#would I be lying if I said ccs changed my life? no

[benetnvsch]

I hope I'm the knkdog guy to u but also the guy who's so mentally ill over this one musician and her silly lil ocs especially -

[butmakeitgayblog]

I have a "What if" question that might sounds stupid, but I could totally be dumb and didn't catch the answer.

I'm reading your CI snippets and more specific the Bet pt. 2, they're kissing (beautiful moment) and Lexa tells Clarke that she has always wanted her (my heart is a puddle, great) but in the snippet where they fight because of CC (Cunt-Costia) Clarke actually ask a really interesting question: what would have happened if Costia never broke up with Lexa?

And yes, Lexa is super soft and vulnerable in her answer and she told Clarke (one of my favorite moment of ALL times, among all the ff I ever read) that she wouldn't survive losing Clarke (and that's why I think she'll be livid when Clarke does that accident with her car) but she never actually answer the exact question.

She told Clarke that right now she doesn't need to doubt their love because she would never cheat on her because she really loves her (and we know how much does that mean) and she couldn't image a life without her because she wouldn't survive it, but what if Costia never left?

Oo I love a good If/Then

Ok so, realistically, if Costia hadn't broken up with Lexa, they absolutely would've gotten married.

Raven was not lying that the two had been talking about the idea in the not-entirely distant future. And Lexa meant what she said when she told Clarke that she had been happy enough with Cos. Enough at least to choose that path for herself once upon a time. With Costia she was safe, and that's exactly what she wanted at that time. A wife who she more or less loved, who she was generally fond of and got along with, and who she was sexually compatible to. She had no real vulnerabilities with Costia. They had the same circle of friends, Costia had her own wealth and status that only helped amplify Lexa's own. Cos was exactly the kind of girl everyone expected Lexa to end up with, and she was perfectly fine with that.

She probably would've been unfaithful, but not because Lexa isn't a one-woman woman, but rather because eventually she would've felt bored and unfulfilled. Tho that would've been an understanding between them. Costia keeps whatever lovers she feels like having to herself, and Lexa would do the same. They'd be the quintessential Old Money marriage of two people who were together for fun, status, and convenience, with all of the usual bullshit that came along with it.

It would've been a shrewd marriage. A safe one.

One Lexa could never get hurt in.

Clarke would've kept going exactly how she was. She would've eventually straightened up enough to follow her father into finance and investment, and hated every goddamn minute of it. She would've kept on "not doing relationships" and left an even longer string of men and women in her wake. Her life would've been more or less unremarkable, nothing exceptional, beyond being a pitbull in her chosen profession. She would've been extremely successful, but lonely, and still entirely convinced she wasn't worth being loved.

They would've drifted even further than they were to begin with. Lexa - settling into her own little life of nonstop work and playing the doting wife, in between fucking her mistresses after hours and picturesque weekends with the in-laws in the Hamptons. Clarke - drowning herself in work and money, weekends of sex and top shelf bourbon. No calls, no Christmas cards, no visits home to check on the parents. Neither ever really acknowledging that the other one existed, much less having any kind of contact.

But when their parents pass?

When that evil bitch and the dipshit both go?

Meeting again at the funeral?

That'd be the moment that everything changes.

Because Lexa sits next to Clarke at the service smelling like the most intoxicatingly delicate cologne Clarke's ever smelled in her goddamn life. It's feminine, but muskier than she remembers the girl having smelled like so many years before. More mature. She thinks it suits her. But fuck, Lexa's still all legs and sharp jawline and those eyes that just scream of danger. The poutiness of her lips is really hard not to stare at when Lexa sits there so bored it's like she could fall asleep.

There's something comforting in knowing that, even after so much time and knowing how Lexa had spent the years playing house, she still sees through the bullshit fakeness of all this. Just like Clarke does.

What Clarke wouldn't know is that Lexa would've chosen that seat entirely on purpose, though she would've told herself it was just in the interest of annoying her estranged stepsister. Not because the sight of Clarke in her skin tight blazer and short skirt made her heart jump up into her throat like she was 17 again. Not because Clarke looks like the epitome of money and sex. Or like she doesn't give a fuck about the fact their last ties to their old lives are finally 6ft further out of their minds.

A few whispered jibes and morbid jokes to follow a few predictable insults would have them smiling. Because some things never change, even when so much else has.

And those insults would turn into plans to meet for coffee and coffee would turn into a lunch. A lunch spent actually talking like adults. Like strangers, but not quite, who are actually taking the time to get acquainted. Catching up about where they've been (despite them both vaguely knowing through the grapevine in one way or another) and what they've been doing. Who they've been doing. Comparing notes and unfortunately shared notches on their individual bedposts, though that subject dies quickly in lieu of just shameless flirting.

Because some things really never change.

That lunch would become lunches, would become meeting up whenever the hell they feel like. Visits to each other's offices and dinners spent behind closed doors, just the two of them locked away. All it'd take is one wrong look and the exact right thing to say, one too many touches that linger, and they'd be shamelessly fucking on every surface that would hold them.

Except unlike the trysts and flings they've had over the years with others... it's never just sex. Never. Not with them. And Lexa admits that one night, after months of lunches and dinners and stolen trips away together that they each blame on work, when she really realizes just how deep in fucking trouble she is. When she admits that this was why she didn't let anything happen when they were younger.

Because everybody has always been just everybody.

But Clarke?

She's Clarke.

That's when they both realize Lexa needs to find a really good divorce attorney. And that Clarke needs to get the hell over her fear of commitment.

Quick.

[memryse]

Au!Scott question! Wann give me the rundown? I've only seen some Fanart (which looked AWESOME) but I don't even know what au stands for >< so if u wanna give me an introduction...? that'd be epic uwu

ive tried posting this like three times now and i think it just doesn’t want to let me include a clip so you’ll all have to do without sorry

ausmp = area unknown smp! it’s guqqie’s server, i don’t know too much about it beyond au!scott bc i got into it just for him like a week ago and haven’t gotten around to watching much else but the vibe i get is a sort of dsmp level vibe of “friends fucking around but also heavy lore”. nobody is fully human on this server and if you think you are? think again apparently :D <- soupforeloise didn’t like that one! scott isn’t in the server from the start and when he does join he takes the role of the main villain.

au!scott is, in cc scott’s own words, what alsmp vampire scott would have been if alsmp had been more lore heavy. he’s a demon, the ruler of hell, and also aimsey’s brother. aimsey is also a demon, but was never as good (evil) at being a demon as scott. they had too much love in their heart, they were too human in nature, so they ran away to escape both hell itself and scott - until scott shows up and finds them :) scott is just. yeah. pure evil here. he’s manipulative and specifically delights in making aimsey’s life miserable. he refuses to do manual labour and everything that he owns is stolen from another player. he’s smug and awful and violent to aimsey’s face (and later eloise’s) but to everyone else he’s the new guy :) he’s lovely and friendly and everyone loves him. nobody would ever believe aimsey - a demon who already has a reputation for causing trouble - over him, right? :) he’s here to take aimsey back to hell, but he wants to stick around a bit first. for funsies. he’s smug, manipulative, lies in every sentence he says and is entirely used to getting his own way. he’s continually learning that very few things - and people - in the overworld are fireproof. he’s immortal and, unlike aimsey, is not afraid of water… no spoilers but let’s just say there is a reason au!aimsey doesn’t like water and it is not because it’s innate to demons. so no fucking wonder he’s smug he’s basically invincible for now (in lore this will change. Outside of lore owen is really fucking mad about this and keeps insisting au!scott is actually also allergic to water)

other than lying his hobbies include manipulation, twisting other people’s words to get what he wants, redecorating other people’s homes with nether items when they’re not in and more lying and making aimsey’s life miserable and more lying. the redecorating usually involves hiding corruption in their walls. incidentally he does canonically know xornoth and has said that this is similar to what xornoth used - he doesn’t personally usually use corruption, he prefers manipulation and outright brute force, but he’s curious about its effects on overworlders. however as i said he puts it in their walls rather than like massive tentacles lol.

he has a rlly fun dynamic with owen too imo. owen is a ghost with a very inconsistent memory, and scott is very interested in him because he senses something darker in him. he keeps pushing to corrupt owen by trying to get him to steal etc but they’re both playing mind games with each other because owen is also extremely sharp and is beginning to cotton on that scott is perhaps not the honest, kind and generous man he appears to be. If youve seen the axolotl thing you know exactly what i mean i watched that at like 6am because i couldn’t sleep and my heart was in my mouth.

in conclusion i love minecraft guys that are just the worst guys imaginable and au!scott is so so very up there.

[thesimulacrumb]

Happy pills Q!mouse what if's

I've been thinking on what kind of affects the happy pills would have on Q!mouse simply cause I am in a drought of Q!mouse content so I made a couple "What if's" that I think are MOST LIKELY to occur before and after she takes the dreaded Risus potion

First I think I should go over what exactly I think it would take for her to take the pills at all 1. Empanada loses a life I mean we already seen how she would act her egg is downed imagine her reaction to Em's death, she said herself she is not taking them specifically for Empanada's sake so really the only way I can see her taking them is if something were to happen to Em 2. Her "Nightmare" Since purgatory Q!mouse has repeatedly referred to it as a horrible nightmare and tried to change the topic, theoretically if this nightmare were to get to a point of delusion or hurting Empanada, I think its possible [with the help of a certain bear] she could be convinced to take the medicine just to be a better mother for Empanada Now unto the Effects, these are what I think mouse would be like upon taking the Happy pills, from my own research and kind of based on my previous head canons 1. Zooted!Mouse This is almost the least likely but, For those unknown to CC!Ironmouse's streams she regularly takes her own medicine during streams sometimes this causes her to act pretty out of it which many viewers affectionately refer to as "Zooted" it is possible she could use the happy pills to explain this behavior. while this is the funniest outcome it would honestly be my least favorite 2. Musical!Mouse [Any evidence saying I got this idea from TGWDLM is lying to you I swear] Now this idea mainly comes from Ironmouse being usually associated with singing and all around liking musicals, so imagine after she takes the pills she starts to treat things like a musical i.e. singing at random times and acting dismissive of anything negative in favor of treating things like an artificial play. kind of like a Disney princess 3. Hyper!Mouse This mainly pertains to my head canon post that Q!mouse feeds off of emotions. So from my idea she would basically be in a state of constant Overdosing on positive feelings causing her to act incredibly hyper like the stereotype of kids eating too much sugar, Similarly I think it would also contain Sugar Crashes were she has a period of existentialism and derealization. 4. Silly!Mouse You know when she was totally cool with killing all of the Feds especially after Purgatory, so what if she pick up after Q!Cellbit's lil spree decides to go on a lil silly spree of her own, I have no real idea on how this would actually happen AND its not even how the pills work but it would be funny.

