#this is kinda long and i tried to get my thoughts in order i might've missed something not sure lol

[reds-skull]

Post script on Not Alive, Nor Dead

Like I mentioned yesterday, I have a lot to say about the fic now that it's done.

The TLDR is that I'm leaving an option for a sequel. No promises though.

Leaving the rest of it under the cut because idk how long it will end up.

Okay, so first thing I gotta admit is that I didn't plan shit lmao. I had the start very clearly in my head, which were the scenes I talked about in the first post I made about revenant AU. But the entire plot line with Graves being a secret revenant? Hell, even the whole 'revenants and non-revs are getting kidnapped around the world' was not planned.

The scene in chapter 4 with the PMC was the introduction for the anonymous PMC, but I didn't think of making Graves and in extension Shadow Company all the work of a revenant. I was debating even making him a revenant at all, up until I wrote the chapter introducing him.

This approach, of not planning shit, is what made me excited to sit down and write every day. It felt like I was discovering the story myself.

It's also a fucking miracle the story is coherent in any shape or form.

Now, I did write a few things before starting. They were a small overview of the character arcs I want the 141 to go through, and a brief about each revenant's powers, because those things need to be consistent.

The arc overview isn't accurate anymore, it has a version of Gaz's storyline that I didn't manage to fit in, where he has a fear of heights, and overcomes it throughout the fic. The only one really left unchanged was Soap, who had the whole "my powers are too destructive" thing ongoing for most of the story.

Speaking of Soap, the Konchar mystery? I was figuring it out while writing the 3 chapters before introducing 'Konchar'. There are some inconsistencies because of that, specifically in a line where Soap says something along the lines of "I did something on my Reaping, something that if I could replicate, I might've not been let on the team." which kinda makes sense but kinda doesn't, considering all that Ghost has done.

Ghost's struggles with Limbo were something I added after wanting to give him a parallel to Soap. Originally, Ghost's role was to be the guy that has already gone through what Soap is going through, already knowing everything and having as much control on Limbo as he can. But making Limbo this uncontrollable realm was more interesting... also having it reflect Ghost's mind and emotions was cool.

One of the most pleasant surprises was how Price's powers interacted with everyone else's. I think it was the best power to personality match I made, he's not as scary as the others at first glance, but the ability to bore into the minds of his enemies, the way no one can keep secrets from him? Makes him terrifying. It's not made clear in the fic, but the reason it took Price so long to figure Graves out is their previous encounters. Graves knew how to divert his thoughts away from his Shadows, and stop Price from finding out.

What made Price realize Grave's Shadows aren't human is he tried to read their mind, only to find a list of commands. Graves tried to keep them away as much as he can, but it was inevitable. Shepherd knew it, which is why he ordered Price to keep his mouth shut almost instantly.

Since the way revenants get their powers must be linked to the way they died, some revs were easier to find powers for than others. Obviously the 141 was first, some at the time I started thinking about how they died didn't have a canon near-death experience, like Price and Soap.

I took Ghost's og backstory, and the idea of Limbo was gotten from the fact he died in a coffin, in a state of in between life and death. What Limbo does to people was just 'scariest thing I could imagine' type of situation. In the end, I don't know if Limbo is scarier when Ghost couldn't control it, or when both he and Soap could.

With Soap, I knew I wanted something with explosions, so it was a no-brainer to make him die from one. I mentioned in another post, but revenant AU was originally at the very beginning just a thing of 'what if I put mw characters in my original magic system?', and in that scenario, Soap was the only one with powers, which were control over anti matter, meaning anything he touches or touches him explodes. The only scene from that one is of Soap pushing Ghost away and getting shot to high hell, only to go and explode the people that tried to kill him - which is chapter 8.

I chose to use Gaz's iconic hanging out of a chopper scene, because I found it funny tbh lol. Later, when I thought of how exactly he died, it became more serious.

Price's were just kinda random tbh. I figured telepathy is a good ability for a Captain.

Rudy obviously dies in the house fire he almost did in the campaign. Alejandro was harder, but I thought of how Graves locked him up in the black site prison alone, so I went for something similar.

It's not mentioned in the fic, but Farah was the youngest to die from all of them. The house collapse in the start of her flashbacks in mwi, where her father pulled her out of the rubble? She didn't survive it. She's a very rare revenant, to be Reaped when she was a kid.

Farah and Ghost's og backstory have a lot of similarities, in my mind they're parallels to each other. What Farah had that Ghost didn't, however, is other people, a community. I think that's why she didn't lose herself the way Ghost did.

Alex's was difficult, because his canon near-death experience was being exploded, like Soap. I used the fact he's ex CIA, to figure he probably took part of many covert operations, and one went wrong. He was caught, so now he can go invisible. This was the thing I failed to make clear the most in the fic, I think, since a few people asked, more than anything else.

Thomas Anderson, the revenant with underwater breathing abilities, was originally made just for Ghost to roast him. When chapter 8 rolled around, and I needed a random revenant to kill there, I thought using the one established would make sense.

Accidental foreshadowing like this was what carried the fic, tbh. It was like a huge session of 'yes, and'ing myself. A little bit of bullshitting confidently, sometimes it felt like that lmao.

The wedding vows in chapter 31 were, again, unplanned. Ghost said "till death do us apart, Johnny?", so I started looking up Christian wedding vows in English because I don't fully remember them. Later I thought "wait, Soap is Catholic, maybe they have a different version." and then I thought, "shit, he's fuckin' Scottish, he won't use fucking American Catholic vows." (maybe he would idk).

Anyway, I found the Celtic vows present in the fic, which sounded like a metaphor, so perfect I couldn't use them just for the original joke they were meant for. So Soap ends up reciting literal wedding vows at the man.

[here's a link to the website I found the vows at]

Last thing is the whole Makarov tie in to Konchar. I was thinking about how we never really dove deep into why Konchar did what he did, besides having his Reaper tell him "you have to kill Soap before he kills you". I heard an advice somewhere, that in world building you have to dive in two questions for it to be believable.

So, let's take Konchar for example. First question is, "how did Soap killing Konchar not bring on an international incident between Kastovia and the UK?". The answer is, "Konchar was an army deserter." Second question is, "why did Konchar desert the army?", and the second answer is, "because he left to work with Makarov."

We don't need to know why he left, not at the point I left the fic at. Those two answers would be enough for readers to not feel like there's a plot hole there, at least according to that advice I've heard.

NOW, with all of that out of the way, I wanted to post the notes I've made on each revenant's powers, because I thought it could be interesting for someone. AND! I kept some deleted scenes, and it would be a shame to just let them rot in the Google Doc lol.

First up, list of revenants and their powers:

[These aren't 100% accurate anymore, as they were written before I started writing the fic, and I only added stuff to them]

Ghost - limbo: is able to send a circle around him into “limbo”, a space between life and death, that no one can escape. Filled with his enemies. Only way to survive is if ghost brings you to the eye of the storm, where he keeps himself safe of his own powers. Ghost can be killed by any means if taken by surprise and doesnt activate his powers.

If stands still too long, inky hands start grasping at him from the ground. Prefers to sleep elevated.

Died in a coffin.

From chapter 21 and beyond - able to wield to withstand fire in his right hand.

Soap - explosion: cant be killed by explosions, and can explode anything he touches. Any injury with the root cause being explosion (fall from high building, debris scratches, etc.) will be healed, but he does feel pain from it. Gunshots cant kill him (the bullets shoot with explosions). Can be killed by any melee attack, poison, electricity.

Fire burns from his fingertips, hard to put out. Spreads when agitated. Hot to the touch.

Died from a fall because of an explosion.

From chapter 21 and beyond - able to wield the protective light in his left hand in Limbo.

Gaz - gravity: can manipulate gravity of himself and objects he touches. Cant die from falling. Can be killed by any means, but hard to catch and aim at while at motion.

Usually floats a couple inches off ground.

Died in a helicopter accident.

Price - telepathy: can talk and transmit simple ideas to other around him. Can feel emotions of others. Can be killed by any means, but Price can manipulate the enemies thoughts and distract them.

His thoughts can “leak” if left unguarded.

Died after being abandoned and without comms.

Alejandro - phase: can phase through solid objects, including bullets. Can be killed by any means if caught by surprise.

Sometimes accidentally phases through things.

Died in captivity.

Rodolfo - ice: can lower the temperature of anything he touches rapidly. Can freeze and jam guns. Can inflict ice burns. Can be killed by any means beside fire.

Breath always visible, cold to the touch.

Died in a fire.

Farah - steelskin: can deflect any attack to her body. Bullets, knives, rockets. Can be killed by poison easily, as needles cant pierce her skin and therefore medical administration is hard to give.

Skin shines oddly.

Died from a stab wound. [changed to what I explained above]

Youngest to become a revenant.

Alex - invisibility: can become invisible. Otherwise can be killed by any means, hard to spot.

Skin sometimes flickers.

Died when got caught.

Graves - shadow company: can create “shadows”, puppets he controls. Can be killed by any means, but hard to get through his shadows.

Doesnt have a shadow of his own, eyes become milky and vacant, leaking after a while.

Died from betrayal.

[I didn't manage to find a place to add this - yes, Graves died after his squad betrayed him. His powers are a replacement for the whole army. His last line, "Me? I am the army." was what he boiled down to. Limbo's victims marking him a traitor was two fold. He betrayed the 141, Vaqueros, the UFL and basically everyone around him, but he also betrayed his own Reaper, who gave him powers to not go through that very thing. It's also another reason why chapter 30 is called 'Die As You Live'.]

Kirill “Konchar” Bogomolov - telekinesis: can move objects with his mind. Can protect himself from any physical attack, and redirect them towards the attacker. Is a revenant of the Pull, like Gaz.  (name means “Lord” and “devotionalist”) First death from RPG, second death by Soap.

Now, for the cut content. Most of these are one scene, usually one that didn't fit the emotinal arc of the characters, or the direction was going somewhere I didn't like. There's one that is a page and a half long, and that chapter was one of the hardest to write, so I practically restarted it at one point.

I'll try to add the context they were originally in if I remember.

[Context: the scene in Chapter 5, where Ghost watches the night sky out of a window, unable to sleep, and Soap comes to speak with him for the first time since they fought about Soap's tendenticy to let himself get hurt. Soap says he heard rumors about Ghost, and Ghost asks what they said.]

“ (rumors) That you murder our soldiers.”

Something akin to fear rang through his chest. So he knows… He supposes it was meant to happen eventually.

Soap’s face, for some reason, doesn’t lose its newfound cheerfulness.

“And what do you think about those rumors?” Hell knows why he wants to keep hearing him talk.

“Well, that makes the two of us.”

… What.

“What?” Ghost intelligently mutters.

Soap’s eyes widen, face not unlike a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

[Reason to cut: Soap wasn't supposed to admit that yet. He also wouldn't have done it in such a non-chalant way, with how heavy the guilt weighs on him.]

[Context: Chapter 10, where Ghost was showing his powers to the Vaqueros and Graves.]

The Captain’s voice fills his head, “field’s clear, go ahead Lieutenant.”

Ghost glances one last time at Soap’s figure, no more than a small speck, far, far away from him.

He closes his eyes. The warm air of Las Almas dissipates into the chill of Limbo.

He opens them, confused. The void is quiet, the residents of Limbo looking at the distance, calm and still. It reminds him of… before.

Ghost frowns, narrowing his eyes to try and see what caught their attention. There, a far away point flickers.

A small, white flame. Where… Soap was standing. 

Ghost blinks and stumbles back. Price instantly sounds in his mind, “Simon, what’s going on?!”

“I saw something there…” He makes eye contact with the Captain, who is now jogging towards him, Gaz and Soap behind him. “Light… from Johnny.”

It can’t be… how is Soap able to affect Limbo? Every single spiritulogist he met agreed on the fact he’s a sort of master over Limbo, that the realm is a manifestation he’s inseparably linked to.

The only thing others can do there, is die.

“What do you mean light?” Price urges on.

“A small flame. Where Soap was. The victims were all staring at it.”

The 141 members reach him, Johnny rushing to him, “are you alright?”

Ghost gapes at him, “you’re different. I’ve… changed you.”

Soap frowns, “what are ye on about?” he steps closer.

Ghost takes a step back, “stop.”

The Sergeant stills, a hurt expression flashing on his face before he schools his features.

Price invades his mind, “Simon, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down?! I fucked up Soap! I need to-”

The ladder patterns. Ghost turns around.

“SIMON RILEY”

“Reaper”, he exhales shakily.

“YOU’VE DOOMED YOURSELF. IT IS TOO LATE.”

“What are you talking about?!” Ghost screams, “you keep saying I’m gonna die, while Johnny keeps suffering!”

“I DO NOT CARE ABOUT OTHER REVENANTS, SIMON.”

The Reaper leans in to shriek in his ears, Ghost clutching his head uselessly.

“YOU ARE INTERTWINED.” 

Ghost cries from the pain. His Reaper does not falter.

“KILL HIM FIRST.”

His vision fades along with the Reaper’s words.

“Ghost! Fuck, someone get a medic” Someone shouts above him.

Another voice interjects, “he’s not injured, Sergeant. He’s with his Reaper.”

“From my experience, that doesn’t make me holler and pass out!”

A third person joins the conversation, “shut it! He’s waking up.”

Ghost groans and makes a move to rub his eyes, only to be stopped by his hard-shell mask. “Simon? You alright son?” Price asks, bringing the smell of fresh flowers and a soft bed to him.

He gets up (when did he lay down?) and mutters, “fine”. His voice hoarse from screaming. He takes in his team, the three of them concernedly crouch beside him, except Soap, who’s pacing around.

