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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #x men x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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spices-and-cherries · 4 years ago

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SFW alphabet for James Bond

As usual, I hope you guys enjoy this one! I have to say that I was more than a bit nervous about writing for James Bond just because of how hardcore the character is. He’s so different than either Benoit or Joe Bang that it’s a bit intimidating. So thank you to everyone who liked the last little headcanon I did for him!

Warnings: mentions of sexual activities and violence

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A= Affectionate (How affectionate are they?)

Due to his job, he really does try to be as affectionate as possible to make up for the lost time. He always has an arm around you or is following you around like some lost puppy. It’s cute at first, but then he starts getting in your way just to be a pest.

B= Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

It probably started like any other of James’ flings with the ever iconic ‘Bond Girls’, but there was something about you that clicked differently. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself, or how you handled things or your constant back-and-forth banter. If you ask James when he fell in love, he wouldn’t know - perhaps when he first set eyes on you?

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He enjoys it from time to time, but he’d rather spend that time doing more rigorous activities if you catch my drift. That being said, he’s more willing to cuddle after an especially harrowing mission.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’d like to eventually. He moves from place to place so much that it’s like he can’t afford to slow down.

While his cleaning is sub-par, his cooking is very good. Luckily, he’s tall enough that he can help you out when it’s time to dust or to grab things off of the upper shelves.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

You’d wake up and he’d just be gone. No note, no nothing. You’d probably figure that he was in a rush for a mission, but after a while, it didn’t seem like that anymore. You’ll eventually put two and two together.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’s married to his job, so thoughts of domesticity are more like post-retirement plans than anything else. If he were to propose, it would be absolutely out of the blue and completely unplanned on his part.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Super gentle and understanding. He’s always very careful as so not to hurt you on accident. While you may not see it, others can tell from the look on James’ face when he’s around you that he would do anything just to see your smile.

He can also be pretty sensitive when it comes to emotions - it comes with his training. He’s figured out the signs and tells and know just what to do to make you feel better.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He won’t admit it, but he likes back hugs a lot. Regular hugs are fine, but back hugs? Ethereal. It feels nice to be a receiver, even if it’s as simple as a hug.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He won’t say it for a long time. He understands the risks his job has, and while at this point he’s too far gone with you, he unconsciously sees the L-word as a promise that he can’t necessarily keep.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Maybe not so much jealous as he is possessive. He finds that someone is getting too close for comfort, he’ll butt into the conversation with some witty remark that will likely embarrass them. Then, James will keep you at his side for the rest of the evening, refusing to let you out of his sight.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sometimes they’re slow and sensual and other times, hungry. Either way, things are going to escalate pretty quickly. The first time you gave him a kiss on the cheek he almost took you right then and there. In all honesty, he’s too horny for casual kisses of affection.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

He doesn’t have much interest in kids and they often find him intimidating. But if one daring one asks for a piggy-back ride the whole lot will be climbing all over him within seconds. He likes to joke that he feels more tired after being around kids than his missions combined.

M= Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

On the rare occasions that you have heart-to-heart talks, he’ll be somewhat more open about himself. He has so many walls up that he doesn’t even know that half of them exist. It’ll probably be after his retirement that he reveals everything (and even then, baby steps).

P= Patience (How easily angered are they?)

With you, he has all the patience in the world (unless you’re being a tease, in which case, watch out).

Q= Quizzes (Who much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

His memory is impeccable in every way. He’ll know things about you that you may not even know of yourself. In your opinion one of the sweetest things he’s ever done was buy a couch that you said you liked months ago and personally carried it to your flat.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Every single time he returns to you after a mission and sees the look of relief, love, and happiness on your face.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Super protective and would rather be killed than to see you stub your toe twice on the same corner. Literally say goodbye to that coffee table, because it won’t be there the next day. He won’t let anything or anyone hurt you - if he can help it - and he will take every precaution to keep you out of enemy sight.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

At first, while they were glamourous, you weren’t getting the feeling that the time you spent together was actually a date. Turns out, when it comes to serious relationships, James has little experience to go off of. It will take him a while to start to understand that going on a date doesn’t always have to be full of diamonds and champagne.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His abysmal communication skills. He’ll just leave and you won’t know if it was to the grocery store or on a mission. You cannot count the amount of times you had leftovers due to him just disappearing. You did bring it up with him at one point, though, and he has tried to be better about it.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

Because of his years on the job, he’s grown to have a certain amount of appreciation for the finer things in life when he has a choice. Why settle for less when he can easily buy the suits he wants to? That aside, he thinks you’re amazing no matter what you wear. If it’s for a fancy dinner party, James will have some fun picking the perfect ensemble for the evening if you’ll let him.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

When he’s on the job, he can’t always afford to think about himself, but when his life is in serious danger, your face always flashes before him. On the rare occasions that he can take a breather, your missing presence becomes much more apparent.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

If and when he can, James will bring back little souvenirs from the places he went during his mission. You now have an interesting assortment of little carved figures, shot glasses, and local candies (to name a few). He tries to get something different or unique every time. Once, someone broke the souvenir James had on him during a chase and sincerely regretted it moments after.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wants someone who can hold their own. He enjoys be able to protect you, but he would be more comfortable knowing that you can fight. James isn’t a big fan of blind followers or yes-men. Think for yourself and be yourself (and have an eye for fashion if you can).

Z= Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

He’s a light sleeper - another thing that comes with the job - and that doesn’t change when he’s around you. In fact, it just might be worse because he won’t know what will happen now that he’s with you. Of course, it’s not all that bad because it gives him the opportunity to memorize your features or gather evidence of your snoring.

I have a couple more things planned for James Bond during the upcoming weekend and some more content for Joe Bang next week! Please feel free to send requests or comment! It’ll make my whole week! :)

- Simpy

#james bond x reader #james bond #x reader #sfw headcanons #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #daniel craig #agent 007 #movie character #casino royale #quantum of solace #spectre #skyfall #established relationship #fluff

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upside-down-uni · 3 years ago

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Hey! Idk if this is too much t9 ask, but could you rec me 2, 19, 20, 45, 55, 63, 69, 71, 72, 75, 86, 104, 111, 116, 131? sorry if it’s a lot but thanks in advance if u can rec me some! :)

Hi, you're in luck! I have an essay to procrastinate on and this ask is just the right thing to distract me! Here you go, I hope you'll find something that you like:

2. a book with a blue cover

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. When i read it for the first time I was just on the brink of going to uni, still figuring out what I even wanted to study and this book just wrapped me in a warm blanket and said "it's going to be okay". I love the main characters Frances and Aled, their arcs and especially the really nice and quiet queer rep in this book.

19. a book that put you in a reading slump

The Knife Of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. When I start a book I generally have the feeling that I can't put it away until I have finished it. With The Knife Of Never Letting Go my problem was that I did want to read it but it didn't fit my mood, so I couldn't bring myself to read it but also beat myself up about not reading it until I put it back onto my shelf. So, I basically pushed myself into a reading slump over this book.

21. a book with a red cover

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers. I enjoyed this book so much but probably not for the reasons most people would think I enjoyed it? The wlw romance was definitely nice and I really liked them being dramatic but also kind of mundane? What really got me though was the strong theme of found family of young adults and queer friendships, that really yanked the yearning hours wide fucking open for me. (I also liked that in the end the book wasn't as much about romance as it was about finding yourself after surrendering yourself to academia for ages and working through your issues.)

45. a book featuring the friends to lovers trope

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. I adore this book. It's so long and there's so much incredible world building and history in it that it made reading an untter delight! Coming in it was a bit hard to acclimate to the slow paste but after a while I just settled in and enjoyed the ride. It's a breathtaking story in a breathtaking universe and afaik there's a second part coming!

55. a book with a satisfying ending

Yolk by Mary H. K. Choi. Yolk doesn't really have an ending in the sense of a "happily ever after" but I really loved where the author chose to leave the characters and how she did it. The book is quite different from what I usually read, tonewise, but especially that ending made me leave the book with a warm feeling. (also the cover is yellow and really really gorgeous)

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

I would've reccd Red White and Royal Blue but judging by your url you've read that already...sooooo, it's Snapdragon by Kat Leyh! Super cute graphic novel, with a weird and adorable storyline and such lovable characters!

69. your favorite mythological retelling

I haven't read a mythological retelling in ages, so basic Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan will have to do.

71. your favorite LGBTQ+ fiction

now that's just rude how am I supposed to choose?? I'll say it's Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire and Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir and Loveless by Alice Oseman. I feel very strongly and very distinctly about all of them, if you can get your hands on them my only comment is READ. (and maybe make sure you're okay with gothic sci-fi horror for Gideon The Ninth)

72. a book with a gorgeous cover

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. It's her adult gothic horror debut after The Miseducation of Cameron Post and not only is the hardcover just stunning in black and red, it also got illustrations inside!! (And all teh women are queer and it's deliciously fucked up!)

75 a book featuring the I'm not like other girls trope

I think the closest I can come to that is The Lady's Guide To Piracy and Petticoats by Mackenzi Lee. The main character has to unlearn a bunch of stuff really fast if she wants to get along with the only other people that will help her. We have road trips in the 16th century, kidnapping and asshole husbands to be, piracy of course and friendship!

86. a book with an insane plot twist

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand. Sawkill Girls was my first touch with horror and I have to say I have no idea whether there was heavy foreshadowing. I think I remember thinking that there was something else to come but when the shit hit the fan I just sat there with big questionmarks over my head because I had read the book in a frenzy in one evening and truly did NOT anticipate it. As someone who did not read horror or thriller before this I have to say I was already insanely confused and disgusted by a bunch of stuff that went down. But then...uh. the thing happened and I was just lost. (In a good way though.)

104. a fluffy sweet read

Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann. It's been a while ever since I read it but it's essentially a cute summer story about Alice who's a disaster bisexual when she sees people she finds cute. Which is a little inconvenient because the new guy at her job is really, really, really extremely cute and she ceases to function around him. There's best friend drama, eating pizza iirc and figuring shit out!

111. a book writing a book

I assume it's either "a book about writing a book" or I am literally supposed to rec a book that is writing a book...I'm going to rec a book that is about books! (because I can.) It's The Girl Who Reads on the Métro by Christine Féret-Fleury and it follows a young woman called Juliette wo gets sucked into an old bookseller's world of life saving, life changing books. A really quiet, really cute book.

116. a book with multiple povs

the Reckless books by Cornelia Funke! Simply divine stroytelling, a vibrant world and amazing characters! I have to say that I only know the German original so I don't know what the English translation might be like.

131. recommend any book you like

um. so knife gang members and people who follow my main, you'll once again be subjected to me being a mess because of lesbian necromancers in space! I've mentioned it before, it lives in my head rent free, it is the one, the only Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir! It's an insane sci-fi horror fantasy blend where Gideon has to play cavalier to Reverend Daughter Harrowhark I-love-being- an-absolute-pain-in-the-ass-to-Gideon Nonagesimus to help her become an uber-necromancer (like Harrow needs motivation to become even more of a nerd and shockingly good at necromancy) for the Necrolord Prime/Undying Emperor. There's BEAUTIFUL WRITING sprinkled with MEMES when you least expect it. There is incredible toxic codependency and repression. There's MURDER. There's fancy necromancy theorems and DUELS. There's enemies to begrudging allies to ??? Staple your socks to your feet or this book will blow them clean off!

#book rec asks #mo answers #thanks for asking!#idk when you sent this ask but it popped up in my inbox just today so here you go!

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years ago

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B2:S - Chapter 4

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be Viren being villainous, Rayla, Claudia, Soren, and Callum, and tons of culture clash themey stuff

and a tw: animal death, Claudia why

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

Viren's scenes in Book Two: Sky are all amazing because they're full of worldbuilding and character building details. I love to study the word choices used from his perspective. They're so tasty. Like how he forced a servant, and also Soren, to carry his messages to the rookery, so that he never had to go himself. I'm really curious why Viren is forcing a servant, whose job is literally to serve, here. He really only has to ask. Maybe he was mean about it on purpose, or maybe he picked a servant who was afraid of birds just to flex on them. Whatever the reason for the word choice, Viren doesn't seem to like servants' jobs, it seems, especially when they take him somewhere with poop on the floor. It makes it all the more ironic that he sweeps Runaan's cell clean himself, then, humbling himself before he finally figures out the mirror.

Viren's secretive, right down to his very carefully chosen words to those around him, but his true thoughts shine through even more clearly in the book than in the show. He knows he's been sneaking and hiding stuff, and he knows that some of those actions would be called treachery. Stealing the king's seal to forge royal documents is up there on the treacherous list, but it's apparently not there alone. Ah, Viren, such a villainous delight. What have you gotten up to?

The way he thinks of and treats Crow Master is ageist and classist, but certain lines also hint that Viren has spent a lot of time memorizing the finer points of proper courtesy, and he expects others to have done the same. There are many reasons someone might put forth such effort: a commoner trying to better himself to be noticed by a kind prince is a nice version. A sociopath learning to fake caring about rich people so he can blend in with them is less nice. Superconveniently, the skills a young, earnest Viren might use to feel worthy of Harrow's attention will serve him just as well when dark magic ravages his empathy and he has to lie to everyone about how dead he is inside in order to keep his position of power. Until he's not lying anymore and he straight up threatens poor Crow Master with death unless he sends illegal mail for him. There's the Viren we know and uhhhhhh

Rayla and the blue rose! It's so fun to see inside her head here. She acted swiftly in the last chapter to save herself from Claudia's sleep spell, but now that she has to lie there, that thorn really hurts! She wishes she maybe had a different plan instead of playing asleep.

I hope Rayla only calls Claudia's voice "awful" because of association. I love Claudia's raspy voice! It's so neat! Rayla immediately recognizes it as Claudia's, from the castle and identifies her as a dark mage, with a clanky-metal warrior beside her. She gets mad at Soren for apparently calling killing a sport, even though that's not what he said at all. Soren's using an unfamiliar, maybe old-fashioned term, and Rayla's taking it very literally. It's like Viren and Runaan are arguing through them. A fun little example of culture clash.

Also digging the fact that Rayla knows what sleeping breathing looks like, as opposed to awake breathing, for the purposes of faking someone out. Did she just. Perch in a tree over Runaan and Ethari as they napped after a picnic and watched them sleep, or did Runaan help her sneak around the Silvergrove to spy on sleeping elves for training purposes? Also, raise your hand if you've faked sleep breathing to fool someone. that's not just me right

Rayla's sass is a constant delight. Whenever she's up against an enemy, she is outwardly fearless and full of witty taunts and comments, and I love her so much. where could she have learned this from I also love that she can't help but flex on Soren about her technique. It seems that her attitude is part "never show fear" and part "humans are liars."

Claudia and Soren were trying to kill Rayla to save the princes from her. But Rayla was also intent on killing both of them right back. And she wasn't ever gonna tell Callum and Ez about that. Woah. First Harrow, now this. That whole "death and secrets" thing really sank in with her, didn't it? Crack voice in the back of my brain: Ethari does know Runaan stabs people, right, he does know that?

Interesting change of detail from show to book: in the show, Claudia overheats Rayla's swords with some green splattery goo from a little glass jar. In the book, uhhh. She grabs a live bird and squishes it to cast the spell. Eew. Really making a point of dark magic's inherent violence today, I see. Got it.

"Rayla, pipe down." Callum still has a ways to go on how to win friends and influence people here. Everyone's shouting, he's interrupted to save Rayla's life (or so he thinks), and when Rayla shouts that his friends tried to kill her, he tells her--and no one else--to pipe down. Followed soon by "but a 'good' elf." Ahgod. He doesn't think he's taking sides, but he's got two humans versus one elf, and he's a human himself, and his underlying biases are showing. He's 14, and he's willing to learn, though--and he really does learn and grow over time. But this version of this scene was just. So. Painfully. Awkward.

I feel like this version was part of a larger theme I'm seeing throughout the first half of the book, emphasizing that Callum comes from years of having a crush on Claudia, and it takes many scenes with Claudia and with Rayla to shift through several gears with each of them in order to facilitate the possibility of breaking with Claudia and then also of falling for Rayla, in a way that feels organic within the structure of the story being told.

Also Callum super has a type and it's Girls Who Will Commit Murder. I don't make the rules.

Rayla's defense just attacks Callum's word choice: "What do you mean, 'but a good elf'? Do you know any bad elves?" And I just. Rayla, honey. You're not in any better of a spot than Callum right now. Your mentor literally stabs people to death. You're both literally assassins. Some humans could accept most elves, but they might draw the line at assassins.

But this tiny clash in the midst of this war, this single exchange of words, is such a great microcosm, the war made personal. It's early enough in their adventure and their growth that they're still sounding a lot like their parents. And that includes Claudia! She demands to know how an elf can be good, and Callum allows that it's possible for good elves to exist, but he has to be the one to say it, not the actual elf behind him. And the actual elf behind him insists that her kind are all good, thank you very much, and implying otherwise skirts very close to "humans are liars."

It's quite a tangle, but having the main characters tangled up like this shows us that as they untangle themselves in their own personal situations, they're learning things about human and elven hearts, about relationships and family, and those things are universal truths which they can use to help them understand other people's troubles, as well as the larger issues involved in the war they're trying to stop.

Callum assessing--and then reassessing--his confidence level. It's adorable, and it serves to show that his first scrambling attempt to make peace, in which he messed up a little but at least no one died--won't be his last. He's not really sure how this is gonna go. Everything is new. But he's dedicated to peace, and he's not giving up. He did just run in between Soren and his target while Soren was holding a sword.

He keeps doing that. Standing in front of people who have their weapons raised in his direction. And he does it with a ridiculous amount of chill. Is this Sarai's influence on him? Considering that Harrow has kept his distance, maybe so! I'd love that.

This chapter ends with some fun relationship drama when Callum gets butterflies in his stomach at being around Claudia again. She tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, and he forgets all about telling her about smashing her primal stone. He instantly worries that Rayla saw her gesture, which of course she did. Callum's nervousness and Rayla's glare feel to me like they're supposed to fit into a tactical box instead of a romantic box, but I can see how it could be interpreted the other way. Callum just intervened in a fight that Rayla completely intended to end by secretly killing Claudia and Soren, so in Rayla's mind, she's probably convinced that Callum intervened to save his girlfriend's life, while he's sure that he just saved Rayla's. She's probably angry because Claudia's gesture is making her think that Callum only seemed to be trying to save Rayla when his true intention was to save Claudia all along.

Dun dun dunnnnnnn.

#b2:s #book two: sky spoilers #book two: sky #tdp spoilers #tw: animal death #soren #tdp claudia #rayla #callum #runaan #ethari #viren #sarai

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ollie-ollie-oxenfreee · 3 years ago

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{{ Fanfic asks! 💖👀📥📝💭🍰👩‍🏭 (I hope that isn't too many! If it is ,just do the first however-many-you're-comfy-with.)

