#.... Also like if you need help in souls games hit me up

[saixria]

The ICHBW live stream animatic is hitting me hard hours after the fact I’m not a crier but I’m actually tearing up. Now I can fully articulate what I love about Athena’s part. Athena’s character came together so well I love it and I think the visuals combined with a day more of thinking + discussing with friends really helped me better understand everything. Those last 90 seconds of ICHBW was the BEST PART OF THE ENTIRE SHOW. Ridiculously long Athena character analysis under the cut which quickly devolves into thematic discussion lmao

First of all, the expressions they have on the animatic makes it abundantly clear that ody and Athena weren’t separated. HER SMILE!! HER LIGHTNING SCAR!! ODYSSEUS’ EXPRESSION SOFTENED TO A SMILE AFTER GETTING OUT OF QUICK THOUGHT!! Odysseus definitely pieced together what she did for her right then, there’s no other reason for Jorge to show Athena showing Odysseus that scar otherwise. It’s like they immediately slid back into place like puzzles pieces even after 10 years. They’ve been changed in completely opposite ways. Odysseus the mortal has been turned to be less human, more ruthless, while Athena the immortal goddess has been turned to be more human, more empathetic. The latter partially because of Odysseus. Tbh Athena ever showing her face to Odysseus after My Goodbye and saying “I can’t help but feel like I’ve led you astray” is as close to an apology as it’s gonna get LMAO. The unresolved WOTM melody in the end is actually because their story together hasn’t ended, it’s because Odysseus doesn’t have to be her warrior of the mind anymore.

I once said that open arms is more than mercy, but treating the world kindly to lead to kinder souls down the road, to change the world for the better, and it holds true even more now. Odysseus is too tired for this. He’s just a man, he knows a better world is possible but he can no longer be a part of it. He can’t witness the better world in his short mortal lifetime, he just wants his happy ending with his wife. He doesn’t want to be Athena’s warrior of the mind anymore, and that’s ok. And yet, and yet he knows it is possible. He needs it to be possible, and he needs Athena to make it possible. Athena accepts it with a soft “very well”. That doesn’t mean they won’t ever see each other again, just that they no longer have that obligation of mentor-student, they’re just two old friends. They can rebuild their relationship slowly but surely with what they have.

Telemachus is the Warrior of the Mind now (AHHHHHH HIS ATHENA CAPE AND HELMET I LOVE HIS UPGRADE). From here, Telemachus and Athena are gonna truly fulfill Athena’s mission of “making a greater tomorrow” except it isn’t to turn the world more logical and ruthless like she once thought, but to make the world more empathetic and kind — she’s finally found what she was fighting for. Perhaps this is why the WOTM melody in God Games ended with Legendary — Telemachus is the new warrior of the mind. Odysseus fought for a world where his son can be safe and grow up kind and he succeeded in that. Far from war, Telemachus grew up able to afford kindness and empathy while also retaining the ability to be ruthless in face of obstacles — and now he can use this to change the world to Athena’s new ideal — where people held each other with more empathy — as Athena’s new Warrior of the Mind.

Athena’s verse existing is a sign of her reconciliation with Odysseus (in character might I add! I don’t think they’re the type to express their affection so easily, they know each other so we’ll that they just know), so instead her verse is there to expand on the show’s theme as I will be talking about next.

I absolutely adore the depth Athena’s ICHBW verse adds to the thesis of the show. I’ve always thought of epic as mostly being about how it was best to strive for a balance between ruthlessness and open arms, but circumstances only allowed Odysseus to become ruthless which was tragic, while different circumstances allowed Telemachus to be both. But it’s not just that. Sure it’s good to have a balance between the two ideaologies but what if we could make a world where ruthlessness wasn’t needed at all? What if we could be unconditionally kind and be treated with kindness in return instead of taken advantage of or hurt? Where, when given the choice between open arms and ruthlessness, people would choose open arms? It wasn’t possible for these characters, but it could happen someday in the future. If Athena and Telemachus can work towards that future so can we. So should we, considering we’re in a much better place compared to them. A friend of mine said this was a call to action to us in the present and I just. Have not been able to stop thinking about it.

Athena has always thought in “maybes” about her purpose. from WOTM to My Goodbye we’ll be fine to ICHBW. “Maybe one day…” -> “One day you’ll…” -> “maybe if I…” -> “what if…” it’s like she’s representing the future, the “greater tomorrow” of what could be, because as Odysseus said, she’s immortal and she will live to see it and change it. Circe saga has something similar — “Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”, “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more, or maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more”. The connection of these hypotheticals “maybe one day” with a future world that could possibly be changed for the better by spreading kindness and open arms extends from Athena’s songs to There are Other Ways, one of the only times in the musical where, when Circe could choose between ruthlessness and mercy, she chose to show mercy and help them in hopes of spreading kindness to the world and making the world a slightly better place — aka a scenario that showed how unconditional kindness, “open arms”, could work, for kindness isn’t the inability to be cruel but choosing kindness even when you have the choice not to be. “Kindness is brave”, like Polites said.

Because of her immortality, Athena is the character who’s most connected to “time” in the musical with her time-related abilities like “time dive”, making people think quicker, having a domain essentially outside of time and space… She doesn’t just have a connection with the future but also the past. As someone who lives forever, she is the one who can connect the past, learning from past mistakes, to change the future: “To fall is to learn one way”.

Speaking of her connection to time, You can almost see that at one point Athena was the narrator of the story (see cut songs: full speed ahead demo and Ismarus) like Hamilton’s Burr: simultaneously an observer and a participant of the story. In the animatic of ICHBW she’s overseeing everything happening from her hour glass, wondering out loud from a meta perspective about the themes of the show, hypotheticals of what a different story, a different world could have looked like, and bringing everything to a close. It really feels like Athena is who’s gonna “live and tell their story” as per Hamilton, as always has been the case from burrthena narration days of Old Epic. She’s not just the bridge between the past and future but also between the story and the audience, by bringing up these themes on a meta level to directly tell the audience to make the world a kinder place, because we have the choice, unlike Odysseus who can only choose to accept his actions and move forward. Because she lives forever she can carry on their memories forever. She can keep telling their story over and over again to remind herself and others to change the world by showing empathy and open arms, and she will keep telling this story to us until ruthlessness is no longer needed in the world. The world where this is possible is not theirs but OURS. It is WE who have the chance to choose between ruthlessness and open arms and the show is telling us that, when we have this choice and aren’t forced to be ruthless, to always choose kindness and empathy. Like Circe, like Telemachus. So that we may impart some kindness unto the world and make it a better place.

“Maybe one day we’ll reach them and we’ll make a greater tomorrow then they’ll see I know we’ll change the world cuz we are the warriors of the mind!” — yes, they have reached us. We are all also warriors of the mind, doing our part to change the world for the better, to be kinder.

To me, one part of Athena’s character that’s never clicked for me was her motivation in WOTM. “Make a greater tomorrow” “we’ll change the world” why? How? What’s the point of including this in her song when it’s never come back up again? Now with the ICHBW verse, everything is tied up with a beautiful ribbon. She has always wanted to change the world for the better, and now she’s finally found out how — to spread empathy and Open Arms — and it’s inspired by the desire to help her friends, to prevent what happened to Odysseus from happening again, honoring him, just as how Odysseus tried to embrace Open Arms to honor his dead friends’ memories.

All in all, I’ve grown to genuinely really really like Athena’s verse in ICHBW. It’s so short but so effective at conveying so much. I hope that made sense bc it’s more a compilation of thoughts I had rather than a structured essay. Perhaps one day I will restructure this into a proper essay but not today for after all I’m- *gets shot

[moonselune]

I love the concept that plays with how blank a slate Tav is and what that could mean. Like think of a high charisma (bard) Tav who goes through the entire plot carefully conceiling their own struggles and traumas so to not loose focus on helping everyone else first.

A Tav who, till the late game, carefully side stepped ever sharing a shred of their sad life with the group so not to risk loosing respect as leader. Until their romanced companion’s own quest is finished and the companion suddenly realized they don’t know A Thing about the love of their life.

Que intervention as they insist Tav lean on them as well.

Oooooo this is such a cool concept!!! I wrote little snippets of it with the ladies because I just needed to see it in action ahaha, and also i wasn't sure if this was a request or a sharing thoughts situation, but either way thank you!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach’s laughter usually lit up the camp like a second sun, warm and untamed. But tonight, as she sat next to you, her smile was hesitant, her brow furrowed in thought. The fire crackled between you, casting flickering light over her troubled face. Her quest was over—the engine in her chest hummed quietly, no longer a constant threat, and for the first time in years, she could dream of a future.

With you.

And yet, now that the battlefields were behind you and her own burdens were lifted, Karlach realized something startling: she didn’t know you.

She knew your jokes, your way of rallying the group when morale dipped, your quick wit and even quicker blade. But you’d always deflected questions about yourself, about your past, in such a charming way that no one ever pressed.

Until now.

“You’re quiet tonight, soldier,” Karlach said softly, nudging your shoulder with hers. Her voice was light, teasing, but her gaze held a deeper intensity.

“I thought you’d enjoy a bit of peace,” you replied, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

She tilted her head, studying you. “Peace? Sure. But not silence. C’mon, you’ve got me curious.”

“Curious?”

Karlach nodded, leaning back on her hands. The firelight danced in her eyes. “Yeah. We’ve been through hell together, fought gods and monsters, and you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger. But I just realized... I don’t know anything about you. Who you were. Where you’re from. What keeps you up at night.”

You laughed nervously, brushing off her words with a joke. “What keeps me up? You, snoring like a troll after a good meal.”

But Karlach wasn’t laughing. Her hand reached out, warm and steady, to rest on your arm. “I’m serious. Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?”

For a moment, the mask slipped. Your smile faltered, your shoulders tensed, and you looked away. “Because it’s not important.”

Karlach’s grip tightened, grounding you. “Bullshit.”

