#I feel like flavor wise I have to give him dedication

[thatonebjp]

Black commons

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders Viewers' Choice #16: Richard the Lionheart

Today on Grailfinders, we’re building the crusader king of Fate/Strange Fake, Richard the first, a.k.a. Richard the Lionheart. Richie rich is a Champion like Artoria, since he needs to be able to almost copy her noble phantasm, but he also dips into Cleric to summon his knights, Fighter for some extra swordplay skillz, as well as the Duelist Archetype to draw whatever he wields quickly and effectively.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Ancestry & Background

okay, okay, no funny business with ancestries this time. Richard the first is a bonified Skilled Human, even if he has blue blood. with this, he gets a boost in any two stats like Strength and Charisma, and he gets his riding skill early thanks to a free training in Nature, which also gets bumped up for free at level 5. beyond that, his Natural Skill gives him training in two more skills of your choice like Diplomacy and Athletics. Richard’s kind of good at everything, so expect a lot of spread.

at level five, Richard can Sense Allies within 60’ of you as long as they’re not hiding from you. you won’t know exactly where they are, but finding them is also a lot easier.

at level nine you become Multitalented, which is where that Fighter dedication I mentioned earlier came from. by that point you’re proficient in both athletics and acrobatics, so you learn Deception instead.

at level 13 your Advanced General Training gives you another general feat of level 7 or lower. if there’s something you really want by this point feel free to grab it, but I’m saying it’s for Powerful Leap. it feels like every servant can hop around like a frog on crack.

finally at level 17 your Heroic Presence bolsters nearby allies with zealous conviction. they get temporary HP, a bonus against mental effects, and you can make them do whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t clash with their morals too badly.

of course your background is a Noble, giving you a boost in Intelligence and Constitution, as well as training in Society and Heraldry Lore, and on top of that, you gain Courtly Graces, allowing you to use society to make an impression on other nobles.

Class Levels

1. getting the proficiencies out of the way, on top of the ones already mentioned you’re trained in Perception, Religion, Reflex saves, your Class DC, Unarmed, Simple, and Martial Weapons, all Armor, Survival, and Stealth immediately, and you learn Intimidation, Medicine, Performance, and Thievery as you get smarter. that last one might not sound kingly, but you have to remember he was british first. he’s also an expert in Fortitude and Will saves.

as for the actual fun stuff, your Key Ability is Strength, and you start off with an Ability Boost in Strength, Dexterity, Wisdom, and Charisma. you also take on your deity’s domain, Family. I can’t really justify that domain flavor-wise, but mechanically you keep your allies buffed, and family is great at that. your Soothing Words are a devotion spell you can cast once per day, or you can recharge it by spending some time doing good deeds and the like. with it, you can give an ally a +1 bonus to all will saves, plus an additional +1 against emotion effects, for a round. this can also counteract a current emotional effect on that target.

as a Paladin, you have to follow the Tenets of Good, which don’t do too much mechanically but bind you flavor-wise to the side of justice and all that nonsense. this gives you the Lay on Hands devotion spell as well as a second devotion casting per day, and you can make a Retributive Strike as a reaction. this simultaneously gives an ally getting hit resistance to the attack’s damage and allows you to get a hit in on whoever caused it if they’re in range.

you also get trained in another skill here for some reason, so grab Crafting, why not. you’re also trained in Divine Spells, though it doesn’t matter much for our build.

finally, you can Shield Block, if you ever feel like carrying one of those around.

2. at your second level you can take a Vengeful Oath against evil creatures, binding you to defeating them if there’s a good chance of success. you did fight the king of england before becoming him. die a hero or become a villain and all that. this allows you to lay on hands on enemies who have hurt innocents or good allies as if they were undead, causing it to deal damage instead of healing it. it’ll be a while until your sword is properly set up. so this will have to do for now.

you’re also popular enough to have the Eyes of the City on your target, allowing you to use diplomacy and society to track creatures in towns and villages.

you also get the duelist dedication this level since you’re not wise enough to be a cleric yet. for now, that means you can quick draw as an action, drawing and attacking in the same move.

3. at level three you can stick a Divine Ally in your blade, allowing you to add a free property rune to one of your weapons at the start of your day. you can pick between disrupting (good against undead), ghost touch (its in the name), returning (if you like throwing stuff), or shifting (if you’re indecisive). you also get the critical specialization of that weapon, which for a sword means the target becomes flat footed for a round. that being said you can technically turn any weapon into your “Excalibur”, so feel free to… branch out.

speaking of diversifying, your Untrained Improvisation lets you add half your level to untrained skill checks, so you can do a lot more than you’d think. you’re also better in Athletics.

4. at level four your Aura of Courage can buff up your allies and keep them from being frightened. when that happens, the condition value is reduced, and you also reduce the frightened value of nearby allies at the end of your turn.

while we’re not going as hard in the paint for a horse as we did with some of the riders, sabers still have that Bonded Animal we gotta get, so now you can spend seven days with a regular animal, and if you pass a nature check they’ll bond with you and become permanently helpful, unless you fuck it up.

you can also only have one bonded animal at a time. can’t have a repeat of your last campaign, right?

finally, you can issue a Duelist’s Challenge as an action, turning one enemy into your dueling opponent. until they are defeated, they run away, or the encounter ends, any one-handed attack you hit them with deals extra damage, at the cost of you dealing less damage to other creatures. that’s why you have to learn delegation. not yet though.

5. at level five your Ability Boost boosts your Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, and Wisdom. you’re also better at Diplomacy now, go wild. finally, your Weapon Expertise makes you an expert in most kinds of weapons.

6. At level six, you can Smite Evil by spending an action to deal extra damage against a particular evil foe. if that foe attacks one of your allies, the duration of this effect continues into their next turn, ad infinitum.

You may also Glad-Hand new allies by making an impression on them immediately at a small penalty. If you fail, you can still try again with your normal impression roll after a minute of conversation.

Finally, you can use your Dueling Parry as an action to give yourself more AC while wielding a one-handed weapon.

7. At level seven your Armor Expertise will protect you just a bit more, and you’ll also gain the specialization effects of medium and heavy armor.

While we still haven’t been able to summon your knights yet, you can at least be sure your minions are doing a good job if you’re a Hireling Manager, giving all your hirelings a +2 bonus to all skill checks.

We’ll also increase your proficiency with Religion while we’re here, and give you a Weapon Specialization for extra damage with weapons you’re more proficient with.

8. at level eight your Advanced Deity’s Domain lets you teach your knights some Unity, giving you a third devotion point and letting you use your reaction so each ally within 30’ of you can choose between using their own saving throw modifier or yours. paladins have pretty good magic defense, so yours is usually the better option.

you can also Rapid Mantel now to climb easier. this level’s a bit slow, aside from the new spell.

just kidding, because now you’re a Cleric thanks to your new dedication! since you’re already “trained” in “religion” and all that, you get proficiency in Acrobatics and Arcana instead. you learn a couple cantrips now, but to be honest we’re entirely just here for the summons.

9. level nine is actually pretty slow. you get Champion Expertise to help you defend your pokemon title easier, as well as a Divine Smite to deal damage over time to whoever you hit with your retribution.

you’re also now better at Fortitude and Reflex saves, as well as Religion.

10. at level 10 you get another Ability Boost in Strength, Constitution, Wisdom, and Charisma.

Excalibur gets a little more shiny this level thanks to your Radiant Blade Spirit giving you more options to pick from for your weapon runes. now you’ve unlocked flaming, which deals persistent damage; and Axiomatic , which deals extra damage against chaotic enemies. you also don’t have to roll damage when you score a critical hit either, just take the average damage for each die. (you technically get the Holy rune as well to fit Pathfinder Richard, but Fate Richard is actually lawful neutral, so I’m leaving it off the list. no not that Lawful Neutral.)

you can also say a Battle Prayer as an action, dealing damage of your alignment to an enemy of your choice. it’s not massive, and you can only use this once per day per enemy, but the damage triples when you become legendary in religion, so that’s cool.

you also learn Basic Cleric Spellcasting, which doesn’t get you the slots needed to summon celestials yet. baby steps. if you really want something to do here, you could pick up Animate Dead, if you don’t mind your Richard being a lot creepier than the original. Maybe this is the FGO arcade Richard? anyway, the base version of the spell doesn’t do much, but for your second level slot you can summon a Skeletal Soldier, so that’s pretty knight-ish.

11. at level 11, your Alertness and Divine Will increases the proficiency of your Perception and Will saves respectively, and you can choose to Exalt your allies when you make a retributive strike, getting them in on the fun. since you kind of always have Excalibur on you, you’ll need some Incredible Investiture to free up some attunement slots.

you’re also better at Heraldry Lore now. why not?

12. at level 12 Excalibur becomes a Blade of Justice, letting you spend two actions to smite an enemy who’s attacked an ally or innocent before. the attack deals extra damage against the evil, and regardless of their typing you can turn all that damage into good. as a paladin, you can also add to it any and all effects you’d normally get from your paladin reaction to boot!

if you’d rather play on defense, you can gain a Sacred Defense once per hour by making a rather high religion check. if you succeed, you gain temporary HP for a minute.

you also get Expert Cleric Spellcasting this level, so you’ve got high enough spell slots to Summon Celestials! pretty much anything with “Archon” in the name (aside from a Lantern Archon) can make for a good stand-in. You could also use Summon Axiom if you want to stick more on the lawful flavoring side of things, but almost everything from there is either a demon or something you can get from the Celestial list.

13. your next level’s a bit of a cooldown as usual, it’s mostly just getting better at what you already know: Armor and Weapon Mastery, plus a boost in Intimidation. is it the army of angels? I bet it’s the army of angels.

14. at level 14 you get the only reason we took a vengeful oath at all, the Aura of Vengeance. now when you call on your allies to gang up on something thanks to your Retributive Strike, they take less of a penalty for following your lead. considering how much of this build is about helping the party, this is right in line.

what’s not is letting you Consult the Spirits. though when you think about it, the grail grants you information about where the war is taking place, and the grail is pretty much one big spirit, right? yeah, that’s what we’re going with here.

you’ve also got your fighter archetype from your ancestry now, so let’s pick up the United Assault. it’s a flourish attack that lets you make a strike with a damage bonus for each other creature that’s hit it since its last turn. since you can use your gang-up command at will, this will almost always be a +4 bonus.

15. we’re now ¾ through this build, so you know what that means! that’s right, it’s another Ability Boost! this time, grab some Strength, Constitution, Intelligence, and Charisma.

you also have A Home in Every Port, mostly thanks to you waging war-sized tantrums about the fact that you didn’t before. yeah we’re truly on the cutting edge of political theory here on Grailfinders: “The Crusades: Not That Great”.

anyways, you’ve got a Greater Weapon Specialization for more damage with everything you’re good with, and speaking of being good with stuff, more Intimidation, go nuts.

16. at level sixteen you can stop all that painful thinking and become an Instrument of Zeal- whenever you crit with your retributive strike, you deal an extra die of damage and take away the target’s next action.

you can also force your foes to beat a Terrified Retreat for a round if you critically demoralize ones that are lower-level than you.

finally, if you ever do find a shield now you can form a Shield Wall with your knights. with this, you can spend a reaction when you and another ally have your shield up to give the two of you cover.

17. at level 17, your Champion Mastery makes you a master in, yes, champion-ing. you also get Legendary Armor and a boost in Religion. still not sure if crusaders are good at this whole “religion” thing, but boy howdy are they enthusiastic.

18. at level 18 you can Expand Aura for a round, doubling the length of one of your auras. you can only have one doubled at a time so you’ll have to choose between your aura of courage or vengeance.

you’ve also been in the field long enough to make an Assured Identification. even if you get something wrong, it won’t be disastrous.

finally, your Master Cleric Spellcasting lets you upcast your summons! you get a seventh level slot now, and an eighth level slot at level 20.

19. for our penultimate level, you can Quick Climb since I’m running out of stuff to give you. you also gain the Hero’s Defiance devotion spell, so now you have a guts! finally, bump up your Athletics so you can quick climb in the first place.

20. for your final level, Ability Boost your Strength, Dexterity, Intelligence, and Wisdom. you also gain your third and final aura, the Aura of Unbreakable Virtue. with this, all evil creatures get a -1 penalty to all checks and DCs against your allies, or they get a -2 if they fall under your Oath of Vengeance.

you’re also religious enough to receive Divine Guidance, allowing you to spend 10 minutes reading the bible to get an answer to all of life’s problems if you pass a religion check.

finally, we pick up an advanced maneuver from the fighter archetype so you can Cut from the Air any ranged attacks coming your way. I’ll be honest I haven’t read Fate/Strange Fake, blame Nasu for never localizing anything, so everything I know comes from the wiki. so this is the only thing I know with 100% certainty Richard actually does in the book, everything else was interpolated from his skill descriptions. though tbf that’s how most of my builds work anyway.

oh right the actual mechanics of the feat: you get a +4 AC bonus against a ranged attack by spending your reaction slapping it out of the sky.

Pros & Cons

Pros:

I think I may have ended up making Richard’s Excalibur stronger than Artoria’s actually, especially if we count the damage caused by everyone else getting a hit in on a regular basis. Artoria’s got you beat on range though.

he’s really supportive of the party, protecting them from mind control and saving them from attacks. plus he literally brings the party with him thanks to summons!

thanks to being at least trained in almost everything, your skills can really pay the bills, giving you plenty of options outside of combat.

Cons:

while being a paladin can make you great at defeating evil, your tenets mean you have to defeat whatever evil you come across if you think you can handle it. great for your DM’s plot, terrible for actually living that long. most champions at least only have to worry about dragons, or undead, but you just picked anything evil, so good luck with that!

your exalted retributive strike eats up the whole party’s reactions. you’d better hope you don’t need anything counterspelled in the next round if you plan on going all out. also, as I found out 90% of the way through this build, summons don’t get reactionsat all, so your knights can’t actually fight with you as well as they should.

Yeah, let’s bring up range again. while you certainly have options if you’re willing to play fast and loose with the character thanks to smart summoning or using other cleric spells, those will run out real damn fast, leaving you with very little to fight flying enemies with. thank goodness you’re not a dragon slayer.

[march-harrigan]

1, 5, 16, & 18 for Jervis Tetch aka Mad Hatter? :p

OH BOY, I'm gonna have to break out the readmore because you've just opened the floodgates! I have entirely too many opinions on this man.

Thank ya for the ask!

1 - Favourites thing(s) about this character? - It varies from version to version, honestly. But if I had to pick something consistent across most portrayals, it would just be some of the ways I relate to him.

He's obviously not neurotypical, first of all(canonically schizophrenic and there may even be some other things there. Who knows?). That's true of many rogues, of course, but Jervis is the one I recognize a lot of my own symptoms and coping mechanisms in. Particularly in the way he clings to childhood nostalgia and retreats into his fantasy world when reality gets to be too much. Albeit in the form of actual delusions depending on the media whereas I'm more of a maladaptive daydreamer.

He's also been portrayed to be very meek before he officially takes on the Mad Hatter persona. Usually feeling like he doesn't fit in with the people around him whether it's because of his physical appearance(a result of dwarfism and macrocephaly in some versions) or just the fact that he's kind of odd or immature-acting.

He feels liked he's overlooked, shunned, or actively hated for who he is, which I think is a very real experience for a lot of neurodivergent people(Although fortunately, the internet has made it a lot easier to find other people who "get" you these days).

But also, I just love the fun/whimsical aesthetic and absolute "little bastard" energy he gives off once he's started his criminal career.

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5 - What do you not like about this character? - Addressing the creepy elephant in the room with this one. I do not like how many modern takes on the character end up being some flavor of sexual predator. Admittedly, it's partly because he's my blorbo and I don't like seeing that on his list of crimes. But I actually do have a couple of more thought out reasons for it as well.

First of all, I find DC can't be trusted with that kind of story telling most of the time if ever. I think it can be done well if it's a commentary on real world abuse or something that empowers survivors, but it usually just ends up being for shock value. Just there to make the story seem darker or edgier.

Secondly, there seems to be a pattern across media in general where schizophrenia(if it's mentioned or addressed at all) is this evil scary disorder that makes the person almost inhuman. With some rogues, there's an attempt to understand them. The things that drive them, why they were the way they are and the glimmer of hope that someday they could be helped. But then certain DC media will go and make Jervis as slimy and unforgivable as possible and it's exhausting.

I'm not 100% opposed to the idea of kidnapping "Alice" as part of a delusion(or in the case of BTAS, a poorly though out last resort). But where it would go from there in my mind is panicked realization. She's not responding properly, she lacks any personality, whatever drew him to her in the first place isn't there. THIS WAS A BAD IDEA. He either falls into a deep depression or lashes out. If it's the latter, he regrets it and it hurts him deeply that his violent impulses won again. He's sobbing and apologetic(see Joker's Asylum II: Mad Hatter for one of my favorite takes on this).

He's still doing awful, terrible things, but you get more of a glimpse into his humanity and his struggles with an untreated mental illness(because let's be real, Arkham isn't doing SHIT for him) and a lack of any real support system(again... Joker's Asylum II: Mad Hatter).

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16- What do you think would improve this character? Like, character-arc wise? - I know I keep banging on about the Joker's Asylum II portrayal, but I think it would be an excellent starting point for just. Something on the concept of a recovery or attempted recovery for Jervis.

I wanna see a dedicated storyline where he's fighting tooth and nail to be his best self! I want to see him with a proper support system, learning healthy coping mechanisms! I wanna see him make connections with other people in the real world! Even if he falls in the end, even if he reverts to crime for whatever reason and winds up back in Arkham. Just to show some real hope for him that maybe someday, he can start to recover from the more harmful symptoms and be truly happy would do my heart good.

