#nor the knowledge of all their important big scars

[salllltie]

Day 13: Scars

reptiles shed their skin, so most of the scars are temporary. but the deep ones stay

[oneirataxia-girl]

⇝ DRABBLE -- The Faeries In The Woods

this is the first piece of writing i've done in MONTHS, @ariparri the cardverse au has me in a chokehold and this is the product of annoyed & tired alvita doing everything she can to get her mind off schoolwork, ended up writing the first draft in one day (???! i am astonished by this too) and uh yeah, it's rough it's not my usual style but hey, my writing skills are basically the equivalent of sandpaper in terms of roughness so it's definitely going to be bad no matter what lol quick author's note before we get started though: for those who've known me since my hphm phase, you might recognize the "faeries in the woods" as the arcane-zheng family who i criminally ignored in favor of building the alvina/talbott ship (yes i am aware that it was a mistake), but while the basic setup of the fae family is still the same, they all have completely different names which i hope i'll be able to introduce to you guys in a later piece; this is more like "setting the vibe" word vomit than anything tbh. but hope you guys enjoy!!

You're a child, barely able to run without stumbling once or twice; you've met the kids on either side of your house and the ones a little further away too, and you've all got the thirst for information your parents say is natural for a Club to have.

The forest has been off limits ever since you remember, but that doesn't stop you from running with your playmates to the clearing barely a one-minute walk in the woods, nor does it prevent the answering frenzy your parents were in to get you back to the village.

"Don't ever go near the place!" Your papa yells at you, "If the fairies --"

Your mama makes a noise you can't understand, and Papa stops talking in favor of trapping you in a big bear hug. You giggle and wrap your own arms around him too, and you forget all about the silver stars staring at you from the edge of the clearing.

You're older now, knobbly knees decorated with scrapes and bruises from your frequent meetings with the stony ground; your friends are older too, and you all start to wonder why the forest is always shrouded in the dark, even when the sun shines high in the noon sky.

Ma cuffs you on the head for asking, but you keep at it, chipping away at her resolve and Pa's in search of an answer.

Eventually, Pa tells you that all will be revealed when you're eleven.

Eleven? You're barely half past the age of eight! It's going to be ages until you learn anything about the forest.

Pa and Ma are always telling you to fight in your chase for knowledge, and this is something to learn, no? So in order to find your explanations, you gather your best friends and pool your wits together to pursue the thing your family and kingdom puts so much importance on: answers.

Your merry troop marches on the pebble-lined path into the forest as soon as your best friend and a boy you don't like come up with a plan.

You come out of the forest drenched in red; some of it yours, most of it from the barely-breathing boy being rushed to the medical building.

You're not a kid anymore now, scrapes long faded into light scars; not all of your friends are older, and you wonder if the one that is gone was taken away by the faeries.

Faeries, not fairies, because you know now that the things lurking in the trees aren't sparkling-winged fairies ready to grant you a wish, but monsters with silver eyes and teeth stained crimson with the blood of their victims. Pa tells you this while Ma rolls up her left sleeve for the first time in your memory to show you the scars she got from the fae family -- probably the mother of the current set of spawn, she tells you.

"How do you know?" You ask her, leaning your head on her lap.

Ma lifts her arm, the raised skin of the healed wound darker than the rest of her skin, "No animal has claws that can do this kind of damage, Darling."

Your forehead wrinkles as you take in this information, and presently you ask whether it could be a weapon.

Pa shakes his head this time.

"If it was a person, they would've been found soon after they went into the forest," He tells you.

"Maybe they're very sneaky," You argue, "Or maybe they always get in and out from the Spades' side of the woods."

But even as you speak the words, you know that they were just that: words.

No human has stayed in the forest for over a day and survived. The longest surviving one was Ma, trapped in a bog for about sixteen hours on a forage for herbs.

Pa pulls aside later to tell you that when they found her, she was muttering about silver-eyed fae and how they gave her a "message to deliver."

She doesn't remember any of that.

You're tying your bootlaces by yourself now, mentally cataloging the plants you're supposed to provide to help make the prototype for a new distress signal; your friends have all grown up as well, some of them left the village for bigger things and some stayed behind with you, none of them are willing to go back to the forest without a weapon by their side anymore.

Can't fault them, you're the same, too.

The only stars you see are the ones in the night sky, fiery balls of gas that live light years away from the small village on this side of the Clubs-Spades border, and you're forcibly reminded of a time when silver stars plague your head.

You shake said head before you stand up to walk towards the academic buildings. The doctors said it'd get better in time, but sometimes you feel like it's only getting worse.

As you kick away stones in your trot, you bump into a girl -- short and thin, with a mane of dark hair that reaches her waist, she turns around and you take note of the dark shades hiding her eyes and the shaky step she takes to get away from you.

A green cape covers most of her top half and you frown when you notice that both the green fabric and the dark tights she wears are ripped. Did she run away from home? Why was she wearing dark glasses?

"Irene!" Comes a call, you turn to see a older guy with the same dark glasses stride towards the girl. His clothes were also worn, and you catch a few sympathetic glances thrown their way by some of your fellow villagers.

Not from the village, that much was clear. Maybe they were running away from Spades, you hear that they're in terrible turmoil and its people are leaving in whatever way possible.

All hearsay though, no evidence has ever come by to confirm this.

The guy throws an arm around the girl and you notice that he has the same twig-like frame, barely a head taller than the girl; he has the same messy hair though, and he barely spares you a glance before dragging his sister away.

You watch their backs retreat, and you notice that their feet don't make a sound on the gravel ground.

You shrug your shoulders and continue on your way, pebbles crunching underfoot as you walk.

Perhaps the refugee rumors are true after all.

You're finally allowed to drink in the open now, grin wide as you accept your first glass of beer from your ma and act as if you aren't used to the bitter taste linger after you swallow; your friends cheer and clap you on your back, even the ones that went to the big cities, for everyone still alive had come back to celebrate your birthday. You clink your glass with a shy smile at one of your best friends and tip your head back to chug the rest of the beer in one go.

Pa gives you a suspicious look. You try coughing to pretend that it didn't go down like water. It doesn't seem to work, but he only brings a finger to his lips and turns away.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Second, third, and fourth mugs of beer come and go; you toss jokes and barbs at your friends and shrug off their laughing sneers. Conversation flows like your drinks and it eventually follows dirt-strewn trails to the shadowy woods just a few steps from the village borders.

"You remember the faeries our parents used to scare us with?" One of your friend asks, cheeks ruddy from the alcohol.

They've come back from the city just for your birthday, so you bite your lip and stifle the urge to correct their mistake.

Another one of your friends does it for you, this one having lived in the house a five-minute walk from yours for their whole life; it sparks a debate whether there is anything in the forest other than the typical trees that make one lose all sense of direction and odd creatures.

Silver stars blink on the very edge of your vision. You turn around and see nothing but yellow light bathing your party. You turn back and ignore the feeling of something watching you.

Feelings -- such fickle things, you muse, making think there hid things when there are none. No wonder why your kingdom stresses the importance of logic and reasoning.

A fist punches your shoulder, it's your best friend, smile as lopsided as the day you two met, "What do you think? You reckon faeries live there?"

The rest of the chatter dies, eyes waiting for your answer expectantly.

Licking your lips, you hesitate to give an answer. You still recall the silver stars bursting in your head and the wails of your friends, but they seem sharper than they should be, and the stars now just seem like normal migraine-induced sights.

The window allows you to look out at the forest. It's as dark and gloomy as always, not a lick of life shakes its leaves.

Then, your mug crashes onto the floor.

Three -- no, four -- figures emerge from the depths of the woods, three of them with silver stars for eyes; the last one to emerge stands still while the six silver stars blink in unison, the only one to have the faint outline of their silhouette be the only thing separating them from the night.

You hear an exhale close to your ear and you realize that everyone has piled up behind you. It's your ma, she has a hand on your shoulder and you spot the scars running down her arm when your turn your head to look at her.

Her grip on your shoulder tightens and her face goes pale. Whirling your head back to the clear glass, you see six silver eyes pointing directly at you.

A drum starts pounding in your head, so you close your eyes for a fraction of a second to shush it. You open your eyes to meet a sea of black outside your window.

Nothing was left of the four creatures, not even a crunch of a footstep.

A beat.

"What," Someone finally says, "Was that?"

You want to say it was the faeries, but those are anything but fae.

You're woken up by the sound of shouting now, and you leap out of bed when the iron tang of blood assaults your nose.

Bootlaces untied, you run out to carnage: you think someone screams when you see Ma lying on the floor motionless, and you follow the direction of the scars on her arm to see Pa.

Their fingers just barely brush each others'.

Your throat burns a white-hot pain and you crumple to the floor and you crawl to the window to see bodies on the gravel ground. You slide down and close your eyes and beg for this to be just a beer-induced nightmare.

A resounding boom shakes your eardrums and your stomach drops further when you register where the sound came from:

The distress signal. The one you helped to make.

Shouts turn to cries and whimpers and gasps, and then even those are cut off. You glance at Grandma's door and decide you don't want to open it.

Nothing disturbs the gravel path before the front gate squeaks open. You press yourself closer to the wall.

Moonlight bleeds into the room as the front door clicks open, you wonder whether you'll be able to make a run for it.

"Swear I could hear a heartbeat in here."

"Don't these --" You watch as someone seemingly nudges your ma's top half -- "have a kid? You two saw them before, right?"

You think you would remember seeing monsters with silver eyes --

oh.

You did see them before, they just weren't dumb enough to show their eyes.

A cry leaves you as the collar of your jacket yanks you up. Six silver eyes blink at you.

"Sorry," No flash of fangs glitter from the speaker's mouth, "Blame your friend for this."

You struggle and claw at the vice grip on your collar tightening.

You sputter as you suddenly drop to the ground. You think you see white lights and you wonder if you've joined your family as shouts grow near.

Something is shoved in your mouth and you want to wail as the bitter taste of the thing infects your mouth.

A blinding glare shoots through every opening your home has. The three creatures hiss and crouch down to escape the light. They start talking, and you work on getting the foul-tasting thing out of your mouth.

A growl jerks you from your endeavor. You see the smallest of the three standing.

"It's the only way." One of the other two states simply.

The small one scoffs and the light turns her dark hair into a rippling waterfall, "Don't tell me you think we can't take a couple more humans out."

The other speaker turns her head to look at you -- silver stars framed by wide eyes, no flash of teeth when she opens her mouth to say -- "There's only going to be more of them the longer we stay."

"So we should all go!"

"Too dangerous," It's the guy, the one who dragged his younger sister away that time you bumped into her. She's the one they're convincing to do something.

You don't catch the rest of the conversation, your eyes are getting heavier by the second, everything's gone out of focus...

The last thing you hear is a chilling howl, and the last thing you see is Ma offering her scarred arm for you to grab.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Looking for Help

Thorns & Jasmine

In which Aska goes to find help.

Warnings: None

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“Marian, Marian, there’s a plant creature at the river.”

Marian turned towards the boy running quickly into her direction while shouting at the top of his lungs. Not that this was unusual, Luke came running at least every second day, excited over something he had found or seen.

“Do you mean Caldyn?” she asked.

“No, of course not. I know Caldyn,” Luke said with righteous indignation in his voice. “It’s a small one. Like a dog? But it’s all leafy!”

Aska? Marian furrowed her brows. She’d seen the dog before, but Caldyn didn’t bring it often. He had told her that the dog liked neither the river nor too many people, so he preferred to leave it at his cave. Perhaps he was coming to visit and the dog had run ahead? It could be an explanation, but it didn’t seem very plausible.

“Thank you, William, exactly like that. I’ll check back tonight,” she said, turning her attention back to the man she had been speaking to before Luke had shouted her name.

William nodded, already weighing the hammer in his hand and eyeing the hut he was about to fix up. It had been standing empty for a while, and wind and rain had dislodged a part of its roof. But now she was expecting a new resident to arrive in a few weeks, and she wanted to make sure they’d find more than a drafty home and waterlogged furniture when they arrived.

“I’ll check it out. Thank you, Luke.”

It wasn’t like she had anything important to do, so she might as well go and see what this was about. If it was Caldyn and Aska, she could meet them halfway to the village. If it wasn’t… well, she’d see, then.

She followed the path out of the settlement, along the river. The fog still hadn’t lifted fully, but she could see some steps ahead. She could even make out the other shore, and after a few minutes, the shape of a small creature running along. It barked as it noticed her, and she recognized the familiar shimmer of green leaves on its body.

It was alone, and it was agitated. Marian’s stomach dropped as she realized that Caldyn was nowhere to be seen. The last time it had behaved like this had been the day she had met this strange kalani for the first time. He had fallen into the river, had been separated from his pet. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been a bit cautious at first. Despite living in the Wilds for a decade already, she had never gotten to know any of their people, only met them in passing. It hadn’t taken long for her to realize that the differences between her kind and his weren’t so big after all.

She hadn’t hesitated to invite him to visit their village, and been so happy when he had followed their invitation. She had never asked what had happened, why he had left his home and his people behind, but even her little knowledge about his kind was enough to recognize the scars on his body. It made her heart ache to think about it, to imagine that someone had hurt him. There was a kindness to him, in the way he always offered to help, in his quiet smile, enjoying when those around him were happy. And she could tell that he was lonely. Sometimes he visited, just to sit somewhere for a while, to listen to the people of Murkside going about their days.

Marian really hoped nothing had happened to him.

As soon as she arrived at the spot where Caldyn usually crossed the river, she pushed all those thoughts aside. It wasn’t too deep, but on a day as cool as this, Marian wasn’t exactly looking forward to getting drenched. As she stared into the water, trying to figure out how deep it was, she saw the outline of a huge rock. It would have been nice if it was closer, larger, then she could get to the other side without sinking into the water up to her chest. Really, really nice.

Marian raised her hand towards the rock, concentrating. It was harder if she wasn’t touching the ground, but seeing the target of her magic could work. She could feel the rock, most of it still buried deep in the riverbed, and the earth that surrounded it. There was a second rock, fully buried under a thin layer of silt. If she could get it up, if she could get both up a bit, just a bit…

She turned her hand, concentrating, feeling the earth shift as she pushed. The water became cloudy and she closed her eyes, no longer able to see what she was doing, but feeling it. The buried rock rose, shifting away from the one only half embedded in the ground. They drifted apart, the hollow beneath them filling with water first, then with earth as the ground itself shifted to hold them in place. Then the larger one cracked, a piece splitting off, sinking slowly to the ground. She pushed it further, then buried it, halfway between the large boulder and the other shore.

After she had made sure that all three rocks were sitting firmly in the ground, Marian let go of her magic and opened her eyes. She never crossed the river herself, so she hadn’t thought of that, but it might make it easier for Caldyn, too. The thought of the kalani made her smile falter and she gathered her skirts, lifting them as she stepped into the water. Balancing from rock to rock, the water reached only up to above her knees; still unpleasant, but better than getting fully wet.

The moment she arrived on the other shore, the little dog came running up to her. After greeting her excitedly, sniffing her wet shoes, it started to run, only to stop after a few steps, looking back at her.

