thefingerfuckingfemalefury

[daincrediblegg]

Really funny that Tobias Menzies has gotten wifed up to both Hamish Linklater and Jared Harris in two different series. Like girl what are you living my dream life?

[fleckjayky]

[theidiotabides]

Would really love to hear about the angsty marcotobias fic if you're interested in sharing. 👀

Oh gosh, I feel like I'd have to actually write it for it to make sense because like 80% of it is subtext, but here's some rambling in that general direction.

I'm chiefly interested in the ways in which Marco & Tobias are actually incredibly similar -- their senses of humor, their attractions, their complete direspect for authority, and most importantly how they both lowkey hate themselves but insist on survival anyway, largely out of spite -- but how they treat their similarity as, like, a cautionary tale rather than the basis for a healthy connection that it could be.

Like, Tobias disappearing into the woods and giving up on everybody is exactly the kind of behavior that Marco finds incredibly triggering, having lived through it with his dad. Marco would never walk away from his remaining loved ones like that, especially in the post-war world where he's charged himself with being the public face of the Animorphs because somebody has to. But there is absolutely a part of him that wants to give up and disappear; ya boi is tired.

Meanwhile, I think Tobias sees Marco's devotion to Jake and refusal to abandon him even after how Rachel died (which Tobias blames Jake for) as a version of the hero worship complex Tobias used to have about Jake -- like, I think Tobias sees Marco as being too devoted to Jake to see "the truth" about him, and he pities that in Marco. But at the same time, Tobias envies Marco's close personal connections, and I think on some level he knows that the only way to get to that place would be to work through his anger at Jake to get to his anger at Rachel, and he just can't bring himself to do that. It's easier to stay mad.

And then there's the question of Rachel herself, whom they were both deeply invested in trying to keep alive at the end of the war. Like, we see this explicitly from Tobias, with his "just be Rachel" and constant emotional check-ins with her, but I don't think Marco gets enough credit for his active role in keeping her literally alive. Dude bodily removed her from battles, at risk to his own life, and I just refuse to believe that's not something Marco & Tobias talked about, given how much time they spent together in Ax's scoop during that period of time between Marco's fake death & the move to the valley. Rachel is both a mutual love and a mutual failure for them (and that level of mutual devotion to a third person gives my polyamorous ass A Lot of Feelings).

Basically I think there's a lot of respect and love between Tobias and Marco, but they can't get to it because it would require each of them to deal with Rachel-related guilt and confront parts of themselves that they don't want to acknowledge.

...so I want to get them high on Marco's fancy penthouse balcony and make them kiss about it

[tesnuzzik]

(Full drawing here)

So now that the Faerie Court skins are here (and of course these two didn't get in, who would've guessed lmao) there's finally some lore for that universe too, and I eh...was quite shocked to find out they actually mention Seelie/Unseelie in Karmas voice lines.

I went my own way with that drawing without any intentions for it to fit into the universe at all, fully expecting it to become something element based like with Tinkerbell. But nope. Out of all the times I drew faerie stuff for them THIS one turned out the most accurate, the one where I didn't even try to connect.

Because of that I felt like sharing some of the story I had in mind when drawing this. When we get the skin bios I might wanna try add to it according to the skin universe.

(Edit) I was already sort of planning for Unseelie TF to have these pale glowy irises+dark eyes....exactly what Katarina has, who seems to be a former Unseelie. Which added to my surprise;;;

[heirloommtomatoes]

andrew garfield chicken shop this...andrew garfield movie tour press that...did anyone see his blue sweater/glasses combo in we live in time

[sweet-beezus]

Take my hand one final time

Walk me to my ocean line

[mrs-weasley-reid]

DOCTORS ACROSS THE HALL

Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader

Synopsis: Sleep-deprived and traumatized, Spencer Reid attempts to pin the blame on his innocent new neighbor (he can't). Word Count: 2k+ Warning: meet cute-ish(?) fluff(?) i'm not sure anymore, lol. light mentions of death and trauma. a few curses. not proofread !!!! A/N: inspired by S2 x E14 & 15, we all know what i mean hehe

Spencer Reid's eyes are dry.

Each blink is a terrifying journey. Afraid that he'll go back in the past—in that hut—in between the millisecond of closing his eyes.

He's seeing nothing but blurry darkness, and yet he can still feel Tobias Hankel's shaky palms across the skin of his arm.

"It helps."

"Trust me."

The same four words ring in Spencer's ears, encouraging pain—paranoia.

"It helps."

"Trust me."

With every breath Spencer takes, they hitch in the middle of his throat. Forever stuck and dies there with no trace of hope for the next generation of traveling air.

Hope that he'll be able to breathe without tugging aches all over his chest is long gone.

No man would ever be the same had they been in the situation he went through. He can't help but feel weak. And it's eating Spencer alive to the point of deliberate insomnia.

He doesn't remember the last time he'd ever slept like a normal person.

"It helps."

Knock, knock.

"Trust me."

Knock, knock, knock.

Spencer opens his eyes. He's not sure when slumber took over his mind or if he even participated in sleep at all. Chances are he was too dissociated from reality that he's left his body frozen for a while. Nonetheless, in the little time he spent in serene blankness, only one emotion brews in him.

Anger.

Who in their right minds would go out knocking at—Spencer glances at the clock on his nightstand—2 AM?

Knock, knock, KNOCK—

It stops.

A creak echoes in the hall as muffled voices scratch Spencer's ears. He can't make out the words, only the wave of the softest and gentlest whispers he's ever heard.

On a different day, he may have let it go. Hell, a different him would have let it go.

The Spencer from one week ago would have let it go.

The Spencer who never felt so nauseous at the sight of his own blood along the canvas of his temple. The Spencer with an awkward grin without the baggage of Tobias Hankel's torture over his shoulders.

The Spencer he used to be.

But despite everyone's loving support. Despite the bragging rights he gained for surviving a serial killer. No one can loosen the throttling chokehold of trauma around his neck. Not even him.

Spencer catches himself clenching his fists too tight. Crescent indentations sting on his palm—nostalgic and unsettling. He only grits his jaw at the thought. And comes in the invigorating vibrations all over his chest.

There it is again.

The useless anger.

A loaded gun with no target.

The man is dead. Tobias Hankel is dead.

Spencer wonders about the use of his boiling anger when the person he loathes is already rotting in his grave.

Without any other outlet to unleash the colossal mass of suppressed rage brewing inside of him, Spencer makes good use of one of the most common defense mechanisms: displacement.

Maybe screaming at someone will deflate the tightness across his chest and clear his mind a bit in the form of self-loathing after he realizes the grave immaturity of his plan.

He lifts his body off his mattress, swinging his legs on the side of his bed as he methodically rubs his eyes against the lamp's brightness. Strands of his hair go array around the vertical circumference of his head like an electric halo.

A huff pulses off his lips. He swallows a lump of thick air as he weighs his next moves.

Part of Spencer died in that cemetery. What difference does it make if he screams at the world? If he screams at—

His brows furrow, eyes narrow, and ears perk.

It's different this time.

Irritating knocks. Opening door. Muffled whispering. Closing door. Then quiet for an hour.

That has been a constant for the past five days. A constant routine that he felt indifferent about but somehow grew annoyed by.

But it's different this time.

The door across the hall didn't close.

And it's been five minutes.

Before Spencer knows it, his hand turns the knob and swings the door open.

Two women across from him. They are in the middle of what seems to be a tight hug before one bids her goodbye and lightly runs down the stairs.

Spencer watches as the other disappears down the lower level. Anger morphs into confusion.

"Did we bother you?"

He jolts back, snapping his gaze to the woman across. "What?"

You smile apologetically, "I'm sorry about the noise—"

"Dr. Spencer Reid," He spits. Spencer's forehead creases. He wonders what prompted his mouth to openly provide his full name to a stranger, specifically when the information was not asked for.

"Oh," You blink, lightly jumping on your toes. An unseen glint sparks in your eyes. You introduce yourself as a response, a lot less threatening than he did but equally awkward. You smile again. Sweetly, this time. Like you're looking at a puppy.

Spencer's brows bounce over his forehead as the hand over his doorknob loosens. "You're a doctor?" He inquires.

You nod, "Mhm, what are the odds, right?" You chuckle. The sound echoes around the quiet hall.

"11.76%."

"What?"

"The odds—" Spencer scratches the back of his neck, "—it's 11.76%. There are fourteen tenants in this building, including you. We both found out we're doctors, and I know none of our neighbors are. Most of the neighbors are living alone besides the old couple on the first floor, but I know none of them are doctors. That's two in fifteen people. So 11.76%. But now I realize you weren't being literal about it..." Heat rushes against the skin of his face.

Silence hovers between the two of you. He feels more awake than he was minutes ago for an entirely different reason—embarrassment. Spencer wishes that some sort of earthquake would open up the floor and swallow him.

"Interesting," You finally speak, changing the leg where you placed your weight. "I tried calculating it myself and got the same result. You were right."

His mouth falls agape. A surge of warmth strikes his chest. "You were calculating?" Spencer squints, rubbing an eye out of habit due to his current predicament and baffled by your antic all the same.

You nod again, "Just cause you're my neighbor doesn't mean I'll just take your word for it, you know. But I have to admit, it was cool that you figured that out in a second. You have my respect." You flash a playful smile, hugging your chest at the sudden draft.

"Ahh," Spencer steps back into his apartment. The tinge of giddiness is quickly replaced by sleep deprivation and anxiety. A hand throws itself into the cavity of his eye socket, pushing it close to remove the pain that's settling in.

Flashes of bright light blind him in the dark shade of his eyelids. Frustration swiftly creeps over his shoulders. Like he's drowning above water, tied down, and has no air to gasp for. Panic begins to paralyze him. All seems lost, and darkness slowly—

"Would you like some tea?"

Spencer blinks, lifting his gaze back at you as your soft smile slowly adjusts his sight.

"I have a new brand of tea I've been dying to open. Would you like some?" You repeat, tilting your head a bit as you await a response. When you don't get one, you add, "I promise I don't bite." And your heart flutters at the little twitch at the ends of his lips.

He concludes you're roughly two weeks fresh from moving in. Here you are, inviting a stranger in the middle of the night to enjoy tea inside your home.

Seems reckless.

Idiotic.

But Spencer doesn't say no.

He walks towards you like he's leaving a world to explore another. Anxiety slowly dissipates with each step he takes. A contrast of what he feels each second that passes while he lies awake.

You step aside to give him way. "Grab a seat—" you gesture towards the kitchen -island-slash-dining-table, "—The girl you saw usually stays longer, so I already heat some water. Is chamomile okay?" You talk as you maneuver around your small kitchen.

Spencer finds a seat closest to the door. For all he knows, you're the serial killer on your end of the skeptical assumptions in his head.

"Nice apartment," He says out of the obligatory guest etiquette. Spencer takes in every bit of your reflection in your home.

It's inviting. Warm and cozy. The hint of oat and lavender whiffs past his nose. Your place is adorned with small, warm lights, brightening each corner with sunset tones.

Your chuckle brings his attention back to you. "Don't be shy, Dr. Reid," You glance at him over your shoulder. "It's messy. You can say it."

"If a couple of books on your table is messy to you, you should see my side of the building."

Spencer straightens up as confusion spreads over his face.

How do you do that?

Make him feel comfortable with words and a gentle voice. Everyone on his team has been doing the same exact thing, but somehow, you get something out of him without further prompting.

The image of your coffee table pops in his head. Cultural Psychology. Learning Psychotherapy. Trauma and Dreams. And a few more books that clocks his interest in you further down the rabbit hole.

"You're a psychologist," He announces into the air.

"Psychiatrist, actually," You place a mug in front of Spencer, finding a seat across from him. "But what gave it away? The tea or the messy apartment?" You ask into your mug that says 'you're purrfect' in pink lowercase and has a cat’s paw under the lettering. A playful smile is curving your lips.

Spencer accepts the blue mug, brows rising at the police box outlined image over the blue stain. He wouldn’t have expected you as a fan of Doctor Who, but who’s he to judge? A part of him wants to discuss common interests, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to change the subject.

"T-the books." He says hesitantly, uncertain whether the art of observation has marked him a creep right at that moment.

You hum, "Thought I would've been more mysterious than that." You chuckle, pulling a leg against your chest. "And you?" You inquire back.

"I have three PhDs," Spencer shares shyly, breaking eye contact masked as drinking your quite tasteful tea. He notes to ask the brand you're so enthusiastic about later on.

"Three?" Your eyes glisten under the warm light.

He nods.

"Let me guess, 190."

"190?"

"Your IQ," You lean back against the table, "My guess is you graduated young. Went to high school, college, and graduate school as a puppy." You add, amping with adoration over the new information.

