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johnwickb1tsch · 1 year ago

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 4 all chapters

Winter is making you stir crazy, so on your day off you decide to go for a hike on one of the copious mountain trails around your town. There’s still snow on the ground, and in the middle of the day you seem to have the woods nearly to yourself.

You like being by yourself.

The mountain is quiet, but for the wind in the trees and some determinedly chipper little birds chirping.

You nearly have a heart attack when you round a bend, and there is a large figure in all black. For a split-second you mistake him for a bear, before you realize it’s Mr. Wick.

“Jesus, you scared me,” you huff.

“Sorry,” he says, seeming genuinely apologetic.

“Where’s Dog?”

“I left him at home. Too cold.”

You like it, that he considered Dog’s comfort in the matter.

With a small frown he peers around you. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. I hike alone all the time.”

You hope he will spare you the lecture, even if it secretly pleases you that he is a little worried for you.

He sighs a little. “I wish you wouldn’t. You never know who you might run into out here.”

You cant your head, finding this statement slightly ironic, considering.

“I can handle myself. You’re looking at a junior Tae Kwon Do black belt, I’ll have you know.” The latter you deliver with a sassy grin, because even though it has come in useful on a few occasions, in the real world you know it doesn’t mean shit. You were just a child, and it was a long time ago.

This actually succeeds in winning you what is nearly a full-on smile, for him. “Well then. Remind me not to piss you off.”

The thought is absurd to you. You’re no willowy waif by far, but you can tell right now that this totally fit—and fine as fuck, if you’re being honest—man could snap you like a twig, if he wanted to. You snort in answer.

“I’m sure it won’t come up.”

He levels you with a long look then, that you don’t entirely understand.

“So…you like hiking in the cold?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

“I guess I’m used to it,” he answers. “I was born in Belarus.”

“Oh.” There is no hint of accent in his words. You reason he must have come to America at a very young age.

“And you?”

“I was not born in Belarus,” you confirm. It’s his turn to huff, and your heart skitters in your chest when he takes a step closer. He veritably looms over you, so tall and broad shouldered. You have a moment of clarity in which it really sinks in that you are totally alone out on the quiet mountain with this man, and he really could do anything he wants with you.

The thought titillates more than it disturbs, and maybe you have a screw loose.

“You’re a cheeky girl, aren’t you?”

There is a look in his eye, and for a moment you think he’s going to bend down to you. Crazier yet, you would have let him. But his hands remain in the pockets of his expensive down coat. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make you feel as though he’s touched you, and you narrowly suppress a shudder.

It’s not because of the crisp mountain wind.

“So I’ve heard. I don’t like the cold,” you answer his real question. “But I do like the snow.”

He frowns a little. “How does that work out?”

“It’s an aesthetic thing.”

“Ah. Your artist’s eye.”

“I guess.”

“You’re very good.”

It is, in fact, freezing cold out there in the woods, but suddenly you feel warm, standing there with him, basking in his praise.

“You’re kind.”

He tilts his head, his hair falling in his eyes. “Not really,” he says, and it almost sounds like a warning. “But maybe, just for you. Can I walk with you?”

You were enjoying your solo excursion, but you find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to turn down the opportunity to spend time with your mysterious but favorite customer from the coffee shop.

“Ok. Are you making the loop?”

“Partly. My house isn’t far from the north fork of the trail.”

“Ah.” He must have just moved into one of the insanely expensive mansions tucked back in the woods, you reason.

It’s too cold to stand around and talk, so you hit the trail together. His legs are long, boy are they, but he matches his pace to stay with you. You don’t say much, but you enjoy each other’s company in the outdoors. You follow the line of a steep bluff on one side, old growth trees towering all around. It’s not a sunny day, but still bright from the freshly fallen snow. Later the forecast calls for more.

When you slide a little on an icy rock he makes a grab for you, and suddenly you do find yourself tucked in against the hard line of his side. It wasn’t entirely necessary—you’re wearing knobby boots, and you would have landed on your feet.

But it is endearing that he was worried for you.

The strength in his grip squeezing you steals your breath away. You only manage to get out a wheezy, “Thanks.”

He acknowledges your gratitude with a grumble, releasing you almost as quickly as he grabbed you. You get the sense that he is annoyed, somehow. You, however, know the memory of his body against yours is going to haunt your dreams that night.

Suddenly too warm, you unzip your jacket a little.

When you reach the trail marker for the north fork that will take him closer to home you look at him, expecting to say goodbye, certain he will be glad to be rid of you. But he keeps walking. “I'll get you to your car,” he says.

“You don't have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists. “If you don't mind?” He’s softened again to you, for whatever reason, and you swear his moods could give you whiplash. Having this man to yourself for another mile isn’t the worst way you've spent an afternoon.

“Ok, if you insist.”

When you get to the parking lot, there is a shifty pair of guys hanging out in a beat-up Dodge van that might as well have “FREE CANDY” spray painted on the side panel. You look to John curiously, who is staring down the driver with a hard look in his eyes. Even though that look isn’t directed at you, it gives you a little chill.

The man behind the wheel confers with his bearded companion, and they decide to start up and chug away.

You feel like you narrowly missed a passing danger, like a shark swum past your hiding spot in the reef.

“How... did you know?”

“Seen them around the past week or so. Maybe promise me no more solo hikes until they move on?”

“Yeah. Ok.” Maybe they were just two guys down on their luck hanging out in a van…but they definitely gave you the creeps.

“Can I give you a lift home?” He would have miles to go, uphill, in the bitter cold otherwise.

“Thanks.”

You pause at your late model Rav4, kind of embarrassed. He drives a very nice black Range Rover, and though your car is a soldier, bless all four of its cylinders, it kind of looks like a piece of shit. “Um...sorry,” you say, moving some books out of the passenger seat.

However, he seems non plussed.

“No worries. Thanks for the ride.”

You start the engine, letting it warm up a little. He rubs his hands together, blowing on his fingers. “So…do you pick up strangers from the woods often?”

You laugh quietly. “You’re not that strange.”

He tilts his head in that way that makes you feel unnervingly seen.

“You don't really know me, y/n.”

Why do you feel like he's trying to warn you?

“So... you’re saying I should make you walk back up the mountain in the freezing cold?”

His low laughter tugs at your insides, making unbidden warmth spread through you.

“No, now that I'm here that really doesn't sound appealing.”

You dare to wonder if he means here, with you.

“Ok then.” You put the Rav4 in drive. “Where are we headed?”

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick imagine

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wolfsrainrules · 10 months ago

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Stares off into the distance:

So.

Apparently my brain is just going to run along with various crossovers. Today, I bring you the thought of a John Wick fusion au (actually five differnet ones) with Batman/DC. (Again: a reminder that all my DC/Batman knowledge is fandom based)

@north-peach hellllppppp

Couple of thoughts for this.

The First: Janet Drake is one of the underworld's best. She's fantastic at manipulation and killing. She could walk herself out of a situation covered in blood, and convince people who saw it all happen that she never touched the body.

Tim grows up at her knee. He learns for the very best. And Janet teaches him everything she can- because despite the job and the crazy hours, and the travel, she loves her son. She wants to give him every opportunity to make it out alive from anything. Unharmed and not in trouble if possible, but alive most of all.

John Wick is a ghost story to the underworld. Tim has always been curious about people who could cause such a stir as his mother or John Wick might. When he meets him, he decides that man is Friend Shaped despite every sign saying Do Not. Despite every horror story saying it's a bad plan. (Much as he will later look at a story in a city of a cryptid said to be a manifestation of a city, a demon, a physical representation of all those who have died unavenged and decide the same)

More than that- John has ZERO idea how to handle Tim. He's a k i d. John's not gonna kill him for just...showing up all the time. It's not like he interferes or causes problems. In fact, he helps sometimes. Provides info, or a direction, a place to crash-

Tim confuses John.

Tim is also the very first to congratulate him, when he manages to get out of the underworld for Helen and mean it. To not even question the 'impossibility' of the Baba Yaga deciding he was done. John didn't bother to ask how Tim knew he'd left and why before the news actually broke out.

Tim watching John get out, go for it and SUCCEED is what gives him the courage to confess to his mother that he wanted to spend some time outside of the underworld, watching the curious case of Batman and Gotham. And Janet loves her son. So she arranges for it to be so.

They both know who Bruce Wayne is. Janet had figured it out before even Tim. She makes him promise that, if he needs her, he will call her, and lets him hunker in Gotham while he does what he wishes. She makes some trips back to Gotham, of course, but not so many that enemies can figure out there's someone important to her there. Janet is THE Femme Fatale. She has plenty of people who would go after her boy. And she's not having that.

Tim doesn't actually PLAN to get involved in vigilante life. At all. He's underworld born and bred. He's a survivor, manipulative, and can be a level of cunning and cold and ambitious that always makes his mother so so proud. He's not a do-right kind of person. He's not someone who does things for people outside of "me and mine" without a reason. Or if it goes against his moral code.

Except Jason Todd becomes one of "Me and Mine". He's a friend. A nosy vigilante who sees that his friend is alone and sets off his instincts as dangerous yes, but also as 'not a civilian' in a conventional sense. He's not a street rat, but he's not...normal either. And Tim? Tim, once he decides this Robin is his Robin, well he can't very well leave him undefended doing this ALONE can he? Though he understands by working with Robin, he cant use the tried and true methods of murder, as it could get pinned to Robin or Batman and he can't have that. If he wants to fly with Jason, he needs to fly by his rules. So a new vigilante is born that runs the streets with Robin. A little more vicious but in a cold and precise manner. Exacting. He doesn't let Jason go after his mother without doing the information gathering, and stops his death by Joker.

For a time, Tim finds himself pulled into the Wayne family, and he...thrives with them. He's happy. He learns under them. Expands his skillset, and still sent out to learn from people around the world. He is NOT fool enough to turn that away- his mother would somehow KNOW wherever she was if he turned down that kind of opportunity and he did not want to imagine the disappointment and response. NO THANK YOU.

When the underworld is kicked like a hornets' nest by John Wick coming back into the fold, Tim is...curious. He's kept an eye on John and Helen, if not stayed in direct and constant contact with them. He hadn't expected John to step foot back into the underworld.

And then his mother sends word to him, calls him back to the Continental, warns that the underworld is getting REALLY kicked up as a result. Tim...needs to go. He cannot imagine NOT answering his mother.

He arranges things on the Gotham end. Says temporary goodbyes and gets to the NY branch asap. Beats his mother there.

Makes it just in time to see John Wick pull a gun on Continental Grounds and shoot a newly crowned seat at the Table and is caught up in the chaos.

His family are going to end UP in the chaos themselves, because they will not cannot leave Tim in it alone. The connections Tim has are MUCH a surprise, he's done very well in hiding exactly what he used to do, and WHY he has a contact and hand in everything, and can ALWAYS get his family what they need. The Second: Tim Drake still grows up at Janet's knee. He learns it all. Thrives in it all. He ends up NOT going down the road of hitman or assassin or any number of things he could have done. Instead Tim Drake chooses to be a Information Broker that claims Gotham eventually, and by means of getting taken in by Bruce, the Wayne Manor and grounds around it become neutral grounds much like the Continental, if you want Tim's services to remain open to you. If you pull the underworld onto the ground...well. Just because Tim goes by Bruce's rules, and just because he PREFERS the route of nonviolence does not in any way mean he would not kill to protect it. To prove a point. To make a statement. To allow one to get away with it is to allow danger to his family and he WILL NOT, no matter that they all are perfectly capable of defending themselves. The Underworld is entirely different than their villains. To not kill the offender is to open themselves to weakness and targets. So Tim WILL.

Gotham is not Wayne Manor. The City is fair game to the underworld. Wayne Manor is NOT.

The Third:

Janet raises her boy at her knee still. Tim chooses the route of Doctor instead. He sets up in Gotham, and decides he likes the foolish vigilantes enough to step in when it's needed and save their lives. He becomes known to the Batfam as a Doc that will not ask questions, but is absolutely one of the most capable people they've seen. If Leslie isn't available, or not close enough, they go to Tim, if Tim doesn't find them, because he certainly seems to know when they need it.

The Batfam does sometimes find him having dealt with Some Things underworld involved so they are WORRIED about their idiot, despite the fact that Tim can and will Wreck everyone that causes problems in his area. He has also shown up stripping off blood covered scrub tops or whatever cause hes coming in hot from another healing thing, and they all wonder and worry and just- it's fine. Everything is fine.

They worry anyway.

Despite the fact that Tim has friends seemingly everywhere, from all walks of life, favors all over, and connections to seemingly everything as a result of his work. (He has absolutely been offered favors as payment, hits, assassinations and all sorts of things. He never turns them away. Janet taught him better. Instead he has markers and logs, books and written promises all stacked away. He remembers them all of course, but better to have written proof somewhere, something official. The Continental holds it for him.

