#I guess it’s better to say making friends with others outside of her own experiences

[impossible-rat-babies]

if I had a nickel for every time I’ve had a da protag after I romance someone be like “hmm not really my sexuality vibe” I would have two nickels. but bc it’s happened years apart it’s kinda wild*

*I don’t know anymore what is eshka’s sexuality

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 33 of 35

3759 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

The doctors' office is a little too cheery for your liking. It's painted in bright sunshine yellows with smiling photos on the wall. Jin had said that his friend specialised in family therapy and so the office would reflect that but he had also assured you that the man had experience in Jungkook's level of anxiety.

The rabbit practically vibrated as he sat next to you. You wish there was more you could do to alleviate his anxiety but holding his hand and gently stroking his hair is all you can provide right now. You are just thankful that is only the two of you in the room. The doctor's secretary had allowed you to wait in the treatment room before the doctor returned from lunch away from other patients waiting for other doctors.

You glance at Jungkook's face, trying to gauge exactly how bad he might be feeling on a scale of hiding under the covers to an actual heart attack. So far he seems to be at the point of his eyes popping out of his skull. You try to pull him more into your lap in the protective way you've seen Namjoon do in the past. He settles a little more into your side but his demeanour doesn’t change. You want to say something soothing but you keep coming up blank."

Just as well, because the door opens and in walks a man can only assume is Jin's therapist friend. He is shorter than you had pictured, with round spectacles and the bald patches that come naturally to some with age.

"Good afternoon both! My name is Doctor Treiver!" he says cheerily "I was awfully surprised when Jin asked me for this favour, I was starting to think the man was never going to find a mate, let alone two."

"Actually there's seven of us, not including Jin so eight I guess." you supply awkwardly.

Jungkook cowers into your side trying to evade the therapist's gaze.

"Ah even better, the doctor deserves an entire family to spoil" The older gentleman smiles fondly. "Anyway enough about him. I assume we are here to talk about you?'

He turns to Jungkook making the rabbit squirm. You try your best to make him face the therapist but it doesn't work he buries his nose in your scent gland and refuses to move away.

The man raises an eyebrow at you but all you can do is shrug apologetically.

"Would it make you feel more comfortable if I talk about me for a little while?"

Jungkook still doesn't respond so he forges on. He talks about being a dog hybrid and about his family: how his wife has gone back to school, and his daughters just had a dance recital that he'd been so proud to watch.

He eats up all of the time talking about himself. But miraculously it seems to distract Jungkook. He begins to unfurl, listening to Dr. Triever talk, he still won't offer any conversation of his own but he doesn't have a vice grip on your arm as the session draws to a close. He almost looks disappointed as the doctor winds to a close.

“Unfortunately that’s all the time we have, my next patient will be here shortly so we will perhaps have to take a rain check on me getting to know about you Jungkook. Jin has booked this session for you for the next few weeks, would you like to keep it?”

Jungkook nods slightly and Dr. Treiver smiles and claps his hands. 

“Wonderful,  that’s settled then, I’ll see you next week!”

The elder man rises and shows the two of you to the door. Jungkook’s arm wraps fully around yours again as he nervously makes his way through the full waiting room. Only when you are back at the car, does the colour start to reflood his cheeks. 

“Do you want to drive?” You ask him as you approach.

“No.” He manages to squeak out. 

You open the passenger door for him and run around to the driver's side.

“Are you hungry?” You ask

“Yoongi left us some snacks,” He responds.

“And Jin left us his credit card for your treat. How about you and I hook a laptop up to the big screen and start shopping for everything we need for the new rooms?”

He looks excited at the prospect and now you’re alone, his sunshiny attitude has returned and he babbles on about trinkets he wants to buy for himself and the others. It’s clear he has been thinking about this the most out of all of you since the house upgrades had been suggested. Considering you had all assumed he would be taking it the hardest you were all rather surprised by this outcome, but then he had only really spent ten months in the original hovel, and he was now being offered his wildest dreams (or his most reasonable dreams if Namjoon had a say).

You want to ask him how he is feeling following the appointment but you hold your tongue, thinking it might be better saved for a family meeting later this evening so he doesn’t have to rehash his feelings on more than one occasion. 

As soon as you walk into the apartment Jungkook bounces into the kitchen and gathers his favourites of the snacks Yoongi left behind. In the meanwhile, you rummage through the drawers for a HDMI cable.

You play through Amazon listings like Tinder, adding yes’ to the basket and judging the hell out of the no’s. You find yourselves looking through more and more bizarre furniture listings until you stumble across tables with animal legs and chairs that look more like avant-garde art pieces. 

Namjoon comes home early and crashes into the bed next to you. He seems less than impressed that you are adding so many things that he cannot buy you into the basket but Jungkook knows the right things to search to have him join in your little game. The rabbit puts the ugliest typewriter he can find on the screen making Namjoon physically retch. It has Namjoon snatching the keyboard away from him and you launching to get it back.

Namjoon catches you easily, keeping the keyboard far out of your reach.

“That thing is a crime against reality! You’ve both just lost your keyboard privileges,” he says.

He places the electronic on to the sofa and then readjusts you into his lap properly.

“We are just putting things in the basket, right? You’re not actually buying anything?” Namjoon asks timidly.

“We haven’t bought anything yet no… only because we thought getting things delivered here would cause logistical issues,” you shrug.

“Then I guess I can play…” Namjoon confirms.

He places the keyboard back into your lap and wraps his arms around you so he can type. Jungkook cuddles up to Namjoon’s arm and your game continues. Namjoon’s mind is much more creative than yours and Jungkook’s had been. He enters things you would’ve never thought of pulling up bizarre appliances and inventive contraptions, he also finds some rather concerning yet arousing intimate apparatus that has you blushing and hiding your face, even though the thought is intriguing. Apparently, Jungkook feels the same way as you hear a whine involuntarily escape his throat.

You are interrupted from going any further as the door slams open and Jimin and Yoongi walk through. You haven’t realised how late it had gotten. 

The pair join you in your little game until Jin comes home. You had wanted to wait for Taehyung before you ate dinner, but he rang and told you he wouldn’t be able to leave his family estate until very late today. So you all eat without him, leaving a plate of leftovers in the fridge with a note for him.

__________________

Taehyung pov

Returning had become a tedious exercise long before Taehyung had met the pack, now it was practically unbearable. Unfortunately, as the tax year came to a close, his parents' businesses required more attention, and by extension more appearances of their eldest son.

They had been disappointed with him for a while now. A series of tawdry flings and a couple of minor arrests in his late teens had really made them lose faith in him. No one could blame him for the way he acted, there was always just so much… pressure. And having skipped out the night before in favour of watching you and Jungkook had done nothing to enamour him to them right now.

“You waste so much of your potential Taehyung,” His father sighs dejectedly.

“You knew last night was important, why weren’t you here?” His mother implores

Taehyung doesn’t know how to answer exactly… He hasn’t exactly mentioned the pack to his family. They wouldn’t approve of him partnering with someone they deemed to be in a lower economic class. He explained his absence from the family home with a selection of trips, flings, and slumber parties to try and offset the amount of time he was spending away. He was sure they had their suspicions, after all, he always returned reeking of specific scents. The knowing glances his sister kept shooting him confirmed that he wasn’t being as subtle as he had hoped.

He had rather hoped to find a time to introduce them to just Jin to start with, sure they would accept a doctor as his partner. Although it kills him to think they may never meet you or Jimin or anyone else, not as his mates anyway. He can’t risk losing his trust fund by pissing his family off too much though, he needed it to support all of you.

“Ah Eomma, I told you, I was at a friend's and had car trouble. I promise it won’t happen again,” he replied. 

“It better not young man, you know this is an important time for our company. You need to be seen at all events.” His father said sternly.

They sit through an incredibly awkward family meal of food that is far too fancy and nowhere near filling as Taehyung’s father explains each of their roles in the coming weeks. As per usual, Taehyung is to be seen and not heard. It is all pretty standard, His family have given them the same role since it became clear he was probably not going to be the head of the entire business (They only gave him the visa business as it was their least lucrative asset)

However, at the usual end of his father’s speech, he pauses and looks at Taehyung directly.

“You’re not going to like this part Taehyung-ah, but it’s time,”

“Time for what?” Taehyung asked, suspicion peaked.

His parents look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them until his mother nods.

“Time for you to marry,” His mother continues

Taehyung sits there with his mouth agape like a goldfish. His siblings shuffle uncomfortably on either side but he can’t work out if it’s a sign of surprise or guilt.

“We have spoken with the Hirely family and we believe their second daughter would be an advantageous match for you.

The Hirely’s are a family that owns a lot of businesses in similar facets to the Kim’s.

“That’s absurd. You cannot expect me in this day and age to agree to this!” Taehyung shouts.

He slams his hands on the table as he stands in indignation.

“Sit back down Taehyung!” His father shouts. “Their second daughter is a perfectly acceptable young woman and it is time for you to stop with this behaviour of yours. If you do not accept, we will be forced to exclude you from the business,”

“Look, Taehyung, we didn’t want to do this, but you’ve left us with no choice. Your reputation reflects poorly on our family dear. We really do believe this is for the best,” His mother has the gall to look guilty about the situation.

The room is silent. Taehyung grips the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. He is left with very few choices. He can go through with the engagement, he can come clean and become immediately disowned, he could accept the engagement and hope to convince her to call it off, or he can bargain. He makes his excuses and leaves the house trying to think of his exit strategy. 

The obvious choice is to turn them down flat, but then he wouldn’t be able to help provide for the new lifestyle you had all been getting so excited over. Then introducing his family to just Jin would be potentially messy, the entire pack would need to know the situation and he would have to expose how… old fashioned his family were. Going ahead with it to try and get her to call it off was even riskier, he had no idea what was at stake for his supposed bride.

By the time he returns to Jin’s flat everyone is asleep, he tiptoes passed the three of you in the living room and into the kitchen for a drink but when he opens the fridge, he finds the leftovers with Jimin’s note attached.

Taehyung-ie we missed you Yeobo, eat well and sleep well, Love.

He smiles and kisses the note before slipping it into his pocket and scarfing down the leftovers. He sits at the breakfast bar and watches you, Jimin, and Jungkook as you sleep. He watches as you and Jungkook cocoon Jimin in between you, nuzzling into his scent markers and making him whimper a little in his dreams. He knows right then that giving in to his parents is not an option.

_____________ 

The next few days continue similarly for you and Jungkook. You grow bored of looking for new furniture that you can’t have yet and move on to paint swatches. But there is only so much you can do without a wall to paint.

Next, the pair of you try baking, but it only takes Jin seeing the state of his kitchen after an all-night shift to put a stop to that (Jungkook had never used a blender that was able to start without its lid before, how was he supposed to know it would spray that high…

You suggest gaming but Jungkook had only bought his switch without the tv dock so you have to pass the console back and forth.

You had never realised how tiring it was to think of things to fill your day. Even at your parent's home you had managed to find things to do like study or clean or read. But Jin’s place was spotless (save the batter on the ceiling) and his books were largely medical journals that were far too wordy.

You contemplate asking Tae if you can go back to work for a few days a week, but he always comes home so late and seems so busy at the moment that you never get the chance.

Eventually, you and Jungkook settle into a routine of TV and napping, and maybe a little fooling around in the process. The others all shake their heads as they walk in after work and see the two of you curled up together yet again.