“I’m coming,” she said, not sure if the creature would be able to understand her words. If it didn’t, it seemed to at least understand their meaning, for it ran on and Marian tried her best to keep up. She only knew Caldyn lived in a cave, somewhere on this side of the river, but he had never shown it to her.

It wasn’t easy to run through the forest like that. Where the dog could slip through narrow spots or under low branches, she had to find her way around, all while she tried not to get her skirts or shawl entangled somewhere. When Aska finally stopped, she was out of breath, her skin sticky with sweat and the moisture the fog left behind.

“Well… where is he?” Marian asked, looking around.

Aska sat at the foot of what seemed to be a cliffside, stretching to both sides. The ground was barren here, the nearest trees a good three steps away from the rock. The dog whined, rising onto its hind legs, front paws on the wall. Finally Marian looked up, only to see the dark opening of a cave, a bit higher than she was tall.

“Is he up there?”

Of course, there was no reply.

“Caldyn?” she called out, listening.

There was no reply, either, and her worry grew. If he was there, what had happened that he couldn’t even reply to her? Only one way to find out.

She stepped up to the wall, trying to find a way to get up. As much as she liked rock, this seemed impractical. There were some shallow ridges and edges, but she wasn’t exactly a good climber, and wearing a long skirt was no help, either. For a moment, she wondered how Caldyn might have gotten up, before she realized that he was way taller than she was, and could probably grab the edge of the cave easily.

Tracing the rock, she had another idea. What had worked at the river might work here as well. She just had to be way more careful. As she moved her hand across the surface, she closed her eyes, listening within. She wasn’t a particularly powerful earth mage, but she could feel… she didn’t even know how to put it into words. It was like the nature of the earth, the mood. It was stable, it wouldn’t mind her pulling a bit, forming a step or two. Nevertheless, she kept alert as she started to form the rock, to shape a small ledge at the height of her knee, then another one at the height of her hip. When the earth stayed calm, she added two more.

When she opened her eyes, she found the dog staring at her and smiled.

“I’m checking, okay? If he’s up there, I’ll help him.”

She could only hope she wasn’t promising too much.

Climbing up was hard, even with the additional ledges, and she cursed under her breath as her toes got caught in her skirt. Then, finally, she had made it up, pulling herself over the ledge.

There wasn’t much light falling into the cave, but enough to see the motionless figure lying on the floor. She instantly recognized green bark and brown leaves and scrambled to her feet, hurrying over.

“Caldyn?” she asked again, her voice strained.

There was no reaction, not until she knelt down next to him, reaching for his shoulder to turn him around. Then he screamed, struggling to get away from her, and she quickly pulled her hand back, her heart racing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s me. Marian.”

He didn’t seem to hear her, trying to curl up, to hide his face. He was shaking, and the sounds he made were foreign and familiar at the same time; they spoke of fear and sadness.

At least he was alive, but whatever it was that he was trapped in, she had to help him. He didn’t seem to be hurt, at least not at first glance; there was a shimmer of gold on his left arm, and for a moment, she thought that it looked pretty, before she realized that this could very well be his kinds’ blood.

“Caldyn? It’s me, Marian. There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.” That she even had to say those words made her feel sick; that they didn’t seem to help at all even more. “Aska went to get me, so I came. I’m here to help you, but I don’t know how.”

For a moment, she had the feeling that his posture went from doesn’t-hear-a-thing terrified to tries-to-listen terrified, but she couldn’t be sure. He didn’t reply to her words, if he even understood them. Perhaps he needed something more familiar than a human voice.

“I’ll try to get Aska up here, alright?”

Marian didn’t even hope for a reply this time. As she took a step to the side, her foot touched something, sending it rolling over the rough floor. She looked around until she found the object, roughly half the size of her head. She picked it up.

A hollow pumpkin, with an opening at one end, framed with something she couldn’t make out in the dark. Some kind of container perhaps, or a bottle?

Could he have been too sick to leave his cave, and run out of water? She had no idea how long a kalani could survive without it, or how long he was lying here already, and she couldn’t expect to get a clear answer out of him. She would get some, Marian decided, and see if it helped. If it didn’t… well it would do no harm, either.

“Caldyn? I’ll get you some water. I will come back, I promise.”

She wasn’t sure if he had heard her or understood her words, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She picked up the cork, lying on the floor next to her, and walked back to the cave entrance, to climb down; to do the one thing she could do, that might help — hopefully.

The dog was still waiting below, now watching Marian as she jumped to the ground.

“You want to get up to your friend, don’t you?”

Marian only hesitated for a moment. What if the dog usually didn’t go up into the cave, what if it would hurt itself if it jumped down? But there was no way to get the answer to that, either, and the way Aska clawed at the rock told her that it really wanted to get up, used to it or not.

She placed the canteen on the floor, reaching out for the dog. It didn’t even hesitate, it almost crawled into her arms, holding still as she rose.

“Okay, I have no idea how this will work, but…”

She lifted the dog higher, glad that it was only small. Leafy paws scratched over her chest and shoulders, finding something to step on. Then the dog climbed her head, pulling her hair, making her wince. But it worked, somehow, and with a last struggle, and a scratch that would surely bleed across her forehead, it scrambled into the cave.

As she picked up the canteen, Marian listened, but there was only the quiet sound of paws, then nothing. She sighed, looking at the canteen in her hand. Where should she get water? No human would just pick water from one of the many rivers, not if they didn’t want to spend a day or two in the outhouse, but kalani? Marian decided to be safe rather than sorry, to fetch the water at the well in the settlement. She might as well bring some food and a blanket or two as well, even if she didn’t know if it would help.

The way back to the river took Marian a bit longer. Not sure which way the dog had led her, Marian followed the cliff until it met the water, then turned upstream until she found the spot where she could cross it. She hurried along the path, going straight into her house as soon as she had reached Murkside.

She grabbed a blanket, then another, stuffing both into a tattered bag that was lying on the floor, usually used to transport research material to the ravine and back. Caldyn’s canteen in one hand, one of her own waterskins in another, she went to the well, filling them both. Deciding against going to the cook and possibly answering questions, she took whatever food she had in her house. She found an almost full loaf of bread and some cold roast, wrapping both carefully into some cloth before putting it into the bag with the rest.

Before she left, she placed a note on the desk.

[I’m with Caldyn. He isn’t well.

I might stay for a while.

There is no danger, don’t worry.

🌹]

[ID: The top image is a banner showing red, glowy plants. Across it   is written the title of the story, Thorns & Jasmine, in a bright to dark green gradient. The letters are slightly thorny looking. All other  images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup​​​​ @whump-cravings​​​​​

[elytrafemme]

wizard ranboo :0 or cbeeduo marriage anniversary :D whichever u like more!

There are many pieces of Ranboo’s past lost to time and the abrupt fade of his memory.

For one, where he came from. All he can recall are the vague shapes of End Cities, places that he has never actually seen himself but Phil had told him about, weaving story-like tales of his experience there before the End had been sealed off by an immortal. He can’t remember his family, either, if he even had one. He doesn’t know what the other side of his body is, the part that’s pale white with a red eye and dark scars, and nothing in the Overworld nor the Nether can trigger familiarity within him.

The things that make him nostalgic are very varied things. The certain curve of a sword that Techno was smithing, once. The mannerisms and language that Endermen speak, which is a much more obvious association. And, most relevant now, spell-tomes.

Magic is a strange concept. Not everyone has a capacity for it, though many would argue that magic is technically everywhere. There are what the gods do, which Ranboo would not consider magic, necessarily, more just… divine manipulation of earthly objects, or something like that. It’s a matter of semantics, but with magic, the details are important.

There are objects, technically, like the Elytra, that could be argued to be magical. Ranboo’s asked Phil about that, too, but he’s never been able to give Ranboo a clear answer on what Elytras really are. And, well, the only person he knows with wings is Hannah, and Ranboo can’t remember the last time he’s seen her around.

That’s another question, though, the Egg. Technically, the Egg could also be magic. That’s a question that Ranboo has not gone out of his way to solve, though, left it to Fundy in his endless attempts to destroy the vines, and whoever is part of the Eggpire.

Regardless of where it exists within the world, magic is definitely a thing. Even if all the Overworld occurrences could be written off as several leaps in logic or the act of a single god, the abilities that Ranboo carries with him from the End (or, the origin land of his other half) can only be defined as magic.

He’s in Snowchester when it all hits him at once.

Tubbo’s asleep upstairs in Michael’s room– he’s been having difficulty sleeping, lately, but he always falls asleep quickly when he’s in Tubbo’s arms– and Ranboo has a day off work and isn’t that tired, so he finds himself sitting beside one of the many tall bookshelves within their mansion, reading about magic.

Magic doesn’t cover Ranboo’s ability to grab objects in their purest form without tainting them, he learns. However, the other strange things he can do are described by magic, something that he hadn’t really realized. Ever since he first noticed he could do these things back in New L’manberg, he had written it off as some strange hybrid trait– which, technically he’s right– but since he knew shapeshifters like Quackity and immortals like Phil and Techno, he sort of figured that it wasn’t a big deal.

But, no. It’s magic.

The vividness of his dreams, all set in a place far away from here, some other universe that he shouldn’t have the knowledge of. The way that his non-Ender fingertips can create fire out of nothing in all the moments he can’t externalize his emotions otherwise. He is unusually good with predicting the weather, and knowing where diamonds are located by the block, and potion-making; there’s an instinct in him always nagging, and whatever it tells him, it usually ends up being right.

All signs of magic. All signs of drawing from the matter in other universes, or having a keen sense of the universe he’s already in, to do something that defies physics and the logic of mortals. Acts that are separated from divinity, acts that can be found in a certain cluster of species that have long since vanished. Not necessarily Endermen, but no specification at all.

Ranboo will have to ask the Council later.

Right now, he’s mostly concerned about processing this all-in-all.

It’s a little stressful, to be honest. Having a name for it. Because, yes, it’s nice to not be entirely in the dark here, it’s nice to have some sort of idea of what these strange things can be called, but it’s strange to reconcile his past panic over his nightmares and a fear as recent as yesterday about his ability to create fire and just… accept that this is all magic, something that is literally extinct and almost ancient, and just handle that.

It raises so many more questions about his past. He’s sure the Council will help, but still– how does he process the idea that magic comes from a group of people who have vanished? How does magic pass through someone at all? Surely it’s biological, judging by the little information he’s read regarding its passage, but it also mentions the idea of bonding with someone. So had Ranboo just found close companionship with someone, miraculously forgotten their identity, and obtained their magic? Does that mean Michael can have magic? Are there consequences for having magic? Ranboo really does not want to deal with gods being mad at him, he’s supposedly on fine terms with the Goddess of Death but he’s not very keen on many others and he knows little about the Church of Prime-

-and further, following the previous point (one of them, anyway, he’s not sure where this all started), if this is from a biological thing, does this mean his family is gone? He always sort of figured that his family might be dead, but since they are most likely Endermen, they should have a longer lifespan, and in the End there really isn’t much to be afraid of except for people trying to conquer it, and the End is sealed off, and Phil never mentioned any mass genocide of Endermen or anything-

-is Ranboo even seventeen? He thought he was seventeen, but that was sort of just a hunch, and Ranboo gets a lot of wrong hunches- wait, no, he’s magical, he doesn’t. He usually gets correct hunches, but like, what if he’s actually 500 years old in Endermen years and just forgot about that? What if he’s ageless? He hasn’t died before, he has no idea how this works, if he can even die at all. How do you tell if you’re immortal?

This has nothing to do with magic. The point is- no, actually, what is the point? He thinks the point of all of this is the fact that he is most likely the offspring of some group of people across two different species that are both, or at least one of them, part of a population that vanished, and he somehow got magic. What if both of his parents are magic? He doesn’t think he can, like, rip through the fabrics of the universe, so maybe he’s not all that magic, actually. He probably isn’t that magical. But he could be.

What’s the point of all of this? So what, he can do magic. Does that have to mean anything? He’s still a husband and a father and works at a burger van and has no memory and… and all of that, so it’s not like he’s any different, now. But what if he is?

Phil told him a while ago about this concept of ‘birth certificates’. From what Ranboo understands, those would really come in handy right about now, when he’s spiraling about whether or not he’s actually 500 years old and maybe wasn’t even born at all.

Could he be a lab experiment?

Oh, he should go back to the lab, shouldn’t he? That would help.

… That has nothing to do with magic, actually, why would that-

“Ranboo?”

Ranboo looks up to see Tubbo staring at him, clearly extremely tired and probably confused as to why his husband is sitting silently in the corner, staring at his hands as if he just killed someone. To be fair, Tubbo has found him in much more incriminating positions. At least Ranboo isn’t crying this time.

Ranboo gets up after a second, letting out a sigh. He watches the floor carefully. It does not set on fire. Okay, so maybe everything is okay. “Hi, Tubbo.”

Tubbo stares at him for another second, before sighing and walking over, grumbling sleepily and burying his face into Ranboo’s chest. He wraps his arms around him tightly, and Ranboo pats his head affectionately as Tubbo mumbles, “It’s fucking 2 AM, go to bed.”

“Michael’s okay?” Ranboo asks. Irrelevant to Tubbo’s question, but. He would like to know.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Asleep, now.” Tubbo sighs. “Got up to check if the front door was locked and saw you on my way back up. What are you doing?”

Ranboo takes a deep breath. Maybe now is a good time to be honest. He’s been working on that with Tubbo, the whole being open about things. Neither of them are very good at it, and Ranboo literally can’t talk about some of his stuff (as in, he tries, and his mouth just… shuts), but they’re figuring it out together. Maybe Ranboo should tell him about the magic stuff. Maybe Tubbo would know about it? He’s really smart and everything.

But maybe Tubbo would find Ranboo weird for it. They’ve been together for quite a bit, they’re coming up on their year anniversary of being married, and they’ve known each other for a bit beforehand, but what if Tubbo decides he draws the line at this? Could Ranboo blame him? Ranboo is now literally a fire hazard, and like, his magic is helping him find more diamonds, but maybe Tubbo doesn’t care about Ranboo’s wealth? No, what is Ranboo saying, they literally got married for tax benefits and then fell in love, what is he talking about?

Ranboo exhales, patting Tubbo’s head some more before he forces himself to say, “If I was a wizard, would you still love me?”

For a second, Tubbo stiffens and goes silent. After a few moments though, he relaxes, and Ranboo hears him laugh tiredly. “... What?”

“Just,” Ranboo sighs. Maybe now was a really terrible time, actually. “Yes or no?”

“Ranboo, you’re literally a catboy-”

“Not true and also irrelevant?”

“I don’t- I would still love you if you were a wizard, yes.” Tubbo looks up at Ranboo. “Why?”

Here comes the harder part. “... Because I might be a wizard?”

“Oh.” Tubbo pauses. “That makes sense. Okay.”

Ranboo blinks. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, we’re going to bed, and you’re showing me your literal magic tricks in the morning,” Tubbo elaborates. He pulls away to tug on Ranboo’s arm and pout, saying, “Surely you can carry me to bed, right? I am like, five seconds away from passing out. You do not want to deal with a passed out Tubbo. I hear I make bad company.”

