#having two death anniversaries will make things complicated

[kanoshmano]

[messenger-of-babel]

Voicemails

Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!

General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.

Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~

RiRi xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.

"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."

Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.

He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.

If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.

You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."

You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.

So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.

You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.

You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.

You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.

Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.

So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.

"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"

He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.

"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."

He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.

His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.

"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.

"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.

You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.

You have (1) new voicemails.

[moonstruckme]

Hiya Mae!! How are you?? It’s been a little bit but I was hoping I could request a poly!marauders fic (+plus Lily if you’re comfortable with doing that if not it’s fine). This week is the 6th anniversary of my brothers passing and this year is a bit harder as I’m turning 18. Having such a milestone coming up and him not being here is sorta making me sick. I was wondering if maybe you could base the fic off of that? Or something to do with grief and them helping reader out. I’ve found great comfort in the abundance of love you portray with their relationship and I could do with a lil of it.

If not it’s totally fine don’t feel obligated. Hope you have a good week!!

Hi sweetheart, sorry I couldn't get this to you during the week you requested it. I was also dealing with a bit of grief at the time and it felt too raw to try for a while. I hope you're doing well and that you really enjoy being 18, even if those feelings are complicated by your loss <33

cw: mentions of death, grief

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 622 words

The sky is turning from deep blue to black outside when Sirus notices you’ve slipped into a melancholy. 

The only hint of it is in your tone. You’ve been quipping about the film you’re all watching like you always do, bouncing off his and James’ comments and Remus’ amused grunts, but there’s a falsity to the cheer in your voice. This is something you and James have in common; when Sirius or Remus are upset it permeates the area around them like a thick fog, but the two of you have a way of keeping it contained within yourselves, putting on counterfeit smiles. Sirius often wonders if it doesn’t hurt you more. 

He leans away from where he’s been resting his head on Remus’ pectoral, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” he asks quietly. 

You shrug. Swallow. “Just thinking about them,” you murmur in reply. 

Sirius suspects this isn’t the full story, but he, too, knows the necessity of papering over certain pains. He doesn’t pry. 

Before the war—before Regulus—Sirius used to think that grief was the pain that came from the love you had for the lost person being ripped away from you. But even months after his brother’s death, all the love is still there. It’s amplified, if anything, every ounce of it demanding attention now that he can no longer take it for granted even a little bit. 

What went was the ritual of it all. The peculiar brand of happiness he’d felt around Reg, never easy but still there, buried beneath layers of troubled history and shared broodiness. The inside jokes they’d barely realized they had, things no one who wasn’t raised in their house would see the humor in. The surety that if they fought, they’d get a chance to make up. Sirius will never have those things with his brother again. In memories, maybe, but now they’ll always be tinged with the love so big it hurts. 

He wishes desperately he could keep you from hurting like that. 

He shuffles closer, awkwardly wrapping his other arm around you until he’s nearly covering your body with his. It’s like he thinks he can shield you, like he can protect you from grief after he’d failed to protect you from loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head, turning so it’s jammed in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your face feels hot. “I don’t know what to do,” you choke out. 

Sirius squeezes you tighter. He gets it, but he doesn’t. He knows how it feels to grieve, but not how to grieve your person in your way. It’s an ache he can only approximate. 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds pained, and he gets up from Remus’ other side, rounding the couch to climb onto the armrest beside you. He rubs your back with one hand, the other coming to rest on Sirius shoulder, a comfort in case he needs it. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, my love.” 

Sirius feels a hot tear slip down his neck into his shirt, and James winces as your shoulders hitch under his touch. Remus makes a soft pitying sound. 

“You’re alright.” He latches onto the last unclaimed part of you, rough hand soothing up your calf. “You’re okay.” 

“Sorry,” you manage, and Sirius squishes you punishingly in his arms, pressing a staunch kiss to the side of your head. 

“Don’t be silly,” he tells you. James makes a half-choked sound of agreement. “No sorries, okay?” 

You nod, the bump of your nose moving against Sirius’ neck. He gives you another kiss to show his approval. 

“You’re alright, darling,” Remus says again. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got you.” 

[thethiefandtheairbender]

a few disclaimers before i get into this post:

I have not watched anything past the halfway point of JWCC S4, but I do have a general gist of the plot

I've watched the final s2 scene and a few of the flashback scenes / other scenes from JWCT and S4/S5 of JWCC

I was never a fan of Kenji/Brooklynn, and always preferred Brooklynn/Darius

So I may get things wrong / have missed other lines or opposing sentiments in canon — please feel free to correct me in the comments/replies!

That said, thinking about what I do know, story framing, and the themes it seems like they're setting up... I think it's very likely Darius/Brooklynn will be endgame, and here's why.

1) Having Darius be in love with her at all

This is the biggest one I think, but not perhaps for the reason you may think. For starters, this is noteworthy purely because it's not really 'necessary'. There were a lot of other paths to get to the same place, re: Darius not going to see Brooklynn when he said he would and subsequently feeling guilty about her death. He could've even just been busy (maybe something with the anniversary of his father's death) or even more reserved and upset over Brooklynn and Kenji being broken up, perhaps on Kenji's behalf.

Instead, they chose to have a main character state that he's in love with another main character, and that it's accordingly complicated/messy. However, in the current framing, Darius and Kenji's relationship had more of a fallout over Darius not being there than Darius being in love with Brooklynn being an issue. It's heavily impacted him as a character, but for the other two people in the 'triangle', less so (though we see more of Brooklynn's side of things in S2 of JWCT).

We also see from JWCT that Brooklynn does not, as Darius tells it, make it clear that she doesn't have feelings for him. She doesn't say that she doesn't like him, she doesn't even say no, nor does she let him have an easy out from his accidental confession. Instead she seeks to clarify and only fumbles when Darius asks if she feels the same for him, which is understandable given she's semi-recently (3-6 months?) gotten out of a long-term relationship with their mutual best friend.

B: Did you just say 'love'? D: Oh that? No, I mean, I love all my friends the same way. Well, not the same way, but e-equally. The same amount of love. Even if... the love is different. B: And is the love different with me? D: Maybe. But our friendship is too important to me, and Kenji's my best friend, so let's just forget about it. Unless... B: Darius, I just don't think... I'm not really ready for—

Which makes sense. In Brooklynn's head, she's had one relationship fail because of her drive/work, and getting into another one wouldn't be smart with that in mind. And again, she's left a 6 year long relationship, moving on is going to take time even just in terms of figuring how to be single as a person in their early 20s.

However, we know that Brook and Kenji had been broken up long enough, and she'd been staying with Darius long enough, for him to develop feelings.

D: But when she came to stay with me, things started to change.

And we also see more than once that Kenji thinks it's plausible that Brooklynn could've loved Darius in return:

K: So my best friend fell in love with my ex-girlfriend. Did she love you back?

There's also the way this is tethered directly to Darius' character arc. If his 'origin point' in JWCT is that he feels like he failed Brooklynn and blames himself for her death, routinely framed under the language of 'needing,' then that sets up a character arc where he comes through for her (even though he's let go of his self-blame about her death "I couldn't have changed what happened" in the s1 finale).

'Being there,' or rather not there, is also a crucial aspect of what led to Kenji and Brooklynn breaking up.

K: I can't be with you anymore if you're not going to be with me.

(Which, Kenji trying to show Brooklynn something beautiful with the caveat "it doesn't last long," and then they break up? Yeah.) And we see that Darius is committed to being there simply because he's called her, sometimes multiple times a day, for months.

Even down to it being ultimately his idea to get on the ship, and everyone else following his lead (Kenji most reluctantly of all), when getting on the ship and going in deeper is identified as

So Darius being there for Brooklynn is something that has to happen in the future, which does not seem to be a part of Kenji's arc, and also works in tandem with Brooklynn needing to let people in / help her (which Darius can also relate to, as they are both fiercely independent and "keep trying to do everything alone"). He's become the person she Needs, narratively, and that's a very hard thing to undo and one that lends itself well to the idea of a future romance.

2) Darius vs Kenji as partners

This is not to say that Brooklynn is a perfect partner, even before things got bad.

She decidedly wasn't for Kenji at least in in the final stages of their romantic relationship, but merely that we routinely see her put her faith in and seek out things from Darius that she never seeks out from Kenji or the rest of the group in the same matter, and they know it. (The fact that Darius' boss Ronnie is also the one who tends to her, and the only person at the point in-universe, to think there's something between the two, also stands out to me.)

For example, the biggest actual issue with Brooklynn being so distracted is that for months (years?) she refused to tell Kenji anything about what she was doing with Dark Jurassic:

For a multitude of her own personal reasons, she didn't trust him with it. That doesn't mean Darius and Kenji are never in the same boat — she faked her death and left both of them, alongside everyone else in the group, in the dark — but that Brooklynn was pretty clearly going to bring Darius into the fold in ways she was never going to do so with Kenji, previously. It's not as though Brooklynn's obsession with the possible smuggling was the healthiest thing in the world, either, but she is 1) an investigative reporter, and 2) that drive to Know things is what sent her to Camp Cretaceous in the first place. If she'd approached things as a team (like she was trying to do with Darius, albeit very belatedly and likely because it felt like she didn't have other options), it wouldn't have been so unhealthy. It was that she was so routinely distracted without really sharing how and why, and therefore not letting anyone help pace her or help her at all, that was the problem.