"A puppy is a strong word, but yes," Spencer blushes now, hoping the small lighting leans in his favor to hide the red tint over every bit of his skin. “And just 187, not that big of a deal.”

"Just 187? You're just being humble, right?" You giggle, "I bet some prestigious agency hired you at a young age, and you're called the genius kid." You jest, genuinely interested in him more than ever.

More like the boy genius. But can’t possibly expose himself more than you already did out of sheer lucky guesses. Spencer avoids meeting your eyes like it's the plague. "You awfully guess a lot..."

You gasp, placing your mug on the table, "Shut up! I was close, was I? Oh my gosh!" You're laughing now, utterly comfortable to show quirks that people you just met shouldn't see yet. "I'm good at this. I think I'll be okay later, then." You say to yourself, nodding in satisfaction.

"For what?" Spencer chimes, troubles slipping away to the back of his mind and the sound of your hush laughter lulling him. It might be the tea or the possibility that you'd drugged him, but his body felt light for the first time in weeks. He doesn't have any complaints.

"I moved here for a job," You start attentively, making sure that you don't share too much. "But I have people. They'll search for me in case you turn out to be a serial killer."

His brows jump, "How do I know you're not the serial killer? Women can be one, too. And statistically, women who are serial killers are attractive."

"Are you saying I'm attractive, Dr. Reid?"

"I—" Spencer freezes, heat flowing to his ears. "I-I was making a point—" He cuts himself off. He wonders when the earthquake he's wished for earlier is coming to save him from embarrassment.

You stay silent, reveling in his stuttering voice.

"Is that coffee? I thought you made tea." He changes the subject—poorly.

You don't mind it one bit, indulging at the sight of his pinkish ears covered by his unruly hair. "I invited you for tea. I didn't say I'll drink one with you." You take a sip of the caffeine, rubbing the idea on his face.

Spencer responds with a subtle roll of his eyes that makes you chuckle more than intended. "Why coffee at three in the morning?" He asks gently, not wanting to step over any boundaries.

"I'm supposed to start my job later. I heard my patients need a lot of assistance, so I need to study and make sure I give them the right help."

"That sounds noble," He yawns, the first of many.

Spencer never thought your smile could get any sweeter, "I haven't officially met them yet. So, I really wish it goes well."

It might be the chamomile tea with a hint of honey finally working in his veins, but Spencer thinks you're beaming like an angel descending from the skies.

He yawns, and you giggle once more, "I think you should go to sleep, Dr. Reid."

“Yeah, yeah, I should,” Spencer’s eyebrows collide at the sadness in his chest. His body feels comfortable in his seat. Getting out of it feels like torture. 

You both stand from your seats, walking him towards the door. 

Spencer turns around before he closes his, a sleepy smile on his face. "Thanks for the tea," He yawns, a hand covering his mouth.

“You’re— hold on, give me one second,” You turn around and back inside your apartment. He can’t see you but can hear your light footsteps on the floorboards as you run to your coffee table and back inside the frame of your front door. 

Spencer patiently waits as you walk to his end of the hall, take his hand out, and hand him a heart lollipop. 

“Take this. They help with the bad craving,” You advertise as you walk backward. Before he completely shuts the door, you call for him, "Oh, and Dr. Reid."

Spencer swings the door open back wider, "Yes?"

"I think you're attractive too."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[devourable]

⚘ the boys next door

sfwish, mdni | tags ; poly!male yanderes x gn reader (no prns used but 'you'), manipulation, yan behavior, slight fetishization of virginity

originally this was just gonna be one character so thank mazzy for convincing me to make him a poly duo instead lmfao. ik i have things to finish but like,,, boys 🫶

not too proud of this one so ill probs revise it or make a part two at a l8r time when im feeling less rusty

the boys next door were the two that everyone knew of as a pair.

sebastian and tobias grew up together, learned together, played together, and shared absolutely everything practically since they were born. they were what people thought of when the words 'best friends' came to mind.

nothing could or would ever come between the two boys, everyone said.

so it was no shock that when you came in and quite literally got between them — by virtue of moving into the vacancies that separated their homes — their instant mutual attraction to you would do nothing but strengthen the bond between them.

it was odd. any additions to their relationship was unheard of, but...

the boys next door shared everything. you didn't think that'd exclude you, did you?

toby and sebastian were quick to befriend you when you entered their life. you were around their age, practically the only other child in the area at that; but unlike the children at school who they'd turn away from in favor of each other, they readily made you part of their dynamic.

they didn't quite understand the feelings you gave them at first, they were too young to. all they really knew is that they liked being around you, they liked talking about you, and they wanted you to themselves.

when you were young, everything became about you. their favorite games involved them being your loyal knights, or bodyguards, or any other role that involved protecting you from whatever threat their little minds could imagine up.

and when you grew tired of playing the damsel in distress? they were fine with it. whatever you wanted from them, you got. sebastian's gaming console was practically yours with how much he pushed you to play on it. toby would beg his parents to get him any toy he'd seen you show interest in; and he'd always eventually get them for you.

they didn't want you to ever be bored around them. you'd always have a good time on their watch, and they spoiled you relentlessly to the best of their abilities.

you were theirs, now! and you took care of what was yours, no matter what. that's what both of them were taught.

they grew up with you. learned with you. played with you, and of course, they shared you — even as the three of you grew up.

everyone around you saw how much they adored you, too. when asked, the two boys would proclaim how they'd both marry you in the future. it was so cute! no one saw an issue with how they always took up as much time and attention as they could from you. or how you never really seemed to be able to make friends with other kids at your school...

you had your best friends, so it didn't matter. they were all you needed.

the pair grew to love their constant close proximity to you. it ensured that they'd know what was going on in your life at all times as you grew and developed. when you weren't all hanging out together, it wouldn't be unusual for the pair to simply watch your home from their windows, glimpsing into your windows to watch you go about your life.

you were turning into a fine young adult. but you still needed their protection! they both easily surpassed you in size as you all grew up — sebastian in particular, who's height was staggering compared to both you and toby. he liked the edge it gave him, and how intimidating he could be when needed. tobias didn't have that advantage, but everyone liked him enough to respect you as his territory anyway. you were so small and sweet, what if someone saw you the way they did? they couldn't have that, they had no choice but to keep you to themselves.

it felt like you always had at least one of the two at your side at all times. so much so that it felt odd when you were without either of them. sebastian and toby being by your side was as natural as breathing and you grew to never really question their behavior.

they were just making sure you were okay when they insisted on keeping you company when you were home alone. when toby took your first kiss, it was because it only made sense — it should go to someone you trust and care about, right? and when you told the two that you were still a virgin well into adulthood (which they knew, of course), they insisted on being your first.

they knew you better than anyone, they'd know how to make you feel good. and who better to give your virginity to than your best friends?

getting to claim your body, inside and out, was one of the best moments of their lives. no one would ever get to have you the way they did.

no matter what you'd do, where you'd go, you'd always be effected by them in some way — and that's exactly how they wanted it. they'd always be your first best friends, your first boyfriends, your first everything. and you'd always be theirs.

the boys next door would always be entangled in your life. but you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

they know you better than anyone, after all.

[faerieconsort]

,, 

[pathologicalreid]

Comforting spencer 🙏🙏 Maybe after the Tobias thing or something, sorry if this is too vague 😭

your needs, my needs | S.R.

who? spencer reid x gn!reader category: angst; hurt/comfort content warnings: takes place following 3x12 "3rd life", spoilers for 2x15 "revelations", drug addiction, mentions NA and narcan word count: 1.74k a/n: hey anon! this is kind of too vague BUT i've had this idea marinating in my brain for so long and i just needed to find a place for it in the timeline! i hope this works for you! thank you for requesting!

Halfway down his arm, in the crook of his elbow, your boyfriend had a scar.

It was left by someone who was now dead and had been for months. The pink, new skin would eventually fade, but you’d always see it there.

The memory of Tobias Hankel would always haunt your relationship, but the two of you would manage to create new memories in the wake of everything that he had almost destroyed.

Hanging up your keys next to the front door, you note the silence of the apartment, there was no radio playing, no turning of book pages, and yet, you glanced over at the couch, seeing Spencer’s signature mismatched socks hanging over the edge of the couch.

Quietly, you set your bag down before you made your way over to the couch expecting to find Spencer asleep, but you’re surprised when deep brown eyes look back at you. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, a book tucked in the crook of his arm like he had given up on reading for the evening. “Hi, love,” you whispered, making your way around the back of the couch and squatting next to him, studying his expression intently. “How was work?”

He closed his eyes as you reached out and smoothed his hair back, “Hi,” he responded. His voice was raspy like it had been a while since he used it. You had woken up in an empty bed this morning, so the BAU must’ve arrived home from Chula Vista at some point while you were at work.

Spencer didn’t offer any other conversation. He didn’t tell you how work was. He didn’t ask you how work was. Sadly, you pressed your lips together in a thin, white line and tilted your head to the side, “What happened?”

“I’m tired,” he answered, averting his eyes from yours as he deflected. The avoidance was telling enough, you knew what was going through his mind. “I need to take a shower,” he admitted, his voice softening with use.

You raised your eyebrows curiously at him, despite the fact that he wouldn’t look at you, “Did you want me to leave you be for a while?” You asked, letting him know that you could keep your distance, but you wouldn’t leave him alone – not when he was like this.

His lips parted as he prepared to answer, “I don’t want to go into the bathroom,” he admitted meekly.

A deep understanding filled your chest. The bathroom was where you first figured out his addiction. The bathroom was where you now kept Narcan in the medicine cabinet. “Did you want me to go in with you?” You asked him a new question, hoping you could somehow gently guide him to an answer.

“I just don’t want to go in,” he said, voice raising in frustration before he checked himself, “I don’t want to be in a bathroom.”

You steeled your expression, not wanting him to know that you caught on the way he said a bathroom instead of the bathroom that time. “Alright,” you told him, pushing up on your knees so that you could stand and head into your shared bathroom. Going into the shower, you reached in and grabbed Spencer’s shampoo and conditioner, pulling a towel from the linen closet before you walked back out, passing him on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen.

Setting everything down on the counter you went back to the bedroom, closing the door to the ensuite before calling Spencer over. You heard heavy footsteps approach the bedroom before your boyfriend showed up in the doorway, “What is it?”

“Change into more comfortable clothes, then I can wash your hair in the kitchen sink,” you told him insistently, taking up a tone that told him you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Reaching into his side of the dresser, you pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants while he stripped himself of his work clothes. Making sure he was moving, you followed suit, pulling off your work pants before resorting to sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

He grumbled as you herded him into the kitchen, sock-covered feet shuffling on the tile floor. Despite giving you a look when you instructed him to lie down on the counter, Spencer did so without much of a challenge. As you flipped on the tap, he settled on the laminate surface, “What are you doing?” He asked, frowning at you as you gently took his glasses off and placed the thick, black frames on the opposite side of the basin.

You hummed, taking the towel and tucking it underneath Spencer’s neck so the edge of the counter didn’t hurt him, “I don’t want to get soap and water all over your glasses.”

With furrowed brows, he looked up at you, “I won’t be able to see without my glasses,” he informed you.

“Then you’ll have to use that memory of yours to remember just how good-looking I am,” you responded earnestly, refraining from victoriously throwing your hands in the air when a small smile bloomed on his face.

Sighing, he relaxed against the hard surface of the counter. Too tall to fully lay down, he kept his legs folded up at the edge. It looked awkward, but if he was comfortable, who were you to judge?

Checking the temperature of the water with your hand, you took the sprayer in your hand and quickly sprayed a bit of water on Spencer’s hair, “Is that too hot?” You asked softly, watching his face for any kind of reaction.

Spencer quickly shook his head at you, “No, that’s good.” His answer prompted you to continue wetting his hair, using the sprayer before setting it down and taking his shampoo in your hands.

Lathering a dollop in between your palms, you slowly started to work it into his hair, he closed his eyes as you massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp as you did so. You smiled softly at the way he visibly relaxed, watching the way peace overtook him as a result of the simple service of having his hair washed.

Using your hand to protect his face from soap and water, you took the handheld sprayer back in your hand and rinsed the shampoo from his hair, the suds slipping from the locks in a waterfall. Taking a moment, you elected for another round of shampoo, squirting the same amount in your palm before repeating the process.

In your periphery, you noticed Spencer fiddling with something in his hand, a flash of gold caused your heart to clench while he flipped the coin through his fingers. His six-month NA chip.

Deciding against mentioning it, you continued working your fingers through his hair, the second round of shampoo foaming up even more than the first had, leading you to rinse your hands off before going back for the sprayer. Using your hand, you made sure to get all of the remaining shampoo from his hair before gently wringing his hair dry.

