#you do need to make certain choices to get here but i foresee a good number of you getting it 😉

[redo-rewind-if]

Huh, I wonder what prompted this reaction...? 🤔

[drbased]

I don't think I'm ever going to be reblogging those posts that say something along the lines of 'unfortunately you have to do the Good Things in order to feel better' because I really don't think that line of thinking is sustainable. And I think those kinds of posts really miss the core problem, they're jumping to the end goal. Yes, you can do it the long and slow way round by surrounding yourself with good and healthy stimulus until you build this sense of trust in your ability to have sustained happiness but also... the moment some big life event knocks you over, you've not really ever gained an understanding of why anything works or what - or who - all of this is ultimately for, and you're back to square one. You end up treating your mind as some sort of machine or logic gateway, rather than it being you. Yes, eating healthily, going on walks, having a wash etc. etc. all help you, but if foresee a life where you're going to be forcing yourself to do them forever, I genuinely don't think that's sustainable for you. In the end, you have to want to do these things, and you can't make someone want something. If you're forcing yourself to get out of bed, then that simply means there's some part of you that wants to stay in bed - and treating that part of you as some aberrant tumour that needs to be forcefully cut off necessitates refusing to respect that, for better or for worse, that part of you is part of you. And what does someone do when they feel ignored? They shout louder.

The thing I've come to understand is that our selfhood is necessarily complete: we already know everything about our selves because we are ourselves. And this is reflected in how the mind works. Think about it: as all sorts of mental health theory has shown us, mental illnesses and addictions are as metaphorical as they are physical, and each of them seem calculated to elicit a certain psychological effect. It's almost as if our minds know exactly what harm they want and how to achieve that harm. The first realisation I had that prompted my entire journey was the suspicion that if I bristle against the advice that people have given me about my mental health in the past, then I must have a point of view - you can't disagree with something if you don't have an opinion on it! So I took the plunge into asking myself that if I don't like those answers, then what do I believe will help me? And thus started a series of revelations about the nature of my 'self' - specifically this realisation that the self, by its inherent nature, knows itself, and knows exactly what it needs.

Now, I am not a professional and I cannot say for sure how 'pure' the self's self-knowledge is - I am fortunate to have had mental illnesses on the 'mild' end of the scale - but what I have noticed is that every single one of my problems that I once thought to be completely impenetrable and unknowable are both accessible and answerable. There isn't a single issue I have had that I haven't been able to recognise, address and negotiate with. This understanding has opened me up to an entirely new and freeing approach to my own selfhood in relation to the world. I don't need to force myself to do the Good Thing, because I have learned to pay attention to what my selfhood naturally requires; as a result of my shiny new Want I want to respect myself, and I understand the underlying mechanics of what doing the Good Things communicates to me about my respect to myself: I make conscious choices out of conscious love, rather than grumbling to myself 'I will go on this stupid walk to make my stupid mental health better'. This is why I say that those posts jump to the end, trying to force an outcome, trying to Around when The Only Way Out Is Through.

In treating my mental illness as an absence of selfhood rather than a deviant selfhood, I learned to respect myself in my entirety, and as a result I've learned all sorts of things which I have been able to communicate both in real life and on here. Obviously I'm still in the really early stages of this process but I've documented what a radical change it has made in my life already. And it's worth saying that since I started this journey I don't have depression(tm) anymore, whereas I keep seeing these 'You Must Do The Good Thing, Sorry' posts shared by people whom I know still suffer from depression, or at least are on the website infamously full of people with depression. I see time and time again this attempt by people going through mental health problems to come up with what are essentially get-mentally well-quick-schemes - sometimes they are literally 'I discovered this neat trick yesterday' - and whilst I guess it's better to do something rather than nothing they do make me feel very uncomfortable. And yes, I know, a lot of what I write is not much different than that, and perhaps I am a major hypocrite. But I can't help but notice how all all these mental health posts are obsessed with tricking yourself and doing some sort of mechanical jump-start - y'know, everything other than treating yourself as a naturally subjective individual entity: a person. It's like how I never understood the whole 'put a jellybean every other paragraph to incentivise reading that far' - like, I'm sorry but I'm just not that stupid, I'm very consciously aware that I can just eat the damn jelly bean any time, yanno? So trying to trick myself like that is me actively telling myself that I'm stupid and vapid with no object permanence and I'm fucking not that.

Thinking of myself as a bundle of impulses I ultimately have no control over and have to manage like the owner of a defective machine is the ideology that fueled my depression - I still call the collection of symptoms I had 'depression', but I maintain that I was still a rational, thinking being throughout, and only treating myself with genuine respect - yes, even the really dark, dumb and embarrassing parts - is what gave me such an understanding of my Self that resulted in me not having those symptoms any more. Because that's just it, they're symptoms - and the 'illness' is subtractive, not additive. The illness and its symptoms fill in the gaps where my natural subjective personhood should have been - depressive episodes filled in the gaps of genuine sadness, depressive narratives of my life filled in the gaps of the inherent horror of being a human who makes choices in the real world, and being stuck in bed filled in the gaps of 'even though it's way past breakfast time so I 'should' be out of bed by now, I actually don't really want breakfast yet and I like staying in bed for a bit longer'. When I drop those 'shoulds' of doing the Good Thing, I notice that naturally, when I'm ready, I suddenly desire to the Good Thing. And I notice that I actually always wanted to do the Good Thing not because it's the Objectively Good Thing but rather because I, as an individual subjective person who naturally interprets the world and has feelings, actually like feeling good and so I want do things that make me feel good. And idk, your mileage may vary but I can't not imagine that to be a much more sustainable line of thinking.

[veilkeeper]

The Sacrifice of Souls, Part 2

alt title: why im putting corentin in the torment nexus

this is the second instalment of a 2-part essay series. the first part focused on the events of emmrich's quests, as well as my analysis and critique of his quest line overall. this part will focus specifically on the effects these choices have on the romance, as well as my thoughts on how i'm handling the events for my emmrichmancing rook, corentin.

spoilers ahead! beware that both essays are going to assume you have completed The Sacrifice of Souls and at least one of the follow up quests, Heir to the Dead or Will and Testament. if you have not, i suggest returning to this later and playing it out yourself.

so let's start with the most important question of the day:

what happens to the romance after the sacrifice of souls?

good news! no matter what you pick, the romance can continue on unabated. there's just some long-term details and tone changes that need to be considered.

if you choose to save manfred, be prepared for parenthood. previously, the game had poked at the idea of manfred being emmrich's kid, but now that manfred is talking and progressing at a rapid pace, he is in full "magic-flinging skeleton son" territory, and a romanced rook is going on that journey with emmrich. there is also now a near certainty that rook is going to outlive him—regardless of your personal headcanons, the game assumes that rook is younger than emmrich, and now that he's locked into a mortal lifespan that's something that needs to be considered. especially since, as discussed in part one, emmrich's fears of his own mortality haven't really been addressed at all.

but if you're into co-parenting a rambunctious skeleton with an older, gentlemanly necromancer (which, let's be real, is what most people signed up for when they hit those first flirt options anyway), then this path is probably exactly what you were looking for.

that said, let's talk about the lich romance angle. i was worried when i went down this path that the romance would just immediately end, but it actually doesn't! emmrich certainly wonders if it will—before he undergoes his rites, he has a conversation with rook about how they'll navigate a relationship once he's undead. he says that his senses will change, the way he feels (not about rook, but literally the way he feels) will change, and his body will be different. but they agree they can make it work, so hell yeah.

and if you like the whole "immortal lover" trope, there's some stuff here to like. the lich lords, when you arrive to bear witness to the rites, refer to rook as "challenger of the gods, volkarin's beloved", and emmrich waxes poetic about how even after rook passes, the way he feels about them will be immortalized alongside him. there's also a very sweet kiss before he goes into the rite, and rook has the opportunity to tell him they love him, just in case he doesn't come back out. and afterwards, they have a powerful, immortal skeleton boyfriend, so for the monsterfuckers in the audience.... nice.

so what's the catch?

if you're looking for a fairly unambiguously "happy ending", and if you like the idea of your rook parenting for the foreseeable future, saving manfred is your easy option. on this path, rook and emmrich will have many good years together before he dies. there's absolutely still room for angst here because of emmrich's unresolved issues, but there's definitely a more... domestic, low-key quality to this path.

the lich romance has some pretty glaring obstacles, and that's probably a big part of why a lot of people doing the romance might not pick this. first of all, he wasn't joking, he's literally a skeleton. he can put on a glamour for polite company, but he is a skeleton. realistically, intimacy is going to be complicated by that. on top of that, as a lich for the mourn watch, he's going to have certain duties that he can't get away from. myrna herself asks if they're going to be seeing less of emmrich now that he's a lich, and his answer is basically not yet. at some point, some time in the future, he is going to have to go into the necropolis to begin his lich duties and he won't really be coming back out after. so in a very real way, there is an invisible timer on the relationship where it'll basically be dead in the water unless rook makes some serious lifestyle changes* to accommodate that (assuming they're allowed to). so there's some built in angst with the lich romance that may or may not be your preferred flavour, because his job might end their relationship long before rook's mortal lifespan even becomes a consideration.

*theoretically a mourn watcher rook is going to have an easier time with that particular adjustment, but i'm speaking from my perspective as a LoF rook

decisions, decisions

this is the part where i start talking about my rook, but do us both a favour and keep reading, because believe it or not there is still some emmrich analysis in this part, and it might inspire you to do your own dissection for your rook, too.

so my rook is corentin laidir, and from the moment emmrich said the word "lich" he's been quietly freaking out about it. largely because of the whole "you're going to leave me to be a lich in the necropolis" thing.

i had hoped that resolving emmrich's quest line would give me a very clean solution to the lich freak out issue, and it does! ....if i liked the ending where we save manfred. which i don't. controversial opinion, but i don't actually care about manfred enough for corentin to be his second dad, and from a roleplay perspective i don't think corentin would advocate for bringing manfred back.

but on the other hand, the lich!emmrich option is quite literally corentin's nightmare. what corentin wants, at his core, is for emmrich to accept both manfred's death and his own, whenever it may come. he wants emmrich to understand that running from his own fear of death like that is beneath him. is it honouring death to defy it like that, even (supposedly) in the name of service? corentin would argue no, if he could bring himself to argue with emmrich about anything.

selfishly, corentin is also afraid of what eternity means. sure, emmrich says now that he'll always remember corentin and what they have, but what about a thousand years from now? he's afraid of being replaced, and of becoming insignificant to someone who is so, so important to him right now. in this life.

so the question becomes: do i choose an imperfect, happier ending that maintains emmrich's mortality, or do i throw corentin into an emotional blender?

why i'm putting corentin in the torment nexus

one of the problems of being a creatively-minded person while playing decision-based games is that there comes a time when you have to make a choice:

do i work with the options available to me, or do i pull out my scalpel and gut this thing?

and in moments like this, where neither option is quite right, i have no choice but to get surgical. pick what's interesting, and frankenstein that thing into something that works well enough to carry me to the end.

and the fact of the matter is, the lich path is just more interesting to me in this case because it's an angst machine, and because it makes sense for him to get stuck in it. if i dig into corentin's character, in that exact moment when a decision is made, there's no world where he's going to tell emmrich to give up on his life's work just to bring manfred back and stay mortal. but there is a world where he'd recognize that telling emmrich to give up on his life's work for a guy who loves him who he met five minutes ago is a dick move, and then he'd get completely caught off guard when emmrich says he's going to start preparing for his rites now.

so where does this leave corentin?

here's how i'm handling the situation for the time being, unless something comes along that completely revolutionizes how i feel about all this.

every time emmrich has talked about becoming a lich, it's always been a vague future thing with no real timeline attached. in hindsight, it's pretty clear that the only thing delaying the process was himself—emmrich was uncertain if he was willing to risk the danger of the rites. this uncertainty, however, has left corentin with the impression that even if he was 100% sure and raring to go forward, there would be tests and preparation that needed to happen first, and there would be time before the rites could happen.

so when the question of whether or not to save manfred comes up, corentin does what any good boyfriend would and he tells emmrich that he's dedicated his life to potentially becoming a lich, and he needs to be really certain before throwing that away.

corentin is allergic to being a bummer; even when he's really struggling with something, he feels like he can't talk about it if it'll upset someone else. emmrich is desperately afraid of death, and corentin is desperately afraid of being alone, so he's gotten very good at keeping himself... palatable. so when emmrich responds to his encouragement by saying that he'll start preparing for the rites immediately? well, corentin feels locked into the supportive boyfriend schtick. he feels like he has to be unerringly supportive and not question emmrich's decision, even though it is definitely something that effects him, too.

the whole time emmrich's preparing to become a lich, corentin is thumbs up "you got this babe!"-ing his way through it, all while frantically trying to squash down the feeling of impending doom. because he is 100% completely convinced the other shoe is going to drop at any moment and emmrich is going to go to the Lich Corner Store for cigarettes and never come home.

though it should be noted, the skeleton part of "skeleton boyfriend" is really the least of his concerns. it's just everything around that.

and where does this leave emmrich?

he doesn't know it, but it leaves him with a pretty miserable boyfriend. they're going to have to reckon with corentin's issues at some point.

just like they're going to have to deal with emmrich's. becoming a lich is maybe not 100% a good thing, at least not right this second. he says that he "thought he knew its price," and in keeping with that banter i linked in the first part, he seems unprepared for the reality of losing people. it feels a little like he's rushing into it headfirst before the grief can hit him full force and he can get cold feet.

i'm really curious how he's going to feel if something happens to corentin (or almost happens), and it gives him a reality check on his boyfriend's mortality. losing manfred is already unimaginably hard... is he prepared for what it's going to be like when he loses corentin?

because i don't think he's realized that he isn't, yet.