In a lot of ways then, it's not so much "who's the better partner for her between Darius and Kenji" (though there is some of that), as much as it is "Which one does Brooklynn treat like a partner," and uh... I'd say Darius; her coming and crashing at his place semi long term immediately after her breakup only lends to this, tbh.

Speaking of which, next to the framing of it within Darius' plotline, this is the 2nd most 'damning' piece of evidence to me that they're, at the very least, not going back to Brooklynn/Kenji:

Identity theme

Initially pinged by the S2 trailer's big line of "I'm not the same Brooklynn you knew," it was clear that they were going to explore Brooklynn going on a tumultuous series of changes (possibly reflected by a change in hairstyle) and the idea that she no longer fits / belongs with her old life and her old friends.

This idea of "I'm not who I was / you're not who I thought so we can't be together" is not a new idea in terms of Brooklynn and Kenji falling apart, as we see it in S5 quite prominently:

They, of course, come back from that, as Kenji chooses Darius / the group over his father, and swears to never abandon them again. Nor does he abandon Brooklynn in breaking up with her, even if it leads to a much larger distance between them, with neither being physically or emotionally present with one another. It can be easy to chalk up Brooklynn's sentiment here, then, as being similar:

They can leave without her, because the Brooklynn (the 'you') is one she thinks no longer exists. As Brooklynn immediately follows up with, "I have a job to finish," showing that her determination and willingness to do anything to expose the smuggling ring is the 'one thing' that has stayed intact from Before everything went down (pre-breakup and fallout, etc). She also still gives the team Bumpy's egg, showing that she won't actually fully forsake them and that she does still care.

And, in some ways, I think Brooklynn is sort of right. The person they all deeply new is not who she is; she has become someone new because of her experiences, her loneliness, and trauma. She can't go back to being the old Brooklynn who hadn't lost an arm or cut her hair or hadn't faked her death.

This is pretty similar to what Darius worries in S5, after all:

B: Trust me, Kenji is the one who lost his way, not you. D: What if I'm changing? All the "life or death" situations, the choices between this bad thing or that even worse thing, it's turning me into someone I don't know. Someone I might not like. B: You know why we all look to you? Because your light burns bright, Darius Bowman. No amount of terrible choices can put it out. And I'll follow you anywhere.

So at Darius' biggest moment of doubt, Brooklynn affirms that she knows and sees the real him underneath the terrible choices he's made or their even worse circumstances, and that she sees him as the hero he is, and one that she'll follow. We also know throughout both shows that Darius thinks highly of Brooklynn ("Darius thinks the world of you!"); this doesn't mean idolization or idealization for either of them, but that what might be flaws for other people is not for each other. The scene where they discuss what happened with the breakup is not Brooklynn being entirely fair to Kenji, nor is Darius' tale of what happened ("She was really sorry, for not paying attention, for not appreciating all of this") since it was never discussed in that way. Instead, Brooklyn states that Kenji:

Brooklynn will possibly have an arc where she puts her friends above her mission, much like Kenji had to put his friends above his father. The push and pull of whether friends or dinosaurs' safety is worth more has been a frequent issue, with S3 and S5 notably making it clear that Brooklynn and Darius will both put dinosaurs first, and Kenji won't. This continued into JWCT for Brooklynn as well. I don't think her solution is to not be as obsessive but to allow others in on helping her. She's not being entirely fair to Kenji in her assessment of why they broke up, but the fact she tethers it to identity, something she is wrestling with all the more in S2...

If you feel on a fundamental level that your partner wants you to be someone other than who you are, it is extremely hard to come back from that. The fact that Brooklynn doesn't feel ready to face her friends because of how changed she is, and facing their potential reactions, reflects this uncertainty that she might be someone they don't recognize or no longer love. (Cue literally looking at her own changed reflection and citing what she had said to Darius: "I'm not really ready for...")

This uncertainty has made Brooklynn into someone who runs. She runs away from her friends, she runs away from her feelings, because she's not ready for potentially drastic changes. Therefore in order to grow, she has to trust Darius to be there for her again, he has to make a different choice... they're not the same as they were, maybe, but that doesn't mean they're totally different, or that she's a Brooklynn that he no longer loves.

The way she says "I'm not the same Brooklynn you knew" is also framed as being to the group, yes, but with a specific emphasis on Darius. I'm not the Brooklynn you think is so dedicated and wonderful, tackled onto I'm not the Brooklynn you'd do anything for, because you didn't.

They both have to meet in the middle in order to grow characters; Darius has to affirm that his devotion and love/loyalty for her is unchanged, and Brooklynn has to accept that she can still be a Brooklynn he's in love with, someone who's dedicated and wonderful and accepts his help.

Everyone over and over has reiterated that she needed him. It's not surprising, therefore, if the series decides to go with a romance, and say that she still does.

[ladylilithprime]

Day 4: Birthday

SAM WINCHESTER WAS just about to turn twenty-four when he was abducted by a Prince of Hell and thrown into a death tournament which he did not survive because he refused to kill another psychic human kid like him. He was just turned twenty-five the day his brother's deal to bring him back from the dead came due and Dean was dragged to Hell by the hellhounds. His twenty-sixth birthday was the last thing on his mind the day he went to kill Lilith to stop the Apocalypse only to learn too late that her death was the Final Seal to break and ensure that Lucifer walked free. And he was only just twenty-seven when his love for Dean helped him wrench control of his body back from a Fallen Archangel and drop them both into the Cage to be sealed away again, Michael and Adam dragged along for the ride when the eldest Archangel tried to stop him.

Sam's reckoning of his birthday got a lot more fuzzy after that point, what with his soul trapped down in the Cage while his body wandered around for a year and a half without him. Dean had once confessed to a similar disorientation regarding his own age, particularly the question of whether or not to count the four months spent dead verses the forty years his soul spent in Hell. He hadn't felt much like celebrating what should have been his thirtieth birthday in the middle of the Apocalypse, and neither of them had paid much attention to birthdays in the years since then.

So it was a bit of a jolt when Dean came up to Sam and clapped him on the shoulder, saying, "Well, Sammy, the big three-oh! What'cha wanna do for it?"

"I don't," Sam said after a moment of floundering as he scrambled to identify what his brother was even talking about. "We didn't celebrate your thirtieth, so why bother with mine?"

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean almost whines, looking supremely uncomfortable. "I wasn't in a good place that time, you know that."

"Well I haven't been in a good place on my birthday for over five years now," Sam pointed out, just barely restraining the urge to snap. He saw the moment Dean, thinking back, actually remembered what had been happening on or around Sam's birthdays for the last several years. "Yeah. There's a lot of anniversaries sharing the date that I don't feel like celebrating."

Dean had backed off after that, for which Sam was grateful. He didn't think he could have actually admitted to Dean's face that one of the reasons he didn't feel like celebrating was because he couldn't see a point in celebrating the birth of Lucifer's Vessel, Azazel's favorite, the demon-blooded abomination he had once tried to convince his young parents not to even conceive.

HE SHOULD HAVE known that wouldn't be the end of it.

"Okay, so the actual day has some bad memories attached that make it awkward for you to celebrate on, I get that," Dean said when he ambushed Sam in the library of the Bunker, startling Sam and causing Castiel to look up curiously. "So what if we pick a date, like, two weeks after that without any of those negative associations and make that your new birthday to celebrate?"

"Dean," Sam groaned in protest, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I really don't care enough to celebrate at all, regardless of the date!"

"Are birthdays something important in your culture to celebrate?" Castiel asked, frowning in confusion when Dean said "yes" at the same time that Sam said "no".

"It's complicated, Cas," Sam sighed, ever the more patient one with explaining human things to their angel friend. "Birthdays and birthday parties mostly tend to be focused on young children or the elderly, marking another year surviving to reach adulthood or into advanced age. Many people also use it as an excuse to solicit gifts from others, or even just an excuse to have cake and ice cream."

"Wow, cynical much?" Dean grumbled, holding up his hands when Sam glared at him. "But see, that's kinda my point. I know we didn't celebrate my thirtieth, but it's not like hunters tend to live very long once they start hunting!"

"Hunters also tend to be less inclined to celebrate their birthdays with more than a shot or six at a bar," Sam pointed out with a roll of his eyes. "Not my idea of a good time."

"Would you prefer cake and ice cream?" Castiel asked with a curious tilt of his head.