The word hit harder than any blade. You glanced back at her, meeting her gaze, and saw nothing but unwavering determination.

“You’ve carried all of us, soldier,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve been there for me, for everyone, without ever asking for anything in return. But you don’t have to carry it all alone. Not anymore.”

The weight of her words was unbearable. You opened your mouth to deflect again, to joke, to lie—but Karlach was relentless.

“Talk to me,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “Let me be there for you, the way you’ve been there for me. Please.”

And so, with her hand warm against your arm and her eyes locked on yours, the dam broke. You told her everything: the choices you’d made, the people you’d lost, the sacrifices that had carved deep scars into your soul. You spoke until your throat was raw, until tears blurred your vision, until the weight you’d carried for so long began to lift.

When you finished, Karlach pulled you into her arms, her infernal heart humming quietly between you.

“You’re not alone,” she whispered, her voice fierce with conviction. “Not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the gathering. It was one of those rare quiet nights when the group could let their guard down after a day of relentless fighting and tension. You sat slightly apart from the others, leaning on a log with your lute resting against your lap, fingers idly plucking a soft tune. The others laughed and chatted, the mood light for once, a reflection of a recent victory in defeating Orin.

Minthara was a commanding presence at the center of the gathering, her voice cool and measured as she recounted a story of conquest from her youth in the Underdark. You watched her with quiet admiration, a small smile on your face. Her victory had brought her a visible sense of satisfaction, and you were glad to have helped her achieve it. But as the group began to disperse for the night, she approached you, her sharp golden eyes intent.

“You’ve been unusually quiet tonight,” she said, sitting beside you on the log. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was a probing edge to it.

You shrugged, still plucking at the lute strings. “Just enjoying the peace. It’s not often we get nights like this.”

Minthara frowned slightly. “You say that as though peace is a luxury you cannot afford.”

You hesitated, the music faltering for a moment before you resumed playing. “We all have things we’re dealing with,” you said lightly, deflecting as you always did.

She narrowed her eyes at you, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “Do we now? I suppose it’s convenient that you always seem to deal with them in private. A leader who asks for nothing of their allies, who gives so much and reveals so little.”

You chuckled softly, trying to play it off. “I’m just a bard. Stories and songs, that’s all I have to offer. It’s better if I focus on everyone else’s happiness. That’s how we keep moving forward, right?”

Her hand shot out, catching your wrist and stilling the lute’s strings. The sudden silence was startling.

“Enough,” she said, her voice low but commanding. “Do not insult me by pretending you have no burdens of your own. I have watched you—carefully, closely—and I see the cracks beneath your mask.”

You stared at her, your heart pounding. Minthara had always been astute, but you hadn’t expected her to press the issue like this.

“I… it’s not important,” you murmured, avoiding her gaze. “Not compared to what everyone else has been through.”

Her fingers tightened around your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make her point. “Do you think so little of me that you believe I cannot handle your truth? Or do you think so little of yourself that you cannot share it?”

Her words hit harder than you cared to admit. For so long, you had poured your energy into being the strong, charismatic leader your companions needed, smoothing over conflicts, supporting their struggles, and offering unwavering encouragement. But you’d never let them see the darker parts of yourself.

Minthara’s gaze softened, her hand loosening on your wrist but not letting go. “You have been my rock through my darkest moments, my most trying battles. Yet I realize now I know nothing of what lies beneath the surface of the one I call my heart. Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not that,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I trust you more than anyone. But I—” You paused, struggling to find the words. “If I start talking about it, it’ll feel real. And I’ve worked so hard to keep it buried. To keep it from interfering with everything we’re trying to do.”

Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then she moved closer, her presence warm and grounding.

“You are not alone anymore. Whatever demons haunt you, they will not diminish you in my eyes. If anything, they make you stronger for having faced them.” She paused, her voice softening. “But strength is not refusing to lean on others. Strength is allowing those who care for you to share the weight.”

Her words broke something open inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. Slowly, you set the lute aside and took a deep breath. For the first time, you began to speak—not with a practiced deflection or a half-truth, but honestly. You told her about the losses that had shaped you, the scars you carried, and the fear that if you let others see your pain, they would lose faith in you as a leader.

Minthara listened intently, her hand never leaving yours. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to offer platitudes or solutions. When you finished, she reached up to touch your cheek, her fingers brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

“You are more than I ever imagined,” she said softly, her voice full of conviction. “And I am honored to carry your pain with you.”

Her words were a balm, and as you leaned into her touch, you felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time in a long while, you weren’t carrying the weight alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lae’zel was never one for subtlety. It wasn’t her way, and it wasn’t what drew her to you. What drew her to you was your strength, your decisiveness, your ability to unite a group of misfits and drive them toward a common goal. In you, she saw a leader worth following—and eventually, someone worth loving.

But as you sat by the campfire one evening, spinning a tale that had the others laughing and cheering, Lae’zel watched you with narrowed eyes. She noticed the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your voice faltered when someone asked about your own past, and how deftly you redirected the conversation back to them. You had thought she would have been too wrapped up in her own victory that day, that she was finally free of Vlaakith's lies, a new champion found in Prince Orpheus. But you were wrong.

It wasn’t until the camp was quiet, with only the two of you lingering by the dying embers, that she decided to confront you.

“You wear your mask well,” she said bluntly, sitting across from you.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Mask? I wasn’t wearing one during the performance.”

Lae’zel huffed, her sharp yellow eyes locking onto yours. “You know what I mean. You speak of others’ pain as though it were your own. You rally us with words that stir the soul. But when it comes to you...” She leaned forward, her voice low and accusing. “I know nothing of the one I call ‘commander'. The one I love.”

You hesitated, your usual arsenal of witty retorts suddenly failing you. “Lae’zel, I—”

“Do not lie to me,” she cut you off, her voice firm but not unkind. “I see it in your eyes, in the way you deflect. You think yourself clever, but I know what it is to hide weakness.”

Her words struck a chord, and for a moment, you considered brushing her off. But the intensity in her gaze—equal parts frustration and concern—kept you rooted in place.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice quieter than usual. “What I’ve been through... it’s not important. The group—you—come first. Always.”

Lae’zel’s expression softened, though her resolve didn’t waver. She stood and moved to sit beside you, her hand reaching out to grasp yours. “Do not belittle me by suggesting that your struggles are insignificant. You are not some faceless pawn on a battlefield. You are my partner. My heart beats for you.”

Her words undid you. The walls you’d so carefully constructed began to crumble as she continued, her voice gentler now.

“You have carried the burdens of us all. It is time you shared your own.”

The floodgates opened. Slowly at first, then all at once, you began to speak—of the losses you’d endured, the sacrifices you’d made, and the fear that admitting any of it would shatter the respect the group had for you. Lae’zel listened without interruption, her grip on your hand unwavering. When you were done, she pulled you into her arms, her strength a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

“You are stronger than you know,” she said softly, her voice near your ear. “And you are not alone. Not anymore.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to believe her. To trust someone else. To share the pain.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart was patient, but only to a point. She’d fallen for you—not the bard’s mask you wore so expertly, but the glimpses of vulnerability you let slip when you thought no one was watching. Yet those moments were fleeting, and every time she tried to delve deeper, you sidestepped her with the same charming ease you used on everyone else.

It wasn’t until her personal quest had come to a bittersweet end—when she finally felt free from the shackles of Shar’s influence—that she realized the gaping hole in her knowledge of you.

You sat by the edge of the camp, tuning your lute under the pale light of the moon. Shadowheart approached quietly, her steps soft on the grass. She didn’t speak until she was sitting beside you, her gaze fixed on the instrument in your hands.

“You’re always playing for others,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “Have you ever written a song for yourself?”

You chuckled, though there was a hint of unease in the sound. “I prefer to leave the self-indulgent ballads to others.”

Shadowheart turned to you, her expression serious. “Why?”

You hesitated, your fingers stilling on the strings. “Because it’s not about me. It’s about... helping. Inspiring. That’s what matters.”

Shadowheart sighed, her frustration evident. “You’re deflecting again.”

Your shoulders tensed, and you looked away, your usual charm faltering under her unwavering gaze.

“I’m fine, Shadowheart,” you said, though the words rang hollow even to your ears. “Really. There’s nothing to—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. “I’ve spent my life serving a goddess who demanded I suppress everything I was. I know what it looks like when someone is hiding their pain. And I know how much it hurts to carry it alone.”

Her words struck a nerve, and for a moment, you couldn’t meet her eyes.

“It’s easier this way,” you admitted quietly. “If I focus on everyone else, if I don’t talk about it... then it’s like it doesn’t exist. Like it doesn’t matter.”

Shadowheart reached out, her hand gently brushing against yours. “But it does matter. You matter.”

You glanced at her, the sincerity in her eyes threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls you’d built around yourself.

“What if... What if I tell you, and you see me differently?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Shadowheart’s expression softened, and she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “I already see you, even if you don’t realize it. You’ve given so much of yourself to this group—to me. Let me give something back.”

Her words were the final push you needed. Slowly, haltingly, you began to speak—about the traumas you’d buried, the fear of letting anyone see the cracks in your facade, and the constant pressure to be everything to everyone.

Shadowheart listened intently, her hand never leaving yours. When you finished, she shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you in a tender embrace.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” she murmured. “Not anymore. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, you allowed yourself to lean into her comfort, the weight of your secrets finally beginning to lift.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The campfire burned low, crackling faintly in the still night air. You sat alone at the edge of camp, your lute balanced across your lap, fingers idly plucking a soft melody. It was your usual way of winding down after a long day, the gentle music serving as a balm not just for yourself but for your companions. Tonight, though, your mind was elsewhere, the notes faltering now and then as memories you worked so hard to suppress bubbled unbidden to the surface.

