#yay! first read more (<not normal in any shape or form at this moment.)

[aventurins]

@relightsmartyr, continued.

aventurine can’t seem to catch a break, even in this bleak landscape consumed by emptiness. contrary to his expectations of finding some measure of peace in desolation, each breath was a struggle; it took much out of him simply to survive. this was the price of seeing behind the curtains, he supposed: a price he knew he’d have to pay for his plans to bear fruit.

naturally, the gambler couldn’t have predicted everything, (what fun would there be in that?) but he’d hoped that nihility would dispense with the hallucinations of himself. he’d gotten thoroughly sick of those in the preceeding system hours. (he should have known better: fate has never been kind, even when it worked in his favour.)

aventurine, to ??? : of course i have a plan to get myself out of this.

loathe as he was to admit it, the knight of beauty did not factor into his plan. in his heart he had expected a marathon of wading against the current, a long journey of trudging through the black hole all the while preventing himself from being consumed by it, the tireless search of a loophole he could crawl out from.

in the blink of an eye, his expectations are subverted. a flash of brilliance, rose petal red on gleaming white, a hand reaching out—

they are gentle for a knight in shining armor, in actions and in speech. it is difficult to take them seriously, but the sincerity in their gaze cannot be mistaken, much less by aventurine, merchant by trade: any worth their salt possessed vast experience in reading people. aventurine’s mind is far too busy mapping out every fork in the road to bother protesting against the excessive care. being carried had its perks, namely: aventurine now has the bandwidth to think. whereas: he does not think this knight of beauty is unreadable, simply… difficult to take at face value. whereas: they were, perhaps especially so to aventurine, easily read and beyond understanding. he files away that observation.

dr. ratio: reverting to your old ways already, damn gambler? aventurine: how can i sit idly by as someone else does all the work? damsel in distress isn’t quite my style.

he thinks, everyone has a price. (how much did you pay for me? not for who he was, but for what he could offer. ever since he could remember, his existence was insubstantial. what he could provide, on the other hand…)

“everyone wants something,” aventurine says instead, watching the knight carefully, “some more immaterial than most, maybe.” as yours seem to be, he thinks but does not say. “i’m afraid i don’t share the same sentimentality. [ i ] (being) am of no discernible value.”

there is a part of him that recognizes that he would not say this under normal circumstances. none of this is normal, however, this knight of beauty is the most foreign being aventurine has had the honor of meeting, and aventurine is tired still.

the knight’s question, despite being rhetorical in nature, startles a huff of laughter out of him. aventurine tilts his head skyward and for the first time, looks into the heart of the void. “you don’t seem to want anything in return. then, if you would do me the favor of answering a question… why did you save me?”

[helisol]

dude im not sure you will get it after reading this either, but you Can read it now

okay so first of all do not expect me to adhere to rules of grammar or Proper capitalisation, I am writing from the heart

so it’s been said before by other people but if Quark and Odo didnt look like the aliens that they are but instead like two regular prettybois the fandom would do cartwheels over their dynamic and Not call them a crack ship. because really, their dynamic fucking SLAPS and I’m here to tell you Why.

their surface-level dynamic is “Respected and Talented Security Chief and Cunning Immoral Businessman who are in Love but pretend not to be” and that's just an off-brand version of enemies to lovers! which is excellent and for some people that’s all you really need to get invested in a ship.

but some people look at it and go “Hm, no, that’s not enough. I mean, they work as friends but it doesn’t really have to be romantic.” and to that I say you are Absolutely Valid, not everything has to be romantic.

it just so happens that these two fuckers have one of the most compelling romance stories ever, and it’d be a shame not to explore it.

so before I dive into the internalised homophobia and repression, I’d like to take a moment to talk about Quark as a character.

because if you have brainworms like me you can kind of see that its an honest to god greek tragedy.

this guy comes from a race of people where being kind, ethical and fair is considered Abnormal and Horrifying. and I’m not gonna call Quark out of all people kind, ethical or fair but,,, 

you ever notice how he’s A Much Better Person Than Pretty Much All Other Ferengi?

dont get me wrong, Quark is still a bastard, but every once in a while his True Character shines through. and I say True Character because guys,,, the way he behaves around other people is an Act. he’s pretending to be something he’s not.

he has to try so hard to be a good ferengi it’s honestly painful to watch at times. because he is a SHIT ferengi! 

he loves his friends- because that's what the ds9 crew are. they’re his friends! and it makes him miserable because that's not! normal! for a ferengi!

let’s compare Quark and Rom for a second. 

Quark reeks of self loathing because a lot of the time he just Doesn’t act like a ferengi is supposed to, and this drives a lot of conflict in the show. he knows how a ferengi should act, it’s just that he can’t!! fucking!! do it!! but he still tries and tries to fit into that mold, which straight up ruins his life on multiple occasions.

Rom is also not a Model Ferengi, but he lives without hating himself. and it’s mostly because he doesn’t care about how a ferengi Should act, he’s loved and cared for even when everybody knows that he’s a shit ferengi! because his non-ferengi-ness works to his benefit. it encourages and highlights his abilities as an engineer. the success and love he finds make it easy for him to be content with his true self. Unlike Quark, who doesn’t get unconditional love from anyone.

its so!! tragic!! because you can see what Quark is really like!! his true self!! he’s a nice guy who cares for people!

its right there all the time and it's so blatantly obvious. especially in episodes like “Body Parts”, “Bar Association”, “The Way Of The Warrior” and “Ferengi Love Songs”

his own wiki page literally calls him “a compassionate and generous man by ferengi standards” which pretty much translates to “not really a good ferengi”.

anyway so Quark is a tragic figure or whatever but we’re actually here for the REPRESSED! HOMOSEXUAL! TENDENCIES! that he and Odo both exhibit.

with characters like garak you don’t really need to have brainrot to pick up on those tendencies, because that was something andrew robinson chose to do, on purpose. 

and to be fair, Quark wasn’t intended to be Any kind of representation, not even by the actor. I’m just pointing out that he Does look and act and talk like a little gayman.

I will admit that he is Painfully Straight in the text of the show, but on a meta level he’s just. a dude who has a serious case of repressing his real personality. and taking it a step further- he also represses his feelings towards another man.

and that man is Odo.

a few things on him:

Odo is literally desperate to be a person. unlike Quark, who at least has the comfort of belonging to a society of people with a set of rules and expectations, Odo has never met anyone or anything like him in all his years of life.

like, we all know Odo basically grew up in a lab, right? 

with people who didn’t know anything about him. who he was so unalike that they literally called him “Nothing”

but he still learned to look and talk and act like them (because if he didn’t he’d feel *pain* which is very fucked up by the way?)

so we know for a fact that Odo wants to be recognised as a person- which is why he tries really hard to conform to the ideals of the society that raised him. instead of exploring his nature as a shape shifter he maintains a humanoid form, picks up a job and creates an entire personality around what he wants to be seen as. but not what he really is.

and that's the thing that causes all the conflict between Quark and Odo. the type of person odo wants to be seen as is the polar opposite of whatever the fuck quark wants to be seen as.

In the same way that Quark acts like a Normal Ferengi, Odo acts like a Normal Security Officer.  and in a cruel twist of fate, the Ferengi happens to be the antithesis of the Security Officer.

If you only look at them as the things they act like, and not the things they are, you might say they’re way too different to like each other, right? 

but,,, if you think about the fact that they’re both putting on this act,,, this performance of idealised versions of themselves,,, you can see that they are The Same. They Are Both Gay Repressed Loser Aliens Who Try To Act Like Things That They Aren’t!

Imagine you’re Odo. 

Imagine that you’re Nothing, because you’re not like anything anyone has ever seen- and because you are Nothing you don’t fall in love with anyone for years and years. since who could love something that isn’t like them at all?

But then one day this Thing shows up in your path and you just hate it. Because it’s not like anything *you* have ever seen. It’s disorderly and looks grotesque and it’s criminal to boot.

It’s all the things you learned would make a “Bad Person” It’s everything you aspire not to be, because if you were any of those things you would BE PUNISHED.

But the trouble is, eventually he’s not an “it” anymore, he’s “Quark” and you see him every day of your miserable little life because you live on the same damn station in space and it’s hard to avoid each other.

He also happens to be one of the only things in your life that are constant. He will never leave because he is stubborn and greedy and you just *hate him so much* that you’re convinced he must be doing all of it to spite you. And yet you also can’t seem to leave him alone.

So Odo Must Hate Quark. everything else is a non sequitur for him. he can’t not hate Quark.

because Quark is, and i’m sincerely sorry to apply christian fucking imagery to this, The Forbidden Fruit.

If he liked quark he’d admit some kind of moral failing. it would be the end of his act. but on the other hand...it might be a good thing, because at least he could have quark.

but Odo can never go through with biting into this apple because the consequences are horrifying to him. he could never have quark because, according to his performance, he would Never like quark to begin with.

and here’s a take for you: Odo's Brand Of Internalised Homophobia Doesn't Stem From Heteronormativity. It Stems From The Fact That He Was Kind Of Assigned Asexual At Birth.

and the show sort of alludes to this, for real! not just subtext! canon! except the writers used the wrong person. 

because instead of Odo having these Forbidden Feelings for Quark he has them for,,, Kira.

but since this is My Quodo Manifesto you’ll understand that i am 100% willing to just toss that part of canon out the airlock.

so Odo does canonically have that mindset of “no one could ever love me”  for decades he repressed any and all feelings of love to avoid getting hurt. in the show he breaks this cycle of repression when he takes a chance and enters a relationship with Kira. yay?

but we all know that aint it chief. and part of the reason why That Ship Ain’t It is the fact that Quark is Right There. and he is simply the more interesting choice for odo.

he and Odo literally share the same problem and have weird intertwined character arcs! they are both dreadfully afraid of not conforming to the ideal versions of themselves, so they reject everything that could challenge their Performance!

on some fucked up level they hate each other *and* themselves individually. and this hatred makes them reject parts of their real identities for the sake of protecting their image. which. yknow. in gay people. is internalised homophobia!

so you can see that they’re both repressing A Lot even if you view them as Friends, but the most important thing in this kind of romantic dynamic is usually,,, when the characters *stop* repressing.

and the thing is. the thing that Kills Me with these two. They Never Get That Moment. Thats Why You Need The Brainrot To See Them As Romantic.

The Ascent gives us an example of what happens when they both take their act too far. I mean, who could forget “Fascist!” and “Fraud!” That is what odo thinks of quark’s performance and vice versa, but we don’t really hear them adress the fact that they *are* playing these roles to a ridiculous extent.

We also never get an example of what would happen if they dropped their act instead of over-performing it. or rather we don’t get to see both of them drop it.

And the reason why we never get that moment is because there’s this one key difference between Quark and Odo. 

Quark knows that he’s constantly repressing his true nature and his feelings for odo. We pretty much hear him say so in the iconic root beer scene in Way Of The Warrior. he knows that he’s not a good ferengi but he keeps up his act.

So quark is aware enough to feel that sweet sweet self loathing. But Odo isnt self loathing as much as he is just self sabotaging.

and this subtle difference between them is why, at the very end of the show, we get “That man loves me, can’t you see? It was written all over his back!”

this moment is quark dropping his act and asking odo to do the same. he wants to hear a genuine Goodbye from him because they have known each other for Decades and they are Friends. but odo is so unable to express the feelings he’s been repressing all these years. that he self sabotages again and just walks away.

even though this is like. very anticlimactic. considering I just spent 2000 words talking about how Odo and Quark are Most Certainly Gay For Each Other.

The fact that their ending is so Weird is the reason why quodo is so engaging and appealing to me? especially post-canon quodo.

like, the amount of “what if’s” this ship has are Astounding.

What if either of them had dropped their act a little sooner? What if they both did, for just a moment, and it was the straw that breaks the camels back?

What if Odo comes back after a few years? What if Quark comes to get him?

What if, in that moment in the finale where Quark drops his act, Odo had returned the gesture? What if Gag-Reel Quodo Kiss.gif Real?

with the depth that I read into their relationship, those what ifs are really fun to think about.

anyway its 1 am and i’m not an english major so literary analysis is not like, my strong suit. plus most of this was written in a late night screaming session with a friend who has the exact same opinions as me. i just think aliens hot and in love. thats all.

[blazogirlsoneshots]

The Man Across the Way (Edmund Pevensie x Reader)

Everything in Edmund’s apartment was orderly and calm. Dishes were never left in the sink and all blankets were folded while not in use. Bookshelves were in alphabetical order with bookmarks tucked in each one. Every Saturday, Edmund would put on a classical playlist and attack almost no existence mess as if he were a soldier again. One could argue that the strict cleaning regime made the already empty apartment even more desolate, but Edmund would hastily deny it. No matter how lonely he truly felt Edmund would keep it to himself. He didn’t want his siblings to worry.

Edmund would start each morning with a cup of tea, a podcast, and laugh from observing the chaos from the apartment across from his. While Edmund’s home was orderly and something of a constant in the havoc around him, his neighbor’s home was the polar opposite. 

Their living room resembled a jungle with the number of plants strewn all over the place. Post-it notes covered the walls as a backdrop to the castle made out of coffee mugs. Every other day a newly formed blanket fort would go up and come down. Edmund was pretty sure that there was a cat somewhere in that mess, but never fully saw it. They would play their music a little too loud and have their TV on at some ungodly hour, but Edmund didn’t mind. The person across from him made his apartment feel less like some pod from some freaky sci-fi movie and more like something slightly connected to the rest of the world.

Y/N thought the man across from them was a little strange. He didn’t really seem to have any hobbies, just work. Honestly, he could be a robot and Y/N wouldn’t know the difference. Not to say that he wasn’t nice. They had interacted a couple of times at the convenience store across the street and he had nothing but pleasant. All little formal for a quick chat with someone purchasing far too many containers of ice cream while wearing pajama pants, but who was Y/N to judge. Y/N had even run into his siblings when he had first moved in. They were a nice bunch, if not a little loud and almost overprotective of their brother. 

Yes, Mr. Robot-Man-Across-The-Alley was a weird fellow, but that only intrigued Y/N even more. His siblings were full of life, so why was this one so different? He was the kind of person you wished would write a memoir because you just knew it would be a page turner. That wasn’t creepy, right? It was just Y/N’s version of people watching with a subconscious recognition that the man across the way was just as lonely as Y/N.

There is a reason we like zoos so much. We like that we can observe potential dangerous creatures without any fear of being hurt. It’s a quick no strings attached situation that most people can get behind with little to no thought. That’s why both Y/N and Edmund had been hurtling into a downward mental spiral as they examined the item sitting on their tables. 

It had started as a normal day. Edmund, going through the motions for the thousandth time while Y/N was ecstatic with the fact that they had managed to get out of bed before noon. They had departed their respective apartments around the same time with similar intentions. Edmund had run out of tea and had decided to treat himself at the corner coffee shop. Y/N had a meeting with an old friend that they were most definitely running late for. 

It had been an accident. Y/N didn’t mean to bump into Edmund and had most definitely never intended for his precious drink to go flying. There had been hurried apologies and the stuffing of cash into the other’s hand as they had hurried to get back to their day. It wasn’t until a very disgruntled Edmund had hurried away did Y/N notice the journal that had fallen on the ground. 

“Hey, Mr. What’s Your Face! You left your journal,” Y/N trailed off as Edmund ran off. He clearly wasn’t listening and now Y/N was left late for their meeting with a leather-bound journal that they now had the burden of returning. 

Edmund should’ve known better than to try something new. It was just one of those things that had a habit of backfiring on him. As he went to pull his keys out of his pocket, his fingers wrapped around something else instead. Bemused, he pulled out a golden bracelet that had been melded into a vine pattern. He felt slight stirring in his chest as he recalled seeing the dwarves creating other items similar in nature. He could almost hear the clinking of the harmers and the shouts of the workers. The feel of their soft wrist as Edmund wrapped the band around their wrist as his lips were met with a soft kiss. 

Edmund quickly snapped himself out his waltz down memory lane as the most important fact about this bracelet hit him, this was not his in any way shape or form and was most likely the person who had spilled his tea all over him. Yay.

Y/N didn’t think there was any way they could make their apartment any more a mess than it already was, but you know sometimes the universe likes to test you. After a rather hasty meeting with Jill, Y/N had noticed the lack of weight on their wrist and then proceeded to lose their shit. That bracelet was the last connection they had to a life that they never tried to remember anymore and Y/N wasn’t about to let that slip away too. Returning the journal had become the last thing on Y/N’s mind as they descended like a hurricane onto the poor, unsuspecting apartment. 

It wasn't until there was a soft knock on the door did Y/N stop their reign of terror. Y/N threw the door open to find Mr. Robot-Man-Across-The-Alley standing with a look of pure panic across his face.

“Um, hi. I live in the building next to you and-”

“Yeah, you’re the robot man. Can I help you?” Y/N interrupted with little to no thought about the annoyance flooding their voice. 

