#the CERTAINTY that so many people seem to have about it though just leaves me like [hands on knees; squinting uncertainly at my own brain]

[jackalmeat]

The first time I watched Arcane, the framing of Vander's and Silco's ideological clash led me to initially assume that, when Vander attempted to kill Silco, it was because Silco had grown so 'extreme' in his views/actions that Vander became disillusioned and ultimately tried to kill him to prevent him from carrying out some course of action that Vander saw as 'going too far'. The season was notably vague on what exactly was the catalyst for the attempted murder, and I think it's reasonable to say that my kneejerk assumption about the situation was indeed the version of events that the show itself seemed to want viewers to believe.

That is to say, the show itself seemed to want viewers to believe, at least for now, that Silco must have crossed some kind of moral event horizon (or imminently intended to) that was so big and so bad that Vander saw fit to kill him for being, essentially, Too Much.

The thing that makes me hesitant to believe that that's the entire truth of what happened, or that Silco unequivocally """earned""" the attempt on his life by becoming too dangerous (too radicalized?) in Vander's eyes, is simply the fact that the very first thing we see Vander do on-screen is beat an Enforcer to death, with gauntlets, in front of freshly orphaned children. And this happened after he attempted to kill Silco. It's communicated visually in that sequence that that kind of violence was the currency Vander had dealt in for a long time; and that his choice at that moment to cast down his gauntlets and walk away from the smouldering battleground (literally and figuratively) with Vi and Powder in tow marked a significant turning point in the way that he engaged with the world.

In light of that, it just seems like the natural follow-up question is, "Okay -- if Vander was still down for leading a violent insurrection, beating people to death with his own two hands, etc. right up until this moment here, then what the fuck did Silco do that was enough to make even him go, 'come here, naughty rat man, it's murder time'?"

This isn't "proof" or "evidence" that Silco and Vander couldn't simply have had a violent ideological split that culminated in attempted murder by any stretch. I just find the overall framing of the situation odd in a way that makes me think there's more to the tale than what the show has thus far implied.

(For instance: perhaps some kind of external pressure which forced Vander into a bitter choice, similar in spirit to the "we both have our shitty parts to play -- get me Jinx, and I'll give you your nation of Zaun" deal Silco was later faced with? The difference being that Vander sacrificed Silco [or attempted to] in favor of whatever was to be gained by doing so; whereas Silco recognized that he had arrived at the same precipice Vander once had, and ultimately couldn't do to Jinx what had been done to him?)

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 2 - Public

pairing: ethan hunt x f!reader

cw: inspired by mi2, implied agent!reader, public sex, wall sex, penetration

word count: 1875

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

The Spanish villa is overflowing with guests; a blend of very important people looking to make business deals with one another, the people working for the very important people, Flamenco dancers adorned in deep shades of red, probably a million partygoers, you. Ethan Hunt, if you were right. Among the sea of people, you swear you’d seen him. You could recognize him from a mile away. 

You couldn’t confirm though. It was hard to get a better look, losing him in the swarm of guests. Not to mention your certainty that the party’s host had been notified of your presence, surely sending enforcements after you any second now.

The thing about Ethan, though, is that, between the two of you, he’s always had the upper hand. Turning a corner on your way upstairs, you run right into something solid. The expensive material of a suit, a perfect face. Extraordinary looking hair. 

Looks like he’d spotted you first.

“Ethan.”

He grabs your arms, carefully backtracks you down the only two steps you’d reached. Back around the corner and against a pillar. He smiles. “Hi.”

“So it was you.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, a sincere softness to his voice. He holds onto your arms.

You can’t tell him. You wonder if he’ll pry. Putting on a smile, you simply say, “Enjoying the party. What about you?”

He takes a moment to think about it, puckering his lips in thought before they drop into a smirk. “Let’s call it.. research.” 

Okay. He’s on a mission, then. You’ve got maybe three seconds to wonder if it’s got anything to do with yours before you spot the enforcements. Down the hall, dressed in tactical gear, looking around. Your widened eyes meet Ethan’s, and you can tell he immediately knows.

“Please help me blend in,” you whisper, realizing too late that he’s not going to hear you over the music. 

Luckily, his instincts save the day, and he pushes you past the pillar and into the shadow it has cast. Your back gently hits the wall behind it just as flashing lights begin pouring into the dark hallway, illuminating your spot every few seconds at a time. It seems something has started on the main floor, a performance, perhaps. Your stomach knots as the men sent after you stalk closer to the pillar you’re hiding behind, but Ethan’s lips are on yours before they pass. You immediately sink into his kiss, feeling the softness of his fingers gripping your jaw as he delves into your mouth.

You close your eyes then, giving them a break from the white glare that seems to be getting faster as the music’s tempo picks up.

The feigned kiss becomes passionate, almost real, with Ethan’s body pressing to yours in an effort to hide you. You’re chest to chest, and you groan into his mouth at the tightness of the dress against your breasts. It’s as if he knows (yet again); his hand goes around behind your neck to delicately lower your zipper just a few inches, giving you a bit of room to breathe.

It’s then that he breaks from your mouth to kiss and nip at your neck, the front of your dress now a bit loose from his work on your zipper, your cleavage exposed to him. Your eyes dart to the hallway; the men have passed, the hall empty. Maybe this is where you pull apart and go your separate ways again. Ethan continues leaving a trail of wet kisses over your collarbone, arms wrapping around your middle. 

It feels good. You almost want to moan. You settle for a happy sigh instead, “I owe you one.”

Another smirk, and one last kiss under your jaw before he’s facing you again. “We’ll call it even if you tell me what you’re doing here.”

You exhale, lips puffy from his kiss. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes; you have many times before. You can’t, though. Just like you’re sure he can’t tell you why he’s here. Maybe, for now, all you can do is hide here with him.

He begins to pull away, and you panic. 

“Wait.”

As if on cue, the flashing lights from the center of the party stop, a dark blue glow washing over the hall instead. You’re left in the pale darkness, body still pressed to his. 

Fuck it.

You lean up, capturing his lips again. You decide to let your hands roam, into the suit and against his pecs, then up and around his neck to pull him as close as he was just a few seconds ago. Your knee tips up slightly, your thigh slipping from the slit in your dress to rub between his legs. 

“We’re doing this?” he groans. “Here?”

You ignore the question, instead moving your hands to the button on his pants. If he stops you, then so be it. 

He doesn’t, though, his hands joining your shaky ones to get the button off and his zipper down. Reaching into his pants, you start palming at him through his underwear. The angle is odd but he squirms against you, lips slightly parted. It feels good, it seems, so you continue. Your touch turns to grip, and you pull at him as he moans against you. Letting you touch him, he presses his hands against the wall on either side of your head.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, hand slipping in to pull his half-hard cock out and fully into your palm.

He growls at the feeling, the hand closest to you dipping down the curve of your body and under your ass to hook your leg around his waist. The slit in your dress exposes your thighs very nicely, and he smiles at the easy access.

“Nice dress,” he muses, leaning in to kiss at your neck again, his hand slipping into the slit.

When you feel his finger prodding at your clothed cunt, you throw your head back against the wall in impatience. The risk of getting caught slips your mind; all you can think of is how badly you need to feel him. “Please,” you breathe out for him.

You stroke him until he’s fully hard, and by the time he is, he’s got your underwear shoved to the side and a finger working the growing wetness between your legs. You cover your mouth with your free hand, letting him work you open on his one digit. 

One finger becomes two, and he adds his thumb against your clit for good measure. You have to bite your tongue to not cry out.

He doesn’t prolong it, though. You don’t have much time here. The music could stop, the lights could turn on, someone could walk by and spot you, or worse, it could be the men sent after you. Despite all the possibilities, you realize you’re not really stressing as much as you should be. This, though, is unheard of for him. He doesn’t intend on fucking up. Ethan’s fingers slip out of you, and you feel their wetness against your thigh when he grips at them to pull you closer against him. He lines himself against you as best as he can, eyebrows pulled together in concentration. 

The whole thing is messy and uncomfortable. You’re not sure how this’ll work. The wall provides absolutely no comfort to your now strained back, and your calf is kind of starting to burn from standing on your tiptoes. 

Your back arches off the wall just a bit when the head of his cock enters you. The angle is still odd but it does help him slide into you, and he’s halfway inside you when a strangled moan escapes your lips. Lightning fast, he removes a hand from your waist to cover your mouth with his palm, and you slip down onto your heel. The action sinks you down onto the rest of him, your hips flush with his.

Whatever performance is going on on the main floor is surely enough to hide your sounds, but you can never be too careful. 

The position is awkward; his cock feels good when you’re on your tiptoes (uncomfortably so), and you’re not sure how he intends to thrust into you like this, so you settle for rolling your hips against him instead. You find it hard to do one-legged.

He removes his palm to kiss you deeply again, like the kiss that started this. He follows you in rolling his hips instead of thrusting up, and the pleasure swims through you in waves. He slowly snaps his movement at first, a few seconds apart each time, your bodies mostly just pressed to one another, until he finds a better angle. 

It only helps a tad bit, however, his thrusts shallow. He’s deeper inside you than he is moving in and out, but it still feels delicious. 

Your head rolls back against the wall again, your neck exposed to him. He leans in to kiss and nip where he’s face-level. You’d almost forgotten what a passionate lover he was. The pleasure turns white hot, heat flushing your entire body. The unzipped front of his pants meets your dripping core with each thrust, elevating your senses. Clothed public sex. That’s a new one. 

His groans are quiet but hot against your ear, only fueling the pit of fire in your stomach. 

“Keep.. an eye out,” he rasps, his voice gravely and low.

How could you, though? 

You’re itching closer and closer to your release, biting your lip hard to avoid making noise. The burn in your leg from holding yourself up against him is irritating you completely, but the orgasm you’re chasing is so close already, what with the quick work of his fingers and—this entire fervorous situation, really. You squirm and try rolling your hips to match his movement. Ethan, in his own impatience, reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit again.

You cum a minute later with an inevitable loud whine.

Ethan feels you clench around him, immediately pulling out to finish on his hand. A slight bit of pain meets your orgasm when your heel fully situates itself on the ground again.

Ethan lets go of the leg that he had hooked around his waist, and your knees feel wobbly when you attempt to set it down. Your orgasm pools in your lower abdomen and you keep from crying out in its coming afterglow. All you can do is lean against the wall as Ethan cums into his fist with a heavy grunt. 

Panting, the both of you stare at each other for a moment. Ethan comically glances down at the mess he’s made. He cocks a brow before meeting your eyes again, tucking himself into his pants as quickly as he can and wondering how the hell he’s going to clean himself up. 

“Let’s maybe not do this again.”

You can’t help but snicker. The ambience surrounding you is still the same; the hall is still a pool of dark blues and shadows. The music from the center of the party is still going. It’s then that it dawns on you. You laugh as you join him in fixing your garments. “We probably could’ve done this upstairs.”

[ateez-himari]

HEATED COACHELLA STAGE

After many attendees holding their breath for the next bold move MinAri might enact, it seems as though their shyness finally dissipated.

April 20, 2024 (6:48PM)

While weekend two unfortunately marked the last performance held by ATEEZ on a Coachella stage as of this year, the group left an ever lasting impression with powerful choreography paired with breath taking visuals and raw vocals. Through the numerous clips circulating online there is a specific instance that has been sending social media platforms into a reposting frenzy, one involving a rather passionate display by main rapper, Mingi, and lead vocalist, Himari.

While viewers were expecting something such as this to happen due to the intimate moment shared between the two during their first performance, it seems as though none were truly ready to witness it with their own eyes on stage. The interlude to their song 'Arriba' left gasps echoing in the crowd as Mingi pulled the maknae in for a true lover's kiss, an arm tightly draped across her waist whilst the other motioned for attendees to make some noise. In contrast to the beginning of the group's career where the two saw their reputation nearly torn to pieces following dating rumors, which were later disproved as nothing more than a scheme to have the vocalist removed, the crowd showed their support through loud cheers and vibrant excitement.

Their own bandmates could be seen encouraging them as some used water bottles to simulate rain, every artist on that stage including backup dancers visibly enjoying the relaxed atmosphere that had been created. Following the performance several members had gone live for a few minutes, one of them being Seonghwa who briefly mentioned a comment refering to the heated kiss as the vocalist could be seen giggling in the background prior to him playfully scolding her.

'That...we definitely expected it since he had talked about it during rehearsal, but I thought it was going to be like the first day. It flustered me too but seeing everyone having fun made me happy.'

Despite these heated stage interactions no official label has been placed on their relationship due to no statements coming out regarding the situation, leading some to believe that it was no more than a rehearsed act to rile up fans or that whatever is happening between them is simply a more intimate level of friendship. There is a possibility that this moment stemmed from the artists' immersion in the performance as well as the heat of the moment, as the youngest is after all a member of the 'Demon Line' and both are known to have rather intense stage personas.

'Seeing people say that they're still 'just friends' is so funny to me 😭Like do you guys not see everything they've been doing for a year now ? I get the people saying they could be 'friend with benefits' but come on...' - X user

It seems as though neither artist not the company intends to lift the mystery surrounding their relation to one another as of yet, leaving netizens to create countless speculations without the certainty of a confirmation. One thing that everyone can be sure of however is that this group knows how to set a stage on fire no matter who the people watching might be, living up to their newly earned nickname of 'Pirate Kings of Sahara'.

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[starswornoaths]

3. Tempest

Post 6.0, things are changing for the Scions.

They just haven't told all of them yet. So naturally, that becomes an issue.

word count: 1,313

-

“Big things ahead for us, I should think,” Alphinaud chimed happily without looking up from the letter he had brought in to work on. 

“Hmm. Bigger than what we just finished?” Serella asked, her own focus deterred from goldsmithing between his comment and the ache in her ban.

“Oh heavens, I should hope not! Many changes loom on the horizon, but much will feel familiar. It will be nice to go to ground again, so to speak. Not that we should hasten to our next task, of course, but having a plan is preferable.”

There was a peculiar pause there—only a few moments, but long enough that Serella caught the way he flitted his eyes toward her with as little movement as possible. Had she not stopped fiddling with her project, she might have missed it entirely…which she suspected he had been hoping for.

“What do you mean,” she asked slowly, “when you say we will go to ground again?”

That got him to set his pen down, though he kept his eyes on the paper in front of him. 

“We Scions have been talking—”

“—Without me?” she asked with care.

“Oh!” Alphinaud was startled into actually looking at her when he seemed to realize how horrible it sounded when put like that. “No, not with the intent to leave you out of the discussion, of a certainty, but we thought to bring it up when you were perhaps a bit further along in recovery—”

“What are you lot talking about, then? What’s this plan I’ll find out about later?” she pressed, already thin on patience.

Silence stretched for another few heartbeats, drawn out further by Alphinaud’s resumed refusal to look at her.

“I— well, ‘tis hardly a plan just yet, but…given all that we have accomplished, and how far the Alliance has come—”

“The Grand Company of Eorzea.” Serella corrected him.

“Yes, yes, the Grand Company,” Alphinaud hastily corrected, adding, “though even that name change proves how far they have come. Far enough along that I believe it time for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to slip back into the shadows. We aim to announce our disbandment upon your medical clearance—”

“Disbandment?” Serella gawked. 

“Not in truth! Only insofar as the official story will tell!” Alphinaud reassured, at last turning to her fully.

Serella wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the conversation, at the way he looked surprised that she might take umbrage with the notion.

“We are an organization that has always worked in shadow in service to the star—”

“Oh come off it,” she cut him off waspishly, “Minfilia called us the worst kept secret in Eorzea before we had even moved to the Rising Stones. If you think for one second we were ever fully hidden—”

“I am under no such delusion.” Alphinaud huffed. “Even if only in principal, however, we were not outwardly acknowledged.”

“Until Minfilia specifically declared that we would be a public institution. To be open and honest with the people we fight to save. And you would undermine that, Alphinaud?”

“The world has changed, Serella,” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “to even begin to speculate on what Minfilia would do after all of this is a disservice to her memory.”

“And the choice to lie to our friends isn’t? To our allies? After fighting alongside them in the name of truth and unity? When we have only barely started pulling back as arbiters for advanced technologies and mediators between peoples post-Calamity? For what purpose, even? So you won’t be pestered by the things they don’t ask of us anymore?” she asked.

“Not—not lying—well, alright, ‘tis a lie, but one that we feel—”

“We?”

“—is necessary. The city-states will continue to grow independent on their own—”

“You know they only asked us for help when they couldn’t do what we did, yes? That such needs were why the Scions were even founded to begin with?” she pressed him. “I don’t even particularly like the governments we’ve worked with, and even I would not be so uncharitable as to consider them demanding.”

“They did ask much of us—” he began.

She was having none of it, however, citing, “Eorzea was losing to Garlemald when I joined the Scions. Do you even remember that? It was a lifetime ago, aye, but they didn’t even ask us at first—do you not recall how close they came to surrendering? Now that they have the means to combat primals without the Echo and a cure for tempering, you cannot even trust them to restrain themselves from asking needless favors?”

“‘Tis not only up to me—” he sidestepped.

“But you suggested it, I’d wager.” She countered.

When the silence re-entered the room, it was incredulous. Stifling. 

“That…is a cruel assumption,” Alphinaud said slowly, eyes averted.

Unfazed, Serella blanched, “Am I wrong?”

Silence chimed in to answer on his behalf: of course he did.

“I think it more than fair for us to step back from—” he tried to pivot.

“So do that. Assign other Scions to Eorzea’s care if you feel you’ve done your part. Disbanding would displace dozens of our colleagues. How many of us have rooms in the Rising Stones with nowhere else to go? For how long was I one of those colleagues?”

“Everyone would remain on the payroll—”

“But disbandment would require us to scatter. To “keep up appearances” and give credence to the lie. Have you factored in where our colleagues will go? How long will we be scattered? What will happen to the Rising Stones and the Waking Sands?”

“We’re barely starting the talks for this now, I know not what we will do to address these things—” he tried to argue.

“Have you told Estinien?” she asked pointedly. “Does he get a vote?”

Silence once more interjected—of course Estinien doesn’t know yet.

Nor was he an Archon.

“Well…” Alphinaud meandered.

