#amari would definitely survive that

[gojo-stan]

Out for a stroll!🧋✨

[13leaguestories]

This came randomly to me after I understood all the characters and their personalities and stuff, buuutttt, how would they react if they went through the dream Roe had at the beginning of S1? The one they told the therapist? And how would they look or respond to Roe after being told that’s what happened to them?

I’m mostly curious about the main crew like Chris, Sydero, Bradley, Rahim etc.

(Absolutely loving superstition and your writing and I’m sitting here waiting for the rewrite like a child waiting to play games with their parent)

It's chugging along, Anon. Hopefully I can share more soon.

So, Chris actually knows about the dream. As he obviously knows why Roe is going to therapy. So canon is Chris does just think it's a dream and agrees with the therapist where they always say it was just a way to explain the trauma in a more child-like manner.

Going through it, Chris wouldn't have told anybody. He'd be traumatized to hell and back but he would have kept it all to himself and tried to rationalize it away.

I'm trying to remember if Sydero knows but I think she knows the gist but not all of it. Either way, she'd probably be able to understand Roe the best since going through her own childhood trauma in Hell with "The Box." Going through it I think she'd come out like how she came out of her own ordeal, traumatized and that trauma is absorbed into her personality.

Not doing Zillah cos he knows what happened and it's kind of hard to transfer someone who knows what happened to a T into something.

Interesting enough, Rahim didn't go through childhood trauma, not in the same way as Syd and Roe so I do think if he did go through Roe's dream then he'd be different but my gosh I can't even imagine how. As he is very much a momma's boy so what would her death + the horror of it do to him. Like, would he be more Sydero coded??

If Roe told him I think he'd try and give them some bullshit excuse or some sentiment that means nothing, mostly because of the angel's hand in everything. He's not good when it hits too close too home.

Amari is a good one because she would 100% be horrified if Roe told her and she would just be speechless. I think she would be horrified of shades after that and she would definitely start asking the important questions like "do all the reaper hybrid kids go through that" and "what would have happened if it worked out like it was supposed too."

She wouldn't survive it I think. I think if Amari lost her mother the same way as Roe, she would not be anything like she is now. She would be so much more of a shell, no bubbly personality or positive outlook.

Chanara doesn't know, doesn't even have an idea of what happens for the reaper hybrids. She knows they exist and Death needs them but that's about it. So, I do think if Chanara knew she would start questioning leadership. She's a good soldier but she's not great at hiding her thoughts when she doesn't agree with something, which is why she mostly tries to mind her own business.

If she went through it I think it would be similar to Roe but mix a bit of Winchester spirit in there. Chanara wouldn't have just chalked it up to a dream and would have doubted the "true story" until she learned of the supernatural and went on a revenge journey.

And lastly, Bradley would probably be like "damn, you too." I might even try to incorporate Roe telling him because I think that at the very least the OG crew (Syd, Chris, and Bradley) should know about it. If Bradley went through it then just add shades too the list of the beings he detests. If Bradley was Roe, Zillah wouldn't have made it because Bradley would have done everything he could too flip the tables and make Zillah pay and wipe him off the face of the planet.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 10/8/2024

The Boy is out of my house. end of an era. formally adopt the boy for only twenty of god's own dollars here!

listening

i really really love reading perfume reviews and i would love to start describing songs like a perfume reviewer but maybe this song is not a great one to start out with: the ghost inside by broken bells, off their 2010 self-titled album. it got stuck in my head bc it is sort of the ur-example of 2010s indie rock. you have to listen to it but after you listen to it you know i am Right. kind of a bonkers scifi music video with mostly practical effects and actress christina hendricks (interview here).

thank u spotify weekly recommended playlist bc i had completely forgotten about broken bells. i think i found them through one of those little music cards starbucks used to give out?

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reading

The Blood Trials (Book One of the Blood Gift Duology, Jan 2023) by N.E. Davenport. i KNOW i originally put this on my holds list bc of a tumblr post but i cannot find that post again.

explaining the plot of this book to my best friend involved saying the phrase "and then THE BLOOD EMPEROR" a lot. there is no short way to explain the plot of this thing.

Blending fantasy and science fiction, N. E. Davenport’s fast-paced, action-packed debut kicks off a duology of loyalty and rebellion, in which a young Black woman must survive deadly trials in a racist and misogynistic society to become an elite warrior. It’s all about blood. The blood spilled between the Republic of Mareen and the armies of the Blood Emperor long ago. The blood gifts of Mareen’s deadliest enemies. The blood that runs through the elite War Houses of Mareen, the rulers of the Tribunal dedicated to keeping the republic alive. The blood of the former Legatus, Verne Amari, murdered. For his granddaughter, Ikenna, the only thing steady in her life was the man who had saved Mareen. The man who had trained her in secret, not just in martial skills, but in harnessing the blood gift that coursed through her. Who trained her to keep that a secret.

this is a "graduate or die" book that i would normally say is YA but the protagonist Ikenna is ~20ish and there are two quite explicit sex scenes. so i feel it veers more new adult? what if you learned to be an ancient greek spartan praetorian but also had blasters? that's what this school is.

this is a military scifi that is also a murder mystery (HELL of a dense concept to pick for a debut novel) that gets SO yuckydisgusting with loving descriptions of military training wounds and a cannibalism scene (not by our protagonist) i had to skip over. i think this would be terrific for locked tomb girlies but it is at the bleeding edge of my tolerance level. i am a noted big baby about gore, so ymmv.

tumblr user kay, why the fuck did you keep reading it? one of the best technically written debut novels i've ever read. extremely compelling in how the narration is from Ikenna’s point of view and she has almost all the murder mystery pieces but fails to put them together bc of personal flaws and foibles. and she is so good at tripping face first over those flaws and foibles it really effectively distracts you from the pieces of the murder mystery! she’s so so so good at making the worst possible decision (in hindsight) at any given point. all her decisions have complex hidden downsides but at the same time she could not have made any different decision. failsafes her grandfather put in place fail bc of the way she interprets them. she is a very good soldier but less good as a strategist. terrible as a politician. this sort of thing.

she is quick to act and quick to decide, and allies and enemies flip fairly quickly without much hemming and hawing. once she has definite proof of betrayal or alliance, she accepts it and charges on. i think the occasionally flimsy lead up to these flips is one of the book’s weaknesses, but i also think it’s one of Ikenna’s major weaknesses. im not convinced the author handles doling every clue out or how the very complex political situation clicks together Well, but Ikenna’s reaction and dealing with the fallout of these things is very believable and well done.

VERY rapid pace— reminds me of The Hunger Games, where Suzanne Collins’ background in TV helped her know when to break chapters. there aren’t any lulls where I lost interest— i read this book in basically one sitting overnight.

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watching

meandering through a playlist of oscar-nominated shorts: the 1951 UPA black comedy musical film noir short "Rooty Toot Toot" has been one of my favorites so far.

it's so hyperstylized and so gleefully minimalist. the background characters, even though they are mostly just blobs and circles, are notably diverse for 1951. let's yoink some more background from the description/TCM:

Hubley brought in a number of interesting collaborators on Rooty Toot Toot. Dancer Olga Lunick was hired to choreograph the ballet-style dance moves. There was no rotoscoping involved; her moves were only referenced by the artists and animators, not slavishly traced. Paul Julian designed the backgrounds and utilized some non-typical techniques; in his essential history of UPA, When Magoo Flew: The Rise and Fall of Animation Studio UPA (Wesleyan, 2012), Adam Abraham quotes Julian on one of them: "'I found a kind of oddly corroded gelatin roller - an ordinary print roller that had been pitted and pocked in some way, chemically.' With this device, he produced distressed-looking backgrounds that suited the sordid tale." In addition, Hubley and the studio brought on jazz musician Phil Moore to write the score. Moore had done orchestrations for many MGM musicals in the 1940s, but uncredited--this would be a rare on-screen credit for the black musician. Legendary animator Grim Natwick also joined the crew. Natwick had been active since the silent era and had designed and animated Betty Boop for the Fleischer Studios. He went on to work on such key films as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and Gulliver's Travels (1939). For Rooty Toot Toot Natwick animated the memorable shots of Nellie Bly on the witness stand.

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playing

i don't have anything fun to say about genshin this week. prepare for me to lose my mind next week about hot ocelot lady.

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making

sanitized/enzymatic cleaned everything orange boy touched in my office and the office bath, bc he was so full of love and also worms and boysmell. i believe the stink has been defeated, but only time and the girls will tell me. unforch, i will have to sanitize and destink the bathroom Again at the end of the month bc a new outside boycat will be recovering here after his neuter. this time i am Not paying for it and he already has a home lined up! it is a complicated case with a friend's exit from a Situation and it is not fully mine to tell. can't believe this office and office bath have been like a revolving door of cats this summer/fall. phil only got fulltime house privileges at the end of june-ish.

[talesfromtheunknowable]

hey! question: how did Anuli come to be?

HIi! Thank you so much for the question.

ANnnnddd... whoooo boi, this is a long and convoluted history of the 'many drafts of the land of the fallen fairies'.

Grab some popcorn, there will be plot twists.

First came up with the 'Land of the Fallen Fairies' idea when I was around... ten-ish. I saw this book called 'the land of forgotten girls,' (just the cover, never read it) and I had watched the movie 'Fern Gully' in school, and had also learned of trees being able to communicate with each other from magic school bus. And thus, ten-year-old me decided to write a story about it, in the way you might imagine a ten-year-old writing a story.

Very overdramatic. No plot.

Basically it was about 'the last tree on the planet' and its fairy. They both lived next to a factory and no one on the plantet knew of thier existence. (Wow, spooky.)

The fairy (faer name was 'Oak'... which was very creative of me.) got stolen by some humans, who were children, but one of them worked for a scientist for some reason? They kept Oak in a jar where fae met the other fairy named Meadow (who was 'Oak's... mother? Or smth.). Oak eventually broke out and went to this 'hidden land' in the Bermuda triangle for reasons. (wow, spooky)

And I stopped at around there because I wasn't feeling nice while writing it anymore.

There are definitely iterations that I don't remember anymore, this is a seven-ish-year long project at this point after all, but here are the major ones.

The Floa and Naegi backstory.

I made these two dolls (that I don't have anymore). Floa was a redwood and Naegi was an evergreen. It was pretty much an 'enemies to best friends/platonic lovers / opposite attracts' sort of thing taking place in that Bermuda triangle island. They both watched the sunset together so yea.

Bloom

Insert the lychee tree that lives in a cave and made a bunch of doohickeys to survive and killed off faer younger 'siblings' accidently with... fire magic? At one point Bloom was a lychee tree and the whole 'fire magic' thing came from Mediterranean cypress's being immune to fire. I also made a doll for this one that started off as this tall and lanky and kind of scary crow-looking thing with long arms and burnt hands. Then it changed to a small deer thing, (Mediterranean cypresses are immune to deer too.) and it's legs kept breaking off.

The black fairy and Squioo

Another scrapped duo! The black fairy is based off the pando tree (and the only one so far that uses he/him pronouns) and the Pando tree is one large tree that looks like a lot of little ones in a huge forest. (It's a real thing! You can look it up.) And I think I had this whole thing where Squioo is another mediterranean cypress and fae died or something? I think at this point the land of the fallen fairies was more of a 'protective group' and fallen fairies were fairies that lost their tree, so they were almost 'apathetic zombies that could be dangerous if provoked'.

the houseplant

This is the iteration where it starts getting to where tLotFF starts looking how it does now. The scale isn't 'across the world' anymore and there is more of a focus on themes and always a protective guardian.

Although for this one the mc was called 'Amaris' and they started off in a houseplant store where everyone else shared memories. There wasn't really anything wrong with this one, I just didn't enjoy writing it.

Guardian territory

This is the previous version, and is also where you get Anuli. I just wanted something that would be easy for me to write, so I had Anuli use story metaphors for everything and be very contemplative, to the point of not knowing what is going on around faer. Fae isn't... 100% Anuli yet, but fae has the bones. In this version, it starts off with Kamari, Anuli and the sibling Maidoe (who got scrapped because fae had no purpose but may come up again later) leaving the 'bad place' to go to the guardian territory. I rewrote that version so many times and got super stressed out every time I wrote it because it had to be PERFECT.

The 'snippet version'

I changed my writing process to be what works for me and started from scratch, and so, after all that, we get to your question.

I wanted to write something that felt nice, that felt like my truth, especially since my life started feeling... monochromatic, and if I had to live for one thing and one thing only, that that thing better make me feel better.

(I just needed an outlet otherwise I would explode.)

And I always loved those 'metaphorical journeys with a very obvious message but it is told in a whimsical way' sort of stories, and I also wanted to tell my younger self to stop driving themself crazy looking for answers on how to make themselves 'better' in order to regain their lost childhood wonder, because 'better' was burning them out.

Also this video -

I wanted so hard to find that thing called 'happiness', to find that happy ending that I didn't let my story play out.

Anywho, I mention this because the writing process I follow is very 'theme based' and I wanted for my story to explore a theme more than anything else. (Think 'Little Prince' vibes mixed with a slice-of-life-children's show so I could be as dark as I wanted to).

Some of my earliest (for this version) planning pages! (I modified the 'Story Genuis' method to work better with my iterative, and impulsive self. Nowadays I write a 'scene' by exploring a sub-concept of my overall point, and writing out all the thoughts surrounding it, in five different pages at once.)

I needed Anuli to represent all of the aspects of myself that were 'too slow for society' and molded them around a bit to fit who Anuli wanted to be (fae wasn't as overdramatic and silly and metaphorical before.)