The Fourth:

Gotham HAS a Continental Hotel due to all of its.....everything. Janet Drake runs it. Tim knows EVERYONE and everything, and has absolutely run the counter often. Bruce doesn't know what it is. Ra's absolutely does. Tim is the next to take over the branch and EVERYONE knows it.

He ends up occasionally, when people step on his morals, providing information to the Bat.

Jason managed to find his way inside by accident, and may or may not get himself heavily involved in the underworld even BEFORE the Red Hood thing.

The Fifth:

Same concept as 4 except BRUCE WAYNE runs the Continental and the ripples of everything therein.

#crossoverfun #john wick #batman #tim drake #crossover fun #look idk what happened #brain go brrrr #dc #long post

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aevellewritessometimes · 11 days ago

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Touchstarved OCs Part 1: Cal, the Forsaken Rapscallion (The Hound)

Content Warnings: Cal's backstory contains themes of alcohol abuse, child abuse, murder, toxic relationships, sexual coercion/dubious consent, depression, and suicide ideation. There are also mentions of gang activity and homelessness, although neither get as bright or a spotlight as the other topics.

A/N: I cannot draw so I just typed everything out and used a picrew. I also cannot guarantee that all details will remain the same once the full game comes out. There are also some extra details from the Backstory portion that I will later include in the reblogs. Also the wordcount for the Backstory is 4,369 words. Sorry about that, expect it to happen again.

Other: Devlin, the Deceitful Spellcaster (TBA), Shaliah, the Wayward Prophet (TBA), Pulls and Appeals (TBA)

"The heart is a fool, always follow your head."

Playlist: YouTube {} YT Music

Character Bio

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthday: 01/12

Height: 5'4/162cm

Personality: Sociable Nihilist

Likes: Shiny trinkets, wood carving, high places, bustling atmospheres, dogs, spicy food

Dislikes: Winter, pushy people, disloyal people, the rich, being unable to sleep, yelling, drunkenness

Fatal Flaw: Once she becomes close to someone, it becomes nearly impossible for her to acknowledge that person's flaws as flaws

Other: Is a godawful flirt

Stats

Strength: 1

Luck: 2

Wisdom: 3

Healthy Coping Mechanisms: 1

Persuasiveness: 4

While Cal is more than capable of handling herself in a brawl or knife fight, she much prefers to rely on her silver tongue instead. Perhaps it's because it's the only silver thing she has left.

Flower: Black Rose

Mourning

Change

Revenge

Extra

Cal's full name is Calypso, but Cal is unaware of this.

The reason for why I chose the name Calypso is because it means "to conceal." However, in order to avoid the character being associated with the myth (seeing as I did not create her with the intent of having parallels), I chose to shorten her name to Cal. But it worked out in the end anyway, since the name Cal means "devotion."

Cannot read very well.

Cal does know thieves cant (19th century thief slang).

In the Fatal Flaw category, what I meant by "acknowledge flaws as flaws" was that while she can see a person's flaws, she will not see them as flaws. For example, if her loved one were to kill someone for no valid reason, Cal wouldn't try to say that they would never do that but instead would say that the victim probably deserved it for one reason or another.

Hates having to live at the Wet Wick and wishes to move somewhere else as soon as possible. This remains a fact even if she gets together with Leander.

Absolutely adores Princess, but it did take a minute for Cal to warm up to her.

Has a horrible case of RBF.

She has a British accent. Her home city is very 19th century London coded in terms of culture and aesthetic.

Would've been taller if she hadn't grown up malnourished.

Has the immune system of a God.

Favorite color is red, but her favorite color to wear is black.

Her spice tolerance is shit, she just likes that spicy stuff can make her feel something.

Excellent at parkour.

Allergic to cats. Is also a cat magnet.

Her hair isn't dyed, the picrew used just didn't have an option for red eyebrows

Backstory

The city called New Lovent is known for its artists, although that's really about it. Despite the city's namesake, it isn't nearly as large or busy as the founders intended for it to be. Probably because of how superstitious some people are, but most likely because of the horrible wealth-power imbalance.

Calypso was born in New Lovent's poor district. She had a brother, Greer, who was six years older than her, along with her happily married parents; Denise and Linus

Unfortunately, Denise was cursed; if anyone were to touch her hands, they would go mad with bloodlust.

When Denise was pregnant with Greer, she and Linus were both very cautious when it was time to birth him, since she didn't know if the curse could be passed down.

But then, when Greer was born clean of any curses, the two simply assumed the mother's curse wasn't genetic.

And so, once it was time for Calypso to be born, the parent’s were much less cautious. This cost Linus his sanity and his life.

Calypso's life only went downhill from there.

Denise regularly switched between blaming herself or blaming Calypso for the father's tragic end. In order to try and distract herself from this, the mother took up drinking. Some days this made it better, but it usually just made things worse for both children.

Especially since it had gotten to the point where the mother couldn't even hold a stable job.

Little Calypso was too young to understand much of anything that was going on, but Greer had a somewhat better grasp on the situation.

As a matter of fact, he seemed to know too much.

Denise frequently went on drunken rants with Greer as an unwilling audience. More often than not, the topic was how she blamed little Calypso for Linus’s death and how much she hated the girl for it.

Greer wasn't able to see how it could've been Calypso's fault; she was just a baby, after all. What he could see, however, was exactly how much their mother hated her.

Another thing Greer knew was that Calypso was the name of a character from one of his favorite stories that his parents would read to him a while before his sister was even born. She never mentioned why, and Greer wasn't old enough to fully understand, but the mother held a very strong hatred towards the Calypso from the story.

Greer was a clever boy. He figured that his sister's name was a result of that hatred. Greer didn't want his sister to grow up believing she was meant to be hated. So, he started to just call her "Cal" instead.

For the next four years, Greer did everything he could to try and help what was left of his family. If his mother couldn't hold a job, he would go around to try and find anyone willing to hire a ten-year-old. If his mother was in a mood, he would try to calm her down so she didn't take it out on Cal, or he would just take her to work with him. As long as it wasn't dangerous, anyway.

It was enough to put food on the table, but not enough for rent. The only thing that kept them from ending up on the streets was the fact that their landlord didn't want to be the one to kick a single mother and her children out onto the streets.

It was enough for them to survive. But it only took another year for everything to change.

Cal wasn't quite sure of what had happened. One moment, she was just trying to sleep. Then her mother was angry again. Then Greer was standing over her with a blood-covered glass bottle. And then they were running.

Greer wasn't fully sure what happened either. He came home from another job. His mother was yelling and Cal was screaming. Cal was covered in blood. His mother was holding a knife. He knocked her over and grabbed the first thing he could reach. Then he grabbed Cal's hand and fled from their apartment.

What actually happened? The mother got drunk again, but it was much worse this time around; as if she had been affected by her own curse. She went for Cal while wielding a knife and aimed for the face, striking near her lips. Cal tried to get away, but she tripped and fell, resulting in a bloody nose. Greer entered at that moment, and he reacted in Cal's defense. Then, not knowing what to do, he grabbed Cal and they ran, taking nothing with them.

The two children had very different reactions once the shock wore off:

Cal didn't know what having a loving mother was like. From her perspective, she didn't lose an abuser, she just lost her mom. And her brother, the only person who had ever been kind to her and the only person left to care for her, was the one who landed the blow.

Greer on the other hand had no idea what he was meant to feel. He just killed his mother. He saved his sister's life. His mother was a horrible person. His mother was a loving person, once upon a time. He was a monster. He was a hero.

It took a few weeks of living on the streets, but eventually, Greer was able to find a new place for them to live. All he and Cal had to do was work in their new landlord's bakery up the road.

It was mostly quiet for the next seven years.

Cal seemed to have blocked out the memory of that night, but Greer never got over it. He turned cold, and was no longer kind to Cal. It got to the point where him calling his sister Cal was nothing more than a habit.

Poor Cal thought nothing of it. She didn't know she was supposed to think anything of it.

At least, not until Greer took up drinking, anyway.

It wasn't nearly as bad as their mother's habit, but it was bad enough for Cal.

She didn't remember much from when her mother was alive, but she remembered the smell of the alcohol, along with the yelling that always seemed to follow.

She wasn't sure why it scared her. What she did know is that she was afraid. And what did she do the last time she had felt some kind of fear?

She ran away, leaving everything behind.

She was stuck out on the streets for months afterwards. It was a struggle to find any permanent spot: the part of the poor district that was furthest away from her brother gave her an odd feeling—especially since one of its residents was always staring at her whenever he saw her–-and all of the wealthier districts were strict about keeping the homeless away.

There were several times where she contemplated just going back, especially since it had turned winter, and New Lovent's winters were particularly harsh.

She caught a break when she happened across a small gang located in one of the alleyways that separated the wealthy district from the poor district.

Most of the gang wanted to kill Cal for trespassing on their turf, especially since they were just discussing a heist. But the leader, Leontyne, decided Cal could potentially be useful.

In exchange for her life, Cal would be used as a diversion whenever they needed. Since the gang needed to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't run off and snitch, she was allowed to sleep in their area. And if a job went particularly well, they would feed her. They never gave her any form of currency, though.

It wasn't much, but it was better than her previous conditions and therefore it was good enough for Cal.

One member of the gang, Dolus, was a boy her age. He wasn't exactly kind, but he was friendly towards her.

Cal had no idea how he managed to become affiliated with the gang. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, either. But she also really didn't care very much, since Dolus's friendliness actually worked out in her favor.

He decided to teach her a few of the tricks that he learned from his time in the gang. Things like how to snag something off a market stall unnoticed, how to pick a lock or pocket, how to lie, how to cry on demand, and how to throw a punch.

Cal tried not to make use of that last skill. The last thing she needed was for her to accidentally touch someone mid-fight.

Over the years, Dolus managed to get the rest of the gang to accept her into their ranks. Cal didn't know why Dolus decided to help her. She didn't question it nearly as much as she probably should've, especially once it eventually became clear that his role was the con man.

For once in her life, Cal almost went a full decade without anything terrible happening to her. Sure, she went through her fair share of stab wounds, arrests, and other close calls. But her new gang had her back, she had consistent access to food, shelter, and money, and... well, she had Dolus.

Cal was old enough to understand the concept of flirting these days. She was clearly able to tell that Dolus was flirting with her during their downtime. What she wasn't able to tell was if he was being genuine. After all, flirting was a common tactic he used in his acts.

But she wasn't able to dwell on that for very long. Not after she just got their leader killed.

It was just a simple break-in. Simple enough that only Cal, Dolus, and Leontyne were needed. But then it all went wrong; the lock was a bit more stubborn than anticipated and the guard was ahead of schedule. And then when they fled, Cal just happened to slip while scaling a roof.

And Leontyne tried to save her by grabbing her hand.

Cal never told the gang about her curse. She didn't want to risk being kicked out for it. And at some point during the chase, one of her gloves apparently had acquired a tear.

Leontyne, now affected by the curse, tried to pull Cal onto the roof just so she could literally skin her alive.

Fortunately, Dolus was there. And clearly much better at climbing.

He managed to shove the leader off of the roof and drag Cal away from the edge. They both watched in stunned silence as the guard discovered a mad and injured thief in the alleyway.

As their leader was dragged away, Dolus pulled a knife out on Cal, ordering her to explain. And once he received her explanation, he then immediately turned to blackmail.

Apparently, he wasn't as loyal to their leader as he made himself look. As far as he was concerned, this was nothing but a great opportunity. All he needed was for Cal to vouch for him when once they reunited with the rest of the gang.

And, with the threat of them learning of how she got Leontyne arrested—and later executed due to her madness—and about her curse, vouch she did.

As far as the rest of the gang knew, their previous leader had tried to turn in Cal and Dolus for her freedom, and she was killed for her betrayal.

And it turns out that Dolus was much more respected than the others let on, because now he was their leader.

Life was... oddly normal after that. Except now, Dolus's flirtations was accompanied by little teases about their little secret.

But his flirtings and teasings just became more and more frequent for the next two years. And then, he decided to blackmail Cal again, this time into being his.

And now, Cal's mostly happy life began to crumble. She already liked Dolus before they were "official," but she didn't like being in this situation unwillingly. She couldn't help but be fond of his affectionate act, which he put on both in public and private, but she was painfully aware of his true motives beneath the facade.

Anytime she tried to indulge in a hobby that didn't interest (read: revolve around) him, he would put down both her and the activity itself. He wouldn't even tolerate the woodcarving hobby that she only took an interest in all those years ago because of him.

And of course, there was the sex. Never once did he try to force himself on her, but he would sometimes make a few comments about spilling the secret if she continued to say no...

It was around this time that she almost began to miss her life from before. Even if Greer pretty much refused to talk to her unless necessary, at least he wasn't actively hurting her. And what about her mother and father? She had no memory of them, but parents are supposed to be loving, aren't they?

It was about a year into this relationship when Cal met another thief and eventual friend: Canagan.