Across camp, Jaheira watched you with a quiet intensity. She had spent decades in the company of adventurers, soldiers, and leaders, and she recognized the signs of a burden carried in silence. Even if the freshly recruited Minsc was determined to fill that silence with his usual babbles. You, the charismatic bard, the glue that held this strange, volatile group together, had always been an enigma. You soothed tensions, inspired courage, and tended to the wounds of body and soul without ever revealing anything of yourself.

It hadn’t bothered her before—not in the heat of the crisis, when every moment was a battle for survival. But now, Jaheira found herself uneasy. The realization struck her that despite all her time at your side, she knew little of the person she had grown to love. And it gnawed at her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

She rose from her seat, approaching you with her usual confidence, though her expression softened as she drew nearer.

“You’ll wear your strings thin at this rate,” she teased gently, nodding toward your lute.

You glanced up, offering her your practiced, easy smile. “Ah, but music soothes even the most restless soul. Should I not share it?”

Jaheira’s lips quirked upward in a small smile, but her gaze was piercing. “Perhaps. But who soothes you, bard?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, your fingers stilling on the strings.

“I—” You laughed lightly, deflecting. “I’m fine, Jaheira. Don’t worry about me.”

She crossed her arms, her emerald eyes narrowing. “You’ve said that every time someone’s asked. And yet, I can’t help but notice that ‘fine’ is all you ever claim to be. Do you expect me to believe that a life as tangled as yours comes without scars?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she cut you off, sitting down beside you and placing a firm hand on your arm. “Enough. You’ve carried the weight of everyone else’s troubles, including mine. You’ve fought for us, bled for us, and offered comfort whenever we’ve needed it. But not once—not once—have you shared even a fragment of your own story. Why is that?”

The weight of her words settled over you like a shroud, and for a moment, you couldn’t meet her gaze. “I… I didn’t want to distract anyone,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than usual. “There was so much to do, so much at stake. If I started talking about my own problems, it would have… I don’t know, shifted things. Made me seem weaker. Less of a leader.”

Jaheira’s hand tightened on your arm. “Weakness? Do you think I’d see you as weak because you’re human? Because you have wounds that haven’t healed?”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s not that simple. I had to keep everyone together. If I faltered—if I let anyone see how badly I was struggling—what would’ve happened to us? To you?”

She sighed, her thumb brushing absently over your sleeve. “You’ve spent so much time tending to others, you’ve forgotten how to let someone tend to you. But that’s not leadership; that’s martyrdom.”

Her words cut deep, striking at a truth you’d been avoiding for so long. Slowly, you looked up at her, and the concern in her gaze nearly undid you. “Jaheira… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start here,” she said simply, placing her other hand over yours. “Start with me. You’ve given so much of yourself to everyone else; now let someone give something back.”

And so you did. Haltingly at first, the words spilling out in a jumbled, unpracticed mess. You told her of the choices you regretted, the people you’d lost, the nights spent lying awake under the stars wondering if you’d ever be enough. She listened without interruption, her hand never leaving yours, her presence steady and grounding.

By the time you finished, your throat was tight and your shoulders felt lighter than they had in years. Jaheira leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from your face, her expression filled with an affection that made your heart ache.

“There,” she said softly. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laughed shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?”

She smiled, the warmth in her eyes chasing away the last shadows of doubt. “It takes one to know one.”

As she pulled you into a gentle embrace, you realized she was right. For the first time, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to let go of the mask you’d worn for so long.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

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[tianshanb]

A head canon of mine that baby damian was ALLOWED to be a baby. Just with extra assassin trianing.

Like you know those parents that start their kids on sports, or languages, or instruments as babies etc. Talia just started him on assassin training early. But he's just a baby

Cue dmaian walking into training with a pacifier and clutching a blanket.

Just imagine damian with a tiny wooden sword copying the moves of his instructor. Once it's break time, he toddles to the other corner of the room where he plops down on a bunch of pillows and blankets waiting for him, and most importantly, his bottle. Training is tiring he needs a drink 😤

He may also take a nap mid lesson cz he's just a babyyyyy. He brings his favorite plushie to "watch him" when he train. Instead of playing house he plays secret assassin mission with the toys.

As he grows older. 4 to 6 years old. The pacifier is gone by then, and he no longer brings his toys. The new instructor seeing this mature soul in a child body confidently walking up to you with their nose turned up... the illusion is shattered when they open their mouth and half their teeth are missing. Then, mid trianing damian take a drink from their sippy cup thats batman themed (it was a gift from his mama from her latest mission).

Yep just a child.

7 years old is when his training gets super hard. That's the age where your viewed as starting to mature.

I imagine at this age where Ra's is like finally he's old enough to start his real trianing, and Talia is no longer the one responsible for him. This continues to increase in difficulty until he's 9. And shaped off to batfam.

But hoenstly:

Sword trianing?? Imagine this aggressive toddler swinging this sword around. A thing about babies is they LOVEEE swinging shit around, hitting things, throwing things. So training would BE fun.

Eventually he'd had to learn how to break his fall, how to get tackled, etc. Dmaian just sees it as a game and it makes him giggled. KIDS enjoy being tossed around. Like roughhousing is a thing for a reason, the same reason why people throw babies in the air when they play with them.

When he goes to the batfamily. He's just a random 9 year old. One thing about why I can never take the little guy seriously is no matter how intimidating and scary you wbat to seem... your voice will still be that of a child. Another hc is when he's angry he gets on his tippy toes cz he's soo tinyyy. I imagine an argument geting super heated and finally dmaian doing on his toes and suddenly whoever he's arguing with can't take his seriously cz he smol, like this big 👌, and missing some teeth. He has a bed time and can't watch horror movies, like seriously are u arguing with him?

Another thing is Talia had limited screen time and access to devices and technology. She also had parent control on every device. Bruce just does not have that. Dmaian is going to Bruce, and being excited, he's old enough to use a device without parental supervision, or the parent app is so excited that he's seen as a grown-up! (In reality, Bruce just firgot. He never had kids this young with smartphones existing). He's bragging to tim about it one day when bruce overheard, and he's like, hold up a minute.

Extra:

This idea came to me once my friend told me about a student she has. Me and her are tutors and she tutors math. At her centre, there is no specific grade, everyone just advances through the levels as long as they pass the previous level.

In her group, there is this 2 year old toddler who's parents put in tutoring since he was 18 months old. This baby is dropped of by his parents, walking in with a pacifier in his mouth with the clip on to shirt thing. Sometimes in his pj's and sometimes clutching his 'blankie'.

This little dude does advanced algebra. That's right HIGHCHOOL LEVEL ALGEBRA.

He's barely toilet trained 😭 and he asked for help to go to the bathroom, his grip on the pencil is shaky, he still baby talks... but I bet he's better than u at maths.

[twsted-time]

Overblot bois vs dirty songs

How will the overblot bois react to their girlfriend listening (and dancing to dirty songs from her world.

CW: face fucking on Leona’s part. Established relationships. Mention of malleus having two cocks

Riddle:

Song: hips don’t lie

Face turns red immediately

You can’t tell if his embarrassed or angry

Collars you for being immoral (if you are in public)

If not he just scolds you for listening to such things.

Would forbid you to listen to them again.

“W-Why are you listening to something like that!?” He stuttered. “It’s a song from my world.” You whined. “A-Are all songs from your world this… dirty…” he trailed off. You shook your head. “No but there are worse out there.”

Leona

Song:MONTERO

Wonders why you woke him up.

When he sees how you are dancing to the song as well as listening to the lyrics he decides to just watch you.

Till you make a motion to the lyrics “Shot a child in your mouth while I’m riding”

Suddenly you don’t even to get finish the song as you are pushed to your knees with Leona infront of you.

You can barely breathe with the rough pass Leona had set thrusting into your throat. “Hah.. if you wanted to swallow my cum herbivore. You could hav said so. “ he panted out as his hands gripped your hair.

Azul:

Song: Daisy (don’t ask I wanna save some of the others for later)

Is appalled by how vulgar the song starts.

Then is also a bit put off by. How much the song curses.

Till it starts “I’m crazy but you like that. I bite back, daisies on your night stand”

He can’t help but watch how your hips move.

Is very glad you two are the only ones in the vip room

“My pearl must you move like that?” He asked trying not to look up at you by fake focusing on his contracts. You smile and wink at him before just continuing to dance. Managing to catch his gaze every now and then with a huge blush on his face.

Jamil

Song: candy shop

Is horrified at first

But his eyes can’t help but drift to your hips

Kinda realize the lyrics aren’t about candy

Try not to get too sexual with the song.

Right as you bend over hand over your pussy when the female voice goes ‘keep going till you hit the spot’ you feel his hand on your back. “My desert flower… I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t do that. You try to stand up but his hand is pushing on your back. “Jamil…” you could hear him groan a bit. Then you knew you were in for a long night.

Vil

Song: unholy

Shakes his head.

Can’t help but watch you through the mirror of his vanity.

Curses under his breath in German tho mostly can hide how you are effecting him.

Till you drop down and back up hands lifting up your hair. Fluffing up and push out your hips.

You find yourself pinned to his bed. “V-Vil?” You call out his name. “Du bist ein ungezogenes Mädchen... hoffen wir, dass deine Beine halten können” your lover spoke in his native tongue. Your eyes widened as he said. You knew exactly what you were in for that night.

Idia

Song: S&M

He was trying to play his game why must you distract him.

His hair turning pink gave him away to tell you what you wer doing was working.

Had to turn his mic off.

Ultimately ended up losing turning his chair around right on time to see you bent over ass facing him as you slowly begain to rise up.

Idia got up from. Having an unknown burst of what you could could call. Brat taming energy. Suddenly getting knocked off your feet with your usually shy boyfriend on top of you. “Y/N… I hope you are prepared to face the consequences for making me lose that match.” The night was filled with edging and overstimulation. Crying out that it was too much, but him telling you that you could take it.

Malleus

Song: spiritual healing

When he first hears the name he doesn’t think much I’ve it.

When the real song starts he looks confused then he watches your movements.

At “the way she suck my soul I need some spiritual healing.” He watched how your hips moved.