And as if this post wasn't long enough already, here are some extra things about where Anuli's traits come from <3

Anuli likes morbid stories because my parents didn't like how 'dark' my stories were, and where thinking of something happier and more 'inspirational for kids, new york times best seller', whereas I just wanted to explore this weird thing called existence. I didn't even think that version was so dark.

So I let Anuli tell the darkest possible things that fae can.

---

The Land of the Fallen Fairies slowly changed moreso to a more 'pixie-based-concept' on who is and isn't 'good enough to be part of society' rather than a 'zombie fairy'. I don't fully know what the criteria is for a fairy to be a fallen fairy, for now it's just 'can't keep up with regular society'.

----

Part of the reason Anuli's POV 'style' is the way it is, is because I wanted something that would be easier for me to write. There's very little scene description or character actions, 90% of it is thoughts and metaphors, and it's nice that the 'shortcut' that I put for myself so I could actually write something also works for the character I am writing.

---

For both Anuli and Kamari, both their names come from the origin of the tree. Anuli, the fiddle leaf fig, originates from Africa, and faer name means 'joy'

Kamari, who comes from... northern Africa and surrounding areas if I remember correctly, means 'moon'.

----

The land of the fallen fairies takes place in my backyard. So I don't really want to move (again... apparently the moving unspoken feelings I didn't know I had got expressed though the LotFF) because all the characters are outside. We got a magnolia, and I have a fiddle leaf inside my house for Anuli.

---

I knew I didn't want to have Anuli describe any feeling, not even tired-ness with a word. Fae has an internal world filled with sensations and emotions fae does not understand and uses faer stories to create faer own 'shorthand' for how to describe them. I really really like this aspect of faer, because it makes communication that much harder for faer, but that much easier (hopefully, I've been told that no one understands what I write.) to understand what fae is thinking. Fae has built up quite the shorthand over the course of the backstory, none of faer thoughts are understandable without context.

----

Anuli ended up liking sunflowers completely on accident. I needed to have something for Kamari to notice and prompt Anuli to tell stories about, and there was a small sunflower patch near the magnolia.

---

Character design is a whole other thing. Before I made the doll, I drew a bunch of sketches based off all the character design videos I could find.

(The ones with the horns were designs for the 'Amaris' previous iteration.)

Oh wait! I remember this iteration. Anuli read the memories of dead pollywiggins for some reason before everyone else told faer that was bad and creepy.

These are some of my favorite Anuli drawings. I made a sticker out of the 'Responsibility' one.

Anuli had a hoodie for some reason, I don't think most fairies wear clothes other than for accessorizing or practical purposes. I may have Anuli wear a cloak when fae comes out of the archives because the weather is changing to fall now and @imjusthereforeternity happens in real time, and Anuil is not meant for cold weather.

getting closer.

Last sketch is from @mylee-sketches for Maidoe. This was around - I think - the time I started making Anuli the doll, which was impulsive as I did not have some of the materials I wanted (it worked out in the end) and I did not plan out sizes.

Anuli the doll took three long months and fae is MASSIVE. (I ran out of the color for faer face and had to improvise with other colors to make faer body match). Fae is around the size of a newborn/1year old CHILD. I can hold faer while I'm writing stuff and fae can stand in my lap and be up to my chin in height. The biggest thing I will ever make and I do not think I'll be doing something of that caliber again for AWHILE at least.

I got a desk recently and fae stands on that now.

Fae also sits nicely on a bookshelf.

... I think that's it. As far as progression from idea to now over the past seven-ish years, this is about everything.

Thank you so much for the ask! And for reading this LONG post!

[samieree]

Goddess of Muspelheim || GOW Ragnarök

Heimdall x OC

-> Chapter 2

*Chapter 3 || Baldur*

There was no denying that they didn't get along very well, but they were doomed to each other's presence. Well, at least in theory, because Heimdall seemed to have made plans to stay away from Amaris for as long as possible.

That day, he said it was a great time to visit his pet. He seemed much nicer to him than to people...

"Gulltoppr...! Who loves me very much? Yes, you love me very much!" she stopped when she saw him walk over to him and pat the animal on the side.

"You prefer... Animals?" she asked uncertainly, not knowing what to do with herself. She was about to ask if they needed a moment alone, but she didn't only because that's what he probably wanted - to get rid of her.

"What's up with that empty head, kid?" She said nothing as he turned to her.

Because what was she supposed to say? She didn't feel confident enough to question his... Likes? Taste? Besides, he'll probably figure out what she meant anyway, and...

"Okay, now you made me laugh!" Of course he started laughing at her right after he read her mind or guessed what she was talking about. "And when they said that children are extremely creative, I didn't believe them!" He shook his head, still laughing. "But I'll satisfy your curiosity so you don't accidentally imagine some dirty things in your limited mind. Animals are so much better than humans: They don't lie, they don't cheat, they are always straightforward in their actions." and they are easily controlled... "Yes, that too."

"Is there any moment when you don't read my mind?"

"When you're silent, but not long enough to concentrate on some complicated scenario in your head, sunshine. Any other maybe smart questions?" He clasped his hands in front of him, leaning in slightly and smiling too sweetly.

"I want a ride!" A grimace appeared on his face, which appeared so often in her presence. He pursed his lips a little and closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed heavily and looked up at the sky.

One of them won't survive her time in Asgard, and he wasn't going to be the one to say goodbye to life. One fine day, he'll get over his nerves and gag her, tie her to a pole, and finally rest in peace.

Animals are definitely better than humans or gods. First of all, they aren't complicated. True, they can have character, but they don't annoy that much.

Heimdall didn't like Amaris, she was... Well, mostly too positive and lively. For a while, he considered having some races to get her to run around in a field and leave him alone for a while.

But basically, he really had nothing against her. She even amused him at times how she would start arguing with him, and then when she couldn't come up with a good answer, she would get offended. She always seemed to have clear intentions, but what else could he expect from a fourteen-year-old?

Only when she grows up he'll find out how she really is and form a complete opinion about her.

"Or would you rather spend time with my dear little brother Baldur, hm? He will definitely find himself in babysitting." he offered, resenting the fact that Amaris began petting his animal.

"You said you love taking care of children. And Gulltoppr likes me." she replied with a shrug. "You could give me a tour around Asgard, you're not doing anything anyway."

Please, someone give me patience. A lot of patience.

"You didn't think there was a reason for that? Maybe...”

"Are you old and tired of a boring life?" She cut him off, turning to face him again. Seeing how he was probably counting to ten in his head again so he won't hurt her, she smiled sweetly. "Please, take me on a trip! If you're so smart, show off your knowledge!"

"I can already see your interest in the history of Asgardian architecture, for example." He replied skeptically, eyeing her carefully.

"If you tell me something interesting, maybe I'll tell you something too, about my realm."

"What new can you tell me, child?" He still had the same expression. Why did she care so much? Did she really just want to spend time on productive things with him somehow? It's hard for him to believe...

"I'm sure there will be something..." She lowered her gaze only realizing that it might be hard for her to surprise him with anything. Then she came up with another idea, something she was sure he'll like. "Or... I will be quiet for the rest of the day?"

"Really?"

"Aside from the fact that if I want to learn something, you should appreciate it. Especially since I want to learn it from you." she pointed out, lifting her head to meet his penetrating gaze.

He stared at her for a long time, considering all the possibilities in his mind. He didn't like being a teacher, and personally felt he wasn't very good at it. Anyway, just like at babysitting.

Finally, he sighed heavily and spoke up, presenting his proposal.

"We'll do this... We'll go for a ride and maybe I'll tell you something interesting, but since I have something to do afterwards, I'll leave you with my brother for a while, hm? Won't you cry, sunshine? May be?"

"Yes!" She tried to come closer and hug him in her excitement, but Heimdall quickly took a step back. "No touching, yeah... 'I'm not a cuddly'" she said, trying to imitate his voice as she walked away towards Gulltoppr. She didn't notice it, but those words made Heimdall smile, barely noticeable, but still.

Let it be, make her a day of kindness to animals, let her remember at least one day, however well. Even so, that morning, for fun, when she wasn't looking, he moved her cup on the table so that, turning around, she nudged it with her elbow and splashed herself.

So... Let's say it's compensation for a shirt and pants that had to be washed.

By the way, it was even quite nice to see that someone was happy because of him. He was used to rather hateful looks, so something like this was... An interesting change.

But he won't make much effort to make people rejoice over him. Not when they don't deserve it with their fakeness.

With a typical sigh, he helped her into the saddle, and soon after mounted the Gulltoppr himself, sitting behind her and grabbing the reins.

"Why am I sitting in the front?"

"First: I don't want to pick you up off the ground if you fall. And two: I don't want you touching me when you're in the back seat. Now stop complaining or I'm about to change my mind." She said nothing more, determined to enjoy the ride she had persuaded him to take.

* * *

As Heimdall mentioned earlier, he had to leave Amaris with his brother, Baldur, and go do something for the All-father.

Surprisingly, his brother had no problem with it, claiming that he would be happy to take care of the fourteen-year-old girl.

And it was like that...

When Heimdall returned, he found a sight that surprised even him. The teenager sat on Baldur's shoulders, using her fiery powers to roast the chicken that his brother held in his hands.

It was unprecedented, but he was literally at a loss for words. He stood there and stared at the whole scene, unable to process what was happening before his eyes.

"Something wrong, brother?" Baldur asked, turning with Amaris still perched on his shoulders. Since he felt no pain, he wasn't afraid to hold the chicken in his hands when the girl finished grilling it.

"No, I see you're getting along great." he replied, still confused. He'd expected a lot, even to find her gagged because Baldur couldn't take her talking, but...

That they get along? Seriously? He was surprised like never before.

"Jealous?" Baldur spoke again, a slight smile on his face.

"Never." Heimdall muttered in his usual tone of voice and started to walk away. Looks like he's off from being a babysitter for a while...

"But wait, we can share the chicken with you!"

"There's no need to! You don't have to give the brat back to me either, as long as she's in one piece and gone to bed by the ten o'clock!" he replied to his brother without even stopping. He just waved his hand and went in the direction only known to him.

He had to digest what he had just seen. Definitely.

"But ten in the morning or in the evening?" Baldur asked again, but got no answer, so he just shrugged. "What's the point of it anyway, right?"

For him, taking care of Amaris for the last few hours was even... Funny. Especially considering the powers the girl wields.

Perhaps he was already so desperately thirsty to feel anything that he pinned his hopes on this special fire?

"Mr. Grumbler will come himself if there's a problem." She replied with a shrug. In fact, she was even glad that Baldur would be taking care of her for a while longer today.

"I heard it!" Suddenly, they heard Heimdall's voice, which obviously hadn't gone that far...

~Author’s note~

Another chapter from the past 😄 Is Baldur right, his brother is... Jealous? 🤔 Maybe he's starting to like being a babysitter...?

-> Next chapter -> general masterlist -> God of War: Ragnarök masterlist

[twotangledsisters]

What do you think were some of the hardest choices to make when writing Two Tangled Sisters (or anything you want to talk about), and which ones just sort of came naturally? Anything that surprised you yourself? Anything you wish you could go back and change? What are you proudest of?

Wow, so many good question!

Okay, hardest choices... The hardest are probably unpublished at the moment, because, well... not every character will survive season three... So far we've only had a very minor character death (RIP Weasel) but there are certainly going to be some that hit harder later in this season.

As for stuff that is actually published... Probably Cass and Caine being a thing! I absolutely love them, but I wasn't sure if anybody else would. And I was very scared that them getting together would end with me losing a lot of readers. I know how people love their ships after all! It's part of why they take such a long time to get together, several whole fics of just them hopelessly flirting and thinking about it. I definitIe had quite a few moments of 'maybe I shouldn't'. But ultimately I did and I'm very glad about that!

Choices that came naturally!

The main one is probably just the family dynamic between Frederic, Arianna, Rapunzel, Cassandra and Eugene. I never really made any difficult choices about the direction it'd go in, everything just sorta of happened.

Cassandra and Eugene fell into their natural state of bickering.

Rapunzel and Cassandra had their sister dynamic.

Arianna made the decision to keep both girls as an official part of the family.

Even Frederic and Cassandra's bond kinda formed on it's own. In fact, I have notes for season 3 written before much of season 1 and it shows Cassandra and Frederic's relationship as A LOT more distance. Showing how I didn't plan or expect them to do so well, they just did! And I'm happy for them.

Anything that surprised me!

Arianna's declaration of 'After years of searching for it's lost princess, Corona now has two!' in the very first Tangled Sisters fic, caught me fully of guard! Changed the entire route of the series in the best way possible though.

Frederic and Cassandra forming the tight bond they did wasn't something I expected until quite far in!

Cassandra and Caine also I didn't see coming until a bit later!

Amaris! Eugene's ancestors who has a tendency to visit him in his dreams also just kinda happened and now she's a recurring character who whenever I write her I adore!

This fic surprised me and catched me off guard all the time! But I think everytime it does I just love the fic even more!

Things I wish I could change?

Well... not much, thankfully! Definitely some missed opportunities. Like I realised the other day while chatting in the comments that Cassandra should have given Lance her book on raising a child and given him a lesson. It would have been adorable and hilarious!

Rapunzel should have told the King of Koto about how Eugene's actually a prince of the Dark Kingdom when he claimed he was nobody to talk to him.

I forgot the fossil exhibition in Vardaros! There was supposed to be a fossil exhibition!

And other small things! But out of the big stuff... I can't think of anything I'd change.

What are you proudest of?

