#in favor of them just taking the lead and making all of my planning documentation. redundant.

[miodiodavinci]

there’s a more correct way of saying it though

[nihilnovisubsole]

i think i followed you Back In The Day, seven years and seven blogs ago, for something related to mass effect (zaeed? maybe? who could say) and it's wild to come back to this site years later and find you thriving, surviving, growing-- playing ffxiv! love that game. curious how you'll feel about some side characters in shadowbringers, but i won't spoil which ones.

i do have real questions, though; writing tools. not pens or software, but personal structure tools and/or guidance. what does a beat sheet look like, for you? do you have a favored way of outlining or note-taking on your own thoughts when putting a story together?

and... i'm really curious how you hold a big story together in your head while you work on it in pieces, especially for something like dangerous crowns. there's this larger story i've been chasing around for a while, and I can't quite wrap my head around how to write the political/espionage plot for it without feeling like i've actually written a children's pantomime. the best i've got so far is "research real life events and use those as my outline" but after a point it becomes hard to keep track of all the variables of who knows what about whom, who is planning x when y, etc, etc. the characters don't need to know all that-- and may never know some things-- but i feel like /I/ need to understand what's happening on the macro level so i can move the world around them appropriately.

short version: how do YOU wrap your head around writing complex plots?

hey, anon! i started endwalker this week after a long... uh... glamour detour, so don't worry about spoiling things. i spoil myself for a lot of stories on purpose anyway. let's just say i've been attached to one too many characters who got killed.

anyway. writing. i've always handled plots the same way: clear documentation. if i don't note it down, i'm not going to remember it. i've used the same table outline since around 2014. it varies in detail for different projects, but the core format stays. i know it's kicking around in my blog archive somewhere, but it's worth reposting once in a while because people like to ask about it. here's what it looks like, featuring plot points cribbed from an endeavour episode:

i used this format for an outline at work a while back, and the team found it easy to follow, which was a big day for my ego. keeping track of plot structure is even more chaotic at work because we have multiple writers who all need to stay on the same page. we have very meticulous notes on what the player should know at which point, when we're introducing new information, and what we know, but shouldn't tell. we're also not above leaving notes like "this character has to convey X," "this character has to learn Y here," or "this is a clue that they're planning Z." it can be super on-the-nose. all that matters is that it makes sense to you. because you're right - if you get too lost, you can write yourself into logic holes of tremendous proportions. ask me how i know!

[as a sidenote, researching real-life events as a starting point has really grown on me in the past few years. my lead on coh3 had me do it. he said we were dealing with real people's history, so we couldn't be cheap or play fastball - we had to be accurate to pay it respect. even if you're not writing historical fiction, it just gives you insight into how people behave.]

i would argue that the plot of dangerous crowns is actually not that complicated, maybe to its detriment. there's kind of a genre struggle going on. at voltage, we were taught romance fans came for the relationship beats and valued them above all else. in fact, leadership told us players got irritated - which meant less sales - when the plot was too complex and took time away from the making out. political thriller fans, by contrast, expect relentless twists, high stakes, and harsh consequences, and sometimes see the relationships as superfluous.

but whatever. the point is, when you look at dangerous crowns' structure, it's a pearl necklace: a chain of anchoring events. the "pearl" scenes are where Big Plot happens. they're the reason you want to write the story, and probably the ones you have the most vivid daydreams about. the scenes in between are the string. not flashy, but important because they connect the pearls. they build tension and add logic, cohesion, and context. take the opera and hector's failed assassination. those are pearl scenes. that's a burst of drama i really wanted the story to build up to. i also had other flashbulb visions. livia by the fountain questioning herself, marcus' macbeth moment, the temple riot, things like that. so the question was, how could i believably travel between these pearl scenes? how could i make these big showcase moments connect smoothly?

if you're having trouble holding the story together in your head, i would ask, "what are your pearls?" what are the anchor points? outline those. it might not look like a necklace yet, but you'll sort of see it taking shape. and then, once you can see where your heart's-desire milestones are, you'll have a clearer idea of what can't fire until you set it up first. two other neat things can happen here. you could find the rhythm of your pacing, or realize you have a lot more plot meat than you thought you did. even if you don't, you have some road. and if you can't think of the string, sometimes you just have to start writing the pearls and see what comes to you.

good luck!!

[folkloristico]

May I return the favor? 🤭 4, 6, 7, 22, 24, and 77 for the writing asks!

Thank you for the ask!

Let’s see…

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

I have a document—sorted by fandoms—where I keep track of all the ideas I come up with so I don’t ever forget them. From there, it’s just a matter of where inspiration leads me; I’ve realised I’m more inclined to write on the spur of the moment than to make plans and stick to them. It’s a bit problematic because I have too many WIPs, so it can take me a long time to finish one, but hey, at least it gets finished… eventually.

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

Under a certain number, all ages kind of blurred together in her mind, and Griffin had not yet stopped to think of the princess as a child; the way Faragonda and the others talked about her did not help to mitigate this image.

7. Post a snippet from a WIP.

Their surroundings shimmered like the faint memory of a dream, and they were in the library once more. Seen like this, in such stark contrast to the crumbling ruins of its truest version, the view left Bloom transfixed; but there was little past the illusion. The borders to the far corners were blurry, and no sound could be detected. The air smelled like nothing at all. Daphne might not be dead after all—but what else was this, if not even worse a fate? “Have you really been staying here alone?” Bloom forced herself to look Daphne in the eyes. “All of this time?” Daphne gave a faint shake of her head. “Not quite. I’m barely aware of what’s happening. I’m… too weak to remain present. I feel the strongest when you’re close by.” “Because of the Dragon Flame?” “Our family’s power, yes.” Bloom faltered, averted her eyes. “Forgive me,” Daphne said swiftly. “I know it must be strange for you.” “No—” Bloom trailed off. A thought occurred to her, and she surveyed the room once more as if it had suddenly changed. “You can’t hear my mind in here—can you?” Daphne gave a laugh. It was a gentle sound, the most alive thing there was about her. “It doesn’t work like that. We share a link, is all. And—I’m a pretty good judge of character, if I may say so myself.” 

Daphne angst + library mentioned <3

And I must say, I’m really enjoying writing Bloom now! 

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Honestly, I do anything my brain tells me to do. Sometimes I start writing a fic and the title comes to me shortly thereafter; some other time I even build an idea around a title. But other times I’ve changed the name of an already posted story on a whim, because I really can’t make up my mind. If I’m really struggling with the title, I skim through a bunch of lyrics of my favourite songs until something comes up. I think at least ten of my WIPs are named after a Hozier or Florence song.

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

The most important thing to me when choosing a POV is asking myself: What am I trying to achieve with this chapter, and which POV would benefit the most?

For instance, I have this canon-divergent WIP from season 2 that focuses on Diaspro and Bloom while they’re being held prisoner by Darkar. Something happens in the first chapter that only Bloom can be a witness of—the Dragon Flame being the reason why. Long story short, she’s ‘trapped’ in her own head—it’s Daphne that helps her break free—so I’m using Diaspro to show what’s happening during the time Bloom isn’t awake. After that, the story becomes more Diaspro-focused, and there would be no reason to switch to Bloom’s POV once more. In another WIP of mine, not Winx related, a character is keeping a secret from the others, and I’ve decided to switch to her only when that secret is revealed. I try to at best have a vague outline before jumping on the writing phase of a longfic, and I quite enjoy the phase where I’m figuring out the best way to mess with the POVs.

If we’re discussing first person vs third person, in fanfiction I will always favour third person over first. I might consider writing in first person if it’s the same POV the book is written in, but generally speaking, I find first-person very off-putting in fanfiction because the characters have a pre-established voice, and it’s quite hard to grasp. However, I disagree with the general sentiment that first person is bad even outside of fanfiction; most of my favourite books ever are written in first person.

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

Because once I get an idea stuck in my mind, I can’t get rid of it unless I write it down. It’s like, I don’t know, setting the silly guys in your head free. I love writing, and fanfiction allows you to do so without the stress of striving for perfection or focusing too much on what other people will think. 

[mortumslab]

Remembering to be Human - Chapter 2

The second chapter of my rendition of Retribution into Revelations and Revolution. Hope you enjoy it!

tw: suicidal thoughts, ideations. Alcohol use.

Link to Chapter 1:

-

During the cab ride, you’d expected there to be only three outcomes. Death was the most attractive. Now, you suppose part of you dared hope to be held by Julia following a life-changing experience. 

“Jules… I’m sorry. For everything.” You’re not sure why you’re breaking the silence, but you need to understand what’s going to happen next. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She says softly, turning to you, running her hand down your back - shivers trail up your arms. “You only saw one option to bring them to heel. And I want to help.” 

She slowly gets up and finds two robes. You wonder, briefly, why she has two but suspect the answer would be as funny as it would be awkward. Donning the robe, with a flourish not unlike Heartbreak’s, Julia giggles. “You developed a flair for the dramatic, didn’t you.” 

Smiling softly, you reply, “Sidestep wasn’t much for the dramatics. Neither was she one to cause a scene. I needed to learn to do both to get my job done.”

“Your job…” She bites her lip in concentration as she leads you to the kitchen table. “What is your plan?” You did not expect to have this conversation today, but you’ve got nothing left to lose. And everything left to gain.

“I wanted to lead them to the Farm. To what the Directive is doing. The Director is above the current administration and beyond what is expected or tolerated.” You feel the anger suffusing you again. Righteous. Purposeful. Your crusade. “Begin by undermining the current establishment. I told Blaze, you, Chen, and anyone who would listen that the people you work for are the enemies. That you’re working for them.” You don’t blame her, and by her reaction to that, she knows you don’t. 

“I lead them to Deveraux. But there are still more mysteries to solve. When Los Diabolos is cleansed of those that favor the actions of the Farm, then I will take the fight to them. To finish this. Once and for all.” You feel like a warlord giving your final speech before a battle. Despite being naked in a bathrobe in your… girlfriend’s home. Another weird thought.

“Okay.” She says very simply. Which almost makes you laugh. “Then we need to start by bringing in the others.” She’s serious, and you know she’s right, but you flinch anyway.

“Danny… he’s not going to like this.” You know he’s not been the same since your battle. You hurt him in a way you never meant to. You meant to get killed, to be stopped. Charge just couldn’t do the job. And neither could Lady Argent.

“I know. And you’ll have to beg for his forgiveness. He idolizes Sidestep, but unless you apologize, he’ll be a loose end that we can’t tie up.” You know she means she won’t be able to help if not all the Rangers are on board. You expected as much.

“Then we’ll have to convince him my— our goals are worth it.” You see her smile at your slip. “I know there are documents that can help. I’ll get Dr. Mortum to draw them up for me. That’s another problem I need to solve.” You know you’re talking out loud, but everything is on the table now.

“What do you mean?” She frowns. “You work with Mortum, too? No wonder your armor is so powerful. And your disintegration powers… do they work like her gun?” You realize that no one knows about the neutered nanovores. And remember that Argent will be livid that you possessed her. Oh well, you have an idea to fix that. Not a good one.

You hesitate briefly, “I don’t have disintegration powers like that.” You’re not sure how to say it, but you were the hero of the Nanosurge, so it’s not like you don’t know what they’re capable of. “They’re actually neutered nanovores; it’s what I used Argent for back last year.” You realize she probably didn’t know about that, but her reaction tells you she suspected it. 

“Arya… you know how dangerous those are.” She’s not chiding you, more worried about your safety. The original creator of the nanovores was eaten by their own design. 

“I know. Mortum reprogrammed them. The casing on my left wrist - the one you almost destroyed,” you say with a small smile, “is where they’re housed. They don’t eat organic matter. And the Rat King and I control them.” Now she’s confused, it’s a funny expression.

“Rat… King?” She’s looking at you like you’ve become a victim of a Disney film. “wait… Blaze mentioned he felt like… like rats were talking to him when you nearly killed yourself after Deverauex.”

“Psychopathor’s gun runs off a weird psi-sensitive targeting system. It’s hard to explain, but I called this pentad of rat brains the Rat King, and he seems to like it.” You’re talking a little fast now because everything you say sounds ridiculous. “And when I called the Directive on him last year, I used them to remove the gun and take it.” She laughs suddenly, “That was you? But it was a deeper voice?” And now you have to spill that last bean.

“After Heartbreak I developed new powers… and I became an alpha-level telepath. I can control other people for a time. Though higher willpower makes it difficult. It doesn’t hurt them; just gives them a headache.” She looks a bit put off. But not upset. 

“Alpha-level.” She whispers softly. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. You nod but don’t say anything.

“So I need to speak with Mortum, get documents from Heartbreak, and probably let her into the fact that Eden was me all along.” You finish your sentence and realize Julia looks like someone smacked her.

It takes her a minute to process what you said. “No wonder we got along so well.” She sounds exasperated but in a ‘my girlfriend is insane’ and less of an ‘oh god, I fucked a villain.’ “I knew she was connected to you, but I didn’t… how does that work?”

"I found her in a coma 3 years ago. She was wasting away and brain-dead. No one coming for her. I saved her body; maybe one day I can save her mind. But with whatever Heartbreak did to me, it was very easy to operate her as though she were my own body." You feel your cheeks reddening. "I tried to avoid you, but you don’t let up easily.” You know she was probably onto Eden as your liaison.

“I knew she was connected to Heartbreak, but I wasn’t sure how. She— you kept dodging me so well.” You smile softly. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want to get her involved with you as well as Mortum. Things were, and are, getting so difficult.”

There’s a long silence. She’s thinking - not that you can see into her mind, but she’s biting her lip in a way that also furrows her brow. “So what do you need me to do?” 

“I need you to collect the Rangers, and I guess we need to discuss this. I can’t give up the villainy act or come out as Sidestep again. The Directive will be all over us and you guys can’t get caught up in this until we’re ready to completely bring it all down.” You’re serious, and you know she can tell. 

“So you’ll still have to be a villain to the public?” She’s worried, but you’re not. You have her now. 

“Yeah… for now. For now, operating on the underground gets me connections the Rangers cannot. And allies we may need. I know you’ve been hunting Hollow Ground and I plan to go for them as well.” You see a flicker in her face. It’s not the same anger, but… nervousness?

“What?” You ask.

She ignores that question, “I agree we’ll need the underground contacts. I guess it’s only a matter of how we still pretend to all be enemies. That is if Danny and Argent are willing to forgive you.”

“I agree, but why did you flinch when I said Hollow Ground.” You’re not letting her weasel out of it.

“When… when I first met you. God, this is gonna sound so dumb now. I had already seen Hollow Ground’s face. Well. At least this version. She’s the second one. The first one was her brother. This is the one who killed Hood. And when I saw your face. You both look so similar.” She’s not making any sense. You don’t know Hollow Ground. At all.