Putting a small amount of conditioner on your fingers, you deftly worked the product through the ends of Spencer’s hair, “Your hair’s getting long,” you observed aloud. “Did you want to cut it or keep growing it out?”

Not opening his eyes, Spencer responded, “Not sure yet,” he mumbled, clearly still enjoying your ministrations on his hair.

Finger-combing the conditioner through his hair, you nodded to yourself, “If you want to cut it, just let me know and I can help.”

In response, he nodded slightly while you tried to work through a small knot in his hair, “I thought I could stop him.”

Your movements faltered at the sudden change in subject, but you quickly regained your footing and continued, “You can’t save everyone.”

“I hate that,” he told you. Spencer had a lot of anger, it was never directed at you, it was directed toward the world, but that didn’t mean you liked it.

Letting the conditioner sit in his hair, you rinsed the product off of your hands before turning the tap off. “Do you need to go to a meeting?” You asked him gently, reaching over to seal the caps to the shampoo and conditioner before glancing at your boyfriend.

Mentally, you recalled where you had set your keys and bag when you got home, just in case you needed to take him away, “I’ll go tomorrow,” he answered.

His usual NA group met on Wednesdays, so it made sense that he’d want to go to that group. It didn’t mean you wouldn’t keep an eye on him tonight. “Okay,” you murmured softly, flipping the tap back on before you proceeded to rinse the conditioner from his hair, using your fingers to get all of the product from his silky brown strands.

Adjusting the temperature slightly, you focused your energy on getting the product out, settling into a comfortable silence until you felt satisfied, shutting off the water and wringing the water out as best you could with your hands.

You carefully coaxed the towel from where it rested beneath his neck, getting him to sit up while you towel-dried his hair. Pulling the cotton off of his head, you left his damp hair sticking every which way as you reached over to return his glasses to him, “Do you feel any better?” You asked, refraining from reaching up and touching him, you put your hands behind your back.

He nodded softly, settling his glasses on his face and blinking as his eyes focused. Spencer surprised you when he reached out for you, sitting up and leaving his legs dangling off of the edge of the counter, he parted his knees and pulled you so that your body was flush with the counter, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I love you,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck.

Burying your face in his shoulder, you breathed in the all-too-familiar scent of his shampoo and conditioner and leaned into his embrace, “I love you too, Spence.” Tears pricked your eyes, and you pulled away from him before any could trickle down your cheeks. “Come sit down on the couch, I’ll brush your hair out.”

A small, content smile grew on his face, nodding at you before he pushed himself off of the counter, following your footsteps back into the living room.

[warping-realities]

Familly Group Chat

Written version of my last video. At some point I'll make one of the first one too! Hope you like it!

Michael was one of the many “middle kids” of John and Louise Bennet; in fact, he was the 4th of 7, just a few minutes younger than his twin brother, Tobias, with whom he shared that typical inscrutable and unexplainable bond that only twins have. Even though the relationship among all seven Bennet boys was super strong, having been raised under the strict rules of the holy Catholic Church by their parents, they were all scattered across the country, so the only way to keep in touch was through the family group chat on an app. That morning, the 23-year-old blonde man, skinny but toned from constant running, had just finished taking a hot shower and putting on his favorite pair of skinny black jeans, which his modern startup job not only accept but even endorsed as part of the dress code. He was about to start brushing his teeth when a new message notification popped up on his phone.

“Message from Tobias, here we go…” he muttered to himself, knowing his twin would only send a message at that hour if it was to roast someone. And sure enough!

“Hey bro, did you see the good morning message Mom posted in the family group?”

“Not yet, man.”

“Well, brace yourself! I have no idea where she finds this stuff!”

As he opened the family group while heading to the kitchen to make his usual black coffee, Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at the cheesiness of the good morning image Mom had sent.

“Dude, do all moms have a group to share this crap?” he typed to his brother in the private chat.

“Has to be! But you better reply, you know how she gets… soon she’ll be whining about how she raised seven ungrateful kids or some nonsense,” Tobias replied. Thinking about that, Michael rushed to respond to their mom. Louise was really kinda needy now that only the youngest still lived with her. However, when he opened the family group, he couldn't help but laugh out loud at the reply Tobias had sent—an even tackier image than the one their mom sent.

“Dude, you’re the worst! Where the hell did you find that image to reply to her?” he shot back to his brother.

“Well, maybe I’m in the mom’s group!” He replied before sending something completely different. “Hey, what’s going on? Someone saved as Dad 0.2 just join the group. What the hell is this?”

Hurrying to check that message, Michael quickly opened the family group and was shocked to see an unknown person had joined, which shouldn’t be possible without an access link or an invite from one of the group admins, their parents. The private convo that followed between the brothers was frantic and freaked out.

“Dad 0.2 removed Mom from the group… what’s going on?”

“I don’t know… how does someone just waltz into a private group and kick someone out???”

“Dad 0.2 changed the group name from Bennet Family to Bradley Boys! What the hell is this?”

“He’s sending a video, what’s happening???”

“I don’t know, bro, let’s just open it and see.”

The video showed a dude in his forties, but he looked really good for his age, easily passing for someone younger if it weren't for the crow's feet around his eyes that showed he was used to smiling, and his extremely muscular physique screamed years of hardcore workouts. With light brown hair and a well-groomed beard, he was rocking just a pair of sweats that showcased his powerful muscles in a spacious but Spartan room, with minimal furniture or decor.

“Alright, guys, it’s time to send our good morning videos! Who’s next? How about you, Jeff? I’m dying to rest my head on those muscle pillows of yours, babe!” the stranger said, flexing his arms.

“WTF?? You seeing what I’m seeing, Tobias? And who the hell is Jeff?” Michael quickly texted back to his brother.

“I have no clue, man, this is so weird… wait a sec… Dad 0.1 just sent a video, what the hell is this?”

“I think we better check it out…” Michael shot back before opening the video from the contact that also showed up for him as Dad 0.1.

“I’m dying to see you too, Buck! Counting the seconds until you’re back, babe. The bed feels empty without you here! Who’s next? How about our firstborn? It’s on you, Wyatt!” That was impossible; the face on the screen was undeniably their dad, but he had gained a solid 50 pounds of muscle and lost a good amount of fat. Not to mention the carpet of hair that now covered his formerly smooth chest.

“Is that really Dad? No way… how?” Tobias sent back.

“I don’t know, man! This is so bizarre… how did he bulk up so much… it doesn’t make sense… and who the hell is Wyatt?”

“He mentioned firstborn… but no… that can’t be…” Tobias typed before they both received another notification. Upon opening the video, they were in for another surprise.

“Hey there, bros! Ready for a new day? I’m already warming up waiting for my workout buddy—where you at, Maverick, little bro?” said the muscular dude, barely in his thirties, dressed all in black and flexing in a gym locker room.

“Dude… that’s Will!!! But he’s never set foot in a gym,” Michael texted Tobias. William, the oldest of the bunch, was about to turn thirty, and he had the chubby physique of an accountant used to long hours behind a desk, drinking coffee and munching on donuts—that was literally his life… or should be. But if there was anything that video showed, it was that Wyatt had never put a single sweet in his mouth.

“I don’t even know what to say… but there’s more coming!” Tobias replied, apparently just as stunned. As the new video arrived, they rushed to look.

“Ha! I’ve already left you in the dust, Wyatt! Looks like the baby bro is now the big bro! Don’t take too long, or I’ll be late for school, and my coach is gonna flip, right, Griff?”

“Dude, that’s Martin on steroids! That kid looks like he’s tripled in size! Is this some kind of prank? Some deep fake?” he asked in shock. Martin, the youngest, was already a more athletic kid, being on the wrestling team, but with that size, he’d be better suited for the offensive line on a football team, if he wasn’t already too big for that, and who the hell was this coach he was talking about?

“Michael, I’m just as lost as you. But it looks like this isn’t stopping…” Tobias commented as another video popped up in the group.

“You’re gonna have to do a ton of push-ups for not calling me Coach Bradley, kid! No Griff or Griffin while I’m your trainer! And if you’re late for school, it’ll be suicide day! Speaking of late, where the hell are you, Chase? Bet you left Hunter hanging at the beach.”

“Tobias, that’s Gordon! How the hell is he a coach? He’s a math teacher!” Michael texted in disbelief, seeing their second oldest brother looking way older than he should, with thinning hair as if he had been overdoing the steroids, which seemed totally possible, he thought, seeing the massive bodybuilder rocking just boxer briefs and a tight tank top, flexing his powerful muscles in some dimly lit room.

“Tobias? Tobias? Damn… there’s more coming!” Michael texted anxiously as he opened the next video.

“Ha, you know me too well, bro, but The Chaser is on the scene, Hunt’s got to face me!” That was Carl, but just like the other family members, he had gone through a transformation that left him almost unrecognizable. He had turned into a mountain of muscles covered by a thin layer of bronzed skin, clad only in a tiny yellow short, shades, and a backwards cap. Sitting in a car, flexing his muscles and grinning. Michael didn’t even have time to send a new outraged message to Tobias when another video came in.

“Too bad I’m already way ahead in my workout, little bro! You sure you want to take me on? Hehehe. Speaking of challenges, which twin’s gonna fire the next shot? Trey or Micah?” said the bronzed, muscular dude sporting Hugh’s modified look, the brother just below the twins in age. Watching this, Michael’s shock wore off, and he resumed chatting with his twin.

“What the hell is going on??? What are they doing at the beach? They should be in college!” But the reply didn’t come. Worried, he called out for his brother.

“Tobias? Tobias?”

“Who the fuck is Tobias, bro? I’m already sending my video, Micah! Big T is once again taking the lead! At least The Grand Finale is all yours!” was the twin response.

“Tobias, you guys must be messing with me!” Michael sent before opening the family group, where his brother had just sent another video.

“Trey here, leaving the little twin eating dust as always. And like always, I can’t tell what’s more badass, the view from my window or the sight the girls get when they check out my bod! What do you say, Micah, who’s used to seeing pretty much the same thing when you look in the mirror?” said the guy who in no way could be his twin brother, while grinning and showing off his muscular physique in front of his sunny apartment window. Totally lost, Michael sent a message to him.

“Tobias… Trey… I’m not doing any of this, this is insane!” he sent without realizing that autocorrect had changed his brother’s name.

“Dude, we’ve been doing this for years! It’s a Bradley tradition, what’s the problem now? You know how our das freak if we don’t join in. One of them is gonna call you if you don’t send it soon!” he replied. And Michael didn’t even have time to formulate a response to that new absurdity.

“Crap, video call from Dad 0.1,” he muttered to himself, refusing to pick up. But it seemed his phone had a mind of its own because the altered version of his dad popped up on his screen without permission.

“Micah, your dad is far away and wants a video from his boys. Trey just told me you don’t want to do it. What’s the harm in sending it? All your brothers already have, don’t be a buzzkill,” said the man with a serious and slightly disappointed expression.

“Dad, I… what the hell?” Michael started to respond, only to be cut off by the sudden entrance of a third person in the call. How was this possible? How was all this even real???

“Chill out, Jeff! I think Micah’s scared of looking like a weakling in front of his brothers.” It was the guy from the other video, grinning and crossing his arms while looking at Michael with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What??? I… no… weakling!” For some reason, that challenge sparked something inside him, a primal urge to show what he was capable of, and even more, to show that man what he could do. He wanted… no, he needed to prove himself to that man. Show one of the most important people in his life that he wasn’t some weakling!

“You’re gonna see who the weakling is, Dad!” Micah shot back with a grin before sending his own video.

“Last of the Bradley boys here, you bunch of exhibitionists!” he said, shyly smiling. Unlike his brothers he didn't like to show off his physique without a greater purpose, he kept hitting the gym for the joy it always brought him, mainly because it was something that connected all the brothers and their two dads. The boys didn’t know who was whose dad, and to them that didn’t matter one bit. The Bradley boys were a united front; even though each had their own place, they all worked together at the gym their fathers had founded many years ago, even those who had other jobs like Griff or were still finishing school like Maverick. Even when it came time for college, they preferred to stick around instead of crossing the country, which was why Hunter and Chase still lived with their fathers. Their upbringing had been liberal, but there were still well-established boundaries of respect. Even though a much greater degree of freedom was present now that they were all adults, provocative acts had become more common, with the guys and their parents occasionally sending more explicit videos. In fact, the bond among them was so strong that whenever one of them was away for some reason, it had become family tradition to send those good morning videos.

“We’re looking forward to your return, Dad!” he said in the group, joined by his brothers and other father. They were answered by Buck, affectionately known by all as Dad 0.2.

“I’ll be back this weekend, boys, and I want the whole family together! But until then, at least we’ll have our little moments every morning. To wrap it up, here’s one last video from me for you to think of me as much as I think of you!” he said, winking and provocatively massaging his pecs.

