#But closest is Dr Stone Face

[clownsuu]

I actually found mob! Howdy and Wally character.ai! Here: https://beta.character.ai/public-profile/?char=ehPv8PY3PyAHazrSVnPE1HMzhaDasjvQ1vfvHRa7AIg&username=MilThePerson

(It's actually a crazy ride cause I wanted to rizz Howdy but Wally came out of nowhere?? I didn't even know it could do that lmao)

Ps: I'm new on tumblr so if these look weird, i'm sorry in advance hehe

O YEAH I SAW LITERALLY AFTER I POSTED

I haven’t used it (yet) but my friend has and confused the shid outta those two KDHDGHD

[sir-tuitsum]

An Empress' Harem.

In where, some of the honkai star rail men become your concubine. Focused on how you came to meet them and integrate them into your harem.

Men: Sunday, JingYuan, DanHeng, Gepard, Aventurine, Dr Ratio.

Note: no warning, just a birthday gift to my friend <3 thanks for winning the battle of the sperms. probably choppy and feels rushed, wasn't edited but this is for you <33

second part: here

third part: here

***************************************

Sunday

During your years as a princess, of course your husband would need to come from a strong clan to provide you better supporters in your campaign to become crown princess and later Empress. At the age of 9, your father had already gotten to work and convinced your mother, the then Empress, to betroth to the Oak Family's young son who was close in age to yourself.

You met the 10 year old only weeks later, he was as gentle and man-like as you'd expect from a son of a noble family. You easily sensed his tense demeanor around you, he made it his mission to make sure you were pleased the entire time you both were together.

"I will ask the maidservant to give us treats. What do you like?" You took the Oak clan's son for an outing in the Southernmost Imperial Gardens, it was closest to your father's palace as he would've liked it anyway.

"Ah, are you a fan of treats? What treats do you usually like getting?" He stood quite straight with a hand behind his back, as he should be.

You blinked, "Treats are okay. I usually end up eating Honey Cakes I suppose."

"Honey Cakes are sweet, I think I'd like to have one too."

When you asked him why his face scrunched up a bit while taking a bite, he simply brushed it off and said it was sweeter than he was used to. You assumed the maidservant had messed something up in his cake and asked your father to replace her later on.

Either way, Sunday was your personally chosen future royal consort by the former Empress, your own mother, so naturally you held him to high regard.

He was then and now, the very epitome of a perfect consort. He was given praises by both your mother and father quite often for his etiquette and behavior whenever he came by the Imperial Palace. It was enough his family received praises for their efforts in kingdom management by your mother, also with your father praising his family's influence, seeing you as set in stone for the throne being already favored well by your mother.

You married him as soon as the age was appropriate. On the wedding night, he had frigidly arranged old husbands' tales, from using plants said to boost fertility to saying prayers to placing down objects rumored to be favored by the aeons. He had kneeled before the bed after the priestesses and servants had left the private chambers, his hands clasped in prayer.

"The priestesses gave us enough blessings, no?" You jested. You were not surprised of course, years of being together with him had shown you his sweet devout heart towards the aeons. You found it an entertainment to tease him over the years.

"It is good to show the gods your own faith as well, to ask them personally shows your trust in them and pleases them more after all.." you felt almost bad for interrupting his prayer, with the way he glanced up at you afterwards, "perhaps you should join me, we could give honor to Ena for a stable marriage."

It was not uncommon for you both to spend your leisure time praying. Maybe your fondness for him came from the fact he didn't only run to the gods when something went wry. You remembered the first time, when you were but 11 and had visited the Oak's residence without much of an announcement due to having been passing by and decided to stop to visit him, you had been told the young lord was praying as he usually did around his hour. Your better manners told you to wait but in the moment you had made your way to the family's temple and easily made your way inside, as no one would stop an imperial heir so easily.

You found him on his knees, offerings before him as a painting of Ena laid before him on the wall. He was focused, not noticing your entrance. You observed him from where you stood, the relaxed look on his face wasn't normal for you. He was always at attention and the image of sophistication every man wanted to be, composed at all times. The gentleness of him this time wasn't the expected one of his stature, something about the moment almost felt intrusive. You were quiet in your strides towards him, having a closer look at his face now, you assumed it was the dim lighting of the candles but he looked like a different person. You looked forward at the image of Ena then kneeled next to him and clasped your hands together as well. It just felt right.

Praying with the other became something shared between you two when you both found time together.

You shrugged, "I don't see why not."

JingYuan

An incident had occurred during the celebratory banquet in which the pet kitten of a noble had disturbed the peace by causing a servant to lose balance and create a mess. A great disrespect to the royal family, your mother then had chastised the pet's owner publicly and declared the kitten to be skinned alive to teach everyone a lesson of letting creatures run wild in an event like this one.

Well, you found this sentence to be bad, for the kitten at least but your mother's temper was something to be observed carefully, you'd rather not make the evening more unpleasant for her. Or yourself.

It would be three days later when you'd hear noises when you were taking strolls after a long day in your lessons to clear your mind. You had stopped to rest in a pavilion before you'd journey your way back to your palace and heard it. You told your servants to wait for you at the pavilion as you made your way towards the noise as stealthy as one could be, peeking from behind a wall, you saw a boy perhaps older than you kneeling before a bush. There was a bowl next to him and his hand was stretched into the bush.

"pspspspsps-" you had heard from his mouth, ringing confusion bells in your head.

Then you saw it, the pearl white kitten itching out from the bushes only to be attacked with immediate petting from the young boy. That cat looked an awful lot like the cat ordered to die. It shouldn't be, as you saw the peeled skin yourself. It shouldn't be, what person in their right mind would walk straight into a death sentence like this. This definitely wasn't the cat sentenced to death.

So, you watched the should-be-dead kitten make its way toward the bowl of food, meowing in gladness then going right back in to continue eating.

"Does that feel better, Mimi?" The will-be dead boy muttered softly, his tone soft as he ran his hands through the kitten's head.

You felt more uncomfortable when you recognized his face, the amber eyes and the white hair, the black spot on his face-

Jingliu was a popular swordsman hailing from a clan who rose to a respected military family from her great efforts and achievements in conquest. She took in a young distant cousin whose family had fallen on hard times and raised him to take after her and continue her legacy of sword masters. You met this boy after he had accompanied his caretaker to the Imperial Palace for the banquet to celebrate her recent victory. You remembered seeing his face when he had come to greet you and your mother formally before the banquet commenced. You remembered how much your mother revered and praised Jingliu for her military prowess. You recalled thinking the cat faced boy had delicate features.

Military families were highly regarded by the Imperial family. They were considered military when someone received honors and official recognition from the imperial family for carrying out a successful military operation. These families usually aimed to produce soldiers and were determined to ensure all their descendants carry out their military duties for generations. You were curious about Jingliu’s choice to have a man carry on her military legacy though, most unusual.

You looked back at the white haired boy caressing the young kitten like a babe. You admired his idiocy in a sense. His actions were careless and could cause lady Jingliu trouble if he was not careful- this he was not being either. And yet his actions had somewhat touched you.

You also wanted to help the kitten during the banquet, maybe this could be your second chance.

.

.

An invitation was given to the Jingliu's household inviting the now young man to enter a concubine selection for one of the princesses. To his surprise, he was one of the first chosen by her.

Gepard

During your concubine selection, you heard the name Gepard Landau and you immediately decided then and there you would take him as your concubine as well.

In the years before your dynasty sat the imperial throne, the Landaus had supported your family during the civil war. The first Empress of your dynasty had taken a Landau son for her main husband, the royal consort then, the empresses after her had them as apart of their harem for years. This was an easy decision for you.

Moreover, it keeps the Landaus in check, they had weird influence over the imperial military. It would be tricky for you, if Gepard caused any trouble you can't be too strict on him, his family would find way to stick their hands into harem issues and shield him.

Either way, the Landaus are close with the Imperials, this was expected.

With your royal consort next to you, you watched the carriage wheel in with the Landau's sigil, the proud lion, waving from its flag as it pulled up to your palace gates. The custom was that you shared chambers with the concubine on the day they arrive as per tradition. You didn't have much appetite for him. You met the Landau and his older sister when you were still a girl, you had proudly announced to your father the moment he left your presence that he was beautiful and you should have his hand when you grow older, much to your father's pleasure. Whenever the Landau family bought their children around you were always expected to play with them, this was your pleasure, then you had a strong craving to have him.

Out of sight, out of mind. The Landaus preferred to raise their younger offspring away from court. Gepard and his baby sister would spend their time in the countryside with their father from the capital while their big sister would have to handle the duties as the heir apparent in the palace with their mother. Your childish affections dispersed over time. He was now a thing that was a part of the happier times of childhood more than a person you wanted.

Watching the blonde lion step from the carriage, dressed in the colours of his house and the veil on his head, your mind wandered back to the boy you knew. You recalled you barely looked up during the concubine selection and only said yes because she heard his name and accepted him immediately. You never got to look at him.

As per tradition, he kneeled before you every 2 steps he took until he was directly in front of you. At the final kneel, he didn't rise and awaited his new wife’s command to rise, her official welcome of him into her household. Your expression softened, though only slightly. With deliberate grace, you extend your hand toward him, “Gepard of House Landau,” your voice calm but carrying the weight of tradition. “Rise and take your place among those who are my harem.”

He took her hand, her touch steady and warm, yet undeniably regal. As he stood, the space between them felt both vast and impossibly close.

The things that were not said, unspoken words and battered feelings, it was obvious your feelings didn't go as deep as his. The consummation night was not as deep as he wanted it to be. The words, “Tradition demands our Union but I shall not ask any more of you than what you are expected to.”

Control, commands, longing, he did not expect indifference.

Gepard watched you leave, his thoughts a tempest. The girl he had once played with as a boy had grown into a ruler he could not yet fully understand. But for the first time since entering the palace, he felt less like a pawn and more like a participant in a game he was only beginning to learn

Dan Heng

Your history tutor himself held personal vendetta against the Vidyadharas, if you listened to the man explain the history surrounding them, you'd think he was personally there to experience the atrocities.

Though, you did not dislike him for it. The consequences of the old dynasty's actions did not disappear with time.

389 years ago, before the first Empress of your family overthrew the Vidyadhara Dynasty in the 5 Year War, the final ruler of the Vidyadhara was a man. Male rulers were few to none in the country's history, the only reason Dan Feng found himself on the throne of Gold was from a lack of women in the succession. The fertility of the Vidyadharas has dwindled over time until it reached a point they had to turn to a man to inherit the throne. This was their final mistake.

Undoubtedly, this was the worst sovereign to ever step foot on the throne. The first Empress of your dynasty led conquest against the tyrant and in five years time, the Vidyadhara dynasty were no longer legitimate rulers. They were stripped of their lands, titles and wealth, casted off and put under surveillance by your family after the death of

the tyrant. Bans were carried out against them, stay away from the capital, they couldn't hire help without the approval of the new dynasty, the next head of their family was chosen and controlled by your family, etc.

Now, there were two bans you had to be mindful of; Marriage of a Vidyadhara was determined by your family. Vidyadharas are forbidden from entering the royal harem. For the safety of their dynasty never rising again. This wasn't a problem for you until you were approached by an advisor, speaking of a young Vidyadhara being seeked out by a noble for marriage, a noble of importance. Your natural response would be to ban this immediately, you can't mix Vidyadhara blood with your allies. Perhaps it was the late night meeting but you asked for the noble to bring forth his intended bride.

You will continue to blame the late night, the young man, Dan Heng he called himself, a pretty Vidyadhara from the main branch of the family. I'm your own defense, the pretty boy seemed less interested in the idea of the noble woman being wedded to him and his responses seemed almost robotic. In your own defense, his corrupted blood shouldn't be mixing with your allies. It doesn't matter how you took action to stop this, what matters is the marriage was cut off that night. It doesn't need to be bought up that you made conditions to a serious ban your family pressed on since childhood.

As long as Dan Heng was banned from ever becoming the Royal Consort, having any children he produced inherit your throne and his family did not receive the honors the average concubine’s family was given, you could handle this. You won't regret this later.

Aventurine

In your opinion, the Interastral Peace Cooperation had a too heavy grip on the nations, even empires like your own. You recalled a visit of an ambassador from one in your youth, finding the preparations grand enough for a king to welcome one.

Even as an adult, you found their existence in the continent as a pack of dogs being held on a leash by one person. You weren't stupid enough to deny the good they've done to unite nations in peace but you weren't ignorant enough to deny their less honorable pursuits.

Your ascension to the throne naturally led to an ambassador of theirs being sent to congratulate you. It was a natural tradition for them to appease their royals and for the rulers to accept it.

Here in the banquet hall, you observed the other envoys bought with her as they entered. They approached you first with the proper greeting, Jade took the liberty of introducing herself then everyone else. You masked your disinterest until you noticed the blond, you hadn't seen him before, his frame seemed to be smaller and hidden behind the rest. You leaned back in your seat, looking over his form as Jade introduced him.

“Aventurine, a young man in training by myself.”

“What would you train a man for?” You didn't take your eyes off of him, he must've not grown very fast as a child, for whatever reason.

“Whatever a man can understand, there are good ones out there, like him.” She gestured to the blond with a smirk on her face.

You smiled in response to her jest then looked back at Aventurine, “if he is so good, he can tell me about it.” You motioned to the close spots to yourself at your table, inviting the blond to sit with you instead of his colleagues for the remainder of the banquet.

Well, this training, he won't be able to complete it anymore.

Dr. Ratio

Your first tour as Empress took place in the capital, the pride of the Empire. Your last tour had been when your mother was alive, only last year in another smaller city. On the third day of your tour, your royal consort and yourself were set to visit a distinguished university, personally funded by your family for years.

Education was one of your most prized priorities, there was a pull back before your ascension that you sought out to fix when you were Empress. You made it your own issue to get the universities and lower level schools back on track. If your ears were right, others took advantage when the imperial eyes looked away from it.

In an attempt to not disrupt the school day, you met the staff of the university privately and spoke with them about affairs in education.

