“I’m here on an invitation,” she said softly, and knew that he would not see the ice daggers in her eyes; not yet, although she was certain he was looking for them. “I’m very grateful to North and all of you for hosting me in honor of this autumnal celebration.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
That is suspicion there, isn’t it? And guardedness… He was trying hard to hide something behind a facade of coolness—some debonair indifference. Elsa recognized the act immediately but played along because there was something else there, too, something that made her heart ache with a familiar loneliness. I’m an ally, she tried to impress upon him through nothing more than the thought. Enough of this!
I could be a friend! 
But then, Toothiana swooped in, her wings fluttering with a cheerful energy that instantly distracted them—if not immediately lifting the mood.
“Well! Isn’t this just the perfect way to spend the Equinox?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, drawing their attention away from one another; Elsa was grateful for Toothiana’s quick thinking, her impressive tact. “Jack, I’m sure you’re energized and starving for a glass of eggnog after all that storm-making. Let’s not waste any more time!”
“Uh, did Bunny make it?” 
“What’s it to ya, you little twerp?” Bunny shot back, narrowing his eyes with mock suspicion.
Jack grinned, the tension easing slightly as he fell into what must have been familiar banter. “Just making sure it’s safe, is all. Wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get sick on her first night here.”
“Actually, she’s been here for over a month now—“
Elsa watched the exchange (Jack was rolling his eyes) with a mixture of amusement and relief and… unease. (Toothiana’s interruption had indeed worked wonders, shifting the focus away from the awkwardness of their initial encounter and giving everyone, including herself, a chance to breathe.)
(And yet… the warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the chill still clinging to her thoughts.)
As they all moved toward the dining room, Elsa fell in step beside Toothiana, grateful for the other Guardians’ subtle (for once!) alliance and support. She marveled at how, even two centuries since her last political summit, Elsa still remembered every step of walking into a political negotiation; Elsa knew how to navigate delicate situations, how to read the subtlest shifts in tone, how to win.
Elsa had always been a fine Reader of the Room; centuries of invisibility had only strengthened her skills. 
And so the Trial begins…
This first impression was a test—one she intended to pass.
//
And although Jack started to relax once they were all seated and well into the evening—his guarded expression giving way to something more genuine as he bantered with Bunny and teased North about his over-the-top decorations—the knots in Elsa’s stomach remained. 
How could she make him see that she wasn’t here to replace him—but to find her own place among them?
The Guardians fell into their usual rhythm as they ate and laughed together, the conversation flowing (mostly) easily between them. Elsa, too, had found her own rhythm with the Guardians during her month-long stay, understanding certain inside jokes and the fascinating nuances of their personalities. But even as she joined in their laughter, the tension between her and Jack was palpable, thicker than the winter storm raging outside.
She observed how Jack's eyes flicked between her and the other Guardians, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he noted instances of the easy familiarity she had developed with them over the previous weeks. He joked along with everyone else, but there was a sharpness to his tone, occasionally—and it seemed that all the other Guardians could clearly tell, even if they were choosing to ignore it with varying degrees of patience… and understanding. 
Elsa could feel him measuring every word she said, every laugh she shared with the others. It wasn’t just that she was new or unfamiliar—it was that she had quickly become a part of something that Jack had spent years, perhaps centuries, building with them.
All of the Guardians’ assurances and encouragement over the past month had not hinted at the true nature of their concern; Elsa realized quite quickly that this rift wasn’t something that could be resolved with pleasantries or polite conversation.   
Winning his trust wouldn’t come easily—it would demand more than just time; it would require something deeper.
//
Later that night, after everyone had retired to their quarters or gone out for their evenings of work, Elsa found herself wandering the halls of North’s Workshop, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions, as was her wont.
The evening had not exactly gone to plan, but she supposed it could have been worse. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack still viewed her as a threat. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. She’d need to discuss it with Toothiana tomorrow. Perhaps they might lend me a snow globe?
As she rounded a corner, headed toward the snow globe Reminder gallery, she nearly collided with Jack himself—who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He was leaning casually against the wall, his staff resting on his shoulder, but there was a tension in his posture that belied his relaxed demeanor. 
He’d been waiting for her.
“Jack,” she said, startled but keeping her voice steady; once more, familiar, old-fashioned patterns of politeness resurfaced in her moment of uncertainty. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Could say the same about you. Can’t sleep?”
Elsa hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Just... thinking. It’s been a lot to take in.”
Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “You know, everyone seems pretty excited about you joining us. North, Bunny, even Tooth—they all think you’d be a great addition.”
She could hear the ‘but’ hanging in the air, unspoken but heavy between them; the way addition sounded like replacement. 
Elsa squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. There was an intensity in his eyes, a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine, though she quickly attributed it to the cold. “Jack, I’m not here to replace you.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and clear. For a moment, Jack’s expression flickered, something vulnerable and upset flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Who said anything about that?”