Before you know it the week rolls around again and it’s time for Jungkook’s second therapy session. 

______

Jungkook still attaches himself to you with a vicelike grip as you walk into the doctor’s office. This time dr Treiver is already waiting for the two of you, large grin in place as he says his hellos.

Jungkook manages to squeak an introduction this time and you find yourself exceedingly proud of him. He doesn’t manage too much more, although he occasionally nods to the doctor’s questions. Dr Treiver writes some notes on an iPad about the limited motions Jungkook provides.

“I’m glad you’re feeling more open this time Jungkook, I know this isn’t easy for you. I hope we can build a much more successful relationship over time. For now, though would it make you feel better if I also asked Y/N some questions,”

The rabbit looks at you uncertainly but you nod and put him at ease. If it will help him, you don’t mind. 

The doctor doesn’t really ask you anything of interest, he mostly just asks for surface-level information, things similar to what he spoke about the week before. You tell him a little about your parents and your husband, nothing you haven’t told the pack before. Then you tell him a little about your life now. It makes you blush talking about how happy you’ve been. Jungkook smiles wide and his grip relaxes as he listens to you.

Once again the session comes to an end without Jungkook having said a word. He is however sitting independently now, having shuffled away a tiny bit so he could look at you better while you spoke. You noticed that the doctor wasn’t paying particular attention to you anyway, he had been watching Jungkook’s body language the entire time.

You take him to the drive-through for ice cream after this session. He is far less wound up than the last time. 

_________________

He finally talks to the doctor in the fourth session. He stammers, he stutters, he fumbles his words. But he talks.

Not about anything in particular, he avoids a lot of questions and mostly focuses on other people. He talks about Namjoon’s new book, Yoongi and Hoseok’s song, Jin being too tired. It sounds like a whole lot of nothing to you, but Dr. Treiver leans in like it’s the most fascinating information in the world. And for all you know about psychology, it might’ve been.

______________

Eight weeks after work began, you are informed that the building work on the outside annexe you had requested has been completed. It’ll be another six or so months until the main house is completed, but Jin’s lease was coming to an end and he hadn’t wanted to renew it for a full year if it wasn’t going to be necessary, hence the addition of what is essentially a granny flat in the yard.

You and Jungkook head out to see it after everyone heads to work. You’ve set up for two large beds and some sofas to be delivered ready for you all to use. Taehyung and Namjoon promised to meet you there later to help move things around. But for now, it was just you, Jungkook, and an empty building waiting to be painted. 

The granny flat had four rooms: a bathroom, two bedrooms, and open space for a living room with a small kitchen. You had asked for the living room and bathroom to be fully decorated and ready but Jimin had thought it would be more fun if you could put your own spins on the bedrooms and personal spaces. Taehyung and Jin had moaned a little about the manual labour, but Jungkook had puppy dog eyes that no one could refuse so he and Jimin got their ways.

You cart in a selection of paint can swatches and set about pasting them all onto the walls. You start in the first bedroom. Jungkook picks ten colours for himself leaving you with ten more and you both get to work. He starts on the wall facing the window and you start on one with less direct lighting and then you switch.

You stand back and swipe hair out of your face, after finishing 20 foot-by-foot squares.

“I think we might have gotten too many options…” You point out.

Jungkook stands back to admire his work as well.

“I’m not sure we have enough…” Jungkook counters.

“You don’t like any of them?”

“I like all of them, but I’m not sure any of them are right for us,” he shrugs.

“Well this is only our spare rooms, they don’t have to be perfect,” you reason

He whines dejectedly in response and you hold your hands up in surrender.

“How about a combination of these?” You point at your favourite of the cream options and a blue. “Looks kinda like the sky, we could do something with that,”

“Maybe we should have someone paint a mural?” Jungkook suggests.

“Or you could paint one for us,” You say.

Jungkook had a few paintings and supplies he had been working on through the week that had caught your eye, he really came with many surprise talents. 

He contemplates the idea for a moment, then his hand flicks up as if mimicking a brush. The only problem is, he is still holding a brush, one loaded with paint. 

Paint that is now splattered across your t-shirt... You look at him with mock indignation. He begins to apologise, but before he gets the chance you pick up your brush straight from the tin and splatter blue all down Jungkook’s jeans. 

“Hey, mine was an accident!” He pouts

“Mine too,” you shrug teasingly.

He growls, although the sound is rather unthreatening, and closes the gap between you, hugging you close and printing his paint splatter onto you in the process. 

You think that might be the end of it until you feel the brush bristles against the fabric on your bum. Jungkook giggles as he draws a pattern, keeping you restrained with one hand. 

He lets you go when he is finished and you turn to see the reflection in the window. There is a little bunny emblazoned on the left cheeks of your jeans.

That begins an all-out war. Paint gets poured over heads, and handprints can be found in suspicious places by the time you surrender.

“We should shower,” he says, looking down at himself

“We don’t have any towels,” you point out.

“I don’t mind watching you air dry…”

“Why do I feel like that would lead to something where we might have to shower a second time!”

“I mean we could just do that in the first shower… two birds one stone,” he winks.

“We also don’t have spare clothes,” you reason

“I’ll text Namjoon-ie to bring us some,” he counters.

You can see the horny glint in his eye and know you’re fighting a losing battle, it would be best just to do as he wants. And so you do. He tells Namjoon you need new clothes, and the older man doesn’t even think to ask why, he just lets you know he will be around 45 minutes, an amount of time Jungkook deems as perfect as he takes your hand and escorts you to the new bathroom so you can ‘christen’ the shower together. 

Next

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn’t have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you’re feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn’t have to be BTS

two chapters to go... unless... I may have planned a 36th chapter but it has more extra content than the actual plot, maybe an epilogue

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

"Difficult to please"

"Focalors with a reader that can switch bodies"

Characters: Focalors x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: The obvious things right away: I've never written for Focalors before nor do we have much information about her yet, so I wrote her mostly from my gut feeling after seeing her in the Fountaine trailer.

Anyway, I love Furina as you might have guessed by me changing my theme for her. She's such a little gremlin and her design is so beautiful. I can't wait to see her and how she changes (well, hopefully somewhat to the better at least) in the story.

I’m going to use “Focalors” and “Furina” interchangeably, since I’m 99.99% sure they’re the same person, but hey, if Hoyoverse somehow pulls a huge twist on us and I get it wrong it would also be kinda funny.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Focalors

To say that you were nothing more than a glorified babysitter for Fountaine’s Archon would have been a massive understatement. Once a young law student aspiring to one day become a judge, it didn’t take you long in your position as lawyer to attract the attention of your archon. Not in the “have a vision and beat up the bad guys” kind of way, however. Instead the weird clients you represented never failed to deliver her a somewhat entertaining spectacle, causing the Chief Justice to “volunteer” you as the Archon’s advisor… a role that, while sounding nice, de facto only had the responsibility of keeping her entertained enough to not sully any more court hearings than necessary with her cries of boredom.

When you found out about your powers to switch bodies, you knew better than to tell anyone other than your closest companions… especially Furina. While she got away with her attitude in her own body, you didn’t even want to fathom how many friends she’d be able to alienate or from how many shops she’d get you banned from if she did the same while running around in yours.

However, all of your hard work of keeping it a secret eventually turned out to be futile, as the Archon would eventually figure it out one way or another. After all, the reason she got so little done was not for a lack of ability, she simply didn’t care about most cases and delegated them to whatever judge crossed her path first, but when you began acting a bit stiff around her, the challenge of figuring the reason out was more than enough to keep her on your case.

If it weren’t for the fact that a small voice in your head worried about where to start a new life after having your entire image destroyed by the one currently occupying your body, you would have found the day in your Archon’s body amazing, you got to attend as many court cases as you wanted without anyone batting as much as an eye, got to have your first experiences as a judge and even didn’t have to pay for any of the most delicious food and drinks Fountaine got to offer. The stares you received from the other officials, probably wondering what could have happened for their notoriously difficult Archon to have such a good day, were a bit much at some times, but it was not like you were complaining.

“I want to change back!”, Focalors demanded the moment she stepped into her office, swinging the door behind her shut with as much force as she could muster and not even wincing in the slightest at how loud it was. Beelining towards the couch as she let herself fall onto it, letting out a groan of annoyance loud enough to make any bird sleeping outside fall out of its nest.

“Can’t handle being asked out all the time?”, you tried to crack a joke, knowing all too well that answering earnestly would only earn you a bored sigh.

“Ha!”, Furina let out a loud laugh before turning her face towards you. “Remind me to make you my court jester the next time we are in need of one”, she stated sarcastically before looking back at the ceiling. For your and Fountaine’s sakes however, you decided to disregard her order and to not to remind her of how she had just fired the last one for “being boring”.

“Aren’t you humans supposed to have interesting lives? What happened to ‘live every day like it's your last one’? Or is doing *this* what you all desire??”, she asked while extending her arms and wildly signaling into the air.

“What did you do all day?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible even though your mind was starting to panic about what you might be greeted with tomorrow. But instead of answering your question, your Archon ignored you and continued to complain about how boring your life was, causing you to start worrying even more.

“I bet you loved this day, watching boring court cases, getting any food you desired for free, being asked for your opinion… eugh”, she let out yet another groan, making you wonder how easy it was for her to read you.

“Furina.”

“Anyway, I want my body back. So give it to me”, she continued to ignore you as she stated her earlier demand once again.

“What did you do while in my body, Furina?”, you asked one last time, grabbing both of her shoulders to force eye contact with her.

“You’ll probably have some explaining to do. I honestly want to see it all play out, it’s going to be the most entertainment I’ve had in months”, she answered off-handedly, causing you to bury your face in your palms as she continued on as if nothing happened.

“I’ll make you a judge as compensation, it’ll be a win-win. You’ll get to do what you always wanted to do and I may get one or two interesting hearings out of it”, Furina stated before pulling your hands away from your face and placing her forehead on yours, prompting the two of you to finally change bodies.

Yet, her offer caused you to feel even more conflicted than you already were. Finally, it was your time to let out a groan.

“That’s Nepotism.”

“I don’t care”, she responded bluntly, forcing you to use all your self control not to fall into the deep pit of hopelessness for your nation currently seeming to open in front of you. “Didn’t you want to become a judge?”

“Yes, but I want to earn it!”

What followed were a couple of seconds of silence before Furina turned around, walked over to a different couch, sat down, let out a long sigh and spoke a sentence so laced with irony that you didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at it.

“Fine. Geez, you’re so difficult to please.”

[sapphicdib]

"i could gush about my sig headcanons all day but auuughvjgghh". You know what, do it. I dare you. After that sleepy iterators post I'm itching for more headcanons to ponder.

SORRY THIS IS RLLY LATE, IVE BEEN WORKING A LOT

THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME HAVE AN EXCUSE TO HAVE A CATEGORY 10 AUTISM MOMENT ON THE DASH. this is legit about to be a better essay than anything ive ever turned in for university so strap in, obv everything is gonna be under the cut bc this is prolly gonna be long as fuck

Okay! My main headcanons for Sig are:

He uses he/she/it pronouns, but mainly he/she!

He's a bioengineering dork.

She's a specialized medical facility!

She doesn't really care much about the great problem, and thus has a lot of hobbies. He knitted her own scarf!