Though, mid conversation, a man with purple hair had made his way into the room, abruptly so. His eyes locked rather aggressively with some of the educators in the room but he made his way before you, all proper greeting requirements met and rising when you gave him the permission to. He took a seat close by, opening the book in his hand, “It is my ill manners I arrived so late, it was not intentional on my part and I mean no disrespect to you, my liege.” He bowed his head to you as he spoke, you did not respond with anything but a nod.

“If I am so bold, I want to ask for more than just funding to the schools but for funding to the students as well,” he started, “I just think these funds benefit the schools more than the students. Even with the school funded by your majesty’s kind grace, it's not enough to have their needs met to stay in it.”

Well, it was a pleasant change of pace. You've spent the last half hour here with the inhabitants in the room sending you praises for the funds, then asking for more, then praising you, then repeating. Even his tone was too high to be asking that for someone of his standing. Whatever the person next to you said, you didn't hear it, you lowered your chin to look the purple haired man in the eye.

“And what else?”

The amber eyed man's eyes widened slightly as if he had expected a different response from you. He composed himself quickly after, spinning through his books, “I have personal petitions from my own students in here, some I've tried to sponsor myself, I had them write down their troubles-” you found the reactions of the other folks in the room to be almost comedic. Perhaps a less public inspection was needed.

You rose from your seat, “Perhaps you can tell me more about your students and requests, somewhere else, a stroll or a room to ourselves, whatever you desire.” You looked the man over before making your way towards the door, expecting him to follow in tow. You cared less for what the other women in the room had to say at this moment about your sudden leave, you only looked back to make sure the purple beauty was following you.

Yes, you can't wait to learn more about what he has to say and can do.

*************************************

[izvmimi]

cw: spoilers for the end of dr. stone! smut near the end. minors dni. angst at the beginning. reader implied to not be from japan.

Your subtle gift of premonition truly never fails you, and you realize so once more when you're crowded around Senku's laboratory with the remainder of Yuzuriha and Taiju's closest wedding guests and staring up at the monstrous contraption Senku is designating as a time machine.

While the remainder of the party is in curious astonishment, the uneasy feeling that's been sitting heavily in your chest since the morning of the wedding only solidifies further. 

Now you know why you woke up sick to your stomach on what should be a happy day.

Tsukasa stands close to you, pensive as always, thinking before he adds his own commentary, ever so careful with his words. There's a small smile on his face, and you read that as awe and amusement at Senku's relentless pursuit of scientific advancement; something he had once tried to suppress, he's come to appreciate, and while you'd normally be pleased with how far he's come in that respect, in this very moment it feels like a betrayal. 

A time machine would change everything.

Truly everything, and the selfish part of you scorns it. 

Tsukasa finds your hand besides him, still mulling over the details as Senku explains his roadmap to the group, and squeezes it gently without looking. Your corsage of pink flowers brushes against the sleeve of his suit, and you watch a few petals fall. Suddenly you are far too overwhelmed, and would much rather run of the room, but when you see hope warm Tsukasa's brown eyes, you hold in your unease as best you can. 

"Senku really is amazing, isn't he?" you say through a smile that should come easier than it does. Tsukasa hasn't turned to return your smile yet, still watching the machine, eyes wide. 

"He really is."

---

That evening, Tsukasa in his contrarily roundabout but very direct way of speaking, reaffirms his intention to marry you someday. In a small way, you might as well be married - you're inseparable, you live together with Mirai who calls you big sister and means it every single time, and he makes you feel his love every time he holds you in the dark, and presses deep into you, relishing in the sound of his name as it falls off his lips.

Something big if you want it. Something small will also suffice. Something that makes everything even more real, he says to you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. Pillow talk should make you feel warm, warm as the liquid seeping between your legs. Warm as his arms. Warm as the sensation of his tongue in your mouth, on your skin. 

"Tsukasa," you finally speak up in the dark.

He pulls you closer, and you pause before the words bubble up inside you and force their way out -

"I don't want to lose you."

A lamp flickers on and Tsukasa takes in your tear-stained face with as much alarm allotted for someone so naturally stoic. His palm takes your cheek and rubs it gently, the other arm pulling you in closer to press against him. Your face buries into his chest, and there you let yourself really cry.

He lets you tremble in his embrace for a few more moments, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. He has no idea what you're talking about, because how can he when you've remained in your head all day?

Once your sniffles have slowed, he pulls back so that he can look at you in the eyes again, making sure you're still within an arm's reach.

"How can you lose me when I've never left?" he asks. 

You swallow, and then decide if you must sound awful, now is the time.

"Without de-petrification, there's no way we would have met."

Tsukasa tenses for a moment, which makes your heart sink, but then he pulls you closer, then on top of him. Sliding upwards so that his back is propped up by the headboard, he strokes your forehead. He mulls the thought over for a moment, and you look up into his beautiful face, your heart pounding in anticipation. 

"I'd find you," he says, confidently, and you're stunned practically silent. Simple as that.

You blink for a moment, surprised by his answer, then find your face growing hot.

"What do you mean, 'you'd find me'? We lived on the opposite sides of the world? You would have been famous and I just... some girl with some normal job, and-"

He kisses you again to interrupt you, then presses his forehead to yours.

"Trust me. I'd find you."

You can feel your breath halt and he smiles.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he says. His gaze is soft, and he grins wider, confident, flipping you over so that he's over top of you. You can feel your face growing hot again but for a different reason now. Sucking in a breath, you wrinkle your nose.

"Were you gonna pluck me from my grad school classroom?" you ask him.

"If I must," he says. He kisses your neck, then parts your legs to wrap them around his waist. Your eyelashes flutter.

"Unrealistic," you reply. 

"I'd find you," he says again. His fingers intertwine with yours as he rubs against your center. You sigh, but he's taken all of the worry out of you and replaced it with playful jest. He's so good at this, the way he validates your fears, but doesn't allow you to feel afraid because he lacks that fear, and is always strong enough, good enough, brave enough to protect you. Even from yourself.

"Would you send me special signals through MMA's greatest knockouts montages on Youtube?"

This time he actually laughs, falling back on his heels.

"Yes," he answers. "Whatever it takes."

He's hard again, and the heavy thickness slaps on your pubic bone, and you tense, your heartbeat quickening, your mouth drying in want. He runs his hand through his hair to free the strands sticking to his face before he descends on you again, the other hand gripping the base of his cock to line up with your entrance.

He blows air from his nose, then pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. His teeth flash at you - he is your perfect, sweet, confident love of your life, and all of your worries cease.

"You should be less worried about universes where we don't meet and more concerned about the fact that you can't escape me in any timeline."

He fills you up, your back arching as his hands grip around your waist.

"You're always mine to love."

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Incest, noncon, G/G, miniaturization

I

As April looked out the window, she fancied herself stepping out of the plane and walking on the blanket of clouds. She knew it was, of course, impossible: no matter how solid those clouds looked, she would just plummet down, fall for ages. Shit, it might be a good alternative to returning home. It occurred to her that she was probably the first member of her family to have such fantasies, and not just because she was the first one to ride a plane- her mother, her tens of cousins… they lacked the imagination for such dreaming. To them the world was small, immediate, obvious. It stopped at face value. They would try to walk on clouds. They looked so solid, after all.

His brother Kevin, on the other hand, did have an imagination. He had imagined he could escape their hole of a town by dealing meth. Too bad he didn’t have the intelligence to make it happen. Kevin had lasted one week as a street dealer, the very bottom of the criminal ladder before the cops busted him. Well, at least he had tried.

April knew she should feel guilty for thinking such things, but after two years in College, surrounded by some of the most brilliant scientific minds in the country, the evidence was too great to ignore. She was, objectively, different. Smarter. Better. There was a reason that by age twenty she was on a full-ride scholarship, making huge strides in fields her mother had no hope of comprehending; that same mother, by age twenty, had managed to get knocked up twice, by two different lowlifes who vanished the second the little stripes on the tests turned blue. Birth control was, apparently, a concept far too complex for her mother to grasp.

Fuck. Why was April even going back home? Guilt, obviously. She had skipped two holidays in a row, and her mother had turned on the waterworks to an unbearable degree.  

April was smart enough to realize part of her spite came from fear. It wasn’t a rational thing, she knew, but she could feel it in her chest. She was different from her family, sure, but she was different from her colleagues as well. A part of her felt out of place, as if those men and women from comfortable backgrounds could smell the white trash inside her veins. Nobody said anything. Nobody looked at her in a weird way. But still… April felt that should one of them scratch her, the thin veneer she wore of an “admirable scientist” would flake off and reveal just another trashy blonde wearing daisy dukes and lounging by a 7-11 every weekend, getting wasted on cheap whiskey, just like most of her former highschool classmates. 

Her mind wandered to the secret hidden in her luggage. Dr. Mill’s words echoed in her head. It’s too valuable to take out of the lab, April. And besides, it’s bad for you to take work home. Trust me, you don’t want to burn out. You need to rest.

Good advice for anyone else, but not for her. What was she supposed to do for two weeks in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere? Watch reality TV with her mom and listen to her whining about her oh-so-hard life? Catch up with assholes who peaked in highschool and whose peak had been a molehill? Drink at the one bar in town and watch dumb fucks trying to pick her up by extolling the virtues of their trucks?

No. No. Better to play the hermit, solidify her family reputation as a cold hearted bitch, and get some work done. Work, she knew, no one had a chance to understand.

II

June grabbed another chip. God, she was baking inside her car, but the AC was busted and she couldn’t afford to get it fixed- and besides, it was worth it to see her girl. She missed April so much, in a way she couldn’t fully put into words. She missed her in her body, in her chest. It was like having a stone stuck inside her and no way to get it out. That’s the closest she could come to explaining it. 

She had been missing her daughter for a long time, to be fair. At some point her baby girl had just… changed. Maybe when she had turned twelve or so. Suddenly June couldn’t understand what April was talking about, or what her interests were, or why she looked so miserable all the time. Sure, adolescence was a part of it, but there was something else in the mix. June tried so, so hard to be a good mom. Two jobs, extra gigs, trying to help April with school, trying to teach her to be a good person. That was all she could do, and she figured she must have done something right. June didn’t fully get why or how but April had managed to get into a good school, for free. June was so, so proud. She was also proud of some other things, awards and grants and such, that she didn’t really comprehend. Her girl was bright. Too bright, maybe. Maybe that’s why she was so bitter all the time. Too much thinking was like too little thinking, June figured. Neither was good. But she did try to talk to April, to bridge that gap. Couldn’t say it was working, though.

When she saw April coming out of the airport, her heart lit up for a second. Then she immediately thought: girl sticks out like a frog on fries. She couldn’t help it. April looked beautiful, sure, but beautiful in a weird way. She dressed like someone on TV, from New York or something. The other girls in town weren’t going to like that. Putting on airs was frowned upon. But fuck it. Her daughter was here. Home. Finally.

They hugged tight. Actually, June hugged April tight. April sort of… took it. June realized she had left sweat stains on her daughter’s blouse and felt ashamed. She couldn’t say why. It was like she was looking less at a daughter and more at a boss or something. 

The small talk felt icky. The drive to the house seemed to go on forever. June felt guilty about it. She tried to find something that would spark April’s interest, but… she had nothing to offer. That was a rotten feeling, having nothing to offer her daughter. And the drive only reminded June that she had experienced that sinking feeling for a long time.

III

April took a deep look inside herself. Yep, still not used to it. Her room still was unbearably, overwhelmingly pink. She had made a little bet with herself that she would get accustomed to it in a few days- and a week into her visit, it still bothered her. Sure, it was her childhood room and she had been too busy to redecorate, but… her mother had kept it exactly as it had been, dolls and everything. April had never liked dolls, and she still remembered having to pretend to be happy when her mom gave her a big doll house for Christmas- one, April knew even back then, they couldn’t afford.

At least she had managed to move the project forward. Nothing major, just a few adjustments, just slight improvements- but given the magnitude of her work, the sheer potential within it, even a small upgrade was monumental. It made her dizzy, sometimes, knowing she would change the world. She stared at the horrid ceiling. It still didn’t feel real, coming from this place and being on the verge of-

The scream from downstairs launched her out of bed. Her mind went to the worst possible scenario, and she hated that she knew, instantly, what had happened. Fuck. No, no, no. She flew down the stairs, blaming herself for leaving the device out in the open. What the fuck had she been thinking? How had she not foreseen the obvious, incredibly stupid, possibility of…

“April! April, what the hell?”

April looked around. The pile of clothes by the table told her everything she needed to know. Her mother was leaping, screaming her tiny, tiny lungs out. Twin flames erupted inside the young scientist. It worked! It worked exactly as she said it would work, and it had worked outside of a lab setting, out in the real world! All her calculations, all her experiments, all her theories had been proven correct by the diminute, shouting woman on the floor. This was not just a success, but a world-changing event. Logistics, storage, transportation, all would be revolutionized. She could imagine aid, medicine, clothing delivered to those who needed it- and, of course, there were the potential commercial uses…

On the other hand, there was the rage. This… woman, this absolute idiot, this stain on her own daughter’s DNA had just risked everything April had worked for. The sleepless nights, the hours upon hours of effort, the accumulated prestige, the grants- should the device be damaged in any way… 

“April! Help me! What happened? I went to use your phone…”

Phone? The device looked nothing like a phone. Surely her mother couldn’t be this stupid, could she?

“Mom… Did you think that was a phone? Why?”

“I don’t know! Phones change all the time, with new models and all that stuff! I just wanted to look up a recipe and now… what the hell happened to me? Why is everything so… huge?”

April took a deep breath, trying to hold back the anger boiling inside her chest.

“Mom, things are not huge. You’re… small, ok? The space between the nuclei of your atoms and the electrons was compressed via… it doesn’t matter. You’re not going to get it. The bottom line is…”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid! I may not have your fancy education but you don’t have the right to…”

The right? April could feel herself starting to shake. She had the right to say whatever the fuck she wanted to any moron, family or not, especially if that particular moron had just risked her entire life’s work! Where did this person get off, thinking she deserved respect? 

“You fucking…”

“April! Don’t you use that language with me! I’m still your mother, and…”

“And what? And fucking what, mom? What the fuck are you going to do? Try to make me feel guilty? Hold me back like you always have? Drag me to watch one of your braindead reality shows? Why? What gives you the fucking right? What have you achieved? Ever? The only thing you’ve done worth a shit is getting knocked up with me. Fuck, even my name is a testament to your tiny, mediocre imagination! I’m April because you’re June! What, was February too hard to spell?”

