#it’s gotten really lonely and almost alienating in a way

[artsymeeshee]

Second-guessing

[brown-little-robin]

ALSO she's planning to be here for FIVE HOURS

.besties help im having a moment again

[alexanderwales]

The Digital Corpse

I always read about what school shooters or wannabe assassins have to say. I read or at least skim through manifestos, most of which are really poorly written and usually just have badly misunderstood ideas that are copy-pasted from diverse places. I read social media posts and discord logs, where available. Some of this is morbid fascination that I don't endorse, but some of it is the impulse to understand how and why a thing like this happened.

So I've been following the news on Trump's would-be assassin, and to all appearances he was just a kid who was bullied at school and didn't have a lot of hobbies, skills, talents, or friends. He wanted power and control and had no way to get it, and I think there's something to the notion that a lot of white men think that their whiteness or maleness means they're owed something. When Trump came to town, it was opportunity falling into his lap. If you're 20 years old and feeling like the world cares nothing for you, then yeah, I can see why you'd take your shot. It's a way of being famous, of going out with a bang, and young men often feel invincible anyway. The shocking thing is that it almost worked, and that seems to be down to incompetence and complacency.

But if it had worked, and they hadn't immediately shot him to death, he'd have gotten all the worst parts of fame (in addition to what would probably be life in prison). In death he's got intense scrutiny of everything he's ever posted online. There are reports about how sad and lonely he was. If he'd succeeded, maybe there would be some on the left who would idolize him, but as it stands ... I can imagine wanting to be megafamous, but I cannot imagine wanting it to be like this. It was almost certainly different in his imagination though, a grand moment that would give meaning to his life and demonstrate that he did, in fact, have power.

And of course the whole thing will be forgotten in a week or two. A year from now you'll say the name "Thomas Crooks" and people will say "huh, that ... do I know that name?"

On the other side of things, there's Corey Comperatore. He was the other person to die that day, just a random guy who had attended a Trump rally and got hit by a bullet because from one specific angle he was standing behind Trump. If Thomas Crooks left almost nothing behind to make sense of his life, Corey Comperatore left behind what feels like a lot. The fame is more double-edged. He's lauded as a hero by some, even if the only thing he did was catch a stray. Generously, that's a way of making sense of things: just like it's not enough for Crooks to be alienated and dejected, it's not enough for Comperatore to just be someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But Corey Comperatore is also having his life torn open, or at least the parts of it that he put online. Posting online was something he probably did without thinking too much about it. The worst one, for me, was him saying that the Palestinians would "get over it" like the Japanese did. It's something I think about a lot in the social media age, the picture that people would get if they went looking through all our posts, if they were trying to make a picture of you from the things you've left behind. If you died in a very public way, what's the worst post you've ever made? What would people find ironic? But of course you don't need to die, we're in an era where anyone can get flash famous by random happenstance. And of course in the modern day we want the delicious little morsels, the worst thing you've ever said, the most ironic, most iconic, most infuriating sound bite that can represent a whole person. Anything more anodyne is pointless, even if that's the bulk of someone's life.

I'm probably a little unusual in terms of digital fingerprints. I'm active on discords, I've written some four million words of fiction, and my reddit comment karma is in the six figure range, which probably means that I've got something like fifty thousand comments. I talk a lot. But I do think about being torn apart like that, what would happen if I were famous for a day before the news cycle moved on, if there were hundreds or thousands of people trying to make sense of me.

When I die, if anyone has reason to go snooping through my history, I hope there's a good-looking corpse.

[riddlesrose]

on the chest of another

w/ astarion

cw; none but maybe mild ooc astarion

hi yeah i haven't posted in 13 months my bad enjoy

He doesn't know the last time he felt truly comfortable with another living person, he’d been turned into a blood-thirsty vampire hundreds of years ago, he slowly learnt that the people he attempts to love will wither away while he stays put, same age, same face, though he can’t see it. Astarion watches the world change and reform around him while he retains memories of those he loved before they were either taken by the cold hands of death itself or he was forced to sacrifice them to his evil lord, Cazador. 

When he’d been taken, kidnapped, vampnapped off the streets of Baldur’s Gate, he’d never been so thankful, he was free, albeit trapped in a flying ship with aliens and other kidnapees, he was free from Cazador and the horrible treatment he’d endured for years upon years. He felt unrestricted until they threw him into a pod, then forcefully inserted an alien-type creature into his eye. He writhed in pain, attempting to free his arms, hands or legs to fight back, but it proved fruitless, he was stuck, and now, he had no idea what was going to happen to him. 

Astarion doesn’t know how long he’d been out, unconscious but before he could collect his thoughts, he realized that the flying ship he was, unfortunately, still on, was on fire, being actively attacked. 

After the ship had been knocked around a few times, set more on fire, he noticed a person, they were free, walking around like nothing was happening, or maybe looking for an exit, but they were definitely too far for anything to be heard had he banged on the front of his pod. That’s it, this is his end, he’ll probably just die when this ship inevitably crashes. Oh well, it’s a better outcome than being Cazador’s slave for the rest of his miserable life. 

Astarion stirred, feeling the sun warm his body, wait, the sun? He shot up, he should be turning to ash, he lifted his hands to check he really wasn’t chipping away in the sunlight. This has to be a cruel joke, Cazador or someone of his likes toying with him, teasing him with what he misses and has missed for the past 200 years. That and maybe his own reflection. But oh dear, how he’s missed the sun. The feeling, how it makes him feel, he feels happy, momentarily, until he remembers what just happened. First, getting kidnapped, then having some kind of tadpole inserted into his brain, now, he’s in the sun. What the hell. 

Then he also remembers the lone traveller that wandered free upon the ship, they’re probably around here somewhere, he better lure them out, question them. 

Many weeks passed by, Astarion ended up joining forces with the traveller he almost attacked, whom he learned goes by Tav, a Githyanki, a wizard, a cleric, a Tiefling, a druid and a warlock. He’d fought in many battles, some great, some his companions dragged him to, earned himself a few new friends, shared many stories with the camp, and shared his secret. The camp was very accepting of his condition, as long as he didn’t feed on an unwilling target. Tav was a dear on the night he almost starved, he’d gotten so hungry he thought he’d be able to sneak a quick bite without Tav noticing, guess guards were still too high and they noticed as soon as he got too close at night. After exposing himself on accident, Tav had offered a small amount of their blood to aid him. Now, it’s almost nightly he’ll go find Tav in their tent or bedroll and sate his hunger. Rats and boars just don’t tide him over anymore now that he has his own food source, willing food source. 

“Astarion?” Tav stirred, cracking their eyes, while searching for his. 

“Yes, my dear?” He hovered over them, looking as if he was going to feed but almost backing away this time. 

“I can feel you hesitating, why?” Tav had always been able to feel when he made his way into their tent for his needs, sometimes they woke but never pushed him away or forced him to take less than he needed. 

“Why, I am not! I am simply… going to wait for you to go back to sleep.” He looked proud with his excuse. 

“Lies. There’s another reason.” 

“There is not.”

“Yes there is.”

“No-”

“I’m not going to argue this, Astarion, is there something wrong?” 

He sighed, moved himself to sit by Tav’s legs and looked away, not bashfully, he was embarrassed. Tav sat up as well, but scooted closer to Astarion so he didn’t have to speak above a whisper if he did not see it fit.

“I feel greedy.” His demeanor of wit and confidence melted away as the bugs and frogs sang their night songs in the nearby pond. The night was cold, usually lonely, but he felt a sort of comfort with Tav that he hadn’t felt in years, he vowed to himself after he was turned that all mortals were never to be loved by him. They were going to die and he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair, he wanted to grow old with someone he loved deeply, he wanted more than to be someone’s pawn, a spawn of evil intent, born to do no good. 

Tav did not say anything, only tilting their head to the side with empathy shining in their eyes. 

“Now, I’m not asking for pity, dear, don’t give me that look.” 

“I know, I was simply allowing you to continue without interrupting, but look where we are.” 

“Cheeky. Fine,” He took a breath, thinking for a moment, “I haven’t been free of Cazador in two hundred years, I am unsure how to feel, how to live, frankly. I have been his slave, I’ve done his dirty work for as long as I can remember, I had no way out, I was underfed, mistreated, beaten, used, abused, everything you can think of darling, I experienced it under Cazador’s orders.” Sometime during his small rant you had moved closer, draping a blanket around his shoulders, and rested a hand on his shoulder, showing support without interrupting him. Astarion looked over to you with pain and sadness in his glossy red eyes. 

“Why don’t you stay for a while, you can leave before the sun comes up, no one has to know the witty and confident Astarion we all know stayed the night in another’s tent.” Tav proposed. They moved back onto the bedding they had tucked into the most private part of their tent, allowing him to follow if he chose to. He was not pressured, not forced, but given complete free will of his actions, something he still could not fully capture the grasp of because of his past. He thought on the choices he was proposed, 

“Only for a few minutes.” He decided since he doesn’t really sleep anyways, he’s an elf. He crept a few inches closer, unsure of where to go, Tav lied down and patted their chest, colour rose to Astarion’s pale cheeks, he was thankful it was dark. He took a few awkward seconds of staring at Tav before snapping out of his trance and shuffling back a few inches so his head could rest on their chest, he felt out of place, inconvenient, a burden to Tav’s sleeping. He was about to get up and thank Tav for their time before they brushed their hand through his messy curls and he stopped. His heart began beating a tad bit faster, he promised, no swore, that no mortal would make him feel this comfortable, loved, cared for, he knew what was inevitable… 

After many minutes, Tav could feel his breathing slow as they continued to rake their hand through his hair, untangling pieces every so often, they watched his eyelashes flutter before his breathing fell in tempo with their own. Tav guessed it had been a while since he’d felt comfortable, given his history and all. It was true, so for the first time in many, many years, Astarion fell asleep to the sound of a heart beating in the chest of another. 

masterlist

[umbrellalavender]

My Review of Torchwood: Almost Perfect

So, my friend gave me this book a few months ago (bless her. She’s a sweetheart!) I’m not a big reader of physical books and I’m quite slow when it comes to reading them. In addition, my friend had given me another Doctor Who book for Christmas and I was busy reading that (Feast of the Drowned that took me about 5 months to read).