[georgegraphys]

Warning : emotionally biased personal rant

IDK if it's just me but the talks about "omg i'm scared of George if X/Y jumps to Mercedes. he might be fucked" irks me a lot.

A lot of people have anxieties over this and I get it. I fucking get it. Competitive sports is a very harsh world and EVERYONE is replaceable, I fucking get that, but not like every instances of X/Y achieving something good then suddenly you bring up the talks of "ohh George is going to be replaced in 2026/2100. There is no way-" "I think he will not be renewed". Just when George just achieved something good these past few races.

Why can't we just support George without constantly doubting him, his future, and his choices? "He might choose Audi and go down the same path Z" Are you Jesus now? You have the ability to foresee the future now? I get it that sometimes you're being anxious, you're being "realistic" but have you ever tried to just enjoy things currently and be supportive? Like get those negative thoughts out. It's making it seem like some people are actively waiting for George to slip off and get fucked just to get their "see? I'm right" moment.

It honestly pisses me off how these talks and negativity resurface every time certain drivers achieve something or perform in a way George doesn't. This is a competitive sport, we are not producing a consistent RB19 every race winning car. Performances have their ups and downs. But do we need to COMPARE what George does to what certain drivers achieve EVERY FUCKING TIME? Can't we just celebrate George's things for what he achieved, stop comparing it to others, and stop having these anxious/negative/self deprecating thoughts every time certain drivers achieved something? I get that George ain't Schumacher or Senna or Lauda and I don't want him to be the 2.0s of someone either. George Russell is George Russell. If you want to support him, then support what he is doing right now. We don't need to prop him like he's Schumacher but just support him for what he's doing! He's doing a good job right now. Stop comparing. Stop projecting his career timeline to other drivers' timeline, they all have different ways to success. Stop backseating and speaking things about his career in the future. Stop speaking negative things to air every time certain drivers do good.

I understand if people have doubts on their faves but that doesn't mean you really need to put it up to words and indirectly tears him down under the facade of "oh i'm being realistic here-". It's not "realistic" anymore, It's doubting and undermining George if you continuously keep up on this mindset.

Whatever team George ended up later on in 2025, 2026, 2030, 2100, let's support him and focus on his current form. Why do fans always feel the need to backseat their faves' careers? They know what they're doing. Just because some drivers made a mistake that cost them their career, doesn't mean everyone and their dogs got to be a 2.0 version of that. George Russell is George Russell. Stop acting like he's going to fail and make wrong choices, be A or B or C. Trust him or go home.

[zhongrin]

Heyo, anon that found the little Jeht tidbit here.

I've been doing further testing, and even if you leave the area and come back, Jeht will continue walking around the same area. (Legit, I walked around Fontaine for a while and went back to the area, and even logged out and back in, and I can see her still walking around where I left her by the tents.)

So maybe it's less that she's tied to you and more like the location of enemy "mob" spawns, perhaps? I find it really odd that for such a straight forward sequence, they rely on the player to trigger it. Usually I'll see the NPC's just rush to the next area, I found this an interesting way to code Jeht in this portion of the game.

Jeht and even Jebrael's mechanics of applying elements to enemies as we're fighting was pretty cool! I liked that I got to do co-op without needing to do co-op, especially as sometimes I just wanted to hear them talk with the enemy, and I just wanted to slowly wear the enemy down, while allowing them to deal damage and the final blow.

I like your ideas. I'd be down for a companion or tool to apply more elements to enemies. I think that'd be cool as an exploration tool.

it could be both too i guess. like it could be a checkpoint based system, but she'll follow you as soon as you move within a certain range of hers? cause i've observed with seelies and sometimes on other quests when you have to 'walk' with characters, they might stop walking when you get too far from them... 🤔

hmhm... good choice on hoyo though. i think it's a good mechanic to have cause it gives us freedom on when to trigger the next sequence. just in case we wanna explore around first! they have been doing the whole 'subtly guiding' players to explore areas and make 100% exploration easier since sumeru and i love to see it!!

right!!! sometimes it's just fun to observe... ough now i kinda miss them. one of the best father-daughter combo. finally a kinda decent biological dad in genshin /j /smacked

hehe yay! though i don't really foresee it being added, it's fun to imagine what kind of gadgets we could have had sometimes... i wish they'd give us a seelie / timed trials detector. i don't think i have issues in the later areas of the game but i did some exploring yesterday and i found a seelie i completely missed in liyue ☠️

[springsaladgaming]

Progress Update 2/1/23

I said I'd have a more comprehensive progress update before the month was out, but I'm a dirty liar! We get a February 1st update instead! In my defense, I get confused about whether my sister's birthday is on the 30th or the 31st sometimes, and that confusion made me confused about what day it actually was too.

So here's the more official first progress update of the year in which I'm going to talk about my current thoughts on Ninelives and what I will be working on for the foreseeable future.

It will be a year in March since the last official update to Ninelives, and for that I'm so sorry! Last year was a struggle in multiple ways. After such a long stint of lockdowns, quarantines, and travel restrictions (self-imposed or otherwise), people began going on vacation like crazy last year, and I was very busy with work. The work itself is not super time consuming, but the instability of it (I'm constantly driving around and sleeping in different places) certainly didn't help my focus. And then the depression hit me pretty hard the last few months of the year. It was all I could do to finish the first chapter of my other project and didn't leave me with much energy to think about Ninelives.

All that aside, I have a pretty serious helping of time blindness to go with my ADHD. Sometimes I will think it's only been a few days or weeks since I last worked on my writing, and then I turn around and realize months have passed. It's something I'm trying to be better about, but sometimes I just have to accept that I'm gonna slip up a lot.

I could sit here and make excuses and apologies all day, but I'm not going to! 🙆🏾‍♀️ I'll just finish this segment with a big ol' thank you for being patient with me! So let's continue on!

Regarding Ninelives as it currently stands, there are some things about the layout and UI that I'm not entirely happy with. There's a strong chance in the future that I will transfer all the work to a completely different template. I also think I've learned a lot more from working on my other project, so there might be general improvements to the way I've coded some things in the background. These aren't necessarily things that will be super noticeable from an outside perspective but will improve the efficiency of the choices and passages.

However, I've also been getting better about working on the drafting and coding separately. The last time I worked on Ninelives in earnest, I was performing both tasks simultaneously, and this was causing me to hit a lot of unnecessary speed bumps along the way. As such, I've been focusing on the two more separately with my other project, and I know now that's what I need to be doing for Ninelives too.

So any improvements and changes to the layout, UI, and anything coded up to this point isn't something I plan to worry about right now. The immediate priority is Chapter 3, and I want to talk a little bit about why Chapter 3 was always going to be such a big hurdle.

I've mentioned before that certain parts of Ninelives are getting rewrites from the original ChoiceScript version that I started with. Chapter 3 is going to have the most significant changes, going so far as to be a large chunk of completely new content. Some parts of the original Chapter 3 are getting carried over, but a lot of it is getting cut to make way for some events that I think will better lay out the greater plot.

To go into detail, while still keeping things mostly spoiler-free: The new Chapter 3 involves a party. This party will be an opportunity to gain more insight into what's going on with Sungjae, meet the ??? RO that I've been talking about all this time, and establish some more of the character skills a little bit earlier in the story. Oh yeah, it's also a party the MC is most definitely not supposed to be at. (How good is your MC at talking their way into a formal event?)

It's also a much-needed revamp of the inciting incident, because, let's be honest, the original inciting incident was way too random. (That's what plotting by the seat of your pants gets you.)

I think the revamped Chapter 3 is going to do a lot for the story that the original Chapter 3 simply did not do, so I'm excited to finally get it into a written draft.

So the first order of business is writing Chapter 3, no coding included. Once it's written, the process of coding it is a lot shorter. I don't have an ETA, but Ninelives is my full focus right now. I'll keep y'all posted with progress updates!

Thanks for sticking with me!

[queenharumiura]

‘ comforting ‘    for my muse’s reaction to yours gently wiping their tears away after they’ve been caught crying (From Gokudera as for which verse of ours, you pick)

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting|| @whiskeysmulti Note: I chose to go for something with the verse with @signorinavongola's version of them because-- yes. Heh Gotta give that verse some attention to. =w=

-

Haru was crying alone in a room, her attention focused on the item in her hands. A lot of her life had changed when she made the choice to affiliate with the Vongola and leave the life of a regular civilian behind her. Well, it wasn’t like she’d fully committed to it outwardly, considering she’d remained in Japan.

It would’ve been met with a lot of opposition if she tried to become too intimately involved with the Mafia’s activities. If she got too involved, then what was stopping Kyoko from doing the same? Haru remembers mentally rolling her eyes every time that was brought up by a certain older brother Guardian. Well, it’s not like she didn’t understand. Haru could resolve most of their reservations by stating that she could at least act like a civilian outwardly and be something like a liaison based in Japan. Nothing too ‘dangerous’.

Well, that is until they started cleaning some dirty parts of the underground world and found some children in need of a safe place, and that’s when Haru realized this was her calling. She took the children under the wing. Sure, she understood that it could be dangerous, and it would be a lot of work, but she was okay with that.

What was harder for her to get used to was the fact that she had to withdraw away from some others like her friends and family in order to keep them safe from the eyes of anyone with bad intentions towards the survivors of the mafia’s atrocities.

Every couple of months, she’d get delivered a couple handfuls of letters that her parents wrote for her, and she’d always go into a room by herself to read them over and cry. She missed seeing her parents, but she didn’t want any harm to come to them. It was hard, and it was a sacrifice she didn’t foresee having to make, but, she had to make peace with it.

She had resolved to not cut her ties with her childhood best friend, and she wanted to be a source of support for her. Her courageous friends who were trying to do something big and important in the mafia world. She was doing her part with helping the displaced children heal their hearts and find their place in the world that was cruel to them from such a young age. She wanted to allow them to explore their options and find a way to do something good with their lives, to realize there was a lot they could aspire to be… not simply continue the cycle of pain and hatred by getting revenge.

Gently tracing her fingers over the familiar handwriting of her mother’s, she let silent tears fall from her cheeks.

She hadn’t noticed that someone had entered the room after having knocked a few times. She was too focused on the letters to notice she had company until she felt someone’s hand wiping her tears. “!!”

Flinching backwards, she almost swings at the perpetrator until she recognizes the familiar silver hair. Once she does, she closes the letter in her hands. The letters her parents wrote were for her eyes only. “Oh-- Gokudera, when did you get here? Haru’s sorry, she must not have heard you come in.” She sets the letters aside to finish reading them later. She’s not going to address the fact she’d been caught crying.

Plastering her classic smile on her face, “Did you say hello to all the kids already? They love it when you visit, Uncle ‘Grumpy’ they call you in secret, sometimes.” She giggles. “How about you tell me how everyone’s been in Italy?”

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Adapting The Devil and Abrahamic Concepts

Note: This following post is not intended to dismantle or bash anyone's beliefs, all that is said is not intended to cause fear or anger in anyone who is of any of these faiths. What I say is not an indication of my alignment with any faith or ideology, this post is just a little, and slightly philosophical, ramble.

Oh, and as per usual, I am terrible with grammar and silly mistakes are bound to be in this so I'm sorry in advance!

Now that's out the way, on with the ramble!

So... whilst I'm following the Mandela Catalog closely with my eyeballs and also writing my own chaos (which I am currently in two minds about releasing tidbits of but that's a whole other kettle of fish), I realised something.

We need to explore Abrahamic concepts more often!

When you delve into the more esoteric and "deep" ideas within the various scriptures of the Abrahamic faiths, things get interesting and thought-provoking regarding humanity, incomprehension and purpose.

This is the part where I start talking about the Devil, because of course I gotta bring in the og Big Bad. I feel as though, this is gonna sound extremely bad pfft, he's severely underused in media. I say this because when you start getting into the research surrounding him, things start getting really, really bizarre.

First off, Satan is not a name, it is a title. Satan, or as I know him, Shaitan, is Hebrew in origin and means Adversary. It is a position, not inherently a name or identity, it's more like a part of an identity, like how a certain job can be a part of who you are but not necessarily all of you as a person. Satan is a position in this reality, not the name or identity of the entity who holds this title.

Now, why do I bring this up?

Well, some people have an issue with the existence of Satan and not just because he's evil, but because his existence doesn't make sense when you think of God. God is supposed to be all-powerful, all-knowing and all-good, but how can God be any of these things if Satan exists? God would have to not possess at least one of the aforementioned aspects; for example, if God let Satan happen because God did not foresee, then surely God is not all-knowing.

Which leads to the "theory" if you will, regarding the necessity of the Adversary. Without evil, there can be no good. So, the Adversary is needed, but is the Adversary aware of that?

If we go along the belief that Satan was an angel and the belief that angels have no freewill, which is more islamic but wahey guess I've outed my Muslim background, that means that Satan is essentially performing his function as he is not capable of choice.

However, time and time again, we have read that Satan is a rebel, which suggests that there was a choice that was made. So, I propose this, what if he has the illusion of choice?

Satan is in torment, yes, but it is not because of the horrors of Hell, but rather, the torment of trying to fight a battle you could never win. What if, like the cycle of Samsara, Satan is fighting to break free from his chains in angelhood and be free, hence either making himself human or a new god.