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18- What’s something you associate this character with? E.g. a certain colour, object or scenery? - Wonderland, hats, tea, etc. would all be the obvious of course. As well as blue/green for colors.

I've actually come to associate him with the entire concept of nostalgia, especially for fantasy stories. I also think of him when watching movies like Labyrinth or The Dark Crystal. I even have several songs from the Labyrinth soundtrack in a Spotify playlist for BTAS Jervis. Just feels right somehow.

[morathor]

Lancer Theory: Johto Edition

This is a followup to my previous lancer theory post, which the tl;dr is: I think that type themed trainers should have one pokemon that’s not of their chosen type, both to spice up the battles and to add flavor to the trainer.  And I made a list of what teams I would build for all of the Kanto gym leaders and the Elite Four from red/blue, or, fire red/leaf green.  It wasn’t generation specific it was just about the lineup.

Anyway in that post I said I would come back and do Johto so.  I did that.

Falkner

⦁ Natu--There aren't any mono-flying types until generation five, but leading with Natu adds type diversity without letting go of the bird theme. ⦁ Clefairy-Well there goes the bird theme.  I did think about Psyduck, but it doesn't really showcase Falkner's dedication to elegance.  The other thing I think Falkner is dedicated to is legacy; he inherited his father's pokemon, he dresses in a slightly archaic style.  Clefairy has a little bit of that ⦁ Farfetch'd--I really don't like changing aces, but I also feel pretty strongly that an ace should be fully evolved.  And while, yes, I guess Falkner could trade his impossible Pidgeotto for an impossible Pidgeot, I think Pidgeot is too strong for this stage in the game.  Farfetch'd is more appropriate stat-wise.

Bugsy

⦁ Pineco--Okay this is a good sight tankier than his current Metapod (or Kakuna), but having a level 14 Metapod that could have broken free of its coccoon ages ago is.  Sad.  Plus Metapod's moveset is just tragic, Pineco will give you a little more to work with. ⦁ Krabby--A non-bug arthropod feels a little too obvious, but Bugsy's a little one-note to me.  I did consider stretching a little, and if the Bellsprout line could learn fury cutter I might have gone with that.  But nah.  The crab fits the aesthetic, learns fury cutter, and counters fire and rock. ⦁ Scyther--Ace unchanged, no notes.

Whitney

⦁ Jigglypuff--Because this list is so hypothetical, it's not really pinned to a single generation, and therefore I have no idea if Clefairy would even be a normal type.  But Jigglypuff doesn't drop the normal type even when it gains the fairy type.  It also doesn't have the unpredictableness of metronome, but it has a pretty diverse moveset, so it can be hard to deal with in that way.  Also, I want to say that while I usually push for diversity of secondary types, when the primary type is normal, secondary typing tends to feel like it's overriding it. ⦁ Flaffy--It's cute and fluffy and pairs well with Miltank.  I also considered Vulpix, but I don't think it fits her vibes as well. ⦁ Miltank--Ace unchanged, no notes.

Morty

⦁ Gastly--There still aren't a lot of ghost types to choose from, but at least we don't need a double Haunter lineup.  In fact this lineup doesn't have any haunter. ⦁ Misdreavus--When you've got a new ghost trainer in a new generation, it seems like a huge oversight not to give him any new pokemon. ⦁ Murkrow--I think this fits Morty's vibe and aesthetic as well, and when your gym is suspended over a pit you want things that can fly, right?  Offensively, dark doesn't give Morty any coverage he didn't already have, but defensively a Murkrow can handle opposing ghosts that may have threatened his team, as well as psychics (and ground in gen II) that threaten his Gastly line. ⦁ Gengar--Ace unchanged, no notes.

Chuck

⦁ Heracross--I didn't really want to give up the pure fighting type from Chuck's team, but I did want to showcase one of the new fighting types, and Hitmontop didn't really fit Chuck's vibe.  (And Tyrogue is not nearly strong enough to offer a challenge from a major player.)  I could have given up Poliwrath, I guess, but it adds more than just typing to Chuck as a trainer. ⦁ Graveler--Fits Chuck's aesthetic really well.  He surrounds himself with rocks--mostly for breaking, but why not one that breaks back?  It's all coming together baby. ⦁ Poliwrath--The only note I have for this is that, apart from being a fighting type, Chuck living on an island and having a pokemon that can surf is a neat detail to me.  And yep, that's the only reason I kept this and not Primeape.  Well, the main reason anyway.

Jasmine

⦁ Magnemite--There are no mono-steel types in Johto!  That's wild to me.  Given that, Magnemite is a good pick because it showcases a previously non-steel pokemon as being steel now.  That's neat. ⦁ Wartortle--I considered giving Jasmine the lighthouse's Ampharos, but I feel like it's actually more impactful that she takes care of it if it's not her pokemon.  So we have Wartotle.  It's tanky, the ears kind of remind me of Jasmine's hair, and water covers steel's weaknesses to fire and ground.  I considered Corsola, but I worried its novelty might draw a little too much attention to it, compared to her comparatively familiar ace. ⦁ Steelix--Thought about swapping the ace for something that's not evolved from a previous gym leader's ace, but... nah.  Similar to Magnemite, Steelix's connection to gen I helps give the new steel type context.  I think it's a good pick.

Pryce

⦁ Sneasel--No mono-ice types in Johto either.  I could have kept the Dewgong, but I don't want a team too water heavy.  Besides, Pryce is supposed to be the "teacher of winter's harshness," and Sneasel is the embodiment of cutting ice cold winds. ⦁ Slowking--It's regal status and stately appearance make this a good fit for Pryce's vibe, plus its typing will help counter ice's weaknesses to rock, fire, and fighting. ⦁ Piloswine--Ace unchanged, no notes.

Clair

⦁ Dratini--Dragon is in the same boat as ghost once again, which is still a better boat than in Kanto.  And there are two major dragon trainers, so expect a lot of pokemon to get reused.  Anyway, Clair was real good at giving her dragons different type attacks, so Dratini can focus on electric. ⦁ Dragonair--Only two from this line, and they don't even have to be the same evolutionary stage.  I'd let this one focus on ice moves. ⦁ Gyarados--Thought about using a Charizard as her lancer, but Clair's ice queen aesthetic doesn't lend itself well to fire types.  There's a reason that in her original lineup, her wide array of moves does not include fire. ⦁ Kingdra--Ace unchanged, no notes.

As for the elite four/champion...

Will

⦁ Kadabra--No need to double Xatu when a mono-psychic type will cover its roll nicely. ⦁ Exeggutor--Will is already doing a great job with type diversity, we'll be keeping most of his picks. ⦁ Jynx-- Not much to say, I'm glad she has some psychic moves in this gen. ⦁ Noctowl--Will seems to like birds.  Noctowl has psychic moves, and while it's not as bulky as the Slowbro it's replacing, it still can fill a bit of a tank role here. ⦁ Xatu--Ace unchanged, no notes.

Koga

⦁ Venomoth--Didn't want two bug/poison.  Ariados fits the aesthetic better, but Venomoth offers more tactically that Koga doesn't otherwise have. ⦁ Tentacruel--Bringing this back from Kanto.  It's still a good fit for largely the same reasons. ⦁ Muk--Hey, I'm not the one who wrote Koga ditching his Weezing when he goes to the Elite Four.  Neither is as suited to be his ace as what he's bringing now, though, and I like Muk's vibes a little better than Weezing. ⦁ Forretress--I could have brought back the Magmar, but nah.  Foretress is already exactly what a lancer should be. ⦁ Crobat--Ace unchanged, no notes.

Bruno

⦁ Hitmontop--I could swap out some of these to give him more type diversity, but this is a case where the thematic benefits of having all three hitmons overshadow that. ⦁ Hitmonlee--Nothing new to say. ⦁ Hitmonchan--Nothing new to say. ⦁ Pinsir--Bringing this back not so much because I gave it to him in the Kanto league, but because I don't want Chuck and Bruno to both have rock lancers.  I think Graveler fits Chuck better than Onix fits Bruno, and Pinsir is a lot more threatening at this point in the game. ⦁ Machamp--Thought about Heracross here, but we'll let Chuck call dibs on that.  Machamp hits just a little harder and has just a little more physical bulk, and anyway I don't like to swap aces without a compelling reason.

Karen

⦁ Umbreon--Karen's team is pretty solid from where I'm sitting, I only want to make one change. ⦁ Murkrow--And this isn't it. ⦁ Sneasel--Here it is.  I don't NEED Karen to have every dark type in the game, but she has enough room on the team for it and I only want one pokemon for her lancer. ⦁ Vileplume--Listen, I love a good Gengar, but I think Vileplume is the more creative choice for the lancer.  Dark and ghost are very similar types, and while obviously I'm not opposed to pairing rock and ground or water and ice, highlighting the dark type with a night themed pokemon adds a little more flavor to her character. ⦁ Houndoom--Ace unchanged, no notes.

I'll be honest, I considered not doing Lance, or not doing him using the usual setup.  Champions often have diverse teams, so letting him have a bunch of vaguely dragon-like pokemon could have worked.  But he was established as a dragon trainer, both in gen I and throughout the game up to this point, so no sense changing him.

Lance

⦁ Dratini--Lance's larger team makes it harder to diversify, but we'll do what we can.  I'd say Dratini can focus on setup and status--light screen, thunder wave, that sort of thing. ⦁ Dragonair--For these next few I'd say focus on type coverage.  The first dragonair can bring in some fire moves. ⦁ Kingdra--The only other dragon type in the game, Kingdra can break up the onslaught of Dratini-line.  I'd say let this one have some ice moves to distinguish it from Clair's.  Or throw in rain dance to set up super accurate thunders from the next one. ⦁ Dragonair--This can be the electric Dragonair.  Again, if you must give it thunder, pair it with rain dance on either this or the Kingdra. ⦁ Aerodactyl--I was so tempted to give him Charizard.  But Aerodactyl gives Lance a physical attacker on a team dominated by special attackers. ⦁ Dragonite--Originally Lance's ace was a dragonite with fire blast, but its iconic move was the devastating outrage.  So focus on that, maybe mix in wing attack to give it a flying STAB and and let it throw in a hyper beam here or there.

I could stop there.  But, there's eight more gym leaders in the Johto games.  So we'll be back for those...

[theearthmagicguy]

Ah shit, uhhhhhhhhhh-

1. Name: Chris

2. Pronouns/Gender: He/him, cisboy

3. Sexuality: Bisexual

4. Country: USA

5. Top 5 Fandoms: Stuff I like? Monster Hunter, Cassette Beasts, Fighting Games, Ultrakill, Hi Fi Rush

6. Most Forbidden Snack: The inner plastic thing on the inside of the lid of those thermos looking energy drink cans. I keep fucking absentmindedly prying those out with my tongue and hafta make a physical effort to not put this death guaranteed choking hazard in my mouth.

7. Would You Pet a Bug: Maybe a beetle if it was chill. Nothing else though.

8. Share a Weird Fact/Story About Yourself With The Class: I was put in detention for half a school year when I was in first grade. I don't know why (but we've made some guesses over the years) I was and we switched schools after that. The first thing I saw the dude running it do was throw one of those combination desk/chair things which scared the shit outta me.

9. What's Blue Taste Like: Specifically the blue coconut flavoring Sonic uses. Or artificial raspberry.

10. Most Beautiful Thing You've Seen. Probably the mountains "near" where I live. I'd take trips back and forth through them to visit family before they moved back to my hometown, it gets you a nice view.

11. Stupidest Thing You've Done: I've got a big repository for that shit, but the one that sticks out to me right now is the time I managed to break my ceiling fan with some rope. I was a kid who had a bad habit of stealing food, so my mom got the bright idea to tie the main cabinet shut with some rope. So I got some rope. And I had to find a way to have fun with it. So my ceiling fan back then would already wobble at it's highest setting, but it'd wobble way more when I threw some rope at it to watch it launch it across the room. Eventually I threw it too close to the center of the fan and the whole thing came down. Then a couple months after the part of the ceiling just above my bed collapsed.

12. Stupidest Thing You've Heard/Seen Someone Else Do/Say: I had a warehouse job a couple years back where some dude tried to stop a forklift from crashing into a wall by using his foot. That was just before I started working there, and we got a lotta morning speeches dedicated to A) the danger of forklifts and B) how much you're not allowed to blame the company if you end up injured.

13. Hyperfixation Song: Various. I've got a habit of listening to songs multiple times a day for months on end. I guess the Altar of Apostasy track from Ultrakill is the song I've currently been listening to for the longest.

In terms of actual songs, I usually listen to mashups, so shit like Round and Round the Grapevine, Rollin A Thousand Miles, Basketflies, shit like that.

14. Is There Any Meaning Behind Your Profile Picture And/Or Username: Here we fucking go.

Okay, for the PFP, I'm a really fucking big fan of monster raising games. Taking something adorable and weak and raising it to attack and dethrone God. I blame it on watching my mom play Monster Rancher 4 when I was an impressionable young babby (great game btw). This is a Woolie (Rune Factory). This lil guys pretty much got the fact that he's adorable to run with. They can't fight that well, but as of Rune Factory 4 (best one gameplay wise) you can make them invincible powerhouses with time, care, and affection. And in Rune Factory 3, you can turn into a Woolie and perform nonstop infinite DDTs on enemies. No enemy is immune to your Potemkin Buster.

As for my username, I like earth magic. Geomancy. I feel like it's never gotten a fair shake in media cause it's either too hard to depict the sheer damage it can cause or because anyone who gives it any amount of thought realizes it's super busted and nerfs it in their story, and I feel like people sleep on just how fucking cool it is, especially if that poll I unleashed my manifesto on is anything to go on. It's fucking Disaster Magic. Apocalypse Magic. You got the power to destroy anything mankind has created, as it's either made of stone, anchored to the earth, or can't keepaway from the ground forever. You can cause earthquakes (and by extension tsunamis), volcanoes and other exciting magma flows, pull rocks towards earth, give people an early access demo of a developing sinkhole, create The Dustbowl 2: Revelations, avalanches, all sortsa shit. You can use it to make stuff too, islands, great fortresses, statues, rivers, lakes all sortsa shit. Geomancy lets you shape the world with your will. TO your will.

15. Dream Career As A Child: Game Dev.

16. Dream Career As An Adult: Something that'll pay me well enough to live by, not fuck me up permanently, and lemme do shit that I wanna do in life (such as developing a game).

17. Thoughts On Cilantro: Tastes great, I feel sorry for the folks who taste soap.

18. Have Ye Been Banned From A Location: Not yet.

19. What Is Your Cursed Food Combination: Don't fucking knock it, but there's this combination I always order from Dominos I call The Michelangelo. It's Pineapple, Jalapeños, Philly Steak, Sausage, and Bacon. If I remember correctly. Look, you're really just tryna get as many of the 5 flavor groups on the pizza as possible. And it's great.

20. Trans Rights: Of course.

I'll be back with some people I can tag.

@abbcube @hummerous @hunkledunk @textheslightlymorelimited @brandon-the-terrible @kayttle @demifiendcruithne @bronson4444the2nd @pissgargler @opposite-massive

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

[scalproie]

idw megs, i wanna hear ur thoughts 👀

Sometimes I feel you read my mind💖

favorite thing about them: So when I read mtmte/lost light I'm like. Wow. Megatron is such a great character and you really sympathize with him and his redemption arc is pretty cool and somewhat well-handled and even the simple fact that they're giving a redemption arc to MEGATRON of all characters is pretty daring on itself. Idw Megatron in general really makes you feel the tragedy of his character. And also he's looking very pretty thanks to his design by the very gifted Mr. Milne and later Mr. Lawrence.

least favorite thing about them: AND WHEN I STEP AWAY A BIT FROM MTMTE/LOST LIGHT I'M LIKE... ok so a big appeal of mtmte to me was how it was essentially a story about a bunch of nobodies, and unless you were a pretty big transformers fan to begin with, the main characters didnt really meant anything to you if you were a casual. You might knew Rodimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet, but they werent really... the transformers' most known characters, or the main ones. So bringing MEGATRON into the picture is like... he's A VERY BIG player in the cybertronian war, and he's like, the second or third most well known transformer, and suddenly the story has to resolve around him, because of course it does. Yknow that arc where the ticks that feeds on charisma just, spontaneously combust when he and roddy enters the room? That's it that's part of my problem, he's too big, he's a vortex of attention, and he just arrived so I don't really... care about him? And while that may change later because of his exposure, bringing him into the spotlight steals it from Rodimus, and it's extremely unfair to Roddy tho I'll admit I still have secondhand frustration about that. And then, it's not HIS fault per say, but because transformers will always hurt me when something good is going on, the rest of his development and ending (the ending of mtmte/lost light in general really) felt aborted and rushed because the reboot was on the horizon, and his redemption in particular really wasnt one to rush. Speaking of, I have no problem while reading it but. When I think about it, I am kinda :/ about him having a redemption on principle, it simultaneously feels like yeah the story succeded in selling it but also Not Really :/ :/ :/

favorite line: "I've heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering, and tonight I intend to make you very wise" because. come on.

brOTP: putting this in brOTP but I am not blind and I can see that he and Ultra Magnus/Minimus have A Vibe

OTP: I'm a very boring person who rarely multiship and I only like an extremely specific flavor of megop so. there you have it. you know I latched onto that one spacetime phonecall.

nOTP: I KNOW. I KNOW that if he had been ANYONE ELSE I would have NO PROBLEM with it I KNOW IT but there's something that simply prevent me from seeing him with Rodimus

random headcanon: okay it's been a hot minute since my last mtmte/lost light/idw re-reading so I'm kinda drawing a blank here.

unpopular opinion: he's very divisive so I feel every opinion on idw megatron is an unpopular one, but at the risk of repeating what I said above, I am kinda :/ :/ :/ at the fact that he gets to go on forever multi universal adventures with the rest of the cast at the end of the comics. Especially after the basically second chance at life he had in the functionist universe. Like, I get why but Idk I feel I wouldve enjoyed him more if he had been a temporary addition. But he was there for more than half of it and just. So much was dedicated to him. So. :/

song i associate with them: im so mad I KNOW there was a perfect idw megatron song but its been two years and I CANNOT remember it

favorite picture of them: panels that vibe check you into oblivion

[miminorenai]

Chapter 1

— The fruit of Underworld, pomegranate. *In mythology, the goddess who ate it unknowingly is destined to live in the land of the dead.

