#unfortunately they would not have been viable anyway

[alacants]

just spent the better part of an hour on a call with bff gaming out lineups and strategies in which rafa needs could be satisfied while also getting spain through to the final ferru call us next time

[gia-d]

Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[fickleminder]

bound by blood (2)

Prev | Next

Kirana had been fully prepared to pass the encounter off as a bad dream if not for the persistent knocking on her front door.

"May I come in?" Her visitor flashed her a closed eye smile.

"…No?"

"Too bad, I'm coming in anyway."

Unfortunately for her, vampire rules didn't apply to demons. She instinctively stepped aside while he walked in like he owned the place.

"What do you want?" Kirana asked warily. The door remained open, just in case. Not that she was sure she could outrun a literal demon, but it was a viable escape route nonetheless. "I thought we were done."

"Why, you make it sound as though we had a nasty breakup instead of a mutually beneficial arrangement." The demon gave her modest apartment a cursory glance, looking utterly unimpressed. At least he didn't seem hostile. Yet.

I never asked for your help, she dared not say, because she had needed it in the end. Whatever magic was supposedly in her blood in exchange for freedom. The second the demon had vanished back to whichever layer of Hell he belonged to, she had hightailed it to the nearest road without looking back.

"I'll cut to the chase. I want more of your power, and I'm willing to strike a deal with you to get it." The demon turned to her. "My name is Satan, and I am the Avatar of Wrath. Giving you riches beyond your wildest dreams isn't really in my domain, but I can make sure anyone who crosses you won't live long enough to regret it."

"Call him off, please!" Wendy begged on her knees, dripping with the blood of her sisters. "We're friends, aren't we? I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you, I swear—!"

Kirana backed away in horror, her hands clasped tightly over her mouth. It was taking everything in her to not throw up at all the carnage. So long as she stayed quiet and out of the way, so long as she didn't interfere or attract any attention to herself, she would be safe, right?

Wendy reached for her, only to be jerked backwards by the tail that suddenly appeared around her neck. Kirana flinched hearing a loud SNAP and squeezed her eyes shut.

They had been classmates back in school. Wendy often helped her out during art class, and Kirana remembered admiring the way her hands flew across canvases with ease, bringing color and life to her projects.

Wendy's outstretched fingers were the last things Kirana saw of her. The screams of the coven would echo in her ears for days to come.

"The Satan?" Kirana's throat went dry. Nothing good ever came out of making deals with demons, let alone the Devil himself. "…I think I'll pass, thanks."

Satan frowned. "I don't think you understand. If I can't tempt you into it, then I can certainly make your life very, very difficult."

Kirana didn't doubt his words, but no meant no. "I'm not making a deal with you," she repeated, more firmly this time.

"Tch, fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." Satan's face twisted into an ugly scowl, and then he was gone in the blink of an eye.

The front door was closed, locked, and checked twice over before Kirana allowed herself to breathe again. Saying no to others had always been a struggle for her, but she knew she'd done the right thing.

Now, she could only hope it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.

.

.

.

Kirana was going insane.

It was like she had lost all sense of patience. Every little thing from the tiniest smudge on her bathroom mirror to a neighbor's squeaking letterbox made her extremely irritable. She would have the insatiable urge to throw hands over the smallest slight, even if it was bumping into the corner of her dining table. Her furniture had never looked so breakable.

Sometimes she swore she heard Satan whispering directly into her ear like those cartoon devils. "Aren't you tired of being nice?" His sultry voice taunted her. "Don't you just wanna go apeshit?"

She couldn't calm down, couldn't relax at all, and it was driving her crazy. Normally she would let things slide and just live and let live, but now it felt like the world was out to get her and no one had her back. Her brain refused to rationalize her experiences and constantly sent her thoughts into overdrive.

Kirana tried talking to her family and friends (leaving out her demonic encounter of course) and hitting the gym more often to work out the stress, but the itch crawling underneath her skin only got worse. Her nerves were completely frayed and it was getting harder and harder to function in polite society by the day.

The was all Satan's fault and if she ever saw that bastard again, she'd— she'd—

She still wouldn't give him what he wanted and he would happily continue to torture her for the rest of her days. Fuck.

Then one day, everything stopped. It was like the world had become silent, or she had gone deaf. Kirana dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, it was over and she could finally move on.

The next day, the other shoe dropped.

"Please tell me you aren't a demon" was the first thing she blurted out to the dark-haired man standing at her doorstep. She wanted to smack herself; who went around asking people if they were demons?

"I'd be lying if I did." The stranger smirked. "May I come in?"

"Are you going to come in anyway even if I say no?"

The demon arched an elegant brow. "I see one of my brothers is in dire need of a lesson in manners."

That wasn't answering her question, but what the hell. Kirana sighed and stepped aside.

"Much appreciated." He walked in and turned to address her with a hand on his chest. "My name is Lucifer, and I have a proposition for you."

[oceandiagonale]

Sooo...recently it has been very heavily implied that Penny's father is Peony, which would make Rose her uncle. Which would make her taking her girlfriend, Spare, to a family party even more awkward than normal for various reasons.

"Spare, this is my Uncle-"

"Rose, Ex-Chairman of the Pokemon League of Gallar."

"...of course you already know who he is. Anyway, please don't attack him. Uncle Rose, this is my girlfriend Spare DelRosa, a champion rank of Paldea and Ex-Hero of Arceus."

"...Ex?"