“After all the effort the lot of you used to cajole him into joining, finally reassuring him he’s got a steady place to rest his lance outside of Ishgard, this is his thanks not even six moons on?! And what of the others?!”

“As I said, we’re still working it out—”

“So you’re bringing this to the table with no logistics, no plan, and nothing to act as a safety net for those of us that aren’t Archons?” Serella pressed.

“Were our deaths not enough?” Alphinaud asked, tired. “I care for our comrades’ well being. You know I do. But I haven’t the answers yet.”

“Were any of mine?” she countered. “You got to come along for the full ride once, and that was enough, was it?”

“I know not why this is an argument,” he huffed, throwing his hands up in the air as he added, “I still want to work to help Garlemald—your betrothed leads the charge in that—”

“Which makes it all the more insulting you would have me lie to him. You would leave no organization behind the lot of you, nothing to help future generations, no “guiding light” like Loui—”

“I know,” Alphinaud said in a low voice, “what my grandfather wanted. And I know what we want.”

“And who is we, Alphinaud?” Serella asked again in a matching tone.

Silence’s presence made itself known in the room again. It hummed in her ears, it buzzed in his blood. 

“I think…I should go.” Alphinaud murmured, easing himself down from his chair. “Mayhap we can revisit this once you are better. You’re talking like you did years ago when you thought yourself alone.”

“And little wonder. You talk like you did when you thought to form the Braves. You’ve never seemed younger.” Serella quipped, already leaning back into her pillows.

If his flinch was any indication, Alphinaud understood it as the furthest thing from a compliment, yet silence saw him out of her room.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

behold: my second least favorite string of words in the entirety of Tears of the Kingdom.

(it's a little less transparent why this time so I'll explain my thoughts under the cut)

So why do I not like this?

In so many words: because if you remove it, the scene still works, but you lose the moral certainty of what is going on.

This single sentence does so much legwork for the entire game (the kind I dislike), to the point where I'm about 60% sure it's the product of a rework that realized how ambiguous Rauru's position was as the Good Rightful King and needed to nervously reassure the players that Ganondorf Is and Always Was the Invader, Actually.

(no matter that it leaves the gerudos in this awkward in-between state of both invaders and victims, while never dwelling in the specifics of their history and their own agency in the entire thing; brushed off as a sin they have to expiate through loyalty to the winners of that particular strife, but without explicitely blaming them either to avoid the implications of what that would have looked like)

If you remove it, not only do you lose a pretty clunky line that detracts from Ganondorf's intimidating presence (who is he even speaking to? who needs to hear this right now?) that honestly speaks for itself when it comes to his experience with warfare, but also you lose any tension and any mystery regarding why he is attacking in the first place.

You also... kind of rob Ganondorf's motivations of their meaning. "Hyrule will bow down before me" leads to asking... why? What does he want? What does he see in those lands? And what little we get with Rauru and then Link during the final fight begs more questions; why do you prefer hardship to peace? Why do you value strength? What leads you to want to rule a land devoid of survivors, become a king without a kingdom? I don't think we ever get satisfactory answers. If you remove this sentence, on the other hand... Subtextually, it becomes pretty clear that his motivations is that he felt threatened by Rauru's power, which is ripe with subtext and questions about whether this is a legitimate reaction, whether his "no survivor" stance is due to a feeling of betrayal when his own people turned against him post the Demon King shenanigans... I'm not saying it would fix the entire game's writing, far from it, but it would already do *so much more*.

(genuinely, I think he could have stayed completely silent during the Molduga Assault, speaking only in the Show of Fealty before going completely nuts after Sonia's murder, and it would have worked MUCH better in terms of characterization but anyway anyway

EDIT: ALSO!!! that way he wouldn't speak hylian to fellow gerudos, which is weird inherently)

Without this line, the core of the tension between the gerudos and Hyrule comes front in his conversation with Rauru; it allows the cause of his hostility to be Rauru's invitations, that he would have taken as a threat, and would have still made him warlike and domineering without making him cartoonishly flat, because, once again, Rauru is not acting in a particularly more legitimate way when Zelda arrives in Ancient Hyrule; and it would have been... fair to point that out. And make for better characterization for Rauru, and Sonia, and Mineru, and everybody. But the priority was for Hyrule to be pictured as unquestionably holy; always legitimate, always truthful, always beautiful, always just.

Also, and this is more of a nitpick but: why would Ganondorf want Hyrule, specifically, to bow down before him also? Was he at war with the rest of the disparate tribes before, and just carried on his ambitions to the very very newly-founded kingdom as they allied under a new banner? (though it seems to be implies the lands were crawling under monsters in a generic sense, and not Ganondorf's attacks in particular) Why would he even consider Hyrule a legitimate entity worth taking over then, if it is so new, born from the will of a powerful rival, founded by what is basically a stranger to these lands? Why would he covet something so young instead of destroying it and just calling the lands Gerudo Lands II or Grooseland or something?

I don't think any of that was even accounted for, because, beyond everything else: to me, this sentence is so clearly and painfully crammed in here to shield Hyrule from any potential blame and immediately characterize Ganondorf as Bad without having to remove any of the causes that could lead one to side-eye Rauru's little pet project as equally questionable.

Beyond the clumsiness, it is cowardly --and, I think, a little damning.

[timeless-fanfic]

hii can you write an imagine where Jesus asks fem reader to follow him and she has no friends ever in her life. She’s always been lonely besides her parents and John welcomes her and befriends her thank you 🩷

Welcomed By The Light

Word Count: 903

John x Reader

Note: This was so cute! I hope you enjoy it!

The sun was low in the sky when I first saw Him.

I had always kept to myself, and not by choice. It was just the way my life had been. I grew up in a small village, where the children played together in the streets, their laughter filling the air. But I was never part of it. Always on the outside, always watching. Even as I grew older, I couldn’t seem to find a place where I truly belonged. My parents were kind, of course, but there were no friends, no one to confide in or share the small joys and sorrows of life.

Loneliness was my constant companion.

But that changed the day I saw Him—the man everyone had been talking about. Jesus of Nazareth. I had heard of His miracles, of how He healed the sick and brought hope to the brokenhearted. But I never imagined He would notice someone like me.

I stood at the edge of the crowd, watching as He spoke to them, His voice calm and filled with authority. The people hung on His every word, their faces reflecting awe, hope, and wonder. I kept my distance, as I always did, unsure of where I fit in among so many.

And then, He looked at me.

It was as if time itself slowed, and for a moment, it felt like He could see everything—the loneliness, the isolation, the years of being on the outside. His gaze was warm, not pitying, but filled with understanding, as if He knew what I had carried all my life.

He stepped toward me, and the crowd parted around Him like a river around a stone. My heart raced in my chest as He approached, His eyes never leaving mine.

"Come, follow Me," He said, His voice soft yet firm.

My breath caught in my throat. Me? Why me? I was nobody—just a girl who had spent her life in the shadows. What could I possibly offer someone like Him?

“I—” I stammered, unsure of how to respond. “Why me? I have no one, no friends, no place. I’m alone.”

Jesus smiled, a gentle, knowing smile that seemed to warm me from the inside out. “You’re not alone anymore.”

The simple words struck deep, and before I knew it, tears filled my eyes. No one had ever spoken to me like that before, with such kindness, such certainty. I had always been on the outside, always believing I wasn’t enough.

But here He was, asking me to follow Him.

I nodded, the weight of years of loneliness starting to lift from my shoulders. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I will.”

The days that followed felt like a dream.

Jesus traveled from place to place, always surrounded by people who sought His wisdom, His healing. And I was there, walking among His disciples, still unsure of my place but grateful for the chance to be near Him.

And then, there was John.

John was the first of the others to approach me. It happened one evening, as we sat by the fire after a long day of walking. The flames flickered in the night, casting shadows that danced across the ground, and I found myself, as usual, sitting a little farther from the group, still unsure how to fit in with this new world.

“Mind if I sit here?” a voice asked, and I looked up to see John standing before me, a gentle smile on his face.

I hesitated for a moment, surprised that he had noticed me, but nodded. “Of course.”

He sat beside me, his presence calming, and for a while, we didn’t speak. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It was the kind of silence that said everything without words.

“You know,” John said after a while, his voice soft, “you remind me of someone I knew once. Someone who didn’t think they belonged, either.”

I glanced at him, unsure of what to say. “Who?”

He smiled, looking into the fire as if remembering. “Me.”

The surprise must have shown on my face, because he chuckled softly. “When I first met Jesus, I didn’t know what to expect. I was just a fisherman—nothing special, nothing remarkable. But He saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself. And I’ve learned that’s what He does. He calls people, even the ones who think they don’t belong.”

His words settled over me like a warm blanket, and for the first time in a long time, I felt... seen. Really seen.

“I’ve always been alone,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never had friends before.”

John’s gaze was kind, full of understanding. “You have friends now. You have me.”

I blinked back the sudden sting of tears, overwhelmed by the simple kindness in his words. “Thank you,” I whispered, not trusting myself to say more.

From that moment on, John stayed close, always making sure I didn’t feel left out, always including me in conversations with the others. It wasn’t long before I felt like part of the group—part of something bigger than myself.

And through it all, I realized that following Jesus wasn’t just about leaving behind my old life. It was about finding a new one. A life where I wasn’t alone. A life where I was welcomed, where I had friends—where I had a place.

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 9.3k

A/N: This thing's getting out of control at this rate! Not only do the chapters keep getting longer, I keep making more and more complicated assets to tell the story, too. I hope you like it!

Also, to all my patient angst queens (gn) out there - not sure how long it's gonna take me to write bc I'm sure it's going to RUIN ME but. Next chapter. Look out for it. :)

Also x2, big love to @steddiesandwich @joemazzmatazz and @heroeddiemunson especially for all the love and contributions they've given to this series. There's some special cameos from them especially somewhere in this chapter!

Another week goes by, another chance to check Ralph's social media numbers. Ever since he remained a trending topic on Twitter following his face reveal - along with the phrase “oh no he’s hot”, which your friends found hilarious but you found yourself feeling… Uncomfortable over. Every now and then you look up his name on social media sites, grateful that the name relatively died out to the point where he’s one of the most popular Ralphs these days, though it leaves you with a strange feeling in your stomach every time. 

There’s just something about the way people tend to objectify him - he’s your friend, and you know he’s so much more than the curls in his hair and the chain on his neck and his chocolate button eyes - a phrase becoming very common amongst his admirers. Arguably the worst part about that is that, either just because you’ve been seeing talk of nothing but those details, or maybe they’re all things you’d already appreciated about Ralph, but you find yourself more and more aware of them with every day that you live with him. And with still no word from Homeless Pete about whether the time machine is awake again. 

You even start to visit the building that Ralph had pointed out on that day 6 weeks ago for yourself, just to see if it really is taking that long to reboot, but it seems to be an ordinary lift every time you go to look at it. You’d be lying if you said you were anything other than relieved whenever the lift would work completely normally, even when you tried to replicate how Ralph had described Pete getting the two of them over here. 

If you were a stranger, looking in on Ralph every now and then, you’d have no reason to believe he wasn’t just your flatmate. He’s been getting more confident about his own role in the modern world, even going so far as to hold brunches for his girl gang, which you’d appreciate a lot more if he ever told you in advance when they’d happen. Though you can usually predict at this point that, if you’re having a rough day at work, you can guarantee you’ll be returning to a flat full of people that you can’t decompress around. 

Not that you didn’t like Ralph’s friends, of course you did - but you’ve been letting Ralph have this group to himself, so as not to make him fully co-dependent on you. You hope that, if anything, him having the confidence to keep up so many friends himself will translate once he’s back home and he can hopefully confront his sister. You know it’s a sore subject, and so you’ll never ask - and it’s not got anything to do with you, anyway - but you wonder whether he’ll seek Lauren out there as well. Whether the New Ralph will try to win her back, or realise that he deserves more than someone who even you know wouldn’t be compatible with him. But again, that’s none of your business. 

Today’s another day off, and you and Ralph are sat in your living space. With Ralph growing tentatively more aware of what social media is actually for, he’s accumulated many questions about it that you’d told him you’d have to dedicate a whole day to answering, and that day has finally arrived. 

“Okay, first things first,” Ralph starts, crossing his legs on the sofa cushion beneath him and opening a book he had bought a couple of weeks back. “Who is mister Stanley Loona and why do people insist on telling me his name all the time?” 

You promised yourself you wouldn’t laugh in his face, that just because internet lingo is second nature to you doesn’t mean that Ralph is silly for not understanding. But Mr Stanley Loona immediately cracked you. Once you calm down, you apologise profusely. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t want to do that! But, stan in this sense isn’t a name, it’s a verb. To stan something is to be a really, really big fan of it. Loona spelled the way you see it, that’s a Korean pop group.” 

“That explains all the dancing ladies that accompany that name, then,” Ralph mutters under his breath as he scrawls on his notepad some more. You bite your knuckle so as not to laugh again. “So, if I were to express my gratitude to you, would I say that I stan you?”

You feel your face get warm. “Well - not exactly, stanning is more of a parasocial thing, between fan and celebrity, or character, or franchise. For example, you might call yourself an Audrey 2 stan,” you smirk as you jerk your head over to the TV screen, where Ralph has requested Little Shop of Horrors for the fifth time since he’s been here. 

He looks at the TV in awe for a moment, “That puppeteering work is just spectacular, isn’t it?!” You’d felt your emotions rise and then drop fleetingly. He’d once referred to something as being “wizard”, and you’d been dying to hear it again, but clearly it must have been a phrase reserved for the most truly special of things. He clears his throat as he reads down his list. “Anyway, next question. Why does everyone feel the need to tell me about their lack of headgear when I ask for clarification on something?” 

You rack your brain for a moment before it clicks, “Do you mean that they say the words “no cap”?” Ralph nods. “That’s just another way of saying “no lie”, it means they want you to know they’re telling the truth. Remember, we talked about fact checking the things you read for the first time before you believe them?” 

Ralph frowns, “Listen here, it would not be entirely uncommon for a Penbury to be loosely related to royalty, we’ve always had ties with high society for generations -” 

“Something tells me that maybe you’re probably not closely related enough to a Nigerian prince that they’d be genuinely emailing you to offer you a share in their fortune,” you reach out to pat his knee before smirking. “And the less said about your potential investment in enhancement pills, the better.” 

“Moving on,” Ralph quickly continues with deliberation, his ears growing pink again. “So, when you posted that photo of me, the one where I had been wearing a red scarf. It seemed to make a lot of people sad,” he frowns. “And they kept telling me I was in an era that I didn’t recognise, the one of Jake Geel- Guy- G-” He sighs in frustration as he flips his book around to show you the name he’s copied down perfectly, but you’ve already figured it out, and texted both Anna and Grace to let them know that the time has come to show Ralph the full video of All Too Well. 

Neither of them respond to your text, but they’re both at the flat within ten minutes, thankfully interrupting the second after Ralph deadpan asks you for the definition of the word “bussy”. 

The girls are a little taken aback at the sight of Ralph, which worries him, but they answer his concerned expression with, “Oh, sorry, there’s nothing wrong! Just so used to seeing you always looking smartly dressed. Strange seeing you in pyjamas.” 

Ralph frowns, “Well, yes, you must always look smart, even in your resting hours, that’s why I got these matching pyjama sets! They don’t quite seem to be what they used to be, but I’ve been getting rather used to sleeping in shirts without buttons!” 

“I’m not sure how Pokémon PJs could be considered “smart”, but you do you, bud,” Anna ruffles his hair, which he sits upright to lean into happily. Between that and his co-opting of Grace’s love of pet names, he’s become very comfortable amongst your friends’ presence. Even if you do have to find ways to make sure they don’t see you react every time Ralph calls anyone “darling”. 

“Poke them on? What am I supposed to poke?” Ralph asks, pressing the graphic of the yellow creature on his shirt. 

Anna smiles, “No, Ralph, those are Pokémon. That’s Pikachu.” 

“God bless you,” Ralph looks Anna in the eye immediately, straight faced as anything, before looking around for a box of tissues. 

“Oh my god,” you groan under your breath, hanging your head as your friends laugh. “You know, the Pokémon ones aren’t even his worst set.” 

“I got some that have a man named Rick on them who became a pickle, no less!” Ralph explains excitedly, his nose wrinkling as his head bobs back and forth. “The shop assistant assured me that it was quite hilarious when it happened.” 

“This isn’t even the worst thing he’s said this morning,” you look at the girls in despair. “I’ll never let Connor take him shopping alone again.” They promise not to, either, and you gesture for them to join you around the TV. Before you can reposition yourself to allow for them to sit between you and Ralph, Anna has sat herself on the other side of Ralph to you, and Grace is on the floor. 

Ralph’s brow furrows. “Grace, please, allow me to sit in your place and you up here, the floor is no place for a lady to be sitting -” 

Grace interrupts, in her classic way, “Women can do anything, Ralph!” 

He frowns, “I hardly think that sitting on the floor is something that anyone should aspire to, regardless of gender, but I suppose if you must.” Grace and Anna exchange similar expressions that you can’t quite get a read on as you set up the video to play. 

Ralph’s first thought as it starts is, “Well, that actress certainly looks far too young to be playing the part of this man’s partner believably!” 

“Keep watching,” Anna hushes, though it’s only Ralph that’s looking at the screen; the three of you anxiously await his reactions to the whole video. He pulls faces of disgust at every loved-up scene, and positively scowls when Dylan O’Brien drops Sadie Sink’s hand. 

“Now, why would she possibly return to him after that godawful apology?!” he exclaims. “He was clearly just telling her what she wanted to hear, there was no weight behind that at all!” 

“We were all young and stupid once, Ralphie babes,” Grace shakes her head. 

“But surely these men would want something far more enriching with someone their own -” Ralph falters as he remembers how he and his twin had found their father on the day he had passed away. He had always found it strange that they’d found him lying naked on top of a far younger woman, and his mother’s rushed explanation of them both performing a specific style of Chinese acrobatics never quite seemed to ring true. He shrinks down in the seat as he watches, quietly seething. 

He does seem to perk up ever so slightly when he sees the protagonist celebrating her birthday surrounded by her own friends. “I’m glad she saw what an awful man he was and left him,” he muses. 