5. Fed!Mouse

Now this is MAY be a direct contrast to the last what if BUT we have seen that Q!mouse doesn't really hate cucurucho and is very friendly with him [albeit while also being terrified of him] along with having already done his bidding with her photography skills. its very possible that while being on happy pills she could very well more willingly give some more help, Who knows it may be beneficial to have a demon on their side :] Of course all of these could very well just not happen and Q!mouse never actually takes the pills and really just holds onto them for the aesthetic and I am forever cucked out of ironmouse lore

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[kitsu-katsu]

Wilbur shook his head, “I’ve never lied to you.”

(...)

Wilbur lifted his mask

“If I truly believed it was the truth, does that make me a liar?”

(...)

“That’s the difference between me and Schlatt. That’s the difference between me and Phil. That’s the difference between me and Quackity.” The sparks had stopped flying so it was impossible to make out Wilbur’s facial expressions as he spoke. “I have never lied to you. I have been wrong but never lied to you, Tommy. I won’t lie to you. Do you trust me, Tommy? ‘Cos right now I feel like you don’t trust me.”

(Excerpt from Hitting on 16 by Wilbur Soot)

So, in this line, Wilbur references Schlatt and Quackity as purposeful liars while saying that in his Pogtopia mindset he wasn't lying because he truly believed what he was saying would come true, thus differentiating them, and it's pretty obvious that he's referring to stuff both of them (Schlatt and Quackity) did and said during the Manburg administration (which he still has a lot of resentment for).

However, he also mentions Phil, and I haven't seen anyone yet say where exactly Phil's lie that Wilbur references is. Well, I think I got it:

VOD: Healthy competition, 25th July, 8:03

Wilbur: Not many people do. I mean, Phil, you don’t seem afraid of me, you’re not afraid of me, are you, Phil?

Phil: No, not at all

Wilbur: Good. Good, ‘cause I’m not afraid of you

I think this is where Wilbur is convinced that Phil lied.

He says that "Good. Good, 'cause I'm not afraid of you" only after a pause, in what I can only describe as a slightly distrustful tone. "Not showing his true colours" with that response one could say:

“I think, I think you might be a bit braver than me, in showing your true colours. I feel like with you, Ranboo, I never have to be guessing your next move, I never have to be guessing your hand, you know? I feel like life dealt us the same cards, and the difference is that you build your trust by showing people your cards, while I keep them close to my chest. And I feel like that might be the big difference.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 41:22, 25th July)

And this is also supported by the very explicit way in which later on the same stream he says:

“Can I be real with you, man? I think I scare people.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:30, 25th July)

He’s convinced that people are afraid of him, that his social limbo is ever-reaching and that everyone looks at him like they did in Pogtopia, that they see him as crazy and scary, thus, he’d see that Phil just lied to him there

“I mean, like I, I, I, I don’t think I, I- I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do, and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:46, 25th July)

“I’m living in eternal limbo, again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:36, 25th July)

“And, man, Ranboo, hearing you say those words that you said to me. Do you remember what you said? You said, 'I think people can change’, that was number one. And number two, you said you’re scared if people don’t like you.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:45, 25th July)

“Okay. Tubbo, I’ve literally- I was dead for thirteen years. I know it wasn’t long for you, I know it was only a couple months for you, but, thirteen years, Tubbo. Thirteen years of my life. I aged! Look at me, I’m not the same young man you knew!” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 20:52, 3rd Aug)

“I relived that explosion in my head so many times man. And, and, and I- I get that you don’t, you don’t trust me, I do, but like, man, look at me, bro, I’m not gonna do it again. I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna hurt you again.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 21:21, 3rd Aug)

As cc!Wilbur mentioned in that one reddit post (it's in the replies): Quackity makes him feel human, while "everybody's trying to get on his god side out of fear", he remarks Quackity as "Someone who looks at him, not as "insane" not as "evil" or a "freak" but rather just unpredictable. Human. This is exciting for Revivedbur. He feels human again."

Quackity and Ranboo are the two he feels look at him as a person, not as just "that crazy man from Pogtopia", that's why he opens up so completely to Ranboo, it's why he remarks this:

“I feel alive, Ranboo, I feel alive. Someone’s looking at me and talking to me! I’m alive, I’m alive! This is great.” - (Wilbur’s Unhealthy Competition: 27:22, 4th Aug)

Phil however, enters in the larger camp of "looks at me with fear" (as well as the camp to use him as a scapegoat after his death), he's in the larger group of people Wilbur feels the need to appeaase by having more obvious comeuppance:

“Dream is- He’s had his comeuppance, and I have not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for this people. They’re just waiting, they’re waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on, and, Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo. I’m different.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:07, 25th July)

This also is a lie that Wilbur would care about, because I've seen others mention how Phil lied about Fried having infinite lives, which was in reality a "replace the goldfish" situation and how Phil also lied about not killing him no matter what he did or said in november 16th. However, Wilbur wouldn't care much for either of those instances, as he saw him dying on the 16th as something good and didn't pay much attention to Friend.

But his father apparently lying to him about no being scared of him? About not looking at him like crazy and hopeless just as everyone else when he's especially struggling with feeling like he can't count on anyone on account of his social limbo? Yeah, that one would affect him alright.

[beeindaclouds]

Hi can you pls write being Cc!Skeppy's brother and they meet bbh cause they bought them food or something and they click and stuff. Also, i love how you did my other request, the rich y/n one, i love it so much thank youuu(♥ó㉨ò)ﾉ♡

Pls continue making awesome posts💖💖

Oh hallo again! I'm happy you liked it! Also thank you so much, I will definitely continue my posts don't worry u.u💕

I also very much like this idea cause I get to write more about BBH and Skeppy :D

Hope you enjoy <3

Being Skeppy's brother and meeting Bad

Click here before requesting, please <3

You and Skeppy, even if you were brothers, were pretty different

He was more extroverted while you were introverted. He is more people friendly right off the bat while you were awkward at first; and the list goes on

In little words, Skeppy is loud and you're more on the calmer side

That's probably what caught the muffin man's interest

You first met Bad during a filming of a video for Skeppy's channel called "My Brother vs Badboyhalo", where you were supposed to answer a bunch of questions while going in a maze thing he created on Minecraft to see who knows you best

But as you waited for Skeppy to count the points, you and Bad started talking and actually got really close

It was like an instant click

From that day on you kept in touch with the man through discord. He would sometimes ask you to play random games with him or just to call and have a chat

You would be lying if you said that the random day texts and late night calls didn't start some feelings in you. And same was for Bad

Skeppy, who was in the middle of all this, started noticing the changes. Bad always asking about your whereabouts and his own brother being more happy and giggly like a highschool student in love

He understood pretty soon what was happening between the two of you, but decided to shut up and let it happen naturally

And then the day came, where you and Skeppy went to visit Bad

[I'm manifesting rn]

Bad and Skeppy shared a quick bro hug as they first saw eachtoher, but once Bad saw you he couldn't contain himself and basically picked you up

"B-bad?!"

"I've waited to meet you for so long...you're much cuter in real life, y'know?"

"Ew, guys, get a fucking room-"

"LANGUAGE!"

That meet up helped you and Bad get closer and finally establish your relationship

Don't worry, you also left some alone time for Skephalo while you kept Rat company

And the rest is history ~

[kumaradosha]

I’m seeing a whole lot of bad takes and ignorance of past/present content and lack of critical thinking or ability to understand character motives regarding this most recent Dream SMP lore. So please, allow me to lay down some facts, some sense, and also some speculation of my own. This’ll be really rambly, because I’m tired, and I want to say a lot. Rewatching ALL the streaming perspectives now, my thoughts start here:

Considering Sam doesn’t want to enter the cell to dirty his hands himself, he clearly has some aversion or moral qualms about torturing prisoners, but Quackity has convinced him to go along with it. Quackity spends a lot of time before he goes into the cell repeatedly making sure Sam won’t have a change of heart and intervene, which indicates Sam probably has some misgivings. Quackity feels he has to remind Sam that this is for the greater good and to stand back and let him do his thing and that this will probably be the last time. These are all reassurances and instructions that would not be necessary if Sam were known to be totally cool with it all already.

Sam believes the stringent measures Dream put in place for the prison are just desserts for him to suffer, but Techno doesn’t deserve the same cruelty, because Techno didn’t enact those rules. And that’s why Techno gets baked potatoes from Sam, and Dream doesn’t. Sam clearly believes this harsh treatment is justified, because Dream was going to do it to someone else. He thinks he’s being just. Of course, allowing the torture, though not his idea and not really comfortable to him, was still crossing a line, considering physical torture was not something Dream did to his victims (and besides, there’s the argument that not everything a criminal has done is morally correct to be done to the prisoner regardless). That, he was convinced, was for the greater good, to get the revive book. Quackity manipulated him; he thinks he’s doing what’s best, but no, of course that doesn’t make him right or his hands clean.

Sam wanted the dog dead because it’s a security risk, especially with Quackity entering the cell with two other people. He killed it later for the exact same reason. Y’all act like nobody else has ever killed an animal in Minecraft RP; get it together. Is Sapnap also evil? Tommy? He killed his own cat. Random animals are not treated with the gravity you guys are giving them; it makes no sense to call out this one time.

When Techno raised the point that he would be fine if Quackity killed him, because Dream could just bring him back, Dream countered with his warning that Techno doesn’t want to experience death, judging by how messed up it made Tommy. What motive would he have to argue that, aside from actually caring about Techno’s well-being? If Dream was only thinking of himself, he would benefit from Techno being willing to die and be brought back to life by him, giving him an easy reason not to give the resurrection knowledge to Quackity. I honestly can’t think of a reason he would argue other than the fact that he doesn’t want Techno to die even temporarily or experience death--that he cares. Interesting...

