#but y'all sure get the gist I assume
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What we lose in art when blogs leave the platform
Last night I was working on my fics database (I’m the spreadsheet kinda autistic) and checking if the links I had were still working and trying to fetch links for the ones I had recently added. I was upset about the number of blogs gone (some might have changed name and I haven't kept up and that one is on me). Some really amazing stories, art and overall fun is all gone. Precious interactions that help build the community totally vanished.
The vitriol and unjustified hate I see spewed everywhere has gotten to unbearable levels. I’ve been in fandoms and fanfic communities since the days of printed zines and yahoo/geocities groups that were uber hard to get into. I have survived all the websites that shutdown leading us to mourn the loss of that work. Fanfic was akin to contraband and harshly judged. We know we are weirdos, hence why we find community in alternative spaces away from the mainstream.
It feels like people want us to go underground again. Cool, we can do that, but we gonna be gatekeeping the hell outta these spaces then.
What peeves me the most is the puritanical take that has been recently brought into the space and how that’s used to measure others and judge them on some standards they are not even aware of until they start getting hate. Said hate is usually delivered via anon asks, of course, because god forbid them having the decency of defending their shitty takes, right?
Still on the puritanical take, the goalpost seems to change often too. It is self-serving. Kink shaming/topic judging is the default mode until someone decides they like that particular thing and it is no longer controversial. Why are you censoring your peers? Why do you assume that everyone subscribes to your beliefs, tastes, preferred topics and tropes? The performative activism isn't a good look either.
Sometimes this fandom feels like the mormons who do the soaking thing so they can get off before marriage without actually fucking. If the cock goes in because my friend is jumping on the mattress, that is on the mattress, not on me. I digress but y'all get the gist.
I have been on this hellsite since its launch and have seen many fandoms come and go. The assholes eventually fuck off to be toxic somewhere else, but they do tend to jump from fandom to fandom for a while until their reputation and toxicity catches up with them. It takes too long and the damage they cause is often quite extensive.
We are not in competition with each other here. I have said it so many times... Tumblr isn't a monetised platform and fanfic is a gift economy. Leave your fucking TikTok and Instagram cut throat mentality at the door. We don't tear each other down trying to build ourselves up in this house.
During the pandemic fanfic came into the mainstream mostly because of people on TikTok. Great! We are a welcoming bunch and it makes us happy that more people can find joy in consuming fan made art of their favourite shows and ships in whatever form they choose.
It is not because we've opened the door that we will let y'all trash the room. I'm sure you were raised better than that.
Can you not be assholes? Much appreciated.
P.S.: I am too old to care and have zero fucks left to give about anyone's feelings getting offended over this. Fuck you very much.
#internet etiquette#fandom etiquette#you were raised better than that ffs#why y'all think harassing people will make you more relevant?#it is giving mean girl and peaked in high school#like seriously#I swear to god#I am more concerned about what we are slowly losing than you getting pissy
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Mermaid au info dump time!!!! Not really a properly written thing but rather a rambly mess but hopefully y'all get the gist... This literally only started because of this one time I drew leon as a merman for mermay lol. ALSO!! I AM WORKING ON OTHER CHARACTERS FOR THE FANTASY AU. RN I'M WORKING ON ANOTHER OC AND JILL SO STAY TUNED FOR THAT!
Info dump below!
Quinn and Avery (my other resident evil oc, Quinn's best friend) babysit Sherry because they work for the Berkins (her family) as assistants before their own careers take off (Quinn 21, Avery 19). So they decide to take her to the beach (it's a private one owned by sherry's family/the company they work for idk). And while they're there they're messing around, being loud, and just having fun!
Now some friends down below were also doing something similar and heard the ruckus above. Claire (Leon is already friends with all the main racoon city people at this point, so claire, chris, jill, rebecca) decides to investigate and pokes her head out of the water.
Sherry is the only one who notices her but by the time she points it out to Quinn and Avery, she's gone. So they pay it no mind but Sherry is determined to see what it was so she heads towards the water. A particularly nasty wave knocks her off balance and she gets swept in with a shriek which alerts them.
Upon seeing this, most of the merfolk swim away, afraid of catching more attention than necessary but Leon stays. He ends up securing Sherry just as Quinn dives into the water to get her. So now Quinn sees this strange man under the water who's holding Sherry and they lowkey freak out before Leon just calmly hands her to them. They're like. stunned for a moment but are quick to swim back up with sherry in tow.
After they make sure she's okay, they decide that that was enough beach for the day. Quinn didn't mention what they saw but Sherry raved on about how she saw mermaids while she was under there (Avery assumes it was just her seeing things because of lack of oxygen).
So after they get Sherry home and tell her parents everything, they decide that Sherry isn't going to be around water like that for a while, which Sherry isn't happy about but yeah.
Later when Quinn and Avery go their separate ways, Quinn decides to go back and investigate. They end up calling out in hopes of being heard and thankfully they were! You can see that as art here (leon's design is more updated there)
Upon hearing their calls Leon hesitantly pops out of the water, curious as to why they were back there. Quinn just goes and says they wanted to thank him but also ask a few questions about him and what exactly he was.
So they talk for a while before Quinn has to leave and that goes on for a little while. Them visiting in secret and just chatting and getting to know each other ya know?
But soon Quinn stops visiting and Leon doesn't know why. The reason is that Quinn ends up leaving for school for a while which leaves Leon to think they got tired of him.
But like 6 or so years later, Quinn comes back to that same beach where they met (re4 looks for the characters at this point and leon is a little sad and emo because of some stuff he had to deal with idk what specifically yet but basically the same ol re4 leon just a little less intense lol).
They didn't think Leon would be there but they wanted to relive the nostalgia of being there.
They end up reading on the pier while humming to themselves before they find themselves growing bored. Soon enough they decide to go for a swim and end up stumbling across a small opening in the rocks under the water that they'd never noticed before. It piques their curiosity, so they go and explore. They manage to squeeze themselves through and end up in a cave beautifully illuminated by some kind of bioluminescent algae.
Quinn notices that there are several different pools inside the cave including the one they had arrived from. Upon noticing them, they assume they're each connected to other points of entry. With a spark of curiosity they decide to look around the cave more, but before they can proceed further, a large splash catches their attention.
Their attention shifts to the direction of the noise and they spot a figure emerging from the water. The figure turns and spots them and the two of them immediately freeze.
It's��� Leon? (Turns out the cave is his own secret spot he likes to go to in order to be alone with his thoughts)
It's a silent staring contest for a while until he's like. Is that really you? And Quinn is immediately touched that he remembers them while Leon well. He's happy they remember too but also he's really upset that they left for so long without saying anything.
So Quinn goes on to explain that they left for school to be a proper marine biologist and that they wanted to study sea life. But he gets all huffy and is like. I'm literally sea life??? Why couldn't you stay to do that here??? And they have to further explain that. isn't how it works.
Leon is still a bit salty over the situation, but they both eventually come to an understanding. So the visits continue with Quinn promising that they won't be leaving again (at least not without telling him). Eventually the two introduce each other to their friends and stuff and fall in love at some point and yeahhh I'll probably figure out more stuff eventually idk
#leon s kennedy#resident evil#resident evil fanart#resident evil oc#art stuff#leon kennedy#resident evil au#resident evil art#leon kennedy x oc#leon scott kennedy
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every lover's got a little dagger in their hand (2/?) [joel miller/reader]
Summary: You find Joel at Cumberland Farms in the midst of his quest to save the human race. "You had so many questions you wanted to ask Joel. Where did he get a kid from? Where was Tess? Was he on a job? If so, then why the kid? Did he feel anything when he looked at you?" Word Count: 3.9k Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who supported part one. This wouldn't have continued without y'all. Title from Love From the Other Side by Fall Out Boy.
part one
The trip to Lincoln was supposed to be relatively short compared to most of the trips you were used to taking. The painfully awkward silence made it feel like it was several days long and not the hour it took to trek out there.
You kept shooting small glances at Joel, wondering if he was regretting his decision to let you tag along. Joel seemed to purposefully keep his eyes forward, not even bothering to acknowledge you. There was a set to his jaw as he walked, and you knew something must have happened, because he looked like he had something on his mind that he would rather forget.
"So," Ellie started, falling back to walk at your side. "When'd you meet Joel? You don't look that old," she observed, looking you up and down.
"We've got a few years between us," you admitted, shooting her an unimpressed look at her scoff. "What?"
"It's more than that," she said, pulling her knife out of her jacket pocket. She started trying to flip it over and over in her hand, fumbling it every so often.
"Yeah, well, I don't think a kid should be hearing about that," you pointed out. You knew you could keep the conversation PG enough to give Ellie the gist of your relationship with Joel, but not while Joel could overhear. What if he heard the love you still carried for him in your voice? What if he disagreed with you? What if he never thought you actually had a relationship and instead considered it a series of flings? What if he didn't think it was worth mentioning at all? You didn't want to find out the answer to any of those questions, so you decided to go the easy route and bow out.
"Alright, well, I'm about to start eating my hair out of boredom," Ellie told you, briefly pointing her knife at you. "So, give me something here. Like you said that infected at Cumberland was put there by you. How'd you manage that?"
You noticed Joel glance briefly at you, a quick there-and-gone-again look, as if he was also interested to know how you trapped an infected in the cellar.
"Well," you started, aimlessly kicking at a rock. "It almost cost me my life," you reminded her, ignoring another brief look from Joel.
---
You weren't sure how this job had gone so sideways so fast. It should have been a simple pick-up-and-trade, but you faced an obstacle at every turn. It was one of the first times you began to regret your choice of not having a designated partner for your runs. First, FEDRA blocked the road you would have taken, searching for something which you hoped wasn't you. Next, your contact failed to show up, which meant the whole run was a bust. Then, you had the bright idea that you were so close to Boston, you might as well visit Tess.
Even you weren't really kidding yourself. Visiting Tess meant visiting Joel and that was really what you wanted after all the bullshit you had gone through. You wanted to drop by Cumberland Farms to stow away the goods you had meant to trade, so you wouldn't risk losing them if you were attacked or came across FEDRA.
You were less than a mile out when you made a near-fatal error.
You saw one infected stumbling along in the woods. It wasn't far away from you, so you resolved to take care of it as quietly as you could. Your mistake was assuming it was alone. That one infected turned out to be five infected, and they all came running at you.
You got off one shot, two, before you realized that you would simply have to run. You thought you could get to Cumberland and hold them off from there. You didn't count on the sixth infected to run at you from the side, tackling you into the dirt. You felt something scrape your side, your hand sliding over a sharp, jagged rock.
The blood only made them more frenzied, eager to get to you. Your ankle felt like it was on fire, but you couldn't care. You had to run, escape, because if you became one of them, then you ultimately lost.
You managed to take down the one that tackled you before pushing to your feet. You ignored the pain, counting on the adrenaline to carry you through. Every moment felt drawn out and weighted, but it was simply a passing second where you had to make the right choice or die.
You didn't dare look over your shoulder as you ran. You kept your eyes forward, avoiding roots and debris that would trip you. You felt like there was a knife in your side, each breath in painful and sharp. Your ankle threatened to buckle under you and your hand was bleeding, stinging little zings of pain reminding you that you were wounded.
You were trying not to panic, but you could feel desperation to survive clawing at you. This might be it, you couldn't help but think. This might be the last moment you were alive. The last moment you were truly human. You tried to push those thoughts aside and just focus on moving forward, ignoring the pain and fear fighting for your attention.
You could just see Cumberland Farms up ahead when you started to finally allow yourself to think that you weren't going to make it. Five infected all on your trail while you hobbled along, injured and bleeding? No chance.
You were going to have to do something crazy, you resolved. Something that might take you down with it, but at least you weren't going to leave this world infected with Cordyceps. That was all you really cared about at the moment.
For a fleeting second, you thought of Joel and how much he would disapprove of your plan. Maybe he would mourn your death and maybe he would be glad to be rid of you. You didn't know. You had no clue. Which just about summed up your whole relationship with Joel. Confusing and uncertain and leaving you clueless.
You only had a few seconds to enact your plan, knowing that if you slowed down at all, you would be swarmed by the infected. You rounded the back of Cumberland Farms, letting out a cry of pain when you stretched an arm back, grasping for the weapon you kept lodged in the side pocket of your bag. You finally wrapped your fingers around it, allowing yourself one moment of relief.
You drew to a stop once you hit the back of the store, fumbling with the door for a moment before pushing inside. In a perfect world, you wouldn't need the weapon in your hand at all. You could get to the cellar and lock yourself in, regroup, and then deal with the infected once you weren't about to pass out from the pain.
You got the cellar door open before it all fell to shit again.
You assumed the infected would follow you around the building and through the back, but one of them surprised you, running in from the front. You had barely enough strength to push it away towards the back of the room before you brought the weapon in your hand up. You pulled the pin on the grenade and launched it into the group of infected at the back of the store, attempting to shield yourself from the oncoming blast.
The grenade detonated quicker than you thought it would, taking care of the infected for you. You didn't count on being so close to it when it went off, though, and you were launched backwards, through the cellar door. You were weightless, floating, for one perfect moment before you hit the ground.
You were sure you blacked out, because the next time you were aware, you were writhing on the ground, screaming. The pain in your side had doubled, tripled into a knot of agony. You glanced down, your hands covered in blood, to see a piece of a branch sticking out of your side. Had it been there the whole time? It must have been, but this was the first time you allowed yourself to notice. You were sure it was scraping along your gut, causing internal damage you wouldn't be able to fix stuck in the cellar of a gas station.
Your hands traveled down to wrap around the branch in your side. You knew you shouldn't pull it out, but now that you knew it was there, you were painfully annoyed by its presence. You wanted it gone. Now. But you had a higher risk of dying if you simply yanked it out. If the shock didn't kill you, then the blood loss surely would.
You heard the screech of an infected and prepared yourself for the worst. You weren't in any shape to fight one off, but the sharp sting of a bite never came. You cast your glance to the far side of the cellar, where part of the building had collapsed, rubble taking up the back half of the cellar. There was a face staring back at you, the rest of the body submerged beneath the debris. It shrieked at you again, uselessly trying to pull itself free, but stuck.
"Fuck you," you snarled, pain making your vision swim as you shakily held a hand up, flipping it off.
---
"Now, hold on," Joel said, halting your story. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you know how reckless that was?"
You quirked an eyebrow at him before slowly raising your shirt to show the scar on your side. "Yeah," you drawled, smiling at him. "I think I do."
Joel opened his mouth, no doubt ready to give you hell, but Ellie spoke first.