If New L’manberg was any indication, probably. Ranboo huffs, making to protest, before realizing that he does not have enough energy to fight this fight and ultimately lose against Tubbo. So, with regret in his voice, he says, “... Fine, I’ll carry you. C’mon, wrap your arms around me.”

“Yay,” Tubbo replies, wrapping his arms around Ranboo and shutting his eyes. Ranboo picks him up and starts carrying him to their bedroom, and before Tubbo entirely falls asleep in his arms, he hears him mumble, “Love you, my wizard. Or whatever the fuck you are. Warm.”

And just like that, Tubbo has fallen asleep in Ranboo’s arms.

… He’ll figure out the whole magic thing tomorrow. He can talk to the Council at some point, and show Tubbo the whole fire thing, and they can figure out what to do. Maybe, if Ranboo’s anxiety doesn’t absolutely get in the way, it could be fun.

For now, though, he has a sleeping husband in his arms, and about three more flights of stairs until he gets to their bedroom– Foolish made a beautiful house, and after witnessing too many of his nervous breakdowns, Ranboo feels like he has no right to complain. And so, trudging up the steps with his cheek buried in Tubbo’s soft hair, Ranboo figures that the rest of his questioning can wait for the night.

-

Fire, brilliantly across his arm, lighting up the darkness. Once pale lavender; now, his own shade of scarlet. This is his fire, he knows. This is his gift. “With this,” they all say, “you will bring the world warmth.”

And then, they were gone.

[crazyglitterpirate]

My view on Molly Weasley

OKAY lets talk about this it important. 

Now i’m not saying she was evil, she wasn’t but i do not think she was a nice person but not a great mother and here are my reason. (i go by the books)

i think the biggest one is her treatment of the twins. First let just address the fact she never knew the difference it is noted that even harry could tell the difference. now yes i understand they were identical twins but i’m sure there would have been some difference, their voices their way of being i mean they aren't clones. surly a mother should know her own children. then there is the plain lack of acknowledgement of their talent, yes they misbehaved and had to be held accountable but they were really smart wizards even the professors where impress but because they weren't what she want the completely disregards them., this shows when ron get perfect and she reply greats thats all my sons but the twins nor Charlie where perfects. Then there is that lack of surrport for the joke shop, now yes i understand they didn't go around somethings right, and i get a mother wanting a more stable career path for her sons and a new business is hard but they didn't do this on a whim it was clear this was always the plan and they had a business at Hogwarts they knew what they were doing. But rather than sit down and try to understand her sons and help them like any mother would do she get rid of all their products that took them ages to make and then compares them to their bothers. 

Next big one is Fleur. now that girl did not deserve the treatment from molly. she connately looked down on her, accused her of using her powers to get bill to marry him. she then continued to say they were only getting married so soon out of fear that they would die in the war when it was then pointed out that she herself did the exact thing during the first war. And during the battle in Half blood prince when bill is left with all those scars she implies that fleur will leave him now to which she reply i have enough beauty for the both of us. only then does she warm up to her, but she allows ginnys behaviour dare i say bulling to go on with reprimand. 

Next - Controlling we see it throughout the books who she tries to control her children into her vision for them but its most obvious with the clock, which literally track all her children movements now yes i understand wanting to know where they are but once they hit 15+ you have to give them trust it is not healthy to track and control almost living through them i think. just think about it this way if you hear a mother was tracking her teenager though their phone you would understand but still think it was creepy right? 

Next comparing her children, i touched on it when talking about the twin, but you see it throughout the books and think the best way to see the effect it has is ron in the first book he is happiest when he is like his older brothers head boy like bill and quidditch captain like Charlie. you just don’t do that.

Next - treatment of ron. now he wasn’t abused like harry but he was neglected to an extent, ron never got his own wand until they were forced to get him one, yes they were poor but EVERYONE else go their own wands but him, they got Percy a owl when ron could have gotten his wand since it was common knowledge the wand picks the wizard, then we got the the hand me down robes fo the yule ball, bare in mind the twins aren't giants in the books they are around the same height. But ron get the embarrassing robes, its a lack of care really then the howler which only propose was to embarrasses ron she could have checked him in more decent  ways but no she sends a howler at breakfast where everyone was the shout at him, and she knew he couldn't be alone because she add ginny to the note. 

Next - not know her own children perfence / or not caring. this is noted when ron get another purple jumper while harry get a quidditch themed one. she also gives ron corn-beefed sandwich which he hates and would have surly said to her at some point.

Finally her favourites of ginny, it’s clear she wanted a daughter and once she got her that was it 

[owawaaa]

I know nobody asked but I feel like. I must. I mu. I must open my big huge mouth and talk about them so here we go, a little introduction (and context) to Seox and Nehan, from granblue fantasy:

Seox: part of a group claimed to be the 10 most powerful fighters in all of the realm (which reflects ingame, their units are insanely powerful AND equally hard to get because of that). All of them are friends of the main character/the chara you control, and join your crew now and then. Seox/Six (alias) is the number 6 in the group, an expert in martial arts. But also. Mister social anxiety. First time you meet him, he can’t even speak if you take his mask off, and is only able to converse with the rest with it on. From the beginning they tell you though, he’s terrifying. He’s the last standing person of his clan, Karm, a clan trained to be the most skilled assassins, and not because they got wiped by other enemy assassins or organizations but because. Seox killed them all. Only data they give you is that he killed them when he was little and he doesn’t remember much of the event. With time you learn that he was the prodigy of the clan, but because of his immesurable power, they feared him, so he spent all his childhood locked and alone, basically abandoned. And then you sort of understand where his anxiety comes from (though not much else). The guilt of killing his whole clan, his own family included, eats at him

Nehan: the “villain” of last year’s game anniversary event! A knowledgable young man, head pharmacist of the mafia. He appears with the revelation that Seox is not the last one standing of Karm; he is the other. The REAL survivor that somehow managed to not get annihilated by Seox, and escaped the village and its massacred people. Living a good, normal childhood up until that turning point, he gets caught while wandering aimlessly through the streets after the massacre, and gets sold off to the mafia as a slave. From there and thanks to being a quick learner and knowledgable about all kinds of plants and herbs for the development of drugs due to his training in Karm, he escalated ranks up to the position where he is now, though the scars over his body prove it was Not a swift process nor relaxed experience at all. The mafia then uses him to develop drugs of their own. 

Although the event was. Truly awfuly built narration wise, and their interactions together are scarce, they’re important and big plot points for seox. Nehan confronts him at the end of the event, about how and why he did what he did, and why having done such an atrocity “destiny” still deemed right to give HIM a chance at life, to give him an opportunity to be raised up and then befriended by other people, leaving behind his past, when he himself didn’t have nearly as much mercy and “destiny” put him in even crueler and crueler hands with the passing of time. Nehan even admits wanting to d*e during those years, but only being driven forward by the wish of seeing the person who killed his family and ruined his entire life.

Obviously, seox wins the fight. Even with the potion nehan ingests to be able to face seox, he’s not even nearly as powerful. It’s stated canonically even that he was the runt of the clan, and his strong area wasn’t fighting really, it was books and information about the properties of plants.

The event ends with nehan walking away from seox, leaving to another city, and getting persecuted and shot by the remnants of the mafia, which he betrayed through the event. The crew (you and your teammates) get there just in time to save his life, but despite healing him he stays in a comatose state ever since.

SO YEAH. ANGST! ANGST

[cimerran-714]

Hello! I hope you're doing well. The purpose of this short "composition" is to closely analyze some of the key H/Hr moments in the books (I haven't watched all the movies, so you won't find anything about the films here).

And I know it should be obvious, but I seriously don't mind the R/Hr or H/G ship. It's none of my business. So please refrain from taking anything out of context/misappropriate the things I say. I mean absolutely no offence to any Canon pairings.

Even if you don't ship them, I'm sure you can't deny that both Harry and Hermione have an incredibly close platonic relationship together. I've heard people narrate some of the "finest" H/Hr moments while explaining why they're fit to be soulmates. There's a high probability that you'd come across them when talking to a H/Hr shipper. However, there are a few scenes in the books (which, in retrospect, are really 'sweet') I haven't heard others talk about often.

In this essay, I'd like to share some of the best scenes in the Potter books, immediately followed by an underrated moment.

Let's dig in.

Best moment:

The hug in Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone.

Ah, isn't it obvious? This is certainly one of the finest moments that kickstarts the strong dynamic between Harry and Hermione. I really like this scene. It's powerful on a number of levels.

Romione shippers tend to provide a parallel to exemplify the attraction between the remaining members of the Golden Trio (Hermione apologizing about Scabbers and sobbing onto Ron's shoulders). But in my eyes, there's certainly something different about her hugging Harry.

Firstly, we've got to consider the context. When Hermione embraced Ron, it happened on the second page of a different chapter. On the contrary, anything that occurs at the end of any chapter/book sticks in our minds for a long time.

I'm going off on a tangent here, just to make sure you get the point. This trope (though I'm not sure I can it that) happens a lot of times in the Harry Potter books.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"

This scene hits home for a lot of reasons.

Look, most of us can't help feeling sorry for Harry here. His parents are dead, which (as McGonagall claimed) is a horrible thing to have happened. We've also seen at the beginning of the book that the Dursleys hate the Potters.

It's distressing to realize that a one-year-old is about to be raised by a family who doesn't like him at all.

And the fact that the entire wizarding world is celebrating Volde... sorry, You-Know-Who's downfall, while the boy sleeps on innocently (without any knowledge of what's just happened), is even more saddening. No, he simply couldn't know what'd happened to his life, that witches and wizards all over the country are toasting him.

It's bittersweet.

Moving on:

Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down; eyes open, facing his three birthday cards.

Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else -- glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday.

This is, yet again, another 'Aww' moment at the end of a chapter. How can you not feel sorry for Harry? Most thirteen-year-olds have already enjoyed a lot of birthdays in the past. But for him, it's something new.

He's glad that it's his birthday for the first time. If I didn't know better, JKR wants us to sympathize with Harry.

And here's a final example:

Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before it slammed.

I do feel for Ron, getting attacked by a flock of birds was certainly uncalled for. But don't you get the point? The "sob" momentarily diverts our attention towards Hermione.

"Poor Ron, that must have hurt... oh, dear, Hermione's crying."

I think you know what I'm talking about. It's the same thing that happened when Hermione embraced Harry and called him a "Great wizard."

Yes, the H/Hr hug doesn't occur at the last line or anything, but it's certainly just a page before the chapter ends.

"But Harry -- what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well -- I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

"Hermione!"

"Harry -- you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. "Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things -- friendship and bravery and -- oh Harry -- be careful!"

That's one reason why it's meaningful!

Also, note that Harry's just about to face the 'Big Bad' (at a moment when 'Danger lies ahead of them and safety lies behind'). No one's noticed them hugging, too.

And it wasn't in front of the Portrait Hall or anything, either.

It was deep beneath the ramifications of the castle. It was (probably) around midnight, too.

The situation (arguably, the fate of the wizarding world rests on Harry's shoulders now).

The dialogue ("You're a great wizard, you know" instead of "I'm so sorry about Scabbers")

The atmosphere (It was late at night).

The fact that they were just kids.

All of these make the hug so powerful.

Oh, and it was the first book in the series. 2- Underrated moment:

Harry (and yes, Ron too) saving Hermione from the troll.

What's interesting here is:

1- Harry was the one who immediately thought of Hermione after Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to take everyone to their dormitories (Not Ron).

2- Harry isn't smug about having just saved a stranger's life.

A stranger, moreover, who was considered "interfering".

On the other hand, Ron is a little git.

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

"I've just thought -- Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

It's pretty obvious that, if given the choice, Ron would rather not go after the girl he'd teased in class.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Harry's saving both of their lives here (while endangering his own).

Remember that he's only eleven.

"We should have gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled.

"Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

Ron thinks they were doing Hermione a favour. Harry, however, is a tad more level-headed. And sensible.

Also, it's somewhat of a stretch, but I believe it proves the point that Harry's true nature is like his mother's (James Potter had boasted around after he saved Snape's life).

Yes, I know it's such a cliche, but Harry is pure at heart.

3-Best moment:

The "mythical" Hippogriff ride:

Now, I've personally never thought much of it. It's a good chapter, yes, but bringing animals into a Shipping war is just... meh.

It's the trust that Harry had in Hermione (when she pulled out the Time turner) that interests me.

Anyhow, it's a pretty common argument posed by H/Hr fans.

Quoting from Wikipedia:

In some traditions, the hippogriff is said to be the symbol of love, as its parents, the mare and griffin, are natural enemies. In other traditions, the hippogriff represents Christ's dual nature as both human and divine.

It occurred in the wee hours of the morning, so I suppose it does have a slightly "mythological" (I can't think of a better word) feel to it.

Again, I'm not sure I can call it my favourite part of the book, especially as Hermione wasn't enjoying riding on Buckbeak.

Underrated moment:

Having fun talking about Filch and Madam Pince.

Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted lamp-lit corridors back to the common room, arguing whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

For Romione shippers who believe that Harry and Hermione are "boring" together, it's a rude awakening.

No, the "arguing" doesn't mean they were actually in a disagreement. It's clear that both of them were having fun.

Enjoying their time, in fact.

It's one of the few 'Harmony' scenes in Half-blood Prince.

I do not believe that either of them was consciously aware of their feelings towards each other, either.

And if it's just a coincidence that they were enjoying talking about being in love, it's certainly a bizarre one.

4-Best moment:

Visiting Godric's Hollow together

"'The last enemy that shall be defeated is death'..." A horrible thought came to him, and with a kind of panic. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"

"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," said Hermione, her voice gentle. "It means... you know... living beyond death. Living after death."

But they were not living, thought Harry. They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents' moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something o give them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parents' grave.

As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave: He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.

If it was intended to be a totally platonic visit, why a pose that's very romantic? Also, as someone else had mentioned in their blog, Harry rarely (if never) initiates physical contact with anyone.

There's also a kissing gate present in the Church.

It seems as if JKR has got a flair for writing co-incidences that further cement the H/Hr relationship.

Underrated moment:

Ernie Macmillion's change of heart:

This is simply beautiful, and even more so as Macmillion was aware that Harry can speak Parseltongue (an ability commonly associated with Dark Wizards).

What happens when students are mysteriously turning into stone, and you figure out that one of them was "egging on" a snake during a duelling club? A boy, moreover, who dislikes the Muggles he lives with? Someone who managed to defeat Lord Voldemort himself?

Hmm...

The logical conclusion would be that Harry's got a hand in it. Ernie believed that Harry Potter was the one Petrifying everyone, even a few weeks/months after the attacks stopped.

What takes the Hufflepuff to bring him to his senses?

The fact that Harry would never harm his Muggle-born friend.

I know it's a little thing, but it shows that the whole school (indeed, Ernie belonged to a different House) was aware of how close Harry and Hermione were together.

Note that he'd apologized immediately after a double-attack.

"Harry, harm Hermione Granger? Impossible!"

Macmillian was the one being paranoid, and told tales about Harry to Hannah Abbot.

And yet a single thing changed his mind completely.

To wind up, I'mma give you another part from the first book:

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry's heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die." "Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-" "Harry! Harry, are you all right?" Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

What's noteworthy is that Hermione apparently doesn't care about staying close to Hagrid and protecting herself. She's so worried about what's happened to Harry that she's rushing along in front of Hagrid.