(*In Ancient Greek mythology, the pomegranate features prominently in the story of Persephone and her marriage to Hades, the god of the Underworld. Hades kidnapped Persephone and took her to the Underworld to be his wife. Persephone’s mother, Demeter, goddess of fertility, considering her daughter lost, went into mourning and thus all things on earth ceased to grow. Zeus, Persephone’s father, commanded his brother Hades to release her, however Hades had tricked her into eating six pomegranate seeds, and it was the rule of the Fates that anyone who consumed food or drink in the Underworld was doomed to spend eternity there. Since Persephone had eaten the six pomegranate seeds, she had to remain in the Underworld for six months of the year. Hades agreed to release her to the world above for the other six months of the year, to be reunited with her mother.

So, don’t let that person eat pomegranate fruit. For the sake of that person — so that he won’t be taken away to a place where the light of the ground doesn’t reach.

— The night of crescent moon that wandered into a mysterious mansion of the 19th century from the Louvre Museum of the 21st century. 

Someone in the room attacked MC and bit her on the neck......the dream she had was terribly vivid.

Prologue Chapter 7 (official translation)

MC “......Just like a vampire would.”

MC “Dreams can be so realistic, even when they’re about the most unbelievable things.”

Sebastian “......”

MC “Thanks for listening to my silly dream.”

MC “I hope you don’t think I’m crazy for dreaming about vampires.”

Sebastian “I don’t think you’re crazy, nor do I believe it was just a silly dream.”

MC “You don’t think it was silly?”

Sebastian “No. Indeed, it’s a good sign.”

MC “My bad dream is a good sign?”

Sebastian “I believe you saw that dream because you’re here in this mansion.”

MC “You’re not making sense.”

Sebastian “The dream serves as a warning.”

Sebastian “......That you are to give them neither your body nor your heart.”

MC “Them?”

Sebastian “The residents of this mansion. For you see, everyone you’ve met tonight —“

Sebastian “They are exactly what you saw in your dream. They are all vampires.”

— A month after Sebastian informed MC with a serious look.

(Tonight, Comte said the hourglass sand would completely drop.)

(It’s finally time to say goodbye to this mansion......)

Under the bright sunshine, MC stops drying the laundry and gazes at the mansion and garden fulls with blooming flowers.

The residents of the mansion are revived great men in history, and all of them are vampires.

MC was surprised when she heard that, but everyone accepted her, who was so anxious and bewildered.

(Before I know it, I’ve come to like this mansion so much that it feels lonely to bid my farewell.)

MC “After this, I won’t be able to take care of everyone or serving pancakes anymore.”

As MC feels helplessly lonely and loses in thought —

MC “......Ouch!”

Suddenly, MC is poked in the forehead and she immediately covers it with her hand.

Sebastian “You had a fluff on your head, so I brushed it off.”

(Sebastian......!)

MC “Thank you. Is there a dandelion somewhere in bloom?”

Sebastian “It’s a lie.”

MC “A lie?”

Sebastian “Stop being absent-minded, and please stretch the wrinkles of sheet properly.”

Sebastian “For quite a while, it feels like you’re flying to somewhere else, similar to a fluff.”

MC “Uu......I’m sorry.”

(He’s without restraint as ever......)

Sebastian is the only human among the residents of the mansion, and a Japanese who came from the same modern era as MC.

For the past month, MC has been helping him out as a colleague, and he’s considerably strict regarding his job.

MC “I’m really sorry. While thinking today is the last day I could help, I end up feeling sad.”

Sebastian “It’s certainly written all over your face.”

Sebastian lets out a small sigh without changing his expression.

Sebastian “Once you’re over with this, considered your job today is done.”

MC “Eh, but, I still have to prepare for dinner.”

Sebastian “Today is your last day in the mansion. You’ll need time to sort out your feeling.”

Sebastian “And tonight’s meal is special.”

MC “Special?”

Sebastian “It’s a dinner party to see you off, so I can’t let our guest of honor to help, right?”

(I am......the guest of honor......)

When MC blinks her eyes in surprise, Sebastian voice becomes softer......

Sebastian “For the past month, you’ve been trying your best in this unfamiliar world. Thank you for your hard work.”

(Sebastian......)

MC chest tighten hard to the tender words and the sign of farewell that shown through.

MC “I was able to do my best......thanks to Sebastian.”

Sebastian “Huh?”

MC “I......I knew nothing about this world, this mansion, the matter of living with all the vampires......”

MC “I had Sebastian to teach me that.”

Without Sebastian, MC might still be confined in her room in anxiety.

(I’m really glad Sebastian is my colleague.)

(That’s why, if I can work with Sebastian until today......I still want to work together.)

MC “I’m grateful for your consideration. But a job is still a job, so I want to finish it to the end.”

MC “More than anything, please let me help Sebastian.”

Sebastian “......”

Sebastian “What a good dedication. That’s exactly what I expected of my junior.”

With a sudden smile, Sebastian starts walking with an empty laundry basket.

Sebastian “Please follow me. Without holding anything back, I won’t let you cutting corners until the end.”

MC “*That’s what I want! By the way, have you decided on the dinner menu?”

(*望むところです - bring it on, just as I was hoping for

Sebastian “Yes. On top of grilled pork with mozarella cheese, we’re going to have wine braised beef tongue.”

Sebastian “There will also be saffron-flavored sea bream terrine, boiled rape blossoms with soy sauce, firefly squid with ponzu sauce and rich mango pudding.”

(The sense of Japanese-Western blending is amazing! But all those dishes mentioned before me are delicious.)

MC “I’m looking forward to it!”

With a smile, MC follows after Sebastian, who walks in dignified posture.

After that, she spends her last night with everyone in the mansion......

After the dinner party, the residents are gathered in front of the door to see MC off.

Napoleon “Mimi, take care of yourself even when you return to your original world.”

Mozart “You’re rather careless, so don’t fall over and get injured before you could arrive.”

Arthur “Hey, are you really going back? You haven’t go on a date with me yet.”

Theo “It’s a wise decision from hondje. If you go out with this guy, you’ll get eaten from the head in an instant.”

Dazai “Toshiko-san, please stay healthy without catching a cold when you go back.”

Isaac “Dazai actually said something unusual and decent. But yeah, be careful not to get sick.”

Jeanne “Yes, physical condition management is important at all times.”

Vincent “Mimi, I really enjoyed spending time with you.”

Leonardo “The coffee mia cara poured was pretty splendid, you know?”

Comte “It seems very lonely to part with Mimi when everyone is here to see her off.”

(That’s......for me......)

As MC covers her face when her eyes turn hot, Sebastian hands her over a handkerchief.

Sebastian “Mimi, this.”

MC “Sebastian......I’m sorry I’m such a handful colleague to the end.”

With the handkerchief she received, MC bows her head while holding back her eyes that moist with tears.

Sebastian “It’s not a colleague’s guidance. I don’t think I can leave you alone with such a face.”

(This is really the last time we could talk this way......)

(Since Comte is the only one who can come and go freely through this door.)

MC “I......I’m glad to meet everyone.”

Sebastian “Look, you’re tearing up again. Please wipe it firmly.”

Comte “Don’t hold back too much. I’ll send you off at Louvre Museum.”

MC “Please, Comte.”

(Let’s go back to the original world before I’m feeling even reluctant to part......)

Comte “Well then, I’ll open the door.”

Comte slowly opens the heavy door.

Beyond that —··· instead of the corridor MC went through a month ago, there’s a distorted space spread out.

(Eh......is it different from before?)

Everything is breathtaking, as the ominous light and darkness mixed together.

MC “......If I’m not mistaken, when I came here, I was lead to a dim corridor, right?”

Comte “Supposedly, since I came through that passage in 19th century.”

Comte “What in the world......it’s the first time the passage across space and time has disappeared.”

At the bizarre scene, Comte pulls MC back and hurriedly shuts the door.

Leonardo “Hey, Comte. What’s going on?”

Comte “I don’t know......but if we enter such space, I can’t predict which era it will drop us.”

(Then, I......)

Isaac “Like this, Mimi can’t go home then?”

Sebastian “......It will be for at least a month.”

Theo “The door that was closed once would open again a month later.”

A worried look from everyone tells MC the seriousness of the situation.

Comte “I’m sorry, Mimi. I’ll look into the cause.”

Comte “So can you stay in this mansion for a while?”

MC “...Yes......”

MC squeezes out her trembling voice and manages to hold it.

(I didn’t know such thing would take place......I wonder what will happen after this.)

The next day, MC begins to live in the mansion again, and she’s still working as Sebastian’s assistant.

MC “Sebastian, I’ve finished washing the dishes. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

Sebastian “Thank you for your hard work. That’s all for today’s work.”

Sebastian, who silently polishes antique silver tableware, look as calm as ever even in this situation.

MC “......Something unexpected has happened.”

MC “The truth is, I shouldn’t be here anymore, and yet......”

(The surprise was bigger yesterday, but it gradually sinks in.)

(There is a possibility I could never go back to the world I thought I could return......)

When MC thinks to that extent, she get scared again and almost get swallowed up by anxiety.

Sebastian “I’m happy to work with you again.”

MC “Huh......”

Sebastian “It’s good to have manpower. Above all, you’re an excellent junior.”

(Ah, is that what he means?)

Sebastian smiles with a composed look much like a butler.

Sebastian “I’m sure you’ll find the solution, since everyone in the mansion and I are here for you.”

Sebastian “And also, did you forget? This is a rare situation where the great men of history are all gathered.”

Sebastian “There’s no impossible letters in this mansion’s dictionary.”

MC “Haha......”

MC reflexively smiles and feels less anxious.

(Right, let’s just not thinking only about the time I couldn’t return.)

(As Sebastian says, I’m not alone, and it would be all right since everyone is there.)

MC “Thank you very much. I feel uneasy, but now I’m going to try my best with my life in the mansion.”

Sebastian “That’s a fine dedication.”

Seeing Sebastian narrows his calm eyes, a question suddenly pops out in MC’s mind.

MC “Come to think of it, Sebastian has been here for a long time, don’t you?”

Sebastian “Yeah, time passed in the blink of an eye.”

MC heard that Sebastian, unlike the other great men, came to the mansion as Comte’s scout and became a butler.

(In other words, he hasn’t return to the original world since then.)

MC “Sebastian......have you ever missed your home and thought of wanting to go back to the present-day?”

Sebastian “......”

Sebastian “No. Placing myself among history is something I couldn’t hope for.”

Sebastian “I — since I abandoned this world myself.”

MC gets confused by his indifferent reply.

(What do you mean by throwing it away......? What’s the matter with your family and friends?)

(But......perhaps it’s something that he didn’t want to touch much.)

MC “I’m sorry for the sudden question. Errr......that’s it, I think I should keep the kitchen tidy!”

The moment MC put her foot on the stepladder and reaches out to a high place to beat the awkwardness —

MC “Kya!”

She loses her balance and her body slants a lot. 

(I’m going to fall......!)

Sebastian “Mimi......!”

(Huh?)

Sebastian “······——”

As soon as MC body is caught, something brushes against her lips.

Something that is warm and soft ···—

(Just now......)

When MC raises her face in the sudden moment, their gazes are entangled at a distance where Sebastian’s nose is sticking close to hers.

MC • Sebastian “......”

While both of them falling down to the floor, they stare at each other without looking away.

(Just now, Sebastian and I......)

They might have kissed —

The moment MC realized it, the heat gathered on her face.

(How careless of me......!)

(But Sebastian......)

The body that has been pinned under, the arm that surrounds MC’s back......

It looks slender and firm with the feels of masculine.

MC strangely conscious of the warmth that touches her without a gap, and Sebastian’s eyes which’s reflecting her......

Sebastian “Mimi —“

[devotedwrites]

He liked her. The demeanor alone when she stepped into the kitchen, and started to put in her two cents about the restaurant. James he possessed the technical work, he could put everything in order to make this kitchen appear, and run as if it was a Michelin star restaurant. He couldn’t connect, couldn’t change the chemistry of kitchen’s attitude, and it was becoming more evident to himself that taking over his brother restaurant-his legacy was causing doubtful thoughts to plague his mind.

Twenty minutes purely was dedicated to observing. His methods weren’t anything near the experiences of high class fine dining restaurants that he endured. Especially at Le Bernardin, the three Michelin star French cuisine restaurant in Midtown. Le Bernardin was the restaurant that chefs would kill to even step foot into the pristine kitchen. James wasn’t hovering over her every choice, and verbally abusing the crap out of her like he had experienced. Rather he stepped back, gave space to let a sort of comfortability form in the environment to allow her-and well him to see the full ability of her craft. He appreciated the meticulous nature she exhibited, clearly had culinary training with the techniques he observed, and the ability to maintain a clean work space.

No words had uttered from his lips during those twenty minutes, just a silent appreciation, as you could only imagine how refreshing it was for him to have of chef of her caliber in his kitchen. He stepped forward as he watched her finish up with a pride in her work. As she spoke, his full attention been directed onto her, his eyes steadfast onto her, and fully absorbed into her explanations of the choices she made to elevate the sandwich. Seemed more like a secret talent, but he could pick up on the nerves. The pause between her words, and collecting herself was all he needed to see it. How he could nitpick it so quickly was because that use to be him. “The previous owner Mikey-“ he turned his direction to the sandwich sitting on the station, taking it in presentation wise. “The guy whole shtick starting this place was to focus on those bold classic flavors.” He reached over to the corner of the station where a black knife sheath sat, and with a swift movement unraveled it. A knife set of the Kikuchi cutlery brand one of the most expensive set ups not one you’d ever imagine in a rinky dinky restaurant like The Beef. “I know it’s a staple, but-“ he made a vertical cut straight down the middle splitting the sandwich into two halves.

Grabbing onto one half of the sandwich he brought it up to his mouth, and took a bite of it before setting it back down. “This.” He snapped his fingers, and pointed down to the sandwich she crafted excellently. “This is what I wanna give people. Keep those staples that everyone knows, and loves; but I elevate the way you did chef.” His compliments were completely genuine as he spoke with a passion for this subject. “It’s a perfect balance Chef.” Flashing her a quick smile, before dropping back to the neutral expression. “Some advice. You gotta trust learn to trust your instincts. The nerves never go away, but you got somethin goin on here Chef. You got the potential here.” Pointing his finger into the counter as a soft thud came from the station as he did. “Just gotta remind yourself that when those nerves start winning, you know?”

His eyebrows furrowed more, and more as he continued to speak giving her his two cents. Wanting to make his point across that he genuinely could see the potential, and wanted her to know it. Even though a part of him had convinced himself, that she more than likely thought he was some line cook bum.

“James Valdez. I’m the new owner of The Beef.” Feeling it was about time he introduced himself. He was gonna go with his gut on this one, and take this a sigh from the universe throwing him a bone after the whole shit with Mikey. “How well Verse are you in the brigade de cuisine?” Flavor profile he knew just from the sandwich she was match, but last part of his checklist was if knew the technical aspects to maximize kitchen proficiency.

“How’d you change things up if you were chef de cuisine?” The curiosity getting the best of him. Which more often than not it usually did for James. He already had his own thoughts, and actions in place to start maximizing efficiency within the staff, and he was curious to hear if she’d have a similar thought process to his own. Of course if she chose to even answer his questions. Mean you’re invited into the kitchen of one of your favorite local spots, by some random ass guy, to make a sandwich which he knew very well she wasn’t serious about actually making to begin with. Now? Now he’s asking questions as if it been some job interview. There would be absolutely no shock if she booked it out that door within a blink of an eye.

Plot: Based off the show ‘The Bear’. James is a award winning chef despite his young age. After his brother untimely self inflicted death, he leaves his run down, inner city staple of a restaurant too James. In which James gives up the straight path to becoming a world class chef, and takes over the restaurant his brother left him. Where he’s now looking for a Sou chef to help him turn the place around.

Muse: James Valdez. (26, heterosexual, gives charismatic line cook energy, but hot headed when things aren’t going his way. With a sprinkle of that family Trauma.)

Connections: Sou Chef applicant, close friend, ex girlfriend (if you wanna go crazy, and make something work), Customer, really anything you want. Romantic only F. Open to platonic.

@indiestarter

James Valdez, you’d see him on Top 100 newest chefs articles, and was really beginning to make a name for himself. That was before his brother unfortunate death, and left James a shit hole of a restaurant in his name. Where James dropped the fast track of becoming a world renown chef, and took over the restaurant that ate money more than it has ever made.

The stress that came taking over this dump, and trying to find Sou Chef that actually wanted to change this place around with him for well barely any money in return. Was reasonably a disaster.

Stepping out the back down, shoving the door back a bit harder than he had intended as he stepped into the alley after trying to get the staff to clean the kitchen. He let out a heavy sigh, running his calloused hands down his face, before he patted down in his jeans pocket, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes along with his trusty green lighter. One he was superstitious about ever letting anyone touch or use. Flickering the gear about once or twice. Before lighting it up, and taking a drag off of it. The exhale almost sounded like a sigh of relief, feeling it burn the back of his throat.

