#there could be some better phrasing in the second part but I don't know enough about crafting hobbies to give better examples

[yesthatsatumbler]

I personally can think of at least three (possibly four) missing options:

actual non-sex toy that's nice to touch/play with, like a plushie or one of those push-pop square things

some kind of hobby/crafting implement, such as a paint set or a pair of pliers

some kind of weapon, such as a sword or a pistol

blahaj (...really a variant of the first option but common enough to mention explicitly)

Other commenters suggested Lego set and I hadn't thought of that option but that probably counts too!

...while writing the tags, thought of another realistic possibility that wouldn't fit into any of the above: a new item for her collection - obviously depending on what she collects it could be any (or multiple) of the previous eight options*, but it could also be, say, a rare coin.

*) ...OK maybe not the blahaj... though TBH I do wonder if there's enough varieties of blahaj out there for someone to start collecting them

When a trans girl tells you she got a "new toy" you never know if she's talking about a sex toy, a submissive trans person that melts with every word she says, or something extremely nerdy that would require a 15 page essay to explain why she likes it.

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Not today

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader

Warnings: hurt, swearing, manipulation, not a happy ending, Chuuya being an asshole

Not proofread

A/N: Hello all. This fic will have 3 or 4 parts. Please note that it's not going to have a happy ending so read at your own discretion.

“I want to break up”

He said the words so effortlessly that you were not sure you were hearing him right.

“What?” Your mind did not understand yet the meaning of his words. It couldn't be. No. It was impossible. But his annoyed and tired sigh had your heart in a grasp, ready to shatter it.

“ I want to break up Y/N. I don't want to continue this any longer.” His tone was empty, no trace of emotion, no trace of love, no trace of your Chuuya. The pain you started to feel was unbearable. Like someone was planting in your heart thousands of shattered glass pieces making it bleed more when it tried to beat. You did not see this coming. How could you when this morning he kissed your sleepy face, told you he is going to miss you throughout the day and that he loves you more than anything. How could you when only some nights ago you were talking about marriage and how you two see the idea of having kids.

“Why?” Your voice was strained, like it did not belong to you. You choked on air, your mind screaming profanities at you. Your body started trembling. You were living your perfect fairytale. Chuuya was the man you were sure was not going to break your heart. Until five minutes ago…

An exasperated sigh left Chuuya's lips. He did not want to do this. It hurt him as much as it hurt you. Maybe even worse. But if this was the only solution he had to keep you safe then he's going to do it. Better two broken hearts than a dead body, your dead body. The next mission was going to last over a year long, abroad, with little possibility and space for outside communication. And the biggest fear he had was that you'll become a target in all this time and Mori told him they can't offer you protection for such a long time. Their resources were limited at the moment with all that was going on, no weakling could be spared for his girlfriend. And if you became a target, he could not do anything to protect you, he wouldn't even find out until is too late and the Mafia “would not organize a rescue mission or give in ransom requests for Y/N”.

“Why does it matter, I want to end things!” He raised his voice feeling guilty. Seeing you flinch, your glossy eyes widen and tears spilling over your face was like pushing the dagger in his own heart. He did not want to give reasons. He hoped you'd magically understand his thoughts and not put up a fight. But how could you, you were fighting for him and he couldn't be happier to know it, but not today.

“Because this morning you told me you loved me, because few nights ago we were talking marriage and children and now you've done a 180 turn so you owe me at least an explanation.” Your voice cracked, your phrase interupted by a pitiful sob. This had to be a nightmare you got to wake up from, right?

Chuuya's gaze soften for a second before going back to his composed icy attitude. He wanted to extend his arm, to pull you close and tell you he is just a coward and he's scared to lose you. He couldn't bear to see you like this. But he needed to cut whatever strings were keeping you close. He knew you well enough to realize that a simple ”I have another girl or I lost feelings” wouldn't work. He had to make you hate him, he had to cut deep so you'd never want to see him again. He had to be the very last thing he wanted to become, an absolute asshole. He was going to rip your heart apart with his words.

“I lied. I never loved you.”

You scoffed. “Fuck you, try something better. You can't fake a year and a half of relationship, being the most loving boyfriend and then tell me it was all a lie.” Your voice was so confident that for two seconds made Chuuya waver in his own decision. You trusted him so much, so blindly and he couldn't be more grateful… but not today. He bit his lip, not wanting to go on that road, a trip of no return. If he's going to attack every vulnerable part of you he was going to break you in multiple ways, but at least you would be safe, right?

He forced a sinister laugh. “See, you're so fucking gullible that you think a Port Mafia executive would not be able to lie. You want to know the truth?? You were just convenient. The good innocent girl who would believe everything that I feed her. You're fucking way to stupid and naive for your own good. I never loved you, I just wanted someone to warm my bed every night without having to worry too much on the how's and who's.” He regretted every word that was coming out of his mouth. He didn't believe any of it. Saying them was like eating glass, he felt his mouth hurting together with his heart when he saw the impact they were having on you.

It was like a dagger that was cutting every fiber of your muscles. Your heart clenched so hard in your chest you though you were having a heart attack. Everything hurt. There wasn't a cell in your body not burning under the cold eyes Chuuya reserved for you today. To say his words hurt was an understatement.

“You're lying”. It was the only thing your vocal cords could articulate.

“If this makes it easier for you, then of course Y/N, I'm lying. But I don't want to do this anymore. You're annoying, I'm tired of your bubbly energy and the way you act all clingy. You're a grown ass woman and act like a freaking teenager. What, you think I like how you're jumping around the bookstore? Or that you act so fucking selfish towards everyone, like there is no bad in the world. I'm so tired of having to act like I'm not killing people on the daily basis around you. Also, I hate how you get all shy when I'm fucking you. Acting all so innocent like you don't like it.” he took a deep breath before speaking again “The only thing good about you is when you shut up and just take it. And even that is such a rarety since you're so fucking sensibile you're always hurting, always bruising easily. I don't love you, I never did. You were nothing more than a bed warmer and I just had enough of you.”

Lies, lies, lies. He adored every part of you. He loved how you would be so excited by some random hardcover book, just because the covers are pretty. How you'd take photos of the sunsets because they were “pieces of art”. The way you folded under his teasing games and how you tried to cover your blushing face. He loved it all. He worshipped you till the moon and back. If you'd ask him for the moon itself he'd ask the god's permission to rip a piece and bring it back to you.

He was trying with all his being not to crack the mask he's put on. If he didn't had the gloves on, he was sure his nails would dig in his palms until blood would come out. Loyalty, he was doing this out of loyalty towards the Mafia and towards yourself. He was doing it out of love. He was doing it out of selfishness. He couldn't bear the idea of the possibility that his world could get you hurt, or worse killed. So his best idea was to hurt you himself so he could push you away from his world, from his blood stained hands. Your sobs brought him back to reality. He looked at you and saw everything he did not want to become. You were hugging your own body while crying and sobbing uncontrollably.

You felt empty, you were in agony. No, it was worse, but you could not point out just a single emotion you were feeling right now. It was like you fell to hell from heaven. And yet, somehow hell seemed a less painful place right now. Every vulnerability you had, he made sure to point it out and twist it against you. Were you so blind to not see that he actually did not love you? You felt useless, an used object, a used doll. All the moments he kissed your insecurities away were mere lies? Everything you were afraid of, came to life. Maybe was it your fault to have let down your defences and let him under your skin, under the layers you kept on for so long. Was he such a good actor after all? You fell to your knees continuing to cry. It was too much, way too much than your fragile heart could endure.

His first instinct was to catch you, to use his ability to help you get down safely. He fought against it and any piece of respect he had for himself vanished when he heard a desperate cry from your scrunched form. He felt a burn in his eyes, tears forming in them. No, he could not screw this up. He turned on his feet giving you his back.

“You can keep this place and the card I have given to you. Take it as compensation for the time you lost with me. If our paths ever cross again you'll act like you don't know me or I'll make a bullet go through your skull.” He walked away, getting out of the shared apartment, while tears were falling down his cheeks. Even though his body was reacting in a very human way, he felt anything but human. He broke the only person who made him feel human. He took a deep breath before taking his phone out and sending a message to Dazai “I need your help”. He had to find a way to protect her from his world now that he cut any strings. He had to protect her from himself.

[cozycottagetarot]

What Do They Fantasize About You 18+

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

I'm experimenting with a different style. -- I've been working on shorter, less structured, formal pacs (and some longer ones). I'm not sure how I feel about it but I'd like to hear your thoughts too! It's 18+ but not explicit. -- I've always shied away from these kinds of readings because I didn't know how to make them authentic and within my comfort zone but I figured it out. It does involve sexual themes but it's not explicit (as in graphic or using strong language.) However, it is not intended for minors, so if your are a minor check out this one here instead.

It's purely for entertainment purposes. -- Don't think I need to explain more. Take what resonates be it all of it, some of it or none at all.

PILE 1 

Your person fantasizes of just watching you. Admiring your body, naked or clothed. Watching you enjoy the little luxuries of life. They might fantasize about you being better than them in a way. I'm not sure what's the correct way to phrase it. More like you're of a higher status than they are, and you giving them your attention is enough. You letting them touch you, not even in an inherently sexual way, is a bonus. They might feel like their status is elevated when they get to be in or on your arm/s. They could fantasize about you turning them on or pleasuring them in a coy manner... You know you’ve got it (it being looks, charm, them wrapped around your finger) and you tease them about it-- but it’s so subtle, so gentle, it dances on the fine line of being oblivious versus intentional. Star/Starlet vibes. They love everything about you, all parts of your body gets attention. They could love your hair, especially if it's of lighter hues, or has red undertones (even for brown hair because some brown hair has hints of more yellow while others are more red).

For some of you it maybe that you’re mildly intimidated by them in some format. Shying away from them in some manner so they give off that let me worship you energy to get you more comfortable with them. Another vibe I pick up on is learning to love something about yourself and being more comfortable in who you are and they’re your cheerleader unconditionally cheering you on. 

PILE 2

I feel like this is someone you had to warm up to. Their energy is one of being very doting, but the energy I’m reading for you is like "ugh, really?" When it comes to this person initially. It feels like someone who wants to reassure you (or wants you to reassure them), wants to make sure they are pleasing you in every and any way they can properly. This extends to outside of the bedroom. If you’ve got a craving, they’re off to get it before you can even think to bat your eyes. They’ve got eyes for no one but you. Heavy on the princess treatment. They may fantasize about taking control, but still in a gentle or compassionate way. They’re in charge but you’re still royalty for the day. They'd want to make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself (more than 'normal'). They may fantasize about having sexual encounters with you in places surrounded by nature. Not anywhere where you could be easily caught though. Fantasies of stealing you away from your responsibilities to have a moment with you. They may favour your chest. I'm also getting soft brushes of the skin with the occasional more forceful touch— how do I describe it? I've talked about this gentleness, but this is more like pulling you closer because they need you in your arms but it's a tad rougher than you'd expect. They could fantasize about light bondage as well. Getting you all dressed up and wining and dining you all while anticipating to take it off. 

Pile 3 

The energy here feels a little bit magical or unreal, like you two mirror each other greatly, or complement one another well. It's as though you two operate as a unit and less so two individuals trying to make something work together. I feel like that makes no sense but whatever. I very much get a "let's stay in and roll around in the sheets all day and night" vibe with this one... although it's more like any surface or room is fair game. This person may favour your behind over anything else. But it's very much a balance of both of you being in control. Very much in sync. There could be lots of taking turns or incorporating different sensory elements as well. An exploration of one another truly. Fantasizing about aftercare is another prominent possibility as well. Cuddling and pillow talk. There's also being spent after you two are through with each other. Or maybe it's a sense of relief and release.��They may fantasize about you the most when they need to blow off steam, (they) just get lost in the thought of being with you. I actually repulled the cards (because there's always one pile) but a few of the same cards kept coming out and it was packed with major arcana. Justice, The Wheel, The Emperor AND The Empress. There’s also the Magician and while I'm not exactly reading the cards how I normally do, it feels like this relationship/connection isn’t ready yet. It's a feeling of something momentous that when it happens, you'll know. That's all I really pick up on there. They could fantasize about just staying in. Maybe both of you are under some kind of scrutiny respective to your social circles or careers. Leaders or innovators of some kind. Or maybe on a more general level, you’ve grown the resolve to not only wear your 'crown', that thing that makes you special, but own it too. A lot of abundant energy and energy of growth. They could really fantasize about shutting out the rest of the world with you. 

Pile 4 

This person seems so much in their feelings I don't know if to laugh, cringe, or cry for them. So much is going on in the cars, like an internal storm wreaking havoc on someone's life. There are undercurrents of them feeling or being selfish too? This person could be a traditionalist of sorts. It comes across as very possessive like they’re off their rocker worrying about you being into other people. BUT HEAR ME OUT! With my post-reading clarity, I think this person is a catastrophiser. So instead of 'hot fantasies' being at the forefront of their mind when thinking of you, anxiety, limiting beliefs or something else may get the best of them. It sounds absurd but if you've been there you know and if not then tell me your secret! Anyway, it could be long-distance relationship and that's the reason why. They may fantasize about being able to touch your body. They may like to play footsies. You could be very attractive and so they’re worried about losing you to someone else and it’s literally making them crazy. A third-party situation seems likely as well, real but most likely imagined. 

Because this isn't a psych analysis, I pulled more cards. Quickies and stolen moments are the vibe for this pile. Initially, I wrote something about it that just seems so wrong but again I think it's more of not allowing oneself to fantasize about good things happening. I could only keep describing it as if being in the mind of someone tormented. Fantasies of finding home within you but something lingering in the distance, never really enjoying one to fully enjoy the moment unless their eyes are closed. They could have fantasies of having influence over you... being able to convince you to stay. (more so if you two are together physically instead of having to separate in distance again). Fantasies of holding you tight. Wishing they could give themselves to you fully.

While I was reading a song that came to me was 'Lose You' by Sam Smith — word for word that song embodied a lot of the emotions and energy I was picking up.

[knoxic]

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 2,1k

warnings: miscommunications (but really there's almost no communication at all), self deprecating thoughts, mentions of death, ptsd, insomnia, anxiety, grief(?), angst,

i think that's it but please let me know if there's anything else!

a/n: this work implies that Hotch heard Haley's last breath. timeline is around season 6-7 but it doesn't really matter. this is heavily based on my own experience from death and hearing someone's last breath. Hotch is a little out of character but it'll get better i promise, this was supposed to be something just for myself but i decided to post it, that being said, im already writing part 2!

no use of y/n!

He was distant. 

He kept avoiding you, every day, even when you got back to the hotel and had no other choice but to be around each other, he showered and said some casual phrases that could damn well be said to a stranger.

You tried to understand, he was stressed and haven't slept well in days but, fuck, wasn't it happening to everyone else? And they weren't avoiding you...

Asking if he wanted something to eat or if he wanted that shitty coffee just got you a cold and empty answer. "No, thanks.", "I've had enough for today, thank you.", "I'll just finish some files," and etc. Sure he was polite, you don't think Hotch could be rude even if he wanted to, at least not with someone he was close to, but he was always so gentle and warm, had you done something to make him mad?

It started off just as every other day started, a new case in a city you've never been to before. Sharing a room with your boss meant a different routine than if you shared with anyone else in the team, late nights and early mornings, the sound of pen scratching paper being the first thing you heard when waking up and the last when you were drifting off, you wondered if he even slept at all.

The answer was no, he barely ever slept during a case, especially if he could hear you breathing all night. 

He was scared, scared it would happen again. It was unrealistic and he knew, it happened too many times already, but twice like that was terrifying.

Terrifying to the point he was paralyzed, every night you whispered that sweet "Good night, Hotch." and it flipped the switch, he would now spend the night awake to make sure that you would tell him "Good morning, Hotch" in a gentle yet strong voice. That whisper sounded enough like the gasp he heard that one time, and it always immediately set off every trigger he had of that unfortunate day.

Every night he spent with you in the same room he tried to distract himself enough not to hear your steady breaths, finishing random files that weren't so important and sometimes even going as far as writing them twice. When he got tired enough to pass out, he would lie down and hope that the second his head hit the uncomfortable pillow he would be asleep. 

It never happened.

He kept listening. You sometimes tossed and turned in your sleep, and he knew it meant you were probably having nightmares but it always soothed his mind. If you were moving it meant you were still alive, and the rustling of the sheets downed out the agonizing sound of your breath.

Sometimes he slept, but even when he did, he kept listening, gunshots echoed inside his head, his aching hands clad with blood holding her body, the sound... the horrific, terrifying, agonizing sound of her last breath.

He thought it had stopped, he has triggers of course but, it wasn't always that they were set off like this, usually it happened sometimes when Jack slept on his chest and that meant carrying him to bed, but he normally allowed himself a bit of self care and went to his own room, close enough from his child to hear if he called but far enough to not hear his steady breaths. Being stuck in a hotel room did not allow him that. He tried soundproof headphones after the second night they spent together a couple years ago, he quickly figured it was somehow more agonizing than being able to hear.