“So, I think I may have acquired something of yours. We bumped into each other earlier today. You spilled tea all over me.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry about that. Do you want some more money or something?”

“No, can I come in?” Y/N nodded and Edmund entered this enclosure of the subject he had been causally observing for a few months. 

His internal panic was cut off as Y/N let out a grown and smacked their forehead. “Aslan’s mane, I am so forgetful.”

“What?” Y/N made no acknowledgment of Edmund as he felt every system in his body shut down.

“Here, this is yours.” Y/N dug out his journal from under a pile of hand-drawn maps. “You dropped it when and I was meaning to give it back, but I may have gotten slightly distracted.” Y/N chuckled as they looked around the disaster zone.

“Funny you should mention it because I think I have something as yours as well.” Edmund slipped the bracelet out of his pocket and handed it to Y/N. He should’ve covered his ears. Pure joy flooded Y/N’s face as tears began to pour down their face. 

“Thank you so much. You literally have no idea how much this means to me. I was going to tear apart my whole apartment just to find this thing,” They squealed. “You are my hero now or something. In fact…” Y/N hurried into their living room and floated through the many plants. They then ran back to Edmund with a tiny succulent cradled in their palm. 

“Here,” They said breathlessly, “I want you to have this.”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“I insist. Besides you need something to liven up that barren wasteland you call an apartment.” Edmund blushed and smiled down at the small plant.

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“No problem, I’m Y/N by the way.”

“I need to leave.” 

Y/N walking away as Edmund didn't do anything. 

Y/N crying as Edmund marries someone else. 

Y/N closing the door as Edmund tried to apologize.

Y/N’s tombstone causes all of the life to leave Edmund as he stares in horror.

“I’m Edmund.”

 A/N: I have been working on this for three weeks and I am so proud of it! It’s kind of a sequel to Not My Proudest Moment, but it can be read as a stand alone. I plan to part two to hopeful be up by next week. Thank you for reading and here is link for some petitions for you to sign.

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[okay-victoria]

Love of My Second Life: Tanya & Romance

This is both my take on why, despite seeming like the easiest and healthiest relationship to write, TanyaxVisha is up there with TanyaxMary in difficulty level for pulling off successfully, what I’ve seen go wrong in fanfic so far, and what needs to make it/any romance go right.

Where to start, where to start...um, a warning, for obvious reasons I’m going to have to talk about sex.

The Age Difference

This has the joy of being a bit creepy on both ends of the spectrum! Yay.

Visha Being Creepy

Visha is probably 5 - 6 years older than Tanya. While as more mature adults that age difference is relatively negligible, Tanya being 17/18 and Visha being in her early 20s doesn’t make it suddenly a non-issue. If you and a coworker, both in your first job out of college, went to happy hour and you met his/her significant other and they were a senior in high school, would you feel good about that?

The age-of-consent laws in bygone eras may help your case for why in-story characters give a pass to such things, but it doesn’t really help explain it to your readers. Unless I’m missing something, no one is reading this story from 1920s/30s Germany, and so it needs to have the relationship explained in a way that tries to work for modern standards. Additionally, I think people tend to mix up age-of-consent with “people found this generally appropriate”. A 19 year old dating a 59 year old violates no laws in the United States, but that doesn’t mean that most people are going to consider it a loving and healthy relationship without any proof. Even your in-story characters are probably going to have some thoughts.

The final issue, from Visha’s end of the spectrum, is that even when Tanya is aged up to 18+ and has gained some secondary sexual characteristics, she is sometimes still presented as being an “eternal loli” who can be easily be mistaken for someone around 14/15, an age at which girls normally have some secondary sex characteristics, but distinctly immature ones. I imagine this problem stems from two places:

1) Scenes when Tanya’s lolidom is brought up are not the same scenes as the romantic ones, so the problem is not as obvious to the author and

2) Author forgets that “short+small boobs+doesn’t have wrinkles yet” does not actually result in people looking like they are mid-puberty. Without being really creepy, as women age, their breast tissue drops down and to the side, waist/hip/leg ratios change, and the face loses its baby fat, among other things. Writing that references Tanya as looking like a teen comes along with the unfortunate implication that she actually looks like she is still mid-puberty, and Visha...is into that, instead of being someone who is attracted to petite POST pubescent women.

These are all extremely fixable problems. Really, all an author has to do is make Visha acknowledge that it’s weird, and probably try to talk to Tanya about her reservations before she starts trying to seduce her. It’s the handwave that is the issue. For the last/puberty problem, unless there is some reason I probably don’t want to know about that the author only wants to write the relationship if Tanya looks 14, simply describe her as a petite but adult woman, and if you need to use her looking young as a plot point, have her make an effort to adapt her adult characteristics to suit or hope that nobody looks hard enough to tell the difference.

Tanya Being Creepy

While Tanya is physically the junior member of the relationship, mentally, she is the senior, and by a lot. Tanya knows this. While I don’t necessarily think Salaryman is the Earth’s most morally-pure man, I have a high enough opinion of him to think that he was not pursuing college girls when he was like 35. Tanya should also have a moment of thought over this, or the relationship needs to wait until Visha is closer to her late 20s, when she is approaching a similar level of life maturity that Salaryman would have felt was close to his own.

Even if you think that Salaryman’s logical side would have been eroded by his “but I’m a guy, I can’t help it, college girls are hot” side [I’m side-eyeing you], I think it’s very unlikely that living as Tanya, and being on the receiving end of that kind of stuff, wouldn’t make her reconsider her stance on it, at least a little.

I know, I know, Visha’s been to war! She’s not the same as some random college girl in 2020! While this is allowable as a partial justification, because it is true, it ignores a whole lot.

First off, maturity is not a straightforward drive. All parts of you do not mentally mature at the same time. If you want to write early 20s Visha as a mature-enough partner for Tanya, a bit of time needs to be spent on what Visha loses because of it - she never has, and never will, get to be that happy-go-lucky girl. While making fun of young women for being dramatic gossips, obsessing about non-serious things, etc remains a popular sport, thinking that you are doing Visha a favor by taking that time of her life away from her says pretty terrible things about how society values women’s relationships with each other. If you don’t mean for your fanfic to accidentally imply that, it’s something that needs some love & care.

Alternatively, you could write a story in which Visha, while being a competent adult, still gets space to explore her “girly” side. If doing so, you are going to have to make a really strong case for why Tanya is willing to put up with this, as Salaryman does not come off as someone who would judge it a good use of time & effort to be constantly letting his girlfriend rattle off about things he thinks are silly and immature - there’s a lot of other fish in the sea, why not find one that is a competent adult *and* isn’t often talking about things you don’t care about.

The Canonical Setup of Visha & Tanya’s relationship

Opposite Goals

In a nutshell, Tanya is presented as a person that wants to live a safe, boring, and non-notable life, is doing her best to get there, and is constantly failing and being stressed about it because she needs to figure out a new plan. Visha is presented as someone who has major qualms about Tanya as a human being, but has a nigh-worshipful respect for her heroic officer side.

This is a massive, and I mean MASSIVE problem. You absolutely cannot ignore that what makes the characters happy is diametrically opposed to each other. Can you overcome it? Yes, by slowly developing the characters towards a compromise, but you can’t just not acknowledge it and expect me to think this relationship has any hope of leaving both partners happy. Either Tanya never escapes her never-ending stress cycle, or she does, and the entire basis of Visha’s attachment to Tanya disappears.

This can be fixed by: 1) Tanya coming to terms with a new side of herself, one that wants to be that hero. This cannot just be a one-paragraph epiphany. Tanya is shown to hate when she thinks her internal self is being changed by her new experiences and she needs a lot of work to get to a point where she is willing to acknowledge this in herself.

2) Visha has to go through a rocky part where she second-guesses herself - she thought she wanted Tanya, but turns out, Tanya isn’t the person she thought she is? How and why does she decide that she likes the person Tanya has become? This is probably the easier route, but I think runs the risk of having an author have Visha *say* Tanya does all these other good things for her, but never really show it happening.

3) The happiest medium is probably one where Visha *mostly* adapts towards Tanya, so Tanya gets to live a quiet but not too quiet life, and Visha learns to love another side. As Visha is compromising more in this sense, a healthy relationship is going to include Tanya realizing what is happening and deciding to make an effort to appeal to Visha and not just be like “Take me as I am. Or don’t.” and Visha unilaterally decides to accept that.

Why Does Tanya want to be in a relationship with Visha?

Tanya betrays no actual emotional attachment to Visha in the light novels. While you can read in rationalization to the reasons Tanya gives to her actions, she herself does not believe that it is because of an emotional connection.

Canonically, Tanya is portrayed as liking Visha because of how well Visha passes the “usefulness” test. This brings up another MASSIVE problem - does Tanya, in any way, shape, or form, actually like Visha as an individual, or just  her ability to conform to the role Tanya wants her to play?

Look, I don’t need Tanya to be in LOVE with Visha in the way we usually talk about people being in love to believe that Tanya can be in a relationship successfully. I’m fully on board with a portrayal in which Tanya can’t quite summon that level of emotion. However, she needs to like and respect Visha as an individual person, and summon a level of emotion beyond friend with benefits.

IMO, it is really hard to do that without showing Tanya and Visha disagreeing on a major piece of Tanya’s philosophy and Tanya actually listening and responding positively to it, not simply agreeing to disagree because it isn’t worth upsetting her useful sidekick, or whatever. There needs to be character development of both characters - Visha finding it in herself to be comfortable rocking the boat, and Tanya having a compelling enough reason to change something that she has clung to for two lives.

Everyone wants to be a lesbian

While I get it, the Empire is not the exact same as Germany, and yes, I know that Weimar Germany was relatively sexually progressive, it’s really not something that a well-written romance should handwave.

“Weimar Culture” in many ways developed as a result of how WW1 went for Germany. If you have a story where WW1 doesn’t go that way for Germany, gay culture is unlikely to flourish to the same degree.

All that aside, Tanya isn’t someone that is going to easily shrug her shoulders and say “you know, sometimes you need to jeopardize your career for the sake of hot sex/love”. She’s pretty clear on which she prioritizes. A lesbian relationship is not going to help her here, and she’s going to be aware of it. She needs to struggle with that choice.

Visha not struggling to accept herself as a lesbian is also somewhat of an oversight. It’s pretty unlikely that a woman born in her time period would come to terms with that easily. Visha is also never shown being attracted to other women besides Tanya, which carries a weird “I’m only a lesbian for you” vibe that is like a gross parallel of a straight guy wanting a lesbian to be so attracted to him she can’t help it, she wants the D.

And now, we enter the realm of Tanya’s relationship with her identity and sexuality.

Tanya is shown to have mental qualms both about entering a straight or lesbian relationship in her new life. The reasons behind those qualms are not explored at all in the LN, but they should be in a story in which Tanya goes into a relationship.

No matter which path puberty takes her down, there is the issue of Tanya being comfortable having sex as a woman. Even if it is with another woman, it is not going to be particular similar to the way she had sex with women as a man. That type of thing is pretty tied up with our identity. Tanya hates having her internal, I haven’t changed identity threatened, and not being able to give sexual pleasure/needing to receive it differently is the type of thing that is probably going to come along with some emotional reservations on her part.

Again, sexual identity being a part of our overall identity, while Tanya may remain attracted to women, that means her identity is now as a gay person, not a straight person. Given her biases from both growing up in Japan and the state of gay rights in her new life, it would seem atypical that she would consider this a non-issue and it wouldn’t make her question her priorities or the type of person she thought she was.

But...The Sex?

Look, I get it, sometimes you wanna see certain characters bang. We’ve all been there.

While yes, I recognize that many humans make terrible decisions solely in pursuit of sex, and so it’s perfectly realistic to have Tanya and Visha do the same and say that’s why you’re handwaving everything else, it is an extremely lazy storytelling technique, especially since neither character seems likely to go to extremes for it.

Because people focus so much on sex appeal, unfortunately, they use it as a substitute for making a good case for the relationship. Visha/Tanya is so attracted to Tanya/Visha, that now they are willing to undergo character development, because the pulsing loins urge them to. Really?

Do at least some of it first, lay the groundwork for romantic attraction before you slam them with physical attraction. While it often works the opposite direction in real life, that undercuts the romantic side in fictional story-telling.

I also think that because of the focus on their attraction to each other, what ends up missing in all TanyaxVisha fanfics I’ve seen so far is the tension. That makes it boring, I don’t care about it, and the entire reason I don’t care about it is because the choice to handwave the inconvenient facts means there is nothing in the way besides Tanya being a dumbass, which you can only do for so long without it becoming boring.

They are both attracted to each other, and admit it to themselves. Neither sees any real problem with the relationship other than not knowing if the other person likes them, but they aren’t even hung up on it and mostly work on straightforwardly winning the other person.

When in doubt, blame it on The Patriarchy

As far as we know, Tanya isn’t pining for relationship, and never thinks about a romantic relationship from her old life. Combined with other things Tanya says, it is hard to imagine Salaryman ever had a “considering marriage” relationship - more like, he may have felt partnership had some desirable aspects, but probably never was able to compromise on his kind of extreme worldview enough to try to make it work with someone, just figuring he’d find “the one” one day that wasn’t going to make him compromise.

While of course, you should not need to change everything about who you are for a romantic partner to like you, saying “you should like me for me” and then putting in exactly zero effort to do things because you know they are important to your partner, even if they aren’t for you, is not one of the keys to a successful relationship.

While it is not a problem inherent to Tanya & Visha’s relationship like the above sections, it is a problem in all forms of how I’ve seen the relationship written. It fails to answer a fundamental question: WHAT CHANGED?

Why did Tanya want love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last? If she did want it in her last life, why did she successfully find love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last?

Unfortunately, skipping the answer to this question implies that nothing changed. The success is then entirely reliant and Visha, and that brings along with it a really ugly answer.

Visha’s professional I’ll-do-anything-for-you is equated to a personal I’ll-do-anything-for-you, and she very much accepts Tanya for who she is, through all the flaws that are definitely there and that presumably no woman in Salaryman’s life was willing to put up with. Tanya doesn’t have to undergo any character development to be capable of making the relationship work.

This has some really, really unfortunate undertones. It is the very reason why even legal-but-large age difference relationships often aren’t healthy, because the older partner, instead of trying to be someone capable of contributing to the life of someone their own age, decides it’s easier to find someone younger who doesn’t know better and is more willing to put up with their bullshit. That, then, turns into a creepy grooming undertone - you make the less experienced partner think this is normal.

It really isn’t normal or good that Visha should have to put up with a relationship in which she never discovers who she wants to be because she’s so caught up Tanya’s idea of how to live your life. That is borderline emotional abuse, I am sure no one intends it to be there, but without giving some serious treatment to character development, unfortunately, it is.

To me, this has some of the worst overtones of the worst types of male fantasy - My Manic Pixie Dream Girl is completely devoted to me, and instead of emotionally adding to her life and/or our relationship, she is completely fine with me substituting being a Strong Heroic Man who occasionally buys her Nice Things. She demands I change nothing of myself and completely agrees with my Logical Man worldview, no matter what she needs to change about herself to get there. She’s hot, and I get to simultaneously be a straight man and have hot lesbian sex. Even better, because she’s a “strong” woman who is capable in her own right, not only am I physically satisfied, but I get the ego boost of “earning” the submission and subordination of a woman who is better than most people, because she knows I’m better than her.

Honestly, the more I think about it, the grosser it gets, so as far as fanfic goes I just try to ignore it and understand that the authors intention wasn’t to bring along all this baggage. However, to truly write a good Tanya x Visha story that gets away from all these unfortunate implications is a big undertaking, and it’s really impossible for it to make for a compelling side-plot that doesn’t get much screentime.

I’m generally fine with handwaving issues for sideplots, but if Tanya is making decisions because of her relationship with Visha that are now affecting the main plot, it really isn’t something that *should* be handwaved.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[letsperaltiago]

i love you and i like you

Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post: 

“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her

Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."

Read on ao3

Every like and reblog is appreciated <3

Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.

Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.

Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:

“They just grow up so fast.”

Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.

This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.

With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.

All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.

It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.

One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.

“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“

“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”

“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.

“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.

“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.

“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.

“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.  

“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”

Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.

“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.

“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”

He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.

“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.

“I wuv you.”

She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.

“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.

“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”

A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.

From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.

One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.

“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.

It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.

“I need pee.”

“Oh.”

This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.

“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”

And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.

With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.

“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.

They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.

“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.

Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.

“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”

It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.

Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.

Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.

Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game…  But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.

“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips  as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.

“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”

Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.

They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.

“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.

“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”

God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.

“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.

“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”

And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.

Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.

“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.

That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.

A sigh leaves her body.

“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.

“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.

“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”

There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.

“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”

“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”

Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.

“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”

He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.

“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”

“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.

A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.

“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.

“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.

“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”

“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”

Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it

“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.

The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.

“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.

First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.

“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.

As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.