Cassandra and Caine! Probably because I was so nervous, seeing how excited readers are whenever they get a chapter just warms my heart!

Also, New Dream getting engaged before the series ends so they get to refer to each other as fiances for the entire third season! Very important.

And just the development of characters, the way they change and adapt yet still hold pieces of their past... I just feel like the characters change a lot without it ever feeling sudden and that's something I'm very proud of!

Anyway, that's enough rambling from me.

Thank you soooo much for this ask! It was amazing and really got me thinking about the series!! I hope my answers were interesting to you :D

[rviner]

Roxy feigns a gasp, mouth falling open in surprise even as her eyes gleam with mischief. "Angel face! I am hurt. I'd never betray you or your big boy." she insists as her hand clutches invisible pearls at her neck. Like always, the act drops away soon after and Roxy can only shrug to the question. "Not soon enough, if that's a fucking answer." her voice is petulant as she watches movement around the town hall. Busy people, all trying to survive. She wonders what it would take for everyone to just stop. What would the freeze button be? What would make everybody collectively say, we fucking give up. It's a curious thought, at least for Roxy.

She glances to Isla at the comment about Jack, a brow arching as her crooked grin curls over her lips. "Careful how you talk about him." she mentions softly and not because she cares about Jack's downfall, or even if the Cross pack get blamed for something she definitely knows they did. But because Roxy is known to have a soft spot or two in her life. She's not ashamed of them either. "Too many fingers pointing can still make the innocent fall."

Roxy can see the sadder shift happen through Isla as they talk about Amaris. She fights her own because soft spot or not, the perfectly curated image can never fail. She grins again, patting the space beside her on the tail of the truck. "I'll look for her." she confirms simply, legs swinging as they dangle and cross at her ankles. "Just give me where to start before you and lover boy blue run away and I'll get it covered. And I guess, I'll get Dom to help me too." he owes her a favor, in her mind anyways. She's helping with the dumb Rose pack searches so it's only fair.

;

Isla knows that a secret for Roxy simply means ammo, but thankfully there hasn't been any need for it to be used. She laughs, rummaging through the supplies to organize them. "I would say I trust you but I am not stupid." she glances to Roxy with her well-intended quip and nods, already finding it amusing if they did stumble upon a postcard from some once-upon-a-time tourist town. "When do you go out next?" she asks, and wants to ask how the search for other Rose wolves fairs but she knows better. Not many of them were like family for Roxy.

Isla carries a mix of pride and shame for how things ended with Jack. Mountains of pride for how the Crosses cared so deeply about looking for Amaris and Cece. But a niggle of guilt for tearing Jack away from his sister. "Grumpy is a nice word for him." too nice for him, which is why the guilt is so faint in comparison to the pride. Isla doesn't like to think what her sister is going through, because it's far too easy for her mind to spiral. Roxy's words, however, stir a faint laugh and Isla sighs. She stops ruffling through the supplies, turning to lean on them instead. The vision isn't hard to see in her own mind's eye, her sister lording over a whole facility like she's risen from Hell. "I hope so." she hopes a lot of things. "Maybe you looking will be good." not just for Amaris' sake but perhaps Roxy's too. "I know if you find her, she would be happy to see your face first."

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

I absolutely LOVE how you write angst, I'm always looking forward to a bit of hurt lol How'd the guys(romanced) react to being hit by the berserk syringe and start attacking Sole but come back to their senses right before actually killing Sole!?

i can’t imagine any of my boys hurting sole. this is such a unique scenario and i’m absolutely here for it! i’m not proud of this but please enjoy! <3

*i’ll edit this in the morning cause a bitch is tired.

[ tw: depression/violence/blood/injuries!!! ]

-

never in a million years did they expect the only person they’ve ever trusted to be the reason for their death. well, not the main reason, as the berserk syringe was the cause, but the fact that they were the reason why sole had been helpless on the floor only added on. they towered over sole, who laid in their puddle of blood, gasping in immense pain as they tried to use the last of their strength to plead. sole let out soft sobs, watching as their other half pointed the pistol at their head with no sense of remorse. this wasnt the way they expected to go, not by the hands of the only person they found love in.

“st..op..” they cried, trying to find the power to reach out to him. all the memories flashed through their mind; memories of their life before the bombs dropped, the moments they spent in the wasteland, and the day they fatefully encountered one another. they refused to die this way. sole mewled out his name, begging for him to stop. and just like that, they hesitated and regained consciousness, taking a moment to ground themselves into the situation and realize the horror of it.

-

Danse:

this was everything he’s ever feared since sole had landed into his life. he had dreams - not many - but definitely a fair amount of his loved one dying in his arms and he feared it may have been an omen wading in the darkness waiting to come to life - and it did, just not in the way he visualized. the sight of sole bleeding out in front of him brought him to a whole new level of fear. “sole?” he choked out in disbelief, unable to move. it’d take him a minute to piece everything together as his eyes darted from the weapon in his hand, to his surroundings, then the syringe... and it hit him. “shit!” he cursed, making his way to sole hurriedly and carried them off the ground, running towards goodneighbor. he had no time to talk, to cry, nor to feel sorry for himself. sole could be seconds away from dying and it’d be the last damn thing he’ll let happen. once someone had taken sole into their care, he would absolutely refuse to leave the building without knowing their status.

danse would sit in the chair or stand impatiently for hours on end, all thoughts of doing basic human necessities, such as eating and sleeping, completely slipping his mind. the minute he was given the chance to see sole, he did nothing but that and finally let the tears spill into the palms of his hands as he sat near soles bedside. sole would take him into their arms, kissing his hair gently as they caressed his head. “it wasn’t your fault,” they repeated constantly as reassurance, “none of it was.” despite soles words, he’d continuously blame it on himself for not being more attentive and have constant nightmares about what had happened, often finding himself in tears as he jolted awake. he’d explain to sole how he didn’t deserve them and how he was afraid it might just happen out of the blue again. it would take a long while for danse to get over his actions and a lot of reassurance from sole, who was more than glad to help him through these rough times.

Deacon:

deacon had panicked many times in various situations; you name it, it’s probably happened. but this? this was a different type of panic. one that he couldn’t avoid no matter how much he tried, regardless of how many lies and jokes he told himself. he darted to sole, taking them into his arms in a panicked manner as his breathing began to release in irregular patterns. “i didn’t do this, right?” he tried to push everything away, run from the truth that obviously surrounded the two, “sole, you know i’d never hurt you, right?” his voice trembled, hands shaking as he tried to move the hair out of their face. his stained hands and clothing told him nothing but the truth- he was responsible for what happened and there was nothing he could do. when sole let out a small, “i know,” and proceeded to look up at him with a tired expression, he broke down and held them close to his body, burying his face into their neck. “i’m sorry,” he sobbed, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

once sole had made it back to hq, he practically begged carrington to do everything in his power to help them survive. it took multiple people to hold deacon back as he fought against them, not wanting to leave soles side as they were taken away to a separate room. once carrington had given him the go to visit sole, he found himself rushing to the room, nearly ripping the door open. without another word, he latched onto them, letting everything he’s ever wanted to say to them spill out within seconds. how much he loved them, how they had changed his life, and things he wouldn’t normally say on a daily basis. sole would notice how he’d become excessively clingy right after that fateful moment and notice his attempts to cheer them up through jokes or little things he did for them throughout the day. during nightfall, he’d hold them in his arms, muttering apologies to them as tears spilled from his eyes. he didn’t know if he could forgive himself.. at least not for a while.

Maccready:

he choked on his own breath, throwing the gun to the side as far as possible. memories of lucy began flooding his mind and the thought of him being alone once more with additional blood on his hands only heightened his panic. with a loud sob, he dropped to his knees and brought sole to his arms, shakily caressing their cheek. “sole, sole. hon, look at me,” he choked through his tears, trying to keep them awake. he stroked their cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort them through the pain with words, touches, anything. “don’t close your eyes. please don’t leave me.” despite the condition they were in, they opened their eyes obediently, staring up weakly at mac who continued to sob. his tears fell off his face and right onto soles cheek, washing away any blood that trailed down. “we’re gonna get you help and you’re gonna get better. you’re gonna come home with me, duncan, and shaun, okay?” his hand moved down to lock with theirs as he gave it a reassuring squeeze, “they’re waiting for us at home, remember?” sole began to tear up, intertwining fingers with mac, “tell them i love them, please.” something triggered in mac and he shook his head, lifting them from the ground and finding his way to the closest town he could find, yelling at anyone for help.

after their wounds had been treated properly, the doctor had led him to the room where he saw his other half lay in bed, all patched up and taken care of. “they will be okay. i advise letting them rest for a while and try to stray away from any physical activity until they show signs of improvement.” the man noticed how mac stared at them with tears in his eyes and he coughed, “i’ll give you a moment, sir.” the sound of the door closing behind him would ease the tension he had in his shoulders and he would lean down, pressing a kiss on soles forehead as they slept.“you hear that, hon? you’re gonna be okay.” as soon as sole made it back home with him, he’d do everything he can to ensure that sole would recover properly. mac would do all the dirty work sole usually did and checked up on them as much possible, visibly worrying to death about them. at night, he’d have a hard time sleeping with the guilt weighing on his shoulders but soles words and affection were more than enough to ease his worries.

Hancock:

to say he hated himself at that very moment was a huge understatement, this being the cherry on top of everything on his list. he knew he’d fuck it up someday, but he never expected himself to go this far. even knowing that it wasn’t his fault and the syringe was the reason why he started attacking, it didn’t change the fact that it was done by his hands. he dropped and tended to soles injuries as much as he could before taking them back to goodneighbor. hancock used everything sole possessed- stimpacks, med x, etc while whispering reassuring things to them, knowing that blaming himself won’t do anything good. when sole weakly grabs his wrist and stares at him with fear and shock, he feels all his intentions of being calm sink to the ground. “am i gonna die?” oh god. never once in their time spent together has he ever heard them say something so heartbreaking. even in the craziest situations, they would always remain hopeful. hancock dropped whatever he held and scrambled to take them into his arms, attempting to soothe their mind. “you’re not gonna die. i’m not gonna let that happen.” he reassured, “there’s no fucking way in hell i’m gonna lose you.” hancock entering goodneighbor with sole in his arms would automatically send a message to the rest of the town and they’d begin readying the medical rooms and collecting all the medical supplies that were available for dr. amaris use.

sole had been discharged eventually into hancock’s care and he’d dote on them 24/7, ensuring that all their needs were met and would go above and beyond with everything they requested. while sole slept, he’d release his anger and bottled up thoughts by taking chems or going out to shoot things to release some emotions. whenever they were awake, he’d trace the wounds with his fingers gently and kiss their skin, apologizing about his actions endlessly. “it fucking hurts to know i did this.” he mutters, “i’m the one who’s supposed to be protecting you, not fucking doing the opposite.” sole would take his hand and brush their lips over his knuckles, “you’ve always protected me, none of this was on you,” hancock watched them with soft eyes, “we’ll get through this together, alright?” the mayor would nod, sending them a sad smile, “alright.”

Nick Valentine:

one of the many who refuses to say anything, but reacts quickly in response. he has no time for mourning or apologies right now and his main priority is to get sole help, even if it means kicking someone’s door down, then so fucking be it. he immediately wraps his coat around sole and carries them to the direction of diamond city, which was thankfully nearby. he whispered things he hoped they could hear despite their unresponsiveness, and silently begged that they’d be okay. when the doctor attempted to take sole into the emergency room, they had grabbed his wrist firmly, catching nicks full attention within seconds. “n-nick, don’t leave.” they pleaded weakly, tearing up when he looked down at them with grief and concern. nick rested a hand on their cheek, placing a soft kiss on their forehead. “sweetheart, i’m never gonna leave you. once you wake up, i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.” he whispered.

“promise?” sole whimpered, their hand still wrapped around nicks wrist. “i swear on it.” he looked up at doctor sun, who was assessing the injuries quietly, “we must act fast.” nick gave him a nod of approval, slowly feeling soles fingers slip away from his touch. as nick promised, he was there the minute sole had opened their eyes. he cupped their cheeks, leaning his forehead on theirs as he let out a shaky breath. “i’m so, so sorry.” they’d shake their head and remind him that it wasn’t his choice nor did they expect it to happen. nick decided to trust their words and though it did tend to lurk in the back of his mind often, he pushed it away as much as he could. he’d definitely become more cautious the next time they would hit the road and sole would notice that his paranoia reached to a whole new level.

Preston:

this seemed too familiar. the sight of his hands full of soles blood brought him back to when quincy was attacked by the gunners. it reminded him of how much people he couldn’t save back home and it surfaced emotions he yearned to forget, only this time.. it was way worse. “no, no, no.” he weeped, taking sole into his arms, “please, please tell me it’s a bad dream.” they had never seen preston so devastated in his life as loud sobs escaped his lips. sole weakly wrapped their fingers around prestons forearm, staring up at him through half lidded eyes. “it’s okay, preston.” their voice was strained and the color draining from their face only made his cries louder. “no, it’s not okay! i can’t lose you,” he said, “i lost everything in my life. i cant lose you sole, anything but you.” and without another word, he’d hold them in his arms as he ran to get help.

he wasn’t about to repeat the events that occurred at quincy and sole wasn’t gonna be another person he couldn’t save because of his careless actions. sole was the last person he wants to let go and there’s nothing that will stop him from ensuring their safety. he would fall back into his depression during soles recovery, knowing he was responsible for what happened to them and would find it absolutely difficult to ever forgive himself. even with sole reassuring him constantly that it was okay, he’d still deny it and cry as sole held him in their arms. just like deacon and danse, it would take nearly forever for preston to let go of what happened and it would eat him up inside and out every second of the day. it would take a lot of reassurance and self trust for him to understand that there was nothing they could’ve done.

