#do you understand the severity of what surrounds the entire thing? like hello???

[maxellminidisc]

Truly TRULY not everything requires you to write fan fiction about it. I swear to god you people have toxic waste between your ears or something....

[hyperblue]

Everyday I scroll through your blog just to remember what happiness is.

Also, I did have an actual question or request(?) I suppose, I want, NEED more details about your specific AU with Wendy and Jackie, what fo they enjoy? How often do they fight with their fathers? What do they grow up to be??? You've said before that Jack is scared of his powers, so does this result in him going out and having a 'normal' life? How would that affect his relationships with his family?

Of course you don't have to answer but I am very curious!

hello there!! I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying my blog, thank you for your kind words 💙

and yes i will gladly answer your questions! this will probably get a bit long, i hope that's okay with you

au's mainly focused on twins when they are around 17-18 (kind of symbolic to tim's age when he cloned them because I'm prosy like that)

one of the main reasons why I've decided to go for twins in this au (aside from being indecisive about whether it should be a boy or a girl) is because it gives me a chance to demonstrate how two people can have same upbringing/surrounding and be influenced by the very same group of people AND still form entirely different perspectives and opinions on certain things. i'm going to use both kids' relationships with kon as one of the clearest examples:

wendy appreciates kon dearly, she thinks very high of him and constantly seeks for his company and attention. on the other hand, as she gets older, it becomes really awkward for her to be around him because she's old enough now to actually understand and pear wiggle the whole "my dad cloned me out of this dead dude's dna without his consent" thing in her head, until she has to stop for a moment and go: "wow. that was So Not Okay of my dad." on top of that she's facing a major identity crisis because you know, teens, and starts to question her own existence and even tim's love for her, because she can't be sure now if he actually loves her or if she's just a good enough replacement of what her dad could have loved, but never got an actual chance. which eventually leads to her bottling up lots of anger towards tim, because obviously it's his fault that she can't look kon in the eyes anymore, and none of this would've happened if he just had his shit together and didn't try to clone kon all those years ago (and she's not even entirely wrong)

what she CAN'T fathom just yet is the fact that she loves kon so much partly because she got to see him through tim's eyes; part of her affection for kon is deeply rooted in a way tim spoke about him when she was a kid, always loving, always in awe — essentially, tim was the first person who taught wendy the concept and the feeling of love. and even her awkwardness and guilt that she's experiencing around kon are inherited from tim; she's just mirroring her dad's own feelings about himself without even realizing it

jackie, on the other hand... it would be easy to say that he's just not as close with kon as his sister, but when you start to look at the reasons, well, it gets a little bit messy. you see, jackie was always a "daddy's boy"; he and tim were inseparable when jackie was a kid, they still are, actually, it's just that tim only now starts to realize negative side effects of their closeness but that's for another post. not only that, he's also much more... observant than wendy in a lot of ways, so while wendy was soaking in tim's affection for kon as a sponge to eventually make it her own, jackie couldn't help but notice how hard it was for his dad to have kon in his life only as a co-parent and nothing more (they've bended their friendship as years went by, but it was never easy for both of them); not to mention that tim, to this day, experiences a very severe depressive episodes, to the point of not being able to get out of bed — jackie was very affected by it too growing up. so to him, as of now, it doesn't make sense for kon to stick around and be his usual "weekend dad" if he's not willing to stay forever, and he's kind of resentful towards kon, because he always felt sorry for tim in this situation. not that he doesn't understand why exactly it's the way that it is, it's just that his philosophy on that matter is: if you can't stay forever, do not bother visiting us at all, and stop giving dad any hope for more. jackie's anxiety regarding his kryptonian powers also does not help at all, more on that later

(got carried away with this, sorry, i just had to take this opportunity to explain why there are twins in my timkon clone baby au)

so about the kids, wendy is a rebellious soul and free spirit, and her interests really show that about her — she's been horse riding since she was five, tim was a bit hesitant about it at first, but with damian's help they managed to convince him that everything is going to be okay; damian has also bought wendy her own horse, the one she's connected with in her equestrian club (damian is her favorite uncle ever since; she did not let him call her horse a "Bathourse", tho). aside from that she plays guitar just a little, tim's also tried to teach her piano but ended up failing miserably; he also wasn't able to pass on to her his music taste, wendy is almost strictly a pop girl. she's not really good at photography from professional point of view, but she almost always has her little digital camera with her to take snapshots of memories

(she's also really into true crime videos/podcasts, it's one of the activities that she likes to share with her dad; most times after a fight with tim, if she wants to make up or apologize, she just sneaks into his office and starts playing random true crime youtube video at full volume)

jackie doesn't really have a "main" interest or hobby, even though he's passionate about a lot of things, some of them include: art (because damian), sports (although he's not playing himself), cars (because tim), photography (once again, tim), also I'm pretty sure he's good at math — a little bit of this, a little bit of that, as he himself would say. it could create a major problem for him to choose between college programs if he hadn't already decided that he is going to inherit drake industries, so business it is. tim actually had a whole conversation with him, like, "are you SURE that's what you want," resulting in jackie just. shrugging his shoulders, because it's just about as good as any other choice; not that he has some big, special dream anyway. also i think that he probably skipped a class (wendy did not; she's not too excited about going to college)

speaking about jackie being scared of his powers, it's most likely the result of an accident/series of accidents from his childhood when he unwillingly hurt tim or demolished something during tantrums (he used to throw them a lot when he was younger); kon has offered his help at figuring out how to control it, of course, but if for wendy it was existing and she wanted to get even stronger and make more progress, for jackie it was always about keeping it at bay so to not hurt anyone else. he never really wanted to become a vigilante either, which is good enough for tim because he's worried enough about wendy rushing to the field; he's as close at being a civilian as you can possibly get while growing up with bats and having a kryptonian dad. mostly it's a relief for his family ("at least one of us is going to graduate college"), although wendy can't stop bugging him about joining in and being the coolest vigilante twins gotham has ever seen. it's a bit isolating for him, sure, considering that everyone in his family is a superhero of some sort, but with tim mostly being a stay at home dad and only managing comms every once in a while it turned out better than it could

it DID get long, and i start to lose the train of thoughts; nevertheless, i hope you'll enjoy this answer 💙 feel free to ask more about them, I'm always up to chatting about my babies

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hello Hazel! Hope you've been doing alright! I'm here for the thaumaturgy event, so I'll get to request; i wish to have a divination with alhaitham, with some frankincense, lavender, and a yellow candle too. Thank you in advance, and hope you have a great weekend ahead! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)✨

Frankincense (confidence), Lavender (comfort, calm), Yellow Candle (success, creativity) Alhaitham x gn reader | Divination Ritual warning: slight anxiety about research paper

You tried to minimize your fidgeting but the ticking clock, the shuffling of books and focused feet, and the subtle rattle of Althaitham's clothes were trying your patience. You cracked your knuckles for the tenth time and turned to the window.

Below, people went on about their days. You could see them, small and uncaring to the quiet stress you swore seeped from the halls of the Akademiya. In a way you were jealous. Jealous of how frivolous and free their days were while you were stuck in this glass dome, surrounded by books and students all competing to outshine each other.

You thought a little friendly competition was fine. A good rivalry did wonders to boost output and progress, but what you found wrapped in the guise of innovation and discovery was more like a war where both sides liked to break the rules.

Alhaitham hummed quietly to himself. You glanced his way just in time to see him mark something in the margins of your work. "Were my calculations incorrect?"

"Those are fine," he replied and turned the page. It felt like several hours passed before he returned the sheets of paper to the small folder and slid the whole packet across the table.

"What did you think?" you asked, almost too eagerly as you snatched the file and fell into the chair opposite him. Without waiting, you scanned the papers inch by painstaking inch.

"I found the overall composition adequate. To draft a thesis on the Composition of Elemental Reactions is not necessarily a creative one."