“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”

“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”

Of course.

Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.

“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.

Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.

“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”

And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.

That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”

So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.

Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.

“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.

She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.

“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.

“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.

“You sure?” she tries again.

He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.

And they’re right.

“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”

Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.

“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”

“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.

Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.

So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.  

[jafndaegur]

Noise of Rain | Chapter Five

These are Two Different Worlds, She Walks the Borderline—

Sesskag

a/n: we're coming to the close of the first half! Yay! I think this will probably have about five or so more chapters. Thanks for reading this guilty indulgence of mine~

...

Sesshomaru had taken Rin to a village about a day's worth of travel from the Burial Mounds. They had happened to be in the area, and while his ward went to shop for her supplies, he thought about their next step of travel. Particularly because a bothersome idea had crept into his mind ever since they arrived.

He wanted to go visit the miko in the mountains.

Since the last time he had checked-in on her, he'd noticed they were still struggling to put together their little crop fields. Humans, so fragile and needy that if they could not somehow pertain the correct soil for their crops, they would die. Hah.

So he'd provided lotus pods out of his magnanimous generosity… he was starting to sound too much like Jaken. 

Maybe he should leave the little imp behind for a while, refresh his mind and ears from the presence of the squawky toad.

Going to the miko's would generate that reprieve—

Before he indulged the thought any further, he squashed it with the sharp pinprick of his claws against his palm. 

Since her sudden change, something drew Sesshomaru to her. Curiosity is what he would like to name it, a strange girl with the power to suddenly obliterate the most dangerous hanyou this world had seen; obviously despite his anger that he wasn't the one to kill Naraku, her actions had caught his eye. Perhaps it was the sheer brutality of her powers, a miko easily and without pause tearing apart a living creature. While he enjoyed the sight with a great deal of satisfaction, that was uncharacteristic for the young miko. The daiyoukai huffed, if he didn't know any better, the resentful energy that the miko claimed to use was drastically changing her temperament.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The girl should feel so lucky that he graced her with the constant barrage of thought. Under normal circumstances he would have never cared. Which ultimately brought him full circle again to the main question at hand.

Why did he care, now?

"Lord Sesshomaru!"

Rin's voice cut through the air as if she were standing right next to him. She knew better than to call him when in a town unless it was something important. He sped through the street, chasing the child's delicate scent like a marked path. Damn the humans staring at him, he didn't care. If someone had dared to cause a single scratch upon Rin's flesh. Well.

It'd been a long while since he'd razed a village to cinders.

Sesshomaru halted immediately though. 

Rin walked ahead with a skip, her arms full of gauze, salve, and food. She didn’t look for him however, she looked to the side—where a figure accompanied her. Not just any figure, the miko. 

He took in the sight of her, his eyes narrowing. Her hair was shaggy and unkempt. Her clothes too big and overly wrinkled, they hung off her body with an almost scandalous air to them and he wondered if she knew how to actually properly tie her yukata. It was her eyes though, that dawned the answer to his question.

Because a small smile worked its way on her face as she talked with Rin before eyeing her attention to him. And it was those blue wonders that had been so alive and vibrant before that were now dull and tired, hollowed by sleep circles and darkened bags.

The miko who'd had twice as much liveliness as Rin, the miko who stared everything down with joy and easy-going laughter, was now a husk of a human. And that bothered him.

Because there was no explanation for her change.

"Sesshomaru!" She waved with the hand holding her fife, and he had the sudden urge to grab it and chuck it into the heavens.

"Lord Sesshomaru! You came!" Rin pranced up to him with a proud grin. "Lady Kagome mentioned how nice it would be to see you."

"Rin." He narrowed his glance. "This one is not here for your beck and call."

"I know!" She chirped eagerly.

"I wasn't sure when the next time I could see you would be. It's already been quite some time." Kagome admitted with a sheepish look. "And Rin assured me you were nearby."

Sesshomaru hummed.

"Would you like something to eat?" She continued hurriedly, squeezing Rin's hand gently before pulling away from the child. "My treat."

He wondered if she should really be making such an offer. Still the youkai inclined his head.

His ward cheered and the miko seemed to relax. They wandered down a small path in the town that led to a patio restaurant. Fried fish and pork could be seen on the grills, and the smell of rice and soup filled the air. It was homely.

"Tea, sweet soup for the girl, and two spicy plates!" Kagome ordered before ushering them to a table at the corner. 

It was obvious the other diners were wary of the little group. The rumored Edo Matriarch and a daiyoukai certainly did not make for pleasant clientele. And yet Kagome seemed to brush aside the tense atmosphere for chatter. This was the first time in a long time that Sesshomaru had heard her so carefree and well...like her old self. He indulged her.

Their food was brought out quickly, a small bowl of soup and sweet smelling fruit was handed to Rin. Two bowls of rice topped with red-sauced beef were placed in front of him and the miko. She looked ecstatic.

"Things are slow going in the Burial Mounds but what can I say. That place is pretty inhospitable. It's taken a lot of energy to set up our living there, but it's coming along."

The demon lazily ran his fingers through his hair before giving his tea a delicate sip. "This one has noticed depleted demonic presences in this area. Would that be your doing, miko?"

She hid her giggle behind the back of her hand. "I have created a new tool to draw in and horde resentful energy. Without any malicious or evil just floating around willy-nilly, there's no place for lesser youkai to feed on that negative aura."

He felt a nerve twitch. Could she really do such feats without corruption? There were reasons why meager demons fed on prevalent evil atmospheres.

"Don’t look so concerned," Kagome's smile thinned and she went to absentmindedly twirl her fife. "I've got it under control."

He wondered.

She picked up her chopsticks, laughing when Rin eagerly thanked her for the soup, and started to eat the food with gusto. Sesshomaru felt a small twinge in his chest. Maybe he pondered ceaselessly over nothing. 

He would have thought that if it weren't for the sharp blast of yellow light that flashed from the folds of the miko's robes.

She hissed and withdrew one of her yellow talismans. The red writing glittered before the paper combusted. a curse flew past her lips and she stood immediately from the table.

"Sorry Sesshomaru, this is an emergency." She bolted then, haori fluttering as she fled from the patio. 

The daiyoukai pinched the bridge of his nose, gaze sliding to Rin. "Do you have any money left over?"

"Rin saved a few silver pieces," her little mouth twisted with concern. "Is everything okay my lord?"

He rose as well. "Pay for the meal, find Jaken. I will return later."

She nodded. "Be safe Lord Sesshomaru."

The wind seemed to bend around him as he sped after Kagome, ignoring her startled yelp as he wrapped his arm around her waist and sent them flying for the Burial Mounds. Her hair whipped around like tendrils of ink.

"Miroku is waiting outside of the cave at the center." She urged him. "You'll have to wait there if you want to stick around. There's going to be a massive lash of resentful energy and I cannot handle you transforming into your true form."

"Doubt in my self control is not a good look for you," he growled.

"Nonetheless," she muttered. "Two out of control powerhouses may be beyond my reach if that were to happen."

He wanted to ask what she meant. But the monk came into view and they touched down before he had the chance. Miroku rushed to them. Roaring could be heard from the cave along with the frantic shouting of the demon slayer.

Kagome shot a panicked look to the man before running inside the cave. Sesshomaru followed her without question or care to the monk's protest.

She had been right.

The amount of evil aura permeated the small space like a fog, and it weighed heavily on his baser instincts. He clutched Tenseiga, allowing the serene energy to calm his raging inner-self.

Kohaku fought his sister in a fit of rabid rage. His eyes completely rolled back and white, and hair strewn from his usual ponytail. Unlike pass times as Naraku's puppet, he had an unnatural and unrestrained power about him that thrummed like a barrier. Sesshomaru snarled.

Kagome's music filtered through the air and the dark energy flooded towards her, which she accepted with open meridians. Kohaku's fury diverted to her and he rushed her without mercy. Sesshomaru’s temper snapped and he'd enough. He lunged forward, claws intent on putting the whelp in its place.

The music stopped. "Don't hurt him Sesshomaru, he doesn't kno—"

That hesitation. One moment. And the mindless boy rushed past the dog demon and attack Kagome front on.

To her credit, she defended well. Her fife parried his first punch, body whipping around as she stoutly kicked him in the chest. He recovered quickly and barreled straight into her, head and shoulder pushing into her torso. Slamming her straight into the wall. The miko gasped out, blood flying from her mouth as she fell to the ground with a stagger. Sesshomaru yanked the boy back and sent him spiraling across the cave. He helped the miko up, eyes widening as the light in the cave flickered.

Her eyes bled red and her balance wobbled. The resentful energy seaped into her body in torrents and in that instant Sesshomaru realized that there was nothing he could do to stop the stream.

Kagome reached into her robe and drew forth a dark grey amulet in the shape of a phoenix. The energies spiraled into it. Her eyes flashed bright crimson, and the daiyoukai loathed to admit that his control waivered. But Kohaku fell to the ground, immobile and screaming. Kagome threw the amulet into the air and caught it with a chant. The dark energy stopped its movement and it became stagnant again. Sango ran to her brother's side, cradling him close while sobbing his name.

Kagome sagged.

"I thought," Sesshomaru grit his teeth. "You said everything was taken care of."

The miko looked at him with a bloodied and tired smile. "I've lied to you before, haven't I?"

"You will stop immediately." He growled. 

She hid the phoenix amulet back in her robes, and leaned against his side. He had the strongest urge to push her off and storm away. And yet even now, he found himself gravitating to her side.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket SE02, ep11

There’s a such a sad tone throughout the episode because the theme is “letting go”. Currently: Kagura letting go of kyo. Kyo letting go of being with tohru, Possible future I hope for/want so bad: tohru letting go of the sohma’s. Yes. Girl needs to carve her own path, not solely live for others. Selfish kagura was wrong, selfless kyo can be wrong. But selfless tohru is definitely wrong! Be selfish tohru! plz! I want this for you so bad!!!

-Tohru’s Mission:

I’m so happy there are no magic cure for the curse! Nothing supernatural tohru needs to do. The curse is a metaphor for abuse & trauma, so breaking it with realistic & logical ways is awesome! Forming healthier bonds to replace the toxic ones is a plausible solution.The writer could’ve easily gone the anime-magic style, but didn’t! Tohru in her curse-breaker mode contacting Kazuma who didn’t hold back. “why must you bow you head/do so much” YES!! “you’ve already done so much”. Tell her!! she’s done enough for them. That image of her hugging kyo in his cat form is literally more than anybody could’ve done! the shunned cat, the hideous monster has been embraced by the beauty. love that someone within the story is against the idea of curse-breaker tohru!

-The nature of Abuse/Curse: The abused always lack the strength to oppose the abuser, cuz the abuser has systematically crushed their will/spirit & instilled twisted beliefs, brainwashing the victims into believing they can’t escape & no one is waiting for them, or they’re harmful, so they should stay inside.

-Kazuma’s opinion of Akito: abusers always look pathetic to outsiders, their strength is only dominating their victims. kazuma, an outsider, sees Akito as A spoiled child-like adult. “Fragile & unstable”. Notice how Kazuma’s words humanize Akito. He doesn’t call her monster! but a person who needs to be stopped for herself & others.

-THE “DATE”:

Once again, kyo/kagura date is everything but a date. It has all the typical signs of kagura/kyo “date”. She demands it, he’s refuses, she’s manipulates him using tears, he reluctantly accepts. She initially wanted to experience date-like activities, movies, lunch, he tries, he even dressed up for her, but she can read his eyes: please END this. She gives up leading him to where it all started. That park...happy place, right?

-The unfortunate memory:

To her: she was happily making a friend less fortunate than her, to him: it was a happy memory of ever making any fiend. To her: his misfortune is an opportunity to create a better image of herself: “The beauty accepting the pitiful beast“. To him: it was a moment of fear, alone in the park in his ugliest form, better hide well & wait till I’m human again.. mommy will be mad ..no more playing in the park...no more freedom. It’s tragic how this memory shaped their present relationship. What broke that day wasn’t kyo’s beads, but his trust in her. Whatever trust he had for his big sister is shattered by the pain of his true form & all its ugly outcomes. how tragic that she tried to overcompensate for years, to erase what happened & replace it with forced affection, manipulations, violence, ANYTHING! just let me be the beauty that loves the beast. The tragedy wasn’t that Kagura wanted to fix her human mistake, the tragedy was that she ONLY wanted to heal her own pain. Everybody is afraid of monsters. kyo’s mom. Tohru, too. Kagura screaming & running away wasn’t new to kyo. it is sth he accepts as normal. her leaving him behind is what broke him. He’s as afraid of this monster as everybody else. yet, he’s always left alone with it. Until tohru came & stayed with him. Tohru wins his trust cuz she saw the pain in the beast, the fear, the loneliness. Kagura lost it cuz she left him behind like everybody else did. Kagura’s confession is heartbreaking for them both. but it is tragic that even in her confession she only saw her pain. “I never thought abt your pain”, No one cares abt the monster. They are Not humans. “I only thought abt myself”.

Kyo’s growth:

Silent, understanding, firm, yet kind kyo is a side we usually see with tohru, where he listens silently until she finishes, no rush, no interruption. This side Kagura sees now for the first time. He’s letting her unload her baggage, no matter how painful it is to hear how she pitted him. pity is one of kyo’s worst pet peeves. Yet, he showed no disgust or annoyance. No access to his thoughts. His face & solemn expression conveys lots. Every sentence, decision, expression, & word he said were perfect & showed immense growth.

She realized the difference between them. Both were in pain, both matured to understand themselves better, both gained courage to let go of toxic feelings, however, unlike her, kyo saw her pain & sized to relieve it.

“I won’t fall in love with you”calmly but firmly “I never will” stopping any possible scenarios. Typical kyo, no pampered words to color things differently, just direct, straightforward & honest sentences. That’s how he is with tohru. “I’m not upset abt you looking down on me” reliving her from guilt (a destructive feeling kyo knows too well), “you have nothing to apologize for” regardless if she must or not, kyo is releasing her of the outcomes of her confession. She doesn’t need to fix or explain or justify anything. “No matter your reason was, I’m happy you played with me”. Kyo chose to remember the one positive part of that memory & let go of the darkness attached to it. Them playing together. Not her leaving him. He chose to keep this memory precious & thank her for it.  It’s then that kagura herself chose to do the same, let go of the darkness & bring the innocent memory: “kyo-chan, I love you”. Kyo choosing to embrace her until she’s done crying & thanking her is a precious part of himself that is so endearing. Oh how the table have turned!! The monster is the one comforting the beauty. The monster is not pitiful nor ugly, he’s kind & oh so endearingly sweet. After all, it is not a love story. It never was.

Side Notes:

tohru asking before using the phone in the house she’s been living in for  a year now! my precious girl! T_T.

How twisted the sohma’s are to deny a dead relative burial in the family’s gravesite. All cat zodiacs are even denied after death?! tortured by ridicule & solitary life confinement & even disowned after death. tragic. that’s kyo’s fate. It’s a metaphor for the abusive environment, one can’t expect logic or humanity from such abusive systems. 

kyo covering tohru’s ears...son, why are u so obvious? it hurts, lol. Yuki is in disbelief of how your love-sick brain works. lol

Kyo & black button down shirt. that’s it. That’s the note. 

Kagura finally graduated from comic-relief with violent tendencies to human character with flaws, mistakes & tragic choices. yay!

[peachdoxie]

Alright, alright, time to read chapter 9 of Rhythm of War!

Pewter, augmenters, force. That tracks with Mistborn lore.

***

So, the emotional torture of Kaladin Stormblessed continues.

"Instinctively, he searched out the soldiers of Bridge Four."

I crei

"Kaladin opened his eyes as Syl flew up in the form of a miniature Fourth Bridge. She often took the shape of natural things, but this one seemed extra odd. It didn’t belong in the sky. One might argue that Kaladin didn’t either."

That's a big oof right there, with Kaladin implicitly questioning whether he actually should be allowed to ride the winds.

"It happens whenever you run out of Stormlight. As if… you can only keep going while it’s in you."

Sounds kinda like allochemical savantism ngl

Please just give Kaladin some therapy for once.

Teft: "Oh, shut up, Kal."

Me: thank goodness there's someone willing to be blunt with Kaladin so that he slows his depressive spiral.

Reminds me of this moment in the last chapter of Oathbringer:

“It doesn’t get easier, Teft,” he said. “It gets harder, I think, the more you learn about the Words. Fortunately, you do get help. You were mine when I needed it. I’ll be yours.”

Also, yay for Laran swearing the Third Ideal. But now that means there are no unbonded honorspren.

"And the time when Lopen had nearly died a few months back."

EXCUSE ME?????

I hope that has something to do with Dawnshard.

***"

“Why would the tower have a device to suppress the powers of Radiants? It was their home."

Now that's something. Though Navani also thinks it could have suppressed the Fused's powers, so...