“Come on, Dad! We don’t need this at this time of the morning,” was the response from his sons, even though they were all exactly the same kind of man as Buck Bradley.

[ficandkaboodle]

Y’think another reason why they’re taking a break is because Tobias is like “Oh shit oh fuck I used up the best colors what the fuck is this next fucker going to wear without looking like a dickwad” and the people who do the costuming are waiting in the wings for this guy to make up his mind on whether or not he can make goldenrod yellow work for two or four years?

[sideprince]

Eileen Prince

I'm relentlessly curious about how a witch from Slytherin, a house that values cunning and ambition on paper, and bloodlines/nobility in its culture, ended up living in a muggle slum.

Unfortunately for me, she's a barely mentioned character written by an author who consistently fails to portray female characters with depth or dimension. The women in Harry Potter are portrayed as either maternal or villains, or, in Ginny Weasley's case, as redeemed by their masculine traits (because Rowling's Thatcher era feminism dictates that equality for women = emulating patriarchal ideas of manhood). About as much as you can expect from an author who's as unable to acknowledge the personhood of trans women as she is to write women as actual people. This leaves a lot of room for interpreting or delving into what Eileen Prince's life may have looked like, and how that would have affected her son's development.

There are three direct mentions of Eileen in the text :

“The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was not pretty; she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Underneath the photograph was the caption: Eileen Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.”

HBP Ch. 25

“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she’d given birth to a" “ — murderer,” spat Harry.

HBP ch. 30

“Harry looked around: he was on platform nine and three-quarters, and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him.”

DH Ch. 33

(Shoutout to Harry James Potter, who didn't recognize Eileen's fifth year photo despite her resemblance to Snape, the teacher whose classroom he got his used Potions book from. Shoutout also to Harry James Potter who didn't connect the dots between the Prince's handwriting and Snape's, a teacher who regularly wrote instructions on the board. "I needed to make the plot work, ok?" - JK Rowling, probably.)

Other relevant excerpts:

“Snape staggered - his wand flew upwards, away from Harry - and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner ”

OoTP Ch. 26

“Harry delved into his trunk and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed. There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of the book, the date that it had been published. It was nearly fifty years old.”

HBP Ch. 16

Supplemental material re: Gobstones from JK Rowling:

"...it remains a minority sport within the wizarding world, and does not enjoy a very ‘cool’ reputation, something its devotees tend to resent. Gobstones is most popular among very young wizards and witches, but they generally ‘grow out’ of the game, becoming more interested in Quidditch as they grow older.  ... Gobstones enjoys limited popularity at Hogwarts, ranking low among recreational activities, way behind Quidditch and even Wizarding Chess." [There's an additional sentence on the Harry Potter wiki's Gobstones page: "...it is also known as 'the thinking wizard's Quidditch.'"]

A few conclusions can be drawn from what little information we're given about Eileen:

She's described as "cross and sullen" around the age of 15, and as "sallow-faced, sour-looking" when she's older.

She's captain of the Gobstones club around her fifth year, so she likely marched to the beat of her own drum - given that Gobstones isn't particularly popular - and owns it proudly enough to take, or even seek out, a leadership role.

The sport is described as "the thinking wizard's Quidditch" which would imply Eileen was more interested in intellectual challenges and was clever (and can be paralleled with a young Severus' comment about "if you'd rather be brawny than brainy" to James Potter when they first meet on the Hogwarts Express).

Her marriage and the birth of her son are both announced in the paper, which might mean the family she came from was of some importance or note, or perhaps something else... but we'll get to that.

If we assume that Severus' secondhand copy of Advanced Potion Making was originally Eileen's (reasonable, though there is no textual evidence) then its publication date is likely around the time she was a sixth year, given that this particular text was specific to students beginning to prep for N.E.W.T. exams. Harry begins his sixth year in 1996 when the book is "nearly fifty years old," so we can assume Eileen was 16 years old sometime not long after 1946. Severus was born in 1960, which would mean Eileen was in her mid-late 20s at the time.

Her marriage was dysfunctional at best, abusive at worst. As per a Pottermore post that is still up on WizardingWorld.com: "...the desperately lonely and unhappy childhood [Severus] had with a harsh father who didn’t hold back when it came to the whip." Based on this, we can assume Tobias was abusive, and given Eileen's cowering as he shouted at her, she presumably feared him.

From these bits of information emerges the image of a woman who either had a surly personality, or at the very least was guarded, though perhaps just formal. There isn't really any difference in how her face is set when she's in an everyday setting like King's Cross, or when she's having her picture taken for the Gobstones Club. It's possible she was a stern, unsmiling person, but it's also possible - given that her wedding and child were announced in the paper - that she came from a family of some standing and was raised to conduct herself with hallmarks of British class, such as dignity and unaffectedness. After all, there are several wizarding families - such as the Potters - who are wealthy purebloods with social standing but are not part of the Sacred 28. Additionally, the Gobstones Club portrait would have been taken around the mid-1940s, when portraits were formal and their subjects did not often smile, and given that we see only a snippet of Eileen, we don't have enough information that she was unhappy or sour. It's also important to remember that we see her portrait and Snape's memory of her through Harry's perspective and, like his perception of Snape himself, this may convey Harry's biases.

We also know from the text that Snape had a house in a deserted part of Cokeworth, a fictional Midlands town that presumably had a collapsed milling industry, at the end of a street called Spinner's End. There's a great thread that goes into details about the kind of 2 up 2 down house it would have been, and we can assume that this is Snape's family home given that we know he and Lily grew up in Cokeworth. For all intents and purposes, the conclusion we can draw from this being the Snape family's home in the 60s is that they were working class and cripplingly poor. Most estates like this had been cleared by the 60s, and no longer exist today.

This begs the question: how did a witch from a possibly well-off family end up in an abusive marriage in an irrelevant slum?

Buckle up kids, we're leaving the world of textual references and veering into deep meta territory now. I won't label any of this as head canon because I'm not set on these interpretations, and am just drawing conclusions from the text, but some of it may be a bit loose even for meta.

If Eileen was 16 years old not long after 1946, then she would have finished school in the late 40s, possibly even 1950. While some people (including past me) posit the theory that Tobias may have been injured in WWII and his injuries debilitated him, forcing him to go on the dole and affecting his mental health, I'm increasingly skeptical of this theory. It would make more sense if Eileen had known him before he was drafted/enlisted and had committed to a relationship with him, which would then have changed when he came back from the war and was altered. If we assume Eileen's age based on the idea that it was her own copy of Advanced Potion Making Severus used, then she would still have been at school during WWII (which makes an interesting parallel with Severus' own experience of spending the bulk of the first wizarding war against Voldemort as a student at school).

I do think, however, that there's merit in the theory that Tobias suffered some kind of altering injury and that he wasn't necessarily abusive before Eileen committed herself to him. It makes little sense for a Slytherin graduate who was confident and self-posessed enough to be the face of an unpopular club to be drawn to a partner so abusive his shouts caused her to cower and who whipped his child freely. If, however, he was a charming, happy man when they met who suffered a life-altering injury, the trauma of which left him a shell of his former self, then someone like Eileen might stick around for the sake of the parts of his old self she can still see in him.

It's interesting that she didn't seem to use her magic to protect herself or her son, or even to dress her son in clothing that fit, but we know from the text that depression can cause a wizard's powers to wane:

“...it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen”

HBP Ch. 13 (Dumbledore talking about Merope Gaunt)

The fact that the Snapes retained the house in Spinner's End seems to indicate that they continued to live there even when the local industry dried up and the slum was cleared as workers were moved to other parts of the country where they were needed (presumably what happened given *gestures at British history*). The most likely explanation for this would be that Tobias wasn't able to work, and perhaps did suffer an injury, only it was at work, and not during the war. This would mean the family lived on the dole (ie. welfare) and also that he would have spent a lot more time at home. It would also explain his anger and frustration that led to abusive behavior (which isn't to say that disabled people are abusive by any means, but it would have been emasculating for a man who considered himself the breadwinner in the 60s, and chronic pain coupled with limited abilities would give anyone a short fuse).

Moreover, this living situation seems to indicate that there is no additional support coming from anywhere. Where is Eileen's family? Why were they not helping? There's no indication in the text that there is any connection with them at all. We can infer from Snape's memories that, as a child, he learned what he knew about the magical world from his mother. This implies that she talked to him about it a fair amount, and his conviction that he and Lily were going to Hogwarts well before they got their letters also implies that Eileen expected him to go there and was set on her son having a magical education, despite how little she seemed to use her own powers.

Severus knows a lot about the wizarding world as a child, including that prisoners are sent to Azkaban and that it's guarded by Dementors, Hogwarts' house structure and what to expect when he and Lily get there, and about the Statute of Secrecy and the laws around it. When Lily asks him if it makes a difference being Muggleborn, Severus hesitates before replying no, presumably because he's aware of pureblood bias being a part of wizarding culture.

Perhaps that's the reason Eileen's family doesn't seem to be in the picture. My own theory is that Eileen hadn't planned to commit herself to Tobias long-term, and Severus was an accidental outcome of an innocent tryst in which a young Eileen, an educated witch from a well to do pureblood family, was having fun slumming it with a working class muggle and ended up pregnant. While we don't know the wizarding world's attitude around pregnancy and abortion, we do know it's a conservative and classist society that parallels muggle British culture fairly closely, and that the late 50s/early 60s were a time when an out of wedlock baby would have been considered a disgrace.

Add to that the anti-muggle bias of a pureblood family and it sounds like Eileen was disowned her for her mistake (and don't @ me, but even though I know that not all Slytherins are purebloods, it does seem to be a persistent cultural value of the house reaching back to Salazar Slytherin himself, so Eileen's being sorted into it can reasonably be taken as an indication of her blood status). Perhaps the marriage and birth announcements in the Daily Prophet were put in by Eileen herself, if she was a woman from a family where this was customary. It may have been her way of letting her family know of the events, or even of asserting herself and even deliberately defying them, announcing to the whole wizarding world that a Prince married and had a child with a muggle. It makes sense that the girl who wasn't just in the Gobstones club, but became captain, would also say to herself, why shouldn't I have my marriage announced in the paper like everyone else in the family?

It's worth noting that mid-late 20s is pretty young to have a baby in the wizarding world, where the life expectancy and child bearing years are much longer than they are for a muggle. According to the Harry Potter wiki:

"Wizard life expectancy in Britain reached an average 137¾ years in the mid-1990s, according to the Ministry of Divine Health ... Wizards in general have a much longer life expectancy than Muggles, usually living two or three times as long as their non magical counterparts, some living even longer than that depending on circumstances. In addition, seeing as James Potter's parents had him "late in life,” witches likely have significantly longer childbearing years than Muggle women."

Although we see several characters in Severus' generation getting married and having kids not long after leaving school, there's a mention in the text that a lot of people were doing this during Voldemort's reign, as the fear he inspired made people more eager to get a move on with life since they thought they might die any day (I think Mrs. Weasley says this but I can't find the quote, @ me if you do). It's clear this wasn't the norm in the wizarding world. Eileen was a Slytherin, a house that values cunning, ambition, and strong wizarding heritage. Something must have gone very wrong in Eileen's life for her to end up having a child so young and living in a muggle slum.

And so it's possible Eileen Prince found herself pregnant and alone, having been disowned by her family to save face in light of her disgrace, and dependent on the only person she was still close to, the father of her child. It's the kind of storyline that Rowling would write, and it would parallel fairly closely the story of Voldemort's mother, thus adding another to the long list of similarities between Voldemort and Snape.

Lorrie Kim makes an interesting point when she talks about how Snape has a strong reaction to other people having a love life or romantic experiences (the context being Rowling's intention of his love for Lily being romantic and unrequited), but doesn't react particularly strongly to mothers sacrificing themselves for their children, whereas Voldemort does. Her insight, and I think it's a reasonable one, is that Severus accepts the idea of mothers making sacrifices for their children, whether it's Lily giving her life for Harry or Narcissa risking all she did to ask for his help in protecting Draco, because his own mother protected him from his father as much as she could.

There's a lot of room for interpretation on what Eileen's relationship with her son looked like, and what it says about her own state. She may have prioritized not angering Tobias to protect Severus, who as a child might have perceived her actions as a form of rejection. At the same time, she seems to have prepared him thoroughly for life in the magical world, perhaps in the hope that he would find his place in it and escape home. Perhaps she missed it and told him so much about it so she could live through her own memories.