Thank you so much! <3

💖 - What do you like most about your own writing?

I've always been proud of my imagery! A lot of my favorite writers growing up used very vivid, descriptive details and I've worked really hard to emulate that style in my own work. :)

👀 - Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

Oh boy so many

My Google Drive is full of little snippets of writing that will probably never go anywhere but are nice to keep around to reread every now and then. The biggest abandoned WIP that I can think of is probably my Team 69 Friendship Shenanigans fic - I just couldn't get the characterization right and lost my passion for it after a while.

📥- What is your fave fic to receive comments / messages on?

Ooo, this is an interesting question! I would say either remade all the time, made new or kiss with a fist - they were both so fun for me to write, I love seeing readers' reactions to them. I'm always really happy to see comments on then came the morning too - it was a bit of a struggle to write and I almost abandoned it, but I'm proud of the finished work.

📝- What is one growth area you have for your writing?

Definitely plot structure - I am terrible at planning and write almost exclusively spur-of-the-moment stories that end up being a little disorganized and jumbled.

💭 - What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

My favorite headcanon to include in post-canon fics is that Gideon becomes a sort of older sister figure to the kids of whatever base / settlement / village she and Harrow find themselves living on. She doesn't really know how to interact with them at first but they love her. She teaches them to fence (safely, with proper training gear and much gentler encouragement than Aiglamene gave her) and is super proud of all of her students.

🍰 - Name one of your fave comfort fics

@thepipistrellepapers 's Necromantic Grad School AU is a longtime favorite of mine - I regularly reread Like Songbirds in the City Air, it's so bittersweet and lovely

👩‍🏭- If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

Hmm, I'm not sure if any of my fics are super incriminating, but I think the daemon AU might be the darkest / most violent

#asks #thank you so much!#this was really fun to answer

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mopeytropey · 4 years ago

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a beer buds series: chapter 5

newest update available below the cut and on AO3 here :) those of you anticipating more of gay disaster!Lexa should be pleased ...

Timeline: takes place between chapters 4 and 5 of 'apu' after Clarke attempts to host a dinner party only to have Lexa arrive as her only guest

Beer: Sunday Paper IMPERIAL STOUT WITH COFFEE

The smoothness of this beer belies it’s 9.9% ABV. Fresh roasted coffee nose leads into a smooth and rich roasted dark chocolate and coffee flavor with hints of dried black cherries.

ABV 9.9%

Sunday Paper Imperial Stout: Exhibit A (Framingham, MA)

Lexa has settled into the worn comfort of Lincoln’s sofa for all of six minutes before a large, curious ball of grey fur is sitting beside her. The cat blinks up at her with its owlish eyes the color of rust, and Lexa smiles while rubbing behind its ears.

“I still can’t believe you’ve named your cat after my father.”

“Come on! Tell me she doesn’t look exactly like Gus!” Lincoln shouts from the nearby kitchen.

The cat begins to purr at Lexa’s doting touch, and she thinks it enhances the resemblance even further. A docile temperament hidden beneath the imposing stature of her father. Uniform grey coloring gives way to a wide swath of darker fur beneath the cat’s chin, cascading down its chest like an unkempt beard. Lexa smiles again. Gus the cat has a bulky frame but is gentle and affectionate. She thinks the comparison is entirely apt.

“She’s bigger than when I was here last,” Lexa observes as Lincoln enters the room carrying two glasses of dark beer with heavy foam.

“She eats like a horse,” he laughs, setting a drink in front of Lexa before collapsing onto the other end of his couch. “Plus, I’m fairly certain Octavia is spoiling her with extra treats. Cheers, buddy.”

Gus abandons her immediately for the comfort of Lincoln’s lap while Lexa retrieves her glass.

She reaches down the short expanse of sofa cushions to clink her glass against Lincoln’s. “How drunk am I going to be after this one?”

“Imperial stout. 9.9%,” Lincoln smiles. “But, I’ve got lasagna and garlic bread in the oven to compensate.”

“So I’ll be hungover and doubling my running route tomorrow. Thanks a lot.”

“What are friends for?” Lincoln beams. “Hey! We should do 1A down to the island and back—weather is supposed to be super mild tomorrow and I’m done with my meetings by 4:00.”

The route past Clarke’s house.

The new information of Clarke’s residence is like a hot coal buried deep in Lexa’s stomach. The architecture. The pungent smell of the marshes. Seeing Clarke backdropped by her own surroundings had completed so much of the picture Lexa has been composing for months. Everything about the house, and Clarke in it, made sense—from the colors of her open kitchen to the art hung on the walls to the spiral staircase that Clarke practically forbade Lexa to ascend.

She swallows, wondering if the blush she feels on her cheeks will show in the low light of Lincoln’s living room. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“So, how was it on Tuesday? Sorry we bailed.”

Not for the first time, Lexa wonders if Lincoln has somehow infiltrated her inner thoughts based on the timeliness of his ask. The inquiry does nothing to lessen her blush, but Lexa hides further embarrassment behind a large sip of stout.

“You mean showing up for a dinner party to find you’re the only guest in attendance? Not awkward at all, that’s for sure.”

Gus seems to vacillate between the two of them for a moment, finally curling against Lexa’s leg and pushing her paws into Lexa’s thigh when she sinks her hand into thick, soft fur. The sound of Gus’s purring is amplified by Lincoln’s quiet apartment, and Lexa begins to relax with its perpetual hum.

“Yeah, but it’s Clarke,” Lincoln laughs. “I’m sure you guys had fun without us anyway.”

Lexa can’t decide if he’s really so oblivious or playing dumb for her sake, but she looks at him like he’s sprouted a second, immaculately shaved head anyway. She is tempted to recount every movement, and look, and smile, and gesture that she was forced to endure in Clarke’s company that made her feel, in fact, incredibly awkward. And, unsure. Anxious. Elated. Questioning every decision she’d ever made in her life to that point.

But, sure: fun is more succinct.

“We had a nice time.” Lexa smiles into her beer, remembering. “I think I talked a lot.”

“I’m sorry—what?” Lincoln further mocks her by cupping a hand around his ear as if to hear her more clearly.

“You’re such an ass. Why do I even hang out with you?”

“I’ve been grandfathered in,” Lincoln shrugs.

“When we were out on the boat, Clarke shared some things with me—personal things—and it felt like it was time to reciprocate.”

“Her dad?” Lincoln asks in a far more cautious tone. Lexa nods, taking another sip of the dense, dark beer. “The way the girls talk about him, he sounds incredible. A great guy to have lost so soon. O says the Griffins practically raised her. She really loved Jake.”

“I think Clarke’s connection with him was quite strong.”

Lincoln slowly nods through a heavy sigh. “So, how much of the backlog did you offer up in return? How far back into the Brooklyn archives did chatty Lexa venture?”

He’s broken the mood, and Lexa gives him a grateful smile. “Quite a bit, actually. I was also sort of high at the time.” Lincoln almost chokes on a sip of beer as Lexa shrugs. “But, I’m glad I told her. It felt good to talk about it.”

“Yeah.” Lincoln’s dark eyes have taken on a distant quality, and Lexa suspects he may be thinking of Octavia. Perhaps he’s thinking of all the parts of his dark history that he’s been able to share with someone as strong and resilient and unwavering as her. For someone as reticent as Lincoln, it must feel like infinite relief to give that part of himself to someone else. “We beat some shit odds, didn’t we?” he finally says.

Lexa exhales a humorless laugh. “Understatement.”

It had been a childhood of survival for them both. Anya too. But then they found each other, and it started to feel less harrowing, less isolating and alone. Even when they lost track of one another—transported from one family to another, in different boroughs, different schools—Anya taught them to rely on a network of trusted contacts. Information from other kids in the system became the string that kept them tied together.

And then, during that frightening summer when Lexa was thirteen and Anya disappeared, lost to another state—shipped halfway across the country—Lexa wouldn’t let them rest until she and Lincoln found her. It would be another eight months before Anya landed back on New York City asphalt and Lexa could breathe steadily again.

A timer sounding off in the kitchen breaks the atmosphere again, and Lincoln sets his beer down to briskly stand from the couch. “I’m gonna check on the lasagna. You good on beer?”

Lexa eyes him, incredulous. “I’ll be drinking this same beer in an hour. Quit trying to get me drunk.” Her phone buzzes while Lincoln exits, his laughter trailing after him.

Clarke’s name on her phone screen has Lexa shifting around on the couch, setting down her beer and resting her elbows on her knees. That now familiar coil of excitement swirls in her stomach as she opens the message.

Clarke Griffin (6:07PM): new artist featured at the coffee shop has some amazing photography of NY

Clarke Griffin (6:07PM): red hook, I think?

Lexa gives in to the tug at her lips, the way Clarke’s innocuous observation blooms warmth in her chest because of its casual consideration.

Clarke had been thinking of her.

She more often tries to suppress the way her mind wants to calculate just how much Clarke thinks of her. But tonight, she allows it. Even a momentary concession has Lexa biting at her lips to keep her smile from spreading.

(6:08PM): Clarke, please tell me you are not drinking coffee at six pm.

Clarke Griffin (6:08PM): Ok. Lexa, I am not drinking coffee at 6pm.

Lexa is readying her next reply, gently chastising Clarke for her irresponsible caffeine intake for what is likely the hundredth time, when Lincoln’s voice announces his return to the room.

“What’s Costia up to tonight?”

A lurch in her chest has Lexa nearly dropping her phone onto the floor. Mention of Costia while staring at an innocent message from Clarke is like a head-on collision in her brain. She blinks, closing her phone all together and setting it carefully on the table beside her beer.

It shouldn’t feel like an irritant, like vinegar in an open wound, but Lincoln asking after Costia grates the skin at the back of her neck.

Lexa works to remain calm, grinds her jaw, and goes for vague nonchalance. “Boston. Working late.”

“Damn, that sucks. Again?” Lincoln returns to the sofa and stretches his arm along the back cushions. Gus had since wandered off during Lexa’s less-than-scandalous text exchange about photography, but she returns to nuzzle at Lincoln’s calves.

“Par for the course,” Lexa exhales, willing herself to ease the raised hackles she feels along her spine.

Lincoln’s tone is sympathetic. “It’s been happening a lot lately, huh?”

After another sip of beer, Lexa turns into the couch, folding one leg beneath the other. “I’ve lost track, honestly.”

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, but I have a lot of questions.”

Lexa runs her fingers through her hair and stares at the drink held in her right hand. She doesn’t like to think about all the ins and outs and what-ifs of her current relationship, let alone voice her wandering thoughts aloud. But, Lincoln is a good friend—more than that, he is an integral part of her found family. She finishes the last quarter of her pint in two or three gulps.

“I’m probably going to require more beer.”

Lincoln smiles kindly, patting her kneecap before taking the empty glass and standing once again. “More of the same? Or do you want to try something else?”

Lexa stops herself from asking for an entire bottle of whiskey. “What else do you have?”

“Come have a look,” Lincoln offers.

She follows him into a petite kitchen, further dwarfed by Lincoln’s immense stature.

“It smells amazing in here.”

“Should be ready in the next half hour or so,” Lincoln tells her as he swings open the fridge door. There is a low shelf stocked entirely with various cans of beer. “Pick your poison.”

Lexa squats onto her haunches to examine a few of the labels, in the end deciding on an IPA she remembers seeing on the taps at Dockside.

“That’s a good one. Octavia is obsessed with it,” Lincoln tells her as he opens his cabinets for a fresh glass and snaps the tab on the beer can for her. He hands over the new glass of beer before rinsing the can and tossing it into a squat recycling bin beside his trash can.

Lexa rests the small of her back against the edge of his kitchen counters and enjoys her first sip while Gus winds around her ankles and flicks her bushy tail.

“Octavia has good taste.”

“Tell me something I didn’t already know,” Lincoln smirks.

Lexa shakes her head in mock astonishment. “Legitimately. Such an ass.”

His smile transforms to something more genuine as Lincoln props his weight against the counter opposite. “She’s a complete workaholic—never stops thinking about the job, reading up on new techniques, emerging brewers, hop varietals. All of it. The success of that bar is her life. She lives and breathes it, and it shows.”

“But she—” Lexa adjusts the fit of her plaid button down, swallows her uncertainties with another sip of beer, and forces herself to engage in a conversation she has long since ignored. “You two still spend a lot of time together?”

“I think the fact that our mutual interests and careers virtually overlap sort of helps. But, yeah, I think regardless of that, we would still make time for each other.”

Lexa can only nod in response, returning to her beer in lieu of anything profound to say in turn.

“Are you guys able to spend any time together at this point? Costia’s schedule seems heinous.”

“We are. Here and there,” Lexa shrugs. “We went to see an exhibit at the MFA last weekend, which was nice.” Lexa frowns at the floor. “None of this is her fault. She tries.”

“There’s not always someone at fault when things stop working,” Lincoln says, not unkindly.

It doesn’t stop Lexa from grinding her jaw on instinct.

“I moved here for her. If we were to—I don’t even know what I would do if that happened.”

“Lex, you told me months ago that you were moving here to sort things out—not just with Costia, but with yourself, too.”

Lexa nods again and answers softly. “I know.”

“Let me ask you this: if Costia’s schedule were different, if she were able to do what she loved in school while also making more time for you and her, would it make you want to hang out any less with, you know, other people?”

Not so oblivious then.

He doesn’t have to say her name explicitly—the knowing look they share speaks volumes. Lexa looks away and licks her lips, stalling a response as her pulse quickens.

“I don’t know if—”

Her half-formed response is interrupted by Lincoln’s phone ringing on the counter beside him. He grins as he picks up the call.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, Clarke.”

Lexa sips her beer helplessly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as her mind races. He’s answered the call on speaker, and Lexa braces for the distinct rasp of Clarke’s voice.

“Hey, it’s me,” Octavia answers, her voice sharp and distinct in it’s own way, and Lexa relaxes by a fraction.

“Oh! Hey, it’s you. Why are you calling from Clarke’s phone?”

“I can’t fucking find mine. Have you seen it at yours?”

“Uh, no,” Lincoln answers, nevertheless casting his eyes around the kitchen surfaces for any sign of it. “I can look around for it though.”

“We’re actually parked outside—”

“Hi, Lincoln!”

Clarke’s voice pipes through at a distance—as if Octavia hasn’t put the call on speaker but Clarke wanted to be included anyway. Lexa tenses in an instant.

“—on our way to Abby’s for dinner. Do you mind if I run up for a sec?”

“No, of course not. Come on up.”

“Are you sure? I’m not trying to interrupt your bro date with Lexa.”

“Hi, Lexa!”

“Clarke, is it possible for you to have any chill for longer than ninety seconds?” Octavia snaps.

A short and hushed squabble ensues over the next several seconds, likely within the confines of Clarke’s car. Lincoln shares a smile with Lexa across the small expanse of his kitchen as her stomach jumps with nervous energy.

“I’ll be up in a second,” Octavia grumbles.

She’s at the front door a moment later, and Lexa lingers by the kitchen doorway while Lincoln greets her with a brief kiss.

“Hey, Lexa.”

“Hi.” Lexa offers a half wave.

“I’ll be out of here so quickly, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you want help looking?”

“Nah, I’m good. Clarke wants to talk to you anyway.”

This jolts Lexa to a standstill where she had begun to move slowly towards the sofa with Gus at her heels.

“Oh, she—I uh,” Lexa swallows down a fresh set of nerves that Octavia doesn’t seem to notice.

“Babe, can you check the back deck while I look in your bedroom? I was out there this morning for a little while, and I might have left it on one of the chairs.”

“Sure,” Lincoln answers, his arm still slung around Octavia’s waist as he leans down to kiss the top of her head.

They’re both gone from the room in another instant, leaving Lexa standing awkwardly between the front door and the couch where Gus has perched herself atop the back cushions. Lexa hesitates for long seconds, adjusting the rolled sleeves of her shirt while gnawing her lip as the decision to stay or go to Clarke flits irritatingly against her conscience.

Gus observes her solemnly, and she swears it’s the same look her own father pinned on her during that summer she turned sixteen and formed an unwavering desperation to impress Nathalie Rivera, who Lexa did not, irrefutably, have a crush on. Even going so far as to bribe Lincoln into teaching her the Spanish he’d picked up from his new foster mom. Lexa’s determination to get her attention could not be deterred, but she was not romantically interested in any way, Anya’s accusational taunts be damned.

“Don’t give me that look,” Lexa tells the cat as she rests her beer on Lincoln’s coffee table, slips into her shoes, and heads for the door.

She practically sprints (without logical cause) down the flight of interior stairs to the main door, which opens onto a front walk, at the end of which sits Clarke’s silver car. Lexa manages to calm her breathing enough by the time she reaches the driver’s side of the car that she’s not visibly out-of-breath, but her lungs feel constricted nonetheless.

“Hey!” Clarke beams as she slips from the driver’s seat when she notices Lexa approaching.

“Hi.”

Lexa forces her mouth closed to keep from audibly stuttering. Clarke is often dressed at Dockside in an expansive wardrobe that feels like a personal attack on Lexa’s wellbeing. But, something about seeing Clarke in jeans and a warm sweater, looking casually elegant for a dinner with her mother, has Lexa stumbling over basic conversation skills like she hasn’t in years.

“You’re, um, you guys have—” she clears her throat, completely ineffectually, and Clarke very poorly hides her amusement.

“We’re on our way to my mom’s. Raven just got this major promotion so we’re celebrating by letting her cook us dinner.”

Lexa places her hands into her front pockets and smiles at Clarke as if her whole body doesn’t feel like a brittle, shaken leaf.

“You maintain very bizarre friendships.”

“That’s an interesting take coming from one of my best friends.”

“I didn’t know what I was getting into,” Lexa smirks. “Clearly.”

Clarke looks away with a laugh and leans against the side of her car to cross her arms along her stomach. The gold of her necklace pendant glints in the streetlamp above them. She nods towards the house at Lexa’s back when her laughter has subsided.

“Sorry we crashed.” Clarke’s face scrunches prettily with guilt, and Lexa makes the wise decision to avert her eyes with a shrug.

“It’s totally fine. Unavoidable emergency, right?”

“Or, they just devised a pathetic excuse to makeout for a few minutes.”

“Right,” Lexa laughs. She cranes her neck to look back at the house. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left them alone.��

“At this rate, they could be grabbing a quickie.”

It’s now Lexa who is twisting her mouth at Clarke’s overt sexual reference, hiding embarrassment behind disgust. “Clarke, ew.”

It only serves to make Clarke laugh again, and Lexa is forced to look away a second time.

“So what’s up? Did you need something? Or, did you just really miss me?”