Imagine if the Devil is just a complex primordial force trying to be something simpler? Imagine the thing you feared the most, was just as scared himself?

Satan remains terrible, but he makes me think. He's this scary, primal force of nature that is somewhat human, or at least trying to be human, trying to be something he's not.

It reminds me of this quote Sotha Sil once said about Vivec from TES Online; "He wishes to be all things at all times. Every race, every gender, every hero. Both divine and finite... but in the end, he can only be Vivec."

Same goes here, perhaps Satan wants to be everything, angel, god, human, good, but he can only be the Adversary.

Abrahamic philosophy, from my understanding, is about acceptance and submission to reality, whether it be through one's worship or through acknowledgement of this alone. Submission isn't just about bending the knee, it's about submitting to yourself, your identity, to the deity who created reality and to the nature of that reality. It pretty much is the understanding of the fact you exist and you exist in this particular, human way. Again, this is my understanding and opinion and people will have their own ideas, so please note I don't represent anyone when I say this 😅 .

Satan cannot submit because he does not accept his identity. He goes against that very philosophy and we need that. Without that example of necessary rebellion, we would not be able to understand our own inner conflicts. For he represents conflict on the personal and cosmic scale.

And that conflict, the complexities of Abrahamic faith, predestiny, freewill, that really frightening fear Abrahamic faiths present when it comes to angels, Satan and God, are not explored enough.

Frankly, I think the show Lucifer really missed the opportunity to get weird and wonderful. They touched upon Satan and his relationship with God and the nature of his freewill or potentially lack thereof. However, they never really delved into it and I'm so sad about that, especially with the acting talent of Tom Ellis- we could have got some spicy stuff.

But that's also why I adore the Mandela Catalog. That godly horror of this cosmic creation crashing down on us like a ton of bricks with all its anger and fear is exactly what I have been yearning for in an abrahamic adaption. The world around us in the Mandela Catalog is falling apart because something which isn't God is trying to be, the Adversary is trying to be his own opposition and that dismantles his very sense of self.

And that is also what I want to do in my own writing, explore this creature of despair and horror and peel back the layers to see what lies under the title of Adversary. I want to know and explore what this entity is, what he is to himself and what he is to humanity, to those who are subject to his madness.

Satan is bad, but what is it to be the opposing darkness, when you can't be anything else?

This is just my hot take lol. But it's a hot take I've been mulling over for a while and I just needed to get out there :).

Thanks for reading my little diatribe!

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[hb-writes]

The Small Acts

1924

Clara rested her chin on her knees, arms wrapped tight around her legs as Polly finished weaving her damp hair into a braid. She had been tender with the brushing and the plaiting, something the woman often wasn't when dealing with Clara’s long tresses, but Polly knew it wasn't time for tough love or rough handling. Her niece needed to be coddled a bit. She needed to be a girl and not the nearly grown woman she imagined herself to be.

A few moments after she finished, Polly tapped a foot into Clara's side, prompting the girl up from the carpet when she seemed not to notice the ritual was through, her gaze lost in the fireplace while her mind, Polly assumed, was still a bit trapped in Warwickshire.

Clara reluctantly climbed onto the cushion beside her aunt, wrapping herself tightly in her borrowed robe as she drew her legs to her chest. Clara's stomach had been unsettled since she arrived, before that even, her nerves frayed by the time she arrived at the halfway point between Warwickshire and Sutton Coldfield, once the adrenaline borne of her row with Tommy finally subsided. It had all happened right around the same time that the rain started to come.

"He's gonna murder me," Clara said, the first decent string of words she had put together since coming out of the bath.

The bath had been at Polly's insistence, because Clara had been chilled to the bone when she showed up on Polly's doorstep in the middle of the night and because Polly needed a moment without Clara's presence to have a frank phone call with Tommy. And most of all, Polly hoped the bath would calm Clara's sputtering tears, same as it often had when she was a small child.

Polly could see now that the bath had helped Clara in a way, had at least dealt a bit with the cold bones. But while she was calmer, and very much quiet, Polly thought Clara seemed less soothed and more numb than anything else so Polly decided it would be time, then, that would ultimately make it better. She had been suspecting it for weeks, that her niece and nephew both needed a bit of time apart.

Tommy hadn't seemed particularly soothed by the call informing him his sister was safe at Polly's, his voice clipped and methodical as they sorted through the particulars. Sure, Polly had noted a certain measure of relief in her nephew at hearing she was present and accounted for, but the relief was quickly cast aside, and a certain gruffness returned to his tone. Polly couldn't help but think his tone wasn't just from the itch to shout at the girl for making the three-hour hike out to Polly's on her own in the middle of the night, though that certainly would have been enough to warrant it.

"Is he on his way?" Clara finally pulled her eyes from the fire and looked to her aunt.

"No." Polly moved the brush from the couch beside her to the end table, noticing the way Clara's shoulders had slumped a bit. "I told him to leave it for the night. It's already late. And an evening apart will do you some good."

Tommy would have been out to collect her directly after the phone call if Polly had allowed it. He intended for his sister to finish out the evening under his roof, in her own bed. He intended on seeing to it that his sister spent her evenings there for the foreseeable future, actually, but Polly put him off, delaying his collection until the following morning. She said it was on account of the storm and the hour, but it was also on account of the fact that Polly Gray didn't want to release her niece to her brother's care quite so soon, not with Clara in her current state and Tommy being as he was.

"But—"

"They'll be fine. Your brother is a grown man and Charles has his father and a whole staff to look after him."

An argument was already well-formed in Clara's head, even before Polly's interruption, because Clara and Tommy spent plenty of time apart these days, largely at her brother's behest. And after Polly's words, Clara couldn't quite dispel the swell of anxiety at the idea of her nephew being looked after by someone other than her. She knew on some level that Mary was entirely capable of caring for the boy, and under normal circumstances, her brother was quite capable too, but it had been Clara reading him bedtime stories and tucking him in every night since Grace's death, answering his late-night calls and soothing the bad dreams with her off-tune humming before the staff woke. And Clara hated herself a bit for not being there now.

"I know you worry after him, but it's not your job to mother."

Clara was sixteen, but Polly still saw a child when she looked at her. She saw one of the two babies she’d raised almost from birth, having done more nurturing of Clara and Finn than she’d done of her other niece and nephews, more rearing of the twins than she’d done even of her own two children. And though Clara and Polly rarely fought on subjects relating to the girl growing older as Clara and Tommy did, there were moments when it did make Polly a bit sentimental.

“And that can go for either one of them,” Polly added. “You’re a sister and an aunt, and there’s no expectation for you to be more than that.”

When Polly was sixteen, before that even, she had been helping her older brother’s wife to mother her niece and nephews, cleaning up after Arthur Sr.’s messes. By twenty-five, when her sister-in-law passed, Polly was tending to the responsibilities he left behind on Watery Lane, the business and the brood he had never helped with, the family he never deserved.

The relationship between Polly and her brother had been dissimilar in every way from that between Clara and Tommy, but Polly knew intimately the nature of the girl’s pain. She understood what tugged at Clara’s heart when she heard her brother wasn’t coming to bring her home. She knew how a bit of innocent worry could nag even when one’s heart was filled with rage or in Polly’s case, hate. Polly knew what it was feeling compelled to fill a void for motherless children and for a moment, the circular nature of life struck her. 

“Same as you, then?” Clara said, the notion striking her at the same moment. “A sister and aunt, mothering when it’s not her job.” 

Polly sighed. “That was different, love.”

Clara knew her aunt was at least partly right. It was different. Charles had a father and Tommy had resources. She could meet nothing more than the minimum requirements of sister and aunt and Tommy and Charles would certainly be fine. Clara wasn't sure the same could be said if Polly hadn't stepped in to raise them, especially during the war.

"I shouldn't have run."

"Probably not," Polly said. It had been a hot-headed response, not one of the well-thought-out reactions Polly was used to seeing from the girl, but she was grieving and rowing with her brother, and a bit of impulsivity could be expected under such circumstances. "But there's no use in troubling over that now."

Polly figured Tommy would give her plenty of time to trouble over the insensibility of her choices later. There was no need to discuss them with her now.

"I shouldn't have bothered you so late."

Polly waved her off. "It's okay, love. I couldn't sleep anyway." She pulled Clara closer. "Now, come here." Polly maneuvered the girl so Clara's head rested in her aunt's lap and settled a blanket over her. "You know it's never too late to bother your Aunt Polly." She cleared her throat, her tone a bit sharper. "Unless you're bringing me nonsense, in which case, you can take that right to one of your brothers or your sister and leave me out of it."

Clara nearly smiled, the both of them looking at the flames of the fireplace while Polly rubbed her hand up and down the girl's arm. Despite her aunt's pointed tone, Clara knew Polly would never turn her away. Not if it was midnight or if she brought the woman nothing but nonsense or got herself into some sort of real trouble or ran out on her brother in the middle of the night. In sixteen years of late-night intrusions, grand tantrums, difficult questions, and bits of heartbreaking melancholy, Polly had never turned Clara away without providing something, whether it be a bit of love or wisdom or strength.

They were the small acts of Polly's self-conscripted mothering that Clara had always taken for granted, but she recognized them for what they were now.

"You're a good mother."

It was the type of comment Polly would usually shrug off, announcing that she wasn't the kids' mother, claiming she was just an aunt doing her duty, stepping in when the kids had no one else, but she didn't fight Clara's mumbled declaration now. 

The comment actually left Polly unable to speak for a moment, so she squeezed her niece's arm instead, blinking away the wetness in her eyes, grateful Clara's head was still in her lap, her face turned to the fire while Polly regained her composure.

"Alright, love,” Polly said. “It's late. You get some rest now."

-----

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

[driftward]

This one’s for my friends, and my Free Company. It’s... very silly. But it’s about an issue that touches each and every one of our hearts, or at least our Ao3 search results, sometimes.

Ah! Why, hello there. I am the eponymous Drifter. You’ll know me as Biot08 from my main blog. My appearance changes depending on where I’m at, maybe just don’t think about that too much. You know? Anyway, yes, I’m the person who posts to this very blog. I apologize for the mess you can see in the background, I’ve been extremely busy ignoring my responsibilities and not getting the Fending boots from Aglaia. And currently re-reading the Murderbot Diaries. Highly recommend. ANYWAY

It has come to my attention that CERTAIN PEOPLE who are my VERY DEAR FRIENDS who I LOVE AND CHERISH do not believe me when I say I do not ship my Warrior of Light. Now, let me be very clear about my stance here. I love everyone’s ships. I love them to pieces. I love reading about them, I love seeing art about them, I adore learning not only about everyone’s original characters, but also learning more about even the canon characters, as seen through the eyes of everyone who writes about them, draws about them, makes wonderful spectacular art about them! It’s beautiful. It brings a tear to my eye. Also it gives me something to read and look at while avoiding my responsibilities, like not making my Free Company’s Eureka event. And I know I’ve posted about this once already! An epic tale of woe and tragedy, but apparently that just -did not stick-, so here I am again. I want to let you in on a little secret. C’mon. Get closer. I’m going to tell you something. My Warrior of Light, Zoissette Vauban? She’s simply unshippable. I am not kidding. Look, I love her the way only a parent could distantly love their child that they put through dungeons until the last piece of the Vigil set I needed to complete her glamour dropped, but I mean... Look. Maybe a demonstration is in order.

Just... just look at her.

Look at that big, dumb face.

JUST LOOK AT HER. That’s some kind of awkward. Even I’m not that awkward and I’m the one who spent an hour making these screenshots for this post. Who is supposed to be shipped with that, Curious Gorge?

...why did I type that, I’m regretting my life choices now. ANYROAD. I know this won’t be enough. I just know it. So I’m going to do the grown up thing here, probably, eventually, as a last resort, if I -have- to. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, I shall prove how unshippable she is, the only way I know how. That’s right.

That is to say, that’s write.

I’m... I’m going to write. I’m going to write her canon. That’s what I’m trying to say here. Dammit, that wordplay worked better in my head. HOWEVER. I will be writing out her story for the foreseeable future, and by the end, I am certain you will all finally understand and agree. This Warrior of Light? Completely unable to be shipped. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am avoiding the self-care responsibility of going to bed at a reasonable hour. K BYE

goodness, these robes do not -breathe-, it’s hot and sweaty in here.

[imagine-this-fandom]

The Rescue: BNHA x Fem! Reader- Newfoundland Dog

She gently placed Izuku into a glass cage before pulling you to a back door labeled "Dogs," the Golden retriever slipping in behind you before you closed the door.

Upon entering, you were greeted by lots of barking, the dogs obviously not using their indoor voices. The wall of sound left you a bit dazed as you took in the activity in front of you.  You were actually surprised by the variety back here. There was a husky, Pitbull, and even a German Shepard. The room was rather large and open for them to interact with potential owners, various dog toys strewn across the floor with the dog kennels to the back.

The animals seemed to have an unspoken respect for Inko. They made sure to get out of the way as she walked or stop playing long enough for her to pass by before continuing their fun. It was amusing to watch. You followed her path with your eyes before she came to a stop next to two big dogs. You paled as she led the bigger animal over to you.

"Here he is, (y/n)! This is Taishiro!"

Inko looked absolutely tiny compared to the behemoth of a dog beside her.

"Are you sure that's a dog? I'm fairly certain that is, in fact, a bear."