Dream hiding in the escape tunnel to make it look like he disappeared too was 5,000 IQ, but he didn’t do it just to be silly or smart. Quackity literally threatened to kill Dream when he came back. Dream HAD to pretend to disappear, because he was legitimately in fear for his life. You saw how terrified he was when Sam found him, how he just immediately begged him not to tell Quackity. He was afraid Quackity would come back and kill him before Techno managed to come back and break him out. He believed that would be his fate and had to make a last ditch attempt to avoid that outcome.

Phil confirmed on stream that the blueprints Techno was led to via coordinates are for the prison. Not Tubbo’s missing nuke, like I’ve seen speculated.

“Steve is your polar bear” was written on stream during the “Prison Podcast” Technoblade lore. This is not a mystery. Dream said he wrote it down when Techno started talking about Steve rescuing them.

If Sam doesn’t approve of Quackity killing Dream, why doesn’t he just tell Quackity Dream is still in the prison but not allow Quackity in anymore? Quackity needs Sam to lead him inside, to let him in. Since when did he have any power against Sam to force him to let him in? I don’t understand why Sam has to keep it a secret just to keep Dream alive. Just don’t let Quackity into the prison anymore. Clearly it was a bad idea, since all these security risks happened while Quackity was getting a free pass to not follow the rules of the prison.

Dream casually walking in the way of Sam’s pickaxe to disrupt his swing once Sam almost had the bell broken gets me every time.

The rapport between c!Dream and c!Sam in prison fascinates me. Clearly Dream is much bolder with Sam than Quackity and still seems to trust his sense of duty to a degree. Sam is also more malleable, convinceable, his fatal flaw being actually listening and talking to Dream, even after it clearly messes with him psychologically. He let Quackity manipulate him, too, and he compromises too much. That might seem weird to say, considering the harsh conditions he has Dream in, but. He does give in to a few things.

I’m wondering if Dream wanted to go to the courtyard hoping it was less secure and easier for Techno to break him out of.

Sam has no reason to lie and gaslight about Dream being the one to suggest raw potatoes and sealing up the courtyard. That’s not in his character to do. So clearly Dream suggested these things. In fact, we have proof. Search for the clip of Dream revealing a teaser for future lore, with him telling Sam the hole in the courtyard ceiling for the light is a security flaw. He straight up says that. Update yourselves. Furthermore, are the recordings we have of Dream suggesting nicer features for the prison even lore? Are they in-character, or was it cc!Dream and Sam making plans? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t remember/am not sure. In any case, clearly the plans changed at some point, and they were Dream’s idea.

Dream said he didn’t realize how bad it was until after he experienced it. This could very well be a lie. However, it could also be a wake-up call. We just don’t know. Dream clearly possesses low empathy, and every person at some point doesn’t fully realize how poorly another being can feel in a bad situation. Sometimes it actually does take experiencing it yourself to realize how it feels. People can do cruel things to others before the empathy fully clicks. It is possible that Dream really does only now understand how harsh his plans were. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely he doesn’t care and is pretending to, because he has a history of acting, lying, and manipulating. We just do not know, and I think that’s part of the fun, the speculation. Note that none of this is excusing what he’s done; that bores me. I just like understanding characters and their psychology and motives.

Sam is ASKING if Dream had this prison built for Tommy. He is suspicious that that is the case. Dream did not TELL him this, because OBVIOUSLY Sam would have absolutely nothing to do with building a prison he knew Dream meant for Tommy. So no, Sam thought it was for something else. And guess what? It was. Back during the disc war finale stream, Dream told Tommy and Tubbo that the prison was originally intended for someone else (maybe multiple people, the number was not specified), but that he changed his mind and would now put Tommy in it (ha ha punny). Tubbo asked who it was originally intended for, and Dream wouldn’t tell him, preferred to keep it a mystery. Dream had zero reason to say this if it weren’t true. In fact, it would have been more impactful to pretend (or admit) he intended it for Tommy all along. Think of the horror, or even the betrayal finding out Sam, his friend, helped make it. So yes, there is every indication that it is the truth--Dream meant the prison for someone else at first.

And Dream didn’t argue with Sam’s accusations, because why WOULD he? If he didn’t tell Tubbo who it was for, he wouldn’t tell Sam now. Plus, he wouldn’t want to argue with Sam, make him more heated and less sympathetic, and risk him deciding to tell Quackity Dream was there after all. Dream has no reason to speak up. Let Sam think what he wants. Dream’s silence does not mean confirmation. This is not a new thing with him. He keeps things mysterious, and there is a lot about his planning and mindset he does not disclose.

Now, whether Dream made the prison harsher before or after he decided he wanted Tommy in it is up for speculation. We don’t know that timeline.

Anyway, Sam’s speech about Dream getting what he deserves is really delicious. All these people out here mocking Dream fans for Dream still being in prison (like Techno’s not imminently coming to break him out, hello?) and being told off by Sam, yet plenty of us are enjoying it, too, like?? Bruh, what kind of Mary-Sue-touting asshole likes characters who are flawless who never go through strife? Can’t be me. I love watching my favs through triumph AND despair, so this is all just a win for me, thanks.

It is possible to sympathize with a bastard who is highly flawed and wrong AND to understand his motivations without justifying his actions AND to realize he deserves punishment (though to what degree I don’t care to argue). All the black and white morality and taking one extreme stance of “this character is perfect!” OR “this character is wholly evil and only ever does things to be sadistic!” and polarizing the community is cringe, yo. You need to calm down. Enjoy the ride or like...get off?

Anyway, Dream is my favorite, Techno is my second favorite, I adore Sam, I really enjoy Quackity, and the SMP wouldn’t be the same without Tommy. So much love for all of this creative work and its creators. I’m having a blast.

[tkc-info]

Confession At Night

OCtober 2021 day 2 - glass

2018

“Did you know that glass is made out of sand?” Oliver asked.

Cal hummed. She wasn’t paying much attention to him, but rather was laying on her back —heedless of how her scalp would be itching with sand for days— with her eyes trained on the sky. Tonight, like most nights, it was almost devoid of stars; yet Cal insisted, like most nights, on checking for her ‘second star to the right’.

“It’s molten at a very high temperature to create a whole new material.” Oliver continued. He was rambling, and knew it.

“Lovely.” Cal murmured noncommittally “That means that if we set this place on— ah, there!”

She clutched his shoulder (not his hoodie; she was wearing that) and yanked him down to the sand. Then, she pointed up at two stars in particular. “‘Second to the right, and straight on till morning’. That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to Neverland.” she slapped his pectoral “I told you today was the day I’d find it.”

Oliver snorted. His parents had decided to bring them to a beach outing so that they would destress from school. Oliver, of course, knew the trip was but a plan to get him to see whether Cal was Saz, but Cal had proudly declared today would be her lucky day because ‘beaches weren’t all that polluted and shit’.

“I thought the place was called Wonderland.” he said as he propped himself up on his shoulders. Just to annoy Cal.

And indeed, Cal was close to enraged. “Neverland, asshole.” she lightly kicked him “Don’t compare a piece of art to such bloody rubbish.” she groaned, then sat up “Really, I don’t know what kind of crack Lewis Carroll was on when he wrote those books. I finished Alice Through The Looking Glass last week, and it’s all nonsensical. She goes through a mirror and ends up in a world similar to her own, but where giant insects take the train and laws are impossibly alien? Oliver, dude, what does jam tomorrow and jam yesterday but not jam today mean?”

Oliver shrugged. “As if I knew.”

But Cal’s words secretly bothered him. In his current state of tension, he couldn’t help but think of his homeland. Her homeland.

Mirror was a reflection of the only world Cal had ever known. In a metaphorical sense, a thin coat of glass separated her reality and the life she should have lived as Saz. The Kinship was much like the literary world she found so nonsensical: a united nation hidden in the depths of the Earth, twisted conservatism, beings who could pretty much become talking insects, people who could bend reality in unimaginable ways…

Cal stood up and walked to the freezing sea as a familiar guilt enveloped Oliver. There was also a wall of glass standing between his best friend and him. A one-way mirror that showed him everything about her, and her only what he was allowed to show Aboveground.

Heck, Oliver knew more about Cal than Cal herself. He knew what her parents were —had been— the position her aunts and uncles had in The Kinship, the friends that so fervently wished for her safety… and a dozen other secrets she should’ve been entitled to knowing.

Oliver looked at the sand, hesitating momentarily before deciding to go for it.

‘I’m sorry’, he wrote. In Sazla; Oliver may have grown up in Aboveground London, but Sazla still was his native tongue and the one he felt the most comfortable in.

The guilt over lying to Cal had began gnawing at him when he was around eight. At the time, he’d promised himself never to keep non-Saz secrets from her. He’d succeeded. At least for the most part. Recently he’d realised something about himself he needed to tell someone —Cal— but whenever the opportunity to tell his secret to her arose, Oliver always backed down.

Cal came back to him with her legs freezing wet; on her hands, the bottle of iced tea she’d buried underwater a few minutes ago. She plopped down on the sand, opened the bottle and chugged down half its contents. “Tea?” she offered Oliver, who took the bottle but didn’t move to drink from it.

This morning he’d promised himself he’d tell Cal that secret of his. No matter what. Oliver knew he had to tell her or else he’d explode.

“Oliver, what’s wrong?” Cal’s laidback demeanour promptly disappeared as she noticed the change in Oliver. Gingerly, her hand moved to grab his —Oliver noticed she’d began doing that when she wanted to comfort but didn’t have the necessary words.

Oliver squeezed her hand gratefully; closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “I want to tell you something.” he opened his eyes and turned to her “Mind you, I’m irrationally scared of telling you this.”

Cal tensed. Oliver wasn’t allowed to do this, but he reached out to her and willed her shoulders to relax ever so slightly. Using his insignia helped release some of his own tension, and when he next spoke, his voice didn’t sound as scared as he’d feared. “I’m bisexual.”