I was a little hesitant to get into this book. This was the only Torchwood book I had heard of before, and that was from a negative review on Twitter. And reading it, I have to say I completely disagree with them!

This book was amazing! I absolutely loved reading it!

I think the story is very interesting and extremely Torchwood! I loved reading Ianto try to adapt to being a woman. And I was so invested into why everything was the way it was. I didn’t really know who Emma was, yet I was still intrigued with her story and how she fitted in with Torchwood. I know that the main characters weren’t going to die, but I felt tense about whether Rhys and Gwen were going to fine.

And this book is actually funny! There are so many lines that are so random, they make me want to laugh. I had a nightmare trying to stop myself from audibly reacting to it when I was in public.

But the highlight of it all has to be the chapters themselves! The chapters themselves are quite short, which is great considering my attention span is not the best. My only complaint about the chapter sizes is that “Ianto Is Having A Flashback” is 24 pages long. And having gotten used to quite snappy chapters, this was quite a challenging chapter to sit through. The title names though! Chef’s kiss! Some examples are:

Five Rare Times That Ianto Jones Swears

Ianto Is More Important Than Static Cling

Captain Jack Is Available For Children’s Parties

Sergeant Pepper Is A Lonely Heart’s Club Band

Owen Harper Is Still Dead

Ianto Can Ride A Horse Across A Beach Without Fear Or Shame

The Strange Alien Device Is Plotting To Take Over From Jeremy Kyle After This

Mozart Is Sponsored By Cholestria

My biggest complaint about this book would probably be that it is very 2000s. I feel like there are quite a few stereotypes within. And Jack is awkwardly quite sexist to Ianto. Nevertheless, I don’t think this takes away from the book and I still absolutely enjoyed reading it!

Unfortunately, that was the only Torchwood book I had, but I do have like 7 Doctor Who books I mostly found in charity shops!

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Santa for Christmas (DogPath)

Explicit // M/M // Cal Roberts (The Path)/Nigel (Charlie Countryman) // Tags: AU, Cal left Meyerism when he was younger, ex-cult member, Nigel is going legit in the US, divorced dad Cal, teacher Cal, Santa Nigel, bar hook-up, first time, anal sex, Christmas, kid fic, Mall Santa, quiet sex, time skip, happy ending. Prompt fill. 

Cal takes his son to see Santa. Unfortunately Santa is the same man he had a one night stand with a few weeks earlier...

Chapter One (of Two)

Christmas was something Cal still hadn’t quite adjusted too, despite having left the cult almost two decades ago - escaping, as he saw it, the week before he turned twenty. Having been raised in a setting not only devoid of the societal norms found in the rest of the country, it had a whole set of its own. Everything had been an adjustment. In the beginning he had turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism. One that got much worse before it got better.

It had been years since his initial deprogramming, but Christmas remained the most difficult holiday to adjust to. They’d had big celebrations in Meyerism, but none on this scale, none where for at least six weeks there seemed to be nothing else but Christmas. 

He didn’t believe in it - though he didn’t really believe in anything these days. And the fact that he was sure most people who celebrated it, didn’t either, made no difference. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to celebrating a holiday that seemed as fictional as all those he had celebrated in his youth now felt. 

Usually he let the holidays pass him by without much thought. He was personable of course, wishing his students a happy holiday, returning the greetings of his neighbours. But he had no tree, no decorations, no special meal planned. It was just another day. Usually. 

But this year, he had Forrest. 

In the years since he’d left the Meyerist commune, he had attended college, graduated, ended up in a job that sometimes left him emotionally drained to the point of wishing he was back in the cult where he just had to do as he was told.

And he had gotten married and divorced. 

The whole thing had been a mistake. He’d met Mary at a self-help group he helped run for those escaping from the same sort of situation he’d been in. As it happened, Mary had been in exactly the same situation. He’d never met her when he was there, but she was the only other ex-Meyerist he met out in the real world. And initially, that had drawn them together. 

Looking back, he could admit his fault in it all. He had been lonely. The kind of lonely that came with not quite fitting into society, not really understanding society. Being so wholly alien to it. Mary hadn’t been raised Meyerist, but she’d been vulnerable when she’d joined the movement - coming from a home devastated by a tornado and unsettled homelife before that. She’d wanted somewhere to belong and they’d preyed on that. So Cal should have known better than to get involved.

He was an idiot. And so their whirlwind, co-dependent and arguably toxic relationship was all of six weeks old when they got married on the spur of the moment in Vegas, a few days after they found out that she was pregnant. That night had been the first and last time since he got sober that he had gotten blind drunk - taking him back down to zero days. 

It was another six weeks before they both realised they’d made a terrible mistake and decided to go their separate ways. Quite literally in Mary’s case. Her sister had tracked her down and taken her home, somewhere safe and loving. And Cal couldn’t begrudge her that, it just meant that he would be a couple of hours drive away from his son. It wasn’t ideal, but they’d been making it work for five years now, and this was the first Christmas Forrest was staying with Cal. 

That was how Cal had ended up decorating his apartment, buying a tree, and now taking his son to the mall the first day of the winter break. It was very different doing this for Forrest rather than himself. He didn’t believe in Christmas any more than he had before, but it felt meaningful in some way that it never had when he’d been on his own. The way Forrest’s face had lit up just seeing the apartment decorated and being lifted up to place the star on top of the tree, had been worth the effort.

“Santa!” Forrest gleefully proclaimed as they walked hand in hand through the well-adorned mall.

“Yes, Santa,” Cal agreed as he tried to work out where Santa’s Grotto was. He’d already bought gifts for Forrest, and a small one to take back to Mary after the holidays, so the only reason they were in the mall was to see Santa. If they could ever find him!

“Daddy!” Forrest tugged on his hand, his voice full of frustration - not unusual for a five year old, Cal had discovered. “Santa!!” 

Cal looked down to see Forrest was pointing off in the direction of a small queue with festive signs. 

“Great work,” Cal smiled down at him and changed direction to join the queue, which wasn’t actually as small as it looked - it went up and then turned back on itself and so Cal and Forrest had to walk past the grotto itself to join the end of the queue. 

As they did so, Cal looked in, seeing the excited children that were next in line, some teenagers dressed as elves, and then, as the curtain to the grotto pulled back for the next customer, there was Santa sat on a throne. 

Cal stopped dead in his tracks, and for a moment his eyes met Santa’s and a grin formed on the man’s face - almost hidden by the grey beard - before the curtain closed again. 

“Daddy, I want to see Santa!!” Forrest tugged his arm to get him moving again. As they walked to the end of the queue, Cal’s mind was racing, trying to decide whether there were any other malls, or anywhere really that had a Santa’s Grotto. He really didn’t want to do this, he would rather drive for a couple of hours to another mall if that’s what it took. Though, looking down at Forrest, he knew he couldn’t even entertain the idea. 

But Cal really, really, didn’t want to do this. 

Because Santa was Nigel. 

Continue on AO3

[trickstarbrave]

hi im on my bullshit making up random aus again

this is steren! not his main story either. i might write up his main story in bits and pieces at some point. but this is an au bc i wanna see him happy with his parents.

so he's getting dropped in @mulberrycafe's vivi's world. sorry kid, azura will grant your wish but not how you're thinking

obligatory picture of steren and some background info from this post. and bonus baby picture.

this is just part 1. part 2 will be the gang dealing with an unconscious dunmer who fsr has a moon and star ring of his own and nerevar's sword. which will be uh. concerning.

(also i didnt proofread this :'D)

--

Falling to his knees, Steren coughed up a bit of blood, willing the last of his magicka into a healing spell to keep his organs stable. 

It hadn’t been an easy battle, both physically or emotionally. 

Dagoth Ur, after all, had at one point been his father. 

Fate was cruel like that. His first lifetime he spent his whole, although very short, life chasing after his father and his legacy. He felt alienated in House Indoril, and when rumors stirred he might be of an unsavory bloodline no one dared name, things became more complicated for him. When he was a young adult--when he should be just spreading his wings and leaving to the world--he had found documents that were to be burned from the sinful Sixth House. 

Documents that clearly defined that he was born from Voryn Dagoth. Born from a supposed fling he refused to name and died shortly after childbirth that the Lord of House Dagoth refused to let rot and instead welcomed as a legitimate son with open arms. It seemed to go along with his memories too--hazy, faint things from when he was such a young child. Memories of a golden skinned mer with long black hair that would hold him close, laughing with mirth and pride, calling him ‘little star’. 

Steren then went to Vivec for answers. They were all on the first council when the war broke out. It was impossible the living god didn’t know his father was Voryn Dagoth. He demanded answers--why was his father killed? Who was his mother? Was she really dead? Did she miss him? Did he have any other relatives--aunts and uncles in other houses who knew who he was? Why had his whole house been destroyed and they shoved him into Indoril in secret? 

But Vivec had refused to answer. 

When Steren was young, the warrior-poet was oddly close to him. He still lived in Mournhold, having not yet built his temple in the Ascadian Isles, and welcomed Steren almost like a mentor. Encouraged his magic and swordsmanship, and assured him there was a place for him in the world. But when Steren knew the truth, the god’s eyes had gotten cold and hard.