"I'd prefer not to even bother," Sam muttered. When Castiel continued to look at him expectantly, he sighed and said, "Look, whether by accident or design on the part of any number of beings, my birthday just... really isn't a good day, and the surrounding days aren't much better. Too many 'end of the world' situations cropping up on or around it, and even when we were kids about the only person who bothered marking it was Dean. I don't know why he's so eager to celebrate this year, especially after practically snapping at me to ignore his own, but I'd just as soon not."

"I see," Castiel said in a measured tone that immediately put Sam on edge. Before he could say anything or even pray for Castiel to stop, the angel said evenly, "You do not believe that your existence is worth celebrating."

Sam got up from the table, ignoring Castiel's penetrating gaze and Dean's stricken one, and left the library.

IT WAS CASTIEL who found him hiding in his room later. The angel who was most used to bypassing thresholds to fly directly into whichever room the person he sought might inhabit showed a marked restraint and consideration for personal privacy and boundaries by knocking lightly on the door and waiting for Sam's mumbled "come in" before nudging it open enough to enter. "Hey, Cas."

"Sam," Castiel returned, coming to a stop just inside the door, as if unsure of how far he should enter the room. "I apologize if I misspoke earlier."

"You didn't," Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I mean, I kinda wish you hadn't said it in front of Dean, but it is what it is and it's not like you were wrong."

"Much like Dean, you do not wish to burden your brother with the pain you carry inside yourself," Castiel murmured. "Sam... are you so resistent to celebrating your birth and continued existence because Dean has refused to celebrate his own?"

"That's... part of it," Sam acknowledged. He didn't really want to get into all the reasons he felt that celebrating his birthday was a worthless and frankly inappropriate endeavor, not with Castiel and not when he knew the number of birthdays he even had left to him once the Trials were complete would be numbered zero. That was definitely a conversation he wasn't ready to have, though, so he refocused. "I mean, celebrating my birthday while ignoring his? That's like some weird double standard of favoritism, and I don't want to encourage that crap."

"I see," Castiel hummed thoughtfully. "Sam? What is the significance to turning thirty years old?"

"Not much," Sam answered with a half-shrug. "It's a decade marker, a big round number that makes it slightly more significant to reach than just counting one year after another. Thirty, forty, fifty... it's more of a minor milestone than anything else, at least until around sixty-five or so."

"Then perhaps Dean would accept a compromise," Castiel suggested. "Dean will be turning forty in five years and eight months. If he will agree to allow you to celebrate that day, perhape you might agree to allow him to celebrate your fortieth birthday when it comes to pass?"

It was so like Castiel to try and find a compromise for them like this, and Sam didn't have the heart to admit to the angel why he knew it wouldn't happen.

"Sure, Cas," he said instead. "If Dean'll let me make a big fuss for him on his fortieth birthday, I'll let him celebrate however he wants for mine."

"May I inform Dean of the suggestion and your agreement?" Castiel asked, and left Sam's room when Sam nodded, presumably to go find Dean. Oh, well. Hopefully Castiel wouldn't be too disappointed when Sam didn't make it to summer.

THE GRANITE STONE bore the name "Dean Campbell" and the inscription "There'll be peace when you are done," along with Dean Winchester's birth year and only the most recent date of death. It had been very tempting to put down every single date that Dean had died in a column marching down the stone, but that would have raised too many eyebrows in the public cemetery. As it was, the plot was small and held a ceramic urn with the salted ashes left behind after the hunter's funeral Dean had been given. The other side of the stone remained blank, a stark testament to the fact that the space beside Dean remained unoccupied by a matching urn and with no sure plan of when it would be filled.

Sam slowly let out the breath in his lungs and crouched down before the headstone, absently clearing away a few weeds that were trying to grow up over the base. He didn't speak; there was nothing left to say that hadn't been said in a barn surrounded by beheaded bodies. No point, either, since he knew there was no one listening... no one he wanted to hear him.

With a hand that only shook a little, Sam set an empty shot glass in front of the engraved words and filled it with cheap whiskey from an old metal flask. A matching shot glass was lifted and filled, and then Sam set aside the flask and clinked his shot glass against the one waiting.

Happy birthday to me, he thought with a sad, wistful little smile. He picked up the other shot glass and poured it out over the grass where he knew the urn was buried as he downed his own shot, closing his eyes against the burn that was more from tears than alcohol.

"Sam," a soft voice called from behind him. Sam stiffened and twisted around, wondering who the hell would approach him in a cemetery and say his name like that--

His breath caught.

The vessel was different. Whether that was because the body of Jimmy Novak had been taken directly from Earth by the Empty or some other reason, it was not that familiar face and frame standing before him. Not even that stupid tan overcoat remained after that. The dark hair was similar, as were the blue eyes, but everything else was different. Softer and thinner and more like that one vessel he remebered being described from a trip back in time. And yet Sam couldn't help but recognize Castiel in the woman standing there, from the strong posture and curiously tilted head to the faint shadow of wings hovering behind her shoulders.

"Dean wishes for me to apologize for him that he cannot be here to celebrate with you," the angel said softly, reaching out a hand and helping Sam to his feet when he took it automatically. "He hopes that I will make an acceptable substitute and birthday gift." A pause, and then, awkwardly, Castiel added, "I was given a bow to put in my hair if you wish."

Sam snorted, helplessly, and then with the dam broken he dissolved into helpless laughter and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. Not the brother who had promised to celebrate with him, but the angel who had made that promise happen. Substitute, no, but gift? He'd take it.

And he swore he would keep this gift for as long as he could.

[schismusic]

Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile (and me) at 25

It turns out it's very hard for me to talk about Nine Inch Nails on this blog. Not only because it's a band whose catalogue I explored in a very, very weird manner (essentially anything after 2005, barring Hesitation Marks, is terra ignota to me, a guy who fucking shelled out fifty euros as a fourteen-year-old to go see Trent Reznor perform live as his first ever paid gig) but also because what I do know about them has indelibly altered how I function, not just as a musician but as a person as well. Issue is: The Downward Spiral turned thirty last March. Your usual suspects and I ended up giving it another whirl. I hadn't heard it in full in, at that point, a good five years if not more – my memories of it were confused at best. Of course, hearing the whole thing after so long reminded me of the absolute paradigm shift the record was for me (and, doubtless, for many others as well) which led to me finally biting the bullet.

There is another Nine Inch Nails record hitting a special anniversary this year. It perennially exists in the shadow of the other two "classic" NIN records, mostly due to its perceived length, width of scope, breadth of intent, intensity. I'm not a Nine Inch Nails historian, despite the profound interest the band has always sparked within me. I will not pretend to have any special insight to offer within the recording process, the songwriting, the psychology behind any NIN release at all – and especially not a release as personal, as layered, as complicated, and ultimately as definitive as this one. Anyone with ears will however have to agree with this: sure, it might not have singles as iconic, it might not be as concise, it might not capture the zeitgeist as well as its predecessors, but The Fragile hit its twenty-fifth anniversary with what we can only assume to have been the same grace as works like Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, Homer's Odyssey, Nintendo R&D1's Super Metroid. It's not even a contest. Pretty Hate Machine, barring a couple of incredible songs that would be absolute standouts in any other discography, is mostly just cute and quite unfocused in a number of crucial ways that make it breathe stilted compared to what's to come. Broken and The Downward Spiral still hit like a truck with very little rough spots – they remain lean, efficient pieces of slaughter machinery – but, as acutely noted by recurring blog guest Francesco Farabegoli, their reliance on heavy guitars seems to be more a byproduct of historical coincidence than that of genuine affection, on Reznor's part, to that specific brand of aggression. As such, it's easier to see them retrospectively as double-bound to phenomena like the Seattle sound's overnight success, or the surprisingly big following garnered by genres like death metal and projects like Ministry. None of this applies to The Fragile. Every single sound design decision in The Fragile stands as well alone as it does within the context of the whole NIN discography up to that point – including the Quake soundtrack, which (if not for its inherent ties to an external vision, not directly pertaining to anyone in the band) might actually be its closest peer in a number of ways.

Following up on the more abstract moments of Quake, for starters, The Fragile by and large foregoes the grid-like structure that even The Downward Spiral still abode to. As a result, most of the album's songs retain a surprising "live" feel to them; however, it has to be noted that the sounds themselves are imprecise, artisanal, acoustically coherent to their own reality, believable within the context of a hypothetical recording space: somewhat damaged, in most scenarios. The irony of saying this about a record whose singles include, among other things, humongous-sounding digitally distorted walls of electric guitars and actual breakbeats does not escape me, of course; but tracks like The Great Below (one of the album's thematic centerpieces) are ultimately so enhanced by the unnaturally warbled synth strings, the alien-sounding acoustic guitars or whatever that fucking pluck even is, the single-tracked lead vocals that it's actually impossible to unhear it, once you've heard it. In other words, The Fragile's ultimate superiority lies within its decision to sound – plain and simple – like it is dying.

