#somebody is probably going to come in and oppose to me all sorts of facts and arguments

[mask131]

Hey, you all who make Greek mythology posts and videos and whatnot. Could you... stop treating "Protogenoi" as if it was some sort of clear-cut category of Greek mythology?

I don't know through who or when the whole "Oh yeah, Protogenoi is a definitive character-class of Greek mythology" began. I suspect it might have something to do with the Theoi website - which a LOT of person are using as a resource. But it definitively was popularized by the Percy Jackson fandom...

Olympian is a "category" of gods in Greek mythology, recognized both in religion and in poetry/fiction. It designates the gods that dwell on Olympus - twelve in its most limited acception, but many more if you extend it. Titan is also a specific "category", a denomination that isn't given randomly and whose exact meaning is debated (what is its etymology? Why were they named that way?), but it is the name the previous generation of gods before the Olympians received.

"Protogenoi"? Protogenoi is just putting a cap on an adjective that means "The first-borns". It is not a proper name. And I think I should insist on first bornSSSS because "protogenoi" is a plural, so stop using it as a singular. It isn't even a proper qualificative, because sometimes "protogenoi" is never used, other time you have "protogenos" as the qualificative of just ONE god. It is literaly just a broad and vast adjective to mean "they were the first gods". There isn't any official list like the Olympians or the Titans.

There is not, in Greek religion, or even in Greek poetry, a clear definition or any exact limit as to what a "protogenos" is - IF the term is even used! Because, unlike Olympians or Titans or Nereids or Oceanids, it is NOT an actual "religious terminology" or "mythological terminology". Look at all the encyclopedias of Greek mythology before the early 2010s, look at all the lists of Greek gods written during the 20th century... There will be talks of "primordial gods", of "elderly gods", of "first gods" - but you will see nobody using "Protogenoi" with a cap to make them equal to Olympians or Titans. That's... that's not how Greek mythology works.

Honestly, you can just use "primordial gods", it works the same.

And in general people have been completely taking qualifications of the Greek gods out of their context... Like "Chthonian gods". People treat it as if it was a specific clan or family of gods which... is not correct? "Chthonian" was an important religious and mythological concept in Ancient Greece - they literaly invented the adjective - but it was not like the Olympians or the Titans? It was a much broader category - it is literaly the same way you have "sea gods" and "sky gods". Chthonian gods are just the deities below the earth, and of the underworld... Not even of death sometimes (as many like to say), just below-the-earth, literaly "under the world", as opposed to celestial entities. (It is such a broad category that it can be used in other mythologies, and it has been used as such by researchers, archeologists and other historians of religion... Osiris is a chthonian power, a chthonic god! Though after that we enter the whole debate of "Should we use Greco-Roman terms like pantheon to designate gods of other cultures?")

Yes there are specific, clear-cut "groups" in Greek mythology. Clans and families and siblinghoods of gods. Nereids and Oceanids and Olympians and Titans and the Anemoi... But there are other groups which are not as integral to the Greek religion/myths or as clear cut as people seem to believe they are. "Sky gods", "earth gods", "sea gods", "primordial gods" are present as vague groups in Greek mythology but please stop treating them as if they had a distinction as important as the Aesir and Vanir. Greek mythology isn't just one big list or a big catalogue filled with neatly numbered boards. Where is the limit between a minor god and a daemon? Who knows! Not all Olympians are celestial gods: take Poseidon! And some gods literaly break all the established boundaries: for example Hekate, so beloved by everybody here - chthonian and celestial all at the same time!

[thedeliverygod]

Repostober: Day 9

A lil drabble about Yato finding his own way and drifting from his father & Nora for the first time.

Turning Point

“Where are you going?”

A light voice cut through the darkness, causing him to jump. Letting out a huff, he continued to feel his way around the trees, “Go home, Hiiro.”

“If I’m going home, then you need to go, too.” She answered automatically, trailing behind him, “Father will be angry with both of us, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care what Father says or does anymore.” He narrowed his eyes, hastily continuing forward, “I’m going off on my own.”

“Why would you do that?” Her voice rose, curious and confused.

He finally paused and glanced back at her, “Because he just uses us. Can’t you see that?”

Hiiro immediately glared in response, “Father loves us.” He finally was just a bit taller than her, but he found the small girl was just as intimidating as she had been when he was a small child.

“Only if we do as he wants.” He corrected before starting to walk again.

Hiiro dashed out in front of him and stopped him in his tracks, “Why wouldn’t we? He’s the reason you even exist in the first place, correct? And I likely would have become food for the ayakashi if I hadn’t been named. We both owe him everything.”

He lowered his head and bit his lip, acknowledging, “I know that. But… I just can’t do it anymore. I’m going to find other wishes to grant.”

“Why are you hesitating? Did you disobey Father and talk to somebody else again?” She didn’t say her name, but he knew that she meant Sakura, “You never cared before her. And even after her, you still did as you were told for a long time.”

“No, I didn’t talk to anyone.” He mumbled, barely audible.

But he often thought about the things Sakura taught him, and how he felt when he was with her, as opposed to his so called family. He’d also watched human families in secret for his own sort of validation, and sure he saw some elements of what he had, but the differences were clear. So very clear.

And as for other gods, well… He’d really only had a few experiences with Tenjin, and needless to say they weren’t great ones, but there were no other gods that he had heard of with a situation even somewhat close to what he had. And there definitely was never a god who was forbidden to have a shrine; the very thing that kept gods alive, in most cases. And never a god who only granted wishes for one person. Of course, what he had been able to hear and read was limited, but it obviously wasn’t common place, that was for sure.

“I decided this on my own.” He pushed past her, continuing to walk, though he stumbled over the roots of a tree after making only a few steps. Catching himself, he kept walking and let out a small sigh of relief in that he didn’t hear Hiiro moving behind him.

“You’re being stupid, Yaboku.” He finally heard her call out, “And I’m going to tell Father.”

“Go ahead. Honestly, he’ll probably be happier without me around.” He answered with a small laugh, though a bit of annoyance as well as disappoint came through in his tone.

She didn’t answer him, but he heard her move swiftly back in the direction of their home.

He was fairly confident in that his father wouldn’t come looking for him, but he was still on edge as he continued to trudge through the forest with only the small amount of moonlight to guide him. Even a few days after and even a few weeks after he’d made the decision to leave, he couldn’t help but peek his eyes open at any small sound any time he tried to sleep.

He never stayed anywhere for long, and he often switched between whether or not he was dismayed or grateful for the fact that most people didn’t notice him. He knew it went against Sakura’s wishes, but he found himself back to taking whatever he needed from merchants. After all, how could a god without a shrine receive any food offerings? And it wasn’t like he had any money, either.

Not to mention the fact he couldn’t even grant wishes yet because he couldn’t even find a spirit to name as a shinki. Since Hiiro was presented to him by his father and he ran into Sakura completely by accident, he never really thought much about the difficulties involved.

It was honestly making him nervous.  Aside from the fact there were ayakashi literally everywhere, gods needed wishes to even stay alive. But what if he couldn’t find a shinki before…?

He shook his head.

There had to be someone. Anyone.

Another whole week passed by and just as he was beginning to consider if he should go back to his Father and Hiiro, the next day he spotted a spirit hovering near a small pond just outside of the town he had spent the last few days in.

Excitedly, he raised his hand and started to spout the words automatically, “Thou with nowhere to go and nowhere to return… I shall grant you a place to belong.” He hesitated, closing his eyes and taking a slow breath before continuing.

“My name is Yato.”

[nuttybearluminary]

@burningitout @consequencesofargentdawn Let's fact check real quick lil' homie and take an educational approach considering it's not letting me reply in message. A. You haven't "Known Felen since the age of 12" otherwise I'd of known who you where, And I'm 100% certain the majority of the players i knew from early RP days are no longer playing the game including the cursed Segtillis, Millíe, Renok, Constable Dan etc and a few others, so let's not lie now to defend our guild master I'm not ignoring you i barely use Tumblr. B. If you had known Felen "since the age of 12 in wow" you'd be aware of the guilds he sets up and the consequences of his own actions which is the purpose of the post, his guilds where pre-dominantly set up on an narcistic level to better his own ego, it has and will always be "Felentrick and Co as opposed to an actual RP based guild, not to go rough here, but the guy can't be something in real life, so opts to be somebody in a fictional fantasy game by roleplaying himself in his dream world/reality, i know Felentrick very well and have always been in the background and have been since the Spire based guild in Silvermoon with a lady who's name i can't recollect and since the days of Sha'tar, i was introduced to him through Renok. C. I don't think pressuring female guild players into sending explicit images of themselves (More predominantly The Ashen Order and Val if you recall her? from Frozen Paw? Might have been a different G.) only to intentionally share them explicit images in a group chat with his Officers "Archér" and a Few others to name Constitutes as just "Drama." I don't think you're grasping the extent of the damage that this guys done, It was to the extent the Discord Moderation team who barely take action had got involved and temporarily suspended the accounts of those that where involved, things may have changed since then but the fact remains, If you knew him so well you'd know all about the many of female guild players that he cohersed and done the exact above to who are probably still facing the aftermath and having their own difficulties with mental health. D. Let's not forget the countless lives he destroyed for the sake of a quick buzz on the old hormones. Valadrin who he gaslighted and made her out to be crazy when defending herself against his actions, Ludville? (Can't remember the sweedish womans name) who was going through a divorce, Felentrick had convinced her to go through with it, knowing she was in a mentally vulnerable head space and continued to exploit the fact in a bid to convince her tomove accross the country for him, but Felentrick being the downbad thirst trap that he is, only wanted nudes. I can go on and on. (Yes i know all.) To put it lightly, he's not the Knight In Shining Armour you think him to be, I'd put him up there with Coalburnt with the amount of damage he's done to targetted players. And Finally let's wrap this up with a giant point which will greatly interest @consequencesofargentdawn E. Fun fact, Felentrick was initially rejected from the PCU because Officers where aware of all the above, he made a cover toon and tried to disguise himself in Highblood Myrmidons as no other guild would touch him before he was outed and booted, When an organised collective that are pre-dominantly known for bullying and all sorts of questionable behaviour don't want somebody, you know it's serious. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Douglas Murray and Peter Boghossian - Why are so many people fooled by Woke ideology?

Peter Boghossian: Why do you think people are so hoodwinked by this?

Douglas Murray: Because it's an answer to a number of very big questions. In the gap left by religion, it's an answer to the question of what should we be doing with our lives on Earth? That's a good question to address. And if you say, or anyone says, I have the answer, I know what you should be doing. I know what you should be doing...

Boghossian: Fighting for social justice.

Murray: You should be fighting for social justice. You-- it's a reason to get up in the morning, it's a reason to go out campaigning in the afternoon, and it's a reason to fight over the dinner table and tell your family that they're bigots.

This is purpose of a kind. And-- one other thing which is of course it says, i mean this is the real attraction, it says in a quasi-religious manner - in fact it's better than religion isn't it. Because a religion says, if you sort these things out, then in a life to come you will find salvation. And the social justice activists and the intersectionists and much more say, if you do all of these things, we can get justice here on Earth. And who wouldn't want that? If it was able to be achieved and if it was offered to you.

I mean, the appeal of it is extraordinary because, here is-- I mean, the world is wildly unequal, may well always be, I think probably always will be unequal in lots of ways. It's unfair in a huge variety of ways. Our own lives all bear out that experience, we know it collectively as well as individually. And these are all things we rail against or find peace against in our lives as the case is.

But if somebody comes along and says, no, we could solve all unfairness, inequality, inequity, you've just got to join us. Ordinarily that's said by a cult.

Boghossian: It sounds very Baptist to me.

Murray: It's highly Baptist. It has so many resonances from the religious tradition. Which is why I say I think it's trodden into that gap.

Boghossian: So, one of the reasons I think people are so hoodwinked, I think they're hoodwinked by language. I think they're hoodwinked by these words. "Equity" sounds really good. "Inclusion" sounds really good. "Diversity" sounds really good. "Safe space" sounds really good. All of these words sound good, and most people, they don't really know what they mean. It sounds good and it makes them feel good. I mean, just think, "anti-racism."

Murray: Yeah, who's not on board with that?

Boghossian: If you don't know the moral underpinnings of that, or Black Lives Matter. Well, of course black lives matter.

Murray: Yeah, a movement with literally no open opposition.

Boghossian: And they got-- they hoodwink you through those words and people say, I think it was Linda Sarsour who put out a tweet: Antifa. Anti-fascist. That's all you need, what more is it than that?

It is the power of language. There must be something in the brain's architecture or some evolutionary quirk or something that makes us susceptible to these.

Murray: Well, in-group out-group is is the obvious one, is that it's-- once this stuff becomes the dominant theme of the time, once people agree on the reprehensible nature of racism, homophobia, bigotry, misogyny, once they agree on that then of course they want to be on the side of the people opposed to all of that.

The problem is and you jump onto the side of all the people who are opposed to all that and you discover they can do things as wicked as anyone else.

But one other interesting thing about that is that, you mentioned language and of course i've always thought that one of the great advantages that any profession of faith or professed ideology has, strangely enough, is if it looks more complex than it is, I think a lot of people have been intellectually intimidated by the Studies movements, by the grievance industry, by the intersectionalists.

