#maybe ill discuss the origins one day

[d8tl55c]

can't believe i inflicted --|"/,'\_|-•/_' on this poor whiteboard

it's closed now but i had a lot of fun coming in late and messing around... complimenting people anonymously... being cryptic...

[ CC:

Dark (code): WOAH WOAH WOAH! hold on!

Second: ?????

Dark (code): before i die...

know this

...

gotcha

Chosen (code): STOP!

Chosen (code): you're going to waste so much time!!!*

Dark (code): THAT'S WHY IT'S FUNNY

Chosen (code): DAMN IT DARK ]

* --|"/,'\_|-•/_' is hard to translate quickly

[ CC:

Dark (code): *lol*

Chosen (reluctantly): *also lol* ]

it's an inside joke with myself that Dark and Chosen learned / made up / found my secret code, --|"/,'\_|-•/_' , and that's just how they talk now by default. either to mess with people, for privacy, or just that they didn't feel like learning other languages...

or...?

and then i stumbled upon @nesiclor's AvA:NO and one of(?!?! so many questions- i am excited to see where this goes! it's wicked cool thus far \o/) its languages (example from last July) and... ideas happened.

something about different types of stickfigures' code consisting of different proportions of --|"/,'\_|-•/_' ... with connections to '/|..'L'_'||-• '/-|L'-_[,- ... involving the unique dialects its original writers had ... many ideas!

a bit of hcs about the Internet/Desktop environment, a bit of biology, a bit of psychology, a little in and a little out of canon, etc. etc.

this all culminated in a jumble of notes fic exploring a scenario where when Second meets CG in AvA IV, they don't understand him at first: his speech sounds kind of like hard drive whirring and error beeps.

but then, pop! he acclimates to how the others are speaking. that's convenient. everyone forgets it ever happened. think that scene in WALL-E when EVE tries out a bunch of languages before finding one that works. or little kids working out how to talk to one another easily because they're so good at language acquisition...

...until the chosen one returns, you could say,

and huh y'know something about the sound he makes is familiar

[ CC:

Dark (code): LOL

Dark (code): look at this guy

Chosen (code): lmao

Second: ??? ]

aaaaand shenanigans ensue.

that's more of a small AU than a headcanon of mine though. and i probably won't even post that fic

it's mostly very dramatic, stream-of-consciousness bullet points

and why they're being friendly with post-ep.V Dark is another story entirely (long story short this time i just made it as a meme before thinking about ANY of this-)

but regardless

you'll probably see more |-•( |'['-L'[,- from me. ~

[artbyblastweave]

I saw a post a couple of days ago that said one of the most important things about Steven Universe, thematically, is that everybody in the core cast has done at least one completely morally unjustifiable thing, regardless of how likeable or sympathetic they are otherwise, and that this is important to understanding the show thematically. This is true. 

But it also reminded me of one other thing I really like about Steven Universe, which is that it’s the emotional-toxicity equivalent of all those posts about how cartoons have to come up with unimaginably worse forms of death and violence in the course of avoiding getting censored for depicting plausible forms of death and violence.  All of the ways in which SU characters cross those emotional and interpersonal lines are wrapped up either in their fantastic abilities or their bizarre life circumstances in a way that makes it all esoterically awful and often much more existentially horrifying than any of the real-life dynamics it’s alluding to. You’ve said nasty things to people in the heat of the moment but you’ve never shapeshifted into the guy’s dead wife to twist the knife a little more. No violation of bodily autonomy is ever gonna involve contriving a situation in which the other party will believe that it’s necessary to fuse with you, body and soul in order to do demolition work. The most toxic relationship in the world isn’t gonna involve imprisoning someone at the bottom of the ocean for several months and only emerging to participate in humanoid-sacrifice rituals. Your codependency will never last 8,000 years, be frontloaded with a faked death you’re biomechanically incapable of confessing to, and end with your partner’s suicide-by-childbirth. Your worst roommate situation will never end with one party stealing the apartment and taking it to the moon. Et al. Et al.

I don’t remember where I was going with this, precisely, (and I may have drifted sideways from the original discussion topic of crossed lines per se, but whatever.) I mean part of it’s funny because it exists in a series with tons of mundane, non-metaphorical examinations of interpersonal issues, like everything to do with Lars and Sadie, or Sour Cream and Marty. And there’s an extent to which I’m just describing how cartoons are written. But there’s something special about how Steven Universe does it. Something delightfully fucked up about it all. I think maybe part of it is that it’s a considered and embraced fucked-upedness, none of this is just an ill-considered fridge-logic by-product of something else they were trying to do. Like for every one of these, someone in the writers room probably went, “Man, this has some fucked up implications,” and then everyone would go, “Yeah!” and hi five and put it in specifically because of that. Great Show. Great show

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 18

Summary: You show Malleus your form, in exchange for being able to explore his. An equal exchange. You are a danger and a tempter in turn. Malleus could never hate you, no matter how much his body wished for him to run from you.

(I had a lot of fun with this. Please enjoy, my audience!!)

Whenever Malleus looks at you, he always feels as though he's looking at the empty part of the night sky.

You occupy space, and in his vision, you color the world as anyone else does. But when he recalls those moments, when he's just about to go to sleep and dream of older days, Malleus would always remember you, your presence, and the way your very being just seemed to sap the color away.

Perhaps there was something wrong with him, because, as he so heard from wayward whispers and Lilia himself, there wasn't a spark of magic in you. There was nothing in you that would affect his memory. Maybe it was simple boredom or some illness affecting him?

…the feeling didn't fade. He finally met you in the middle of the night, outside a dorm he thought long abandoned.

He felt you more than he saw you. When he went to that dorm, he felt that comforting silence, then it was… well, not ripped away but unveiled? As though one is gently taking off a table cloth to put away. It took some time for Malleus to figure it out to be your eyes. Your attention.

Did you know that people have this odd habit of being quieter at night? They whisper in the dark, lower their voices as though not wanting to disturb anyone, even though there is no one near. People, regardless of their origins, are the slight touch different at night, and Malleus is no exception. At night, he looks not towards people, but towards the wind, to the night sky above, and to the ruins to give him that solitary comfort that's simply deeper at night than during the day.

When he met you, your voice was clear. You were still in your uniform, and there wasn't a hint of grogginess that comes with staying up this late. You didn't look to ground to keep track of your steps despite all lack of light. You walked to him, not with confidence but with a casual gait. Almost lackadaisical, as though there was nothing in the world that can bring you harm, other than death by sheer boredom.

But when he talked to you, exchanged greetings with you with all the manners befitting of him, you had felt human. Before your first words, the strangeness of you almost made Malleus forget himself, he very nearly thought you to be another fae. All his instincts point to you being something other than human, but fae you were certainly not.

And so he had said, What are you? Because, by all means, you appear to me as nothing more than a human being. But, that's not quite correct, is it?

You are, and you aren't. But, if you need a definitive answer, then the answer is ultimately yes, I'm human. At least, for now.

Then, as though some missing piece finally slotted itself into place, Malleus felt small. The moon cast you a normal shadow, but something in Malleus told him that this was wrong. That there should be more, but there wasn't. You wouldn't elaborate further, and he wouldn't give out his name.

As such, he parted.

When he walked away, he couldn't find that lonely comfort again. Sleep did not come to him that night. No matter how he adjusted his curtains, the weight of your gaze simply didn't fade.

There was fear and there was reverence when people would whisper your name. It was a strange feeling for Malleus, certainly. To think that he would find you at the center of it all, when it would normally be him. Strange caution in his gut aside, Malleus never thought your reputation would elevate itself to something infamous within this college.

Oh course, what choice did he have other than to bring it up? A wondrous topic to discuss, no? And besides, while there was this itch settling in the back of his head, it was easy enough to ignore. After all, you are a new… companion. Not quite friend, but companion.

It seems you have many of these students on edge. Mind telling me your tales? If you have any to share, that is.

There wasn't a twitch to your face, your smile ever serene, ever stable. A rarely changing thing.

Should I tell you, or should I show you?

Oh my.

Perhaps it was simply the secret veil of night, or the weight of which you place in your tone, but there was a slight thrill that went up the back of his neck. It made his scalp tingle, even.

But, at the time, he said no. A part of him wasn't quite ready yet. And, quite frankly, he didn't wish to set himself up for disappointment. But, he will admit…

There was an overblot that I took care of. It seemed I scared quite the number of people. I save them, and I damned them in turn.

Your vagueness left him wanting more. But there is this unspoken deal you both have. So long as he refuses to give out his identity, you, in turn, will only give the barest of details. He cannot make demands of you, so long as this stands.

And so all he can do is dream and wait for the next night to come.

I find comfort in you, you know?

Another night, another series of topics, with mostly Malleus recounting a particular set of ruins with the most exquisite set of gargoyles he's ever seen. Highly likely enchanted by someone to weather the natural forces of nature. How could he not talk about the clear love put into them?

Words clogged his throat. Comfort. How… warm, that tone of yours was. How fond that smile of yours was. The constant weight of your gaze turned just the slightest bit lighter.

There was only a glimpse.

A cold had broke past the natural protections of his clothing and poisonous magic, and settled deep inside his marrow. His blood rushed through his body too loudly, and the colors surrounded his view dimmed, warped, and ripped.

There was the sound of broken glass, a hiss that shot through his head and left behind a horrid headache.

Malleus pushed on, because if nothing else, his magic is more than enough to take care of anything. It was his crown, his birthright.

There was only a glimpse, and that was enough for his vision to be cut in half. Night, from a pinprick, cut out part of your back. It followed a jagged path, expanding fast past the limits of your human body, consuming the space around you as though fungus upon wet wood.

It didn't matter that it was air, all it wanted to do was consume. Consume the air, consume your body, consume the sky, and consume the mirrors.

The sounds around him rushed to you, as though unable to resist your pull, leaving behind only the mess of static in his ears.

There was only you, pulsing in the vague shape of a human being, all in swirling colors, near nauseating colors.

Malleus blinked, and all was well. Everything had settled. The students slowly got up from the floor, nursing injuries and headaches alike, but happy to be alive. And you… were untouched. Clothes not so much as wrinkled.

And when it was over, when the conversations upon the stage of VDC had settled down, Malleus turned to you and said.

Show me. When night comes for us once more, show me.

You smiled and laughed.

Of course, Malleus Draconia.

"Come on," you chuckled against his skin, breathe brushing against the little hairs on his neck, standing them on end, "aren't you supposed to be royalty? Isn't patience something you ought to have?"

"Even you--" Malleus cut off with a hiss when you wrapped your tendrils tighter around the base of his tail, lovingly stroking the side scales with your palms. Firm, your tendrils are firm as they slide and take in every little crevice in his scales. Firm, and like fluid at the same time without leaving behind residue. "Even you have to understand that I have limits. Must I keep my eyes closed?"

Your touch practically sparks his skin, and his every instinct is warning him to open his eyes and spot the danger. The stiffness in his spine tells him he's about to fall and land on the ground. All while swimming in the vast muteness of his suppressed magic.

We can't have any accidents, now can we?

"You hear that fuzziness in your ears?" you traced his neck as white noise buzzed, both far away, yet blanketing him as though a bubble, "The way I sound as though I exist in all spaces, and the way I speak as though I'm coming from your heart? Don't open your eyes, Malleus. Otherwise, you might dissolve into me."

Dissolve, in the same way your back drew in all those colors, and mixed it into yourself, became a part of yourself for a small moment. Malleus wishes to see it, even though his body broke out in a sweat at what might happen.

"Is that," he swallowed, "such a horrible thing? Didn't you say you would show me?"

"Does showing mean you have to witness with your eyes?" A tendril wrapped over his ankle and slipped through the leg opening. You caressed the back of his knee, and Malleus's fingers broke through the wood of the wall behind him. "Careful there. I'm showing you, through all your other senses other than sight."

"Other senses?" Malleus managed to breathe out, "then… what of taste?"

You overwhelm his touch with electric touches, fill his smell with the scent of you, and play his hearing. What of taste? Will he regret this? Well, it doesn't matter. Malleus is curious and he has no intention of curbing it.

"Oh, aren't you a sweetheart?" Your voice was concentrated to a single point, right over his left ear. "Well then, lift your head up, dear prince."

There was an ever-shifting noise beneath the static, like flesh constantly adjusting itself, like blood flowing and popping it's large bubbles.

"How bold of you, making demands of me like this, knowing full well who I am." There was no hatred in his tone, only heated amusement. Malleus lifted his chin, and he almost curled into himself when you pressed your lips against his. You were gentle, almost painfully so as though you were guiding him. You had almost your entire being tied up around him, and you're kissing him as though he's nothing more than faint-hearted fae.

And that makes his fingers curl deeper into the wall of your dorm.

"How," that was close, Malleus's voice almost pitched. How unbecoming of someone such as him, "How cruel of you, to kiss me as though I'm fragile glass."

"Because I know that would affect you most. You know how I am." You chuckled against his lips, stroking his neck in such a way he had no choice but to relax back into them. "Again?" you asked.

He licked his dry lips and answered, "Again. This small taste isn't enough."

"Alright, be careful not to destroy my wall, alright?" you swiped a thumb over his lips, practically hearing the widening smile on your face.

"I'll be more care--" You silence him with the blissful magic of a kiss, tenderly moving against him, coaxing him to relax into a shivering pile of scales. You pulled back and Malleus was ashamed in how desperate he was when he chased after you. "Wait--"

You tilted his chin and stole his breathe once again, fingers slipping past his collar, tendrils wrapping up higher and higher until they're poking at the scales on his thighs. You trailed a hand over his shoulder, down his arm, and guided his fingers to lock with your own.

"Is this better?" You asked, pulling away from his surely reddened lips.

"Y-yes." Malleus tightly clung to your fingers.

[into-the-grey]

~I Can't Carry This Anymore~ ALT Version

Noah x F!Reader Fic

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. THIS ONE IS DARK.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, depression,mental illness, burnout, blood, and death. This one is SAD, you have been warned.

WC: 1.7k

Taglist: @wh0th3h3llisbucky @blend-in-with-the-madness

I came across an old story I wrote for an assignment in a writing course, and it gave me this idea. I apologise in advance, this one is VERY trigger warning heavy, please, if you're not able to handle this one, don't force yourself through it. While I may not shy away from these topics, please do NOT try to handle it if you aren't able to.

I have also posted the original edition, which is also possibly triggering, but doesn't contain suicide material, but does contain talk of school shootings. You can read that one here if you feel safe to do so.

I acknowledge the sensitive nature of some of the topics discussed in this duo of stories, and please don't think I'm glorifying them or encouraging them. If anything, I beg of you, if you don't think you can handle these triggers, or your mental state is fragile in any way, PLEASE give these ones a miss and go read something fluffy. (yes I'm putting this on both.)

I know I'm probably being dramatic, it's probably nowhere near as graphic as I think, but the internet is a different place than it was when I was 14 and I just don't want anyone to suffer because I'm an idiot that enjoys writing about heavy shit.

The room was quiet, the lights off and the world outside was dim. Rain pattered softly on the window, the gauzy grey curtains masking the little light that peered through, casting shadows over your desk. 