He studied Cal’s face to see her reaction. At first, she only blinked at him —processing the information— but a second after his confession, she exhaled as if tremendously relieved. She used her free hand to also take Oliver’s, and pressed her forehead to his arm. Oliver could feel her silent laughter.

“Cal?” Oliver asked “Did you hear me? I’m bi.”

“Yes, yes. I did.” Cal drew back and met his eyes, a small smile grazed her lips “I just— Oliver I thought you were going to tell me you’d been diagnosed with something, or were moving to —I don’t know— Gloucestershire.” she smiled at him “But you’re bi. That’s amazing, dude.”

“Really?”

It was as if a part of the weigh he’d been carrying since childhood had been lifted off his shoulders; and if Oliver couldn’t quite walk straight, he now could at least walk on lighter feet.

“Of course it’s amazing.”

It wasn’t only that keeping unnecessary secrets from Cal hurt him. He had needed to tell someone, and to be reassured that his bisexuality was valid. No Saz would ever care about him not being straight, but Oliver lived at the other side of the wall of glass.

He’d heard his classmates say horrible things about queer people, and was terrified of what their reaction to him would be. Clara and Carter Whitaker always told their son not to care about his inferior’s ‘senseless bigotry’, but Oliver had to care. Otherwise he’d become the target of their hatefulness.

“Are you going to come out to everyone?” Cal eventually asked.

A breeze of salty air pulled her hair backwards, allowing Oliver to fully see her face: Cal’s eyes shone with fondness, and something else. Was it…? But no.

“I have to, don’t I?” Oliver shrugged; half achieving the confident tone he’d been going for.

“No.” Cal snorted, but wiggled closer to him “Your bisexuality is yours to share. No one’s entitled to knowing your secrets.”

“I know that. But I want to be out —or at least reach a point where if people don’t know I’m bi, then that’s on them— and talk about boys comfortably.”

Oliver didn’t ask for anything too extravagant, just to be recognised and respected. That wasn’t too hard, was it? His classmates and teachers would surely understand him.

But Cal frowned at him. Oliver thought she’d say something, but the only thing she did was lean against his shoulder silently. “I’ll kill whoever’s homophobic or biphobic to you.” she eventually said.

Oliver snorted. “You’re the best, CC.” he thanked, putting his arm around her shoulders and briefly kissing the top of her head.

“Oh, come on, don’t cover my hair in saliva.” Cal protested, but didn’t move.

“It’s already full of sand. How are you even going to get it off?”

Cal rolled her eyes. “You. I’m helping you dye your hair, you’re helping me wash mine.”

“Hm.”

The two sat in silence, then. Oliver allowed himself a contented smile as he basked in his first moments of being out. This was good, he thought. Just the feeling of being accepted and loved unquestioningly. And Cal had said it was amazing that he was bi. Oliver felt on top of the world.

“Oliver?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her. “Prepare to hear it many more times. ‘I am bisexual’; it sounds good, doesn’t it?”

@oc-growth-and-development @wagnerthedragon @iloveallmyocs @littleturtle95

[enneamage]

Any thoughts related to tommy's role-playing on the dsmp?

Nowhere near as sensational as Wilbur but there's interesting little nuggets lying around.

C!Tommy might not have started out as a character on purpose but I’ve talked before about how he had an era (that may now be coming to a close) of extending his Three Disintegration habits into a stream persona. It’s muddy because it’s a facet of him but it’s also just a bit he does really well, and the difference between Tommy and c!Tommy originated from the fact that flesh and blood Tommy isn’t actually living in Minecraft.

I would say that what you see is what you get with c!Tommy compared to c!Wilbur because c!Tommy is a lot less internal, but then the issue becomes interpreting his actions. I think most people come to the same conclusions, he was a rambunctious dude who wanted to make his mark and was willing to play dirty to achieve that. He was in his overcompensation arc, which wouldn't be out of place for an insecure teen on the internet, and then… I can’t say he mellowed out but he got very sad in character, which did map onto what was going on in his life at the time. He’s going through a lot of changes as we speak and I’m curious how they’re going to show up in the “volume 1” finale of his character.   

For lack of a better word c!Tommy gets woobified a lot and I do understand why, but it seems like a shame to not like someone for the entirety of who they really are. He was very ends-above-means and pretty brutal sometimes, more than he's given credit for depending on what corner of the fandom you're in. He wasn’t often my cup of tea but I could tell what he was going for in the early days.

I haven’t seen a ton of Tommy pov lore, so a lot of my lore exposure is clips and cultural osmosis which I know is dangerous when it comes to inheriting bias. I personally haven’t made many observations about how he thinks / functions from lore but I would say the odds are good that you would be able to. I know that in-character he’s talked about needing a leader so that he wouldn’t have to bear the weight of making his own decisions and directing himself when talking about Wilbur. He’s also talked about holding onto relationships and how he prioritises not being alone. Basically I feel very validated when he deep-talks but I also haven’t seen all of those moments by a longshot.

I will say that c!Tommy is a lot more mentally closed off than cc!Tommy, he takes whatever perspective-taking issues that Tommy might have (or had) and cranks them up to 10. C!Tommy highlights the part of him that gets defensive and self-righteous and goes to black and white thinking under stress, which became increasingly hard to critique as his legitimate trauma piled on.

I did personally check in on exile because I kept hearing how intense it seemed to people, and it was very interesting as the brain child of a pair of Sixes. It felt like the first drops of Tommy steering the ship in a writer way separately from Wilbur, and he was immediately like "Just fuck me up” and Dream said "say no more I got you." They both went to playing with the fear of abandonment and isolation knowing exactly how potent it was. People have talked about how Tommy and Dream ‘yes, and’ each other to new heights (and lows) as a duo when they’ve both got their filters off, but this seems to be the case when they’re playing serious as well; they both want to lean into the dangerous and the extreme.

The behind the scenes dynamic of Tommy and Dream always fascinated me because there’s this civil agreement to be mutually antagonistic. If I’ve got my facts straight Dream asked for permission to start the disc war as something to do in the beginning, and it all kicked off from there. I know it’s not much deeper than the fact that actors aren’t their characters and chat over lunch about their roles, but it must take quite a bit of trust to collaborate on such an intense onscreen dynamic.

I'm genuinely very curious what kind of writer Tommy is going to be in the future. (Shoutout to zombie Tommy, love to see an empowered young villain.) It’s too early to tell what his patterns are but he’s got a lot of intensity and tragedy-loving influences so I’m waiting to see what reflects in his future work.

[purplebass]

Why did Will want to save Lucie at the end of COI? And what this entitles for their relationship as father and daughter?

At the end of COI, Jessamine went to Will and Tessa to warn them about Lucie’s intentions and stop her from doing things she may regret. But Lucie, along with Jesse and Malcom, had already fled the Institute when Will went to the sanctuary, resulting in his decision to rescue her and getting James and Magnus involved because he doesn’t want the news to spread. 

Will tells Magnus that they are going to save Lucie because he believes Malcom kidnapped her. After all, she is only 16, and despite being at the border between still childhood and adulthood (the age of majority at the time), she would likely be regarded as a child from her parents until she leaves home to live on her own, or she gets married to someone. See, James already did this step by leaving the Institute and getting married to Cordelia.

Will is Lucie’s father, and of course he is worried for her. It would be out of character if he wasn’t. Even if Lucie wrote a note in which she said she was going to revive Jesse somewhere with Malcom, willingly (and we also have scenes to prove it), it doesn’t sit right with Will, and for good reasons. As Will points out to Magnus:

Will’s expression darkened. “Like hell,” he said. “He ran off with my daughter. Who is sixteen years old.”

Aside from Lucie being sixteen, Will also fears that Malcom has ill intentions towards his daughter, and he doesn’t waste time in enlisting his son and old friend to go get her. We, as readers, know that Lucie decided to leave for Cornwall with Malcom willingly, and Magnus also tells that to Will. He probably took them away at the end because of what she had achieved in the sanctuary, so that nobody would find out. Malcom shouldn’t have bad intentions here; he still needs Lucie’s help to call for Annabel’s ghost and he needs her to be fine to do it.

I don’t think it was casual that Jesse was revived right before Malcom, Lucie and Grace would have to leave. The reader already knows that Grace isn’t coming, so to avoid Lucie going with Malcom alone, Jesse was resuscitated at this point to protect Lucie’s interest, which is something important. He already tried to do it while he was a ghost, but that we know he couldn’t have done it anymore because he had faded. Now it’s his chance to look after her and to avoid that Malcom does something to her while she’s unconscious. Again, I don’t believe something bad happened here, because it seems like Malcom and Magnus don’t have a bad relationship in TDA. It’s over 100 years later, yeah, but Malcom wouldn’t have been High Warlock of Los Angeles if he had done something in TLH. I guess.

Will still sees Lucie as a child, but she is on the path to growing up, to becoming adult. He feels like it’s his duty as a father to save his daughter from someone he thinks might harm her, or that she may do something illegal like necromancy. He feels the need to protect her. She also behaved like a younger girl during COG, but we know that she is becoming secretive with time and her bubbly and optimistic mask is also cracking. Tessa also points this out:

“On the other hand,” said Tessa, “she certainly concealed the fact of her friendship with Jesse’s ghost all this time. She’s entering a rather secretive age, I think.”

They are not against Lucie befriending ghosts, nor they are surprised. What seems to shock Will the most about Lucie is what she did to Gast’s ghost that Jessamine witnessed firsthand: 

“That doesn’t sound like Lucie,” Will said, but a terrible prickly feeling was coming over him. He wanted to believe Jessamine was mistaken, or even lying, but what reason would she have?

The Lucie Will and Tessa know wouldn’t do that, according to them, to the Lucie she’s been all of those years. She wouldn’t be too secretive, either, because she hardly conceals her feelings in their opinion, which is untrue. Most of Lucie’s feelings are private, and what she shows the world is only the surface. And it’s not weird that the person who caught her heart was someone she could not tell anyone about. Some secret that was only hers, that she didn’t trust anyone with in order to protect the person she loved. But also, because everyone seems to overlook Lucie, so she found no point in telling anyone and sharing the burden. Not that anybody asked how she felt.

