#if this all sounds very self serving and like i’m thinking of myself as more internally rich and importsnt than men that is because i am 🤍

[sapphic-luthor]

How did you realize your bisexuality was actually comphet?

mostly time, i think. i also at one point just started identifying to people as a lesbian before i was 100% sure and even though it felt a little bit wrong, because i just figured if i leaned into it for a while and it still felt really wrong then i could say ah actually i was wrong everybody, i’m bi! and no real harm done. but eventually it did start feeling like the more correct label for myself, and i realised that the “attraction” i had to men was very much more about enjoying the chase and the complicated dance of the heterosexual dating dynamics; i was essentially just toying with men and i found that fun and the attention was validating, but i never took anything emotionally seriously at all because it was all kind of just a game.

ultimately when i got a little older and realised that maybe i did want a solid, valid intellectual and emotional connection with somebody, i just literally could not imagine in any capacity that a man could be what i needed. like even now i just cannot fathom any world in which i can lay in bed at 3am and talk about the intricacies of what it feels like to be me with a man that i know just isn’t really going to get it— i would always feel there was some unbreachable gap between us and i’d never feel like it was quite enough for the romantic connection i demand with partners.

[milykins]

Hacked

I felt like I needed to redeem myself with Donnie since I’ve had a couple comments where people expressed feeling sad that I had a girl scream and run away from him in a previous headcanon. I thought maybe I should give him something sweet and fluffy. Added some fun quotes as well.

Special thanks to @iridescentflamingo @the-cauldron-witch @avery73 and @sophiacloud28 for all of your help with this story, editing it and helping me with ideas! I hope you enjoy reading it!

Aged up TMNT x Reader

TW: None: Donnie's system keeps getting hacked into and he gets increasingly more frustrated.

“No I’m not playing hard to get! I’m telling you, Sir, it’s not that kind of phone line!”

“It’s always the time for accuracy, Leo.”

“When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“Let me be the bad-ass for once.”

On the outside, Donatello was the brain, the tech-wizard, the tinkerer. A master of all things technological and a true intellectual able to solve a Rubik’s cube in less than 20 seconds. If it was broken, Donnie could fix it, if it was a seemingly impossible situation, Donnie could figure it out. His three brothers relied heavily on him because he was the smartest, even Leo because there were some questions even he couldn’t answer. This is how it had always been, and he didn’t mind for the most part. He did feel like he was a valuable asset to the team if not a bit overused.

On the inside however, he was the shy one, the introvert, the one who secretly feared being alone forever while slowly descending into madness from his own self-induced seclusion.

Despite Chief Vincent telling them they’d be accepted by society, the collective agreement to stay hidden remained. It had served them well, why mess with it? As they aged into adulthood, it became glaringly obvious. Loneliness, the fear of being forgotten after their father passed on. The crushing reality that he may very well die alone.

He wasn’t like his brothers. Mikey had gotten himself on the scene pretty easily and had made friends and had girlfriends. Raph too, had managed to snag someone, even no-nonsense Leo had. That just left him and he couldn’t help but think. What was the point of having all of this intelligence, creating all of these wonderful inventions, all of the things he’d built… if there was no one but his brothers to share it with?

Donnie acted like it didn’t bother him but secretly he felt it: a sort of crushing loneliness that seemed to stretch on and on. Sadly, he’d sort of given up on meeting someone. It just wasn’t in the cards for him… or was it?

It had started off innocently enough, one day he’d come to work on his computer and noticed something was… off. His desktop looked normal but none of the icons worked when he clicked on them. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a false desktop placed on top of the real one. Odd, he thought. Who had managed to even do this? He’d had the best firewalls and encryptions and security that not even the FBI could crack. Yet, he’d been hacked, someone had hacked him.

He blew out a breath of disbelief, ran a diagnostic and fixed the issue in no time. He did a careful sweep and found nothing else out of the ordinary. He chalked it up to a fluke and went on with his day thinking that was the end of it.

Then it happened again. Upon sitting down in his computer chair he noticed his taskbar was horizontal.

“What the hell..?” He fixed it and upped his security and left it at that.

A week after that all of his icons were replaced with Hello Kitty characters. He was beginning to feel annoyed. Who was doing this, and why? It seemed like they just wanted to mess with him. Frustratingly he couldn’t figure out how they kept getting in. Every time, he strengthened his security it didn’t seem to matter!

He reached his breaking point the following week when he was re-routed to a popular Pokemon meme every time he clicked on something. He was going to find this person and ask them to stop. They weren’t that hard to trace and soon he was purposefully typing a message.

Please stop, you’ve had your fun but it’s getting old

No :)

Seriously, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

Someone who can’t even stop a low-level hacker, clearly.

Who are you?

No one :)

Why are you doing this?

I’m bored, it’s fun

Bored?! How did you even find me? These servers are highly encrypted!

LOL not enough… I was just bouncing around and found them.

Are you with the Foot?

What?! No? I told you, I was bored and saw your shit, and took it as a challenge.

A challenge indeed. Stop this now, this is your final warning.

He broke off their connection then because that had better be it.

Of course, it wasn’t. One boring Saturday night, he was zoned out, totally engrossed in one of his projects. His computer screen flickers a moment. He almost doesn’t see it thinking it’s a trick of the light but it does it again. Curiously, he moved to his computer screen. When he realized what was happening, he actually laughed.

“Seriously? Again?! They have no idea who they’re messing with…”

It was clear that this was same someone who had been hacking him for weeks was trying to get into his system again.

“I’ve got you this time…” His fingers fly over his larger-than-normal keyboard as he managed to secure a one-way live video feed.

“Someone forgot to cover their webcam…” He sang, “Hello, you’ve been hacked by Donatello, I thought I already told you to cease and desist.”

You are absolutely mortified. You’d been doing this for fun, and had no ulterior motives. Truthfully you had been bored and loved a challenge. Yes, you were warned but you didn’t think he would hack your webcam! Immediately, you attempted to hide, hoping he didn’t catch a glimpse of your face.

On his end, Donnie first heard a soft, distinctly feminine gasp and a string of curses. There’s a flurry of movement as you tried to move out of the range of the camera and swiftly stick a piece of tape over it. More shuffling followed, along with the sound of you returning to your computer chair.

He can’t help but feel amused. “There’s no point in hiding, I saw you. How did you think this was going to go?” He waited patiently for you to answer.

You swore softly. The cat’s out of the bag. Swallowing your embarrassment you gingerly peeled the tape off. It didn’t take you long to notice that the video feed only went one way. That was unfair and you intended to change that.

“Sorry…” you murmered. Shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna get you for that!

He took a moment to get a good look at you. Even with the soft lighting of what he assumed to be your bedroom, he could still make out your pink cheeks, flushed flushed with embarrassment and the bridge of freckles across your nose. It was… cute.

“Sorry?” He echoed. “That’s it? You still didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I have to?” You’re trying to keep him talking while your fingers worked their magic. If he could do it… so could you.

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. You’ve had your fun, go bother someone else, please.” He replies.

“But I like bothering you.” Almost there… just a few more seconds…

Donnie has to scoff at that. “You don’t even know me.”

“Not yet… there you are!” You cheered as you manage to tap into his own webcam.

In a split-second Donnie had instantly ascertained that she’d been distracting him. To his horror, the little red light of his webcam had blinked to life. Two seconds too long which meant he’d been seen…

“FUCK!” Immediately he cut the power, sending it straight through to your house. He was panicking, he’d been compromised, he was going to have to wipe her computer, all of her hard drives. His heart was pounding and his breathing had quickened as he tried to tamp down the panic he felt. No, maybe he’ll just find her… ask her to keep his secret…? All options were equally bad. What do I do…?!

Luckily, it didn’t take long for that powerful brain of his to think of a solution, albeit a temporary one. His fingers flew over the keyboard once again, restoring power on her side before getting to work.

You were utterly confused. Two seconds ago, maybe five…? Once the webcam was active, you saw what appeared to be the green, blurred image of his face. Was he wearing a mask? You heard the panic in his voice and the ensuing curse word right before your entire room was plunged into darkness. What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

Just as quickly, it all came back and your computer was rebooting. Okay… you attempted to type once it was all back up and running but something was wrong. Nothing was clickable, nothing worked save for the cursor on your screen. Furrowing your brow, you kept trying, but to no avail. Then, something finally.

A message popped up on your screen and you wasted no time in reading it.

Apologies, I had no choice but to freeze your system. I promise I will explain everything but I need to do it in person. Meet me here:

There was an address to a building between two cross streets and he was asking you to climb the fire escape to the roof.

At first, you scoffed in disbelief. Hell no, you weren’t going to meet some stranger on a rooftop at some weird location. Did he think you were stupid?

Then, as if your mind is being read, another message popped up under the first.

I understand if this is something you might be uncomfortable doing but my identity and the safety of my family is at stake so I must give you an ultimatum. Meet me or your computer will remain frozen.

You swore softly to yourself. This wasn’t something you could fix on your own and you knew it.

You murmured a sarcastic reply. “Well, damn, I guess I’ll just go die then,”

He was giving you no choice and you needed your computer, not only for work, but it had everything. You considered it one of your most precious items. After a minute you’d made up your mind but you still packed your taser and pepper spray just in case.

Donnie was an absolute bundle of nerves. He’d already arrived at the location and was pacing back and forth while sticking to the shadows. He was berating himself about how stupid this plan was. She wasn’t going to show up, but he’d giving her no choice. He did feel a twinge of guilt but years upon years of lectures from Leo had made him be extra cautious. He couldn’t risk his family’s safety because he was careless.

You were nervous too as you carefully climbed the steps of the fire escape. Luckily, the building was only four floors but you still would’ve liked to take an elevator. Reaching the top, you took a moment to catch your breath.

“I do… computers… not stairs… you better be here.” Upon first glance you don’t see anyone and your annoyance grows. “Hello? Please don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing, I just want my computer back.”

Again, there was no reply.

Talking to yourself you groan. “Fuck… you are such an idiot…”

Donnie was only slightly panicking. To his amazement and relief, you showed up. In his anxious state he did manage to notice you looked kind of pretty despite the frown gracing your features. He felt frozen the moment he saw you but snapped out of it pretty quickly when he saw you about to leave.

“Wait!”

You turned. It was actually him. You recognized his voice prompting you walk closer to the source.

“Hello? If you’re here please show yourself. This is sus enough as it is and I’m already over it.” You couldn’t mask the exasperation in your tone. This was already beyond ridiculous.

Donnie had to admit he found her frustrated tone kind of endearing. In a fleeting thought he’d felt she was someone who could match wits with him.

 “Okay, okay, hold on, I’m coming out. Just… do me a favour and don’t scream, please.”

Arching an eyebrow you repeated. “Don’t scream? What kind of question is… oh.” You saw one extremely long leg and then another followed by a lengthy torso and a very green… okay, that’s definitely not human face. “Oh… so it wasn’t a mask…” It wasn’t as though he was unpleasant to look at though, just different.

He was trying his best to control his breathing, bracing himself for some kind of negative reaction. When none came, he took a breath and spoke, trying to keep his tone as even and neutral as possible.

“You see, when you hacked my webcam, you had unwittingly put me and and the safety of my family at risk… this is why I had to s-see you and why I froze your computer.” He was cursing himself inwardly for stuttering.

You were still trying to find your voice. You had SO many questions and actually still a bit annoyed. “First off… how…? You’re a turtle… I doubt anyone would even believe me… and… second… I didn’t even really see you! It was a complete blur and then you cut my power!” You exhaled as you took another breath. “NOW, I’m seeing you.”

Donnie couldn’t help but flinch a little. “I had to make sure, I had no idea how much of me you did see.” A soft sigh followed before he continued., pinching his skin just below where the bridge of his glasses was resting. “And if you had listened when I told you to stop, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”

He’s got you there and unconsciously you bite your lower lip. The stubborn part of you, however, wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. “Well, how was I supposed to know that you were a… seven foot…”

“I’m six feet, eight inches.” He interrupted with his matter-of-fact correction.

Another exasperated exhale from you. “Sorry, six foot, eight inch… turtle man!” emphasizing your point, you gestured wildly at the full length of him with your arms. “Who’s apparently so good at hacking that my entire network is completely frozen and I had to drag my ass across town to beg you to unfreeze it!”

He was a little amused by this, he had to admit as his mouth quirked a smile. “Like, I said, I had to be sure, and might I remind you once again… you were the one messing with me.”

“Yeah! Because you were fun to mess with! It was giving me a chance to practice, and it was just innocent fun, it’s not like I could do what you did! And… AND you wanna talk about an invasion of privacy? You hacked my webcam first!”

Donnie blinked, she was really getting all worked up now, and he was trying not to stoop to her level. He was failing. “I only did it because I didn’t think you’d stop! I gave you fair warning.”

“I would’ve stopped!” He doesn’t believe you at all and you hate that because he’s right, messing with him had been too much fun.

“Really?” he deadpanned.

“Yes,” you stubbornly replied.

There’s no stopping his eyeroll at that. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

She crossed her arms with another soft huff. “Fine, don’t believe me.” A shrug followed. “So, now what?”

The tall turtle paused. Usually, he had all the answers but now that he’d frozen her computer and dragged her all the way out here, he felt at a loss of what to say. “I… I just wanted to make sure you’d keep my secret and not tell anyone.”

“Okay… I won’t.” A simple answer, and a truthful one. You watched as he looked at you a long moment. No doubt wondering if he could trust you or not.

Donnie was actually subtly checking for very slight facial cues to determine whether you were lying to him or not. He could tell that your heart rate appeared to be steady. Your gaze never wavered from his, no dilation of her pupils and no mouth tics either. He believed you.

“Okay.” He finally said. “Thank you. I’ll unfreeze everything once I get home.” He turned to leave. “Please get home safely.”

Wait… that was it? Just like that, he was leaving!? “Wait!” You rushed forward to grab his arm. “Wait… that’s it?”

He looked… confused? He had immediately zeroed in on your hand clutching his bicep and then back to your face. “Yes…? You agreed to not tell anyone so… you probably should… let me go? The less you see of me, the better? I thought you were… angry anyway.”

Reluctantly, you released his arm, speaking softly. “I’m not… that mad, I never was really, I just… didn’t want this to be… it. I feel like I could learn a lot from you.”

You watched as her hesitated, seemingly working through his own inner conflicts at this presented opportunity.

“You could…” He turned back around, facing you once again. “Although, you’re already pretty good, I was actually impressed that you’d made it as far as you did.”

You couldn’t help but puff up a little with pride. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.”

He actually laughed. Like a soft little chuckle with a wheeze, his lips blossoming into a smile. “Perhaps you could.”

You smiled back, that laugh of his was adorable. “I’ll let you go but, Donnie… don’t be a stranger, okay?” You already had known his name from getting into his system so many times.

He spoke your name too, softly. “Okay, I won’t.” He looked a little shy then. “Please, allow me to escort you home. It’s late.”

“How very chivalric of you.” Smiling at him with a nod. “I accept.”

Donnie looked pleased with this turn of events and then a little nervous. “I could… carry you, if you want, it’s faster going by rooftops.”

That was an unexpected offer. and now you hesitated before answering. “Oohkay… what are you, some kinda parkour master?”

He snorted softly with a little smirk. “Something like that, ready?”

When you nod, you’re scooped up into his arms at speed that makes you exhale quickly. Being in his arms and feeling the power they held was… nice.

“Hold on tight.” Is all he says and then he starts running.

Automatically you wrapped your arms around his neck watching as the edge of the building came closer and closer… and then, you were flying. Air shooting past your face at a speed that made your eyes water. Your stomach dropped and you clung tighter as you sailed through the air, landing with a thump on the other building.

“You, okay?” He wasn’t even out of breath, like this was easy for him.

“Yes…! Do you know where you’re going?” You ask a little breathlessly.

“Yep. Hold on, I’ll be there in ten.” He took off again, leaping across to the next and the next.

You had to admit it was probably the most exhilarating thing you’d ever experienced and you were actually a bit regretful when he stopped on the roof of your apartment building. Carefully, he brought you to your feet and pushed those large glasses of his up a bit.

“Here we are.” He was more relaxed now, you noticed and felt glad for it.

“Thanks, I appreciate you bringing me back.”

He offered a shy smile then. “You’re welcome. I dragged you out there, the least I could do is make sure you get home safely.”

“That is very much appreciated.” Feeling a bit shy yourself, you paused before heading in. “I’ll see you around.”

“For sure.” Donnie had found he didn’t want to leave yet either, he wanted to make sure you entered the apartment safely.

Heading in, you waved to him before closing the door behind you and took a deep breath. Wow… that really happened. That was incredible! You could barely contain your excitement as you went back to your apartment.

Once Donnie arrived home, true to his word he freed up her system and felt proud of himself for handling things the way that he did. He blew out a breath, leaning back in his chair a moment while lacing his fingers behind his head.

*bing*

He glanced at his screen to see his computer icons dancing and an unseen song playing in the background.

Ninja, ninja, rap, ninja, ninja, rap, go go go go. Go ninja go ninja go! Go ninja go ninja go! Go go go go!

Donnie snorted softly to himself and quickly typed a response.

Back in your apartment, your computer screen suddenly became flooded with memes. Mostly turtle ones of course and try as you might there was no containing your giggles and snorts as you watched them take over your screen. You liked him; there was something very endearing about his quiet shyness mixed with his sharp wit.

Typing back, you take over his screen once again. You took a breath and pressed enter. This was a big chance you were taking but you couldn’t help but feel a connection with the tall, lanky turtle man.

Go on a date with me

Check box yes or no

No rush

Donnie froze, his fingers twitching slightly as they hovered above his keyboard. She wants to go out on a date? With him? He had a mild panic attack for a moment and read and re-read the message at least ten times.

His cursor hovered over the ‘yes’ box. Come on Donnie, throw caution into the wind for once. When are you going to get another chance like this?

Making his decision finally, he clicked his mouse button.

Yes

You couldn’t hold your excitement as you blew out a breath of relief.

He said yes.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

CH2-12 thoughts (spoilers, I guess. You probably shouldn't be in the tag if you haven't finished the episode though.)

So! DRDT is officially back, and wow what a way to begin the rollercoaster we'll be put through the next few weeks. This episode was amazing, and I wanted to discuss my thoughts on it in a more detailed form. This episode gave us a lot of character moments that I want to at least mention, so let's get into it? Before we do though, I want to say that through these posts, I will be updating two things and showing them at the beginning and end First one being the swear statistics! It became a thing after my previous rewatch that every time a character swears, I count it, and I want to continue doing that for the rest of the series if I can so manage it.

^ current swear statistics as of CH2-11

And the second being...drumroll please!

My own personal DRDT CH2-Part 2 bingo card! If something on this list happens in CH2-Part 2, I'll check it off. Hopefully I can get a bingo or two in here, especially since, spoilers, two of the boxes have already been checked. But with all of that preamble out of the way, let's begin shall we? I’m going to cover the character moments we got in separate categories of the well…characters, rather than in order, for the sake of being concise.