Suddenly, April realized something. Looking down at this diminutive being, finally looking as small as her mind, getting everything off her chest, she felt… good. She felt free, for once. Powerful. Why, she could just take a little step and crush her mother under her foot, feel her wiggling between her toes, trying in vain to escape. It was an intoxicating fantasy, and April decided not to delve into its morality. 

“April… how can you say such things? I raised you… I busted my ass for you! And now that I need your help…”

“No. We’re not doing this. It’s over. The pity party? Not happening. I’m over feeling guilty about the fact that I am better than you. And I am! I’m smarter, I’m younger, I’m more accomplished and I won’t apologize for it!”

“April, you need to fix this!”

“Oh, I need to fix the mess your own stupidity made? You’re such a fucking child! You know what? If you want to be a manipulative baby so badly, I’ll treat you like a baby.”

June couldn’t even think of anything to say before her own daughter, large as a building, imposing as the full moon, leaned forward, her hand darkening everything like an eclipse.

April looked at the small figure in her hand. It was pathetic, crying and screaming. All it would take would be a squeeze, and… She could do anything to this person. Anything at all. She didn’t seem human, and April took the time to turn her around, to look at every inch of her skin, almost as if she was admiring a particularly realistic doll. Had this… creature been the mother that had caused her so much heartache? How had she allowed herself to give energy and time to someone who had always been so… small? In the end, all the device had done was to give her mother’s body the right size for her mind, for her relevance in the world. She had always been just insignificant, and April felt silly for ever having felt any sort of responsibility towards her. Fuck it. She wanted to be an annoying child? She would be one. 

“Well, mom, take a deep breath. I’m taking you where you belong.”

“What-”

April let her tiny mother slide between her breasts, and smiled. It was a rather delightful sensation, almost tickling. April squeezed her tits together, just for a bit. At least that was one good thing she had gotten from dear mommy: a fairly large chest. As she walked back up to her room, she let herself enjoy the way the vibrations from her mother’s screams felt on her skin. Well, if her mom could scream, she could breathe. That was all she deserved. April lingered for a moment in front of the doll house, pushing her breasts together a couple of times for good measure. Finally, she picked the tiny woman from under her top, and placed her inside the house.

“There. Isn’t that nice? The house you always dreamed of! And…”

April started tossing old dresses from her childhood drawers, kept by some forsaken reason by her mother. It should be there, somewhere under… Ah. Bingo. She skipped to the dollhouse, opened the small bag in her hand and let the tiny clothes rain down on her diminutive mother.

“Now you can dress like a proper lady! Isn’t that nice? Shit, those clothes are better than anything you ever got me!”

“April, stop, please, I’m begging you!”

God, it felt good. Like things were in their proper place. Or rather in their proper size. April had always towered over this woman, after all. And there was something intoxicating, heady in the sheer sense of power she felt- for once, she was playing the role she was born to play. She chose a dress from the pile, one advertised, if memory served, as “Prom Night Mindy”. She got Mindys and Katies and Jennys- never Barbies. Dollar store dolls from a dollar store mom. 

“Don’t you like this one? It’s blue! Your favorite color! Put it on.”

“Have you gone crazy? No!”

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In a flash, April held her mother in her hand. She looked so pathetic, so silly. Yet there was something… tasteful in her proportions, something April had never noticed behind the years of resentment. June was a beautiful woman- one that made a beautiful doll. Almost absentmindedly, April carefully squeezed the minuscule woman’s breasts. Quite firm still, she realized. Her mother squirmed and spoke in vain. April was almost in a trance, like she was seeing a toy for the first time. She flicked her finger, striking her mother’s ass. It probably hurt quite a bit, but April didn’t care. The way her finger bounced off those tiny buttocks was both comical and quite relaxing. Maybe she could keep her around, use her as a fidget toy, flick her now and then while working on important things.

“Put me down right now! What’s come over you?”

April took the dress.

“Okay, mom. Arms up, come on. Let’s see how you look in proper clothing, for once”

“No! I won’t…”

“Mom… I don’t think you understand. I can just close my hand and that’s it. The end. Vanished from this Earth. Who would even imagine there’s a tiny body in the bottom of the trash? You’ll never tell me what to do, do you understand? Now, hands up.”

June could feel her daughter was serious. She was capable of doing it. That realization alone was enough to both terrify her and break her heart. Slowly, she lifted her arms, and felt the coarse fabric on her skin. April put her back inside the pink dollhouse.

“Not bad! Give me a little twirl”

“It’s itchy…”

“Well, then maybe you should have bought better dolls with better clothes, huh mom? But I have to say, it does look good on you! Now, twirl!”

June felt ridiculous. She spun and the dress danced upwards. The size wasn’t quite right, and it ended up wrapping itself around her waist.

“Oh, mom! Looks like it’s a bit too short for you! Or maybe you just can’t help yourself and like flashing your stuff around town! What would Ken say? Well, I don’t think he would mind. He doesn’t have any… equipment. Not that you ever bought me a Ken, anyway. But you? Anatomically correct! Now, let’s get you out of that dress, find you a prettier one.”

April tossed the dress after ripping it off her mother’s body. Once again, she felt herself drawn to the beauty she held in her hands.

“Anatomically correct indeed…” she muttered.

Driven by curiosity and the pulsing sensation that grew and grew more powerful between her legs, April exposed with little effort her mother’s most private parts, keeping her thighs open with two fingers.

“April, what… What are you…?”

She tasted her mother like a delicacy. It was, April had to admit, a rather delightful experience, a bit like caviar- a small blast of flavor, mixed with salty sweat, topped off with a heady sniff of pheromones. April licked absentmindedly, her mind gone. It was… relaxing, in a weird way. Like smoking, she supposed. Something to soothe oral anxiety…

Suddenly, she felt her mom squirming, legs trying to close together, body contorting, screams muffled by those tiny hands. April couldn’t comprehend what happened, and it took her a few seconds to realize the simple, obvious fact.

“You came!”

June covered her face in shame. Her daughter was right. Torn between the still lingering sensation and the desire to cry her guilt away, she shook. It was wrong on so, so many levels… but her body had betrayed her, made her explode for her own daughter’s gigantic tongue…

“Oh no. Don’t you get all emotional now. You miniscule slut! Cumming like that because of your own daughter! Aren’t you one tiny whore? Well, I hope you enjoyed it! You know, I always wanted a doll with some kind of action, but I didn’t imagine this kind of action. But… this isn’t fair, is it? It’s not fair at all! You get to cum and I don’t? No, that won’t do!”

April tore her shorts and panties away, sat on the floor and opened her legs. She was soaked already; a fact she took in with an almost scientific coldness. This was certainly an application she hadn’t predicted for her invention, but then again, the greatest discoveries were often accidents.

“What are you waiting for? You have hands and feet and a tiny tongue to explore every inch of my pussy! Don’t you get it? You have the chance to be the world’s best sex toy! Doing things, reaching places no dildo could ever stimulate! So, get to it!”

“Are you insane? I’ll never…”

“Oh, shut up. Do I need to crush you under my foot? Is that what you want? Didn’t think so. So, stop yapping for once and be useful!”

April didn’t let her mother answer. The woman had spoken enough for three lifetimes. She simply grabbed June and placed her between her legs. She quickly realized the threat had worked, and a myriad of sensations coursed through her body. Fuck, this was revolutionary.

She let her head fall back, her body relax and enjoy. Her mind drifted as her breath quickened. Pleasure mixed with dreams of what was to come. Nobel Prize. A new world, beget by her genius. Entire industries transformed. 

And as for her mother… well, finally she was of some use. Nobody would miss her- and she’d look great in a tiny cage by her bed.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and get access to the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[mrmorsh]

Chaotic swap is a universe in which the roles of the characters have been changed, but the characters themselves have remained the same. For example, Rouge in the role of Shadow still retains its basic character traits.

Agent Shadow is an elite agent of the Gun organization. His specialties are espionage and theft of important data. Trained by the best special forces fighters, thanks to which he is able to fight back even the strongest robot. His rocket boots allow him to temporarily levitate as well as make a series of short but fast jerks. During his time at Gun, his senses had dulled and Shadow had become more cool-headed. The hedgehog has a side type of earnings — the New Babylon Casino as well as a series of bars. Loves :Successfully completed tasks, money, as well as strong girls. He usually acts with cold and businesslike indifference, only occasionally showing his vulnerable side. It has a set of different types of gadgets, bombs, special glasses and pistols. Despite his cold nature, Shadow has a narrow circle of personalities that he can call friends without doubt or sarcasm. Just that the hedgehog hides his real emotions behind the mask of a harsh and cold agent. Of all of them, perhaps only two saw the real emotions of the hedgehog. Most often, it separates the eternally arguing Rouge and Lien-da, Which is why most often it becomes a beacon of reason for Rouge and Lien-da.

Rouge is a perfect life form created by Professor Gerald Robotnik as a universal medicine. Extremely dangerous due to the power to control the energy of Chaos, as well as because of the abilities that were added thanks to the altered dna. She is able to destroy stones and metal with her scream, but this ability requires great strength and concentration. Her element is air, so anyone who decides to arrange a fight in flight will instantly fall to the ground due to a barrage of attacks. She is a little obsessed with the power of Chaos Emeralds, so she tries to collect them. Rouge communicates quite easily and playfully—this behavior is associated with watching a lot of old movies on vhs, in which the main roles were played by spy girls. Rouge took the manner of her communication and behavior from the heroines of similar Films and TV series. Despite her cheerful demeanor, Rouge is still plagued by nightmares about the Ark colony, perhaps she has post-traumatic stress disorder. Her main connection is that Agent Shadow is her personal psychologist, he often calms Rouge at night when she wakes up from Another nightmare. Agent Shadow may be Rouge's main love interest, but due to her inexperience, all she can do is flirt. She is very proud and ready to fight dirty when faced with a formidable opponent. The carefree and playful attitude of the bat, due to its abilities, can strain some characters. To most people, Rouge seems brave, ambitious, independent, flirtatious, calculating narcissist who thinks only of herself. Although in fact this is just an image that she plays out in public, her closest friends know that the girl is actually kind, although she has moments of depression.

E.G.G-123—The most dangerous and intelligent of the E-series robots, is the creation of Dr. Vanilla, which as a result got out of control. It has a large arsenal of weapons and ammunition.Initially, E. G. G -123 was created as a robot that would kill Blaze the cat. However, as a result, Vanilla turned the robot into a guard for Rouge, who was in stasis at one of Vanilla's bases. However, the rapidly developing intelligence of the robot rebelled against Vanilla, wanting power as well as revenge for being locked underground for three years. In his arsenal there is :Rockets, miniguns, flamethrowers, plasma and laser weapons. In addition, the robot is very smart, which allows it to create its own weapons, which often work against its master due to mortality. E. G. G -123 likes to gloat and joke during battle, praising his fighting qualities as well as his mind. He often underestimates his enemies because of too much confidence in his abilities. The robot likes to compete with those individuals whose powers are not inferior to his own. He likes to arrange friendly fights with Rouge, considers her a worthy opponent. Despite his hidden desire to take over the world, E-123 himself wants Agent Shadow and Rouge to share rule over the world with him. As a result, he tends to be extremely headstrong, reckless, aggressive and destructive - destroying everything that gets in his way.

---

Dr. Vanilla is a brilliant scientist and a villain with a huge ego. Her main goal is to take over the world and prove that she is the greatest genius. Her main weapon is intelligence, which allows her to create robots and various equipment.Dr. Vanilla is a misanthrope and a passionate technophile. Meeting the criteria of a classic sociopath, the doctor does not care about anyone except himself and his cars. She will gladly stick a knife in the back of anyone who ceases to be useful, or uses it for her own personal gain, without thinking twice.However, her main weakness is her confidence in her invincibility, and because of this, she sometimes underestimates her opponents during combat. Arrogant and narcissistic, she creates countless technological wonders that fuel her huge ego, usually bolstered by her goal to finally build an empire, and she doesn't care where it starts. Determination and stubbornness can be called strong character traits, because she never gives up when most would accept defeat. Rare moments of losing control of anger turn Vanilla into a dangerous tornado of rage that threatens both allies and her enemies. Basically, he behaves calmly and coolly, showing emotions only in moments of victory or defeat. She despises Blaze so much that she refused to make her robo copy, because of the losses during outbursts of anger, she could easily destroy Blaze's Robo copy and at the same time half of her base. He considers Blaze unworthy to be captured even in the form of a Robo copy.

Gemerl is a robot created to copy other people's abilities as well as destroy the heroine cat Blaze.Jimerl is as fast as Blaze, and is also able to copy the abilities of other heroes, but he cannot copy more complex ones such as Chaos control. He is very restrained and calm; he never seems to be in a hurry, but he manages everywhere. On the surface, he seems quiet and modest, but in fact, he is probably no less insidious than Vanilla, with the only difference that he is very good at hiding his true feelings, thoughts and intentions.Other robots know that he is vindictive and vindictive, and will always figure out how to ruin the offender's life. Therefore, everyone tries to maintain the appearance of a good relationship with him. Jimerl himself is quite satisfied with this state of affairs. The only thing that can break his usual equanimity is the appearance of a possible competitor.He is a violent, aggressive, cold-blooded and intelligent killing machine with a great superiority complex. However, from the very beginning, he had a habit of imitating Blaze's gestures, if not in a mocking manner.Jimerl's most dominant trait is his hatred and obsession with Blaze the cat. Programmed with the sole purpose of surpassing and destroying the cat, the robot is obsessed with the belief that it surpasses Blaze in all parameters. The robot considers itself as it says:"Jimerl is excellent, Blaze is insignificant!"