You eyed the golden-brown dog cautiously a bit intimidated by his size and the fact that if he so chose, any walk would become a drag with no contest on who was stronger.

Inko laughed and ruffled the fur on his head.

"He's a dog, just a big one. This big boy is a Newfoundland. Sure he can have a bite if he's in danger, but he's really just a big teddy bear. He's a sweetheart."

Tai cocked his head to the side and looked you over as Inko continued to reassure you.  He was skeptical about this whole being adopted out thing but with no foreseeable human future for him, he would have to put his trust in Inko and Nezu. You were obviously a bit intimidated by him, but he hoped he could prove to you that you had nothing to worry about.

You offered him a shy smile that quickly grew as he wagged his tail.

"see! He likes you! I'll go get some gear for you and you can get to know him a bit." Inko patted you on the shoulder before leaving to get supplies from the main half of the store, not noticing or electing to ignore your panicked look.  

You swallowed nervously before looking back at Tai. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move, not wanting to scare you off. You gave a nervous wave.

"Hey, Taishiro... I'm (y/n)."

He stepped forward and pushed his head into your offered hand, causing you to give a shaky laugh.

"Inko was right, you're not scary... sorry for misjudging you."

You began to pet him and were pleased when he stepped closer so you had easier access. He was so fluffy! He was a brown dog with golden tones in his fur and intense golden eyes. He was quite a big dog, big enough to bowl you over without much effort, but he was gentle with you.

Inko came back to find you sitting on the floor next to Tai, petting his stomach as he laid on his back for you. Your face was scrunched up in happiness as you talked to him, complimenting his behavior and telling him he was a good boy.  All too soon though, it was time to go. She made you promise to give updates over the phone before sending you on your way with the big dog.

~~~~~~~~

Taishiro was very confused when he woke up the next morning. After the accident that transformed him into a dog, he was used to the hustle and bustle of a crowded dog kennel. He was not used to the peace and quiet of your apartment. Usually, he would have been woken up early by Kirishima to spar, or as close as they could come to sparring in these forms. Still, he much preferred your couch to the kennels that were in the pet store.

"Morning sleepy head"

He looked up as you walked into the room, your uniform from yesterday traded for black shorts, a tank top, and a suspiciously familiar-looking yellow hoodie.

You sat down on the couch next to him and ruffled the fur on the top of his head.

"good morning Taishiro! Thanks for being a good boy and letting me sleep in."

He watched you intently, trying to place what about your outfit stuck out to him. He almost fell off the couch when he realized. You were wearing his merch. His pro hero merch. You had a Fatgum hoodie.

"what's up, do I have something on my jacket? "

You quickly searched the yellow material, a concerned crease between your eyes.

"I better not, this is my favorite hoodie..." You sighed with relief upon finding nothing and smiled back at Tai.

"Good news bub, all is good and my hoodie is safe. "

Had he been human, Tai would have been smirking. You had absolutely no idea who you were talking to and he found that hilarious. He was quite flattered that of all heroes, you had chosen him as your favorite.

You turned on the tv and settled onto the couch, pulling the hoodie close, your hands vanishing in the oversized sleeves. It was a good replica, he had to admit, but his real costume was a lot bigger. He took a moment and imagined what you would look like in it. He snorted lightly in amusement. You would be swimming in it. It would be really cute, but it was just a passing thought, seeing as he was a dog now and couldn't give you that opportunity. The cheerful mood he was in before slipped from him as the thoughts of his new life set in. He sunk onto the couch next to you.

You weren't sure what had changed, but you noticed that he seemed sadder somehow. Now that just wouldn't do. You carefully pulled his head into your lap and focused on petting him while some baking competition played on tv. The day passed in much the same way. You watched tv and made a commentary for him, occasionally looking down at him with a tut and an explanation of how the contestant went wrong.  It was early evening when you decided it was time for your relaxation to come to an end.

Tai was content and on the verge of sleep before you moved to get up. He wasn't having it and moved so more of him was in your lap, effectively trapping you on the couch. He was comfy gosh darn it.

You laughed and started to playfully shove at the mass of fur on your lap.

"Tai, get off me, you big galoot! I wanted to take you on a walk before sunset."

He begrudgingly removed himself from your lap and you skipped to your bedroom to change. As comfy as the hoodie and shorts combo was, it was still snowy from the night before. Tai was surprised with how quickly you had warmed up to him. As anxious as you were yesterday, any doubts about keeping him seemed totally gone. He hopped off the couch and settled by the door to wait for you. You were sweet, and he could see himself enjoying his time with you. Not to mention you obviously had good taste based on your choice of hero.

You emerged wearing Red riot leggings and a Suneater beanie. Tai was in awe of you. Not only were you his fan, but you also supported his protegees. The more he got to know you, the more he liked what he was seeing.

You grinned as you noticed his tail going a mile a minute.

"Ready to go, big fella?"

You clipped the leash onto his collar and took him outside.

~~~~~~ Tai quickly fell into a routine with you. You took him on a walk in the morning before work, Next, you had breakfast and then got ready for work. Tai was quickly learning to hate the time left alone. Back at the store, he was able to talk to the others, especially because he was able to talk to everyone hit by the quirk regardless of species. Now that he was left to his own devices, he didn't have that much to do.

One day while you were gone, he decided to properly explore the apartment. The living room was where he was most familiar, seeing as that's where you had him sleep. He hadn't gone into your room yet because he wanted to give you privacy, but... He was curious. He decided he might as well check it out. He pushed the door open with his nose and looked around with interest. His heart warmed at your choice of decor. You had several Fat Gum posters hanging on your walls as well as a few of Suneater and Red Riot as well. There was a singular All Might poster as well. It was a small room, seeing as you couldn't afford a large apartment. It was cozy though. Your bed was pushed into the far corner away from the door. It had many pillows, some stuffed animals, and what seemed to be a weighted blanket. He hopped onto the bed to get a better view. Your room smelled strongly of your favorite perfume and had a very cozy feeling. He had come to associate the smell of you with relaxation and safety, so it wasn't long before his eyes drifted closed.

When you came home two hours later, you weren't expecting the empty living room. Your first instinct was to panic and you started a frantic search. You scolded yourself internally, walking through your day to make absolutely sure he didn't have a chance to run away. You quickly ran to your room to grab a better jacket to go look for him. As soon as you burst through the door, you froze. He was sleeping, in your room. You gave a tired sigh and smacked your head against the door frame lightly for jumping to conclusions.

"You are so lucky you're cute because you just gave me a heart attack." You muttered to yourself, adrenaline fading. Stepping further into the room you threw your jacket over your desk chair and slipped off your shoes. You faceplanted onto the bed beside your bed, tired from the scare on top of the shift you just worked. What you didn't expect was Tai to feel the shift on the bed and subsequently roll over to cuddle with you. You suddenly had a face full of fur and a near 200-pound dog smothering you. You laughed painfully and shoved him off you, waking him in the process.

"Hey silly, try not to squish me, I still have to get you dinner, you still need me. You can make me into a  pancake later."

He stared at you in sleepy surprise as he slowly woke up. His first coherent thought was that he liked waking up to such a pretty smiling face. And you were offering to feed him? Bonus. Dog food was not appetizing as he still regained his taste from being a human. Still, there wasn't much he could do about it besides stealing human food from you when he had the chance. You would scold him, but he could tell you weren't really mad at him.

You scratched behind his ears and sat up, scooting up further on the bed so you could pet him more easily.

"You had me worried carebear. You usually greet me at the door. I was so scared you'd gone and run away."

You squished his face between your hands and kissed the top of his nose.

"I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you. You're really important to me, you know." You hugged his head to your chest and before peppering his ears and face with kisses.

Tai accepted the affection happily, but a part of him felt guilty for making you worry. Sure he was just your pet, but you really did love him at this point. He didn't like the spike of distress that coursed through him as you told him how upset you had been. He made a silent vow to himself not to make you worry again.

Little did he know that you would turn the tables on him later and he would be the worried one.

~~~~~

You had gotten sick. You weren't sure how, but you were fairly certain that a coworker had given you their cold. It wasn't that bad, but you were still fairly miserable. You woke up on your day off with a stuffy nose and throat feeling of sandpaper. It was far from pleasant.

You carefully slipped out of bed, careful to keep from waking Tai, who had taken to sleeping on your bed after you had invited him the first night when you thought he ran away.

While you would have liked nothing better than to lay in bed and wallow in how awful you felt, there were some errands that needed to be run. Sickness or not, you had to be up and moving today.

You got dressed in a simple Deku T-shirt and leggings before pulling on your fatgum hoodie, wanting to be comfy if you were going to face the masses. Pushing the sleeves up so they no longer covered your hands, you sat on your desk chair and mentally prepared yourself to leave the house. Just as you were putting on your shoes to leave, you heard Tai whine.

You gave him what you hoped was more smile than grimace and patted his head.

"Hey, bud. No walk until later. I don't feel too well. I'll make sure you get a short walk when I get back though. I have to go to the store first."

Tai was absolutely not having it. He could tell that you weren't feeling well by your miserable posture. Hunched in on yourself and wrapped in your comfort items with a red nose and bags under your eyes, you made for a pretty pitiful picture. He wasn't about to let you leave like that! You needed sleep. And soup. He wasn't sure how he would manage the second thing, but he was determined to make sure you took it easy today.

As soon as your hand reached the doorknob, you felt a warm body plant itself in front of you, effectively blocking the door.

"Carebear, I need to run errands. You've got to let me go out."

Tai made a disgruntled noise and stayed put, knowing that it would be a pain to move him and you currently did not have the strength.

You, of course, took his actions to mean something else.

"Are you sour because I said no walk till later? I promise as soon as I'm done with errands I'll be back and we can go for a short walk. If you're really upset about it we can go for a longer walk, but I still need to go run errands."

Tai just planted himself more firmly against the door and looked up at you with defiance shining in his eyes. He was not going to let you leave. Had he been human, he would have simply picked you up and brought you back to bed, but that wasn't an option. He would have to be creative.

Seeing as Tai didn't look like he was moving, you made a decision You stepped back and put your hands up in surrender. You turned around and started to make your way towards the couch.

"Fine, fine, I'll stay..."

Once you saw him trot back into the living room, you grabbed your stuff and booked it to the door, slamming it shut behind you before Tai could catch up. You grinned triumphantly at him through the living room window, cheeks glowing from exertion, but eyes bright with victory. Tai put his front paws against the window sill, staring at you with peeved disbelief. You had tricked him! He was just trying to look out for you. He gave you an unimpressed look before turning around and sitting with his back to the window, effectively giving you the cold shoulder.

You shook your head with a small smile before walking away, determined to go get your errands done quickly. You made a mental note to grab a treat for Tai to apologize for tricking him, he was still a good boy after all, albeit a salty one.

You returned that evening with several shopping bags, your energy all but spent. Slipping into the apartment, you had to take a moment to lean against the door for support. You frowned a little when Tai didn't greet you at the door but you didn't panic like last time. setting the groceries aside, you searched the apartment. Like last time, he was in your room. He wasn't asleep though. He sat in a corner of your room, lifting his head when you entered before standing and turning his back to you before sitting back down again.

"Awwww, still grumpy from this morning? I'm sorry carebear. I just had to get some things done I'm back now. I've got treats for you..."

You tried to coax him out of the corner, but he was resolute in his sulking. You pouted to yourself and headed back to the kitchen to work on dinner, deciding to give him his space.

As much as Tai wanted to be annoyed with you, he couldn't stay upset with you for long. Within ten minutes of your return, he was wandering out of the room to come see you. He told himself it was just to make sure you were alright, but really he admitted that he just missed you.

You hummed to yourself as best you could as you worked on dinner. It was supposed to be a really simple soup, but concentrating was becoming difficult with the headache that had made its presence know while you were out and about. That's why you weren't surprised when you cut yourself while chopping onions. You hissed in pain and instinctively shoved the offending digit into your mouth.

Tai was by your side in an instant, eyes wide with concern and body tensed.  You gave him a sympathetic look and removed the finger from your mouth to show him.

"It's okay boy, it wasn't a bad cut, it just startled me is all. I should have been paying more attention. I'll get it fixed up and finish dinner, then we can relax. Sound good?"

He relaxed a little bit, but you could tell he was still on edge. You quickly sanitized the cut and put a bandage on before finishing the soup and grabbing a bowl.

Once you sat down to eat, Tai was next to you, carefully examining your newly bandaged finger. Once he had deemed it worthy, he sat next to you, leaning against you.

After finishing your soup, you stretched and got up, sniffling pathetically as you started to get your jacket, preparing to take Tai on the walk you promised him.

He quickly hopped up and stopped you in your tracks, gaze fierce. You frowned in confusion and paused, not used to seeing him so intense.

" What's wrong buddy? I promised you a walk."

You were so oblivious sometimes and Tai was so done with being a dog. It was hard to properly convey his worry in this form. He decided since he couldn't outright tell you, he would have to show you. He stepped forward and snagged your sleeve cuff in his teeth before jerking it towards your room. You followed him with a puzzled expression, not quite sure what he was up to.

"Yes, this is my room. What did you want to show me? The bed? Why'd you bring me here?"

Tai released your sleeve and jumped onto the bed before grabbing the back of your shirt and tugging. You quickly lost your balance and toppled onto the plush surface with an undignified squeak of protest.

"Taishiro, what on Earth are you doing?"

He paid no mind to your question and instead grabbed your blanket. He dragged it over your protesting form before laying across your stomach so you couldn't get up. That ought to keep her, he grouched to himself.

You struggled for all of one minute before accepting your fate with a mumbled insult about him being a jerk.  It didn't take long for you to settle down though. Soon enough, you were petting Tai and drifting off. You leaned up and kissed his nose before giving him a mumbled goodnight followed by an "I love you"

Tai smiled tiredly and licked your hand in response before he too surrendered to sleep.