“What?” Lexa must look horror-stricken because Clarke is sputtering more laughter. “No, I’m just—Octavia said you wanted to see me.”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I didn’t—” Clarke starts to protest, looking a little unnerved herself before rolling her eyes. “She’s an ass.”

The familiar insult makes Lexa laugh, and Clarke smiles in kind. “She’s well matched then.”

“Lincoln? An ass?” Clarke looks scandalized. “No!”

Lexa shakes her head with a long sigh. “You have no idea.”

A charged moment between them stretches taut, as it so often does, and Lexa is reminded of all the other moments that have preceded it.

Tuesday night spent salvaging a failed dinner party.

A blissful day on the water in Clarke’s boat.

Coffee along the harbor.

Aimless walks about town. Lingering goodbyes.

And, countless other instances in which Lexa must fight this same impulse. She’s not at liberty to admit to such wants, let alone act on them, but the thought of kissing Clarke persists behind a veneer of practiced composure.

Sometimes Lexa thinks that if Clarke were to lean in, make the decision for them both, she would let her.

Clarke is too good a person to make such advances; even hoping for such an outcome is wildly unfair, and Lexa hates herself a little bit for it.

She wears a regretful smile that she presumes Clarke has come to recognize—the way it is reflected back to her as Lexa sighs. “So, I guess I’m going to head back up. Lincoln has promised me twice my weight in carbs.”

“Ooh!” Clarke’s eyes light up as they so often do at the mention of food. “What’s on the menu?”

“Lasagna.” The answer comes from over Lexa’s shoulder, and she turns to see Octavia ambling down the front walk with a small plate and a mouthful of pasta. “And, it’s so, fucking good.”

“Aren’t you two on your way to dinner?”

Octavia shrugs, “Appetizer.”

“I hope you know you’re sharing that with me,” Clarke tells her as Octavia rounds the car and opens the passenger door.

“You’ll have to pry the fork from my cold, dead fingers.”

Clarke scoffs, opening her own door. “As if cutlery has ever stopped me from stealing food off your plate.”

“I’ll see you guys later,” Lexa smiles, taking one or two backwards steps towards the house.

“Later, dude,” Octavia answers before closing herself into the car.

Clarke smiles warmly, her eyes softening even as Lexa creates more distance between them. “Bye.”

Lexa can feel the warmth of Clarke’s gaze at the base of her stomach, swirling lazily. “Bye.”

She ascends Lincoln’s stairs briskly, determined to figure out her emotional baggage sooner rather than later and finally get her life together.

:::

#a beer bud series #apu #a pleasant undoing #brewkru!#clexa fic

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notbigondoors · 4 years ago

Text

{out of equations} I am a little afraid that I’m being misunderstood because of how it appears I am running my blogs. The truth is, I am a shy, derpy potato, and I suspect I’m just coming across in a much different way than I wish to. Below is my attempt to clear some of that up, so that hopefully anyone whom I’ve inadvertently made to feel like I am ignoring them or don’t want to write with them can feel better. Thank you for reading, if you do, and otherwise I hope everyone is having a lovely day. =)

I don’t know if this is actually a thing or not, but it occurs to me that I may be giving people the wrong idea about my blogs. It’s been so for a while that I keep getting compliments on my writing/portrayals, but then so many of my mutuals never interact with me and eventually unfollow, or start threads and drop them after a few replies. Now, people are entitled to lurk, change their minds, become disinterested, lose muse for a thread, and/or decide they don’t like writing with me or feel that my writing doesn’t measure up to theirs once they start. That’s perfectly okay! I’m not mad, I’m not calling anybody out, that’s absolutely okay! Right now, I’m talking to any of my mutuals who feel intimidated by me, feel I don’t want to write with them because I haven’t reached out to them first, or feel like I’m basically telling them they’re not good enough to write with me because I haven’t started something with them. I want to take the time to say how wrong all of that is and to give you an idea of how I really run my blogs.

First of all, real life has not been easy for me lately, as I’m sure it hasn’t been for everyone, given various things going on in the world. Between what’s in the news lately, the pandemic, and a chronic illness of mine coming out of remission after 20-ish years, I am definitely not at my best. I am on many medications for my chronic illness that come with a shopping list of side effects that make me feel physically horrible on a daily basis, but also they cause brain fog. I’m legitimately having trouble remembering things, which means that starter I told you I’d write you and then never did? Yeah, I don’t hate you, and it’s not that I don’t want to write with you, I just have honestly forgotten I even said I would do it. Combine that with my Tumblr notifications not working properly and a large influx of new writers and interactions lately due to WandaVision, and I am really honestly forgetting what I’ve said to whom on here. Side effects of my meds also include insomnia (which I already had, so it’s gotten worse... yay?) which means I’m not getting enough sleep and that’s compounding everything else that’s already making it hard for me to keep everything straight.

In addition to that, I have very bad anxiety, of the kind that interferes with my ability to do everyday things. Social anxiety is a huge facet of my generalized anxiety disorder. Simply put, I am introverted, shy, and terrified of talking to new people, even online. Even messaging with people I know can sometimes drain me mentally. It is not that I dislike you, or that I don’t want to talk to you, or that you are bothering me. None of those are true. I just am not good socially. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do, and I feel so intimidated, especially with so much amazing talent on here. I would like to think that I am a nice and approachable person, but I rarely ever reach out to people. Liking a starter call almost gives me a panic attack. Sometimes I sit and stare at one for an hour, really wanting to do it, but then I think... well I’d have to put my url since all my active rp blogs right now are sides. Would they get mad that I’m not just hitting like? Is that already too complicated and they’d just ignore me? Yeah, they probably wouldn’t want to write with me anyway. Aaaaand I close Tumblr and never like the post, heh.

I see talented writers on here all the time, I read their really great, funny, interesting, harrowing, or exciting threads and think... I wish I could write threads like those. But I just lack the social skills to get involved. My anxiety tells me things that aren’t true all the time, like that I’m extraneous, people have their groups and I should leave them to have fun in peace because I’d only be bothering them. It is not my intention to always make others do all of the work by waiting for them to reach out, or hoping they write that first starter instead of me, or waiting for that indisputable starter call that finally makes me feel comfortable enough that yes, they want to rp with someone like me... it’s just unfortunately where I’m at mentally right now.

Time is also an issue. I work full-time online as a teacher for a university, I have about 160 students, and I have students all around the world in all different time zones, so my job is pretty much 24/7. I am constantly answering student emails, grading assignments, dealing with technical site issues, etc. Sometimes I really want to interact with new writers on here, but I don’t bother because I am afraid that my activity level won’t be what they want or expect. That’s a big reason why I haven’t been expanding my roleplaying to Discord or joining large rpg groups. I can’t guarantee activity. Sometimes I will be very active, sometimes I won’t be active at all... and I won’t always know ahead of time.

Anyway, this is a lot of rambling and I’m sorry for that, but I wanted to clear up any notion that I am aloof, that I am super selective and that’s why I’m not rping with you, or that if I seem to be ignoring you, I am. SO. NOT. TRUE. It’s a combination of my being too afraid to reach out, having health issues that make me very forgetful at times, and feeling like I have to hold back because of scheduling issues or a lack of free time. So... yeah. That’s that. If you’ve gotten this far in reading this post, you are sweet and precious and a wonderful human being. Thank you for taking the time to do so. If I said I would write you a starter and never did, please remind me. I am 99.9% sure the reason is that I just plum forgot. If I appear to have dropped a thread you really loved, please remind me about it. I may not have even seen your reply with Tumblr’s crappy notifications not showing up for me. And if you want to rp with me, I don’t bite, I’m not intimidating, yes I want you to reply to that open starter, yes I want you to randomly tag me in a starter or drop something into my ask box, I am honestly just a scared potato who really cannot Social™ well.

Wanda, Vision, and Pietro are most active right now. Please bother them. I have a leafling OC who is very adorable and versatile, I promise you. Please bother him. I also rp Gizmo. Please bother him.

Bother whoever you like, ask me questions about them, answer open starters (literally any of my blogs you can just search for “open starter” and they’ll all come up), and send in memes.

~ Silence, a.k.a. Si, a.k.a. Shy Derpy Potato, out. (^-^)/

#{ out of equations } ᵒᵒᶜ #{because things aren't adding up}#{and it's just occurred to me that i'm creating the wrong look here}#{with how i run things}#{my apologies... i hope we can start over}

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recurring-polynya · 4 years ago

Note

for the drabble request event: Shunsui/Nanao, "there’s an overnight IT person at school who always answers the phone when i call about a problem with my computer and i totally have a crush on their voice and their exasperation and ALSO the bakery down the street is always running out of my fave scones and the adorable person behind the counter can’t hide their amusement and i think it’s super rude but also super cute AU" (from a prompt list)

So, normally, I am not a fan of Nanao/Shunsui, but I forgot to put it on my list of no-go ships, and as... convoluted as this scenario is, I actually had kind of a way to make it work. I checked with the asker first, and they said it was okay to put Juushirou in it, too. I feel like the point of the prompt list this was from was to have two possible ships in any case, otherwise I don’t understand at all how it would work. Anyway, I tried to make it shippy-but-only-if-you-squint on both sides, I hope it’s okay. I really just wanted to write about IT and scone flavors anyway.

Oh, also, I have no respect for Shunsui, so sorry for that, but at least I had fun.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💻 ☕ 🧁

Professor Kyouraku Shunsui of the Seireitei University Mathematics Department was very pleased with himself. He had timed his arrival at his favorite campus coffee shop for ten minutes before the end of a class period, exactly at the time when the students would be departing for their 10 o’clocks, but the 9 o’clocks had not yet finished. He had been able to score his favorite table, the one next to the front window, so he could watch the foot traffic. He’d laid out his workspace perfectly: laptop front and center; a fresh, fragrant Americano just off to the right, and his little notebook of handwritten instructions to his left. With everything laid out so nicely, he was sure to be very productive. He just needed to remake a few plots for that journal paper. It was only a week overdue at this point, but those editors got so antsy when you just went a smidge over a deadline.

Humming to himself, he ran his finger down the list of procedures as he completed each one. “Amazing!” he exclaimed when a black window popped up on his screen, his own username displayed and a little white cursor cheerfully blinking beside it. “Look at me, a computer genius! I should call my good friend Nanao. I’m sure she would love to hear how well I was able to follow her instructions.”

Shunshui wiggled his fingers, gleefully typed “matlab &” after the prompt, and hit “enter” with a flourish.

Nothing happened.

Shunsui tried again.

Once again, nothing happened.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he frowned, and picked up his phone.

He selected the main campus IT helpline from his contacts, then entered the extension for the math department special helpline, and then he typed in the super-secret extension for the math department special helpline manager.

It rang 9 times. Finally, a clipped voice answered. “Math Department IT Helpline, may I have your name, please?”

“Hellooooooo, Nanaoooooo! It’s meeeeeeee!”

“Your name, please.”

“I’m so hurt, Nanao. It’s your good friend, Shunsui, of course!”

There was a loud clacking of keys from the other end of the line. “And how may I assist you today, Professor Kyouraku?”

“Would you believe it, Nanao, but Matlab won’t open again?”

There was a long silence on the other end, and finally, a dragged out sigh. “What step are you on?”

“I made it all the way to the end of the steps. I even typed in the little ampersand, but nothing! I am all ready to make these figures, and Matlab just doesn’t want to get out of bed, you know?”

“So, you successfully used PuTTY to open a Bash terminal?”

“That’s right, I am very skilled at computers, you know.”

“If you say so. Close it.”

“Close it? But I just got it open!”

“Close it.”

Shunsui sighed. “Goodbye, little friend,” he lamented, hitting the ‘x’. “It is gone.”

“Okay, open PuTTY again. Are you using the saved session I helped you set up last time?”

“Doot doot doot,” Shunsui sang as he double clicked on the PuTTY icon. “There it is! Yes, I am using my saved session, the Shunsui-at-Work one.”

“Great. Select that session and hit ‘load.’”

“I did it.”

“Perfect. Now, over on the menus on the left, expand ‘SSH’ and pick ‘X11’.”

“Ahh, Nanao, what a brilliant person you are to remember all these things!”

“I do this all day, Professor Kyouraku.”

“And you’re so polite, too! You know you can call me Shunsui, though. Yes, here I am, at ‘X11’.”

“There’s a little box that says ‘Enable X11 forwarding, you need to check that.”

“It’s already checked.”

There was a pause. “It is?”

“Yes, there’s a little ‘X’ in it.”

“Oh.”

“We set that up before, I think.”

“I never know with you. Okay, let’s brainstorm. You aren’t part of the cloud computing pilot, are you?”

“I am, actually!”

There was a low muttering, followed by Nanao clearing her throat. “You aren’t trying to launch Matlab from the sentinel node, are you? You use PuTTY to connect to the sentinel, but then you have to manually SSH to your cloud server from there, do you remember?”

“Oh, Nanao, I don’t know what any of those words mean. I am not actually trying to get on the cloud right now, I am just trying to use the department server, does that help?

“Oh, thank God,” Nanao’s beautiful voice muttered.

“I didn’t even know I could use the cloud servers if I wasn’t in my office,” Shunsui mused.

“You can, you just have a different IP you need to-- wait, you’re not in your office?”

“I am in the little coffee shop on the north end of campus. They have the most delightfully lemon ricotta scones--”

“I have been there, the scones are great. Are you connected to the VPN?”

“We should meet here sometime! I love to come here, it’s so relaxing and both the tea and coffee are always so fresh. Do you like matcha?”

“I hate matcha. Are you connected to the VPN?”

“I hate matcha, too! How funny! I just heard from one of my colleagues that they do a really good matcha latte here and I thought--”

“The VPN, man, are you connected to it?”

“Ahhhh.... no. Do I need to be? I thought that was only when I was at home. I’m still on campus.”

“You’re still on campus, but if you’re not in your office, you’re not on the department LAN and you need to connect through the VPN.”

“Ohhhhhhh.”

“Do you know how to connect to the VPN?”

“Ah, I should, I do this when I am working from home. Let’s see, it’s over here on the bottom right…”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Right click… select Cisco…” Shunsui picked up his coffee. “I think my coffee is just about the perfect temperature right now.” He took a sip. It was delicious. “I probably should have had my coffee before I called you, eh?”

There was a muffled thud on the other end of the line.

“Nanao, did you fall? Are you all right? I can come over and help you if you need.”

“It’s fine. Someone, uh, dropped something.”

“The VPN is connected.”

“Fantastic. Just… just go through the steps you did before to get to the Bash terminal. Can you do that? I will just sit here and drink my own coffee.”

“You have your own coffee? Oh, that’s delightful! We’re coffee friends!”

“Just try to start Matlab again, please.”

“Everything just takes so long to connect, you know, once you’re on the VPN. This coffee shop should have better wifi, in my opinion.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“Probably helping you open Matlab again.”

“Ha, ha, oh, Nanao, you’re such a kidder! You know I don’t work on the weekend. I bet you have many exciting hobbies, like going to the theater… or writing poetry…”

There was a long pause. “I’m actually really into historic costume recreation, and a friend and I are going to a millinery workshop.”

“Ah, I knew you were artistic as well as brilliant,” Shunsui sighed, carefully typing in his password once again. “Here we go, Nanao, do you have your fingers crossed for me?”

“I have all my fingers crossed for you.”

“I am typing in ‘matlab ampersand’ again, that should do it, right?”

“Look, the ampersand has nothing to do with the graphical display, it just runs the program as a background process so you can still type things into your terminal.”

“Amazing how you can remember so much! I am hitting ‘enter’ and-- and--”

“What’s happening?!”

“Ah, that beautiful orange saddle surface is here to greet me, once again,” Shunsui sighed as the Matlab logo filled the screen. “You have saved me once again, Nanao. You must allow me to buy you dinner sometime, or at least a coffee.”

“You can tell your department head how much you use the helpdesk, and that I deserve a raise and three more work-study students.”

“I will certainly do that. Have a tremendous day, Nanao!”

“You, too, Professor Kyouraku.”

Shunsui stretched and interlaced his fingers behind his head. All that hard work was exhausting. He’d been so ready to get started, and now his rhythm was off. There was no way he could jump directly into those plots. He stood up and meandered over to the counter.

The cute barista was on duty today. His pale hair was tied up in a casual bun, and the sleeves of his sweater pushed up over his forearms. “Good morning, Professor,” he said with a sunny grin. “Working hard or hardly working?”

“Oh, causing trouble for our IT department, once again,” Shunsui sighed.

“The one you have a crush on? Did you ask for her number?”

“I have her number, I call it every day when I cannot figure out how to use my computer. She has no interest in an old fellow like myself. She is far too good for me, Juushirou! But speaking of things that are too good for me, please tell me that you have one of my favorite scones for me today?”

“Hmm, we just had a big rush at breakfast time,” Juushirou frowned. “I’ll have to go check. Oh, we have a new flavor today!” He leaned forward over the counter and waggled his eyebrows. “Strawberry basil?”

“I am sure they are a delight, but I have had a very harrowing morning, and I need the comfort of the familiar.”

“I understand!” Juushirou shook a finger sternly. “Shunsui’s favorite flavor… Shunsui’s favorite flavor… it’s not orange ginger, he finds those too zingy.... maple bacon, too trendy… the less we say about the matcha scones the better… oh dear, oh dear, it appears the lemon ricotta basket is empty.”

Shunsui flung his arm over his eyes. “I knew I should have ordered one with my coffee! I have been trying to cut calories, but today has been so trying…”

“I’ve got Morning Glory muffins? Or egg white breakfast cups?”

Shunsui made a face. “Thank you, but I think I would rather just go without.”

Juushirou gave off his hearty laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone make such a sad face over scones.” He furrowed his brows. “Those lemon ricotta scones are very popular, you know. We run out of them almost every day.”

“I am a man of discerning taste, Juushirou, who is frequently disappointed.”

“You know what you need?” Juushirou suggested perkily. “A savory scone. Completely different flavor profile. It’ll take your mind right off the lemon. We have cheddar chive? Pancetta sage?”

“Juushirou,” said Shunsui. “I will take a white chocolate blackberry scone.”

“Wonderful choice!” Juushirou agreed, and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Those are my favorites.”

“I know,” Shunsui replied.

#my writing #wacky au requests #please no one at me about whatever i messed up in the IT part #it's been a year since i've had to walk an old man through ssh-ing into a server #you may be wondering why shunsui is a math professor in this #and the answer is that i have known a lot of math professors

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avionvadion · 4 years ago

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(Collapses. I did it guys. IT IS DONE. FIVE DAYS! I think.) Chapter 11, chapter 10 mention, to chapter 17. Story:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115702/chapters/58056064

Chapter 11

"Are you doing well, Irene?" Sango asked, seeing me wince when I sat down. "Does it still hurt?"