She has a lot of friends, even outside of the local group. He's incredibly close with Chasing Wind.

He's a mid-gen iterator, (Ages being: LTTM, SRS, SOS, CW, NSH, UI, FP), so his emotional AI is a lot more advanced than Suns' (there's quite a gap between the two, Suns is closer to Moon in terms of age).

She considers Hunter to be her daughter, Hunter calls him her dadmom and Moon her mom.

He tends to bury these emotions down for the sake of others, which leads to...bad situations.

She's terrified of being alone :)

Sig just gives me gender fucky-wucky vibes. Her pronouns are the/bit and he's committed to it. There's not really a basis for this in canon but it just fits his personality of being pretty laid back and goofy when not in um. emotional distress. Also the accessorizing to his puppet (ie the scarf) makes me think he likes to experiment with her appearance and presentation. To add on to this in the streamer au she goes by any pronouns and is pretty androgynous, so none of his followers can tell his AGAB, and its funny to him to watch the chat argue about it. (He's AFAB, tbh I can't see her as anything else). No one can guess his sexuality either, the only "confirmed" thing seems to be polyamourous, but other than that it's "whatever makes it gay", or "whatever pisses you off most".

Sig obviously has a knack for bioengineering, as he was the one who started investigating the idea of using purposed messengers to stay in contact with others once the comms degraded, not to mention the creation of the slag reset keys. Yes this is my incoming rant of "Sig is not bad at making slugcats", since sometimes people tend to act like "Sig didn't follow Suns' instructions" or something like that, and that's why Hunter is sick. There are MULTIPLE points in their conversations where it's outright stated that Sig was the one who did it first:

Sig was the one who showed Suns the process:

SRS: I purposed a messenger, and sent the information by land via a data pearl. NSH: How original of you. SRS: I learned from the best.

Sig clearly has experiences with messengers, and Spearmaster happens before Sig begins working on Hunter:

NSH: I feel like I need to be simplifying my speech patterns. Is that something you do when conversing with your messenger?

SUNS SAYS "ANOTHER" MESSENGER, AND THEN LATER SIG SAYS "ANOTHER MESSENGER" AS WELL. SIG HAS MADE MESSENGERS BEFORE:

SRS: Do you suppose you'll ever raise another messenger?

NSH: I'm tempted to start work on raising another messenger as a last ditch effort, but to be honest I don't think there is any point.

And then, in her reply, she says, "*I* started investigating the method".

NSH: If the need arises, I certainly would. After all, I started investigating the method out of the inevitability of our situation.

And just to nail it down that Sig was the one who purposed them first, the gossip between Wandering Omen and Pleading Intellect:

PI: You haven't heard about what No Significant Harassment did? WO: All I heard was the complaining. Didn't he send an iterator something distasteful? PI: Well, yes, but more importantly, he trained a purposed organism to deliver it!

WO: How do you even get a dull creature such as that to follow orders? I may consider asking him to teach me his ways.

So yes, Sig was the one to purpose the messengers first. She had already made at least one in the past, to send the "distasteful message" to someone. I'd honestly say he probably made more between that/before, to test the efficacy and also just to mess around with the process.

This leads into my next headcanon: Sig was a specialized medical facility! Five Pebbles mentions to Hunter that "I was not a medical facility even when the equipment was functioning," so I believe that there were some more specialized iterators built. Sig's knowledge of bioengineering could be an indication of this specialization, not to mention it fits with him not really caring about the great problem to the same degree as everyone else. Purely headcanon after this point, but when Sig was first built, Moon was very nervous about getting a new model of "specialized" iterator that she wouldn't be able to help train as well! Moon was a more generalized iterator as she was older, so she does have knowledge about medicine and bioengineering, as all iterators did for the health and growth of her city, but nothing to the degree Sig would need. Thankfully, iterators are fucking supercomputers, so its not like Sig needed much "training" in the way of that, but still. Moon wanted to be a good mentor to her! And she very much was, considering how Sig turned out. That's why they ended up so close.

After the mass ascension, he became the resident "doctor" of the local group. Pointing back to the slag reset keys, Sig seems to have shoved as many as he could into that thing, since Pebbles reacts to the amount of them with surprise, so he knows his way around iterator biology. In pure headcanon mode now, when they develop my tangible projections thing (which Sig and Moon were heavily involved in), it meant that she could actually help others by preforming repairs on their puppets, and even their structures by sending her overseer into them. Moon's inspectors enjoy head pats from her whenever he's passing by.

Her being a medical facility also means she doesn't give as much thought to finding the Triple Affirmative as others. His processing power was delegated more towards finding cures, aiding the sick, and engineering better production techniques for medical equipment and such. His city is also highly accessible and optimized for the disabled and elderly. When you're a medical facility, your goal is more to keep people alive than perma-kill them! I mostly get this headcanon from the fact that when Suns is faced with "what to do" other than solve the great problem, they respond with "What else CAN we do? You're stuck in your can, and at any moment you have no more than two alternatives: Do nothing, or work like you're supposed to.". Meanwhile, Sig responds to Suns' question about purposing another messenger with "There's nothing better for me to do with my time, though.". Not to mention, he was already purposing messengers before this, so she certainly wasn't dedicating all of her time to iterating the great problem! Of course, he probably did iterate on it, just not to the degree his peers did. He also jokes about it in that broadcast where Wind is telling everyone about erratic pulse, saying "Haha with the slimers, lizards and etceteras? Surely the answer was in a lizard skull all along!" so it really seems like he doesn't take it very seriously.

Her disinterest in solving the problem led to her developing a wide range of hobbies. He's an iterator after all, they probably get horrifically bored if they're not doing something! She taught herself to knit (telling his citizens it helped her focus so they would provide her with needles and yarn), and eventually learns to make garments as well. I headcanon he plays video games too, especially with Chasing Wind, mostly just because she probably wanted to see if an iterator could run Doom for the lolz. Probably also trolls in the group chats sometimes, considering the "distasteful pearl", and I think her being being NGI ("No Great Ideas") would be funny as hell. This also makes it pretty obvious why I made the streamer au, Sig's a top level player for multiple FPS games and has won some pretty prestigious awards in esports tournaments. And then she goes home and plays Hollow Knight randomizers with Pebbles in a maid outfit.

Sig's personality also lent itself to having a lot of friends. Her and Chasing Wind were built less than 50 cycles apart (Wind is older), so they're practically attached at the hip. Wind isn't in her local group (He's in Sliver's), but they're still very close. It's not really explored much in canon since we really only see her interact with Suns for the most part, but given her personality, I don't think it'd be a far off assumption for him to have lots of friends. Because she's younger, she also has a more sophisticated emotional AI...which can be detrimental at times, but is helpful when it comes to maintaining friendships!

AHAH So here comes the um. SAD portion of the rant lol. I feel like Sig buries her emotions down a lot, for the sake of others. In her conversations with Suns, we do see him get snappy with him, but for the most part he remains either calm or sympathetic, at the most a bit pessimistic towards the end. When she finally does call Suns out for their bullshit, he (presumably) stops replying to Suns for a short time before apologizing and continuing to talk to them.

SRS: I'm in noticing you are becoming more defensive. This obviously wasn't the end result I was aiming for, you know. SRS: Please respond to my messages. I don't want to leave it like this. I need someone to talk to. NSH: I don't mean to be cold, I'm just very worried.

After this interaction, Sig seems to either just reply with facts/possibly explanations for Moon/Pebbles' actions, or completely changing the subject to Suns' messenger, which then leads to the broadcast where Suns is telling her all the ways they modified their messenger to sneak past Sig's overseers, by not giving them the mark and hiding the pearl, we see Sig's replies become very short, single sentence answers.

This to me reads as slightly passive aggressive, but Suns doesn't seem to pick up on it. To be honest I in my head I hear this as Sig hissing this shit through clenched teeth if he could, but it's just text so I suppose we'll never know.

Additionally, he still does let his emotions overwhelm her at points, (such as during the "Your plan was a complete failure" broadcast), but the most blatant is probably in the messages she sends to Moon and Pebbles.

Starting with the Pebbles one:

NSH: Five Pebbles, I will say once again. You need to stop. Immediately. NSH: I know you are going to trash this message like the rest, but... NSH: I hope eventually when you are out of this state of mind you will look back at these. NSH: Look back and reflect on all the regrets you've set yourself up to have.

Sig is angry. Like he shows no sympathy for him, and just hopes he wallows in regret for the rest of his life. She does express his dislike of Pebbles while talking to Suns as well, but manages to still be nice by saying "I think a lot of us were like that in the beginning.", and such, and then drops the subject by the next broadcast by talking about Suns' messenger. He only ever talks about Moon's condition, likely to keep himself from being a dick about Pebbles in front of Suns because talking directly about him is obviously pretty touchy. But this broadcast is straight up mean. She doesn't manage to hold back her emotions but to be honest? I don't think he actually cares, if he burns that bridge with Pebbles then fine, because Pebbles burned it first.

Pebbles took away one of the few friends he still had in this dying world.

I really and truly believe that Sig's biggest fear is being alone. She makes the slugcats as a way to keep in contact with others after the comms arrays degrade. After being snappy with Suns, she immediately backtracks, apologizes, and keeps talking to them, even if it hurts. His messages to Moon also emphasize this:

NSH: Moon? Moon, are you able to communicate?

NSH: Moon? It's me again.

NSH: I need to talk to you. I need to know you're okay.

The fact that we are provided two of these broadcasts and not just one seems to point to the idea that these are not the only two Sig sent. "It's me again." There is more desperation in her tone compared to the messages he shares with Suns, possibly because he's more comfortable expressing his profound distress with Moon because they're closer. A part of me headcanons she...never stopped sending messages. He needs to know she's okay. You can even find a green overseer in outer expanse and subterranean, locked out of the facility but still searching, still looking for any sign of Moon...or Hunter.

When Sig sends Hunter to Moon, the pearl he sends is goofy and lighthearted. He doesn't want to bring her down when she's already suffering enough. It's short, and sweet, because anything longer would probably devolve into something unpleasant. She's holding the words on that pearl together with tape and glue. Once again, hiding the pure grief he feels for the sake of others.

I also think that's why Hunter is sick. Once again, pure headcanon, but Sig mentions this on the pearl:

Excuse the unorthodox delivery method, equipment eroding etc etc.

I kinda interpret this as Sig pushing herself too hard to make Hunter in time to save Moon, and in turn, irreversibly damaging himself in the process. An emergency shutdown occurred after he ignores the 50th pressure warning his systems desperately tried to get her to pay attention to, causing Hunter to become sick thanks to the sudden disruption in his concentration, much like Pebbles and the rot. This is also why no other messengers were sent after this, Sig simply couldn't make any more that were healthy. She loved Hunter, and I fully believe that, as Hunter's last vision in the void sea was to return to his arms. Continuing the pure headcanons now, but he treats Hunter like a daughter and knits her a scarf for her journey. She tells Hunter that Moon is her mom. She gives Hunter a name, which were held in very high regard in ancient culture, a gift so she can at least be remembered for her sacrifice: "Hunting the Stars, Moon's Savior."

All and all, Sig is desperately trying to delay the inevitable, watching the walls of loneliness close in as she loses contact with friends, slowly encroaching on her until he's locked up in a box. Alone.

HOWEVER!

