#i think link and mob would get along well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monpalace · 1 year ago

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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.

content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.

warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.

notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.

supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.

idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.

The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.

Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.

The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.

Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.

Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.

(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)

You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.

The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.

If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.

Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.

(Three days was an eternity to you.)

Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.

Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.

The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.

Instead, it was still.

Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.

When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.

You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.

It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.

A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.

Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.

To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.

You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.

Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.

The music was coming from inside the manor now.

Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.

Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.

(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)

(You did, thankfully.)

There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.

Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.

You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.

You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.

You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.

You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.

It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.

Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.

In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.

Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.

You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.

"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.

The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.

When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.

(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)

(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)

You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.

"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"

The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.

All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.

Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.

He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."

He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.

"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"

"The spirits."

"The spirits?"

"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."

Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"

You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.

You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.

His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.

"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."

You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."

An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.

You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.

A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.

He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.

"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"

His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."

"He.. cooks it, right?"

Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.

"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."

He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.

When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.

Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"

(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)

(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)

"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.

"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.

"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."

You raise a brow but don't speak your question.

Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.

A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.

Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.

You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.

It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.

(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)

The floorboards creak beneath your feet.

You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.

Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.

If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.

It reminded you of a dog.

Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.

"Are you decent?"

His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.

You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"

"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."

"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."

There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.

The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."

You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."

Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."

"Oh?"

"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."

Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"

He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.

"Link."

"Link?"

"Yes."

"Like in a chain?"

".. Yes."

You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."

"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.

"And thank you."

There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."

"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."

Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.

"How come your side of the house is always dark?"

You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.

There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.

"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."

It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.

"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."

There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"

Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.

"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"

You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.

(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)

(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)

You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.

"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"

There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.

Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.

The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.

"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."

If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.

"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."

"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."

"Are you scared I'll poison you?"

Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."

You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.

"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"

'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.

Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.

You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.

"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"

Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.

It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.

You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.

Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.

Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.

Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.

You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.

It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.

Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.

There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.

You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.

"I'm sorry!"

You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.

You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."

A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."

When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.

"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"

Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."

Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."

"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."

"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."

"Is that an offer?"

"Are you headed home now?"

A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."

"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."

Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.

You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.

You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.

They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.

You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.

You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.

You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.

You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.

You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."

"How'd you know?"

"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."

A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.

It was a pretty blue color.

You don't comment on it.

"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.

He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.

It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.

"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"

A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."

"You don't mind?"

"He's not too far off from them nowadays."

"Does he miss anything?"

Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.

You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.

The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.

You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.

Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.

"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."

His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"

"Hmm?"

"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"

You're silent.

What exactly did you miss?

The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—

There wasn't any need to be a sap.

"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."

"You have visitors like us often?"

"More than you'd think."

"And what's become of them?"

The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.

The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.

"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"

The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.

You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.

There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."

"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"

Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.

"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."

"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"

Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"

If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.

"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."

Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."

"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"

Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."

"Is she red with a white mane?"

"You saw the kids' drawings?"

"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."

You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.

When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.

"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"

His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.

"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"

"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."

"Same for you."

The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.

"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"

You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."

Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.

"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.

"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.

You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."

The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"

"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"

The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.

You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.

"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.

"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."

"Is that a threat?"

The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.

'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.

"Well?"

Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."

The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.

You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?

You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.

"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"

"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"

Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude."

Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Woah."

If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.

"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.

"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."

Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.

Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."

"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.

"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"

When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.

"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.

"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."

Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.

Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."

Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"

Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.

He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.

"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."

You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.

"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."

"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"

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elliegoose · 3 months ago

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got tagged by @annunakitty in a thing! yippee tag game!

now the tag game was to introduce yourself with:

one tv show

one movie

one album

one video game

however, i'm doing two for each category! why? because i'm cute and special and get to change the rules, of course! and also because i'm really enthusiastic about sharing my favorite things with people.

tv shows: adventure time & scavengers reign

not being able to pick between these two shows is the reason i'm doing two for each category. adventure time is my all-time favorite show hands down, but scavengers reign took second place (overtaking russian doll, which previously held that rank) when it absolutely blew me away earlier this year. i've watched it twice now and definitely plan on giving it a third watch sometime soon.

movies: i saw the tv glow (2024) & suspiria (2018)

as someone who repressed my gender really hard throughout most of college after flirting with transitioning in high school, this movie really spoke to me. i've seen it twice now and found a lot of value in the rewatch. i definitely want to watch it again at least one more time. this is an incredibly profound movie that has changed me as a person.

on the other hand, suspiria (2018) is an enduring favorite of mine for a very silly reason. it is a straight up good movie, but the actual reason it's my second pick for this post is that for like a year after first watching it, i kept seeing the mangled bodies of characters from it as sleep paralysis hallucinations. it was terrifying at the time but i find it incredibly funny to look back on, and think very fondly of this film in general. i got to rewatch parts of it for free irl! thanks, sleep paralysis demons!

albums: feather river canyon blues by pigeon pit & kudzu, devour everything! by levees

for two years now, feather river canyon blues has very unambiguously been my favorite album of all time. it's lomes oleander's bold, dense, imagery-filled lyricism at its best, backed by the full band that her voice deserves playing alt-country sounds that strike the perfect balance between gentle and energetic. it's simultaneously desperate and hopeful, joyous and melancholy, and at every moment filled to the brim with emotion and beauty. this album feels like watching every sunset at once surrounded by your best friends and loved ones. transgender folk music will save us. if you have to pick one song from this album to listen to, make it milk crates:

kudzu, devour everything! is the reason i started playing banjo. levees is a friend of a friend, and i was introduced to their music because said friend was praising this album in our friend group's discord server. i find levees' idiosyncratic manner of clawhammer playing--often very fast and full of non-traditional rhythms--to be absolutely magical. their songwriting is also excellent, full of vivid stories and characters sung about in prose that weaves effortlessly between the elegantly straightforward and beautifully dense. i also recommend listening to their album vultures, as well as quarantipilation volumes 1 & 2. it's actually not one of the songs that contains banjo, but if you have to pick one to listen to from this album, i recommend her/hymn/their, which won't embed for some reason but hey here's the link