“Soulcasters manifested as small unresponsive spren, hovering with their eyes closed. So the Soulcasters did have a captured spren. A Radiant spren, judging by their shape. Intelligent, rather than the more animal-like spren captured to power normal fabrials."

Well that's some fucking lore right there with some implications that I'm really not sure about shoves another piece of evidence to my Sibling theory

"The Soulcaster cache discovered in Aimia earlier in the year had brought an incredible boon to the coalition armies."

Guess we know part of what happens in Dawnshard, then. But also, how the fuck did they get onto Aimia (probably a Windrunner flying them) and also why did Aimia have this cache in the first place? Is this why the Sleepless were guarding the island so strongly? While the Soulcasters are a boon, for sure, I also fear that there was a reason why they were being held there, and that makes me worried. The Sleepless know things and have been watching our heroes for a while.

Yo wtf who left the spanreed ruby for Navani, and how did no one notice it being left? Or was it placed by a spy?

"You are the monster Navani Kholin. You have caused more pain than any living person."

First of all, what the fuck. Second of all, I guess she's in good company marrying Dalinar if she's also a monster who causes pain....

"The honorspren cannot be trusted. Not anymore."

Ho-ley shit. What the FUCK does that mean? Is this a cultural thing, or like...an intrinsic feature of the honorspren? Can we still trust Syl?

Also, what "new kind of fabrial" is the writer talking about?

“Navani couldn’t get any further responses from the mysterious woman or ardent who had written to her.”

Funny, Navani is married to a man who can write, and yet she still assumes that it was a woman or ardent who had written this. Numerically, if all people who can write are weighted equally, she’d be right. But someone this involved in deep lore may not even be human, let alone a woman or ardent. I wonder if this will come back to bite Navani in the ass.

***

“He’d removed his jacket, and the shirt beneath reminded her of when he came to their rooms after sparring. He always wanted to bathe immediately, and she… well, she rarely let him. Not until she was done with him, at least.”

This is what counts as a sex scene in a Branderson book.

“She pulled closer, and couldn’t help imagining it. What he would do if he knew the real her. If he knew all the things she’d actually done.

It wasn’t just about him. What if Pattern knew? Dalinar? Her agents?

They would leave, and her life would become a wasteland. She’d be alone, as she deserved. Because of the truths she hid, her entire life was a lie. Shallan, the one they all knew best, was the fakest mask of them all.“

Oh Shallan. I wonder if part of her Fourth Ideal will be about not just confronting the truth she lives, but about telling others about it.

Huh. So Veil emerged when Shallan was at her most distraught. Veil also said that she didn’t kill Ialai, but does that necessarily mean that one of the others didn’t? There was that one moment when Shallan!Shallan’s “mind began to fuzz” when Veil asked if one of them killed her. Hmm.

And okay, so there’s a fourth persona that Shallan is trying not to create. That persona scares Veil, for whatever reason (wtf). Also, the name “formless/Formless” seems somewhat in parallel with the use of the word “form” by the listeners.

Lmao, Shallan’s basically just listing half of the secret societies on Roshar, and those are only the ones she knows about.

“Those likely made sense to him, as he’d taken battlefield reports on them. The shadowy groups moving at night, on the other hand, were something he couldn’t fight directly. Dealing with them was to be her job.”

Normal Vorin couples: the woman does the ledgers and organizing while the men go do hard labor

Shadolin: Adolin fights the soldiers while Shallan fights the secret societies

“Nalathis. Scadarial. Tal Dain.”

*high pitched shrieking noises*

And Thaidakar. Who- or whatever that is.

***

OKay, so some shit happened in this chapter. Kaladin is falling more and more into a depressive spiral. Navani is getting letters from people unknown telling her to stop making new fabrials (though not with any direct threats). Shallan is still struggling to tell Adolin things.

Can’t wait for next week!

[maxilsmaster]

writer ask meme

https://ciiardha-blog.tumblr.com/post/158543702841/writer-ask-meme

  1. Tell us about your WIP! right now, i’m working on a fic with classicfresh, scifell, errink, dustberry, horrorlust, afterdeath and killercreammare. basically, dream invited everyone on a picnic but it went horribly wrong and everyone started arguing.

2. Where is your favorite place to write? i mostly write stuff out on google docs then post to ao3, but sometimes i just skip to ao3

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? favorite: i don’t necessarily have to share my work. least favorite: describing things.

4. Do you have any writing habits/rituals? lots of dialogue, start with a line of dialogue.

5. Top five formative books? haha what

6. Favorite character you’ve written? probably error or ink. maybe my own sans, illusion.

7. Favorite/most inspirational book? i like the sight (warriors arc 3 book 1) and curiosity killed the error (by the lovely @shandycandy278​).

8. Do you have any writing buddies or critique partners? i recently gained a position beta-reading for @jasmynation​‘s undermaze fic. also my friend CosmoCat07 on ao3

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes? i have no idea.

10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book with CosmoCat07

11. What are you planning to work on next? dying inside slowly

12. Which story of yours do you like best? why? New Beginnings, the thing I’m writing with CosmoCat07.

13. Describe your writing process oh hey this would be funny *types ideas on notepad on chromebook* *writes it out on google docs*

14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?) type a vague idea, and wing it from there

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? bottle it up internally :D

16. Cover love/dream covers? i don’t like covers.

17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing? not sex.

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone read my first warriors fanfic. 30 chapters of me not fully understanding warriors. (un)fortunately, it got deleted when my old laptop broke.

19. How do you cope with writer’s block? write more

20. Any advice for young writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on? don’t doubt yourself.

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of? the grammar, definitely. i’m not giving a shit about it here, but i’m good at grammar. no grammarly stop giving me your ads, i can write just fine on my own.

22. Tell us about the books on your “to write” list 50 one-shots then 70+ more.

23. Most anticipated upcoming books? the next warriors books

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? no

25. What’s your worldbuilding process like? what worldbuilding process?

26. What’s the most research you’ve ever put into a book? very. very. VERY. little.

27. Every writer’s least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas? inspiration? fanfiction. it’s pretty easy.

28. How do you stay focused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison? i don’t compare and i don’t get comparison. i’m not that popular.

29. Is writing more of a hobby or do you write with the intention of getting published? hobby

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works? all i read is fanfiction all i read is undertale fanfiction all i write is basically undertale fanfiction

31. Top five favorite books in your genre? genre: fanfiction. ckte, um ckte, undermaze, our tangled web, and uh ckte. i like ckte.

32. On average how much do you write in a day? do you have trouble staying focused/getting the word count in? i have trouble writing over 1000 words at once, but i try. i also write a lot. it’s been occupying most of my time lately.

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? oh, i messed up this word. edit. oh, this sentence would fit here... add sentence. oh my god this whole story sucks burn it in hell.

34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions? idk.

35. Post the last sentence you wrote from prompt 49. dear god. at least i’m done prompt 5...

“S’ why m’ not gettin’ ya somethin’ greasy,” Red answered, pulling open the door to Grillby’s.

36. Post a snippet SPOILERS FOR PROMPT 33 OF MY THING

Cross stepped between the two. “Alright, who wants to play hide and seek?”

“OOH! ME!” Blue cheered, wiggling around in the strings.

Horror raised the hand his axe was in, and Killer raised a hand as he stood up to retrieve his knife from the wall it had been stuck in from when he threw it. Meanwhile, Dust and Error let out a groan.

“Alright, majority rules, we’re doing hide and seek!”

“Yay!” Horror, Blue and Killer said, all in different tones.

“And Error, no cheating this time,” Cross ordered. “You know what, you can seek.”

“Fuck you,” Error spat as he dropped Blue from the strings. Killer caught Blue dramatically. “That was gay.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re already dating,” Killer refuted, dipping Blue and kissing him.

“EIGHT! NINE! TEN!” Error yelled, turning around and subsequently causing everyone to jump.

They then proceeded to run out of the room.

37. Do you ever write long handed or do you prefer to type everything? type. i can’t write with a pencil for shit.

38. How do you nail voice in your books? i don’t XD

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire? idk, really

40. Do you look up to any of your writer buddies? shandy

41. Are there any books you feel have shaped you as a writer? what?

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied? one, then edit.

43. How do you deal with rejection? haven’t had to yet.

44. Why (and when) did you decide to become a writer? late grade 7, i guess. that was when i first started getting into warriors.

45. First or third person? third

46. Past or present tense? past, definitely

47. Single or dual/multi POV? i’m cool with either

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back? write everything in one go (spread out over multiple days, normally), then add/remove a few details

49. Favorite fictional world? right now utmv but i also like warriors

50. Do you share your rough drafts or do you wait until everything is all polished? i edit before i post, but i post individual chapters

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books? mostly talk about it amongst the fandom

52. Who do you write for? myself, mostly.

53. What is the first line of your WIP? my current one, where i’m writing seven different ships in a one-shot?

This picnic was a terrible idea. Everyone was arguing over something so pointless and mundane that it may as well not even have started.

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written? not the one above

55. How do you manage your time/make time for writing? (do you set aside time to write every day or do you only write when you have a lot of free time?)  i just write constantly

[loadingluke]

Days 2-4 post op stage 2

Hey all, here’s a little update on how I’ve been going. Just warning in advance I’ll be talking about some sensitive topics so if that makes you uncomfortable read with caution. Unfortunately the nature of all of this surgery stuff is pretty gross and tmi, but I thought I’d warn you all the same since we’re here now 🤷‍♂️

SATURDAY

Day 2 I would say was my hardest day in hospital, possibly even including stage one to be honest. I was feeling pretty weak and uncomfortable with 3 cannulas in one arm and an iv machine that would just not shut up if I moved my arm at all. I was given a bed wash and that made me feel a lot cleaner, and I brushed my teeth and had some mouthwash, which always makes me feel at least 12% better. I got out of bed for a brief second and sat in a chair. I really wasn’t feeling up for much more, and with the pca, iv, catheter and all the padding I really didn’t want to walk too far at all.

I was still feeling kind of woozy and tired from the bloods from the day before and wasn’t eating or drinking all that much. I started feeling quite nauseous around lunchtime, and nothing really seemed to shake it. I had some anti nausea medication but it didn’t help too much unfortunately. Around dinner is when I started throwing up. I was sick once or twice, and then I felt a little bit of nausea relief for a few hours before it started up again. It really got to the point where I didn’t have anything coming up but I just wasn’t stopping 😫 I was feeling pretty emotionally and mentally wiped, barely drinking or eating and just waiting for it to pass. We believe I was having a reaction to one of the antibiotics I was taking, and by giving me an anti nausea med about half an hour before the antibiotic I felt much better. Over the course of the night I slowly started feeling better, and my vitals started to actually settle and get a little more regular. Everything was up from here to be honest, and since then things have been pretty peachy.

SUNDAY

After my monster of a night I was hoping for a little more relief from day 3, and thank the penis gods this was granted. The difference 24 hours made was night and day. I felt more alert, a lot less sleepy, I had more colour in my face and I felt tons better. I got out of the bed again, and managed to take myself to the bathroom to sponge bath myself, as well as brush my teeth, put on deodorant and change into a clean gown. Afterwards, managed to have a bit of a walk around the ward, dragging along my IV machine which surprisingly chose those moments to behave.

I had the pca and oxygen taken down, and my fluids were drastically reduced once I was able to keep my food and drink down. The drain coming out of my abdomen that was draining my scrotum was also taken out as nothing was draining from it (yay). The catheter wasn’t bothering me much either, so I was feeling pretty great to be honest. I spent most of the day pottering around, I got myself up a few more times, including to go and make myself a cup of tea (a feat I am still very chuffed about and excitedly told Maddy about (thanks for being patient with me, I love u)) I had a visit from a family friend who bought me some flowers and my hospital guilty pleasure that for some reason I always get a craving for, avocado and cucumber sushi. It was nice to see someone I knew and it definitely lifted my spirits.

I got myself off to bed and slept most of the night. The one downside was my IV. I don’t know if I mentioned, but I needed to be cannulated a second time for my blood transfusion, and unfortunately since they were both so close together it was all kinds of uncomfortable. Well, over the few days, as well as me moving, this cannula just would not quit. One of them started leaking and had to be removed, and the one remaining just seemed to jump out of my vein any chance it could get, meaning the iv was having difficulty properly draining. I swear the machine was going off every 2 or 3 minutes no joke unless I kept my arm in the exact same position. The nurses ended up wrapping my arm up with some gauze and a tubigrip to keep it all (somewhat) in place. This, coupled with me literally not moving a muscle, and I started getting a very stiff arm and neck which made it even harder to fall asleep. Also, one of my nostrils decided it was the perfect time to get blocked right then and there, so it was not great getting off to sleep. Once I was asleep though, I slept pretty solidly. I woke up for my obs, went back to sleep, and then woke up again because the machine screamed at me. I couldn’t get back to sleep for a couple of hours because of it, rip. Honestly don’t know how the nurses deal with them. Every time they go off I want to throw it out the window. Eventually I fell back asleep until about 7:30am.

MONDAY

Monday morning I woke up to Dr Goossen coming in for my my morning check up. He wasn’t in for long, and mainly explained what will be happening over the next few days for my discharge, and when I’ll be getting the padding removed. He said he was happy with how everything looked, prodded me a few times and asked if I could feel it (I could) and went on his merry way saving more lives I assume. I had my cannula removed and was taken off the IV machine (thank god) and then I hopped on over to the bathroom for my morning freshen up (at this point I’m getting pretty good at it all if I do say so myself) and then I had my mum and sister come to visit. It was really nice seeing them, and I’m honestly very glad that they didn’t come any sooner because I was in no shape for their energy until today. We ended up getting a wheelchair and going for a little walk downstairs. It was really nice to get some fresh air, and I had a hot chocolate which I enjoyed. After being outside for about 45 minutes I was suddenly feeling pretty wiped and I was taken back to my room. I had a bit of a power nap, and they went home. They’ll come back to pick me up tomorrow for discharge.

The rest of the afternoon I have to say I felt pretty gross. Now that I wasn’t feeling faint or nauseous anymore, and since the padding has been there for 4 days, I started to become uncomfortably aware of its presence. It feels very much like a cup that would be used in contact sports to protect someone’s balls, and it goes right between my legs and up quite high near my butt. This understandably has made navigating bowel movements rather uncomfortable. I managed to without much of an issue luckily, but I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

I was talking to a nurse and they said they have a running joke that they’d be able to know right away if they were getting a Christmas present form Goossen, because it would be more like a pass the parcel. Honestly, when I was told this, I cracked up because it is so true. There is soooo much tape and padding, it’s honestly so overwhelming. It was the same for stage 1, so I don’t really know what i expected, but it’s really hard to see anything that is going on down there as it’s just a maze of gauze and tubes, so I’m just trusting the nurses and Goossen that they know if it was going in a way it wasn’t meant to. I have to say I did have to fight my brain a bit today, as that feeling of the padding is uncomfortably similar to the something experienced monthly before starting testosterone. Logically I KNOW that it is definitely not the same, but the padding + draining from all the wounds made me feel pretty rough. I think having it sitting there for 4 days has also made it feel pretty gross anyway, so I am counting down the seconds until I get that removed and all cleaned tomorrow morning. This was all bad enough, until I started noticing a little bit of leakage from the urethral catheter, which was awful smelling. It’s not too constant, but was enough that I noticed it and felt EXTRA disgusting. Then some of the padding started falling apart, so a nurse grabbed me a pair of hospital underwear to just hold it all in place. This is fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. ☹️. I’m just telling myself it’s only 12 or so hours until it’s all gone and I know I’ll feel tons better.

The afternoon was pretty uneventful besides one moment when I started feeling like I was getting bladder spasms. I have had these once before after my hysto, but surprisingly was fine for s1. I think I normally would have been okay, but since I was already feeling pretty gross I freaked out a little. I started worrying about the next 3 weeks and how long that would feel if I was in constant pain. The pain was starting to get more and more intense, and I felt like I was busting to go to the toilet. A nurse happened to come in as I needed to have some obs done, and when she had a look at the catheter it seemed to have been blocked or kinked or something. A little bit of a wiggle later and 800mLs flowed through completely fine, and completely relieved my pain. After that I felt much better. Nurses are heroes.

FINAL THOUGHTS

That’s about all that’s happened so far. One thing I haven’t touched on really is the pain, and honestly I’m managing really well. Pain hasn’t passed above a 2 or 3, and I’ve not had anything but Panadol and a one a day anti inflammatory for at least 48 hours. Most of my difficulty has come from the nausea and my low blood pressure, and once that was sorted I would say I was more uncomfortable than in pain.

In saying that though, I definitely underestimated this surgery. I think after overestimating stage one (which I knew would be hard and don’t get me wrong it was rough) but I had a very smooth and quick recovery following my first procedure and I’d heard some pretty horrid stories about how rough it was going to be, so I ended up feeling like it ended up being easier than I expected it would be. I was told that stage 2 would be a lot easier than stage 1 and in some ways it was, but in other ways it was harder. That second day was really hard on me and definitely the worst surgical experience I have had by far. Once I bounced back from that it has been a lot easier compared to stage 1 sure, but living through it at the time it just felt overwhelmingly difficult. My advice is to make sure you take every day as a baby step, and little by little you’ll get through it.

