#<- assuming they wake up at different times

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 5

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.9k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: It's time for the first mixed program of the spring schedule, and so it's finally time to see Din perform.

a/n: Thank you everyone for your lovely comments on the last chapter. Everything still feels pretty shitty but being part of this community does not! See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit more angst (sorry), but we also have fluff

Chapter 5

In stark contrast to that disaster of a rehearsal, your performance in the January program went well. The first night had its usual jitters, but even so, you felt proud of the performance you and the others put on. And Jee had been excited and full of praise, with only a couple of notes about the choreography, which made you more excited for the next performance.

On Friday, though, you had a small costume malfunction, and so you were busy getting stuck with pins and missed Din’s solo. You heard the music from La Bayadère start and cursed — you knew you wouldn’t be back in time.

On Saturday, you saw it. You saw him.

You were standing in the wings, huddled with Adrian and a small group of dancers when Din’s music began. Everyone backstage quieted as soon as the orchestra began. He was wearing a sort-of doublet and white tights that screamed classical ballet. He started in the wings just in front of you and you watched the line of his neck and back as he walked calmly onto the stage.

You knew Talia had chosen three of Solor’s variations from different versions of the ballet. She had Din moving off stage and back on to continue with the three solos that usually appeared at different moments throughout the long performance. Three demanding solos, all in a row.

The music swelled and Din swept his arm upward and, from his first movement, he stole your breath away. Your eyes followed the sheer height of his jumps, the beautiful lines of his extensions. You couldn’t help but marvel at the perfection of his technique, the absolute ease of his movements. You watched the flex of his muscles and wondered at his strength. He made everything look effortless. He had such control, but none of that showed — his face was calm, expression serene. 

You tightened your hold on Adrian’s hand.

Din dipped into the wings and back out for the second variation, and you felt someone next to you suck in a sharp breath when Din launched himself into the air into a double saut de basque in attitude followed by a revoltade. How did he look so weightless?

Talia had been right — this was the perfect way to showcase the absolute phenomenon that was Din Djarin. His strength, his precision, his control, his power, his grace: all of it was on display. 

In the third variation, you assumed he must have been tired. But he soared through multiple double assemblé turns with such ease, it looked like he was floating. 

When he fell into his final pose, the audience lost their minds.

You looked at Adrian, and he looked at you, eyebrows high. 

“That was insane,” Adrian whispered, and you nodded. “I knew he was good, but oh my god.”

You agreed. And you couldn’t help but start to worry, again, about the pas de deux. How were you supposed to partner someone who danced like that? 

…

You worried over that question so much over the next few days that the words started to feel meaningless in your mind. You found yourself waking up too early, too anxious to sleep. It was only a matter of time before that started to show in your dancing. 

In class you didn’t look at Din. You knew you were letting this grow into something in your mind that it probably wasn’t, but you couldn’t get a handle on it. You’d been through this before — moments where all you could see were your own flaws — but none of the tricks you’d learned over the years to claw your way out of it were working this time.

By Thursday, you were so anxious about the entire thing that it must have shown on your face, or in your body. Adrian took one look at you after morning class and pulled you into the smaller, sad break room (with the couch everyone hated) to make you breathe with him until you calmed down.

“Look at me,” he said after you’d taken several deep breaths in unison, squeezing your hand. “You can do this. One practice isn’t enough to make or break anything, you know that. You’ve been there before.”

You nodded, closing your eyes and clutching his hand with both of yours. 

“He’s good, we’ve all seen it. But so are you.” Adrian’s voice was firm and you tried to believe it, too. “And you know Kuiil picked you for a reason. Think about it — Din Djarin has never danced anything remotely like this choreography. On Saturday he was doing what he’s best at, and of course it was freaking amazing. But you’re better at this.”

He was right. You let that truth of it settle somewhere in your chest. You felt at home in more contemporary ballet choreography, and to your knowledge Din had never so much as tried it. Concordia would never even consider it, that much was definitely true.

“You can do both, you know? I bet that was part of it. Casting someone who could show him how to let go of what he knows. He isn’t going to be the only person in that room who’s an expert on something.”

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. When you met Adrian’s gaze, he smiled. “There you are. You ready?”

You nodded. “I can do this.” You couldn’t let yourself get in your head like that. You knew better.

“Hell yeah, you can. Come on.” He stood and tugged you to your feet, and then grabbed your shoulders. “Go fucking blow him away, ok? I know you can.” He shook you a little, and you laughed.

“Ok! Ok. I can do this.”

…

You tried to let that run through your mind like a mantra as you stepped into the small rehearsal studio. You can do this. 

Kuiil and Din were standing by the sound equipment again. As always, Din was wearing black tights, black sweats cut off at the knees, and a tight, long-sleeve black shirt. You pointedly did not let your eyes linger on the line of his shoulders.

“Come in, my dear. We are going to start with something different today.”

You tried not to wince as Kuiil beckoned you forward, remembering the disaster of the week before.

“Today I will give each of you part of your solo pieces for the start, and I would like you to watch each other as you learn and begin to practice them.” He looked at each of you in turn as you nodded. “I want you to pay attention to each other. How do your bodies move as you learn? How do you come to inhabit the movement? How do you each make it your own?” He gestured between you. “As you know, after these moments, you will encounter each other on stage for the first time. Think about what that would feel like, as you watch each other today.”

You nodded again, frowning a little as you tried to work out what he wanted from you. To watch, to observe? To notice something new? To watch as if you’d never seen before? You supposed you could only watch and try and see what you found. 

“Let us begin.”

He started with you. It was only a few counts of 8, a few moments following the wandering path of the violin in the music. What he gave you was very bare bones — you knew, from working with him in the past, that he sometimes wanted you to find your own way to connect things together. Kuiil always wanted his dancers to put themselves into his choreography.

You realized, after he had shown you everything he wanted to, that you hadn’t even looked or spared a thought for Din as you focused on the steps and the music. You were feeling better, more confident, focusing on choreography that played to your own strengths as a dancer.

“Good. Now, give it a try with the music a couple of times, and then I will show Din how he will begin. Do not be afraid to try different things as you let the movements settle.”

You nodded and took up the first position he’d shown you, arms extended a bit behind you. He started the music and you moved, finding your way through the moments Kuiil wanted in this brief part of the first movement. You let yourself sink into the music and the choreography, trying to feel it more than think about it. You whipped through turns and flicked your leg, almost smiling when your développé was timed perfectly to the music. There were moments that felt more awkward, moments you knew you’d need to work on, but overall you felt the weight in your chest lighten as you danced. You can do this.

Kuiil stopped the music just after you found the final position, and you sucked in a deep breath as you relaxed out of it and turned to look at him. 

“Very well done, my dear. I can see the shape of it forming. One more time, and then we will switch. Try to smooth out that transition into the turn.” You nodded, but your curiosity got the better of you and you darted a glance to Din.

He was watching you intently, which you supposed was only following Kuiil’s directions. But for once his face wasn’t expressionless.

Din was smiling. It was a small thing, barely there, but it took your breath away.

…

Adrian was waiting for you after your rehearsal, and for once you were out the door and down the hall before Din.

“So?” He raised his eyebrows at you as he tucked his arm through yours, leading you down the hall to your rehearsal for the February mixed program. You were both in the same piece, for once, a collaboration between Jee and Vince. “How did it go?”

You told him all about it, about the way Kuiil had split the time between you. “Maybe he realized we need to get used to each other first? But we didn’t really do a lot of that, we didn’t even talk to each other much.”

“But you look like you feel better about it.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I got to do what I’m good at.”

“Hmm.” Adrian looked thoughtful. “I think that makes sense, though. Letting you learn about each other’s style.”

You shrugged. “Well, maybe. I guess we’ll see next time. But Adrian… he smiled at me.”

“Who, Kuiil?”

“No,” you almost whispered, glancing around the hall. “Din.”

Adrian’s jaw dropped as you led him through the door for your second rehearsal. “What,” he hissed, but there wasn’t time for him to ask you for more details. You put it out of your mind. You had to focus on the dance in front of you, anyway.

You took that motivation forward through your weekend and the next week of rehearsals. You had so many performances coming up — the February mixed program, Midsummer, and then after that, Swan Lake. And another mixed program in April. And Cinderella. You usually didn’t let yourself think that far ahead — you had so many rehearsals, and so much physical therapy, that you tried to focus on the next performance and maybe the one after. The ones that were right in front of you.

But it was a helpful distraction, for once, thinking through the rest of your season. 

You knew Din had joined the Balanchine ballet for the February mixed program, and you knew those rehearsals were heating up. So you barely saw him outside of morning classes, and you’d been trying not to watch him as much. You wondered, a bit, if you should try to talk to him again, but you weren’t sure what you’d say. Hey, let’s get to know each other so we can actually dance together? 

That one smile aside, he was still so closed off you weren’t sure how to bring yourself to try.

…

The Thursday of your third rehearsal with Kuiil arrived, and you moved quickly down the hallway, almost running — your rehearsal for Midsummer had gone long and you didn’t want to be late.

You turned the corner, moving quickly, and let out an “oomph” as you almost slammed into someone. You felt strong hands come up to steady you and once again blinked up to find Din looking down at you. His large hands were warm where they rested on your waist. 

“Shit,” you cursed. “Din, sorry, I was —” you took a deep breath. “Sorry. I was running late. Obviously.” 

His face was, of course, expressionless once more, but you could have sworn you saw the tiniest lift in the corner of his mouth as he looked at you. “It’s ok. I’m late, too.”

You smiled at him, hesitant, hoping to find that bit of ease you’d briefly had together before your rehearsals started. “Balanchine?”

He nodded. “Balanchine.”

You stepped back a bit and ignored the way it felt when his hands slid from your waist and brushed over your hips before falling by his sides. “How’s it going?”

Din fell into step beside you as you started to walk towards the small rehearsal studio where Kuiil would be waiting for you. “Good. They hadn’t rehearsed much when I started, so it was easier to step in and join one of the pairs.”

“Who have they paired you with?” Symphony in C featured four principal couples, and many of them had danced together for years at this point.

He nodded, seeming to understand your question. “Yuna. They hadn’t finalized that pairing yet, so it was easy to step in. And we didn’t do a ton of Balanchine at CBC, but I’ve danced the first before.”

That made sense. Yuna had just made principal this year, and had yet to form a strong connection with any of the others. You couldn’t imagine them breaking up the pairing of Mira and Diego, for example, or giving Din the adagio in the second movement, when he barely knew anyone yet. And that role, the pair featured in the first movement, was tough. It was perfect for him.

“Yuna’s great. She’s so good at partnering, too.” You could almost see Talia’s vision for them, in your mind — she and Din would dance beautifully together.

You’d arrived at your studio, but before you could step inside, Din said, “she said the same thing about you.”

You froze as Din moved past you into the studio. He had talked about you? With someone else? You stepped inside, in a bit of a daze, as you tried not to wonder what they’d talked about.

Later, during rehearsal, you clung to that positive moment in your mind, because it felt like the first rehearsal all over again. Kuill had you both run through the sections he’d shown you the week before and then returned to the moment you met on stage for the first time. But you could tell from the start that it hadn’t gotten better.

Somehow, it had gotten worse.

You’d lost count of how many times you’d tried it so far, but you took a deep breath as the music started. You started your pass across the floor, leaping into an attitude before rolling out of it. You were supposed to stand and find Din in front of you, except he wasn’t where you expected him to be, so it didn’t quite work. And then the moment passed. 

No matter how hard you tried, you and Din couldn’t seem to find each other at all, throughout the rehearsal. You had no idea why you couldn’t seem to connect with him. Were you feeling the music differently? He felt so distant from you, even standing only a few feet away. Your movements felt separate, like you were on two separate stages, rather than sharing one space together. 