Throughout the books, you can see Harry being protective of Hermione.

The feeling's mutual ;)

[fandomgodmother420]

Okay so I saw

This post ^^

And I was like

Wait wait wait okay okay hang on wait a damn minute-

Because this is cursed rite we all know this is cursed but somethin about it got me thinkin it got me thinking quite a lot and it’s the idea of Callahans character being deaf and like obviously the way it’s done here is bad but it got me thinking okay well what if you did it well? What if it wasn’t garbage? What if it became a super important part of the show?

I think I have a new favorite au now?

Okay listen listen let me explain right-Callahan would still be a side character to the side characters but first things first he’d talk using sign language and literally the first thing that he signs when people try and talk to him is that he’s deaf. He also wouldn’t be able to understand people who talk to him, they’d have to either sign, write something down, or be super expressive. (Ik a lot of deaf people read lips but I feel like in media with deaf people almost all the time they like fully rely on lip reading and their almost superhumanly good at it and idk I think it would be cool for a deaf character to just not lip read-hardly ever) so now the fact that he’s deaf isn’t just something that you can drop in interviews for brownie points. Still, he’s hardly ever there and he’s not really a part of the story and that’s just kind of annoying and for a while it seems like that’s just how it’s gonna be, just one background background deaf character who’s pretty cool but who we almost never get to see...

But the explosions that went off during the pogtopia manburg war where pretty fuckin loud

And Quackity was right on top of them. He might’ve lost a cannon life to them-it’s kinda up for debate but for the purpose of the au we’re gonna say he did, because losing a cannon life affects your body. Your body changes to suit how you died-you get scars from losing a cannon life.

Here’s where it gets good

One of the next episodes post war is 100% Quackity focused and he wakes up in a bed and he’s like welp lets just hope I’m not as bad off as Tubbo was. There’s no rustling noise when he moves the sheets and blankets to look at himself, at this point the viewer might realize there’s no music in the background either, there’s no ambient noises from outside. Quackity sees he doesn’t have visible scaring anywhere and he’s like that’s weird but good for me? I guess? He walks outside and his footsteps don’t make any noise. Tubbo runs up to him and starts talking-except he’s not making any noise either. His mouth is moving but there’s no sound coming out of it. Both quackity and the viewer are currently experiencing what’s going on in 100% silence and Quackity starts to panic. A scar would’ve been fine, a limb he can live without, but this??? He can’t hear! He can’t hear anything! Fuck is he supposed to do now?

He runs to Sapnap and Karl, they’re not dating yet but they make him feel safe and he doesn’t know where else to go or what to do and Sapnaps like “I know a guy” but neither the audience nor Quackity hears him say it. His mouth moves but again, no sound. Nothing. Still he makes it clear that he has an idea and that he’ll be right back. Mans fuckin books it to Callahan and after a bit of frantic gestures and sloppy sign language because ya know of course Sapnap did try to learn sign to talk to Callahan at some point he just doesn’t practice nearly enough, Callahan comes over to Quackity and starts teaching him and Karl ASL and gives Sapnap a much needed review course.

That’s it. That’s the episode. An entire episode that’s 100% silent with no subtitles, that’s just Quackity learning how to function without being able to hear. In the places where Callahan can’t help Sapnap and Karl come in. Tubbo gets in on it too since he’s deaf in one ear ever since the festival. (Quackitys like damn cheif I didn’t even kno that and Tubbo admits to thinking it was just him being in shock for a long time until a bee flew around his ear for 20 minutes straight a week after the festival had happened and he didn’t know it was there until Tommy asked if he was gonna name it.) Quackity learns how to talk when he can’t hear himself speaking, how to read lips, what music is like when you can’t hear it, how to speak sign language, all that jazz.

One of the things about being deaf that scares the shit out of Quackity is not being able to hear people sneaking up on him and Tubbos like “oh you need a spotter” and Quackity makes it clear that he has no idea what the fuck that means. So Tubbo explains “a spotter, I don’t know if they actually have a different name but I call them that cuz they cover your blind spot. They’re like your eyes and ears where you don’t have any. That way nobody can sneak up on you.” If the audience is particularly observant they’ll realize that ever since the festival Tommy has always stood on Tubbos right, witch is where Tubbo had gotten scarred. (Later on after Tommy’s exiled Quackity and sometimes Fundy become the ones to cover Tubbos right, but Tubbo is more clearly on constant high alert than he used to be. On a few days like the one before the capturing techno and the one before the second festival he’s straight up jumpy and he hates it) So Quackity of course has a lot of questions is this is pretty important. “well how do I know who I should get to be my spotter? Do they need like training or something? Should I just get a service dog? ???” And Tubbos like “No. Well-maybe that’s the proper way to do it but I’d just go with someone I trust my life with-whoever makes you feel safest, go with that” and Sapnap and Karl start laughing like idiots because Quackity IMMEDIATELY grabs them-like Tubbos barley finished his sentence and Quackitys like ah yes

The hardest part is preserving Quackitys ability to speak Spanish, because he’s the only one who knows it so Karl Sapnap and Tubbo can’t tell him weather he’s pronouncing it right or not and none of them know Spanish sign language. Hell Karl and Tubbo didn’t even know Spanish sign language existed until that day. After a bit of panicking Sapnap is like “wait I know a guy” and Quackity can actually tell what he’s saying this time. (Woo parallels) So sapnap and Co. go to George who’s king now and has access to all of Erets king stuff. Turns out Erets castle has a whole shelf of translation guides for different languages and their sign language counterparts. She kept them for diplomacy reasons. It’s much harder to learn without Callahan teaching it, but progress is made and the gang decides they’ll keep working on learning it together. There’s still the problem of Quackity not being able to speak Spanish though, they end up going with does Quackity sound like how he normally does rn? for figuring out if he’s pronouncing things right. Karl and Sapnap are surprisingly good at being able to tell.

But here’s the best part rite:

So after this episode Quackity, Karl, Sapnap, Tubbo, and obvs Callahan all know sign language-they don’t all know it perfectly nobody’s gonna master it in a day but they’re working on it. And so now in later episodes in addition to the gang talking in sign language a lot when they’re the focus of a scene, you can make them talk to eachother in sign language while other stuff is going on!! No subtitles to translate or draw attention to it, some people might not even notice its happening, but if you watch them you can see them signing to eachother. You could add so many convos and lore and secrets and the best part is if the audience wants in on it they also have to learn sign language!!

Literally just-oh my god it would be the coolest thing okay like immagine:

Ranboos doing his dramatic speech to everyone. Y’all know the one-the one before doomsday after Tommy gets out of exhile. So like Ranboos doing his bit and Fundy and Nikki are arguing with him and :0! what’s this? Look in the background and Tubbo and Quackity are signing to eachother, Quackitys angry and Tubbo is somehow angrier and you watch them more closely to see what the hell is going on and realize (with your sign language knowledge)-they’re fighting about executing Ranboo.

LIKE HOW FUCKING COOL WOULD THAT BE HOLY SHIT

Anyways I have so many headcannons for this now I think it’s the coolest thing if there’s like a tag? Or something? For this thatd be so fuckin cool if there isn’t I feel like I should make one but idk what to call it ion know man I just think this is poggers as hell. To think it all sprung from someone making a DreamSMP as a garbage riverdale show joke

[fuckyouquiznak]

Jschlatt's Return

= Future developments in the Dream SMP plot (theories)

How does resurrection work?

• According to Philza and Eret to revive someone his ghost must be killed in the same way he lost his last canon life (that would also explain why Glatt and Ghostbur came back online recently).

• We also know they may need a totem and the knowledge of the resurrection book, which is now kept somewhere out there in the server, considering Dream said he didn't have it physically in prison with him. (He also said he destroyed it, but do we trust him? Absolutely not)

• We didn't see Tommy's revival from Dream's point of view, so it could be that Phantommy actually appeared and Dream easily killed him on the same spot of Tommy (maybe using the clock or his mask as a totem idk), but we still don't know what kind of information the book provides and how resurrection really works.

What is going to happen?

1. Quackity and Sam

• Quackity's last stream made pretty clear Big Q's intention of taking the book from Dream using all the means possible.

• However, despite the torture, Dream won't give any information. First of all he doesn't like Jschlatt, because he finds him annoying and boring (not like Wilbur) and second, of course, he knows the book's knowledge is the only thing that prevents other people from killing him. And then again, why should he give away the same power that made him a god? Quackity won't kill him without the book, and he is used to pain. Moreover he'll have some company at least.

• Quackity won't give up. He will keep visiting Dream everyday and will eventually start to like making him suffer.

• Sam instead will feel more and more guilty for what he made possible and for the person he became. He has changed since Tommy's death. He had promise to protect him and then he failed him. And then everything went wrong. He likes to believe that Dream deserves this for what he did to Tommy, but he is not sure that's the right way. Sometimes he even feels sorry for him, especially after Quackity's visits. After all Dream is just a broken person. Isn't he?

2. Tommy and the boys

• Meanwhile Tommy goes to Puffy's therapy sessions and opens up about his traumas and fears. It's hard, but it really helps having someone to talk to. Especially now.

• Since he returned to the server he has felt so lonely.

• Everyone treats him differently. Some people see him as miracle and keep asking inappropriate questions. Some others pretend nothing happened. For few of them the server just moved on; for others he is still dead.

• Even so he can't focus too much on himself right now. Stopping Dream is much more important. If Wilbur comes back... he doesn't even want to think about what he is capable of.

• They need to kill Dream, but Tommy is still too scared to come back to prison or to even touch a sword. Every time he suffers a damage he can't breathe: it's like it's happening all over again.

• He can't stay at his house anymore, on the ashes of L'Manburg, nor at his hotel, which is in Jack's hands, and he doesn't want to be alone (it reminds him of exile).

• He'll pass the time at Ranboo and Tubbo's, meeting Michael and working out a plan to kill Dream.

• In Tommy's stream Tubbo showed him his investigation report, pointing out that both Foolish and Ranboo were online when someone damaged the prison (before Tommy's dead).

• Tubbo obviously blames Foolish, nonetheless Tommy understands that something in Ranboo is corrupted.

• He tries to warn Tubbo, who underestimates his friend's words, thinking he might just be jealous of their relationship. They fight. It's a huge argument.

• "It's like you don't want me to be happy" Tubbo screams, shaking his head.

• "I don't want you to be happy without me" as soon as these words leave Tommy's mouth he immediately regrets it.

• Tubbo stays silent for a while. He seems disappointed: "You've changed".

• Tommy tighten a fist. "That's what death does to people, Tubbo, it changes them".

3. Kinoko Kingdom

• At the end Tommy will leave Snowchester and will move into Kinoko Kingdom (he liked the sign of the "free stuff", so why not?). Tommy there is welcome.

• He explains the Wilbur situation to the others, but then something bad happens.

• Hanging out with Sapnap, they talk about Ranboo and Dream's friendship and about how he acted when he received the ":)" message.

• It turns out Ranboo is guilty for the explosions in the prison that kept Sam busy during Tommy's visit to Dream.

• Tommy shows Tubbo the evidences.

4. Platonic Divorce

• After that, the platonic husbands will go through a "divorce arc".

• "How could you?" Tubbo can't help crying and screaming. "I trusted you".

• Ranboo wishes he could do something. But he is scared. He doesn't remember any of that. Did he really help Dream? Why? He doesn't...

• "I kicked out Tommy, my best friend, when he most needed me because of you! I think you should leave".

• Tubbo goes back to Tommy, apologizing. "You were right". And as much as he hates Ranboo, Tommy is broken-hearted seeing his best friend that hurt.

• However he can't help smiling when Tubbo says: "Guess it's just you and me against Dream like it has always been". It's selfish, but he really missed his best friend.

5. Connor's betrayal

• Sam talks with Connor about his doubts related to the all 'torture thing'.

• Connor tries to comfort him and decides to visit Dream with Quackity.

• Dream is relentless: "That villain arc you sewed for yourself is nice. But I won't tell you anything. And the book doesn't exist anymore, now. You can control every book in the server. It will not bring it back" saying these words Dream keeps his eyes on Connor. "The only way to find it should be... be able to travel in time"

• Connor freezes.

6. Karl's arrest

• Karl finds the resurrection book during one of his travels.

• He immediately plans to give it to Tommy, but when he comes back, someone is waiting for him in the library.

• "Well, look what the cat dragged in" Quackity stays still, his arms crossed, next to Connor and Sam. They all wear armours. "So it is true. That's a huge secret you have, Karl"

• The library behind them is destroyed. Books lie on floor ripped. They were looking for it.

• Karl puts the book of Necromancy back, his voice shaking as he realises Sapnap and George aren't there. "What are you doing here?" He asks, making eye contact with Connor, who quickly looks away, ashamed.

• "I'm sorry, Karl" he whispers "But Jschlatt is my friend"

• Quackity walks slowly towards him. "Give me the book, Karl". He has a creepy smile on his face. Is that even the same Quackity? This one looks different.

• "Quackity, you don't have to-"

• "Don't tell what I have to do. If you refuse, I might have to declare you under arrest"

• Karl holds the book tighter. If he gave him the book... no, he can't do that. For Tommy's sake, and for the rest of the server. If the book has the power to revive Wilbur... it must be destroyed. He grabs his sword, ready to fight.

• Quackity looks disappointed "You didn't give me another choice, man" he says, before killing him and taking the book from his inventory.

7. Dream and Karl

• Karl is later taken to the prison and put in Dream's cell.

• "Well, green boy, seems like you service is no longer required. However, I want to keep having fun with you. I'll revive Jschlatt, and then I'll execute you publicly. Enjoy your last hours: I got you company" Quackity leaves with a victory smile on his face.

• Dream looks horrible. He is covered in blood, his body painted by new scars. Karl has never seen him like this. His hearts are low and he hasn't eaten in days.

• Dream is the first one who speaks: "You found it".

• Karl freezes. What does that mean? "I though I had hidden it too well" he keeps saying, washing his blood away. "Maybe I should have really destroyed it"

• How cool would it be if Dream actually hid the book in the timeline? He couldn't burn it. Otherwise if he died no one would have revived him. So he just hid it where only Karl could find it.

• So yes, Dream knows Karl's power because he has a similar one. And yes, the prison was actually built for Karl (that's the only theory I care about).

• "We are not that different, Karl. Forgetting the people you love.. I know what it feels. I can help you controlling it. Have you reached the In between yet?"

• What if Dream is the one leaving Karl books and suggestions about his travels?

• They spend some time together and they surprisingly get along well. It's like someone finally understands.

8. Sapnap's lore

• Sapnap finds out Karl has been arrested, but he doesn't know why. He is angry.

• He faces Quackity who giggles. "Apparently there are a lot of things we don't know about Karl" but he doesn't tell him Karl's secret.

• Quackity and Sapnap break up (I won't ever be over Quackity's stream with El Rapid)

• Sapnap joins the children group. They are breaking into prison, right? He needs to save Karl.

9. Escape from Pandora's Vault

• Tommy, Tubbo, Ghostbur and Sapnap manage to break into Pandora's Vault when Sam and Quackity aren't online.