Now three days into the case, he was desperate for a night alone, to drown in complete silence and darkness. Thankfully, yet not what he wanted, you had gone to Emily's room to discuss something, he didn't know what it was and apparently you didn't care enough to tell him, or you just didn't want him to know.

He held himself from sprinting to bed right after you left the room, surely it wouldn't look so good if you were to come back because you forgot something or for any other reason, he let a couple minutes pass by, anxiously so, before he got up to take the fastest shower he could manage and jumped into bed, he almost decided against clothes before reminding himself that sooner or later you would come back. It took more time than he'd like but finally he was drifting off, quicker than expected.

"Emily..." you whimpered.

"Come on... it's Hotch," she rested a hand on your shoulder, "he's probably just going through something. I heard him tell Rossi last week that Jack was having some troubles in school, it might be that, right?"

"Yeah, but I feel like..." Emily was the only one who knew about your confusing feelings for Hotch and still you hesitated, "I feel like it's something else... he's been avoiding me and rarely looks me in the eye when we talk."

Emily went silent for a few seconds, looking away and seemed to be deciding carefully what to say.

"Listen, you know I love you and support anything you do, but..." oh God "You should talk to him, not me."

"I came to you exactly because I don't want to talk to him, even if I tried I don't think he would answer." You gave her the most pleading puppy eyes you could manage. 

"There's only one way to find out, honey."

After a few more minutes of licking your wounds you gathered yourself enough to face Aaron, walking a little too fast to your shared room just to make sure you wouldn't have time to back down and run back to Emily. Thinking too many things and nothing at all just to distract yourself you ended up opening the door loudly, scaring yourself when the lights were off and you could barely make out the person under the blankets.

Did you really just open a random door? Fuck! 

In your panic state your eyes caught a glimpse of Aaron's bag close to his bed, some files slipped out from it when he drastically dropped it earlier. Without realizing, you slipped into the room and closed the door quieter than you had opened it, unsure if Aaron was indeed asleep or if he was pretending just so he wouldn't have to talk to you, a shower seemed to be the best thing to do.

It was weird, a part of you knew he was tired, and going to sleep without someone else in the room is sometimes a lot easier, but, the bigger part of you kept thinking that he was doing this just to avoid you, to not have to force out a "Good night." when both of you knew it wasn't good for him, and it hurt.

Shower was indeed a good thing, the warm water doing wonders to your aching muscles and the sound of the water running was a good background for your mind to organize your thoughts. That same sound was what Aaron woke up to.

Looking around searching for what had woken him, he saw the light coming from the bathroom, the door didn't close all the way sometimes, you had to close it hard and he supposed you didn't want to make noise. He searched for his phone to check the time, see how long it took you to come back, but in his hustle earlier he had forgotten to pick up his phone, wherever it was he didn't feel like getting up to search for it.

In his sleepy state he had turned to watch the door, not really paying attention to what he was looking out for until he got a glimpse of you wrapping a towel around your body, he hadn't even that noticed the sound of the water had stopped, snapping himself out of whatever this was he turned away from the door, right before he saw the light getting brighter and your quiet barefoot steps getting closer, a zipper being opened, rustle of fabric and the zipper being closed, steps again but this time going away and the room getting darker again.

It didn't take long for you to come back, he could smell the soap you always used, it only took him a couple days sharing a room and a bathroom with you to know that every soap and perfume you used smelled mostly the same.

It almost physically pained him to not be able to smell it directly from your skin, he had hugged you and stood close enough to smell your perfume he knew it wasn't the same as your fresh out of the shower scent. It already smelled so comforting from this far, he was certain he'd go insane if he ever got the chance to hug you like this, out of any police department or hospital smell, just you. 

He was so lost in thought he hadn't realized you had already settled in bed.

"Good night, Hotch..." he heard you whisper, so quietly he almost missed it, it made his heart stutter and beat faster.

Did you know he was awake? Did you see him looking at you through the open door? He didn't see anything but the skin of your arms! Should he answer? No. Stop it, idiot.

You turned again, again and again. The mattress was hard, the blanket kept scratching your bare legs, the pillow made you feel like a stone would be comfier, not to mention the discomfort of having your mind tell you how uncomfortable Aaron must be that he even went to bed earlier just so he wouldn't have to see you. You must be so pathetic to even have wished him a good night when he clearly didn't want you here–

"Are you okay?" There it was, his husky voice, he was sleeping and you disturbed him. 

"Uh–yeah, sorry to wake you up." Wow, that came out so weak, he definitely thinks you're pathetic.

The sound of his body turning and his voice right beside your ear made you shiver. 

"You keep tossing and turning, your breath is faster than normal," he sighed. "So I'll ask again, are you okay?" It's now or never.

"Have you–you've been avoiding me." You could hear Emily's voice saying it wasn't so hard was it?

"No I haven't." That came out way too fast to be true, Hotchner.

"Yes you have, and you can barely even look at me when we're alone, you give me empty words and talk better to a rookie you'll never see again," you were rambling but now there was no way you would stop. "If I did something to upset you, please tell me. Because, I can profile you but I cannot read your mind yet, and I can't apologize if I don't know what I did wrong." 

"I-" God, you were so self deprecating. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way, you did nothing wrong." He spoke in a weirdly soft voice.

"That–that doesn't make me feel better..."

"I'm sorry... it's... not something you did..." Well, if you were talking then he should too, "It's you."

A couple seconds passed, they felt like minutes.

Your heart dropped, "What?" It couldn't be... you knew you weren't perfect but, to know your mind was right yet again felt... nauseous.

"Wait! wait," he was sitting up now, back to the headboard, making a calm down gesture with his hands, he did that once with a child, to make them stop their rambling, you really were pathetic.

"Not you, I meant... Fuck, it's complicated."

Now that you were already broken, you might as well just finish this, end what made you anxious for once, even if it meant losing your hopes of being with him.

Your breath was harder and lost its rhythm. You could be going into a panic attack right now but Aaron was relieved, after hearing the way your voice got so... pained, he thought he ended this, that you would get up and leave him. The memories came back in a rush that made him dizzy, but you were still here, and breathing hard, unlike the breath Haley–

"Then tell me, unless you have something else to do at 2am. I think we have enough time, tell me. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as complicated as what we had going on." Your voice was steady, no longer panicked and embarrassed like someone who just got rejected by their crush, that was the voice of a person who took down serial killers for a living, who could damn well talk face to face with him if they were to fight. Now he felt small, he could tower over you if you two were standing up but he knew you were the bigger person.

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, and Jack - Leech twins - Azul

- (Wander)San? Where are you going? No running!- shouted Crewel. - Sorry! 'going to the bathroom! - I excused continuing my rush. - You better not skip PE pup.- - Don't worry professor, they will not. - reassured Ace. - What time is it... Damn it! I'm already late. - I entered the toilet with the gym bag.

---

A couple of hours later, period finished, I heard our Homeroom teacher from afar - (Wander)San? Again? No running! And where are you going in...- - To the bathroom! - - But...Make sure not to be lat...Never mind. - and after eying me a second time, he noticed I was still wearing the sports uniform.

- At least the professors, I'm not asking much right? - I mumbled angrily. - This stupid secrecy...I can't even take a decent shower after gym. - I grumbled some more in the empty bathroom, doing the little I could with the sponge and the water of the sink.

Uncle

- Uncle Leona was so cool at Magift! - Cheered the little intruder sitting on my lap. After the excitement of seeing his relative, since I was the only one giving him attention, he decided to crawl up the sheets and vent.

- Veeery cool! He was * pwah and then *shwah and then "GOOOAL... Wait...wrong sport. - I recalled the last match. - But do you know who's even cooler? - I smirked - The one who can Even defeat your uncle? - I dropped my voice down like telling him a mighty secret.

- Watch your tongue Herbivore - threaten the aforementioned. The kid giggled jumping up and down on my knees - Who is it? Who is it? - I cupped a hand to my mouth and waved him closer. - Is Cheka! - And I boopped his nose singing. - 'Cause, 🎶 you're gonna be the main event like no king was before. Brushing up on looking down, and working on your roar! 🎶-

- So loud - groaned the prince. - Hahahhaa yes!!! - The kid's strong cheers covered his lament - Have you heard Uncle Leona? Uncle (Yuu) says I'm the coolest!- Exclaimed the lion cub to the teenager lying in another cot.

- Pfha, She's not an uncle, and I don't care. - - He's right, I wouldn't Dare take the title from him...- *Pause - Wait, what have you just said? - - I don't care. - responded the boy -...are we really playing this game? Before that. - - You are not an uncle - and after another suspension added - an aunty perhaps. -

.... - EH????? - Death dropped everyone in the room. Some shocked by the new information, some from the fact that He knew about the secret. I quickly went to his side and bent to face the splatted prince. Cheka followed suit amused by my shocked face. - Wh-what are you talking ab...- but the smirk on his face told me I couldn't deny anything. - But,... How did you know???-

- W-wait, so (Yuu), you really...you really?...- floundered Jack. Deuce and Ace went beside him to pat his shoulders. - I didn't know either. - added Ruggie stepping away. - So, I was actually careful... - I mumbled referring to the astonished duo.

- Hahahhaa Uncle (Yuu) pick me up! - jumped the kid. Too stunned to realize the probable state crime accuse I could face, I hopped him on my hip. - Leona... How,...when?- - Entry ceremony. - - Eeeh? So soon... - - You threw the cape on the cat. That black shirt is fitting.- - B-but,... it was kinda dark.- - I can see well enough. - - But it could've been... a wrinkle of the clothes. -

- The morning after you snooped around our business I saw you two little detectives at the entrance and I eavesdropped. I needed to make sure you stayed in your place. - Then he smirked - Mmmm if I recall it was something about a stunning boy calling you a little lady and a crop top rather than an XXL t-shirt. - Jack was now redder than before, and Adeuce facing each other questioningly. - Phrasing...so misapprehended.- I pouted. Then he nodded towards me - And you smell girly. -

I rolled my eyes. - I may be hiding but I don't wanna smell like..."Refreshing", "Boss", "Sport" - I mumbled - Okay okay you got it right. Just... Please guys, the headmaster wants it to be a secret, something about management...school stuff. So keep it to yourself yeah?- - Just that?... Not telling me to treat you right? - asked the prince half joking. - Treat me...? It doesn't change anything, I'm still (Yuu). Treat me like always. - ... - Well I mean SOMETIMES you could be a little nicer with everyone...- but he quickly stopped me with a daring growl.

- Take your uncle good company Cheka - I whispered - Pour on him some more cute... I mean coolness. - he nodded and pounced on his uncle. - I can't believe Leona beat me at this too. - commented Grim realizing he wasn't the first to find out about my identity.

Squeeze

The audacity of this monster… 

- Oh… so it is like that ah? - I rose from the seat at the table. The calm tone in my voice was mismatched by a terrifying shadow behind my eyes. - I wouldn't dare embarrass the Great mage Grim. Since I'm a good-for-nothing human my help would be a nuisance.- I took a breath and pondered - After all you already made the wiser decision. Instead of accepting my, free, invitation to study together, you went straight to the smart student. - and I flicked the anemone on his head. - I'm sure with your sharp mind you'll be out of the situation in no time. - The trio gulped. Not even when they accidentally corroded my potion notebook they saw me that angry.

- Awww Koebi-chan, don't be upset. - chirped Floyd smiling. - Working him to the bone would be a good lesson teaching. What do you say, Prefect? - added Jade with malice, Grim shivered from head to toe. - You are so cute Shrimpy. Let me help you the best way I know...- and before either I or Jack could do anything he grabbed and pulled my arm towards him. -...a hug to squeeze all this anger away. - - NOOO!!!! - screamed Adeuce.

The strong hold on me soon came loose. My face was flat on his torso, I looked up and confusion was plastered all over his face. - I'll consider your kind offer guys. And thank you for the sentiment, Floyd. - sarcasm dripping from my every word. I slipped off his hold and walked out sending a wave to my friends, Jack in silence followed and threw a glare at everyone left behind.

---

The three got dragged away by the anemone while Floyd stood still with his arms held lightly out. Jade spoke up - I swore you were going to give your usual...- - Soft...- murmured the other. - Excuse me? - - I think I'll need another test. - snapped the hugger. - Azul wants us back to the lounge. - stopped him his brother while he aimed for our direction.

---

- So ahem. Do you still want to go? Do you want me to ruffle them up perhaps? - asked Jack after a good minute of silence. I sighed - Of course, I'll go, I don't want to let them down. - A minute passed and mortified by my reaction I excused myself - Sorry for that. I was so frustrated.- - Don't worry, honestly, I think he deserved much worse, I could tell you were very hurt, I'm sorry. - - don't be... But thank you, Jack, for everything! You are so kind, I'm really glad we became friends. - All his might crumbled in a blushing mess.

- S-so *ah-hem do you think he figured it out? The moray I mean. - - Probably.- I responded firmly.

---

- Azarashi-chan...- Floyd crept on the grey cat. - Can I squeeze out of you a couple of things about dear Shrimpy? - said with a toothy smile that Grim knew better to confront with anything but assent.

Debt

- Your voice could be useful, but I'm already in stock. - As we sat on the plush couches of Azul's study we discussed the possible contract to free my friends. Jade lowered himself to whisper in the dorm's leader's ear. - WHAT??? - his collected gentlemanly persona completely slipped for a second, making me and Jack jump on the spot.

Azul covered his mouth looking me up and down, blushing again, and whispered back - Is it certain? - and the twins nodded. - But I would gladly test again... Koeeebi-chan can I give you another squeeze? - I found the heterochromatic eyes bored closely into mine. Jack growled receiving a lopsided smile

- So... (Yuu)san - continued the "mafia boss". - I think you might be already in debt with us, fufufu. - - For what? - I arched my brow. - Well, it would be a shame after all your good work in concealing your true identity...- -...good work...*PFFF...ask the other eleven. - I laughed - And here I thought you did a little digging. - I mumbled - I owe you nothing. I don't care at all to hide that I'm a girl, I'm doing it because the headmaster asked me to. He's worried that it would cause him problems or something. Honestly, I would gladly stop wrapping my chest in cloth and wear ALL the time baggy clothes. They are cute, don't get me wrong, but I would like some flattery sometimes. - I rumbled.

Awkward from my brutal honesty, he adjusted his glasses to compose himself and asked diplomatically - You're not worried about the consequences with Crowley? - - About you finding out? Because Floyd forcefully grabbed me and felt my boobs? No, I'm not. - - You Found Out How??? - sharply asked the mage. Floyd shrugged. - Yeah, and it was very soft. Then I kindly asked Azarashi-chan and he confirmed. - An irk formed on my forehead, Grim was truly getting on my nerves.

Recomposing I pointed - However, you spreading this information is a willing choice. So... I dunno, aren't You worried about the consequences? - He smirked - Not at all, now I have something else against..eh*hem...to discuss with our dearest headmaster. - then sighed heavily -...perhaps this might not be useful for our predicament after all.- returned to his composed self. - L-let's return to our main topic. Shall we? -

I know their surname is Leech… but they are Moray and you can’t tell me otherwise.

[mierulii]

˚*  ੈ✩‧₊ Charon's (Translated) Bio

I was reading through the dppt documents and came across Charon's bio among a few other platinum characters and some interesting diagrams.

I wanted to focus on Charon's in particular though because I found some tidbits interesting! Please do read more if you're interested―

(Keep in mind though that I'm relying on a machine translation as I am not fluent enough, I also tried to make sense of some shakier translations by adding additional context/alterations, those will be in blue. Please do not view this as a professional translation, I really just want to share what I find and learn as I go.)

please click on the image for better viewing!

* Meiōsei (冥王星) refers to the dwarf planet's Japanese name btw^^

A lot of the character bios in the documents list the Japanese pronouns they use to refer to themselves and others, Charon uses the following:

* "washi" is used by older men and is often (stereotypically) used in fictional/western dialects to denote characters of old age. Apparently this pronoun isn't very common anymore. * "watashi" is a more common pronoun but he rarely uses this. It's also used mostly by women but (supposedly) can come across as stiff when used by males in a casual context.

The second-person pronouns are where it gets interesting, but I'm not sure if one or the other isn't used or if both are unused in JP versions of Platinum.

* "onushi" which literally means "Master", is an archaic pronoun used by samurai and elders when speaking to people of equal or lower rank which seems fine, but reading a bit more into it, this could be seen as a turn of phrase that comes off as rude? Like maybe Charon would use this to talk down to others in a sort-of condescending manner. * "sonata" is a mesial deictic pronoun, so this was used in previous eras as a lightly respectful one but not so much anymore. What makes it interesting is that when used now, it carries a pompous and old-fashioned tone when used in speaking to inferiors (which in this context could be the grunts or maybe the other commanders and even Cyrus if we're going by the age differences.)