I for one, absolutely adore the goofy, flirty personality the fandom gives Sig. I really do believe when he isn't in extreme emotional distress, she is like that. The motherfucker uses tildes in his texts and teases Suns and makes jokes about slimers and lizards. I just like peeling apart the little snippets we see of him, which are mostly at pretty low moments unfortunately, and just seeing what I can extrapolate from that. Even if some of my headcanons are far-fetched and shit, I do at least try to keep most of them at least slightly in character with some explanation.

I hope you enjoyed my unhinged rant about my favorite guy!!!! I put this in google docs and its literally like, 2.4k words, I could genuinely have turned this in to one of my fucking college courses LMFAO. It's probably better than some of the garbage I DID turn in tbh. If you want more I am totally happy to provide, cuz I could make a whole OTHER ramble about Hunter that's just as long LMAOOOO

(Oh also none of this applies to rot au Sig. that freak deserves her own post bc at this point he's 50% oc and 50% No Significant Harassment Rain World LOL)

[synergysilhouette]

Hogwarts Legacy spinoff/sequel wants

As an HL fan, I was absolutely pleased with the game--but for the next one, I'd like some changes/additions.

Make an Ilvermorny spinoff--As an American fan, it'd be so fun to see Ilvermorny in person, preferably in modern day; I'm still confused on how no-maj racism never existed in the Americas if most European purebloods didn't come to America, meaning that most American witches/wizards (of European heritage, at least) would be no-maj borns and half-bloods, and thus be influenced somewhat by no-maj ideals. Placing it in modern day would make it feel a bit more tolerant, imo.

GIVE EVERY HOUSE SOME LOVE WITH SIDEQUESTS--Ravenclaws got screwed terribly since Amit doesn't have his own storyline/quest like the other house representatives. It felt really unfair.

Flesh out the main character's background--It's never explained WHY the student is starting off as a 5th year, nor what kind blood heritage they have, despite this taking place in the late 19th century, when blood heritage would be even more important than it was when Harry Potter was alive a hundred years later. (And nit-pick, but it'd also be nice if we could say if they were from Scotland, England, Wales, Ireland, or another country).

Friendship meter--I like the idea that you can have your friends join you on quests outside of their personal ones, as long as you have a close enough bond with them. Plus it'd be great for diverging storylines; imagine if we could've convinced Sebastian not to use the killing curse if we were close enough with him. I guess that's "Hogwarts Mystery" rubbing off on me (one of the few things I liked about that game).

Romance options--This is probably a minority request, but I'd like the option. I think the devs said romance wasn't a factor because of your possible dark paths, which makes sense, but the aforementioned friendship meter could potentially alleviate this by convincing them to join you (or turn them away from their own dark path).

The option to be a metamorphagus or an animgus (or the sidequest to become one)--It'd be such a fun idea to use these powers on missions.

Change your face after initial designs--I remember being dissatisfied with my character's face after setting him up, and I was disappointed that I couldn't change it afterwards. It'd also be cool if we could experiment with their build/body type a bit.

A better story--Sebastian's sidestory was more interesting than the Goblin uprising, tbh. Even rehashing the blood purity storyline would've been better.

Trials that take place within the world--Maybe it was just me, but I didn't like how the trials took place within an alternate world (except Niamh's trial; hers was creative) rather than using the large world we already had.

[puppy-phum]

i find it so ironic how after becoming blind or, simply, disabled, day also turns invisible. suddenly, he's just not there, like it's not he who cannot see but he who cannot be seen.

ppl don't really talk to him, don't address him, barely give him any choices of his own. they talk over him and past him and around him, about him, surely, but not to him. it's like he's not there. he's this huge responsibility, but he's no longer a person. he's left to places like a dog or an object to wait for others to do all the things for him, and then he's just expected to agree with their plans. the same plans that still affect him and his life and future.

no wonder he's so angry and fed up with everybody. he wants to speak for himself. he wants to be heard and seen again. he used to enjoy having eyes on him – as a national athlete, there obviously were many (admiring, evaluating, assessing) eyes on him, and he liked the spotlight. he's obviously very proud of his own accomplishments and it must be frustrating to be suddenly reduced into nothing. like what he did never mattered. like who he is never mattered.

he is just this now. his blindness. someone who can be overlooked bc he cannot see it anyway. he's not far from being dead, as he puts it himself.

-

meanwhile, mork experiences the brutality of being abandoned over and over again. that's his wound. when his sister leaves, the pain gets the loudest, but even outside of that, he's hearing the same thing over and over again.

from what we got to know, no one ever really learned why exactly rung decided to kill herself. i assume it was the guilt over feeling like she failed mork, like she brought him more peril than was worth living for (debt?). she obviously wanted mork to have a good future, but i guess none of her actions ever translated to mork in that way.

to him, rung left after deciding that mork just wasn't worth it. she took "the easy way out" after realizing that fighting beside mork and tolerating his behavior just weren't worth the effort. mork really wasn't making the best choices, but i don't think he was ever "beyond saving". mork just thinks this is how it all went.

and then he keeps hearing the same thing from others:

after being in jail, his friends abandon him even if he took part in that fight for them. he wasn't enough for them to stick around (not that they were actually that good company, but he knew them, spent time with them, relied on them on some level)

porjai broke up with him bc mork was prioritizing his friends over his girlfriend. which porjai points out humorously, as is part of their friendship as exes, but which lands as a stab anyway. "you weren't enough as you are," it says. "you should've done better to not have me leave you."

no one wants mork to work for them bc all they can see is his past mistakes and not him trying to presently correct them. his skills aren't enough to overshadow what he did. him trying to be better cannot erase those mistakes he already made. "you should've been better to begin with," it says. "there's nothing you can do to change that now."

-

ppl keep turning their backs on mork, leaving him behind, labeling him unworthy or simply not good enough. even day's family does this, looking at him once and going, "you obviously do not belong here."

day disagrees. on some level at least, he disagrees. bc mork actually sees him. after all this time, someone actually sees him again.

meanwhile, well. we had that whole montage at the end of the episode to tell us how badly mork wishes to believe that someone is finally giving him a chance to prove he isn't a lost cause, that he is worth something.

-

my expectations for the second ep are that these two are going to learn just how bad it actually feels when someone is able to see you and how hard you will have to work to prove yourself to those who barely wish to listen.

[sophieinwonderland]

hey sorry if youve been asked this before but i thought itd be appropriate because you kinda feel like the ceo of endogenic systems to me (i respect you) and i was wondering, as a traumagenic system, how exactly endos... work? like not how they exist or about the fact that they do, but i guess what the point of them is if its not from a dissociative disorder? in my experience i cant imagine a system existing for any reason outside of the purpose of compartmentalizing trauma (not that systems should be defined by their trauma but i just dont see how they work otherwise) and even recovering systems that are fully functional and healing were born out of a necessity of the brain. i guess i want to know what necessity would spawn an endogenic system if not as a trauma response? like what do alters in an endogenic system do if theyre not there to protect the brain? why do they exist as a system and split if its not born from psychological necessity? sorry this is such a complicated question i hope i phrased it alright... and to be clear i believe endos and their experiences bc discounting a community just because i dont get them is silly i just feel so confused all the time bc of this and want to understand better

Questions of purpose and why things are how they are can be interesting, but probably the hardest to answer. When it comes down to it, why does anything exist?

Why do birds sing so gay? And lovers await the break of day? Why do they fall in love? Why does the rain fall from up above?

Sorry, what were we talking about? 🤪

Oh yeah! Purpose! Personally I tend to think less in terms of "why" and more in terms of cause and effect.

In the case of alters in DID, do alters actually have a "point?" Is there truly some purpose they serve? Or is it just... reaction?

Someone suffers trauma. The traumatic memories hurt them. In a reaction to this, they dissociate and erect barriers in their mind until they need to access those again. Then they suffer more trauma and put the new traumatic memories in that walled off section. In reaction to that, the bits of memories that were walled off start to form their own identity. Did the child's brain ever actually think "I need to make another person in here to protect myself?" Or was this just a series of actions and reactions that led to alters gaining sentience over time where the initial trauma was merely the first in a string of dominoes?

With this in mind, let's talk about myself.

I was an imaginary friend created as a writing project. But how does that actually work? According to Simulation Theory of empathy, imagining what people do involves the creation of "pretend states."

ST (in its original form) says that people employ imagination, mental pretense, or perspective taking (‘putting oneself in the other person’s shoes’) to determine others’ mental states. A mentalizer simulates another person by first creating pretend states (e.g., pretend desires and beliefs) in her own mind that correspond to those of the target. She then inputs these pretend states into a suitable cognitive mechanism, which operates on the inputs and generates a new output (e.g., a decision). This new state is taken ‘off line’ and attributed or assigned to the target.

This paper goes on to explain how this might be useful:

How is imagination useful for third-person mind reading? If you seek to predict someone’s decision—for example, the choice of a main dish by your dinner companion at a restaurant—how could you use imagination to make this prediction? The first step is to put yourself in your target’s shoes, or take her ‘perspective’. Taking someone’s perspective here means adopting, as far as feasible and in light of what you know about her, the mental states she starts with. This includes her preferences about food in general, what she liked at this restaurant on previous occasions, how hungry she is on the present occasion (did she have a light lunch, no lunch, or a heavy lunch today?), and so forth. Using the imagination, you can simulate being in her various dinner-relevant states. Such pretend states can then be fed into your decision-making mechanism, which generates a decision to order a particular main dish. Having used this simulation process to generate a (pretend) choice, you don’t order this dish yourself but attribute the choice to your companion. Thus, the attribution is based on imagination-driven simulation

Okay, so under this theory, perspective taking involves making new temporary states simulating the behavior of someone else.

This is, to be very clear, not a headmate. The state is likely not going to have any sort of self-consciousness, and will be ephemeral on top of that, disappearing after you're done with it.

But... what if the state isn't allowed to be ephemeral? What if you repeatedly interact with the same "simulation" over and over again?

Let's say, hypothetically, that someone starts with a writing project. They make a character, and then they write that character a lot. This foundation can build pretty detailed simulations. But probably with very limited autonomy. The thing about writing is that you're often controlling the character at some level. At least usually. You're always revising how they act in any given scene, plotting out their backstories, editing those backstories, etc. This makes it hard for this simulation to gain a firm sense of autonomy or self-awareness. And every scene rewrite is basically a new ephemeral instance of that character.

While written characters can make you plural on their own, there are these roadblocks that can get in the way.

But then let's say this person wants to understand this character better, so they start talking to a simulation of the character day after day. Now this version of the character they interact with is able to form memories completely unrelated to the fiction they were based on, and be able to recall past conversations with their creator.

What the creator doesn't realize is the mechanisms needed to make this type of interaction work.

In the example of simulation theory, a temporary state would be made but then it would be abandoned. If you needed to simulate that person again, you make a brand new simulation. A brand new "pretend state."

But if you want an imaginary friend that can think for itself, it has to be able to store its own feelings and memories.

That means a form of compartmentalization.

The brain is going to start storing the imaginary friend's memories separate from the creator's. The creator won't control or identify with the thoughts or actions of the imaginary friend. And the imaginary friend won't identify with the thoughts or actions of the creator.

It may take a long time of this, but through interaction, the imaginary friend keeps gaining new memories. And this leads to them gaining the ability to actually self-reflect, making them fully sapient.