His dark brown eyes wandered through the alley, before they narrowed making out a figure that he couldn’t make out from the blinding sun.

“Hey!” His voice raised with his New York accent prominent. “Restaurant is closed for the day.” He’d been taking this one day at time. As today was about having the kitchen to standards, and getting it cleaned. Plus ‘interviews’ for a Sou Chef if he could ever find one for this dump. “it’ll be open tomorrow.” The last part was muttered as the cigarette was between his lips once again.

[cinanamon]

nct dream’s hogwarts house analysis

I decided to make this because I’ve had opinions on their houses for years and there are some specific moments that I’ve had in mind for my reasoning, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to spill my two cents with links when necessary! In this essay I will discuss from my point of view what things they’ve done/parts of their personalities that place them in their specific hogwarts house. this is based off of my observations and opinions, but feel free to hit up my ask box to talk about it!

word count | 2.5K

MARK — GRYFFINDOR

this shouldn’t really surprise anyone, should it? Mark has been in the spotlight of nct for a long time: nct 127, nct u, nct dream, super m—he’s an ace.

And though sometimes he may act shy or serious, overall he’s very confident, esp. in himself. That self-assurance is what places him in Gryffindor. Yes, he’s also hardworking and ambitious and smart, but when you look at him, you can’t help but be charmed by his confidence in his own skin; even if he’s awkward or nervous, it’s what shines through the most.

On stage when he’s performing, he’s very focused and honestly just feeling himself; his fortitude is admirable for the simple fact that he doesn’t seem bothered to have all eyes on him, but this self-confidence is intrinsic, for the most part. Remember that one time backstage he said “don’t be nervous” to the camera? He’s incredibly self-reliant and doesn’t need a lot of outside assurance. (x) (x)

He’s also a very chivalrous kind of guy who looks out for his members and is very open and friendly, like a Gryffindor. They’re the kind of people to stick up for others, which I personally believe mark wouldn’t hesitate to do. (He’s also a Christian which I want to suggest that, since he’s strong in his faith, he probably also tries to follow the word of the Bible on being a good person. Just a thought). (x)

Other than that, he’s also just a very outgoing person and I think his overall demeanor fits Gryffindor rather well. He’d probably laugh loudly in the dining hall with his friends, help the first years around (mostly likely a Perfect), and he’d stick up for the quieter kids, no matter their house. He gives me Harry Potter + Oliver Wood vibes.

RENJUN — RAVENCLAW

this was kind of close not going to lie; he was almost Slytherin. But even though he can be rather snarky with good comebacks, a Ravenclaw can do the same. After all, Ravenclaws are known for their wit and Renjun has many many funny comments and witty banter. (x)

ultimately I put Renjun in Ravenclaw because he is very very wise. He’s had that “pure boy” imagine clouding him but underneath, he is young, yes, but he has a lot of knowledge. He gives good advice, is very talented on many things (possibly due to research), and actually makes for a good mentor sometimes.

I want to talk about the wisdom thing very quickly though. There’s one reply to a fan he did where he made amazing comparisons and addressed the issue very thoughtfully; when someone is willing to take the time to think about an issue very seriously to give the best advice possible, I can only imagine him as a Ravenclaw. (x)

He is also very independent and self-assured like Mark, but there is a difference: I believe Mark’s stems from natural confidence while Renjun’s stems from introspection. Do you remember when asked which idol he wanted to be, and he said he wanted to be himself with his own path? That was, again, a very thoughtful response, and a very wise and intelligent thing to say which rounds out my upper two points. I think everyone really admired him for saying that after. (x 4th pic)

Renjun is also a very creative and artsy/crafty person (likes to paint) which places him in Ravenclaw as well. I can see Renjun sketching away during class, doing well when debating with students (who may have just wanted to mock him), and being professors’ favorite because of his wit/wisdom and good grades. (x)

JENO — HUFFLEPUFF

Again this shouldn’t be a surprise. I think Jeno fits everything Hufflepuffs stand for: honestly, kindness, fairness, loyalty, patience, and hard work. He is legit an angel.

To start it off, Jeno is very patient. Though he teases the other members sometimes, he take a good brunt of their jokes. He took being called “no fun/nojam” in stride and went along with it, and even with his asmr videos, plenty of the members would be very loud to mess with him. You could tell by his face he wasn’t too pleased, but he smiled through it and didn’t get very mad at them. (x) (x)

Jeno is also a very welcoming, open, and kind individual. He cares for his friends a lot and tries very hard to make sure they’re comfortable, even if it ends up putting himself at a disadvantage. Esp with his “angelic” persona, he just makes a very good, loyal friend.

Jeno is very hard working and talented as well. He does other dance videos, an asmr channel/videos, and acts as a host for shows. Even though these may be solo activities/work, he has consistently been cheery and patient and attentive for each and all. (x) (x) (x)

Last of all, have you seen this man smile? He can warm the darkest of days? He instantly brightens a room and I’m sure at hogwarts he would be a school favorite, kind to everyone, help out in the library or cleaning classrooms, and having the strongest plants in herbology class because of how much care he gave them. Jeno belongs in Hufflepuff.

DONGHYUCK — SLYTHERIN

This also shouldn’t be nothing new lol! I think Hyuck is a great example of a Slytherin tbh, in a more...immature way? Like not demeaning towards others, but his way of acting and treating others has a flair of drama, if that makes sense? Not necessarily in a bad way, but he is considered more “high maintenance” because he himself said he can be clingy/annoying to the other members. (x)

Haechan is “full-sun” because he’s funny, loud, bright, playful, and as I said he’s more dramatic/extra and makes a show of pouting and being (mock)petty. I think the way he treats his friends is peak Slytherin behavior because if you remember how he mocked mark on dream vs dream saying mark didn’t care about him/he didn’t care about mark? That kind of “self-centered” humor seems very Slytherin. (x) (x)

Esp in terms of purebloods, Slytherins are very sure of themselves and Hyuck is no exception to being cocky. He thinks he’s hot shit sometimes, whether he thinks he’s looking hot or dancing well and he doesn’t disguise his expressions. Even during dance practices, he makes sure to smirk at the camera and his movements/expressions practically scream that he’s feeling himself. And, quite honestly, it’s part of his charm, and it makes him hard to resist. (x) (x)

Hyuck is very clever, and even when he loses he doesn’t seem to think he did, or he doesn’t count it as a loss. As a Slytherin, his self-confidence is very high like a Gryffindor, but it’s more proud and sly. Hyuck isn’t afraid to cheat/bend the rules (which Slytherins are known to do) and, since Slytherins are self-preserving, he’s very cunning and careful in how he acts/play his cards to get what he wants, such as pretending to cry as he went to Johnny on weekly idol. (x)

Even with these attributes, Haechan is still a good, caring, loyal individual and he isn’t a stranger to doubt or sensitivity, that’s not what I’m saying through this. His “Slytherin” traits aren’t all he is/defining, but they are strong enough to classify him. At hogwarts, I can imagine Hyuck sneaking through the secret passageways after curfew to snack on the every-flavor-jellybeans, he’d play light pranks on the other dreamies, and he’d be a jokingly arrogant quidditch player.

JAEMIN — SLYTHERIN

I feel like this is potentially controversial because I personally can see Jaemin in every house because he has a shifting persona and vibe depending on the circumstances, and no one part of him sticks too much.

Firstly I’d like to say that I don’t think Jaemin is an extrovert, so I wouldn’t say Gryffindor or Hufflepuff as my first choice since one of their main points is to help others/socialize/be outgoing. Not to say he couldn’t be in these houses, but he would definitely need to recharge. My point being is that Jaemin is a very cute, funny, caring individual and is sometimes very loud/energetic��we’ve seen how he interacts with the members. But he’s said himself he needs to recharge, he tends to stick in his room a lot/get serious at the dorms, and I think it’s because he exerts so much energy to uphold a persona for the camera, and I’ve always thought this. You can tell in vlives or interviews too that he gets quiet and contemplative, which has me think Slytherin (or Ravenclaw) for his maturity and seriousness when allowed to be himself. Not to say that Jaemin isn’t happy or naturally funny/caring, but I think he exaggerates a lot for the fans and he burns out quickly. (x)

We know that Jaemin thinks about quitting school to be an idol a lot, and by choosing sm he was ambitious in his pursuit of singing. Yes, every nct dream member had to give it up, but from how much he talks about it, I think it still bothers him. But by pushing through to be an idol, we can see his goal-oriented choices and dedication poke through, making him a Slytherin, even though it cost him potential friendships and a normal life. This also adds into the Slytherin self-preservation because he weighed his options to determine the best outcome for himself (also goes with hesitation=introversion). (x)

We know Jaemin is caring and can become very energetic/cute (for the camera) such as performing aegyo or teasing the members, but I feel like he’s very resourceful and sneaky about the way he does it? He seems to know exactly what will embarrass the members and uses it to his advantage, without any sense of doubt or bashfulness. He is also similar to Hyuck, in that regard, about being clingy/cute/annoying to the other members (when he is feeling energetic) and he also can be jokingly petty/complaining to the members and I think he takes pride/joy from embarrassing/annoying the members too, which is more of a Slytherin-friendship thing than any other house imo. (x)

I think if Jaemin went to Hogwarts, he’d be quite popular and well-liked but I always imagined him as not having many close friends and sometimes even being in the background even though he’s so well-known. I think he’d like and need a lot of alone time in the library/astronomy tower/owl sanctuary, but he’d have a lot of situational/class friends. Like Chenle too, I think he would also aid in changing the stereotype that Slytherins are all mean. I actually always wanted to write a long fic for him because he kind of gives me Draco vibes, but we’ll have to see. (And I can elaborate more on the Draco/Jaemin thing if you’d like to send an ask!)

CHENLE — SLYTHERIN

I already know some people are going to fight me on this, but hear me out!! Yes, Chenle is a very kind, bright, helpful person, but that doesn’t strictly place him in Hufflepuff: those personality traits aren’t necessarily only one house. So Chenle can be a bright and bubbly person in Slytherin just as well.

So first of all, Chenle is highly ambitious. He likes to win, he likes to progress, he likes to do well, and he’s not afraid to cheat or bend the rules to get his way (which is very un-Hufflepuff who believe in fairness even though his hard work/determination is (because it’s misplaced)). In one interview, all of the members ratted Chenle out for not accepting defeat by refusing to agree when he lost/said it wasn’t fair. And in dream v. dream with Jaemin, he made the game unfair because he asked a question he didn’t even know the answer to (not maliciously, I’m sure, but still unfair). (x) (x)

If you also remember the game nct played where if you smiled you lost, Chenle was very happy to be winning and was cunning like a Slytherin to get there. Though it was cute and fun, it didn’t change the fact that Chenle wanted to “advance” and was focused on the prize much like a Slytherin would. (x)

On top of that, we have to remember that Chenle has been in the entertainer game the longest. From a very young age, he’s sung and played instruments and been the object of media’s attention. This gives me “pureblood” vibes because he’s almost an old-money who is used to the amount of attention. Also please just assess his vibes when he’s not smiling. (x) (x)

Again, I would just like to reiterate that Chenle is a very bright and kind and funny person so it makes sense based on those traits to put him in Hufflepuff, but it’s his goal-oriented actions that place him in Slytherin, and his house shouldn’t impact his personality. I think it’d be cool to see a bright Slytherin walking down the hall and greeting other houses with a smile, playing games with the Gryffindors, studying on the hill with Hufflepuffs, and overall destroying the stereotype that Slytherins are all evil.

JISUNG — GRYFFINDOR

I was also considering Hufflepuff because Jisung is so sweet and hardworking, but I ultimately chose Gryffindor because he had a lot of potential to be an ace like Mark. He has a natural kind of charisma, though it takes him longer to warm up.

is not super loud or confident, but neither was Neville, was he? Jisung can still be “awkward” but so can anyone, and it seems to only be with strangers. He has a sense of humor and charm to him, and he had a willingness to be outgoing once he’s comfortable. (x)

I’d like to point off his stage presence and confidence when performing real quick. When Jisung is dancing, he gets in the zone and when he focuses, nothing can stop him. That kind of self-assurance and determination places him in Gryffindor. Even when he did the “Lemon” dance, it took bravery to create the video and post it. He just seems to be a little shyer with recognition. (x) (x)

There’s also something about dorky behavior that seems so Gryffindor? Jisung constantly does different hand motions, gen z vibes, cute smiles—it seems so make him charming and it really makes someone stick out and seem true to themselves (which takes confidence). (x)

So overall I can see Jisung as a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff but I settled on the former because of his vibes and potential! He’d be the type to play with the mythical creatures after class, to hide out in the back of the library (to study and snack), and for older classmates to be unable to resist messing up his hair (bc he’s so genuine and wholesome). I really think he’d grow a lot while in Gryffindor.

[thatonebjp]

Alright, some more custom card changes.

Edward felt a bit underwhelming to me, so I made his abilities also trigger when you cast a spell of the fitting color, in addition to when they usually triggered. (Maybe should've made him cost 1 more to make up for him being stronger, but I didn't think of that until now lol)

I made Hugh untap himself when attacking alone instead of getting first strike, because that feels like it makes much more sense for the character.

Gave both Infir and Ramon one extra toughness... Just felt like it, I dunno

I knew I'd have to give Darce dedication flavor wise, but I'd also have to get rid of one of the abilities to actually make room for that. So I got rid of that final effect and gave him lifelink, vigilance, and DOUBLE DEDICATION. To synergize with that dedication, I also made his other ability do something whenever counters get removed from any permanent instead of just opponents', and affect every player. Because of how strong that potentially gets, I also made him cost 2 more and bumped him back up to a Mythic Rare, reflecting Alexis.

Talking of Alexis, I made it so their ability draws you cards each time it triggers instead of just the first time each turn. they're a mythic rare, better make them stronger than weaker.

I let Ormar's ability draw you a card in addition to scrying. Also made the last ability optional. Moved him up from rare to mythic as well.

Also made Godly Insight cost 1 more, and made it not apply to artifacts.

Finally, I also took the cantrips away from the second cycle of adventures. I made adjustments to some of the cards, but the white and black ones have the biggest changes, the white one now giving you food tokens instead of straight up healing, which felt like it makes more sense, and the black one now having a debuff that can help you kill something with the Assassin while having it survive.

[m1smatched-starsigns]

☀️ Hollyleaf?

How about a Hollystar AU to brighten your day? Also, somehow this turned more into a one-shot than a brief fic description and I’m so sorry for that... Hollyleaf is just too good!

Lionblaze has already watched his sister die once, and he refuses to do it again. When he sees Hollyleaf tense to trade her life for Ivypool’s, Lionblaze beats her to it. The fatel blow kills him, and in an act of vengeance, Hollyleaf kills Hawkfrost.

When the battle is over and it’s time for Brambleclaw to choose his deputy, his eyes are drawn to the she-cat he once believed was his daughter. There was a point when Brambleclaw believed that Hollyleaf was meant to carry on the legacy of her grandfather — as a matter of fact, it was Firestar who first mentioned it.

“It’s like she was born for it,” Firestar uttered, emerald eyes soft as he watched his granddaughter across camp. Brambleclaw agreed then; he still does now.

Because maybe Hollyleaf was not born with the power of the stars in her paws, but the Silverpelt shines in her emerald eyes and this was her purpose all along.

He picks Hollyleaf as his deputy. Nobody is as shocked as she is, and wow, is it a controversial decision. At first Hollyleaf can not accept this and urges him to choose someone else (“Whitewing, Hazeltail, Brackenfur!”). But Brambleclaw is adamant: Hollyleaf will be his deputy.

In the end, she reluctantly accepts the honor. At least until she can convince him that he’s made the wrong decision.

The problem is... Hollyleaf steps into the role like it was crafted specifically for her. Despite her moons in the tunnels, she knows her Clanmates well and her heart has never once stopped beating for ThunderClan. She sorts patrols with natural organization; she sets a work ethic that the young cats can look up to; and she has a solution for every problem presented.

Except for the one that glares her in the face. She knows her Clanmates well, and she knows that many of them think her unfit for the position.

“What’s she going to do when someone speaks against her at a Gathering?” Thornclaw demands. “Send then floating down the river like Ashfur?”

Blossomfall eyes her. “She snapped once before. Whose to say she won’t do it again?”

“Firestar’s blood isn’t everything,” Spiderleg snorts.

They have a right to their opinions, and although they sting, Hollyleaf knows she can convince them otherwise with hard work and dedication (and maybe some favoritism when it comes to sorting the dawn patrols).

She doesn’t have a solution for one problem, though. There are five cats she used to be the close to, and now she doesn’t know how to look them in the eye.

“Just talk to them,” Bramblestar encourages her. His eyes are drawn to Squirrelflight. “Sometimes, that’s all they’re waiting for.”

So she starts there, with Squirrelflight.

“I have a problem,” she tells her that evening, surprising Squirrelflight by the fresh-kill pile. “I don’t know these new warriors like you do, and I think I’m mishandling them a bit. Can you give me the inside scoop on Blossomfall, Bumblestripe, and Dovewing?”

Squirrelflight is surprised by her question, but complies willingly. She gives Hollyleaf insight to the younger warriors and how to get the best out of them, and her adivce isn’t the most practical, but it makes perfect sense. It isn’t long before conversion flows smoothly, and with every new word, Hollyleaf thinks that they will be okay.

She tackles Leafpool next. Truthfully she should have come before Squirrelflight, but the posionues scent of death berries clogs her senses when she looks at her mother. But maybe after they talk, that will change too.