“Oh no, he broke up with her,” you explain, and Ralph’s expression once again shifts to that of total horror. 

“What?!” he exclaims. “And she was just turning 21?! What an awful, awful man.” 

“Yeah, when it actually happened to the real couple, his PR team came out and said it was all because the two of them were in the limelight so much.” 

“Ridiculous,” Ralph spits, scowling as he folds his arms. 

“Yeah, so that’s why now she’s getting her side of the story out there.” 

“Good for her! As she should,” Ralph nods, earning himself another head pat from Anna. He gasps loudly, “Wait!” and rushes to the bedroom, soon emerging with the red scarf that prompted this whole situation, though he holds it as though it’s diseased. “Do you think she would like this one? Could we send it to her as a present?” 

A chorus of aww s comes from your friends as you shake your head, “It’s fine, mate, and you don’t even have to throw it away, really.” 

He looks at it, and then pulls a face. “No, I can’t. Red has never especially been my colour, anyway.” 

The girls continue teaching Ralph about Taylor Swift’s relationship history as you inform the boys enquiring in the group chat as to where everyone is. They’re talking about how she’s always written her own songs when Anna asks, “Do you play any instruments, Ralph?” 

His eyes light up, “Oh, yes! I must say, leaving home… The way that I did, I do miss my ukulele.” Your eyes dart quickly to see if the girls react to Ralph talking about leaving home, but thankfully that’s not the part that they focus on. 

They excitedly ask him about his craft as you text the one friend you know can help you give Ralph a little bit of his old life back: 

You also tell Scott that Connor is coming over, and he lets you know that he may as well complete the group. 

Connor does, however, groan when he and Scott walk through the door, “We did not come all this way to listen to Taylor Swift the whole time.” 

Ralph frowns at his new favourite artist being disrespected, but you pat his shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you play us a song?” Everyone else nods excitedly as Connor hands him the instrument, but Ralph looks unsure as he starts strumming.  

“Well, I don’t really know any actual songs, I just know the chords and then I write my own,” Ralph admits, his ears getting pink. 

Scott looks at him and gasps excitedly. “I beg, play one of your songs for us!” 

“Oh, codswallop, you don’t want to hear any of that!” You could fry something on the poor man’s ears, they were that red. 

Instead, in a bid to satiate everyone, you tell your Echo to play Queen, but it doesn’t recognise your voice, as you’d forgotten until this moment. Sighing in half-hearted frustration, you ask Ralph, “Can you ask it to just play Queen , please?” 

Ralph shuffles in his seat, shimmies his shoulders and grins proudly as he looks around all of your friends. “I’m the machine’s best friend, you know, it only wants to listen to me!” 

“He set it up to be locked on his voice?” Connor asks, amused. 

“And figured out he could use it to buy things,” you smile sarcastically, flicking your eyes over to a new pair of shoes sitting just by the door. 

“So it’s not you that’s suddenly into tap dancing, then? Shame,” Scott teases as you flip him off. 

“He did also order me those as an apology,” you gesture at the arrangement of a variety of flowers that sits on your coffee table. “Though off my account, so really it was a gift to and from myself.” 

“Do you all mind, please?” Ralph asks shortly, and you all fall silent. “Thank you.” He clears his throat. “Alexa, darling, be a gem and play some Queen music for my friends, won’t you, please?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He frowns, “My speech was quite clear, was it not?!” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose, to everyone else’s quiet titters. “Three words, mate. That’s all you need to say.” 

Ralph’s eyes widen with fear as he shakes his head. “That thing already knows how to do too much, once it gains full sentience, I want it to see me as an ally!” 

“Then just add a single please at the end,” you explain, resigned, which he does to his own chagrin. 

While Ralph doesn’t know any of the songs, obviously, he does seem to be enjoying listening out for how chord progressions go and trying to play along with them. He seems at peace with the instrument. It’s very sweet to watch. 

Connor pulls you out of your trance by loudly exclaiming from behind you, “Speaking of good old fashioned lover boys!” You cringe at your friend’s segue, terrified at what that could insinuate. “Hey Ralphie, have you managed to pull yet?" 

He looks at you, confused, and mouths, Pull?

You roll your eyes and shake your head before addressing your friend again. "Ralph's had enough to learn just being here, and besides, I am not laying out here while he goes at it with some stranger in my bed, thank you!" You can't even think about Ralph kissing anyone else, let alone… No. Absolutely not. 

When you look back over at Ralph, his ears resemble a pair of Polish flags. “Gadzooks, certainly not! I couldn’t - I would never - not even - that would take months of courting!” 

Your warning stares at your friends to not laugh at the word gadzooks doesn’t last through the mention of courting. “It’s… A bit different around here these days, Ralph. You know those things on your phone, the apps?” He nods. “And how there’s apps for everything?” Another nod. “Well, there are apps that help you connect with potential… Suitors,” even you have to bite your lip as you try to translate the likes of Tinder into Ralphspeak. “You make a profile with photos and a description of yourself, and you look at other peoples profiles to see if you like them. If you both like each other, you can talk to each other and arrange to see each other from there.” 

Ralph looks entirely perplexed, but he still hands his phone over to an excited Scott. “Right, do we use a photo from his Insta that’s already doing numbers? That way we know what’s gonna be the best received.” 

Grace shakes her head, “Nah, anyone who recognises him will just think it’s a catfish.” 

Ralph leans close to you to ask quietly, “Why would they -” 

“They’re not gonna think you’re a fish, Ralph,” you groan back in the same volume. “A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone else on the internet. So, what photo do we use?” You hope they don’t ask to look through your camera roll. You’re forever taking candids as potential shots for Ralph’s social media, but the ratio of photos you take versus ones you feel are good enough to post may give your friends ideas about just why you take so many photos of him. And you don’t need that to add even more complications to what is already the most bizarre two months of your life. 

“Definitely a brand new one, right off the bat,” Grace nods. 

“Could we not use one that already exists that nobody’s seen? Anyone got any of those?” Connor asks. You quickly shake your head, keeping your phone out of sight. He frowns, “All I’ve got is group photos.” 

“Oh, never have a group photo as your first one,” Anna shakes her head. “Why don’t we just let Ralph choose how to have his first photo, without our judgement? It’s his profile, after all.” 

Despite their complaints, the others agree to let Ralph decide what photo he should take, though you do suggest that perhaps he change out of his Pokémon pyjamas first. Your friends are quick to hurry him, reminding him that he only really needs to change his top half. 

The sight that befalls you within the next twenty minutes is arguably one of your most favourite Ralph moments. There he stands, against the back wall in your flat, wearing a smart polo shirt with bottoms that are adorned with Bulbasaurs, Squirtles and Charmanders; and after having plucked out a rose from the arrangement of flowers that he’d ordered for you and inspecting it for a while, Ralph had decided that the most charming way to pose with it would be to put it between his lips. You and your friends all look to each other to silently react without Ralph catching on, and everyone seems to silently agree that the best way to do so is to stare at Anna in a way that lets her know she’s entirely responsible for this, which she takes from everyone quite happily. It puts you at ease that all your friends are just accepting him as merely being a bit quirky, rather than anything suspicious. 

Scott takes the official photos, and you’re happily documenting the behind the scenes for it all to look back on someday. Or later that night. Who’s to say? After Scott deems that the perfect shot has been taken, you all crowd around to decide what else to include. Connor comes up with the idea of creating a slideshow presentation in which you all contribute to help “sell” Ralph. He agrees to it quite happily, putting faith in everyone else’s knowledge of the modern dating world over his own lack thereof. 

After much deliberation, and some creative brainstorming amongst the five of you, you create the perfect Tinder profile for him: 

Once it’s all uploaded, Connor and Anna teach Ralph how to use the app, showing him how to read bios, look through others’ photos and ultimately swipe either way on them. Ralph still finds it all unusual to judge people so superficially, but Grace assures him from a distance that it’ll come with time. 

While the idea of Ralph having a Tinder account did seem funny to you at the time, something doesn’t sit right in the bottom of your stomach. The idea of Ralph dating? Hilarious. The reality of it? Of him finding someone he’s attracted to, of him falling in love with someone els- someone, of him leaving you and the flat to start a life with them? How would you explain Ralph’s situation to them? What if they wanted to get married, have a family? The thought of Ralph becoming someone else’s husband just doesn’t compute. Maybe this was a bad idea after all, maybe once everyone’s gone home you can scare him away from it. But then, who are you to deny Ralph a little fun while he’s here? Surely, dating around might be a good experience for him, especially around the new friends he’s made. It’d be a good confidence booster for when he returns to his own time. It might even teach him not to fall as fast and hard for people as he did for Lauren. Or to be the kind of person that wins her back. Whatever he wants. The pros of him dating massively outweigh the cons, but there’s still something in your heart of hearts warning you against it. 

At the end of the day, you tell yourself, Ralph is a grown man. Only he can decide if he is ready to date someone. It’s your job, as his friend, to support him even with all his… Extra stuff. 

The gang suggests going out for a late lunch, but as you prove by gesturing to your own questionably mismatched outfit, you’d originally hoped you could take today as a laundry day. It's too late to start now, though; with the sheer amount you've got to get through, it's a full-day devotion, and now that you're all ramped up from the day's events, there's no possible way you could focus on something as mundane as washing your clothes. Instead, you all order in and pass time with some games while Ralph happily strums away in the background. 

You occasionally pick up on him singing lyrics such as, “It’s easy to see yourself / through a negative lens / but it’s certainly harder / when surrounded by friends” and feel yourself welling up. As if the fact that he had changed into your favourite sweater of his, the blue mohair one that Connor had written that extra-cheesy joke about in Ralph’s profile, wasn’t enough to make your heart soar. He looks the very epitome of comfort right now. 

Then Ralph gets a notification. He’s got a match! He’s thrilled, bragging about how the app found his ideal match immediately, when Connor had been talking about being on it for several years by now. The rest of the group explain that Tinder is not a matchmaking service in the sense that he thinks, and that it simply means someone he’s swiped right on has done the same to him. Connor and Scott help him communicate in a succinct, non-Ralph way that allows him to quickly arrange a date for tomorrow. That knot in the depths of your stomach wrenches tighter, but you ignore it, for the sake of Ralph’s excitement. 

Connor encourages him to keep swiping still, in case he gets any more matches, and that way he can arrange even more dates! It takes Ralph a while to accustom to the modern world of dating, rather than just seeking out one person and “courting” them, as he would say, but he gets excited at the prospect of going out on dates. He doesn’t mention anything about any more matches, but he does lock himself in the bathroom for some time. You know that usually means he’s talking to his girl gang about important things; ever since that first night out, Ralph’s convinced himself that the only place to have a deep conversation with his new friends is anywhere that there’s a toilet, and quite frankly, the notion is too hilarious for you to correct him. Plus it gives him a little privacy, and you definitely don’t want him to keep relying on you for the entire duration of his stay in this era. 

That night, as you lay out on your sofa, wondering if your back will ever get used to a mattress again, you notice one particular notification buried amongst the others: 

Tinder Someone has Super Liked you! Find out who. 

You admittedly hadn’t been swiping for a hot minute, yourself - you’ve been somewhat preoccupied with a whole new flatmate to worry about - but since it was the topic of the day, you figure you’ll bite. A few ordinary profiles show up, but none of them take your fancy. Even the cute ones, their bios are just so… Dry . And then you see it. The profile that Super Liked you, the blue border perfectly coordinating with the artwork that hangs on the wall behind you. 

~~~ 

The following morning, Ralph awakens earlier than usual. He’s excited about his date tonight, and still conflicted about something else that had happened last night. He looks through the group chat app again to remind himself of his friends’ advice: 

If you don’t say anything about it, neither will Ralph, but if you do, then it’s time to sit down and discuss these feelings like the adults you both are. That’s what he tells himself. 

Ralph takes a deep breath before opening the door from the bedroom into the main part of the flat. You’re in the kitchen area, finishing off your breakfast with a duffel bag full of clothes resting on the counter. It appears that almost all of your clothes must be in there, since you’ve resorted to wearing one of Ralph’s most favourite T-shirts that he’d picked out himself. The way that it fits your form so differently to Ralph captivates him into silence, and the fact that it almost covers your pyjama shorts entirely feels so scandalous to him. He has to stop looking, or else his mind will wander to uncouth places, but he just can’t . 

Not until you catch his eyesight and groan as you roll your own eyes at him. “Morning, Ralph! Don’t worry, I’ll make myself “decent” now that you’re out, I think I’ve got some yoga pants shoved in the back of the wardrobe from that one New Year when I was convinced I would join the gym,” your voice disappears as you walk past him and shut the door behind you. 

Ralph makes himself some cereal, once again telling himself that he has to stop living in this secret. Especially if he’s to pursue other people. 

You re-emerge from the bedroom, now wearing bottoms that cover your entire legs, but they may as well not at all be, with how little they leave to the imagination. You ask, “Oh yeah, by the way, did you… Happen to find my profile on Tinder last night? Because I think you must have swiped up instead of left, and Super Liked me by accident.” 

“Accident!” Ralph exclaims hurriedly, squeezing his eyes shut and open again, and clenching and releasing his fist repeatedly, desperate to change his focus onto anything else. “Yes, that's entirely what that was, I’m so glad we cleared that up! Aha! I suppose I should get ready for my date now!” 

You frown, “That’s not for hours yet, and Scott said he’d take you to get ready while I - don't forget your cereal!” You call out after him as he rushes back into the bathroom but the door closes behind him before you can finish your sentence. You write on the whiteboard that you keep on your fridge that you’re going to be at the laundromat for most of the day doing your laundry, but that Scott is arriving at 12 o’clock to take him out clothes shopping and to help him get ready, as you’ll be busy. You leave him your bank card to take with him on his big date, and wish him well before heading out of the door. 

Ralph rests his phone against the bathroom wall, goes onto the only group he trusts himself to keep on WhatsApp and hits the video call button before immediately pacing the room. One by one, his friends pick up, all asking various questions. 

“What happened?”

“Did you talk about it?”

“Are you okay?”

“Did you have an argument?”

Ralph blinks harshly again, his arms gesticulating with a deliberate wildness to them. “You all remember that the plan was, say nothing unless I’m spoken to, and then tell the truth, no matter what?” 

“Yeah…”

“Well, I may have been… Distracted. And I may have shouted that it was an accident and ran into here.” 

“Oh, babe, you didn’t.”

“Ralph!”

“We had a plan, hun! We mapped it all out!”

“I know, I know!” Ralph holds his hands on top of his head. “I was so ready, I was telling myself the plan over and over, and then… Well, it’s so-called laundry day, and I’ve had more time to get mine done and so my clothes were the only clean ones and -” 

“Oof, god, yeah. Once you see your crush wearing your clothes, it is game over.”

“Oh, Ralphie, what are we gonna do with you?”

“Well, the damage has been done, now. It’s probably best to just… I guess, either try and get over how you’re feeling, or wait until another opportunity arises. If it does.”

“Yeah, honestly, babes, I’d say cut your losses for the day and focus on your big date tonight, that’s so exciting for you!”

“Oh my god, you’re gonna tell us everything, aren’t you?”

Ralph sighs, rubs his eyes and puts on a small smile. “Yes, of course I will. Thank you all for being my voices of reason, I do appreciate you.” 

“Anytime, my lovely. Now, tell us all about this date. Where is it you’re going?”

“Well, Scott knows the location, but apparently it’s some kind of cocktail bar that plays swing and jazz and all the music that I like! I do hope there’ll be dancing,” he places his elbow on the sink to rest his head wistfully onto his fist, to an adoring chorus from the girls. They all sign off, wishing Ralph the best, and he hangs up, too. Right, Penbury, he tells himself, there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve messed up one more avenue of your love life, let’s not let it ruin another. 

Instead, he focuses on his date tonight. He knows the exact look he wants to go for. And so, despite the comments he gets on how nice he looks, he just can’t justify having facial hair with such a smart outfit in mind. 

Scott almost doesn’t recognise him, and calls Ralph “baby face” all day. It’s not his favourite nickname, but he’s been called worse. Scott helps him to pick out a nice suit with a bow tie - Scott had had the audacity to suggest Ralph wear a neck tie, for crying out loud - that Ralph liked because it reminded him of a suit he had back at home. Light tan in colour, with pinstripes down it. Just like his everyday going out suit. Scott had turned his nose up at it, but had admitted that “vintage” isn’t his style, anyway. Ralph had wanted to get a straw boater to really complete the look, but Scott wouldn't let him wear it past taking a photo. 

Ralph gets ready at Scott’s apartment, a little more upscale than the flat, but he shares it with his partner. Ralph had only met him a few times, but he was always absolutely besotted with everything Ralph had to say, and Ralph couldn’t deny that he loved the attention. It was always Victoria that everyone wanted. But not here. People know the name Ralph here. Not The Penbury Boy, not Victoria’s Brother, or That Other One. Not Creepy Stalker. Just Ralph. 

Scott and his partner help preen Ralph for his big night out at Ralph’s request, but they both audibly groan when he teaches them the hairstyle his old staff would give him - though of course, he omitted the involvement of any “staff” from his explanation. 

“First the beard, and now you want me to gel down the curls? You’re killing me here, Ralphie. Literally taking years off my life,” Scott frowns as he pats down Ralph’s hair. 

“I shall remember you fondly,” Ralph jokes, making Scott’s partner laugh. 

“Rude!” Scott scoffs jokingly. “You’ve spent too much time with that flatmate of yours.” 

Ralph’s heart still sinks thinking about his blunder this morning. Instead, he goes back to teasing Scott by composing an obituary as he styles his hair for him. 

After a few final looks in the mirror, Ralph feels as though he’s gone back in time, as though the last 6 weeks had never happened. Another wave of sadness befalls him at that thought, but he pushes it aside. His nerves are a calling card for any negativity to overwhelm him, and he was determined to have a good time. 

Scott walks him to the bar and waits outside with him until someone recognises him. As an extra measure to protect him from any radical internet followers, Scott borrows Ralph's phone to corroborate that he's definitely meeting his date, returns the phone back to Ralph with the reminder to ring you first and him second if anything happens, and bids the pair adieu. 

Once he's gone, Ralph greets his companion for the evening by taking her hand and gently dusting her knuckles with his lips. She looks him up and down strangely, turning her nose up as she pulls back her hand slowly. Ralph could do the same, she certainly isn’t dressed for the occasion, but he won’t, because he’s a gentleman.

She does try to make the effort to get to know Ralph, at first. Making small talk about how he came to this part of London, he tells her he was simply looking to get away from his old life. She asks him what he does for a living, and seems to judge him again for saying that he was yet to find employment. 

She lets him buy her a martini, despite him having ordered that with the intention of drinking it. She seemed to already be judging him for potentially ordering that drink for himself, so he ordered one of the only other drinks he knows that he likes - a double whiskey and lemonade, courtesy of Scott himself. She doesn’t seem to disapprove, at least. 

Barely anybody in this place seems to be in the spirit of things. They’re all just standing. Talking. There’s a very sweet older couple in the corner who are dancing away, that Ralph watches wistfully. He gestures over to them, looking at his date. “Rather lovely,” he notes. “Do you dance, at all?” 

“Not like that,” she shakes her head. 

“Would you like me to show you?” He asks excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

She rubs her arm awkwardly. “I’m good, thanks. Nobody else is doing it, it’d be weird if we started.” 

“Right. Right, of… Of course it would,” Ralph falters, dejected. 

“I need to use the ladies’ room,” his date states plainly. 

Ralph nods, “Of course, I shall be waiting right here!” 

As she walks away from him, Ralph decides he can still smooth things over by buying her another drink. He buys himself another double whiskey lemonade, for liquid courage, and the lady another martini, and returns to the spot he promised he’d wait for her. 

And he waits. 

And he waits. 

He sips his drink. 

And he waits. 

When he finally turns around to ask a member of staff to check on her, he’s met with many a sympathetic look. Ralph may not know a lot about dating in the modern age, but he knows that look when he sees it a mile off. Downing both the whiskey mix and the martini, he finds a quiet corner and takes out his phone. 