You sat at your desk, staring at the floor. It had been a while since your mind worked the way you wanted it to. Everything seemed to blur together, and you could hardly focus on the things you wanted to. It didn't matter how hard you tried, it was like words swam on the page when you tried to read, and everything outside your home felt dangerous. You felt unwelcome, so you stayed in your room.

The only interruption to your unending solitude was him. Noah. He would come and visit you sometimes, and he would talk to you for hours.

Today was one of those days. You knew it would be, but you weren't sure why. You just felt it in the air.

You heard his slow footsteps trudging up the stairs in the late afternoon. He had probably come from the studio, or maybe he'd been writing at home. You were never sure, but he came. That's what mattered. 

He entered your room silently, closing the door and sitting on your bed. He sat silently for a moment, looking around the space. You gave him his time, letting him find what he wanted to say. You could see in his tense shoulders that it had been a hard day for him too.

'Fuck today has been rough,' he said quietly, confirming your suspicions as he picked at his fingernails. 

'Do you want to talk about it?' You asked him gently, watching him as he swallowed hard. He chewed his lip for a moment, thinking through all the messy thoughts in his mind.

If there was anything you loved about Noah, it was that you could confide in him, and he confided in you. You would bear each other's misery when you needed to, helping each other get back to the good days.

'It's just been a lot to deal with, y'know? There's a lot of pressure from the label, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for the next steps yet. I don't feel like I've had enough time. I feel lost, like everything is so muddled, and I don't know how to straighten it all out.'

You nodded, understanding him perfectly. You had felt the same, drowning in the sea of obligations and the weight of your life pulling you under. 

'If you need more time, tell them. They can't push you to do anything yet, can they?' You said, turning on your chair to face him properly.

He took a shaky breath, glancing in your direction.

'I want to say something to them, to tell them, but how do I know they'll understand?' he huffed softly, his eyes lowering to his hands again, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his black hoodie. 'The guys get it, they're supportive, but the label... Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but this... it's a lot to process...'

'I know baby, I'm sorry,' you sighed. 'At least you have the guys. You're not alone in this, they can help you advocate for yourself.'

'They try to advocate for me, but they're still reeling too.' He sniffed hard, tears coming to his eyes. 'Everything just stopped, and it was out of nowhere. Sure, I guess we should have seen it coming, I'm sure it was building up for a long time, but we just... we didn't. I hate that we didn't see it, we could have done something, and we wouldn't have to do this. I feel like it's my fault.'

'Noah, baby, this is not your fault-'

'I know it's not, but I can't shake the feeling. I feel like I should have tried harder. It's been months of this, and I can't stop feeling this way.'

His shoulders shook as he breathed, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. He couldn't seem to meet your eye. You could feel the heaviness of his shame radiating off of him, and it broke your heart.

'Noah, it'll be alright, I promise,' you told him, standing from your seat and standing awkwardly by him. 

'One day it'll be better, I just wish I knew when,' he whispered.

You knelt down in front of him, searching his eyes in the low light. They glistened with heavy tears that started to trickle down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, unable to look at you. The guilt made his lip tremble, locking his fingers together tightly.

'So do I,' you told him, reaching for his hands. He stood, leaving your fingers hanging in mid-air as he crossed the room to look out the window.

'I haven't been able to sleep. The things people say, it's all I can hear...' He thumbed over a figurine on the windowsill, the porcelain cat cold beneath his fingers. 

'Don't listen to them. You don't owe them anything, not your time, not your energy. You need to focus on you, baby.' 

You stood, taking his place on the bed and watching him as he traced raindrops that ran down the window. You could see a hint of his reflection on the glass, catching the sad smile on his lips as stared out the foggy glass. 

'Do you remember when we were kids? How we used to be outside in weather like this, jumping in puddles and slinging mud at each other until your mom had to hose us off?' he asked with a melancholy chuckle.

'I do,' you nodded. 'I remember when we tried to build a sand-castle out of mud, and it just kept collapsing. You were so determined to make it work.'

'Things were so much easier back then. So much simpler, no deadlines, no commitments, no gossip or rumours. I miss those days.' He huffed a laugh to himself, tears still dribbling down his cheeks.

'I know. I wish things could still be like that.'

He nodded, turning around and looking over the room. You watched as his eyes took in every picture, every painting, every memory that gilded the walls. You followed his gaze, feeling tears pricking your eyes as you saw his smiling face in so many of the photo frames.

He seemed to focus on the same one you did. Your favourite picture, the two of you bundled up in thick jackets and huge gloves, you with a beaming smile and him with all the love in the world in his eyes as he looked at you. His long hair blew around his face as he grinned at you, the camera in his hand as he took the selfie. You had never seen snow like that before, but he wanted to show you.

You were so young, so stupid, and so in love.

'I wish I'd told you that day that I loved you,' he breathed. 'I wish I hadn't waited.'

'I knew, love,' you told him, glancing back at him. He stood with his arms crossed, trying to look casual, but you knew he was desperately trying to hold himself together while he longed for better times.

'I know you knew, but I still wish I'd said it. We could have had so much more time together...'

'We were still together, Noah, we were still as close as ever.'

'It wasn't enough.'

You watched the memories dance across his mind, seeing him process every single one. The good days, the bad days, the worst days.

Noah let himself slide down the wall in front of the window, looking at the floor. If he looked hard enough, he was sure he could still see it. The remnants of the worst memory.

'I'm sorry you had to see me like that, Noah,' you said quietly, knowing exactly where his mind was. 'I don't know what I was thinking.'

'I know exactly what you were thinking,' he sighed. 'You felt as alone as I do right now, and that was my fault. I should have been here for you. Everything went so wrong, so fast, and I wasn't there for you.'

'You were busy, love. Your career was taking off, you had so much to do, I couldn't put all of my shit on you. It wasn't fair to expect you to carry my load when you already had the world on your shoulders.'

'I don't care, I should have been there,' he coughed, clearing his throat. 

'I wish you weren't...' 

Your admission hung in the air, falling on his deaf ears. He sat silently for a little while, just listening to the sound of the rain on the glass. You knew he was picturing it, seeing how you struggled to breathe, how you had detroyed the rug with your blood, how you were so pale...

The rug was long gone, but the memories would always remain.

He finally stood, and you mirrored his movements, following him to the door.

'I have to go, we have another dinner meeting tonight, but I'll be back,' he promised, his hand on the doorknob.

'I'll be here,' you told him, resting your hand on his shoulder. He looked back at you, his lips pulling into a tight smile as the tears fell faster. His hand raised, touching his fingers to yours on his skin. The sob he choked back broke his heart, seeing his lip curl back over his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

'I love you,' he told you, his voice wavering. 'I love you so fucking much, and I miss you every single day.'

You wished he could feel you as you wrapped your arms around him, your cheek resting between his shoulders and holding him together as best you could.

'I love you,' you told him, praying that he could hear you, 'and I'm always with you. I'm so fucking sorry, Noah.'

He pulled himself together as best he could, but your family was used to seeing him leave in tears. He opened the door, and he stepped from your grip, turning and looking back into the empty room you were trapped in.

For just a moment, his eyes met yours. You could have sworn that he could finally see you, just for a second. His trembling hand raised, reaching towards your face as he blinked through his tears.

'I love you,' he whispered again.

'I love you,' you whispered back.

His hand dropped back to his side, and he stepped away, closing the door behind him.

You sat back on your bed, staring hard at the floor as you listened to his footsteps trudge away, your heart breaking in your empty chest. Regret had never been so heavy.

Death didn't solve a thing. So why did you do it?

Why did you kill yourself?

[sirenjose]

Orpheus' 2nd Character Day Letter

If the purpose of the loan had to do with a clinic and hospital, that implies the loan was likely due to someone being ill or injured. For the wealthy obviously implies who the borrower was.

Considering this is Orpheus' letter, and we know the DeRoss couple was "wealthy" (based on the original Oletus Manor backstory, comments Alice makes, Burke and Bonbon's deductions, and Orpheus' tale, especially with how the massacre to some extent had to do with greed), the DeRoss couple were likely the borrowers. That and it specifically has the context of the time of the "incident" based on the Oletus Family massacre. This matches with the Borrower (likely Dennis, especially as the line about the borrower uses the word "him") being deceased, and his family also being deceased (his wife) or missing (Alice).

If Dennis was the borrower, it seems likely he acquired the loan for someone in his family, meaning the purpose of the loan was 1 of them. In Time of Reunion, 1 of the lines Orpheus hears talks about the mother's (Dennis' wife and Alice's mother) condition worsening. Ergo, she was who the loan was for.

This lines up with a page from the artbook, which actually discusses Dennis' wife's affliction:

Dear ◼︎︎

Your wife's lung cancer is getting worse again and you need to implement more advanced treatment.

Unless you pay for her medical care as soon as possible, we cannot do anything for her.

◼︎︎ Doctor, 1887

Then there's the question of the lender. Based on the mention of "advanced treatment", it's likely the loan was quite large and thus the lender must've been similarly wealthy, especially if even someone of the DeRoss couple's wealth couldn't afford it. Of course, someone we know that is wealthy and has ties to the DeRoss couple, my first thought is the Barriere family.

First to mind is Count Barriere, who we know is very wealthy, is tied to shady happenings, had a signature on the same page as Dennis, and we know he gives out loans based on the IOU owned by someone with the signature "D" that he wants Lily to reclaim. It's not guaranteed to be him though, not to mention the IOU Lily is after is still to be paid and is tied to "Mediterranean Development" and a copy of Orfeo, while the loan in this letter was "repaid 2 weeks after the tragedy".

We know it can't be Lily's father, Reger, but Reger was said to only be the 2nd son. So it's possible maybe the 1st son gave out this loan. The only reference to a Barriere that isn't confirmed to be Count Barriere is from Freddy's 4th letter, which references a "Keogh & Barriere law office". Though it may feel a bit odd if the co-partner for the law office referenced here is the one that has been imprisoned for so long. It's possible the 1st son isn't related to this law office, but he still could have given the loan.

Though it'd also be curious if the 1st son was tied to this law office and the lender for this loan considering Freddy, a financial advisor, in that case would be connected via both his 4th letter and his mention in Orpheus' 2nd letter.

There's also how Freddy's background mentions a "failed lawsuit" in his past. If Freddy is his the lender's lawyer, I wonder if this could be the "failed lawsuit" from Freddy's past (especially if it happened at least 5 years ago). He should still be his lawyer even if Freddy lost the lawsuit and couldn't prevent his client from being imprisoned. And if his client were a Barriere, maybe that could tie at least somewhat to why after this failed lawsuit Freddy's life seemed to decline after, based on after that case Freddy was said to be "toiling away at a menial job with a pathetic wage". With someone as high up as the Barriere family, it's possible he could've suffered some sort of punishment or something for being unable to prevent him from being imprisoned.

This is just a bunch of my current thoughts, so who knows what's right.

I do find it curious the loan was paid 2 weeks after the tragedy. I wonder if either someone paid it off for Dennis, or if maybe the manor was seized and used to pay it off, and thus potentially how it could then be bought by Manus, and then later bought by Orpheus.

As for the loan being signed 6 months before the massacre, I do admit I wonder if it's possible it is connected somehow someway to why the massacre happened at all (which I still wonder if Barriere helped cause).

Though if Dennis was wealthy, was he just having trouble paying for his wife's treatment because it was a very expensive treatment, or I wonder if people stealing from his manor (based on Bonbon's deduction 4 that implies Orpheus's parents, maybe helped by Orpheus himself or not, were taking "valuable items" from the manor due to their greed) was causing Dennis enough trouble that he was forced to ask for a loan rather than be able to pay himself. If so, I wonder if that was on purpose to pressure Dennis (to what end, I don't know. Why was it important for all of this to happen if so?), but maybe I'm thinking too hard again.

(Doing this at all because I enjoyed having an actually interesting letter for once, compared to what we're getting for people's 5th character days, enough to talk again. Will see how I continue to feel. Still taking it easy)

[mandos-mind-trick]

Stella

Summary: You never thought it would happen. It wasn't supposed to, but it did. You're on the run from the Empire, pregnant with Crosshair's child. Feelings come to light and you get the chance to live your dream life both with the man you love, and your child's father.

Pairing: Hunter x reader, previous Crosshair x reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, brief discussions of abortion, mentions of a casual relationship, lots of discussion of pregnancy related stuff, lots of feelings, repressed feelings, description of labor but nothing graphic, may cause baby fever, brief mention of PTSD, major AU, kind of a crappy ending.

A/N: This was originally a very early version of how Midnight was gonna play out and I decided to change it and make it it's own story. I was going to post this for Father's Day but I just couldn't get a good feel for it that day and so I'm posting it a few days late. I'd also like to say I've never given birth, I based most of this off of what I learned going through my landlords pregnancy while she still lived with us.

Part 2 here

MASTERLIST

It comes out of nowhere. 

The nausea, the uncontrollable vomiting. The smells. You know they don’t smell good. Getting them to shower is like trying to brush a tooka. You had quickly grown accustomed to the sweaty man stench that permeated the air in the ship, only noticing it when it got exceedingly bad. 

Now it’s almost unbearable. 

You groan, pressing your head back into the wall behind you. Every little movement of the ship is sending your stomach rolling, but there’s nothing left in it to puke back up. You’re exhausted, but the thought of sleep is so far from your mind. 

“Are you...alright?” The gentle hand on your shoulder is almost too much. 

Sweet, sweet Hunter always looking out for you. 

“Don’t feel good.” You murmur, your words almost a slur in an attempt to move as little as possible. The last thing you need is to puke again. 

He moves away from you, speaking quietly with someone. You crack your eyes open as the presence returns, this one a little different. You jerk back as a datapad is thrust in your face, your hand weakly batting at Tech’s arm. 

“Body temperature is normal.” He says, moving the datapad down as he scans your body. “No sign of any respiratory distress either.” He lowers the datapad as you smack his arm again. 

“‘M fine.” You murmur, curling up in a ball. “Nauseous.” 

“Yes, it’s likely just a stomach ailment.” Tech says, moving to stand. “Bacteria related, from either food or contaminated water.” 

“But we eat the same food.” Wrecker says, listening in on the conversation. 

“Yes, but we were designed to be resistant to most common illnesses that nat-borns can be ailed with. They pass through us with hardly any symptoms.” Tech says. 

“Lucky you.” You murmur, leaning your head against the wall. It’s cold and feels nice against your skin. 

“She’ll be fine in a day.” Tech says, unconcerned as always. 

***

You are not fine. 

Your stomach had settled a bit later that day, enough to eat a ration bar and chug some water. You’d gotten some sleep, at least for a few hours. 

Then you’d puked through the landing on Ord Mantell. 

You drag your feet as you follow the guys to Cid’s, exhausted from the constant sickness. You lean against the bar, considering downing a bottle to either knock you out or at least give you an excuse to be puking your guts out. 

“I want you to stay here.” Hunter says, pulling you aside. “No offense, but you’re not exactly in the best shape.” 