"Mostly just my back," I answered truthfully, petting Kirara as she curled in my lap, "but otherwise I'm fine."

Kagome frowned and made her way over. "Let me see." She lifted the back of my shirt up to see the stitches. "They didn't open, which is good. Let me put on some ointment and bandages, that way you can get into the bath and not worry about it getting soaked." She pulled her backpack over and got into her first-aid kit. "I'm surprised you didn't use your Shikigami to heal yourself."

"Frick, I could have, couldn't I?" I exclaimed. I let out a noise, disappointed in myself. "Fun, fun. Well, you guys are already using so much medicine on it- might as well let it heal naturally the rest of the way. Right?"

"That's true." She said. "Still… I don't like how you're always getting injured."

"...I know."

Sango took out a cloth and began to polish her hiraikotsu. "Did something seem weird about those women to you?" She suddenly asked, refusing to look at us. "I have this bad feeling."

Kagome shook her head. "Are you sure it's not just because of Miroku?"

The woman almost dropped her weapon. "Wh-What!? Why bring him up!? That monk has nothing to do with this!" Her face was bright red, the blush all over her cheeks. I stared at her, eyes wide, realizing very quickly that she had a crush on the perverted monk. "I'm just saying something isn't right about these people! They strike me as odd."

"Uh-huh." Kagome clearly didn't believe her. "Sure. I think you're just overreacting Sango. What do you say, Irene?"

"Um…" Frick. How dare she put me in the middle of all this. "I-I'm with Sango on this… sorry. I-I just don't feel…" What was the word for it? Safe. "I dunno. I just don't really trust them?"

"Thank you!" Sango exclaimed. "I'm glad someone is on my side."

Kagome frowned. "That's not fair, Sango. You know I didn't mean it that way..." She pulled my shirt down and stood, walking over to grab the towels Kinu left by the door. "Now- why don't we all calm down by taking a nice relaxing bath? I'm sure it would do us all some good!"

The demon slayer let out a sigh. "I suppose… I'm sorry, Kagome. I shouldn't have snapped."

"Don't worry about it! It's been a rough few days." Kagome looked down at me. "I'll show you what to do in the bath, okay, Irene? You probably aren't used to the ones here in Japan."

I blinked. "Um, okay."

What on earth could be so different about them?

...

As it turned out they were vastly different. Before we could actually get into the bath we had to clean ourselves with a small rag using a cold bucket of water, removing grime and dirt. It reminded me greatly of the public swimming pools back home, though I had only ever went to those when I was little and could actively play around. Towels were allowed, though they couldn't touch the water, and Kagome and Sango tied their hair up.

And the worst part was that we had to bathe together.

I disliked changing in front of others, but that was totally different from being exposed completely. I think the last person who saw me naked was my mother- and that was when I was a little kid and couldn't wash my hair by myself yet. Ick. I feel so gross. I don't like this. Do I have to?

Hot water sounded amazing, but… with others?

Kagome and Sango seemed unbothered by each other's presence and got in the hot spring, relaxing into the water and sighing happily. I hesitated, holding the towel over my form and staring down at the water below. How to do this without revealing myself…? Hmm. Predicaments.

"What's the matter?" Sango asked curiously, seeing the way I was just standing there. "It's only us girls; you don't have to worry about Inuyasha or Miroku walking in. No need to be shy."

"I-I'm not… shy." I awkwardly responded, touching my toe into the water and nearly recoiling at its heat. I was so used to the icy lakes I had been using to clean myself with; it felt so strange against my skin now. The air in the room was so steamy and almost suffocating. "I-I just…"

Kagome blinked, seeming to reach an understanding faster than Sango did as to why I was behaving this way. "Oh, I get it! You're not used to this, are you? Americans do things so differently from us. Want Sango and I to turn away while you get in?"

I looked at her, surprised. "R-Really? Um, please…"

Sango hummed. "Is that what it was? Haha. Don't worry about." She and Kagome turned so their backs were facing me, and with a shaky breath I dropped the towel and slid into the water. "You good?"

Effectively hiding my body from the shoulders down, I let out an informative noise. As they moved and got comfortable, it was then I caught sight of the scar on Sango's back. It was a large, nasty looking piece of flesh. I could only assume it was from the incident… when Kohaku got possessed and killed everyone. Gods, how does she function? She's incredible.

"This is so nice…" Kagome moaned, sinking into the water. "It's been so long."

Seriously? She gets normal baths at home.

Sango just nodded her head. "Agreed. Maybe I was wrong after all… it was so nice of those women to set this up for us."

I remained silent, thinking deeply about everything. This felt so casual, so… normal. It was unnerving. Was it really alright for us to just lounge about in this bath when we could be making our way towards Naraku's castle? What about Maria? Shouldn't there be more that we need to be doing?

"Sometimes you just gotta relax." Kagome commented, stretching her arms out in front of her. "The search for Naraku and the jewels shards can be so harrowing sometimes!"

"...Why don't we talk about something else then?" Sango suggested. "How did your battle with those exams go? Did you defeat them?"

What? Oh my gods, that's adorable. I sat up, looking at the females and fighting a smile. Did she really think exams were demons? I love it.

"Barely." Kagome held her head to side, propping her elbow up on the stone wall and pressing her hand to her cheek. "I studied so much, but then I forgot my notes… my little brother had to deliver them to class for me. It was a nightmare."

"That was nice of him." She said, smiling. "He cares for you. It's something to be grateful for."

"Y-Yeah…" Kagome realized what she said and looked almost guilty, before she quickly turned her head and looked at me. "Anyway! Irene! Tell me; what are things like back where you're from? You're… nineteen, aren't you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

I blinked, sinking back into the water slowly. "No. I don't deal with relationships."

She and Sango both looked shocked. "What, why?"

"Aren't you at least interested in someone?" Sango asked. I shook my head. "How come?"

I shrugged. "I'm just not. You guys are crushing on people though, aren't you?"

"Not me." Sango said, shaking her head. I snorted at that. "What!?"

"Don't you like Miroku?" Her face flared red. Ah, yes. There it is. "Knew it."

"I-I do not like him! I said this before already! A-And if we're talking about who likes who, then what about Kagome? She's clearly in love with Inuyasha!"

"I am not in love with him! I… like him a minimal amount and that's it."

"Suuure."

"Anyway, why are we talking about us? We were talking about you." Kagome exclaimed, facing me. She and Sango were in front of me now, frowning and intent on getting information. What it was, I was uncertain. "Don't you ever want to date someone? Maybe go to the movies or on a walk…?"

I was up to my nose in the water now, attempting to hide from their prying eyes.

"...I like reading stories about it…"

I finally said, lifting my head up out of the water just enough so they could hear me. It was getting a bit harder to breathe in here. I was going to have to get out soon. Still, it felt wonderful to sit in hot water. I missed showers so much. It stung a little at first since it had been a while, but now that my body was adjusted to it my skin was super happy.

"I feel… I feel like being in a relationship would be really stressful." I admitted, recalling all the times the people I spoke to at school had drama with their significant others. Then there were my siblings- who often ended up with abusive people more often than not. Thankfully Maria had landed someone who treated her right after enough trauma, so she was doing pretty good until… well, we were brought here. I don't even think I could handle being in a relationship. "I-I wouldn't… know how to act a-and… I probably wouldn't be able to do half the stuff expected of me."

"Like what?" Sango asked, concerned. "Marriage?"

Marriage often leads to kids. So… yes. That. Kagome's eyes widened. "Oh my god. You've never even been on a date before, have you!?"

"N-No?" Why was I feeling so embarrassed? It was almost as if… I were ashamed of this fact. I wasn't. I was perfectly content being single. So why did I feel so bad about it now? "It's not like I really cared about it before. I turned down anyone who asked."

Sango let out a small gasp, bringing a hand up to her mouth in shock. "So there were people!"

"No! They were all kinda… creepy." I made a face. "I mean, I was flattered but… I just wasn't interested. They weren't my type."

"What's your type then?" Kagome asked, leaning forward and grinning. "Maybe you'll meet someone here!"

Um, no thank you. I scooted away, lifting my arms out of the water and coughing some as I turned around and held onto the side wall. I needed fresh air. It was too hot in here. I can't breathe. My heart rate was starting to pick up, and I was starting to think that being so flustered was making things worse. I avoided conversations like this back in my time, so having it now was really throwing me for a loop. "I-I don't know? Fictional? I can't tell you how many times I had Robin marry Henry from Awakening and Corrin to Subaki in Fates. Gods, I love them. They're so great."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm assuming those are video games. And Irene- those don't count! I'm talking about real people! Flesh and blood!" Kagome exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you like in a guy?"

How does she even know that I'm straight? For all anyone knows I could be bisexual or lesbian. Yeesh. Wait, she's from 1996. A lot of people weren't out and comfortable with their sexuality then, I don't believe… hmm. That explains things. Still, she wasn't wrong. Women were gorgeous, but any crushes I had were on guys. Lame. "Um... I don't know. Lots of sarcasm? I like to banter and joke, so... yeah. Uh… he has to be super smart, too, I guess. Like, this dude has got to be smarter than me."

I really liked people who were intelligent, mainly because I was not. I did not want to deal with another me.

"And..." I remembered some of the people I met back when I was still in school and made a face. "...he better not act like an idiot. Oh, but like- I am an idiot, so he has to be able to tolerate that and my nonsense because I like to talk. A lot. And I can be super slow when it comes to understanding certain stuff, so patience is definitely a thing." My eyebrows knit together at that and leaned my head down against my arms, thinking. This was actually starting to amuse me slightly, imagining a person that couldn't possibly exist. "And, um, he has to be confident, you know? Maybe kinda arrogant, but isn't a jerk about it?"

"Ohh." Kagome giggled. "I see. You like the mature, serious guys."

I choked. I don't know why, but the way she put that had me sputtering like a fool- face completely red. Sango was smiling, amused by all of this. "Y-You make it sound so weird!"

"I think it's cute." Sango said. "It makes sense, too, given your personality."

I slumped my shoulders, chewing on my bottom lip. "My personality…? Is that a bad thing?"

"No. I just mean… oh, how do I put this?" The brunette thought for a moment. "You're really kind, Irene, and you don't really put yourself first. You get along with children really easily because you yourself have a childish part of you. You know when to be serious, but don't know how to act about it. If I have to find a way to describe it, I'd say you prefer a person who's the total opposite of you. Someone who can balance out your recklessness and take charge when needed. A man who... A man who can teach you to be a little selfish from time-to-time, and point out when you're being too selfless."

Ah. Okay. I didn't really agree with the selfless bit, but sure. "That… makes sense." I was surprised they were even taking this so seriously.

My description had been completely hypothetical; no one like that actually existed. They were being ridiculous.

Chapter 10

He caused all of this. My fingers curled into fists and I sat on my knees, glaring at Kagura. She raised an eyebrow at me, intrigued, opening her fan and covering the burnt part of her face. Kohaku's footsteps were heading right at me. He was close. If I didn't do something now I would be brought to Naraku and probably killed, or worse- end up being controlled like Sango's brother. I can't let that happen. I refuse.

Shikigami… A red light shined at my feet and I pushed myself onto my feet, swaying from dizziness. I glared at nothing in the distance, eyes glimmering with rage. ...One more time.

I lifted a hand up, pointing it at the ceiling above Kagura and Kohaku's heads.

ATTACK!

Kagura swung her fan out to the side as soon the fire made contact with the ceiling, rocks crumbling down upon them. "Damn it! So this is what you were plotting!?" Her winds managed to move the rocks just enough to avoid the two of them being crushed, the debris separating us from Kagura and Kohaku as a result. Sango dashed forward, holding her hand out uselessly as she watched them fly away one of the wind sorceress' feathers before they could be completely buried.

"Kohaku!" The female demon slayer cried, eyes red and puffy with tears. Her arm lowered, hand curled against her chest as she lowered her head, voice quiet and shaky. Her lips curled back as she choked down a sob. "No… Kohaku…"

She fell to her knees, bringing her hands to her face. It took all the remaining strength I had to walk over to her, collapsing onto my rear once I was in reach. I was so lightheaded. "S-Sango… are you okay?"

"H-He's gone again…" The woman whispered. "Every time… I fail to stop him. A-And now... Irene, you…"

"...Sorry…"

"No." She shook her head, sniffling and taking a deep breath. Sango raised her head and looked at me. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I… I let you get hurt because of him. There's no excuse. I should be begging you for forgiveness…"

"N-Nothing…" I wheezed, grinning weakly at her. "...to forgive. You… can't fight him. H-He's your brother."

Her eyes widened. She then froze, feeling my arms around her shoulders.

"It's okay… I promise." So please stop crying. I don't like seeing you sad. It hurts. "I'm not mad."

A strangled noise escaped Sango's throat and she wrapped her arms tightly around my back, fingers digging into my kimono, narrowly avoiding my wounds. Her face pressed into my shoulder. She was trembling so badly; I didn't know what to do to make her feel better. So I did the only thing I could and mimicked what Maria did when I was upset, and I ran my fingers lightly up-and-down her back to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," She sobbed, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

Chapter 17

I pulled myself into a room, finding black spots dancing in my vision. It was so dark already because it was night and this was just making it worse. I didn't want to find out if I would end up turning into one of them if they scratched or bit me, or ate me alive, but considering what I just wandered into I had a terrible feeling I was about to find out. Dozens upon dozens of undead were wandering the area, turning to look at me with their misshapen and bloody faces. Mouths gaping open, revealing rotten and missing teeth, with fingers and even arms missing from their bodies. Chunks of flesh were gone.

My heart was about to burst out of my chest, though from fright or asphyxiation I wasn't sure. The cat meowed and stared up at me, watching as I hyperventilated and stumbled back. "I-I can't do this… I-I can't…"

Holy mother of all that is good.

Please no.

I began to choke up. There was nowhere to run; I was completely surrounded by them. It wasn't as if I could just turn back either- there were zombies heading this way from that direction too. I could see them coming from the door. My back pressed against the nearest wall, the sob caught in my throat starting to suffocate me. I was so scared. My friends were gone and my worst nightmare has come to life. I couldn't see any escapes either which meant I was about to be turned into their dinner.

Have you ever had terrible thoughts of being eaten alive? Because I have while growing up, constantly traumatized by horror movies, and they were all coming back to me right now and rushing through my mind, all in the most painful and most agonizing ways.

"S-Somebody…" They were so close. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. "P-Please…" My legs gave out and I sunk to the ground, tears blurring my vision. Their cries were filling my ears, the voices of the dead haunting my being and gradually killing me. It was so bad that blood started to pool from my ears, the tears that fell not quite clear as they became tainted with red.

This was all so stupid.

I came all this way to die by these walking dead samurai, who ironically had died trying to help us, and I never even found my sister. What if her corpse was in this castle- what if she was one of them? I can't stand it. I cradled the mask and the calico cat close to my chest, unable to bring myself to look away as the end drew near. There was no way I would survive this time.

"Make it stop. It hurts. I want to die."

I had gotten so lucky in the past because someone would show up- whether it be Inuyasha or Sango, or even Kagome and Miroku. Kirara was missing and it was just me and a random cat, and I didn't have much energy left to use another Shikigami spell. No one could save me this time. Still…

"I-I don't wanna die…" I whimpered, curling into a ball and hugging the cat protectively. My voice was so small and quiet, absolutely trembling with fear. The tears were streaming down my face, burning my skin and staining it crimson. The zombies were inches away, reaching out with their bare hands ready to tear me into shreds. All dignity was long gone. "S-Somebody…!"

This was it. I was going to die.

“I’m sorry.”

But then the pain never came.

Instead I watched as a sword came out of nowhere, slashing at the backs of the undead, sending them falling to the ground with several loud THUDs. The breath I was holding came out in a strangled sob and I blinked rapidly to clear my vision, eyebrows furrowed as I watched someone I've never seen before slash away at the remaining zombies, not so much as sparing me a glance as he did so. Those that were slain had a strange blue light erupt from their bodies and a whisper filled my ears, the voices gradually quieting and causing the pain in my head to dull.

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theskyexists · 4 years ago

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ive bought harrow the ninth and am now attempting to reread act 1 so that i may understand it better

ianthe clearly proposes that Harrow not get herself killed trying to bring Gideon back - reading it over again. instead to take the future and somehow?? be really powerful together and forget about their cavaliers. but harrow says no

im once again struck with how offhand this book introduces the concept that the empire goes out to deliberately kill planets over a couple of generations

now im not sure....there also seems to be an implication that there’s no aliens - because they say only humanity has a soul - but client planets were said to rebel - i guess the human colonisers rebel against central solar system command sometimes? but then what enemy does the Cohort fight? possibly it’s just bigotry that they think aliens dont have a soul

but like - they find LIVING PLANETS and then - kill them slowly. to the extent that they need to move the entire population. WHAT? why do they do that??? just so they can do some bone tricks???!

what the fuk

so how did the planets get murdered again? and which solar system planets could really have been said to have had enough life to have a soul?? cos like, only one of them is really known for that

why did God give Harrow the choice to go back home TWICE if he was never going to let her?

once again, why mess with the Hand candidates if God was always gonna come for Cytherea? just to mess with him more?

yeah - harrow keeps hearing and saying ortus ninegad but the rest of the world remembers gideon.

Harrow truly is totally mentally shattered AND time is totally fucked up

but sometimes in the fake-ish timeline Harrow remembers but doesn’t remember Gideon - like how she notes that there were two womb-bearing members of the Ninth who were the right age...but only elaborates on herself

for some reason - Harrowhark remembers Ianthe’s arm ripped from her by Cytherea - but now it’s whole. for some reason

that letter is still so what the fuck

‘like you did the last time’ - hm harrowhark sewed Ianthe’s lips shut? how did she come by the power?

is ianthe - calling Harrowhark God?

throughout the first act, they keep referring to time, having too much time, or not mastering time, or not having enough time, ‘this time’ etc.

the eggs you gave me all died - that’s DIRECTED at Harrow, is my theory

ok but the planet revenants come after Lyctors and also God (- God became God when? at the Resurrection) before the Lyctors happened - God was still at Canaan House - despite the Revenants already coming right...

is Teacher criticising god and lyctors for leaving Canaan House lol?

ok so yeah Canaan House WAS part of a ‘last sacrifice’

ok so - Harrowhark is a little resurrection miracle. This implies that God killed a lot to resurrect the Houses.

wow God is being a very dad to Harrow

Blood of Eden - BOE - they turned their back on the solar system. now they hate necromancy. in other words - when the solar system died, God resurrected it - but before that point some humans had fled - lived. and they can see what absolute fuckin horror necromancy is ACTUALLY

so what im getting is...maybe...god resurrected humanity by killing the planets...?

i just realised that Ianthe has taken Gideon’s place as the smartass in the room - the counterweight to Harrow’s portentousness

what the fuck do augustine’s comments to Mercy mean???? why is she unloveable? why would he say that God doesn’t need her? and why is it obscene that Augstine calls God John? What is the dangerous game she’s playing? What was the foul implication??