~~~ 

You’d been a fool for going to the laundromat in October with just Ralph’s T-shirt and a light jacket on. Being in a heated building means nothing if the front door is being left open all the damn time. Checking the time on your machines, you deduce that you just about have enough time to drive back, very quickly grab an extra layer and drive back. 

Rushing into your flat, you look around for anything that you could throw on that’s within arm’s reach. Nothing in the living area. Nothing in the kitchen area. Nothing in the bathroom. Desperate, you burst into the bedroom and you see it.

You’ve loved that blue jumper of Ralph’s from the moment you’d first seen it on him. You’d called it his Cookie Monster jumper, though of course that went over his head. It’s always looked so soft, and he’s forever burying his face in his arms when he wears it. It’s sickeningly adorable to be around. You’ve always wished you could experience its comfort for yourself, but Ralph would never let it out of his sight, and you very rarely get the opportunity to offer Ralph a hug without it potentially causing any more confusion in the nature of your friendship with him; certainly never so while he has ever worn the jumper. 

And so you jump at the chance to finally experience it for yourself. Throwing it on, not only are you immediately comforted with the soft sensation against your skin, but a familiar smell wafts around you. The ultimate makeup of the olfactory cocktail that is Ralph Penbury’s signature smell. 

You wonder how he’s getting on as you rush back out to your car. Whether he’s picked his outfit or if Scott’s moulded him in his own image. Whether he’s excited, scared, confident. Whether he plans on kissing her at the end of the night. 

You hit the steering wheel with the heel of your hand. Why are you worrying about these things? You never do when Connor, Grace or Anna go out. Perhaps it’s because you’re so used to being on 24/7 Ralph alert that not having him around keeps you on edge. But he’s bound to go home soon. And then you’ll be in this Ralph-less void all the time. That’s far, far worse a fate. And yet, cruelly, it’s the inevitable one. 

You make it just in time for the washing machine to chime. Throwing your clothes into the industrial sized dryer, you sit and scroll through your phone. You check the numbers of Ralph’s last Instagram photo, and end up reading through the comments from all of his little fans. None of them know that he could disappear off of social media at a moment’s notice. 

Except, now he could never truly disappear. Whenever he goes back, whenever his fifteen minutes of internet fame are up, he’s left his permanent mark on the world. On you, your friends, even all these people. Though they only see Ralph superficially. They see his photos, and his twitter presence, and they think they know him, especially since he learned how to reply to people when they would ask him questions. Sure, they know that he prefers strawberry ice cream, and that his favourite Gilmore Girls character is Paris, but they don’t know that he ties his shoes with bunny ears. They don't get to see that no matter how wild his bed hair is in the morning, one curl always falls across his forehead. They don’t know that he smells like citrus with an extra whiff of cinnamon. 

You bury your face beneath the sweater you’re wearing and breathe in deeply. An elderly woman looks at you fondly, and you bring yourself back to reality, sitting upright and switching to a puzzle game on your phone instead. You're already fooling yourself with these delusions of imagining a life where Ralph's a more permanent fixture. You can't be letting the locals believe it, too. That's just for you. 

Once your laundry's dry, you quickly fold it as neat as you can back into the bag you'd brought with you and throw the bag into the back of your car. Once you’re home, you just can’t find the energy to unpack it all. And besides, putting it away in your bedroom furniture only means you have access to it whenever Ralph isn’t there. Perhaps it’s better to keep these clothes out here in the living room, anyway. 

You laugh to yourself as you go to the kitchen to find enough things to cook together to make a decent meal. If you’d have been told 3 months ago that in the very near future, you’d be living out of a bag, sleeping on your own sofa, all for the sake of a man that you’d just met, you’d have never believed them. And yet, here you are. 

Once your food is made, you settle on your sofa and find something new to watch - because heaven forbid you watch one of your ongoing series without Ralph, he’d be giving you the silent treatment for the rest of the night. 

You wonder how his evening is going. He should be at the bar by now. No word from Scott, though you wouldn’t exactly expect him to check in with you about Ralph’s date. Although perhaps a photo in the group chat wouldn’t have gone amiss. No word from Ralph, either. 

You’re rooting for the iguana on your screen to outrun the predators that chase it, despite David Attenborough commentating his lack of faith, and it’s just escaped a tight bind as your phone rings. A particular jarring photo of your flatmate smiling his animatronic-esque fake smile fills your screen, along with the word “rALPH”. 

You answer, “This better be an emergency, I’m on high alert right now.” 

“Alert? In what way?”

“I’ve got an iguana I’m trying to save from some killer snakes, it’s life or death here, Ralphie.” 

“Ah, right! You’re watching one of those programmes about nature again.”

“Everything alright? You sound… Sad.” 

“Yes, well…”

“How’s your date going?” 

“It, um… It rather isn’t.”

“What?!” 

“She - She told me she was going to the women’s room. Approximately forty minutes ago.”

“Oh, Ralph. You should have called sooner!" 

“And this place is nothing like I had thought it would be, nobody is giving it the respect it deserves, I’m the only one appropriately dressed and yet somehow I am the one who sticks out like a sore thumb!”

“Okay, okay, it’s alright, mate. Get to the toilet, get yourself all sorted out, I'm on my way. Make sure you’re in the right one this time, too!” 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Oh, I know I am. I’ll be there as soon as I can, alright?” 

While you’re still not quite ready to say goodbye to the sweater just yet, you do fish out a far nicer lower half of an outfit to go with it, before heading out the door and following Google Maps’ directions to this bar. 

When you enter, you look around trying to find your friend. The first scan yields no results. Neither does the second. You’re about to take your phone out to call him again when you notice a very sad, very baby-faced Ralph talking to a bartender. He looks just like he did when you first met him - without the coffee you’d spilled over his back, of course. 

You speed your pace up as you head towards him, and he doesn’t even notice you approaching until you pat his arm. He looks close to tears when he makes eye contact with you, and you immediately pull him into a hug. That clean, citrusy scent of his gets stronger as he wraps himself around you. When you start to relent, he doesn’t. With a small chuckle of defeat, you return to hugging him tightly again. 

Eventually he lets go, and so you do as well, rubbing his arm comfortingly as you pull away. “You look dapper,” you comment, “really smart.” 

Ralph wrinkles his nose up as he waves you off, “It’s… Really not as appropriate here as I thought.” 

“Codswallop!” You grin, putting on your best Ralph voice, which makes him smile, too. “Best dressed one here, hands down.” 

“I do seem to be a style icon of yours,” he muses, poking at the sweater. “It’s very becoming on you.” 

“Thanks, Ralphie,” you smile, trying desperately not to blush. Instead, you pull the sleeves over your hands and ask, “You still got my card?” He nods and fumbles through his pockets to grab it and hand it to you. You lean over the bar to order two of your usual drink, and one martini for Ralph. 

The bartender hisses through their teeth. “You sure? He’s already had one along with the others, he doesn’t seem in a good place to be mixing his drinks too much tonight.” 

You frown, “Oh, then sure, whatever he’s been having, get him another one of those.” 

You smile at the impact Scott’s clearly had on Ralph with his change in drink choice. Clinking your glass with his, you finish both of your drinks in the time he finishes his one, to try and catch up with him. 

As he swills the remaining ice cubes around the bottom of his glass, a high-energy song starts to play. You grin as you outstretch your hand, “Wanna put our kitchen dance lessons to the test with me?” 

Ralph looks at you sceptically, but his excitement is palpable. “Oh, heavens, we’d be the only ones dancing!” 

You shrug, “So? We’d be the only ones doing it right, everyone else would be the weird ones.” 

Ralph nods, “Very well,” and takes your hand. You don’t see it as you’re leading him to the dance floor area, but he’s putting all his energy into not looking completely giddy with happiness. 

The two of you dance together for several songs, swinging and twirling and laughing away. You nudge Ralph to show him that you’d even inspired some other coupl- other pairs of people , you correct yourself, not wanting to slip up and accidentally refer to yourself and Ralph as a couple in front of him. Other pairs of people are now dancing just like you two were. Ralph looks around in awe just as the music slows considerably. 

He looks at you with uncertainty, squeezing his eyes and his hands as he does when he’s conflicted or trying to correct himself, though he’s yet to say anything to you. “May I - I mean, we - would you like to - we could stop now, if you like, or -” 

You cut Ralph off by placing your hands on his shoulders. He places his ever so tentatively on your hips as you sway from side to side together. “Thank you,” he mutters to you. 

“Well, you seemed close to having a stroke over getting your words out, figured I had a good shot at guessing what you wanted before I had to call for help!” 

He chuckles softly, “Not just for that. For… Everything, really. Over the last two months. I really haven’t shown you the proper gratitude.” 

“I’ve not been keeping you around for gratitude’s sake, Ralph,” you shake your head. “You’re not that bad to be around, you know,” you smirk. “I’m sorry that girl didn’t see that in you. But I’m proud of you for trying!” 

“I don’t think I want to try much more,” he tells you quietly. 

“Don’t blame you. I gave up a while ago, myself,” you admit. “But you did it! I bet the Ralph I first met wouldn’t have done this.” 

“I am quite the changed man, thanks to you,” he says with a small smile. 

“You sure don’t look it at the moment! I don’t know who this is, but I’m looking forward to getting Ralph back when we’re home.” 

He frowns, “But this is how I always looked before I met you!” 

“I know, but it just doesn’t… Suit you. Not like your new look. I mean, I guess if you go back in time looking like The New Ralph, everyone back there would think otherwise, but… I dunno,” you shrug your shoulders. “This doesn’t feel like the real Ralph.” Recalling a conversation you’d had with him a couple of weeks ago about how he was perceived back in his time, you add, “This is just That Penbury Boy.” 

“I like that you all see a side of me that you don’t mind having around,” Ralph admits bashfully. “And I like spending time with you - all.” 

“We love having you around too,” you grin. “But I am being serious, I’ll hold your head under the bathroom sink here if we don’t get that shit washed out of your hair soon.” 

Ralph laughs, stepping out of the hold to extend his arm out to you. You take it and walk out of the building with him. 

You laugh at the ooh! that comes out from him as you step out into the brisk air. “Yeah, all that whiskey finally kicking in?” You ask with amusement. 

Ralph shakes his head, blowing a raspberry sound out into the air. “Just a tad!” 

“I’m excited to see what Whiskey Ralph is like,” you muse, still keeping your arm around his as you lead him down the street. 

He frowns, “Are there different versions of me based on what I drink?!” 

“Different versions of Drunk Ralph, yeah,” you grin. “Martini Ralph is super sociable. Vodka Ralph, an emotional wreck. We stay away from vodka,” you warn, and he nods, remembering the shot he had taken weeks ago and shuddering again. “And from what you’ve told me, Champagne Ralph really loved to party.” 

“Oh, I do so wish you could have been there for a Penbury social!” Ralph muses. “They were always such a blast to plan. I just… Sometimes I wish that Victoria let me be the “main event” host rather than the “planning” one.” 

“Well, when you go back, you can down a couple of martinis, tell her to shove it, and then throw the greatest bash Penbury House will see before it gets filled with tote bag-carrying indie kids and grandmas hiding romance novels between murder mysteries,” you laugh, though it’s strained. You know it’s only fair to make sure you’re both still actively talking about him returning home, but that doesn’t make it sting any less. 

Ralph gives you a small smile, “I’m not so sure about that. I think it’s far more than a few drinks that make me the man that I am while I’m here.” The way he bites his lip back bashfully would have you holding him by the cheeks and kissing it back, were you a couple more drinks in. He quietens after that, and you simply allow him to stay in that moment rather than pressing him as to what exactly he means. 

Once you’re back home once again, you change back into comfortable pants while Ralph washes his hair under the shower. You also finally look at your phone’s notifications to see a lot of activity in the group chat: 

Ralph re-emerges wearing another jumper and some sweats, but instead of sitting at his usual spot on the other end of the sofa to you, he sits far nearer and leans himself onto you. “Hello,” he greets simply, a dopey grin smeared across his face. 

You cock your head as you smile softly at him. “Hello, cuddly-drunk Whiskey Ralph.” 

“Is that what it is?” He asks, his voice slurring a little. “Do you mind?” 

“Nah, just give me my arm back,” you tease as you move so that your arm is no longer trapped beneath him, instead draping it where it’s most comfortable - which just happens to be over his body. 

You show Ralph the things everyone has been saying in the group chat, and he smiles into your torso. "Can I expect this jumper back any time soon, by the way?"

You grin down at him, "Yeah, you can have it back when it stops smelling like you. It's too nice to give up."

His ears burn pink as he gently settles further down until his head rests in your lap. “Do you want to see if your iguana made it out safely?” 

“Oh, yeah! Here, I’ll restart the episode for you, I need you to care about this lizard as much as I do.” 

Commentating alongside the documentary with Ralph proves a far more entertaining watch than before, and you both cheer as you watch the iguana finally climb up some rocks to the safety of its friend. At some point, your fingers end up absent-mindedly stroking back and forth through his hair, and you notice his chest starting to heave up and down heavier than usual. Leaning over, you see his lower lip move in and out ever so slightly with each breath as he sleeps. He looks so peaceful, and you could honestly keep him here forever. But, realistically, you can’t feel your legs and your body will certainly be unforgiving over you sleeping while sat upright. 

You gently prod at Ralph all over until he wakes up. “Hmm, what?” 

“Eh, what, what,” you tease, once again putting on your ‘posh voice’ before returning to your usual cadence. “C’mon, if you’re gonna sleep, go do it in a bed, please.” 

“Of course,” he mumbles wearily. 

When he stands up, you realise something with a laugh. “Oh, no! Oh, I’ve done a real number on your hair, look at it!” 

Ralph reaches up and pats his wildly spread curls with a sleepy smile. He faces you, then turns to the bedroom door, then back to you. He repeats this a few times, and just before you can ask, he shakes his head. “Goodnight. Sleep well.” 

“You too, Ralphie,” you grin as you push yourself around by your fists to lay across the sofa for the night. 

When you wake up, Ralph is yet again trending on Twitter. Wondering what on earth he could have done, you’re horrified when you see paparazzi-ish photos of Ralph with you as you both danced last night. The original tweet with the photos going around has the caption, “Pack it up, girlies, Hot Ralph is taken” 

Making sure your current account is most definitely still set to private, you make a new one under the name @RalphsFlatmate. You tweet an old selfie of you and Ralph with the caption, “hi, ralph stans. just here to remind you that sometimes people can be just friends and that’s it. please don’t take my photo without my consent in future. kinda insane that i have to ask that but here we are. cheers x” 

Once Ralph is awake, you borrow his phone to retweet yourself onto his profile to make sure people see it and get ready for work, dreading what is now to come with also being perceived on the internet. 

next chapter

[stuckytoyoulikeglue]

I've been wanting to get my thoughts on Steve's ending off my chest for literal years and I read something earlier that finally prompted me to write it all down.

This is entirely my own, personal, biassed opinion.

I do not want a fight. Or even a 'healthy debate', if I'm being honest.

If you don't agree, that's cool, just move along, nothing to see here.

Please don't be mean, I'm a delicate flower and I can't take it.

So... Like most of the people I've come across in my preferred branch of the fandom, I didn't love Steve's ending.

Unlike a lot of people, I didn't actually have a problem with the end result, just the motivation behind it.

Chris was done, Steve needed to be written out, Tony founded the universe and deserved to be its ultimate saviour, so the best case scenario was to give Steve a happy ending. I'm glad he got a happy ending. I love him, I wanted him to be happy.

But...

The exact same story arc, only without it being his choice, would still have given him the happy ending that Marvel presumably wanted for him. It would have given him the girl that got away, and the chance to finally live the life that he thought he'd lost, and all without betraying his character.

I still think it was incredibly dumb not to leave him trapped in the past (and making the most of it) after returning the stones, rather than having him choose to walk away (from everything, but especially Bucky, no matter how you see their relationship), but one thing that I keep seeing posts about (some joking, but most not), that I do not get at all, is why so many people seem to think that everything else would have played out exactly the same, just with him as Peggy's hubby instead of the man she married in the MCU timeline (I'm not debating here whether that was Daniel or not).