You nod. “No complaints. I don’t think I’d want to go anyway.” 

“Omega is staying too.” He says. 

“Oh good. Maybe she can kick some ass at dejarik again.” You jest. 

A smile pulls at Hunter’s mouth. You’re still making jokes which is a good sign. “Keep an eye on her.” 

You wave your hand. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You slump over towards one of the booths, stretching out on it. 

Your eyes snap open as something hits the table in front of you. You look up blearily, seeing a cup sitting there. “What is that?” You slur, pushing yourself to sit up. 

“Water.” Cid says. “The kid says you need it.” 

“Thanks.” You murmur, shocked she’s not charging you for it. 

“What’s the matter with you anyway, sassy?” Cid asks. 

“Been sick to my stomach the last couple days.” You say, taking a sip of the water. It’s room temperature, likely from the tap, but it’s still water. “Tech said it's probably some bacteria. Something I ate.” 

“You sure you’re not pregnant?” 

You sit up a little straighter, the fog clearing. You stare at Cid, wide eyed. “What?” 

Cid shrugs. “I just figured, cute thing like you cooped up on a ship with a bunch of men...” She begins walking away. “They’re a bunch of fools if they haven’t even tried.” 

They have.

Successfully.

It started because you hated each other. Crosshair pushed your buttons more than anyone you’d ever met. He enjoyed it, pushing you to the point you were seeing red. He rarely ever saw consequences, Hunter stepping in before you could break his teeth or rearrange his face. 

You hated him. He was rude, crass, and downright mean to you for literally no reason other than things that were out of your control. You hadn’t chosen to be added to their squad. In fact, you would have preferred literally anything else. They weren’t unkind, well, most of them weren’t, you just weren’t happy about being cooped up in a far too small space with four, eventually five, men. 

Something shifted after you quite literally saved their asses. The 100% success rate would have been broken had you not been there to save the day. 

That was the first time you and Crosshair fucked. 

He had been seething, more so at his own failure and you having to be the one that saved the day, than anything else. You had wound up pinned to the fresher wall, his hips slamming into yours as his teeth drew blood on your neck and shoulders and his fingers left bruises on your hips. 

It became something after that. 

Hate fucking turned into just fucking which turned into...something. 

You wouldn’t call it love, at least not to him. You’re not sure he’s capable of that much. Lust, perhaps, was a better word. 

You fucked after every mission. Even between missions. You fucked in the fresher, in the bunks, even once in his bunk on Kamino. 

You felt bad for Hunter, but he never complained. 

He’d been the one to hold you while you cried endlessly about Crosshair’s betrayal. When you’d shut down, going through the basic emotions because a switch had been flipped in Crosshair and he’d turned into someone else. Someone who didn’t care. 

You’re still not over it, but at least you can ignore the pain now. 

Or, you thought you could. 

It couldn’t be possible. You both had implants. It was supposed to be impossible. 

It would have been...right before Kaller. 

That only makes it so much worse. 

****

Your hands are shaking as you make your way down the street. You had left Omega with Cid, not telling her where you were going, but she probably knew. You hadn’t even thought it could be a possibility. The symptoms checked out, though. The nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to stimuli. All the stereotypical signs you knew of. 

You hope to the Maker it’s some sort of bacteria, some foreign parasite slowly eating your insides. 

The clinic isn’t difficult to find. It’s tucked away in a corner, inconspicuous, unless you’re looking for it. You had considered going to the medical center, but you couldn’t trust they wouldn’t report you to the Empire. You had to be on some sort of wanted list now. 

So you had sought out a rather sketchy private clinic, paying upfront. You’re led back into a small room with old medical equipment. You take a seat on the table, anxiously awaiting the doctor’s arrival. 

An older woman steps into the room, giving you a quick once over. You probably look like most of her clientele. Young, desperate, nervous. You tell her why you’re there, the symptoms you’ve been experiencing. She instructs you to lay on the table, doing a quick scan head to toe. You stare at the screen, watching the results pop up. 

“There.” She points at a small dot in your uterus. “There’s a fetus, all right.” 

She zooms in, showing the small, deformed looking thing that could barely be described as human-like. Tears blur your vision for a moment and you hastily blink them back. 

“But...but how? We both have the...the implant.” You ask. 

“Implants are only 99% effective.” She answers. “They work most of the time, but then there’s still that 1%. If the conditions are right, viable pregnancy is still possible.” She studies the scan. “I’d say you’re about 8 weeks in. Still well within the realm of a safe termination, if that’s what you want.” 

You should. You can’t raise a child. Even if circumstances were different, you’re by no means capable of taking care of another human being. But...this is Crosshair’s baby. This may be the only part of him you ever get to see again. Can you really throw him away so easily like this? 

“I...I don’t know.” You whisper, staring at the screen still. 

“Well, I’ll remove your implant while you decide. Keeping it in any longer runs the risk of harm to the fetus. Replacing it will be easy.” You barely feel it, the quick cut and pull and then the cold bacta spray. You’ve gone numb. “Think on it.” She says, patting your shoulder. “Come back if you decide.” 

You walk out of the clinic in a daze. You’re not sure where you’re going, the world around you spinning. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant with Crosshair’s baby. There’s a baby inside you. You feel like you may be sick. 

***

You’re not sure where you are. You’ve been wandering. You’re not even sure how long. You’re half dazed and lost. Even if you had been in your right mind, you’re not sure you could have found your way back now. You should stop, you should sit down, find a map, anyone that can point you where to go. 

You can’t stop walking. 

If you stop moving, you’ll have to feel. 

You don’t want to feel. 

You nearly walk straight into someone’s chest, a strong hand grips your arm to keep you standing. Your name is being called, drawing you from your dazed state. You look up, meeting a familiar pair of brown eyes. 

“Echo.” You say, blinking in surprise. 

It must be far later than you thought. 

“I’ve located her.” He says into his comm, looking you over. “She appears unhurt.” He holds you at arm length again, staring down at you. “What could you possibly be doing clear across town?” 

“I’m...what?” You look around. You don’t recognize anything. 

He pulls you slightly closer, looking at your eyes, checking your head. “No head injury that I can see. Cid said you left on an errand. You’ve been gone for hours.” 

“Oh.” Is all you can say. 

“Hunter is not pleased.” 

The words bring tears to your eyes. Of course he’s not. You’re in for a brutal reprimanding when you return. You’re not sure you can handle it. You don’t have much of a choice as Tech all but pulls you along behind him in the streets, leading you back towards the spaceport. 

At least Cid wouldn’t have to bear witness to your reprimanding. 

You’re already in tears by the time you’re climbing the steps to the Marauder, the others already back. Hunter turns on you as soon as you enter, his face stern and eyes practically blazing. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” He snaps, stomping towards you. “Running off alone like that, wandering around the city unprotected. You put all of us at risk being that careless!” 

“Hunter,” Echo warns, taking a step closer to the angry clone, but Hunter ignores him. 

“You can’t keep making these stupid mistakes. What if you had been seen? What if something had happened? You left Omega alone, wandered off somewhere doing what? What was so important that you selfishly put all of us at risk?” 

You can’t help it. You deserve the reprimanding for being so careless, but you still can’t help it. The tears come, flooding down your cheeks and dripping onto the floor of the Marauder. A sob tears from your lips, your body folding in on itself as you cry. 

Hunter and the others blink in surprise. You never cry. Not all the times you’d been injured, not when you watched the regs shoot General Billaba, not when Crosshair had betrayed all of you. You wanted to. You desperately wanted to cry over Crosshair, over losing everything, but you hadn’t. 

Now everything comes out at once. 

“I’m pregnant.” You sob, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping it might stop the tears. It doesn’t. They still keep falling. 

The Marauder is still in stunned silence. Your legs threaten to give out, Tech guiding you into one of the seats. You bury your face in your hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. 

Echo puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, kneeling down next to you. “It’s Crosshair’s, isn’t it?” 

You nod, inhaling shakily. “Eight weeks. Right before Kaller.” 

“But you both have implants.” Echo says. “That should be impossible.” 

“Technically the implants are only 99% effective. Though the chance is small, there’s still a chance of pregnancy even with both parties being protected.” Tech says. “We’ll need to remove the implant if you intend on seeing the pregnancy through.” 

“Are you going to keep it?” Echo asks. 

“I don’t know.” You sigh. “I shouldn’t. I can’t raise a baby in this. It’s too dangerous. The Empire and bounty hunters chasing us, the dangerous missions we’re being sent on. We live on a ship that’s too small for us already, I can’t have a baby in here. I shouldn’t.” 

“But...it’s Crosshair’s.” Echo says, voicing the unspoken.

You curl in on yourself again, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure you’re ready to let Crosshair go yet. 

“I think you should take some time. Consider your options.” Echo says. 

“We don’t have time.” You croak. “I can’t go on missions like this.” 

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” Hunter finally says. “I think we all need to get some sleep.” 

He at least has the heart to look guilty. 

***

You can’t sleep. 

You had ensured them you were fine on the floor still, at least for now. You knew you weren’t going to sleep, so the thought of taking one of their spots is too much. You’re not sure what you’re going to do. You don’t want to terminate the pregnancy, but you may not have a choice. You can always leave, go off on your own. You don’t want to, though. The boys are like family now. 

You rise from the floor, heading towards the front of the ship. Hunter is in the cockpit, having stayed up to keep watch. You’re still in the dock on Ord Mantell, and the ship is locked and secured, but still he insisted on staying up. 

You sit in the pilot’s seat, not bothering to announce yourself. He knows. He probably knew you weren’t sleeping. 

It’s quiet between you two for a few moments. You’re both staring out the viewport, refusing to look at each other. 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” He finally says, glancing at you. “I had no idea.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” You say. “Cid was the one that suggested it. When I told her I was sick she immediately asked if I was pregnant. I had to know. I went to some backdoor clinic. Somewhere that wouldn’t ask questions.” 

“Do you want to keep it?” He asks. 

“It’s a baby, Hunter.” You chastise. Over the last few hours, you’d been thinking more and more about the fact there’s an actual human growing inside of you.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

You finally look at him, meeting his gaze. It's the serious look you recognize, the look of a Sergeant worried about one of the soldiers under his command. But there's something deeper. Something more under that gaze. 

"The smart thing is to terminate. You know that and I know that." You say. "Before the war, I never thought about having children. I never considered it. I never wanted it. But then Omega came into our lives and...I started to think maybe I do want a family. Maybe I do want children." You look back out the viewport. "I don't want to keep the baby just because of Crosshair. That wouldn't be fair." You shake your head. "The war's over. If the situation had been different, I would have gone back to my life and had to decide what comes next. Maybe...maybe I want to settle down. Maybe I want kids and a house and a boring job. I don’t want to leave, but...Hunter I’m tired.” You turn to look at him again. 

“I know.” He says. The look is still there in his eyes. He knows. He knows better than any of them. “It’s your decision. Whatever you decide to do, you know we’ll support you completely. I think you’ll make a great mother.” 

You smile, leaning your head back against the seat. “Thanks. In my daydreams about my life, I’m not a single mother, but I guess some things don’t happen in the order you expect them to.” 

“Crosshair isn’t the...paternal type.” Hunter says. “Even if he knew...” 

You shake your head. “Crosshair wasn’t ever part of those daydreams.” He looks at you in surprise, but your gaze is out the viewport again. “I know he didn’t love me. I don’t even think he liked me. We fucked because it was easy. Stress relief. I...I don’t think I loved him either. He...He was rough. He hurt me sometimes, but I never said anything. I know he needed it, and it was easy to pretend with him.” You lift one of your legs, resting your heel on the edge of the seat. “I...I liked someone else when I first joined. But they were unattainable, and Crosshair just...jumped right in. I don’t regret it. I knew it would end when the war did. I just never thought I’d be here.” 

“I don’t think any of us did.” Hunter says. “None of us could have guessed what was going to happen two months ago. I never knew how you felt about Crosshair. I thought...maybe he was the one you liked. I could hear your heart rate pick up, the way your breathing quickened, I could smell the sweat, see and hear every little nervous twitch and shift. I thought it was about him. I tried not to let it bother me. I shouldn’t have...I would have been decommissioned if anyone just heard my thoughts.” 

You turn the seat, staring at him wide eyed. Your heart is pounding harder than it was a moment ago. “Hunter...” 

“I was in love with you from the first time we met. You already knew our names, knew all about us. You...cared. Kriff, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to confess, but I knew it was a risk. Then Crosshair...I had to accept that you didn’t feel the same way.” 

Tears pool in your eyes once more as you stare at him. Had he felt the same way? Had he been willing all this time, even after you had fallen in bed with Crosshair to forget? 

Hunter moves from the copilot seat, kneeling in front of you. “I’ll find us a place, somewhere safe to settle down. Someplace you can have your house and your family and Omega can be a kid. Just tell me that I’m the one in that daydream.” 

A tear slides down your cheek as you stare at him. “You can be.” 

He cups your face, brushing the tear from your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod, closing your eyes as he leans in. The kiss is soft, hesitant but you can feel the emotion behind it. All those times he’d had to lay there, all those times he’d been forced to listen to you and Crosshair and he never said anything. 

He wraps his arms around you, tugging you onto the edge of the seat. You feel tears prick your eyes once more. He shushes you, pressing small kisses against your lips. 

“Hunter.” You quietly sob, trying to pull away. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” He says, pulling you against his chest. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but I thought you were happy and that’s all I ever wanted. I could live with it, so long as you were happy.” 

You cling to him tighter, clutching onto the edges of his armor. You hate crying. You hate it, but you can’t stop. “Stupid pregnancy hormones.” You cry. “I hate this.” 

“It’s alright.” He says, rubbing your back. “We’ll get through this.” 

His words don’t help, only making you cry harder. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the whole galaxy, cyare.” He says, kissing the side of your head. “While I can’t give all that to you, I’ll give you what I can.” 

***

You don’t get your chance to find your new home right away. 

Instead you find yourselves back on Kamino. You had avoided all of the action, Hunter refusing to allow you to join them. 

You stand on the landing platform, staring at Crosshair. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him. The last time, he’d been so willing to kill you for the Empire. You also hadn’t known at that time that you were pregnant. 

You walk up to him, staring hard at him. He glares at you, not unusual for him. He was being stubborn, determined not to come with you despite the Empire having just tried to kill all of you. You know they don’t care. However loyal he is, he’ll never be anything but expendable to them, just like to the Republic. 

“Crosshair,” You hate the way your voice wavers. “I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant and it’s yours.” 

His glare hardens, staring hard at you. He knows you’re not lying, at least about being pregnant. You’re beginning to show, hardly more than a small bump but it’s very noticeable that it hadn’t been there before. 

“You deserve to know that what happened between us was nothing more than physical.” You continue. “I never really had true feelings for you. I don’t expect you to be with me. I don’t expect you to even be a parent to this child, but they deserve to have you in their life, and you deserve to be in theirs. So march your ass over there and get on that ship.” You point behind you at the ship. 