Again, while these second-person pronouns may not have been used if we're going by the translation in the bio, it does make sense for Charon considering the way he speaks to the other Team Galactic members in-game and why many of them are visibly put-off, even more so when we remember that he only recently joined Galactic and is the most junior among his fellow commanders.

This part's a bit more ramble-y (and mildly speculative) mainly because it's got me thinking a lot about his presence in-game and how it ties with his bio.

We now know why we don't fight him story-wise. He's a novice when it comes to battling, which also explains why he only ever seems to accompany the other commanders throughout the main story and has grunts do the dirty work for him in the post-game's Stark Mountain. (We can also say that it's mainly because he's old and just a scientist, but that didn't stop the other scientists in the HQ from engaging the player in a fight, what more for trainers like Spenser and Drayden who are 88 and 69 years old respectively? Surely even a spry, young...71 year old can pick up a pokeball if they wanted.)

On the topic of his motivations, we're all very much aware of his love for money, but the bio also makes mention of a philosophy regarding happiness being tied to science along with the distortion of this through greed. Of course, both Pokespe and DPA focus on and highlight his greed and need for control through capturing legendary pokemon or usurping Cyrus. Or both. We also see this in-game. However, If we go by the anime, Charon seems less invested in his boss's goals and more on the scientific discoveries to be made in pursuit of said ambitions. While his greed and backhandedness is on the spotlight for most of his appearances, we do get glimpses of another side to him where he does show some genuine interest in whatever he is immersed in, such as the Valley Windworks mission where he comments on the electricity he and Mars had stolen or even the Mysterious Notebook he authored (NOT the Old Notebook, mind you), where he goes over his "findings" on Rotom. Make no mistake, it's all done in the name of getting all the credit for its discovery, but it does say a lot that he's willing to do extra/extensive research on Rotom beyond what he "found". With the bio in mind, I wonder if the belief he carried was always distorted or if it somehow came to be that way down the line and that he used to be more into it for the knowledge and discovery in the past rather than for personal gain/profit.

This is the part I wanted to go over the most, but it'll also be the most speculative one because there are still pieces to the puzzle that are missing buuuuuut―

So it's very much established in both Platinum and his bio in the design document that Charon is amoral enough to steal and plagiarize for his personal gain; the latter mentioning that it wasn't just research papers, but inventions as well. The Mysterious Notebook is what makes this interesting, because Charon writes the following at the beginning and end of the entry:

With this in mind, it brings into question just how and where he acquired information on Rotom in the first place before he added in his own tests and findings. Pure chance is a stretch to be sure, there is only one Rotom in-game and only one other account of its existence, The Old Notebook. So now the question isn't a matter of where and how, but from whom. After all, why would he need to "keep his research a secret" to "ensure he gets all the credit" if he was the original author? Another thing that the bio establishes is that Charon judges people based on how useful they are to him, and in Platinum, he has (somewhat indirectly) mentioned his reasons for joining Team Galactic in the first place:

What I'm getting at here is that Charon determined it was in his best interest to join Team Galactic because he figured that with the resources at his disposal as a commander along with his boss's ambitions, he would have a lot to gain from doing so. And now that we also know of his penchant for the theft of anything related to his field, who among the ranks of the organization is the most useful to him in terms of both the means and the ends? His boss. Cyrus.

Whose to say that Charon hadn't tried to steal anything from him? Platinum had also gone out of its way to establish that Cyrus possessed a knack for tinkering along with a keen intellect from the times the player interacted with him along with supplementary information from certain objects and accounts from NPCs:

Fellow staff and scientists aside, Charon's best bet for finding something worth plagiarizing and stealing would be his own superior's works. Suddenly, Rotom's Room being where it is makes sense, it's far from the main HQ on the other side of the region in a backwater town where there aren't a lot of staff nor grunts posted. Even with his junior standing, Charon still most likely held some form of authority and could pull a few strings to either build or repurpose a spare room just to stash his haul away from Cyrus's eyes. (Or at least, as far away from it as he could manage.) And despite the lack of concrete, definitive confirmation, it's clear that the Old Notebook's entries were written in a way that did not reflect Charon's own manner of speech and writing; especially when taken into account that it was written long ago by a child with an unusually advanced vocabulary and stiff formality in tone. There really is only one person who would fit the child's description perfectly. We all already know/have an idea of who this is of course, but it's an interesting thought nonetheless; how Charon managed to get his hands on something that should never have reached him.

This is all just speculation, though! But if you made it this far, thank you for reading.

I'd love to see people talk about Charon a little more since he's honestly the most neglected (and forgotten!) commander, but surprisingly amusing and refreshing to see him stick out as a more Team Rocket-esque villain rather than how the rest of his colleagues act and present themselves.

If I made any errors with the translations, feel free to clarify or make additional remarks.

Also it's 10 in the morning and I haven't slept at all since yesterday. Help.

[savagewildnerness]

The Vampire Lestat notes...

OK, so I am taking part in a The Vampire Lestat read along on Discord (organised by @old-long-john& @inkyblotposts!)

Don’t expect me to be this in detail every week as I absolutely cannot… but I realised I went SO in detail with my notes/thoughts on my read of the first part that I can’t share it all on Discord! Hahaha!  So, instead, I’ll post it here, link it there and maybe you’d like to discuss here too? Look, I don't do things by halves, OK!? So did I write nearly as many notes as there likely are words in this part of the book? Maybe... And...?!?!?!?! But this is my Tumblr and so I can post the notes in full here and what's more, I WILL!

Introduction:

I enjoy how out-of-touch with 'the youth' of the 1980's Lestat sounds and I hope that the TV show retains this in some way. Lestat, of course, would be pretty out of place in the modern era in some ways in how he speaks, particularly given that it seems the majority of the last century he's been hibernating with a plank piano and an iPad..?

Lestat says that "there was a romance" to modern music and I'm so curious if that's how he'll feel about some kind of modern music now, or, whether Lestat’s rock star career will just be 100% about Louis on the TV show?

"the way electricity could stretch a single note forever; the way harmony could be layered upon harmony until you felt yourself dissolving in the sound. So eloquent of dread it was, this music." - This reads to me like a musical description of vampirism?!

It makes me laugh when we juxtapose how Louis and Lestat describe how broken and scared of everything he is in his wilderness years in the books... yet Lestat here is like "Yeah, I was a bit scared... but in THREE DAYS I was roaring around on a motorbike...!" hahahah... I don't know whether to believe you or not, Lestat?! I also note here that it's impossible for Lestat's strength to have increased like it has here in the book on TV as he's already too strong on the show for that!

Quote I thought might be used on the show - "All people had a right to love and to luxury and to graceful things.”

Potential episode title - "Pure evil has no real place."

Surely this quote will be on tv… “It was enough to make an Old World monster go back into the earth, this stunning irrelevance to the mighty scheme of things, enough to make him lie down and weep. Or enough to make him become a rock singer, when you think about it…”

I was interested how Lestat describes how he jams with the musicians. Will The Vampire Lestat's music incorporate old French songs and brutal rhythms - eerie and disjointed music, as Lestat describes his playing?

"When I Iose my confidence, my powers drain." Found that interesting…

We'd better see Lestat standing stock still beneath a street light, whipping through IWTV at an insane speed till he exasperatedly tears it to shreds on TV!

Lestat dreams of "unprecedented rebellion, a great and horrific change to my kind all over the world." !!!

Lestat had better use the phrase "A velvet-lined motor coach" on telly! MAKE IT SO ROLIN! Please!

The ache for Louis Lestat has - for “his romantic illusions”, “his gentlemanly malice and his physical presence, the deceptively soft sound of his voice.”

There's a self-destructive excitement to how Lestat talks of being hunted and known "as no mythic monster has ever been fought by man before.”

Lestat's psychology… “How could I not love it, the mere idea of it?  How could it not be worth the greatest danger, the greatest and most ghastly defeat?  Even at the moment of destruction, I would be alive as I have never been.”

Lelio Rising.

So first of all… I noted the timeline as I went this time:

Lestat kills the wolves aged 20 (he specifically states that he is 20 on p38 if you have the new UK paperback version of the book… “The Winter of my 21st year” - your first year you are aged 0… when you turn 1 that is your second year.  So Lestat’s 21st year is from the day he turns 20 until the day before he turns 21.

As far as I can tell, all of Lelio Rising takes place when Lestat is 20 (apart from the flashbacks when he is younger.)  Lestat meets Nicolas and they begin their conversation as Winter turns to Spring in the year he is 20…. He first performs as Lelio in late-August of the year he is 20… and he talks of seeing Magnus in October of that year… soon after which, he is made a vampire.  Thus, I think Lestat will have been made a vampire weeks/days before he turns 21.  I’d personally like to imagine it happens on Halloween.

Regarding Lestat’s family… Gabrielle has 8 children.  The oldest boy is Augustin… there is one girl, but we don’t even know where she came in the birth order.  Lestat is the youngest boy.  Only one more boy survives… a boy whom for whatever reason, Lestat doesn’t mention by name even once!!?!

How Lestat self-describes: The dreamer, the angry one, the complainer, the hunter, unhappy, ferocious, a wild creature, bitter (haha, I typed BUTTER first!)

OK… on to the chapter!

The book starts describing the Winter and I was struck by how later in the chronicles, Lestat will often dream of this snow and how this bitter Winter is the opposite of death for a vampire - who die in fire or The Sun…

“In the winter of my twenty-first year, I went out alone on horseback to kill a pack of wolves.”  Wouldn’t that have been magnificent as the actual first line of the novel?!  Just saying…!  I mean, it kind of *is* the first line!  I wonder if Anne wrote the introduction first, or this?

Lestat being brought back with his wings broken made me see Nicolas’ mind-bird in my mind.

“White-wigged Parisians in high-heeled satin slippers” was so redolent of Louis and Lestat at the Mardis Gras ball in S1 to me.

“Though I speak of them as dogs now, they were known only by their names to me then.”  What a beautiful, sideways way of expressing what the dogs meant to Lestat.

I love how hunter-Lestat is described almost like a beast himself and it makes me so excited to see this on screen.  I also love the way he understands the wolves’ strategy - thinking like the wolves think.  We’re gonna see a FLAIL, folks!

Lestat’s horse’s death is the first truly gothic description…. It always makes me wonder too whether that Lestat found it in himself to kill his horse in mercy for her suffering isn’t as much a reason for Magnus to pay attention to him as the fact that he killed the wolves? Also I’ve begun to notice Anne Rice loves to compare things to insects…

When Augustin says Lestat didn’t kill the wolves, then retracts it & Lestat says the next thing he knew he was lying alone in his room… I mean… it can be read at face value, but I also wonder - is there something that happened here that Lestat doesn’t write?  And if so, might the TV show go there?

Breaking the bullet points up as tumblr won't let me post...

I noticed a lot of what Lestat will later seek in his relationships and how he is in relationships in his relationship with Gabrielle.  Gabrielle is not a touching-person, but the moments she allows a tiny bit of conversation… it leans into me thinking of Lestat and Nicolas’ conversation… the way she gives him gifts and *things* when he struggles… it creates Lestat the gift-giver, it seems to me…?  This is how he is shown love and so this is how he learns to give love.  The way withdraws surely creates Lestat’s sense of being “too much” as much as his Father and brother telling him his is ‘wrong’ does?

“I wanted to be enclosed forever with people who believed I could be good if I wanted to be.” - I wonder if the TV show will go down the route of Lestat’s quest for goodness?  I hope so!  At this time, I think 12-year-old Lestat found goodness in the order of the monastery versus the chaos he felt in the family castle (haha, the family castle!) And I also feel like he felt goodness in being made “ordered” rather than “chaotic” himself.  However, I don’t think Lestat would have been happy in the end in so restrictive a place, much as I am sure he would have loved learning.

Gabrielle buys Lestat his first mastiff puppies, a good horse and a rifle when he is 12.  She creates Lestat-the-hunter.  She later will say she feels Lestat is the man in her, the man she cannot be in this era.  And she literally chooses what Lestat will be.  She doesn’t teach him to read, even though she knows his curiosity to learn, even from the way he talks.  No, she decides the boy will become a hunter and so Lestat does.  Becoming a hunter is also something that will bond him more tightly to his home.  It’s not something that’s ever going to lead to a route to escape for him.  Teaching Lestat to read might have led to Lestat fleeing for Paris far sooner…. I don’t know.  Gabrielle will later say she kept Lestat prisoner as surely as his Father and brothers and I really felt that on this re-read…. Even when Lestat runs away with the theatre at 16 and so Gabrielle truly then knows how Lestat wants to escape… what does she buy him?  A fancier rifle.  A thing to keep him more tightly where he is, hunting here for the family.  She begins to talk to Lestat in conversation.  But it’s like she’s placating on both sides - so Lestat will stop getting beaten (to keep him here) and so he’ll have just-enough mental stimulation to keep him where he is too: here with her…?  I understand it from her perspective.  Imagine how alone she’d be otherwise.  But it’s interesting to me.

“The silent ebb and flow of life felt deadly to me.” - surely Lestat will say this on TV?

I got annoyed thinking about Lestat playing Harlequin as I read the Commedia Dell’ Arte talking about how an actor plays a single role for life… although… metaphorically, could we say Lestat truly *is* kind of playing Lelio for life once he is immortal?!

After Lestat returns from the theatre, this is when he really begins to despair and to believe he will never be free.  I was struck by how he says he becomes more useful in this time.  Isn’t it often the way - with no hope for his own future, he sinks into the role of provider and caregiver and the only way he can ‘be good’…. It also makes me think how in the future, when in despair, Lestat will rush to *do* some mad scheme or other.

Hahaha at Lestat valuing his Mother’s physical beauty as having inherent value, the vain little irritant!

I did wonder, when Lestat tells Gabrielle how he dreams of killing his family… given how they have made all the characters worse on the show, I really HOPE they don’t make Lestat LITERALLY kill his family.  It crossed my mind that they *could*… PLEASE DO NOT.  I don’t think they will as it counters the ensuing conversation, but I had a sudden flash of FEAR!

This conversation though, Gabrielle takes Lestat seriously.  She always takes Lestat seriously, which I love her for.  Much as I believe Gabrielle doesn’t love Lestat enough… I think it’s probably pretty rare and a very special thing for a parent to take the thoughts of their child and who they are so seriously and not to dismiss them?

Gabrielle seems to love Lestat more now he’s 20 as she can see him as a man rather than as her son.  She likes to talk to him as if he were not her son.  She hates to be called Mother.  She seems to love to feel him as a comrade.  And I will say here that if I feel Lestat isn’t loved enough by Gabrielle… his brothers… she literally despises them.  I know they seem awful, but imagine not receiving even one iota of love in your entire life from your mother, which must be their experience.

“You don’t have to take upon yourself the burden of murder or madness to be free of this place.  Surely there must be other ways.” - This is the spark that makes Lestat first believe he might not have to be obedient in order to be “good”.

I love Gabrielle’s quote “I am purely myself.  I belong to no one.”

I love too that even in this introduction we get Lestat the hunter, the killer juxtaposed with Lestat the aesthete and Lestat the thinker, feeler and (he wishes!) learner…

Little break, because my favourite time is now starting - it’s Nicolas time!

Lestat describes Nicolas (at different times) as: a vision, witty, dismissive, sneering, excited, sarcastic, intelligent, melancholy, cynical, bitter, full of energy, passionate, handsome, ironical, sad, scornful, mocking, miserable, weary, dejected.

Will Nicolas say “I too am impossible, Monsieur.  Only the impossible can do the impossible.”  Surely he will, and surely “Only the impossible can do the impossible” will be the title of the episode where Lestat kills the wolves?

Lovely foreshadowing that Gabrielle says Nicolas was inspired to play violin by watching a virtuoso so impressive people said he sold his soul to the devil and then suggests that maybe Nicki can do the same.  “I laughed a little uneasily.  It sounded tragic.”  Oh Lestat, you have NO IDEA!!!!!

Will Mozart be in S3?  I HOPE SO (& think so!!?!).  And Marie Antoinette, too!  Surely!

Obviously we’ll hear Nicki’s Father was threatening to break his hands for the foreshadowing too!

��I think I loved him already, doing what he wanted like that.”  A few pages later… “I think I loved him.”  Lestat falls hard and fast, like love at first sight.

I just want to add here that it’s an absolutely ridiculous concept that Nicolas STARTS playing the violin aged 20 and immediately is able to be as good as he gets!  He might feel he can never be good enough… but he must be literally a genius if he’s become even that good at the violin when he’d never even picked one up a year ago! How do you think playing an instrument works, Anne?!?!?!?!  You just pick it up and instantly - BAM you not only can just do it, but you’re great!  If only!  And Mozart is willing to take on a complete beginner as a pupil, too?!

In Lestat and Nicolas’ first conversation, it feels to me as though Lestat is infecting Nicolas with his light and optimism and it really made me understand how much Nicolas truly did need Lestat - like he is Nicolas’ hope.  Until…. (We’ll return here later in the book!)

I wonder how the fact that Lestat is born in The Enlightenment - a new age of Reason will impact how he is portrayed on the show?  Obviously we’ve seen already how it’ll affect Armand!