A picture is worth 1000 words, first one is from day 2 post op, feeling my absolute worst, second is from day 4 post op with my mum 😊

Let me know if you have any questions, I’m always happy to help 👍

[killian-whump]

OUAT 2x06: Rewatch Blog

Heeey everybody! Welcome to my rewatch liveblog of episode 2x06, “Tallahassee”. This one’s about the capital of Florida, which is called ‘The Sunshine State’ because there’s a lot of sunshine there when alligators aren’t eating you and/or meth addicts aren’t eating your face off.

Wait, what? Oh, my research team has just informed me that this episode isn’t actually about Florida at all - it’s about beanstalk adventures and flashbacks to Emma’s history with Neal. So no alligators most likely. Okay.

Well, let’s get started!

Well, this is off to a great start already! Every episode should start with Killian Jones tied up in some way, shape, or form. Nice!

“Freakier than I remembered from the story.” YOU AIN’T KIDDING.

“Reminds me of death.” Whoa, now that’s a little melodramatic.

Awww, lookit his face D: “Please untie me missus” *flails at him*

Mmm... Angry untying. That’s nice. The leather’s back. Saucy Hook, yay. “Don’t be afraid to, you know, really get into it.” Haha, he’s so cute <3

I HAVE SUCH A BONE TO PICK AND I’M GONNA PICK IT RIGHT NOW.

Flashback Emma’s glasses really bug me. Like, we see NO sign of poor eyesight in any of the young Emma flashbacks, and no signs of poor vision in present day Emma. It’s like she developed poor eyesight for an isolated year or two in her late teens and it just... cleared up?

Oh, I know, I know, she could’ve switched to contacts. Right. However, we see no evidence of that, either. No glasses in the morning or late at night. No issues with spending an extended time in the Enchanted Forest without access to either glasses or proper contact lens care. No vision impairment on Princess Emma in S6 who wouldn’t have access to glasses OR contacts, etc, etc.

So maybe Lasik surgery? Okay, but how would she have access to an expensive medical procedure that insurance didn’t cover (assuming she even HAD insurance, which, given her age and financial situation, is doubtful)?

It’s like the writers gave her glasses as a cute little character quirk in this awkward “ugly duckling” stage of her life without having any idea how glasses and bad vision actually work. Which would be ridiculous, considering Adam and Eddy both fucking wear glasses.

...and then they went and did it again with Robin in S7. No glasses on her primary persona, but her cursed persona needs them to see. And after the curse is broken... she still apparently needs them. WTF, show?!

Okay, but that outfit is super cute, glasses and all.

Yellow Bug origin story, guys! Is there a ship name for Emma and her car? Like, SwanBug or something? There should be if there isn’t. It’s so pure <3

Hahaha, Neal, you little shit. That grin of his is kinda cute.

~ TITLE CAAAAAAAAAARD!!! ~

Not sure why antis pick on that line of Neal’s about women. I mean, I’m not a huge fan of his, but it’s pretty obvious he’s reading the cop and (correctly) guessing on how to play him to get him to let them off. And Emma even calls him on it immediately - and he basically implies that’s exactly what he was doing. Antis don’t make any sense sometimes.

Okay, not as cute now... kinda smarmy. (Hi Ashley!)

Aaaaaaaaaaaand back to the beanstalk!

Oh, they kinda are getting really into it, aren’t they? Haha.

You know, I find it really hard to believe that Killian Jones would ever use the phrase “Tick, Tock” in casual speech. I’m just saying.

“I was hoping it’d be you.” :D

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.” ∩(︶▽︶)∩

One of my favorite Captain Swan moments riiiiight here:

HOLD MY PURSE, BITCH

And he follows after her like an eager puppy. Total subbie.

DRAMATIC MUUUUUSIC!

*sips beverage* Still climbing, huh? Seriously, though. Did they climb that far without talking at all? Or did Hook just chatter endlessly the whole time? Somebody better have written a fic of him babbling at her for hours.

“I love a challenge!” Hee hee! <3

“That’s not perception, that’s eavesdropping.” And he doesn’t deny it, lol.

“No, I’ve never been in love.” Okay, but she’s obviously lying. That’s a terribly transparent lie, Emma. You can do better.

The sniffing face, heehee.

That’s a pretty good ruse, though. I mean, really. People just sort of trust expectant parents. Although I’m sure it worked better 10 years ago than it would today.

Imagine if she’d pointed higher up. “Our future awaits us in... Detroit.” “Umm, lemme point again.” “No, no, that first point was legally binding.”

“I don’t really... sleep now.” Oh, sure. That’s normal.

This scene’s kinda boring :/

♫ Welcome to the laaaaaaaaaand of CGI and Giiiiiiiiiiiants ♫

“What happened here?” I mean, he kinda told you earlier in the episode.

“Giants can smell blood... and I’m always a gentleman.” <3

The cheerful way he says, “It’s rum!” XD

...and now my entire female reproductive system has died. That is the seventh time this month, dammit. This man is a menace.

Milah angst. Someone hold me T_T

I kinda don’t care about Neal’s problems.

I like this shade of lipstick on Emma, though. Okay, actually, I just like that shade of lipstick. Fun KW fact: Whenever I’m out and buy a new shade of lipstick, when I get home, I always discover it’s the same as all the other shades of lipstick I’ve bought, thinking they were different and so pretty. They’re all this color.

Colin sounds weird when he says, “You ready?”

You swing that bone, big guy! The things this show had him do XD

...It’s Jorge!!! :D Hi Jorge!!! :D I love him! I loved him on Lost, too. He’s just got such a lovely smile. He not smilin’ now, tho. Looks kinda grumpy.

“You big git!” Hahaha, that’s the best he’s got, apparently XD “You wanna kill a human, eh? You wanna kill a human?” The way Colin says “human” here makes me laugh for some reason, and he does it twice XD “Come on!”

“Come on then! Come on then!” I wonder if Colin’s flashing back to that role he played as a football hooligan in Love Is the Drug XD

Him popping up. This scene is so silly and ridiculous. I confess, it’s not one of my favorites, because it kinda borders on cringey in it’s ridiculousness, but it’s also unintentionally hilarious, so...

She’s so relieved <3

This is a good scene. I don’t have much to say about it, but it’s a good scene. Laying the groundwork for the big reveal of Henry being in the room. Ooooh. Also, I love Snow looking after Aurora.

And Aurora’s tiara or hair decorations or... whatever that is... is so pretty.

“What’s your rush?” Hahaha, you adorable idiot. “How long do you think magic knock out powder lasts?” “I’ve no clue,” as he sniffs coins like a derelict. “That’s my rush.” Like, why does she even have to explain this to him? XD

“Everything we need is right in front of us!” Everyone always turns this into some kind of big CS line, but I always thought it just... triggered a memory for Emma, hence the segue into the next flashback. They weren’t even really facing each other when he said it, so I don’t think it was intended to be foreshadowing. Just my opinion, though. Not legally binding :P

Nice sword, Jack. Not pompous at all.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Epic scene alert. “That’s a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time, don’t stand on ceremony.” Yooou fucking idiot <3

EAR SCRATCH *jumps on him* *rides him home*

Yeah, I know. All the liveblogs are gonna be like this. I’m so sorry.

Emma, too, is wondering what she’s gotten herself into. “Oh no. He’s sexy and absolutely ridiculous all at once. I am so fucked.” I think this was the moment she realized she liked him. That fucking menace.

Ugh. This train is just speeding towards derailment D: I hate storylines like this, when you just know the shoe’s gonna drop and-

Uh huh. Here’s August now, dropping shoes all over the place.

That drove me nuts the first time, not knowing what was in the fucking box.

And why did she have to go to jail? Like, dump her, leave her alone, fine, but sending her to jail is a bit... extra, isn’t it?

Ah, she’s so broken :( Alexa, play Despacito.

“Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

WHUMP! It’s whump!!! Buried in Rock Rubble Whump!!! :D

She’s even more panicked this time. Nice.

Jorge is mad.

Hahaha, I can’t stop seeing Jen in the green donut, though.

This scene is all pretty great, really. I forgot I was liveblogging.

Sweet, summer child. You’re so enamored with Emma and the compass and... Aw, geez. This is why Colin’s a menace. It doesn’t matter who he’s playing or what you think of them. He puts these faces on and tugs your heartstrings and suddenly you’re like, “Oh, look at this sweet, sincere little nugget!”

And then this happens...

It’s whump! BUT WHY DOES IT HURT MY SOUL D:

And then his voice shakes a little. “What are you doing?”

“Emma... Look at me. Have I told you a lie?” D:

“Why do this to me now?”

“You’re just gonna leave me here to die? Let that beast eat me, to crush my bones?” T_T

“SWAAAAN!!!!” He’s so fucking scared D: I died.

Hahahaha, SNOW WHITE WITH THE TACKLE.

I love how Aurora’s the only one who asks about Hook XD

Congratulations. You get a car. And a baby. When you get out of jail.

THIS IS THE WORST GAME SHOW EVER.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN BIG REVEAL!!!

...and the end! PEW PEW PEW!!! <3

[arisalty]

i’ve been here the whole time singing you a song

This one-shot was made for @notveryglittery , whose birthday is today, so Happy Birthday!

Tbh I planned the basic outline and wasn't even going to introduce quite a few characters but I did and I went with it - I hope yall like it :) As this is my first time writing Royality, any constructive criticism is accepted!

lowkey want to plan something else for this now but also don't want to set another target just yet as im a bit busy and dont wanna overload myself :/ yikes oh well

Dani, Happy Birthday! Enjoy this Royality!

AO3

Word count: 

Roman had noticed a few things lately. One at the forefront of his mind was that Patton Heart was really fucking adorable.

Of course, nobody could know of this. If anyone of his friends found out he would be screwed.

Yes, his whole friend group were gay (or ace, or bi, or pan or nonbinary) disasters, but they were also incredibly good wing-people, with a high rate of getting two people dating -- and Roman didn’t want to ruin the naturalness of their friendship.

And worse he couldn’t let anyone know that The Emperor had a crush. And by extension, that meant that he couldn’t allow his crime-fighting partner (and asshat of an older brother) to find out; Virgil’s tongue was always looser when donned with the costume of Poison Shadow. And the city would be in an uproar of the thought of The Emperor liking someone romantically- and if it ever got out who it was, it would put Patton in serious danger.

But Roman couldn’t help but notice the little smiles Patton gets when talking about some of the animals in the shelter he volunteered at, or the ways his eyes light up when he gushed about the heroes of the city.

The way his open gaze instilled a feeling of trust.

And dear lord it was not helping the gay mess that was Roman Kingston.

“Alright, shithead, what’s up with you?”

“I tell you and I’m doomed you insolent sloth.” The owner of the monotonous voice shot a glance at the prying sibling.

“Right. That’s really fucking useful to know.” Dripping sarcasm; the asshat was not only prying but also getting annoyed now! Yay!

“Oh, piss off. Let me be a disaster in peace.”

The elder stood, shaking his head, before walking to the other edge of the rooftop they were perched on.

“Hurry up! Today is a sparring day.” Virgil, seeing Roman making no attempt to move, pushed forward with his mind, pushing the darkest shadows up until they were able to slap Roman across the face. “Come on, idiot. The night isn’t gonna last forever!”

Grumbling, the man in his late teens stood from his position on the edge of the rooftop, reluctantly turning at the end of the roof, with sarcastic jazz hands at his sides.

And just like that, they were sparring. Virgil completely flattened The Emperor in 3 separate rounds before some sense seemed to be knocked into the dramatic hero’s head. The furious flashes of light and dark clashed throughout the area, silent except the heavy breathing of the men, and the jibes thrown between the space between them.

It was another while before they were tired, as their sparring took place at least twice a week- they needed to stay in shape even over their sports and workouts.

Roman sat on the edge of the rooftop next to his brother, slowly regaining his breath.

When the villain attacked, it was not appreciated by the two teens. They were tired and generally unwilling to have to use their already exhausted powers. Their fighting was lacklustre and they took any moment they could to stop and perch off railings or on rooftops.

Flashes of light across the night were brief but would warp the situation, allowing shadows, viscous as ink moved away in slow patterns, stalking the villain until finding it’s perfect time to strike, pushing the villain backwards, dragging them forwards then dropping them off the edge of the building.

Yet the villain didn’t waver in power. At a mere flick of fingers, the Emperor fell backwards, barely left any time to make a platform for him to stagger onto.

How were they going to get this person then?

“What does your immoral soul bother us with, foul villain?”

“Oh, nothing really. I was just bored, so I decided to mess around with these powers I earnt the other day.”

The pale blue light of the moon offset by the warmer glow from the Emperor's hand gave enough light to see fangs flash under the mask that covered the upper half of their face.

“Why set about destroying the city, fuckwad? Why not just, I don’t know, sleep, like a normal person?”

“Ew, no, sleep? That drains me more. Plus, don’t we all need to have a little bit of chaos in our lives?”

Roman could feel the eyes rolling in his elder’s head.

“What the fuck about us two says put together, dipshit? We’re fucking disasters!”

“My fair partner has a valid point. We are fucking disasters ,” Roman eyed the inky lattice forming under the villain's feet for a second before he continued. “We’re both messes of human beings in general- have you seen his room, it's an atrocity - and my room has far too much stuff that I am far too attached to get rid of. Then there's the point that we’re both doing this along with studying for school which in itself drains your energy and the final point is, well,”—the smirk thrown his way by Poison Shadow was all he needed—”We really aren’t all that dumb.”

Poison Shadow ripped his fist upwards, the shadowed lattice folding and bending around the villain, as the Emperor reached out and began to set the still fluid shadows. The cage kept the villain in, and finally, the villain showed some kind of emotion; fear radiated from their composure; arms wrapped around their torso, fist fiddling with their cloak edge, shoulders up to their ears.

Roman pitied the now much smaller opponent. Ego and expectations of power high in their mind with newfound strength ruled their minds. The Emperor turned away, patting Poison Shadow on the back as went after he silently checked his brother was okay with dealing with him.

As he crossed the bridged gap between buildings, he heard his brother’s cry, and then he felt himself flying backwards over buildings, body limp as a rag doll as his brain tried to comprehend which was up or down or the sky or ground. Once he finally stopped moving, he found himself winded and bruised and somehow not broken- though he felt it- on a balcony. With a very familiar curious face peering down at him.

Patton. Fucking. Heart.

It was his luck, wasn’t it? He’d get thrown about like an unused toy to be left in his worst state on the balcony of one of his favourite people in the world.

“Oh my goodness, are you all right? Is anything broken? Do you need some water, food, comfort?” The stream of babble poured from Patton, his pale blue eyes wide with worry, both searching his body to analyse for damage and keeping eye contact to calm the disorientated hero.

Thank goodness these powers strengthen my bones and skin.

“Uhm… I think… I’ll be,” The Emperor was interrupted by a fit of coughing, which he dealt with but rolling onto his front and slowly making his way to his knees. “Actually, could I, uh, have a glass of water.”

Patton nodded earnestly, and even through the lingering dizziness pounding in his mind, Roman could make out the curls of Patton’s hair reflecting the cool blue of the moon. The smaller figure retreated into the building, just as Roman felt a buzz in his pocket.

Pulling out the smartphone, he huffed at the once again smashed screen to read the text he received.

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:35

-- sorry dude didnt see that coming

-- dick had us fooled into thinkin he was subdued

--you went flying tho, it was kinda hilarious

-- i got it handled, he’s trapped until police arrive

Me - 11:38

--oh ok

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:39

-- u ok? Or do i need to pick u up

Me - 11:40

-- nah it’s cool i landed on a classmates balcony, just a bit dizzy

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:40

-- cool, dickwad, dont reveal anything

Me - 11:40

-- bold of you to assume i would

-- k byeeee xxx :)))))

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:41

-- :/

Patton returned, carrying the glass.

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to get back, my parents were wondering what happened and I figured you didn't want to be crowded so I just made up a lie and then they got me to do a quick job and uh— here.”

Roman took the drink, downing as much of it as he could, before stopping to try and stand.

“Tough villain, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. I was knocked back ‘cos I was caught off guard. I thought Poison had got them - he was inside a huge cage, you see - so when he lashed out again after being subdued it surprised us.”

Roman looked over the city wistfully. The sky was clear and the air was fresh, with little to no breeze. Roman took this time to notice that Patton was wearing only his pyjamas and a zip hoodie thrown over the top.

“Do you need to help Poison Shadow then? It looked like you were thrown far.”

“Nah, Patton, he sent a few texts to say he handled it.”

Patton nodded in understanding, before cocking his head sideways.

“Wait, you know me?”

Shit.

Roman ran through his words and cursed at his loose mouth.