~~~~~

Taishiro was seriously starting to lose it. He had been your pet for five months now and it was starting to catch up to him. It was safe to say at this point that he adored you. He found himself looking forward to spending the day with you. He loved spending time with you, no matter what you were up to. He liked the way you talked to him like he was still human. You were so funny and kind and he was getting addicted to your laugh.

He wasn't foolish enough to mistake what he was feeling. He had fallen for you. Hard. This complicated things. He was a dog. He wasn't supposed to love you. Sure he had been human before and was still a human in his mind, but that didn't change the fact that the situation was messed up. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he knew things had to change.

He was startled out of his ramblings by you rattling his leash. You were wearing his favorite outfit on you since the weather had warmed up. You had on black shorts and a tank top accompanied by the too big fat gum hoodie.

"Hey carebear, up for a walk? The park is beautiful right now!"

He couldn't deny you anything if he tried. He bounded over to you, tail in overdrive. You snorted in amusement as he bumped his nose against your cheek when you clipped his leash on.

"Eager today?" You asked cheerfully, bumping his shoulder playfully with your hip.

The two of you were quickly out the door and on your way to the park. Once you reached it, you closed your eyes and tilted your face towards the sun as you enjoyed the fresh breeze that carried the scent of freshly mowed grass and the sound of happy chatter from the other park goers.

You beamed at Tai as you started along the trail. He was pleased you were so happy. Even though he loved how you looked, you were always a bit shy about how you looked when you went out to the park with him. You had confided in him that the joggers on the trail made you a bit self-conscious. He saw your outfit and attitude today as a step in the right direction. You were just enjoying the nice day and a nice walk, nothing else.

After about an hour of walking, you settled onto a shaded bench, hoodie now tied around your waist by the sleeves due to the heat. Fanning yourself lightly, You sighed in relief.

"We should head home soon buddy, you must be dying in this heat!"

Tai could only pant in agreement, the heat seeping through his fur. Apparently, this breed thrived in colder climates.  He perked up though when he saw an ice cream cart a few meters away. He grabbed the edge of your shirt and whined to get your attention.

You laughed and allowed him to lead you, confused but interested nonetheless. It quickly became apparent where he was taking you. You rolled your eyes and ruffled his fur on his head.

"You want a cold treat, huh bud? Fine. But only this once as a treat."

You smiled and walked over to the vendor and purchased a scoop of vanilla icecream for Tai and (Favorite flavor) for yourself. Content with your purchase, you hurried back to the bench. Tai was dancing from foot to foot, elated to be getting ice cream after such a long time without the frozen treat. It was just as heavenly as he remembered. Setting the paper bowl on the ground for him, you settled back on the bench and ate yours.

All was going fine until a jogger stopped in the shade nearby. You gave her a polite smile and she nodded in response. Her gaze was friendly enough until it drifted from your face to your frozen treat. She grimaced and looked you up and down before giving a disapproving tut and continuing on.

The sweet taste of the ice cream quickly began to become bitter in your mouth as her look of judgment flickered through your mind.  You bit your lip as tears began to sting the corners of your eyes. Setting the bowl aside, you unknotted the hoodie from your waist and zipped it up to your chin. Tai was surprised to see your transformation when he looked up from his clean bowl.

Giving a tight smile, you threw away both paper bowls.

"I think we should head home, carebear. It's been a long day."

Tai trailed after you with uncertainty, not liking this muted version of the (y/n) he loved. You were subdued, smile there, but clearly fake.  He quickly found the source of your discomfort when the original jogger passed with a friend, whispering about you and the ice cream. You wouldn't have been able to hear the cruel words, but being a dog did not afford Tai the same deafness. What he heard made him livid.

How dare they? How dare they talk about his gummy bear like that?! You were perfect to him and they were putting you down as if they had any right. He couldn't help the deep growl that left his throat as he bared his teeth at the two.

You whipped around at the sound, having never heard so much as a threatening whine from him before.

"Taishiro! What's gotten into you?" You worriedly tugged him away, hastily leading him back towards the apartment.

Once you reached home, you dropped to your knees in front of him, cupping his face with your hands as you looked him over.

"What happened there, bud? You doing okay?"

He was touched by your worry, but truly he was more worried about you. He knew you were never the most confident in yourself, so to see someone so cruelly tear that away from you made him angry. You deserved the world and he was not going to stand by while someone hurt you. He licked your cheek in an effort to calm you, reassuring you that he was alright now.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you happily buried your face in his shoulder, taking comfort in his soft warmth. After a few minutes of just snuggling against him, you stood and unclipped his leash.

"Go on bud, I'll be there in a sec."

You removed your shoes before heading to the kitchen. You fed Tai and hesitated in front of the fridge before going to your room. Tai was not going to let that slide. He quickly followed you and grabbed the edge of the hoodie to drag you back to the kitchen. Once you saw the destination, your face pinched in annoyance.

"it's okay Tai, I'm not hungry tonight. You eat up. I'm going to head for bed."

As you started to head for your room again, Tai once again snagged your jacket.

"Tai, I said drop it." Your tone was firm this time, not in the mood for his antics. He repeated it once more time, this time he growled to punctuate how serious he was taking this.

"Taishiro, let go. I am going to bed, and that's final."

When he held fast to the hoodie, you had had enough and unzipped the article of clothing. Letting it fall limp in his grip, you went to your room and closed the door, eliminating his chances of getting you out, what with the lack of thumbs.

Had you known how to speak dog, you would have heard some fairly colorful language on the other side of your door. You did your best to ignore it though and got ready for bed.

While Taishiro was impulsive and determined to solve problems, your stubbornness was easily a match for him. He paced anxiously in front of your door before he heard you rap your knuckles against your side. He waited for the telltale twist of the knob, but he was disappointed.

"Goodnight Carebear. I love you, be a good boy out there, alright?"

He was beyond frustrated now. You refused to listen to him and had isolated yourself with your thoughts and he couldn't get to you. He fumed silently, his heart breaking for you as he tried to come up with ways to encourage you to feel better about yourself. He eventually settled down with a discouraged huff and hoped he would have a clearer mind in the morning.

He did not end up sleeping until morning. In the late hours of the night, he woke to a strange feeling coursing through him. Tingles and warmth spread through his limbs like fire through his veins. He shut his eyes tightly as he weathered through the sensation. The last time he felt like this was when he was hit by that godforsaken animal quirk that got him into the whole mess.

Once it felt like it had reached its peak, it vanished altogether with a quiet pop. The relief was immediate. Tai carefully opened his eyes before pausing in confusion. The room looked completely different. He was seeing it from an all-new perspective. When he tried to move, he was stunned to discover the reason for his new line of sight. He was human again. He gasped and immediately pinched himself, pleased to find that this was not in fact a dream.

He was elated. However, something important had not come back with the transformation. His clothes were missing. He briefly considered waking you up to ask for help, but quickly vetoed that idea. That was a good way to traumatize you and get arrested. He decided his best choice was to call his agency. They had plenty of his spare costumes and clothes and were actually fairly close to your apartment.

He snagged your phone from where you had left it on the counter in your haste to escape to your room. He took a moment to marvel at the size difference between the two of you. Though he was in his skinny form, he had gotten to know you from the perspective of someone smaller than you so the shift in perspective was disconcerting.