You nodded and scanned his notes on page two. "I know, trust me. But none of the articles I read explored the mental and physical toll on the body of a vision user so I figured this might be worthwhile. Oh, what did you think about the section on the Degradation of Synapsis? Were my charts detailed?"

"They leaned toward your point, however -"

"I know. My sample size is way too small. It's kinda hard to convince people to let me poke around in their minds, ya know. But, if they make me a Dastur I'll be able to get more funding. Huh. You didn't like this?" You slid the paper across the table to Alhaitham. He glanced at it for less than a second.

"The points are contradictory."

"What? How?"

Alhaitham pointed to the document and you leaned forward to get a better view. It was hilarious how obvious it became when he explained it. Though you spent almost an entire year on this project, he seemed to understand it in ways you could never. It was frustrating but also inspiring. One day you hoped to be of equal standing.

That's why you fought so hard. So you could be seen by him, noticed. He felt little for social engagements, and rarely participated in group activities but when it came to study, research, and the unknown, his attention opened up and drew you in like falling sand through widening cracks.

"I see," you said but you were distracted. Distracted by his eyelashes, the way his hair fell over them when he looked down, the elegance of his lips when he spoke. You were transfixed and absolutely not focused on what he was saying.

"You're doing that thing again," he commented and slid the paper back to you.

"What thing?"

"Staring at me."

Your cheeks erupted in heat. "I was listening to you, I swear."

"Of course you were," he said, the slightest hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Do you have what you need then?" he asked.

"I think I do, yeah." But you really weren't sure. This was the culmination of all your work, the chance to prove to everyone here you were worthy. To prove to those who doubted you, your parents, the scholars, to Alhaitham. To yourself. You wanted this.

"When is your presentation?"

"Two days from now. I want to throw up," you joked, reordering your papers and trying to keep your hands from shaking. "Thanks for looking it over. I'll take some time tonight to review them and make changes."

"Best to you then." Alhaitham rose. Normally you would have felt sad at the sudden parting but this was his way. When duty was done, so was he. You pinched the edge of the papers so they sat neatly in their folder when something warm and looming drew your eyes upward. Alhaitham stood beside you, his palm flush against the table, his hair dangling just within view. It took everything in you to fall off the other side of your chair. "When you first approached me, I had my concerns about your tenacity. Kindheartedness paves the way for little advancement in the Akademiya. Yet, in that time I have witnessed your resolve, and seen the beliefs you hold from beginning to end. And though I have and will continue to caution you, it seems I can put worry to rest as it's reasonable to assume you will not be led astray."

You gazed at him, surprised and moved by his words. "That's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me." You chuckled and hoped he didn't notice the rim of tears threatening to spill over.

"Thank you," he said, holding little reaction to the sound of your laughter as it filled your little corner of the library. "You have more work to do."

"Aha, yes. I do. Thank you again."

He nodded and lifted off the table. "Should you require a space to practice, you are welcome to find me in my office. I will be sure to leave my day undisturbed so you may come when you wish."

You froze, blinked. "Oh, okay. T-thanks."

He stared at you for a moment before reaching out to touch your Akasha. A soft ping filled your head followed by a message: a series of numbers. "What is -?"

"The code to my office. It will be locked when you arrive." You stared at the numbers, your heart thudding in your chest. Alhaitham moved but stopped a few strides away and looked over his shoulder. "This may be obvious but do not share that with anyone."

"Of course," you said before watching him walk through the open, sun-filled library while your hand hovered above your ear unable to focus on anything other than the lingering sensation of his fingers against it.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

Master Anthology

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[landwriter]

oh menacing writer of the land, I bow to thee. forgive me for my intrusion, for I come to you with great reverence. might I be granted with the holy scripture of the musician!dream x professor hob au? I bring an offering of information on touring, musician life + music industry insight, should you so graciously answer my prayers 🙏

a handsome gift! the least I can offer is more twitter beef au!! most of this was written right in my tumblr drafts when I was still labouring under the delusion that was I was doing could be called "describe the fic you would write" - hob learns about The Diss Track. in his introduction to english lit class:

On Thursday morning, Hob is walking to his lecture, wearing his one sweatervest, because he can, thank you very much. Morpheus hadn't posted in over a day, and he supposes that's just the speed of the internet, and their little battle of wits is over. When he gets into the hall and sets his bag down, every single one of his students looks up at once. And several young people who - who are not even his students, he thinks.

"Right, hello class. Good to see you all here and keen on our last lecture before winter break. And welcome to the new faces as well. I can only assume you're here because of your interest in Marlowe."

"Oh my god," someone says at the back, loud enough for Hob to hear. "He's wearing the vest." He firmly reminds himself this is exactly what he wanted.

Amanda, who sits at the front and always does the readings, raises her hand. Hob calls on her in relief.

"Uh. Professor. We love Marlowe. But haven't you seen it yet?"

Hob had forgotten to silence his phone and it's started buzzing. He ignores it.

"Seen what," he says, very levelly. Smiling firmly. Not at all panicking. Ignoring his students' exchanged glances.

"The song."

"It's a diss track," says another student.

"Sorry, yeah, the diss track."

The entire lecture hall is faintly vibrating with anticipation.

"Is there swearing?" he asks, "I mean, more than I do in class. Anything particularly offensive?"

"No, professor," she says, understanding immediately.

"Well, I suspect I'll find it pretty quickly if I check my phone just now, and that only half of you are here for Marlowe anyways, so let's just put it on, shall we?"

Some kids actually cheer. "Enough of that," he says, "We're going to have a rigorous academic discussion about it afterwards." Then, because he cannot and will not help himself, he adds, "Presuming, of course, there is sufficient subject matter to engage with."

He pulls out his phone and fails utterly to hide his grin at the chorus of ooohs. Someone in the back actually shouts, "Get him, professor!"

Sure enough, the same video has been sent to him half a dozen times. He pulls it up, gets it displayed on the lecture hall's screen, and presses play.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s see what all this fuss is all about.”

He has enough professional goodwill from years of teaching to do this kind of stupid thing, and it's nice to cash it in, sometimes. He likes to be the cool professor when he can. Even in a sweatervest.

He leans back against the lectern to watch. It's not Morpheus on screen, but a woman that Hob distantly recognizes. She's gorgeous, and apparently, given the rapturous whispers behind him, also at least a little famous. She's surrounded by takeaway containers, fiddling with her phone until music starts playing. "Good job, baby brother." She takes a sip of her beer and then wipes her mouth, and grins brightly right at the camera. "This one's for you, prof," she says, laughing.

Afterwards, the entire lecture hall is silent. Hob is silent.

"Holy shit," says a student, and Hob turns around, face burning. "She murdered you."

Hob gathers himself. He feels a little dizzy. It might low blood sugar. Or love.

"Indeed. Right. Well. Certainly a lot to unpack there." His hands are a little sweaty. It's definitely love. "This isn’t a classics class, but I know some of you are classics students and would be happy to educate us, so let’s start with that parallel made right at the start between the Lotophagi - that’s the lotus-eaters from The Odyssey - and the concept of academia as an ivory tower. Who wants to talk about that?"

Five different hands shoot up. "Wow. Okay, okay," he laughs. "Tristan, start us off."

In the next 80 minutes, he hardly gets a word in edgewise. He is, absolutely gloriously, playing discussion moderator instead of lecturer. Hob knows, feels it in his gut even now, that he will look back on this as one of the best classes he’s ever held. Students are twisting around in their chairs to engage with each other.

It is, he thinks, absolutely worth a bit of murdering.