What most popular rock and rock-adjacent acts of the 1990s made finally clear is the inextricable connection between grief and anger, mourning and fury. On average, the more personal the record, the clearer the connection between the two. In Utero, Dirt, the more politically charged branches of emo, the bands that most openly associated themselves with the nu metal image all end up converging onto an angst-filled paradox of vehement depression, or abulic bloodlust, if you'd rather. This is also the case with The Downward Spiral – a record that conveniently expresses its sad moments in the form of exactly that: sad moments (A Warm Place and Hurt, to name names). I am also conveniently leaving aside the more overtly sexual side of all the records and movements mentioned – but ultimately, bloodlust and appetite are not just metaphors of destruction, if you catch my drift. All of this somehow ends up actually coalescing into virtually any given second of The Fragile's hour-and-a-half runtime. The irony is that this exact coincidence of sounds and feelings looks a lot like your average sixty-year-old who takes up the habit of looking at obituaries posted on the streets and put in local newspaper – an exquisitely Abruzzese habit, from which I am not exempt.

Pointedly enough, a couple of tracks on the record openly tie into the then-recent demise of Trent Reznor's grandmother Clara, the woman who encouraged him to actually pursue a serious career in music. It gets particularly grim when you realize the instrumental I've just linked above this paragraph – candidly titled I'm Looking Forward to Joining You, Finally – has one single thing written under its title in the CD's booklet: the chilling epigraph "for Clara". I spent a lot of time in a cemetery on November 2nd, 2024, as my family and I waited for the Day of the Dead mass to start. Everyone in town had reunited in the graveyard, with the hilarious result that the place in question was more populated – and noisier, regrettably – than the actual town itself. A literal necropolis, then: a city of the dead, as in quite literally built with them: the little family mausoleums and the big structures comprising multiple assorted burial recesses, if you squint, look like condominiums, late nineteenth-century roofed avenues, suburban villas. Then, those who populate these areas, of course very much alive, speak of things pertaining mostly to people who are alive – and boil with the self-destructive rage pertaining to people who are still alive (self-destuctive, that is, only insofar as other people they know no longer are alive).

I was born on July 11th, 1999; as such, I am about two months older than The Fragile. The fact that this particular record would turn twenty-five the same year as me imposed a redde rationem of some kind: finally face this behemoth, advertised to be more depressing, more horrifying, dirtier and more suffocating than any other NIN record was. And so I did. Mere days after the record's anniversary, my girlfriend would tell me she wasn't feeling the spark anymore. As usual, she'd called it right – neither was I, as hard to admit as it was. Grandpa stays buried, much to everyone's chagrin, and I am nowhere closer to making my own Russian Ark than I was when I posted my last piece on here. I fumbled a cute-looking girl a week ago and while on the one hand I knew this was gonna happen and I was going to take it in stride, on the other hand this very much did not happen, which led me to finally listen to Justin Broadrick's Jesu (more on this in another post: it's probably gonna be a fun time, unlike this one). A couple of other things happened – a British girl hit on me after my band played a local underground music club, and then forgot to actually follow suit with her actual plans, luckily for me seeing as she looked to be quite drunk already – but the point still stands: I am the one looking at obituaries, blindly reading on, recognizing last names with a grimace, refusing to engage with my own fallibility.

So twenty-five years on, we have to face the music. Reznor has, so far, never made anything as intense and personal and calculated and brutal and perfect in the etymological sense of the word as The Fragile. Doing so would, in all likelihood, kill him. With Teeth is a record that admits a form of defeat: I'll take a quiet life, I'll take a rock quartet with synths, I don't fucking care about perfection any longer. Hesitation Marks deals in different forms of anxiety, more befitting for a man (at the time) nearing fifty, with a wife and children and an Academy Award or two sitting on his shelf somewhere. Both are mostly cute – I will go so far as to admit I have an actual soft spot for Hesitation Marks, making it the only NIN record outside of the classics that I willingly go out of my way to listen to in full – and ultimately inconsequential. I guess I can certainly aspire to be as inconsequential and cute as these records are, knowing there will forever be a record like The Fragile somewhere behind my back, hiding in the shadows.

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

Zagreus

Synopsis

Zagreus sits inside your head

Zagreus lives among the dead

Zagreus sees you in your bed

And eats you when you're sleeping.

Propaganda

ok so, its the 40th annivercery!! its not offical as the show was off the air at the time, but still!!!! every single companion and doctor actor Big Finish managed to get they got!! but do they play their parts? ...actually not really! here we have the end of an arc that two seasons coming, Charley and 8 has been through a lot, and at this point their story comes to a starteling and rather horrid conclusion! (OR IS IT?) Charley, who has been rescued from death by the eight doctor, rescuing her when he was not supposed to, has been through a lot, and even as that got solved last episode, by saving her from becoming a portal of death to galifray (a long and better constracted story XD), the doctor and the tardis has sufferd a huge explosen of an anti time bomb! making the doctor to become infected with an anti time infection! making him concive himself as the childhood time lord rhyme known as Zagreus! so now he must distory the entire univerce hahaha, because apperently Rassilon, ie one of the og creatorss of galifray socity wants to make the doctor into Zagrues so he can use him to distroy his emenies!! by distroying him body and soul!!! but what's this??? his former selfes as random people around the time stream coming in with the steal chair????? all led by a very rightfully annoyed Charley because the doctor refused to kill her as she asked because she loves him???? what the fuck will happen next!! all led delightfuly by Romana and Leela, and K9, and a rather jealous and EVIL tardis played by the Brigadier himself!! in between this 3 HOUR LONG epic and delightful advanture, apart from the absolote chaos of the event, you will get a suprisingly beutifull speaches filled with exploration of the meaning of love, of friendship! of a love so strong that it shall forfit between dimantions and also canon, the doctor explores what it actually means to be in love with a companion! and Charley, explores what it means to love him even more strongly back! what it means to be the doctor!! and the fact that the distruction of the tardis is actuall the thing stopping him from completely losing himself to loss and grief 😭, the absolote hammering in of the fact the coraption of time lord scoaity and Rasilon's bigotry, and finally someone understands that if you corrupt the Doctor, you have the absolotle potancial to distroy the entire univerce!! Paul Mcgann screaming for amazing hours, as he has the best time playing the baddy and people who are not the doctor!! India Fisher as Charley giving it her all and being amazing at it!! (also the fact that this delightful story is the leadthrough to one of the most terrefying stories of doccy who history, Scherzo! as it explores the themes of this story in a much more detailed way! but that's a horrefying story for another day XD) (@geronimomo-spd )

The 30th anniversary special is overly long and complicated but mostly it is INSANE ! Alice in Wonderlands, giant animatronic rabbits, Vampires and an evil doctor who hAMS it up,,,,that and 4 different doctors as well as TONS of companions plus the Briggs who is actually the TARDIS. it makes no sense! Compels me tho. Everyone says it with me : Zagreus sits inside your head Zagreus lives among the dead Zagreus Sees you in your bed And eats you when you're sleeping It's the best anniversary special day of the doctor whomst ? (@gnougnouss )

Scherzo

Synopsis

Once upon a time...

There were two friends, and together they travelled the cosmos. They thwarted tyrants and defeated monsters, they righted wrongs wherever they went. They explored the distant future and the distant past, new worlds and galaxies, places beyond imagining.

But every good story has to come to an end.

With no times or places left to explore, all the two friends have now are each other. But maybe that's one voyage too many. Maybe they'll discover things they'd rather have left undisturbed... hidden away in the suffocating, unfeeling, deafening brightness.

Once upon a time. Far, far away.

Propaganda

It’s a great and fucked up dissection of the Doctor and Charley’s relationship, with a healthy dose of body horror (anonymous)

you will never look at the handshake emoji the same way again (october)

Really creative concept. Puts 8 and Charley into a situation where they have to confront their relationship and what they mean to each other while dealing with an incredibly engaging creature. I can't name an audio that suits the medium better and Ive been consuming Big Finish at an alarming rate. Also noises™️ (anonymous)

Absolutely INSANE episode back when big finish was allowed to get WEIRD weird it has everything: heartfelt discussion about the doctor/companion relationship, love, cannibalism, body horror, the exploration of a very alien world. All of this while making full use of the audio medium in a story that could simply never have been done anywhere else. It's a must listen for everyone. (@gnougnouss )   

[princesssarisa]

Once again, it's the anniversary of Branwell Brontë's death.

I see too much of myself in him.

Not in the alcohol, drugs, or sex, but in the young person who had talent and potential, and whose family had such high expectations for him, but who never managed to make anything of himself.

I used to think I would be a successful author by now, or a professor, or at least a successful librarian. But I'm not, because like Branwell, I've never applied myself the way I should have.

I don't know if his problem was autism, ADHD, complicated grief from his mother and two eldest sisters' deaths, or just being a spoiled only son whose father failed to teach him discipline and self-control. Maybe it was all of the above.

My problem is autism, probably ADHD too, and maybe also a lack of discipline and self-control from being a spoiled only child.