She waits until Jayfeather is busy, then walks quietly into the Medicane Cat Den. “I see you’re running low on comfry,” she meows. “If you want some company gathering more... I did train as a medicane cat for a moon.”

Leafpool smiles at her, soft and gentle, and it makes Hollyleaf’s heart ache. Why did she hold a grudge against her mother for so long? Why did she refuse to let those smiles reassure her for so long? What else has she missed out on?

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Leafpool tells her firmly, when she voices as much. “We have all the time in the world to make up for it. That is, if you want to?”

Yes, Hollyleaf says. She wants to.

That’s two down, two more to go. She figures that Cinderheart and Mousewhisker won’t be much different from each other, so she approaches the cat who is only a fox-length away from her.

“Hi. Can I share that thrush with you?”

Cinderheart blinks, then pushes her meal towards her. “Uh, sure.”

Hollyleaf settles down and takes a bite of the thrush, and the warm flavor is a nice contrast to the awkwardness between the kithood friends. “Oh! I didn’t realize it’s been so long since I had a thrush.”

“You can have the rest,” Cinderheart meows. “I’m not very hungry anyway.” She goes to stand up but Hollyleaf can’t let her leave, so she blurts something out.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. Patient, compassionate Cinderheart stares at her like she’s grown a second head. “Am I doing okay?” She echos.

Hollyleaf tried not to cringe. “I just mean... I know you and Lionblaze became close after I... disappeared. Are you okay?”

She almost wishes she didn’t ask. The words hurt to speak aloud, and judging by the way that Cinderheart can’t look at her now, they must hurt to hear. It strikes Hollyleaf that her old friend doesn’t seem to finish any of her meals lately.

She shrugs. “As good as can be expected, I guess. He died a warrior’s death. The Clan will honor his memory for seasons.”

What does she say to that? Cinderheart isn’t wrong, and pressing her about it doesn’t seem like a wise decision.

Hollyleaf wants to say, “I know how you’re feeling right now,” but the truth is that she doesn’t know. The future that Cinderheart would have shared with Lionblaze is vastly different than the one she would have shared with him.

Hollyleaf thinks about Mousewhisker. She closes her eyes and focuses. One cat at a time.

“Do you remember when he swore that he could fish, and ended up falling in the river?” Hollyleaf asks. Just thinking about the memory touches a smile to her lips.

It has a similar effect on Cinderheart. “He looked much smaller once he was soaked to the bone,” Cinderheart meows, smiling slightly. “What about the time when he thought he was a better tracker than Berrynose?”

They go back and forth like that for a long time, just sitting there exchanging stories about the cat who meant very different things to both of them, yet still meant so much. By the time the dusk patrols roll around, Cinderheart doesn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

“Hey,” Hollyleaf meows, “do you want to lead a hunting patrol with me?”

Cinderheart smiles at her like she’s an apprentice again, and Hollyleaf can check another cat from her list.

Mousewhisker is next. After doing this three times already Hollyleaf thought this would be easy, but Mousewhisker fills her with a different sense of guilt.

She approaches him hesitantly, but musters some of that deputy confidence that comes naturally to her now. “Hey. Want to go hunting with me?”

Mousewhisker stares right through her like she isn’t even there. “No thanks, deputy.”

So it’s going to be like that, then.

Hollyleaf narrows her eyes and says, “I wasn’t actually asking. Come on. We’re hunting together.”

Mousewhisker looks like he wants to challenge her, but then he just shrugs and gestures for her to lead the way. Hollyleaf suspects he isn’t surrendering — more like he’s giving her the silent treatment.

Her suspicions are confirmed once they’re in the forest and she tries to strike up a conversation, and he only responds with gestures and grunts. Hollyleaf is rapidly loosing her patience.

You’ve changed, she finally tells him. It is not a compliment.

So have you, he replies. It is not a compliment.

Why are you making this so difficult, she asks him.

This time Mousewhisker looks at her and just for a moment, he sees her. “I still haven’t forgiven you for dying the first time,” he says. “Twice? You’re pushing your luck.”

Hollyleaf blinks. He’s referring to her disappearance, and... then what? “I didn’t die a second time.”

Mousewhisker pushes past her. “That’s what you think.” He leaves her standing there, confused. Somehow she has hurt Mousewhisker in ways she doesn’t understand.

One day, if he will let her, she will.

It’s not an encouraging note to end on, but she can’t push it off any longer. She only has one brother now, but if she wastes anymore time then she’s going to lose him too.

Jayfeather has always been one to hold grudges, so she gets starts off with, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

She wonders if he will give her the silent treatment as well, but it’s been almost a moon since the battle was won and Jayfeather has had plenty of time to ignore her.

His head snaps up and he asks, “What? You mean the fact that Lionblaze took your place so that you could become deputy?”

Hollyleaf frowns. “Don’t talk like I planned this, Jayfeather. I didn’t.”

Jayfeather glares at her, like he can see her more clearly than Mousewhisker could. “No, it just worked out perfectly for you.”

“That’s not-“

“You get to disappears in the tunnels and sulk while Lionblaze and I have to deal with everyone’s stares. Stares that you directed toward us!”

“As if I-“

“Then you get to come back and act like some big hero, humbled by experiences you never had, and you expect everyone to just let you back where you left off!”

“Stop!” Hollyleaf growls. “You don’t know what you’re-“

“And then Lionblaze sacrifices himself for you, and you become deputy, and you never miss a step. No one can stop talking about what a hero you are, about how you’re going to usher ThunderClan into its next golden era, and it’s like none of you can remember who was supposed to stand in your paws; Lionblaze didn’t disappear when we needed him! He never skipped a patrol, he never hid during a battle. He deserved to be deputy, not you!”

Hollyleaf opens her mouth with a fierce retort on her tongue... but then she closes it again. She can’t argue with him, not when— “I know.”

Jayfeather’s whiskers are quivering. “What.”

Hollyleaf holds his blind gaze. “I agree with you. I tried to tell Bramblestar as much when he first made me deputy, remember?” She swallows. “Jayfeather, I think about Lionblaze every single day. Trust me, if I could go back to the battle and take his place then I would.”

“Don’t say that,” Jayfeather immediately snaps. His temper cools quickly and his shoulders slump, like he hasn’t slept in moons. “I don’t... there was a time when I thought you were dead and Lionblaze was all I had. He was such a strong warrior that I thought for sure I would be his medicine cat. I thought we would work together for many moons.”

He looks at her again. “I missed you when you were gone. Did I ever tell you that?”

Hollyleaf tells him, Once.

“I should tell you more often. I really missed you. Lionblaze and I both did. And I’m so grateful that you’re alive, but this is never where I thought we would be. With Lionblaze dead and you as deputy.” He scrapes the ground with a claw. “I suppose I sound selfish.”

Only a bit, Hollyleaf tells him. But she understands. She wasn’t a prophecy cat. It’s different and sad.

Jayfeather nods. “Just... give me time, alright? I’ll grieve and move on and adjust. I’ll be fine.”

Maybe if Hollyleaf were one of the Three, she would be enough to comfort Jayfeather. But he shares a bond with Lionblaze and Dovewing that she will never be able to understand, even if she is his only littermate now. She was gone for too long, she missed too much—

The sting of Not Being Enough is still there, like she only learned the truth a day ago.

Sure, Hollyleaf tells Jayfeather. She can give him time.

As it turns out, time heals what talking can not.

Her relationships with her parents are stronger than ever. Her friendship with Cinderheart is repaired and rebuilt, and they regularly go hunting together like they are apprentices again.

It took a few moons, but eventually Mousewhisker warmed up to her again. The Dark Forest changed him, but the tunnels changed her. Neither of them are the same young warrior they used to be. They are able to bond over that, and then they are able to love again. (Although she did have to order him to spend time with her to get to that point.)

Jayfeather was right when he said he needed time to heal and adjust. Everyday he wasn’t ready to accept her new position in his life hurt her, but over the following days, it became easier and easier for him. Now they were as close as they had ever been — maybe even closer, because Clan leader and medicine cat work very closely with each other.

Bramblestar’s reign was one of recovery and rebuilding, but he never seemed to be able to push ThunderClan into their new golden era.

That was Hollystar’s job, now.

Hollystar, she thinks, as she watches over her the Clan — Her Clan. That was a name she used to dream hearing, and then she refused to think it, and now she has accepted it.

Bramblestar faced much during his reign, and though she thought it was too short, it dawns on her that time has changed much more than she realized.

Squirrelflight and Leafpool both retired from their duties after Bramblestar passed. The sisters could have continued serving for awhile longer, but what would be the point? They accomplished enough to fill nine lives, and if Hollystar had the opportunity to retire alongside her brothers, she thinks she would take it.

As she passes by, Cinderheart shoots her a smile. Hollystar returns it easily, and watches her pad into the Nursery where her kits are waiting for her.

When Cinderheart first told her about her growing feelings for Toadstep, Hollystar had mixed emotions. It reminded her that Lionblaze could still be alive if he hadn’t sacrificed his life for hers. He would have his own family by now.

But on the other paw, Hollystar was thankful that her closet friend had found love again. It helps that Toadstep worships the ground that Cinderheart walks upon. They were happy together and in the end, that was all that truly mattered.

Happy chirps draw her attention, and a smile touches Hollystar’s lips when she spots the source: her mate and their son were padding into camp, side-by-side.

At eight moons old, Blazepaw looked nothing like his namesake but he already had his spirit. He was courages and dedicated to his training and was shaping into a magnificent warrior. Lionblaze would be proud of his nephew.

Mousewhisker catches her eye, and after he nudges their son to the Apprentice Den, he makes his way towards her.

“Beautiful,” he remarks.

Hollystar raises her gaze to the Silverpelt above. “It is a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t talking about the Silverpelt.”

Mousewhisker sits down beside her and she leans her head on his shoulder. “What was Blazepaw telling you about?”

“He mastered another battle technique. It’s impressive, honestly. We named him after the right cat.”

Hollystar hums in response. “I need to evaluate all of the apprentices soon. Rosepetal’s litter are almost ready to be warriors.”

“Blazepaw will smoke them all.”

“You’re bias.”

“So are you.”

Hollystar considers this. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll bring Ivypool with me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” They sit there in silence for awhile, letting their gazes roam to whatever catches their attention. Mousewhisker is warm and smells like the earth, and Hollystar leans a little deeper into his soft fur.

“What were you thinking about?” Mousewhisker breaks the companionable silence.

“Nothing much. Just how much has changed. I don’t feel like I had time to catch my breath through most of it.”

Mousewhisker huffs. “You’re not the only one who feels that way.” He glances at her, careful not to disturb her. “Still... it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

Hollystar blinks and lifts her head. “Of course not! I don’t have a single regret about any of it. Sometimes it was just a lot to absorb.”

“Well, no one could tell. You handled it all as well as any cat could.” He licks the top of her head. “And you’re a brilliant leader.”

She purrs quietly. “Even if I’ve only been leading for a moon? That seems like a rash judgement.”

“No, it isn’t. You’ve always been brilliant.” He says it with such conviction that Hollystar allows herself to believe it. She licks his cheek and he nuzzles her chin. They’re about to move this to her Den.

But for just another moment, she wants to watch over her Clan.

Laughter pours out of the Elders Den; mewls fill the Nursery; and the warriors jostle and joke. Morale is high, and the Silverpelt shines brightly. It really is a beautiful night.

Mousewhisker nudges her shoulder. “You really don’t have a single regret?” He asks her. “Not one?”

Hollystar considers her question for a long moment. She has done a lot of wrong in her life; she has hurt cats she never wanted to hurt. But every pawstep led her to where she is now, and she can not imagine being any happier than she is at this moment.

So she tells him, No, she does not have a single regret.

[sigritandtheelves]

The second time they made love. MSR

Again, Forever

Explicit |  3.2k wds | fluff, angst, smut | late season six

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT. Maybe that’s what happens when you haven’t written in a while? Anyway, here’s to climbing back on the horse, I guess. This might be considered something of a sequel to “Another Beautiful Saturday,” but you don’t need to have read that at all. Makes sense timeline-wise, though, and a few people asked about a follow-up. Be gentle, I feel out of practice 😅

—

Once, and they could call it a mistake. They could too easily blame tension and riled up emotions, and how it’s been too long for both of them. Twice would signal purpose. Intent.

Of course it hadn’t been a mistake. Those moments (such unbearable sweetness of his fingers in her hair and his body inside hers) had been waiting for them at the end of this long journey toward each other. It had been the end of the endless biding, and a heart-rending inauguration of some new stage. But it was only afterward that Mulder had realized how inevitable it had been, and he was anxious to cement his claim on their new future. This is us together. This is real, he kept thinking. He wanted her to know these things.

His fingers tapped on his desk in anticipation. She’d had almost an entire day without him to second guess, and he didn’t want there to be another minute of possible doubt. He would tell her with his eyes, and then tonight he would make sure she knew—they had done right. All of it was right.

She entered with some trepidation, he saw: a worrying of her lower lip, a nervous hand tucked behind her ear. Her shoulders pushed back against some non-existent weakness he might perceive in her.

“Hey,” he said to her, and he couldn’t help the softness of his eyes. I know those lips, he thought. I know that hair, how it falls over the pillow when she arches her back. The lightest flush of pink colored her cheeks.

“Good morning,” she said, and moved to her desk.

They worked tentatively around each other for a few hours, more careful than usual. No wild theories. No Mulder-you’re-crazys. He wasn’t worried. They’d find their way back there, to eye-rolling and exasperation and subtle flirting, only it would be different this time because it would really be foreplay and afterward he would really get to touch her. He almost hummed, thinking about how all their small bickerings would pay off in the end.

Around noon, he stood and stretched. Without a word, he slipped a folded piece of paper onto her desk space, smiled at her, and ducked out the door. He hovered in the hallway, listening to the paper crinkle as it unfolded, and smiled again before moving on.

Dear Dana Scully,

I am headed to the food court around the corner. Please come join me if you want. I wanted to tell you that I can see your summer freckles through your makeup, now that I know they’re there. I packed a change of clothes in my trunk because twenty-four hours already feels too long. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to drive you home, feed you, and make love to you at least twice before we have to work again. Your face when you come is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

-FWM

He knew he was ridiculous: he could be the stupidest sap when he finally sensed the flow of affection from another person. But he felt that she needed to know what he was thinking. She deserved that, after how he’d been this past year. When Fox Mulder put his mind to something, he did not skimp on the details, and he’d decided that this thing with Scully, he was going to do it right.

While he waited in line for sushi, she appeared beside him without a word, only a half-swallowed smile on her lips. There were agents and other feds crawling all over the place for lunch. Her fingers, though, brushed the back of his hand, and her eyes skated sideways toward him. He hooked his pinky around hers for the briefest of seconds. When the line moved forward, he touched her back and felt her breathe deeply. They ordered and he tried to pay, but she put her hand on his and shook her head. Her treat today—he had promised to feed her dinner. He smiled and nodded.

They ate at a small, round café table where their feet bumped frequently and their hands sometimes brushed and when she took a sip of her diet soda, he leaned forward to pretend to whisper something in her ear, but he kissed the soft shell of it instead. When he sat back, she was smiling. “Mulder,” she said, the barest hint of her old exasperation in her voice.

“Hmm.”

“How are we ever going to get any work done?”

The top of his foot bumped her ankle. “Ask me again tomorrow,” he said, and felt the heat of his own smile on his face.

—

He stopped to pick up their dinner on the drive back to her apartment: two kinds of pasta and a bottle of wine and even a large slice of tiramisu for their dessert. Scully swallowed hard and watched him settle the bag into the back seat. She couldn’t stop the fidgeting hands that betrayed her sense of unease.

She knew Fox Mulder as a dedicated man—when his mind was set, he would see anything through. She wondered, though, how far was through? Was he doing this right just so they might move on, so he could label the case of Dana Scully solved and then turn his attention to deeper mysteries? Did he just need to get it out of his system? He gave her a lopsided smile when he climbed back behind the wheel, which eased her fear slightly. He could be only himself, she realized, which meant that he was sometimes achingly sweet. For a time at least.

“I hope it’s okay,” he said.

“It smells good.”

He nodded, let his gaze linger on her for a moment longer, and then backed out of the space.

Over dinner he talked of various American water-based monsters and folkish legends that made her roll her eyes and laugh in relief while he tugged on her fingers and begged her to give his whimsy a chance. Only ever himself, she thought, and then she made his jaw drop when she told him about seeing a ghost with Melissa when she was twelve.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” he said, and she just shrugged with the slyest of smiles.

“You’ve plied me with wine, so I’ve told you a secret,” she said. “I don’t usually drink on a work night. Or any night, really.” She licked coffee flavored cream from the end of her fork while he watched.

“Scully, if you’ll tell me ghost stories, I’ll bring you wine every night of the week.”

She shook her head. “Not likely. But you can bring me dinner any time you want. Help me clean up?”

They were sudsing and wiping and drying and feeling the tension build when she turned to him with a dish towel in her hands, suddenly more awkward than usual around him. “Thank you for dinner,” she said.

He dried his hands and nodded, watching her closely. She felt the pressure of his gaze. “You okay?” He asked. He put a hand on her elbow, and she nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “I just… Is this real, Mulder? I mean…” But what did she mean? That it wasn’t a game? That he wouldn’t get tired of it as soon as the next lead came along? That a certain brunette wouldn’t wander back in and take him away at any moment?

“Of course it’s real,” he told her. “Scully.” He stepped closer, reached out to touch her hip.

“What about all the reasons not to?” She asked. “What about how you’ll run off without telling me and jump on the back of a moving train or go running head first into some hostage situation?  You can ditch Scully your work partner, but…”

He was nodding. “Hmm,” he said.  “But I can’t ditch Scully my girlfriend?”