The only time we see her argue with Tobias, in Severus' memory, she's cowering as he shouts. We know from JK Rowling that Tobias used corporal punishment liberally, which implies Eileen didn't stop him despite her magical abilities. We also see in the text, however, that while at school Severus stood up for himself against bullies and fought back, and that he was an exceptionally clever and powerful wizard. As an adult he was brave enough to face Dumbledore when he betrayed Voldemort, and later fought against Voldemort right under his nose (or lack thereof). So it stands to reason that at some point Severus began to stand up against Tobias too.

How much of that was Eileen's influence, or the result of Severus seeing her acceptance of her fate and rejecting it for himself, is hard to say. As for what happened to Tobias and Eileen that their house was Severus' by the mid-90s and they were nowhere in sight, I don't think there's enough information in the text to infer.

[her-satanic-wiles]

I'ma need some of you to take several seats. Some of your "hot takes" aren't even spicy. They're just dumb as hell.

Of all the points I've seen over the last week or so that's got my goat, let me remind you real quick:

No one is glorifying darker themes IRL just because they write about them.

Just because a person doesn't write about using a condom in their smut doesn't mean they're promoting unsafe sex. Touch some grass, enter the real world.

Not every person in the world is thin. Your asses get everything. If someone draws the Papas chubby or dare I say fat, shut up and put up. Scroll past it if you prefer.

On that note, hairy men exist, and I beg you to get off the Hub because it's melting whatever braincells you have left. Dolphin smooth isn't natural for some people.

If someone decides to draw the Papas with hair despite the fact that they're canonically bald in their older years - there's nothing wrong with that. You do realise men get receding hairlines, right? That some men choose to shave off the hair they once had because of it, right? Your intolerance is showing. Pipe down.

If Copia sings He Is, fun fact, Tobias wrote that. Therefore, he can sing whatever fucking song he likes. Get over it.

If you're over the age of 18 and are not mature enough to be in 18+, gtfo.

And on that vein, if you got something to say, then say it with your whole chest. @ a bitch next time. "I don't like confrontation." Then don't say shit. Fuck around and find out.

And no, I haven't @ anyone here because there's been so many of you being fucking weird I don't remember who said what. But if the shoe fits and you feel affronted, you know what you've done. My DMs are open. By all means, come and discuss shit with me.

[iwillbringyouruin]

Visions Magazine with Tobias Forge on the idea behind Rite Here Rite Now, the importance of soundtracks in general and how he distinguishes between himself and his characters (Visions Magazine issue nr. 377, 08/2024)

Full translation of the included interview by me below the cut - buckle up, this is a long post! There are no spoilers for RHRN in this.

Markus Hockenbrink: Tobias, have you ever watched the movie Metallica: Though The Never?

Tobias Forge: Yes, once, when it had just come out. The topic Metallica came up when we were taking care of the funding for [RHRN]. Every larger production company – and I have to emphasise here that this was before Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour and her extremely successful movie about it – voiced a lot of concern back then whether anybody would still be interested in concert movies. I had to explain time and again that my movie wouldn’t be a typical concert movie, to which I was asked several times: “Oh, so something like Through The Never?” I had to deny that again. We tell a story in our movie most of our fans are already familiar with. So it’s not an entirely new concept, which is already the first distinction from Through The Never. If you only consider that there is a concert part and a feature film part, then those two movies are probably similar. But that also applies to La La Land.

M. Hockenbrink: You describe your movie as a combination of Kiss’ Alive II, Ralph Bakshi cartoons and silent film horror. Is that a kind of childhood dream that comes true there?

T. Forge: Definitely. For as long as I’ve been interested in music, I’ve also been interested in film and television. Working in film could have also been a career option for me, but I always got the rather annoying impression that one would have to go to film school to really find a place in that field. School was never my strong suit, I see myself more as a autodidact in that regard. That I had the opportunity to work on/contribute to my own movie as a sorcerer’s apprentice of sorts is a real privilege. That is a dream come true but it is also something I can picture more of in the future. Next time maybe without the band.

M. Hockenbrink: Can you remember a specific moment in your life when you realised that you were especially drawn to topics that are slightly morbid and unsettling?

T. Forge: I think that due to my family I came in contact with vastly different kinds of pop culture from a very young age. In more traditional families with more conservative parents and siblings of similar ages, you only really start with your respective journey to find yourself in your teens. Then there are often restrictions that are meant to distract from those darker influences. My parents on the other hand are very liberal and my brother was 13 years older than me. There were never limits or censorship for me. My childhood didn’t go by without rules entirely, but I was always allowed to watch or listen to what my brother was also watching or listening to. That was I was exposed to all kinds of teenage culture from the beginning. Sure, I also liked Pippi Longstocking and He-Man. But that was always combined with the French arthouse films my mother liked to watch or the horror flicks my brother was into. I can’t recall a particularly striking horror film experience, but I still remember the first time it dawned on me that movies don’t just exist, they’re made.

M. Hockenbrink: How do you mean?

T. Forge: My father worked as a documentary maker in television. His job was to connect the video track and the sound track in a fitting way for different film production. I saw Jaws on television with him as a small child. It’s important to note that my father is not somebody who can just quietly enjoy films but somebody who likes to butt in. Thanks to him I already had a kind of epiphany during the introduction. He said: “Look closely! There is nothing to see in this underwater scenery except the algae. Technically completely harmless. But it only takes the ominous music to turn the whole scene into pure horror already!” And I thought: Wow! That’s true! Later in the movie you only have to hear that music and it immediately puts you on edge, even when there’s nobody in the water right now. They don’t even have to show the shark anymore. I found it fascinating that the [viewer’s] senses/perception could be manipulated like that. Ever since I’ve been viewing films with different eyes. I can still allow myself to dive into the story but at the same time I see the practical aspect to film-making.

M. Hockenbrink: I had a similar feeling during the introduction of Shining: technically a cozy road trip in the mountains, but a pure nightmare with the music.

T. Forge: I’m with you on that. Shining is one of the best movies of all time. And funnily enough, only the intro sequence was actually shot in nature. All the other scenes, even if they were outside, were filmed in the studio. Exactly that kind of craftsmanship is what I find inspiring.

M. Hockenbrink: With that in mind, what makes a good soundtrack in your opinion?

T. Forge: We already talked about Jaws, but I can think of Eyes Wide Shut as another example. There is that short piano theme that comes up again and again, incredibly effective. A good soundtrack needs to deliver something that you don’t have to be able to see to perceive its existence. Sure, there are no monsters in Eyes Wide Shut, aside from the main character’s jealousy as an internal monster maybe. But just like the music in Jaws, the theme from Eyes Wide Shut symbolises something that doesn’t have to be shown. The sound is enough. That is also a commonly used effect in adventure and love movies. You just put in a short vignette to describe the love between two characters. In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker also has his own theme, that is used every time when things get emotional and you’re supposed to feel that hope. You’ve got to pay attention to that. Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th also has a personal theme to recognise him by. Every time you hear it you immediately know “Oh shit, he’s nearby!”

M. Hockenbrink: What about soundtracks that are made up of songs?

T. Forge: With that, I’m especially thinking of Silence of the Lambs. In the scene where Buffalo Bill dresses up as a woman and dances around his basement, a song called Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus is playing. I have no idea how the artist felt that since the song is now so irrevocably connected to that awful scene, that you can’t listen to it anymore without thinking of it.

M. Hockenbrink: Do you feel like soundtrack work is more appreciated now than it used to be?

T. Forge: I think that it’s definitely gained importance over the last 40 years. The right song on the right soundtrack can be incredibly powerful. Just think of Stranger Things. Obviously, Metallica and Kate Bush already had successful careers before, but what happened with Master of Puppets and Running Up That Hill following the series was something else entirely. The songs were associated so strongly with the narrative, that way more people listened to them than before. Of course I’m a strong advocate for live music but I also realised that nothing is as strong as the connection of visuals and music. That is still the most powerful way to appeal to a deeper emotion through the association.

M. Hockenbrink: More or less a shortcut to the subconscious.

T. Forge: Exactly. But you can’t be cynical about that either. If I was an A&R person at a big label, I would probably also say: “You just have to find a spot for one of your songs on a popular soundtrack, then you’ll have made it!” That’s really how it is. But when you view it from an artistic perspective, when you want to reach people a certain way or bring across a certain message or a certain feeling, the combination of visuals and sound can’t be topped.

M. Hockenbrink: It especially lends itself to an immersive experience, as seems to be in the foreground of [RHRN]. An album by Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden ends at some point, then you’re gone from that metal world again. With Ghost, however, you get the feeling that the illusion just keeps on going, across several media. Did you plan the Ghost mythology like this from the start?

T. Forge: In part. When I started with the band, I only wanted to make a standalone album. The concept was supposed to be interesting and practical, but I wasn’t planning for Ghost to be a huge thing. The style I pictured has its own limits in my opinion. The band was supposed to function a certain way and appeal to a certain target audience. The concert was supposed to be a theatrical performance in the literal sense. Ghost were never supposed to perform in a normal rock club nor go on tour. I wanted more of a kind of Vaudeville show in a proper plushy theatre. The band was supposed to be as anonymous as the actors that stand on stage and play, say, Faust. The idea behind this was: Those who don’t know who the people are on stage are more ready to follow the story. Then we would perform three days back-to-back in select cities. Berlin, Amsterdam, London. Just like Diamanda Galás who can more likely be found at a culture festival than in a rock shack. But things turned out differently in the end, and I had to kiss my original ideas goodbye again, so to speak.

M. Hockenbrink: Why?

T. Forge: After the success of our debut album, it became clear to me that more conventional concerts were going to be demanded of us and that I could only really say yes or no. This problem became worse after our shift to a bigger label. It became clear that my vision of telling stories clashed with the live sector and requirements for success more and more. At a certain point anonymity doesn’t work anymore and I had to make peace with that in the end.  I originally didn’t even want to do interviews but that’s obviously tricky when you want to sell records. The question that I constantly ask myself since is how I can do those things best in the Ghost way without denying the original Vaudeville spirit.

M. Hockenbrink: In his autobiography Golf Monster, Alice Cooper talks about himself in third person a lot when he is talking about his character. Are you feeling similarly at this point?

T. Forge: At least I can definitely see where he’s coming from. There is a difference between the person Vincent Furnier and the character Alice Cooper. I believe that he was on the verge of completely transforming into Alice Cooper at one point – to the point where one has to decide where they want to live or die. In the end he decided to remain Vincent Furnier and only become Alice Cooper for work, on stage. So far I’ve been fortunate to combine the two pretty well, but had I started Ghost ten years earlier in my life, it would have probably affected me similarly to how Alice Cooper did with Vincent Furnier in his time. But with my humble experience as an actor I have to say: every character you play becomes a part of you to a certain extent. You have to find certain qualities – good or bad – within yourself to bring such a character to life. I think that most actors only play one or two roles throughout their life that they then end up being known for. The different characters that I’ve portrayed on stage are not only very similar but actually also a part of me. Fortunately a part of me that I don’t want to deal with all day long.

M. Hockenbrink: Too cynical and antisocial?

T. Forge: Cardinal Copia or Cardi, as I like to call him, is not an all-around cool person, but that makes him so fun to play for me. He is half Freddie Mercury and half Jacques Clouseau. Kind of clumsy, kind of silly, kind of stupid. The kind of guy who trips over his own feet but catches himself elegantly. That’s also me in a way, but not just. And I think that’s easier to embody than a daredevil hero character who can rival anyone and gets all the ladies. When somebody plays only those characters their whole life, it will probably really go to their head. Especially when there are drugs involved on top of that.

M. Hockenbrink: With all that fondness of doom that can be found with Ghost, that universe also has something humorous about it, benign even. It that an intentionally included contradiction?

T. Forge: Yes, and it is also very important to me that it comes across like that. For me that also has something to do with the evolution of metal. Originally it was mostly a phenomenon connected to the youth, nowadays the musicians and their fans are close to retiring. That brings a certain maturity. Even the Norwegian black metal musicians who were super pissed and extreme 30 years ago and were only made of hate and aggression are well-adjusted people now. Bearded fathers and grandfathers with a pleasant view on life that make others laugh. I see a certain duality there. Everything that has something to do with goth, with metal, with horror, appears dark, dismal and hostile at first. But in reality, that can all be extremely life-affirming and a source of great joy for many people. So pretty much the opposite.

M. Hockenbrink: Speaking of horror: could you imagine making a real feature film some day?

T. Forge: Yes, I would love that. I’m well aware that it’s not going to be easy to make what I’m picturing a reality, just because I’ve done directing once with [RHRN] now. The creative liberty I got to enjoy there also was due to the fact that I funded the movie myself. So nobody was meddling with it. That is likely completely different when you work on behalf of a big studio, because we are talking about different sums here. If I only go off my dreams, I would name two points of reference. One is Shining, the other Bram Stoker’s Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola. I would like to make a movie that’s only shot in a studio, with elaborate sets, matte painting and all that. No outside shots, no special effects, no green screen. And no actors who only gets to see what they were actually doing after the fact. Proper old-school. The way movies are actually meant to look.