She’s still speaking, “—I looked into her and found her youngest sister. But she was reported dead. And I had suspected you were fleeing from their business. That was why you hid your face. I never suspected… the Re-Gene angle.” She doesn’t even stumble over the last part. You hide your affection with a swift look at the ground, biting your lip. You know the Farm uses genetics from viable, powerful boosts. Maybe Hollow Ground is partly your genetics? You repeat this to Julia.

She nods, “That would make sense. Both Hollow Grounds are immensely powerful. The name came from a geokinetic user, at first. The current one, I believe, is a telepath.” You understand now. Why no one knows Hollow Ground. “She’s erasing their memories. I can do it, I don’t, but I could.” 

“Okay, so… we collect the Rangers, and you’re going to go solve the issues with Mortum?” Julia looks excited to actually do something. Happier than she’s been in a long time, except maybe half an hour ago.

“I need to explain to her who Eden is and bring her into my confidence. At the very least try. Hopefully, she doesn’t shoot me or anything.” You’re half-joking, but she’s pulled a gun on you before.

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

“God no, imagine the former marshall and a dead hero showing up to meet her; she’d probably pull out some monster of a machine and obliterate us.” You start laughing at the idea. Laughter. The first belly laugh you’ve had since Heartbreak’s release - since your manic laughter at the gala. Except this is pure. 

Julia is laughing, too. The idiot. The lovely idiot.

You leave the apartment. A bit numb. It’s dark now, but inside you’re bright. You’re invincible. The hardest secrets you’ve kept are out, and it’s a relief. You knew being perceived as a villain was going to hurt. But you knew your enemies were on the side of angels. So you couldn’t be. You kept trying to get into the villain aesthetic but you never could. The only truly heinous things you’d done were hurting your friends. Though, at the time you had no idea the depths of their love for you. And, you admit, you wouldn’t have cared. Heartbreak scarred your emotions. Untied you from reality. Dissociation, like Dr. Finch said. Something that you managed to regain when you spilled to Jules. Parts of it, at least. Maybe the rest will recover when you finally have the Rangers on your side. Or when this is finally over.

You arrive back to the penthouse; Savannah looks up, readying herself to leave. 

“Good night,” you smile at her. She works late, but usually just takes contracts from people who need a former telepath to help them make deals. Your cover story.

Moving to your desk, you press the small button under the etched wood. In front of you, the wall shimmers and reveals your plans. Your board of civil unrest. Connections from Devereaux to Carter to the Mayor. To Hollow Ground and the folks she has purchased. Someone you probably share genetics with. You’ll have to deal with that soon.

Pulling out your phone you call Dr. Mortum, knowing she’ll still be awake.

“Hello, mon amie, what can I do for you?”

“Hey, I need to talk to you. Or, rather my Boss does.”

“In person… or…”

“Yes… there have been some… developments, and she needs to share some secrets.”

“Okay… where?”

“Joes is fine. She’ll be in armor, but she’ll want to talk privately inside the bar. She’s not going to hurt you. She doesn’t hurt innocent people.”

There’s a soft laugh, maybe slightly sarcastic. “Mon amie, I am anything but innocent.”

“You’re not the one she’s leading a crusade against.” 

“Very well. Tonight?”

“If possible, yes. In the next hour.”

“Will you be there?”

You swallow hard, “In spirit.” You try to make it sound light, but it probably sounds forced.

Now you don your armor, and without letting yourself overthink it, you make your way to the garage where Rosie hangs out till the late evening hours. She’s still here, and she gives you a weird look as you approach and, without hesitating, remove your helmet. Rosie’s eyes widen briefly before she says, “Holy shit, you’re Sidestep. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Good telepaths never stay dead.” You say though you wish sometimes you had. No, no time for those thoughts.

“I just… wow okay.” She takes a second to collect herself. “Why now? Why are you revealing yourself?” She’s asking the right questions, you’re glad you’ve trusted her.

“Because we’re about to make some serious progress and some dangerous, but reliable allies. You know I was a Ranger associate before I died?” She looks suspiciously at you, but then her eyes widen.

“You’re going to work with them?” She looks a little scared, maybe angry.

“In a sense. They’re going to be brought in on the plan because this plan requires us all working together. If we’re going to bring down the government, we need the ones with the power. And they trusted Sidestep.”

“So what do you need me to do?” You can tell she accepted that, that there was a reason her boss never killed. Almost an anti-hero. A vigilante.

“I need you to take me to Joes and then to Ranger HQ. If I don’t get killed at Joes first.” You’re going to just make this a big day. For everyone.

“Oh.” She looks nervous, but then shrugs and hops in the van.

You stop for a moment, breathe, and then, using your helmet HUD, send a message to Ortega to let her know you’re going to Mortum and then to the HQ.

She replies almost instantly, giving you butterflies; who is this person you’ve become? The message is short but sweet. 

“K. I have them assembled. They’re confused, but I told them we needed to trust you. I love you.” 

You respond with a heart emoji, not yet sure how to say it back, but swearing to yourself you’ll work on it. Your second thought is wondering why Mortum installed a messaging system with emojis into the HUD, but that’s neither here nor there.

You settle calmly in the back of the van, spreading your senses and assuring no one has noticed you. All is calm, for now. No dead spots to indicate the Special Directive is onto you. Though you’re going to be on their radar soon if you weren’t already. Heartbreak isn’t known as a telepath. Yet.

Arriving at Joes, you extend your awareness into the surrounding crowd. While there aren’t many people here, you need to be sure that no one means you any harm. Maybe you’re getting paranoid. Paranoia keeps you alive. It also kept you isolated from Julia. That’s a thought for later, this is now. You know the bar usually doesn’t cater to as popular villains as yourself, but you need to make a show for it. Mortum needs to believe you’re not some part of a Rangers plot - though that’s not entirely untrue now. She probably knows of Sidestep but doesn’t know Arya is Heartbreak.

You stride into the villain's entrance at Joes. The guards move swiftly out of your way. They haven’t had you here in this body, in this armor. Yet, they know you. You’re Heartbreak. Scourge of the Rangers, a danger to heroes and villains alike. But inside you’re nervous. Thankful for the mirrored helmet of Heartbreak, showing nothing of you underneath. 

You scan the room and notice Mortum sitting in the corner. She sees you. You’re hard to miss. The rest of the crowd parts way and you approach her table. 

“Good evening, Dr. Mortum.” You say, the voice modulator making you sound more like a comic book villain than ever before.

“Good evening, Madame Heartbreak.” Her voice is steely, but not hostile. She doesn’t appear to be armed. You curse softly, you’d said “she” over the phone. Oh well, too late now.

“I was hoping we could take this conversation somewhere private. Joes has a privacy room for these occasions.” 

“Very well, as long as there’s no second location.” She says this with a hint of a smile, but it’s predatory. It’s far different than anything she would give Eden.

You nod at Joe, who you know overheard you. He turns to a second door towards the right of the bar. It slides open and reveals a private cocktail room. You had called ahead while suiting up to make sure it was free.

Settling yourself down into a chair, you wait for the good doctor to seat herself across from you.

“Do you two want anything?” Joe looks nervous but maintains his composure in front of a big-time villain.

“Just a bottle of whiskey, the stuff Eden likes,” you say.

“Very good,” and he shuts the door; you hear the hiss of the locking as it becomes secure and soundproof. 

Mortum is watching you. Even though the dampeners are active in this room, you can see her processing. 

“So the suit is to your liking?” She finally breaks the silence. 

“Yes, it is everything and more.” You know there’s a lilt of sadness to your voice. This partnership might soon end. You’re not sure if the modulator masks it well or not. Apparently not as Mortum looks slightly less comfortable.

“So, the suit is not what brought us here then?” She sounds nervous but the doctor never was one to back down.

“No.” And you watch as Joe returns with the bottle and two glasses, bowing slightly before returning through the door. No more distractions. No more hesitations.

You reach up to flick the release mechanism of the helmet. It hisses slightly as it powers down. Your heart is racing, and you’re thankful she isn’t boosted. At least you don’t think she is. You hope she doesn’t know how anxious this is making you.

Taking the helmet off you fix your braid of silvery hair and drape it loosely over your shoulder. You can see your reflection on the mirrored helm. Your face angular and pale. Your eyes sharp, grey and tired. Your cheekbones high, with some moisture from the helmet. 

“Arya Svitkona.” Mortum whispers. You can see her running the numbers. Crunching the data.

“Dr. Mortum, I… I’m happy to meet you in person.” You’re not sure about this plan. If Mortum no longer wishes to work together, you’ll have to gather information on Heartbreak on your own. And you’ll lose a best friend. You need to remember what it’s like to be human because, until today, you were slipping.

“As am I, mon cherie.” She looks at you suspiciously. You suppose you never told her what this meeting was about.

“I… I’m not sure where to start on this.” Your mask slips; you should probably remain strong, but you feel tears. When did you become sappy?

“At the beginning?” She suggests, with a hint of a smile. Maybe a nervous smile, but a smile. Villains probably don’t break into tears around her often.

“Eden and I are… are the same.” You know that probably doesn’t clear anything up. You should have rehearsed this.

“What… what does that mean?” 

“I am an alpha-level telepath.” You begin. This shouldn’t be this hard. “And after my apparent death at Heartbreak,” pausing to smile at the name you chose for yourself, “I gained the ability to control bodies. But, usually, it’s difficult if they’re at all conscious or on guard. I found Eden in the hospital 3 years ago. She was in a coma and wasting away. I was able to save her body, but not her mind.” You pause. Mortum is enraptured. “And as a former hero, I can’t just walk around in this skin - you even knew my name. So I used Eden as a go-between.” And here comes the hard part. “But when I met you, I didn’t realize I’d find more than business associations. That I’d find a best friend.”

Mortum looks stunned for a moment. You had flirted with her at first but quickly broke that off when you realized what you felt for Julia. But Mortum and Eden had a close friendship.

“Well… that’s certainly something.” She looks upset for a moment but then looks back at you and asks, “Best friends don’t make the habit of lying to one another.” There it is. The betrayal. 

“I… being Sidestep, I couldn’t show myself in a bar like this. Not until I was established. And… and there’s another reason I used Eden. I wanted to feel human, just for a little bit. And not have to worry… worry about…” At this point, a sob racks your body. Just for a second before you calm yourself.

“Mon cherie?” She actually seems worried. Why is no one responding as they should today? First Julia now Mortum. Humans are odd. 

You press the release on your left glove. It hisses softly, like the helmet. Taking it off, you flex your fingers and then roll up the nanofiber mesh. Revealing the orange tattoos in the light.

“Oh…” Mortum is, again, speechless. You have a knack for it, you suppose.

“A cuckoo,” is all you can say. It’s pretty sufficient for an explanation.

“I need a moment.” She sits back and takes a large drink of her whiskey, downing three fingers in a single swallow.

You sit there. Staring at the woman who became a confidante. At the person with whom you shared many, many evenings with. Laughing. Existing. Being human.

"So you have been masquerading around in... in Eden, but instead I have been talking to you? To Arya?" She looks confused still, but not angry. Good. 

"Yes. And I told you I hated lying to you. The friendship we had was real. And I understand if you need time. Your friendship is more important to me than any business we have.” You pause for a moment, before pressing on.

“I had something to ask of you but this needed to be on the table first." You know the business with Heartbreak is important, but you also need to keep this friendship. For yourself as much as for the survival of Heartbreak's career. 

"I'll need a few days... but I think I'll be okay." She doesn't look angry. Mostly tired. "What was it that you needed?" You must have piqued her curiosity.

"I'm moving forward with my plans a little differently than I intended... and I need information on the Heartbreak incident." Your voice breaks at the end. It’s different when it’s your name. 

"On... Heartbreak... you know as well as I do, mon cherie, that it's been sealed and covered up. I suppose I don't get to know why this is needed?" Now is the time to test how far you're willing to go. You suppose you might as well be honest. 

"I'm going to convince the Rangers to join me in taking down the people responsible for the  Special Directive, those responsible for Heartbreak. Those who get away with oppression on a grand scale." Your anger breaks through. Fortifying your words. Good. You sound far more confident than the Arya from earlier. 

"That's... certainly a plan." She looks genuinely stunned."Very well. I will send you what I know when I get to my office. I knew about Sidestep’s— your death. So, I collected what I knew in case things were locked down. Which they were."

"Thank you. Seriously." You have no idea how to show your sincerity. "I will leave you to your thoughts then. Keep the bottle. I'll tell Joe to leave you be."

She's quiet for a moment while you put your helmet and glove back on. The world becomes safer as you slip into another mask. 

"Arya?" She sounds worried. You don’t turn around. "Please don't get yourself killed." And then she goes silent. Lost in thought. 

You hesitate for a moment before exiting into the main room. The crowd again parting for Heartbreak. You growl slightly at two men getting rough over the quantum slots. The modulator makes you sound effectively intimidating. You reach the parking lot without any further confrontations.

"Hey!" A voice behind you tears you from your thoughts. 

A well-dressed man with sharp features, maybe Asian inheritance, strides up to you. A little too quickly. Turning you raise to your full height, about a head over him. 

“Yes?” You try to act passive and uncaring, but you know Jake Manalo. And you know who he works for. Hollow Ground.

“I have a message for you from my boss.” You wonder what prompted this. Sure you’ve been causing issues. Stealing from her network. Umbral’s cash usually gets sent to her. Now, it’s dispersed amongst charities in Los Diabolos. You don’t think you’ve intentionally slighted her. Not yet, at least.

“What is it?” Act mysterious; you’re good at it. You did it for years as Sidestep. Julia is the only one who truly knows you. Well. Julia and Mortum. You see Mortum’s car pull out from behind the bar. The car sticks out in a place like this.

“A letter.” He reaches into his jacket pocket; you know he’s only reaching for a letter. Heartbreak’s telepathy remains a hidden and useful factor. Though you feign tension, anyway. Dramatic as always. 

You take the letter as he hands it to you. Your helm never leaves his line of sight, though your eyes flit to the letter. It simply says ‘Heartbreak.’

“Anything else?” You need to get going, but a personal message from Hollow Ground before you’re to meet with the Rangers - people who don’t even believe in the kingpin’s existence - is quite the luck.

“Just that they want you to remember your true allies.” He says this without a hint of irony or even a knowing look. His mind reads that he truly is delivering a message and doesn’t know exactly what or why. He may be the kingpin’s right-hand man, but he’s not in the know about this. It might be precautionary against unknown adversaries. Or maybe Hollow Ground knows you’re a telepath. 

Right now, however, you remain as though you’re not sure what he’s talking about. Because, truthfully, you’re not. You’ve yet to make any true allies besides Rosie and your other relationships are still rocky. Even if Julia loves you. And though you love her, your despair and isolation are creeping back. You need to get moving.

Without a response, you turn and redirect Manalo’s thoughts elsewhere. You know it worked when he’s distracted by a car horn. By the time he looks for you again, you’re gone. Telepathy makes for a good exit. 