[cartoonrival]

hii can you tell me more about that time sonic yelled at silver in a hospital (◕‿◕✿) <- imagine that thing is fluttering it’s lashes convincingly

HELLO i would love to. so silver's story in archie is that they are CONVINCED that there's a traitor amongst the original knothole freedom fighters. in archie, their future is a lot more in tact, so theyve been doing research in decrepit libraries and stuff trying to figure out what happened, and they're certain that 200 years ago, one of the freedom fighters double crossed their teammates and doomed the world.

silver tends to. jump to conclusions. a lot. and this is understandable considering everything is fucked and its scary and terrible and the weight of fixing it is on One Teenager's Shoulders. so they are wrong A Lot. they bring it up pretty much every time they see sonic, accuse rotor, etc, and the ffs find it a bit ANNOYING that someone would think one of their closest friends would turn against them, but ultimately its water under the bridge once silver realize each theory wasnt true, apologizes, they move on, silver keeps searching.

the hospital scene is sonic's final straw. ixis naugus took the throne, sally was roboticized, and antoine is in a coma. quack can't even be sure he'll wake UP. and while sonic is grieving in his room, picking at his guitar listening to amy sobbing in the living room with his parents, silver shows up and declares that they've FINALLY found the true traitor of the freedom fighters: it's antoine. and sonic fucking LOSES IT. he grabs silver by their quills and DRAGS them through the city, bursts into antoine's room where he's prone in bed, unresponsive, surrounded by flowers and balloons and well-wishing cards, and throws silver against the foot of the bed so they can see the man theyve just accused of being a traitor. really looks like he's about to walk off to join eggman doesn't he.

sonic's closest friends, the people who he has lived and fought alongside for basically his entire life, are kind of being shot down like FLIES, and here comes SILVER THE HEDGEHOG (who the hell even is this guy, where did they even come from), waltzing in and insisting that THEY know sonic's friends better than he does, so well in fact that they're sure they've been lying through their teeth to him.

that moment is veeerry much an explosion of a LOT of pent up anger and grief over the current state of things; the freedom fighters are LOSING. the people who carried sonic through some of the worst points of the war are being captured, dying, nicole was banished from the city, bunnie feels so guilty over antoine's fate that she's RUN AWAY without saying where she's going, geoffrey is back and ruining everything, its all gone to SHIT.

sonic doesnt really give a shit how well-meaning silver is, if theyre going to show up without having experienced any of the horror that sonic is currently living through and accuse the ONLY PEOPLE who have been with sonic through EVERYTHING of being BACKSTABBERS, several of whom have all but SACRIFICED THEMSELVES to save the world, then they should get fucked. to put it simply.

[acourtofthought]

A penny for your thoughts?

I seen discussion on feeling a lot, and how we don't really know how Lucien truly feel about Elain at this time. Whereas we know Az at least fantasizes about Elain, and desires her.

some say we do know how Lucien feel, because we got a snippet of it when Feyre was in his mind

"taste her, smell her"

and that this thoughts overall, show that Lucien just like Az desires Elain in a carnal way, and some have come to say if people scrutinize Azriel for these thoughts why not Lucien.

Personally I don't think Az desire for Elain can be compare or called the same as Lucien.

why?

because Az desire is willing, brought upon by himself, fantasies he thought of by himself. Now Lucien, while he may grow to feel this way as well, they way is explain, these thought are brought upon him by the bond and is hard to tell if this is what he truly desire.

what re you thought on this?

Hello!

I think it's tough when you pit Lucien's POV against Azriel's POV because there are some very major differences.

Lucien's POV occurred after he met Elain for what was basically the very first time and where the bond was a struggle for him to control (when you look back on Rhys, we see that it's not easy to hold back in the early days of a bond snapping into place however the pull of it does seem to somewhat settle. It's not something that leaves them mindless to their base instincts 100% of the time.)

Azriel's POV happened when he had known Elain for well over a year.

So right there I think it's normal that we should expect some differences in what they think and how they act. Because Az (according to some) is supposed to have feelings of love for Elain in his POV. He's spent time with her without her sisters monitoring things and making it known (as in the case of Nesta in ACOWAR) that they had major issues with Lucien being near Elain so he by default should know more about her, have an insight into who she is, know what's bothering her, acknowledge her growth, etc., but it doesn't seem he does.

Also, Elain has put up a block in getting to know Lucien because she's fighting the bond but she's not done the same with Az so again, we'd expect that he would have an understanding of her desires, her fears, etc. in a way that Lucien would not (especially upon first meeting her) but it doesn't seem he does.

Not to mention Az was able to spend time with Elain after she started finding her footing. I wouldn't say she's entirely healed from her trauma but she's been much more open and communicative on a day to day basis than how she was when Lucien first met her. I don't even mean around Az but her sisters and the IC. He's been able to observe her when surrounded by others in a setting she's somewhat comfortable in. When Lucien first met her she was thoroughly devastated by being made into something she recently feared and was still in love with Graysen. Still ENGAGED to Graysen. Also Lucien is severely struggling with guilt in his POV. He was just chased out of his home, spent centuries believing Jesminda was his mate, he remained loyal to her memory by never opening himself up to another emotionally and he carries guilt for her death only to be completely blindsided by the realization that Elain, who is engaged to a human and has no need for him, is his mate. Az might be struggling with knowing Mor will never love him but I have to say, he's not dealing with half of what Lucien is. And again, that is going to create differences in their thoughts in their POVs.

I think Lucien is definitely struggling with the pull he feels to Elain and you're not wrong in the fact that "touch her, smell her, taste her" is not of his own doing. But he shuts down his instincts right away and doesn't let them cloud his actions which I think is very important. The bond at times tries to force his hand but we see his restraint in holding it back.

However I do think the, "But he couldn't breath as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen" is all him. Feyre once thought the same of Rhys long before she knew of their bond so I don't think it's fair to blame everything on the bond.

Did Cassian's pull to Nesta and desire to be physical make his interest in her less valid because of the bond?

Did Rhys's pull to Feyre and desire to be physical make his interest in her less valid because of the bond?

And does Az's physical interest in Elain make his emotions more valid because he doesn't have a bond even though he was recently looking at Mor with lust and hunger too? Physical attraction because you find someone hot or physical attraction because of the bond, it really doesn't matter all that much. I don't think either wins anyone more points. Especially when it's canon that Elain is beautiful. Even without the bond I'm pretty sure Lucien would have found her appealing since even the females remark on her beauty.

I think we also got confirmation that Lucien wasn't just lusting after Elain in a carnal way considering the reason we got Lucien's POV in the first place. Feyre was privy to Lucien's thoughts (whereas only the reader was privy to Azriel's). If Feyre was concerned about his intentions I doubt she would have allowed him near her again. Instead we get this, "I needed to be sure that he wasn't about to try to grab her, to sell us out." "And did you get an answer to that?" "I think so. It wasn't just about what he thought - it was the ...feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And ...sorrow. Longing."

Concern for her. After only just meeting her. Lucien is definitely not in love with Elain at this point but, I don't think the feelings Feyre notes him as having are bad things especially when you consider that Cassian also expressed concern for Nesta multiple times as well as, "I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian's eyes as he gazed at my sister. The sorrow. And the longing". That along with the males worrying about the females weight seems to be a pattern for SJM endgame couples. Rhys worried about how much weight Feyre had lost, Cassian too, and Lucien, when he thought "Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand?" That concern came about before we see the instincts riding him with "Touch her, smell her, taste her -"

I don't think Az showed concern for anyone but himself in his POV chapter. He was worried about his scars, the bad things he's done, that Elain knows why HE has been avoiding dinners and stood away from the fire, that HIS shadows disappear around her. Where were there any thoughts of Elain and his concern over the way Nesta had talked to her and the fights the sisters had? Where were thoughts of how far Elain had come since she first came to Velaris? Where was his concern about whether Elain was struggling after having seen Lucien?

The question shouldn't be whose physical attraction is more valid, Az because he doesn't have a bond or Lucien's considering he shares a bond with her.

Physical attraction is not the point. He's hot, she's hot, Az is hot, everyone is hot and if someone is single, they're all bound to be interested at some point.