Sturges:

he’s absolutely paralyzed, the gun falling out of his fingers unconsciously as he gazed at sole who desperately called out his name. sturges stared at his hands that were painted with that gut churning red and felt himself grow dizzy, hearing nothing but static fill his ears. he was so used to seeing that black/brown fluid paint his gloves that this contrast of red and black made him feel sick. this is why he didn’t step outside the comfort of his home and why he utterly refuses to hold a weapon. soles voice would break his train of thought and he’d immediately rush over to them, realizing that sole was on an unknown time limit. seeing their face so pale and lifeless scared the absolute shit out of him, and knew that there was nothing he could do at that moment to ease their pain. sturges grabbed their bag, searching for anything and everything that could possibly help them, eventually bringing out a stimpack and jammed it into their arm. when sole let out a pained whimper, he turned to face them and held their hand gently, his voice shaky as he spoke, “i’m here, sweetheart. i ain’t going no where.” he continued searching their bag and his eyes fell on the flare that was given to them when they had gotten recruited. that’s right, sanctuary wasn’t very far off from where they were, somebody was bound to see it one way or the other. quickly, he loaded it up and pointed it upwards, pulling the trigger.

once the bright flash appeared in the sky, he crawled over to sole and propped their head on his lap as he held them close. “helps comin’, sweetheart.” he whispered into their hair, “just hold on.” after those events he conspired and sole was given proper treatment and care, he’d be unable to focus on his tasks, his mind retreating back to those horrid memories he yearned to forget. he’d become more quiet and more inconsistent with his duties as the thoughts began to stick with him more. even the sight of a weapon would trigger him, immediately paralyzing sturges as the memories began flooding back. eventually, sole would have to confront him about what had happened to truly ease his mind off the tragedy, giving him some sense of comfort that whatever had happened was out of his control.

Gage:

one moment, he was shooting down gunners left and right and now, he was on his two feet, about to do the same with the only person who’s ever given a fuck about him. he should’ve killed the fucking bastard who shot that syringe at him- gut him clean with his knife and hang him up for display. none of that mattered now, the man was long gone and dead. the only thing that did though was sole. quickly, his hands traveled throughout their body where he could spot the visible injuries and pressed against them, as if it would halt any of the bleeding. “boss, can ya’ hear me?” he felt the fear surge through him the moment they remained unresponsive, eyes closed despite his small taps on their cheek. “fuck,” he breathed, “wake the fuck up.” his voice became more desperate as he attempted to shake them awake, but when sole showed no signs of opening their eyes anytime soon, his heart dropped. “don’t think you get to fuckin’ die on me. not now.” his voice was full of anger- not at sole, but at himself - as he carried sole in his arms to bring them to the nearest infirmary he could find. ‘not ever’, he thought, going as fast as his legs could take him, ignoring the growing pain in his limbs as he did so.

the infirmary he brought sole to informed him that they were not able to take them in due to the rooms being occupied and he pointed his gun at every single one of them, an angry expression painting his face. “now, if ya don’t take them in, i’ll be sure to take care each and every one of ya,” every worker in the building swallowed nervously, raising their hands in surrender, “i don’t make any empty threats, so get goin’ or things are gonna get dirty.” the doctors swallowed nervously, nodding in agreement as they hesitently took sole from his arms. once sole was treated and given time to recover, he’d properly confront them after days of thinking to himself. gage would give a proper and heartfelt apology, guilt wading in his eyes as he spoke. if sole tried to do anything that was against the doctors orders, he’d snap at them, annoyed at their stubbornness, “dang it boss, lay the fuck down.” he’d spit, eventually letting out a sigh as he turned his back at them, “i fuckin’ got it. just say the word and i’ll do it.” he’d feel himself flush, embarrassed at his temper as sole remained quiet, “i just,” he choked on his words, “i want ya to get better. i’m the reason why yer hurt and shit, so let me do this. please.”

[iminye]

finrod for the character thing!!

Thank you for the ask! Let's do this!

How I feel about this character

I love Finrod, he's just generally a really cool and compelling character. I got attached to him fairly quickly and he's very precious to me. Definitely amongst my top ten Tolkien characters for sure!

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Amarie. That's basically it. I never really saw the appeal of most of the other Finrod ships, which by all means doesn't mean I dislike then I just don't feel very strongly about them. I would read fics involving these ships if they're not the main focus.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Curufin. I like Curufinrod in a platonic frenemy kind of way and I really enjoy their dynamics with eachother! I have considered a romantic situation for them but in the end I decided to settle with that version.

The house of Bëor. All of them, doesn't matter who. Finrod will be friends with them and would/will die for them. I like his friendship/relationship with Barahir and Beren the most though.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don't really get the appeal of him being very shippable? I'm not sure if I can convey my reasoning perfectly but it's just that Finrod really never gave off these vibes for me? I see him as that sort of person who really loves his friends and has a lot of them but is completely clueless about actual romance. He and Amarie had both a long way to go before they even considered courting.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened to this character in canon

Obviously him surviving. Finrod could've probably solved some issues later on if he had survived. Also he would have started traveling the world for sure and please just imagine him meeting Hobbits. He would be so delighted!

[johnbernsteinx]

INTRODUCING: John Bernstein

“To create is to live twice.”

THE BASICS

Full Name: Jonathan “John” Bernstein Age: thirty-seven Birthday: August 9th, 1983 Zodiac: Leo Sun, Leo Moon, Virgo Rising Occupation: Gallery Manager and Curator at the Crescent Harbor Art Gallery Length of Time in Crescent Harbor: seven years Neighborhood: Goldfinch Valley [view his apartment] Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Pansexual Relationship Status: in a relationship with @quinn-hawthorne​ Qualities: creative, nurturing, open-minded, loyal, driven, kind Flaws: pretentious, impatient, compulsive, nervous, stubborn, proud MBTI: INFJ-T “The Turbulent Advocate” Moral Alignment: Neutral Good Enneagram: Type 6 “The Loyalist”

THE FAMILY SITUATION

tw: foster care, adoption

John spent his childhood growing up in the foster care system, going from home to home until he was six years old. He doesn’t know his biological parents but is very close to his adoptive parents, which is why he usually refers to the Mannings as his mother and father, despite not being related by blood. The family fostered other kids as well, so there was always someone around. They had two biological children as well, who John also considers his siblings. His youngest adoptive sibling, Rose Paisi (@rosalindpaisi), recently moved to Crescent Harbor which he is incredibly excited about as they are very close.

THE LOOKS

Faceclaim: Dan Levy Height: 5'11’’ Hair Color/Length: black and short, usually neatly coiffed, curly if without product (aka never, unless you live with him or catch him off-guard) Facial Hair: John usually doesn’t go for a clean shave ever. He’s always sporting some stubble. Eyes: brown Complexion: clear, warm undertones Body: Average/Athletic. John enjoys excerise a lot but also likes to indulge in foods that aren’t considered good. Whether he’s keeping up with yoga, running or some light lifting, there’s rarely a day where he doesn’t add some kind of activity to his agenda, mostly to make sure he’s training his mobility. His frequent walks with his dog will also do the trick. Style: John is very interested in fashion and not at all scared to add some more unique styles to his wardrobe. More often than not, he sticks to a rather casual yet formal style, mostly due to his job but also because he likes to dress well and feel good about the way he looks. He’s usually sticking to high quality, if not designer, sweaters or dress shirts with a nice pair of pants but will also wear a good pair of denim jeans and a t-shirt occasionally. He also loves a good print. The man always looks very put together. You can find some outfits here. Smells Like: Considering his habit of going for runs in the mornings, John usually never leaves the house for meetings or errands unless he’s freshly showered. He hates nothing more than being smelly or dirty even, so he tends to smell fresh with a hint of cologne.

THE STORY

tw: foster care, motorcycle accident, injuries

Jonathan “John” Bernstein grew up in the foster care system and moved into a foster home in Toronto when he was already six years old but it was there where he finally got to experience what being a family was all about

He never met his biological parents and isn’t sure whether or not he’d like to some day. He’s in the process of trying to figure out how to go about looking for them, just to know but without success so far. He hasn’t told anyone about thsi and thinks it’s better to keep it close to his chest for now.

John is a very kind and very passionate person. If he’s excited over something, you’ll know! He doesn’t only get excited about things directly tied to himself though but about other people’s interests and successes, too.

The people around him either love him or hate him for it because he will go on and on and never stop until you tell him to. He always likes to indulge in rather intense conversations as it is and will go out of his way to help anyone with patience and kindness if they have any problem at all. 

His intensity paired with his overall level-headedness is very useful when it comes to his profession though because he’s a natural at being a salesman who is always eager to network which makes renting and buying art for the gallery to help it extend and thrive an easy task (if you ignore the amount of overtime he collected over the past few years).

So basically, he’s a big softy who loves art in all shapes and forms and will go on about it to anyone for hours if they let him or dare to step into the gallery.

He moved out to Vancouver right after high school to go to university. He majored in visual arts.

When he was 24, John was involved in a crash with his motorcycle that left him severely injured and in a coma.

He made it through but the accident threw him into a spin and basically had him starting at zero. The healing process took a whole year because of complicated fractures and nerve injuries that he needed a lot of physical therapy and rest for - which only made John realized that he is not as good at taking care of himself as he thought he was up until then.

Jonathan feels incredibly fortunate to have survived the crash, despite the fact that it left him with some issues to this day. On his worse days, he’ll have a slight limp due to a hurt nerve in his leg and a pelvic fracture. He also suffered a minor motor nerve damage in his wrist which makes it hard for him to create art himself or do basic tasks, really. It keeps him from being able to lift heavy items or do other basic tasks due to the lack of strength and control. He learned to live with these remaining injuries and doesn’t really let them stop him, unless he pushes himself too hard and has to give in. He was also left with quite a few scars scattered across his body but considers them a small price he had to pay if it meant he still got to come out of it alive.

He loves to travel and did quite a lot of it after his recovery and before settling in Crescent Harbor where he’s been living for the past seven years. 

John traveled to and worked in Tokyo and London the most and got a lot of his experience when it comes to galleries from his time there.

These days he’s gotten too busy and caught up in his work to even think of taking a vacation which is bad but the workaholic in him would say otherwise. Maybe it’s that or his inability to give up control - the man just needs to relax!

Despite growing up and becoming a lot more confident as he got older, John is still very soft-spoken at times but always polite and definitely happy to talk to anyone. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention and tries to stay in the background more, even though he’s not as shy as he used to be. 

Overall, he’s a very friendly guy and tries to help anyone who might have a problem but don’t make him mad - the switch flips slowly but surely.

When you are in his circle though, he’ll do anything for you. He made quite a few friends in his years of living in Crescent Harbor due to that but his best friend and confidante is Diana Blackwood-Amari (@diana-amari).

Right now, he’s busy house hunting with his partner Quinn Hawthorne (@quinn-hawthorne), while also trying to navigate the ups and downs that come with being in a long-term relationship after having stuck to his own company for longer than he’d care to admit. Lets just say, communication is not their strong suit but they’re learning.

To sum it up: he’s soft, warm and friendly, very interested in art in any shape or form and just wants to be your friend if you let him! Just don’t disrespect him and you’re golden! Otherwise, you might get a pretty intimidating side-eye and a snarky comment or two.

Also, he would die for his dog, a Dachshund-Corgi mix named Merlot, and so would I tbh.

Find John’s wanted connections here, his full stats here, some musings here and his full bio here. 💕

[ask-odyssiaoctavius]

Oh, that might be an interesting discussion. How many alternate-universe Ocks do you know? And what do you think of each of them?

I know... a lot of them. And while I don’t really know them all well enough to make a good assessment on them over a cursory glance (I made the mistake of trusting Juice Man first of all), I will try to answer this even if it kills me. Here’s some notable ones I’ve met:

Lady Octopus (Amari Octavius) of Earth-777b. A very, very sweet young lady from a sister dimension of my own. I consider her to be like a daughter to me… mostly because in another dimension, she is! To a different version of myself (Doctor Odyssia Octavius of Earth-777b)! Very soft, very passionate about her work, very huggable. She’s wonderful and I’m glad that I met her… now if only I could get my spider in this dimension to break her pact with that fucking angel.. Hm.

Lord Octopus (Xander Reedey) of Earth-77718. A very enthusiastic and interesting young man! I do very much appreciate his passion for both marine biology and the Writhing One, much like my dear Lady Octopus! I consider him to be something like a son to me? Only vaguely since he’s a bit older than Amari. I am excited to see where he uses his magic and intellect!

Dr. October Otto of Earth-2. The odd duck amongst us Ocks. They are the “Doctor Otto” of Earth-2, which according to them, their dimension is ravaged by a strange mind altering disease called Noctis Hectica. Apparently this virus seems to have infected the resident Spider-Woman (now going by Harvester), who has now been experiencing rabies-like symptoms but, they mentioned that unlike rabies, it seems to add some mutations, a considerable increase in strength (especially in her spider powers), and she still seems to retain her intellect (though her behavior has become violent and aggressive). So, what makes Dr. Otto odd? Well, it seems that they’re more… soft hearted than most of us and they seemed to be far too disturbed by us to work with us. It’s a shame, seeing that they’re very intelligent and competent enough to survive their post apocalyptic dimension. Oh well.