They feel intellectually intimidated by it because the language these people write in is far more complex than the really rather simple ideas they actually espouse. There's never a word they use they don't add syllables to unnecessarily. You know. A problem is never a problem, it is a problematization. You never have a narrative, you always have a meta narrative. And this is the case in every single term. Everything is made to sound more complex than it is. Which, by the way, as a writer, annoys me because i believe the task of writing is to try to take the most complex ideas and make them simpler. Or at least, simpler to understand than they might otherwise be.

And here are a whole set of academics in particular, who take really rather straightforward and simple assertions, which we could all understand, and they make them impossible to understand. They use such deliberately difficult language, and I think a lot of people before that, you know, people whose children return from college and spout this stuff, a lot of people particularly parents, become intellectually intimidated by it.

I think that it's the same thing with all of the implicit bias stuff and all that. You know, your boss tells you to do something that you feel isn't right, but they've got a whole language to explain it and you don't really understand it and you go along with it because you think you must be dumb. And you're not dumb. You're the cleverer person in the room if you've seen through that. But there's not much to help you, very few people are going to reach out. And there's a terrible opportunity cost if you're accused of all sorts of terrible things for even questioning it.

==

These are all literally cult tactics, by the way.

[justanechoflower]

(Also the DDLC bit is supposed to have happened before Flowey turned back into a flower. Technically, it’s a flashback. We’re filling in the gaps of his trip to that world, before he became a flower. If Flowey heals now, it wouldn’t affect his trip to the DDLC that was supposed to have finished before then. In main blog, the trip already ended, and Flowey’s back. We just don’t know what happened yet. The fact that all of the DDLC blog is supposed to be taking place in the past does carry some implications for asks made there if somebody references something that isn’t supposed to have happened yet, but since those are gone for the time being, and we don’t know if they’re even coming back once Flowey’s club meeting ends and we move onto a void talk, I won’t get into that right now. Besides, that might turn into a rabbit hole of its own.)

(Well, if the events of the side blog even canonically happened at all in this blog. This is why I’ve avoided trying to mention events from after he returned in my submissions to the side blog, and also partially why we don’t know if it’ll be canon at all, and it’s the reason why I’m setting Monika aside here for the time being, to avoid making statements on what happened in that trip, when we still don’t know what happened. If we did make statements on what happened, that’d force the side blog to go in a certain direction if we want it to even have a chance of being an accurate description of what happened.)

(When Human Flowey came back, I figured some might suspect they were from the DDLC trip, so… I made my response submission about it to try and address why it’s silly to suggest that, while addressing that yes, people would probably say it from his trip there… even if it wasn’t.)

(Yep, that submission actually came from me, the Monikanon! To sort of nip that in the bud before it started being suggested, since it’s pretty likely the fashion show wasn’t meant to take place in the Literature Club. And now Frisk being responsible for the fashion show all but confirms it wasn’t in the Literature Club, because Frisk didn’t enter the Literature Club when the portal was open! So seriously, the fashion show didn’t happen in the Literature Club. At least… I don’t think. If Nat seriously intended it to be in the Literature Club, I could try to arrange my future submissions there to lead into that, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t Nat’s intent, and I know it wasn’t my intent. I made that response specifically so that if the side blog doesn’t address it at all, there’s no reason to say there’s a plot hole... because there was no good reason to think it happened at the Literature Club in the first place.)

(Flowey was already human outside of the Literature Club once, he can easily be a human again for a few days in the Underground for some mysterious reason… maybe the same magic that turned him human early the first time! And roughly-humanoid size monsters exist, so malls in the Underground can easily have fitting clothes for Flowey. And let’s not forget about Flowey’s trip to McDonalds, looks like he can visit the human world as he pleases anyway, so it wouldn’t matter even IF no such malls existed in the Underground. The only thing actually suggesting a DDLC origin is the name “Buttercup”, but that easily could’ve been adapted as a genuine nickname for his human form, as opposed to just a disguise to keep the Literature Club from being weirded out. So I’m pretty sure this really wasn’t in the world of DDLC! Not that this would stop a few misinformed monsters from assuming it was anyway, hence the “rumors” I alluded to!)

(If you’re surprised to see me back in the main blog, well… I only said I was setting Monika aside for the time being, that doesn’t imply I’d disappear too!)

(That’s also why in that response, I specifically addressed @justanechoflower-ddlc as footage that, while not proven fake yet, still hasn’t been verified. If, after its story on the trip ends, Nat determines that it works, and should be added, then it gets verified. If Nat determines that the trip shouldn’t have gone like that, the “footage” gets shown to be fake, and we work out some of the important details of what actually happened. So the side blog exists now, but… does it show what really happened? …Nobody knows.)

(And… well, that was a big side tangent. Back to the point. Current events in the main blog, starting from Flowey turning from human back into flower, wouldn’t affect the side blog anyway. And that includes Flowey healing. Since he hasn’t healed in this blog yet, he wouldn’t have healed for the entire duration of the DDLC blog anyway. That, or changes to him inflicted in the DDLC world just didn’t/won’t carry over when he came/will come back the Undertale world. The solution I gave to prevent abuse of the backup file also helps here, too, Monika can’t read Flowey’s character file due to it not being in Ren’Py and also showing as a random other file type to the OS, so Monika can’t properly edit it to heal any damages to Flowey, so he’d still have it after the trip is over, which is why he has it now.)

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

(Yeah I guessed it was you who wrote that submission! You have a specific style of typing. So do I, and everyone else! And most other people use the ask button instead of submission. And you’re the only one who puts so much effort and writing into each ask it’s amazing how do you do it

(Anyway yeah that makes sense! Since the present on this blog is the future on the other blog, Flowey still would be healing anyway while in the ddlc world since he was only able to take the eyepatch and bandage off sometime after he came back.)

[fangsandfeels]

I used to think that he was insistent with romanced Tav because he had more emotional leverage to use. There aren't many arguments to appeal to Tav, who is just a friend. "Hey, do you want a real vampire lord as your BFF?" is clearly not compelling enough.

But after a while, I realized that if Astarion is dead set on something, he won't have any trouble with not shutting up it, neither with the friend!Tav, nor with the lover!Tav. He would come up with all sorts of arguments and reasons why he should do the thing and why Tav should help him do the thing - if he really wants the thing, that is.

So, maybe on friendship, he is more aware of the potential downsides of the ritual, paying more attention to such words as "diabolical' and "profane" as well as the fact that the concept of the ritual made some devils in Hells say "Dude, that's vile" - and more focused on the fact that he wants to kill Cazador, first and foremost. Power is a nice bonus, but it may be as double-sided as the Astral Tadpole, so if Tav (whose judgment he trusts) says it might be a bad idea, it probably is.

He knows that he wants Cazador dead. He isn't so sure what to do about the ritual and isn't opposed to an unbiased perspective. But of course, if Tav says, "Sure thing, we're a team, let's grab that power!", Astarion instantly feels like Machiavelli and his survival mechanisms start spinning, fueled with extra enablement.

Things get a lot more complicated in the romance route.

First of all, yes, of course, he reverts to his manipulative mechanisms. Even if he wasn't his intention. Even if he promised himself not to use his body or Tav's feelings because Tav deserves better. Having a partner who cares for him and is invested in his safety is a hook he can use, and he uses it - while rationalizing it to himself.

But there is more to it. I also think, this is the point where he is still struggling to understand that their relationship isn't transactional, and he doesn't have to "give" Tav anything to ensure they stay with him.

Being with Tav made him more hopeful for the future and also made him dread confronting Cazador. Because even though he hated Cazador and dreamt of killing him with his own hands, Cazador kept making him feel weak. Inadequate. Not enough. So, not only he wanted to kill him, he also felt like he had to do with a bang, to return everything the bastard would throw on him tenfold.

Plus, Tav was bound to learn the ugliest and most degrading truth about him, they were going to see it with their own eyes. They were going to see the "guest rooms", to learn about the kennels, everything. Such was the price for finally meeting and ending Cazador. And what did Astarion have to compensate for that truth? To make it worth their while? He can't even give them physical pleasure -- and while Tav made it clear that they are happy to be with Astarion without sex, he still has trouble grasping w h y. Why would Tav want him with all his burdens to carry?

(Of course, we're talking about the Tav Astarion wants to keep - he isn't blindly in love; he would instantly and rightfully end the relationship as soon as he realizes he isn't treated as a person or an equal partner, the man knows his priorities, and I applaud him.

But he is still figuring out what "something real" means and how to make it happen - and old habits die hard.)

Now, it's a deep headcanon territory, but I suspect that Astarion used to see relationships as transactional, even when he was a magistrate. Everything about making it big in Baldur's Gate was about tit for tat (no, I won't stop dabbing on the city's shitty justice system, my Tav possessed me).

You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. Arranged marriages. "Friendly" favors. Lucrative offers. Cases or crimes weren't resolved because somebody had a conscience, and alliances weren't built on fond memories and happy moments spent together. You want something from someone? You better give them something for their trouble.

So, he uses the "greater purpose", the "grand prize" to rationalize to himself and Tav that it all will be worth it, in the end. His fear and proximity to Cazador were already twisting his feelings, the idea of having a partner and being loved were additional factors pushing him back to his manipulative patterns.

I am UNWELL

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E129 (March 16, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Matt Mercer and Taliesin Jaffe!

Matt, on DMing Luc’s Revivify: “That was weird. It’s one thing when it happens because of player action and circumstances and the choices they make. When it’s entirely on me, unintentional, and just realizing different chess pieces you’ve set up, that’s rough.” It was especially rough since this was a child NPC related to a PC. “I was hoping somebody had a spell slot left.” He kept in mind that there are two clerics in the room and that they could resurrect the next day even if the Revivify went poorly. “A good chance, since it’s his first time. Okay, okay, okay, okay, I think we’ll be okay, we’ll see how this goes. It was really stressful in the moment! I did not set out to have that happen, but when I realized what was going to happen, I tried to see it through.” He wouldn’t have prevented a chance to bring him back. “There may have been an offshoot short-run series of games to find a way to bring him back. I would have found some way to correct the circumstance so the players could feel good about moving forward with the story and there was no undue punishment beyond their control.”

Taliesin on Cad’s response: “This is a big thing if you’re a cleric. It was very much coming in like an EMT. Everything should be fine... hopefully. Just focused in and got it done. The minute things started to go south it was like, okay, that’s the next problem.”

On Yeza’s feelings: “It is a very complicated situation. I think he, much like how Veth is trying to figure out what it is that she wants, I think he’s trying to help her find that while also figuring it out for himself. I think Yeza’s also noticing that because Veth’s the more active of the two of them she also takes the weight of the responsibility and the blame for things when they go wrong, unnecessarily. Especially when he himself acknowledges that he’s partially at fault for even dragging everyone in with the Conclave. As much as he’s appreciative for them coming back for him, there’s a lot of back and forth. He’s filled with a lot of regret, too, but he’s very much trying to convince Veth that it’s a burden that she doesn’t have to keep to herself, that they can share it and work through it together.” Matt mentions that, as an actor, he really loves exploring interactions between characters first and foremost. “Especially when you don’t know where it’s going to go.” He also praises Sam as a scene partner - “I really cherish that.”

How does Caduceus feel about Revivify and Speak with Dead? “Speak with Dead is an interesting middle ground, because he knows that it’s not actually speaking with the dead. It’s really just-- it’s almost medical, really. This is just reactivating a brain at a certain point. It’s practically just a muscle twitch at this point. That doesn’t really prod him in that direction. Revivify is interesting, because it had never really come up. At first I thought of it as bending the rules, but it’s not bending the rules. You knock over a plant, you replant it, you don’t stare at it and go ‘Well, that’s over.’ This is just doing the work. No, we can bring this thing back to health. This is all part of the circle of life, that sometimes we can save something. Especially given the stress that he’s put himself through over the past year of being with these people. He’s started to think of himself a bit as a battlefield medic, and triage is just part of the deal, and it’s completely acceptable.”

Did Trent really just want to talk? “Yeah, that circumstance, as it came together, Trent would never have arrived if there wasn’t an indication that there was some kind of infiltration or attack. Even beyond that, it was Jester breaking the concentration on her charm on that one guard when she created her duplicate.” The guards’ job is to inform a member of the Cerberus Assembly, and Trent lived the closest. “He didn’t know who it was, didn’t have any expectation necessarily. The minute he saw the illusion, he knew a powerful magic user was involved.” Seeing Caleb was an unexpected surprise. “I don’t think he wanted to throw down necessarily. He was more interested in figuring out exactly what the nature of this was.” Matt had multiple battlemaps that didn’t get used. “They managed to cleverly out-maneuver him in his surprise of seeing them.” The Nein rocketed up his priority list after that very quickly. Taliesin: “We’re so fucked.”

On Cad being “Uncle Caduceus” to Luc: “It’s the thing he misses most about home, is being a juvenile shit. It’s nice to be able to express that part of him again, as opposed to the serious, life-threatening, constant intensity. I’m very at home just being a little difficult.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Beau! (_rumor_king, photography by kourtyardproductions on Instagram)

On Marion: “Like a lot of people in this whole narrative from the beginning, getting swept up in things larger than her and trying to adapt. This is a circumstance she’s avoided for a long time. She’s having a rough time in some ways, but simultaneously, she’s enduring. Like a mother would. She’s adapting, she’s making it work. Without much of a choice, you just kind of do the best you can and lean on the people around you to help you where they can. Luckily she has a daughter there. She’s probably surprising herself at how well she’s doing given the circumstances.” Matt talks about how weird it is to feel proud of character he’s created. “Of the many things Marion is incredible at, she’s a studier of the human condition. She’s seen and heard the stories of so many. That gives her a very special perspective. She can see elements of that fractured individual within Caleb, and knowing the good that he’s brought to his friends, and knowing he’s possibly saved her life from bad circumstances, she couldn’t not speak up. She very easily falls into that role of maternal comforter, because it’s one of the many things she’s really good at, she enjoys it, and she can see well when people need it.” He’s been enjoying having Marion along for this (despite the difficult circumstances) because he was always a little sad that they only got to see her for short periods of time.