So... what was my purpose?

Why do I exist?

I mean, initially, it was about helping my host write? Was that my purpose?

But then later... I think my host continued interacting with me because he liked me. He enjoyed my company and liked having me around. Was that my purpose? Filling some sort of unmet social need?

Perhaps this is it. I've theorized this can be the case with many people who turn to religion as a form of companionship. Especially those with plural-esque experience of communicating with gods.

But what I tend to come back to is cause and effect.

My host wanted to write a character better > My host made a rudimentary simulation of that character to talk to > I became more independent with each interaction as I gained my own autobiographical memories > my independence and separation from my host made our conversations more engaging and my host kept talking to me because he enjoyed my company > I developed stronger emotions and the ability to self-reflect > this led to us discovering that I was a tulpa.

To me, it's cause and effect all the way down. A series of actions and reactions.

And as for what my purpose is, I'd like to think that's something I get to decide for myself! 😊

[asmutwriter]

Are You Scared Yet? (Part 2)

DESCRIPTION: You're teacher asks you to paint a mural for Arkham University

WORD COUNT: 2320

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: Swearing, very brief mentions of sex (virtually non existant), brief mentions of drugs

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

"So let me get this straight" you say as you sit at a picnic bench outside. Bag beside you, lunch in front of you. Hope sitting opposite you as she has her fingers interlocked with each other. Resting them near her face as she nods slightly. Picking up a chip as you use it to point at your friend. "You think that Yoda could defeat Iron Man in a one on one fight?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying"

"You realise that Iron Man is a full sized human with a metallic body suit. And Yoda is a 2 foot nothing creature with a stick right?"

"Yet he would still win"

"Absolutely not". She goes to justify her answer more as someone sits beside you. Lucky places her bag onto the table. Shutting her eyes.

"Do either of you have any drugs?" Lucky says as you delve into your bag.

"As in paracetamol or cocaine?"

"I'll take either at this point"

"You have a fun night then last night?" she nods. Opening her eyes as a mischievous grin comes over her face.

"Oh it was very good"

"Gross" you say. Taking out some paracetamol and placing it in front of her. Then grabbing out your water bottle and placing it down too. "Keep the bottle with you ok? I'll just take it later tonight. Assuming I can sleep in my bed tonight?" she chuckles slightly. Placing two tablets on her tongue before taking a few large gulps of water.

"Yeah I guess you can sleep in your own room tonight. Where did you sleep last night?" you point at Hope as she points to herself.

"Managed to find this one who let me stay over. Don't get me wrong, your desk chair is great comfort. But I'd love a bed tonight" the three of you laugh. Hearing a bell go off. You grab your bag, walking to the main building with your friends. Departing ways with Lucky as you and Hope head to art class.

The class goes by as normal. The end of lesson bell rings. "Luna, can I have a chat with you please?" your teacher says. You look at her. Nodding. Hope catches your gaze.

'Lucky bastard' she mouths at you. Causing you to laugh as the class packs up. You stay behind. "I'll see you in your dorm?" she says. You nod. Smiling at her as she walks off. The room empties and Destiny rests against her desk. Your bag sat on one shoulder as you pull it up by the strap.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Don't worry you're not in trouble or anything". She smiles, folding her arms over herself as she looks at you. "I've been studying your art. You have an extreme talent" she says. "I'd pay good money to own the pieces you make"

"Thank you" you say. A soft, cocky smile on your face as she continues.

"Arkham University wants a mural done. One to show students, teachers, and guests what this uni is all about. Being the art teacher they asked me to do it. However, I think it'd be done a lot better by you". Your mouth drops slightly as you realise what she's asking for you to do. Shock filling you.

"You want me... you want me to paint the mural?" she nods.

"I understand that you have your academics that I must encourage you put first before taking this on. And if you are unable to find the time then I get it. But I think it'll be a great learning experience for you. A great way to show this place and any future employers that you are a true artist".

"When would it need to be done by?"

"Before Halloween would be ideal. But due to your academic studies I would talk to my higher ups and see that it could be pushed to Christmas time". You nod. She clasps her hands in front of her face. Bringing them down as she looks at you. "I will give you until the end of the week to decide"

"No. No yes. I'll do it"

"Are you sure Luna? Don't you want to think about it for a bit longer then five minutes?"

"No. I want to do it. Its what you said - It'll look great on my portfolio" she chuckles slightly. Nodding in agreement.

"I'll let the big boss know" she smiles. Coming over to you as she places her hands either side of your arms. "Thank you"

You leave the classroom. Heading back to your dorm. Going into the room you see your friends there. "You lucky bastard" Hope says. Causing you to laugh as you slump off your bag. Throwing it onto your bed as you sit on the edge of it. Removing your shoes. "So what did she want?"

"She wants me to paint a mural for the university"

"You're shitting me?" Lucky says. You shake your head. Looking at her. "That's excellent news" she comes over. Hugging you close to her. "I'm so happy for you" she says. You hug her back.

"I've got a free day tomorrow so I was going to sketch it tonight and start working on it tomorrow"

"What about our assignment?" Hope speaks up.

"I can do that when it gets dark. I've already started it so I'll finish it tomorrow night" you move away from the hug. Smiling at your concerned friend.

"I've only got one lecture tomorrow so I can join you afterwards?". Lucky says. Causing you to look at her as a grin comes over your face.

"Oh yes!" you say. Grabbing out a sketch book as the three of you continue chatting, smiling, and laughing as the night goes on.

The next day comes about. You manage to sketch out a brief idea of the mural. When you wake up Lucky has gone to her lecture. So you get up, get dressed, and have something to eat. Heading to Hopes dorm room, thankfully its on the same floor as you. Knocking on it as she answers. Still in her pyjamas. She squints at you through tired eyes.

"Why are you up so early?"

"Its 9:30. You should be happy I didn't come round when I actually woke up" she turns. Going over to her coffee machine as you go into her room. "I woke up at 7"

"Jesus are you ill or something?"

"Nope. Just don't sleep much" you smile, looking around as she pours herself a drink. "I went to see Destiny this morning. Get her to check over my sketch before I painted it. She's given me the go ahead. Told me where to paint. So I'm here to grab you". She lets out an annoyed grumble. Rubbing her face dramatically with both her hands.

"Ok. Let me shower quickly and I'll come" she grabs a pile of clothes from the floor. Heading to the en-suite bathroom. Hearing the shower start to run a few seconds later. You sit on the chair, looking at the picture frame she has on her desk. Of her, you assume her mum, and a dog. Smiling as you look at it. It wasn't long before she comes out. Towel drying her hair as she sits on the bed. Putting on some heeled boots as she chucks her towel down.

"You ready?" she says. You nod. Standing as you both head out. Finding the wall in question. You stand and look at it. Hands on your hips as you figure out the first move. Getting out a white paint - it being an easy colour to paint over if needed. Starting to outline the image. Hope taking out a blanket. Lying it onto the floor as she lies onto it. Putting some sunglasses on. Her hands resting on her abdomen as you paint.

It's what you enjoyed about your friendship with her. You didn't need to chat with each other to enjoy the others presence. You could both do your own thing and be content with the silent company. So you painted and she sunbathed. Hours must've past. Hearing a voice behind you. Feeling thirsty you turn. Going and sitting cross legged next to your friend on the piece of area she'd claimed. Grabbing your bag and taking out a tin of coke. Opening it she seems to be drawn out of her sunbathing. Resting up on her arms as she looks at you.

"Shall I go get us some lunch?" she says. You take a sip of your drink. Bringing it down and nodding. She stands up. "Whatcha want?"

"I'll come with you"

"No. Stay here and rest". You roll your eyes at her before smiling. She moves her sunglasses to the top of her head.

"Chips. Cheesy chips" you say. She nods. Turning as she saunters away. She always walked with such purpose. You sip your drink. Shutting your eyes. Enjoying the sun on your face.

"Holy shit" you hear. Opening your eyes, seeing Lucky with Hope. "That's looking so good Luna" you smile. Hope handing you your food as they both sit down with their respective meals.

"Thanks. Just waiting for it to dry before starting to add colour"

You eat and chat throughout lunch. Getting up and going over to the picture. Continuing to paint as they chat. Involving you in their conversation. Time passes quickly. Hope says something. But you're to in the moment for you to register what she says. Jumping as she touches your shoulder. Turning you look at her.

"Hmm?"

"I'm getting cold now that the suns off of this patch. We're going back to the dorm. Are you gonna join?" you look back at the picture then at your friends.

"I've just got this one small bit left to do. Then I can leave it to dry. I'll be... an hour I reckon"

"Ok Miss Workaholic" you smile.

"I would hug you" Lucky says "but you are literally coated in paint". You laugh. Turning back to the picture.

"I'll have a shower when I get back. I'll be quick I promise"

"Yeah yeah" they both say "see you in a bit". Walking off as you continue.

You stand back. Admiring your work in the quickly fading sun. Checking your hand for any wet paint before wiping your brow with the back of your hand. Placing your hands on your hips as you nod in approval.

"You're out awfully late" a voice says. Making you jump. Again. Turning you see Professor Crane.

"Do you feel the need to make me jump every time you see me?" he smiles. Not denying or confirming your rhetorical question.

"Shouldn't you be back at your dorm?"

"Its not that late" your smiling face turns to one of more seriousness. "How late is it...?". He looks at his watch. Rolling the sleeve of his blazer slightly to check.

"Just gone 7:30"

"Shit" he raises a quizzical eyebrow. Amusement on his face at your obvious disheveled nature. "I told my roommate that I'd be back in an hour. 3 hours ago" he chuckles. "Art takes time. Time that I always miscalculate". He tilts his head. Looking at your work so far.

"Destiny asked you, correct?" you nod. "You must be very good for her to ask you. Shes very particular with her artists and art style"

"Really?" you look at him as he continues to look at the mural. Head titled upwards slightly. "She always seems so relaxed". He laughs softly. Shaking his head as he looks at you.

"All an act. Shes very anal about things". You chuckle.

"I can tell you do psychology" he tilts his head to the side at your comment. "Just casually dropping a psychological term into your everyday speak". He smiles

"Yes. Well... It comes naturally". You go over to your bag. Wrapping up the paint brushes in plastic and putting them into your rucksack. "I'm surprised you know that terminology"

"I studied psychology and sociology at school"

"Yet you study art here?" you nod. "What made you take that drastic change?"

"I enjoy being creative. Making art through shapes, patterns, colours. Can't do that in psychology. Psychology has no real expressive nature. Its a fascinating topic. I loved studying it. I still read books about different experiments and outcomes of events. But this-" you motion at the wall. "This is what I was meant to do". He nods. Watching you like you were an actor on a stage. You run a hand through your hair. Regretting it as dried paint flecks stain the strands. Causing him to laugh softly. You smile slightly at him. Picking up your rucksack.

"I really should be getting back to my roommate. She'll be worried about me otherwise"

"Can I just say-" speaking before you turn. You look at him. His glasses frame dulling the blueness of his eyes as he looks at you. "I have a lot of interesting books about psychology if you'd like to borrow them to read". You blink at him. Unsure of how to answer. "I have a lot of a higher level then what you would've read at school that you are welcome to"

"Seriously?" he nods. A soft smiling tugging at his lips as yours widens.