Arturo

First and foremost, “Shut your whore mouth” made me scream at the top of my lungs. God I wish that was voiced. But more importantly, the thing about Arturo being very young for a plastic surgeon actually being addressed was not something I expected, especially so early. But I definitely appreciate the nuggets of Arturo backstory. Funny enough, his situation sounds very similar to Min’s in some regard, especially this line

(x) Arturo: I was only able to get this far in such a short amount of time because I specialized in plastic surgery, and nothing else. I neglected everything that wasn't immediately relevant to my goals.

This absolutely plays a factor into his relationship with his little sister. It more than likely was not just him leaving that made her commit suicide, but perhaps also years of neglect. And if she really felt like she couldn't live a life without Arturo in it, it's safe to say that their parents probably weren't the best either. The more I learn about Arturo and his homelife the more worried I am for him and especially his sister.

Veronika

Veronika didn't get much besides being her usual self, but I gave her a category because I wanted to point out two things One, Veronika calling Arturo cute. That just made me smile

And secondly, this line right here

(x) Veronika: Oh, and don't say something as boring as "I want to kill myself." I have no interest in such mundane reasons.

This is so fucked up and awful and gross and I absolutely love her for it. I just know she's going to get worse, I hope she does.

And also the fact that she apparently finds suicide to be inherently boring is very interesting, given the fact that she more than likely has the self-harm secret.

Whit

I know he didn't have much, if any major role in this episode but...listen I missed him. So much. You have actually zero idea how much I missed him and his goofiness... But also I can't believe that was the explanation for the dent in the computer lab that's been bugging me for months. Well played DT-Dev... (though the fact that Whit got away with breaking a rule solely because MonoTV thought it was funny is a bit fishy...it's almost like he's the MASTERMIND-- /hj)

We also in general got a lot of Charles and Whit moments, which I always like to see I don't think there's anything else to cover when it comes to Wh--

(x) David: Ugh! Goddamn it, Whit, does everything you say have to be made into some shitty dumb joke?! You're actually really fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up!!

...Well, when I said I wanted more Whitvid interactions I guess this can serve as a reward. ...guys dont worry this is how we can still wi--

Levi

...I mean, what else is there to say really?

No but actually I'll talk. This is what we've been theorizing for a year, and I actually had it in my predictions that Levi's secret was going to be the one revealed in this episode. But I did not expect it right at the end, nor did I expect it to be so sudden. And I don't think Levi has any reason to lie either, so I think this is his actual secret. Seeing him lose confidence and apologize for his unhelpfulness kind of stung to me, honestly. Levi has been trying to help the group since the very beginning, and that has only amplified since the start of Chapter 2. So seeing him...basically give up was very upsetting He is definitely going to be in the hot seat next week's episode and I am very excited for it, hopefully we get some insight on his past as well and...maybe a levi and nico interaction? please dt-dev? please? :>

Hu

FishyFried, as always, knocked it out of the fucking park with Hu's voice acting, and her monologue towards David was just as amazing...if not a bit terrifying, as it directly parallels with her hidden quote

I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.

I think I've said this before, but I adore David and Hu's dynamic and how both of them tackle the themes of change in their own ways, how both of them project onto the people around them to fulfill their own desires due to being stagnant in their own growth as people, it's so much fun, and I can't wait to see how this continues to develop in the later chapters I am sincerely a ch5victim!david + ch5killer!hu believer at the end of the day.

Teruko

Oh Teruko, quite a bit to discuss with you today.

For starters, her genuinely feeling embarrassed and upset upon realizing what she did wrong, apologizing for it, and (how I interpreted it anyway) beginning to realize that working alone and not accepting help from others is starting to bite her in the ass? That was not what I expected. I really did think that Teruko was going to get worse before she got better, but maybe she's improving a lot quicker than I thought (...let's hope she doesn't backslide again though, especially if the culprit is who I think it is) Also.

If I have to live with this knowledge, so the-fuck do you. And then there's her argument with David, which I already made a post about, but I want to add onto it by saying that the performances from Swords and LuucarIi here are absolutely phenomenal. One of my favorite voice acted scenes in the entire series. I have replayed Teruko's "Hah! Based on what?!" probably around 20 times and I will repeat it 20 times more because the delivery gives me actual chills. This fangan has such an amazing voice cast oh my god it's insane.

David

Oh. You are such a broken, broken man, and you are absolutely going to go down the Simon Laurent route. I actually don't have a lot to add when it comes to David's actual motivations for his actions, I think a lot of us theorized that he was trying to kill everyone and himself. But the main thing I want to talk about is the Xander shit because oh my god this man is Down Fucking Horrendous. I mentioned all the way back in this post that David idolizes Xander just as much as Xander idolizes him. What I didn't expect was for him to still be clinging onto the hope Xander gave him and trying to follow in his footsteps, and being borderline possessive over the damn dead man. Xander may have idolized David, but David is obsessed with Xander and what he represents to him. And he is willing to ruin his reputation, reliability, and dignity in pursuit of what he thinks is right. Not to mention, it puts the Tally5 image in a whole new light.

Though I still think these words apply to the very possible revolution that David, Xander, and Mai enacted towards Hope's Peak, a theory that has become even more credible after this episode, I also think these lines portray David's thought process during his actions in CH2-11 and his motivation for doing the things that he does. David calling Xander "the only good person he's ever known" is very, very telling when you consider what he personally thinks makes someone a bad person (lazy, useless, stupid). And that makes me upset. Xander and David's relationship will never not be absolutely fascinating to me. ...alSO DAVID APPARENTLY HAS MEMORIES FROM HOPE'S PEAK??? APPARENTLY??? Like am I reading that right or do I just have bad media literacy. How...How does he??? WHY does he??? Why did he say he didn't know who Xander was in the prologue???? I am very confused and I'm sure it will all be answered. Extra Thoughts !! - we got 7:30 AM confirmation, woohoo!! And the bonus of Arei swinging when she was first found was such a good detail and I’m surprised none of us noticed it, honestly. With that confirmation, that leaves basically everyone else (minus J, David, Veronika, Hu, and Nico) in the hot-seat. - the multitude of new sprites we got were so amazing, especially David's - Apparently everything that happened in the second half of CH2-11 was in the span of two hours?! Sheesh, the editing crew on the TV show must be working overtime. Hopefully they get a paycheck and its not just MonoTV who gets paid. - If I had any doubt in my brain that Eden was the culprit it has basically dissipated with this episode. I really do not know who else it could be other than her. three of the five main suspects other than her have basically been cleared up, either through alibi (J and Hu) or though plot (Levi) David and Nico are also cleared from suspicion Though there isn't really any plot or evidence reason to necessarily exclude Rose, given her moment in CH2-8 and, let's be honest, this murder being way too physically complicated for someone as lethargic as her to commit, I'm inclined to believe she is not And every other character has something that's clearly being set up to be further explored in Chapter 3 (Charles, Whit, Ace, Arturo, and Veronika) Like... even if you don't think Eden is the culprit, you can't deny that she's the odd one out here. I still think Accomplice!Levi is true, but I also truthfully think the culprit can't be anyone other than Eden - If I were to give one I-guess critique though, not just on this episode but on the trial as a whole, it's that we are four trial episodes in and there has been very, very little focus on the actual murder mystery itself. We have barely even covered 80% of the evidence. This isn't like, a huge problem for me specifically because I very much watch DRDT for the astounding character writing over the murder mysteries, and I definitely think that the lack of focus on the case is worth the amazing character moments we got in this episode. But I can see it really bothering some people, and there's a part of me that can't help but be a bit afraid that the actual solving of the murder case is going to hit the audience with a bunch of information at once and come across as a bit rushed due to the lack of focus it's had so far. I trust that DT-Dev is cooking though, and it'll probably be a lot more cohesive once we have the full trial to look through.

Predictions for CH2-13 - Like I said before, Levi is going to become the main suspect easily thanks to his secret reveal. I know Ace is going to be on his ass especially, because in his mind it would basically confirm the image he has already conjured up of Levi in his mind as a violent brute who is going to snap his neck any second. J is also going to jump to conclusions because that's just what she does, and she was already concerned about the murderer secret to begin with. - Furthermore, I think most of this episode is going to entail Teruko trying to disprove that Levi could've been the culprit. Considering the fact that there, well, isn't much evidence to suggest he didn't, maybe this episode will feature this chapter's Random Guess minigame. - I highly doubt we're getting an AM VS PM scrum debate now, but maybe we'll get one on whether or not Levi is the culprit? Maybe? - On the topic of trial minigames, I hope we get another nonstop debate, it's been like three episodes since we've had one lmao - Nico is either going to defend Levi, or reiterate the speech that J gave them in CH2-9. Either way, I hope this reveal causes them to interact it would be so interesting - We are on a track-record of having at least one person's secret exposed every trial episode. Considering the fact that Xander and Min are dead, and I do not think Teruko's secret will come out until the end of the chapter, that really only leaves Hu and Veronika...which is interesting, as they are both in the clear for being the culprit. Hu has already had multiple moments to shine in this trial, so I think its more likely that Veronika's secret will be the one getting revealed. How that happens, I am unsure. But I think Veronika will be the next person to have her secret revealed.

Conclusion Overall, I think this episode was amazing and a great way to kick off the end of the hiatus. I can already tell that these next few weeks are going to be a wild ride for us DRDT fans, but we're all in this together, so I think everything's going to be fine (nothing is going to be fine.)

UPDATED SWEAR STATISTICS: CH2-12

UPDATED BINGO CARD

[fogdraws]

A Softening of The Brain

A Sherlock Holmes fanfiction based in "The Valley of Fear"

“John.” The sound of my first name stopped me on my tracks; Holmes never used it, as did the costume go. “Would you be afraid,” he whispered, “to sleep in the same bed of a lunatic, a man with a softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?” This could have so many implications, so many ways to interpret it, but no matter what sense I made of it, there was only one answer. “Not in the least,” I said with some difficulty, regaining the breath I had lost before. “Sherlock, I'd never leave you.” That, I turned to regret just after it came out of my lips — too revealing. Or... what if that scene from the canon had another meaning? One that's more... romantic.

Or... Read it down here! vvvv

It were odd times, the days I'd passed at Birlstone, investigating the murdering of Mr. Douglas. Odd would not suffice; I had witnessed some things that I would really rather not.

Now the moon was high and I laid down in a double-bed — the best we could find in this small thing they call town — with a book resting on my lap, its words stubborn to be read. My mind, nevertheless, was still racing, taking every chance to turn to Holmes’ being: what would the man be doing right now?

It is of Holmes' doing, this disappear-first-explain-after situation that keeps doing numbers to my heart, as much as it is of my doing to let myself worry about him. How could I be tranquil when I don't know of his well-being?

The detective had gone out after saying something very sparse about the case — mysterious and dramatic, just like always. Maybe he'd come back today, maybe tomorrow, maybe a week from now. No one knows; sometimes I think that neither does he.

I had just put the book onto the bedside table when I heard Holmes’ shoes hit the ground: slow and light, much like he does when he knows I’m supposed to be asleep. Of course, he knows I’m not. He knows pretty much everything — lying is not an option really, but you can make do with omitting half of the facts and hoping he’ll buy it.

Accepting the false as truth for your own self, sometimes, serves as a better lie than conjuring anything new. Protecting it, controlling yourself where you can, and letting yourself when it’s convenient to do so. That, I should say, I have acquired quite the ability to do since I’ve come to live with Holmes.

The old door clicks open and Holmes’ face pops out of the slit of light that comes out of it. His thin aquiline nose is beautifully contoured by the dim illumination, making his face look absolutely otherworldly against the brute finishing of the inn’s walls; I ended up staring for more than would be adequate. The world was still hazy from my tiredness, and the words, hard on my tongue.

“Hey, Holmes”, I started, “have you found anything out yet?” His tall, lean figure turned away for a second, sending my mind into a rush, longing for his gaze: I hadn’t seen him enough, observed him enough. The excuse I created then was that I worried only for his well-being, that I’d felt the need to look over for any wounds as is the first instinct of a proper doctor. That would be set to be a doubtful truth for me and for the world.

My eyes are startled as a dim candle is lighted by those delicate, though strong, fingers of Holmes’, sending me flinching slightly, the sleep still washing out my mind and senses. All of the sudden, he is coming closer to me; I sit up.

Now, I’m wide awake — his head is so close to mine that I can feel his controlled breathing. Holmes certainly doesn’t feel mine, for it had stopped completely at some unknown point, out of some feeling I couldn’t acknowledge without it becoming too evident.

I take in his face, his smell, his heat: no one would look at him from a distance and think Holmes a man of such comforting ways. As little as his sole presence was enough so that you could relax and feel like yourself again. This man really is majestic.

“John.” The sound of my first name stopped me on my tracks; Holmes never used it, as did the costume go. “Would you be afraid,” he whispered, “to sleep in the same bed of a lunatic, a man with a softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?”

This could have so many implications, so many ways to interpret it, but no matter what sense I made of it, there was only one answer. “Not in the least,” I said with some difficulty, regaining the breath I had lost before. “Sherlock, I'd never leave you.” That, I turned to regret just after it came out of my lips — too revealing.

“Ah, that's lucky,” was the last thing any one of us uttered that night. Maybe both of us were afraid of what could come out of further conversation. I, certainly, was.

In the most absolute silence — Holmes had this kind of disturbing ability to do little to no noise — and in almost pure darkness, he started undressing himself slowly, until only the boxers remained. This inn of ours, see, had the worst bathrooms any of us had ever seen (and that says a lot, considering that we both had our fair share of doubtful stayings), which made changing inside them virtually impossible.

That meant we had to change in the room, something that wasn’t really a problem before, since we made the effort to be alone while doing so. But now, I deduced, it was too late at night. And we were tired. And we weren’t seeing much because of the darkness. And we were friends, for god’s sake! Two men, just that. Partners, only at work.

A nightgown was put over his long body. I turned my face towards the wall: allowing myself to such temptation was not an option. To Holmes, probably, this was an act done with no ulterior motives, but to me, oh, to me, it was torture! A display of everything I could never dream to have, right in front of my nose. Sherlock seemed embarrassed too; the whole ordeal was done quickly, and I am grateful, for if it was to go on for longer still, I would bear it no more.

The bed was a double one, but still rather small. I’d suggested that I sleep on the floor, but Holmes refused, claiming that the hard floor would cause my shoulder to hurt. Then, he said he’d do it instead, but I also didn’t let him. We had stared at each other for some seconds, before going back to whatever we had been doing before; the decision was made, and there was little to do but accept it.

The candle was unlit: we were now in complete darkness.

A newly-familiar weight settled just beside me on the bed, moving the covers until they covered us nicely. The atmosphere was cold, but in this old small place — full of cracks and pests and whatnot, the air dusty with misuse — I felt more than sufficiently warm. Comfortable. Cosy. Holmes' knees gently touched my sides, and somehow his hand ended up close to my arm, knuckles barely touching my bare skin; I dared not to move.

When I woke up, Holmes was closer, much like we gravitated towards each other during the night: just enough that I could feel his breath on my shoulder, his hand laying limp on my chest and moving with the rise and fall of it. It was impossible to say which one of us did it. Maybe both.

Laying very still, should I wake him up, I admired the mess of strands that was Holmes' hair. Dark and flowy, they framed his face nicely as if each one of them were just meant to be there.

I dared to push a loc off of his eyes. At that, they opened, causing me great panic — which I would not dare to show — grey irises barely visible before closing again in a lazy motion. Holmes' slumber is light, I should've remembered. The palm of his hand stiffened and was swiftly removed from where it laid.

Minutes later, the detective jumped off the bed and went on to his day, like nothing ever happened this last night. I accompanied him, as I always do, and it was a great day with great discoveries, as it always is with him. But I would not let it be.

I got in the room first; Holmes had gone on another errand I'd never hear the resolution. Sat upon the bedsheets, I awaited his presence in uncontained anxiety, mind trying to make sense of what I had heard yesterday. What had he meant with it? My thoughts kept turning to improbable possibilities, which I quickly shut down, only for them to arise, once again, minutes later — things that were but figments of my fierce imagination. Images of bare shoulders, parted lips and thin hands aroused my mindscape at every opportunity; this man, Holmes, tested all and every one of my limits without even knowing he was doing so.

After what seemed an eternity, Holmes' figure entered the room with an unprecedented heaviness. Living with the detective had its advantages: since staying at Baker Street, I had become more observant, and did as much as picking up some skills from him. As my heart raced, I looked up and saw his face go through a plethora of emotions when spotting me, like his did the very same. “Are we not discussing what you said yesterday? At night.” I said, words hard to find in an aching throat.

Holmes gave a violent start. “I did not mean anything by it, for I didn't think before talking.” The detective finished his point with the clink of metal on wood, putting down the candle he held with force. It almost went out. “It's best you forget it ever happened, Watson.”

“No, we are not letting this pass. Holmes, hear me. No one says something like this with no end in mind. You must be aware I'm here for you. Always. Forever.”

“Do not press your head to this matter, Watson. It isn't worth your time.”

“Was it about the way I write your character in The Strand? I do not think you of any bad. I am not leaving you, no matter which kind of insane you must think you are. What would be so dire that it’d make me flee?”

“Please, John.”

“It's only for the public! You know that. You've said it yourself: I romanticise everything, see facts that aren't there; make up thoughts I didn’t have. Omit the ones I have, even!”

There was a pause; silence. Silence, only in words, for his mind seemed ever so active, and he made it as to go away, exit the room more than once, never going through the action of fully turning around. Holmes’ lips parted a few times before he was able to direct his speech at me again.

“It's not that, Watson.” A pause. “It is that I am no normal person. Should anyone see me as myself, I would be promptly dead, and my reputation, ruined. You needn't have any more preoccupation than what you already have with this case.” At that, Holmes turned his head around to face anything but me.

“Then I don't know what to think anymore. Is this what you want of me? Confusion?” My voice cracked in distress. I didn't notice when I had gotten up, nor when I’d placed myself so close to Holmes’ figure. The candle flickered, encasing him in periods of light and shadow; but never taking away those eyes, that mouth, that nose, all features as though they were sculpted by the most skillful of artists.

“No! It is, John, that you matter so much to me, that you make me sick of the heart, of the brain and of the body.” That forced a breath out of my ribcage; my mind raced with no ending line.

“I… what?”

Holmes seemed physically struck with the realisation of what he had really professed, the gravity of his words. For a man whose whole ordeal was calculating the possibilities — the words — before doing — saying — anything, he sure did look surprised by his own self, eyes darting all over me in a panicked frenzy: deducing what I would say or do next. Holmes had told me, before, that I was one of the few people he couldn’t read all that easily. That made me interesting, according to him.