On the Blooming Grove’s safety: “He’s afraid that it’s a premonition. He’s not pinned it down, but he’s happy to let his imagination wander. He at the very least feels like there’s a reason he’s having these thoughts, and that there’s a reason to go there. He’s a big believer that these things don’t just happen. He’s more likely to think that there’s a good reason to go versus a danger to go. He’s had a couple of ominous warnings lately, and he’s not used to them and not a fan. He’s more likely to read something like that as, there is something there waiting for you that you have to discover. There is something that is going to be helpful to you, even if it hurts.”

On Astrid: “While maybe not as readable in overall personality as Trent is, I still want to be careful to not discuss things that are still being discussed within the game and tossed around as possibilities. Astrid is another complicated character, as anyone would be who’s been through the life she has. I can’t say too much. I can say she’s definitely legitimately happy to see Bren/Caleb after all this time.” His reemergence definitely caught her off guard. “We’ll have to see where it goes from there.”

On Cad’s successful Divine Intervention: “He’s definitely hit the ‘on a mission from god�� stage. He’s been that way for the entire campaign of, this, this is what I’ve been waiting for. Even when it sucks a lot, it’s been nice that those things have popped up to remind him, no, no, you’re doing it right, everything’s good. Probably not going to survive the next week, but you’re doing good! Not quite 1 in a 100 chance, but I forget so often to make that roll, and it’s such a great roleplaying roll. I don’t know how at level 20 you could deal with the fact that you can do that every day.” 

On Zeenoth getting his comeuppance: the kidnapping was a concept Marisha brought up for Beau’s backstory, and Matt went with it even though it was opposed to the Cobalt Soul’s philosophy because he knew rooting it out would make for an interesting story. “I felt it was an important beat to bring to her, because it was something that she was wronged by. And to show that there are still some good people out there who are trying to make things right.” After the tentative peace, dealing with this became Dairon’s next focus. “I was glad we finally got to it. So many people don’t have the opportunity in their lives to get that sort of justice and vindication, so if I can bring elements of that justice into our world, even for our own hope, I’m going to do that. Especially for my wife’s character, especially for a character that deserves that.” Taliesin points out that if it had come too early, Beau wouldn’t have believed it.

Cad’s thoughts on the Tomb Taker betrayal? “He knew it was gonna come at some point. There was no way that was gonna last. He was hoping it was gonna last a little longer. He was really hoping they had a vested interest in getting them all the way to the end. Nope, this is apparently as far as we go, and he was not prepared for that.” He was expecting the potential for de-escalation. “Caduceus is the only character in there that doesn’t have a history with Lucien. I think he sees him a little more clearly than everybody else does. They’re all looking for this person that Clay, at least, is of the opinion that he’s just not there. This is a very manipulative, very dangerous infernal human. Just smarter than all of them. Really aware that there is no calculating what the hell is going to happen. Conversation is the only way you can deal with someone like that.”

Fan Art of the Week: An amazing Caleb closeup! (rynn_birb on Twitter)

Taliesin on Lucien: “I’m excited he’s the one that’s going to kill us all. Poetic that this is how the game ends.” Matt was delighted when Taliesin handed him carte blanche to do what he wanted with Molly’s past. “I was like ‘shit... oh, wait!’ The character of Lucien was always intended to be an antagonist so that it would have been Molly being chased by the person who wanted their body back. But then it happened that he got his body back.” Taliesin: “He’s so much worse than I ever hoped.”

Matt, on the Holy Avenger: “I hadn’t thought to initially even give that sword.” The good roll was the only reason Kima handed that over. “Well, sure, you get the sword. It was very reactionary, it wasn’t my intent originally. I was like, well, I mean, there’s two avenues she can take with this.” Multiclass into Paladin, or lean into the fact that her subclass is essentially a barbarian paladin. “This really works out in a uniquely beautiful way. Let me see if I can lay out a path for her to earn it.”

On Cad’s attempt at lying blowing up in his face: “He was like that kid that had a really bad day in high school and was like, you know what? I’m going to let loose. This is it. I’m gonna dye a streak in my hair. And then tries to give himself a haircut and ends up with half bangs. Well, okay, obviously I’m not that person. I was feeling a little distraught and I didn’t handle it well. Maybe I’m going dark... no, I’m not going dark. Nope.” Matt mentions how much he relates to Caduceus.

Matt, on the Eyes: “What can I tell you? I’m enjoying the hell out of it. The moment they began to really push to read that book, I was like, okay, this is on you. I’m excited for the point in the narrative where the march continues back to Eiselcross. I am almost impatient - not really - because we’re on the cusp of getting to more of the meat. There’s so much to learn, so much to see, so much to explore. I love instilling my players with absolute terror.”

Thoughts on Jester’s Tarot reading? Taliesin cackles. “Molly made the cards, so. Did it to himself, he did, he did.” Matt: “Once again, another example of things working out unexpectedly and too perfectly for an improvised moment. Fuck.” Taliesin: “Bless the wisdom of chaos.” Matt: “I love that even at this point in the campaign, Molly continues to fuck with people. I’m just so proud. That deeply shook Lucien, for reasons.” Taliesin: “It’s the everlasting gobstopper smoke bomb.”

[mypoisonedvine]

Second Chance | dark!Scott Lang x reader

summary: every perfect heist has five stages: identify the score, find your ‘in,’ enter unnoticed, get the score, and leave before anyone knows you were there. scott is good at heists, but not so good at relationships, family, or co-parenting with his ex. but he’s going to do it right this time, by starting a new family with you. he’s going to make sure you stay, by never letting you leave at all.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: noncon, stalking/yandere, breeding kink, overstimulation, kidnapping, innocence/corruption kink?, age gap, pregnancy, lil mention of lactation kink

note: this is set sometime around the plot of ant-man so cassie is still little, no snap/blip, none of that stuff!

Stage 1: Identify the score

Scott loved his daughter, but he hated having to share her with his ex-wife and her new husband.  

The stepdad wasn't a bad guy… annoying, but not dangerous or anything, so Scott figured he should count his blessings.  And Cassie was always a blessing.

But still, this was not the life he has envisioned for himself.  He had always wanted to have a family, and in his mind that had meant actually being with them.  Christmas around the fireplace, ice cream in the park, a dog named Rover— the whole shebang.  Instead he had postcards from vacations he wasn’t invited to, visits supervised by social workers, and far too many missed recitals and games and plays.  He couldn’t make up for time lost, he couldn’t undo everything that had ruined his shot at the picture-perfect family… but he could try again.

That’s where you came in.

Hank had introduced Scott to his new assistant one morning with almost no warning, and he’d been so flustered he almost forgot to shake your hand and greet you.  You had on this little blouse with ruffles that was just too precious, and sparkly gold earrings outshined only by your eyes.  He could imagine you by his side so easily, with gold on your finger to match, playing the part of his beautiful, obedient wife.

You were the perfect mark.  Young: therefore innocent, too trusting, and hopefully plenty fertile.  The fact that you were sweet and smart and adorable was just a bonus.  

It seemed like you had taken a liking to him too, although there was more of a mentor/mentee dynamic than he had originally intended; as if you looked up to him, as opposed to acknowledging the fact that he was single and attractive like you were supposed to.  Thankfully, he had a plan and he knew it was just a matter of time before he was going to get his second chance with you.

Stage 2: Find your ‘in.’

“Is this your card?” he asked, smiling when you nodded excitedly.

"Hey, you're pretty good!" you giggled as he slipped the playing card back into the deck.  "How long have you been doing magic?"

"Uh, not long," he admitted, "I just learned this stuff to impress my daughter."

Your face shifted and he knew he had you.  "Oh my god, that's so sweet!" you beamed.  You were looking at him like you thought he was the most adorable guy in the world, and he tried not to smile too hard because he finally had his in.  "You sound like an incredible dad."

"Well, I try…” he sighed, pulling for your sympathy, “it's tough only having her on weekends and stuff."

“Oh, I can’t even imagine,” you nodded with understanding.  You won’t have to, Scott replied internally.

“Eh, I survive,” he shrugged.  “When you love somebody that much… you take what you can get.”

He glanced away before looking back at you, admiring the puppy-dog eyes you were giving him.  

“You’ll understand someday— assuming you, you know, want kids and all that,” he stammered, testing the waters but breathing a sigh of relief when you grinned.

“Oh, definitely.  I mean, not right now, but definitely someday,” you agreed.  He laughed a little, amused by the way you foolishly believed you would get to decide you would have kids.  He probably would’ve still gone through with his plan even if you’d said you didn’t want any, but it was easier this way and he wanted to make sure his new family had a loving mother to care for them.

And loving was the only way to describe the expression on your face in that moment, presumably as you imagined your picturesque future.  He could only dream that he was somewhere in your fantasy, but it didn’t really matter since he was about to insert himself into your reality regardless.

You waved goodbye when he left the lab that night, not knowing that he was just going to wait in his car for you to leave so he could follow you home.  

Stage 3: Enter unnoticed.

Even though the stake out, like any, should’ve been horrifically boring, Scott found himself excited and oddly… peppy.  It must have been the knowledge that tonight he was going to start the rest of his life, with somebody who wouldn’t— or rather, couldn’t— leave and take his child away.  

At half-past one, when he was confident you were already completely asleep, he made his move.  Breaking into your apartment was disturbingly simple, making him even more glad that he was getting you out of this place: a woman living alone should really have better security.  The next issue was making sure you wouldn’t wake up when he took you.  Thankfully, he had science on his side in the form of a gas he’d stolen from Hank’s lab; it wasn’t dangerous, just something to keep you asleep through being taken to your new home.  All he had to do was pull the pin and roll the canister under your bedroom door, then give it time to clear so he could whisk you away.

There was still a little puff of smoke when he opened your bedroom door, but it didn't affect him— what did have an effect was the sight of you out cold on your bed.  You looked peaceful, innocent… like his perfect little wife, ready for the taking.

He let himself ogle only for a moment at your body exposed by the thin pajamas, running his fingers over your sleeping silhouette.  

You stirred slightly under his touch making him grin.  So sensitive already…

The weight of you in his arms was every he'd dreamed it would be and more.  So much waiting for his new lease on life, for his chance to do things right, and now all that he had to do was carry you home.

Stage 4: Get the score.

He waited for you to wake up, watching from the shadows as you slowly came to and tugged at your restraints.  To be clear, he didn’t enjoy your distress, but he knew it was necessary.  Plus, maybe he could comfort you and that idea excited him more than anything.

“Somebody help me!” you yelped, struggling uselessly against the ropes that secured each of your limbs to the bedposts.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Scott finally interjected as he stepped out into the light, your head whipping around to look at him.  You looked relieved, for a moment.

“Scott,” you mumbled, “what are you doing here?  What… what happened?”

“Nothing happened, you’re going to be just fine,” he explained calmly, taking a seat beside you on the bed.  Your brow furrowed and your eyes darted around.

“Where am I?’

“You’re finally home.”

It was clear that you didn't understand quite yet, though the way your eyes darted around and your brow furrowed made it obvious you were starting to get the gist.  "Scott, I… I don't…"

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, reaching up to cradle your face in his hand.  It broke his heart slightly when you tried to turn your head away from his touch, but he was sympathetic to your reticence; it would be trained out of you soon, anyways.  “Just relax, okay?  Everything’s gonna be fine— not just fine: great.”

You shivered slightly and he was about to ask if you were cold, if he could get you a blanket or turn up the heating, but you spoke first.  “What are you gonna do to me?” you asked, hesitant yet stern.

“Well, that depends on how well you behave,” he explained calmly.  

“Will you let me go?”  Your voice was softer, weaker, and it made his chest tighten; he loved you so much he didn’t know what to do with himself sometimes.

You let out a little sob when he shook his head in reply.  “No, baby, I can’t.  You don’t understand… you don’t know what it’s like, having a family and being away from them all the time.  It’s torture; that’s why you’re here.  This time you're not gonna leave me… never gonna let you out of my sights, sweetheart: you or the baby."  

Your whole body tensed up as your eyes went wide, making him chuckle a little.  

"Don't be so scared, you're gonna love it.  I just know you're going to be an amazing mom…"

You tried to kick him away as he ran his hand up your leg, and even though it didn't work at all it still hurt his feelings.  "Baby," he frowned, tutting disapprovingly, "don't be rude… just relax and it'll feel good."

His hand travelled higher, reaching up between your thighs where his finger gently brushed over your swollen bud through your pajama shorts.  He smirked at the way it was clearly already aroused.  

"See?  You're gonna like it, you already want it," he purred.  

His purr became a growl when he slipped two fingers into your panties and found your folds already slick and warm.  He had meant to tease you a bit more but now he couldn’t stop himself from pushing his fingers into you and groaning at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around them.  It was obvious that you were enjoying it just by the way your channel tightened and fluttered encouragingly, even if your face was twisted in conflict.

“It’s okay if it feels good,” he reminded you, rubbing his thumb over your clit and grinning when your back arched.  “It’s okay to come.”