What matters is how compatible two characters are because that's what makes an SJM endgame couple. Elain and Lucien are both dealing with some heavy stuff, even more so than Az, yet they were given this very intense bond when they were total strangers. But if you strip the bond away and Elain met Az and Lucien at the same time in the same place, I don't know how anyone can deny that Lucien and Elain are very compatible. Neither prefers to resort to violence (while it's Az's m.o), they both really love nature and the outdoors (while we get no hints that Az does), they are both social and enjoy parties (we are specifically told Az prefers to keep to himself), they are both more concerned with how they present themselves in terms of appearance than the other characters are, they both value tradition (while Az seems to participate because of what it means to others, not because it means something deep to him).

What matters is how much the male is accepting the females growth as she moves through the series:

Lucien: "I heard you made the killing blow"

Azriel: There is an innate darkness to the Dead Trove that Elain should not be exposed to".

What matters is, regardless of the reason, Lucien is STILL staring at Elain with longing 2/3 through Silver Flames (both Rhys and Cassian stared at their mates with longing and ended up with them) while Az is finding himself amused by Gwyn, challenging Gwyn, noting how far she's come since when he first met her, feeling something spark in his chest for her, saying that he believes in her (and Nesta and Emerie) to make it through the Rite.

Az came about his lust for Elain in the good old fashioned way but that doesn't mean what he feels is love or that it hints at endgame potential.

Tamlin came about his lust for Feyre the good old fashioned way yet the mating bond still won out in the end.

I'm sorry that I have a difference of opinion than you, maybe you were expecting it based on my blog, but I do appreciate that your phrasing was respectful.

[7grandmel]

Todays rips: 22/02/2024

Collision Clouds and Return to Collision Clouds

Season 1 Featured on: Stagg Street Arrangements

Ripped by MtH

Season 7 Featured on: SGFR Presents: RIP²

Ripped by Kirbio

...And I agree with them wholeheartedly, I do~

Yesterday on my post covering As Miku Collides (as well as on several past posts), I discussed how even individual rippers have been able to leave a remarkable impact on SiIvaGunner, purely by conveying their passions and interests through ripping. The self-expression that SiIvaGunner allows for as a neverending stream of uploads, submitted by people from all over the world, is one of its greatest qualities, and this was shown in full force back during Season 1 in particular. A lack of quality control resulted in many far rougher and less timeless rips, but it also meant that rippers of any skill level were free to contribute as much as they wanted to onto the channel. The current system's better planning and higher standard for quality is obviously far better, yet...high quality or not, there was a magic to having such a vast sea of rips made by people who just want to chime in with their little piece, never too invested in how much people would care about the results.

And you have this way of falling in and out of time as it goes by Passing silently with no goodbye

Back on Owner of a Mahjong Board, I singled out the trio of Now That's What I Call Quality! albums as some of the most unique in SiIvaGunner's entire discography. I do believe there is an amendment to be made there, however. From all the way back in Season 1 as the 22nd released album (not counting singles), Stagg Street Arrangements is an oddity of a release in many ways, with all the reasons as to why circling back to Chaze the Chat's known love for Kara's Flowers. An arrangement album of the last release the band ever made before becoming Maroon 5, its the smallest "real" album the channel has ever put out; what's more, all but one of the arrangements on it were made specifically for the release. In every sense of the word, Stagg Street Arrangements was a passion project by Chaze the Chat, a way to permanently cement Kara's Flowers as part of the channel's legacy, before its planned end was to come just weeks later. And given everything surrounding that explosive finale, be it File Select Fusion Collab, The SiIvaGunner Smurfs Collab or Epic Flintstones, its easy to see how Stagg Street Arrangements wound up buried in the mix of things, one more little thing in the vast sea of rips. It would be easy to understand how, all these years later, people would've stopped caring.

You have this way of meaning everything and nothing to me at the same time Returning my hellos with goodbyes

Alongside the prior discussed Everyday Goodbyes (SiIvaGunner Band Cover), the biggest highlight of Stagg Street Arrangements in my eyes would be the arrangement of Stagg Street Recordings' own biggest highlight - Collision Clouds, an arrangement of As Things Collide, by MtH. As one of the first members to join Chaze the Chat in running SiIvaGunner and as the current manager of the channel, it only seems fitting that MtH would end up co-carrying the torch of Kara's Flower's legacy, with Collision Clouds being a heartwrenchingly beautiful arrangement of Kara's Flower's most resonant piece. The new instrumentation, based on the sound of Kirby's Game Boy Advance outings, is an incredible fit, highlighting the feeling of a dream-like plea for help that the original As Things Collide held - an angelic set of nostalgically-compressed instruments to match a song about the dreamy meeting of angels.

Seven long years later, with the release of RIP², we would be reminded, be assured, that the SiIvaGunner team never forgets, and never stops caring. Chaze the Chat may be long gone from the team, but those who remain make sure to never let a ripper's legacy die. Seven years later, we Return to Collision Clouds.

On the album celebrating the greatest of SiIvaGunner's legacy, the arrangement album arranging the channel's own classic rips, we would finally see a return to Stagg Street Arrangements as part of the celebration. Amidst arrangements of classic mashups, of emotional peaks in storylines, and of channel-defining rips such as SING A SONG ABOUT HOPES AND DREAMS, we had Return to Collision Clouds - a tribute to an arrangement few of us remembered, in itself a tribute to a song and band even fewer knew of. The original Collision Clouds, as described above, used the GBA Kirby game sound to heighten the feelings of its original song - Return to Collision Clouds builds upon that foundation, arranging As Things Collide in the instrumentation and style of the modern Kirby games, yet still leaning into that same desired effect. The arrangement uses the sound of woodwind instruments, piano, xylophone, accordion, to create a sort of lively, yet dreamy space for the track that's oh so easy to lose oneself in. Yet it doesn't stray too far from its roots, as partway through the melody becomes played with a modern-sounding synth melody, only to be joined in a harmonious duet with the original Collision Clouds GBA-esque lead. In every sense of the word, it's an amazingly well done tribute, both bringing the original arrangement full circle whilst reminding those watching today of just how much Kara's Flowers meant to the channel's life. I've only previously covered Kirbio on here through one of my all-time favorite rips in Fighting for the Dreams ~ Space Port Collab, and its reassuring to see how his touch for emotionally resonant rips still remains all these years later.

You may at this point be wondering about that special date of today, that I mentioned in As Miku Collides. February 22nd, 02/22. See, in every album that SiIvaGunner released under Chaze the Chat's management, no matter the kind, he made a concentrated effort to include a reference to Kara's Flowers and/or Maroon 5 - always deliberately placing it as track #222 or, in albums with less than 222 tracks, as track #22. The first studio room that the band ever recorded in, the place that would end up creating the band that Chaze the Chat was so thoroughly invested in, had that same number. And even with Chaze the Chat's departure, the tradition continued, with just about every album released to date since following suit. Because even without him here, just like all the other rippers I mentioned on As Miku Collides, just like every other ripper to have ever contributed to the channel - their legacies are eternal. Its as I brought up way back in Violet Snow Memories, as Chain of Memories II Day so perfectly showed: Every ripper leaves a footprint, big or small, one that is bound to be remembered by someone out there. Be that a ripper, an artist, a viewer...or someone like me recounting it all.

Because it's thanks to Chaze the Chat love for Kara's Flowers, and the rest of the team's effort of upholding his legacy, that As Things Collide was able to reach someone like me to begin with. It's thanks to the SiIvaGunner team that so many other Kara's Flowers-like interests, the niches of the internet world, are given the same amount of love and care in their representation on the channel as any other work would. SiIvaGunner is a community in of itself, yet its through this never-ending outpouring of love that I, and likely many others, have been able to find myself in so many more warm, welcoming spaces, the spaces for all of the various little oddities that the team continue to celebrate, this team of nerds from the world over. And I cannot thank them enough for that effort.

I said, "I don't know, does the loneliness show? And if so does it ever end?"

[skylermouse]

OC Crossover pt 1 Cookie Run : Mini Kingdom

Star (me) : hey you two :D

Marco: Fuck me

Sky and Marco turn to the source of the voice, only to frown almost immediately upon visual contact with the source.