When Nicolas brings up The Witches’ Place, Lestat doesn’t immediately remember - as if he has repressed the memory as it is traumatic.  I need The Witches Place on TV, but I can’t imagine how we can get to it?  Nicolas would have either not yet been born or have been a baby when this happened, so he cannot remind Lestat; Gabrielle would absolutely never bring up such a story in retrospect… and Lestat has repressed the memory… so how can we now get to The Witches’ Place?  Also, I find it interesting that Lestat says Nicki studies him as they talk about this… to ascertain how Lestat feels about it now?

I spoke of Lestat’s love for Nicolas, but when Nicolas is saying “Ah, you are a dreamer! My lord, the wolfkiller.” It feels Nicolas loves Lestat as well.  And of course, Nicolas also says “I love you” to Lestat, in Paris.  I love how, in this first conversation they both discover what it is to be truly known by another being - in how they share their lives and their longings and their dissatisfactions and they truly listen to and empathise with each other.  It definitely feels like (beyond his Mother, who really was more sporadic in her attention), this is Lestat’s first experience of truly being seen by another being.

“I think I was happier than I had ever been in my life.”  Lestat is so joyous here.  When he hears Nicolas play for the first time, he kisses Nicolas on both cheeks and then the violin!  You can just imagine the infectious joy!  And it’s such a contrast to how Lestat is afraid to touch his Mother

Lestat then (of course!) promptly cries!  (Is Sam’s Lestat going to burst into tears as often as Lestat describes it, because get him ten thousand gallons of water to drink - he’ll need them!!!!  Lestat also cries at the most random moments… but we know Sam is up to the task!) Nicolas seems deeply moved too that his music had this effect.  Perhaps Nicolas initially expected to find a kindred spirit in ferocity and rebellion in Lestat?  And he did!  But he found a match in sensitivity too.

As conversations go on, Lestat and Nicolas find their differences with opposing worldviews and interestingly they often clash about the goodness inherent in art… and yet they then come together in art (for example as Nicki plays violin and Lestat dances…)

The idea to go to Paris actually comes from Nicolas - he is the instigator.  And it feels like they are both, at this point trying to escape the meaninglessness of life.

Lestat’s “Oh, oh, oh!” crisis moment really reminds me of… *warning - slight spoiler for first time readers* what Lestat will later see in Nicolas’ mind… and it gives a different vibe to things to know that Nicolas is Lestat’s comforter in this moment and tries to relieve Lestat’s pain, but basically this is Nicolas’ mind 100% of the time.

“It was not better in the morning.”  In fact this existential crisis, his malady of mortality becomes Lestat’s eternal yearning ache of questioning than can never be fully assuaged (maybe on the TV show, the answer will be - Louis’ love.)  It never goes away, and any time someone describes Lestat as just FUN, I think back to this - because at the core of Lestat (and as I see it, at the core of The Vampire Chronicles) is this terror that existence is meaningless and that no life has any meaning at all.  That there are no answers we’ll ever receive, not even when we die.  That there will be no retribution or reward or even knowledge in any way.  That all there is is existence and non-existence.  This will obviously only be heightened once Lestat becomes a vampire, so must take life in order to survive and force countless souls into non-existence…. In in fact, Lestat’s focus on death and chaos has this nihilistic hint to it which is so the opposite to how Lestat is generally perceived.. and, admittedly how he tries to come across, too!  Lestat says he doesn’t believe in presentiments, but narratively this all is a presentiment and literally it is to be Lestat’s eternal malady of immortality as well.

I had some very personal thoughts at this point, when Lestat goes about questioning everyone… which perhaps I won’t share….  Well just to say that sometimes when something big happens in your life, you literally see the world in a different way.  I am thinking on a time when all of a sudden I began to look at people & it felt like I could *see* the weariness of their souls and internal fragilities, just looking at strangers’ faces and it was really unnerving and overwhelming, especially going about in crowds…

“Drew me as strongly as it scared me.”  Isn’t this always the way?  I hope the writers always have this quote in mind throughout the entire show’s creation!

It’s interesting that before Lestat heads to Paris he is now toning down how much he tells Gabrielle and instead it is Nicki he will fully open up with.

I love the part where Lestat hugs Gabrielle and she gives herself over to him and he witnesses her cry for the first time and loves it.  I had a very similar experience with my Dad once when I was a child, heading into being a teen and I can still conjure the scene and how it felt… and I felt similarly about it too…

At the end of chapter 6 it seems Gabrielle is saying she’s always lived vicariously through Lestat & now in sending him away as she’s dong, she hopes to continue to live vicariously through him still in some way as she approaches what she thinks will be her death?  Reading this time gave me big Magnus vibes in how he perceives Lestat too… weird!  Like somehow, both seem to desire to live vicariously through Lestat?  Could we even say it of Nicolas too, in a way?  He needs Lestat, to feed on his capacity for joy… hmm… I don’t know… I’m thinking as I type…

I love the feeling of freedom and optimism when Lestat and Nicolas first arrive in Paris  - the true start of living life!

And yet, Lestat still talks of his trembling, terrifying existential dread that settles upon him every night and which Nicolas tries to encourage him to let go.

Vampires have preternatural ability to mimic, but as described, Lestat already learned in this way it seems, in the theatre.  I love how he describes his fear evaporating and how he loved being on stage.  I love his determination and how convinced he is he will be a great actor.  I love how Lestat and Nicolas are described here and there’s a tantalising feeling of how their future might be…

The Autumn arrives with it’s personification of Dread.

Malady of mortality surely has to be an episode title?

When Lestat wraps he and Nicki together in his cloak against the show and rain, it feels simultaneously real and metaphorically poignant.

Lestat genuinely thinks if he could just get Nicki to understand the truth Lestat feels certain of (goodness in art and making others happy through your art), all would be well, but Nicolas still believes goodness can only come from obedience and self-sacrifice and denial and, thus, he knows himself to be evil.

“Light and beauty come together in you in a thousand different patterns” is such a beautiful thing Lestat says to Nicolas.

Nicki’s final words to mortal Lestat are a soft “Let’s go to bed.”  (Do you think show-Lestat will be ripped out of post-coital Nicolas’ arms..?)

Finally: Questions:

At the start of TVL, Lestat has been In The Earth. Do you think he will have been In The Earth in this era on the TV show? (As Louis has seen him pretty recently, which makes it seem like perhaps he won’t have been?)

The ‘spirit’ of 1984 reminds Lestat of the 1700’s. Will there be anything about the 2020’s that Lestat will associate with/that will remind him of the late eighteenth century?

“I did a lot of thinking about this sinless, secular morality, this optimism” - will this be a driving force for modern day Lestat? What will he think about in relation to right now?

What music will Lestat listen to? He listens to a lot of Bach when he first rises in the book (while driving his Harley-Davidson.  Is there a security both in the structure of Bach and in the fact his music is from an era predating even mortal Lestat that makes Lestat feel safer entering the modern era?

Lestat talks about coming back after killing the wolves and feeling that he was ‘not-Lestat’, so I thought we could discuss - did killing the wolves change Lestat, and if so: how?

When Lestat goes into a depression post-killing-the-wolves, is this essentially a human version of “Going into The Earth” as Lestat will do numerous times as a vampire?

How will the French Revolution impact the TV telling?

When Lestat talks of how he could have poisoned meat to kill the wolves, but meat was too scarce… is he in a veiled way saying that his life has less value than a piece of meat?

“I don’t think I felt the slightest fear then.  But I felt something, and it caused the hair to rise up on the back of my arms.” What exactly is the “something” Lestat feels when he sets out to kill the wolves?  And why is he not afraid? Bravery? His hunting spirit? His impulsive, adventurous nature? Stupidity? Naivety? Only feeling truly alive in moments that contain the potential for death? A lack of care whether he lives or dies (borne of despair}?

Reading the wolves section, with the dying animals and even after this too when Lestat talks of his ignored/thwarted farming plans for his family’s land… It made me wonder, just a curious ponder - if Sam might have had any experiences in real life connected to any of this stuff, given his family’s line of work…?

Is performing with the theatre troupe at 16 the first time Lestat truly feels pure joy - he describes it as ecstasy?

How can we now get to The Witches’ Place if Nicki can’t have witnessed child-Lestat there, Gabrielle would never tell the story and Lestat has repressed the memory…?

[eldritch-nightmare]

Mk, so, how about Liu, and any other characters of your choice with an S/O who has selective-mutism, but one day they just randomly decide to say something, but it’s in a completely different language. Idk where I got the idea from.

a/n: i saw liu's name and i couldn't restrain myself. i'm monolingual so i had to use various translation sites so if these are incorrect then i am so sorry. nd i opted to just have the reader randomly say 'i love you' because that seemed like an easy phrase to not butcher. except for liu. with what i wrote, i did have to give a full phrase other than 'i love you' and i put it through multiple translation sites so uhm fingers crossed that it's accurate uhm if you speak danish and it isn't then first off i am so sorry and second off can you please tell me what the actual translation is anyways this is a long note sorry fdhjfh hope you enjoy!!

with a selectively mute s/o that speaks in a different language.

includes: homicidal liu, the doll maker, nurse ann, and clockwork.

warnings: gn reader, it's honestly mostly just sappy, liu downplays a stab wound but that's really it.

HOMICIDAL LIU.

Liu doesn't really think about your selective mutism. You'll talk to him whenever you're comfortable, and if that's never then that's fine with him. All he cares about is your comfort.

Besides, if you ask him, he does enough talking for the both of you. At least... he thinks he talks a lot. It definitely feels like it. And who knows, he probably just teaches you morse code so you two can communicate like that.

And little did either of you know, today was the day you'd speak to him for the first time. And not for good reason, sadly. You see, Liu... isn't necessarily a careful person when it comes to his own safety.

So he may or may not have gotten hurt. But it's not like it's a life-threatening injury or anything like that! Besides, he's taught himself how to treat minor wounds like this. Really, it isn't that big of a deal.

You think otherwise, because, uh, he was fucking stabbed. Who the hell considers a stab wound a 'minor' injury?!

So when you saw him cleaning and stitching up a stab wound, this obviously led to some bickering between the two of you. Liu is telling you that he's okay, while you're aggressively telling him via morse code that he's been stabbed and that he needs to get professional medical attention. But Liu was fine. He's gone through way worse than this, so you really don't have to worry.

But him saying that just leads to you throwing up your hands in frustration as you say, "Dammit, kan du ikke se, at jeg er bekymret, fordi jeg elsker dig?!"

And... well... Liu doesn't really know what you just said but he feels really bad knowing that this is what made you speak to him for the first time.

He'll sigh and apologize for not taking his injuries seriously, and he promises to get professional help rather than just treating it himself. He... is legally classified as dead, so he can't go to a hospital but... I mean... he knows a guy who was studying medicine. And a very suspicious doctor.

THE DOLL MAKER.

Vine's native tongue is Russian, so more often than not he'll mutter to himself in his mother tongue rather than any other language.

He doesn't really care if you speak or not, mostly because he feels more comfortable in the silence. He's not the best at holding conversations.

He was busy making a doll with non-human parts this time around. And you were roaming around his little workshop, inspecting all his half-finished projects and sketches of future dolls he planned on making.

Vine trusts you to be around his work, so he's not worried about you accidentally making a mess or breaking anything but he does find himself feeling a little nervous.

Dollmaking is his passion, it's something he loves doing. And he loves you as well and values your opinion more than anyone else's. What if you think he's not doing a good job? What if you think he could make something better?

You've never given him the impression that you dislike dolls or find his creations and passion to be 'childish' but it's still a thought that lingers in his mind nonetheless. Thoughts like this constantly plague his mind.

But when he glances away from the doll he's working on to see you gently straightening out the dress of another one that's on display, a small smile gracing your lips as you admire his creation...

"Я тебя люблю." The words just sorta slipped out of his mouth, and it took him a moment before he went to repeat what he said in English but you spoke before he could even open his mouth.

"Я тебя тоже люблю." And oh. That's the first time he's ever heard you speak, he thinks.

NURSE ANN.

She too is selectively mute, though she doesn't speak because it physically hurts to more often than not, and also... she sees no real reason to talk, to be honest.

You two probably communicate via sign language or writing, though she'll quietly whisper to you if she has to.

Ann doesn't care if you talk or not. She gets it, even if you two have vastly different reasons for your selective mutism.

She's not going to have that big a reaction when you do talk, though she will tilt her head to the side a bit when you speak in an entirely different language.

It'll probably happen while the two of you are spending time together in silence, Ann doing her own thing while you're sitting nearby.

She was caught up in her own little task, mind empty. She was vaguely aware of your gaze on her, but she only really came back to reality when she heard you sigh and softly murmur to yourself.

"Ich liebe dich."

She blinks, taking a moment to process your words. She... doesn't understand German, but the way you softly spoke the words, and the way you were looking at her with such fondness... well, she had a vague idea of what you said.

And very quietly, she whispers back, "Love you too."

CLOCKWORK.

Natalie seems like the type of person who wants to learn a new language, and even begins starting to, but her motivation for it just evaporates two days after starting and she stops trying to learn. And it's just a cycle that rinses, washes, and repeats itself.

Anyways, she overthinks a lot and needs constant reassurance more than she would like, so at the beginning of your relationship, communication was probably a little rocky.

But you guys manage to come up with other ways to communicate rather than vocally.

She'll catch herself wondering what your voice sounds like, and she'll sometimes wonder if you'll ever feel comfortable enough around her to speak but she doesn't push you to talk.

She understands, trust me.

But she's definitely surprised when you wake her up from her nap just to look her in the eye and bluntly say, "Anh yêu em." and you don't even give her a chance to process it before you walk away.

She's just baffled and confused. What the hell did you just say to her? You just spoke. What the hell did you say? Is she dreaming? She feels awake. She's definitely awake.

Natalie has to dig around for her phone to try and search for the translation of what you said, and it takes her a few tries before she finally manages to type it out correctly. She definitely buries her face in a pillow when she reads the translation. And she ends up falling back asleep.

It's only when she wakes up again that she'll go and find you. She'll wrap her arms around your waist and rest her forehead on your shoulder before placing a gentle kiss there and tiredly murmuring, "I love you too."

[soaps-mohawk]

sorry if this is something you dont wanna answer but im like super frusterated rn

does it also annoy u when u read like a good oneshot n the only comments are like "omg pt 2 plsssss"?? bc it annoys me like can we talk about the writing first and actually appreciate it😭😭

As an author? Honestly? Yeah.

I've seen countless others that have spoken on this that have articulated it far better than I could, but yeah. I get where those comments come from and what they mean, they liked it so much they want a part 2, but it doesn't come across that way to authors. Most authors are going to see it as demanding, especially as fanfic authors because we do this for free in our spare time. It's one thing if the author asks if anyone is interested in a part 2. Then yeah. Comment that to your hearts content. Sure there's better ways to phrase it "omg I loved this so much, would you consider a part 2" or "omg this was amazing, please do a part 2." Just commenting "part 2 please" sounds demanding. Doesn't matter if you say please or not, you can't even take the extra two seconds to say how much you enjoyed it? IF you enjoyed it?

It's like the decades old trend of the "more please" or "update soon" comments. Those don't come across as kind and supportive as you think they do. Again, they sound demanding. You took the time to comment but couldn't even add in a few words about how you enjoyed it? How you liked it? "I loved this so much I can't wait for more." See how much better than sounds than just "more please"?

I literally had someone on Ao3 bookmark CRCB yesterday and they put "update please"...like I literally just posted the new chapter. I literally just updated and you're demanding more? That's how fic writers are going to take that. There's no way you can frame the "update soon" or "please update" comments to have most fic writers see them in a positive light. Especially when the new chapter was just posted. Like what do you mean update soon, I just did.

Fics take time. Chapters take time. Commenting in a demanding tone, even if YOU don't think it's demanding, is not going to get you an update faster. I know a lot of fic writers that will hold off updates because of comments like that. I don't reply to comments that are demanding because what do you even say to that?? There's no compliment there.

Anyway, long story short, if you're going to comment, at least say something about how you liked the chapter or you enjoyed the fic and the story. Doesn't have to be some long expose, one sentence is enough to make a fic writer's day. Honestly, a key smash will do. Just don't be demanding in the comments. That's not going to get you an update any faster.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"I Met Her Today" (1961-1965)

Recorded on October 15, 1961 at RCA’s Studio B, Nashville · Release date: July 19, 1965 · Album: Elvis for Everyone! (compilation)

MUSICIANS Guitar: Jerry Kennedy, Scotty Moore. Bass: Bob Moore. Drums: Buddy Harman, D.J. Fontana. Piano & Organ: Floyd Cramer. Saxophone & Clarinet: Boots Randolph. Accordion: Gordon Stoker. Vocals: Millie Kirkham, The Jordanaires.