"Dad is an asshole so I quit. Still waiting on child support for Mom, the bum."

okay, I finally looked up where people were pulling that from and whoops, I should probably play the . team star backstory and mochi madness things sometime huh. 😳

anyways this is incredible tbh, can't believe Spare's not only following the Protagonist tradition of dating a former "villain" but also adding onto that by having one of them be her girlfriend's uncle FKJDSHFKJDS

(also this sent me down a thought rabbithole. Is Rose still allowed to stay in Galar? Did he get a trial even though Interpol/The United Regions Court doesn't have jurisdiction over stopping villains? Who decided his sentence? I'm so sorry I'm derailing this and rambling about Rose but it made me think a lot 😳)

I like the Star Trek concept of "jail" only being used as a last resort for people who are currently a danger to people around them and only as a temporary measure while working out some other supports, since the current prison systems all over the real world suck in unique and horrifying ways. But more importantly, I never ever saw that as a viable sentence for any of the villains anyways -- not even Lysandre, so certainly not Rose.

(................jury's still out on Ghetsis, but he's allowed to just wander around Pasio without much fuss so I guess he's fine too as long as someone's keeping an eye on him.)

More importantly, Gene was there to vouch for Rose's honesty about wanting to make it up to Galar. He definitely got community service, but what KIND? And were Archie and Maxie precedent, or did they even get a trial? None of the villains BEFORE them did, and Rose was the first one AFTER them to let himself be "caught."

When Guz first finds out that Archie and Maxie are undermining Lysandre, he says that Gene was happy that they stepped up to do environmental work, which means that the League was the organization taking responsibility for them, NOT Interpol.

But there's never any mention of paperwork regarding them, so I'm pretty sure Steven was just keeping an eye on them from there on out (especially since he was invited to their wedding later).

By the time Rose does his thing (checks watch) 6 years later, there ARE forms for each kind of incident. I'm pretty sure Gene wrote those himself.

So here's my thought: the League was still the organization that "caught" Rose. They were the ones that pressed criminal charges against him, mainly to set a precedent for future incidents (at Rose's request), and he met the same fate as Rose does in the Pieces AU: working in Hoenn as a scientist with Archie and Maxie's team on their environmental project. (Unfortunately, those two are too busy with Ultra Flare to be there much atm.)

After a while, he's able to go back to Galar to work on the energy crisis (with non-League personnel in the Villain Cleanup Division keeping an eye over his shoulder just in case and generally keeping him away from Leon so as not to distress him).

All that to say, yeah. Canon encounter.

[anarchypumpkincowboy]

Okok so like first off, I need y’all to know that this idea only came to me because I’d been watching ballets and the Indian movie I’d mentioned earlier Natyam (which is really really good I really do recommend it) but anyways one of those ballets was Swan Lake. Where the prince looks like this

Let us all take a moment to imagine this being Jace… okay moment over onto the au

So Jace multiclassed into bard in secret like when he was in college. His parents wanted him to become a wizard, and he tried he really did, but he failed and dropped wizard courses right after the second semester. He’s always enjoyed dancing, and he’s very skilled, but he’s always known that he could never view dance as any sort of viable life path. His parents would disown him. Not because they necessarily dislike dance or him dancing; they just believe he could do better, more important, things in his life.

He obviously goes to every recital he can, and damned if he doesn’t want to be up on stage with them. He goes back to his apartment after the performances and practices the moves as best he can. Sometimes when at night the moon is bright he’ll go to the spot he found by the lake nearby that’s slightly hidden from view, and get lost dancing to nothing but the music of nature. He’s not really religious, not like his mother, but he does find that dancing under the light of the moon helps to calm his mind and magic.

When he fails out of wizard classes he decides that maybe it’s a sign to go for something he’s passionate in. But he CANNOT let his parents find out that he’s switched from wizard to bard classes. They’re the ones paying for the university, his apartment, and they control his trust fund. If they find out he’s pretty sure they’ll disown him unless he goes back to wizard classes.

So he signs up for them in secret. He gets Corvin, a rogue and one of his best friends/fuck buddies, to sneak into the offices and make sure that there is no way his parents could find out.

And Jace fucking loves his dance classes. His teacher tells him he’s a natural, a prodigy, it’s still hard work and he’s sore and exhausted both physically and mentally at the end of every class. But it’s more than worth it. He’s never been so happy and at peace than he is when he’s dancing and performing.

As time passes it gets harder and harder to hide that he’s not learning wizardry from his parents. He just barely makes it out of having to go back home in the summer break, tells them that he’s still struggling so he decided to take up summer lessons this year. His parents are proud that he’s putting in the effort. And he is taking summer lessons, just for his dance class instead.

This pattern continues for another year. He’s slowly been working his way into more important roles, he’s even had a few solos this year. His teacher tells him that if he keeps this pace then by the fall semester he should start auditioning for some lead roles, that he’s near guaranteed the lead in a most.

Unfortunately that summer his parents decide they’ve missed him, and to surprise him with a visit. Three guesses as to what they end up discovering when they go to wait for his summer “wizard” lessons to get out for the day… They are of course furious. And when they see his name on a poster about a recital happening the next day, well, they decide to surprise him there.

Jace is the lead, and he’s incredible, and it’s so clear how much he belongs on the stage. His mother is almost moved by his performance, almost, and his father is thinking they should’ve stamped this out of him as a child.

By the time the performance ends, Jace is exhausted and riding an after performance high. His plans are to go out and have a few drinks with some of the other dancers before going home and crashing. That is of course immediately thrown off course when he leaves the building and sees his parents waiting for him. They don’t exactly give him a choice but to get into their car and ride in a painfully uncomfortable silence all the way back to his apartment. Where his parents make it very clear that he’s had his fun but it’s time start being serious. And that they aren’t accepting no for an answer.

But he is serious about dance, he shows them articles written about his latest performances, tells them about how his teacher calls him a prodigy, how he’s guaranteed the next couple lead roles. They don’t care. His father tells him if he doesn’t give up these ridiculous dreams they’re pulling away all his funding and taking him back home. Jace just barely manages to hold his tears back till they leave.