You could feel the frustration begin to build from the base of your spine. You didn’t understand how you could have such an easy conversation with him in the hall and then hit this wall inside the studio, where it should have been easier to connect with him. It had never been this difficult for you to get to know another dancer before.

“Alright.” Kuiil stopped the music and you tried not to read into his tone. “That is enough for today. I know you have the mixed program this weekend. Focus on that, clear your minds, and next week we begin again.”

As you started to leave, feeling defeated, Kuiil called you back. You turned and saw Din hurry out the door in the mirror. You caught a glimpse of his expression as he did and realized he was frowning. Your own mouth turned down in response. 

“My dear, I can see that you are frustrated.” You nodded. As he’d said before, your body couldn’t lie. “I want you to think about something before our next practice. How did you learn to connect with other dancers on stage?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Through movement, I suppose. And interpreting the choreography together.”

Kuiil nodded. “How is it different, when you are performing different styles?”

You blinked. You suddenly understood where he was leading you. “In classical pieces, it’s more pre-defined. It’s constrained. The connection, I mean. And how we are able to express it.”

He nodded again. “Think about that, as you rehearse this week. And we will try again.”

…

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a/n: so 👀 how do you think the next one will go 👀🩰

Solor - this is a very difficult, technical role in a famous classical ballet, La Bayadère! Here’s a really long video of an almost complete performance by Sergei Polunin. The exact number of variations/solos that Solor has can vary by production but there could be as many as three, one per act, and I decided to make Din do all of them. Here’s one, two (and another one, and another, and another), and three with the double assembles. You may have noticed that the second variation can have a lot of different jumps in it – I stole the idea for the double saut de basque and revoltades (and another) from a couple places. I know I saw someone doing the double saut de basque in attitude where most of these men are doing a double saut de basque en dedans (both are in that video) but now I can’t find it.

Symphony in C - a very NYC Ballet piece choreographed by George Balanchine. It’s basically 100% focused on technique and it’s hard!! There are four principal couples featured in four movements. Din joins the first couple. Reader also mentioned the third. This is the sort of performance CBC would have been less likely to do, but it’s so technical and classical they would have added it to their repertoire to broaden it without moving from their classical stance. Here’s a recording of the whole thing from 1973.

Classical ballet - I’ve mentioned this before, but now I’ll say that not everyone would interpret classical ballet the same way. Din’s previous company was on the more strict end of the spectrum. We’ll learn more soon!

I know I've mentioned attitude before, but this time we also see a développé!

tag list coming in a reblog!

[polydamnory]

⚠️Something's Wrong Spoilers⚠️

"They don't need to accept you-" YAH, I DON'T THINK THEY AGREE, JAMIE! Asset baby you deserve so much better than what the world keeps throwing at you.

Anyways, some take aways!

"The worst of us" is an accurate way to describe Marcus, thank you James

We don't really know what the Asset's sense of self was like before Marcus' code overtook them, but god do they sound like they have very little of it now. A "mockery of personhood" - it sounds like the've just become overwhelmed with self doubt and possibly self hatred (I'm assuming those were their words because it doesn't feel in character of James to essentially put those words in their mouth)

IF THAT'S FUCKING YOU MARCUS I SWEAR TO GOD-

Also what's with that weird music/sounds in the background during the call? Have we heard this before and I'm just not picking up on it?

Wow James is on edge - why does he sound so accusatory towards them? The frustration is palpable. He also sounds weirdly arrogant at times? This feels different than how he normally speaks to them.

The Meridian does NOT like the Asset - really just called them a fake and dropped them like a bag of rocks. Also, this could just be that Erik couldn't get the other VAs in time, but this doesn't sound like Min'Ara or E’Laetum. It's also only one voice and the transcript specifically lists the character talking as "Meridian". So who exactly is this? Does the Meridian have a consciousness outside of the two sovereigns that make it up? Because it also kind of sounds a bit like the Drove (is that the term? for all the other sovereigns trapped in death?)

Odd how James specifically says to have all the Deltas (demons) put back in containment when he said earlier only some of them were there via compulsion. Has some kind of fucked up implications on how the department treats even the demons that work for them of their own volition.

And lastly, as a phone was for some reason heard ringing again, I distinctly heard a whispered voice say "wake up" once again. No theories here on why that keeps getting repeated - the only idea I have is that this one of those classic "but it was all a dream" twists but that's stupid and I refuse to believe that's the explanation for all this.

[whitewolfstracks]

My take on packs (this is probably just as long as the original post, so be warned):

I will start by saying that the beginning of what you wrote was funnily similar to my experience. When I awakened, I automatically assumed I'm a wolf. The feelings of being wild, untamed, and wanting to be free were definitely there. I felt disconnected from humans, wary of them, and uncomfortable in human environments.

It wasn’t before I met an actual wolfdog when something started nagging inside. She was still pretty much wolf, even as low content. Fixated on her human, skittish, couldn't be let off the leash because she'd just run away. I wrote it off as poorly socialised, but it was the first time I saw 'a wolf' in the human environment, and I very much empathised with that.

Then, years and years later, I met another wolf therian. And though we were very much similar in some things, we were very different in others. It took me many years to realise, but she was just more feral. I'm not comfortable with humans, but I learned to live with them, even sometimes enjoy their attention.

I have a dog-like temperament in part. For years, I was the stereotype of dog motif, I loved like a dog loves. But when I started to wake up to who I am after years of repressing my therianthropy, I became wilder again. I am a wolf. More wolf than a dog. I just tried to file off my claws, blunt my fangs. Be domestic. I'm not a good dog, though.

I see myself more like a stray dog, exactly like you describe. Living on the outskirts, surviving off scraps. It was only recently that I realised I'm probably a high-content wolfdog. I see myself as a wolf, but given the opportunity, I would get close to humans. A scavenger. An opportunist. Especially because I didn't have a pack for years. I needed to learn to survive on my own.

The fun thing is that when I was little, I used to play I was a wolfdog. Sure, it was dogs at first, but when I learned about wolves, I started getting more wolfish. At first, it was low-content wolfdog, but ended up being a high-content wolfdog. Never a wolf. Only after I met my pack.

What I experienced with my pack cannot be compared to anything else. I've never felt this kind of connection before, and I never felt it again since. We could genuinely read each others minds. We were so attuned to one another that it was scary.

Because we were teenagers at that time and didn't know how to regulate our emotions, it became overwhelming. It became toxic. But I never stopped searching for the depth of this connection, and yes, that's probably why I was unsuccessful in my relationships.

It was with them that I fully embraced my wolfishness. I wasn't ashamed to be myself, to express myself, because they were the same. We cuddled platonically, we howled together, we sparred playfully... We were from different parts of my country, so when we met, it was usually for a few days, having a sleepover, cooking together, watching wolf movies, going to nature...

We didn't have an alpha at the beginning. We were a family. We called each other 'brother' and 'sister'. The way wolf packs should be, in my opinion. But then the alpha theory reached us, and we thought we should have an alpha, so we chose one.

I was the alpha of our pack because I basically put us together. But I was 16 and wasn't ready for the responsibility, so I stepped down. We voted for the next alpha, and it was a mistake. I won't get too deep into it, but it was basically the beginning of the end.

Fun fact: David Mech is actually from my country xD The point is he observed wolves in captivity. Those wolves weren't related, so they needed to establish a hierarchy. And that relates to my opinion on therian packs.

Yes, I long for a family-like pack. But when you pick up a bunch of strangers on the internet and put them in one discord server, that doesn't make them a family. So, some kind of structure is needed.

I like that the online pack that I'm in currently has an Alpha (as an admin) and a Beta (as a mod). I don't think it would work without them. But I also agree that packs that push the hierarchy are usually toxic and abuse the power. I've joined a couple of packs like that, and needless to say, I left pretty quickly.

I spent about ten years without a pack, and I basically wasn't living at the time. I suppressed the Wolf, I was looking for the feeling of a pack in all the wrong places, which got me with the wrong crowds too many times to count. Left me traumatised and even more wary of humans than before.

After I started therapy and started coming back to myself, started accepting who I was, I reawakened as a therian again. And with it came the longing for the pack. It was there the whole time, I just didn't realise it is a wolf pack I long for. Not a friend group, not a romantic relationship, specifically a wolf pack.

The loneliness without a pack is unbearable. An online pack makes it more bearable, but it doesn't really substitute the feeling of actually interacting irl and I miss that. Even though I'm super grateful for my pack, without it, this would be a thousand times worse.

I think/hope what we're trying to do with this pack is to be like a family, create close bonds, be friends, even though we're essentially stragers. All the while having a necessary structure that makes it a safe space. We vote on things, so every voice matters. But the admins have the last word, because somebody needs to take the responsibility, I don't think it would work without it. Idk if it will work out in the long run, but I hope it will. So, that's just a recent personal experience.

Outside this pack, I do show pack behaviour towards my family, friends, even our cats. Every time I'm outside with a group of friends, I feel very protective of them, try to keep an eye on everyone, make sure everyone is included. It actually got us in trouble before :D I was too aggressive in my protectivness, and in an attempt to protect 'my pack', the situation escalated unnecessarily.

I also create close bonds to 'my humans'. For me, when we're friends, it's like a family. It's forever. So, it breaks my heart every time a friend moves on or we grow apart. I just can't comprehend that. And I have a very close relationship with my cat. She's the only creature I can share pack intimacy with. We sleep cuddled together, show each other love. Her behaviour is closer to mine than dogs.

To close this, I will give my account of an ideal pack. And I just want to say, I don't want to offend anyone, this is just my own dream version:

My ideal pack would be irl. Just wolves (or wolfdogs). Small one. Definitely under ten members, but probably more than four. If there was a hierarchy, it would be a natural one. Like, someone is more of a leader type, so they would make decisions. Someone's more empathetic, so they'd have the 'Beta role'. Everybody's good at something, so everybody has something to offer to the pack. It was like that with my first irl pack, and it worked before we tried to put man-made hierarchies on it.

When our pack members found partners, they didn't want to be parted from them, so we started meeting as a pack together with their mates. And while I understand that they felt close bonds to them as wolves, considered them their mates, I didn't consider them a pack, as they weren't therians. I just accepted them as an extension of our pack members.

So, for me, pack is something sacred just between the members of the pack (who are in my ideal case, wolf therians). It goes beyond romantic relationships. It's something different. It's simply a family. And you don't abandon family. That's why it broke my heart when my old pack chose their mates over the pack. They grew out of it. I couldn't. And I stand by what I believed then.

I thought I needed to grow out of it too. That there was something wrong with me when I felt such a strong connection to them. But looking back, I don't think there was. I just was a therian, and they weren't. So, I still think it's possible. Maybe I'm chasing a fool's dream. But what we had was real. We found each other as though by fate, completely by accident. And being an adult now, I think we would be able to keep the boundaries and the balance.

I don't really think a pack can work just because the members are all wolf therians. You need to click. You choose your pack. You see them, and you're like 'yes, you're my brother now, I would protect you with my life'. That's what it feels like for me. So, that's why it's so hard to find. But I do believe it's possible.

Maybe the one time I had my pack was it. And I won't ever be able to move on from that. So, I learned to just enjoy what I have. But I still have hope...

(Also, I want to add a small note: I understand that not everyone has a good relationship with their family, me neither btw, so when I mention 'You don't abandon family.', I mean in ideal case, a chosen family in this case.)

Dear Wolf Therians...