He narrows his eyes at you. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“Don’t be a prick, you know damn well that the Empire doesn’t care about you. You’re expendable to them, just like you were to the Republic.” You curse the tears gathering in your eyes. “Your brothers love you, Crosshair. Yes, they left and I can attest to the fact they regret it. Get your ass on that ship now before I have Wrecker come out here and drag you on board.” 

He continues to glare at you for a moment before his shoulders sag a bit. You know you’ve gotten to him, but you don’t back down, even as he walks past you. He climbs the steps to the ship slowly, passing Hunter as he goes. Hunter puts a hand on your back, and you feel a bit of a weight come off your shoulders. Crosshair’s back and safe, and you’re all dead in the Empire’s eyes. 

***

You put a hand on your stomach, breathing for a moment. The pressure is getting worse, something you can no longer ignore. You push yourself to stand, making your way towards the fresher. 

“Again?” Crosshair asks as you pass the couch. 

“Well, if your child would stop kicking me in the bladder, I wouldn’t have to go so much.” You snap, though you’re not so much angry as annoyed. 

It’s been nine months since that fateful day before Kaller, nine months since your lives had changed and fallen apart. You’ve been working hard to piece your lives back together slowly. It will never go back to being the same, and you all know that. 

Finding this planet has been a lifesaver. Far off the beaten track, filled with nothing but farmlands, it hadn’t been hard to decide this was your new home. You had found an abandoned, worn down place and fixed it up, making it your own. Tech had built more than enough rooms, but they had quickly realized sleeping alone was a lot harder when you’d had someone around you your entire life. 

Wrecker had quickly moved into Tech’s room, both of them usually keeping different sleep schedules, and Tech usually passed out hard enough Wrecker’s snoring didn’t bother him. Crosshair had moved into Echo’s room silently, both of them still plagued by nightmares. Omega was the only one thrilled to have her own room, and a real bed. 

Of course, you and Hunter had taken the largest room, which had quickly become stuffed with things for the baby. 

You knew the change had been a bit jarring for Crosshair. Even if he hadn’t felt much of anything for you, you hadn’t missed the jealousy that had crossed his face whenever you and Hunter were close. He never said anything, he never acted on anything, just silently brooding as he usually did. 

Things changed when you’d held him one night, his head in your lap, fingers laced with his as he shivered through another nightmare. Something shifted between you two, an understanding. Even though you weren’t involved physically with each other any more, he was still the father of your child. You still cared for him and wanted him around. 

You were in love with Hunter, but you still cared about Crosshair. 

It had come so easily, the love and affection between you and Hunter. He loved your unborn child like she was his, even if she was technically his brother’s baby. Tech had proudly jumped in, correcting you that since they were clones, technically the baby could genetically be all of theirs. Of course, with Crosshair’s enhancements, it was uncertain how much they would affect the baby, how much of those enhancements would pass on to offspring. 

That only made you worry, and it often kept you up at night. Would something like their accelerated growth pass on? It was hard enough coming to terms that you would likely outlive all of them. You can’t stand the thought of outliving your children too. 

You sink down on the couch next to Crosshair after finishing in the fresher. He passes a sideways glance at you before going back to whatever he was doing on his datapad. You let out a sigh, stretching your legs out. Your feet and ankles are swollen, something you’ve come to terms with. They’re always swollen, always aching. Something’s always hurting. 

Being pregnant certainly had its ups and downs. Did you regret it? No, but you couldn’t wait for it to be over. Of course, once it was over, there was an entirely new battle to face. You’d have a newborn baby, another human entirely reliant on you to care for them. That idea scared you more than actual childbirth. 

You lean your head back, relaxing on the couch in the quiet of the house. Wrecker, Tech, and Echo were in the barn working on some upgrades before the harvest season. Hunter had gone into town to pick up Omega from a friend’s house. It was just you and Crosshair, both of you happy to sit in silence. 

You’re nearly asleep when the door opens, Omega and Hunter coming in. Omega is talking about something animatedly, Hunter only halfway listening.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up then you can help start dinner.” He says, steering her down the hallway. He bends down, kissing the top of your head. “Feeling alright, cyare?” He murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch. 

You open your eyes, smiling up at him. “Yeah. But if I have to visit the ‘fresher one more time because this baby is kicking me in the bladder, I might scream.” 

He chuckles lightly, kissing your forehead. “She’s going to be a fighter.” 

“She already is. She’s been beating me up for six months.” You pout. “I can’t wait until she’s here.” 

“Tech says any day now. If she’s not here in two weeks, we may have to consider inducing.” 

You make a face. “I’d rather not. It’s bad enough Tech is going to be the third member of this squad to see my vagina.” 

Crosshair’s shoulders shake as he laughs silently. 

“We might as well invite Wrecker and Echo in, make it a full set.” You push yourself up from the couch. “Everyone gets to see my vagina.” You start making your way down the hall. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to scream in the ‘fresher.” 

***

You can’t sleep. It’s early, the sky still dark out the window. Hunter is awake too, his arms wrapped around you, cradling your stomach. She’s been moving a lot, every time you’d settled and gotten close enough to rest, she’d move again, pushing on some organ inside you. 

You’d given up on sleeping. Hunter had snoozed for a bit, but he’d been awake most of the night too. He had told you not only could he hear her heartbeat, but he could also hear her moving. It freaked you out, and you can only imagine how he feels. His nose is pressed against your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Are you smelling me?” You ask quietly. It wasn’t unusual, he smelled you more than what most would consider normal, but you knew with his senses he could pick up even the smallest change if he focused. 

“I think it’s going to happen soon.” He says, kissing your shoulder. “She sounds different.” 

You sigh. “I hope so. I can’t stand this waiting.” 

You’d lost your mucus plug a week ago. Tech had said she could come at any time now. AZI’s predicted due date was technically tomorrow, but if you didn’t go into labor by next week, Tech said you’d need to be induced. 

You were hoping that was not going to be needed. You’ve been having some light cramping since yesterday, but nothing substantial. 

You smooth your hands over your stomach, breathing out a sigh. “Come on, baby girl. I know you want out as much as I want you out.” You push yourself up to sit, rubbing your eyes. “Hunter?” He grunts in response. “Will you get me some of the leftover meat from last night?” 

You can practically hear his smile as he pushes himself up. “You want some fruit too?” 

“No, just the meat.” 

He gets up, heading down the hall to the kitchen. He had grown used to your strange cravings quickly, keeping many things on hand just in case. There was never any waste, as Wrecker would eat anything and everything you didn’t want. You move to the rocking chair in the corner, hoping you can get her to settle enough that you can get some sleep. Once you go into labor, you know sleep will be impossible. 

Half the day passes and there’s no sign yet. The cramps have started to increase a bit, getting more uncomfortable than painful. Hunter sticks close, watching and waiting. He’s hovering a bit, but you know it’s just what he’s going to do. 

You spend a lot of the day on the couch, trying to relax and sleep as much as possible. You get up every so often, stretching your legs. You’re in the kitchen when it happens, something wet leaking down your thighs. 

“Well, either this is very embarrassing, or my water just broke.” You say. 

Chaos erupts, both Hunter and Tech trying to see. Omega is jumping excitedly as Echo tries to contain her, poor Wrecker looking around confused. Crosshair is the only calm one, seated at the table. The only movement he makes is moving the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. 

You move into the bedroom as planned, having refused Tech’s offer to give birth in his lab. It was much more sterile, he insisted, but you wanted to be comfortable. This was already going to be awful, the least you could get was some comfort. 

The contractions begin to get stronger into the night, most of what you had to do now was more waiting. At least things were moving. Sometime in the next two days the baby would come. You shift through various positions sitting and standing, just trying to be comfortable through the contractions. Tech and Hunter wait patiently, Hunter helping support you when needed. AZI does regular scans, checking on the baby’s progress, making sure she’s not in distress. 

The only thing that’s missing is Crosshair.

You wanted him to be present for the birth, since this was his daughter. He deserved to see the birth of his child. Even if he wanted nothing to do with her, he deserved to see her be born. 

“Go tell Crosshair to get his toothpick chewing ass in here.” You grit out after another contraction. They’re getting closer and closer together, the time getting closer and closer. 

Hunter steps out, leaving you leaning against the side of the bed. He returns shortly after, Crosshair stepping in. Whatever Hunter had said, it had motivated him without much of an argument. 

You wave him over, leaning against his chest. “I’m gonna kill you after this.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around him. “This sucks.” 

He wisely keeps his mouth shut, wrapping his arms around you. You squeeze him as another contraction tears through you, the night getting later and later. 

It’s not until early in the morning when it happens. Hunter sits behind you, propping you up and supporting you. Crosshair kneels beside the bed, holding your hand as you push. Tech kneels at the end of the bed, AZI keeping a live scan to make sure everything is going fine. 

You’re half delirious, weak and exhausted as you bring your daughter into the world. Tech lays her on your chest, getting the warm rags to clean her off. Tears blur your vision as you listen to her cry, letting go of Hunter and Crosshair to hold her. She’s so small, so delicate. You can hardly believe it’s happened, it’s finally over. 

Tech has to practically pry her from your arms to check her over and clean her up, Hunter helping clean you up. He and Crosshair get you settled in bed, Tech bundling your daughter in a blanket before passing her off to you. 

You hold her, staring down at her in awe. You can hardly believe she’s really here, your baby is finally here with you. She’s so tiny and pink, with a shock of white hair on top of her head. You smile, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare at her. 

“She’s so beautiful.” You whisper, holding her close. “You made a beautiful baby, Crosshair.”

“I think that’s all you.” He says, moving closer to you as Hunter all but shoves him closer. 

You smile. “Would you like to hold her?” 

He blinks at you for a moment. You shift, offering her over. He takes her hesitantly, like he’s scared of breaking her. You adjust her in his arms, making sure they’re both comfortable. He stares down at her for a long time, like he can’t believe he really made her, like she’s not real. 

You smile, watching him as his eyes soften a bit, his finger lifting to trace her cheek. She opens her eyes, staring up at him. They look like little shining stars, and you hope they’ll be brown like his. 

“Have you thought of a name?” Tech asks, cleaning up the rest of the mess. 

You had discussed it with both Hunter and Crosshair, the latter being less enthusiastic about having to choose. You wanted his input, even if he was positive he wanted nothing to do with raising her. 

“Stella.” Crosshair answers, still staring down at her face. 

You had brought that name forward as an option, adding it to the neverending list of possibilities. You had decided to wait to officially choose, wanting one that would match her perfectly. 

You glance at Hunter and he gives a small nod. “Stella it is.” 

Hunter wraps his arms around you, letting you lean against his chest. “Get some rest, mesh’la.” He says, kissing your head. “You did a lot of work. She’s in good hands.” 

Crosshair glances up at Hunter, Hunter giving him a reassuring smile. Maybe he does want to be part of her life after all. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @rosechi, @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

[seasonsofcapri]

Seasons of Capri 2023: Cycles & Circles - Masterlist!

Thanks to everyone who participated in the fest this year and made it such a success. Scroll down for the full masterlist, but here's a quick summary of what we did this year:

Fics submitted: 14

Fanart submitted: 3

Total number of words written: over 198,000, including four works in the 10,000-20,000 word range, and three that broke 30,000

We're so grateful to everyone who signed up and made all this incredible art. We couldn't do it without your love for these characters and this fandom! ❤️

And now, here are all of the wonderful creations for this year's fest:

Sexual Intercourse by antivillain

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 2.3k

Damen's healthy enough to engage in sexual intercourse. Laurent is (emotionally) healthy enough to tease Damen mercilessly for being so awkward and uncomfortable discussing the matter with Paschal. Paschal is not paid enough.

Tie Me Down, Set Me Free by @kiseopingu

Fic | 14.3k | Damen/Laurent

When Damen gets hired by his family's sworn rival to help track the man's younger brother, he doesn't expect the road to lead him to familiar places, and familiar faces. As for Laurent, his path to freedom is clear. It's only a matter of creating an opportunity to reach it.

As past and present slowly merge, both Damen and Laurent are forced to contend with their truths, whether they want to or not.

Jokeste’s Journey by @vmcgmidlifecrisis

Fic | Jokaste/OFC | 4.3k

Jokaste travels north, meets (original character) Drifa and gets some sexy fulfilment.

Beautiful, Beloved, Strong by bluehair

Fic | Erasmus/Kallias Erasmus/Torveld | 1.5k

My prompt for The Seasons of Capri Fest 2023 was: "Kallias schemes to save Erasmus with no hope of seeing him again--until one day, he does." Hope I did it justice! Because Kallias really would do anything for love.

Returning by flightinflame

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 2.4k

Damen knew the return to Arles would be hard for Laurent. He had not considered that it would be hard for himself.

The Stand-In Wedding Planner and the Obstinate Baker by penstrikesmidnight

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 2.8k

Auguste's wedding planner has decided to go on vacation a week before his wedding, leaving Laurent, the best man, to make sure everything is taken care of. If that's not enough, Laurent has to deal with an obstinate baker who seems intent on making his job as hard as possible.

There is absolutely no chemistry between them. At all.

Heat by @linecrosser

Art | Auguste/Laurent | Digital

While in the middle of a campaign in Delfeur with his older brother, the Crown Prince of Vere, Laurent goes into his first (late) heat at age 17 (totally triggered by the presence of Damen, the stupidly handsome Crown Prince of Akeilos). There are very few things more dangerous than having an Omega in heat while camping in enemy territory, and it's too late now for suppressants. Leaving Laurent to ride out the heat on his own would mean leaving it last for three days or more. Auguste has no option but to help Laurent through it by himself, so it will last no longer than a couple hours.

Red (like our spilled blood) by @pijulle

Fic | Kastor/Laurent Damen/Laurent Auguste/OFC | 39.6k

Akielos and Vere are at war, but maybe marrying the princess of Vere would help the two country finds a common ground - "The prince!" Auguste shouts. "Laurent is a prince!"

Star Crossed by @hephaest1on

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 35.2k

A story of Laurent Capulet and Damen Montague. A tale based on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, of lovers who suffer because their families are feuding. A modern AU that leans on the themes and actions in Shakespeare's original play and plays on the issues young lovers face in a world where gossip is news.

if only to dream of you by @nv-md

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 2.4k

During negotiations with the Vaskians and Patrans, Laurent falls ill and Damen must leave him to lead their newly-forged kingdom.

After a week of quiet suffering, Damen returns to their bedchambers and attends his husband.

Ruin Your Salvation, Ruin Your Mind by pretend_i_dont_exist

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 10.2k

"I do not understand. I thought we had a truce, so I came here for peace." His voice had grown hard and dangerous. "Why?"

Silence for a moment. "You killed my brother. ------- Laurent has suffered a lot since his brother's death, but he survived to his wedding day, and he's looking forward to a quiet life with a man he appreciates. New life, new him, he decides to invite his brother' killer to the wedding to talk and make peace with himself (by murdering the guy).

In Another Life by @mosrael

Fic | Halvik/Jokaste | 43.8k

Jokaste is the pearl of Ios–beautiful, intelligent, revered–and the consort of the most powerful man in Akielos… Or so she thinks. When her chosen lover’s power is corrupted and usurped by a foreign faction, Jokaste must make the hardest decision of her life: remain in Akielos and meet a perilous fate–one she had a hand in crafting–or flee to seek her future elsewhere.