Accounts of Branwell's sense of shame and guilt break my heart: "In all my past life," he said on his deathbed, "I have done nothing either great or good." Even worse is the crumbling of his bond with his once-closest sister Charlotte: her blunt statements at the end that his death was a "mercy" for the family and that her grief was for his wasted potential, not for him as a person. Now, I don't blame her for this, because his alcoholism and drug addiction must have made him a different person than the brother she grew up with. But still, some scholars argue that Branwell's worst "crime" in Charlotte's eyes wasn't the drinking, the affairs, etc, but simply his failure to live up to her expectations... and that since there's a fine line between love and hate, it was precisely because she once loved him so much that she was so unforgiving in her disappointment. This makes me wonder how long my loved ones will put up with me before they also dismiss me as a failure and a burden.

For these reasons, I'll always sympathize with Branwell. Even if he did do some shameful things and make life hard for his family, I'll never write him off. I'll never agree with those scholars and critics who treat him as just the big obstacle his sisters had to overcome, or as a worthless failure in contrast to his sisters' glory.

His flaws were too close to mine.

[susiephone]

just remembered an au idea i had as an angsty teen: a world where emotional wounds show up as physical injuries on your body. like imagine the way human interaction would change

wounds fading or resurfacing depending on how you feel. a customer calling you a nasty name for running out of almond milk is a papercut that fades within a couple minutes, an argument that led to the end of a five year relationship is a scar that still hurts to the touch a year later

things that help your mental health like talking to friends, meditating, eating something, going to sleep, journaling, cuddling with your pet, taking your mind off it with a book or video game can make some wounds fade faster, or at least hurt less frequently

wounds that have faded can come back and rip back open if something dredges those feelings up again

everyone who had a complicated or difficult relationship with their parents usually has a wound or two reopen on the anniversary of their deaths

lots and lots of debate on whether emotionally caused wounds can be used as evidence of emotional abuse in court

lots and lots of shitty online discourse about whether it's manipulative to hide wounds a friend or partner inadvertently caused, or whether it's manipulative to not do that

accidentally hurting a friend's feelings but not realizing you crossed a line until you spot a fresh cut on their arm

speculation, theories, research, and pseudoscience about whether certain wounds being in a certain place or having certain qualities is indicative of their cause

people with depression and some other mental health issues having some bruises that never totally go away

having to go to work or school with wounds that are actively bleeding and barely covered by bandages

thinking you're over it, until you hear a certain song on the radio or see a photo of someone or pass a certain restaurant and then a wound suddenly opens back up and you're like "huh shit okay guess not"

like i was definitely a depressed edgelord but there's potential!

[circuitspinner]

got any spiderverse fic recs?

actually, i do! it's pretty much all ghostflower though (and entirely gwen-focused due to my personal biases; i do intend to branch out more at some point) so sorry if you wanted something a little different!

(also, this isn't every fic i've read and liked, just some of my absolute favorites!)

look at me, falling fast is a fic that i have thought about literally daily since i first read it, which means a little over two weeks now. it goes over gwen's perspective of the scenes we get with her and miles on earth-1610 in atsv, and its take on these characters (and gwen in particular) just clicked with me in a way not a lot of fics i've read in this fandom have so far

threading the needle is the only incomplete fic on this list, because i generally avoid things that are unfinished- it was published as a one-shot initially, and the first chapter can be taken as a standalone. the premise is pretty simple: how would atsv be different if gwen had known about the existence of earth-8? once again, i just love the way she's characterized here, especially in that first standalone chapter.

watercolor skies is set sometime after the hypothetical end of btsv, where gwen still hasn't returned home to earth-65. for lack of a better way to phrase it, there's something that feels very relatable about her complicated relationship with her father.

salad days takes place during the timeskip between gwen joining up with the spider society and finally going to earth-1610. i don't have a lot to say about it, other than (like everything on this list) i really like the way it handles the characters.

waiting is a little alternate-universe fake dating au (that spirals into a full-on series that ends up hitting some of the same beats as atsv does, interestingly enough) that i think is really fun to see with these characters! gwen actually makes a decent first impression on miles' parents in this universe

watercolour girl is, in some sense, about gwen's relationship to her hair- and how it relates to the people she loves.

a litany for survival is about the canon events in gwen's life. it's something that just really resonated with me the first time i read it. something about the way it's written just really clicks for me, i think?

to slip from your tongue like words is actually from hobie's perspective; his observations on gwen's obvious affection for miles and his subtle (for him, anyway) attempts at encouraging her to go against the society.

ghost of me is about gwen struggling to cope with the guilt and grief over what happened with her world's peter parker, and being blindsided by the anniversary of his death.

[godofclosure]

TOA Anniversary Munday!!

I, too, have stolen this from Neffi. I’m sorry you keep getting robbed crime has truly become such an epidemic in TOA it’s a shame really. Will no one keep our streets safe 😔 (if it wasn’t obvious that was a joke ty neffi)

Name: Metal

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthday (no year): 10/6

Where are you from? What is your time zone? PST! (So like 3 hours ahead of TOA time), AMERICA RAAAAHHHHHHH‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🦅🦅💥💥

-

How long is your roleplay experience? That. Is complicated. Not entirely sure but let’s just go with 3 years i think.

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? Okay so like looking back I was totally roleplaying with friends in elementary school via text but like we didn’t call it that so that didnt even register until I’d already been in TOA for a year so idk if that counts

How were you introduced to TOA? Mindlessly scrolling the Fire Emblem Three Houses tag and for some reason some random acceptance post caught my attention and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it

-

Do you have any pets? One dog, two cats!! Do not ask for pictures you will never stop receiving them this is for your own good

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Winter because the bugs are dead and I can live without fear!!! (+ I live in some weird climate vortex where the temperature never gets lower than 60 or higher than 80 so I don’t have to deal with whatever temperature nonsense is going on everywhere else)

What is your IRL occupation? Student x2 😔

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Hatsune Miku has me in a death grip. My world is a shrine to her being. So is yours. So is everyone. Hatsune Miku is all. The world is hers. SEKAAAIIIII DE—

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Genshin, pjsk, pokemon, sometimes I stare longingly at persona 3 but I haven’t had time to actually play it yet, whatever random farming game has decided to trap me in my room for the next month straight

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Fire and Torchic :)

-

How did you get into Fire Emblem? I’m ashamed to say I’m one of the smash players who was confused by the random anime men 😔 at some point mentioned it to a friend while playing and he was like “oh the mobile game is a good starting point” and forced me to download it which started the spiral (my disappointment when I learned Sakura is not actually a cat and it was just a Halloween alt was immeasurable)

What Fire Emblem games have you played? Three Houses, Heroes, Fates (all three), Awakening, Engage (+I own Shadows of Valentia but I haven’t opened it I’m sorry I’m a fake fan)

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: First: Heroes 😔 but if that doesn’t count then Birthright, Favorite: Three Houses

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! No particular order: Edelgard, Plumeria, Líf, Yuri, Kagetsu

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! Ashe. I have no idea why. I do not feel this way now I forget he exists frequently sorry buddy

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: First: Chrom (accident, wanted Henry), Now: Chrom (on purpose)- Fates: First: Jakob, Now: Kaden- Three Houses: First: Ashe, Now: Yuri- Engage: Kagetsu. And I’d do it again. Love that guy.

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Dark Flier

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? I want to say “random village npc that lives a peaceful life and doesn’t get involved in the war” but every school I’ve ever been to has had the stupid house system so I cannot deny the truth. I am random academy phase npc that dies on the first mission.

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Realistically Golden Deer but my heart lies with you beagles

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons: Reason & Riding, Banes: Faith & Gauntlets, Budding Talent: Heavy Armor

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? Probably Firene if only because I would die in any other climate

-

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 letters. It took me months to understand why everyone kept talking about toasters

Current TOA muses: Elise and Embla!!

Past TOA muses? Constance, Sothis, Kaden, Kagetsu

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Constance, but I don’t see that happening. The more I looked into her character the more I made connections to stuff irl that I felt like I didn’t have the right to talk about and that fear of accidentally offending someone slowly killed her off

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? I have three moods: “blonde girl that dyes her hair purple sometimes”, “hyperactive man”, and “what”

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Plumeria my beloved writing you would make me so uncomfortable which is technically IC but I can’t put myself through that I’m sorry girl I’m not strong enough 

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? I like the silly. I do very much enjoy the drama of course also though. Haha emotional pain :)

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? TOAAAAA!!!! DROP AN ASKR MUSE, AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS. (No pressure to anyone though of course!)

Favorite TOA-related memories? So many. Too many. Cannot list them all here this is long enough as is. I love you TOA :)

Normal size text, small text, no preference? Small text is too much effort for me but I don’t ever notice the difference unless it’s right next to normal text tbh

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 He lurks. Every day he grows stronger. I don’t know how long I can fight off his return. He has a sword and he is strong and he knows it. Also Metodey for some reason??