What I would say next was, indeed, a good question. I, myself, had no idea what to think. Blood pumped through my veins quickly, and I felt hot all over — had Holmes meant what I thought he did? I took one, two steps closer to Holmes' figure; our hands brushed slightly, sending chills down my spine. “Sherlock.”

Holmes backed away slightly from me. “This is wrong,” he warned in a sorrowful tone, much like he mourned something that could never be his. Something I also did for the longest while, since meeting the detective; discovering we both felt the same agony, over the same problem, was positively soothing.

I glanced at Holmes lips — thin, but almost welcoming, as if they were meant to meet mine. “I know.”

“You're staying?”

I placed both hands on Holmes’ clothed chest; it rose and fell erratically, almost in synchrony with the beating of the heart that lay inside it. Mine must’ve been doing the same.

“Only if you want me to.”

Holmes’ lithe hands moved to cover my own, holding them tight. We were close, closer than we had ever been, as the detective inched forward and did what I had yearned for so long: our lips met and gave way to a chaste kiss, leaving me breathless and desperate for more.

“Oh, I surely do,” Holmes answered before pressing his lips against me again, this time more passionate. I let mine part, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and kissed back. It was better than anything I could ever imagine, heat surging deep in my body as we moved in unison.

That night, we went to bed early, but not to sleep.

[sweeetrandall]

Im gonna talk about personalities (and autism) in professor layton for a second, especially in miracle mask.

it is very tragic that layton isn’t even really his own person. Like he was struck with death during a time he was still struggling to form his own identity. He really was sort of just following Randall around and letting him take him by the hand and thrust him into anything. This is a relationship I found myself in again and again growing up, getting “adopted” by an extroverted kid and then getting all my social connections through them.

This kind of relationship makes it easy to lose your own personhood as it takes away nearly all your agency in terms of your social life. You begin surrounding yourself with people and personalities that match whoever adopted you rather than your own tastes, and you begin conforming in order to survive more or less.

This sounds pretty tragic, and in some ways it is, but it’s a lot better (and easier) than being alone, which often happens if you don’t get “taken in”.

I think Randall was an overall good influence on Hershel and positive presence in his life. It just happens that Hershel himself seems to have been especially prone to this sort of thing, to the point such a lack of personal identity (or, at least, instability in finding it) caused him to completely adopt Randall’s passions and interests out of sheer guilt, almost as if he owed him a debt. After all, it’s easy to feel indebted to the person who goes out of their way to talk to the “autistic kid” …. Part of this could easily be because Hershel had already begun integrating Randall’s interests into himself (likely subconsciously as part of this survival mechanism) and being suddenly ripped away from this it was pushed to an extreme as a way of filling that void.

Hersh also shows signs of generally not thinking much of himself. Being a more secluded kid makes it easy to develop this kind of self image…and also why having a friend who constantly encourages you like Randall is so intoxicating.

We see Hershel time and time again say how he isn’t that interested in archaeology or puzzles, nor is he confident in his ability to do either - to the point he actively expects himself to get incorrect answers, as his puzzle solve animation shows a brace for a huge “INCORRECT” sign only to be surprised he found a solution.

Meanwhile, Randall is the face of confidence.

I don’t need to point out how next time we see Hershel, he has faith in his own puzzle solving abilities - “My intuition should serve me well”, even taking from Randall’s personal lexacon, “Critical thinking is the key to success.”

I won’t ignore the grief and guilt, as the role it plays is obvious. I only want to point out how instead of being the source itself of Hershel’s radical adoption of Randall’s personality, I read it more as an extreme driver of an already existing tendency to mimic those around him as a sort of survival mechanism. In times of crisis these mechanisms are put into overdrive.

(As others have pointed out, this also happens with Claire and the gentleman persona she encouraged him into, but that’s another subject.)

I also want to examine this in Randall himself, since we see a pretty interesting inversion of Hershel’s situation on his part.

The risk-taking, erratic behavior we see in Randall is something I’m pretty sure stems from his hatred for his father and the general life he is made to live. A stuffy mansion doesn’t suit him, if his kind of goofy outfit has anything to say about it. He stands in stark contrast to the other rich Stansbury kid, Dalston, who is altogether enthusiastic about business and wealth.

Where I think this gets especially interesting is when Randall falls into Akbadain. Having experienced a “reset”, he quickly adapts to his new life. He isn’t an entirely different person - he still has proficiency in puzzles as Firth/Tannenbaum tells us.

And if his reaction to Descole’s letter was anything to go by, he’s still as impulsive and emotionally driven as ever.

What we get to see from his time in Craggy Dale is a Randall relieved of his old life - no smothering father, no family fortune, no mansion. In fact, we get a life that is essentially a polar opposite, complete with a loving adoptive father and slow-paced life that “tames the wildest of hearts”. Being allowed to breathe and live slowly creates a Randall who, while still brainy and enthusiastic, is radically different from the Randall Hershel, Henry, and Angela knew.

This is why the ending of Miracle Mask sort of bothers me, as I fully believe Randall would not want to pick up where he left of when he was 17. He literally got himself “killed” living that life, likely pushed and simultaneously blinded by the pressure from his family, which mixed horribly with his own impulsivity and need for freedom. I would imagine growing up in a mansion causes you to develop a less than realistic view of life and your own abilities.

This is where Hersh comes back in, as it’s pretty serendipitous in my eyes that the person he “absorbed” the personality of happened to move on from that personality in a pretty dramatic way. This way there isn’t any sort of doppelganger tension. Ultimately, Randall did want Hershel to develop an interest in archaeology and puzzles, and it seems he’s satisfied with that.

(also I think it’s a little bit creepy that they had Randall adopt the same haircut and glasses he had when he was 17 with a “now you’re back to normal” attitude, going off what I just discussed, but I digress)

Essentially, it’s crystal clear to me how Hershel developed his personality considering his upbringing eerily reflecting the way I survived as an autistic kid, and the fact much of Randall’s personality/life direction was derived from the circumstances of the life he later shed makes it kind of poetic. At the end of it all I think they have a lot to learn from each other just as they did when they were teens, especially from the experience they gained since then.

[nvuy]

HII i'm the anon from before who asked for writing advice !! thank you so much for answering omg (≧▽≦)

i'm not gonna start the tumblr blog idea 'til i actually feel confident in my writing (and already have a few things i can post), which i don't at the moment!

i really wanna write self-indulgent fics and if someone happens to relate then that's great!! thing is, my writing feels bland at the moment and rarely do i have any ideas to actually make into a fic (unlike right now. my brain's flooded with ideas all of a sudden..)

point is! i wanna give my writing a sort of descriptive/poetic feel and i know for sure a wide vocabulary isn't enough, even though it *is* a huge part of the style,, if that makes sense. how should i go about this? so sorry if i'm bothering u with all these writing questions!!!

enjoy the rest of your week nd stay cool <33

ur not bothering me at all, lovely. dont worry about it. i think i am the queen of self indulgent fics so there’s nothing to stress abt and i enjoy explaining how my stupid brain works.

description ;

a wide range of vocabulary isn’t necessary. it helps to know some special words and you’re welcome to incorporate them, but some of the best poetry ive read comes from its simplicity. a lot of people dont really want to read constant droning description; as much as i enjoy writing it myself, i hate authors like charles dickens with a passion. you can tell when a writer was being paid per word rather than how many times the book sells. and fuck his stupid ass christmas book.

a tip i can give you is to do what i do, which is to hand pick words depending on the scene.

i’ll use an example because i know that made zero sense: picture a very basic fairycore forest with pink plants and fireflies. this setting, from the description alone, should explain that this forest is a nice and small tucked away and pretty place. we add a stream that runs along the treeline. let’s describe the stream specifically. which sentence sounds better to you?

The white waters that part the soil flow down the centre of the earth, and divide the trees in two.

The clear waters that part the dirt splash down the middle of the path, and section the forest in two.

now, im hoping to the gods that you think the first one is better. the sentences are exactly the same in terms of definition, and the description depicts the same thing, but its the words used that make the first sentence softer, and therefore the setting seems a lot more peaceful by default.

if you use words with harder and rougher consonants throughout—i’m not telling you to avoid them—will make the sentence sound rougher, at least to me. harder sounds like ‘t’ and ‘k,’ as an example. words like ‘white’ i think, despite the hard ending, are still particularly softer, because the ‘wh’ sound at the beginning serves almost as a counterbalance. it’s why the word ‘clear’ sounds rougher; because it starts with a harder sound despite its softer ending.

it has nothing to do with magical sixteen letter words that nobody understands. learning new big words is cool and you’re welcome to use them, but if i see you writing: And the river is so beautiful, so stupendous, so marvelous, so loquacious… i will kill you with my bare hands.

something i also avoid is repeating the same words over and over again. using the stream as an example still, if you’re going to refer to it again and again, dont just use the word ‘stream.’ you sound like a parrot. change it up. look up synonyms if you’re not sure, or simply describe it also as ‘the water.’ the thesaurus is your best friend.

sometimes you can repeat words to emphasise them, or the passing of times. you can do this, but make sure it appears deliberate.

example:

even in confiteor when i was forced to write the word ‘cock’ 5600 times, i broke it up. frankly because i dont really know what other word to use that doesn’t sound awkward or cringe, so in between verses, i tossed in exposition, internal musings, thoughts and feelings, etc, to change up the repeated use of the word.

i Hope… that made sense . .

dropping cliches ;

cliches are inherently bad things, but there’s a lot of things you can do to differentiate stereotypical phrases and such from the norm.

for example: a confession “i love you.”

BORINGGGGG. put it in the bin (im kidding but you can make it more interesting or heartfelt).

observe the typical: “im in love with you.”

now, in my opinion, it’s better than the former. it sounds more sincere. ‘i love you’ on its own could refer to many different types of love, but “im in love with you” is romance.

scrap the obvious and toss out the word ‘love:’ “i’ll never grow tired of your voice.”

now obviously poetic prose wont always work depending on the character doing the confessing. i could imagine someone like argenti prattling and waxing poetry for nine hours.

someone like boothill, however, in all of his inelegance, you can have more fun with.

observe again: “i trust you.”

“but wait nvuy that’s not a love confession.” it’s called subtly. and, if you’ve written it correctly, i shouldnt have to hear a ‘i love you’ to understand that the two people you’re writing about are in love. i should be able to understand that through interactions and exchanges beyond that. i based old habits around that; you didnt have to see the mc and scaramouche smooch to know that they were in love.

there’s so many ways to explain the feelings of romance without saying “[X] was in love with [Y].” UNLESS you use it for a comedic and abrupt effect that the character themselves is feeling, and not so much you as the narrator telling your audience that the character is in love.

the romance you write can be slow and gentle or quick or hostile or muddied or confusing. make it so through words and actions. it’s all in the ‘show don’t tell.’

so if you want to combine my tips you can write your own gooey gross romantic self indulgent fics just like me and then force feed them to your friends YIPPEEEEEE

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Kidnapping Mishap

(It is very late as I’m posting this, so apologies for any spelling or continuity mistakes.I don’t really have additional comments to go with this one, lmao. Hope y’all enjoy the read.)

Word count: 13671

TW/CW: Accidental, soft, safe M/nb G/t  vore; implied fear of digestion, worry of death, mention/brief description of vomiting

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nova, March, be ready to make an escape,” Dan Heng advised, making me glance over towards him. His eyes were a bit narrowed in thought, even as he kept his gaze towards March.

“Huh? Really?” March asked, sounding a bit surprised and kind of disappointed as she looked back toward Dan Heng. “I just wanted to say something…”

“You sounded pretty convincing,” I told March, thinking of the sealed off alleyway myself. Given our meager options, it sounded pretty much like our best option to get away from being arrested. 

“Three of a kind,” Dan Heng murmured to my left, catching me off guard from our situation of, well, being surrounded by guards.

“Huh?” I blinked in confusion, looking over at him at the quiet statement. Didn't he just say to get ready for an escape and now he's saying fucking card terms?! My fingers itched to manifest my bat in trigger-happy self-defense and it was taking all of my focus just to not be too twitchy and start a fight prematurely.

“Shhh,” March shushed me, only adding to my confusion. “It's an old Astral Express escape signal. Do you play cards?”

“I don't think I need to play cards to be told that there's a fucking escape signal,” I hissed back quietly as Dan Heng murmured “Two pair.” in the background. So it was some sort of countdown. “I feel like that should be shared BEFORE getting in an escape situation! Maybe a pre-mission brief with the newcomer next time!”

“Hey,” one of the guards snapped, taking a step forward. “What are you whispering? Let’s get going!”

“Ace!” Dan Heng shouted loudly, enough that there was no mistaking it as anything other than the word to act on.

Like a trigger pistol being shot, my body reacted instinctively to the exclamation, fingers twitching open as I manifested my baseball bat to close around the grip. I swung behind me and whacked one of the soldiers across the cheek, knocking them to the ground and causing the others nearby to recoil away. I heard a noise behind me and turned around to see Dan Heng knocking almost everyone else within arms reach down by swinging his staff at their legs.

“Nice,” I said, following after March as she led the retreat down the street. I heard more footsteps behind us and glanced back to see Dan Heng. And the guards were raising their guns to aim towards us. 

Yeah, I think guns definitely won in the whole weapons Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Thankfully, I could just barely see the glimmer of something crystalline growing on their guns in the distance, feeling relief flood through me as March called back behind us, “Have an ice day!”

Looking forward with a slightly deadpan expression at March’s back from the pun, I followed as she ran through the Fragmentum portal, grimacing at the weird feeling of charging inside right behind her. An almost nauseous feeling sat at the pit of my stomach, but spacial travel was something I was starting to get used to with the Space Anchors that the Nameless have put around in a bunch of places to make some travel easier. 

Thankfully, despite the still present fear of just being torn apart by the molecules, we ended up safely on the other side in an abandoned alleyway. An alleyway in the Fragmentum, but I’d take what I could get given the current circumstances of running from the planet’s law.

“Hah! See, they weren’t brave enough to follow us! Freedom,” March exclaimed triumphantly, looking back at Dan Heng and I with her hands on her hips and a wide smile on her face. “Serves them right! Better luck next time, slowpokes!”

“I feel like we got lucky,” I said, shuddering to get rid of the lingering feeling of spacial travel. There was a lingering tingle at my fingertips that had me opening and closing my hands a bit.

“Well, you can get good at getting lucky,” March replied nonchalantly, looking proud of herself.

“We caught them by surprise, nothing more,” Dan Heng retorted bluntly, dissipating his spear and crossing his arms over his chest. “They’ll be in pursuit soon enough. We need to guarantee our own safety before making any further plans.”

I nodded in acknowledgement as March said “Right.” and turned to walk further into the alleyway. I trailed just behind Dan Heng and March, more or less along for the ride and just needing to trust that they knew kind of what they were doing. Well, Dan Heng mostly. I felt like March was just laissez faire and somehow squeaking by. Which was fine by me, as long as we got out of this scenario.

“So what do you guys think happened back there,” March asked as we walked, likely to pass the time. I was fine with that considering I was already starting to feel antsy without any conversation. She glanced between Dan Heng and I. “Why did the supreme guardian send people to arrest us?”

“I don’t really think that we can guess based on our single interaction with her,” I replied, absentmindedly twirling the baseball bat clumsily in my hands. I yelped as I almost dropped it, a tiny pulse going through me as I instinctively dispelled the bat before it could hit the ground and re-materialized it back in my hands. I knew I should be more conservative with my energy, but the move had been automatic. “Maybe she felt threatened by outsiders just showing up.”

“Yeah, but imagine launching a surprise attack when your enemy is fast asleep.” March sounded irritated at the supreme guardian’s change in demeanor, huffing, “The cheek!”

“That woman had a troubling aura…” Dan Heng mused, thinking about something. Per usual, it was hard for me to even try to decipher what he was potentially thinking when I tried to glance over at his stoic expression. “Our instincts were correct.”

“Speak for yourself,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck as I stretched a bit. “I was more focused on the weird feeling of deja vu I was getting.”

It was true. Ever since coming here there’s just been a few instances of very vivid deja vu that have left me lightheaded and almost nauseous, particularly in regards to Cocolia. Something about her made me feel like I knew everything and nothing about her.

“Wait!” March hissed under her breath, surprising me as she swung her arm out to stop me from moving forward. Out of curiosity I glanced in the direction that she was focused on, seeing familiar attire down the path to the left fork of the intersection we reached, through the bars of a semi-open gate. “There are Silvermane Guards here. Careful not to alert them!”

“They must have entered from another direction to cut us off.” I could feel Dan Heng lean a bit over me to get a better look down the alley. Thankfully he didn’t linger long, pulling away and adding, “We should avoid an open conflict. Let's find another path.”

“I mean, there’s only the gate on the other side,” I gestured to the other fork as I walked towards it. There was a gate that was supposedly blocking the way through, but it didn’t make sense for monsters to lock gates. Fragmentum creatures probably didn’t really care about privacy. “May as well see if it’s open.”

Unfortunately, it made me feel a little dumb in front of the others when I tried to open it and found that it was, indeed, locked. I was trying not to be loud about shaking the metal to try and avoid alerting the guards nearby but I was easily growing frustrated after a few unsuccessful seconds.

“Doesn't seem like there's any way to open this gate…” March said quietly, looking over the length of the gate.

“You think?” I hissed back, wincing when I shook the gate too much and it rattled a little louder than I meant it to. Freezing, I waited a couple seconds before messing with it more to make sure the Silvermane Guards hadn’t heard, not hearing any voices or footsteps from the other side of the intersection.

March was unperturbed by my irritated reply, finding particular interest in a nearby object in front of the gate. After a second of staring at it her eyes lit up with recognition, touching my elbow to make sure she had my attention and pointing at it. “Ooh, check this mechanism out. Look familiar?”

Pulling away from the gate I let myself be led to the front of the object and tilted my head while looking at it. 

Gears clicked in my head as Dan Heng quietly spoke up. “Yes, we saw one in Serval's workshop. We need to solve it before we run out of time. The Guards are right on our heels.”

“I think I remember how to work these,” I said, looking at the switch. I felt around for the latch to get inside to the wiring, humming in thought for a couple seconds. Reaching in, I started twisting gears and circuits. It took me a couple tries but the switch’s light quickly turned off with an audible clunk coming from the gate as it opened. Pleased with myself since it had more or less been trial and error, I pulled away from the switch. “There we go!”

“Let’s go then.” Dan Heng said, not hesitating to lead the way through the now opened gate. March and I didn’t hesitate to follow along.

There were a few Fragmentum monsters littered around the alleyways as we traversed deeper, most we tried to avoid fighting so that the Silvermane Guards wouldn’t hear our exact location. When it came to trying to open other gates, however, the monsters were too close to not get their attention to reach the switches in question and we had to attack them. Dan Heng managed to take out the monster at the first gate quietly, but March and I struggled to ambush the one by the second gate.