The Sergeant stops and eyes him warily. 

“My Reaper’s mad.” he says in lieu of explanation to the others.

Soap stops, and looks down at him, still avoiding his stare, “it’s because of me, isn’t it?”

He sighs, “when those arms started grabbing ye I thought it was gonna-”

“What arms?” Ghost gets up.

“The dark arms from the ground, don’t tell me you didn’t noti-”

Ghost grabs the front of Soap’s shirt, “you fuckin’ see them?!”

The Sergeant struggles against his iron tight grasp, “aye! Thought I was hallucinating last night, fuckers made a pass at me-”

Ghost pushes him away, “fuckin’ hell”. 

What the fuck is going on?! Nobody can see the victims outside of Limbo. It’s almost like…

“He has some of my powers…” Ghost whispers to himself.

But that’s not possible? 

[Reason to cut: chapter wasn't working out for me. Characters not reacting in character. Reaper not supposed to show up just yet, and what it says kinda repeats previous encounters.]

[Context: chapter 13, instantly after Rudy and Gaz confront Ghost on his relationship with Soap.]

What, do they think he and Soap are sleeping side by side every night, comfortably tangled under the thin sheets? That he warms himself on his Sergeant’s eternal flame, that Johnny brushes his charred, calloused fingers over his arms, his shoulders, his neck, chasing away the cold, inky grasp Limbo always has on him? That Ghost reciprocates, that he holds Johnny’s face softly, bringing them closer and closer until-

[Reason to cut: out of character. Ghost doesn't think about affectionate actions, he jsut does them. Too early in the story for him to express such wants.]

[Context: I don't remember honestly. Entire scene was cut. Might be later in chapter 13, before Graves threatens Ghost.]

He catches Alejandro pacing around the base one day, frowning and arguing with Rudy in Spanish. From what Ghost can pick up, it’s something about an American. He’s pretty damn certain which one.

“Vargas, any issues?” he stops him before the man pops a blood vessel.

Alejandro glances at him, scanning their surroundings for eavesdropping ears. “Come with me.”

The three enter the Vaquero Commander’s office, Rudy locking it behind them, “it’s about Graves.” Alejandro starts pacing again, “fucking gringo is ordering his shadows to collect intel on us.”

“What?” that’s a huge fucking development.

Rudy is quick to correct him, “we can’t prove anything. But yes… Graves knows more than he should.”

“He knows about secret tunnels we have under the base, and weapon stashes that not even Price knows about. We got fucking Shepherd trying to get us to use locations for the mission he shouldn’t even know exist.”

Ghost feels the tension climb up his spine, “what the fuck do you think he’s playing at?”

Alejandro exhales loudly, “whatever it is, [I didn't finish the sentence]

[Reason to cut: Decided that Vaqueros wounldn't suspect Graves, and he wouldn't risk his powers found by using Shadows to spy on them. Didn't like where the scene was directing the story.]

[Context: chapter 19, when Ghost asks Gaz for help with showing emotions with Soap. Gaz asks why can't he now.]

Garrick nods thoughtfully, “and what is it that stops you? Fear?”

Ghost clenches his teeth, this conversation feels like pulling them out one by one, “I’m not afraid of him.”

“Wasn’t saying that sir”, Gaz thrums on his boot, “could be rejection, or… shit. Of course.” he stares at Ghost, eyes soft.

“The fuck’s it?” he glares back.

Gaz releases his powers, standing up in front of him, “you need to get over your fear of feeling.”

[Reason to cut: out of character. Wouldn't confront emotions head on. Unnatural for Gaz to just state that, rather have it implied. Not where I wanted Ghost's mentality to go.]

[Context: no idea. Probably after Ghost sent Soap to Limbo, and he gained an immunity to it.]

“We don’t have to be afraid, Simon. You can’t hurt me anymore.” Johnny whispers

[Reason to cut: don't remember.]

Tumblr is starting to lag, which means this post is huge lmao. Again, thank you to each and every one of you! The response to the fic was amazing, I never expected my little revenant AU to turn into something this big!

I loved the experience of writing Not Alive, Nor Dead. You can certainly expect more from me in the future!

For now, I have to focus on uni, and after that I have a few ideas for comics I wanna do. Might make a few oneshots in between, but no big projects like this one just yet!

[distinguished-rave-moth]

Pretty Blue Armour - Oneshot about my Tav and Astarion

astarion/F!named tav

summary: astarion has to deal with his love's dreadful sense in fashion

sfw, slice of life, kinda fluff?, more like middle aged bickering

"Lilith, please, there are hundreds of shops in the city and we have the gold for it" Astarion jogged lightly to keep up with his companion as they weaved through countless alleyways, stalls, and citizens. "we're not exactly in mortal peril right this moment, my love, why do you insist on wearing that"

After several hours of Astarion's wining, this was the phrase that made her stop dead in her tracks. Turning slightly, she cocked her head to the side, furrowed her brow, and stared. That one stare that could move mountains, cause earthquakes, the stare that almost convinced Astarion he'd crossed a line.

Almost.

He might've let the matter go weeks ago if his lover's current outfit wasn't so loud.

"We worked hard for it, I intend on wearing it." she stated matter-of-factly. "not that I recall any of you doing the damn work for it."

"well I recall our totally impassive leader making us traverse the entire damn grymforge because she wanted- oh what did you call it? 'pretty blue armour'" Astarion's arms were waving around wildly now "And then you made us fight some guardian thing in order to obtain said 'pretty blue armour'"

"well you had no complaints at the time." she smirked at him.

"I was trying not to die, dear, I was a bit pre-occupied"

"well it all worked out in the end didn't it. you didn't die and I get to wear pretty blue armour" Lilith smiled at him, swinging back around to continue their trek through the city

"Your boots are rusting, my dear. how long have you even had them" He gestured down at them and he was right, the once sleek metal was covered in flakey, orange and brown patches up to her mid calf. Any flex of her ankle made the boots screech and whine against itself.

Its like they're screaming. He thought

"Gods forbid you'll have to actually run anywhere, they'll shatter!"

Lilith didn't reply, a look of awkwardness settling onto her features.

"Lilith? How long have you had them." He repeated.

She covered her lips with her wrist. "sincethegoblincamp"

"what?"

"sincethegoblincamp" The hand that was covering her mouth moved to run though her hair, doing absolutely everything to avoid eye contact with Astarion.

"oh for goodness sake, my dear, I cant hear you, speak up"

"Since the goblin camp."

Lilith had turned to look at him fully, her lips pressed into an uncomfortably tight line, embarrassment and mild annoyance swimming in her eyes. Astarion was just looking at her, aghast, before breaking out into laughter.

"And you let them get that bad?!" He gestured to the boots again. Deciding that the rusted metal on rusted metal screech was definitely the boots crying for help.

"look they were the first magical item gale tried to get his hands on and he had really pissed me off that day so I decided to wear them to prove a point and I guess I just kind of forgot...." Lilith trailed off, realising that there was no excuse.

With that, Astarion grabbed Lilith's arm, still chuckling to himself.

"my love, we are getting you some new clothes." he put his finger on her lips to silence any protests. "id like to break into somewhere and not have to worry about them hearing your clothes"

[laugtherhyena]

I don't know what LINUJ was thinking when he chose to make Yoruko's upperclassman and Minako two separate characters but personally I don't really mind it? Mostly cause when I see background characters that don't officially appear beyond a few mentions, I go, "A character that barely has a skeleton of a personality that I can mold to my whims?! WOOO!!" and then proceed to squeeze them like a stress ball. I don't think about Amane (the upperclassman) a lot, especially in comparison to Kojiro, but I think it'd be fun to explore her character as I do have a project idea with her as part of the cast but it's kinda on the backburner of my brain cause I'm trying not to make too many projects at once cause I'm already struggling to juggle a bunch of other stuff at the same time. That being said, on the topic of Amane's pink hair, I actually think it's dyed?? Not sure cause I only just got passed the second bad end with my friend in Chapter 6 so we haven't seen the context of Yoruko's CG where she's in her fantasy, so take this with a grain of salt, but for some reason the wiki labels the CG as Yoruko talking to Minako??? And the woman shown has her hair having faded pink tips, revealing that her roots are actually brown. Ngl, the idea that Minako (still) dyes her hair to the color she has today is really funny but I think that's just the wiki editors messing up on whos who. Sometimes wikis aren't the most reliable source of information when you want to quickly review something without replaying the game and stuff, and I think it makes more sense that in Yoruko's fantasy, she'd be reunited with who she believes is her upperclassman, even if she cares about Minako. And if we take her appearance in the fantasy as truth from what little we can see of her, that means that both Amane and Yoruko dyed their hair for their hostess job (although Yoruko did it to mimic Amane specifically), lmao.

But yeah, I think the sequel cast having connections to the characters of the previous game is a really neat tie-in, even if it's not very strong and it's interesting to explore their connections with each other in fanon. My headcanon with Setsuka and Teruya being sibling figures to each other could be interesting since they actually reunite through their work, and probably spent a lot of time catching up and getting to know each other again. Which makes it hurt even more when Setsuka goes missing. Like, Teruya probably freaked out when he realized he hasn't heard from Setsuka in a long time and tried to push for an investigation to search for her which Kinjo put a stop to due to his own plans with Syobai. Poor guy was probably torn between disobeying orders to find Setsuka since he didn't want to lose another important person in his life or falling in line to Kinjo due to his loyalty to him. But if Kinjo were to suggest that she might've been kidnapped for the killing game, possibly to "fill in space," Teruya probably chose to fall in line since stopping Mikado's killing game would probably be the closest way to save Setsuka, even if he wanted to do more. And we all know how that worked out...

On a much lighter note, in a Non-Despair AU where Setsuka and Kojiro cross paths again after many years, I like to think that they reignite their friendship since I see Kojiro being more upset over Setsuka ghosting him (and Teruya) for years without an explanation than the fact that she cheated and got herself banned in billiards, which probably caused some controversy with his sponsorship for her. Hell, he probably thought she was dead or something with how long he didn't hear from her. That's kinda what happens when you go into hiding instead of confronting the consequences of your actions, Setsuka. But once they get pass the initial awkwardness, Setsuka and Kojiro becomes best buds again. They also become drinking buddies with Teruya (as an adult) chaperoning them, much to his (affectionate) annoyance.

It's crazy to me how he just made this random ass character instead of making Minako herself be the upperclassmen, like that would have led to a much stronger connection between Yoruko and the first killing game's class than Minako just so happening to be the boss at the bar her and Amane worked at.

Slight tangent here but, seriously, Amane Kaira? Two letters away from Akane Taira? I know Linuj has a track record of having characters with similar names in the another series, but this ridiculous. How were we seriously meant to believe this was a real person? Because for the longest time i just assumed that "Amane Kaira" was the fake ID Minako used when she worked at the bar with Yoruko since she mentioned both of them had it because they were minors back then.

As for the wiki, i believe it really is just flat out wrong when it says that's Yoruko talking to Minako (which generated this whole misconception) because those CGs were first uploaded there just a little after Ch6 came out so we didn't had everything properly translated back then and it just never got fixed + just from the little we see of this girl you can tell she's not meant to be Minako

In addition, the hair color of the girl in the Cg is a soft pink whereas Minako's is a pink closer to a purple-ish (violet-ish, whatever you wanna call it) tone + from both of her sprite galleries Minako's hair really doesn't seem to be dyed when you compare it to characters we know have dyed hair in the series (Emma has visible brown streaks in her blonde hair and Hajime's is really really light at the top for some reason)

And if this isn't enough, Linuj straight up adresses her as her own person in Yoruko's character sheet (translation by ToastCat333)

So yeah, Amane, the totally real person who is not Minako Tomori! As much as this stuff annoys me, I can't say I'm not a fan of picking minor characters and making up ocs out of them, I'm curious to see what you'll make up of this character.

[dnalt-d2]

NEW 3/4 BAKED QSMP THEORY, DO WITH IT WHAT YOU WILL

Right, so I tried cooking a theory, and I think I'm getting to the right track, but I'm worried I might've gotten some wires crossed. I'm gonna write what I have below, and if you agree or disagree with certain parts, please let me know. I'm a little limited in who I'm able to watch, so this might mean I just straight-up don't have all the information available. If anyone can fill in some holes, that'd be great. A lot of this is just me getting my thoughts in order in a place where other people can contribute.

(And note: This kinda relates to a Theory I already made not too long ago, so check that out real quick if you want to. TL;DR is that I think that alongside the Federation and the Resistance, that there's possibly some other Third Faction. Something that a lot of people seem to also be thinking at this point)

Now, this is all going to be really complicated, but remember how I said there were Three Factions before? The Federation, the Resistance, and some Third Unidentified Group? I think I might have some more ideas on this Third Group. I mostly have two, really. One is that this guy Cellbit was just talking to is a part of this Group. Not only that, but I think that there are some Codes working for them. (Remember how people have been talking about "Good" and "Bad" Codes?) CodeFlippa is likely one of the Codes working for them. This would explain why some of the Codes seem to be working against the members (Attacking Maximus is the main example I can think of, leading directly to his manipulation at the hands of Cucurucho regarding his new infection) While others seem to be working against the Federation and anyone on their side (The Codes attacking the Eggs multiple times, and Cellbit that one time)

Now the second thing I'm thinking is that they've been working from within the Federation, trying to work against them from the inside. This means that they only have the information that the Federation would have, which is why CodeFlippa doesn't seem to know where the eggs are. The Feds don't know, which means this Inside Group doesn't know either. This new guy that Cellbit was just talking to is almost certainly part of this Group. I don't think Walter Bob is, due to the fact that the new Mystery guy seemed surprised that Cellbit has the password for the Main Channel. However, I do ALSO think that Fred is working with them. Remember how it seemed to be Fred who led them to the maze in the first place? (Though that could've easily been some other blue-hat worker, I'll admit) But he also said in his report on Fit, that he could relate to him working for the Federation despite hating them. That means we have three possible people working for this Third Group, as well as possible some Codes.