“Uh, oh yeah,” Roman coughed out, scratching at his neck, unconsciously picking at the skin. “You, uh, go to the same school as me. We’re in the same year, actually.”

You’re oversharing! The voice of his brother rang out in his head.

“Wait, really?”

God, Roman absolutely adored the way Patton’s eyes lit up, the tiny specks of green almost glowing in the natural light around them. Anything else and Roman might actually die on the spot. He just thanked his younger-little-dramatic-shit self and wanted to hide his and Virge’s faces from the world - at least Patton wouldn't be able to see his glowing red face.

“That’s so cool! I could tell you were a teen, I didn’t realise you were like, that close to me!” Patton waved his hands about excitedly, and that’s it. Roman felt like he was melting into a puddle. His friend was so cute, and he just wanted to hold Patton to his chest and treasure him and spoil him with cakes and serenades and movie nights.

Roman somehow managed to keep talking for a while, but he was going to go insane soon. He just wanted to give Patton a hug, goddamnit !

They were shook from their conversation by the door opening to reveal Declan Heart, whose eyes flew open at the visitor Patton apparently had.

“Oh my god, Logan, come out here,” he hissed out of the side of his mouth, mismatching eyes darting from the sheepish look on Patton's face to the city known hero on his house’s balcony.

When Declan’s twin cast appeared in the doorway, Patton waved, somewhat cheery, opposed to Roman’s more fidgety behaviour, his skin prickling under the gazes of the two older twins. He had only met Logan on one occasion, and he was intimidated, to say the least.  

“Suprise!” Patton giggled, with jazz hands waving at his brothers, very different from the delivery Virgil would have given in this situation.

“I knew that there was a lie somewhere in your excuse earlier!” Declan’s quiet exclamation made its way into the silence, but this just made Roman more uncomfortable under the blank stare he was receiving from Logan.

"Well, I had to because otherwise, this ," — Patton waved at the group they had formed around the hero — "would happen and the last thing that needs to happen after being thrown really far and being bashed about is being crowded. Plus, this was my lucky day." Patton giggled, throwing a wink sideways to Roman, and oh no , Roman was a mess. He felt like spontaneously combusting while gripping his heart and dramatically dying on the floor where he stood.

Yet the only reaction to this was somehow a brief panic before a smile broke out and Roman was able to laugh along a bit.

"Patton, why, might I ask, did you conceal this from both me and Declan? I understand your point on crowded-ness but you also know of our fascination with the heroes and our possible future career paths."

Logan's words made Patton look down guiltily, revealing that Logan's words were true, but he fiddled with his bracelet on his wrist before looking upwards towards the elder twin.

"Because... Because I didn't want to?"

Patton then frowned, looking almost... angry. But not towards anyone- his gaze was at the floor, more as if he was angry at himself. Logan let a smile slip onto his lips, the same teasing smile once Virgil managed to wind up Roman.

"Valid reasoning. I know for a fact my excuse would be more or less the same."

Patton brightened up again, but Roman didn't have a chance to admire him again as Declan had burst out with an exclamation asking for an autograph.

This whisked away Roman's attention for a while, ending up in a selfie with the three with his magic glowing through his veins for proof of authenticity and various things being signed as well as a note Roman felt obligated to write to the Heart parents for their (unknown) hospitality.

He even got all of them to make a small piece of memorabilia for him to keep to remember them should he not be able to visit them again. Logan gave a small origami gift, Declan a yellow feather. In Patton's case, he had to think for a few seconds before his face absolutely lit up. He rushed a tiny, absolutely minuscule potted cactus, the plant itself being about the size of his thumb, to roman, with the most adorable and sincere face.

"Here! Take Ophelia - I grew her myself. That being said, it's probably best you don't have a feel of her , she's a bit prickly!"

A groan rumbled in Logan's throat at the pun, contrasting the chuckles from Roman and Dec, followed by the all too familiar buzz of Roman's phone.

Very Early Womb-mate - 12:56

-- What the FuCK you ass?? its been an hour or so what the fuck is taking you so long?????

-- mom's gonna start to freak, u need to get home as soon as u can

-- idiot

Me - 11:56

-- aksdflaksdhfkljkj what the fuck i lost track of time heck i'll get home asap

Roman shoved his cracked phone into a pocket and grinned sheepishly.

"My brother has warned me against impending doom known as my mother and her lectures if I don't return home soon. I thank you all for your lovely donations of memorabilia and allowing me to stay. However, it is nearly 1 o'clock and we have been out here an awfully long time. Farewell, fellow humans!"

Roman turned away, climbing over the railing and forming a golden step of light in front of him.

"Ah, right, that reminds me. We were sent up here to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep up here Patton. We got sidetracked though. Come on, Pat." Logan chimed.

As Roman was leaping away over steps made for him, he could faintly hear Patton respond about watering 'Candice' and 'Bobby', which he could assume were plants, before heading inside.

Roman luckily escaped with his hide when he managed to sneak in through the window just in time before his mom burst in, looking for him. He used the excuse of being on his phone as a reason for being awake - which did admittedly get his phone taken away - but at least he wouldn't have to listen to a rant.

And as he settled to sleep, he was caught up in thinking. Remembering. Adoring.

Yes, Roman was a mess, but at least tonight he could sleep easy after the beautiful image of Patton in the moonlight, playful glint in his eyes; him holding out a tiny cactus supplied with a pun; his excited face once he realised something interesting.

It wasn't much, but to Roman it was everything.

[owl-girl04]

Part Two of Leakira AU

Yay I actually continued something for once! Thank you all so much for such a positive response on Part One, which if you haven’t read is here! So if you want another chapter of this, let me know. I know there isn’t as much Leakira stuff in this bit but I couldn’t resist adding in a few other characters, who you may recognize. Wink wink nudge nudge. 

AND! I posted the first chapter on AO3, and I’ll get this one on there soon, so if you want to read on there: here’s the link. Alright, that’s all I have to say, so here you go, Part Two:

After a fast journey towards the Florencent province, Leandro directed the bike towards the east concentration camps. As they crested a hilled road, the camp was easy to spot. Leandro’s opinion, it seemed to radiate evil. Where the rest of the city was packed with skyscrapers and full of bustling life, this small portion was full of rubble. The tallest buildings were the flat prisons where the occupants were forced to spend most of their time and the rest of the plain was brown and desolate. Hignua soldiers were everywhere, and easily outnumbered the prisoners two to one.

“So, your friends are in there?” Leandro asked, breaking the silence that had begun to stretch uncomfortably between them.

“Why do you care?” Akira shot back, and began making his way down the road.

“Because they seem important to you!” Leandro shouted, trying to make himself heard as Akira continued on his way. All he got for his efforts was a disbelieving look.

“You don’t even know me.”

“But I want to!” Leandro called, trying one last time.

This time he was completely ignored, and in the blink of an eye, Akira was gone, his inky black hair blending into the darkness.

Akira was flustered, which was odd, because he couldn’t remember the last time his mind had been so disorganized. And right before his first big mission, of all things. He was so close to rescuing his friends. Layla and Rowan and Dante. All three of them had gone in undercover, to gain information on the Hignua plans for planet Direx. From what he had heard, it didn’t look good for the planet’s pulsing multicultural environment. Think, absolute destruction.

But right now it was up to him to get his friends out. Their position had been compromised earlier in the week and just thinking about the fact that they could be being tortured right that second made him walk faster. He had his sword out and ready, its telltale rebel markings faded away with the press of a concealed button on the handle. He didn’t know why he hadn’t pressed the button earlier with Leandro, why he had trusted him.

Finally, he made it to the edge of the prison camp, still using shadows for cover. He stood there counting the seconds between patrols and learning the rhythm, but his anxiousness made him rush, and he darted out of his hiding spot a moment too soon. The last patrol turned around quickly at the sound of his footsteps, immediately raising their guns.

“HALT, and give verification.”

The voice beneath the helmet was robotic, meaning they were only sentries. Akira gritted his teeth and charged, taking down the two enemy fighters with four blows. He knew he didn’t have time to hide the bodies, so he sprinted onwards, towards the main building, where he knew Layla, Rowan, and Dante were being kept.

Back up on the hill, Leandro was having something of a crisis. When you give someone a ride to their rebel mission, do you stay and make sure they have a getaway vehicle? Especially if you really, really want to get that someone’s number? Should he have gone with Akira to help him break his friends out and prove that he actually did care? No other social situation had prepared him for any of these questions he was asking himself now. Even using the binoculars he kept stored in his seat compartment he couldn’t spot Akira’s lithe form as it inevitably hurried towards the center of the prison.

Leandro was so invested in looking for Akira that he nearly jumped five feet into the air as an alarm suddenly rang out. Loud and piercing, it was easily identifiable as a warning bell. With every renewed ring, Leandro grew more antsy. Finally he had had enough.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and double checked that he had both of his pistols. Then he began sprinting as fast as he could down the hill.

Akira was making progress. He had entered the main cell facility as soon as the alarm had gone off, already taken out a dozen guards, and was now standing at the door to his friends’ cell. Probably where they were kept when they weren’t being interrogated. All it took for the door to open was a quick, vicious stab of his sword into the lock.

When he spotted his friends, his knees wobbled a bit in relief. All of them were handcuffed, and shouted with relief when they saw him. Layla’s mouse-brown hair was sticking up in all directions and her green eyes, normally skeptical and cold, were warm and filled with emotion. Her brother would be relieved to see her with no extreme injuries. Rowan’s lanky limbs were sprawled out in front of her, where she was sitting against the wall. Most of her long blonde hair had come out of its normal braid, covering most of her face. Dante looked to be in the worst shape; his normally tan skin was pale and his ankle was resting at unnatural angle. He was the only one to not exclaim when he barged in.

After a quick removal of all of their bonds, Akira and Rowan helped Dante to his feet. Akira pulled knife out of his boot and handed it to Layla with a loaded expression. Even though she was more accustomed to computers and hacking, Layla knew how to use a blade. They began to make their way out of the building, moving way too slowly for Akira’s tastes.

As they reached the end of the hallway, they began to hear the echo of laser shots in the distance. Akira barely spared the noise a thought, knowing that any distraction was a good distraction. However, as the noise grew closer and closer, he began to worry. Layla turned around from where she was leading them, raising a questioning eyebrow. Turning to Rowan, he motioned her to stop.

“Rowan, you stay here with Dante. Take this,” he held out his final blade, “And don’t go anywhere unless you need to. Layla and I are going to check out the source of that noise and come straight back, I promise.”

Rowan accepted the small dagger, and pushed her hair behind her ears as she nodded, “If you don’t come back in, well, in a reasonable amount of time, I’m going after you.”

After a parting nod, Akira led the way towards the commotion, Layla trotting after him, having to work harder because of her short legs. Rounding the corner, they both stopped in their tracks.

“Who the quiznak is that?” Layla exclaimed.

It was Leandro, and he was holding off a lot of Hignua. He held a blaster in both hands, and was taking down soldiers with astoundingly accurate shots to the head, easily nailing them between the eyes through their visor gap. Akira was shocked still, his sword hanging uselessly at his side.

“Le- Leandro?” he managed to choke out.

At the sound of Akira’s voice, Leandro paused, swinging around to face him. He was sweating profusely, but his expression was hard. Even so, he managed a half-hearted smile, one side of his mouth pulling higher than the other. His eyes abruptly widened as a beam whizzed past his ear, close enough that his hair began to smolder, so he immediately turned back around.

“A little help, maybe?” he shouted over the din, jerking Akira from whatever trance he had been trapped in. He dashed forward with his sword, assaulting the barricade of guards, Layla close behind him, still shouting questions about Leandro.

He found himself surrounded, fighting back to back with her, stabbing and slashing as Leandro’s friendly fire caused havoc around them.

“So when did you meet the cute sharpshooter?” Layla called over her shoulder.

Akira jerked like he had touched an electric fence, and barely ducked a wide punch from a nearby Hignua.

“He’s our ride to the ship,” he grunted, still fighting, “And why do you care if he’s cute? Aren’t you like, twelve?”

“I’m fifteen!” she protested. Indignant.

Soon, the hallway was filled with incapacitated Hignua guards, and the three of them just stood there, staring and panting, before Layla finally spoke.

“So are you gonna introduce me or…” she trailed off.

Akira rolled his eyes and gestured between the two of them, “Layla, Leandro, Leandro this is Layla. Both of you are annoying so you’ll get along fine.”

Both of the indicated subjects began to protests, but Akira waved at them to be quiet and turned around to go and get Rowan and Dante. Ten minutes later, the entire group, now one member stronger hurried outside and into the surrounding hills. When they reached Leandro’s bike a problem soon became apparent.

“How in the multiverse are we all supposed to fit on that?” Layla exclaimed.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Rowan offered.

Leandro smiled at them, and Akira rolled his eyes at the obviously flirtatious look.

“Not to worry ladies, my bike is well equipped,” he announced, reaching around the handlebars to press a cleverly hidden button. With a rusty-sounding groan, two panels began to unfold from the sides of the bike, covering the giant fans that created the lift needed to get off the ground. When the expansion was finally complete, there was ample room for three more passengers, but no seats or seat belts in sight.

“So I usually just use this function to carry groceries, but I’m sure it can manage people as well. You’ll just have to hang on tight,” Leandro explained. He hopped into the driver’s seat, and the others helped him load Dante into the second seat, since it wouldn’t be safe for him on the extended area with his bad leg.

Finally, they were all ready and situated. Akira gave Leandro the directions to their ship, and as he pulled away, Akira let out a breath of relief. His first mission definitely hadn’t gone as planned, but he was thinking that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

[pennywaltzy]

The Cacophony Of Life (2/6)

AN UPDATE! SHOCKGASP! I KNOW!

Here’s an introduction to their preteen years. Enjoy (especially you, @elliedilly...I know you’ve been waiting forever).

The Cacophony Of Life - From birth, every person can hear the music that their soul mate hears, whether it’s music that they’re playing, listening to or singing along to, in their mind. Measures can be taken to lessen the sound, but there are times when the sound is too much, too overwhelming. For years, Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper use their connection to each other through the music they both hear to communicate: first to annoy each other as children, then to care for each other as teenagers and young adults, and finally to express the longing that hopefully one day, and one day soon, they’ll meet each other face to face and express the love that’s grown between them throughout the years.

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Help Me Survive? | Commission Me?

May 1990 Molly Depeche Mode, “Enjoy The Silence” Sherlock Frédéric Chopin, “Prelude in E-Minor (op.28 no. 4”

She was starting to hate the smell of hospitals.

Dad was in the hospital again, though Mum swore he’d be out and about in no time, but they both thought she didn’t hear them when they talked at night. Sound carried in their little home in Bozeat, especially at night, when her room was quiet and so was her head.

Like she wished it was now.

She could tell her headmate was playing the music again. Was there nothing he...she...couldn’t do? She could barely dance and they were a bloody prodigy! It wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair, not at all.

She took her cassette player and went outside, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Dad may come home, yeah, but this wasn’t going to end well. The hospital visits were becoming more frequent, the whispered conversations at home becoming more urgent, and she knew the truth even if her parents didn’t want to admit it: they had less time with her dad being alive than ever before. Maybe a few years, maybe a year, maybe months…

She jammed on her headphones and thumbed the volume dial all the way up. Yeah, sure, it could hurt her hearing but she didn’t care. Soon the soothing sounds of Dave Gahan’s voice filled her ears, drowning out the classical music a bit more.

Words like violence Break the silence Come crashing in Into my little world Painful to me Pierce right through me Can't you understand Oh my little girl

It took her a few moments to realize the other music, the music her headmate was creating, was slowing. It wasn’t their normal abrupt halt before doubling down. It was more that they were actually...listening. The song must have been a shock, roaring through their head like it did hers, but there was no retaliation.

Not this time.

All I ever wanted All I ever needed Is here in my arms Words are very unnecessary They can only do harm

And then, seemingly, they picked up the melody, playing a counterpoint, and she stopped in her tracks. This wasn’t the sort of music their headmate liked but they were...comforting her?

The tears fell and they couldn’t stop, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Someone was there, someone maybe cared. Maybe they didn’t know it all but...this was a change.

A change she needed oh so badly.

September 1991 Sherlock Johannes Brahms, “Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 77 - III. Allegro giocoso” Molly Nirvana, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”

He stood up on the platform, violin tucked under his chin. His headmate had been rather quiet the last few months, and he’d thought with there being a summer break she or he would have been playing music all the time. He certainly was. But it seemed, perhaps, he was playing to an audience of one even when he was in a room of his own. There had been a comfort in that, that the two of them were no longer being childish.

It was...nice.

Nice things had been in short supply when there had been an increase in the fights in the household. His family would never yell, no, but things changed. It decidedly got colder, darker…

Lonelier.

So for his headmate to let him be in peace had been a blessing.