[vanquishedvaliant]

Finished Engage.

It was mid.

Gameplay was pretty fun, not like it was the single *best* in the series but honestly the turn to turn square to square tactical gameplay was still up there with the better entries.

But the story... was Power Rangers puppeteering Marth's corpse like a zombie and injecting him with a poor facsimile of Kingdom Hearts. Shallow, juvenile and uncomplicated melodrama that overstays its welcome and introduces too many twists and turns and late game revelations and tragic backstories to have any real coherency.

There's a moment or two in there that works- Marni and Mauvier's allegiance change, Corrupted Hyacinth, etc, but the good moments are just overwhelmed by childishness and a general fear of consequences or permanency in any regard. There's so many one-ups and inconsequential things like Alear dying, coming back to life, dying again, becoming an Emblem, and experiencing no meaningful consequences or repercussions.

Or late-game post-death tragic redemption monologues that drone on far too long like Zephia and Griss, and even Sombron himself, that fail to be very compelling or sympathetic, or even introduce a sense of morose tragedy.

The interstitial Somniel segments feel completely extraneous and tedious and make me long for Gareg Mach actually serving a purpose in the gameplay and narrative, especially coupled with the carnival level minigames they try to entice you to do between every mission, and it just becomes bothersome to keep up with.

And the characters... there's a handful of amusing, funny and likeable characters in the bunch... but they're all extremely shallow and one note. There's very rarely any complicated emotional or ideological barbs on this characters to catch your interest, and the world itself feels incredibly sterile and harmless- other than a few characters that have Tragic Backstories, it doesn't really feel like any real hardships happen in Elyos at all.

At their best, characters in Engage amount to some of the more simple characters from other entries, especially if you compare to Three Houses- it's like every character is Raphael level- endearing, funny, and with a moment here and there of pathos, but not well rounded and intricate characters like many of the others.

Overall... it was worth my time to play for the gameplay alone because they did get that broadly right, but as a whole package Experience it just doesn't hold up- it doesn't engender the kind of deep fixation and intrigue that entries with richer narrative and worldbuilding do, not having enough unique about it to stand on its own.

But as an anniversary celebration game it's also a poor representative of the themes and narratives that the series does well, limited to a superficial recreation of its headliner characters to spout generalized platitudes about hope and friendship saving the day.

The gameplay team had cool ideas and did a good job, but if nothing else it just proves that a Game is not the mechanics alone.

Not a miserable experience, absolutely fun to play, and even worth the time if you don't mind cheesy schlock and you're looking for more Fire Emblem gameplay, but it's not going to be remembered fondly. It's not going to be beloved, and it fails to stoke the nostalgia it so dearly wants to. Something like a 6/10.

And so I go back to praying for a new mainline entry...

[bengiyo]

Moonlight Chicken Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

Last time, things got complicated. We got to see Alan, and learned that he doesn't exactly accept that he and Wen are broken up; Alan and Wen are still living together because Wen can't afford to move out. Gaipa's mom joins the ranks of great parents, but is waving multiple death flags. Things came to a head with Li Ming and Jim, and we all realized how painfully aware of their lives Li Ming is. Heart successfully cheered Li Ming up, and we realized that the Chin Tickle is likely something Li Ming learned from Jim. Li Ming also snuck Heart out for a date and took him to meet members of the local deaf community. Finally, Alan showed up at the diner and started a physical altercation, so things are pretty messy.

Just like with Jim and Beam, I'm really glad we're seeing a glimpse of what Wen and Alan were before. It's fun to see First and Mix play off each other. I want this to be remembered as a gay drama, so we need to see more pairings. Still, they were together for over five years, so I kinda get Alan a bit more.

Cutting from their sweet first anniversary to this fight made me feel tense. First and Mix are great here, and I have to know what happened that soured a five-year romance. This fight feels like it could only happen between two people who know exactly how to hurt each other.

Chapter 5: Wrong You in the Right Time

So Gong seems to have a girlfriend.

Wen definitely has to move out. This can't hold anymore.

You know they must have filmed all the scenes at this other restaurant on the same day, because that same bird is chirping so loudly in the background.

Li Ming hates being told not to contribute, when these worries affect him too.

This breakfast is becoming so awkward, but I'm not surprised Gaipa and his mom are willing to help Jim.

You can see Li Ming growing up in real time as he pushes Jim about Wen.

Au Kornprom Nyomsil cameo as the bubble tea seller (he's the director of My School President). Very cute that it's an interaction with Fourth.

Heart and Li Ming picking up temp work as mascots in the mall was not what I was expecting, but I'm sure it'll let Wen meet them first.

And there he is. It's interesting how Wen can avoid talking about his relationship problems with Jim without Li Ming getting frustrated. Li Ming is determined though, and makes sure Wen knows that Gaipa is around more. I like how fond of the boys Wen is, and how quickly he adapted to communicating with Heart.

You can feel the age gap between Jim and Alan. Jim has no intention of trying to assuage Alan, because Jim knows there's nothing he can say, and they can both stay within the professional sphere in the bank. Still, Alan crosses that line when he asks for the pen, and Jim follows suit to assure Alan that he didn't know.

First is so good. The pissy little head jerk he gave when he realized Wen is involved with the diner loan stands out.

Gong's role in this show is to provide completely reasonable advice and clear perspectives.

Wen, he said to talk in person. Stop calling and just go to him.

Oh, Jim. You're absolutely valid for not wanting to get tangled up in someone else's affairs, but I am aching for you.

Fuck, Alan and Wen had rings?? No wonder he's been so upset. Wen should not have put them through this for half a year. This was a painful breakup scene. First and Mix have been incredible this episode.

Li Ming is lying. It's time for this to blow up.

Saleng also hasn't mentioned selling the dowry yet.

The real fantasy of this show is speech-to-text working consistently.

Look at Li Ming following the father's advice to use physical touch with Heart.

Okay, so Heart at least didn't crash into someone else, but his parents are going to freak about him being injured.

That scene with the family was difficult. Gemini is good, too. How long has Heart wanted to say that to his parents? They can't even communicate with him because they didn't learn sign. Did they provide resources for Heart to learn, but didn't use them for themselves? How long would this have gone on if Li Ming hadn't become his friend? How long has he gone without someone to understand him and hug him?

I like timing Wen's arrival after this fight between Li Ming and Jim. Li Ming questions whether Jim would neglect Li Ming like Heart's family, and stresses that he's the only one who could help. Now Wen is here and things are clear. Jim can't turn him away now.

[profoundchaoscomputer]

aaaaa I think I get what Gojo meant when he set up the whole showdown on Geto's death anniversary. The whole 'two death anniversaries will make things complicated' isn't about writing two dates on Geto's grave if Gojo wins – that wouldn't make sense because Geto's already gone; it's just his body we're talking abou, the "death date" would remain the same.

if Gojo dies, then Gojo gets a grave with a December 24th date. Huh. What do we do with this information, because yeah thats gay af, and regardless of dramatics... why?.

Having in mind that regardless of Gojo living or not, other sorcerers would eventually take down Sukuna and Kenjaku or he himself would jump bodies, then that could make them both Geto and Gojo be buried together Achilles and Patroclus style. I think that was Gojo's aim on the whole "lets fight on my one and only's death anniversary".

It makes things easier... I think? at least on Gojo's mind. One grave, one date on the plaque, letters fitting nicely, and future visits simplified for everyone left.

Also the whole lets reunite again, on the same day, and all the other romantic stuff, but Gojo being Gojo, I wanted a more Gojo-esque explication.

[thehandworld]

Gift Drabble for the TYL!au

((As we both know, you can do as you please with this drabble. Thanks for requesting and sorry that it took a while. But I got it done! ))

-

This day was a special one, as it was the anniversary of Haru and Gokudera becoming tied to each other in matrimony. It would be a lie to say that life was easy and without trials and tribulations, but that’s what life was. It was a struggle, and she was glad that she wasn’t alone on that.

Her relationship with Gokudera was both simple and complicated. There were many things to worry about, especially with the death of Sawada Tsunayoshi. There were many complicated protocols, but not without reason. She always understood why she had to do certain things, or why she may suddenly be asked to go somewhere without asking too many questions.

At the end of the day, it had to do with safety. Her safety was a big cause of concern for Gokudera, and she appreciated it, but also felt guilty about it as well. He already had a lot to worry over, and he always had to worry about her as well. It would make sense to say that maybe he felt guilty towards her too, what with all the things she had to deal with.

She could’ve been an average civilian, she wasn’t born into the life of the Mafia, but because she loved him, she stayed with him. Unlike others, she had to worry about where she was going, who she could meet, and whether or not the person she faces across the corner is an enemy.

It would be a lie to say she didn’t feel even a sliver of regret, but she knew full well that if she were given another chance, she’d still make the same choices as she did in this life. Though perhaps she would have preferred to become more involved—despite what the others may have said.