• When they arrive in Dream's cell, he is talking with Karl.

• Sapnap, horrified, takes Karl away from him. He doesn't trust Dream anymore, not after what he did to Tommy. He is sure it's his fault if Karl is here now.

• Dream can't help smiling when he sees the little party there. Especially when he sees his best friend Tommy. He tries to get closer.

• "I'm gonna kill you man. What the hell-" Sapnap punches Dream away. The anger and the resentment spread all over his body. They didn't deserve so much pain. Maybe the server will be a peaceful place without him. "You killed Tommy and then you gave Quackity the book- you"

• Karl stops him, defending Dream. "Sapnap, please. He didn't give them the book. I was the one who did".

• Everyone hold their breathe. What? Why? Wasn't it burned? How did you...

• "We need to get him out"

• Tommy grifts his teeth: "No way he is coming with us". He tries to grab his sword trembling and gagging, but it's too much. He can't... that place...

• Dream steps away. "Oh, you came to kill me" he whispers. "Do it. I'll be dead by tomorrow anyway"

• "You can't die yet!" Karl screams.

• "C'mon, Karl-"

• Dream smiles. "Don't forget who you are, Karl. And don't stray from the path. The SMP needs you more than you know" (= Dream is the one who leaves Karl notes about time travelling in the In Between :])

• "We don't have much time, guys"

• "Yeah, Tommy you don't have much time. Are you going to kill me? Or are you too afraid?" Dream starts teasing Tommy. "I bet you can't do it, right? You're too weak. And down deep you know you love me. We are best friends after all, aren't we?"

• Tommy doesn't react. He is as pale as a ghost, his eyes wide open.

• Tubbo steps in. He can't look at Tommy like this. He hates Dream so much. "Stay away from him". Looking back at his life, Dream has always been responsible for the bad things happened to him. The discs, L'Manburg, Tommy's exile, his death...

• Dream raises his eyebrows. "Tubbo, how's Ranboo?"

• It happens in a moment. Tubbo just loses control and kills Dream. Don't worry Dream's stans he'll come back one day. Bigger plans for that greenboy.

10. Resurrection

• They all run away.

• That same night Jschlatt is publicly revived. "¿Por dónde empezamos?"

• Quackity, Sam and Connor stay behind him.

• "Tonight our country has faced a loss. Four intruders entered the Pandora's Vault, killed Dream and helped the prisoner Karl Jacobs escape. Sapnap, Tubbo, Tommy and Ghostbur are now officially wanted. Dead or alive."

End of the season? Maybe?

How does the server react?

• Tommy, Tubbo, Sapnap, Ghostbur and Karl are criminals. They become nomads for a while. Samnook gives them an hand.

• Tommy keeps thinking about what Tubbo did. They really didn't talk about it after the break-out. Tubbo just pretends nothing happened.

• Karl and Sapnap aren't talking neither. And when they do they fight.

• The only happy one seems to be Ghostbur, who is excited to be on a vacation with the boys.

• Dream's ghost (Specdream? Nightmare?) appears to Ranboo, who is alone in a self-exile because he doesn't want to hurt anyone. Dream's ghost would be much more like Clay, so he won't be that dangerous like c/Dream (cfr. Ghostbur and Wilbur). But still it would be insane to see those two hanging out.

• Jschlatt and Quackity open their Casino, helped by Jack, who sells the hotel.

• After Dream's death and the destruction of Kinoko Kingdom, George takes Quackity's side. He is sure Sapnap killed Dream and he doesn't know how to feel about it...

• Philza, Techno, Eret and Niki, wanting Wilbur's return, will do the same (they need Ghostbur btw). Techno in particular will hunt the fugitives.

• Puffy and Fundy, contrary to them, will try to find Ranboo and the others in order to stop Jschlatt and Quackity.

• Wilbur and Dream meanwhile are having so much fun in the afterlife.

Even if solitaire is not chess

[llendrinall]

I'm with you on how terrible we found Fantastic Beasts. Now let me ask, how would you have written/built the Fantastic Beasts storyline?

I have not watched the 3rd movie so it’s possible that they have managed to turn it all around, but to start with I would give some actual connection to the movies beyond the title and characters. Otherwise it just feels like those children books: “X goes to the park”, “X in the supermarket”, where we see the same people in different situations but they are disconnected from each other.

I probably would have gone a different route all together, but suppose Warner has already hired the actors and started building the sets so we must use at least some elements from the movies. In that case I would make a story of discovery and reflection in three parts, with narcissism being the main theme.

First movie

Newt goes to NY with his magical bag. Most of the film is the same, but we get a sense of Newt being less childish (less painfully obvious and thinly surreptitious wand waving around muggles) and a bit more selfish. However, we should like him more for it.

Newt is, to the society of the time, completely mental. Rather than going on hunts and collecting trophies, he is recuing animals! I would emphasize that the animals he keeps have been compromised and can’t be safely returned to their habitats and since conditions and wizarding zoos are deplorable, he keeps them with him. The exception is that thunder bird he has come to release.

And that’s his goal, releasing the thunder bird, which he pursues with extreme focus. He doesn’t care about anything else which is why he is so open to Jacob the Muggle. Newt could be imprisoned* and Jacob would be obliviated into a stupor, but Newt doesn’t care about personal risks so he doesn’t care about the danger he poses to others. He is selfish that way. A generous kind of selfishness, sure, but dangerous.

I’m sorry, but the President of the MACUSA is not a woman nor a POC. It must be a white man surrounded by white men, one of whom might be either Catholic or Jewish and that’s all the diversity you see. Are there POC wizards? Yes. But not in positions of power. There is a bigger emphasis on the separation of wizards and No-Maj, with waaay more surveillance and harsher punishments. Suspicion alone may be enough to break your wand in some cases.

* And that’s how I could believe that POC wizards and witches (WWs from now on because “magicals” sounds weird) aren’t intervening in muggle spaces. They must be suffering similar levels of racism. They are tolerated, maybe they have better prospects that POC muggles, but that’s it. I can’t believe none of them would show some solidarity to the Non-Maj, unless it meant being summarily executed.

(Oh, and there would be this scene in which we see law-abiding and conscientious Tina stalking the house of an African-American muggle family. Nothing is said of it, other that Tina used to work with a muggle-born partner but now she works alone. Keen-eyed viewers will notice some hoodo trinkets in Tina’s flat, and a photograph of Tina with an African American woman, and then we will know).

I don’t remember Credence’s storyline very well, but it doesn’t matter. What is important is that Graves (powerful white man Graves) develops some sort of empathy. He doesn’t want it, but it’s there in his heart now. Maybe something with Newt’s animals. Some “beast” (look at how they say beasts and not animals) should have maimed and eaten Graves, but doesn’t because Newt is there in all his animal-loving glory. Graves gets to see the monster as merely a scared and hurt animal and learns to treat others with some decency and kindness.

That would be a nice classic movie, (prejudiced man gets over himself), but we can’t end it here. I would even allow for Tina’s scene stalking the house to be cut in order to have time for the climax: the moment when Graves realizes his society and his government may not always be right and defies direct orders by helping Credence. As I said, I don’t remember what the deal with Credence was, but Graves fixes it. There will be a personal cost to his career, but losing a promotion is nothing compared to saving a life, which is what he does. No ambiguous explosion or cloud of smoke. Credence is evidently and irrevocably safe at the cost of Graves being demoted.

There is no Gellert Grindelwald whatsoever, except maybe some government secretary mentioning they like that guy from Europe.

Second movie

Set in London rather than Paris. Newt receives the visit from a lovely, lovely, gentleman who, as it turns out, doesn’t think Newt is a fool. The charming gentleman asks Newt about the dragons, specifically the ones in Gringotts and oh, oh, Newt is against it. It’s abominable and unethical. But Newt would rather not think too much about it because, what can he do? He would rather focus on helping those he can and on spreading his thoughts on animal conservation. He is publishing a journal, although he admits it doesn’t do too well. He has twelve subscribers and seven of them openly mock his papers during dinner parties.

The charming gentleman says, but what if Newt could do something about it? What would Newt be willing to do? Would he break the law?

Newt laughs. He is forbidden from leaving the country. He is no stranger to jumping, crossing, tampering or breaking the law.

Marvelous! The charming gentleman reveals that he, like Newt, is unhappy with their society. It is weak and corrupt* and someone must do something about it. They have to fix it.

So the charming gentleman introduces Newt to some other like-minded friends and together they plan a heist to get into Gringotts and release the dragons. It is time to build a society one can feel proud of!

We get the heist, which is clever and delightful. The charming gentleman is brave, smart and powerful with his magic. There is a moment when some of the co-conspirators, and even the charming gentleman himself, get inside some vaults. This is not what they had planned! Not at all. But the charming gentleman assures Newt that he has good reasons.

They get out. And here comes the Nagini moment. Meaning I really, really, really, don’t need to see an Asian woman condemned to whatever that was in the second movie. I don’t need to have beautiful Neville kill a woman who has been turned into a snake and then a Horcrux.

But, do you want an “oh no” moment? Here it comes.

Because of the heist, Gringotts revises their security measures. That poor dragon in Deathly Hallows? The one with scars who had been conditioned to fear a certain sound? Newt’s fault. And the charming gentleman doesn’t care.

We have established in the previous movie that Newt is somewhat selfish and short-sighted. He rejects his society and cares only about his animals which is very nice. Newt is well intentioned, but that is not enough. Not caring about politics is the privilege of those in the elite (and despite Newts’ eccentricities he is very much the elite). The previous movie had Graves’ awakening. The man discovering something about himself in this movie is Newt.

Newt realizes that he must be an active participant in society. Sadly, he only realizes it after he has helped Gellert Grindelwald steal a number of very important artefacts as well as some gold to fund his project to reform Europe.

The epilogue of the movie has Albus Dumbledore visiting Newt, telling him not to be too hard on himself because he, Dumbledore, also fell for Gellert lies. And if Newt wants to do something about it, Dumbledore has some ideas.

* History fans might not realize immediately, but hopefully they will catch on the fact that all of the beautiful arguments from the charming gentleman are about weakness of the state, which is a common fascist trope.

Third movie

In which characters from previous movies are brought back without having to completely destroy their personalities.

Graves is in Europe and he pays a visit to Newt to ask for his help. Graves is using his new found empathy (that he didn’t want) to investigate a series of highly suspicious murders and incidents. The victims were all Latinas so it was dismissed, but Graves thinks there is something.

Two scenes later in comes Tina, who has quitted her job in order to track the murderer of some friend’s friend. An African American child is dead, no it was not the No-Maj, it was someone else, someone who wanted to cover their tracks and leave no witnesses and Tina is going to eat their heart.

Is it possible that Graves and Tina are after the same person? Yes and no. It is two different henchmen but Dumbledore has no trouble going beyond the small picture to see the pattern. He knows Grindelwald always had an interest in powerful artefacts, not just the Deathly Hallows.

Grindelwald has stolen the Macguffin, a powerful artefact belonging to a Latin-American community. With that and the Elder Wand he will be unstoppable. Oh no!

But! Newt realizes there is something missing. The raven is not a symbol of death in all cultures. Grindelwald might not fully understand what he has taken or how to use it.

So Graves and Tina go fight Grindelwald’s organization and be awesome together, delaying Grindelwald’s big coup. Meanwhile, Newt illegally leaves the country, goes back to NY, takes Queenie and deploys her. Because Queenie is nice. She plays the vapid pretty woman, but she is above all nice and if someone can make a hurt and distrustful community open their door to strangers, it is going to be Queenie with the help of Jacob’s bread.

And, indeed! They succeed. The bruja Latina explains about the Macguffin. Grildelwald doesn’t understand what he has stolen. It is not meant to be used like that at all.

They go back to Europe quickly, Newt relays this information to Dumbledore and he steps to his duel with Grindelwald armed with the knowledge and insight that comes from showing some measure of respect to other people for once.

(And if it seems that Dumbledore’s victory rests on other people’s work, well, Dumbledore’s main trait is his ability to earn people’s trust and devotion. But I guess Newt and Queenie could have brought the bruja with them and after a nice chat with Dumbledore she agrees to share their secrets with him, so he has the opportunity to show he is different).

Rather than having a man realize something, this movie is about the consequences of not opening your eyes: Gindelwald’s fall. It would also nicely establish Dumbledore’s best manipulative traits. If we must have het couples, Tina saves Newt’s from some mook and taker a kiss. Graves goes with the pretty Lestrange, I guess, to have a long life of morality sanctioned crimes.

(A TV show. Twelve episodes. Cancelled after the first season. Graves and Lestrange are back in the States helping oppressed communities and dodging the MACUSA and whatever the equivalent of the FBI was back then).

[popatochisssp]

can we get an update on the body insecurities with a human s/o for the new boys, if you're up for it?

This one? You bet!

Ash (Undergloom Sans): There’s nothing about his body that he’s particularly self-conscious of, actually. ...But there’s also nothing about his body that he’s particularly proud of. It’s...fine, it does all the things a body is supposed to do, more or less, but it’s just...there. Not bad, but not good either. He’s very much the type of person who’s mentally drawn a line between himself and his body, thinking of them as separate things, and the qualities of the latter have nothing to do with the former. He can say honestly that there’s nothing he hates about his body, but the fact that there’s nothing he especially likes about it either is probably not ideal. He’d almost certainly benefit from his s/o helping him learn a little self-love to nudge that pointed neutrality into something positive, and to give him at least one or two things he could actively like about the bones that carry him around from place to place.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Much as he knows it’s a silly thing to worry about, he tends to fret about falling short of human standards of masculinity, at least as they’re broadly, popularly defined. All the things that men are ‘supposed to be’--big, strong, athletic, tough, et cetera--are things that he...isn’t. He’s on the taller side so he’s got that going for him, but he’s not all that strong, physically, and his hobbies are...pretty domestic. He loves cooking and cleaning, books and scented candles, nature and knowledge! And of course, he knows all about the concept of toxic masculinity and that striving to be anything at all but what he is would only harm him, but with a human s/o, who was born in and brought up around those ideas and stereotypes, he sometimes wonders if that...matters to them??? If he’s...maybe not being all the man they want or need him to be??? A frank conversation about all of that would do wonders to put at least most of those fears to rest, but it’s definitely a topic for his s/o to be a little tactful and sensitive about it!