“Shut the fuck up,” I hissed to the Fragmentum monster as I cracked it across the skull when it let out a startled screech, causing it to shatter and the rest of the body crumpled to the ground. I huffed a bit in irritation and rubbed the back of my neck nervously, walking over to the switch and messing with its circuitry as well. “Ugh, hope the guards didn’t hear that.”

“Even if they did, we’ve passed by so many monsters that they’ll have a hard time reaching us at this point,” March lowered her bow to her side with a smile. Ever the optimist. Still, it helped me not focus on the negatives.

“Fair point.”

I followed after the other two through more of the cobblestone labyrinth as we continued to search for an exit from the Fragmentum, eventually spotting it up ahead after turning around another bend towards what looked like a courtyard.

“There!” Dan Heng said, and all of us kicked up into a sprint now that we were so close to the exit. We were only halfway to the Fragmentum portal when he suddenly shouted, “Look out!”

My heels dug into the ground automatically, able to hear March and Dan Heng’s footsteps also skid beside me. Several gunshots rang out, striking the ground in front of us to kick up sparks and slight debris. I looked up with a scowl to see Silvermane Guards lining the walls on either side of us with their rifles at the ready.

“She really caught up with us…” March said, all of us looking towards the Fragmentum exit as more guards ran in from either side to block our path to it. “Even had time to set up an ambush…”

“Hmph, you dare underestimate me?” Bronya’s voice came from behind us and I looked back to see her approach with several other guards. She somehow straightened even more than she already had been, chest puffing out a little proudly as she declared, “Even though it has suffered Fragmentum corrosion, this is still part of Belobog. It was our home. The Guards know this place like the back of their hand. Enough cat and mouse. Drop your weapons and come with me.”

“Ugh, you're such a nuisance.” March put her free hand on her hip, demanding, “Just what crime are we supposed to have committed again? It better be worth you following us all the way out here!”

“My orders are to arrest you,” Bronya replied, looking at us with disdain. “It is for the adjudication panel to present you with the nature and penalty of your alleged crimes.”

“That didn’t answer the question,” I snapped. When she looked from March to me I couldn’t help but tighten my grip on the bat in my hands, daring her to do something. 

“You saw us yesterday, do you remember?” Dan Heng asked, tone far more level than mine or March’s as he tried to deescalate the situation while March and I kind of were making it worse. “Madam Cocolia received us as honored guests. How can such a drastic change have occurred in the course of one night?”

Bronya’s stoic and proud expression faltered for a moment, enough to make me think that maybe we could actually talk this out. But, her eyes regained a steel of resolve, firmly replying, “...The Madam Guardian investigated your backgrounds. She summoned me last night to tell me that you had deceived her. Your identities and purpose here are counterfeit. You seek to overthrow the rule of the Architects.”

“Ah!” March stomped her foot angrily on the cobblestone beneath our feet, something that actually surprised me as I looked over to her. This was probably the most pissed off I’d seen her so far. “What a two-faced hag!”

“Publicly insulting the supreme guardian only elevates the seriousness of your crimes,” Bronya declared, pointing towards us. “Throw down your arms and surrender!”

“Are you fucking serious?” I asked in regards to just insulting the supreme guardian being considered serious. I wondered how much trouble I’d be in if I tried to smack her in the teeth then.

“We're wasting our words,” Dan Heng said seriously. His gaze looked at March and I, the gray intense with his own resolve. “At least one thing is clear: We mustn't be caught.”

I wasn’t sure what would happen if we did end up getting caught, but Dan Heng was a hell of a lot more observant and smarter than I was. It didn’t take a genius to guess that Cocolia didn’t have good intentions but I nodded back at him in acknowledgement, tightening my grip on the baseball bat.

“Well, if there's no escape, then maybe it's time we gave them a taste of Astral Express medicine!” March exclaimed, raising her bow and firing a shot off towards one of the guards on the wall. The guard was knocked down and, as the rest began to raise their rifles, ice began to crystalize on the barrels once more.

This allowed Dan Heng and I the ability to start knocking down the nearest guards that surrounded us while March started picking off the ones from the wall, not needing to worry about getting picked off ourselves with rifle bullets.

Once the ones on the wall were dispatched or had retreated out of view, I noticed frosted arrows flying around eye level to strike some of the guards on the ground with us. One struck a guard running towards her and I looked away as crystalline ice began to form on his armor to turn to my next target.

I ended up only knocking down one other guard before I heard Dan Heng shout behind me, “Duck!”

I whirled around on instinct of course, unsure if he was talking to me or March, seeing him absolutely beam a soldier with his staff and send them flying towards Bronya. Unfortunately, the soldier was only a couple inches from hopefully knocking her down. 

“Lady Bronya,” the soldier grunted after he was saved from smacking the back of his helmet on the ground by one of her gloved hands catching his arm. Bronya waved her hand at him dismissively, something that made me tense slightly as he started to back away.

“Uh, guys?” I called out to the others to catch their attention as Bronya started to reach for her sheathed gun, eyes widening at seeing the double-bladed end of the bayonet.

“I’ll handle these evildoers myself!” Bronya shouted, firing off a shot towards March before I could react. 

The bullet pinged off of the metal of Dan Heng’s spear as he lunged into the fray, filling me with relief. The way his eyes narrowed at Bronya made it very obvious that he was now pissed off, having no difficulty reading his expression like I usually did. He rushed forward towards her and swerved around a bullet that was fired off in his direction.

I quickly darted forward myself, narrowly avoiding an axe to the face as something within me sensed an incoming attack. I whirled around to see another Silvermane Guard just behind me, throwing up my bat to block another attempt to cleave at me.

“She said she can handle us herself.” I snarled at the guard, struggling to keep his weight from letting the axe follow through. I wasn’t very strong, hence why I tried to just run in and out of combat. “And aren’t we supposed to be taken in alive?”

“Resisting arrest for treasonous crimes is an offense punishable by death,” the guard snapped back, my arms shaking as he continued pressing down on the baseball bat. 

I grit my teeth in exertion, glancing over to where the others were fighting. Dan Heng continued his assault on Bronya, his speartip meeting her bayonet blade more than once as the two fought. Thankfully, I saw some ice blocking the rifle barrel but March was dealing with a few Silvermane Guards of her own. She was more used to ranged attacks, struggling to stay far enough away from the guards chasing her to retaliate properly.

Glancing back to the guard I was dealing with, my mind raced as I looked for ways out of being chopped up. As soon as a thought popped into my head, I acted on it. 

I stopped resisting and dropped to the ground in a dead weight, hearing the clatter of metal on stone as I rolled to the side and pulled my bat with me. I huffed a bit, arms burning as I looked back at the guard. The blade of his axe was embedded in the stone, feeling a bit appalled at seeing the guard struggle to pull it back out from the stone and reaching up at feeling something slide down my cheek. 

My fingers pulled away with red and gold. 

“You motherfucker,” I said, jumping to my feet and narrowing my eyes at him. I rushed forward and felt energy expand from my fingers into the bat, swinging at him as hard as I could. He looked up at me right in time for an explosive clock along the jaw, cracking the mask on his face and sending him flying away from the stuck axe into the wall behind him with the sound of breaking stone. It created a crater on the walls surface and the guard fell to the ground with a groan.

The nearest Silverman Guard, who had seemed to be watching the interaction, quickly raised his hands placatively as my eyes narrowed on him. I debated hitting him as well when I heard Bronya shout behind me, glancing back at hearing her.

“I said I’ll handle them myself,” she stated angrily, using the barrel of her rifle to stop Dan Heng’s spear. She threw her arm to the side, Dan Heng dodging bayonet blades and pausing as she turned to address the remaining guards in the courtyard. The two trying to corner March she pinned beneath an authoritative glare as she demanded, “Fall back! Commander’s orders!”

There was a hesitance among the remaining guards as they glanced at each other and Bronya, but it only took an angry and stern ‘Now.” from their commander for them to reluctantly back off from their fighting stances. The ones by March backed away to the nearest wall, as did the others that were still standing.

“Now,” the commander said, directing her attention to us. Her gaze was cold and calculative, holding nothing but contempt as she looked around the courtyard between all of us. “I appreciate the honorable spirit of letting me address my troops without interruption. However, this changes nothing for your crimes. I’m allowing one last chance for you all to lay down your arms and come with me willingly.”

“Oh, fuck OFF,” I snapped before I could stop myself. Her gaze looked towards me in disapproval but I felt too much irritation to quail under her glare. “Why the hell would we give up now?”

“Yeah,” March added on, nocking another arrow to her bow as she pointed it towards Bronya. “This whole thing stinks of unfair treatment!”

There was a couple seconds of silence in reply as Bronya looked towards Dan Heng. I couldn’t see his expression from here but I saw the way his grip shifted on his staff. It was enough of a response for the commander, it seemed.

“Very well,” she stated, using one of her gloved hands to rack the rifle. The ice coating the barrel had weakened enough to crumble off as she did so, allowing her maybe a shot or two before it’d be able to be refrozen as she aimed towards Dan Heng. “I’ll just have to continue using force.”

The shot went off and struck the ground behind Dan Heng as he darted out of the way, charging forward to start sparring with her again. I rushed forward myself, conducting more energy through my bat as well. A frosty arrow whizzed by me and was cut from the air by Bronya as she twirled her bayonet.

She struck the end of the barrel against the ground once, raining more ice shards off of the metal like dandruff before raising the bayonet to block my bat. I was thrown off with a jerk from her arm, Dan Heng needing to roll to avoid the almost point blank shot to the face. Even if these were nonfatal rounds, there was no telling if she knew he’d be able to have dodged it.

With another strike of her barrel to the ground, she raised her sights and fired at March, forcing the other woman to move.

I blinked in the realization that she was thwarting March’s attempts to block her rifle by slamming off the ice before it could get thick enough to do anything, and that had to be a strong metal if there wasn’t even a dent caused by the action. 

There was no time to relay the information however as she set her sights to me, making me dodge a bullet myself. It seemed Dan Heng noticed at least, running forward to try and intercept the end of her bayonet before she could strike the ground again, successfully grabbing her attention when she was forced to block a strike of his spear to her chest. 

The battle dragged on as Dan Heng tried to keep her attention on him long enough to either allow the ice coating to be thick enough that she was forced to only use the bayonet blades or allow March and I the opportunity to get our own strikes in. Everytime I thought we could get a hit in on her, however, she was able to slip her rifle from focusing on Dan Heng to either cutting frosted arrows or blocking baseball bat hits that I put enough energy into that I ended up being the one flung to the side instead of her.

Eventually all three of us ended up beside each other as Bronya metaphorically looked down on us.

I winced a bit and reached up absentmindedly to my chest at an odd feeling, trying to ignore it given our situation. I just had to last until the end of the fight. The question was which side would be on top, but with the fact that we were struggling to catch our breath while Bronya stood tall in front of us made the chances of escaping feel very slim.

“This girl's pretty strong,” March panted as she backed up beside me and lowered her bow tiredly, looking over towards Dan Heng on my left side. “Hey Dan Heng, maybe now's a good time to show off your secret strength!?” 

“...You first.”

“Ugh, you're no fun.” March groaned tiredly, readjusting her grip on her bow.

“Intruders, give it up!” Bronya shouted in front of us, putting the butt of her rifle on the ground as she addressed us. “You will be guaranteed a fair trial.”

If there was anything that I could gather from their justice system with our meager interactions we’d had with it, I think I could guarantee that it definitely wouldn't be a fair trial. Especially not after we’ve been evading arrest and fighting back this hard. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way out of this, knowing that the others were probably doing the same.

“Ooh! Sorry,” a familiar voice called out from the wall on our left, coyly adding, “I don’t mean to ruin the intensity of the moment.”

A series of clatters diverted my attention from looking up towards the voice, glancing down to our left as three objects rolled closer. I gasped and stiffened when I realized they were bombs, barely even able to take a step back before each suddenly releasing a thick smoke. 

“What is this?” I heard Bronya in front of us, but the smoke was so thick that both Dan Heng and March looked hazy despite being right beside me.

“The fuck?” I covered my mouth with my free hand, trying to avoid inhaling too much smoke but it was impossible to take a breath without it. 

I struggled to not cough, hearing March’s own coughing on my left as she wheezed, “I can’t breathe…”

Finally the smoke irritated my lungs enough to cause me to cough loudly, eyes watering. I heard footsteps nearby, instinctively looking towards them as I felt entirely on edge. I tightened the grip on my bat even though I started feeling lightheaded, wondering what would happen if I reverted to my normal in front of an enemy.

“I have one thing to say,” Sampo’s voice came from the approaching figure, flicking his hair with his right hand as my vision started to unfocus. “Sampo never lets friends who've helped him come to harm.”

I struggled to stay upright and keep my eyes open, scowling at the smug man when he stopped in front of us, clapping his gloved hands together eagerly. My body betrayed me despite the adrenaline running through my system, eyes becoming too heavy to keep open and limbs refusing to work right, causing me to collapse near his feet. 

“I say what I mean, and I mean what I say,” the man’s voice was the last thing I registered before everything completely faded.

—-----------------------------

Sampo Koski was a man of his word, even if keeping that word meant essentially stalking his new ‘friends’ as they ended up hunted by the Silvermane Guards. Still, even if it was technically illegal, surely they wouldn't hold anything against him after swooping in and saving them at the just oh so opportune moment. He could clock friends in high places from a mile away, and these three were not only the most interesting thing to happen to the Overworlders in a long time, he had a feeling that whatever this Astral Express was would be better if he kept on their good side.

And, if he just so happened to bring the Supreme Guardian of Belobog in the process, well, how was he supposed to know? A smoke screen large enough to knock out an entire crowd of people long enough to relocate a few to the Underworld was a very disorienting thing to maneuver through.

He just had to wait near the stage for the perfect cue.

Sampo had to hand it to the newcomers though. They were able to put on one hell of a show while holding their own against the Silvermane Guards AND Commander Bronya! He gave them a round of mental applause from his position atop of one of the abandoned buildings next to the courtyard the fight was going on in, he wasn’t expecting them to make a dent towards her.

But, even though the newcomers were visibly more exhausted than the Silvermane commander he still noticed that she was also starting to get a touch sluggish.

“Well, best not keep them waiting, hehe,” Sampo chuckled to himself as the newcomers backed off from the commander to try and collect themselves again. He stood up and hopped down to the wall where the Silvermane Guards had been positioned for the ambush, calling out, “Ooh! Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt the intensity of the moment.”

He pulled out a few smoke bombs and lightly tossed them between Commander Bronya and the newcomers, watching all of them startle at the sight of the bombs before quickly becoming obscured by the thick smoke that released.

Sampo jumped down from the wall lightly and walked into the smokescreen, able to breathe in the cloud of smoke like it was normal air while four sets of coughing led him to the group through the dark gray. After all, it’d make no sense if he was susceptible to his own tools, he’d spent a while building up his immunity for escape situations.

“I have one thing to say: Sampo never lets friends who've helped him come to harm,” he declared, walking up to the newcomers as he flicked his hair from his eyes to get a better look at them. 

None of them could really do anything as the smoke started to bring them to their knees, but he could tell by the smoke-irritated glares that none of them would have had any hesitation in hitting him if they were able. Especially the guy with the staff. Yeesh, the glare that was being given was mean. Casually directing his attention to the shortest newcomer to try and ignore the metaphorical daggers on his right, he clapped his hands together and added, “I say what I mean, and I mean what I say.” 

He watched as they collapsed one by one and wasn’t even sure if the others registered what he said as they were knocked out, but it was a hell of a line to go out on if they did. Very good theatrical timing if he said so himself.

“Now,” Sampo pulled out a few small devices from one of the hidden compartments on the inside of his jacket, tossing them slightly in the air. With quick fingers he pinched one between his two pointer fingers while the rest were held securely against his palm. “Let’s get this ‘special delivery’ down to the Underworld.”

He threw the single device onto the ground like a child’s Bang Snap. Instead of letting out a loud crack, however, it exploded and crackled a wobbly portal into existence. Not too dissimilar from the ones created by the Fragmentum spread.

In fact, the whole thing was based on and even used samples taken from the Fragmentum warps. But, this technology was very early in the development and it took Sampo a long time to try and steal as many as he could from the Architects while the devices were developed. After all, he couldn’t just swipe ALL of the prototypes. That would have had the Silvermane Guards on high alert months ago. 

“Alright, let’s start with you, big guy,” Sampo slipped the other devices back in their pocket, turned to Dan Heng and crouched beside him and his spear as the smoke began to thin. The other guy was shorter than he was himself but it was still awkward trying to gather both human and spear in his hold, straightening up and walking up to the pseudo-Fragmentum portal. “And let’s hope I set this up right.”

He braced himself before walking through the portal, grimacing a little at the feeling of Fragmentum almost prodding him in a way as he stepped through. From frosty cobblestone to a warmer alleyway with the Underworld being closer to volcanic activity, he’d almost jump for joy if he didn’t have an entire person in his arms. Looking back he saw the prototype receiver he set up down in this specifically abandoned alleyway ticking away in the corner as it held the portal open on this side.

“And THAT’S why you don’t doubt Sampo Koski,” he said proudly to himself, even though a part of him had also questioned whether or not it would have worked. He didn’t exactly test any of this, he hadn’t had enough prototypes to feel comfortable wasting any.

With a light bounce in his step, Sampo nimbly maneuvered around the scrap and trash piled up in the abandoned alleyway, needing to duck beneath a rickety palette to emerge in the main street. It was blissfully bare of any bystanders, but that wasn’t due to any luck. He caught the eye of a little blonde with a comparatively large fur hat and coat that was perched on a stack of abandoned boxes, shifting his hold to throw her three fingers.

‘Three more ‘shipments’.’

Hook grinned with one of the Overworld lollipops he’d used to bribe her and threw him a thumbs up in acknowledgement, looking over down one of the side streets.

Sampo didn’t waste any time making his way towards the medical clinic discreetly. Well, as discreetly as one can with someone in his arms. Thankfully, most people down here were more worried about their own survival to be concerned about him going to the clinic with an unconscious person. This wasn’t the first time good ol’ easy-going, kind-hearted Sampo had helped someone in their time of need by taking them to Natasha.

He walked into the rickety building and made his way to the infirmary, asking one of the few volunteers, “Is Natasha in?”

“No,” the older gentleman shook his head, peering at the man in his arms. “She had to attend a house-call on the other side of town. Is it urgent?”

“No, no, I don’t think so,” Sampo said dismissively. He’d wave his hand dismissively as well if they weren’t both preoccupied still. “Just a couple newcomers that got into a scuffle nearby. I deescalated the situation myself, but just wanted to see if they could get checked on before anything else happened.”

“Uh huh,” the older man made an unconvinced noise. But, he was one of the longer standing volunteers who was used to Sampo and Natasha. Matt was his name. Gesturing to the rest of the room he said, “Find some empty beds. I’ll let Ms. Natasha know they’re here when she gets back.”