“No one—listen to me, I know you’re worried,” Elsa continued, refusing to let him deflect. “But you have no need to be. I’m not here to take your place. I’m here because…” Why am I here? “I was invited. I am simply getting to know you all better. I’ve been alone for some time.”
“Spare me the politicking,” Jack huffed, which, indeed, Elsa did take offense to. Especially since she genuinely had not been trying to be diplomatic; just careful.
Perhaps he didn’t believe her story… about being alone?
The idea was more painful than she expected.
Elsa’s eyes narrowed slightly, holding Jack’s gaze.  “I’m not here to play games, Jack. I’m just looking for where I might belong—that is all.”
“Will you take the Oath, then? What’s your center?”
Elsa couldn’t explain it, but this struck her as an absurdly personal question. Still. She could recognize a caged animal when she saw one. So, Elsa took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question press down on her. The idea of the Oath, of finding her center, had been something she had pondered endlessly since she’d learned of its existence—perhaps since her arrival, if she was being honest. But to be confronted with it so directly by Jack, someone who still seemed to see her as a rival, made it all the more daunting.
“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been... trying to understand what it would mean for me to take the Oath, to become a Guardian.” She willed him to understand, at last. “It’s not something I want to rush into without being certain.”
Jack’s gaze remained fixed on her, his blue eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer there—a recognition, perhaps, of the honesty in her words. “And your center?” he pressed. “Do you even know what it is yet?”
Elsa hesitated again, her thoughts swirling. A long time ago, she had known who she was, what she was meant to do. She’d thought so. 
But after everything she had been through, all the loss, the isolation, and the rediscovery, she wasn’t sure if her center was what it once had been.
“Perhaps I might have, once,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now... Regardless of whether or not I join you, I’d like to think that there is something at the core of why I am still here.”
“In the Workshop?”
“No, I mean… I mean here.”
Jack tilted his head, studying her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Something told her that she finally got through to him, just a little. Elsa felt herself feeling sympathy for him; even after becoming a Guardian, he was still filled with such… 
Fear. 
Doubt. 
He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable. For a brief, startling moment, she wondered what it would be like to stand by his side, to take the Oath together—as allies, as... something more? 
She brushed the thought aside, but the idea lingered, persistent. 
Then, finally, he let out a small, almost reluctant sigh. “It’s not easy, you know. Being a Guardian. Finding your center. It’s... it’s not something you just, like, stumble upon.”
“I understand,” Elsa said, her tone sincere. “But if there’s a chance that this is where I’m meant to be—then I’m willing to take that risk. I’m not interested in taking that away from you. You—you haven’t even seen what I can do yet! We don’t even know how much overlap we’d find in our powers, anyway!”
“You impressed Bunny in Antartica,” he practically accused. “That’s enough to say something, isn’t it?”
Elsa was trying her very best to remain steady and calm. “And what about you? What did it take for you to find your center?”
His eyes snapped back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something raw and unguarded in his gaze. “So they didn’t tell you everything, huh?”
She gaped at him. Honestly! 
Elsa took a deep breath, steadying herself as she met Jack's gaze. "Jack, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not here to steal anything from you—certainly not your place among the Guardians. I haven’t even decided if—I don’t know if—“
“I already know you’re gonna join us,” he said, almost in a whisper, as if admitting something he hadn’t wanted to face.
“Oh?” Elsa raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “And what makes you so sure?”
Jack hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and then, with a passion she hadn’t expected, he replied, “Because there’s nothing better. There’s nothing like it. It’s everything.”
Elsa was stunned by the raw intensity of his words, the conviction in his voice. She could see it in his eyes—this was more than just a responsibility, more than just a role for him. It was his purpose, his identity—his life, or whatever this agelessness was. For a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with something unspoken, a deep understanding that went beyond words.
She felt her heart skip a beat, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within her—curiosity, admiration, and something else, something unfamiliar. Her pulse quickened. 
Jack seemed to realize the weight of his words, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wait. I... I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he said, his voice softer now, more hesitant. “I guess I’ve been... on edge, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
Still shocked by how deeply his declaration affected her, how his passion stirred something within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, Elsa softened at his apology, nodding slightly. “I… understand. And I accept your apology. I appreciate… you saying that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come home and see someone new in the middle of it all.”
Elsa thought she heard him laugh under his breath, mouthing the word Home—
Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Yeah... it is. Anyway.  I’m tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
Elsa watched him start to turn away, a sudden sense of urgency bubbling up inside her. “Jack, wait—”
He paused, glancing back at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. They were so wide, when they weren’t glaring! 
“Shouldn’t we start over?” she asked, her voice gentler, almost tentative in her rush. She extended her hand toward him. “My name is Elsa. I happen to wield ice magic. E. Aster Bunnymund found me on an iceberg a few weeks ago as I was in the middle of creating a particularly notable blizzard, and he invited me to meet his friends, whom he loves and respects very much.”