He had not started to play when suddenly there was a blaring sound in his head and he grit his teeth. Not now, not now…

Load up on guns, bring your friends It's fun to lose and to pretend She's over bored and self assured Oh no, I know a dirty word

“May I be excused for a moment?” he asked the people who were judging him and his entrance to an elite music program. They nodded and he dashed to the lobby of the building, his headmate’s song repeating stupid, meaningless lyrics until there was a pause.

With the lights out, it's less dangerous Here we are now, entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now, entertain us A mulatto An albino A mosquito My libido Yeah, hey, yay

He laid his bow across the strings and then made the most horrific sound he could and the sound cut off in his head immediately. He waited a few moments to see if his headmate turned their music back on, but there was blissful silence. He took careful steps back into the auditorium, got on the platform again, and began to play the piece by Brahms he had been practicing for months.

All to blissful, sweet silence in his head.

Except for the hum.

They had heard him play this song at least a hundred times, and he found the hum to be a pleasant accompaniment to his playing instead of a distraction. His playing got more lively, infused with feelings he couldn’t quite describe, and he felt a small smile form on his face before he closed his eyes and let the music take him away.

And then, the song was over, and the humming was gone, and he felt...alone.

But the adults were clapping and he would show his gratefulness to his headmate later, he thought to himself as he took a bow.

March 1992 Molly Guns N’ Roses, “November Rain” Sherlock Robert Alexander Schumann, “Träumerei” (as performed by Mischa Elman & Joseph Seiger)

The song played on the radio as her mum brought her home from school, a different tune in her head, giving her a headache. A trip into London, have to go, urgent. A sad song for a sad occasion. Dad had to be rushed to one of the bigger hospitals for a series of tests and she and her family were staying at a hotel nearby and she’d get a week out of school.

As if that would make it any better.

Her classmates were mean. She was losing her father, bits and pieces at a time, didn’t they care? But no, they teased about the cane he used, the wheelchair he was in sometimes, the sudden weight loss, the loss of hair…

She was losing pieces of her father a bit at a time and they didn’t care.

She felt tears at her eyes for she didn’t know how many times this week, but soon she heard the other song in her head stop and a counterpoint to the orchestral beginning and she relaxed. Rain on the outside of the car to match the song, and beautiful music in her head to remind her she wasn’t alone. She had the feeling even though there was Slash’s guitar solo in this, her headmate appreciated the long version with the orchestral beginning. They never joined in before today, but they never stopped her from listening to it. Perhaps this was a shared song to love? Who knew?

She shut her eyes and set her head against the window as the lyrics came into play, her hand against the glass and a sad smile on her face as she hummed along to Axl’s vocals.

When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained But darlin' when I hold you Don't you know I feel the same

'Cause nothin' lasts forever And we both know hearts can change And it's hard to hold a candle In the cold November rain

This might not last forever, but it was happening now, and she was so so grateful for the music in her head.

November 1993 Sherlock Giuseppe Verdi, “La Forza del Destino Overture” Molly Smashing Pumpkins, “Mayonaise”

For once, the music on his record player and the music in his head, though at odds, were a blessing. There was a row going on downstairs and so one of his favourite overtures was playing as loudly as the record player could play it. He knew his parents may be upset but frankly, he didn’t care. He didn’t care much about pleasing them in any shape or form since he knew he was going to be sent off to another boarding school soon.

Was this all his own fault? No, not really. He had a set of skills, he put them to use and instead of making the world better he was laughed off. Well, he’d show them one day. One day, everyone would know who he was and he would be important.

His headmate had been listening to a particular album off and on over the last few weeks and he was surprised that he found it interesting. It was not his typical sort of music, a bit more...avant-garde? Experimental? But he had heard of this alternative grunge music coming out of America, in Seattle, and that seemed to be what his headmate liked. Some of it was too loud, too crass, but this particular band was rather melodic in some ways. He knew the name now of one of the songs he’d heard in his head, “Disarm,” and this one wasn’t so bad either.

Mother weep the years I'm missing All our time can't be given Back Shut my mouth and strike the demons That cursed you and your reasons Out of hand and out of season Out of love and out of feeling So bad

When I can, I will Words defy the plan When I can, I will

Fool enough to almost be it And cool enough to not quite see it And old enough to always feel this Always old, I'll always feel this

No more promise no more sorrow No longer will I follow Can anybody hear me I just want to be me When I can, I will Try to understand That when I can, I will

He made a mental note to buy himself this album the next time he went looking for vinyl, and to thank his headmate when he met them...whenever that would be.

August 1994 Molly Nine Inch Nails, “Hurt” Sherlock Sherlock Holmes, Untitled Original Compositions

I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that's real

The needle tears a hole

The old familiar sting

Try to kill it all away

But I remember everything

She felt so hollow. She’d thrown herself on her bed after the funeral and turned this song on and kept it going, over and over and over, until she had fallen asleep. Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t know.

She didn’t care.

What have I become? My sweetest friend Everyone I know Goes away in the end You could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt

It wasn’t apparent at first, but she heard something in her mind. Something...hopeful. Maybe even happy. Something that just made her want to reach out and find her headmate and hold them, have them hold her. She turned the song off and curled back onto her side, clutching the stuffed cat her father had given her when she was a baby, thinking she had no tears left to cry and yet there was new wetness on her cheeks.

The song was slow. Not because the song was meant to be slow, but it was as though her headmate was running on residual strength. But he or she kept playing, even though she imagined their arms must be so tired, so sore.

Had they been playing the entire time she was asleep? She glanced at her bedside clock and saw she’d been asleep for four hours. Four hours?!? Playing the violin for four hours straight? Bloody hell…

Soon the song tapered off after a little more, but she picked up on what the melody had begun and hummed her own version of the song. Then she wasn’t alone. There was a soft humming in her mind, knowingly differing the song to match her version. Soon the humming faded and she imagined her headmate had exhausted themselves.

But she kept humming until she, too, fell asleep, knowing she owed her headmate more than they could ever imagine.

[theshatteredrose]

The Treasure Seeker: Saga 1 - Chapter 1 (Etrian Odyssey 5 Fanfiction)

Summary: Dragoon Drayce Pendragon comes from a long line of notorious treasure hunters and rebellious archaeologists. When he is asked by Prince Ramus himself to enter Yggdrasil, his goal isn't to be the first to reach the highest branch or defeat the strongest monster. His goal is to document every myth and find every treasure rumoured to be inside - and outside - the mysterious Yggdrasil. To do that, however, he needs a guild. Fortunately he has inherited his own ridiculously large guildhouse to house them in!

Pairings: To be revealed later, but honestly go all out, I don't mind :P

Warnings: The usual - gayness, bro-ness, male relationships of all kinds, violence, action, swearing, fluffiness, doing my own shit and ignoring canon

AN: Yay, finally starting an EO5 book~! I’ve been talking about it a lot so I thought I better bite the bullet and start it :D Before I start, though, I need to clarify a few things. One; I am not necessarily following canon here. I’m taking some canon information and just running with it because, well, why not? I’m doing my own thing and making up my own shit, as I usually do. There will probably be a few spoilers here or there, but I won’t go into great detail. So, yeah, no asking why I didn’t do this or why I did that when it wasn’t in the game. I’m taking some artistic liberties here and running with them.

Two; I’m going out of my usual norm and trying something different. Instead of a 40+ chaptered novel, I’m going more for short saga series, concentrating on a floor at a time. Ambitious? Absolutely. How far will I take it? Let’s see~

That’s all I can think of at the moment. I’m excited about finally starting a new series and I hope you’ll enjoy reading this as well. I’ll try to update at least once a week, but I’ll be sure to warn you if I can’t.

Ok, enough of that! Hope you enjoy reading and be sure to check out my other sites and leave encouragement because that is always greatly appreciated~

Wattpad | AO3 | FF.Net

Chapter 1:

~*~*~*~*~*~

The horse driven carriage rambled along the stone paved roads that led into the city of Iorys. The sun was high in the sky of clear blue, not a cloud to be seen. But what was the most notable was the large tree that stood above the bustling city. With its far reaching branches, reaching well beyond the limit of the naked eye and the twisting, some would say spirally dancing trunk and spiralling roots that reached deep into the earth.

Yggdrasil.

The mythical Tree of Life, as some cultures claim.

Drayce rested his elbow upon the window of his carriage and stared up at the mighty tree. While many found the tree to be daunting, with its twisting branches and mysterious glows of purple and blue seen higher up, Drayce saw it as a dream come true to be finally allowed to traverse the mysterious labyrinth found inside.

For over a thousand years the tree and any exploration had been completely forbidden in the wake of the devastating Legendary War. It had been magically protected by powerful Celestians and feverishly guarded by Earthlain royals.

Though Yggdrasil had been sealed away, the myths and legends of the mighty tree continued still. And with it, the seemingly never ending gossip and tales of powerful treasures. The most famous, in the treasure hunting community at least, was the legendary treasures that the infamous and dangerous royal simply known as the Despot had acquired and then hidden, for he was the one responsible for the devastations of Yggdrasil all those years ago.

Drayce knew all about the treasures and myths of the Legendary War. He, after all, came from a long line of feisty treasure hunters and rebellious archaeologists. The Pendragon Boys as they were often known as. With his skills as a dragoon, there wasn't a place on this planet that he wasn't willing to venture.

Tearing his gaze away from the tree, Drayce looked down at the scroll in his hand. The one with the royal Iorys seal.

To think that he was lucky enough, that his family was notorious enough, to be asked by Prince Ramus of the Earthlain people to visit and to, hopefully, work with or for him in the hopes of recovering ancient treasures that were lost during the Legendary War.

Honestly, it was a dream job for anyone, let alone someone who had been raised as a treasure hunter and archaeologist.

His request to visit Iorys came at the best time, actually. His grandfather left him the deed to his ramshackle guildhouse before he took off on a so-called “Merry Adventure”. Adventures he was prone too. Old age hadn’t slowed him down in the slightest. But there was a good reason for that now.

His beloved wife passed away just a couple of months ago. And since then, he had been on many adventures.

Though it was probably wrong to think, but Drayce did believe that after his grandmother's death, his grandfather simply lost the plot and threw himself back into exploration in order to hide his grief at his beloved wife's death. And to, perhaps, mourn on his own for a while.

He could understand why his grandfather would do such a thing. His grandparents had been married for well over 50 years. Childhood sweethearts. He loved her to bits. They were also so affectionate in a sweet way. And his grandmamma was such a beloved and key figure in his life that Drayce himself still felt the sting of her passing. She was and always well be sorely missed by many.

It probably didn’t help matters that many people from the treasure hunting community and their village believed that his grandmother, or Grandmamma as he called her, died from a broken heart. Drayce felt that it was true. He knew it was. He just…couldn’t remember who or what it was that broke her heart.

Drayce idly rubbed at his right temple with the heel of his palm as he fingers curled into his short red hair. His Grandmamma’s heart must have been broken about the same time he lost part of his memories. When he was about nine years old. He could remember vague things of his childhood, but they were just that. Vague. And they didn’t make sense.

He couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. Something important. Something that was…very important to him. A part of him.

“Hey, Hotshot, quit daydreaming, we’re almost at the centre of Iorys.”

With a shake of his head, Drayce pulled himself from his thoughts and lifted his gaze to look at the blue-haired man that sat across from him in the carriage. With his narrow eyes and stern pout constantly on his lips, Blayke, his best friend, looked like the perpetual sour-puss. He was oh-so easy to rile up, though, and had a limit supply of patience.

But as a fencer, he was sharp-witted, quick on his feet, and willing to fight by Drayce’s side no matter what kind of trouble they found themselves in. Sure, he would bitch and moan at Drayce about it later, but Drayce knew he enjoyed the thrill of danger and adventure, too.

And Drayce love rubbing that in his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Drayce said as he carefully placed the royal scroll into his red jacket and rested his elbow on his knees. “Do you think we should visit the Royal Council first, or stop by the guildhouse and drop off our belongings?”

Blayke folded his arms across his chest. “It’s your call. But personally I think we should visit the Council Hall first. Knowing you, you’ll get caught up inspecting every nook and cranny at your grandfather’s old guildhouse that you would forget to visit the Council at all.”

Drayce gave him a disgruntled pout. “Wow, rude.”

Blayke, however, just gave him a bland look. “Am I wrong?”

“I didn’t say you were wrong, only that you were rude,” Drayce quickly countered with a grin.

As per usual after their bantering, Blayke just rolled his eyes and ignored him. Well, appear as if he was ignoring him.

When Blayke heard that Drayce had virtually been summoned to Iorys by the Council, he agreed to accompany him. Something along the lines of Drayce needing a keeper because he would often get too caught up in his treasure hunting duties that he would forget to eat. Or something like that. But Drayce was fairly certain, almost a hundred precent certain, that Blayke was just using that as an excuse to cover up the fact that he enjoyed and dreamed of being an explorer as well.

Besides, Drayce couldn’t traverse the labyrinth alone. He was energetic and gung-ho for certain, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that trapesing along the dangerous paths of the ancient maze alone, without any prior knowledge at least, would be all but suicidal.

“But you’re right. Let’s head to the Council Hall first,” Drayce said. “Prince Ramus would be waiting, after all.”

With a nod of his head, Blayke unfolded his arms and turned in his seat to speak up to their driver, directing him to stop by the council building first. They then fell into silence as they turned their attention to the passing scenery outside of their windows.

The streets of Iorys were bustling with people of all shapes and sizes. Some dressed in normal attire, seemingly going about their normal lives, while others were in explorer clothing, weapons and shields at their sides. And there were quite a large number of would-be adventurers to be seen. The four races of Earthlain, Celestian, Brounii, and Therian mingling together effortlessly, all excited to venture into the labyrinth and hopefully place their guildname into the royal achieves as the one to have conquered the labyrinth.

Seeing everyone, seeing all the potential explorers increased Drayce’s own enthusiasm and energy. He couldn’t wait to establish his own guild and head into the labyrinth himself. He had heard so many tales and myths regarding the mysterious but naturally formed pathways, after all.

After a few minutes of openly admiring the beautiful scenery of Iorys, the driver of their horse-driven carriage announced to them that they have reached their destination.

Drayce was the first to step from the carriage with Blayke close behind him. He took a few moments to stretch his legs and to look around. The first thing he noticed, besides the marble white architecture and brick red roofing tiles of the Council Building was the fact that the building was perched atop of a rocky curvature overlooking the city below. And that the thick truck of Yggdrasil was so close, almost as if he could reach out and touch it.

He would also get vertigo if he tried to tilt his head back enough to look up at its tallest branches.

From where he stood, he could sense the magmatic energy of Yggdrasil. And how it seemed to reach beyond even the heavens.

It was truly beautiful.

“I’ve asked the driver to wait for us here,” Blayke’s voice pulled Drayce from his thoughts. “So let’s get going.”

Drayce nodded his head as he turned his gaze away from Yggdrasil and followed Blakye to the entrance of the Council Building. As they walked silently up the stone steps, they both noticed that groups of explorers were venturing in and out as well. Some appeared to be excitedly talking amongst themselves, while others appeared huffy and annoyed.

Their varying expressions were most likely in response to a particular mission. Drayce had heard on the grapevine that though the labyrinth was open to explorers, they weren’t willing to have anyone and everyone enter at will. A mission was created to prove themselves, not only as explorers but as citizens of Iorys.

Made perfect sense, but many were no doubt annoyed at the so-called restrictions.

As they made their way inside, Drayce had to pause once again to admire his surroundings.

The architecture was incredible. Exquisite. The sandstone pillars with gold trimmings, the chess-inspired flooring of precision made stones of high quality, the marble statues that stood at attention; time and loving dedication was clear to be seen.

The building had to be more than three-hundred years old. He could tell by the mosaic designs on the walls and ceiling. Yet it was in remarkably good shape. Well taken care of.

Hmm…since it was made over three-hundred years ago, there was the high possibility that there were hidden servant quarters and passageways. There would also be quite an extensive library. Perhaps even a hidden library.

In the years after the Legendary War, there was still a great amount of uncertainty. The architects of that time period were renowned for creating secret safe rooms and passageways. Preparing for the possibility of another devastating war.

Blayke hitting the back of his head with his hand pulled Drayce from his musings and he immediately turned to look at him with a disgruntled pout. Before he could mutter the words “You didn’t need to hit me” as he raked his hand through his short red hair, something he always did just after Blayke physically pulled him from his ponderings, the blue-haired fencer arched an annoyed eyebrow at him.

“We’re here to explore the labyrinth, not the council building,” he said, seemingly responding as if he had somehow read his mind. Or simply knew what he was thinking.

The fact that Drayce had been holding his chin as he stared at his surroundings and mumbling under his breath probably gave it away, too.

“Try to keep your head on straight when you’re speaking with Prince Ramus,” Blayke continued to scold and fuss.

Drayce rolled his eyes and reached into his jacket to pull out the scroll requesting his presence. “I promise not to make a fool of myself and get us kicked out. But get ready to run before he calls the guards.”