Oliver Octavius of Earth-42711a. Ugh.... I’ve talked enough about this man. I don’t care to say more about him so read what I’ve said here. Fuck that guy. Fuck his fake title too. He’s not even a REAL doctor he’s just using the title his dad earned. He’s a Grade-A Fucker who I now see why he has no friends; he irritates them too much.

Dr. Otto Octavius/G-O of Earth-8363. Hmm. Seems polite enough? He was generous enough to share some of samples of some… energy he was studying. So I gave his some haunted shit I’ve gathered as a trade off for him to study. I hope he found those helpful in some way.

Dr. Ottoline Octavius of Earth-196000. An incredibly rancid bitch. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with so much passive aggressive malice. She’s this sterile, robotically polite creep who never ceased to smile or break eye contact. She might appear nice and friendly but make no mistake; that Ock is beyond fucked up even for me. I don’t know what her fucking problem is but I’m like. 90% certain she’s some MK ULTRA experiment or something. It’s not often that I’m disturbed by someone/something these days after playing around with my magic but she definitely hits the top ten as of late.

Dr. Orchid Octavius of Earth-443454. I never thought I’d see a toy Doc Ock but here we are! She was so very small and so very pink… This Ock was a living plush doll of sorts with other doll arms attached to her back… I mention this because quite frankly, this one has to be the weirdest Ock I’ve encountered so far. She’s stupidly adorable though. Though I would worry about her if she had to fight a spider bigger than herself! Maybe she can ‘Shadow of the Colossus’ them?

Dr. Otto Octavius of Earth-99918. Another fairly nice man, though when I first met him, he was drenched in water from the Hudson so I had to get the guy clothes from my aquarium so he didn’t have to sit there like a drowned rat. Though it was strange to see… erm, for lack of a better term, “art style” difference between me and him. Especially when he put on the shirt from my dimension.. It looked like a regular shirt photoshopped onto a hyper realistic man. Terrifying but amusing! One of the many funny quirks of the multiverse..

Dr. Otto Octavius of Earth-61610. A true and charismatic man of science I can very much respect! He’s quite talented with biotechnology and I have to give credit where it’s due: he’s definitely among the smartest of the Ocks, in my opinion. As you’ve probably seen, i have given him great insight into Octopus anatomy and physiology and in turn, he gifted me with a truly fascinating work of evolution (along with a prototype of a new octobot): a real scale off of the feared and revered kaiju, Gojira! Hopefully one day I can see this beauty in person and perhaps get to know this Dr. Octavius and his work better. Unlike Oliver, this man has reason and is not clouded by being petty. He knows exactly what he wants and I admire him for that.

[moon-lily]

Treasure Hunting

(In which an Au Ra WoL drags a certain red-haired catboy onto a hunt.)

“And where is your hero? Did she wander off when you weren’t looking,” asked Y’shtola, arms crossed as she smirked at G’raha Tia.

“I’ll have you know that she mentioned having to drop off some provisions to the Immortal Flames,” he replied, keeping in mind to be as calm as possible. He already made the mistake of letting it slip of how he looked up to the Warriors of Light, he can’t give her another.

“And what of the other two? Could they not have taken you along with them to wherever called them?” Now she wasn’t as teasing, genuinely curious instead.

“Sariel and Amaris had said they were going to the First to check on Ryne and Gaia. Apparently they had been making progress on restoring the elements to the Empty.” 

“That’s... A relief to hear,” Y’shtola muttered, smiling sincerely. “I did hold apprehensions that Norvrandt would be the only remaining inhabitable region after we left. But with their mission... The First would be restored beyond the balance of light and darkness.”

G’raha nodded in agreement, adding, “They truly bring hope where they go. It took but one look into Sariel’s eyes to know they were nearing the end in their mission for the First. There was.. resolve within them.”

Before Y’shtola could add anything further, the front door of the Rising Stones burst open as a familiar black-haired Au Ra ran in, wearing a gray urban coat, blue trousers, and black boots. Her long hair flowed behind her as she ran, holding up a piece of parchment in her hand.

“Look! Look,” she called as she approached them, waving the paper. “I found.. a treasure map!” She held the paper out to them as she caught her breath, but it was fairly obvious to the other two Scions that this map seemed... fake. The crude drawing of landmarks on it was reminiscent of a young child’s artistic work, the parchment looking fairly new and not worn out as most maps were.

“Surely you’re aware this isn’t authentic,” Y’shtola asked deadpan, gazing at the Au Ra.

“Bah, that’s just what they want you to think,” she retorted, tapping at her elegantly curved horn. “I’m sure this is a ploy to throw any would-be treasure hunter off.”

“But did you see the illustration on it,” asked G’raha, pointing at the crude attempt of drawing landmarks. “It isn’t very... ahm... well done.”

“See? You two are already dismissing this map! Well, I for one am not about to give up on this. It was fate that this map flew into my face while I was in Ul’Dah, so I’m certain there’s bound to be something at the location. If I must hunt on my own, so be it.”

“All right, I’ll see to it that you aren’t harmed should it prove to be a trap instead,” G’raha offered, earning a look from Y’shtola.

“If that’s the case, I’ll remain at the Rising Stones,” Y’shtola said with a shrug. “Personally, I was never one to be infatuated by treasure or the hunting of it. And I’m sure G’raha would prefer to have more quality time with his hero. Do take care, Lilith, on your next attempt of adventure-hosting.” She smirked as G’raha’s tail and ears perked up out of surprise, the man quickly looking away and fidgeting his hands sheepishly. Y’shtola then gave an acknowledging nod to the two before walking away to grab some tea, leaving the two alone for now.

“She’s not going to let up on that, is she,” Lilith asked, chuckling. “But I’m glad you still want to join, despite your doubts on the quality of this map.”

“Truth be told, I’ve never gone treasure hunting before,” G’raha admitted, still sheepish. “I doubt our explorations of the Crystal Tower count, considering that was done in the name of knowledge and not riches. An opportunity, really, to have that experience and ensure you won’t get harmed if the map held malicious intent behind its making.”

“Is that so? Well, I feel safer already - you’ve saved my life on more than one occasion,” she said as she lifted a finger in a matter-of-fact way. “Hm, with that in mind... would it not make sense that you’re my hero too?”

“I-I doubt it works in the same way! Compared to you, I-I haven’t - I mean, that is.. You’ve done far more than I have!” He was red in the face, hands up with his palms out as he shook his head in denial, tail raised.

“Must you be so modest? Or can you not handle some praise being thrown your way by me,” asked Lilith, rubbing her chin as a mischievous glint flashed in her blue eyes.

“The map! Let’s focus back on the treasure to be found!” He was too flustered to allow this to carry on, hoping and praying to the Twelve that the map would pull her attention away from him and onto that instead. The Au Ra would blink and then glance back down at the map in her hand, excitement filling her eyes as she was reminded of treasure.

“Oh, right! How could we get so side-tracked? Especially when we can find Gil, jewelry, or who knows what else!?” She did a twirl in place while holding the map close to herself - he wondered if that was done out of habit from being a dancer - all while she started to name several things she would buy with the newfound wealth. This was.. a side he hadn’t seen of her before, his hand coming up close to his chin as he observed her. Try as he might, he couldn’t recall a moment where she so openly admitted to wanting treasure or fortune. Or perhaps she simply hadn’t done so in front of him? There was also the possibility that he didn’t notice despite the obvious fixation on money - unlikely but still possible. 

Her hand suddenly grabbed his, surprising him out of his contemplation as she pulled him along. She certainly was a lot stronger than her petite appearance implied. “C’mon, enough wasting time here,” she said as she pointed with her free hand to the front door. “There’s treasure to be found!”

One hour later...

“This can’t possibly be right,” Lilith said with a shake of her head, eyes glancing from the map to the area before her repeatedly. “This.. this is too easy! It can’t possibly be this easy!” The location of the X on the map was fairly close to Scorpion Crossing, and even figuring out the location didn’t take too long as she recognized the area. After all, Ul’Dah was where she first started her adventuring.

“Would that make the map a hoax,” asked G’raha, half hoping she’d reach that realization soon.

“No way! Look there,” she told him, pointing to the ground near a rock. “The earth looks disturbed there, so someone definitely buried something here. At least.. this doesn’t make it a complete waste of time.” 

“It’s curious, though... You were in Ul’dah when you found the map, correct? Why is it that you went through the trouble of returning to Mor Dhona when you could have found the treasure on your own?”

“Hm,” Lilith hummed, walking over to the area where the treasure was presumably buried. “Honestly, I really was tempted to find it and keep whatever I found to myself but-” She crouched down to one knee, staring at the ground a moment before looking back up at him. “Well, it’s not about just me now, is it? The old me would have done exactly that, thinking she couldn’t rely on anyone else but herself.”

G’raha’s eyes widened slightly out of surprise, quietly chastising himself for even thinking she was infatuated with money for the sake of greed. But now this raised another concern, the Miqo’te approaching her and crouching to be eye level.

“Pray if this is prying, you need only say the word,” he started, ears lowered slightly as he hesitated to continue. “Why would you have the idea that you could not trust anyone else?”

Lilith’s gloved hands scooped some of the moved dirt, her brow furrowed, as she started to slowly dig. Silence hung in the air between them, Lilith eventually pausing and sighing.

“I suppose... It was because my parents never supported my dream,” she replied slowly, hesitating. “Their reasons made sense... They only wanted to protect me, keep me safe from the dangers of the world.” She dug more dirt off, G’raha soon following her lead to help. “Which also meant that they kept me from knowing too much about it. To keep me from getting too curious.” 

“That would explain why you were very unfamiliar with Eorzea,” he mused, Lilith nodding in response.

“Yes, exactly. All I wanted was to explore the world, see everything there was and learn what I could about it. If my own parents couldn’t support that, couldn’t let me be... myself, then I was better off on my own.” Her hands were still over the small hole she had made so far, staring hard at the earth. “I didn’t need anyone else to help me nor keep me from what I yearned to do.” G’raha’s hand reached out, palm and fingers dirty from digging, and rested it gently over hers, Lilith looking up to meet his crimson gaze.

“It’s a relief to know that your old self had grown from that, to see that there are many who support you and your dreams,” he said softly, warm smile on his lips.

“Mn, I’ve - no, we’ve come a long way. Amaris, Sariel and I... After what happened on the First, I know for a fact I have that support, and I won’t give that up.” She smiled back at him and looked back down, G’raha pulling his hand away so they could get back to digging. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Of course.. Any time you feel the need to share your burdens, I’ll be there to ease some of it off your shoulders. That is, if you trust me enough to do so..”

“Oh, when haven’t I? You could give yourself a bit more credit.” She chuckled as she now started to dig faster, glad that he was here with her. With her fellow Warriors of Light, of course there was an understanding between them - there were things that only they could do. For the longest time, she believed it would only be them, that no one else would truly understand what it was like to bear the weight of worlds on their shoulders. 

But he knew.

He had lived it. He bore the weight of the Crystarium’s hopes for a better tomorrow, surviving and rebelling against sin eaters and annihilation. And despite it all, he still held that inner desire to adventure, just like she always had. A kindred spirit. Perhaps that was why she found it easy to speak her mind around him? Her gloved fingertips brushed against something solid, Lilith soon realizing that it must be a coffer. 

“Ah, there it is,” she said excitedly, picking up her pace. G’raha nodded and picked up his own pace to help her. They’d dig around some more, try to lift it, dig again to loosen it, before the coffer finally became free. Though, once it was lifted out of the ground by the two, Lilith noticed that it wasn’t really a coffer. No, it looked like a sealed crate, and barely held together at that. Settling the crate down, Lilith used her gloved hands to grab the top of it and pull, slowly prying the lid free to reveal...

“Toys? It’s just toys,” she asked, staring in disbelief at the contents. G’raha dusted his hands off as best he could before reaching in and pulling out a chocobo plush toy, squeezing it to check for anything suspicious, his ears twitching to listen carefully.

“‘Twould seem so. A crate full of ordinary toys,” he muttered, setting the plush toy back and inspecting the others. “No enchantments or suspicious items within them either. Who would go through the effort of burying toys?” A snap of a twig caught their attention, both turning their heads to see a young Hyur boy peeking at them from behind a rock. Though, he looked surprised and scared that he was caught.

“You there,” Lilith called, taking a few steps forward and bending down a bit so the child wouldn’t be so intimidated. “Is this yours by any chance?” She reached into the pocket of her coat, pulling out the map.

“I-it is but... another kid was supposed to find it, not a-” He stopped and blinked, eyes widening in realization as he realized whom he was speaking to. “Y-you’re...! A Warrior of Light! The Au Ra one!” Suddenly his eyes seemed to brighten as he ran up to get a better and closer look at her, gazing in awe at her. Lilith could only smile and chuckle sheepishly, the boy taking a moment before taking the map from her. 

“You started here in Ul’Dah, right!? Helping people around before you became a  great adventurer,” he asked, looking absolutely star-stricken.

“That is her origin,” confirmed G’raha, stepping closer to them. “Helping your fellow man is what set her on the road to being a hero.”

“I-I’m trying my best on that,” the kid explained, though his downward gaze seemed solemn. “But... What if you can’t help everyone?”

G’raha and Lilith exchanged looks before turning their concerned gazes to the boy, Lilith crouching down some to be eye level with him. “When you reach a situation like that,” started Lilith, voice patient and gentle. “You look for help. Not even the most valiant heroes can stand alone.” 

“Even you?” The boy was surprised to hear this, before his eyes widened in realization. “The other Warriors... They help you too, don’t they?”