You shook your head, mumbling “no,” but it seemed more like you were talking to yourself than to him.  It was sort of inspiring how much you were trying to hold yourself back even when he could feel your pleasure building with every curl of his fingers.  The way you bit down on your lip to hide your moans was admirable but ultimately fruitless, your body jolting and shaking under him.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re so close, just come for me,” he cooed, knowing that you’d be so much more pliant once your first orgasm was out of the way.  

He could see how badly you wanted, and needed, to obey him, but you were still foolishly resisting and trying to squirm away.  In a moment of frustration, he used his free hand to push down on you just below your belly button: it served both to pin you to the bed and to push your spongy g-spot right into the tips of his fingers, making you choke and gurgle as your eyes shot open.

“There it is,” he grinned, “see how good I can make you feel?  Go ahead, sweetheart, make a mess on my fingers…”

It wasn’t much longer until a new wave of wetness seeped from your opening, down around his hand and onto the sheets below, making him laugh a little purely out of pride.

“Fuck, just like that— keep going,” he demanded with a little growl, loving the way you writhed and gasped all for him.  To see you like this was reward enough, but to know that nobody else would ever see you like this again, that you’d be his forever?  It was nearly overwhelming.

He didn’t stop until your whines were too pained to bear— there was a clear difference between overstimulated and genuinely suffering, and his interest laid solidly in the first.  Still, he loved the way you sighed with relief when he slowed down and pulled his fingers from you; already your body was limp and heavy, your eyes blinking slowly.

“Are you tired already?  Baby, we’re just getting started,” he chuckled, standing up to strip quickly.  He wasn’t sure if your shock was from seeing his body or knowing what he was going to do to you next, but it was likely some mixture of the two— definitely plenty of the first with the way your eyes scanned him while he took off his jeans.  He was pretty proud of himself for staying in shape, and every long night at the gym was justified when he saw you swallow nervously at the sight of him.  You had trouble hiding your arousal when your body was tied up and completely exposed to him, aside from the little pajama set that did nothing to hide your hardening nipples.

When he was naked, finally, he climbed onto the bed and slotted himself between your legs, ignoring the way you struggled beneath him to tear off your top.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered under his breath as your chest was finally freed, your tits jiggling a little whenever you tried to squirm away.  “So fucking perfect…”

He grabbed one and held it steady so he could lean down and capture the nipple between his lips, humming when you whined and bucked beneath him.

“These are gonna get bigger when I knock you up, you know,” he smiled happily, looking up at where you were staring back with wide, wild eyes.  “Gonna be full of milk for our little one.”

He moved to the other nipple slowly, circling it with his tongue before finally latching on and sucking it just hard enough to make you yelp slightly.

“Will you let me have a taste too, baby?” he teased, laughing at your expression that tried (and failed) to mask arousal with disgust.

Though he would have to wait to taste your milk, there was another part of you he could taste now— or as soon as he finished kissing his way down your stomach, and quickly ripping and disposing of your little shorts.  

The second he got you naked for him, the smell of your need hit the air and it drove him fucking wild.  Once again, his plans to tease you— kiss your thighs, leave little bite marks on your hips, give the gentlest licks to your swollen button— were lost to his desire, leaving him with no choice but to dive right in and devour you.

It was worth it to see you fall apart for him so quickly, your back arching dramatically as you grabbed the ropes that tied your hands just to have something to hold onto.  He could tell nobody had ever eaten your cunt this good before, because if they had you wouldn’t have gasped so loudly when he pushed his tongue into you.  The lewd slurping sounds that echoed around the basement reminded you both that every sound was trapped, just like you— it scared you more but it turned him on, his cock bobbing up against his abs in a silent beg for stimulation.

But it wasn’t quite time to fuck you.  Close, but not yet.  He needed to taste you at the peak of your pleasure first.

Two fingers pushed slowly into your pulsing channel definitely helped to speed things along: he could hear you getting louder, and feel you getting tighter.  He could even feel your clit throbbing against his tongue, and it only made him want to push you further to the edge.

"I know you're so close honey, just let go," he purred between laps at your swollen bud.  

Clearly you were still worn out from the last orgasm but it made it even easier to make you come this time, even when you were uselessly fighting it.  Your broken little moans made his heart twist, and his cock flex slightly although he was doing his best to ignore it.

You started to relax and go limp, so he pulled back and took a moment to appreciate how lovely you looked, exhausted and blissed-out just from his touch.

"Doing so good for me, sweetheart," he praised huskily.  "I think we've both waited long enough… I'm gonna put my cock in you now."

Your mumbles and heavy breaths almost sounded like you were considering begging him not to again, but apparently you were either too tired or too smart to keep that game up.  He grinned as he scooted forward a bit so he could rub his cock between your swollen, slick lips; the way his thick shaft spread your folds was intoxicating, and he couldn't wait to see how it looked when he pushed into your tight cunt.

He literally couldn't wait: he was already guiding the head to your opening and sliding home.

You whimpered weakly and his head fell back with a groan.  "God, baby, so fucking tight…"

Underneath where his hands rested on your legs, he could feel you struggling again.

"Shh, just take it honey, it's gonna be so good," he assured from between his teeth, jaw tight and heart racing.  As much as slowing down and giving you some time to adjust would be the gentlemanly thing to do, he couldn't find the patience now that he was inside you and it felt so perfect.

When he was finally all the way within you and his hips were flush against yours, you made a little noise like a moan and a sob while he leaned down to cage your body in with his, resting his arms beside your head.  

"See how perfect we are together?  Like we're made for each other," he cooed, pouting a little when a tear fell from your eye.  "Don't cry, baby," he soothed as he wiped it away with his thumb, "everything's finally right.  I'm gonna move now, okay?"

But he didn't wait for your permission before he pulled back and pushed in again, stroking your walls with patience and precision.

Each thrust pushed the head of his cock right into that spongy spot inside you, making you gasp and tug on your restraints a bit— and you looked so beautiful in the throes of pleasure like this, spread out beneath him and your body at his disposal.  But, disposal was the last of his plans for you: he wanted to savor you, make you feel as good as you made him feel (if that was even possible).

So, he did his best to target your most sensitive spots, grinning at your body's obvious reaction.  Occasionally he would rub your clit with his thumb or reach up to play with your tits, but overall he stuck to just appreciating the perfect friction of your channel on the ridges and veins of his cock.

It didn't take much more of that for you to arch your back again, the weak moans that spilled from your lips just as much a sign of your orgasm as the way your inner muscles flexed around him.

"Just like that," he praised under his breath, "fuck, come for me baby…"

Moving faster and with more ferocity, he was able to push you into another one quickly as he grinned down at you. 

"There you go, angel, just keep coming for me, I know you can give me one more—"

"N-no," you stammered, "can't…"

"Yes you can, honey, be my good little girl and come one more time for me," he encouraged, thrusting harder and faster as you whimpered and writhed.  The fluttering of your walls brought his own orgasm close but he staved it off as he fought to get one last glimpse of you at the height of your pleasure.  "There you go," he grinned when he felt your body tense up only to relax all at once, a beautiful broken whine echoing around the room.

The sensation of his balls tightening was always a sign that he was close, but it was much stronger now than normal and he knew he was going to come so hard.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned.  "Gonna fill you up so good that you have to get pregnant."

"Scott, please," you whimpered, "please just pull out."

"I can't, honey, I couldn't if I wanted to— you just feel too good," he explained, thrusting faster as he began to lose his rhythm.  "Fuck, just like that— oh god, baby, I'm coming, fuck!"

He groaned as finally he felt each pump of come paint the deepest parts of you, not stopping until he spilled every drop.

You tried to squirm but he held your hips tight, the little pulses of your walls milking his cock for all it was worth.  "Baby," he sighed as he started to catch his breath, "fuck, you're amazing."

Your sweet little body shivered beneath him, making him frown sympathetically and rub your arms.  

"Aw, honey, are you cold?" he soothed, hugging you tight and giving you a peck on the tip of your nose.  

"Why…" you mumbled, so quiet that he almost didn't hear it, as your eyes fluttered shut.

"It's okay, honey, I'm right here," he promised, "I know you're tired, you can go to sleep now."

Stage 5: Leave before anyone knows you were there.

This one didn’t exactly apply in this case, since nobody was leaving anywhere anytime soon; he was going to stay with you as long as he could, only leaving when work absolutely demanded it.  In fact, his first order of business was to go back to the lab and bring your letter of resignation with him.  With some bargaining he got you to sign it, and once it was done he could barely keep it together at work all day— he just couldn’t wait to get home and be with you again, knowing that the last of the loose ends were tied and nobody was going to come looking for you.

You adjusted to domestic life rather well, especially once you started showing and your maternal instincts started to overpower the independence you used to value.  

"Good morning, angel," he purred against your ear as you stirred in his arms, your movements rustling the sheets of your shared king bed.  He hummed as he ran his hands over your body, resting on your round, swollen belly where he suddenly felt his child kicking underneath.  "Did you feel that?" he gasped.

"Mm-hmm," you mumbled sleepily, cuddling up closer to him and resting your hands on top of his.  "That's our baby."

He kissed your cheek and smiled, trying to comprehend how he ever got so lucky.  After all, second chances are hard to come by.

[robininthelabyrinth]

I love your Nie brothers content, all of it, but there is so little written about the friendship between Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian! We know they were friends in Cloud Recesses, but it's never explored how these genius guys, even if one is focused on magical inovations and the other on strategy and politics, got on. Something which shows how well they got each other would be great

1

Wei Wuxian’s fist trembled. How dare he – worthless peacock – my shijie..!

But before he could throw a punch, he saw a swirl of white – Lan Wangji, sweeping forward with a face like a graveyard, and Nie Huaisang cringing in his shadow – and suddenly he realized that he didn’t need to punch Jin Zixuan.

Speaking of others behind their backs is forbidden.

Sneering without reason is forbidden.

Arrogance is forbidden.

Do not be haughty and complacent.

Do not praise yourself and slander others.

Do not make assumptions about others.

Do not insult people.

Do not take your words lightly.

Wei Wuxian grinned with teeth. “Hey, Lan Zhan!” he sang out, and Jin Zixuan blanched. “Perfect timing!”

Later, after he’d laughed himself sick at Jin Zixuan’s punishment – humiliatingly perfect – and making his appreciation very clear to Lan Wangji, he went to go find Nie Huaisang.

“When did you go get Lan Zhan?” he asked, honestly curious. He hadn’t known he was going to get into a fight until he was there and it was happening, but Nie Huaisang, of all people, had apparently figured out what was going to happen before it happened and took steps to fix it.

“The second they started talking about girls,” Nie Huaisang said promptly. “It’s fairly obvious that Jin Zixuan is resentful of his parents managing his life and he’s lashing out at everything, including specifically your shijie, so a nasty comment was inevitable.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, derailed from his original line of questioning. “He – what? Wait, that’s why he’s so rude about my shijie?”

“Of course,” Nie Huaisang said, blinking back at him. “What did you think? That he just didn’t like her? He’s barely even met her.”

Wei Wuxian hadn’t thought about that way, but it made a certain amount of sense. “When did you get so good at reading people?” he asked, bemused. “I didn’t…uh…”

“Think I have any skills?”

Wei Wuxian coughed.

“I don’t!” Nie Huaisang beamed, clearly very proud of it. “But I do have a lot of expensive hobbies, and that means I need pocket money.”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he understood the connection, and said as much.

Nie Huaisang laughed at him. “The Nie sect believes in self-sufficiency,” he explained. “My brother gives me a certain amount of money to spend, sure, but we’re not the Jin sect; I can’t just buy everything that I lay my eyes on and send the bill back home – my brother would break my legs! I’m expected to find a way to increase the money I get until it’s enough to cover both my needs and wants, necessities and luxuries both, and if I can’t, then I have to do without luxuries.”

Nie Huaisang has never, not once, in the entire few months Wei Wuxian spent in his company, done without luxuries.

“So,” Wei Wuxian said, feeling oddly unnerved and unsure why, “you learned how to read people because you want to act like…a merchant?”

Nie Huaisang lightly tapped his head with his fan, rolling his eyes at him. “Stop being such a landed gentry young master, Wei-xiong. There’s nothing wrong with trade! How much of your sect’s money comes from merchants interested in keeping their trade routes free of resentful energy?”

Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose a little. “That’s cheapening it a bit, don’t you think? As cultivators, it’s our duty to stand up as heroes, to defend the innocent and defeat evil, to purify –”

“Right, right. Remind me again how the Jiang sect pays for all that pretty purple?”

“Well…I mean…”

Technically, yes, there were all the dye sellers and the fabric merchants, but…

Nie Huaisang was laughing at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Wei-xiong,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You stick to doing your own thing. If you ever need to sell anything, come to me.”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian said, privately thinking to himself that he’d rather farm for crops than become a seller hawking his goods in the marketplace. “Hey, wait, what is it that you sell, anyway?”

Nie Huaisang sniggered and refused to tell him.

2

It was porn.

Also barbeque and liquor, although in that case Nie Huaisang mostly played the middleman between the vendors of Caiyi Town and the students stuck eating Lan vegetables.

Sometimes he could even be convinced to tug on his contacts for other things, too.

“You’re a true friend,” Wei Wuxian said, clutching the bottle of chili sauce to his chest. “A true and wonderful friend.”

“You still have to pay,” Nie Huaisang said, his eyes curving up behind his fan. “No discounts.”

“A ruthless, vicious, cut-throat friend…”

“I lend you the porn for free, don’t I?