She blushed. “Well…”

He tugged her toward him and she slid even further into his personal space. Their torsos were almost touching. She could feel her own blood with every heartbeat. “Are you asking me if I’m going to screw this up?”

She frowned. “I didn’t really mean it like that.”

Mulder dipped his head toward her to press a kiss to her temple. “It’s not a bad question—one I’ve asked myself a few times.” Another kiss, closer to her ear this time, and she was beginning to not care as much about the answer. But he pulled back and looked her in the eye. “I don’t deserve how good you are.”

The words rubbed her wrong, and she felt her nerves rise again. “That can’t be an excuse.”

She watched the look on his face falter as he took in the meaning of her words, realized what he’d really said. “I know.”

There was a pause while she bit her lip and watched the soap bubbles in the sink slowly pop and disappear. “And it isn’t true.” She looked up at him again, at the vulnerable crease between his eyebrows, the way his lower lip stuck out in worry. “You deserve to be happy,” she said. “You deserve to have the things you want. I just meant that I want you to be sure that’s what this is.”

“What this is?” He asked, confused.

“That it’s what you really want.”

She watched him come to understand, watched disbelief cross his face first and then a smile come onto his lips. He shook his head. “A year ago… hell, a month ago, I couldn’t have told you for sure what I really wanted. But that’s only because I wouldn’t let myself see. Scully, you need to know… this has always been what I wanted. Always. Since before I even knew it. Maybe since before I met you.” He raised his hand to her cheek and she let her eyes fall closed at the feel of his skin on hers. She turned her head to press her lips to the heel of his palm. HIs mouth came down near her ear again. “This has been here all along, Scully. Waiting for us to catch up to it. Nothing in my life has ever felt as right.”

She nodded, knowing it was true and wanting to let herself finally believe. “I know,” she whispered, and opened her eyes to find his watching her with such intensity. Her Mulder. God, she loved him. The feeling was suddenly overwhelming. “I’ve never… It felt so right, Mulder.”

He studied her, then tugged her the final inches to press against his body that was warm and solid and smelled so good. She slipped her arms around his neck. “Let me show you how real it is,” he said and lowered his forehead to hers. “You can still call me crazy, Scully. You’ll still try to prove me wrong. But if I have this,” and he kissed her on the nose, then between her eyebrows, and she let out a little choking laugh. “I won’t want to jump onto moving trains anymore.”

Her eyebrow went up. “Are you saying I’ll suddenly inspire caution?”

He grinned. “Well. Some.”

“Hmm,” she said, pressing her hips closer to his. “Do you think right now, though, that we could be a little less cautious?”

She felt the effect of her pressing against him. He growled and lowered his lips to hers. “Definitely,” he said into her mouth, and then he was kissing her with all the anticipation of the past two days, all of his need to show her what he felt. Scully pressed her own love into his mouth, into his skin with her hands in his hair and her finger slipping behind his ears, holding his stubbled-scratchy jaw. She didn’t say the words yet, but tried to make him feel them. I love you, she thought, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. He accepted it all, and gave back in turn, and soon he was dragging her toward the hallway, scooting their bodies eastward while still holding them tightly together. She was laughing and pulling at the hem of his shirt and trying not to stop touching him as they moved.

In her bedroom, he unbuttoned her top while her fingers wrapped around his forearms and they watched each other with lust-heavy eyes. Her breathing was short and quick. He pushed the shirt down her arms before she did the same for him. Their clothes came of piece-by-piece like this, one at a time while they looked at each other. It was nothing like the wild crashing and coming together of their first time, when they’d been worked up from a day in the sun, when the slow build of the past six years had ramped suddenly to a frenzied tension that crashed and crumbled around them.

Scully slipped her right index finger into the waistband of his boxers and dragged it along the hem, feeling the heat of him grow until she encountered smooth hair and then the hot weight of his erection against her knuckle. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat. She let her finger slide up his length, and the sound came again, more insistent. A second finger joined the first, then her whole hand, moving slowly to hold him, to just squeeze gently and feel his warmth. He groaned.

Mulder unhooked her bra and pulled it off so her breasts felt free and heavy in the warm air of the bedroom. She arched her back into the sensation, lifting them toward him. “Beautiful,” he said, sliding one hand to cup her left breast while the other went to the curve of her hip, pulling her toward him so he could kiss her again. She stroked gently while he gripped and rubbed and tweaked each of her breasts, making her moan and lift her knee to his hip. His right hand, warm and just a little rough, scooted the length of her torso to slide under her own panties, and he gasped at how wet he found her. “Oh my god, Scully.” His middle finger slipped along the wet seam of her, explored, made her buck against him. Then, with a bold insistence, it delved inside her and she whimpered a slow “ohhh.” He kissed her neck where it met her shoulder and she almost came right there and then.

“Mulder.” It was a statement: an acknowledgement and an encouragement and a reassurance. Her hand moved over him at the same rhythm he set with his finger inside her and she realized they were both still wearing underwear and standing five feet from her bed but already they were moments from making each other come. His hips jerked first toward, and then away from her, and he slowed his hand. So did she. He kissed her cheek.

“Slower,” he said, and she nodded.

Still, he pushed her underwear down and then off, and then his own boxers, and he walked them both to the bed where he pulled her down to lay across the comforter with him, skin to skin. Their whole bodies touched along their lengths. She watched his eyes grow dark with want and his lips turn up at the sight of her watching him. When his arms came around her, it was like she was inside him, like they were fused and buzzing along every inch of touching flesh. His cock lay warm and heavy between them, pressed to the soft skin of her belly, so she pushed against it with her hips, felt him push back in turn; she murmured “hmmm.” She rubbed her nose against his chest, kissed the place above his heart, and found she couldn’t help herself from saying it: “I love you so much, Mulder.”

And then they both grew still at the revelation. It had come unbidden, but not unconsidered—had been true for years, but always pressed down below the line of verbal acknowledgement. When he didn’t respond right away, she began to worry, the room’s quiet feeding her always-primed seeds of self-doubt where Mulder was concerned. She swallowed. His fingers had stopped on her hip and her shoulder. For a moment, his chest movements halted with his breath—a dizzying minute in which she held her own breath, too. And then he crushed her to him, squeezed her whole body against his and kissed her head. “Oh, Scully Scully Scully. God.” His palm swiped between her shoulder blades, down her back to touch on the swell of her hip. He leaned back only enough to tilt her face up, to trace her cheekbones with his thumbs, and she swore his eyes looked wet.

“Did I say it too soon?” She asked.

He shook his head, laughing. “No. Never.” He was kissing her again, his hand slipping between them, fingers drawing a line along the length of her thighs where they touched, up up from her knees toward the small tuft of hair, as his tongue slipped between her lips. She lifted her knee, kissed him back, and felt herself flushing hot all over. His mouth moved to her jaw, to her ear to nip the lobe and he whispered, so soft, “I love you, Dana Scully.”

She wasn’t prepared for how it felt to hear him say it. It was like she had too much blood, too many nerves, and they were all squeezing her, all lighting her on fire. “I love you,” she whispered again into his own ear, and he said it back a second time, too. They passed the words between them, back and forth, over and over, while lips also traversed a landscape of skin that tightened and hardened and swelled and pebbled under brave explorer tongues.

When he pushed inside her, he said it again, and she couldn’t believe this was only the second time they’d done this. She gripped his hips with her knees and his face between her palms, fingertips in his soft, sweaty hair. “Always,” she said. “Always. I always will,” she said before she couldn’t speak any further words because then they were speaking another kind of language.

—

After, when they’d found their way under the covers, Mulder trailed his knuckles along her arm from bare shoulder to elbow, eyes on her hair that spilled across his chest, watching the rise and fall of her breathing. This is us together, he thought. This is real. This thing between them was rendered true by more than just intent and purpose, more than just a determined second coupling. It felt cosmic, bound to the moving stars and clockwork of the universe, cemented in some great history of forever. He was waxing poetic, he realized, like any good lovestruck fool. He kissed the top of her head and pulled the blanket tighter. He’d promised her twice before work tomorrow; they should rest.

“Good night, Scully,” he said into her hair.

She took an extra deep breath and let it out with a “Hmmm g’night, Mulder.” He loved especially how easily she fell asleep in his presence. He thought how she must feel safe, and it made him smile.

He reached out a reluctant arm to switch off the bedside lamp.

The room fell dark, and they both slept quiet until morning.

[davidmann95]

So, Superman, Action Comics, Justice League, Superman: Up, Up, and Away, and other titles... how do you feel about Superman's place right now?

Comics-wise? Superman’s in an incredibly positive place right now! Action Comics is generally being regarded as a really solid book. Superman: Up Up and Away is largely I think going to achieve deserved perennial status even with the one truly bad chapter weighing it down that’ll be reprinted in #3. He just had an absolutely phenomenal showing in Justice League in that book’s best arc since the Morrison years with The Sixth Dimension!, with by all appearances more quality Superman content to come from that corner. And while even as the official Bendis Superman liker I’m ready for the Unity Saga to be done in Superman proper, I’m still enjoying it and I’m incredibly excited by the descriptions of upcoming stories suggesting it’ll tap back into the promise of the first issue by dealing with the likes of (rot13) na rivy Ybvf Ynar pbzznaqrrevat gur Sbegerff, gur Yrtvba neevivat gb erpehvg Wba, naq Fhcrezna'f arj wbo qrfpevcgvba bs Cerfvqrag bs Rnegu. Fuck, I’m even one of the two weirdoes who thought Superman: Year One’s first issue had worthwhile elements. Throw on Lois Lane and Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen, from what I understand Supergirl being merely forgettable rather than actively bad at the moment, a AAA Legion of Superheroes relaunch on the horizon with at least one major connection back to him, and Superman serving as the spiritual linchpin of the Wonder Comics line, and this is the best his lineup has been since the mid-00s, if not in fact in decades.

That all being said:

Anonymous said: Will Superman ever truly escape the shadow of the Jurgens mediocrity and the latest Tomasi mediocrity (with a renewed dose of Jurgens) in the long term? Or are we doomed to more Doomsdays and dull text lacking ambition, imagination and execution, which keeps reasserting itself in the place where greater texts (read Morrison Action, or Maggin in general) oughta be?

Truthfully, much as I rag on the both of them, they’re symptoms rather than the issues themselves. It’s from an editorially-enforced popular conception of Superman - one most easily traced back to John Byrne and the Donner movies, but its roots are in his vague public image period - as fundamentally a simple character inhabiting a simple world, whether that’s considered his charm, his damnation, or the simplest way of dealing with him on the part of those who don’t really give a shit. And damn it, it’s successful up to a point, and it��s safe. Which makes it potentially more corrosive to his image in the long-term than even the try-hard faux-deep darkening of his world, since that tends to receive immediate, severe backlash.

Bendis has his Bendis-isms I know rankle people, same goes for King, but ultimately they’re writing fairly classical takes on Clark himself. The scope of the backlash beyond the very fact of their names I think comes down to that there’s flavor and there’s risk to what’s being done with Superman at the moment, that it’s about stuff other than how great he is and how great he makes us feel, and a whole lot of people find that antithetical to his whole deal or at the very least a warning sign of doom to come. In a post-Snyder world folks are wary and looking for the next incoming blow, but even that aside there’s a whole lot of people who think this is all there is to Superman…

…and plenty believe that’s exactly how it should be.

(Fuck I hate that page, all the failings of What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way? and Secret Origin amplified and condensed into a single moment of square-jawed, smirking, condescending ‘wholesome’ small-c conservative Americana lecturing us cynical modern city folks on how you just gotta be nicer and love the problems away - I suppose it’s actually perfect Manchester Black is the final villain of the run and that arc specifically.)

Add that a lot of the best creators such as Maggin, Busiek, Waid, and Ennis are either thoroughly in the rear-view mirror or have scattered/sporadic/relatively little work with him, or both, and that Morrison’s Action was swept up in the same issues as the above? And that the last Superman story smacking of rocking the boat that still went on to generally widespread acceptance and acclaim in American Alien almost immediately became one we by and large Do Not Talk About Anymore because of, y’know, all that stuff? While meanwhile the very fact of the simple takes on Superman being simple means they’re easy to repackage? I actually don’t think the Rebirth years will have much staying power outside a devoted few given they’re roped pretty heavily into continuity shenanigans, but Death of Superman is sticking around forever.

The boring, impossibly difficult solution is “do really good stuff with Superman for decades until that becomes the predominant image of him”. Somewhat more practically even if it’s still by no means simple, what the dude really needs - much as I’m enjoying the current status quo and will take it for as long as I can get it given the general alternatives - is something akin to a Ewing and Bennett on Hulk, or Hickman and company on X-Men. An impossible-to-overlook new injection of vitality into the title/s by creators with both the skill and fandom clout to get away with that sort of thing and be widely embraced for it, who can do something Big and New and Exciting that without twisting away from what it’s always been about at heart show it’s more than worth taking the leap towards something more nuanced and energetic and bolder. Not that that would stop plenty of crap Superman comics being made, comics even that would actively, consciously work to undo whatever such a run brought to the table to return it to the glory years of Jurgens and Tomasi. But it would make the sort of impression that means that eventually someone would be dedicated to recapturing those ideas and that spirit, in the same way that no matter how many crap comics Daredevil or Batman might get in a row there’s an understanding now that they simply won’t be permitted to go too long without a major fan-favorite run under their belts. Not a perfect solution, but we don’t live in a perfect world.

[warhammer40cake-blog]

Chapter 1: Three Guns too Few, Three Guns too Many

The supply convoy was gathering its things for extraction. Columns of flatbeds and armored transport were doing their best to form orderly lines, moving along well-worn paths that hadn’t existed eight months ago. As a token of gratitude, the planet’s locals were building pallets and separating salvage from trash. Children held las cells up to their noses to see if they had been discharged or not while the adults stacked things far too heavy for the young ones to handle. The “discharge” pile was significantly larger than the salvage pile, but even the children felt compelled to help the Imperial forces that had made their way to pry Garthin from the grips of a chaos incursion. Maybe “incursion” was too strong a word to use. It was more like a rebellion, but chaos was not a matter to be taken lightly. A single continent, two regional manufactorum districts, and the inquisition had sent in its people yesterday. To be fair, they were the ones calling it an incursion, not the locals.

Major Vord Rankin sipped cold recaff from a hip flask and watched a pair of young girls sorting through trash. The older, maybe seven or eight, gently took a las cell from her little sister and showed her how to administer the sniff test. The toddler had been holding them up to her ear and shaking them, and her sister patiently explained that you couldn’t tell that way. They had to have that ozone smell to them. That’s how you could tell if they had been fired or not.

Of course, they had all been fired, but the major wasn’t about to tell them that.

“Move it,” a voice said from behind, prompting Rankin to sidestep as a small lift rattled by with crates stacked nearly above the driver’s eye line.

Gratitude, Rankin thought, glancing back at the girls. A virtue. No, more than a virtue, it was a blessing from the Emperor himself. Not every child in their situation survived to feel gratitude, and the fact that they were already wise enough to express it filled him with pride.

Garthin was an interesting node in the Imperial supply chain, its manufactorum blocs producing the bulk of all nonessential mechanisms needed to fuel the war efforts in the system. There were entire worlds dedicated to pushing out armor and guns, thousands of square miles of nothing but chassis, treads, and engines. There were factories stamping out so many lasgun frames per minute that the machine song could be heard behind closed doors inside the Mechanicum’s temple walls. But the best place to machine gun barrels might not necessarily be the best place to cut focus crystals. When you need every square foot available to you for steel works, it is sometimes better to have several million polymer trigger assemblies delivered on a single landing pad. Not to mention the fact that Garthin was one of the largest grain suppliers within easy traveling distance. There were so many small pieces moving through Garthin that its troubles had not been noticed immediately, but when shipments started arriving later and later the Mechanicum had taken interest. And when the Mechanicum cried, the munitorum did too. From there it hadn’t been long until there were boots on the ground.

The sound of shouting drew Rankin’s attention away from the girls. He looked across the muddy, torn up field, standing on his toes to see over the milling crowd. He couldn’t see who was shouting, but the voice was all too familiar. He started cutting his way across the slow moving convoy.

The chaos rebellion, as many like it did, had started in secret. Worshippers of the ruinous powers were never bold enough to do so under the sterilizing light of day until their numbers were enough to bolster confidence. Rankin tried to recall the title the chaos scum had given themselves, failed, and realized it was a good thing that he had forgotten. He didn’t need to know who they were, just that they were all dead. Rumors were that the entire thing had started with a single man who had been brutalized one night after his shift had ended. The attackers, they said, had taken everything he had on his person regardless of value. Most of it had been found less than a mile away in a trash can. He had needed extensive surgery that neither he nor his family had been in a position to afford, and it looked like his life had gone from decades of quiet service to the Imperium to destitution in the span of a few agonizing minutes.

There were things in the galaxy who’s mouths were always open and questing for that flavor of frustration.

“There’s sixteen of us!” the voice shouted. There was a pause. “Fifteen, whatever! There’s fifteen of us and you’re going to give me these lasguns or I swear on the Golden Throne I’ll-”

“You’ll what, trooper Slatnik?” Rankin asked calmly.

Slatnik turned, her face red as a brick and twice as hard, and threw a quick salute. Tall for a woman, she had the demeanor of a feral cat, scarred and rough around every available edge. Her face was lined beyond her years from an early career of hard living, and her hair was a short cut nest of oily black feathers.

“Major, sir, these men refuse to help with our resupply,” she said through barred teeth. “We’re shy three lasguns and they won’t budge.”

The men standing behind Slatnik were dressed in officer’s garb, clean and more plump than a soldier should have been. Rankin knew one was a colonel from the pins on his greatcoat, and the other appeared to be an adjutant.