“Indeed, and we also have the help of the Scions,” she added, looking to G’raha to accentuate he was one of them. “So what is it that troubles you? Surely we can offer some assistance for whatever plight you have.”

“W-well... All those toys in the crate were supposed to be a treasure to a lucky kid,” he started, pointing at the crate they dug up. “I... I couldn’t just pick random kids to give my old toys to. It didn’t feel right to pick who gets one and who doesn’t... So I thought leaving it to chance and luck would be better.”

“I see, then you made a map to guide one to this location,” G’raha asked, glancing to the crate. “Understandable that such a decision would be difficult. I’ve made some similar decisions myself, though not in regard to toys. I digress.. Have you only made the one map? The one Lilith found?”

“No, I made more but... I don’t think that would have worked because some kids could have fought for it,” the boy sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t.. think that through til now.”

“Well, there’s really one solution to all this,” Lilith said as she straightened up, dusting off her hands as she turned her head toward G’raha. “Get what gil we can gather and buy more toys. I’m sure I’ve saved up enough for that as is.”

“Wh-what!? Are you serious!?” The boy’s mouth was open in shock, not expecting for them to make such a generous donation.

“And why would I lie about that,” teased the Au Ra, pulling her gloves off to rest a hand on the top of his head. “Trust me - trust us. Though, I will add that I need your help to point us in the right direction of where all the kids you want us to give toys to are at. Can we trust you with this part of the mission?”

“Yes! I won’t let you down!”

“That’s the spirit, we’ll collect this crate and then head for the closest shop that sells more toys like this.” Moving her hand away, she looked at G’raha with a little smile. “I do hope you’re ready for a bit more work. Helping the less fortunate is all part of the job.” 

“I’m confident I can handle that,” he said with a chuckle, picking up the crate of toys. “Though perhaps it’d be wise to call on the other Scions and Warriors to help with carrying around all the toys?”

“Ah, good idea! I’ll give them a quick call on the linkpearl.” As she turned away to get a hold of their friends, G’raha quietly sighed and smiled. He came into this little adventure with thoughts that she was driven by a desire for wealth. Well, she did seem in love with treasure, but unlike some, she didn’t give in fully to her greed. No, there was more to her than he thought, than what he had seen. And it filled him with a curiosity to know more about her than what he already read about.

[nitewrighter]

So many for Faumir but how about 25? :D

(From this prompt list)

25. “you make me nervous and happy and horny all at the same time and it’s confusing as fuck sometimes.”

Pfffft. That’s not a prompt so much as their whole relationship, huh?

I wanted to continue the dialogue from this ask.

---

“You didn’t think this through, did you?” Faustine sounded more bored than anyone in handcuffs should be.

“Just shut up and let me think,” said Samir, checking the window and materializing the parts of his hard-light rifle.

“You realize since you breached negotiations, Talon now has no reason to believe Overwatch will respect the terms of negotiation next time. That’s a war crime, you know.”

“Says the literal terrorist,” muttered Samir, “How many of Talon’s competitors have you poisoned over dinner?”

“More than I can count but... no honor among thieves,” Faustine replied airily, “Weren’t you supposed to be the ‘good guys?’”

“You don’t get the ‘good guy’ when you get my moms involved.”

Faustine snorted. “Your mothers are combatants, idiot. They’re fair game.” She sighed and rolled her eyes, “You’re no fun when you’re emotional. You get as dumb as your brother.”

Samir bristled as he looked out the window. “You don’t get to talk about him like that.”

“Like how you talk about him?”

“I can make a hard-light gag, you know.”

“Kinky,” he could hear the smirk in her voice and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“Don’t think I won’t do it,” he said, bringing the scope of the rifle to his eye.

“You’re not very used to taking hostages, are you?” Faustine chided.

Because it’s a stupid and cowardly move, thought Samir, Because it’s the kind of move Talon would make when backed into a corner and god help me if she’s rubbing off on me.

“I’m figuring it out,” he muttered.

“Well then, pro tip: Don’t turn your back on them,” said Faustine.

He didn’t register how close she was until she was already garroting him with the hard-light cuffs he put on her. The rifle clattered to the ground.

Stupid move, he thought, he was taller, stronger, and he could dematerialize the cuffs with just one button on his hard-light projector, but as he instinctively brought his arm up to hit the button, her hand flailed out for the projector. So that was her gambit: Get access to the projector with her neuroprosthetics.

You get as dumb as your brother.

Samir opted to respond in a true Rajeev manner, pivoting on his heel and slamming her into the wall next to the window back-first before seizing the chain of the cuffs at his neck with his non-projector arm, bending forward and flipping her onto the ground.

“Oof!” She landed butt-first, and Samir reflexively got into a position to prepare for her counterattack, but instead she sat up, almost childlike with her legs splayed flat on the ground and her cuffed hands palms-up on the floor between them. “Owww...”

Samir stayed tense—it could be a ploy to get his guard down, but then watching her brace her hands on the ground to get herself into a slightly more dignified sitting position, the thought occurred to him that fighting Faustine wasn’t like fighting Seye or Andrea or Akasha.

“I take it you’re not used to being taken captive either,” said Samir.

“Oh no, I get kidnapped all the time. This is just an off-day,” said Faustine, brushing her bangs from her face, “I would have been much more prepared had you abducted me on a Tuesday.”

Samir snickered and then caught himself as she pushed up and tried to dust herself off as best she could with her hands still cuffed. It occurred to him that this was probably the furthest a situation had ever been from her control, yet she was still acting as if she had a dozen Talon goons ready to pump him full of holes with one word. On the one hand that could be a ploy to keep him paranoid and stupid, on the other... maybe it was a defense mechanism on her end. Maybe she didn’t even know how to turn it off.

“It’s like you said at the dinner,” he said, looking back out the window, “We just need to figure out leverage.”

“You taking me hostage doesn’t work the same way as Talon taking your moms hostage,” said Faustine.

“What?” Samir glanced over at her and she huffed a little.

“Prisoners are like plums,” she said as if she was reciting a fun little nursery rhyme, “The longer you have them, the less they’re worth.”

A prickle of stress flared up the back of Samir’s neck. “What are you talking about?”

“....the longer you have me here, the more likely it is there are four... maybe 5 people vying to fill the empty place I left,” said Faustine, “Eventually giving me back won’t mean anything to Talon but pride, and you know that doesn’t mean that much to us, given our methods.”

“So what,” said Samir with an incredulous chuckle, “You’re saying Talon would just abandon you?” 

Faustine made a ‘welp’ motion, shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head with a terrifying amount of resignation.

“No--” Samir shook his head, “No, you’re playing me. Maximilien is your father-”

“Adoptive father,” said Faustine, “And ask yourself--who had more to gain from my parents’ dying, Overwatch, or Talon?”

Samir stared at her for a few seconds. “Talon murdered your parents?”

“...no,” said Faustine, a stubborn bitterness in her voice before glancing off, “Not in any way I can prove, at least.”

Samir blinked a few times and looked over at her, weighing what she had just said.

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” muttered Faustine, glancing off. 

“...like what?” said Samir, blankly. 

“Like you feel sorry for me. Don’t. I can’t stand when people feel sorry for me. I know what I’m doing. And I’m good at it.”

“You’re in handcuffs,” said Samir.

“You won’t kill me,” said Faustine. There was that infuriating boredom in her voice again.

Samir’s lips drew thin. “What makes you so sure about that? You’re Talon. I need to hold good on my word if anything happens to my moms.”

“A. I’m your only bargaining chip. B. You heard my previous point about prisoners and plums and know you need to act quickly before this whole thing collapses and sucks you under.”

“I think you’re underestimating how much of an asset you are to Talon to get me to make a mistake,” said Samir.

“Which brings me to C: You’ll get bored without me.”

“Bored?” said Samir.

“Your other teammates let their heads get all fogged up with arbitrary notions of honor and valor and goodness. You figured out treating the whole thing like a puzzle makes things a lot easier. We’re the only ones on our teams willing to see the whole thing as a chessboard--”

“I don’t--”

“You do,” said Faustine, “You hate admitting that you see things as a game, because you’re an Amari, and that means you’re brave and tough and heroic and you value life but deep down... it makes everything easier. It’s a state of flow that no one should find themselves in, but it’s a dance you know the steps to.” 

“Well maybe I want to win the game, did you think about that part?” said Samir.

“I did,” said Faustine, “...which is why I want to help you get your moms back.”

“Bullshit.”

“If you lose your parents to Talon like I lost mine, it’s going to change you,” said Faustine, the assuredness in those near-violet eyes was terrifying, “It won’t be a game anymore. At best, I’ll be playing against myself.”

“...and you don’t want Talon to replace you,” said Samir, folding his arms.

“I did say I’m good at my job,” said Faustine.

Samir gave her a long sidelong glance, his wadjet tattoo crinkling slightly with the narrowing of his eyes. 

“You took a hostage,” said Faustine, “That’s a Talon move. If you want to survive Talon’s game, you’re going to need my help.”

“Except for the part where I can’t trust a single word you say,” said Samir.

“Well that spares me from having to explain rule number one,” said Faustine with a slight smile, “Don’t trust a word anyone from Talon says.”

“Yeah the second I start playing by your rules, I know I’m screwed,” said Samir.

“Already know rule number 2, you’re good at this,” said Faustine.

“See at this point you’re definitely making rules up so you can butter me up,” said Samir.

“No, actually, rule number three is ‘there’s no problem that can’t be solved by an unholy amount of money,’ but I don’t think that one quite applies to this situation,” said Faustine, “Certainly not to Overwatch.”

Samir huffed. “I didn’t ask for your help by the way--in case you’ve forgotten, you’re the hostage here.”

“Rule number four of Talon:,” Faustine bumped her shoulder against his, “People are going to help you--you won’t ask for their help, but it’ll help, and then expect them to ask for a favor in the future. We’re in a crab pot--you try crawling out now, you get yanked right back in.” 

“Fuck you,” said Samir, glancing off with a slight chuckle.

“You can’t--that’s rule six of the whole hostage situation thing:,” said Faustine. She looped the chain of her hard-light cuffs behind his head. The movement was so obvious and so deliberate that the sheer audacity of it threw him off-guard. He felt the pressure of the chord of the cuffs on the back of his neck, pulling him down to her level. “Don’t,” he caught a whiff of her perfume--bergamot and mimosa, “Get,” he felt her breath on his lips, “Compromised.” Her mouth closed on his.

 A half-mad part of him nearly fell into it--she was right; it was their game and no one else got it. She got it though, and she was furious and she was infuriatingly bourgeois and she was smart and she was funny and she still acted like she had so much control even when the whole world seemed to be spinning off of its axis and someone had to save her and she fed right into that little bud of adrenaline he could feel like a fire at the base of his skull. He tasted her tongue and that burst of physical contact was almost enough to turn him to jelly--he just wanted to melt into her, to forget about everything, to let the world burn away around them, but then that selfsame world made his eyes snap open with her lips still on his, made him register the fact that she had brought her cuffed hands down behind him to pull him tighter against her, but now they were shifting, one of her hands going for his hard-light projector. Another ploy, another distraction. She would burn the world, that was the difference between them. He broke apart from the kiss and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her away from him and effectively using his own torso as a post to keep her neuroprosthetic nails out of reach of his hard-light projector.

“Rule number one, right?” said Samir.

Faustine sighed. “It was worth a shot.”

“You skipped rule number five.”

“You aren’t ready for rule number five,” said Faustine, smiling.

[siribear]

‘let glory take point,’ deacon says. ‘she’s the one with the armor.’ it’s true. glory’s the only one even remotely defended, her heavy jacket modified with metal plates stitched within the padding of the tan coat. she and deacon are only dressed in their plain shirts and jeans, for lack of any other armor available at hq.

‘after you, ma’am.’ whisper gestures, falling in line behind glory.

‘don’t call me ma’am,’ glory mutters, leading them through the metro.

thankfully, they only encounter raiders during their trek. the unorganized group doesn’t stand a chance against the three trained agents. glory draws all the attention while whisper and deacon sneak around to pick off the distracted raiders.

‘nice to see that even with your sneaky shit, you haven’t lost your touch, dee.’

deacon, almost in response, finishes off a raider with a clean shot to the head. ‘i aims to please.’

whisper slings an arm across his shoulders, now that the area’s cleared. ‘it’s why i keep him around.’

glory frowns and makes to flick at her glasses. whisper flinches backward, slinking behind deacon. ‘and he made you into a deacon 2.0.’

‘i have to admit, she’s the better looking between the two of us.’

whisper turns around to call the elevator and to hide her growing blush. only made worse when glory openly agrees. the elevator dings, and an automated voice announces its arrival to bzzt floor. ‘after you, miss glory.’

‘being pretty doesn’t make that any less annoying,’ she says, but still enters, and whisper can only smile.

down in the basement, they’re greeted by the haptic sounds of gunfire. immediately, deacon and whisper duck down and behind the minuscule cover the open elevator doors provide. glory ducks, winding up her minigun. no sudden gunfire slams into the elevator, but they can still hear the gunfire, followed by screaming. the only voices they hear are human, over the unmistakable sound of laser fire.

