#I also hadn't the intention to use the character's tag either

[moonyasnow]

Malleus x Irina

A little doodle I made of the two of them

(for anyone who can't use spotify, the song names will be at the bottom of this post)

I love them together so much

It is no longer possible for me to imagine either of them being with anyone else but the other. And for me that's really saying something— I ship my OCs with a lot of characters. And I'm a multishipper too— like, I can definitely find someone's, for example, OC x Leona ship really cute while still shipping my own OC Tomoe with Leona. But it's impossible for me to seriously imagine Irina with anyone but Malleus anymore, and vise versa

Edit 2: I answered an ask I got about them~

If this post gets even like 3 likes that's gonna be enough interest gauged for me and I AM gonna start infodumping about them and just going off the rails about why I think they're perfect and made for each other under the tag: #mallina 🐉x🐰

EDIT: IT NOW OFFICIALLY HAS 3 LIKES YOU ARE NOT SAFE THIS IS NOT A THREAT IT IS A STATEMENT OF INTENT I WILL INFODUMOP--

BUT! I'm gonna include what I wrote for them in Irina's Showcase Post, under the cut + some new stuff for Book 7

Book 2

One night she'd just been laying in bed unable to sleep, hearing the distant whispers of her parents fighting at the edges of her mind like usual, and deciding to go outside just to escape the confined room and get some kind of distraction from hearing them. She was incredibly startled hearing someone suddenly call out to her, having been too stuck in her own thoughts to notice him approaching like she usually could. She was honestly scared at first, though mostly as a result of being caught with her guard down, which she usually never was.

But as soon as she properly looked into his eyes, all that fear suddenly seemed to fade away in an instant. She didn't know why, but she suddenly started to feel relaxed in his presence, more so than she usually ever did. And she felt almost sad when he disappeared. But she told herself off for it; that was the first time she'd ever met him after all, and she didn't even know his name. But since he'd said she could call him whatever she wanted...

She'd call him Peridot, after the color of his eyes. 'Peri' for short.

Tomoe's (my 'Yuu') first reaction to the name 'Peri' was to laugh, explaining that it made her think of Perry the Platypus. And once she'd also had the thought, Irina couldn't help but laugh too, 'Peri' being exchanged for 'Perry' in her mind after that point.

Book 3

She ended up being asked by some Student or other if she'd thought about joining a club yet. She hadn't, not even really knowing which clubs actually existed. And so she decided to take a look to see if anything seemed interesting; she had a lot more free time after being fired from her job anyway. When she saw that there was a 'Gargoyle Appreciation Club' and that it had only one member, she knew instantly who that must be, and decided to join it.

Book 4

When Lilia showed up to give her the postcard, she knew who it must have been from. And so she asked Lilia to wait for a second, rushing into her room to get a box, with a letter attached, which she asked him to give to the sender of the postcard. It was a birthday gift for her friend Peridot; a clay tea pot, its spout designed to look like a little dragon, the handle on the opposite end sculpted into the shape of a scaly tail. The letter contained not only wishes for him to have a happy birthday, but also an explanation of the spout. She wanted to give him a Gargoyle as a gift, but she also wanted to make sure it was an actual Gargoyle, with a clear purpose, rather than just a decorative Grotesque. So she settled on a tea pot! Since it serves as the spout, the 'needs water spout' element of a Gargoyle was cleared, as well.

She wasn't there to see it, but when he got her gift and read the letter, he was so beside himself with joy that for the first time in at least a century, there was sunshine in Briar Valley. Not only was it a birthday gift from his best friend, hand-crafted no less, it was also incredibly thoughtful, proof to him that she'd been listening and paying attention to every single word of all his rambles about his beloved Gargoyles. The next time they met again, before any words could be spoken he quite literally picked her up off the ground and spun her around as a way to say 'thank you'. That was the moment she admitted to herself that she'd fallen in love with him.

He ended up insisting on them drinking at least one cup of tea for all their club meetings after this point, so he got a chance to use it. And he also insisted on the same for every single Housewarden meeting he went to, which he'd started to actually know the times and places of thanks to Irina knowing through Tomoe and telling him. If he'd had any less decorum he would have literally shoved the pot in the face of random people in the halls; he was that happy about it.

Book 5

She's also the one who gives Malleus the tickets to the SDC. For their booth at the cultural festival Irina made a bunch of small clay figurines of Grotesques and then wrote above them the differences between them and Gargoyles, to educate people.

When Tomoe meets Malleus for the first time, she lightly teases Irina, asking "So this is the famous 'Perry the Platypus."' Irina got very embarrassed, and Malleus, eyes wide with surprise, asked if that was meant to refer to him. Irina, face burning with embarrassment, then explains the name and its connection to a certain animated Platypus spy, but also says her nickname for him was actually supposed to be short for Peridot. It ended with Malleus bursting out laughing right then and there, Irina, still embarrassed, saying: "W-was it really that funny?" It then becomes a recurring inside joke of him calling himself 'her platypus friend'.

When Malleus began to fix the stage, not being used to magic and thus a bit scared at first, Irina moved close to his side out of reflex, feeling safer there. It made him really happy to think that for once, not only was there someone who wasn't afraid of him, but she even felt safe around him. Though she became very flustered when she realized she'd been gripping onto his jacket arm.

Book 6

She stays behind at NRC, in an unoccupied room at Diasomnia.

You can guess who invited her.

Book 7

I have not yet read Book 7, but! This time it's Irina's time to shine instead of Tomoe! Irina understands why Malleus does what he does, she also hates losing people; that's why she's not going to lose him to his Overblot

New Book 7 thing:

She runs to him, who's sitting on the ground, and throws herself around his neck. She's crying. “I-I-I was— w-was so— sca-red…!” Her voice is shaking and wavering so much from the tears that she can barely speak. “I…apologize, my dear Child of Man… I know now that my actions were wrong, but it was never my intention to frighten—“ “Th-that's not why!” Uncharacteristically, she cuts him off. “I was so, so, s-so worried! I thought you could die! I-if I didn't defeat you in time. I-I thought you were going to die! I thought I'd lo-lose you!!!” Then she just can't hold it in anymore— she starts wailing, just at the mere thought. She holds him tighter. When she's calmed down enough that there are no longer tears cascading down her face, she pulls back…and she cups his cheeks and pulls him closer so their foreheads touch. “I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you! I—“

If you've read this far I'm gonna guess you're interested, and I'm humbly asking (begging) for asks about this ship I love them so so so so so so so so so muchhhhhhhh and I wanna YAP but I usually don't know where to start

Songs:

A thousand Years - Christina Perri

Once upon a dream [COVER] - Invadable Harmony

上弦の月/Jougen no tsuki/Crescent Moon - KurousaP ft. Kaito (MALLEUS' VA HAS SUNG THIS!)

After the War - Reinaeiry

Something Good - Sound of Music

And I'm Home - Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Terrified - Jazmin Bean

Camelot: If ever I would Leave You

しわ/shiwa/wrinkle [COVER] - Kashitarou Itou

Kimi Ga Irukara - Fairy Tail ending song

No One But You - Erutan

Captivated - IV of Spades

蛍/hotaru/firefly - Maiko Fujita

Love Like You [COVER] - Lizz Robinett

馬と鹿/uma to shika/horse and deer - Kenshi Yonezu

I am not Alone - When Marnie was there

Will o' The Wisp - Erutan

Necro no Hanayome/Bride of Necro - KANON69

Build a Little World With Me - Laura Shigihara

Will I Find My Home (acoustic version) - Juniper Vale

LADY - Kenshi Yonezu

Sway - Michael Bublé

Everything's Alright [COVER] - Lizz Robinett

Also way at the very bottom but here, original:

[pipermca]

Resonance

Author's note: I am not sure what to do with this story. It's a prequel to a fic that I haven't started posting yet, starring some very minor characters from that story. 😅 But my brain wanted to work on this, so I let it, and this is what came out. However I don't want to post it to AO3 yet because I need it to be a bit separate from the main fic until that one is well underway.

I'm posting this here just to have it down someplace. That way it's out of my hair. Once I start posting the longer, main story, I'll clean this up again and post it to AO3.

Enjoy. :)

Title: Resonance

Rating: PG for descriptions of violence

Tags: Bluestreak/Hound, Bluestreak & Smokescreen, Continuity soup, Post-apocalypse, Soulmate AU

Word count: 5100

Every sensor in Bluestreak's haptic net was tingling. Or that's what it felt like, anyway. And when he attempted to ignore the constant pings from his sensors, all he could feel was his fuel pump thudding away in his chest, or how loud his ventilation systems had become. So instead he put all of his focus on following Smokescreen, and stepping as quietly as he could. But the scattered gravel and broken glass crunching under their pedes sounded like fireworks, and he winced at every stray sound they made.

Bluestreak was so intent on moving as stealthily as he possibly could that he ran into Smokescreen's left sensor wing when he stopped.

"Eep!" Bluestreak squeaked, then clapped a hand over his mouth, his optics wide.

Smokescreen reached out a hand to steady Bluestreak as he reeled backwards. "Good job staying close," he said quietly. He smiled and patted Bluestreak on the shoulder. "But maybe leave just a bit more following distance next time."

"I'm sorry!" Bluestreak whispered, flattening his sensor wings against his back.

"It's all right. Just let me peek down there, and if I don't see anything I'll let you know." Smokescreen pulled out his weapon and slipped into the darkened building they'd been heading towards.

Bluestreak crouched down beside the doorway. He pulled out his own weapon and held it ready, his thumb nervously caressing the trigger. He looked up the street, then down the street, then up above him, over and over. Left. Right. Up. Left. Right. Up.

He hated this. He hated everything about this. They had been forced to venture further and further from their shelter to look for fuel and other supplies, creeping into places where they knew the Quintessons had been seen. There hadn't been any sightings of prosecutors in a few weeks, but with communications down and the city in ruins, they had no way of knowing whether the aliens were just hiding around the next corner. They'd also run into bots like themselves, people just trying to scrape by with what they could find. Most of them had been friendly, and shared information and fuel with them. But others had not been friendly at all.

He felt lost. He felt like they were on their own. Even Primus didn't seem to give a scrap about what happened to them.

As soon as Bluestreak had that thought, he cringed internally and offered up a silent prayer of apology. He knew that there were some things even Primus couldn't fix.

Bluestreak was completing his fourteenth visual sweep of the ruined street when Smokescreen reappeared in the doorway. "It's clear. C'mon," he said, and Bluestreak followed him inside.

Like most of the other stores they'd searched today, this one looked like it had already been looted of anything useful. But Bluestreak started opening cabinets and boxes anyway, hunting for anything they could take. "I don't think we're going to find anything here, Smokey," he said. "This is a waste of time." He knew he sounded petulant. He didn’t care anymore.

"Maybe there's something in the back," Smokescreen said. With a sigh, Bluestreak followed him through the doorway into the rear of the store.

As expected, there wasn't much in the back of the store, either. Bluestreak found a packet of rust crisps in the drawer of a desk, and Smokescreen found five small datapads. He pulled the battery cells from them and slipped those into his compartments. Then he jerked his head towards the back door. "Let's head back up the alley and see if there's any places we missed on this stretch."

He had just come through the door to the alley when Bluestreak saw it: a long black tentacle dangling from the sky above them. Reflexively, he swung his gun up and fired, severing the tentacle so that it fell onto the ground in front of them.

Dropping into a crouch, Bluestreak skittered back into the safety of the doorway, waving his gun back and forth above him, looking for the rest of the prosecutor. Or worse, rest of its argument. But all he could see above him were the bombed-out and crumbling towers that sat above the retail space.

"Where'd it go? Where'd it go?" Bluestreak hissed.

Something touched his shoulder. Bluestreak yelped and spun around. His finger twitched on the trigger, and fired before his processor even registered what he was shooting at...

Smokescreen.

Smokescreen's hand closed firmly around Bluestreak's wrist. "Maybe we're done for today," Smokescreen said quietly, and glanced at the hole in the wall right beside his head.

"Oh. Oh!" Bluestreak dropped his weapon, wincing again as it clattered to the ground. "Oh Primus Smokey, I'm so sorry!"

Smokescreen picked up Bluestreak's gun and tucked it into his compartments. "I'm fine," he said. He gave Bluestreak a smile, but this time it looked forced. "But we should go before someone – or something – comes to see what that noise was."

"The prosecutor!" Bluestreak whirled around again to look at the tentacle he'd just severed from the prosecutor.

Except there was no tentacle. Instead, a length of wires, wrapped with black insulation, lay on the alley floor. One end was torn and bent, obviously ripped from its connector, while the other end was smoking and melted from Bluestreak's blaster shot.

"I thought..." Bluestreak walked a step, then two, into the alley to nudge the cabling with the tip of his pede. "I thought it was..."

"I know. And I understand," Smokescreen said. He put his hand on Bluestreak's shoulder again, this time telegraphing his movements carefully. "It's starting to get late. Let's get back home."

***

Bluestreak sat with his back to a corner with his head buried in his arms. He hoped that if he made himself small enough, no one would notice him there. Inside his chest, it felt like his spark was singing a mournful dirge.

Everything was broken: his job, his life, his planet. Nothing was right. And nothing he did was making anything better.

Maybe he could just put himself into stasis. Someone could wake him up when the world had fixed itself again. But for now, he just wanted to be left alone.

At the sound of a pede scraping the ground purposefully, Bluestreak sighed. He should have known.

"Skyfall found three whole cases of Nukecool. I grabbed a bottle for us to share," said Smokescreen's voice.

"I don't want it."

A pause. "Are you sure? It's the good kind, with the red label. You always told me how much you really liked this flavour."

"You can have it."

Another pause. "Are you all right?"

Bluestreak's reply was sharper than he meant it to be, but who cared? Everything was broken. Maybe he could break his last remaining friendship, too. "No."

Smokescreen slid down the wall to sit next to Bluestreak, and set a bottle down beside him. Bluestreak didn't have to look up to know that Smokescreen was looking at him with that intent expression he always had when he was listening fully and attentively. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"You can't psychoanalyze me out of feeling like... this," Bluestreak said.

"No," said Smokescreen agreeably. "But I can still listen."