Malleus placed his hands on your hips and you could feel his hard cocks against your thigh. “Child of man. You should know better then to rile me up like that…” Your eye widened. “Safe word?” He asked. “Strawberry” he nodded. “Good” and that was the last thing you remember

[anfie-in-the-box]

Be Who You Are (An Error Just Like Me)

Notes

A little something for @zu-is-here (: Thanks for the request! It was a bit difficult at first, but today inspiration hit hard and I couldn't help but write, write, write. It was amazing, and I'm quite proud of the result.

。。。

For one too many times, Blueberrory stumbles on something he doesn't see and groans, frustrated, caught in Error's strings so he doesn't fall and possibly break a bone or two. Error laughs at him, glitching slightly, but helps Blueberrory regain his balance.

“Ugh. Ho-o-ow?” he mutters with barely concealed irritation. He's definitely become moodier as an error. He wonders if it would ever go away. 

“You want me to teach you how to navigate the Anti-Void? That's what I'm doing,” Error says, still giggling — and glitching, just a tiny bit. Blueberrory can't help but smile fondly. Oh, to slowly but surely learn to understand Error's twisted mind… He enjoys Blueberrory's struggles very much, but he also cares, and he also wants Blueberrory to succeed. If only to prove he's the best teacher and guide in the Anti-Void. And because they're becoming friends. 

“There's this one tiny little thing that I don't understand,” Error says, now frowning. 

“Am I missing something?” Blueberrory asks with hope. Maybe Error is finally tired of his games of vague charades? But he stands up and spreads his hands. 

“Come here and hug me.” 

Hope is a stupid feeling indeed. Error hates physical contact and barely knows how to soothe the feeling — before Blueberrory he didn't even have the clothes that would suit his needs. And now he just stands there, almost demanding a hug? Blueberrory knows Error's not the most stable person around, but this… 

Nonetheless, Blueberrory comes closer and… He's not sure what happens next, but stars, he's glitching like crazy. It doesn't hurt though, not at all, and then it ends as fast as it has started. And he finds himself a tiny little bit away from Error, though Blueberrory can swear he was close to him, closer than Error ever allowed. 

“What… What was that?!” Blueberrory shouts, startled. 

“Stupid, don't you realise that's your main advantage here in the Anti-Void?” Error makes a dissatisfied face, but there's a certain sparkle in his mismatched eye-lights. He enjoys knowing more and understanding better. And Blueberrory will be his favourite subject for a rather long time — he's a fast learner, but now that his nature and soul have changed, he has a lot of things to either learn or relearn. Like navigating his new home.

“I don't understand,” Blueberrory says after a few deep breaths. He's still frustrated but not angry or bewildered to the point of shock. “What happened? Why am I farther from you than I was before, well, trying and failing to hug you, I suppose? Why did I glitch like that?”

Silence falls. At least Blueberrory isn't irritated anymore, and Error's thoughtful face soothes his soul even more. Blueberrory really, truly misses the times patience came naturally to him. But he'll do his best anyway. And besides, that part of him is deep inside, more than a memory, less than an illusion — a part of his experience, a part of his past, long gone. Blueberrory isn't the magnificent Sans.

Error laughs loudly and Blueberrory takes a step back, startled. 

“You're so funny,” Error finally says when his laughter ceases. “Wonder whether I would be as funny if I had someone to look after me.”

Blueberrory perks up. Error doesn't talk about his past, or, well, his past in the Anti-Void. He loves telling stories about the AUs he once destroyed, or the AUs that managed to attract his attention and therefore stayed. The latter ones were far and between at first, but as Error learnt to tame his insanity, he found beauty and fascination in more and more things. He found his own reasons to grant mercy, as twisted as those reasons are.

“What's funny, then?” Blueberrory asks calmly. 

“That you really don't understand!” Error grins. “What happened is one of your own ways to be an error. Congratulations! Now you know what to master!”

Blueberrory sighs. Error's words still don't make any sense, though they really should. But that's fine, Blueberrory is still getting used to… everything, really. Error knows that, so Blueberrory will get his answers. Sooner or later, one way or another. 

“I see you're not getting it.” This time, Error quickly goes to Blueberrory and touches his shoulder. 

Well, he tries to. Blueberrory doesn't even get a moment to react. He's glitching again, and he's a few steps away from Error. Again. 

“Most errors can't touch living beings, as far as I know,” Error finally starts to explain with words. “But you? Oh, how I envy you, little Berry! You can't touch anything, not in the state you're in right now.”

“But I… I stumble on… whatever it is in the Anti-Void?..” Blueberrory mumbles, then grimaces — he's meant to sound coherent and confident, not like this. 

“Of course you do! That's why I said you've got to master your ways to be an error. They're advantages as much as they are obstacles.”

“So what you mean is… There's a way to cheat?”

“Sure, call it like that, why not! We are errors, but we are also hackers. The Anti-Void loves those who know the rules, but it loves those who set their own rules even more.”

“What is yours, then? Advantage and obstacle, I mean.” 

Error tenses for a moment — Blueberrory doesn't even start regretting his decision to ask. Enough is enough. But Error answers slowly, “My vision. Without the glasses, I see more. Or, well, differently.”

Blueberrory hums, not letting this show of Error's trust and honesty go unnoticed but also not focusing attention on his words. 

What feels like hours later (though you never know with the Anti-Void), Blueberrory still stumbles here and there, but sometimes he doesn't, glitching out of the way — and gets a standing ovation from Error, slightly mocking yet genuinely proud. What a mix.

“Be who you are — an error just like me,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Blueberrory hears it anyway. He makes a promise to himself to become the second best error ever. The first is Error himself, of course.

So much to learn, so much to see, and Blueberrory won't be alone. Lucky him.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Error and Blueberror © loverofpiggies

。。。

Notes

There's a few references here and there. The title is a slightly corrected line from Hazbin Hotel song Loser, Baby.

"Hope is a stupid feeling" is a belief from a series of Russian books that I like a lot, though I don't fully agree with this particular notion. Still interesting to look for situations where it works.

Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

P. S. Requests are still open!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

✨️Bodhi durran ✨️ that's it.

BUT ALSO

Imagine him being the most amazing boyfriend. I don't know if you have seen lockwood and co on Netflix but that scene where lockwood dresses Lucy's wounds and is looking dead ass deep in her soul smiling, my god bodhi material.

To get to my point if you could write a one shot of bodhi finding out you're injured and going ballistic to anyone that let her out of their sight and got hurt and then finding you trying to wrap your wounds and instantly going all soft and helping I would be forever in your debt

Ps. If you haven't watched lockwod and co it's absolutely worth it.

I haven't watched the show so if this isn't exactly how you pictured this, I apologize✨🤍

Worries

"Where is she?", Bodhi yanked onto one of the recruits, who was in the same formation as you, shirt up. The poor lad looked like he was about to shit himself at best as he stumbled over words. The thing was... Bodhi was fun and games until he wasn't. And that wasn't part come a lot sooner than expected. Considering that the past weeks of him being a section leader had been rather calm. But that sorry fuck just had to show off. Had to break formation. Had to try to prove his piss poor ego and get you hurt.

"You're speechless all of a sudden?", Bodhi shook the guy in his grip, "Answer the goddamn question before you end up like a roasted chicken on the solstice table". You could hear a pin dropping in the background that's how silent the squad had gotten. "I think I saw her entering the building", some other recruit cut in. Bodhi narrowed his eyes, "You think or you saw?", shoving the quivering male he stepped aside sizing everyone up.

"You weak shits better listen and better listen well", he practically growled through gritted teeth. His first instinct was to run after you. He saw the blood gushing from your hand after the coalition. But he also knew his title. Causing a bigger scene than necessary would only turn heads your way. And neither of you needed that. Neither of you wanted to become a target leading to one another. "If any of you will ever do anything similar to what Marco did today", Bodhi grunted. Gods, he felt like Xaden. "I will skin you myself and believe me your dragons will smoke you alive. Dismissed", he practically roared as the recruits hurried away. Bodhi ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.

"She is up in your room", the voice made Bodhi jolt slightly. Garrick was leaning against one of the pillars. "I passed her, she's fine, man", Garrick continued to speak since Bodhi just stood there, "You did well here too. More and more like our beloved Xaden every day". He knew it was a dig. The two cousins had been compared ever since their interactions were brought to the daylight. "Why don't you go fuck yourself", Bodhi grunted as he walked past his friend. "Gets boring after a while", Garrick chirped in return. Bodhi simply snarled but that of course earned a satisfied chuckle from Garrick.

"Show it to me", the sudden bag of the door practically hitting the wall and the raised voice made you drop the blood-soaked rag. You knew Bodhi was gonna find you eventually. Your dragon was practically counting the minutes for you ever since you had flown back first and dismounted. "Bodhi, it's okay", you tried to keep your voice calm. The wound wasn't all that bad it was the angle and the damaged tissue of the skin that caused it to bleed so much. "Don't you it's okay, me", he grunted, "Show me", his voice was lethal low. He never used that tone with you. It was his section leader's voice. The voice he gave a report in. But it never was showcased around the people he trusted and cared for.

"There's nothing to look at it's...", "I didn't ask, I gave you an order", he cut in, grabbing your upper arm gently so he could look at the damage himself. Bodhi's eyebrows knitted together for a moment, his jaw flexed. "Sit", he muttered motioning towards the bed. "Bodhi", you breathed out. "Baby, I swear to everything holy to me", he exhaled a shaky breath, "you either sit or I am carrying to the healer's wing and will put you on bed rest for a week". You huffed at his threat but you knew that he wasn't bluffing so you followed his orders.