“What good would come if I told you everything?” Was Vivec’s answer. “House Dagoth fell because they were traitors. Voryn Dagoth had betrayed our people and fought against us in the war that destroyed parts of Vvardenfell. Even Red Mountain spewed fire in anger.” His words only fanned the flames of resentment more and more for the young dunmer in front of him. “If there were relatives who could take you, I would have gladly let them. And no matter how much I tell you of your birth, of that accursed house, it will not undo that tragedy. It will not bring your parents back.” 

It was the truth, in a way. A painful truth Steren had refused to accept. He grew up isolated and lonely, wanting nothing more than to belong. Wanting nothing more than to know his history. Something to call his own. A relic from his parents. A memory to cling to. Proof that, at some point, in some way, he was loved like he always craved. 

And Steren chased answers until he died tragically, killed in a landslide as he tried and failed to get into an old House Dagoth outpost to look for hints of the stronghold’s location. He had barely gotten married and had a son himself, who no doubt had to grow up without him. 

And in Steren’s second life that tragedy never really ended. 

He was orphaned in Cyrodiil, not even knowing who his parents were, kicked out once he was the age of majority for a mer. And with little life skills, he had resorted to taking whatever work he could. He hadn’t intended to get mixed up in anything illegal--that would be stupid. But the imperial guards didn’t much care about his ignorance when they rounded up everyone involved in the smuggling operation. Steren pled his innocence: he thought it was just unloading cargo off a ship. How was he supposed to know it was smuggled goods? But the law didn’t care much about it at the time. He was to serve his sentence of five years since he had no money to pay a fine. 

Only to, after one year, be shipped off to Morrowind, unknowing what events would unfold. 

Another cough, and a bit more blood spilled onto the volcanic rock. He felt so warm here. The lava below was making him sweat like when he had corpus fever, but he didn’t have the strength to stand up and leave. 

“Steren,” Nerevar’s voice spoke to him, kneeling beside him and trying in vain to wipe his brow. It wasn’t entirely unappreciated; while Nerevar couldn’t really touch him, the spectral presence gave a faint, cool sensation on his sweaty skin. “It’ll be alright--” Nerevar was always quick to reassure and help him. “Do you have a potion or two?”

At the very least, in this lifetime he found the answers he sought--his other parent had been none other that Nerevar. Steren had been born of a fling--a quiet, drunken affair neither of the two had expected anything else from. Nerevar had told him as such, but that they both loved Steren very dearly regardless. That Nerevar had loved Voryn, even if he couldn’t say so openly. The hortator had run off after discovering the pregnancy, ignorant to what the dwemer were getting up to, to have Steren in secret under the excuse of going on a pilgrimage to Azura, and handed Steren off to Voryn to raise. 

And after his death Nerevar couldn’t bear leaving his child alone. Reincarnation and prophecy be damned; his son was alone in the world. Nerevar had wanted Voryn to raise him so he was always looked after and loved by at least one of his fathers, and now with Voryn dead Nerevar would take up that role. Yet, he was powerless to speak to Steren--to answer his questions and protect him like he always wanted. And with that regret he continued to watch over Steren’s child. Then Steren’s child’s child. All the way until Steren was reborn to a dying mother fleeing persecution in the Illiac Bay. 

Steren had a feeling his dad was going to have to see him die all over again, once again helpless to stop it. The Moon-and-Star ring let him speak with and see Nerevar, but there was only so much a ghost could do.

“I used the last of them…” Steren admitted. He had just enough to barely survive the fight, gulping them down while he dodged attack after attack. 

“Recall amulet?” Nerevar replied, and Steren tried to get the energy to dig through his pack. If he could pull out an amulet or scroll he could use that to get into town--limp his way to a healer or general goods seller for a few potions to stabilize himself.

But then there was a spectral blue light that didn’t match the golden glow of Nerevar, and a woman’s voice spoke to him. 

“Well done.”  She was smiling affectionately, but Steren kind of wanted to curse her out. “With this, Morrowind has been saved. And Nerevar’s soul might rest.”

“Azura--” Nerevar scowled in response. 

“It has been over three millennia, hortator.” Azura’s smooth reply came. “Are you not tired of this tragedy?”

“My son still needs me--”

“Your power wanes even now, and you know this.”  Azura’s reply came. “A soul should not be as active as yours is, haunting the living. You do not rest in the home of your ancestors. You do not rest even in Moonshadow.” Steren’s eyes widened. “Through force of will you have continued on, but I know internally you weep for the sharmat’s death.” Nerevar looked away now, still scowling. “Your soul cannot survive much longer without a rest. You will cease to be.” 

Steren didn’t want to say goodbye either. Tears were running down his face at the news, but he nodded his head. 

“Go.” Steren forced a smile. 

“Steren--”

“I don’t want to be responsible for the death of both of my fathers.” He had admitted. “If you leave now, it won’t be goodbye forever, right?” 

The look Nerevar gave him was indescribably painful. 

“I’ll see you again one day, right?” Nerevar wrapped his arms around him, trying in vain to hold him tight. “And I’ll give you a real hug then, Dad.” He wanted to hold Nerevar back in return, but he had long since learned he couldn’t. Only in his dreams could he. But the cool embrace was oddly soothing. 

“Of course.” Nerevar shook with sobs himself. “I’ll be waiting for you, little star. With open arms.” 

With that, the golden light faded, as Nerevar pressed his hand to his cheek, smiling at him the best he could through his own ghostly tears. 

And then it was just Steren and Azura in the chamber now. 

“You have done well, righting the wrongs of the past.” Azura smiled again. “You are truly a precious child to undertake this monumental task. And to you I am eternally grateful.” She should be, honestly. Nerevar couldn’t be reborn to do it, so here he was answering for the sins of his fathers, correcting their wrongs and setting everything back on course. He got the divine disease, went through hell and back, and had to kill one of his fathers with his own hands and blasphemous tools. 

“I can grant you whatever wish you desire.” Azura’s presence was even warmer as she came close, though given the heat of the heart chamber he wished it wasn’t; he missed the cool, spectral touch of his father already. Yet, despite the pain clouding his senses, he tried to think. A daedric prince offering a favor was a big deal. Many would wish for pleasures beyond their wildest dreams, or fame and future. His whole family line had been cursed with rotten luck, and he could finally make something of himself…

Yet, none of that had any appeal. To be honest, before being shipped off to Morrowind he had no idea what to do with his life. Given he hadn’t even reached his 100th year and was still barely an adult by dunmer standards, he thought he would have some time to figure it out. And now that he saw his past life and finally learned all he wanted to and more…

Well. He didn’t know what he wanted from life. How was he supposed to go on alone, even with wealth and fame? All he would be thinking about is, in the afterlife his fathers might be waiting for him. 

“...I just want my parents back.” Steren admitted after a few moments of silence.

“You know I cannot bring back the dead.” Azura frowned. 

“I know.” Steren replied. “Instead I’d rather… Just be with them.” It was unspoken what he was asking for, but he thought he implied it well enough:

He was asking for Azura to finally let him rest too. To put him out of his misery. He had done his part, and the kindest thing she could do for him is to finally let him rest peacefully in the presence of his parents. He already made peace with his death on the long trek up Red Mountain, though he never told Nerevar that fact. 

After a moment of silence, Azura closed her eyes. “I see.” She approached even closer. “I can reunite you with them then, if that is what you wish.”

“It is.” Steren was certain. Even if she didn’t take his life here, he didn’t expect to live much longer with the injuries he sustained anyways. 

“Are you truly prepared to leave this all behind?” She asked again. “There will be no going back.”

“Positive…” Nerevar would lecture him, cursing him to the deadlands and back, but Steren was so very, very tired. He would take the lecture, comfortably in his father’s arms once again, before finally having a nice, long rest. 

“Then that shall be my gift to you.” 

White was the next thing he could see. All encompassing, painful white, as he quickly went from feeling far too hot to feeling frigid. 

And then he was falling. And falling fast. Seren scrambled, activating his slowfall ring, his heart accelerating and lungs still burning. Still, the enchantment could only cushion his fall and try as he might to flail around in the air, to get to dry land he could see, he ended up falling into the water. 

“Fuck!” Steren swore. The cold felt like knives digging into his skin, and before he knew it he felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating despite his head being above water, as he continued to flail towards the beach. He climbed himself out of the frigid waves eventually, shivering, now soaking wet. 

Azura had promised him he’d get to see his parents, but he never expected Moonshadow or the ancestral realm to be… Cold and snowy. There wasn’t a whole lot of snow in Mournhold after all. Yet here he was, now soaking wet and freezing, snow on the hills he could see. 

If he was dead, did it matter if he was cold? That was a question he had. It sure felt like a pressing issue though, so he continued to swear and curse, trying to think. How should he keep warm? He wasn’t used to the cold growing up somewhere subtropical and then being shipped to Vvardenfell where the volcano kept the climate oddly warm compared to the neighboring country of Skyrim. 

So he pressed on. Maybe Nerevar wanted to retreat to a colder area of Moonshadow. All Steren needed to do was find a place to warm up and find him. 

That was easier said than done though. 

He had underestimated the problems with wet clothing. His robe froze, forcing him to discard it, along with a chunk of his armor still stuck to it. He pulled out a cloak, trying to keep warm, but the wind seemed to seep through the fabric to the wet silk under it and still left him shivering. He wandered and wandered, his hands going numb and his head aching like he had a terrible migraine. 

And then he started feeling oddly feverish, like he did back in the heart chamber. His clothes felt like they were wet from sweat, trapping the heat against him until it was burning. He would have stripped down more, except he was afraid if he did he would stop moving. He had to keep moving forward. One step after the other. His dad was here, and he didn’t want to stop.