The point of this plot with Will, James and Magnus going after Lucie to rescue her, is to show that she has grown up and she is consciously making her decisions, however questionable they are. Because bringing your boyfriend back from the dead is also a questionable choice, if you think about it.

Lucie is not a child anymore, although Will may still think that she is. She doesn’t need rescuing because she knows how to rescue herself and that Jesse is also there as an ally. There are some types of parents like Will who will always consider their kids as if they are forever little until such children, they do something to “sever” the connection. Not in the sense of breaking up with their parents, but of starting a new arc of their life. We all have phases in our lives, and they are not fixed. When we, for example, leave our family’s home to live on our own (or with someone) or I don’t know, we get married or have a child, or any other act that starts a new life cycle for us, we are reborn again. It’s like a new start. 

So, I think that might be the case here.

Lucie did the first rebellious thing of her life (CC said in an ask that it was James, usually, the one who was more rebellious) and made her parents worry. And in Will’s mind, I can see it. As a father, he is protective of her. This is why he thinks she needs rescuing. Not because he believes Lucie incapable of returning to London by herself, to save herself. But because he still thinks Lucie as his small little child he needs to protect. Magnus realized it too, and I believe that during the trip to Cornwall, he may enlighten Will about this more, because the only thing in his mind at the moment is to reach Lucie asap, and take her back to the comfortable protection of the Institute/home.

“I would urge you not to think of it in those terms,” said Magnus. “Malcolm didn’t kidnap Lucie. According to her note, it’s her goal to help Jesse. That’s what they both think they’re doing.” He sighed. “Malcolm has something of a focus on the Blackthorns.”

Will looked intrigued. “There is more to this story, and I will get it out of both of you before we reach Cornwall.”

We understand that Magnus already thinks that Lucie might not, surely, need rescuing. And he tells James, who seems more reasonable than his father, that his sister might not want to be helped.

“You cannot save people who do not want to be saved,” said Magnus. “You can only stand by their side and hope that when they wake and realize they need saving, you will be there to help them.” He paused. “It’s something to keep in mind as we go to help your sister.”

This may also hint that Will’s relationship with Lucie may change a little in COT, and that he will have to let her go. That he will have to trust her because she has matured and she can make her own decisions.

[yumgrapejuice]

alright whatever i’ll go into it more because please make it make sense ma n 

Let’s unpack whatever the hell happened with Ranboo during the last stream—the weird stuff started happening in the nether when he took a before unseen path. I think it’s safe to assume his subconsciousness lead him to that portal, so it’s basically confirmed he can remember stuff from his enderwalk state, if not completely consciously. It’s interesting that this is when it happened, though! 

My theory is that since Ranboo was so focused on one question and kept pondering about it, his body took him to a place that held the answer because some part of him already knew, he just needed to remember. Basically, he was trying really hard to figure something out that he was already aware of, and we got to see the consequence of that. This leads to some fun implications—maybe that’s the way for Ranboo to find some other answers he’s looking for. He knows where the fourth book is, he knows where e!Ranboo wanders, he just needs to let his subconsciousness take him there. Instead of viewing the state as something completely separate, view it as an extension of himself that’s just harder to reach. As we already saw from the map thing, tricks aren’t going to work. Ranboo needs to figure the path out himself.

But now regarding Dream’s evil lair... When Ranboo got there, he said he doesn’t remember ever seeing it. He’s very confused, and by the way he had no idea about the revival thing, we can assume he really had no memory of this place or what happened there. He quoted four lines from the finale, though (one he shouldn’t have heard (”everything’s everyone’s ever loved is right here. If I can control that, then I can control the server”), but I’m just gonna assume he forgot about that lol) and eventually remembered some stuff, mainly about the whole revival thing. Very confused, very out of it, he said, “the enderwalk... that entire time...”, implying that he was enderwalking during the entire finale. Okay, awesome, great, let’s see Tommy’s stream of the finale for that!

Yup, it checks out! Ranboo was indeed acting sus af, the notable things being: 1) he was fixated on staring at Dream, always having his memory book out, occasionally writing in it, staying by the sidelines, never speaking (quite flimsy cause it can be argued each way but still thought I should note it), 2) when people went to the hallway of attachments, Ranboo stayed behind in the main room and only stared at where Dream was boxed, 3) when the elevator was going up with Dream and co, he was at the very base of it, looking up, until it was out of sight. Yeah, it’d make sense if this was enderwalk Ranboo. Great! Right?

Well,,, Ranboo streamed right after the finale. And he explicitly talked about what happened. How they fought Dream (without actually fighting—he remarked that was odd), how glad he was Dream will finally be put away, how he thought the server would find peace now. In his memory book, he’d written down about Dream lying about the Community house, how he didn’t mention Ranboo’s involvement, and how Dream was going to take Enderchest away. So, uh, at the time, he did remember the room and what had happened. Which directly contradicts the last stream. Uh

So, two things! Either cc!Ranboo forgot about it/decided to change it and just threw consistency out the window (very valid in this sort of storytelling), orrrr there’s something else going on here that I just can’t figure out yet. I do think it’s interesting how during the two streams Ranboo talked about things that he didn’t mention in the other stream (Community house and Enderchest in the first one, revival stuff in the second), so that could be something of note. It was rather odd he just... didn’t talk about why they left Dream alive in the first stream, even though he should have been aware (note: I didn’t rewatch the entire stream so I could be wrong about it, don’t quote me on that lol), and! If that Ranboo and this one in yesterday’s was the same one, he should have also had the same opinion about reviving people, right? Ranboo seemed very against the idea of death not being permanent in the last one, while in the one after the finale he didn’t even mention it. So, there’s that. Not quite sure what to do about it yet, though. It could be that during that first stream it wasn’t the same Ranboo, but then telling the two apart would just be incredibly difficult, which could be the point, but also? man

life of a ranboo theorist is just spain without the s really lol

[athrialuxegna]

Stronger than she thinks Part 5

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fanfiction  | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

Hi guys, I updated the last chapters so they seem nicer to read, tell me what you think about it in the comments. I also edited the links to the previous and next chapters as they were a total mess, sorry about that! I hope that you like this story so far, I try my best to readproof it, but some mistakes remain, my bad if it’s bothering you.

Thanks for those who lived a note on the previous chapters, it means at lot! -Lys

What was I doing? That question rang in my head as I made my way to the Child Care Service. I was not a fan of kids, they bothered me more than anything else. Their cries, tears, and temper tantrums were stress-inducing for me. They made me uneasy and self-conscious with their bluntness. As we all say, "truth always comes from a child's mouth" and that's what put me on edge. I didn't know what to expect of my babysitting day. Why did I accept such a thing? Eric, of course. I wanted to know if it was his idea or if it was just a sick joke on Max's part. One can never be so sure about others' intentions and hidden agendas. The leaders had the power to make everything possible within the walls of the headquarters. Why would they want me near orphans? That's what I intended to discover.

I played with my fingers, eyes fixated on the door decorated with drawings, tiny handprints, and a whole bunch of names. How many children find themselves alone every year? No idea, but it seemed that numerous of them had gone through that door to find a new home. It was not really surprising when we knew that their parents took risks on a daily basis.

Patrols in the factionless territory could turn bad pretty fast. The homeless didn't have anything to lose, they were determined to seek their revenge on the system that shut them down without any possibility to be part of it. I understood where they came from. They had to fight to live whereas all the other factions would sustain themselves without thinking twice about them. Except for the selfless Abnegation faction that helped them the best they could by providing them supplies, clothes, and from time to time, food. However, their violence had dire consequences in the Dauntless faction.

As the soldiers of the city, we were to protect and maintain peace in the streets. We were the first to suffer from the conflicts between Factionless and the system. These children were proof of that. I sighed deeply, my fingers caressing the weird painted animals.

" I'm glad you came here, they're really excited to meet you. "

Startled by Eric's deep voice, I turned around to find him, arms crossed, shoulder pressed against the wall a few feet away from me. A small smile stretched my lips, although I could tell that it didn't match my eyes. I wasn't thrilled at the idea of taking care of children. I have never done it before because I was always afraid to make something wrong and being an only child didn't help either. I swallowed thickly, trying my best to keep my cool in front of the young leader.

"Hey, I didn't know I was coming until now," I admitted in a whisper. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Don't be so tense, they're not that bad. I promise everything will be alright, they gave their word to behave." He reassured, eyes locked in mine.

"I'm not afraid of the children," I snorted softly. "I'm more nervous about me being around them..." I shifted my weight on my other foot before adding: "How do you do? I mean, with the initiates and… kids? " I asked, curious about his answer.

Eric snickered, I didn't expect him to be so confident and relaxed, it was as if he had done it his whole life. Which wasn't far from the truth, he had taken care of the initiates since he became a leader five years ago, if not more. I didn't keep track of time as often as I should considering my job but days were pretty much the same since I've been hired to be Harrison's assistant. I felt my cheeks burn and I looked at my feet, defeated that he mocked me for being a pansycake. Which I was, but still, it hurt.

"If I can do it, you certainly can, Chris. Come on, they won't eat you."

Before I could respond, Eric opened the door and made a sign for me to enter. I heard shuffling and whispers, all noises died down as soon as I was inside. The children lined up obediently, aware of Eric's presence behind my back. I felt intimidated under the scrutiny of their innocent eyes. They were of all different ages and sizes, some were almost teenagers.

"Hi," I waved, almost shy. "I'm Christine but you can call me Chris, it's nice to meet you all."

"Hi Chris." They exclaimed in unison.

One of the oldest stepped forward, his shaggy blond hair falling in his chocolate eyes. His joyful smile was contagious, I couldn't help but return it. However, his expression changed suddenly as he seemed to think about his next words. The younger ones kept gawking at me as if I was an alien coming from another dimension. I felt the tension rising in the room as the blond hair boy opened his mouth. Was he the leader of the group or something? Is this some sort of secret children cult?

It looked like it, and this boy gave me a lot of Eric's vibes. He held his head high, his torso pumped, shoulders behind. A future leader for sure... or another Brent. That thought made me frown. How could I compare him with this asshole without even knowing his name? It wasn't fair for the teen. I pushed away any unwanted images. Having a mental breakdown in front of the kids wouldn't do me any good. No doubt that Eric would report it to Max and I was good for an endless "vacation". The other kids looked at him with mixed expressions, some seemed about to explode from excitement or take a run at any moment to come back to their games, and some were tapping their foot impatiently as if waiting for a signal to be able to speak.