"What's the point of talking about how absolutely fracked we are?" Bluestreak lifted his head and looked up at the ceiling of the half-crumbled transport tunnel they were taking shelter in. He gestured with both of his hands, taking in the shadowy walls, the small piles of gathered supplies, and the groups of bots huddled here and there among the scavenged crates. "You've lived through the same things I have. The Quintessons arriving. The attack on the Senate. Praxus losing comms with the rest of the planet, then the invasion coming here, and-" Bluestreak's voice cut off in a warble of feedback, so he shook his head and looked at Smokescreen. He didn't care if his friend saw the streaks of coolant that had been running down his cheeks.

"I definitely remember," Smokescreen said quietly.

"Yeah." Bluestreak blinked several times, trying to clear the image of the Quintesson prosecutors' tentacles smashing through doors and windows of the shops on his street, and dragging out the people they found inside. Bluestreak could still hear the screams of those they took. He remembered watching Treadlight, the paint specialist across the street, get pulled into a prosecutor, shrieking in terror. He remembered scuttling from building to building, trying to avoid the squads of allicons roaming the city. He could still smell the acrid burnt metal of corpses who had been shot in the back as they ran. "And now... I almost killed the only friend of mine I know who's still alive."

"You didn't. I'm still here."

"But I could have! I almost did!" Bluestreak glared at Smokescreen. "So no. I am not 'all right.'"

Smokescreen was silent. When Bluestreak glanced away again, Smokescreen put his arm around Bluestreak's shoulders. "I am sorry. I didn't mean it like that. How about... Are you going to be all right for the moment? Right this second?"

Bluestreak grunted, realizing what Smokescreen was angling for. "Yeah. I guess. I'm not going to start screaming for the Quintessons to come finish us off, like Padlock did." He directed his glare at the ground in front of his pedetips, but leaned into Smokescreen's embrace. "I just feel useless like this, jumping at everything."

"You're not useless," Smokescreen said. "You're really observant. You're good at spotting things that others have missed. You're an excellent shot." When Bluestreak just grunted again, Smokescreen patted his shoulder. "And you're not the only one who's struggling." With his other hand, Smokescreen gestured at the other bots in the tunnel with them. "Everyone here is going through something. No one's been spared. So, you aren't alone in feeling like this."

Bluestreak looked around. Scattor was sitting with a group, but rocked back and forth muttering to himself. Evac stood by the tunnel entrance on guard duty, but flicked his rotors at every little sound. Windrazor sat alone like he always did, staring off into space just like he had ever since his spark resonant was killed. Every single bot in the shelter looked haunted in some way or another.

"I know," Bluestreak said with a sigh. "Thank you for that little reality check."

"Here," Smokescreen said, and handed Bluestreak the red bottle. "This might help, too."

Bluestreak accepted the bottle, and made a small sound of surprise. "It's cold!"

Smokescreen grinned. "Yeah. Glyph broke out some of the chill packs for this. I think it was worth it."

With a happy sound, Bluestreak took a big swig from the bottle. He savoured the familiar flavour, rolling it around in his intake. He sighed happily, then handed the bottle back to Smokescreen. "And what about you? How are you holding up?" When Smokescreen did not immediately reply, Bluestreak added, "You're always so... steady. And I really appreciate that. But you're struggling too, right?" Bluestreak waited while Smokescreen took a drink from the bottle. "But if you need to unload on me, you can."

Smokescreen tipped his head back and rested it on the wall behind him. "All I can think about is how nothing is ever going to be the same," he said. He stared up at the ceiling, expressionless. "Even if the Quints left tomorrow, so much is destroyed now. Buildings. The city. People. And who knows how bad things are outside of Praxus." He closed his optics. "It seems so unreal to me that just a few months ago, everything seemed normal. We knew that the Quints had arrived and there were some negotiations happening in Iacon, but... That was so far away. It was just news and politics. Who cared?" He opened his optics again and looked down at Bluestreak. "That last night, I dragged you out to that horrible movie-"

Bluestreak laughed at the memory. "That was really bad."

"I am sorry. Barricade suggested it. He said that his partner Prowl had really liked it. I should have known better than to trust his judgement about anything art related," Smokescreen said with a grin, then sobered again. "I wonder where they are. I hope they're both all right." He sighed, then continued. "After the movie, we went to The Rusty Strut for drinks, and I remember we got out of there way too late..."

"I was late opening my shop the next day," Bluestreak said.

"Like I said, way too late. And that morning there was news about the attacks in Iacon. Then something about the Senatorial Guard getting decimated. That afternoon, planetary-wide comms went down. And then that evening, just a few hours later..." He shook his head. "Like I said, I can't believe it's only been a few months."

Bluestreak shuddered, and Smokescreen fell silent.

After a few minutes, Smokescreen patted Bluestreak's shoulder again. "Did you want to sing a hymn together?" When Bluestreak sat up and stared at him in surprise, Smokescreen shrugged. "I hear you humming them sometimes, especially when you're feeling really stressed."

"A hymn?" Bluestreak narrowed his optics. "You don't have a religious circuit in your entire frame," he said.

"No. But you do. And if it'll help you feel better, I'm willing to give it a go. Who knows, maybe it'll help me relax, too," Smokescreen said. Then he smiled. "But be forewarned, I am a horrible singer."

With a quiet laugh, Bluestreak said, "That's all right. Primus doesn't care how good of a singer you are. He just cares what's in your spark." He thought for a moment, then said, "Do you know the words to Gather the Sparks? That's the one I think I hum the most."

"Nope," Smokescreen said. "But if you sing it through once, I'll join in the second time around."

***

Bluestreak did not know whether it was the bottle of his favourite drink, or singing a calming hymn, or talking with Smokescreen the previous night that had done the trick, but he definitely felt better in the morning.

Things still felt pretty dire, of course. The shared rations were still slim. Everyone still looked like they were on edge, except for Windrazor, who was still in shock after the loss of his spark resonant. At least Skyfall seemed to be able to get him to take some fuel once in a while.

But this morning, Bluestreak's spark felt lighter. The future didn't seem so dark, somehow. Even the colours of the early morning sky seemed more vivid.

The whole world felt more hopeful.

Smokescreen noticed Bluestreak's new attitude, of course. He had always been tuned into his friends' emotions like that. When Bluestreak didn't have a good explanation for why he was feeling better, Smokescreen shrugged. "I'm just glad to see you smiling again, a real smile this time," Smokescreen said, slapping his friend on the back. "I missed that."

Bluestreak ducked his head, but felt his smile broaden. "Me too."

They were just discussing where they should start their scavenging run for the day when Stakeout tore into the shelter, his tires sending up bits of glass and gravel as he braked.

"What's wrong?" Evac asked, his rotors flaring outwards. He peered down the tunnel. "Are you being chased? Is it Quintessons?"

"No!" Stakeout said, transforming. He looked... Well, he looked elated, an expression that Bluestreak hadn't seen the dour Enforcer wearing before this. "It's the army! They're here! They're setting up a triage center with fuel and doctors and shuttles and everything else in Lucent Plaza." He laughed. "I think we can finally get out of here!"

As excited voices rose around them, Smokescreen spoke over the noise. "Wait... What army? Last we heard the Senatorial Guard got wiped out, and we all saw what happened to the Civil Defense here. Who is actually down in the plaza?"

Stakeout shook his head. "I don't know. The livery on the shuttles is all different. Some of them have Senatorial Guard emblems, some have Vosian insignia, and I saw at least one with a mining company logo. But I saw the people myself, and they're Cybertronians, not Quints."

Smokescreen pulled Bluestreak aside while Evac and the others started making plans to get everyone to the plaza. "Maybe I've just been too stressed for too long, but..." He sighed, a frown twisting the corners of his mouth downwards.

Bluestreak felt the same excitement in his spark that the others in their hideout were expressing, but Smokescreen's frown tempered his reply. "What is it? Do you think that the Quintessons might be using Cybertronians to lure people in just to capture them?" Bluestreak asked.

"Something like that," Smokescreen said with a small smile. "Am I being too paranoid?"

"Maybe a little. Usually being paranoid my job," Bluestreak said, returning Smokescreen's smile. Bluestreak flicked his wings. "But to be safe, let's not go rushing down there. Let's go scope it out first, and then we can decide what to do."

The drive to the plaza was mostly clear, although they needed to detour around two destroyed bridges. They approached from the east, circling to the top of the Torus Bridge that overlooked the plaza.

Even though Bluestreak had felt more and more happy as they'd gotten closer to the plaza, he paused at the top of the bridge and scanned the horizon carefully. Even bombed out like they were, the tall towers of Praxus could still be hiding any number of the smaller ships that the Quintessons used. But the two larger ships, the ones that had hung in the air like coiled razorsnakes over the city for months, were nowhere to be seen.

Bluestreak's elation ratcheted upwards once more.

In the large plaza below them, a dozen shuttles were parked, with bots streaming into the plaza from all directions. It looked like organized chaos, with some bots directing weary Praxian residents where to go, while others helped bots form neat queues in front of various tables. Obviously injured bots were being escorted to one of the ships, while more bots circulated handing out what looked like energon cubes.

All Bluestreak could feel now was an insistent urge to be down there, in the plaza. It felt like an almost visceral pull on his spark.

Smokescreen's sensor wings tipped upwards. "Is it me, or do a lot of the bots down there have the Prime's insignia on their shoulders?"

Bluestreak squinted, then gasped when he confirmed what Smokescreen had seen. "They are! It's the Wing of the Prime! And can see a few Hand members, as well."

"I thought the Hand of the Prime was just... I dunno, protection from paparazzi," Smokescreen said. "And the Wing is just clerics and curates. The Prime is just a religious leader. He doesn't have an army."

"Well, yeah. But maybe they've been, I dunno, training for something like this." Bluestreak gestured at the motley array of vehicles in the plaza. "And they obviously have some help, right?" His wings quivered behind him as he peered at Smokescreen. "Do you believe now that they aren't really Quintessons trying to trick us into getting ourselves captured?"

"Yeah. I believe it now." Smokescreen backed away from the edge of the bridge. "And I can practically feel you vibrating with excitement. Let's get you down there before you blow a relay," he added with a laugh.

The pull on Bluestreak's spark got even more insistent when they entered the plaza. A red-plated truck waved them down at the perimeter path. "Do you need medical care, or fuel?" he asked. His shoulders bore the insignia of the Prime's Hand.

"No. We're fine, thankfully," Smokescreen said. "Honestly we're just looking to get out of here." He glanced skyward. "Are the Quints really gone?"

The red bot gave a half shrug. "They peeled out of here about a week and a half ago. No idea why. We waited to make sure they were really gone before moving in." He gestured at the ships. "As soon as we were sure, the Prime gave us orders to get as many people to safety as we can. If there are more here than we can carry, we'll call for more ships. But we will get everyone who wants to leave out."

"Where to?" Smokescreen asked.

"We've got a couple of bases set up, places where we can regroup and figure out how to fight back." The red-plated guard pulled himself to his full height. "We're gonna take Cybertron back from those squidbrains, one way or another."

Bluestreak listened to the exchange impatiently, scanning the crowd behind the Prime's guard. He didn't want to leave, not yet. What he wanted to do was drive through the crowd. He wanted to see all the people here.

...Which was weird. Bluestreak normally hated crowds. As Smokescreen thanked the guard, Bluestreak shook his head to clear that thought. Seeing everyone here was more important than his dislike of crowds.

The moment Smokescreen turned away from the guard, Bluestreak grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, into the crowd.

"Whoa, Blue, where are we going?" Smokescreen asked. "The bot back there said that the signups for an evacuation flight are over that way."

"I want to go this way," Bluestreak said, his optics scanning bots they passed. He wasn't sure what - or who - he was looking for. All he knew was that he'd know them when he saw them.

Smokescreen laughed. "You're acting like you found your spark resonant or something."

Bluestreak barely even heard Smokescreen as he wove around groups of bots, tables of supplies, and ramps of shuttles. He knew that this was the direction he needed to go in to find...

...? What was he looking for?

Bluestreak slowed as they circled around the landing gear of a squat, utilitarian transport. As they came out the other side, his optics landed on a boxy green truck. The truck was helping a blue Vosian load boxes into the bed of a hauler.

When he stopped and looked up, the truck's gaze met Bluestreak's immediately.

He had the bluest optics Bluestreak had ever seen. And when he smiled, Bluestreak's processor could only catalogue the way it made the truck's optics crinkle up at the corners, and how kind it made him look, and how much Bluestreak wanted to have that smile directed at him forever and ever.

Bluestreak was suddenly standing in front of the green bot. He didn't remember walking over to him.

Smokescreen was talking to someone behind him. "I'm sorry, I know we're probably not supposed to be back here, but my friend-"

"I'm sure we can help you out," said another voice. "And I think I know what's going on." Bluestreak assumed it was the Vosian talking. But that wasn't important now.

"I know you, I think," the green bot said. His voice thrilled Bluestreak's audials, as though he'd always wanted to hear this voice in particular. The green bot held out his hand, and Bluestreak reflexively reached out his own. "I'm-"

Their hands touched.

As soon as their fingers made contact, something surged inside Bluestreak's spark. The excited twirl that his spark had been doing all morning suddenly swirled into a dance, weaving a complex design with another, matched spark. From that dance rose a song, a joyful anthem of celebration. And for each note that Bluestreak's spark sang, the harmony was sung by its mate.

"Oh," said the green bot softly. His smile grew, as did the brightness of his optics.

That single word sent Bluestreak's spark into another burst of radiant joy.

Smokescreen was saying something, but Bluestreak wasn't listening. He wanted the green mech to speak again.

"I'm Bluestreak," he said.

"Hound," said the green bot, his optics not leaving Bluestreak's. "I'm Hound."

"I'm so happy I found you," Bluestreak said, but those words didn't feel adequate to describe how he was actually feeling: the rapturous elation of finally finding what he didn't know he was missing his whole life.

"Same. Yeah, I feel the same," Hound said. "All morning I've been... I mean, I felt something that..." Bluestreak could feel him – his name was Hound! – fumbling for words, and he felt a surge of sympathy for him.