Yes, Steve's character was damaged by his choice to walk away, but he's still Steve. He wouldn't have sat idly by and watched Hydra sink its claws into the SHIELD Peggy was building in front of him. He wouldn't have just left Bucky to stew in Siberia. We don't even know if he actually put down the shield for any real length of time.

After all, he didn't return to pass it on to Sam until he was an old man, and the shield he passed along was a different shield. Maybe it was a new one that was made for him after his old one was lost to the ice, maybe he had it made specially to give to Sam, who knows? But what we do know as a result, is that whatever happened in his new timeline, it was not the same as what happened in ours.

Personally I choose to believe that Bucky lives next door, the Starks come round for tea most weeks, and everyone just dotes on ickle baby Tony, not least his dad. They're still in touch with the rest of the Howlies, though they don't get to see them as often as they'd like, and ideally Zola is rotting in a cell somewhere.

Admittedly, I'm not sure what I reckon happened to the original Steve from that timeline. Maybe he didn't survive the ice, maybe they defrosted him early and the two Steves started a rota for playing Cap so they both get a chance to actually have a life in between punching bad guys. Maybe he's living in sin with Bucky, pretending he's our Steve's identical twin brother if anyone ever sees them both at the same time. It doesn't really matter.

My point is that damn near anything could have happened in that new, mysterious universe, because the only certainty we have is that it was exactly like ours until Steve went 'back' to it, and it was definitely not the same as ours from that point on.

Butterfly effect and all, Steve's mere existence guarantees that it's different and, as I already mentioned, the shield that he gives Sam provides concrete proof of it.

Of course, I'm not saying things necessary played out any better. Maybe SHIELD didn't fall, but the governments of the world did. Maybe Steve saved Bucky only for him to be hit by a bus mere weeks after he brought him home to Brooklyn. But in no world did Steve sit there casually tossing a salad while fully aware that his brainwashed best friend was off to murder the president.

That is all (for now).

PS. I love Peggy. I'm still miffed they cancelled Agent Carter. I don't think having her marry Steve in an alternate timeline takes anything away from who she was or what she built in ours. Her legacy is entirely intact in our world, and in another world she was doubtlessly equally kickass, she just got to have Steve too.

[drdemonprince]

could you tell us about your experience with mushrooms? I've tried it many times, and I feel like it hasn't changed anything for me (though i had no expectations), but maybe i was "doing it wrong"

I posted about it a couple weeks back, so you can scroll thru for that, but it didn't do much for me. I felt high like I was on weed, I danced in a warehouse for a while, which was as pleasant as it always is substances or no, I went outside and the grass and leaves were shimmering, my friend drove me in their car and we listened to Bjork and it was very pretty and moving to watch the sunlight glisten on the skyscrapers and the lake, I felt a sense of peace and certainty in living here being an immense gift that I should cement by establishing more permanent roots here, housing wise, and then we went to the beach to watch a drag show and i drank a bubble tea and felt relaxed and good. later in the evening, mostly sober watching children's dog movies of the 90s like All Dogs Go to Heaven, I got kind of emotional. but nothing beyond my normal range of possible feeling. i was depressed the next day, sad like a forlorn child in a manageable way. i was irritable and pissy the next few days, desperately craving my own space and quiet, which used to happen a few years ago when i was in a worse living situation and place in my life. it felt like backsliding. i was annoyed that i felt that way. it stayed like that for a few days. now a couple weeks later im basically the same, but a little more resolute about some changes that i want to make. i feel like a serious adult man. if anything it just got me to where i was mentally heading a little bit faster.

sometimes the shrooms have something to teach you, my friend blair says, and sometimes they don't. while i was high in the car listening to bjork, i turned inward and asked the mushrooms, "hey guys, whats going on? what do i need to know, if anything?" and they said to me (im speaking metaphorically here) "you already know exactly what is going on in your life. you know what you're good at and what you want, and you know what has been persistently making you upset. youve made certain decisions about how to navigate the difficult things in your life, and you have an accurate gauge of what the costs of that are. not much else to say. you know what's going on." and i was like "bet." i didn't hallucinate, i had no big revelations, and i probably wouldnt do it again for a very long time because the come down sucked for me.

people overhype what substances can do for you, a lot of the time. it's just a tool. it can be fun. it can give you diarrhea. it can make you cry, and maybe that's good. it's not a solution to your problems it's just another problem but some problems are worth it in your own risk cost calculus etc.

and i find that many autistic people just aren't all that impacted by substances like allistics are. we're so reflexive at masking that our impulse may be to maintain composure and level headedness at all times. i was pretty sober after anesthesia too. i often wish that substances would give me some grand feeling of release, but once the drug hits my system all i want is to remain in control, as i always do. there's an infamous story about a guy who the CIA tested acid tabs on, who didn't hallucinate or act funny after like 30 consecutive doses. he just seemed normal. it turned out he was at baseline absolutely consumed with debilitating anxiety. so being super fucking high just gave him something to direct his hyperanalytical system's attention to. i hope someone reading this will remember this account and provide a link, im not being super precise. but. there's something about that experience that i relate to. ive never been out of control on any substance. i always seem pretty lucid, maybe a little sillier or more tired but even those things feel like a choice.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

You WILL Have my Herbs 04

Diluc / Reader

Previous Chapters: Chp 1 | Chp 2 | Chp 3 | Chp 4 | Chp 5 | Chp 6

Read the Full Story on Ao3 | Tumblr MasterList Here (Maybe even leave me a comment please? :3< )

Summary: Listen you just wanted to pick some plants, do some experiments, find some cures, and report back to your mentor. Unfortunately a handsome vigilante puts you in his debt and now you have to fight him to let you make it up to him.

Chapter 4: There Will Always be SOME Weeds to Deal With

For someone who did not care to cover your tracks, you were quite difficult to track. Diluc had spent the better part of a week trying to locate you. 

A puzzling thing really given he’d managed to track down significantly more covert operatives and operations in around the same amount of time. How you were eluding him, when he didn’t think you were actively trying to, would be hilarious if it wasn’t so frustrating.

It hadn’t taken him long to deduce that much of the new, increasingly refreshing, teas , salves, and bathing solutions that his staff were offering him came from you . You were… persistent …he’d give you that. He could state with certainty that he’d been receiving many of your remedies for the time that he’d been defending Mondstadt against the latest attacks. So a month at the very least. Though who’s to say his staff hasn’t been secretly sneaking them in for longer?

How you managed to convince his butler of all people to consider your blends…then again you’d always been rather sincere with him. Suspiciously so, given he didn’t remember saving you. However your following him into the domain, and slaving over making remedies for himself and the people of Mondstadt made it clear you were simply that: a sincerely overenthusiastic apothecary. With seemingly exceptional stealth.

He had questioned his staff with regards to your location, both Adelinde and his trusted butler did point him towards where you’d made camp temporarily following your return from the domain, however you weren’t there. If there weren’t clear traces of someone having made a camp there, he’d have thought he was sent on a wild goose chase. 

His staff had pointed him towards Springvale then. The last time you’d been spotted there, according to the locals, was a few days before his own arrival. A knight, in hopes of being helpful, mentioned that you’d likely be in Mondstadt, as you were providing knights with remedies too.

Though he did not like nor did he particularly trust the knights, a lead was a lead. You could be back in Mondstadt, likely getting healed and assisting there. It was not too far from Springvale and many merchants traveled between the two to deliver goods, so you could hitch a ride if you were tired.

You were not in Mondstadt. 

He’d figured that out almost instantly. Kaeya had wasted little time in coming to visit the Angels Share now that he’d come to work the bar temporarily. The nuisance had complained about a dreadful headache and how he wished a foreign apothecary might provide him with a remedy. Before finally getting to the point and asking if Diluc had seen her, as he did seem to be her favorite patient. 

Tricky as Kaeya was, his exaggerated dramatics implied he likely didn’t know where you were either. Or that he did and wouldn’t be telling him should he show interest. 

Diluc was not in the mood for such puzzles.

And what did he mean by “ favorite patient ?”

Though it turned out that Kaeya’s theatrics were, in fact, driven by his lack of intel as Jean hadn’t seen you either.

Diluc had asked after you privately when Jean was off the clock. The diligent lady seemed puzzled by the inquiry, before becoming concerned. She confirmed that you’d been providing remedies for the knights. Considering the timeframe you would have been producing the remedies for the knights at the same time you’d been providing them for him.

Diluc almost regretted asking his old friend as her brow pinched in worry. She could only hope you hadn’t been attacked in the wild trying to forage for ingredients for their treatments. Diluc, however, wondered if like Jean, you’d overworked yourself to the point of collapse. When she promised to look into the matter, he told her not to worry herself too much.

That was wishful thinking, he knew it was. As was proven to him the next day, when she came to visit him the tavern saying she’d asked the Favonius Librarian about it. His confusion must have shown on his face, because Jean smiled gently and told him that you were well acquainted with the witch, so if anyone was likely to hear from you it was her.

According to Jean, Lisa highly recommended searching Starsnatch Cliff. You’d been wanting to harvest some cecilias and valberries to experiment with.

He didn’t imagine you’d be able to make it that far with the injury you had sustained. Though when a sweep of the nearby areas yielded no results, he found himself considering it. 

Starsnatch Cliff was a ways away from the winery and there was neither hide nor hair of you there. It was starting to become concerning. Had you just disappeared? Perhaps he should use his expansive reconnaissance network?

Thankfully he didn't have to. After a little over a week of searching he had the pleasure of practically being told where you were. A pair of children from Springvale had come by to deliver soap and other things to Adelinde while also collecting some containers from her.

Which meant you were somewhere around Springvale. A little bit of surveillance revealed that you were not only near Springvale, you were staying with one of the delivery kids’ families.

He’d been here already. How had he missed this?

“You know, for someone who does not care to cover their tracks, you are quite difficult to locate,” was what he’d said when he finally met with you again.

You’d sprung a few feet into the air at his voice, dropping your plants. “M-master Diluc!” Your surprise was not out of place. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Though he couldn’t help but wonder if you really had been avoiding him.

Especially with how you stood stiff as a wooden plank awaiting his response. He let out a tired exhale.

“Were you hiding from me perhaps?” He quirked a brow at you.

Ah. Seems like you had if your expression was anything to go by. 

“I- no?” You looked uncertain. “I’m not too sure?”

His brow pinched, “how so?”

“Well, I admit I have been a bit …apprehensive? To see you again,” he watched you curl in on yourself, looking away from him, “how…how have you been? Are you healing well?”

Diluc found a corner of lips quirking up despite himself, “apprehensive?”

You let out a sigh and the tension in your shoulders seemed to drop, “yes, I was anticipating yet another rejection.”

The tall man crossed his arms over his chest, “you mean now that you can no longer hide that the remedies my butler has been giving me come from you?”

Your expression was sheepish, “yes.”

He sighed. “I must admit, your remedies are much more effective than what I have used in the past,” he paused and continued when you glanced his way, “thank you.”

“Thank you too,” your smile was shyly elated, “it was my pleasure to be of help.”

A brief silence passed between the two of you. Birds chirped, the wind rustled some leaves, and children giggled and laughed as they played around.

“You didn’t answer me though,” you broke the momentary silence, “how have you been? Have you been healing well?”

“No need to concern yourself with me,” he paused, “I am doing well. If anything I should be the one to ask how you have been.”

“I mean you did all the fighting in that domain, I only tried my best to keep you alive.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t sustain injuries yourself.”

“Well, it wasn’t anything as bad as what you sustained,” you shrugged, “I’m doing alright, I’m a bit fatigued, but still alright thankfully.”

“And your shoulder?”

Your smile fell, “what about my shoulder?”

“I recall you took an arrow to your shoulder,” he gestured towards where he remembered the injury was.

“Your staff was kind enough to help me remove it and deal with it, though it likely will scar,” you smiled sardonically before lighting up, “I suppose that would look rather cool though! I haven’t had a battle scar before!”

You paused as he raised an eyebrow at you. “As you might imagine haha,” you chuckled embarrassedly.

“Yes, well, I would hope that would be the last one you acquire here in Mondstadt,” Diluc’s voice took a stern tone.

“As would I,” you agreed immediately, “I am not interested in purchasing new clothing, and I am not so skilled as to continue mending my clothes in a presentable way.”

Diluc felt his brows knit together. Had he heard that right?

“Am I to understand that you’re more concerned with your clothing remaining intact?”

Your expression was unbothered, “well, yes. It would be an extra expense to have to purchase more clothes. I’d rather spend that money on food or lodging.”

You were truly peculiar. Outlandish really. Was everyone from your homeland like this?

“Is your health of no concern to you?”

“It’s about as much a concern to me as it seems to be to you,” you smiled gently, lightheartedly.

He remained silent however and you grew antsy. As you were quick to follow up with an explanation.

“It’s not that I am not concerned with my health Master Diluc,” you exhaled as you hugged your plants closer to your chest, “however just as you wouldn’t let potentially dying deter you from protecting Mondstadt, I don’t want to let it prevent me from learning all that I can.”

That was…rather reasonable. Though your way of expressing it was strange.

“I remember you had taken a lot more damage than I had in the domain, according to what I heard from Miss Adelinde your wounds were rather grave,” you frowned, “I hope this visit didn’t cause you any exertion.”

Diluc found it in himself to be amused. Should he choose to inform you that he spent the better part of a fortnight searching for you, you would likely feel guilty. So he would spare you that unnecessary guilt. 

“Not at all.” Locating you had required some effort. This visit however did not. “I’m sure I caused you a lot more exertion with how you were actively providing remedies with an injury.”

“It was no problem,” you smiled openly, “I like to be of help to people. Especially those with heroic tendencies.”

He gave you a tired stare then and earned a truly amused laugh in return.

It seems your laughter alerted one of the children in the village and the young boy came running around the corner to see you.

“There you are!” The boy beamed when he found you. “I found this really pretty mushroom for you!”

“Oh! Thank you!” Your expression reflected your genuine excitement of receiving a new specimen. “I’ll be sure to put this to good use! Thanks again!”

The boy cast a look his way before pulling a hand from behind his back, “I-I also found this f-flower,” Diluc noted that the boy’s ears were very red as he offered you a sweet flower, “it’s really pretty!”

It was indeed. A perfect, wild, sweet flower in full bloom. You smiled appreciatively as you accepted it from him again, “thank you so much, that’s really thoughtful of you, I’ll be sure to make good use of this too.”

It seems you either completely missed what the boy’s real intentions were with the flower, or were purposely ignoring them. Regardless, your response was kind enough and the boy was young enough to not be discouraged. He shot another glance at Diluc, his bashful smile dropping into a scowl. The experienced bartender maintained his neutral expression.

“Mom also asked me to check and make sure you were doing okay,” his expression brightened immediately as he looked at you, “she says you shouldn’t be up and out for a long time after being sick for so long.”

Your eyes grow wide and when your gaze darted to meet his, the vigilant vigilante realizes you hadn’t intended to let him know about that. Your smile was less pleasant and more panicked when you looked back at the boy.

“I’m doing alright! I’m just here with a-uh,” you looked at Diluc for a moment, “acquaintance?” Your brow pinched and he gave you a small nod of agreement, “yes, acquaintance of mine. I’ll be coming in shortly.”

“Okay!” The boy bounced on his heels, before turning to Diluc. “You better not keep her too long, mister!”

With that he ran off in the direction he came from, leaving you with Diluc once again. The man turned his gaze back towards you, a brow already poised for an inquiry. He noted your demeanor had reverted to its initial apprehensive form.

“You were sick?” He asked.

“Yes,” you exhaled, your shoulders dropping slightly.

“So you were in Springvale to recuperate?”

“In a sense, yes.”

“In a sense?”

“It wasn’t my objective when coming here,” you grimaced, “I’d hoped to check in on the locals after the issue with the domain.”

“And then they ended up taking care of you instead?”

You hung your head, “yes.”

It was a while before you looked up at him again, lips set into a thin line, nervousness once again worrying your features, “uh Master Diluc,” you readjusted your grip on the plants you were holding again, “you haven’t mentioned my, uh, y’know, to anyone right?”

His brow furrowed again for a moment. Your…oh yes, your vision .

“No,” it was suspicious that you wished to keep it hidden though, “though I don’t understand why you’d want to keep it hidden.”

You opened your mouth before closing it and looked skywards. Shifting a bit, you shrunk a little, partially hiding behind your bundle of plants.

“Well, uh, you see, I, uh,” his frown sunk in as you seemed to either stall, or search for a way out of his question.

Perhaps you were hiding it from someone specific?

“Is there anyone in particular you don’t want to know about it?” When you shrunk even more behind your plants at his question, he realized he’d hit the bullseye. “Who?”

You looked incredibly sheepish, as you had for quite a bit of your conversation. You weren’t looking at him when you finally responded in a quiet voice, “Sir Kaeya.”

You were hiding it from Kaeya ? “ Why ?”

You pursed your lips together tightly, “well,” your voice took a mildly irritated tone, still not looking at him, “I get the feeling that the less he knows, the better. He’s already endlessly suspicious of me.”

Diluc found himself rather amused by the revelation. A small smile settled on his features. You were correct in your assumption, or perhaps it was an assessment, of Kaeya’s nature. However-

“He’s suspicious of you?” He couldn’t help the inquiry.

“Yes well when I first met him, it was the day after my first runin with an Abyss Mage,” you began explaining, “please allow me to place an emphasis on: first runin with an Abyss Mage, ever . In my life . First runin with an Abyss Mage in my life ,” you repeated it as though trying to make sure it sounded sensible to your ears, “this is the first time you saved my life by the way,” you added nodding at him, “thank you again for that, I still fully intend on repaying you for that.”

This again? The winery owner was about to inform you you’d more than repaid him for it with your recent assistance in the domain and afterward, however you kept going.

“I was very jittery for a while after that. So when I met Sir Kaeya by chance at Good Hunter, I jumped when he tried to talk to me,” perhaps, but that wouldn’t be enough to stir up Kaeya’s suspicion.

You seemed to be aware of that because you continued, “I guess he was suspicious of me because I’d never run into, seen, or heard of an Abyss Mage. Also I told him I tried to negotiate with it.”

“You tried to negotiate with an Abyss Mage?” The Pyro user couldn’t help but question.