Illustrative pictures · (1) On Sunday afternoon, July 30, 1961, Elvis appeared at Weeki Wachee Springs Park in Florida, on the west coast where he was then filming "Follow That Dream"; (2) Elvis on movie set Frankie and Johnny June 10, 1965.

RECORDING SESSION · BACKSTORY Soundtrack Recordings for Mirisch Company’s "Follow That Dream" July 2, 1961: RCA’s Studio B, Nashville One thing seemed certain to the Colonel: It made sense to go into the studio for another singles-only session. The June 25 session proved that Elvis and his band could focus their attention better when they were all trying to cut a hit single; increasingly, too, scheduling was becoming a problem, and between the two Mirisch pictures there would only be time to arrange a short session. Once Freddy [Bienstock] understood the Colonel’s goal, he knew exactly where to turn for hit material — to his hot new team, Pomus and Shuman. Having gotten three cuts on the last session was more than enough motivation to propel the songwriters into action. Mort Shuman had a simple formula for writing hits — “Chorus, break, and gimmick” — and the two had noticed that Elvis was drawn to first-person songs; in no time, then, they came up with a stranger’s tale, a gimmick, and a Phil Spector – produced demo. The song, “Night Rider,” was just the kind of rocker Freddy was looking for, and he sent it off to Elvis along with two Tepper and Bennett compositions, “Just For Old Time Sake” and “For The Millionth And The Last Time,” as well as two others (“Ecstasy” and “You Never Talked to Me”) and the promise of “a couple of real strong songs in the next few days.”

RECORDING OF "I MET HER TODAY" Studio Sessions for RCA October 15, 1961: RCA’s Studio B, Nashville The “real strong songs” Freddy had mentioned in his note were two brand-new Don Robertson ballads. Elvis’s careful phrasing suggests that he’d done serious preparation on the first, “Anything That’s Part Of You,” but that didn’t stop him from working hard on it, running through six takes as Floyd Cramer worked to duplicate the slip-note fills Robertson had played on the demo. Years later Elvis would tell audiences that “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” was “probably the saddest song I’ve ever heard,” but he never portrayed abandonment more convincingly than on this cut. Among Elvis’s recorded ballads perhaps the only competition comes from some of the other Robertson songs recorded in 1961 and ’62. The second of his contributions, “I Met Her Today,” told a more hopeful story, but it proved harder to get right. After a promising first take Elvis paused to correct some problems with the song’s challenging octave-and-a half leaps, but as soon as he’d mastered that, band mistakes began to multiply. After twenty takes the group’s concentration had worn thin, and they agreed to stop, leaving take eighteen as the master. But the recording lay unused for four years until RCA resurrected it for Elvis For Everyone.

Excerpts: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

LYRICS Don Robertson/Hal Blair I told you that some day If you kept on being untrue Somebody else would come along And release me from you You'll be glad to know now Your fickle world Can have its own way For it finally happened I've met her today I used to think I just couldn't live A day without you In spite of the thousand doubts and tears That you put me through All at once I don't care as much for you I'm sorry to say For now there's another I met her today How I treasured each smile, each kiss You gave to me now and then Well, you needn't be kind to me now Oh no, not ever again Just when the last bit of pride in me was gone Someone heard me pray And sent me my angel I met her today I met her today

[skepsiss]

Long road ahead - pt 5

I might make this the second to last chapter actually because this ended very softly but without a firm direction. I like that tender things like this don't have to be definitive. Anyway, here is part 5 and the payoff for all the previous chapters. This part is not without its heartaches, so apologies, but if you like confessions I hope you'll like this. Also, surprise! A wild Dustin appears

TW: Miscommunication, swearing, and some self-hatred.

4,300+ words, Steve’s POV. 1 week and a half or so after their fight.

Pt1  Pt1.2  Pt2   Pt3 Pt4

--

He had fucked up. He had fucked up so badly.

Steve had been beside himself with sorrow and frustration for days as he went over and over the events of last week. He had been so unbelievably stupid and let his drunk brain take control. He hadn’t been able to help it–but that was just an excuse. It was all just excuses actually. But the way Eddie had been positively shining that night had made Steve feel irrational. It had made him irrational. It was so easy to get swept up into a party with someone like Eddie there who laughed freely and touched everyone he was familiar with. He had partially hung off of Steve’s shoulders and every time he came close enough to ‘rib’ Steve in one way or another–boast about him and charm the crowd–Steve had felt a bit more of his conviction waver.

It had been weeks, weeks, since Steve and Eddie had hung out and it had started Steve off on the back foot. Time apart sounded like a good idea, but the fleeting moments he had shared with Eddie in a group setting over the last month had only made him pine harder. It broke him up inside and it hurt every time Eddie turned him down when he asked to hang out. It hurt so fucking much, but each time he convinced himself it was the better, so of course he hadn’t been able to say no when Eddie asked him if he wanted to come to an end-of-the-summer rager.

God, he had been so weak and Eddie had been so fucking brilliant all night. It was like he had been apart for years and finally, Steve’s heart couldn't be contained anymore. He had let himself be reckless and he had gone and fucked up the whole night.

Steve was miserable at home by himself for days as he self-soothed the hurt away. Not only had he gone and ruined their friendship he had made Eddie straight up hate him. He had never taken rejection this badly before, but it couldn’t be helped with how long he had let this crush go. No amount of stamping his interests out had worked and then he had set fire to their foundation in one night. Less than one night… and now Eddie absolutely hated him.

He had been sworn at and crushed out, called terrible and cruel and Steve couldn’t deny that it was true. What had he been hoping would happen? Had he gone into it thinking they would kiss and then he could walk away from it all? He hadn’t been thinking at all, but something Eddie had said made him pause and it was dwelling heavily on his mind now.

Do you know how fucking badly I wanted you to kiss me all fucking summer?

He had said that--he had yelled it in his face--and after the initial shock, Steve had turned that phrasing over in his mind again and again.

It was to no avail though; what was he supposed to do with that piece of knowledge? How was he supposed to handle that and do anything with it? Was he supposed to feel regret for not acting soon or regret for acting at all? Just because Eddie had said it didn’t mean he wanted it–and it especially didn’t mean he wanted it now after all of that. He had been right to be mad, and he had been right to accuse Steve of leading him on.

Steve still didn’t think he could face genuinely pursuing Eddie, because what was worse than it not working out was the idea of Eddie accepting and risking his heart further. If he accepted that would mean… Steve couldn’t deny the fact that he was a freak too.

The doorbell rang and Steve had to muster all of his energy to pull himself up from bed. The doorbell had actually rung four more times as he slumped out of his room and down the stairs, trying to hush it with a ’yeah, yeah, I hear you’ to no avail.

Steve pulled the door open and Dustin stood there with his finger on the buzzer, making deliberate eye contact as he pressed the button twice more, giving Steve an incredulous look.

“Stop it–” Steve scolded, reaching out to swat Dustin’s hand away. He pulled back before Steve could make contact, frustration evident.

“Just making sure it works–what took you so long, huh?”

He was being a brat, acting like he owned the place like he always did and Steve didn’t have the energy to do anything else other than roll his eyes and sigh.

“What is with you, man?” Dustin asked, pushing past Steve and into his house.

“Henderson–” Steve half tried, his hand slapping lamely against his own leg as he turned to look at Dustin, “at least your shoes–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin complained, wiping his feet on the mat and then toeing his shoes off, barely stopping his stride toward the living room.

“No one else home?” Dustin asked, surveying the two closest rooms to them–the kitchen and the living room–before turning to look at Steve who was still standing with the door open.

“No,” Steve answered, exasperated as he shut the door a bit dramatically, pinching his lips and looking back at Dustin.

“Good, so what the hell happened?” Dustin asked, crossing his arms and behaving as if he was the older one here.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, picking up Dustin’s shoes and putting them properly by the front door before walking past him and into the kitchen.

“You know what I mean!” Dustin declared, following and then leaning with his chest against the kitchen island as Steve opened the fridge to get something to drink. He kept soda and juice in the fridge for if and when one of the kids dropped by–even though most of the refreshments were regularly used up by Robin when she visited.

“No, I don’t,” Steve answered, frustrated, as he poured the soda into two glasses and put one of them within arm’s reach of Dustin. He didn’t go for it right away and instead gave Steve an unimpressed look, one that could have put Robin to shame.

“Yeah, well, why is Eddie saying you guys aren’t talking?” Dustin asked, finger quoting before settling back down with his chest on the counter.

Steve visibly cringed as Dustin spoke, the glass halfway to his lips before he was forced to break eye contact with Dustin and look away. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want to hear what Eddie had been saying.

“What the hell happened? Cause from the way Eddie tells it something happened, it’s your fault, and now you guys aren’t talking. That’s bullshit, man. Just apologize!”

Steve grimaced and turned his back to Dustin, not sure if he was going to yell or cry. He wasn’t looking to sort this out and he sure as hell didn’t want to explain all of this to Dustin.

“Come on, man!” Dustin grumbled, finally standing up in order to walk a dramatic circle over towards Steve.

“If I mess up, I apologize. It happens! Ask Lucas and Mike!” He exclaimed, pointing towards the front door as if his friends were in that direction.

Steve wasn’t interested in hearing this, he didn’t want to be scolded and treated like a kid when Dustin was four years younger than him.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Steve tried, attempting to drink his soda again as he took a tentative sip, still avoiding eye contact.

“Bullshit!” Dustin hollered, his hands shooting up into the air and then letting them fall again with a loud slap against his thighs.

“Come on, man. We’re helping him pack the van today.”

Steve’s stomach flopped hearing that and he hunched forward a bit as if closing in on himself would help the uneasy feeling growing in his belly. He already felt terrible and he didn’t want to be put on a time limit to sort out his own feelings. It was so much more complicated than that.

“Come on, man…” Dustin said again, his tone much quieter and edging into desperation. The sound of his voice tore at Steve’s heart a bit, the obvious hurt and confusion that was there because he just couldn’t understand why Eddie and Steve had fought.

Do you know how fucking badly I wanted you to kiss me all fucking summer?

“He’s not going to forgive me,” Steve said finally, placing his glass down on the counter.

“Yeah, he will,” Dustin insisted, that edge of annoyance back in his tone.

“No. He won't,” Steve sneered back, holding his tongue.

His tone seemed to surprise Dustin a bit because he went quiet for a moment which allowed the eerie silence of the Harrington home to make Steve uneasy.

“Well, say it anyways,” Dustin finally said, the words simple and somehow piercing through Steve’s heart.

Say it anyways?

“Just say it anyways and mean it… and then there’s nothing else you can do.”

Steve felt his throat getting tight at the sentiment behind those words. They weren’t wise because Dustin didn’t know what he was talking about, but they weren’t untrue either. Just say it anyways. Just say it anyways.

And then there’s nothing else you can do.

Steve pinched his nose and sniffed, covering up any emotions that could have slipped through. He had been leaning with his palms on the counter and he straightened up now, looking across the kitchen at nothing in particular.

“Yeah… alright,” Steve swallowed, feeling a bit foolish for having to have Dustin give him a pep talk. Maybe he was a bit wiser than Steve gave him credit for.

“Alright?” Dustin asked as if he needed to confirm that he had heard Steve correctly.

“Yeah, I said alright,” Steve repeated, putting on an annoyed attitude to cover up the fear and relief that mingled in his gut.

“Alright then,” Dustin replied, almost shocked that what he had said worked, “we going?”

Steve was hesitantly walking towards the garage door, a bowl of keys sitting at the far end of the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, we’re going,” Steve grouched, looking back over his shoulder as he picked up his car keys and rolled them between his fingers.

“Dump that, won’t you?” He asked, gesturing towards the cups of soda that had been left on the counter.

“Dump it? Dustin repeated back, offended.

“Yeah, dump it,” Steve mocked, holding the door to the garage open.

“No way!”

As if to prove him wrong Dustin hurried back over to the glass and made hard eye contact as he tipped the drink back and started to chug. Steve rolled his eyes with annoyance, obviously becoming irritated as he waved his hand in a ‘hurry up’ motion. Why was Dustin always such a brat?

Dustin finished the glass and put it down a bit too hard before belching loudly and putting his hand to his chest.

“Oh, uh, I think I drank that too–fast,” he burped, making a bit of a sour face as he walked towards Steve anyway.

“You think?” Steve replied exasperated, pushing Dustin through the door and into the garage.

—- –

Focusing on the road had been hard as they drove the short distance from Steve’s place to the Trailer Park. Dustin hadn’t stopped talking and Steve wasn’t sure if that was to cover up the awkward silence or because he genuinely wanted to try and liven the mood. Either way, he appreciated it in part, even though he couldn’t focus on all of that right now.

No, he needed to pay attention to the road and not get so far into his own head that he turned around and went home. He just had to resign himself to being chewed out and left for dead. Dramatic, but that was how it felt. At the very least that would mean he could properly bury this crush and maybe he’d be able to cruise through life not thinking about another man ever again. It was wishful thinking and it had taken him a long time to even admit that was what was happening to him–he still thought of it as this foreign thing instead of a part of himself. That was only half true though, because the worst thing that could happen was that Eddie forgave him. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right away, maybe it would be three years down the line or even twenty, but Steve wasn’t sure how he’d feel if Eddie forgave him.

But that was all he could do. He didn’t need to theorize and implement a fail-safe for something that was out of his control.

Just apologize and mean it.

Steve slowed the car as they drove down the gravel road and into the Trailer Park. Most of the homes here were new but still unimpressive. Many of the trailers had been replaced by the government program that came to do the ‘clean up’ and the real site of the ‘incident’ was roped off farther to the south. You could still see some of the rusting, metal homes through the treeline if you went looking for it. Steve didn’t go looking for it and he didn’t know of anyone in the party that would.

Steve had trouble pulling up because there were people all over the place. Gareth and Lucas, Mike, Nancy–everyone was here and totting boxes or struggling to move a heavy, wooden dresser. Fleetingly, Steve had seen Eddie standing by Wayne’s trailer talking with Benson before he had excused himself. No doubt he had seen Steve’s car, it was unmistakable; no one else with a BMW would drive down this way.

Dustin hopped out as Steve pulled to a stop. He took a moment to breathe as he turned the ignition off, the din of voices outside making his nerves flare until he finally mustered the courage to get out of his car.

No one drew much attention to him and Steve said some quick hellos before helping load a few things into Eddie’s van. He didn’t come back outside and Steve stood awkwardly with his hands on his hips, looking at the trailer. Someone elbowed him and Steve glanced down to see Dustin giving him another one of his frustrated looks.

Steve rolled his eyes and with the motion noticed that a few other people were watching him subtly. They probably all knew to some degree that Steve and Eddie had fought and that made him uneasy, but from the looks of it Eddie wasn’t going to come back outside unless he was forced. They were getting close to finishing the packing too, so it really only left one option.

Steve cocked his hip a bit and hung his head, breathing through the anxiety quietly before counting down in his mind and just walking into the trailer. No one stopped him, and the door had been left open for moving purposes. Everyone probably knew what this was about, or at least they knew Dustin had gone to get him for this exact reason.

Steve swallowed thickly as he stepped into the trailer and looked down the dark little hallway to Eddie’s room. The door was ajar, but he couldn’t see in and he was uncertain if Eddie was in there or not. Probably. If he had to place his bets.

Steve knocked quietly on the door, pushing it open just enough to see inside and spot Eddie sitting on the end of his bed. The room was mostly empty except for his unmade box spring and a few larger pieces of furniture. It felt weird to see it like this since the room had almost always been bursting at the seams with junk that Eddie had squirreled away.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked to the knock, only glancing up before looking away again.

Steve’s stomach flopped and his grip on the doorframe tightened slightly. Eddie wasn’t a ball of rage any longer, but he still looked distressed and he was pointedly not looking at him.

Steve swallowed and stepped the rest of the way into the room, half closing the door again before taking a seat on the end of the bed with Eddie. He didn’t want to give him any reason to refuse him, but it felt rude to sit down without asking. Eddie didn’t move away though–actually, he didn’t move at all.

Steve glanced at Eddie, unable to see his expression as his hair fell in his face, but his shoulders were hunched forward and his hands were limp on his own thighs. He looked listless.

“Hey…” Steve started, his tone gentle but not pandering. This felt so awkward, he didn’t know what he wanted to say.

“Can we talk?” He asked as he clasped his hands between his knees and looked ahead. He hadn’t wanted to ask that, but he didn’t know how else to start the conversation.

Eddie just shrugged in an indifferent manner, uncharacteristically quiet.

“So...” Steve breathed, tapping his thumbs together softly, “I’ve been thinking about what you said and… I’m sorry.”

Eddie tensed and Steve noticed right away. His shoulders rose up to his ears and his once limp hands were now fisted on top of his thighs. He still wasn’t looking at Steve so he couldn’t read his expression, but from his body language alone he didn’t seem happy.

“That it?” Eddie asked as the silence drew out between them. It hurt to be spoken to that way and Steve felt his airway tightening a bit.

“Y-yeah,” Steve answered, having to clear his throat halfway through because of how strained his voice sounded. He didn’t get up though and Eddie still wasn’t looking at him as he let the silence draw out between them.