Faintly, he heard people talking. His ears perked up as he blinked. His vision seemed blurry and blown out, stinging from the harsh glare of sunlight on pure white. Yet, over a small hill, he could make out two familiar faces:

A golden skinned chimer in House Indoril armor, white hair, and blue eyes. A dunmer with long, black hair and red eyes, a third eye on his forehead. He knew their voices too--he couldn’t possibly be mistaken. There were other people there but Steren didn’t pay them much mind; his fathers being here, together, was much more important.

“Dad!” Steren called out, his voice hoarse, before coughing again. Sucking in the air to yell felt like needles were pricking his already injured lungs inside and out, but he was so close--! Just a bit further. He willed his numb legs to push him forward through the heavy snow. 

Nerevar gave him a confused look, before Steren wrapped his arms around him. 

“Woah--” Nerevar stumbled slightly as Steren threw all of his weight onto Nerevar. “Oh gods, he’s freezing!” 

“His hair is frozen--” Voryn said, confused and equally concerned for the strange dunmer who seemed delirious from the cold. Yet, Steren could barely even understand the words coming out of their mouths. All he could do was cling to Nerevar, relishing in the fact his dad felt solid and warm under his touch rather than ephemeral and cold. 

“Here,” Nerevar unclasped his cloak, wrapping it around his shoulders. “C’mere, let’s get you someplace to warm up, alright?”

[deusexlachina]

Cheeseaged Exocolonist Age 16 (Again): Be so good at the game that I doom all of humanity and have to backtrack significantly

In which I, the player, get trapped in a time loop to fix my mistake (of not making horrible decisions).

I reach age 17 and realize I made a slight oopsie by never successfully meeting Symbiosis, a godlike alien(?) lifeform trying to make peace with humanity. Unfortunately, the only human Sym has met so far is Dys, Tangent's Equally-Maladjusted-And-Evil-But-In-A-Different-Way brother.

The two fall in love in a Romeo-and-Juliet situation, but this will not result in peace, largely because Dys is basically the kind of internet leftist who thinks that talking to people and working together is politically naive and that violence is just inherently Better Praxis. So it is up to Sol to arrange peace between humans and Gardeners.

So I really should've been going out of my way to meet Sym and...didn't do that. I only caught a glimpse of him once, but you need to encounter him three times - I'm two First Contacts short. The reason is that the most reliable way to meet Sym is to get into dangerous events and then lose the skill check. This will put you in a near-death situation where only Sym's intervention will save you, giving hints of another intelligent species on Vertumna.

The "lose the skill check" part is a little tricky, though, if you've gotten into the habit of passing every skill check with flying colours. I am so powerful that even Sym fears me. It is lonely at the top.

I reload an earlier save, consulting the Exocolonist fandom for which events trigger Sym, because I have long ago forgotten how to lose. Going to people for help is almost as embarrassing, but just as necessary, as flirting with Vace to squeeze more friendship out of the bastard.

WIth this guidance, I press forward once more. This time, I get myself swarmed with adorable hopeyes, which are not actually dangerous but could kill you if you just helplessly sit there, which I do, playing no cards at all. Sym comes to my rescue.

Then, I steal a manticore's egg that I don't even want, for the sole purpose of pissing off a manticore. Manticores are very dangerous, though I could easily defeat them with stimming. But I choose not to. Sym intervenes to save me from the inevitable consequences of my own actions. He puts the egg back where it was, either to mollify the manticore or, just as likely, to prevent me from choking myself on the shell.

This pattern of alarmingly self-destructive behaviour is enough to help me track down Sym, who is hiding in a glowing golden exclamation point. I yell out his name, because I've met him before, and we start the process of peacemaking by presenting him with a gift of knowledge and internet memes.

I then conclude my sixteenth year, ready to move forward again and step into year 17. Then I realize that I forgot to take screenshots for any of this.

I do not reload again.

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2024- Day 20- Alien- Part 3

Mistress Of The Hive

As always, huge thanks to @borealwrites for their wonderful Monster March 2024 Prompt List.

Mistress of the Hive

“Are you ok?” Havi asked worriedly. 

“Yes. Are all the former princesses safe?” Hazi asked tiredly, ready to collapse. 

“Yes. All 38 of them. And the hundreds of consorts are taking to the specialists like wings to the air and Jaxx said he himself will handle their integration into the Hive.” Havi proudly informed her. 

“Even Little Stubborn?” Hazi asked. 

“Yes, even Little Stubborn.” Havi reassured her as they helped her up and brought her back to the resting quarters for them. 

“Oh thank the ancestors.” Hazi said as she collapsed into her own nest and got some much needed rest while her true sisters cleaned her up while she rested. 

“We need to contact the unmated Consorts. There needs to be something we can do to counteract the Supers.” Hebi insisted lowly as she saw how exhausted her sister was. 

“I’m sure once things can calm down, we can do so quietly and most importantly- discreetly.” Hizi whispered before they got Hazi cleaned up and then got ready to rest for the night themselves. 

Hazi awoke to a bare and lonely Royal Nursery Drone Quarters and practically tried to fly out of bed when she realized what time it was from the Hive Mind. 

“Woah, easy there Mistress.” Klip offered as he perused the quarters nonchalantly as Hazi nearly broke her own neck, snapping it towards him, alarmed he was in here with her. And even more alarmed that they were alone in these quarters. As she did a quick check of herself to make sure she was ok and hadn’t been, may the stars forbid, molested by him or anyone else while she slept. 

“What the fff….why are you here Super Consort Klip?” She tried to ask as she hastily got out of her nest as she had to keep herself from really cussing him out for intruding into her shared quarters she shared with her true sisters as she realized now that she was up. She felt just a touch dizzy and disorientated, almost like she was drunk. But she didn’t usually drink. 

“Oh, you really shouldn’t stop yourself from really saying what you want to say.” Klip grinned far too smugly for her taste and in a tone that was far too friendly for her taste either. Oh this made her gut throw alarms and put her on edge. Something was up. She just didn’t know exactly what it was yet. 

“I don’t wish to die today.” Hazi bit out through her gritted teeth as she clenched her jaw and tried to remind herself that she still needed to treat him, a Superior, with respect. 

“Who would dare kill the Mistress of the Royal Nursery Comb?” He posed rather rhetorically as he paused to turn and face her, appreciating the mused way her own fine hair covering her body was going in every which way from her turning over in her sleep over the course of him watching over her. And while he had wanted to fix it for her while she slept, he knew if he did, she’d probably kill him for touching her without her consent when she was in a vulnerable situation. And it was not appropriate for him to do so. He had to remind himself that while he had gotten a chance to build his appreciation for her while she slept and recovered, she was probably still mentally in the same moment of time when she was last awake. 

“The Super Queen and her Super Consorts for any infraction they can find.” She answered plainly. 

“No. That isn’t even close to correct, far from it. If anything every Super Consort, including myself, would gladly do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. You’re the Mistress of the Royal Nursery Comb, you’re the most important individual in the Hive, besides the Queen herself.” He offered with a pleasant and charming tone and smile before he started to close the distance between them. 

“Bullshit.” Hazi spat wearily before Klip outright laughed at her outburst. 

“Sorry, it’s not bullshit. It’s the truth. Honest. But I’m really proud of you for saying what you’re really thinking. Please do not be intimidated by myself or any of the other Super Consorts. We’re not here to kill anyone else. Promise. Although, to you, that’s um, that’s all you’ve seen us do. Sorry.” He apologized as he seemed to grow just a bit awkward as he took a step back and even shrunk back a little to seem a little less intimidating. 

“But it’s really important that you know, that despite your own personal feelings about it, the fact is that you are The Mistress of more than just the Royal Comb but the Entire Nest Complex.” He repeated as he tried to grow a little bolder and a little more confident in both tone and posture which only made Hazi frown harder at him. He was the one who was 8 feet tall of nothing but super terrifying spikes and Super Modifications and the one who should have been the more impressive and intimidating. But under her frowning gaze, he felt not even an inch tall under her scrutiny. He chastised himself for building what she was in his mind. Only for her to wake up and still be on high alert like it was the first day all over again. As horrible as that had been for both of them. He needed to keep trying to reason with her and assure her and reassure her, the same way she had done at their first meeting. 

“But you really should consider the following facts as well. You see, a Queen is only as powerful as her hive. Without Nursery Aids, A Queen has no Hive to control through the Hive Mind. And is completely incapable of even caring for a single larvae, let alone a whole hive of them. No, any Jika with even a microgram of a brain knows that it’s the Nursery Aids that hold all the real power in a Hive. You knew it before we ever came. And it’s still as true now than it’s ever been before. No matter who the Queen is. But usually, normal Nursery Drones are so underdeveloped in higher brain function to know it, or really realized it. But not you and others like you. You know you hold all the real power here. You demonstrated it before we ever came and even when you were at rest and recovering from your overwork. The Hive practically had to scramble while also practically being at a standstill until your own true sisters had to take up the reins in your stead and simply have tried to do what you would normally do in such circumstances. And in the time that you’ve been out and recovering, it’s become abundantly clear to everyone,  even especially the Queen herself and definitely to myself and all the other Royal Consorts, Super or not- of just how key and vital of a role you play in the Hive. Queen Kat deeply regrets not treating you with your due respect and dignity when she first met you. And has been anxiously awaiting your awakening to try to make amends and very much wants ‘a do over’. We all do, You are owed a grand apology and great amends to make up for such a lack in decorum. And I would like to be the first to offer an apology. I’m very sorry you were not treated with more care. Or given your due respect and dignity. And if there is anything I can ever do to make up for that. Please let me know.” He offered. 

“You can start by getting out of my personal quarters and never being alone with me in them without an order from the Queen to isth with me in them as your punishment from her for your lack of performance, as is the way. But seeing as how there is no such order for either one of us. Your presence here is not appropriate and we are both courting death being in this circumstance and situation.” Hazi urged him. 