Bodhi was so gentle as he carefully wiped away some of the blood before pressing a clean bandage on your cut, securing it in place. Make sure it's tight for a couple of hours before the bleeding slows down. He would redo it in a couple of hours. Wash it off with a salve he would go ask for. Then another bandage. Then... "Bodhi, I can hear you making plans in your head", you muttered. It was cute watching him fuss at times. It was his way of showing love but you also knew that his head was a wild space and it only took one bad thought to have it all spiraling out of control. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you need something for the pain?", he asked, his concerned eyes searching yours. "Start by giving me a hug and then sit down with me", you said softly, "I promise, I'm fine". You reached out for him, taking his hand into yours, squeezing it.

"I just hate seeing you hurt", Bodhi breathed out, his shoulders drooping. "The feeling is mutual but there are times we can't do anything about it", you reached to run your fingers through his messy curls. That now was completely out of control since he no doubt had been pulling at them. "Do we have a murder scene in the backyard?", you nudged your boyfriend's shoulder, making him snort. "Not yet but we might...", Bodhi exhaled, turning to face you.

"You promise you're okay?", you met his worried gaze but this time instead of answering him you just leaned in and kissed him. Slowly and tenderly. Letting him feel your love. "Good enough proof?", you asked when you two finally broke apart. "Not sure... maybe a couple more kisses", Bodhi thoughtfully nodded his head. You giggled slightly before cupping his face once more.

[hypostatic-oath]

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.

[salemrph]

Breaking down "Where Drakeshadows Fall"

We are far from done, breaking down Sylus Myth. Grab pens and paper. This feels like connecting dots on a crime scene.

I came across this comment under a video on TikTok, the creator explains everything so well. Here is the video: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGd6j4Eb2/

@Gem: sylus mentions that one of those weapons in the cave was used 108 times or something, and I thought "maybe the 109th time it will actually work with MC" and then I thought "109....109??? 109!!"

I will try to connect every moment we have seen on the current timeline to reference the Myth. (If I'm forgetting something, leave it in the comments)

We start at the very beginning. Sit back this may be long.

Our first encounter.

Violent, just like the first time they met in the Abyss.

MC attacks Sylus with her knife, cutting under his eye.

He strangles her. In the Myth, she is the one—

The voice in her head urging her to claim the power inside Sylus’s eye.

"After all, you and I are the same. True kindred spirits." This hit different too. Now that we know that they're bond by their soul.

And again, the second attempt. He hands her the gun and pulls the trigger himself. MC doesn’t truly want him to die, so she presses against the wound, and Sylus heals.

"Save that for the day you actually succeed in killing me."

Main Story: Cap. 1-8

MC and Stylus are at Philip's Lab (I think that was the name of the Shopkeeper). So, Sylus is desperate to resonate. And Philip is just like "she is either rejecting you, scared of you or disgusting by you..."

Um… yeah, that must’ve hurt. A lot.

There she is—his beloved, weak, without her memories, and outright rejecting him. Maybe he’s angry at her, but maybe he’s also furious about whatever happened to bring them to this point.

We know he isn't a patient man.

Main Story: Chapter 2-1

Little Girl "... He's a monster with huge wings that never dies. And he has horns!"

Midnight Stealth

MC sneaking in the cave, where Sylus was laying on the a pile of treasures. Obviously he caught her because her footsteps were too noise. Well, we have the same with the brooch.

Sylus recreating the scenario with MC, playing that game to get the brooch. Which I think never was important. He would have helped us, anyways, right?

Oh, and the drawing of Sylus with horn and tail.

The Auction: Chapter 2-10

Of course we have the flashback to the Myth before MC is finally able to resonate with Sylus.

"That life you own me—now is not the time to repay me."

When they return to the base, the MC brings up her vision, asking if it was real. His response:

"If I say yes, will you give me a sincere apology?"

I suppose the apology would be related to the curse—like, "Hey, you killed me, and then you brought me back. So…"

Nightplumes

"Do you know what you look right now?"

We hear in both the same sentences. I just love Nightplumes.

Midnight Warmth

"I want to leave a mark too"

Even if he isn't a vampire, the need to leave a mark on MC. Argh... Just beautiful.

Continuous Symphony.

The song and the conversation.

*A wounded person might never wake up again if they fall asleep"

We have the dream and the song. I don't need to explain but...

MC asked him why he stopped playing the song and him replying "There is no “after”". Which is not the whole true. She refused to continue because it’s a requiem for the departed. Since he was injured because of her, she didn’t want to be the last thing Sylus heard.

"Sincere feelings are hard to forget"

Grassland romance

Both talking about where Home is...

"I can adapt to any location and call it home as long as I'm willing. But... now I have one condition. If you're not there then I am not interested"

I would relate this to their conversation and this dream-like memory we have in black Chapel. Being their home.

This happens in the Event of Grassland. When Sylus gives MC the self-made crown, maybe he is just responding to the flower MC put him in hair at the Chapel.

Melodic Weave

"Unfortunately... the string of fate connecting us can't be cut that easily."

Immobilized

The Snake analogy about their evol linkage, made me remind what MC said in the Myth: "...Sylus, did you already know that we would instinctively want to devour each other?"

This also a reference the curse they share.

"When two snakes are devouring each other, one will inevitably be crowned the victory"

I'm 90% sure that Sylus must know why the evol linkage appears.

"Does this mean, that one day, even without the linkage, you'll choose to stand by my side?"

Destiny Café

The Hand interaction: Sylus bites our / MC hand. Like she did before.

Heartbeat cheeking: "If our heart rates sync up, then maybe we can resonate" After bonding their soul, they were like one. More coordinated then begin just one. This made me think about Luke and Kieran. (That's another topic).

Outfit "Soft Distance": The Golden Crow's Feather of Eternity was something from the cave—can’t remember if it was a weapon or not. Either way, there’s a little nod to it in his outfit: a golden feather on his shirt that ties back to the artifact.

Maybe there is more, but I'm just Lvl 76 with Sylus.

Anecdotes

MC and Sylus are the two faces of the same coin. Is insane.

Searing Touch & Call: Remote Support

I'm mentioning the call because, with Searing Touch, we learn or in another way, he admits once more that MC is his biggest weakness.

"Who could ever do anything to me except you?" (Call)

After the Myth, we have the absolute and devastating confirmation: She is life and death for him. In the broadest sense.

MC asked him about why he was at that place. Half joking if it was because of her. Well...

"Yeah, you're right. I went there for you."

"I'd rather risk exposing my weaknesses when I protect you then see you injured."

Again, he would rather sacrifice himself...

Gem Hunting: Charon

No need to say much, the N109 Zone is basically Taurus City. No need for over-explaining.

If destiny continues their way, maybe MC will leave the Hunter Association. Maybe she’ll end up branded as a traitor. But like Sylus said, if she really wants to understand his world, she has to step beyond light and shadow.

Back to the event. I love their interaction and the style.

By the end, after finding the gem split in two, MC comes up with a great idea. She decides to use the gem and add it to the two bracelets she bought.

MC doesn’t care about the bad omen—in fact, she actually prefers it this way. Once again, she gives Sylus the curse of being tied to her forever.

"Living and dying by your side doesn't sound like a bad curse"

So that all, for now. Maybe I update this when I find more connecting points.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Idia Shroud - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: It hits so different when the real deal's right in front of me! I can feel my power level rising just by basking in these creators' true art!!

Summon Line: Phone's switched off while in the museum. I don't gotta worry about the daily missions on my mobile games, since I've cleared them all already. 'K, time to get going.

Groooovy!!: Everyone has a weakness or two. Obviously, that includes immortal heroes, too... Heehee.

Home: 100 years, not bad...

Home Idle 1: I can basically draft up designs and blueprints of tech systems using software, but when it comes to actually doing art... Basically, I'm more of a read-only type lurker.

Home Idle 2: That sleepy looking King of Beasts painting kind of reminds me of Leona-shi. Especially how it looks like he could pounce at any moment despite looking like he's not paying any attention.

Home Idle 3: I was surprised that I could buy whatever design of postcards I wanted from the shop. I'm so used to it just being something like 3 random cards in a pack out of a possible 50 or whatever...

Home Idle - Login: Hoards of art made by top-tier artists! Seeing it live is just a whole different sensation! Time'll just fly by here... I wonder if I can see 'em all.

Home Idle - Groovy: Crazy how Silver-shi can just spam the "praise" button over and over again without any charge time needed... I got no defenses on how to deal with this sort of thing.

Home Tap 1: If everything in life could be fixed just by singing Hakuna Matata, then I'd be a bright little extrovert by now...

Home Tap 2: I thought there was some sort of sparkling statue at the entrance to the cafe, but it was just Vil-shi checking out the menu.

Home Tap 3: So, it's true, then, that Ace-shi's got super nimble fingers? Not fair at all that on top of being a smooth-talker, he's also got that kinda dexterity.

Home Tap 4: This fit... It's way to shimmery for a gloomy guy like me... Eh, it works? U-Uh huh... Okay.

Home Tap 5: What do you want? If you want to try to get in the way of my nerd out, you're just asking to get your forehead flicked! And I'll be the one who has to do the flick... I bet you feel bad now, huh?

Home Tap - Groovy: C-Can you help me carry the merch I got from the shop to the storage lockers? Th-Thx... I'll grab you a coffee later.

Duo: [IDIA]: Silver-shi, thx. [SILVER]: Aye, Idia-senpai!

Birthday Login Message: Siiiigh... As expected, I didn't win a greeting from Premo's birthday present campaign. Looks like, as always, I'm just a poor soul that'll only get birthday wishes from my family and my games... EEK!? WHEN DID YOU GET HERE!? Eh, you came to wish me a happy birthday? I-Is that so...? Well, thanks. Wheehee.

Requested by Anonymous.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader

please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones

Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way.  Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵

Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem. 

I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN. 

THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot!  It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣

So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!

And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘

One. 一

The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.

It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.

You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.

Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet. His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music. “You’re new.”

Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"

Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your  curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.

“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.

"Yes, Mr. Mark."

Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well. Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance. “And you can handle them?”

"Yes, Sir."

Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again. “Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”

You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.

Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey. “I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”

You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.

Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.