(Aka, a domestic dog rambles about packs)

Content warnings: none

Word count: 2k

— Day 3 of Sol's Writing Challange

I want to start off this post by saying that I'm pretty confident I'm not a wolf therian. During my awakening, I automatically assumed a potential wolf theriotype (which seems to not be an uncommon experience) I actually tried to think and picture myself as a wolf, just to try out the identity but there was something that didn't feel right and it was sort of difficult to understand why. Maybe it was the large size of a wolf not matching with how I felt my canineness should look like, or maybe it was more of a personality/mental thing.

Either way, I kept trying to work it out in my brain and read the works and experiences of wolf therians. When wolf therians spoke about being a wolf, there was a lot of mention of feeling wild and untamed with an instinctual yearning to be free. They spoke commonly about how disconnected they felt from humans and that they were actually pretty wary of them and felt uncomfortable in humam focused environments, and that's when it clicked and why I was not a full wolf because I felt pretty comfortable with humans and I didn't feel this inner call for the wilds. I was actually pretty chill hanging out and around man-made settlements and cities (which were a wolf therians' worst nightmare, according to a few essays). Basically, I felt pretty domestic.

So then I just assumed I might have been a wolfdog. I went from thinking I could have been a high content wolfdog to a mid content to a low content, but even then, that didn't feel right. I read an article that discussed the differences in wolves and stray dogs that actually really illuminated my perspective on canines as a whole. Wolves were monogamous, primarily carnivorous, and apex predators and functioned under a family hierarchy. The stray dogs in the article were scavengers, eating what they could find on the outskirts of human settlements and didn't have to abide by strict seasons to have pups nor did they feel the need to form packs unless they thought it was necessary. All in all, dogs had a lot more variety in expression and were more loose on the "rules" of being a canine compared to wolves.

Eventually I just realized and came to terms that I was just a domestic German Shepherd (and a proud one at that!) with an emotional and aesthetic attachment to wolves that had no impact on my identity and how I identified no matter how cool I thought wolves and wolf therians were.

So, yeah, I'm pretty confident that I'm not a wolf therian.

But I loved reading about the experiences of wolf therians and what being a wolf meant to them and how they expressed that but I was mostly invested in how their wolfness interacted within themselves and other aspects of themselves. What was the culture of wolf therians? How did they describe wolfhood? What facets of themselves did they relate with other wolf therians?

The writings of wolf therians helped me create a foundation of how I understood caninehood so I could build up my own understanding using their experiences as a framework.

But one of the things I really was interested in is how a wolf therian felt about packs.

A wolf therian I follow (@words-of-wolf) wrote a piece about their experience with wolfhood (and how they felt it was different to the way other wolf therians talked about their wolfness), and it actually inspired this whole tangent about packs in general. One of my favorite quotes from the post was:

"But I will say that all of my deepest, most vivid, and most impactful memories... they're not of the hunt. They're not about territory or conflict or hunger. What I remember most richly is the love I felt for my pack. It's a feeling I can't quite find it in me to explain; sometimes I wonder if the reason I identify as loveless in this life, is simply because no love I've ever felt as a human could compare to what I felt as a wolf."

The feeling I got reading this was profund and sobering. I didn't relate to it on a deep level, but I was enamored by how they described what being in a pack really felt like and how the pack is what defined their wolfness and not so much being perceived or perceiving specific behaviors as violent.

I watched a documentary about a therian pack just recently actually and it carried a similar level of awe within me when I watched how close these therians were with others. They cuddled and played together, exhibited both dominant and submissive behaviors in a playful manner and had sleepovers and bonded with each other over a bonfire and it was nice to watch the way they loved being a pack together.

Wolves in the wild need packs. It's something that is so important to their survival and evolution and identity as a whole. They are social animals. The bond between wolves in a wolf pack is so solid and intertwinied with being a wolf that its pretty much what defines a wolf in pop media (for the most part) The wolf pack structure and culture also has been studied intensely for years. It's been observed and analyzed, hypothesized, and debunked.

What was thought to be the truth of how a wolf pack worked was actually revealed to be an inaccurate representation by the same man who created the now debunked alpha/beta/omega theory since the old study was done on captive wolves. Said man, named David Mech, corrected himself and said that wolf packs in the wild functioned very much as family units, with the father and mother at the head of the pack and then their first litter as their subordinates and their latest litter as the bottom of the pack. Makes sense. That's how families work mostly in human society.

But then what does this study say about wolf therians (and therians in general) and the way they feel about packs?

When reading about their experiences, some share this sentiment of feeling utterly alone. This loneliness was, for the most part, super intense, almost depressing sometimes when I read certain posts. Especially when the wolf therians I was reading about didn't seem to know any other therian in general, let alone a wolf one plus they had an almost instinctual aversion to humans. It was something I sympathized with. These were essays that read like lonely howls calling for non-existent pack mates in my head.

But those were specifically wolf therians who didn't have a pack, I did also read posts and essays of wolf therians who were and have been in packs (in their current lives) before, relaying their experiences that ranged from enjoyment and curiosity to horror and abuse mostly, from what I've read, due to these packs adopting the alpha/beta/omega model and trying to mimic this with other therians. Now there has been tons of discussion on how the alpha/omega model in packs leads often to power abuse and there has been valid criticism against the use of it in therian packs but there's also been equal amounts of therians who actually like the alpha system implemented in their own packs due to the euphoria it gives them as a wolf.

Keep in mind, the study that first introduced the alpha theory about wolf packs, while inaccurate to wolves in the wild, was still something captive wolves (essentially strangers) exhibited and I think that's important to note. I remember reading (or maybe watched a video) that mentioned how human society naturally has a hierarchical structure bringing up examples like work environments (bosses, managers, employers) and even schools (teachers, principals, students) and so packs that use the alpha model weren't necessarily a bad thing and actually made sense under these contexts.

I think the problem was because some of these therian packs were created haphazardly and were open to therians who were mostly strangers to each other and the alpha model didn't really give the neccesery room for these packs to bond with each other that much, something that had also been pointed out by other therians. Their solution was to be more picky on who you make a pack with. They said that packs should ideally be created with close friends and loved ones or even family.

It was interesting to read the different pack experiences, especially from a domestic dog point of view. Just as a canine, I also do sympathize with pack culture in general and while some domestic dogs don't really have a connection to the pack concept as much as wolves (save for specific breeds like the husky), I still think a lot about packs and how I'd function in one when I realized that I have been apart of packs, that I am currently in two packs; one with my boyfriend and one with my blood family.

And I do actually see them as my packmates, especially my boyfriend. I feel a loyalty to him and my family, I feel the need to defend them, protect them, and support them, not from a human perspective but entirely as a canine. My family pack can be dysfunctional sometimes, but my dogged loyalty means I'll always be there to support them despite the dominance problems. And it's funny to think about how I was "technically" born into a family unit and then when I grew older, I dispersed and found a mate to make my own pack with just like wolves do in the wild.

Therian packs, I feel like, have been a staple in the therian community probably since the first howl (not fact checked) due to how much the community traditionally has had such a heavy canine/wolf lean and focus (which is something modern therianthropy is improving on by being more inclusive to a variety of species) but I wish there were more resources that talk about packs and pack safety and what others thought of them, what their dream pack is and if they would abide by a heirachy or if they'd go off vibes or if they wanted a big pack that was friendly or something smaller thats a little more exclusive. What type of beings would they want in the pack? What type of behaviors would they exhibit in a pack? What name would your pack have? Would you consider your family or friends as a pack even if they're not therians themselves?

I wish even more for resources and essays about packs that aren't just canine centered like herds and flocks. How would therians run one? Would they be a leader or something more passive?

I know that this sort of veers on the edges of roleplay just a little but it geniuenly is a fun mental exercise for me. I like thinking about these questions because it does make me feel like a canine.

For me, I'm already pretty much living with my ideal pack with my boyfriend, even if it's just the two of us (plus our cats), which is what I prefer. I like how small and exclusive it is, and there's not really problems with dominance, considering we feel both pretty equal in terms of power in our pack. There's no name yet. It's just pure vibes right now, but that's okay, i feel loved and protected in this pack, and I love and protect my pack back. I have so much time to consider what a pack means to me as a dog.

And while I may not feel this deep connection to pack culture the way a wolf therian would, I still hold a similar essence of loyalty and love towards those who I cherish as a canine.

My fascination with pack society and culture is probably something I got from my German Shepherd theriotype. The concept of loyalty, protection, love, and family definitely appeals to it. Regardless, I just love reading and learning about it from academic studies to introspective essays, really, just all kinds of records that talk about packs. It truly feels like I'm searching for a meaning here and even writing this entire post barely scrapes the surface of what I truly want to say about packs, mostly due to me getting tired and my lack of vocabulary and ability to explain things better.

Just think packs are cool and see wolf therians as cool older siblings.

Kind regards,

Sol, a German Shepherd.

@/words-of-wolfs post about wolfhood

The study of the differences between wolves and dogs

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

Plots please, for Nora & Reed?(Or Mercy, or Delta if you want to include them too?)

[meme]

I'm unsure if Mercy ever returns to Vegas or would even want to, but in one of Nora's endings, she winds up living there for the rest of her life. I can imagine Mercy helping her and Shaun get there safely and introducing her around. Traveling across the majority of the country together would be quite the adventure.

Railroad shenanigans and missions where everything goes sideways are a favorite of mine for Nora and Reed. Hell, forget anything faction specific--I like the idea of them just working together out in the Commonwealth in general. I think the banter would be incredible. And both snipers, too--they'd mesh well as a team.

On that note, while I'm thinking of a joint Reed and Nora plot as a whole AU, I wonder how they meet. Do they wake up at the same time and start traveling together immediately? Does one of them wake up later? How would they meet up in that case? As part of the Railroad or Brotherhood? As Nick's friends? Would they have a relationship pre-War, since they lived in the same neighborhood? The possibilities are endless and I would love to write something for this now.

[travelling-hydaelyn]

Lahabrea possessed Thancred before this questline even started which means these are back to back Laha interactions. Here is how he greets the WoL in the Waking Sands immediately after his Disney villain introduction.

Meanwhile in Minfilia's solar:

presumably he took a brief break from running Alphinaud's errands to go dramatically laugh at the WoL

[heniareth]

It's interesting to note how the Tabris Origin, which involves a wedding, kidnapping and attempted sexual harassment, and fighting your way through an estate full of guards, is the Origin where gender plays a huge role in what story you experience. M!Tabris will always storm the castle coming to the rescue of his cousin and his betrothed, while F!Tabris will always have to fight her way out because the men in her life can't fully protect her (Nelaros dies, Soris literally hands her the sword, Cyrion is powerless to stop the abduction. Okay, this may be a little unfair to Soris who does fight side by side with Tabris and counsels caution the same way regardless of Tabris's gender). I'd go so far as to say that Tabris is the only Origin where the gender of your PC has a definite impact on the story.

TLDR to the rant in the tags: Tabris is constrained on all sides by being an elf, by their gender, in part by their family, and by society at large (both the Alienage and the wider city).

[dammit-tazmuir]

A summary for you! (Will definitely cover a lot you know, of course, but reminders better than assuming and missing things, right?)

---------

In the epilogue of Harrow the Ninth, we follow a girl living in a city very different than any we've seen in the series. It talks about "the person who went to work for her, the person who taught her, and the person who cared for her." At the end, she asks the person who cares for her, "Do you know who I am?" And Camilla Hect answers, "Not yet."

---------

So going into NtN:

Characters and Setup

The setting is a city called New Rho, on a planet outside the Houses, though still under the emperor's command. The people here have already been relocated, some of them multiple times, due to resurrection beast threats. Blood of Eden has a lot of activity here, but even the normal citizens abhor necromancers / "zombies."