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 63]

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AO3 Link

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Tobias, Nia, and Junie travel back to the Lexym Guild with Fidel in tow, where they update August and reunite with an unexpected face.

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The next morning is thankfully clear for their flight back to the guild. Tobias is the first one up, as usual, but Nia and Junie only grumble a little upon being woken up, since they can’t sleep in with Fidel and the flight ‘mon waiting on them.

By time they’ve grabbed breakfast and their gear and left the inn, Fidel is already stationed near one of the empty bonfire pits. Behind him, perched on the wall surrounding the cliffside village, two large flying types are perched.

For a split-second, Tobias thinks the bulkier silhouette is Fliss, but as they get closer he can see that there are a few differences. This Pokemon’s plumage is a different color, a stark white layered above a gray undercoat. And the crest above his face is definitely different, too—an almost eye-like pattern of bright blue and purple. No scar, either. A shiny, maybe? Or the psychic type variant if braviary that Fliss had mentioned before?

Whatever the case, he’s massive, possibly even larger than Fliss.

Next to him is a slightly smaller Pokemon—a pidgeot. She gives them a calm smile as they approach, the long yellow and red feathers atop her head streaming behind her in the wind.

Fidel turns to greet them as well. “Ah, good morning.”

“Yeesh,” Junie says. “You sure it’s a good morning? You look rough, dude.”

Tobias had thought the same—the zoroark’s voice is duller than usual, his smile worn and tired—but at least Tobias had the tact not to say it.

“Junie!” Nia quietly scolds.

Fidel laughs. “I’m aware I’m not at my finest, Nia. It’s been a long morning. And night. Asher was not pleased about my leaving on such short notice.”

Nia makes a sympathetic sound in her throat. “Understandable. You two do seem close.”

“We are. I hate to leave him so suddenly, but I know Will and the rest of the settlement will look after him.” The zoroark shoulders his large pack, looking them over. “You’re all ready to head out? You picked out some snow gear from Florence’s shop?”

“Yup!” Nia says.

“My coat makes me look like a lemon,” Junie’s adds cheerfully.

Fidel’s smile curves into something a bit more genuine. “That’ll make you easy to spot on the mountain, I suppose.”

“Yeah! See, Toby? Strategic advantage.”

“Strategic stupidity.”

“Hey!”

Fidel interrupts the brewing squabble by introducing the two flight ‘mon who will be flying them across the Obsidian Sea, back to the Metreja continent and the guild nestled within Bethoc’s Haven. The braviary, Cato, greets them with a nod, and the pidgeot, Auretta, ducks her head with a polite, “Pleased to meet you all.”

Since Fidel is heavier than Tobias, Nia, and Junie combined, he boards the braviary alone. The rest of them crawl atop the pidgeot, who crouches low to ease their climb.

Nia sits behind Tobias as has become the norm, so she can hold onto him and hide her face. By now, Tobias is almost used to the way she wraps her arms around his torso, though he still has to will his face not to burn with embarrassment.

“Ooh, cozy,” Junie teases. “Where do I sit?”

The flying types decide to have Junie settle in front of Tobias, and she wastes no time leaning back against him like her own personal seat. She cranes her head back, grinning. He flicks her forehead. She snaps her beak at his fingers with a playful clack clack.

Shortly after, they leave the human settlement with a powerful beating of wings, lifting into cool dawn air and higher into the sky, until the collection of stone buildings lining the cliffside look more like toys than an actual city.

And then they’re off.

———————————————————————————————

Junie, of course, can’t stay quiet for long, so they’ve only just reached the ocean when she finally stops trying to talk to Tobias (who is busy enjoying the flight) and Nia (who is busy being terrified) and instead strikes up conversation with the pidgeot.

Luckily, Auretta seems content to chat as they glide over open water, and it doesn’t take long for the conversation between the two to turn to flight.

“Yeah,” Junie says. “I’m not, uh, a real strong flier yet. I get freaked out flying too high on my own. But I wanna be a mail ‘mon one day, so I’m working on it! And riding on your back doesn’t scare me or anything.”

The pidgeot hums in response. Then she turns her head to catch Junie’s eye. “Have you ever flown over the ocean?”

“Nope!”

“Would you like to try?”

It takes a moment for Junie to understand what Auretta means. Then she squawks, “Right now?! What if I crash?”

“I’ll watch you,” Auretta soothes. “I helped my little sister learn to fly over these very waves, once. And she was a pidgey at the time, so not much larger than you.”

“Aren’t the winds unpredictable nowadays?” Tobias asks, dubious.

“They are,” Auretta confirms. “But they seem calm today. Would you like to try? Your wingspan isn’t made for soaring like ours, but we’re here so you can always take a break.”

Junie still seems unsure, leaning over to peer down at the waves far below. But after a long moment of silence she shakes herself and says, “You know what? Why not! Just, uh. Don’t let me die, okay?”

The pidgeot trills a sound somewhere between amused and encouraging. “Of course not. I’ll be here.”

For the next few minutes, the pidgeot gently coaches Junie, teaching her how to keep her wings steady and ride the air currents, as well as how to seek out thermals to elevate.

Eventually, Junie works up the courage to leap from Auretta’s back. The rookidee’s wings snap out and beat furiously, and for a heart-stopping moment Junie is swept back head-over-heels by a powerful gust of wind.

But Auretta is quick to tuck her wings and drop back with her, calmly buffeting the wind in front of Junie so she can regain her balance.

Still, Tobias can’t help looking back to make sure Junie just didn’t plummet into the ocean. Nia, whose arms had tightened around him, squeaks, “I-Is she okay?!”

She is. Her little face is screwed up with determination as she listens to Auretta calmly explain to keep her wings steady and to soar with the air current instead of working against it.

It takes a few more minutes before Junie seems to have the hang of it, only a little shaky as she coasts along behind Auretta.

“I think I got it!” Junie shouts.

Fidel, who had been watching from atop the braviary off to the side, yells, “Good work!”

“Stay calm, even when the winds shift,” the braviary adds, watching as well.

“I’m going to elevate,” Auretta calls over her shoulder. “The wind will feel stronger for a moment, but just let it take you, all right? We’re on a wide current, so you shouldn't be lead astray. Don’t panic.”

Junie calls, “Got it!”

The pidgeot tilts and flies higher, out of Junie’s path.

Junie looks overwhelmed for a moment, flapping once before stopping herself and straightening her wings. She wobbles, but then she’s quickly picked up like a leaf on the wind, moving forward at a brisk clip.

Before anyone can ask how she’s doing, Junie whoops a loud, joyous sound. Auretta dips so she can fly right beside her, and Junie turns to face them with a beaming grin.

“Toby, look! I did it! And it feels awesome!”

Tobias can’t help smiling back, something sharp and warm in his chest. He always wanted to be there when his sister evolved and got to fly herself for the first time. This isn’t that, but it’s close enough to have him choked up.

“You did it,” he says, trying not to make it obvious that he’s feeling stupidly emotional.

Luckily, Junie is too distracted by her own joy to call him out on it, simply turning her face up to enjoy the sun.

Of course, it’s not five minutes later before Junie starts begging Auretta and Cato to show her how to do some “cool flight tricks.” Tobias is relieved when they gently shoot down her idea of learning how to barrel roll.

————————————————————————————————

The rest of the trip is largely uneventful, thankfully, no rogue winds to disrupt their journey across the sea. Nia stays hidden in Tobias’ shoulder most of the time, but she makes muffled comments occasionally, so she must be listening to their conversations.

At one point Tobias thinks he catches a glimpse of Giratina checking in on them in the reflection of the sky below, but the titan is gone too quickly for Tobias to be sure.

They’d borrowed a cup of water the night before to update Giratina on their findings about Yveltal and Xerneas, and their plans to go to Silenfroar. Giratina had seemed to approve, apparently deeming their guess a valid possibility.

However, he’d also seemed more exhausted than usual, expression flat and his subdued gestures lacking their usual bite. Nia, being Nia, had of course asked if he was all right.

Giratina had straightened up, walls visibly rebuilding as he nodded. Nia clearly hadn’t been convinced, but without a way to hear Giratina speaking through the reflection it wasn’t like they could even understand anything he said except a yes or no answer.

Regardless of what was actually wrong—if anything—Tobias figures that Giratina just doesn’t feel like wasting valuable time and energy to monitor them today.

Junie takes to resting periodically on Auretta’s back, but she still leaps back into the air as much as possible, rambling about how impressed Bo will be by her new skills.

Hours pass peacefully this way, and it’s nearly noon, the sun high and bright overhead, when the braviary calls out, “Land ahoy!”

Tobias squints, ignoring Nia’s quiet, “Thank goodness.” Sure enough, the shore of the Bethoc Bluffs and the forest of the Haven lie on the horizon, faded blue with distance.

Tobias is startled out of his search by a high, unexpected voice coming from Fidel and Cato’s direction.

“Finally! I thought we’d never get there!”

Cato falters, and everyone else’s heads snap over.

From the pack still strapped to Fidel’s back, a tiny gray and red head is poking out with a devious grin, clearly enjoying their stunned reactions.

“Asher?!” Junie yells.

“Asher?” Fidel asks, half shocked and half concerned. He quickly unstraps his pack to pull it in front of him. Seeing that his son is unharmed, his brows lower. “What are you doing here?”

The zorua sinks low into the bag at his father’s upset tone, until all Tobias can see are golden eyes and lowered ears. He can barely hear the zorua over the wind as he says, “I didn’t want you to go.”

Fidel’s anger softens. He sighs. “I didn’t want to leave you either, but that does not mean you are allowed to disobey direct orders. What if we were going straight to the mountains and had to stop to find somewhere safe for you to stay?”

“I’d be okay!” Asher says. “I’m tough! And I can always hide in your hair to stay warm.”

“You are not coming to the mountians,” Fidel says, voice hard. “And I will be double-checking that you haven’t decided to sneak along again before we go.”

Asher pouts. “But—"

“No. You will stay at the guild’s nursery until we return.”

Asher perks up again. “Does that mean you’re not sending me back to the settlement? Please tell me you’re not. It’s so boring there!”

Fidel sighs, glancing over at Tobias, Nia, and Junie. “…No. we can’t afford to turn around simply to drop you off. You’ll come with us to the Lexym Guild, as long as Team Scarlet thinks you’d be welcome there.”

“Of course he would!” Junie chirps, despite having never been to the guild herself.

Tobias squashes her down with a hand, ignoring her offended cheep. “I’m sure Asher can stay in the guild’s nursery while we’re gone. Honestly, the shinx kids will probably be thrilled to have a new playmate.”

Asher almost wiggles out of his father’s hold in his excitement. “Ooh, are they fun? How old are they? I bet I could turn into a shinx!”

“Don’t sound so thrilled,” Fidel admonishes. “We will be talking about this more once we settle in. You’re still in trouble.”

“Right. Sorry,” Asher says.

Tobias doesn’t think he sounds all that sorry at all, but it is clear Asher doesn’t like upsetting his father, even if he doesn’t really regret stowing away.

Despite the scolding, Fidel doesn’t stop his son from joining in the conversation after that. Some part of Tobias thinks the zoroark is actually relieved to have his son nearby where he can keep an eye on him.

Half the remaining journey is spent with Asher yelling questions across the sky about the Lexym Guild, which Tobias answers patiently. Junie wastes no time jumping in with questions of her own.

They must’ve taken a different flight route than usual since they came straight from the human settlement, because today they pass over a beach town near the bluffs on the edge of the continent. It’s a fairly small place, bigger than Stonebrook but much smaller than Ghatha. Closer to Fort Asra’s population than anything. Tobias thinks he remembers visiting once or twice with Maggie when he was younger.

As they fly over the bustling town, the braviary carrying Fidel suddenly jerks, strong enough to cut off Asher’s rambling with a yip. Fidel pulls his son closer.

“Cato?” Auretta says, tone concerned. She flies closer, as if to steady him.

The braviary doesn’t answer for a moment, frowning down at the quiet activity of the town below. “I’m fine. Just…thought I felt something strange in the air for a moment.”

Tobias frowns, eyeing the braviary’s crest. Fliss said that braviary variants were psychic types, right? Psychics do tend to be a bit more sensitive to certain things.

But after a tense moment of observation, the braviary shakes his head. “Probably nothing. Likely some psychic types playing with their powers. Apologies for the scare.”

The rest of them take the dismissal for what it is, slowly relaxing again. Asher and Junie resume their questioning after a minute or two.

The two chatterboxes only fall silent once they reach the Haven in earnest, and the giant tree that houses the Lexym Guild towers in the distance, far above the other trees of the forest.