“If you need any more help… moving stuff, don’t hesitate to ask,” Steve offered weakly, pressing his tongue hard against the roof of his mouth. Eddie didn’t move and Steve swallowed again, trying to remind himself he just needed to apologize and mean it… that was it. What else could he say?

With a heavy breath, Steve finally stood up, his head almost feeling light as the tension settled over him. That was it then, that was all he could do. Eddie would just hate him for the rest of their lives.

Steve stepped towards the door, intent on leaving Eddie to his peace and just wallowing in his own emotions for the next few days. He had lived through heartbreak before, he could live through it again.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Steve stopped as he stood at the door, his palm already pressed against the cool metal of the handle. He glanced back at Eddie who still had his head turned, but he watched as his shoulder shook a bit and quiet, bitter laughter filled the room.

“You came all the way here to say that?” Eddie asked, his voice accusatory but not as punchy as it usually was.

Steve pressed his lips into a thin line, not wanting to linger if he was just going to get yelled at.

“Yeah…” Steve replied, sounding sorry as he tried to steady himself, “I’m really sorry that I hurt you.”

Eddie barked a laugh and it startled Steve a bit, his throat closing up.

“You’re sorry that you hurt me?” He repeated back, acting as if Steve had just said the most unbelievable thing in the world.

The words made Steve’s heartache though, the sentiment behind the language so drenched in distrust and pain. All he could really think about was the insecurity that he had heard in every single one of Eddie’s words when he had tried to hide his scars or ask for a ride. How secretly fragile he was and how desperately he tried to hide that part of himself until he trusted you. How Steve had broken that trust completely.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve replied genuinely, his voice soft as he tried to speak to that heartache instead of his own feelings.

“I didn’t–I shouldn’t have done that to you,” Steve replied, his own insecurities threatening to come through as he felt his fingers twitch against the door handle.

“Why?” Eddie asked, sounding like a child all of a sudden as he curled up into himself. He pulled his legs up, wedging his heels under himself so he was sitting in a squat on the end of the bed.

“Regret it?” He asked, laughing a little bit as if the bitter remark had instead been an attempt at levity.

Steve felt himself frown and he let go of the door finally, trying to push past the stress that threatened to steal his voice.

Just say it and mean it, and then there is nothing else you can do.

“Of course I do,” Steve replied, watching as Eddie slowly started to shake his head, obviously starting to get frustrated again.

“That was a terrible way to tell you… that I like you.”

Eddie stopped moving at Steve’s words, his shoulders slowly hunching in more as he hugged his legs to his chest. He went quiet again and Steve resigned himself to admitting that this was probably as good as it was going to get. He regretted a lot of things, but nothing more than this–

“Since when?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice almost lost to the room.

It was Steve’s turn to freeze and go silent, as he stared at Eddie. He gaped at him, unsure of what to say to that before Eddie repeated himself.

“Since when?” He asked again, his voice a bit firmer this time, but he was still closed off to Steve.

“Since when…” Steve said back to him, understanding what he was being asked but unsure of how to reply.

“Since–” Steve tried, his chest flooding with butterflies as he tried to grasp at his thoughts, “since–I don’t know–since—since you came back.”

That wasn’t much of an answer but it was as close to the truth as Steve could get. He had been pining since March, but he hadn’t admitted it to himself for months. He hadn’t even wanted to admit it to himself today.

“All summer?” Eddie asked quietly after another pause.

Steve pinched his lips together again, fighting back the torrent of emotions threatening to swallow him whole.

“All…” Steve sighed, putting his hands on his hips, “all summer.”

Eddie finally moved as he tightened his grip on his legs and turned his head so he could press his face into his knees. Steve still couldn’t see his expression past his curtain of hair, but it was obvious that he was crying.

“You’re such an—asshole,” Eddie blubbered and the sound went straight through Steve’s heart.

“I know…” he swallowed, thinking back to how many times that had been said to him over the years, “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shook his head and sniffled, not looking up as he sat there curled in on himself. Steve didn’t know what to do, so he lingered for a moment before eventually sitting back down on the edge of the bed beside Eddie.

“Not like that,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head again and vaguely peering up from under his bangs.

“Sorry?” Steve asked, confused about what was being said to him. Did Eddie want him to leave after all?

“Not like that,” Eddie repeated, lifting his face marginally so his nose was pressed between his knees. “You’re a good guy… I’m sorry… I said that.”

Steve felt his heart lurch at those words, his breath shuttering a bit at Eddie’s correction. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it felt something like that. Mercy maybe. Mercy not only for what he had done at the party but somehow it felt like mercy for the past 10 years of his life.

“I’m moving,” Eddie mumbled quietly, his eyes red, but his cheeks freshly dry.

“I know…” Steve replied, sighing quietly and glancing away from Eddie.

“So…” Eddie swallowed, actually turning to look at him properly, his nose red and eyes a bit swollen, “so, what?”

Steve looked at him with confusion again, his voice sticking in his throat as he tried to puzzle out what this question meant. Surprisingly, his confusion actually elicited a laugh from Eddie who turned away again and pressed his eyes onto the top of his knees. He sounded half-charmed, and Steve let the note shutter his eyebrows up.

“So, what does this mean?” Eddie explained further, sounding shy.

Steve sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. He hadn’t thought about getting this far. What did this mean? He didn’t know where to go from here.

“Do we…” he waffled, his expression pinched, “do we need to have a plan?”

Eddie seemed to consider the offer before eventually answering no and then looked back at Steve.

“We can figure it out as we go… if you want,” he offered and Steve felt his entire being quake at the prospect.

Figure it out as they went? They could just… figure it out as they went.

“Okay,” Steve swallowed, feeling a smile break onto his face for the first time in what felt like months.

“Okay, okay, yeah…”

Eddie let his legs drop as he slowly put his feet back down on the ground, his head hung a bit but his expression was much softer than it had been. He looked shy and perhaps a bit uncertain, but the emotions mingled nicely into the room as they both seemed to imagine the tender possibilities of what this meant for them.

[cecedownbad]

Been on my mind for sometime (call it stupid but let me have a moment). I wrote this with Vendetta Leon in mind.

How pissed would Leon be in an isekai trope? The reader (you) opens up to him about what this world is in your original place, sure it's still Earth but not the same thing. He obviously would be stunned, beyond words would laugh at you for even saying, "we're in a...videogame....you are a videogame character....", Cause you're joking, right? A videogame? His life is a....videogame? You're fucking serious?

And that's when you try and explain to him that it isn't a lie, and he can't accept it, understandably. I would imagine he then processes it all little by little, letting it all simmer in his mind before the anger and disbelief takes a hold, "So, you, whoever the fuck you are," Uh Oh, "You don't belong to this 'world', you're from a different Earth that is normal, doesn't have any B.O.Ws, the dead stay dead, no evil corporation trying to make monsters to support the military and you somehow, with some shit luck, managed to make it to our Earth, a bit more fucked up and this Earth ends up being from a known Videogame you've played before?" He said it, phrasing the end like a question, oh but he knew he didn't need an answer to what he listed out.

"This whole place, this mess we're in, the people we lost are what? Entertainment to you? As if learning that there will always be assholes who make B.O.Ws wasn't enough, our world is nothing but a videogame to you fuckers to play around with huh?" This doesn't sit right with you, now all you feel is utter regret for even opening your mouth. You knew Leon, thought of him like a person even before this whole thing went down. He was a person in your mind like most of the characters save for a few. You couldn't say anything to him, what could you have said that made him feel better? Feel less...this?

"Why did you bother telling me all this, should have just shut up, should have told me to stop asking questions! This is.... ridiculous, you waltz in here, acting like you had amnesia, but you had an uncanny knowledge for all the B.O.Ws we've fought with in the past. Not to mention how you knew, exactly what shit I went through, how I grew up and it all boils down to us being a part of some, what? Over millions of people's entertainment?...I need you to leave."

"Wait, Leon—"

"I said leave, goddamit!"

Quietly you get up from the chair, placed by a rounded table. Walking away from all this but it never does sit right with you. Having no idea of what Leon could be thinking sends you into a panic, but that felt selfish to you. To be thinking about the toll it would take on you compared to the blow it would be on him, his whole life is a lie at that point. But you slowly felt it sit in that puddle of rotting emotions, how long would he be pissed at you for his life?

This is unfair, an agreement falls on that but what does it take for him to take your words seriously ever? Scoffing at every remark you make, every suggestion, every idea you place on the table, with all his responses being along the lines of, "Let me guess? A videogame taught you that?" Believing that all of this, was your fault?

"Leon—you know what? You were right, I really should not have told you anything—"

"Guess we're on the same page then,"

"—I'm not finished, I shouldn't have told you anything because it seems like you want to understand the situation in your own fucking terms of ignorance. I didn't make this fucking game!"

The two of you sat in silence, Leon's expression leaving a trail of bitter annoyance. "I didn't make you, I didn't do any of this, fuck, you think I wanted to be here? You think for a fucking second that hey, maybe I shouldn't put the blame on you for finally being trusting enough to open up to me about this. It's a shitty situation, you don't want to be here, well, neither do I!" It was so insanely stupid, why were you even yelling at him? What was this conversation supposed to lead to? A happy ending of accepting your differences? Holding your hands together in understanding?

This was it, maybe this is where the two part ways. Not having to see your face would make his days a little better, although the idea of all this still sits on him, at least your presence won't further the thought. This was what you needed, it was a horrible few months, being here, trapped, opening up about any of this only lead to your string of regrets making an entrance.

Without a word, you walked away. There was no call to make you stop, no rushing footsteps to hold you back, nothing.

I'm sorry, I got carried away here, got invested in my thoughts so quickly. Just an idea that I dragged on to be honest, but honestly, I would imagine this would piss all of the characters off, not only Leon. Imagine Chris? Damn.

[witch-hazels-musings]

hello there dear pookie,

ive wanted to try writing drabbles, but how the fuck do i do that?

sorry for my wording, but do you have any tips for writing better? my writing right now can be classified as monstrous shit. please bless me with some moral lesson. if youre free, obviously, as ive heard of your current situation. thank you, ily :)

-H.Y

heyoo - sorry for my late response!

Well, one of the key parts of writing drabbles is just delusion. That's funny, but it is true. you just have to do it!

aaaaand if you want to improve your writing, then I would suggest doing a lot of edits. write what you want without stopping or second-guessing yourself and then go back and review what you wrote and make it better.

broke down some of my thoughts below

My biggest suggestion is SHOW vs TELL - are you telling the reader information, or are you showing that information

Tell ->

I was scared. I knew this couldn't be right because John would never text this way. He was always so clear in his messages. My gut told me this was all wrong.

Show ->

The phone shook as I read John's message for the third, fourth time. Don't answer the door. What do you mean? Why? John? "Ahhh, I gotchu! Can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message, or don't, I probably won't check it," John's recorded voice hung heavy in the air as if the silence of my rejected call stole the oxygen from my lungs. I ran to the door, the bolt sliding into its lock while my hand trembled above the metal nob.

^ You can see that showing creates emersion, it helps draw the reader into what is happening rather than just stating the facts. We can easily see that 1. the character is scared, 2. this is an odd thing for John to do, and that something is very wrong. By adding these components and focusing on - sight, sound, feeling, sensations, and actions, we can make a better scene with relative ease.

This does help if you already know what you want to happen though! often I put myself in the situation of the character to really grasp all the details (writing = role-playing lol)

also, you CAN TELL sometimes. my general rule of thumb is show 80-90% of the time, tell 20-10% depending on the situation.

My other big tip is to TRIM your narrative. Often times we have extra words in our prose, repeat phrases or information, and other redundant items that don't need to be in the narrative. so let's cut them out

Not Trimmed, bloated (text in red is irrelevant, doesn't help the prose / slows the images down) ->

When she emerged, she grabbed the wooden comb on the shelf and ran it through her wavy hair. Having it tied up for hours caused the waves but she knew they wouldn’t last. Her hair was heavy and thick, by the time she went to bed they would be gone again. There wasn’t a mirror, but she could see herself well-enough in the reflective glass next to the doorway. Her long skirt stopped just above her ankles, the dark, almost black color broken up only by a few embroidered flowers her mother had added. They were oddly shaped, the petals connecting in some places and floating beside the pistil.

Trimmed ->

When she emerged, she grabbed her wooden comb. It caught in the slept-on tangles and mats, tearing with each forceful passthrough. She winced but didn't stop. There wasn't a mirror, but she didn't need one. The reflective glass near the door revealed a put-together look. Fai's long skirt stopped just above her ankles, the dark, almost black color broken up by a few embroidered flowers. They were oddly shaped, the petals connecting in some places and floating beside the pistil. She ran her fingers over them and thought of her mother.

^ Of course this could use some more editing, it always can, but here we cut out the extra bits to focus on what elements were important for the reader. We also infer now that the mother made the embroidered flowers rather than being directly told

Both of these are good suggestions for writing to go from a first draft to a polished draft! remember, it's far better to edit something that already exists than it is to fix what doesn't -- AND, perfection isn't out there, so focus on having fun, getting what you want on the page/screen, and then work from there :)

happy to help otherwise! I'm part of a writers' group on Discord if you want to join us - The Writers' Factory - it's not a social server though, it's really only for writing and getting help with your skills/stories!

[justrightofanevening]

You have to say something. You have to pick one. You know you wanted to ask her about yourself, but what would you say? What could she possibly know? In the end, you decide on something else.

"I wanted you ask you about...my dreams."

She pauses.

Something about this topic must pique her curiosity, because she sets down the books she was re-shelving, gesturing you to sit with her. You're not sure where to go until she just sits on the floor, and so you follow her lead, clutching the book you hold in your hands like a lifeline.

"Raphaella may be better suited to this topic of discussion. I don't remember my own dreams."

Thinking of her makes you shiver. "I'd rather not, if that's alright."

She shrugs, unconcerned. "Do you have a more specific line of inquiry? Is there something you feel is wrong?"

You stop to think. You don't usually remember your own dreams either, but the echoes of what is left unnerve you. Colors you don't understand and scenes you can't recall. But the emotions remain. You know you woke up a few days ago feeling desperate, like you needed to talk with these people more than anything else. There had to have been something they could tell you if that was the case, right? You tell her as much.

"As you are very well aware, your removal from the Bifrost resulted in significant damage to your memory."

The word Bifrost fills you with dread, though you're unsure why. She continues.

"There is a 40.7% chance that recovering some of that memory may lessen the disconnect between you and your dreams. They are memories themselves, after all."

You just sigh. "How do I do that...?"

For once in your time here, she actually has a solution. "When you first arrived here, not everything was lost. Often, you would repeat phrases to yourself in an effort to make muscle memory do your remembering for you. Do you still recall any parts of this?"

What she's saying does ring a bell, and you grow quiet as you try to think.

A list of things about yourself...How were you supposed to remember what those things were if your memory is the entire problem here? The book in your hands brings you comfort, and you grip it tightly. What would you deem important enough to recite?

...Your name seemed like a safe bet. Would trying to recite it again access that muscle memory Ivy was talking about? It couldn't hurt to try.

< Previous - First - Next >

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Help. Pls seal a competent doctor in an envelope and send them to me.

OK. I'm in danger. Ha. Still fighting to stay alive with what I have, but... uh... Two out of three doctors are confirmed incompetent and the third hasn't acquitted himself too well, but I'm not positive he's lacking information I need to live and resistant to learn it. The other two are definitely like that, and that's not good for the ol' complicated health problems. I'm not easy to treat and BOY DO THEY ALL HATE THAT!

Today was the gynecologist. I hate that. I hate having one of those. I hate having to navigate all this gendered shit that's phrased like people like me don't exist. Forget "nonbinary," I have to keep saying "total hysterectomy" over and over and OVER. I hate that this person sees me as NOTHING BUT my gendered body parts and she's REAPEATEDLY refused to engage with anything going on in the rest of my body. I go to this person's office and I become tits and a vagina. Mainly the vagina. With people intermittently forgetting I don't have the other standard equipment.

I didn't know how to prepare for today. I had a week. I made a phone appointment in order to beg for an in-person appointment to lay out all my complicated shit, and she tried to take care of it over the phone anyway. I had not prepared for that. I mentioned that my hair was falling out, as a persistent menopause symptom that was not being addressed, and she focused on that, interrupted me, and went off on how she could not regrow my hair. And, OK. But that wasn't what I meant and she didn't give me room to explain what I DID mean. I did manage to be annoying enough to get the in-person appointment. And then I didn't know what I ought to take with me.

I spent all week going in circles, wondering what she needed to know, and how to say it so she'd understand. I do have the neurodivergent inclination to, you know, explain things when I'm not understood. And I don't know how else to make a doctor understand the type of healthcare I need! Shouldn't they listen to me? I have ample evidence that they don't, but I don't know how they expect to treat me otherwise.