The person who goes to work for her is Pyrrha. The person who cares for her is Camilla. And the person who teaches her is Palamades, now sharing Camilla's body. It's a tenuous and dangerous arrangement. Being there at all is killing her slowly, and fronting too long or using necromancy takes a much bigger toll as his soul starts trying to consume hers. If he doesn't front at all, her body will also try to expel his soul. They're determined to make it work and communicate via recordings, written notes, and relaying messages through Pyrrha and Nona.

Nona and Pyrrha were both pulled out of the River by Blood of Eden at the end of HtN (Harrow's Bullshit Dead Girlfriend talking in "the wrong voice twice removed" about chest compressions and such). Camilla had already been picked up by Blood of Eden. (No one except Pyrrha, Cam, and Nona know Palamades is also among them for a long time.)

No one knows who Nona is, least of all Nona herself, but she's in Harrowhark's body and woke up with no memory of anything, even speech or motor skills. Every night, Nona dreams about a scene of Harrow and Gideon in salt water, and every morning Camilla makes her recite as much as she can remember looking for new clues. Everyone wonders if she could be Harrow OR Gideon with memory loss, or Harrow AND Gideon as a full gestalt fusion (a new person, like Paul later is), or if it's someone else in Harrow's body and if so who and how.

There's a lot weird about Nona. Her healing factor is overwhelmingly beyond even lyctor capabilities, closer to John's. She can understand and speak any language when she's present for it, "by making her mouth move like theirs", but has trouble interpreting if she can't see the person. She can't read or write and her brain is madly resistant to learning. She can identify people and intentions by how people move. She's barely capable of lying. She hates the sword and the bones that Cam and Pal try to get her to practice with. (They won't tell her why, as they don't want to lead her.)

Their group works with BoE's "Ctesiphon Wing", under Commander We Suffer, as "Troia Cell". Some other cells in the same wing and "Merv Wing" are more antagonistic to them. Another notable BoE member is Our Lady of the Passion / Pash / "two thigh machetes" sometimes by Nona. (She's later revealed to be Commander Wake's niece, which makes her Gideon's cousin.)

Regardless of who's in the body, BoE sees a potential weapon in Nona and wants Camilla and Pyrrha to try to unlock Nona's necromancy beyond just the healing to give them their own lyctor power to use against John. Most ideally they want to open the Locked Tomb but they'll take what they can get. She's "The Lyctor Project".

Judith and Coronabeth had been traveling with Camilla in HtN too, the survivors of Canaan House. Corona has become a full member of Blood of Eden and changed her name to Crown Him With Many Crowns Thy Full Gallant Legions He Found It In Him To Forgive, aka Crown. She likes Nona and fully believes the gestalt theory, envying the idea (wishing she and Ianthe could have achieved that). Judith is doing much worse, because-

Number Seven, aka Varun the Eater, the resurrection beast they fought at the end of HtN that killed G1deon, is approaching. It's not to the planet yet, but "parascoping", projecting ahead of its path and watching from the sky as the rest of it catches up. It's a matter of time until it arrives and devours the planet. Its blue light infects necromancers with "blue madness", driving them mad. (Nona, mysteriously, is not only immune, but finds Varun soothing.) Most necromancers have evacuated the area. Judith is being held underground at a BoE facility, strapped to a bed, in and out of coherence.

Also, the Sixth House seceded from the Empire. Like it was built in a facility that could be mobile and just straight up moved. This was done after word from Cam and Pal (they do also know Pal's there) and orders a while before her death from Sixth House lyctor Cassiopeia. 16 members of the leadership/nobility/whatever were captured by BoE and are being held somewhere in New Rho as extra leverage against Camilla (and Pal).

(Almost done with characters and setup I swear.)

Nona works at a school during the day as a teacher's aide. The Nice Lady Teacher, Jolie, is just a very normal woman in over her head and doing her best. The main kids at the school are a "gang" led by 14-year-old Hot Sauce, and extremely traumatized and serious girl with burn scars. Her "right hand man" Honesty is 12 and a mini criminal. Born in the Morning and Beautiful Ruby are probably 12-ish give or take. And their youngest member is 7-year-old Kevin. (Hot Sauce is just a nickname because she likes it. Kevin is probably a House name, as that's Nona's first language. At minimum Born in the Morning and plausibly the other two are implied to be Nona's auto-translation thing messing with how she hears it.)

The kids know what a resurrection beast is btw. Kevin knows Varun the Eater by name. The Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus with all her resources and studies did not know what an RB was until becoming a lyctor. This immediately says so much about the state of life outside the Emperor's super special Houses.

The other teacher, called "The Angel" by the kids, is named Aim and is also called "The Messenger" by Blood of Eden, who they're later revealed to be part of. Aim has she/they pronouns and not (just?) in a gender way. Upon hearing Hot Sauce say "we love her", Aim's driver (who doesn't like Aim taking risks by working somewhere) scoffs, "Oh, I get it. A chance to be 'her', huh?" To which Aim replies, "It is my enormous privilege to be 'they.'" Later, Aim talks about themselves using "we", "we are the message." It is not yet revealed what the message is, but a few factors imply it may have something to do with genetic coding they're carrying. (It was also passed down from their predecessor MSN and I'm.... Tamsyn plz...) Also Aim has a six-legged dog named Noodle who is a certified good boy.

---------

Plot - Present Day

Beginning to Broadcast

The book starts pretty slow. Nona is going about her life and we see through daily activities and flashbacks to earlier in the past six months what life has been like her in New Rho. Everything sucks, but Nona is happy. She's only had two tantrums in her whole life, and she's very proud of that, even if that whole life is only about six months. Nona loves swimming in the ocean, and even going to the beach after she stops being allowed to swim helps keep her calm.

One notable early event is Honesty getting a job, and coming to school the next day with a black eye. For a moment it sounds embarrassing and silly when he admits he walked into something, but when he explains, we learn his group had been trying to rob "the convoy"-- a bunch of BoE mega-trucks that drive around underground tunnels-- and saw into a truck filled with people with glowing white eyes who all turned to look at the same time. He was running like hell.

The first time we see Nona's household called in to talk to We Suffer, they head down to visit Judith in the basement. When they walk in, she thrashes and shouts cryptically, stuff about "Green Thing" and "what have they done to you?!" When she calms down a little more, she's still frantic and struggling, but more herself. Toward the end, she once again shouts and thrashes and calls out to the Green Thing.

When the group leaves, Nona asks what the captain was talking about at the beginning and end, and Crown and Camilla stare, deeply unsettled. "Nona...? The captain didn't say anything when we entered. She only screamed." Those moments were Varun speaking through her, and on several other occasions throughout the book, it possesses Judith again to talk to Nona.

Later, there's a Broadcast in the city, projected in a public square. Hot Sauce takes Nona with her as they sneak away from school to watch it. A person whose description matches a very dead Naberius Tern delivers a message from the emperor. It is in fact Ianthe-- now going by Tower Prince Ianthe Naberius, the Saint of Awe-- piloting Naberius's preserved corpse remotely to avoid the effects of Blue Madness. The empire wants the Sixth House and any surviving members of the Cohort returned, and all BoE agents to cease activity and disperse. It's framed like "because God is so merciful, this is all you have to do" when in practice it's more "if one person fails to comply with these demands we'll use violent force."

Ianthe introduces on camera the other Tower Prince, Kiriona Gaia, the Emperor's only heir, and Nona recognizes her as the girl from her dream, aka Gideon. She looks super mega dead.

That night, Aim's driver gives Nona a ride home, because neither Cam nor Pyrrha came to get her. Cam is waiting at home and incredibly relieved to see her, only to realize Pyrrha isn't with her. As far as Cam knew, Pyrrha was going to pick Nona up at the usual time. The next day is somber and rough as they worry about where she could be.

---------

Day After Broadcast

Cam takes Nona to school, but as a final day to say goodbye, with as tense as things have gotten. A lot of other kids have been pulled out already, and others are having their own last day. Hot Sauce has all the gang swear an oath that even if they're torn apart, they'll always be a gang and always have each others' backs. Eventually, everyone except Aim, Camilla, Nona, and Hot Sauce go home.

While looking through drawings the kids had done the day before, Aim had stopped cold at one. After sending Hot Sauce to shut down the generator to get her out of the room, Aim asks Nona about her drawing. The way Nona describes it matches an elephant, but it's not named and Aim says this is a long, long extinct animal they only know about because of their very specialized studies on their old planet.

At some point while talking to Aim, they figure out "Camilla" is a necromancer, and because "she" has been functioning in spite of Varun's light, they assume she's a lyctor. They subtly sent out a call to BoE. As Pal tries to talk Aim down, a bullet comes through the window, right through Nona's head. She heals from it. Cam/Pal were also shot at but Pal was able to stop the bullet.

Pash is there now, revealed to be a personal bodyguard to Aim. She's freaking out about the shit show, because as much as Pash hates it, that's the fucking Lyctor Project they just called a hit on. Aim's been kept so out of the loop they didn't know. But now Merv Wing is outside and they don't want to back down; they're the wing that burns anyone who might be a zombie in public executions. Aim feels very bad about all this, especially since Nona is just indignant in her usual way after being shot, still very much herself.

As Merv Wing storms in, Nona runs to find Hot Sauce, who Pash locked in the generator room now. Aim tried to warn her but didn't really get it through clear, Hot Sauce saw Nona get shot. She's extremely distressed and confused. How could she make that up?? When the coast is clear and they get out, Hot Sauce sees the blood on the floor along with brain matter and the blood in Nona's hair and realizes she didn't make it up. "You're out of the gang," and she shoots Nona in the head again.

This time, when Nona wakes up, she's zip tied down to a chair. Reaching a breaking point, she throws her third ever "tantrum," aka goes absolutely fucking batshit feral with necromantic power. She rips her body apart and just regrows whatever she needs to discard to escape and goes on a rampage. Finally, enough people get close enough to get her restrained and subdued, as she's still physically frail. She hears her own voice yell, "You're killing her, fool!" Some part of her knows she's talking to herself.

---------

Infiltration to Finding Gideon

The next morning, Nona wakes again in BoE headquarters, with Pal there. There's a lot of talking and Pal reveals himself to several more people. We Suffer lets them listen to a radio signal as Crown, wearing a bug, goes to the docked ship where Ianthe (still in Naberius) is stationed, begging for sanctuary and to see Ianthe. She's also brought Judith, which BoE did not authorize, begging for help to save her. Ianthe is repulsed by the Judith part, but begrudgingly lets her bring her aboard. With enough pushing, practically anything for Corona, after all.

Also "the Saint of Duty" is there. Ianthe thinks "he's" been weird but hasn't clocked that it's a whole other person. While Ianthe easily catches the bug Corona's wearing and mocks Blood of Eden before destroying it, Pyrrha uses the code words she's trained with Camilla and Nona to let them know there's another hidden bug they can tap into, and they're able to do so.

Ultimately, they're able to use Ianthe's demand to "surrender Camilla Hect and Harrowhark Nonagesimus" to their advantage. With a haircut and some coaching, Nona pretends to be Harrow and Cam pretends to be only herself. Some temporary dye/film is applied to Nona's eyes to make her look blind, and she's instructed to only answer minimal questions and fake fits of Blue Madness like the captain if asked tough questions. The one time she does this, she can't think of what to scream to 'act like the captain' and in her mind just yelps, "Help! Help! Help!" To everyone else, she actually goes trance-like for a moment and has unleashed another horror scream like her tantrums that genuinely fucked shit up.

While talking to Ianthe, Camilla brings up that the Third House once challenged the Sixth to a duel back at Canaan House. Sixth had right of reply but it never happened, so she accepts now. If she wins, she gets to go free, and if not, she dies. Ianthe rightfully points out that's really really really stupid, but Corona threatens to kill herself if Ianthe has become too much of a monster to grant someone even this little bit of dignity. Ianthe is exasperated, but after enough pushing isn't willing to take chances, and even offers Camilla a slightly achievable win condition with just managing to snatch a handkerchief.