“Right, about that, that’s um, actually been abolished, that practice. Queen Kat abolished it herself.” Klip offered. 

“Then you really need to leave. Because the last thing I want is for Super Queens Kat’s Super Consorts to be anywhere near me or even in here, especially in my private quarters, especially alone with me or any of my sisters. You have no business in this section of the nest or the Hive without a direct order from Queen Kat.” Hazi repeated adamantly. 

“Actually I do, I do have an order to be here.” He paused and then showed Hazi the order given on her behalf for all of the Super Consorts to guard Hazi while she rested and recovered and do whatever it would take to ensure she rested and recovered and woke up again. And even opened up the vat of Royal Jelly to feed Hazi and her sisters and for them to use it as they saw fit in reference to the other ‘newly reclassified’ pupae and larvae, which just got put into a new and special comb. Just for them. The Executive Comb. Just on the other side of the Royal Comb. 

“Why?” Hazi found herself asking as she tried not to get overwhelmed at the pages and pages of new notifications. 

“Look, we both know that a Queen can only control a Hive Mind. And a Hive Mind with no Hive, is just an organic computer. And incapable of anything and everything without drones to carry it out, or a Queen to control it. But, a ‘Career Changed Nursery Drone’ as you so eloquently put it? Which in reality are really just Royal Nursery Executives. All of you have turned out to be the greatest classification of Jika possible. Because then you get the best of everything. Which you have already proven yourself to be the epitome of. You have the same intelligence of any Queen, if not more so, and your intellect even surpasses Super Queen Kat’s. But you have no selfishness, nor the singularity of the mindset where you only care about the Hive Mind and your control of it. Instead you are rather beautifully and eloquently independent of it. You have the ability to tell it ‘no’. And not only can you refuse its hold and its orders. But you can override it and instead input your own unique commands and it obeys you. Over the Queen. Even over Super Queen Kat now. If that’s not the epitome of real power, then I don’t know what is. But you wield yours for the betterment of the Hive, even down to the individual level, which is quite remarkable. I’ve never known a Hive Mind to take orders from a Queen and a Royal Nursery Executive. But since I’ve been here, I’ve been researching all there is to know about your very special classification. I’ve used your time in recovering from your efforts in the Royal Nursery Comb to look back through this Hive Mind’s history to even the generations before you and your mentor. It was this Hive that was the first to implement the procedure and protocols the way they are now and it’s spread from here. And only success has come in its wake.” He praised as his new change in address to her had Hazi pausing to double check her own interface with the Hive Mind to see that she, and all of her sisters did indeed now have a new special classification. Royal Nursery Executives second only to the Queen herself. And actually superior to both the mated and unmated Consorts, whether mated or not. And she was still the Mistress of the Royal Comb and the Head of the Entire Nursery Complex. A place only the most senior of Nursery Drone would earn after a lifetime of service and experience. She was now the youngest to ever ascend to such a station. But this still felt like a trap. So she stayed still and instead watched him closely and never took her eyes off him or his movements. 

“Queen Kai never once challenged or even bothered to look at what -you would continually override her orders in the Hive Mind. She entrusted you with the Entire Nursery Comb completely and was grateful you were so intelligent and capable, so that besides laying the larvae themselves, she didn’t have to bother with anything else to do with it. Instead, her entire Nursery, she happily passed over to your capable hands when your mentor passed last year. In fact, you even redesigned the entire Nest Complex once you came out of stasis once you were fully formed and found a way to re-engineer it so that it not only worked better, but every drone worked better both in and out of it. And every other Hive took notes and are now copying you and what you have already done to gain the same success. Especially once you took over from your mentor last year once she passed from old age, who was just like you in most respects, the hive, despite Queen Kai’s weakness, grew stronger every moment after that. You were the one that implemented earth chickens and their eggs, along with starfish and sea urchin into the diets to improve the health and vitality of every drone in this hive even before that. You are the reason this Hive is as great as it is. No one with half a brain should ever want anything to happen to its most valuable member of this hive. You know as well as I do, Queens come and go, but the Nursery always stays. And, with your enhanced intelligence came the one thing every true drone lacks- a personality. Instead of being selfish, you were selfless. Instead of only following orders, you solved problems before there were even problems to be solved. And the only thing you were really scared of at first introduction- was Queen Kat’s immaturity and overly emotional state. Especially when you knew that her spitefulness would lead to her making mistakes when she would make emotional decisions instead of rational and reasonable ones. Because you can see and sense how young and inexperienced she is. Especially for a Super Queen and you don’t wish for her inexperience and her own faults in personality to undo all of your hard work that you were ready and willing to give your life to save.” He continued. 

“Shit, what day is it?” Hazi asked as she double checked the date and the time and found she had been resting for practically a whole week, but she strangely, wasn’t that voraciously hungry, as she would expect to be from a lack of eating that whole time. But instead, she found she had an aftertaste of something in her mouth that was…odd. But she could find out what it was once Klip left her alone. 

“Yeah, you missed all the commotion. Jaxon and his Isthantari were found, rescued and returned, safe and sound. As are all other previous non mated Royal Class Consorts.” He offered before he let her “see” what had happened while she was out- through his own eyes when the event had been recorded on the Hive Mind. 

“How are you a Mated Consort and still this intelligent? Is it because you are a Super that your higher intellect has remained intact?” Hazi questioned once she was done as she ignored her overstuffed inbox from a week’s worth of missed messages, most of them urgent from the previous unmated Royal Consorts. This was going to take at least two if not three whole days just to go through just the messages and another few days to play catch up with everything else. But it’s not like she had much to do as far as pressing duties she needed to attend to. She was the Mistress of the Royal Comb and Mistress of the Nest Complex, which her true sisters were running quite well in her absence. And the Royal Comb was already cleaned and awaiting future use. But the royal jelly vat was reopened. Maybe that was the taste, the royal jelly. But she didn’t remember it tasting quite that…good? Or rich or comforting perhaps. Like it was pure in a sense that only from Jika native foods. 

“Well if you’re really wondering if Queen Kat is still too small and too young for that, you’re partially right.” He answered honestly. 

“Queen Kat isn’t intimidated by others' intellect. She’s only truly mated one of her Super Consorts. The moment his intellect lessened, she grew irritated that he was “dumbed down” and that his mind atrophied. And he has been kept in stasis to keep his dumbed down body from irritating her. So instead, she has refused to fully isth with us to “save us” the embarrassment of getting dumber. So instead, she keeps us all technically, tethered to her through her own private communications network. That’s why you haven’t been able to hear us. But now that you are the Mistress of the Royal Comb. Now you get to be invited to the private Super Royal Network.” He invited. 

“Only to hear how Queen Kat is looking for any reason to kill me or how you or any other Super Consort will need to plot to kill me? No thank you.” Hazi immediately refused as he seemed to grow pained and frustrated that she was still clinging to such beliefs from those first impressions that he had hoped wouldn’t have been so damning. He had to remind himself, he had had a week to get to an accurate and appreciative understanding of her and this hive. She was still mentally in the first hours. He needed to be patient to give her time to adjust and come to her own accurate understanding and conclusions about him and the others. 

“No, it’s nothing like that. Queen Kat is still young and is still learning. And if anything- coming here- she’s gotten a reality check for the last few days especially. She’s finding that now that she’s here and now that she sees that while this is a great Hive, the legacy Queen Kai left her, is leaving much to be desired. So she’s shaking things up and changing things, just the same way you did once your mentor let you do so once she saw how your ideas and plans could improve things. Queen Kat- truly and honestly- does not wish to cause you or your other true sisters- any harm at all. If anything, she’s trying to imitate your example and emulate it. Since your legacy is the only thing she has found that is great and functional and practically the only thing that is working right. Please, any ill will you felt has completely left both the conscious and subconscious of the entire Royal Family, both new and former. If anything, Queen Kat has been quite anxious for you to wake up. Because she’s finding, even though she’s a Super Queen, she fears she’s in over her head. So instead of looking for a reason to kill you. She’s the one who has tried to restart things with you and your sisters by elevating you and reclassifying you to what you are now to try to gain your forgiveness for her own rudeness and disrespect at your first meeting and interactions.” He offered apologetically. 

“Then she and the rest of you need to forgive me for being slow to accept such changes. For you, you’ve all had a week to make such adjustments. Such things are only moments old for me. It is a lot for me to get used to and accept, I’m overwhelmed.” Hazi offered. 

“Yes, of course. Please, take all the time you need. We will patiently wait for you to adjust, however long that would take.” He readily accepted. But that didn’t exactly make her feel better. If anything, it only made her that much more suspicious. 

“Here, would you feel better if you just had a private network with just me then? I’m the Head Royal Consort. I’m Queen Kat’s Right Hand Man, quite literally. Nothing gets out of her, without going through me first. You earned my respect and you earned my trust with your actions already. I completely understand your need for secrecy. It’s what has kept you and those that came before you- alive. Also, the other unmated Royal Consorts of Queen Kai, would also like to invite you and your sisters onto their network as well. I get your hesitance, reluctance and weariness. No Super has taken over any Hive in this Quadrant before. So all of us are just now getting over our weariness of each other and this is new for all of us. We should give ourselves some grace as we adjust.” He offered before she reluctantly allowed herself to accept just his private network invitation and mentally had to practically rub at her eyes to make sure she was “seeing” it as what it really was. 

And what she found was completely unlike anything she had ever seen or felt before. It was a private network to put all other networks to shame. Her own private one with her sisters practically felt like a shady dive bar compared to this sheer luxuriousness and its many layers and levels of security and levels of superiority. She had the ability to even use this to reach out to other Hive Minds far beyond the Quadrant and even this entire Galaxy and far beyond. 