Jack looked at her hand, then back at her face, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawled over his face. 
“Alright, I’ll bite,” Jack floated closer, and Elsa held steady—stories or no stories, she had not been prepared to see him fly! “I’m Jack. I also happen to ‘wield’ ice and frost magic. Bunny did not find me on an iceberg, but I’m pretty sure he’d love to stick me in one. Nice to meet you, Elsa, who promises not to steal my spot on the A-team. Welcome to the madness,” and he reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake. 
The moment their hands touched, a strange, electric current seemed to pass between them, and Elsa felt her breath hitch in her throat.
Oh—
He’s—he’s rather handsome, she realized with a start.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, the air between them thick with something she could not, would not name. 
Jack was the first to break the silence, his voice a little rougher than before. “Yeah... maybe we should—”
They let go of each other’s hands, but the sensation of his touch lingered, warm and unsettling. Elsa felt a flush creep up her cheeks, unsure of what to make of the emotions swirling inside her.
“Uh—goodnight, Elsa."
“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.
And with that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Elsa standing alone in the soft glow of the snow globe gallery. She watched him go, a mix of hope and uncertainty swirling in her chest. The conversation had been difficult, but it had also been a step forward—a tentative, fragile step toward something more. Right?
As she turned back to her quarters, Elsa found herself tracing the line of his smirk in her mind, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes—after weeks of wondering about what he might look like, might be like, she finally had the vision, the Memory of his face.
She rushed with the ornate door handle of her guest room, eager to be inside her room, alone, in the peace and quiet, and finally process the events of the evening, to reflect on all that she'd learned, she'd accomplished, she'd proved.
Exhausted by the sheer weight of so many careful decisions in so short a time, Elsa closed the door behind her with a deep sigh. Exhausted, yes, but also satisfied. She shut her eyes as she leaned against the back of the door and allowed herself a small, tentatively victorious grin, content in the knowledge that when she drifted off to sleep that night, the echoes of their meeting, their tentative truce would fill her mind; this moment gave her, indeed, a sense of Hope that she hadn’t felt in years...
But, in her mind, the Memory that lingered most vividly, as she tossed and turned—was his face. 
//
ao3 ✨
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ashdreams2023 · 1 year ago
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Hello! Can u do one where Snape and student reader has a platonic bantering relationship? Like Snape favors them a lot and students and teachers clearly notices but Snape and Student likes to go back and forth with petty insults. Kinda like making the other students and professors confused if Snape actually favors them or not. But when someone insults the other they would passionately defend them. Something along the lines of "only I can insult Snape/Student" It can be like Snape is complaining abt Student to McGonagall then suddenly McGonagall agrees and adds her complaints making Severus defend student suddenly. Or when Student is complaining to her friends abt how awful Snape is but when her friends insult him she also defends him. HAHAHAHA i don't know if it makes sense so I understand if u can't make it lol.
Git
Platonic severus snape x reader
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Severus didn’t like when students disrespected him, just because he’s young didn’t mean he wasn’t worthy out it.
That’s one of many reasons he’s so strict, students just learn to stay out of his way like that but then again there we’re always the ones who just didn’t get the hint.
And one of them was you.
Honestly you were bound to be trouble the second you opened your mouth in his classroom, left him gritting his teeth and furiously angry at the house you were from.
You were blunt, annoying and hotheaded.
"But Professor just one last chance! You need too you know this was not my best performance!"
"Sounds like a you problem."
It would be like that then after some more nagging he would give in because you we’re starting to give him a headache and he couldn’t give you detention for asking for help.
At one point he just gave up with your tactics all together and what made it worse was that you kept your promises, you did your work, participated in class, and regardless of the back talk and half assed comments at each other you were not, dare he say…insufferable but just more tolerable than most.
Although minerva likes to say you’re his favorite but he denies it every time, he doesn’t have favorites and he merely tolerates you.
"Severus due give this to young miss [——] when you go to the great hall"
"Do I look like an owl Minerva?" He said irritated.
The older professor gave him a look before he groaned and took the textbook and went on his way to the great hall where students were starting to gather in for lunch.
The great hall was buzzing with chatter, students were too busy to notice him enter and he liked it that way, he looked around then landed his eyes on you sitting on the gryffindor table to his pleasure, chatting with potter and granger.
He approached you slowly but stopped when he heard potter mentioning him.
"I swear I can’t do it anymore! If I get another troll on my next assignment I’m gonna try convincing Dumbledore that it’s not necessary in the curriculum"
"Don’t be dramatic, potions just need some focusing and if you tried not picking fight with snape things would be easier, I know he’s an ass but come on" you replied.