He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet. 

He would see how long it takes to change that. He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.

He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…

Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.

He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.

“You like that one?”

“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items. 

He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”

“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least. 

“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.” 

“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.  

He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger. The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark. “Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.

"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."

Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats. His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.

Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”

Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”

“I follow…art news,” you confess.

He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”

You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…

“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”

He snorts in answer, shaking his head. 

“Does it make you happy?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.

Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“I see.”

“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.

You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet. 

“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.

“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.

He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.

His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that. 

And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it. 

The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid. 

He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.

He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.

He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch. He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.

He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.

“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid. 

“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.

He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything. 

Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you. 

“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out. 

Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.

Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub.  Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun. 

He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.

“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”

You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?" 

He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before. 

Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."

Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again. He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard. "That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?” 

“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.

“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.” 

“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?” 

You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well. 

“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you. 

“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work. 

“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why. 

“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him. 

“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.” 

“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately. 

It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh. 

“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you. 

Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea. 

“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.” 

He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable. 

“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”

Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…

He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”

“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun. 

He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work. 

Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.” 

With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house. 

The Smithsonian article about this vase...

Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...

Part 2 -->

all chapters

[kookies2000]

We all know this scene when Puss faces his past lives.

Spoilers

I'll be honest, something was disturbing in this scene when I first saw it. I'm rewatching the scene and trying to put my finger on it. Then it hit me. That Tik Tok comment I saw that said the Lost Souls were acting like the sins from the Bible. The connections people made from this film and toxic masculinity. This scene right here is oozing with toxicity and masculinity.

Before I go any further, I would like to say that I am not down-talking men. I'm analyzing this scene as a Mexican woman.

Anyways, here are some traits in toxic masculinity.

Self-reliance - Men believe they have to do all the work and handle everything by themselves. Independent at all times, they need no one. They believe doing things by themselves will make them successful in life. Being vulnerable will cause the man to be ridiculed. That's Puss throughout the film.

Promiscuous - There's nothing wrong with having sexual relations with others. If it's your thing, it's your thing. But there is such thing as too much of a good thing. Being flirtatious is ok, healthy even, but when it becomes very frequent or an obsession, it can lead to problems in forming long-term romantic relationships. Puss in a nut shell.

Being violent and dominant - Most men believe they have to be strong, physically mostly. So they take risks in life and try to beat others in their own game. Taking risks can be a way to demonstrate dominance. This can include gambling as well. Or dangerous sports. The cause of some of Puss deaths. Not to mention Death pretty much gave Puss a reality check. Puss isn't as strong as he thought he was.

And a big one, refusing to seek help when struggling - self-explanatory. Men try to be emotionless and never seek intimacy with others. Especially with other men as it's seen as a weakness.

All these traits are displayed in this scene. At first, it's fun for Puss because he remembers how much fun he had in his past lives. All the parties, lovers, drinks/food, adventures, risk-taking, everything. But once the adrenaline wears down, Puss knows it's time to leave. But of course, the Lost Souls don't let him. They try their best to convince him to leave Perrito and Kitty and get his lives back. They straight up tell him he doesn't need them and he's better alone. But at this point, Puss already formed a bond with Perrito and is reconnecting with Kitty. He remembers his regrets and this is what makes him determined to go back.

I guess the Souls notice this and start to ridicule Puss for being so vulnerable. Which is something I pointed out already in self-reliance. Men get teased and made fun of if they show even an ounce of vulnerability. Men can't have intimacy with their friends, let alone friends who are men. Men can't be held down by marriage. It sounds over the top but it does happen. I've seen it happen in the past in my household.

Men are also pushed to be physically and emotionally strong. Which is what Puss was trying to do as well. He didn't want to be afraid. He didn't want help and was a lone wolf. He refused to seek help when struggling. Thankfully for him, Perrito was a very determined guy. He followed Puss and helped him become more vulnerable and to open up more. Fixing his relationship with Kitty and becoming fiends.

So yeah, this scene was something alright. Puss was already developing at this point of the film. And then they made him face just how toxic he was being in his past lives. It almost felt like torture for him. But this is an important step in developing into someone better. You have to face your past some time and realize your mistakes so you don't make them again.

Ps, Antonio's voice acting here was incredible. Voicing nine different Puss while making each one unique. From the tone of voice to personality. He deserves some recognition for this scene.

[bluedogxl]

holy fucking shit i just got done with doctor4t’s latest content smp video. now i thought i’d never get invested enough in any sort of minecraft smp to feel the need to post about it but my god. i get it. i sat down to a 3-and-a-half hour minecraft smp slash modmaking video and it handed me my ass and a box of tissues.

(uhh. spoilers under the cut. also a lot of rambling i just have a lot to say about silly block game guy #8247247)

r4t usually being casual and jokey about the lore and story of the server is kind of what made him fun to watch, to me? like it’s obvious he cares about it, but he’s just detached enough to make him, well… approachable? i guess, as a casual viewer. a good on-ramp. i mean, his grudge with arathain (the thing tying him to basically everything in the story) started over netherite spawn rates of all things. it never felt too dense. and it’s fun to see him scheme over his revenge plots and code mods to facilitate them, but it was obvious it was all a game to him. he has fun with the lore (see the anchorblade video) but it feels like an excuse to make cool mods and play some good minecraft.

at the end of this one? holy fucking shit. i was actually about to start crying in empathy.

r4t lost basically his best friend. she sacrificed her life to save his, the same way he sold his soul to save her, and she’s gone. her anchorblade, too, easily the most significant symbol of their friendship and the tool that she used to save him, was taken or erased by a glitch or something, and the whole time he’s processing it and snapping at arathain (who’s here again? somehow?) and dragging her skull back to the cabin and building her grave and mourning her, he just… felt like he stopped doing a bit and became fully immersed in his world. the way he says how he didn’t really take the other deaths seriously, and then calls himself a monster? killed me. pronounced me goddamn stone dead. this man has acting chops. this man, for a whole like ten minutes, truly had me mourning someone who was banned from a minecraft server like she was actually six feet in the ground.

and just. the way it’s put together. so beautiful. the man’s a master of editing. i kept noticing throughout the whole thing that the portal transitions were getting so smooth. and i mean, it’s nothing super flashy or anything. it’s just… good, and solid.

to be honest, i think the video’s length helped sell it all for me. time and time again, dramatic turn after dramatic turn, we see these low points, and yeah they suck, but then you check the bar and there’s still like an hour left and you go ‘aw man i wonder how they’re gonna get out of this one!’ and then you get to lux dying, and you see r4t build her grave and bawl his eyes out and you check the bar and there’s minutes. this is the end of the book. this is the note we’re leaving off on. like, there’s still more to do. blake’s out there still, arathain’s back(?), asai is apparently in on this (i just remembered r4t offhandedly mentioning asai being on with winsweep what the fuuuuckkkkk), and so on and so forth. but that’s for next time. today’s chapter is over. get out of the theater. for some reason that just made it all hit harder.

god at the end of the day i just love this insane goddamn soap opera of a minecraft server. how did this happen to me i just wanted to see funny maid rat guy make silly mods to blow up his friends

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch (The Untamed) 2/?

The crowd picked two blacklisted shows for me to watch during Pride, so even though the first series took me only three days to get through, the second one is taking some time since I went out this past week and touched some grass for Pride. However, I did watch an episode a day AND spotted something on sale while out and about.

Fun Fact: These are 200 pages EACH, and they only cover what has been shown up until episode five. I teach English, not math, but doing some simple addition, dividing over A, carrying the Y, and solving for X, I have guessed that this series is going to be 20 books long! TWENTY! AT LEAST! Basically, it's going to be as long as this long-ass series.

*presses play on episode six*

These idiots are drunk, loud, and fighting. They are breaking rule #36, #265, and #1. Even I know that!

When you realize you're in love with a virgin who is a light-weight and can't even drive after talking about intimacy while touching his headband. I take back everything I said about this show. It's gay. Like real gay. Gay gay.

Fuddy Duddy is better than me because I would not have taken that beating, but that's probably why he is an elite Cloud Cunt or whatever, and also why he has now been blessed with Wei Wuxian trying to cuddle in this freezing water while talking about his "extremities" shivering. Note: In the comics, we see that Fuddy Duddy is BRANDED (like as in marked by burning the flesh) and has A SHIT TON OF SLASHES ON HIS BACK (like as in whipped . . . BY A FUCKING WHIP). Basically, this Cloud Cult is batshit crazy.

These two are fighting literal demons. But also the demons are homosexuality.

THEY TIED THEMSELVES TOGETHER WITH THE INTIMACY BAND! If it was red, it'd be game over for China!

Y'all cute but your kid is still an asshole, and there is a queer plot brewing. GET OUT OF MY FACE!

They were lesbian lovers, and I will not be entertaining any other reason for all of this because only a lesbian would tie her soul for eternity to a musical instrument just so she doesn't have to admit she was wrong to her wife, while her wife goes on to train the most elite squad of wizards just to one day help her wife because she already predicated her wife would fuck up. This is love.

Correction since my boy asked AGAIN if he could harness evil power for good - One of them is fighting demons, the literal and homosexual kind, and one is embracing them both, openly, with no fucks given.

And she knows! Not about the homosexual part, but about the "finding the stone hidden in the rock" part (but probably the homo part too)

Wei Wuxian lied for you when you got out of the rock. He touched your headband. And now he has touched your soul. Stop fighting it. Embrace this. It's Pride Month.

Wei Wuxian drinks, parties, talks shits, and backs it up. I'm getting flashbacks to Spring Break in South Padre. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. But the hands were always ready to hit their mark.

My boy is Catholic. Fuddy Duddy took 300 hits earlier to uphold the integrity of his Cloud Cult or whatever, but my boy was told his punishment and is merely going through the motions since he doesn't regret laying hands on his future in-law. He said "tell me how many Hail Marias I need to say, so I can go play with the ants and get a tan." Same.