Sky: What do YOU want

Marcos feathers slowing starting puffing up, his wings flaring out to cover Star’s view Sky

Star: Rude >:(… anyway I was wondering if you two would like to go on a small journey-

Marco: when you say small do you mean that we’ll be there for several unbearable weeks until you feel like bringing us back

The pair stare at Star awaiting an answer, only for her to start smiling

Star: Correct my feathery friend… oh would you look at the time, time for you to get going

Sky: Do we get a say in this…

Star: :)…….. Absolutely not!

Star snaps her fingers, allowing a portal to be created under Marco and Sky.

Marco: oooh you stupid *falls* BIIIIIIIITCH

The portal closes returning the room to a weird silence

Star: hope they find out that I changed it up a bit for their own enjoyment

*Meanwhile in the Other Universe*

(Takes place near the beginning

Gingerbrave: They won't bother us again-

*Cue Sky and Marco falling out of a portal, with Marco landing half way into the

ground*

Marco: I hate the bitch….

Sky stands, trying to get an understanding of the surrounding

Sky: Where the Hell are we any way?

Sky: and WHY do I feel different

Marco pulls himself from the hold made from the impact he looks relieved for a few seconds before slowly changing into a horrified look

Marco: Sky… take a look at yourself please

Sky:….why….?

Marco: Sky I’m begging you in the name Christ to look at yourself please.

Sky slowing look down at one of her paw to see that it’s not longer covered in fur but in a smooth texture… frosting.

She glances back at Marco to see that he too gone through the transformation

Both: What… The…. Fu-

Gingerbrave: Um… Hello..

The two animals turn to see a group of people- wait no, cookies staring back at them

Gingerbrave: who are you two….. and why the heck did you both fall out the sky-

*Wizard jabs his elbow into the Gingerbrave’s waist silencing him*

Wizard: What Gingerbrave meant to say was… are you to okay?

Sky stands up tumbling a little bit

Sky: We’re fine… but one question… WHERE THE EVER LIVING F*CK ARE WE

The cookies back up not knowing that an animal could use such vulgar language

Gingerbrave: First off language, there are children around here

Sky and Marco: -_-

Gingerbrave: Second, You’re in Earthbread, the land where is cookies and many more live!! :D

Sky: (Earthbread…. Where have I heard that name before….)

Sky: (………. Oh wait)

Sky: Is your name.. Gingerbrave by any chance

Ginger’s eyes widen

Ginger:… how did you know that…..

Sky: Your friend said your name earlier.. Wizard Cookie am I right?

*Wizard Cookie nods*

Sky: For now all I can say I’ve heard about you before.. but where.. I won’t be telling you~

Ginger:(ok.. creepy)

Ginger: Anyway…. What your name little mouse?

Sky: (Bitch, Im about two time taller than you sitting down!)

Sky: Names Sky and the Parrot hybrid over there questioning his sanity is Marco and what are the rest of your names?

Gingerbrave: Well you’ve already met me and Wizard Cookie, I guess the only one you haven’t met is Strawberry Cookie-

Sky pushes the two boys to the side to get a better look at the hooded figure

Strawberry: H-hello

Sky pulls Strawberry Cookie to her neck fluff embracing her while wagging her tail wildly

Skye: YOU’RE SO CUUTE

Strawberry: (ok.. awkward… pls help..)

Sky looks beside Strawberry to see a shiny object that looks similar to the shape of Gingerbrave

Sky: Ooooh… HEY MARCO STOP HAVING A MENTAL BREAK DOWN AND GET YO ASS UP

Marco gets up from the ground to see the same object Sky is staring at

Marco:…. dafuq?

A small gnome looking creature waddles towards the group

Sugar Gnome: Why that’s a special cookie cutter

Ginger: Yo check me out, if it fits, I sits

*cue entire group sweat dropping*

Sky: Dude WTF-

After the whole using the Cooke cutter thing

Chili Pepper: Okay, what's going on? Who are you? Cops? Back it up, boys! Don't even think about messing with me

Sky: (Oh no, I can see this escalating terribly)

Sugar Gnome: Don’t Fight. We used the Cookie Cutter and viola! You’re here!

Chili looks over to see the two animals

Chili: who are the animals?

Strawberry: Sky and Marco… right?

Sky: Yea-

Chili: Yeah Whatever..

Marco: B*TCH!

Chili walks up to Marco, fury in her eyes

Chili: WHAT DID YOU CALL ME BIRD BRAIN

Marco: FIRST OF ALL, YOU DONT TALK TO A LITTLE GIRL THAT WAY, SECOND YOU ASKED WHO WE WERE, SHE ANSWERED, SHOW SOME GOD. DAMN. RESPECT.

Marco’s feathers puffed up, he spreads his wings and his spiraled pupil dilates

Chili backs up surprised by the animals sudden anger

Chili: This isn’t over bird brain…

Sugar Gnome 2: TROUBLE! TROUBLE!

Ginger: Don’t tell me, Cake monsters AGAIN

Sugar Gnome 2: Dutti-do! Giants are attacking the castle! Blood-red eyes! Razor-sharp teeth, yellow as the sun!

Sky: (ick, ever heard of personal hygiene)

Sugar Gnome: No doubt they are after the Castle's great treasures, mm-hm

Chili: Treasures?! Did you just say "treasures?" Why didn't you tell me that in the first place! Now yer talkin'—!

Marco: (At least we know how to get her to help)

Ginger: We need to get there quickly!

Sky: Oh I Know! You guys can ride on me and Marcos back, Im really fast so we should be there in seconds!

Sky: Fair warning though, Marco can’t fly straight and often does a lot of sky stunts….

Ginger and the gang huddle up and discuss who’s riding who

Ginger: So… which animal you guys riding

Strawberry: Well.. Sky seems to be the more safer option

Wizard: As much as I like adventure…. Im going with the mouse

Brave: Looks like me and Chili are going with the Parrot

Chili: WHAT?! I DIDNT I AGREE TO THAT

Brave: Well… you need to try a get along with him after that situation earlier

Chili: FUCK THAT! HE CALLED ME A B*TCH

Brave: Again, Language, and that sounds more like a you problem :)

Chili: BUT-

Brave: Alright let’s go! :D

Brave grabs Chili’s arm with a firm grip and drags her over to the parrot, throwing her onto his back and climbing on, meanwhile Strawberry and Wizard are climbing onto Sky’s back, cling onto her fur

Sky and Marco: Are you guys READY?!

Brave: Yep :D

Strawberry: S-Sure

Wizard: Yes

Chili: Whatever…

In a quick flash Sky speeds off leaving only a cloud of dust

Gingerbrave:….

Chili:…. on second though…. Im glad you dragged me onto the parrot Gingerbrave

Marco starts flapping his creating clouds of dust with each flap until he lifts himself off the ground

Gingerbrave: The Castles that way, by the way

Marco: Alright let’s go…

First time writing a story including ocs, I will accept any critics as long as their not harsh

[yourlokalescholar]

I bet you thought I’d forgotten about this! I still intend to upload all of the chapters to Tumblr, I just take forever to do anything. Also I renamed the story to “The Girl and the God”, cos “Hello I’m Here I’m Living in the Wall” is a TERRIBLE title and also far too long. Anyway

The Girl and the God: chapter two

Salmon was miserable.

She was currently clinging to a tree, in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night, trying to avoid a hoard of undead. She had very few memories to her name, but she was sure it didn't get much worse than this. An arrow narrowly missed her leg, and she swore as she inched further up the vines she was grasping.

"Can you fuckers STOP shooting at me for five FUCKING minutes so I can CLIMB THIS BLOODY TREE WITHOUT FALLING TO MY DEATH??" She shouted at her aggressors, having passed beyond fear and into frustration after the first few hours of being stuck in the swamp.