Hermione cleared her throat "it’s Professor Dumbledore Harry and professor snape to you!" She pointed at you but you just shrugged "moral of the story she’s right Harry you just need to focus, try to pay attention in class instead of neglecting your grades just to spite professor snape"
Harry crossed his arms "easy for her to say, she’s his favorite, it’s honestly starting to piss me off! He’s a git who only cares about his own house and I hope he does get that dark arts position at least then he would leave hogwarts one way or another!"
Harry regretted his words the second they left his mouth, the look you gave him was a mix of shock and angry.
"What is wrong with you?! I know he’s a git, he’s unfair and sometimes plain unreasonable when he feels like it but wishing death on him just because you dislike him!"
"[——] calm down Harry didn’t mean it like that!"
"That’s not-"
"That’s exactly what you meant Harry! He’s mean but he’s not a monster" you said all of that while not realizing snape was standing right there, watching and observing the whole thing.
It made his chest a tad tight, he hated the feeling but the look of absolute shame on Harry’s face made him satisfied.
Maybe he does have favorites.
"Snape? What are you doing with my textbook!" You said finally noticing him standing there with you transfigurations textbook. He scoffed and handed you the textbook.
"You brats would lose your head if it they weren’t attached to your body"
You frowned and took your textbook from him.
"I remember important stuff…like washing my hair" you smirked
Snape glared at you, screw what he just thought, you were still annoying.
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theabigailthorn · 2 years ago
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Surely with how popular you are you would have had a few cancelling attempts, but you're drama free. How? I thought you'd be target number 1 with TERFs.
So the thing is, people on the internet have and do try to wreck my life! But it's true that I get less of it than a lot of other women, and I often ask myself (and them) this same question. I think it comes down to a few factors. In no particular order:
I'm white and thin
I don't post selfies very often
The Philosophy Tube Jutsu: I never use my platform to say anything bad about individuals, so I don't make enemies
I'm British
I don't put my pronouns or the word 'trans' in my bio. I mention it if it it's relevant but to a casual troll looking for someone to go after there are more obvious targets
My brand: in terms of online content, my brand is 'Educational and Compassionate.' I try to be even-handed and listen to all sides and never be angry, and people are maybe a bit reluctant to get mad at someone who does that? In terms of acting, my brand right now is 'I'm Trying Hard and I'm On My Way Up!' which I guess people like?
I have a posh accent
I don't make online content about video games
I'm pretty enough that men like looking at me but not so hot it makes them angry
I transitioned in private before I came out publicly. I knew that when I did I'd get a lot of backlash, so I pre-emptively muted LOADS of words in my comments section and wove a kind of digital safety net
I'm so busy that I often miss whatever the discourse du jour is and don't get involved. As a wise woman once said, 'Do Not Tweet.'
I deliberately dress and present myself as 'classy' in public-facing stuff
Most of my content is scripted, so by default it attracts people who like to sit down and listen
Philosophy Tube is literally all about critical thinking and not taking things at face value. So if a typical Philosophy Tube Subscriber sees a post that says 'I saw Abigail Thorn kicking a puppy down the street!' they're more likely to stop and think, 'What's the evidence for this?' This means that when there are hate campaigns and lies spread about me (and there are, from time to time) my core audience sees through it and sticks around
I have very good mods! Big shout out to all the lovely people on r/philosophytube and all the people who moderate my livestream chats!
I have a social media manager who can look out for hate and pre-emptively guard against it
I don't hitch my brand to other people. I sometimes do little collabs or appear at events with other creators but for the most part I fly solo. That means if another creator blows up or posts something awful I minimise my chances of cancellation-by-association. I'm friends with lots of creators but for the most part I keep it behind the scenes (Learned this one the hard way!)
I'm not a sex worker. Those people get hate like you wouldn't believe - the sex workers I know are the toughest folks I've ever met!
I'm not very fun to bully! I do get death threats and hate campaigns and people make fake porn of me and libel me and all that stuff - literally every day - I just never talk about it publicly so trolls don't get the satisfaction of seeing me get upset. I just mute and block and move on silently. When I have to talk to a lawyer or the police about someone causing a problem, I handle it behind the scenes
Platform size. When TERFs in British media go after someone they tend to pick on people smaller than them, cause they're bullies.
I built my platform slowly, so I've had time to adjust and get used to how it impacts my life
People have tried to cancel me in the past and it's blown up in their faces, e.g. the Trump Transition Tweet Incident and the B*ck A*gel Affair.
To be absolutely clear, a LOT of this is luck and privilege. I'm not trying to blame the victims of online harassment: yes, some of these factors are things I choose to do but not everyone is able to make those choices. It's also the unwinnable game of respectability politics: yes I might get less hate because of the way I dress or whatever, but fundamentally that won't protect me if I get arrested and sent to a men's prison. These things aren't a substitute for a more just distribution of power. There's also this final possible factor:
It just hasn't happened yet.