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Most of the physical consequences of Everything that happened Underground don’t make him feel self-conscious at all. His size, the hole in his head, the pins in his jaw, they all make him look cool and scary as hell, and he almost looks at them all as a point of pride that he survived everything thrown his way. Even only being able to manifest one eye-light is really not that big a deal to him and doesn’t really register as anything to dwell on. But... there is one thing... He really doesn’t like the cracks in his vertebrae. He thinks they’re ugly and even after all this time, they still look fresh and raw and feeling eyes on them, or catching a glimpse of them himself in the mirror makes him feel entirely too exposed. Human docs couldn’t figure out a permanent way to fill them in without restricting his range of motion or further agitating his magic, and he quickly got to the point where he couldn’t take all the poking and prodding around his neck trying to figure something out and just wanted to get on with life. There are a lot of turtlenecks in his wardrobe and any attention paid to that particular spot by his s/o is best kept short and sweet.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): You’d think it would be his scars still, or even his missing leg. But it’s neither. It’s not something he’d ever express in a million years, but his biggest insecurity is that he... kind of hates the way he looks in clothes. Not all clothes--he has a few expensive, tailored suits he’s very fond of, however rarely he gets the occasion to wear them these days--but most everything else... He doesn’t have a problem with his body as much as he has a problem with the way clothes that weren’t designed with his proportions in mind make his body look, and on the surface, among humans, that’s just about all of them. Half the shirts he tries on look like ill-fitting crop-tops and even the longest pants end up being capris when he tries to buy off the rack and it’s...frustrating that he can’t just buy something and look good in it right away. Because of that, he has a relatively small closet and tends to wear things that cover him up as much as possible, in dark colors (always black if possible), finding that it accentuates his height and slimness and blends his long limbs and torso into himself to look less odd. He’d probably be happier if he just bought everything he liked and then had it tailored to him, so he could branch out more into some of the types of things he used to wear, but that much tailoring would be expensive and for something he looks on as a vanity... He’s resistant, feeling like there’s just more important things to save and use the money for, like food, medical expenses, actual necessities... A little (a lot) of persuasion from a s/o to treat himself to more than just a mere handful of outfits that he likes and that fit correctly might be helpful in getting him to indulge.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Pretty obvious, he’s most self-conscious about the fact that sometimes he’s not altogether solid. Humans especially don’t seem to think too highly of things that are slimy, goopy, and drippy and caught at the wrong time, he’s all of the above. He doesn’t like the thought of anyone, but especially his s/o being grossed out by him, thinking he’s disgusting or creepy or downright disturbing because he couldn’t keep enough of a handle on his emotions to stay solid and normal. He doesn’t particularly love his eye-lights either, formerly just blue but now ringed with bright, burning red. The color combo can be...intense... and though he isn’t aware of it, he’s definitely been a bit conditioned lately into not making as much direct eye-contact with people as he used to, subconsciously noticing the better, more relaxed response he gets when he looks down or slightly to the side instead. But if we’re talking post-DT integration, when his form is stable and his eye-lights are pink......... he’s not insecure about a damn thing--he worked hard to get his body back and he loves and appreciates every inch of it.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): He tends to expend more energy worrying and being insecure about his personality than anything physical, quite frankly, but if there were something physical...well, even more obvious than his brother, he’s missing a couple limbs and it’s just a bit too fresh for him to be totally comfortable with it yet. There’s a lot he misses and a lot he’s still getting used to doing differently and a lot of mental and emotional baggage from the circumstances that led to him not having legs and he hasn’t really dealt with any of it. As a result, he tends to be self-conscious about anything he can’t do the way he used to before, or any time being in a wheelchair turns something that would be routine for anyone else into an Ordeal... It gets better the more he heals and copes with what happened, and especially when he acknowledges that he does want to try prostheses, even if it means committing to all the time, effort, (metaphorical) blood, (not metaphorical) sweat, and tears that’ll take, but until then... yeah, it’s his lack of legs and wondering if his s/o wouldn’t be happier or at least find it easier to be with a guy who just had two legs and didn’t need to see a prosthetist to get them.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Unapologetic about himself--his scars, his blunt(er) claws, his blindness--but with a human s/o especially, there is one thing he’s at least a little hesitant about. It’s the hole in his face, jagged and dark and unsightly...he assumes. It’s not like he’s ever seen it for himself, but he’s certainly felt a change in atmosphere in the past whenever its been exposed and he can only assume it’s disturbing to look at. When disturbing people is not his end-goal, he tries to keep the hole (mostly) covered with a pair of blind-glasses, and that will definitely be the case with his s/o, too... at least until he can suss out their unique reaction to his injury. If it doesn’t bother them, he’s happy to do away with the glasses in private, but the last thing he wants is to make his datemate uncomfortable and if the sight of his wholly uncovered face has that effect... Perhaps it’s for the best to keep them on, then...

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He’s really conscious of his exaggerated startled response at what feels like every little thing. It isn’t, and it’s wholly understandable and maybe even expected for what he went through Underground (especially those last few weeks), but it frustrates him a lot, especially when he gets a s/o. There’s someone he likes, someone he wants to get to know better and to be close to, and they’re right there, but all they have to do is move too fast or do something he wasn’t ready for and his automatic reaction is to flinch or reel back like they were about to...attack him or something! It’s absolutely a case of his mind knowing one thing and his body knowing another and he hasn’t yet figured out how to make the two of them share notes and realize that one of them might have some more up-to-date information than the other. There’ll be lots of nervous apologizing over it until he gets past thinking that they’re probably one disproportionate flinch from deciding he’s a little too high maintenance to make things work.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): If he could change anything about himself, it would be his hands--or at least, just the holes in the middle of them. Looking through his palms is a very visceral, inescapable reminder that he used to be...or was part of??? somebody else, and that attachment to an identity he no longer owns nor wants makes him a little uncomfortable. He wants to forget all about that stuff and what little he does remember of That Time and just be who he is now without having to think about the past. Still, it’s... always right there, whenever he looks down at his own hands, and some days that’s harder to deal with than others. He knows the circular holes in his palms are probably really cool and interesting to his human s/o, but at the same time, he kind of hopes they don’t pay overly much attention to that part of them. He’s trying to just let his hands be... his hands, and to not attach a whole lot of weird baggage to them. And on days when that doesn’t quite pan out, he’s got all kinds of pockets and gloves and busywork to keep them out of sight, out of mind.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): He tends to spend more time in front of the mirror, tracing the asymmetrical cracks in his skull, than he would ever care to admit. He’s not sure why he dwells on them as much as he does, his brother has them too and doesn’t seem to care about his, but... He doesn’t know what they are, or why they’re there...or how he got them and when...or if they were always there and he...they??? had just been born with them. Maybe he frets and grumbles about them because of what they represent--how much of his...their past was lost when they, as separate beings, came to be, even in spite of sharing what they do know and remember. The life and times of W.D. Gaster are a mystery that can never be completely solved, and that loss bugs him. The cracks make him especially insecure because anyone can see them, right there on his face, and ask what they are or where they came from, and he’ll have no answer, just like he wouldn’t have one for a hundred other completely normal and reasonable questions someone could ask him about his life Before. He definitely dreads and overthinks how to answer those questions from a s/o, in a way that doesn’t either make them think he’s lying to avoid being honest with them or freak them out with too much of a very crazy and unbelievable story too soon. It’s a hard hypothetical balance to strike, and maybe if he didn’t have ‘please ask me something about my past’ essentially written on his face, he’d have more time to figure out how to do it best...

[honestsycrets]

Forgotten Favourite | [ Lagertha x Reader, Ubbe x Reader ABO ]

❛ pairing | ubbe x reader, referenced!lagertha x reader and ragnar x reader and ragnar x lagertha x reader, lagertha x astrid

❛ type | triple shot [SFW this chp]

❛ summary | once upon a time, when things were simple, it wasn’t so difficult to keep Lagertha’s attention. Now that she has Astrid, that’s something else entirely. Maybe Ubbe can help.

❛  tags | ABO, Alpha!Ubbe, Alpha!Lagertha, Omega!Reader, Older Reader, Polygyny, some hallucinations but very minor, angst heavy, much sads reader, but maybe she can get back her voice, dub!con (this chapter has nothing too graphic), chasing, non-canon compliant.

❛ sy’s notes | “Shithead Ubbe” in action.

“Are you well?”

You looked into her eyes, steely and calm, and nodded. Your gaze fell back to the pool of mead between your clean fingertips, chewing on your lower lip. Her hand ran by the neatly woven braid that tumbled down your chest, imbued with gems she brought you from England, and they’re all pointless. If they no longer caught her attention, that was.

“Are you sure?”

“I must be tired, Astrid. I’ll go rest.”

“Should I come with you?” Astrid asked. “It’s…” her hand drops, hovering then at your stomach. “Unsafe.”

“No, no. Don’t strain yourself.” You quipped quickly. “She’ll be looking for you. It is only Kattegat, after all.”

You slipped outside of the Great Hall where a ravenous feast waged the night away on the back of barrels of ale and heaps of bread and fish. She was only a few crowds away discussing alliances with men that she’s earned the respect of being the single most important valkyrie with women like Torvi and Gunnhild. Women of the shield and sword; strong, sexy women like them.

Perhaps that was why she lost interest.

You were regretfully pathetic with a sword. In the world of the House of Lothbrok, you know that outside is not a place you can stay for long being so bad with sword, shield, and even your own fangs. Perhaps its curiosity that led you outside that night. Would she come find you after all these years? After moments turned to minutes, you exhale a cool breath of air.

The answer was plain.

You stepped away from the Great Hall and looked toward the pins with quiet fat piglets, illuminated by the forgiving full moon in the sky. The red hue indicates the start of the festival. Time for sex, drinks, and bond gifting. The mother squeals sound painful as they rutted against their mother for milk before their night’s end.

Your fingers ran across the mark upon your neck. There’s no fancy sigil there, no glowing golden marks, nor claims. Just… the knowledge and reminder of her scent, hurtling you toward a better time. The vastness of the memory is both wide and deep. It would consume you if you let it. It feels less of a bond and more of a distant memory.

“Is something on your mind?” you lifted your eyes from your prison of self-pity to look behind your shoulder. It’s as if the world comes into focus when you recognize him standing there-- Ragnar, his rugged face fading, smoothing-- and no, it’s not Ragnar. Not the man that would steal away in a moment to find you. That face is too smooth, too princely, entitled. It’s Ubbe. He stands a reminder of his father before him when things were easy and good-- and you mattered. He speaks. “You weren’t inside with Lagertha.”

“I didn’t take it anyone would notice.”

He gazes out toward the empty wooden homes, then back, training his eye upon your mutual bonded neck. Your fingers fall away from your neck. “Everyone notices when an omega goes missing.”

It gives you a moment of pause. In the bright moonlight, his long rolls of hair mimic Ragnar’s. Though they weren’t thick and there were no searing tattoos across the expanse of his pale skin. Not like Ragnar’s. How chiseled his body was, cut by scars his younger doppelganger lacked, the likes of the fishhook that dragged from his chest to his bicep. It pangs, strangely, and the memories with it.

And yes, in the heat of the night, under Lagertha’s comforting touch, how he used to sink into you thrust by thrust. You scanned Ubbe over, dragging the soft fur over your shoulders, and stand upright. “Your father told me that once.”

Ubbe’s slender lips pressed together-- firm on thoughts that you could never touch. He ignores the comment. “Come back inside.”  

It’s not a request. It’s an order. He must think that he has something over you to speak to you in such a way, flat and dry, but level in as many parts with commanding. He’s speaking to the wrong woman. Your eyebrows knit together.

“I am not going inside, Ubbe. I am tired of being a wallflower for one night.”

As dramatic as that knowledge was, it was a fact. You had put effort into looking like this, weaving the pearls, fluttering your lashes at her, the only beg for a night. You knew as well as she did that you wouldn’t beg. You were too proud. As was she.

“She’ll miss you.”

Your lip twitches. You look up to hold his gaze, when you can’t anymore because it’s too painful to tell him. Inevitably, you scoff and look at the band around your finger. “We are old enough to be without one another. She has Astrid.”

He grunts. Bent his head down with a small kick out of the rock under his leather boots. Then turning one way before another, he steps forward into your space. As a bonded omega, you instinctually lean away from him, though his arms are unoffending turned one over another, rather than raised against you. His breath is warm against the cool air of the night. “Then let me walk you to your cabin.”

You couldn’t shake him if you tried. You took the first step toward the dusty street that would lead you to your cabin when things had gotten too loud. Bjorn, Astrid, and Lagertha would undoubtedly drink and talk. Bjorn might venture off for sex. Astrid and Lagertha would go to bed together and-- you shook your head to the thought. Your earrings jangle with it.

“Is it an offer or a demand?”

“Maybe both,” Ubbe follows your quick steps with wide strokes. He’s a big man, perhaps bigger than Ragnar, reflecting his mother’s size. He’s like his father, and yet, nothing like him. His eyes share that same heavy shadow after you, but they lack Ragnar’s curiosity. Not in the absence of it, but the purity in which Ragnar was willing to learn.

“You’re approaching a heat. That is why you wanted to leave.”

You stop.

“Is this what--”

“Another strong scent. I thought you were barren. That’s what I’ve been told, after all.”

This then is the part where your lips part, unable to speak your truth. There’s something off-putting about the way he puts it. It isn’t that he’s necessarily off. In recent years, your heats had been coming with less frequency. Your hand feels itchy, fingers twitching, your words were growing in your mind, and failing to come off your tongue.

There’s nowhere to run.

“Ubbe--” you took a step back, then another, and Ubbe doesn’t mind. It excites him. His eyes are wide blown, rimmed with a blue that was clearer than the sea. He is strange. Most men would turn away from older women and yet-- he comes closer. “When was your last rut?”

“Why does that matter?”

He knows why it matters. You know why it matters. It was pure instinct for Ubbe to mate. It did not matter what Torvi or Margrethe said of the matter. You had only thought you were exempt-- given who your woman was. He feels huge compared to your body, illuminated only by the soft glint of the moonlight-- moonlight. It shone in the sky in brilliant disarray. It was a full traitorous moon.

Words fold on one another in your chest, rising and falling with renewed effort, as if to know what he was about to do. Your eyes make the mistake of latching upon his, delving into deep eye contact, one where his eyes look infinitely darker, and where you’re petrified to break it as if to know that the first one who released it would be the first one to act.

There’s something to be said for an old omega-- they know how to run, how to escape the advances of a drunk alpha, who caught a little bit too strong of a whiff of something he was never entitled to have. But, as alphas go-- once the scent was imprinted in their memory, they would never let it go. You know you don’t stand a chance at outrunning him. He’s too young, too spry, too ready. And you had just fallen headfirst into his trap of the perfectly calm carer.

You pivot your heels and run an omega’s run.

Her name is on your tongue like a chant, sobbing past the frustration of your woven sandals snatching sand through the alleyway. He’s not at all like Bjorn. Bjorn you can outrun, his shape isn’t made for long-distance runs. He’s heavy muscle and bad decisions. When you’re faced with someone like Ubbe, limber and quick, you know there is an issue.

It’s too easy for him to slam into longhouses. You scramble over the empty barrels of ale, scratching with desperate squeaks crying out to the stragglers on the streets for someone to hold him back. You fall on the other side of the barrels, catching your long skirts in bundles, and rush out the alleyway.

And it’s quiet.

Your head snaps down the alley where one sole barrel rolls on its side onto the ground. On the other side, it’s eerily still. The only noise is that of your chest rising and dropping to the tune of Kattegat’s rich ocean some great distance away. His scent is there, foggy and strong, seeping into your lungs in suffocating realization. It hits you all at once, connecting your back to an abandoned barn, where only slaves and pigs lived.

“Don’t move.” He’s so strong, pinning your hips to the barn, that you don’t realize how strongly he’s crushing you, ensuring you couldn’t run. Or think. Or cry out with his mouth fitted clasped over your neck. His gnashing fangs bite the fight out of your lungs, snapping time and again, and it hurts, but what can you do?