It was a break-in. It wasn't a formal job, Cal just wanted some extra spending money, so she went on her own. Canagan just happened to have picked the same house. She was rooting through the owner's jewelry box upstairs while he was putting as much food from the downstairs kitchen as he could possibly fit into one knapsack.

They both met in the stairwell.

Cal wasn't quite sure what to do in this situation. Usually, she'd just stab first and question later. But this wasn't just another guy, it was a kid. She'd never been in a situation where she had to hurt a child!

The younger thief looked just as confused as she did.

And then the homeowner returned.

The thieves just looked at the man for a moment, and then they took off upstairs and out a window.

It took a few blocks of running for them to stop and question why they were running the same way and what they should do about each other essentially stealing the other's mark.

After a few moments of arguing, they agreed to a compromise: Cal would trade what appeared to be the cheapest piece of jewelry for whatever piece of food seemed to be closest to going rotten.

And then they parted ways and never crossed paths again... until a week later.

Dolus decided that the gang needed a new diversion now that Cal was unofficially promoted. And since he didn't want to give the job to someone that young, despite the fact that he joined up at the age of eight, he decided to hand the job over to an older kid.

That kid just so happened to be Canagan.

He and Cal pretended not to know each other. Dolus noticed something was up, but said nothing.

After the initial awkwardness, Cal and Canagan ended up becoming quite close. As friends and nothing more, despite what someone else in the gang tried to imply.

(Cal was firm in the fact that she and Canagan would be no more than friends. Aside from the fact that the kid was, well, a kid, Cal had eavesdropped on enough people to know just how messy affairs were. And that's just talking about the ones where blackmail wasn't involved. And there was no way in the Shroud that Canagan would even be interested in a woman to begin with, but that's not relevant.)

After two years of Dolus putting up the friendly act once again for their newest recruit, the gang decided to take him to a bar for his eighteenth birthday so he could have his first drink.

Cal hated the idea of her new and only real friend turning into a drunk, but she was unable to cite any logical reason for them not to go through with this.

And Canagan, it turns out, was nothing but a lightweight. Two shots in and he was almost completely conked out.

Cal stayed with him to make sure nobody tried anything while he fought off the drowsiness. And he apparently had some things to confess while he was too out of it to pay attention to his words. It was mostly just a jumble of words that probably made more sense to him than anyone listening, but Cal managed to catch two coherent thoughts:

One of those being that he had a younger sister who was murdered years ago, and that he thought she would've been a lot like Cal if she had been given a chance at growing up. The second thought being that he could see that Cal was unhappy with Dolus, and didn't understand why she'd stay with him.

Cal had no clue how to react to how sad and concerned Canagan looked and sounded when those two thoughts came out. Despite all she learned from the gang, had no idea how to make herself comforting. So, instead she just changed the topic.

Cal's mind lingered on this for weeks. It had been so long since someone genuinely cared for her, after all, especially since she couldn't even remember when that was...

The next few months went by as usual: some successful heists, some failed heists, Dolus being nice to the rest of the gang to their faces and shit talking them when alone with Cal, Dolus playing nice with Cal, Dolus coercing Cal, the usual routine...

...Until Canagan decided to meddle.

For the past few months, Canagan had formed a hobby of eavesdropping on Cal and Dolus's conversations. And one of those... "conversations" happened to be another incident of Cal being more resistant than usual while Dolus was equally persistent.

Canagan heard enough to figure out that Cal was being blackmailed, but he didn't know what that blackmail was. He didn't care, either.

All he wanted was for Cal to get out of that situation.

And he directly told her this the moment he thought nobody else would be able to hear.

At first, Cal refused his help. Part of her was afraid that he would betray her, too; that he just wanted her in his debt or that Dolus was using him as a trap. Part of her was afraid that Dolus would do something to hurt one or both of them if he found out. Part of her was afraid of her life being uprooted all over again.

Five years is what it took for Canagan to successfully convince Cal to trust him; to get her to agree to his plan on getting her out.

During those five years, Canagan had started pocketing extra funds from jobs and heists. He also listened into more of the talks Dolus had with Cal, gleaning for information and how often he would coerce Cal into sleeping with him.

And of course, five years of picking up details for the perfect heist.

Canagan managed to find out about a curious little artifact from one of the noble houses: a strange ring found on the outskirts of Old Lovent. Whoever wore the little thing allegedly gained the ability to communicate with crows.

And knowledge this supposedly magic ring managed to, not just make it out of New Lovent, but reach the ears of the Senobium all the way over in Eridia.

And the Senobium was willing to pay generously for ownership of the ring.

Canagan presented the details to Dolus, and then the plans for the heist began.

It took a whole year of smaller heists, mark scouting, and scheduling just to be able to go through with the big heist. And, if the information was correct, then Cal and Canagan's cut (plus Canagan's extra shillings) would be more than enough for the two of them to get out of the city and far away from Dolus.

Far enough for them both to start a new life, one where their livelihoods didn't have to depend on stealing from and occasionally murdering others.

Or at least, that's how it would be for Canagan.

While Cal did give Canagan some insight on what Dolus had over her, she only told him a few vague details of how she got the gang's previous leader killed. She didn't tell him of her curse. Her plan was to wait until they were both out of the city and they both had the coin split between them before she told him about it, just in case.

But neither of their plans ever had any real chance of coming to fruition.

All seemed to have gone well. The heist was a success, and Canagan's information about how much money was given for the ring was correct.

But, unfortunately, Dolus was aware of Canagan and Cal's true plans from the past six years. He simply just played ignorant to it.

But just before the heist, he intentionally arranged for Cal and Canagan to be separated from the rest gang, just long enough for him to spin a tale:

He told the rest of the gang that it was Cal who killed their previous leader all those years ago. That she had seduced him into defending her, and allowed him to lead as a consolation prize. That, for all the years they had been together, it was just her manipulating him into loving her. That she had betrayed him by getting together with Canagan, and now both of them were planning to get rid of the whole gang and take the prize money for themselves.

He didn't even need to weave a tale about her curse to get the gang riled up.

Dolus ordered them to pretend that they knew nothing. He wanted Cal and Canagan to think they had actually gotten away with their plan.

And believe it the pair did.

Perhaps, if they had been on their guard, the odds would've been in their favor.

The gang did teach Canagan how to fight, although he never managed to do well at it. He was cornered and disarmed in no time.

Cal had spent over half of her life with the gang, and she practically had their attack pattern memorized by heart. She was able to escape them, but they did manage to get a good hit on her.

She didn't know that Canagan was still with the rest of them. She thought he escaped with her and chose to split up. It would've been the logical choice, after all.

Instead, after hours of hiding out and attempting to treat her own wounds, she was forced to find that his body was strung up just off the Jailer's Wall.

If only she knew...

Something in Cal seemed to have frozen at the sight. It felt like her mind knew that if she were to feel anything, then it would kill her.

So, Cal shoved whatever grief she should've felt off to the side, and got to work.

She knew that if Dolus knew of the plan, he likely knew of where the extra money was hidden. Chances were, he was probably waiting for her there.

So instead, she took to robbery.

For the rest of the day, she quickly broke into any house that seemed even somewhat expensive, swept the place for any coin or jewelry that could easily be used for bribes or foods that wouldn't spoil immediately; all of which she stored in a knapsack she had stolen from the first house she broke into.

Her next step was to get out of the city.

After a few more days of break-ins and laying low, she managed to bribe a traveling circus troupe to give her a ride out to their next performance location using some of the stolen jewelry.

From there, she bribed caravan after caravan and traveled town to town, searching for the one that would get her to what was supposed to be her and Canagan's first stop: Eridia.

Surely the city which housed the Senobium, who prided itself on being the source of everything there is to know, would have some kind of idea on how to cure her curse.

Throughout the months of traveling, the grief and guilt she felt over Canagan's death had only grown and festered. But it wasn't just grief for him, though.

It was grief that she had shoved aside while with Dolus. It was grief from when she was a child and didn't know why Greer seemed to have stopped loving her. It was grief from the fact that she has no idea of what her parents were like or who they were. It was an older grief she couldn't put a source to.

It all made her feel as if something in her was rotting away.

She felt that if she were lucky it would be her heart.

It seemed that only two fates lied in store for those whom she loved: death or betrayal.

She loved her parents, as far as she's aware, and they're dead. She loved Greer, and he practically abandoned her. She loved Dolus, and he used it against her. She loved Canagan, and now he's dead.

He's dead because she left him there to die. He used her because she was naive. He abandoned her because there was something wrong with her. They're probably dead because of her too.

So logically, if she were incapable of love, then she wouldn't have to lose anyone.

If she were incapable of love, then nobody would be able to hurt her. Not in a way that mattered, at least.

It was a foolish choice to fall in love. She swore to herself that it would not be one she'd ever make again.

"The heart is a fool, always follow your head." It sounded crude, but it was her new philosophy upon finally managing to bribe a caravan to take her to Eridia.

It was imperative that she stuck to it. Why? Because somehow she knows that if she were to have her heart broken again, if she were to feel any more grief from a love lost, then it would be her breaking point.

And she did not come this far just to die from a broken heart, of all things...

#touchstarved oc lore #touchstarved oc #touchstarved mc #touchstarved game

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irregodless · 26 days ago

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popular is actually a very important song to the themes in wicked. even the wizard confirms them

glinda tells elphaba that political figures and social influencers arent those who are the most qualified, theyre the ones who are most accepted. ol oscar echoes this later by telling elphaba history is just the perspective of the favorable. whether or not youre regarded as a protector or a tyrant has everything to do with your pr and who ends up coming out on top

in fact he even goes so far as to say yeah we all know even our celebrated leaders are kinda shit BUT we choose not to acknowledge it. because its easier that way. which is how oz functions at a whole which plays into how maguire played with how it was viewed in the book. the wizard of oz is a magical fantastical place! because dorothy is a child. because the ozians want to show off their best. maguire notes how even the emerald city was filled with slums and ghettos. but are you going to show that to a visitor? is a child from kansas going to know how to pick out vagrants or prostitutes? the wizard of oz was created to be enjoyed by children and so maguire writes the land to, by its leaders, be callow and immature even in its handling of mature issues. its part of why you get such silly wacky fantasy names in a story about. well. A Lot.

oh hes a winkie from the western vinkus isnt that so silly >w<!! We Are Committing Eugenics Against Animals

glinda points this out to elphaba. by having a visceral emotional reaction she has ruined her cause. i dont think even in the books she had any sympathizers that werent Animals. but she needs more than the side of the oppressed to make cause. glinda would have been her best pr manager. elphaba COULD have swallowed her pride and played along with the wizard. i mean after all she has actual magic and he only has parlor tricks. but thats not in her character and is arguably a fatal character flaw of hers

that is until you consider glinda. glinda sympathizes with elphaba at least to some extent. and we see her gain great success... but she still only holds up the status quo. would elphaba have been able to slip out of the political trappings to actually reform oz from the inside? or would the background players like morrible who are also in control subdued her

glinda certainly didnt end up changing anyones minds. not even when she tried to make people have empathy for elphaba by explaining how she had a family and childhood like anyone elses. of course... ephabas family having religious and political Eminence probably didnt help the lower classes who elphaba should have been able to appeal to easily view her favorably

"its not about aptitude, its the way youre viewed" well elphaba already knows how shes viewed. shes so keenly aware she has an entire speech she starts ranting off the minute she introduces herself to anyone. she doesnt want to play along with this game of optics because shes been losing it her whole life and has been victimized by it

she idolized the wizard. she viewed the wizard as the way to absolve how shes perceived. but when she sees the man behind the curtain she doesnt want that anymore. she CANT want it anymore as she says. now that she cant rely on oscar... shes given up on the concept that anyone could make her be viewed favorably. and so she takes the road that makes HER happy. its not the most effective one and its not the comfortable one but its the one that doesnt jeopardize her morals and values and doesnt keep her grounded

she died a villain who couldnt do much for her cause beyond terrorism and being an antaognistic force for the wizard who otherwise would have faced no pushback but she died being true to herself and not changing herself like how everyone in oz wanted her to

and yet did she actually not achieve anything? the world needs a scapegoat, after all. oscar said so himself. elphaba didnt stop the cruelty against animals completely, but she gave oz a new player to target their hate against. and in this way she also manages to undermine oscars power if only slightly

to quote twisted which itself was inspired by wicked:

What remains of a man when that man is dead and gone? Only memories and stories of his deeds will linger on, but if a man's accomplishments aren't in the tale they tell, are the deeds that go unheralded his legacy as well? [...] The question then is whether 'tis nobler in the mind to be well-liked but ineffectual, or moral but maligned? I'll never be the hero all the citizens adore, but if I hide to save my life, what has my life been for?