Climbing into the van, Rosie gives you a strange look. You don’t remove your helmet this time. Too many eyes. Instead, you tell her to drive you to the Ranger HQ. It’s time to come clean.

You know you’ve kept the Rangers waiting for a while, which doesn’t make the best first impression. But you didn’t expect to be accosted by Hollow Ground’s lackey first.

After scanning the letter, you open it in the streetlights as the van speeds to the city center. 

Heartbreak,

I believe it is time we met in person. I have some interesting information for you.

Come alone. Tuesday at 9 P.M. 1343 East Coast View Dr. Los Diabolos.

Hollow Ground

Interesting. It’s not an address you recognize, but it’s also not commercial. It’s residential. And your HUD in your helmet tells you it’s a large villa overlooking the ocean. Further, she doesn't specify whether you are to wear your armor. You will, obviously, but it’s an odd omission. Purposeful? Likely. But why? Is it to draw you out and take you out? In street clothes you’re unknown. In armor, you’re a target. How the tables turn. You feel as though you’re the prey. No. That will not happen. When you’ve dealt with the Rangers, you’ll deal with this. You’ll have to figure it out quickly because tomorrow is Tuesday.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice your arrival at the HQ until Rosie rouses you. 

“Circle around back and let me out. Then find yourself a safe spot to wait until I call for you.” You know you sound more like a boss than a friend, but you know she would rather come with you.

“Boss— I don’t know if that’s—“ 

“Please, I don’t want you to get arrested or killed if they’re less than amenable to a partnership.” You know you’re not being entirely honest. The only person who could die tonight is you. And, still, that doesn’t really faze you.

“Okay, alright.” She acquiesces. She turns the vehicle and circles to an alley behind the building. Letting you out you check your surroundings and know no one is watching you. At least from outside the building. However, you know there are cameras on the corners of this building. Avoiding them until the last possible moment will be best. 

You quickly shoot Julia a message.

“Here. Wearing armor. Going to come in hot.”

An immediate response.

“Wait. What? No. Come in as Arya.”

But you’ve already made your decision. You’re coming in as Heartbreak. You hope Julia’s reasoning for gathering them was subtle. But you doubt it. Maybe they expect Arya and your sudden arrival will make your reveal a little more believable. Of course, why wouldn’t they believe it? The only two who might be still in the dark are Argent… and Daniel. Daniel is going to be tricky. Ask for forgiveness rather than for permission. You only pray that— BEEP.

A notification on your HUD startles you. Not Julia this time, but she did leave you a string of concerned messages, mixed with expletives. This is an email, from Mortum. How on earth did she get your private email? Another problem for another day. Those keep stacking up. The email has an attachment, simply “Heartbreak.” You don’t imagine it’s titled after your villainous identity. 

Taking a final deep breath, you aim your grappling hook, the Rat King helping check your surroundings for signs of trouble and cameras. It would be a poor plan if the Directive saw you breaking into the Rangers HQ. The hook launches. The building is far from the tallest in Los Diabolos but taller than the ones around it. Though it’s no more than a few floors. When you lost to Blaze, your hook went at least 5 floors. Lost. Hah. You never realized that was a loss till now. You let yourself go. Nearly worked, too. 

The hook finds purchase, you hear the whirring of the suit, and you’re tugged at such a rapid speed you feel your stomach get left behind. Launching six feet over the lip of the roof, your cape flutters around you. Dramatic as always. You find the entrance to the floor below and jimmy the lock. Time to enter the hornet’s nest.

Scanning the area around you, you note several things all at once. One, you were too caught up in your thoughts - stupid. Two, no alarms go off, and no dampeners flick on. Three, there are far more than the four Rangers here tonight. In total, you count six. Two of them are the last people you expected to be in attendance. 

You creep down the stairs, knowing from your time spent here that the meeting room is just below the roof - for quick access, you’re told. You overhear voices - talking about you, about Arya.

“Why did you call us here again, Ortega?” Argent is speaking. Her voice carried a lilt of impatience. But curiosity innundates it. 

“Because Arya has vital information to tell us,” Julia responds, sounding too worried for someone who’s talking about a former associate. 

Taking one last final breath, you redirect the attention of all six to the elevator on the opposite side of the room, furthest from the stairwell. It doesn’t make a sound, but when their attention is away from the table, you move. Dashing silently, you present yourself in front of the table and wait for the eyes to settle back on you. 

Time to face the consequences of your actions.

[poems-of-a-lover]

This is in regards to that post you made today, about anon messages. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place and I don't really know where to turn.

Basically, I was born into a very controlling religion, probably borderline cult known as Jehovah's Witnesses. They believe they have the "truth", and that they need to remain separate from the "world" as Jesus supposedly commanded because the end/apocalypse could come at any time and they need to stay away from Satan.

I'm 17 now, about to start my last year of high school this fall and I'm a gay trans man (very much not to the knowledge of my family). My best friend since sixth grade is also trans, and I'm surrounded by lots of queer people (I live in a more accepting area/state). Thankfully, my parents were not in the position to homeschool my siblings and I, even though they had been considering it.

However, all these details lead me to a fork in the road.

A principle of this religion's foundation is preaching the "good news", from the youngest age a person is at any sort able to participate, spending their Saturday mornings every week going around neighborhoods and attempting to convert any and everyone they can.

I've been struggling along for the last 5-7 years or so since I mentally fell out of the religion's traps. However, once I turn 18 I have to commit myself to the religion, which I am in no favor of doing so.

Counting down the months, I find myself stuck in what direction to go, come out to my family (not in the queer sense yet, but rather just saying I don't believe in it anymore) and risk losing them entirely, or stay stuck in a place that is making every attempt to subdue and oppress me into a pretty, feminine, docile girl. I'll lose my mind if I have to stay in here any longer than I absolutely have to, but I don't know how to leave.

I'll turn 18 before I graduate, and I don't know what will happen past then. How do I take care of legal documents, doctors, college, those sorts of things (that part is largely rhetorical). My best friend has offered to take me in if/when I need it, and I think he said his parents/living-in family was alright with it (he's told them about me and my living situation), but I don't want to burden him cause he has his own issues--that's the same reason I'm writing this to you rather than asking him for help/advice again.

I hope you can find it in you read all of that, I'm sorry its so long but I felt it was necessary to fully explain it all. Also I wanted to thank you for your blog, I know there's not really any point to that but it's nice to read and see when I'm feeling down, it helps me feel validated in my identity. Have a good day/night/whatever's going on.

first off, im so, sorry that ur stuck in a position like this. u shouldn't have to be stuck in that type of position with those outcomes and those losses, and i really hope ur able to get out of there safely soon. i know it seems like it might be a burden on ur friend to take up his offer, like ur imposing or taking advantage or whatever reason, but if that's the safest option, i definitely recommend it. at least until ur able to come up with a more permanent/long term plan, it's good to have a safe place with people who respect u. ofc i don't know what it's like to be in a religious family like that, so my advice is from the perspective of someone who doesn't know it firsthand, but i feel like forcing urself to ignore ur identity for the sake of someone else's beliefs and comfortability will just cause more harm than good. i do hope ur able to live ur life the way u want, without having to water down or oppress ur identity for the sake of others. it will get better, maybe not now or soon, but eventually. if u ever need to talk about anything else, my inbox is always available for things like this!! and im so glad u find comfort in my blog, ive gotten that from a few ppl actually, that seeing queerness and loving men in a positive and safe light is helpful. again, if u ever need anything, my inbox is open <3

[cwarscars]

FROM: Kunsel Zantos, SOLDIER OPERATIVE 2C ( @sentmail ) TO: Director Heidegger, HEAD OF PUBLIC SECURITY ( cwarscars ) SUBJECT: Regarding the planned budget cuts...

With all due respect, I would consider against imposing the new haircut policies — just the haircuts, the uniforms ones are fine and I am one hundred percent behind getting everyone else to follow regulation as firmly as I do.

Why do I say this? Multiple reasons.

1) SOLDIER's current individualized fashion sense is a brand of the Shin-Ra corporation, and I can only imagine that you'll be dealing with a lot of pushback from the marketing departments. It is this chance for "individuality" that drives a lot of SOLDIER program registrations.

2) Which leads to the next point: I'm sure someone as detail oriented as you would have noticed the strictness of all other SOLDIER regulations — these are all imposed by the Science Department, and already deal with a considerable ammount of pushback when they are in fact mandated in order to limit possible health complications related to the mako enhancements. You may impose the regulations, but you may also find it hard to actually enforce them if you can't provide good enough reasoning as to why.

3) SOLDIER is a den of monsters, and one such monster currently appeased is vanity. I am not saying that some people would snap at having to cut their hair, but I will also not say that's not a possibility. We are talking about men and women quite literally told they are above mere men, and the more dramatic of us will take it literally and expect special treatment in favor of being Shin-Ra's sword and shield and being subjected to the hands of the Science Department.

3.5) There is a chance of retribution and rebellion, is what I'm saying. Yes, over hair. I could give you a resumed list of past such petty rebellions from having worked with the last Director of SOLDIER.

I'm only stepping in to leave my two cents as someone who's worked in the SOLDIER tutorial program which you have since discontinued, I know a lot of people, and I know how said lot will react to these changes.

Best Regards, Kunsel Reis de la Costa Zantos SOLDIER OPERATIVE SECOND CLASS

This email is confidential!

he glances at the email, a lazy look of eyes crusading through words as if not to read an 'important' document but rather a 'where's wally' book. he searches each paragraph for something that will stick out enough to snatch his interest. unfortunately for heidegger ( and kunsel, though he'd not know it ) the general's interest wanes fairly fast.

a thought crosses his mind regarding the policy - a funny thought of SOLDIERs rebelling after having their annual buzz cuts. a bunch of bald boys running amock of the building. odin, it's enough to make a man smile. the ridiculousness of it. they were SOLDIERs, no?

and though points raised are good enough for the man to have sent an email, heidegger is immediate to dismiss it - a wave of his hand and a flush of his nostrils. a scoff because lords know, he's better things to do. better things to do like catch sight of himself in the reflective surface of a photo near his desk. admire the style of his hair and cut of his beard, brows ( freshly groomed - though that's a secret! ). a smile weaving across his face. well, when he was young he'd donned short hair and a little stubble. can't hurt anyone else that badly can it?

as he preps to write a response, heidegger slips fingers through the well-groomed strands of his beard, admires himself a little more before hands clasp the keyboard of his computer.

FROM: Director Heidegger, HEAD OF PUBLIC SECURITY TO: Kunsel Zantos, SOLDIER OPERATIVE 2C ( //sentmail ) SUBJECT: Regarding the planned budget cuts...

I do not recall sending an email asking for your 'two cents' on the matter.

Do you have any work to do currently? Or would you like me to send you some?

Regarding the matters raised, I will be consulting with Director Lazard later today. While he answers for the number of SOLDIER currently bemoaning their positions and betraying the company, he can also answer the incredibly important question surrounding hair-care. :-)

Kind Regards, 

Director Heidegger, HEAD OF PUBLIC SECURITY. 

he’s close to hitting send before a thought crosses the mind, lips broken by the white of fangs - the smallest chuckle under his breath. why assure ( or deride ) anybody when he could make them sweat instead? he manages his desktop, searches his screen for a familiar email. erases his last and goes again. 

FROM: Director Heidegger, HEAD OF PUBLIC SECURITY TO: Kunsel Zantos, SOLDIER OPERATIVE 2C ( //sentmail ) SUBJECT: Regarding the planned budget cuts...

Thank you for the email; I am currently out of the office, but will have a secretary respond to your email at the soonest possible date. 

If it is urgent, please call [ xxx-xxx-xxxx ]. If it is not urgent, email again in [ 7 days ] time. 

Kind Regards,

Director Heidegger, HEAD OF PUBLIC SECURITY.

of course, the phone number is a dud and the general is sat sipping a coffee at his desk with a wide grin on his lips. 

gosh, fancy sephiroth with a buzz cut ! hilarious stuff! 

[nel-world]

hi

As Nick rehearses, his phone rings. His boss demands that he work an urgent shift This is a good conflict that paints the “problem” of his work life balance. It further details information about Nick that the audience can understand and sympathize with.

At work, Nick’s boss berates him for being late and assigns him flyer distribution.

Nick forgot something he needs for work (truck keys, uniform, paperwork, etc.) that could create a understandable frustration and create a further conflict for Nick. I could see this work-life balance problem shown here again, where if Nick needed to bring important documents but accidentally packed his script that he was rehearsing. This could then lead to Nick’s boss lecturing him about his acting, and tell him he needs to focus on his work. MR. CARTER (Sarcastic) Of course. You know what? Forget the report — take these flyers and start handing them out.

NICK (Frustrated) Flyers? But I thought—

MR. CARTER (Interrupts) Thought you’d be doing the important stuff? Maybe if you showed up on time.

(Nick fumbles in his bag, then freezes, realizing he doesn’t have what he needs. He pulls out a script instead.)

MR. CARTER (Sighs, grabs the script) Really, Nick? You’re bringing scripts to work now?

NICK It was an accident. I meant to grab the report—

MR. CARTER Focus on the job you’re paid for. Or find somewhere else to rehearse.

While driving truck, Nick gets another call from his boss, demanding he handle an urgent task, adding more stress to Nick's life.

What is this task? How does it add more stress to Nick’s life? Show that Nick has an audition, or even a call back to The Hess Show that he doesn’t want to miss. Create tension and debate for Nick where he needs to make choice to achieve what he “wants”.

NICK Hello?

MR. CARTER (Sharp) Nick, change of plans. I need you at the main office — now. There’s a VIP shipment that needs a personal handoff. This has to be handled immediately.

NICK (Grips the wheel) I’m kind of in the middle of a delivery. Can’t someone else handle it?

MR. CARTER Don’t start with me. This isn’t up for debate. You’ve got thirty minutes to get here, or I’ll find someone who can actually be relied on.

(Nick winces, torn. He glances at his watch — just an hour until his callback for The Hess Show.)

NICK (Under his breath) Thirty minutes…

(He checks his GPS, calculating if he could possibly make it to the audition afterward, but the math isn’t in his favor.)

MR. CARTER Nick? You got that? This is a priority, got it?

NICK Yeah. Got it. I’ll… be there soon.

(He hangs up, his shoulders slumping as he stares out at the road, the weight of his decision sinking in.)

Nick argues with his boss over misplaced flyers, losing his temper. His boss threatens to fire him if he doesn’t comply with orders.