“Wow.” She breathed in surprised awe. As it felt like she was on an observation deck of a special spaceship. Able to see her Hive from the outside and able to see all others from this vantage of the private network as she could even see the other private networks of the Hive from here. Even as “closed off” as they had tried to make them. What really looked like having windows in a shop covered in paper to conceal what was inside them. It looked rather pitiful actually. 

“Here, now you know how a private network is supposed to look like, and feel like and be. Use it to remake your own.” He offered before he went to leave her both in body and in this private network to a “door” that led to the private network just on the other side where she could perceive all the other Super Consorts and even the Queen on the other side as she noticed all other doors to all other networks- locked from her side so that no one would ever come in here without her inviting them and allowing them in- in the first place. 

“What is this taste in my mouth?” She suddenly asked as she was pulled from the Private Network back into her own reality where they were still standing together in the empty Nursery Drone Comb. 

“Food that was to sustain as you rested and recovered.” He tried to answer delicately. 

“Why are you doing any of this? Or all of it - if it’s just a trap?” She asked, still not believing this situation was as benign as he made it appear to be. 

“You wound me by even thinking such things.” He put his hands over his chest as if she had really stabbed him which only made her frown at him deeper and harder as his attempts to be funny and charming practically fell flat which only made him feel that much more awkward. 

“This feels like a trap.” She insisted. 

“Well, there is nothing I can do about how you feel about stuff. But I promise and swear on the very Royal Nursery Executives that you just risked your life trying to save, that it isn’t a trap. Not at all, not even a little.” He readily offered as he moved to leave again. 

“I swear if you’re just doing this so you and all of the other Consorts get to have your own fuck toys in me and my sisters, I’ll rip your dick off myself. To isth with a Nursery Drone has always been a punishment for a Mated Consort for not pleasing the Queen and un mated Consorts are never allowed to be in the Nest long enough to make isthing possible either. And enjoying such isthing is punishable by death for any Nursery Drone.” Hazi growled lowly as he had to walk past her to leave. 

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. Again, Queen Kat is recognizing the Private Isthantari status among the non-mated Royal Consorts. Both non Jika and even Jika ones. If they will be private and stay private.” He informed her as he tried to side step her and fidget with his interface before he left. 

“Then I’m not interested in being anyone’s “private Isthantari”. Because to have any Isthantari besides the Queen is just gambling with your own life and gambling with the Queen’s good graces and moods. The Queen should be the only Isthantari in the Hive.” She insisted as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her body to face his once again. 

“Usually, yes. But I wouldn’t make such a rash decision so soon. How about you just give this new arrangement a little bit of time to adjust to it. Just like with everything else. Take your time simply adjusting. But otherwise, I’m looking forward to seeing what else you can create now that you have better tools and better supplies to build with and use.” He offered before he left. Leaving her to simply huff before she looked in the mirror and scoffed at her disheveled appearance as she grabbed her brush and brushed out her own fur the way she liked to have it done. 

How dare he look at her as if she was the prettiest Queen he had ever seen before. Especially when she looked like this. She looked like she got into a tumble with a pile of larvae. She looked so….stupidly well rested. Since when did her own royal colors get so bright? So polished? Was it the Royal Jelly? She needed answers. ASAP

[impishsensei-a]

zorkaya asked: ❝ loneliness is often the byproduct of a gifted mind. ❞

it's a rare moment of calm and seriousness between them, and satoru finds it hard to disagree. it's the story of his life, after all. for as long as he can remember, he's craved closeness and for someone to just understand, but there's only room for one at the top, and naturally there's a loneliness that comes along with it that hadn't even really started to hit him until he'd gotten older. would he trade his power for it? no. he doesn't really wish his reality on anyone else. satoru knows he's meant for it and knows he can handle it.

he's the strongest. comes with the territory. sometimes, though, he does like to imagine it. he likes to imagine how different it could've been if he'd been born as just some guy, and not as gojo satoru. it's a fun thought experiment. he'd still have his best friend. he would've had a normal life. it would've been chill. he wouldn't be satisfied that way, though.

"don't i know it," satoru sighs, slouching into his seat. it almost seems arrogant to consider oneself so gifted they're completely beyond anyone else's reach, but satoru and zarina are both familiar with that alienation. he's pretty sure that's part of why they've gravitated toward each other. they're kindred spirits... kind of. satoru's not entirely sure about her motivations, but so long as she doesn't try to get in his way (he's sure she won't), he doesn't bother prying.

"well, at least the two of us can accompany each other in this loneliness and ease it up just a bit. does it count as still being lonely if we're on the same boat here?"

[qnewsau]

The alternative Christmas

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/the-alternative-christmas/

The alternative Christmas

WORDS Tim Alderman

The Christmas happy family scenario is a very common, almost aggressive, marketing tactic as we go through the lead up to Christmas Day.

I have never really gotten into the whole traditional family thing at this time of the year…it holds too many sad memories.

The death of my younger brother, the deaths of friends during the HIV years have all led to a certain melancholy during the ‘festive’ season, and I’m not alone in that.

Add in those of us getting older who have lost all their family, or those from alienation or dysfunctional backgrounds. For many it is a lonely time of the year.

I spent my one and only Christmas Day on my own, just after I temporarily moved to Melbourne. It was a maudlin day, ending up in a haze of scotch drinking.

I swore it would never happen again. Like many from dysfunctional backgrounds, my alternative ‘gay family’ have always filled the missing gaps in my life, always in a more caring way than I otherwise would have spent it.

So what can we do to alleviate the loneliness of Christmas?

When I lived in Darlinghurst, chats with friends at the pub made me realise how many had nowhere to go on Christmas Day, so we started organising Orphans’ Christmas at our apartment in The Dorchester. It was a totally open invitation, spread by word-of-mouth.

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We usually hosted a dozen-or-so people on the day, with others coming later in the day from family gatherings that just got ‘too much’! In the early days I catered myself until the expense got too much. It became a bring-a-plate-and-a-small-gift thing. I loved those days. They were a lot of fun.

These days I go to my local club with a couple of close friends, though not the cheapest of ways to celebrate. For those who find themselves on their own, many local charities put on Christmas Day spreads, and a visit from Santa. These are generally either no cost, or low-cost events, and can be a fun way to meet new people from diverse backgrounds.

If you do have to spend the day alone, don’t let the loneliness get the better of you. Celebrate in your own company…make an occasion of it. Decorate your space, prepare yourself a full three-course feast, buy and wrap yourself a gift… or many, or keep gifts given to you to unwrap on the day.

Move yourself past what the day used to represent, and embrace it as a celebration of self, and indulge yourself. Merry Christmas everyone! -Positive Life NSW is the representative body for all people living with HIV in NSW. To find out more go to www.positivelife.org.au

Challenging stigma by staying connected

Finding strength in the storm

Manage the impact of social media

Let them know

When life throws a curveball

HIV, partying and staying safe

HIV Long Term Survivors Awareness Day

HIV and moving away from the ‘big smoke’

Be a local disability advocate

HIV healthcare in the bush

Making connections when you’re HIV positive

Let’s throw out the resolutions!

Surviving the holiday season

I’m still here: living with HIV since 1984

HIV and Mental Wellbeing

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[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

palm tree, papyrus, camellia?

this one got a little long, sorry.

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

lmao oh yeah. i've always been prone to sympathizing with villains. and i'm gonna use the term villain here pretty loosely as just a "bad guy" (or someone who is portrayed as such), regardless of whether they're the protagonist or antagonist or a side character.

but a few "villains" i love: vader/palpatine/dooku/thrawn, light yagami (or L to a slightly lesser extent), azula (and zuko before his turn), kuvira, lelouch, itachi uchiha, silco, gendo ikari, griffith, walter white, littlefinger, dany, general hummel, general shepherd, captain ahab, dutch (he was a good man! a man with a plan! manipulated by a rat.), hans landa, judge holden, ozymandias, homelander (what can i say? he's literally me. thank you patriots!), satan, etc.

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

lmao "endzeit" by heaven shall burn. it's not hard to tell what i like about it. first, it's high energy and aggressive. but the lyrics are what really get me. i used to listen to this song back in my "anarchist" days in high school, back when i had dreams of violent revolution and martyrdom. ah, youth! but the energy and the lyrics still resonate with me today. it gets me hyped whenever i listen to it. man, i haven't listened to this in a minute. brings me back. memories of listening to it in the locker room before football practice or walking home from school under the orange glow of the autumn sun. it reminds me of all those other anarchist and punk kids i used to hang out with. i can't believe that was over a decade ago.

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

i mentioned a bit about my siblings in another ask last night and how different i am from them. that should give you an idea. i was basically the opposite of them in almost every way. as a kid i was "the quiet one" or "the strange one." was always a running joke in my family that i was adopted or that i was secretly an alien or something. i was content being alone, i read a lot of books, i loved animals and catching bugs, i looked at things through my microscope and the stars through my telescope. my brother had posters of models and celebrities and dirt bikes. i had the declaration of independence and old glory hanging on my wall, and posters of dinosaurs and spartans and romans.

my brother had shelves full of trophies he got from playing a variety of sports. my shelves were full of books or random trinkets or oddities i've collected and displayed or science experiments or terrariums/jars of different insects and animals. my brother had a lot of friends and he was always going to parties. i had no friends except imaginary ones. i often attribute my very active, vibrant imagination to the fact that i spent so much of my childhood playing "pretend" all by myself. i was a very curious child. always a curious child, exploring and going on lonely adventures and doing experiments and reading books.

do i think i've changed a lot? not that much. i've gotten bigger and stronger. i used to be a small, scrawny little thing. i've also become a lot more confident/aggressive. as a child i was shy and timid. but for the most part i think i'm very similar. i'm look at my computer desk and my bookshelf and it looks much like my room looked as a child. i still have many of the same passions/interests, just deeper and more expanded. i'm still the strange one.