"Before we introduce ourselves and let you join us, you have to pass the test." The boy sounded much older than he looked at that moment.

My jaw clenched as I pictured Brent in his place. It was so easy to see the similarities between them. Were they related? If that's the case, I'll make sure to keep my distance. My eyes widened and I stole a glance at Eric who was smirking. He only shrugged his shoulders when he met my eyes. Damn him, he should have warned me beforehand.

"Depends on what this… test is."

What would they want me to do or say? The blond boy made a sign and all children moved in sync to gather around him, whispering between them to come to an agreement. What was that? After several seconds of heated debates, they finally took their original place. Mini soldiers, perfect future initiates, are already programmed to fulfill the faction's goals. Was it Eric's doing? All these questions drove me insane, I wanted to turn around and talk to the leader alone.

I needed some clarification on what's going on and the rules of this Child Care Service. While I was thinking of it, I didn't see any worker or nurse on my way here. Did nobody care about these kids? Was it a wicked way to push me to take the job? I was so lost that I didn't register that the teenager had taken another step forward, standing right in front of me. He was almost eye level to me, he had to be at least fifteen if not more.

"So, Chris. If you want to become one of us, you have to answer one question." The boy paused to look me dead in the eyes. "What do you think of Eric?"

I blinked a few times, unable to comprehend his question. He curled an eyebrow in defiance, a smirk playing on his lips. His expression matched Brent's perfectly, so much that I shuddered. Heat rose in my cheeks, coloring my skin a deep red, I felt hot and cold, shivers running down my spine. I gathered all my courage to not react when I caught a glimpse of satisfaction in his irises. I won't let this brat get to me that easily. In truth, I was a complete wreck Brent and the boy morphed into the same person in my mind, that same wolfish grin on their lips. I slapped myself mentally to snap out of it. I needed to answer that stupid question or else they'll consider me weak and that wasn't an option.

"Cat got your tongue?" Teased the teenager, arms now crossed over his chest, surely imitating Eric's posture, but lacking his charisma.

" No, I… I didn't expect that kind of question, that's all." I felt Eric's eyes boring into my skull from behind. "We don't work a lot together so I don't think I know him as well as you do, but I trust him, he's a good person, even though he's almost always in a bad mood. I also like his jokes." I added more quieter so that the leader couldn't hear me properly. "Don't tell him that I said that but, sometimes, he's not funny but I laugh anyway to not make him feel bad."

I think I gained some extra points with my remark because the kids burst into laughter, clutching their sides as if recalling the infamous jokes of Eric. I tried my best to smile when the blond boy extended his hand to shake mine. His hold was strong and confident, showing me clearly that I just entered his territory.

"Congratulations, Chris, you're welcomed in the CCS." He bent over to whisper softly in my ear. "Eric didn't lie, you truly are beautiful."

Stunned by his boldness, I stared at him, fear evident in my eyes. Wrong move. Something flickered in his eyes, a malicious glint that made me want to run for my life. What he said took time to reach my mind. Eric told him that I was beautiful? I blushed uncontrollably, his smile grew wider, believing that he was the one to have this effect on me. I opened my mouth to retaliate but he beat me to it.

"I'm Aidan by the way. I'm sure we'll get along very well." He called over his shoulder as he turned on his heels and joined the older ones.

Petrified, I jumped out of my skin when Eric's hand found my shoulder. He put it back right away as if I just burned him. His worried eyes plunged into mine and I knew that I was screwed again. Eric was able to pick up that something was wrong. Something that we couldn't discuss in front of the kids.

"Don't let Aidan get to your head, he just likes to mess with everyone. He's a good boy when you get to know him."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I replied dryly, unconvinced.

One by one, the children came to introduce themselves. There were so many names to remember and faces to attach them to, I started to feel a pounding headache making its way into my brain. At least, it helped me get my mind off Aidan and Brent. I already had a fan club following me like lost puppies around the room. Everytime I turned around they would hide behind furniture, playing innocent. This routine kept going for some time before I got tired of walking aimlessly. The only one following me without even hiding it was a little girl who hasn't said a word since my entrance. I crouched down to her level, a reassuring smile on my lips as she cowered a little from me.

"You didn't tell me your name before," I said gently.

She just looked at me, clutching a stuffed bunny in her tiny arms. Her emerald eyes were mesmerizing, I could almost drown into these pools of rich greenery, they were gradually lighter from the center to turn into a deep olive green on the outer ring.. She looked so small and frail compared to the others, I wondered what her story was. Seconds passed and she didn't try to make a sound. I finally gave up, it will take time for her to warm up to me that's all. I brushed her hair out of her eyes, revealing her porcelain skin.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, it doesn't matter."

To my surprise, she jumped into my arms and clung to me even when others wanted my attention. I sat in a chair, humming softly an old song from before the war. I didn't remember the lyrics nor the title clearly, but I could recall the melody anytime. The mute little girl was snoring in my neck as I rocked her back and forth. She dozed off minutes prior, lulled by my voice. I didn't realize that many children were sitting around us, listening and daydreaming.

Eric was sitting in a chair nearby, his hands behind his neck, eyes closed. He seemed different among the kids, less nervous and on edge, he didn't even have to raise his voice to make his point clear. The children surely respected him. The peacefulness lasted another twenty minutes before a knocking on the door stirred awake the few ones who had fallen asleep. I came back to reality, my hand entangled in the girl's brown hair. When did I begin to stroke her head? She looked comfortable on me, her hands held my shirt as if to prevent me from abandoning her. My heart ached painfully for her, she wanted affection and attention, as any of these kids.

"Chris." I looked up to see Eric towering above me, a knowing smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "It's time for us to go, the next team is here to take over."

I admitted that I enjoyed my day here, as long as we forgot about Aidan. The girl in my arms shook her head, realizing that we were about to leave. Her fingers curled around my shirt, preventing me from putting her back down. I felt bad so bad that I hugged her back and whispered in her ear.

"I'll come back, I promise."

She refused to let me go as I tried to pry her off. I kept murmuring sweet nothings to ease her pain to no avail, she was stubborn as a honk. Eric approached and tried to take her with him but she fought back, crying silently. I didn't know what to do so I let the leader take matters in his hands.

"Violette, look at me." The brunette looked at him with teary eyes, he gently wiped her tears away. "You know that we can't stay all the time here, we have to eat, work and sleep, too." Violette nodded slightly. "We'll come back before you know it, now Martha will take care of you. I heard that she has a gift for you, one that you wanted for a long time."

Violette's face brightens at the prospect of a new toy. She kissed my cheek then wriggled in my grasp. I put her down and she ran straight to Martha who was ushering the elders towards the bathroom. A contented smile crept upon my lips, kids were so fast to change their minds. I envied their ability to forget about their problems as long as they had anything to play with.

"Fear of abandonment, a hard one to fight against at such a young age." Commented Eric beside me. "They're stronger than most of the initiates that I've trained so far."

"That's not right, they're still kids, Eric."

"I know. I don't like it either, but it's their way of processing what they've been through. They grow up faster than the other kids, they have to look after themselves because they know no one will do that for them. I try to be there whenever I can, it's obviously not enough, you know how a leader's agenda is full."

"I can help." I blurted out before I could think of it.

"That's not why I brought you here." He replied without explaining further as we made our way out of the room.

"Thanks, that was… interesting and surprisingly calming."

"I knew you'd like it. So, you'll come back?"

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Right."

A casual silence followed our little conversation. My thoughts were drifting away when he spoke again.

"What did Aidan say to you?"

"Nothing to worry about, he was just being a teenager." I dismissed with a flick of my hand.

"Don't lie to me, Chris. I saw the fear in your eyes." His tone grew cold. "What did he say?'

"That's not what he said," I whispered. "He kind of reminds me of Brent. I don't know why but I don't feel safe around him. Damn, I'm ten years older, I shouldn't feel like this." I ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to keep my composure.

Eric remained silent as I stopped dead in my tracks before we came close to a more crowded walkway. He turned his head with an eyebrow raised in question. I sighed, debating whether I should talk to him or simply keep my struggles to myself. He must have sensed my hesitation, he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing to read into my soul.

"Stop doing this."

"Doing what?" He retorted, genuinely clueless.

"Your "I'm reading your mind look", it's quite annoying." Eric rolled his eyes.

"Then stop thinking that I'll report to Max whatever you say or do, and talk to me instead of overthinking. "

That was my turn to fall into silence, his face softened ever so slightly and I felt guilty. He helped me before I even was aware of it, I should be grateful and trust him, but I couldn't because I didn't trust myself anymore. At least, not for now.

"Chris, I've already told you that seeking help doesn't make you weak nor unworthy. "

My heart skipped a beat, was this his way of saying to let him help me? His cerulean eyes screamed sincerity. Why was he caring so much about my well-being?

"Thank you, Eric. I'll keep that in mind." He nodded curtly. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Meet me here at four, we'll go together."

"Sounds good. " We shared one last look, then we parted ways.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight, b4 CC #3)

“Ah~ ” Exusiai reclined on the couch, fresh from a shower and change of clothes after a max-Risk Contingency Contract mission. “Man, they don’t joke about those missions, do they, Leader?”

“Ye, Baws, yer r’ly scrapin’ the bar’l now. Can’t ‘magin ‘em get’in’ worse.” Croissant, similarly, had grabbed a couple of her namesakes from a box the Doctor had brought out for his team and was happily munching away.

Texas gave their boss a knowing look as she took a seat near Exu’s feet. “There’s another mission, isn’t there?”

“Yep.” The Doctor slid one arm behind her shoulder and rested the other on the Sankta’s leg, now bound to the couch by her lying on top of him. “I’ve got another team for it, though; you’ve earned a break, and I missed you.”

“Well, thanks, Baws!” The Forte hugged him from behind.

He leaned his head to touch her cheek. “Of course, of course...Something wrong, Tex?”

“Someone’s at the door.” Immediately afterward, there was a knock. “Let them in?”

“Door’s open!” He called out.