(also, honorable mention to drink the sea by the glitch mob, which is the first album i ever really fell in love with, and which inspired little 13-year-old elise to grab a copy of ableton and learn how to make music myself. until feather river canyon blues came along, i would have probably picked drink the sea for this post.)

video games: signalis & mice tea

first off, i cried at the end of signalis! while streaming! it was really, really good!!! it has a delightfully dreadful atmosphere, great story, very interesting worldbuilding, phenomenal art style, and excellent character design. plus, it was great for practicing my german. i strongly recommend signalis to anyone who likes survival horror.

second off, yes, i am choosing mice tea, a transformation fetish visual novel, as my second pick here. judge me all you like. i stand by my choice. its story is fun! the characters are excellent! its humor and conceptual ridiculousness disarm you and make way for genuinely emotionally impactful storylines! it has a lot of interesting commentary on gender! it almost single-handedly turned me into furry! also, it's hot! go play mice tea!

now, finally, it is time to tag! don't feel pressured to pick multiple things or provide explanations like i did! i just enjoy doing more than is assigned lmao. tagging @rotten-spaceymage, @birras0, @citrusuprising, @roboticvenusian, @femboty2k, and anyone who sees this and wants to do it themselves!

#elise.rtf #music #Bandcamp

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saintmeghanmarkle · 8 months ago

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to be a Zombie carcass crawling after Catherine forever by u/ElectricalAd9212

to be a Zombie carcass crawling after Catherine forever Central to the psychosis of Markle was her fantasy of being 'besties' with The Princess of Wales.When Catherine's attitude was basically, OK, no, I have three children to raise, a husband to support, a Monarchy to think of, a nation and Commonwealth to serve, a depressed brother to love, and a Grandmother-in-law Queen to spend time with, Markle became a psychopath obsessed with hatred.Its essentially the same dynamic as a mean girl in school who, when an elegant and popular and kind and beautiful girl refused to bow down to her, went all out to whisper nasty things to harm her.That is basically Markle's whole story.It can be seen as a multi-year psychopathic campaign by a stalker and there's never been anything like it before, involving misinformation, millions spent on PR, an entire Netflix show, podcasts, book, hoaxes, and lies and slander, all to harm Catherine, because she refused to pander to this deranged psychopath.Now, we're seeing PR planted by the lunatic along the lines of 'its such a shame Meghan and Catherine couldn't be friends, they could have done so much as besties and support each other', like the thing in People magazine the other day.So she's sussed that open annihilation psychopathy won't work, its now soft passive-aggressive regret to associate herself with the Princess of Wales.This will be the tone of everything now. Imagine Markle fantasising about an interview she gives. She writes the piece for the journalist.'There is a wistful, sad look in the Duchess of Sussex's eyes when she speaks. She looks into the distance, towards the shimmering light of the late afternoon sun and sighs. I notice a change in her voice. She looks down and says, 'Its so sad. Things got in the way between us from the start. On both sides. Forces prevented her from reaching out to me as I reached out to her. If anything, I was to blame for not giving her the space to free herself from those forces. I should have been more patient. I truly believe that to have an African American Duchess as the closest friend and adviser to the future Queen could have brought harmony to the world. I do regret the forces that were against us. And I feel so sad for her illness. When I heard, I wish I could have been there to hold her hand. But I understand she can't break the mould and reach out to me. So I move on.' She sits in silence and then says, 'but I'm a survivor. I'm a Duchess. I am royalty. And my TV shows, and my line of air fresheners and sandals and candles proves that.'Here is the thing.The only way she can have anything is by being soft.So its always going to be vibes like that.Always associating herself by distance with Catherine, who recent moments have shown to be the most famous, fascinating and beloved woman in the world.Markle thought that her ascent would be by poisonous whispers and abuse and vicious incitement and frenzy against Catherine. She expected the whole world, especially America to join in. Look at how her social media mobs operate. Like a mob pulling the hair and kicking the nice girl who offended the self appointed mean girl queen of school.Instead she has destroyed herself, and now plays humble and soft to still try and be associated with her obliquely.But it is what it is. All it shows is that Markle's plan now for the rest of her days is to be a psychopath stalker by stealth, to be a Zombie carcass crawling on the ground trying to follow Catherine everywhere, to get as many coins as she can from whichever witless people in media or grifter philanthropy are fooled by this psycho. post link: https://ift.tt/OHP5Xfo author: ElectricalAd9212 submitted: April 12, 2024 at 02:41PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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stitchthesewords · 2 years ago

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Redstone for Writers Part 2: Redstone Adjacents

Okay! You made it through the basics but you still have some questions - How do minecarts work with redstone? What's a logic gate? How do you keep yourself from getting lost in more complicated redstone machinery? Well good news for you - Part 2 is here! I've tried to split it up into what everything is - minecarts under the Minecarts section, an AND gate under the logic gate section, so on and so forth.

But first- How do we keep from getting lost?

An excellent question! The answer, my dear friends, is wool. Redstoners often make wool farms in survival because its a cheap, reliable, and easy way to get distinct, brightly colored blocks to keep track of multiple lines of redstone, as seen below.

Now, that particular redstone machine is more simple than the monstrosity that, say, the Decked Out 2 bus line is, but I think it gets the idea across. You want to keep your redstone more or less on the same line and I'll be doing my best to do so when I get into some of the more complicated logic gates further on in this resource. Not all redstoners do this, but I find even when you know what you're doing it can be helpful to see at a glance what line goes where.

Minecarts

Lets start this section by talking about the different kind of carts

At the very front here is the standard Minecart. This minecart allows you or another mob entity to ride it. You can drive it forward and backwards very slowly with your movement keys.

Starting from Left to right along the back row is the Furnace Minecart. You can put fuel in this minecart and it will self-propel on tracks forwards and can also push other carts on the track. One piece of Coal or Charcoal allows the minecart to run for 3 minutes. IMPORTANT: The Minecart will run in the direction you are facing when you place the fuel inside. This minecart can also link up with 2 [the wiki says 4 but I tested it and it only ever would pull 2 so. For our purposes, 2] other minecarts and pull them along if done in a very specific way, demonstrated in the gif below.