First, your best friend brought the bird into the class and now you took the bunnies to remind Fuddy Duddy of "those four amazing hours you spent in the hot tub together after Winter Formal." Y'all are schemers, and this will cause problems later. I've taught too many freshmen. Y'all need to be separated before you plot the end of the world and animals have to be sacrificed. I see the signs.

Who is going to kill this man? WHO?! Let it be a woman because he needs to be reminded he is insignificant and useless.

Oh my God, they found each other! I knew my boy would go after his boy, but for his Bird Bestie to spot them too?! These two idiots are going to cause havoc and hijinks.

Y'all are so Romeo and Juliet coded, it hurts my feelings. Girl, you're going to die and he is going to be sad about it. But can you kill that red asshole first? Please.

Sir, now you and I both know some shit is about to go down because that florist's house was crispy fried burnt, that woman outside was creepy as hell, and these two are over there chatting about soul snatchers. GET OUT OF THERE, FD, AND TAKE THE ANIMAL BROS WITH YOU!

FD might have the brains and the silencing charm, but my boy got the moves. He has that Spider Man magic string thing, he has the Shrek gingerbread men, and he keeps making spells out of thin air. Maury, who is his daddy? God?! THE DEVIL?!

SHE CAN PLAY A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT TOO! Hold up. HOLD UP! Fuddy Duddy's brother played it to calm everyone down. FD played his to subdue the zombies. And now she did too, but my boy's flute playing skills not only calmed the zombie, but controlled him. Did he learn it from her?!

Girl, what are you doing at the devil's sacrament?

Wen Qing has been holding off this fucking bird and these zombies all night, and these boys have been doing what at their slumber party? Braiding each other's hair? She better be the one to kill that red asshole. She deserves the body count. *wink, Jiang Cheng*

The bird needed to go, but this is what I'm talking about with him and his bird bestie. Homie closed his eyes and felt his feelings because FD told him to, then pretended to be dead just so he could kill that bird. It's smart as well as scary because how much power does he really possess? A shit ton. That's how much. But also, why didn't they take the dead bird with them? Don't leave behind magical creatures to be brought back to life!

Smart to have the others chase after a chicken, so the color-coded boys in love could get more details, but these two are a hetero version of the mains. She is not bad. She is trying to do good with what she has, which is a pile of shit, and he wants to do right by her but his principles are going to get in the way. I anticipate no happy endings for anyone. Not Romeo and Juliet or Romeo and Julio.

Bird Bestie was smart to stay behind because it was obvious there would be dead bodies, but WHO THE FUCK ARE THESE TWO?! This show is color-coded within an inch of its life, and everyone is a pair because they both have the other's color in their robes, so the fact that the white one showed up first and claimed evil guy was his enemy makes me think they have history (exes), but the new black guy replaced him. Black dude, I'd watch my back because Evil Dude is coming for you.

It also worries me that these two have a similar . . . something. Wei Wuxian, buddy, homie, ho-migo. You're getting darker. You were dark blue, but now, you're black. Why is no one else concerned that the call is about to come from within the house?

So much shit is going down on this mountain! White No Name dude just said he knows and was trained by the OG lesbian, so we know she is still alive and well waiting for her wife, and my boy is sad since his mama was trained by her therefore he was trained by her, which makes her his grandma or something (I DON'T KNOW!). And now the illegitimate brother I want to be with FD's brother is in charge of watching the evil dude, but he is wearing white/blue and evil dude is wearing black/gold, and if they become an item, I'm gonna be pissed!

Y'all, he is gonna fuck up. He is going to let the bad guy go isn't he? I don't understand why they couldn't kill the bad guy, but my illegitimate son has been disrespected in this house too many times in the past ten minutes to let this shit slide. He is going to make a deal with the devil. I feel it.

"I'll sleep on your roof" - That was a declaration of love because y'all fought on a roof over liquor, and now he wants to just chill on your roof while drinking even though you are leaving. He is sprung and does not care who knows.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! THIS IS A FUCKING SHIT SHOW! The oldest kids are being called away which means Fuddy Duddy's cult is probably losing it and branding everyone. They are being attacked by the Evil Reds even though their evil dude admitted to killing that whole damn family! My illegitimate son DEFINITELY killed that guy and let the evil dude go. He did that. I know he did. And my boy's outfit looks so similar to that evil red swordsmen who is fighting on behalf of that weak ass red bitch because he can't fight himself, it's ridiculous (Someone needs to slash that evil red dude's face and his tires).

Everyone is going to die, and there is no hope.

*eats some naan*

Okay, maybe there is some hope in the other FORTY EPISODES! FD's brother could take in the illegitimate son, and they could live happily ever after. Right? RIGHT?!

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 31)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (29)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN eventually managed to find a car park and carefully park Lucy’s car. Still no phone call. It was now 6pm.

She turned the car off and sighed her stress, placing her head on the steering wheel. She didn't want to text, and now she didn’t want to call. Was Lucy ashamed that she’d been caught on camera with Ona? Was their relationship more serious than she realised and Lucy just didn’t know how to tell her? Was she just a convenient fling in England for her? Perhaps an easy break without emotional complications was for the best.

“You’re okay,” she whispered to herself. She heard her tears hit the centre of the steering wheel. “You’re going to be okay. This is why we don’t let people in, Blue.” She sniffled. “It hurts right now but we’re going to be fine. We always are.”

Talking to herself out loud always helped her when she was a kid, trying to understand the strong, scared emotions her father stirred in her, and she’d carried that on into adulthood.

She sniffed again and lifted her head, wiping her tears and attempting a smile for her colleagues. She knew that if she stayed in that car, she’d just fall further into that emotional wreck, and so she grabbed her equipment and entered the stadium.

The game hadn’t even begun yet, it was scheduled for 6:45pm, so she had time to get through security with her pass and head to the bathroom where she tidied herself up and made the decision to take Lucy’s hoodie off, and switch to a Lumos hoodie. It just felt like the right thing to do. She folded it carefully and placed it in her workbag, with the intention of leaving it at Lucy’s apartment that night. She figured it would make sense to leave the keys there as well, though her main concern was the car. She didn’t have one.

YFN: Hi Joe, any chance I can take you up on that previous offer for a work vehicle?

Joe was always working. She replied almost instantly.

Joe: Absolutely! I’ll get onto that first thing in the morning.

Joe: Also, I’ve had a look through the footage from tonight. It’s excellent.

YFN: Thank you, I appreciate it.

YFN: You picked some incredibly talented people for the job.. I can already see a need for a lot more people.

Joe: Just let me know what you need. I have a lot of faith in this.

YFN knew Joe was someone who poured her heart and soul into whatever she did. She was intelligent and a smart businesswoman, though the words from the twat, Mark, at the Charity Event had stuck with her. She knew she had to ask Joe what he’d meant when he’d mentioned “the controversy she brings”, though she knew it was best for another night, and perhaps not over message.

YFN: I do too. I was also roped into doing our first interview with a few of the Arsenal and City players. I’ll send you the rough footage now.

Joe: Looking forward to it!

YFN sent the footage and entered pitch side where the teams were warming up and was happy that the weather wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been the previous matches. Emily spotted her first and came over to chat about the best photo spots, while Bridget was scouting around the entire edging of the pitch the find the best video positions. She eventually looped back around to them to join in on the work discussions.

It was during their discussions that YFN noticed a photographer taking footage of them all together. She’d never been to Broadfield Street Stadium before and so she assumed it was perhaps someone from media for one of the teams, however he was incredibly persistent and focussed on the Lumos trio. YFN didn’t want to worry the girls, and so she finished up their discussions and let them get back to getting footage of the players during their warms ups.

As warm-ups finished, YFN took a few final photos of the teams and looked down at the images, proud of the action shots. It was then that she noticed Mary Earps walking over to her. She’d spoken to Mary at the pub quite a lot, having been introduced through the England squad. She was the goalkeeper for Man United, and for the Lionesses. Mary, Queen of Stops.

“Hey, you! Good to see you! How are you mate?” She went straight in for a hug. Mary was lovely and caring, as always.

“Hey Mary. I’m great besides the very long day I’m having.” She laughed. “You were looking pretty solid in warm ups.”

“Aw thanks mate!” She said enthusiastically, hands still on her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

“I have no idea how you jump so high or so quick and the speed that you get up… I was worn out just watching you!”

She laughed at that. “Aw you’re too kind..” then she whispered, “I’ll give you a tenner later.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “Still struggling to accept compliments, I see!”

“Always mate. It’s just so awkward! Anyways, you girls are looking so cute in your little merch. Any chance I could have a beanie?”

“Oh course.” YFN chuckled and grabbed a beanie from her merch bag before putting it on the keeper herself. “Look at that!”

“Do I look cute?” She asked cheekily. “I look cute, don’t I?”

“You’re adorable.” She laughed. “Do they put you up in hotel overnight for these late night games?”

“Oh, yeah. They’ve booked us in London though so it’s a bit of a travel. Late night for us. Where are you staying?”

“London also.” She shrugged. “We probably won’t be home until 11pm.”

Mary groaned and she joined in. They bantered for a little longer until Mary was called into the training rooms and ran away excitedly with her little beanie on.

The game was fairly evenly matched, which was a surprise as Man United were a notoriously a hard team to beat. Because it was so back and forth, the Lumos crew including YFN found themselves running up and down the field for the best footage. It was almost comical. Almost.

At half time, Brighton were up 1-0 and Mary looked disappointed in herself, regardless of the fact that she’d made some incredible saves. Following the break, there was a 2nd yellow given to yet another United player, and it wasn’t until both teams had made multiple substitutions that the next goal was scored, and it was a United goal. 10 minutes later Brighton scored their 2nd, however United managed to equalise again in over time, ending it in a 2-2 draw.