#i kinda weaved in and out of the musical and the book but despite the drastic differences i feel like some core principals remain #wicked #let them twist my words let the people scorn me who cares if no one will ever mourn me let them bury the side of the story theyll never lea #theres also something to be said about him being her father but the post is long enough #principles*

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rentedvsl · 3 months ago

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honest question: do you believe that people who have raped children should be forgiven? i just cant believe the idea that God would want me to "forgive" someone who hurt me like that multiple times throughout my childhood. i can forgive all the sins committed against me except that one, because that one is just... so much worse than anyone else understands.

sorry if this question is more than you can handle. i saw a post where you talked about God wanting us to forgive, and i just honestly want to know, do you think people who have raped children should be forgiven for what they have done?

Hi there! Thank you for asking this question, as heavy as it may be. This is definitely a difficult topic.

Mark‬ ‭11‬:‭25‬ says, “And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”

According to God's word, we are called to forgiveness. That includes the things that feel impossible to forgive or the things we feel don't deserve to be forgiven. People treated Jesus in corrupt and immoral ways while He was here on earth as a man. Things happened to Him that He did not deserve in any shape or form. They beat him, mocked him, flogged and tortured Him... He was stripped bare of his humanity and dignity as they cast lots for his clothing & degraded Him in every way that they could. These men were wicked. They were unaware of how corrupted they had really become, they were slaves to their own evil thoughts. When they hung Him on that cross, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing..." Luke‬ ‭23‬:‭34‬ ‭

‭‭God does not agree with what happened to you. He does not condone it or want to brush it to the side and ignore it. In the Bible when Lazarus died, we see that Jesus wept, even though he knew Lazarus would raise from the dead & was already aware of the eventual good outcome. But when Jesus sees the people weeping, he is described as “deeply disturbed in spirit.” Your pain, your hurt, your mourning... it moves the Lord & he weeps with you. He understands. He knows why you're angry and broken from what happened. He doesn't blame you... He wants to heal you.

Forgiveness doesn't mean that we stop hurting completely. Forgiveness doesn't mean that we no longer feel angry, or no longer question why things happened, or feel broken and bitter from it. We are human. Forgiveness is the act of releasing someone from the debt of their sin against you, meaning you no longer hold it against them. Forgiveness says, "i acknowledge this and the pain it caused. but like my Father did on the cross, i choose mercy. i release you."

Forgiveness is just as much for you as it is for your debtor. Matter of fact, I think you will find it is actually far more powerful for you than them. What happened to you was intended for harm, but God is a great redeemer. He wants to transform your suffering into glory, your mourning into dancing; take whats broken & make it beautiful. (Gen. 50:20). He longs to hold you, heal you, hear you.

The idea of forgiving this person may feel overwhelming, incorrect, or even impossible. But take heart, what is impossible with man is possible with God. (Luke‬ ‭18‬:‭27‬). Under the wings of the Lord you will find refuge. He will restore parts of you that you thought you may have lost forever.

Anon, you will be in my prayers. Please don't hesitate to reach out for anything & know that you are abundantly loved.

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years ago

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TOP 5 SPIDERS/PHANTOM TROUPE GO GO GO

Full disclosure I am still only on the auction part so I’m sure i haven’t met all of the spiders yet !!

1. FEITAN

he is my favorite spider without a doubt. I cant help it, he’s literally babygirl who will cut your head off with his bare hands. When I tell you his raspy little moany voice makes me want to commit ATROCITIES I MEAN ITTTTT!!!! he’s a ruthless little thing, and I think he’d blush seeing his cock between my tiddies—

2. UVOGIN

I know I used this gif in another post they’re probably sick of seeing me in their notifications BUUUT how to describe my obsession with how fuckin BIG AND STINKY AND STRONG AND PRIMAL THIS MAN IS

i would like one ( 1 ) minute without air, suffocated under his hairy, sweaty balls. just one, that’s all I ask. I BEG

3. SHALNARK

Sunshine and dandelions, severed heads and blood 🥺🥰 HES SO CUTE. And I’m sorry but blonde anime bitches are the weakness I CANNOT HELP IT the fact that he’s so wicked but also so soft is almost too much for me to handle

4. PHINKS

WHAT IF

I WANTED TO GO TO HEAVEN

BUT GOD SAID

YOU ARE OBSESSED WITH BLONDE ANIME MEN

He’s suuuchhh a dick ( affectionate ) and I feel like he would spit in my mouth in public. I like it.

Bro

Number 5 was tough because CHROLLO IS SEXY but I haven’t learned anything about him yet

So I’m sorry but here it is

5. HISOKA

In the wise wise words of Hollywood Undead, I’m

HORNY AS FUCK, PRESSING MY LUCK

i know he’s rotten like ALL THE WAY TO HIS CORE

But he’s so sexy 🥺

#maguroni my beloved 💟#I KNOW YOURE DISAPPOINTED FOR HISOKA BAYBEE #however comma be disappointed in the creators and not me I am not the one that made him so —#TEMPTING

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avesgraveyard · 2 years ago

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Avery, oh my god I think I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter like I love it but I cried through most of it and it frickin hurt

(I think I need to stop relating so much to Evan lolll-)

I cried through like the first fourth or third or this and then I was like oh maybe things are getting better but NO back to tears

DORCAS I LOVE HER SM I WANT HER SHES JUST SO WHOLESOME AND KIND AND I CANT WAIT FOR THE DORLENE CHAPTER DORCAS MAKES ME FEEL THINGS

“Me and Barty? Talk about feelings? Our feelings? Yeah, that’ll work out.” me with literally everyone ever lolll

Evans getting so frustrated and worked up over this and it hurts so much WHY Avery why do you have have to make me FEEL THESE THINGS

“This being the monumentally huge crush I’ve had on my best friend for– what– years now? The one I thought I had under control?”😭😭😭

stupid pretty Italian boys and their wicked heart-stealing ways. This whole thing made me cry so much but this made me laugh for some reason-

But poor Evan baby oh my god how he’s loved Evan for years and Barty never noticed him like that and that’s fine or whatever sad but okay

But then Evan felt like if he did all THAT to himself it would Barty love him baby no and that no one noticed for awhile until Dorcas but then how she helps him through it and Reggie when noticed god these friends make me so soft but that Barty didn’t really notice or didn’t seem too 😭😭😭😭😭

No, Evan. I think it makes you human.” DORCASSSS

Okayyyy Barty needs to be careful with ev like I get why ur mad but be carefulll but I guess he kinda does deserve to be angry to an extent bc like he just realized he’s in love with Evan??? And then he ran off but evan kinda did too but also evan almost kissed him??? How’s Barty supposed to take that???

Lolll evan one paragraph he’s actually kinda scared and then the next- hmmmm Barty needs a haircut

if Regulus was single– noooooooooooo

Evan making valid points tryna protect himself but he also just hurting them both

“ Please , Evan, just one. I’ll make it good for you, promise.”😢

Barty switched so fast from SCREW YOU LETS TALK to we should kiss 😏

and ev’s running again…..

When he punches Pandora plsssss

I thought you were– like fucking robbing me or something. EVANNNN

Marlene. Ring so cheerful not even noticing pandoras gushing blood at firstttt

“Subtle, James,” like always!!!

Silence. Evan looks up. Not one person is looking him in the eye, in fact, they’re all looking at his chest. Evan glances down. He can’t see anything. He glances back up. No one's eyes have moved.

“What? Have I got something on me?” He looks back down, then up again.

Barty is the first one to break the silence, standing in the corner of the room, with his arms folded over his bare chest, a pair of sweat pants hung low on his hips, a lethal smirk and a hungry glint in his eyes. Evan doesn’t think he can handle any of this at this time in the morning. Or ever, for that matter. “No, baby, there’s nothing there. You’ve just got a nice… physique, is all. We’re just appreciating it in all of its shirtless glory.”

okay first of all I SCREECHED and that Evan not even realizing but then Barty being soooo taunting he’s going to get what he wants and he knows it-

but the implication that evans doing so much better physically at least maybe then he was seventeen/eighteen yesssss

“What? Have I got something on me?” He looks back down, then up again.

Sure enough, Regulus’ gaze is raking approvingly over Evan’s torso, Marlene is grinning at him like she’s a shark and he’s her next meal, and James actually has a string of drool coming down from the corner of his mouth, concern for Pandora apparently forgotten. Evan suddenly has the urge to reach for the throw on the back of the sofa and wrap it around himself securely. Is he ashamed of his body? No, of course not. He’s worked hard to get like this, and he’s overcome a lot of things, physically and mentally, but the way Barty is currently looking at him makes him feel, well– a bit indecent.

AHHH THE REACTIONS OF EVERYONEEEE

(And then bartyyyyyy)

“Evan, you actually ran away when I tried to get you to have a chat about your feelings. Evidently, conversation won’t work. But that’s okay baby, I’ve got other methods. We’ll work it out eventually.” Okay then Barty ….

WONDERFUL as usual, Avery, you really know how to get me right in the feels and even though I cried half the time I loved this so much. Dorcas and evans relationship is so awesome and I love them Pandora oh my gosh I love her and I can’t wait to see how Barty tries to get Evan bc it’s going to be hilarious and it’s also going to hurt lol

ily, thank you so much!!!

dude this is so nice of you actually teared up,

this chapter was a mess, acsolutley 100% a brain malfunction on a page. but it was probably the easiest chapter to write. evan and dorcas' relationship was SO important in this, because Barty? Barty has Evan for when things get rough, and Pandora, and Regulus. And while, yes, evan also has barty, there are just some things he cannot tell him. so he goes to dorcas, like an older sister- younger brother relationship.

i get that after we hear evans story we're all kinda pissed at barty for being so brash about things, but he DOESNT KNOW. i just love writing their emtions, they're so much fun.

i so appreciate this you have no idea <333

#averyanswersasks #rosekiller roadtrip au

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paper-mario-wiki · 2 years ago

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NAME: Kippyr Wulton

HANDLE: eclecticConservator

TYPING QUIRK: "shortenin stuff where i can. cant be typin all day. you got somethin for me? spit it out. i got somethin for you? i'll keep it to three sentences or less."

(Preference towards shortened sentences with clipped words. They prefer brevity and function in communication over flourish and theatrics.)

LUNAR PREFERENCE: Derse Dreamer

CLASSPECT: Seer of Mind

Your name is KIPPYR WULTON. You live in a SHACK in the WOODS. You've always preferred a life of privacy, and you love all of the not worrying about being killed in your sleep that not living in a city affords you.

Another perk of your rural living choices is the absolute wealth of STUFF in the willderness. COLLECTING and APPRECIATING all of your WICKED COOL TREASURE gives you life. You tend to have a keen eye for value in what others might see as usless. Your friends often call you a KLEPTOMANIAC and a HOARDER, but you prefer to see yourself as an APPRAISER and CURATOR. This interest of yours is fueled by the fact that the woods surrounding your house are jam-packed with DUNGEONS and CRYPTS, ripe for the picking! You can't keep everything in your pockets, even if you are wearing your iconic TWO JACKETS, so you try not to leave the house without your trusty SATCHEL.

Whenever you're not plundering and indexing your many prizes and curios, you're otherwise a HABITUAL DABBLER. You absolutely love getting little tastes of everything. Yesterday you picked up beatboxing. The week before that you were learning to weld. Tomorrow, who knows! You've heard that SPEEDRUNNING is pretty fun, maybe you'll get into that. Most of the time, however, you tend to just FUCK AROUND and PHILOSOPHIZE about utter bullshit. Everything is connected somehow, and you love to TRACK PATTERNS in all things.

Kippyr's main ability is their research and development into the RPS chart, which is of course an ontologically infallibe rulebook to the warring forces of the universe (it's Rock Paper Scissors).

At the start of the story, the RPS chart is fairly small, looking something like this.

Though as their session continues it grows larger and larger, until it contains a comprehensive list if all things (physical and conceptual) in the universe, including how they connect and interact with each other.

Kippyr's strength is that they can access anything they might need in their satchel, which is eventually upgraded to act as effectively infinite hammer space.

As a Seer of Mind player, they break down problems into steps and work backwards until they have a solution. Most of their session involves progressively crazier and more bombastic reveals, like how they figured out "Two-ton steel porcupine" instantly beats "Gate 1 boss, Tr'ullia Gobmaw", or the shocking reveal that the perfect counter to "Lock carved by the ancients" was, in fact, "Napkin folded up into a paper frog and set on the ground for a week".

Studying this list is something Kippyr dedicates YEARS of their life to. Their end-game gear allows them to access different volumes of knowledge stored on external mental hard drives, as their limited mortal mind couldn't possibly understand the RPS fractal all at the same time. Also, when they need to fetch an ID number for an item on the chart, it's represented by a double-sided barcode printed out on an old timey stock ticker.

Also here's their planet.

It's 2023. It's time to make a new trollsona.