But what does this mean for the Eggs? Well, I seem to recall that Etoiles said that the picture with Leo might've looked like the Resistance Base he found once. So here's my theory regarding that.

(This last part is the one with the most holes in it, so if anyone has any thoughts regarding it, please reblog or comment. I feel like I'm getting close, but I might have some things backwards. I'll put more details about that at the end though, so if you don't agree with my thory so far, please check that out)

I think the Resistance are the ones responsible for the Eggs disappearance. We've heard that the Eggs ran away on their own, which could possible be true (Though I don't know how Cucurucho would know that. For all we know he was lying, but possibly not? Idk) I think that maybe the Resistance knows how important these eggs are to keeping the islanders in line, and seeing an opportunity to throw things into chaos, decided to take the eggs, either trying to save them from this Big Evil that they're worried about, or simply wanting to screw over the Feds. Either way, they have the kids. But where are they? Well, I still think that the other dimension theory is true. But I also think that the Resistance are IN this other dimension. This all relies on the rest of my theory being true, and that brings in something that might be a problem for me.

I think I started to get some things backwards, and I'm worried that if I keep going, I'll run into some confirmation bias. I realized as I was writing this that some of the stuff I was thinking didn't make a whole lot of sense. Mainly that if the Codes are working for the Third Group and NOT the Resistance, why would the Code lead Etoiles to a Resistance Base? I could just say that "Oh well the Third Group wants strong people to be against the Federation!" But like I said, that would just feel like confirmation bias, like I'm trying to fit everything into a conclusion I've already come to. So unfortunately, I don't know if much or any of my theory is true, but I'm gonna put it here anyway, mostly because I wanna see if anyone else can make sense of this all based on the information I put together here.

Here are the facts we have

--There are at least two Groups: The Federation and the Resistance, but possible a Third Unidentified Group, working from within the Federation

--Fred and CodeFlippa respectively led people to the maze, then guided them the maze to the dice room, which means they could know something about the maze and tickets/where they lead

--According to Cucurucho, the Eggs left because of some Big Bad Threat we don't know about

--The Eggs are most likely in some other dimension

--CodeFlippa is CLAIMING not to know where the eggs are, or about going through the maze

--Etoiles was led to the Resistance Base by information given to him by the Code

--CUCUREVIL/CUCUROJO IS STILL A THING AND DEFINITELY INVOLVED WITH THE MAZE

--This new guy claims to be the one who started Cellbit on that huge manhunt enigma a while back that led to the sword, but look how that ended up

And the final, most important fact

--My mind is an absolute mess of details and anticipation for tomorrow's event, where this will all likely be proven true or false, but regardless, will probably destroy people emotionally, including and ESPECIALLY me.

GOOD LUCK TO US ALL I GUESS I'M CUTTING MY LOSSES AND POSTING THIS, I WILL PROBABLY FIGURE SOMETHING OUT IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS, BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THE UNIVERSE LIKES TO BE. GOOD LUCK EVERYONE ELSE

[hallothere]

35 for faramir 1 + a friend?

oh ho ho (this did get kinda dark-wth-a-happy-ending tho)

"You deserve better than this. You deserve better."

"I do, do I? And you know so much about me and what I deserve?"

The stranger pushed his words away. He swatted them like flies, looked confused, and then made the motion again. "I am not... all myself. My thoughts are muddled, yes, but I know this much. You need not share my fate. I earned--"

He rolled again as if to be sick, but neither of them had eaten recently. Dagoras held on. The stranger shook, clutching alternately between his head, his throat, his chest, his stomach- there seemed to be too many sources of pain for him to cope with at once.

"It will be vile torment," he spoke again, "and I can do nothing to stop it. I will-" the words didn't want to come, "-have to watch you die. You who have shown me nothing but kindness."

Dagoras almost chuckled. Such a pronouncement might've been avoided in order to bolster his spirits. But the man before him was so consumed in misery that he couldn't manage at manners. He was sick or hurt or both, and deeply. Sick at heart perhaps, and in such a state of dread that he could not stand.

Dagoras had expected to find missing scouts in this hidden vale, not prisoners. And he had not expected to become a prisoner himself. But, he had not come alone, and his companions had not come unwary.

Finally, the man opened his eyes. The hollow, desperate look took him aback. It reminded him of a man starved, of a corpse's misery.

"I will beg." The stranger said. "I will throw myself at his mercy. Then, you will have to run, for he will not heed me. He will let me try for as long as I can before killing you. So you must make good your escape." He reached within the bundle of spare linens that made up his clothes.

"Take this." It was a piece of metal, a sliver no longer than his hand. "I would rather it serve you."

Take it he did, though Dagoras did it more to ease the poor man's nerves than anything else. Their situation didn't seem so dire as all that, though the stranger sounded like he knew a lot more about this place than he.

"Who is it that you're so afraid of?" Dagoras asked. "It's better if I know the man I'll have to kill to free us."

The stranger started to shake. "Please. Please run instead. I have seen too many." He gripped Dagoras' arm and fought down another heave. "I will not survive much more. Run and save yourself. Burudagath-"

"Burudagath?" Dagoras interrupted. At least his suspicions that the man was Gondorian were confirmed. "I know that name. He was killed before his own altar, slain by the shades of wainriders. Under the very banner of Ondoher he defiled. Many men and artifacts of Gondor were saved, and will be restored." His voice softened in sympathy. "Were you his prisoner there?"

Now the man was trembling in earnest. He looked as if he might shake apart, like a stack of wine glasses in the back of a cart.

"I have a friend in the vale." Dagoras tried a different tack. "And my 'cousins' in the White Company. They know I've been gone. I've been rescued from worse traps than this. They will come for us. And Mithrandir! He's in the area too. Burudagath is gone, and our allies will see this evil undone."

At some point the trembling man had stilled, though he stared at the floor instead of at Dagoras. His eyes flicked back and forth across the ground, then at his hands. It wasn't clear if he was listening, or if he was back in the muddled state Dagoras had met him in.

"Where are you from?" He tried again. "I have only seen some of Gondor- and that briefly- so I would be glad to accompany you to your home."

At first, the man's reply was so soft Dagoras couldn't hear it. "I'm sorry, these old ears aren't quite as sharp as they used to-"

"Minas Anor."

The answer and the voice were much clearer. He blinked. There was only one Minas Anor he knew, and that was in the record halls.

"I swore to perform my duty to Gondor in the walls of Minas Anor." The man sounded distant, but sturdier. "I fell under the spear of the wainrider chieftain, and languished on the plain of Dagorlad." He turned to Dagoras with a haunted, but more lifelike look in his eyes. "I fought and charged the hill of my father's final stand. I came before the bloodletter... before the bloodletter undaunted and then--"

He looked around as if seeing their surroundings for the first time. Now it was Dagoras' turn to feel the apprehension rise.

"By the cradle of Morloth..." he said, and a shiver ran down Dagoras' spine.

[cemetery14]

me comparing akashi to billie songs : )

the time has come for me to rant about why almost all of my akashi playlist is billie eilish, sometimes im bad at wording my thoughts and i just wanna go "yknow that one billie eilish lyric? yeah thats him"

idk why i just really relate music to whatever in into at the moment, like obsessively

a couple are just gonna be vibe based but some will also be very detailed 0_0 im just gonna go in order of my playlist

i dont need to explain myself on this one but,,, he literally had a "nah im gonna be the bad guy" moment

"I had a dream I got everything I wanted Not what you'd think And if I'm being honest"

akashi winning everything and being perfect at everything and realizing that it brings him no joy

"It might've been a nightmare To anyone who might care"

"Nobody even noticed I saw them standing right there Kinda thought they might care"

'kinda thought they might care' this song really makes me think of akashi in teiko and realizing that none of the miracles care about him the way he cares about them, and none of them tried to help him if anything they made it worse

"I tried to scream But my head was underwater They called me weak Like I'm not just somebody's daughter"

"And it feels like yesterday was a year ago But I don't wanna let anybody know 'Cause everybody wants something from me now And I don't wanna let 'em down"

"If I knew it all then would I do it again? Would I do it again? If they knew what they said would go straight to my head What would they say instead?"

i love that last line for him 'would i do it again' 'what would they say instead' if only they knew how fragile akashi was would they have treated him differently? would akashi have wanted them to treat him differently?

"I used to float, now I just fall down I used to know but I'm not sure now What I was made for"

"Looked so alive, turns out I'm not real Just something you paid for What was I made for?"

akashi struggling with his own identify after being used by other his whole life

"I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday, I might"

"When did it end? All the enjoyment I'm sad again, don't tell my boyfriend"

akashi going from loving basketball to just seeing it as another thing he needs to win at

"Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be Something I wait for Something I'm made for"

this song makes me think of akashi and mayuzumi :>

"I'm getting older, I think I'm aging well I wish someone had told me I'd be doing this by myself There's reasons that I'm thankful, there's a lot I'm grateful for But it's different when a stranger's always waiting at your door Which is ironic 'cause the strangers seem to want me more Than anyone before"

i bet akashi has a hard time making friendships with people his age, or just friendships in general

he deals alot with people older than him, like teachers and im sure his dad already had his talking with business partners and such

"Can't shake the feeling that I'm just bad at healing And maybe that's the reason every sentence sounds rehearsed Which is ironic because when I wasn't honest, I was still being ignored (Lying for attention just to get neglection) Now we're estranged"

neglect neglect neglect akashi is a victim of neglect, GIVE HIM ATTENTION OR HES GONNA ACT OUT

"Things I once enjoyed (ah-ah) Just keep me employed now Things I'm longing for Someday, I'll be bored of"

akashis love for basketball being twisted into just another thing hes expected to win

"I'm getting older, I've got more on my shoulders But I'm getting better at admitting when I'm wrong I'm happier than ever, at least that's my endeavor To keep myself together and prioritize my pleasure 'Cause to be honest, I just wish that what I promise Would depend on what I'm given (not on his permission) (Wasn't my decision) to be abused, mmm"

'im happier than ever at least thats my endeavor to keep myself together and prioritize my pleasure'

THIS LINE AAAAAAAAA this is how i would describe akashis character post birthday over, i just think it perfectly encapsulates him and how hes doing

"They're gonna tell you what you wanna hear Then they're gonna disappear Gonna claim you like a souvenir Just to sell you in a year"

akashi being taken advantage of

"I'm overheated, can't be defeated Can't be deleted, can't un-believe it I'm overheated, can't be defeated Can't be deleted, can't be repeated I'm overheated"

kinda vibes based but it makes me think of akashi and how he constantly has to be ON for interviews or just interacting with people he knows since hes extremely popular and how overwhelming it must get

"Did you think I'd show up in a limousine? (No) Had to save my money for security Got a stalker walkin' up and down the street Says he's Satan and he'd like to meet I bought a secret house when I was seventeen (Ha) Haven't had a party since I got the keys Had a pretty boy over, but he couldn't stay On his way out, made him sign an NDA, mm"

"You couldn't save me, but you can't let me go, oh, no I can crave you, but you don't need to know, oh-oh"

"At least I gave him somethin' he can cry about I thought about my future, but I want it now, oh-oh-oh Want it now, mm-mm-mm You can't give me up"

"Did I take it too far? Now I know what you are You hit me so hard I saw stars Think I took it too far When I sold you my heart How'd it get so dark? I saw stars Stars"

vibes based but like, heavy vibes

being rich and popular at such young age like EVERYONE knows akashi, having rapid success at such a younge age must be crazy

i also have I Didnt Change My Number, Therefore I Am, and You Should See Me In A Crown but those are mostly vibes based

i love you should see me in a crown for akashi, pretty boy on a power trip <3

[swagging-back-to]

massive update on the ladies!!!!

not anything super major but just how long it will be lol

ok so i got them a grapewood vine! they're kinda whatever about it. they don't climb it at all which is disappointing but they nibble on it. also ordered a birch tunnel (not the super skinny ones you can find everywhere, this one is more wide and short with two holes) which will be one of the very last 'landscaping' items i buy for the girlies! i feel happy enough to stop here :)

the company i bought it from (happyhamstery, good store) also included some free goodies! they got a cork mat, a little basket from this weird plastic material (i haven't put that in the cage yet bc i know my girls will chew it), and a flower lollipop.

the lollipop smelled soooo good but my girls don't like flowers tbh and even if tey did it was mostly hay and mice don't eat hay. so they just pissed on it.

my housemate keeps shutting the heat off in 38*f weather so i bought the girlies a heat pad ima put under their tank. also got a convection heater for the room.

but i changed up their layout and added a deep bedding section. their tunnels are crazy ngl even tho its just a small little section. im actually super happy with their layout rn and tomorrow im going to start recording videos about them. Im coming for your brand emiology >:)

but no i also got them some new treats---dried banana chips! i haven't given them banana before but i heard its a smash hit for a lot of mice and i need to give them something less fatty then a pepita.