“Thank you very much,” Sampo kicked up his charming smile as he walked over to one of the empty beds and carefully placed Dan Heng down. The spear he leaned against the wall beside it and, with a flourish, he closed the privacy curtain around the bed and told the volunteer. “I’ll be back with about three more.”

The older man grumbled in acknowledgement and Sampo was out of the clinic and back by the receiver device in a flash. The portal was, unfortunately, already dissipated. Each warp device only had enough juice to stay open for about five minutes, but that’s why he had multiple. Now, his biggest concern was that the receiver wouldn’t be able to recreate the last portal's trajectory. 

Only one way to find out though.

Sampo pulled out another warp device and slipped it into a cartridge holder on the receiver's side, flicking the switch that was meant to essentially send a reverse portal to the last location. The thing whirred and ticked to life, a flash of light expanding from the prongs that had held the last portal open to create a new one. He hesitated only a moment before walking through, finding himself back in the courtyard where the other three were still lying unconscious on the cobblestone.

“I’ve got to hand it to those Architects,” he mused in pleasant surprise, deciding to grab the pastel newcomer next. She was a little easier because he could just slip the bow over his own shoulder before picking her up. “This makes it WAY easier to move things around.”

He was able to take March to the clinic without any issues and came back to retrieve the Silvermane Commander. Each time the older volunteer just side-eyed Sampo as he placed each ‘newcomer’ in their own respective bed and pulled the privacy curtain closed around them. Entirely for privacy and definitely not because Commander Bronya was still in Silverman attire and would be singled out for being an Overworld guard.

“Keep it up,” Sampo gave Hook a mini-salute as he walked back to the alley. “Just one more.”

“Don’t forget the second half of our deal,” she called after him chipperly.

“I won’t!” Sampo called back and managed to make it back to the receiver before the third portal charge depleted, stepping through to return to the cold cobblestone. He walked over to the last newcomer and crouched beside them. “And then there was one, ey, Trailblazer?”

Of course, they didn’t respond as he started to scoop them up in his arms like the others. At least he didn’t have to worry about their bat.

He almost recoiled in surprise when there was a sudden crackling sound from the inside pocket of his jacket like an electrical hiss. Concerned for his gadgets and tricks, he pulled his arms from beneath Nova as he dug his hand into the pocket that held the Fragmentum devices. What he pulled out were the capsules with thin golden arcs like electricity where the intricate seams had come apart.

“What the-?” Sampo blinked in surprise, getting to his feet. There was a noise behind him and he looked to see the active portal enfold on itself as it disappeared.

Plucking a single capsule from the bunch in his hands he threw it on the ground like he had been, but this time there was no expanding into a portal that led back down to the Underworld. There was NO portal. At all. Instead there was just the sound of metal hitting the cobblestones with a pathetic flash of Fragmentum that flickered to life before completely dying. Confused, he tossed another on the ground with the same results. Then another, and another. 

“What?” he exclaimed, looking down at the remaining couple he had in his palm, other hand against his head in confusion. “ What happened?! They were just working!”

His mind struggled to both figure out what could have happened to cause the Fragmentum capsules to malfunction suddenly and how to continue forward. He supposed he’d just have to take the Trailblazer down to the Underworld on foot, but that was a much longer timeframe than he had been hoping for.

Sampo was hoping to be back at the clinic before Natasha came back so he could try to explain himself before she saw the newcomers - and the Silvermane Commander - but now he was definitely going to show up after she got back. Hell, the others and the Trailblazer at his feet would probably wake up before they fully got down to the Underworld and he didn’t really want to experience their bat first hand. 

Still, he couldn’t just leave them on their own in the Fragmentum or put them back in Belobog because they were still wanted like the others.

“Oh boy,” he murmured to himself, turning to look down at the still unconscious newcomer and slipping the still broken capsules back into their pocket. “The things I do out of the kindness of my heart…

“I suppose I spoke too soon about giving the Architects credit,” Sampo told Nova as he knelt back beside them with a sigh. He slipped his arms beneath their knees and back like he started to in the first place, standing up with a bit of surprise as he mentally miscalculated their weight. “You’re a little lighter than you look.”

He huffed a little as he looked around, mapping out the nearest shortcuts to the Underworld in his head before deciding on a nearby route that should put him out somewhat close to Natasha’s clinic. 

Shifting the newcomer's weight in his arms he started walking through the Fragmentum. He mostly just needed to keep an eye out for the monsters created by the Fragmentum since he knocked out the Silvermane Guards that had set up temporary checkpoints through the Fragmentum while the Commander set up the ambush. They should be fine, the guard was pretty good about setting up barricades.

Most of the monsters proved no difficulty, either too absorbed in their own bumbling or easily distracted by a well-kicked stone in a different direction. In fact, aside from the setback of the Fragmentum devices suddenly not working this was probably one of the easiest jobs he’s done recently. 

Which meant that, naturally, something had to go wrong to ruin the whole operation and prove him wrong.

Sampo’s fingers twitched a bit when he felt Nova shift a bit in his hold, tensing a little as he looked down to see if they were starting to wake up. Their eyes were still closed, thankfully, but their brow was furrowed and there was a frown on their face that hadn’t been there before.

It looked like they were having some kind of nightmare, especially when he heard them start to murmur under their breath. He wondered whether or not he should try to wake them, worried that if they started sleep-talking that the closer monsters would hear them and start coming over. He didn’t really want to just drop them on the ground and cause some kind of head trauma to fight off Fragmentum monsters.

Before he could come to a decision there was a sudden flickering of golden arcs across their chest and skin similar to those he saw on the Fragmentum devices. He felt more than saw some kind of change in their weight as the nightmare seemed to kick in more, about to tighten his grip on them when the arcs multiplied and he had to avert his gaze at a sudden flash of light that paired with the sensation of the Trailblazer completely disappearing from his grasp. 

He blinked quickly in surprise and looked back to see a tiny shape starting to fall about chest level. Instinctively, his hands reached out to grab it with cupped hands and opened his palms to see what it was, eyes widening. 

“Wha- Trailblazer?!” Sampo shouted before he could help himself, but how else was he supposed to react to the person in his arms suddenly becoming a microscopic percentage of their original size. He tensed when he heard a monster nearby screech in curiosity at hearing his exclamation. Oh, great.

He panicked a little as he looked himself over, trying to figure out what to do with his now tiny pseudo-captive as he heard the incoming footsteps. Almost every pocket and compartment on his person was full of his gimmicks and helpful items. 

Another screech caught his attention and he looked over to see a couple Fragmentum monsters that took on the shape of Silvermane Guards from one of the side streets start charging towards him. In the distance, another Fragmentum cry rang out. He yelped as he started running away from the monsters, deciding to try and just book it for his shortcut.

On the brightside, with the Trailblazer being so small it meant that he could cup them in one hand sort of against his chest as he ran, using his free hand to help him vault up to the tops of the walls that lined the streets. 

The Fragmentum monsters roared up at him angrily now that he was out of reach of their ground-bound forms.

“Haha! Better luck next time, suckers,” Sampo taunted the two, running along the wall. This was at least a lot easier than carrying them normally and allowed him the ability to run without draining himself as much. Didn’t mean it was entirely safe though.

He let out an exclamation when a crystalline wing almost beamed him in the face, just barely managing to duck beneath it with nimble feet. His hands instinctively went for his sheathed daggers but one hand was preoccupied. Briefly forgetting that it was an actual person in his hand, his body moved on instinct and put the bite-sized offending object into his mouth to unsheathe his daggers.

It wasn’t until he jolted out of the way of a crystalline wing and felt his tongue instinctively pin the object to the roof of his mouth to hold it in place that he realized what he’d done, eyes widening and freezing in place at the feeling of limbs on his tongue.

Sampo didn’t exactly have time to dwell on it or think of an alternative, the winged Fragmentum creature swooping in to attack again. He raised his daggers to block it, ducking beneath to cut at the joints of its wings but something knocking against his ankles threw off his balance and he had to focus on just not falling off the wall.

The winged creature whizzed above his dagger's reach and he glanced down to see that one of the Fragmentum Silvermane imposters had its staff lifted, moving to swipe at his ankles once more.

Oh, come on!

He had to quickly jump over the swipe to avoid being tripped, eyes widening when he simultaneously had to block the screeching winged Fragmentum creature that aimed for his head, planting his feet on top of the wall with a brief second of thought before deciding to just retreat. Spinning on his heel and avoiding another stab at his ankles he sprinted along the top of the wall. He heard the trio screeching behind him as the Fragmentum monsters all took pursuit.

Something shifted in his mouth, the Trailblazer's limbs twitching against both his tongue and the roof of his mouth. A very weird and unfamiliar sensation that threatened to be incredibly distracting.

Not now, he thought worriedly. He found himself twirling a dagger briefly to sheathe it quickly, raising a gloved hand to his mouth as he debated taking them out right now. But he didn't want to risk dropping them in his haste to escape so he scrapped that idea almost as fast as he thought of it.

If he could just slip into his shortcut to the Underworld out of the Fragmentum, then he could just spit them out, no harm done, hopefully before they fully woke. Then all he'd need to do is make the rush down to Natasha’s to find out WHY THEY SHRANK IN THE MIDDLE OF EVERYTHING, far easier said than done with the loudmouths tailing him. He could hear other screeches in the distance of other Fragmentum monsters catching onto the chase that was happening.

Of all the days for one of his heists to go wrong, this had to be one of the worst and the oddest.

Sampo was getting close to the alleyway he used to get in and out of the Fragmentum zone, balancing between deteriorating cobblestone and metal railings that lined some of the walls. A glance behind him showed that he'd lost a couple monsters but gained a few more, particularly the faster winged ones and one that seemed like it had a skirt of crystal with crystalline antlers crowning its head. It raised an arm for a ranged attack using the Fragmentum around it and he had to jolt to the side to avoid what looked like the air shattering beside him.

He turned his gaze forward just in time for the shaft of a halberd to clothesline him in the chest as he ran into it, knocking him off the wall ungracefully. He felt something hit the back of his throat harshly and his body instinctively flinched as it started trying to cough but his back hit the ground, forcing the object into his throat.

Sampo struggled to clear his airway, swallowing hard once then twice to move it past his trachea painfully, barely rolling out of the way as the end of the halberd struck down where his head had just been. The sound of faux-metal hitting stone rang out and echoed with his coughing as his body tried to ease the sharp pain in his throat that dulled to an ache, ignoring the feeling of something slipping deeper into his chest in favor of giving the Fragmentum creature that ambushed him his full attention.

“H-Hey, watch the face,” he snapped at the creature from the crouched position he ended up in after rolling away, gesturing to his face with his empty hand. “It’s one of my money-makers, you know?”

The creature only snarled in response, raising its halberd back into the air to prepare another swing as it lunged forward.

“Not much of a talker. I can work with that,” Sampo quipped to no one, not hesitating to rush into the fight and draw his other dagger. From the brief glance he got around the street, this Fragmentum monster was the biggest threat along with some incoming winged ones behind him. He could hear other Fragmentum screeching but Sampo Koski was quick and light on his feet, knowing he outran a few and probably even lost a couple in his run.

His blades clanged against the creatures as he blocked its swing. He slid one of the blades so that the halberd shaft slotted against the hilt of his dagger, twirling the other one in his hand from assisting the block to pinning the halberd staff to his hilt, trapping the halberd and giving the Fragmentum creature resistance as it started trying to pull its weapon free.

“Sorry, pal,” Sampo wrenched his blades to the side, jerking the halberd staff along with it, and backflipped with a kick. His boot knocked into the forearm of the Fragmentum creature, messing up its grip on the halberd as his entire body weight pulled against it. Thankfully, the halberd was forced out of its grasp, otherwise that would have been a scramble to regain his composure.

One of the winged Fragmentum caught up to the fight as he landed back on his feet and flung the halberd to the side, ducking to dodge a wing to the face and dashed around the Silvermane imposter, hooking one of his daggers into its side. Using the dagger as an anchor he pulled himself towards the creature as he rushed past it, allowing him to quickly turn to stab his other dagger into the back of its neck. With a sharp twist and pull the creature's head fell off to land on the ground, letting out one final death rattle as he dodged the winged Fragmentum again.

With empty hands and being able to hone in on the fight more it was far easier for him to slide beneath the winged Framentum and stab upward to cut through the core where wing joints would theoretically be on both the already present Fragmentum and the second that had managed to catch up.

Sampo huffed a little in the aftermath of the small battle, turning to run towards the alleyway he’d been going towards, quickly slipping into it as more screeching sounded closer. He had no idea if Fragmentum creatures mourned each other, but he didn’t want to stick around to see if they understood the concept of revenge either. And, now that he was relatively safe he could focus on the perceived aftermath of what he’d done.

He didn’t just swallow one of the newcomers, did he? He wanted to say no, but there was a distinct weight in his gut that hadn’t been there before, sheathing one of his daggers and placing a hand against his abdomen cautiously as he continued to rush for the shortcut to the Underworld.

“Ah, y-you doing alright?” Sampo asked hesitantly, feeling a weird sensation as the Trailblazer twitched in his stomach. Okay, that meant that they were fine, right? He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he felt more movement, sounding far more calm than he felt as he told them, “Don’t you worry bout a thing, good ol’ Sampo Koski will hav-.”

His impending monologue was interrupted by his insides suddenly exploding, barely covering his mouth in time to muffle a pained shout. He couldn’t quite tell what exactly was happening past the pain, but he knew that Nova was doing it and that they were obviously panicked from the muffled shouting he could vaguely hear. Maybe he’d be able to tell what they were saying if he wasn’t more focused on not doubling over in pain.

“Wh-Why the sudden hostility, friend,” Sampo managed to say through gritted teeth, not expecting a response. Not a coherent one at least. He could feel his own heart race and his lungs struggle to take in a full breath of air past the agony. He didn’t blame them, but it made him wonder if they’d burst from his chest. “L-Look, just hold on and I’ll getcha out, okay? Sampo’s word.”

Part of him hoped the statement would calm their nerves somewhat but he didn’t expect it to, and it didn’t. He’d just have to rush to Natasha’s clinic as quickly as he could before either of them ended up dying.

Without further ado he rushed through the alleyway past piles of snow-covered scrap until he reached the end where a hatch was hidden amongst the debris, clumsily opening it and falling into the Underworld. He barely used the ladder in his haste, sliding down with his gloves on the lengthy poles holding the rungs, stopping himself barely a few feet from the rocky floor.

Stumbling in the shafts of an abandoned mine, he sprinted as much as his body and the pain would allow, relieved only slightly when the sharp pain stopped by the time he reached the tunnel that led him to the active mines and the town. It left a throbbing ache that spread throughout his insides and made him worried that the newcomer had succumbed to his body. But, he felt them move and shift with each corner he took, letting him know that they were alive.

The time it took to sprint to Natasha’s clinic was a different kind of agony, not acknowledging a waiting Hook as he ran through the streets he had blocked off by the kids, beelining it to the door of Natasha’s clinic to rush up to the main clinic floor and bursting through the door.

“Natasha!” Sampo exclaimed, freezing when multiple pairs of eyes looked towards him. There were the patients and those waiting, of course, obviously looking towards the sudden noise that disturbed the otherwise mostly quiet clinic. But there was also Natasha herself talking with both the older volunteer, Matt, and the newcomers. 

Great, they were all awake.

“You again!” shouted the pastel-haired one, pointing towards him with an accusatory finger. He felt the Trailblazer in his stomach stir and hoped they wouldn’t start beating up his insides once more, or to at least make it quick as the dark-haired newcomer narrowed his eyes towards Sampo and sent a chill down his spine.

“Yes, me,” Sampo agreed, walking into the room as his mind tried to figure out the best way to go about this. He certainly didn’t want to alarm the other people in the clinic, and he had a feeling that both March and Dan Heng were ready to tear him apart. Looking at Natasha, he said, “Miss Natasha, I-.”

“Have a lot of explaining to do,” the doctor interrupted him sternly, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s this I hear about-?”

“Yes, yes,” Sampo interrupted her back, feeling like an imaginary clock was looming over his shoulder. Even if Nova seemed fine now, who knows how much longer they had? “Miss Natasha and friends, I swear I will explain everything and more, or my name isn’t Sampo Koski! However, there seems to be a bit of an EMERGENCY and I’d like to see you in your office, hmm?”

He clasped his hands together, giving Natasha a strained smile and hoping to whatever Aeon was listening that she would take the hint to pull him aside.

“Emergency, huh,” Natasha’s voice sounded a little unconvinced but intrigued. She gave him a stare for a few more tense seconds before walking towards the door leading back out into the stairwell. “Come on, then.”

Sampo didn’t hesitate to trail after her like a large dog lumbering after its owner  with his height over her. He felt the newcomer shift a bit in his gut, unsure how to feel about just how well he could make their movements out. A shudder went down his spine at the odd sensation, having not really had to pay much attention to it in his panic.

“So,” Natasha opened the door to her office and walked inside. It wasn’t really an office, more of a private checkup room for those that didn’t want their medical affairs to be as public. She waited until he was inside and closed the door, looking back at him with crossed arms. “What kind of emergency is it, Sampo?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure where to start,” he admitted, reaching up and running a gloved hand through his hair. “I was just helping the newcomers get away from the Silvermane Guards- Hey, these guys scratched my back, it’s only fair if I scratched theirs.”

Natasha looked unamused at being interrupted from her questioning the second she opened her mouth but thankfully just watched him expectantly.

“A-Anyway,” Sampo continued, absentmindedly resting a hand against his abdomen when he felt Nova start to move around more. “Something happened with the last newcomer and the next thing I know they’re TINY! I’m talking able to fit in the palm of my hand kind of tiny, Miss Natasha.”

“Uh huh,” the doctor raised an eyebrow at him like he’d just grown another head. “Go on.”

“Well, there was a lot of running and dodging, and I may or may not have accidentally put them in my mouth to free my hands up for fighting and… well,” he found himself struggling to finish, still very much in denial about the situation himself. “I accidentally swallowed them…”

Sampo stared at Natasha, waiting anxiously for her reaction. But, it wasn’t her that spoke first, the door slamming open.

“You WHAT?” the dark-haired newcomer stared at him with gray eyes. He didn’t shout but his tone stressing the end of the question got the point of it across as good as any exclamation.

“Oh boy,” Sampo’s voice trailed off with a nervous chuckle, eyeing the readied spear in the other man's hand.

—-----------------------------

“... They will suffer, sacrifice, and die because of my order.”

I blinked in surprise and confusion at the voice of Cocolia so near, unable to move and only able to see. In front of me stood a figure in the same garb as the Supreme Guardian, back turned to me as she faced a machine that looked like it held a black and gold diamond shaped structure in front of her.

I felt like that would be more alarming if part of me didn’t register that these weren’t my memories, these were memories imparted to me once more. 

“It is not death which greets them…” another voice tried to reassure the visage in front of me, some pang going through my chest as though the Stellaron within me felt some sort of kinship with the machine. “They will be swept into the infancy of a new world.”