The call to his agency took longer than he hoped it would. He had to give a short summary of what had happened before promising to give a full account the next day. It was tiring, but he was soon dressed and comfortable. He decided he would let you sleep and spring this whole thing on you at a much more decent hour.

~~~~~~~

Without any clue of the mess that was soon to be, you dragged yourself out of bed the next morning. You were decidedly crankier due to your favorite cuddle buddy being locked out of your room by yours truly. You were starting to regret your tantrum and resolved to yourself that you shouldn't have let the incident at the park get to you. Rubbing your eyes with a yawn, you stepped out into the living room only to freeze as a heavenly smell grabbed your senses. Picking up your hoodie from where Tai had left it by your door, you slipped it on and followed your nose to the kitchen.

You froze for the second time in the brief time you had been awake. There was a man in your kitchen. But not just any man, the man you had been crushing on since you had first seen him in action shortly after you had moved. Fat gum was in your kitchen, and... cooking breakfast?

You concluded that this was simply an elaborate dream and walked in to stand next to him.

"Whatever you're making smells amazing."

He turned around so quickly that you almost got whacked upside the head with a spatula.

"(y/n), gummy bear, you're awake!"

His smile was absolutely radiant and your cheeks quickly retaliated with a dusting of red.

"Y-yeah. Good morning. "

He pulled a chair out at the counter for you and you quickly complied, sitting and watching him with awe.

"I just made french toast. I hope you don't mind."

He placed a plate in front of you with the prettiest breakfast you had ever seen on it.

"Best dream ever," you mumbled to yourself before taking a bite, almost melting at the taste.

Tai grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It's, uh, not a dream sugar. I'm actually here. Have been for a while actually. It's pretty hard to explain."

You listened patiently before shaking your head and pointing your fork at him.

"Yeah, no. There's no way this isn't a dream. There isn't a single realistic thing in this whole sequence. The man of my dreams makes me breakfast? Yeah, a nice domestic fantasy, but just that. A fantasy."

You made a vague gesture with the fork between the two of you.

"Besides, you are so far out of my league."

He frowned and stepped forward, flicking your forehead lightly.

"Now you cut that out. I am perfectly in your league. Don't you dare badmouth yourself again, honey."

You pouted and clutched your forehead in pain before realization started to dawn, pout fading into a look of pure shock.

"You can't feel pain in dreams..." you murmured absently.

"And I told you, it's not a dream. Now eat your breakfast and I'll explain."

You nodded dumbly and shoveled another forkful of the french toast into your mouth as Tai looked on encouragingly. He leaned on the counter.

"So, I was hit by a quirk roughly six months ago. This quirk was suped up on an experimental quirk enhancement drug. "

he frowned as he remembered getting caught in the blast of gas that had formed after the criminal's quirk went haywire.

"This quirk turned me and several others into animals. The pros tried everything and weren't able to reverse it. Those of us struck by it had to resolved ourselves to spending the rest of our lives as animals."

You nodded along, thoroughly invested in the story

"Eventually, we were relocated to a pet store for care from a trusted parent of one of the heroes hit by the quirk. You may know her as Inko Midoriya."

At this revelation, you nearly choked on your food.

"WAIT! YOU MEAN, ALL THIS TIME... you...My dog Tai, That was you?" Your voice rose in both pitch and volume as both horror and embarrassment took over.

Tai simply laughed and took your hands, rubbing soothing circles on the back of them.

"It's alright gummy bear, it all worked out. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to have taken care of me in such a vulnerable state. Sorry if I scared you."

You looked from his hands holding yours to the yellow sleeves of your hoodie before you quickly snatched your hands back and buried your face into them.

Tai had the nerve to laugh.

"sorry to fluster you. But I'm glad I could finally tell you the truth."

He had to lean in close to hear your muffled response.

"My crush was my dog!" You wailed into your hands, face alight with a bright blush.

He carefully moved your hands away before tilting your chin up tenderly.

"We can talk about this later if you want, maybe over coffee?"

You looked at him in disbelief.

"Are, are you asking me on a date?"

He grinned and kissed your nose.

"I most certainly am. I'd be a fool to not after all the time I've spent falling in love with you."

Taglist:

@witch-o-memes

@nightlygiggless

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet ugly prompts, 02 indruck?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one and interpreted the prompt kind of broadly. It's set in the same world as this Sternclay prompt

Fun fact: there is a fire lookout in the Monogahela, but the structure I describe is based on more elaborate ones elsewhere

02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless

Only in Duck’s life would “dream job” and “months alone in the woods” be equivalent.

The Bickle Nob Fire Lookout is a coveted position, and Duck is pretty fucking flattered they chose him as the ranger for July and August. He took the high clearance off-roader to get here, he’s got his bags full of everything he needs not to die of boredom (or anything else) and his schedule of supply drops. He’s as ready as can be and so fucking excited when he opens the door of the wide-windowed cabin.

Then he jumps back, startled to find a skinny, silver-haired man asleep on the floor.

“Uh, sir? This site is off-limits to visitors.”

The man wakes up in a series of catastrophic movements; he bangs into the wall, tangles in his blanket, and nearly stumbles out the window when he manages to stand.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t foresee anyone coming here.”

“Department spent all of June arguin’ about whether it was worth allocatin funds for this, so that’s why the place was empty. Fire up North two weeks ago scared ‘em enough to send me up here.” Duck explains with a casual smile; after all, even if he’s way off the trail, there’s no reason to assume this guy is out to cause trouble, “if you got lost hikin, I’m happy to radio down and ask for someone to come get you and take you back to your camp.”

“Nono, I, ah, I’m not lost. One needs to have a destination to be lost.”

“O-kay. Uh, well, whatever you’re lookin for, I’m afraid this ain’t it. This buildin is for the fire lookout only.”

“I promise I’ll be very unobtrusive. I even have my own supplies, you won’t have to worry about me in the slightest.” The man smiles,opening one of his two bags to show it crammed with shiny packets of food.

Duck shakes his head, “Can’t do it, sorry. I’m serious though, if you need a ride into town I can get a hold of someone who can help. Maybe, uh, you could find whatever you’re lookin for there?”

“No” the man sags, but begins zipping up his bags, “I do not think I will find it there. I am sorry for intruding.” He steps out the door, turning towards the deeper woods on the western slope.

“You need a map?” Duck calls. The man doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

Duck unpacks as much as he can, checks the weather station and notes the readings suggest those thunderheads on the far horizon are coming his way. By dinnertime, they’re right on top of him, rain pattering on the roof and thunder rattling the windows. He’s scanning the trees when he spots a metallic flash, not of lightning but of silver hair. His mystery visitor is huddled under a tree, wind forcing the hood of his raincoat back over and over again.

The rules and regulations in the forest are there to keep the environment and visitors safe. If something doesn’t violate those basic requirements, Duck sees no reason not to bend them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“I really cannot stress how grateful I am that you allowed me back in.” The visitor, who introduced himself as Indrid, finishes packing their scant trash into the can, “I promise that as soon as the storm passes I’ll leave you be.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you really don’t got anywhere to call home, do you?”

Indrid opens his mouth. Duck stares, pointedly, at the holes in his white shirt and the worn shoes sticking out from frayed jeans.

“....No, I do not.”

“In that case, you stay here the next two months, on two conditions: one, you don’t get in the way of me doin what I’m here to do. Two, you don’t tell anyone I let you do this. Deal?”

“Yes, yes absolutely” Indrid shakes his hand, bouncing up and down a bit, “thank you so much. You will barely know I’m here.”

This turns out to be completely true and utterly false.

Indrid does keep to himself most of the day; he draws, reads, lays in the sun outside the cabin and generally stays out of Ducks way while he’s working. But he’s also the person who sits and jokes with him during meals, who eagerly follows Duck’s hand when he points out interesting birds or plants, and watches intently when Duck reads his instruments.

He never thought he could live in a fifteen by fifteen foot space with another person and not have a full head of grey by the end of it. Indrid Cold is the exception that proves the rule, Duck certain he’ll never be able to be cooped up with anyone but Indrid ever again.

It helps that he still gets his quiet time; Indrid will got out for walks, even watches for smoke so Duck can do the same. They use the wild foraging guide and Duck’s knowledge of local plants to bring back extra food. Indrid was particularly pleased when he located some wild blackberries. When Duck reminded him to watch out for bears near the berry patch, Indrid simply smirked and said there was only one bear on the mountain who could get him.

Duck’s daydreaming of what Indrid might do if caught on his way back from a dusk walk. And, more urgently, how he can convince Indrid that he wants to sleep outside tomorrow night. So it takes two tries of the front door before he notices it’s locked.

“Indrid?” he knocks, “you in there?” Stepping back, he finds the windows hastily covered by his bedsheets and blankets. He knocks harder, “that’s real fuckin dangerous, if there’s a fire we won’t see it. ‘Drid! Open the damn door!”

He continues banging, unanswered, as the moon--two days from full--rises above.

--------------------------------------

Indrid covers his ears to block out Duck’s increasingly worried shouts from outside. This is the right choice, the best of a bad bunch; it will keep Duck and anyone else nearby safe. The ranger will probably turn him away come morning, rightly furious at his irrationality. Indrid resolves not to argue with him; he’ll slink back into the trees, just like he did the last time someone threw him out for his transgressions.

It starts in his chest, his heartbeat climbing to marathon speeds in spite of him holding still. Then his skin prickles, silver hair sprouting from every follicle, followed by his back bowing in pain and his jaw elongating with a crack. From there the adrenaline kicks in, flooding his body so the transformation doesn’t render him unconscious (and therefore helpless) with pain. When next he raises his head, a werewolf with glowing, red eyes looks back at him from the darkened windows.

Beyond the covered windows, someone howls. Then he scents it, another of his kind coming dangerously close. He has to go out, he can’t leave Duck out there with something that will rip him apart, surely he likes the human enough for his mind to see him as a friend, not prey-

CRACK

The door splinters off its hinges; he growls, ready to defend his home. A deeper growl answers him as a larger wolf, black-furred and yellow eyed, stalks across the threshold.

“What. the. Fuck?” the newcomer snaps, “I told you, you can only stay if you don’t fuck up my work and locking me out comes real fuckin close to that!”

He cocks his head “Duck?”

“No, I’m the fuckin president of the united states.”

“I, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to all fours, then flattens to his belly just to be safe, “I didn’t know, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Duck points to the broken door, “you coulda just done that from the opposite side and I woulda been dinner.”

“No I, I know that if I confine myself I tend to be...calmer. I don’t get overstimulated and then agitated.”

“You coulda just told me. Lockin me out is real rude.”

Indrid whines, crawls close enough to nose at him.

“You don’t gotta do that; I ain't assertin dominance or some shit, I’m just a little annoyed.”

He whines again, “please don’t make me leave.”

“I won’t.” Duck’s voice turns softer.

“And you will not get angry at me for not being appropriately grateful for your leniency?”

Duck frowns, “Aw jesus, did you come from one of those old-school packs?

“Yes” Indrid grumbles, hating himself for how easily he fell into manners he loathes, how deep the teachings of his home run.

Duck eases him up so they’re both sitting, then noses the side of his face, “We don't do that around here. Least, I don't. I don’t spend a ton of time with most of the other Weres when they’re wolfed-out, but they ain’t big on tradition and hierarchy the rest of the time.”

“Ah. That’s, that’s good.”

The other Were stretches, stands and pads about the room, removing the make-shift curtains, “You gotta teach me how you’re so fuckin accurate on when the moon is full enough to make us shift whether or not we want to; I thought I had a day left. I, uh, I was gonna ask you to sleep in here while I ‘slept under the stars’ so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting someone?”

“Nah, especially not this far out. Sometimes I hunt deer, but whatever strain of this I got doesn’t go feral unless some shit goes majorly wrong.” He drops the blankets on the floor, “don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like huntin tonight. Or stargazin. I’m beat from work.”

“Agreed. Transforming against my will always makes me tired.”

Duck lays down on the floor,yawns, “In that case: sleep tight ‘Drid.”

Indrid tries to do just that. But every time he catches Duck’s scent he wishes he could move closer to him, then remembers that would be rude, and continues in that back and forth until he’s wide awake. It doesn’t help that his Were form runs cold; he’s shivering in spite of it still being close to eighty degrees.

His ears flick at Duck’s footfalls. Then a warm, bulky frame curls around his freezing, lanky one.

“This okay?” Duck carefully drapes an arm over him.

Indrid sighs, feeling safer than he has in a year, “better than.”

---------------------------------------------------------

“I’m a seer.”

Duck looks up from his breakfast, mouth full but question clear.

“Last night, you asked me how I knew we’d transform. Seeing the future makes it rather easy.”

“Damn, that does sound handy.”

“In many ways it is. Though it carries some, ah, some downsides.” Indrid steers his thoughts towards safer paths, “If you’d like, I could use it to help you with the fire lookout.”

The ranger grins, the expression twice as warm as his fur the night before, “That’d be fuckin great.”

Indrid smiles back, keeps his eyes on the windows so as not to look longingly back at the rumpled sheets. They awoke this morning in a heap, Duck’s modesty preserved only by a blanket and Indrid’s hair stuck in all directions. He’d been ready to apologize for not moving away before dawn, but Duck simply reached out, stroked his hair down, and asked if he wanted coffee.

-------------------------------------------------

“You’re right, you can see more animals this way.” They’re perched, fully transformed, on the rocks outside the cabin. Indrid knows how to use his night vision for hunting, but Duck is teaching him how to use it for more peaceful matters.

“Yeah, long as you stay put most animals get up the nerve to nose around some.”

They’d transformed side by side, Duck banging his head in the process. Indrid licked near the bruise and made soothing, sympathetic sounds when Duck whined and cursed his luck. Back home, being demonstrative was frowned upon; here, Duck seems to always be casually bumping their bodies together.

When they go to bed several hours after moonrise, they curl up side by side without hesitation. It’s so very easy to tune out his visions when Duck is near and Indrid falls asleep while the ranger is still whispering about the birds they can hear.

He wakes up an hour later in a panic, disasters of visions past tearing through his mind.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?” Duck noses the base of his neck.

“Nothing. Just a bad dream.” He closes his eyes, tries to focus on Duck’s scent, his breath, the wind in the trees, but still the ghosts of his memories lurk in the corners of his vision.

“Can I try somethin?” Duck murmurs. Indrid thought he’d gone back to sleep.

“Of course.”

Teeth tenderly and ever so carefully clamp the fur and skin of his neck. He goes limp in one breath. He was high status enough that no one ever did this to him, but goodness does he wish they had

The ranger let’s go, “Do I need to do it again?”

“Please.”

Duck obliges and Indrid whimpers, melting shamelessly in his arms.

“Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Any time, ‘Drid. Uh, before you, uh, go to sleep there’s somethin I wanna ask you. Since you need a place to stay, do you, uh, wanna stay with me? In Kepler.”

“You’d really like that? You, if this is out of pity-”

“It ain’t.”

There were no futures where it was. Indrid wanted to hear the words all the same.

“Besides” Duck nuzzles him, “we already know we make damn good roommates.”

Indrid can’t help it; he howls, brief and joyful, safe in the knowledge that Duck will be ready with a laugh and a kiss in reply.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 85

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

"What can you give me about Hill and her huntresses?" Ironwood asked me as we walked briskly up to his office.