The whole game was entertaining, especially watching Mary have to make so many saves, but also uncomfortable as YFN kept noticing that one photographer who was still taking photos of Lumos around the pitch. She didn’t understand until when they were nearing the end of the game, and she saw a businessman in a suit talking to the photographer and pointing to her. She hadn’t recognised him as he walked down from the crowd, but she had when she saw them talking a little closer to her. It was Mark. Mark from the Charity Event. The one who had basically warned her about Joe without actually warning her. He looked up from his photographer and caught YFN’s eye. Usually it would be normal to smile and wave, but he didn’t. He simply stared with an expression on his face that she couldn’t decipher. Whatever it was, it wasn’t positive.

From then on, she tried to move further away, working her way around the edge of the pitch, however the photographer was always close behind, following her. She felt uneasy, however she was glad he was focussed on her and not her colleagues. She tried to keep him far away from them.

At the end of the game, Mary came back over for her usual, friendly chat and brought Katie Zelem and Ella Toone with her. They were all Lionesses, having played in major tournaments together, and she'd met them all at the pub, so it was a great, natural banter they had about the game. Somehow, she was also roped into doing an interview with the three of them, after Mary had seen that she’d interviewed others and insisted on it, fakely threatening favouritism if YFN didn’t. Bridget came over, they set them up with mics and the ‘interview’ was basically a good chat about all things in the match. YFN realised how much she loved the dynamic of interviewing multiple players who would tease each other and bounce off each other. It was the perfect, relaxed setting. She also made sure to not ask too many questions about the game, preferring that the girls talk about whatever they wanted to about the game to avoid the typical media response. It wasn’t lost on her, however, that Mark’s photographer was filming everything. She put on a brave face for the camera, smiling and laughing with the girls, but felt uneasy.

They all parted ways and Bridget, Emily and YFN didn’t hang around long as they’d all had long days. It was now 9:30pm and they still had a 90 minute drive back to London. They agreed to do their editing tomorrow and call it a night. As YFN entered the car, the hair on the back of her neck stood up as she saw a car parked behind her, on and idling, as if waiting for her to leave. It was strange because most of the car park was already empty, and it was right behind her. One look in the driver’s seat and she could see who it was. The photographer.

She tried to keep her fear under control as she entered Lucy’s car and locked the doors. She immediately felt better but that all went away when she found herself on the M23 being followed.

She told herself to calm down and that they were probably taking a different exit, but they weren’t. They followed her to the M25 and all the way back to towards Lucy’s apartment.

YFN was starting to get scared and ran a cheeky orange light to lose them, which worked. She parked up Lucy’s car and entered the apartment, feeling like she didn’t belong. She turned the lights on and put the keys down near the entrance as she wandered into the beautifully modern place with her overnight bag over her shoulder. She looked around briefly and was reminded of the few happy memories. Sex here. Flirting there. Making out here. Massaging Lucy’s knee there. Making breakfast there.

She shook her head as if it would remove those memories and entered the guest bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to use Lucy’s bedroom. The one they’d cuddled in and done much worse things in. She unpacked the few items from her overnight bag and looked at the time. Just after 11pm. She needed sleep. She quickly showered and then got dressed into a pair of pajama shorts and a loose top by itself, no bra.  And socks, of course. She always needed socks.

She went to get some water and then found herself fighting a losing battle and letting curiosity and her emotions get the better of her as she entered Lucy’s room. She didn’t pry, she just… looked. Remembered. Then she went into the bathroom which was still filled with Lucy’s face care all lined up and… a blue toothbrush. Like the one she’d left at Jordan’s. YFN picked it up slowly and stared at it before her lips trembled and she gave in to those emotions from the previous few days.

“You’re okay.” She whispered to herself in between sobs. “You’re okay… it’ll pass, remember? You’ve got this.”

Suddenly she heard the front door and ran out as far as Lucy’s bedroom door to see the front door handle shaking, someone palying with the lock. The photographer? Or Mark? She didn’t call out because that would be an admittance that she was in fact there in the apartment. Instead her reaction was to close Lucy’s bedroom door quietly and then move into her bathroom, shutting that and entering the shower. None of the doors had locks and she’d never been more frustrated or scared in her life. She stood in the shower with her back to the corner of the wall, and looked down at the blue toothbrush that was her only form of defence. She couldn’t fight a man.. especially with her being so small.

She heard footsteps and could feel her body shaking as the bathroom door swung open.

[sekai-headcanoning]

I HC that Mafuyu and Honami are decently close (and by that I mean Honami knows who Mafuyu really is under the whole “responsible upper-class woman” act) mostly because she’s been living with Kanade and because Honami might not understand fully what Mafuyu’s going through but she understands what it’s like to not be able to be your true self. (I also HC that Honami had a slight identity crisis similar to Mafuyu’s during middle school and constantly changing herself to not be bullied made her lose track of who she was- but that’s a HC for later)

I also think that Honami’s comforting presence and soft voice would remind Mafuyu of Kanade and, by extension, safety. Similar to her relationship with Shizuku, it lessens the burden of always having to put up a front and be a more authentic version of herself which is what will ultimately help her heal.

Honami had always seen Mafuyu as a brilliant, and sometimes scary, senior like many of the other students do, but once she started seeing Mafuyu at Kanade’s house more and more and Kanade asked her to cook for two people now, she got a better idea of the situation. She doesn’t know the full details (mainly how the VS played a part in helping Mafuyu escape) but Kanade’s told her that Mafuyu had a argument with her mother and needs to stay here for a while to figure herself out. Honami of course understands and does everything she can to help Mafuyu, like trying to figure out her favorite meals or try to set up a schedule like she made for Kanade.

It’s small acts like this that didn’t seem like much at first, but like all things, added up overtime. A quiet understanding, a soft promise to try and be more authentic.🪼

-🌌(I hope I did the anon thing right please correct me if not ;_;)

MAN. This hit me in my heart. My soul. This genuinely feels like such a good story concept, I would’ve loved to actually see something like this in game. I want to see Mafuyu open up and be more authentic around others, THIS. THIS IS THE STUFF I WANT COLORPAL.

(And yes, you did it correctly‼️)

[yesihaveaobsession]

Looped In Time

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Like Groundhog Day the reader (you) are experiencing a endless time loop, she asks The Radio Demon to get her out but that involves a deal.

Y/N- Y'all might argue and say, " Groundhog Day." but the real ones know it's actually "Mystery Spot."

You woke up again. Again? Yes. You found yourself trapped in an endless time loop, with no idea why. Each time, you died in the most outlandish ways: Frank, Sir Pentious's Egg Boi, shot a lasher, it hit you, and then you woke up in your bed. Another time, Cherri Bomb threw a grenade in the hotel lobby, and there you were again... waking up in your bed. Normally, you'd have no idea what day it was in Hell... but you sure as hell knew it was Wednesday.

You wanted to pull your hair out at this point; you needed out. So, you went to look for the man you knew who could help you: the Radio Demon himself. Said demon was returning from his radio tower. He was much taller than you, so you practically had to jog to catch up with him. You didn't want him to disappear, so you shouted.

"Alastor! Just the guy I wanted to see." Alastor stopped and turned to face you with his smile. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Not wanting anyone else to hear what charade was tormenting you, you grabbed his claw and dragged him into your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it.

Alastor let out a chuckle. "That is one way to get your point across." Was he mocking you? You finally turned to face him. "I'm stuck, you baboon."

"Stuck?" He smiled, but his eyes showed confusion. "I'm stuck in an endless time loop that never ends, and I can't do anything about it!" You ran your hands through your hair, trying to catch your breath.

"That does not sound very pleasant at all." Maybe this was a bad idea. He seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. And God, did you hate it.

"No shit! I somehow die in the dumbest ways and wake up, and it's Wednesday. In fact, this is the hundredth Wednesday I've lived through!" Alastor sat on your bed with his legs crossed over each other. "Sounds... frustrating."

You finally looked over at the deer demon, who clearly was enjoying it by his grin. But he did want to help; he saw the desperate glint in your eyes. "You do realize that you are essentially in Hell currently, yes?"

Seriously? "Yes," You replied flatly. "And you know the only way to break the cycle, yes?" He stood from the bed and made his way over to you, clutching his cane, bending down and sliding a finger down your chest, then pausing and looking up at you.

"No, tell me." You gripped onto the flaps of his suit jacket desperately. Just where he wanted you. "Perhaps I can offer you a way out of this tiresome cycle. But, of course, everything comes at a price." Your giddiness came to an end when he said this. "I'm way smarter than making a deal with you." You replied, letting go of his suit and crossing your arms. To think this was the game that Alastor played. He also knew that getting through to someone looking for help like you was a lot easier.

"I assure you... the price is very reasonable..." He said with animated hand gestures. You were now glaring at him. Was this sensibly a price to pay? Although you weren't sure if he believed you or not. You didn't know how to get out. A part of you felt like Alastor put you in this to get something out of you.

"You're not getting my soul." You spoke. He smiled more. His arms were behind his back, and he started to circle around you, slowly, like you were his prey.

"Oh, you will not have to sell me your soul. Just your services, if you agree to my terms." Terms? What terms? You thought to yourself. You felt your heart start to pound in your chest. The tension between you and the seven-foot man was weighing down on you.

"Why do I feel like you're mocking me?" You pushed, knowing he was hiding something behind those yellow teeth. Alastor chuckled. "No mocking here." He let out a sigh before continuing. "Only a simple contract, and you'll be free of the time loop for good... at least, that is my offer." Alastor held out his hand, with his antlers growing from his head. You took a step back. "Do you have some demands that, if met, would break you out of the loop?"

"I was hoping you'd help me without a deal."

"That technically is not an option, my dear." His hand remained stretched out in front of him. You weighed your options. "Why?"

"Think of this situation as a business transaction, my dear. There are no freebies in this plane of existence. There is a price to pay for everything. And I am only being so generous to you because I want something in return, from you."

Either way, you needed out. "Deal." you replied and shook his hand, you woke up in your bed and looked at the clock it said Thursday, you let out a sigh of relief only to realize you don't know what you agreed to.