“Is that right, colonel?” Rankin asked, looking over Slatnik shoulder. “You’re here arguing with my guardsman over three lasguns?”

“The lasguns belong to the Feronian Firestags,” the adjutant answered, a smug expression creasing his chubby face. “And the Feronian Firestags need them. We can’t be bothered to give charity out to every poor soul that comes along with open hands.”

The colonel chuckled, clearly taking delight in not having to answer Rankin’s question himself. The major watched him with mild interest. Rankin’s team had been on Garthin for the duration of the conflict. First in and, by the looks of things, last out. These pompous Feronians had been here somewhere, but he couldn’t remember having seen hide nor hair of them. A bloated regiment with a bloated colonel, too afraid to stain their clothes with front line combat. Here was a man who could learn a thing or two from those girls sorting power cells in the dirt.

Rankin looked back at Slatnik.

“I asked you a question, tooper.”

Slatnik squinted at him. “Sir?”

“I asked you what you would do to the colonel here if he didn’t comply. So, what will you do if we don’t get those lasguns, trooper Slatnik?”

Back still to the two men, her grimace curled into a nasty smile. “I’d rather not say, major, sir.”

Rankin sniffed and took a long, careful drink from his flask, making heavy eye contact with the silent colonel. He screwed the lid back on slowly, as if preparing to make love to the vessel, and tucked it carefully back into his hip pocket.

“Show me.”

Like magic, Slatnik’s booted foot was flying in an arc above her head as the last syllable from Rankin’s mouth still hung in the air. It crashed into the colonel’s temple, spinning him sideways into the mud. The adjutant balked, unable to process what had just happened, and fumbled with the leather catch of his holstered laspistol.

Rankin whistled, and the pudgy man looked up in time to see the barrel of a bolt pistol leveled at his chest. Rankin smiled and shook his head.

Gloved hands grabbed the adjutant by his collar. Slatnik screamed away months of pain and frustration before slamming her forehead into his nose. The cartilage shattered, sending a starburst of blood across his cheeks and knocking him out cold. He fell where he stood, crumbling like an old cement wall, and face planted into the wet ground. The colonel had his hand pressed to the rapidly swelling side of his face that had taken the boot and shouted for help. The elegant ceremonial blade he had belted to his side was caked with mud and too slick to pull from its scabbard, and Rankin had not seen any sort of firearm on the man.

The arrogance.

Slatnik straddled the Feronian. “Hey, groxshit,” she said, leaning down. “Was it worth the three lasguns?”

Before he could answer, she stomped the heel of her boot down on his groin and ground it against the road. He screamed, legs reflexively closing down around her ankle. She planted her foot against his stomach, pressing mud into the one part of his uniform that had been spared in the fall, and pulled the boot free with a wet sucking sound.

“That’s enough, trooper,” Rankin said, trying not to show his amusement. Five guardsmen in the Feronian livery were running towards them, lasguns at the ready, and he couldn’t have her actively humiliating their colonel when they arrived. He put away his bolt pistol and ran a gloved hand over his face. Why did it always have to be like this? Why couldn’t they see that they were all fighting for the same Emperor, the same Terra, the same Imperium? It was always a struggle, but it never had to be.

“Back up!” shouted the first guardsman on the scene. He was staring down the sight of his lasgun, his freshly shaved cheek pressed tight to the stock. “Hands where we can see them!”

Slatnik licked the blood off her lips and spat into the dirt at the colonel’s feet. She turned her back to the soldiers and walked to stand next to Rankin.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Likewise.”

The colonel pushed himself up, covered in equal parts mud and shame, and tried in vain to straighten his hat. Two of the Feronian guardsmen tried to help him, but he pushed them away. Blood was flowing from a cut above his right eye, that temple now a rosy goose egg.

“Shoot them,” he demanded, pointing a shaking hand in their direction. “Shoot them right now.”

“Are you a commissar?” Rankin asked. He saw the men hesitate, unsure of whether or not they should execute an officer that clearly outranked them, even if it was one in such a disheveled looking uniform. “Do you have the authority to dole out summary executions?”

“You’re traitors!” the colonel screamed, flinging mud from the tassels on his shoulders as he swung an accusing finger from Rankin to Slatnik.

Rankin nodded to the prone adjutant. “Someone should help him up before he suffocates.”

The guardsmen who had tried to help the colonel looked sheepishly at the adjutant, shouldered their rifles, and got him to his feet.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Rankin said, ignoring the colonel’s outburst. “You’ve got five decent guardsmen here. Good men. I can tell by looking at them. Instead of shooting us here, you can escort us to the command tent and tell top brass what happened. I’ll personally accept any punishment they see fit to bestow on behalf of my subordinate’s actions.”

The colonel breathed heavily, his rage barely contained. “Nothing’s stopping me from taking a rifle and shooting you myself.”

Rankin shrugged. “I guess not, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No one’s going to fault me for putting down a traitorous major,” he said, spittle on his lips. “Especially not someone like you. The Feronian Firestags wouldn’t soil their boots stepping on a unit only fifteen men strong.”

“Good,” Rankin said cheerfully. “Then take us to the tent. The general can shoot us so you don’t have to waste the effort.”

The Feronians escorted Rankin and Slatnik the short walk to the command tent in tense silence, their backs straight and eyes forward. The adjutant was awake and plodding along in front of them, his gait unsteady and crooked. Their colonel set the pace. He was moving faster than he had likely moved the entire campaign. There was blood in the water, his blood, and he wasn’t going to let it dissipate before taking satisfaction.

Their prisoners made small talk about whether or not it would rain.

Just a week prior, the command tent had been a much larger structure, housing the bulk of tac logis machinery and those who were authorized to use them. These days it was little more than a single tent surrounded by sealed plastic crates waiting their turn to be shipped off world with the next truckload of equipment. They pushed through the tent flaps, the Feronians taking care not to disturb the officers from their discussion therein.

“I’ve seen my breath a couple of times today,” Slatnik insisted, shouldering past the guardsmen escorting them. “Temperature’s dropping. It’s going to rain before day’s end.”

“Hard to tell,” Rankin countered, waving his hands around. “Atmospherics from all these shuttles.... Who can say?”

The inside of the tent was lined with lumen globes hanging from hooks in the poles, tables and dataslates stacked against the perimeter. A long table still stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the eight remaining members in command of the operations on Garthin. They turned to regard the newcomers with mild annoyance, some scowling from underneath peaked caps while others only glanced and shook their heads before going back to the matters at hand.

One man, however, stood very much apart from the rest, for he was no mere man at all.

“Sir,” Rankin said, he and Slatnik throwing a smart salute before approaching the table.

“Major,” the man rumbled, his voice deep and immovably hard. “Trooper Slatnik. How has the resupply gone?”

Rankin cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, sir, that’s why we’re here.” He held out his hand and turned towards the Feronian colonel. “This is colonel....”

“Mastalig,” he said quickly, swallowing hard. “Colonel Thame Mastalig of the Feronian first, the Firestags.”

The man looked to the rest of the commanders at the table. “General Vesbule, the Feronian regiments are here under your deployment, are they not?”

“Indeed,” Vesbule said stiffly, eyeing the colonel in his disheveled state.

“You’re injured,” he rumbled with that penetrating voice, tapping at the side of his head with a massive finger. “Are you alright?”

Mastalig looked at the ground, uncomfortable with making eye contact with the giant. “Fine, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah,” Rankin said, staring at the sweating colonel. “He’s a real trooper, that one. About that resupply, though.”

“Whatever you need, I’m sure general Vesbule will be more than accommodating to our needs,” he boomed. “That will be fine, will it not?”

“Of course,” Vesbule said, waving the statement away before going back to his dataslate. “Take whatever you need. Mastalig, make sure our friends here are well equipped and looked after. Their service has been invaluable, and I want them given only the best treatment. Do you understand?”

Under the layer of mud, the colonel went puce.

“What’s happening?” the woozy adjutant said, shuffling into the tent. Too covered in blood to want to show his face, he had been left outside on a crate with a bottle of water and a towel. He was clean now, but his nose was a crooked lump of purple that would need time with a medicae if it was going to heal any kind of straight. “What did they say?”

“Out!” the colonel hissed, his jaw shaking with embarrassment. He shoved his aide through the tent flap roughly and grabbed the nearest guardsman by the shoulder. “Get him back to camp and set him straight. I don’t want to see him here again.”

The guardsman nodded curtly and hurried away.

“Don’t worry,” Slatnik said, sauntering over to the Feronians. She threw her arms over their shoulders and planted a kiss on the cheek of the guardsman next to her. “I’ll come with you. Make sure everything goes smoothly. We sure do appreciate all your help.”

“Emperor,” the trooper on her arm said, looking away, “your breath is vile.”

“Yeah!” Slatnik nearly double over with laughter as they walked out of the tent. “Don’t I know it.”

The giant nodded as they left. “Happy, major?”

“Yes, sir,” Rankin replied. “Thank you.”

The space marine went back to discussing extraction with the rest of command. Rankin sighed heavily, taking the flask off his hip as he went quietly from their company. Gratitude, he thought, nodding as he swallowed the bitter sludge. A true blessing from the Emperor himself.

[shrewful]

WIP’s & Main Characters; A List

It’s time I actually started functioning like an actual writeblr, folks! With this guide, y’all can (must, I mean. this is a demand and not a request) ask me questions, request info or short stories on certain WIPs or characters, and generally force me to put what's in my head on paper — er, screen.

Apex Tempest (Previously Perish & Prosper) 

My beloved main WIP, constructed from the corpses of about three or four other failed WIPs. This WIP is fantasy, but world-building heavy, partially founded on the idea that everything — and I mean everything — would be completely original. No borrowed gods, no monsters from real-world myths, and no Tolkien species; Apex's gods (entities) are vague and strange, it's monsters are grotesque, but elegant, and in later books that will take place in the same world, will feature a cast of original fantasy species. Apex Tempest's plot follows the story of the climax of two entities' eternal battle through their disciples — pseudo-demigods, for the folks at home — and how their plans are foiled by a deal, a rogue destiny, and gay rights.

Spirit In The Woods, or, El’ai is our intrepid main character. They are a special flavor of crouching moron, hidden badass. From being raised by skeleton smoke ghosts in the half-dead forest island of Akther, they have little to no social skills they can use when they head to the mainland (they’re also just naturally a bit oblivious). At the same time, El’ai is not only an incredibly good fighter but has a bold heart of gold; they do good for the sake of doing good, and while it may not seem too important, this sets them apart throughout the book as the one to move the plot along. 

Velvera is both our villain and love interest; surpassing enemies-to-lovers to the coveted, strange, and confusing grey area of enemies-AND-lovers. I could write a three-page essay on her character; she’s a bit complicated, so I'll be fleshing out her personality and relationship with El’ai through chapter tidbits and short stories. In short, she’s a dissociated biologist who is so dissociated that she literally agreed to end the world in exchange for the ability to manipulate cells — an ability which she almost only uses to study biology, like the big disaster nerd she is. 

Mauve City

2nd to main WIP right here, probably. Follows the story of Sodapop Bonegreive, affectionately nicknamed ‘Bone’; an 18-year-old boy looking to become an animator. However, his plans are thrown off the rails when his uncle‘s business goes completely downhill, leaving their little family with not very much to live off. Bone turns to the internet for job opportunities and acquaints Morgan, who guarantees him that he can earn enough money to fund both his family and college funds in just a single year. Bone accepts, and before he can pack his bags, finds none other than Morgan lounging on his windowsill the next day. What follows is a trip to Mauve City; a rust-belt city that both became prosperous and disappeared from the worlds’ memory in a matter of years, and Bone’s transformation from art student to mobster on the streets of the city with no rules. 

Bone is the main character, and of all my characters of any WIP, the most beloved thus far. I legitimately have no clue why, of all my characters, Bone has garnered the most affection over the past few years amongst my friends. At his core, he is awkward, unsure of himself, but generally well-meaning, but the circumstances he is put under force him to develop a new persona; sly, debonair, cold, and professional, but with wit and mischief to go around. 

Morgan is morgan. oh boy

Lucile is always at Morgan’s right hand; they were once in a relationship, but not anymore, though Lucile still sticks by him. She is grim, quiet, beautiful, but in a melancholy way, like a stone angel. She has a bigger part to play in the second book that is only hinted at, but here, she is a friend to Bone and something of a behind the scenes player. 

Below are my 2nd-Tier WIPs; they are far less active or developed than the ones above. 

Wind Up, Dollface, and Ickster

These are my oldest standing WIPs with, surprisingly, the least amount of details character-wise; Wind up and Dollface are two sister books that have events that occur at the same time, while Ickster is the two’s prequel. They can be read in any order. In Ickster, magic is discovered and thus known as ‘Ick’; the sentient plasma with strange qualities that is theorized to make up souls. This force can be used in many different ways, and thus, as It Do(TM), the government creates a branch of the military known as the Icksters, dedicated to using the new force as a weapon to fight in an upcoming war. Ick becomes the worlds’ most coveted technology, and the Icksters, whose masks and cowls were originally designed to hide their identities, become celebrities, and their masks and cowls individualized and made unique to give them special identities. One thing leads to another, bing bang boom, Ick-based armageddon and fallout time! Many years in the future, we find ourselves in our two sister books; in Wind Up, our main character is made of metal and glass and goes on a quest to discover her creators, and in Dollface, our main character is made of cloth and stuffing and goes on a quest to overthrow their creators. Why? How? I guess you’ll have to read it, bucko!

Ickster never got any solid main characters; I wasn’t even going to write ut as a book. It was originally just going to be the backstory discovered in the sister books until I realized that it was rad.

Dollface’s main character is Tink, who I am renaming sometime; a human-sized wind-up doll with amnesia and a missing dad. They go on a search to find said dad and end up uncovering ancient mysteries and wracking up a band of companions along the way. 

Dollface’s main character is unnamed as of yet, but basically, they’re a life-sized ragdoll who goes about freeing his people.

The Adventures of Deadhead, & How Charlotte Saw Red (ADHCSR)

We’re now getting into the Megaspace (will explain... sometime.) Earth books; this, The New Inferno, and Fairy Floss all take place in the same world. The setting is urban fantasy, and while there are quite a few sci-fi esc crazy metropolises in this world, our story takes place in mediocre not-big-enough-to-be-a-proper-city, but-too-urban-to-really-be-called-a-town Slatesburgh, and surrounding suburbs. We follow the story of Charlotte, daughter of a disaster of a witch, and her best friend; Deadhead, the living corpse her mother put together, because why not? They start a band with rotating other members and slowly make a name for themselves, playing against bands of satyrs, vampires, and more, all whilst trying to keep a considerable distance from Charlotte’s unwelcome admirer, Sweetheart. Meanwhile, local mistreated lad makes a deal with an evil warlock trapped in the body of a raven for power so that he can fix the mess that the adults of this godforsaken town created, and it’s up to Charlotte and the band to make sure he doesn’t create a regime in the process (because again, the adults of this place are useless). 

Charlotte fucking rocks. She’s quiet and straight-faced to create a no-nonsense image but is a purveyor of nonsense herself -- being one of the most responsible people in the book, whilst also having a solid philosophy of doing the first thing that comes to her head, which tends to be either a blessing due to having great ideas, or a curse due to magically-backed anger issues. She’s another character you gotta read to know, but what is for certain, is that her design is rad. 

Deadhead is a lovable wreck that moves the plot along by virtue of being kidnapped every 2 chapters -- no one knows how or why Charlotte’s mom made them, and since no one wants to deal with Charlotte’s mom, they tend to just snatch them up. They’re the type of person to take the cigarette out of your mouth and eat it when they pass by you.  

Ochre is the villain/main character of the semi-political subplot. After being kicked out of his house by his guardians and almost dying of hypothermia -- something the magic counsel was supposed to prevent -- Asmodeus, a warlock, comes to offer him a deal. Asmodeus is a warlock; once incredibly powerful and considerably evil, but after the crusade against warlocks, was turned into a bird like all the other warlocks. Asmodeus can’t use his power himself, but had figured out how to seep his magic into another being; and, stumbling upon this emotionally manipulatable teen, decides to take him under his literal wing. 

Welcome to Summersbook; the Quadrilogy

Though these four books are Megaspace books, they do not take place on the same earth as the others. But it’s still earth. I’ll explain later. These are all semi-realistic fiction; while they definitely could happen in the real world, there will be more than a few times where you will need to suspend your disbelief. They follow the stories of the Senior, Junior, Sophomore, and Freshmen classes of Summersbrook Highschool and their various hijinks, each with its own tone; the Senior book follows Gamboge, a wise and intelligent kid that speaks, dresses, and acts like a stereotypical ‘hick’ and is treated as such until other kids of his grade stumble upon him for wisdom, comfort, and good dialogue -- all until the end, where the people Gamboge helped band together to help him back. It’s focused on provoking thought and is centered around dialogue and character relationships rather than action. The Junior class follows Lucky Bird of the Bird family and her plucky, painstakingly nicknamed compatriots as they try to improve the quality of their town and the lives of their friends. This book is filled with hijinks and mischief, and while there are a good few emotional moments, it’s mostly a feel-good adventure between best friends. The Sophomore class is my favorite; Summerbrooks’ in-famed Cannibal Class is filled with a colorful array of inexplicable geniuses with too much time on their hands. This would be far from an issue, if not for one moment; when Wulver Bathgate asks his compatriots how they’d go about making a quick buck. What follows is a capitalist drama, taking up the mantle of ‘comedy’ only because of the whiplash that follows going between “there’s a communist coup d'é tat” and “in room 101 with the drama kids” in the same sentence. The freshmen class’s story isn’t quite decided yet.