"Fiona has some sort of matter absorption semblance. Evidently she can put a plane in her pocket and walk away. It's Striker ranged and probably limited to non-living things, I'm speculating on that bit. Still, it's supposed to be fairly wicked. May has the invisibility field. It's got a decent radius and it's mobile. It fucked with one of my own operations once. Sabotaged me. Then there's Joanna. She's got super strength, classic Brute," I informed him. "You want me here for this? I've had a run one with them before."

"You'll be with me," he affirmed. He swung the doors open to his office and he sat down at his desk.

I took to a corner by the window. I folded my arms. My sword hilt extended over my head.

"Their weapons?" Ironwood asked me.

"These crossbow staves. Probably modifiable with dust rounds. Except Hill. She's got a crossbow with blades on either side. My man described it as like a fan or an accordian."

"Your man?"

"A union leader down in Mantle. That's how he worked with Hill. You want the details?"

He shook his head. He steepled his hands before him and we waited. Penny came skipping into the room. She saw me, smiled, and waved at me. I grinned back at her and nodded.

"Oh are we acting brooding? I'll do my best." She imitated me by the far side of the long window.

"I don't need to act. I am brooding," I laughed back. "But yeah. A little."

"Hill should be up any minute."

"Good. I was getting tired of looking relaxed."

"I'm glad you two get along," Ironwood mumbled. "It bodes well. For you in particular, Strife."

"Eh, it's mostly Ruby." I kicked my foot around, rolling out my left ankle.

"Don't say that. I thought we were friends."

"We are, Penny. I'm trying to brood, though."

"I see…"

Hill pushed her way into the room with a small smile. She took me and Penny in. She had Fiona with her and another woman I recognized as Joanna Greenleaf from a photo.

Fiona nudged Hill. "That's him. Cloud Strife. The killer mercenary."

Hill glanced at me. "I've heard a bit about you, done some nasty business in my town. What? You working for Ironwood now?"

"For the foreseeable future. Judge ordered. You could probably find out about it. Given your seat," Ironwood returned from behind his steepled fingers.

"You give up the merc life?" She asked. Her question directed at me.

"For now," I answered.

"You're a dangerous man, Strife, I'd be glad to hear you're playing for the good guys. If that's what's going on here."

"It sort of is. You fucked with my operation. Don't think I don't know."

"I did nothing illegal. Nothing anybody could prove at any rate." She showed her teeth. I liked her. "Not like you and Taurus."

"You heard anything about him?" I wondered. "I have a blood score to settle with the bastard."

"Not a peep. He's been laying low. Like I thought you and your illusionist were. Color me surprised to find you standing beside the General. Right beside the protector of Mantle after the shit you pulled."

Maybe this was why Ironwood wanted me here. To divert her focus. I doubted he wanted me for moral support. He wanted me on as a distraction. So I'd be as distracting as possible.

"Those charges were dropped," Penny said.

"You hear that?" I asked. "It's like I never did it."

"But you did do it," Fiona spat. "You killed people."

"Interesting way you phrased that," Hill said with a hand raised at Fiona beside her.

"I only killed other criminals." I shrugged. "And I got time served with a hefty fine."

"Meaningless to someone like you," Hill countered.

"Not meaningless. Just the best I could have hoped for."

"But are you reformed? Do you serve Atlas and Mantle well?" Robyn wondered.

"To the very best of my ability, I protect the people now."

"Will you swear by it?" Hill held out her hand.

"Sure. I'll promise." I took her hand. Purple flowed over my hand as I took hers and it wreathed both of us.  "What do you want me to say?" I asked. Words could be very particular.

"That you serve as a guardian to the people, now."

"I serve as a guardian to the people now." I echoed. I technically did before too. Her aura flashed green. It must have registered as true because she reclined looking satisfied.

"Now that that's settled we can get down to business. When will the new tower be ready for launch?"

"Classified. You shouldn't even know about the tower," Ironwood returned.

"But I do. And this will go smoother if we work together, General. I can vote in your favor or I can vote against you at every turn. I can even raise a vote of no confidence."

The General grimaced. I think that he hoped I'd buy him more time before the nitty-gritty.

Robyn leaned over his desk and spread her palms on it. Hunching over on him.

"What's it gonna be, General? I can do worse besides. I can petition to have your council seat taken away. How long will your precious tower take to get completed then. Work with me. I just want to talk."

"You want to talk for now."

"That's right," Hill returned. "I might change my mind based on what I hear, too." At least she was open and clear about it. The value of her prizing honesty.

"The launch is two months out." Ironwood stated.

He stood up and towered over Hill with her slumping over the desk. She recoiled back and stretched to her full height. It was still nowhere near the General and closer to me though she was tall for a woman.

"All of our attention has been on raising the tower and restoring communications between the kingdoms."

"Even though Mantle suffers," she murmured.

I thought about saying something like 'Mantle always suffers' but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't the time. Never let be said I couldn't be diplomatic.

"Some sacrifices have had to be made to get things done but we're in the final stretch now. No going back."

"I want things to get better for Mantle, General. And fast."

"I'm working as fast as I can," Ironwood vowed.

"I want you to slow down the launch of it means things can get better for Mantle. Diverting both supplies and huntsmen."

"That isn't practical."

"Practical be damned. Mantle always bears the lion's share of the suffering for Atlas. All for it's floating neighbor. You want me to not vote against you at every turn so this project gets completed? You're going to have to make concessions. That means voting my way on minimum wage increases and miner safety standards. Even if those safety standards set back your little project."

Ironwood sighed. It sounded like she had him in a corner.

"We are so close." He grunted. He sounded frustrated and exasperated. "So close to getting this project done. For everybody's benefit."

"Well it just got further away. One way or another. Not one more miner will die for this or anything else. They matter to me. What's it gonna be, James?"

"Friends call me James. You can call me Ironwood or General."

"Petty," she clicked her tongue. She had him in a vice though. She'd be petty and slow down the project too. She was a woman of her word. No one with a semblance like that wouldn't be.

"It sounds like I've got little choice. Just know that once my project is complete I won't back down so easily anymore."

"I'm counting on it, General," she turned on a clicking heel and left. Her tour de force departed with her.

"Sorry. I tried but she wasn't going to be distracted. Not by me and not by Penny."

Ironwood groaned. "The launch just got set back a month. Minimum. And if I start capitulating now who knows when it will end."

"She's a woman of her word. So you've got that going for you."

"At least it wasn't Jacque Schnee," Penny chipped in brightly. "This election could have gone much worse. She's willing to work with you if you work with her."

My scroll chirped. I pulled it out of my pocket.

"Strife. Who’s this?"

"Aurum. I've got a hit on your lady friend. She's here. She's threatening me. She demanded my information. She was asking the same sort of questions you were. I need to know what that's about now."

"You don't. I'll be there."

"My life is on the line! She immolated my men!"

"Try and hold her there. I'm coming. Let's get lucky and kill her."

"Sorry Cloud but I have got to do what I got to do to protect my business."

"Just hold her. I'm on my way."

I cut the connection.

"Something important?" Ironwood asked.

"I got a hit on Cinder. She's about to burn one of my contacts to death. I need to get there."

Ironwood nodded. "Do you need reinforcements? I'll call Ace Ops."

"Better call Team RWBY too and put them on standby with Qrow. She's at The Den."

"I'm sending Penny with you."

"Let's go Penny." I said with a nod by the door. "You and I will fly there."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

Penny and I swooped down on The Den. "You take her accomplices. Let me worry about Cinder."

"Do you believe that you can defeat her?"

"We're about to find out." Let’s hope that sounded confident.

I bust in the door to find the club empty and quiet. The lack of music and the distant smell of inhalants gave the place a void like feeling. It was strangely empty and lacking.

"Sorry Cloud. It's nothing personal. Just business, you understand." It was Aurum's voice coming from the top floor above me. "She forced me. You get it."

There was the clink of glass heels on the floor above us and Cinder Fall came into view.

"You," she purred. "Jaune Arc was it? I owe you for when last we met." Her one eye glowed like embers.

"It was. Not anymore. It's Cloud now."

"A change in name will mean little to my mistress. You're her son."

"Hardly. She didn't raise me," I shot back. I drew the broadsword from over my shoulder. I gripped the enormous handle beneath the titanic cross guard the shield helped form.

"She has bade me not kill you and your sisters have a certain fury I would dread but whatever happens happens," she sung. She spread her fingers and a flame grew across them. "You would have had me last time if not for my maiden powers. Powers which have doubled. I'm sure you are aware. And you've been spying for me. Through this rabble but you've been on the look out nonetheless."

She made Aurum call me, then. Aurum dashed out the exit, trying to keep his life intact and escaping while we were both distracted. Cinder set a trap for me. Sustrai stepped out from behind Cinder with Black in tow. I watched and my vision faded as Sustrai narrowed her eyes at me. She was trying to use her semblance on me.

I shouted at Penny and I watched a blurring kaleidoscope fly up to them and slash out at Emerald with ten floating blades appendages. My vision snapped back into focus and in perfect time for me to see Cinder descending on me with flames pouring from her feet to aid her assault. As she flew she left fire behind on the glass dance floor. I met a strike from her similarly glass weapons and stuttered back a step on the dance floor.

I activated my semblance and brought my weapon around to match her. I drew an electric crystal from my pocket. I crushed it in my palm and sent a thunderbolt at her. She blocked it by crossing her weapons and her one eye flared at me with the power of the maidens. She gestured and a half dozen fireballs floated into place before her. She blew gently. Like she was blowing a kiss at me, I didn’t catch it, and I was forced to dance out of the way of the fireballs.

I went through them. I rolled and floated towards her through the conflagration. I stabbed my sword downward and tore up glass as I pushed it screeching across the dance floor towards her. She met my strike with both her weapons crossed.

Then she struck out at me in high, low, high fashion, alternating each blade. She twirled with the motion and I was forced on the defensive, blocking each one of her attacks. I never let her truly get close to me with the enormous blade between us.

She waved her palm and a flare shot up inside the tight room towards me. I couldn't be sure how Penny was doing against her two opponents because I was too focused on Cinder.

I blocked her and seesawed my weapon down on her. Sparks flew from her glass weapons from where my Titania edge but down into them.

"I'm going to kill you this time. We'll see how my Mother takes that," I whispered. I spoke softly as I threatened her. As I made my vow.

Lightning ran up her weapons and into my arms. It made me tremble in pain for a moment before she pushed me off of her and kicked me in my exposed chest. Then she flew at me.

"Aren't you quite the little rebel. Doing what makes mommy mad?" She laughed at that.

"Oh I'll piss her right the fuck off. Can't imagine she was happy I didn't bring the relic to her."

She pointed her sword at me and there was a kazzap of lightning. I blocked it on the edge of my weapon but she just swung her weapon around her body again. A trail of fire emanating from it and growing larger until she whipped a lash of red hot blaze right at my head.

I rolled again and came up thrusting at her, forcing her to block. She swung at me with one of her glass weapons but at the far range of my weapon I was too distant and she miscalculated.

She dropped into a crouch and pointed both her weapons at me and there was another mighty kazizzle of electricity.  I jumped over it and brought my weapon down on her head in a move that forced her to block with both of her own. It shattered the dance floor around us for yards and yards. All the way to the edge near the bar.

"You're right of course. She was most displeased. She will punish you for it given the opportunity. I think not, however. You will die here."

She waved her hand and a gale picked up. All the glass from the once smooth and now shattered dance floor flew up from it. She gestured at me and I hunkered behind the wide edge of my weapon and weathered the storm of glass pellets. Some struck into my aura and chipped it away. I held firm against the wind.

Blue light still licked at my body but it seemed like my semblance would not be enough. I couldn't imagine spending it and then being forced to fight her without it. If I spent it, when I spent it, it would have to be for the kill. I could use it for no other purpose. And it would probably have to be the Octa slash. No other attack would do enough damage in a single go to take her down except maybe a Finishing Touch.

I'd hardly touched her. Hadn't touched her, I realized.

When the gale broke down she hit me hard with both flaming feet. Not as hard as Penny had with a similar move but hard enough to send me stumbling back. Next she delivered three lighting fast diagonal slashes to my torso. She ripped away massive chunks of my aura.

Then she thrust forward and I blocked to the side. Her weapon buried in my personal soul based force field to the hilt right next to my head. She still managed to rip away a chunk of blue light from my body.

Things were seriously not good. Her magic was too much for me and her competence with a blade in each hand was nothing to scoff at.

I kicked her back. A move that caught her in the gut. Then I swung my blade towards her head in a massive strike that she caught with both her weapons. Making yet another 'x' shape. It seemed to be her go to in order to block against my titanic sword.

I screamed and flew at her. Closing the little distance between us with a shoulder check that knocked her to the ground.

I danced at her, flowing like water as she caught herself on one hand and tried to cartwheel back but I chased her roll now that she was out of position. Now that she was in serious disadvantage and close to me I made to capitalize on it.

I caught up to her and hit her once vertically diagonally downward and to the right. Then I reversed and came diagonally up and to the left. Then I can back down on her diagonally and from the right once more in a staggering triple hit. The kind I'd seen do twenty-five percent or more of Ruby's aura when I wasn't Limit Broken. When I wasn't Limitless.

I didn't spend the charge on it but I did shout, a scream left my lips as I performed the move with exertion. It flung her back and into one of the bars and into the wall in a shattering of glass and bottles.

She flew out of the hole in the wall and through the crevice her body had left in the bar. A trail of flame coming behind her and at her feet. I flew to meet her and where we struck the ground rippled like it was made of liquid for a moment before elasticity caught up with it and it shattered.

I was taller than her. I was conventionally stronger, too. Especially while Limit Break was active and I slowly lowered my weapon down onto her while her back twisted from trying to match me in the crater on the floor.

She kicked my leg at the hip but I only grunted and took it. I took one hand off my blade and backhanded her hard with my knuckles. Then I slid forward a step and reversed my hand and grabbed her by the throat and picked her up into the air. I pulled her in and kneed her in the stomach hard enough to make spittle fly from her lips.

Then Mercury came flying and kicked me in the back. Then he shot me in the back with both of his boot guns.

I twisted to my feet again on a pocket of air. He was breathing hard. So was Cinder where I'd knocked the wind out of her.

I wasn't much better and now that they were alone Emerald let out a scream where Penny slammed her hard into a wall.

"Ma'am…" Mercury trailed.

"Save Emerald," Cinder hissed.

Then I gambled. I dashed forward like I was going to hit Cinder. Then I spent Limit on a thrust but not at her. I thrust up and into Mercury's aura and then into his chest in a crackle of violet energy.

Blood flew from his lips as I speared him. Penny had done enough work for this to pay off and from the sounds of things she'd defeat Emerald too.

"No," Cinder whispered. The battle was out of her favor.

"Yes!" I roared. The edge was ours now.

I watched as Emerald plucked herself from the wall and fell to her knees. A tear on her face as we all saw Mercury slide onto my six foot blade.

"Emerald! Get us out of here!" Cinder called.

I swung my sword and Mercury flopped off the blade. He was already dead. I flexed and started charging my next semblance. With slow promise I stood and began the charge. Soon.

"Emerald!" Cinder barked. I was assaulted with a massive illusion. Penny was too from the way she stepped back in shock on the second floor. A gigantic image of my Mother rose from the twisted glass and roared.