------

ok so onto the girlies!!!!! individual breakdowns <3

jasmine has glowed up so much, im so happy for her. she honestly isn't cuddling with the others most of the time but i can just see in her face that shes happier back in the colony. her weight is more stable too and she isn't just skin and bones from starving herself. Shes even warmed up to me a lot, will come into my hand willingly and when i give her antibiotics she doesn't bite at all anymore. I used to have to have five layers of gloves bc of how hard she bit. and it would take at least an hour to give her meds. now its like 2 mins.

pepper has also grown so much im so proud of her. she doesn't immediately run when she sees me anymore and she doesn't flee when i approach er with my hand. she outright expects me to give her a pepita now. Shes one of the few girls i know for a fact does not have the obesity gene, the only other ones being jasmine and poppy. THATS IT. all my girls at 50g<

peanut has finally stopped tilting her head! she had a bad head tilt for a while and i tried treating it with antibiotics but it only got slightly better. im glad it went away on its own. shes still really sweet and one of the my few mice who will bang at the glass to try to get to me.

poppy used to be my absolute heart mouse, she would wake up and just pace the tank for my attention and jump at the glass when i walked over. shes kinda backed off lately and its sad. shes still a lil girl tho.

dhal is doing a little better. her feet arent SO swollen (i think it might've been a wheat or aspen allergy?) and her coat looks a little better. even her ibs is a bit better. for a while she was looking real rough tho. im still giving her antibiotics for her raspiness i heard a while back.

split pea is another who was chattering a while back and is just generally acting sick.

ginger's eye seems to be doing a little better but im worried about this weird fatty lump o the back of her shoulders. it doesn't look like a tumor but im worried its an abscess from bites she got and I've been treating with antibiotics. shes soooo sweet tho shes such a babyyyyyy shes one of the only mice i actually dream about

clove is a bit worrying i wont lie. i thought i caught her having a relapse in seizures earlier but she was just dreaming. shes just really big. 90g. her fur is kinda patchy and her skins all red from how hot she is all the time. I've tried everything to get her to lose weight. the lowest i got her to was 84g two weeks ago but she shot back up again. it's hard to know if its heart related, and i cant know if she has a tumor bc shes just too big </3 i hope shes with me for a long time tho bc shes such a baby

mochi and sushi are both doing fine, they're my most skittish girls now and its because i never had a true bonding period when i first got them. sushi's tumor hasn't grown afaik.

peaches is also doing okay, she just vibes honestly.

[mrrosedoodler]

Howdy Everybody

It's been awhile. I apologize for my massive absence from Tumblr, Twitch, Youtube and socials in general. So much has happened since my last stream that I need to get everybody caught up to speed.

There's massive changes coming as well, and unfortunately, streams and videos are getting the biggest out of all of them. I'll talk about Twitch and Youtube in their own separate posts here, but for now I want to focus on my absence and why it took me so long to come back.

Here's the TL;DR at the start here:

I had to go to the hospital in April because I was showing symptoms of a stroke.

Thankfully, it wasn't a stroke, but I was kept so the doctors could figure out what might've happened to cause those symptoms.

The neurologist said that the symptoms I showed could've been the result of the stress I was under, the aftermath of the COVID strain I caught back in February amplifying my anxiety, autistic burnout/shutdown, or a mixture of those three.

Since then, I've gotten proper meds to deal with my anxiety, gotten therapy, changed up my diet, and have found my true calling in career terms.

Here's the full explanation (Under Read More):

In summary, this kinda started at the beginning of the year. First, a close family member of mine had a medical emergency in January. Then, in February, I caught COVID and was basically knocked out for two months. In March I tried to bounce back, but was still exhausted and sick.

Now we get to the real meat and potatoes. April. April is where things just hit the fan. I had an unbelievable amount of stress on me at the time. I won't go into too much detail since I don't want to trauma dump on here, but to put things into perspective; I was getting stress headaches incredibly often and was sick about 75% of the time I woke up.

Aaand now we're at the thing that caused me to fully stop. The hospital visit. I had to have a family member run me to the ER because my face drooped and I was out of it, and we thought that I was having a stroke. Got there, got through testing, and it turned out I was clear of anything that should have caused that. No palsy, no stroke, and nothing wrong with my brain that would have caused that.

Came to find out from the neurologist that upon reviewing my test results throughout the past few days, there were three things that might have happened to cause this.

The stress, of course. The doctor said that sometimes the body might react in the way it did when put under large amounts of stress.

COVID. Apparently they've found that COVID can get into your brain, and it tends to amplify mental health symptoms. And wouldn't you know it, my anxiety had been beginning to ramp up over time ever since I caught that newer strain in February. Not even knowing CBT and proper coping mechanisms could help me stop it on my own after that.

Autistic Burnout/Shutdown. The neurologist said that this could have also been the issue, considering I'm autistic. Which, in all honesty, made complete sense to me.

We also reviewed my diet and what could have been contributing to my stress there, what might have gotten my brain overloaded to such a degree, and where to go from there.

As of right now, I've gotten my emergency medication for my anxiety and I've been working to better my diet and mental health. I've also been trying to cut back on stress, rework myself, and find a proper job to have while I'm working on writing things out for some original projects of mine.

I've since found that any job that tends to associate with customer service, high amounts of stress, and people pleasing of any kind seems to not exactly be my speed. I've noticed I kinda tend to overdo it to the point of disregarding my own health and safety in order to ensure the people are content. . . Which is a yikes. Thus, I've been trying to see if I can get a job at the local libraries around me instead while I write things.

But yeah, that's the gist of it. I'd like to apologize for all of this, as I've been gone far longer than I had hoped to have been while trying to figure all of this out. Thankfully, now that I'm back, we can redirect and rebuild here!

Stay tuned for more updates on the state of my Twitch and Youtube; I'll be posting updates on those soon.

For now, make sure you guys are taking time to self-care! Eat, drink, and sleep properly, friendos! And don't worry, from now on, I'll also be taking that advice.

[scribblestatic]

I haven't talked about my sick Sonic AU in a bit.

I don't really have a set story in mind for it, not quite. Like, I kinda do, but kinda don't. Mostly just Sonic trying to enjoy his life as much as possible, for as long as he'll last. All the while, despite his disability, events eventually occur that show him to be a glass cannon.

So, I thought about Robotnik directing Maxim (Metal Sonic) to check out Angel Island cause there's a mystical energy there he wants to use. And since Sonic's currently got a few spoons on hand, he wants to go, too. It takes a lot of convincing and melodramatics, but eventually, Robotnik agrees to let him go to Angel Island as well, but he has to follow all of Maxim's orders.

So they touch down on Angel Island in a small ship, with Sonic excitedly following Maxim out of it. Though, he stops when the bot swiftly turns around, giving his orders.

"Listen. You will stay around here. I will be back."

"Ehh, but it's not much ov'a field trip if I'm just stuck standin' in one place."

"You promised the Doctor to listen. Now, you need to listen. Or I'll take you right back."

"Ugh, fine, Mum."

But he does honestly listen to the perimeter he's told he can at least slightly explore around. However, if someone approaches, he needs to retreat into the ship, especially if they could be dangerous.

So Sonic's chillin' near the ship. A few wandering Chao come over, and since he works with them back at home base, his friendly demeanor almost immediately gains their trust. It helps that they aren't all dark Chao, that's for sure.

"Is this where you guys come from? I mean, the kiddos back home seem to like the base, though."

But then, he starts hearing explosions and fighting, and, being worried about Maxim, he decides to race after him after all. He sets the little Chao down and runs after the noises--faster than most, but slower than top speed.

Sure enough, he eventually finds Maxim duking it out with some echidna guy, and, unlike what Sonic's used to, it looks like Maxim's being driven into a corner. The guy is seriously strong, throwing rocks and meeting fist-to-fist with metal without a problem.

The guy uppercut's Maxim, and his face screen briefly glitches, just as his other fist heads right toward his face, fist spikes aimed at him.

"WAIT!!!"

Sonic runs between them, his arms out and waving.

He shuts his eyes right as the fist stops in front of his face... Then cautiously peeks them open as the slightly bruised-up stranger grumbles at him.

"Who the heck are you? You with him?"

"Uhh, if I said I was, then..."

"S-on--ic--" Maxim's voice glitches, his voice box recalibrating.

"I mean, sure. I am. But! Not punching me would be great!" he wheezes, holding his hands up placatingly as the echidna stomps closer to him. He's just an inch or three taller than Sonic, and definitely stockier. But not so tall that Sonic has to look up too much, so they're mostly eye-to-eye.

"Get off. My island," he growls.

"Easy, easy...uh... Name please?"

The guy stares at him for a moment before answering, eyes narrowing.

"Knuckles."

"Knuckles." Sonic looks at his knuckles, spikes and claws standing out through the wraps around his hands. "...Makes sense. Uh, like you might've heard, I'm Sonic. That's my bro, Maxim. And, uh, we're really just here on a tour--"

"You're after the Master Emerald," he interrupts, standing taller. "And it's my sworn duty to stop it from falling into the wrong hands."

"Master Em...errr...nah. Not really what we're looking for. I'm guessing that's the big glowy green diamond-looking thing? Yeah, nah, not on our radar."

"Then how do you know what it looks like, thief?"

Sonic blinks slowly, then he puts his fists on his hips, frowning.

"Hey, we haven't stolen a daggom thing. Ain't it rude to accuse someone of something they haven't done? What are you, a cop?"

"Sonic, get back--" Maxim tries to say, standing up.

"No, no. You let me handle this." Sonic doesn't even turn around, staring up at the echidna. "Look, we're here looking for an emerald, but it's not your master whatever. From what I saw, the thing's way too big for what the Doc wants to do. We're actually looking for a thing called a Chaos Emerald. Unless that's somehow illegal for ya?"

Knuckles squints. "...It's not something I can completely--"

"Right, too many than the master, right? So, it's fair game?"

"It shouldn't be used for evil--"

"And who's to say we're evil, huh? Who died and made you judge, jury, and executioner? Did you even try to talk it out with Maxim to see what's up?"

"Why should I listen to a bunch of invaders on my land?"

"...Touché. But hey, we're not after the Master Emerald, and sure, we're 'trespassing', but only to look for something you're not tasked with guarding. So, as long as your Master Emerald's safe and sound, it should be fine, right?"

Knuckles seems to consider this, glaring between Sonic and the now recovered robot behind him.

"How do I know you won't try to blindside me? How many others of you are there?"

"For now, just us. And I get it...you want some leverage, right? Well, I can't go very far--"

"Sonic, don't."

Sonic turns around, knowing Maxim has an idea of what he's going to say. He shrugs, confused.

"What's the fuss? You want me to stay in one place, right? Well, if I play hostage with this guy, then you don't have to worry about me moving around much."

"You don't know what he could do to you," Maxim's mechanical voice growls. "Don't make such a ridiculous decision."

"Eh, you're right. But for some reason, this guy doesn't seem like the kind to try to hurt someone without a purpose, y'know?" Sonic gives Knuckles a lazy grin. "So, you can let him babysit me while you look for the emerald so I'm outta your bolts and he's back to work, right? Win-win-win."

"...How is this a win for you, exactly?"

"I've never been a hostage before. Fun new experience."

Maxim rolls his eyes as much as a robot can before smacking a hand to his face.

Sonic wiggles his eyebrows at Knuckles, who just cringes with irritation and glares at him.

---

"That was a dumb decision."

Near the Master Emerald's place with Knuckles, the guardian stands firm with his arms crossed. Meanwhile, Sonic's crouched near him, a few wild Chao playing around with him as he takes pictures with a specialized Egg-phone. He can look at the pictures in greater detail on his tablet once he's back home.

"Huh?"

Knuckles stares down at him. "Putting yourself into a vulnerable position. That was dumb."

"Eh, it got you to make a deal with us though, right? So, not dumb, just pragmatic," Sonic shrugs.

Knuckles was starting to understand why the robot grumbled about his hedgehog companion so much. The easy-going, almost lazy nature of the stranger was off-putting to someone like him. He'd called himself a 'hostage,' but he didn't seem intimidated at all. Moreover, if Knuckles hadn't pulled his punch back then...

Looking at the hedgehog in better lighting, it was clear something wasn't right with his health. He looked a tad on the sallow side, with stress lines pulling at his under eyelids. The hedgehog also moved rather sluggishly at times, though he was clearly wearing running boots and compression socks. In fact, he'd gotten to where he and the bot were quite quickly despite the distance from the ship and their place of combat.

He seemed a bit juxtaposed against himself, of all things.

"...A warrior shouldn't willingly give themselves up for anything."

"One, not a warrior, just a dude," Sonic says, looking up as he takes a picture of some floating structures around the island. "And two, sure they do. Warriors sacrifice themselves for what they think is the greater good all the time. I mean, look at you."

"What about me."

"How long have you been up here?"

"That's of no concern to you," Knuckles grumbles.

"But it's been a while, right? I mean, you didn't know what a phone was and thought I was gonna do something with it."

He had, actually, almost smashed his phone, thinking it a weapon. But after showing Knuckles the pictures on it, he realized it wasn't for combat and left him be to snap away.

"And?"

"Aaaand, that means you've likely not been off this place for years, especially if you didn't know what a phone was. So, you've willingly given up your ability to learn about the world for the ability to guard your Master Emerald. Isn't that a sacrifice?"

"It's not one taken in the midst of battle. One giving my enemy an advantage."

"But you're not an enemy."

"I was beating up your robot."

"He's not mine. He's basically my big bro. And beating up on him cause neither of you knuckleheads know how to have a conversation doesn't automatically make you an enemy," Sonic snickers. "Just a guy who thinks fist-first. So, I figured, it's not so bad making you feel more comfortable. 'Specially if all I have to do is be my fantastic self and lounge around in this cool place."