Your expression soured then, “well I was visionless, couldn’t pull out my mini-saw, untrained in combat, and I did not want to die , so asking it to leave me be seemed like the most viable option.”

“You didn’t consider running?”

“Oh I did. I did that next,” you defended before smiling, “then I fell and that’s when you came in and saved me.”

“I see.”

It now made more sense as to why the captain was initially suspicious of you. However you had to have done something more.

There was yet another lull in the conversation. He noticed that you seemed to shift on your feet while looking around. You almost seemed to be considering things before you spoke again, “I’ve kept you standing this whole time,” your smile was apologetic, “would you like to find a place to sit?”

Ah, that explained the shifting on your part. “Yes let’s,” he obliged, noting your subtle relief.

You made to lead him towards a cliff when you were intercepted by a lady who seemed to be looking for you. You’d barely rounded a corner when you’d been snatched, her holding you by your elbows as she began smothering you.

Among the things the lady said, one was of particular interest to him: something about her saying some fresh air would be good, but she meant going out and sitting, not foraging plants and working! You’d only barely been able to have some semblance of a meal that wasn’t soup yesterday, and you couldn’t risk being bedridden with a fever again so soon.

She was continuing on with her scolding…affectionate…scolding? Tirade? Whatever. She was going on with all that when she finally remembered something of importance: yes it was what had brought her here! Michael had mentioned that some strange man was harassing you.

Ah. That must be the boy from earlier. There was a subtle resemblance to the boy, she was likely his mother. Before the lady could start surveying your surroundings you were quick to respond.

“There is no strange man harassing me,” you denied, “I am simply with an,” you paused, “acquaintance.”

That was when the lady finally acknowledged his presence. He saw the flash of recognition, as her concerned scowl melted away into mild horror. 

“Oh Master Diluc!” She released you immediately to give him her full attention. “Please forgive me for being rude earlier, I had no idea it was you that that silly son of mine was talking about!”

He shook his head, a polite smile taking his lips, “I don’t mind at all, I would have reacted similarly had I heard a strange man was accosting a person in my care.”

He noticed the amusement on your face in his peripheral vision.

“Well you surely weren’t accosting my guest here,” the lady huffed, “I had no idea you two were acquainted!”

Noticing you jolt slightly at the lady’s statement, the man turned to face you, momentarily meeting your eyes before beating you to a response, “yes, well,” his smile was more than a little wry at your surprise before he turned to face the lady yet again, “my staff and myself happen to be regular customers of the apothecary.”

He watched your boisterous host’s eyebrows climb up her forehead as she turned to you, expression clearly asking you to corroborate this claim. A glance at you revealed a very awkward toothy smile, before you nodded hesitantly.

“My, you sure know who to sell to,” was all she said, which seemed to confuse you if your expression was anything to go by.

“Her rates and products are ill-priced though,” Diluc drew the lady’s attention back to him, “she ought to charge more.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate but seemed to have more sense than to say anything against him.

Your hostess, however, had no problem disagreeing, “Now, now Master Diluc, these remedies are conveniently priced for us commonfolk.”

A moment of silence passed as the lady considered something, and she turned to you, “how do you turn a profit though dear?”

You didn’t . If your silent stance was any indication. Your awkward smile returned as you shifted on your feet searching for an adequate answer. You likely did not wish to lie, but did not wish to reveal your poor state of affairs.

“My priority is not to generate a profit,” you settled on in the end, readjusting your grip on the bundle of plants in your hold, “it’s to help people.”

The lady’s smile fell into something concerned, and mildly pained for a moment before resuming its usual vigor. “Would you care to join us for lunch Master Diluc?” Her smile was mildly bashful. “Now, I may not be a master chef, however I do cook up a mean Sweet Madame!”

“Thank you, but I will have to decline,” Diluc smiled jovially, “I need to be on my way.”

It seemed the lady understood what he was trying to say, despite that she insisted, “perhaps next time then!”

He gave her a polite nod, then turned to you again. It was mildly irking to see you looked a little relieved. Then again, it seemed you were trying to hide that you were not as well as you claimed to be from him, and this lady wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Do come by the winery when you’re feeling better, we have much to discuss,” the tycoon invited you, “and Adelinde has been very concerned about you, I’m sure seeing you would put her mind at ease.”

“Miss Adelinde?” You seemed surprised by that, then a little worried. Good. You’d be sure to visit then.

Or at least that’s what he thought you’d do.

Instead, you chose to write her a letter. One that the maid found very amusing. The maid’s appearance never gave away her age, however she’d been with Diluc long enough that he could not conceal his true intentions from her as easily as he could everyone else. She was very entertained that he’d told you about her concern.

“Very clever Master Diluc,” she smiled knowingly at him, “I’d usually expect this kind of behavior from Master Kaeya, but it seems you’ve decided to adopt this tactic as well. Most entertaining.”

He let out a sigh, there was no hiding things from Adelinde.

“Unfortunately it seems things will not be proceeding as you planned,” she leafed through the pages of the letter you’d sent, “it appears she won’t be visiting for a while. I almost get the sense she’s caught on to your plan as well,” she looked very amused as she looked back up at him, “I’d say you’re likely going to have to track her down again. And this time, she will be actively working to hide from you.”

Whether Adelinde was correct in that assessment or not was not clear.

What was clear however, was that you were notably absent from his personal radar. But not the knights’ radar.

Jean came to visit him when he was working the bar one night, letting him know that you’d appeared to deliver some tea blends to her, and mint oil to Kaeya. You’d even paid Barbara a visit, per what she’d heard. She was relieved to know you’d been alright. Then came the reasonable inquiry:

“Why were you looking for her?” Jean couldn’t help but ask as she played with the stem of her glass.

Diluc continued to wipe the glass in his hand, before inspecting it and putting it away with a sigh, “Adelinde has been using her products,” he said as he grabbed another glass, “she was concerned about her.”

And Adelinde had been concerned. He remembered she and Elzer had been relieved to hear you were no longer camping out where you’d been, but as the search stretched on, both had been concerned something had happened. According to what he’d gathered from the lady in Springvale, you’d likely collapsed with a fever from straining yourself too much.

“I see,” his overworked friend smiled at him, “just what I’d expect from you. I’m sure Adelinde will be relieved to hear she’s alive and recovering well.”

“She is,” Diluc’s smile was sardonic, “she got a letter from her.”

“I’m glad,” the Acting Grandmaster’s smile was as gentle as ever.

Jean was quick to leave after that, she’d simply come by to deliver the good news in person. He wouldn’t see Jean for a while after that. Nor you, for that matter.

How funny, back when he’d wanted nothing to do with you, you’d pop up at the most random of times. Now that he wished to discuss that very tendency of appearing when he least expected, you were nowhere to be found. That, and according to Elzer you’d refused any substantial kind of payment.

Unfortunately the events that often led to your encounters were all but over. Though it was fortunate that the attacks on Mondstadt had ended without his identity being revealed. It seemed that the domain he’d cleared was where they were hiding their troops. There were a few stray mages that popped up since, however it was nothing like the concentrated marches he’d dealt with before. The odd disease that was ailing the people of Springvale had mostly disappeared as well. 

Yet despite the fact that you’d all but vanished from Diluc’s radar, again , there were still new teas, bathing solutions, creams, ointment refills, oils, and soaps popping up around his estate. Which meant you had yet to return to your homeland and were still somewhere in Mondstadt. 

Where though?

More importantly, why were you avoiding him this time? Or maybe you really had run into trouble again after delivering those things to his estate? The latter was more likely than he would like to admit. If you were avoiding him…well he could imagine why.

Yes, he could imagine why.

And be completely off about it.

The answer came when he’d realized he didn’t really have to talk to you about keeping out of his work when you were no longer actively involving yourself in it. He’d also left an immodest sum at the Adventurer’s Guild to be delivered to you, and he’d instructed his staff to pay you at least triple whatever price you set to your services, they were allowed to threaten you if you refused the payment as well. Adelinde was very pleased with that. Diluc was not a man to take advantage of his allies, and his staff shared the sentiment.

But yes, the answer: the answer came in the form of a mildly exasperated Cavalry Captain that was in “desperate need of a drink,” to, “remedy an unforeseen betrayal.” When the elder of the two heard that he pinched the bridge of his nose, gearing himself for another conversational maze. One that would be forced into regardless of his desire to participate.

As it turns out, just outside the domain that was housing the mages’ troops was an envelope. It was off to the side and not immediately noticeable, but not so well hidden it would never be found. Quite the thick envelope too, it was more of a package if he were honest. It even had the necessary funds for postage to Sumeru! There was what was clearly a will in there, which went from very detailed as though someone had carefully deliberated over it for a while to very rushed as though it was finalized in five minutes. It was also in the general language of Teyvat. There were a few letters in there too, though very short and clearly rushed.

“The letter addressed to me told me to stop drinking so I could lighten Jean’s load, for the sake of Jean’s health,” Kaeya lamented, “how cruel, wasn’t even concerned about my health.”

After a short sip of his drink, the knight continued: the truly curious thing was that the letters addressed to Sumeru were written in Sumerian. Which meant one of two things: they were meant for family, or they housed a secret that the writer didn’t want Mondstadters to immediately uncover.

Ah he could see where this was going.

“We haven’t had an attack in a while,” Kaeya swirled his drink, “so I’ve been trying to decipher it,” his eyes narrowed, “I even took it to Lisa.”

Diluc’s eyes widened minutely. Kaeya must have been really stumped, and really intrigued.

“She said that going through a lady’s private letters was indecent…can you believe her? The nerve ,” he frowned at the pool of liquid in his glass, “it turns out our little apothecary friend really was the writer, and she was writing to her family.”

Kaeya took a huge gulp, “Lisa was so amused, her ‘little cutie,’ was using a very unique cipher so only someone she trusted could read it. I think she recognized the person she mentioned in her letter.”

The wine enthusiast downed the rest of his glass, “she wouldn’t tell me who it was though.”

“That must be so disappointing for you,” Diluc found himself commenting.

“Come now Diluc,” the knight sent him a wry smile as he refilled his glass, “it’s only natural I would be curious. The envelope was found outside the domain you cleared, all by yourself , might I add” he lifted his glass to his lips again, “and it contained a will of all things.”

From what this slippery knight was saying he’d already deduced that you’d followed him in. He just wanted to hear him confirm it. 

Diluc felt his exasperation with Kaeya manifest on his features as he continued to clean up and organize the bar counter. This man was the one specific person you wanted to hide your vision from, and while he’d already understood why, he felt himself come to an even clearer understanding.

Kaeya found you entertaining. You were becoming his personal source of amusement.

And now keeping your secret was becoming a personal source of amusement for Diluc. Strange, he should have found it annoying…yet having knowledge that Kaeya was desperate for was infinitely amusing.

How immature of him really.

“Our little apothecary wouldn’t happen to have followed you into the domain, now would she?”

Ah yes, there came the quintessential question. The point of this whole conversation most likely. Diluc frowned as he turned away from the younger swordsman.

“Goodness I can’t imagine she was much help with a simple polearm,” the captain made to pose in an obviously inquisitive manner. Ever the drama king.

The redhead was thankful that he’d yet to turn back around. His lips twitched in minute amusement. You were obviously an amateur, but you’d thought about what you could do with your limited skill. You’d mostly used it to daze enemies by knocking them on the head or knock them off their feet, oh and to skewer an anemo slime or two. Not too much help in the fighting department, but definitely not a hindrance either. 

A quick learner as well.

Kaeya was right, there had been Pyro Abyss Mages, and it was your dendro that helped him whittle away at their shields faster. During a moment of respite, if it could be called that, as the two of you were trekking from one part of the domain to another, he’d briefly explained elemental reactions and battle. To his surprise you were already mildly aware, stating it only made sense that elements would react, you were knowledgeable in basic alchemy after all.

“However I didn’t really think to ever apply it in battle,” you’d looked at him curiously, “wait - does this mean you’d like me to participate in battle? I followed you here to heal you.”

“No, you don’t have to battle,” he shook his head, while scanning the area ahead, “I was giving you some direction in case you got any ideas.”

“Yes, well, I was going to avoid it for the most part, I’m concerned I’ll get in your way,” your hold on your polearm tightened, “I don’t have any real battle experience.”

“Then, just imbue the enemy with dendro from a distance when you can, and trip them up as you did before,” Diluc rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening up the tension there, “that’ll be enough for me.”

“O-okay!” Your expression was wobbly. “I’ll do my best.”

“And relax,” Diluc found himself amused as you winced at his command, “you’ll strain yourself if you’re too tense, and end up getting hurt and getting in the way.”

“Okay,” you nodded again, exhaling deeply and shaking out the tension in your body before rolling your shoulders and he did before.

“Do what you can, and I’ll handle the rest,” he summoned his claymore, the next group of enemies in sight.

You mostly healed him though, and healed pretty well for someone who’d only recently received a vision with limited practice. You’d also thought to bring in provisions with you - you must have realized to do that while writing the letters.

The amusement left his features then. You’d been quite the asset, as much as he hates to admit it-he’d likely have been in a much worse state leaving that domain, and with the way he was bedridden for a week…you’d more than repaid that debt you insisted you owed him.

The former captain remained silent as he continued with his work. Kaeya always knew more than he let on, this was no different. Why he wanted a confirmation that you followed him in was beyond him.

“Why do you constantly come to me to talk about this apothecary you’re so interested in?”

“Who else could I possibly go to for these discussions?”

“Find somebody else to gossip with,” Diluc found himself frowning.

“It’s called investigating my dear Diluc,” Kaeya rested his cheek on his palm, his other hand tracing circles on the rim of his glass, “as a knight it’s my duty to look into suspicious happenings.”

That was factually correct. Save for this not really being an investigation.

Yes, letters with a cipher were suspicious. He could only wonder what it was you’d written in those letters to your family that required such secrecy. However you were clearly not a threat. Your sincerity shone through your work ethic and remedies. You were probably just an unlucky scholar, much like an unlucky traveler he knew.

The redhead felt his eyes narrow at his blue haired customer, who seemed to have a most disappointed expression. Yes, Kaeya always knew more than he let on…He didn’t actually think you were a threat.

“You’re that upset that you couldn’t read her private letters to her family back home?” He raised a brow at the younger man. Dear Barbatos, this guy.

When the captain huffed a little laugh and turned to him with an amused smile, “it is suspicious that she used a cipher though, isn’t it? What could she possibly need to protect that strongly?”

What indeed? Given you left those outside the domain before you followed him in, they might contain…

He sighed tiredly. He could hypothesize all he liked, however he’d receive no answers unless he asked you directly. He would have to locate you.

“Now Diluc,” Kaeya’s lone eye gleamed with mischief, “you never did answer me: did she follow you in?”

You really should have left that package further away from the domain.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 43: A Plan

I've believed in my own lies so strongly I made them come true. I promise that this time I rant much less about the Seanchan. I also promise that this chapter doesn't actually spoil all that much, but it's still spoils a few things for this book and the later The Wheel of Time series as a whole so you shouldn't keep reading unless you're ready for that.

This chapter has the a'dam bracelet as it's all about the plan to get Egwene away from captivity.

Feeling worse than useless, she picked up her skirts and ran, and Egwene’s screams pursued her. She could not make herself stay, and leaving made her feel a coward.

Shame you didn't kill Renna BEFORE she put the bracelet back on!

Nah I'm just messing Min. Shit sucks. This is a terrible way to get a POV section.

She was not accustomed to weeping openly, but then she was not accustomed to feeling so helpless, so useless.

Sadly, Min never does internalize the notion that she may have been a medium fish in Baerlon but that she's krill compared to the world's big players. Even more sadly, the fact that she is comparatively useless as a combatant never stops being relevant in her life. She shoulda pulled a Ty Lee and invented a knife style that just fucks up channelers or something.

“That color becomes you,” Nynaeve continued. “You should have taken up dresses long since. Though I’ve thought of breeches myself since I saw them on you.”

Nynaeve is pretty conservative at times but it's sweet that she's thought about how she has the option to wear pants thanks to Min.

Min hesitated a fraction before saying, “She’s as well as can be expected.” Min could see it all too well, if she told them what was happening to Egwene right that moment. Nynaeve was as likely as not to go storming back in an attempt to stop it.

And she's not even using her seeing powers to predict this future!

‘Give me a damane of my own on my deck,’ he says, ‘and I will sail this instant.’

Domon really does seem to be an incredibly adaptive man and a quick thinker. It's a shame he always stayed pretty background; I wonder what he might have pulled off if he'd had a chance.

“I wish Rand were here.” Elayne sighed, and when they both looked at her, she blushed and quickly added, “Well, he does have a sword. I wish we had somebody with a sword. Ten of them. A hundred.”

Keep it in your dress, Elayne. The adults are talking.

She touched her chest absently, as if feeling something through her coat.

KEEP IT IN YOUR DRESS, NYNAEVE. Good lord how is Min being the reasonable one about boys right now?

I hope one of you can think of something I haven’t; I’ve wracked my brains, and I always stumble when it comes to the a’dam, the leash and collar. Sul’dam don’t like anyone watching too closely when they open them.

General protectiveness of their ability to hold slaves, or furtive, subconscious acknowledgment of the fact that should destroy an empire?

A man’s ring of heavy gold floated above Nynaeve’s head, and above Elayne’s, a red-hot iron and an axe.

Well Nynaeve already has the ring so that's a terrible future vision, and this particular prophecy actually doesn't come true for Elayne because it relates to a cut version of how Rand loses his hand. Let's say it's got something to do with Manetheren and Perrin I guess. Or maybe it's a Fourth Age thing.

Many people had fled here from villages further from the coast. Min saw no point to it—they had leaped from the possibility of a visit from the Seanchan to the certainty of Seanchan all around them—but she had heard what the Seanchan did when they first came to a village, and she could not blame the villagers too much for fearing another appearance.

Safety in numbers and staying inside the region the Seanchan aren't likely to wage war against any time soon.

The inn had been hastily renamed The Three Plum Blossoms, but part of the word “Watcher” still showed through the slapdash paint work on the sign.

Betcha anything that three plum blossoms are an auspicious omen in Seanchan culture and that the innkeeper is already currying some favor.

“It’s all right,” Min told her, taking a place on the end of one of the benches at the table. “He only looks and sounds like a bear.” Elayne sat down on the other end, looking doubtful.