Okay, okay so he has till the end of the summer to figure out how to pay for his apartment, his schooling, and everything else. Not too hard right? Except that he can’t get a job that’ll pay enough for everything. And he already devotes almost all his time practicing. So he asks around his group if anyone has any advice.

One of his friends brings up how he could probably get a few scholarships. Another tells him that he should definitely apply for the House Sunstone Arts Foundation. It’s a pretty prestigious program, but even his teacher tells him he’s got a great chance at getting it.

About 2 weeks after he’s sent in his application he gets a response asking for a meeting with one of the members of the Sunstone family for an interview. The letter has the date, time, and address. It’s at a pretty fancy restaurant. One of those places with a dress code. And it’s only 2 days away.

He gets there. He’s nervous as hell. And as he’s led to the table he gets even more nervous because fuck he was not expecting the person he was meeting with to be so hot. Porter stands up to greet him, they introduce themselves, and Porter pulls out the chair for Jace. They both sit down, Jace apologizes for being late (he wasn’t, Porter had just shown up early). Porter says it’s fine, that he’d only just gotten there himself. They order food, Porter orders a bottle of wine for the table, and they begin talking.

Jace tells Porter about his accomplishments, his goals, his dreams, anything and everything he can think of to get him this scholarship. Porter nods and hums along before eventually asking why he’s applying for it. Jace tells him about how dancing has always been his passion, but that his parents envision a different life for him and cut off his funding. Porter tells him that he’s seen the videos Jace had sent in, that he can see the passion and talent Jace has, that he’s in the final list of applicants.

They finish dinner. And when they shake hands Jace tells himself he just imagined the caress of Porter’s thumb on his hand. He goes back home, tells his friends he’s made it to the final list. And life continues on for another 2 weeks before Jace gets 2 letters. One, from the foundation giving him another date, time, and address for a final interview in 3 days at the same restaurant. And the other from Jace’s parents stating they’ve cancelled his lease and he’s expected back home by the end of the month. He’s got three weeks of freedom left.

He goes to the interview. Once again Porter pulls out his chair. The conversation isn’t too much different from the last interview, but this time Porter’s asking him more questions. Mostly about his personal life unrelated to dance. And he keeps filling up Jace’s drink. And Jace keeps drinking. He knows he should stop, he’s already had a truly unprofessional amount, but Porter keeps filling it up. And Jace thinks it’d be rude to deny more, plus it’s good wine.

Jace knocks over his glass at some point, spilling it all over himself. He curses and grabs a napkin to try to dab it out but Porter’s leaning closer having already grabbed it and starting to dab Jace’s shirt. Jace is definitely not imagining how the dabs feel like caresses. And he’s definitely not imagining the look in Porter’s eye when Jace shivers from the touch.

They end dinner not too long afterwards, Jace can barely sit still in his seat now that he’s clocked Porter’s attraction. Jace is also far too gone to drive himself back home. So Porter offers him a ride. They go outside and Porter’s driver pulls up near immediately. Porter opens the door and gestures Jace into it. The back has plenty of space, but as soon as Jace has slid over to the other window seat Porter’s sidled up right next to him, draping his arm across Jace’s headrest.

Jace thinks he might actually explode. He knows there is no hiding how he’s practically vibrating out of his seat the whole drive. Especially when they come across a particularly sharp turn and Porter curls his arm around Jace to keep him from slamming into the window. And then just doesn’t move his arm back. Not until they pull up to Jace’s apartment building and Porter tells him to expect another letter soon. And asks for his crystal number. Jace gives it to him, obviously, and just barely refrains from inviting him upstairs.

More time passes with only the occasional texts between the two, and about 4 days before he’s due back home with his parents he gets the acceptance letter. Apparently not only will it be funding his schooling and dance specific items, it’ll also provide housing. Which is such a relief given he can’t renew the lease. Jace gets a text from Porter telling him congratulations, and that he can come by in a few days to take Jace to his new apartment.

Rumors spread eventually that Jace only got the scholarship because he seduced Cliffbreaker. But after he finishes his last performance before he graduates and gets scouted by 7 different companies those rumors start to die off.

[copperbadge]

Have we found a tumblr replacement yet? Apparently the latest “live” shenanigans were the thing that it took to break me. I’m not trying to stir shit, I’m just mostly here for you and a couple other blogs, so I’m going wherever you go.

I wish, but unfortunately not so far. I mean, I've talked a little about how I'd like to find one but there aren't really any viable ones right now, and there may not be a fandom mass-migration for years still. I'm more likely to follow the crowd than blaze a trail in this case, so it may be some time. For now my only real tactic is to simply not engage with staff or support at Tumblr in any way, and accept the changes as gradual steps towards the site's demise with as much serenity as I can muster.

I've already accidentally opened Tumblr Live twice while trying to navigate the app, which I'm sure is intentional, given I've now suddenly opened Tumblr Live twice since its inception instead of Zero. Relatedly, I would love to see them redirect that passion into making the "Mute Notifications" button actually work, but mine is not to reason why.

Anyway. There are options available, like obviously there are other social media platforms, but none have quite the combination of "easy to use" and "has a lot of people on it" and "Offers the same functionality" (photo and video hosting, an app, etc) even with an "ease of use" and "functionality" that are as crap as Tumblr's.

For example, Dreamwidth is great, but it's a Livejournal code fork so it's a very different format from Tumblr, more labor-intensive to make and share posts (no reblog function, image embedding can get a bit complicated, etc). CoHost is new and very promising but a bit of a ghost town right now -- I'm there and I've had a bunch of people find me there but still exponentially less than are on Tumblr. Pillowfort I still need to re-investigate; I'm there as well but it's been a while since I looked in, and I was struggling with the functionality previously. I had a look at Mastodon, but as positive as decentralized servers could be for the future of social media, I actively dislike the idea, and it also seems difficult to set up and complex to maintain. Discord is....there, and a lot of fandom stuff has shifted there, but its structure is very different and it's also decentralized, and also I hate it passionately and refuse to use it, so that's a no-go for me, though I suspect it's where fandom might end up.