[mishibashimori]

Two Of Us || Cecil Stedman x Reader || Chapter 7

Synopsis: You are an alien who crash landed onto Earth. You have no name, and no more home to go back to. The Guardians of the Globe have rescued you and brought you to get intensive care under the great Cecil Stedman. In helping out your new home, Earth, will you develop a relationship with the coldest man you know?

General Info: AFAB Gender Neutral Reader, Cecil is Younger in the Beginning and it Will Lead to Current Events, Reader is a Bubbly Optimist, Reader Description is Intentionally Vague so You can Imagine the Alien Species They Are However You’d Like

TW: Verbal and Physical Past Abuse, Failed Pregnancy Mentions, Depression, Self Depreciation, Eventual Sexual Content

Specific Chapter TW: PTSD Panic Attack

———————————

The hospital wing of the GDA was alight with chatter. You had gotten the news only a few minutes ago that Alana had awoken, and you spent no time racing to her hospital room. Holly of course was also there, beaming with joy as she peppered her girlfriend’s face with kisses. Alana had been out of commission for a week due to her injuries. It was a lot better than the alternative, death, if you hadn't intervened and taken some of the damage onto yourself. Your wounds had healed just fine, almost as soon as the next day, and you would’ve done it a million times over to help her.

“We’re so happy to have you back,” Holly said to Alana, absolutely delighted, “we’ve missed you.”

“I’m happy to be back.” Alana gave her a kiss on the nose and turned to you. “I’ve been dying to see everyone again, literally. What did I miss?”

“Not too much, don’t worry.” You assured her. “But I bet you must be starving. Want me to grab you both something?”

“That would be great!” Alana exclaimed, sitting straight up in her bed. “The cafeteria has some bunny chow that’s to die for. It’s something my mom used to make all the time, and it sounds delicious right now.”

“I’ll take the same, thank you.” Holly smiled at you.

“On it!” You stood and headed out, happy to be doing something to help. Winding down the halls, you eventually came upon the cafeteria, ordered, and sat to wait.

It had been a few days since your last conversation with Cecil. You’d seen each other every now and then and said hello, but that was it. Despite your emotions you forced yourself to be patient on the matter. It couldn’t be easy for him to make this decision, and rushing him wouldn’t help matters either. So, you waited, distracting yourself with Earth television and puzzles; that really seemed to be all the entertainment they had available here. With Alana now awake though, you didn’t feel half as lonely anymore. Training with your friends, The Guardians of the Globe, helped too.

“You know that isn’t free, right?” You almost leaped out of your skin as Cecil’s voice sounded next to you.

“Sheesh! Do you ever make a noise?” You chided him lightly, a slight laugh to your voice. “And, wait, what do you mean?”

Cecil nodded towards the cafeteria. “Did you think the food was free here? It’s been going on my tab.” He smirked at you, the amusement in his eyes betraying his jokingly annoyed tone.

“No way,” you gawked at him, feeling stupid, “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t think too much about it.”

Cecil shrugged, taking a seat next to you. “It’s fine. Not like we’re paying you at the moment anyway.” There was a brief lapse in silence as you two sat together. It had been a while since you’d spoken at length.

You glanced at him. “I’ve been thinking about something.” He glanced back at you, quirking his eyebrow in question. “When I first got here, you said you didn’t know much about my planet, yet you knew the flower my people give to the sick.”

Cecil looked down at his lap, chuckling to himself. “After you arrived we sent some satellites to uh, ‘freshen up our knowledge’ on your species.” He scratched his chin. “I was curious as to how you knew English, yet you’d never been in contact with Earth. Didn’t know a species could have a part of their brain for translation.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You learned all that from some satellites?”

“Science is amazing.” He snorted, looking back up at you. “But we learned the last bit from your brain scans. The satellites just picked up random strings of information. We always knew of your planet, just… never had a reason to interact until now.”

“I see.” You responded simply, impressed yet slightly disturbed. “You humans are thorough.”

“Just me.” He turned to look down the hallway that led to the hospital rooms. “I hear Alana’s awake, that’s good. The team’s not the same without her.” He turned back to you. “What do you think, by the way? About joining the Guardians. You’re keeping up well, and you definitely have the skills.”

Your cheeks burned at the sudden compliment. “Oh—uh, I like it.” Then you gave a slight tilt of your head, thinking harder. “But I don’t know. It’s terrifying to think about saving people. I’m happy to help, and I love the team but…” you trailed off, looking down.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, you still have time to make a decision. And I get it, believe me, it is a scary thing.” Cecil nudged your shoulder with his. “You’ll always have a home here, whatever you choose.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been so nice to me,” you blurted out. It had been on your mind since you arrived here, and while you didn’t mean to bring it up so abruptly, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. It puzzled you as to why this man- let alone this planet, would help you to this extent. To question it seemed to be looking a gift horse in the mouth, but the nagging in your brain burst through. “It scared me at first. I thought maybe it came with a price. It was hard for me to believe that people really- well, cared.”

“From what you’ve told me, I can understand why you’d think that. And I don’t want to lie to you, at first my intentions weren’t… something you might approve of.” Cecil leaned back in his chair. “Fix up an alien who might have useful abilities, and have them join the Guardians. Or just have you help on your own. I feel guilty about it now that I’ve gotten to know you, but my job, the world, came first. If I had an asset in my debt, it could mean saving lives.” He cast his eyes down guiltily, unable to look at you. “That’s why I didn’t want to get any closer to you, I felt horrible.”

You swallowed hard, anger flickering to life in your chest. His words were like a knife to the heart. “I was wrong about you.” You murmured in disbelief. “I’m so stupid.” Part of you knew it was ridiculous to have convinced yourself of anything else. Of course that was the goal. You were a stranger to this world, why else would they help you? This world had no obligation to you, and yet it hurt so bad when it was said aloud.

Cecil’s head snapped toward you, true panic etching his features. “I don’t— I don’t think that way anymore. I would never— I wouldn’t of forced you to-”

“How dare you!” You snarled, bolting up from your seat. Flashes of your past raced through your mind, an uncontrollable hurricane of hurt and trauma wiping away anything but fury. “I trusted you, and you wanted to use me?”

“No!” Cecil also stood, gently reaching his hand towards you. You shoved it away, tears starting to stream down your flushed face.

“You told me I’m not an object, you told me that!” Your voice was raising by the word, now a shout. An uncontrollable tremor shook through you. It felt awful to yell, and your mind was screaming for you to stop, but spite and a rising anxiety spurred you on.

“And I meant it, every word.” Cecil talked softly, but his voice trembled. “I wouldn’t dream of using any of that against you. That wasn't what I wanted to do, I swear. The more I learned about you, the more I couldn’t stop thinking about you. In-in a good way- ugh, this sounds terrible.” He rubbed his forehead, looking frustrated with himself. “If I’d known about your past from the start I wouldn’t have even thought that way. It was wrong, and I’m so sorry.” His distraught eyes searched yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I would never want to hurt you.”

Taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself. Your thoughts were still raging with painful memories, the hurt in your chest throbbing hotly, but you forced yourself to think straight. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.” He took a small step towards you. “Thinking about not having you in my life; it tore me up to no end. As hard as I’ve made it to believe, I just- I really like you.” He cringed to himself. “I’m horrible with words- I’m sorry, that sounded like a highschool confession. What I’m trying to say is: you make me feel normal, like a person with no responsibilities. When I’m with you it feels like—like all I have to do is just enjoy being alive.”

All you could do was stare in silence for a while. Conflicting feelings warred through you. This normally cold, steely man looked utterly heartbroken at the thought of hurting you. In the time you’d known Cecil, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the man had a guard. You had seen brief, genuine glimpses into him and relished every moment, but now was more than just a mere glimpse. His features were soft, his posture as harmless and open as he could manage. It was a first to see him this way, and it was because he was truly worried about you.

The previous years of being imprisoned were not easy to erase, to say the least. Your captor wouldn’t hit you per say, but directed his savagery to your brother. He knew you’d heal the poor young boy, so he maliciously manipulated you into transferring the wounds to yourself. It wasn’t something you wanted to talk about at length, at least not now. You’d told Cecil a little but the details seemed too hard to choke out. It seemed silly to think, as it was a horrendous thing for anyone to go through, but you didn’t know how much it had really, truly affected you until now. Sadness radiated through you; had you really become so broken? Had your captor stolen away your trust?

Cecil cast his gaze downward, breathing in deeply. “You have every right to hate me. I hate me too. It was out of line.” You stepped closer, hesitating for only a moment before slowly encircling your arms around him. His back stiffened at first, unsure of your touch, then he wrapped you up tightly. The anger in your body melted away.

“I believe you, and I forgive you.” You mumbled into his chest, relaxing against him. “I’m sorry. Just— so much of the pain in my past centers around being controlled and used. I’ve never come to terms with the trauma that was caused.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He rubbed your head tenderly. Suddenly his eyes flicked past you, and his expression shifted. Confused, you followed his gaze and found a gaggle of cafeteria workers gaping at the two of you. Suddenly sheepish, you broke away from Cecil and shuffled towards the counter, grabbing the food and thanking them before slipping into a secluded part of the far hallway, out of sight.

Cecil joined you a second later. “Don’t worry about them. I’ll have a word.” He motioned for you to start walking, to which he joined next to you. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I’ll make some time for us to talk properly, without anyone staring at us.”

“You’re busy, I understand.” You looked to the side, feeling a bit awkward. “I’m-I’m sorry for yelling, really. I should’ve handled that better.”

“You had an appropriate reaction to someone telling you ‘I was going to indebt you to me secretly’, I think.” Cecil responded, to which you have an uncomfortable chuckle. There was a silence for a moment before he continued. “I will do things to protect this planet that you might not like. I need you to know that. If we want to continue our relationship that’s… something that will need to be addressed.”