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blasphemousclaw · 1 year ago
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Let’s talk about Mt. Gelmir
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Mt. Gelmir is one of my favorite locations in the game because of its striking environmental storytelling… the minute you start exploring the slopes of the volcano, you can just FEEL that something awful happened here. The imagery is so potent that I wanted to go through every detail of the region and explore how it supports and expands the story we’re told through dialogue and text. Let’s start with the text on the Mt. Gelmir sword monument:
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“The Assault on Volcano Manor
The squalid, the sick, the blasphemous;
A wretched, unending war with no glory”
This dismal description refers to Leyndell’s attack on Praetor Rykard’s forces at Volcano Manor. After the Shattering war broke out, Rykard declared his intention to take up arms against the Erdtree itself: this was not just treason, but blasphemy, marking him as “an enemy, never to be forgiven.” We can conclude that Rykard’s blasphemy was so unacceptable that Leyndell made it a priority to silence him as quickly as possible, sending an army straight to his doorstep. I believe it’s implied that Rykard had the Mt. Gelmir Minor Erdtree burned as his first act of blasphemy; we find the tree destroyed amidst a smoking ruin:
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The assault on Volcano Manor, introduced to us by Gideon Ofnir as “the most appalling battle in the entirety of the Shattering,” was the site of some of the most horrific violence in the entire story. Traveling around Mt. Gelmir, we can observe the gruesome aftermath of the battle and the remnants of the armies continuing to struggle — some scattered groups of Leyndell soldiers remain, while the only troops left to Rykard are his marionettes and iron virgins, since his knights have long since deserted him after his hideous transformation. (Side note: I love the detail that Rykard uses marionettes and avionettes, which were “crafted to serve the sorcerers;” it further cements his identity as a sorcerer and his connection to his Liurnian heritage.) Despite having no real soldiers though, Rykard’s grim constructs seem to tear through the remaining soldiers of Leyndell with ease, which we can observe in real time:
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The death toll of this conflict cannot be overstated — the slopes of Mt. Gelmir are literally piled high with bodies.
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Within a pit of corpses, we can find the spirit of one of Rykard’s men, who says this:
“Lord Rykard… If this putrid field of death is what your blasphemy would bring, then I can no longer abide. No one can.”
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These unspeakable horrors are enough to make Rykard’s followers question if the cost of resistance is too high a price. Leyndell’s armies are just as badly affected — stranded on the mountain with no hope of reinforcements, we can observe several soldiers feasting on the bodies of their fallen comrades:
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These soldiers have long abandoned any hope of achieving glory, and are little more than mindless husks at this point. Furthermore, if we return to the sword monument, something you’ll notice as you make your way over is that there are several Leyndell soldiers who are affected by the frenzied flame. At the same time, the troll soldier guarding the door to the Manor is also affected by the frenzied flame:
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The frenzied flame is affecting soldiers of both sides of the conflict here, which tells me it wasn’t being used as some kind of weapon, but that it took hold independently… I believe that the frenzied flame was embraced by the soldiers here due to the sheer hopelessness of those who have experienced this uniquely horrific battle. The ethos of the Three Fingers is essentially that the world is full of unendurable pain, so it must all be melted away so no one will suffer ever again: “the Greater Will made a mistake. Torment, despair, affliction... every sin, every curse. Every one, born of the mistake. […] Those who gave me grapes howled without words. Saying they wished they were never born. Become their lord. Take their torment, despair. Their affliction. Every sin, every curse. And melt it all away.” (Hyetta)
The soldiers who fought on Mt. Gelmir have experienced untold suffering, the very worst of humanity… it makes perfect sense that such people would be susceptible to the essence of the frenzied flame; to want to burn this tormented world to the ground.
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nekropsii · 5 months ago
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Ok, don't get me wrong, i think your opinions/analysis have arguments, so you have reasons.
But i can't stop thinking, when you talk about fandom not interpreting things correctly, mostly dancestors, it feels like:
Fanon: i love the dancestors! They are all so nice!
You: aCTUALLY, they are all ASSHOLES, except mituna, latula, and porrim. The rest is crap and here is a long and detailed list with why:
And a the end of the list :but this is what makes them great as characters, because they have a narrative function to it!
Yep. And I stand by that. Firmly. What’s the problem here?
The Alpha Trolls - not the Dancestors, that’s literally every character in Homestuck - are largely not good people. Calling them nice is blatantly false and outright disregards almost every single scrap of text we are given. Mituna’s a good dude in a bad situation full of people he doesn’t really like, as is Damara. Latula’s literally never done anything wrong. Porrim’s just a regular person. Aranea’s pretty nice, and her actions during Game Over were a result of eternities of torment and desperation to be seen + heard, and is therefore not fully representative of her. Meenah’s cute, but a major fuckup that has committed some absolutely egregious crimes. That’s it, really.
The Alpha Trolls are Good Characters and (mostly) Bad People.