Eventually, Ianthe stabs Camilla, seeming to have one, but Cam's voice says satisfied, "Match to the Sixth." It was always a farce to help Palamades invade Naberius's body. A few seconds to everyone else was much longer for him and Ianthe doing battle in a mental space, but he wins, not only taking control of the body but keeping Ianthe's soul trapped and suppressed for a little while, unable to just return to normal.

Nona, Pyrrha, Camilla, Palamades-in-Naberius, and Crown all search for Gideon. They're hoping if Nona IS Gideon, or part-Gideon, her soul will magnetize to the body, but nothing happens on that front.

Nona finds her first and feels an inexplicable urge to kiss her, and does so. She sees Gideon's eyes open, but when the others catch up, Gideon still looks super dead, eyes closed. They drag her body, debating if it's real or some kind of clone. John's effect on it make it impossible for Palamades to read with psychometry. Whatever the case, they agree they should take the body to the Tomb. Pal still wants to take a blood sample; it probably won't be viable outside the body, but the preservation on her is wild, and however the blood reacts will tell them something interesting.

But as he goes to draw a sample from her thigh, she snatches his hand. "Sexpal! If that's how you get a woman's pants off, it's no wonder I stole your girl!" She's back and worse than ever (I love her). She reveals she was awake the whole time (Nona is indignant, she told everyone!!) and just playing possum letting them drag her around. Not playing dead though, she is super mega dead. John's made a self-piloting revenant out of her. Also the wounds from her death in the first book are still very present, preserved open, which characters question but don't get a real answer about. (Also, she reveals John made her invulnerable. The needle never could have pierced her she just didn't like the idea of it and broke character lmao.)

Despite a wild new level of no fucks to give and questionable motives, Gideon goes with them.

---------

Loose Ends & Reconciliation to Reaching Drearburh

As payment for all this, We Suffer tries to track down the Sixth House, and upon the reveal they're being moved around constantly in a truck, Nona realizes that's what Honesty saw during his job. They're in the Convoy, and she can ask him where the truck was the other day to figure out where it'd be in its path now.

When taken to talk to him, he barely cracks the door. She realizes he's talked to Hot Sauce and knows she's a Zombie, and she's very upset and apologetic, but is glad he's taking that seriously. She'd think less of him if he stopped listening to Hot Sauce. She's still so Nona, so pure and full of love and fury and running on a single brain cell. She says she's gotta go away and tells him where some of her things she wants to leave him are, including the rag she uses at school, because it might have enough chemicals left on it he could sell it to get someone high. And he slams the door, and Hot Sauce opens it, and Honesty is raving that he can't stay mad at a girl like that, who would think of his business! Hot Sauce can't either, though. Nona and Hot Sauce have a sweet moment, the love between all these kids ultimately pure and unconditional and more powerful than their feelings about any factions.

Nona gets the information and delivers it, and the Sixth House leadership are recovered and helped. But also, Varun has gotten close enough that heralds are descending. Everyone has to fight through some, and Nona ends up talking to Varun (through Judith) atop one of the megatrucks. "You said you wouldn't do anything weird!" She begs and begs Varun to withdraw, and ultimately, though it doesn't get rid of what heralds already came down, Varun agrees and does so. When Judith comes back to her senses, she asks in confusion, "Harrowhark...?" And for the first time, Nona, who's on some level known but not wanted to, admits, "No, and I never was."

So now it's a matter of getting to the Ninth House. Preferably fast.

Palamades is confident they can pilot a megatruck through the River. Pyrrha tells him he's not a bloody lyctor and that would be difficult if he was. He's not worried. He and Camilla gather some of their closest friends and family, and have a very deep and heartfelt last talk as themselves. He performs a ritual, and Camilla catches on fire, and when the fire dies down, their eyes are originally-Pal's clear gray irises, with inhuman pupils of originally-Cam's slate gray-brown. They are an advanced form of lyctor, a form where nothing is taken and everything is given, becoming a new person. They name themself Paul.

Nona has begun having "top and bottom" thoughts, her memories trying to surface as she desperately clings to the "middle" thoughts, like someone who can't remember what a thing they hated hearing said, but can hear it approaching and is plugging their ears going LA LA LA LA to block out the details. She'd rather die as herself, this her, and she's afraid to remember, certain she'll forget her life now. She doesn't want to forget loving Palamades or Camilla or Pyrrha or Hot Sauce. Paul tells her they loved her, and she loved them. "It's done. You can't take loved away."

A bunch of people board the megatruck, including Aim, who explains a little of their importance, and Pash, who regrettably goes where Aim goes. Paul is able to take them into the river, and they drive along its surface....

...but it's Wrong. It's not ghostly in the way it should be, and in the distance, an immense distinctly-stone tower juts out and runs seemingly all the way down. Gideon is just "yup" about it. This tower scares those top and bottom thoughts, and we don't get an explanation about it.

At several points since getting shot, Nona has run more on instinct or had her old self seep through. Once she went off on Pyrrha, asking if she had fun playing pretend like this. Pyrrha has also figured out who she is, but Nona made her stop when she started to say it. Harrow's body is incredibly dying at this point, but in the truck, Nona again drags it based on something she just feels drawn to do, taking the wheel from Paul. As she pushes on and on, she starts to wonder if maybe everyone dying together would be nicer; she's known she's dying for ages and has been relieved about it, so why would it be so bad for everyone? Paul reminds her Noodle is in the truck and letting a dog get hurt is too far for Nona. (She's so real.) She books it and makes it to the Ninth House.

---------

The Ninth House & The Locked Tomb

It's bad here. A bunch of folks stay back but those who press forward encounter??? What the fuck ARE those? "Devils" apparently, or corpses who have been possessed by Devils. Gideon says they've been fighting a lot of them on another planet, Antioch, for months, but John said they couldn't travel elsewhere so what the fuck. They also realize this is what possessed Colum back at Canaan House.

True to at least this word, John did send newly awakened folks to help replenish the Ninth House numbers, but a lot of them have been killed. They encounter Crux, who mistakes Nona for Harrow and her admittance she's not for just having one of her episodes. He goes along with the group and they find Aiglamene with a bunch of the survivors barricaded up. It's explained they need to get Harrow's body into the tomb, and everyone helps.

Ianthe shows up, and after a bit of weirdly casual banter with Gideon that does not at all sound like they're enemies, Nona is appalled to realize they're wearing friendship bracelets. Anyway, Gideon still wants the Tomb open, and Ianthe is very confused. Ianthe insists that'd be really bad for John, daddy has been a useless wreck lately and Ianthe's got to do everything around here. Gideon insists John sent her and she's supposed to kill whatever's inside?? And then she'll become his new cavalier?? Ianthe tells Gideon she's delusional. "He loves her, you idiot! John. loves. Alecto! He needs ALECTO."

And upon hearing her real name, Nona's delusion shatters. She starts to unravel, literally, physically, Harrow's body no longer able to contain her. They need a thanergy burst to help unlock the tomb, and Crux snaps that he's the obvious choice. His other choices are waiting to die of basically-poison and being possessed or being healed and killed by devils anyway. Aiglamene berates that all anyone in this house ever knew how to do was die for Harrow. They could have lived for her, but they didn't know how.

Gideon volunteers, having fantasized about his death for years. She makes sure to rub it in his face that she's God's kid first, and he basically tells her 'fuck you and fuck God' because his loyalty is to Harrow and his opinion of Gideon isn't remotely changed by this??? Like. Okay dude, horrible but weird respect I guess. Nona/Alecto isn't seeing shit at this point, just overhearing as Paul and Pyrrha try keeping the body remotely together and dragging it toward the door. She hears Gideon after killing Crux, "Fuck... Why didn't that feel good?!" (In sharp contrast to John finding death intoxicating...)

The door is opened, and eventually magnetism takes hold, and Alecto drags the crumbling body to her own, where Harrow's soul has been since the end of HtN, when she found herself inside the tomb and crawled into the coffin to sleep.

---------

Alecto's POV

Alecto wakes up as herself, breaking her body as she rips herself from her chains, just as Nona did with her third tantrum.

She's almost entirely disconnected. The humans are all children, even the oldest among them, and she can barely tell their voices apart. (The audiobook does a few wrong in the second to last scene, and I'm not sure it that's intentionally reflecting this or was just a mistake because it's definitely hard to follow.)

"The black-eyed infant" (Harrow) is still weak as hell but in her own body and holding in one piece again. She throws herself at Alecto's feet, but Alecto recognizes her, from her dreams and from the 9 years her soul has been haunting Harrow, ever since Harrow opened the tomb when she was 10. She "kisses" her, aka bites her mouth, because "this is how meat loves meat", but upon tasting her blood, she realizes she's Anastasia's descendant. Thus, as she once swore to Anastasia, she swears herself now to Harrow, until such time as the bargain has been paid. (This is the first the audience is hearing of this and we don't get explanation.) To which Gideon iconically replies, "Get in line, thou big slut!"

In the final scene, Alecto enters a room where John is sleeping, unconscious Harrow flung over her shoulder, and drives her sword through his heart. But he just wakes up and greets her. "Annabel, good morning."

=========

Plot - In The Dream

John's and Earth's History, Harrow's Connection

In the dreams, a woman and John walk around as John rambles about his backstory. He addresses her as Harrow, but keeps saying "you" in context to the past.

Long story short because the rest is so long, the "you" is planet earth. She was dying, and she saw a man leading a project desperately trying to save her, and she chose him, and she gave him power over life and death. He learned to use it, but more and more budget cuts and bureaucracy and idiots drinking up propaganda led to trillionaires buying their way off-planet and leaving everyone else to rot and earth to die. John was so pissed off by the end he personally triggered nuclear war, but the souls he ate from that weren't enough.

He tried to eat earth's soul too, even physically shoveling dirt in his mouth, but she was simply too big to contain, so he made a new body from dirt and vomit and blood and bone and shaped her into a lifesize Barbie. Whatever he couldn't contain, he stuffed into this form, and their souls were intertwined, becoming one. But it still wasn't enough. He reached and reached and reached and devoured the souls of all the solar system, creating the RBs. With all that power, he was able to remotely grab one of the trillionaire escape ships, could feel them inside and knew they felt him, but then it slipped from his grasp and escaped. (It's possible this led to the creation of BoE? Or was one part of its founding.) He decided punishing those assholes was worth killing everyone including the planet himself, and he didn't even succeed. His takeaway is "That'll teach me to hesitate."

Alecto was horrified by her new form. ("A monster from the moment you resurrected her, and you went and made her worse.") What had he done to her? Where did he put all those souls? But also, "I still love you."

But now, in this dream, Harrow has been experiencing all of this via walking through Alecto's memories the day after everything was killed, before anything but her had been resurrected. (Notably, when he does resurrect them, he fucking changes his friends' names, implied by how Ulysses and Titania were U— and T— on their death certificates but he changed those. Side note, Pyrrha says "Gideon... G—..." at one point, with the dash like that, so it's??? possible she remembers??? But yeah.)

Whatever is happening seems to have some outside connection and awareness of the present, too, perhaps via the part of John that's part of Alecto and vice versa. The conflation of Alecto and Harrow is made more unsettling with John writing in the sand, "J + E", replacing the E with A, then the A with H, before drawing an uneven heart around it...

Like Alecto, Harrow still loves him, loves her God and Teacher. But she tells him, as Reverend Daughter, it is her duty to understand what it truly means to love God for herself. She will find divinity, whether she lies in the Locked Tomb or her search leads her back to him. He asks where she'll look, and she looks off to a tower in the distance in the water, one that shouldn't have been in the memory (likely the tower in the River). She'll start there, and she walks off into the sea.