Agent Vector is Dr. Vanilla's devoted assistant, who may be in love with her. As a rule, he performs secondary work, collecting materials for the construction of bases, checking factories for the production of robots and making coffeeAgent Vector is the most calm of their henchmen Dr. Vanilla.Vector is used to Vanilla's not always obvious plans and understands her better than most other people. He obeys the doctor, taking all insults in his direction and doing some humiliating things without unnecessary questions. Vector tends to consider himself the smartest in any situation. This may not always be true, but he is really quite smart, considering that he lasted the longest as Dr. Vanilla's assistant.Vector usually shows a calm side of himself. However, he speaks in a rude tone and may not pay attention to the details of the conversation. At the same time, Vector himself does not mind and frankly deceive and mislead, imitating Dr. Vanilla, whom he admires and respects.

---

Amy Rose is a combat soldier created by former subordinate Vanilla -Tails. Amy was originally created to destroy Blaze the Cat, but then Tails directed his forces to create his empire. Rose has become a leading force that helps Tails with his plans. Amy is gloomy, speaks little and is cold-blooded towards any battle or opponent. It can release lightning bolts from its body and also move at equal speeds with the Blaze the cat. Her main ability is dark inspiration, which causes the worst and most evil in the personality to wake up. She does not show emotions even during the battle, because she is gnawed that she is just a living weapon created for destruction. But despite this, she finds the company of the robot convenient for her, to some extent she considers the Metal unit her only friend. She is ready to listen to the ideas of others when she admits that she does not really have a special plan of her own that could be implemented, which makes her more open to suggestions. In the future, she will hate Tails and will be obsessed with finding her real family, although it is still unknown whether she was created in a laboratory or was kidnapped for experiments. He likes to use a bat that can absorb energy from Emp or other sources and then release it in the form of lightning. She hides that she likes to be read bedtime stories.

Metal unit v.3.0—Was created as an attempt to replace Jimerl, but now monitors the state of the Amy. Metal was created with an eye on the doctor's past work, trying to do everything so that the Robot would not get out of control and rebel against the creator. However, due to the advanced adaptive artificial intelligence, he soon overcame the program. He was programmed to take care of Amy, but then the program turned into true emotions. He likes to cook , but because of the imperfection of his program, the food he prepares becomes a biological weapon. The unit is able to use its powers to control water, is able to create whole storms and even tornadoes. Due to the connection and trust with Amy, he is able to combine his attacks and non-attacks. However, he can be too obsessed with Amy's safety, which is why after her defeat he can retreat, taking the hedgehog with him. He speaks politely and formally, addressing others as "sir" or "ma'am." Despite his restrained behavior, he is capable of moments of strong emotions: when he thought that Amy had been fatally injured, he flew into a rage and destroyed everything he saw.

Tails Miles Prower is a former fan of Dr. Vanilla, who decided that he would outgrow his idol and that he would be able to take over the world. He has a lot of knowledge in the field of creating cyborgs, mutants and robots. Uses Warp Topaz and its energy to open portals, hypnosis, and energy shots from a prosthetic eye. He voluntarily replaced some parts of his body, which is why he received additional abilities:Shooting a laser beam from the eye, hacking techniques, strengthening strength thanks to a robo hand. Initially admired the work of Dr. Vanilla, an unrecognized scientific genius and a big ego forced Tails to enter the road of crime. In addition to his intelligence, the fox is a pretty dexterous manipulator. He could masterfully use other people to his advantage to get them to cooperate with him or lure them into traps, and he knew exactly how to strike his enemies where it hurt the most.The fact that he had been an outcast for so many years made him bitter and cynical. A selfish genius who puts his own well-being above everything else.He is very easily ready to say goodbye to the life of another living being, so he immediately put Amy in front of a choice either she serves him or dies. Tails managed to sew a device inside Amy's heart that can stop the girl's heartbeat. He has absolutely no sympathy and considers Amy and Metal as ordinary instruments that can be replaced.

[myemuisemo]

Parts 6-8 of Letters from Watson's handling of The Sign of the Four hit at a time when I was swamped with work, so circumstances have made a fool of my assumption about that tiny footprint before I had a chance to thoroughly embarrass myself in public.

My first thought for the footprint was "monkey" -- I apparently really, really want a monkey, and there are certain macaques whose faces would be absolutely terrifying if seen pressed against a dark window. The problem is, the footprints of monkeys, apes, gorillas, and other such don't look like human footprints. They're all much more like hands. Gorillas come closest to having a human-like foot, but there's still a big thumb-like finger. And, of course, gorillas are too big anyway.

My venture into simian podiatry at least explains why Dr. Watson doesn't think "monkey." Victorians would have been better informed on this topic than I am, as monkeys were a common household pet in England. Little Jacko was, unsurprisingly, usually clever but mischievous. The blog from which I got monkey-lore also gets into monkey-fighting, which is even more appalling than how monkeys were treated as pets.

In part 8, we discover that the footprint does not, after all, belong to a monkey, ape, or other animal. Oh no, Doyle has in mind a situation much worse, and he's even foreshadowed it with two Indian servants. The colonial occupiers of India absolutely brought home people for their convenience.

The mysterious Jonathan Small brought home an indigenous Andaman Islander, who would be totally justified in wanting to kill anyone associated with the British Army. About 30-40 years before the time of the story, British settlement on the island had brought diseases that nearly wiped out the indigenous peoples. Efforts to help them existed -- one such would have been in the news in 1888 -- but it's still entirely a shameful episode.

(If you recall the 2018 story of the missionary who was determined to land on an island of indigenous peoples who were known for not allowing visitors... these were Andamanese, specifically Sentinelese. He was killed by the locals.)

Now, then, listen to this. ‘They are naturally hideous, having large, misshapen heads, small, fierce eyes, and distorted features. Their feet and hands, however, are remarkably small. So intractable and fierce are they that all the efforts of the British official have failed to win them over in any degree. They have always been a terror to shipwrecked crews, braining the survivors with their stone-headed clubs, or shooting them with their poisoned arrows. These massacres are invariably concluded by a cannibal feast.’

There's still a lot of "exotification of the savage" here -- the images of today's Andaman Islanders just look like people, very dark-skinned, with textured hair. Cannibalism felt like one of those charges levied against any group one doesn't like, and sure enough! Every source I can find today says the people of the Andaman Islands never practiced cannibalism. History Today also says "no poisoned darts," but the article's partly paywalled.

The Andaman Islander has kind of harshed my buzz vis-a-vis fun elements like the many ways Holmes demonstrates he's a man of class flexibility, the "never tired when working" line (he has got to be neurospicy), the omnipresence of creosote (used as a wood preservative, toxic af to the workers and anyone who recklessly burned all creosote-treated wood), and the humor of the newspaper report fronting for more localized police stations, along with the running joke of Athelney Jones arresting everyone indiscriminately.

At least there was a badger (at the house where Toby was obtained).

[ramblings-from-the-ether]

And on a related note, epithet markings like Zoras triangles and Meras irises?

Epithet marking concepts, go!

Molly: Lots of possibilities for her. The stars in her hair turn sickly-green when she uses a powerful move, her button-pupils brighten and glow, maybe even her freckles turn into sparkling green dots as she becomes more powerful. One recent concept I had is green epithet marks going down her face from her eyes, almost reminiscent of tear streaks. They seem to flicker and almost darken her face when she uses her more powerful moves.

Giovanni: High-power Giovanni is always an incredibly fun concept to think about. I think if he were to gain an epithet marking, it would be a large glowing patch on his throat that looks almost like there's magma underneath as he uses his abilities. Alternatively, maybe the soup that Giovanni can make gradually becomes so hot that even he can't withstand it, accidentally burning himself with it, and the burn scars on his skin actually become his epithet marks! They seem to sizzle and smoke when he conjures anything hot enough.

Sylvie: A couple ideas. Sylvie's markings form as spiralling patterns on his arms and maybe around his eyes. Maybe glistening, golden spots start to dot his skin in various areas, looking almost like dust of some kind. After continuous use of Dream Big, maybe green-and-yellow markings form around his neck, arms and shoulders, somewhat reminiscent of Dr. Beefton's coat and clothing. His markings hum softly with ethereal power when he summons forth his dreams.

Indus: Well, the most obvious thing for Indus would be for his epithet marks to replace his tattoos. Or, maybe new markings emerge in the space surrounding his tattoos, piecing together to almost look like a suit of armour! When Indus makes a BARRIER, the markings closest to it creak and converge even closer together, like living armour reinforcing itself to protect him.

Mera: Her irises are a start, but if Mera gets even more powerful, a really cool idea for further epithet markings would be silvery-blue cracks lining her skin, kinda like kintsugi. Maybe she gets heavily injured at some point (either by her epithet or a powerful attack, maybe from Giovanni's critical 13) and the resulting scar forms a spiderweb-like crack that then becomes her epithet mark! The cracks glisten and creak dangerously when she exerts herself too much.

Percy: It's hard to imagine Percy's epithet markings resemble anything other than stone and brick carvings. Rows resembling brick lines, sigils and hieroglyphs, and patterns of masonry forming around her limbs and neck, and possibly even on her face and around her eyes, making her into a living parapet. They spark and crackle with golden lightning whenever she uses her Wizard Towers, and glow with soft radiance when she constructs a Healing Hut.

Ramsey: I found it hard to think of anything for this rat man, but maybe: The gold that forms Ramsey's gilded eye spreads outward from the socket, creating literal gold veins across his face! Perhaps streaks of gold could even form and snake across his body like kintsugi cracks. The gold patterns gleam and dazzle as he activates his golden touch, and maybe even change their colour to that of an alloy when he turns himself to gold.

Rick: We've all seen the void-black lightning that streaks from his eyes when Rick wants to ham it up. His epithet markings come in the form of pitch-black, flame-like patches on his face, streaming from the sides of his eyes. Alternatively, maybe his epithet mark forms as a black, heart-shaped crest or tattoo on his right breast! (the wrong side.) It glows and surges with eldritch power when he uses his magic.

Lorelai: I actually headcanon that Lorelai's little rainbow freckles are her epithet markings, but if she were to get others, I imagine the freckles could eventually grow into stars. They flash and glow in an array of colours when she summons her dream bubbles and mini-bosses.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Millennium (7x04)

December 31, 1999 11:55 pm

The moment of truth was upon them.

The hospital staff had done everything they could to prepare for the new year. Janine wasn’t sure how to feel about Y2K, but she was glad that in an institution where so many lives were at stake, it was being taken seriously. Better to be prepared and have it blow over than to have written it off as nonsense and be caught in chaos.

The generators had all been checked and fueled. Computer files for current patients had been printed and were kept along with their physical files. They were stocked on all the necessary medicines and supplies just in case all the computers and ordering systems reverted back to the stone age when the first number in the year turned to a 2.

Janine didn’t really understand enough about technology to be able to predict what was going to happen in the next few minutes, but that didn’t keep her from wondering. Would the lights turn off? Would everything get deathly quiet before the hum of the generators started or would it be loud? Would people yell and panic? Would it be a flurry of excitement and confusion?

Would the world end?

Or would it just be a minute later, a new day, another moment in time?

With nothing left to do but wait for fate to find them, Janine donned her party hat and stood with her coworkers. It had been a while since she’d spent New Year’s Eve at the hospital, but she didn’t mind this year. Since her husband was spending the night with his new girlfriend, it wasn’t like she had anyone to kiss at midnight anyway. At least if she was here she wouldn’t be welcoming the new millennium crying into a pint of ice cream.

She walked into the closest waiting area and reached up to increase the volume on the television that was mounted near the ceiling. They’d tuned all of them to Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve about a half hour before.

“There's another shot of that millennium crystal ball all lit up. They're getting ready to bring in the New Year,” Dick said from the TV. “Boy, are they packed in tonight.”

Janine looked around the floor, taking in the Christmas decorations and the New Year banner someone had hung that morning. Her colleagues and friends were all in party hats, tiaras, and 2000 glasses. A man was sleeping in a chair, his party hat eschew on the top of his head. A little girl ran past her and a woman with red hair pushed open the door and let her out into the hall.

The place was cheery in a way it simply wasn’t the rest of the year. They were nowhere near as packed as Times Square, but there was definitely an air of celebration in this little corner of the world. Janine couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face as she walked back to join her friends near the desk.

“… The ball is on its way…” Dick said on the screen as Janine’s ��work mom” Enid pulled her in for a tight hug.

Janine tipped her chin up, watching the ball make its descent.

“… 30 seconds now, 30. Get ready for the loudest cheering you'll ever hear in your life.”

She hoped this Y2K thing wasn’t real. She hoped for a new start without a husband she’d never really loved.

She hoped for love, pure and simple.

“Hug your friends and loved ones tight,” Dick said as Enid kept her arm slung around Janine’s waist. “What the heck, whoever that person is next to you. No time like the present. Are you ready? Here we go.”

All eyes turned to the screens around the floor. The room erupted into a countdown to match the one in New York. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, Happy New Year, 2000!”

Janine wrapped her arms around her friend before moving on to Joanne, and then Lauren, and Dr. DeRosa. Auld Lang Syne played from the TVs. The lights stayed on as she hugged person after person, feeling grateful for these people, the ones she spent her days with, her partners in this job. They were the ones who kept her sane, kept her honest, and stood by her side through thick and thin.

As she wrapped her arms around Megan, the nurse who had trained her when she’d first moved to this floor, her gaze drifted to the doors to the hall where she caught a glimpse of someone else’s New Year moment. She stepped out of the hug but continued to watch a man and a woman– the red haired woman she’d seen with the child earlier, she realized– sharing a kiss. It was gentle, nothing off-putting or inappropriate for a public setting, but there was something about it.

Janine felt a little like a voyeur, but for whatever reason, she kept watching as the man– arm in a sling and so tall compared to the woman he was with– pulled away, but just barely. They stood still, watching each other mere inches apart. Janine could see their smiles and God, she didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her exactly like that. Had she even looked that happy on her wedding day? Somehow she doubted it.

The cheering and chatter around her continued as she watched the man and woman say something to each other that she couldn’t hear before he put his good arm around the woman’s shoulders and led her to the exit.

“You okay?” Enid asked, bumping her hip against Janine’s.

“Yeah,” she said, imagining a New Year where she could have what that couple had– love and tenderness that seemed so genuine and uncomplicated.

Maybe next year, she told herself. It was a new millennium. Anything was possible.

“Yeah,” she repeated. “I’m good.”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

[josephquinnswhore]

Walls Come Tumbling Down. Part 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader.