You sought something out— anything that is a bridge between reality and the teeth sinking into your neck. That encouraged the flow of your juices over your thighs and an undoubted excitement of the hunt. Instead, you’re so full of the rich, syrupy scent of a lover that reality melts like a pat of butter under summer day. It’s all Ubbe, flooding your nose, infesting your senses.

It hurts. And yet, it soothes the distant ache of your loneliness.

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[thetypedwriter]

Firekeeper’s Daughter Book Review

Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that all of my in-depth reviews contain spoilers. 

Firekeeper’s Daughter Book Review by Angeline Boulley 

Well, this book review came quicker than I thought it would (which after weeks since my last published review for an actual novel that may sound absurd, but I promise it isn’t). 

There’s a lot of great things about this book and a lot of really important representation, but I also found it to be an incredible slog to trudge through. 

Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley is the story of a girl by the name of Daunis Fontaine who finds herself stuck between two worlds: her Fontaine side, also known as her zhaaganaash or white side, and her Native side, or known as her Anishinaabe side, or even more specifically, Ojibwe side. 

The debut novel from Boulley mainly describes Daunis’ struggle between these two worlds, the important people in them, and the war within herself to follow her heart, her gut, and her mind. 

In the background of this identity struggle, or perhaps largely influenced by it, Daunis finds herself inexplicably tangled up in a secret federal investigation into a specific type of meth being produced in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula that affects people not only in her community, but other Native communities as well. 

Suddenly finding herself becoming a spy, Daunis starts to learn and keep secrets, those in regards to the investigation as well as those regarding her feelings for fellow investigator-Jamie Johnson-an undercover narcotics cop posing as the cute new highschooler in town. 

As Daunis deals with her own internal struggles, her community, her relationships, and her burgeoning romance, her past, future, and present all collide and come to a head in this new novel. 

Now. Reading this summary, you might be thinking: this book sounds awesome! Love? Undercover cops? Drugs? Mystery? It has everything. 

And you’d be right. 

When I first read the jacket cover for this novel I knew it was a book I was inevitably going to read. Everything from the gorgeous cover art, to the intriguing summary, to the representation of Native Americans, I was completely drawn in. 

Too bad I didn’t like it very much. 

I will start off by saying that I think this book is incredible in its realistic depiction of the Ojibwe experience and I know how important it is to increase representation of all kinds of people and backgrounds in literature, especially YA literature. 

Boulley did an absolutely stunning job of relaying the nitty-gritty of the Ojibwe community-the elders, the geography, the food, the stigma, the finances, the politics, the reputation, the racism, the prejudice, the community, the love, the healing, and so much more. 

I always am in awe when authors utilize the golden rule of write what you know. Per the back jacket of the novel, Boulley herself states that she is an enrolled member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians and an active storyteller of the Ojibwe community. 

This is beyond incredible. Having an accurate and active portrayal of people writing and drawing from their own experiences are powerful and significant. I could taste, feel, and see how clear and how real Boulley made the novel. 

I questioned a lot of things during this read, but the Ojibwe community in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula was not one of them. From vocabulary to the extreme details depicting Sugar Island to the care and craft when talking about specific ceremonies like funerals, Boulley did an outstanding job of bringing in what she knows from her own experience and that of her community in order to breathe life into these pages. 

This was by far the best part of the novel for me. 

On the back jacket, Boulley also states that she was a former Director of the Office of Indian Education at the U.S. Department of Education. While I did not know this until a few minutes ago when I sat down to write this review, I am in no way surprised. 

The book was extremely intelligent. I could viscerally tell that Boulley knows her stuff and does her research. Everything from biology and chemistry processes and vocabulary, to mushroom identification, to legal matters like having an underage informant, politics regarding becoming a member of the Ojibwe Tribe, and due process of the law regarding FBI cases was very clear cut, very detailed, and obviously very accurate. 

I appreciated how much time and effort was put into this, even if I did find a lot of it bone dry and dull, I still could appreciate the time, effort, and knowledge to make sure that everything in the novel was precise and correct. 

That being said, it also made the book come across almost like an informational pamphlet at times, or like I was reading non-fiction. I understand being accurate, and I applaud her for that, but I don’t need or want five pages of in-book description of how one of these processes work. Just give me the bare-bones outline and I will go from there and look it up more if I so desire. 

This brings me to my first critique of this book and a large reason it was so tedious to get through: it was mind-numbingly long. 

Now. I just read a 2,000 page fanfiction not that long ago. That is long, you could argue, and you would be right. But, none of All of the Young Dudes was a bore to get through (sad, sure, but not boring), whereas whole sections of Firekeeper’s Daughter were too dragged out and too explicitly explained that I inevitably got bored and nodded off. 

The pace was too slow and too bogged down with unimportant details, like Daunis’ daily visits to the elders or her overthinking every single thing, or her making lists of all the things she doesn’t know (these are long lists). 

She often spends whole pages grieving about her Uncle David as well as her best friend Lily, and while understandable and realistic in real life, it was not fun nor productive to read about over and over and over again. 

Take for example, the very beginning of the book. It takes over 100 pages for Daunis to realize the new-boy-next-door isn’t who he says he is and that he’s actually an undercover cop here to investigate a new strain of meth and asks for her help. 

Over 100 pages of set up. 

It was so goddamn boring. 

It got better once she became involved with the investigation, but then so did the whining, the overthinking, and the reflecting. The first 100 pages could have been condensed to 20. No joke, I would have gotten the same exposition out of that I did. 

In addition, despite things taking so long or not serving a purpose, I was often confused about what was happening, which is an overall unpleasant experience. Boulley simultaneously describes everything and yet nothing at the same time.

 The reason for this discrepancy is because she often used native language to describe feelings, events, people, etc and while some of the words I learned over time, often the words left me confused or bewildered. 

I appreciate the use of native language, but it also left me with big gaps while reading or made me struggle to put pieces together as they were happening. 

The pace of the novel overall was incredibly bad. Things either took 12 years or two minutes. The actual plot to show up? 12 Years. Daunis and Jamie to fall in love classic YA style? Two minutes. Daunis to find Uncle David’s notebook? 12 years. The final confrontation of the bad guys? Two minutes. 

With any event, it either felt sluggish or way too quick and mashing these two together in one novel was disorienting and frustrating, not to mention it made me not want to read. 

Additionally, while I generally thought the plot was very interesting, who doesn’t like undercover cop stories? I thought all of the characters were very forgettable or downright shells. 

Daunis was...a textbook female character in my eyes. The way she spouted off knowledge like the periodic table to fall asleep or reciting the scientific method wasn’t cool or new, it was irritating.

To me she wasn’t real. 

She was someone’s idea of a female character who seemed cool, but wasn’t. Nothing about Daunis made me think of her as a great character. If anything, she just seemed like an empty vessel I was reading the book through, like the book was happening to me instead (cough cough Mary Sue). 

Some of you may be upset with this statement, and that’s fine, but other than her love of science, her knowledge of geography, and her ties to the community, nothing about Daunis was a real person. 

She hardly had friends, I don’t recall learning anything she liked or disliked (other than Jamie, hockey, and running) , and she was entirely surmised of the people who had left her and the identity struggle she had been born with. I don’t mean to undermine people who struggle with their identity, I know that’s important, but there is more to people than just that. 

None of the other characters are frankly worth mentioning. 

You might ask, what about Jamie? The shadowy, scarred love interest?

*Shrugs*

He’s fine. Genuinely that’s all I can say about him. We don’t even learn his real name as Jamie Johnson is a fake. All I know is that he’s got curly hair, a scar, and doesn’t know who he is. It’s hard to like a character when the character themselves have no idea of who they are. 

The other characters either die or are in the background to progress the plot along. 

To be fair, it’s a good plot. It’s intriguing, it’s mysterious, and I learned more than I ever thought I would about meth and mushrooms, but it doesn’t make up for the dead-end characters or the pacing issues. 

I didn’t hate it, but I also didn’t like it. I guess I can say that I feel indifferent about this book, although the representation of Native Americans bumps it up slightly for me from being dead average. 

The storytelling isn’t spectacular, even if the idea is promising, but if you have been searching for representation like this in YA I can see how this book would be much more impactful and important and I’m happy to have it as a part of the YA collective. 

Recommendation: At the end of the day, this novel is a true smorgasbord. I love the representation, the draws from Boulley’s real life, and the intelligence, but I didn’t see any of the characters as real people, the pacing issues made it hard to gain and keep interest going, and the dialogue often came across to me as someone's warped version of what teenager’s sound like. 

Score: 6/10

[infinitethree]

hi daydream. you are my second favorite. how do you cope with having a really big family? does it ever get too crowded?

That one makes Day grin a little. Sure, some of the questions have been a little…less than kind, but this type? The ones asking about his family without jabbing at their scars? These he likes.

He’s in a study of some sort, light and airy and with a boggling amount of books crammed into the many floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He sits at a big desk, books and papers and post it notes scattered across the oak surface. It’s not quite clear what he’s doing, but whatever it is seems to require a fair bit of cross-referencing and general research.

The pencil he’s holding is spun slowly through his fingers as he speaks. “It’s really not that bad. We split up the houses so that there’s enough room for us to have spaces for our interests outside of just our rooms. Some of those are detached from our houses–Dee’s forge and the Magic Haus, for instance. Atlas’ work areas–plural–are connected to his and Quizzy’s house through the store, but it’s pretty clearly delineated. Theo and I both share this study, Perce has…we’ll call it a nerd cave, affectionately, and leave it at that. Orpheus has a room dedicated to music–writing, playing, recording, storing, collecting, all of it. Lee spends a lot of time in the Magic Haus and we’re working on plans for a place where he can work with poison safely.”

Day rolls his eyes a little and adds, “I’d really rather he not poison the groundwater by accident, nor for anything he might grow or raise for their venomous or poisonous qualities to escape. He’s very excited about it.” He leans back in his seat, a fond smile forming. His tone is equally as fond in the same way it always is when he talks about his kids. “As much as it’s good for them to have spaces for themselves, it’s just as important we do things together. We all eat at least a few meals together a week. I usually make breakfast, too, though that’s more…they wander in and out over the course of an hour or two and grab what they want. We also do training–which you’ve seen a bit of. We go on trips to peaceful worlds as well just to take advantage of the fact that we can.”

There’s a brief pause as he accidentally flings his pencil across the room. He frowns at it like it personally offended him, but doesn’t get up to go grab it. Instead, he opens a drawer and pulls out another one. He immediately starts doing the same motion with it.

“We all also go to therapy, on an individual basis. It was…frustrating, at first, but I can’t argue with the results of the server-wide ‘therapy or else’ mandate Vio started. It’s still boggling that he turned his spite into a force for good. It’s…okay, actually, I can definitely believe that about him. In the SMPza he was known for doing things vindictively. Everyone learned quickly not to piss him off and not to get in his debt. We did business sometimes, and it was always…stressful. To put it mildly.”

Memories of an underground office and eyes that saw everything, of secrets sold and kept for the sake of money rise to the forefront of his mind. It was always with the implicit knowledge that to stop was to damn his family that Day had paid Vio–Purpled, then–to say nothing of anything he learned about his family.

And the equally implicit knowledge that there was no other option, not really. Theo, for all his strengths, had weaknesses as well. He was also a huge target for prestige, for revenge, and as a convenient enemy.

It’s easy to rally people against a monster. Day would know; it’s what had damned him in his first life.

He realizes he’s been quiet for a few minutes before he shakes the melancholy and starts speaking again. “I like the setup here. I especially like not having to hear Atlas or Dee hammering metal at three in the morning. Dee’s forge is separate for that very reason. Quizzy is the only one who can sleep though Atlas’ insomnia-fueled work because he sleeps like the dead. There have been more than a few people who have felt the need to check for his pulse to make sure he’s still alive. I’ve been one of them, before I realized that’s just how he is. Few things have been quite as harrowing as being afraid I’d have to explain to Atlas that his best friend was dead and I’d been the one to find his body.”

The pencil flies away again; Day makes a noise of frustration at the loss. He pulls another one out, this evidently being a regular enough occurrence for him that he kept a stash for when they went flying off. That or he lost them in other ways with alarming frequency.

“...Theo and Lee living in the same house with me would be more of a concern if Theo and I weren’t very used to navigating being around each other all the time or if Theo and Lee got along less. Theo adores his baby brother, though, and as far as Lee is concerned his eldest brother hangs the moon. It won’t stop Theo’s eventual death by poison, but it has stopped Lee from trying to smother him in his sleep. It hasn’t stopped their brothers, though, which is why Theo’s room is on the opposite side of the house.” His eyes roll as he starts tapping his pencil on the desk instead of spinning it.

People always assume that he’s exaggerating when he calls his sons horrible little gremlins, but–no. They’re all terrors in their own way. He stands by calling them that at the same time as he stands by loving them with his entire heart. “I have a hard enough time sleeping without having to hear the attempted murder. There have been a few times where said attempted murders were stopped because Lee had snuck in because of a nightmare or bad weather or some other reason. Unfortunately for Theo, his baby brother doesn’t need that any more. Lee also would be just as likely to use it as a chance to stab him in his sleep as genuinely need comfort. It would be hilarious, honestly, because Theo would absolutely deserve it.” He pauses and then adds, “...It probably also helps that there’s a small army who have decided that Lee is the most important thing. I’m still not sure how that happened–they just…started wearing ear cuffs and saying they were going to protect Lee. Not even Atlas realized what the cuffs were for and he made them.”

If he were to attempt to dig into the history of the group, he knows he’ll find more than he’s meant to. That normally wouldn’t be a concern–would usually be a reason to start digging in the first place–but Aster has proven his trustworthiness over the years. Day trusts his eldest’s judgement, too; if Aster gave him any bad vibes, he never would have gotten an earring.

Earrings matter in their family. Earrings, at least ones that hold family stones, aren’t given out lightly. The six studs in Day’s ears and the lapis pair that each of his sons have are the representation of their bonds. The first things Atlas ever directly handed to him were earrings–earrings he still owns.

Their bonds are ones forged of jewelry and braids and wings. Hand-made armor and weapons perfectly designed for each of them; names that are oaths and oaths taken in turn. Nights spent in silent vigil when the weight of a thousand worlds weighs too heavily to bear alone, meals spent bickering over petty bullshit, movie nights that end with everyone asleep before the credits roll. None of it should exist, and none of it gives a single fucking shit about that fact.

So for Aster to have an earring from Theo–the one who has a chorus of voices whispering in his head and who has won wars while blind with his cleverness and ruthlessness? That counts for a lot.

[kandyrezi]

Anonymous said: How would the yandere gods of Okegom react to their darling attempting to escape??

(tw: descriptions of various torture methods.)

- : - : - : - : - : -

⌜etihw.⌟

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to sneak out and leave, the god expected something like this to happen but hoped they wouldn’t have to deal with it again – odds are someone would’ve seen you leave and you won’t end up making it very far from the observant eyes of a god. They would want to know where you are at all times for the sake of your own safety.

Surely enough, they would end up finding you stuck and tangled in a rose bush in the apple forest not far from the gray village. They would smile slightly and remark how clumsy you are, before making the bush disappear and untangling you from the stems. Seeing multiple thorns pierced inside your skin, they would heal those too, then ask how you managed to get here in the first place.