‘more synths,’ whisper says, low. ‘sorry, glory.’

glory sighs. ‘let’s just get this over with.’

glory takes point again as they slowly make their way forward, down a short hallway that ends in a left turn. slowly, at least, until glory charges forward, whisper and deacon on her heels. a handful of raiders, whatever’s left of the group that took over the metro, faces off against a squad of synths. unfortunately, the raiders are trapped behind their makeshift wooden structures, and even with the high ground granted by their constructed lofts, they’re no match for the synth’s lasers and glory’s minigun. the synths, on the other hand, have taken advantage of the stalled subway car, peering through broken windows and metal doors.

between the sharpshooters, the synths are picked off, sparks lighting the dim subway with every one that goes down. glory ends the remaining raiders in a bloody shower of red. all in all, they did well. no injuries on their side, but the carnage turns her stomach. they probably thought the trio could help them; everyone turned against the synths - but the raiders would have turned on them right after, no doubt. some dimming part of her feels - terribly guilty.

‘what’s going through your head, partner?’ deacon asks from his crouched position, hands deep in the pockets of a dead raider. he passes her a handful of pistol ammo, the bullets tinged red with blood.

‘idealism,’ she says, softly.

‘go on.’

she groans, frustrated. ‘just - wondering how many people we can prevent from turning to raiding, you know? no lack of food, water, safety. no need to turn to chems. that sort of thing.’

deacon stares at her for a moment, silent. then, ‘watch that bleeding heart of yours. most people are content to let you bleed out.’

‘yeah, i’m figuring out that much.’ the world pre-war was by no means perfect, but it still shocks her how bad things have gotten. but maybe it’s always been this way, just under the surface, the bombs blowing away the top level of society, peeling back the layers, leaving them with this. she doesn’t take part in the looting, this time.

when the scavenging is finished, glory stands near the door that will lead them back to the surface. ‘you know, this was actually a pretty good run. you two aren’t so bad. guess i can say it was good seeing you two, but i should report back to griswold.’ on the way up, whisper quickly runs her through the updates from the day’s earlier meeting. ‘hey, you find a way back into the institute, i want to be there.’ she cracks her neck. ‘storm the place, give my last fuck you to the assholes who created me.’

‘top of my list, glory, don’t worry.’

‘and keep an eye on the brotherhood,’ she says, motioning to the sky. ‘i’ve been seeing those vertibirds flying around. who knows what they’re looking for.’

‘duly noted, mademoiselle gloire,’ whisper says with a grin. deacon chuckles.

glory isn’t as amused - or not that she’d admit. there’s definitely a smile she’s fighting. ‘and you were doing so well.’

‘what was it? i aims to please.’

glory points between the two of them. ‘i’m getting out of this pair. right now. before i strangle the both of you.’

‘you know we’ll miss you terribly, gloria.’ deacon receives a friendly middle finger in glory’s wake.

-

whisper hardly needs his help maneuvering around the city these days. it almost makes him feel useless. almost. until he stops her from walking right into mutie territory; the mutants have moved further into the city, set up their favorite, bloody decorations along the buildings like christmas lights.

but his partner likes to walk the old roads, likes to wear away the poor, centuries old pavement. ‘save some road for future generations,’ he begs her, and, bless her, she takes to a sidewalk. leave it to her to think of the future.

so, maybe that’s why he appreciates her. it’s been far too long since he’s thought of the future. can’t appreciate the seeds you’ve sewn for the future if you don’t survive the day. she makes him think there might be an end to that.

whisper stops at the entrance to goodneighbor, hand stilled on the metal door.

‘take a hit to the head back in malden? forget how to use doors?’

she spins on her heel, puts her back to the door, and all deacon can think is: uh oh. he knows the look; she wants to talk. and he’ll talk, sure, but -

‘why didn’t you tell me about the tech you picked from kellogg’s brain?’

- deacon is, unfortunately, finding it more difficult to lie to her. she’s picked out enough of his bullshit, gone along with the rest of it. the act itself isn’t difficult - deacon’s been lying for years. but there’s a little part of him that whispers (ha) don’t lie to her.

‘didn’t seem important.’

she cants her head to the side. ‘try again. you can do better.’

see, he can. but he doesn’t want to. so he gives her the truth. part of it, anyway. ‘it might have been a waste of time. i figured, between tom and carrington, they’d find out if it was a lead worth pursuing.’

he notices the tension begin to drain from her shoulders. a leak, not a release. ‘so it wasn’t because you don’t trust me?’

so that’s what this is about. carrington must have gotten to her more than she let on. ‘of course not. i trust you.’ more than he probably should, but deacon still considers himself a good judge of character.

she catches her genuine smile, turns it into a grin, and he can hear the wink in her voice when she says, ‘thought you can’t trust anyone?’

he rolls his eyes even though she’s turned her back to him to push through to goodneighbor. ‘just you, partner,’ he mumbles, low enough that she can’t hear.

-

amari looks between the two of them before pulling away from her paperwork. the memory den is empty today, likely in preparation for what they’re about to do. though, irma had apparently been told who to look out for, because she had simply waved them on to the back.

‘do you have a geiger counter?’ the doctor asks.

‘mine is in the shop,’ whisper answers dutifully. the doctor’s hands return from under her desk and away from a pistol she no doubt has hidden. deacon has taught them all so well.

‘i recognize you.’ amari nods at deacon. ‘you’re the other one?’ when whisper introduces herself, amari’s eyes widen. ‘ah, i see. h2 mentioned you.’

‘he’s why we’re here. malden center is open again for one last run. desdemona is working on another route.’

amari closes her eyes and nods. ‘i thought as much. thank you. it was getting dangerous holding him here.’ she rises from her desk. ‘i’ve kept him the back room, but we’re going to need it if we’re going to go through with this procedure.’ she holds out a note with another shorthand - different from deacon’s own - scribbled in drummer boy’s handwriting. ‘your other friend isn’t here yet. i’ll go have h2 move to another room.’

‘no!’ whisper near-shouts. ‘i’ll get him, it’s no trouble.’

‘i don’t think that’s - ‘ amari begins, but whisper is already halfway to the back. ‘is this her first?’

deacon nods. ‘they got particularly close. she took a bullet for him.’ he remembers the look in her eyes when they were sitting in the lobby in ticon. like a mother looking at her son. how it didn’t hit him then that she’s a mother - ‘she’d find out one way or another.’

he can’t protect her from this.

‘he left this for her.’ amari pulls a holotape from her pocket. ‘that’s how i knew who she was.’

-

whisper is breathless, half-skipping down the stairs to where h2 waits. she takes in that mop of brown hair, his padded blue jacket, though he’s grown a beard since the last time she saw him. he sits on a couch at the edge of the room, staring down at his hands.

‘hey - ‘

‘whoa, lady.’ it’s h2′s face, but not his voice. this man’s voice is rougher, not the soft-spoken young man she met in the church. ‘doc said i’m in quarantine. i might be contagious or something. what’re you doin’ down here?’

there’s no recognition in his eyes when he looks at her. just confusion. ‘i, uh, i work with the doctor. she said you’re clear, and we’re moving you to another room. she’s - she’s upstairs.’

‘oh, hey, cool. i was gettin’ bored down here. only so many times you can count ceiling tiles, y’know? was tempted to take a little nap in one of those pods. anyway, upstairs, you said?’

whisper’s glad for the sunglasses when he comes closer. somehow, she keeps the tears out of her voice. ‘yeah, upstairs. she’ll get you set up to leave.’

‘thanks again, lady. nice meetin’ you.’

she doesn’t turn, just listens to the sound of his retreating footsteps. ‘yeah. nice to meet you.’

it’s where deacon and nick find her moments later, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the two memory pods in front of her. the former puts a hand between her shoulders, leans around her. ‘you okay? i should have warned you - ’

‘no, i needed to find out myself. i get it.’ she’s since dried her tears.

‘this is for you.’ he takes one of her hands in his, places something cold and metal in the center. ‘from h2. before.’ it’s a small holotape with her codename written on it.

she puts it in her pocket. ‘thank you.’

nick passes by the two of them and runs a leathery hand over the glass of one of the pods. ‘from what i understand, we’re jumping into kellogg’s memories. sounds crazy, but knowing the institute - ’ he looks to her. ‘you ready?’

the pod looks like the one she stepped into two hundred years ago, though cushioned and inclined. the top half is entirely glass, with a single monitor hanging from the top. static hums on the screen.

whisper takes one step toward it, then freezes. what if it doesn’t open when it’s over? what if she’s stuck again, two hundred years - she grabs deacon’s hand without thinking, grips it like she’s holding on for dear life.

maybe she is.

‘we’ll all be right here,’ he reassures her. ‘it’s just memories. kellogg can’t hurt you in there.’ he turns to someone walking by, and she sees dr. amari has joined them downstairs. ‘he can’t hurt her somehow, right? this is just routine memory viewing?’

dr. amari sighs. ‘routine is not the word i’d use. unorthodox, yes, but no more dangerous. mr. valentine here is the only one in danger of complications.’

‘nick - ‘

‘it’s all right, doll. i agreed to this.’

she sighs heavily. deacon leads her over to the pod and doesn’t let go of her hand until it begins to close. it hisses shut, the hinges clicking as it locks. locks.

‘your heartbeat spiked. i need you to calm down or the memory sync won’t work,’ comes dr. amari’s voice from a small speaker near her head.

calm. breathe in, breathe out. count to ten. breathe in - deacon taps on the glass next to her. the closed pod muffles the sound of him dragging a chair over next to her. i’m right here, she reads his lips.

‘that’s better. this is your first time, so i have to tell you: it might feel a little strange. the static on the monitor is white noise, that’s all. you will be viewing these memories, as if you’re there. but you will be viewing them from kellogg’s perspective. okay?’

‘okay,’ whisper croaks. her voice barely sounds like her own. like h2′s didn’t sound the same -

‘no, no, calm down. we’re almost there. mr. valentine is ready when you are. are you?’

breathe out. ‘i’m ready.’

‘good. sunglasses off, close your eyes, and - ‘

whisper feels a sharp shock at the base of her skull, and the world goes black.

-

deacon watches whisper through the glass, eyes closed like she’s sleeping, but her eyes move back and forth rapidly. her breathing is even, at least. he props his chin in the palm of his hand, and waits.

-

she’s in a bedroom, looking down at child drawings on a bed, worn out crayons spread across a threadbare blanket. a woman sits next to her, smelling of cigarette smoke and something - something else, something familiar, but she can’t place it. she wants to turn her head to look at her, see why she seems so familiar, but she can’t. instead, she flinches at a loud knock on her bedroom door and a louder, male voice screaming on the other side of it.

the woman slides a gun into view, the revolver she’ll come to know, and places a hand on hers. ‘connie,’ the woman says, and finally she looks up. mousy brown hair, bruises on her face, a split lip. ‘you can’t rely on anyone else, honey. this is the only thing you can trust.’

the gun is heavy in her small hands. the man bangs on the door again. she aims the revolver at the door, hands shaking. the man screams and yells, and she doesn’t pull the trigger.

i ran away from home, kellogg’s voice is soft in her mind. i think she wanted me to kill him, but i didn’t realize until i was older and it was too late. don’t know what happened to her. maybe she got out.

oh, whisper thinks.

‘that’s not it. we’ll move on to the next memory.’

-

she’s older now, a prominent scar on her face and leather jacket reflecting in the kitchen window. she watches her wife clean up after breakfast. she has a job to get to in the afternoon, but until then - she wraps her arms around the woman’s waist, presses a kiss to the top of her head. sarah, this she knows. she remembers her, because how could she possibly forget her? her face, the sound of her voice.

and then their daughter coos from her high chair, tosses around crumbs sarah will be finding around the kitchen for months. mary. almost two years old. thank god she’s got her mother’s face. don’t know what she’d do if mary inherited this mug.

surprised to find out i had a family, once upon a time? we aren’t so different, you and i.

‘another memory, then.’

-

she stalks down a hallway like death. she’s the reaper. she’s deliverance. justice. revenge. there will be no mercy when she finds them. the revolver fits perfectly in her hand. a voice calls to her overhead: ‘they died like dogs. and you weren’t there to protect them.’ she knows this voice. she hates this voice. she’s going to tear his throat out with her teeth. she kicks down a door and fires. one, two, three, four, five, six. one was enough. two through six were for sarah and mary. it doesn’t bring them back, but it feels fucking good.

not so different.

‘getting closer.’

-

she nurses a beer. or was it a whiskey? maybe it’s rum tonight. she doesn’t know the name of the bar, but it never matters. what does matter: there’s always a drink.

this was the start of it, she remembers. remaking a name for herself. answering to no one but herself. having someone else lord over her makes them think they own you. and, well, when you have something they can take away?

she takes the job from the drifters. kill some family upriver. names don’t matter. caps do. keeps the liquor flowing.

kellogg is quiet, contemplative. all she gets is the soft buzzing in the back of her mind, and then she’s shuffled off to the next memory.

-

she stands in front of a woman in a clean, white suit. not many people like that around here, anymore. and she’s got two robots flanking her with a third hovering just over her own shoulder. she’s already calculated every way to make it out of this alive if it goes bad.

institute. boogeyman. and apparently she’s gotten on their bad side. not her fault, really, if the institute’s been pissing off people with enough caps to buy her help to get back at them. the only solution she can see: the institute pays her more than that. no more problem.

so the scientist doesn’t believe her at first, that’s fine. she believes after she single handedly takes out three of their skeleton-looking synths before any of them can get a shot off.

minutemen for you, institute for me, kellogg says. how close we were to becoming the same person.