‘Then that is your downfall’ OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Harrow BURN!!!

what i don’t get is - the Cohort is an army - when they land they die because they’re being killed by an enemy at the front - NOT in pure sacrifice for thanergy. so why does only the death of humans and planets produce thanergy. why is the death of the enemy not good enough? they don’t have fuckin souls?? they MUST be complex life. and doesn’t a planet produce a constant stream of thanergy? but i guess it’s not dying enough - generally its life maintains itself in ecosystems.....unless a fuckin lyctor ‘makes the juice flow’ i guess!

sometime in the next book there IS gonna be a ‘are we the baddies’ meme. muir loves memes and she stuck skulls on absolutely EVERYTHIGN. Like WHY THE FUCK would you colonise planets if you gotta kill them for it? LOL????

huh? augustine just said that they can’t use necromancy when in the river - but mercy mocked harrow for having hypothermia ? implying her fundamental failure was not being able to necro while in the river? Harrow’s inability was what was wrong partly right?? oh no ok it’s how Harrow tried to compensate for her body going lights out while in the river. alright. that was written confusingly

how and why is this a completely different story???

The Sleeper.......is Harrowhark? the suit is too close to what she was wearing killing the asteroid. and the sleeper is lying on ‘something’. oh they just straight up say it lololol

ortus got into trouble 19 years ago...hhmmmmm wasn’t Gideon 19??? huh? which is why Mercy started at Harrow’s peculiar YELLOW eyes that Harrow can’t see herself i think

‘i do things face to face’ ortus says after stabbing harrow. HUH? why go for a stab if decapitating would have done the job? just to give her a small chance to fight back? (face to face?)

why not tell God that ‘his’ attack dog is trying to kill you?

why does Ortus the First want me dead? ‘who?’ ---uh. has she forgotten him completely (time shit) or is she saying the wrong name? mercy wouldnt reply like that then right?

she told him and he’s like - oh well guess you gotta just get through repeated almost-successful attacks on your life. ???? THANKS GOD!!!

‘you, with your unfortunate memory for poetry’ HA! i love how we are reminded that she knew all the fuckin damn books nearly by heart which is insane!

Teacher suggests his dying at least three times a day?? hahaha what?.........................is this purely a meme reference. is that meme the mental image im supposed to have of Teacher??????????? is this trying to say that this meme was preserved in the amalgamation of human life that is Teacher?? oh my god....

no.....palamedus and camilla....did old Harrow really kill them.....

seems like all the murders were consensual maybe?

it’s probably too straightforward that Harrow created and alternate timeline and made for a Harrow Lyctor without Gideon dying and kicked her to the original? maybe she took Ianthe and Coronabeth with her bc she needed Ianthe’s help

is this Cytherea or Dulcinea? Pro seems real this time. why does Dulcie call Pal and Cam strands and cords?

did muir put in a fuckin secondary school S - muir’s just like - im gonna put in all the memes as a nod to ancient human culture

still no idea what the messages are that Harrow is getting

This Harrow is so goddamn sick. I mean she was sick before, but at least she had Gideon. Really do feel that that helped her. now she didn’t have that -- AND she’s getting slapped with trauma another five times

if ortus can undo the thanergy of her own bone then why not simply crumble HARROW into dust? cos there’s a core of thanergy fusion in her that he can’t undo?

FLKJDFKLJSDLFSD fucking IANTHE ‘Wow! Not how I imagined this happening, at all.’ FUCKIN HELL

Harrow with her fucking fucked up dramatic inner monologues about weakness and Ianthe comes in with this shit. she really is doing Gideon proud here.

Did love Harrow’s musings about how only a truly idiotically obedient Cavalier would be the only one to keep to a vow of silence. HAH! nice one muir

‘have you taken the time to rest lately?’ asks God, YOUR FUCKING SAINT IS TRYING TO KILL HER IN THE FUCKING BATH YOU IDIOT AHAHAHAHA

JEZUS FUCKING CHRIST - try and be normal Harrow! try and make some soup and read a book! Harrow: *does and then hyperventilates hidden under her bed after 86 hours of zero sleep*

she was trying to remember what cutlery did. why is this so goddamn funny hahahaa. this book has ONLY been Harrow being in extreme states of misery ALL THE TIME both mentally and physically to the point of death

GOD IS HAPPY THAT SHE MADE SOUP AND DOESNT EVEN FUCKIN NOTICE SHE’S NOT SLEPT FOR A WEEK SOMEHOW THIS IS THE MOST HILARIOUS SHIT

thats what you fucking GET you piece of shit god! you push a prodigy teen to the brink and she fuckin explodes your lyctor and feeds you her fuckin marrow. maybe you shouldn’t have ignored her goddamn fucking understandable distress

SHE FUCKIN HITS HIM WITH THE FUCKIN TRUTH what an IDIOT of a God. he truly doesn’t understand mortality anymore huh

I LOVE HOW MERCYMORN CONTINUES TO MAKE HARROW YOUNGER IN HER HEAD AHAHAHAHAHAHA she’s only nine years old!!!hahahaha

naturally God focuses on how - wait- actually harrow is truly an INSANE necromancer - INSANE

still no idea what the fuck is going on in the not-past

aww. ianthe’s scent soothes harrow now. begrudgingly of course.

i thought this was gonna be lovely angsty harrow/gideon but naturally that did not happen

harrow is comfortable! first time in the whole book! one moment of comfort!!!

‘love my twin, also murder’ tridentarius pffjlfjdljf

‘how i crave your honeyed words’ hah

wow this scene sure is weirdly sexual with these similes lol ‘as though she had shyly undressed for you’ ok there Harrow you about to chop her arm off calm it probably sex repulsed thirsty teen

i do love how....there is this theme again that’s everybody underestimating the main character - who is actually a prodigy. Gideon had that with the sword and Harrow also has it with being a Lyctor now

it’s so telling that these Saints would rather be shits to these babies than help Ianthe grow a new fuckin arm

i dont see why Ianthe can’t work off this bone construct which is her own stuff and put some flesh on it since SHES A FLESH NECRO?

Ianthe that’s super gay

wow muir really never delivers on full gay does she??? i dont mind but i think it’s so striking hahaa

how are Harrow and Ianthe still hung up on the Saint of Duty? i mean, if they dont have him against the RB they’re dead anyway

why is the First going through rain and ice?

Harrow haunted? naawwww

i cant help but like mercymorn though - she cares. it’s soured ages ago but she cares.

awww Harrow needs Ianthe to sleep

Ianthe constantly poking Harrow for her prudishness is so goddamn funny.

‘It’s the type of energy i wish to take into my future’ AHAHAHAHAHAAH IANTHE MY GOD

‘i always forget you were an honest to go nun ... and six years old to boot if you listen to mercymorn’ HAHAHAHAHAHA

‘you look good enough that im proud of my handiwork but not so good that i’ll be consumed with lust and ravish you over the nut bowl’ fpdfjsdfkjsd this is what harrow means with crude japery and yet....

mercymorn has started to call harrow three years old. i will NEVER tire of this gag

all of the blood of eden stuff happened in the past 25 years??? god was on the erebos, but he also remembers ortus kicking the commander out of an airlock? that was in the last 25 years??

Ianthe‘s carressing the nape of Harrow’s neck. hmmhm

its honestly super weird if you think about it for more than 10 seconds that theyre talking about their cavaliers whom they murdered (im still not sure if all consensually) ten thousand years ago (!) and how hot they were that just seems.....fucked up

Harrow is like WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! basically all the time but especially now. yep well that was to be expected i guess lololol

Harrow being painfully frozenly fascinated by (god having) sex and deeply repulsed is very Harrow

oh nooooo well that was a perfect kiss between them really

the funny thing about Harrow is that though she is so completely fucked up - just like Gideon - she is fundamentally a helper.

why wouldn’t Harrow have thought of blood wards! she knew he could only bleed thanergy! it;s the first thing i thought - just use not bone wards then!

ortus thinks anastasia is in Harrow - which makes me think - why does he think that’s possible?

mercymorn now calls Harrow a two-year-old. i am waiting for embryonic genius

so did they use the river to get to the planets theyre killing?

Harrow feels the peace and pleasure of a stroll through nature that she has come to kill

oh my god - Harrow somehow saved Cam and Pal is still attached to the mortal plane!!

Harrow helps Cam risking herself entirely just like that. yknow as she does

i wonder if Pal has realised that Harrow is not who he remembers

i think he realised once he realised haz mat suit was Harrow also...

ianthe xo’d harrow.....lol

im sad that original harrow is definitely dead.... :( loved her. guess gideon’s not coming back either. not sure how the second adept survived. she didn’t survive in the original timeline either. but she was ‘killed’ in the other - just like coronabeth..so that means soemthing

this whole ‘flashback’ stuff to Canaan House is Harrow being in the River the whole time. the cold temperatures, the blood, the creatures theyre fishing from the sea that apparently abominations

after all, we’ve just learned about river bubbles and a haz!harrow that can change their parameters.

all the people ‘dead’ she’d not spoken to much or at all beforehand. like they’re NOT real, in the River. the only one not like that is Dyas...

the fact that the narrative keeps calling Dulcie, Dulcie means she’s really Dulcie.

there’s giant organs falling from the ceiling. this is definitely the river

they talk about time AGAIN

the Body is the devil who let herself be used to complete the work of Teacher and the Lyctors in his mythology....hmm. and when they realised the price (AFTER? the work was done?) they wanted her dead but he buried her....SHE allowed them to become Lyctors?? I still don’t understand why the heck that was necessary

the king is dead, long live the king. hmmmm

Harrow comes onto a hallucination of the devil who was her first crush with the voice of her parental figures and the eyes of a love interest she can no longer remember - which is actually not precisely a hallucination probably - and gets summarily rejected lol OUCH (the Body didn’t mean it that way ofc)

Harrow is so repressed on every single front but definitely sexually

I love Mercy

so there is death beyond death. does everybody go into the river and become a mad horrid ghost? like - is that everybody’s fate? how awful

ok so God DID resurrect the planets also. ? but like. then why are there resurrection beasts?

what does resurrection mean? and who killed the planets in the first place?

BECOMING NONE HOUSE, LEFT GRIEF

oh.....my god.

ARE YOU AND IANTHE BEING SAFE!!?!?!?! HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA

HIS BODYGUARD IS THE DEVIL??

so the destruction of Earth somehow made God? as though it was something that simply followed from it

A.L. was destroyed in the first assault? Of an RB

so the RB’s were happily running off in the other direction until they decided to fuck around and kill their mates to become immortal and powerful - then the RB’s turned around and came towards them - which meant leaving the planets God had resurrected forever.

what the fuck god??? hahahahaa

God always seems so likeable goddamn.

Harrow is such a dramatic bitch. Affection??? JUST KILL ME!!! KILL ME!! LET ME SMASH THE GLASS SO I CAN KNEEL IN IT AND BLEED ALL OVER THE FLOOR!!!!

Harrow goes into her fun kid's game of not dying to traps.

But she instantly calls him father. OH MY GOD

HE DOESNT BELIEVE HER!!!

'then that will be your downfall' - is what Harrow said to Augustine AND IT WILL BECOME TRUE FOR THEM ALL

to be dismissed like that where it hurts most - to have God Dad dismiss her only slip of comfort her only pillar of truth in this crazy old world

'nobody had watched you leave'

SOMEBODY HAD - I love all the deliberate references to Gideon

Temporal lobe!!!! Again the temporal lobe!!!

So why was it again that Harrow refused to be locked in with the Emperor?

So isn't God gonna check out Harrow's temporal lobe? He's just gonna let that mystery go to its death?

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKK

Muir what the fuck??!!!!!!!!

Oh it was.....a hallucination?

Always love how this dips into genuine horror sometimes

What's weird is that Lyctors seem made for the task of going into the river and killing Resurrection Beasts - instead of the other way around.

So say - that the sword somehow holds Gideon's soul (we've just learned that that's possible from Pal and also Ortus trying to get Pent to summon his grandma by his sword) - does it not make sense that Harrow 'for some reason' stabbing Cytherea's corpse with it transferred it to her? Or maybe it's SOMEHOW Anastasia if Ortus was macking on her. But Ortus thought HARROW had/was Anastasia.

IANTHE WANTS TO MARRY HARROW - HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA

Every fucking chapter doesn't make things any clearer. This is worse than Gideon the ninth

Hello???? Am I reading a canon alternate universe roleswap au??? What the FUCK is going on. This is like - if they hadn't gassed the 200 and her parents instead adopted Gideon for her clear necromantic gifts which nobody noticed somehow the other time round

I do love how Aiglamene was the sole source of slight comfort in Gideon's life. And Crux was Harrow's - apparently in any sequence of events.

Harrow is tumbling through timelines. But how can you do that just by messing with the lobe?

WHAT!! WHAT!!!

Is this...is this what I think it is??? Is thi

The fanfic roots are STRONG in this one. In fact I believe I've READ this fanfiction

Harrow's temporal fever dream (in the river?) HAD HER (Decidedly Not) VYING FOR 'HER DIVINE HIGHNESS' hand, which is either the Body or Gideon or both lololol. Seeing as the previous had Gideon as the main unnamed titled character - I bet it's Gideon ahahaaga

A fucking. COFFEESHOP AU. OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDD

We've had roleswap, 'ball' au, and coffee shop au populated by the ghosts of the dead LOLOL,

I knew it!! I knew that they were ghosts and that they were in the river!!

Ok so but when did Harrow shoddily create the bubble? When she adjusted her memories at the start? When is this. Ah Harrow has the same thought hahaa

So the stage is a - she was building her memories while sleeping?

Why is that she cannot access her lyctorhood like this...

I just realised that Harrow's mind made the party food taste like SALT based on Ianthe's cooking!!!! Hahahaha

THE NARRATOR IS GIDEON. But it doesn't sound like Gideon though

There's more to the work than simply preserving Gideon's soul though. There are next steps that Harrow prepared for that Harrow doesn't know about yet

Who was the sleeper and why was it in Harrows riverscape of memories that she ACCIDENTALLY??? made

Ok she sounds like Gideon NOW

Gideon no it's not because she didn't want you! It's because she wanted you to live!!!!!

And she succeeded....your soul is INTACT in her body!!!! You're protecting her with full consciousness!! How the fuck. And why didn't that happen before when she went to the bubble?

Are the ghosts of the contestants happy that they got pulled out of the River briefly? Or were they so briefly in there they couldn't remember?

She returned them to the RIVER???? is that really such a kind fate????

Something has gone wrong in the River - yeah because why r all these ghosts going insane and stoppering it up like slib

Do love how Muir has found a way to give these characters more screentime

I actually said 'oof' when Harrow screamed at Ortus - oof that really is embarrassing. GodDAMN Ortus you stepping up with the emotional support!

I've EVEN read the damn fanfic in which they switched bodies. My god.

A. L. apparently is thought to wander about still. I think she's the body....I do believe she's the body. That's why the Lyctors are scared of her

She thought - what. Mercy is talking about blood of Eden's commander. What is going onnnnn still!!!! Mercy is the traitor I guess. But how is blood of Eden connected to the ninth house and the body?

Why is Mercy awake on the mithraeum and not in the River anyways?

Gideon.... And the commander were in cahoots? So did A. L. and Anastasia an the body and the commander all have the same eyes?????

What the fuck is going on indeed.

Cytherea seems to have had a plan B for getting revenge on the Emperor. Or something had a plan B with her corpse as the main weapon.

If guns are so effective against people why aren't they still used.

The messages are from the commander. I.e. Gideon's mother. I.e. Anastasia? We never explicitly did learn how she met her end no? Gideon was convinced that Anastasia had taken the baby. It just seems incongruous how the Emperor spent like 80 years on the Erebos and the Lyctors were faffing about - meanwhile there was this drama going on in the last half century?

I love Abigail Pent. Love that I got to see more of her.

I'd honestly forgot that Judith was alive by the end of all of that shit

The sleeper is -the sleeper is Gideon's mother. Also. She's haunted by her mother. SOMEHOW. what the fuck? They couldn't drag her spirit back from the river they said!

'you wizards never learn' there's a whole modern regular sci fi world and culture out there! Or maybe it's just a. L.

Is it? Or is it Anastasia? Or is it the commander? Or are they the same thing?

The sleeper wants Harrow's body. Somehow invaded it - probably from the river? - which means its Anastasia or the commander. Which means that whatevers possessing Cytherea is someone else.

In retrospect - Harrow's coldness to Ianthe talking about - to what her - seemed nonsense at the time - in the very first part - doesn't quite fit.

Oh my fucking GOD Gideon is fighting Ianthe for messing around with her fucking girlfriend - who is HARROW, who actually, Ianthe wants to marry.

They just went from ramping up to a serious fight to Gideon dropping Corona's name and suddenly they're like - ah we got more important priorities actually.

Augustine's first thought at thinking a.l./the body (?) is in Harrow is John - and the Second is Joy!(mercy?)

'How I was gonna have to take showers with all your clothes on.' fuckin Gideon hahahaha

Wonder if Ianthe truly believes what she's saying - that Harrow was trying to rid hersel of Gideon. It's preposterous. It's just hurtful talk.

GIDEON REALLY THOUGHT THAT LOOK TO MEAN THAT HARROW DIDNT LOVE HER??? THIS IS A CONSTANT BARRAGE OF ALL THE ANGSTY DRAMATIC SHIT IVE BEEN YEARNING FOR

Oh my fucking god Gideon calling Ianthe out for being in love with Harrow in the most iconic way ufsojdjdodnd 'she wants the D - the D stands for dead'

Crazy brain-mutilated Harrow sure made it seem that way I can tell ya that!!

Hahahahahaha Ianthe remembering Harrows prudish Ortus/Cytherea shit. Amazing

Aw Gideon really went and fell right into the cavalier/bone mistress shit huh. And trying to shield Harrow - well as noted before - very necessary because harrow has been having a godawful miserable time - mostly because of herself.

Gideon appreciating Ianthe's pun xD

Love how neither of them position themselves as the love of Harrows life but instead as inexorably attached to her by the sheer role they play in her life - they don't dare aspire to what they think they can't get.

Muir realises this is gonna end up as a Gideon/Harrow(/theBody)/Ianthe ship right?

Oh WOW THIS IS AMAZING. nonius the legendary nonius!!! Come to protect Harrow!!!