"Did you seriously just find out you have a resonant?" Smokescreen said. With an effort, Bluestreak peeled his gaze away from Hound to look at his friend. Smokescreen was smiling and shaking his head. "Only you would discover your sparkmate in the middle of a warzone."

The blue Vosian touched Smokescreen's shoulder. "Let's give them a little while to get acquainted," he said, and he winked at Hound.

"Thanks, Thundercracker," Hound said, not looking away from Bluestreak for a moment.

Bluestreak looked back at Hound, and was lost in his optics once more.

***

"You mentioned you had a shop here. What did you sell?"

"I'm a glass smith, and I sold the art I made, along with some other stuff."

"Art? Like what?"

"Oh, mostly glass pieces for decoration. You know, stuff like sparklers and window spinners, but I also did a lot of custom works for bots to have installed. Have you see those taillights some people have, with the internal prisims? I made those first, before they got really popular."

"Those were yours? That's amazing! They look so neat!"

"Thanks! I was pretty proud of them," Bluestreak said, and shifted closer to Hound. He was finally able to look away from his spark mate (wow, what a weird thing to think, that he had an actual spark resonant) at the bustle of bots working around them. After recovering from the initial shock of discovering each other, both Bluestreak and Hound wanted to help unload supplies or organize the medical queues – something to help the effort. But Smokescreen and Thundercracker (the Vosian who had been working with Hound) told them to sit and take a little time to get to know each other better, and Smokescreen offered to take Hound's place for a while. Neither Bluestreak nor Hound argued too loudly about that, since getting to work meant not touching each other.

Hound turned and looked at Bluestreak again. Every time he did that, he looked as though he was surprised to see him sitting there. "So, did you ever think you might have a resonant?" Hound asked.

"Sure, I thought about it," Bluestreak said. "Who hasn't? I've seen the same romances as everyone else. It's appealing, thinking you might have someone out there who's your perfect match." He rubbed his hand up Hound's arm, feeling the slight texture in his matte finish. They hadn't stopped touching each other ever since their first meeting; there was something about keeping that contact that made Bluestreak's spark sing even louder. He leaned into Hound's side as he kicked his pedes back and forth over the edge of the crate they were sitting on. "But resonants are so rare and so... I dunno, almost mythical, something that happened to other people, that it was more of a fun fantasy than thinking I might actually have one. Of course, I did eventually make a trip down to Greater Monoplex, just to see if I could feel anything. But aside from the excitement of being on a trip to a place I'd never been, I didn't feel anything odd. Maybe we just didn't get close enough or something."

Hound listened patiently as Bluestreak rambled on, waiting until Bluestreak finished before replying. "When did you go to Monoplex?"

"Oh... It must have been about thirty or forty quartexes ago." Bluestreak smiled. "I needed to save up for the trip."

"I was called to serve Primus about seventy quartexes ago. That was in Sentinel Prime's service, of course," Hound said. Hound's fingers curled around and under and through Bluestreak's as he talked, tangling and untangling their fingers over and over, just like he'd been doing since they first sat down. Hound smiled and shrugged. "I wanted to come to Praxus, eventually, just to see, but... Other things seemed to be more important. And like you said, resonants are so rare. I never once thought that I might actually have one."

"We were both so wrong," Bluestreak said. He flicked his sensor wings upwards as he added, "And hey, if you're in the Wing, just think! Since you've got a resonant, you might be the next Prime, and I could be your Protector!"  But as soon as the words left Bluestreak's vocalizer, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Even if he couldn't have sensed the horror and distress and do not want he was feeling from Hound's spark, the expression on Hound's face would have made him back up immediately. "Oh, Hound, it's just a joke. I'm joking! I'm sorry," he said, squeezing Hound's arm tighter. "I wouldn't know the first thing about being a Protector."

Hound nodded and relaxed, both in body and spark. "I can feel that now," Hound said. He smiled. "This is going to take some getting used to, especially as we get to know each other." He started twining his fingers around Bluestreak's again: over, under, through. "But I have no doubts about your ability to be a Protector. It's the thought of losing the current Prime that made me..." He shuddered in Bluestreak's embrace.

"Have you met him?" Bluestreak asked quietly. He remembered seeing the ceremonies and celebrations when the new Prime was selected by the Matrix. When Hound nodded, Bluestreak asked, "What's he like?"

"He is kind, and intelligent, and thoughtful," Hound said. "When you talk to him, you can tell that he really cares about every single bot on this planet, whether they believe he is the voice of Primus or not." Hound looked around the plaza and at all of the bots there: those of the Prime's Hand and Wing, and the survivors they had come to help. "This was all his doing. He wanted to make sure we rescued as many bots as possible from places where the Quintessons have been. Without his leadership, pulling together disparate forces from all over the planet, none of this would have happened."

"I hope I get to meet him some day," Bluestreak said.

Hound smiled at him, sending another swirl of joy through Bluestreak's spark. "Well, I'll need to report back to the Master of Songs when we return to Tyger Pax," Hound said. "After that, if you stick with me, I can definitely introduce you to Megatronus Prime."

Bluestreak leaned his head on Hound's shoulder, watching the bustling around them. "I'd like that," he said. "And I have every intention of staying by your side for as long as I live, now that I finally met you."

"Nothing would make me happier," Hound said softly.

THE END

Look for this fic's sequel in The Prime and His Protector, coming to AO3 sometime soon!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I'm so glad to read your tags on the Chris announcement (?), I didn't say anything publicly but I thought the same you thought.... like, who cares if it was fake? at the end it's still used to train the military to use real bombs which is gross .. that's the one fact about Chris that I've never really liked... his undeniable support to the USA army... it's just a big no. 😶

#chris evans #I'm glad he said something about this but also... I don't like that it was fake either like we're still using it to train people to #bomb and kill people you know? #sigh #oh celebrity politics #always disappointing #always a little gross because... hollywood

Yeah. Like, babe, that's terrible clarification. Do I feel a tiny bit better knowing it wasn't real instead of speculating that there's no way it was real but living in the unknown? Sure. Is all of that better feeling swept away by the fact that this is the clarification Chris gave and he didn't attach anything else to it like regret or perhaps giving information on what people can do to help get the actual, real, active bombs being dropped on Palestinians right now to stop? Yes. Do I wish he hadn't shaken hands with the president who's allowing the U.S. to fund a genocide and refuses to call it one? Yes. Do I wish he would use ASP to call attention to the intentional media misrepresentation and politicalization of Palestinians and this genocide as a whole? Yes. But he hasn't. I will not excuse that or wave it away. I'm allowed to be mad at him, even as a fan--especially as a fan, perhaps.

I do understand how the moniker of Captain America will follow him around for the rest of his life even though he no longer is, and Anthony Mackie now is, and how that plays into what he's expected to do and how he's viewed and his PR. It's similar to my interpretation of Steve Rogers, the character, and how he's always looked at, on the surface and by those whom it benefits, as this pure U.S. American with good ol' Republican values running through his red blood and reflected in his blue eyes and written across his white skin. But Steve isn't. The circumstances that Steve grew up in would make him much more liberal to me. His life experience. I don't think it's on the same level with Chris, not by any means, but I do think people (and Hollywood standards) expect him to be a certain way, and he allows that. And I think that Chris holds more of those expectations as personal values than Steve. Chris has always been pro-military in a way that doesn't sit well with my alignment. Whereas Steve sits well with my alignment of fuck shit up when it's not right, no matter who's telling him it's okay.

And I actually had someone bring this signing of a maybe-real-maybe-not-real bomb up a few weeks ago. I started to draft a response to it because it bothers me as well--it's one of the things that Chris has done that I hate. But, then, whether it was the same anon or not, I got a bunch more asks following the first that made it clear they were not actually looking to discuss anything or hear any of my thoughts on it. They were simply looking for drama, and I could not care less about that. I feel it may be worth interjecting here, though just because I sat down and thought about this and wrote it:

*I wrote this before he put out that weird statement, and before I knew if it was real or fake or what*

Did Chris sign an artillery shell in 2016?

Yes.

Do I agree with everything Chris has done?

No.

I have a parasocial relationship with him and quite a few characters of his, but I recognize that he's a human being that I do not actually know. He sometimes does things that I don't like or I outright hate. For example, shaking hands with Biden in the midst of an ongoing genocide. Biden has blood on his hands, as all presidents generally do, but also in an ongoing way. Blood is still actively being spilled, with nothing being done to stop it.

Now, I understand that the handshake was mostly a public relations thing, mostly for the purpose of celebrity endorsement in a how-do-you-do-fellow-kids way, trying to encourage young people to vote. And that is a good thing. Everyone who can vote should be voting, especially young people. But... does the voters he may or may not have encouraged outweigh the knowledge of shaking hands with someone who could stop this slaughter of Palestinians but hasn't? Personally, I don't think so.

It's easy to say I wouldn't do it. But I don't know if Chris chose that or if someone on his team did or if they [Chris, his PR, whoever] just didn't look at it like that. That's unknown. It still isn't my favorite--not by a long shot. It's the same with the artillery shell. It turned my stomach the first time I saw that, and it still gives me the ick. To put it lightly.

Again, I wish he hadn't done that. And who's to say, maybe he wasn't bothered by it, so he just did it. Maybe it did bother him, but he was around all these people who really wanted him to do it, so he did. The whole USO tour bothers me, generally, because while I am pro-veteran and giving them the support needed, I am anti-military and anti-war. So... it really fucking rubs me the wrong way. However, I understand it makes sense to make Captain America do that. Public relations. Whether or not Chris was eager and willing to do it, I won't know. Leading by the examples of most things he's done, I don't imagine he was thrilled, I don't imagine it didn't make him lose some sleep, but again, I don't know. He totally could have been excited to do it, too. Who knows. He's a person with complex understanding and thinking and the ability to choose to do things or not.

What I know is that, yes, I am biased toward him. But I don't know him. So, baseline, he did. If you're looking for permission to be angry at him or permission to sweep it under the rug from me, I will not give it to you. How you feel about actions some else takes is based on how it strikes you and your understanding of the world with your morals.

[mercyburned]

🌿 author portrait .

get to know the author behind the blog! repost, do not reblog.

basics .

name/nickname: lori age: 34. i am the mom friend. pronouns : she/her only, please years of writing : writing itself as an intentional act, probably since about age 10. but i've been conjuring up stories since around second or third grade.

reflection .

why did you pick up writing? like i said above, it's been my hobby for basically my entire life? i couldn't give you a reason. some people become artists, some people become musicians, i became a writer the same way i've become a teacher.

do you have any writing routines? by this point i really should, but i do not. i think i'll probably start setting myself realistic goals over the summer so that i don't fall as far behind next school year as i have over the past year. since i went back to college and everything after that ( fulltime jobs, grad school, moving, an actual career job ) i've really struggled with keeping my blog consistently active, and i think that damages my ability to interact and make new connections. so, i'd like to get back into feeling like a part of the community instead of just idling on the fringes of it.

what's your favorite part about writing? it's a huge creative release for me, and i think it's also helped me to process a lot of the things i've gone through in life. i don't think i'd be as mentally stable as i am if i hadn't poured all of my angst (tm) into writing early on and throughout the years when those things happened. but also, it's just very enjoyable for me to continue / explore the stories of characters i love in new ways. ventium said this too, but i also really like the social aspect of rp specifically. getting to talk excitedly about ideas and characters with someone else is what puts the bow on top for me.

three things you like about your writing. looking back at my old writing which is, regrettably, still online but mwahaha you'll never find it - i can see how much i've grown as a writer and how i've tried so many different ways to do the Writing Thing. i think i'm very good with worldbuilding and lore aspects of writing, but i think i can still improve on characterization and making sure each character has a unique voice. i have some extremely strong muses, like clare, who tend to bleed through into some other characters - though, for characters like kaeya, it sort of works. anyway, uh, yeah.

have you ever given up on writing? no, though i go through phases sometimes where i just don't have the writing mojo. but i've learned to show myself grace and not force it. whether i write every day or not doesn't change the fact that i'm a writer, and it doesn't mean i'm a bad rp partner if i take a break to tend to my offline life. my friendships don't expire and my threads don't either, soooo...

what is your greatest fear or worry as a writer? i don't think i have one. i used to stress SO MUCH about being perfect but maybe i've just gotten older and i don't see it that way anymore? i've had rp blogs with 2k+ followers and rp blogs with less than 100. the same 10 people interacted with me on either of them, so i don't even notice my follower count anymore. i'm not super stressed about my characterization ( even though i know it can always improve ) and i know my worldbuilding is good. i guess the only thing that i sometimes think about is that my activity is very low, which, like i said earlier, makes it difficult to form and maintain connections in the rpc. but i appreciate the people who understand that my offline life is very demanding and takes like 90% of my mental energy each day. not really worried about the rest tbh !

a question for the next person .

write a question for the next person to answer. once you've answered it, leave a new question for someone else to answer.

next question: if you could give advice to someone just beginning their foray into writing, what three things would you tell them?

tagging: @cybrvce, @papilio-anima, @literanis, @armatization and you! tagged by: i stole it from @apocryphis.

[numinous-scribe]

hi so this isn't meant to be mean at all! but um, pit madness isn't...a thing. like, at all. the only cases that can be made for it is characters like ra's, who had prolonged exposure to it, but characters that have been dipped just once (jason, cass, damian, etc) aren't mentally affected by the pit in canon at all. at least during post-crisis, jason didn't Have a rule about not hurting kids—that was not his version of bruce's no-kill rule, it wasn't a hard rule of any sorts. he was an asshole. that was his whole character after he came back during post-crisis, until the n52 reinvented him (and the n52 decanonized all he did after he came back. so it didn't change what he did and why he did it, and since we're now in a hellscape where everything is canon, his motivations (is an asshole that chose to take out his daddy issues on a kid) are still the same they were back then, nothing changed.) he also mocked, kidnapped and blew up the school of a teenage csa survivor BECAUSE he was an asshole, so if he had any sort of "rule", it was one he made many exceptions for.

also, ra's had no interest in tim until red robin, he didn't gaf about tim back then past him being another one of bruce's robins. talia didn't influence jason's decisions; she was struggling to keep that guy in line during lost days.

this isn't saying you can't like jason—hell, i love him. but he did all that shit because he wanted to. he chose to do it, and sure he wouldn't have made them if he hadn't died and come back angry and hurt and struggling, but he did. and pit madness or saying talia made him/manipulated him to do it (which i think plays into the racist stereotype surrounding talia, but i digress) feels like absolving him of all wrongdoing for his own actions.

once again, saying all this in good faith, but it gets sort of annoying watching people make it seem lile jason didn't CHOOSE to be an asshole. for a while, he was just an asshole.