"So, you were bleeding out, delirious from the pain, and what? You magically got better? Rubbed some dirt in it and walked away?"
"No," you snorted, shaking your head. "There's more to the story than that."
---
You lost track of time in the cellar. You knew you were bleeding. You knew you were in pain. You knew you were in danger. But you couldn't seem to make any of your limbs work. Once it started growing dark, you knew you had a hard choice ahead of you. Make yourself move or simply lie there and die.
The sounds of the trapped infected had become background noise to you.
"You can do this," you muttered, your hands clenched into fists to help you deal with the pain. "Just get the fuck up," you hissed, finally pushing yourself to your knees.
It was a slow, torturous crawl to the trash can you had dropped into the cellar years before. You managed to roll it into the right place and slowly but surely pull yourself up onto it. The tricky part came when you had to straighten up, an excruciating ball of fire exploding in your side. You let out an agonized shriek to rival that of the infected before you forced your shaking hands to grab the edge of the floor above you.
You didn't remember much of how you managed to actually get out of the cellar. It was a blur of pain and swearing and wondering if you should just let yourself fall back into the cellar and die.
By the time you were stumbling out of Cumberland Farms, you knew you only had one option if you wanted to survive.
You were sure you could easily be mistaken for an infected as you staggered down the road. You were covered in blood, your ankle dragging as you pushed yourself forward against your body's wishes. You forced down a scream of pain when you felt your foot roll over a rock, your ankle protesting the movement. There were black spots dancing at the edges of your vision, your field of view growing smaller and smaller the longer you walked. Your head felt dangerously weightless, as if it would simply float above your body and eventually become untethered and your breaths were getting shorter and shorter, barely coming at all.
You didn't remember reaching your destination, but suddenly your hands were fumbling with a keypad and you were struggling to remember a string of numbers you could have sworn were ingrained in your memory. You didn't remember sitting on the ground and you didn't remember when it started raining. Your clothes were soaked, a mix of blood and water, making them cling to your skin in all the wrong places.
"We've got one that somehow avoided the traps," you heard someone say, startling you out of your daze.
You didn't know how you were suddenly looking up at the sky or why it was now daylight.
"Help," you rasped, hoping you were discovered by a friend and not a raider.
"Shit," Frank hissed, his voice coming closer. "It's Y/N. Let's get her inside."
"Hold on. Stay on that side of the fence," Bill said, holding out a hand to stall Frank from coming any closer. "She could be infected."
"It's Y/N," Frank tried to argue. "She needs our help."
Bill pulled to a stop over you, staring down at you. You saw Bill pull out a virus checker before he crouched down, holding it near your neck.
"Bill," Frank warned, apprehension in his tone.
"Please," you managed to say, staring up at Bill. You didn't know if any of the infected had managed to bite you in your rush to escape. If you were infected, then you wanted them to put you down before you turned. You didn't want to risk Bill and Frank more than you already had just by coming here. "Please," you repeated, managing to nod up at Bill.
He watched you for a moment before pressing the sensor to your neck. The sharp sting barely registered to you. It wasn't long before you heard Frank let out of a breath of relief. You saw the flash of green signaling you were in the clear before everything went black.
You were aware of things in brief flashes of time. You woke up the first time, a pained cry leaving you as Frank and Bill attempted to get you into their house.
"I know, I know," Frank tried to soothe you. "We've got you."
You woke up the next time on a table, screaming in agony as Bill pulled the branch out of your side. You were vaguely aware of the push and pull of your skin being stitched together. You could hear Bill and Frank talking above you. Frank sounded so worried and you wanted to tell him it would all be okay, but you couldn't seem to get anything out.
The first time you could actually make sense of what was going on, you realized you were on a bed.
"You scared Frank," came a voice from your side.
You glanced up, noticing Bill leaning against the wall of what you assumed was a spare bedroom, watching you. He had a gun in his hand, aimed at you, as if he didn't fully trust you wouldn't turn despite the all clear you got from the scanner.
"I'm sorry," you got out, your throat dry and scratchy. "I don't even remember getting here."
"You're lucky you didn't trigger one of my traps," he pointed out, finally lowering his gun. "You're lucky to be alive."
"Yeah," you sighed, suddenly aware of the tight feeling at your side. You moved to touch your side, but Bill stopped you.
"Don't," he warned, shaking his head. "You'll fuck up your stitches."
You wanted to thank Bill for having your back. He had every right to leave you out there. You knew he'd let the whole world burn to protect Frank and you respected that even when it meant you'd burn too. You simply settled for meeting Bill's gaze, letting everything you wanted to convey show on your face.
Bill simply dipped his head in a nod, his expression as stoic as ever, but his eyes conveying his understanding. In turn, you knew what he was telling you with just a look. His expression was stern, with just a hint of softness beneath it.
You can't stay here.
I have to protect Frank.
I'm glad you're alive.
"Once you're back up on your feet again--"
"I'll be out of here," you finished for him. "I'm grateful," you told him, offering a small smile. Your eyes felt heavy and your breaths were coming out slow and measured. You could feel yourself beginning to fall asleep again.
"I know," you heard Bill say before you drifted off.
Two weeks later, you felt like you were on the edge of overstaying your welcome. Your wounds were healing nicely and you could walk without feeling like your ankle was going to snap. You knew it was time to leave.
"You could stay," Frank offered, escorting you to the fence surrounding Lincoln.
"I know," you said, grinning at Frank. "But you know me. Can't stay in one place too long. It's not me."
"Y/N," Frank called, stalling you near the gate. "You know you're welcome here anytime. You don't have to wait until you're bleeding out to visit. Bill’s a grouch, and he’s got a funny way of showing it, but he likes you. He wouldn’t mind seeing you more often either."
"Thanks," you told him, taking a step towards him. You held your arms out, waiting for Frank to step into your embrace. "I'll be back," you promised him. "Hopefully without the blood next time," you joked, pulling away from him. "Take care of yourself, alright? And the grouch too."
Frank laughed, shaking his head. "You too. See you later, Y/N. Be careful out there."
"I'll try," you promised, winking at him, before you exited through the gate. You started walking down the path, sparing a look for Frank at the gate. You raised your hand in a wave before you turned around, resolving to visit them the next time you had to do a job in the state.
---
"And I haven't been back since," you admitted with a frown.
"Wow," Ellie breathed. "So, they saved your life and you couldn't even make the time to visit them? Remind me to let you bleed out next time."
"Okay, smartass," you said, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that easy, alright? Besides, I'm here now, right?" You pointed out, glancing at Joel, wondering if he got your meaning.
Joel was focused on Lincoln, though. He carefully instructed Ellie around the traps Bill had built and approached the gate. He typed in the code, glancing around, waiting for Bill or Frank to appear at any moment. Surely, Bill already knew you were here.
You followed Joel and Ellie through the gate and shut it behind you. You kept waiting for Bill or Frank to greet you, but you made it to their house without a sign from either one of them. A tendril of dread started to take root in your gut as you watched Joel easily push open the front door of their house. Bill always made sure it was locked if they were both inside. There was an eerie stillness that had settled over the town and you feared the worst.
You immediately moved upstairs, searching for the couple, but you drew short just outside an upstairs bedroom by Joel's worried voice calling Bill's and Frank's names. You rushed downstairs to see he was trying to open their bedroom door, obviously locked to keep anyone out.
"Uh, guys?" Ellie called, drawing you both to the dining room. She held a paper in her hands, reading over the words written on it. "This is for you," she said, glancing up at Joel. She tried to hand him the letter, but he refused with a shake of his head.
"You read it," he prompted, moving to lean against the wall while he listened.
You listened to Ellie read Bill's letter to Joel, keeping your eyes on him. You weren't sure if you were concerned about Joel or just trying to ignore your own feelings about Bill and Frank dying. It wasn't until Joel reached forward and snatched the letter away from Ellie, reading over something, before he shoved it at you.
"Joel, you know--"
"Just give me a moment," Joel interrupted Ellie, pushing past you to walk out of the room. You heard the door open and close and you were left alone with Ellie in the dining room.
You glanced down at the letter, reading the words Joel and Ellie didn't dare read aloud.
"I don't think he's over it yet," Ellie started, looking to you, cautious in case you didn't want to talk about it. Talk about Tess.
"I didn't even realize she was gone," you admitted, trying to process three deaths all at once. The world grew smaller each day and you weren't sure what you would do when it finally disappeared.
"I think he really loved her," Ellie observed, watching you.
"It was hard not to love Tess," you conceded, trying to get your thoughts in order. There was pain and shock and grief and guilt. You couldn't even find it in you to be jealous that Joel was so torn up over Tess and so obviously in love with her, because you understood. She was there for him through everything. She was his constant and you knew that losing her had to have shaken his world.
Your eyes caught on your name further down the letter.
And Y/N, if this is you, Frank wants you to know that you're welcome to any of it. You can stay, put down roots if you want. Pick any house you want. You'll find everything you need in the bunker. But if you can't stay, take what you need. Don't go falling on anymore trees, because we're not here to keep you from bleeding out. Good luck, kid.
A sob caught in your throat, the reality hitting you all at once.
Frank and Bill were gone.
Tess was gone.
You only had Joel now and by association Ellie and Tommy.
"I'll be right back," you told Ellie, hastily handing her the letter. You followed after Joel, finding him sitting on the lawn outside. "Hey," you whispered, approaching him, not wanting to startle him.
He didn't look at you, but you saw his shoulders tense before relaxing just a bit. You moved to sit at his side, letting your knee brush against his leg.
You sat there in silence with Joel for a few moments before you glanced over at him. "I'm sorry," you told him. "I know," you cut yourself off, knowing there weren't even words for what Tess was to Joel. "I know," you repeated, letting it stay there. Joel didn’t want to talk about it and you’d respect that, but you didn’t want him to feel alone. Not now and not ever.
He didn’t have to be alone and you were starting to realize you didn’t quite need to be alone either. Frank and Bill had years together, loving each other and surviving together, because those experiences didn’t need to be mutually exclusive. You only wished that you had understood that sooner.
Joel dipped his head in a nod before he finally looked at you. "I've got to go get Tommy out of some trouble in Wyoming and then I've got to get the kid somewhere. You're welcome to join us if you want in," he offered, the corners of his lips ticking up in a smirk. “Unless you’ve got a job you’d rather get to.”
"No. No job,” you answered, not caring about anything else but Joel and whatever journey he needed to take. "I'm in.”
taglist: @stilldreaming666 @littleshadow17 @rickysgrimes @owenniasstars
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#joel miller#the last of us#tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou imagine#the last of us imagine#joel miller imagine#elgaldith fic#my fic
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would y'all happen to know how to handle a persecutor-gatekeeper? our system has one who can force dormancy & switches and trying to find resources on what to do about them hasn't been fruitful. it's not a regular persecutor situation due to their executive control over other alters, and even if it were they're too emotionally closed off to attempt the "appeal to emotions" route. any advice?
(this is rather lengthy but i promise everything i wrote here is important,, as surface leveled, short answers will not cover everything i want to convey)
I'd consider myself a gatekeeper with persecutive tendencies (its the better way to say keeper + persc role for my comfy-ness) and anger issues/holder. As a logical keeper (ISTJ) and ex persc who is also not easily appealed by my own people's 'puppy eyes' and begs, though can be influenced by rage,, I feel qualified enough to tell you my story from how i came up with persecution, what i did in that moment of life, and how i overcame and changed my overall view which renders myself as docile, where i pursuit functionality and etc which made me open this blog for the better of others.
Back then i was a really rude person, though not necessarily causing harm to anyone,, till something sets off the fuse and made me go wrecking some havoc (for short, i've seen how badly my people are doing/coping and as i was never exposed to healthy ways to fix things back then, i resorted to this in order to 'fix' things). I'd hog all the time i had outside at front and never let any friends see my other people, they can beg me how many times they want to and i never let it happen but if i was being nice i'd only give a whole day and back at it again. It's as easy as not doing what i say to push someone to dormancy, creating an environment where there are no such thing as mercy until i achieve the 'ideal' results that's wanted.. or is that what i actually wanted?
Slowly yet surely i begin to notice that my strict and forceful actions did not grow any results,, on this section i don't remember much but got the gist where this is the time i actually tried to loosen the 'ropes' i invincibly tied to my people because i was curious enough if that will generate results. It did. I also shunned down anything they say to me but at that same time i actually took it to consideration. Things are going smoothly because i decided to stop adding unnecessary pressure and ACTUALLY telling what i find troubling and talking it out instead of just bashing their head without a word, not even telling what they did wrong. It took me months to regain everyone's trust because i did an unbelieveable amount of damage that was irreversible,, thankfully i was forgiven. From that period on i dedicate myself to unlearn some nasty ways of doing things, then you can guess the rest from here.
IN CONCLUSION.. If using emotional ways don't work, then opt for logical reasoning. We all have something we care about that contributes to why someone does this or that, the good or bad way. The last thing i wanted to be is being wrong so factual proofs and basic common sense (that punishment doesn't breed better results, things like that) might help. There's one thing that could change me sooner at the past, possibly by asking "why are you doing this?" because i was villainized right off the bat (which was fair) even though i had good intentions. I think showing friendlier ways to achieve the same thing would help putting a stop to the current actions too,, but i want to emphasize that your keeper can't be forced and need to make it's own decision, pushing it is also counterintuitive. This work requires you (your people) and the keeper in need of change, this does not work in one direction/way/party.
If you feel like needing extra help/guidance and get in touch with me to do this step by step, come to the DMs and i'll be happy to provide you with anything, i assume you can take matters in your own hands as i don't want to meddle unless consented, hope it was a-ok day for you!
- j
#did#actually did#did community#did osdd#did system#dissociative identity disorder#sysblr#janswersask
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the way y'all are handling ocean idiots is actually kind of inspiring me, because i have Ideas but i feel pressured to turn it into a whole blown Thing when all i want to do is just have fun with it, because every artist/writer/etc ive seen does it that way.
yall are the first people ive seen who are just trying to Vibe with your blorbos and it makes doing the same thing feel more achievable to me. god bless
PS larus is my favorite. love the little skrunkly bird man. also can i steal yalls powerpoint idea 🥺?
PSS i assume everyone else working on ocean idiots will see this bc yall are mutuals, but in the event that they dont, could you please forward this to them? because i want them to know that theyre indirectly inspiring a random person with their Just-For-Fun-Creation as well >< many thanks
Aw, anon this is incredibly sweet. I sent your message along to the others before I got around to this answer both because I wanted to make sure they saw it, and because I wanted to respond to this in a way that really reflects my gratitude.