If you're struggling with accessing tumblr directly, you might consider feeding the blogs you follow to an RSS reader -- I know people who do that and find it pretty functional, because then if they want to comment they can just pop open the specific post and deal with it directly. I don't know how much you know about RSS and I don't have the energy to fully explain it right now, but NetVibes is a pretty decent free RSS reader and it's what I use for certain blogs outside of Tumblr.

In any case, if I do find a place, or if I see the migration beginning, I'll sound the alarm :) In the meantime I'm still reading through my tumblr, stashing away posts to save off when I leave, even if that'll be a while.

[raytorosaurus]

i've been so curious about this 'unofficial therapist' that thursday had???? which member is he? how did they find him?? could he always play an instrument or did they ask him to learn so they could keep him around? did he actually help that much? how did it change thursday's writing? i don't expect you to have the answer to all of these things but you seem to know a lot about them and if nothing else i need to know who their therapist is and what 'unofficial' means in this case if you can help at all!

oh lol haha unofficial in the very literal sense so my guy andrew everding of the "no one ever expects it" chest hair fame from my chemical romance in the studio 2002 (@3:10) is like...the y/n of thursday.

he's just a nice dude who hangs around and everyone likes, good friend of the guys in thursday, and then his house burns down and he has nowhere to stay so thursday were like yo just come tour with us and he did. because he's also a very talented (multi?-)instrumentalist and, as it turns out, a great composer too. also at some stage he lived with geoff's mom? it is unclear if this is before or after the fire and/or joining thursday as a touring member. he also photographed their first west coast tour in 2002?

so like anyway by 2003 he's playing keys for the watt tour which is like.....I'd say the darkest point of thursday's history but that would be a fucking lie lol. let's say the darkest point of thursday's history so far. the guys are super stressed, super overworked, super depressed, and under loads of pressure from their label who's saying they're underperforming the expectations they had for them. geoff in particular is copping a lottt of criticism for his singing which he really internalised, and basically everyone in the band is miserable. they were also. not fucking talking to each other. like at all. they would just all constantly bitch about each other behind everyone's back and never say shit to their face. andrew, as a touring member but not official member, and as a Nice Guy, ends up becoming like...the intermediary to whom everyone in the band went to vent. so he's like trying to fix their shit and be positive and he puts his foot down and is like guys you NEED to learn to COMMUNICATE. (spoilers they didn't) but anyway the band after a particularly nasty and conflict-laden tour of australia in 2004 are like fuck this we're breaking up! but then as soon as they agreed to breaking up they were like wait. so much of the pressure is gone now. actually we're good we just need a break :) but media has kind of already picked up on the story of them breakup up so it was all dreadfully will they/won't they. this is also right as three cheers is blowing the fuck up btw 😭😭 #we'retwosidesofthesamecoin #he'smyvillain.

oh shit and then they go on warped 04 as what would have been kinda their last thing but they're like hey look at this we're sorta starting to work on our problems! oh and then at the vegas date 24yo geoff gets shotgun married to a woman he'd been dating for two years with mcr, tbs, and the bouncing souls as the wedding party 😭😭😭😭😭.

ANYWAY. they end up not breaking up but take a break from touring and then all move in together for a while? i think bc they were a little scattered at that point and geoff might have been living in sydney (his wife was australian) at the time idk so when he came over to do thursday shit they just like lived together apparently. and they write city by the light divided (so titled bc the band, naturally, was totally divided on how they wanted the album to sound lol). anyway the main difference now is this time round they've invited andrew to join as an official member!! :DDD

...unfortunately for andrew, this is also the time thursday stops being even slightly commercially viable lol so he's like technically im earning less money now than i had been on a tour salary lolz. anyway he becomes a big part of the writing process, especially for that album and no devolucion, the instrumentals if which were apparently driven pretty heavily by him!

then in 2008 onwards thursday were all broke as fuck and needed to get day jobs to pay rent. most of them went into like...food service or painting houses, but tucker drummed for mcr for a bit and andrew worked as.....a guitar tech? for patd????? (also after the break up, tucker was in boy band the wanted for a while as their touring drummer. he loved it lol <3)

anyway tragically, andrew hasn't appeared at any of the reunion shows 😔. he's private so no details but he was dealing with some health issues towards the end of thursday that contributed to the band deciding to break up and has a baby and shit now. but he did continue touring as a musician a bit, like with neil finn in 2014!!!!!! playing some wacky fancy midi/synth electronic instrument iirc? epic collision of my childhood fave and new-adulthood fave.

anyway lol this is all typed out in bed on my phone off the top of my head so there might be some chronology errors in there, but a lot of this is from their documentary, kill the house lights! it's a comedy. dark comedy.

#andrewnation <3

[cloudgremlin-creations]

Grafted Branches (rise?)tmnt AU

Separated AU? In my turtles??? It’s more common than you think 🫵

Introducing the sillies who have been knocking around in my head for like. … Fiiiiiiiive months now? Anyways, behold ~*

Generally inspired by the worldbuilding of RotTMNT, but takes a lot of inspo from ‘03 as well. Mixed, of course, with a heavy dose of Cloud Patented Faerie Shennaniganery. Also Leonardo is a golden leucistic color morph because why not at this point!