This further amplifies the conflict in Nick’s life. Don’t forget though about The Hess Show tape and Nick’s fire abilities. Those moments feel like the inciting incident of the story, and we should be “breaking into two” at this point. We need to see Nick “go” on his journey to achieve what he “wants” after making a decision that he cannot go back from. This could be Nick quitting his job after landing the audition, or Nick quitting his job before landing the audition. Show Nick make a choice to progress his acting career that “ends” his “old world”.

boss (without even looking up) How's the comedy career? Are you a famous stand-up yet? ARTHUR Not quite. Haven't even performed yet. Just been working my material. This business is all about finetuning. Now Hoyt looks up. Takes a drag from his cigarette. boss Right. Arthur goes to sit down-- boss Don't sit. This will be quick. Arthur stops in his tracks. boss Look, I like you, Arthur. A lot of the guys here, they think you're a freak. But I like you. I don't even know why I like you. (MORE) I mean, you don't say much. (beat) It's probably that stupid laugh. It gets me every time. Kills me. Unsure how to respond, Arthur just nods. HOYT But I got another complaint. And it's starting to piss me off. Arthur takes a deep breath, and just smiles. HOYT Kenny's Music. The guy said you disappeared. Never even returned his sign. ARTHUR No. I got jumped. Didn't you hear? HOYT For a sign? Bullshit. It makes no sense, just give him his sign back. He's going out of business for god's-- ARTHUR (interrupting) Why would I keep his sign? HOYT (snaps) How the fuck do I know, why does anybody do anything? Listen, if you don't return the sign I gotta take it outta your paycheck, you clear?

[keshimasu]

katsuki is dressed for a workout-of course he is, the kid wanted to beat all might and no one did that by sleeping in. shouta should have remembered he was one of the few up so early. he'd started pushing himself at around the same age. but the student in front of him doesn't need to catch up to the rest of class. wait. there was no need to go through the kitchen to exit dorms. had he left a trace of sorts? something to lead blond straight to him like breadcrumb trail? except for food, he realizes blearily. and the blood he'd tracked in that he doesn't remember running through.

bloodshot eyes blink as slow as brain moves. sluggish. slow reaction time. something hot flashes past pale face as he registers that he's not being given the bottle back. as if the adult in the room is incapable of holding it. it would probably spill and he was going to shower anyway which would take care of any sticky remains but he wouldn't drop it. hard gaze narrows even further in case his annoyance is unclear. difficult to chug the whole damn thing like he wants to.

maybe that's a good thing. lips pull away in a swear. there's still dark at the base of his nails, observed from the quiet distance heroes often needed to push through violent horrors. nails connect to fingers connect to hand which goes for his phone. hindsight says shouta should have fumbled his way into an emergency room if for nothing other than documentation. no, the past argues, couldn't risk it. why hadn't tsukauchi made him? it was beneficial to have a medical report on hand for the case against him, not a case an investigation. altered states could make people act out of character. killing should be out of character for a hero.

the screen is blurry and touch of cold has him stilling. damn, he'll have to remember to give katsuki serious commendation for this later. there was a difference between treating fake victims in an exam and very real ones. ones who were supposed to be coherent and in charge and old enough to have their shit together. cool is pleasantly clearing even if he shivers against it. should have changed out of damp clothes. . .he has to remember to restock his own fridge so this doesn't happen again.

that's his title. that gets his attention. peels drooping eyelids back and straightens spine that would love nothing more than to fold over to the floor and sleep there. right. phone. he's calling in all kinds of favors tonight. "hang on-" even in the dark with double vision, sharp eyes can recognize when someone plans to move. katsuki has that braced look to him.

he loathes the position the situation every single thing about this that so clearly states he fucked up bad enough to rely on a person over a decade younger than him. fine. then the kid can handle this too. shouta none too gently presses phone into student's free hand, still aware enough to keep feet under and steady-ish under him. because even if he's somewhat sure katsuki could dead lift him it would still be awkward and unwieldly.

"i'm not gonna keel over," he prefaces and defends his state. "call recovery girl for me. tell her i just need a rapid work up and she has my permission to share the results with...any necessary parties." no one, especially not one under his care, needed to know the details. it was an accident. self defense. asshole had it coming. shouta just needed to cover all his bases while he still could. he's trying to be logical.

logical is the exact opposite of what adrenaline soaked thoughts want to be. fingers brush the wall to guide them. door opens easily he must have left it unlocked in his haste to find a drink. mouth tastes unpleasantly like sour sweet banana. shouta stands awkwardly in the doorway. a completely irrational response to being faced with his own room. his desk splayed with papers to be graded his bed with it's soft dark sheets and several pillows. an extra set of boots sit by the foot of it.

he wonders if he's still flaking blood off black. wonders if he'd contaminated the dorm with crime scene. even for all the year's trauma, the class is still too young to be faced with such blatant realities like death. murder. not if their teacher can help it. "'m good...lemme-lemme change and i'll deal with shit."

early bird gets the worm and katsuki is always pretty hungry; by four in the morning, he's up and ready to face the day — a quick one-two jab and cross in the mirror, a hand brushing through an overgrown field of honey wheat, and he's off to brush his teeth ( die ya damn plaque! ). cold water splashing over his face removes the sand from the corners of his eyes and a wet hand towel draped over the back of his neck kills off whatever sleep still lingered.

he sleeps in whatever clothes he's going to work out in that day, which saves him a few precious minutes, so he's out the door in less than ten. before he can hit the gym, he has to go munch on that worm, a grumbling stomach reminding him that he's human and not a continuous machine like he so often thinks.

the elevator dings its arrival to the ground floor. metal doors open to welcome katsuki to a corridor flooding in silver. the moonlight dripping through the windows creates dancing shadows in its wake that flicker like ripples across a still pond. a cherry half-lidded gaze follows the curls and undulating lanes of phantoms as they shift in their dance within that ethereal haze.

katsuki steps foot into that gleaming inundation, and a quiver tickles the underside of his gut; immediately he stops in his tracks.

fuck was that?

the quiver travels from an empty gut up his spine, turning itself to frost — the damp towel still clinging from his neck suddenly feeling unbearably cold and heavy as the crystallization continues to run up his back, causing his movements to run jagged, slow. only his eyes move freely; they study the room, unsure of what they are looking for but knowing there is something that needs finding. they've been through enough to know better than to ignore this hunch.

katsuki finally manages to move his feet when red spots red smeared along the floor, brows furrowing as a narrowed gaze moves from one drop to another, the pin in his pupil piecing the cherry in his eye so that its nectar spills, intermixing with the matching stains that create a trail for him to follow. so he does.

cautious steps lead him to the kitchen, ‟ old man? ”

well, this wasn't at all what he was expecting — the ice that coats the tense muscles of his neck and back quickly melt, waters turning to a boil that help him move again.

he has learned to keep calm under pressure, yet the young hero can't help but move frantically. an explosive hand quickly taking the bottle thrust at him; he unscrews the cap and hands it over, though he keeps a tight grip on the bottom of the bottle, to help keep it steady as aizawa takes a drink. katsuki takes note of how badly the other seems to be trembling, as well as the sweat collecting at their temple, waves of raven feathers once so lively, now stick to his teachers forehead, limp and sticky.

katsuki has never been good at this whole givin' a fuck thing; extending his hand has always been difficult, no matter who was within its reach, yet having to see one who he admires in such a state of vulnerability ( birdcage wide open, trusting the claw of the cat to enter its space ) urges him forward. a free hand takes the damp towel from around his neck so he may run it across the hero's forehead, dabbin' up the sweat and hoping the coolness of its touch helps to soothe.

an intense gaze studies the man before him; he doesn't bother to ask if he's hurt, instead taking it upon himself to find out — his gaze falls along the others frame, searching for any marks of injury. eventually landing on the others shoes, the scarlet flaked along their surface catching his attention like a siren.

katsuki is able to gather that the blood didn't come from aizawa; which does little to relief / head snaps back up so that ruby may clash with onyx — ‟ oi, sensei. ”

he mutters, stern tone helping to hide the fact he was absolutely shittin' himself. he takes the towel and moves it to rest atop of his teachers head / other hand removing the bottle from his lips and placing it on the floor. he wants to ask what happened ( who's fuckin' blood is that..? ), but knows that's not what matters most right now. so instead he moves to settle himself underneath aizawa's left arm, so that his weight rested mainly upon katsuki's shoulders.

‟ we gotta getcha outta here. ”

slowly beginning to walk out of the kitchen and into the darkened hall, katsuki makes sure he isn't the one leading, still giving that right to his sensei as they make their way down the hall towards his room — he'll make sure to come back down to clean up the blood before anyone else wakes up.

[whump-cravings]

The Royal Three - Exchange

Masterlist

~950 words | Original Work

Content: minor whumpee (17), royal whump, power dynamics, self sacrifice, proposition for a future dubcon age-gap sexual relationship, crude sexual language

"Prince Baltar," the general greeted, waving Lieutenant Sumul away. "I wasn't expecting you today; we're quite busy preparing for tomorrow. What—"

"Take me instead," Baltar blurted.

Dreth paused, briefly favoring the prince with a thoughtful look. Then his attention returned to the documents in his hand. "No."

The blunt refusal felt like a slap in the face. "No?"

The general's mouth lilted upward in amusement. "Have you forgotten the meaning of the word?"

Baltar's cheeks heated as his hands clenched. "Why n-not?"

"How would such an exchange benefit me or my country?"

"I would be your willing hostage," Baltar said. "Hakon will never stop fighting you."

"He can fight all he likes. Do you think it wise for Vall to reinstate a monarch who has refused to yield?" Dreth leaned back in his seat, fixing Baltar with his cool gaze.

"Y-you could—you could make it a condition of his return that Rohisa retains leadership," the prince argued, a sweat building. He hadn't come prepared for a debate, hadn't considered that it might matter to Dreth which of the siblings he held. What a foolish oversight.

"Official agreements wouldn't prevent him or your sister from conspiring against Vall, would they?"

Baltar felt himself shaking with the strain of the tension in his shoulders. There had to be something he could say. All of the words were there in his mind; he simply had to put them in the correct order to convince this man that he was the favorable choice.

The answer was staring him in the face. "Th-this is about Hakon's refusal to surrender?" he asked, letting out a long breath. "If you have me, he will surrender. You know very well by now that we are each other's weaknesses."

Dreth was smiling again. "Indeed. But the answer is still no."

Anger shook the prince now. "Do you toy with m-me, sir?"

"You've detailed why your proposal would not be actively detrimental to Vall. I have yet to hear how it would be beneficial."

"Given the barest opportunity, Hakon w-will escape," Baltar said fervently. "He will kill. If you—"

"I won't give him that opportunity," Dreth interrupted, expression turning serious. "I'm well aware of your brother's capabilities. One thing that can be said for him, however, is that his magical abilities are easy to suppress. You, on the other hand, carry enough magic around to level a small city or so I'm told. How do I know this isn't a ploy to destroy the best of Vall's forces?"

"I wouldn't—!" Baltar started, then reined himself back by force of will, shutting his objection behind gritted teeth. That was a reasonable suspicion; he wouldn't trust an enemy to keep their word, either. "I would empty my reserves if that would satisfy you, and allow myself to be locked away in silver manacles or a cage."

"A cage, hm?" Dreth mused almost to himself, glancing Baltar up and down. As the prince flushed, the general continued, "Let me ask you this: what can you offer me that I can't already get from your brother?"

What can I offer...? Baltar stared at the general, feeling asinine for thinking Dreth might consider him and Hakon an even trade. Coming to the table without contingencies planned was a critical blunder that could lead to being easily manipulated into an unfavorable deal.

Stop, he chided himself. Focusing on his errors would waste precious mental energy he needed to solve this problem: What did Dreth want? The man enjoyed inflicting pain, certainly, but Baltar couldn't beat Hakon in ability to withstand punishment nor did he want to, though he'd been well aware he was handing himself over to Dreth to be hurt.

There has to be something. If Dreth thought Baltar had nothing to offer, he would have said as much. Unless he was just fucking with Baltar, the fact that he asked meant there was something he would accept, something that Baltar could do.

The dye in Dreth's hair drew the prince's attention, reminding him once more of the man's vanity. Abruptly, an idea came to Baltar and his mouth was moving before he could think it through.

"You haven't been fucking him, have you?" He flushed, shutting his mouth.

The general cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. "He hasn't invited me to, and I do pride myself on being a gentleman."

"Th-then..." Baltar said, the heat in his face traveling to his ears and neck. "Is that something y-you'd... be interested in? From me, in—in exchange for Hakon?"

Lacing his fingers together, Dreth considered Baltar with a neutral expression. As the silence wore on, the prince studied the ground. Had he insulted Dreth with the offer? What did the man think of him now, selling himself off like that?

"You're a bit young," he said, and despair pressed on the prince's shoulders. Of course the man had standards.

"But," the man said while leaning back and Baltar clung to the syllable with hope and bated breath, "I rather enjoy the idea of your brother's face when he discovers I'm bending you over."

The phrasing and images it conjured, particularly when coupled with himself, were as embarrassing as they were distasteful. But if he made this deal, he would eventually hear plenty worse. And Hakon... yes, he would be furious. Rohisa, too, but perhaps more understanding. As for the Irondan court, and most likely Vall's as well, Baltar would lose credibility the moment the relationship became public; he'd be a joke.

But Ironda needed Hakon more than it did Baltar. He squared his shoulders.

"I'll m-meet you tomorrow morning with my things."

taglist: @emcscared-whumps @nabanna  @whumpy-writings

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 9/2021) -        New Citizens

Ponk has a chat with Sam, Fundy and Purpled officially join Las Nevadas, and Ranboo receives an update message from the Council.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Fundy

Purpled

Ranboo

---

- Ponk continues building the bridge in his new valley

- He returns to Foolish’s summer home and finds the countersuit Puffy left. He reads it. Many of the claims he doesn’t think are actually against the law of the land. He insists he wasn’t quoting Roadtrip during his Banquet speech, but rather an old man

- Ponk will have the best lawyers (he also may pay the jury off but don’t tell anyone). He’s amused that Puffy would work with BadBoyHalo and call Ponk the ‘dirty Eggpire supporter’

- He finishes reading the lore suit and greets Purpled in chat, telling him that he’s getting sued by Puffy

- Sam logs on and Ponk takes him over to the valley. They’ve had their differences, but Ponk is in need of a good lawyer. Sam suggests Tubbo, but Tubbo is expensive and intimidating

- Ponk points out that Sam will be the only one in the jury with an elevated IQ like his own. Sam hasn’t been officially selected for the jury yet, and they might think he’s biased, having cut off Ponk’s arm (Sam says he did it for good reason)

- They reach the valley and Sam approves of Ponk’s bridge

Sam: “You can see Kinoko Kingdom from here.”

Ponk: “(gagging sound) No, you can see Niki’s place! Niki’s communist cult! It’s great! We’re gonna set up a nice trade agreement, and (mumbling) then we’ll burn Kinoko Kingdom down to the groun-- I mean, then we’ll have nice trade deals with everyone, you know?”