Knuckles stares at the hedgehog, who was now laying on his back as he takes photos of the sky. The Chao, curious and comfortable, climb on him. One even naps on his stomach.

The Chao are comfortable around him, too, sometimes relying on him for little things. But he's never seen them interact with others quite the same way, not until now. Especially not to sleep on someone who is otherwise a complete stranger.

...Knuckles learned some of his past from reading the inscriptions on the inside of the temple ruins. Some had been written after the incident that eventually led to the ruin of his clan, leaving him as the final clansman on the island, raised by the energy of the Master Emerald and the knowledge of creatures much older than himself that have since gone into slumber in places he could not reach for now. He knew how the Chao would only gravitate toward those they felt they could trust.

Sonic pockets his phone and lays his hand on the sleeping Chao's head, rubbing it. The little one coos, stretching before going slack again, a little bit of drool running from the corner of its mouth.

"...Hmmh."

[vamprnce]

BRO tell me abt yr saints row ocs. all of them. literally anything. tell me what yr ACHING to tell. I wanna hear it 👀👀👀👀

aaa Jake okok!!! 😭💕 I dont have too many tbh, they're more from Chris' backstory, like friendships/relationships/family etc and not like in the saints gang hngnfbc sorry if this gets long LMAO

okay well ofc there's his parents and baby brother :')

Victoria Ramos Florez is his mom and she spent her time in college when Chris was 11 to become a nurse, since sr1-2 she's work at Stilwater's memorial hospital, during post sr2 she goes on to be a doctor!

Rafael "Ace" Alvarez Rivera is his dad, him and Vicky basically knew each other since high school and had an on and off relationship. they were planning to get married at one point, but then they had Chris when Vicky was 20 and Miguel 2 years after. Their relationship kinda got rocky and just basically they ended up as friends, but they didn't want to ruin the relationship in front of the kids so Ace stayed around to be a father to his two boys. Also his career is basically professional poker, hence the nickname, and he's been playing at the Poseidon since post sr1 into 2! before that he just did odd jobs around town

Miguel Alvarez Ramos is Chris' baby brother and Chris would die for him, he loves him so much even through their relationship is rocky since Chris left home when he was 17. Miguel went through college as well, tho I haven't figured out fully what that is atm, I did wanted him to do something with flowers and plants tho. in sr2 he met his now wife Isabella De Luna, then had two daughters Delores (oldest) and Cecilia (youngest) :')) they end up moving from Stilwater to Steelport in 3, too, and that's when Miguel and Chris reunites again

none of his family "dies" bc of sr4 tho, I couldn't do that to them I love his family

Cortez and Miranda Nieves are Chris' (and Miguel's) childhood friends from the Row, at age 17 leaving home after fighting with his mom, he goes to live with them. The three of them plus Sierra were in a tiny gang called black devil's, they're main goal was with distributing/selling drugs which was hard when LC was big in the market. not to spoil the whole backstory (I might write it out sometime) but basically Cortez was leaning hard to work with LC's, which later makes the relationship rocky with him, Chris and the rest of them. Cortez ends up a rival to Chris in sr1, Miranda ended up moving to Chicago a year before 1 started

I made a few posts abt Lee but he's Chris' first boyfriend. I dont have a full background for him/them yet but he's a LC member that's not really high in the ranks, he's Cortez's best friend and is a good resource with info with products/gang info. On the side he usually does underground fighting that isn't affiliated with the gang itself but usually Lee's crew is hanging around there anyways. Lee and Chris mainly met thru Cortez, he tagged along as Cortez was getting better info from Lee. Chris peaked his interest seeing him with him and asked him to join the fighting club, wanting see how "big" he really is. Chris did accept that challenge seeing how he was teasing him, long story short he kicked LC members asses after that. Lee was impressed and would be lying if he didn't have slight feelings for him. Again, Cortez had Chris tag along to go to a party with LC members there to meet up with Lee again weeks after, during the party is where both of them started to get to know each other more and really show they're feelings. awhile after is when they started dating officially! the timeline isn't clear yet and I'm still working on it so I'm missing details atm, so it's a fast summary how they met and got together plus Chris really hated Lee when they first met, mostly not liking the teasing and just out right distrustful with the gang

There's not a lot of characters but these are the main ones I usually focus more on with Chris' life, I'm pretty sure that's all abt them I have for them but idm other asks :') TYSM again for asking, my thoughts are scrambled but I hope this is good enough/comprehensive sjshdafhfg

[phoenixyfriend]

So the other day, @atagotiak and I were discussing Mandalorian child-rearing. She'd brought up how Mandalorians as a whole display a massive tendency towards cycles of violence/trauma, how that trauma and abuse is displayed across generations, and how it works its way into Satine's rearing of Korkie and her manner of handling policy in Mandalorian space.

(Warning: child abuse/neglect in spades, discussion of war trauma, discussion of environmental trauma, references to current events, namely covid-19 and US school shootings)

(I'll indent Tia's things.)

Vau's father beat him growing up, Vau became a Mandalorian as an adult. He believed that one had to know true pain in order to withstand it. He sparred with a clone once, and the clone ended up in a bacta tank for a month. He set what was essentially a space!dog on another clone. Falin Mattran, at 6 years old, was verbally abused and had food withheld and worked to exhaustion until he became exactly who Munin Skirata wanted him to be. Later, Kal's wife left him for bringing 8 year olds into battle. Jaster Merreel brought a 7-8 year old into battle, and Jango had to face his parents' killer. Had to kill his parents' killer. Later, when Jango was only 14 years old, his new father died too. Jango brought a, what, ten year old? On missions? When Boba was being held hostage Jango refused to react, making Boba kill the person himself. Maybe maybe it was a better tactical decision in that moment, the option that gave Boba a better chance but. I don't know. And he died when Boba was twelve.

So many people caught in cycles like this.

But then was complete avoidance the better path? Korkie got a better childhood but then how prepared was he when Mandalore descended into civil war once more? He seemed shockingly naive in the episodes that focused on him. After the empire collapsed Bo believed herself the last of her family. And it's unclear if she was right

And at this point, we know how I get about Satine. So. Let's dive in?

The Korkie example is an interesting one to approach, because when we're fair, it's really hard to blame people for not seeing Sidious's bullshit coming, on account of how nobody does (and Satine isn't exactly interacting with Palpatine as often as the Jedi are).

Korkie is, what, sixteen when we see him? Sixteen is a normal age to be stupidly naive about things. I sure was.

And also, of course, while he might've had a better chance with a harsher upbringing who even knows if he would've survived. It's not like warriors had a good survival rate either I think my emotions can be summed up as "I would punch Kal Skirata in the face but also I really want to hug Falin Mattran" The other fun thing is I’m pretty sure Jaster, Jango, Kal and proooobably Munin and Vau thought they were doing what was best for their kids.

Also "Sure the Jedi have intergenerational trauma but if you really want to sink your teeth into something..." The Satine bits also fit under there. I do kinda wonder what it was like growing up for Korkie. In that she certainly tried her best to not fall into patterns of those before her, but hmmm. Growing up with a traumatized parent has interesting affects on you, no matter how good they are. Like, traumatized people can raise kids well but there's still things that happen.

I think Satine was probably very much trying and was like... she was making that effort to be better and to not let it affect them both, but even if we go with Legends canon that the New Mandos have been around as a movement for 800 years, she spent a significant amount of time on the run, being literally hunted.

So even if most of the New Mandalorians don't have longform trauma (c-ptsd, complex ptsd: trauma formed over a period of time where the behaviors and triggers are a learned survival skill that no longer applies, as opposed to a singular incident that has long-term effects), Satine herself does, and while therapy might have helped, the whole "she had to rebuild her entire government alone" can't have given her the time or safety to really have it apply in full.

Yeah. And even for smaller traumas. I wonder what effects that would have. My dad grew up poor and he kinda sorta hoards food. This doesn’t harm anyone, but it’s a thing and it’s there. Like. There’s pretty much always at least three months worth in the pantry. Even as someone who never has to make her own meals again, I wonder if she does that

I can imagine Satine being almost frantic in making sure Korkie takes both deescalation courses and self-defense classes as seriously as possible, because she wants to make sure he never has to resort to violence, but if anyone ever tries to hunt him like they did her--

Realistically, Korkie develops a certain degree of paranoia regarding "even if Death Watch is gone, people may try to kidnap you for a ransom or something" because Satine is that degree of worried about him and what could happen to him, and she builds that into her attempts to make sure he wasn't at risk of being hurt. Given that Death Watch was not actually gone, this was actually sensible of her, but I can easily see a kind of paranoid anxiety manifesting in Korkie about these things.

That conversation petered out a few days ago, but I kicked it back open today because wow do I have feelings after writing that rant in Buir Shaak, and specifically about this:

While Satine's c-ptsd definitely influenced her policies, her traumas are actually very common for her culture.

The New Mandalorians have definitely been around for centuries, in Legends. So surely there are some that have successfully managed to avoid most battle/violence, but definitely not all of them, right?

You could make an argument that growing up in the shadows of destruction like the deserts of Mandalore--which aren't NATURAL, but caused by large-scale bombing centuries ago that the planet never recovered from--is it's own form of environmental trauma.

There's that paranoia regarding the remaining warriors, which lasts at least up until Satine takes over fully and has them all either demilitarize or move to Concordia.

So even if we say that idk 30% of New Mandalorians actually lived through wars and were directly affected by Death Watch or other factions (especially if Concordia is representative of more recent widespread destruction), the remaining 70% probably grew up knowing that there was a risk of battle coming to them, and that causes its own kind of stress and PTSD, even if it never happens.

You end up with a culture where enough people, including the leader, have direct and intense trauma relating to war, that "her traumas influenced her policies" may need to be viewed in the direct light of "this is everyone's trauma, not just hers."

Even with the people who’ve avoided the most of it. You know a lot of the psychological effects of being raised by traumatized people. It’s different but not to be underestimated, as a motivation

I'm trying not to say "imagine the long-term policy effects that people who went to high school 2020-2022 will have once they're old enough to run for office" but that's where my mind is at.

Because covid-19 is a large-scale cultural trauma that directly, fatally impacts basically everyone (if to differing degrees because of wealth disparity etc) and that's going to have the biggest effects psychologically on people twenty and under, especially those old enough to understand what's going on but helpless to truly impact how it's handled... and that's pretty much the age Satine was at when her biggest interactions with Death Watch and related bullshit was.

Oh I thought you were getting school-shooting political, not plague political

(Both apply, plague was just the one on my mind because it's way more wide scale.)

And we just. How can I say 'her traumas' when it's not just her traumas, but a very, very large portion of her community's?

IDK how to wrap this thought train up beyond "Satine is both a driving force of change and a product of her culture, and her ability to change her culture is a direct result of people sharing her traumas, either personally or socially."

One thing I’m thinking about, now that you’ve started this trend, is how petrified I am when someone is angry in my presence, sometimes. Even if it’s not directed at me. It’s weird, I can take a punch, in a sporting context, but even a relatively non threatening raised voice can be… That’s probably not that uncommon, eh? And my traumas, while def a thing, aren’t that sustained

Like how do I explain that she is what happens when you push a culture to the brink and get masses of people snapping back in the opposite direction.

How do I explain that she is representative of activism, not a rich girl with no experience doing her best to quash what's interesting about culture.

How do I explain that Satine, as sanctimonious and petty and condescending as she can be, is politically the leader of a cultural movement that stemmed by necessity from the majority joining her call to action.

You cannot enact pacifism through force. That's only achievable on a large scale if you convince people that enough is enough, and it's... it can't be Just The Rich that were arguing for it, like I've seen some people say, because the rich were mostly the ones with armor.

Like. That one post that goes on about how a medieval knight needed hundreds of people to support their career because of what went into it? Obviously that doesn't apply to nearly the same scale in star wars because tech and droids etc, but Mandalore was 'might makes right' for so long that we can reasonably assume wealth and power traveled to the warrior class, not merchants or crafters unless the crafter was a blacksmith.

Beskar is canonically expensive as hell. In this metaphor, the people wearing armor and arguing to 'keep to tradition' are by and large the feudal lords, not the people.

Obviously, the feudal thing doesn't directly apply; space has entirely different economies of scale, the changes and philosophical drama have been occurring over centuries if not millennia, warriors tended to move in cells, etc. but it's here for a metaphor to explain how "Satine was rich and that's why she thought it was good to erase culture" doesn't really play out when looking at the complexities of Mandalorian history, economic realities, cultural/generational traumas, and canonically-defined policy decisions.

[ysameagain]

First attempt at soap making

Been really wanting to get into making cold process soap recently, and I recently managed to get my hands on everything I needed. (I'm still waiting on some stuff in the mail but I couldn't wait to get started.) I wasn't sure if I should post this here, had quite a few mishaps, but I shouldn't be afraid to show my mistakes, it's all part of the process.

I didn't really wanna use palm oil so I substituted cocoa butter for it. (Tho I accidentally used too much, I think.)

So my recipe was kinda just thrown together by me, based on what I could get and what was relatively cheap. I could have and probably should have done a bit more research and planning but you know, hindsight is 20/20.

I'm not posting it here for anyone to follow, I just feel like I should so I (and maybe other people) can learn from it.

Recipe

30% Olive oil - 90g

30% Coconut oil - 90g

30% Cocoa butter - 90g

10% Almond oil - 30g

39-40% Lye solution - 40-41g for 101g water

20 drops of vanilla perfume oil

I had problems getting the lye out of the container (my spoon didn't fit), and I had to try my best to tip it slowly into the cap. My scale is also quite inaccurate, so for my next batch I have ordered a new, more accurate scale. I did get some on my arms, but as soon as I noticed any itching I immediately rinsed it as well as I could.