#reply #homestuck

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bluebellswood · 1 year ago

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MahoYaku main story 1 reread

Rambles for myself so I can look back on it. Will probably add as it goes.

i missed out a lot of things looking back and ?? now i read some parts and wonder if i am reading too much into things then i remember who wrote this and what happened in i7 so there’s never too much reading into it with tsm sensei’s works

its been close to 3 years since I last read it and ms2 is coming to an end so like hehe. Plus it hasn’t been voiced yet back then so I am listening to it now. ITS SO GOOD…

Ch1

“Both the world and I have been torn apart quite terribly”

I am now knowingly nodding when Murr said that. now I’m wondering. since it was a fragment of old Murr why wasn’t there a shard or smth of his soul during first meeting or was it simply part of the summoning magic.

Shino: They haven’t been wiped out. I know someone at the magic headquarters. If anything happened to him, I’d know right away. Eastern merchant: H-how? Shino: Wizards don’t make promises. Because if we break a promise, we lose our magic. But I was tricked by my irresponsible master and made a promise with a fellow apprentice. We promised that we would protect each other.

ch3. Shino... ueuueue like despite how he said, Im sure he would still went ahead and make that promise of keeping Heath save but in a one way direction only...

It kept me going knowing that Shino was worried about Heath despite trying to make it sounded lightly like he’s a spoiled young master, he’s probably crying rn but ur voice is betraying no one Shino

-----

Ever time Arthur appears it makes me wanna head pat him and go what a good kid and start crying or something

Drummond: Not all wizards are benevolent beings who help humans, anyway! Just look at Oz, who controlled the world under his rule of terror — he’s exactly the kind of wizard I’m talking about! Humans have long suffered under the thumb of wicked wizards! Arthur: ............

This part gets more funny bc despite how true that is to Oz, it’s the worst example that could be brought up to Arthur in this context bc Arthur thinks Oz is the nicest person ever. Anything bad about Oz is not real to him. He doesn't believe it despite everyone as early on tells him about terrible things Oz did.. it keeps getting me head in hands

-------

Here comes Cain talking about his eye and Owen. “a wizard with a terrible personality” Owen’s terrible personality is what makes him cute. shut up Cain. Aren't u the one who asked him out to dinner like. 2 years laterdfgj

ch 4

I just love how Shylock has his ways of words, it's probably comes with experience and age with how he knows how to appreciate everything and also bc hes a bartender adkfnds

Like how Bradley's section of the sage manual is "Warning: handle with caution" bc at the end of the day he's relatively a sensible person who had to learn how to survive in the north. but it also goes to see how the previous sage didnt try to understand the wizards on a deeper level. as funny as he was, he wasnt good at his job adjffhb. (1)

Also Owen's part "Talking with him makes you feel like you’re having a mental breakdown." wheeehehfh reading about him also gives me a mental breakdown so I cant say anything much there AhAHAHBHS

I totally missed out the "Oz taking over the world" part the first time round and only connected the dots sometime later.. actually I think it makes sense since no one know about Oz and Arthur's relationship yet at that point so the implication of it is not yet known

----

They put in a mana stone in the goblet and like afjsnaoj isnt that a dead wizard... and the fact the content in the goblet smells like blood... cryuing

ch 5

NEROOOOOOO NERO NERO <333 NERO APPEARED!!!

Riquet! God… looking back at how brainwashed he was growing up in a cult and how in 2nd anniv it was implied riquet was caged up and he thought that that was him serving the people is so fudging. They’re just using u Riquet…. :(

Listening to Chloe and Rustica duo is way more funny than just reading it. Rustica is so HAHAHAHA helpless, really <3 they’re just so funny I love them

When Figaro showed up. Made me 🥹🥹🦶🦶🦶🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🤬🤬🤬😠😠😠 he evoked so many emotions it’s unreal. But the Flores brothers 🥹 Mitile wants to defend his nii sama

Mitile: What about you, Dr. Figaro? Is there anything cool about you? Rutile: Hey. Don’t be rude, Mitile.

This part is so funny im gonna cry. Also Yknow how Rutile telling Figaro it's not a good hobby to keep secrets? Yet he doesn't mind if he keeps them, if that what makes him happy bc to Mitile and Rutile.. Figgy was the on who took care of them and so they care about him genuinely.. i need figgy to wake up and see it and accept it adkjfg SECOND ANNIV SCREWED ME UP WHEN SMTH ALONG THESE LINES GET BROUGHT UP. anyway. Lenno!!

Ch6 when Murr said

“Just as I can love the < Great Catastrophe > when it gently illuminates the night sky, but must push it back when it gets too close.”

He had a change of tone where there’s a hint of old murr towards the end when he talks about the moon…. I loved it so much bc no matter what, no matter how his soul shatters, it’s still Murr, the eccentric philosopher who loved the moon as if it’s his everything.

———

This part makes me wonder so much

Snow: Take a closer look. White: Our shadows are still stuck within the frame.

Our shadows? White still has shadows? Isnt he a ghost? Does it not count if he’s in the frame?

———

Bradley calling himself Bradley sama is so funny to me bc I can definitely see back then why I wasn’t that interested in him in the first place. If he had continued acting that way, he wouldn’t have shoot up so high my my favourites right now.

+ Akira saying their impression of Bradley initially the older brother with quick temper but guess they were wrong AKDNSKAK NOOOO Akiraaaaa cling onto ur judgement!!! He is!!! He’s just a little hot headed bc it’s only in the introduction phase!!!!

ch 7

Arthur: I’m thinking of setting aside a day of national celebration, and calling it "National Mixer Day". Akira: P-perhaps you should come up with a different name for a national holiday? Arthur: You think so? Akira: Y-Yes.

Help this part Arthur but hes a good kid really!! Anything he comes across, he takes notes of them and see how he could use it to improve the country and how he takes the sage words seriously... how he trust people so much... oz... how did u raise such a good kid.....

As for Akira.... Akira really rolling with everything the previous sage said, not correcting anything, trying to save his image CRYING the previous sage should thank Akira.

ch 8

Shylock: No worries. I'm quite familiar with lunatics.

ok. when shylock says it. its kinda nice. when murr says it. he sounds so akfdsjfbhj do u wan a slappnsd

Snow: We’ll introduce the remaining three. White: Bradley — absent. Snow: Owen — absent. White: Mithra — also absent. That’s all.

I love mhyk's sanbaka

also i love how practically everyone knows Figaro. Northern wizards? Self explanatory. Arthur? Figaro is like an uncle to him. Nero? He's from the North. Faust? Former mentee. Murr and Shylock? Please, the whole snow and white drama.

MMMMM I have a lot of things to say from onwards but I finished reading and wow damn I did forget many stuff

OZ BEING WORRIED WHEN HE REALSIES ARTHUR WAS A SAGE WIZARD TOO I CANNOTOTKFK he wanted to keep him safe ueueud

Bradley telling Mitile he might be able to get by in the North is so KUSA knowing he has a Northern wizard blood running through him and if he was trained properly he would definitely be strong af… (also with how later on Brad does mentor Mitile here and there occasionally)

shino and heath little argue and the fact that they didn’t actually recoiled but somehow just fell back to being friends again

BRADNERO FUDGING QUESTION WHERE WERE U ON THE NIGHT I GOT CAUGHT… he genuinely seems worried and if not a little hurt by the fact Nero was not there with him in the moment of distress. I am hurt. for Bradley, Nero was someone he considered his partner, someone who he could trust his hopes on. He was still daydreaming…. (FUGDE Y SECOND ANNI) Bradley being real serious with the way he said it’s not because of Nero he got caught so don’t worry. Nero can’t reply. Because he was indeed the reason Bradley got caught.

Fugding hell Old MurrShy is the thing ever. I love the knives they throw at each other which CUTS because they know each other too well. The Love and Hate Shylock has for Murr for over close to a thousand years. The ruthlessness of both.

Chloe asking Rustica not to take their friendship to the extreme like Murr and Shylock 😭😭

OH MY GOD THE PARALLEL OF WHEN FAUST INSTRUCTED EASTERN WIZARDS TO HOW LENNOX POINTED HOW HE REMEMBERS FAUST USED TO GIVE COMMANDS 😭😭😭 right when Faust bring them to the execution hill BRUH

Shino pointing at the hill and Faust talking about the execution hill like he Knows too well… FAUST… failed heroes becom criminals… FAUST…..

Shino back at it again saying he wants to make it big so he can brags about Heath to everyone, so he can proudly say this is my Lord and no one will look down on Heath and he can proudly say Heath is his friend and Heath can have confidence in himself and and to shino, HEATH IS A MAN WORTHY OF EVERYTHING AND HE WILL GRANT HIM THATSHDJNDMDMD

Faust wanting to leave and Figaro said there’s no one else more responsible than Faust and the way it went like “ Faust went: Snow and White. Figaro: Are you joking. Look at how me and Oz turned out “ I know figgy said futago sensei careless, they were his and Oz’s master but yeah. same thing. kusa

Faust blizzard injury being his dream and his desire.. while he was out to stake to be burn… Figaro being there too…. when in actual reality Figaro long ditched them…. he just wants his mentor was with him till the last moment eueududjjfjksksm HE STILLS WANTS HIS MENTOR TO BE WITH HIM

Figaro cursing Faust with plain words of things that are stating the obvious bad outcomes if Faust leaves so it will rings in Faust head if anything bad happens and the regret will curse him THAT THING IS SO GOOD DESPITE HOW TWISTED IT WAS because words hold so much power and Figaro.. even if he’s a coward… he knows how to speak when he wants…. Also cursing the knowledge Figaro might die soon. And not being able to tell anyone or do anything.

chloe actually crying in ch 17 :( i had no idea he cried cried uuuuuu I want to hug him and tell him he’s the nicest person ever, I want to be his friend!! Anyone who doesn’t is their lost!!

Oz’s small smile after he walked away helping Arthur… when he finally got a good look at Arthur’s face and thinks about how much Arthur has grown. And Arthur realising Oz has been avoiding him to protect his place in the castle and his reputation. I AM FOIJG TO CRY GOING TO CRY

Kizu Owen is the cutest thing ever his voice is so cute. I can hear a little bit of Leo in there ajxhjsk anyway he is the cutest. Owen’s Knights complex shines a lot with Kizu Owen. Him wanting to be saved by a knight. Him being trapped all alone in his childhood left with a half torn muddy picture book about Knight. The only thing that gave him hope. Maybe Kizu Owen is Owen’s personality before he became twisted. He does feels like a hopeful child way back…. I want to give him so many cakes

MITHRA THINKING BACK ABOUT TILETTA….. making a promise to Tiletta bc he wants to make her happy at least once before she passes away… and to him, Tiletta’s happiness is worth putting all his magic on the line.

Mithra does complain a lot about Tiletta. Oh this rude women oh wild women but But at the end of the day, she’s still the most important figure in his life, she’s still the one who raised him, taught him magic, taught how to live. He does respect and care about her. The only constant in his life and grounds him for the world. When Mitile told him he feels sorry that Mithra has not yet found anyone precious him his life… all I want to say is… my boy.. it’s your mother…..

the relationship between Tiletta and Mithra going from “this boy handsome, will make him my lover” to “he grown up to be pathetic, so I decided against it”

Arthur displaying his authority as the crown prince to Vincent GOD THE VOICE ACTING WAS GOOD!!!CHILLS ITS ALSO THE SAME WHEN HEATH DID IT TO NICHOLAS (shino: heh) so proud of both of them !!

Oz and futago sensei standing there like 🧍🖼️ at night bc they’re useless. Love them

NERO AND BRADLEY. They’re both so Uncle core u don’t understand 😭😭😭 they still very buddy buddy when it comes to these things it’s so funny. U could tell they used to spend a lot of time in each other’s company by how they act (when Nero slips)

Some wizards are already starting to catch on… no… even Mitile himself starting to caught on how Figaro only teaches him weak spells and the way his spell is hard to say….. I didn’t realise it was that early on…. Holy shit…..

The whole Mitile asking BradNero to save Rutile from Mithra only to be in the way of defeating the actual villain and them arguing and Nova standing there🧍

SANBAKA TOGETHER FINALLLYYYYYY. Bradley calling a Mithra an Idiot. Cant say much. Bradley is the smartest there.

Mithra dumping Nova in a magma reservoir. Closing it without hearing Nova’s grand exit and reveal. Everyone: …. Mithra: wanna eep (ISNT THAT WHY U REALISE UR PROMISE ALMOST TOO LATEKAJDJS)

All Northern wizard recognising Oz’s reverse lightning except Nero 😭😭😭😭

Nero trying to be poetic and Brad went u ass what the fudge u going on about is like the most buddy thing. It’s like seeing ur friend trying to be a romantic staring out the window trying to act as if they’re in an MV and u giving the what the fudge face

so maybe Layers to Shylock eating Murr’s shard instead of feeding it back to Murr. Because he despise Murr and does not want OG Murr to come back? Because he loves Murr that he wants part of Murr to always be with him? Because he wants to taste Murr??????? SHYLOCK????? The longing and yearning yet hating is insane with MurrShy

Re to what I said in (1) I think the previous sage does come to a realisation with what he wrote in the manual but at that point it became too late to get to know them on a deeper level. He still thinks Northern wizards are always difficult to deal with when they can be real simple at times if put in effort talking to them.