Angelina floated across the threshold, Sir SilverAsh behind her. “Doctor? Can we have a word in private?”

“If you’re here with me and the girls, you’re speaking in private.” The Doctor glanced at the door, and it closed behind his visitors. “How can I help?”

“We have already completed all the Risk 18 contracts available; continuing to pursue more dangerous work for the same level of payment is, as Rope put it, ‘whack-ass bullshit.’” Encio said it with a tone that indicated he’d never said those words in that combination in his life and would likely not be doing so again.

The Lupo in the room turned towards the Doctor as well. “They’ve got a point. More dangerous missions with no increase in pay makes no sense.”

“...This doesn’t leave this room.” The Doctor’s tone shifted deep into menacing territory. “Ethan?”

“Right here.” The Savra’s camouflage dissipated as he handed his boss a rolled-up paper, which he then unrolled and showed the three dissenters.

SilverAsh nodded. “I understand.”

“We’re doing these missions for...clothing deals?” The Vulpo sighed. “It’s a publicity thing, isn’t it?”

“Oh, wir gettin’ mor’n clo’in deals, Angie - investors, sponsorships, advertising offers. By the end of all this, Rhodes Island’s gonna be mor’n a PMC; it’ll be a true-blue business.” Croissant’s sell-milk-to-a-cow smile certainly got the message across.

The reclining Sankta raised her head to look around the room. “Besides, these folks need our help, right? We’re not just doing it for the money.”

“That’s right, Exu; it’s not just about the money.” The Doctor patted her thigh. “Any other questions about the Contracts?”

“Just one...Can we not do any more missions with the exploding spiders?” Angelina spoke the will of the people, as not a single Operator in the room disagreed with that plan.

Until Lappland walked in, of course, slamming the door behind her as she draped herself over the back of the couch. “Don’t think I can handle ‘em, Miss Zero-G-Cup?”

“Down, girl.” Texas pushed her off the back of the couch. “One Operator doesn’t make a team, and the teams are getting sick of those spiders.”

“I’m sick of them, too, but they’re the safest filter for more dangerous missions I can find - doesn’t matter how much worse you make the explosions if you defuse them before they can detonate.” The Doctor signaled for Exu to let him up, and once he was standing, a white-haired blur tackled him to the ground from behind the couch.

Ethan opened the door. “I think we’ve all made our cases. Kal’tsit and Amiya are gearing up to go, so they’re fine with the danger, at the least. Also only taking 4 other Ops, so if you two were on the list…?”

“I’ll go, too.” Texas hopped off the couch, followed by her Sankta companion. “Cross?”

“I’d make 5. ‘Sides, got some business to take care of.”

That was enough for the rest to leave, although Angelina lingered for a moment before realizing what that business was. From the floor, the Doctor chuckled. “It’s a dirty trick, but it works every time. Still, that’s the honest reason we’re doing all this; if we’re going to save the Infected, trickle-ins from one-time jobs and donations aren’t going to be enough, especially with how quickly we’re expanding.”

“Anything for a stack of cash,” Lappland purred, resting her head on her prize’s chest. “Anyone ever ask where your tapes are, Cross?”

“If ya r’ly tho’t I’d do that shit fer money, yer not rite in’a head.” Admittedly, the Forte was now lying on her back on the couch, looking somewhat expectantly in the Doctor’s direction.

He, of course, wasn’t going anywhere pinned like he was to the floor. “I can’t believe you scared them off, though, Lappdog. Silver and Angie, maybe, but even Exu looked bothered.”

“She’s just annoyed I thought of it first.” She drummed on his shoulder, keeping a completely incomprehensible beat. “Now, where’s my reward? I just got back from a Risk 21 mission with those spiders, after all”

“21? That’s an awful long time...You leaving, too, Cross?”

Croissant grabbed her shield as she left for the door. “If’n I’d known yer payin’ out like that, I’da gone on that Risk 25 just now. See you when I getta 30.”

“30...With her?” The Doctor’s eyes glazed over at the thought. “Maybe I should’ve stuck to giving paid time off...”

[thespookyintrovert]

When beauty calls

1,294 words ● Canonical, post S11 ● Just a short little scene ● Notes at the end ● tagging @today-in-fic

I hope this makes you smile and sigh as you read, just as it made me smile and sigh as I was writing it. I don’t pronounce it to be good, but I’m happy I wrote it. 

____

There is an exalted kind of beauty. It’s the beauty of starry nights, whether painted by divine hands or composed of swirling strokes on canvas. It’s the beauty of woodnotes, a natural symphony which exists only for the attentive ear; and the beauty found in a concert hall, made up of haunting notes rolling into a crescendo.

Then there is understated Beauty. It seldom reveals itself, choosing instead to remain enshrouded in banality, brushing only against those who dare call it by name. That diaphanous Beauty belongs only to the commonplace, weaving itself with ease into the everyday movements that make up the course of a lifetime. It is there, if only one knows where to look.

“Mulder, this is ridiculous.”

Ah, if couches were ever rewarded for being the silent witnesses to so many of these domestic disputes. If only the reliability of worn leather was ever a consideration to couples such as this, mindlessly counting on its strength to hold up their bodies and their words. But alas, an ode to furniture was the farthest thing from Dana Scully’s mind this chilly night.

She was focused on one thing with steady intensity, and that was ending a stalemate that had been going on for months. Ever since they had discovered the tiny human currently dancing around her womb was a girl, she hadn’t known a moment’s peace. It should have been simple enough to choose a mutually satisfactory name, but it turned out to be a matter in which they both had strong opinions. Opposing ones. With a sigh, she contemplated how the world kept turning and turning and some things never changed.

“Nag on me all you want, Scully, I’m not backing down.” Mulder’s smile was impish, his tug on her toe fond. She remained, however, unmoved. The bulging stomach between them, currently obscuring her own feet from view, was but one reminder that they had four weeks left to come to an agreement. Aching back, swollen ankles and perpetual indigestion added to the effect of a generally less than sunny disposition. She was no longer in her thirties, and every year of her 54 was felt this pregnancy.

Still, her fingertips traced adoring circles around her belly button, every kick to the ribs met with a grunt and a smile. Yet she kept it to herself, leveling on Mulder the stern gaze he had claimed from her as his own over twenty years ago. She did not want to let him do away with the argument this time. 

“Do you know why it was so easy last time?” He gave her a mock skeptical glance before turning back to his Sasquatch documentary, but it didn’t deter her in the slightest. “Because I picked the name, and you couldn’t argue with me about it.”

He actually laughed a little. “Scully, I’ll go out on a limb here and say that given our family histories, the chances of William having a different name were slim to none.”

She held back a longing sigh and proceeded to ignore him. “My point stands.”

A quiet snort, followed by the gentle clasp of his fingers on her swollen foot. “No, it doesn’t.”

She felt less inclined to argue as she savored the feeling of his fingers massaging the aches away, but still refused to surrender the attempt. “Don’t think you’ll distract me from this. Mulder, I’ve already proposed a perfectly reasonable solution: I get the first name, you get the second name; everybody’s happy.”

His look was wry. “Or I get the first name and you get the second name. Admit it, Scully, the second name only exists on paper, no one will even know it’s there.”

Her head fell back against the couch, for a moment fancying herself a long-suffering saint singing her frustration to the heavens. If only age had softened Mulder’s stubborn edge as it had softened the angles on his face; it was unfair, wrestling with the spitting image of his thirty-year-old self when she wasn’t even sure she’d recognize herself from twenty years ago. “Sure. Fine,” she said, head still stretched back, “you can tell your daughter whose fault it is that she doesn’t get a name until her 18th birthday. Assuming we both live to see it.” The last part was a dry murmur, meant only for God.

“Mhmm.” She felt his lips on her stomach, then, curving around its roundness with the stretch of a smile. Her gaze didn’t acknowledge him, but one of her hands landed amidst the softness of his hair, sweeping off any residual harshness with gentle strokes. This was their rhythm — the never-ending cycle of verbal spars that was as comfortable as it was challenging. No matter which one came out on top, in the end they knew their places to be side by side; with every smile and every touch the slate was once again wiped clean, no scorecards kept. Beneath the frustration, her whole being still hummed to this tune that was all their own.

And thus came Beauty, summoned by the unwitting siren call of a heart that chose love.

Finally lowering her eyes, the scene before Scully seemed to stretch until it wrapped around her entire world. She saw Mulder, face on her belly, alternating between nuzzling with his nose and sending whispers to the baby in a hushed baritone; they were not meant for her, but she basked in the vibrations of his voice, watching every crinkle on that beloved face as it shifted and pressed words into her skin. She saw her hand in his hair, noticed how it felt the same between her fingers as it did twenty years before. She saw past and future entwined around her finger in gold, glittering as it ran between strands tinged with grey. 

She drank in every detail as if at any moment she might be called upon to paint it from memory. Never before had that corner of the world seen such loving gaze; never before had the night breeze found fingers gentler than its own, or the cackling fire eyes that could match it in warmth. They were all silent witnesses to the most mundane of miracles; they, who had beheld for roughly two thousand years these rippling echoes of another miracle, one even more singular in its lowliness.

She knew they’d be arguing about this again tomorrow. She also knew they’d be lying like this again tomorrow, after all had been said and done, chasing away small everyday annoyances on the leather couch. Mulder raised his head to look at her, hooded eyes smiling, and her own lips melted into a soft curve. At the end of the day, their life together was all the more dear for being made of all these little contradictions, the seams an ever-present reminder that they were two individuals bound together by choice as much as fate.  

Perhaps it had taken them over twenty years to find their place in the world, to craft a life dictated by will instead of circumstance. And perhaps many, upon looking in through any window of the little house, would have concluded that the life they chose didn’t amount to much. But as blue met grey over the belly that protected this second chance they never thought they’d get, they both knew it amounted to everything.

Beauty left a little piece of itself in that unremarkable little house, nestling inside two hearts determined to see it in the little things, to call it by name, to touch it with the hands of love. It swept into the creaky floors and through the drafty rooms, kissed each smiling face on the mantle — each of them precious, so many gone. It blessed the little white crib and the old rag doll lying expectantly upon it.