Cinder burned a hole in the wall and grabbed Emerald's sobbing form and fled. I was too shocked by the cyclopean vision of my Mother to move.

"Cloud!" Penny called to me distantly. I fell to my knees before the image of my Mother and held my hands up like I was expecting an attack, I fumbled my sword with dumb hands. My brain burned and my mind was ajar.

Mother…

I thought. And despite that I knew it was an illusion. Despite the distance between us I heard her answer.

“My son…”

"No…" I whimpered.

“Yes…”  

The voice seethed.

“Yes… you belong to me… I am your mistress…”

I could feel her shadow on the corner of my mind. She twisted into me and trapped me between agonies I knew weren't true.

"Cloud are you alright?"

The massive image of my Mother faded. But she lingered on my brain. A growing pressure. I howled in pain. She raked at my body and I convulsed.

"Cloud, it wasn't real."

"She's in my… my… my…" I stuttered like a broken record player. Then I started to froth at the mouth. I seized on the broken dance floor.

“My son… my precious son…”

"Oh my gods!" I heard Penny cry. "Don't worry, Cloud, help is on the way!"

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [10/-]

summary: memories.

warnings: fluff, angst, & a little bit of swearing

a/n: i really liked writing this part, no matter how long it took me.. haha..

tag(s): @dearestbailey !

note: for purposes of respect, his father’s name is Brutus Dolan.

"Please be careful, your friends are pretty reckless. Especially at night, Grayson." Y/N warned with a worried glint in her eyes, a sore, unwanted feeling settling in the lowest part of her stomach.

Wrapping his muscled arms around her, he reassured her with a soft hum that vibrated against her neck. "I'll make sure they're careful, sweetheart." He tightened the embrace, like he was holding on for the very last time— in which he would..

And she returned it just as taut, as though she could foresee the unforgivable future..

"Y/N?" His mellowed voice shook the air around him as he questioned her name, withholding the tears that would soon fall the moment he left her arms.

"Yes, Grayson?" She held onto his name, letting her tongue slide over it for the millionth time. It'd never get old, the way his name made her heart flutter and her head spin.

"You know that I love you.." He took a large breath in, exhaling slowly through his nose, "And I want you in my future, for the rest of my life, however long forever lasts." His cheeks warmed as his eyes filled to the brim with the pain and acknowledgement of the near future.

"Just stay with me tonight, I'm sure your friends won't mind." Y/N could feel the doubt and sadness that washed over his tanned skin, and it made her heart sink. She wasn't sure what it all was, but this goodbye felt different.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He withdrew his firm grasp of her, settling his eyes on her own saddened ones. She suspected something, he could tell, but she would have no idea of what is to come in the later hours of this very night.

He slipped his calloused hands around her cheeks, faintly drawing patterns with his thumb as he took in her face for what could be the final glimpse. And before he could control himself, he rested his lips against hers in a rhythmic beat, holding onto the lasting feeling of her lips on his.

So surreal.

"I love you too." Her words boomed in his ears and made his heart pump ten times faster, after breaking away from each other's warmth.

Grayson let her words sink in through his ears and blend into his blood, caging her voice in his head for the rest of eternity.

He took a couple steps back, sparing one more glance before brushing his fingertips against the door handle, leaving with a quick huff and slam of the door.

If he wouldn't of left then, he would've never been able to leave ever.

Tears began to trickle down his face, staining his cheeks red as the wind whipped against his face and his choked-up sobs closed his throat.

Y/N didn't shed a tear, she had an eerie feeling, but she couldn't bare the thought of a life without him— so she didn't think of it at all.

-

"That's impossible.." Your voice gloomed as your brows furrowed into a dark mix of confusion and surprise, bringing that inordinate sense of tears filling your eyes.

You wouldn't cry, not in front of him.

You aimlessly searched the room with your wandering pupils, anything to stray away from meeting his mournful gaze. "He died ten years ago, in a crash.." Those very words made your stomach churn and uproar with anger and hurt. An unexpected sob rushed its way through your mouth and broke the barricade of tears that filled your eyes, short hiccups following in suit.

"There's a lot of explaining to do, I know, but please trust me—"

"You expect me to trust you?" Anger now rushed through your burning veins, your stained cheeks becoming a fiery red. The overflowing amount of tears that seeped from your eyes had rolled all the way down your chin and neck, the fabric of your shirt absorbing the warm liquid.

"No Y/N, I don't." He began with his jaw clenched, frustration beaming from his countenance, "But please let me explain myself, I beg you." His hand slid its way around yours, but you declined his warmth and drew your hand away.

You didn't respond right away, although the desperation had clouded your head and you took a seat. "What's his favorite color?"

"Green."

"Brothers name."

"Ethan."

"Sister's na—"

"Cam."

"Favorite food."

"Pancakes." He smiled.

"Birthday."

"December 16, 1999."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Fuck you." You oh-so-softly smiled, your stomach fluttering. You were convinced, surprisingly easy, but you couldn't help the familiarity of his face and body, though there were a lot of differences as well...

The two of you stood in silence for what could possibly be forever. You wiped the drying tears from your cheeks, sniffling the remnants of your emotional state away.

"Would you like to talk in the garden?" He questions, breaking the pause and raising his arm just enough for your own to hook around it, a pleading smile curving his lips.

Oh, how you wanted to giggle and wear a cheesy grin like you would've done all those years ago, but everything has changed. You've grown up, matured from teenager to adult, dealt with the side effects of losing a loved one at such a young age.

It wasn't easy after he left.

"I guess.." You answered, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of your skin on his, something he's taken for granted.

Saddened, he lets his arm fall back to his side. "I forgot how stubborn you were." He chuckled, motioning you to follow as he began a walk in an uncertain direction.

"You've forgotten a lot of things.." You murmured, sighing as you begrudgingly trail after him.

It wasn't too long of a trail to get to what you assumed to be the backyard of such an estate, which of course had an utterly beautiful and blooming garden. The both of you were stood on the cement patio, halfway dry and wet from all the rain, you had noticed.

"Here." He handed you a pair of bright red rain boots, eerily the correct size. He had his own, purple rubber covering almost up to his knees as a plasticy yellow coat hung on his shoulders. It was a humorous sight, such an intimidating man looking like an eight year-old excited to play in the mud.

Child at heart, huh.

He helped you into a smaller coat like his, making it difficult to hold back an awful grin. You didn't share any words as the two of you began the path that led to the garden of sorts. There seemed to be two sides; one for vegetables and one for all the colorful flowers.

"It wasn't my choice, y'know.." He spoke aloud, walking side-by-side with you down an aisle of vibrant purple and blue tulips. You hummed in question, traveling your fingers softly over the delicate petals of a certain petunia, a rosy pink one that faded into white.

"To leave you that night, unknowingly saying goodbye for the last time. I didn't want to do it."

"Then why did you." It was more of a demand from your lips than a question.

"My father needed me." He seethed, an anger arising in his tone at the remembrance.

"I needed you." You stated under your breath, sucking in a large breath. "Who were all those men in that room the other day?" You questioned, changing the subject to ease his frustration.

"My men, and I'm sorry abo—"

"No you're not, you enjoyed that." You knew he would try to apologize for embarrassing you in front of a crowd, but does he really think you're that innocent to believe him? Not anymore, now.

He kept silent, although a small smirk crept on his lips. "Explain who your "Men" are." You had had enough of all the questions in your head, and now seems like the perfect time to discuss them, finally get some answers for once.

"They work for me and my business. It was my father's before mine and Ethan's." His low voice echoed outside, bouncing against all the trees and wildlife.

"How's Ethan?" You pondered, slightly wondering if she's seen him at all.

"He's doing fine, a ladies man from what the boys say." He chuckles, sticking his hands in his pockets. "We haven't been talking much lately, just business inquiries and such. He misses you, a lot."

"I miss him too, and Cam." You reminisce on all those old memories, smiling to yourself. "How's your mother? The last time I talked to her was graduation." You furrow your brows, sorrowful that you hadn't kept in touch with such a kind women.

"She's as good as ever, still compares everyone to you." He smiles too, showing those pearly whites that you were so used to.

"Grayson?" The mention of his name on your tongue gave him shuttering goosebumps, something he didn't think he'd ever hear again.

"Yes, Y/N." The two of you completely stopped to face each other, his brows crossed and your eyes full of question.

"Tell me what happened.. that night, when you left me.."

-

Grayson slammed his fists against the steering wheel, on the brink of screaming and cursing the world for its cruelness as tears fell rapidly. Eternal hatred filled his lungs, and the air around him poisoned all the happiness he had ever had a grasp of.

And it was his fault.

Brutus, his father, whose heart was made of stone and his mind of brick, took away the only thing that kept him sane in such a sickening world.

Y/N.

“You have no say in this, son. You knew this day would arrive, and now it has.” Brutus’s cold stare burned into Grayson’s eyes, unaffected by his own child’s mourning.

Grayson didn’t fight back, he hardly moved from his seat that was set in front of his father’s large, stained desk. His entire body hurt; first beginning from his heart, down his legs, up his neck, and finally pooling within his eyes.

“You have one final goodbye with her. Follow my instructions, Grayson, and you’ll thank yourself later on.” Brutus stood, barely acknowledging the sorrowful man hung low in his chair.

“I’ll never forgive myself.” He hoarsely whispered to himself, straining the sobs away— lost within himself.

His heart shattered as he followed through with his father’s word; a faked death alongside his brother.

to be continued...

[deathandmushrooms]

It's been raining for forever and will rain for the foreseeable future. Great for future-mushroomer me, but it's driving present-me batty. So, here's...

Some non-exhaustive-but-potentially-exhausting maybe-helpful mushroom-foraging guidelines for the curious-but-anxious beginner...

We can assure our readers, whom we wish to preserve, that there are only two facts to bear in mind when selecting fungi:

ALL FUNGI ARE EDIBLE.

SOME FUNGI ARE NOT EDIBLE MORE THAN ONCE.

- Discworld Almanak by Terry Pratchett

Below, you'll find:

Finding and Identifying mushrooms

Foraging mushrooms

Eating mushrooms

Finding and Identifying Mushrooms

Don't eat anything unless you're so confident with it you would feed it to you favorite writer currently working on the dramatic final installment of whatever you're most excited about. Ask yourself: would I feed this to renowned author and local Tumblr treasure @neil-gaiman? No? Then spit it out, Jeremy.

Mushrooms aren't scary. The more knowledgeable you become, and the humbler you remain, the more confident you'll be. Find people who know mushrooms, and preferably not just on The Internet. Get a guidebook or 3 (ideally local) and learn relevant terminology and identifying features (e.g. different kinds of pore surface: gills, tubes, etc). Find a lot of mushrooms and take them home to ID.

But before you do, take many pics in situ if you can. Environment and ecology can be key to a positive ID. Harvesting mushrooms you don't plan on eating is a great way to practice learning relevant terminology and building up a sommelier-esque mushroom vocabulary. "Ah yes, this coral fungus smells woody, with hints of moss....and a soupçon of string cheese."

Research, forage, and cook with intention. When hunting for a mushroom, learn all its look-alikes, especially toxic ones. Don't just note what the mushroom looks like, but where it's growing, how it's growing, amongst whom it's growing, whom it has beef with. Is it growing saprotrophically off a dead log (I.e. Breaking down dead material)? That's probably not a chanterelle, but it might be a jack-o-lantern and supposedly they're slightly bioluminescent so you should probably take it home, bring it to some dark corner, see if the gills really glow and then not eat it regardless.

Mushroom identifying apps are a good way to get some ID possibilities to research more thoroughly, but do not rely on them alone.

Set yourself up for success by starting off with mushrooms with no toxic look-alikes, or those with a few key features that clearly distinguish them from their toxic look-alike (morels, chicken or the woods, lion's mane, etc). Research mushrooms in your area, pick a few (seasonally appropriate) varieties to keep an eye out for. The fewer varieties you focus on, the less likely you are to get your wires crossed. And...

... learn their ecology and save yourself a lot of heartache looking for mushrooms in places they could never grow. Do they grow mycorrhizally with a certain type of tree? That is, do they form a symbiotic relationship with certain trees? Or do they grow saprotrophically, breaking down dead wood. Do they prefer certain environments? For example, I started off with black trumpets. They have no toxic look-alikes, and they are usually growing mycorrhizally with oak in mossy areas. I look at my feet for moss and acorns and then I know my chances are fair, weather permitting.

Foraging mushrooms

Get a knife, maybe a brush, and a breathable container (e.g. Basket, canvas tote) where your mushrooms won't get crushed. It's amazing how fast a plastic bag can speed up rotting. Also...maybe look up local knife laws.

Clean as much as you can in the field. Trim off the dirtiest part of the stem, check for debris.

Before you're confident with field identification, store different species and mushrooms from different patches in different containers. I take a canvas backpack with me with paper lunchbags that I label with a number. When I take pictures of the mushroom and it's environment, I also take a picture of the bag I'm putting them in. Because I am anal.

Just because a mushroom is a member of an edible species, doesn't mean that particular mushroom is good for eating. Mushrooms can get infested with bugs, or mold, or succumb to the ravages of time that come for us all. Give it a sniff, and if it smells off, it is. Check for bugs; especially with boletes. Scrape away the tubes to check (but only after you've gotten a confident ID; after you do this you can't take a spore print). For example, here are some pictures of some black trumpets which are choice edibles.

The ones on the left are good, but the ones on the right are no good. With black trumpets, I'll smell a bad one before I even see it. It's important to learn how a mushroom's appearance changes over its life cycle, or how weather conditions might change the appearance.

The "real" organism, so to speak, is the mycelium. The mushrooms are the fruiting bodies. So, make note of nice patches of your favorites. Depending on the type of mushrooms, it might fruit several times over a season. I take a screen cap of where I am on Google maps and save it alongside pictures of the mushrooms and selfies of me doing my excited mushroom face. Some mushrooms, like chanterelles, are slow growers. But others might only need a few days after a good rain to pop up.

Eating mushrooms

Don't eat multiple foraged mushrooms in one meal. Wait 1-2 days between varieties. Poison Control has a hard enough job as it is without you complicating things unnecessarily.

Thoroughly cook all mushrooms. Safety aside, that's just good culinary sense. Gotta caramelize those natural sugars, dontcha know. Maillard reaction and all that.

Even if a mushroom isn't "toxic," you might learn something new and upsetting about yourself when you eat it, like an obscure food sensitivity you inherited from that ancestor you never knew you had but now get to secretly resent. So, when eating a new mushroom COOK AND EAT A SMALL PIECE AND WAIT 24 HOURS. Wait for what? Hopefully nothing. But if you start getting stomach cramps, itching in weird places, or visual hallucinations, you may want to toss those mushrooms back into the wild. TBF to mushrooms, this is true of all food. I've yet to experience this with mushrooms, but I have had this experience with fruit! Did that stop me from eating fruit? No: my survival instincts aren't great. My ancestors were very lucky.

Different mushrooms can be stored different ways for the long term: drying, freezing, etc. But in the short term, a paper bag in the fridge is ideal.

When in doubt, butter or olive oil and a little sea salt. Also, cream and thyme are lovely with most mushrooms. Very thin mushrooms (e.g. Craterellus) barely need any time on the heat at all before they're done or past done, i.e. shrivelled up into a small non descript mass in the pan with all the texture of sad dirt jam.

Or just fry them in pancetta. You do you.

Most importantly: do your own research and a lot of it.

Foraging for mushrooms is hugely rewarding, and learning is a process: in this case, a very enjoyable one.

I mean... unless you poison yourself.

But still,