Nova no having that many lines is the funniest shit ever

The voice acting for Shino is so damn good I can’t wait to hear 2nd anni voice bc there’s a lot of desperation in the arc. When worried Shino called out the Kizu Heath like it pains him a lot. GOD. He is so worried and he’s doesn’t want to hurt Heath

important stuff I like getting reminded about

>Breaking a promise results in the wizards losing their magic. Because it means betraying your own heart, betraying the you who made that promise. Words hold lots of power after all (common theme which I really like. The importance and the impact of what you say to others)

>Promise is what moves the heart, the resolved in your heart and this your heart is what binds the promise. It’s shows that even if this world is uncertain at least there’s someone you can trust no matter what. An anchor.

>Mana stones hold the respective wizard’s magic powers. Magical technology uses it to fuel

>Murr was the one who founded Magical science technology which cause uproar in the West. Causes Shylock’s hometown to be contaminated and creatures go extinct. ( hunt down magical creature till extinction for the mana stones.?? I’m sure I read this somewhere)

>Owen gains power from human’s emotion. Fear. He can talk to beast what a Disney Princess he is <3333 bc he’s a huntsman bc ignore that

>Figaro feels he’s gonna die soon. Mitile is the prophecy child who will destroy all Southern wizards.

#zen sage’s manual

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haitaini · 3 years ago

Note

Nahoya wants to fuck a baby in to you...He wants twins so he makes sure to fill you up extra good

FACTS

warnings: breeding, possessive nahoya,n thats basically it i think

breeding has always been nahoya’s thing and you know that, hes just obsessed with claiming you as his own in anyway he can. he’s so fucking possessive over you and he cannot stand having eyes on you for more like a few seconds.

he tried just wrapping his arm around you at all times whenever you’re out with him, calmly showing everyone not to mess with you, but that did not work out since rindou came in and started flirting with you right in front of him. he absolutely lost his mind, gripping your wrist to an empty bathroom stall, bending you over making you clutch at the door handle, plowing into you from behind leaving bruises and bite marks all over your neck.

he then buys you a necklace, the letter N hanging from it so prettily, feeling satisfied when people stare at it from afar. it’s like his own little mark on you. he found it too small after a few months.

he then gets a collar, a pretty dark red collar with his name engraved on it with jewels and he’s obsessed. fuck hes so obsessed with how you look with his name on your neck and a wicked idea popped into his head.

he takes you to a tattoo artist and gets his name tattooed on your chest. he chooses the font and the place by himself and hes so fucking proud. his baby has a tattoo of his name on their body, permanently owning you. the mere thought of that causes his cock to harden in his pants, twitching.

now that he officially claimed you permanently for everyone to see, his mind started wandering about how he can claim you from the inside. thats when he thought about it, breeding. trapping his cum inside of you, filling you with it.

he has you on your stomach, face pressed into the pillow, back arched with your hips raised, his cock drilling into you at a pace you cant keep up with and you cant stop squirming. whines and moans muffled by the pillow, thighs tense. “my angel looks so pretty like this, presenting themselves to me,” he groans as he see’s a white ring at the base of his cock, squelching sounds coming from your pussy.

“you’re all mine, aren’t you baby? you gonna let me cum in that pretty cunt of yours?” you try to nod but he’s gripping your hair tightly, arching your back even more as he pulls you back up so your back is touching his chest, gives you sloppy open mouthed kisses to your neck. “fuck- such a good angel you are, gonna fuck a baby in you so you’re all round and pretty for me,” his whispers into your ears, shuddering at sensitivity of your cunt clenching around his cock.

“better give me twins, mkay baby? then everyone will know that you’re all mine, ill fuckin kill everyone if they dare look at you.”

#♫ — thirst #♫ — anon #nahoya smut #nahoya x reader #smiley x reader #smiley smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #♫ — asks

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theonxepialos · 2 months ago

Text

"He only affirmed that he was your protection," a wicked smile fell into place as Napoleon seemed to throw a comment out to prove him wrong, riddled with strong conviction though which made it hard for Theon to cast such comment to the side so easily. "-But not to this caliber," perhaps the incubus should have done his homework a bit more thoroughly; if he was still inclined to cull the prince it was clear all he had to do was sleep with them. Regardless, a compelling thought considering his own vengeful spirit against nobles, Falon had offered a healthy sum that nullified the insidious thought.

Theon's head titled in stride with Napoleon's, a mirror image that was unintentional but equally as inflammatory if it had been. Both hands came up after a brief pause, Theon wiggling each finger that rested atop a hand riddled with calluses and a few scars, "I don't really feel I'm at liberty to say considering he allowed me to keep all ten fingers." Falon had also threatened to allow him to keep nine on the reveal of whom Theon initially worked for, the fact he'd walked away with no injury only spoke to a silent tether of respect Theon would thus have for their deal.

His hands fell to his sides, leaning against the chair that faced the desk, though not sitting within it directly. "You're clearly used to getting whatever you so please though," his head was still canted to the side and the infuriating grin had reappeared. "When you're whispering to each other later just let him know I've handled what he's asked for," the grin settled into something sycophantic, purposefully meant to rile and annoy Napoleon for not being completely forthcoming on the matter he pushed at.

While this was far from his preferred time of day, the company was an improvement from the average court. The nobility were all so stuffy here, he hated it, it was like nobody knew how to have fun. So there was a war... or something, was that really reason enough to halt the games? Or the parties? Napoleon had thrown one for the supposed end of the world but even that was losing fashion. At least Falon's unbooked appointment was something to look at, even if his choice of materials looked like it'd given Napoleon's more sensitive skin rugburn.

"Innocent?" Incredulous, Napoleon's brow shut up at the accusation because, for all the wonderful things that he was, there was nothing innocent about his mind. Even now his mind was elsewhere, tracing the ridges of a certain gladiator with his tongue. "The next time his cock is breaking at the back of my throat I'll lend him your thoughts." Only in dreams, sadly enough; he couldn't help but wonder if Falon had actually made such claims - but fucking his business associates was one way of proving a point.

"Well," Napoleon said with a sigh, taking a position up on the edge of the desk as he perched himself there. "I am the master of this guild, this is my office, and just about everything else Falon owns belongs to me." When he tilted his head, the curls atop it shifted just slightly, "So if you have business with him, you have business with me. Which, you're in luck, most people find me to be far more agreeable." He'd list all the qualities that made him Falon's better shortly, loud enough so the reflection could hear. "Besides, he was adamant that we not meet, I'd like to know why."

#☪ feat: napoleon.#napoleon 001.#☪ interactions.#☪ plot drop: living stone.#☪ location: eterna. / lysara.

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zaynesplushiekiller · 3 years ago

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hcs!!! (☆▽☆)

includes; andrew kreiss, victor grantz, luca balsa, jack the ripper, smiley face, dream witch, the feaster, memory, axe boy, yimi (follower), margaretha zelle, mike morton, murro, soul weaver, emily dyers, emma woods, hell ember, disciple, sculptor, naiad, eli clark, the bloody queen, geisha, mad eyes, undead, tracy reznik, evil reptilian, violinist, wu chang, and vera nair

features; VAL, smileyjack, luchinini, and xiefan

not necessarily romantic, but sort of implied; naibnort, michimary, vioann, and galagrace

• andrew has nightmares. a lot. every night type beat. he can't stand them

• victor keeps his door unlocked for when andrew can't sleep because of his nightmares.

• wick doesnt mind.

• wick DOES mind when luca bursts open the door at 3am to promptly steal his lovers dog.

• it happens so much?!

• based on that one fic, jack knew joker pre-manor, they were totally a fling or two

• cant stand the fact that they tried to make jacks DID a toko fukawa thing

• so i say its more like a supernatural thing

• speaking of the supernatural...

• i think itd be funny if yidhra and hastur were the babysitters of the manor.

• memory, robbie, and yimi go to hastur when they want something, and the old diety can't handle these cute kids start begging for takoyaki :(

• speaking of.. one time in a blackjack match, robbie and memory got paired up and everyone else let them win, despite the fact that they were obviously losing.

• how could you make them lose?!

• moving on...

• hunter rooms are bigger than survivor rooms, but still too big for one person to stay in.

• so some hunters share rooms... more like a lovers deal but the baron doesn't need to know that (✿^‿^)

• joker and jack shared a room long before they realized they were in love...

• which left for a lot of really weird one night stands! thats for sure!

• i think after the events of hullabaloo, jokers feelings for margie diminished. not completely, but he really couldn't find himself pursuing her.

• she was avoiding him anyway

• could you blame her though? he kind of *is* wearing the ripped off face of her dead lover...

• for the other members

• mike was too consumed with finding who ended his career to care much for anything else.

• violetta went to the manor, and found herself making so many little collars for ann's cats

• and of course, Vio couldn't keep these things to herself! so she began making little trinkets for the cats owner to have.

• and that got them to talking, and one thing lead to another, and now they spend almost all of their time together.

• murro and victor hang out sometimes, because wick likes berry the boar.

• the boar didnt have a name btw how fucked up is that

• more on my animals, brooke rose and emma are best friends.

• sometimes brooke, emma, and leo all go out and Brooke helps emma and leoprune some of her plants.

• emma sees emily sort of as a mother figure.

• it all started when emily helped emma clean some of the lasting cuts after a long match with percy.

• fucker. i hate him.

• on some nights, the NERDS (tracy, luca, burke, and luchino) all get together and discuss scientific stuff idk i failed science.

• SPEAKING OF LUCHINO

• i love that guy, hes so cool

• he has a crush on that cute musician, the violinist i think he is?

• this is sort of canon, but norton has survivors guilt, and i think naib and him talk quite often, they both discuss their guilt and work towards dealing with it.

• when grace first arrived at the manor, she was very apprehensive, and didn't talk to anyone.

• she met her two close friends hastur and galatea in duos.

• hastur is nice to his fellow fish-folk, and galatea thinks grace is of divine beauty.

• galatea likes sculpting grace in her free time, and anyone else she thinks is beautiful.

• women, lol.

• mary, michiko, margaretha, and vera are some of them.

• michiko and mary are always together, i don't make the rules.

• michiko loves doing traditional makeup, and mary loves experimenting. but red lipstick is always a must!

• sometimes, they do each others makeups, and then girlboss 8 survivors in duos.

• sometimes, long after the black guard has fallen asleep, he'll choke.

• xie wakes up everytime this happens, and forces fan to wake up as well.

• the terror sets in nearly every night.

• ELI HAS SOME PUDGE ON HIM

• he eats good with his bird friend!!!!

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starswornoaths · 3 years ago

Text

Wild Rose

Not long before the formation of the Crystal Braves, Minfilia bequeathed a special set of armor unto one of the Warriors of Light.

It was just a surprise that it wasn’t her favorite one.

Or:

I love Minfilia, and the Wild Rose Cuirass, and Firion, and none of them get a fair shake, and they all deserve better. Also, I fawn over @holyja‘s Hyana Geriel, but what else is new :p

Word count: 2,558

~*~

When Minfilia asked for Serella to hold back a moment, at the conclusion of their mission report, she couldn’t hide her surprise; there had been others in attendance— several others had been in attendance— Hyana among them, and it had been a mundane enough operation, what would merit being spoken to alone with the Antecedent? And why Serella, specifically?

Even Hyana had a look of mild surprise, and had hung back, bouncing in place on the momentum of her abandoned mid-step to turn back, before she could stop herself, and the two Warriors of Light passed that expression between one another for a moment.

Before Serella could even think to reassure her, Hyana had retrained her features into immense disinterest. Rather than words, she reciprocated Serella’s silent nod of reassurance, a quiet we’ll catch up later, shared between adventurers, and within the next moment, Hyana had wound her spindly, scaled tail round the door handle to shut it behind her, on her way out.

And then it was just Minfilia, and her most stalwart companion, just as she had asked.

“Is aught amiss?” Serella asked, once she had properly faced the Antecedent.

There was nothing but peace radiating off of Minfilia, as she shook her head. When she spoke, her words were sweet, but not sweetened; though she charmed as she spoke, her charmspeak was nowhere to be found.

With a radiance found only in the warmest sunrise, Minfilia reassured her, “Naught more than we’re already working on! I wished only to speak to you, regarding a matter close to both of our hearts, I should think.”

Curiosity piqued, Serella canted her head in a quiet show of interest, to avoid interrupting. It was obvious that Minfilia was nervous: even without her Echo’s sensitivity to emotions, from the tick of Minfilia’s fingers tapping at the pommel of the dagger, ever slung close to her hip.