Are you maybe experiencing some kind of difficulty in understanding that there’s a difference between a character and a person? Because a fuck ton of people in fandom definitely do have that problem, for some reason.
A character is a plot device. It is a tool. Nothing more, nothing less. A person is a person. The difference between a bad person and a bad character is that a bad character isn’t fulfilling the role and function they are supposed to perform, and a bad person is just a shitty guy I do not want to be around. Conflating the two leads to bad analysis, and is also a primary contributor to apologetics, and all those god awful fanonizations that sand down every edge the character has until they’re pleasant people and totally unrecognizable. People think they have to like a character as a human being in order to like them as a character. Which is completely untrue, and is totally naïve to the fact that villains are popular for a reason.
A character can be a bad person and a good character - they fill their role and serve their purpose very well, but would absolutely suck to be around. Meenah, Vriska, Cronus, and Caliborn all fit under that label. This isn’t always a villain role, but it does tend to get taken up by villains. And anti-heroes, of course. Vriska is there, after all
A character can be a good person but a bad character - they’d be pleasant to talk to in real life, but they suck at fulfilling their narrative purpose. Just about every fanon version of a character is this. It’s more of a fanfiction thing than an actual real literature thing.
I am the biggest fan + defender of the Alpha Trolls you can find. The Alpha Trolls largely are not good people, but they serve their function very well. This is not a controversial statement because it is entirely true. Fanon is dogshit and totally wrong, 100% of the time. This is a hill I’m willing to die on because I’m literally just correct. There is not a scrap of text on this planet that you could procure to say Cronus Ampora is a good person - anything you could scrounge up is just baseless fanfiction and total garbage.
I do not see the confusion, nor do I understand the point you’re trying to make. These are facts that can and do coexist, quite regularly. Even within Homestuck. Again, Vriska exists. What now?
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commandershepardvasfuckit · 29 days ago
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An Arranged Marriage, part 19
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18
M!troll x f!reader
1.4 k words
No one enjoys a hangover, but especially when it’s combined with messy feelings.
(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)
————
“My head” Zen whined at you and attempted to bury his face into your hair.
You reached up to pat his head, “You had quite a night”.
“I feel awful, this is why I do not drink”.
“Yeah, I didn’t think you were that drunk until you stood up and tried to get into bed last night, the wine must have hit you all at once when you stood up”.
“I feel like I got hit over the head”.
You rolled over to face him, grimacing at the way your back stuck to him for a moment and the crusty feeling on your skin. “Besides waking up hung over, did you enjoy it?” you asked.
“What? Hearing how incredible you sounded? Looking up and seeing your beautiful face all flushed? Tasting and smelling you? Feeling your thighs against my face and how you came on my tongue? I enjoyed you very much”.
You face was red hot and you buried it into his chest, this time not minding the cum still there.
“Are you embarrassed?” his words were soft in your ear, “Because you should not be. I could have spent all night kneeling before you and worshipping you”.
“You’re still drunk” you muttered.
“No, not any more. I simply want my wife to know how desirable I find her”.
You stayed quiet, not really sure how to respond. Not being used to Zen, or anyone else for that matter, ever being that intense.
“I am sorry” he apologized, sensing your discomfort, “I thought- never mind”. His voice fell and you felt his grip on you tighten a bit before he withdrew from you.
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure how to proceed but Zen was no longer purring.
“How about I get you something for your head?” you offered, trying to break the uncomfortable mood that had settled in.
“You do not have to” he responded.
“Your head hurts, right? So let me help you”.
“Thank you”.
You got up and for the first time that week his touch did not linger on you. He had never tired to keep you from getting up, but normally he would keep his hands on you as long as possibly until he could no longer reach you as you got up. His sudden disinterest stung.
Trying to ignore it you busied yourself with the same medicine Zen made up for you when you did not feel well, mixing the powder with cool water and trying to stir all the lumps out. You also took a moment to light the hearth and start heating water for tea.
His back was to you when you brought him over the medicine so you gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention. He rolled over, sat up and accepted the medicine with a quick “thank you”.
You leaned in to kiss his forehead as you had gotten into the habit over the past week. Usually Zen met you half way, nuzzling against your kiss so you each could expression affection in the way that felt natural to you. This time he remained still.
As you pulled away you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. You had wanted to just calmly ask what was wrong, what you might have done or said to cause such a sudden shift, but quickly emotion overwhelmed you instead.
Before you could register what happened he had pulled you down onto the bed next to him, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Hey, what is wrong?” he sounded panicked.
You sniffled, gulping down air and unable to get words out you just wailed into his chest.
“It is ok, I have you” and you felt his tusk bump against your face in his clumsy and panicked attempt to nuzzle you.
“Are you mad at me?” you finally managed to get out.
“Mad? Of course not”.
“Then why did you get so cold all of a sudden?”
“I believe I misread the situation and it hurt a little, that is all. But I did not mean to upset you”.