Please say hello to my wonderful setup:

I weighed everything out as best I could, microwaved the cocoa butter and coconut oil, and added it all to one big beaker.

Glass and Lye Safety Note:

This is borosilicate glass, so it's much more resistant that conventional glass. However, this doesn't mean that it is completely inert when put up against high concentrations of NaOH. I am going to switch to a Polyethylene container to mix everything in the future.

Anyway, I hand mixed everything for about an hour I believe. I probably could have stopped earlier, I was just paranoid about whether or not everything was incorporated. I am going to use a stick blender next time.

I actually made a little more than needed for the mold it turns out. I tried mixing in some pigment while it's in the mold, but that wasn't such a great idea, as it would turn out later.

The next day

I unmolded it two days later, I probably should've given it some more time, I'm not sure. Evidently, I immediately started messing around with one of them like play dough, forgot to take a pic before doing so tho.

I also need to get another container to mix the soap and the pigment, so that it isn't as uneven as it is here.

For some reason the backs were also really... crumbly, idk. Was it cause I forgot to take it out of direct sunlight? I read that you should take soap out of direct sunlight but nothing on the internet ever really said what direct sunlight would do. Or maybe it's cause of the large cocoa butter content?

I was unhappy with the green bar as well so I continued messing around with the two play dough bars, pressing them into the mold and just generally messing around with them. I tried adding pigment as well, to see how well it would incorporate.

This is where I'm leaving them now.(I cover them up to protect them from any sunlight, this is just to take a pic) I'm not sure what the discoloration in the bars is about, especially the one on the right, but oh well.

I'll post a final update in a couple weeks on how the soaps turned out. The soap that got onto my hand was honestly quite good, very bubbly and my hands didn't feel extremely dry afterward.

While researching what might've gone wrong I figured out that my 30% cocoa butter was too much and that it would prob make the soap brittle. I'll hold off final thoughts until its done curing though.

Long post, so thank you if you made it this far, I just really wanted to start documenting my soap making journey.

[neon-junkie]

Okay this started off as a little idea thing that was meant to help usher in good vibes for this new chapter in your and your blog's life, but it kinda got away from me just a bit . . .

Bartending was a pain in your ass? Understandable as hell. But for everyone's resident frosty-haired/temperamented bitch? ...Yeah no it's still a bit of a pain in the ass, but at least he's making decent enough money he feels.

May I introduce to you Bartender!Crosshair in a modern AU.

Thankfully he's not shoved into some corporate place: The cozy little establishment he's been burning the midnight oil at is, in fact, a lovely (?) hole-in-the-wall type of joint, a favorite haunt of all kinds of characters both weird and hella weird. And given that Cross is a naturally observant person, he knows his regulars. And you most certainly are not one of them, causing you to stand out.

...You also stand out because you practically stormed into the place. You try your best to be polite but when you place your drink order, it still comes out in a growl. Normally, Cross is the sort to take a passive aggressive slight to behavior like this: At least have the decency to be drunk before acting up with him. But he recognizes those signs: That outfit that says you're looking to impress without necessarily aiming solely for it; the way your brow is furrowed that suggests disappointment; that you're rapidly typing on your phone -- probably to a friend -- instead of taking a good gander at the environment around you.

Yup: You just had a shitshow of a date and you came here to add alcohol to the fire burning inside you.

The guy had been, to put it politely, a fucking grossass creep. The kind of misogynist present in 80s movies and practically parodied today. And frankly, you weren't sure of what to be more upset about: that you had wasted time, that you had had any positive expectations, or that both your time and expectations had gotten totally throttled through seven layers of drywall. Either way, you couldn't take it anymore: You snuck out of the bistro you'd agreed to meet at and found yourself in this cozy little den of gruffness.

Oh well, you thought as you took a sip of your drink. At least the bartender's cute here . . . Despite being on the slender side, he still seemed to have some kind of muscle going on, as evidenced by his arms made bare by the black shirt he wore. Not that the tattoos riddling his skin didn't also perk your interest. . .

I think I might've gone on far too long here but the gist would've been that you two sort of start to chat up and whatnot but then your shit date tries to come in and start something because you ditched him, prompting Cross to go ahead and act as a bouncer (because yeah, he's a bartender but he was still a soldier at some point in the Modern AU and thus can still think of seventeen distinct ways to kick an ass in under ten seconds).

You wait with him until the bar closes per his suggestion so he can walk you home, making sure that cretin doesn't get any ideas or anything. You exchange contact info "in case he tries to bother you again", though Cross does check up on you a few days later "to make sure you're okay." The shit date never reappears, but you and Cross continue to message one another. Often, in fact . . . Let's just say that maybe that shit date night wasn't a total loss for you~

ahhh anon, this got buried in my inbox, but thank you so much for this!! i love it!!! Crosshair would definitely work at a boujee, high end, snazzy looking cocktail bar. Whiskey is his speciality, but he knows every product like the back of his hand, and can tell what your taste is just by looking at you.

So, when you come in in a huff, he takes one look at you and suggests that you need [your favourite drink], and thats how the conversation begins flowing.

And then you're sitting on one of the bar stools, chatting to him in between serving customers, ranting and whatnot, and he's chuckling along and encouraging you to get it out of your system.

Yeah, i love this, anon. Thank you <3

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 5 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, an angry Nesta and a heart-broken Cassian

2094 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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

Nesta had never been one for small talk but in his presence she spoke as if she was excellent in small talk. They spoke of all unimportant things and ended up forgetting the important stuff; their names. Again.

Feyre sent an invitation for her first anniversary party as she did for every other occasion. The only thing different was that Nesta never bothered to pay heed to her invitations before. After the day in the alley, however, she decided she was going to turn over a new leaf. This was her first step.

She checked her reflection on the side-mirror. She tried to keep her outfit and make-up as simple as possible. She only wore a white ruffled-sleeved blouse with a black pencil skirt. Her hair was braided into a coronet. She looked good, but not as good as she’ll look if she took her own time to do a detailed make-over. She let out a breath and braced herself for the inevitable little chat with her sisters.

“Nesta?” a bewildered voice breathed. She whirled around to face her younger sister, Elain, looking up at her, a small smile playing about her lips. “You’re here,” she said and flung her arms around Nesta. Nesta automatically wrapped her arms around Elain’s smaller frame. Eventually, Elain pulled back.

“No offense, but I really thought you wouldn’t be coming,” Elain said.

Nesta felt as if the smile on her face couldn't be wiped out for the next few hours. “Honestly, I didn't think I'd come either. But here I am.”

She nodded and pulled Nesta to the garden the party was held at.

“I did this,” Elain said. “This garden, I planted and groomed all this.”

“No wonder why it looks so beautiful,” Nesta replied.

She flushed and said contemplatively, “You're so different now, Nesta.”

“I hope in a good way. Where's Feyre?”

“Let's go meet everyone first.”

Nesta shook her head. “I— I need to talk to both of you before I meet everyone else. ”

Elain hesitated then said, “Can you wait in that room? I'll fetch Feyre and come.”

Nesta nodded and headed to the door at the end of the garden Elain pointed at. The room was classy, much like the exterior of the house. She was struck by the simple yet grand theme of Feyre's house. She knew he and his brothers were rich but she just didn't understand the extent of their wealth. Till now.

“What are you thinking?” Feyre wasn't the type to blindly trust people. It took more than coming for her anniversary to persuade her that Nesta's intentions were good.

Nesta faced Feyre, her youngest sister, who stood before her, gorgeous yet fierce in a simple but elegant blue gown. She shrugged, “Just thinking that I'm glad my sisters were well-provided when I couldn't take care of them.”

Feyre’s face didn’t change, she just gestured towards the couches. “Have a seat,” she said.

Nesta sat down, “You both look splendid,” she said. Feyre said that the gown was a gift, Elain thanked Nesta and offered the same.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I need to tell the both of you something. Many things, actually.”

Elain nodded encouragingly. Feyre said, “Go on.”

So Nesta spoke. She apologised. For how she wasn't there to fulfill the role of an elder sister. For how she failed to attend Feyre's marriage and many other occasions. For all the rude words she spoke to them. For shunning them. She apologised for being self consumed. For everything else.

She also promised. To try harder. To become better. To be a good sister and sister-in-law. To be with them at all times, especially when they needed her. And they listened.

“I know these words aren't enough, but I'll try to make it so,” she finished, her hands clasped with both her sisters on her sides.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. We will too,” Feyre said.

“I see a very bright future ahead of us,” Elain said.

Nesta couldn't help the tears anymore. She folded her arms around her sisters and tucked them close. Her sisters. Her beloved sisters she now knew she'd do anything to protect.

“I see a very bright future too,” Nesta said.

Nesta pulled back after what felt like an hour and looked at her sisters' tear-streaked faces.

“I love you,” the three of them said simultaneously. Nesta giggled. Elain laughed. Feyre stared.

Nesta gently brushed the tears from both of their cheeks. “I don't want to see any of you crying.”

She hugged them again, willing the hug to convey everything she didn't say out loud.

“Now, now, enough snuggling. We've got a party to attend and people to meet, remember?” Feyre said.

***

Cassian was anxious. He had always hoped Nesta, his sister-in-law, would come for the gatherings they had; be it family dinners, or birthday parties, or the random meetings they had when they just got tipsy and played games. He hadn't seen her face-to-face before. All he knows about Nesta are from the descriptions from Feyre and Elain. That, too, was minimal. One of them would quickly change the topic to something pleasant the moment traces of an emotional breakdown were visible. Every time he hoped, he was let down. She never came. He vowed he would stop hoping and instead just go about and act as if she didn't exist. But that never happened. Every time his family met, his treacherous heart would start hoping only to have a chunk of it fall off when she failed to attend. Today was no different.

Then there’s the woman who he’d been talking to the whole afternoon. He was a tangled up mess of emotions and doubt and confusion. He had been sort-of pining after Nesta. She was exactly the person he’d like. Apparently she was drop-dead gorgeous, witty and… feral. Feyre said that. Feral. She’d be someone worth seeing. She was totally a worthy opponent. It’d be fun. But the other woman? Mother above, she was ethereal. More than ethereal, in fact. Words can't contain what he had to say about her.

He was damn near killing Az for calling him right when they were about to exchange names. He really can't believe he was a hairsbreadth away from knowing her before it was all ripped away. Now they were back to square one. He didn't know anything about her.

Azriel clapped him on his back so hard that he almost stumbled and fell. Or probably that was because he was too distracted. “All good Somm?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied noncommittally. He busied his hands with re-rinsing the champagne flutes and wiping them clean again. He did this two times already. Still.

“Mood is sour today, Cass?” Az teased, mock-frowning.

“Nah,” Cassian said wryly, “it's as sweet as honeydew. Especially today, when my chat got interrupted.” He glared at Azriel.

“Now, now, that is a story for another day. For now though, I think I've got something that can cheer up your brooding self.”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

Az grinned. “Nesta is here.”

***

Feyre and Elain took Nesta on a quick tour around the house. Feyre’s paintings were hung on the walls throughout the whole house. Nesta grimly noticed that there wasn't a single picture of her. There were even paintings of their father whose heart had long stopped beating. But none of hers. If only she didn’t push herself away, Nesta would’ve been a happy part of her sisters’ lives.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Feyre took her hand in hers. Elain tucked herself to Nesta’s side, wrapping her arms over her slender shoulders.

Nesta already met Mor, a stunning blonde woman, and Amren, a slightly intimidating and short person. Now she only had to meet her brother-in-laws.

“Let’s go meet the boys!” Elain said brightly.

We walked back to the garden. Feyre seemed to get more and more elated the closer we got to the garden. Huh. Probably falling in love would do that to someone. Anyway, as long as her sisters were happy.

They stepped through the doorway. The garden was decorated with more banners and streamers hung on the back of chairs and on the low branches. Again, it looked opulent in a simple way.

There were three men in the centre of the garden, gathered around a table. They all were slightly similar, broad shouldered, tapered waists, muscular limbs. Three of them wore formal shirts and pants clinging to their frames. The one in the middle was Rhysand, she supposed. She smirked internally. Of course Feyre ended up with this guy. She's got a good taste. Must've gotten it from the oldest sister.

The one on the right, though. His figure felt familiar. Very, very familiar. She couldn't quite put a finger on it yet.

“The one on the left is Azriel, the one on the right is Cassian,” Feyre said, and Nesta nodded.

The boys must be really engrossed with their conversation. They hadn't noticed the three of them yet.

The guy she thought was familiar threw his head back and laughed. She gasped. That laugh. She'd know the laugh anywhere. Indeed, when he angled his face so that she could get a glimpse, she knew she was done for. She swallowed with much difficulty.

“I need to go,” she said quickly.

“Go? But— but we haven't cut the cake yet. It's still early. We've got lots more fun stuff,” Elain said.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. Only, this doesn't feel like 'trying',” Feyre said.

They sounded… hurt.

Mother above, I'm doing this wrong.

“Nesta?” Elain asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Feyre added, “you look pale.”

“Y-yeah it's f-fine. Kinda. My head hurts,” she said, accidentally clutching her stomach. “I-I mean, yeah my head hurts. Very badly. I gotta go.” She looked helplessly at both of them. “I'm so sorry. I really am. It's just— I think I need rest. I'll recompense. Probably dinner in three days?” They both shared a look and agreed.

Nesta was already walking away. “Love you both,” she threw over her shoulder.