“What about the Underworlders?” Cocolia asked, worry lacing the edge of her voice. “They will lose the protection of the Architects. They will see me as… as a tyrant.”

“You have witnessed… the world we have promised. A temporary misunderstanding… for an eternity of prosperity. We will honor… your decision.” The machine whispered to her, coaxing.

In front of me, I saw Cocolia’s hands tremble at her side as a second went by in thought, fingers going limp as her shoulders slumped in resignation. “I understand.”

I wanted to protest everything that was going on, mentally stamping my foot down and trying to get the attention of Cocolia to try and say that she’s still fucking with peoples lives and to not listen to the Stellaron. But, I knew it was in vain, that what I was observing was the past. Whether I was receiving the memories from the Stellaron itself was unknown, but I knew that time was starting to run out on whatever deal she had made with the thing.

I couldn’t dwell on it too much though, not when my entire world began to jostle and shake suddenly. But I wasn’t anywhere physical, did some kind of earthquake happen in the memory? Cocolia wasn’t reacting like there was…

The jostling stopped and made me think that it was somehow a part of the dream, like perhaps the connection to whoever’s memories these were was being interrupted or something. But, my mind started to slip into darkness, no longer a vision and not quite waking up. I also couldn’t quite force myself back into awareness, only vaguely noticing things if at all.

Like how everything felt unstable for a moment, giving me the stomach in my throat feeling that happened sometimes with sleep, before steadying somewhat again. Only to feel slightly warm and claustrophobic a short while after. I didn’t even know you could feel claustrophobic with dreams. 

And the jostling and shifting returned.

My brow furrowed as the sensations slowly became more and more prominent, frowning at the oddity of it all. Jostling and shifting felt sort of familiar, having been manhandled a couple times in the last week in my smaller state but that didn’t explain why it felt sort of hard to breathe, why it felt humid and hot where I was, or what the sound of gusting air was coming from.

I tried for a while in my weird moving surroundings to move my own arms, able to occasionally hear a muffled screech or a far louder grunt nearby, but it was slow going. By the time I felt like I could twitch my fingers everything was kind of smooth in a consistent bouncing sort of way. Opening my eyes in bleary confusion to darkness I was barely given a moment to try and figure anything out past the mind fog when everything around me jerked violently.

Jolting a bit more into awareness as adrenaline rushed through my system there was another all encompassing jostle that forced me into a space that felt almost too tight, not even able to process anything when I heard a loud gulp all around me.

“Heh?!” I barely managed to wheeze out a startled noise as I was forced down what felt like an extremely tight rubbery tube, realizing that my clothes and hair were soaked with something that made it difficult to get a hold of anything. In a sort of mounting horror I noticed that the walls of the tube were moving, shoving against me and making it difficult to breathe, my vision spotting with colors. Somehow it got even more compressed with the sound of another swallow and what sounded like a sigh of relief, both far too close than logically possible.

“H-Hey, watch the face! It’s one of my moneymakers, you know?” the sound of a certain shifty man boomed around me, realizing it was getting a bit further away and more muffled above me as he responded to a screech with, “Not much of a talker. I can work with that.”

“S-Sampo?!”

I felt everything jolt and jerk around me, the tube around me twisting and compressing with some kind of movement from… somewhere, only made worse when the claustrophobic squeezing turned into essentially being within some kind of bouncy house. It felt like a bouncy house at least, except more wet and warm with the bouncy house having control instead of the person inside.

I was relieved to not have a full stomach, the tossing and turning making me feel nauseous.

I’m not sure how long it was before the screeching outside stopped and everything stilled somewhat. It hadn’t been long, I think, but I still stayed mostly still for several seconds to try and wait out the daze. I thought that it was just my dizziness making me feel like everything was still moving but I realized that, no, the floor was still shifting beneath me.

“Ah, y-you doing alright?” Sampo’s voice above me caught my attention, still extremely louder than usual.

“S-Sampo,” I asked quietly, forcing myself to slowly push myself up into a sitting position despite still being a bit dazed. I frowned a bit in confusion when there was no response, focusing on whatever small amount of energy I could reach within myself to muster a spark. My face scrunched up a bit at the sight, struggling to comprehend what exactly I was looking at. Pink walls glistened in the light, pulsing almost in time with the…. breathing I noticed.

That’s not my heartbeat, I thought to myself, eyes widening when I realized the heart I was hearing wasn’t the blood rushing in my ears.

 “Don’t you worry bout a thing,” Sampo’s voice spoke up above, only solidifying what my gut instincts told me. Before I could think much on it I felt a jolt of energy travel to my fingertips, the space lighting up with a crackling light as my baseball bat manifested. “-good ol’ Sampo Koski will hav-.”

I didn’t even wait for the man to finish, swinging at the nearest wall of flesh as hard as I could several times, shouting, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

I heard him respond back but didn’t pay attention to it as I continued to swing, summoning as much explosive energy into each hit on the walls, shouting everything I could think of from demanding what was going on, what happened to everyone else, what he was doing and why he fucking ATE me. He answered none of my questions or demands to be released. I lost my footing a few times as it felt like he was moving somewhere, feeling more fear and panic as time went on. 

I summoned another spark at some point and saw more liquid on the floor beneath me. I didn’t want to find out whether or not it was harmless.

Continuing my barrage as long as my body would allow, I eventually lost my footing to the shifting floors and couldn’t gather the energy to push myself back up, my bat briefly lighting up the surroundings weakly as it fizzled from existence. Panting, I could feel the pool of fluid in the chamber with me and flinched when a particularly sharp movement from Sampo caused it to lap entirely over a forearm. I instinctively tried to hold onto something everytime things shifted me ‘out of place’, trying to not be sent sliding around.

On the brightside, I didn’t feel like anything was happening to me. But I also didn’t know much about the human body. I just knew people ate things and then it was essentially gone a few hours later. Maybe things just hadn’t kicked in yet, even when the walls started closing a bit more with each undulation, much to my dismay.

After a while I realized I could hear the muffled sounds of people outside. Nothing in particular, just what felt like the general sounds of street activity, albeit through an overlay of a racing heartbeat and panting above me. The sound of footsteps on stone, then wood.

Pondering on whether or not that meant Sampo was as panicked as I felt, I jolted in surprise as he suddenly shouted “Natasha!” above me.

“You again!”

I heard March’s voice from outside and quickly sat up, holding a hand to my head as a round of dizziness from laying in exhaustion kicked in at the sudden motion. “March!”

My voice came out hoarse and scratchy, a whisper compared to the loud shouting I’d hurled at the shifty man earlier. FUCK. I tried clearing my throat and testing my voice as Sampo talked above, not feeling satisfied for several seconds. When I felt like maybe I could shout loud enough again, I heard ‘Come on then.’ from an unknown woman outside.

“Wait” I exclaimed, breaking out into a cough immediately afterwards as everything moved again from what I assumed to be Sampo’s footsteps. Pissed that I may have missed my chance I shifted and hit part of the flesh beneath me, hissing, “Fuck!”

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like I was exactly a secret to be kept hidden away, hearing Sampo start to explain to some Natasha about what happened. It filled in some gaps of memory I had since I was knocked out but it was incredibly weird to hear about my own situation. Especially since it felt almost unbelievable that this was entirely accidental.

I jolted a little at the sound of a door slamming open, hearing a familiar but muffled voice demand, “You WHAT?”

“Oh boy…” Sampo chuckled overhead but I heard a distinct increase in his heartbeat and breathing.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to- ma’am!” the unknown woman, Natasha, shouted in surprise.

“We’re not leaving until we get answers about our friend,” March’s voice was somehow able to cut through everything very well. “You didn’t actually eat them, did you? This is just some weird prank, right?”

Unfortunately, it isn’t, March…

“Ma’am, I assure you that’s impossible- sir, put your spear away and step away,” Natasha replied just as everything moved again. Only once, making me think of Sampo stepping back. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

“L-Let’s settl-.”

“It’s not impossible,” Dan Heng’s voice interrupted the other man and I heard the sound of a footstep followed by a few lighter ones, along with another ‘Sir!’ from Natasha. “And if he’s telling the truth, I won’t hesitate to cut them out of him myself.”

“Fucking hell,” I mumbled to myself. On one hand, I was a little mortified at the thought of him doing that but I also felt like I’d be the same way if something happened to the other two. Them and the others on the Astral Express were about all I knew since being found recently.

“Our friend has a condition, you see?” March’s voice spoke hurriedly like she was trying to prevent a fight. Maybe she was just trying to keep them from getting kicked out. “If they don’t take a specific medicine, they shrink to only a couple inches tall. We don’t know how to fix it yet and they must have forgotten to grab some medicine when the Silvermane Guards woke us up this morning!”

“Your friend… shrinks,” Natasha repeated slowly in disbelief from outside.

“Yes!” I shouted even though no one could hear me, forced to more or less wait and see what would happen.

“I told you,” Sampo said adamantly before suddenly yelping and swallowing hard above me.

Did Dan Heng or March threaten him or something?

“Well, you all seem rather convinced,” Natasha spoke up from the outside, sighing a little. I could only imagine what was going on through her head. Shrinking seemed pretty rare in space, I can only guess it’s entirely unheard of on a planet that was just focusing on its survival. There was the sound of heels on the floor and the door closing again. “Come on.”

“Eheh, r-right,” Sampo sounded nervous, everything moving with a weird side-to-side jerk that shuffled me along with it before going to a more familiar motion that ended with a bit of a jolt.

“Now, hold still,” Natasha’s voice was a lot closer, surprising and confusing me. I waited for anything else to be said, by anyone, but several weird moments of silence went by that was only interrupted by the sound of the body around me. As I wondered what the fuck was going on the woman spoke up again. “I don’t hear anything abnormal.”

“W-Wait, are you sure?” Sampo asked while I heard two muffled ‘What’s from both March and Dan Heng. 

“Fuck, was I supposed to be talking,” I exclaimed to myself with a jolt of panic, not realizing that she’d been listening. 

“Are you sure about that? I mean, they were shouting an awful lot at the-.”

“Quiet,” Natasha’s voice interrupted Sampo as he started talking. “I think I heard something.”

Oh shit, please let that be me! I thought to myself, quickly calling out, “Hello! Uh, Natasha lady?”

It felt kind of awkward since it felt like I was talking to nothing, especially when I had screamed myself hoarse earlier with no results in any regard.

“Well, that’s a surprise...”

“What is?” March’s voice asked nervously.

“I did hear a small voice. And here I thought Sampo was trying to spin some sort of tall tale for some unknown reason.”

“Wha- then why didn’t they speak up the first time?” March asked, somehow sounding concerned, relieved, and annoyed at the same time. I couldn’t help but feel indignant.

“Oh, MY fucking bad,” I retorted automatically, my own irritation and tiredness making me snap back despite not being heard. Bristling, I resummoned my bat after minutes of resting, still feeling tired yet continuing, “How the fuck was I supposed to know anything was going on outside? I can’t see dick in here and I’d like to be out of this fucking BASTARD!”

I didn’t even bother getting to my feet, conducting energy through my bat and swinging at the nearest offending wall with an explosive impact. Almost immediately I yelped as I found myself compressed between the folds around me.

“Ow!” Sampo exclaimed loudly.

“What happened?” Dan Heng spoke up this time, quickly.

“Well,” Natasha’s voice replied, sounding far more nonchalant than I feel like most people should in this situation. “Your friend made the question of how they were supposed to know anything was going on when they can’t see anything and then demanded to be let out. Granted, their wording was far more colorful.”

“That sounds about right,” Dan Heng sighed. “Are they alright, at least?”

“They seem to be, yes,” the woman answered, though she sounded far less pleased about it than I was feeling, which confused me. “Although they shouldn’t be… That question can wait, however. Now we need to figure out a way to get them out. And before you suggest it again, I’d like for you not to cut them out of him.”

“How are we gonna get them out then,” March asked.

“Well, I can see about making a medicine to force them back out, although it likely won’t be pleasant for either of them.”

“Ugh, you’re going to make him throw up?” March sounded as disgusted as I felt, which kind of made no sense since I was already in here. Even Sampo made a noise of disgust above me. “... I’m going to wait outside then, Dan Heng.”

You bitch! I thought to myself, though I felt like I’d be in the same boat if I was the one outside.

“If they come out injured, I won’t hesitate to hurt you myself,” Dan Heng said.

“Duly noted,” Sampo replied with a nervous chuckle, shifting a little.

It wasn’t long before some foul-smelling concoction made its way into the stomach with me, both Sampo and I gagging at the smell. I tried to pinch my nose shut and hold my breath, almost yelping when the stomach around me clenched and forced me back upwards. It was way tighter and rougher than being swallowed but it was also almost instant, finding myself in a sudden freefall within a second.

Thankfully, I didn’t plummet to the ground or anything, finding myself caught by something, blinking in the comparatively bright light and seeing that I was in some kind of net. Shivering in the cooler air, I looked around where it seemed like some kind of mesh was placed over the top of a, graciously clean, bucket.

“My goodness, you are small,” Natasha’s voice caught my attention, looking up to see her take the bucket from Sampo, who seemed to have been hunched over it to vomit. I was just glad it was just me and some bile at the most, else I’d feel the urge to hurl a lot more than I already did with the awful smell clinging to me.

“And nauseous,” I replied, sitting up and trying not to touch anything. I didn’t exactly want to pinch my nose anymore since it’d waft more of the smell on me.

“You think you’re nauseous,” Sampo mumbled from where he sat on a rusty exam table looking like he was struggling not to vomit again. Dan Heng narrowed his eyes at the other man, making him flinch. “O-Of course, the least I could do given the circumstance!”

“I hope you don’t mind if I give you a quick rinse,” Natasha said, unbothered by the two guys as she placed the bucket in a deep sink in the room, jostling me in the netting. She reached for the faucet off to the side and a bottle of soap but paused as she looked at me.

“Aeon, please do.”

“Good.” she nodded, turning on the faucet slightly to allow a light deluge and started slathering some soap on her hands. “This is unfortunately the only way I can think of getting you clean at this size. And while I’m helping you with this, SOMEONE can go find the Silvermane overworlder he brought down here that ran off while he was away and maybe find the medicine you left in the Overworld.”

“Right now?” Sampo glanced over, looking a little pale still. But, he made a noise and got to his feet when Natasha stopped sudsing the soap and looked back at him. “I mean, of course, right away, Miss Natasha!”

The man scrambled to the door and out into the hall, giving a ‘Oop, pardon me.’ as he did so, March walking inside a second later.

“Is Nova okay?” she asked, approaching Dan Heng who just nodded in my direction.

“Hi, Ma-arch!” I yelped when a handful of cold water was gently poured on me, shivering more almost instantly. “Fuck!”

“Sorry,” Natasha held out a hand covered in suds, offering the foam to me. “I didn’t want to waste any hot water. We usually save it for those more susceptible to the cold.”

I was feeling really fucking susceptible to the cold myself right now but I held my tongue and just grabbed a handful of foam to try scrubbing the stench of the medicine off. It smelled like mint. 

“Y-You’re fine,” I shuddered, feeling a bit awkward with the quick wash but ignored it for the sake of getting it out of the way. “I’m fine, March.”

“Are you sure? That must have been terrifying,” the woman commented, looking at Dan Heng for agreement.

“Well, I’m not gonna deny that,” I scrubbed off myself the best I could, even taking off my hoodie to make the foam work better as I talked. “Unpleasant, at l-least. Bit of a rude awak-awakening.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Dan Heng said. I looked up at him on instinct when he spoke up and saw something unreadable cross his face, a common enough occurrence for me to ignore it.

“I’m glad you g-guys care.”

“Of course we care,” March exclaimed, sounding almost offended. “You’re one of the crew now! We take care of our own.”

I resisted the urge to remind her that we’d met barely a week ago, Natasha being nice enough to interrupt anything I was about to say with another handful of cold water. A couple more and there was no foam on me at all, though I was left soaked and shivering still. 

“Here,” Natasha scooped me up in her hands, still a weird sensation, and walked me over to the duo waiting. When Dan Heng extended the hand not holding his spear she took great care in depositing me into his palm. She reached into a fold on her dress and pulled out a handkerchief from a hidden pocket, carefully draping it over me. “I have to return to my patients, but you’re welcome to stay or go as you please. Just try to stay safe and out of trouble.”

“Will do!” March said chipperly, putting her hands on her hips.

The doctor waved a farewell to us as she left the room, leaving only the three of us.

“What now?” March asked, looking between Dan Heng and I. “She mentioned some Silvermane overworlder. You don’t think it’s the one that we were fighting, do you?”

“She did get knocked out with us.” Dan Heng replied. 

“All I know is I want to beat the shit out of Sampo the next time I see that motherfucker and I’m normal again,” I hissed, wrapping the handkerchief around myself as much as I could. March looked down at me, giving an unamused expression.

“Trust me, we’ll help you.”

[maitredorsia]

American Psycho has been hijacked by ideological misogynists; and the most common counter argument I see is people pointing out that the film was directed by a woman, the book was written by a gay (or bi, depending on who you ask) man and therefore it should be obvious that it’s a satire. This is true, but it doesn’t touch on just how anti-manosphere AP actually is (despite predating online in-cel culture) and I want to explain what I mean —

Bret Easton Ellis explicitly stated that AP is not only a satire on materialist culture, but that it’s primarily a self-directed critique — he had a period in his life where he aspired for the ideal male lifestyle presented in magazines like Gentleman’s Quarterly. This alienated him from the people around him. It made him miserable.

We see this in Patrick as well, though it’s exacerbated by his presumed AsPD and very clear mental illness. His pathological need to be the perfect man, to have the perfect life, completely isolates him. Women are nothing more than objects, prey, meat. They only serve to satisfy his desires — in the film, he and his friends laugh about how “there are no girls with good personalities” and the ideal woman is “a little hardbody who will satisfy all sexual demands without question”. (A conversation which also occurs in the novel almost verbatim). Sound familiar?

In a particularly gruesome scene near the end of the novel, Patrick says: “though it does sporadically penetrate how unacceptable some of what I’m doing actually is, I just remind myself that this thing, this girl, is nothing, is shit […]”. This is exactly the way that manosphere content conditions men to think.

A few sentences later we get the kind of thing you see “blackpill” guys saying when they explain their plight: “And later my macabre joy sours and I’m weeping for myself, unable to find solace in any of this, crying out, sobbing “I just want to be loved”, cursing the earth and everything I have been taught: principles, distinctions, choices, morals, compromises, knowledge, unity, prayer […]”

Tl;dr: Patrick Bateman is explicitly (albeit sort-of inadvertently) and fundamentally an anti-in-cel figure. He is a warning.

[thewebcomicsreview]

Crafting A Comic: Frog Alarmclock And The Fabric Of Time

For a long time, I’ve wanted to make a webcomic.