It was a little humiliating having been found like this, but you couldn’t lie and say you were just going for a walk, the god already observed your body language to know how you always looked away when answering with a lie. You stutter for a bit looking for an excuse before feeling the urge to tell everything like a reflex to vomit, that you were going to run away, how you couldn’t bear being constantly treated like a helpless child anymore!

Etihw is only quietly listening to your doubts and troubles. The god isn’t cruel to their lover nor do they have any desire to be cruel if it can be helped. They would instead apologize for their overprotective tendencies, thinking that their smothering must have driven you to run away. That won’t mean they’re going to let you go, or that they won’t continue doing the exact same thing as before, reasoning your behavior to be that of a rebellious adolescent you’ll eventually get over; given they were literally ancient, it isn’t too far off from the truth in their eyes.

“I only want to keep you safe with me, I won’t harm you… don’t you trust me?” They basically guilt-trip you into staying, saying how they simply cannot function without you by their side. The fact you felt mild guilt over it just makes it easier for them to deal with next time.

⌜siralos.⌟

Siralos sees this as an ultimate act of betrayal – he took you in and gave you a lavished life in exchange for your loyalty and undivided adoration, and this is how you choose to show your gratefulness, by spitting on his affections and stomping on the fidelity he was willing to grant, a privilege only to be dreamed of by others.

You’ve betrayed his trust and he sees no reason to take you back. Second chances are practically unheard of from the volatile sun god.

If you really did love him like you claimed (were manipulated) to, then you wouldn’t have done this, but you’ve shown your true colors and you will be dealt with accordingly.

He’ll make you pay for this, probably by ending your life. He’ll have one of his angels find you and drop you like discarded garbage in front of him as he stands above you, sneering at the sight of you. You’re trembling beneath his feet, daring you to beg for forgiveness in one last moment of mockery - not that he is going to listen, but he will revel in it by having the last laugh once you take your final breath as you’re stabbed through the heart, reminiscent of the heartbreak you caused him with your disloyalty.

...then kicking away the remains of your ashes in disgust and will remember you as nothing more than a fleeting fling to pass the time.

⌜elux.⌟

It’s obvious they’re not going to take very kindly to it. Elux would give you a chance to come back to them voluntarily, or the punishment they’re about to dish out will be much worse. Luckily for them, you’re struggling to decide on what to do, but are ultimately compliant and wise enough to realize you won’t have much chance trying to run from a god.

They don’t like getting their hands dirty if it can be helped though, so they order their seraphim angel, Sol, to give you a couple of ‘marks’ as reminders of what happens to those who defy them. By which, they mean having you tied to a post with limbs immobile and the seraph angel leaving deep lacerations and bloodied cuts across your skin with her sword. She doesn’t look disturbed in the slightest as she’s stoically carrying out her god’s orders without a complaint.

Elux probably gets off on humiliating you in front of their angels, though they’ll just claim it’s for the greater good and pretend it’s something they’re simply ‘forced’ to do to keep you in line. They won’t even have to force you to apologize – you’re already doing it on your own free volition with whining and crying for them to order Sol to cease inflicting harm on you.

The seraph will be tasked to carry you to Lord Elux’s quarters without a word, where they can take care of you afterwards and patch up your wounds, caressing their hands over you in almost a loving manner.

“Oh, just what would you do without your god to make everything better again?” they ask in a soothing voice. You don’t know how could the punishment possibly have been worse if you hadn’t come back voluntarily, or if it would have been the same no matter what you’d chosen to do, but you don’t want to think about that right now.

⌜fumus.⌟

If you know what happened to Nadine when she left, but then Fumus found her later anyway, then you already know how you’re going to end up. If you didn’t already catch the hint from his other angels who disobey or go against him, then you’re either a foolish fool or took whatever scraps of bravery you had left to try and find a safe haven in some other world – it matters not because Fumus isn’t about to let his possessions do whatever they please without his knowledge.

He starts with pulling your teeth first, maybe slicing your tongue so the back of your throat is filled with blood as you fervently choke on your apologies. You’re nailed against the wall as his favorite pair of scissors leave deep patterns of bloodied scarring in places he knows hurts the most while you wail helplessly, wishing you could go back to when you first asked the other angels for help escaping, if only you’d listened to them when they told you not to try.

You’re defiled by him from both inside and out as you’re forced on the ground while he fucks you until he’s certain you feel filthy and used up – just how he wants you.

“Now... is there something you’d like to say to me?” he forces you to thank him after all that for being merciful and keeping you alive for trying to betray him, and you will do exactly that.

He leaves your naked body laying there on the cold cement floor for a good while to lap at your own wounds. You don’t know when he’ll be coming back... it could take hours up to several days, you barely find the strength to count them out at this point.

⌜liliya.⌟

Similarly to Siralos, Liliya would see your actions as an act of betrayal, and not in fact a desperate attempt of escaping the chains he has you metaphorically tightly confined with. He thought the two of you had grown close and you’d begun to accept his affection for you – clearly, he was wrong. He will find you - you breathe for him, how can you even think about leaving the love of your life, he thinks to himself.

As big of an egomaniac he is, his emotional state is more unstable than Siralos’ and that’s the main point differentiating the two of them when it comes to his reaction regarding you trying to leave.

Despite his selfishness and inability to see faults in his own actions, Liliya is lonely and he does see you as the most important person to him, for that reason he doesn’t want to just disregard and replace you with anyone else, even if he very well could.

He’s less likely to lose his temper with you, though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have short-lasting patience if you keep pushing his buttons. He attempts to mask his anger, but it’s still blatantly obvious when he tells you, “I’ll clip those wings of yours, so you can no longer fly. You keep forgetting who your superior here is, little lily.”

His threats aren’t empty and keeps his word; he breaks the bones of your wings from the first joint, assuming you’re an angel – but breaking any other part of your body isn’t out of the question either. He promises that next time he won’t be so merciful of your mishaps.

- : - : - : - : - : -

( a/n: the reason why I put this request out so fast is because I already had this pre-written in advance lol since I intended for this is to be a sister headcanon post to the devils one i wrote! so thanks anon for giving me the excuse to finally post this. )

[owlsoldwritingcorner]

The Ghost (Part 2)

Pairing :Wrench x Reader

AO3 Link

Summary:

“So. You a big fan of hackers?”

“I guess you can say that. ” You may not be able to make a coherent string of codes but you know that vague code speak means: He’s in the group.

Note: 

Here's the look reader has in this chapter!

(The helmet and biker suit is the main canonical look reader has cuz it's important to the fic, underneath you can insert your own look)

Chapter 2: Fresh Air and Graffiti

You woke up to the smell of your grandmother’s cooking, checking your phone revealed it was 8 in the damn morning. God you weren’t ready for the strong smells so early in the morning. Looks like Ripley wasn’t either considering she was already away and giving you her big ole puppy eyes that just scream “Walk time? Walk time!”.

Such a sweetie.

“Let’s get you some breakfast first before we can think of any w-a-l-k-i-e-s, alrighty?” Oh gosh, she gave you a little nod and a gentle ruff, you’re gonna get killed by the cuteness of a pup. Not by any of those burly men with guns that you’re so used to on the job, and obviously, you welcome this kind of death with open arms.

Getting up, you cleaned yourself up from the rest of your grogginess and went to the kitchen to fill up Ripley’s food bowl but not before taking a puff of your daily asthma medicine.

Gah… The smell of dried fish was getting more and more prominent now. The dried fish your grandma makes for the conge tastes so good but god it smells like the ocean flooded the house and dried up.

“Mom! Did you really have to make that fish so early in the morning?” Looks like your aunt was up and at ‘em too now. Strong smells always did make her grumpier.

“ It takes so long to fully seep and cook this fish so I should just cook it now! ” Your aunt looked as if she was going to pop a blood vessel already.

“Mom. Now the whole house smells like fish. You could have made it tomorrow or even later today!” You just sighed as your aunt and grandma argued, you really didn’t want a headache so early in the morning…

Ripley was done eating her breakfast so it was time to go for some walkies. Maybe Ripley will make some friends in this neighborhood? You brought out some body spray for yourself to put on once you’re out of the house, your emergency inhaler, then finally you put the pit-bull on her leash. Hopefully a walk around will ease your headache a bit.

So far so good.

It was sunny and surprisingly nice out, your little pup was letting out some energy and you got some fresh air. You finally arrived at a small dog park, certainly not the park Clara told you about. That hideout is about 20 more minutes away from where you’re currently at.

You sat at one of the benches to give your feet some rest, your little pit-bull laid down next to you on the bench, her head on your lap and wanting you to pet her as you two relaxed. You smiled before slowly starting to go into a daze, your eyelids drooped a bit from the nice temperature and your little friend snored away on your lap before your mind finally started to dream away as you stared into space.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Run.

You needed to run.

You have to get out of here.

Opaque silhouettes slithered after you, their limbs contorting as they ran on all fours, letting out whaling cries as if trying to coax you into stopping. Its grotesque body leaving mucus in its wake.

But it didn’t work.

It only made you run faster.

Faster and faster until--

You choked.

The air was knocked out of you as one of the silhouette’s slimy, long arms grabbed one of your legs causing you to fall forward. You tried to crawl away, your nails scratching the concrete below to no avail. You looked behind you to see the mass of disgusting limbs catching up to you, still holding onto your captive leg.

As you continue to try to get away from the creature, you see another silhouette step in front of you and kneel down, and outstretched as if saying “Here. Let me help you up”. This one was different from the ones trying to chase you, they weren’t contorted or slimy nor did they have any extra limbs on their body.

You were so close to reaching for that gentle hand when--

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Excuse me?” You woke up from your daydream by that new voice trying to get your attention. Looking up, you see a man (probably just a couple years older than you) wearing dark lensed glasses and had a light moustache and a soul patch. You also noted the shirt he wore.

Dedsec.

You wanted to snort. The Chicago branch would instantly kick that person out for wearing something so blatant. They’d hate seeing their name with a face.

“Hey, uh, sorry for intruding, I just wanted to pet your dog. Don’t really see many Pitbulls in this neighborhood.” You raised an eyebrow, most people would be terrified of Ripley and cross the street from you two (Granted, she is a big dog with large scars and cropped ears, you can’t fully blame them for being intimidated.) But you gave the man a little nod, he seemed nice enough.

“Sure, she’d love the attention.” The man immediately went to work, giving Ripley little scratches behind her ears, cooing as she gave him some kisses.

“What’s her name?”

“Ripley.”

“As in Ellen Louise Ripley ?”

“Yep. They’re both super tough, so, I just named her accordingly.” You mumbled, god it’s been so long since you had social interaction with a new human. The man just chuckled.

“I can tell, she definitely looks like she been through some stuff.”

You let out a little hum, “She was rescued from one of those dog fighting rings.” He nodded.

“Poor girl. Looks like she’s in better hands now though.” You chuckled as you scratched behind Ripley’s cropped ears, your eyes wandered back to the man’s Dedsec shirt. Honestly you can’t tell if he’s just a big fan or actually part of the group.

“So. You a big fan of hackers?”

“I guess you can say that. You into what Dedsec has to say?” You may not be able to make a coherent string of codes but you know that vague code speak means: He’s in the group.

“They have some good points. Highlighting vulnerabilities and weaknesses in the CTOS systems, showcasing how Blume truly acts. It’s like embarrassing the prom king on stage, I’m all for that.” The man raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

“You seem to have your share of Dedsec knowledge.”

“I’m from Chicago, they’re a pretty big deal there too. Dunno about here.”

“That explains it. Heard they released some pretty big blackmail over there.” You gave the man a nonchalant hum. Dedsec’s blackmail, huh? Aiden did most of the work though…

“I heard that too.”

Checking the time it was already almost 12 pm, that fuckin online college got you on a damn leash. Plus, you were getting pretty hungry, you did skip out on breakfast in favor of feeding Ripley.

“Well, I need to be on my way now. Hope you have a nice day.”

“Oh, you too. I’m Marcus by the way. I have a feeling I might see you again.” Well that sounds only mildly ominous, but, certainly not the worst you’ve heard. The taller man reached out his hand for a handshake, to which you reluctantly shook and gave Marcus your name.

“It was nice meeting you, Marcus.”

You nudged Ripley a bit to let her know you two were heading home now only for her to whine a bit but obliging. Yeah, you don’t wanna smell like fish again but… You really needed to at least finish the week’s assignments. You gave Marcus a final goodbye wave as you walked home with your dog by your side.

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

You flopped onto your bed in defeat.

Why the fuck did this online school have to give you so much work every week? Well, you managed to do a few weeks worth of work and should be free earlier for Dedsec work.

Speaking of, it’s almost time to meet your new “coworkers”. It's time to suit up.

Donning your binder, biker’s helmet and suit, you made sure to test out the helmet’s voice modulator and check for any kinks. Afterwards, it was time for some real clothes! The skin tight biker suit feels pretty breezy despite you not being actually naked. At least the binder makes you look like a super buff guy, not to mention the boots give you some extra height. You really need those 3 extra inches…

Let’s see…

Pastel week? Or maybe something vintage? Or perhaps some fall colors would be nice! Sweaters always feel nice. But, it has been a while since you’ve done a punk week…

Well! It’s been decided!

Finally, you were ready for work. Giving Ripley a final forehead kiss and head pat, you headed for your destination.

Weird that a notorious hacker group put one of their hideouts in a nerdy tabletop shop. Then again, it doesn’t raise a lot of suspicion on the outside. Looking around, you see a bunch of people rolling their 20 sided dice on the tables. You always did want to play Dungeons and Dragons, never had the time to read up on it though. You walked towards the back, ignoring any wandering eyes. But no one really spoke up against you being there, they looked too scared to even try if they actually wanted to.

Aha. There was the entrance. You pushed in the pass-code Clara gave you and viola! You’re in. You took in the appearance of the entrance down the hackerspace. The graffiti is quite a look. Most of the Dedsec graffiti back home were mostly on CTOS ads or other signposts, this is a stark contrast from those dark hacker rooms in Chicago. But, you certainly didn’t mind it. Actually heading into the space itself revealed it looked more like a hacker’s man cave or hangout spot than a big name hacker group meet up room. Dedsec’s name was graffitied around every inch of the room, the table in the middle was filled with snacks, beers, and some computer equipment, and there were some really old rage comics memes near the 3d printer area.

Looks like you’re the first person here though. You sat at the sofa area, crossing your legs. God, the spaces back home needs a sofa like this instead of those rackety pull out chairs. Just as you were getting used to the appearance of… Everything. The sound of the sliding door and footsteps catches your ears. Guess it was introduction time.

Turning around and facing the first person you got to the space first, you were greeted with a familiar face.

“You guys should have seen Mr. Weak Chin’s face in perso--” The man locked eyes with you as you gave him a little wave.

Marcus. Your instincts had always been pretty on point.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” His hand was hidden behind him, probably reaching for a weapon to prepare himself from any surprise attacks. You only raise your hands to tell him you don’t mean any harm. Just as you were going to let him know why you’re here, the rest of the crew came down. Marcus wasn’t the only familiar face around here.

Your hidden eyes gazed into familiar digital Xs.