Am I a little gone mad scientist with power that I can do this with my mind and then subject y’all to it? Yes. Yes I am. Apologies for the barely controlled autistic special interest yelling. More under cut

Long ago, all those beings now referred to as “mythological” or “magical” fled the earthen realm to the space in-between worlds, running from some now lost to time threat so great even the dragons stumbled before it. Since the in-between was almost completely open empty space, entrances and thresholds of all sorts were created in the weave- the fabric holding the earthen realm together- and soon vast cities and wild forests started to flourish. Even so, the folks’ numbers dwindled, and the weave that held the world apart from the in-between and the worlds beyond frayed and stretched thin from constant travel. This way of life would not be viable much longer.

In the city hidden by the frayed weave under NYC, an alchemist works to recreate what has been lost. Something of great power both physical and magical, something to save folk-kind from fading away from existence, something to re-knit the knotted and torn weave and stop the in-between from crumbling into the earthen realm. Though no samples of the great dragons remain, many tales do, and the alchemist is as smart as he is stupid in his pursuit.

Four of twelve subjects survived the unfortunate incident of the live human sample ruining everything. Each leaving the wreckage of the alchemist’s lab, each tumbling into different lives, spread out amongst both the hidden city of folk below and the New York City of humans above.

[thebxghag]

Arts professional to garden blogger pipeline? LOL anyway...

It's very early in the year, but I live in an area with an extremely short growing season, so this year I'm trying to start as many of the plants that would need more love inside as possible. Last year, we planted tomatoes directly into the garden boxes and unfortunately the plant had only started producing fruit at the very end of our viable growing time.

We had to harvest them all still green, as a result, and we had way too many tomatoes for us alone to eat, so the majority of them got given away and we didn't really get to enjoy them over the entire summer.

This year I'm hoping we can start enjoying tomatoes way earlier by planting the seeds indoors now!

Anyway, we get roasted chickens a lot, and it's a lot of plastic waste, and I needed a greenhouse but didn't want to buy a big one because of the cost. These little containers are kind of perfect tho??? They've got venting abilities too which is great.

I'm starting these five plants now and then I still have broccoli and squash to start later in the season, as their indoor starting times don't have to be as long as these ones. I'm doing a pollinator/native plant garden in addition to my vegetable garden this year, and the marigolds are for pest control.

(Not pictured here, a secret sixth plant: the green pepper package since I finished it and tossed it before I decided to do this, oops xDDD).

I have a bunch of other flowers as well, but they can all be direct sown. I'll be planting sweet peas, sunflowers (red and yellow), cosmos, and I have hollyhock but since this area has a lot of small children and people wandering between backyards when you wouldn't want them to, I don't think it's probably safe to actually plant it outside of a balcony garden here so I won't be sowing them this year (I'd gotten them for last year when I was on my own at an apartment, and so my flowers wouldn't have been accessible to anything but birds and pollinators from my balcony).

I've planted mouse melons before in this area, but they were from a mature seedling -- we had a huge yield, and I want to try pickling them still, so I've started them indoors myself this year. Very excited.

Also exceptionally excited about the blue cherry tomatoes if only because I find it very novel when vegetables aren't 'traditional colours'. Hehehehe.

anyway long story short I started all my indoor greenhouses and I don't have like -- grow lights or anything but I'll do my best. LOL Guess this counts as planting day one.

[cowabungacarl420]

So, what's TMNT: Aftermath?

TMNT: Aftermath is my TMNT iteration! It exists mostly in my brain right now, but the goal is to make more posts about it and maybe eventually make some short comics or fics around it. General plot summary and character bios under the cut!

What happens when your entire life leads up to one battle, and then before you know it it's over? You're 18, your entire life stretches out ahead of you, and you realize you have absolutely no plan from here. The Shredder has been defeated. Now what? It's just you and the aftermath.

Characters

Splinter - A year after the final battle, Splinter developed a series of tumors and became mostly bed-bound. He is aware that he likely doesn't have much time left. In theory, he should be at peace. He lived long enough to watch his sons triumph over the odds and defeat the man threatening their lives. So why does he feel so much regret?

Leonardo - Leonardo often wakes up in a cold sweat. He delivered the killing blow in the final battle, and while it's something he knows he should be proud of, there's something about beheading someone that fundamentally changes who you are as a person. To soothe his guilt, Leo dedicates most of his time to meditation and caring for his ailing father.

Michelangelo - Mikey sustained a serious leg injury in the final battle. He tried to hide it, but eventually it became clear that he just couldn't continue training. And hey, he didn't see the point anyway. The Shredder was dead, right? Why should he keep practicing stupid moves and waking up early for meditation? Mikey's life is his, and he's going to do what he damn well pleases with it. Like, uhh.... Okay, maybe he left without much of a solid plan. But he has a hut on the beach front to crash in. And a group of late night partiers have been nice to him. Maybe they could be his new family.

Raphael - With Splinter unwell and Mikey quitting, ninja training screeched to a halt. Raphael is full of energy and resentment, and he has no idea what to do with it all. He befriended Casey by chance in his early teen years, and now Raph spends most of his time in his bedroom, smoking weed and talking about the kind of vigilantes they want to be.

Donatello - When things in his family life seem unstable, Donnie turns to the comforting structure of academia. Donatello has enrolled in online college! And while his robotics course is great, he can't help but feel envious of his classmates. Long nights alone, staring at their social media pages and contemplating what life would be like if he could go out and participate. Some nights, he can't resist trailing his classmates from a distance. Just to observe.

Casey - Casey and Raphael met when they were 13. Maybe it was because he was a feisty kid who didn't admit to being scared of anything, maybe it was because Raphael seemed more scared of him, but Casey didn't run off. Instead, that was the start of a bizarre but rewarding friendship between the two. Unfortunately, being friends with a giant humanoid reptile doesn't automatically make your life interesting. Casey stacks shelves at a grocery store 3 days a week, and spends the other 4 smoking weed with Raph, and discussing what their lives would look like if they actually had meaning. Did you know that the world of ice hockey is actually very competitive? It's disheartening.