Gamboge is, as previously stated, the stereotype of a hick at first glance. He’s almost as pale as he is pink with sunburn at any given moment in time, wears torn jorts, rarely a shirt, and some variety of a loppy-brimmed hat. Every day after school, he sits in the same patch of grass and moss under the same tree, and every day, more and more new faces show up for his rumored good advice. Though he does dispense some good words of wisdom throughout the book, he struggles to get through to himself

Fletcher Blue is someone who you get to know through bits and pieces of dialogue throughout the Senior book. 

Lucky Bird suffers big-family-with-cool-siblings syndrome; each of her siblings had a claim to fame, whilst Lucky, well, didn’t -- all except Lucky’s famed luck. Lucky begins her quest to improve her dingy town out of a need to validate herself but quickly finds herself with different reasons along the way.

The Sophomore Class’s characters are yet to be solid.

Fairy Floss

Dr. Bealiamonte, local space mutant scientist, created 6 super-artificial intelligences designed to watch over the world known as the Noble Intelligences; Helium, Neon, Argon, Krypton, Xenon, and Radon. What followed was an unprecedented period of peace and prosperity -- but, that period came to a screeching halt. The intelligences had been given bits of human emotion and empathy, but not too much. They were also given the ability to criticize themselves, leading to their eventual discomfort with the fact that they didn’t entirely understand their subjects, the humans, even if they ruled well anyways. Thus, the Nobles created the second generation of super-intelligences, effectively built with the emotional capabilities of a human and the computing capabilities of a supercomputer. These were known as the Halogens; they almost immediately became unstable and began wreaking havoc. In response, The Odd Fellows, a secret society bent on the protection of the world, sends out operatives to stop the raging robot-gods, with Fairy Floss amongst their ranks. Both sci-fi and fantasy, because hell yeah. 

Fairy Floss has the most beloved design of all my characters, in my humble opinion, though I accidentally made her look like a Black Panther; beret, small circular sunglasses, a pastel pink shawl, tall black boots, and braid-bun. Still working on the personality, but her first language is Esperanto. 

The New Inferno 

The New Inferno follows Dante, our local debt-swamped fresh college graduate, with nowhere to live except the particularly stereotypical haunted-house esc victorian home passed down to him by his eccentric rich grandfather. Dante is almost-but-not-really surprised that this house isn’t actually as abandoned as it seems; it houses a variety of ghosts that Dante’s grandfather had collected over the years. These ghosts reveal that Dante’s bloodline, which is able to be traced back all the way to the Dante, Dante mother-trucking-Alighieri, Durante-di-gott-damn-Alighiero-degli-trucking-Alighieri, has the unique ability to interact with those from the afterlife and its associated creatures. From this fact, his ghost compatriots suggest a way out of Dante’s financial issues; ghosts are actually quite plentiful, all stuck in the mortal world after leaving some sort of business unfinished. This is not-so-pleasing to demons and angels, as they are the ones who manage the afterlife, and having a soul out of place is like having an itch un-scratched or a box-unchecked; after all, mortals aren’t the only ones who can’t rest until things are finished. Thus, when Dante assists a ghost in completing their business and thus sending them wherever they need to be, he often gets a reward from the angels or demons that receive them -- usually via finding 50 bucks in the street or winning a lottery he never entered. But, things start getting hectic when those angels and demons begin requesting more and more -- and, before he knows it, there’s a demon on his futon and what looks to be a flaming mass of golden rings, eyes, and wings in his kitchen. Will our coffee-fueled protagonist make his way out of the forest dark? Who knows! Dante sure doesn’t. 

As my newest WIP, Dante is also very fresh and not too developed. Upon ask, I will actually start writing a solid personality. I’m not entirely sure on what hour of writing this I’m on, so I’m gonna leave this at that.

[sushigirlali]

Lollipop (Reylo Fanfic)

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything that relates to Star Wars.

Rating: E

Continuity: Modern AU

A/N: This one-shot is dedicated to @saturnine-stardust for her adorable take on the Aria Grande lollipop meme! She’s a great artist and you guys should definitely check out her work! Somehow this fic ended up being super dirty, so mind the rating! 😀 Enjoy!

Master list –> sushigirlali’s Reylo fanfiction 

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Lollipop By: sushigirlali

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“I can’t believe you made me leave the house like this,” Ben grumbled, automatically holding the door open for his girlfriend as they exited the local corner store. “I can barely walk straight!”

“You promised me breakfast,” Rey reminded him as she stepped onto the sidewalk, absently tugging down the hem of her oversized baby blue sweatshirt.

Ben eyed the black logo emblazoned across her left shoulder with a wry smile. Although they hadn’t attended school at the same time, their respective colleges held a long-standing rivalry that went back to their founding over a hundred years ago.

Having thrown on his favorite collegiate shirt after getting out of the shower this morning, he was pretty sure she’d worn the old hoodie just to annoy him. Among the many things Rey and Ben had in common, ribbing each other about their choice of university was a favorite pastime of the longtime couple.

“And you promised to protect me from those hooligans you call friends!” he shot back playfully, yanking the hood of his jacket over his baseball cap to block out the early morning sun.

“Hey, blame your own competitive streak, not me,” she replied dryly, pressing the crosswalk call button. “You didn’t have to play fifteen rounds of beer pong with them.” 

“How are they so good at handling their alcohol anyway? Do they both share the same hallow leg?” Ben chuckled at his own joke, taking a swig from his water bottle while they waited to cross. After the ridiculous amount of beer he’d imbibed the night before, hydration was key to a swift recovery.

“Finn and Poe were in the same frat, so they’re total pros at the whole drinking game thing,” Rey reminded him. “So, maybe don’t challenge them next time?”

“That’s probably wise,” Ben sighed. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Nope!” she sang, reaching into the front pocket of her sweatshirt. “Here, this will make you feel better!”

Ben watched as she unwrapped a lime green lollipop.

“Go on, take it,” she cajoled, holding up the brightly colored candy. “It’s green apple, your favorite.”

“I’m not really in the mood for—mmph!” he broke off as Rey shoved the round ball of sugar between his lips.

Giggling at his miffed look, Rey popped a cherry red lollipop into her own mouth. “Well?”

“It’s good, I guess,” Ben mumbled around the sucker, the crisp apple flavor making his taste buds sing.

“Just good?”

“Okay, better than good,” he grudgingly admitted. If nothing else, he was honest to a fault. “How’d you know green apple is my favorite, anyway?”

“I’m a mind reader,” Rey teased, smiling when his fingers slid through hers despite his harried tone.

“Yeah, yeah, but—”

“No buts!” she interrupted, tugging him into the road as the little walking man signaled it was safe to cross. “I’m starving!”

Allowing his lady to pull him along to the public parking lot across the street, Ben helped her into his huge black Suburban before coming around to the driver’s side and climbing behind the wheel.

“Since I’m not getting out of breakfast and back into bed,” Ben bantered, holding the paper stem of his lollipop between his fingers like a cigarette as he started the engine, “where would you like to go?”

“Maz’s, of course,” Rey said, idly crunching on her cherry treat as she buckled her seatbelt.

“But that’s all the way out in Takodana!” he complained, smoothly backing out of the parking lot and into traffic.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it worth your while,” she promised.

“Oh, yeah?” Ben raised an inquisitive brow, already turning down a side street that led to the road out of town.

Teasing aside, they both knew that Ben would give Rey anything she asked for, especially when it came to food. He was forever trying to make up for her desolate childhood in the foster care system, even taking up cooking lessons and buying a subscription to Blue Apron just to make homemade meals for her, much to Rey’s amusement and not-so-secret pleasure.

“Yeah,” Rey smirked, prying the long fingers of his right hand off the steering wheel and bringing them to her breast. “It’s a thirty-minute ride to Takodana, so I thought we could have a little fun.”

“What are you—?” Ben stuttered, dropping the sticky lollipop onto the black floor mat in surprise. “Rey, where’s your bra?!”

“On our bedroom floor where you tossed it last night,” she purred. “We were too drunk to do much more than undress at the time, but I’ve been thinking about fucking you since I woke up naked in your arms this morning.”

“Jesus, Rey,” he breathed, instantly hardening at her whispered words; he loved it when she talked dirty to him. Fingers contracting around her soft mound, Ben zeroed in on her hard-tipped nipple, rolling and pinching it between his thumb and index finger until she was squirming in her seat.

Sighing prettily, Rey stretched like a cat under the tantalizing pressure. “I love the feel of your hands on me.” She waited a beat, savoring his touch, before dragging his hand down her body. “Would you like to see how much?”

“Did you…did you leave your panties at home too?” he said in a strangled voice.

“Hmm…I don’t remember,” Rey said coyly. “Can you check for me?”

“Rey, we shouldn’t…”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re in a moving vehicle?” Ben said gruffly, trying to fight against his baser urges. “We could crash.”

“No, we won’t. I trust you,” she assured him.

“Rey…”

“Please touch me, Ben,” she tempted, caressing the back of his hand. “I know you won’t let anything happen to us.”

“Dammit, Rey, this is so dangerous…” Ben said roughly, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from slipping his hand between her smooth thighs; that pleading look on her face was just too enticing.

Glancing nervously at the road every few moments, Ben sucked in a harsh breath as he delved under her sweatshirt. Finding her bare beneath the garment, Ben tunneled his fingers through her neatly trimmed thatch of curls, tracing the seam of her pussy with calculated restraint.

“Oh!” Rey gasped in response, spreading her legs wider as he toyed with her. “Ben!”

Separating her tender folds, he massaged her tight opening lightly. “Is this what you want? Or do you want my fingers inside you?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Yes to the first question or…?”

“Ben Solo, I swear to god!” she growled threateningly.

Grinning at her heated reply, Ben gently penetrated her slick entrance, groaning as her wet flesh parted for his thick middle finger. “You’re so wet!” he said appreciatively, twisting his wrist as he pushed deeper.

“I can’t help it!” Rey confessed, clutching at his sleeve. “We haven’t been able to make love in days and I’ve been going crazy!”

Maintaining a death grip on the steering wheel with his free hand, Ben added a second finger, curling them in a come-hither motion while his thumb found her pulsing clitoris. “Did you touch yourself last night? Wishing I was coherent enough to satisfy you?”

“Yes!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Ben said sincerely, gliding in and out of her with practiced skill, “but I’m here now.”

Traffic was thinning out as they neared the exit to the expressway, so Ben chanced a longer glance at his lover. Body tense, head thrown back, eyes shut firmly against the blinding pleasure he was giving her…damn, she was beautiful. She was everything he could ever ask for in a partner and more, and somehow, she loved him. Sometimes he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

“Ben! I’m so close!” Rey said excitedly, sitting up straighter as he continued to finger her, bending her knees and lifting her feet to rest on the edge of the seat.

The position opened her up to him ever more as the sweater fell away from her thighs, and Ben was suddenly, exceptionally glad for the illegal tint on his windows. He’d been working on his possessive tendencies over the last few months, but the thought of anyone else seeing Rey in such a vulnerable state was disturbing.

“Baby, please,” Rey begged, lifting her hips in time with the motion of his hand.

“What do you need?” he rasped.

“Harder! Faster!”

Ben redoubled his efforts, vigorously rubbing her clit as he thrust a third digit into her honeyed depths, enjoying the way her voice cracked as he filled her. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged, “fall over the cliff; I’ll catch you.”

Rey began to shake as she neared completion, tossing her head from side to side against the headrest, simultaneously trying to pull away and get closer to his searching fingers. And then she was tipping over the precipice, screaming his name in a riot of pleasure before collapsing against his side.

——————

Ben curved his arm around her shoulders as she came down, pulling her closer. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing,” she whispered, nuzzling against his bicep. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ben said. “Now that you’re—ah—Rey?”

“Yes?” she said innocently.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…” Rey said, skating her fingertips up his broad thigh to the tie of his gray sweatpants.

“Rey.”

“Hmm?” she murmured, already sliding her hand into his pants and under the band of his black silk boxers.

Ben managed not to jerk the wheel as she grasped his hard member, but only just. “Fuck!”

“Oh, baby, you must be in so much pain,” she baited, gently stroking him from tip to hilt.

“You have no idea,” he gritted out.

“No?” Rey pulled back, hooking her fingers in his waistband. “Let’s see what we can do about that then. Lift your hips.”

After a brief hesitation, Ben carefully took his foot off the gas and lifted away from the driver’s seat, allowing Rey to tug his pants down far enough to free his arousal. He was too far gone to deny her at this point, regardless off his misgivings, and they both knew it.

“Good boy,” she said approvingly, wrapping both hands around him this time. Rey let out an appreciative whistle as he grew impossibly harder in her grasp, adrenaline mixing with their natural chemistry to create a perfect storm of love and lust. “Damn.”

“Like what you see?” Ben murmured.

“You know I do.” Rey licked her lips, stealing his focus away from the road again.

Hell, who are you kidding? Ben thought fondly. She’s been districting me since day one.

Having grown up as the son of a prominent politician, Ben was used to minding his manners in public. But the more he made love with Rey, the more he wanted her; regardless of the appropriateness of time or location. If fanciful things like soulmates and kindred spirits really existed, Rey was definitely his.

“Don’t miss the entrance,” she reminded him wryly when he continued to stare at her.

“Shit!” Snapping back to attention, Ben quickly boarded the on-ramp and merged onto the empty freeway. “Wow, that was a close—oof!” he grunted as Rey suddenly unbuckled her seatbelt and scrambled over the middle console to straddle his lap.

“Rey!” he protested, caging her in as he grabbed the steering wheel with both hands to avoid running off the road.

“Keep driving,” she said huskily, lifting up to align their bodies. “I’ll do all the work.”

“Rey, I don’t think—oh, fuck!” Ben rumbled as she impaled herself on his thick erection.

“Ben!” she whimpered, rocking back and forth until he was fully seated inside her sticky heat.

Knuckles turning white on the controls, Ben barely resisted the urge to close his eyes as Rey made love to him. “You feel so good!” he choked.

“So do you!” Rey bit her lip, shifting so slowly that Ben could only classify her movements as sensual torture. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too!” Ben palmed her left buttock, needing to touch her despite the risk.

Rey moaned as he kneaded her supple skin, bracing her knees on the seat and her hands on his broad shoulders so that she could rise up and down more quickly.

“Do you know why green apple is my favorite flavor?” Ben asked, recalling the lollipop now taking up residence on the floorboard.

“No!” Rey panted, grinding down against him.

“It’s because you tasted like green apple the first time we kissed,” he said hoarsely, shockwaves rocketing up his spine as she twisted her hips. “You had just downed an appletini at—”

“Mos Eisley Cantina,” Rey supplied, looping her arms around his neck. “Wow, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ben said tenderly. “You mean everything to me.”

Rey froze for space of seconds, staring at him with her heart in her eyes, and then she was kissing the breath out of him, melding their lips and bodies and souls together with a fervor that scorched him. Pulling over before he lost his mind altogether, Ben quickly threw the car into park and discarded his seatbelt.

“Baby, baby, I need you to—ah!” Rey gasped as he dragged her sweatshirt over her head and half-swallowed her right breast.

Suckling her plump nipples in turn, Ben circled her waist, matching Rey’s rhythm and driving her toward a second climax with every powerful thrust of his hips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, starting to lose his grip as her sheath clamped down on his cock so tightly he thought he might faint from the pleasure of it.

“I’m almost—I—”

As Rey’s exquisite body danced before him, it finally dawned on Ben that he was still mostly clothed while she was completely nude. Enthralled by the dichotomy, he reached between their bodies to caress Rey’s sopping core, strumming her clit and sucking her nipples until her back arched and she was crying out in supplication.

“Ben!” she whined. “I’m—I’m coming! Oh, god! I’m—Ben!”

Her release triggering his own, Ben crushed her against him, burying his face in her sweetly scented hair as he floated on a cloud of physical and emotional satisfaction. There was no one else like her in all the world, no one else who could match him. After years of fending off debutants and gold-diggers, Ben knew that he had finally found the one.

Damn, he was lucky.

——————

“Are you okay?” Rey queried, running her fingers through his hair in the aftermath. “Still feeling hungover?”

“Between you and the car horn I’m a little deaf now, but other than that…” he teased, trailing his fingers up and down her smooth back. “I feel right as rain, sunshine.”

“Oh my god! I didn’t even realize I was pressing against it!” Rey laughed, impishly pecking him on the lips. “I guess things got a little out of hand.”

“A little?” Ben said sardonically, indicating their state of undress. “The party last night was a little out of hand. What we just shared was out of this world.”

“Cosmic,” she agreed happily, snuggling against his firm chest. “And you know what I want now?”

“More?” he leered.

“Breakfast!”

“You’re still thinking about food?” Ben said in mock indignation, leaning down to pry the dirty green lollipop off his pristine floor mat and pointing it at her accusingly. “I give you all I have to give while trying not to crash the car and—”

Rey silenced him with a kiss, taking the sucker out of his hand and tossing it into an empty cup holder. “Feed me and we can spend the rest of the day in bed.”

“Well, if that isn’t the best deal I’ve heard all day,” Ben grinned, helping her back into her own seat before setting their clothing to rights. “It’s a shame you have to put that old hoodie back on though, you look so much better without it.”

“I’m sure,” Rey retorted, rolling her eyes. “Now, let’s eat!”

Later, when they were finally seated at Maz’s diner and Rey was diving into a mountain of pancakes and bacon, Ben couldn’t help but think that burnt toast and runny eggs had never tasted so good.

-FIN-

——————

A/N: First of all: don’t have sex and drive, friends! Cause you will crash and you will die! Second of all: thanks for indulging me and reading my little smutty fic! I have a tone of other Reylo fics, so please check them out as well!