“Of course I’m upset, you suddenly wanted nothing to do with me” you sniffled.
“I just- yesterday, yesterday was nice, and I do not mean just the physical part. I do not think we had ever just sat and talked like that before, like how we just laid in bed drinking together. It felt nice. It felt close.
“And I do not know how you see me, but I think I might have misread things this morning.
“I do not think you look at me the same way I look at you, and that is alright. I will never ask for more than you are willing to give, it just did not feel good to realize it”.
Your heart sank. You were not entirely sure what you did to make him think that, but he sounded so crushed, and he was still the one comforting you instead.
“I’m sorry” you instinctively nuzzled against his chest, it was amazing how fast it had just became habit to do so.
“It is ok if you do not feel the same. I will meet you where you are at” he assured you.
You wrapped your arms around his middle, practically pulling yourself into his lap, “How do you feel then?”
“I have felt happy. It has been nice to wake up and not be alone, to come home to someone. And over the last week it has been nice to just be close, and I thought it was what you wanted too last night, but I see I am mistaken”.
“Is it because I turned you down last night?”
“What? No!” he seemed offended, “I have some gaps in my memory, so I do not remember that, and I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I am not upset if you did not want to sleep with me”.
“What is it that you wanted then?”
“This morning I wanted to lay with you and tell you how much I enjoy having you in my life in any capacity, and I started to tell you and you just froze. You stop talking or reacting and seemed so uncomfortable, so I stopped”.
“And shut me out”.
“Yes, I am allowed to be hurt or disappointed, I thought my wife may actually want a relationship that was more than just in name, so when you stopped responding when I starting telling you that it did not exactly feel good”.
“I didn’t realize that’s what you meant” you said softly.
“What did you think I meant?”
“I don’t know! You were talking about last night and I just assumed you meant like a physical desire, and it was just sort of intense how you were talking. I didn’t know how to respond”.
“Then why did you not say something then?”
“I don’t know, it was just a lot. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I was worried! And hurt! I felt so rejected” he sounded so broken, “I was trying to be romantic and tell you how I felt because I’ll thought you felt the same way”.
“Since when?”
“Since when what?”
“Since when did you feel like that?”
“The bandit camp, when I accepted Tsov’ka gift without a second thought. Because the fear of someone harming you, or losing you, scared me enough to not even think about the repercussions. I realized that I truly wanted you in my life as a constant presence, romantic or not, and then when you wanted to stay here and started being affectionate I got my hopes up that maybe you might want to have an actual relationship too”.
“I do”.
“What?”
“I do want to get to know you, and actually have a relationship, I thought we were already doing that”.
You felt his arms tighten around you and finally heard him purring again.
“I am looking forward to courting my wife then” he said.
“I think we’re doing it out of order then”.
“I do not care. I am going to court my wife and get to know you because we did not get to choose each other before, but I want to choose you now, and I hope you choose me too if given the chance”.
You kissed his chest and nuzzled him, “I’d like that. Now take the medicine and I’m going to see if there’s any water left if the kettle for tea or if it all boiled away”.
“I am never drinking again”.
“Do you want to hear everything you did and said drunk?”
“Oh spirits”.
————
Part 20
Tag list
@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23
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incorrect-trolls-imagines · 11 months ago
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Hi! How was your day? Good,i hope?
Anyways,I found your account recently and I really liked your partner squad AU! It's so wholesome and funny 😭 And I love Polyamorous relationships (i guess that's what it is?)
Here's a little headcanon (?) request for them,because I read the 'loosing colors' HC and I think that was just my favorite thing out of the partner squad thingies-
Honestly,I just want some hurt/comfort. I like crying (/j)
I give total freedom to you about what angst it is,but if you want,or are out of ideas,here are some:
-Reader comes back home after being harassed (not s3xually,maybe just about the way they act? Maybe they just stick out a lot and some people don't like it??? Some people are bullies man..)
-Overworked reader (Maybe breaking down??)
-Socially anxious reader?
-the reader fainting suddenly??
Something like that! Anyways,I hope this isn't too vague of a description,and that you have a fantastic day!!
-Nina/Weewoo
HII HELLO!!! THANKS FOR THE REQUEST AND I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A NICE DAY TOO!!! AND I'M GONNA DO ALL OF THEM IDEAS YOU SENT CUZ I'M A SUCKERRRR FOR ✨A N G S T✨
okey dokey folks! we've gots some ✨A N G S T✨ to go through so it's-a time to get-a cooking!
Here's the Loosing Colors post btw and I'm gonna use that one just for this first scenario (omg. a sequel, yes!)
💙♥️🖤Partner Squad Reacting to Gray!Reader getting harassed💙♥️🖤
💞 As a whole 💞
💞 Oh, they pissed. As soon as they find out that you've been having trouble with some inconsiderate trolls being nasty to you for having lost your colors, you can bet they're practically up in arms and very eager to have a talk with those bullies.