Fam. I get you're saying that you came here with good intentions, but all I'm seeing is you jumping in my inbox to "um, actually" me, which is, quite frankly, rude and unappreciated. No one likes to get "um, actually"ed. Especially over personal interpretations of things.

What all this really tells me is that you put on some selective reading glasses and chose to take offense to my tags in particular on a post that *checks notes* was initially about Tim having no obligation to forgive and forget Jason being an asshole to him. Which, fair. Point to that. But then the addition to the post was about *checks notes again* how the writing for Jason's comeback was all over the place, skewed, and completely dissonant with how his character was before. But the add on also offered some nice perspective on why people liked to use pit madness as a plot device (which, frankly, there has been other instances outside of Ra's displaying it. i.e. the first person dunked in the pits literally came out made and killed Ra's wife. It's just DC can never expand on the little bits of lore they drop surrounding this without either completely forgetting it or retconning it.)

But back to the point. Which was that people like the concept that pit madness brings to the table. They like using it as a means of explaining the shitty writing of "canon". Do some people over do it and use it to absolve him of all his sins without consequences? Yeah, and it's not great, but it's whatever. And I never said that I want it to absolve him of being an asshole. I said I liked it being A factor to skew his thoughts. The can also apply to other concepts that I toyed with in my tags.

Can Jason still be an ass just to be an ass? Yeah. He can. But I'm not here to explore canon's desperate fixation on toxic grimdark bullshit. And you can't say in one breath that something is canon, but then in the next say that canon is a hellscape where nothing makes sense. That's contradictory. You get how that's contradictory, right? Canon doesn't even know what's canon, plan and simple, that's why so many people disregard it in the first place!

I could go out and pull up receipts to counter a bunch of other things, but frankly, I don't need to keep justifying how and why I play around with ideas and concepts. So please, next time you feel the need to come into someone's inbox to "correct" them. Don't. You just make an ass of yourself.

[ervona]

I was tagged by @nuwanders @wispstalk @profanetools @ghoulsbeard @aphoticfairy whew!!! thank you :D

now tagging @scuttling-void @morgiah @trinimac @libertineangel @kagrenacs + anyone who wants to, tried to see who already did it!

this tag game is about writing excerpts and I'll be taking them from my tes fest 23 fics, since they're new and I like how they turned out

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

“You tell me, with the way you went up, I suppose you’re a trained acrobat.” At least he had put away the knife, though the suspicion was going to be a harder bargain, no thanks to his own conduct. “I am an ordinary mortal, so springy for I was born in springtime.” (Day 4)

I hadn't put grown up Tredayn to paper before so I hoped to deliver his personality, and a bit of his parents' memorable characteristics. being bad at hiding his intentions and hitting you with such a dumb line somewhat nervously is perfect. also since the brothers are from Morrowind they must carry the burden of the game mechanic jokes. the following line about his birthday isn't as funny to me, it's moreso where the comedic tension between them falls. it's sad at that point

A line from your fic that makes you sad

The sky would take on each color of bruise soon enough, and having had her meal of scrib jerky she could only sit in silence with the offerings, wringing her hands with faint scratches left on them until it was time to conduct the ritual, perhaps on her own. There was no sorrow in that, for it made her holy bond even more special. (Day 2)

I tend to write characters who are very social, but faced with bouts and longer periods of soul-draining loneliness... Aranea is relatively comfortable up on her mountain compared to them, still the story here is a deep well of loneliness surrounded by joy and celebration. Aranea is beloved by her community but she could not truly be part of it. she never had much of a community around her as a sorceress before becoming a priestess, and she literally sees herself as too far gone now and more suited to stay a hermit dedicated to only Azura

A line from your fic you're proud of

Ancient bones distorted as in a dream were stuck in the glacial gullet of Hsaarik; less ancient ones lay half-buried in the snowdrift. Deep below the lights of the city, falling prey to something sharp was far too easy, but the fog of breath held no fear. She took the hand offered to her aglow in purpureal light and her step became lighter still, they could skip across the water like stones. (Day 1)

my first published tesfest entry, my beloved. I'm very fond of this bit because I have trouble visualizing and describing things, but it's still very lush to me, it conjures up such a magical feeling and makes me happy. it simply conveys the warmth between them in the eerie cold

A line for your fic you think could have been better

The king was dead. He was not the first Nordic tyrant to burn, though he was one of the few living–or unliving–men to receive such a simplified Dunmeri funeral. His killer wasn’t quite living either, but one was ash scattered over the sea, and the other was just floating face-down among the ice floes; a twist on the usual Morndas. (Day 4)

the goal here was as usual double meaning because he was already un/dead before being killed and it's me messing with how language around vampires has been used in the series. so the killer is another vampire, a Dunmer, burning an already dead man... a simple funeral without anything else it should contain. it reads so awkwardly and I don't hate it as much anymore but I wish it was a bit more refined...

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

She nibbled on a wickwheat biscuit as Uncle seemed to continue what he’d been talking about, his newly established netch ranch, the fine leather it brought, and she bit her tongue in frustration. Him and his blood-stained netch leather and the yoke that pulled lives and souls asunder.  (Day 7)

the secret sauce here that genuinely makes me angry was my own exasperation at many people around me. it just works like a charm!

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

She hiccuped, and more than ever looked a mirror image of the bearling he found in the snow so long ago as if yesterday. A century could pass and she remained his baby, and he remained sworn to all ancestors and itinerant spirits to care for her. And she was shaking with worry, each tear reflecting a star. He wanted to cry with her too, even if it stained his spectacles. (Day 3)

beloved by readers, and so true. this whole story is full of moments that qualified so close here, so I picked out one. Llether is adorable, Merry even more so, and their relationship means so much to me :')

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

Father ate rather delicately to not stain his bead-woven beard and mustache, and his younger brother followed the lead, though prior stabbing his cooked ornada without grace. The knife he sliced with, dueling the carapace, was as her cutlery gilt and engraved to go along with the ebony plating. Overhead the chandelier of green glass hung as a sword pointed at them, a thousand shimmering blades. (Day 7)

sword of dadmocles real. you have a sort of chain action going from Vedam to Orvas to Ilmeni and even as she doesn't describe her own eating habits, she is not perfectly self aware but she's also not right when portraying them in her mind as being in different worlds... the air of violence between them is at its highest in this moment though clearly restrained and some being less restrained than others. whew

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

She strode on the lookout for fish, drinking in the horizon that would at some point give way to the nascent sun.  In that direction, a once mighty craft cracked in twain on long since melted ice, since then picked clean by beasts and priests. They’d searched it up and down already, finding what they sought and the years had gone by until it was of little interest but a grim omen.  (Day 1)

they're north of Winterhold, east of it lies the Pride of Tel Vos which unfortunately was shipwrecked even in the au. I deliberated long on how to introduce Brand-Shei and whether to introduce Hidrya Olen. ended up going with neither, because I didn't get how and when she claimed the journal but she probably got on the ship to flee from the war. Brand-Shei is not identified beyond this and some clues at this point he's uncertain of himself on all terms. calling him by either of his known names didn't feel right for me, for him or for Merry here

A line from your fic that's shocking

One ought to know that a nix-hound was no match for a kagouti, such a spindly thing in comparison. But when a pack of nixes descended together, they could best the mightiest kagouti and leave nothing but bones. All creatures wished to survive, and some of them even wove secret arts through intricate magics to further lengthen their lives, but that didn’t necessarily keep them safe from harm. The tower would outlive its maker, and in turn make good use of him. (Day 5)

local mer harvested for his daedric armor. to be frank I find a lot of this tepid acceptance around Divayth Fyr to be annoying, and the insistence that nothing could have possibly killed him, so he's still alive. how about four of him unionizing against him, like it's hard... really the point of this story's introduction is for one to recognize a character with a big reputation then witness him casually killed off

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.” (Day 6)

Ervona Ules :) that's who I named myself after, I had adopted little Mavus at that point. the whole conversation between them is very telling of both characters but this refered to our primary source on Ervona, her student Melar Sadus. she was an interesting noble mer who fought against injustice and met a tragic end from it, Mavus is someone who may bring her legacy back. but will he? she definitely inspired him to grow beyond his comfort zone and listening to what his mother and mentor tell him. this is the heart of the prompt to me and I wanted to write it ever since I put Bound in a Bouquet out here, the older Mavus you see there is a product of the events in this story and of course Morrowind that happens in between. you'll see more...

[mariam246810]

i believe in genshin and klint friendship supremacy (as shown in numerous amounts of your art) i also just love your art so much! its so much good content with representation of these underrated characters, (along with others like yuujin, jigoku, etc) you should tag the character names in your posts so its easier to find your art! it'll help your art get more recognition

anyways gushing aside, how do you suppose klint and genshin react to kazuma and ryunosuke being friends during the whole events of Resolve? and all friendship, angst, all the fun stuff

Thank you very much , glad you enjoied my art and depiction of these charecters.

I used to tag characters' names before but I stopped because my art kept appearing at the beginning of google searches which I hated (though that was before the game was localized so maybe since more English-speaking fans are here now my art won't appear as much. Maybe I'll try to add their names in the next few posts and see what happens )

(i can't say that I've ever really thought so deeply about Ryuu's and Kazuma's friendship so sorry if this was surface level)

So before I start talking about klimt's and genshin's reaction to the two I want to make a few things in the timeline of my ghost klimt and genshin au clear.

-after genshin's death both genshin and klimt were in England for like a month.

-when miko and jigoku left,ghost genshin left with them (looking after karuma which was in mikotoba's care for the time being)

-when they arrived to japan genshin started looking after his son and wife -who followed him soon after- while klimt looked after his brother and doughter in England for like the next few years

-kazuma was a social person so ryuu to genshin seemed like any freind of kazuma's until...

- during the 1-2 incident genshin knew kazuma wasn't dead because well, he hadn't become a ghost. He had to decide on whether to look after karuma or his son. He chose kazuma of course and was with him during all that time that he suffered from memory loss .

-on the other hand ,klimt during 1-3 recognized the katana on ryuu's side but neither genshin nor his son was there. he investigated a bit and he was able to put a few pieces together. Genshin's son was a friend of ryuu but he died on the ship.

-it wasn't until vortex introduced the masked disciple to barok that Klimt and genshin met again after almost 10 years. They filled each other in the information the other didn't know. (I drew a comic of their meeting but I think I've never shared it here

(i dont remember wether kazuma intented to harm gregeson or not. Either way, genshin can't read his mind he only sees his actions and hears the words he says, and well to him it seemed like his son was about to commit murder )

-during the final cutscene in 2-3 genshin was happy to see his son regain his memories back. But that also meant that he now remembers his mission

- during the last cutscene where kazuma and ryuu crossed their swords

[dummerjan]

9 people you would like to get to know better

Thank you @lady-guts for tagging me! <333

1. 3 ships: Let's go with ones not (anymore) present on my tumblr: Thoman/Jimmy from Downton Abbey

They were my first tumblr fandom and what got me into reading fanfiction for good. Some of the most memorable fics I've read are Thommy ones. So much wasted potential!

Mickey/Ian from Shameless US

It's been some years and I never caught up with their storyline in the final seasons but they had quite the hold on me.

Christian/Syed from Eastenders

I loved them so much. There might be some videos floating around YouTube with subs I (probably badly) translated into German if copyright strikes didn't get to them. But I hated their ending so much that some years later I was surprised to find out they hadn't actually died in some gruesome way which so many soap characters do but just moved to the US.

2. first ever ship: I couldn't say, there've been too many, and what constitutes as a proper ship? Perhaps one of the many soap opera couples I was obsessed with but even then I couldn't tell anymore which came first.

3. last song:

I came across it in my YouTube recommendations this evening and I quite like it, though it mainly caught my attention due to the very apparent debuccalization of s.

4. last movie: Two and One with Paolo Pangilinan from Gaya Sa Pelikula. Plotwise it fits the synopsis but also wasn't quite what I had imagined. I liked it but I haven't really dwelled on it and formed a proper opinion (yet).

5. currently reading: Nothing to be honest, not even fanfic. I have two books lying around with the intention of continuing to read them. I just about manage to keep up with fanfic updates, never mind starting new stories.

6. currently watching: I started rewatching (parts) of The Eclipse this evening. I am mainly after the Ayan/Akk scenes. I am also keeping up with Only Friends and My Personal Weatherman. And last week I started Okaeri Mone and, while I have only made a tiny dent in its 120 episodes so far, I am finding it to be utterly delightful and comforting in a way only Japan manages.

7. currently consuming: Food? Nothing. Last thing I had was a bar of my favourite chocolate.

8. currently craving: Murder. Bloodshed. Revenge. My asshole neighbour slammed his door as loudly as possible at 1 o'clock and I am out for blood. Or maybe I will destroy his door. Then he can't slam it either. Sleep would also be nice. But now I am too angry for that and plotting revenge. tagging @sorry-bonebag – Let's pretend you are 9 people in a trenchcoat. Always delighted to get tagged but tagging other people is excruciating, what if they find it annyoing?!

[late-to-the-fandom]

I posted 2,812 times in 2022

That's 2,812 more posts than 2021!

312 posts created (11%)

2,500 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shipping-through-eternity

@velvethopewrites

@zmwrites

@akindplace

@writingpotato07

I tagged 474 of my posts in 2022

#renathal x maw walker - 169 posts

#my writing - 157 posts

#writing games - 140 posts

#ask games - 126 posts

#fanfiction - 68 posts

#prince renathal - 53 posts

#tag games - 47 posts

#spotify - 29 posts

#writing - 29 posts

#31 days of halloween playlist - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#i'd give anything to be a mage irl so i could just conjure up some mana thing and never have to think about food again

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I hope its ok to send asks, but for some reason i don't quite think the op of the xymox and painsmith post is coming to the discussion in good faith. They just seem needlessly mean about it. for some reason ppl find it hard to get their head around the fact that not everyone likes conventionally attractive characters. I really am not a fan of such dunking on people over fictional characters paraded around as humor. Especially ones that barely have any content as is.

Like yeah xymox is a bit out of there, but there's a lot of people who like robots like A LOT.

So I’m not the OP of that post, and I’m also terrible at reading context and intentions. All I can say is I for one didn’t take it as demeaning, just funny and I certainly hope my comments didn’t sound demeaning to anyone who finds either of those beings attractive. I knew the Painsmith had stans, but Xymox was a new one on me.

But I will also say that as someone who is almost always in the same boat of “finding the random dude with no art attached to them attractive” I feel the pain of that situation. I’ve spent many a sleepless night trolling the far corners of the internet for Grandmaster Vole art and was sadly disappointed 😂

20 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

#4

Glad we mapped this out

21 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

#3

Heads Up 7 Up

Tagged by the ever sweet @writingpotato07

Tagging: @velvethopewrites @shipping-through-eternity @diaryofomellas @mousterian-writes @kyofsonder @lady-grace-pens and open tag

7 lines from Eternity which should be posted in two weeks (as the writing god allows).

Renathal, hovering restlessly by the door, did his best to swallow his rising panic. If she was truly ended, surely the healers would display more concern?

As it was, the Sin'Dorei was pulling several large books from his bag and laying them on the bedside table one at a time, while the other, smaller creature hoisted itself onto the bed and sat comfortably on the edge. It hadn't stopped talking the entire way to the room, a fact the other healer endured with an expression of longsuffering. Neither seemed in any rush to even glance at the Maw Walker’s unnaturally still figure.

After minutes that stretched like eternity, Renathal could contain himself no longer.

‘I certainly don't mean to tell you how to do your work, but...  do you intend to heal her anytime soon?’

25 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

#2

Incorrect Quotes!

Tagged by the ever sweet @writingpotato07

Rules: use this quote generator & list as many quotes as you like using characters from your WIPs, then tag as many people as quotes you listed.

Tagging: @crunchypuff125, @scourge-lover, @velvethopewrites

Pretty sure each of these is a direct quote from my Renathal/Maw Walker series. It’s actually spooky how dead on this is.

Maw Walker: What’s up? I’m back.  Renathal: I literally saw you die. You died. You were dead  Maw Walker: Death is a social construct.

----

Renathal: Truth or dare?  Maw Walker: Truth.  Renathal: How many hours have you slept this week?  Maw Walker:  Maw Walker: Dare.  Renathal: Go to sleep.  Maw Walker: I don't like this game.

----

Renathal: Are you ready to commit?  Maw Walker: Like, a crime or a relationship?

----

41 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

131 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

No surprises here 😂

[midorimochi]

These days I think I'll have the time to watch at least the first two chapters of a NDRV3 gameplay. I want to watch juicedup14's gameplay in particular, because it's not the localized version but rather a direct translation from the original.

I think it's interesting to compare the differences elapsing between the localization and the translation but I also can't shake off the impression that most of the negativity I saw being directed towards Kaito here (accusations of "toxic masculinity" aside - which is: for "masculinity", undeniable, because Kaito does hold sexist views, for "toxic", in my humble opinion at least, over the top and exaggerated) is incredibly biased and out of place. 

Anyone who played/watched the gameplays of this game, should know or should have realized that at heart Kaito is not a mean and/or a bad guy, he’s well-intentioned, but the way he conveys and/or exhibits his own behavior at times, perhaps, can raise some questions about his methods.

What I mean is that in real life nobody is and nobody can be perfect and if fictional characters are supposed to reproduce different kinds of real, existing people in the first place, then fictional characters - to be credible - can’t be perfect either. That being said, (it should be obvious...) I personally think it’s fair for any character to have flaws of their own.

Some of these possible flaws can certainly be more questionable or complex to grasp than others can be but the fact is, that there should often be some reasons due to which, the character’s personality, upbringing and backstory can or could explain why a certain character does, thinks or says what they do, think or say respectively.

In Kaito’s case, for example, we have this guy who exhibits a macho behavior and a “macho man” is typically defined as “a man who is aggressively proud of his masculinity” which is definitely Kaito’s case.

While it’s NOT a justification, but rather an explanation, is that people also seem to forget pretty often that this guy was raised by his grandparents, people two generations ahead of him which, very likely, could have passed these old views onto him pretty easily, since he was a child.

Hence why he seems to hold very traditional views on gender roles especially, hence why he’s considered “sexist”: people think about the infamous “I don’t feel weapons suit women” line especially, and what upsets people the most - although reasonably - is the fact that he’s never called out on it (even if, in his defense, - for the way they phrased it in the localization, at least - his it’s a pretty relative sentence to be fair, because saying “I don’t feel weapon suit women” is not like saying “Weapons don’t suit women”. It sounds expressed more like a personal opinion rather than as an absolute fact and/or statement (his sexism isn’t severe for how I see it because it’s not like he attacks people over it or he’s malicious towards the girls) and even if it’s a questionable opinion, you can’t expect everybody to embrace the same mindset in real life either. Not to mention that the situation itself kinda mocks him and makes his own statement especially ironic since during their training sessions, it’s clear that Maki is stronger than both him and Shuuichi).

The fact is (unpopular opinion I guess) that I personally don’t believe his masculinity is really “toxic” because he himself isn’t completely able to abide by it, neither.

If he was sexist to the point of being “toxic”, would he have approved Kaede’s leadership? Would he have accepted to support a girl’s guidance? Would he have looked for Tenko’s and the other girls’ help against Monokuma in the first chapter? Would he have acknowledged that just by looking at Maki he somehow could tell that she was capable to fight? Would he have accepted to use Miu’s inventions? 

Because if he really was (and I even seen people claiming that he’s a mysogynist, what the fuck) I believe he would have belittled all of them and their talents, but did he?

The way he interacts with Kaede in particular is telling, because while he chooses to take Shuuichi and Maki under his wing as his sidekicks, he proposes to be Kaede’s sidekick after having said that they’re at the same weave-length, that they think alike almost as if with Kaede, his relationship could have been a relationship with an equal, if not as he himself suggested, with one to support as a sidekick instead of a boss.

He punches Shuuichi because of him not being “manly enough” to carry on Kaede’s wish, whilist crying himself when both previously and later he reprimands Gonta for the same reason because “men shouldn’t cry”, “men shouldn’t apologize” yet, he does cry, twice: at that same moment after Kaede’s execution and after the third trial along with everybody else, but at that moment we don’t see him reprimanding the other boys because “crying isn’t manly”, he does understand the situation at hand and that type of reaction, especially in that context, is inevitable.

He also apologizes to Shuuichi for his own behavior at the end of the fifth trial in which he acknowledges to be at fault and he also admits to have harbored a certain envy for Shuuichi.

I think that moment was really important to establish his character because Kaito found the courage to do what he didn’t believe it was the case to do. He apologizes despite previously having said that as a man he shouldn’t have, he stops lying, he confesses the truth about his health and he drops his “perfect big bro” mask, because he’s far from being perfect, he genuinely did want to help and to assist Shuuichi but he didn’t do so with no conflicting feelings whatsoever because deep down, he also grew envious of him in the meantime. He wanted to be the one who saved everyone while also “saving” his sidekicks, he aimed high, but he aimed too high even for himself.

He tells Shuuichi he can’t do everything by himself, yet he wished he could.

Until the end of the fifth trial, Kaito hasn’t been completely straightforward with his sidekicks and he also kept on feeding his own pride whilist he was “nurturing” Shuuichi and Maki because while he genuinely wanted to help them (he always thought about them and how to improve their training, he always sided with them in the trials and such, I mean, his good intentions and the positive influence he had on both of them are undeniable), having two people to take care of was also a responsability he liked to take because it also fed his own self-esteem as the “Luminary of the Stars” who can make the impossible, possible.

He saw these two outcasts and he dragged them with him (granted, they did choose to follow him by their own volition, as well) so they could realize their mistakes and become stronger, these two perhaps wouldn’t even have befriended each other in the first place if it wasn’t for him, yet they become pretty close at the end. 

He wanted them to see him as a point person, yet he didn’t do the same for them, he was strictly careful not to show any weakness whatsoever in front of them because for someone like him it wasn’t allowed (I really liked how one of his Space Mode Events tackled this).

I’ve also seen people calling Kaito a “hypocrite” because he scolded people over things he himself did. Not only he does cry unlike he’d think he shouldn’t be supposed to as a “man”, but he also hides secrets (his disease) from his sidekicks, unlike he wanted them to do with him.

Which yes, it does come across as hypocrite attitude but I also think it stems from Kaito being pretty self-centered and stubborn as well. This guy has his own set of beliefs for which he feels very strongly, so strongly he’s sure to be always right no matter what.

That’s what pisses him off the most after the fourth trial, he’s proven wrong and what does he do? He takes it on Shuuichi who only did what he had to do in order for him and for everyone else to survive.

It’s not that Kaito has it on him for it, thinking about it I also believe that he did understand but he didn’t want to admit and/or to accept it, because it would have meant that he was wrong but for how he has probably been accostumed for a very long time - I presume - him being wrong was impossible, that type of impossible he would have never wanted to be possible.

But by instinct he took it on Shuuichi because that was probably the first thing he thought he could do to unleash his annoyance which is pretty childish, all things considered.

Like Kokichi put it, it was thanks to Kaito that Shuuichi found the confidence to seek the truth as a detective, it was because of him, but this truth, this time, was so harsh for him to process that he didn’t want to face it until the end, he preached bravery and guts yet he’s been coward himself.

Kaito can be stubborn, he can have a childish attitude at times, he’d also seem to be biased on his relationships as well, because like he chose Shuuichi and Maki he could have lended a hand to other people who would have needed it too, perhaps (but I blame it more on the way his character was handled in the story from the outside - I mean the way the stuff decided to use him - that on him as a character) he is full of flaws objectively speaking and that’s fair because at the end that’s what makes him more human, more credible, even more likeable.

All of this was to say that despite his own flaws, when it’s the case, this guy is perfectly capable (even if begrudgingly so and not without taking some time on his part) to recognize and acknowledge his mistakes and to apologize for them, as well. 

That’s why, as I’ve seen other people say, he’d likely drop his most questionable attitudes if people around him took the time, the effort and the patience to make him understand that the ways he preaches masculinity and gender roles can be harmful.

I had no intention to write all of this to begin with, because I only wanted to say that I’m looking forward to see if Kaito really sounds that different in the translation of the original version in comparison to how he’s depicted in the localization, but I picked this opportunity to get all of my thoughts off my chest... 

[mostlymaudlin]

fanfic writer challenge!

instructions:

list & explain the three lines/moments from canon that are most fundamental to how you write your fave character

challenge 3 more fic writers to do the same!

ok i did this for carry on but im doing a separate one for aftg <3 because its fun

it is surprising to no one, but my fave character to write is andrew :) and i gotta put this puppy under a read more because i wrote way too much. i have [clenches fist] SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT ANDREW MINYARD !!!

but first, ill tag: @sillyunicorn @starwarned @takitalks @rainbow-0bsidian @pipedream-darling @otherworldsivelivedin @mrskrementz @fortheloveofexy @seasy33 @jostenminyard

(doing more than three to get the ball rolling lol)

Andrew's smile vanished when the elevator started its slow crawl down. Neil returned his stare, every muscle tensed for a fight. At the fifth floor, Andrew pushed away from the back railing and started for Neil. He reached for Neil's keys, but Neil moved the ring out of reach. Andrew tried again, and Neil had to step back to dodge his grab. He backed right into the metal doors and realized a moment too late Andrew didn't care about his keys at all. He buried the ring in his pocket, feeling pinned in. How stupid, that someone so short could have such a presence. -- (The Foxhole Court, Chapter 2)

ok, a long one to start, but important ! one of the reasons i love writing andrew is because of the way hes fucking nuts. and as someone who is also nuts, this is pleasing to me. and let me make this point without using silly euphemisms: mania is a state in which a person is heightened, but they are still fundamentally themselves. their thoughts are not limited by silly things like filters or predicting consequences. it is impulse and pleasure-chasing. so! when i look at andrew, who is supposedly on some whacked out fake drug that induces mania, i think about how his actions that could be brushed off as "he's just high" actually reflect an andrew without inhibitions. this is especially helpful when looking at andrew in TKM, when he becomes incredibly difficult to read.

this scene is the reverse, though, and that's why it's important to me. andrew is not on his medicine here, but he's not Mr. Repressed either. this is an in-between, where he's choosing to let some of himself shine through (mostly with the intention of freaking out neil, lol). and it's great, because andrew shows us a few big things:

he reads & understands people SO well, even if he rarely caters to their needs. the fact that he goes for neil's keys on day 1 to draw a reaction is like... yep. you got him lol.

he is willing to take drastic measures in the name of.... well, at this point in the story we're not sure, but soon we'll see that its to protect his people

he's crazy???? lol. i just think andrew's dialogue in tfc/trk in his brief unmedicated moments (and even his manic ones!) are so indicative of how andrew thinks. he's so fucking weird. in this scene, he follows his cornering act with "How nice to meet you, Neil," Andrew drawled. that's so weird!! he's weird. his brain is silly and clever and quick. This bit and others like it are the foundation on which ive built my version of his POV.

now, speaking of andrew's brain --

Andrew stared stone-faced back at him. Neil would have assumed it a silent rejection of Neil's veiled accusations if Andrew's hand hadn't frozen midair between them. -- (The King's Men, Chapter 11)

let's set the scene. immediately before this, neil has suggested they go on spring break, implied that there was a this, then hit andrew with his "And I am nothing" / "And as you've always said, you want nothing."

so like. andrew just got punched in the gut approximately six times in under a minute. poor guy. when neil prompts him back into action, he first threatens to kill neil, and then kisses the shit out of him. squeeee, ROMANCE!!!

when i look at this scene, i think of that first quote i pulled. i think of andrews silly and clever and quick brain, and about how much work he does to keep his mask on. there are plenty of times his mask cracks, but this one is the most fun because he is so clearly being overwhelmed by FEELINGS. he is confused by neil, irritated with him for bringing up all these things that andrew long ago decided didn't matter, and furious with himself for wanting it all too. he has to freeze so that none of that slips out of his mouth or onto his face. when he recovers, he deflects thru being mean (which is useless against neil, but still a satisfying way to blow off some steam) and then kissing him :) because really, that's what it all boils down to: andrew wants neil so bad it makes him want to murder him.

and look at this, a nice transition to the final scene!

"Rumor has it I'm pretty interesting."

"Don't believe everything you hear."

Neil ignored that dismissal because Andrew was already pulling him down again. They kissed until Neil felt dizzy, until he wasn't sure he could hold himself up anymore, and then Andrew pulled Neil's hand off the beanbag chair. He held it up and away from them for an eternity, then slowly pressed it flat against his chest and let go. Andrew tensed up under Neil's hand but relaxed before Neil could pull away. --(The Kings Men, Chapter 15) (The second Chapter 15) (Because thats something we have to clarify in these dumbass books)

oh my GOD. has a scene ever scened like this scene scened. has a touch ever meant so much. has a character ever tried this hard. ok, once we've all finished banging our heads against the wall and screaming, let's review:

andrew wants neil so bad it makes him want to murder him. but andrew also wants neil so bad that it makes him want to TRY. im actually going to take this apart bit by bit because if for some reason you're still reading this madness, i think you'll appreciate the detail LOL.

ok, first: before this paragraph, neil confronts andrew again with the gravity of their relationship, and andrew plays his usual game of deflecting and bullying. that doesnt work (andrew, has that EVER worked???***) so of course the next action is kissing.

and kissing and kissing and kissing.

and somewhere in all this kissing that is so good that neil is dizzy, something in andrew says: i want more. he takes neil's hand, maybe on impulse, and has to stop to think about what he's going to do. and then he tries to give: he places neil's hand on his chest, LETS GO, and then relaxes under his touch.

its hard to tell how much of this was impulse and how much was thought through. im willing to bet it was mostly impulse, especially because andrew doesnt hit neil with a "i never do anything i dont want to do" when neil acknowledges that this is probably something theyre not ready for. (instead, andrew reacts by deflecting/bullying -- "One hundred and one" -- and then more kissing. so predictable!).

but still! it says so much. it says that he wants and wants and wants, he dreams about things he thinks he'll never have. and neil keeps trying to prove him wrong, and andrew wants to believe him so badly, wants to SHOW neil that he's starting to believe him. scream!!! andrew invented romance. he put neils hand on his chest and LET GO. he said: "look. im trying. i want this too, even if i cant even think the words." he said: "i want to figure out how to trust you."

because underneath it all, i believe andrew is a deeply hopeful creature, and that is the thing he hates most about himself. he wants a home, he wants a family, he wants to belong -- and it makes him feel so fucking foolish. its easier to wrap these wants up in duties and protections, concrete and emotionless things. but neil never actually wanted andrew's protection, yet he still wants andrew more than anyone ever has before. thats fuckin earth-shattering. theres only so much deflecting and bullying and kissing you can do before some of that deeply buried hope claws its way out.

SO YEAH i really didnt need to do all that but i did. if youre still reading then like LOL youre a trooper hope u enjoyed the 2AM Nerd Rory show. but i think about andrew a lot (obviously) and hes such a difficult character to write, so returning to scenes like these three really help ground me in the version of him that lives in my head. so that i can put him in situations :)

***actually wait i just remembered one time where the bullying/deflecting worked, so here's a bonus. in ch 10, the make it to finals and have a party at abbys. andrew and neil are outside, and neil is frustrated with andrews apathy -- "Would it kill you to let something in?" / "It almost did last time." -- and then also starts talking oh so earnestly about how andrew could be court if he'd just TRY. andrew, obviously, gets mad and asks Neil if hes capable of talking about anything other than Exy. which actually hurts neil's feelings, because neil just really likes talking to andrew about exy (the thing hes most passionate about) & deeply values his opinions, and hes upset by the implication that they dont actually have this in common.

and like, you could read this as andrew just being sick of talking about exy lol. but i see it as part of the pattern. andrew is triggered, first of all. and then neil is being a little too earnest about the future and andrew, talk to me. and andrew's fucking overwhelmed !!! he does not know what to do with this! so: lash out. hit neil where it hurts. deflect and bully.

[deoxyrebornucleic]

Actually, I know what I'm going to use this blog for.

Howdy, call me Yoshi. Around 2 years ago now, I ran a Monster Prom writing blog called damien-lavey-is-a-power-bottom. I wrote NSFW fanfictions and headcanons about Monster Prom characters on this blog, and when I deleted it I had over 600 followers, one of whom was a writer on the Monster Prom team.

The Monster Prom fandom was the kindest, most respectful fandom I ever took part in. I love the community and the devs, and I hope everyone reading this post understands my intentions in coming forward with this.

First off, I have a confession to make. I started the Monster Prom blog at 15 years old. The first NSFW post was made when I was 16, and I continued writing for around a year and a half, deleting the blog when I was 17.

I lied about my age multiple times because I knew what I was doing was wrong and that I could get people in trouble. I deeply apologize for what I did. I was hypersexualizing myself through my writing as a trauma response, but even so, what I did was not okay by any means. I am not mentioning my trauma as a means to guilt trip, but as a means to explain what was going through my head and why I chose to ignore the harm I could do.

What I did was wrong, I understand and accept that, and I apologize to anyone I could have possibly hurt. But that isn't the only thing I want to come forward about.

When I was 16 years old, the user @/theotakufairy, also known as Mari, reached out to me via DM's and we began roleplaying sexually explicit content between our OC's and various Monster Prom characters. Mari was 19, turning 20. I remember drawing a picture of her and the character Damien LaVey holding hands as a birthday present.

This continued for around a year and a half. I did not come clean to her about my real age until after I deleted the blog and she found me on Discord. These are the messages I sent her.

I was under the impression that Mari thought I was an adult all this time.

I was wrong.

Mari clearly states that she knew I was a minor and continued to write nsfw things with me, and that she has done the same thing with other minors.

She justified her behavior by saying that I was 17, and not a baby, but it had begun when I was 16 and she knew that. She also said that other minors were doing far more NSFW things than me and made me feel safe, as though I hadn't done anything wrong.

Let me be clear; I absolutely did something wrong. I invaded adult NSFW spaces as a minor and not only was that wrong on a moral level, it was also dangerous for me and everyone I interacted with.

The Monster Prom blog is now deleted and I have no record of our conversations in those DM's, but I do have messages from her on my personal blog dating back to August of 2019. I was 16 at the time and we had already been chatting and roleplaying for a few months.

I fully admit that what I did was wrong and that I put myself in a dangerous place, but Mari knew everything and continued to take advantage of me as a vulnerable teenager.

I often vented to her about my home life, how my parents were divorcing, the abuse I was going through, etc. Her response, more often than not, was offering to roleplay as an escape to get my mind off it. These roleplays were often sexual in nature.

Mari knew fully well that I was a vulnerable, traumatized teenager who was lying about their age to act in NSFW ways online. She knew for over a year and said nothing to either stop me or steer me towards more healthy coping mechanisms, and instead she took advantage of me.

I know she is in at least one fandom that has a lot of minors in it - the Danganronpa fandom. Please, if you are a minor, do not interact with her. She is predatory. Get away as fast as you can, block her on everything. Keep yourself safe.

I will be tagging this with tags from both the Monster Prom fandom and the Danganronpa fandom since I know she is active in both fandoms. Appropriate trigger warning tags will also be there. If there is a trigger warning tag you feel I should add, please let me know and I will add it as soon as possible.

Again, I'm sorry for any damage I did while I was operating the Monster Prom blog. I was in the wrong, I paid the price, and I'm ready for any backlash I may recieve. It's worth it as long as people are sufficiently warned about Mari and her predatory behavior.

I turn 19 tomorrow. I hope coming forward about this helps me move on so I can start healing, not only from this, but from the things that lead me to Mari in the first place.

Thank you for reading. Stay safe.

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[allkinds-oftrash]

To Lady Paige, With Love

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first time writing for Bridgerton and Regency in general so hopefully it's not too OOC and modernized but do let me know if you have tips to make the writing style seem more regency-like.

Main Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x FemOC! Paige Crane (Past! Marina Thompson x Paige Crane)

Anyways this came to me as an idea because I just could not stand Phillip in the original To Sir Phillip, With Love and big thanks to @ladiesofwinterfell whose Phillip posts only fuelled my need for a new version of TSPWL. So I wanted to try my hand at writing a genderbent version of him who softer and kinder in her approach when with Marina. Instead, I somehow made a completely new character who happens to be his twin sister Paige. I tried my best to follow the book very closely with of course changes to the point of view and how Marina is treated by Paige. Another thing to note is that I used a mix of the show (especially when crafting Marina's backstory it's straight out of S1) and book's background of the characters.

I'm going to stop babbling now, and happy reading everyone!

Content & Trigger Warnings: Mentions/Descriptions of (Postpartum) Depression, Implied Child Neglect, Suicide Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Teen Pregnancy (?? I dunno if this needed to be tagged as tw but Imma add it anyways), Death and Grief.

Part 2 - Chapter 1: Right Where You Left Me

Prologue: Take Me To The Lakes [14th February 1823]

It shouldn’t have been a sunny day. It was far too beautiful of a day for a tragedy to occur.

A tragedy on Valentine’s Day, it was almost laughable.

Paige had asked the servants to open up Marina’s curtains. She knew the sunlight would do her some good. While waiting for the kitchen staff to prepare a delightful breakfast of pancakes - Marina’s favourite - she decided to check on her flowers. She had grown a lovely patch of Eden roses, specially for her best friend.

Ever since her brother Phillip and her were children, they were enamoured with botany. Phil, of course, immersed himself in the science of it. Paige preferred simple gardening. If she needed information on more complex maintenance of their plants, she knew where to find his textbooks. Over the years, Paige had developed a thumb as green as her brother’s. While Philip used botany as an escape, Paige used it as a way to connect. It was the very same type of roses that helped Paige find her way to Marina.

September 1812

Marina Thompson was a sight to behold. Her corkscrew curls were half pinned up, allowing the bottom wave of curls to be free. Paige couldn’t help but be mesmerised at how well suited her hairstyle was. Marina had a side part, almost covering the left side of her face. She donned the most simple of peach day dresses. Yet to the Crane girl, it seemed to be the most beautiful piece of garment she could have worn. To this day, Paige swears she heard music swell around her the moment she saw Marina bent over, smelling the rose bush.

She takes a deep breath. It helped ground her to muster the confidence to approach the beautiful stranger. The Crane twins have always been shy and reserved. It had done nothing good for them. She was tired of letting life pass her by. Philip could hide in the bushes for all she cared. Today, Paige decided to make a choice. A choice that could potentially bring her happiness. She was going to talk to the girl who made her heart sing.

Taking baby steps, she finally reaches Marina and gives her an awkward smile. When she needed it most, words seemed to fail her. Marina felt Paige’s presence hovering and looked up. She smiled kindly at her and handed over a rose she had plucked. Paige looked down at the rose, in a slight panic. She was rooted to the ground, unable to say or move.

“Good evening, Miss…?” Marina kept her eyes trained on Paige. She trailed her greeting off, hoping to get a name. Paige immediately fell for the warmth in her eyes. She felt safe. That definitely helped to ease her up.

“Crane. Paige Crane.” She cleared her throat awkwardly before introducing herself. She takes the rose from Marina and the two girls shake hands. All Paige could think about was how warm and soft her hand felt. Struggling to say more, she turned her focus to the rose. She twirled it around in her fingers and looked at her companion.

“These are Eden roses, also known as Rosa ‘Pierre De Ronsard’ named after the French poet. However, it was far too pretentious of a name for those out of the French border. So it was renamed Eden Climber to convey the idea of paradise was created by the exceptional beauty of this rose.” She was acutely aware she was rambling. It was the way Marina was watching her intently that brought her comfort. Marina gave her a cheeky smile when she was done with the fun fact.

“An exceptionally beautiful rose for an exceptional beauty.” Marina gestured to Paige. The botanist’s cheeks started to turn as pink as the rose.

“Eden roses from the girl who seemed to have fallen from Eden.” She thought to herself...until she heard Marina chuckle. Paige stared at her, horrified. “I thought out loud, didn’t I?”

Marina nodded, laughing with her whole body now. If Paige could have bottled the sound, she would. Marina grinned at Paige as she looped her arm through hers.

“Don’t be embarrassed. That was a lovely compliment. I think we're going to be wonderful friends, Paige Crane.”

They have been inseparable since.

***

With Phillip away on business for the week, Paige made sure to spend extra time with Marina. She carefully cut the stems of the roses to make a small bouquet. She tied them together and brought them straight to the kitchen. She placed the roses by the pancake plate. She picked up the tray and made her way to Marina's room. She balanced the tray on one hand and knocked with the other as she crossed the threshold.

"Marina, are you awake, love?" Paige asked gently. She stepped closer to her and held out the roses. "I brought you your favourite roses too, Eden Climbers. An exceptional beauty for an exceptional beauty." She echoed the line from their first meeting.

It was love at first sight. She remembered how much fun they had together. Oh where had the time gone? She frowned when she noticed the curtains were shut again. She set down the breakfast tray by her nightstand before making herself comfortable next to Marina lying down.

"If you could walk to shut the curtains, you can sit up to have some breakfast. I had the chef make your favourite." Paige attempted to waft the smell of pancakes in the direction of her companion. Marina simply turned away and stared out at the window. Paige reached out to gently stroke her hair.

Marina had her good and bad days come and go. Paige knew she had to give her space and let her heal on her own. It had been 9 years….this was definitely more serious than postpartum. She was sure of it. Paige gave her a few more minutes before digging into the breakfast herself.

"Rina, I will finish all of the pancakes if you don't come get some!" Paige attempted to sound threatening but her meek voice did her no favours. She caught a silver of a smile on Marina's face. That was all she needed that day. They just had to get through this one moment at a time.

"I saw that, love. Would it be easier if I fed you?"

Marina managed a small nod. She detested feeling like this. Like she was constantly drowning. If everyone thought they couldn't understand why she was this way, she hadn't had the foggiest idea either. Most of all, she hated how it affected Paige. Marina knew she didn't deserve this. Paige deserved a whole person not the shell of a woman she had become. She let out a soft sight and did her utmost best to sit up slightly so they wouldn't get syrup all over the sheets.

Slowly and surely, one bite at a time, Marina finished a full pancake by herself. Paige beamed at her proudly after she was done. Marina took the moment to relish in her smile. Paige always made everything better. Marina might have been depressed but she was no fool. She knew what Phillip thought of her. Even if she spent most days unable to leave her bed, she saw the way he looked at her. Like she was a fragile, broken melancholic thing. He didn't see the person underneath. He only saw the shell. Paige… She knew Marina before the twins came along. She knew the true Marina. The one who laughed and smiled and had known joy. The Marina Thompson that loved Paige Crane with all her heart. That should be reason enough to work hard to recover. To retain who she once was. Paige should be enough.

The botanist saw her companion's vacant eyes and knew she was gone for the day. Paige smiled at her comfortingly. "I ought to check on the children. I shall leave you to rest, dearest. Do ring the bell should you need anything at all." She pressed a soft kiss against her forehead before taking her leave.

As she stepped out looking for the children, Miles directed her to Phillip's greenhouse. The children loved to make mischief there when their father wasn't there. She popped her head into the Greenhouse.

"Amanda! Oliver!" She said sharply to startle them. Seeing them jump out of their bones, she couldn't help but laugh. The twins turned to her and frowned.

"Aunt Paige, that's not funny!" They pouted at her. She snorted.

"Well it was pretty funny when you did it to me yesterday. I'm simply returning the favour, my dears." She chuckled, pulling them into her embrace.

Just as she was about to suggest playing hide and seek by the lake, Amanda squeals. "Mother!" She pointed behind Paige. Paige simply blinked at her niece before slowly turning around.

Marina? It couldn't be. She caught sight of a flash of red. Red. Paige smiled to herself as she shook her head. It must be her. Red was her favourite colour. Marina always said she liked it because it was a strong colour and it made her feel strong.

Paige was filled with joy. Marina had finally gotten the strength to step out. She grabs the children's hands to bring them over to their mother. It would do them good to spend time together outside of her room. The trio was halfway across the field when Paige worked out exactly why Marina had come out. The horrifying epiphany clicked when she saw Marina slip rocked into the pockets of her dress. She immediately turned to the children. They did not have to witness this.

“Children, I need you to do me a favour.” She put on her most calming smile. She kept looking back at Marina to see how far she was away from the lake. “Could you be dears and please fetch Miles for me? Then I need you to go and play in your room. Your mother and I need to speak privately.”

“Why is she walking to the lake?” Amanda questioned. Paige tried to keep her composure. If the children kept questioning, she wouldn’t be able to reach Marina in time.

“I will explain later, please get Miles. It’s urgent.” Paige sent them off running while she sprinted in the other direction the moment they were out of sight.

“MARINA, STOP!” She bellowed at her best friend. She skidded across the field and fell face flat just yards away from the lake. Marina was completely oblivious, submerging herself into the depths of the lake. It was just her and the magnetic pull of the lake. It was like Paige wasn’t even there. She quickly recovered. She didn’t waste time undressing and dove straight into the icy waters to rescue Marina. She’ll be damned if she was going to let the love of her life go without a fight.

She couldn’t find her. Marina had dropped off to the deep end and Paige felt like she couldn’t breathe. She could never forgive herself if Marina succeeded. A glimmer of hope shone through when she caught sight of Marina’s ruby red cloak floating to the surface. Before it could get sucked into the depths of the lake, Paige screamed Marina’s name one last time as an attempt to snap her out of it. Of course, Marina couldn’t hear her. Paige set her sight on the flash of red and swam to it.

Paige did the math; Marina had been under barely a minute. It was probably not enough time to drown, but every second it took her to find Marina was one second toward her death.

She remembered swimming in the lakes with Phillip when they were children countless times. While he still swam and knew the lake better than she did. She had a vague idea where the bottom dropped off. She felt relief when she quickly found the critical point with swift, even strokes. The main obstacle was her dress working against the drag of the water, slowly her down. She cursed, not having stripped before she went in. She did her best to overcome it. Saving Marina was far too important.

She told herself she could find her. She had to find her. Before it was too late.

She found herself diving further down the murky waters. She struggled to keep her eyes open with some of the sand from the bottom swirling around her. Marina must have kicked it up as she went down. The opaque clouds of sand were making it difficult to see. Eventually, relief washed over Paige again when she spotted Marina’s red dress.

She didn’t hesitate to shoot through the waters, down to the bottom where she saw the red of her

cloak floating through the water. Paige felt her heart slow down the moment Marina was in her arms. While they were both petite women, Paige did struggle initially to swim up with Marina. Slowly but surely, she forged their way to the surface. Once she had pulled her onto the grassy knoll of the meadow, she had already lost consciousness and was nothing more than a dead weight in Paige’s arms. She took a moment to take big gasps to fill her aching lungs once again. She made sure she was okay herself before turning to save Marina.

Paige tried shaking her awake, rather violently to get the water out of Marina’s system. Just as she started chest compressions, Miles came running over.

“What happened?”

“She...fell in.” She didn’t even look up at him. She hated how her voice trembled as she said that out loud. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that Marina had gone in on purpose. Marina had chosen to leave her. She knew it was hard on her love but she refused to think about it presently. She was too busy trying to revive her. When the chest compressions felt like a failed task, Paige turned to mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She blew the air into her mouth, hoping the water would come up her throat.

“Marina, please.” Paige pleaded as she finished her set of resuscitation. All she could do was wait. She finally turned to look at Miles, “Miles darling, could you help me send someone to fetch the doctor.” She requested, exhausted clear in her voice. He nodded swiftly and set on his task. Just as he turned to head to Romney Hall, Marina coughed up the water and started rasping. Paige gasped and squealed in surprise, launching herself into Marina’s arms. She called Miles back to help her guide Marina back home.

“You came back to me.” She whispered with relief, starting to softly sob against Marina’s chest. Marina was tired and she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lulled against Paige’s.

“It’s okay, we’re going home.” Paige continued and Marina stirred, frowning.

“No…” Now it was her turn to sob, “Please don’t. Let me go, Paige. I don’t want...I don’t….” She struggled to get the words out. As much as she felt guilty for putting Paige through this whole ordeal, her pain outweighed that. The pain outweighed everything: her love for Paige, the children, even Phillip - as much as he misunderstood her. It outweighed her will to love.

Paige watched her flounder helplessly. She hated seeing Marina in so much turmoil. She didn’t want to say anything to make it worse. She just held her close and brushed her hair soothingly. “It’s alright. Let’s just get you warmed up first.”

“I can’t.” She whispered with the last ounce of energy before passing out in Paige’s arms. Paige looked down at her sadly for a moment before looking up at Miles. She shot him a sheepish look and gestured for help. Miles carried her in his arms easily while Paige just watched her with worry the whole walk back.

Once they reached Romney Hall’s foyer, she instructed Miles to send a telegram to Phillip informing him of Marina’s condition. She also called for their housekeeper, Mrs. Hurley. After she had gotten Mrs. Hurley to help her strip Marina of her drenched clothes, the older woman practically shoved Paige to her own room to change into dry clothes. She argued with her, refusing to leave Marina alone for even a moment.

“Go on, dear, I’ll be with her until you return.” Mrs. Hurley shooed Paige out of the room. She huffed and obliged. She dashed to her room to quickly change out of her own icy clothes.

She found one of her old dresses, it was a yellow floral one that Marina loved so much. Marina used to tell her that it brought out the golden flecks in her brown eyes. Paige never liked her brown haired-brown eyed look and found herself to be plain looking. It was only when Marina came along, she felt seen. Maybe being plain didn’t matter when someone loved you in spite of it. Hopeful the dress would stir up old memories, Paige stepped into Marina’s bedroom nervously. She said a silent prayer for her to be well. That the 7 minutes didn’t do that much damage.

Marina was sleeping soundly when Paige entered the room. She couldn’t help but smile at how at peace Marina looked. At that moment, she understood why Marina spent so much time hiding away and sleeping. This was probably the only place in the house that brought her peace. Sleeping brought her peace.

She had Miles check on the twins before she settled into staying by Marina’s side. She wanted to be there every step of her recovery. Then after, they could get her some real help. The twins were plenty occupied with their playtime for the day. While waiting for the doctor, Paige slipped into the bed by Marina’s side. She cradled her head against her chest and prayed. Even though she was a woman of science and was the type of Christian that only attended church during Christmas, praying was one comfort of her religion she allowed herself. She prayed for all her wishes for Marina. For her happiness, recovery...for the good times to hopefully return. As she wished, hoped and prayed, she found herself falling asleep.

When the night came and brought the doctor along with it, Paige woke with a start at the feverishly warm body beside her. The panic set in and the doctor did his best to soothe her. He coaxed her out of the bed so he could check on Marina. Paige was more than happy to oblige but stood hovering over the doctor’s shoulder the whole time.

When he diagnosed her with pneumonia, Paige’s heart sank. That was definitely going to finish the job Marina set out to do in the lake. He saw her expression and comforted her by saying she could very well recover. Essentially, it was a waiting game. Paige made peace with those odds, she would gladly take all the time in the world with her. She spent the rest of the night and the next three days nursing her. She dabbed wet cloth after cloth against her warm forehead. Made sure she had the fluffiest pillows and duvet. She specially had the cook make all of her favourite dishes to go with the broth Marina detested.

Paige wanted to tell her to fight but she didn’t want to push her. Instead she spent the last few days together, helping Marina remember the woman she once was and could be again. Paige wanted her to remember to fight for herself.

The morning after, she sat by Marina’s bedside and smiled tenderly at her.

“Do you remember our first season together?” She asked, her elbow propped against the mattress, her face resting on her palm.

Marina turned to her and looked straight into her eyes. For a moment, she was lucid. “Of course,” She said, coarsely. Paige smiled, that was the best response she had gotten from her in the last few months.

“Best and worst year of our lives, I’d reckon. I was so certain I finally had the courage to tell you how I felt. Only for me to find out you were besotted with George and was pregnant with his child!” She could chuckle about it now but she remembered feeling so awful.

Paige Crane has always known she was different in that aspect. None of the boys growing up ever caught her attention. When she became a woman, out during her first season, she couldn’t relate to the way other girls had talked about their suitors. Nothing about the male species ever stirred anything romantic within her. They were just really good friends to her. Women, on the other hand, gave her all the feelings the human emotional spectrum allowed. She wanted to love them and worship them forever. When she met Marina at Romney Hall for the first time smelling the rose bushes, it had confirmed everything she already knew. She loved women. A regular Anne Lister.

She spent a few years loving Marina until her father had sent her away to stay with her London cousins, The Featheringtons. When she heard Marina was moving, she immediately sought out her mother.

“I couldn’t bear to part with you so I convinced Mother to let me debut that season in the city.” She chuckled, recounting the lengths she went to be close to her.

“I’m glad you did.” Marina croaked, the water still hurting her lungs. Now that she felt like speaking to Paige, her body was failing her. She managed a small smile and slipped her hand into hers. She definitely remembered their first season together. It was the best time… til everything quickly went downhill with the news of George’s death, being pregnant with the twins and feeling so alone. Paige was the light in all of that darkness, she had helped pull her out of the loneliness.

Paige grinned back wildly. "I think that's the first full sentence I've heard you speak in the last few months." She nudged her teasingly.

"Oh hush." She attempted to be annoyed but started coughing violently. Paige immediately shot up.

"I'm going to fetch the doctor."

"I just need some water, darling." She coughed once more. Then took a deep breath and managed a smile to show she was fine, despite her exhaustion. Paige nodded and went to fetch her a glass.

As Marina watched Paige walk out the door, she thought back to how much everything had changed in the last 10 years. It only felt like yesterday they had debuted and Marina had tried to marry Colin Bridgerton. Oh, what a mess that was. She was so consumed by her love and grief for George, she missed what was right in front of her.

It took Marina a long time to realise it but she loved men and women the same. Paige was definitely the first woman to stir up romantic feelings within her. It also took her a while to realise loving Paige doesn't count the love she held for George. He would always be the father of her children. Paige was the love of her life.

She never expected to be like this. She always thought she would be a good mother, full of life and happy. Happy was such an overrated emotion, Marina thought bitterly. It's not something that happens, it's something you work for. You make happiness for yourself. She knew that all too well. She spent the better part of the last decade fighting off her grief and postpartum with no success.

Paige reminded her to take comfort in the good days. It was rather jarring to Martina how she was experiencing a somewhat good day after all these months. Especially the day right after she made an attempt on her life.

"Penny for your thoughts, darling?" Paige asked, handing over the glass. Marina gulp it down quickly and set the cup aside.

"Just...how we got here. I thought it would be…" she ponders over the word, "different."

"Hmm," Paige hummed, "You're telling me. We could have had quite the life if I was a man. I could have married you instead of Phillip." She wrinkled her nose. She really does love her brother, Lord only knows. And Paige is pretty sure it's a crime to hate your twin. But she absolutely despised the way Phillip treats Marina. Or rather not - he completely abandoned her in the last few years.

It's no secret that Phillip and Marina's marriage was one of convenience, security and protection for Marina. Of course, Romney Hall needed heirs and so two birds. But, he could at least pretend to care for her.

"I could have become a spinster like you. We could have been the two crazy spinsters that lived in Romney Hall together." Marina chuckled. Paige beamed at her. It had been so long since she had heard that wondrous laugh.

"I'm not a spinster!" She clasped Marina's hands in hers. "We may not be married on paper but I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I can't imagine...loving anyone else." Paige looked deep into her eyes. Marina shivered slightly. Her lover had a way of looking directly into your soul.

Paige knew what the doctor had said. That Marina could possibly recover but her gut was telling her something else. She was hit with the sudden realisation that she could lose her. The love of her life.