Your back two minecarts need to be against a wall and you must place the furnace minecart so that it rolls back into them. They will unlink if the minecart goes around a bend so this can only be used in specific situations such as moving villagers or items between a straight point a and b. For this reason, the furnace minecart is more often placed at the back. However, a furnace minecart can only push 1 cart from the back, but it can go around corners because they aren't linked. There also needs to be a gap between the furnace minecart and the minecart it's pushing so the furnace cart can get started before they bump into one another. It can push carts uphill and maintains the same speed up or downhill for the entirety of its runtime.

The next minecart in the line is Chest Minecart. This minecart has the storage of a single chest and can be fed into by hoppers and also feed out into hoppers. The more full a chest minecart is, the less boost it gets from powered rails. An empty chest minecart goes 64 blocks from a powered rail. A full chest minecart only goes 16.

The next minecart is the TNT Minecart. There are several ways to activate the TNT within the minecart:

Activator rail

Destroyed in motion [except in creative mode]

Destroyed by fire, lava, or explosion

Hit with a fire charge [Java only]

Instant Detonation can be caused by:

Falling down more than 3 blocks

Hit by flaming arrow

Runs into a block or entity with velocity

Runs into a block or entity on a curve

it starts with an explosion value of 4 [which is the same as standard TNT] but the game randomly assigns it a bonus value of up to 1.5 times its velocity. The faster its moving, the more it explodes. If it falls, the game divides the distance by 10 in order to determined the bonus value.

The last minecart seen is the Hopper Minecart. This is functionally exactly what it sounds like, with a few important differences. The hopper minecart pulls items in at a rate of 20 items per second, which is 8 times faster than the standard hopper. If the hopper minecart is on an incline when it pulls in items, it goes even faster. It can be locked and unlocked with activator rails, which will be discussed a little bit later. TLDR: A locked hopper cannot pull items, an unlocked hopper can.

There are also two other kinds of minecarts, Spawner Minecart and Command Block Minecart. The command block minecart is obtained using the /give command and the spawner minecart is obtained using the /summon command. The command block minecart is functionally the same as a regular command block within a minecart. The spawner minecart is functionally the same as a spawner within a minecart, with the exception that the mob being spawned must be set during the /summon command or with NBT tags - it cannot be set with Spawn Eggs.

Now for the rails. From left to right we'll start with the Rail. This is just your standard minecart rail and is the cheapest of the 4 to make. They are the only rail that can curve. If hooked up to a redstone signal, you can flip the direction of the curve .

Next up is the Powered Rail. These rails can be powered with a redstone signal which accelerate a minecart travelling over them. Additionally, if the minecart is against a block and the rail is powered, the minecart will accelerate - if you power the rail without the block behind the minecart the minecart wont go anywhere. A powered rail that isn't powered acts as a brake.

Next we have the Detector Rail. It is activated when a minecart is on and and deactivated when there is not a minecart on it. In its activated state it outputs a redstone signal which can be used in other mechanisms. The power level it outputs is 15 unless the detector rail is connected to a comparator, in which case the comparator reads out the fullness of the minecart on top of it. With a tnt, furnace, or regular minecart, the comparator outputs a 0. With a chest or hopper minecart, the comparator reads out the fulness of the container as discussed in Part 1 of this guide.

Lastly is the Activator Rail. This can activate different components when powered, such as TNT or locking hoppers. An activated rail can also eject mobs and players when their cart rolls over it. An activator rail can also trigger command block minecarts. An unactivated activator rail can unlock locked hopper minecarts.

Clocks

There are an endless variety of clock options in Minecraft so I'm only going to go over the most common/easiest ones that I personally use frequently. These pulse a redstone signal for things that need to be fired repeated, say for example a dropper or dispenser.

Our first clock is a form of rapid pulsar clock specifically called a Torch Loop. This is the oldest form of clock in minecraft.

Another very old form of clock in Minecraft is the Repeater Clock. Functionally this works the same as the above clock, but more compact and easy to control. The clock, however, has to be manually started by placing and breaking a redstone torch fast enough. An easy way to do this, seen in the video, is letting a torch burn out on top of a redstone block.

Both of the above clocks can be extended by adding more torches or repeaters but overall, control over their speed is not great. For a more modern approach to rapid pulse clocks, enter the Observer Clock. This is a clock made by two observers facing each other.

All of these clocks, you can pull your redstone pulse from anywhere there is dust or torches on the clock, as long as the redstone further down the line does not output its own signal and feed back into the clock.

Below is a Hopper Clock which is by far the most useful of the modern clock builds in my opinion. The two hoppers, as you can see by the arrows, feed into each other. They can have a variable number of items inside them from 1 to 320 items, and each time a hopper completely empties into another hopper, the comparators pulse causing the pistons to move the redstone block. The redstone block locks whatever hopper it's in front of, meaning that the hopper can't spit out the items contained within it until the other hopper empties out. You can then pick a side to pull a redstone signal from and pulse that signal into your builds. If you need a pulse longer than 320 items for whatever reason, the hopper clock can be linked to another clock.

#dont reblog this yet!!!!!!#please and thank you!!!!#the logic gate section got WAY too long so I'm having to break it up into smaller sections #but I want it all to be on the same post #So

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millylotus · 2 years ago

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Jason Todd & His Romance Novel Dreams

Inspired by this post/thread [started by my wonderful mutual @help-i-need-a-cool-username]

I love Jason being a literature nerd, but what's a more fun facet of this is his Jane Austen Fanboyness which easily leads into Romance lover Jason.

Alot of this idea sprouts from Dead On Main [Jason x Danny Fenton/Phantom], but I also am a multi shipper so this could be put to literally anyone with Jason [b₳tce$tor$ dni, don't even].

The down side of my love for this up and coming trop it that I am not a classical literature girly, nor do I read regency novels [all I got are clips of bridgeton & queen charlotte]. But I had a mad manwha faze during middle school, and lemme tell you Jason would thrive in those world tbh.

This response by @samaraistop from the linked post along with Hidden Route by Kuroishuuha on ao3 [which is basically an otome game isekai fic where Danny is the Villainess & Jason is the shitty fiance, go check it out] inspired me to make this post.