As she finished setting the table, she could hear a sound coming from the front door. Excited, she rushed to the door to open it, expecting to see her husband. Sure, the Storm Guardian stood at the door, but it wasn’t quite like how she expected to see him. She gasps as she quickly moves to support him before he falls over. “Hayato!”

The weight of his body once more reminds her of the weight that mirrors the gravity of the situation at hand. Most couples may be able to enjoy a wedding anniversary with a cute date, or celebrate it in a romantic way, but she was probably going to be spending hers tending to her husband.

Worry and fear were the only two emotions she felt coursing through her veins, and as much as she wished she could beg for him to stop—she knew he wouldn’t listen. Just as he cared for the Vongola, so did she. She couldn’t in good faith ask him to forsake everything, and neither would she really want to, despite how much heart ache and worry this caused her on a nightly basis.

She held onto him tightly, trying to feel his heartbeat, allowing his body temperature to engulf her smaller frame. It reminded her that he was right with her, and he was alive. “Welcome home.” She speaks quietly, keeping her voice measured and calm, not allowing her fear to sound through her voice.

He did promise to do his best to return home early today because it was their wedding anniversary. Even when hurt like this, he did his best to hold true to his promise. Though it would nearly give her a heart attack, he did come back. “Welcome back, Hayato.” She whispers as she slowly starts to move him through the doorway and into their home. “Let’s get you looked at first.”

Seeing as he didn’t stop by the hospital first, his injuries shouldn’t be fatal. A quick cursory look showed that he had some cuts and bruises, and perhaps some burns? She bit her lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, but she stopped before her teeth broke through skin. A big rush of emotions swelled in her chest, but the pain in her lower lip always reminded her of what not to say.

Hayato was the one in pain, and he was beyond stressed out. The least of what he needed now was to feel guilty on top of that. To have to deal with her emotions. Even if it did feel unfair sometimes, this is what she signed up for the day she accepted his proposal. She knew this is the life she’d lead. Like a supportive wife should, she did her best not to show how upset she was. She could be calm and at least thank the stars that Hayato returned to her side—alive.

Making sure to get him situated on the couch first, she went deeper into their home in search of the first aid kit. She would hear of no complaints or assurances that he was ‘fine.’ She knew better than to simply trust his word for that.

Returning with the first aid kit, she had a quick though run through her mind, and it was the fact that the food was probably going to get cold by the time she was done tending to his injuries. Well, what else could she expect? Oh well, it was easy enough to reheat food, but it was difficult to have to come face to face with the concept of death.

Sitting next to him on the couch, she rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming back home.” She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost him too. For sure, the Vongola would fall apart if even he were to die, surely. “Alright, let’s get those injuries of yours tended to. Your wife will hear no complaints.” She said stubbornly.

Both of them knew that once Haru set her mind to something, it was difficult to ever convince her otherwise. “Arguing with me about this results in me ignoring you. We both don’t want that on our anniversary of all days, so be good.”

Wedding... The happiest day of his lip, he felt so luck to marry Haru, the reception, the party everything was a mix between Haru and his taste, he remember vividly as day, as his memories would bring that image again and again whenever he had to remember something nice.

The smell, the sounds, the taste, everything looked so vividly.

But right now the smell was of gunpowder and blood, the taste was of pure sweat and blood, and everything looked in smokes and fire, honestly, a surprise attack? There were a few cuts and a few minor bruises, yet he deemed himself good enough, it probably would ruin their celebration but he promised. Promised to be there early.

Calling the Vongola to clean and deal with the after, as he gets up and goes to his house... His home to the love of his life. That... He didn’t want to worry or anything but seems like it was impossible not to.

As he opens the door and greeted by her, he wanted to hug her, hold her and kiss her lips, they were celebrating their marriage, but instead all he could do was almost fall over. Having her supporting his weight, it was unfair and the difference too high. Yet she did.

Bringing him to the couch and starting to undress him to go tend to the wounds. The Thank you and welcome, made him smile as he moves slightly to take a star keychain.

In their marriage, Hayato gave her a chain with one star keychain in it, and since then, every celebration as a couple, he would bring a small start keychain different from another to her. During the marriage anniversary he would bring a larger one, to represent it, so it was his way of making everything more meaningful.

Your present... I’m sorry I was a little late. He smiles gently, as he now closes his eyes and let it rest, if he didn’t wake up for the next three days, it is because his body was healing and he needed the semi-coma state for it to do it quickly. But he was home, he made it, he was also able to give her the star gift. Everything... Would be okay. 

----------

Drabble submitted by Neo: May 9, 2021 2:50 pm

It’s been 3 years Neo, and honestly, I really want to take this time to express my love and sincere and honest, thank you. Thank you for be this amazing woman that wrote for me even when I was in Hiatus, not knowing if I would come back or not. Thank you for saying so many amazing things and keep answering threads that has been also YEARS since the start. Thank you for be my friend. Thank you very much. And I will keep saying thank you, and feeling grateful for the rest of the days. I love you dear.

Emi.

[winterpinetrees]

Voyager Country (The Gap Years Part 29)

July 20th 2019

Red Oak Harbor, the Storm Coast.

The Mercuralis family and Amedi visit Ryn's old home for the anniversary of the moon landing. Emphasis that it is his old home.

..............

“It’s so strange. I was never taught a Voyager language, but I can almost understand it”. Even as she talks about linguistics, Amedi can tell that their seneschal is giddy with delight. 

“The grammar and basic vocabulary are ancient, I think used before the Crash. The rest is modern, even human? I keep hearing English and Russian and Common Lazarin. There’s something else that I can’t identify though…” 

“You can recognize all of that?” Amedi says with little interest. 

Esther looks down. “It’s all very procedural. I shouldn’t have bothered you”.

They had officially been on duty until late on the 18th, but the two of them spent most of that day trying to find outfits. Ryn had said they should wear white and gold if they had it, representing lunar rock and the golden visors of human space armor. Red, blue, and green could be good accents, but only worn in small amounts. Amedi, unfortunately, didn’t own much that wasn’t Kebero red or Mercuralis indigo. Esther hardly owned any clothing beside her uniforms at all. In the end, Amedi gave the girl a pair of globe earrings with lab-grown sapphires and told her to just borrow something from the Voyagers once they arrived. 

(They nearly suggested borrowing something from Devanna, which is comical in hindsight. The councilor has about the same body type, but would never let a human wear her clothes. Also there’s something awkward between Esther and her seneschal. )

The Voyagers were happy to share, but they swear these sparks have a grudge. As a member of the High Council, Amedi’s appropriate title is “Your Eminence”. Before that, they had just been Sir, or Adept when speaking to other nobles. The Apex herself lets these people call her Izzy or Auroch, and nicknames are part of the culture, so Amedi lets the Voyagers call them Dee or Ash. They smile good-naturedly, but seethe a little. Can’t these backwater elves (and half-elves and humans) recognize their vambrace? Do they not notice the badge for victory in their fourth year, the six kill markers, or the trophies of war? They should at least see the leaves and spirals of the Spring Army and take that as a justification to not risk their temper. They’re not a child anymore. Certainly noble traditions aren’t any more complicated than measuring years in eights and eighteens like Voyagers do. Anyway, they don’t stop Esther from beaming at her suggestions getting more use. The locals also make good coffee.

It’s a fascinating place! The crowd is half human, mostly wildbloods that Amedi guesses came from Africa or the parallel Caribbean coast. The elves are more varied, but all follow the color scheme of lunar whites and golds. Ryn casually introduces them to his family. His father Halcyon is another tattooed Stormson. His mother Tenera drags her right foot when she walks, but apparently has an interest in their shooting. His oldest brother Procyon has a more canine aesthetic, and wears dog tooth earrings to match centuries-old bite scars. Cyon also holds a human infant, a direct descendant of himself and a human woman who died a century before. Ryn skips a brother he’s on bad terms with to find Gia, a mild-mannered Voyager who seems almost out of place compared to their adventurous siblings. Amedi thinks of their own family back home. Their brother will attend the Conservatory soon, and join them in the merited nobility if everything goes well. 

The most fascinating thing is the hope. They know Voyagers believe they will someday return to outer space, but they assumed it was a myth, like a fated death of the gods at the end of time. Walking around under the tents in the quiet rain, Amedi feels a passion like what has seized the lower nobility around the palace. Elves discuss modern science over fifty-year old recordings, news is passed around about apprenticeships for new trades, and humans even shout for children named after the men on the projector screens. 

Well, not just humans. Fedran, it turns out, is an archaic word for the planet Mars. Amedi thinks they knew that once. Ryn’s mother explains that Fedran was an ancient god of forges and fire. Once the ice sheets began to recede and belief in him faded, he became a sort of patron of mechanics. Elves have walked on Mars twice (Amedi does know that), but then the ice began to melt too damn fast and society Crashed and no one ever went back. 

“His name is a promise,” Ryn explains. “His generation is going back, and we are making that possible”.