Karai - It's weird seeing your dad get beheaded in front of you. Even weirder when you kind of think he deserves it. Once the Shredder died, the Foot Clan fell apart without much ceremony. Some members went off to form their own small-time petty crime rings, but not Karai. She got an apartment, and tried to figure out what her life could be when 'accessory to a war criminal' was no longer a viable career path. It's also decidedly more difficult to put that life behind you when the guy who beheaded your dad keeps trying to invite you over for tea so you can bury the hatchet. You're 90% sure he's just lonely.

April - April O'Neil saw patterns where no one else did. Some would argue she saw patterns where there were none. But god damn it, she knew what she saw on that rooftop. And no amount of being called a crackpot conspiracy theorist would stop her from getting to the bottom of figuring out who those weird looking green guys were. She WILL expose the truth this time, no matter what it takes.

[feminist-dinosaur27]

Right, so this post is going to be two things. One half of it will be information and opinions defending Neil Gaiman, and the other half will be against him, and we will take from that what we will. (Currently, im not on his side because we don’t have enough info to make proper decisions)

1. The article where the allegations surfaced from was not the most trustworthy. It originated from a very small podcast that not many people were engaged in, so we can’t say that is a viable source. One of the victims is a known terf. I don’t want to say that she made it up, but unfortunately accusing celebrities of things for attention has become extremely common recently and is making it difficult for victims to be heard.

2. Just because it doesn’t seem in his nature to do something like this, doesn’t mean that he isn’t able to. Anyone is capable of r@pe, even the last person you would expect. The sa stuff isn’t the only shitty stuff he’s done in the past. He’s been known to say zionistic bs, and has defended a pedophile.

Anyways, that’s all that I have to say. Feel free to discuss in the comments and reblogs.

[starflungwaddledee]

clearing my inbox of a variety of asks with text replies, or ones that will get art answers later but that i still figured i could get back to now with simpler responses in the interim.

lots of anons, but i'll ping anyone who i can!

topics include: general nice words + people's theories (thank you!!), dededesign, daroach (sorry), sentient ancient artifacts, magolor (sorry...), whispy woods (SORRY...). there's also a decent scattering of awtdy and clockwork heart tidbits but they're all over the place, and a small collection of increasingly desperate asks hoping bandee will be released from morpho dee 😂

oohh this one is actually super old, sorry that i never got back to it! i get a little overwhelmed by the Nice Words ones sometimes and i'm not sure what to say besides 'thank you!!' because it means a lot to me and 'thank you!' just sometimes feels like it doesn't cut it...?

anyway, i'm very grateful!! i'm thrilled if i could inspire you to try out any constructed-language work of your own!! i'd love to see more of that going on in the kirbyverse so if you ever give it a crack feel free to lmk!

i'm glad you like the full penguin dededesign; quite a few folks seemed to enjoy that actually and i was pleasantly surprised! i haven't drawn that much of most characters besides bandee, to be fair, but the next comic will be about dedede and should answer some of the other questions i've been getting about him too!

i should say that it's likely the totally full penguin design won't make it for the comic, because it's hard to draw the sheer length of their bills from many angles or having the expressiveness i need for dedede, and i really only did that one for funsies. but i'll hopefully find a nice compromise!

aaaa the joy of being mentally unwell about The Characters and The Story. thank you, glad i can be of service! 👍

this is quite perceptive of you to notice and it's definitely something that occurs in the timeline. due to galacta knight's influence (and kirby's altered reputation) visitors and threats- both international and intergalactic- start to think twice before risking an approach.

alas, because daroach appears in the timeline before galacta knight's switch-in occurs, he would already be in contact and friendship with kirby. that unfortunately means he'd meet the same fate as the rest of kirby's existing allies.

@i-only-created-this-to-read a little similar to the above ask, yes, the intergalactic picture of popstar is definitely changed by the presence of a violent, otherworldly warrior and a ruthless hero. i also answered your questions about necrodeus previously and am not sure what else to say about him.

i have confirmed before that dedede is not dead, and more about his scenario and overall role in the plot will be revealed in comics. but i will say that he's a smart guy, despite his silliness, and a loving king. he absolutely came to the same conclusion about the frequency of his own possessions as well, through no small amount of heartbreak.

i definitely headcanon the Lor as sentient; in the light novels, bandee also speaks to her fairly directly. i actually headcanon all the Ancient artifacts as having an amount of sentience (this seem in line with what we've seen in canon, so i don't think it's a reach) and the lor herself seems especially benevolent to me.

our headcanons for the novas are different to yours, though that plays more of a role in the clockwork heart au. i quite enjoy your theories about how the ending might go and you've definitely picked up some details!! i won't confirm or deny anything, but i will say the lor is present in the AU, and that magolor has enough knowledge of artifacts to know that a wish on a wishing star could be a viable solution.

it took a while for folks to start asking me about magolor actually, which i found kind of amusing because he's the deuteragonist (second protagonist, after bandee) of the au!

i do definitely think that canonically magolor lives on the lor starcutter; though he does say he wants to buy a holiday home on popstar! however in awtdy, unlike the dream land four three, magolor's entire timeline is trashed from the get-go by galacta knight's arrival

some of these answers will take me longer to get to as i'll provide them in comics (it should be a fun reveal at least), but i will say: he hates popstar. he hates it there. he'd give just about anything to be anywhere else.

until he meets bandee, of course.

the rest of popstar fare a little better or a little worse at various points in the au, kind of like in the mainline canon timeline. for the most part, galacta knight isn't that interested in most of popstar. he enjoys living there, it's peaceful and undeniably pleasant, and frankly he'd like to continue doing so!

he can be convinced (by kirby, and the maintenance of the lie) to perform care to some of its citizens when necessary- such as rebuilding after a crisis. but in general he minds his business in dream land, and occasionally off-world or interdimensionally with kirby and bandee on missions.

whispy, who also keeps to his own in the woods and is just a cantankerous old tree, is probably fine. at least up until star allies, when he, you know. gets possessed.