And that bit was shortly before Alecto and thus Harrow woke up.

---------

I hope this wasn't too long. I know the book is confusing as hell, and frankly I agree it's the weakest of the three despite being really good, but also feel like a lot of that is from how hard it is to follow and that the actual content is really fun. So yeah, genuinely hope this helps!

Nona the Ninth is really good, even if I found it the weakest of the Locked Tomb books, I enjoyed it a lot. Nona is absolutely adorable, I love her so much.

That being said, what in the ever loving fuck happened in that book?

[bluejaybytes]

@snowshinobi Hiiiii :3 I'm responding to your tags on a new post and not the original since the original was already somewhat lengthy, and I plan on being LONG and RAMBLY, but I have sooo many thoughts on what you said and I'm going to say them. Also my browser crashed TWICE (TWO TIMES. 2) when trying to write this post so I'm really fighting for my life out here to get my silly little OC posts done. Also it's under the cut because it's looooong as hell LMAO

Firstly, you're so nice to me forever <3 Secondly, I think you've basically hit the nail on the head. The majority of the issues Maggie has coming back from death and her 9 years gone are really tied almost exclusively to her close family, because she... never really had anyone else. While in-universe it's only 9 years, realistically the jump in technology and culture is around ~20-30 years (Maggie died in the 90s/early 2000s essentially, and wakes up in a just barely futuristic city), but... the most jarring thing to her in terms of what she missed out on is just. Flipphones are no longer popular. Other than her family, she's only close with one other person... who just so happens to be a ghost, and therefore both 1. Wouldn't change much over the timespan due to how long she's been a ghost and 2. Unlike her family, was aware that something happened, since she could see the ghost-of-a-ghost Maggie left behind (The ghosts name is Opal, she positions herself as a sort of "guardian angel" figure, though she's not actually, and serves as just another parental figure for Maggie while also getting after the ghosts that constantly harass her to pass on messages to the living). Maggie has no real relationships outside of her family, and while her relationships with her family are massively impacted by her unknowing death, other than that... the timeskip itself doesn't weigh on her because she had no one regardless. Her struggle to adjust to everything thats happened would've happened regardless of the timeskip for her, because she was such an isolated shut-in that it's the same whether it happened the next day, or nearly a full decade later

So another very interesting thing is that you've actually completely seen where I was going with everything, in spite of everything I said being very surface level and not actually delving into the plot at all. I completely skimmed over Jenna (She's very important to the plot, but she's by in large a regular person as opposed to Maggie's... everything), but for some additional context, Jenna has a horrendously shitty homelife, so her moving in with Maggie is both a gradual process (It goes from spending time there, to spending nights, to eventually just never going back home and moving in fully), and also serves as an escape for her. Part of that is also, so vitally, the food aspect. For some additional additional context, souls essentially serve as a persons lifeforce, practically every bodily function is improved by a soul that's stronger, though the "strength" of a soul is essentially entirely random, and not dependent on the individuals actions of any kind. Maggie had a generally weird soul before (Seeing ghosts inherently means she has to have something going on with her soul), but when she wakes up after her death, her soul is now even weirder, and part of that is that it essentially lets her get away with bad habits she absolutely should be seeing more consequences for. She barely eats, and when she does, it's basically exclusively crackers and whatever other safe foods she has around the house, because actually making food is a level of care and effort she just... doesn't give to herself in the slightest. Part of Jenna staying with her is that Jenna, without really discussing it, entirely takes up the mantle of caretaker of the apartment, with the biggest task being food prep, Jenna sees Maggie's unwillingness to take care of herself and silently steps up and starts making her actual meals so she's eating properly.

The problem is is that this also kinda... just straight up sucks? Jenna doesn't think much of it, it's something that needed to be done so she's doing it, she wants Maggie to be well fed even if she won't do it herself, and she's already been responsible for making all of her own meals for years prior anyways, so it's just another thing she does. Except that's shitty! Maggie's seen firsthand how terrible her homelife is, and it really weighs on her how even in her escape from that, Jenna's still being put in a position where she feels like she must care for her or else she just won't eat properly. So food is such a massively important thing to both of them, it's this symbol of love for both of them, it's love on the part of Jenna, for stepping in and taking care of Maggie when she can't do it herself, and it's love on the part of Maggie, for realizing how her own bad habits impact the people she cares about and wanting to lift that weight by taking care of herself better. It's also very vital for Maggie because she just... doesn't... have hobbies. Learning how to cook becomes really her only hobby and she puts all of her love and care into it, because for the first time in a long while she's actually passionate about something! ...Unfortunately she also is very very bad at it. She's inventing new dishes like "Burnt Salad" and "Please Help I Fucked Up Kraft Mac N Cheese" and still having to have Jenna come in and help her. But it's the thought that counts, and it'll only be a matter of time before she can make something vaguely edible.

And finally, the stuff about names! I didn't post it here, but while idly talking about her in a Discord server I'm in, I definitely think that had I made Maggie like even a few months later than I would've done she would've been nonbinary. As it stands right now though, I'm saying she's probably some form of genderweird but too busy trying not to die to think about it <3 Growing up knowing that ghosts are real and routinely being shut down by authority figures in her life about it has made her very aware of how bullshit a lot of things are and how the people who claim to be knowledgeable tend to not know what they're talking about (Beyond just the "people don't think ghosts are real", she's also got ghosts willing to tell her when people are lying because they've got nothing better to do than just gossip) , so if she spent even just a moment thinking about gender as a social construct she'd instantly recognize that and probably take up some form of genderweird label, but as it stands she's just too stressed with Being The Protagonist to think about that

Now, the thing with Margaret. I'm not even going to lie to you, I think you made a better connection to how a name connects with community in terms of the narrative themes than I did. The thing with Margaret denying the name "Maggie" existed for two reasons, the in-universe explanation is that, with the little scrap of soul Margaret has leftover from Maggie, it's essentially working overtime just to keep her vitals working, it can't dedicate time and energy to making her an individual with preferences and a personality, so part of that is that she doesn't respond to "Maggie" because ultimately, that is not her name. Her name is Margaret and she's not going to respond to "Maggie" because "Maggie" isn't her name. Of course, out of universe the reasoning is that I wanted an easy way to distinguish between Maggie as she is the protagonist, and the version of her that lived in the years she was gone, so different names makes the most sense.

I think your connection to how name relates to community genuinely works on a level I hadn't fully pieced together myself yet and I really love that because I think that absolutely works with everything. One of the main conflicts of the plot is how Maggie is entirely disconnected from her family thanks to the years she was gone, with Margaret having no priorities beyond "survive", she basically never spoke with her parents or brother for years. While her family tried to reach out to her repeatedly (Especially given that, while they're unaware the truth of what happened the night Maggie was murdered, they do know something happened, and they believe that whatever it was severely traumatized her, and that's where the sudden and drastic shift in personality came from), there's a point where they just... gave up. She wasn't trying to talk with them or contact them in the slightest, so around a year or two after Margaret moved out, her parents gave up on her. Her brother would still be there a bit, but he also didn't really... try... anymore.

When Maggie wakes up, she tries to call her parents... and they don't pick up. They'd grown resentful over the years, and now that Maggie wants to talk to them, they don't forgive her for the years of not speaking to them, and aren't interested in whatever she has to say after nearly a decade of trying to reconnect with her and being met with nothing. It's her insistence that she wants to be called Maggie that actually gets her brother to realize she's telling the truth and that something happened. She shows up at his door, already something that Margaret wouldn't have done, and that combined with her being visibly upset when he calls her Margaret and tells him that's not her and that she's Maggie, it signals to him that whatever's going on is real (...though he would've figured this out eventually, given that she also literally 17 again and not in her mid-20s, and has a giant glowing stab wound in her chest). I think it works absolutely perfectly as being a symbol of community, her disconnect from her community is what led to her being called Margaret, and her desperation to be returned to that community is when she's Maggie again. So uh. Congrats on getting the themes of my OCs better than I did <3

And uhhhh closing thoughts! I honestly did still skim over the majority of the plot (Literally never even mentioned Eli or what's going on with her stab wound </3), but I think you reeeeally hit the nail on the head with everything I'm kinda getting at with these OCs, which is... frankly wild given how little main plot I actually got at. Basically everything I mentioned in my original post was the setup, not the main plot. But waaaaugh thank you for being so niceys to me and also giving me another excuse to ramble endlessly <3

[lisbonsteresa]

oh ok 😵‍💫

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna assimilating to you

Synopsis: After discovering that Sukuna has been wide awake every time you nap together, you become embarrassed around him.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It is a scientific fact that when we are around people we love and trust, while in a healthy relationship, the release of oxytocin makes us sleepy.

Sukuna does not need sleep. He is the king of curses, able to continuously use his technique without ever becoming exhausted. When you first suggested that his chambers were "perfect for napping", he had simply raised a brow and considered what that could possibly mean.

You are like a weak creature to him. A kitten or perhaps a rabbit. And since you are never safer than when you are in his presence, you frequently find yourself growing sleepy when you are around him.

Throughout your strange relationship with the king, something that you loved most, is that there never needs to be words exchanged between the two of you. You were both contented to sit in silence. Frequently dozing off together, or so you thought.

You caught on eventually, that he was always awake before you. That his breathing pattern never really changed. That his face never relaxed more than it would if he had simply been sitting with his eyes closed.

One morning, after having stayed the night sleeping, you mumbled to him, "How is it you're always awake before I?"

He rose a brow at you, his upper set of eyes were looking into yours, the lower staring at how you lay across his bed sheets.

"I do not know your meaning." He grumbled out.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You never sleep in longer than I do, one day I would like to wake up before you."

"I never sleep at all." He stated before you had even really finished your sentace.

"What?" Your breathy outburst echoed slightly in his bed chamber, "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

"I do not require such things." He turned his torso now toward you, all four eyes studying your face, you had quickly sprung up, seemingly miffed.

"So... so all this time, you've just been... laying there while I've been sleeping?"

"I suppose I have, I do not see how this matters in the slightest." "It matters because I've been... It's just been a big waste of time for you. Sukuna you should have said something." You're upset, he can tell. Your face is scrunched up, your blood is pounding in your veins. Sukuna, however, does not know what to say in this situation.

In all honesty, he figured you knew and were just including him. Did you really think he was that weak? Or could you simply not conceive of a restless existence? Whatever the answer, he had no response for you, expecting a shrug of the shoulders- you he would discover, would not so easily let go of things.

And how humiliated you were. How many HOURS had you spent sleeping with him, within his grasp, in his space for him to have been conscious the whole time? You tried thinking back, attempting to recall a time you had requested a nap when he was uninterested.

He had never uttered a word about it. Never turned you down. Sukuna was not a kind king, he rarely ever did things that were not out of necessity, and he certainly did not do things he didn't like. That, at least, was consolation. You knew he had not been suffering for your sake, but even so, it was embarrassing.

Sukuna, still, could not understand your sheepishness about the subject. He did not care to explain that time works differently for him, that his mind is not so simple as yours and does not require entertainment all the time, that he could sit still for years and not be bothered, and frequently did before you came along.

He assumed you would get over it quickly. In your time as well as his. But days passed and he rarely saw you. You took your dinner with other people of the palace and spoke with him in the most cordial manner. One night, he informed Uraume that they needed to prepare a dish suited for you, something that would entice you, and serve it to him.

He figured this would bring you crawling back to him, tail between your legs. Yet, you did not budge.

Odd.

You were wallowing. You knew it. He did not care to spend time, what? Watching you sleep? Of course, he wouldn't, but it hurt your pride, to know you had been taking up such huge chunks of time lazing about in his presence. Well, not anymore. You slept in your chamber and your chamber alone. Gone were the days of blankets on the engawa, gone were the days of resting beneath the kotatsu while laying your head in his lap, gone were the days of sharing his bed.