It's honestly so tempting to start making ideas "a thing". I didn't really understand that until the last couple of years and let me tell you, there is a lot of pressure to do that. People like projects! They like updates! They love seeing the progression of a story and getting invested in that. I absolutely understand why people leave comments like "this should be a webtoon" or "you guys should make an animated series". In a perfect world, that'd be a dream! The temptation to do that and establish a base is also attractive because it can really form a base that gives numbers and comments, which artists of all stripes thrive on (myself very much included).
But what most people never really see is the downsides of that. From their perspective, a one episode animatic, a chapter or two of fic or few panels of a comic, isn't a lot. It's kinda disappointing, and I get that. For the creator though, there's any number of reasons that things fall apart. Personal differences with friends amplified by the stress of expectations. Creative burnout. Shutting down due to the sheer scope of the undertaking. These are all real, and it sucks to deal with.
For me personally, I know I do want to tackle trying to write more of ocean idiots, maybe even try to nanowrimo this shit (not in an actual month but you get the gist). But that's just me. If it bums me out or I put it to the side, then that's just my personal project to pick up later. If we tried to make it a series, then we'd deal with the stress of trying to keep up a schedule on top of lives (college, jobs, personal lives, etc). It'd take the joy out of these characters we love.
Some of the most fun I've had in the past few years I've been writing and creating has just been fucking around with my friends. Throwing silly au ideas back and forth and exchanging art and fics for no one but ourselves. There's a genuine satisfaction that comes from it.
Not everything has to be a big production. Artists don't make their magnum opus every time. They draw shitposts and write crackfic and make funny edits. It's healing to have something silly, something fun just for you, and to share it if you want. That can connect with people, great! But it can also just be for you. I could go on a whole tangent about social media and the commodification of attention/art but that's not really what we're here for.
I hope that whatever you create, anon, that it makes you happy. That it brings a little joy to your day. That you can have that thing you share with maybe just your closest friends to play with. Lord knows I need to remind myself of that too.
#melody rambles#also yeah man make that powerpoint#I love making slideshows they're so fun#it's quick easy communication#on a serious note for just the tags I have seen when making a Whole Thing™ goes seriously wrong#it can spiral out of control in several ways#the person in charge can keep dreaming bigger while demanding more from those working to make it happen#never listening to advice on keeping things in scope#it can drive people to the brink as they try to manage whole projects with some flaking out due to various reasons#it gets stressful. it gets rough#not to say that making a project isn't a fulfilling experience. It totally can be!#finishing fading reflections was an awesome achievement for me!#It's a challenge that can help you grow as an artist.#hope this finds you well anon#this really made my day
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Ugh... I just, personally as a genderfluid person don't get how people seem to TRUELY believe trans masc/men are more susceptible to being misogynistic than LITERALLY anyone else. EVERYONE has the ability to be misogynistic, EVERYONE!!! I would argue cis people in general are more prone to being horribly misogynistic than any trans person, honestly. I mean... do y'all seriously forget how misogynistic white conservative women can get?
So why the fuck do y'all think trans masc/men are an extra special case that are somehow worse about it? Misogyny isn't stored in the testosterone or gender you know, if it were we wouldn't have horribly sexist women but we do so what EXACTLY are y'all actually trying to say here???
Look, all I'm saying is the way people are speaking & treating trans masc/men feels & looks no differently to how people treat bi people, ace people, etc. It just feels like y'all found a new acceptable target to punch down or sideways at because why is it that trans masc/men seem to be singled out for supposed "bad" things they do that aren't at all limited to them BUT also at the same time are ignored anytime anyone brings up the specific oppression and problems they face. And what's extra "funny" about all this is that it all comes from the same place, terf/rad fem talking points that y'all REFUSE to actually learn from & finally move past!!!!
Again, this especially reminds me of talking points people use against bisexuals, specifically bisexual women, because of our assumed proximity to men we get treated like we're sapphic traitors regardless of who we are dating and are told we have to make sure we aren't prioritizing men even though ANYONE has the capacity to do that (romantic/sexual relationship aren't the only ones that exist you know) yet for SOME reason we are told we have to stay vigilant & watch ourselves & who we are with because we can put the fragile pure sapphics who don't date men in danger & that we are basically asking for it if anything happens to us because our our assumed proximity to men. It's all just so *screams internally* ...frustrating.
I've come to honestly distrust a lot of the online queer community because of this, no, not specifically because of anti transmasc/men sentiment but because of this continued refusal to dig deeper and learn about/from the past & queer politics and finally learn to see the patterns of infighting and bigotry repeat themselves because NONE of this is new!!!!!! All of this basically has its roots in political lesbianism (if your queer & don't know anything about political lesbianism you should, but basically the gist is they were a group of straight women who infiltrated the lesbian community & kicked out anyone who wasn't basically a "pure lesbian" & spouted ideas that ANY involvement with men was a betrayal to each other/the group & very sexist puritanical beliefs/ideas on sex & the damage caused from that still lives on today. It just takes on a slightly new form when it gets exposed again & again but so few of you learn from this shit and seem to forget immediately what it once looked like and just happily continue the cycle because shitting on other queer people is easier & more fulfilling to yall than actually doing something productive for the overall community).
I've also said this before on a different post but y'all lumping in trans men with cis men to talk about how much "privilege" we have is not at all progressive especially since it's the only time you ever bother to remember trans men/masc people exist. Say it with me, trans men cannot and never will have the privilege cis men have because that is not how our whiteallocisheteropatriarchal society works. Trans people are not desired or wanted in our society & thus do not have or are given the same privilege that cis men get for being CIS, same with men of color, disabled men, etc. Can marginalized men punch sideways or down at people that are equal to or less privileged than them? Yes, but... that's not unique to us specifically, not even close, & honestly the people I believe we should be most concerned about leveraging their power over others & being a hindrance to the community/our liberation is any white queer person/ally, I mean even Silvia Rivera basically said this.
It honestly happens all the time too, especially in these vast instances of infighting because white people do not like acknowledging they have the capacity to oppress others and want to believe they have no privilege because of their other marginalized identities like being queer. It's no different from the allocishetero white people who do this in other marginalized spaces they are supposedly being allies in only the marginalized white people can't & refuse to see the privilege they have for being white because it didnt/doesn't protect them from the bigotry they face for their marginalized identity/ies. The white privilege they were promised at birth doesn't shield them as much as they were expecting it would and thus refuse to believe they have any at all because of it.
Oh, and also on a related note passing privilege isn't really a legit thing or is a concept I at least refuse to entertain. If you have to hide who you are in order to pass which is something that's not even accessible to all that many trans people in general it wasn't/isn't really all that much of a privilege to begin with meaning it's conditional and thus null in void. Personally I feel this is just white people pushing the blame off of them & their white privilege onto this so called "passing privilege."
...
(Read more below because the thoughts below aren't as articulated as I would hope so while I stand by them I'm probably not explaining them well enough for others to understand)
It's also a continued way to punch sideways/down at other identities and people they don't like & refuse to understand such as bi, pan, ace, aro, trans, enby & whoever else despite the fact that many seem to glaringly ignore a hole in their logic that if passing privilege is real legit concept then anyone who isn't allocishetero can obtain it, not just identities you THINK can pass more easily. If other queer people can choose to pass so easily then everyone else has the capacity to do so as well. It's not really all that different from the argument made by homophobes that gay people choose to be gay, if it's such a choice why would it be so much harder for you to ignore who you are to gain/maintain this so called privilege then? And, not to mention this concept can't exist in a vacuum, many other factors can affect "passing" that is hard/impossible for specific marginalized groups and will be heavily influenced by white patriarchal ideals. Those able to obtain this so called privilege the easiest would, again, be white middle/upper class people & yet this concept is used willy nilly on huge swats of groups that are full of a various individuals who can't really obtain or access "passing privilege" but are treated like they can.
Tbf, when I say this it's based more so on my location/the US and some of this may apply less in other areas around the world but regardless i do believe anyone can gain passing privilege so long as you hide who you are which in my eyes makes it a useless concept then because having to live your life a lie doesn't really seem all that much of a privilege especially since it can and will be revoked if you get exposed and may even lead to extreme harassment or violence.
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The “Lost” Traitor Arc in Birdmen
Hi y'all. Forgive me I'm gonna be a little rusty at this but @fronchtost is single-handedly relapsing my birdmen brainrot. We'll see for how long.
So I had this theory really early on during Birdmen's run. One I kept a little quieter about because I didn't feel I had enough but you know how my theories go! @lackadaisical-pottymouth remembers me talking about Gabriel getting pregnant before the great Fallout killed the American flock. I have actual proof that I predicted Arthur C Phoenix's dead mind getting downloaded into Takayama's consciousness because I was obsessed with working out the full extent of the Seraph mental capabilities. I get birdmen! I'm proud of that.
So here's the gist....
I think Rei Sagisawa was being set up as a sort of 'Traitor' for/to the flock.
Now, this feeling had a lot of flexibility in it and I'll dig into those ideas a bit but we can safely just assume that I firmly believe this plan was jossed very early on when the plot had to accelerate toward endgame. It's worth noting that I believe that Tanabe was pretty sure she had to move things right around... late 30's early 40's. It's the part where I could sense that she had to leave behind some ideas. Mainly Birdmen in the public eye themes, Tatsume, the group dynamic without Takayama etc. So while the Bird Club members are very well established by this time, they're put on the back seat narratively after Umino's awakening to better serve the Takayama-Eishi drama which is the lifeblood of the manga.
This is all to say that we got some potential left on the table here, especially for the Bird President, and 2nd in command Rei Sagisawa.
THE BOY
I'm a little biased, Sagisawa is the most like myself as a passionate artist with a flare for exuberance, but a gentle maybe even sensitive nature. He's used liberally in the early manga to help highlight Eishi's immature gut instincts towards privilege and to test his ability to connect with others. Takayama's hard to connect to but everyone struggles with that-- our boy can't even like the most likable guy!
That said, things take a shift with Sagisawa when he Awakens. It's one of the most surprising abilities because its... seemingly useless. I mean, he gets it right when the group is having to parse out Fox as an ally so it's convenient to the moment, but on the grander narrative, it's only used in passing. So let's talk about his Ability because it's the main crux behind this idea that he could have gone rogue in some way:
Trickster-> Antihuman Ability
Trickster makes Sagisawa a living lie detector, namely for the humans around the group. But as the name would suggest, it also poses Sagisawa as a very capable liar as well. Since the abilities are born from strong external stimuli, a strong need, and a predetermined disposition, let's dig into that.
Rei Awakens in chapter 23 very soon after Eishi, in fact, he does so moments after Eishi experiments with a Bellwether Tweet, providing a sort of physical stimuli. The need of the group at the moment is influenced by Rei's paranoia around their school teacher who set his red flags off at the beginning of the chapter. The group is on high alert after a very unsavory encounter with Eden and while Rei makes no strong motion about it, you can tell it weighs heavy on the group. Knowing who to trust is important. Finally, Rei is very emotionally intelligent, sensitive, and observant. He has a strong disposition toward reading others-- a skill that no one else in the group possesses. You might argue such a skill is born from his trauma, both from his the abuse of his brother's depressive spiral and/or the speculative neglect of his distant parents. BUT IM GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF
If anything, Rei also showed early on a very fun habit! He's a little social chameleon! He's bubbly with Umino, he's dimwitted with Kamoda, and he's calculating with Eishi! He adapts to the person he's with. I even noted that he had a perchance for this... disingenuous personality shifting as a result of his survivor's guilt with Rui-- basically embodying the popular and artistic persona of his brother to discover why he died. This doesn't mean Rei is naturally a deceptive person, it just means that he has a skillset. An incredibly useful, dangerous, and criminally underused one.
Now, while Trickster is a sensory augmentation ability, mainly used in group navigation, the proficient lying aspect means that he's better for espionage. He's the perfect spy, further capable of grounding the slowly crumbling sense of humanity that the Birdmen are holding onto. This alone tells me, that there could have easily been some kind of plot to push Rei into Eden hands-- or some subsidiary-- so that he can collect human intel for the group. It would use his abilities the most...
Ultimately, this makes Rei a traitor... against Eden. If the narrative wanted to play this well, it would be a very shifty plan with an unreliable narrator making it seem like Rei's betraying the Birdclub. But no! It could be a double agent kind of thing! We don't have any confirmation that his lie detecting and acting skills are effective against his fellow Seraphs. Honestly, we can't make this assumption at all because of the nature of their mental bond. But if we are to believe that the first abilities define the Awakened Seraph in a substantial and unique way, the group could well benefit from the ability to lie within the leadership. Actually, you might argue that Rei and Eishi's power combination helped mask from the others any lingering doubt Eishi might have had when using his ability to compel. It's subtle but if it works on other seraphim then it could be feasible for Rei to genuinely betray his Birdclub....
NOT THAT HE'D WANT TO OF COURSE....
Or? Couple of reaching things.
#1: Rei's family is rich and powerful and international. While not every rich and powerful person has to be a bad guy, there are grounds within the Birdmen universe that the rich and powerful often have first dibs on Eden's scientific market. It's an easy write-in for Rei's father to have had some contact with the country, big or small. Maybe they asked to have Rei for the Seraph project long before?
#2: The fact that his mother is foreign just offers some fluff to that idea, obviously, you can meet people from around the world in business, but Eden is defined by its global reach. Foreign and currently abroad mom makes prime Eden conspiracy.
#3: I always found Sagisawa's initial response to his transformation to be WEIRD guys. Like... red flag weird. Namely, because he's probably the most chill in the presence of the group but you can tell he flipped out when he transformed. His room is in shreds. And he stares at the Nike statue-- the same statue that holds a lot of meaning to Eden and Eva as the group houses a replica as some sort of inspiration. Now I've gone into the symbolism of the artwork and its relationship to the wings and freedom, but Rei looks at it with resentment... maybe... knowing resentment? If the Nike statue is an idol of victorious pursuits and its broken nature signifies the collapse of those ideas, then you might be able to make a one-to-one connection with Eden's scientific pursuits entirely. Rei knowing that these wings were a product from Eden? because dad? Don't argue this, I don't actually believe this, but there is some nuanced readings of these panels too.
Finally->
Yeah I just thought Tanabe might have wanted to play with this potential in Sagisawa a little bit. I know I'm biased but he seemed like a narrative favorite, especially as Eishi's equal and intellectual challenge. I am not assuming this was... ever in the cards and its a moot point to argue because it never really was... but it's fun to imagine the scenario. I know that a lot of my 'post canon' or 'complicated geopolitical setting alternate universe' content wants to utilize this for DRAMA. It's not like I think he'd be willing malicious, hell, I doubt he'd be a legit traitor (bait and switch) I just think they would play with the natural distrust his character could project.