For some reason the Sleeper can manipulate the rules of this River bubble and doesn't seem surprised about it

If all her cavaliers were this excited for death, she was definitely the problem.lololol. somehow Harrow, you inspired undying loyalty in even a person that you treated abominably

Yeah Harrow you slowpoke. If the Sleeper can adjust the rules - so can you

If the sleeper was not Harrow's invention - but planted itself - then they're very lucky it got to the ghosts that weren't actually there - first.

So it was the commander....a portrait in a shuttle of blood of eden - can only be the commander. And redhaired? There are too many red haired people in this book!!

It's nice how all these ghosts got to have lasting impact from beyond the grave

NONIUS KNEW ORTUS/GIDEON?

Ok so ....there's the bed of the River with stoma. But there might also be the other side.

Did Harrow really not account for steps beyond her plan to mutilate her brain?

Is this book really gonna go: fuck you Gideon will die anyway ?????

But.wait. the sleeper had a two-hander. Where did that go???

I don't get it. If they go into the river - won't they also go insane?

SO NYAH!!!!!???

Ok but - what? The Commander ALSO -somehow - took over Cytherea's body?

'did the ten billion give you that too' I KNEW CANAAN HOUSE HELD EVEN GRUESOMER EXPERIMENTS AND SACRIFICES THAN LYCTORHOOD. God is made of ten billion souls. I think they killed humanity on earth to spare it 'slow inexorable apocalypse' and used the power to make the Empire from the resurrected. There was an extremely vague implication by Teacher to the amount of souls violated in Canaan house in the first book.

So God knows the commander went for the ninth house? Firstly, how. I don't understand how Anastasia fits in here!!! It would explain though how the commander

So the commander found the ninth house - and she died right? They tried to call her spirit but couldn't. But she became a revenant?

Ah. God THREW the bomb.

A fuckin wake me up inside joke jskdjskdnd

So Mercy and Augustine ( not Gideon ?) had all turned against God? And they were working with the commander to -... Make a baby????? And then evacuate the houses???? (For when God dies - there being a risk that Dominicus would go out I guess)

Make a baby/body to lever the one who lies in the tomb into....?

Love how the book foreshadowed Mercy and Augustine manipulating and lying to God - and turns out they did that on much bigger scale

They....meant to kill the baby to break the blood ward?

'The woman who I was pretty sure was my mother, wearing the body of the woman I'd had a crush on, who in turn had been wearing the identity of a woman she'd murdered -' KSNFKDJDKFJJFC

So why did they want this consistently characterised as kindly and humane god dead?

GIDEON THOUGHT IT WAS HIS!!!! But he called Wake Anastasia then????

They really are the same???

Oh my god I know what they're gonna say. Gideon is the daughter of God. WHICH HARROWS FUCKIN ROYALTY AU FEVER RIVER DREAM FUCKING FORESHADOWED HAAHAHAHAHHAA

Isn't it fucking ironic that God told Harrow that - HE WANTED HER TO BE HIS??? WHILE GIDEON HIS ACTUAL DAUGHTER WAS SPINNING INSIDE HER CHEST LIKE A LITTLE NUCLEAR FUSION REACTOR

They've been trying to kill him for more than 500 years???? Did mercymorn actually genuinely learn the extremely fine knowledge of the body for THIS purpose? How many thousands of years ago did they decide to kill god?

A fucking DAD JOKE

GIDEON REMEMBERING HOW SHE USED TO TELL HARROW HOW HER OTHER PARENT MIGHT BE THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE WORLD SO STOP PICKING ON HER

I am fucking DELIGHTED I AM SO GODDAMN OVERJOYED

It segues into a reminder of how shit their childhoods were and how their suffering had them lash out at each other endlessly and how it made Harrow suicidal and shit though - which is great

ALECTO'S EYES. THE A. FOR A. L.

A. L. The cavalier of God....but she walked. She had a body.

Ohhhhh. That's why they betrayed him. That age-old hurt. Ten thousand years old but still the bane of their existence, the seed of their madnesses. The loss of their cavaliers. Oh how did they manage to keep that from him?

I honestly thought - is Mercy saying she knows he killed humanity? But that's not what she couldn't have forgiven?

But why did he hide it? Why did he hide the perfect way? ('it would be easier' why???)

Ah. Yes. The expansion, why would the Emperor do that?

Uhhhhh. Couldn't Mercy have done that all along??????????????????????? Couldn't Mercy have killed God all along? That was both a trick and utterly sincere.

Augustine and Mercy were trying to do the right thing..... Mercy.... :'( Augustine was right. God is much less sentimental than he seems.

'im not even mad that you failed to either fix or put down Harrow' hm guess the constant kill quest HAD come from God after all. What a goddamn bitch of a man

What was the original plan? Unleash a. L. ? And then what? How would that help with the whole Dominicus going out problem?

Had God ever really thought to make up for all the bullshit he put his Lyctors through. He seems so affable and human but he's caused so much suffering. He's as good at manipulation at them - better!

The resurrection beast can't kill him, but he let his Lyctors die to them one by one anyway. So why??

Why are they punching each other in the River? They can use theorems right? God could blast Augustine to pieces same he did mercy?

Yes! It's true! Pyrrha and Gideon both exist in the same body - foreshadowed by his cavaliers build. There was something so fishy about it.

I love how Gideon has exactly the same response as me: what the fuck. Pyrrha??? Gideon??? What the fuck??? Why did they BOTH have an affair with their enemy??? So ok. Pyrrha stayed underground from Everybody for the thousand years. SOMEHOW their compartmentalisation let her pop up in his body regularly and not just when Gideon remembered her - because the hadn't fucked up his brain. But then how did THEY do that.

This absolutely galactic balsiness

The stoma thinks John is a resurrection beast. Might it be.....because he's..... A revenant. A 10 billion souled kinda- revenant ? A bit like.....Harrow is? Which is why he felt kin to her? Which is why he compared her creation to Resurrection?????I've really gotta reread those messages from commander wake.

A fucking jail for mother meme. Jail for one thousand years. Gideon how do you know this one????

I KNEW Ianthe would do that. Knew it. She doesn't want the system to die. Coronabeth is still out there. Well guess what - she's on the opposite side babe. Ok I realised that Gideon's mum apparently stuck to Gideon and then the sword? But also did Harrow manage to break the blood ward because of of her proximity to Gideon? Did Harrow uhhhh get put into a pocket in the river? But the emperor wasn't murdered!!! Fuckin chapters kept lying. They're on a hold planet. Finally - we meet the people. Alecto and Camilla and Corona? And Judith.? Did Alecto somehow do a time twisty around to come save Gideon at that moment in the river? Once again nothing much more is clear.

#my stuff #harrow the ninth #gtn #ninth

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not-looking-for-happy · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Equation: Chapter 10 - Recruit Number 2 and 3

Summary: Grei and Professor Wallace are closely observing recruit #2. Meanwhile, Five and Hazel time-travels to get recruit #3.

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Click here for the entire work.

Story is also now available in Wattpad.

Two days have passed after Five requested Hazel’s aid in destroying the Commissions. Within these days, Grei and the professor had been doing nothing but taking turns on watching over their ‘Recruit Number 2’.

From going to school, going to the grocery, dumping the garbage, and playing hero outside the boy’s garden, Grei and Professor Wallace would interchangeably observe him secretly. Fortunately, for the past two days of their observation, the boy has been quite reserved, never looking out for trouble and always positively looking at things.

No matter how much painful words and harrowing treatment he would receive from his father every single day, the boy would still sit contentedly at his room as he reads the comic books he purchased behind his father’s back. Careful not to make suspicious sounds that might lead to his father discovering his little comic stash, he would silently smile and giggle from time to time.

“Hasn’t he been reading that comic book too many times in just a few spans of days now? Wouldn’t it be better if he reads another issue?” asked the old man as he whispers to his daughter beside him.

“Can’t blame him for being a fan now, can we? Besides, it’s not like his father would gladly buy him some stuff.”

“Poor kid. He’s kind deep down inside, it’s no wonder he ended up like that in the future,” the old man replied, sniffing his nose.

“That’s why we’re here, aren’t we? To stop him from going sideways. And besides, what are you still doing here? I thought we already agreed to take turns in observing Harold?” Grei stated while frowning vehemently at her father.

“Oh, come on now! It’s not like we’ll get caught. Is it so wrong for a father to spend some quality moments with his daughter?”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘quality moment’ but, fine. Suit yourself.”

Knowing how stubborn her father is, she decides to sit silently on her seat. Compared to observing Harold alone where she has to find hidden spots so as not to get caught, waiting inside a car is way better and more comfortable. Add the fact that his father likes to dote on her whenever he has the chance to. Besides, once the Hargreeves siblings will be sent back to the current timeline, she as well would have no chance to meet his father more often at all.

“I’d say, this young kid has a strong spirit. Look at him being happy despite everything he’s going through. His mother’s gone and his father, well…” Professor paused for a moment to try to find the right words to describe Harold’s father.

“He’s an a**hole. That’s all he is,” Grei responded. “Look at him, he’s pathetic. He’s not taking care of his only son. It’s not even the boy’s fault that his mother died.

“Language!”

“Can’t be helped. It’s the best word to describe him.”

“You seem to be very angry at his father,” Professor Wallace mentioned as he notices the sudden change in Grei’s expression.

“He’s just too horrible. How can a father do something like that to his son? I’m not even surprised anymore that Harold killed him.”

“It can’t be helped. We’re in a world where we can’t choose our parents.”

“I guess I got lucky then. My biological parents abandoned me but I was chosen by you.”

Professor Wallace gasps in his seat, unable to utter a single word on what he just heard.

“Hello? You still there?”

“I thought for a second that this was all a dream,” Professor responded, still surprised.

“You said you want ‘quality moments’, now I’m giving you one,” Grei said teasingly.

“Yes, I’d really like that.”

The next few hours went by without the two of them noticing. It was already dark when Harold steps outside his house, a trash bag clutched on his hands as he walks slowly towards the nearest dump near an alleyway across their house.

Grei is struggling internally for the past few days that she’s been observing Harold. Not only would his father neglect him, but he would also recklessly hit him on his drunken stupor. At times, observing the kid becomes too painful that she has to close her eyes and listen to his cries at night.

Regardless, at this point, she has to remain an outsider. It is not yet the time to let the boy know that someone’s constantly watching over him. She wanted to hug him, to comfort him, and let him know that he did not deserve any of those bad things to happen. Sadly, for now, all she could do is watch.

Please bear with it for a little longer. In a short while, you’ll get to wake up from this never-ending nightmare.

*******

Meanwhile, at the professor’s mansion house, Five and Hazel are both cooped up. For Hazel, he felt like he luckily got a VIP pass. He’s now sitting right in front of the person idolized by many agents in the temps. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but every time Five would successfully escape him and her partner’s grasp in the past, he would think to himself that he is indeed a legend.

Back when he’s still working for the Commissions, he would hear rumors about Five and his accomplishments within the organization. Not to brag but Hazel himself thinks he is one of the top agents and to hear someone who started later than he complete so many missions splendidly ticks him off.

“I bet those are just exaggerated rumors. Survivor of the apocalypse? Can time-travel without the briefcase? Must be nice not to be bringing around this heavy briefcase with you all the time,” Hazel grumbled while listening to Cha-Cha’s story about Five.

“I’m telling you, these are not just rumors. They’re written reports I read because I got curious,” Cha-Cha replied at his partner who seems to take her words like total crap.

Hazel could not believe the rest of Cha-Cha’s statements. And just like her, he got curious too. And for the first time since joining the Commissions, he would secretly drop by at the case files room just so he could read every written report there is about Five, an action he has never done before. So, if there is anyone among the organization who knows every detail of Five’s missions, it’s him. Needless to say, he won’t tell Five that he is secretly 'fanboys’ behind his back.

Hazel’s thoughts are completely disrupted when he felt Five’s gaze.

“Are you okay? Do you still have any questions?” Five asked.

“Nope, none at all,” he replied, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Fortunately for Hazel, Five is not good at reading people’s thoughts by simply looking at their expressions. Also, he once told Five that he’s his fan in a lighter tone, which by the way is a lie because he’s not just a fan, he’s a super fan. But knowing the tiny old man’s personality, he’ll probably be creeped out. This is a secret he’ll bury together with him in his grave. For now, assisting Five in stopping the organization and saving the world is enough for him.

“Let’s go. There’s no time to waste,” Five said as he urges Hazel to move closer towards the briefcase he’s holding in his right hand.

A blue light disappears as soon as it appears. On that night, the two men, set on a mission disappeared on that timeline in the blink of an eye.

*******

It’s a feeling very familiar with Hazel, and yet, it’s still nostalgic. It’s been three years since he time-traveled and to be doing it once again left an exhilarating feeling inside him. Not to mention, his partner is now Five and they won’t be killing but saving someone, which is a bonus.

“February 1, 1968. A Shau valley, 3 AM,” Five said to remind the two of them of the time and place where they time-traveled.

“This is one hell of a place to be.”

“I know. But this is better than having no place at all,” Five whispered to himself as he walks towards a nearby encampment.

“Do you know his face? That Recruit number 3 guy?” Hazel asked as he follows Five.

“Nope. All I know is the complete name. Klaus told me,” Five replied. “Which is why we arrived earlier to identify him. There are thousands of soldiers here. We need to know his exact location before the ceasefire ends. We wouldn’t want to be riddled with bullets and dying in the wrong timeline.”

“What shall we do now?”

“We need a place to hide, a meeting place. I’ll be looking for Dave. We could search together but two persons jumping on tents early this morning might cause a raucous.”

As soon as Hazel and Five agreed on an assembly point, Five vanishes instantly. Hazel sits silently in the dark while carefully observing the situation. They chose the assembly point a few meters away from the soldiers’ camp on top of a hill so Hazel could have more or less an idea where Five is going to.

It’s quite a sight. Seeing a tiny flicker from afar blink from tents after tents. In some tents, Five would be spending quite some time and for others, he would be gone in just a few seconds. One might expect that this would be a boring job for Hazel, but it’s not. For the first time in his life, he’s thankful he became part of the Commissions. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been recruited by Five and guarding the briefcase that the professor owns which will play a major role in this mission.

Ugh, should have bought some doughnuts.

After three hours of non-stop searching, Five manages to identify Dave’s location. Additionally, he manages to find food rations and coffee for both of them.

“Finally found him, but I haven’t talked to him yet. Seeing a kid in this place might surprise him,” Five presumed. He sits beside Hazel. “I brought us some food as well.”

“Got it,” Hazel responded.

Hazel and Five have a precise, if not exact, idea of the time in which Dave will die. The mission will be to stop it happening seconds before it happened. In this mission, failure is definitely not an option.

Time goes by while they wait patiently. Surprisingly, Five is telling Hazel instances of his previous missions that are not written in reports. Hazel was all ears, silently wishing that he had brought pen and paper with him. Maybe, due to the atmosphere, Five is reminiscing the good old days back when he’s still working for the organization.

Their conversation was discontinued when they heard gunshots from a distant location.

“It’s time,” Five spoke. “Let’s go.”

Five blinked himself and Hazel in a nearby tent. They remained hidden for a few moments. Gunshots and loud voices coming from every direction can be heard. Being veteran agents in the Commissions, both Five and Hazel are pretty calm while observing the situations unfolding before their eyes. The two of them are well-hidden. Most probably, Five also looked for places where they could conveniently hide.

As expected, this guy's a legend.

Five was silently looking at his wristwatch, precisely calculating the time to execute the mission and calibrating the briefcase while Hazel is covering for him to make sure no one has taken notice of them. In this chaos, being able to think accurately is a must. As mentioned before, failure is not an option.

The situation, however, doesn’t seem to faze him. It’s like Five is in a different dimension right now, surrounded by equations necessary to do what has to be done. And then, he raised his head, gazes towards Hazel signaling him that the time has come. He gently tapped Five’s shoulder and the two of them vanished at the same time.

What Hazel witnessed is a scenery he has never witnessed before. The professor and Five already explained to him what the briefcase can do other than time-travel but seeing it in practice did not stop him from being amazed. Contrary to what is expected, no sounds are being heard. The bullets flying in every direction are suspended mid-air. All the soldiers who are vigorously moving about the field stopped moving completely.

Five, on the other hand, is not even astounded of what has occurred.

“Right on time. I’d say, perfect,” Five said to himself as he saw Dave crouched on the elevated ground.

Hazel followed suit while he commits every detail of this scenery in his memory.

Dave stands slowly, unable to follow what has occurred. However, there is one thing he is sure of, that whatever’s happening in this instant has something to do with the two figures who suddenly appeared behind him.

“Who are you? What have you done? You've caused this, right?” Dave asked, his hands tightly holding his gun.

“I’d like to discuss the actual calculations but you wouldn’t understand it, so let’s just say that we literally stopped time,” Five replied nonchalantly.

“Look around you, everything stopped moving. Well, except for the three of us,” Hazel added.

“What do you want from me, then?”

“While it’s good that we are progressing quickly with the conversation, let’s change locations, shall we? It’s not like we can stop time endlessly.”

“Sorry, pal. Let me touch your shoulder a bit,” Hazel said as he approaches Dave whose still on guard. ”Drop the gun, please. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Hurry up, we don’t have the time.”

Seeing that Five is already annoyed, Dave decides to drop the gun and let Hazel touch his shoulder. Right about now, agreeing to go with these two people is a better option than dying. As soon as he did, there was a sharp pain delivered across his entire body, like thousand needles punctured onto him all at the same time. And as he opens his eyes, the dark valley turned into a well-lit room, with books all around it, a table and some chairs, and finally, the two figures he met in Vietnam are still with him.

“What just happened?” Dave asked as he endures the discomfort he’s feeling. “Hi, I’m Five. I'm a 52-year old man trapped in a 13-year old body. And this is Hazel,” Five explained while gesturing towards Hazel. “I’m your lover’s brother, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hazel, can you do the honor?” Five requested, seeing that this will be a long conversation. “I’m gonna go and get some coffee.”

Five exits the room silently. Dave and Hazel are left in the room as they stare awkwardly at each other.

“Before everything else, why don’t we take a sit? I’ll tell you everything.”

Luckily for Five, Hazel seems to do everything he told him to without questions being asked. Not to mention, he’s really bad at this “explain-the-whole-situation” thing. To make it up to him, Five decides to go outside the mansion house to buy some doughnuts. He noticed how Hazel loves doughnuts, especially at the Griddy’s. Before leaving, he left the pot of coffee and two cups outside the office, knocks gently at the door, and disappears.