-

‘manual override initiated. cryogenic stasis suspended.’

no. no, no, no. please, she can’t watch this again.

she stares at the faces of the people as they begin to wake up. first, the confusion. then, the panic. they don’t need to open any of these pods. just one. a man wakes, a baby held in one arm. that’s the target. the man looks at her, then past her, and when she turns, she sees - herself. the back up. the pod hisses open, and the man coughs and sputters, never letting go of the child.

cruel. she wonders what the fuck she did to the institute to deserve this job. the old man could have done this himself. not hard to steal an infant from a man whose muscles have been held in stasis for two hundred years.

she raises her revolver when he won’t let go, though, and maybe that’s why she’s-he’s here. do the hard job no one else wants to do. she pulls the trigger, and the man slumps forward. the scientist with him takes the baby who cries loud, echoing off the vault walls. she wonders if that’s what mary sounded like when they took her. oh well. that was years ago and she was a different person, then.

she looks to the woman with murder in her eyes. she grins. this woman would be her justice. her deliverance. her reaper. if only they’d let her go. as it is, she’s the back up. the other scientist down the hall puts her back to sleep. the other poor suckers stay trapped in their pods, forced to suffocate until their end.

‘are you okay? your heart rate increased again.’

‘dr. amari,’ she whispers, throat laden with tears, ‘next memory.’

-

their little house in diamond city has started to become a home. shaun has started to pin his drawings everywhere. some of her, down to her distinct scar. some of his parents he can barely seem to remember. she hasn’t had the heart to tell him what she did. because she’s rather enjoyed - this. what she could have had. shaun’s got the floor covered with his comic books now, and he knows he’ll have to clean them up before dinner.

he’s a good kid. looks like a perfect mix between his mother and father. shaun laughs at travis rambling on the radio, or maybe it’s something he’s reading in his books. she’s busy cleaning her revolver, breathing in the moment.

it ends, though, as do all things. the institute’s courser steps through the door, and everything changes. shaun is to go to the institute, for good. and she’s to hunt down virgil, hiding out in the glowing sea. shaun looks up at her with confused, but understanding eyes. she doesn’t even get to say goodbye before he and the courser disappear in a flash of blue light, teleported back to the institute.

she spins the chambers on her revolver, listens to it click and whir. with a flick of her wrist, it’s done. she’ll set up in fort hagen for now. the old man will have her house cleaned out the moment she leaves, so she packs only what she needs. her guns, ammo, armor. her favorite cigars and booze, because if she’s going to the glowing sea, she’s going to enjoy herself before setting foot in that radiation bath.

she picks up shaun’s pile of comics and stacks them neatly on the desk. maybe whatever courser that cleans her place will take them back to shaun. she laughs, realizing how stupid that sounds. so she picks up the stack herself and throws the entire thing into the trash can.

she shoulders her bag and turns off the lights, locking the door behind her. at least she had the taste of her perfect little family.

good riddance.

now get out.

-

‘that’s it!’ amari shouts, but deacon isn’t listening.

he’s watching whisper wake up slowly, electrodes at the base of her skull falling as she pulls away from the chair. she touches her cheek, follows the trail of her tears from earlier. whatever she saw bothered her. a lot. she practically jumps when the pod clicks open, and he’s there in an instant, helping her out of it and steadying her shaking legs.

‘that’s why we could never find an entrance to the institute. there isn’t one. at least not an obvious one.’

‘teleportation - that’s,’ whisper starts slowly, tries to reform words. ‘how?’

‘i assume that scientist the courser - ‘ deacon stiffens. ‘ - mentioned, virgil, will know something. he’s your best bet. the glowing sea,’ amari says to him, the only one not privy to any of this, ‘that’s where you’ll find him.’

the glowing sea. a heavily irradiated expanse of land. great.

‘where’s nick?’ whisper asks.

‘he was up before you. i’m going to check on him, make sure there’s no side effects from that procedure. then i need to get ready to move h2. excuse me.’

amari leaves in a rush, but whisper stays where she is, looking dazed. he remembers the first time he used the memory pod, and he ended up much like this after it. though reliving the memories of an institute hitman couldn’t have been easy on her.

‘whisper,’ he tries, bringing her focus back to him, instead of the chair she’s burning a hole into. ‘you okay?’

‘deacon,’ she stares up at him, eyes wide. she opens her mouth to speak, cups his face like she’s trying to see if he’s real, and then her eyes shift down, and suddenly she’s kissing him.

his hands instinctively go to her hips, but the rest of his body is two steps behind his brain that is currently short circuiting. it’s over, as quick as it was unexpected, and he has a hell of an internal war trying to convince himself that he isn’t disappointed.

she pulls away slowly, eyes half-lidded, and she whispers, ‘thank you,’ against his lips, still so close he can trace out the syllables. whisper comes back to herself, eyes back to his, bright and hopeful. ‘thank you, thank you,’ she repeats.

‘wait. what?’

she’s still grinning when she bends down to pick up her sunglasses, fallen to the floor of the memory pod, and it doesn’t fade even as she drags him back upstairs to the main floor of the memory den.

[nostalgiaslithersin]

Muggle!MC Challenge

The timing of your challenge couldn’t have been better, @cursebreakerfarrier​, because I was actually thinking about this the other day!

The Picrew I used can be found here.

Muggle!Lee: 

Lee was a mix of jock and nerd growing up. Participated in sports like football and rugby, and cofounded his secondary school’s chess club with his friend Murphy McNully.  

He was also super into computer science and physics. 

(Most sciences are fascinating to him, really. Biology is probably his least favorite.) 

A gifted student. Valedictorian of his class in both secondary school and university... at the cost of his sleep schedule and sanity, among other things. 

Seriously. Keeping up with classes, extracurricular activities, and work would be difficult for any person, but for someone like Lee who has trouble retaining focus for extended periods of time, it was especially taxing. He was working his fingers to the bone and fueling up on caffeine daily to survive. 

(Hello, undiagnosed ADHD. My old friend.)

Speaking of university, in my early drafts of Lee’s HPHM character, I toyed with the idea of him being an inventor of some sort in the future, so my mind immediately went to robotics for Muggle!Lee. I could see him pursuing something like electrical engineering as a major and future career.

He would definitely be a big fan of MythBusters later in life when it aired, btw. That’s just a given. 

And I could see him taking part in those competitions where robots designed by the player(s) fight each other. Idk, it just feels like something he’d be totally into haha.

As for his love life, that was one of the ‘other things’ that suffered as a result of Lee's hectic schedule/workaholic tendencies. 

Before his husband, his most significant relationship was with aspiring athlete Skye Parkin, and it was very tumultuous. On-and-off-again for years, with a bad ending. Completely destroyed their friendship and turned Lee off to serious relationships for a long time. 

Later in his adulthood, Lee met Detective Talbott Winger at a mutual friend’s (Penny's!) birthday party. He saw him hovering on the outskirts of the crowd and made it his mission that night to talk to him. 

Talbott, being the grumpy introvert we know and love, had every intention to duck out of the party early and was subsequently very annoyed when a random guy came up to him and started making conversation. 

They talked out on the balcony until three in the morning, and in the end, Tal gave Lee his number. To this day, he has no idea how that happened.

They got married two years later, and have been together ever since. 

Their family includes three older children they adopted together, a toad named Toad, and a pair of parrots named after two of Talbott’s favorite poets. 

Muggle!Phoebe:

She was 100% a band geek growing up. Was always involved in orchestra and choir all throughout her education years. Some things never change. 

She also occasionally partook in football with friends, playing as a goalie. 

It’s through this where she meets Orion Amari, a new kid at their school who asked to join their game after watching them play. 

Considering he didn’t look like the jock type, Phoebe was unprepared for how damned good a player he was and lost her goal-saving hot streak to a well-executed score of his. It wasn’t enough to save his team, but it kickstarted Phoebe’s friendly vendetta against him and got them talking.  

Their friendship developed very quickly, and it was to the surprise of no one when they started dating the following year. They were clearly smitten with each other. 

They broke up two years later, but it was amicable and mostly due to graduating and going their separate ways. They remained good friends.

Uni was when Phoebe really came into herself and her identity as a bisexual woman. She was closeted and struggled with her attraction to women throughout her teenage years, but as an adult, she finally felt ready to explore her sexuality and eventually found confidence and pride in it.

She studied music theory, btw. Like Witch!Phoebe, music is her life’s passion and her dream is to be a rock star. 

She was part of a queer, all-female punk rock band as the lead guitarist and one of the vocalists.They were very popular on campus.

The band broke up shortly after uni due to creative differences. It was also rumored that lead vocalist Merula Snyde did not take well to Phoebe dating Tulip Karasu, her ex-girlfriend whom she still secretly had feelings for, which caused a massive rift between the two musicians. 

(The rumor was true, and the stress of it all ended up being the undoing of Phoebe and Tulip’s relationship as well. RIP.)

After graduating, Phoebe worked a lot of odd jobs to support herself while she slowly but surely began to make a name for herself within the music industry, eventually starting a well-received hard rock band with her favorite (and only) brother, Jacob, and his best friend Duncan Ashe. 

It was during a performance at a pub in Glasgow, Scotland, that Phoebe had a surprise reunion with Orion. The pair had fallen out of touch in the decade they’d been apart, but it became apparent very quickly as they caught up that the love between them hadn’t faded with time. 

And since I’m predictable, they do get back together and stay together for the rest of their lives.

In Phoebe’s mind, her greatest achievement in life is the two daughters she has with Orion, but the first album she ever put out with her band and her continuously growing and varying discography is definitely up there as well. :)

[amarisfm]

what    it    do    baby    boos    !    ignore    that    i'm    back    AGAIN    ,    but    i    couldn't    let    go    so    sue    me    .    this    is    my    baby    love    amari    ,    had    her    here    before    but    ..    missed    her    so    bad    and    now    i'm    switchin    her    up    a    little    bit    .    but    anyway    .    you    know    the    drill    .    sab    /    sabrina    ,    nineteen    ,    mst    timezone    and    a    whore    for    aesthetic    .    if    you    wanna    plot    ,    hmu    on    the    disco    !    da    HELL😡😡#8723    

chicago’s    very    own    AMARI    ROMERO    has    been    spotted    on    madison    avenue    driving    a    tesla    ,    welcome    !    your    resemblance    to    cindy    kimberly    is    unreal    .    according    to    tmz    ,    you    just    had    your    twenty-first    birthday    bash        .    your    chance    of    surviving    new    york    is    uncertain    because    you’re    mendacious    ,    but    being    adamantine    might    help    you    .    i    think    being    a    gemini    explains    that    .        3    things    that    would    paint        a        better    picture    of    you    would    be    smeared    lipstick    ,    personalized    video    game    controllers    ,    neon    lights    around    your    room    .    (    i    used    to    scam    people    at    the    old    strip    club    i    worked    at    to    get    the    money    to    kick    start    my    streaming    career    )    &    (    cisfem    +    she&her        )    +        (        sab,    19    ,    she/her    ,    mst    )

i    .    /    basics    .

♡    full    name    :    amari    '    mari    '    romero    

♡    age    :    twenty    -    one    !    

♡    star    sign    :    gemini    !    

♡    faceclaim    :    cindy    kimberly    !    

♡    voiceclaim    :    ariana    grande    !    

♡    profession    :    singer    /    model    /    streamer    !

♡    tattoos    :    a    tiara    on    her    ring    finger    ,    rose    behind    her    right    ear    ,    baby    on    her    inner    lip    

♡    piercings    :    ears    ,    nipples    

♡    parents    :    adrienne    romero    ,    formerly    morenno    .    (    mother    )    niklaus    '    klaus    '    romero    .    (    father    )    

♡    siblings    :    antonio    romero    (    older    brother    )     !    

♡    pets    :    two    newfoundlands    ,    named    ruby    and    polo    !    

♡    character    inspo    :    (    bold    means    heavily    influenced    !    )    carla    caleruega    ,    cheryl    blossom    ,    jackie    burkhart    ,    blair    waldorf    with    a    bit    of    serena    ,    brooke    davis    but    also    peyton    sawyer    ,    plus    plenty    more    but    i'm    brain    dead    !    

ii    .    biography    /    blurbs    .    

♡        amari        was        born        in        spain        ,        moved        to        the        states        at        a        young        age        .        stayed        with        a        host        family        whilst        her        parents        stayed        in        spain        for        their        businesses        .        mother        is        a        fashion        designer        ,        father        is        a        high        up        businessman        .        not        a        clean        business        though        ,        so        her        familes        definitely        got        secrets        .        but        she's        also        got        hella        connections        but        she        really        wanted        to        try        to        come        up        more        on        her        own        .        think        kylie        j        ,        already        had        a        name        but        worked        for        it        kinda        fmnsdmf        

♡        she        used        to        be        a        stripper        ,        genuinely        jus        because        she        enjoyed        it        .        she        didnt        really        need        the        money        ,        cause        it        would        take        a        bat        of        an        eye        to        get        it        from        her        dad        .        but        she        wanted        to        work        for        herself        ,        so        she        spent        a        year        or        two        doin        that        .        while        gettin        the        money        set        aside        for        the        career        shes        always        realllly        wanted        .        

♡        she's        a        streamer        ,        an        absolute        video        game        nerd        .        has        all        the        games        you        can        think        of        ,        mainly        plays        pokemon        ,        fortnite        ,        animal        crossing        ,        mario        games        …        the        nerdiest        of        the        nerds        .        but        loves        her        fan        base        more        than        anyone        knows        

♡        she's        pretty        big        ,        definitely        still        climbin        to        the        top        but        .        shes        workin        .        her        dads        been        definitely        pulling        strings        though        as        much        as        she        hates        to        admit        it        but        her        dads        got        a        big        name        you        know        .        

♡        shes        got        a        problem        with        relationships        ,        has        definitely        been        labelled        as        a        clout        chaser        even        though        shes        got        a        name        for        herself        .        but        shes        in        and        out        of        relationships        a        loooot