IDEAS

Classic Isekai Into Book/Otome Post Mortem Or Sleep

Truck-kun makes a surprise visit in the US & fucking no clips Jason [no I'm not thinking about the batfam's reaction to this let me have my fun]

Or maybe the first time he dies Jason is reborn into another world, specifically a royal high school or something

Baby boy decides to take his new chance at life as the main character or villainess of his favorite manwha

Maybe the end of the story is when he wakes up in his coffin and he isn't even sure if it was ever real

Second Chance Rebirth

The Waynes are some highranking nobles, maybe even royalty in this fantasy world

And Jason is killed somehow, his og death of being lured away by his bio-mother to be killed for money is already a pretty acceptable death in many manwha

Then of course he's reborn, maybe the day before or the day he meets Bruce or the day he's adopted

Anyway he gets a second chance at living

I don't usually like Cannon x OC but tbh this idea would work well with OCs

General Tropes I Think Jason Would Like

Harem trope: doesn't matter if it's all girls or all boys [though Bi!Jason is my headcanon so a mixed group would work] I just want Jason to be trying not to break any hearts but also being easily overwhelmed by so much love

Arranged Marriage: Enemies-lovers or maybe childhood friends-lovers, just give this boy someone he might not want or someone he is already head over heals for

Villainess's Revenge Rebirth: LET JASON KILL & BE PETTY, he gets Joker out of the way so quick, then he becomes a mob boss and gains a group of close advisors who are also his love interests b/c that happens alot and I like it

just, AAAAH 😆

#millywrites #jason todd #jason's romance novel dreams #red hood #dc #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfiction prompts #can you tell i've been obsessing over this for the whole day

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kingofdrakon · 1 year ago

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The Spawn Cycle

Well, well, well, if it isn't a second minecraft lore community I can share my minecraft soul theory with. A truly joyous day. Buckle up, because this theory/headcanon has quite a lot.

Souls As one might be able to tell, souls exist in some form within the minecraft world, and seem to come in multiple parts. This would be whatever souls exist in soul sand/soul soil, and experience. I believe the former is closer related to the true soul, while the latter is literally accumulated life experience.

The Spawn Cycle In minecraft, things can spawn, or are born (which could also be considered spawning), and things die. However, when a mob dies, its soul doesn't simply fade into the void, but respawns instead. I'm not sure whether it would be possible to respawn as a new mob or not. As one can expect, this would logically apply to sapient mobs as well, such as villagers, piglins, and whatever group the player is a part of (I will call them humans for simplicity). But here is where things get interesting.

The Respawn Beds have some sort of anchoring ability on souls who use them. Wherever the bed is, that place is considered home. Humans, however, developed a special ability, the power to literally respawn in current form wherever their home is, defaulting to the world spawn. Uniquely, their experience is imprinted on their actual soul, allowing them to retain memory when they really shouldn't. This resulted in humans being able to outcompete other mobs and achieve a worldwide dominance. However, I consider this ability to be not exactly available to the whole population, as how then could the human society have fallen with none remaining? I also think it may be possible the ability could suddenly just stop working after a while, resulting in a permanent death eventually.

The Immortality Project (Mostly headcanon) As one could expect, someone would make the connection that it would be great if the entirety of humanity were truly immortal through this respawning method. Some performed an experiment in order to grant this onto the rest of the population, which succeeded horribly. As people died, they respawned wrong, their mind broken, their flesh beginning to decay, their souls corrupted. What's worse, this soul corruption was transmissible, and would overtake the entirety of the human population, save those who naturally possess the Respawning ability, as their souls were already able to do so. I think this one has something to do with the ancient cities and sculk.

The World of Undead Now, corrupted souls lurk in every place conceivable within the overworld, waiting for darkness to allow them to spawn again and spread the curse further. It is in this world where villagers live in fear, yet are capable of being cured, and piglins cannot step out of the nether without fear of zombification.

Other neat things I also theorize that the compass pointing to spawn isn't pointing to some sort of magnet, since a magnet has two poles and where would the other one be? Instead I think it points in a direction along which the respawning souls of the overworld flow, journeying to the world spawn and back out into the world to spawn again. The compass is attuned to the journey to spawn.

Lodestones have some sort of property, perhaps related to netherite, that allows them to redirect the flow of souls in a certain area, and attune the compass to that flow.

The soul corruption affects the different sapient mobs differently, with the worst affliction being on the humans, who are nearly universally corrupted and incurable. The second worse is the Piglins, who suffer in strange and unique ways, such as fire immunity (perhaps as a result of their nether adaptations) and are also incurable. The best off are the villagers, who managed to avoid the curse almost entirely, save for direct infection, and even then can be cured.

Potions and their ingredients are likely linked to souls in some way.

Beacons and nether stars are definitely connected to souls, perhaps using the flow of souls to power the effects they bestow.

The wither and wither skeletons are probably the purest form of the corruption, and the wither effect is as well.

Carved pumpkins are able to redirect the flow of souls into certain constructs, which facilitates the creation of golems

Sculk literally uses parts of the soul (experience) to fuel its growth, and those souls swirling in the shriekers and wardens have to come from somewhere.

Tangential side notes: I wish soul sand had more uses in the game. It is literally a block made, in some form, of trapped souls. Forgive me if this sounds a little "dark wizardy" and "unethical" but I want to manipulate souls to create weird and horrifying things, is that so much to ask? Maybe in a hypothetical future magic update. (Pls mojang I beg you)

I feel like I forgot things, even though this is a lot of info, lol.

#minecraft lore #minecraft #mineblr #minecraft theory #minecraft headcanon

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 8 months ago

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Jay Aienyouess

(I’ve already made an information post like this, but said post is pretty long; in fact, it’ll just get longer and more expansive as I develop new characters and stories for [The Future Mob Project].And I’m worried that the sheer length will make readers lose interest when they click on a link to look for a specific character. So, I’ll be making separate information pages for each character while still maintaining the all-inclusive post. Got it? Good.)