- Ponk is bitter about losing his arm and Sam blames it on him for stealing the keycards

Ponk: “Sam...just so you know, just so you know...You can come to me after...after everything. I will still support you, Sam, okay? You’ll have a place to stay, because, all the wrong you’ve done is gonna catch up behind you, you know? All the wrong that you’ve done--”

Sam: “I haven’t really done anything wrong.”

Ponk: “Haven’t you? Haven’t you?!”

Sam: “No, I think I’m a good guy.”

Ponk: “You think you’re a good person?”

Sam: “I don’t know, you don’t think I’m a good person?”

Ponk: “I mean -- my opinions are biased.”

- Ponk asks Sam to walk and talk with him on the way back to Spawn. Sam’s spoken with Purpled recently

- They visit the animal sanctuary and Sam suggests they steal the strider. Ponk tells him stealing is bad. Sam wants to let it out. They play with the strider a bit

- Ponk explains his conflict with Puffy in general terms

Sam: “Look, I have a random crossbow from one of those guys that we killed.”

Ponk: “You said that so casually...life is precious, you know.”

- Ponk asks about the bank. He’s free to work. Sam says it’s up to Hannah. The two discuss the bank system

- Ponk hasn’t seen Technoblade in a while. Sam thinks he must be overthrowing governments in a far off land or something

- Ponk offers to trade with Sam for two stacks of redstone blocks. He asks how much for his arm back. Sam says he destroyed it. Ponk is upset that Sam didn’t keep it, but Sam says it was too mangled

- Sam trades some gold for the redstone

- They fight a raid together and capture a Ravager

- The two continue to chat for a while

- Fundy stands by his bed. He had a great sleep! He dreamt about a Windows update and he’s looking...a little sleepy?

- He checks the to-do list. Today’s the day. He grabs some things for the road. Fundy decides he’ll go alone. He doesn’t want to risk losing his snow fox friend

- He says hi to his Aunt Panisha (a salmon in the river) as he sets off, asking her to wish him luck

- Fundy reaches Las Nevadas wonders where Quackity’s office is. After some deduction, he heads to the Needle and spots Quackity going up the elevator

- After some hesitation, Fundy goes up the elevator too and comes face-to-face with Quackity, who sees him and asks if he’s okay. Fundy says he’s doing fine, he had a weird sleep and may have woke up outside the window

- Fundy tells him that he took his advice and bettered himself. They sit at the table and Fundy shows him his new diet. Quackity says he’s proud of him

- Fundy mentions that last time they spoke, he suggested they play cards and back at home, he didn’t sleep because he was waiting for Quackity to come over...and then he didn’t

- Quackity explains he just had a bunch of paperwork to do

- Fundy spots some slime blocks bunched at the side of the room and asks what that’s about. Quackity says it’s “a friend” of his, that he’s probably asleep

- Quackity gets Charlie to emerge from the slime

Charlie: “Hey, Fundy from L’manburg!”

- He was in the middle of his gloop-morphosis. Fundy is confused at how he knows who he is. Charlie digs into the floor and gets Fundy to greet him, slurping up some slime

- Quackity tells Charlie he needs to speak with Fundy. Charlie says he can “sell it” and starts telling Fundy he looks like he wants to gamble. Fundy asks Quackity why he’s talking like this, and Quackity says he must have learned it from TV

- Fundy finds out that Charlie is incredibly old and asks Charlie about how he knew he was from L’manburg. Charlie declares them best friends

- Fundy tells Quackity that he’s changed, that he’s a better man. Quackity thinks it’s great, but he doesn’t want Fundy to portray a false version of himself

- Charlie looks at Fundy close-up and says he hasn’t changed

- Quackity doesn’t want Fundy to join under these conditions. Fundy insists he’s fine, he isn’t portraying a false version of himself

- Fundy’s lived in that cottage for way too long. All these nightmares are because of him interacting with people and he’s ruining it for them -- but ever since he’s improved himself and become more healthy, he hasn’t had those nightmares

- Quackity has thought about it a lot, and Fundy’s work in L’manburg was exceptional. He thinks Las Nevadas will be a stepping stone to Fundy’s success

- Charlie gets Fundy to smell him and asks him what it’s like to dream. Fundy sniffs and maybe swallows a piece of Charlie. Charlie tells him one day he’ll be whole again

- Quackity passes Charlie a bone of one of their “mutual friends” in L’manburg and asks Charlie to analyze it

- Quackity and Fundy leave Charlie in the Needle and go back down. Quackity brings him downstairs, where he tells Fundy there’s no going back. He wants to make sure Fundy can trust him and hands Fundy a book to sign:

---

All persons naturalized in Las Nevadas, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of Las Nevadas and the land wherein they reside.

The signing of this document subjects you to the rights and duties of the nation:

TAXES. Residents are required to pay a jurisdictional and financial charge to the nation to fund future projects and development of the nation. Failure to pay could result in the extinction of your permanent residence and possibly death.

MILITARY PARTICIPATION.  One of your duties as a resident of Las Nevadas is the complete protection of the nation. You’re required to participate in any wars, conflicts, or disputes of the nation, in favor of Las Nevadas.

LAND. One of your rights as a resident of Las Nevadas is a self assigned plot of land, approved by the proper authorities, to develop productive businesses, homes, entertainment centers, etc.

GAMBLING. Gambling is defined as staking of something of value, with consciousness of risk and hope of gain, on the outcome of a game. Gambling is completely legal in Las Nevadas, but subject to constantly changing regulations.

THE LV LEGAL SYSTEM ---------------------------- Las Nevadas and any disputes within the nation will be settled in the Las Nevadas court (TBA), with the presence of the conflicted parties, and the proper authorities.

FALURE TO RESPECT THE CONSTITUTION AND THE DUTIES WHICH ARE ASSIGNED TO THIS RESIDENCE WILL RESULT IN THE IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF CITIZENSHIP,  AND, IF GUILTY OF A CRIME AGAINST THE NATION, YOU ARE SUBJECT TO

DEATH.

SIGNED .  .  .

QUACKITY

FOUNDER AND PRESIDENT OF LAS NEVADAS

---

- Fundy is nervous and hesitates

Quackity: “Fundy, I -- You’re like a brother to me. We’ve gone through so much. But I still have to protect my nation...surely you can understand that.”

Fundy: “No, I -- I can. Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah, um...it’s strong...You really believe in this nation, right? It’s like your child--”

Quackity: “Fundy...this is all I have left...if this nation dies, I die along with it.”

- Fundy signs the document with his full legal name:

Fun Jonatahan Micahel Vincent Georgina James Sus Dy

- He signs the book, gives it to Quackity and asks that if he ever reads it, to not call Fundy by his legal name

- Quackity welcomes Fundy to Las Nevadas as an official citizen!

- Charlie has control over the piece of slime inside Fundy. He tells Charlie not to do that

- Quackity asks Charlie if he has a name. They decide to call him “Meat” for now, but Charlie tells Quackity in “secret” (very loudly) that he isn’t actually meat...he is slime from the ground

- Quackity suggests they call him Slime From the Ground. He then says he is bones

- He leads the other two to the edge of Las Nevadas’ road and points out that they have a big issue: Tubbo’s outpost nearby. Quackity suspects that Tubbo may be planning some dangerous strategy against the country

- Quackity gives Slime some armor to put on

Slime: “Ready for war...don’t take my music discs!”

Fundy and Quackity: “Wh -- what did you just say?”

- Quackity has an informational video he can show Fundy later. They investigate the outpost. He reminds Fundy about the military protection portion of the document

- Quackity remembers the Butcher Army and asks how much experience Fundy has with the military. Fundy was part of every single one that’s existed

- Quackity suggests they build their own version of the outpost

- Slime starts breaking Tubbo’s windows. Quackity encourages it and tells Slime it’s called “griefing,” handing him dirt to spread around the place

- Quackity finds the two Totems of Undying they have at the outpost and asks if they should take them. He then says they should test them. He doesn’t know what they do

- Fundy isn’t sure they should, or what Tubbo’s intentions are. Quackity decides to leave them unless Tubbo retaliates for the griefing

- They notice the bridge and Quackity suggests a tollbooth

- Quackity explains the concept of taxes to Slime, who’s been watching Purpled recently. Purpled hasn’t done much, just farmed 

- They start building the tollbooth and Fundy brings up how medieval castles used to have boiling oil above the gates that they could use if there were people they didn’t like, and they could do something similar

- Slime starts throwing slime and Fundy can feel it (and it doesn’t feel good)

- Quackity asks for the bone he gave back, but Slime can’t tell the difference between all the bones

- Quackity remembers how when L’manburg exploded, Fundy and Niki came up to him and said it was a good day...what was that about?

Fundy: “The way I saw it was, during that time, everyone was trying to divide each other, right. Everyone was trying to divide each other...every one was either left or right and there was no in between. There was no...People always wanted to separate themselves and make war and destroy everything that was loved. When L’manburg was a thing, I cared about L’manburg, and then it got destroyed, right, and eventually, my hope at that moment was...that people just like, accepted that they shouldn’t--”

Quackity: “But you betrayed the nation...Fundy, the thing I’m getting at is, I don’t know your excuse or your thinking behind that...that will not happen again at this nation. No betrayals, no backstabbing. Not here. Understand?”

Slime: “What’s backstabbing?”

- Quackity and Fundy try to teach Slime how to backstab, then how to work the tollbooth against Tubbo

- Slime starts putting buttons on the walls. Quackity tells him not to, as it gives him bad memories

- Slime asks Fundy again what it’s like to dream. Fundy doesn’t want to talk about it, but Quackity notes that he’s been vague about it

- Fundy explains that every time something big happens in this place, he has dreams where he can sort of see what happens before it does. It’s like gazing into the future, except he loses details before it happens

- Quackity presses him on it. Let’s say they have a big war coming up, he takes Tubbo’s totems and Fundy sleeps and tells him what happens next so that they can prepare?

- Fundy doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Quackity doesn’t understand how real these things are

- What if they build an entire building for Fundy so that he can have these dreams comfortably? It’s just a possibility...

- Slime’s gloop-morphosis isn’t “complete” yet

- Quackity asks if Fundy knows Foolish. Fundy remembers one time he blew up a little bit of Foolish’s house and he finds out Foolish lives in Las Nevadas

- Quackity asks how long ago this was. Fundy says it happened a long time ago, but Slime corrects him

Quackity: “Just know, Fundy...he doesn’t know how to lie.”

- Quackity leaves to get diamonds and Fundy confronts Slime alone, asking him how he knows things. He tells Slime that in certain situations, it’s helpful to keep quiet on certain things for the benefit of other people

- They move on and Fundy teaches Slime a bit about fun and hobbies

- Quackity returns and they notice many squid in the nearby river. Quackity goes down and starts killing “cod” (salmon). Fundy corrects him that they aren’t cod, but to Quackity fish is fish. Fundy looks away while Quackity kills them

- They suggest Fundy be the food-gatherer. Fundy suggests a diet of fruit and plants

Slime: “What’s wrong with salmon? Your father loved them!”

- Quackity asks Fundy to elaborate on his father, if he came from a fishing family. Fundy asks Slime again about how he knows. Slime continually refers back to people “turning to dust.” 

- They ask about what Slime knows about them, then about Slime’s favorite memory. He digs a whole in the ground and waits for a bit

- They teach Slime about humor

Slime: “Two people walk into a bar. One is green, one is red. The green one is shaped -- is a bigger guy, and the red one is a smaller guy. To get to the bar, both got off a train. The train the red guy was on was going west at 40 miles an hour for 60 miles. The train the other guy was on did not serve lunch. They both walked into a bar, and 500 years later they were still just dust in the ground. At the end of it all, they were just still dust, and none of it mattered.”

- Slime tells another joke about a chicken turning into dust.

Quackity: “How long do you think it’ll take for me to turn to dust?

Slime: “I...I’ll make sure you never turn to dust, Quackity from Las Nevadas!”

- Quackity asks about Fundy’s father

Slime: “The sooty guy?”

- Quackity and Slime ask Fundy -- shouldn’t he know? Slime says Fundy can ask Wilbur about his history himself

Quackity: “Your dad’s alive, Fundy?”

- Fundy tells Quackity about how Phil came to him with some interesting news, that Wilbur is actually alive. Quackity ask when was the last time Fundy’s seen Wilbur. Fundy hasn’t seen him alive again yet

Quackity: “What’s your relationship with Wilbur?”

Fundy: “It’s...it’s complicated, man. It’s very complicated.”

Quackity: “Because...there’s an issue.”

- Fundy wants to talk to Wilbur about a lot of things. Quackity brings Fundy over to the headquarters and breaks the news that Wilbur came to see Quackity

Fundy: “...He saw you? He went on his way to see you, and -- and he’s not shown up to me to, you know -- why, why?”

- Quackity shows Fundy the “mark” Wilbur made. Wilbur asked to join Las Nevadas, and Quackity said no. He shows Fundy the name: Fort Big. Tommy and Wilbur are working together

- Quackity is just warning Fundy. He hopes this won’t get in the way of Fundy supporting the nation. Fundy just doesn’t know why Wilbur didn’t come to him, but he went to Quackity. 

Fundy: “Did he talk about me?”

- Quackity thinks he did, but he doesn’t remember what

- Fundy says goodbye to Slime and Quackity, heading off to settle down on his own. He stands at his plot of land, wondering if he’ll have to fight Wilbur

- Purpled is at his old base by the ruins of L’manburg. Life is good. He has DogChamp, he’s been fishing, no human contact

- He has something to attend to and goes to the cliffside nearby, finding Slime. He asks why Slime’s been watching him, who told Slime to spy. Slime avoids answering

- Purpled figures it’s Quackity and asks Slime more about how long he’s been above the ground, what he knows. Slime refers to him as “Purpled From a UFO” and Purpled shows Slime that his UFO has been destroyed by Quackity

- Purpled leaves Slime and visits the ruins. He notices Slime following him and tells him to leave again

- Slime traps himself in Dream’s honeymoon suite and Purpled continues down the path, looking at all the builds. He visits the Socializing Club and checks beneath the floor -- the trap he made all those months ago is still there. He wonders if anyone remembers these things

- Slime slimes his way out of the trap and Purpled visits L’manburg. He was just a pawn, there was no “Purpled in L’manburg” or “Purpled in Pogtopia” or “Purpled on Dream SMP’s side.” There was just no Purpled

- He returns to his house, gets DogChamp, puts him into a hidden chamber elsewhere. He stores his valuables...and rigs the entire place with TNT

He sets it off and it goes

- Slime talks to Purpled again. Purpled asks if Quackity is still interested in a new resident

- Purpled asks Slime to trust him as he retrieves DogChamp, and he gets Slime to lead him to Las Nevadas

- He makes it there and goes into the casino. Quackity doesn’t know what he has planned. He comes out to find Quackity there. Quackity takes him up to the top of the Needle

- Purpled makes it clear he only cares about the opportunity for himself, not for Quackity. He doesn’t stand for what Quackity does, doesn’t think there will ever be a time that he’ll respect Quackity as a person

- Quackity tells him they all change in some way or another. When he first became Vice President, he saw the best in everyone

Quackity: “I don’t really see the good in people anymore...but I do see opportunity.”