“Wonderful! Wonderful friend!”

3

No matter what Jiang Cheng said, Wei Wuxian was trying to keep his head down during their time at the indoctrination camp. He was taking this whole thing very seriously: he wasn’t making a fuss (too much), he wasn’t being insulting (too much), he wasn’t even socializing (too much).

Lan Wangji didn’t count, anyway; after what had happened to him, he needed someone bothering him.

But Wei Wuxian was being good and keeping back from the rest!

Well, he was, except then he saw Nie Huaisang and just had to go over to say hello. It was only polite, and had nothing to do with the fact that during the months he spent at the Cloud Recesses, he’d learned that Nie Huaisang could sell anyone on anything.

“I don’t suppose you have contacts that will sell you barbeque here,” Wei Wuxian said as a greeting, because the food they’d received was frankly disgusting in a way that made him wistful for the Lan sect like it had been a gourmet restaurant.

“Well,” Nie Huaisang hedged, and Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t get too excited, it’s not barbeque…”

It was meat, though, chunks of that had probably been roasted as skewers at one point, and Wei Wuxian didn’t even care that it was cold as he scarfed it down, immediately feeling ten times better than he’d been before.

“Where?” he asked. “How?”

“There’ll be a surprise inspection tomorrow morning,” Nie Huaisang said instead. “Keep your head down, they’re looking to make an example out of somebody.”

“How do you know that?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “I brought art.”

“To the indoctrination camp?”

“Wen soldiers get lonely and bored too, Wei-xiong.”

“You’re trading for information using porn?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m trading porn for meat, and getting the information while we’re chatting. A large number of the Wen sect cultivators used to be their own sects, you know, before they were absorbed, and not all of them are happy about what’s going on here. You just have to figure out who the loyalists are, avoid them, and focus on the rest, and it’s easy.”

“I still can’t believe you brought porn to the Wen sect,” Wei Wuxian said, shaking his head. “What’ll you do if your brother finds out?”

“You’re joking, right? He helped me pack it.”

Wei Wuxian will never understand the Nie sect.

4

Wei Wuxian stared wordlessly at his bowl.

There was a single slice of radish in it.

“Is this a joke?” he asked Wen Qing, because it might be, and she glared at him, meaning that no, it was not. “Don’t we have anything else?”

“With what money, Wen-gongzi? Do you think it comes from thin air?”

“I had a friend once who could make it come out of thin air,” he grumbled, looking down at his bowl. He’d practiced inedia, he didn’t need it, except for the fact that he really, really did. Not having a golden core made things hard. “He could’ve sold fish to fishermen, except he mostly just sold porn.”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes at him. “Wonderful story, Wei-gongzi. Positively heartwarming. But unless your old erotic art dealer is going to come to Yiling to help us sell some radishes, I don’t care.”

Naturally, that was impossible. Wei Wuxian was a villain now, his name blackened, the whole cultivation world against him –

Actually, as far as he could tell, the Nie sect didn’t seem to give a damn about him one way or another. From all the stories Nie Huaisang had told about his brother and from everything he’d seen in the war, Nie Mingjue wasn’t the sort of person to let evil sit around on a mountain while he was busy with other things – if he objected, he’d be there the next day with his saber, ready to put him in his place.

He hadn’t, obviously.

His hatred of the Wen sect was pretty well-known, but he’d taken no action at all to invade Yiling and demand that Wei Wuxian hand them over, and Wei Wuxian was mostly sure that it wasn’t because he was scared of what Wei Wuxian could do with the Stygian Tiger Seal.

…it was probably just the hunger getting to him and making him think crazy things. Not caring enough to go against him was pretty far from supporting him, after all.

But, hey, he wouldn’t be risking anything if he just wrote a tiny little letter asking Nie Huaisang for some advice on selling things, right?

I never thought I’d see the day my Wei-xiong finally became a merchant, the return letter said. I’ll be there in three days. I expect to see liquor.

Wei Wuxian took Wen Ning down the mountain and stood on his shoulders in order to emancipate a jar from the local tavern, but by the time Nie Huaisang arrived, there was, in fact, liquor.

Even Wen Qing – who had opposed the entire outing once she had heard about it upon their return – suddenly thought it was a perfectly reasonable sort of theft when Nie Huaisang offered to trade a giant crate full of meat for it.

“We had some leftovers from a boar hunt,” Nie Huaisang said mournfully, accepting the liquor and a bowl of radishes. “I need variety, Wei-gongzi, it’s terrible. You have to help me get rid of it; I can’t stand to look at it any longer.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Wei Wuxian reminded him in between glorious bites of pork. He was going to be a very good friend and do his best to ensure that Nie Huaisang’s request was fulfilled, even if it meant taking seconds and possibly thirds. “I asked for advice, not a visit.”

“You can’t expect me to put my good name on what could be inferior goods,” Nie Huaisang sniffed.

“Your good name? The one known for porn, you mean?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him. “So show me what you have to sell.”

“It’s mostly just the radishes,” Wei Wuxian said. “I tried to tell Wen Qing that we should plant potatoes, but –”

“Forget the radishes,” Nie Huaisang said. “What’s this I hear about you designing a compass that pinpoints resentful energy?”

“Oh, that?” Wei Wuxian said, blinking. “Yeah, I made one of those – the Burial Mounds is the biggest source of resentful energy around, and it’s easier to have a compass that points home instead of north, you know? But what does that have to do with selling radishes?”

“Wei-xiong, you’re hopeless. Leave it all to me, and you’ll have your sect up and running in no time.”

“Yeah, that would be – wait, sect? What sect?”

“Actually,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan against his cheek. He was just plain old ignoring Wei Wuxian now, which, hey! “I take it back – before you leave everything to me, show me what other ideas you’ve been cooking up. What about those talismans you used during the war? The spirit-drawing ones?”

“Spirit summoning,” Wei Wuxian corrected.

“Yes, those. Have you improved on those at all?”

“Uh, I mean, I guess…”

“Good. Show me everything.”

5

“So I have a sect now,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who had come to visit. “We sell things to support it. Apparently.”

Lan Wangji nodded, apparently already aware of this. “The clan elders have agreed that using your flags to draw fierce corpses and other creatures away from areas with innocent human lives is an acceptable use.”

“Even the Lan sect?” Wei Wuxian marveled. “No wonder we’re making so much money.”

Then he sighed.

Lan Wangji looked questioningly at him.

“Well, I have a sect now,” Wei Wuxian said. “Everyone’s expecting me to – you know. Form the core of the sect.”

“Marry,” Lan Wangji concluded. Possibly advised? No, that didn’t sound like he was urging him to go ahead, which made a total of one person. “You do not have to if you do not wish. You already have an heir.”

“A-Yuan’s too young to be a proper heir,” Wei Wuxian objected, though he was secretly gleeful that people were generally accepting him as one. “And obviously I can’t just pick anyone; how will I know if they’re a spy? Or if they’ll secretly dislike A-Yuan?” He sighed again. “The worst part is, I think Nie Huaisang is plotting against me, too.”

“Plotting?”

“Yeah! He’s encouraging people to ask me about marriage, when clearly it’s better for me to stay off the market…what about you, Lan Zhan? Are you planning on marrying?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“We’ll be a bunch of old bachelors, then,” Wei Wuxian said. “You should come more often, A-Yuan loves you…hey! I have a great idea! Why don’t we get married? Then no one will bother us ever again!”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

“Mm? What does that mean?”

“It means I will need to send Nie Huaisang his payment in the morning,” Lan Wangji said, and moved to sit next to Wei Wuxian.

“Payment? You bought something from him? What did you want to –”

Lan Wangji silenced him pretty effectively, no spell necessary, and by the time Wei Wuxian retained enough ability to think through what exactly the purchase must have been, he’d already been converted to thinking that it was a very intelligent purchase to make.

Nie Huaisang really could sell anything.

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

(For clarification, I've only ever watched the first 4 seasons of mlp)

Honestly, completely fair. I'm slowly sinking into another round of rewatching it and I really am not considering much beyond Season 4/Rainbow Rocks in terms of the show. And I sigh everytime Starlight or Tempest or Capper appear in the comics.

You're definitely not alone when it comes to Rainbow Dash being your favourite as a kid. I remember her being the favourite of most of my more well-adjusted friends as a kid. She's multi-coloured and cool and she goes fast, which is basically the 12 year old dream. Probably the main thing that put me off her was the fact I'm not sporty at all and was more of a studier (hence I liked Twilight).

Pinkie Pie's… yeah. Up and down, I think. Usually the writers are doing pretty well by having her both be a good source of comedy, and reminding the kids watching that bringing joy to your loved ones is one of those things that makes life worth living. It's unfortunate that their weird biases mean that her clinginess is never dealt with properly.

Honestly, probably a good thing that nobody really jumps out of the cast, because that means they all got fairly solid coverage: I believe the Mane Six were made to cover all sorts of different types of personality, so your favourite was dependent on who you liked the most or who you felt the most similar to.

High-femme characters who aren’t demure and are respected by the writers are a delight and kind of a… rarity.

Hah, looks somebody watched the same video I did from all the way back 😏.

I've always thought the way Rarity was coded culturally was really unique: she doesn't feel as 'young'? as some of the other Mane Six in how she acts and approaches things. For a long time, the only personalities I could compare to her were my violin teacher at the time (though she lacked the high-femme thing), Jessica Kellgren-Fozard, and maybe Lord Garmadon during his brief stint as a mentor? Which are all super disparate in terms of… everything, but you explaining that attitude towards generosity really nails it down for me.

Hooray for my mutual having life experience :D

…generosity doesn’t mean constantly sacrificing, she relishes the opportunity to lift others up. It’s great.

I'm just now realising how rare of a character piece that is now you've said that. Like the concept of things not being a zero-sum game, that you can both have ambitions and seek to bring others with you without any ill-will. Even in stories not focused on the theme of generosity or ambition, you have so many instances where it's just assumed your protagonist will become and stay the most powerful person in the world, where they're going to be the Best Ever and surpass all their mentors and succeed where others have failed.

sighs Socio-economical climate, am I right?

Probably some internalized misogyny going on there too.

Ah, for me it was a cross between that and dysphoria before realising I was trans. I think I had a grudge against fashion for a long time because people kept expecting that of me, and later because it was a discipline I never got the jump into and hence wasn't experienced with. I think I wasn't too opposed to feminine characters in general (I'm actually pretty okay with dresses as a kid because swooshy colours and it wasn't forced on me in a weird way), but that particular bugbear meant it took me a while to realise I had a lot more in common with Rarity than I expected.

Especially as an artist. I don't think people play up that aspect of fashion-oriented characters enough because it's seen as feminine. It's one of those cool fields like architecture that skirts the edge of art, craft and design, which takes a person with a very varied skillset to tackle. It's fantastic that they basically worked off that to make Rarity's whole character.

…shoutout to Tabitha St. Germain, who also voices Nokama in Bionicle

Okay more and more I am convinced that Lego and Hasbro just rented out the same voiceover studio for all their stuff in the 2010's.

Oh look, there's our friend Rarity GOING DOWN IN FLAMES! ISN'T FRIENDSHIP MAGIC?!?

…you're going to need to drop that episode. That sounds fantastic and I do not remember it

Who was your favourite of the Mane 6 from MLP? :O

(For clarification, I've only ever watched the first 4 seasons of mlp)

Back in the day it was Rainbow Dash. Very early on I picked her and like, superfocused on what scenes she was in and everything she did (I used to do this with my faves when I was a kid). I think it was a shallow combination of recognizing her name (and Pinkie Pie)+rainbows are neat+she is the cool one+she go fast and fast=cool (solid 12 year old logic).

I still like her, but I'm not sure I'd say she's still my favourite. No one really jumps out at me. Maybe Pinkie Pie? She's pretty fun, and she has a lot of genuinely sweet moments, but when she's done bad, she's done baaad. Like, please somebody stop her.

Honestly Rarity's probably the best of the mane six. Her good moments are great and hilarious, and her self-confidence is a delight. I love that when she helps people it’s more in a boisterous way rather than soft, if that makes sense. It’s a really charming quality you see especially in older people from kind of rural-y places (my home town’s got a fair few of those), and it a more unique way of approaching generosity in fiction, treating it as such a genuine joy. For Rarity, generosity doesn’t mean constantly sacrificing, she relishes the opportunity to lift others up. It’s great.

High-femme characters who aren’t demure and are respected by the writers are a delight and kind of a…rarity. I had a tendency to reject feminine characters as a kid, because I didn’t relate to them (simply could not fathom caring about makeup, or shopping, or fashion and attractiveness at that age. Probably some internalized misogyny going on there too), but as I’ve gotten older I’ve learned to enjoy those characters a lot more.

Even her less-good written moments are tolerable, because she just has such presence doing anything she does (shoutout to Tabitha St. Germain, who also voices Nokama in Bionicle. This fun fact is mind-blowing to precisely one person, and that person is me). Rarity always feels in character doing everything she does, no matter how mundane or this-is-clearly-just-for-plot-establishing the scene is. She rarely misses, and when she does, it just doesn’t drag as bad as other character’s misses.

Also “Oh look, there's our friend Rarity GOING DOWN IN FLAMES! ISN'T FRIENDSHIP MAGIC?!?” might be my favourite line in the show.

[doitwritenow]

How long did Stephen spend in the 14,000,605 futures?