Who He’s Based Off Of: Thomas Sanders

His Method of Work: The Pentas Family can be thought of as many things. Well, if you were to think of it as, say, an anglerfish, then Jay would play the role of that bright, shiny lure. He can put on a Grammy-worthy act in the blink of an eye, whether to lead a target to their doom or to keep any potential witnesses away from a soon-to-be crime scene.

Red Attire: Nail polish (Cochineal)

Notes:

On top of con-games, Jay can also be quite stealthy if the job calls for it. Sneaking around enemy turf, setting up a sabotage or two, gathering information, spying on those who give off weird vibes during business negotiations. . .

Unlike most of his peers, Jay was raised in a comfortable, pleasant environment. . .or, that environment was comfortable and pleasant while he was a kid. Things changed pretty drastically after he became an adult; more specifically, after he came out. He ended up leaving his hometown behind, hopping from one motel to another. Though he worked various odd-jobs, he also quickly learned to pick pockets in order to survive.

By the time he had a chance-meeting with a few Pentas representatives, Jay had already somewhat dipped his toes into the criminal underground. Mainly via listening to the hurried whispers of passersby, and then trading those memorized details for cash.

Despite what happened to him, Jay has never once questioned himself or felt ashamed of who he is. Even when he was offered a place in The Pentas Family, he was still very much intimidated by them at first. But the support and open-mindedness they showed was quick to seal the deal for him. This in turn led to him (along with Val) having a hand in making sure that any Pentas-owned businesses are clearly marked as safe spaces for queer people.

He is most certainly NOT immune to morbid fascination. True, he doesn’t do any actual killing himself, but. . .well, I wouldn’t put it past him to look over the carnage left after a hit-job, all curious and thoughtful. The cleanup crew has gotten pretty used to him hanging around while they work.

He works at Bullskit, a theater/auditorium that serves as one of the oldest buildings in the Cove Port Inlets (it’s still in business; it was even freshly remodeled when Jay joined the mob). It’s connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and Jay kinda just lives there after hours. During hours, however, he dabbles in a bit of everything: stagehand, greenroom tech, assistant to the directors, you name it. If a target or enemy happens to get on the stage, Jay isn’t exactly above looking the other way when his peers sneak in to drop sandbags, switch out prop weapons for real ones, rig the special effects, etc.

Current Stories: [TBA]

@sammys-magical-au

#my writing #fanmade egos #my fan egos #the pentas family #[the future mob project]#jay aienyouess #thomas sanders #sanders egos

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nonexistentbooks · 1 year ago

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random rec list :)

These are various things that I have enjoyed a lot over the years. Check under the cut for more thorough notes/warnings, because some of these are really built for specific audiences. Linked to book titles is the storygraph page, where you can also find TWs. Link to poetry are the poems themselves.

books

House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke

The Trial, Franz Kafka. (I don't have access to my copy anymore, so I don't know the translator of my edition, unfortunately)

The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky. I have read both the Pevear & Volokhonsky translation and the David McDuff translation. Don't have a preference between the two, I think.

An Iliad, Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare.

Beloved, Toni Morrison

poetry

If You Call a Wolf a Wolf, Kaveh Akbar

Hanif Abdurraqib's writing, particularly They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us and A Little Devil in America.

"Miss You. Would like to take a walk with you." Gabrielle Calvocoressi

"I Didn't Apologize to the Well," Mahmoud Darwish, tr. Fady Joudah

"Angels," Russell Edson

"On the Death of Friends in Childhood," Donald Justice

"Chou Nu Er: Composed on Wall at Mount Bo on Way," 辛弃疾 Xin Qiji, tr. unknown.

Poem 66 in Hidden Music, Rumi, tr. Maryam Mafi and Azima Melita Kolin.

manga/comics/etc.

The following works by Nihei Tsutomu: BLAME!, NOiSE, Abara, Biomega, tr. include: Melissa Tanaka, Stephen Paul, Sheldon Drzka, John Werry.

Mushishi, Urushibara Yuki, tr. William Flanagan

Witch Hat Atelier, Shirahama Kamome, tr. Stephen Kohler

Uzumaki, Ito Junji, tr. Yuji Oniki

Mob Psycho 100, ONE, tr. Kumar Sivasubramanian (might not be the only translator, but I'm not looking through all the volumes)

shows/movies + one podcast:

Revolutionary Girl Utena, dir. Ikuhara Kunihiko

Angel's Egg, dir. Oshii Mamoru (in collaboration with Amano Yoshitaka)

Cowboy Bebop, dir. Watanabe Shinichiro

A Writer's Odyssey, dir. Lu Yang

Wolf 359, produced by Kinda Evil Genius Productions, LLC

notes on book selections: For HoL, TBK, and Beloved, I'd recommend checking out the trigger warnings. None of these books are especially light, and definitely with HoL, Piranesi and a bit with The Trial as well, you don't know a lot going on. So you have to be okay with putting in the effort to understand these stories and going along with the ride. The Trial was technically unfinished, so after a point, it's the chapters we have from Kafka and in kind of out of order.

notes on poetry: I know some people may not like Hanif Abdurraqib's style, but I personally adore it. I have not read all of his works either, but he is a very solid poet and writer for me.

notes on manga and such: The thing you have to understand about Nihei's works (those that are listed) is that there aren't clear answers for a lot. Especially BLAME!, where there's very minimal dialogue. You won't understand everything on the first on the first read for BLAME! and that's good! NOiSE also doesn't answer a lot and Abara, for some, may seem like it ends on a cliffhanger. Biomega is the iffiest one here because the ending is really rushed. There was clearly meant to be more, but there just wasn't the space to take care of it before it had to end. In all his works listed, there is a lot of violence. WHA is in progress and I haven't caught up in ages, but it's a really solid story so far. Uzumaki is horror, so check out the warnings for that before going into it, if needed. MP100 is also pretty solid. Not without some faults, of course, but I greatly enjoy it and also have a fond spot for the REIGEN spinoff in my heart.

notes on shows and the rest: Ok. So. RGU. really look at the tws for this. The more comprehensive post I can't find, but this is a good summary. Definitely would not recommend it to everyone and there are aspects I am not a fan of (to say the least) but it is a very impactful story and means a lot. Angel's Egg is also not for everyone, but more so because it's a very silent movie and you will not get answers. It's a movie where you craft your own meaning and enjoy the experience. It can also feel very slow. Cowboy Bebop my beloved. That is all I will say. It can also feel slow to some people, but the ending. omg. A Writer's Odyssey may not be the most put together narrative-wise BUT I watched it when sick and fatigued out of my mind, so it takes a place here for being a movie I still remember pretty well. A father will do anything to find his daughter again, even if it means killing this random guy who only seems to be a novelist... except, isn't it strange how his story seems to impact reality as well? Wolf 359 is a podcast but MY GOD is it good. Listen to it. please.