@pumpkinnkidd oh absolutely.

@torrentialchaos2 that would be a different story to chrysalis au, i think! one i could write, but haven't. chrysalis au is specifically about bandee, you can't really extract him from it? 😭 but if morpho possessed magolor it would depend on a lot of things: like what is everyone's relationship to him when it happens? i think even when he comes back from his redemption arc, magolor and the gang are friends, but it's not the same as bandee, who is a core member of their unit.

we've already seen what happens when magolor gets possessed and kirby has to Beat His Ass to get him back to normal. and we've seen that when morpho possesses others who are capable fighters, kirby doesn't hold back. so maybe that? magolor is a magical little guy; he's got a better chance of getting spat back out unscathed.

i could however probably write a version of this for magicapple if i wanted, which would be much more emotionally pulverising lmao

@trainerbob23 thank you!! this one took me a bit to respond to sorry, but i'm grateful for the warm welcome! the AUs are definitely my primary investment and i'm glad that folks are enjoying seeing them develop! some of them are connected to each other (awtdy + it's various endings/alts) but others are separate.

i also do have some backstory/lore for starstruck dee, which i'll hopefully get to soon as well. i would say that she is... very much related to stars and the cosmos, yes.

@eliastheownerof0axolotls this one was part of a longer ask (that i've answered part of, and still have another part of in my queue... sorry;; ) but i think this part- especially in terms of kirby- has probably been mostly answered by now! both kirby and dedede have significant roles!

i view dedede as having a mentor-like dynamic with bandee as well as with kirby, and they all care about each other very much! but (especially because they are all adults in my hc) he also absolutely trusts them to handle themselves.

referring to this post and the (cw angst) art at the end. i will hopefully answer some other asks about the clockwork heart au which will satisfy more of its overall premise and timeline and all, but in regards to the peculiar image...

why that picture is completely normal!! bandee is super fine and normal in it and everything is great and good and fine and fine and fine and fine!!! hhahaha!!!

(something very bad is happening, lmao. entirely doomed by the narrative.)

speaking of bandee being doomed by the narrative:

some tags here as well, but i just love the frequency of these...

bandee gets possessed one time and everybody loses it... quick!! when will he get unpossessed!!! save that little guy!!! he's sad so we're sad!! (relatable. everyone is so valid.)

the tags on the main posts about morpho dee are just full of people screaming and crying and being like "NOOO I HATE THIS SM I'M IN PAIN /pos" and it's so good hahahaha

sorry to the folks who hate to see him going through the blender, he's being spun in the microwave at like 90mph on my blog. but don't worry, chrysalis au does have a predictably good ending; though obviously bandee has some capital S Stuff to unpack afterwards!!

🌟⭐✨

aaand i think that's all for now! hopefully if you've been hanging out for an ask for a while you're answer is here, and if not (and possibly even if it is), it's most likely taking me so long because i want to do an answer with art.

i'll try not to let these build up again like this, thank you for your patience!

[puddingestcat]

My new art supplies arrived! So, several days ago I saw something about being able to use clear gesso to stop markers bleeding through paper. Even thin paper. Google said something like printer paper would still be no good, because it would warp etc. However! I am incredibly cheap when it comes to paper... Because its one use. Even when I get more expensive paper I'm afraid to use it and waste it. So I often prefer to use... Printer paper :P Anyway, I wanted to test whether using clear gesso on something as thin as printer paper really would be doomed. I also wanted to see whether it needed several coats as videos suggested, how the texture was, and whether the clear gesso would cause ballpoint and normal ink pens to smear. 1. The first image is my prepared tracings, two on printer paper, one on super cheap supposedly watercolour paper. Unfortunately I didn't think to take a photo after the gesso was dry, but the normal ink pen definitely smeared, and the ballpoint smeared a bit too I think. The printer paper curled a little with the gesso at the corners, the cheap watercolour paper initially curled a lot, then flattened itself. 2. At any rate, the second picture is colouring with my new Ohuhu markers. Bad colouring is down to me, it has been a long time since I last coloured something. Regarding the texture of the gesso, it definitely feels slightly rough/gritty compared to the normal printer paper. And as you can see there are fine lines in the direction that I applied it in with the sponge brush. When I went to draw in the pupils of the eyes with ballpoint pen the texture made it very tough to draw/write on, as you can see with the date. Definitely pays to have your lineart/sketch under the gesso if you want it to be smooth.

3. This is the reverse of the previous image, so you can see that the normal pen which was used before the gesso went through the paper slightly, but nothing got through after the gesso had dried. I was especially pleased with how it let me blend the marker colours together a bit without any worry of ruining the paper.

4. As you can see, the gesso did fade some of the pencil sketch on this one quite a bit.

5. Applied watercolours, like the markers it allowed me to have some freedom in blending them and even layering some colours. I did not try to wet the paper at all however and was using cheap watercolours that come in those little dry circles and the brushes that have water in them. Like the markers you can see the lines of the gesso on it, but I don't think it turned out too bad. I went over all the outlines in pencil and as you can see the rough texture made all the pencil lines very dark. (I'd also applied a thick coat of gesso in the top left corner of each picture to test if the single coat hadn't been enough to prevent things bleeding through)

Overall I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out. Using it on printer paper definitely seems viable, with the main drawback being the line texture. I have read people mention potentially sanding it because they had concerns about wearing marker tips down for the same reason. It should provide me with something useable to practice on though until I feel confident enough to actually use my fancier paper.