***

“Feyre!” Rhys called. He beckoned Feyre and Elain to the table. He didn't see Nesta.

Cassian lightly kissed Feyre on her cheek once they made their way to the table and said, “Gorgeous as always. Happy anniversary!”

Feyre grinned, but it showed traces of disappointment.

He frowned. “Hey, what's wrong?”

She just shook her head and mumbled, “Nesta.” Rhys's face hardened. His brother was never fond of Nesta. He said that she was why Feyre was always worried.

“Where's Nesta?” Az asked, craning his neck to see behind farther.

“She… left,” Elain pointed, revealing a figure disappearing behind the gates. A figure he knew all too well. Shitshitshitshit.

His head snapped back to his brothers. “That is Nesta?” he damn near shouted.

Rhys scowled, “Yeah.”

No wonder why she's so beautiful, he thought dumbly before running after her with a quick “I'll be back.”

***

Nesta was wrong. In all her happiness of being reunited with her sisters, she completely forgot how even a small thing can break one's smile. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She kept her calm demeanour, but inside, she was a raging storm of emotions.

One step in front of the other, she kept reminding herself.

She kept walking. Even when she heard footsteps. Even when the steps got louder. Even as he got close enough to cease running.

But not when he called her name. She halted. Locked up her emotions. She knew she shouldn't but she turned around anyway.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“Nesta,” he breathed. She tried to hold back her shudder. It was from the night air, she told herself.

“If you have nothing to say, do let me know. I'm not going to wait forever,” she said. Harsher than she intended to. But she didn't care, at least, that's what she told herself.

Cassian winked, “I'm honored you came, sweetheart. I'll pass the credit to my influence on you. ”

She ground her teeth against the truth threatening to fall off her lips. Yes, I came here because you made me happy. And I thought that if I tried, as I did with you, I can rebuild my relationship with my sisters.

***

Cassian did something stupid. He grabbed her hand. Her eyes snapped to his, burning with anger. Like the day they first met.

He gave her a crooked grin that he knew would drive her mad. Well, more than she already was. He tilted his head to the garden, “The party is that way, love.”

She snatched back her hand at continued walking. Like a fool, he followed. “I spoke to my sisters. Told them I won't be staying tonight. And that we'll have dinner in three day's time. Does that satisfy you? Now, can you stop following me?”

“Something's wrong. What's wrong, Nes?”

“One,” she ground out, “don't call me that. Two, I'm a grown-ass woman; I know how to take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter.”

“You did. That day,” he said quietly.

She whirled on him, “Is this you taking back favours? Because I'm not interested. You want money? Take it. Tell me your price and fucking take it! Don't tread on my heels because you helped me, okay? I've got way better things to do.” She paused, “And don't follow me, Cassian.”

She turned and stalked away.

You want money? Take it. 'Take it.' As if he were a beggar, asking for alms. As if they weren't laughing at each other's jokes not more than an hour ago. As if he didn't spend a week taking care of her as if she were a part of his soul. Maybe she was.

But that was before, Cassian thought as his heart cleaved into two perfect halves. No— it smashed to a million tiny pieces.

He waited till Nesta was out of his line of sight. He turned and walked back to the garden, leaving his heart behind.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella

[freddiefcknmercury]

A Promise(part 2)- Crimson & Clover

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader(Black coded/Genderless)

Word Count: 2.7+

Warnings/Disclaimer: SMUT. ANGST. cursing. mild depression/heart-ache. etc etc. if something needs to be tagged please lemme know.

A/N: LOL I'm back on my bullshit yall. heavy angst/depression from the previous Steve centered storyline so if you haven't read "You really think I didn't know?" I'll do some magic linky links here and at the bottom just in case. Also I'm trying something kinda different with the way I post the fics so feedback is welcome.

ALSO this one comes with a tiny playlist! there are Bolded lyrics throughout if you want to get a deeper sense of where I was emotionally writing this and where reader is as well you can Def give these songs a listen, they are in order of appearance:

Crimson & Clover- Tommy James & The Shondells

Every Time I Breathe- Arlissa

Navy Blue - Hasani

Summary: Bucky takes an extended leave for "work" related reasons and reader slips back into some dark places in his absence...

~*As always, be Nice to me I’m Delicate*~

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He said he might be gone most of the week. Sam called the day before and all you know is it's something important. He didn't go into detail, just packed a bag and you'd never seen him do that before. But he was also only gone a day or two at a time and never felt the need to tell you about it before now either.

Up until recently you'd tip-toe around each other. Not like you used to with Steve though, worse. Bucky is a lot better at making sure you don't know he's there until it's too late. It felt like you'd never get used to each other, or more likely that you'd never want to. You might've still been secretly hoping that he'd stop caring and go away... after a while you got tired of your own bullshit and realized he's giving off that vibe on purpose. Wordlessly telling you how you should feel about him, not wanting to get too close. You never much liked being told what to do.

It was only about two months before you became a Barnes' expert. You'd sit up at night listening intently for when he'd shower, get in bed, or wake up. He never slept more than five maybe six hours at a time, you'll never understand how he can function like that. You know how he likes his coffee, which angle he holds his cup. How and where he takes off his shoes, how much ice he puts in a drink, the way he likes to cut his toast, and what time he has to do all of it. There's an almost unnerving pattern to him, one that's always been there and you were just unwilling to notice for so long, and you're not sure if he's even aware of it.

You woke up to him already gone. You knew he was leaving but actually being left alone like that unsettled you more than you anticipated, a serious case of Deja vu. You went into your routine like normal, because everything still was, but by the fifth day... you stepped into the front room and got that empty feeling. One you hadn't really had since...

It stopped you for a few seconds longer than you liked and a large knot formed in your stomach. You spent the whole day trying to ignore the feeling but it only got worse. Like a hunger pain but much more vague, crawling through each muscle. You'd catch yourself staring at his room, Bucky's room but also... Steve's. It's the first time you let yourself admit to him fully crossing your mind in over a year.

You laid up in bed, trying to count the metaphorical sheep to no avail. Getting up thinking that a snack or a warm drink will stop the restlessness, you pause in the tiny hallway shared by your bedrooms. The low blue light from the moon outside dustily illuminating the space through  a cloudy bathroom window. You stare at the door like any second he's going to ask what you're doing up so late and you can tell him to mind his own business while pouring two cups of tea.

You just wanted to touch the knob; turn it to make sure it still works- that you're still "allowed in there if you want". But stepping inside was too far, an invasion of Bucky's privacy, and you felt it. But you couldn't help yourself. You needed to know.

They were definitely cut from the same cloth. Sparse furnishings and no decorations, save a few very small trinkets he'd held onto from who knows where. There is exactly one row on his bookshelf filled with composition notebooks that were beat to hell and back. Sticky notes lined the edge of most of the pages, so much so that they easily could've been mistaken for feathers on a quick glance. You dare not touch them. Observing someone with a past that checkered is very different to reading into the things they deem worthy of physically writing down.

Where Steve used to leave small drawings and notes Bucky left half empty ink pens and a few well used pairs of gloves. You saunter to the far corner of the room and caress a worn leather jacket hanging precariously on the lowest peg of a coat rack. Doing a slow sweep of the space something in the otherwise barren closet catches your eye. The knot in your stomach that had almost disappeared was back and it brought friends. Your shirt. His shirt. The big one that said BROOKLYN across the front, what you didn't know was your "going away gift." The one you balled up and shoved in the top corner of his closet, at the time hoping you'd never look at it again. You're amazed that it's still here, that Bucky hadn't tossed it out or tried to give it back to you when he moved in.

So you put it on. You're still not sure why but you needed to wear it. To feel it drape over your skin, enveloping you in warmth and that beautiful clean familiar scent you... loved once. It sent a shiver down your spine. The knots in your stomach were gone but now there's one in your throat. You can feel the tears seated right behind your eyes. You sit on the bed holding your face pleading with the water to stay put but it's too late. You miss him. You hate to admit it, but it's true and it always has been. You're angry and you should be, you loved him- you thought he might've loved you. Pulling the hem of the shirt up you wipe the tears off your face and fall into a pillow, trying to calm yourself out of your rage unintentionally drifting into sleep.

*****************************************************

You wake up to the sound of music in the kitchen.

...Ah, now I don't hardly know her, but I think I could love her...

You sit up quickly checking your phone: 11:34am. You'd fallen asleep in Bucky's room, in his bed. A blanket had been placed over you and a short scan of the room returned a brown leather duffel bag and set of black boots that weren't present last night. He'd come back early this morning and found you here. You can feel your heart fall straight out of your ass, the void that was left being filled with pure embarrassment. Is he angry? He did tuck you in...

As slowly and quietly as possible you make your way towards the door, poking your head out just enough to assess the situation. You can see his back in the kitchen, he's hovering over the sink. You notice the couch, the spare blanket and pillow from the bathroom closet folded neatly on one of the arm rests, he had to sleep there. The void gets deeper. You pull the door open just enough to slip out of and there's a quiet creak. Steve never did fix that, and you just figured out why.

Bucky didn't turn around but definitely noticed. He steps to the side, now in front of the stove and you here something crack and sizzle. You're not sure what to do here. You can try to apologies and explain but there's no un-embarrassing way out of this one. You fold your arms over your stomach trying to hold all your very delicate pieces together while you attempt to speak up. Finally reaching the bar and fully prepared to say good morning when he quickly sets a hot bowl down in front of you. White rice and a fried egg- runny yolk. You'd make it for breakfast when you'd get up early or couldn't sleep, a friend from school put you on to it. Looks like he's been studying you too. You make eye contact but, just briefly. From what little of the expression you get on his face nothing indicates that he's mad. But he hasn't said anything to the contrary either.

How was your trip?  Dangerous I bet-sorry you couldn't come home and sleep in your own goddamn bed! Oh?! AND you made me breakfast!

You feel like a crazy person.

"Comfy last night?"

He's pouring himself some coffee, not yet turning your way. There's no hostility in his voice.

You chuckle nervously.

"Yeah.. sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it."

He sets a small glass of juice down in front of you. Heavy eye contact this time, but his expression is soft. He didn't ask for an explanation and you really didn't want to give him one. But you still feel guilt looming over you. You take the glass in both hands and nurse it.

He nods at you with a squint, taking a big sip of coffee.

"If I knew that was yours I would've given it back."

The shirt. You forgot you actually put it on. You hold your breath stroking the fabric gently. Contemplating your next words.

"It's not- well, not really."

He raises an eyebrow.

"It was a gift, so I guess it does belong to me..."

Glancing back down at it you can see him realize it says "Brooklyn." His expression changes to a knowing one and it reads like regret but he quickly tries to box it back up for you. This is a new move for him.

There's a much longer pause in conversation than either of you would like before he shifts his weight awkwardly.

"Sorry."

You push glass, now empty back across the bar towards him.

"Don't worry about it-"

You swivel in your seat quickly, taking your bowl and getting up to leave. He steps out from the kitchen after you.

"Thanks for breakfast."

The tears had been welling up and started to pour over as you left. You're still in no state to pretend to be a functioning person right now. Trying to save him from your ugly cry face by escaping but he grabs your shoulder gently suggesting you backwards.

You cover your mouth to hush a sob. You can see your chest start heave but there's nothing you can do to stop yourself. He grabs the bowl setting it down carefully, then you feel a warm metal sensation squeezing the back of your neck.

"You don't have to be over it."

He's been back a couple hours and already knows you're still a mess. You scoff, laughing at yourself really.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing."

He whispered back quickly, exasperated, but tender.

You sniffle; pathetic.

"That's not how it feels."

"He fucked up. He just doesn't know it."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his embrace.

It's nice to feel another person. A real solid human being; you can't remember the last time you hugged someone like this. You turn in his arms to face him. He looks tired. Not just 'had-to-sleep-on-an-old-couch' tired. Emotionally repressed. Maybe he has actually wanted to talk to you. He pulls you into him, it's just a hug  but it almost hurt how sweet this was.

Then a thought came to you, not really sure how, you can't handle more rejection right now; but you kissed him anyway, hard. Like him being gone almost killed you- because it did. He pulls away from you, just a little, reading your face his own expressionless. You search his eyes for any kind of hint as to what's going on inside his mind. You're not ready to admit this was a mistake yet. There's no real way to know how long you stood there like that. You only dare to move after you hear the song change in the background.

Words... thought they just fade away

but hurt... gave them a place to stay

"Do something."

You were sure it was just in your head but it creaked out past your lips in less than a whisper, pleading with him.

He covered your mouth with his, smoothing both hands down your neck to your shoulders gripping them gently, intently. You cling to his waist almost afraid to explore anywhere else, then slowly drag nails along his back. He pulls you back into him, you want to fuse with the warmth radiating off of his body, he bends and you collide onto the floor with a muffled thud. He cradles your head quickly so you don't get hurt but you wouldn't care at this point.

The way you fit into each other is unnerving, like your bodies weren't meant for anybody else. You both scramble to undress him in between breathy wet kisses and he's... magnificent. He pulls off his shirt and you swiftly run fingers from his neck down each arm. The metal one is warm, this surprises you for some reason. You watch as each "muscle" dances at your touch and you catch a small glimpse of something on his face that resembles insecurity... or fear. He shelves it quickly in response to you bucking your hips up to dismiss your underwear.

He buries his face in your neck, warm breaths ghosting your skin. Hooking his hands behind your knees he hoists your legs up around his waist. He bites down gently and you gasp. It's too much. He's everywhere, all at once. The last person to touch you event remotely close to this was-

"...Steve."