______

Notes: 

1. I chose not to address the whole William mess because a. CC doesn’t deserve my efforts and b. this was really not supposed to be complicated. 

2. Let me know if you caught the little easter eggs sprinkled in there!

[hrtiu]

Foxiyo Week day 2! Better late than never! The prompt is Trust: safety, faith, protection. Sometimes, even the great Commander Fox needs protecting. AO3 link.

Nobody’s perfect. Even CC-1010, Commander Fox, highest ranking clone in the GAR, made mistakes sometimes. When pressed, there were exactly three mistakes over the course of his career that Fox could remember with perfect clarity.

---

“I specifically requested an escort for my trip to Bothawui, and you’re telling me no one’s available?” Senator Paulness asked, his watery eyes flashing in frustration.

Sithspit, Fox thought, looking down at his datapad. “Weren’t you sharing the transport with Senator Chuchi?”

Commander Fox stood on the landing platform between Senators Chuchi and Paulness and their respective entourages. Behind him a squad of clones stood at attention—enough clones for one senatorial escort but definitely not two.

“Senator Chuchi? When did I ever say anything about Senator Chuchi?” Senator Paulness said, hands on hips.

“Aren’t you both going to Bothawui?”

“Yes, but to entirely different cities on entirely different diplomatic missions! Do you think this one escort can be with both of us at the same time on two different sides of the planet, Commander?”

Fox looked back down at the datapad, his mind struggling to call back to his conversation with Senator Paulness from two months ago amidst the thousands of other meetings, councils, briefings, and requests floating around in his memory. Senators Paulness and Chuchi had approached him on the same day, requesting to go to the same system, but now that he thought about it, they hadn’t said they’d be going together.

“Eh, no, sir,” Fox said, already bracing for whatever ire Senator Paulness was about to unleash on him. “My mis-”

“I’m so sorry, Zinn,” Senator Chuchi said, approaching her colleague and taking him by the arm. “I told Commander Fox I’d be going with you when I made the request. When I first heard about your trip I thought we might travel together, then later I changed my mind and forgot to tell Commander Fox.”

Fox stared at Senator Chuchi like she’d grown a second head, though she had no way of telling on the other side of the helmet. She was lying. She was lying to spare his shiny ass.

Senator Paulness looked down at the blue arm hooked around his elbow, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead in surprise. “Oh, eh, well… It’s no problem, Senator Chuchi. An honest mistake.”

“I can get another escort together in a few hours,” Fox said, doing a few quick calculations on patrol schedules and outstanding favors on the inside of his visor. “Would that work for either of you?”

“Since it was my mistake, I’d be happy to take the later escort. Thank you for being so accommodating,” Senator Chuchi said, her composed features gracing him with an elegant smile. Fox resisted the urge to cough.

“Certainly.”

Fox got Senator Paulness sorted with his escort, then saw the transport off the landing platform and called in the squad who’d be taking Senator Chuchi. When all the logistics were finally done, he personally walked Senator Chuchi to the transport. He held a hand out to her to help her up the gangplank and she took it. 

“Thank you,” he said, just loud enough for the mic in his helmet to pick up and vocalize the message.

Senator Chuchi smiled down at him. “It was my pleasure, Commander.”

---

Fox’s second mistake nearly leveled the city. Fox stood on a platform overlooking the carnage the Zillo Beast had wrought, the sheer amount of work to do the only thing keeping him from boiling alive in a wash of guilt and anger. Over a hundred people, citizens and clones alike, killed by a beast that he and his men should have contained.

Chancellor Palpatine finished talking with the Jedi who’d helped subdue the beast, then joined Fox on the platform, the kindly face he always wore hardening just a fraction.

“Well, Commander. How did this happen? You told me this creature was secure.”

Fox tensed, his fingers flexing nervously on his blaster. Chancellor Palpatine represented the Republic in a literal sense, and failing him felt like failing Fox’s duty to the Republic. “We made it as secure as we could, sir. The beast was an unknown quantity.”

“There should have been contingencies. Backup plans! Ray shields on ray shields! Look at all these casualties,” Chancellor Palpatine said, his eyes misting over as they surveyed the smoldering city. 

Fox wanted to sink right into the duracrete below them and perish. “I… Sir, I… Did what I could-”

“Chancellor Palpatine, are you alright?” a soft, lilting voice said. “I heard you were trapped on an airship when the creature attacked.

Senator Riyo Chuchi joined them on the platform, her headpiece and elaborate hair dishevelled but otherwise unharmed. Chancellor Palpatine turned to her, his eyes widening and a weary smile rising to his lips.

“I am unharmed, thanks to the quick thinking of Anakin Skywalker,” he said.

“I’m so glad to hear it, Chancellor. And Commander,” she said, turning to Fox, “Please do not blame yourself for this incident. I saw that creature from the Senate building. There was no way to contain it, and it should never have been brought here in the first place.”

Chancellor Palpatine’s eyebrows rose and he leaned backwards, surprised by the Senator’s gentle, implied rebuke. And Fox… Well, Fox didn’t know how to feel. It was strange, having someone come to his defense, and this was the second time now. The deep well of guilt in his gut started to evaporate, if only a little, and his sense of personal responsibility for the carnage before him ebbed to a more manageable  degree.

“Well, ahem. Thank you, Senator Chuchi, for your concern,” Chancellor Palpatine said.

“Thank you, Senator Chuchi,” Fox said.

“No,” she said, reaching her hand out towards him. “Thank you for protecting our capital every day.”

He shook her hand, and even through his gloves he could swear he felt warmth.

---

The third mistake Fox made came very close to ending his life, but in other ways saved it.

He’d let the Jedi librarian—Jacosta Nu—go. She’d used her mind tricks on him and escaped. Fox wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to apprehend someone who could warp his very thoughts, but excuses wouldn’t work on the Emperor, or on his new disciple, Darth Vader.

“The temple is sealed, Lord Vader,” Fox told the imposing man as he strode up the temple steps. “What are your orders?”

“Unless authorized by either the Emperor or me—no one enters, no one leaves.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vader swept past Fox, his long black cloak trailing behind him, and walked through the temple doors. Fox stayed behind, monitoring the comms and making sure the perimeter stayed clear. Then the shooting started.

“Sir, we’ve got another Jedi!” a trooper shouted frantically over the comm.

“Don’t let them escape! Apprehend them by any means necessary!” Fox said.

More shooting continued, then several screams. Fox lost one, two, three men.

“Commander Fox?” a voice asked, a voice entirely at odds with the current situation. Fox turned around and his heart rate spiked at the sight of Riyo Chuchi walking up the temple steps, ignoring the troopers waving her away.

“Ma’am, this area is not safe-”

“What’s going on, Fox? They’re saying that the Jedi have betrayed us, but that can’t be true! I can’t get a straight answer out of anyone-”

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, right now,” Fox said, his teeth grinding in tension. She was not supposed to be here. Fox wasn’t allowed to have opinions about his orders, but one thing he did know was that he didn’t want Riyo Chuchi’s hands to be sullied by the kind of work he had to do now.

He signalled to Captain Dennet, and the trooper gently but firmly took Senator Chuchi by the arm and started to haul her away.

Fox checked back in on his comms, and everything was chaos.

“He got Sinkeye!”

“Ahhh!”

“Wait, wait! That’s not a Jedi-!”

Then Darth Vader himself descended from a broken window high up on the temple wall, his bulky body moving with a balletic grace. As the dark figure slowly advanced on him, it all came together in Fox’s head. The chaos from the comms, Vader’s orders, the cold anger in his voice—this was an even bigger mistake than letting the librarian go.

“Your men were shooting at me, Commander,” he said, coming to a stop right in front of Fox.

This will be the last mistake I ever make, Fox thought, his hands starting to shake in one final contradiction to the training he’d received on Kamino. Now, Fox knew with absolute certainty that clones could fear.

“I’m sorry, sir! They thought you were the Jedi-”

“Did you not provide your troops with my description?”

“I- I didn’t expect anything like this to happen, sir. I just didn’t think-”

Darth Vader raised his hand and Fox squeezed his eyes shut, somehow knowing despite having never dealt with him before that Vader’s hand was all it would take to kill him.

“Stop!”

Fox opened his eyes and all he could see was the back of Senator Chuchi’s cloak, the crimson hiding him from the murderous man before him.

“Senator, this matter does not concern you. Leave,” Vader said, his voice deathly still.

“I know that things are different now with the Emperor, and you may be his acolyte, but the Senate still exists. Are you going to murder me, too, to get to Fox? Because that’s what it will take,” Senator Chuchi said, utterly unbowed.

Beyond Senator Chuchi, Vader stood stock still, his mechanized breath slowly puffing in and out. He examined Senator Chuchi like he might a bug beneath his boot, and Fox felt sure that his mistake would now cost two lives instead of one.

“I will be telling the Emperor about this,” Vader said, then he whisked away.

Fox inhaled, the oxygen flooding his deprived brain. He didn’t even realize the power had left his limbs until Senator Chuchi caught him, her tiny frame propping him up.

“Commander Fox, you need to get out of here.”

“...But… We need to keep the perimeter secure…”

Senator Chuchi shoved him back so he was centered on his feet again and looked him sternly in the eye. Fox wondered somewhere in the back of his mind how she managed to catch his gaze through the helmet.

“If you ever see that man again, he’ll kill you. You need to leave.”

“I can’t leave,” Fox protested. “I’m Commander of the Coruscant Guard.”

“We both need to leave. I don’t know if this ‘Lord Vader’ will have much mercy to spare for me, either. If I can see where the wind is blowing, the Senate may very soon become powerless in the face of this new regime.”

“I can’t-”

“Sir,” Captain Dennet interrupted. “Sir, you should go with the Senator. She’s right—Lord Vader will kill you. Either way you’re no longer with the Guard, but at least if you leave you escape with your life.”

Fox looked around, and the other clone troopers nodded solemnly. His chest tightened at their support and concern for him, at the permission they were giving him.

Senator Chuchi held out her hand to him. “Come with me, I was already preparing a transport in case of emergencies.”

Fox looked down at the hand, the pale blue laced with indigo where her skin creased. She was so small and seemingly delicate, and yet she’d caught him each time he fell.

He took her hand.