When it was clear that Serella was waiting for her to elaborate, Minfilia steadied her hand by laying it over her heart. Her smile eased into something softer, as she said, “I felt it high time to bequeath to you a fitting reward, for all that you have done for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

“How formal of you, Antecedent!” Serella laughed brightly, and mirrored her Antecedent’s motion, to tap a hand over her chest in momentary salute. “That’s not necessary, though. You know that.”

“I do. But it’s necessary to me.”

When Minfilia smiled at her again, it more resembled a wince. “Grant me this one trespass, my friend?”

Serella wanted to snort indignantly: Minfilia should know better by now. Still, she reminded her, “You can’t trespass where you’re welcome, Minfilia.”

It seemed she had, in fact, been in need of a reminder; her smile widened around a startled, delighted gasp.

“For all my ability with charmspeak, you seem to always know just what to say!” Minfilia beamed at her. “Thank you. Pray, grant me a moment to find the right words to explain, while we walk.”

With another nod from Serella, they made their way out of the Antecedent’s chambers without further delay. As they rounded the bend to walk past the bar counter, Serella turned and happened to catch Hyana watching them hawkishly. There was a burning curiosity in those garnet eyes that watched them; Serella hoped the smile she threw back at her was reassuring enough. Judging by the way Hyana squinted in response, she figured she had failed. Ah well.

The armory itself was as well stocked as it was unremarkable; Serella had been in here more times than she could care to keep track of, in the time since they had moved to the Rising Stones. She could only imagine how many more times Minfilia has had to come in here, for routine inspections, and scheduled maintenance.

Rather than keep to the main room that Serella had grown familiar with, Minfilia instead guided them over to a door in the far corner of the room, one that Serella had noticed before, but had never had the clearance to inspect— or at least, had no merit to ask, at least.

A key wrought in iron cleared the way for them, and Minfilia ushered her inside. It was dark, but there was no smell of must that hung in the air; this room still had consistent use, even with its limited access. Save for the singular slice of light that had carved a misshapen streak in the floor, Serella’s eyes could only make out the outlines of several suits of armor, and several miscellaneous weapons, all carefully hung on racks.

Holding the door open with one hand, Minfilia brought the other up in front of her, as she leaned toward the lantern hung on the wall. She scattered her breath over her palm, as though she were gently blowing away the fluff on a dandelion. The air from her lungs ignited in petal-like sparks, that drifted, intently, to the wick on the lantern. Immediately, the mageflame flickered to life, clinging to the wick on the lantern, without burning it.

Dancing leaves of light fluttered in the air over her palm, as she then swept her arm out, as though she were presenting the room. Those fractals of light scattered, striking the other lanterns in the room in streaks of brilliance, like comets across the night sky.

As it always did, Minfilia’s radiance filled the room with warmth, light, and life. The details became much clearer, and Serella made a noise in the back of her throat, as her brain caught up with what she was looking at.

The suits of armor draped so carefully, the weapons mounted so meticulously, became obvious in the light: this was the reliquary, from the Waking Sands, wherein they had enshrined the arms and armor of heroes past, recovered and restored.

Serella had wondered whether they would make the move to the Rising Stones, alongside them, but then, she supposed that she needn’t have bothered; some of the pieces here belonged to Minfilia’s father, according to F'lhaminn. It only made sense that they would be here, then.

With another wordless motion, Minfilia beckoned her deeper. Obeisant, Serella followed gamely, curiosity mounting with every step. Worming through the boxes that had yet to be unpacked, the yet barren racks, and the odd armor rack with only some of its set unboxed, they eventually came up to a particularly intriguing set, tucked away in the corner.

Serella had certainly seen other sets that had been designed in the same vein; an understated darksteel set, tasteful embellishments here and there, draped with fine fabric that looked as though it were spun from lilacs. The detailing on the fabric was more bold, patterned, and pinned with a labradorite brooch, at its shield-shoulder.

Combing through her oldest memories, Serella would almost swear she had seen this specific like elsewhere. As if in the fairytale book, read to her as a child, as she had dreamt of a brighter future than this.

Minfilia seemed content to let Serella ruminate on this, as she gathered her thoughts. After a breath, she explained, “It feels as though it were a whole other lifetime ago, the last time I gifted one of my best suits of armor. But the time felt right again— though I must ask that you forgive me, as it comes with a personal request.”

Serella couldn’t hide her surprise for anything today, it seemed; she recalled how Arenvald had been so proud to wear the armor that Minfilia had gifted to him, when they had only known the Waking Sands, and the Waking Sands had only ever known peace. Before those halls were so filled with ghosts, that the living all but vacated.

As Minfilia said: a lifetime ago.

Were it almost anyone else, Serella would have to fight the urge to roll her eyes at being asked a personal favor. But this was Minfilia; if anyone understood what, precisely, she was asking of Serella, it would be her.

Thus, her response was as swift and decisive as her sword strokes, when she said, “You need only ask; if it’s in my power, it will be done.”

It seemed both the right and wrong thing to say; Minfilia was graceful enough that it was only the ripple of hesitation in her aether, that betrayed her lingering uncertainty.

“I would bequeath to you this armor— it is among the oldest of our recovered arms and armor.”

Though Serella got the impression that Minfilia was stalling, to try and find the right words, for the heart of the issue. Thus, she entertained listening to Minfilia recall a tale of a Warrior of Light, not unlike Serella herself. “His friends called him Firion,” the Antecedent supplied. “By all accounts, he was a good man, who defended all against the darkness— those who fought alongside him, included. I thought the tale sounded familiar!”

The playful twinkle in Minfilia’s eyes was only answered with a wry twist of scarred lips, though only for a moment, before they both dissolved into delighted giggling.

“Go on,” Minfilia said, once they had gotten their breath back, with a gesture toward the display. “Try it on, won’t you? It’s been fitted.”

With a sigh and a smile, Serella stepped up to the rack, and settled for being grateful that she had dressed down from her armor, upon return to the Rising Stones; it made donning the mantle simpler.

Despite being told that it had been refitted, it still surprised Serella, how well the armor settled on her shoulders. How the cloak draped elegantly around her neck, over her shoulders, how the layers of fabric that lined the belts were made of the supple, soft purple fabric. It hung on her form, as though it had been hammered for her from the first. As if it had always been made for her.

Rowena must have overworked poor Gerolt again. That, or Uthen took on a more personal commission, this time around. Serella could think of no other hand to guide a hammer to making such an impeccable craft, save for either of them.

When she turned to present herself to Minfilia, the Antecedent gave a gasp, as she clapped her hands together, once, in delight.

“Why, it looks just right on you!” She declared, with a giddy bounce on the balls of her feet.

Serella believed it, unquestioningly, because Minfilia always told her the truth. She was one of the few people that Serella could trust, to do so.

“You honor me, Antece—”

“Stop.” Minfilia said, though it sounded like a plea, and shattered her voice on impact, like a brick through a church window, ruining something blessed.

It sounded wrong. Serella snapped her jaw shut with a click more audible than the rattle of her new mail, when she flinched bodily.

A motion Minfilia mirrored, though she flinched outward— even in her own upset, she could only think to reach out to comfort.

“I— I’m not asking, as your Antecedent, that you take this armor.” She said, and slowly curled her arm back into her own chest, as if to self soothe. “Please. I’m asking, as your friend, to accept this gift.”

Softening her shoulders, Serella swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Alright, Minfie,” she said softly, and held her hands up in reassurance. “I’ll put it to good use.”

The relief that she felt, when Minfilia’s posture melted into joy again, was indescribable. It felt like benediction, and dispelled the tremor in her heart.

Thus settled, she peered around, curious, and searching for a set that would be more befitting one more beloved to them both. When no such mail was forthcoming upon cursory view, she couldn’t hold back the question that formed on her tongue, following that observation.

“What of Hyana?” She asked, looking back at Minfilia.

The Antecedent seemed surprised at the question. “What do you mean?” She asked, tone touched with a hint of caution.

“If I may speak as a friend?” Serella asked. At Minfilia’s nod, she answered plainly, “You love her.”

The comment didn’t bother Minfilia. It had no reason to. Nonetheless, she fiddled with her hands in front of her, and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, as she contemplated her choice of words.

“That I do. But we both know her: she would never accept it, as a point of pride, and, in part, in reluctance to have something so claiming, upon her person.” After a moment of further hesitation, Minfilia stepped close enough to flatten her palm across the spot over Serella’s heart.

She focused her gaze on the back of her hand, pressed there over the breastplate, as she cautiously spoke again, “And...you love her, too. I know, in giving you this armor, that she will be safer.” After another moment, she lifted her gaze, to meet Serella’s. “I have little choice, in sending the both of you out there, to face such horrors as the Ascians may inflict upon us. But I can give you the best chance, of bringing her back to me.”

There was a peculiar ache, in the space where Serella’s heart was meant to be. Not quite raw, not nearly a wound, but still something tender and pointedly ignored. Where Minfilia might have, however unknowingly, pierced something too close to the truth and most certainly unrequited, Serella chose to fill that hole with pride, with joy.

And why would she not? She was a trusted friend to both of them. Trusted enough, by Minfilia, to be sent into battle with armor she could never hope to properly deserve. Trusted enough, by Hyana, to fight alongside her.

Was that not, in itself, a sort of love? What had she to mourn?

“As you say, my friend.” Serella said, on a soft exhale, and laid a hand atop Minfilia’s. “On all counts. I pray I will be worthy of such trust.”

“You already are, my friend!” Minfilia insisted.

When her eyes glimmered peculiarly in the lamp light, the two of them embraced tightly, and took a few more moments to be human. Not long enough to form the habit, but long enough to be reminded of the feeling.

By the time they stepped back out of the armory, and Minfilia locked up behind them, none were the wiser, that such a conversation had happened at all.

Hyana had most certainly noticed, however, the new armor that gleamed to an almost headache-inducing shine, in the light of the Rising Stones. Her eyebrows met her hairline, as she watched Serella approach.

“The hell'd you do, to earn that?” She snorted into her drink, and poorly feigned disinterest.

The truth settled heavier upon Serella’s shoulders, than the mantle she now wore. How could she profess to love Hyana, if she were to inflict such a thing upon her.

“My fucking paperwork, Geriel!” She instead half-lied, with a playful elbow to the Dragoon’s side.

A half truth was still true enough to slip by, undetected, it seemed, as Hyana rolled her eyes, and grew immediately bored with the conversation. As was her wont.

Serella took no offense; how could she, when Hyana then pressed a flagon into her hands, with a half-restrained smile. How could she, when that was, in itself, a little act of love, too?

And wasn’t that enough, for her? Wasn’t this, enough?

#ffxiv #Minfilia Warde #Serella Arcbane #Hyana Geriel #vague 2.0 spoilers #Two Woman Wolf Pack #they're fine and everyone is fine and I don't actually mean that in a sarcastic way #like sure. Serella would love to be loved by Hyana. possibly even Minfilia.#but she doesn't have to be loved romantically by either of them to still be loved #so like. it's bittersweet #but it's not bad. and it's not a loss.

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fear-before-valor · 4 years ago

Text

AU Ficlet: Jim, who was raised by the Order from the age of five, attends Arcadia Oaks High, for his first day of human high school. Weird things happen in Arcadia, though, and his appearance seems to be one such weird thing to the residents in this small, strange town...

Aka: How an Order-raised Jim met Toby and Claire

Words: 2939 II Warnings: none II ok to rb --

Jim dropped his backpack at the empty desk next to one Tobias Domzalski’s, one of the only people at school who’d been properly friendly to him so far. It was Jim’s first day of mortal high school, and he’d been vetted mercilessly by every student group but Tobias’s, though he was beginning to suspect that said group consisted of only Tobias.

Of course, Jim had been screening his peers right back, but it was still exhausting. He thought he’d been ready after the Order’s… extensive lessons on humanity, and how to fit in with the mortals like himself, but already, everything he’d done felt like it must have been a social faux pas of some kind.

Act quiet around the quiet kids? Then no one speaks, until the silence grows so long that it’s awkward, and starting up a conversation makes it feel painfully forced. So, okay, maybe find some louder kids and try to blend in with them. Except, they start to grow obnoxious, and at some point, the headache simply stops being worth it.

Jim wasn’t even going to dare try and bond with the overly studious; he wasn’t here to vie for valedictorian, nor was he all that interested in making grades that separated him from the pack. Not to mention, he much preferred whatever lessons the Order could teach him anyway. They were very practical things, going over philosophy, strategy, combat, computations. He was already conversational in Bellroc and Skrael’s original languages, and though he knew Spanish would be equally valuable, the Spanish teacher seemed… intense, in a way that Bellroc and Skrael, who could likewise be rigorous sometimes, were not.

In fact, the only class he was indeed eager to take was history—and, okay, perhaps physical education didn’t sound horrendous, so long as he was careful about holding back in certain areas—because while he could learn plenty of history from his very ancient guardians, to hear of human history from the mouths of humans, like himself… it sounded unique, in a way that he hoped was amenable, at the very least, if not genuinely interesting or entertaining.