If ever he wished for someone to share his bed, he had a whole cast of concubines, though you knew they were never of any use to him, they were mostly just house staff with a fancy title.

The evening he finally decided enough was enough, you were in the washhouse doing laundry.

Your back was arched over a bin full of soapy water. Your hands working tirelessly on some cloth.

"Have you not circumvented me enough?" He spoke in a low and slow tone.

"Lord Sukuna." You bowed, clothing in your hands, suds up your forearms, you bent your neck as to not look at him.

"You will reply now." He raised a brow, watching your hands quietly splash in the washbin.

"Was there something you would like me to assist to?" You questioned. Your head was full of possible reasons for what the king meant by seeking you out personally.

"Do you believe that by not sleeping in my presence I would come to believe you do not require rest?" He spoke in an unserious tone, eyes unblinking.

"No, my lord." Now what was he playing at? Of course that wasn't your intention.

"Then you hide yourself from me because you no longer have time for your king, I suppose." He mused.

Oh, for heaven's sake, "No, my lord."

"I see," He bent down to look you dead in the eyes, "So, you must no longer crave my occupancy of your space. You must not desire my hand running through your hair? I suppose you have tired of staying in my chambers?" His tone remained deep but his eyes were dead serious now.

"I-" You began, but suddenly you felt the urge to cough, swallowing you tried again, "I wished not to preoccupy so much of your time."

"And you made this decision without enlightening your king."

You said nothing.

"You will eat with me tonight, you shall stay in my chambers henceforth." He rose in record speed, turning without a second glance your way, maids were staring wide-eyed at the king of curses as he halted at the entrance of the washhouse. You could not see, but there was finality in his voice.

"I wish not to waste-" You were cut off by Sukunas voice, his broad back still facing you.

"Your wishes do not interest me now, so it seems. It is my wish for you to spend your time with me." His steps resounded through the compound, your face slack.

The maids smirked, and with shocked faces, side-eyed one another. A couple entered the washhouse giving you big open-mouthed smiles, and patted your shoulder as they passed.

That night Uraume made something you would go on to beg them to make for years to come. And when Sukuna pulled you prone from your seated position on his bed, he took a firm fingertip and stroked the space between your eyes, one of his enormous hands encircling your skull and massaging your temples with his thumb and ring fingers. He traced the bridge of your nose to your forehead, the way you would stroke a cat.

Perhaps he thought this would induce drowsiness but all it did was make you feel all floaty inside at his silliness.

And for the first time since that night, you slept alongside him. Within his embrace, and when you awoke, Sukuna's eyes were closed.

[myapathyhaspeaked]

hey are the sides bedrooms that we see in the plushy video the same kind of room we see in the accepting anxiety and nostalgia episodes and theyre there because thomas is asleep or are they a separate thing entirely

[rottakone]

Alright so cold take, the Minecraft Movie looks fucking horrendous. It looks like a parody or an advert, not an actual movie people would want to make or watch.

Many others have said the same thing, but why the fuck isn't it an animated movie?? There are so many beautiful fucking art pieces made by fans or just look at the official Minecraft concept art!!

The world of Minecraft is so pretty and you could have so much artistic freedom to make a really fucking cool stylistic animated movie!!

But no.. We get white zionist Steve and in general just an irl cast for some reason, and ugly ass CGI.

Why can't it follow the minimal story Minecraft already has? The main character, whether it be Steve or someone else, wakes up with no explanation as to how they got there, and they juat have to survive. Minecraft has all these mysteries baked into the different worlds and structures, it would be so cool to have the movie explore them in some way!

I'm assuming this movie will just be "Hey, I'm white zionist Steve and I'll help you guys get back to your world" and the main content of the movie is gonna be the group of people experiencing Minecraft things, that we've already seen and know everything about, for the first time.

Idk man. I think people should boycott the movie because of the zionist in the main role and I don't think that'll be too difficult. Thanks if you read the whole thing <3

[yamujiburo]

A few months ago, some of you might know if you keep up with this blog, I went to Collect-A-Con LA. It was truly on a whim. Literally the day before my girlfriend and I had just come back from our Europe trip. Normally I'd be so tired and jetlagged but for some reason I was feeling really antsy and energized and just needed to go somewhere and get out of the house.

I found out that Collect-A-Con LA was happening the following day and that a lot of the original Pokemon voice cast would be there. So I bought a ticket, drew/printed up a picture that I wanted to get signed and got up early to drive to the convention center (you have to understand that I hate driving in town and also very much never wake up early). I don't know what possessed me to do this but I'm so glad I did.

I ended up having the privilege of meeting Eric Stuart, Veronica Taylor and of course, Rachael Lillis.

She was masked up, looked tired, and a bit sick. And at the time, I assumed she might've caught a cold over the weekend of the con. I went to her table and she still smiled and gave me all of her attention and time. I paid her assistant for an autograph, gave Rachael the drawing I'd done and she got to signing it. Her assistant said the print I had was cute and asked where I got it. I told her that I drew it myself and that I spent a LOT of my time drawing Team Rocket and other various Pokemon fanart. When I said that, Rachel stopped mid-sign and looked up and squinted at me and asked "are you Kiana Mai"? My heart skipped. I had no idea she knew who I was and was surprised that, given how many Pokemon fanartists there are in the world, she was able to pick me out. I left that interaction so happy and felt so seen. Soon after, I went to get my print signed by Veronica Taylor and while in her line, noticed Rachael had left her table; presumably not feeling well and had to leave the con early. I remember thinking how lucky I was to catch her before she left.

A couple months later, I saw the gofundme that her sister posted, detailing what Rachel was going through for the past few years and her battle with cancer. It put that convention day in such a different perspective for me.

All I could think about was how much she cared about her fans and how in touch with her community she was to go to a convention while being in so much pain and suffering in silence. I obviously don't know her personally, but based on how other fans who've met her, as well as her colleagues have spoken about her, I got the impression that she was an amazing, thoughtful person who cared about the people around her. That was only solidified for me based on this singular interaction a few months ago.

Rest in Peace Rachael Lillis. You've touched so many lives with your voice and so much of us grew up listening you. Thank you for everything!

[imaginaryf1shots]

Married? | Oscar Piastri

WC: 2.1K

Oscar x Wife!Reader

Summery: He never met to hide it, it's just the way he is.

Warning: none

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

It was always a known thing, there was never any doubt in anyone that knew him, Oscar has always been destined to be an F1 driver. It was written. Anyone that knows him knows this. And you've known him almost all your life. Before he went to Europe and before he started travelling around for Karting and racing in the Formula series. It seems like there was never a point in your life where Oscar wasn't in it. What started as playground friendship turned to crushing on each other, turned to liking each other and then turned into a relationship. Not high school sweethearts, more like six grade sweethearts. No one expected your relationship to last due to you being so young, and still growing up and developing. Yet, the distance only made you grow fonder of each other. Your relationship survived him moving to the UK for school and racing, it survived the time difference and all the growing up you had to do. Video calls are your thing, you're the kind of people to have it on for hours doing mundane things not necessarily talking but just having the feeling that the other was there.

Now when you became 18, the next step wasn't surprising to those around you. You and Oscar talked about it for so long, you finished school already, so what was stopping you? Nothing. With the help of your parents you both got married, and so you relocated to the UK with Oscar. 

You went to Uni and he was off racing. Coming home to you was always the highlight of the day for Oscar, he'd leave his bags by the door and search for you in the apartment before he'd just all but throw himself at you just wanting some love and attention.

You'd be sitting on the sofa folding some laundry, the TV playing, the door would open and close and you would be none the wiser. Oscar would follow the sound of the TV finding you engrossed in the show that's playing, your hands moving on their own as you fold his shirt. Oscar would move to the sofa and you'd gasp in surprise, finally noticing him before he threw himself on the sofa, his head in your lap, his face hiding in your stomach.

"God, Osc, you scared me." You'd say but smile nonetheless, Oscar would mumble a 'sorry' and you'd barely understand it. Your hands go to his hair and you run your fingers through his locks, scratching ever so slightly. Oscar would groan and you lean down to kiss his head. "How was the flight?"

"Long." You hum and just let him have his time getting what he needs. Now it's not often that he'd fall asleep like that, but the flight was long and he didn't get any sleep, he doesn't remember when it happened, but he falls asleep. You'd stay like that for an hour or two, the TV still playing but the sound is lower until he'd wake up. Once he starts waking up, he starts moving around, he moves to his back and slowly opens his eyes, blinking up at you.

"Hey sleepyhead."

"Hey, I didn't realise I slept."

"Yeah, didn't even give me a hello kiss or anything." You teased him, Oscar sleepily sits up and places a hand on your cheek before he presses his lips to yours, once, twice, three times before deepens it. You sigh in content. Happy to have him in your arms after almost a week.

Oscar didn't mean to hide it, he just didn't wear his ring, he lost it twice at races and since then he only wore it when he's not on a racing week. He's also not very talkative, he doesn't find himself sharing things about himself willingly, but if you ask he'll answer, you just have to prompt him. Maybe it was because he was a rookie, or because there was many things happening, but no one realised he was seeing someone in 2023, you've been to races, you didn't really like the limelight, not while you're still studying at least, so you'd go into the paddock alone, but you'd still be a guest of McLaren. Some people just assumed you're a family member (which is correct, but not how they thought) or just a close friend.

All of that came to an end when you finally finished Uni, and were free to travel more, and coming into the paddock with Oscar wasn't such a scary thing anymore. It all came with the fact that you got a new ring for Oscar and kind of 'proposed' to him with it in your living room, Oscar decided to try wearing his ring, he wouldn't have to take it off anyways. It's his wedding ring, and according to the rules he could keep it on.

It was a Grand Prix weekend, Oscar's family flew out for the race. You walked in with them, Nicole was by your side, a couple photographers took photos, manly because they're Oscar's family, not that they know about you. Getting into McLaren, someone tells Oscar that you're all here, you were back in Australia for 2 weeks, while he was at the factory working, it's more than you both had gotten used to in recent years. Oscar comes in and he ignores his family heading straight to you, you smile up at him and he leans in, giving you a hug and a quick kiss.

"Glad to know, you missed us." Nicole teased Oscar, and he went to hug her. She's always happy seeing how still in love you both are, it warms her heart. Her son is in a happy marriage while achieving his dream away from her. Oscar stands with you all as much as he could before he had to go back to work. You all made it to the hospitality.

"I heard Oscar's family is here." Lando walks in at one point, with a smile on his face, he greets everyone, stopping at you, seeing no similarities between you and Oscar. "I know I saw you before, but I don't know who you are."

"It's alright, I'm Oscar's w-."

"Girlfriend?" Lando cuts you off with a smile. "I knew he's in a relationship but he hasn't introduced you."

"No, I'm not-"

"Oh, are you not his girlfriend? I'm sorry."

"It's not tha-"

"I just want to meet his girlfriend, he never talks about anything unless you ask him and-"

"Lando, I'm his-"

"He seems like he's in a relationship, at least that's what I understood from him."

"I'm his wife."

"But I could be wrong and this is all a- wait... what?" Lando stops once he realises what you said, his eyes are wide while you just smile at him.

"I'm his wife." You say again, and his sisters all just giggle to themselves, finding it all very amusing. Lando looks at Nicole and Chris, as if he's waiting for them to say something, to say it's a joke, to deny it, anything.

"I told Oscar to just come out and say he's married." Nicole said shaking her head slightly, this is about to come out, and she knows Oscar will once again turn the internet on it's head.

"he's-you're-and." Lando looks to have malfunctioned. "I need a moment to come to terms with this."