Summary: Things between you and Din had reached boiling point on your last mission, you're injured, and Din makes a moving confession, is it too late?

Word Count: 4.9k

Content Warning: reader is injured, typical mandalorian violence, unhinged reader tbh lol.

The dark armor was all you could see accompanied by those glowing red eyes of imperial dark troopers, impenetrable to your blaster and your allies' efforts to save Grogu from being taken from you by the plotting of Moff Gideon. Your eyebrows furrow in concentration, squinting as you aimed your weapon towards the sky, desperate not to give up. Din slapped the blaster out of your hands, and it landed to the ground with a thud, “stop. You’ll hit him!” Din remarks coldly. The dust stirring and settling in a fine line uncomfortably in your nostrils. Your allies watched on as grogu was transported away; unknowing of what were to become of him, anxiety clawed at your skin, the sun beaming down bore an unwelcome sting to your exposed skin. You wished you could save grogu, you wished you could scream at Din, alas your eyes sets its rage fueled target on a giant rock, the orange stone illuminating gold from the sun rays, the harshness of the rocks surface met your knuckles and boot covered feet as you attacked the rock violently, the fight you had left in you being absorbed by the giant stone, unaffected by your efforts. Blood trickled through your fingers from your bloodied knuckles, the repetition of force behind them made you wince, you were holding on by a thread, barely. Din’s hands grip your arm to face him, and your composure is lost; sadness and guilt bubbling to the surface to swallow you whole like it was an insatiable hunger needing to be fed. “Let go of me!” You spit venomously. Din complies and you fall to the ground, the crooked edge of the stone and your half-dried blood slid down your armor clad back. You rub your knuckles in an attempt to sooth them, the emotional pain fueling to the agony that stung your knuckles. Emptiness filled you, a void opening in your chest as if grogu was the only thing keeping you whole. Now he was gone, it was your fault.

A beskar helmet is all you see when you’re shaken awake, body in the grip of Din himself in his attempt to wake you from your night terror, plaguing your mind as you attempt to rest every evening. “Get dressed, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” Din leaves you to wallow in your pity party alone, distancing himself in the weeks grogu was taken from you. You rubbed your knuckles, phantom pain leaving a deep ache behind as you caress the scars on your hands, not ready to face another day of living a nightmare that was currently your reality.

Your boots stomped heavily behind Boba’s, your feet nearly nudging the back of his own boots as you boarded an Imperial ship, intel you’d resourced led you and your allies to believe Dr Pershing would be on and that he would tell you directly where grogu was. The two men were outnumbered as Boba, yourself, Din and Fennec board the small ship, blasters pointed at the ready, aimed to fire. The action causes the men to raise their hands in submission, the Dr included. The man in the far back standing behind the Dr wraps an arm around the Drs throat, the other holding his blaster to his head, using him as a human shield, a negotiation. “Before you make a mistake, this is Dr Pershing.” The man cocked his head to the side, looking past Boba to get a look at you, recognition in his eyes.

"We've met, is the kid alive?" Din questions, trying to get his attention. "Yes. He’s on the cruiser." Pershing blurts out, in a desperate attempt to save himself, a plea for help. A loud gasp leaves the Dr’s mouth as the man turns the safety off with a click, furious at the Dr’s admission. You aim your gun and the man closest to you pleas, "I’m not with him. We can work something out." The fear left his eyes and were replaced with a lifeless dullness as his crew mate shot him in the back of the head, the desperate act of a man running out of choices, unwilling to surrender. “Drop the weapon or I’ll happily blow whatever remnants of a brain you have left, onto the windscreen.” You snap. The man’s confident façade momentarily cracked, his face dropping at the firmness and confidence you radiated.

"No. NO you listen to me," his voice wavered, his demeanour falling as you stood off with him, "this is a top-tier target of the new republic. This is a clone engineer. If they find out he’s dead because of you, you’re gonna wish the empire hadn’t spared your life." A humourless chuckle leaves your lips, something that Din can’t recognise as he turns to you, the darkness blossoming through your body and settling in the finger that hovered over the trigger of your blaster. "You think this is funny?" The man questions, a look of disbelief in his eyes. “The galaxy cheered as the rebels were destroyed, your parents included.” "I’ll give you one last chance to put the weapon down." Your voice is authoritative and sends a wave of doubt through the man’s body as you challenge him. He doesn’t back down. "Destroying your parents and the rest of the rebel scum was a small price to pay to rid the galaxy of terrorism." Not wanting to hear another word, your finger squeezed the trigger of your blaster, the rage inside you dissipating once his body fell to the floor of the ship lifelessly, the Dr screamed in terror as the blast skimmed past his head, narrowly avoiding him. An unrecognisable emotion plasters on your face, one that Din doesn’t like, he watched you as you walked away, boarding your ship he knew there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to rescue grogu, and it scared him of what you could become. "Smart talk got you nowhere in the end, Imperial scum." You mutter as you board your ship, the tainted smell of blood and smoke from your blaster firing, exiting your sense of smell.

You’d caught Din starring, you couldn’t count how many times, turning his head away hesitantly when you caught him. Neither of you willing to speak first, the stubbornness between you was pushing a giant wedge between the gap that was already there. There was nothing officially spoken or established between the two of you, Din taking off his gloves once didn’t grant you any title, you figured it came down to loneliness, the human need for physical touch, his rejection of you now stung you regardless. The distance Din placed between you had only reiterated your decision to leave his company once grogu was rescued and you knew he was safe.

As the ship landed, a giant dust cloud swirled around you, the dust coating your armour and hair in a thin layer, invading your nostrils threatening you to sneeze. The accompanied smell of smoke from a nearby power plant only made the itch in your nose more irritable and harder to ignore. The loud sound of ships whirring as they fly through the air was enough to distract you as you walk towards the small town into a bar behind Din and Boba. Judgemental and weary eyes watching you from every table, all conversation ceasing as you walk towards a table that sat; two women, wearing similar armour to the two men in front of you, helmets sat on the table in front of them. As you approach, the dark haired girl stands, the women with the red hair remains seated, unbothered.

"I need your help," Din states simply, demanding their compliance.

"Not all Mandalorian’s are bounty hunters." The woman with the short red hair quipped with a smirk, declining Dins proposition. "Some of us serve a higher purpose." You snort silently out of your mouth, not going unnoticed by the two women at the table. "They took the child." Din pleas with them. Her face softens for a mere second, of curiosity she questions, "Who?" "Moff Giddeon." She scoffs and shakes her head, "You’ll never find him." Boba turns to Din, "We don’t need these two, come on. Lets get outta here."

Your eyes remained focused on the two women, observing them for any threat they may produce, they turn to face Boba and state, "You are not a Mandalorian." You scoff at the hypocrisy and mutter, "Oh please." The dark haired woman on the left gasps, "so your pet speaks." "Pet?" You scowl and try to barge through Boba and Din in front of you, Boba holding one arm out to stop you from murdering her in the middle of town, your fuse as short as it’s ever been since grogu’s kidnapping. Din couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on Boba's arm restraining your body, the touch setting something alight inside of him and settling in his chest with an uncomfortable ache. It was no secret that you and Boba had become good friends over the weeks, Din had developed insecurities that stemmed from your newfound friendship. Boba’s nickname for you stuck to the walls of Din’s brain like a disease, reminding him of his failure when it came to you. Nimerah he would call you, several meanings of strength, power and beauty.

She raised her eyebrows, "I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk." Boba chuckles, "I wouldn’t provoke her, shes more capable than she looks." The woman sneered in disbelief, watching your face, your eyes unwavering in a stare for dominance, "shes as harmless as a dog." Din turns to you and you’re seething, he can almost feel the heat radiating off your body, "Woof." You spit unamused. Din has to bite his lip under his helmet to stop himself from laughing in this tense situation, not needing to escalate this further.

"See, harmless pet." She confirms, you barge past the two armoured men, leaving your blaster to rest on your hip, deciding you would find more satisfaction in watching the life leave her eyes with your hands wrapped around her throat. The woman flinched at you lurching forward, regaining her composure to meet you eye to eye. "Come now, Nimerah. Accompany Fennec back at the ship and make sure the prisoner is detained securely." You stare at the women a second longer before you spit at her feet, wiping your mouth with your wrist, nodding to Boba as you turn to exit the building completely ignoring Din as he watched you exit.

Din could feel something clench around his heart, the safety within the confines of his armour preventing no such ache as he watched the interaction between Boba and you. Silently wishing he had never pushed you away, wished he hadn’t pushed you into Boba’s arms, this is what was happening, wasn’t it? You make it to the ship within minutes and Fennec senses your frustration before she sees you, the Dr still in shackles, sitting compliantly, you know Boba didn’t send you here to check the security of your prisoner, he wouldn’t doubt his second hand, he was looking out for you. "What happened with you?" Fennec questions sincerely. "These women down at the bar, calling me Boba’s pet." You confess bitterly, the thought that outsiders believed you were with Boba and not Din, maybe Boba would have a place for you beside Fennec when Grogu was rescued. "They’re handling it." You add and met with Fennec raising one eyebrow at you.

"Cheer up, kid. If anything you’d be my pet." She states jokingly trying to lighten the mood, succeeding in her efforts as a smile cracked on your lips, you and Fennec had become close and it was becoming obvious she knew how to cheer you up.

Multiple sets of footsteps board the ship, causing you and Fennec to arm yourselves with your blasters, ready to fight whoever had entered the ship. Bulky shadows casting through the ship as you’re met with Din and Boba, behind the two women from the bar followed them hesitantly.

"You have got to be kidding me." You hiss, arm not wavering in pointing your loaded weapon at the women. "They’re here to help us." Din argues, expecting you to lower your weapon. “Lower your weapon, Nimerah.” Your chest heaves in frustration but obey Boba’s command, Fennec eyes you as she lowers her own weapon. "Say a goddamn word to me and I’ll put one right between your eyes." You turn on the safety of your blaster and mimic a blast being fired with your hand pointing at them, mouthing 'pew.’ Dins stare never leaving your own, wondering why you were so quick to act when Boba commanded, you situated yourself beside the prisoner, clipping your blaster back onto your belt.

The red haired woman who had introduced herself as Bo Katan, took a seat in front of you, supplying a projection of Moff Gideon’s cruiser lighting up the dark room of the ship in a blue hue. "This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction of that." The doctor interrupts. "Your assessment is misleading.” "Oh great, an objective opinion." You scoff. The Dr turns to you from beside you, eyes meeting yours behind his tinted glasses, "this isn’t subterfuge. I assure you."

Bo Katan puts her hand up to silence further commentary from you, causing your lip to curl in distaste. "Let him speak." Eyes all turned to him, "theres a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child." Your mind immediately wandered to when Grogu was taken, the half a dozen metallic dark grey suits of the dark troopers, the red eyes glowing in the daylight sent a shiver down your spine, fighting them off was useless as they took the child without any disturbance. Din takes a few steps forward so he’s standing next to where you’re seated. His boot hitting yours lightly bought you back to reality, his head slightly cocked to the side watching you. You crinkle your nose and sniffle to yourself. "I’m fine." The lie escapes your lips quietly, unnoticed by others and although he notices, he doesn’t argue. "How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?" Din steps froward to get a better look at the ships projection, questioning the Dr. "These are third-generation design. They are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved. They’re droids."

Din turns to you and you scoff, sinking further into the brown seat with your hands in your head, feeling defeated. "Wheres the child being held?" Din looks at the projection intently, the image whirrs and a new image is shown. "This is the bridge, he’s being held here under armed guard." "Very well. well split into two parties." Bo Katan states, accepting his explanation. "I go alone." Din states firmly. "Fine." Bo Katan agrees, looking back towards the image, you stare forward watching Din, the blue lights reflecting off his beskar, illuminating it. He was going alone, this is a suicide mission. You knew he would lay his life down for Grogu, that it was worth the sacrifice. It didn’t stop the dull ache that stung your heart as you thought of the probability he made it out alive with the dark troopers standing against him. "Koska, Fennec, y/n and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralised the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks, in a penetration manoeuvre." "And me?" Din questions and Bo Katan continues, "We'll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid." Din turns to you, a seed of doubt being planted in his mind that you would be able to focus, at least long enough to not get killed. You ponder if you could trust that Bo Katan had Din’s best chances of success in her interest.

"This mission is gonna be a real skank in the scud pie." You mumble, eying Din. "We'll meet at the bridge." He nods his head, looking at you. I’ll meet you there.

How right you were about this mission being a skank in the scud pie.

Infiltrating the cruiser was easy enough, yourself and the women took down the storm troopers that surrounded your crash landed ship with ease, they were terrible a shot and were taken down with a single blast to the head easily avoiding any real conflict. The hardest part of it all was leaving Din to himself in the ship and stirred an array of emotions within you, causing a silent battle with yourself to stay focused. "Its a little too clear, keep your eyes open." Bo Katan states, you settle your red-hot weapon in front of you, walking behind Bo Katan and Koska, the beskar clanging against the floor of the hallway with a loud echo, so much for subtlety. Storm troopers filled the entrance of your pathway and began firing, you and Fennec stand your ground and begin firing, Bo Katan and Koska rolling out of the way and diving off the elevated pathway. The troopers dropped lifelessly to the floor as you and Fennec clear the hallway with ease.

"Freeze. Drop your weapons." You and Fennec stopped in your tracks, turning to each other as you saw in your peripheral vision how many storm troopers were behind you. They outnumbered you easily, and they ideally had the upper hand in terms of position, but you weren’t deterred. “Sector four, hold your position." One troop from the front line reports. You turn to face them, preparing to sacrifice your life fighting, it felt like a dramatic thought when Bo Katan and Koska flew up with their jetpacks, spitting bright flames and firing at the troopers, sparks flying off their armour, doing nothing to protect them as they collapse in defeat, dead. The two land behind you and you smirk, not bad.

Pushing forward you begin to run, turning the corner immediately to your right. Your mind cant help but wonder to think of Din, if he was okay-alive. He infiltrated your brain and the thought of him being outnumbered and- he could take care of himself, you knew he could. He was more than capable, you’d be honoured to die for him in battle, he was a great warrior. You came to a storage room, the large black plastic crates stacked on top of another, the stale smell of dust and musk filling your nostrils and creating an itch you desperately wished you could scratch.