Five was gone for two hours. Before he could go back to the mansion, he decides to drop by at the academy without anyone noticing. Vanya is having combat training with Allison and Luther in the basement, an essential training their father didn't bother teaching her because she won't be part of any missions. Klaus, Diego, and Ben are having a conversation at Diego’s room about his knives. Upon seeing that his siblings seem to be doing good, he walks silently towards Klaus’s room and left a note. Without letting anyone notice him, he vanished into thin air.

*******

By the time Five enters the professor’s office once again, Dave and Hazel are still talking. This time though, Dave seems to be more comfortable with his surroundings now.

“You’ve been gone for hours. What took you so long?” Hazel asked as soon as he notices Five entering the room.

“I bought you these,” Five replied while carrying a paper bag on his hand.

When Hazel realizes what Five has brought, he immediately seizes the paper bag and digs his hand inside.

“This guy's pretty easy to talk to. He caught up with everything quickly. As expected of a soldier, I guess. Want some?” Hazel offers to Dave as he pulls a piece of doughnut from the paper bag.

Dave simply nods and accepts the doughnut given by Hazel. The two of them eat silently while Five is drinking his coffee.

“So,” Dave started. “Your name is Five, right? About you being my lover’s brother, is that true? Will she be my girlfriend in the future?”

“Technically, it’s all in the past now. It’s been undone. And I included you in this mission so you and my brother can meet again. His name is Klaus, by the way.”

“Brother?”

“Yes, brother. He’s a dude,” Hazel butted in, his voice muffled by the doughnut he’s eating.

“Oh.”

It is the only word Dave could utter. Probably, he already had a slight idea of his gender. However, being raised in a family where all men are to be soldiers, he had suppressed all those tiny feelings he’s had in the past.

“Well, can I meet him?” Dave asked.

“Not yet. It’s a bit complicated. Not in this timeline, at least. We are of the same age and meeting your future boyfriend in his 13-year old body is a bit…” Five explained. “You know what I mean.”

“Can you at least tell me something about him?”

Five smiled at Dave’s question. At least, Dave has accepted the fact that he is his brother’s lover. He can’t even imagine how happy Klaus would be when he founds out that Dave is already together with him.

“That, I can do,” Five replied gently.

“Well then, I guess I’ll leave the two of you alone. Sorry, pal, that’s the part of the story that I’m not aware of,” Hazel said while tapping Dave’s shoulder.

“Well, where to begin?”

In a minute or two, Dave is already bursting in laughter. Hazel could faintly hear the lively discussion that the two are having. He missed that kind of atmosphere, with Agnes not being by his side right now. But he has decided to went through with this precisely for her sake.

I’ll endure for now. I’ll meet her again as soon as this mission ends.

And as his thoughts are flooded by memories of Agnes, he sits silently inside a room right across the professor’s office where Five and Dave are talking. Just like any other night, this will probably end up being a long one.

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cursewoodrecap · 5 years ago

Text

Session 5: Askew

This episode: We meet some very strange people, and go to a very strange place.

Contractor Darius firmly escorts Valeria and Gral out of the Baroness’s hall, but he’s chill about it. Nothing personal, we’re just trying to keep the talk about this madman on the down low. We’ve had some suspicious activity around here lately, see. We Cursebreakers got our hands on some important books recently, and Witness Beatrice was just getting started on translating some of the more suspect tomes. Two days later, the library mysteriously burned to the ground. Now I’m not sayin’ it was the Penitents. We don’t have proof. But...well, you see why we’re being careful with news of anyone touched by the Curse.

Gral and Valeria are quite understanding, but they’d also like to take Darius up on his offer to meet this “madman.” Why not go right now?

Meanwhile, Clem goes armor shopping and meets some nice lesbian weaponsmiths at Hammerstein and Sons - Ms. Hammerstein, and her business partner Ms. Sons. Sadly, she finds out that armor and silvered weapons are ‘spensive. Shoshana is wandering the city, noticing that while people give her funny looks, nobody really gives her any crap about her mildly cursed appearance. Clearly, this is an opportunity to hang out in bookstores and impulse-buy unhealthy food. Nobody invites them to come interrogate the madman. Ahem. Anyway.

Darius brings the two adventurers into a narrow hallway in the repurposed mining office that the Cursebreakers took over after the library burned down. Several offices have been converted into sturdy jail cells. Only one of them is occupied. There’s a bed, and there’s easels everywhere, holding half-finished paintings, ink drawings, and charcoal sketches. Pots of paint and other art supplies are scattered around haphazardly.

“He’s weird but we’re pretty sure he’s harmless,” Darius tells them. “Bea comes in to cast Detect Magic once a day to see if he’s up to something, but she’s never found anything.”

Valeria inspects the various half-finished paintings. They’re mostly landscapes. She sees:

-a frozen ocean crashing up against bright purple cliffs, under a sky with five moons

-an owl that turns into a lizard partway through, casting a human shadow. The ground beneath it is breaking apart, opening a pit to darkness.

-a cavernous landscape filled with bones, a grim city looming in the darkness above

-the biggest canvas is full of nothing but very finely-detailed abstract shapes in a psychedelic swirl of colors. Only a small patch of the huge canvas is filled. There is no overarching pattern, just random but elaborate shapes and lines.

Sitting at the big canvas, there is a gaunt elf in ragged clothes. Fresh clothing is folded nearby within his reach, but he hasn’t touched it. Gral notices that there’s something weird about him - the elf’s proportions are juuuust slightly off, pushing him slightly into the uncanny valley. He turns to face them. His eyes are very, very wide, and they are all-black and full of stars.

He notices the group and politely inquires: “Hello. Is the key here?”

“The key?”

“Yes, I think I could be ready to leave soon.”

The adventurers ask if he knows why he’s in here.

“The very nice knights gave me this room to work on my paintings. They’re things I saw when I was elsewhere. I like to refresh my memory.” He points at the grim city. “I’m missing something here….”

Gral politely introduces himself and Valeria.

“Hello, I am the painter. Well, a painter. I’m the only painter here so I might as well be The. Unless one of you paints? No? Very well, the Painter I am!”

Gral inquires of Darius how long ago this odd gentleman was found. Darius says it’s been maybe two or three months? Not long after the mists started happening. The Condotierri found him wandering in a farmer’s field.

Gral turns to the Painter: “Do you know about the lake nearby?"

“Oh yes! I’m very familiar with it!”

“Have you seen the mists?”

“No. Although it makes sense that there would be mists, that’s where mists should happen.”

Valeria brings us back on topic. “How did you get to ‘elsewhere?’”

“Oh, the Key brought me.”

Gral: “...What, or who, is the Key?”

“That is a very complicated question. I’ve asked the Astronomer that many times, and he was always frustratingly vague.”

“The Astronomer?”

“Yes, the Astronomer, he’s the one who told me about the Key. I’m working on a portrait of it!” He gestures to the huge abstract canvas. “I can only remember it sometimes.”

“Where did you meet this Astronomer?”

“In his house by the lake, that’s an awfully silly question.”

Valeria: “...Tell me more about your paintings. This one is super nice, tell me about it!” She points to the ocean landscape.

“Oh yes! That was beautiful, one of the first places I went from the Astronomer’s house. I don’t know if the others made it through in time. I lost my sketchbook somewhere. Unfortunately I didn’t have my paints with me.”

“...you went to these other places with others?

“Oh, well, that was the idea, but I ended up alone. The Astronomer, The Musicians, The Alchemist, the Sculptor, the other Painter – frankly he’s hideous and the world is better that he was left behind, or stuck between – I didn’t look back, there was too much to see in front of me.”

Valeria elbows Gral. “You’re a musician.”

“So I am! Did these musicians happen to be orcs?”

The painter doesn’t know what “orc” means, so Gral takes off his mask and asks if the musicians looked like him. Nope. Glancing between the orc Gral, the dragonborn Valeria, and the human Darius, he decides the musicians looked like - well, nobody here, but Darius more than anybody.

Moving on to the next painting, Valeria points at the owl-lizard creature. “What kind of creature is this?”

The Painter looks angry. “That’s the Destroyer. We had worked so hard for so long, and at the last moment, the triumph of success, it interrupted us.”

“What did it do?”

“I was on the other side, so I was only able to see, but not warn the others. It destroyed our art, our collaboration. What was to be a bridge is now trapped between the two, between here and there. Sometimes there’s a bit of a connection, but… that’s when I’m able to work on the portrait. I remember the Key.”

Valeria: "...Is the Key a physical object?”

“Are you?”

“…Generally speaking, yes?”

“Not entirely, no, but less than you are.”

“Is the key alive?”

“Partially. Partially. It was killed, but it’s alive. Maybe. It should be more. These are some very odd questions!”

Valeria is pretty frustrated by all the riddles. “It doesn’t sound like your key is entirely anything!”

“Well, it might have been one day. If there’s any of it left. That’s why we tried so hard to reach it. The Astronomer especially. He was the first to see it. He organized the collaboration. I was the only one to make it through.

It hasn’t been so bad since I’ve been back. The small one comes to play chess with me, but she’s really bad at it. Doesn’t know any of the rules.”

“What happened to the Astronomer?”

"He is where the house is. I don’t know which side of the house he’s on, this one or the other side.”

Next painting. What’s up with this city of bones?

“The Key wasn’t WITH me, but it helped me. It sent me places. And yes, it was a rather gloomy place, I did not care for it. Impressive visual, but poor lighting.”

“Was anything there alive and moving?”

“Alive no, moving yes. I’ve left those bits out, it’s more of a landscape. What’s the opposite of still life? Moving dead? I’m sure the OTHER painter would have loved it. But I capture sublime beauty, thank you very much. Is that all? Thanks for the appreciation, but I must get back to work on the portrait. I remembered some of it last night, and those memories don’t stay.”

Gral: “Where are the other collaborators now?”

“Some of them might be in the house, some might be wandering. I barely know why I’m here! I doubt the Astronomer left the house, he loves it. It was his place.”

Valeria asks whether the Astronomer would mind if we paid the house a visit.

“Oh, he loves guests!” An insight check reveals the painter is entirely sincere, and madder than a box of rabbits

He turns away from our heroes and gets back to work, almost trance-like in his movements.

Darius is pretty impressed. “You caught him on a good day. Usually he’s worse, you can’t get him away from painting at all. The paints keep him calm. Me or Quentin will try to talk to him, but this is the most we’ve gotten in a while. He’s usually better after the mists come, which is NOT a comforting thought.”

Gral is fixated on the idea of other worlds. When the terrible creature came upon his expedition, Gral saw a kind of warping in space. “The painter’s madness resembles some of the whisperings upon the air when that creature growled. I think there is truth to what he’s saying, just not our truth. And we know there’s something at the lake. Have you found the Astronomer?”

They haven’t. In fact, this is the first time he’s ever been mentioned. The guy hasn’t really given us anything about what he saw in the mists. You might want to talk to Bea about the astronomer? She used to be local record-keeper. She has a shrine to Torme in the basement - all the books she could recover from the library fire. Don’t spook her, please. Also, Quentin’s gonna want an answer about the Mornheim expedition sooner rather than later.

It’s roughly around here that Clem and Shoshana’s players insist on Showing Back Up. Shoshana is eating some sort of absurd ice cream wrapped in fried dough, because no one was there to stop her.

Gral recounts the audience with the Baroness and the meeting with the Painter, and tells Shoshana and Clem the harrowing story of the Curse’s Champion. “I know the Champion’s in the painter’s story somewhere – not sure if it’s the Key, or the Destroyer. But I don’t like any of it. He has probably seen the Champion.”

We ruminate on the idea of this Key taking things Elsewhere. “When the Champion attacked, it ripped the space around it. Maybe it took the encampment’s tents somewhere else instead of destroying them?”

Maybe this Key is a connection to other dimensions. If that’s the case, Gral contends, the connection is sentient. And sometimes mean. Perhaps, if he had followed the beckoning whispers that accompanied the fearsome beast, maybe he would have ended up in the fantastical places in the paintings.

Our problem: CAN we do anything? We’re low-level, dimensional portals are probably not weak to “being hit with sword,” and we have to face the possibility that, like in a Fantasy HP Lovecraft novel (he’s very racist toward orcs), we will be exposed to Weird Shit Man Was Not Meant To Know and end up as nutty as the painter. Also, like, the dead rising in Mornheim might be a priority?

Gral holds firm. “I can’t overstate how important this is. Sooner or later – I don’t know the agenda of this champion, but everyone in this town will die at its hands.”

He bows his head. “I’ve been living for a long time to just see this thing dead, but when I heard its growl last night I just wanted to run and hide. Still. I’ve heard it speak, so I believe it has a body. And if we can find out what that body is - if we know what it is, and where it is, we can figure out what its weakness is.”

Undecided if or when to investigate the Astronomer’s lake house in regards to this mystery, we decide to first take Darius’s suggestion and speak to Witness Beatrice, the cleric of Torme who rescued books from the library fire.

As we go down towards the basement, Clem pulls Gral aside. “Gral, I’m so sorry – I didn’t know that any of that happened to you. I kind of understand where you’re coming from, back with your unit. So if you ever feel like you need to talk, please know that I’m here for you.”

Gral shrugs. “It’s not something I like to remember. Part of me’s scared, part is mad, part is excited I can finally kill this thing. But I have to know what it is first if I’m going to have any hope of killing it..”

Clem nods grimly. “Believe me, I would LOVE to help you kill this thing.”

We head down to the basement. It’s cluttered with bookshelves - some carry old mining records, but most are groaning under a haphazard collection of singed books. There is a small shrine to Torme, the god of knowledge and law, in the corner. It takes a moment amidst the clutter, but Gral spots a small halfling woman muttering to herself and organizing one of the shelves. Gral takes his mask off, knowing that most non-orcs find it unsettling, and calls out a cheery, “Hello!”

She looks up at us from behind big ol coke-bottle glasses. We are all super visually intimidating and armed, because adventurers. She eeps! and hides behind a shelf. “DARIUS!”

Darius scolds us for frightening her after he specifically told us not to, and tells her it’s okay, these guys came and brought Morozov a dead body and an animal skin - wow, okay, that doesn’t actually help make them less scary. Anyhow they’re allies.

She insists he leave his bird, Daikon, down here with her if we’re gonna be large and scary and stuff.

Turns out that when the library burned, she had just begun a research project on several rare texts that might have clues to the Curse: “The Song of Druids,” “The Temptation of Fiends,” and a gruesome collection of essays on undead compiled by a mad necromancer.

Gral asks if any of the texts mentioned keys or gateways.

Bea: “Portals to the Abyss, maybe? I didn’t get very far before the fire.” She shows us a glass case. There are several fragile books inside, badly burned.

She also tells us the Painter’s name is Johann. “I don’t think he knows how the rules of chess work? He picked up a pawn and started painting on it and said that it was a fish. Then he put it in my water glass. Which makes sense, in a way? But I was drinking that.”

When we mention an Astronomer with a lake house, though, something rings a bell. She hunts through the shelves for an old book of maps, left over from when this was a mining office. One of us tall folks kindly gets it off the top shelf.

There! On one of the islands in the lake. There’s supposed to be a home here – right over the cave system they were mapping. A manor house, belonging to one Artyom Vlemisk. A land grant from the old baron to his friend. Bea thinks back: “Yeah, astronomer Artyom! I remember when he came to town, just when I was starting out – he had a bit of an artists’ colony out in his observatory. I mean, we assumed the artists’ colony died a long time ago. Daikon did a sweep, over the entire lake, and we didn’t see the house anymore. When mists first came, we assumed they all got Got. A lot of the people close to the lake have died in the mists, especially down in the fishing village.”

Bea uses a neat magic trick to instantly transcribe us a copy of the map. She was up by the lake not long ago - she stopped by when Darius was surveying the lake bed (using Daikon, who was an octopus at the time) & Quentin was off with Ser Balderich. There’s some guys from Sturmhearst College who set up on edge of lake. They say they’re here to “study the anomalies,” and they’ve set up shop in an abandoned church, calling it a “staging ground.” It might be easier to get them to take us across to the island - the fishermen probably won’t want to risk their boats. They’re led by a Professor Quercus, who specializes in “aberrant biology.” Bea marks the church on the map for us.

With business out of the way, Valeria can’t help but feel a Powerful Need to do something nice for Bea, and produces her book of tales of the Peacock Knight to help Bea rebuild her library. Bea has a copy of the same tales, but it’s a singed and battered old one, and Valeria happily swaps it for her pristine illustrated copy so the library can have something nice.

We decide to go down to the lake to check it out. We still have five days before we have to give Ser Quentin an answer about Mornheim, and since the mists just came last night, we are maybe less likely to get caught in them again if we go soon. Also, we’re just gonna take a casual look around for an afternoon; we don’t have to get into anything too crazy. Right?

We bop on down to the lake. Sure enough, there’s a damaged old stone churchy building, patched with leather tarps. Lights are flashing behind the windows. Someone has put a wooden sign up out front, reading “Sturmhearst College of the Natural Sciences, Holzog Annex. est. [last Tuesday]”

A pair of hulking dudes all in black leather, with big hats and owl masks stand impassively at the gate, armed with big ol’ clubs. They eerily turn in weird unison to look at us as we walk down the path towards them. Clem waves. Valeria waves. Shoshana finger guns. One of them awkwardly tries to finger gun back.

There’s a bell on a pole near the front gate, labeled “please ring for entrance.” Shosha theatrically pulls the ding dong. A figure in a long-beaked bird mask peeks out of the door. “Um, yes, we’re not buying any, go away.”

“Hey, can we use one of your boats?”

“Uh. You’d have to talk to the professor, I guess. I’m just a researcher”

“Oh, is the professor the one in the bird mask?”

“Is this a joke? ...No, really, is that a joke? I’m studying humor. Well, the humors. I’ve been theorizing that maybe comedy affects the balance.”

Behind him, through the door, there is a cacophony of noise. Growl, clatter, crash, explosion! The researcher goes to check, we wait a moment, and then the door opens. “The professor is now available.”

The researcher, who we dub Frederick, leads us into a decently sized church. Folks in bird masks are hurriedly dragging something into basement. It’s under a tarp. It’s vaguely dog shaped, but big. It also looks like a buncha stuff just got crashed over. There’s another owl guard standing there, holding a weird contraption. It’s vaguely smoking, crossbowlike, and smells of ozone? Whatever it is, I want one the next time we go in the woods.

We are approached by a fellow in a white leather coat, wearing a fancier bird mask than the others. He walks up to Valeria. “Ah! Hello there! Mister…mis…are you a boy or a girl?”

“Um, Kyr Valeria Argent, she/her pronouns?”

“Ah, good. My usual method of determining gender of reptilian organisms would be quite rude!”

IT SURE WOULD, I BET.

“Anyway, why do you want a boat?”

“For science?” we try. Before he can call us on the cliche, he distractedly dives under a table and grabs at a rolling object.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t want to lose the orb! It got knocked down during a…football game. That we were having. Yes. I don’t want it to accidentally take root, it would be an awful waste!”