Okay I'm rambling. It's been so long since I wrote a birdmen meta I'm literally living in the past. Birdmen Forever guys.
~Over and Out
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¤Be my Valentine?¤
¤Note: Sorry Y'all, I know this is a late post but I legit forgot about the different time zones
(´・ω・`) Again, I'm sorry about that, but better late than never I suppose❤💖 Happy Valentines Everyone!
Baraka:
Baraka never heard of Valentine's Day until you absent-mindedly brought it up during one of your conversations together. The Tarkatan didn't question it at first, but curiosity took over and he asked you what Valentine's Day was. As you'd explain that it was a holiday where lovers express their affection and love to each other, Baraka is confused because shouldn't showing your love to your partner be a daily occurrence? Regardless, he understands the gist of it and dedicates the day to you. Through most of the day, he simply takes you out on a stroll around the camp, your hands intertwined as you both take the day to relax which is, unfortunately, a rare occurrence due to Baraka's responsibilities to the tribe. You greatly appreciated that and placed a tender kiss on your love's cheekbone as he nuzzled into your neck and throughout the day, the two of you shared stories and simply enjoyed each other's presence.
Erron Black:
Before his relationship with you, Erron didn't care much for the holiday and usually spent it in peace alone at home with some whiskey and the sounds of the outdoors to keep him sound. During your first Valentine's Day together, Erron is confused about why he needs to ask you to be his Valentine if you're already dating, but he tries his best to make it special to you. He bought a box of chocolate with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and stands outside of your home for a solid 5 minutes, contemplating if he's doing this right, before deciding to knock on your door and asking you if you'd be his Valentine, as you'd happily accept the cowboy can't help but grin as he'd place a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, before moving on to your lips as you'd laugh and tease Erron for being so cheesy to which he answers that he would be so only for you which, unbeknownst to you, is true in every sense of the word.
Fujin:
Fujin is aware of Valentine's Day and is excited because, in the romantic sense, he has someone to spend it with. The Wind God is both happy and a little nervous when he tries to plan out how to ask you to become his valentine and asks his brother for advice which, in retrospect, was a poor decision. At first, Raiden is confused about why Fujin has to ask you to become his Valentine if the two of you are already dating, but once he sees how happy and excited his little brother is, he simply tells Fujin that he shouldn't feel the need to do something extravagant and to simply try normal customs like getting flowers or chocolates (per Cage's advice). So, Fujin sets out to do just that and goes out to gather all the necessities before requesting your presence at the Sky Temple. Once you arrive, Fujin greets you warmly as always and asks you to accompany him to the gardens where he has a picnic set up with some of your favorite foods out. You smiled at Fujin as he placed a flower crown and kiss atop your head before he asked you if you'd allow him the privilege to be your Valentine. As you'd agree, Fujin smiles brightly and pulls you close to him before expressing how much he loves you with an embrace and kiss.
Kung Lao:
Kung Lao has heard of Valentines Day, but he's never had someone to spend it with. So, he became excited at the opportunity to spend Valentine's Day with you. He was hesitant at first because he wasn't sure how to go about it and thought that he might screw it up, but Liu Kang insisted that he shouldn't assume such things so easily. Lao spent weeks making a necklace with a wooden heart that had beautiful intricate designs on it. When Valentine's Day came, he goes out to gather some of your favorite flowers with the necklace packed away neatly in a small box in his pocket and heads over to your place. Once there, he knocks on your door and hands you the flowers before distracting you with a kiss as he pulled out the necklace box and handed it to you once he broke away from the kiss. Lao is a bit nervous as you opened the box, but as you'd brighten and comment how beautiful it was he'd feel a wave of relief wash over him before he pulls you to him and embraces you before telling you how much he loves you as he goes in for another kiss.
Raiden:
Raiden isn't well versed when it comes to holidays, to him it's just another day of one of his endless years as an immortal but after he met you, he became more educated in what is considered to be romantic gestures. So, don't expect the Thunder God to parade through all of Earthrealm and announce his love for you to the realms but do expect a shy 7-foot tall thunder God with a bouquet, a box of chocolate, and a white teddy bear with a blue bow standing outside your door as he asks you if you'd give him the honor of becoming his Valentine. As you'd grin at the Thunder God and say yes, Raiden clears his throat in an attempt to hide his smile as you'd embrace him and placed a kiss on his cheek.
Dark! Raiden
On the outside, Raiden would appear to not care for such trivial things and would tell anyone who asked that he thought of the holiday as a distraction and unnecessary, however, Raiden remembered how happy you were when he first asked you to be his Valentine long ago and how your eyes shined with excitement. To him, You are his better half, one of the few good things that have happened in his life and one of the few people who can keep him grounded. On the day that is dedicated solely to love, it is one of the rare days when Raiden will take his focus off the realm and place it solely on you. He'll prepare your favorite foods, drinks, etc, and offer massages to soothe any of your aching muscles. He'll pamper you with physical affection while listing everything he loves about you. Raiden isn't not going to ask you to be his Valentine because you are the most important person to him and, though he may not always show it whenever the two of you are out in public, you hold his heart in your hands.
Scorpion:
Hanzo was aware of Valentine's Day, but he couldn't say that he knew much of it. He tried to ask Kuai for advice, but the Cryomancer wasn't much help since he didn't even know what Valentine's Day was. So, he goes on to the next best thing and asks Takeda for advice, who tells him that he should try getting you some chocolate, roses, and a gift couldn't hurt. It's a day of spending time with the ones closest to your heart. So, Hanzo worked to get everything set up while his students distracted you for a bit as you dropped by the Shirai Ryu. Once finished, he goes out to find you surrounded by his students, who made an excuse to leave once they say him, and greets you per usual before he leads you by the hand while making casual conversation but once you enter the living room you notice the assortment of gifts and candlelight sprawled around the room and turn to Hanzo with a questioning gaze, only to find your love with a brown teddy bear with a cute yellow bowtie and rose in hand while he asks you to be his Valentine. As you'd agree, Hanzo smiles warmly and pulls you into a kiss while telling you how much he loves you.
Sub-Zero:
Kuai didn't know what Valentine's Day was until he noticed the assortment of chocolate and flowers and how often they were being gifted among his clansmen. Growing up, love was viewed as a weakness so all celebrations related to love were looked down upon in his clan. So, He's unsure what to do, so he observes the pattern among his clansmen and notices the pattern of gifting their lovers with jewelry, chocolates/snacks, letters, etc. He follows this pattern himself and goes out to gather everything he knows you love before he asks you to join him in your shared bedroom later. As you'd make your way into the bedroom, you were greeted by your cryomancer lover nervously standing in the middle of the room, fiddling with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, surrounded by your favorite things as he asks you to be his Valentine, silently hoping that he was doing this right. As you'd agree with a smile and embrace him, Kuai can't help the blush that takes over his face as you pull him into a kiss before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him.
#mortal kombat 11#erron black#erron black x reader#baraka x reader#mk baraka#lord fujin#fujin x reader#kung lao x reader#mk kung lao#raiden x reader#dark raiden x reader#mk raiden#dark raiden#mk11 scorpion#scorpion x reader#hanzo hasashi#sub zero x reader#mk sub zero#kuai liang x reader#hanzo hasashi x reader#kuai liang
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Y'all, can anyone help me track down a post? It was commentary on a gifset from s2 of The Flash of the scene where Harry shows up at Joe's house while Wally's there, and Harry is v awkward and Wally gets the heck out of dodge, where the gist of the commentary was that 'given how awkward Harry was about seeing someone else at Joe's place, and that Wally seemed to think that the polite thing to do was to leave early in a hurry, Wally probably assumed that some scheduling wires got crossed and he was accidentally preempting a date night, and is likely still assuming that Harry and Joe are dating' I'm like 83% sure this is a post I saw but I can't find it in my reblogs, and I'd like to give it a shoutout for a fic that may or may not be yet another wip I'm adding to my list....
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Outlander: Journeycake (5x11)
I... have some problems, y'all.
Cons:
I'm not even going to sit here and talk about all the things that are different between the book and the show, because I actually think plenty of the changes were for the good, here. But one thing I will say is that Roger, Brianna, and Jemmy leaving to go back through the stones felt incredibly unmotivated. I know they talked about it earlier in the season, and agreed that they would go through if it turned out Jemmy was able. But in the book, Brianna's daughter is sick and will die without a surgery that can only be performed in the future. They all have to go. Here, the reason is a lot more nebulous, and I kept thinking - what's your actual hurry? What is your reasoning for leaving now? The war coming? Yeah, I mean I get that, but still. Bonnet is dead, there's no immediate, personal threat... it just felt like they decided to leave because the narrative needed them to decide that.
The way the story is changing, I'm starting to wonder if season six might be the final season of Outlander. They're taking some big shortcuts, changing some big elements, and it feels like they're wrapping things up instead of expanding for future developments. I'm... oddly okay with that, but it does make certain existing moments in the story feel underrepresented.
For example - Lizzie. Brianna and Lizzie have this 'touching' goodbye moment where Lizzie at first assumes she's going with Roger and Brianna to "Boston", but then Brianna has to tell her that she needs to stay at the Ridge. This relationship had no real time to bloom. Lizzie literally has to remind the audience why she and Brianna might be important to one another. Lizzie plays a bigger role in the books, and maybe her story-line will still happen in season six... or maybe not. She feels like a dropped plot thread.
Also... okay... while we're here, let's talk about what's going to happen in next week's finale. I was hoping, what with all the changes from the source material, that we could do away with the trauma detour that Claire is about to take. I don't want to spoil what it is, but Gabaldon has certain tendencies in her writing that I frankly get very sick of very soon. I'm not saying it's going to be poorly handled, but I honestly... just don't want to see it. And the Browns don't feel like enough of a presence for this sudden attack to be motivated, either. What a disjointed way of bringing the season to a close, to suddenly have a vaguely menacing man become the final villain of the season. I don't know... it feels lackluster to me, and it also feels unnecessary.
Pros:
While Brianna and Roger's departure felt unmotivated for me, I will say that many of the trappings of it were still appealing. I liked Bree and Marsali embracing as sisters, I liked Jamie telling Brianna about William. I loved the goodbye with Lord John from Brianna, and the moments with Roger and Ian. I'm also really intrigued by the cliffhanger there, as it appears the family has made it through the stones, but they look up and out over the scene and seem surprised by what they find. Did it work? Did they go to the wrong time? This is not how any of this happens in the books so I am genuinely not sure what to expect.
Lord John!!! I am, as always, predictably in love with every second this character is on screen. I love that he shows up at the Ridge uninvited and unexpected, and Jamie is immediately asking him to become their first official guest in the big house. So cute! The two of them sitting together, talking about William... John giving Jamie a portrait of his son... talking about how he looks more and more like his father every day... John talking about going back to England, and how there are "many things he's going to miss" about being in the colonies... Jamie totally understanding that...
I think what I love so much about this relationship is that it has the intimacy of total understanding behind it. They effectively... have a child together. I mean, not really, but Jamie loves his son from afar and John loves and raises him. It's a tragedy but it's a beautiful one, and their affection for each other is only strengthened by the difficult journey it took to achieve it. I will always take every opportunity to ramble on about John far more than the narrative justifies.
And another thing! About John! is his relationship with Brianna. I love it, I love how close they are, I love how John gets to tell Brianna about her brother in this moment of true friendship and understanding. In the books, it's a much more contentious realization for Bree, but I like the change here.
Also, and this is a small thing, but Ulysses' ending in the show is MUCH better than in the books. Instead of running off with [spoiler redacted], he runs off with Lord John, to pose as his servant so he can be free once he sets foot on a British ship. I mean, I don't think we should forget that Lord John has a plantation in the colonies and probably has slaves, even though we don't hear about them. But for this character in particular, I appreciate that Ulysses gets to leave and be a free man, and escape punishment for the murder of a white man who was trying to kill Jocasta.
Ian breaks my heart so much. I had kind of forgotten that he didn't already know the truth about his time-traveling family members, but in this episode he is told everything. His first reaction is to wonder about what can and can't be changed - he understands that big historical events can't be circumvented, but what about a thing that happens between a man and his wife? He wants to go back in time and fix things with his wife Emily, but unfortunately he cannot travel through the stones... this made me so sad, and I love it as a succinct way of encapsulating Ian's arc of grief. He bears witness to Roger, Bree, and Jemmy's passage through the stones, with a charge to look after the lands that Tryon gifted to the family. This feels like such a good place for him to be as we look towards the final episode of the season!
There are plenty of details I didn't mention, but I think I've covered the gist of my thoughts. I do not think it's a problem that the events of the story have been changed quite a lot from those of the book. I do think we run into some issues when a character takes the same action as in the book, but with the circumstances so wildly changed as to make the motivations less coherent. This episode overall felt disjointed to me, even though there were plenty of moments in it that I loved.
7/10
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Topic: Skin tone; the correct names.
Okay I want to make this well known, allot of people still continue to use black or white, and whatever popular word color to display their skin tone color.
-This is just an example of what I mean -the picture -legit tells you the colors of our skin tone, our true skin tone colors, and I'm pretty sure there are different types of beige, and etc -i'm just using this picture as an example for this post since it has the correct names.
Also please note I am not saying the correct skin tone colors are yellow beige -that's not what I was referring to on the picture. I was referring towards the color name which is beige, ivory, and brown. not the names that go first.
If you get the gist of what I meant than you really don't need to read my cruddy example xD.
(example of what I mean -just encase I confuse anyone or more people, on what I'm talking about. which is my sentence; 'not the names that go first' -i shall put it in bold, -on the names that go first, for you can get the gist of what I am talking about. -pale ivory, coffee brown, and true beige. See the ones I put in bold? Those aren't the words that I am saying that is the correct color skin tone name of ours. it's basically beige, brown, and I guess ivory? -since i know ivory falls under the different types of color skin tone that people do have -so that's a pass -i suppose)
But, I wanted to know from everyone that; you know your skin tone isn't black or white - right? -That's my question, and curiosity towards those who continue to strongly use the words; white, and black for their skin tone color. I sometimes wonder if you guys do know that isn't your correct skin tone color name -right? It's actually brown, and beige. I am using this chart as an example of what I mean. Which again let me repeat myself -since people wish to not read well, and assume of the post itself. I used the chart as an example due to it having the correct color names.