- Quackity tells Purpled that if they succeed with the nation, the two of them will be going down in history. Purpled starts to come around to thinking that maybe they are on the same page 

- Quackity had a citizenship document he meant for Purpled to sign, but he’s willing to gamble on it without

Quackity: “Welcome to Las Nevadas, Purpled.”

- He gives Purpled the document either way and tells him he has a right to a plot of land. Quackity will have a business meeting with all the residents soon

- Purpled asks for land behind the casino. He has an idea for something. Quackity agrees to give it to him

- Purpled leaves and speaks to himself with DogChamp at the stage. Things will be looking different around here real soon

- Ranboo goes to the mailbox he set up with the Council and checks it, finding a new update in the book along with a Netherite Axe labelled “axe of the end” in Enderman.

The update reads:

---

Hello. We have been observing the happenings around the server and we come bearing not news but rather a warning for you. We know that you like to stand idle and not engage in any kind of acts of violence and we respect you for that.

However, we also know that there are people that you care about and you need to understand that in order to take care of those people you are no longer able to just stand idle. You need to take a more active role again. We have given you something that can help with that. Use it carefully.

We respect your wishes. - The Council

---

- Ranboo takes the axe. He planned to work on Tubbo’s outpost, make it seem like more of a shop than an outpost

- He goes to the outpost and finds the griefing, cleaning it up

- As some protective measures, he leaves signs:

---

Hello! Whoever put a bunch of dirt everywhere, Dont!

This is going to be a new cookie shop! We dont have cookies yet

Please leave it alone! Or violence will be used.

---

- He continues working on the outpost and Techno logs on. Ranboo goes over to the new tollbooth and pays the toll of one bone

Techno: ranboo have you unlocked teleportation yet

Ranboo: not yet i dont think

Ranboo: let me try

Ranboo: yeah no

Techno: can you hurry up

Techno: asking for a friend

- Ranboo explores around Las Nevadas and makes a to-do list

- He makes a hidey hole in the strip club and strips some logs. He gets tempted to steal a Netherite block

His to-do list reads:

---

TO DO LIST FOR LAS NEVADAS: 1. Figure out what to get inside of. 2. Figure out what the hollow buildings are 3. Figure out why there are so many horses 4. Figure out who runs this place 5. Figure out what the black pillars are for

---

- He returns home and speaks with Tubbo in VC

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[cloudselkie]

Tornado Safety Tips

It's that time of year again, and my tornado post was pretty popular, so I decided to break off my tornado safety section and make it its own post.

Those of us who live in Tornado Alley have grown up with a lot of this, but if you are new to the area, or perhaps live in the deep south, the new tornado hot-spot known as "Dixie Alley" here in the storm community, it is CRITICAL that you know what to do in case of a tornado. The southeast has the highest concentration of pre-fab homes (mobile homes) in the nation. If you live in one, please have a tornado plan in place as trailers and pre-fab homes will NOT protect you from a tornado. The best place to be is underground, but in the south, basements are few and far between.

What makes a tornado?

The National Weather Service has a great explanation for why some storms produce tornadoes:

The key atmospheric ingredients that lead to tornado potential are instability - warm moist air near the ground, with cooler dry air aloft and wind shear - a change in wind speed and/or direction with height. An unstable airmass promotes the development of strong updrafts, while wind shear will further increase the strength of the updraft, and promotes the rotation from which tornadoes are produced.

All thunderstorms have the potential to produce tornadoes, but the type of storm that is most commonly tornadic is the supercell. This very severe, long-lived thunderstorm contains circulation aloft (mesocyclone) that grows upward through the storm and downward toward the ground. When conditions are favorable, tornadoes will be produced. Supercells may produce strong, violent tornadoes, or several tornadoes over a period of several hours.

[Image via NOAA]

Now, let's talk about the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning.

A TORNADO WATCH means that conditions are favorable for the development of tornadic supercell thunderstorms. A PDS TORNADO WATCH means "Particularly Dangerous Situation" and only a handful of these types of watches are issued every year, so when one is issued for your area, it's time to keep your eyes to the sky and be weather aware!

A TORNADO WARNING means that a tornado has either been indicated by radar or spotted and reported by a trained storm spotter, and your location is under imminent threat. When a warning is issued, it's time to drop everything and put your tornado plan into action. When a warning is issued, you will have approximately twelve to fifteen minutes to put your plan into action (though warning times get a little better each year!).

What can you do?

Identify a nearby shelter - this can be anything from a dedicated communal storm shelter to a gas station to a grocery store to a church, just make sure it has sturdy walls (The best place to be is underground, but in the south, basements are few and far between). If going to a store, the store teams will show you where to go inside the store.

Wear sturdy clothes - sneakers/tennis shoes, jeans and a good shirt or jacket are good, in case you need to climb through rubble.

Get a weather radio - most tornado deaths happen in the middle of the night. Remember, outdoor warning sirens are just that - outdoor. They are intended to tell people outside that it is time to take shelter. You may or may not hear them inside. Weather radios save lives, and many places have sales on them in March.

Have important documents ready to go - stick them in your purse ahead of time so you know you have them when you leave or it's time to take shelter inside your home.

Have an emergency supply of medication, batteries, water, and small snacks - if you are trapped after the storm, you will want this small stash to take care of you and your family while you wait for help to arrive.

Kennel your pets - as the storm approaches, have them in their carriers. Be aware that some places may not allow you to bring them inside, even in emergencies. So make sure to locate a shelter that will allow them.

What to do when sheltering:

If sheltering in your own home - go to the lowest level of your house and choose a room with no outside walls. If this is not available, choose a room with the least amount of outside walls. Avoid areas with lots of glass.

If sheltering in a store - follow the prompts of the store employees. They will show you where their tornado area is.

Assume the tornado position - if you went to school in Tornado Alley, you probably know this one. Facing the wall furthest from the outside of the house, sit with your legs folded under you and lean forward into a ball shape. Place your hands on the back of your head and neck to protect them.

[Image via the Indiana Department of Education]

Severe weather season peaks in April and May, but remember that a tornado can happen any time the ingredients are right and everyone east of the Rocky Mountains are at a higher risk of seeing one!

[spiltscribbles]

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

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You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

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“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

.-

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

.-

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

.-

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[ramblingkat]

Fic: Stars

This was encouraged by the UraIchi discord server. Basic concept: Everyone is born with a tail. If you live long enough, you get more. If you find your “soul mate” you get a new color on your tail. 

Here, Yoruichi noticed the new color on Kisuke’s tail. He had happily been oblivious. And has no idea who’s reiatsu matches that new color of fur on his tail.

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Urahara Kisuke, Shihoin Yoruichi, Ishida Ryuken, Kurosaki Masaki, Kurosaki Isshin, and Kurosaki Ichigo

***

“You have gold in your fur.”

Yoruichi’s voice, deep and raspy, was a familiar one, and he knew she’d been sitting behind him for a bit, so Kisuke didn’t jump. Though he did pause, a cup of tea against his lips. Then he lowered it again, turning some to look over his shoulder at his friend. 

She was crouched next to his tail, eyes focused on the tip. Kisuke didn't actually look at his tail all that much, with it being out of his direct line of sight. Oh, he made sure it was brushed and neat enough, but it was just another limb. As long as it worked as he wanted, he never thought about it too much. 

Now he flicked it up, bringing the tip up closer since that was where Yoruichi had been focused. 

This was the only tail on display, as humans rarely lived long enough to gain a second tail, let alone a third as Kisuke had. The other two were hidden, as they had been for almost a century of hiding in the special gigai he had created. The only one on display was the same ashy blond as his hair, a sleek fox tail that had gotten him quite a few appreciative looks. And more than a few people asking for blessings. 

Apparently, pale fox tails were a sign of favor. Not something he had expected when he had first come to the living world. 

Shinji had laughed at him, the man’s golden lion tail lashing lazily behind him. Kisuke had asked how it felt to only have to deal with one rope instead of the multitude that the older captain usually had. That had lead to a spar, and gotten Shinji distracted. 

Now, however, Kisuke saw that there were fine golden hairs growing at the end of his tail. They didn’t stand out a great deal, not yet. But they were definitely golden. A distinct change from the pale fur they grew in. 

Yoruichi’s reiatsu, as muted as it was, radiated delight. Kisuke was feeling a bit stunned himself. 

“But,” he protested, voice distant in his own ears, “I haven’t met anyone new. Not for long enough to have our energies to click enough to bond.” 

There was a flat-out chortle from Yoruichi, and she rose up onto her back legs, resting her paws against the back of his shoulder. That let her get a better look at his tail. “You found someone to soul bond to and didn’t say anything.” She sounded highly amused and no small amount of pleased. “What have you been up to?”

Kisuke snorted. “Plotting and planning. The usual.” He flicked his tail against her face, then let it relax again. “I wonder who this is. I don’t know of anyone I’ve seen recently that has that color of reiatsu.”

He reached over and poked Yoruichi’s nose as she opened her mouth. “And don’t start on SoiFon. Right shade, very much wrong person.” He smiled faintly. “She’d murder me if we ever created some sort of spiritual bond.” Kisuke paused. “Though the way she hates me would definitely qualify. But the timing is wrong.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Yoruichi protested. Ignoring Kisuke’s amused, yet unimpressed, expression, the cat continued. “She’s just prickly about my honor.”

Kisuke snorted again, hand moving to rub his friend’s ears. “Very prickly,” he said drily. “If she could make me vanish, she would definitely do so.” He shook his head. “In any case, SoiFon’s disdain for me is not the topic here. I honestly have no idea why I would have golden fur coming in now. Everyone I interact with now are the same people I have interacted with for years. I doubt any of them have changed that much.”

“Something to figure out later,” Yoruichi agreed. “It’s not like your crimson isn’t a distinct shade.” She licked a foot, quiet for a moment. “Though now that I am here, how are things with Isshin and Masaki?”

Still absently petting her, Kisuke smiled faintly. “Going well. From everything that Ishida-san and I can tell, the baby is healthy and growing well. They are likely to have a mix of Isshin-san and Masaki-san talents.” Kisuke considered it a moment. “I believe, once the baby is born, they’ll take the hollow with them. That will be vital for their stability. They are so in balance at the moment that the loss of one aspect will likely prove lethal in the long run.” He considered that as fingers moving softly over dark fur. “Something I have impressed upon the parents to be. The hollow is sealed and will continue to be until we break it at some point, but the power it holds is present. So the baby will be…impressive.”

There was a snort from Yoruichi. “Maybe it’s the baby,” she teased, though there had not been any documented cases of soul bonding with an unborn child. “You do the impossible regularly enough. Why not do it again?”

Kisuke tweaked her ear, hand blurring as he dodged the slash of her claws. “I doubt even baby Kurosaki is developed enough to have a proper reiatsu signature yet,” he said easily. “While they have a strong presence already, it’s…malleable. Though I do hope that you’ll be in town when the time for the birth gets close.” He wrinkled his nose. “I am already noticing an uptick of smaller hollows. Masaki-san has been attracting quite a bit of attention from the wrong quarters. I think when it is time for baby Kurosaki to be born, they will lure in hollows for miles around. We’ll need to set up a protective line around them and deal with the swarm that is likely to descend on us at that level of power energy.”

A nod from Yoruichi. “Just contact me when it gets close to time. Though I don’t know if I’ll go too far.” Her tone went light and teasing. “After all, I have to find out who your mysterious suitor to be is. Only you could get a soul bond and not notice.”

That got her a sigh and a shrug. “It wasn’t like it was that big a deal,” he protested, giving his friend an over-exaggerated pout. “And I’ve been busy.”

Yoruichi perked up. “I have to talk to Tessai,” she warbled out, as close to singing as she got. Dodging Kisuke’s grab, the cat ran into the house, yowling out the name of their other friend, and Kisuke sighed.

Collecting his tea, he focused on that. No need to think about Tessai-san’s matchmaking urges now. He’d be dealing with them soon enough.

***

The stars looked amazing, and Kisuke found himself panting as he watched them decorate the night sky.

They weren’t as bright here as they were in soul society, but there was a great deal more progression in the living world, so bright it dimmed even the night sky.

Though all of his senses felt dimmed. The Kurosaki baby had come into the world, and he was grateful that Ishida had a charm that he and Masaki had put on the baby. It would allow more of the child’s reiatsu to release over the next year or so. Slow enough that they shouldn’t have a repeat of tonight. 

He was exhausted, and he was sure that Yoruichi was the same whenever she was at. 

The Visored had taken the outer layer of the patrol. Kisuke and Yoruichi had focused on the blocks around the roof of the hospital that the baby was being born in. And outside of all of it, Hachigen and Tessai had been working on keeping all of this under wraps. While he knew Aizen had an idea where they might be, they did not need the baby’s explosion of power to attract his eye. 

He was pretty sure they had dealt with every hollow from miles around, all attracted to the initial spike of power that the baby would have screamed out with their first breath.

That was something he needed to check on well. 

Pushing himself upright, Kisuke glanced around. It only took a moment to spot Yoruichi, leaning against an air conditioning unit a few roofs over. Waving to catch her attention, he waited until she nodded back, then he let himself drop over the side of the roof.

Ishida had given him a room number, and Kisuke had already scouted out where it was in the hospital. So it only took a moment to wrap a hint of reiatsu under his feet to slow and then stop his fall. He pulled a phone out and texted the man, making sure he was able to come in.

The curtains shoved apart, and Ishida was scowling at him. The man opened the window. “Get in here,” he muttered. “The sooner you make sure the boy is all right, the sooner you can leave.”

Kisuke smiled. “A boy? I am sure that Kurosaki-san is thrilled.”

“Isshin is being an idiot over it, and Masaki is pleased to have a healthy baby.” 

He shifted aside, letting Kisuke step through and land lightly on the floor, geta making only a small clicking as they hit the ground. Then Ishida continued. “They named him Ichigo. I assume you dealt with any outside trouble.”

Kisuke grimaced a bit. “After this, I think we’re all going to go find out beds now that the charm you have put into place has muted his strength. The area should be hollow free for a few months.”

A sigh. “That’s good,” the white haired Quincy said. “Hopefully they’ll be gone for even longer than that.”

Kisuke considered that. “If you like, I can set up patrol when your own child is born.” It was an honest offer, as he knew that the man’s wife had taken poorly to pregnancy. She was happy to be pregnant, but every time Kisuke saw her around, she looked exhausted and drained.

Ishida tensed, then made himself relax. “We’ll discuss that later,” he said, which made Kisuke smile to himself. That wasn’t a no, and it was nice to see how devoted the man was to his wife. He was as bad as Isshin was, if quieter about it. 