Min is of course pretty used to all sorts from her own inn days, and anyway if there's any omens around Domon they're likely ones that suggest decentness.

I did think I could spin a tale or two and be on my way, but now I think when I no entertain him any longer, it be an even wager whether he do let me go or have my head cut off.

I think Domon probably would be enslaved instead but yeah not a good outcome in any case.

Two gold rings hung on the cord. Min gasped when she saw one—it was the heavy man’s ring she had seen when she read Nynaeve in the street—but she knew it was the other, slighter and made for a woman’s slender finger, that made Domon’s eyes bulge. A serpent biting its own tail.

I told you your prophecy was dumb, Min.

But also damn Nynaeve is reckless and this Aes Sedai impersonation business is going to get so out of hand. Real Aes Sedai lie there though, where she tells him he knows what it means instead of the truth that she's earned the ring but isn't Aes Sedai.

Six damane they did put around her, stepping out of the alleys of a sudden. I did think she would . . . do something—you know what I mean—but. . . . I know nothing of these things. One moment she did look as if she would destroy them all, then a look of horror did come on her face, and she did scream.

Frankly I suspect they were overdoing it with six; the Seanchan have more powerful channelers on average, after all. I wonder if they've noticed it yet.

“Egwene said they have two prisoners,” Min said slowly. “Ryma, a Yellow, and she didn’t know who the other is.” Nynaeve gave her a sharp look, and she fell silent, blushing. From the look on Domon’s face, it had not furthered their cause any to tell him the Seanchan held two Aes Sedai, not just one.

I'm a little surprised Min is naive enough to mention this. You'd think with her life experiences she'd be much more guarded about what information she's willing to share, and with whom.

“With some people,” she said, “you have to be certain. If you show them one glimmer of doubt, they’ll sweep you off in some direction you don’t want to go. Light, but I was afraid he was going to say no. Come, we have plans yet to make. There are still one or two small problems to work out.”

Nynaeve is an icon and we will close out this chapter with a moment of respect for her.

[1stunseeliefaelass]

This is my first time trying a reader meets story for Darksiders. Whether you ship or not is up to you guys. I also tried to make the gender as ambiguous as possible so all could enjoy it. Hope I succeeded and that you all indeed enjoy. Also you can tots draw this out if you want, this whole fandom has my permission for sure. I love you guys. Anyway I'll quit rambling and just get to the story already...

Darksiders Short Story: Y/N Meets Death

Good job Y/N, you just had to get knocked out. Just had to fall down a pit. Just had to get lost and separated. Mom's gonna kill me if the Demons don't.   

       You cursed your misfortune for a short while as you began holding up in your makeshift bunker. Praying it would hold together for a little bit longer, listening to the radio and walkie you have. Rare things long ago, but you're Dad fixed em up for you all the same in case of emergencies.

He always said Great Grandpa preached that tv news wouldn't last if the world went to shit. So radios were better.

       You stayed planted for the next few weeks, with someone's stocked mini fridge in the closet. Held up in a busted up college dorm after having been separated during a demon attack on your family. Whether they made it or not, you didn't know. Thoughts about them often made it hard to sleep. No matter how much reassurance you tried giving yourself. Or how much you told yourself with certainty that they'd make it.

There's no way, Dad's been radio silent for weeks. No I shouldn't think like that. Maybe they're just busy right now. Trying to hide whilst looking for me. So they can't talk to me right now. Right?

        You often tried telling yourself this. Surely Mom and Dad would make it through this, and find you. Hell your Brother is a complete badass, at least he always seemed that way when you were little. So if anybody could make sure he and anyone else makes it out, it's him, right? You keep the last picture of them you have close, one you took before the camera you used broke apart. Hiding it under the pillow you're using, so it doesn't get destroyed during any natural disasters that have come up since the end. Though they were not that common, it wasn't much of a blessing. For within a year, the surrounding land became either desolate or extremely dangerous. It wasn't uncommon to hear screams at night when trying to sleep. And during the day you stayed hidden like you'd practically been trained to do since walking, only leaving when food was running low. Using the campus radio station to know which places were safest to traverse and which weren't. It was also soothing to hear the voices of others. Knowing at least some other people were ok out there. Other times you heard military jargin on it, as rescues were attempted. Not many were successful sadly. Instead you chose to stay put each time, as much as you wanted to finally escape the nightmare. But deep down, you knew that wasn't much of an option. You wouldn't find your family that way.

They can save as many of us as they want. But by now, everywhere else is just as fucked as here. Better to stay put unless absolutely necessary. Better to be held up and only leaving when needed, than to be caught and killed...or worse. I don't want Mom and Dad finding my dead body either.

       Eventually though, the dorm building you were in, was beginning to go. So now you were planning on leaving for good this time. You just needed a few extra supplies. First was a new backpack, as yours was slowly falling apart and could only carry so much. Secondly, something to carry your items that wouldn't fit in the pack. As long as it wasn't too noisy, you'd be happy. So you reluctantly emptied out your mini fridge into the dumpsters outside. Anything that wasn't perishable you stuffed into your crappy backpack as best you could before setting off. Finally you carefully made your way to the nearest store. It felt eerie as hell traversing such an empty and ransacked place. Never have you seen a store before, as your parents preached that you avoid going in them alone. But this time you had no choice, you needed supplies. Even if you were unlikely to find much left anymore. Eventually you do find a outdoor backpack, alongside some clothes that somehow weren't torn up. You didn't care about whether or not they fit though, only that they could provide some layers when needed. Luckily you also find a sturdy wagon before too long, and grab a cooler as well. But you won't be keeping anything cool in here. The water was mostly all gone, with the occasional smooshed in bottles scattered about. You took all the water you could, stuffing the bottles into your crappy backpack. You saved the outdoor one for canned goods, instant noodles, anything that wouldn't perish quickly. Other food you stuffed in your cooler, alongside your new clothes and new pair of boots a size up from yours. For when you inevitably grew up of the boots you replaced your now too small ones with. Lastly, you take any security tags off at the register yourself once you finally figure that out. Parents always did the same to avoid triggering alarms and making noise, said they learned it from other survivers. You then leave through the back of the store, as that seemed safer to do. It was already noon and your stomach was hungry, but you didn't want to stop. Instead, you just ate a protein bar and went on your way. You only returned to the dorm for three things; the photo, your radio, and a book.

The Last Unicorn....an ironic book to be reading now I guess. But....at least the world in this book wasn't ending.

Finally you leave the slowly crumbling building behind, luckily you only stayed a few floors up from the ground floor, and the elevators worked for once. You begin looking for a new place to shack up in, eventually coming across a large house. With night coming you hurry inside, not caring for what you'll find. Waiting for you, is nothing short of a horror show. You find dried blood pools everywhere, the occasional torn articles of feminine looking clothing, burned up wood with the familiar smell of sulfur, and scattered bones.

Demons must've got em, poor women....or were they girls? No I'd better not think on it too much. Just find a place to sleep and...

Suddenly you hear a noise behind you and find a large figure searching around the place. Fearing the worst, you do all you can to hide. Abandoning the wagon you had, hoping it wouldn't be stolen from or destroyed. You hear nothing for a few seconds until a very deep, and sonorous voice calls out.

"Hello?! Is anyone here?!"

Cautiously you lean your head around the corner you hid behind, spotting the figure softly kicking at your things. You couldn't tell what kind of weapon they had, but it sure as fuck was huge. Slowly you began to back away, until you slip on one of the many bits of clothes. Landing on your ass, and alerting the intruder.

"Who's there?!"

You begin fleeing at this point. Avoiding the stairs going up and running to the basement. Panicking as lumbering steps head after you.

Shit it's after me!

"Wait stop!"

You don't abide, instead hurrying away as before. Hiding behind a boiler as the figure begins searching for you. Two ember like eyes being the only tell you get of their location. Trying your best to maintain and quiet your breathing as you panic. That is until you feel a bony hand on your shoulder, slowly turning around before suddenly jumping away with a scream at the sight of a demon. Only for the weapon the figure had been holding to suddenly slam into the demon. Now you see that it is a scythe, but you don't really care. You go to bolt again before bumping into a firm chest, being caught before you can fall again.

Confused you remain still before pleading quietly, "Please don't kill me."

"I...wasn't planning on it. As for the Demon, it seems to be long dead. So you don't need to worry about that either."

"If you're not gonna kill or eat me...then what do you want?", you ask while trying to put up a tough act.

You see what looks like an eye roll before they answer you, "I assumed your kind had all but perished. An assumption I'm for once glad is wrong. Are you at all harmed?"

"Uhm...no. Fell on my butt earlier but that won't cause any...wait a minute you are a stranger...why am I even talking to you?"

They cock their head at you, "Probably because you've been by yourself for so long that a being that isn't going to kill you seems safe enough to speak to?"

Sarcasm, great. "Look uhm....person I don't know. Before I even say anything else I want a name at least. So out with it buster."

"Feisty ingrate...", he mutters before continuing, "If you really must know, I am Death. Now I should think it's only fair I know your name. Don't you think?"

"Well excuse me for practicing stranger danger. Anyway it's Y/N, happy?"

"Yes. Now if you're going to stay here, you best barricade this place. I assume this wasn't your home initially? Based on the wagon?"

You place you hand on your hip, "I'm only staying one night. Even if it was my home I can't stay here. I got separated from my family, and waiting hasn't brought them back to me. So I'm going looking for them whilst trying to survive."

"You...may not like what you find.", he replies, his tone softening.

You look to the ground, "I...I've got to try. For them. I'm sure they'd do the same for me.", then as look at your photo of them you realize something, "Hey maybe you've seen them? Uh here, they look like this. Just uh...don't mess it up ok? It's all I've got."

Death observes it briefly, and you watch as he seems to recognize one of them before glancing away and telling you, "I...have seen the shorter male's jacket."

"Really?! You found my brother's jacket?! Did you see him though? Where was he?"

He puts his hands up, "Hey hey hey, slow down...or better yet maybe you should sit down instead..."

His softer tone throws you off, and you do as he suggests. Sitting upon a random box with a pit in your stomach forming as you await what he says, "What...did you find?"

"I found his jacket, as I told you before. Laid upon a dirt mound...it looked fairly recent too. Can't say for sure just how recent though. The jacket was...also being held down by a few items. I assume...they were once his."

You feel the pit travel up your body to form a knot in your throat, "T-the mound? Did y-you...s-s-search it too?"

Death shakes his head, "No. I'm not the sort of man to dig up a grave."

"Then...it m-m-may not be his. H-h-he must've just left his jacket there...o-out of respect! To ease the soul or s-something!"

Two big hands grab each of your shoulders, "Did you not hear me Y/N? There were other items holding it in place."

"Then what were they?! You only assume they're his, you didn't say anything else!"

"A walkie talkie like your own, a busted radio, and a pair of equally destroyed binoculars.", He tells you firmly whilst holding back rising anger.

You slip from the box to the floor, landing on your knees, "N-no...it...it can't be...he can't be...he was always...he'd never...no...no...no...no no no NO NO!"

Death sighs heavily before placing a hand on your shoulder, "I'm...sorry.", he says nothing else. Simply listening to you sob in silence, wishing he'd found your brother in a different way. That he'd found him alive, even if injured in some way. At least then he could've been saved. However in a way, this strengthens his resolve to save humanity all the more. So that no one else has to suffer this kind of pain or loss, if nothing else.

[ganet]

Thoughts on Versus by ONE, Kyoutarou Azuma and bose

So I really wanted to try to finally put into words what I think about this series. This is in no way any serious review of the series or anything like that. Just my personal feelings and thoughts about the story and characters and such.

Now chapter 16 is out. Btw, this series is officially translated in English on K MANGA and it is a simulpub there as well. (However, it is a shame that K MANGA is US region only at the moment, and it appears you have to pay to really see new chapters, unlike on MANGA Plus.)

But enough about that. Just a fair warning: This post is full of spoilers from Versus manga!!

General thoughts

I first read a chapter or two shortly after it was released in Nov 2022. But since it's a monthly release schedule, it kind of made me wait for over a year to check out again. And I am very interested in the story and characters. The whole "isekai" story idea has been done well so far. The story also really doesn't pull back on the gore or death in general. Humans will suffer one way or another, but it forces their natural enemies to deal with each other as well (and I am interested to see how this plays out with certain other natural enemies we have yet to see much of).

It is very enjoyable, and leaves you wanting more. Only negative I could think about is the update schedule, but if it's something that is necessary, since the manga is very well illustrated, I won't whine about it. Other thing I could think of that bothers me is the English translation; its weak official availability.

I like the character designs, albeit certain color choices sometimes surprised me. (I remember reading how people wish that Pakkya's hair color should be something else than red and green. Someone even said it resembles Christmas colors lol. Although, red and green are complementary colors.) But I guess there is explanations for those, since the characters are from different worlds and such.. Oh yeah, Kiva has Boros' colors. It does suit him, though.

While the image of Boros is not the one in his armor where his skin color is similar with Kiva's, I think this image illustrates the color similarities well enough.

I really like how ONE writes his characters. They all have some kind of motives to act why they act, which makes me wonder what lead to the natural enemies in some of these worlds to hunt humans. Like, when and why did demons start doing it? What is with the nature and why it attacks the humans? What is World Tree, and when did it start taking all life from the planet? When did titans start doing their human hunting? Where did neo-humans come from and when did their sick play with the paleo-humans start? We know that madalans came from outer space one day and started their invasion, though idk if there is more there. We also know about the A.I. robots. A program went rogue and started hunting humans (though, is there more to it as well?).. And we really don't know how trustworthy all the humans actually are to each other.. Currently, there seems to be more going on than meets the eye.

I also see some improvement in the art style of the manga, since if you read the couple first chapters and then the latest chapters, you can see that Azuma is getting comfortable drawing the characters. (There's more certainty in those lines.) Then again, he has to keep up a monthly update schedule and he apparently has other projects to deal with as well. (Good luck, Azuma!) Also, I really like how he uses perspective in this story. Such a good angles from time to time. Makes me really happy. The focus on some of the emotions in the characters' faces is also really to my liking.

A panel here, a panel there

So, random snippets from the story, because why not:

Chapters 2 & 12: Well, well, well. How the turn tables, huh Kiva.

Chapter 1: Heroes. Ah, they look so cool. They have cute support fairies as well.

It is a shame we won't be seeing most of the heroes in action since many of them are dead. Macbuk is alive, but brainwashed, so I wonder.. We are going to see him most likely with the demon lord who most likely brainwashed him. There are also heroes like Fecaccio, who was captured as a lab animal, and Alicia, whose mind was broken so he is in some kind of vegetative state I believe. Idk where his body is, though.

Chapter 1: Macbuk, Fecaccio and Alicia.

Although, I have a feeling we may see some other heroes who are still alive at some point. There was a total of 47 of them after all. (Or maybe not. Maybe I am just hopeful.)

Also, Alicia had a lover who was captured by the demons and he wanted to go save them. Why the lover was captured? Good question. Maybe the lover was eaten, played with first, or so on and then killed/died. Though, I have started to wonder if some demons like to snatch human lovers/spouses for themselves. Or maybe as a slaves.

Chapter 1: Fascinating choice of words there, Jachi. Miracle, huh.

We really have not seen much about the great demon king, although we do know his name. I wonder what that demon is up to, since even the demon lords have not heard of him (or at least Nyudo and Jachi) after their world went into chaos.

Chapter 1: Hallow and Zaybi's home, presumably.

So I find this place fascinating. Hallow and Zaybi seem to have been raised in this place. The houses look kind of cute haha. I wonder what happened to their home. I wonder if they remember their parents at all, and I wonder what happened to them and left Zaybi to be the one to take care of Hallow.

Chapter 7: Sam kills his father against his will since the 19th Demon Lord, Nyudo plays chess with them.

Poor Sam and his dad. We really are introduced what kind of "slimy" bastard Nyudo is. Even Jachi's reaction to his telepathy is interesting..

Chapter 7: Nyudo contacts Jachi with telepathy.

Chapter 7: Keila wants Ario to teach her about the flower manners in Sorcerion once he comes back from his mission alive.

This is actually one of the interesting relationships I would think would develop in some way in Versus. It remains to be seen if Ario can keep his promise to show her more about what it means to give a flower to another.

Chapter 7: Heidi giving a hug to Ario and wishing good luck to him.

This whole thing smells so bad. The moment she hugged him and Ario noticed her shivering, my alarm bells started blaring.

Especially this part caught my attention from this one neo-human:

Chapter 9: Neo-human telling Ario how paleo-humans stink, and that they can smell him.

I do wonder if this was done deliberately on Heidi's side..

Chapter 8: Shigeru thinks about those close to him and loses his composure in front of the titans.

This part really hit me when I realized he was thinking about someone important to him, and this was his way of trying to protect them. They seem to be his partner and child, I believe, who he is thinking about. That curly hair on the child is hard not to notice. Well, they won't see him again...

Chapter 10: Hallow jumps to attack Kiva.

I really like how we got a glimpse of Hallow's true power same time as Kiva did.

Chapter 10: Hallow and Pakkya attack the demon army together.

One other relationship I really like is the development between these two. It started off a bit rocky, but Pakkya appears far smarter than he lets on. Even though he is still not smart smart, he uses his head still and has beliefs he strongly believes in - like the fact that throwing away your life, after people before you sacrificed theirs so you can live, is an act of betrayal towards those people.

Chapter 10: Jellyfish demons spotted!

Chapter 11: Kiva kicking Hallow in the family jewels.

This part always makes me laugh. Poor Hallow. "Fu*k you, hero, and all of your possible offspring." You can tell how evil Kiva is lol. I'm pretty sure Zaybi would love to have some nieces and/or nephews in the future, if their world would give them the chance to live normally. But then there is also adoption...

Chapter 11: Galua, a madalan/alien yells, and it seems to hurt everyone's ears.

When I saw this page, the first thing I thought about was "Man, that's gotta hurt Kiva, since he has six ears". And then he indeed did explode in anger.

Chapter 9: Ario decides to fight his own battle.

Ario is actually pretty cool when he shows his hero side. Here is Ario the Hero. The one Hallow really believes in, or what he sees in him.