As he sat down in the chair beside Tobias, the boy seemed to light up, beaming over at Jim, a reaction that he hadn’t expected from his peer. He’d thought he’d rather botched his first conversation with Tobias in homeroom that morning, as he hadn’t known anything about anything that Tobias had referenced (what on earth was Gun Robot?). But, evidently, he must have done something well—or at least, acceptably— because Tobias was leaning over and excitedly holding out his hand to show Jim something which clattered in his palm as he moved. Politely, Jim glanced over to see what it was, and—oh.

Oh no.

That was definitely the remains of a troll.

Tobias was holding out small, grey pebbles for him to see, on which Jim could just make out hints of tattoos that had been etched into the troll while they were alive.

Holding back his mild panic, he gave a tight smile and a nod, as his classmate diagnosed them incorrectly as gneiss—which, admittedly, Jim thought wasn’t a bad guess, really. It’s not like the other boy had any reason to think that the rocks he was holding were anything but an average metamorphic stone.

Tobias was looking to Jim for a response, though, so he opened his mouth to speak, breathing in—

—magic.

Jim froze once more. The distinct tingle of magic had just washed over his senses, keen and undeniable, unlike anything else he’d felt that day.

It was raw, underdeveloped, not yet bolstered by the right teacher, but it was there, and it spoke in tones of purple, pulsing with potential.

Jim was no wizard himself, much preferring combat to the arcane arts, having not a strong penchant for it or its intricacies and delicate, temperamental nature, but even still, he’d been raised with the three most powerful magic-users in the known world. They’d taught him from youth how to recognize when magic was present, how to glean as many clues as he possibly could about it, or who might have cast it, might be walking in it, based on its style and scent, its intensity, or its intentionality. He wasn’t quite the best at sensing the finer details, nor could he find it when it was masked, but when it was open, unhidden, he could feel it like a mild electric shock that one might get when touching a door handle in dry weather; he could sense it like the faint scent of ozone during a storm, or like a prickle on the hairs on the back of his neck, when lightning was about to strike.

What’s going on? He thought, as he turned his head in the direction of the epicenter of the magic. First, there’s troll remains in the hands of a classmate with the same schedule as him, and then there’s—the girl, there. The girl with the blue streak in her hair.

The witch.

She’d caught him staring, as she set her books down on a desk in the front row, a couple columns over from his. Beside her plopped down two more girls—her friends, Jim noted, as they chattered familiarly, cheerfully.

The girl gave him an awkward smile, then, and Jim realized that he must have been staring for a few moments too long, so he rapidly flicked his eyes back to the surface of his own desk, trying not to think about the flush he could feel splash across the back of his neck, or the tips of his ears.

Tobias did not grant him such grace.

“Ooh,” he grinned, smug as a cat in a sunbeam. “That’s Claire Nuñez. President of the drama club, valedictorian candidate, great actress. She’s tied with Seamus Johnson and Shannon Longhannon for top of the class right now, I heard. She’s wicked smart, and—Jim?” Tobias huffed, “Are you paying attention to me?”

Jim’s eyes darted back to his new friend, from where they’d been briefly studying Claire Nuñez’s back, trying to get a more in-depth read on her arcana. He nodded distractedly. “Yeah, yeah, smart, a president; I heard you.”

Tobias sighed, shaking his head. “Jim.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, indicating that he was listening.

“She’s out of your league.” He deadpanned. “She’s super popular, and you’re, no offense, definitely not.”

Jim shot Tobias a confused look, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

The boy stared openly at Jim. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? Do you really not— Oh my god.”

Jim blinked. “What?”

Tobias shook his head. “Jim, you’ve kinda… scared a lot of the people in our class today. They don’t know what to think about you. You’re like a giant question mark! No one even knows where you came from—”

“Ohio.” Jim recited his cover story, which Skrael had helped him pick the night previous. They’d chosen a city that started with a c… right. “Columbus, Ohio.”

Tobias shot him a deadpan look. “Okay, fine, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio. Why’d you suddenly move to Arcadia, then? Why not L.A.? Why not Burbank?”

Jim frowned. “Do you interrogate every newcomer like this? My parents got a good job opportunity here.” He held up one hand, “And before you ask—real estate.”

“Oh yeah? How come I haven’t seen them put up ads, then?” Tobias crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, dude; I think you’re cool, but you freak a lot of people out with that brooding, silent thing you do.”

Jim snorted. “I do what?”

“Y’know—”

“No, I don’t know—”

“You act, like, all silent and mysterious when people try to talk to you.” Tobias shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but some people don’t seem as ready to brush it off as me. I’m only telling you so that you can make more friends here.”

“Well, I have you, don’t I?” Jim’s head canted.

Tobias blinked, floundering at that. “Well—y…yeah, I guess so, but—”

“I mean, we are friends, aren’t we?”

It was Tobias’s turn to go a bit pink, shaking his head in bewilderment. “If you want, yeah, but—”

“Then there we go. I have a friend.” Jim smiled.

Tobias tried to protest, “But—” only to find himself cut off as Mr. Strickler strode into the classroom at that moment, placing a leather briefcase on his desk with a decisive thump. Cacophonous voices incrementally petered out, as attentive heads turned to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Strickler had pulled out a stack of syllabi, handing them to the student nearest the door, with the instructions to “take one and pass them,” spoken precisely to the class.

Tobias looked like he wanted to say something when Strickler turned his back to write his name on the chalkboard, but Jim shushed him from the corner of his mouth, opening a fresh, blank notebook as he did so. This was the only class he’d bothered to buy a separate notebook for, and, to be frank, was the only class he’d even intended to take notes in at all.

Tobias looked chagrined, but not angry, as he rolled his eyes and went to fetch a pencil from his own bag. Might as well have something to do with his idle hands for the next hour.

—

As his first day was winding to close, Jim had to admit, having a friend at school did end up making it a little easier.

The rest of his time there had passed largely unremarkably, since a rather thrilling start to the history curriculum. Jim’s hand had shot up just as much as the apparent reigning top of the sophomore class, one Miss Claire Nuñez’s, had— a fact which had, according to Tobias, already begun to percolate across campus.

The lesson had only briefly covered the basics of ancient Rome, going over a bit of easy, more widely known trivia, to see what the class already knew about their oncoming first unit, but, nonetheless, Jim had been eager to jump in, to talk almost directly to Mr. Strickler, going back and forth in the form of a discussion. He’d spoken quietly, quickly, and he’d felt the eyes of his peers glued to his desk, but had ignored the sensation altogether, in favor of listening to what his teacher had to say about aqueducts, instead.

When the hour had finally come to an end, in fact, he’d packed up slowly, most of his classmates abandoning the room as quickly as they could—the lunch period was about to begin—though Tobias was kind enough to wait for him. As such, Tobias was the only other person present to hear Mr. Strickler stop Jim after class, paying a brief compliment to his performance that day, and accompanying his words with a poster for the history club. Jim didn’t think his furtive smile had gone entirely missed by the teacher, but as they’d exited into the now mostly empty hallway, he forgot to worry about it further, as Tobias wasted no time in asking him how the heck his new friend knew so much about history already?

Jim had shrugged it off, saying that it was his favorite subject; and besides, didn’t Tobias— “Seriously, dude, it’s Toby, by the way”— know more about geology than anyone else in their class? The compliment had made Tobias—Toby— preen, and he’d promptly dropped the topic, instead launching into an enthusiastic lecture meant to coach Jim through the cafeteria process. Jim, who had tried to jump in to say that he’d heard this at orientation the week prior, but Toby had shot him an appalled look at that, swiftly informing him that orientation did nothing to help the social side of things. Sure, he knew the motions, but did he know how to do them without standing out in the crowd? Absolutely not—in fact, the thought was almost laughable, according to Toby.

So, Jim had grinned, followed Toby’s lead, and had just barely survived the ever-important lunch line waltz.

The rest of the day had passed mostly the same way, in the end. Toby, having warmed up to Jim, took him through the whole rest of the day, guiding him through the intricacies of Arcadia Oaks High, and by the time the final bell was ringing, Jim almost felt like a normal student. Some of his peers had even started waving to him in the hallways; he’d broken the ice, after all.

Well. He’d thought so, until Toby had said goodbye, peddling away on his bike toward home, leaving Jim alone in the courtyard by the bustling lockers, surrounded by students eager to either go home, as Toby had, or to dive into after-school clubs and sports.

Jim opted to take his time, though, to enjoy the Southern California sun, as he strolled casually across the campus, toward the front of the school grounds.

As he rounded the corner, though, intending to head toward the Arcadia Oaks sign, where he’d stop and shoot off a text to the Order that his first day had gone well, and that he’d be home soon, he felt a tap on his shoulder, instead, and heard a throat being cleared behind him.

He knew who it was before he even turned to face her; her magic had given her away as soon as she’d reached a hand for him.

Despite this, Jim whirled as if she’d caught him by surprise, schooling his features into something startled but friendly, relaxing his shoulders as a polite smile crossed his face, upon seeing her. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—” he rethought his words, shaking his head. “Never mind. …It’s, ‘Claire,’ right?”

She nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah! And you’re ‘Jim Lake’, hm?”

Something about the way she asked that question sent up a warning bell in the back of Jim’s mind, but he tried not to look unsettled; it was probably just nerves.

“Yup; just Jim is fine, though.” He added with a casual laugh.

Claire tilted her head, continuing. “So, you’re quite the history buff, huh?”

Jim’s hands dropped to his pockets, as he glanced at his shoes, then back up to her. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess?” She teased. “You were on fire in class today.” She lifted her chin, to look at him head on. “Do I need to worry about you unseating me, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio?”

Jim snorted, shaking his head. “No, no; it’s not like that. History’s just a hobby.”

“Pretty intense hobby, if you know half as much as you seem like you do.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim grinned. “Intense? Like being the president of drama club, the vice president of debate, and the supposed shoe-in for the lead in the play this fall?” he recited, much to Claire’s surprise, who shot him an impressed look.

“Huh. You sure do pay attention, don’t you?”

He glanced around, making it a leisurely movement, concealing the way he was searching for anyone who could overhear, before his eyes met hers again, as he said, “Only to certain people.”

Claire blinked, cheeks reddening, mistaking his meaning. “Oh, yeah? What kinds of people?”

Jim rolled the dice. “Well, people who seem nice, or kind, who I could make friends with. People who do things I wanna do, too, so I can have an ‘in’. Like clubs, and things.” he clarified.

“And, uh…” his voice grew hushed, “Magic-users in the human world.”

Claire’s face fell. “What was that last one?” Her nose scrunched with the skeptical look that overtook her features.

Jim’s eyes darted to look for an exit, realizing coldly—fearfully— that he had grossly miscalculated.

“Uh…” Stupid. He chided himself. Think of a lie before you go backing yourself into a corner. Skrael would be disappointed in him if he were here.

“Did you just say ‘the human world’ like you… aren’t human?” She stared at him suspiciously.

Jim blinked. “What? No. I’m human. Of course I’m human.” He gave a strained laugh. “What else would I be?”

“…Someone who thinks they aren’t?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“It was a rhetor- well. I mean, I guess that’s true. But I’m not!” He smiled weakly, and then froze for a split-second, rapidly adding, “Someone who thinks they aren’t human! I know I’m human!”

Claire’s eyes shot to the street, where, to her poorly hidden relief, her dad had just pulled up to the curb, there to pick her up. “…Right. Well, Jim Lake from Cleveland, Ohio, my dad’s here, so I need to go, but this has been… interesting.”

Jim nodded rapidly, shooting her one more smile— a sheepish, apologetic one— as he gave her a shy wave. “…Yeah.”

Claire hoisted her backpack onto one shoulder, giving him a half-hearted wave back. “…Bye, Jim.”

“Bye, Claire.”

As she turned to leave, Jim frowned to himself. He wasn’t sure why, but something felt wrong. He supposed it could have been the awkward manner in which he’d acted, but in a flash, he decided that wanted to see her again, just in case that wasn’t it. He couldn’t be too careful.

So, before he missed his chance, he called after her retreating back, “See you around?”

Claire stopped, hand poised on the handle of the passenger side door, freezing there for a heart-pounding pause.

Then, she shot him a look over her shoulder, one of interest, meeting his eyes deliberately. Jim got the sense that he should heed it carefully.

“Yeah. See you around, Jim.”

#(why yes I did mean to have claire say 'cleveland' the second time)#hopefully the next fic in this is how jim becomes the trollhunter but!! for now I hope y'all like this piece!#i may make an au introduction post as well but brain tired from editing so that'll come soon!#trollhunters au #trollhunters fic #trollhunters fanfic #jim lake jr #the arcane order #toa #toa fic #toa au #ok to rb

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