We inform him that we are investigating what used to be a manor built on the lake. An artist colony, disturbed by the mist. Perhaps even movement between dimensions! Have you ever heard of anything like that?”

“Oh, how fascinating! Have I heard of such a…transference? WHAT NO OF COURSE I HAVEN’T. BUT IT WOULD BE QUITE SOMETHING.”

Insight check: he’s lying through his beak. He IS super fascinated by a transference on that scale, but yes, there is super shady shit happening here. We don’t push further, but he bustles over to a table of various strange objects.

“A quest as worthy as this must be done post haste! And I should give you some assistance! That is what one does when asking a group of valiant heroes to quest for knowledge, yes? Take one of these things, they’re magic. Student inventions, you see.” He offers us three options:

1: A rectangular wooden box with a weird putty inside. The putty apparently works similarly to the Mending cantrip, but is especially intended to repair things that have been burned.

2: A ceramic tile with a hole in the middle and a tortoiseshell on the back. It’s a method of acquiring fresh water – it absorbs water from air, or uses a form of the Create Water spell. He’s not really sure! Boop the shell button and you get a stream of fresh water.

3: A weird misshapen orb of plant matter they found in woods. If you throw it to the ground, it makes vines happen. Frederick got stuck in it! You could use it to make rope, or climb a wall. It grows quite quickly if planted or thrown!

We choose the burn repair gel, hoping it might help Witness Beatrice.

He also insists on giving us a red journal in which to record our notes. We all acknowledge he is definitely using us as unpaid research assistants.

“Oh, by the way. Standard procedure for sending out expeditions: do you know what a homunculus is?” (Valeria does. It’s like a familiar, but crafted out of alchemy. They’re not necessarily evil? Super weird, tho.)

“I have one named Gray. Though he’s really rather more of a blue color. He’s got quite a keen sense of smell, so in case you do not return, please let him sniff you so we can track you and recover your research notes. What’s that, Frederick? Oh. Oh dear! To shreds, you say?”

Frederick nods.

“Well! Please leave an article of clothing, perhaps a sock? He will have to smell you later, when he’s a bit more put together.” Gral gives him a bit of sleeve. He tells us to stick together, so they can find all of us if they track Gral. Splitting the party is not university policy!

As we’re merrily heading out, the DM admits he’s surprised he kept a straight face for the whole scene. And then slyly tells us to google the meaning of the name “Quercus.”

The Professor’s name. Is Oak.

...the laughing DM narrowly avoids being pummeled, by virtue of being several hundred miles away. Valeria’s player is revealed to have been a willing accomplice in the whole gag.

For the record, the three items he offered us? A Char Mender, a Squirt Tile, and a Bulbous Orb.

Revenge will be had, DM. When you least expect it.

Aaaaaanyway.

They let us borrow a dinghy, which we all pile into - nobody has boat proficiency, but we do fine on the basis of nobody wants to spend an hour doing a “did anyone fall overboard and get wet” sidequest. A fish looks at us. It has three eyes. It is not a chess pawn.

We can see houses with docks on the edge of lake. They’re badly damaged and falling apart. There were never many people on the lake islands, but when the mists first rose, everyone on islands got real dead, real quick.

The middle of largest island is where the astronomer’s house was. This is not a particularly deep tangle of wood. The whole place seems pretty tame. The trees aren’t too thick, and there’s a paved road right to a large clearing.

According to the map, there should be a large house here. There is not. Instead, there is a giant hole in ground. We peer into it and see the splintered but surprisingly intact remains of the manor house – like a sinkhole opened up directly under it. Valeria throws a rock in the hole, as an experiment. We observe normal rock in hole behavior, and write it down, for science. It’s about a 50ft deep hole. Seems like there was a cave down there? The house is awkwardly sitting in it, looking weirdly intact for a house that fell in a sinkhole.

We rappel down into the pit. It’s weirdly quiet. Closer up, we can see the house has been painted all over with weird geometric patterns and lines. There are bits of carved stone nailed to house in a big massive design of shifting colors and shapes. The designs are broken up a good deal by the collapse of house. Seems like even the house itself was a giant weird abstract art project? We wonder if it’s the same pattern as the Painter’s “portrait,” but we don’t roll well enough to figure out if it is.

Heading in, we find ourselves in a crumpled hallway. The weird patterns continue along the walls. There are 4 doors; 2 on each side. The end of hallway is rubble.

We open the closest door on left: it’s a painter’s studio. There are easels and spilled paint, and there’s a human skull on floor. There’s sketches. Looks like this painter was painting the skull. Shosha takes a sketch, for souvenir reasons. The art is all really macabre, lots of battle scenes There’s a rack of weapons and a mirror, clearly for art references. One wall has a crazy mural of impossible battle scene. Knights are fighting weird monsters. There’s fire and shooty glowing lights. The characters don’t have the cultural context to describe wtf it is, but the players are told it’s very King Arthur vs. Flash Gordon. There’s also a nice, if cliché, Rack in Chains painting.

Next up is the sculptor’s studio. Lots of big marble blocks. The pattern on the walls has continued through both rooms. In the middle of the room there’s an unfinished sculpture of...something weird? It’s clearly unfinished, but there’s, like, an arm and torso stickin’ out. Wtf is that supposed to be? Also, there’s a bunch of symbols and shapes carved into the wall and into blocks of marble, as if the sculptor was practicing them. They get more regular. Some are carved on statue. Shoshana tries to copy them into our Pokedex journal, but starts getting headache staring at them for so long. Roll initiative. Wait, what?

Wait. That shape wasn’t there before...is it moving? A carved fold in sculpture opens up to reveal a maw of stony teeth. A blue-purple tendril emerges from the mouth and the whole thing kind of inverts itself into a big teeth-and-eyes-everywhere guy. WELP. SCP jokes are made.

It proceeds to smack Shoshana with a pseudopod. Hissss! She instinctually swats back, Primal Savagery giving her unnatural claws. But it’s immune to acid damage, which her claws do for some weird mechanics reason. RUDE. Gral fails to insult it. Then, a clatter of metal - the swords from previous room flying through the air! There is a crackling as lightning comes out of the pattern along the walls. The lightning grabs the swords and pulls them through the air along the lines of the pattern, like a Mag-lev train, and attack Valeria and Gral. Clem smacks a mimic with a sword, which is very helpful, since it has just reduced Shoshana to 0 hp. Gral Healing Words her up, though. Shosha MAX DMGs Burning Hands, killing the mimic. A dozen mouths open as if to scream, and what comes out is a weird discordant song. It burns and starts to shrivel up in front of us. Valeria snaps one of the swords, Shoshana flames another, and the final one rolls a natural -3 and self-destructs in shame.

We decide we no longer want to be in the sculptor’s studio.

The door across the hall opens into a large lounge. There’s a bar, bookshelves, and tables. We flip through the books. Most are about art history. They’re super moldy, though. We also find a book of cocktails, written in Kevan, and immediately start making puns. The Boozenomicon. The Negroni-nomicon? By the Mixologist of Minsk. Miska-TONICS? Mixa-tonics? Obviously by Sturmhearst University press. Clem also finds 2 bottles of fancy high-elven vodka, worth 25gp each. Valeria finds scattered sheet music for 2 songs: one is called “Requiem for the Prisoner;” the other is “The Opening of the Ways.” Naturally, she gives the music to the bard.

Next up is the kitchen. The scattered mess and wall patterns continue through it. Chained to the wall, we find a heavily annotated cookbook. Clem takes it and decides to flip through. It’s written like an eldritch recipe blog, and we definitely gotta have it. Loot!

An awful, acrid chemical scent is coming from the next room. It appears to be the alchemist’s lab, which is definitely not a thing you put next to a kitchen, home designers. We all roll Con saves versus being sickened by the fumes. In the middle of the room lies a decaying body - the alchemist herself. A medicine check reveals a head injury - she was likely concussed or knocked out when the house fell, preventing her from escaping the toxic chemical fumes of her shattered laboratory.

Gral finds a notebook labeled “Property of Dr. Alicia Keene”. It describes certain paints that she was inspired to create – formulas for various pigments and art materials. “While I do not have a direct role in the collaboration, I was inspired to create the wondrous pigments Johann and Musalt will need for their parts, though some of the ingredients for the pigments must be acquired from Beyond. Artyoum has assured me that the Lurker and his Hounds will not bother me as I gather them.”

We also gather three potions, labeled A, B, and Q. The DM has not decided what they are yet, but he’ll stat them at some point, if we ever remember we looted them. Shosha also finds a sealed tin labeled “Paint: Reserved for Collaboration.”

Clem, as we loot evidence, notices a weird puddle. Drip. Drip. She looks up and a slimy mass is clinging to the ceiling. It drops onto us and tries to eat us, but we skedaddle outside the room, far outpacing its slow oozing speed.

As we climb upstairs, we start to hear faint music. It echoes down a long hallway filled with doors. Like dumb teens in a horror movie, we go directly toward it.

Inside the conservatory, the painted patterns swirl in complex detail across the floor, centering on a single music stand. The walls are lined with mirrors, but we notice with unease that we don’t reflect in them. The reflection seems to show the room we’re in, but instead of us there are two women, distorted and lanky with unnaturally long fingers, surrounded by floating musical instruments. One is playing a violin, the other a flute. Gral, having read the sheet music, recognizes they are playing “Requiem for the Prisoner.”

As we enter the room, they look at us and stop playing. They spare a glance at each other, raise their instruments once more, and continue playing. But this time, it’s a different song. We hear the opening bars of “The Opening of the Ways,” and the patterns across the floor begin to glow faintly. Cracks in the mirrors begin to emit the same soft glow, and the odd colorful light begins to extend past the edges of the mirror. Mist begins to pour from the cracks.

A sensible adventuring party would have fled, escaping the house before things could go very, very sideways. The DM explicitly gave us the option. But since when has “sensible” ever described an adventuring party? We wanna see what’s gonna happen.

We are declared certified Dumbasses by the DM, and we are about to go on a very strange journey through the looking-glass.

All PCs are now level 4.

#session recap #holzog #the key #shoshana bat chaya #valeria argent #clem haxan #gral omokk'duu #quentin morozov #contractor darius #witness beatrice #professor quercus #sturmhearst university

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

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Impressions from TTM

Spoilers, spoilers everywhere. Just a big bulleted list of thoughts as I read through the graphic novel. Not a lot of detail included, so it’ll make a lot more sense if you’ve already read it yourself!

looks like Moonshadow elves cross the arms of the dead... when they have a body to bury

it’s nice to see that Rayla imagines Runaan with all his shirts, the way she last saw him

kinda looks like Rayla changed into her jammies right on her bed and dumped her clothes on that little table. maybe she’s afraid of letting the few things she actually possesses out of her sight

listen we get one little panel of Opeli in here and it’s great

Soren’s cape smacking Callum in the face, 10/10

Lujanne’s appearance out of nowhere, along with Allen’s is just adorable, she’s so sparkly. And also she can apparently just turn totally invisible with an illusion spell? Even at a new moon? Probably because of the Nexus I guess

Lujanne’s “Big strong man with big strong feelings.” She and Runaan have exactly the same type and I support them

Allen’s face when Lujanne says it aches to miss Phoe-Phoe

Callum eating off Rayla’s plate and wondering how Lujanne suspected they were a couple, hmmm

Soren and Allen bonding

Rayla warning Lujanne about hand disguises, as if that was something Runaan made very sure she knew

Rayla’s cute chaos grin when Callum’s Aspiro spell goes off is my favorite pic of her in this whole graphic novel

Lujanne’s “Oh.” afterward is my fave pic of her, too, she does not seem to handle reality well!

Bait’s tongue will never get old

Lujanne’s whole speech during Phoe-Phoe’s rebirth ritual is so touching and beautiful, my heart

Lujanne putting the newborn Moon Phoenix into Ezran’s hands, like she knows he’ll have the best connection with her

Callum’s tears as he reminds Rayla that Runaan killed Harrow, he’s trying to move on, but it hurts

Rayla’s self-soothing behavior when she has her second nightmare in the book--she must have these most every night :((((

the big symbol on the Moon Temple doors looks like a stylized Moon staff, like it’s a building for mages

Lujanne saying Rayla might not want or need the truth right after Callum mentions Runaan’s name to her, he sassily asks about her husbands and she turns it into a compliment

Callum’s big reaction to the moon opals is adorable. The only other one he’s seen was part of a pair of treasured gifts between long-time spouses, so it kinda looks like he’s all “uhh we just started dating”

also Ethari must’ve made cute metal swirly covers for the pair he and Runaan wore, since these two are undecorated--maybe he got his from Lujanne?

listen Lujanne is a hoot and all but she’s both an ally and an antagonist. Her actions are trustworthy but her advice is generally terrible. It’s an interesting parallel to how Runaan says a lot with his actions too, but he talks a lot less than Lujanne

Rayla yeeting herself into a fight just to ask Soren for a talk is 10/10 Moonshadow assassin goals

but her hood is up when she’s lurking in the trees--she might not have known where she’d find Soren and was anticipating something less fun on the feels-o-meter

Rayla in the mud again. Soren keeps making people fall in the mud

Allen’s grumpy squiggle

Callum, I love you, but you have no respect for moon opals. It’s like they wronged you in a previous life or something

that dancing elf has very long hair and shoulder pauldrons, and they start off dancing with six kneeling, watching, hooded elves around them--Moon Druids wore hoods even before they were assassins. Considering what Lujanne said about why the portal was sometimes opened, maybe those six kneeling elves are waiting under their emotion-hiding hoods to farewell a loved one who’s recently died?

can’t tell for sure but maybe the elf is dancing along the lines in the stone like they mark patterns for ritual dances, which would be the bomb

Soren and Rayla’s conversation is pretty wrenching. Seeing Soren have to struggle with what he did because it’s tangled up with Viren is rough because as a Crownguard it should just have been his duty to defend his king and he’d have nothing to feel weird about

Rayla dissociating herself from the term “assassins” and Soren dissociating from calling Viren “my father” in the same conversation is 10/10 excellent growth

Soren must know what happens to prisoners his dad gets a hold of, even if he doesn’t know the details :(((

“we captured him” and “Viren took him” seem to be talking about the Crownguard and Viren, not the brodigies and Viren

Rayla having a wooden sword at the end of the day bc she played swordfighting with Allen and Soren all day long

the panel where Rayla doesn’t say anything at all after telling Callum that she asked Soren about Runaan actually says so much, you can hear it

every time Lujanne’s white lies idea gets repeated, things get worse

Allen’s reading glasses, there must be one optician in the human village and he caters to soft kindly gentlemen of a certain age

in the moon phase montage, baby Phoe-Phoe is flying next to Ezran after one week at the Nexus. Maybe he’s paying her back by helping her learn to fly after she helped him teach Zym how to fly! Did they bond as tightly as Ezran did with Zym? I support Ezran just bonding with the most powerful flying creatures in all the land.

the irony of Callum using Lujanne’s tactics against her is amazing, but really the white lies thing is a giant ball of chaos in this story and it does not play favorites

Bait on the stone pillar during rebuilding

all the noises the Moonhenge makes are 10/10

Rayla dancing with Callum even though there’s almost no chance she’s ever done that dance before

Lujanne’s pupils going white, that is a cool effect, what’s it mean?

the black moon in the pink sky is so spooky! Is it just me or does the color scheme here kinda vibe like the space outside Aaravos’s library?

the smoky assassin squad, 10/10 creep factor, I love it

the lightning being a literal crack of doom with “CRAK-DOOM” as Katolis Castle appears, “echoes of thunder” indeed, very nice

Lujanne being mad but she can’t decide if it’s at Callum or herself

when she says pulling Rayla out now will leave her soul on one side and her body a husk. After the Insta live stream last night where we learned that soulfang serpents are Moon primal creatures, that’s... super interesting

smoky assassins go tssh in the rain like they’re still hot from being cremated, thanks I hate it

Andromeda finds Rayla first and seems closest/most aggressive so I wonder why she might hate Rayla more than the others

the assassins’ wrist bindings have gone red but they’re still attached and seem to trap the souls where they are. But all they need to be free is to perceive that Rayla completed their task, even though we know otherwise. So... would that work for killing any target? If you’re certain that you did it, does your binding fall off even if you’re wrong? eyes Pip

this must not be the actual afterlife since the spirits kind of mist up toward the moon and vanish, it’s more like a lobby, no one stays here unless they get stuck

portaling around just by shouting at villains, excellent

Rayla literally dropping a sword at the sight of the pod Viren’s in, yeah, it’s that creepy, I agree

Viren’s eyes are so black I think they’re Aaravos’s. I got a whole headcanon on Good Viren and Evil Viren for S4 now, wow

Phoe-Phoe pulling out a feather for Callum, awww my heart! This is why Ezran had to come, to bond with her so together they could save Callum and Rayla, it’s so sweet

so these humans are from the Storm Spire battle, bc that’s the Storm Spire behind Rayla and Callum on p108, with the rune-written arch. Did they die hating Rayla and Callum from the battle? Did they even know Rayla was up there? Or is pod Viren/Aaravos actually making them attack out of hatred for Viren’s death? One of these is definitely creepier and more awesome

Rayla’s confidence that Callum can and will boost her at the right moment with his magic, my heart, I love battle couples

that one panel that mirrors the Ghost Feather key art, hhhhhh

Rayla being the better swimmer, such precious irony, thanks Runaan

them holding hands and swimming upward together on the full-page panel is blessed

Lujanne pulling Rayla out of the lake with both arms gives me feels bc my grandma saved my life once

Lujanne being super soft over Rayllum, she is indeed a hopeless romantic

Rayla says “gone” about her parents and Runaan, and that’s the word Ethari used too, and I’m suddenly wondering if Ethari reached right into that pool and has always known that the lotus is half-submerged and if the sword he’s been making is for himself

I’m so glad Rayla told Callum what she saw of Viren

Rayla deceiving Callum and heading into danger alone because his life is more valuable to her than her own is exactly what Runaan did for her the night of the full moon in Katolis. I’m leaning toward her having thought this over and doing it on purpose bc she believes it’s a sign of deepest love--that Runaan’s actions and Lujanne’s words match up in her head, so she thinks it’s the right thing to do bc the mage and the assassin agree. Alas, Callum doesn’t understand the Moon arcanum yet, so he will have a different opinion. That mage and that assassin do not agree!

Rayla’s cloak has that Moon Temple symbol on its back. Is it Lujanne’s cloak? Any Moonshadow who sees it will probably know where she got it and who helped her. That could be fun!

#through the moon #through the moon spoilers #rayla #callum #rayllum #tdp allen #lujanne #ezran

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