“We’ll talk about it.” You responded. “There are things I need you to know as well. And, um, do you offer therapy here, by chance?”

“Of course.” Cecil shoved his hands in his pockets. “If that’s something you’d like to start, we can make that happen. And don’t worry, our psychiatric medicine is some of the best, and trained to deal with more unnatural situations. They provide services to heros, after all.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile. “I think it would be great to get some of this off my chest. And learn how to handle it better.”

“I’ve had to do some in my time here, for sure.” Cecil gave you a sidelong glance. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. I’m proud of you for taking that step. It’s a hard one.”

“Thank you, Cecil.” You both had come to Alana’s room.

Stopping outside the door, Cecil turned to you. “Here.” He placed a square device on the tray of food in your hands. “This is a phone, it’ll allow us to get in contact easier. It’s not the fanciest thing but it’ll do the trick.” He nodded towards the room containing Holly and Alana. “They can teach you to use it, it’s not too hard. I’ll be in touch, rookie.”

In a blazing flash of light Cecil vanished through his teleporter. At first it had startled you, but you’d gotten used to the bright assault to your eyes. You opened the door in front of you and stepped into the room, the smiling faces of Alana and Holly greeting you. “Hey!” You blurted out. “I’m going to therapy!”

——————

Author’s Note:

Hello everyone! I wanted to clarify that the reader of this story has a lot of emotional and mental stuff to heal, so the reader often thinks in a self depreciative way. Everyone deserves to love themselves and I do not want anyone to think that you deserve less or are “broken” because you are traumatized. I have PTSD myself, and I hope I wrote it in a way that can explain that it’s not always easy to think highly of yourself or express your emotions when you’ve been traumatized. I am indeed having the reader go into therapy to learn how to heal from these past traumas. Therapy is great and I really suggest everyone go into therapy, even if you’re not mentally ill. It’s a benefit to everyone!

Disclaimer:

I try to be as accurate as possible to the source material for this fan fiction, but at times I’ll get it wrong. The timelines for the Guardians of the Globe as well as Cecil are not as accurate as they should be but for the sake of wanting to have all the characters in here I fudged it. Just know that I understand not everything is accurate but let’s just try to have a good time regardless!

[fiendishartist2]

ok hc list bc i dont want to go to sleep yet:

-reigen likes to crochet and esp likes to make stuff for other ppl. mob's gotten mountains of mittens, hats, coasters, and even the occassional cardigan or sweater. reigen also has mountains of unfinished projects he put down and never picked up again- he bounces from project to project, moving on when his motivation dries out. likes it better than knitting bc its faster and he thinks the variety of stitches is interesting

-serizawa likes to sew, but specifically for cosplay. when halloween rolls around, he makes costumes for the kids and himself. one year, he offhandedly mentioned to reigen a zelda cosplay he never got to wear, and thats how he and reigen ended up accidentally doing a link and zelda couples costume...

-mob has tried to learn both crochet and knitting, but doesn't really get either. crochet is too complicated, and everytime reigen's tried to teach him, it ends up with mob inexplicably tangled up in his own yarn. however, mob does really like videogames, esp life sims and the occasional fighting game. ppl underestimate him bc normally his reflexes aren't great, but he can play competitive level smash bros. his mains are jigglypuff and pikachu

-ritsu likes journaling but absolutely hates drawing. he also doesn't particularly like creative writing. he only really plays games with mob, but occassionally he'll pick up the odd rpg or anything shou wants to play with him (usually minecraft). he's a big pokemon fan but he's a little embarrassed by it, so he doesn't talk about it outside of shou and (after a very surprising conversation) serizawa

-shou didn't really have any hobbies growing up in claw, but now that he can, he wants to try everything. he picks up drawing again after his dad is arrested and, eventually, tries other mediums like oils and spray paint. he doesn't like how long it takes for normal paints to dry but he loves spray paint almost as much as he loves his sketchbook (which was a gift from ritsu; he won't admit it, but he hand-binded the book himself just for shou). likes to play any type of game, but only when with friends. otherwise, he thinks they're kinda lonely. ritsu is his favourite person to draw

-teru loves fashion, but is abysmal at sewing, so his favourite place to go for weird items is the thrift store. he loves the mall, but only ever goes if mob tags along, saying its more fun that way. the only thing he likes more than dressing up, is dressing others up- esp if that person is mob, since they share a style. he likes rhythm games and karaoke a lot and can play the guitar. has a not-so-secret obsession with vocaloid

-tome tries lots of hobbies but never really sticks to one thing. she likes researching aliens and other supernatural phenomena. has thought of starting a podcast, but isn't sure if she could commit herself to it enough. reigen thinks she needs to stop being so much like him if she wants to get anywhere in life... aside from that, she's really into retro games and takes up any chances she can to play with her friends. she cried once, the first time she saw serizawa's videogame collection

[thefirstknife]

Ah, Mara. I only started playing relatively recently, so I don’t know the stuff from older content quite as well, but I have a massive soft spot for her because as an autistic person that grew up hardcore masking she gives me big Same Hat vibes. I don’t think she was actually meant to be read that way, but she seems like ‘very good at people in theory, kind of terrible in practice’, which is, shall we say, familiar to me.

When I was younger, I learnt how to read people pretty well, and subsequently how to act to get certain responses. But people don’t run on perfect ‘if a then b’ logic, and it took a while for me to understand that, and even longer to appreciate it. So, she sometimes feels like a (space fantasy immortal alien queen) version of my younger self - I hope someday she learns to enjoy people, rather than just working with / around them. Also, the whole thing with the Parasite exotic weapon was very funny.

Oh my god, I love this reading of her. That actually fits so well.

No clue if they intended these things, but yeah, masking is basically Mara's entire personality. She is always masking and putting up different personas for different people. You can only really see the real her in a few lore tabs where she reveals to be very anxious and fairly insecure.

She was like that as a human as well: she felt detached from the rest of the people and wrapped up in her own world. She also basically copied everything Alice Li was doing because she idolised her. Mara struggled with connecting to other people and understanding how to properly engage with them. It started from a young age when she asked her own mother to not be a mother to her (and Osana obliged instead of helping her child).

Even with people closest to her, she starts off with masking. The best example I can think of is when she goes to Sjur to tell her the truth about how she created the Awoken. And she starts off very formally, while Sjur is being really casual.

Last of all Mara went to Sjur Eido. Sjur was making a list of incredibly stupid and fatal tasks to post on a Guardian bounty board. "I want to tell you the truth," Mara said. "Ask me a question."

"If you take any positive integer and halve it if it's even, but triple it and add one if it's odd, and you repeat this process forever, will you always, eventually, reach one?" Sjur Eido demanded.

"Sjur, my faithful Wrath," Mara said, "please take my openness seriously. Though I'm sure Illyn could answer your math problem."

"Okay." Sjur looked at her curiously. "Then here's my question. What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?"

"Can we walk?" Mara asked her.

Note how Sjur is relaxed and teasing, while Mara is talking like she's addressing an official at the court. She is stressed and insecure and trying to appear as the regular Queen Mara to protect herself.

But Sjur knows her. And Sjur sees through the mask. The lore tab after this one is fully just about the two of them talking. Mara confesses the truth. Sjur tells her almost word for word what Alis Li told her ("You are the devil."). And then Sjur just kinda says "Okay. Anyway. What's up really?"

Mara is also struggling with actually telling Sjur which Sjur recognises and uses the "officials at the court" language and phrasing to get it out of Mara:

"Do you want to tell me?"

"No," Mara says. "But I think I have to."

"Okay. Your Majesty, what did you do that made Alis Li throw blackberry tea in your face?"

That's when Mara says it. And she's utterly afraid of Sjur's reaction, except Sjur doesn't hate her for it and Mara is then struggling to figure out how is that possible.

"You're the devil," Sjur says. "You're the lone power who made death. You allowed the possibility of evil. You might be responsible for more preventable suffering than anything that has ever existed."

Mara cannot shake her head or even nod.

"Well," Sjur says, "if you hadn't, none of us would be here. I guess I don't see what else you could've done, if you cared about those we left behind. If you wanted us to be able to go back and help in the fight." She leans forward and very gently kisses the inside of her helmet, where it meets Mara's: in her mind, in that place that is bound to all other Awoken, Mara feels the touch of gentle lips.

Mara is stunned with fear when she hears Sjur's first set of statements, but then Sjur continues and doesn't really care that much about it and then the helmet kiss happens which is honestly one of the most events in entire lore.

She definitely made changes recently, especially while working with the Guardian. I think we made her more relaxed. The Parasite quest was SO good for this. Her confusion during Dawning when we give her cookies also makes more sense through this lense. Her mask almost slips, but also she can't control how much it means to her that we would do something like this for her (firmly cradling the cookies).

Oh I'm gonna be thinking about this interpretation of Mara for the rest of my life.

[zhanyes]

Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too

Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤

. . .

- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it

- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet

- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo

- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)

- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet

- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time

- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway

- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily

He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”

Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”

- There are times when homicide is the best option

Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”

He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”

Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”

He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”

Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”

- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is

- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things

Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”

He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”

Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”

- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)

- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart

- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping

- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand

- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands

- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together

- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.

- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things

Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”

He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”

Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”

He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”

Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”

- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window

- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout

- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means

- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi

- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner

- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead

- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone 

- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him

- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years

- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon

- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen

- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”

- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo

- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies

- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.

- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips 

- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian

Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”

Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”

Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”

Papa Mo: “Yes???”

Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”

Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”

Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”

- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not

- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??

- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing

Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”

Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”

Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”

Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”

Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”

Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”

Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”

Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”

Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”

Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”

- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days

- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask

- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that

- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye

- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks

- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”

- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail

Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”

He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”

Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

He tian: