#Even though I mostly lurk I love everything about it all can do without some of the negative stuff but we move

[keylovesstuff]

Hiii Everyone!!!

I've been around for years now and have never introduced myself. mainly cause I just choose to vibe and enjoy the posts people share, but first time for everything. You can just call me Key, I'm 25 and I go by she/her. I enjoy a variety of stuff from manwha, manga, anime, video game franchises, and just a bunch of other animated media you name its probably buried down in my blog somewhere. Every now and then I get motivation to create fanfiction. I have only written works the Dragonball and Super Mario fandom All my works are under the "Keep Reading". My DMs and askbox here is always open if you ever want to chat I apologize in advance if I come across as a bit awkward (socializing is not a strong suit of mine) or if it takes me a minute to reply (adulting and hobbies am I right?), otherwise I'm a pretty chill person. Thats about it!

One of these days I really want to change my Penname...But I've had it for years now and I'm way too attached to it lmao.

Super Mario Fics: So a lot of these are Princess Peach centric and I'm just crafting up an origin story and some other events following the 2023 film. The links take you to the tumblr post but I have included the AO3 and FFN (for reading preferences) links either in the original post itself or in the case of my earlier stuff in the reblogs.

Lost And Found

A Learning Opportunity (2 chapters on both AO3 and FFN. They are both on the same post here)

Thoughts Over Tea

Aftermath

Finding The Balance

Little Events (Finished)

Chapter 1: The Dark

Chapter 2: A Decision

Chapter 3: The Coronation

Chapter 4: Proposals

Chapter 5: Changes

Fics Inspired by others:

Villainess Peach and Bowser Jr. (Inspired by the Player One Luigi AU created by Tiny-Prom and Casual-Derg). Please make sure to their blog's and check it out.

Dragonball Fics: The first fandom I have ever written for (and by penname you could probably tell what I read mostly) I have only shared them on FFN and AO3 until now. I was just starting to write fanfiction with the first two so they might be kinda cringe I guess but that's 16 year old me for you haha. gonna embrace the cringe by sharing it on here anyways.

Tournament Day

The Prince Before The Day ( I am never gonna finish that one or go back to it lol)

Bulla's Easter Day

Even when I started making fics I'm still not sure what goes through my mind when it comes to the title or chapter titles its literally the first thing that comes to mind and nothing after that but we will get it one day for sure.

Here's Some WIPs (that's both written and not) you guys can look forward too from me. I'll remove them and add them under the appropriate fic tags once I post them:

Uncle Yamcha fic: It is currently three chapters. The first one is him and Trunks, second is Marron, and the third one is Bra/Bulla. I really want to think of one for him and Goten but nothing has come to my mind. I just think he's more close to Krillin and Bulma where he'd interact more with their kids and I can't think of a scenario for him and Goten or what they would even talk about but maybe something will come. (I've currently sent this off to my Beta for review but lemme know if you guys want to see the un-beta'd version I have on here cause I'm really forward to sharing it)

Untitled EOZ fic following after Goku leaves the Tournament grounds to train Uub. This one sits at about 8k words (not sure exactly cause I added a bunch of notes at the end for my beta to see where my thoughts were going with it all) anyways this one focuses mainly on Trunks, Goten, Marron, Pan, and Bra as really the older kids look forward to what may lie ahead. A lot of it is just me focusing on the dynamics they have with each other. When I saw that dlc for kakorat was going to be focused on that one that really makes me want to share this one. Again let me know if you want to see that.

Based on this Ask here you can already see that I've completed 4 out of my 5 ideas so that leaves the other ones and maybe more if I think of anything else. All of these will probably be added to my Little Events fic. a few little ideas not shared here but I've thought about and have some dialoge in mind but haven't fully created yet.

I want to do something where Mario and Haru interact I just think it'll be so neat.

Maybe something where I do my take on introducing Sarasland and Princess Daisy. Probably along the lines of Peach meeting Daisy for the first time.

I need to hop on the wholesome bros. content at some point and I know I wanna try my hand with Mia and Pio as a part of it.

I think thats it for now...I'll probably add more if I think of something as having somwhere to put it down no matter how small it is can be nice to look at and push me towards getting it done.

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere concept hcs for Zoro (mix between romance and platonic please )

I've done some platonic stuff for him but... His actions are very similar between versions so I'll make this a mix, yeah.

Yandere! Roronoa Zoro Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Manipulation, Isolation, Fear of loss, Brief kidnapping mention, Dubious relationship/companionship.

Zoro seems like he'd be an intense yandere.

Sometimes he can be... If provoked.

Most of the time Zoro is quite calm and stoic.

He's an overprotective and observing yandere.

Meaning, most of the time he's just lurking from a distance.

It's the same thing regardless of if you're friends or he has feelings for you.

He tends to give you... supervised freedom.

Zoro is actually a very controlled yandere compared to other members like Luffy and Sanji.

While capable of snapping, Zoro is significantly less volatile.

He's less prone to starting fights... more likely to finish them instead.

When he fights? Ruthless.

Especially if it's over you.

Zoro isn't too possessive.

Even jealousy has a hard time showing in him without him bottling it up.

He's the member most likely to give you your freedoms as long as he's around.

Other than that he tries to isolate you from danger.

A big part of Zoro's character is the fact he's loyal and does anything to protect his crew.

Like Sanji, he's self-sacrificing in nature.

One of his biggest fears is actually not being strong enough.

Which no doubt shows in how he treats his obsession.

He's another yandere whose actions are purely to keep you safe.

He's lost people before and he's very loyal to his crew and captain.

Zoro no doubt says to you at one point he'll always protect you and never leave your side.

Like... as a promise.

We all know he takes promises seriously, right?

You'd probably laugh it off, saying you don't doubt it.

But this man ISN'T laughing.

He really WILL stick himself by your side no matter what it takes.

Zoro as a yandere acts like your shadow.

He's always around and never far.

He's very low key with his feelings.

When people ask him about how he feels about you, I can see him being defensive.

He no doubt feels some sort of love for you.

Be that as a friend, sibling, or lover... is up to you.

Mostly because, since he isn't the most affectionate person, there's little difference.

Zoro as a yandere is having a bodyguard, be him your boyfriend or not.

He acts like he's continuously judging those around you with a keen eye.

He's careful and attentive... The moment someone does try to inflict harm on you?

Zoro cuts them down before you have a chance to blink.

He doesn't mind spilling blood.

He's not sadistic, he doesn't take joy in it...

Yet it's a necessary evil he must do to protect you and all he cares about.

He's not one for mind games... but he is capable of some manipulation.

It's less lying and more just him trying to convince you to stay out of danger.

Which... danger happens to be around other people...

So you should also stay away from other people.

He means his words.

Be them promises or threats.

Zoro is not all bark.

He has a bite to back up what he says.

While he is the quietest and most out of the way yandere of the Straw Hats...

I imagine he's also one of the worst when it comes to rivals.

This man would commit murder coldly if it meant you were safe.

Your safety means everything to him.

As a natural protector and leader, Zoro sacrifices almost everything to keep you out of danger.

Even himself.

While one of the calmer yanderes with you, always respectful and caring of you...

He's also the most intense and ruthless if set off.

Not towards you, though.

Zoro could never hurt you.

He dedicates himself to protecting you.

His most toxic traits are his smothering behavior and violent need to keep you away from danger.

Which often leads to bloodshed and isolation.

As I said before, one of his biggest fears is failing to protect those he loves.

Which means... He's terrified of losing you.

Funny, isn't it?

When most look at Zoro, they don't think he fears a thing.

But no, he does, he fears not being strong enough...

He fears someday, the blood on his clothes will be yours.

It frightens him.

This fear is often what drives him to train and always stick by your side.

He's almost as obsessed with training to protect you as he is with you yourself.

Zoro can be terrifying to deal with.

Unless it's you.

With you? Zoro's gentle.

Around you, he shows a small smile.

While he's mostly keeping an eye on you from afar... Zoro will hold a conversation at times.

He likes to ask basic things, like how you are.

Although if he's romantic, I can see him slipping in some affection too.

I imagine Zoro's affection would include holding you in his lap against his chest.

That's his preferred thing to do, usually when romantic.

Platonically he mostly just gives you a pat on the back, brings you things you need, and watches over you.

The good thing is he's a quiet yandere.

He's not too smothering... Just a constant presence in your life lurking around.

He almost seems like a natural force, watching and waiting for something to harm you...

Just to swoop in and take care of the problem.

Speaking of taking care of problems, I can also see Zoro looking after you.

As in, giving advice and being a voice of reason to you.

Although most of the time it's him keeping you out of trouble.

Ugh, Zoro cares so much for you but rarely shows it.

I feel he'd even take naps around you just to hold you close to him.

You think it's by accident... It could be...

Yet sometimes he does it on purpose to reassure himself you're still there.

In a way, his obsession is a bit... tragic.

Scared to lose you? That's upsetting.

But it does not excuse him isolating you on the ship, controlling who you talk to, or the blatant murder....

Zoro, like many of the Straw Hat yanderes, is still a dangerous man no matter how much he cares.

So while he usually stays a distance away, his eyes are always on you as he keeps an eye on you...

Zoro is still one of the most dangerous yanderes in the crew.

He does not act first.

He acts after... and usually finishes the encounter.

I imagine he's also stubborn.

When he eventually tries locking you in your quarters, you can try to talk him out of it...

Yet he sticks by his obsessive reasoning.

Safety. It's always safety.

He doesn't necessarily kidnap.

You're most likely part of the crew, so kidnapping mostly includes keeping you in your quarters against your will.

Although, when the crew splits up later on?

Yeah, you're coming with him, so you could consider that kidnapping.

He refuses to see you leave his sight.

At some point he hopes you understand his reasoning.

Even if you didn't, it won't change anything....

He'll still keep you to himself.

Zoro sees himself as disposable compared to you.

He dedicates a good amount of his existence to you.

If anything happened to you?

Well...

Safe to say no one's living to see that aftermath.

[clericofgale]

Spoilers for Patch 5 and the whole game.

I posted my thoughts about the new ending Gale got in patch 5 on Reddit first, but I might as well post it here with some revisions. I'll say it, I love the god Gale ending. But it is NOT his good ending to me. Before I would never have pursued it, but now it is tantalizing to say the least. I'm into it though Gale the mortal is still my preference.

"Gale Dekarios cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep. You like so many things about me I'd have sooner discarded…"

By ascending Gale, you are killing Gale Dekarios. The nerd that hits on you in front of everyone while you're covered in zombie blood, procced to infodump an entire tangent to complement you, and yet somehow stick the landing to hit you with the most romantic poetry you've ever heard. A sensitive man who wears his emotions on his sleeve and wants to make the world a more beautiful place. An artist of the weave and a poet. The owner of the most overbearing tressym in the world. The moment the spell was complete, Gale Dekarios died and Gale the divine was born.

Even then, why is god Gale now so enticing to me unlike ascended Astarion? Because he loves you. He wants you by his side as an equal. It's actually sweet and romantic, just like all of Gale's romance is. I'm nothing if not a sucker for a romance.

"Follow my Lead" "Show me more. Show me it all." "I want you to seize the crown and make us a new world"

BeMyGod is the name in the data file for the boat scene where Gale asks you if you'll be with him when he seizes the crown. I know file names can be arbitrary, but if you agree to his proposal, you really are asking Gale to be your god. It's so easy to say yes. You're in the stars, Gale says I want to show you so much more, but it's not worth it without you. All you need to do is say yes. You're angry at Mystra who demanded so much of Gale, caused him such suffering and won't lift a finger to help. So You say yes. You love him. He loves you.

When Gale ascends, even in 6 months he is a different entity. The devs indicate: "His posture/demeanor here should feel slightly more aloof/detached than the regular Gale - he's been immortal for six months, his ego is as powerful as his magic. The real Gale's insecurities still lurk beneath his godlike confidence, as does his love for the player, but this is clearly a Gale setting out on a darker path."

The Gale here is a twisted version of the one we loved. His flaws are worse, he good traits have mostly disappeared. Namely his kindness and tolerance to deprecating humor. He no longer tolerates any perceived slight or jab. He doesn't let go of his bitterness towards Mystra. His ego is large yet fragile. You saw a glimpse of it at the ritual circle scene if you succeed in upstaging him in magic. Now it's only gotten worse. Yes even his insecurity. If you rejected him after accepting the proposal, Gale says this.

Tav: No, I think it's the end. What happened to the man I once loved? Gale: He's the god he deserves to be. I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?

He's also lonelier than ever. His last 6 months were in isolation, with nobody he could trust while dealing with the crown and celestial politics. Immortals don't really have friends. They have allies and lovers. He stops talking to his mother who was so dear to him. He develops a spell to polymorph people into Tara, his oldest friend who rejects him after ascension. He then develops a spell that summons Shadowdark ale and forces people to dance and be happy, just like the vignette he told you about the Yawning Portal. The third spell is Power word: Ruin. he's finally back to speaking death into being with a single word, just like he used to.

Gale wanted to be a god to make a better world, but now he's a neutral god answering prayers from any alignment. He doesn't care if they are Thayan wizards aiming for lichdom or unscrupulous Amnian merchants. Ambition is a neutral idea. Ambition also drives healers to develop a cure. For adventurers to slay monsters.

What's the most noticeable remaining good trait in Gale? Gale still loves you. He's much nicer to you if romanced. He refuses to be with you if you don't go with him because he doesn't want to hurt you. He admires your good heart if you want to honor the pact with Raphael. He calls you my love just like before. He will fulfill the promise sealed that night in the astral sea. All you have to do is say yes. And the ascension cinematic is a callback to the romance scenes from before.

"Follow my lead. Close your eyes. I have so much more to show you."

And you know what. I'll go with you. Even if we will eventually lose both our humanity in our folly, and dreams become nightmares. Even if I'll come to regret that night when I said yes to the mortal you, I don't want you to be lonely. Where ever you go, I'll go. You'll always have me. And I'll always have you.

As God Gale would say… "A toast then, to our myriad ambitions. May we each get what we deserve."

[stealerofthe2ndbraincell]

Had a rough morning, so I ended up rewatching Zanzibar at like 5AM.

And oh Henry you beautiful, beautiful dumbass....

(This is just me rambling btw lol)

I see people give Viktor in Once Removed a lot of (light hearted) flack for the utter shit show that was his assassination attempt. Whilst I do agree, the circumstances in that episode (through May's meddling with the door and everything else about where he ended up lol) were accidentally set up against him throughout.

How he handled it was definitely debatable (although without that we wouldn't have gotten the beautiful silk, pink dressing gown<3), but he certainly did have a disadvantage.

HENRY, HOWEVER, HAS NO EXCUSE.

Whilst a mystery twin brother being in the exact same hotel as Rico and swapping rooms with him was out of Henry's control, it really shouldn't have gotten to that point.

Henry is introduced as Rico's diligent literal security advisor and seemingly main line of defence most of the time. Ergo, Henry should be the main and only person that knows where Rico is at all times, especially if he has plans to MURDER HIM.

Not only that, but he also straight up just did not have a plan. 💀

In fairness, Henry does start to work out a plan. E.g. He wonders if he should create a story involving trying to "save" Rico before backing out of it, considers even thinking of an alibi at all and then questions if he has left his microphone on before committing the act. The problem is this is literal moments before he was "planning" to kill Rico. And none of them are thought through.

"No longer in the shadows can I lurk"

Henry leaves his room to attack at that point with no plan (that line may be implying that he is acting earlier than he should), completely forgetting if he left his microphone on (which would reveal EVERYTHING), and also having not even made a start on considering an alibi.

Henry's regicide "plan" feels mostly based on impulse and a severe lack of restraint.

He also straight up does not know how alibis work.

If Rico died whilst Henry was at the hypnotist's show, then he would have a fairly good alibi, but Henry plans is to kill him now AFTER - which destroys it entirely.

And he completely switches gears the moment Tracey ("Red") becomes an option.... and chooses to pay her to drug Rico so he can kill him later... Giving him a loose end that could definitely be traced back to him and kind losing an easy person to frame.

Whilst he couldn't fully plan around the mystery twin (although, being the security advisor of a literal Prince, Henry may have had access to potential "threats" of Rico's there. He even mentions said "enemies" to warn the guy at the start), Henry had all the resources at his fingertips to pull off the murder cleanly (unlike Viktor who had everyone else and a wrong victim in the way) and seems to not be aware of it or actively squanders it.

And then he completely screws any chance of getting away with a murder by needlessly threatening Rico's biological Dad to get to him with multiple witnesses in a public hotel hallway!!!

I'm almost convinced this Regicide bit was just an excuse for Henry to get some stabbing done with his tiny, bloody baby knife.

I do love it all though ofc.

I like to picture Zanzibar taking place just after various silly, failed murder attempts where Rico survives out of pure obliviousness à la Debbie and Fester's honeymoon in Addams Family Values (with a sprinkly of utter incompetence on Henry's side).

Also bonus bit that I find kinda cute nice:

I love a dumbass. <3

[gardeningforfun0714]

Hi everyone I’m sorry I haven’t updated as much as I planned, but I thought I’d share pics of how everything’s going in my garden (6/23/24)

The tomatoes have exploded and there’s lots of flowers. I’m hoping it’s not too hot and we actually get fruit this year (last year got so hot our tomatoes didn’t even flower during the normal growing season).

Next is the corn, which are also doing really well. It’s the sweet corn variety. Funny story, I planted the corn seeds without knowing you kind of need a lot to get a good crop because it’s wind pollinated. However, we have about 10 mature stalks and I’m hoping to get at least a small harvest. A few of the stalks are taller than me (5’3”/160cm) and one of the ears growing already has silk growing out of the ear.

Next are the cucumbers. One of the plants has a few eggs on the bottoms of the leaves so I used some Sevin dust. I’m hesitant to use neem oil because I’ve noticed lots of ladybugs in the garden and don’t wanna kill them.

The carrots are doing well after being transplanted. Unfortunately I don’t remember when I started the seeds so I’m not sure if they should be farther along by now (I believe I planted around late April/early May—late for seeds I know but I’ve got a long growing season and few frosts).

The various fruit trees/bushes/shrubs are doing well. Pictured are a thorny blackberry vine, an olive tree, a papaya tree, and a babcock peach tree. Everything is doing amazing. The blackberry is producing, the 4 peaches are growing and changing color while the olive, fig and papaya have been putting in some major growth/establishing.

Last is the melon patch. It’s also exploded and there are so many watermelons throughout the whole patch of varying sizes from bb-sized to the one pictured with my hand. I didn’t see any cantaloupe yet, but there’s lots of flowers. I haven’t actually gone into the patch due to how crowded it is (I’m hoping if we do get some we’d be able to see them when they get big enough). I’m estimating we have between 12-15 watermelon at least so far.

However, not everything is doing so well. The rabbits have been so destructive, they killed my producing pole bean, the peppers I transplanted into the ground and most of the radishes, leaving 2 left for us (I did start new seeds though because radishes are some of the quickest vegetables you can grow from seed to harvest).

For things I didn’t cover like the grapes, blueberries, raspberries, guava trees, the apple tree, the lemon tree, various flowers, onions, potatoes, and pineapples, they are all doing good as well. I also wanna add that I did start new bush beans/pole beans as well as various kinds of peppers (jalapeños, hot salsa blend peppers, golden bell peppers) in containers to make up for the ones that got chewed. Hopefully those will make a nice fall harvest. The potatoes are almost ready to be harvested and the blueberries and raspberries have had berries ripen one at a time due to how small they are (this is the first year for berries).

As for other things I have planned, I have a few art pieces I’d like to post if that’s something y’all are interested in. I also would love to talk about my experience with gardening and mental health but any and all posts related to that will be labeled with appropriate trigger warnings.

Thanks for all the support with likes/reblogs. Feel free to come lurk, talk, vent, ask, whatever. I just wanna inspire others that think they cannot grow things that they can. If you’d like to talk I mostly would like to talk about gardening/plants/mental health and how it impacts us as humans.

Happy growing🌱🌿💙

[stoner3xic]

Heyo! Please feel free to ignore this if you don't feel comfy with it, or this is not smt you do- I first wanna start off saying, I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE you blog! It is a safe space for me and I've been lurking in the shadows for some time heh- Anyways, do you have any tips for n0t 3ating with SUPER observant parents?

omg thank you sm😭💗💗

you’re so sweet honestly💗🫶🏾

um my parents are kinda neglectful and i just ignore them when they talk about my weight loss but

making excuses when its time for dinner, saying that you already ate out with friends, if ur allowed to go out and wtvr, or saying that your stomach hurts, or “ if you’re in school, you could say that you’ve been working really hard lately and that you’re super tired when you get home and “falling asleep” before dinner is made. if they ever get too suspicious, and you have to sit down with them and eat, you could cut up all the food into really really small pieces really take your time and move the food in a plate around so it can look like you were eating, maybe take super small bites and just act like ur chewing a lot of food, distract them by talking to them/switching the topic often, you could also convince them that you no longer like whatever they make most commonly, you can just say that you just grew out of it, you could also say that you just don’t like whatever is being made and pick a lower calorie option like some fruit or a yogurt bowl or something just so they can see you eating without it going over your limit, OOH ALSO recently, I have decided to go vegetarian, even if you’re not, you could say that you are to avoid eating whatever they make, if they mostly make things that aren’t vegetarian or vegan, you could also say ur cutting out gluten (gluten is is literally almost everything) which will really help if they mostly make foods that contain gluten you could say that you think you have celiac, which is super super common so it won’t be incredibly unbelievable. If you say that you think you might have it celiac is where you can’t eat gluten because it makes you bloated, It makes your stomach hurt and it also gives you diarrhea. (going vegetarian, and or cutting out gluten is a great way to lose weight quickly)

you could also chew and spit but i will say it does hurt you in some way, because when you put food in your mouth your stomach starts to make more stomach acid (i think lol) and that acid needs something to dissolve so

you could also püřğé right after, but i wouldn’t really recommend that to anyone just because it actually does fuck ur body up, and i started before i knew about all the harmful effects, don’t start💗

i would also say wear more baggy clothes around them so they can’t tell that ur loosing weight, i feel like this is really important because, even though they care sm and they just wanna help, parents can only ruin progress and push you to recovery and it’s definitely ok to want that later in the future or sometime soon!!💗💗 so sorry if these weren’t really good

good luck love

[consumeroflemoans]

Oh yeah, I think Vilidia beach stuff would probably be cute as hell

The general shit like swimwear, feeling the warm sand, using a towel as a big blanket, looking at fish and rocks underwater, literally just sitting there next to the ocean and watching the water and talking I do specifically like to think that Vil would either help Idia learn swimming or at least floating or drag him through the water a bit while he holds on to some kind of float, maybe he gets a swimming board so he can paddle along

And the sunburn, oh dear, the sunburn

Of course also usable is how close Idia has been to the ocean all his life without ever touching it and I'm not sure how far down the Isle of Woe is, but I imagine we're talking deep territory, deep enough to see some weird creatures down there

Underwater ecosystems can get wild, imagine looking out of your window and seeing a handfish walk around outside before the ground swallows it up and swims away, a gulper eel repeatedly bumping into the glass like a pigeon

Eating ice cream at the beach while your boyfriend tells you about the unknown to men that lurk within the waters

Hating raw fish together is simply the backbone of any romantic relationship

I also feel the need to tell you that I just got an ad for bitcoin on your blog and it read: "Bitcoin Hyperdeflation, experience rapid and sustained price decrease with Bitcoin. Join the trend today!" and I think that's very fitting considering capitalist (submissive)

Aughhh oh my gosh them in beachwear. Vil either in swimwear or like a loose beach shirt?? Peak. (Even though I feel like he’d be the kind of guy to wear a wetsuit to the beach for extra skin protection)

Vil’s looking like his perfect model self meanwhile there’s a scrawny, pale ass man beside him that’s burnt to a crisp in seconds despite the layers of sunscreen Vil put on him.

Also I love the thought of Idia opening up about his childhood now that there is someone he can talk to about the Isle of Woe. Everything’s supposed to be classified, but Vil’s memory can’t exactly be wiped. I think he’d find living underwater pretty cool at times and he’d ramble about all the weird creatures he’s seen.

Omg actually. Side tangent. I can see the two of them despising the feeling of sand together. It’s a sensory problem for me personally and I think it’d be the same for Idia at times. Vil just doesn’t like it because it gets literally everywhere and he doesn’t feel very clean after the beach. Swimming is fun, but the space between is less fun.

Also I can see Vil being in love with having fruit smoothies or coconut milk by the beach. I remember going to a really obscure beach once on vacation with mostly only locals on it. There was an absolutely incredible fresh fruit juice stand that I think Vil would have loved.

And as a capitalist (submissive) I personally do not invest in bitcoin and instead only invest in men that will take my money with a 100% guarantee. /j

[geminiartemis]

Rambling about social media (microblogging) apps

I used to love Twitter. I didn't post much there, but I was always online checking out memes, news, people's tweets. Then it got worse and worse. I started using Mastodon last year, and I recently got invited to Bluesky, which I wasn't even that interested in, but I didn't want to refuse and risk offending the person who invited me, haha... Anyway, here's what I think about them:

Bluesky is... okay, I guess. It's kinda cute, like a baby Twitter. It lacks basic features such as hashtags. It's kinda empty and boring. I heard it has moderation issues and it's getting flooded with furry porn, but I haven't run into either. What I see is mostly selfies and some cat pictures.

Now, Mastodon... I fucking love Mastodon, okay?! And I don't understand why most people won't give it a chance. I'm actually kinda addicted to it right now. People actually interact with me there, unlike in literally all other social media apps I'm in. I even found some Helluva Boss fans there. I can ramble about HB and bitch about Twitter there. It's so cool.

And unfortunately, I'm still lurking on Twitter, because the people I follow JUST WON'T LEAVE. Which would be, you know, fine, it's their right, except they do keep complaining that Twitter sucks and they can't stand it anymore. Like there aren't any alternatives... When... Mastodon is right there. Bluesky is invite-only for now, but hey, it's still there and people with invites are everywhere. Even fucking Threads is right there, even though I loathe Meta, and it's unavailable in the EU, and did I mention Mastodon is right there? It's available all over the world and open to the public. No data harvesting. No rage-inducing algorithm. No ads. No billionaire manchild in control of everything. No restrictions on how many posts you can view or how many DMs you can send. It's great.

Okay, back to Bluesky and Meta for a bit. What many people might not know is that these two platforms have the potential to be part of the fediverse along with Mastodon. This means that there's the possibility that someday users on Threads, Bluesky, and Mastodon could all interact with one another as if it were the same thing. Meta has actually stated that they have plans to do this in the future. I don't know if they really will, and this topic has been very controversial across different Mastodon instances (servers), but I guess it'd be cool, if people absolutely refuse to come to Mastodon but join Threads, I could at least continue to follow them without having to join Threads myself.

So, here are a few more details about Threads, which I'm giving you second-hand because I haven't actually joined it. It's very algorithm-oriented. When it launched, it didn't even have a "following" tab, so you couldn't actually see the posts of people you were following. Which... kinda defeats the point of following. But apparently they just introduced such a tab, so that's progress! I don't think hashtags are a thing here either, though. The biggest problem with it, however, is that it requires a lot of your data. It's practically spyware, I've heard. And it's so bad that it's actually banned in the EU, where privacy laws are more strict. This is actually a huge hindrance to Threads, because the EU is a huge, important market. We'll see if they'll do anything about it. If they don't, Threads will probably become yet another Bluesky.

Okay, I'm tired of typing now. I'm going back to Mastodon now. See ya!

[shadows-of-ghost]

The Tide Rises: Chapter 1

Drifter Log #1: Ocean

I'm not ready for this.

I was barely a field agent, but apparently Brutus saw some sort of potential in me. So here I am, now, left to rebuild GHOST… I love all the water, which is the best thing about Doomsday’s failure, but I think I’m the only one who thinks so. Maybe everyone else is just scared of the sharks? Anyway, I just kinda wish it didn’t happen so fast. Being leader can be scarier than the first time I rode a ten foot wave. The difference though is that that wave was absolutely rad.

Why does Brutus think I’m capable of this? Maybe I’m just making a big deal out of it, but he could’ve made any of the top agents in charge. TNTina, Skye, Meowscles? Himself? To be fair, he technically is helping out, but that’s really just when I’ve apparently done something wrong.

Maybe it's just because I like... scratch that, love the water. This situation, though? Kinda wack.

Oh well. I guess I better go. Got to get to work or whatever. First, I’m gonna ride another shark—seriously, have you seen those things? Riding those things is like being in paradise, hell, even better than surfing.

Signing off,

Ocean

AO3 Link

For as long as she could remember, Ocean’s name had always been her destiny.

The waters called to her since her earliest days alive, with her fondest memories being of all the times she found herself skiing and surfing across rowdy waves or speeding down rapid rivers in motorboats. Joining GHOST and being transported to the island was a rewarding experience thus far; she could rarely be found anywhere else but the shores of Craggy Cliffs or Sweaty Sands, contrary to the mostly landlocked terrains of her home world. Her name was indeed her purpose in life, so who else would be more qualified to lead a revolution on the water than her?

Brutus had tracked her down by the earpiece she never actually wore in her ear. The Shark—GHOST’s last surviving base—had been destroyed, she learned. Together, they drew up a plan, and The Fortilla rose in the corner of the island where The Rig once stood. She was not quite an engineer like the one she learned betrayed them, but she sure did have a vision. As the weeks went by and its finished structure swayed among the waves, Brutus tasked her with one thing: to take charge of GHOST and serve as their leader.

To her, the predicament at hand was a paradise. Being a ruler in a high-risk environment, the middle of a flood nonetheless, gave her more room to swim and greater thrills and threats to her once boring life. New opportunities, new species… in particular, sharks.

One lurked near The Fortilla. She ecstatically threw on her life jacket, slipped on her skis, and grabbed a fishing rod from one of the dozens of barrels sitting around the docks. Meowscles would help her cast it near the target, and the results were killer, as she liked to say. Together, they raced circles through the command buildings and around the apartments. If it were not for the limits of their circumstances, she would have taken it across the island.

Then, the shark leapt into the air and destroyed a chunk of the shopping mall.

Only then did Ocean realize being a leader did not mean doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. As she watched henchmen try to salvage building parts and muttered under her breath while Brutus reprimanded her, she knew the time was ticking for her to figure out what more to the job there was than being carefree.

A squad cornered and put down the shark afterward, but it did not die without leaving something in remembrance: a burst assault rifle, her favorite. A few upgrades later, she always patrolled her routes with it. In the end, however, she now walked the docks with a little less bounce in her step. With SHADOW’s newfound reign over the island, GHOST had to lay low. They remained confined to their little corner of the island, now tasting what their enemies must have felt before everything flipped. Ocean knew that as the leader, she was the highest target of all her enemies if she stepped even one foot out of bounds. Confinement was anything but fun, and suddenly, she hated the flood alongside her peers. Swimming in the same waters over and over became tiresome, as were the new responsibilities thrown at her that she could barely keep track of.

With an exasperated sigh, Ocean kicked an empty bottle into the water and watched it float for a moment. Upon hearing the chunk of plastic fly into the sea, Turk turned around to look at her. As always, he sat on the docks participating in his one true hobby: fishing. Noticing her frustration, however, he reeled in his fishing line and set the rod down. “Everything alright, ma’am?”

Ma’am. Everyone addressed her with the formality, as it had been normalized when Midas was in charge. It made her cringe every time, but she knew it was something she had to get used to. She sighed and shook her head. “I want to do something. No more sharks are coming around and we have to kill ‘em the second they do anyway, sitting around here is wack and there’s nothing to do.”

Turk snorted. “You’re sure different from Midas.” His smile sank a little at the mention of their former boss, but he masked his disappointment quickly. “He was impatient, sure, but not restless like this.”

A harpoon gun laid at his side. He offered it to her. “Catch a few fish, maybe? It’s a good mind-clearer.”

Ocean stared at its pointed tip and hastily shook her head. Cameo warned her about this some weeks ago: you could rarely go a few sentences with him without something coming up about fish or fishing. “No, thanks. Fishing… isn’t my calling.”

He set the harpoon gun by her feet anyway and smirked. “Cameo got to you already, huh? You can say it’s boring. I’ve had to hear that from her since she joined, she’s very vocal about it.”

“Fine, it is boring.” Yet she silently eyed it, slowly reaching for it and picking it up. It was more so that the hobby itself required patience, which was something she did not have. At this point, however, she was desperate for new ideas. “So… you just shoot it in and hope you catch something?”

“Well, more or less. It takes a little more skill than that, it’s all about timing and patience.” Which she knew. “I do it for fun, but knowing how to fish is a key thing for survival if you end up on your own. Harpoon guns are good for starting out, since they’re easier to use. Functioning like a gun and all.”

He pointed to a circular spot a few feet away from the dock, where a different fish periodically leapt into the air. “Lucky for us, the waters here are always clear enough to see into. Try there, you’ll probably have a better chance of catching something. Try anywhere else, you might just pull up a rusty can.”

Ocean peered into the little bubble of water. A variety of fish swam about in circles, creating ripples at the surface. She aimed carefully at a moving slurpfish, following its movements with the spear. Truthfully, she had used a harpoon gun once when building The Fortilla. Then, it was against a much bigger target: a SHADOW henchman who bothered her while salvaging for building parts. But to get this fish, she had to be precise.

She pulled the trigger and watched with a smile of anticipation as the spear clipped the tail of her target. As soon as it reeled itself in, the fish flew off the point and into the air behind her. Turk reached out to catch it, but it fell short and landed at his side. Ocean burst out laughing and handed him the harpoon gun. “Yeah, I’m not cut out for that. We’ll leave the fishing all up to you.”

She nudged the fish back into the water with her foot and looked into the distance, shielding her eyes with her hand. The hotel at Sweaty Sands stood tall as always. With the high floodwaters, a lot of space lingered between it and The Shark… a perfect place for the animal itself to be swimming about. Her eyes drifted to a nearby motorboat. “I bet plenty of sharks like to hang out by Sweaty Sands and… you know, The Shark. What’s left, I mean.” Turk visibly flinched. “There’s a lotta water out there, so it’s perfect.”

Turk raised an eyebrow and cast out his line. “I’m not sure I follow… or that I want to follow.”

With a mischievous smile, Ocean rested her gloved hand atop the fishing rod. “Hey, I might be a high target for SHADOW, but if I left and someone went with me, it wouldn’t be so bad, right? Like a chaperone.”

“It would still be fairly risky, and if you’re thinking about taking me, then you’re out of luck,” he said, shaking his head.

“Please? I’m not the only one who wants to get out of here for at least five minutes! Look, I just want to find another shark, take it for a quick ride, and we’ll be right back. No one will know.”

“I don’t know, ma’am. I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She scowled at the formality, however she could see the glint of temptation in his eyes. A little more persuasion would get him on board, so she looked him straight in the eyes with fierceness in her own. “Turk, SHADOW isn’t going away for a while. Do you really want to be stuck fishing here for the rest of your life when we’re literally on an island?”

Turk tore his eyes away from her convincing gaze, but he was already in. “Alright,” he sighed. “This is a one time thing, got it?”

Ocean beamed and immediately ran off. “Totally, be right back!”

Her legs went on autopilot as she raced around The Fortilla, gathering all of what she considered to be useful gear: her pink life jacket, water skis, and Brutus’s former GHOST helmet, which she had won from him in a friendly spar. Dissatisfied with its plain, shining white form, she had painted around it, adorning it with flowery pink and yellow designs.

With her burst assault rifle firmly strapped to her holster, she made one final stop to the mall, taking a quick browse for some healing supplies in case things were to go wrong. A case of chug splash called her name, then a second one, just in case.

“Hey.” TNTina came up from behind her. Her almost-scowling expression told her everything: she was bored out of her mind. She grabbed a snack off a nearby shelf and eyed the chug splashes. “Found something to do?”

Ocean glanced between her and the cases in her hands. “Yeah. Going out to look for some sharks.”

“Out of base?” Tina’s eyes immediately lit up. She glanced around the aisle, leaned in and whispered, though her form of whispering was almost nonexistent, “does Brutus know?”

“Nope!” Ocean took a step back, then sped away. When she returned to the boat, Turk was ready. She carefully set down the cases of chug splash. “All set!”

The boat engine revved into life; they began to pick up speed as they reached the edge of the floating fortress. Ocean stood up and threw off her helmet, holding it up in the air as the wind blew through her face and her hair. “Oh hell yeah,” she screamed to the air, feeling the sea’s mist splash against her face. She could not see his, but she could tell by the way he swayed in his seat that Turk was thrilled to be out and about, too.

Alas, the journey itself was not a very long one. The adrenaline was short-lived and they quickly found themselves at the dock where the hot pink walls of the ice cream parlor were submerged underwater. Regardless, Ocean hopped off the boat before it could stop with as much excitement as she possessed through their short expedition. More of The Shark had resurfaced since the last time she swung by, but still, the only part above water remained the tip of the sea animal-shaped rock.

As Turk unpacked his supplies, his solemn gaze fixated on the destroyed base. Whatever excitement he held before wore off completely. “Been a minute since I’ve been over here,” he muttered. “I didn’t think I’d be able to look at it.”

“Yeah, sucks that you guys got forced out,” Ocean said, surveying the water. “I mean, you guys would’ve gotten drowned out anyway, right?”

He stared mournfully at the distant rocks. “You weren’t there,” he finally said, voice raspy.

Ocean shook her head. Before the flood, she never paid attention to what went on around GHOST unless her services were needed. She was not around for Storm The Agency, nor was she around for The Device. It was only when Brutus found her that he caught her up on the basics of everything that had transpired…

Of course. The Shark’s devastating final blow before the flood took over… but she did not have to live with its trauma. How could she have forgotten?

Turk sighed. “A lot of people got hurt, died, almost died… the henchmen did what they could to get priority agents out before the worst of it happened. They didn’t, uh… get Liv, though.”

She was only familiar with the current active duty higher ranks. “Liv?”

“Outcast.” He sighed again and cast his line into the water. “She’s, uh… was my sister. She and Cameo were at the bottom where the initial explosions happened. She didn’t make it out. Fishing was our favorite thing to do together. That’s part of why this is all you see me do.”

Ocean frowned. She should have known. “Sorry… hey, we can go somewhere else if-”

“I’ll be alright,” he said with a light, strained smile. She could tell it was mostly forced. “Go ahead, do whatever you needed to do.”

She shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned the water again. At first glance, there were no sharks in sight. Rather, suspicious movements foamed in the center between them and The Shark’s remains. There was some sort of… disruption in its flow, which she had a strange urge to investigate. “Hang on,’ she said, hopping in.

Turk’s gaze followed as she swam off; it did not take a genius to realize what was far from normal. “Ma’am,” he called, “I don’t think that’s a good idea!”

Ocean paid no attention to his concern. It was not until the currents picked up and sent her swaying that she realized it was too late: a giant whirlpool began to pull her into its eye.

She cursed under her breath and tried not to flail—panicking would only make her predicament worse. Though she had been in a situation like this once before the island, it was not a vortex to this extent. She calmly pushed herself away parallel to the currents as she drew closer and closer to the middle, but it was almost to no avail when her head finally submerged underwater… until it was not.

She was flying. The blue grew farther and farther away beneath her flailing feet. The adrenaline pumped through her veins as she came to a stop high in the air. This was the exhilaration she had been looking for! She had only a second to survey the world around her before gravity came back into play and pulled her downwards. Ocean pulled out her glider just in time for her to float and land safely on the dock next to the boat.

Turk looked at her in astonishment as she stood on her feet with ease, as if her life had not been on the line moments ago. A wide grin spread across her face. “Now that was rad.”

The string of his rod bobbed, shaking him back to life as he wrestled and reeled it in. “You really are something, boss,” he chuckled.

But that was not all she was here to do. In fact, just before her way down, she had spotted a shark. Sure enough, she could see its fin sticking out of the water a distance away, closer than it was before. Ocean immediately rushed to the boat and pulled out her water skis, then grabbed an extra fishing rod from a nearby barrel. “Can you help me out?” She handed Turk the rod; he raised an eyebrow. “Last time I tried to use one myself it went behind and caught Meowscles on the tail.”

He chuckled again and led her through the motions on how to properly use it. Ocean whistled out once the line had been cast, hoping to catch the attention of Noah, the shark she had already named. Within seconds, it swam over and took the bait. She laughed heartily as it yanked her into the water, finally giving her a chance to ski the waves again. She led Noah in a few circles around the whirlpool to get a feel for the ride, but that would not be all the fun schemed up from her gliding. The grin on her face grew even wider as she led the shark to the center of the whirlpool. They were launched into the air. The breeze picked up from the high altitude. She could barely hang on to the handle of her rod, and Ocean felt the most alive she had ever felt, both from before and during her time on the island. She struck a pose mid-air, cheering along the way as they dove back into the water.

Ocean swam back to the dock, waving Noah goodbye. As she went to slip off her skis, the ground shook.

As if she knew exactly what to expect, she looked to the sky. Not far away, a rift tore open the sky. A flaming dot fell out of it, soaring towards Pleasant Park like an asteroid. She watched with Turk as the comet-like pod hit the ground with a medium-sized explosion. Neither of them had to say anything. By now, everyone on the island was well-versed with these occurrences.

“Should we see?” Turk asked.

Ocean bit the inside of her cheek. She did not anticipate having to take charge so soon after the round of excitement. “Uh… maybe we should, to see what we’re up against. Then call for backup if we need it.”

Turk nodded and started up the boat. “We oughta watch from that island over there, just to be safe. Keep our distance.”

Ocean slipped her helmet on for an extra layer of protection. Once dodging the whirlpool on the short ride over, Turk pulled out a sniper, using its scope to find the exact crash site of the pod. It was not needed, however; the hums and laughter of the space intruders could be heard and tracked from miles away.

Marauders, they were named, from an unknown world. For weeks, groups of them passed through rifts and crashed in a new location each time, wreaking havoc all over the island. They had no problem living loudly, shooting at whoever was near and damaging structures everywhere as if they owned them. GHOST could only get involved if they landed too close to base, which had only happened once.

Turk surveyed the group. “Looks like two snipers and two assaults again. The big one has a rocket launcher this time.”

“So we have to worry about stink bombs and blast damage,” Ocean said with a nod. She drew her burst assault rifle and thought back to her encounter at the mall. “We should bring over Tina. She’ll know how to take down the big guy easiest.”

Turk ducked down and pulled Ocean with him. “Careful, they’re looking this way. And it’s your call, but we have to act quick if we’re gonna take them on.”

“I… don’t have my earpiece.” She dug through her pouch just in case. There lay a few seaside trinkets inside she had collected over the years, but sure enough, no earpiece. She still had not gotten used to carrying it around.

Turk sighed and pulled a radio from his own tactical bag. “Turk to command,” he said quietly, handing the radio to her. “Requesting backup, west of Pleasant Park. I’m here with Ocean.”

“Hey,” she greeted. “Got a group of marauders over here. They have a rocket launcher, so if she’s available… send in TNTina.”

[luvwich]

my 2024 in fic

a long one about my year of writing my dirty 'n sad stories (complete with pull quotes for god's sake). if you start scrolling real fast now, you might survive! let's get on with it then—

january—march • crescent & redwood 88k words (70k written this year)

He wasn't much of a dreamer — the streets wrung all the dreams out of Mike Kowalski before he had thirteen candles on his cake. But in that moment, the dream came to him easier than breathing.

the one longfic i finished this year. the shit consumed me, man! C&R was my most ambitious in terms of plot, i approached it with more structure and planning than ever, and for some FUCKING reason i opted to commit to a weekly(ish) posting schedule.

i figure the entire potential "audience" for this could dance on the head of a pin — it's a sequel, it stars a really random / rare side character, it is crawling with OCs and homebrew — but it was some of the most fun i've had writing & i love this god damn fic. (also some amazing people read it anyway!)

march • risk management 2000 words

Turns out the nightclub gig has some parallels to his life as an agent. In the course of both jobs, you observe and intervene when necessary. You manage risk.

moody tableau of a solomon reed / V situation. started out as a plan for something longer, but i opted to turn it into this really compact story — a style i leaned into a lot this year. a nice change from the sprawl of the longfic, and so satisfying to write! feels like whittling away at this intricate thing, every sentence forced to earn its keep. almost everything else i wrote this year was in this shorter format.

april • internship '74 1587 words

You work fifty percent harder. No, sixty. There's so much to learn, just as the handbook said.

just a crunchy bite of that arasaka grind, with a little glimpse of star-crossed romance at the end of the corpo tunnel.

may • be with me when i breathe & soul in a box & galvanized

But I can become angry again. In the realm of cognition, all that I was once capable of, I remain capable of.

the word of the year is FICLET. i wrote these 500-1000 word bits for song events in the writers of night city discord. those events were such a lifesaver for my burnt-out ass!!

july • sellsword 3100 words

Compliments, in his experience, were not given without motive. Compliments of the cock even less so. 

my first non-cyberpunk and first M/M! i find baldur's gate quite intimidating to write; the fantasy setting comes waaaay less naturally to me than the whole gritty urban cyberpunk thing. ole boy rugan had me in a chokehold, though, and out of all the little snippets i wrote about him, the one where he furtively jerks off with gale ended up taking flight. that's life!

august—september • black steel 9831 words

Maybe V's not the lamb, but the altar. What'll he burn this time? What would old Cain do with a second chance?

johnny silverhand had mostly played a "sassy roommate" role in my stories til i got a wee bit more lecherous with him in crescent. when silverv week rolled around i started tinkering with some brief scenes between him and vania. some of my favorite writing i did this year is in woven through these vignettes

december • the perfect mark 6000 words

At last, under a pretense, a promise, she gets him alone. It doesn't take much. Mortal men scamper after coin and cunt like blind rats running through walls.

written for a gift exchange for the Zhentil Keep discord, a wonderful community of sickos (pos.) i was delighted to lurk around in this year. i've never done a Durge run, and as mentioned i don't feel terribly confident writing in the bg3 setting, but once i got a handle on the story i had a hell of a lot of fun with it! super pleased to close out the year (probably!) with something a little different. also, spitting <3

overall, i posted just shy of 100k words — just about a third of what i did in 2023(!). shit got real and stayed real at my day job, the cyberpunk fandom slowed down, and i had burned through a lot of that "just started writing" momentum that had me rollin down an icy hill last year. and just, C&R wrecked my ass; i wasn't thinking or walking straight after finishing it. thanks mike!

but a lovely thing about '24 was leaning into community a little more, mostly in the form of two wonderful lil discord servers full of other lunatics. so much of what i ended up writing came out of events, prompts, and general inspiration found on the Writers of Night City and Zhentil Keep servers!

as a direct result, i also started having some of my work beta-read, as well as doing a bit of beta reading for others. previously, i had no idea how to go about getting these mythical "beta readers" — like, how do you even form that relationship begin with, nevermind the logistics and protocol! it turns out you can just ask??

anyway i'm so glad i started doing this; getting real, critical feedback is delicious, it's made my writing better (both beta-ing and being beta'd have!) (oh my god is beta the most hellish verb in existence though?), and it makes the process a whole lot less lonely to boot.

some of the work i was entrusted to beta-read or collaborate on (all excellent despite my meddling!):

No. 1 Smalltown Boy by @ghostoffuturespast

chapters 4-6 of thread-safe by @merge-conflict

breach by @streetkid-named-desire — a whole collab! they trusted me to write a bunch of the smutty bits >:)

in 2025 i'd love if i sank my teeth into a longer project again, but i'm resolved not to fret about it too much. got a lot of junk rattlin' around in drafts, a number of things in the outlining/planning stage that may or may not bear fruit, and a sick little brain that won't quit

thanks for hanging! thanks for not blocking me yet on tumblr dot com, and all my gratitude and blessings if you read more than a hundred words of those 100k i chucked out into the world this year

[radellama]

1&2 resi

1. What originally drew me to it

I feel like I probably had heard of resi in gaming circles before, but never paid attention because there was no way I'd be allowed to play it in the house while I was a teen so I didn't bother. BUT I remember when re7 was coming out, and it was the first time I'd seen a AAA horror game made with the intention for VR. It was just very interesting to me, and a lot of the gaming channels I watched played the first couple of sections, but never enough to give the full story LMAO. After that tho, I had a background interest in resi and was waiting until I moved out to start playing. Then I remember when re2make was coming out, and it looked SO COOL. I definitely wanted to play that one, a bit more than 7 if I'm being honest lol, but the only current gen console I had was a switch and I don't think the resi ports were out on it at that time (and fuck playing it on the switch!) So I saved up for a ps4 during the pandemic, managed to get the last one in stock and slowly bought all the resi games and played during my uni break. IT WAS SOOOO MUCH FUN and even though 7 isn't necessarily my favourite (and I'm not buying vr lol) it was super fun and felt satisfying when I got up to it when playing (mostly) in order.

Once I started playing, the draw was, and continues to be, that it has certain mood and aura that comes from it being a survival horror, and that I really enjoy the simple and cheesey plots (of the early games in particular!) It's a great time and I'm looking forward to replaying everything soon

2. What I like most and least about it

What I like most is the early numbered titles, the setting of raccoon city having the ever looming umbrella hanging over them and trying to figure out what the hell lurks underneath the surface is super compelling and I enjoy how it both takes itself seriously and is pretty goofy. The characters are all pretty great across the series and because it's been such a long franchise, even if I don't love every entry, it's SUPER fascinating to see how much the series has changed and evolved, and how that ties into certain trends and interesting historical points for gaming as a whole.

What I like least is how sloppy the story gets as it goes on and how they do not handle their main protags very well, ESPECIALLY THE LADIES. Once umbrella fell, the over arcing story has been such a mess cause it lacks the focus that 'umbrella in raccoon city' gave the story. And you can see that they kinda know this and the absence of umbrella is clearly felt cause they keep making up stuff to either stand in as a new umbrella type antagonistic force, or make up stuff to link back to umbrella in incredibly convoluted ways. I think the downfall plot wise actually started with re4, but 4 was such a campy and fun game that it didn't matter to most people so it was kind of an exception (myself in included) but because it couldn't be replicated in whatever went down in 5&6, THAT'S when people generally started to notice. These games can be so messy as they go on and I personally feel that if the game feels like it's punishing you for paying attention or deliberately crafting gotcha moments to give a plot twist that's only a shock in that moment, not anything that's actually a satisfying twist, that it's dumb and bad!! There's still things to like in the entries I don't really like that much, but it's clear to me that the Devs felt lost without a clear looming threat like umbrella, and that they don't know what to do with their main characters and either push them aside or just absolutely butcher them on screen. Leon is one of the only exceptions but even then....lol. and let's not talk about the screen adaptations LMAO

Send a fandom and some question from here

[wordsandrobots]

IBO reference notes on . . . character parallels and counterpoints

Spoilers for everything, warning for references to child abuse and other unpleasantness

Iron-Blooded Orphans is obviously chock full of parallels, similar situations repeating at different times and levels of society, under different circumstances, with different degrees of desperation. Some of this is prefigurative, in the way that tragedies are structured so you can see the disaster coming. Some of it is merely reinforcing the omnipresence of the series' themes.

It is also full of things that counterpoint those parallels, despite appearing superficially similar, throwing the themes into sharper relief by the contrast.

I wanted to get my thoughts in order about a couple sets of character parallels that form the core of the story.

Spears, axes and swords: Mikazuki, Ein and Julieta

Mikazuki Augus, as we know, is utterly devoted to Orga Itsuka, hanging on his every word and doing anything he says without hesitation. Orga uses him as a weapon, in pursuit of a dream of happiness, never stopping or backing down because he's got Mika at his side.

Except, this is almost precisely backwards. Mika is devoted to Orga and the dream Orga promised him, but in actuality, Orga hasn't got a clue what that dream actually looks like and is mostly trying to make Mika's dreams come true. Mika heads steadily towards what he wants do – be a farmer – while Orga only ever runs from what he has in the moment. And though Mika outsources his morality and decisions with no complaints, Orga is driven half-crazy by trying to live up to the impossible pedestal Mika has put him on. He's terrified by how far Mika will go, knowing Mika literally won't let him stop, and in this lies the root of everything that goes wrong for Tekkadan.

It is this dynamic that we see reflected in Ein Dalton and Gaelio Bauduin's arc throughout season one. Ein forms an explicit parallel to Mika: a low-born (half-)Martian, reliant on the orders of authority figures, ultimately surrendering to machine augmentation in order to win. They even get near-identical dialogue, variants on “What shall we do now, Orga/Specialist Major?” Crucially, like Mika, Ein is the one in the dynamic with the definite dream in need of fulfilling. While Gaelio gets his pride hurt by being trounced every time he tries to fight Tekkadan, pursuing them is just his job. It's Ein who is obsessed with revenge on Mika for killing Lieutenant Crank and the moral pretext of that obsession slowly drags Gaelio into its orbit.

Interestingly, Gaelio only ever displays admiration for Ein, with none of the fear lurking behind Orga's similar praise for Mika's determination and strength. For Gaelio, Ein is an exemplar of dedication the likes of which he has never seen before in an organisation populated by schemers and toadies. From his lofty position in society, he waxes poetic about Ein's positive qualities and has his world-view shifted by coming to understand what it is like to be an outsider in Gjallarhorn. Ein really does make him a better person.

But that admiration also blinds Gaelio to how over-zealous and misguided Ein is. He cannot see the things he should be wary of in his new friend. I think, as a character, he is capable of doing so – it tracks with what is established about him that he'd one day have a moment of realisation to the effect of 'I've fallen in love with a nutcase'. This being a tragedy, however, that moment is denied to him until it is far too late.

Ein dies raving to an indifference audience. For all their similarities, Mika cannot comprehend what Ein is talking about and so has no chance to end things peacefully, if de-escalation is even something he were capable of (it absolutely is not; have you seen this kid?). Ironic, given where Mika himself ends up – another parallel, though I imagine most people reading this will have more sympathy for our protagonist than his season one nemesis. And certainly Ein is the villain here. He embraces Gjallarhorn as a way to accrue the power denied him as a colonial citizen, turning on his fellow Martians and showing not one shred of compassion for their equally (if not more) dire situation. This is despicable. But I can't help feeling sorry for him anyway, or for Gaelio in lacking Orga's clarity on precisely what kind of person has latched to his side.

With Ein off the table and rebuilt into another piece of furniture for season two, his spot on the antagonists' roster is taken in an approximate sense by Julieta Juris. For several reasons, she initially appears to be another straight parallel to Mika.

First, she is more or less explicitly a child soldier. Ein can be hand-waved as being at least a sensible age for joining the army; Julieta is clearly either very young or very immature to be holding the position she does. Second, she's a supremely gifted pilot. Ein is merely dogged until he gets wired into a mobile suit; Julieta is actually capable of giving Mika a run for his money in her own right. Third, like Mika, she is written as being somewhat off in her social interactions. She relates to people atypically compared to those around her, showing both inappropriate candidness and misinterpreting things people say. Plus there's the whole 'how does this butterfly taste' moment.

(When I say this, I mean it's used in the story to convey that she's weird. Obviously there's an ickiness in this usage, one neither unique to this show nor something I feel qualified to discuss in depth there. But it's worth noting 'being off' is part of Ein's characterisation too, just hidden better until he gets incarnated as a giant red-eyed robot and his obsessiveness goes into overdrive.)

The key difference separating Julieta from Mikazuki lies in her relationship to Rustal Elion. Like Mika, Julieta devotes herself to someone else's cause, killing and suffering for it. But unlike Mika, for Julieta, it really is a case of having no dream of her own. As Amida highlights when they fight, there is an emptiness to Julieta's devotion to Elion. When Mika gives everything he has to Orga, it's out of a sincere belief Orga really can take him to the place where everyone is happy. I don't think anything Mika does makes sense if that's not what he honestly thinks. But for Julieta, following Elion is simply payback for being lifted out of a life of impoverishment. She knows – by the end of the series, if not before – that he isn't the kind of honourable adult she once imagined him to be. Yet she remains at his side, still assuming he knows best.

Compare this to the breakdown in Mika's demeanour when he thinks Orga might go back on his word. I could be wrong, but I think that's the only time in the entire series when Mika raises his voice. It's certainly the most outwardly emotional he gets. He near-on attacks Orga over the prospect of giving up. Of course he does. The dream Orga gave him, that he shaped for himself into a vision of being a farmer, peacefully raising crops, is something he fiercely wants to happen, for him and everyone else. Whenever he asks Orga what to do next, it's always with that goal in mind.

Julieta, meanwhile, merely waits for the next order. For all her talk of honing herself into the sharpest sword Elion has, she expresses very little interest in what she will be used for. Her devotion is the entire focus of her life and it prevents her from really growing as a person, no matter that she is more capable of interrogating and questioning the world around her than most of Tekkaan.

In their final confrontation, she can't understand why Mika keeps on fighting when it's hopeless, despite having shown a similar disregard for her own life in past battles. And I think that speaks to a sense in which she really can't conceptualise life without Elion's instruction. Mika chooses to carry Orga's vision forward after losing him because in all the most important respects, it was already his. I'm not sure Julieta could do likewise.

In summary, then, Ein provides a parallel to how Mika actually exists in his relationship to Orga, while Julieta provides one to how it appears. Julieta is utterly subservient to someone else's ambitions, while both Mika and Ein are by far the more influential halves of their respective relationships.

Hollow kings: Orga, McGillis and Elion

As I said above, Orga, bless him, hasn't got a clue what he's doing. He desperately wants something better for himself and his friends, but can't ever quite articulate what 'better' should be. We see him latch on to a series of different possibilities: the First Group, a family, a Teiwaz subsidiary, the people backing Kudelia's cause, kings of Mars. Each one of these comes from someone else and each one is a wavering mirage, always just past the next battle.

There's no insincerity in what Orga does, mind you. He is easily one of the most open hearted characters in the series, having no gear between 'indifferent you exist' and 'I would bend heaven to get you the stars on a plate.' Orga wants more than anything to give Tekkadan decent lives, where they'll never have to go back to the nothing they had before. Sadly, he's also the ultimate short-term planner, constantly revising where he's headed and letting others dazzle him into different conceptions of who he and Tekkadan should be. With the loss of one voice of reason after another, it's inevitable that things go off the rails.

One of those people telling him what he should be is the guy who, by rights, ought to be the main villain of IBO: McGillis Fareed. At first, McGillis is set up as a traditional Gundam enemy, manipulating both sides of the conflict for his own gain while wearing some funky headgear. He masterminds the deaths of several close friends, the obliteration of his adoptive father's plans and installs himself as one of the leaders of Gjallarhorn. You would be forgiven for thinking him Orga's counterpoint: the man with a solid goal who lies to everyone around him, manipulating without any genuine feeling at all.

Except, when we finally get his backstory, we discover that it's his smug, manipulative persona that is the act, carefully built over a life of poverty and sexual abuse. McGillis is, beneath the smarm and chess-mastery, exactly the same as Orga. A kid from the streets, running away from nothing, taking every chance he can get to become stronger and safer. As a result, everything he says to Tekkadan is absolutely, one hundred percent true.

I'm going to say that again for those at the back because this is absolutely crucial to everything to do with McGillis: he means everything he says about how inspiring and remarkable Tekkadan are. From the very first time he sees Barbatos in action, McGillis is enamoured with the idea this bunch of Martian kids can change the world, because that would mean that he can do the same thing. He is flat out in love with how Mikazuki fights and I honestly think he would have done everything he could to make Orga king of Mars if they'd won.

Which is plainly absurd. Thinking one group of mercenaries, no matter how talented, would tip the balance of power is as nuts as thinking the whole of Gjallarhorn would follow him for the sake of an old myth. It's a child's logic.

And, well . . . of course it is. See, Orga had Mika to help him through the misery of his early life. Whatever the horrible, terrible, not good outcomes of their co-dependency, Orga and Mika do genuinely care for one another. They drive each other forward in large part because of how much the other matters to them. But McGillis never had anyone like that. He was always alone, forced to fight only for his own survival.

Until, one day, he read a book.

If Orga has Mika than, bizarre as it sounds, McGillis has Agnika Kaieru, founder of Gjallarhorn and presumed Ars Goetia enthusiast. More precisely, he has whatever heavily editorialised version found its way into the official history. Sneaking out of his abuser's bed in the middle of the night, he comes across this text and it changes everything. Suddenly he realises that someone like him, with no one to rely on, can still reshape the world if he gains enough power. In that book, he finds his inspiration and a dream to chase.

Is that dream any more well-formed than Orga's? Certainly McGillis is capable of long-term planning. He wanted Bael since he was twelve and he gets it, finally becoming one with his hero. But what were the next steps? What did restoring Gjallarhorn to its original glory look like? He's very vague on the details, never committing to an actual description of what will change past him being king of the world. I suspect the truth is, he no more knows than Orga knows what 'that place' where he and Mika can belong will be like. These are two characters escaping horrible presents by aiming for the idea of somewhere else, be it an imagined future or an imagined past.

For the true counterpoint to these would-be kings, we have to turn to the man who actually does end up as king: Rustal Elion. Now, Elion spends much of his screen-time calling McGillis 'power mad' or some variation thereof, which is ironic given everything Elion does is in the name of preserving a status quo in which he is one of the most powerful people in the world. I say ironic, what I really mean is: fucking aristocrats, man. I've explored how I think Elion sees the world in fan-fic, but to summarise, he's your typical colonial officer, dressing brutality up in terms of the way things ought to be while showing nothing but contempt for anyone who dares disrupt an unjust order. He doesn't aim for dreams; he aims for exactly what he already has, with all the unequalled force at his command.

Orga and McGillis are actors, both less than they appear, constantly favouring how they think they should present themselves over who they actually are. In Orga's case, this manifests as trying to be like Naze and the other besuited big shots in Teiwaz, a no-nonsense boss who can make the tough calls. He feels he has to be, for everyone else's sake. He hides away his doubt and his uncertainty, his desperate longing for someone to please tell him what he's supposed to do, even though he has plenty of people around him who would be willing to help. McGillis starts out playing the roll of diligent son and dedicated officer, slowly revealing the ambition beneath. Only, that ambition itself seems more aspiration than truth: it's what he wants to become, the ideal he plucked out of mythology, and it shakes in the light of actually having people who give a damn about him. A poor boy with a storybook, his loneliness is how he defines himself and winning will only matter if he does it alone. He can't face the idea that might not be possible.

But Elion is exactly what he looks like: the consummate pragmatist, supremely comfortable in his position as a leader. Moreover, he's good at being what he is in a way McGillis and Orga can only dream of. Lethally stupid though he and this comment are, Iok has a point when he remarks on the fact Elion plans of what happens after the battle. Of course he does. He can see the big picture, divorced from the pressures that make it hard for others to grasp or do anything about.

I think that's why it doesn't trouble me overmuch that Elion swerves unexpectedly into democratisation in the epilogue. This is a man who will do anything to preserve his authority, including starting wars and breaking ancient weapons bans. A little adjustment to the existing system, introducing homeopathic traces of what McGillis claimed he was after, that leaves Elion on top, doesn't seem especially contradictory given the circumstances at the end of the series.

Because ultimately, Orga and McGillis are chasing ideals that they've shaped their entire sense of self around. They have to play those parts, not because the alternative is unthinkable but because they've lived it and it sucked. Orga has to give his family everything. McGillis has to be the singular great man of history. Anything else is a lethal failure. Elion has the luxury to reshape himself as events required. He can go from bombing children from orbit to signing a slavery abolition treaty because these are equally minimal costs in the service of keeping his big fancy chair.

If Julieta is an empty vessel of devotion in comparison to Mika, then Elion is the perfect inverse of Orga for her to attach herself to.

Concluding note: It's all in the presentation

Like my previous character interpretation, I don't really have a point to make here beyond that I find it interesting how this plays out over the series and, well, this is how I read what's shown on screen. All acts of reading or viewing are in part hallucinations, filling in what is not said outright, and I don't know for sure to what extent anything I have constructed here was intended.

That said, there are clear deliberate motifs that recur throughout the comparisons I'm drawing. The most blatantly obvious is Mika and Orga, Ein and Gaelio, and Julieta and Elion all consist of a short person in a (seemingly) subordinate role to a taller one. Then we have things like the way Elion and Orga both favour a coat worn over their shoulders when directing battles, and the way McGillis and Orga use their hair to obscure their faces at certain points. There are constant similarities in how one side of each relationship addresses the other, with the overarching theme of what it means to 'give everything you've got', and echoes of Orga's concern for Mika's deterioration in how Elion treats Julieta or Gaelio's fear for Ein after his injuries. And I think it telling that Orga and McGillis both meet ignoble, anticlimactic fates, the one succeeding with his aim as best he can, the other having it stripped away from him, piece by piece.

A parallel in a story is often more to show the tyranny of small differences than anything else. Switch any of these characters around and they might have done the same as the person they swapped with. Even those I raise as counterpoints are perhaps only so because of how they lived. It's a neat trick, evoking the tragedy that comes from missed understanding. And I personally think IBO pulls it off very, very well.

Other reference posts include:

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 1)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 2)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (corrigendum) [mainly covering my inability to recognise mythical wolves]

IBO reference notes on … three key Yamagi scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Shino scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Eugene scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Ride scenes

IBO reference notes on … the tone of the setting

IBO reference notes on … a perfect villain

IBO reference notes on … Iron-Blooded Orphans: Gekko

IBO reference notes on … an act of unspeakable cruelty

IBO reference notes on … original(ish) characters [this one is mainly fanfic]

IBO reference notes on … Kudelia’s decisions

[thot-writes]

first up i wanna dedicate this fic to the handful of followers i have that always, without fail, like my shit. shoutout to smol-mimi, echos-chamber, hella--horny, yanashee, and queenondeezmatatas. i see u queens, and i love u. if there’s anyone i missed i’m sorry i love u all sm u mean everything 💕

it’s time for megumi tentacle porn! also i decided to make the jujutsu schools more like college or finishing schools, so first-years are 18-19.

adventures in tentaculum: scene II — Megumi Fushiguro (18+ NSFW);

you are an imaginary cursed spirit. over 1,200 years ago, you were an infamous pirate born from a small fishing village. throughout your adventures, people began to spin legends of you as a vicious demoness of the sea— as beautiful as you were fearsome, and able to take on many aquatic forms.

Within the realms of jujutsu and spirits and sorcery, even you are considered an anomaly. You can hardly consider yourself vengeful — actually, that’s not true, you do tend to target the rich and privileged, but the vast majority of people have little to fear from you.

Japan is one of many countries you’ve ventured to in your time as a cursed spirit— or perhaps it‘s where you came from? Your memory of your human life has grown unfortunately foggy over the centuries. Regardless, it’s where you’ve been for some time, and where you intend to stay for the foreseeable future.

Because you’ve curiously grown rather attached to a human sorcerer.

The school of jujutsu in Tokyo is one you’ve had some contact with — mostly with Gojo. Despite being a sorcerer’s natural enemy, you’ve been known to be quite approachable and even human-like with your disposition. Of course the higher-ups want your exorcism and disapprove of Gojo’s willingness to talk to you, but they’re pathetically weak so they don’t register as a threat.

You met Megumi on one of your “meetings”, for lack of a better term, with the white-haired sorcerer. He was awestruck as he came face-to-face with you. You stand taller than the average human, almost a head taller than Gojo, and exude impossible amounts of cursed energy. Your aura is ethereal as well, your haunting beauty something far beyond a simple person’s and equally as strong as the sense of dread that lurks beneath the surface.

It was obvious to him, as it was to anyone that could see you, that despite resembling a human you most certainly were not one.

You ended up talking to — and befriending — Yuji. You were intrigued by his story of becoming Sukuna’s vessel, and you got along surprisingly well. Nobara was a classic whack-job too, just the way you like them. They would’ve fit in terrifically on your ship had they been alive at the time. Megumi seemed to be the only person that remembered you were a dangerous curse and not just someone to kick it with, but his protests were drowned out.

Eventually, you won him over.

So well in fact that he developed feelings for you. He absolutely refused to acknowledge them at first, banishing the thought to the depths of his mind, but like always your persistence paid off.

Your relationship today is still on the down-low. No one else knows a thing. How long has it been since it became official now? Time is so fuzzy to you. It’s either been three days or three months. Maybe three years?

No, wait. If it was three years he wouldn’t be in school anymore. One of the other two then.

Maybe you should get a watch. You don’t know the first thing about technology, though. Even a clock is too high-tech for you — how do those little things move? Cursed energy? Insane!

Megumi was trying his best to teach you about modern inventions (bless his heart) since it’d be much more convenient if you knew. You often would visit his dorm room and absentmindedly watch him fiddle with doodads and whatsits and doohickeys of all kinds. With each explanation, your questions only grew.

Today was one such day, though he’d all but abandoned his efforts and opted for watching a movie instead. His laptop is positioned at the foot of his bed whilst you two sat at the head, your long limbs entangled in his as you cuddled in a mess of blankets and pillows. His head is rested comfortably on your chest, the absence of breathing or a heartbeat perturbed him at first, but he’s come to like the stillness.

“So how can the people fit in the— what’d you call it? Laptop?” you ask him, chin nestled in his hair as your ancient mind ponders the logic of it all.

You hear him sigh. “They’re not actually in there. It was made beforehand. Imagine a play that was preserved forever, that’s what a movie is.”

“I remember plays.” You nod knowingly. “I killed a nobleman while he was attending one. I would’ve stayed to watch but the actors didn’t appreciate me beheading an audience member.”

“Really...” he muses in a flat tone. “I can’t imagine why.”

You point at the computer screen. “So if this is like a play, does that mean every time you watch it the actors have to perform it for you?”

Megumi closes his eyes in silent contemplation. He can’t believe you haven’t absorbed any of the lessons he’s taught you. Slowly opening them again, he says, “No.”

“How novel! And what is this thing we’re looking at again?”

“Laptop.” His voice has gained a curt edge to it as the last of his patience wears thin. “Maybe we shouldn’t watch this, you haven’t even being paying attention.”

“I wanted to!” you protest. “But then I couldn’t stop thinking about the tiny actors inside, I mean surely there can’t be enough air for them, right?”

He sits up and slams the laptop shut, groaning in annoyance as he puts it away. You frown at his back, you didn’t mean to bother him but clearly your technological illiteracy was too much. You were quite dumb, after all. Peasants oft were in your time, no matter what they became later in life. You put a hand on his shoulder soothingly.

“Sorry, I’m really hopeless at this kinda thing.”

He rests his hand atop of yours and shakes his head. “No, that’s okay. I should’ve picked something we could both enjoy doing.”

You shuffle over to him, your features darkening as not-so-innocent thoughts start coursing through your mind. “I can think of something we’d both enjoy...”

Curiously, he looks to you. The way you’re biting your lip and undressing him with your eyes, he quickly gets the message. His face heats up and he looks away, but you catch his chin and steal a quick kiss from him.

“That’s against the rules...” he murmurs, gaze fixed on your lips as you pull away just a touch. “You can’t just suddenly do that.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to?”

He remains silent and inhales your scent, citrusy and fresh, invigorating like a sea breeze and something he wishes he could smell all the time. He’s tried looking for candles that smell like you so he can burn them when you’re gone, but they never truly capture the magic.

When you make love, one of his favourite things to do in the aftermath is to luxuriate in the enticing aroma that is just you lingering in his sheets.

His mind starts to spin as he inadvertently leans forward so your lips are touching, only just, and sending a delightful shockwave throughout his body. “I do want to...” is what he finally manages to say.

You kiss him again, harder this time, and cradle his face in your hand. He loses himself in the kiss, the sweet taste of your mouth, the sensation of your tongue on his, the softness of your lips, he’s committed it all to memory. It’s hard to pinpoint when exactly this happened, but Megumi has fallen hopelessly, distressingly in love with you.

And the feeling is wholly mutual.

His hands find your hair and he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss as a trail of saliva drips from your mouths. His blood aflame, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, his thirst for you only intensifies while his pants form a tent from where his excitement is growing.

“Mmnh..” He can’t stop himself from moaning your name into your mouth. He really is far too cute for his own good; you haven’t even touched him yet.

You break the kiss but he, in a daze, tries to follow you. You spawn a tentacle from the small of your back and slip it around his neck, gently holding him in place. He gives a bewildered look, his hands falling to his side and his dark doe eyes fixed on you.

You press a finger to your lips and smirk. “Patience, sweet thing. There’s more I want to do to you.”

Your hand massages over the growing bulge in his pants and he whines. He watches your hand and bites his lip, savouring the sweet sensation of your warmth through the fabric of his clothes. You unzip and unbutton his trousers, giving you better access to slide your fingers into his underwear and stroke his throbbing cock. It twitches at the contact, and Megumi holds his breath.

You gently roll your fingers around his tip, precum already starting to peak out, and his voice quivers. You grab a handful of his sweater and stuff it into his mouth. He’s always the one saying he’s not ready to be out about your relationship, yet here he is, not even trying to mask how vocal he is. His blue eyes meet yours and he bites down on the fabric. He leans back on his hands and spreads his legs apart while you work his cock painfully slowly. He wiggles his hips in an attempt to get you to touch him more, and you can’t hold back a smile.

“So needy for me... You’re this frustrated already?” you purr.

He nods his head, suddenly remembering the tentacle wrapped around his throat as it restricts his movement. He remembers you telling him that they were sensitive, so he strokes a hand along the length. The feeling of his soft, large hand on your tendril almost makes you sigh, you always loved how he feels.

And as a second tendril wriggles it’s way into his undergarments, you ruminate on one thing you love feeling even more than his hands.

The tip of your tentacle teases his entrance and he yelps. Due to the malleability of your tentacles, lubricant is scarce a necessity when you decide to use them like this. Your finger tracing one of the pulsating veins of his cock, you squeeze the tentacle inside and shudders rock your body. Megumi, practically eating his sweater at this point, squeezes his eyes shut and moans.

His insides feel hot and tight on your tentacle, gripping it just right and making you breathe out a shaky breath. “Fuck, Megumi, you feel so good. How do you like it?”

You don’t actually need to ask. His whole body is quivering and his voice still manages to leak through his clenched teeth and sweater. “Kkh... s’good. Feels good.”

You duck your head down and push his sweater up further, exposing his cute pink nipples. You take one of them into your mouth and continue easing your tentacle inside him, he clutches his hand around the one on his neck and curls his toes. He arches into your mouth and throws his head back, lips falling open into a sob and letting go of the shirt.

You curl your hand around his cock in a vice-like grip and start to pump, his precum flowing freely and coating both it and your hand in the sticky clear substance. His eyes roll back and his cries grow louder, but you’re too focused to care about covering them.

Megumi’s taut, spongy insides send heat coursing through you, your arousal pooling in your panties as you thrust in and out of him. God, it feels like just doing this could make you cum.

Overcome with an intense want, you use the tentacle on his neck to yank him down harshly on the bed and he looks up at you in surprise, hands holding the tendril that’s practically crushing his windpipe. You’ve brought out your other tentacles and use them to slide his pants off his legs and fling them aside, same with his underwear.

You grab one of his hands and bring it to your pussy, and he swallows thickly. He wants you on his face, but you want to hear him. His fingers slip into your panties and clumsily work at your clit, rubbing it in circular motions and he drools at the feeling of your wetness.

Two of your tentacles hold his legs apart, leaving coiling red marks on his thighs as you fuck him senseless. He inserts his long, slender fingers and curls them in your pussy, pressing up against your g-spot. That combined with the sensation of his tight ass squeezing you so well is enough to bring you to your orgasm. You thrust your tentacle in deeper and gasp, while Megumi sloppily but hastily fingers you as you ride it out.

He brings his soaked fingers to his mouth and licks the cum from them, murmuring a barely audible “delicious” as he does so. Invigorated by the sight and your orgasm, you tighten the grip on his neck and pick up the speed.

Your hands busy themselves playing with his nipples as you fuck him, and he cries your name like it’s a holy mantra. His body jerks and writhes as his own orgasm bubbles in his core.

Digging his nails into the tentacle coiled around his throat, his cheeks splotchy pink and stained with tears, he hiccups and moans. “Aah-haah I-I’m c-c-cumming. It—s c-coming o-out-haa aah!”

Thick strings of cum shoot out from his cock and land on his stomach, chest, and face. He’s definitely going to have to throw out that sweatshirt now, it’s impossible to get cum stains out of black fabric. You keep fucking him as he thrusts his hips into you and his wailing fills the room.

As his motions slow down, so do yours. You slowly release him from your the grip of your tentacles even as droplets of cum continue to weep from his dick. His chest heaves as he takes in uneven breaths, eyes fluttering closed in long, languid blinks.

You brush some of his hair out of his face and smile at him. “How’re you feeling?”

He nods half-heartedly. “Good... I’m feeling sleepy... but good.”

“I’m glad,” you chuckle. “I’ll get you cleaned up then we can nap together, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” he answers simply. You can tell he’s one blink away from passing out. He’s trying his best to stay awake though, poor thing.

You hop off the bed and grab some tissues, wiping him clean then tossing them away. You decide to take his sweater off too, it’s far too messy to sleep in now. Megumi almost falls asleep as you do this, but he desperately wants to spend as much time with you as possible so he continues to fight it with what little strength he has left.

For you, changing clothes is far easier. You’re a cursed spirit after all, you kind of don’t even exist. You simply generate a clean pair of panties and slide back into bed with him, tucking him into the blankets and cradling his head in your lap. He’s lulled into a calm, peaceful sleep with your hands running through his hair and your soothing scent permeating the air.

You gaze at him as he sleeps, trailing your finger along the contour of his jaw. Truthfully, he’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you often tell him so. He always tells you to stop, but you can see he’s hiding a blush. You’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when there comes a knock at the door.

“Oi, Megumi! You alive in there? I heard yelling from down the hall, so me and Nobara came to check on you. Can we come in?” It’s Yuji. Damn it.

Your eyes flicker from the door down to the still-sleeping (and stark naked) Megumi. They don’t even know you were here! If they see you like this they’ll know for sure about you two! What do you do?!

Suddenly, the doorknob jiggles. They’re trying to come in. The door’s locked, but it’d be no match against Yuji’s monstrous strength. You stare hopelessly at the door, silently wishing for some kind of miracle.

“...Shit.”

[ulalumewitch]

I’ve had this Elucien fic rolling around my brain for a while and decided to put it out there. No warnings with this one. Just angst and bits of hope for possible futures (I swear I write things other than angst all the time - haha).

Happy Sunday everyone!

Word count: 2,807

Themes: Angst/Hope

Choices

Lucien couldn’t believe it. He could not believe that another Winter Solstice ended in utter ruins because of his mate. Because of his godsdamned mate and he’d had enough. He would end it, and end it now.

“Elain!” He shouted at her retreating figure.

But she pulled the ruby red cloak tighter around her shoulders and quickened her steps. Fresh snow remained mostly untouched on small front lawns and sidewalks of Velaris as he ran from the front door of the Riverside Estate after Elain. Most families and friends likely hunkered down in their homes enjoying fires and brandies and gifts and laughter with no cause to go out walking as the last hours of Solstice crept by entering the darkest hours of night before the dawn.

The longest night of the year. The longest three years of his life. Three years of being both rejected and not rejected by his mate. And he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you stop,” he growled as they reached the gate, “You owe me one conversation.”

Elain stopped. Her spine snapped straight. She turned and glared at him, her eyes molten with pure hatred.

Lucien had chosen his words carefully. Tempers he could handle, he’d had enough practice over the centuries with a hot headed High Lord. He could handle master manipulators and sweet talkers. He could handle battle worn generals and courtiers of the most delicate constitution. He could handle gossipers and those genuinely interested in friendship.

But what he could not handle was nothing. He could not handle the looks that went right through him. The unanswered questions. The blank stares. The Solstice presents delicately placed to the side and left alone as if they didn’t exist at all.

“I owe you nothing. Leave me alone.”

“I won’t. You are my mate -“

“I don’t want to be your mate!”

“Then reject me and reject he bond!” Lucien yelled, his voice echoing through the silent night.

The stars glittered in the black sky, now completely clear after the fast moving snow clouds from earlier in the evening had dissipated. It brought just enough snow to coat the city white before moving on. As if the Mother heard every prayer from the younglings of Night Court for a white Solstice, and then granted their wish.

Elain’s nostrils flared and for a moment, the briefest moment, her eyes flashed an emotion he couldn’t quite place but had seen before. And it hit him. She’d possessed the same look of bewilderment when she’d still been sopping wet from the Cauldron’s waters, Nesta clawing at her sobbing. The look of knowing but not knowing.

“Reject it,” he rasped, the fight and fire receding slightly, “Reject it so that I can move on. You think I enjoy this? You think that any of this has made me feel good over the last three years?”

“I didn’t choose you. I didn’t choose any of this. I didn’t want any of this,” she cried.

Lucien took a breath. It was rare he lost control like this. He’d spent centuries honing his reactions and temperament to be the Fox and mold his features and behaviors into whatever he’d needed in order to ferret out information, or to keep his own secrets safe. But he couldn’t do that around her, his mate.

“I didn’t choose you either,” Lucien said.

She flinched, and looked away down the street. She crossed her arms and shivered. Her cheeks flushed a pink as if kissed by two rose petals and once again her beauty struck him like a slap across the face.

“I know you were in love with another male -“

“Stop it -“

“I know you hate being Fae. I know what you did to try and turn yourself human again -“

“I said stop it,” Elain growled through clenched teeth, “Stop it. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t take it anymore,” Lucien stated, willing himself to be calm, to stop shouting.

He needed this conversation. They both did.

“You wouldn’t know this because you refuse to ever speak to me but I was in love once too,” Lucien said and took a step closer to her, “I was in love with a female and planned to marry her. And my - And the High Lord of Autumn had her killed in front of me and I couldn’t save her.”

Elain’s lips parted in a silent gasp. Her brow furrowed. For a moment he thought she might ask a question, but instead she closed her lips and looked down at he ground.

“I didn’t choose to live without her. I didn’t choose to run away to another Court and make a home there. I didn’t choose a life of intelligence work, books, sparring, warring, and everything in between. But we don’t always get a choice, Elain. What we can choose is what we do with the things that happen to us.”

Lucien paused but she remained silent. Because of course she would stay silent. Fine. Maybe it would be easier this way.

“I chose to deepen my friendship with Tamlin and to truly be a part of his Court and I made the best of it. I chose to continue my education of Courts and history and everything in between so that I could help keep the peace as much as possible. I chose to become trained as a warrior so that I could be as strong and prepared as possible for any situation. I chose those things to make the best of my life. I chose not to wallow in the what-could-have-beens for centuries because no one can survive that way.”

Lucien took another step towards her so that they were only a few inches apart. He could see Elain’s breathing had increased slightly. Her arms tightened across her chest. But she did not move away.

“I did not choose to be your mate, no one gets that choice,” Lucien whispered, “But we can choose, together, whether we want to reject this mating bond to try to lessen its effects as much as possible. It will never go away completely, but if we officially reject it then we can at least bury it and move on separately and away from each other.”

“Is that what you want?” Elain whispered, and she glanced up at him, her eyes somehow still sparkling as if the sun reflected in them.

Lucien’s heart ached. It was the first question she’d asked him since asking if he could hear her beat those years ago. And she’d been so broken then, he could barely breathe around the memory of seeing her in such a state. So he told her the truth.

“What I want is for you to talk with me and be honest with me,” he began carefully, “I want to know why the Cauldron and Mother saw fit to pair us together. Do you know that mates are equally matched and often so is their magic, their power?”

Elain glanced away and nodded. She shifted on her feet slightly.

“I’ve done some research on it.”

Lucien leaned closer to her and clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t need her or those obnoxious bats, whom he knew lurked in the shadows, to think he would touch her. Overbearing babysitters the lot of them, even if their hearts were in the right place.

“No one knows what I’m about to tell you Elain. You could use the information against me and spread it to the Inner Circle, or anyone who might wish me harm, or you could tuck it away for private reflection. But I have much more magic and power than anyone thinks. I only let a very little bit show in the company of others. And since we are mates, I have a theory that you are the same. You only show a small bit of what you are actually capable of and have hidden the rest away. Your sisters are powerful, Elain, and I find it very hard to believe that you would be different. I also think that one of the reasons you are so unhappy is because it scares you. I could help you discover what you’re capable of - learn about it, grow with it, strengthen it, control it, and use it. You were not given a choice to become Fae and I am sorry that neither Tamlin nor I realized what was happening until it was too late. You have no idea how sorry I am. And I am sorry that you lost the love of your life in the process. I’m sorry.”

Elain stared at him. Stared and stared.

Lucien could scarcely breathe. His heart lurched forward in his chest, begging him to tug on the bond, to bring her nearer. To touch her. Kiss her. Love her.

But he forced the instinct down. Even though every beat of his heart echoed, my mate, he shut all of it down.

“There are options other than rejection,” he began slowly, “If you would like, Elain, we could discuss it, but it can’t only be me talking. And if I’m being honest, it kills me that I don’t know you. Feyre used to talk about you all the time at Spring Court when she lived there. And over the past three years I’ve gotten bits from her and Nesta, on the rare occasion I speak with her. But those are their perspectives. I would like to know first hand, about you.”

Elain looked away and cleared her throat, “What is it you want to know?”

Hope sparked in Lucien’s chest. He tightened his hands behind his back. Carefully. He had to tread so, so carefully.

“Well, for starters, I’ve always wondered if there is anything other than gardening you enjoy? What do you like? What are your passions? Your dreams? What makes you happy? Upset? Do you have any religious or spiritual beliefs? Do you enjoy sports? Do you have a favorite season? Hobbies? Preferred genre of music? Books? I want to know about you, Elain, and not from anyone else. I want to experience you. I want to know why the godsdamned universe decided why you and I should be together.”

Elain let out a breath that could have been a laugh or a huff of annoyance. He wasn’t sure which, and it killed him that he didn’t know his mate well enough to know which it was.

“I hate winter,” she whispered and looked up at the sky, “I hate the cold. I never want to be cold again. I’ve had enough of it after living in that godforsaken hovel all those years. Spring has always been my favorite season. Is … how is it there?”

Lucien frowned slightly, “Improving at a glacial pace.”

“I remember the night Azriel and Feyre came to rescue me at Hybern’s camp,” she whispered, her arms tightening around her, “And I remember Azriel holding on to me as I held on to that poor girl and watching in horror as those beast things closed in on my sister. I thought she was dead. And then Tamlin came out of no where and saved her. Saved us. I think of that quite a bit actually.”

Lucien stared at her. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“If he needs assistance with his gardens, I could help. I’m bored to tears in winter here and I don’t think the High Lord of Spring should have flagging gardens, do you?” Elain asked and met his eyes then.

Strength shone in them. Her chin tipped up slightly and Lucien lost his breath. A shiver ran along his spine as he realized his assumption on her untapped and hidden power had likely been correct. He did not stare into the eyes of a doe but a Wolf. Of course a godsdamned Wolf would would lurk under her skin. She was an Archeron sister after all.

“No, I don’t think so either. It might help Tam, to have his estate restored a bit,” Lucien suggested carefully, “If you ever wanted to get away from the cold of Velaris during winter, I could arrange it.”

Elain looked away again and whispered, “I’ve been so lonely. I don’t know what to do.”

Lucien frowned as pain wrapped around his heart, and realized with utter horror, it was not his pain but hers. Gods, had she been living with this?

“Elain,” Lucien murmured, “All I’m asking for is to share one meal. One conversation. I’m not suggesting we get mated or married or any of it. Hell, I’m not even asking for a date. I’m only asking for one conversation so that we can both maybe decide if rejecting the bond really is the best thing or if maybe, maybe, there might be something here worth exploring, growing, tending like one of your gardens. No expectations. Just …”

“Just time to decide what kind of choice we want to make with what the Cauldron gave us?” Elain offered quietly.

A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding rasped through his lips. His gold eye whirred. He blinked and golden light swirled around Elain hedged with blush pink and warm vermillion. She looked like a goddess inside the sun, and gods did he want to worship her. But was she worth worshiping? He desperately wanted to find out.

He blinked and his eye showed her as any one would see her once again. Lucien nodded his agreement.

Elain cleared her throat and looked down the street, “I didn’t eat. Did you?”

“Not much, those fools love their drink on holidays,” Lucien offered with a small laugh, “They’re a happy lot though aren’t they?”

Elain shrugged, “I suppose. Are you hungry?”

Warmth spread through his chest. Lucien allowed a smile to touch his lips.

“I could eat.”

“Do you think any of the restaurants are open?” Elain asked.

“You want to have this conversation now?” Lucien asked incredulously.

A smile bloomed across her face. Her rosy cheeks pinked further and he’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life before.

Elain released her arms and crooked an elbow to him. He stared at the offered arm. Was he dreaming?

“Well, Fox?” Elain asked, “Shall we?”

Lucien’s heart leapt in his chest. He closed the last few inches between them and looped his arm through hers. Suddenly, the weight of a thousand stones of grief and dejection lifted from his shoulders. His heart felt so light he could have wept.

“I know of one restaurant that will be open. It’s not the best, but it’s decent and within walking distance,” Lucien began, “And after this conversation, if you would like to have another - if we would both like to have another - then I can take you to my favorite restaurant. It is in the middle of the largest botanical gardens in all of Prythian.”

Elain raised an eyebrow, “In the middle of winter?”

Lucien grinned at her and winked, “It’s in Summer Court.”

She nodded, “I would like that, if,” and softly cleared her throat, “If we both decide we would like another conversation after tonight that is.”

Lucien nodded, “Very well, Lady Light. Are you cold?”

A small smile. An even smaller snicker.

“A little.”

“Give me your hand,” Lucien offered his free hand to her, palm up.

Elain stared at his open palm. Lucien felt a small lick of pride at how still she became, like a true Immortal creature, she’d mastered the art of preternatural stillness.

Then, she lightly rested her hand against his. Lucien maintained eye contact with her as he closed his fingers around her hand and touched the spark of fire within him. Elain gasped and her eyes widened.

“How did you do that?” She murmured, and a small laugh escaped her, “I’m positively toasty.”

Lucien’s heart fluttered but kept his tone airy, almost bored, “A small bit of magic for me. It’s a gift not everyone possesses. Not many know I can do it. Shall we eat? I’m rather hungry myself.”

Elain nodded, “I would like that, thank you.”

Lucien nodded and let go of her hand but tightened his arm still hooked around hers slightly. He didn’t bother to hide the widening of his smile as she gently squeezed back.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother as they walked arm in arm down the street, their tracks the only pair as they made their way away from the High Lord and Lady’s Riverside estate and into Velaris.

Lucien didn’t know what choice she would make in the end. He didn’t know what choice he would make in the end. But at least, for now, there was a sun dawning to end the longest night of the year. And he’d never been happier to see its light.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[darthmaulification]

Hey! Can I please make a request for a short Drabble where reader is Grogu’s nanny aboard the Razor Crest and Din develops a crush on her, but once he and the reader start visiting Grogu at Jedi School on weekends, Luke develops a crush as well? Doesn’t have to end up with either, but I would like to see either guy’s rivalry and slight jealousy (with Reader’s obliviousness).

A/N: ... okay so, i really got into the whole crush aspect of your request, anon, and this basically became a romantic prose piece. when i looked back to see what you had initially wanted, my product was... about thrice removed from the original prompt. 💀

i think i got some of the points??? like there’s din and luke and they’re both in love with reader and they both have a bit of rivalry with the other and basically that’s what matters??? please forgive me, anon, the ghost of sappho took my body over and forced me to write yearning love poetry!! 🙏 sis forced my hand!! 😭

though if there’s enough interest for it, i can always make a follow up for this, like from reader’s perspective, and write something a lil more in depth (once i get requests finished up that is). 😊

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: nothing but din and luke pining for reader, gn!reader (for the most part), use of she/her pronouns, fluff, but also a smidgen of angst 👁👁, perspective difference!!, kind of a commentary on mandalorian and jedi culture?? (mostly jedi culture lmao)

word count: 1,524

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now how your face lights up like candles being lit when his son succeeds at doing another one of his Jedi tricks. Joy illuminates your face like a spotlight, your soft cheers and kind praise make the whole room warmer. Din watches Grogu leap into your arms, cooing and squealing like he’s been given candy. It makes Din’s heart leap when you kiss his son on the head, and smile so warmly it’s like your lips become sunshine.

Din is infinitely grateful for his helmet in this moment, his face feels like it’s been too close to a fire. His fingers pick at a fraying stitch on his gloves, to prevent his hands from shaking in his lap. He hopes that the Jedi, who is standing casually across the room near you and Grogu, doesn’t notice. Din hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love. 

The sentence slips through the cracks of his thoughts the way a sunrise peeks over the horizon. You look over at him, holding up Grogu triumphantly in your hands like you would a prize, and he sucks in a breath because suddenly it feels like all he can see is you. You and Grogu, you and his son.

Please be my riduur.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Din forces himself to dip his head in a slight nod, because the Jedi is also looking at him with piercing blue eyes the color of the sky. His heart pounding, and when you laugh, and it sounds like summertime when everything is good and happy.

People love, he thinks as he stares at you, and suddenly his palms are sweaty and he feels the need to tap his foot, but Mandalorians love harder.

I dream about you every night, think about you when I lie awake. You’re always holding sunflowers, and the nightmares don’t touch me then.

Mandalorians love like there is nothing else in the universe more valuable, nothing more precious, not their vibroblades, their blasters, or even their beskar.

Giving up a blaster and a vibroblade in order to save you from that hut’uun came to me like breathing, I didn’t even think about it... I would’ve given up my beskar’gam too. I still would.

Mandalorians love with their souls laid bare, they love with their entire body, they love with sacred vows, exchanged beskar rings, their riduur’s name engraved on their hal’cabur, above their heart.

When you slept beside me one night, I whispered the entire marriage vow to you in Mando’a. You looked so peaceful bathed in the light of the moon, the silvery glow making you look holy. I’ll admit, it came out mostly accidentally, but it felt so normal, natural even. I wish you hadn’t been asleep.

Mandalorians love in spite of death, they love in the face of it. They love like warriors.

I had gotten shot. All I remember is you holding me in your arms, hands pressed over the wound. I was in pain, and you were crying, covered in blood and dirt, but you were so warm. I’m still unsure if I had actually said what I think I said:

“I care about you too much to leave you.”

He wants to tell you all of this, but he’s never been much of a romantic, or much of a speaker in general, so the words falter on his tongue each time he’s tried. And Din’s tried so many times. You say something to the Jedi, and it makes a sudden, surprising fury bubble in his chest, the vile rising to his throat. Din has to bite his tongue to hold back from shouting:

Don’t talk to her, di’kut jetii! You are undeserving of her words, of her time, of her presence. Unworthy! You can’t give her what I can, shabuir.

You look over at him again, and the hot anger dies completely, leaving him powerless before you. Din felt this way each time he’s tried to tell you how much you mean to him.

I love you, cyare.

It feels like your eyes are boring holes straight through his beskar, through his flight suit, singing his skin with their warmth. Din bites his cheek so hard he tastes copper.

You smile. It’s like the dawn.

You are the sun— His sun— of his universe, and his eyes burn from the light.

Din basks in the rays, and his heartbeat starts to slow to it’s normal, steady rhythm.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.

~

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now in how your entire expression blooms into one of pure joy when his padawan successfully levitates the crates. It radiates in your aura, the waves of mirth traveling further than your respectfully quiet cheers and meaningful praise. Luke watches as the child leaps into your embrace, babbling without forming any actual words. Something inside Luke lurches when you place a kiss on Grogu’s head, and when your vibrant smile dissolves his willpower.

Luke draws the Force in on himself, welcoming the sturdiness it brings. He tries to ignore how his palm has gotten sweaty, but he clenches his hand into a fist and hastily relaxes it. Focus, let in calmness like a breeze. Luke hopes that the Mandalorian, sitting stiff and looming on a far bench, doesn’t notice his moment of vulnerability. He pulls the Force closer, and hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love.

The thought springs up in his mind the way shoots of new grass breach top soil in spring time. You glance over at him as you lift the child, and the look is as quick and fleeting as blossoms on trees, but it floats in the Force like dandelion seeds, and Luke is painfully aware of how consuming you are.

Please don’t do this to me.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Luke catches your eye, offering you the smallest smile he can afford without it breaking. You look to the Mandalorian, and Luke follows your gaze because he can’t compel himself to do much else. The Mandalorian’s visor is dark like the night, and flashes when he nods his head. Luke feels his heart sink when he senses it from him, a yearning so deep he nearly drowns in it.

People love, Luke thinks and he feels all at once envious and angry and so achingly acquiescent, because Jedi cannot.

I swore by the Code years ago, but I look at you and doubt it all. It can’t be that I’m this willing to rethink everything.

Jedi are forbidden from having attachments, they cannot pursue romantic interests. Love leads to passion, and it all is an influence of the Dark. Luke knows this. He’s fallen to it before.

I’ve spent decades forgetting how deeply I cared for him! But I am reminded daily of my father, every time I look in the mirror, I see his eyes. How dare you pull me back into this cruel trap! I can’t do this again.

Luke contains himself. Jedi value peace of mind, they extend the sentiment to upholding it in the galaxy as well. They do not do it out of love, but out of obligation, out of honor, because of what’s right. They are not love.

When I first met you it was like I’d seen you before, in a past life. It was like retracing my steps, following the trail backwards, revisiting something I had passed. Despite it all, I had moved forward and took my padawan from you and the Mandalorian, plucked him from you like a petal off a flower. I watched you wilt.

Luke reminds himself. Jedi do not love. Focus is key. The Force is everything.

But you are too.

Luke has to swallow in order to make sure the words never reach his mouth, and it’s like eating thorns. You turn back to him and the look in your eyes is tender like butterfly wings. The pink in your cheeks reminds Luke of windflowers.

“Thank you again, Luke,” His soul shivers when his name sounds in your voice, “It’s so kind of you to teach Grogu.”

As he replies and tells you it’s a pleasure, he almost spills everything to you, but an abruptness shifts the energy of the room. There is a lurking anger that crawls at him through the Force, entwines him like ivies. The Mandalorian fumes, the wrath trembles like billowing leaves. Don’t. Undeserving. Unworthy.

Luke forces himself to agree and squashes down everything, pushing each painful emotion into the deepest parts of him. He watches you look to the Mandalorian, your aura flowers with affection, love.

I love you.

His resolve is fading, again. Luke reminds himself, again. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love.

You smile, and it stings his soul like nettle.

Luke forces himself to ignore that your eyes say different things when they settle on the Mandalorian than they had him. The thought feels like eating bittersweet berries.

Briefly, he revels in what could have been.

It’s for the best.

~

A/N: i thought i would add another note at the end of this to explain exactly what the heck i was saying with the word soup i just wrote.

first, din is so hopelessly in love with reader that it hurts. like physically makes his heart ache. i feel that when din falls in love, he falls in love. it consumes him. i wrote a lot of sun/light imagery to portray the overwhelming, all-encompassing love din feels for reader. you are the sun that warms him, and burns him. 

second, i purposely made luke have an even more tragic, even more conflicted crush on reader, on purpose, hahaha i am evil. 😈 he loves you, but forces himself not to. he tells himself that the jedi code means more. luke chooses to suffer because he knows that’s how it must be. there’s some plant/nature symbolism thrown throughout because that’s just the theme that i thought vibed with luke the most.

and that mention of anakin? i subscribe to the headcanon that luke really did love his dad, and just wanted him in his life, but of course, vader ultimately died. luke took a heavy blow from that, learned it hurts to love.

also, regarding the mini-rivalry that takes place, it’s through the force (if that wasn’t obvious) and it’s essentially another example of luke surrendering his own wants/desires and simultaneously din firmly declaring his love for you. it’s kinda meant to be the “understanding” between the two that clearly establishes who “wins” the reader.

... this was all one giant metaphor, huh?

[fridayfirefly]

All For The Investigation

Read All For The Investigation on AO3

Masterlist

By Tim’s calculations, there was an 87% certain that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the Parisian former hero Ladybug. However, 87% was not 100%, so Bruce required further investigation. Damian was stuck with the job.

Except, Damian knew that stuck wasn't exactly the right word. Stuck implied that he was displeased with the situation. Damian wasn't displeased. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the most pleasant person in all of Gotham Academy. If Damian had to choose anyone to be forced to spend time with, he would choose Marinette. Though he grumbled about being forced to spend time with plebeians (for the benefit of his brothers, who would mercilessly tease Damian if they even suspected that he had a crush), Damian was quite pleased by the assignment.

Given that Marinette was in his history class, it was quite easy to arrange a situation in which they were forced to be in each others' proximities. When their teacher announced that there would be an upcoming group project with randomly assigned partnerships, it was simple for Damian to break into her office and switch around some of the names. When the partnerships were announced and Marinette and Damian were paired together, Damian made his move.

"Dupain-Cheng, if you would like to work on the project over the weekend, we can do so at my house."

"Sounds good, Wayne, but you know, you can just call me Marinette," said Marinette with a smile.

Damian felt flustered, which was a very bad sign. He never felt anything less than perfectly composed. "Then you may call me Damian."

Marinette's smile got even bigger. There was a feeling in his chest that, had it been caused by anyone else, Damian would have suspected it to be a complication of the broken ribs from Joker's last attack. "Let me give you my number, and we can plan a meeting this weekend. Would Saturday work for you?"

Damian nodded as he handed Marinette his phone. "My schedule is free on Saturday."

"Great!" chirped Marinette. She plugged in her number, then posed for a picture, explaining that it was, "For the contact photo."

And if in the privacy of his bedroom, Damian stared at that contact photo for twenty-minutes straight, it was just for research purposes. Just to compare Marinette's facial structure to that of Ladybug. Completely normal investigative business.

The next morning, Damian found his way to the bedroom of his most tolerable brother. "Grayson. Can I confide in you without any of the information getting to anyone else?"

Richard glanced up from his laptop. "Sure thing, Baby Bird." He patted a spot on the bed next to him,

"Don't call me that. I despise nicknames," grumbled Damian. He took a seat, staring at the wall in front of him, still weighing the risk versus reward of talking to Richard. If his brother had some technique for extinguishing romantic interest it would solve Damian's problem. However, if either Drake or Todd got word of Damian's crush there was no doubt in Damian's mind that they would never let him hear the end of it.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It pertains to the girl in my who Drake suspects to be Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She has become difficult to investigate. I have found myself unable to observe her objectively."

Richard frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean. Is it something that she did that's bothering you?"

Damian searched for the right words to explain the situation. He was not usually so tongue-tied, but the proper words seemed to escape him at every turn. "Dupain-Cheng is not what I expected. I assumed that it would be a simple task, to observe her and determine whether she has any connection to the Parisian superhero. However, I have found it difficult to concentrate on my mission when I am around her."

"You find it difficult to concentrate when you're around her. How so?"

Damian gritted his teeth. He didn't want to spell out his crush so obviously, but Richard seemed incapable of looking between the lines. "I have found myself preoccupied with trivial things like getting to know her personality, rather than investigating her background. She makes me feel... flustered."

Damian could see the moment that Richard made the connection. His brother's face lit up as he exclaimed, "You have a crush on her?!"

"Quiet!" snapped Damian. "This does not leave this room. I need to learn how to get rid of it, so I can get back to completing the mission."

Richard was grinning ear to ear. "That's not how crushes work. You can't just snap your fingers and have them disappear. The only thing that can get rid of a crush is time. Or sometimes if they get a haircut that kills the feeling. But mostly it just takes time."

"I cannot afford to wait for these feelings to fade. I'll look into scheduling her a haircut." Damian stood up, resolved to get rid of his crush before Marinette came over later that day to work on their project.

"No wait," Richard grabbed Damian's arm. "I doubt that your attraction to her is so shallow that a haircut would destroy the feelings you have for her. This is something that you'll have to talk to her about."

Damian frowned. "Perhaps I should give the mission to someone else. Jon could transfer to Gotham Academy for the semester. His detective skills are lacking but his judgment would be less clouded than mine. If I ignore her for long enough I'm sure that I can evade talking about my feelings."

"Why don't you just ignore the mission for a few weeks while you get to know her."

Damian fixed Richard with a death glare. "I cannot ignore this mission. Father gave it to me personally."

"How about twenty-four hours? You spend the next twenty-four hours in getting-to-know-her mode rather than background-check mode and at the end of it, we can regroup and decide what to do next. If you actually get to know her, you'll better understand the depths of your feelings. Once you have that understanding, you'll be able to see if waiting out your crush is a viable option or if you need to pass on the responsibilities to someone else."

It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than anything Damian had come up with. Anything that could potentially alleviate Damian's inability to focus on the investigation was worth trying. "Fine," Damian replied curtly. "Thank you for your assistance."

"No problem," said Richard. "You know, I would love to get to meet Marinette sometime."

"Don't push your luck," grumbled Damian, ignoring Richard's laughter as he stood up and left the room. There would be no way to hide the fact that Marinette was coming over to the Manor from his family. There was also no way that his family wouldn't intrude upon Damian and Marinette as they worked. However, if he explained everything beforehand and phrased everything in precisely the right way, he might be able to pass off his odd behavior towards Marinette as a part of his investigation. Damian pulled out his phone and composed a text to send to the family groupchat.

Damian: Dupain-Cheng is coming to the Manor at approximately 22:00 to work on a history project. I will be covertly conducting my investigation. From what I have gathered, she would respond better to subtle questioning, rather than a straightforward interrogation.

Tim: wait does subtle interrogation mean that you'll be flirting with her???

Jason: I need to see this

Steph: I'm willing to bet money that his flirting offends Marinette so much she storms out of the Manor before Damian can finish the mission

Dick: No way. I'll bet 20 dollars that his flirting works too well

Steph: done

Damian huffed, half tempted to call off his meeting with Marinette. His siblings were insufferable.

Damian: Please refrain from intervening. Confirming that Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug is a vital first step in determining whether the Justice League needs to interfere in the affairs of the Order of the Miraculous.

Bruce: Damian is correct. No one will bother him while he is working with Marinette.

Damian smirked as he turned his phone off. His plan wasn't foolproof, of course, but a direct order from Bruce to not interfere would force his siblings to be more subtle about spying on him and Marinette. The chance of him being interrupted was significantly decreased.

Damian got everything set up in the den, which was only ever used on family movie night. It was perfectly situated for the task at hand - a room small enough to be classed as cozy but big enough to not feel cramped. It was out of the way, surrounded by other equally unused rooms, so his siblings would have no excuse for lurking in the hallway outside. Damian brought in snacks, chargers, and a few books from the Wayne Manor library on Renaissance Art, the topic of their project.

Marinette arrived promptly at 2 in the afternoon, holding a Tupperware container full of gingerbread cookies, with a smile on her face. "Hi, Damian. I brought cookies."

None of his planning accounted for this moment, for first laying eyes on Marinette. Damian froze up, desperate to put the right words in the right order. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette. I have everything set up in the den if you'll just follow me."

"Sure." Marinette toed off her black boots and arranged them on the shoe tray next to the door. She was left in sage green cat-print socks that matched the rest of her outfit, a pine green sweater and black jeans. Damian couldn't help but wonder if she knit the sweater herself - Marinette's talent for designing was well-known throughout Gotham Academy, as it was what got her accepted into the prestigious high school in the first place.

Marinette followed Damian through the Manor, complimenting little details that Damian had never noticed before - the pattern of the curtains, the bay window in a sitting room that Damian had never bothered to enter, the family pictures that lined the wall in the hallway. Marinette made it seem so obvious to pay attention to those little details. Damian wished that he could see the Manor for the first time through her eyes and feel the same amazement that she felt as she oohed and awed over the decadence that Damian had considered banal.

Damian was so captivated by Marinette that he almost missed the fact that Drake and Brown were lurking in the study across the hall from the den. A text to his father about the gravity of his mission would be enough to get them sent away on some inconsequential but time-consuming task. Damian would have to find an inconspicuous time to pull out his phone during their work on the project to let his father know about their intrusion.

"Now I know why you call it Wayne Manor. This place is huge." Marinette shrugged off her backpack and set it down on the coffee table next to her container of cookies.

"Its size is entirely unnecessary for ordinary life," agreed Damian. "However, it makes for very challenging games of hide-and-seek."

Marinette giggled. "That sounds like fun. You'll have to invite me next time you play."

"I'll make sure of it." Damian smiled, surprised to find that his happiness wasn't forced. He rarely engaged in childish behavior, and even more rarely did he find any enjoyment in it. Yet the mental image of playing a child's game with Marinette was pleasant to him. The feelings he had for her were deeper than Damian anticipated.

The pair got to work on their project. Damian sent out the text to his father as soon as he opened his laptop, leaving Marinette under the impression that he was researching sources. A series of irritable texts in the family groupchat confirmed the fact that Drake and Brown had been removed from their hiding spot.

"Do you want to try a cookie?" asked Marinette, pushing the Tupperware towards Damian.

"Thank you." Damian took one, just to be polite. Growing up in the League of Assassins, he never really had a taste for sweets. Alfred's baking was the extent of what he would tolerate. He took a bite - small, to back up his claim that he already ate if it turned out to be inedible. Surprisingly, it was nearly as good as Alfred's gingerbread cookies, and those were tailer made to Damian's taste. The cookies were heavy on the ginger and cloves, just as Damian liked. "These are delicious," Damian professed.

Marinette blushed. "Thanks. I know they taste a little different than store-bought gingerbread. My parents make them with a lot of ginger."

"These are much superior to store-bought cookies."

"Thanks. You know, you're a lot nicer outside of school. You always seemed kind of grumpy in class."

"I'm not a fan of the state-mandated curriculum."

Marinette nodded. "I get what you mean. I barely have any room in my schedule for my design classes, with all the mandatory classes that Gotham Academy makes us take. I'm lucky that I have my internship, otherwise, I think I would go crazy, taking so many classes that I don't care about."

"Your internship is with Audrey Bourgeoise, isn't it?"

Marinette nodded. "I was friends with her daughter, back in Paris. Originally it was going to be a four-year internship in New York City, but I renegotiated some of the terms so that I could do the first two years in Paris, then the last two in Gotham, while she established the new branch of her company."

"You renegotiated the terms of a prestigious internship at the age of fourteen? Weren't you afraid of losing it if you pushed too hard?"

Marinette shrugged, nonchalant as if it were normal for an intern to make such a bold move. "I didn't want to leave Paris. My whole life was there. I wasn't ready to just pick up and move to a new country."

"What changed that you were able to come to Gotham?"

"There were a lot of reasons. Hawkmoth was the biggest one. I felt nervous about leaving my family and friends behind when he was terrorizing the city. After he was defeated I felt a lot more comfortable leaving."

That aligned with the theory that Marinette was Ladybug. "What were the other reasons?"

"My age was one. I didn't feel ready to leave home at fourteen and my parents didn't like the idea of me leaving home that young either. Another big one was the fact that I didn't have a good handle on my personal style. I was worried that designing full-time in Audrey Bourgeoise's office would cause me to lose my originality. The worst thing I could imagine was watering down my designs to appeal to the rest of the fashion industry."

"Your conviction is impressive. Most in your position would not worry about selling out to obtain such a highly coveted position."

"Audrey said the same thing, though when she said it, she spoke it with annoyance, not admiration. I've never been highly motivated by wide-spread success. I don't need to be a household name to feel content with life. I just want to design clothes that I'm proud of."

The fluttering feeling in Damian's chest returned with full force, alongside a tendril of anger at the unfairness of the situation. Here was the most perfect person Damian had ever laid his eyes on, and he was forced to pick her apart piece by piece to figure out her deepest darkest secrets. Damian didn't know much about relationships, but this didn't seem like the way they were supposed to go.

"You look upset," Marinette's observation was tinged by the worry in her voice.

"I'm not upset," he assured her. "I was just wondering how I never noticed how interesting you are."

Marinette flushed, her cheeks turning pink. "What does that mean?"

Damian shrugged. While his nonchalant attitude was all a bluff, his admiration of her accomplishments was all real. "Most of our classmates feel accomplished with the most conventional of achievements. Yet you secured an internship at the side of one of the most renowned fashion critics in the world and you still stay humble about it. You weren't blind-sighted by the incredible opportunity. You fought to maintain your values, no matter if it meant losing something priceless."

Marinette's blush deepened. "That's just who I am. It's not special, it's me."

"It is you," agreed Damian. "And it is special."

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by the emotion in his words. "We should get back to work," she said, self-consciously rubbing one cheek with the sleeve of her green wool sweater.

"Of course," Damian amicably agreed. He had pushed far enough for intel and had managed to get to know her a little better in the process. His flirting wasn't as blatant as it could have been, but it got the job done. Richard had said that once he knew the depths of his feelings he would know what to do. Richard was right. Damian's feelings were seemingly endless, a maze of all the things he liked about Marinette, in which every corner he turned was a new quirk that he couldn't un-notice. Yet Damian didn't want to pass on the responsibility of investigating Marinette to anyone else. He wanted a reason to spend time with her.

It wasn't the best situation. Damian wished that he could get to know her organically. However, Damian wasn't the type to dwell on the could-have-been. He had an opportunity to get to know Marinette right in front of him and he wasn't going to let it go.

Hours later, after Marinette went home, Richard stopped him in the hallway. "So what did you learn?"

"My investigation has proven inconclusive. I need to further get to know Marinette Dupain-Cheng if I want to uncover her identity. For research purposes, of course."

Richard laughed. "Of course."