Or: when getting kidnapped, then kidnapped again turns out to be the best possible thing that could happen to a girl.

antidote by @banananamilks

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 2.7k

Auguste survives Marlas, but Damen still becomes our captive prince. Actually all three princes are kind of the captive prince. oops

Soldier, Poet, King by @bluebutter-art

Art | Damen/Laurent | Digital

Two years after the bells had rung, both Akielos and Vere celebrate the wedding of their two Kings, which coincidentally falls on Vere's Annual Autumn Festival.

Chasing Meridians; Or 26,00 Miles to Home by @not-a-coral-snake

Fic | Damen/Laurent | 17k

Laurent lives a life of quiet routine, until the day a few ill-chosen words, his uncle's malice, and his own inability to back down from a challenge see him wagering half his fortune on an impossible journey to the ends of the earth and back. Happily, or perhaps unhappily, his newly-hired valet is making the journey with him and has plenty of opinions about where they should go, what they should do, and de Vere himself.

An Around the World in Eighty Days au.

At the Drop of a Veil by @seekthemist

Fic | Damen /Laurent | 19.1k

The Battle of Marlas could have brought the relationship between Vere and Akielos to a breaking point, but it didn't. As the peace treaty is finally signed, King Aleron has a very clear idea of how to ensure the agreement is truly felt.

"Since the formal establishment of Vere and Akielos as independent reigns, there had been twelve peace treaties. The Peace of Marlas, signed by King Aleron and Theomedes-Exalted before the beginning of autumn, would be the thirteenth.

The thirteenth peace would not go down in the history of the Kingdom as an abject failure. Not if Laurent could help it."

By the Waterfall by @captaindamianos

Art | Damen/Laurent | Digital

Laurent is the god of winter, Damen is the god of summer. They only ever overlap in spring and fall. Is their love story doomed forever?

Don’t forget to kudos and comment to show our wonderful creators your love!

❤️ your mods!

[kawaiibarty]

the phantom's game

wow okay, this fic has A LOT of lore. if you don't want to read a fic with a plot full of Plot and Slow Burn then this isn't the fic for you. alternatively, if you're looking for a fic that reads like it should be shoved in the recesses of a dingy library then this might be the fic for you?

masterlist

the fic:

the phantom's game will be incredibly slow in the beginning because it's basically remus just getting his footing in the world of literature and it's building up to the main plot.

this fic will also be written in three parts (but it will be put all together as one fic in case you want to download it or whatever, it also makes reading easier i think) or at least that's the aim. it may end up being more than three (maybe four MAYBE) and the word count aim is around 100k to 120k words. ideally the fic was to have around 40/50 chapters but as of now im really uncertain about the length (even though i know how it ends lol) because, and im such a nerd for this, but i ended up doing some math about fic chapter length compared to the original work and so far ive gathered that for every 1 chapter in the original work i have 2 chapters for my fic and an additional 1.5k words. it took me forever to work that out please clap. counting words in a book is hard.

and also

i feel like it's a testament to the dedication im putting into this fic 😔

the point of view might change from third to first person after part one, which may be a bit confusing so im putting a pin in this idea for now as im not even close to part two (let me know what you think about this!)

characters/relationships

this fic is written from the perspective of remus lupin and the main pairing is wolfstar (remus/sirius). main characters are remus, leo ferox (from the fanfiction all the young dudes), and sirius black. other characters are barty crouch jr, lily evans and her father who is an oc; maurice evans and other characters will be added as i write because i cba to actually flesh it out rn (and also i dont want to spoil). there are also minor relationships that are discussed.

trigger warnings/content warnings:

there are quite a few things that happen in this fic that id like to forewarn you of should you decide to read it. there are discussions of abusive parents, substance abuse and violence. in one of the chapters there will be some dubious consent, drugging, there will be descriptions of murder and violence as well as discussions around mental illness and homophobia. discussions/mentions of suicide!!!!

i will be adding on as the fic goes because i know there is stuff that ive missed.

why am i doing this???

i largely wrote this fic because i got high on meds and some other stuff it was wacko and i had absolutely nothing to do. id completely given up in trying to recover my old zombie apocalypse fic (it's a long story) and i really wanted something that i was familiar with not just because i liked the complex and the idea but because i knew it. iykwim?

it's based on a book i read when i was fifteen that got me out of the second largest reading slump in my life and basically catapulted me into the genre of fantasy realism and the whole dark/chaotic academia scene. i also decided that i would continue writing it after my beta @thestrawberryapologist showed interest in it.

another reason why i continued it rather than trying to piece together a nonexistent zombie apocalypse fic was because i have recommended this book COUNTLESS times but it seems no one i recommended it to seemed to like it.

so this is me saying, very passive aggressively, that the plot IS GOOD :(

i smashed the original book in like 2 days and ive been thinking about it for four years straight. i haven't even gotten to reading the other parts of the series because im still hooked on how THIS specific one was written.

its also a really fun (and for me) a new look into the characters because ive really never written anything this detailed before. the plot is a rollercoaster and you HAVE to stay on your toes with the the original work and i would really really like to reflect that onto my writing.

this is also the first time since i was 15/16 that ive properly attempted anything full length with the means to actually finish it off.

when is it going to be finished?

that's a good question. and one i don't know the answer to. it took me 2 months to get to chapter 4 so... it may take a year or two or 6 months dude but it's gonna be long and it's gonna be full

please don't be shy to ask me about it (though that doesn't mean im inclined to spoil it — which i won't!)

[ceiling-karasu]

I had a dream about one of the OCs I made a while ago (also murder mystery theater).

I know back in March I was discussing different AUs and OCs I could use for future projects, and I had a few issues with one that made me think I should axe that project, so I kind of put them on the wayside. (And hey, since we have been talking about neglecting certain OCs...)

My first problem was that I had four (fifth route scientist path absolutely not) different directions the AU hedgehog could go, but each way would require the OC to have a different personality and backstory. I wound up calling them Omelas, Yossarian (like Catch-22), POW, and Victorian mystery illness as placeholder names. Actual names would come much later. The other issue is that I later found out someone else had some similar ideas, but the ideas for each are different so I think it should be fine.

Either way, it was just a little too complicated to be viable, I thought.

But I had a dream this week that made me realize I could do all of the backstories and plots, if I split the one hedgehog into four different characters with intertwining stories.

Also, much more Flower Hill corruption than I originally had planned, but works out better.

It is kind of long, and only has basic ideas I want for the plot, so I'll put it under a read more.

Omelas

Some Flower Hill generals (or other high ranking position in the army) secretly invade some villages outside the borders of Flower Hill and abduct hedgehogs to pad their numbers. After all, the weasels will run out of bodies at some point, so they might as well throw some bodies that are not from Flower Hill at them.

Omelas is the child of a Korean/Ainu style village in which children are raised communally (and maybe girls aren’t given names until marriage, that is a regional thing in the past), and the hedgehog in question is just treated as an 'extra burden' since they are female. The area itself speaks a specific language dialect since it has been remote for generations, but the village head has been discouraging that.

The young hedgehogs are taken by the generals and sergeants, who mark them as Flower Hill hedgehogs trying to escape conscription, so no one asks many questions, especially since many of them can't give proper names, so other soldiers think they are lying. The military leaders involved get large bonuses for capturing deserters, as well as for how many conscripts they have under them, so two birds one stone.

Eventually, most of the other non Flower Hill hedgehogs die in battle, while the survivors plan rebellions behind the scenes.

Omelas, possibly as part of a ploy by the group to 'send a message,' causes a scene including destruction and threatening Flower Hill in the other dialect one day, that gets herself in trouble. The military police during the trial finds absolutely no record of her existing in Flower Hill before the army, which backs up the stories that had been going around, uncovering the corruption. The investigation unit that has to come in realizes that they now have an international incident on their hands if anyone finds out, and also if the records have been falsified, then there are an untold number of angry foreign hedgehogs planning a rebellion, and they don't know where they are.

Omelas is sent to work on a farm as punishment for the incident she caused, and also to keep them out of the way while Flower Hill tries to figure out what to do about the abductions (probably nothing, most of them are dead anyway, and it could be easier for the others to be written off as weasel sympathizers and ‘gotten rid of’), especially since the villages no longer consider the missing hedgehogs their own.

I kind of want her to be named after a mushroom. I really like the name Enoki/Enokitake, but that is a Japanese word, and it is Pine Mushrooms (songi beoseot) that are the major delicacy in North Korea, so I have to work on that.

But either way, she hates Flower Hill from the bottom of her heart, but also knows the weasels would kill her, so she has to bide her time and hope the rest of the survivors do their part.

Yossarian:

A young hedgehog from a family where each member has an impressive military career, especially in sniping (almost wondering if she should be related to Wonsi, my other hedgehog OC from a sniper family, but those AU ideas are not connected). When she was young, she found a sick and starving mouse child who had crossed the border and tries to help them, only for a squirrel friend a few years older than her to murder the child for being one of the enemy. Everyone praised the squirrel (possibly because they thought they might be next), who later went on to be a squad leader/general, which makes Yossarian question Flower Hill and why everyone outside needs to die, especially if they are too weak to be an issue. She doesn’t question the war or conscription in general, though, just why she has to do it.

Since she is an excellent sniper during conscription, her term limits keeps getting raised, and she is put in an 'exception' group. Like in Catch-22, this group can only end the conscription if they go on a set amount of missions, but that number keeps getting raised whenever they near the cap.

The leader of the group (I don't know military terms and commander seems to be wrong here) is the squirrel friend, who offers to let her out if she marries him in a televised wedding to show off Flower Hill's unity. At some point he forges paperwork saying that everyone in the unit has decided to stay in the military full time for another two years (have not decided if the 'exception group' explanation was a lie he came up with). Most of the group is happy that they did not have to waste the time filling out the paperwork, but others fall into depression, disrupting the unity of the unit.

Thus, Yossarian feels trapped and resents Flower Hill, while also feeling very protective of the few squad-mates she likes, and starts sniping enemy mice and weasels in the shoulders, in such a way that they can never hold guns again, but can still otherwise work. This earns her a reputation with the Weasel Unit. Killing someone brings no joy, but she finds it disturbing how excited she gets to wound someone, since it means they can finally be free, as she wishes to be.

But what would she even do outside of the army? Be a farmer? That would be disgraceful for the family, but can they really see themselves as being a part of the military or marrying the squirrel forever?

Finally, Yossarian snaps and assaults the commanders themselves when they call her in to send her on a long mission, screaming about the lies and false paperwork, which surprises and confuses them (also the squad mates who thought she was happy), because would have assumed she would be happy to work for Flower Hill in that way (oh, but there are a few like her every now and then, but they usually wash out earlier), but yes, that squirrel should not have done that.

He only gets a slap on the wrist, and Yossarian is 'diagnosed' with combat fatigue and stress due to expectations, but still needs to be punished, and is sentenced to work on a farm.

Meanwhile, a small investigation is started.

POW

A failed squirrel scout who gets captured and is a POW for a while before being rescued. But it is assumed he must have talked or turned, and is sent to a detention/re education facility instead to figure out what information they gave (he gave nothing). The detention facility actually does worse than what the weasels did to him, emotionally at least. Flower Hill was supposed to care about him, but they have completely betrayed him, and are not giving his injuries proper medical attention. Also, he is really afraid to go back out, considering everything he had gone through. Even the friends who are allowed to visit look at him as if they think he is weak and pathetic somehow.

He is not actually supposed to be in the detention facility. His commanding officer was a nepotism hire who accidentally gave him the wrong information, and then forged evidence of him being turning traitor to cover up his mistakes. Or maybe was even bribed by the weasel unit to give him over, and the rescue is a ‘problem’ for whatever deals he has going on if anyone looks too closely at the capture. No one in the facility questions the paperwork, though, and don’t explain anything to the squirrel.

This can go two ways:

POW eventually goes into sepsis from the injuries (maybe appendicitis, although really just humans, monkeys, possums, and rabbits who get that but hey, fiction?), and is only saved by the his old drill Sargent who was brought in to scream about what a disgrace he was, but recognized he was dying. That, or the facility gets raided by the Weasel Unit, and some enemy soldiers recognize him and appear so genuinely concerned about his health that he accidentally confesses and answers all their questions. Maybe both.

Or, he agrees to go back out on another mission so he can leave the facility. The handlers falsify some records to say he is fully retrained and recovered, but upon joining up with the Weasel Unit in disguise, has a panic attack and goes catatonic, which combined with his other health issues, freaks out the mice. The doctors turn out to be his original interrogators, who send him back because his reappearance in such a way actually answers the majority of the questions they had been asking about Flower Hill the first time they captured him, so they have no need of him anymore.

The workers could actually be fired or jailed for what they did to him, so they write it off as him developing sympathies for the enemy and helping them (perhaps albeit under duress) which nets him a labor sentence on a farm (especially if they spin it as he somehow brought the weasel unit to attack the facility and let them in). But his physical injuries linger, making it difficult for him to work, and there may be quite a few mental issues involved, which only gets worse as actual investigations begin and find him at the center of the turmoil. Also the drill Sargent starts asking a lot of questions.

Victorian Mystery Disease.

Basically a hedgehog with a failure to thrive issue. They have been sickly since birth with some sort of fatigue disorder, which everyone assumes is laziness. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot move very far without feeling exhausted and slowing down. Maybe some chronic pain issues as well.

Eventually he gets diagnosed as a malingerer, and as punishment to 'fix him,' he is sent to a farm to labor as punishment.

He is very upset about this, and has been frustrated his entire life with his inability to be 'normal,’ like everyone else.

Honestly, I’m kind of thinking Fibromyalgia. I’d didn’t expect to find this term when looking up symptoms as I was about to post, I was going to leave it open ended or give them regular anemia problems.

Murder Mystery

As I said in the original post, The idea for all of this came from when I was playing The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog the day it came out (those actual playtime segments were really stressful and made my mind jump around), and I did want a train to be involved at some point.

Which serves as a good meeting point for the characters, while they are being transported to the farm. They can't exit the train, so they are mostly allowed to roam free.

So, it could start en media res, which each of the four accidentally getting drunk at different points and bemoaning their problems. (Omelas because her guard suggested she tries a drink because she will never get the chance again, Yossarian to drown the stress and shame, POW to steady his nerves because he saw Weasel Unit soldiers, and Vic because it was an accident).

A bartender has the most horrifying night of his life, making him question his habits of getting strangers drunk to listen to their life stories, and briefly reconsider his alliance to Flower Hill.

A foreign reporter has the most fascinating day of her life.

The Poirot style international detective is very concerned.

Meanwhile, the train tracks have been switched, stranding the train in the snow, while several prominent people on board are murdered one by one, and the four are some of the prime suspects...

The Farm

The original plan was for the farm to be at the ocean. But that would provide too many opportunities to escape (although weasel unit infiltration would be easier). I am actually thinking of making the punishment farm be in Dol Jogagga, the rock carving/sculpting village I made up. After all, the sculptures are important for international relations, so they could use some help with the farms.