But he only nodded in response, quietly following as he was lead to the bed. 

There was Masaki, who was watching them, though Kisuke could see she was ready to go to sleep. Beside the bed was Isshin, whose tail was wagging back and forth like mad. And beside him, placed where both he and Masaki could reach, was a tiny little being. 

There was a tuft of dark hair, though he could already see strands of a paler color in it. Kisuke wondered if baby Kurosaki… Ichigo, his name was Ichigo, would have his mother’s hair? 

He was wrapped firmly in a warm blanket, swaddled quite tightly. Though he managed to get a foot and a puffy little tail out of the confines already. Kisuke smiled faintly, tucking the fluffy grey tail and the foot back into the blanket. “Already a trouble maker,” he murmured to the child, and then rested his hand on Ichigo’s chest. Closing his eyes, he focused, threading his reiatsu gently to make sure everything was still balanced. 

This was something he’d been doing since Isshin had come to tell him that Masaki was pregnant, in a near panic. There had been two pregnancies before this one, and neither had gotten far. The third time was the charm, and the balance of energies settled in ways to keep the boy from coming to harm. 

Everything still felt good, and he opened his eyes with a smile. 

“Congratulations,” he said, smiling at them. He knew they had been heartbroken the previous times, and having Ichigo here, all red-faced and scowling, had to be such a relief. 

“Masaki-san?” he asked, offering her his hand. She rested her fingers against his palm, and he did his own scan of her energies. 

Once he was done, he gave her hand a light squeeze and let go. “It’s as I thought. The hollow passed on to Ichigo, but the seal on it seems to be intact. Though he’s definitely strong enough to see spirits without much help.”

He smiled at the new parents. “You should have an easier time of things if you decide to give him any siblings without the hollow energies causing such distress on your own.” That was to Masaki, who looked relieved. He knew she had taken the failed pregnancies hard, but this should help her feel better about any future attempts. 

Moving away from the bed, Kisuke absently sealed Benihime back into a cane, nodding at each of them. “Now that everything seems to have settled both outside and in here, I’m off. Let me know if you have any other concerns that I might be able to help calm.” 

He went to perch on the sill of the window, then threw a grin back at them. “And, as always, come visit the shop and pick up a few items. I always have a wide range of stock for your purchasing pleasure.”

Ishida shoved him out the window with a snort. 

Kisuke laughed as he caught himself, and took off into the night. Time to find everyone and let them know that they could do whatever. The situation was done, and it was time for a well-deserved rest.

Besides, now that Ichigo was actually born, Kisuke had potential plans to adjust.

[bread-writes]

Hello. May I request a oneshot about Jake Kim celebrate valentine's day with his girlfriend please? Thankyou!

i’m late for valentines rip-- oh well lmao 

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, anon!

Spoilers for Jake if you squint near the end.

Writing under the cut!

Jake Spending Valentine’s with His Girlfriend

Jake is--and probably always will be--a busy man. Whenever he completed a stack of paperwork, three more would suddenly appear before them. But, despite his misgivings and less than favorable life, he had you; the light in his usually dark life.

With Valentine's just around the corner, more and more work was passed on to him so the others could spend time with their lovers. As much as he wanted to just pass all of his work onto Jerry (he knew that the boy would do it if he so much as asked) he felt bad for leaving a kid with so much paperwork.

The door creaked open, revealing Jerry. Jake sent the younger boy a nod of acknowledgment, ushering him closer with a flick of his wrist before turning back to the paperwork with a sigh.

"Was there something you needed, Jerry?" Jake squinted at the small text of the report in his hand, running his free hand through his hair as a means to calm himself down. A soft sniffle came from the seventeen-year-old, causing Jake to raise a brow as he looked up from the document in his hand.

"Jerry, seriously, are you alright--"

"I deeply apologize, Jake." Jerry wiped the lone tear from his cheek, "Please forgive me."

"Wait, what--?"

Two familiar sets of arms wrapped underneath his arms, lifting him off the chair with ease. Jake could only blink as Jason and Brad continued to drag him down the winding path that led to his apartment complex They finally stopped at his doorstep, dropping him unceremoniously onto the ground before knocking on the door.

You emerged from the apartment, tiredly rubbing your eyes as you glanced between the four men. When your gaze landed on your lover, you rose a brow before slapping your forehead with a groan in realization.

"When I told you it would be nice to spend Valentines with Jake, I did not mean abduct him--what if he was busy?"

"I actually was busy. Thanks for asking, by the way," Jake cut in, rolling his now stiff shoulders. Jerry visibly deflated as he fiddled with his fingers while mumbling an apology. You accepted Jerry's apology with a pat on his shoulder before offering Jake your hand. He gratefully took your outstretched hand, pulling himself onto his feet.

"This was a pleasure," he began, "but I really should be getting back." He turned around, only to be stopped by Jason and Brad blocking the exit. Jake rose a brow, glancing between the two, "...What are the two of you doing?"

"We're putting you on temporary leave. Don't worry about the paperwork, we'll handle it." Jason brushed off his unspoken concerns motioning to you with his wrist.

Jake could only sigh, letting out a chuckle as he pushed his hair back, "I suppose a few days off wouldn't hurt." He glanced at you, a minuscule smile making its way onto his lips. You grinned back up at him, leaning in to place a peck on his cheek. The two of you bid goodbye to the three other Big Deal members before making your way into your shared apartment.

"So... Valentine's Day is tomorrow, right?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you actually remembered; being swamped up in your work and all."

"Oh, shut it." He snapped back, letting out a grunt as he flopped onto the worn couch. You snorted, taking your seat by his side as he continued to scroll through the seemingly endless amount of shows the streaming service had to offer. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. You sighed contentedly at the familiar feel of his body heat, tracing the carefully inked lines of his tattoos.

At the sight of your favorite show, you tugged on his shirt, eyes sparkling as you excitedly pointed at the screen. Following the point of your finger, Jake grimaced, "Seriously, that one again? Haven't we watched that eight times already?" You shrugged, grounding one hand on his chest while the other reached out for the remote. He smirked down at you, outstretching his arm just barely out of your reach.

Curse him and long limbs.

Jake let out a garbled cry as you shoved his face away, lunging and successfully retrieving the remote.

"Ow, what happened to treating your boyfriend with love for Valentine's, huh?"

"What happened to letting your girlfriend watch her favorite show for Valentine's, huh?" You dangled the remote tauntingly in front of his face before resuming your place by his side.

He rolled his eyes, glaring at the show from the corner of his eye, "Fair, but can we at least pick another show?"

"Watcha gonna do if I say no, Mr. Big Boss?"

What you weren't expecting were his nimble fingers to dance along your sides--a dirty tactic that would only work on you, seeing that Jake was, unfortunately, not ticklish in the slightest. You screeched, dropping the remote before succumbing to a fit of laughter. Jake's eyes softened at the sight of you laughing, tears streaming down your face as you begged for mercy.

How he wished these sorts of days would last forever.

As his fingers ceased their movements, you greedily gulped in air, wiping at your tear-stained cheeks. Just as you were about to berate him for using such an underhanded tactic, he slanted his lips against yours in a soft kiss. The kiss was similar to the ones the two of you shared in the mornings before he left, yet far different at the same time. Gentle, yet passionate. Soft and somewhat greedy.

Just like him.

He parted slightly from you, "I love you."

"I love you too, Jake," you mumbled before once more placing your lips against his.

The remote and show remain forgotten as the two of you cuddle on the couch.

---

You were the first to awaken. Your limbs ached from staying in such a position for so long. As you tried to get up, Jake's arms anchored you in place. With a groan, you wiggled your way out of his arms, already missing his warmth as you entered the kitchen. Haphazardly scooping some rice onto a plate, you warmed the rice in the microwave whilst preparing some leftovers in a few separate bowls.

Lost in your thoughts, you missed the drowsy drag of Jake's feet until he once more wrapped his arms around your waist before placing a soft peck to the crown of your head, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Right back at you, Mr. Big Boss."

The two of you took a seat at the dining table, sharing a few laughs and stories from your respective jobs.

"What're we going to do first?"

Jake hummed, "We can go shopping, I guess."

"You guess?" The teasing lilt in your voice evoked an eye roll from your boyfriend as he scoffed.

"Do you have anything in mind, shortie?"

"Sho--?! You agreed not to call me that!"

"Well, you agreed not to call me Mr. Big Boss, you hypocrite."

You glared at him, "Touche... Shopping does sound good, though. I heard a new bakery opened up nearby if you want to check that out."

"Sounds good to me." He nodded, gathering all of the plates and bowls on his way back to the kitchen, placing them in the sink with the rest of the dishes before making his way to your shared bedroom.

The two of you made your way through the crowded streets that were filled with couples out on dates and friends just goofing off. In one of your hands, ingredients to make chocolate swished around in a plastic bag, while the other was interlaced loosely with Jake's. 

So far, the day has gone off without a hitch. Though, you suppose it would be difficult to approach the man (teen) at a terrifying height of 6'5"(195 cm) and the woman (also a teen) smiling so freely with said teen man. The bakery the two of you planned to go to had some of the most delicious chocolate you've had in a while, hence why you bought the ingredients to make your own.

You clapped your hands lightly after laying out all the ingredients, your phone propped up a little ways away, displaying the recipe for some simple chocolate. Jake stood next to you, tying the apron behind his back before sparing you a wary glance from the corner of his eye.

"[Name], are you sure about this? We've never made chocolate and this recipe isn't... exactly "simple"."

You only smiled at him, rolling up your sleeves as you briefly scrolled through the recipe, "We'll be fine, Jake. You trust me, don't you?"

He fought the urge to shake his head, forcing himself to let out a hum of agreement.

By the end of about three trials, the kitchen--along with both you and Jake--was splattered with chocolate. Half-eaten and burnt pieces littered the counters and filled the trash bin. 

"I told you it wasn't easy."

"Shush, it looked easy." You puffed your cheeks, grabbing a rag to wipe down the counters, scrunching your nose at the smell of burnt chocolate. Jake chuckled, gently taking the rag from your and leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Happy Valentine's Day, [Name]."

"Happy Valentine's, Jake."

Jake Kim was a busy man--too busy, some would say. At only nineteen years old he was able to lead one of the Big Four Crews to find his taken friend. But, he'll always find time for you; even if he has to be kidnapped to do so.

I hope you enjoyed this! this was actually so fun to write, but sorry I couldn’t get it out on Valentine’s oof. My fingers hurt ( ಥ_ಥ) oh the price to pay for satisfaction--

[disfordevineaux]

Character Parallels: Chase vs Julia

First off, let me start with:

SEASON 3 SPOILER WARNING.

This is somewhat a continuation from my original Chase Devineaux Case Study I did a while back. Feel free to read it to fully understand the context behind my opinions and thoughts on Chase, Julia and such discussed below. Let’s begin.

Although Season 3 was short, it was still a season that provided us with a new potential story catalyst to propel the plot in the form of major character development.

A bit of context:

Throughout the series, Chase Devineaux was always sceptical and often outright against the idea that Carmen Sandiego could have ulterior motives (due to his ill-fated meetings with the said person driving that home and on the surface she literally is stealing), an idea his previous partner, Julia Argent, was the spokesperson for. To quote a long story short, Chase was not too pleased or in agreement with the idea proposed by Julia: Carmen Sandiego isn’t the real enemy. Others shunned this idea too (Zari & Chief) and consistently was never outright ‘proved’ from a physical evidence standpoint. Both stood on opposite ends of the ‘who really is Carmen Sandiego’ spectrum. This was the major theme of division between Chase and Julia, a plot point further driven by the unlucky streak he suffered when dealing with Team Red, and VILE. Mostly he, and ACME, could not separate the entities completely, even up until the end of Season 3.

In the S03E04, ‘The Masks of Venice Caper’, after 3 seasons of being moments away from Carmen Sandiego at every step, Chase succeeds. After a long and clearly exhausting chase throughout the streets of Venice, he is able to finally catch up.

He leaps aboard after making the jump and officially bears witness to the handing over of goods, something which Julia was only ever afforded. Chase is blindsided at her easy surrender, simple innocent explanation and instantly clean escape. He does not go after her, instead stands bewildered at what she said, leaving him with the important line of: ‘Jules would understand’, (because she would with her prior knowledge and experience), to digest what just occurred.

This was not what he was expecting, as on other occasions they met him with hostility or evasion without explanation. Instead, he is treated as if he were Julia, filling the role as a substitute, as she is no longer on the scene to be the recipient of the ‘handoff’. At this moment, thanks to Carmen’s finale line, it all clicks. Previous conversations run through his mind, visibly questioning, as he makes the connection before being interrupted by Agent Zari, congratulating him on stopping the robbery.

The confirmation that he finally gets it is reaffirmed by a theme of a ‘silent partner’ which he now uses himself with commenting, awkwardly, that ‘I did not do it alone’ (A call back to S01E09, see below). This is the formal affirmation that he now understands that Carmen is not the enemy. There was no way he would have ever connected the dots without visual verification, experiencing it for himself first hand, a situation Julia experienced multiple times by fortune, something people forget when watching him grapple with his inability to detain the ‘thief’. Julia was provided with many chances throughout season 1-2 to work with or in situational coincidence with Carmen and aid in the protection of potential goods in harm’s way. (Most notably S02E04)

Julia’s departure, though disappointing to fans (and myself), was a crucial plot device to enable Chase to be finally exposed to the events which would lead him to change his mind for the better. Unless by some miracle he was chosen as the recipient of Team Red’s well wishes with Julia on the scene and/or in tow, it would have taken far longer for the realisation to be made. An understanding that is only able to be fully recognised by Julia and Chase. The only two people around long enough and familiar enough with Carmen Sandiego and the entire case to be in any position to come to the right conclusion about her intentions.

As many may say, seeing is believing. And seeing was what he needed to believe, both Chase and Julia needing that direct witnessing to understand. Seems the red lining of his original coat meant something after all.

(Do note: Julia was more inclined and susceptible to a conflicting opinion due to her heightened observation skills from the get-go but still needed visual confirmation, which she got, to stand strong with her diverging opinion on Carmen Sandiego.)

The Parallels:

In the next and final episode of S03E05, "The Jolly Good Show Caper", we are greeted with a callback to S01E03’s episode "The Sticky Rice Caper". Instead of Chase and Julia being on their way to interrogate Gray in the Paris Interpol office, Agent Zari and Chase are walking through the halls of the Italian Interpol office to interrogate their latest captured VILE operative, Neal the Eel. From a clearly visual standpoint (see below), the makeup of the scene and placement of characters is a direct callback to the dynamic between both Chase and Julia, and now between Chase and Zari.