So I'm hoping this post gets agreement, because everyone should know that their skin tone isn't the color of a black tire of a car, and your skin tone isn't white as the white walls that you see.
Anyway, It actually took me sometime to say the correct skin tone color for beige people, and brown people, because I'm so used to saying black/white. -Like everybody else. I am also making this post to make sure people know their correct skin tone colors, and aren't actually believing that their skin tone is black or white. Because some people are just; wow. -You guys are actually wrong, in thinking that you are actually the color black and white, need to wake up -smell the coffee beans, because that's not the correct skin tone color of yours.
Lastly I do hope, no ignorant person calls me racist for correcting the skin tone color named, of people, who should know this already lol, but here is another example of what I mean, again just encase y'all don't get me. -If you do understand me, than just skip this sentence.(which isn't that great -it's why I am editing this main post); If an artist chose to use the colors that people call beige people -white, then you won't have a character with the correct skin tone, that the artist is trying to display for the character at all. the artist will end up making an albino person. -there's nothing bad with that, but it's bad because beige people will continue to believe their albino when their not(talking about the fact that they call theirselves white, and strongly believe that is their skin tone color/name). -Hopefully my example makes sense, and no one twists my damn words around -cause like smh. -help lol.
-And yeah, I believe that's all for this topic~. Any questions go right ahead? And ask me -if you decide to be an ignorant person by being rude towards me -i will delete your comments. -If you decide to be ignorant, and spam me with inbox messages, I will ignore you. simple as that.
Edited: 4:24pm on a Sunday. May 18th.
#topic#discussion#skin tone#skin color#correct skin tone color#correct skin tone name#color name#black#white#brown#beige#white people#brown people#black people#beige people#know your skin tone color#reminder#question#sensative topic#thoughts#picture#skin color palette#skin#please read#dont assume#important#edit#fix#finale edit
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Regarding Loki in Avengers 4…
There are SPOILERS ahead for Avengers Infinity War, so please don’t read on unless you have already seen the movie, or else don’t mind being spoiled.
Still here? Alrighty, then. I just put on my reading glasses, so you know it is going to be a long one. And please forgive me if the “read more” doesn’t work… Tumblr Mobile is weird that way.
I was driving home from dropping my daughter off at work, and I was listening to some random songs, and one came on (which I will name at the end of this post) and it just threw an image into my head that I could not shake. But I don’t think that I would actually be able to fic it, so I am just going to put the thought out there for y'all to do with as you will.
The main gist of it is that there are mystical, scientific, and spiritual aspects within the MCU, and we have pretty much come to expect them to work in harmony. And in that respect, I was thinking what if the Stones also have their own personalities and thoughts, and are essentially living beings in their own right? I was thinking that they do not usually work together because they choose not to—because they know what will happen if they do—but the Gauntlet basically forced them to. It enslaved them, and made them do things that were against their nature.
What if in A4, the stones seek out the remaining Avengers to try and set things right? And after they succeed, and all the dust-people are returned to themselves, the Stones prepare to go their separate ways… but before they do, they decide to work together one last time and give gifts to those that helped to right the wrongs that Thanos forced them to perform.
They give nothing of cosmic or universe-shattering import, but small things. Little rewards, in the grand scheme of things, and they will reverse no deaths (something the Time Stone scolds Strange for doing). However, there are loopholes. Vision is brought back as an actual flesh-and-blood man by the combined efforts of the Mind and Reality stones, for example, because he was never actually “alive” to begin with, and part of his psyche still resided within Mind.
But they choose the gifts on their own, and nothing is outright asked for. When they come to Thor, they look into his mind and they see how much he has lost. His family, his friends, his home, his throne. What could they do for him? They see his parents in his thoughts, but even if the Stones were willing to bring them back, they would not do so because Thor believes they are happy together now in Valhalla.
Loki, though… when Thor thinks of Loki, he does not know where he might be. He died a warrior’s death, and he was of Asgard, but he was not Aesir. Would a Frost Giant be allowed in Valhalla? Was he now with Odin and Frigga and all the other Asgardians that lost their lives with honor? Or is he somewhere else? Is he alone?
The Stones tell him that Loki is not in Valhalla, and the news breaks Thor’s heart. They tell him then that he is not in Valhalla because he is not dead. Thor is dumbstruck. He thinks that maybe Loki lied again, that he faked it. But they tell him that no, he didn’t. Nor did he fake it either when he fell from the Bifrost or when he was stabbed by the Kursed.
His body protected itself both times. The first time, he was in the cold deep of space—an environment that a Frost Giant embraces. He fell through space until he slept, and when he awoke he was in Thanos’s clutches. Thanos knew what he was, knew how to make him do what he wanted. He tortured him with heat… endless, scorching heat. But Loki’s magic protected him, protected his heart and mind with a layer of ice. Yet still, Thanos broke him, and Loki had no choice but to do as he had been told.
On Svartalfheim, after he was stabbed, Loki’s magic again protected him. It again locked his mind and heart in ice, and he healed. When he awoke there, he was confused, afraid. He did not know where Thor had gone, and so Loki returned to Asgard. He wished at that moment only to speak to Odin, to find out what Odin would think of losing him. But Odin saw through the illusion, and Loki felt he had no choice but to banish him, or else again go into exile.
And now, Loki’s magic protects him once more. He is in the deep of space, frozen and barely alive—but he is broken, too far-gone to survive for long. He will not heal this time… but for the moment, he still lives. And with that, the Stones know what to give to the King of Asgard.
The Space Stone reaches out, brings Loki to Thor’s side. Loki is unconscious, and is now Jotun—his skin is blue and icy-cold. But here on the surface of the Earth, with the sun on him, he begins to warm. His magic begins to break down, and he starts to die. Thor begs the Stones to stop his death, and the Time Stone envelopes Loki, stopping him at the moment just before he passes away completely.
Time then begins to reverse for Loki. He fades and flashes back, grows younger and younger. Again, Thor asks the Stones to stop—but by the time they do, Loki is an infant. He begins to cry, and Thor kneels beside the naked blue child. They look to one another, and Thor touches his face. Like when Odin first held Loki as a baby, the child changes. He has looked into his brother’s mind, and has seen himself as Thor remembered him, and had made himself in that image.
Thor removes his cloak and covers the baby, then he looks to the Stones and asks if Loki will remember his life from before. They tell him that no, he won’t, because infants seldom hold to memories. The Stones sense that Thor does not want Loki to forget everything, and so the Time Stone again wraps its influence around the prince. He ages again, and when he reaches what for humans would be mid-adolescence, the Stone releases him. The now-teenage Loki looks to Thor, who asks him if he remembers anything, and Loki says no—then he asks Thor who he is.
Thor tells him that they are brothers, then he places their brows together, and he tells him that he will remember for both of them. At once, memories flash in both Loki and Thor’s minds. Loki sees them as they were—both the happy times and the times when they fought; he sees the betrayals and the sacrifices; he sees the years go by in an instant, and he does not like everything that he sees.
Thor asks him once more if he remembers, because he felt the memories, as well. Loki tells him, “only pieces”. Loki asks Thor if he can forgive him for all the mistakes he made; and Thor asks Loki to do the same for him. Loki looks to the sky and smiles at the sun.
And on and on life goes, and if I can step out of the wandering thoughts for a moment and to what the future would hold…
Thor would then become Loki’s guardian and teach him the history of their people, and all of the other Avengers would play a part in his life. For example (and assuming all these people survive/return): Doctor Strange and Wanda would guide him through re-learning the mystical arts, Clint would help to administer the right kind of discipline (including self-discipline), Natasha would re-teach him combat arts, Steve would give a living example of how to live life honorably, he would learn from Bruce how to control his more violent impulses, he would find in Tony a kindred-spirit to speak to about the trauma they have gone through, T'Challa would teach him how to be a good leader, Vision would be right there with him in learning how to be “human”, Bucky would spend time with him and speak about how best to forgive themselves for the mistakes they made (even if some of those mistakes were not of their own making, but were forced upon them), and Rhody and Sam would both teach him different aspects of the military (such as bearing, and how and when to obey—or creatively disobey—the rules).
He would not only be surrounded by adults, though, as he would have peers in Peter and Shuri; as well as more “regular” people, such as Harley Keener, Cassie Lang, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Cooper and Lila Barton.
And I know this is all very far-fetched, and dripping with wishful-thinking… but what if, guys… what if even part of this happens? What if we do get Loki back, but a younger Loki? One that made the mistakes, that remembers them… but now feels that there is a chance to at least change something for the better? The things he did were not erased—they are still there. He still remembers them, but they are not who he is. They never were, but now he realizes that. What if he gets a second chance?
For the record, the song that got his thought-train rolling was “I’ll Keep You Safe” by Sleeping At Last… but now I am working on a full-fledged playlist to go along with it. Because even if this doesn’t happen (and I doubt it will), in some reality of this multi-verse I am sure it could.
#avengers infinity war#infinity war#infinity war spoilers#loki#kid loki#marvel#whisper posts stuff#whisper talks about avengers 4
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The Shepherd to his flock.
Warning: Lots of swearing, sex inference, drinking, and an asshole named Declan Nicholaides (LOL).
Out on the boat, Declan had been sitting with this soon to be sons-in-law, one on either side of him as his own son Edrian was taking inventory of all their equipment before settling himself down on the sail home before the shipwheel. Declan's brothers, Ivar and Reese, along with Cyren's father Ivers had accompanied them that day as well; it had been a day of learning and reflection for all. Beer in hand, the elder Nicholaides leaned back on the bench that overlooked the water after they had all had a "bond dive" earlier in the day. Still in his wetsuit, Declan downed the beer, only to stand, lean over the bench's back, and pour himself a crystal glass of bourbon. He offered one to both Cav and Cyren, Cav taking one but Cyren only taking a bottle of the beer that was offered shortly after, his own son taking both into his hand and halfway chugging down the bottle of beer in the first gulp.
"Boys, you two are about to be family. With that commitment comes the responsibility of being a part of the business, and Ian’s gonna need help from the both o’ yas. I gotta apologize because the aristrocratic, fucktarded system we got in Ishgard ain't somethin' that did my family justice so we had ta come ta Limsa Lominsa. Those two girls in your lives deserve better 'n the horseshit that I see walkin’ ‘round like they was the cock o’ the walk, very much like Abel. So, wit’ that bein’ said, I need you boys to make me a promise," Declan stated matter of factly as he took a long puff from his cigar, only to chase the exhalation down with a swift drink of the glass in his hand.
"I need y'all to promise me that you're gonna stand by the family no matter what shit hits the fan, and I mean that, if the powers that be ever give y'all shit, you stand your ground. You don't let my girls fall into the hands of bloodthirsty bureaucratic bullshit that'll getcha all in trouble. One of the biggest bitches I have towards all we’ve done is that there’s so much shit goin’ on around us. People who wanna see us fail and fall flat on our asses. I don’t wanna repeat of the Abel bullshit. Even with our own soldiers, some of them get so needy on my girls for fuckin’ ever’thin’, even so much as a papercut and I see how it overwhelms ‘em at times. Cav, I know Iria tolerates it because she feels she has to but don't let that weight fall on her shoulders. That girl is sweet as pie and doesn't know how to say 'no' to people. You gotta tell 'em for her. I'm relyin' on you to keep her sane, boy. I know you'll do well because I know how much you love her," Declan pointed out. "Som'thin' else...that loud ass comment that came down the hall the other day? The one where I found out you 'n' Iria was expectin' twins? Hot damn! I was the idiot runnin' up and down the hall holler'n' 'my lad's boys c'n fuckin' swim!' Two grandkids fer the price o' one? Halone's cold fuckin' tits, boy. Ya done me proud."
Laughter erupted on the boat after Declan's comment, Cav seeming to blush a little in embarrassment for how usually reserved he was, even in front of his father-in-law.
"Indeed, sir. Both Iria and the twins. I'll help Ian always when he needs it. No doubt he has everything under control but I think he will also need to be willing to let me step up and help,” Cav narrowed his crimson eyes at his brother in law with a big knowing smirk. Maybe in a couple of years, I --" Cav was immediately interrupted by Declan.
"That's somethin' you gotta stand your ground on too, son. I really appreciate you takin’ the Nicholaides name and, because you’s a Nicholaides, ya gotta put yer foot down there, too. Help Ian even if he’s an ass about it…or even turns into a fuckin’ titty baby.” Declan grinned wolfishly with his cigar sticking out between his teeth as his aquamarine gaze narrowed in on his son. Turning back to Cavero, he continued, “But I expect you 'n' Iria ‘re gonna have more children of your own. Iria's just tryin' ta make sure that the bloodline don't die and you two have my blessin's for that," Declan stated, giving Ian another hard stare. "That one’s not gonna have children before I die," he said pointedly at his son before Ian gave him the finger with a mean smile while steering the ship home. “Yeah…fuck you too. Don’t want them around your bullshit to corrupt ‘em like you’re planning with Iria and Cav’s.”
Cav shook his head, laughing heavily. "Well, Ian knows I’ll do what’s necessary but only when asked. I will do my best to offer aid when I feel it’s necessary, but I want to leave nothing open for interpretation because you know what assuming does," Cav joked with a smirk.
Declan and Cyren laughed. "Yeah, don't wanna be makin' an ass outta yourself too soon. Good call, son," Declan smiled as he clasped Cav on the back gently. It was then he turned to Cyren. "Now you..." he reached over to ruffle the younger man's hair. "Had I another boy like you, I'd of been one blessed papa," he kidded as he pat Cyren on the back.
"You are about to be Mr. Ada Nicholaides," the older man joked with a deep, hearty laugh. "But in all seriousness, you have done so much for my daughter and I cannot thank you enough. I had no reservations when I first met you, but then again that was also the day you were born, so I know my judgments were right on the money," he said as he took another drink. "Your parents must be real proud o' ya, Cyren. I am honored for you to be comin' inta my fold."
Cyren grinned at that comment. "Well, it was Ada who chose -me-, technically. She could've had anyone in the world, but yet she chose me, and our life has been so enriched. Unfortunately, we're going to take it a bit slow when it comes to children. She told me about her issue, Lord Nichol --"
Declan ruffled his hair again playfully. "Don't you fuckin' dare, boy. It's either Declan or Dad. Yer gonna be my son, soon. If you can't call me by either, then you just turn around and say 'Hey old fart' like their uncle Ivar calls me. If you boys are gonna survive in this family, these formalities gotta die, y'know? It just makes shit...awkward," he laughed as he took another inhalation from his cigar. Cyren's father, Lord Iversseaux Beausejour, chuckled himself and raised his beer bottle in cheers to the elder Lord Nicholaides. "Yer daddy already knows how I feel 'bout that shit, son."