I’ve written two webcomics, Legend of the Hare and Saffron and Sage, but I didn’t draw either of them. And I’ve always been a little self-conscious about that, and harbored a desire to make a comic all by myself, art and all. This desire has been inflamed lately by the success of ForEach, a comic made by one of my discord mods. It’s getting kind of popular, and already has more interest and engagement that Saffron and Sage, something I’m very normal and well-adjusted about, and I’ve been thinking this is something that’s in my power to make. My art, while still limited, is finally at the point where I can do this, and I’ve been writing forever. All I need is a plan.

I have never been a good planner, and it shows a lot in my comics, so I want to have a lot more of the comic written out and planned before pencil comes to paper than I traditionally have done, and I‘d like to turn this brainstorming into Content for you all. It’s a critical part of the writing process, and one that gets glossed over a lot, in part because it leads to slightly rambling essays. But I do have one thing to start with: a protagonist.

(Art by HolyHandGrenade)

Frog Alarmclock is a young woman being trained to join a coven of powerful witches who stitch the fabric of time. She has very little interest in this grand destiny, and is a bit of a stereotypical NEET loser despite her great magic power. Her name, Frog, comes from a knitting term referring to a way of correcting mistakes, but obviously frog-the-animal theming is cute and marketable. I’ve posted a bit about this character on my discord, and the reaction has been overwhelmingly positive, so I think there’s some potential here worth mining. So far, though, the only plot element I’ve been able to come up are

Frog lives with her Grandma, who trains her. Grandma’s power level has fluctuated wildly in my rough drafts, from “generic witch” to “personally gets into fights with Satan in hell”, and I’ve been leaning towards the higher end. Frog and Grandma don’t get along. I’m giving her the placeholder name “Batra”. It sounds witchy, sounds batty, and it comes from batrachia, which means Frog, so it fits the theming subtly.

Frog lives in a Florida suburb. I don’t remember why I settled on Florida specifically, and that may change, but I do like the idea that this cosmic entity lives in kind of a slummy neighborhood. I may move them to Lowell, MA, which is closer to home and an aesthetic I know better.

Frog has a crush on a pink biker chick with pig theming, the Miss Piggy to her Kermit. For the time being, lets call this character Susie Pepper. Susie from “Sus” the latin word for pig, and Pepper because Peppa Pig. It’s a placeholder name.

That’s all I got so far. Even the name, “Frog Alarmclock and the Fabric of Time” is placeholder I made up just now while writing this. I’ve written a few random short stories of this character, trying to get a feel for her, and I even made her my character in a weekly Pathfinder game. But it’s time to try and get a proper story going. With Legend of the Hare, I had a huge over-arcing five-year plan for each layer in the tower, but little sense of where the comic was going to be in three pages, which led to a lot of problems. With Saffron and Sage, I set out with a vague over-arching storyline of “Saffron must rescue her prince”, and kept the comic to short episodic self-contained stories, taking heavy inspiration from Gunnerkrigg Court. Saffron would go on wacky adventures, and rescuing Faunus would be some vague future goal she was theoretically working towards in the same way Ash Ketchum wanted to be a Pokemon Master but took 20 years to get around to that. This worked better, but led to the comic feeling very aimless and meandering, which is part of why it’s turned increasingly farcical. In some ways, my two comics would be better served by switching protagonists. Saffron is very driven in a way suited for a somewhat goofy battle shounen, and if Jill set out on an adventure to rescue Riley she’d be distracted more easily and it’d lend itself better to an adventure-of-the-week format.

Frog, being a NEET loser, is closer to Jill than to Saffron. And suddenly, just from that sentence, I know what I want to do with this comic now. Writing this essay has given me one of those Eureka moment that happens sometimes, when you go from no ideas to the entire plot of the comic all at once. Frog is Jill if she was the Rabbit Champion for a few years before the story started. They’ve got different personalities, of course, Frog isn’t just Jill with a big hat, but this is the throughline I needed. I can work with this, get a first draft done, get an editor to look at it, and report back to you with more detail.

[rinwritesfics]

Fix It

Plot: Hunter comforts the reader after difficult news is received.

Warnings: Comfort angst

Word Count: 1610

Author’s Note: This is entirely self-serving and my partner convinced me that it’s okay to share. I got some difficult news on a family member this past week, and maybe this will help someone feel like they’re not alone. This can be read as platonic or romantic.

I quickly cupped my hand over my mouth as I set down my datapad, tears filling my eyes. The sob I choked back was held in silence – for now. This news wasn’t something I was ready for, let alone for anyone else to know. It was hard to hide anything on this shuttle, but I was going to damn well try.

Take a few breaths in, clear my mind, don’t look at the datapad.

The tears began to recede. Good.

I sniffed slowly, deeply, and it was quiet. Good.

Just as I was about to put away my datapad, a soft clearing of a throat came from behind me, causing me to jolt. I spun around, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Hunter said softly. He took a good look at my face as I tried to avoid his gaze and his expression fell. “You okay?”

I looked at the floor and blinked back more tears. “I’ve been better,” I whispered, then wiped away a tear. “I didn’t bother you, did I?”

He shook his head. “No. But what’s bothering you?”

My voice was shaky as I responded quietly, “No offense meant, I promise, but I’m not sure if it’s a situation you’ll quite understand….”

“Try me,” he said back just as quietly.

I bit my lower lip, then handed him the datapad. Detailed in my messages was the health diagnosis of a very close family member for an incurable disease. Tears filled my eyes and I looked away to try to stop them again as he read.

A moment passed before he handed the datapad back to me.

“And here I was complaining about being cold on this mission,” he said quietly.

I made an attempt to respond, but nothing would come out except a strangled sound in my throat.

“I am so sorry,” he continued in his quiet tone.

I hiccupped as I sniffled, gaining the courage to speak as concisely as I could. “You would think that this galaxy would have a cure for this since the science to give you guys life exists.” I paused, then my eyes widened. “I don’t mean that in a bad way against you guys, I swear.”

He gently touched my arm. “It’s okay. I didn’t take that personally. Do you know how long your loved one has?”

I shook my head, then whispered, “The doctor only gave estimates. With a disease like this, it could be a short time, it could be a long time. Maybe three years, maybe more.”

Hunter said softly, “It’s not an insignificant amount of time, but it definitely isn’t a long time. Maybe something will come along.”

“I can’t hold my breath and hope for a cure to speed run itself in three years, let alone available to the general public. And I can’t fix it. The only hope I have is how long their independence holds out.”

Hunter nodded. “With something like that, I can see why you say that. I’m here when you need to vent. I wish I could do more.”

I nodded, wiping away more tears at the same time. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he whispered.

“I wish I could be there right now instead of on a mission,” I said miserably, more tears filling my eyes.

“I wish you could, too.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “It’s not that I’m not grateful to be with you guys, I just….”

He nodded, looking at me with a gentle but sympathetic look. “I know.”

I felt sick to my stomach. Here I was complaining about my wants and needs while we were in the middle of a galactic war and the man I was complaining to didn’t even have his own freedom to make life decisions for himself. “Stars, do I ever sound selfish right now….”

He shook his head. “No, no you’re not selfish. You have every right to want to be with your loved one during this.”

More tears blurred my vision and my sniffles increased. “But -”

“No. I know it’s hard, but if you let this overwhelm you, then your hope is all gone. And you need to have hope for spending this time with your family member. You have to have hope.” He gently squeezed my shoulder and I leaned into that comfort.

“How can I have hope for something like this? There’s no hope for it to get better.”

“Even for something like this, there’s hope. Do the next right thing. It’s the light that still exists, even when the tunnel you’re in is collapsing.” He tried to make it sound optimistic, but my heart wrenched and anger grew.

I scowled and raised my voice, no longer caring that others might hear. “My family member has a fatal disease! There is no light at the end of this tunnel!”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I wish I could change it. I wish I could fix it. But you still have to keep that light to keep going. Even if right now, it’s just for them.”

My tears began to fall freely and I covered my face with my hands. Hunter immediately pulled me into a tight hug, one hand at the back of my head as I buried it in the crook of his neck and one on the middle of my back.

I cried into his shoulder, finally letting myself feel the devastating news as it washed over me. Finally, when I calmed down a bit, I whispered an apology to him. He shook his head.

“You’re going through a lot. This isn’t your fault, and I’m not about to judge you for needing a shoulder to cry on.”

“No, but still… I’m your squad medic, nothing is supposed to phase me….”

A small reassuring smile on his face grew. “That’s not true. It’s okay to let this out, because breaking points exist.”

What he did next surprised me. He brushed a few strands of hair behind my ear, but I was feeling too numb to let it affect me any further.

I sighed. “Alright. Maybe it is okay for it to affect me.”

He nodded. “Absolutely. You’re not emotionless. You’re not made of steel. You have every right to express them, and I will never shame you for your emotions.”

“Thank you….” I whispered. “Sorry to have bothered you about this. I had tried to keep it to myself, keep myself professional.”

He shook his head. “Don’t start that. You have every right to express it. I’m just glad I can be here to help you when you need it.”

I nodded and he pulled me into another hug. My head rested against his shoulder and I sighed. “Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired,” I whispered.

“And that’s okay.”

My mumbling took over and I closed my eyes. “I may just fall asleep like this.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

“You’d mind standing for so long.”

“Then let’s get you into a bunk. Come on, I’ll keep you with me and keep you safe.”

I pulled back and looked at him. “Sharing a bunk?”

“Yep. Come on.”

He led me to a bunk and laid down, pulling me in close to him. I closed my eyes.

“Hunter?” I whispered.

“Yeah?” he replied quietly.

“I’m scared.”

He whispered, “I know, cyar’ika. And that’s okay. I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

I swallow thickly, tears filling my eyes again. “But I have to watch one of the strongest people I know become wholly dependent on everyone for things that include basic needs and functions. It’s so hard to think about. It’s not fair.”

He gently squeezed me. “No, it’s not fair at all. It’s extremely difficult. It’s not something anyone should have to go through on either side.”

“They would like you, you know.”

He smiled a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just hope you can meet them while they can still shake your hand.”

“I promise to make every effort to get that to happen, cyar’ika,” he said softly. “I promise to be here for you and support you.”

I sniffled more. “Thank you.”

He rubbed my back, holding me close.

“Hunter?” I said after a while.

“Yeah?”

“You know this means now I have to get tested for the genetic markers, right?”

He froze, then pulled back to look at me. “W-wait, you mean you may end up suffering from the same illness, too?”

“It’s now genetic,” I whispered and he hugged me tighter.

“What happens if you come up positive for the markers?”

“Then we have to prepare for the possibility that I may develop it, too, at some point.”

“No matter what, I will support you for as long as I can and as best as I can.” He frowned, clearly more troubled than he was letting on. Both of us knew the unspoken words of him being owned by the army, his accelerated aging, and the possibility either of us could die due to this galactic war.

“Thank you,” I whispered anyway, holding him tightly. His arms wrapped around me, almost as if sheltering me. I blushed slightly and my eyelids began to droop.

“Rest. Nothing can be done tonight while you’re exhausted.”

I went to protest, but then I nodded. He was right, of course. Even if I didn’t want to sleep, my exhaustion was going to drag me kicking and screaming under the waves of unconsciousness due to my earlier sobbing.

“Thank you, Hunter,” I whispered as my consciousness faded away. Stress sat right on the outskirts of my rest, but with Hunter keeping me safe, I could get some shut-eye in. He was always right there for me. And for him, I was always grateful.

Tagging: @trixie2023, @maybethatfanfictionwriter

[seenoversundown]

Affirmation

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (OC)

Warnings: Fluff! (otherwise n/a)

Word Count: 2k

This Must Be The Place - Talking Heads “Home is where I want to be But I guess I’m already there”

I awoke to the feeling of Jake curled around my back like a kitten. 

These were my favorite mornings, the slight chill of the autumn air being held at bay by the absolute love of my life. Sharing warmth and skin in our own little bubble, undisturbed by the outside world. 

We’ve been together long enough that our circadian rhythms were in sync. When one of us begins to stir, the other is sure to follow. 

I felt Jake nuzzle in closer behind me, wrapping his arm tighter around my middle. 

“Call out today, Red” he mumbled out in a gravely voice, thick with sleep. 

I let out a small chuckle, as I turned in his arms to look into his eyes.

“We have this conversation every morning, Jacob.”

He plants a sleepy kiss to my waiting lips 

“But, I really mean it this time. Let’s go on an adventure.” 

I thought about it for a second. I rarely call out, even if I am actually sick. And with his job, Jake and I hardly get to spend time together during daylight hours. 

“Well, if you really mean it, how could I say no?” I pressed a featherlight kiss to his forehead, before lightly shoving his shoulder, 

“You’re on coffee duty, though.”

Huffing out a long, dramatic sigh, he got up and shuffled into the kitchen. 

________________________

We walked hand-in-hand down the damp cobblestone streets, the sounds of the harbor serving as background noise for our contented silence. 

When Jake promised me an adventure this morning, I didn’t think he meant “window shopping for the bar.” 

I was more than happy to tag alongthough. Few things made me happier than watching him get excited about his work. 

I loved seeing his eyes light up every time we stumbled upon something that he felt would make the bar he owned and managed with his brothers just slightly more welcoming. 

I was completely transfixed by him, as we stood outside of a shop that sold vintage cookware. He was in a quiet conversation with himself, debating the merits of switching to an all cast iron set up for the kitchen. 

I couldn’t help but stare. The way the light hit his hair, almost giving it a copper tint. The way he rubbed his free hand against his mouth, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

He truly was beautiful and I still don’t know how I got so lucky to stumble across him. 

I felt him lightly squeeze my hand, tearing me out of my thoughts. 

“Ya hear me, honey?” 

A faint blush painted my cheeks, as I shook my head ‘no.’ 

“I said that I think we should head over there” he nodded his head toward an occult shop across the street. 

He’d always been the (far more) spiritual counterpart to my skeptical self. 

“For what, Jacob?” 

“Been thinking about getting some authentic spooky shit for The Bar for Halloween” 

I let out a laugh,

“Let’s just stop at Target. I’m sure they have something sufficiently spooky.” 

“That’s not very adventurous of you.” 

I rolled my eyes and gave him a mock salute 

“Aye Aye, Captain, lead the way.” 

________________________

The bell on the door chimed as we entered the shop. We were immediately greeted by the smell of freshly lit incense. 

“Welcome to Garden’s Gate!” 

The woman behind the counter greeted us warmly, gesturing at the floor to ceiling shelves that lined the walls around the store. 

“Take a look around, and holler if you have questions. I think you’ll find that we have something here for everyone.” 

She said the last part to me directly. 

Good Lord, does she have some type of Skeptic Detector? 

We thanked her, and went our separate ways to explore. 

Jake made his way deeper into the store, while I stuck close to the front. 

The section I was perusing was, lovingly, I think, dubbed the “Baby Witch” area. 

The shelves were filled with books on all topics of occultism, journals, pre-bundled herbs, and basic “supplies.” 

However, I found myself gravitating toward the small table of crystals that were set out. 

My hands flitted across several before settling on a small, pink tumbled stone that seemed almost out of place amongst the larger, raw stones that sat beside it. 

I picked it up, rubbing my fingers along the smooth edges, getting lost in the feel of it in my hand. 

“Rose quartz,” I startled at Jake’s voice. 

Where did he come from?

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head before continuing 

“A very romantic stone. Associated with the planet Venus and by extension Libra and Taurus. Thinking about me, are you?” 

I rolled my eyes, setting the rose quartz back down. “Maybe I just thought it was pretty, Jacob.” 

“Nah, I think it was fate, Red.”

I turned to face him, noticing that he had set a small basket filled with “authentically spooky” items on the ground beside us. 

“Ready to head out?” I asked, nodding my head to the basket. 

“Mhm” 

He laced his fingers with mine before leading me to the front counter. 

Jake made small-talk with the woman behind the counter as she rang him up and bagged his items. 

She looked into my eyes, as she handed Jake his bag and receipt,

“Y’know. I don’t typically do this, but I’d love to give you a reading, free of charge.” 

“Oh, I don’t know. That sounds like it’s more his thing…” I smiled awkwardly

“That may be true, but the universe doesn’t have any messages for him right now.” 

I shifted back and forth on my feet, thinking for a moment. 

What’s the harm? I don’t believe in this crap anyway. 

“Okay, I guess” 

“Perfect! Follow me.” She walked out from behind the counter, flipping the Open sign to Closed, then led us to the back of the store, opening an unassuming door and practically shoving us inside. 

At the center of the dimly lit room, there was a table set up with chairs on either side of it. 

In the middle of the burgundy crushed velvet tablecloth sat a deck of tarot cards and a half-burned white taper candle. 

“I truly don’t normally do this. I prefer to schedule readings in advance to avoid having to shut the store down in the middle of the day,”

The shopkeeper let out a laugh and invited us to have a seat while she busied herself with lighting the candle and shuffling the cards, 

“However, the second you walked in the store, I knew I had to do a reading for you.” 

“That’s… interesting”

She stopped shuffling and asked me to cut the deck into 3 separate stacks, then began shuffling the stacks into each other again. 

Why am I so nervous? 

I glanced toward Jake, and he squeezed my hand reassuringly. 

She finally set the deck down. 

“Before I get started, I want you to take a few deep breaths and try to clear your mind. Picture yourself breathing in positivity, and exhaling negativity. Let me know when you’re ready.” 

I huffed out a small laugh, but closed my eyes and did as she requested. 

On each inhale I thought of everything I had to be thankful for, and on each exhale I sent out all my doubts, worries, and insecurities. 

“I think I’m ready.” I opened my eyes to find her already staring back at me. 

“Great! I’ll explain as I go, but I do feel called to do a Past/Present/Future spread for you. So, the first card I pull will represent your past; what you’ve overcome and what you’ve grown from. The second card I pull will represent your present; where you are currently at, areas that may still need work. The third card I pull will represent your future; where you will be, and what you have to look forward to.” 

I nodded along with her, as she placed her right hand on the deck and took a deep breath. 

I instinctively leaned forward in my chair as she flipped three cards over in rapid succession. 

She studied them for a moment before glancing quickly between Jake and me, smiling   

“Your interest in the Rose Quartz makes sense, now” 

I raised an eyebrow, looking down at the cards before me. 

“This one right here, your Past, is the Two of Swords,” she pointed to each sword, then the blindfolded woman between them 

“She is…well- was, in your case, at an impasse. Stuck between two choices; your heart and your head. You wanted nothing more than to be loved, and to share your love freely in return. But the logical side of you wouldn’t allow that. You can correct me if I’m wrong, but I feel like your hesitation was related to a much larger issue. Possibly your family or your career?” 

I found myself nodding along, despite my better judgment. I didn’t want to give her too much information to work with.

“This leads us into your Present, the Two of Cups. The man and woman here are fairly self explanatory. It’s obvious what choice you made in your past,, I want to focus on this back here,” 

She points at the symbol between the man and woman, each holding a cup, on the card. 

I’ve seen this before. It’s used in the medical field. 