So, I was doing some thinking. 14,000,605 is a big number--big enough that it’s meaning sort of becomes unquantifiable, just like the blank looks you get when you try to explain how far the sun is from Earth. And remember, it’s canon that Stephen didn’t just see the CliffsNotes of those timelines:

"He has to physically live them, and then die in each of them, and right before he dies, he has to reset it, as we saw at the end of Doctor Strange, and do it again. And take copious notes each time he does it." - Joe Russo

So, if every one of those timelines was a life Stephen lead, what does it translate to? What, in terms of time, is the value of all those realities?

Math time.

There are two broad designations we can sort Stephen’s ultimate futures into. The first are futures where Stephen focuses on preventing the Snap, and the second are futures where Stephen focuses on undoing a Snap that did happen. I can only imagine it takes a significant number of futures for Stephen to give up trying to keep Thanos from getting all the Stones. I’ll call that 3/5 of the futures; little less than half of them spent undoing as opposed to preventing.

Within those two broad designations, there’s another set of factors: the Dusting itself. Assuming the Blip is truly random, we can generalize that in 1/2 the futures, Stephen was in the dusted 50%. By definition, if Stephen (and indeed anyone) is dusted in the prevention futures, it’s game over and he abandons that timeline. That leaves us with three vague situational constants:

Okay, great. Now for the part where I get to make a couple of educated guesses. 

How long, then, is a “prevention future”? The shortest one probably starts around the length of the battle on Titan in Infinity War. From the moment Stephen returns from the time projection to the moment Thanos supposedly kills everyone and takes the Time Stone is, by my estimation, at least 45 minutes. We all know Stephen Strange is a self-sacrificial bastard (I will cite canon for this if you truly need me to but I choose to assume you aren’t blind), so he wouldn’t have considered this a true loss until Thanos retrieved the rest of the Stones in Wakanda. (The events on Earth aren’t a variable in this; Stephen can’t influence them when he’s not actually there). Let’s tack on another 45 minutes for Wakanda. 

Shortest prevention timeline: 1.5 hours

What about the longest time, then? The longest possible situation I imagine goes something like this:

Stephen & co. leave Titan and hide in the reaches of the universe

Thanos goes to Earth, kills everyone there, and probably mind-controls Wong using the Mind Stone into disclosing who has the Time Stone and preforming some sort of tracking spell to find it.

Thanos tracks down Stephen & co.

Thanos captures Stephen (”You’ll find removing a dead man’s spell troublesome”)

Torture. Extraordinary amounts of torture.

Snap

OR:

Stephen & co. portal back to Earth and collect all the remaining Infinity Stones

The Guardians help them hide the Stones amongst various parts of the universe, in pocket dimensions, behind containments, etc.

(Now I think this is a great plan, but canon dictates it has to fail so:) Thanos eventually finds the Stones.

Pain, suffering, death of Stephen & co.

Snap.

Now, Stephen spent a whole other blog-post worth of time repeatedly dying inside a time loop to save the dimension as we know it, so we’ve got to assume he doesn’t break quick under torture. Therefore, I’m going to call the longest prevention future 7 years. 

Longest prevention timeline: 7 years.

That’s quite a difference! I’m going to assume that most of the futures fall on the shorter side, and these higher futures are outliers. By standard distribution and some rather arbitrary bounding of graphs, I find the average time spent in these futures to be about 10220 hours, or approximately 1 year and 2 months. (There’s 8760 hours in a year, and in favor of underestimating instead of overestimating, I chose to assume that very few futures drifted in the 7 year direction.)

Alright, so, Stephen spends an average of 1 year and 2 months in each of the the prevention timelines. Remember, we decided about 3/5 of the 14,000,605 futures are prevention futures. That’s 8,400,363 futures. 1 year and 2 months in those futures means Stephen lived 9,800,423 years and six months in just the prevention futures. That’s a hell of a long time. 

But now, let’s do the undoing futures.

So, in 50% of these, Stephen gets dusted. He has to stick around these futures a while after that before abandoning them as failures--and a really long time to be sure, as well. So depending on how long it takes him to realize the consistent factors that lead to undoing a snap (Tony being alive, Scott coming back from the Quantum Realm, Nebula in general), he’d have quite a long time to wait in these. He’d only know to abandon them when those critical factors were undermined/killed/prevented by Thanos or other means. 

 In the One Future, he would’ve had to stick around for 5 years because of that stupid rat. But Scott’s escape from the Quantum Realm could have been hurried by Stephen mentioning that fact to Tony or somebody before Thanos Snapped. Remember, though, that Stephen would have had to live out timelines, probably a good number of them, where the rat thing happened all on its own to even know it was important. Let’s say, then, that the One Future was on the higher end of the spectrum for the length of this type of future (undoing: Stephen dusted). On average, the length of the dusted undoing futures was about 2 years. 

Blah blah blah, math math math. 2/5 of 14,000,605 is 5,600,242, and half of that is 2,800,121. 2 years in each of those futures gets us right back to 5,600,242, but years this time. 

So what about the timelines where Stephen lived? Since he knows the way the future will play out, it’s safe to assume his existence speeds those futures. I would say the longest of these (undoing: Stephen lives) is around a year. Giving up the Stone means Tony doesn’t trust him and hesitates at the wrong moment, etc. etc. etc. Stephen is killed by other factors besides the Snap in some. Thanos still has the Stones when they try and kill him to take them. On and on and on and on. 

The shortest ones would probably be no longer than a month--those Infinity Stones can really do some damage. Which means the average time in the non-dusted undoing futures is around 6.5 months.

14,000,605 * (2/5) * (1/2) =  2,800,121.  2,800,121 * 6.5 = 18,200,786.5. 12 months in a year means approximately 1,516,732 years. 

Adding all those sections up gives us 16,917,397 years. 

That is 208,857 lifetimes. That’s longer than humans have existed on earth. That’s about 84.6 times as long as humans have existed on Earth. If Stephen truly lived through all those futures, he’d be 1/250 the age of planet Earth itself.

Even if we take the very bare minimum and say Stephen spent only a day, on average, in those 14,000,605 futures, that’s still 38,357.8 years. If we say he only spent an hour in each of those futures THAT’S STILL 1,598.2 YEARS!!! WHAT THE FUCK????

*a series of deep breaths*

And in every single one of those futures, in every one, Stephen fought and died and killed and lived beside Tony Stark, Peter Parker, and the Guardians of the Galaxy. In every single one, he got to know them, got to understand them. Thousands upon thousands of lifetimes, and Stephen Strange grew to know the Avengers like he knew himself. 

Think about that, and think about the look on his face when he kneels to Tony’s dead body, mmhmm? 

(Thanks, I’ll just be crying for 14,000,605 years).

Tl;dr: 16,917,397 years is a reasonable, even low estimate for the years Stephen Strange lived while viewing ultimate futures. Give my sorcerer the recognition he deserves.

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Fandom Dive #1: Assassin's Creed

(I was going to call this 'Fandom Report' or 'Fandom Deep Dive' but really, that would be more effort than I am willing to put into things)

A short note to begin with as that could be relevant going forward: turns out Assassin's Creed is a difficult franchise for this sort of thing, as it is a franchise consisting of way too many games - we might look to go for concise series or installments in the future.

With that out of the way, let's do a quick roundup of some stats:

At time of writing, AO3 has 13042 works (although this seems like an older fandom, so one should probably look at platforms like FF.net for a better picture)

AO3 has roughly a four-way split between Gen, Teen, Mature and Explicit, with a slight uptick in T

As usual, the most popular shipping category is M/M, but there's a substantial amount of F/M and Gen as well

For most-tagged characters we've got are Ezio, Altair, Desmond and Connor (which I take to be the protagonists)

The 5 most popular ships appear to be:

Malik/Altair

Enzio/Leonardo Da Vinci

Haytham/Connor

Shaun/Desmond

Jacob Frye/Reader

Following up we've got the most common Crossover franchises:

We've got all the common story tags (Fluff, Angst, H/C, Romance), plus several NSFW tags (nothing weird, but people seem to be diligent about tagging that stuff) as well as a canon (canon for the fandom, as per the Rule of Threes that I only learned about recently) Modern AU tag

Sorting by Kudos, the top fics are either crossovers (which makes sense, more kudos from other fandoms) or rated E (also not surprising)

Filtering by bookmarks gets you mostly the same

I was somehow hoping for more cool heist and assassination fics. Granted, I only read through like the first three pages for every query, but still :(

So, let me do the thing we're actually here for: summarize the story so far:

- Ezio is the first protagonist I think, he fights the Borgia family for an apple (The Apple of Eden?) and gets to suffer quite a bit

- Desmond might be second? He fights for an eye. Used to be a bartender, be friends with a dude named Clay (Subject 16) and in the end he gets the eye in a temple and dies to stop a solar flare? People are unhappy about this. It's possibly the fault of the organisation they were working for before

- Altair I think is some sort of their ancestor but he seems pretty popular, I presume he gets to do stuff too. He apparently has a key moment in his life in a library, but other than the fact he has a friend called Malik I don't really know stuff about him

- There's a dude named Connor whose other name is inpronouncable and intypeable. No idea what he's up to

- There's several people named after Roman gods, and I refuse to believe that's a coincidencd. They are evil, but seem to have gotten along with the protagonists for a while. They have some sort of Isu Influence, or Isu Technology (possibly tying into how time travel works here). They seem connected to Abstergo, possibly the name of the organisation? They also appear connected to a place called 'The Gray'. One of their evil schemes seems to include the solar flare Desmond dies to stop

- There's an Apple, an Eye, and a Prophet - no clue at which point the prophet comes in

- There's Templar knights that seem to oppose the assassins. I presume they want the relics for religious reasons (I vaguely recall seeing a video about how they came to be because time travel pregnancies, and the girl's dad looking for the perpetrator demon, but I could be misremembering)

- Somebody might run a surveillance state in the present?

- Of course the assassins are time-travelling

- (People ship the time travellers - is that incest? I can't quite tell wether they are related or not)

- There's a Bleeding Effect people seem to really love, I'm not sure what that does exactly, but it seems to be some sort of you know what your ancestors know kinda deal. Sometimes you might literally see them. Unclear.

- I have no idea who this Jacob Frye is or why he's so popular for a Y/N ship

I'm not sure if that's good enough, or absolutely wrong? Also looking forward to formatting suggestions. Do let me know @sanguen.

Sincerely

@yami-musume

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Ratlines

Little One-Shot about Day-to-Day Spade Pirates life, sat rather in the beginning of their journey once they finally got themselves a nice big ship. :D

My headcanon is that Ace is ridiculously good at all things that demand good body control, balance and a lack of fear.

It was really unfair, Saki mused, how effortless Ace made it all look. Seeing him balance up on the ratlines as if he’d been born up there simultaneously made her want to gawk in awe and scream in frustration. Not even looking where he stepped, he easily maneuvered around, shifting his weight as needed and working the sails as if he’d been doing it all his life, as if he wasn’t several meters up in the air on ropes of seemingly no substance. Watching his sinewy forearms as he gripped a line and started working with it, she could hardly believe that he’d never done more than sail around his little home island until a few weeks ago.

“So – are you guys just there to watch, or is somebody maybe inclined to help me?” he shouted down to them and Saki almost jumped, ripping her eyes from his arms to meet his eyes. He was grinning down at them, black locks tousled by the wind. Once again he had left his yellow shirt unbuttoned, granting her a clear view of his pectorals and toned abdominal muscles. Honestly, he looked like advertisement. For what she wasn’t sure. A romance novel perhaps, or for joining the marines. Or a pirating life. Which, coincidently, she’d done; although in her defense, there had been much less advertising going on back then and mostly it had been gut feeling and a couple of lies to herself that she’d leave on just the next island. Well, several next islands had gone by and she had absolutely no desire to leave anymore – and the advertisement didn’t feature into that. It was just a bonus she enjoyed.

This, she thought, was highly unprofessional. She couldn’t decide whether she and her hormones or he and his obliviousness were to blame. Perhaps both, but she leaned towards blaming him. After all, she could hardly not notice all of it, not after years of learning how to take note of every detail that might come in handy later. And oh boywere there many details to notice about Portgas D. Ace.

“Seriously, guys?” he yelled, putting a hand in his hip, all but pouting. “You’re gonna let me do all the work up here?”

“I’m more of a feet-on-solid-ground-kinda-pirate,” Saber answered, grinning and giving Ace a thumbs up. “But you’re doing a wonderful job up there, captain. Exquisite form, great balance! Keep up the good work!” Ace glared at him.

“I would,” Aggie shouted, quick to make sure his captain knew he was willing. He was fidgeting, looking up at Ace. “But I’m really not good at climbing. I’m sorry, captain! I promise I’ll take care of the anchor instead! In fact, I’ll do it right now!” The big man hastily saluted and then jogged off.

Deuce seemed to still debate with himself whether he should try to help when Saki stripped out of her jacket and handed it to him, just before kicking off her shoes and wiggling her toes in preparation. “Well, Kotatsu lacks opposable thumbs, even though he’s probably better suited than the rest of us in all other regards; and I believe Deuce should probably stay safe, so he can put the shards of my broken bones back into place if I drop from all the way up there. Anyways, I’m coming up! I haven’t done this in a while,” she yelled up at Ace. “So don’t expect too much!”

Kotatsu was sitting half-hidden behind a barrel, peaking out at them as if he was expecting an ambush anytime. Hearing his name, he uttered a soft mewl, and dared to take one step forward, watching her as she moved to the mast and started climbing. It took her a few moments to adjust her movements – it was easy to climb up the first few meters along the mast where a sort of ladder had been worked in, but once she had to step onto the ratlines, it got more challenging. They swayed with the ship, pushed this way and that by the rough sea. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but looking down now and seeing how small Deuce and Saber looked made her gulp. Dropping down from this height would hurt, no matter how well she’d stick the landing.