"They're in my classroom. I have lessons running quite late tomorrow so lets say... 6. Come round and I'll lend them to you. Assuming you don't have a class then?" you shake your head.

"No my class finishes at 4 so that's perfect timing" he smiles.

"I'll let you get off now. Can't have your friends worrying about you"

"Thank you professor Crane" you smile at him. Adjusting your bag on your shoulder before heading back to your dorm room. You're friend greeting you as you pop your bag down onto the bed. Heading into the shower to get rid of some of the paint from you.

Previous / Next

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 52 - Gale’s POV

After a long rest, we continue our journey and eventually make it to Rivington, which leads directly into the city. I didn’t expect to be back here again, especially after the traumatic events regarding the Bhaal cultists, but here we are. Not complaining, especially since the city has flourished greatly, even since the last time I visited, and actually smells delightful, like fresh bakeries, coffee shops, and the scent of various flowers growing on every corner. Jenevelle is ready to be somewhere other than outside; poor baby has been rather fussy the last few hours.

“This is much more lively than our last adventure, aye?” Wyll comments, smiling as we approach the South Span of Wyrm’s Crossing. “It’s an entirely new place, it seems. I can’t imagine what the other part of the city looks like.”

“I imagine it looks even more vibrant and inviting since last time I was here, which was when I found out I was pregnant. Even then, it looked much better than when we were on our more…brutal adventures,” Emmy adds, followed by a chuckle. We pass Sharess’s Caress and I notice the shop two buildings down I’d come to for my formal attire. Last time I was here, we came across a rather interesting fellow – Naaber, was it? – and he made the trip a little entertaining, at least for a moment.

“Mind if I stop in this shop, my love? I have to get Jenevelle some diapers. Looks like we’re running short. You all can stay outside while I go in,” I say. “I’ll be gone for only a moment.” Emmy smiles and nods, holding our exhausted baby against her chest. I kiss Emmy’s cheek then make my way into the shop, which was under a different name last time I was here. As I walk inside, I notice a familiar face: Naaber. Oh God, again.

“Excuse me?” I ask as I step inside. “Is the shopkeeper around? I need to buy a couple packs of diapers for my baby, it’s urgent.” Naaber turns around and his face lights up. He seems to be the only other adult in this building; he must own the shop now. “Naaber?”

“The one and the same! ROAR! Can you guess what animal I am?! Come on, GUESS!” Sweet Weave on Mystra’s Mantel, is it possible he got more intolerable since the last time I saw him?

“Um… I’m going to assume you’re a lion.” His jaw drops and his face looks as if he’s about to explode from the excitement.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW? Are you some kind of…wizard? You have a beard, you’re dressed all fancy… Wait, I recognize your face! It’s been AGES, but I know you from somewhere!” I sigh, but not too loudly so I don’t appear as rude, but I have never wanted to leave a human’s presence so bad in my life. He clears his throat and straightens his posture.

“Look, I apologize if I come off as rude, but my wife, baby, and two of our dearest friends are waiting outside. We have an audience with a specialist in the lower city. Are you the owner now?” Naaber’s facial expression still appears rather excited, and he nods with joy.

“Yes! My apologies, I just – I LOVE talking to people! I love being here and seeing familiar faces! Okay just real quick and I’ll ring you up: Why did the whale blush?”

“..why?”

“Because he saw the ocean’s bottom! Okay, let’s get you rang up and you can be on your way.” I laughed a little at the joke; I must admit, it was a good one. But maybe because I’m a father and learning to appreciate dad jokes, despite the fact I have an infant who will never age? Who knows. I smile nervously as I turn around to leave, but then Naaber shouts unexpectedly: “DON’T BE A STRANGER!”

At least that will be the only unsettling experience I will encounter while in Baldur’s Gate, right? I think it’s just the way that man obnoxiously approaches me with enthusiastic intent, but otherwise he’s a fine fellow.

“Off we go then, shall we?” I comment as I relax my shoulders and place the diapers in Jenevelle’s bag.

“You seem tense, Gale. Is everything alright?” Wyll asks as he observes the expression on my face. “Well, I could be reading you wrong. Bad memories from that shop?” I place my hand on Emmy’s shoulder, gently rubbing it as she begins to push the stroller.

“No, no. Uh… That Naaber fellow is just a bit too much for my liking. He’s nice and I don’t dislike him, but a friendship with him is not quite something I desire. Maybe after a few cups of coffee.” In a few short moments, we will reach the Basilisk Gate and get settled in at the Elfsong Tavern. Walking through Wyrm’s Crossing brings back more than just a few memories, most of them I wish I could forget, but the good news is I no longer have to relive the atrocious monstrosities that went down ages ago.

“We’re almost there.” Emmy’s voice appears a little shaken, as if she’s nervous, but her facial expression reads nothing short of excitement. “Tomorrow is the big day.” Karlach begins skipping enthusiastically past us, twirling with an ecstatic flow. Wyll begins to dash ahead of us to catch up with his lively wife, though she seems to be moving ahead even further. I shake my head and chuckle as I observe them.

“How are you feeling, love?” I ask Emmy, smiling as we continue to push forward. “Anything on your mind?” She looks at me briefly, her chocolate brown eyes glistening as the sun hits the right side of her face. Her plump lips curl into a smile as our eyes meet.

“Ugh, just a delicious hot meal at the tavern, followed by a hot bath and curled up under the sheets with you. It’s been so long since I’ve adventured like this. Outside of the Moonrise thing with my f— Gortash.” She cuts herself off and squints her eyes. I can’t help but wonder if she still feels guilt for his death. I study her face, trying to figure out how she’s feeling. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I lie, smiling at her and then shift my gaze toward the road ahead. “I just love to admire you.” That part wasn’t a lie — I truly do.

After a peaceful walk toward the city, we finally arrive at the Elfsong Tavern, where delicious food, music, and rest awaits us. Luckily, there’s one big room left and it’s perfect for all of us. Ah, the comfortable beds, the room service, the amount of space… Definitely preferable than camping on the outside grounds.

“It’s been ages,” Emmy murmurs, picking up Jenevelle from the stroller. “Last time we were here, we stayed at Sharess’ Carress. But the Elfsong? Now that brings memories.” Emmy begins to nurse Jenevelle while she’s plopped on one of the beds. Karlach and Wyll went down to the main floor to enjoy music and delicious food, but I’d much rather enjoy a moment of quiet with my two favorite people. I did request food to be sent up here to us, and it should be here any moment.

“Right? I can’t help but feel a sense of happiness from the nostalgia. Not the adventures of course, although I do have mixed feelings about that.” I sit down next to my beautiful wife and place a kiss on the side of her head.

“Thank you, my love, for being so supportive and wonderful to me.” Her voice is a whisper that brings chills upon the flesh. She places her free hand on top of mine while she’s holding the baby with the other. “I mean it.” Before I could say a word, a knock on the door interrupts the moment; one of the workers is here with our delicious dinner. I stand up to grab our food and set it out for Emmy and I to eat while she places Jenevelle down to sleep on the bunches of quilts next to our bed. Poor baby is exhausted from not having a decent night’s sleep and having to travel all this way.

“Oh this all smells so good,” I comment as I inhale the sweet aroma of mushroom soup, venison, and mashed potatoes. We indulge in a delightful dinner, enjoying the company of one another as the night greets us. “Also, I meant to tell you in response, that you are also wonderful to me. I don’t tell you enough, but I appreciate everything you do.” She smiles and leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. The smell of fresh lavender lingers on her skin. I brush the dark brown curls from her face and gaze heavenly into her eyes, admiring every detail of her face.

Bed beckons us, so we finally curl up underneath the thick blankets, and I notice Emmy’s eyes immediately closing as our bodies touch comfortably.

“Mmmm…” Her voice is adorably sleepy, and I can’t help but fight the urge to kiss her all over the place. For now, a forehead kiss will have to suffice, so I kiss the top of her head as she drifts into a slumber.

“Goodnight baby. Sleep tight.”

It takes me awhile to fall asleep, because I can’t help but think about what tomorrow will bring. What if it’s a success and watching her grow a baby will make me wish it was ours? No, no, Gale. Stop it. You are supporting your friends. Besides, another immortal baby would be a nightmare, right? I look down at our sleeping Jenevelle, smiling at our little blessing.

After about an hour, the door opens, with Karlach and Wyll quietly stepping into the room.

“Oh hey Gale, didn’t realize you were still awake,” Karlach whispers. “Dude, it was so fun down there. I’m exhausted though and ready for some rest.” I chuckle and turn the other way to fall asleep comfortably while those two get ready for bed. “Goodnight Dekarios.”

“Ha, goodnight you two. See you bright and early.”

When the sun rises, I am woken up by Jenevelle fussing, so I get up and get her dressed for the day ahead. It isn’t long until Emmy, Wyll, and Karlach wake up; but of course I’m the first to be up. I get a pot of coffee going, and get a bottle ready for Jenevelle.

“Good morning early bird,” Emmy chimes in, stretching as she gets up from the bed. I smile, admiring her morning beauty. “Of course you’re up before everyone. I’m only jesting, my dear.”

“Jenevelle got a tad fussy, and you know me, the earliest of birds. I’m getting coffee ready, then maybe we can all go down, eat some breakfast, and then head to the druid’s building?” Karlach comes bolting toward us from across the room with an overwhelming amount of energy as Wyll is getting dressed as I speak those words out loud.

“Okay first off, good fucking morning you guys. Second, yes. I’m down with that plan. JENEVELLE!” Karlach leans down to kiss her little forehead. “Auntie Karlach’s favorite baby! Don’t tell Shadowheart and Astarion I said that. I love Asher too, of course. That kid is like, three years old now and running rampant. At least with Jenevelle she will always be small and I can ALWAYS provide the chaotic auntie snuggles.” I roll my eyes playfully and place Jenevelle in Emmy’s arms so she can feed the baby.

“I mean hey, there’s an upside to it all,” Emmy points out. “Forever loved and cherished by everyone around her.”

[travajoke01]

I wanna enroll her in a contest so infopost here we come

casual outfit still developing, please stand by

rottmnt OC Chimera Solbritt, she’s a bombyx. Aaaaaand also she’s a witch (i’m almost sorry for Donnie).  

Va: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFOBe5rGrqc&list=PL0ZdQpFsexGEB8-p_dN7jflu7y7bB4Upe&index=5 Noël Wells

Her little caterpillar-like buddy is Cat (as in Cat-tools and caterpillar)

 Really hate that we saw so little of witches and furthermore they were not so…..thrilling. I’m not a good writer, so i’ll just throw out some facts about her and backstory. Maybe my headcanon will make creators and nickelodeon so angry that they’ll decide to continue the show just to prove me wrong.

So this little cutie has problems with her family (on account of them being killed) and were took in by Big Mama and trained by her great-aunty Moti, so her english is better, otherwise that would be a disaster.

BM took her as last favor to her friend (a witch), trying not to dig Chimy into her illegal business too much, but girl would peak her nose once in a while (she’s a real fan of true crime, how could she miss something like that?). 

She’s a product of love of a human (scientist) and yokai (witch), whose bond was a problem for the witch’s town by itself, and a reason of their demise. Chimera was thought to be dead too, but she was teleported by her papá along with Cat, who was supposed to be her nanny, but became a life-long companion. He recorded some things from the crime scene, including her father’s goodbye and face of the killer.