"Please fight this, Marina. I know you can. Look at today, it was a good day. You just need to survive the pneumonia and you can start over. We'll erase the last 7 years. Slowly but surely, we can manage your melancholy. You're so much more than it, my love. You know that. Your children deserve to know that."

Paige didn't realise how increasingly desperate she sounded until she began pleading with her. She found her face wet with fresh tears. Marina reached out to wipe the tears of her face.

"I'll try." She said quietly.

"That's all I ask, thank you. I love you, Marina." She leaned over to kiss her. Kissing her back, Marina sighed against her lips. "I love you too."

That night Marina lied awake, watching Paige's chest rise up and down. Marina smiled at her little snores. Just as she felt a glimmer of happiness laying beside her love, the guilt washed over her. She didn't want to promise anything. While today reminded her of the hope she felt to feel alive, deep down she knew it was temporary. She couldn't see herself living past tomorrow.

Sure enough, she was dead in two days.

****

[Read Part 2 Here]

[katedrakeohd]

A Very Merry Birthday (5)

[Masterlist]

Hey let's make this a wacky drabble. This week's prompt #80 Stop looking at me like that

Word count: 2000

Cast of characters: Drake, Kate, Preston Davis. (OC)

Rated PG: talk of mature themes, sexual innuendo

Tagging:

@wackydrabbles @darley1101 @sfb123 @mom2000aggie @fluffyfirewhiskey @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @kingliam2019 @no-one-u-know @nikkis1983 @glaimtruelovealways @texaskitten30 @bbrandy2002 @marshmallowsandfire

..

After exiting the stairway, Drake and Kate make their way down the hall to their room. He looked at her nervously as he dug into his pocket for his room key, "Are we really going through with this threesome thing?"

When they arrive at their door, Kate steps in front of Drake. Cupping his face in her hands she pulls him in for a kiss, her voice low, "Yes, we are. I'm only going to turn 27 once and I want it to be special." 

Drake smirks against her mouth and mumbles as their kisses continue, "What's so special about turning 27?"

Kate caresses the back of his neck and runs her fingers through his hair, "Nothing really, but do you know what?"

"Hmm?"

Kate runs the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip, and then licks her own. "I can still taste myself on your mouth and I like it."

Drake presses the room key into her hand and with the other hand goes into his jacket, making sure to slide his palm across her breast before retrieving his phone from the inside pocket. 

"You go on into our room, and I'll give Preston a call."

Kate chuckles, "Be nice to him, and please tell him again that I'm sorry for hurting him."

"I will."

…

Preston is sitting up in bed in his underwear and a t-shirt, with a small bag of ice wrapped in a pillowcase nestled against his groin. The pain had pretty much subsided by this point, but he wanted to make sure there was no chance of swelling. This hadn't been his first blow to the nuts, but knowing how it felt didn't make any time it happened again any less painful. 

Beside him on the bed is a half eaten sandwich on a plate that he had ordered from room service. It was still early in the evening and it bothered him to not have anything to do. If they were back home at Valtoria there would still be another two hours in his work shift. Back at home these were prime party hours and he'd have guests to keep tabs on with his usual crew of guards. If it was a quiet evening with no guests, he'd walk the halls and then patrol the perimeter outside and use the time to go over  the next day's sentry and active guard schedule in his head and get some welcome fresh air.

Once a month there would be an evening poker game amongst the senior staffers, which occasionally the Duke would join in on if the Duchess was away, but mostly it was a fun and casual night for the staff to tell funny anecdotes at their employer's expense. 

Tonight, after clicking through the limited channel options on his room's TV, he had resorted to browsing the social media on his phone. Thankfully the hotel had free wifi. Reaching over he grabs the last part of his sandwich and takes a bite, and then another to finish it. Now that his hand was free he shifted the ice pack to the side and gingerly fondled himself through his underwear. The ice had left him temporarily numb, but there didn't seem to be any unusual swelling so he transferred the ice pack over onto his dinner plate. Laying his phone on his chest he planted his hands on the bed and carefully scooted his ass down the bed so he could lie down on his back. With a sigh he folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. 

After a few minutes of studying the crown moulding and lamenting the Ravenhurst's poor choice of wallpaper, he closes his eyes out of boredom. Out in the hallway he can hear the muffled voices of people approaching his room, expecting them to fade as they pass by. But this time they don't. Listening intently he recognizes the low tones of Drake's voice, and the faint inflection of Kate's laughter. So Mr. and Mrs. Smith, or Jones or whatever are back from their dinner date. Hope they had fun. 

There's the click of a door opening and closing and then the muffled footfalls of someone walking away, punctuated by the creek of the wooden floorboards under the carpet. Preston turns his head to look toward the door, curious. Pulling his hand out from behind his head he reaches for his phone before it can slide off his chest.

 …

Drake shoved one hand in his pocket as he paced back and forth in the hallway, looking down at his phone. Of course it had to be the pocket with Kate's panties in it. He bunches them in his fist and sighs in frustration as he picks Preston's name out of his contact folder. How in the hell do I call someone and invite them to be the third person in a sexual situation? Especially when I really don't want him there in the first place? I could lie to her and say that I asked Preston and he declined. Yeah right, Kate's like a human lie detector and would know I'm not telling the truth. 

He presses the message icon on his screen and then stops to lean against the wall. As awkward a conversation this was about to be, it would be better conducted quietly.

The Duke::   Hi Preston, how are you feeling?

There's a brief pause and then Preston responds,

Preston::  I'm doing ok. How can I help you Sir?

The Duke:: I have an unusual request. You're free to decline if you don't feel up to the task.

Preston:: Ok. That's not suspicious at all. 🤔

The Duke:: First some questions. And again you can choose not to answer if you feel they're too personal.

Preston:: Should I be worried? This isn't some dangerous mission is it?

The Duke:: That all depends on how you behave.

Drake grins to himself and rubs his jaw as he waits for Preston to respond. The seconds tick by and then Preston answers.

Preston:: Are you out in the hall?

The Duke:: yes

A few seconds go by and he hears a door open and he looks up to see Preston pop his head out into the hall. 

"Pssst. Over here," he whispers.

Drake pushes away from the wall and tucks his phone into his back pocket. He looks quickly up and down the hall before walking over to Preston's room. He takes in his underdressed state and then grins at him, "You're going to think I'm crazy."

Preston steps back to let Drake step into the room. "Now I'm really curious."

Drake stands in the middle of the room feeling awkward, knowing he still had to ask the questions he had on his mind. Preston gestures toward the chair for Drake to have a seat, but he shakes his head.

"I'd rather stand." I'm too nervous to sit down. "But you might want to sit."

Preston shrugs and then sits down on the end of the bed. "What's on your mind, Sir?"

Drake doesn't know where to start. Just get the personal questions out of the way, you idiot, before you chicken out.

Taking a deep breath in Drake forces himself to push aside his nerves and decides to sit down after all. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and then leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Ok, then. Question one. Are you currently in a relationship?"

Preston's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Uh, no. But why -...?"

Drake holds his hand up to interrupt him, "Just bear with me and then I'll get to the point."

Preston tilts his head, frowning, but crosses his arms and then waits. 

Drake scratches the back of his head, trying to find the words to ask the questions on his mind before he gets to the invitation from Kate.

"Are..are you straight? Gay? Something else?" Drake stammers, feeling anxious.

Preston can't help but laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date Your Grace?"

"I...just answer the question."

Preston shrugs, noting the nervous bounce of Drake's knee and the way he kept averting his eyes. He also couldn't help but notice that his shirt was half unbuttoned already and his hair was slightly messy. "I'm straight...I guess."

Drake looks up, "You guess? Either you are or you aren't.  Stop looking at me like that."

"Well when you get right down to it, these days when you're lonely enough and looking for that kind of pleasure a hole is a hole. If you understand what I mean? Between two consenting adults of course."

Drake wasn't expecting that kind of answer from Preston, and he's suddenly reminded of his own 27th Birthday. But he had one last question before he mentioned the threesome idea. Taking a deep breath he thought about Kate, and how she was expecting Preston to come back with him.

"Well, if you're thinking straight, I want your honest opinion about something."

Preston wasn't sure where this was going, but this had to be the strangest conversation he'd ever had with any boss he's ever had. Was it even ethical to have this kind of conversation? 

"Ok, sure. What do you want to know?"

"How do you feel about my wife?"

Preston wasn't sure how to answer that sort of question without getting a punch to the face. She'd already slapped him and mashed his nuts with her knee, but being the one to escort her to the restaurant had been exciting to say the least. He wasn't sure if he'd interpreted her suggestion correctly, that he should get handsy with her in order to get Drake's attention, or not. Or perhaps he had gone too far. He was certainly confused as to why Drake would show up in his room and start asking personal questions. He decided to keep his answer as ambiguous as possible.

"She's a beautiful woman, and a man would have to be blind not to desire her."

Drake nods, appreciating his answer, "Go on, I think there's more you want to say."

Preston's eyes narrow and he feels uncomfortable with Drake's tone of voice, "If you're trying to lead me on into admitting something as some sort of trap, I'm not falling for it. I was following her orders…"

Again Drake interrupts, "Yes, I get that. What I really want to know is if you enjoyed touching my wife like that?"

Preston carefully considers his answer. Yes, he had liked being able to touch her. But acting like a total ass had earned him a slap and a knee to the groin, and he knew that wasn't acceptable behavior. Kate didn't deserve to be grabbed like that. She had looked like candy wrapped in a red satin bow, and damn she had smelled like it too. He'd love to be lucky enough to have a woman like that. She would be like a gift, one he could unwrap everyday and never get tired of finding the same thing waiting for him on the inside.

"No, I didn't. K...Mrs. Walker shouldn't be touched that way without permission. It was wrong."

Drake's phone chimes and he checks it. He has a text message from Kate.

Kate:: have you asked him yet?

Drake:: getting there, be patient.

Drake looks up from his phone. "Smart answer. Now how would you like the chance to make it right?"

His phone chimes again. 

Preston chuckles, "What do you mean?"

Kate:: this kitty Kat is getting awfully lonely over here, and with an itch that needs to be scratched. It would be a shame if I had to handle it on my own. 😽😈

"Kate...Mrs. Walker, wants me to invite you over to our room. For some fun."

"What sort of fun?"

Drake's phone chimes again.

Kate:: tick tock, Walker. Are you two coming over to play?

"The naked kind."

Preston laughs, "You're right. I do think you're crazy."

Drake stands up. "Well are you in, or not?"

Preston shrugs, "What the Hell, I'm in."

[miss--river]

Hi! As someone who has extensively modded games like Skyrim and Fallout 4/New Vegas and Cyberpunk, all heavily, I just wanted to reach out after seeing your posts about the game being broken in a certain spot and you doing a fresh install. I wanted to share any and all tips I can think of right now for your future enjoyment of cp77 with mods! <3 So, after doing your fresh install, what I'd recommend is booting the game up and loading your save where its been crashing. If you can progress, assume its either a broken/outdated mod or a mod was installed incorrectly. Most mods are simple drag-and-drop into this location on your PC:

(or GOG or whatever platform you bought the game through; I have it on Steam so it goes through Steamapps where my Steam games are located) This is where any .archive mod goes, things like hair, clothing, cyberware, anything generally that you'd use to make an OC/V. The two mods that can be intimidating to install are AMM and Cyber Engine Tweaks.

This is the location for Cyber Engine Tweaks:

And this is where AMM goes:

I also have Appearance Change Unlocker and Character Customization Anywhere; both need CET so both go in the mods folder within CET. If you use that Otis Freecam mod, that doesn't go into the game, you can put that anywhere, I keep it on my desktop usually for easy access. CET has a wiki linked on the Nexus Mods page on how to install so I'd recommend following the steps and then testing in-game to ensure its working before adding AMM or other mods that rely on CET to run. If your game progresses since a clean install and you don't notice the same crash plaguing you, I'd suggest adding in your mods one at a time or a few at a time. That way you can see what's breaking that section for you; its time consuming and a pain in the butt but it is the most effective way to see what mod may be causing an issue. I'd suggest installing CET, test to ensure its working and there's no crash, then add AMM if you use it, and then checking if it crashes. If it does, something might be where it shouldn't be. If both work, then proceed with adding in your archive mods either one, or maximum, five at a time and see if you notice any issues arise. If you get all your mods back in and can't reproduce the crashing issue, then it might have been some game-bug or one-off error afksfkasfas. I apologize if this comes off ??? idk, as patronizing or infantilizing, that is not my intention, technical issues like this I find I best understand when someone explains it to me in a simple, A to B manner so I wanted to explain how I'd best understand it but I saw your post while in the tag and I know how frustrating it can be to not be able to just game with all your mods and have fun because you're now having to struggle with tech issues gskdgsdkgds xD I spent several days modding Skyrim extensively and testing to make sure everything was playing nice and by the time I got my mods installed, I was too burned out to really play lmaoo Anyways, sorry for writing a book KFSDKFSDF, I just wanted to offer any knowledge I have to help you now and potentially in the future! I'm sending you much love and positivity and I hope this helps and I hope that you can get back to Cyberpunking asap! <3 <3 <3

thank you so much for reaching out to answer my question! im so used to asking about tech problems and getting ignored now so i really, really appreciate you!

i actually had so many mods installed that im not sure how effective trying them 1 by 1 or a few a time would be. i'd probably get frustrated before i even found it lmao! especially since some mods come with multiple files that need to go in different folders. like there were mods i completely forgot about and wasnt even using. but whatever it was, i dont think i would have noticed it if i hadn't started a new character because it only happened that one time and every thing else has been completely fine, even on my other character.

i saved all the mods i knew i was currently using and put them in folders that would help me remember their install paths, then i uninstalled and reinstalled my game thinking that all the mods would be gone... NOPE! every single mod was still there! so that sucked because the reinstall took 4 hours. i ended up looking up how to do a fresh reinstall of cyberpunk and it told me to delete the mod folder, archive folder, and the r6 folder and then verify the files through steam. i wish i had known that before sitting through a pointless 4 hour reinstall lmao! after that i put back all the mods that i saved and ran the game and it was completely fine!

unfortunately you reached out after all this but im still so grateful! you are so sweet for reaching out and being so helpful! i didnt think you sounded rude at all either so dont worry!