Chapter 10: Hallow makes Kiva promise to leave the humans alone if he wins. (Although, Kiva obviously doesn't respect that in the end. He isn't there to duel, he is on a mission, after all.)

I really like this kind of dynamic between these two. There is something about both wanting to beat the living shit out of each other, since its mutual and you know Hallow can kill Kiva this time since he doesn't appear to fear the demons anymore and is very angry. Or at least, he probably has some kind of fear against Jachi, since that's a demon on whole another level.. But I like that Hallow is slowly overcoming this demon fear he had.

Chapter 10: Spay-s? SPACE?!

I really like how this story sometimes brings up the differences between the knowledge these particular worlds have about space and such. We now know that besides Celestia, The Mecha Ordinance and Sorcerion has a knowledge about space, but The Titan's Crown and Gaia's Wrath worlds seem to be missing this particular information. (We can also presume that worlds such as Parasitica, Land of the Lawless, Extremia, The Cursed Lands, Neo-Terra and The Disastrous Metropolis are also aware of the existence of space.) Dunno about Yggdrasion and Indignia.

Chapter 12: Bastz with the human king, until he decides to leave.

Oh Bastz. Such a mysterious guy this one is.

Chapter 12: Galua annihilates demons.

These madalans are really strong, and it is interesting to see how these would go against other natural enemies. Or how they would deal with a demon lord.

Welp, can't insert more images (max 30), so I will probably reblog this and continue a bit more that way, but that's all for this first bunch.

Relationships & such

[juudaimes-true-form]

You really thought it was inclusive to say fem-aligned and masc-aligned? Is that all you people think there is? Y'all really created a new binary and said fuck multigender people and the flexibility of their identities. Why are we creating flags with specific gender meanings for the stripes? That's not inclusive no matter how many stripes you put on the flag. Why are you so happy to exclude people?

We’ll walk through this line by line. It's a little long so I'll leave it under a read more 👍

1. You really thought it was inclusive to say fem-aligned and masc-aligned?

Yes, I do. There are a plethora of identities that fall outside of man, boy, woman, and girl that still align with these. Like demi-girl and demi-boy. By adding fem- and masc- aligned, it’s a nod to the viabinary spectrum who are non-binary and experience gender similar to binary ones. Furthermore, I feel it’s more inclusive than simply saying masculine and feminine identities like most of the current options do. 

2. Is that all you people think there is? 

No. I am well aware that there are genders that fall completely outside masculine and feminine or beyond human gender understanding entirely (like xenogenders). 

3. Y'all really created a new binary and said fuck multigender people and the flexibility of their identities. 

While I don’t know anything about you, anon, I can with certainty say that I am multigender. I don’t often use the label since I prefer bigender but I do know that falls under multigender. I understand how flexible gender and its expression can be. 

In the flag I shared, the starting with a fem and ending with masc is a holdover of convention at the time. That can make it seem like everything else is sandwiched between these two identities which, I agree, isn’t flexible to the array of experiences anyone can have. It’s not purposeful and I don’t hold it against the creator because as I said it was a common trait –even in the original and other remakes of the bigender flag. 

To lestis’ credit, the red-orange stripe (the one directly under the red) tries to honor the flexibility in multigender people and acknowledge other non-binary genders and all the ways they coexist or shift. 

Could it be better? Of course! I’m not too certain what you mean by creating a new binary though. 

4. Why are we creating flags with specific gender meanings for the stripes? 

Not certain what you mean here! Saying masculine identities doesn’t conflate to a specific gender, neither does saying feminine identities and neither does saying nonbinary identities. None of the stripes have specific gender meanings. I think you’re the one conflating qualities of an identity with a specific gender here. 

5.  That's not inclusive no matter how many stripes you put on the flag.

I agree! Never will we include every single identity in a single flag. Especially with multigender identities, there’s a lot of combination, fluidity, and nuance that won’t come across. The same criticism can be leveled at every version and redesign of the bigender + other gender identity flag. I don’t think that should stop us from trying though. And as we’ve tackled, none of the stripes represent a specific gender, the stripes that do mention identity try to do so in a way that covers multitudes of expressions and identity. 

I think lestis’ redesign does the best it can. It was the first flag I’d ever really felt represented with after accepting my bigender identity. But that’s just me, I’m not saying that everyone should also like lestis’ flag. The point of me adding it to the @/bigenderpolls thing was just so more people could see it. I don’t often see people adding lestis’ redesign as part of the bigender flag options and, for a long time, I’d honestly considered being flagless (which was a little disappointing but fine with me) because the other options just didn’t resonate with me. 

6. Why are you so happy to exclude people?

Honestly attacking me personally doesn’t do much for you here. I am not happy to exclude people. I don’t have to prove that to you and, frankly, I’m not sure how I’d even go about proving that anyhow. 

To put this into context: You are saying I am happy to exclude people because I tried to bring attention to the specific flag I used and hoped others would enjoy too. Like that is, ultimately, the start of all this. 

You don’t know me. I don’t know you. But I would guess that you didn’t plop questions like these into the original blog’s inbox or anyone else who reblogged the original post with their opinions on the options. 

I don’t have to defend myself to you, anon. You can look through my blog or whatever but if you already have the opinion that I like to exclude people then I doubt anything I say will change your mind. 

You’re welcome into my dms if you really want to continue this conversation or you can block me and move on from this dummy (<- me). Either way, this isn’t a discussion I feel comfortable continuing over anon asks. I don’t think I’ll be answering another one of these. 

Thank you for stopping by though!

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Healing Ties - Chapter 33 - Part 4

*Warning Adult Content*

"So, do you have a girlfriend or wife?"

Fanner asked.

His fingers didn't move but suddenly there was a sharp, stinging pain in Yore's shaft, similar to what happened when he started to get aroused, though he was fairly sure he hadn't done that.

Yore drew a breath in through his teeth and shook his head.

"No, but I have someone lined up to have my child. Aime. She beat my ass in a mock fight when she was nine and I was eight, and we made the decision that same day."

"When you were children?"

There was that terrible, sharp pain again.

It was difficult to ignore or accept.

There was a deep, biological instinct to stop doing whatever you were doing if it was causing sharp pains to your genitals but in this case it was for his own good.

"Yeah. I mean, it was a little odd even to people in our own community but she's from a family with an important bloodline too, so we were both raised with those sorts of ideas."

"Will you marry her now or...?"

"No."

Yore bit down on the inside of his cheek and shut his eyes as he felt another sharp pain in his cock.

This was just like trying to masturbate, except when he did that he got to stop at the first pain and not try again for another six months.

"She already has a husband, actually."

"Her husband won't mind?"

"No. This is quite normal for werewolves. Marriage is for love. Children are for the bloodline. For some families, anyway. Having children with your spouse is also common."

"Have you thought about how many kids you want?"

Fanner asked at the same time another sharp pain jolted through Yore's cock.

Was he asking questions to try to distract him?

It was helping a little bit.

"Hmm. Not sure how many but I always planned to wait at least five years between my first and second child. My mother had me when she was sixteen."

"That's very young."

"Yeah."

Yore paused, waiting for pain but Fanner seemed to have stopped for a moment to actually listen.

"It wasn't even because she particularly cared about her child being the one who inherited. She was my grandmother's oldest child. The next oldest, my mother's younger sister, was twelve and already talking about plans to get pregnant as soon as she was physically able to. My mother didn't want that for her, so she took away the incentive."

"Oh, that's... admirable, I suppose. Though tragic for everyone involved, in a way."

"More than you know. That younger sister is Sani and Raya's mother. She waited until she was older to have children but she still had them with the same adult man she'd intended to father them when she was twelve. She unfortunately mistook a fragile temper for strength and she and her daughters paid the price. She never was able to leave him for good and now her daughters don't have a relationship with either of their parents."

"I can see why you wouldn't want that for your own children."

"Yes, though I don't know if I'll stick to that plan. Can I really go back to taking my ongoing fertility for granted like that?"

"Well, you can never have certainty but I think it's a good plan. Having children compete over who can have children of their own first seems... less than ideal."

"Hmm."

Yore breathed through another spike of pain.

"Sometimes I envy Slone. There are so many things that are major considerations for me that he doesn't have to worry about at all. Though, I think I need direction in my life. I think I'd struggle to find my own purpose."

"I'm struggling," Fanner said, voice barely above a whisper.

"But maybe for both of us, it's because we were never taught any other way."

"I suspect you're right about that. By the way, do you want to tell everyone about what you can do now? It's going to be hard for me to justify the deal we made if we don't and the more of me you heal, the easier it will be for people to figure it out on their own."

"I suppose I'll have to, but... maybe when you'll be around for at least a few days? I don't want to do it on my own."

"Of course."

"We don't have to tell everyone right away, though. I think... I think I'd like a few days to think about it? Maybe if you need to do things with, um... things with making a child? You could do that first."

"Okay. I'll ask Slone to stay with you again while I'm gone."

"He won't mind?"

"Not when I get back and we explain what's going on to him. I'm sure he'd want to know right away and if he leaves now I might not see him for months. This is best for everyone."

"Oh, yes. I suppose he would want to know. He seems like a good brother. Like he cares about you."

Yore found himself smiling.

"He is, yeah. We didn't spend as much time together as kids as most brothers would because we were on very different paths in life right from the start, but those times when it was just the two of us were always special to me. I had friends my own age but we'd do a lot of training together and it always felt like that seeped into everything, including our play. We couldn't just have fun. But Slone knew how. He was all about just... living. He still is."

"He's never been jealous of you?"

Yore shook his head.

"He's never wanted what I have. Hell, he's never even been the type to want attention from our parents. He just wants to do his own thing. I can respect that."

"I guess he never would have tried to fight you for your inheritance."

"Well, I mean. True. But that wasn't really an option anyway. We were raised by two mothers, and each born to a different one of them. We have different fathers, too. We're brothers, but not of the same bloodline."

"Oh. That makes sense. I always thought of Danya as my brother, but then it turned out we actually are. Well, half brothers, anyway. Of course, I feel the same way about Duran but we're not real brothers at all."

The pain had stopped and Yore hoped that the painful part of this healing was over, but he suspected Fanner had just been momentarily distracted by the conversation.

"Family can be a lot more complex and run a lot deeper than blood." "That's true. You said you talked to Duran, didn't you?"

"When we were looking for you, yes. It wasn't possible for Danya to get in to see him, considering Danya is a mage and is also supposed to be dead, so I went instead."

"He's well?"

"Last I saw him he was... as well as I could expect someone living life as a slave to be. I offered him freedom but he declined because he felt he would be safer with his master."

"Maybe safer," Fanner agreed.

His fingertips were idly brushing up and down against a small section of Yore's inner thigh.

Yore wasn't sure if it served any utility or if he was just fidgeting his fingers.

Either way, it was extremely distracting.

"Well, perhaps that's something I could offer you in exchange for healing some other part of me. I can go and speak to him again and see if he'll change his mind now that you're here with us as well."

Fanner nodded.

He seemed to realise what he'd been doing and his fingers fluttered awkwardly away.

"We should check in on him at least once a year regardless. He was always clear that he didn't think his master loved him. I mean, it's silly to expect to be loved but he was always particularly good at knowing and accepting the situation he was in... and making it work for him."

"I got the impression he was a sharp young man with a mind of his own. A survivor, at least in the mental sense."

"I miss him," Fanner whispered.

"Well, it seems like you're a part of my life now. Permanently, if that's what you continue to want. When I get home, we'll sit down with my mother and we'll sort out my schedule. We'll make time for you to heal me and we'll also make time to visit Duran."

"Thank you. I'd like that. Um..."

Yore waited but Fanner didn't seem to be planning to continue his sentence.

"Yeah?"

"Um, while you're away, could I... um... could I stay in here, in your room? Or in another room just for myself? The guest cabin is... other people can go in there. It doesn't feel secure."

"Did someone bother you?"

"Raya said she would talk to you about it herself but..."

Fanner shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. That's not the point. I don't think I could really hurt a werewolf accidentally, but even so..."

"You can stay here until I get back, and then... I don't know. We'll figure something out. I can have your own cabin built for you if you want to stay here long term, but that'll take time."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Do you mind if I tell my grandmother about all of this? Just between me and her."

"Yes. If you want to tell someone, well... I trust your judgment. Everyone will know soon enough, anyway."

"Once I get back, yes."

"Hmm." "

I'll make sure it's okay. Whatever that means for you, I'll make sure that it is. I promised you that."

"Thank you. I trust you."

Fanner returned his attention to his task after that and Yore was dismayed to find out that he was indeed not done with the painful parts.

He seemed to have run out of distracting conversation, though or perhaps just realised that he was distracting himself more than he was distracting Yore because he continued his work in silence after that.

Yore found his own distraction in watching Fanner's face.

Yore was used to seeing him fearful and anxious, attention leaping from one thing to another but just then he was calm and focussed.

There wasn't much involved in the healing process in a visual sense.

He would either gently set his hand against Yore's skin or hover it just above it.

The only sensation Yore felt, besides the spikes of pain, was a general warming of the area and the occasional prickling sensation, a little like pins and needles.

It was the intensity of Fanner's gaze, the way he occasionally bit at his lip, that revealed the focus the task required of him.

He looked like he was trying to figure out a complex math problem in his head.

It felt a little odd to be laying there doing absolutely nothing when Fanner was so hard at work but he supposed that was just the way life was sometimes.

At times, doing nothing was the most useful thing you could do.

[talldarkandroguesome]

2nd of Frostfall, Morndas

Tel and I spent a lovely last day going around the city and enjoying the delights of the southern part of Elsweyr before our departure.

Having been so well received by Queen Khamira publicly, people were very willing to offer us tours and provide greater quality of food and drinks and entertainments. Tel was far more interested in the landscape and the artifacts of the museum than they seemed to be with the rest of the city.

I was thrilled to try the different foods and spices, to take in the various perfumed scents of spices and herbs, to try the various spirits and smoke mixes. I felt as though I was back in that space between the stars again. So light and beyond what one might otherwise be able to see or comprehend.

To be honest, I was very surprised we were not taken advantage of. Sure, some of the prices were inflated, but I had coin to spare. And I was more than happy to give back to the people of this land. Given what my own people have done to theirs, it was only right to pay back even the smallest fraction of that in coin. It was the least that I could do.

We returned to Mournhold and were met with a carriage that bundled us back and away to the manor. Sildras and Avon were waiting for us excitedly. Mother sent word she would be joining us for dinner the next day.

The teleportation through the Mages Guild is hardly what I would call easy on the body. And with all that has happened, my mind is is even more far off.

And it was for that reason that I so nearly missed Tel reiterating their previous offer.

To be fair, I was offhandedly complaining, mostly to try and convince them to stay just one day more. Not only for the company, but also so that I could have just one full day to recuperate from the battles and losses before the House began berating me again about my need to take a mistress.

Tel casually said, once again, that they would consider doing me the favor of carrying my child.

I must be clear, I thought that Tel, in the way so many friends and acquaintances do when conversing, was making the offer, much in the way that one talks about how nice it would be to see the lights of Skyrim over a lake or try Wamasu meat, that sort of half wishing talk that people do that does not hold them to their word or mean they intend to follow through in any way.

When I made it clear that it would indeed be nice, ah well, if only, that was when Tel made plain that they were quite serious. I thought they might yet be jesting, it had been so much casual conversation, so little seriousness to anything before that. Again, I said it would be nice, but they should not joke with me or I might try to hold them to it.

Again Tel said they meant it. And I had to make them tell me with certainty that they were, in fact, serious about it.

When they grew annoyed with me over it, I told them that I had not expected them to be serious. That I should be more than happy to accept that offer, but I would not wish for them to agree before knowing the sorts of things that the House might expect. Further, I knew how much the Armigers meant to them, so surely they were not planning to leave their life's work. Though I tried to reassure them that, were they to decide to do so, I would certainly see them well cared for and mentioned the many perks that come from being the one to bear a child for the House line.

They said that they would never give up the Armigers and that they knew that they could never, on their own, dedicate enough time to a child. Still, they had asked Vivec to allow them the ability to bear children and that was something that they desired.

And then they said something that went straight to my heart. They said they had seen how I cared for my children, particularly Sildras, and so, along with my wealth and access to resources, they knew I would be a good father to their child. I believe they made some off-color comment about whatever else I might be, but their faith in my parenting was clear. And that even as little time as they spent with us, for them to see me as a good parent stirred something primal in me. A sort of fatherly pride, perhaps? I wanted to prove it to them.

Still, I feared that knowing how the House was might run them off. I knew what it had done to Nabine. I did not wish for Tel to have any resentment in future, so I was careful to explain what I could.

Their decision to be hands off would certainly mean that Avon would be able to stay on in the same capacity he already retained. And I knew that if I could get my solicitor involved that I could ensure that the fact that I already had Qau-dar's permission for an ongoing sexual relationship with Tel might well persuade the Council.

Tel was firm that they had no desire to join the House and I promised my solicitor to support them in that as well. Having Tel, a hero and chosen of Vivec, and an Armiger to boot, meant that there was no doubt in the faith and dedication to Morrowind. But also, since Tel had no apparent need to have as tight a grip on the child's upbringing, it meant that the child could be a part of the House and follow whatever assigned duties without fear of what anyone other than I had in mind.

Honestly, it is the only solution that prevents everyone involved from total misery.

Or perhaps I speak too soon.

I rushed to get Avon and share the news, for us to discuss if this might even be feasible. Avon was apprehensive, but eventually decided that it was the only way to stave off his family and the obligatory marriage he so dreaded.

We had a great celebration within the home. I had the servant take the night off and we drank and danced.

And in honor of it all, I had Tel select what they wished to have in their bedroom, for they would be expected to maintain one within my home.

I have drawn up the paperwork and Tel and I go today to submit it to the House Council before Tel leaves to return to Vivec. I tried to convince Tel that we should get more furnishings to their liking, but they waved me off as having what they needed.

While they are gone I will have some custom built furniture. Things that allude to Vivec and the rest of the False Tribunal, but are truly for the True Tribunal. I wish for Tel to be happy, but I can only take but so much of Vivec in my home.

Now, to break the news to Mother.