It just came out, you almost didn't notice it. Bucky stops, pulling back and away. He scans you, a pitiful, panting mess on the floor. The most vulnerable you've probably ever been and definitely in front of him. He shakes his head slowly once, chest heaving.

"No."

Knots line your stomach once again. He grabs your wrist to hold your arms in place up above your head and presses his forehead against yours.

"Look at me."

You hold eye contact there for a solid minute, you're sure of it. He leans forward delicately dragging teeth against your ear.

"You're gonna keep saying it until you can't forget."

He drops his hips and lines up with your entrance. You feel a thick wash of euphoria from the pressure, throwing your head back as much as possible given the floor. You roll your hips along to his, cradling each other perfectly.

His eyes didn't leave your face until you both feel your legs begin to tremble.

"Oh Bucky."

The only words you can remember.

You feel every stroke hasten and all his muscles tighten each time his name falls from your lips. He pulls your shirt up to your neck looking to spatter kisses and bite marks across your torso. You futilely dig one set of nails into the floor and the other in his shoulder as he hungrily growls into your stomach, cursing, longing for mercy.

"Fuck."

You pull him back up to your face demanding his tongue. You hear the floorboard creek from the pressure of a metal hand, the flesh one surely bruising your hip by now. There's a deep enduring moan from the back of his throat as he finds his release inside you. You gasp at the sensation and you both pant into each other, nothing but a mess on the floor now.

He presses a long, firm kiss into the bridge of your nose then falls gently on his back beside you. You roll your head up to look at his face, whatever it is he's feeling isn't immediately obvious as he stares up at the ceiling. You shift onto your side placing a light, cautious hand on his chest and he glances over at you, reaching to squeeze your thigh reassuringly.

The sky is Navy Blue soon to be baby blue and baby you got nothing but time...

He looks over your face in a deep sigh before retiring his gaze to the ceiling.

"I don't know him... The guy that left you like that."

You watch intently has his jaw clenched, he's never been able to hide that bit very well.

"I don't know what kind of..."

He trails off, clearly upset.

You sigh deeply.

"I was gonna die that night."

He rolls his head back to look at you.

"The day I met him? I had pretty much made up my mind."

You start to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Almost reminiscent.

"But he found me in the staircase..."

You hate how subtly he did some things. If you weren't lying next to him. There's no way you'd ever be able to tell his breathing had changed.

"Essentially-"

You pick your head up, chin on his sternum.

"He saved my life."

You state matter of factually. You watch his body relax in a short, bitter way.

He rolls his head over just enough to look you in the eyes. You kiss his chest once tenderly before moving to stand up. You extend a hand down for him to grab.

"That isn't good for your back."

"You really think I didn't know?" Part1

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 32

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine

There comes a time in one's life when all is said, but still needs to be done, and in a heartbreaking majority of events, it also requires dressing up. 

You watched Loki pull on the ephemeral, golden threads shifting through the air around his face. "You sure it's working?"

"I know how to cast an illusion, darling," he muttered, focused on the mirror. "It's really not that hard."

"I don't see any difference." 

"You're not supposed to. It'll only work on strangers."

"So… We'll only know if it worked when someone screams?" 

"I'm touched by how much trust you put in my skills," Loki sneered, with eyes focused on his jaw. You wondered what the face he was working on looked like. Given the intensity, it must’ve been a work of art. 

Loki sealed the illusion and checked it from every angle. It felt so much better than the shabby mud that monk had plastered onto his face with little finesse. It might've worked against the less intellectual part of the population, but to anyone who had even the slightest knowledge of the high arts, it was no more than a laughable effort. 

Loki smiled, imagining the clash that would follow if the monk and his excuse of a sorcerer met the Asgardian magic wielders. It would be a sight worth paying for. Loki would make sure to get a seat in the front row. 

On the other hand, even he had to admit that the bracelet they came up with was a piece of work that he would never expect to find on Earth. Oh, he would've figured out how to get rid of it eventually, of course. There was no denying that. Loki might've figured it out earlier, if he… wasn't distracted. 

He looked at the source of his distraction in the mirror. It was that moment you found something in one of the pockets of your jacket. 

It was a phone. 

"I knew we forgot about something." 

"Is this…?" 

"That guy's phone. I didn't manage to unlock it in the end. How about we drop it at the precinct on our way?" 

Loki frowned. "Won't your officers be suspicious how we came into its possession?" 

"Not if we magic it in. Anonymously." 

"...that is not how it works." 

In the end, it was precisely how it worked. 

The phone, with a handy little note of explanation, just found itself at the right place, at the right time, without anyone at the precinct noticing. 

You patted Loki's shoulder. "Nice job. I wish you could teach me a few tricks." 

"It's not that easy. Your world barely has any magic, so it's difficult to make it comply with one's wishes," Loki said with a hint of sadness as you both turned and walked up the street in the direction of Peter's school. 

The streets were full of people, busy on their errands. The sun was blinding against the fresh scope of snow. The sky was clear and crystal blue, with the sort of unachievable intensity that almost felt artificial. 

"What is it like on other worlds?" 

Loki sighed. Walking so close to you, he could feel the brush of his arm against yours. His hands remained in his pockets, though. The reason wasn't the cold, of course, since he could barely feel the bite of it. His hands, for reasons beyond understanding, kept getting sweaty no matter how many times he discreetly brushed them against the fabric. 

"Spell casting is… essentially, wishing for something to happen, and convincing the world around you that it can become true. Magic is the means by which the world listens to those brave enough to wish. In your world, there's barely any magic. But there are others, where a mere thought shapes reality."

"Must be cool to see that." 

"It's almost like lying, truth be told. Ancient scholars used to classify it as the same thing, although mostly due to mistakes in translation of the most ancient volumes. Thankfully, I'm skilled in both. It makes life easier."

"Wait...so THAT'S where the whole 'Loki the Prince of Lies' thing comes from? Not that you're a lying, deceptive piece of—" 

"That's quite a touchy topic, you know. I might've… meddled in the lives of some very vengeful individuals, who out of pure, unjustified spite might've decided to curse me a little—... Wait, why are there children."

Loki stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the pavement. 

In front of him, as far he could see, stretched a sea of colorful stalls surrounded by a writhing mass of people, dominated by younglings in all shapes, forms, and levels of noise. 

You looked at him and back at the crowd. "It just kinda happens that this huge building right there is Peter's school. And this very school is organising the science fair for the kids attending it. Who, right now, are taking part in it. Here." 

Loki's frown deepened as he comprehended the mess. Groups seemed to form around the stalls, children and adults alike. It would be difficult for a stranger to guess what was being presented on some of the tables, and indeed, Loki couldn't guess it either. Some seemed to flash chemical reactions aimed to showcase colorful effects, mostly to the entertainment of the youngest offspring roaming freely around. Other tables were filled with equipment that surely took a lot of time to build, and even more to explain. Loki was quick to be bored by those. 

While swallowed by the crowds pressing on from every angle, you called Peter, pressing the phone to your ear close enough to hear him over the overwhelming noise. 

There were attempts at bringing order to the gathering, and some spaces had been less prone to chaos than others. Those, usually, were centered around food. 

"Ooh, I like that too," you said, putting the phone away at last. 

Following Loki's gaze, your eyes fell on the delicious looking snacks. The smell drove you insane and seemed to do the trick on the trickster too. You watched as some kids walked by, chewing on the deliciousness. Then you looked at the queue. A very orderly, and very long queue. 

"Hey, Loki." 

"Yes, darling?" 

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" 

"To my great surprise, I think I might be. Magic truly is a blessing." 

Peter found you not so long afterwards, when you were finishing the second round of magically-brought treats. Of course, you made sure an equivalent amount of cash appeared where it should. You didn't fall so low yet to outright steal from kids. 

"Mr. Mischief!" screamed over the heads of strangers was what caught Loki's attention. And the impact of a teenage body jumping right at him was what squeezed the air out of his lungs. 

"Hello, boy," Loki muttered. You gave him thumbs up. 

"I love the way you smell," Peter pressed his face a little more into the god's chest. 

Loki blinked. "Thank you, boy." 

Peter finally unplastered himself from the god and took the both of you in with such genuine joy that you couldn't stop a smile from spreading on your face. He was dressed up in a spotless shirt he kept tugging on. You whiffed a smell of cologne definitely not suited for his age. 

"Someone's nervous," you teased Peter. "I wonder what would've happened if we forgot your ring… " 

"Please, tell me you didn't!" 

"Of course we didn't." You pulled it out of your pocket. So many happy moments were connected to that ring, you almost missed it already. So much cake… 

Peter immediately tucked it away in the pocket on his chest, glancing around himself. If, by any chance, that one special someone was anywhere near, he wanted to know. 

He noticed you watching him. "I'm not nervous. I'm just cautious." 

"Whatever you say, Peter. It's your call." 

Despite his words, Peter couldn't stay in place. "Come on, guys. I gotta show you my project before we present them all!" 

Going any further into the mass of people was the last thing Loki wanted to do. The day was bright and chilly and the place Peter was leading them to was unmistakably a sports hall where the more ambitious, and temperature-sensitive projects had been placed. 

Loki, theoretically, of course, began wondering how he could disappear without anyone noticing. People got lost all the time and no one made a fuss about it. As much as he might not hate the kid, he wasn't interested much in high school projects of dubious chemical reactions, shown in stuffy, smelly interiors. 

As if you could hear his thoughts, you turned your head to face him. "I hope it works out. He's been working his ass off for the past few weeks to impress MJ." 

Before Loki answered, he noticed your outstretched hand. His heart skipped a beat, and jumped into his throat out of surprise. It was a pure coincidence, and a completely normal, random thing to feel, and there was absolutely nothing behind it…

Your hand was warm and felt right in his own. 

Of course Loki didn't get distracted. He just so happened to miss the moment when you reached Peter's lab table, densely occupied by all manner of gadgets and parts, with the main construction hovering above the rest. 

Peter didn't notice Loki's state. He was focused on all the things that still needed to be put in place or cleaned off the table before the presentation began. 

"It's okay, I've got it all under control," Peter said, hiding a few screws in his pocket. "The teachers are probably going to start with the tables over there, so mine would be second to last, which gives me plenty of time to—" 

Plans are good as long as all the parties involved are aware of them. In Peter's case, the teachers weren't. 

Peter's face went pale when he noticed the commission arriving at the table to his right. His eyes were wide and frozen in utter terror. 

And then he desperately tried to scramble everything together in record time.

You tried to help him, but you had absolutely no idea how. All you could do was watch him panic through the preparations at light speed. Loki squeezed your hand. "The boy will do fine." 

The boy was not so sure. 

He barely noticed when his classmates encircled the table, wishing him good luck and sharing advice that vanished from his head in seconds. 

Despite that, Peter managed to clean his table as much as he could before the teachers neared, with notepads in their hands. They tactfully ignored loose parts laying behind him. 

Loki caressed the back of your hand in a reassuring gesture. You both listened to Peter give the explanation of his project, with his voice wavering only a little. Peter started to go through all the steps he had prepared, pointing out all the important details as things you had no idea about changed on the table. The boy was pale, but did his best during the whole process, and as he moved to present the project, you almost believed he had everything under control. 

He didn't. 

In the moment of the biggest tension, when everyone was waiting for the results, they didn't come. 

There was a second of pure, unfiltered panic on Peter's face. He froze, eyes plastered to the unquestionable lack of any result. 

Your elbow jabbed Loki's ribs. The ribs were slowly getting used to it. 

"Please, help him," you whispered with urgency. 

"What am I supposed to do from here?" Loki frowned. He was tall and could see everything from over people's heads, but it didn't change the fact that there was a row of bodies tightly pressed together between him and the boy. 

"I don't know, magic something up." 

"Magic something—It doesn't work like that!" 

"Then make it. Are you the Prince of Lies or not?" 

Loki frowned, torn between looking at you and Peter at the same time. "Oh, blast it…" 

The results, preferably big and flashy, were what the commission was waiting for. Loki gave them results. 

Peter's eyes went wide when his project, that had been completely silent for the past few seconds, suddenly gave fruit to absolutely outstanding results. They were applauded, scored, and noted with grateful smiles as the commission moved to the next table. 

And completely not what was supposed to happen. 

Peter was still frozen in shock as he got encircled by his classmates, and showered in compliments and questions. The shock was still bright on his face as he was dragged further down the line of tables, to support the next unlucky friend. 

Loki followed the boy with his eyes. It looked like no one had noticed that something was not adding up. Loki had a very general idea of what Peter's project was supposed to do, since the lack of time prevented the boy from showing them the final product of weeks of hard work. He wondered which of the girls around Peter was that MJ. 

"I can't believe it worked," he muttered to himself, lost in thoughts just as Peter got lost in the crowd. 

"Thank you. You did great." 

Loki huffed, but couldn't stop the hint of a smile from ghosting over his lips. He supposed he'd have to answer a lot of questions once the boy was freed and jumped him again, but even that idea didn't feel so bad. It felt good to be appreciated and welcome in places and events that were important to someone. He was strangely glad someone wanted him to be a part of their life. 

Loki's breath caught in his throat as your arm slipped around his waist. A nervous, careful presence hugged him for a second, melting any and all resolve he might've still possessed at that point. 

"You're awesome. Wanna steal some more candy with me again?" your voice asked into his neck that suddenly ran with goosebumps. Accidentally, of course. 

But there was nothing accidental about the way Loki leaned into the hug, welcoming it with a feather-light touch to your back. 

"With you? Always, love."

A/N: Please tell me what do you think about this chapter or the series in general! It’s so sad to see the number of notes and comments decreasing with each new chapter :(