“It’s huge!” Junie says. “You guys didn’t tell me you lived somewhere so cool!”

Tobias shrugs. He’s lived at the guild for over eight years now, so it’s long since lost its novelty. It’s just…home, nowadays.

Auretta and Cato find the mail ‘mons’ flight floor with easy familiarity, alighting on the wooden platforms with gentle thumps.

Fidel and Asher slide down from the braviary’s back, and Auretta crouches for Tobias, Nia and Junie to do the same. Tobias tries to help Nia soften her landing, but she still winces as she lands, paw going to her ribs.

The two flight ‘mon were paid in advance by Will, so they give their goodbyes and head off to the flight outpost. Junie hops after them, calling out her thanks for the impromptu flight lesson.

It’s not long until the two flying types are out of sight.

“So what now?” Junie asks, eyes sparkling as she takes in the open, windy interior and wooden walls. “Gonna give us the grand tour?”

For once, Tobias wishes they could do something so laid-back, but he knows they need to get something else over with first.

“We need to talk to August first. Update him and see if he found anything out about Xerneas while we were gone. Plus, we need to get his approval so we can travel to the mountains. He might have some tips for us.”

“And…” Nia adds, looking nervous. “Um. We have to tell him about the whole Kaleido Bay thing, right?”

The mark on their record, yeah. As their guildmaster, August will find out about it sooner or later, so Tobias would rather the rillaboom hear it straight from him.

Tobias nods, ignoring Asher’s curious look and Junie’s sympathetic grimace.

“We’ll join you, if that’s all right. I need to make sure it’s okay for Asher to stay here while we’re gone,” Fidel says, giving his son—who is happily sniffing circles around the room, probably tracking an old scent—an unimpressed look.

Decision made, Tobias leads their little group up the few flights to August’s office. He just hopes the rillaboom is free so they can get this over with.

The whole walk, Junie and Asher take turns eagerly pointing out different parts of the Lexym Tree’s construction, peering through the lattice windows they pass and asking how they built a whole guild inside of a tree.

“I think it’s magic,” Nia whispers conspiratorially, leaning closer to Asher and wiggling her fingers.

Asher grins. “Has to be. Even with lotsa grass types around, this tree is humongous! Like, weirdly so. Right, Dad?”

“It is impressive.”

“Hm. Magic and lots of love and care?” Nia jokes, glancing at Tobias.

Tobias snorts. “I’m sure that’s it.”

Tobias is glad they don’t push for actual answers, at least, considering he doesn’t have them. As far as he knows, the Lexym Tree has been like this for over a century, since the guilds were first formed and Bethoc herself founded this branch.

Still, their good mood nosedives as they reach August’s quarters at the top of the guild. The stone doors are closed tight, vines wrapping around their surface, and bright autumn foliage wreathes the corners of the doorframe.

Tobias takes a deep breath and knocks. He’s both relieved and disappointed when August’s deep voice can be faintly heard in response.

Verene is the one who opens the doors. The lurantis scans Tobias and the others with mild surprise, but she opens the door wider without hesitation, silently ushering them in.

August seems just as surprised to see them, though his expression quickly turns to warm relief.

Tobias stomach churns. For a second, he considers not telling August about their transgression in Kaleido at all.

…But no, that’ll only delay the inevitable. And August would be even more disappointed in them if they tried to hide it.

Tobias takes another breath to calm his nerves.

“Team Scarlet! I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. And I see you’ve brought company?”

Tobias nods, gesturing first at Junie. “Juniper the rookidee. You might remember that we met her in Ghatha on our last trip East.”

“Junie,” Junie corrects, hopping forward with a dramatic bow. “I live in

Stonebrook! I’m just here to help these two knuckleheads stay in one piece.”

August chuckles. “Pleasure to meet you. And you two?”

Fidel steps forward, his usual friendly demeanor stiffening as he bows as well. “Fidel the zoroark. Second in command at the human settlement south of Ghatha. This is my son, Asher.”

“Hiya!” Asher chirps. In a flash of light, he morphs into a grookey to bow just as dramatically as Junie had.

Junie snorts, but Fidel almost looks panicked as he nudges his son. Asher glances up at him, sighs, then transforms back into a zorua to bow more respectfully.

August watches the exchange with a strange expression, half-amused and half…sad, almost? Still, his smile is warm when Fidel looks back to him. “You and your son are welcome here, Fidel. Worry not.”

Fidel’s tense posture doesn’t relax, but he does nod, murmuring his thanks.

“Happy as I am to welcome you all to the Lexym Guild, am I wrong in assuming you have a purpose in mind, coming here with Team Scarlet? Have you news on your search for Xerneas?”

Tobias nods. “Will’s team did some research, and we think we have a place to start looking.”

He glances at Fidel, and the zoroark takes over.

“Xerneas and Yveltal rest within a certain proximity of one another during their sleep cycles.”

August nods, not looking surprised. He must’ve found similar claims in his own research here at the guild.

“As such, we only need to find one before we have an anchor point to find the other,” Fidel continues. “We can also assume from the legends that their resting places display specific qualities. Namely, that Xerneas will rest somewhere lush, and Yveltal somewhere barren. In addition, the crystals forming their cocoons typically spill over into the environment around them as well.”

August narrows his eyes, a thoughtful hand coming up to his chin. “That makes sense, considering the role of each legendary in regards to the ecosystem. I’m assuming you believe one of the two legendaries to be nearby since you followed Team Scarlet all the way back to Metreja?”

Fidel nods, looking to Nia.

She startles, but hurries forward to continue. “Y-Yes! Do you remember the sableye we rescued in that dungeon on the river, along with Team Aqua Jet? Carnelian?”

August smiles. “I do. A nervous little fellow, but very polite.”

“Yes! Before he left the guild, he mentioned that he was going somewhere to investigate some strange crystals.”

“The Silenfroar Mountain range,” Tobias adds.

August straightens, brow furrowing with understanding. “Which would certainly be a barren landscape, yes?”

Fidel nods. “We’re thinking that Yveltal may be resting there. However, we want to investigate and confirm for sure so we can use his location as a tether to find Xerneas, considering they should be within sight of one another.”

August hums, thoughtful, his gaze locked on one of the branches snaking its way through the walls of the room and bringing a burst of autumn leaves with it.

Tobias frowns. He knows August well enough after all these years to guess what that look means. “You found something out while we were gone, didn’t you?”

August blinks back to the present, and laughs. “That transparent, am I? We have been performing our own research in your brief absence, but let me confirm my suspicions with Alistair and Tawny first before I share what I suspect. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep you all in the loop.”

Tobias doesn’t doubt that August is telling the truth, despite how much grief he’s given his guildmaster over the years.

Another jab of guilt in Tobias’ chest.

“You trained up in those mountains once, right?” Tobias asks, pushing past the feeling. “Did you hear anything about Yveltal while you were there?”

August looks faintly surprised that Tobias remembers that little tidbit, probably since it was shared so many years ago. The rillaboom shakes his head. “No, I heard nothing of the sort while I was there. But though they welcomed me on a surface level by the end of my training, I was never truly one of them. It’s likely they would still keep important secrets from me, and a legendary hidden in their territory would certainly qualify.”

“Oh,” Nia says, wilting. “Does that mean you wouldn’t be able to put in a good word for us?”

August’s brows raise. “You mean to travel up the mountain yourselves? All of you?”

“Will would like to work with ‘mon he personally knows he can trust,” Fidel says. “And I could help to assure their safety, if you permit it.”

“And Giratina asked US to look into Xerneas,” Tobias adds. Well, he asked Nia, but still—they’re a unit. “And we know Carnelian, too. He trusts us. It makes sense for us to go.”

Nia and Junie open their mouths to add their own input, but August lifts a hand to stop them.

“You don’t need to try so hard to convince me. You’ve already proven yourselves worthy of missions far above your ranking, and you aren’t the worst option in the guild, type-wise.”

Verene, who had been silently watching the exchange off to the side, steps forward for the first time, pink and white claws crossed politely but voice firm. “All the same, August, if time is a pressing matter, should we not send someone who could make the trip faster? I know we don’t have many upper-level Seekers on hand who are great in the cold, but someone like Team Sequoia could adapt well.”

Andyn’s parents? Oh, absolutely not. Tobias is not trusting the fate of the world to two sawsbuck who can’t even raise their own kid properly.

Before he can protest, August shakes his head. “You know as well as I do that Team Sequoia would make enemies of the village sooner than they’d find any answers, Verene. Trust me on this. We need someone non-threatening who already has a connection with the sableye researcher at the very least.” He smiles at them. “As I cannot go myself, I have a feeling this group is exactly the team for the job.”

Tobias is going to die from the guilt. A glance at Nia shows she’s feeling the same, wincing under the praise.

Verene doesn’t seem thrilled by August’s answer, glancing over Nia, Tobias, Junie and Asher doubtfully, but she dutifully steps back.

August looks back to them. “You have my approval for Team Scarlet to investigate the Silenfroar mountain range for signs of Xerneas or Yveltal’s presence. I do want you to wait a day or so for my confirmation before you depart, though. I need to draft a letter to the matriarch of the village if you want to bypass any initial suspicion. Additionally, I want you to prepare properly—the mountainside can be brutal, especially if you run into any bad weather. Make sure to get some snow clothes from Vera before leaving.”

“Already done!” Junie chirps. “Will hooked us up.”

“We didn’t grab shoes, though,” Nia frets. “The ones at the shop looked too thin, so…”

August bends over his desk for a moment to scribble a note to himself. “In that case, make sure you grab some snowshoes before departing from the guild. I believe Vera has a few pairs in storage. I’ll send word so she can dig them out.”

Nia gives her thanks, looking relieved.

“What about me?” Asher asks, head craning back to look up at his father.

Fidel falters. “Right. Guildmaster, would it be possible for my son to stay here in your guild’s nursery while we journey up the mountain? He was not supposed to join on this trip, but…”

“Of course,” August says, clearly catching Fidel off-guard with such easy approval. “Arlo and his assistants can handle one more bundle of chaos, I’m sure. Just be sure not to cause them too much grief, little one.”

Asher perks up with a radiant smile. “Of course not, sir!”

Junie and Tobias snort in unison.

“Does that mean I’m cool to crash with Nia and Toby while I’m here too?” Junie asks.

August nods. “I expected as much. You should have more than enough room in Team Scarlet’s quarters.”

Junie whispers, “Mission accomplished!” to Nia, making the riolu smile.

August makes a sound in his throat as if he just remembered something. “Speaking of which, you actually have another guest who requested to meet with you. They’ve been staying in the guest quarters the last few days, but I’ll send word for them to meet up with you right away. I’m sure they’ll be interested in joining you on your journey to Silenfroar.”

Tobias blinks, surprised, and exchanges a confused look with Nia. A guest?

“You and your son will also have guest quarters for the duration of your stay,” August says to Fidel, quickly writing down some details on a slip of paper before holding it out to him. “Though Asher is more than welcome to sleep in the nursery while you’re away.”

Fidel takes the slip of paper after a beat of hesitation, murmuring his thanks. Asher clambers up his father’s side to perch on his shoulder and read it too.

“If that’s all,” August says, “I’m sure you’re all hungry after your travels. Feel free to go to the cafeteria—they should still be serving lunch at this hour.”

Nia and Tobias hesitate, exchanging a reluctant glance. Part of Tobias just wants to leave and deal with the mark on their record later, especially if August could potentially rescind his permission for them to investigate the mountains, but…

He can’t just lie to August, not after how welcoming he’s been to them. Today, and for Tobias’ whole life, honestly.

“We have something else to tell you,” Tobias sighs. He glances uncomfortably at Fidel. “About, uh…an incident we were a part of in Kaleido Bay.”

August straightens, his smile curving into a concerned frown.

Fidel must pick up on their discomfort, because he smiles awkwardly and dips his head. “In that case, Asher and I will go find our lodgings for the night and grab some food. I’ll come to speak with you tomorrow, Team Scarlet.”

“Can we go see the nursery first?!” Asher asks, shaking his dad’s shoulder. “I gotta find those shinx kids!”

“We can,” Fidel agrees with a wry look. “But you’re also helping me draft a letter to poor Will to let him know you’re safe. He’ll be in a fuss over your disappearance.”

Asher winces. “…Whoops. Didn’t think about that.”

“Yes, ‘Whoops.’” Fidel turns back to August with another formal bow. “Thank you again for your hospitality, Guildmaster.”

August nods and dismisses the father and son, and they take their leave to slip quietly from the room.

In their absence, a heavy silence falls.

August turns back to them, looking more concerned than anything. “What exactly is this ‘incident’ that occurred in Kaleido Bay?”