Lando walks away in a daze, it leaves you all amused. You text Oscar telling him what happened with Lando.

Oscar didn't read your message, Lando walked in on him and his engineer while they were in a meeting.

"You-you- you have a wife?" Lando asked, and Oscar's gaze turned from confused to amused really quickly.

"Yeah." Oscar answered simply.

"What?" It was Tom's turn to be surprised.

"I'm married." Oscar held out his left hand showing his ring.

"I thought that was a family heirloom or something." Lando was exasperated.

"No, I lost one or two rings, so y/n, bought me a new one recently." Oscar explained.

"y/n? the girl you bring with you to races from time to time?" Tom asked remembering you, he saw you a few times, but there was never a sign that you're dating Oscar, never mind married to him.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"It just never came up." Oscar shrugged, leaving both men flabbergasted, astonished by the realisation.

"You're one of a kind, Oscar, seriously." Tom shook his head and sighed. "We have to get back to our meeting, this will have to wait."

It didn't take long for the news to travel, those that were in the hospitality and saw the whole thing go down with Lando went on and spread the news around. And Lando asked a few people if they knew, apparently only Zac knew, he thought Oscar wanted to keep it a secret so he said nothing.

The news took a while before it reached Williams.

"Mate, did you know Oscar is married?" Alex asked Logan, Logan frowned and looked up.

"Yeah." Logan answered as if it was a stupid question.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought it was a known thing, I don't know." Logan shrugged. "He's been married since he was 18."

"18!" This was an even bigger shock to the Williams driver.

"Yeah, the moment y/n turned 18, they got married."

"Wow."

And thus the news once again spread, this time the other way around, all the way back to McLaren.

By the time of the driver's parade almost everyone knew that the youngest member on track was married. Oscar was the last on the back of the truck/car thing. All eyes on the Aussie.

"What's... going on?" He asked as he moved down to an empty spot.

"Are you really married?" Charles asked.

"Yeah." It seemed like this was Oscar's favourite answer.

"So I have a daughter in law?" Charles asked and Oscar laughed before nodding. "Wow, they grow up so fast nowadays."

"And you've been married since you were 18?" Max was the one to ask, he's as curious as everyone.

"Yes, the month she turned 18, we got married, and she moved to the UK." Oscar informed them. "And before you ask, I knew her since we were like 5, and have been together since we were 10-11."

"That's crazy." George said to Alex next to him.

By the time the race was underway, a few cameras made it to the McLaren garage for a sight of you. As Oscar was leading the race, the camera flashed to you, with your name and Oscar Piastri's partner under it. The ones watching from home were left confused, but not for long. Oscar won his second race of his Formula 1 career in his 2nd season.

You made it to Parc Ferme, with his parents, his sisters opting to stay in the garage and not get squished. Oscar was the last of the top to make it back, he went to his team before he went straight to you, as always leaving his parents to be hugged after you.

"Congratulations, my love." You tell him, and he squeezes you tighter, the helmet is in the way, but you still kiss the side of it. Oscar then moves to his parents before he goes to get weighed and interviewed by Nico Rosburg.

"-and before we let you go, and not to take away from your win, I have to ask." Nico said and Oscar smiled, he knew what was about to be asked. "Set the records straight, are you married?"

"Yes, have been since I was 18." Oscar said and looked your way, and the camera panned to you, as you stood between his parents smiling with love and adoration for your husband.

"Well, it might be late, but congratulations." Nico said and patted his back, before Oscar made it to the cool-down room.

Cameras snapped a lot of pictures of you, as they waited for the podiums to start. It was obvious how familiar you are with Oscar's parents, and how they treated you like one of their daughters. The interaction was just filled with love and care. This has been going on for years, there's no denying it.

"I didn't know it would be such big news." You said that night, as you and Oscar cuddled on the Sofa, having a quiet moment in the hotel with his family.

"I knew." Nicole said.

"I did too." Chris said.

"Me too." Hattie said.

"Of course it would."

"Obviously."

"Noted." You said and Oscar smiled, kissing the side of your head. "Now everyone knows you have a wife."

"And everyone from your university knows you have a husband."

"You two are still as awful as ever." Hattie said and rolled her eyes teasingly.

"You should've been used to it by now." Nicole said and smiled at her family.

Main Taglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . 

[mxdotpng]

literally could you imagine. now it is the prince who has to kill his knight. do you even get it

[mrchoppedslefthand]

Homicipher Random Headcanons/Scenarios [NSFW]

Edit:11/07/2024

I desperately needed to post the random head canons and scenarios of our husbands that my brain kept cooking up (+ some from discord friends), so the list is not organized. Also, since we shape shift, I'm going to assume we can choose whenever we have a cock or pussy (because I want to be fucked and do the fucking) Anyways...enjoy the food thought.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped Mr. Silvair, Mr. Hood, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Warnings: mentions of NSFW, mentions of some canon-typical violence, implications of dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, implied cuckold

Mr. Crawling

He can be submissive top. Constantly asking you if you love him during intimacy. He would ask if you enjoy playing with him as you pound yourself onto him. He would be a moaning mess and probably wouldn't know what to do about it as he clumsily places his hands around your waist.

He would definitely eat you out without you asking once intimacy had been initiated.

Afraid of hurting you, he wouldn't be too rough, instead he would be more tender and gentler when it comes to intimacy.

He definitely would love it when you play with his hair, allowing you to braid it or do whatever as long it doesn't involve cutting his precious hair.

He actually gets jealous easily, but he doesn't verbalize it, instead he shows it through his actions.

He is better with his hands, than his cock. So sometimes you prefer that over his cock. His cock is more on the average/smaller side and it's cute.

He definitely has a praise kink.

Mr. Chopped

He lacks a body, so to make up for it he is extremely expressive and open with his feelings. Which makes him a little fun to bully, to see all those cute expressions he could make.

He probably would be very good with his mouth and tongue, let him be your personal rose toy/fleshlight if you will. He can't fight back and have no choice but to whimper about it.

Imagine getting sick and fainting with him nearby, he can't move or do anything but helplessly cry for you to wake up and starts crying out help for Mr. Silvair to come help him and you.

Maybe one day, for a day of tricks and pranks. Mr. Stitch will allow Mr. Chopped a day in his body, so they swap places, stitching Mr. Chopped in place of Mr. Stitch's head. It had been a very long time since Mr. Chopped felt sensations beyond his head, so he happens to be very sensitive and clumsy with his hands. Everywhere you touch overwhelms him, he melts and becomes a moaning mess, but Mr. Chopped isn't the only one feeling all these sensations. Mr. Stitch can still feel it too. He is intrigued by today's type of play.

He definitely would be more on the whiny and needy side when it comes to pleasure, he lacks a body, but he can still feel lust. He can't do anything about it, which makes him extremely needy and extra pouty.

Mr. Silvair

Definitely would have had intimacy with other ghosts/humans before to research the body and performance during mid transformation if it differed.

Imagine one day he finds a mysterious liquid that fell from the 'other world' and feeds it to you, himself and the other ghosts in your crew. Only to find out it was an aphrodisiac. It was the first time he felt such a strong sensation of lust. At first, he mistakes this strong desire to be violence, so he starts to self-inflict wounds onto himself. You attempt to stop him, but soon find yourself to be underneath him as he bites into your neck, drawing blood. Surprised at seeing the often-composed man, turning into a ravage beast. You somehow manage to find something to tie him up and have your way with him.

He probably likes overstimulation on you...but also himself. He would love to research on how much his body can go and handle.

He would actually be a switch, for research purposes. To take and give he'd do anything for research. It had been long long ago since his body used to be human, and he often forgets about his own experiences if he doesn't write them down, but no worries, he has you by his side now to keep remembering.

Mr. Hood

He is quiet but speaks whenever he finds it suited for. But if you need him, he would be happy to talk with you.

He is a bit insecure about his body, he doesn't have arms or hands or even legs, he is an entity of nothing. The clothes are what shape his form, and well maybe he not entirely a entity of nothing. You had a glimpse before, a small glimpse and sensation of a squishy and somewhat slimy part that had belonged to him. You never mentioned though, but if it was you'd love him still anyways.

He realized that some words had been a bit harder for you to keep in mind and remember and so he thought of a special way to get you learning. Learning with what humans call pleasure. He fucks you and asks you what certain things are, and if you get it wrong, he denies you from coming. You have become determined to learn your words properly even more so now. Because if you remember you get rewarded with the most absolute fulfilling fuck of your life.

Since most of his body is invisible or nothing. If you mouth fucked him you would be able to see that real good, it is strangely erotic watching your cock move inside his mouth.

Mr. Gap

When you're sleeping, sometimes he might just cuddle against your leg or lower half. He loves the feeling of warmth, compared to his hollow darkness.

He definitely seems like the type of person to eat you out while you're asleep. Playing around and waiting for you to wake up to watch your reaction. Of course, he would only do this though if he knew you'd allow it. He values consent.

Imagine taking your backpack to school and you have to take out a pencil for a test. When you open your backpack, you realize it is just an empty void and hear a voice asking for your heart in exchange for the pencil. Yeah... you accepted your fate. You just failed your exam...

When you become a moaning mess under him, he can't understand but he knows that from your sweet voice, and moans, that it's a good thing. He knows to keep continuing.

One day Mr. Gap gathers his usual newspapers that fall from the rubble or somehow manages to grab one from the human realm. He notices a magazine that discusses about marriage and giving rings on the fourth finger. Intrigued about this idea, he asks you for your all four of your fingers, but you misunderstand and refuse to give him your fingers. He's sad but soon you later find out that he was asking for your hand in marriage, literally but also figuratively.

Mr. Machete

We would wonder aimlessly for an eternity together searching for his/your home. But eventually our subconscious would recognize each other as home instead.

He would definitely mock and laugh at how fast you would falter/melt under his touch. Calling you "weak" for coming so fast but would give kisses here and there after the mocking.

He'd probably be into throat fucking and laugh at you looking pathetic, he loves reactions that aren't boring, so seeing you choke on his cock seems like a great idea.

He definitely would come inside most of the time.

When he fucks you, his cock would probably bulge out a little from your stomach, fascinated by it he'd roughly press his hand down near that area.

He is our beefy dumb macho, perfect.

If you mouth/fucked him he would tell you he feels nothing, but his eyes would already be red and tearing. He's a pathetic coward.

Mr. Scarletella

He belongs to you, and you belong to him, together forever, in a hellish world. He loves the destruction you bring into his life and does the same for you.

Oh boy, he would absolutely devour you, his queen, in pleasure. Fuck you stupid to the point you're just a blabbering mess, hands on waist, and long fingers in your mouth, as he pounds deeply into you.

He seems like the type of guy to fuck you during your period.

Definitely gets jealous easily and he makes it know when he gets that way.

Imagine your fucked/fucking another ghost and you hear static within the distance, the sound slowly starts to come closer and closer until you hear the static in the room. Your crimson servant arrives and witnesses your fantastic display of intimacy. Jealous, he kills them and becomes extra possessive and quite terrifying, but you love it so much. How he seems so lost and pathetic without you.

You don't know his name, but neither does he know yours. Despite this disconnect, you still manage to give him some sort of other named to be called. It's connected to your name, but he knows it's not all of it, he can't fully whisk you away, but he's okay with that. You are still bound to him for an eternity anyway.

If Mr. Scarletella went back to the human world with you instead, he would appear to be the one most suited for fitting in. Just slack some foundation on his face, make him wear gloves and he would blend in quite well. Well...except for his odd habit of asking every stranger for their name and laughing and giggling crazily each time.

He would have a praise and degradation kink, he's not a whore. He's YOUR whore. He likes being YOURS.