Over the phone, she hit me out of left field with the fact that she's been dragging her feet on my estrogen dose because I had a bad reaction to ONE MEDICATION, ONE TIME. I don't even know if it was the estrogen, it could've been a binding agent or some shit. She decided that for me, she also decided my breast pain was from too much estrogen (even though my dose is at post-menopausal levels) and she's been prescribing me medicine based on that story she told herself.

I told her my experience is that I've never had more breast pain with a higher hormone dose, it's always gotten better... and I'm pretty sure she doesn't believe me. Like, I said that, and she reiterated later that more estrogen causes breast pain. I reiterated, that wasn't my experience and I do have anecdotal evidence at least of women who have breast pain from low estrogen too. She basically went, "OK, here's some higher estrogen. Whatever."

Then I said I was also willing to use the injectable kind, or an implant. Oral estrogen hurt my liver earlier, so I agree with her that something other than that would be safer. I thought she would know about these other methods. I did not research their existence. I mean, estrogen injections? I'm active in trans circles, that's just... That's shit's not special. That's just Tuesday.

She said, "What is that? I've never heard of that." She didn't even know enough about it to think, for a second, "Hmm, maybe I should know about that. Maybe I shouldn't admit I don't know that." Nope. I'm asking for weird medication and the burden is on me to explain this craziness.

What I wanted to say was, "Don't you know even one transwoman? Aren't you in women's health??" But I didn't know what the hell that was gonna get me. I sputtered for a bit and finally managed, "That's... pretty basic gender clinic stuff..."

She said, "Do you want me to refer you to a gender clinic?" right away. Fuck, I should've just said, "YES! I WANT THAT SO MUCH! LET ME GO!" But I was so baffled and confused at that point that I was shaking.

The spouse found a name of an injectable estrogen brand and offered it to her. She had a look at his phone and said, "I don't know what that is and I'm not going to prescribe it if I don't know what it is." She offered a referral to another doctor that does, "Off-label stuff, the crazy stuff the rest of us don't want to deal with." Ha-ha, okay. Cool. Yeah. That's me!

So I have a new patch with more estrogen in it and GOD HELP ME if I have a bad reaction to it. I've never been on this particular type of estradiol before, but I wasn't getting any traction when I asserted there are different kinds of estrogen that I may tolerate better or not as well. No acknowledgement. No engagement. More irrelevant information from the special snowflake who looks things up on the internet and thinks they're smarter than a doctor. Fucking hell, BUT I KNOW WHAT ESTROGEN INJECTIONS ARE.

Oh, and because we waited over an hour past our appointment time to get in, the garage where we parked our car closed before we could get out. We had to beg to be let in. While I was melting down and feeling like I was gonna pass out.

I got a soda and some nuggets, I'm fine. I lived. I got home and looked up injectable estrogen + Canada, because, deep down, I do doubt myself and wonder if I'm insane. Maybe Canadian transwoman suck their hormones out of the mighty moose, fuck if I know. But, uh, no. It's a thing. Yeah. Pretty basic thing. Once weekly injections. No public option for it, though. Trans folks pay extra to be who they are!

Here's the kicker, while we were waiting for the nuggets and soda, the spouse said, "While she was saying that she didn't know what it was, the poster behind her, with the birth control options? Estrogen injection is the third one on there."

"God, why didn't you just point to it?"

"I didn't know what she'd do."

That's... Probably pretty wise, yeah. I don't think she would've done anything GOOD.

I'm not being allowed to participate in my own healthcare as an equal partner. People are just... making decisions for me and never telling me. And they fight me when I say it's not helping and I try to give them some reasons why. They want me to take what they give me and shut up. But that'll KILL me. It HAS BEEN KILLING ME.

The family doctor is at the root of this, he's in charge of everything. I can't get rid of him. I'm trying, but it's not set up so I can get rid of him. There isn't another doctor available who I can switch to. Clinics are filling the gaps, but I can't shitcan my actual doctor to get care on random from a clinic. They won't let me. I'm not familiar with this system. I know someone who knows it better and they're willing to help. We're going to have to get back in touch with them, and I hope they know what to do.

At the moment... I'm not safe. I'm not getting good care. I'm getting bullying, gaslighting and apathy. So much that I worry about posting this stuff on the internet. Like all y'all aren't going to believe me either. Surely, I must be exaggerating. This is... This reads like warmed-over Kafka, or Catch-22. This is my life. For now. While I'm able to fight for it.

[dejabluebabygirl]

I See You - Chapter 1

Miles Quaritch x Fem! Na'vi OC

Summary: Vira Te Wou Auhew’ite, an albino Na'vi and future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan, The Ikran Riders of the Eastern Sea, keeps needing to save the demon Miles Quaritch at Ewyas command. When she's given a sign to try to teach him The People's way, both she and Miles struggle with their growing feelings for each other.

Authors note: All Na’vi speech will be in BLUE because I honestly don't think I can keep trying to translate forever lol so whether the phrase is written in Na’vi or in English, just imagine its like jake who is now sooooooo used to the Na’vi language it's like English lol. 

I looked up how Native Americans used to tell years part the most common answer I could find was the moon but Pandora is a moon so a year from Vira’s POV will be referred to as a “full sky cycle” so that's a full 12 months. For a month I’m going to refer to it as just “cycles” or “short cycles” unless anyone has a better suggestion!

Vira is also sister to Ikeyni (which is talked about in this chapter, https://james-camerons-avatar.fandom.com/wiki/Ikeyni ) but since she’s really not overall important to the movie lore I don’t think it matters much so I'll be taking liberties with the Tayrangi Clan Clan since honestly, James Cameron has left it all pretty bare bones, at least what I can find online.

I added a tag list if anyone wants to be added please just let me know! I didn't expect such a response on the prologue so thank you so much for being so kind! I cleaned up my manic writing so hopefully, you'll like this chapter, Chapter 2 is already partially completed too! Suggestions, prompts, and ideas are always welcome but can't be promised!

Oh and credit to @milknhonies for the idea to just bold the English after Na’vi, they’re the person I saw do it and their writing is amazing for Quaritch and I need to stop reading their stuff so I don’t borrow things on accident : ‘ )

Rating: T I think, nothing I would deem too spicy

Warnings: Canon typical violence, strong language/swearing, mild mentions of mating/sex, nudity, chase scene, aggressive behavior, some manhandling, and I guess manipulation too? I'm bad at this : ' )

Words: 5,797

--

Chapter 1

Vïra had a nearly sleepless night beside the sky demon, after she’d said it was Ewya’s will he live, he did not push her for more answers. She had sewn up his face in silence and soon after he’d fallen asleep against the tree. She’d found herself a small, soft patch of grass at his side and tried to get some rest. Close enough that she would hear if he needed anything but not close enough to touch,

In truth, Vira was tried. Tired of being away from home, tired of thinking she knew what Ewya wanted. She’d left her home twice now, trying to do what the great mother asked of her but it was hard when all she gave to Vira was brief images, flashes of the future when her kuru was attached to the large, white mushroom that thrived in her villages Glade of Echos. Their most sacred space to connect to Ewya. 

She knew she should be thankful, the great mother was speaking to her in her own way but it was a burden to keep traveling far from home to save a demon. To see the destruction he left in his wake. 

For reasons unknown to her, Ewya wanted him alive. 

In total Vira had only ever received three visions from the great mother. She always saw things from her own eyes, things yet to pass. Her first as a child she had seen Toruk Makto come to their village, she seen so clearly her sister, Ikeyni riding off to war with the Sky People on the backs of their Ikrans. When she’d told her mother and sister they had laughed, thought it was merely a child playing a game but a day later Jake Sully, the dream walker who became Toruk Makto, came to them. Her sister flew off to battle without hesitation. 

The second was when she saw the demon falling on the back of his royal blue Ikran. Falling from the Ikran rookery in Ayram alusìng used by the Omatikaya clan, she’d been shown in it in one of her visits to the clan. She saw she was on her gold Ikran Stiwi, diving down beside him, shouting at him to use Tsaheylu in English. The pink Na’vi fled from home right then and there and flew straight to the floating mountains. She perched on a cliff face and waited for the demon to fall and did as Ewya showed her. 

Vira had gotten an earful from her mother for taking off without telling anyone and promised not to do it again. But she would. She did it again, she’s done it this very afternoon. She’d gone and connected her kuru to the large white mushroom and saw the demon flying on his Ikran, going down into the forest, then in a flash, she saw herself bandaging up his wounds. She knew what she needed to do and left immediately, following the coast of the eastern sea south for hours, closer to where the Metkayina villages were. 

Then after feeling like she had traveled south forever, she saw the large royal blue Ikran going down into the woods just as she’d seen. She pursued on Stiwi, leaving her in a nearby tree as she quickly and quietly climbed down to observe the demon before assisting him. For being in such pain, he’d spotted her much quicker than she’d excepted. 

For now, Vira laid and tried to focus on her breathing, the calmness of her breath, the softness of the grass and ignore the strange feeling from being around the demon. The weird pull that pooled her stomach. It got worse when she touched him, she had a hard time not thinking about how his hard, muscled abdomen had felt under her nimble fingers. She’d help heal Na’vi men amongst her clan but they had never made her feel like that. Her face and ears felt hot at the thought of changing his bandages tomorrow. 

The feeling had gotten even worse when he’d grabbed her kuru, an act that both scared her and made her heart beat loud in her chest.

She’s never been touched in such a manner by anyone, let alone a male Na’vi. 

Let alone a demon. 

Went it just felt like Vïra had fallen asleep, she was awoken by a sharp tug on her tail. She screamed as pain shot up her spine as she was dragged over to the demon from her sleeping place. Her fingers left marks in the soil as she tried to get away but he was too strong. 

“Morning princess,” the blue sky demon quipped, her pink tail still wrapped around his knuckles, he flashed a fanged smile.

“Not princess,” she grumbled while attempting to snatch her tail back. He held it tight for a few moments but let it go without warning after she gave a few hard tugs, causing her to fall back on the ground. 

“Sorry about that sweetheart, just pulling your tail a little.” He let out a chuckle, amused with himself. 

She made an annoyed noise but tried her best to remember her manners. He was a demon, she shouldn’t expect kindness but she’d do right by the great mother. Get him healed, send him away. 

“Vira Te Wou Auhew’it,” she said adjusting herself as she sat back up, placing a hand on her chest as she gave her name. The demon looked at her like she grew extra limbs. “Vira is okay.” 

“Miles Quaritch.” he cracked a small, fanged smile that she wasn’t sure if altogether friendly or threatening.

She repeated his full name back to him, testing it on her tongue. 

“Just call me Miles, Vira.”  He couldn’t quite say her name correctly with his accent but he tried, she let out a giggle and covered her mouth, flushed with embarrassment. 

“What?” He asked, his ears down in disappointment he couldn’t hide. 

“Your saying is off but it is okay. Your language was not easy to learn either. Still struggle.” she reassured him with a small, kind smile he didn’t deserve. 

–

Vira left the alien to go find them some food and gather water after she’d checked his bandages, there wasn’t much she could do for his injuries, even as a future Tsahìk, there was a limit to her abilities. Maybe the Sky People would be able to do more, after regaining some more strength he’d be able to leave in the next day or two and she could go home.

The prospect of returning home filled with her excitement and nervous energy, after many years of prodding mother had finally gotten her to accept a betrothal, it was deemed that they would mate before Ewya in 2 short cycles of time when the seasons changed. It would be mating season then and while they could mate at any time, Vira has always hoped to make the bond during this sacred time. 

Vira was an other amongst her people, while she was a part of the tribe, their leaders' sister and daughter of the Tsahìk but she was just different. Different in more than just her pink coloring but in her mannerisms and thoughts. Throughout her whole childhood Vira was quiet and inquisitive, she liked the arts and the songs of the past, always seeking knowledge. She didn't mind spending time alone and away, they were a tribe but she was happy to have solitude with Ewya in the Glade of Echos or to stay home making jewelry rather than playing games. When she wanted to be included or tried, she would be picked on for her looks, stature, or being strange. Many nights she remembered crying in her mother's arms, asking why Ewya had made her so different from everyone else. Things got easier as she aged, more of The People realized she was a valuable scholar and would be a good Tsahìk someday. Vira had made many friends with the women of the village, they found her sweet and easy to talk to, and they thought it funny to make her pink face pinker by talking of mating acts. Vira was quick to love those who gave her kindness and she especially found ap lace in her heart for the younglings she would teach when she was in the village.

But what Vira truly wanted from her tribe she could not have, acceptance was one thing but a heart match with a Na’vi man she felt was not in the stars for her. She knew the gazes of males danced over her pink skin every mating season since she came of age. Many worried her coloring would pass on or were concerned with how small her stature was, making them keep their distance. They didn’t even try to get to know her.

Vira could not deny that she was petite, small for even a Na’vi woman, some of the younglings girls in their teen full sky cycles were already as tall or taller than her. Many of The People thought small stature meant a sign of weak Na’vi children. The thought made her sad.

She'd heard story after story, song after song that talked about how pure and sure the love of a heart match would be but it was not meant to be for her.

But she could have children to love and care for. 

Lately, Vira no longer felt the drive to hold out hope for a heart match, she had been holding out for but after 20 full sky cycles and Ewya did not grant it to her despite all her prayers. She knew it was time to start a family and have many children. When she’d helped the women of her village give birth and she held their babes in her arms for those few brief moments before giving them back to their mothers, she knew that was a love she craved. Vira had traveled far and wide amongst the clams and gained much knowledge, seen all their sacred animals, and observed many rituals. She felt fulfilled in this sense, learned all she could from The People, and was ready to finally stay home and take her fledgling Tsahìk duties more seriously. She’d gone to her mother after helping with a birth last cycle and asked her to inquire about betrothal matches, 

Huärì had been the best match her mother returned to her with, he was a great hunter and great warrior. Much like her he had held off looking for a mate for some time but he was much older than her with 45 full sky cycles passing since his birth but he was still strong and capable. He was also kind to her and told her she looked like the eclipse sky, she knew he would provide for her and their future children. They would be content together and maybe they would grow to love. Surely they’d love the babes they had together.

Stiwi Viras Ikran, flew swiftly over the top of the jungle, bringing her towards the sea. She had not brought a bow or spear to hunt with but her net had been attached to her saddle. She would dive with her Ikran and bring their fill of fish, as she had done many times at home. 

Maybe with some food in his belly the demon would also be less irritable. Why one so miserable was serving of Ewyas grace made her head swim. 

—

Miles spent most of his time laid up against the tree, he’d tried using his neck communicator once Vira had left, hoping with being closer range to Bridgehead City and the RDA that something would go through but it didn’t, the thing was busted. He hastily ripped it off his neck and chucked it angrily into the foliage. Fucking junk.

The Recom Na’vi pulled his tank top back on but left his vest discarded, he couldn’t be bothered with it right now. He managed to stand and move around the clearing enough that he was able to take a leak and pat his dark blue Banshees head. He felt woozy though, weak. Either from his extended trip under the sea from fighting Sully or just needing food and water as the pink Na’vi told him, he couldn’t be sure but decided to rest would be the best way to save up some strength. He situated himself back against the tree and slept like the dead. 

Quaritch woke up, bleary-eyed and disoriented to the smell of fish roasting over a small fire. The sunlight was deteriorating and Vira busied herself, stoking the flames and taking great care of the fish. He was a little surprised she didn’t tuck tail and run away from him, he hadn’t exactly been kind to her even though she’d done nothing but try to help him. She was pluckier than he first pegged her for.

“Smells good, Tiny.”

Vira’s pink ears perked when she heard his voice, dropping everything to check on him, asking about his wounds and his pain. She gently lifted up his shirt and checked under the leaves she’d patched him up with utmost care. Her small digits traced the stitches gently that she’d placed in his face, she left goosebumps in her wake as she muttered softly to herself in Na’vi. He was just taken by surprise by the gentleness in the most brutal environment known to man, that was all.

Miles was equally surprised by how much of what she was saying he actually understood what she said to herself, ‘strong heart, energy flow, no infection.’ He supposed he had Spider to thank for that, a little pang of sadness bloomed in his chest as he thought of his son. As he thought of all the events over the past few months, even in his relentless pursuit of Sully he’d felt quite close to the boy. He cared about him, and loved him as much as he could, even if he wasn’t really his father, they’d certainly formed a strange but strong bond over the months they were together. It didn't change that he had a soft spot for the kid. He’d taught him more about the Na’vi the science pukes ever did. 

“How do you know all this healing stuff?” 

“Mother is Tsahìk.”

“And where’d you learn English” 

He watched her scrunch up her nose and brow in thought, her tail thumped against the ground a few times, trying to find the right word. 

“Mother's sister, she taught our people.” 

“Aunt, your mother's sister is your aunt. Where did she learn English?” 

“Grace Augustine's school.” a sadness swelled in her orange eyes.  “Aunt is gone now, she died in war against the Sky People when my sister fought with Toruk Makto” 

The words hung in the air. Did she know exactly who she was dealing with? Did she know he was the one that led the assault against her people? The reason her family member died? He ignored it. 