#recs:#poetry #books

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minerwarfare-suzuya · 1 year ago

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Alright, I'mma take this on neutrally compared to my responses with Mobox87's brother SonicCrash since I barely know Hanna besides that she's doing the kind thing to take care of Mobox87 as a close friend and run her Tumblr during her recovery.

The Suzuya alter ego will be out of this and I'mma just be myself on this.

First thing to address, it's good that Mobox87 is improving better mentally and physically getting back up on her feet to live her personal life. I'm not coming off as sarcastic but being brutally honest since despite the harsh criticism from the Moboxcritique, Zombify and I. Along with my violent behavior with my critiques in my comic strips, we don't hate Mobox87 as a human being nor do we condone the threats involving to wish death or rape upon her own mistakes online.

When Nicole went to go DM Cagney for an interview it didn't go well because of how Nicole approached them with their rude remark on Cagney not wanting to voice call with an explanation on why.

Now due to this post being made, Nicole was unaware about it after being block until later on she found out and has claimed that the conversation posted on the Moboxcritique blog is taken out of context in the ask inbox on her second account then goes to slander Cagney along the critique blog.

The issues about the out context screenshot claims is that Nicole has not bother to show proof of that being the case. If Nicole has the guts to call out Cagney over a conversation that didn't go as intended based off of screenshots shared on Moboxcritique blog then she should show screenshots or a screen recording of the conversation as a way to provide proof that Cagney allegedly lied to everyone.

Since Nicole interviewed one of the running accounts of the Moboxcritique blog. Kevonica would be another person that she'd interview which resulted in the same issue as shown in the screenshots that are in the archive link posted on the critique blog.

Zombify would take a part in defense for Cagney and Kevonica against Nicole's allegations about the conversation being taken out of context.

Nicole treated these interviews as a way to intervene in the drama to her liking as a stan for Mobox87. She made the interview with Mobox87 one sided during the stream and has kept it that way towards both Kevonica and Cagney instead of the neutral approach to be in between both sides of the drama.

All these allegations and claims that Nicole made on her Tumblr and Instagram are the ones that's all truly taken out of context.

Nicole is the one who is harassing and you've only fallen for her lies, Hanna.

Nicole is condoning this behavior as a come back for revenge over these threats you don't wish upon your own friend and possibly not to anyone else deep within your own heart.

If this makes you truly feel sick then you should feel the same back with what Nicole is doing since you are not just being the administrator of Mobox87's blog but also being the bigger person to show others that Mobox87 has changed.

The people who follow me and the Moboxcritique or any account against Mobox87's actions might not agree or believe that she's change with our comments and opinions on her publicity online but that doesn't mean we would want to threaten her life or think she deserves death for the things she's done as an act of justice.

So yeah, we're adults but are we harassing a minor as justice for what we do? No, we're dealing with a minor having a temper tantrum by making allegations against the Moboxcritique blog and Cagney for supposed harassment.

Now I know you said that you won't be choosing sides Hanna but you should at least look into our side more over this current beef with Nicole instead of relying on her messages.

Anyways, that's all I wanted to say in regards of the situations narrative for everyone to see and whenever you get to read this Hanna since tomorrow you have plans with cheering up Mobox87🧁.

Yours truly,

MinerWarFare Suzuya

Oh! Actually one more thing for Nicole!

Nicole quit accusing Cagney of lying and harassing you when you are the lier and a hypocrite of doing these proclaimed actions.

Do everyone the favor.

Cierra la boca y toma esta L

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thewildlorelei · 1 year ago

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Love is Sick and Love is Blind (Mob AU)

pairing: wally darling/original female character(Millie Morning)

rating: M

pretty obvious but this is fan content of welcome home

author's note: Really having fun with this story, lemme know if you have any questions about the story or Millie, I’d love to talk about it lol

ao3 link, check here for tags related to rating

Mob Boss Wally Darling

Chapter 3 - I Think I’m Getting Butterflies

Monday and Tuesday went by without anything truly notable happening. She got most of her stuff unpacked at her apartment and was able to find a nice dress to wear for her dinner with Wally. Work had gone smoothly as well, just the usual rowdy people who’d come in. There was no sign of the guys who’d given her a hard time the week before.

By Wednesday Millie was an absolute mess of nerves. Overthinking and worrying about every little thing, concerned about how the dinner might go. She didn’t want to offend him or anything but she thought back to when they’d met in the garden. Before she’d known who he was they’d gotten along just fine. He’d been a little intimidating, sure, but he’d been nothing but nice. Maybe the rumors about him only pertained to people he did business with? Maybe outside of doing his work he was relatively normal.

All she had done since Sunday was think about Wally Darling and it was starting to drive her a little crazy. Hopefully this dinner was just what she needed to get the thoughts of him out of her system.

All day she’d just been pacing around the living room waiting till it was time to get ready to go. It was a little maddening, feeling like she couldn’t focus on getting anything else done that day. Just before 5pm she had finally had it and decided to start getting ready. She curled her hair and let it hang loose around her shoulders. She slid on her dress, a pale blue floor length gown that flared out at the waist. It was sleeveless and low cut but still very classy.

It was getting close to seven, she needed to hurry up and finish getting ready. She didn’t want to be late and make him mad.

Millie had just finished her mascara when there was a knock on her door. “Be there in just a second!” She called out. She grabbed her bag, gave herself one last look in the mirror before going to open the door.