And they were roommates.

The four live in one small farmhouse together and farm what they can. They are told that if they can manage a certain amount of harvest several times in a row, then they can go back to the rest of Flower Hill.

They dislike each other either for being foreign or for being weak, but eventually heal and unlearn propaganda, maybe. Which is the opposite of what was supposed to happen.

So, basic farming, recovery, and slice of life in this village. Dol Jogagga is protected with enough sentries that there is almost no way to escape without them noticing. But they are remote enough to not stigmatize the laborers like the rest of Flower Hill. In fact, they are a little suspicious of the commanders, and can feel sympathy for the four, so are relatively nice to them, and try and help the best they can. Also remote enough to have their own dialect as well, which the four sometimes accidentally use, to the amusement of the villagers.

Maybe some enemies to lovers with Omelas and Yossarian. POW and Vic can just vibe as roommates and try and fix/understand their illnesses together.

Omelas learns that life does not have to be a tragedy and starts to relax a bit. Maybe starts growing mushrooms and starts a successful business. Everyone else learns to find farming very relaxing.

The corrupt investigative officers and other officers realize that the four are actually enjoying themselves, and people are asking too many questions, but cannot change the punishments because it turns out they got kickbacks from them in the first place. Plus, changing the punishments would bring even more suspicion upon everyone involved in the corruption plots, so they try and trick them into leaving on occasion.

Corrupt investigative officers/military police keep coming by to try and make the four confess to something since otherwise they know too much. Maybe sometimes Weasel Unit scouts do sneak into the village and shenanigans ensure.

Anyway, thanks to the hurricane, it has been raining for days here, and some parts of my area have been evacuated. I'm uphill, at least.

But it had me dreaming that it was a hazy, pleasantly humid, raining midday afternoon. The type of day when the chores are done, and there is not much to do. The hedgehogs and squirrel are cuddled up at the entrance way of the house, either drinking tea or mushroom soju, sliding door opened. In the distance, one of the nosy and aggressive investigators has arrived to harass them again, but since it was an unsanctioned visit, did not know the exact house, and are falling into muddy fields, getting further and further away.

It was very relaxing.

[ihaveforgortoomany]

(Ok I did say I would go back to Global posting but there is not much to say right now without CN spoilers so)

(Also once its out Ill give a day before I will revamp any previous 1.9 posts with everything translated)

Alright then.

Talking about everything we know lore wise about a certain 2.2 character, and discussion on who they are.

Ok its Kimberely (and/ or) Anjo Nala.

The post that introduces Kimberely refers to a supernatural spy called Mata Hari, who was executed by a soldier in Paris. The post also introduces that she has an identical sister, Nana Hari whose whereabout are unknown following the arrest of her sister.

In 2.0 Kimberely is introduced to being stored/ trapped in the toy robot originally in the Foundation until a certain time taken by Eternity, then given to the Preacher and released to stop Joe, and afterwards robot ends in the possession of a Manus footsoldier. Its clear whoever has the robot can control her to an extent ( as seen in the 2.2 trailer, if she didn't have any ability to resist the control Vertin probably would have been immediately stabbed not strangled).

In 2.1 story she answers to Ms Grace (Kayla? idk yet) and ends up in Tuesday's motel as part of Manus Vindicate (notably I think she says shes apart of the Manus, not the Order of Enlightenment). Here she is noticably more terrified, jumpy and anxious and immediately escapes when cornered by Argus and Vertin. She doesn't turn into the giant furry boss thing in 2.0 (maybe since it was an enclosed space?) and that she is in the possession of the robot.

That leads us to 2.2.

Currently it is in debate whether Kimberely or Anjo Nala are the same person, people speculate they are actually the identical twins as mentioned in the post, the vas seem the same and appearance wise looks the same.

Thing is the post seems explicit that one of the twins had been executed (again this is translated so likely there might be misconceptions here) and that one of them had disappeared following the death of their twin. Unless Mata had survived, I theorise Anjo Nala and Kimberely are in fact the same person, after the death of her twin was trapped in the robot for sometime until the events of 2.0. She could be easily pretending to be her twin if anything.

Why say they are the same person?

(Again we don't exactly know what type of arcanist they are)

But the robot in 2.2 (left) is the same as the robot in 2.0 (right)

Unless both sisters were stored in identical robots then Im wrong.

I see it going two ways:

One - They are separate individuals who both fall to the control of the robot, then there are two identical robots for two twins

Two - To evade capture after the execution of her sister, Kimberely/ Anjo Nala was stored in the robot for sometime until released by the Preacher.

As for her story in 2.2 that is speculation, if she had already met Vertin in 2.1 then the hesitation to kill her may come from hesitation to kill someone who had been nice to her briefly/ or hesitation to kill someone who was innocent or a literal child.

Likely Vertin gets the robot by the end of 2.2 and Anjo Nala joins the suitcase.

(I will speculate on the Manus maybe later) (I did say I was gonna do Global posting but not much to say and its better for global players to be surprised lol)

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: The Odd Squad UK Gadget-Making Competition Video

I was originally going to make this into a longer post where I discuss Odd Squad UK more in-depth, but to keep things simple (and to avoid frying my brain), I'm going to keep this and another post separated. They will be linked, though, so keep an eye out for an edit and a reblog in the coming months.

We got a first taste of OSUK a little over a week ago, and with it came quite a few things to dissect. Because Season 2 can't be the only season that gets something UK-exclusive that never made its way to the States and never will. Curl up, try to cry, cry anyway.

Join me below the break as I make a Thanksgiving feast out of mere crumbs. Or try to, anyway.

Those of you who have been in the loop might have seen the BTS photos of the UK Headquarters on Instagram. This is what I can safely assume is the bullpen, going by the seal, the desk on the right with some kind of a green form, and...well I mean fuckin' look at it.

As you can see, it's an incredibly stark difference from the Headquarters seen in the past three seasons, though this one looks similar to S1 and S2's, for, y'know, obvious reasons. It actually looks more like something you'd see in some kind of a government building, like your local city hall or the DMV, than anything else.

There's not even any sliding doors either! Which is...well, I mean I watched Season 3, this surprises me next to none.

Take it all in...take it in...

...You took it in? Goood, goooooood. Moving on.

"NOT SO ANDROGYNOUS NOW IS SHE. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, BITCHES."

-- The CBBC, probably, maybe

Anyway, this is our first look at a living, moving, breathing Captain Oooooooooooooh whoa what the FUCK is at the end of her ropes? Are...are those knitting needles? Stabby-stabs?

I'm...what even are those?

Okay, okay, someone else can answer that. I'm moreso interested in the smartwatch she's wearing, because Oprah and other Directors in the past haven't worn smartwatches. That, combined with how nautical she looks, donning upper clothing usually reserved for male Directors, and having a unique title, makes her have a rather unique appearance.

"Orwell, I am giving a speech. What do you want."

"Someone stole your copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."

"Damn it!"

Jokes aside, we now get to the second newly-debuted living breathing moving character of this very short video: Orwell, a Security agent who's about as cheerful as someone whose entire family got run over by Cybertrucks. I don't know if I ever made this joke in any public form before, but in promotional images, he reminds me of Fin Tutuola and...well, with this video, the comparison just launched itself outta my head. Just a lil'. Not a whole lot. Only a lil'.

Yeeeeeah...I'm starting to see how this is poorly edited. Captain O's and Orwell's voices coming through two different audio channels instead of the same one, no BGM in the beginning...this weird-ass cut to Ozzie...I mean I don't expect high quality, but come now. For one of the first promotional things for Odd Squad UK, you'd think they'd do better.

...

This is just a regular-ass home, isn't it. Lookit that Backrooms-esque kitchen there. Lookit the hypnosis wheel ta- no seriously, whose home is this, and if it's Ozzie's, why? And if it's Headquarters...again, why?

I do appreciate the tea set, though. The tea set is to the UK what sharing actors is to Canada. Don't do it, don't get tax credits.

"The Mondays? In my Christian Headquarters?! Inconceivable! Blasphemous!"

No but seriously, this is the most unserious shit I have ever seen from Odd Squad as a franchise, and that is genuinely saying something. The Mondays isn't an odd disease. It's not an odd illness that will grant you extra limbs or make your blood turn blue. It's what everybody who has ever worked a paid job a single day in their life goes through.

*takes off the glasses* You're not boostin' my confidence, BBC.

"It doesn't matter what we seem to do. We can't put a smile on his face."

I'M AN ADUUUUUUUUULT!!!

WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD, JACKASS!!

(...Who the hell said McDonald's?)

*slaps on helmet*

Mmmmmmmmmhm. Strap in, human beings. This is where the real shit gets even realer.

So as you can see, Ozzie isn't in his Investigation agent suit here. Promotional material has shown that he's in that suit pretty much all the time, and given how Orli doesn't appear in this video, it's safe to say that we can plop it into the pre-series era.

This specific department had people in the fandom theorizing for the longest time about what it was. Was it a new look for the Creature department? An updated piece of clothing from the Mobile Unit department? A new department enti- oh shit, wait, that's actually it, isn't it.

Yeah, so if you look at the wings on the hexagon symbol there, it's clear to see that this is some kind of a flight department. I'm just going to quote part of the official show synopsis here, so you folks can get a view of what I'm trying to get at:

Not to worry, brand-new agents Orli and Ozzie are on the case. Their job is to solve the toughest and oddest cases now wreaking havoc across the land, sea, and sky (and even that hard-to-reach area behind the couch cushions).

I might as well spit out a theory (one of few, believe you me) that have been spinning in my mind like a nuked rotisserie chicken clinging to life ever since Odd Squad UK was officially announced as a project.

*deep breath*

Okay. So. You guys know Captain O. Loves nautical things. Looks the part. Has assistants who look like sailors.

What if -- and hear me out for a moment -- what if she has a boat? One that can travel across the sea and across the sky?

For land, that's what the tubes are for. That's a nonissue. But for missions that involve going out onto open water or going high into the sky...that's what the boat is for. And if you have a boat that goes up into the sky, you're gonna need some agents who deal in flight matters.

Headcanon accepted. If you hear screaming at any point this fall, assume it's me.

*long exhale*

See, with Odd Squad, child actors can be hit-or-miss. Some, like Dalila Bela and Millie Davis, knock their roles right outta the park, sometimes even going beyond their abilities and really getting into character (for those two specifically, Olive and Oprah are relatable to their personalities as actors, so it makes things easier). Some are okay -- they're neither good nor bad. And some just don't have the range.

The kid playing Orwell here...is on the latter end.

I get it. It's a video out of a twelve "testing the waters for another season or series" episodes of a UK-based spinoff series in a franchise that keeps going nose-down. I shouldn't go in expecting top-notch quality. I'm setting the bar low, as are a host of other people. And I have absolutely no disrespect against the kid who plays Orwell, because for God sakes, I have standards. But twelve episodes of stiff, the-script-might-as-well-be-in-the-damn-hands-when-filming acting like this is gonna be really hard to stomach, especially since Orwell is a main character.

Getting back to gooder things: this "yeeeeeeah, obviously" bit made me laugh harder than it should've. There is no customer service persona for Orwell here. Concept is foreign to him.

Onom is, unfortunately, not in this episode. However, I do appreciate that the Lab is just as eccentric as he is. Not even Precinct 13579's Lab was this crazy!

(And if you're wondering who Onom is: he's the brother of the Pokemon Snom.)

(...No, I'm kidding. He's our Science man for this series. The gods are returning to their roots.)

this video is about viewers making a gadget

orwell grabs a gadget for absolutely no reason other than by proxy

If this is giving a hint to contest entrants, they sure are being vague as hell about it.

If this is not giving a hint to contest entrants, Orwell's taking the gadget like it's the thing that made Onom go vamoosh in the first place.

...

Hold up-

Wake up? Drank.

Feel sad? Drank.

Go to work? Drank.

Get paid jack shit? Drank.

Take a shower? Drank (with the tea bag you showered yourself with).

Last season, they didn't commit enough to a whole entire newspaper page and had to use Lorem ipsum text.

This series, they have someone write words on a paper that are actually read.

I don't know, guys, that says a hell of a lot of things quality-wise.

I see Onom's leaning real damn hard into the Oona archetype, because you can bet your damn asses she would pull this shit on Olympia, Otis, and Oprah with absolutely no remorse.

...No, let me correct myself: she has pulled this shit on them with absolutely no remorse. And fuck it, she'll do it again.

They were probably expecting people to react like Captain O here.

In reality, my body folded in on itself so hard the local urgent care place became a 24/7 business.

...I'm starting to realize what that one person said about OSUK making references to past seasons/series now. I laughed it off. I said "in 12 episodes, that'll never happen."

But it did.

And it will haunt me so.

The Emergency Un-Monday Protocol is the Odd Squad version of workplaces telling you "we're like a family".

It's an unneeded red flag that fucks people over royally.

0/10, sweet summer child didn't even try.

Let's be honest here: if Ozzie encapsulates the reaction you should have when listening to this left-audio-channel-only, bobbin-n-weavin', lip-syncing-does-not-exist bit, then that's...not really a good sign.

Oooohoho no. I'm not the gal to turn to, kiddos. Not when I get the Mondays every goddamn day of the week.

...You're pointing at a person who feels crushing depression every time she walks into a Target, what are you doing-

...God damn it, this eyebrow-raising makes me cackle. It's so unexpected.

Honestly, I might be asking too much of a series that has the episode span of 70% of anime, but I want more fourth-wall-breaking moments like this. Keep the meta alive!

"But please, no Slime-inators. I just washed my hair."

Ozzie's been to one too many Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards for his liking.

That, or he's taking after Otis and his "regular hair".

AH!! AAAAAAAAAHH!! YOU CAN SEE ALEXANDER CRACK A SMILE THERE!! I SAW IT!! I GOT MY GLASSES ON SUCKERS, I CAN SEE THAT SHIT.

Terrible audio balancing aside...and the terrible timing of the logo bouncing...

...Oh wow, that's the other logo. The secondary one. Kinda cool!

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

So overall, this was...a rather disappointing first taste. Whether this sets the standard for the series remains to be seen, but I'm not all too hopeful. Maybe the September results video will see things improve.

That being said, the characters are at least pretty engaging thus far. I'll need to see them in action a little more to make any final decisions, though.

Like I said in the beginning, I'll be putting out a Seren's Study about OSUK when we get more info on it. I'm aiming for August, but it might come out in September when the results video does. We'll see.

For now, thanks for reading. If you want to see the video for yourself, it's here:

[mathlann]

Heinrix :3

How I feel about this character

Uhh....I will link [here] for a much longer answer on how I feel about that man and my answer later down the line, but he is a ragged chew toy to me. He's genuinely such a good microcosm of the role of "privileged" psykers in the Imperium and all the identity issues that come with that and also the inherent cross-purposes between the State Power of the Inquisition and the Frontier Authority of Rogue Traders. And I say this as an expression of love: I want him to fuck off and out of the airlock.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Heinrix x Cas but only in the way that is toxic, or in an AU where they have different jobs that aren't at each other's throats. I know I only ever seem to post mean about him but I genuinely was almost swayed by the allure of the No Jealousy mod.