Cyren shook his head as he chuckled. "Alright -Dad-...I'll be sure to remember that. One thing we need to take care of though is getting Ada ready to learn to swim. I think she's got the hang of the gist of it. She wants to visit some beaches and I want her to be ready to swim in them if she wants," he shrugged. Declan sighed heavily. "Ayup, but she's gotta have the want to learn, bub. If she doesn't, then she's gonna be missin' out on a lot. Encourage her as much as you can, I know she'll listen to you."
As Declan looked out over the railing at the water and the stars illuminated the night sky, he turned to look at the two young men beside him. "You both will make fine pillars for this family. I am looking forward to the days when you both actually become my sons, not just Cav. It was a wonderful day, but my boys ‘re gonna make a difference in this family."
(( @zhauric and Cavero, @whispering-dawn for mentions.))
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Symphony of Souls (Pt 2)
People like this I guess? :p But this is probably where I'll lose some of y'all, lol. Due to the... nature of this universe, individual ships will only be tagged if they're the main focus of the chapter, but after this you'll know which ships might appear.
Weiss sat at the cramped table in the dining area, hiding her rolling emotions behind a smooth, patient, polite mask. It never failed to sting, how she carried so many memories in her heart while those she longed for remained blissfully ignorant. After all this time, she'd turned the entire process into a simple pattern, tailored to the one she found first. Despite the agony of slowly explaining, she took more than a little solace from having found her sweet Nightowl first.
"So... let me get this straight," the Faunus said, both hands wrapped around her cup of hot tea. Weiss had suggested it the moment her question brought back more suspicion than before, feline ears laying back into midnight hair. Usually, tea helped Blake think and calm down, but modern blends never quite reached the same quality, the same taste, and the slight frown on her lips hinted that she might finally know why something never seemed quite right. "You're a goddess from over three thousand years ago, forced into immortality that you'll lose without receiving enough... praise, and I used to be one of your priestesses?"
"That's the basic gist of it," Weiss replied, a small sigh slipping past her lips. She'd learned, through trial and error, that too much, too soon, would do her no favors. Forced to rely on vague summaries, she did her best to convey the important details, the ones that stood a chance of jogging memories. "There's a few more details, but we can cover those later."
"Assuming there is a later." Blake bristled, frowning again. She remembered a time when the Faunus smiled and laughed freely, but it seemed time and time again that fate conspired to give her more than enough reasons to be hostile towards the one she'd once trusted with all her heart. Weiss tried not to take it personally. "I mean, this is a lot to buy. You're basically telling me you're a succubus and that you used my roommate to 'recharge' yourself." She took a steadying draught of her tea but lowered the cup quickly, apparently not trusting her guest to leave her immediate line of sight. "That doesn't exactly sound like a benevolent mistress I'd willingly serve."
The words hurt. They always did. Ancient mortals had whittled away her powers by creating a new myth to vilify her. No longer did she stand as the goddess of creations, mistress of the harvest, patron of childbirth- no, she represented night demons come to lure away the soul and rend the flesh. They turned her into a monster... but her chosen refuted the claims back then and remained loyal to her and she to them. However, before the memories of their past lives took hold, they repeated the myths each time she found them again. Weiss tilted her chin up in defiance of those who'd cast her down so long ago, confident she hadn't lost the fight quite yet.
"I don't hurt people and I don't take unwilling partners. I didn't use Velvet."
"She's not the type of person to jump into bed with someone she just met," Blake replied, anger creeping into her tone.
"But it's happened before, hasn't it?" Already, she could tell her window of opportunity was closing. She hated taking the route rife with conflict, but she had little choice. Even if she lost the battle today, she still had tomorrow; she had the rest of eternity. "She's met someone and had an instant connection, inexplicably deep despite its brevity, but it always felt like there was something missing between you two." The Faunus flinched, prompting her to press forward. She had the advantage now and could press it, could prove her claims true. "You likely blamed yourself, broke it off but stayed friends, because conventional wisdom doesn't apply to the way she made you feel. It scared you, because only a few people can make you feel that way, and you've yet to find an answer for any of them. You love her, just like the others, and you feel conflicted about that, like some part of you much older and wiser is calmly weathering the expectations of the world around you while bemoaning how much has changed, even though you don't remember it ever being any different." Weiss leaned forward, staring deep into amber eyes. "But at least when you dream, she's there with the others, and you feel content lying in the field beneath that ageless tree-"
Blake shot to her feet, anger pinching her expression. "Get out."
She didn't feign surprise. This result always seemed the most likely when she crossed paths with her beloved Nightowl first; she'd avoided it twice but had yet to recreate the results.
Rising in one fluid motion, she started for the door but spoke over her shoulder as she went. "Next time you have that dream, try looking behind you."
As she let herself out, Weiss felt confident in two things: that Blake would take her advice and that she'd hear from neither Faunus for at least two weeks.
Another sigh escaped her lips as she stepped out into the weak morning sunlight. Time meant little to an immortal but the wait would be agonizing all the same.
Weiss spent her days preparing her living space for guests, dragging out the sentimental essentials and arranging the largest room in her penthouse to pay homage to the six souls she stood on the brink of finding again. During the times she found them, the fallen goddess did her best to recreate the temple- their first home together- but when they eventually passed from old age, she would put everything away, store it safely until next she could find them. At first, she tried preserving it, as if leaving a room frozen in time would ease her agony by some small amount. It never did; it merely exacerbated the lack of laughter, the missing warmth, and the decades that would creep by until she had her chance once more.
Blue eyes, still shining bright, scanned over her work, lingering on the spot where she'd set up Blake's things. If her sweet Nightowl could just see her collection, the memories of her soul would be fully restored, but exposing any of them to their previous lives too early would be a dire mistake. The confusion from her claims would call to those memories where they'd been their most lost and, many times, that included their first death. Without context or a guiding hand to help them make sense of the images and sensations being relived, they would turn against her, and she couldn't fault them the reaction. So, the process had to be slow, first presenting the idea and allowing them to wrap their minds around the concept before introducing any of those old memories. The phrase she'd repeated- the one linked to some of their happiest moments- could only unlock the door, not open it. The waiting hurt, especially with the harsh dismissal, but Weiss had patience and faith. Blake usually turned her away, rebelled in some way- it was part of her very nature to do so.
Still, the thoughts crept into her mind. Whenever the first meeting went poorly, the immortal considered letting this time be the last- that retreating back to the crumbling remains of her temple to wither and die alone stood as the better option. She wasn't even sure if she could die; so few had escaped the reckoning and she'd lost touch with them all. Only her sister- the shining edge of a blade, the former master of war- had sought her out during the intervening millennia, and she hardly looked living much less healthy. Dull and dark, a shadow of her former glory, just like Weiss, but she left in higher spirits usually, except for the last time. They stood atop a hill, watching a group of mortals prepare a siege tower- revolutionary technology at the time. They'd just buried her beloveds yet again hardly a week before and the loss always chaffed, always brought out the ugly, vengeful tendencies Weiss thought herself long past, and her sister bid her farewell. For the last time, she'd said, before turning to march into the mountains to wither like a blade left to dull and rust. Did she still linger as a spectre, roaming the mountains during twilight? Did she fade into dust? Weiss didn't know... but perhaps she should find out firsthand.
She shook her head, turning away from the enshrined room in a bid to dispel her troubling thoughts. It should be old hat by now but the worries gnawed at her. She remembered vividly that night so very long ago, when her beloved Nightowl first walked into her temple. Back then, Weiss expected nothing more than the daily prayers from all over Remnant to sustain herself, but then she had this brave Faunus, who'd traveled so far from home, standing before the altar, seeking something she could hardly articulate and hoping she could make a difference.
Her homeland couldn't support her people, couldn't give enough food to keep them from starving or provide shelter from the bitter storms, and while her family exhausted every option available to a mortal's ingenuity, she put her faith elsewhere. Blake had run as far as she could, seeking the answer to her people’s plight, and found herself at the temple of an ancient goddess, ready to offer portions of a harvest in exchange for the ability to grow the crops in the first place. For her part, Weiss had grown bored with watching mortals plod along, toiling through their lives; it didn’t seem to be anything more than a bleak existence, and she didn’t have much occupying her time either. So she went, crossed the sea to the little island where the Faunus had gathered after being forced from the other lands, a place they could make their own, with a little help. Just like Blake, they had the gleam of defiance in their eyes and looked upon the deity- who appeared to all the world like a human among them- with suspicion.
Honestly, she rather liked the change.
Then she rose her voice in song. The sands receded to the beaches and a few patches dotting the island. Lush fields and dense forests sprouted in their wake. Lakes and ponds swelled up from the ground and rivers descended from mountains that reached high into the sky fed them. She called forth beasts- cows and pigs and sheep- to give the Faunus food and fur, and deer for game and wolves to keep them from becoming lax. Pretty birds to sing them to sleep and rouse them in the mornings, and a few others that they might eventually keep as pets. When her song ended, the Faunus had not an island; they had a utopia to call home.
In turn, they raised their voices in song, beneath the stars of a calm night as they spread out in the field and picked ripe fruit for their feast. Weiss had never felt so powerful, recovering all the energy spent in creating this home for them, and she took it as recompense. She needed nothing more and made the long journey back to her temple with just her constant companion at her side, the creature gifted her by her Mother- the Mother of all things- and she thought fleetingly of the Faunus she left behind, with their bright eyes and their powerful voices.
Hardly a month passed before her precious Nightowl entered the temple again, this time seeking something for herself rather than her people. Somehow, through their talks late into the night during their journey, she'd come to see Weiss as more than a goddess. It constituted the first time the immortal deity realized that the fierce soul dancing in amber eyes called to her differently than any she'd encountered before. That night, Weiss shared herself with another and took what was offered in return. Her power surged, yes, but what would always stick with her was the next morning, opening her eyes to see another body beside her own, light breathing in her ear, and a heartbeat she could listen to for all eternity pounding just beneath supple skin.
Soon, her Nightowl discovered a thirst for the stories of the world- history of humans and Faunus and tales of the pantheon- and together they built a little library in one wing. They spent their long nights among the book stacks, the heavy scent of ink and parchment enveloping them as they poured over words. Weiss fell in love with the mortal, declared her a high priestess, and tied their lives together using the strings of fate themselves. She started a trend.
She caused her own downfall.
The ringtone of her phone snapped her attention away from her memories. Pulling it free, she glanced at the screen- an unnamed number- before answering. "Hello?"
"Weiss?"
Her lips curled into a small smile. "Velvet. It's good to hear from you."
"Yeah, I'm- I'm sorry it took so long." She paused. "I just... well-"
"You don't owe me an explanation," she said, entering her bedroom and taking a seat on the edge of her king sized bed. While she resigned herself to using the contraption more nights than not, she found herself hoping its use would soon diminish until it became a forgotten placeholder altogether. "I believe I owe you one, though."
Velvet remained silent for a moment. "Blake said you gave her one."
It wasn't an accusation, just a simple statement, but Weiss felt a pang of remorse all the same. "Where would you like to start?"
"In person, first. When are you free?"
“All the time,” she said, unable to hide her amusement. “I tried being employed, once. Didn’t work out.”
The Faunus hummed. “Well, how about tomorrow? Noon, the water fountain off Central and First?”
Weiss got up and walked to the window, looking down at the location suggested. “Very well. Tomorrow at noon. I look forward to it.” She waited to see if Velvet would hang up or bid her farewell, but the silence stretched too long. “Is there anything you’d like to discuss now?”
Nothing for a while, and then she spoke softly. “How did I almost forget you? If I hadn’t found your number while going through the junk mail, I’m not sure if I would’ve remembered at all. That’s... not like me.”
“After you awoke, Blake confronted you, did she not?”
“We... got into an argument, yeah.” Velvet sighed, shifting her position slightly, the shuffling of fabric and her cheek against the microphone conveying slight discomfort. “She told me you’re crazy.”
“I wouldn’t say she’s wrong.” Turning away from the window, Weiss opted to set her sights on some meaningless task to occupy her hands. “And I’m sure she had some other unflattering things to say.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“She’s angry; it’s understandable.” Her fingers found their way to a handmade jewelry box from millennia ago, the paint chipped and cracked along the lid. “Painful memories are a burden on the soul. I gave both of you the choice- to remember or to forget. When you sought to forgive and forget your argument, all memories of me followed.” She pulled a necklace from within, a cat’s eye gem set in a flowering replica of deadly nightshade, framed by winds and tinted black. “It’s... probably for the best if you avoid mentioning me. If she wishes to remember, she will in her own time.”
Velvet sighed. “I think she already has. Blake’s been... distant the last few days. I couldn’t get her to tell me why but... she’s the one who usually tidies up. She probably saw your number and put it with the mail. Now... I just get the feeling that she regrets-”
“It’s not regret; it’s confusion,” she said, a frown touching her lips. “She has memories without context, over a dozen lives lurking behind her eyelids. Give her time.”
“If you say so.” A pause. “I was thinking about making her dinner tonight, see if that might cheer her up.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea.” Weiss smiled, replacing the necklace. “If you’re looking for ideas, there’s a website called ‘Eating for Six’ that has a robust menu. I’d suggest checking the ‘Nightowl’ tab.”
Over the past twenty years, she’d constructed the website, tweaking it here and there to help fill her days. Sometimes, her mouth would water just glancing at some of the recipes, remembering so many meals shared amid light laughter and good company.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Velvet replied. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there.”
When the line went dead, she pocketed the device and proceeded to beat down the rising tide of sadness welling in her heart. Finding her Nightowl- Blake, she supposed, since that seemed to be her name again- always proved to be the most emotionally arduous of reunions. She knew why, of course, but that didn’t make the process any less painful.
At least she could take solace in knowing that, when she dreamed, Blake enjoyed the peaceful serenity of her slumber.
Weiss sat on the fountain’s ledge wearing a modest, light blue dress, feet crossed at her ankles and hands in her lap. Unlike the other night, she neither wanted attention nor gained it, managing to blend into the dancing water well enough to escape most mortals’ notice. Remaining unseen continued to be a difficult skill to use, requiring her to concentrate; as a deity, she craved acknowledgement, desired attention, fed off adulation, for it would always be godly to be narcissistic, so to remove herself so forcefully from mortals’ perception drained her, but she couldn’t afford the distractions today.