“This symbol is a Caduceus. It’s the symbol of Hermes, the messenger of the gods in Greek mythology. Hermes, being a messenger, also ruled over Communication. This card showing up in your present means that you’ve found a good foundation with your partner, and you’re able to clearly communicate your wants and desires with them. Because of this partnership, you’re able to ‘fill each other’s cups.” Neither of you take more than is offered, nor do you expect it. It’s very mutually beneficial.” 

I nodded, and caught Jake nodding along this time as well. 

“Finally, for your Future, we have The Four of Wands. This is an absolutely beautiful card to see in a reading like this,”

She points, first, to the couple joyfully dancing underneath a wreath. 

“They are symbolic of a well deserved period of joy. Instead of the calm before the storm, think about right after the storm, when the birds come back out from their hiding places to greet the sun. Your future will be full of that love and happiness if you continue on the path that you are on now.” 

Shethen, pointed to the four wands that held the wreath the couple was dancing beneath. 

“These symbolize all the little foundations that you’ve built so far, and the ones you will continue to build. If you continue to nourish them, they will be fruitful,” 

She finally points out the Castle in the background. 

“And this is the fruit of all the labor you’ll put in. This is your home, where you belong.” 

I sat there for a second, my head spinning. 

There’s absolutely no way this wasn’t planned. She has to have some special romance deck hidden away, full of fairytale cards, waiting for women like me to come in. 

“That’s all I have for you, today. I hope it was helpful, or reassuring at the very least. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the shop won’t run itself.” 

She stood, snuffing the candle and opening the door for us.

“I do hope to see you two lovebirds back in here.”

Jake and I stood and began making our way to the exit, thanking the woman as we crossed the threshold.

“Can you believe that? What a load of nonsense.” I looked at Jake as the shop door closed behind us. 

“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that, Honey.” He smiled at me, then dragged me into the alleyway beside the shop.

He pressed my back into the brick wall behind us, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses up my neck. 

“What are you doing, Jacob?” It came out breathier than I intended. 

“Why don’t I take you home and prove to you just how right she was about us?” 

I squirmed against him as he nipped at my jaw. 

“By all means.” 

Masterlist | Taglist

[beneathashadytree]

Hello! Can I request prompt 16 with mycroft from mtp? I hope you have a nice day!

FIRSTS - MYCROFT HOLMES X READER

Warnings : none I think, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff n puppy love

Word count : 0.6K words

Additional notes : Hi nonnie! This was a very sweet request, and felt like a breath of fresh air. Hope you like this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!💗

Prompt : “You were my first kiss.”

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

The gloved hand that was stroking their waist oh-so-tenderly, and the other calloused one that gently tilted their chin upwards, couldn’t possibly distract them from the fact that they were being kissed by none other than the man they’d fantasized about for the past nearly 3 years.

Even in their most fanciful dreams, they had never quite imagined the softness of his lips brushing at theirs, barely there at first, before pressing more surely as they melted into the kiss—and his careful embrace. They hadn’t ever dared to picture how his shuddering breath would mingle with theirs, or how his touch burned in its wake, or how his blue eyes would look, darkened as his emotions swept them up altogether.

But there they were, actually kissing Mycroft Holmes, and not a single coherent thought remained in their head.

Stunned, they’d stilled at the start, before his warm lips and the affectionate look on his face completely robbed them of any other thought than to follow his lead. They hadn’t the faintest idea what to do, but to try and kiss him back by mirroring his actions was their best shot.

It felt far too soon when he pulled back, though they could understand that it was done under the guise of propriety. Only when he’d left a few inches of space between them could they finally dare to exhale, though that gave their body enough time to register the fact that their knees had suddenly grown wobbly.

“Oh dear,” they faintly said, stumbling a little as they tried to regain their balance. Mycroft looked a little alarmed, and his fingers fell from their chin while his grip on their waist grew tighter—a fact that only served to make their tummy flutter harder.

“Are you alright?” His deep voice was too near, and too much all at once. They could feel their face burning more with every second that passed, and knew that they must’ve been a rather embarrassing shade of red.

“Yes,” they managed to say, leaning on his rather muscular arm for a few beats, just so they could straighten up. “Yes, I’m only… a little overwhelmed.”

Mycroft frowned at that, an expression it seemed he was so scarcely without—though they, who knew him better than anyone else, knew that to be quite untrue, for they’d seen him smile so gently more than enough times than was good for their heart.

“Have I misread something?” His question was quiet, but direct. “Was this unwanted?”

“No!” they were quick to exclaim, before growing embarrassed by their outburst. “No, it just… you were my first kiss.”

A look of understanding came on his face, before being replaced by one of faint amusement. “Ah.”

“Ah indeed.” They sounded vexed as they brushed the front of their crisp shirt, though that was probably directed at their own self. “I’ve embarrassed myself, haven’t I?”

“Why on Earth would you have?”

Scoffing, they glanced back up from the imaginary flint. “Come now, it was abundantly clear how inexperienced I was. With kissing, I mean.”

“I hadn’t noticed, actually.” At their look of incredulity, Mycroft insisted. “No, really.” He looked painfully awkward for a half-second, before he cleared his throat. “Perhaps it’s because it was my first kiss as well, and I was too… distracted to notice.”

Dumbfounded (and probably even left gaping) by his revelation, they could only splutter out one question. “Uh, you…? I mean, what distraction? That is, what had you distracted?”

Another awkward clearing of the throat. Dark eyes met theirs soon enough, and the hesitation on his face might’ve even been counted as bashfulness. “It might have something to do with the fact that I’d been wanting to do this for quite some time now.”

Lightheaded at yet another shocking revelation, they shakily breathed in, voice coming out smaller than they’d anticipated. “Ah.”

“Ah indeed.”

Taglist : @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hey hi hello!!! How are you today?

I was wondering if I could get a match up?

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

I can't stop listening to Brand New City by Mitski since last week. I just really like the emotion in her voice. I also really associate myself with the line "if I gave on being pretty I wouldn't know how to be alive". So that's that.

What is your Enneagram type?

7w8, used to be a 9w1.

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

I dooo! I really like enjoy video essays about linguistics and mental illnesses as well

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

I never really had an imaginary friend. I mean, I remember being annoyed at my shadow for copying everything I do, but I don't think that counts.

I actually didn't have any friend untill I went to school. I was always okay playing by my self.

Though I do remember making little scenarios in my head while playing on the playground; one of them being me as Harley Quinn trapped in jail while Joker saves me (I was obsessed with Harley Quinn as a kid, okay..)

What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

Rambling asmr.

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

I'd like to pick a name that sounds nice in most languages, since mine doesn't.

Maybe something like Eleanora with Nora as a nickname.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

I can't pick one so I'll say "holiday decorating with your boyfriend but he's a chaotic mess" and "listening in on your crush's thoughts". These are the audios that really made me smile like an idiot. They don't really have anything to do with the plot yet they're still my favourite.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

Hot take but...David. It's just...idk man, I usually like the tsundere type put sometimes I feel like David is too rude. I enjoyed his first audio but the rest...idk man. I like angel a lot tho. I myself a lot in them, but David is definitely not the type I'd go for. I'd probably feel really annoying and unloved with a guy like him 🤷‍♀️

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

"The spy next door". I watched it waaaaaay too many times as a kid and I sometimes still do.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

Asher!!! He seems like so much fun dude. He also reminds me a lot of my friend.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

I start rambling about 'what if' scenarios. Like what if I was born a year later? What if brother hadn't been born? What if that one time at the cafe I didn't order my usual drink?

Stuff like that.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

Idk I can't drive...😔

Chocolate and banana milkshake is my go to drink tho.

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment. 

All my saved songs mashed up...

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

Harry Potter fanfiction.... hear me out okay... I know it sounds...bad.. But damnit some of the fics are just too good.

Other info:

Idk if this is important or not but my mbti is ENTP-T and I'm also very short (5'1). Do what you must with that information...

Thank you!!

The combination of your personality traits gives me the impression of an extroverted, strong-willed person; they’re giving Smartass, you know? This combined with your preference towards tsunderes makes me think you’d be a good match with Aaron.

I can get what you mean about David being “too rude”; in contrast, Aaron’s certain brand of tsundere reads more playful? Like, he grasped early on when the attitude isn’t serving him or when to tone it down which is why I like him better for you. Also, the fact that your chosen name would be Eleanora and his brother’s name is Elliott, the fact that both his most loved people in the world could be called “El” is just really cute. That’s kismet a little bit.

Your life with Aaron would be such a dream (though that’s any life with Aaron, I will admit.) I can clearly imagine him making you your favorite milkshake every Saturday morning to start your weekend right (even though I can see him personally hating it /lh something about his vibe tells me he hates chocolate and banana together but not as much as he loves you). I can see him asking you about the fanfic you’re reading- not because he cares about Harry Potter (he doesn’t particularly) but because he likes to hear you talk about it. Also, your not being able to drive is fun because he’s an excellent driver, and don’t we all dream just a little bit of having to be a passenger prince(ss)? /lh

Song:

I just don't wanna miss you tonight/ And I don't want the world to see me/ 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand/ When everything's made to be broken/ I just want you to know who I am

One, that last line is very tsundere-core, that sentiment of “I don’t need the world to know or see me as long as I have you”. Two, this song is such a classic, and it matches the alt, rock, grunge vibe that Aaron gives me. I think he likes this song and genre a lot.

Runner-ups:

In addition to giving me Smartass vibes, your personality types also remind me of a more extroverted Damien; because of this, Huxley would be a cute runner-up for you. To do a total one-eighty, your mention of considering What If’s means I just have to give you Echo as a runner-up okay heaR ME OUT-

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[brilla-brilla-estrellita]

WIP Wednesday

Hiya! Thanks for the tag @cutestkilla!

So last week I posted about a new WIP that features a deaf character that I am trying very hard to write. Over the last week I have spent many many hours reading everything I could find on writing deaf characters, types of hearing loss, types of assistive listening devices, mainstream schools vs specialized schools, and what support students are entitled to in the classroom (and what support students actually get in the classroom -- they are, unfortunately, not the same list). I also spent hours just writing about this character -- her likes, dislikes, her family, childhood, etc.

Next up I plan to do more reading about the kinds of support available in schools both in the US and in the UK and the experiences of being deaf or hard of hearing in mainstream school, and whatever else I happen upon along the way. I also have more to write about this character just to flesh her out some more, and I often randomly think of something about her while I'm in the middle of something else and have to stop what I'm doing and write it down. After I feel like I've got her character and her role in the story pretty well built out, I'll write out a nice summary and look for a sensitivity reader to hopefully talk through it with! (If you are deaf/HoH and interested, pleaaaase hmu!)

Anyway, here's a short snippet of the WIP, and more Penny POV. I'm not sure if it will stay or not. I may be projecting my own practices onto Penny.... (Also no shade if you do use tarot cards as divinatory tools rather than self-reflection tools. This is just Penny's judgy scientific side coming through.)(We all know she's not the spiritual type.)(Scientific sounds weird though since it's in a very magical setting, but that's what it is? Magical science?)

Penny:

Journaling is a practice I started when Shepard and I started dating and I realized it was serious (it didn’t take long after that first kiss, really). I wanted to pay more attention to myself and my actions. I didn’t want to repeat past mistakes. It has served me well, so far. I even go so far as to use tarot cards sometimes when I’m having a hard time identifying what I’m experiencing. Tarot decks aren’t innately magical items. They’re not even a tool typically used by mages. They’re primarily used by Normals who believe they can see the future— a claim yet to be proven. I reluctantly picked them up at Shepard’s suggestion. Apparently there are some Normals, even therapists, who use it as a tool of self-reflection. I hate to say it, but it does help to get myself unstuck and get my thoughts flowing. The thoughts are coming, but the connections aren’t forming. Something about this is itching me, telling me there’s more to scratch. (That’s a feeling I’ve picked up on in journaling, too. That I’m not quite getting to the truth of my own psyche.) I pull a card.

Thanks for reading! Tagging @onepintobean @martsonmars @thewholelemon @technetiumai @agni-ashes @ileadacharmedlife @iamamythologicalcreature @facewithoutheart @shrekgogurt @raenestee @skeedelvee

[fierceawakening]

I’ve been thinking a bit more about the whole… Thing where Tumblr warns you that the whole general social understanding of narcissistic personality disorder is stigmatizing and wrong, and how different it is from many clinicians who say that more neurotypical people in relationships with narcissistic people tend to be mistreated and even abused, trying to figure out a more nuanced way of understanding what the dispute is that isn’t just “society is ableist and psychiatry needs a group of people to throw away” or just “some people are born evil and nothing they ever say is accurate in any way.”

And I was listening to a podcast from a guy who is on the “I’m a clinician, close personal romantic relationships or friendships or being raised as a kid by narcissistic people can REALLY fuck more neurotypical people up bad” side of things and I noticed a difference in focus I’ve been pondering since.

The Tumblerians who talk about having NPD (there is some question I've seen about whether they have formal diagnoses or whether several/many are self-dxed; while I am not anti-self-dx in general, I do wonder about it here, as Official Healthcare Providers almost all say that it's rare someone would self-dx this one correctly, and that in the wild it's almost always given to people in court-ordered programs or who are pressed to enter couples therapy or the like. So I'm saying they think they have it, not to assert I'm sure they don't but to flag this as a thing that confuses me) talk about it in a way Tumblr really likes lately when discussing mental health.

That is "thoughts are not actions." That it's very possible for a person to have thoughts they don't actually endorse, like intrusive thoughts from OCD, or to have odd beliefs they don't tell people about or act on, like I don't know, "I have spirit guides and I know they're real but I come from a family of militant antitheists who'd mock me endlessly if they ever knew where I get my good ideas."

On this framing, narcissism is a thought or a belief, typically "I am superior to other people." This is a belief that is objectively untrue, but that has been formed in reaction to trauma or chronic feelings of worthlessness. Challenging someone by telling them, "you are not superior to others," then, is pointlessly jabbing them in the Feelings for no good reason. They know, on some level, it's objectively untrue, which is why they *don't* act on it and expect other people to serve or revere them, but they "believe it" deep inside themselves so as not to experience the profoundly destabilizing existential question, "what if I'm actually not so great?"

Which... if this is all people are doing, then yeah, that sounds pretty minor. Or at least, not much worse than perfectionism, something I myself struggle with. It's okay to think weird things.

Where the person I was watching the other day, who does think that narcissists act frequently in harmful ways and that a narcissist who is able to not act on their thoughts of superiority is rare, keyed on something else. As I recall it (and I may be embellishing a little but this was the gist):

"The issue is really the sense of entitlement. The rest of it's not all that bad by itself really. But entitlement means they think they deserve things others don't. And if they think they deserve something and you don't deserve it, they're not going to give it to you."

This stuck with me, as I don't think it's something Tumblr would generally disagree with in any other situation. We talk a lot about "privilege," which as I understand it is the idea that some groups are treated better than others in society. If you tend to be treated well, you tend to expect to be treated well, because you have no reason to expect something else. But this can and does collide with reality when you run into somebody who thinks you haven't proven yourself deserving of royal treatment and who tells you to stuff it.

There is a lot of talk on Tumblr about how much people should be blamed for not noticing privilege, or where exactly annoying but blameless cluelessness ends and blame-worthy entitlement begins. I'm not saying we all agree on everything. But we do seem to agree, broadly, that "entitlement" exists and is a vice.

So when I hear "narcissistic people tend to be entitled," what I hear is that they tend to possess a noticeable vice. Where Tumblr seems to think "they believe an odd thing, which is a thought and not an action."

I don't know if I have a conclusion here, other than that I lean toward "entitlement is bad, and it's not likely easy for someone to secretly have it and make certain to never let on."

But... Fascinating. Just... fascinating.

[track-five]

Do you ever get self conscious about your writing? I’ve been writing for a long time but have recently started writing within this fandom, and just feel like everything I write isn’t good/wouldn’t be liked. I haven’t felt so insecure/self conscious about my writing in a while (honestly, my writing is usually something I can compliment myself on so this feeling has been very weird). I was just wondering if you can relate to this feeling at all and how you deal with it if so. I personally love your writing and it’s what inspired me to pick writing back up, but I can’t shake this feeling and wondered if you had any tips/advice?

always. always always.

i get so self-conscious about my writing that i'll spend a half hour on a sentence so it doesn’t make me sound stupid. i’ll reread fics and realise i used the word “forehead” three times in one paragraph, and then i have to sit there for a while and contemplate deleting my entire digital footprint.

i don't think i'm the best writer in the world by any means, but i have been doing this since i was very young. i write a lot of mediocre shit for sure, but i'm also featured in a published book, so i know i'm capable and at least half-decent at what i do. even with that confidence, i also almost quit this a few years ago. context below if you're interested lol

a few years ago, i got anonymous comments on a specific fic telling me i was disgusting, i should be ashamed of myself, it was the worst thing they ever read, i’m pathetic for writing at my “big age”, calling me an embarrassment to women (i'm not one?), etc. they also called me a furry because i used the word “purred” to describe someone talking? shoutout to the furries but i am, in fact, not a furry and was very confused by that accusation! i don't know if it was one person or multiple, but it really fucked me up. ever since then i’ve been much more anxious to post, but it's gotten better over time.

it's not likely that you'll encounter a goblin like that, but if you ever end up in that situation, turn off anonymous comments. if someone wants to tell me how shit my work is, go ahead! i can take criticism...but if they’re going to be a dick, they've gotta be brave enough to be off anon. be traceable so i can see exactly how much better your work is than mine! stand by your words, coward! let me read your freaky shit so i can see how concerned i should be over your moral and linguistic concerns! anyone who treats others like shit online while they hide behind their profile, anonymous or not, has some serious issues to confront that are not a reflection of your hard work.

something to keep in mind is that most people who start a fic that isn’t their taste will simply stop reading it and find something else. they’re (probably) not going to call you a furry or a disgrace. you'll find out what people do like about your work, and it will help you to find areas you feel more confident in. for example: i've been told i write certain tropes/situations well, so i now feel more open to stretch beyond my comfort zone when i know i've written a good foundation.

if you go into it with the knowledge that you’re doing it for yourself and that you are personally happy with what you wrote, there’s no need to feel self-conscious (easier said than done). who’s going to know that you wrote it? unless you tell someone, nobody will connect it back to you. we’re all just freaks on the internet looking for something to do with our time, right? writing what i do serves a purpose for me, i'm just lucky enough that there are others out there seeking the same comfort (and offering me the input and support to keep improving). as long as what i've posted helped me process an emotion, was fun to write, challenged me to improve, etc...i feel more confident about sharing it. if you gained something from the experience of getting those words out, that's what matters most.

also...i did realise that in order for someone to comment on my fic being the worst thing they ever read, they chose to sit there and waste their precious time reading it all…so either they’re god’s bravest soldier for consuming that shit content, or it was good enough to keep their attention for a few thousand words