💞 (You're mortified and somehow manage to convince them to Not Do Anything To Harsh for your sake, though.)
💞 Lots of reassurance!
💞 Your partners won't allow you to sulk or dwell too much in the whole ordeal and they'll make a combined effort to always lift your spirits up whenever you start to believe the rude and flat out unnecessary things the bullies said to you.
♥️ Barb ♥️
♥️ She's easily the most outraged out of the lot. She hates bullies (kinda ironic, yeah, but you get the idea.).
♥️ Particularly, she hates bullies that joke and tease about such sensitive topics as losing your colors. Because, c'mon, that's just straight up professional huge a-hole behavior.
♥️ Whenever she wants to help you feel more comfortable with your situation, she'll take your hands in hers and raise them to your eye level, as if wanting you to take a good look of your laced fingers.
♥️ “Y’see? I'm sorta gray too, if you think about it. But I think you rock those grays way better than me, babe.” (She's intentionally corny to get a smile out of you and it works every time.)
♥️ She tries to get back at the bullies, but she's always too obvious and you never let her have the payback she's so adamant you deserve.
🩵 Branch 🩵
🩵 He can relate.
🩵 Oh, he can relate a lot. He grew up gray and, man, can trolls be cruel even if they seem to be all sunshine and rainbows. Not to say ‘he’s had it worse’ when he was younger, no, he's not the type to downplay a situation like this, ever, but he's definitely the best candidate to help you go through this ordeal because of his past.
🩵 Lot's of open-heart talks, venting, hugs and, yes, lots of tears from both sides as well (just don't go around telling everyone, please).
🩵 He's still devastated that something as awful as losing one's colors could ever happen to you but he can't mope about it forever (never in front of you, at least); he remains strong for your sake.
🩵 He also tries to ‘avenge’ you in whatever way he can, almost begging you to let him at least do something to deal with the ones that bothered you, anything, but you never give in and eventually he gives up (very reluctantly).
🧡 Hickory 🧡
🧡 Now, Hickory over here, he's actually the only one that manages to evade your suspicions and he flat out threatens the trolls that harassed you to buck off (in an eerily peaceful and very cowboy-ish manner, might I add).
🧡 After that, you don't ever get bothered again and Hickory lets you believe that those trolls simply had a change of heart.
🧡 His way of helping you go through this hardship is not by ignoring the issue, but he just rather not mention the obvious unless it's absolutely necessary.
🧡 It's not like he's in love with you for your colors or whatever, but he does care deeply for your mood and feelings. He just wants you to be happy, y'know?
🧡 When the time comes that your colors gradually start to show up again, he just smiles and he'll go out of his way to always remind you of how beautiful those shades and tones look on you even if they're still a bit dim.
🩷 Poppy 🩷
🩷 She's frustrated, very, very much so. Why and how can other trolls be so mean and nasty???? Like Why?
🩷 After finding out about the way you were harassed, she gets clingy. She gets clingy because now she doesn't want to leave you all on your own, exposed to more mistreatment.
🩷 Just like Branch, she's familiar with the subject of color loss and she doesn't take it lightly for a second.
🩷 You could even say it's a bit of some sort of guilt she feels about the way Branch used to be treated in the past that she's now worried 24/7 about you.
🩷 She refuses to allow anyone even think about ostracizing you; she'll go feral if she ever catches someone even batting an eye at your lack of vibrant colors, let alone comment anything on the matter in a negative way.
💚 Tresillo 💚
💚 He's still not entirely used to seeing you without those lovely colors of yours and he's not shy to admit out loud that he misses them.
💚 But he doesn't do that to make you feel bad, or inadequate or guilty on any level; he's just honest like that, and he hopes for the day that your beautiful colors return.
💚 Then, and only then, he'll know you're really and truly okay. And if you're happy, he's happy.
💚 Like Poppy, he gets overprotective and almost overbearing just so he can keep an eye over you so no one else dares bother you in the slightest about your color loss.
💚 He won't threaten anyone like Hickory did, but he will glare and give the worst of stink eyes at whoever steps out of line in his presence, and man, he can look kinda scary when he's serious like that.
💙 Trollex 💙
💙 Like mentioned before, Trollex once lost his colors too after the passing of his parents, but that particular experience he has on the subject is what gives him the reassurance he needs that you can get better, just like he did and just like Branch did as well.
💙 The thought of someone bullying you for your situation makes his blood boil but he's more concerned on how you feel and what you think.
💙 Forget those bullies, they don't matter now. Now it's all about you and how you feel and what you need.
💙 He becomes a bit of a mother hen, always asking about your mood and hoping that one of these days, your bright colors will shine bright once again.
💙 He's a great listener, so if you need a shoulder to cry on or just vent, he'll always be there, ready to give you advice and make sure you always leave with a huge smile on your face.
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