“Well hello there!” Eddie was standing on the other side looking just the same as he had the other day.

“Hello Eddie, nice to see you again.” She said cheerfully.

“It’s a pleasure to see you too Miss Millie. Are you ready to go?” Eddie gestured away from him. Millie nodded, following him out into the hallway, and turning to lock the door behind her. When they got to the car Eddie was polite enough to open her door for her. She half expected Wally to be there sitting in the back seat. It must have shown on her face cause Eddie gave a laugh. “Don’t worry, he’s already waiting at the restaurant.” She looked away, embarrassed as she got in. It would have been a little silly for him to be there anyway, like two kids getting driven to prom or something.

As Eddie began to drive off, she started to get nervous again. Interacting with the mob seemed like a very very bad idea but here she was. She didn’t try too hard to make awkward small talk with Eddie. He seemed very nice but she just wasn’t sure what to say. ‘So you work for the mob, huh?’ Yeah, no. Instead she looked out the window and imagined every scenario that could possibly happen when she arrived. Fortunately the restaurant wasn’t far and soon they arrived. Her mouth dropped a little seeing where they were. It was a very nice place, definitely more expensive than she was normally willing to pay. But just this once she figured she’d suck it up and deal with it. She couldn’t bail at this point anyway.

Eddie once again opened her door for her and led her inside. It was incredible! The interior was grand and bright, not at all what she had been expecting. This place was definitely fancy, she thought, as they walked through the entryway. She was really glad now that she had splurged a little on a nicer dress.

Eddie didn’t even stop to talk to the host, just guiding her right back to a more secluded corner of the restaurant. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as they walked by tables with people already seated. Millie kept her eyes focused on Eddie, not wanting to confirm that people were looking. She was so distracted that she nearly walked right into Eddie’s back when he stopped. She peaked around him and her eyes landed right on Wally, who was beginning to stand up from his seat when he saw her.

“Here we are Miss Millie, I hope you have a nice evening.” He turned to her and once again tipped his hat as he left. She raised her hand in a small wave. Attention turning right back to the puppet in front of her. He looked the same as when she’d seen him before, though just a little more put together. His jacket draped over the back of his chair. He stood with that same relaxed stance like nothing in the world could bother him. She knew it couldn’t be true though, not with the rumors she’d heard.

“Hello, Miss Morning. Thank you for joining me.” He said as he pulled out her chair for her to sit. “You look lovely.” Millie slid into the chair, carefully hanging her bag off the back of it. She was a little surprised at his politeness.

“Thank you, and of course! It’s a pleasure. I appreciate you inviting me out like this, Mr. Darling.” She tried to hide how nervous she felt. He was staring at her very intently already.

“We did agree on it…” He had leaned back in his chair, a sort of lazy look in his eye despite his stare. She hadn’t really noticed the last time but he looked sort of..tired? Like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and maybe it was.

Millie blushed. “We did, I just thought that maybe..you would just forget about me. I’m sure you’re a very busy person.”

“How could anyone possibly forget about you?” Her blush was getting worse, hidden behind her hair. He had better stop talking like that or she was liable to start liking him. His smile got a little bit bigger, like he was trying to get a reaction from her. She looked away, trying not to show that his comment had flustered her a little.

“So tell me, how are you liking your new place?”

At that moment a waiter walked up. “Good evening! My name is Peter, I’ll be your server tonight. Is there anything I can get you to drink?” Wally shot him an intimidating look. “Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting.” He said quickly. Millie hadn’t noticed Wally’s look at all.

“It’s no problem! I’ll just have a water, thanks.” Millie said with a smile. Wally huffed out a breath closing his eye. “Give me whatever your smoothest whiskey is, on the rocks.”

“I’ll have that right out for you.” The waiter hurried away from the table, trying to avoid Wally’s annoyed half-lidded gaze. Millie picked up a menu and looked over the options while she continued from where they left off. “The apartment is great! I can’t thank you enough for your kindness to me last week.”

“Don’t think anything of it.” Wally’s face relaxed again, looking back at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like anything to drink?” Wally questioned.

“Oh um…I actually don’t drink.” Millie said shyly, waiting for the usual reaction she got when she told people. When he didn’t say anything she looked back at him and saw his smile grow like he knew something she didn’t. He was always so hard to read, what was he thinking? “What?” She finally asked. “Oh, it’s nothing.” He said with a slight wave of his hand. “It’s just very interesting.”

She didn’t really believe him but what was she going to do? She certainly wasn’t about to try and call his bluff so she just let it go and moved on. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked at her carefully for a moment before nodding his head. “What…what made you decide to help me? You could have just…kicked me out and moved on with your life. So…why?” She didn’t say what she really thought. ‘You could have killed me.’

He closed his eye again, leaning back in his chair, considering his response. “There was something…special about you.”

Before Millie had a chance to ask what he meant by that the waiter returned with their drinks. Millie ordered a relatively simple but fancy salad. When the waiter turned to Wally for his order he held up a hand. “Nothing for me.” Millie was surprised. “Oh, you aren’t getting anything?”

“Problem?” He responded, a hint of warning in his voice. “Oh! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to question you, I was just surprised.” Millie said quickly. ‘Don’t forget who you’re talking to.’ She reminded herself. He was still very dangerous.

“And you? Only a salad?” He asked. Millie smiled at him and vaguely gestured to herself. “I mean, does it really seem surprising?”

“I guess not.” He appeared amused by that, his relaxed smile quirked upwards. They chatted some more while they waited, not that they had to wait long considering the ease of the order and the fact that they were dealing with Wally Darling. They certainly weren’t going to keep him waiting. He asked about her job some more and she asked him how he got her out of work that night.

“I just made a couple of phone calls, that’s all.” He told her.

“Really? That’s all? Amazing.” Millie laughed lightly. Her boss was a bit of a hard-ass so only having to make a call to get her out of work seemed surprising, but this was Wally Darling after all.

The waiter returned with Millie’s food, telling her to enjoy before running off again. He was trying to stay as far away from Wally as he could.