Entering into a long and brightly lit hallway that was lined with white statues of various classes and standings, they approached a set of stairs where other explorers had gathered. At the top of the small staircase was a figure in royal garbs flanked by two guards who watched everyone with caution.

A young man, seemingly no older than sixteen, with dark blue hair and bright blue eyes, smiled politely at Drayce and Blayke as the two approached him. “Hello,” he greeted simply. “Are you explorers wishing to enter the labyrinth?”

“Well, yes,” Drayce said as he held out his summoning letter to the young man. “But for good reason.”

The young man looked both puzzled but expectant as he took the scroll from him. As he unfurled his, his eyes widened and for a fraction of a second, an expression of excitement appeared in his eyes. He soon squashed that, however, with a look of royal politeness.

“Ah, yes, thank you for coming all this way,” he said as he handed the scroll back to Drayce before he bowed his head slightly as he introduced himself. “I am Ramus, Prince of Earthlain Royalty. Please, call me Ramus.”

“It’s nice to meet you, and to be here,” Drayce said in earnest. “My name is Drayce Pendragon,” he introduced himself and reached around to loop an arm around Blayke’s neck in order to drag him closer and to poke his cheek with his finger.

“And this is my partner in crime, Blayke.”

Blayke immediately frowned and squirmed in Drayce’s grip, tugging at his arm with both hands. “I’m here to keep you out of trouble,” he all but hissed.

The corner of Ramus’ mouth twitched for a moment, as if wanting to break out into an amused smile, but royal protocol seemed to prohibit it, so he simply nodded his head.

“Come, let us speak more in my office,” Ramus said as he turned to lead them.

Drayce released his hold on Blayke and silently the two followed the young prince. After a moment of walking along plush blue carpet and taking a few corners, they reached a set of doors with gold trimming of eccentric designs. With a single push of his hand, Ramus opened one of the doors and motioned for Drayce and Blayke to step inside before him.

Ramus’ office was as grand and beautiful as the architecture outside the room. A large desk made of red wood, polished to a bright sheen was situated in the middle of the room, surrounded by cabinets and bookcases, all filled to capacity.

True to his treasure hunting nature, Drayce felt the urge and need to look through the bookcases and drawers for anything hidden or interesting. He, however, shook it off as even though he meant no harm, the need born out of sheer intrigue rather than malicious nosiness, it was still seen as highly intrusive to dig through someone else’s belongings.

But, man, were his fingers twitching.

“Again, thank you for coming all this way,” Ramus said as he led Drayce and Blayke to his desk and to the two chairs that sat before it. “It is reassuring to have someone from the famous treasure hunting clan here in the city of Iorys.”

Drayce smiled a friendly smile as he sat down and rested his hands atop of his knees. “It’s an honour to be here,” he said, sounding like a true professional. Wouldn’t Grandmamma be proud?

Ramus moved to the other side of his desk, of which honestly looked too big for him, and sat down in a red-velvet, high back chair. That also looked too big for him. “Do you mind if I get straight to the point?” he unexpectedly asked.

“Not at all,” Drayce immediately responded. “In fact, I prefer it.”

“Thank you,” Ramus once again spoke politely before he folded his hands atop of his desk and a serious expression appeared on his face. “I’m sure you you’ve already concluded to the reason why I’ve summoned you here. And in short, yes, I wish for you to find information on the whereabouts on the lost treasures of the Legendary War.”

Ah, just finding information? Drayce was hoping to actually find the legendary treasures, too. Not so much for himself, but more so to keep them away and safe from others as, if legends and tales were any indication, these treasures were so important, so powerful that the Despot himself hid them in magically sealed vaults. These treasures were reputed to be powerful.

Myth or not, it would be best if they don’t fall in the wrong hands.

“Yeah, I know all about the Lost Treasures,” Drayce said as he leaned back into his chair. “Legend says that the Despot took the knowledge and information of whereabouts of his precious treasures with him to his grave. These treasures were so important to him that he created vaults to seal them away in. Vaults with three locks; a physical lock that requires a key, a magic lock that requires a spell to release, and a mental lock that requires the one trying to open the vault to solve a seemingly unsolvable puzzle.”

“Doesn’t legend also say that there are at least ten of them?” Blayke asked. “And that doesn’t count the myths and tales regarding the Despot’s most trusted war generals and commanders. They have their own legends about their ruthlessness before and during the war.”

Ramus gave them a sympathetic look as he nodded his head. “Yggdrasil itself has many myths and legends pertaining to it. Tales of before and after the Legendary War. In the search for information regarding the Lost Treasures, you are likely to encounter other fables of hidden treasures, too. Perhaps some tales that are meant to draw you away from seeking the Lost Treasures.”

Yggdrasil was over a thousand years old. Plenty of time for legends and myths, as well as beliefs and cults, to rise and fall.

So much to learn and find.

“Sounds awesome,” Drayce said as he smiled broadly. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Ramus smiled an honest smile but he soon frowned slightly. “But…” he unexpectedly paused for a moment to bite his lips together. “I can’t necessarily allow you free reign of the labyrinth. Well, not yet. There are certain protocols in place. Even for professionals.”

Drayce immediately knew what he was inferring. “Ah, you want to test my mantle with a mission, right? The same one that other guilds and explorers are having to complete?”

Ramus gave him a small, polite smile and almost hesitantly, as if afraid of offending him, nodded his head.

“No, that’s completely fair,” Drayce replied good-naturedly and smiled when he saw Ramus’ shoulder drop a fraction in relief. “I didn’t come here expecting special treatment or to step on anyone’s toes. Besides, this mission would be a good indicator to what to expect in the labyrinth. A win for the both of us in the end.”

“I’m honestly pleased by your understanding and enthusiasm,” Ramus said, his smile still courteously polite, and yet appeared more sincere nonetheless. “If you wish, I will give you the information and supplies needed to start on your first mission now. There is no need for you to rush, though, as you have only just arrived in Iorys. Please take your time. You will need to form a band of fellow explorers first, yes?”

Drayce nodded his head. “This is our first time visiting Iorys, so I’m sure there’s still a lot for us to see outside the labyrinth, too. But we will take the first mission now. At least register for it.”

“Hm,” Ramus simply said as he rummaged around in his desk before pulling out a parchment of paper and a form of some kind. “I suggest that you visit Egar, the guild leader, and register a guildname for yourselves.”

“Good place to start,” Drayce answered back idly.

“Would you like for me to suggest an inn where you can take up lodgings?” Ramus asked as he handed over the documents.

Drayce shook his head as he reached forward to retrieve the information on the first mission and pushed himself to his feet. “Nah, we’re good,” he said with a smile. “We have a place already planned.”

Ramus looked somewhat surprised, but that soon turned to intrigue. “But this is your first time setting foot upon Iorys’ soil, yes?”

“It is,” Drayce answered before a large grin slipped across his lips. “But I’m from a longline of treasure hunters, remember? I have connections. My grandfather owns an estate here in Iorys. We have all the accommodation we need. Don’t you worry too much about us.”

With a few polite farewells, Drayce and Blayke walked out of the Council Building and back to their awaiting horse and carriage.

Their next stop was his grandfather’s estate, where they were to meet up with Ashton, his father’s trusted understudy who had already migrated to Iorys a few months before. And after that? Well, looks like he would need to head out into Iorys and find some willing guild members to drag along on his adventures.

Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

[gaiyofanfiction]

Unexpected Consequence 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Got7 x Reader

Gang!Au

Angst

A/N: Yay! Another chapter in the same day! This really is a treat. Not only is it a second chapter in the same day, but this is a very long and detailed chapter. We know you all will love it! Please leave reviews so we know that you guys are liking everything.

Disclaimer: This story is not in any way shape or form true. This is purely fiction. All the boys from Got7 are very sweet and charming guys that wouldn't hurt a fly. I love them all so much. So please, check them out! They are amazing people.

Trigger Warning: There will be swearing, kidnapping, holding hostage, torture and mentions of killing and drugs. So if you are uncomfortable with any of this, please don't read!

Chapter 6:

“Hey, are you hungry?”

        You looked at Jinyoung with uncertainty and confusion. He rolled his eyes and grabs your wrist. “Just come on. We’re not going to hurt you.” You scoff at him. “Er, not anymore anyway. Besides, you need to eat.”

        You let Jinyoung try to drag you along but your legs shake from the pain of the cuts. He turns his to see that you’ve stopped. You don’t notice guilt flashed though his eyes. He sighs and to your surprise, he grabs you before you could buckle and sweeps you off your feet (literally). He carried you in his arms down the hall to the kitchen. You do everything to hide your blushing face from him while his face stayed forward and emotionless.

        He sets you down outside the door of the kitchen. He goes to help you walk in but you hesitate. He gently grabs your hand and pulls you inside of the room. All eyes were on you as you walk in. You take the seat between Yugyeom and Jinyoung, swallowing the lump in your throat.

        “Well, what do we have here?” JB nudged at Jinyoung a couple of times.

        Jinyoung shrugs, not looking up from his plate. “She looked hungry so I brought her with me.”

        Jackson snickers, “Damn, Jinyoung. I didn’t expect you to ever go soft.”

        Jinyoung shoots Jackson a glare that could kill. “You talk too much, you know that?”

         You watch the boys bicker back and forth, which made you let out a small chuckle. Silence instantly fell amongst the room as all eyes were on you again. You immediately lowered your head and gulped.

        Jackson slouches into his chair and puts both hands behind his head, “Hey, she thinks I’m funny. I like her even more now.”

        The group of boys roll their eyes at the ridiculousness of their gang member, making you giggle again. The mood at the table slightly lifts. You sit there quietly, just listening to the boys talk. It’s weird, seeing them act like normal guys. They talk about music, sports, movies and anything else normal guys talk about. You shake your head; you have to remember they aren’t normal guys. They can turn deadly at any second. They’re still boys who have blood on their hands.

        You clear your throat, making the gang look at you curiously. “C-can I ask you all a question?” You ask shyly, looking up at the group of dangerous boys.

        JB tilts his head. “If you’d like. Just be careful of what you say.”

        You awkwardly take the driest swallow and become hesitant again, turning red. “I-I was wondering how you all got into this lifestyle?” The boys sit there, silent. None of them were looking at you, but you could see their expressions turned serious. “Y-you guys don’t have to answer. I was just curious because you all just seemed like regular guys when talking.” You added quietly. Great, now I’m suddenly really anxious…what was I thinking!? I shouldn’t have asked.

        Mark looks at you and shakes his head, shooting you a soft smile. “It’s alright. We’re just surprised you asked. That’s a first for us.” He looked to each of the boys at the table and back to you. “We’re all here for different reasons, some similar to others.”

        JB nods and looks straight at you. “Some of us were born into the life, like Jackson, Mark and I. Our fathers were in the same gang together, so we’ve known each other our whole lives. Once you’re in, you can’t get out. Especially if it’s something that’s already laid out in front of you.”

        Yugyeom speaks up next. “Some of us had no choice but to turn to this life. Youngjae and I, we didn’t have it so easy. Our parents, they were abusive, but only behind closed doors. Otherwise, they always upheld the image that everything was perfect. We couldn’t take it anymore and left. We ended up being homeless for a while. It changed when we met JB; he gave us a roof over our heads and fed us in exchange for work. Right now we’d be dead without him.”

        BamBam gave you the first serious look he’s ever given you since the start of all this. It was almost concerning. “As for me? Well, let’s just say my brain operates a little differently than the rest. I was hospitalized for borderline personality disorder and Schizotypal personality disorder. I’ve never been good with relationships, romantic or platonic, which included my family. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told. My memory isn’t so good… They did EST. Have you ever heard of that? It’s electroshock therapy. Psh…Like that was supposed to “cure” me. My parents stopped paying the hospital bills and the next thing I knew, I was thrown out on the street. Being alone with my mental disorders and not knowing what’s going on caused a lot of problems. But that’s when JB found me. He looked past my issues and along with Youngjae and Gyeom, he gave me a place to live in exchange for work.”

        You nod your head in awe and understanding. “Wow BamBam, I never thought you were this serious about something.” His solemn look turned back into his crazy smile again. “And that’s gone.” He chuckles as you roll your eyes.

        JB clears his throat and continues. “Out of everyone, though, the reason why Jinyoung is here is probably the worst story.”

        You nod your head, “Yeah, he told me.” You reply softly, which made JB slightly surprised, but he didn’t think much of it.

        You take a look around at the boys in front of you. When you first arrived here, you thought they were just sick and twisted guys who got a kick out of killing, torturing and making money in any way they could. But, after hearing all their stories, you realize that this is a family. A slightly fucked up family, but still a family nonetheless. They have each other’s backs, no matter what happens. You smile to yourself. Maybe you could survive through this. They’re warming up to you and honestly, you don’t mind being here at this moment. 'Maybe I’m just as fucked up as them…heh.'

        JB’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Anyway, considering this dinner is now over, it would be best to take you back to your room.” Jinyoung nods and stands to help you back to the room. “Actually, Jinyoung I need to speak with you for a moment. Youngjae, could you escort Miss Y/N back to her room? She looks tired.”

        Youngjae nods and helps you up, half carrying you on his back. You’re slightly disappointed it wasn’t Jinyoung taking you.

        Once you leave, JB turns to Jinyoung. “You have a thing for her, don’t you?” He blurts out.

        Jinyoung  instantly turns red and scoffs. “What? You’re fucking delusional. Why the hell would I be into someone like her? She’s nuts.”

        BamBam taunts Jinyoung by tilting his head back and forth on each side. “The guy who tortures people for a living is calling someone else nuts.” He bent over laughing hysterically.

        “You clearly shouldn’t be talking either, Bam.” Jinyoung immediately shot back.

        JB and Mark groan in frustration as Jackson and Yugyeom encourage this little argument between the two.

        All of a sudden there was an electrical whirring noise. Each light, one by one, in each room, and down the hall turned off.

        “What the hell happened to the lights?” Jackson asks, putting his hands out in front of him. “Damnit, Youngjae! FIX THE DAMN LIGHTS!” Without an answer from their fellow gang member, they all knew something was wrong.

        The building was silent. All you could hear was the gang heavily breathing in anticipation of an update from Youngjae. Suddenly, a loud scream filled the hallway. JB immediately signaled his gang, “GOT7 FALL OUT!”. The rest of the gang grunted and took formation. Mark and Jackson bolted toward where the scream originated and the rest followed.

        Another scream filled the hallway but from a different position. Though Mark and Jackson were the swiftest, they couldn’t make out the location. The third and very last scream could have been heard for miles. Prominent as it was, the gang still couldn’t make out the very location it came from. But, what was different about this scream was a cry for help.  It was a cry for a person’s name.

        “JINYOUNG! PLEASE HELP ME!” Glass shattered and was scattered all over the floor.

        “Damnit, they’re getting away through the window!” Both Mark and Jackson scale the wall in hopes of apprehending the culprits, but alas there was nobody.

        Jinyoung yells back for you without delay, “Y/N!”.  He frantically tries to find the door, but the lights came back on and you were nowhere to be found. 'She…She called for me…Why me.' Jinyoung fell to his knees and blankly stared off.

        JB rushed over to an unconscious Youngjae. “Hey, Youngjae! Buddy, what happened?!” He tries to shake the boy awake.

        Youngjae groans as he tries to sit up, still slightly dizzy. “I-I’m not sure. I was just taking Y/N back to her room when suddenly the lights turned off. Then I was hit over the head with something and that’s all I can remember.”

        Jinyoung snaps out it and pushes JB to the side to speak to Youngjae. “Y/N! Where is she! What happened to her!” He inquired so persistently.

        Youngjae pushed himself off the floor, staggering slightly. “Did you not hear me? I-I don’t know! I was hit and bam…she was gone. Help me to the security room and let me look at the footage”.

                JB and Jackson help Youngjae to the security room. He sits in his chair and shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the dizzy spells. He quickly pulls up the footage from a few minutes ago. “There! We had a break in. Looks like there were two of them.”

         Jinyoung squints at the screen in front of him. “Zoom in closer so we can see if we can recognize them.” Youngjae nodded and zooms in on one of the still frames. Jinyoung immediately notices something and shoves Youngjae off the chair.

        Youngjae tries to recover again, “H-Hey! What gives! I’m trying to –“

        “SHUTUP!” As Jinyoung stares into the screen, the rest of the gang shows up to the security room.

        “Do you see anything that could help us identify them?” Mark inquired.

        “They didn’t leave any evidence behind…the footage is the only thing we got now”, Jackson said right after.

        Jinyoung mumbles to himself, as he’s clicking buttons trying to fixate on one specific spot of the frame.

        “There.”

         JB helps stabilize Youngjae and then stands next to Jinyoung, “What do you see Jinyoung?” Jinyoung’s face turned sheet white. He couldn’t move. It was like he had seen a ghost.

         “No…That…That guy. His left wrist has a dragon tattoo on it…”