She’d arrived early, at least half an hour prior to their meeting, to ensure she would have the time she needed to organize her thoughts. Ever since Velvet’s call, she found herself facing a bit of a dilemma on what to do at such a critical juncture. On the one hand, she could appeal to the Faunus as she had countless others and secure a reliable source of energy for at least a few years. However, she’d yet to encounter this particular conundrum, where a temporary partner shared both a soul that appealed to her and a living space with one of her chosen. On top of all this, she’d found Blake, who always seemed to be one of the trickier ones when it came to rebuilding their connection. They were all difficult to find at first but winning them over... her beloved Dragon always seemed the most ready, even after all these years, and her sweet Thief remained the most difficult, so she supposed her situation could be much worse.
In the end, there remained no contest between any new connections and those she’d endured almost three thousand years just to spend a few more decades with, her chosen few so dear and precious to her. In the same vein, it would be rude to cut all contact with Velvet sans explanation, so she diligently waited, noting the top of the hour by the oversized clock on an adjacent building chiming out.
“Weiss?”
She allowed herself a small smile. “Had you asked, I would’ve gladly joined you at the cafe.”
She turned her head, watching as the Faunus approached with a cup in her hand. “You saw me, I assume?”
“No. Sensed you would be more accurate.” Weiss watched as she was joined at the fountain’s edge, noting the abundance of signs that her companion was nervous. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“I just... don’t understand why your voice sounds so different from the night we met... or how, I suppose.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s obviously your voice but it’s... not at the same time. Somehow.”
“Ah. Well, simply put, neither of us is in the mood for liaisons of that nature.” She smiled wider. “Besides, you are immune to my tricks by this point. Those with souls like yours... I can capture you attention and appeal to you the same as any other, but my sway erodes very quickly.”
Velvet’s expression pinched together, gaze darting up and down the deity’s form. “You look the same but sound different- so your powers lie in your voice?”
“Yes,” she said, letting out a bitter chuckle. “Ironically, my ability to physically appear as the epitome of a mortal’s desires faded when they began claiming I only did so to consume the souls of men.” Her brows furrowed. “Which, frankly, is rather preposterous. I don’t like men, generally speaking.”
At that, the Faunus seemed to relax. “Then, when I first saw you and immediately wanted to introduce myself, before you started singing, that was all me?” She nodded. “Good.”
“I’m glad you find me so attractive.” They both laughed lightly. “All I truly did was encourage your inclinations. Provided additional motivation, one might say.”
“I tried telling Blake that,” Velvet replied, a frown touching her lips. “She seemed convinced you were just using me, that it wasn’t mutual.” Brown eyes turned to her. “She was... extremely adamant.”
“Don’t hold it against her. She has every right to be wary of me.” She reached out, covering the Faunus’ hand with her own- a comforting gesture, she hoped. “Blake and I have a history going back several millennia. In a lot of ways, she’s overwhelmed right now, processing half remembered emotions on her own. In time, she’ll decide to confront me or forget me, and I’ll have to live with that, but it’s her choice. Let her make it.”
“You make it seem so... final.” She looked away for a moment. “I... guess you’ve just gotten used to it after, what, three thousand years?”
“Over three thousand years and six amazing people.” A sigh slipped out as her expression fell, her gaze diverting to watch the dancing water. “I wish I could say it’s gotten easier each time. Unfortunately, it’s only more predictable with every iteration. Despite that, I’ve yet to find a sure fire way to regain those connections. It seems some new challenge arises every time I find one and... I am forced to do the best I can, the same as any mortal, and hope for the best. It’s my eternal punishment.”
Tears sprang to her eyes but she held them back through sheer force of will. In the spray, she could see a time long past, a small waterfall behind her temple where her chosen few would play in the summer. Laughter rang through the air, water splashed, and voices intertwined in mirth and light admonishments alike- it didn’t matter that she personally preferred colder weather; the warm summer days were some of her fondest memories.
“Weiss?” She blinked, pushing aside her recollections to focus on her present companion. “Do you talk about them often?” Velvet shuffled a little closer. “I... don’t mean to pry if you don’t want to talk about it but you seem like you could use a friend- someone to just listen.”
A wistful smile curled her lips. When necessity forced her to take partners to survive, she never mentioned those she sought and they never asked. Those she’d chosen had lived through the memories by her side; recalling them always required a careful approach, for there lurked pain around every corner if they crashed recklessly down memory lane. Thus, the ancient deity had only spoken of them aloud with the moon as her audience. She’d forsaken all other connections to her old life so she could move freely through mortal society and her sister rarely wanted to delve too deep into their halcyon days.
“I’d rather like that,” she said, standing up and offering a hand to Velvet. “Would you like to see them as well?”
On the way back to her penthouse, Weiss told their stories. Her fondest memories, their own explanations of life before coming to her temple, and the moments when she realized they were special and dear to her, but she never used the names they bore back then. Too confusing, too difficult for a mortal to keep track of, and she refrained from describing them in great detail for how often those little traits changed, too. All but the eyes, where their souls sparkled and shone brighter than the stars, and the names she gave them in her own mind to thread over a dozen lives together.
She spoke of her Nightowl first. Velvet thought it odd that Blake’s nickname had nothing to do with her Faunus heritage- though that, too, changed from life to life- but, when viewed through a classical lens, it made more sense. When she became the first of Weiss’ chosen, she would spend hours composing poetry and chronicling the stories of every member of the pantheon, from Mother down to the demigods who ran amok until they were crushed by Winter’s sword, and ultimately assembled a considerable library. Within the temple, she became the embodiment of wisdom and knowledge- and she burned more candles and oil than the rest of her attendants combined, staying up late and sleeping in until midday. Apparently, Blake maintained the same sleep schedule on her days off, something that brought a smile to Weiss’ lips.
Next came the Thief. A lonely orphan, forced to steal for survival- she crept into the temple seeking valuables and goods one night, hoping to raid the offerings left for the goddess. Red eyes, wide with terror when confronted by an angry deity trying to protect the only mortal who slept within the temple’s walls- it made for a poor first impression. But her Nightowl calmed her and her Thief possessed more than just the skills of her trade, falling to her knees and genuinely begging forgiveness. She offered her talents in penance and decorated the temple’s walls with artwork, many of which depicted either Weiss’ fury or her benevolence- warnings to others who might trespass in her sacred home. After a time, the deity forgave her Thief and watched in slight fascination as the two mortals inhabiting the temple grew closer. Her Nightowl taught her Thief to read and in return she drew the scenes from poetry and history, whatever to accompany the library’s contents. When given food and a proper bed, the woman saw fit to steal bits of their hearts and Weiss eventually took her as a lover, giving her a permanent place in the temple as the avatar of earnest penance.
“Did they- uh, Nightowl and Thief... were they ever together?” Velvet cocked her head to the side as they waited for a street light to change.
“Of course,” she replied, a smile on her lips. “None of my beloved chosen had want for company, carnal or otherwise, by the end. They had me and each other, though each had their preferences, of course, but they got along very well.” A laugh bubbled up as she shook her head fondly. “Though, it took some time, initially. They might have danced around each other for decades more were it not for my brave little Dragon.”
Her Dragon was a sight to behold, especially that first time she stepped into the temple. Bright and vibrant with smiling lilac eyes, she’d come from far away with all the strength of a warm summer storm crashing on a beach. Louder than the others, her sense of humor and adventure grated on the quieter Nightowl and Thief, but she’d come to the temple seeking something she’d lost: a sense of belonging. Behind her cheer lurked pain and, once she’d settled down some, her fierce loyalty and desire to help and protect won them over. She could build and craft- wood, metal, rock, the material didn’t matter- and constructed whatever was asked of her. Acclimated to her brash personality, the others began to bend as well, and laughter became commonplace. Her earnest devotion won Weiss over and her energy never faltered, enthusiasm only growing as she carved out her own spot within the temple and a place in the deity’s heart.
Then came perhaps the most... troublesome of her chosen, through virtually no fault of her own. Even considering the Thief’s introduction, the fourth to come to the temple seeking her had a difficult time finding her place among the others. With every addition to her temple thus far, Weiss’ popularity grew among mortals. She’d come to represent virtues they prized- wisdom, penance, loyalty- in addition to her longer held duties as keeper of elements and goddess of the harvest. However, taking the three mortals as lovers also gave her a reputation as a beacon of love, for she doted on her Nightowl, Thief, and Dragon often and any pilgrim to her temple could see that. Many tales circulated about how deeply she cared for her chosen, how all should aspire to obtain a love so pure, and the sort of boons she supposedly granted to those who endeavored to love as deeply.
When her sister- a deity of conflict and combat, war incarnate- became enraged at a slight paid her by a mortal tribe, Winter demanded they send their finest warrior to become a servant of the gods. Somehow, the message didn’t get relayed correctly, and Weiss found a woman marching into the temple and falling to her knees one chilly autumn day, swearing her allegiance a few months later. Her Gladiatrix, thinking her life now belonged to the deity of her choosing, had turned away from the combat she’d known all her life for the chance to serve one who encouraged love, something she’d longed for but never truly had during her time on the battlefield. Weiss couldn’t send her away, seeing the open honesty and brilliant hope shining in emerald eyes, and allowed her Gladiatrix to stay. She taught the others to fight and learned just as easily- she drank in their presence and reveled in a type of camaraderie that had been denied her for so long, being held up as a paragon of her people since she was very young. Among Weiss’ chosen, she was just as special as the others, and they crafted their own type of normal amid the scrolls and murals and benches. The deity came to adore her poise, which never seemed to diminish no matter how much she relaxed, and her Nightowl and Dragon took a liking to the warrior themselves, the Thief more content to remain companions rather than become lovers.
When Winter learned of the misunderstanding, however, she was furious.
“What did she do?” Rabbit ears twitched with concern as they stepping into the elevator together.
Weiss couldn’t help but laugh at the old memory. “Oh, I know my sister well enough. When she came to my temple seeking the mortal she’d demanded, I made an excuse of having to go find Gladiatrix in the fields and had Dragon entertain her in the meantime.” She lowered her voice, despite the two of them being the only occupants of the lift. “Two hours later, my sister had completely forgotten her anger. For all her fury, no one can stay mad around Dragon for long. She’s especially adept at lifting the moods of others and her laugh is absolutely infectious.”
“That’s it? She just... forgot?”
“Wars start and stop at the drop of a hat- sometimes, they’ve begun before anyone is even aware, and who you call friend one day could be foe the next, while a foe could be a friend when a greater threat appears. Such is the way of all conflict and my sister embodied that,” she said, sighing. “I let them talk for a few more hours before bringing Gladiatrix in and things worked themselves out from there. Winter couldn’t bear to upset Dragon by taking Gladiatrix away and admitted that her presence at my temple satisfied her demand.“ She smiled. “I saw more of her after that- my sister, I mean. She came by to visit Dragon and eventually bedded her as well, which worked out well for the mortals of the time. Content and happy from her visits, my sister saw fit to leash the dogs of war, so to speak, and Remnant enjoyed a period of peace.”
Confusion splashed across Velvet’s face. “Wait, so Dragon... you and your sister, uh, shared her?”
“Yes. She always had so much energy- there were some nights, I don’t think she even tried to sleep, more content to sneak into bed chambers and entice each of us into a few hours of either love making or cuddling. I daresay she’s almost always the most amorous, the most adventurous, with the softest heart and too much love in it.” Weiss noted her companion’s raised brow and eventually remembered; some things struck mortals slightly differently than they did her. “I never intended for her to take my sister as a lover, of course, but it made them both happy. I couldn’t begrudge them that. And it’s not like the three of us were ever together in that sense; when Winter came to visit, we saw less of Dragon for a few days outside of meals and the occasional walk through the fields, but things returned to normal when Winter left. It worked for us.”
“I guess that makes sense.” She blinked as a thought occurred to her. “How long did all this take? I mean, the last time all of Remnant was at peace ended four thousand years ago, but it started... five?”
“Closer to six now, but you’re not wrong. I met Nightowl- Blake for the first time just over seven thousand years ago. Over the course of three thousand years, I met the others, when I and all the members of the pantheon were revered the world over in some form or another, when I had all my strength.” Weiss glanced up at the lights indicating the floors as they ascended. Sometimes, living at the very top had its downsides. “These precious souls- I couldn’t lose them, so I extended their lives so they could remain at my side, tied their souls to mine with the strings of fate. My Thief, Dragon, and Gladiatrix had no families to go back to and my Nightowl watched over hers from afar. Of them, she understood my pain best, the sort of agony immortality places upon the soul- especially a lonely one. Nightowl lived in the temple for almost four hundred years before Thief arrived.”
Velvet’s eyes went wide. “Wow.” She blinked rapidly, likely trying to process the information. “So when you say you two have history... you’re really not joking.”
“I’m really not.”
“And there were two more?”
Weiss smiled, though a touch bittersweet. Of the six, she spent the least time with her last two chosen but they had grown just as dear to her, and their entrances into her existence came with their own special brand of fanfare. She still vividly remembered the commotion caused when the Seamstress arrived.
By then, the deity had come to represent love and the arts, and the mortal traveled far to see the temple for herself. She hailed from some noble lineage but, upon encountering the temple’s inhabitants, forsook her birthright to remain. She saw the artworks on the walls, the craftsmanship in the furniture, the elegance in the written word, and the dedication in their blades- all of which impressed her and spoke to a deep seated desire to create. From the offerings brought by pilgrims who visited the temple, she pulled fabrics from all over the world and wove them outfits fit for every occasion, each with their own distinctive flair. Chocolate eyes found every small detail and Weiss even procured threads and skins from her fellow deities to give her Seamstress, fascinated by the magic in her fingers and designs. Soon, she found her own place at the temple like all the others, and she combined her talents with theirs to create timeless masterpieces.
For the last of her chosen, though, the road to her temple had been the longest, and to her heart longer still. Another orphan, younger than her Thief, had come to the temple, seeking a home like her Dragon. Hearing the stories of a powerful deity who took mortals as lovers had enticed one abandoned by all others. She’d quite nearly sent the newcomer away on principle but the others begged her to show mercy. It didn’t make sense to her at first but she couldn’t deny them and she eventually came to admire how little her initial coldness seemed to bother him.
“Him?” Velvet’s ears perked, likely at her words and not the ding as they arrived at the penthouse.
“Hence my initial rejection,” she said with a wry grin while stepping out of the elevator. “I find myself drawn to the female form almost exclusively- and my Jester is that ‘almost’.”