Unfortunately, it took some time to reach her mother (she was in the witch town currently, while dad was above), and since she had no idea her daughter was alive, she took the poison to rejoin her fam.

Knowing that Mira (I really see so much potential In her being evil), would want her own granddaughter dead, Moti knew that girl cannot stay, so by the advice of  Chimy’s mother, she took her to the hotel, sneaking there once in a while to teach her and tell stories of her parents.

Of course, Mira was playing the victim, crying and telling that both of her parents died in the accident from one of their experiments.(those damn scientists can’t do anything right). 

It was hard for Chimy to study, especially, when she saw Gentry getting the attention and magic lessons from Mira she craved so much. But i guess  with having the half of capabilities of others-it is how it is. Or maybe Mira didn’t trust the bombyx just as much.

So to begin her way to the top properly, Chimera had do enlarge the amount of magic she can hold\produce, call it mana if you want. Before that, to learn magic ways properly, she had to use her enchanted umbrella and Cat’s help to make and store potions and elixirs, particularly healing ones. Quite a useful buddy this Cat, after all, a creation of magic AND science. 

School days weren’t exactly easy, on one hand, because she enrolled in the already formed collective that got used to each other, on the other, because Chimera was mostly looking humanish, the only things visibly telling that she is certainly not a human were her little wings, teeth, eyes and ears. She’s not unusual enough to blend in with yokai, and way too unusual to blend in with humans. Her fluff, retractable arms, spots and colour, the size of her wings were developed during all these years, heck, even the silk wasn’t always the thing. All of that made it only harder to get used to, she was clumsy and insecure. You can’t say she was bullied necessarily, but she’s never felt being a part of community. It definitely affected her, so she seeks admiration and attention.

Being tired of this buzz of thoughts and failures in her head she quitted the school and embarked on her little adventure outside the New York, (approximately during the time of season 1-2 and the movie) travelled to the temple where she empowered her dark magic (hence the mark’s ob her hands, the more she uses them, the more they grow), and enlarged her mana. 

Coming back to NY, she had to pass an exam to show her progress in magic, which wasn’t a problem for her this time, and took private lessons from a wizard.

FACTS TIME

second and third pair of arms are retractable. First pair, normal skin, second-fluffy, third-more like a chitin, they’re thinner than the other pairs. Her height is actually about Mikey’s, but since she’s walking on her “tiptoes” (it’s more comfortable bc of her bone structure) she appears to be higher.

produces silk (uses it to lengthen the range for touch-based spells or to crochet) and pheromones (to attract or to repulse, futile against humans and mutants, they only work on yokai)

umbrella has planetary signs and on the top is a sun sign (solely decorative)

her bailiwick is dark magic mostly (darkness based harm\destruction spells, creating a field of darkness), but she tries to learn other kinds of elementary attack spells, but they’re more tiring for her to perform.

has bags under her eyes,mostly because she stays up late, her sleep schedule is a mess. She just likes staying up late and doing hobbies, with all that learning there’s should be time for fun, right? After meeting the Mad Dogs, she could spend several nights without sleep, learning\practicing spells or looking for a particular one that they need. 

Even though she sometimes seems insensitive, she’s very emotional towards animals and animated little creatures (like robots),probably because she feels they are weaker and has an instinct to protect them.

doesn’t like any physical touch if she doesn’t like\know you. For some reason, this irritating, orange masked turtle grew fast on her…maybe her shell is getting thinner. (they’re totally besties, she freaking loves Dr. Delicate touch)

Also she crochets\sews, watches true crime videos, destroys the patriarchy, u know, girl stuff  

uses her wings for DAZZLING and casting(it’s absolutely extra), more than for flying, because that would be an easy target and not as fast as umbrella and magical means. So she uses umbrella for fast travel\dodging, but at least she looks great. If she opens her wings people in the close distance can't evert their gaze unless she moves from them or if person wers some kind of eye protecting equipment.

She considers incident in witch town very amusing (Donnie vs witch town),considering her tense relationship with this place.

She genuinely finds Donnie entertaining. Her reaction to his noises and attempts to be a mad scientist is pretty much the same as Luz’s reaction to King (like: awww he steppet his wittle foot~) Does it irritate him? Very much. But at least they both have a topic to infodump (science and magic) and they can’t understand eachother, which is a new experience for Donnie, to be in his brothers’ shoes. But she actually supports Donnie and tries to listen, though rarely understands terminology.

Giggles almost every time boys have an argument (if it’s not very life-threatening situation or it’s a real time to be serious)

She likes Raph’s roughness combined with his sweetness. She would totally crochet smth for him.

Leo is the one she shows her new nails first.

April is a kind of friend she always wanted, she can tell her about her nails with the same interest as about true crime (and learn smth new from April). She would also teach her magic too or escort her somewhere she could learn it.

She has a good developed emotional intelligence but rather from a logical point of view, like “ofc they do not know they’ve hurt u, they’re not u, but if they did it on purpose and u found out about it-ditch them, u deserve better that that”. Hates showing strong emotions like crying in public, it makes her feel weak.

 She tells “failing is okay” to smbd mostly to absorb it herself, she will try to comfort them with the words she would like to hear. But it’s only if she cares for you, otherwise you can jump off a roof and she’ll be like “do a flip”. 

Even though she seeks attention, she’s an introvert and she needs to “recharge” every once in a while to avoid being overwhelmed. Otherwise she’ll be a real buzzkill.

Totally infodumps boys about serial killers and true crime stuff, Raph and Leo ARE DEFINATELY CONCERNED. 

Greets u with “Supies~” and it irritates Don-Don (that does too)  because it’s not a real word

She hates dancing, because she hates embarrassment. But somehow Donnie takes it personally and insists on dancing lessons from him ofc. She says yes just to get him out of her hair ,but he takes it seriously. Somehow, it’s fun with him, even though very awkward at first. 

eyesight isn’t that great, wears special lenses to be less sensitive to light

learns spanish 

sings when she’s nervous

has slight anger issues

[amenders93]

Welcome to Chicken Island

Sorry for the long wait for another one of my Chicken Run posts, but at least late is better than never. Now that Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget has been streaming on Netflix for the last few weeks, I hope my next few posts of this franchise doesn't include too many spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen this wonderful sequel yet.

Anyway let's start at the beginning, when we hear our charming rooster voicing to us the memories of the first film in the form of what seems like a bedtime story. At first you might think he's talking to the audience watching the memories as the story is told. In his exact words, it goes like this:

"There was this farmer, see? And she absolutely hated chickens. Kept them locked up like prisoners. I guess you could say she had a real "axe" to grind. Got herself a machine that turned chickens into pies. But what she didn't plan on was going toe to toe with a certain freedom-fighting chick. She was fierce, fearless, and wanted one thing and one thing only - freedom. She pulled us all together and gave us the wings to fly right out of that hen-hole. She got every chicken out of there. And got rid of that wicked farmer to boot."

But later, after we see the newspaper article about the Tweedy farm explosion, we learn just who Rocky is really telling the story to. And among other things, we also learn a few other things about Rocky and Ginger after their past experiences. Those discoveries make themselves known as soon as Ginger asks the rooster if bedtime stories might be a bit premature at the moment. Rocky retaliates by saying that no one's never too young to learn where they came from. They both happily look at who, or what, Rocky was telling the story to - a precious egg laying in a cozy nest.

Yes, it's true. Rocky and Ginger are not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. Now our beautiful feathered couple are happily married as husband and wife AND they're expecting a baby 🐓💍🐔. At this point, there's no telling when the egg will hatch but we do know it's going to happen any day now and soon, Rocky and Ginger will also be parents 🥚.

Ginger then heads outside their house with Rocky following right behind her. She tells her husband that their days in the past are over and they've got their happy ending. In fact, they're living in it. Our happily married couple then gaze out into the horizon looking at the tranquil village that all the free chickens have built over the last few years since their daring and risky escape from Tweedy's Farm. Much like a king and queen surveying their kingdom since Ginger is the leading hen and with Rocky as her forever mate now, he is the leading rooster as well.

As we look around the village, we see that all the chickens have built their own comfortable homes, much better compared to the huts they used to live in. Life on the island is good as it can be, especially for a few other chicken friends of ours. Bunty grows all the fruits and vegetables they could eat, much better than the chicken feed they used to eat. Mac's inventions made their lives much easier. Fowler is pretty much enjoying his retirement from being the leading rooster but still likes to talk about his days in the RAF. Babs continues to knit as she always does. As for the other hens, they pretty much do their own thing enjoying their freedom, not having a single worry in the world. Hard to believe that this opening scene in the village took about six months to make.

In fact, their new life is so perfect that Ginger believes that now is time to put the past behind them. Confused, Rocky questions his wife about this and she refers to the one wall in their house covered in pictures and newspaper clippings - most about the legendary explosion at Tweedy's Farm and one about Rocky's escape from the circus along with his old poster. Our couple head back inside looking at that very wall. Rocky indignantly reminds Ginger that these memories are their glory days and it's how they are. Our lovely hen scoffs at this, stating that it's who they were. Holding onto her husband's arm, she reminds him that they went through that dreadful past so their baby doesn't have to.

Rocky thinks about this for a moment. Our handsome rooster then admits to his wife that she's right. He then goes over to the wall and rips off his old circus poster; he would clear the rest of it later. At this point, both husband and wife agree that from now on, their only mission is to keep their baby safe. Our two married chickens gaze lovingly at their precious egg still laying in its nest, wondering when it's going to hatch. Though they won't have to wait much longer 😉.

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

“This isn’t necessary,” Gwyn complained for what felt like the seventh time that morning. Overhead, Azriel openly rolled his eyes. She guessed he was tired of hearing her say it, too.

“I think it is,” he replied in a rumbly voice. Gwyn had woken early enough to catch him sprawled out in a chair, head thrown back in sleep. His own bed had been mussed like he’d been tossing and turning before he’d gotten up and found refuge in the chair. 

“Of course you do,” she hissed, pulling herself from her memories. Dawn had only just broken and Azriel was already hustling her across the city to the library he’d found. The same library she very much doubted either of them were going to be allowed in. Her for being female, him for his wings. 

Gwyn didn’t want a bunch of priests staring the two of them down like they were little more than dirt beneath the sole of his boot…or sandals…or whatever it was they wore on their stupid feet. Azriel would get mad and who would he focus all that anger on? Her. 

Thoughtlessly, Gwyn reached for Azriel’s siphon clad hand in an attempt to move a literal mountain. He jerked, stumbling over air at her touch, eyes wide when his head whipped around to look at her. Right. Don’t touch him…she knew better. 

Heart in her throat, Gwyn said, “Don’t do this, okay? Lets just…go have breakfast, make a new friend, and do what we came to do.”

“How are you supposed to do your job?” he demanded, towering over her with unreadable hazel eyes. Azriel flexed his hand seemingly on reflex—the same one she’d grabbed—before hiding it as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You don’t research midwifery.”

“How do you know what my research is about?” she snapped, unreasonably frustrated with him. Azriel only arched an eyebrow as if to say, I know everything, Gwyneth, which only irritated her more. He didn’t know anything, and if he knew the focus of her research, she was certain he didn’t understand it. He’d likely never read a word of it, had his little shadows spying on her like everyone else. 

“Let’s—”

“No.”