She'd spent hours trudging along the shoreline in hopes of finding civilisation. Or shelter. Or even like... a good tree to spend the night in. Literally anything would've been better than what she'd found, which was another damned swamp. Admittedly, Salmon had liked the swamp she'd woken up next to: it had looked interesting. She liked the colour of the wood, and the tree roots reminded her of spider legs, and she'd been curious to see what kind of animals lived there. However, liking the look of a biome was very different to being stuck inside it in the pouring rain whilst being shot at by skeletons and chased by zombies. In all fairness, she doubted that would be a pleasant experience no matter the location.

Since arriving at the swamp, Salmon had fallen out of three trees, nearly drowned in a pond, and gotten tangled in vines... far too often. And that was before the sun had set. Somehow, things had gotten worse from there.

After a lot of screaming, cussing and clumsy parkour, she'd found herself here, in a tree, surrounded by undead, thinking her day couldn't get any worse. And then it began to rain.

So, understandably, Salmon was miserable.

Mentally cursing whatever gods existed, she finally hauled herself up onto the branch her vine was hanging from. She lay on her back and groaned loudly, momentarily forgetting that she was being shot at. This brief respite was quickly interrupted when an arrow grazed her arm and brought her painfully back to her hellish reality.

Salmon groaned again, louder, and sat up reluctantly. She leaned her back against the trunk of her tree, and began to assess her injuries. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she realised that she was actually… quite injured. Like, all over her body. As well as the most recent graze on her forearm, she had several shallow claw marks over her back and shoulders from zombies, bruises all over her body from falling out of trees, tiny scratches all over her face and arms from branches, and…

THREE arrows sticking out of her left leg.

Ah.

How had she not noticed that?

Of course, now that she had noticed, it was impossible to ignore.

Her entire leg felt like it was on fire, every movement sending another flare of pain through her body. It felt like even the droplets of water falling from the leaves above were creating micro tears in the skin around the arrowheads. She reached for a shaft with shaking fingers, but the moment she touched it a wave of white-hot agony shot through her, and she couldn’t hold back a sob.

She just wanted to go to sleep.

She sucked a breath in through her teeth, steeling herself. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. The arrows weren’t in deep. If they weren’t in the way, her wounds would be healed in minutes; most of her other injuries were nearly gone now. It wouldn’t hurt for long. Forcing herself to move through her trepidation, she reached into her pocket and stuffed some stale bread into her mouth, then squeezed her eyes shut and took some more deep breaths. Then, she lined her right arm up with the arrows, close to the skin… And swiped.

***

What was left of the god remembered a little about humans.

They knew they’d been a creative species; they’d made structures the size of cities, and cities the size of countries. They knew they’d been a brave species; they’d taken on whatever horrors the more sadistic gods had thrown at them. They knew they’d been an ambitious species. It had been what killed them.

But they also remembered how emotional humans had been. No species before or since had felt as much or as deeply as they had.

All this is to say that what was left of the god would recognise the sound of laughter anywhere. Now, this meant a lot considering they couldn’t remember their own name.

But they did remember a little about humans, and they remembered that humans had killed them.

[cambriancruelty]

it's amazing y0u run this bl0g, pretending t0 be the victim, when y0u p0is0ned s0me0ne against his inn0cent m0irail and rightful culler, then st0le him away f0r y0ur 0wn.

CAMBRIAN: hello? Why the fuck are you on this account?

CAMBRIAN: Let’s take this message in order because there’s a lot of bullshit in this ask to wade through

CAMBRIAN: First of all,“pretending to be the victim”? Have you met me? I am very aware of my generalised awfulness. I make no pretence on that matter. And I don’t post about this situation at all, because you’re not important enough to be anything but a footnote, so this opening is pathetic and inaccurate.

CAMBRIAN: Now as for your next point, if you are who I think you are, it is one of my grandest regrets that I didn’t go to the effort of “poisoning” your victim against you. Maybe he would’ve gotten away sooner. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it took a bit longer, since he took a little time to realise you were a fucking monster and a creep and put a bullet between your eyes about it. Once again, you betray lack of understanding of what actually happened, and also come across as rather a whiny little bitch.

CAMBRIAN: On the subject of your supposed “innocence”, you manipulated and hurt someone I value an incredible amount, and tormented him in a way that’s left lasting psychological scarring. Furthermore, you did everything you were accused of! None of it was untrue, you just didn’t want him to resist you. Your hands are not clean, no matter how much you pretend. You were a predator and a monster and I am glad you were put down like the rabid dog you are, now stop your yapping about it and go back to rotting alone in a dream bubble for eternity. Or better yet, do all of us a favour and curl up and double-die. I’m not going to write up a proper refutation of this one. Go fuck yourself

CAMBRIAN: And finally, on the topic of stealing him, you’re a fucking idiot. I have not stolen him for myself. He is his own, a wonderful person with his own interests and life and skills, none of which you get to see. He allows me and several other people the privilege of knowing him, a thing I am grateful for to this day, but he belongs to himself, utterly and entirely. He has gotten to live past the things you’ve done, built a life for himself. And you will never get to know the person he’s become, because you were nothing but a monster who controlled him for your own sadistic whims, and now he’s gotten away from your influence and is surrounded by people who actually care about him.

CAMBRIAN: this ask was idiotic, arrogant and not even accurate. You have an eternity of your pathetic and monstrous soul withering away ahead of you, use it to write a better one maybe? Or just grow up and accept that you lost, you tried to control and manipulate someone and he (deservedly) killed you for it.

CAMBRIAN: tell me, did it hurt when you died? I hope so. I hope it was agony, I hope the shot wasn’t clean and you bled out. I hope you know the worst pain imaginable, so that when I finally get my fucking hands on you I can match it. You hurt someone I cherish, and if you so much as try to crawl your pathetic corpse back into his or any of our lives, I guarantee I’ll find for you a fate worse than you can imagine.

CAMBRIAN: In short:

GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG AND DIE IN A HOLE YOU BITCH ASS WHORE

CAMBRIAN: :) (:

[binalis]

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 & 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

As a child, I loved playing with dandelions. I made wishes before blowing their puffy seeds and watching them float away on the breeze. Like if they would carry my wishes to the heavens. As an adult, I still appreciate this little but fascinating gift of nature and I smile when I see them. Although I’ve learned what a pain they can be in the garden, I never spray them with weed killer. In fact (when I had a lawn) I don’t even dig them out of the lawn. Dandelions are not just a weed. They are a beautiful, useful, and versatile flower. Here’s how I believe that dandelion is my favorite plant.

Once upon a time, dandelions were a beloved flower and considered a normal part of a healthy lawn. Then we invented chemical herbicides. Because chemical weed killers also kill dandelions and other wildflowers that you may find in an untreated lawn, the producers of weed killers spent a lot of time marketing a new concept of a healthy lawn, that is, one with nothing but plain green grass.

Moreover, it is one of the first spring foods for bees. I also came to know that the entire dandelion plant is edible. Dandelion plants are full of nutrients.

Dandelions are also often considered to have medicinal qualities. Studies on animals show that dandelion may help normalize blood sugar levels and lower total cholesterol. It is also a well documented appetite stimulant. Consumption of this weed has even been linked to improved digestion.

Dandelions have deep roots which is what makes them so hard to remove but this also leads to many benefits for the soil. The deep roots break up densely packed soils allowing for more water and air flow, which is healthy for soil ecosystems. These roots also bring up nutrients to the surface, benefiting plants like tomatoes which have shallower roots. Even the shoots you do pull up can be useful to your garden. The leaves of the dandelions are nutrient rich and can make great compost or mulch for your lawn and garden.

But that is just the tip of ice berg. Let me explain why I like dandelions the most.

To me, dandelions remind me of the beauty, determination, and wild strength of nature. Have you ever walked down a street and noticed a small bump in the tarmac each day you walk past that bump, and it seems to get slightly bigger? You probably ignore it.