At first, he helped where he could. He organized books with Nightowl, he fetched paint for Thief, he worked the bellows and hauled lumber for Dragon, he cleaned gear and sharpened blades for Gladiatrix, he picked flowers to make into dye for Seamstress- whatever task her lovers gave him, he would comply, always with a smile on his lips, just so happy to have a place to call home. As the years passed, he remained a bright spot at the temple, with just as much energy as Dragon and a mischievous streak a mile long, grey eyes shining as he climbed every surface imaginable and used his tail to startle or tickle whoever passed too close to him. To this day, she believed he never expected anything different; he certainly never pursued any of them or even suggested things should change, even jokingly referring to himself as their big brother and laughing at the misnomer. He could’ve lived out all his days at the temple and died, content he’d lived among those who accepted him without question. But she saw the ways the others looked at him- first Nightowl and Dragon, then Thief and Gladiatrix, and even Seamstress glanced a time or two- and she told them they could do more if they so wished. She loved them, all of them, and wouldn’t begrudge them this; they shared her and each other. What was one more? Her smiling Jester had earned his spot among them, for she did love him as dearly as the others. When she finally took him as a lover as well, she realized that the differences in their anatomies didn’t overpower the light in his soul, the same light that existed in her other lovers.
“We found a balance after that,” she said, leading the way up to the second floor of her penthouse and stopping in front of a locked room. Every security measure known to mortals and enough of her residual strength went into protecting the contents from any and all intruders and she carefully undid each one. “For a millennium, the seven of us lived in the temple together, and our days and nights were filled with joy. Sometimes, my sister would visit, and we’d all sup together- we knew true peace. We were friends, family, and we indulged our passions without restraint.” The door unlocked after she input the last code and slid aside. “They were good times.” Before stepping inside, she paused, a slight frown coming to her lips. “Oh, and there was also Myrtenaster but... I’d rather not speak of him.”
“Bad memories?” The Faunus’ brow pinched in concern but she waved it off, not wanting to delay any longer.
“Yes and no- it’s a much longer story for another time. Right now, I have a question.” Weiss watched her companion’s face, trying not to betray the hope rising in her heart. “With each name, each story... did you suddenly think of someone you know? Someone with the same eyes as I described?”
Velvet’s expression conveyed her surprise. “Well... yeah, now that you mention it. How did you know?”
“There’s no cause for alarm." She smiled, trying to keep the expression small but feeling the hope bolster all the same. "My chosen are drawn to each other. When I took them as lovers, I bound them to me with strings of fate, prolonging their lives.” Her gaze dropped as the memories began to creep at the edges of her mind. “When I lost them, I bound them to each other instead, fating their lives to be intertwined, that they might find their lost family and have the support they deserved if I couldn’t find them in time. They are drawn to each other because of this and it seems you’ve landed among them.”
Without further ado, she lead the way into the room, allowing the Faunus to follow at her own pace. She waited for the shocked gasp to turn into muttered wonder before steeling her nerves and looking around herself. In the years after she lost them, the deity had collected every painting, every sculpture, every depiction of her lovers that remained in the world. Most days, she couldn’t bear to look at them, especially during the lifetimes when their appearances deviated from her memories. It pained her now but she had to know, even as her gaze fell on the painting of Blake in her library, pouring over a stone tablet with a candle softly lighting the scene.- she had to know how close they would be to her memories this time.
“I’ve told you the names I have for them,” she said, pausing briefly to brace herself for the answers. “What do you call them?”
Velvet looked at the portrait of Blake, the spitting image of the Faunus she lived with, and nodded. “Well, that’s Blake.” She looked at the one depicting the Thief, brush in hand as she contemplated a half finished mural- one of the rare times her Nightowl and Seamstress joined forces to produce something truly beautiful. “That’s Emerald.” Next, her Dragon, bent over her work bench with the setting sun catching in her hair. “Yang.” The Gladiatrix, spear in hand and shield raised. “Pyrrha.” The Seamstress at her loom. “Coco.” Finally, her Jester, in the garden with his wide smile. “And Sun.”
“... six for six.” Tears pricked at her eyes. “That’s only happened once before. Do they- do they look like their portraits?”
Velvet nodded slowly. “Exactly like them.”
Her knees nearly buckled as she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that burst from her chest, tears slipping out to roll down her cheeks. That hadn't happened before- the one time they had their old names, they looked different, just enough details off to make the decades bittersweet. She'd waited and hoped for this day to come but could hardly believe it.
“I’ve found them. I’ve finally found them.”
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I'm A Search And Rescue Officer For The US Forest Service, I Have Some Stories To Tell
by searchandrescuewoods.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 (Final)
It's been way too long since I posted an update, and I'm sorry about that. There's also been some confusion about the new formatting requirements on the board, which I've cleared up. So these next few stories are going to be posted a little differently! They'll be in chronological order, and I'll do my best to tie them into each other as much as I can so it doesn't skip around too much.
When I started out as a rookie, no one had told me a lot about the job in terms of weird things that could happen. I'm assuming this was largely to prevent me from freaking out and abandoning the park. But a few months into my service, when I was still a rookie, a friend and I were drunk at a party, and he opened up a bit: "Yeah, it can get a little crazy out there, I guess. I think the worst are the ones where people die when they just shouldn't, you know? Or when we find 'em dead like ten minutes after someone says they saw them last. 'They were fine when I passed them on the switchback, I swear!' That sort of shit. Like, take this guy who I found one spring out on a really popular trail. Someone comes into the VC freaking about about some guy who's lying in the middle of the path in this giant pool of blood. So we run out there, and we find this guy dead as a doornail. Which he absolutely should be, because the back of his head is like mashed potatoes. The skull is decimated, brains are leaking out like custard filling, and they guy's old so you figure yeah, he probably fell and hit his head. Old people fall all the time, it's no big deal. Except that this area where he fell doesn't HAVE any big rocks. There's not even any stumps or big branches. And on top of that, there's no blood trail, so he clearly died where he dropped. Now that's when you'd turn to murder, but there were people just out of line of sight with the guy. If someone came up behind him and murdered him, there's no way someone wouldn't have heard. And again, even if someone had, there'd be a blood trail, spatter all over the place. But everyone on the scene said it looked exactly like he'd fallen and smashed his head on a rock. So what the fuck did he hit his head on? And then there was this lady I found in a different park about five years ago, back when I was upstate. We found her in the middle of a stand of big junipers, curled around the trunk, like she was huggin' it. We pick her up to move her, and a fucking waterfall comes out of her mouth, splashes all over my shoes. Her clothes are dry, and her hair is dry, but the amount of water in her lungs and stomach was phenomenal. Unreal, man. Coroners report? Says the cause of death was drowning. Her lungs were completely full of water. This, even though we're in the middle of the high desert, and there isn't a body of water for miles. No puddles, no nothing. No signs of anyone else being out there. I mean yeah, it's possible they were murdered. But why go out of the way to do it like that? Why not just stab 'em and be done with it? I dunno, it just sits weird with me."
Now of course, that freaked me out a little. But we were wasted, and I guess I sort of wrote it off as a fluke. I also assumed there was exaggeration there, since, you know, we were wasted.
Now, I don't like talking about this next case very much. It was an awful one that I've done my best to forget about, but of course that's easier said than done. This happened about six months after the conversation with my friend at the bar, and up until that point I hadn't had a lot of really weird shit go down. A few things here and there, and of course the stairs, but it's amazingly easy to get used to stuff like that when it's treated as if it's normal. This case was a little different.
A guy with Down's Syndrome in his 20s went missing after his family lost sight of him on a major path. That was odd in and of itself, because this guy never left his mom's side. She was absolutely convinced he'd been kidnapped, and unfortunately a Ranger who isn't with the park anymore insinuated that no one was going to kidnap someone... well, with that kind of disability. Not very tactful, to say the least. We wasted a lot of time trying to calm her down enough to get information about him, and then we put out an official missing persons call. Because of the urgency of the situation, him being mostly unable to function alone, we had local police come in and help us. We didn't find him the first night, which was heartbreaking. None of us wanted to think of him being alone out there. We assumed he'd just kept wandering, and was staying ahead of us. We brought out helis the next day, and they spotted him in a little canyon. I helped bring him back up, but he was in bad shape, and I think we all knew he wasn't gonna make it. He'd fallen and broken his spine, and couldn't feel his lower half. He'd also broken both his legs, one at the femur, and he'd lost a lot of blood. He was confused and scared while he was alone, so he'd probably exacerbated the injuries by dragging himself a little ways. I know it sounds awful, but while I was riding in the copter with him, I asked him why he'd wandered off. I just wanted something to tell his mother, to let her know it wasn't her fault, because he was fading fast and I didn't think she'd get to ask him herself. He was crying, and he said something about how 'the little sad boy' had wanted him to come play. He said the little boy wanted to 'trade' so he could 'go home'. Then he closed his eyes, and when he woke up again, he was in the canyon. I'm not sure that's exactly what he said, but it was what I thought the gist of it was. He kept crying, asking where his mommy was, and I held his hand and tried my best to keep him calm. 'It was cold out there.' He kept saying that. 'It was cold out there. My legs was frozen. It was cold out there. It's cold in me.' He was getting even weaker, so he eventually stopped talking, and he closed his eyes for a while. Then, when we were about five minutes from the hospital, he looked right at me, with these big tears running down his face, and he said 'Mama won't see me no more. Love mama, wish she was here.' And he closed his eyes and he just... never woke up. It was horrible, and I don't like talking about it. That case was one of the first ones that really rattled me badly.
Because of how badly it affected me, I reached out to a senior Ranger, and who ended up helping me through it. As time went on, and we got to know each other better, he ended up sharing one of his own stories with me. It was disturbing, but it helped to know that I wasn't the only one affected by the things going on out there. "I think this must have happened before you got here, because I think if it had happened while you were here you'd have remembered it. I know it didn't end up in the news, for some reason, but I think most people who've been here long enough know about it. The park sold off a portion of land to a logging company, and it was a really controversial thing. But it wasn't that large or old of a plot, and it was right after the recession, so we needed cash bad. Anyway, they were felling this plot of land, and we get a call that we need to get our supervisors out right away. I don't know why, but they ended up sending me and a few other guys along with the heads, I guess for power in numbers, to see what was up. We got there, and all these guys are crowded around a tree that they've just cut down. They're all pissed off and freaking out and the foreman comes over and says he wants to know what we think we're up to. "What the hell y'all think this is, some kinda sick joke? You've got a lot of fuckin' nerve pulling this shit, we bought this land fair and square!" Well we don't know what the hell he's talking about, so he brings us over to this felled tree and points at it and tells us that when they cut it down, it was just like this, and they'll be damned if they put it there. The inside of the tree was all rotted out and hollow in one spot, and when they'd cut it down it had exposed that chamber, and inside it is a hand. Like a perfectly severed hand. And looks like it's actually fused with the inside of the tree. Well now we think THEY'RE pulling a joke, so we tell them that we don't like being fucked with, and we start to leave, but they tell us they've already called the cops, and that they'll go right to the media if we don't stick around. Well that gets the heads' attention, so they stick around and talk to the police about it. Everyone is denying that they put the hand in there, and besides, how would anyone have even done it? It's clearly a real hand, but it's not mummified or skeletal. It's brand new, probably not even a day old. And it is definitely fused with the wood, you can see that it's coming right out of it. The loggers, they insist that they didn't put it there. Somehow, this fresh human hand ended up fused to the inside of this living tree. The cops have them cut up that section of tree into a movable chunk. Then they take the hand away, and the area is closed off. There was a pretty big investigation, but I know they didn't find get any answers. Now it's become this legend, and as far as I know we haven't sold any more property for logging."
As you all know, I went to a training seminar recently, and heard some amazing and horrible things there. One of the guys I talked to while I was there told me a story when we were all around the campfire one night. We were both pretty drunk, you'll see a pattern here, and we were swapping stories. He told me this one: "Me and another guy were out on a field search because some campers reported screaming noises at night. So we head out there to look for whatever fucking mountain lion has wandered into the area, and I'm pissed. We've had three of them show up in the camping areas that year alone and I'm getting tired as hell of constantly having to deal with them. Plus, I just don't like them anyway. They're a pain in the ass and they're loud and they scare the shit out of me. Fuckin' cats. Pieces of shit. I'm groanin' about it to the guy I'm with and he thinks it's a real fuckin' riot. So we're seeing all these broken branches and what look like dens and we're pretty sure we know where this thing is. I call in and they tell me to confirm if possible, which you know just means they want to you to step in a big pile of shit and use that as proof. I'm not seeing any, though, so I basically just tell 'em to shove it, I'm done. We know that damn thing's out here somewhere, even if I'm not stepping in its shit or inside its mouth or whatever. Guy I'm with wanders off to take a piss or whatever, and I stay behind watching this little burrow under a tree to see if maybe a fox or somethin' is living under it, 'cause I love foxes, man. They're cute as hell. But anyway, I'm watching this tree and I start hearing branches crackling and it's coming from the direction my partner went opposite of. Now I've got my pistol, but you and I both know that's not gonna do shit against a cat. I cock it and holler for my partner to get his dumb ass back, but he's too far and he can't hear me. I stand up and get my sights on where the thing is approaching, and I shit you not, man, I just about peed myself. This guy is coming toward me, and he's back-flipping through the fucking woods. Like, instead of walking, he's doing these crazy fucking back-flips, and I swear to God he cleared every fucking log and bush in his path, it was like he knew right where he was going. I yell at the guy to stop right where he is, that I'm pointing a gun right at him, but he keeps coming, and I just kinda lost it. I shot at the ground in front of him, and it was a dumb fuckin' thing to do, but man I didn't want this guy anywhere near me. When I fired, he was about fifty yards from me, and as soon as the gun goes off, he whirls around and goes off, back-flipping back into the woods. My partner hears my gun go off and runs back and asks what's up, and I tell him there's some fucking weirdo out here hopped up on God knows what, and we need to get the hell out of Dodge. I let the cops know what happened, and I didn't get in any trouble for firing, but man, I don't know what that motherfucker was on but I've never seen anything like that before. Shit was absolutely butt-fuck crazy."
I think we can agree that there's stuff going on out here in the woods, and while I'm not going to spout off about what it could be, or offer any theories, what I want people to take away from all of this is that it is so damn important to be safe when you're out there. I know a lot of you think you're invincible, but the fact is that you CAN die out there, or be hurt, or go missing. It's easier than you'd ever imagine.
I apologize for this relatively short update, guys, I will do my absolute best to continue this series as soon as possible. Thanks for all your continuing support, it means the world to me!
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