[mousemannation]

kokkinakis' presence in the 2023/24 tennis sphere is sooooo specific. despite not have a particularly good season AND not even being the most popular australian player, he's always around.. lurking.. he shows up in media content more than he probably should, i am always being jumpscared.

subbing in for adm at davis cup wasn't particularly surprising, I mean we only have so many players to pick from; but for laver cup is more interesting to me. I do think they specifically wanted the replacement to also be australian to like keep the spread of team world, so that helps. I saw comments on the instagram post saying it should've been Popyrin, but I'd assume they have backups for all the players chosen way in advance, and Popyrin only really became a viable option after he won montreal and then of course his uso defeat of novak.

But again, Kokkinakis hasn't had a great season. It's not been catastrophic but his love affair with five set matches is disastrous lol. His whole career has been plagued with injuries and he's never really recovered from the loss of momentum that caused. He definitely could be much higher ranked though...

I think the combination of a couple of big (singles) wins over his career + the ao22 doubles slam win (which should never be overlooked!!!) + general proximity to the cannot stay out of drama for the life of him kyrgios has granted kokkinakis a sort of staying power in the tennis space he otherwise would not have.

He's never been a crazy public presence himself, even when the whole Special Ks thing was fucking everywhere at ao22 his shtick was always in contrast to kyrgios' chaos. He's so just a dude??? Honestly even his sort of friendship with tsitsipas is overshadowed by kyrgios' weird on again off again friendship with tsitsipas. Kyrgios is an ever present spectre in kokkinakis' public presence and im so curious how that will evolve when kyrgios (unfortunately) returns to the tour.

Anyways,, i hope any of that made sense siekskks it's just something I've been thinking about for a while, but especially since his subbing in for adm at both Davis cup and laver cup. I'm solidly neutral about him by the way, like this isn't any sort of criticism or whatever on him!!! Just some rumination! Also omg Im pretty sure I haven't like said any lies but do nawt take this as gospel im mostly going off vibes so if any details r wrong I apologise!!!

[abandonthefort]

for the wip ask game: Tinker Solider Butler Spy!!! despite my better judgment i do think le carre kind of eats (and approaches spywork from a much less romanticized way than TP does), so I'm super curious about that one!

Also would love to know the premise of "Jon dies in the middle" because it's a category of AU that can go in 1000 different directions depending on how you do it

Tinker Solider Butler Spy is....literally just my Coram backstory fic. Which...Coram isn't really doing spying spying....but he's...listen. Servants Hear Things. You can't tell me that Coram is not going around in the palace as Alan/na's manservant and not making sure that absolutely no servants think anything weird is going on with his kid??? (wait. shit. writing this out made me realize that i think part of the reason that Coram can't fucking stand George isn't just that he's a criminal, its that he's a criminal that Coram had to at one point get help from to protect Alan/na from being outed. so that spicy dynamic is going to be fun to explore.)

the problem with Jon dies in the middle is that i have TOO MANY ideas about how it will go. I would like to write several of them as short works; there's a couple things that i've thought that i went "long fic???" but i have thus far Exercised Restraint. It has been a herculean effort TBH and once i'm down to a whole ONE multi-chapter work I will probably come back to whatever idea i find most viable and interesting for a long fic). The one i've thought the most about is an AU of all of this can be broken because i'm wildly self-indulgent like that and let me just say: Revenant!Jon Does Not Improve Things, Unfortunately. (and boy, could things really have used some Improving) He is also acutely distressing in an interpersonal sort of way. snippet for Tinker Soldier Butler Spy below the cut! ft the dynamic i am softest for in probably all of Tortall: Coram and small children

Coram Smythesson was born in Trebond village to Harald, the blacksmith, and his wife Fritha, a maid at the castle who had worked her way into Lady Rufina’s good graces and had thus elevated herself. Rufina had been thrilled to find a woman with a touch of the Gift who was quick and delicate with books and had expressed tentative interest in their contents—she had always wanted an assistant and her brother had always declared (not incorrectly) that there wasn’t money for such follies. But a maid who could assist would cost no more money than one who could not, and better educating someone in the use of their Gift could only be of use to the fief. And it wasn’t as though Rufina had told her brother before beginning teaching Fritha to read anyway.

And Fritha knowing how to read was a boon to Harald Smythesson too—she could better keep track of his accounts and ensure he wasn’t being cheated by the merchants, even if he did not exactly have the time to better his own literacy. But Fritha had enough time to ensure her children could read, and it was easier to teach a child than a grown man tired from a hard day’s work anyway. But it would mean that Coram would be better prepared to take over his father’s forge when he grew old enough.

Coram wasn’t opposed to taking over for his father. He liked the forge even, the way it pumped out heat in the winter time and the glow of hot metal, the hiss of work dropped into the quench. He was not convinced of the use of reading, but his mother insisted, and there truly wasn’t much to do during the long, dark winters. He’d rather listen to stories, but Lady Rufina had found a book of tales from Scanra that she had allowed his mother to scribe a copy of, and those were well enough, and different from the stories that were told round the village, and that had rather sold him on the use of reading, particularly once he had to mind not only his sister Salva, but his brother Einar too. Being able to tell new stories that only he (or his mother, but she was busy, or any of the nobles, but they had no real interest in the village children, even if Lady Rufina did ask after them because they were important to Mother and she was fond of her maid) knew was a powerful method to get them to listen to him, or go to bed on time. It wasn’t the same amount of power his father wielded by being Father: big and strong and entirely unwilling to put up with any nonsense and expected his children to know better than the merchants he dealt with. It wasn’t the same sort of power Mother wielded either: sly and quick and entirely ready to catch any of them if they were foolish enough to lie to her, quick with a wooden spoon yet quicker still with a hug after their apology. But the sound of him reading settled Einar down. And letting Salva trace the words as he read, and then having her try to sound a few out herself and her succeeding? Well, it was the first time Coram had really felt he was good at something.