Then one day, you notice a small delicate flower has popped up. It has pushed its way through the tarmac. Finally, its bright yellow flower and gloriously green leaves reach the sun, surrounded by a desert of tarmac. I imagine it shouting out, "Hello world. I'm here!” Dandelions and nature, in general, remind me of several of the things we need to manage our wellbeing effectively. It's also helpful to remember that nature won't be rushed, and may be we don't have to rush to our destination and miss the journey in the process. Life, after all, is about the journey, not the destination.

In my example, we can see that the dandelion is nothing if determined. Despite the best effort of the tarmac, the hardcore underneath, the trampling feet above, it is determined to push through and reach the surface. So sometimes, we, too, need to be determined to keep trying and not give up.

Einstein well said

"Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better."

It has also shown resilience. It didn't give up. Through grit and determination, it kept on growing. It could have given up. It could have thought, what's the point? But it didn't. It had life, and it fought to grow for the chance to flourish and thrive. Again, this is something we have to do. At times of struggle, we must dig deep, get back up when we fall, keep putting one foot in front of the other. But as long as there is life, there is hope; And if there is hope, there is growth.

The dandelion, and nature in general, also reminds us that life is a marathon, not a sprint. When you watch things grow, you will notice you don't see much. Growth occurs through consistent small, slow steps. Nature doesn't rush, it can't be rushed, but it gets everything done.

As dandelions provide insects with food and shelter, and in turn, they pollinate its flowers. Our world, our survival and our well being depend on our connectedness with each other and nature. Being mindful of nature can help us remember this interconnectivity and how our actions impact others and vice versa. Remember the saying

"If you want to travel fast, go alone. If you're going to travel far, go together."

Returning finally to dandelions, there is one final reason I love Dandelions. No matter how hard we try to eradicate dandelions from the face of Earth, they still show up. Occasionally, we have to accept those things that cause us distress. Indeed, sometimes that's the only path that stops them from hurting us.

We can use my love of dandelions to illustrate one final point; we can see the same things in different ways. Some find dandelions a frustrating weed but I see them as inspirational flowers. All of us are different, and all of us have our own unique problems and struggles that might not be so challenging to others. Being aware of this can also help us be less judgemental when others are struggling and too ourselves. Your struggles are not invalid because others do not share them, and vice versa.

Next time you see a dandelion, don’t think of an invasive weed that must be nuked. Instead think of the gifts of nature, pretty flowers, food source, inspiration. Whatever you do, enjoy, don’t destroy!

[peoplecallmelucifer]

Nightmares

"A knife" Samuel said leaving the table silent for a moment

The silence was broken by a howling laugh of an Attra Space marine sitting next to him

"You can't be serious" they said  as they slightly composed them

"Oh I'm dead serious La" Samuel retorted

LaKarVah  still had a smile on their face but they was obviously contemplating the humans answer

As the table went quiet again a Tool named Shield-3007 spoke.

[Human Samuel James Macintosh. Your answer is illogical. please explain the reasoning]

Samuel downed his drink.

"I will but ya'll aren't gonna like it. Then again we're all soldiers so I guess you might actually understand"

His entire squad and a few neighboring tables leaned in to listen the Human explain his pick.

"EMP's, nukes, bio weapons, plasma lances are all horrible weapons and what they do to their victims is Despicable." Samuel said coldly "But knives..." He paused.

"First and foremost they are silent, completely silent."

"So are puls-laser canons" a centaur like alien from a neighboring table interjected

"True, but there is more to knives. Two things that makes them the weapon of nightmares" Sam continued, his face going dark

"First is that to use it you need to get close enough. so you have to be ready to be surrounded by all sides and at arms length, of  people who'd like nothing more but to end your existence"

This sent shivers trough spines of some of the soldiers listening in to the story

"The second is" Sam continued "you do not have the ability to distance Yourself from what you’re doing. Whether it's the look in their eyes as they go dull or the last breath they let out You're gonna see it.

And you're gonna keep seeing it every night you manage to get yourself to sleep.."

At this the silence in the bar was chilling. at least until Sam chuckled "...At least that's what my Drill Sargent told us to scare new recruits"

This caused several sighs of relieve, grumbles and even some laughter. Humans were known for stories. They thrived on stories, and they sure as hell knew how to spin a good tale when they didn't have any other way out of a debate.

The group quickly settled back in their routine of chatter. Well most of them

La glanced at Shield walking out of the bar and decided to follow.

"Catching some fresh air MetalMan" they said jokingly

[LaKarVah, hello. I'm Processing information.Noise is distracting.This is more socially acceptable than turning off my audio processing unit]

"Fair enough. But now I’m curious. I rarely see you taking this long to understand something. So what's bothering you"

[Data to scarce. Samuel's claims explanation is a second or third retelling]

"Ah. Humans got you with their stories. Pay it no mind. They have a  lot of those"

[This is a known quantity. Problem in logical deduction different. My designation is Shield. I protect my unit. I heal their wound. I take care of their health]

"Yeah you are our medic ... or mechanic. I still don’t get your dilemma"

[Since day 1 of my deployment,  Samuel's Sleeping patterns irregular. Sometimes he stays awake for several cycles]

Realization dawns on The Attra marine as they whisperer under their breath "Oh."

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Gotham City Sirens Sickfic- Part 1

Just an fyi, everything is platonic!

Y/N hugged herself tighter as she trudged down the rainy streets of Gotham City. What a terrible day to get lost, especially since most of Gotham’s most dangerous criminals had just broken out of Arkham Asylum a few days prior. To make matters worse, Y/N was pretty sure she was coming down with something. She had only come outside to try to buy medicine, but almost every pharmacy was closed due to the weather. Now, several streets away from her apartment, Y/N started to shiver and cough more violently as she looked for somewhere dry to get her bearings.

“Hello?” A voice called.

Y/N turned. She saw a silhouette of what looked like a young woman carrying… a giant mallet?

Y/N hadn’t lived in Gotham very long. As a matter of fact, this was Y/N’s first week in the city, so it came as no surprise that Y/N wouldn’t immediately recognize the madwoman who called herself Harley Quinn.

“Are you okay, doll?” the voice called again.

Y/N took a minute to process it, and although she didn’t understand why, alarm bells still went off in her head. She made a run for it.

“Hey, wait!”

Y/N didn’t get very far before her body was wracked by shivers and more coughing. Y/N collapsed on the rain-soaked street. She tried to get back up but to no avail; the sickness was taking its toll on her. Y/N looked up as the woman approaching her came into view.

“Oh, you look dreadful, Honey.” The woman said.

That was the last thing Y/N heard before her eyes slipped closed and she lost consciousness.

…

When Y/N woke up, she didn’t recognize her surroundings. She was in a small bed that wasn’t hers, and there were pictures on the walls of some of Gotham’s most dangerous criminals smiling at her. Y/N sat up in bed but immediately regretted her decision, as doing so caused her head to spin and her vision to blur.

“Oh, Doll, don’t get up just yet!” A voice cried out.

The woman from before had been standing in the doorway, and she now ran over to Y/N. She gently pushed Y/N back down on the bed.

“W-Where am I?” Y/N asked.

“Aw, look at you already trying to ask questions, that’s adorable. I promise I’ll answer ‘em but first I wanna check you over. Open up.”

Y/N didn’t want to make things worse for herself, so she reluctantly opened her mouth and felt a thermometer get shoved inside. After a few moments, the thermometer started beeping loudly. The woman took the thermometer out and sighed.

“Yep, still piping hot. You’re lucky to be coherent, Honey, most people go into delirium with a fever this high.”

Y/N couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.

“Who are you?” She blurted.

“You don’t know me?” The woman stared in wonder. “That’s a first. Most everyone around here knows me. Ah, well. You are looking at one Clown Princess of Crime: Harley Quinn. You can just call me Harley, or Doctor Harley, whatever makes you comfortable.”

Harley stood up and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table.

“Thirsty?”