"Cover me." Fennec states to Bo Katan and they nod, you go around the left side of the crates, troopers step out from their hiding positions and began shooting at you, you start firing your blaster at them and take down two within seconds of the ambush. Diving to attempt to roll for cover behind a nearby crate was a decision you’d come to regret as the blaster shot hit you, your right shoulder searing in pain, your skin wet with blood around your shattered shoulder armour plate, you grit your teeth and shoot the trooper as he rounds the corner, your body half lying-half sitting with your free hand holding your shoulder. "Damnit." You mutter and stand up, meeting up with the others who had taken out the other troopers in the room, clearing the area.

The agonising pain in your shoulder became harder to ignore as you’re surrounded once again, troopers seemingly never ending. Your blaster jams and you grunt loudly trying to get it unstuck, "my guns jammed," you grunt, "Ill cover you." Fennec confirms as she covers you. A pained grunt leaves your lips frustration playing a part in your irrational decision to use your gun to knock the troopers to the ground while Fennec shoots them. Your shoulder burns at the sudden jerking movement of your arms only provoked the wound to bleed more, the blood soaking through your clothes down your ribs. Your armour glistened with blood under the white lights in the hallways.

"Thanks." You praise Fennec breathlessly, turning away from her, shielding your wound and running into the elevator. "You’ve been hit." Bo Katan points at you, the blood is running down your bare forearms, you quickly wipe it away with your hand and your face contorts in pain. "It’s just a surface wound." You lie, "y/n," Fennec starts but you raise your hand to silence her. "We knew the risks coming into this." You affirm harshly, "I’m not stopping until I’m dead or the damn child is safe." You grunt, chest heaving from the array of words you managed to speak out loud, the adrenaline fuelling your body and determination to find Grogu. "Okay. if you say you’re fine, then you’re fine." Fennec says, agreeing, knowing it would do no good to argue.

You continue to fumble with your jammed gun, wincing at the pinching ache of your shoulder, "dank farrik." You spit through gritted teeth, gaining attention of your allies. "Son of a mudscuffer." You grunt, your hands wrestling with the blaster. "Are you sure you don’t need any help?" Bo Katan offers, you grunt in frustration and slam the blaster on the floor of the elevator with both hands and the blaster finally powers up. You sigh in relief, "I think that did it." Weapon pointed towards the opening elevator door, you ignore the warning of the troopers to stop and surrender, shooting them down without remorse or second thought. The seething pain only fuelled you, controlling your actions as you attempt to push behind the physical and mental ache this mission has caused you over the weeks.

Rushing forward, your legs carry you faster than the others as you’re desperate to breach the bridge, blasting the troopers that occupied the room, their grunts of defeat were deafening as they fall to the ground, their armour clanking against the hard steel floor. Koska disarms the weapons system as the last of the crew were shot. "Wheres Gideon?" Bo Katan questions, the question hanging in the air, no one could give her an answer.

Searching the room frantically, you’re pulling the chairs from the desks, squatting down and racing around too quick for your legs to compute, your legs almost giving out on you. "Wheres grogu?" You panic, for the first time on this mission, your allies could see your composure crumbling, your inhibitions to keep this facade up-kept flew away with the adrenaline as you realised he wasn’t here. "No. No. No." You scream, your chest rising with conviction and body slumped on a chair, dropping your gun which met the floor with a clank. Gripping the wound on your shoulder you wince at the ache that spread from your shoulder to your arm and back.

"It was all for nothing." You sigh defeatedly, the child nowhere in sight and no sign of Din to show that he had made it through alive. Fennec walked up to you, placing a hand on your un - injured shoulder and pats it softly, bringing you a silent comfort. "They’ll meet us here, let me wrap this up while were waiting."

You nod, a silent thank you as she detaches the remains of your useless shoulder piece of armour thats mostly shattered, ripping a segment of her own long sleeve shirt to wrap around your shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding, all it did was soak up what was saturating your burning skin and provide a slight illusion of weightlessness, relieving some of the ache in your back.

A whoosh is heard from the door as it opens to the bridge and moments later and Din enters, Grogu in hand and Moff Gideon in cuffs, grovelling as Din pushes his further into the room. Din looks at your body as you stagger to stand, a piece of your armour missing and an injury on your shoulder weeping through the rag that kept blood from spilling onto the floor beneath your feet. "You two made it," you murmur in relief at the safety of them both. "What happened?" Bo Katan questions Din as he walks in wielding a black sword, a white glow surrounding it as it hummed. The sight of seeing Din wield such a weapon had your heart beating in your throat, Fennec sent you a look and the heat flushed as the redness of blush crawled up your neck. If anyone would as, you would blame the blood loss.

"He brought him in alive, thats what happened." You state, Bo Katan’s eyes widening at the sight. "And now the New Republic's gonna have to double the payment." You say firmly as you walk up to Din and grogu, smiling as he cooed at you, making grabby hands at you, without hesitation you pick him up, holding him to your chest. Hearing grogu whimper, you pull back and he points to your shoulder which Din is starring at, "I know buddy, I’ll be fine." Din knew you were lying with the way your voice wavered, your body’s weakening state concerned him immensely.

"Thats not what shes talking about." Moff butts in, everyone turns to him in confusion, he turns to Bo Katan with a smirk, "why don’t you kill him now and take it?" He teases. You push Moff to the ground and stand pathetically half-slumped in front of Din, creating a space between them, a caution warning, as long as you were standing she would have to go through you. Bo Katan eyed the sword, seemingly considering if it were worth the effort to start this battle. "Its yours now." Moff laughs from the floor. "What is?" Din questions from behind you, stepping to your side protectively. "The Darksaber. It belongs to you." You look at the weapon in Dins hand, glowing fiercely before Din retracts the blade.

He steps forward in front of Bo Katan and offers the weapon. "Now it belongs to her." The woman refused to take the weapon, "She cant take it, it must be won in battle." Moff chuckles from beside them, instigating Bo Katan to start a battle with Din. Anxiety creeps upward in your chest as you watch on hopelessly, holding the child in your arms.

"In order for her to wield the Darksaber again, she would need to defeat you in combat." Moff looking between the two, Din offers the Darksaber again, "I yield. It’s yours." "Oh, no." Moff chuckles, a stupid grin on his face, "It doesn’t work that way," he states, standing to his feet.

You snap, your body’s strength withering, frustration of the threats towards Din had dark thoughts consume your mind. “Enough of this. You thrive off people’s misery Gideon, I’ve had enough.” You place the child on a nearby chair, turning him away from the scene you’re causing. You kick Gideon’s knees, and he falls to the floor, reaching for your blaster you point it at him, “wait, wait, wait,” he puts his cuffed hands up in surrender, the others watching you with wide eyes. “We’re letting him go. Put the blaster away.” Din pleas with you, his voice sweeter than nectar as he speaks to you. “He doesn’t deserve to live.” You conclude, the conviction in your voice worried Din, you’d become ruthless in your efforts to rescue Grogu, he didn’t recognize you and guilt swirled around him as he wondered if he had a part to play. “We can walk away from this. We can leave.” Please come with us. With me.

Your heart races, thundering like a thousand horses, weakness causing your arm to drop as the weight of the gun, and Din’s words suddenly became too much.

“We’ll handle him, take the child and go.” Bo Katan advises, “you’re an admirable warrior Nimerah, the name suits you well.” You give a curt nod her way and begin to make your way to the hangar Fennec contacts Boba and he’s prepared you for boarding within a parsec. Fennec struggles to hold you upright as your body begins to slump, the blood loss making you drowsy, your eyes dropping and the color falling from your face. Boba assist you to lie down in his cot where you fall down onto it, your eyes blur as tears fills your waterline, limbs shaking as you go into shock, a coldness nipping at your limbs as your body burns up simultaneously. “Come on Nimerah, gonna fix you up, just stay awake.” Boba becomes a puddled blur of colors as your eyes flutter, your body begging for them to close for some rest, exhaustion overcomes you and you can only think of one thing, “need Din, please.” Din hears your weak voice and the way you whimper his name has him sat by your side without hesitation. “I’ll get the medi pack.” Boba hurries. Din removes his gloves to expose his cold hands, the coolness on your forehead provided some relief as he checked your temperature. “You’re burning up.” Your body begins to shiver and your lips chatter in disagreement, “help me Din, I don’t want to die.” You sob, tears falling freely down your red cheeks made Dins heart swell. “Keep your eyes open cyar'ika.” You mumble incoherently and it sends panic coursing through him as your eyes begin to close, he shakes you gently and finds the pulse point on your neck, feeling the weakened thrumming of your heartbeat his cool fingers sending goosebumps down your neck. His other hand strokes your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear. “You have to make it. Yooba solus ner aliit.” You are my family.

[pupil-of-law]

@mettleborn

Though it was late in the evening, and the townhouse had been empty and silent all day, the sound of the busy thoroughfare outside, uproarious with the traffic of pedestrians and the swift flow of horses and hansoms, now thrummed down below. Adelheid’s brother was not looking at her, but examining a stack of papers at the desk he stood at.

‘My judgment is final,’ he said curtly. ‘Indeed if it was not before, you may be assured that it now most certainly is. I could not have made a greater error in sending you into the field. Were you not my own flesh and blood I would not have begrudged the Ottomans the diplomatic right to your imprisonment and sentence… But you’re home now.’ He seemed to soften, slightly, and even lifted his small beetle-black eyes to her. He came out from behind the desk to approach his sister, shadows under his eyes showing in the dim light from the lamp on the glass-topped coffee table where Adelheid sat. Friedrich Zeitzler’s hair was sparse and macassared; a silky gradation at the temples of pale grey to darker brown partly obscured by a pair of small round spectacles. A dark, smooth moustache sat above his colourless lips. He reached out perfunctorily to take Adelheid’s palm and meet her eye. ‘Dr Joachim Behren. He remains a man of significant influence and generous sponsorship; you may have read some of his old speeches at the Reichstag during your school days. He is a keen member of the International Eugenics Congress, and believes in good breeding. This is a high compliment.’ Pausing for a moment to appreciate the limpness of Adelheid’s recedent hand, and to notice her eyes glittering with fury, her lips parting to issue an objection, he frowned in incredulity.

‘Don’t you dare speak. Your conduct makes it clear you haven’t the slightest concept what we are are attempting to achieve in this war. Do you think that I - that Germany - are such spendthrifts of human life that we would allow the casual larceny of an entire generation, for so common a reason as you might employ when deciding what evening dress to wear? Do you truly think the world is so fashioned? That the human good comes about by the mere whim of politicians. No. Peace and prosperity for mankind takes violence you cannot imagine, and sacrifice which you will soon appreciate. You are German. You owe this duty to your homeland and by God I will make sure you fulfil it! Like the rest of us.’

Suddenly there were footsteps, and a flurry of movement from between two high stone pillars at the entrance of the room. Zeitzler turned, rubbing his reddened temple with distress, to the noise. ‘Sebastian, is that you?’ ‘Guten Abend Geheimrat,’ came a deep bass voice in reply, and two men lumbered in. Sebastian, in shirtsleeves and a sweat-slick brow from dancing and drinking all night at the Princesse De Léon’s debutante ball, was smiling victoriously; his moist bright eyes catching for a moment to fix on Adelia, before sweeping away again. His companion, Baron Sipolje, wearing his Order of Maria Theresa on his breast, was an expensive looking man, effete and well-groomed, Zeitzler’s closest confidante. He made a low bow when he noticed Adelheid, and gave her a sinister, mincing smile as if he knew her fate better than she did. Throwing his hat and stick onto the armchair next to her almost as if to see if she would flinch, he noted: ‘Dear heart, what a face. Mata Hari act not quite work out, hm? I told your dear brother as much before you left. No, no, see-' he made so bold as to reach out his stubby fingers to her cheek to turn her face to the light, tutting and shaking his head. ‘Far too striking. Those cheekbones.’

Rather than aiding his sister, Zeitzler had already turned to Sebastian to study his agent with a long, circumspect look. Under its cold pressure, Sebastian merely leant back against a bookcase and spoke for the first time in a hoarse, soft voice; his eyes heavy but serene and untroubled. ‘Domine, me immundum.’ There was another brief silence, before Zeitzler responded: ‘Non, purus es.’ Sebastian swallowed, and when Zeitzler told him to go and rest he did so without another word.

‘You will not see him again,’ Friedrich turned his head to address Adelheid, before going to fetch the papers from his desk for her to sign. ‘He leaves tomorrow for the Belgian Frontier. If he returns, it will not be to Germany. Your sole and chief concern from this night on is the happiness of your husband. This is for your own good, as well as the good of your family and your country. Do we understand one another?’

[vriskaserketdaily]

i feel like as a thief Vriska kind of… absorbs those she sees as role models into her personality? like when in enviornments that are stressful (all of them for her, at least when shes alive. girl is constantly in fight mode but thats a different topic) she models herself after Mindfang when shes feeling a little evil or The Summoner when she wants to play revolutionary. In the bubbles shes more passive as she stops trying to be plot relevant, mimicking the closest person to her (John, Meenah, i fink tavros to an extent but also i think they rubbed off on eachother in tavrisprite). Idk, it could be a Vriska thing or it could be a thief thing. what do you think?

i think this is a vriska thing, because our other thief (meenah) does not do this. meenah is incredibly confident and secure in her persona, while vriska . . . isn't. as you said, she's in a near-constant state of bluffing in both life and death, and the difference between a bluff and a persona is that you can call a bluff.

and i feel like throughout the comic leading up to and immediately following her death, vriska does have this subconscious mindset of 'please, please call my bluff' but when anyone does it's always a Test and the only way for vriska to win is to double down, gambling with the lives of other kids, her own friends, and eventually entire universes, until it reaches the point where the tables must flip and vriska calls terezi's bluff.

but terezi was never bluffing, and had already made up her mind to put a stop to the escalation. SH3'S BL1ND, R3M3MB3R?

and we must remember that vriska's aspect is light, rather than heart---she doesn't steal personalities or relationships, she steals the spotlight (and, i guess, luck). this adoption of traits of people she wishes to emulate is unrelated to her tendency to steal the show, to beat the odds, and to come by knowledge through duplicitous means.

personally, i think the character informs the class, not the other way around. classpects ARE predetermined from the moment the player enters the game, BUT i do believe players have the free will to develop in such a way prior to the game that while their aspect and lunar sway may have been set in stone, the duds they'll be rockin' when they rise from their quest bed are (conditionally) a wild card. A confident, braggadocious, abraisive personality and an ability to instigate and escalate drama are two of the big commonalities we see in our thieves (among other things) and whether this comes from a natural tendency to be like that or an ossified survival tactic in the face of unimaginably gruesome horror (or a mix of both!) does not matter to the game.

if vriska had grown up in a place of safety and security, she wouldn't have developed the necessary "hallmarks" of the thief class and probably wouldn't be recognizable to us as vriska anymore. see: aranea and (especially) vr*ssy.