“Your sister, huh?”

“Yes, she is Olo’trykan. She is great leader. I will be Tsahìk one day.” 

That meant her sister was a clan leader and she would be their shaman, speaking to that damn tree god Grace herself had always been going on about. Said tree god that according to Vira, wanted him alive. 

“So you are a pretty little princess,” Miles said with sharp sarcasm dripping from his words. 

Vira half-heartedly bared her little fangs in his direction. “Not princess.” 

He barked a laugh that strung his ribs at her little display, he didn’t know if he understood what a princess was but she didn't like being called it. That meant he'd never stop.

After she’d finished her examination she came back with a large leaf full of cooked fish for him to eat.

“Irayo” Thank you. 

She looked a little startled at him for using her natural tongue but gave him a little smile as she got herself a few fish to eat. “kea tìkin.” No need to thank me.

They ate their fill and she put the fire out and disposed of the bones and scarps by feeding them to the Ikrans. She said it was to not attract the attention of the forest critters, no food or lights in the jungle after dark. He watched the two Ikrans with interest and she pat their heads and fed them. She seemed experienced with them. His royal blue Ikran one look a nasty snap at her gold one, asserting his dominance when they were introduced but they seemed to get along alright after, they even went up into the trees to nest together.

Vira came to sit near him, it didn’t go unnoticed by Miles how she’d angled her body so she was facing him, keeping her pink tail out of his reach. She was sharp, he’d give her that. 

Miles and Vira chatted on, going back and forth and a mishmash of Na’vi and English. He found she very curious about the sky people and learned was from the Eastern sea. They traded little scraps of information to each other by bioluminescent light. She’d come a long way from home to save him. He surmised she was a teacher or some kind of academic since she was not Tsahìk yet. She spoke of how she often spent time traveling to other clans, learned their ways, and brought them back to her people, it was why she’d been in the Ocean Na’vi village that day he’d burned their huts. She’d been there to observe the Tulkun and tell her people of their bonds with the reef dwellers and sing their songs upon her return. Nothing was written, all knowledge was passed by word of mouth or song.

He’d told her how he was a warrior for the sky people, holding up his five fingers in the air to emphasize the point that he was not wholly Na’vi. Her orange eyes seemed captivated by them like they were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. So strange and alien from her own four-fingered hands. Quaritch also told her of his pursuit of Toruk Makto, which she’d known anyways, clearly hearing him on the beach. He told her about his near drowning, her orange eyes sparkled in awe that he survived and flew all the way to this very spot. He tried to give her as little information as possible but enough to keep her hooked while she prattled on, happy to chat. 

She passed him a crude, animal hide water bottle and he drank his fill, water dripping down his chin to his chest and shirt. Her orange eyes were downcast after that, Miles supposed he must have been quite the looker for a Na’vi as he watched her pink face and ears darken in the bioluminescent light of the forest. Maybe that would be useful later.

“Tomorrow I will take you to the river to clean, ”  Her eyes were still politely averting his gaze. “Then you can leave the day after, your strength will return then.” 

The idea of leaving the day after tomorrow and heading back to the RDA was promising, they could double-check his wounds and he could go back with a better, more prepared team to take out Jake Sully. That was his prime directive afterall, that was the mission. But he couldn't shake the feeling that leaving Vira felt like missing out on a golden opportunity to learn the savage's ways, the little pink Na’vi was by far the most cooperative he’d dealt with in either of his lifetimes. He’d learned some things from Spider, gained some insight but he wasn’t sure how much of the information was reliable, he’d been loyal to Sully all those months even though they bonded. Vira had loyalty to her own tribe. Toruk Makto was nothing to them except someone they went to war with over a decade ago, just a memory for her.

He knew needed to live, eat, and breathe like the enemy and learn all he could about their ways. That's how he would take Sully down. 

—

There was no violence when Vira woke up the next day, the demon's eyes were still closed and he was breathing softly. She quietly sat up and stretched her long pink limbs and stared at Miles while he slept. He didn't seem so demon-like when he slept, Miles seemed so much like any other Na’vi but maybe a bit bigger, more muscled, and with more fingers too. 

Vira’s mind and eyes drifted down to his large and strong 5 fingered hands, peacefully folded in Miles's lap as he snored softly. She thought of how just those hands seemed to be able to hold her in place, by either grabbing her own hands or her tail, how much power did the alien hold in his body? It send a little shiver down her spine and heat bloomed in her cheeks, just like last night when she’d seen the water drip down from his mouth onto his broad chest. It was a feeling she really didn't understand like there was a dozen tiny kenten flying in her belly. 

The pink Na’vi figured now in the morning glow was as good a time as any to go and gather from the jungle, to fly Stiwi back to the ocean today would be foolish when she’d need her to push back home tomorrow. No, she'd save her Ikrans strength and collect food from the forest. Ewya would provide. 

Vira walked the forest paths quitely gathering the bounty the great mother provided, easily filling her bag with Yovo and Tìhawnuwll fruits that were so ripe she was sure they would burst with sweetness. They would both go to bed again with full bellies, each ready for long journeys. Ready to go home. 

It was midday when she returned to camp, bag, arms, and hands overflowing with bounty. Miles still slept, Vira rolled her orange eyes. He like a baby, slept all day, made too much noise, and would be useless in a clan. Except maybe he could be used to carry heavy things. She giggled at the thought of him being forced to pile firewood back home as she placed the fruit next to him. 

Miles' yellow eyes cracked up at the sound of her laugh, which made her smile more. 

–

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly, Vira led Miles to the river to drink their fill and bathe. When she’d given him a small bundle of herbs she’d bound together on her morning excursion so he could clean himself properly and remove the salve from his wounds, he had given her a look of confusion. She explained her best in a mix of Na’vi and English while doing washing motions. He seemed to understand as he began taking off his sky people clothing. 

Nakedness was not shameful to the Na’vi but Vira couldn’t help but turn her head away when he began to remove his pants. She got up and walked towards the jungle while he cleaned himself, stomach aflutter as she heard the water splashing with his movements. For the briefest of moments, she thought to look back for a moment but held back the urge to peak. Her face felt flush again and wondered if she was getting ill. Back home she’d bathed many times with men from her village, as long as it wasn’t mating season there was no harm in the act. But Miles made her feel different, he was of the sky people, not a true-born Na’vi, she told herself it was just her natural curiosity getting the better of her. Was a demon’s body different than the others she’d seen? 

Vira jumped when she felt his blue hand, large and heavy on her shoulder, she’d heard him get out of the water but hadn’t realized how close he was. Miles was half-dressed and wet with only his pants on. She took in just how much larger he was than her as he took beside her for the first time. The top of her head only just reached his shoulder. She felt her face flush a deeper shade of purple. 

“Waters fine Princess if you want to get in, I’ll watch your six.” 

Vira didn't understand exactly what he was saying but she understood it was her turn to get in the water, she headed towards the bank and reached behind her neck to do the animal hide ties of her beaded breastplate, its edge lined with Ikran teeth and clearwing sheddings from Stiwi.  Vira went to set it on the bank behind her and saw Miles was watching her, standing relaxed against a tree with his arms folded over his broad, fully covered chest. 

“Mìn.” Turn. 

She made a rotating motion with her hand and he still didn't move. 

“Ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen before sweetheart, just making sure your little pink ass don’t get eaten on me.” 

Vira rolled her orange eyes but didn't argue with the large blue demon. He was more likely to get eaten than she was but it was the last night she had to deal with him, with his sharpness and hubris. She turned her back to him and undid the small leaf covering on breasts and undid her tweng, keeping her tail between her legs to protect her scared place. At home she wouldn't have cared, back home there was no need for modesty but his yellow eyes felt intrusive. He was an other, he was not part of The People. 

She wadded into the river and plunged herself beneath the crisp, clean water. 

Any member of the Tayrangi Clan was just as comfortable on the back of their Ikran in the air or swimming in the sea. They were a coastal clan and utilized both the forest and sea both to their advantage. From a young age, they were all taught to swim and to be as comfortable in the water as they were on land. 

Vira did everything quickly as she bathed. Normally she took her time and enjoyed her time in the water but with Miles's eyes burning into her back she felt the need to move, like prey under the eye of a skilled predator. She washed her hair and her body quickly with the herbs, quickly wrung out her long white curls, and quickly dressed so they could quickly return to their camp.

She met Miles's gaze once fully dressed. “Sreton’ong soon must get back.” Dusk. 

–

Back at camp Vira gave Miles of the tihawnuwll fruits while she began to peel and dice the yovo’s. As she’d suspected when she’d picked them up, they burst the minute he tried to bite into the supple purple flesh. She laughed at him as blue juice dribbled onto his hand and down his chin, freshly washed and already dirty again. Definitely like a baby.

He shrugged his massive shoulder, unashamed of his mess, and continued eating, making undignified slurping sounds, determined to get every ounce of sweetness. She knew she should have scolded him for being too loud, that he’d attract the wildlife to their camp, but the sounds made Vira feel uncomfortable. Those sounds made her skin crawl and her stomach flip. Those sounds nearly made Vira nearly cut herself. It didn't go unnoticed.

“Jesus, give that here.” He barked, lazily resting against his tree, one leg sprawled and the other with his one keen up with his strong forearm eating on it, hand extended for her to pass the fruit. He looked so comfortable in the forest that she forgot for a moment he was an alien wearing the face of her people until her three fingers brushed against his four as she handed over the fruit. 

There was no conversation, just silence as Vira watched Miles make quick work of the fruit. She was focused on his hands, the hands of a demon. Surely five fingers was too many, it would be clumsy and awkward but he was agile as a Palulukan with the horrible metal knife. Didn’t he, didn't these sky people know that Ewya forbade the use of metals from the ground? But she forgave the sin to watch his hands move skillfully like great blue Kali'weya.

“Hand me some leaves to put these on,” Miles ordered and she obeyed gathering several large leaves to serve the chopped Yovo fruit on. 

Before long you were both sitting against the tree, enjoying each other company, exchanging stories as you had the previous night. He was nicer today, and more enjoyable, you’d maybe even miss him and his stories of the sky people a little bit when he was gone. Today he told you of the great and terrible machine arachnids that made their large, tall, metal dwellings in minutes. 

Vira was hanging onto Miles every word as she bit into a tihawnuwll that promptly exploded over her. She hissed in irritation and flattened her ears in embarrassment,  she’d been so captivated by the story she’d forgotten of their ripeness, 

Miles laughed at her, his fangs gleaming in the glow of the jungle. 

“Looks like you made a mess of yourself too, Tiny,” He tried to hand her a leaf but she batted it away out of humiliation. 

“No, no, I’ll wash in the river. It's not far.” 

Vira, a shade darker than normal, got up quickly and started to walk. 

“I’ll come with ya.” 

She just wanted a moment away, to clean the stickiness from her skin, to let the heat dissipate from her cheeks, to not hear her heart pound in her ears.

Vira flicked her pink tail in irritation and it hit his leg. The pink Na'vi was so surprised that he was already behind her and keeping pace that she stopped dead in her tracks, making him knock into her from behind. She nearly lost her footing. 

She whipped around to face him and lashed out.  

“You? You make too much noise, always making messes,  like a baby, not knowing what to do. Useless Skxawng.”  

He understood enough of what she was saying to know did not like it.

Not one bit.

–

Quaritch quickly backed the little pink na’vi against a tree trunk, her head hit the back of it with an audible thunk. She was surely seeing stars when her big doe eyes looked up at him, his face contorted in anger as his large blue arms caged both sides of her head and his legs on either side of her.

Why her mood soured so quick he couldn’t say but he wasn’t taking lip like that from anyone, let alone some petulant little native.

He leaned his massive Recom body down so he was eye to eye with her. 

“Now, I’d say I’ve been pretty damn nice to you today so I won’t be having any of that” he gritted at her, his fangs gleaming in the low bioluminescent glow of the forest. “So I’m gonna need you to quit being so damn ugly, sweetheart.” 

She hissed at him, barring her pearly white fangs like the little savage she was. Her pink face all puffed up and angry like a wet house cat. 

This hadn’t been how he planned to have this conversation with Vira. He’d planned simply to ask her to teach him, she’d seemed to actually enjoy helping him with Na’vi and talking about the culture but she wasn’t playing nice tonight so neither was he. 

“Now here how this is going to go,” he drawled, not backing away from her. “Tomorrow you’re not going home, you’re staying with me and you’re going to teach me everything about the Na’vi, do you understand me?” It was an order not a question.

She didn’t like that. 

He saw defiance grow in her orange eyes like a roaring flame. It was that same pluck that made her bold enough to come back to him and take care of him earlier when he was cruel. Quaritch had seen enough faces all twisted up and angry at him that practically see what she was thinking about doing and he had to snuff that shit out. 

Miles leaned in so they were nearly nose to nose. “If you spit on me Princess, I swear to whoop your ass so hard you’ll be just as blue as any other goddamn Na’vi.”  He growled 

Her eyes widen in fear and her features softened, he watched her throat bob as she swallowed hard. Miles backed his face away a few inches, taking her change in demeanor for compliance. 

But he blinked and suddenly she wasn’t in front of him anymore.

He looked down as Vira dove between his leg, she’d dropped all her body weight, sliding down the tree, and was now making a break for it by diving between his wide open legs. He tried to stomp on her pink tail as it disappeared between his lower limbs.

The albino Na’vi was behind him, sprinting into the forest, ghosting a glowing trail at her heels. 

He followed hot on her trail, within seconds he could see her. Vira was small and agile but her coloring made her light up like a Christmas tree in the glowing woods. His strides were impossibly big compared to hers, she couldn’t outrun him, even with his broken rib. Did she really think she was getting away?

But she kept going kept trying, even when he got so close her tail brushed his abdomen, she tried to pick her pace and take a different twists and turns but she couldn’t get away. Not from him. Quaritch swore he could smell her fear with his Na’vi nose, there was no mistaking he’d find her if she tried to hide.

The Recom Na’vi watched her break through the brush into a clearing and then just stop, for no rhyme or reason that he could see as he stared at her between branches. She was just stopped dead in her tracks a few feet in. Miles watched as her head slowly moved in all directions, wild white hair gently swaying. Was there danger? Was this surrender? 

He took a deep breath to regain some composure and to try and get his pain under control, his blue and pink nose flaring as his left side bloomed with fresh pain from the pursuit. He broke through the foliage behind her and saw what she was staring at. 

It was dozens, no, hundreds of little white floating lights. 

He took a few steps closer to her and she didn’t move, she was mesmerized by whatever they were.

“I’ve never seen so many,” Vira breathed, back still to him. 

“What are they?” He asked as one floated down towards him and illuminated his face. It was almost like a jellyfish crossed with a puffball dandelion that’d gone to seed back on earth.

He smacked the thing. 

The albino Na’vi turned around, her stupor seemingly broken. He thought she was going to chastise him or yell or bolt again but she was calm. Not at all what he had excepted after he just chased her through the jungle. She was serene and unafraid.

“Gentle, they are pure” She instructed in a whisper. Her two small pink hands gathered up one of his large blue ones and had him open his palm, guiding it toward the glowing tuft. It floated into his hand. 

“What are these things?” He asked again, normally not one to ask nicely twice but they were so beautiful, in an alien way, Miles forgot to be annoyed about repeating himself. His ears went flat and he furrowed his brow as he pulled it closer to his face to observe. She released his hand as yellow eyes filled with wonder at it.

“Atokirina” Miles’s eyes moved from the bright little light to her as watched her pause to think of the English. Viras face scrunched and tail twitced as she thought. A few more tufts floated down onto his arms and shoulders.

“Seeds of the Tree of Life, a sign of Ewya.” 

Quaritch stood there still as a statute, if he moved he feared he might spook Vira and she’d to run off again, with the pain searing into his side he did not to chase her anymore. As he stood there more and more of the seeds kept landing on him until the only part of him not covered in them was his face. Vira seems content to sit there and watch the scene unfold, the Recom Na’vi could see she had tears in the corners of her orange eyes as she looked at him. He felt ridiculous covered in them, all the while the little pink savage was having some kind of religious experience. Utterly ridiculous. They were just seeds. Glowing, floating seeds.

“Did you mean it? That you wish to learn our way? To learn to be N'avi?” She spoke soft and looked into his eyes with such earnest it was almost painful.

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. He needed to learn their ways, maybe not for the pure reason Vira probably hoped for but it was the truth the he desired to learn.

“Ewya help me,” she murmured what sounded almost like a prayer and started up into his eyes. “I will teach you, Miles.” 

At her words, every single seed that landed on him all at once released themselves and floated up into the trees. His yellow eyes followed them as the bobbed away towards the tree tops.

It was beautiful and unexplainable.

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Prologue - Next Chapter

Master List

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Side note: Vira is only 7'8" just FYI, the average height for Na'vi is 8' to 10' so she's small. Here's the height comparison chart for Vira and some other Avatar Characters! I used https://www.heightcomparison.com/

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