Y/N sat up and took the water gratefully. She drank the entire glass in seconds, ignoring the strange taste it left in her mouth. She gave the empty glass back to Harley, who set it back on the table.

“Now is probably a good time to tell you I slipped a little something in that.” She said cheerfully.

“What!?”

“Don’t worry about it, I know what I’m doing; it’s just medicine, it’s gonna help you get better. I know because Poison Iv- I mean, a friend, made it herself. It’s probably gonna make you drowsy though, so I wouldn’t try to get up or anything.”

Y/N was already beginning to feel the effects of the drugged water. She fell back against the pillows, unable to sit up any longer.

“That’s it, Honey, you just rest, okay?” Harley said soothingly, “we’ll talk more when you’re feeling better.”

Part 2

[z]

Okay, I'm gonna expand on this because John Boskovich is severely underrated in my opinion and I just wanna talk about this.

No, I'm not an "art expert", these are just my thoughts.

This photo is from the 'Rude Awakening' series, in which Polaroid photos are framed in a white silk-screen frame. Almost all the photos here have some positive affirmation. Or if not they have a timestamp of when the photo was taken. This design to me draws a tri-focus. Partially on the image, partially on the text, and partially on the blank borders that surround it. It highlights the importance of the presentation of the photo. Before looking at this work I would tell you such a thing is unimportant. Now I think it's half the battle. The affirmations are usually presented in a way that either ties in with the photo in an uncanny manner, or seems completely removed from it; the affirmation is sarcastic or brutally honest. I know that just sounds like another person doing that thing where they say two completely opposite things for the sake of it, but in my mind, it couldn't be more true. Take for example the common themes of wealth in the series. One piece that is highlighted in my mind is the "Big Blowout Sale", which I will not show in this post as it is somewhat NSFW which is not something I want on my blog haha. Regardless, the photo depicts nude buttocks, with the accompanying text of "Money comes easily to me." This mixed with the title, indicates to me a rejection of material things. However, another piece with that same image and another, that comes with the affirmation of "I have more than enough money to meet my needs." To me, these could both be satire. But it also draws a picture of being against the ruthless materialism of the world, yet at the same time being grateful you've overcome that issue personally, being, in the words of yet another piece in the collection "Successful and Prosperous." Because it's more than just material things. Being financially stable allows the artist to pursue and create the art they love, making them successful in a way that transcends material metrics, but at the same time being aware of the shallowness of capitalism and a money-chasing lifestyle. Considering the difficulty one may have in avoiding this in the modern world, it comes across to me as a bitter admission of the state of things. Obviously, I could be misreading this entirely, but the possibility that I'm even close to the intended message fills me with a sense of wonder at the creativity of one man.

It's not all black and white either. Some of the pieces are far more ambiguous.

Take for example this piece,  'For Larry Johnson: Another Original Idea, Another Risky.' The title is to me vague, probably because I lack the context to understand it (as I said, I'm no expert on art, so I don't know Larry Johnson and how he fits into all of this.) But to me, the simple message, with the photo of the sky, brings a level of sincerity. But the simple nature of this piece leaves room for the argument that it is in fact, a reflection on how the artist could be more honest, having this piece contain a lie in the form of that text could circle the whole thing back and warp the meaning completely. I'm reading far into it, but the point is still there. The simple things are what makes John Boskovich such an inspiring creative.

I know I normally don't post anything like this, so for anyone who has read my blog before, this is probably going to be a one-off/very rare type of post from me, and in the case that anyone new is reading this, uh, hello!

might fuck around and become a John Boskovich fan blog his art is so hard

[bokettochild]

Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.

[tennessoui]

kuwsk 🥺👉👈 love you 🫰🏽

hello hello!!! here is 835 words of KUWSK that i wrote in the last 30 minutes. no spoilers for the kenobi show, as KUWSK could not be further separated from the kenobi show, but if you've seen the kenobi show then you'll definitely be able to see what i was imagining while writing this lol.

Early June, half a year (six months, three weeks and one day, if you ask Anakin) after they get together

“Obi,” Leia says, reaching up to tug at his pants leg. Obi-Wan hums to show that he’s listening, even if he really isn’t. He’s trying to decide which of these blown glass pieces will look better in their kitchen window. One depicts a soft sunrise, pink and yellow and green. The other is a beach landscape, darker blues and swaths of orange.

Objectively, the sunrise would be much prettier, and since the kitchen is west-facing, it would throw a beautiful blanket of light over the countertops while (usually) Anakin prepared dinner, which the man would surely be delighted by.

Subjectively, of course, Obi-Wan has spent the last two months trying to subtly hint to Anakin that he would like to go to the beach this summer, and frankly, they’re running out of time. Anakin sometimes needs things laid out for him to understand. After all, he’d needed Obi-Wan to accidentally kiss him before they started dating, even if Obi-Wan had spent several months before that trying to show him how much he loved him.

Whenever Obi-Wan brings this up, Anakin likes making noises like he’s a dying cat before he leaves the room.

But, unfortunately, he does love this man, and he thinks the play of the pink lighting will look absolutely heavenly on Anakin’s cheekbones. And if he has the sudden urge to kiss him, then he can just do it. Amazing. It’s been half a year since they got together, and it still manages to blow Obi-Wan away every time he remembers Anakin is willingly allowing him to call him his for now.

Perhaps he should just tell Anakin about the desire for a beach trip.

“Obi,” Leia says, more insistently, tugging harder on his pants, and Obi-Wan tears his gaze away from the glass to check on her.

“Yes, Leia love?” he asks, when their eyes make contact. 

“I haven’t seen daddy in ages,” she reports, stepping closer to him.

“Your daddy’s over by the tent with all the maps last time I checked,” he tells her, running a quick hand over the top of her head. Anakin and Luke had been fascinated with the selection of maps and compasses and star charts, stopping in the middle of the pathway and cutting through another row to get a closer look, as if Obi-Wan did not make and share the perfect, most efficient plan for walking through this crafts fair without missing a single tent.

That had been roughly fifteen minutes ago probably. Obi-Wan, who’d sort of hated looking at Anakin and the kids surrounded by stuff that could be used to make leaving him easier, had wandered away from the tent to the one adjacent to it, the glassblowers. Leia, who has been going through a phase where she’d choose her Obi for anything over anyone else in the entire world, had followed him.

“He’s not anymore,” Leia says. “He left.”

Obi-Wan blinks and carefully puts the glass back onto the table. The craftsman looks disappointed, but it’s not like Obi-Wan isn’t going to buy one of the pieces he’s just spent ten minutes putting his fingerprints all over. He cranes his head out the tent to look across the way into the map tent.

No Anakin.

Alright. That’s fine. That’s great. He can’t see Luke either, which must mean that Luke is with Anakin, which is the best place for him to be. They probably went to the bathroom. Or to the foodstall selling kettlecorn that Luke had been dying to try. Or back to the car so they could drop off all the maps they’d bought before Obi-Wan could see.

“Did they…leave?” Leia asks, little hand tightening its grip on his pants.

Obi-Wan turns to look at her, and then over to the craftsman. The glass can wait until after they’ve located Anakin. And he will get the beach one, he’s just decided. He leans down so that Leia can easily hop into his arms. He makes sure that she’s secure the way she likes to be—both arms wrapped tightly around his neck and one leg dangling down—before he moves out of the tent.

“Don’t be silly, darling,” he tells her. “They’d never leave you. Let’s go find your brother and your daddy.”

“Maybe the map people can help us,” Leia suggests seriously with wide eyes.

Even though Obi-Wan can feel the beginnings of real anxiety stirring in his chest—his phone’s been dead for an hour now because Anakin had rolled over its charger in his sleep and unplugged it—he has to bite back a chuckle at this. “Do you suppose they have a map they can sell us to find your daddy?” he asks, trying to mimic her serious tone.

“No, Obi,” Leia says. She sounds like she’d be rolling her eyes if she were a few years older. “They might be able to tell us where they went.”