As Millie began to eat she felt awkward having him just sit and watch her while he sipped his whiskey. She felt like she was overthinking every move she made. Maybe she should try and keep him talking at least.

“Can I ask about your family? Last time you talked about them so intensely, I’m so curious about all of them.” She asked, taking a bite of her food before looking back at him.

He smiled at that. “You want to know about my family?” She nodded. “Well each of them is very special to me, I would do anything to protect my family.” Taking another sip of his drink he closed his eye in thought. “There’s Barnaby, Howdy, Julie, Sally, Frank, Eddie, and Poppy. They are the ones who are closest to me in the world. They each have their own talents…and uses. We are all loyal to each other and any of them would do whatever it takes to support the others.” He trained his eye back on hers. “We’d never leave someone behind.”

Millie sighed wistfully. “I wish I had family like that. I’ve always had such a small family and it’s only ever gotten smaller and smaller, and now it’s just…me.” She picked at her food, deep in thought for a moment.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’ll be alone forever.” His eyes were back on her, looking at her like he was seeing all her thoughts and feelings.

The conversation went on and shifted, Millie finished her salad but they kept chatting. He seemed very interested in her and her life, asking lots of questions. She tended to be a bit of an open book, not really minding discussing her life.

“You said your mom died before you moved here.” He asked suddenly. “Oh, uh, yeah…” It still wasn’t easy to talk about. They had been very close and thinking about it always made tears well up in her eyes.

“That’s very unfortunate, my condolences.” Wally’s eye softened slightly, she almost didn’t notice.

The waiter returned with the check for the food. “I hope you had a lovely evening, here is the bill.” He placed it down on the table.

Millie began to grab her purse from her chair before she heard Wally’s stuttered laugh. She stopped, looking at him. “What, you think I would be stingy enough not to pay for your dinner?”

Millie flushed red. “Oh…um..I didn’t want to assume, you know? You’ve been so nice to me already…”

“Don’t be silly, I invited you out after all.” He said reaching into his pocket and handing some cash to the waiter.

“Thank you, Wally-oh I mean um, Mr. Darling.” She saw him stop when she’d said his name, an unreadable expression on his face. “...No need to be so formal now, you can call me Wally.” The evening was coming to an end and soon after Eddie reappeared, ready to take her home. Millie stood up, grabbing her bag from the back of her chair. Wally suddenly got up from his and walked up to her. “Thank you again for joining me.”

“It was really nice, thank you.” Millie gave him a kind smile.

Wally was staring intently at her face when he suddenly raised his hands, placing one on her jaw, keeping her head still, while his other hand gently brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

Millie stilled in his light grasp, looking into his relaxed eye with her shocked ones. Wally hummed for a moment, thumb brushing lightly over the heart on her cheek before releasing her, letting her bangs fall to cover her eyes again. It was quick, but she had seen his eye flicker to her right eye for just a moment before he’d let go.

“I would like to take you out again sometime…” He said, and she was feeling a little bit breathless all of a sudden.

“I’d…like that.” Millie couldn’t deny feeling a bit captivated by him.

“Good…till next time.” He nodded his head and turned to grab his jacket before walking out through the back door.

As Millie closed the door behind her once she got to her apartment she couldn’t help the strange feeling that washed over her. It was similar to how she’d felt that first night after she’d met him. Did that really happen? How did she get in this situation? It felt surreal.

She felt excited at the idea of seeing him again. And that was strange too. Was she starting to…like him? Her brain told her she shouldn’t, he was a mob boss, he was bad, but…she couldn’t help that giddy feeling.

Suddenly Millie’s phone started to ring. She quickly went to pick it up, it was so late, who could possibly be calling? She picked up the phone, putting the brightly colored receiver up to her ear. “Hello, Millie Morning speaking.” “Hello, Millie? This is Dr. Flora.” Millie paused, a little surprised. “Oh! Is everything alright? I wouldn’t expect a call so late.” “I tried to call earlier but you didn’t answer.” “I’m sorry, I was…out, but it’s alright, what did you need?” Millie felt nervous, calls this late usually weren’t a good sign. “...I’m sorry but I’m going to have to stop our appointments. I’m afraid I can’t see you anymore.” Ah yes, there it was. She was right, it hadn’t been a good sign. “I’m…sorry to hear that, can I ask why?” Millie bit her lip, feeling a little worried. “I…just have too many clients right now and I need be able to dedicate enough time to everyone. Unfortunately since you are the newest one I’ll have to stop seeing you.” Her voice sounded a little off.

“Oh…” Millie couldn’t help the hurt that she felt hearing that and she was sure she hadn’t been able to hide it in her tone. “I promise it has nothing to do with you. I’m so so very sorry for this. I wish you well in your life going forward. You’re a very nice girl, please…stay safe out there. It can be dangerous in this town and…well….nevermind. I’m sorry, good bye.” Then the line was dead. That was so odd. What she had said made sense but…Millie couldn’t help the feeling that she hadn’t told her the whole truth. She sighed, putting the phone back down on the base.

“Guess I’m on my own for now.” She walked back to the living room, feeling overwhelmed with thoughts about everything.

It felt like she just kept getting left behind over and over. No one really wanted her. She sat on the couch and hugged her knees to her chest. Tears stung in her eyes as she turned on the TV to distract herself from things for a bit.

At least Wally still wanted to see her again. She had to admit it felt good to have someone who seemed to like her and want to see her.

Millie sighed again, laying back on the couch, stretching out her limbs. The TV was playing some puppet led kids show in the background, she wasn’t really paying attention. Millie closed her eyes, feeling so tired from the long day. She couldn’t help wondering when she might see him again, it was really starting to feel like he actually liked her. Maybe she wasn’t just some random girl who he helped on a whim. Maybe there was more to it than that, she wasn’t sure.

All she knew was that things were changing faster than she could keep up with. She could only hold on and hope that in the end things would be better.

author's note: Things starting to pick up a little now lol hope you liked this one~

#welcome home fic #welcome home mob au #welcome home puppet show #wally darling #millie morning #love is sick and love is blind #this chapter was so hard to finish #life was being rude like every day #like hey im just trying to indulge in some shippy fun with these characters #lemme write pls

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