Tobias takes a breath and steps forward. “It was my fault. We found out that one of the Pokemon responsible for the death of my family was being held in the prison there. I wanted to talk to him.”

August recoils, clearly not expecting that answer. The rillaboom surely knows the vague details of how Tobias came to join the guild years ago, but even Maggie doesn’t have the full story. And Tobias has certainly never willingly divulged details like this to him.

It helps to say it like a report. To keep a clinical sort of distance from the event itself.

Verene is staring at Tobias with uncharacteristic emotion, pink eyes wide with shock. Tobias wouldn’t be surprised if this is the first time she’s hearing about his circumstances at all, considering she wasn’t at the guild when he first arrived.

August could’ve told her at some point, of course, but Tobias realizes suddenly that he’d always just trusted that August would keep it as quiet as possible out of respect for his privacy. After all, from the very beginning, August was one of the few ‘mon at the guild who treated Tobias with respect. He has always showed a deep, honest sympathy for Tobias’ circumstances, rather than pity.

August has always been on Tobias’ side, even if Tobias didn’t recognize it until recently.

Which is why Tobias is going to keep his lying to a minimum, here and now. They can’t implicate Rosalind because Arceus knows what she would do in retaliation, but…

“We blackmailed a guard to get into the prison,” Tobias admits, lifting his chin and locking eyes with August. “I had to know.”

August’s expression becomes more somber. He leans forward to rest his chin on interlaced fingers. “I see. And did you find what you were looking for by speaking with this outlaw?”

Tobias swallows down fresh grief. “…In a way, yes. I don’t regret doing it.”

He does regret getting Nia in trouble too, and of course the danger of the whole situation in the first place, but as far as tarnishing his own record? He’d do that a thousand times over to find answers. To get some closure.

“Nia didn’t want me to go alone, but it was entirely my idea.”

“I went along with it,” Nia protests, stepping up to his side. “I-I…I should bear any punishment you give, too.”

August hums, looking between them. “And you two are telling me this out of the goodness of your hearts? Or were you found out?”

“Dismas made an escape attempt while we were there,” Tobias says, lifting his arm to show his still-bandaged side, finally almost healed. “We delayed him until reinforcements arrived, but that did bring attention to the whole incident. One of the wardens came to talk to us afterwards and explained that due to our help we would get a lighter punishment, but we’ll still have a mark on our record. You should be receiving notice of that soon.”

August is silent for a few moments, looking to Verene as if to gauge her reaction. She looks troubled by the admission of wrongdoing, but strangely uncertain, too. Likely still reeling from the revelation about Tobias’ family.

Finally, August sighs, making a note on a slip of paper on his desk. “Well, I certainly can’t condone you both engaging in such unsavory activity, not to mention where you received the knowledge to blackmail a prison guard in the first place—"

Here, August pauses to give them a stern, knowing look that makes them wince.

“—But I can also understand where you are coming from, Tobias. I suppose my next question must be whether you plan to repeat such behavior in the future?”

“Not if it might hurt someone else,” Nia answers first. Tobias looks at her, surprised by the passion in her voice.

“The Pokemon we blackmailed got in trouble, too,” Nia continues, quieter, voice shaky. “I-I can’t do that again. Hurt someone else for personal gain.”

She peeks at Tobias as she says it, expression both hard and pleading, as if begging him not to put her in such a situation again.

Tobias feels fresh guilt worm its way into his gut. He hadn’t thought much about Jude’s repercussions at all. Of course Nia has been stewing in guilt over them the whole time.

“Agreed,” Tobias finally says, crumbling under Nia’s expression. “I…can’t say I wouldn’t be tempted in the future if information about the outlaws who killed my family was on the line, but I’ll go with Nia on this. I promise no one else will be caught in the crossfire in the future.”

August gives them a tired smile. “As much as I am pleased to hear that your hearts are in the right place, as your guildmaster I need to remind you both that you should not admit to planning to break any rules to Verene and I.”

Nia and Tobias both wince, Nia murmuring a quiet, “Sorry.”

August chuckles, shaking his head.

Verene looks torn, as if unsure if August should be taking all of this so lightly.

Tobias swallows, pushing forward. “Do we still have your permission to investigate the Silenfroar Mountains?”

August quirks a brow. “Would it stop you if I said no?”

Nia and Tobias exchange an uncertain look.

August coughs, though it sounds suspiciously like he’s covering a laugh. “Don’t answer that. Typically, teams with infractions for suspicious activity would be put on leave while the issue was investigated, but seeing as you came to tell me your reasoning directly, that step of the process is complete for now. I do truly believe you all are the best choice for this mission, so I’ll keep you as the assigned team.”

Tobias releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, hearing Nia do the same next to him.

“However,” August continues, pinning them both with a stern look. “This is still a permanent red flag on your record. Accumulate more than two and your team will be put on leave indefinitely. Do not put me in that position. Got it?”

Tobias straightens up with a nod. “Yes sir.”

“Y-Yes sir!”

August holds the look for a moment longer, then waves them out. “In that case, you three are free to go. I’ll send your other guest to your quarters soon. And I believe you had a rather large delivery as well during your absence.

Tobias blinks. News of a “guest” is strange enough, but they had a big delivery, too?

Tobias doesn’t question it aloud, though. He, Nia and even Junie bow and say their thanks before scurrying out of the room.

Just before Tobias crosses the threshold, August calls out, “Tobias?”

Tobias stops, looking back at the rillaboom.

His face is soft. “Circumstances aside, I’m glad you found what you were looking for in the prison. I hope it bring you some measure of peace.”

Tobias swallows against an unexpected wave of emotion, nodding and mumbling his thanks before following Nia and Junie out of the room.

As soon as the door closes behind them and they’re alone in the hallway, Junie sags to the floor. “Whew! Well that was nerve-racking. No wonder you don’t like to get in trouble, Nia.”

“Who does?” Nia asks, aghast.

Tobias just points at Junie, who proudly fluffs out her chest. She’s an impidimp under all those feathers, he swears.

“Well, I certainly don’t enjoy it,” Nia murmurs. But then she perks up. “Oh! But what do you think August meant by us having a guest? And a delivery?”

“I want food and a tour soon, but I’m curious too. We could go to your room first to check it out?” Junie suggests.

Tobias doesn’t see any issue with that. They’re likely not going to get much done today aside from settling back in and checking on Maggie and Nia’s friends, so they might as well quell their curiosity and take their time.

Tobias leads the three of them to the floor where the Seekers’ quarters are housed, then down the hall and to their room. Along the way, Nia tells Junie about where and who they need to visit while at the guild.

“Oh, you’ll love Maggie! She’s Tobias’ mom and she’s the sweetest person alive. And you’ll probably meet Fen and Sage during that visit, too. And I need to introduce you to Xander’s team! They’re a few years older than us, but they’re some of our best friends. And Andyn’s—"

Nia cuts herself off abruptly.

Tobias rolls his eyes, not even looking back to see his partner’s crestfallen expression. “If Andyn is still in a mood a week after our little tiff, that’s her problem. And don’t you dare go to apologize to her when it’s her fault for having such an awful attitude.”

“I-I know,” Nia says quietly. “But…I do miss her.”

“If you’re worried, you could always check in with the sensible members of her team.”

“Wait, hold up. What’s the drama here?” Junie asks, fluttering forward to perch on Tobias’ shoulder. “Who’s Andyn?”

“One of Nia’s friends. We did a joint mission with her team before we left and she was being an insecure little brat the whole time. She was still acting huffy when we left.”

“She was being a brat to Nia?” Junie asks, aghast. “Oh, she’d better be a bug type. I’m gonna peck some sense into her.”

“Junie, no!” Nia says.

Tobias smirks. “Grass type, actually. So you’re good. And I think her teammates might just cheer you on at this point.”

“Tobias!“ Nia says, louder.

Tobias and Junie ignore Nia’s protests from behind them on the staircase, the two of them instead making more and more ridiculous attack plans. Tobias knows Nia isn’t actually upset with them since he can hear the growing laughter in her voice with every protest. After Junie threatens to stalk Andyn around the guild and drop berries on her head in some kind of psychological warfare, Nia doesn’t even try to protest anymore as she giggles.

The teasing continues until they reach their room. Tobias opens the door, expecting their delivery to be something too large for the mailbox but still manageably small.

Instead, the three of them stop cold in the entryway of the room, staring at the supplies lumped together into a pile taller than them.

“What in the..?” Tobias says.

Nia gasps, pushing past them. “It’s a bed!”

“For real?!” Junie yells. She flutters forward to join Nia, eagerly knelt next to a bundle of…wooden posts?

Tobias frowns, joining them as well. “I thought you didn’t buy a bed from Hazel because it was too expensive.”

“Oh.” Nia pauses, blinking. “I didn’t.”

Junie brings their attention to a little note tied to one of the posts, plucking it free with her beak to hold out to Nia. Nia skims through it, and a peek reveals that it’s written in that strange scrawling script from Hazel’s last letter, completely illegible to him.

Nia’s expression softens. “It IS from Hazel. She says she wants to thank us for returning her ‘silly husband’ to her and her family in one piece. No charge.”

“Her husband?” Junie asks.

“Yeah! He’s super nice. I think he’s called a floatzel? We saved him and his crew from a mystery dungeon on the way back from Shivergleam.”

“No charge at all is pretty generous of her,” Tobias says, raising a brow.

“I know! I almost don’t want to accept.”

“Hey, don’t look for the hair in the soup and all that,” Junie says, hopping from one bundle of crisply cut, polished wood to another.

“Do you always have to make it yourself?” Tobias asks doubtfully. It looks…kind of complicated.

With a grin, Nia flips over the letter to show him the back, where more is written along with some little doodles to help illustrate. “Nope, but there are instructions! It doesn’t look too bad.”

Tobias still doesn’t get why the two of them are so excited. He’s having a hard time figuring out what this weird bed will even look like by the time they’re done. What’s wrong with a simple nest on the floor?

Junie must sense his doubt, because she hops over the wood and says, “You’ll understand soon, Toby. Come over here and feel this!”

Tobias rounds the pile of materials to find a giant rectangular…something? It looks thick but soft and it’s covered in cloth. It sparks a long-forgotten memory on the edge of his thoughts, of waking up somewhere impossibly soft after Team Zenith’s attack.

Oh. Maybe he has slept in a similar kind of bed before. He thinks the doctor in the village had one? Maybe there was a human living there that Tobias was unaware of at the time.

Trying not to look too intrigued, Tobias follows Junie’s order and sits down on the edge of what she calls a “mattress.” It feels like more of those springs might be inside, but it’s heavily padded by fabric and other stuffing, so he sinks comfortably a few inches before lightly bouncing back up.

Okay, maybe Tobias is starting to see why they’re so excited to sleep on this. He hesitates, knowing Junie will likely comment on it, but eventually decides to flop back onto it fully.

“Nice, right?” Junie asks, her smug expression audible. Tobias doesn’t give her the satisfaction of responding, instead closing his eyes.

…It is pretty comfortable.

Nia snickers, but thankfully doesn’t comment. The sound is followed by the clatter of wood and shuffling as Nia starts putting together whatever the rest of the supplies are for.

“Okay, looks like it’s just a peg system, so I don’t think we’ll need tools…”

“Should we grab food before you get lost in construction mode?” Junie pipes up, looking between them. “I’m starving.”

Nia is clearly reluctant to part with her new project, but Tobias is hungry too. They compromise, heading down to grab lunch and bringing it back to their room to eat.

Tobias and Junie dig in with relish, the little rookidee praising the cooking’s quality. Nia just takes bites of her meal here and there while organizing the materials and lining up pegs in their proper placement.

After he’s finished eating, Tobias peels himself from the mattress to help Nia hold the supplies in place, since her muttering has only gotten more frustrated in the last few minutes.

The two of them are only halfway through building what is apparently a frame to hold the mattress off the floor when a quiet tap tap comes from the doorway. They all turn to look, just as a familiar head pokes into the room.

Oh. That’s the second time this afternoon that Tobias has been thrown completely for a loop.

“Samir?!” Nia gasps, practically throwing down the materials in her paws to scramble up and greet the skiddo.

Samir looks just as they’d left them in Fort Asra, albeit a bit more unsure in this new environment. Their nerves visibly lessen in the face of Nia’s enthusiastic greeting, but the skiddo still holds themself stiffly as ever, legs locked and chin raised. Across their back, a satchel like the one Maggie wears when gathering herbs is draped over their spine.

So the mystery guest August had mentioned before is Samir. After hearing about the skiddo’s terrible partner back in Fort Asra, and Nia offering Samir a place in the Lexym Guild instead, Tobias can take a wild guess for why they’re here.

He’s just not quite sure how to feel about it.