TL;DR, vriska doesn't act like that because she's a thief, she's a thief because she acts like that.

[floatingaroundinmymind]

Prologue for a fantasy story; feedback appreciated!

The world's savior was found on a Tuesday. 

On a single patch of green grass amid frost tipped weeds and crystalline ants lay a single man-sized egg in the village square. The children found it first and then the fishermen and farmer's wives. The elders spoke in hushed whispers, spun silvery tales of prophets and heralds to man, saviors in times of need. And so a gilded shrine was built to honor the Prince of Men, a nest with the good down, adorned with the finest silks and purest gold. 

And into the walls men carved such intricate patterns, eyes of the village to watch and protect the young prince--the grandest being an ornate carving of the imagined prince among his people. The women produced their fineries, dresses and robes, stockings and cloaks with which their skilled fingers distilled every ounce of hope. There was deliberation, talk of how to mold the new angelic host, of how he should come to know man and the world of men in the days since prosperity. 

Oh, but it was folly. 

Seed of discontent, sown by human or heavenly hands? Flower of malevolence in full bloom on crimson earth, beneath smoky skies; new ashen snow in frozen summer. And the egg, in a golden cage. 

No one was there when the egg hatched. The scant sunlight filtered in through the rocks above, seeping into cracks between yellowed blades of grass and craggy holes in weak, sputtering spurts of life. And as it hit the large, pale slabs of raw stone and shone on the streams of water which trickled off their crumbling steps, Aurea found they were alone. 

They crawled out of the egg, amniotic fluid spilling onto the previously untainted floor. The bare ground was cold and stark against the warmth of the egg and Aurea felt its solid, stony weight beneath her feet. 

The gilded cage sat upon a raised pedestal and through the golden slats, Aurea caught glimpses of greenery, the trickling of water dropping off into some dark abyss beyond the reach of both the sun's rays and their eyes. Aurea shrugged off the cracked bits of shell that clung to her body, the sticky residue from the egg clinging to each piece. 

Against the bars closest to the stairs were a wooden bowl, cloths of some sort, thick boots, and a folded set of garments upon which a crown of branches sat waiting, watching as if it too awaited their arrival. The bowl was large and filled with water for washing, the fabric beside it needlessly ornate for what amounted to washcloths.

Instinctively, she cupped the water in her hands and rinsed her face, felt the sticky fluid run off it and reached for a washcloth, wiping the rest off. Aurea's face reflected back at them in the ripples—blonde hair curling around the edges of their face and ice blue eyes searching for some sense of self in the not quite child nor adult face that stared back. Tearing her eyes away from the false self, the process was repeated with the rest of their body until the water remaining in the bowl had turned a dingy yellow, the remnants of birth clinging to the bottom. 

Cleansed as they were, the slight chill in the air had now grown to a freezing magnitude, aided by the dampness of Aurea's hair and the absence of the egg's warmth. It was then that she turned her attention to the garments beside the now dirtied washcloths. Stacked neatly there were four pieces in the set, accented by golden threads and vibrant purple hues with an off-white serving as the base, earthen browns meant to balance the more striking elements.  

She held the garments in her hand, noted on one there were holes for arms, a head and more confusing ones on another piece. Aurea stared at the large carving on the wall furthest from them, a winged herald among ground people. The regal figure was clothed in strange robes, trousers and fine boots—the very same set neatly folded before her.   

Aurea turned away from the carving feeling the stone figures' eyes lingering long beyond their rocky casing and attempted to dress herself. 

As she slipped on the clothing still she felt eyes watching. It was a low hum in the background that made its presence known louder with each passing minute. Half-dressed, Aurea turned back to glance at the stony faces on the wall and noticed on the opposite wall a pattern. 

Eyes.

There were eyes carved into every wall surrounding the great gilded cage.

They didn't roam—there was no life behind them. They simply stared at her half-naked asking questions that only the ancient hands of men knew, answers that the wind pretended not to know as it blew through the cavern. Their silent, ever-present gaze never once left Aurea and she could feel each pupil on her body, covering her whole being like a million unwanted hands touching, poking, and prodding at her like she was an animal in a cage. 

There was nowhere to hide. 

She turned, suffocated by the prying eyes, feet slipping on the water from before and reached for the gilded bars as she fell. The bars gave way and Aurea hit the ground—the cage door was open.  

The large golden door now lay wide open, the mysteries of the world outside the cage waiting. Its hinges were old and worn but still functional—the same could not be said for the lock whose chain was rusted brittle and broken, the result of many years left unattended.  

Still feeling the burning gaze of the carvings, Aurea finished dressing, threw on the boots and wrapped herself in the massive cloak provided, the fur-lined hood tickling her cheeks. They stepped carefully over the cage threshold and took in the cavern with caution and awe.

From atop the pedestal holding the cage there were a set of stairs which led down to level ground. On either side of the steps were countless stalagmites guarding a large lake which seemed to circle around the base of the steps, back into some far corner beyond sight. Far above even the cage, there were cracks in the cave ceiling through which small rays of light penetrated and water from some unknown source seemed to endlessly trickle in, dripping off the stalactites and down onto the stalagmites and into the subterranean lake.       

As Aurea descended the stairs, small pillars of white came into view. Dozens of old candles were littered at the base of the steps and led outward into a narrow corridor, ancient wax drips dried on their bulky stalks. 

Alongside the candles were dried bundles of herbs, some ashen and all bound with thin string, the likes of which Aurea could faintly smell mingling with the earthen scent of the cave. 

They followed the trail of candles in darkness through a winding path. The only constants discernible were the drip of water, the occasional streak of light and the sense of a gradual ascent. When the path opened up once more, there was a great out pour of light and with it a scant few steps which led to somewhere outside the cave.

The outer world was immobile. Beyond the threshold was a vast expanse of white blanketing the ground as far as the eye could see and hazy in the distance, a faint plume of smoke against the slowly darkening blue sky. Aurea stepped forward as if on impulse, one foot in front of the other as she stared at the source of the smoke and felt snowflakes float onto her nose and ears, dampening both with their presence. 

The wind's chill penetrated even the thick coat and trousers that Aurea wore and they had grown hungry, an ache seating itself deep in the pit of their stomach. The smoke in the distance was far, but close enough to reach, Aurea thought. And off she went towards the source.

*

"Wren, come tend the fire." 

Grandma sat curled by the fireplace on a much loved rocking chair. The wrinkled face still held the woman's countenance well, playful nature coming through in her twinkling ancient eyes and calm voice. Oh, but she was always like this, lightly complaining about the ache winter brought to her brittle old bones—Wren never minded. 

"Just a moment."

Wren moved slow down the stairs, the outline of her lithe form barely visible in the faint firelight and short brown hair swaying with each step. 

There was something comforting about the way Grandma called her each winter night, the loose routine they had settled into as Wren talked about the stars and Grandma taught her about the past, the olden days most had forgotten. Grandma had always said winter was the season for dreams and so Wren thought it seemed fitting that each passing winter felt a little like a dream itself—lazy and uncertain but with a hopeful tone. The slow meandering pace of the nights overshadowed the brief periods of sunlight called day as the long arm of time stretched itself thin again. It would be a matter of time before spring came and brought with it all the beauty of nature.  

Until then on tonight, like most nights, Wren was relegated to retrieving firewood from the storehouse and preventing the small flame that gave life to all inhabitants from going out. 

"Be careful, the wolves have been restless lately—strange men in the area. Be on your guard." 

"I know, Grandma. I learned from the best after all." Wren winked, patted her hunting knife in its sheathe and lit the lantern like always, the wick seized up in dancing flame. 

Shrugging on a thick coat and slipping into equally warm boots, she turned the front door knob and stepped out into the cold, started down the steps and towards the direction of the storehouse.  

It was a short walk from the main house to the storehouse indicated by loosely staked poles with symbols carved on them so one could navigate nearly blind if they had to. The lantern lit up the path as Wren walked, snowflakes dappling the black wool coat she wore. Undoing the latch and pushing the door open, she grabbed a few hefty pieces of wood and made her way back out, nightly routine nearly over.

The pale moonlight was at its peak now, an imperfect crescent that cast a lonely gaze over a stark white land covered in coniferous trees of varying shades and exposed rock.   

And there face down in the snow, far from Wren but just close enough, was a girl with blonde hair. 

[fireflyhwufanficwriter]

My thoughts on Dr. Stone’s S03E14 (“Deal Game, Test of Wit”)

(Safe to read for anime-only folks.)

My thoughts after watching Season Three, Episode Fourteen:

01. Why, Kirisame, why? :(

02. A second look at the Medusa, and at Kohaku and Ginro's heroism! They're absolutely correct to have completely faith in Senku and their friends!

03. The stars in this opening song are honestly just GORGEOUS...

04. It's very cool how in the previous two times we saw the opening song, Kohaku and Ginro's petrified statues are in shadow, because the scene would have been a spoiler - but now that it's happened, we see a different, more colorful version of the shot and it clearly shows them now. Awesome detail, animators! :D

05. The title of this episode is, "Deal Game, Test of Wit!" :)

06. Yuzuriha has been revived! Taiju's so respectful!

07. Gen's right - she's so good and fast with those stone statue puzzles now!

08. Chrome's back, and Kaseki's now very confident that he and Chrome are maker buddies!

09. It was very sweet of Suika to make a paper hat for Ukyo... who has also now been revived!

10. Umm... thanks for the close-up shot of Kohaku, Ginro, and GINRO'S BLOOD having just been turned to stone... :'( Also, how did they get into that pose, when Kohaku's face was clearly apart from Ginro's body while they were turning to stone?

11. Everybody looks sad and concerned, but Chrome looks agitated, and Senku... whoa, look at his right eye! :O That is a serious, SERIOUS expression! He means BUSINESS!

12. (Although... I THINK his fist was clenched in the manga...?)

13. Would have liked it if Suika had expressed a bit more concern about Kohaku... She just dove right into the Soyuz information XD

14. The five wise generals are off! They're gonna collate their information, and strategize about the next course of action... and... four of them are going to explain to Chrome how they know there's only one Medusa...

15. I like how Chrome pushed everybody's panels apart while he was asking for clarification XD

16. "He runs the show" shouldn't be an idiom that Chrome would use... There's theater shows, but still, I don't think he'd be casually using that idiom... AND Amaryllis agreed. I suppose the Japanese dialogue probably directly translates to something else, and this was just the closest phrase meaning-wise?

17. Mozu! And Taiju!

18. He is speaking so languidly... he really is not threatened at all by the kingdom of science. And I'm so glad Taiju can protect Senku and Yuzuriha this time, by putting himself between them and the enemy! Although he MAY have done that in the second season as well; I should check sometime...

19. Before, it was Ryusui, and now, it's Ukyo who's the one who is thinking to get at least one person out alive!

20. Don't feel bad, Amaryllis! The kingdom of science really need the information you gave them! Of course you had to come!

21. Good job, Chrome! :) You intuition is totally baad! :D

22. It's just weird how smooth and curved and cartoonish Mozu is the anime. He felt like a huge, powerful threat in the manga, but here... I don't know; the way he's drawn makes him seem a bit goofy?

23. Poor Gen... XD It's up to you! Everybody's lives are depending on you!

24. Senku, shh! You might get us all killed! XD

25. Manipulation technique #00: "Pretend your weak card is your ace of spades!"

26. Manipulation technique #01: "People feel more solidarity with you if you're next to them, not opposite them!"

27. Manipulation technique #02: "Try saying something that's a little bit off-the-mark. The urge to correct you will be so strong that they might sign on to something they never intended to!"

28. (Hah! Mozu's power may be one hundred, but according to the arithmetic battle, Kohaku's is one thousand! :D ...Of course, I think the old system also put Ginro at one hundred, so... um... maybe they're not using the same units... XD)

29. ...See, that Mozu frame was supposed to look menacing, but he just looks so silly in the anime for some reason...

30. I suppose that glowing aura around the Medusa makes it otherworldly, but there's NO way Ibara would hold it while it was still glowing XD He's much too cautious to do that!

31. Does Mozu have the same voice actor as Tsukasa? Their voices sound a bit alike...

32. This hidden, almost-evil-looking face of Gen's is like the face he made in Season One, when he had the idea to get everybody in Ishigami Village to make a telescope for Senku's birthday! :)

33. Manipulation technique #03: "It's called psychological reactance. When you feel like you're being forced to do things, your need to maintain control causes you to reject things!"

34. What is that tied-up part on the back of Ukyo's clothing...?

35. Manipulation technique #03.1: "The way to win a deal isn't to make the other person feel defeated. It's to show servitude, setting out a false red carpet for them and stuff. That's what really matters!"

36. Oooh, Senku and Mozu are shaking hands, formalizing their (super temporary, haha) alliance!

37. It's cute that Mozu was really surprised out when he heard Senku's voice through the earring - and very understandable!

38. He's so extra; he has to be ROWED back XD

39. Gen was so worried and relieved... but he did an AMAZING job negotiating for the kingdom of science, and more importantly, for his friends! :D He's such a talented mentalist and manipulator! :O

40. And Chrome's just like, "Well, as long as Mozu's planning on killing us LATER instead of RIGHT NOW, we're good!" XD

41. Gen totally deserves all the congratulations, and a very long, relaxing break!

42. "Mozu joined the party (for now)!!" And he beat up his fellow Treasure Islanders (which Gen seemed to approve of XD) in order to make them believe that he's an even stronger warrior than... himself, hahaha!