Heinrix x My Mutuals' Rogue Traders 💕

Heinrix x Therapy (20 year minimum)

And ofc, I am a Heinrizhai hatefuck truther from day 1 so...its not romance but I ship it. I think they could defeat Slaanesh.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

If Heinrix and Marazhai can't fuck nasty I need them to at least kill each other.

Heinrix and Abelard are a fun duo. I'm a firm believer that Heinrix is only maybe behind Abelard by a few decades at most. They have the kind of energy that says they've both been found sleeping with their arms crossed in front of the Cogitators while watching the Space!Blood Bowl.

Heinrix and Jae can hang as well but only when he's chill and not being a cop about it. I honestly would love to hear them talk religion. He needs some of her "chill out about The Exalted One" energy.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Okay, I've spent too long on this answer so, linked post for more controversial thoughts but the current Bugbear chewing on my mind is that I feel like the fandom kind of treats him being in the Ordo Xenos as just like...a job that has no bearing on his character outside that he's a workaholic about it. And that does so much disservice to the analysis of his character as an institution man™.

Like we cannot discuss Heinrix's Mercy path and inner iconoclast core without acknowledging that his development there is intimately tied to his struggles as a psyker within the framework of the Imperium's Dogma. Which, if he was a member of the Ordo Hereticus or Malleus, would be smooth sailing. But he's Ordo Xenos, which notably has not much to do with his issues as a psyker. Plus, Aeldari are people too, and the narrative I feel is pretty intentional with showing how Heinrix's xenophobia is more often than not wrong. And not even to say "Aeldari are always right" but rather Heinrix follows a pattern emblematic of the Imperium's xenos policy that values short-sighted blanket mistrust and paranoia of slights real and imagined, that often agitates and makes situations worse especially when it comes to harms ultimately originating with other humans. And so you can't discuss the ways Heinrix shows or feels mercy towards someone like Emelina, without discussing the people he actively chooses to not to extend those feelings towards. And I feel like that gets swept under the rug because a lot of the notable incidents involve Marazhai the Instigator and Yrliet, the local Bitch Eating Crackers, and so for reasons fair and not, a lot of the fandom is predisposed to seeing them as unreliable or deserving of ill treatment for their behavior in ways that don't get applied to the humans.

And honestly, if I had the time to soapbox about it I'd argue that the issues of Heinrix's job-dependence, impotent anger at his circumstances, and self-loathing are all things that make him a perfect match for the Ordo Xenos because it allows him to channel those feelings onto creatures and populations* that Dogma has taught him are unambiguously good to harm! That's intrinsic to the character to me tbh.

*Creatures and populations here acknowledging that not all xenos are "people" in the way that can be reasoned with but Aeldari are and that's who the game deals with.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

On the silly side: DLC where if you follow Heinrix's advice on how to handle the Drukhari, the Ordo Malleus shows up to try to beat your/Heinrix's ass. Genuinely they are having such a bad couple of months/years on a Dogmatic Rogue Trader run lmao.

On the serious side: Okay I'm conflicted about this because Heinrix xenophobia is such a core part of his character but also I do wish, especially if you romance him, the game acknowledged how out of pocket he gets if you keep the xenos? Because he absolutely is overstepping both your rights as Rogue Trader and Calcazar's orders to let you be. Like, if you decide to keep Marazhai, as is your God-Emperor-given right, he will use words with you that cannot be found in the Lectitio Divinitatus, but outside telling him "no" in the moment you never really get to address his behavior. I've said it in the past in another post but the fact that romanced!Heinrix will apologize to you for having sex but not for repeatedly undermining your orders...in front of your retinue and crew....insane man. Owlcat let me shake him.

[jhscdood]

i woke up in a Bad Headspace today and imma use by blog to vent about it like it's livejournal circa 2004.

tw for discussion of medical stuff

- I hate xmas. I'm jewish but my dad is not and the pressure to have An Perfect Xmas every year and the disappointment every year just grosses me out now. Not even going to talk about american xtian hegemony but there's some of that in there too.

- Today i began to suspect that the awesome new migraine med that actually stops my weather-induced migraines might also be interfering with the efficiacy of my prediabetes meds. or maybe im wrong and im Just That Fucking Exhausted.

- Spouse spent all last week recovering from a severe medication allergy and hives on 70% of his body. and steroids Do Not Agree with him so it was just. a wild time. terrifying af. stood over him with an EpiPen basically the entire time.

- 3 days before The Hives, i scratched my cornea while pruning bushes and that right there is a pain i do not ever want to revisit. had to go to the optometrist and get The Goo.

- 2 days before Cornea i had my first Botox For Migraine treatment. 31 injections to the face, neck and shoulders. it stung but it was over in like 4 minutes. takes 3 sessions to start kicking in. sessions are 12 weeks apart. so i guess we'll find out in August if it's working.

- day before Botox i had an ENT appointment and he stuck a camera up my nose and then diagnosed me with a weird vocal cord paralysis thing so now i have to go back to speech therapy for the first time in 26 years.

- Week before that, saw my neurologist and she diagnosed me with a weird intermittent lazy eye / motion lag thingamawhatsis so now i have to go to an ophthalmologist AND vision therapy.

- That week I also saw my PCP and explained to her about the intermittent abdominal pain I've been having since like 2021. She took me seriously!!! Which is good!!! But now i am scheduled for baby's first colonoscopy. And i have to keep a food journal, which i HATE because food is STUPID.

- All of the above all happened this month btw. December 1-23.

- My final appt in November was yet another ultrasound of my former left tit because there is an oil cyst at the site of my top surgery and they are VERY SURE it is a benign oil cyst but the rules require them to poke it every few months for 2-3 years.

- Before that I had a 48 hour ambulatory EEG which was the itchiest i have ever been in my LIFE. That same week our basement stairs collapsed and a contractor had to come rebuild them (up! to! code!). That same week i also went to the dentist to get my crown fitted.

- I think my MIL was in the hospital that same week, too. so that's a thing that's been going on the whole time since then.

- I spent most of October deathly ill with food poisoning thst was originally misdiagnosed as viral. I ended up with a CT scan and colitis. and, eventually, cipro. it was the sickest i have ever been in my adult life. i would rather have mono again. i fantasized about those cholera beds with the hole in the center so you didnt have to get up to have your horrid dysentery. nightmare.

- The day before that hit i had ONE golden day where i felt good and had energy. we went to temple and i got glomped by about 10 different people. my 80 year old bestie kept finding me to hug me again. Rabbi hugged me super hard.

- Before that was a root canal, and before that was a tooth infection that took 2 rounds of antibiotics to kill, and before that was the original cavity filling that started it all. the dentist kindly comped me the $172 for the filling against the $3,800 bill for the root canal + crown.

- Before that? IDEK man. I have lost track. Somewhere in there i got diagnosed with insulin resistance which explained my HORRENDOUSLY TERRIBLE fatigue and cloudiness and waking up starving every 3 hours. The meds they gave me changed that literally overnight. it was a miracle. which is why im freaking out about the new migraine med possibly counteracting that. i spent the entirety of last summer in a fog. several of my very good friends visited and all i could do was nap on them. i couldnt go anywhere or do anything. it was a nightmare. i don't want to go back to that. but also i don't want to have a migraine every time the wind blows. but i would rather have a migraine 50% of the time than be back to that fatigue fogged state 100% of the time. nope nope nope.

- and amongst all of this, still having the seizures. they were going down for a while but the last week or so has been 1-2 per day. so. another checkmark in the "gee do you think you're stressed?" column.

- it is going on 10pm and I'm tired so i very likely have accidentally omitted several other things. to be fair to me, there's Quite A Bit to remember.

- so if youre wondering why i havent updated my latest fic, its partly bc i am TIRED and partly bc if i gave jason even a third of the health bullshit i have dealt with the past few months, it would absolutely defy belief. TWO kinds of eye problems AND a speech problem AND food poisoning AND dentistry?? surely no one in the world has to deal with that much!

sigh. anyway. thanks for listening. i promise i am stressed out of my GOURD but, shockingly, have not slid into any sort of depressive space. mostly im just annoyed. i spent today watching dinosaur documentaries and reorganizing my craft supplies.

tomorrow will be better. today just sucked.

[morocosmos]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 30 - Two Heads Are Better Than One

Masterlist Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Pairings: Guydelot Thildonnet, Sanson Smyth, Original Female Character (mentioned) Rating: Gen Additional Notes: Continues from this.

The door shuts not-so-gently, and Yezih’s footfalls are hurried as she leaves. Just like that. The air settles into a familiar calm; Guydelot pulls out his harp.

“So what's the word, Chief?” He lays back down on the couch, plucking a few notes and looking at Sanson. The other man's hands have threaded together in a loose grip, his thumbs tapping lightly as he deliberates.

“She was sincere enough,” Sanson answers. “And I do not doubt her skill with a lance. She joined the guild only a few moons after I did — not exceptional, by any means, but a fine enough fighter by the time I left to join the Twin Adder.” 

Guydelot's ears perk up in interest. “Oh? If I’d known just how relevant Yezih was to that part of your life, I would’ve asked more questions.”

“Yezih came here to discuss joining the unit, not so that you could badger her about my past,” Sanson counters. Guydelot can see the rest of his thoughts in the way his brow scrunches up. “And you needn’t have scrutinised her so. She was incredibly nervous — almost intimidated,” Sanson says, sounding perplexed. “Though I cannot imagine why.”

“She was trying her darndest to impress you,” Guydelot casually answers for him, scoffing in part because he doesn’t think much of folks who do that, but also because he’d been plucking out the beginnings of a tune that he’s been trying to figure out for days. He gives up and sets the harp down. “I reckon she’s made of the same stiff, stern stuff as you, just a few notches more high strung.”

“Do you think so?” Sanson takes a moment to ponder the thought, before shaking his head. “Regardless, it would be strategically sensible to add another lancer into the unit. The groundwork of our training regimen already takes such things into consideration.”

“And you’d have someone to lighten the load.” Guydelot isn’t the type to nag, but he is aware of just how much Sanson already has on his plate, being the unit’s captain as well as the only lancer in the group. He isn’t going to see his dream fulfilled if he runs himself into the ground first.

“I suppose, yes.” Sanson pauses, and there’s a hint of doubt in his voice. “My main concerns are that her desire to work with Rema takes precedence, and that she wasn’t wholly truthful about why she’s so keen to join the unit.” He frowns. “She could be…confrontational at times, back at the guild. Snapping at the slightest insult or ill remark, especially when it concerned Rema or her family.”

Guydelot hums. “But maybe that’s why having her and Rema together ain’t such a bad thing? If they’ve truly been thick as thieves since they were little, that might keep her focused on what matters.” And maybe it is him playing favourites, but it’s also precisely the sort of bond that would strengthen their newest bard’s songs — Lothaire and Ceanan have more technical expertise and camaraderie, but Rema has more soul than the both of them combined. Someone she cares for would be just the thing to bring out her true potential. “Two heads are better than one and all.” He favours Sanson with a smile. “Kind of like us, eh?”

Sanson shakes his head, but the corners of his mouth tilt upwards; Guydelot takes it as a victory. “Anyroad, there’s no need to decide until we have a better measure of her. A practical exercise would be just the thing, one that incorporates the unit’s existing members…”

Guydelot knows what Sanson will be doing the rest of the day. He takes up the harp again — may as well try to salvage that tune one last time.

[wanderingblindly]

humbly asking for directors commentary on all the starts we cannot see!!! no matter what section, i'll take anything :)

Omg thank you for asking about this fic!!!! I've done one director's cut on this before, where I discussed how it became a soulmate AU on accident, but!

I have more to say! <- personal thesis tbh

My Favorite, Easily Missed Bits:

One of my favorite -- but relatively inconsequential -- lines in the fic is actually the transition between two scenes:

A fist banged against the door, Max guiltily shoved his phone back into his pocket at the noise. Schooling his features, righting his posture, he stepped back into Jos’s version of himself. Another round on the sim, then.  — A gentle rap of knuckles against his door pulled him out of his mind. Standing and straightening his t-shirt nervously, he walked towards the entryway, pulling in a deep breath before opening the door. 

It's a small detail, but I loved how nicely it highlights the very obvious difference between the two of the main forces entering Max's space/life: his father as a demanding, aggressive figure and Charles as a more gentle, understanding one. Somehow it very succinctly shows that Charles doesn't want to bombard into Max's life, doesn't want to burst into his personal bubble and assume he's welcome, which stands in such stark contrast to Jos.

Another small moment/line I really loved is:

He was inviting Max into an important, personal part of him, both into his home and onto his bench. Maybe they were one in the same to him, like Max’s bedroom and his rooftop. To take his hand, to fail at something so important to Charles, could either be that simple? 

Thought this isn't like, vital to the progression of the plot or anything, I really enjoyed how it emphasizes Max's... seriousness, as a person. He wasn't allowed a normal childhood, wasn't allowed anything that would foster lightheartedness or safety, and therefore immediately appreciates the gravity of Charles's vulnerability.

Of course, we don't actually know if Charles feels that way about his piano bench. Perhaps he views it like how some view a kitchen -- welcoming, inviting, a place where everyone he loves should get to be. But to Max, somewhere that belongs solely to you is personal, and I think this scene demonstrates that well. (maybe?)

Regrets About It:

Originally, I fleshed out more of a backstory for Charles! I wanted to use him as a foil to Max in a few more ways, but the plot just didn't end up moving in that direction. Here are some of the character notes I had that, unfortunately, didn't make it in:

Charles has a strong established sense of self; he knows who he is, what he likes, who he loves, etc.. He doesn't feel like he exists at the universe's whims, he is he own person

This was designed to be in contrast to how Max feels like fate just sort of... drags him around and kicks him while he's down. It's not that Max has a victim complex relating to Jos, per se, it's more that he feels helpless to escape the life that fate handed him. He feels doomed to live in the confines of what he's been dealt, whereas Charles doesn't.

However:

He's still fearful that one day he won’t be able to do what he loves anymore (piano), but has reached a stage of acceptance and appreciation for what he has now. His chronic illnesses, though a burden to his loved ones (in his eyes), is just a hurdle he can overcome and find happiness around.

Both Charles and Max have been through immense hardship as it pertains to their goals, passions, and personal lives. I thought Charles being in a positive place of acceptance and self-accommodation (warm clothing, taking breaks when needed, etc.) could contrast nicely to Max, who feels much more... mixed about his situation.

I also had this note, which I don't think really made it into their dynamic. The story, as always, had a mind of its own lol:

Charles is quiet, more of an observer. Max, surprisingly, drives a lot of their conversations. You wouldn’t expect it for someone that has his backstory (which Charles doesn’t know yet), but it’s the people pleasing survival instinct in him

[badpanduhmemes]

A Quick Fanfic (TeenShen Birthday) Girl is nice to him

Here is yet another fanfic. This was supposed to be part of a collection of short Shen-centric shorts that went absolutely nowhere.