Fen chases human cousins through the rain. Half-Mercuralis, half-Voyager, all symbol. A shiver runs down their spine despite the heat.

……………..

An elven voyager with gold paint over her eyes raises a drink and toasts to Ishtar as “Doctor Braun”, and Ryn has a hand around the collar of her shirt within seconds. The albatross tattoo under his vambrace is clearly visible, a symbol of his endurance and skill as a captain. 

“Say that again,” Ryn snarls, and she and Arjuna look at each other in shock. They haven’t seen Ryn instigate a fight in decades. Their children never have.

The other Voyager breathes quickly. There’s fear in her eyes, but like most elves from Ryn’s home, she keeps her cool. “I said your wife is Wernher von Braun. Why are you so mad? He ran NASA, now she’s bringing us back to orbit”.

Ishtar decides to step in. “What is this?” She towers over her second-in-command and the woman he’s fighting. 

Ryn turns back to her with a dark glare. “A Nazi turned American engineer”. 

She waits for the other Voyager to explain. “Basically, yeah”. 

“Human politics don’t concern me, Ryn. You know that. So, what did I do to you? Friends in the human world? A Betrayed family member? Angry that I killed Emer Sondaica?”

The Voyager blinks and her eyes flicker to Ryn’s hand by her neck. “Betrayed friends up river,”

Arjuna calmly steps forward. He looks good in white. It matches his eyes. “Lying”. 

Suen whispers to her brothers. Isolated from the real horrors of court, this is scandalous to her. She doesn’t know why her father can hear heartbeats. 

Ishtar lets his statement sink in. “I truthfully do not care. Enjoy the evening”. 

Ryn releases the woman and slinks back to the family. Chandra takes his hand. “That was so cool! When did Mom teach you how to be scary?”

He tries to laugh but his voice is ragged. “No, no. I taught myself,”

……………

“The woman I knew never would have gone out quietly,” says Ryn’s father, a man so known for adventurous violence against human ships that he was known as Halcyon the pirate before he earned the title of Stormson. “Izzy told you she let go of her scepter? That the final duel was just for show?”

“Well, she got out of it without any real injuries, and I trust my captain”. 

The old Voyager reaches for the tattoos over his collarbone. Twenty-six black bars, one for each ship he helped commandeer over a hundred and fifty years. Ryn’s heard all of the stories. 

“Emer deserved better than what we gave her. Even her harbor name was a reference to how noble she was. We drove her back to those…”

His father trails off but doesn’t break eye contact. His oldest brother, Procyon, takes after their father the most, but Ryn shares a lot as well. All Voyager captains think some of the same thoughts. He can guess the insult and shouldn’t have expected better. “What do you think she deserved?”

“Acceptance. Respect. A name for a proper Voyager. I’d rather have fought a hurricane than her with a cutlass, but all we ever talked about was her magic”.  

It’s a Voyager joke. You do not fight a hurricane. The most elite Voyagers learn to work with the storm and become its symbolic children, but when the earth sends you a category six consequence of hubris from ten thousand years ago, you bring the ships behind the barrier islands and go inland for a few days. 

“She was a good kid. I don’t know what about the throne called her like it did, but she made her choice”. His voice goes quiet. “It must have been the same thing that called you”. 

Ryn needs to defend himself. This is a challenge against his very family and way of life. He does not know why he is so reactive today. Stress? Fear? His noble vambrace is heavy and vulnerable to water. “I wouldn’t have done what she did. I wouldn’t kill someone I love”.

“Would your Apex? You’re lucky to love Ishtar as much as she loves you. I don’t think she would have let you go”. 

Ryn stands and glares. “I’m her first mate, not her seneschal. I’m-”

“I don't know what a seneschal is, Rion. Voyagers don’t keep slaves”.

A cuter nickname for little children. For the millionth time, Ryn wishes he were a noble. He wishes that the very air would crackle with his rage, and that his eyes glowed like rocket trails when he wanted to make himself heard. Ishtar set off an earthquake on the day of the coup. “I’m doing this for us! So we can get our sorry selves back into orbit! The nobility needed a quartermaster and we needed someone in power with actual plans, which happened to be my council. You don’t have to like it, I didn’t even see you for a century, but the throne does call. It calls a whole city of noble bastards and maybe a hundred idiot sparks like me!” He closes his powerless gray eyes and listens to the sound of the wind. “Maybe Izzy would kill her lover for the throne, or me if I tried to desert, or maybe I’d do the same. I don’t plan on finding out”. 

“The truth has a way of revealing itself. Why did Ishtar kill her if she let go of her scepter? It’s because their kind destroy themselves”. 

“So do we! You know full well Voyagers did keep slaves, Northern ones at least, and Cyon got mauled by a bloodhound over it. You don’t get to judge. You don’t understand how the nobility are”. 

His father sighs. He is nearly four hundred and his hair has gone mostly gray. When Ishtar is four hundred, she’ll barely feel it. “You don’t regret anything?” he asks. 

Ryn hardly spoke to his parents for a century. He has a body count, including of children. He will unleash a plague to kill some horrible fraction of the human scientists, engineers, and sailors that they’ve dedicated an entire holiday to. He misses an old friend who died because he didn’t yet understand revenge. 

“Nothing”.

Neither man stands to leave. 

………………

A small brown hawk flies from the branches of a cypress tree and perches on the main pole of a tent. The rain has mostly stopped, and it fluffs it's feathers. Ishtar and Ryn both look at it like it is a messenger from the gods, and one of them believes it.

“We only ever saw her at school, didn’t we? She never got to see this place” she says. The hawk stares down at the two of them.

“It’s a sharp-shinned hawk, Izzy. They’re common here. A sparrowhawk would have brown spots on the underbelly”.

“Life and death, you sound like a seneschal”. She leans back on the bench and throws her arms over the back. “I thought commoners were supposed to be the spiritual ones”. 

Ryn sighs. “Voyagers don’t believe they return to this world in bird form, or otherwise”.

The distance between the Ryn and the people who named him is a thousand leagues wide. On some level, this is an afterlife. The stormson died at the Conservatory with the girl who’s genus was symbolized by a brown-spotted raptor. Ryndrion Stormson Mercuralis is accepted, but he isn’t fully there. His second brother looks right through him. 

“She’d always keep watch, remember?” 

The hawk stretches out one broad wing and preens its feathers. The clouds behind it are pink and orange with the sunset. 

“We could handle it better, but she insisted”. If one of them had been at the top of the tower with her that last night, would she be with them now? Maybe Kavec Adust, that menace, would just have sent a second assassin. Ishtar didn’t take his life for it when they took his stronghold, but her husband would a hundred and fifty years later. Share the load, he’d said, already wracked by hallucinations and nightmares. Her friend’s murder was child’s play compared to Arjuna’s line of work. Ishtar stops mid-breath. They were children.

Ryn shakes his head. It’s a violent action, like he’s tearing his eyes away. “Izzy, it’s just a hawk. I’ve seen them here since I was a kid”.

She doesn’t know how to honor a bird that might be someone she loved. The high nobility worship nothing but their own devastating survival, and Besra hid whatever she did believe during her years in their teenage army. It could have been an empty story the entire time. She extends her open hands in a salute. It’s something to do, at least. 

The hawk flies away after that. 

…………........

At the end of the evening Ishtar and Amedi bump shoulders with human workers and help put everything away. Some of the decorations will be used as soon as the first real hurricane, others will be stacked up until the next year or next milestone of Ishtar’s program, whichever comes first. It’s a small life, what they live here. It reminds Amedi of home and makes Ishtar nostalgic for something she’s never had. Nonetheless, they don’t ignore it when their vambraces light up with an urgent alert from the palace. The two politicians know not to expect anything good from urgent messages, but the news is worse than they imagined. 

There has been a massive break out at Agate prison. All almost all prisoners in the main cell blocks are free, barring a few who are dead. Three Betrayed guards have been murdered, shot dead with a human pistol. The only good news is that the human girl who Amedi cursed has been captured alive. 

They tell Ryn that they need to return and make some sort of statement, but Ryn can stay if he would like. He rarely ever goes home, and the people, especially commoners, will respect a decision to stay when there isn’t anything else he can do. Ryn looks over his shoulder at the party. He’s weathered in a different way than the other adults of this town. His injuries are from other elves, not the worlds themselves. Ishtar imagines his eyes sweeping over the spider lilies climbing up the walls and the lights glittering in the trees. This is the climate he misses during dry summers and when earthquakes shake the palace. Ishtar knows him well. Well enough that she isn’t surprised when his hands clench into fists. 

“That is very considerate of you. But I want to go home”.

They decide to leave the kids with their grandparents for a few days though. Neither of them have the strength to break Fen’s heart and drag him back so soon.

...................

No authors notes this time but that the uquiz is a great way tell new college people about this whole thing. I am going to pretend that was the plan all along.

@lokiwaffles @reggie246