43. And that's it for this episode! Gen was, without a doubt, ten billion percent the MVP for this episode; his negotiation tactics were incredible! :O I have a theory about the episode after this one. I can't talk about it now because it would be spoilery, but I will when it's safe to do so! The next episode's title is "Battle in Three Dimensions," and it's going to air tonight! :)

https :// fireflyhwufanficwriter . tumblr . com / MyDrStoneEpisodeMangaThoughts

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

This may come out a bit rushed cuz m getting it out of my system in one go at midnight Yes, I know drafts exist but I like to live dangerously ANYWAY.

There is so much to unpack about that scene where Dr. Robotnik says to Stone to pin himself to the wall and proceeds to say a lot of mean things.

1. Stone doesn't just approach the wall like he's about to measure his height, no, he grabs himself and pins himself to the wall hard. Respecting Robotnik's words to a T. It seemed like this is not the first time, but something they do. Its a thing. ...another one of their things. Like the casual training-like hit instead of a hi5 at the bar ("You let urself exposed"), asking Stone to translate in simple terms what he said, bringing the latte...

2. The context. Robotnik was angry and frustrated because another one of his attacks had just failed, loosing precious robots too. And what does Stone do? His only and closest human being, his trusted partner in crime? Blurs out a praise of his enemy. "They're real survivors". This puts salt on the wound, and stabs on top of it, because HE is supposed to be the survivor, the one on top, the one who overcomed everything and should overcome anything that comes. I'd go even further to say it was another crime added to Sonic's list to steal a moments fraction of Stone's admiration, that should be focused on HIM only. Like, how dare he be impressed??

3. So, Robotnik reacts as he usually does, redirects his frustration and unloads it on the closest person as a mean, hateful, condescending rant. It was his repeated hate speeach too, unrelated to the actual incident. With how he hates humans and he won't miss Stone etc etc. (We all know he'd miss him..he actually did, and admited).

4. Stone just stands there like, again, this is a thing they do. He didn't even seem hurt by his words, probably because he knows Robotnik isn't mad at him, its just how he steams off. (And looking at Robotnik he probably steams off as often as Stone's steams his austrian goat milk)

5. The leaning in so close Stone could feel Robotnik's breath on his face, kabedon style, might help too. Not sure but I think Robotnik became aware of the closeness only towards the end. The moment being interrupted (or saved) by noticing the glow of Sonic's needle in Stone's chest pocket.

6. Unhealthy coping mechanism performed, frustration and anger lvls back too normal, quite intimate human interaction checked, new focus target unlocked.... Robotnik has been reborn in less than 5 minutes. They can go on about the day like usual, no hard feelings. Time for Robornik to work and Stone to go make themselves some latte.

Even when Stone brings his latte, the speech pattern is quite aggressive "Do I look like an imbecile? Of course I want a latte, I LOVE THE WAY YOU MAKE THEM".

I think Stone does know Robotnik good enough and read his nuances. Might be the only one who does.

It might seem like Stone's is ok to be a punching bag because he is also loved, in an evil way... but it doesn't feel true, and I can't pinpoint why. I swear there is more to Stone than meets the eye.

[used-organs]

ACADIAS ORIGIN

1985

The thunder roared outside, causing the St. Antonia Hospital to shake. The rain poured down like bullets. Children waiting in the lobbies stayed close to their parents. Doctors were scrambling to keep everything under control, if the power went out they needed to be prepared. In the maternity ward, a blood curdling scream was ringing in everyone’s ears. In room 34 a woman was in labor. The staff was told an officer found her out in the rain unable to walk, and brought her in. Two nurses were trying to restrain her as she flailed and kicked her legs, while two doctors were trying to assess her condition. Dr. Miller figured she has been in labor for several hours already sitting in the pouring rain. He was often pessimistic of his patients' chances, so his priority was the baby. Dr Garcia covered her ears, the woman’s screams were so loud they drowned out the sound of the rain. “What’s your name?” “How long were you outside?”

The nurses kept asking the woman. Their questions were only met with more screams. Then all at once, silence. The woman stopped, her eyes staring bloodshot to the ceiling, her legs were still as stone. The abrupt silence causes the policeman who found the woman to come into the room. What he saw would truly haunt him for nights on end. The bed the woman laid in was soaked in blood, an inhuman amount. Her once flushed skin tone, now white as the walls. Dr. Garcia sat in the corner, hands clenching her face. One of the nurses was retching in the bin. Between the woman’s lifeless legs sat an infant, covered head to toe in blood. To Dr. Miller’s utter disbelief, the newborn boy was alive. He laid curled up, not making a noise, not even a whimper. The policeman stomped over to Dr. Miller, grabbing his shoulders.

“What the hell happened here?!”

While the officer tried to get a response, the other nurse whose name plate said ‘Judith’ Clutched the silver cross around her neck. She slowly approached the baby. With gloved hands she picked him up. The blood stuck to the bed as he was pulled away. A blast of lighting flooded the room making the lights flicker while Judith held the child up. She saw that he was unfazed by all the commotion, the areas that were wiped from blood, slowly began to bleed again. Judith's hands trembled, the thing she was holding was no longer a child in her eyes.

“God help me.”

She said under her breath. Another lighting strike drew Judith's eyes to the room's laundry shoot, a one way trip to the basement.

-“I wouldn’t know what the protocol for this is, officer!” Dr. Miller shouted, throwing the man's hands off his shoulder.

“The woman looked completely normal when I picked her up, now here she is a lifeless husk!” “Now officer-“ Miller looked at his badge. “Officer Feuler. We need to still deal with the baby, before we handle her.” He pointed to the bed. “Wha-“ the two eyes follow a blood trail from the bed to the side of the wall closest to the door. Nurse Judith was on her knees clutching her necklace. The blood covered the laundry shoot, what was done couldn’t be undone.

Thank you for reading! 😊 I’ve had this written down for a while and just haven’t gotten around to posting it. And a doodle to bring it all together

[all-things-fic]

Is there anything in your dusty google docs that you speak of that you’d be willing to share?

This is a snippet of a one shot I was writing called Overdue. I actually loved it when I read it back the other night. Need to find my mojo again 💙

***

You didn’t walk now, you waddled.

That thought alone made you grimace as you held Harry’s hand and slowly made your way into the hospital.

The two of you had become so familiar with the place and the people at the Lindo Wing, within St Mary’s Hospital, having spent the last forty weeks attending as many hospital appointments together as possible.

“Wonder how many nurses will flirt with you today?” You voiced your question, watching Harry turn to look at you with a slightly amused expression as he pulled open a door and let you walk in front of him.

He didn’t comment, and you knew why. Harry found himself embarrassed by the actions of some of the medical professionals you had both encountered. Away from your midwife and consultant, some of the ladies who had been part of your journey at times could be slightly overwhelming.

One of your particular favourite moments was when Harry had mentioned, in passing, how he had a headache and it had taken two nurses to both offer and bring him a cup of water and two paracetamols to ease his pain.

You still mentioned it to this day, and probably always would. It wasn’t like you were the one housing and growing another human or anything!

Today was your forty week appointment with your consultant and if you were being truthful and honest, you weren’t entirely looking forward to being prodded and poked, no matter how necessary you knew it to be.

Regardless you tried to put on the best smile you could, and kept Harry’s hand with your own as you checked in with the lady receptionist, handed her your urine sample that had been requested of you to check your protein levels, and let her direct you down to the corridor that you knew well.

When you were shown to the consultation room, you entered with ease and found your usual position seated in the chair closest to where your doctor would place himself.

Harry lingered, his eyes darting to the brown folder on the table of the consultation room and fighting with himself to take a look inside.

Dr Miskry smiled broadly as he entered the room and his eyes set on you. You gave him in return what you hoped was a smile, feeling the way tiredness hit as you relaxed further into your seat.

“I know that face well,” he commented, turning to look at Harry before speaking his name and offering a firm, but gentle, handshake. “Ready for baby now?”

You awkwardly laughed, “Just a bit.”

“Let’s see,” he replied, hands quickly flicking through your notes that he opened onto his desk. “Forty weeks-

“- and three days,” you finished his sentence for him. You knew your voice sounded exasperated.

He smiled, eyes still down as he continued to read your hospital notes. “Have you just made it too comfortable in there for baby, Mrs Styles?”

“Think that’s the polite way of putting it.”

“It’s not uncommon to go over due dates with your first pregnancy, I can see that Julia reminded you of that at your thirty-eight week appointment.”

Julia, or rather Jules as you and Harry had come to know her, was your assigned midwife. A petite blonde lady, who didn’t appear more than eight stone wringing wet. You had often, in the least demoralising way, found yourself wondering to yourself how she would be able to deliver a baby.

She was always so pleasant. Unbelievably accommodating and welcoming every time you had seen her. The thought of her commanding a delivery suite never even crossed your mind.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “Reminded me that due dates were always more so guesstimated than anything.”

He looked up from the papers and at you then. His brown eyes held your gaze for a while, part of you finding it slightly unnerving. “And how have you been feeling in yourself?” He asked, after flitting his eyes towards Harry before coming back to you.

As you started to respond, you watched him begin to reach from his blood pressure monitor. Like second nature, you began to remove the denim shirt you had placed over your mid-length black (and stretchy, don’t forget) camisole dress to free up your arm for him.

“I’m not particularly sleeping well because I can’t get comfortable, but other than being tired and uncomfortable, I’m okay.”

“Any cramping or discharge?”

“Not since we spoke to Jules at week thirty-four.”

He nodded, “Ah, was this when you had Harry all in a panic on the phone to me thinking you were in labour?”

At the mention of Harry, you looked over at him and watched an unnecessary embarrassment wash over his being at the memory which had been brought up. He hadn’t handled you mistaking Braxton Hicks for labour too well those few weeks ago conscious of you being early.

“He’s too attentive for his own good,” you replied.

“No such thing,” Dr Miskry countered. “Let me have your arm so I can check your BP. It’s a good thing he’s so aware of everything. Sorry to talk about you like you aren’t here, Harry.”

Again you glanced at him, watching as he chuckled. “Used to it by now, I’m the fourth most important person in the room. ‘S actually quite nice for a change.”

Feeling the machine on your arm release, you let your eyes drop down to the machine reading before you heard, “Blood pressure seems fine, let me get another reading to be on the safe side. Did you do a urine sample before you came?”

Humming, you nodded, “Dropped it into reception as we checked in.”

“Great. I’ll pull those results up before you leave today.”

When your second blood pressure reading came back within a normal range, Harry helped you get back into your denim shirt and listened as you were asked to place yourself on the examination table.

“Just want to measure the size of your uterus, to see how all that is looking.”

Once comfortable and your dress had been pulled up under your ever-growing boobs, he began to use a flexible measuring tape. “We’re just measuring the distance from your pelvis area to the top of your uterus,” he explained, even though this was ordinary for you now having had this done since you hit twenty five weeks pregnant.

You lay flat and listened to your own breathing, head moving to the side as Harry sat in his chair, feeling like a spare part.

“You have definitely dropped,” he spoke, sliding the tape away from your skin. “Baby is still higher than we would like for 40 weeks, but that can change overnight.”

As you looked at him, you nodded before directing your eyes at Harry. “You may just be expecting a bigger baby. Harry here is quite tall, after all.”

You watched him smile softly over at you, knowing you were worried. “I’m just going to examine you,” Dr Miskry added.

Feeling him press around your stomach, you tried to relax and wait for the verdict rather than let your mind wander. “Head is down,” he started. “You aren’t showing as breech so that is one less thing.”

He went silent again as he continued to examine you. “Baby’s head isn't engaged yet-“

“What does that mean? Should they not be engaged by now as we’re considered overdue?”

You heard Harry’s question and the concern which laced his words, as you blinked and trained your eyes onto the ceiling of the room.

“The baby's head can engage anytime from one to four weeks before the birth,” Dr Miskry responded as he continued to press around your stomach. “Although it is normal for some women's babies not to engage until they start labouring, especially if it is a second or subsequent baby, but also in some first pregnancies.”

“But mainly second baby’s.”

Dr Miskry softly spoke your name as he heard the urgency in your response. Once he had your full attention, he smiled reassuringly, “It is normal for babies to not always engage until in labour. You are measuring well. There is nothing within your health records to cause concern. Would you like to hear the heartbeat?”

“Please.”

He nodded, removing his latex gloves and discarding them for a fresh pair. “Harry, would you like to try with the Doppler?”

“Yeah,” he stuttered, standing from his seat and noticing the way Dr Miskry gently nudged the purple latex gloves towards him. He quickly pulled out two pairs and silently thanked himself for going ringless, baring his wedding ring, that day.

“We’re going to use some conducting gel which is similar to the gel used in regular ultrasounds. It helps the machine pick up the baby's heartbeat.”

You hummed and lifted your head slightly as you watched the gentleman, with fresh latex gloves,easily squirt the gel to your skin. “Think baby’s shoulders should be around here. Harry?”

Your smile lifted at the mention of his name, seeing him appear again. “What we need to do is press here - a little bit of pressure,” he directed the last part of his sentence to you.

The device was gently pushed into your belly, the lower left side. “You can take it, Harry,” you heard, as you lifted again and watched as Harry’s slightly shaking hands took hold of the Doppler.

“How hard is too hard?”

“Keep the pressure like it is and if we patiently wait-“

You relaxed against the table as a swooshing sound filled the room not long after. Head knocked to the side you caught Harry’s eyes with yours, the two of you brimming with joy, as you softly smiled to each other.

“Good heartbeat, sitting at 132bpm. Right where we want it to be.”

As he spoke you heard - and felt - a sporadic thud.

“That would be a kick. Pressed too hard then, Dad,” Dr Miskry softly chuckled, speaking towards Harry. “They’re going to remember that!”

Harry’s face became meek, as you felt the pressure where the Doppler sat against your stomach lift slightly. His eyes dropped away from yours and you felt your chest jiggle as you laughed too.

“Happy?”

Looking between Dr Miskry and Harry, you nodded.

“Very.”