ShenXoc? I guess? Someone's nice to him on his birthday.

@notsosqueakiclean it's the closest to a true honest ShenXoc fic I currently have. I hope the tag is okay. Apologies if it's not. I can untag you.

Painted by the Stars

Shen wings were in front of him, a sign to those who knew him that he was nervous, though he, himself, was utterly oblivious of his parent's scrutiny, or the Soothesayer's thoughtful brown eyes, watching him from a short ways off was neither here nor there.

It was an old habit, a subconscious way in which he shielded himself the world around him, and it was not a terrible way to conceal a few knives in his feathers every once awhile. A pity he did not have them on him now, but it couldn't be helped, yet he felt their absence.

He flexed his wing feathers trying to ease the tension that had stiffened his shoulders, and settled like a heavy hot glede in his breast.

It was his birthday, and a banquet was being held in his honour, but it was more than that, and that's what niggled uncomfortably. From various neighbouring provinces young lords and ladies were in attendance, in the hopes that future friendships, and alliances would be made. It was chance for his peers to meet him, and for him to meet a few potential future spouses.

Peahens were in attendance, in a wide array of dazzling colours. Some were slightly younger than him, and a few were older. All of them were beautiful and a few were stunning. There were ladies of other origins as well; monals, dholes, a pair of tragopan hens, any of whom or all of whom could have made a suitable match, perhaps. There were lords and ladies from neighbouring cities, and provinces, and of course Gongmen City's aristocrats and their children had all been invited to celebrate his special day.

Him, who stood out in stark contrast against the brilliant colours of the hall, and his family's guests. Ugly, austere, the colour of death, prone to occasional bouts of ill health, and considered to be a bad omen, his only saving grace was his birth right, and the title that came with it. It was the only reason gifts were being brought to him, and the only reason why everyone in attendance had satiated their appetites dumplings and partaken in longevity noodles.

He'd barely been able to eat his own longevity noodle, coiled in the bowl that been placed before him, when anxiety sat so heavily in his stomach, it crowded out all sensation of hunger. The dumplings, he hadn't bothered with.

Music played gently, and as the time feasting waned, people were walking about, mingling and dancing. At length he'd gotten up to mingle, partly out of genuine desire to strike up a conversation with one of the peahens he'd been keeping a loose eye on, but more so because it was required.

He was to be a lord someday and courtesy was to be his cloak and dagger, and this party the first of many battlefields, to be won with courtly subterfuge, and gallant smiles. Forcing himself to swallow his nerves, he joined the fray poised and regal as any noble.

All the while his attention was turned partly toward the lady that had caught his eye. She was pretty peahen, perhaps a year or so younger than himself, and likely one of the few he had even a faint hope of striking a conversation with. They formed gaggles, talking and laughing amongst themselves in formidable groups he was unwilling to approach. But whenever he was waylaid by well wishes from other nobles he paused to acknowledge them, thanking them for visiting, and enquiring after their trip to the palace, their health, and maybe taking an additional few moments to discuss anything that might have caught his interest or piqued his curiosity.

The young peahen he'd been watching meandered her way to a small to a small group of young ladies, and Shen inwardly frowned. She was speaking to a pair of monal hens that he guessed were sisters, and a monkey. It wasn't as bad as a group of peahens, but nerves made his skin flushed and he opted to continue his conversation with a dhole who was prattling on about a cousin of his that had fallen into a river.

The dhole laughed and Shen took that as his cue, uttering a series of manufactured chuckles that sounded genuine.

"And then you know what?" The dhole added merrily. "He tripped again!" They pair of them laughed more, and Shen decided that he would speak to her: the pretty young peahen with the aqua face and green plumage.

It hadn't been terrible a conversation, but all around him he could hear the whispers, and criticisms, and one brief interlude with the dhole boy could not stave them off completely, and they burned his ears as he made his way toward the girl. Words peeled open scabs across his heart, and once again the dribbled and wept as he carried on.

He would not let the rumours of albinism, and being a bad omen get the best of him. Not tonight, so he did what he had learned to do early on, he buried the pain deep and paid the lacerations no mind, because he knew he'd get angry if he didn't, and his temper had begun to burn on a progressively shortening fuse over the years.

To his chagrin a few other peahens had joined the one he wanted to talk to, as had a peacock who was definitely a few years older than him with a train much longer, that glided in glittering gold irradiance winking like the son over forest greens, and soft sky blues, and dark eyes spots, that even folded Shen envied the sight of.

One of monals spotted him approaching, and there was no altering his course. They now knew he was coming. Them, the monkey, the peahens, and the peacock he could not hopelessly compare to, knew he was approaching, and as they continued to speak with each other, he could imagine the insults. He was a freak among his own kind, and everyone knew, especially the peahens who preferred men of brilliant colours.

And with a peacock there to paint so stark a difference his own sickly appearance made, before their eyes, he had no hope of attracting any of them. Title, inheritance, and his family's prestige would not save him here. Not anymore, and heart was hammering uncomfortably fast as he walked up to them.

They were all watching him when he paused before them, giving a light bow out of respect to his guests, though it was hardly necessary.

Their gazes were a mix of manufactured neutrality and curiosity, the only exception being a peahen with a violet purple face that transitioned into bright spring greens and deeper emeralds at her collar. She didn't seem particularly impressed by the sight of him, but Shen looked away from her to face the peahen of aqua and green he'd been pursuing.

"Greetings, my lady," he offered her a faint smile, despite the cloying anxiety rising like bile to burn at the back of his throat. "I had hoped, you might do me the honour of walking with me?"

Her green eyes, darted side to side, suddenly unnerved and uncertain, and quite possibly embarrassed by the idea that she had caught the eye of the resident freak. It was enough to rankle him, and enough to make carefully bound anger squirm under his foot.

The violet faced peahen murmured darkly to her quiet uncomfortable companion, while the teal faced girl lifted her chin.

"Please pardon me my lord," she spoke in a soft warbling whimsical voice that grated on his nerves. "I'm honoured you sought me out, but the festivities have worn me out and I was giving my friends short farewells, before retiring."

Her words were neatly packaged in politeness, but he had no doubt is was a flagrant lie on her part. But even as he opened his beak to wish her a pleasant evening, the older purple faced peahen behind her said something to her pink faced companion, and the word 'albino' did reach his ears.

Already, embarrassed and irritated, it struck a nerve, and one of his taloned feet clenched as he turned his attention to her, and she met his gaze with a steely glare of her own, as if silently daring him to say something.

He was keenly aware of the eyes on him. The peahens he was talking to, but a few other young lords and noble ladies in the vicinity were watching on the side lines, as he grappled with his rising ire.

From nearby he heard, "must be brain dead too" and to have intellect question on top of his physical health and hideous appearance, was a line crossed, and for a brief terrifying moment he saw red, and the polite air around him evaporated, as he opened his beak to offer a scathing retort.

But another voice spoke. Deep melodious, with the even temper of a slow river, that feminine voice flooded the turbulent silence.

"It's a rare and unusual think for stars to fall the heavens, and even rarer still for those stars to rise again, and walk among us. But the very eyes of the cosmos, have seen fit to grace one of our own in such brilliance. Look at him. Truly look at him, and tell him his feathers are not bright enough to match them. I know we peafowl are prideful, and I of course am no exception, but if the stars themselves have found him worthy of wearing their light so absolutely and unbrokenly, then I cannot imagine the measure of hubris required to tell them they were wrong."

Shen's heart stopped. The stars themselves have found him worthy. His mouth closed. His anger vanished, as that rive-water-voice washed over him, smoothing over the sharp edges of his wrath, and soothing frayed nerves.

"If it's not too bold: this creature of earth and water, would be flattered and honoured, if the celestial being standing before her, would lead her through a dance."

Eyes wide, heart racing, Shen turned to face the peahen who had spoken, and his mouth turned dry.

Her face was corn flower blue, and it darkened to true royal blue at her collar, but the wing feathers, peeping at him from under her sleeve were an ashy brown, but there upon her head, the small plume of feathers, were gold as if she'd been crowned by the sun itself, and that gilded golden hue winked at him from the feathers along her throat, like the sun on the sea.

She was stunning, beautiful, and Shen's mind had seized as he stared at her. He'd seen her from a window when guests had started arriving, and he'd thought her beautiful even then, but at least three or four years older than him, gorgeous he'd written her off as unobtainable. No peahen so beautiful could have found anything attractive in him. It wasn't possible.

Behind him he heard a scoff, and a few infuriated hisses from the peahens behind him, peahens he no longer cared about, and something spiteful, bold, and vindictive, rose up to grab him by the neck, as it compelled him forward, and before he could he could think through the consequences of his actions, he stepped toward her.

"Yes," he raised his head emboldened by the faint smile that curled the corners of her beak. The crest on his head rose, and for the first time the entire evening his wings settled at his sides. "Yes I would."

She bowed before him, the waves of the sea winking at him from her feathers as she dipped and then rose. The azure silk of her gold embroidered sleeve shifted, as she took the wing he offered her.

All eyes, were on them, on him with this stunning peahen walking bold and confident beside him, seemingly unashamed to be in his presence, and Shen's head was reeling, unable to figure out when his birthday had turned into a dream. He must have gotten sick and passed out or fainted in embarrassment, but it hardly mattered, as his feet had seemingly taken control of him, guiding the two of them forward unto they found spot for a short dance.

"As hard as it may be, try not to hold it against them. Peahens at that age have not learned how to see beyond their eyes. Regrettably some of them never will, but there will be others who grow up and grow wiser. You need only be patient."

The stars have found him worthy. Over and over those words rolled across his mind. The stars found him worthy.

"Is it true?" He asked. Have the stars found me worthy? And if they have could I not be worth of you.

As if guessing his line of thought she smiled. They paused in their danced, her eyeing him with a shrewd blue eyes, while he held his breath.

"Is there a place we could speak more privately?" She finally asked.

Shen paused, suddenly on edge and nervous. He looked around surveying the room. His parents were watching them from afar, and for a brief moment he met their gazes. It was hard to see if they were proud, but they had taken a keen interest in his sudden change in fortune. Perhaps they were hopeful that this peahen might be a future spouse in the making? A part of would not have been displeased with such an arrangement, but her desire to talk in private worried him.

She called him a star, but instead he felt like a minnow being pulled along a current too powerful for him to swim against, leading him toward something that seemed genuinely promising, but potentially terrifying. What if all he was met with was some deep dark abyss? He had no way of knowing where the current of her thought patters was ultimately going to lead him, but part of him wanted to know, needed irrationally to know, whether or not she spilled empty pretty words into his ear, or if there was genuine merit in them.

Knowing he couldn't be alone with her, unchaperoned, he kept a firm grip on her wing as he approached a wolf guard.

"We're heading to that balcony, and our handlers are elsewhere." He gestured at the assembly. "Please accompany us, and stand guard in the doorway."

The wolf nodded and fell into step beside them. Asking one of the wolves to join them served two functions, it would reassure their parents they weren't engaging in anything inappropriate, and the wolf would likely keep them from being disturbed. He walked her to the far end, in an attempt to make it as seemingly private as possible, but with the wolf a yard or so away it was a hopeless endeavour.

He released his hold on her, and turned to face her.

The stars found him worthy, but had they really?

"Please, tell me if what you said is true." Deep down he knew it wasn't, but for some reason, some fervent, masochistic reason, he needed to hear say that it wasn't or more of her sweet lies until he could believe them.

"Yes and no." She looked away from him to stare at the palace grounds and the city stretched out beyond the walls. "I'm not sure it matters though. Sometimes we need hear a beautiful lie, to be reminded of a simple and obvious truth."

He glowered at her. He could appreciate the honesty, but the knowledge that her pretty words bore no substance and that she truly thought him ugly, hurt more than he could put words to. "And what truth would that be?" His eyes flickered eerily, but his voice was icy.

"In this case, that you are beautiful and you are worthy. It doesn't matter how or why, whether you're sickly or healthy, albino or bathed in starlight, only that you know beyond doubt that it is not your fault they can't see the value of your life behind your feathers. The fault is theirs and theirs alone."

His pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared as his throat burned. He reached out to grab her, the railing, something, and anything as the world tilted under his feet. Words failed him as he started coughing, nearly choking on the lump that had formed in his throat, and all the while he sensed her there, standing beside him, concerned and worried, and speaking to him.

The wolf guard rushed over, but regaining some sense of pride if not decorum, he waved the canine away.

"Are you alright?"

"Am I alright? He repeated, in a mental daze, as he grinned. "I'm better than that. I'm happy." His voice cracked as he let loose a fit of breathless laughter. She smiled nervously, but let him be; deciding he supposed, that if anything had been truly wrong with him, he wouldn't have shooed away the guard or that the wolf would have run off to get help.

Shen eventually calmed, after giving her a reassuring smile, that he was pleased to see returned, he turned toward the railing, and closed his eyes taking a deep breath. His heart felt lighter than it had all evening, and he sensed her shift beside him, and he cracked an eye open to watch her as she stared out over the palace court yard, before shutting his eye again and letting himself bask in the companionable silence that had settled over them.

Another birthday could have come and gone, but all too soon the silence broke, and the warm bubble Shen found himself standing in was rudely popped, by the clearing of a throat.

The wolf was standing there, ears folded back, and refusing to look at either of them.

"The young lady's parents have asked for her, and your absence my lord is being noted."

Both peafowl frowned, and Shen sighed. "We'll be there in a moment."

He glanced at the peahen next to him, and saw a faint glimmer of worry in them. "I hadn't realized we'd been away so long."

Shen scoffed. "It's been fifteen minutes at most."

"Yes, but even still…." She trailed off turning to leave. "We shouldn't keep them waiting."

"But what of you?" He caught her wing.

She look down at his wing feathers, wrapped around hers and then looked back to him. "What about me?" And Shen was at a loss. What could he say? Stay? Don't leave? They had only just met. They weren't engaged, and he had no idea whether or not their families would eve approve such a match. He begrudgingly realised he didn't even know her name. He just stared at her, mind racing, unwilling to let someone who had been so nice, suddenly walk away and out of his life, possibly never to return.

Something of his thoughts must have been on his face, because she tuned back toward him, giving his feathers a faint squeeze.

"You have other guests that you must tend to. I doubt my parents intend for us to leave so soon. We can speak more later." She offered him a reassuring smile. "But beyond this party and tomorrow, I don't know. So should this be goodbye, I want you to know that of all the constellations that exist you are my favourite." Something in Shen's chest cinched, strangling the air in his lungs. "And you're certainly the only one capable of carrying on pleasant conversation." She teased with a faint laugh. "But more importantly, when you are at your most desolate, cold, angry, frustrated, and alone, or when the world is at its most cruel, I want you to look up at the stars, and remember this moment: that you are worthy, valuable, and beautiful, because it is the memory of this moment the world will try to take away."

She gazed at him with worried eyes. "Do all you can not to let it, and then perhaps, if our mutual stars align, we'll meet again someday. But until then, I bid you farewell. Oh-" She paused as if just remembering something and offered him her warmest smile yet.

"Happy birthday."