She didn’t even realize she had closed her hands around the rope in a veritable death grip before Ace was suddenly next to her, beaming at her with a wide smile. “I knew I could count on you!”

Startled, she almost lost her balance for a second, but found it again – just before she felt him move behind her, one foot between to hers. The sturdy width of his chest touched her back briefly and she felt goosebumps run up the length of her spine, sending a shiver through her body. He probably thought she had gotten scared, because he leaned closer, close enough for her to feel the heat he always seemed to emanate. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly, just behind her ear. “I’ve got you.”

One of his hands came to cover hers, gently prying her fingers loose. For a moment she watched, fascinated by how much bigger his hand looked compared to hers. Not that she hadn’t been aware that she was the smallest of the Spade Pirates – she just usually made up for it with her big mouth. Now, though, she couldn’t quite come up with anything to say.

“You don’t have to hold on so tightly. Just make sure your feet are planted firmly. See?” He nudged her feet wider apart with his own and she immediately felt a better balance in her stance.

At least she was sure now, it was definitely his fault that she got so distracted. Every other wave swayed them enough to make his chest brush against her back, reminding her of how little fabric there actually was between them.

“I know, I just have to get used to it again,” she answered with some delay, but made no move to disentangle herself from him. She was fighting bravely to alter the route of her train of thought to a different station. “Where do you want me?”

There was pause and she felt his gaze on her, and only now did she realize the potential innuendo. Eyes widening, she tried to think of a way to make sure this didn’t turn very awkward very quickly, but then he lifted his hand from hers and she almost panicked. Before she could say or do anything, she felt it land on her hip, gently coaxing her to move past him to the other side.

“Let’s get you used to being up here first. Climb over there to the other side and then move up. See that rope line there just below the yard? That’s the foot rope. Once you’re securely there, move to the outer part of the yard. I’ll show you what to do to set sail,” he said quietly, still close to her. “Don’t worry about anything but keeping your balance for now. I’ll be right behind you, I won’t let you fall.”

She swallowed, looking over her shoulder to meet his eyes. He was still smiling at her, a twinkle in his eyes and she didn’t have the faintest trace of doubt that he would indeed catch her if she fell. “You realize that if you’d try to catch me, most likely both of us would be dropping out of the sky like dead birds instead of only just me? Which means two sets of bone shards Deuce has to assemble?” she asked him with the barest lift of an eyebrow.

His smile widened as he shook his head. “Jeez, have some faith in your captain, will you? A lightweight like you won’t be a problem.” His hand on her hip squeezed gently, and he added: “Plus, you won’t fall. You have good sense of balance. Now, come on, move it! We’ve got a sail to set if we want to leave this island!” He shifted and she felt him brush past her to open up the path he had indicated just before. She resisted the reflexive reaction to shudder at the sensation.

“Oi, you two gonna do something interesting or are you set on just snuggling up there?” Saber called out. “I’m getting bored!”

She felt Ace stiffen next to her, but before he could do or say something, she turned to look down at their crewmates. Deuce and Saber stood watching them, hands in hips. “You jealous?” she yelled down. “Should have come up here yourself if you wanted some extra time with the captain in lofty heights!”

“Not sure he’s my type,” Saber shouted back, flashing teeth, “But do let me know if his performance is as good up close as from down here!”

“His performance is for sure better than yours from any point of view,” she answered and stuck out her tongue at him. He clutched his hands to his chest in a dramatic gesture and tumbled away as if she’d shot him. Even from all the way up here she could see Deuce roll his eyes at them.

Ace groaned and she chuckled, looking at him. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he was actually blushing slightly. Noticing her eyes on him, he seemed startled for a second before quickly averting his eyes to look back down to Saber.

“If you’ve got time to run your mouth, you’ve got time to wash the dishes!” Ace told him sternly. Then, without looking at her, he placed a hand on the top of her head and ruffled her hair, making her yelp and duck away. “And you – get moving! Unless you want me to rate yourperformance!”

Saber was shouting something about tending to his wounded heart, but ambled off towards the kitchen anyhow, and Saki started to climb along the path Ace had indicated to her earlier. True to his word, he was always but a step behind her and once or twice when she struggled to find her footing, she felt his warm hand at the small of her back to help her find it.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached the footropes he had mentioned, pausing a moment to lean against the mast and catch her breath. Her heart rate definitely had gone up, and she was glad the wind didn’t feel as strong as she’d initially feared.

“You good?” Ace asked and she turned to look at him as he came to stand on the other side of the mast. When she nodded, he beamed at her and with one easy move hopped onto the yard just before extending his hand to her. She stared at it with some confusion.

“I thought you said to get to the footropes? Like… here?” As she spoke, she wiggled her toes for emphasis.

“True,” he answered and beamed at her, “but I thought you might come up here for a second to just enjoy the feeling.” She glanced from his hand to him and then along the yard – sure, it was definitely more solid ground than the ropes were. As she grabbed his hand, he surprised her by lifting her easily up to the yard with one hand. She did manage to keep from flailing, but she was quick to grab at the first best solid thing she could get her hands on – which was Ace. He laughed as her fists bunched into his shirt, feet splayed wide and one hand on the mast as he balanced them both.

“Too fast?” he asked with a grin and if he hadn’t currently been the single static object within arm’s reach, she might have considered revenge. As was, she decided for the more demure route and elected not to answer. Until his grin widened at her lack of reply.

“Is that often a problem for you?” she retorted and almost rolled her eyes at his completely clueless look of confusion. It was no fun to tease if you had to explain the jab first. “No, usually you can keep up just fine,” he answered earnestly and she huffed a breath of laugh.

Ah, sweet, sweet Ace.

“Glad to hear that,” she said and slowly let go of his shirt with a least one hand to try and find her footing again. After a moment, she let go also with her other hand, but kept it outstretched to reach for him again if necessary. He watched as she took a tentative step away from him and then another, spreading out her arms to keep her balance more easily. Once she had reached the outer edge of the yard, she turned on her heel and made her way back to him. She had almost managed when a particularly strong wave made the ship sway and she felt herself tilt to the site. With a yelp she allowed herself to drop onto all fours, hands grabbing for hold just as one foot slipped off completely. Ace was already next to her, his hand firmly closed around her upper arm, while the other held onto the yard tightly to catch both their weights if necessary.

“Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?!” she heard Deuce yell from the ground. “Stop screwing around and come back down here! I don’t even have any equipment to take care of a broken bone!”

Her eyes found Ace’s, who looked her over carefully before breaking out into a smile again. “Good catch,” he said her and she just had to laugh. Just leave it to him to praise you even when you had basically just failed.

“I’m serious!” Deuce warned them. “Nobody is allowed to break a single bone, you hear me?!”

“Loud and clear!” Saki shouted back and climbed down to the rat-lines with Ace’s help, where she could stand more securely. “Now, show me what to do – and then I should probably practice by yard dancing skills a bit, maybe a bit further down for now.”

He smiled at her again, slowly letting go of her arm when he was sure she had a good stance. “Sounds like a plan.”

[mikami]

Kinda replying to that other ask about the warehouse... I think to recall (correct me if I'm wrong) that Light doesn't care even if he's found out? He is along with the rest of the Task Force and Near's team the only one daring still to come after Kira in a Kira world. Even if he came out of it and said "Hey, I'm Kira. I've killed all these people there. Somebody should probably go clean that idk" nobody would do anything to him. I kinda understood by Aizawa's horror at thinking Light was going to try to convince his family about Kira being actually a force of good that Light's plan was more or less that in fact. I understood he didn't (necessarily) intend to hide anymore after the meeting with Near, since no one remained to oppose him. Am I wrong? Am I forgetting something? It's been a while

I mean, Aizawa isn't precisely psychic. Him speculating about Light's plans does not actually clarify what Light is thinking, haha.

Technically there is no direct statement from Light as to whether or not he wants to come out as Kira - but honestly, the complete absence of "and then I will reveal myself" in his thoughts is telling in itself. And then you have this...

...where he specifically speaks about everyone who knows of the notebook being dead - of course, he could technically prove that he is Kira without revealing the notebook precisely, but like....

.... why though?

I think it's honestly wildly OOC for Light to reveal himself, haha.

There is absolutely nothing he gains from it. It is in a lot of ways directly counterproductive to his goals - he wants people to reform their way of thinking via thinking of Kira as a semi-divine force. Giving a name to Kira does exactly nothing to help that - it hinders it.

There are exactly no upsides and only downsides.

Like...

1. Yes, Light wants his family to eventually accept Kira. But outing himself as Kira before they do will literally just destroy his already damaged relationship with the last few people he loves?

2. Nobody is fighting Kira anymore, sure, but that's because they're afraid and they don't know how. Outing yourself is like ASKING for people to try and assassinate you. It's not like the Kira approval rate is actually 100%.

3. Again, giving a provable human identity to Kira makes him a dictator rather than a shapeless principle of justice. I think it would honestly hurt the Kira approval ratings immensely.

4. He's suddenly in a position where he'll be looked to for making direct political calls and that has exactly never been his MO - Light has always allowed politics to largely sort themselves out, he is NOT aiming for active world domination at all. (That is more Takada's idea for what Kira should be like, hilariously.)

There is just......... absolutely zero advantage to outing himself. It's a hassle, it's dangerous, it sucks.

I do think the whole "Demegawa tries to build Kira a temple" subplot that is met with disgust by both Light and Mikami says all about how they feel about this kind of 'worship', haha.

[kinomiakai]

do you have any tips on writing sasuke and naruto? specifically things like inner thoughts and dialogue?

Oh!!! This is such a cool question, thank you so much anon. This...actually got really, really long, but I hope it’s actually helpful!! This is just the way I write them, so take everything I say with a grain of salt!!

I’ll put it under a read more because it got so long haha :)

General advice:

For dialogue, generally, I feel like what actually helped me a ton was when I had to transcribe a bunch of interviews for school. You have to include everything, the body language, the ums, the stutters - so I’d actually really recommend trying that? Ideally finding something that isn’t edited, like a livestream or something, and trying to write down a few minutes of what the person says perfectly. It’s actually really, really hard!! Your brain automatically deletes the repetitions and stutters and spare words, so forcing yourself to identify them really helps with figuring out how people talk and writing more realistic dialogue. An example would be something like:

“I went to the—like the—the, um, ba—the store in the back alley, you know?”

(Things in there: (1) repetitions of “the”, (2) people say “like” a lot and your brain tends to delete that, (3) same with ums/uhs/other noises of thought, and (4) the way your brain can skip ahead to the next out-of-order word and you back up and go back to finish the thought. That happens a lot!)

You do have to balance it with readability, I find, because some people stutter a lot (especially if they’re in thought), but writing it all out like that really helped me learn how people talk, so I really recommend it!! I think if you can hear their voice saying it in your head, you’re on the right track.

For things like inner thoughts, it’s…sort of like dialogue, but less restrained. Inner thoughts are really fun because you not only get to play with being an unreliable narrator, but you also get to have people’s thoughts betray themselves. You can control your thoughts, but only to some extent, so something I really like to play with is cutting off a thought that’s about too admit something the character isn’t ready to admit (but something that they know, deep down). Like:

“Of course, his shirt did…smell nice. Like him. And there was something warm and settling about being here. Not that—not that this felt like home, or anything, it was just nice, and comfortable, and he just wasn’t used to these sorts of things so of course he—

He shook his head.

Never mind. He ought to get out of here anyway.”

Inner thoughts also are fun to tell a bit of a story with. You can contradict yourself or correct yourself, and a metaphor can sort of change the more the character things about it. Your writing doesn’t have to be perfect because thoughts really aren’t—but they will probably be real run-on sentences hahaha. Dashes and commas everywhere!!! The thoughts never end!!

Character-specific advice:

A big part of how I write Sasuke and Naruto depends on the AU it is set in. I’ll write generally about canon here, but obviously things change if Sasuke grew up with a family, if Naruto got some therapy - they might be more in tune with their emotions, they might be more explicit about the way they feel or more honest. A good example of this is in Something Good, where Sasuke is much more honest about himself and emotions and all that than he would be in canon—this is really only because he had Itachi and actually got help for his trauma. This effects Naruto a lot in AUs too because he doesn’t always have the same tendency to really repress himself, the way he does in canon. So you actually have a lot of wiggle room, as long as you’re focusing on the way your characters have lived until they got to this point.

Another bit to think about: my ability to really delve into character’s heads comes from the fact that I write Third Person Limited, which is third person but in specific perspectives as opposed Third Person Omniscient, which has the sort of free-floating narrator where you can be in everyone’s heads all at once, so it will definitely read differently.

For Naruto:

Naruto speaks more casually:

 He swears more, but not as much as Kiba

 He tends to slur some words together, saying things like kinda and gotcha and sorta where Sasuke wouldn’t

Where Sasuke might say something like “this was certainly…powerful” Naruto would say something like “this was real fucking strong!!!’

More exclamation marks, more straightforward, more sort of loud?? Types of thought and dialogue???