S01E03 VS S03E05

Chase now takes the place of Julia, physically and mentally, who listens to a rundown of the situation, proposes a vague counter-argument which is disregarded by Zari. Chase is now wanting to look beneath the surface of the robbery or incident (like Julia always did), unlike before. Similar to the situation in S01E03, Zari is unwavering in her opinion that Carmen and the new detainee are in cahoots, Chase stating that his previous statement was merely ‘entertaining all possible angles’, a comment he further elaborates on to Chief at the end of the episode.

S03E05:

S01E03:

After coming to the interrogation room, Zari dramatically pushes it open in the same style as Chase did seasons earlier, halting her statement to reveal the suspect has ‘escaped’. Zari is stumped, Chase not too phased at this revelation and quickly checks the documents to understand what has occurred, once again.

S03E05

S01E03

Chase again, takes the stance of the ‘Julia’, all-knowing and proceeds to correctly recount the possible scenario that they have found themselves in, having experienced this once before. This ‘recounting of events’ is confirmed to the audience by Chase’s voice monologuing of sorts over an escaping by boat, Neal.

S03E05

S01E03

This scene is interesting for obvious reasons: it’s a direct call back to a later episode and the dynamic within. It is also a pivotal moment we see that Chase was always fully aware of what is happening around him, and really only required the correct pieces to fall into his lap at all the right times to now be the new ‘Julia’ in the dynamic. That style of a sequence of events is what helped Julia see the truth in Carmen’s actions in the first place. Chase has always been cognizant of the events around him, even if they could be contradictory to his main beliefs. Actively choosing not to present it to the audience, in favor of the popular opinion presented by and through ACME, their agents their leader that Carmen Sandiego is the enemy. Half of this being pressure, wanting to succeed in his work, gain praise for it and lack thereof witnessing first hand some sort of ‘positive’ reaffirmation of Carmen’s good intentions and that he really thought he was right. We see this through his sheer self disappointment and embarrassment when facing Chief after mistakes he had no true control over.

Towards the end of the same episode. Carmen is ‘captured’ in London. Agent Zari and Chase receive this development while travelling, Chase jumping out of his seat surprised, shocked, concerned that she was detained saying ‘that is terrible!’. Zari is notable taken aback, Chase quickly tries to collect himself and adjusts his statement and ends with ‘that. we were not the ones to make the arrest.’ Time has passed since the escape of Neal, Chase left to stew with his changing opinions and it clearly appears as if he no longer wishes for Carmen’s capture in the traditional sense, knowing that what she has been doing, is not criminally based. It’s unsure what his plans are when facing Carmen once again, but it at the very least no longer her capture.

Not only are Chase and Julia’s mindsets on the same path, but Chase is also no longer the driver between the pair. A fun nod to how Chase always drove, if dangerously at times.

After events unfold, Chase and Zari soon discover the planted crown jewels in Roundabouts office after a tip off, they run to retrieve them and Chase stops to glance out the window, witnessing Carmen Sandiego flying away from the scene. This is important, if a small detail, in once again showing us he has changed. He is far more observant and is the new candidate to witness the usual things Julia would if she were there. He stopped, was in the right place at the right time, recognised first hand the role Carmen plays in the grand scene of things, as a protector who runs interference.

When things have seemingly been resolved, Chase and Zari are in conference with Chief who details how she deems that it was all an elaborate plan where Roundabout and Carmen were in cahoots. In what is shown to be his first moment ever displaying his new and differing opinions to Chief on the events prior, he details how, maybe, Carmen left the items here for them to discover purposefully. Chief glares at him silently, Chase displaying an awkward reluctant smile, then ignores his opinion moving on. She informs him that it is his job to interrogate Roundabout for answers on how Carmen is connected to him, disregarding his prior though they are not united until Zari receives a phone call. They are informed that Roundabout never reached the destination and has escaped.

S03E05

A Sum Up:

In conclusion, Chase has officially changed opinions on Carmen Sandiego and has fallen into the role Julia left for him when she departed from ACME. Even with the pre-existing knowledge of the hacking by Player and all other indiscretions against him perpetrated by Team Red. He has been through a journey and come out the end with a new perspective

Agent Zari has now acted as both Julia’s and now Chase’s, well ‘Chase’, when it comes to the dynamic of the pairing. In many instances when consulting Chief, Julia has been informed to essentially ‘do her job’ or is only half-listen too, in a subtle way, instead of coming up with theories that don’t necessarily correlate with the majority. This all comes ahead in S03E02 ‘The Day of the Dead Caper’, where Chief is finally blunt with Julia (see below). The same thing has now befallen Chase (see below), except with little to no lead up to instant rejection. All of Chief’s patience for differing opinions was used up, all on Julia it appears.

S03E05

S03E02

The summation of all this produces a new defender of Carmen Sandiego; Chase Devineaux. The likely future outcome will be Chase attempting to contact, seek an audience with Carmen as Julia once attempted, and would succeeded in part from time to time. It is unlikely how well this will go considering Chase and is usually outwardly expressive with his determination to arrest her. One can only hope he is given a chance to rectify his past miscalculations and is able to further support these new set beliefs to ACME, Carmen Sandiego and himself. 

One can also hope Julia returns, maybe by a proposition from Chase, who will no doubt have trouble enacting his new purpose of true justice, and seeking answers/help from Carmen Sandiego. This would also promote a chance for an adult discussion, an apology, one sorely lacking in Season 3 between them. With this new air of familiarity between their opinions on Carmen, a rare opinion it appears, a chance for a reformation of a proper team dynamic is possible.

They lacked a connection throughout season 1 and 2 which aided in their bitter union, both full-heartedly, if not realised or intentional, determined to have their opinion victorious over the other to themselves and to those around them. Chase far more openly critical and cynical, Julia keeping such comments more hidden and modest, but also far more willing to stand up for herself to and in front of Chief. (Prominent examples seen in S02E02,4 & 8, S03E02) Chase was aware of his poor behaviour but found it justified in a sense that he truly believed she was misguided, that he was correct about Carmen Sandiego, now knowing she clearly was right all along. (This does not excuse/justify his rudeness in any sense, but can explain it.)

They would be a great team, now finally on the same page but unfortunately separated. Julia has the nohow and Chase possess the drive to make it happen. They do share those traits, each more natural at one over the other. Neither are willing to give up without a fair fight, and proudly declare and justify themselves at every turn, both proud individuals. (Julia far more modest in comparison). If they worked together, who knows the possibilities, if they can change ACME’s stance on Carmen Sandiego or if they decide to abandon it altogether and aid the other fighter of VILE, Team Red. Either way, it was clear Julia could not do it all on her own and I’m sure we will see Chase realise and suffer the same fate. Hopefully reasoning that he needs help, not getting it to form anyone else, remembering Julia, seeking her out and bringing her back to ACME.

Her reason for leaving ACME was that her heart was no longer in it, her passion snubbed out. Her work now directly contradicts her beliefs which are doubted by all those around her at every turn.

A sad but visibly true thing as no one else in ACME was willing to consider her way any longer, her opinion not shared by anyone else, a very demoralising thing to go through. She was always fighting and standing up on her own.

With Chase now sharing this opinion, the burden of seeing and knowing the truth, it will be easier to stand behind with full conviction, to attempt to highlight the innocence Carmen Sandiego has hidden in plain sight, together. Only time will tell how it all plays out.

[fuckinuchihas]

🌹 - Neji

Sorry this is so late I haven’t had wifi for like a month so thanks for being so patient <3  Also side note I really enjoyed writing this so I hope it’s okay!! 

Neji insists that he doesn’t need to get married. He can lead the clan without distraction if he stays unattached and unencumbered by the weight of those kinds of things. It's a little easier to imagine having a child now that the main branch of the family has grown in a variety of ways. However, he isn’t about to let down his guard just because the peace they reached after the war, seems to be holding up fairly well. 

His uncle is not pleased with this revelation. 

As he is still the head of their clan, Neji does have some obligation to meet his demands but after the first, second, and third attempts of ‘urgent meetings’ that quickly devolve into arranged marriage contract negotiations, he’s at his limit. 

He finally turns to Hinata for assistance but with her being married to the man she’s been in love with since she could barely walk, it’s not exactly helpful.

Neji doesn’t have a Naruto. 

There’s no one that has drawn him in or piqued his interest in the slightest. 

He really wishes his uncle would just stay out of it. 

That is until Hinata tells him about an upcoming ceremony where an ambassador from the village hidden in the waterfalls is meeting with all the local clan leaders to discuss a political marriage for their next in command. 

Marrying for money or privilege has never appealed to him, nor is he idealistic enough to put his faith in a cosmic power; be it fate, soulmates, or even something as abstract as love.

However, since the war, the land hidden in the waterfalls has rightfully felt cut off from the rest of the Land of Fire despite being centered between The Hidden Leaf Village and The Hidden Stone Village.

To have something to bond those in power wouldn’t be a terrible idea…

“Who all will be present?” Neji asks, almost surprising himself that he’s actually showing an interest. 

“Unfortunately there’s not many clans with unmarried heirs. The Nara clan is sending their third in line, Shino has requested that he not be included, but he’ll probably have to make an appearance anyway, and...and the Fuma clan will be sending someone, though I’m not sure who.” she says, showing quite a bit of worry. 

The Fuma clan is known for their aggression but none more than the most recently appointed heir. If not for how well things were already running, mostly due to Naruto’s heart and Shikmaru’s untouchable mind…

Well, to allow that man more power doesn’t sit right in his gut. 

“Tell Uncle I’ll be in attendance,” he says, ignoring the way Hinata’s eyes widen in surprise. “It can never hurt to keep an eye on the Fuma clan.” 

“I’ll let him know.” 

Neji gently bows his head to her and takes off in another direction. 

He has some research to do. 

The night of the ceremony he’s dressed in his formal wear despite the discomfort that comes from it, and his hair has been neatly straightened and pinned. There’s a prickle of nervousness at his fingertips but he ignores it in favor of arriving just a few minutes before the other guests. 

His uncle is giving him the most enthusiastic smile he’s seen from the man in years and it almost immediately makes him flinch back and turn around. 

No...this was his plan he’ll see it through.

It will be fine if you take up with the Nara clan member or even Shino he supposes but if it looks as if the Fuma clan have the upperhand, he’ll step in.

He isn’t full of himself, knows it’s nothing to do with who he is, his hopes, dreams, desires, but his clan is well known throughout all the villages and he has been appointed to be their heir as soon as his Uncle wishes to step down. 

Some nagging voice in the back of his mind is telling him that the old man is just waiting to marry him off before doing it.

Still, a contract with him is far superior to a contract with the Fuma clan and Neji understands the power of his position if nothing else. 

When you arrive, your face is hidden entirely under a thick veil, he bows his head to you politely and you return the motion, the same for your father. 

His uncle then proceeds to ‘keep casual conversation’ which in political rooms means something entirely different, as the four of you wait for the others to show up.

Shino is first, he stays humble and polite for a few moments but is suspiciously called to the school no more than five minutes after the introductions are over. 

Neji tries not to envy him. 

You’re soft spoken and quiet, Neji isn’t sure if that’s actually who you are or who you are in moments like this but he’s at least glad that you’re speaking on some topics as the conversation loops from one thing to another. 

The young man from the Nara clan...well he can hardly be called a man. He’s probably only barely old enough to be married at all, is nervous and awkward which is slightly amusing to him, but clearly not a viable candidate. 

Honestly, if you can just get things sewn up before Fuma gets he-

As if right on cue, the ceremonial curtain that was hung at the entrance of the room is loudly pulled away and in walks the overly entitled cesspool of DNA known as Fuma Ichizoku.

Servants follow him into the room despite the fact that marriage negotiations are meant to be private with only one advisor per each interested party. 

“Hey there, why don’t you take all that off and let me get a look at your pretty face,” he says, then he steps toward you and you subtly back away from the advance. It’s just a small movement really, the curve of your back arching just a little.

It’s enough for him. 

Neji wastes no time, he stands, politely bows to you and then meets Ichizoku head on. 

“I’m afraid you’re no longer welcome in these talks. Bringing uninvited guests into a treaty signing is not allowed,” he says cooly, ignoring the gasp from his cohorts. “I would advise that you read up on the formalities of contract negotiations before entering into one.” 

“Do you know who I am?” he asks, his words slurring a bit as the stink of alcohol invadesNeji’s air. 

“A previous guest who has been uninvited, now please see your way out,” Neji answers, looking to his people. It is in vain because they are clearly too intimidated to do anything about his disruptive behavior. 

In one quick, precise movement, Neji thumps his hand against the side of Ichizoku’s neck and he barely has time to start his complaint before crumpling to the floor.

He turns to you, eyes pale and gorgeous and he asks if you’d like to file a formal complaint. You quickly shake your head no before he turns back to the group that came in with him. “See to it that he gets home safely,” he says, but he makes a mental note to discuss this with Ichizoku’s father. If he can’t do better than this, he’s not fit to lead a clan of any kind, not even theirs. 

They quickly carry him out of the room and Neji returns to his seat. 

Your father scratches his chin with stoic features for a few beats before Neji watches the small uptick at the corner of his mouth and he feels a flood of something warm through him. 

“I’ve heard rumors you were reluctant to marry…” he says, and Neji slowly bows and nods his head. 

“That’s true yes...I had no altruistic intentions of marrying and having a family. I think-I thought it would be easier to lead my clan if I wasn’t concerned about a partner or children or returning home every night,” he says, but he looks to you, bows his head again, “But if I can be of use to my clan, to the people in my village, to the Allied Nations I want to do that. I want people in every hidden village to feel included in the peace that we’ve fought so hard to get,” he says, and he doesn’t think he’s talked this much in a while but it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

“So not for money or love, but political marriage interests you?” 

“It’s not that, sir. I just think that when you’re part of something greater than yourself or your clan, it gives you a sense of purpose and I believe anyone who experiences that is more invested in maintaining those ideals and feelings,” he says, and you find yourself smiling under the veil. 

“And you think you can share that feeling with our people?” he asks, and Neji goes quiet, lost in his thoughts for a moment.

Hiashi tries to cover the silence but your father just waits for him, observes him and waits. 

“To be honest sir, I’m not entirely sure I’m the best person for that. Until recently I was blind to most of the world outside the Hyuga compound,” he says, pausing to take a breath. “Perhaps you could find a better match elsewhere. Someone more open and kind. You see, I’m not very personable. Even my teammates and closest friends find me difficult…”

“Well I certainly didn’t expect quite that much honesty,” your father says, a hearty laugh bubbling out of his chest. 

“Sir?” 

“You’ll do fine, young Hyuga. You’ll do just fine.” 

“I’m not sure I understand…”

“The contracts can be amended if you find something to your dislike but read over them and make your decision. I know we’re eager to officially join in the peace treaty and have such respectful and honest allies at our backs.” 

Neji looks to you like he’s expecting you to stop him or something but you just nod your head in agreement and let him look over the pages, your skin tingling with anticipation.

You wait, breath feeling trapped in your throat as his eyes skim over the document when his signature is finalized across the bottom, you feel yourself smiling.