Naruto is grammatically incorrect! Spell check is often angry with me about this

Naruto will be the first to notice something is wrong with someone else and spend loads of time thinking and assessing it

Naruto will be the last person to acknowledge and assess something that is wrong with himself

His head is pretty straight forward, he’s less likely to use metaphors and flowery comparisons to describe things

E.g. Sasuke’s eyes were just—weird. Like the could see right through you, right into you—Naruto felt like some part of him needed to hide, because if he kept looking for a second longer Sasuke would know everything—

He looked away.

He tends to repeat himself and not really describe the way he feels, because he doesn’t really understand it. This also goes for positive emotions!! There is a lot of “huh I felt something. Anyway,” with Naruto dfsfs

Naruto expresses a lot of affection by doing stuff for people - this expands past Sasuke, but can come back to bite him. He’s eager to say yes to favours but this links back to him putting others before himself/wanting everyone to love him

For Sasuke:

Sasuke speaks more formally, but not as formal as Itachi

 Also mostly grammatically correct, uses mostly full punctuation in text messages (Itachi uses full punctuation, Naruto is probably all chatspeak but I write it as partial chatspeak to make it easier to read)

Sasuke’s head will run away with itself all the time

He’s quite poetic and romantic, he’ll speak in much more metaphors

E.g. “Naruto’s eyes were like the sky. Like breathing in the air after it rained—when it was cool and crisp and alive, when the world awoke again after it had all been grey. Something in Sasuke certainly felt…alive.”

Sasuke’s more of an asshole

 He’s sarcastic and sort of eyeroll-y at lots of stuff, including himself and his own thoughts. He tends to be more pessimistic and negative, too!

Exception: Naruto. Naruto is amazing and Sasuke secretly believes he can do literally anything. He will NEVER say it out loud unless Naruto forces him out of it (read: in moments where Naruto is being negative/down on himself/being out character in a way that Sasuke feels like he’s a bit scared and needs to shake him with something honest and true) but he will say it in his own head because he can’t control that. Take that, Sasuke

 He can be real judgy—e.g. in Enter Naruto where he calls Itachi’s coat pretentious.

He can be even more judgy about himself. He’s pretty hard on himself and will frequently put himself down in his thoughts, which he thinks about as factual statements

E.g. “nothing compared to his brother, of course, but Itachi was perfect and Sasuke was still...just himself.

 Now if only his father could realize that, too.”

E.g. “And Naruto looked at him as if it was true, but Sasuke knew it wasn’t. Sasuke had chosen this path, and he’d walked down it. Naruto seemed to think he could simply turn around, but Sasuke…knew better.”

He speaks less, which is helped by the fact that you can totally call him out if you’re writing his POV, or you can use Naruto to call him out because Naruto knows him like the back of his hand

His affection is more quiet?? More nonverbal, in general, than Naruto’s. Not that Naruto is like super good at expressing himself either but he will get closer than Sasuke will out loud

That said, Sasuke is really fun to write as not being able to control the way he seeks Naruto out, through small intimate actions like folding his clothes or wanting to spar or sitting just a little too close to Naruto on the couch. Sort of partially unconscious expressions of love - Sasuke is all over those. (He doesn’t have to be, but it’s really fun to write him that way; you all know how I love writing deeply-in-love Sasuke)

Their fatal flaws when it comes to writing Third Person Limited: both of these assholes are really unlikely to comment on specific details, so you’re gonna have to write from somebody else’s POV if you really want to hit home about how cute Sakura’s new outfit looks. You’re only gonna get to describe it if she’s like...asking Naruto about it in some way, or if Sasuke is being a judgy dick about it or something shfsdkhfd

BUT, they will notice those things about each other, especially if they are in love or are starting to fall, and it’s one of those quiet little ways you can play with to make their emotions evident.

I feel like I could actually keep going about all this but this is SO LONG and I might start repeating myself, so I’ll stop here. Thank you for the ask, anon, I hope it was helpful!!! It was fun to answer :)

[sunshinejins]

if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

(title from brother by kodaline)

so, hi!  jatp has reignited my desire to write again and this time i think i might actually finish a whole fic.  so uh, here it is :) please let me know if you like it, I’ll hopefully update asap, but i’m in uni so asap may be in like two weeks.  unless people really like it.  then, probably sooner lmao.

pairing: julie molina x luke patterson

fandom: julie and the phantoms

warnings: death bc rose, and i swear once but other than that i think nothing else?

Julie didn’t want to be frustrated, she really didn’t.  In fact, she wanted to be sad, mourning, depressed, or literally anything other than slightly pissed off all the time.  It’s incredibly exhausting to be angry all the time, and she felt like being sad would at least give her blood a break from simmering.

But her mom died.  And apparently her body only knows how to process grief by developing a rather annoying tendency to be irritated constantly.

She tries to forget it though.  Instead of wallowing in the negative feelings that cloud her family in the months following Rose Molina’s death, she throws herself into distractions.  She gets a job at a coffee shop near the USC campus and puts almost all her effort into becoming a top employee.  Her grades don’t drop because thankfully her professors seemed to all inherently understand that she just couldn’t sing anymore.  Like at all.

The world kept spinning.  Julie could only hope to hold on.

That’s how she ended up, six months later, complaining over a milk frother about her very well-intentioned best friend to the only person she knew would listen.

“Flynn just doesn’t understand,” Julie moans, shutting off the machine and dumping the contents unceremoniously into a to-go cup.  Her coworker, Allison, raises an eyebrow and swipes a rag at the milk spill that pools under the cup.

“Did she try to get you to sing again?”

“Surprise karaoke night with her girlfriend and a couple kids from class.  Her intentions were pure though so I don’t even know why I’m upset.” Julie shoves a lid onto the cup and slides it across the counter to a pre-occupied businessman who doesn’t notice the extra milk soaked into the bottom.  Allison nods thoughtfully and starts dumping coffee beans into the espresso machine.  Julie watches her with slight awe.  Allison was one of those people that terrified Julie when she met her; everything about her felt polished and put together down to the blunt cut of her pale blonde hair and the curve of her smirk when she smiled.  Soon enough, Julie discovered that she was as warm as any of her other friends, but it had taken a lot of closing shifts and smoothie runs to come to that conclusion.

Allison sets down the bag of coffee beans and gives Julie one of her solemn looks; it’s the sort of look where Julie thinks Allison could probably read her mind if she tried hard enough.

“Maybe they’re going about it wrong.  You haven’t been around music properly in what?  A year?  What if you just need to sit and listen to music again to just get you used to the environment?” Julie thinks for a moment.  Allison raises a fair point, and it’s the complete opposite tactic that everyone else has been trying, which has been to shove music in front of her to sing and give her expectant and hopeful looks. It’s a trial run.  Something casual.

“Where would I go?” Allison smiles a bit and passes Julie a container of oat milk to put away.

“There’s a bar off Sunset that’s hosting an open mic tonight.  Very relaxed and casual vibes.  I could pick you up from your apartment and take you.  We haven’t hung out since that movie night a while ago.”  Julie hesitates.  It’s not that she’s opposed to spending a night with Allison, but a small part of her feels like she’s cheating on her current circle of emotional support humans by agreeing to go. Not that her dad or Carlos or Tia would mind, but Flynn would possibly take offence and that alone stalled Julie for longer than she realized. Allison clocks the look on her face and amends the statement.

“Flynn is obviously welcome too.”

A mind reader, Julie swears. 

“Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”

***

Julie’s feeling significantly less optimistic when Allison’s car has been driven away by the valet and herself, Flynn, and Allison are all standing in line outside the club. Julie can feel the bass of the songs playing more than she can hear them, but the proximity of music is enough to make her palms sweat. Other than the music the coffee shop plays and the strains of country she hears through Carlos’ wall, Julie hasn’t heard proper music since Tia Victoria sang “Amazing Grace” for her mother’s funeral. Flynn notices her nervous look. 

“Chill, Jules. It’s all very chill. We’re just gonna listen to a couple bands.” 

“Flynn’s right. And if at any point you want to bail, we can go get soft pretzels.” 

“But we should try and stay for the whole thing!”

“However, we’re also going to respect you if you can’t do that,” Allison punctuates this sentence with a meaningful eyebrow raise and Flynn nods vigorously. Julie swallows and tries to mimic the courage she had a few hours ago.  The bartender scrutinizes their IDs for a moment before allowing them to sweep into the bar and Julie’s jaw nearly drops at the volume of people contained inside.  Nearly every seat is filled, and the standing areas are packed with people all jamming to the band onstage that’s currently playing what Julie has to admit is a pretty kick ass cover of “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers.  

Allison somehow discovers a table near the edge of the bar, and disappears off to get them drinks.  Flynn’s rocking out already, and Julie feels a few of the nerves in her stomach even out as the realization that she doesn’t have to sing sinks into her bones.  Allison was right, unsurprisingly.  If she focuses hard enough, she can even push out the memories of coming to these sorts of open nights with her mom.  Flynn shoots her a large and grateful grin and Julie lets herself smile back.  She’s taking a step.  She’s doing it.

Allison returns as the band switches and a new band begins to play a hyped up cover of “Africa” by Toto.  The three girls lapse into quiet appreciation of the music, with Flynn singing along to every song played, Allison bobbing her head to herself and occasionally letting out a few notes in her vocal range, and Julie just quietly appreciating the fact that she doesn’t feel like throwing up.

It’s all very casual, just like her friends said.

Until it’s not.

As the third band of the night begins their last song, Julie retreats to find the bathroom.  It’s hidden nearly backstage, and she’s just about to make it to the door when she hears the panicked shouts of someone from near the curtain which separates the small backstage from the actual performing area.

“Dude, I cannot believe he bailed on us.”

“Are you really surprised?  Bobby was a piece of shit.”

“Hey, he didn’t use to be!”

“Calm down, Reg.  You know he’s been treating us like garbage ever since that record label thought he had a ‘marketable voice’ or whatever they said.”

“Guys he bailed on us, what are we supposed to do?”

Julie, despite all the “stranger danger” lessons running through her brain, backed up far enough to see into the backstage area.  Three guys stood there, two with a guitar and a bass each and one with drumsticks he was nervously twirling.  The one with the guitar had his face buried in his hands and kept swearing heavily under his breath.  The other two seemed frozen in their own panic as well.  Guitar Player removed his hands from his face and Julie caught a glimpse of worried hazel eyes and dark curls.  Bass Player opened his arms and Guitar Player tumbled into them for a hug while Drum Player rubbed his back.  The three guys looked absolutely wrecked.

Here’s the thing: Julie had an uncontrollable urge to help people.  It’s how she got roped into half of Flynn’s schemes, how she ended up teaching Carlos all of his second grade science curriculum herself, and how she somehow became the unofficial backbone of her family after her mom died.  Seeing three guys utterly wrecked because, presumably, their fourth bandmate had bailed on them?  It activated that uncontrollable urge deep in her stomach.

Here’s another thing: Julie hasn’t played music or sang in six months.  She’s had no desire to, and every time she’s tried, the distinct urge to throw up overtook her.  Tonight was supposed to be the baby step that showed her whether or not music was something she could seriously consider again; whether or not she could feel that itch to perform anymore.

“Hey, do you guys need a fourth?”

She felt the itch.  

The three guys looked up in varying levels of shock.  Drum Player recovered first, and stepped towards her hesitantly, wringing his pink hoodie as he did.

“Um, what?”

“It sounded like someone bailed on you.  I can play.  If you need it.”  Guitar Player recovers next and nearly bounds over to her in barely contained excitement.

“You can play rhythm guitar?”

“No,” the three boys deflate, “I can play piano though.”  Guitar Player tilts his head to the side as though playing a melody through in his head.  He turns back to the other two.

“Bright could fit piano.”

“We never wrote the music for a piano component,” Drum Player wrinkles his nose.

“I did,” Guitar Player admits.  The other two don’t look phased, though Bass Player does raise an eyebrow.  “I was bored!”

“Okay, but we don’t want to put you out,” Drum Player turns back to Julie and she swallows.  

“No, I offered.  Let me see the music.”

“Okay, but you have like ten minutes!” Bass Player finally chips in with a surprisingly cheerful tone.  Guitar Player hands Julie what looks like a piece of notebook paper and her eyes skim the words and notes.  It’s feasible for sure, but she can feel the nerves prickling at her stomach.  Guitar Player leans into her space and she clocks how ridiculously attractive he is up close.  He gives her a smile.

“We alternative verses like this, see?  And I don’t know your range, but we can figure that out on the go.”  Julie gives him a small smile.

“Somewhere between mezzo-soprano and soprano.”

“We can work with that.” Guitar Player seems to vibrate with energy.  “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“No pressure,” Bass Player adds.

“Like seriously, none.  We can just go home and cry,” Drum Player says.  Julie isn’t sure.  She really isn’t.  In fact, she’s pretty sure she should just run away and hope she never sees these guys again.

“I’m sure.”

Well, that’s that.

Guitar Player sends her a smile that looks genuinely like someone has funnelled sunlight into his body and Julie feels the nerves lift for half a second.  Then, they’re called to the stage and all of a sudden she feels like she could puke all over again.  Guitar Player grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“You got this.”

Julie files out with the rest of the band and she’s extremely grateful her friends aren’t sitting in her direct line of sight.  The piano is definitely worn out from use, but her fingers settle naturally on the keys and Julie tries to focus on the budding itch to perform in her stomach rather than the urge to throw up.  She’s supposed to start this song.  This song that she became aware of ten minutes earlier.  She catches Guitar Player’s eye and he nods encouragingly.

She presses down on the keys and opens her mouth. 

Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm calling out

For one more try to feel alive

And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home

Fight through the dark and find the spark