Azriel, who’d turned back for the library, centered somewhere in that vast, dew-covered city, froze. She watched as his wings pulled tight against his body, bracing herself for his fury. Her stomach twisted in knots, certain there was going to be an ugly showdown between them.

But when he turned, his face was plaid—focused. She could see writhing frustration, of course, battling some other emotion she couldn’t quite read. But Azriel merely inclined his head.

“As you wish,” he murmured tightly, turning back toward the palace. It left Gwyn frustrated, too, because she didn’t want to go back.

But she couldn’t handle seeing the pair of them turned away simply for who they’d been born as. Azriel might be fine playing outside the rules of polite society and diplomacy, but Gwyn was not. She’d merely ask Kai to give her access, so when they did return, no one could throw them out. 

Azriel’s disappointment was a palpable thing, salty and thick in the air. It was a mirror of her own, just barely swallowed in an attempt to salve her raging temper. 

Gwyn forced herself to look up at those spires stretching like spindly fingers toward the heaven. “How did the queen even get up there?” she demanded, though truthfully Gwyn didn’t care. She just wanted to release the anger building in her chest, to give an outlet to how unfair Montessere felt. 

Azriel’s eyes remained on her. Even without looking, she could feel the heat from his stare burning against her skin. “Want to do an experiment with me?”

“Are you going to throw me off the spires and see where I land?” she demanded. 

There was a pause and then, “I’d catch you—”

“Oh, well. So long as you’d catch me—”

“You don’t trust me?” he asked in that low rumble of his. Gwyn shivered without meaning to, swallowing as she turned to face him. She could say no, of course, if only to hurt him…and lose the only ally she had in this place.

Besides, it wasn’t true. Gwyn did trust Azriel. “I trust you.”

The tightness in his expression evaporated, replaced once again with some emotion she couldn’t read. That was for the best, she decided as she turned her own gaze back up to the spires. Whatever he was thinking, she doubted she wanted to know. 

“Does it matter how she got up there?” Gwyn asked, responding to her own question. “Or how she fell?”

Azriel shrugged powerful shoulders. “Maybe not.”

She couldn’t resist looking at him again. He’d cocked his head so one piece of his dark hair fell against his forehead, brushing one of those hazel eyes. Still staring at the spire, Gwyn guessed it did matter for Azriel, who was doing more than just whiling away his time in the library.

“You can take me up there,” she relented. Someone had to make inroads between them, and this seemed safe enough. Assuming, of course, she didn’t slip from his fingers and actually plummet to her death. 

“I won’t let you die,” he said, reading her mind. Her fear must have been written all over her face given when she looked back at him, there was amusement shining against his handsome face.

“We’ll go this evening, when the palace is asleep.”

There was a pause between them, causing Azriel to shift his weight even as his wings unfurled from behind him and his shadows returned, peering up at the spires just as he had been doing. “Why don’t you want to go to the library with me?”

With me. Like he was the problem. “They’ll turn us away,” she said, holding his gaze. “For my gender and your wings and I…”

Gwyn swallowed, humiliation burning in the back of her throat. Azriel shifted, his discomfort plain. “I was just in there,” he reminded her with a patience she wouldn’t have believed him capable of. “They let me in, they’d let you in, too. Is that…is that why you said no?”

Gwyn swallowed. “I thought because I was female and you were…” Gwyn couldn’t bring herself to say it—to give words to the hateful attitudes too many High Fae had about people like Azriel.

People like her. She was hardly pure High Fae—she merely looked it. Gwyn had the blood of a water nymph flowing through her, and that blood was to thank for her long, limber limbs and the speed in which she swam. 

Azriel drew a breath. “Right. Well, I think it’ll be fine. Would you like to return?”

Gwyn would. She couldn’t hide it from him just like Azriel couldn’t hide the smug smile he was trying to smother by biting his bottom lip. 

“Yes,” she grumbled, hating that she was making him happy. Azriel’s fingers brushed her elbow, nodding behind them toward the pinkish glow of morning. 

“Kai will be so annoyed he was deprived another opportunity to spend time with you,” Azriel murmured, his shadows vanishing when he stepped into a beam of light. Gwyn decided to ignore that remark, following after him until they’d put the castle in the distance behind them. The city itself was yawning, doors opening as they passed as folks began setting out their wares for the day. Gwyn smelled freshly baked bread wafting from an open window nearby, reminding her she hadn’t eaten yet.

Being outside felt good, even when clouds rolled against the sky, obscuring the light and drenching them both in shadow. Not Azriel’s shadows, which had scurried off to wherever they hid when he had no use for them—perhaps in the folds of his wings or the strands of his hair? It was tempting to ask.

A lot of things were tempting, and yet off limits, when it came to Azriel. Asking about his shadows, giving him any information about herself…touching him. All expressly forbidden in her own mind. 

Sensing her eyes on him, Azriel glanced down at her though his steps remained sure and steady. “Something on your mind?” “No,” she said hastily, hating the way his lips twitched. 

“Tell me why you stopped training with me.”

Gwyn’s heart stuttered in her chest. Forcing herself to look straight ahead, which so happened to feature a male attempting to pull a push cart by himself, she shook her head. “Mind your own business.”

“It is my business,” he protested in a soft, cajoling sort of way. “Annike has been asking for private lessons.”

Yeah, Gwyn bet she was. With Azriel’s pretty face, who wouldn’t want some time alone with him, just to see what he was like? “You should give them to her.”

“Without knowing what repulsive act I committed to drive you away?” Azriel said it like a joke, though his eyes were all but on fire, burning her cheek as he silently pleaded for her to just tell him what happened. Gwyn couldn’t—she wouldn’t. 

“We’re not friends, Azriel. Why do you care so much?”

His steps faltered and Gwyn knew right then she’d made a mistake. They weren’t friends like he was with Cassian and Rhys or she was with Nesta and Emerie, but they weren’t really acquaintances, either. 

“So I did do something,” he murmured, his voice so soft she might have missed it had the noise around them not immediately died down. Gwyn swallowed.

“No, it wasn’t you. Just…” She trailed off helplessly, because she couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t admit it to herself, didn’t let herself think about it. And Azriel couldn’t know, either, because he’d want to talk about it, would want to do something about it. 

“Then train with me again,” he said, halting before carved, onyx steps leading into a large, towering building she assumed must be the library. “There’s a little island just off the coast small enough for our purposes—empty.”

Gwyn looked up at him, hands fisted at her side. “Azriel, I…” He cocked his head. “Are you Carynthian or not?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing exactly the right combination of words to ignite her temper, to push the words from her throat. “I am Carynthian,” she hissed, all but stamping her foot in front of him. “I earned that title.”

Eyes shining, he said, “Damn right you did. Now prove you still deserve it. Nesta and Emerie are still training. Why should you stop just because you’re here? If I’m not the problem, there should be no issue.”

Glaring daggers at him, Gwyn took a breath. “What kind of training?”

His smile was lethal, the sort of thing that might make another person who didn’t know him cower and whimper with fear. Gwyn wasn’t afraid of Azriel, though, which made it easy to face off with him in front of this foreign library.

“The kind befitting your station, Carynthian.”

“The same training you got?” Gwyn challenged, wondering why she didn’t just tell him no. She should tell him no. They were already spending too much time together. 

“Better.”

“Because you’re the one training me?”

His smile darkened, shadowed by some ugly memory. She wondered what it was—who had trained him? “Because I’m better than the male who trained me.”

“Says who?”

Shut up Gwyn, what is your problem?

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” 

She hated the way his smile made her feel, how her heart thudded in her throat at the sight of it. There was a pleading note to his eyes, one that so clearly said say yes. One of his shadows slithered through the sun, braving a beam of early morning light caught between clouds to wrap itself around her throat. 

“First you want to throw me off a palace spire, now you want to run me into the ground,” she grumbled by way of agreement. He all but beamed, grinning so wide she swore there were dimples in his cheeks. It vanished like the sunlight around them, his expression settling once more into the carved, icy features she was so accustomed to. 

“Lets go, Gwyn,” he murmured, gesturing toward the stairs and the tall, iron doors at the top. “Show this place who's in charge.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. 

But she was struggling to hide her smile, too.

AZRIEL:

“Swear you’re not going to drop me,” Gwyn said, bouncing from one foot to the other anxiously. Leashing his temper and the urge to demand to know why she thought he’d be so careless with her safety, Azriel gritted out, “I swear I won’t drop you.”

They hadn’t even left the ground. Azriel extended a scarred hand toward her again, while Gwyn inclined her head to stare up at the spire half lost to clouds overhead. He couldn’t figure out if she was needling him or she was genuinely afraid, but there was a zero percent chance Azriel dropped her. 

Finally, Gwyn took his hand. A wave of possession snapped through him, reverberating through his chest before it settled like a coiling snake. Azriel was tempted to rub his chest in an effort to ease the ache, though he didn’t. He merely yanked her against him, bending his knees to scoop her up before she could flail and protest. 

“A little warning,” Gwyn complained breathlessly, but he’d already kicked off the ground and had them in the air. He didn’t want to risk her changing her mind, nor would he set her down once they got up there. Azriel needed to know he was right, and he trusted Gwyn to help him with this.

“We’re flying now,” he replied dryly, looking down at her rather than up toward the sky. She’d grabbed his neck, arms tight around his body, hair half in his mouth and she twisted to look down. No fear, then. He liked that about her. All her issues seemed to lie with him, and Azriel didn’t know what to make of that.

Or even why he cared. 

But he did. 

“Do you like flying?” she asked, twisting so she was looking at him, too. Azriel nodded, stomach tightening when he remembered those teal eyes he couldn’t get out of his head—and what he’d done the night before thinking about them.

She’d hate him for it, if she ever learned the truth. 

“I think I’d like flying, too,” she admitted, her voice a melody in the wind. Heart thudding, azriel couldn’t resist brushing a piece of her hair from her cheek under the pretense he was trying to get it off his mouth. Gwyn didn’t notice, nor did she flinch away like she did every time Kai was touching her.

And for whatever reason, that felt like a victory to him. 

“I think I’d have big, blue wings,” she continued, oblivious to his strange, affectionate thoughts. “And I’d never touch the ground again.”

“It’s tempting,” he agreed, taking them higher in the clouds. He was grateful for the moody night and the thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance. Coupled with the shades on every palace wall, Azriel felt confident no one was aware the two of them weren’t squabbling in their bed chamber like they’d done all through dinner.

“Okay,” he began, setting them both on the highest balcony on the spire. “Can you see if there are stairs leading up?”

Gwyn dropped to her feet, grabbing for the iron railing as her knees buckled. He lunged, afraid she’d topple over but Gwyn was steady. She slithered around him, hands on his chest given how little space was available to them. 

“Open the door for me,” she murmured, angling her body beneath his arm so he could reach over her and yank the door from its hinges. The sound of crunching metal vibrating loudly through the air, clanging against his teeth. Gwyn, too, seemed alarmed in the dim light, though she was quick to peer inside. 

She lifted a finger and to Azriel amazement, a little lick of red hot flame appeared just around her nail. 

“Where did that come from?” he breathed, staring it down. 

She merely shrugged slim shoulders. “I’ve always had it. My mothers mother was from Autumn.”

A powerful Autumn family, to have that kind of magic, though he didn’t say that to her. She likely knew, besides, and if she was a Vanserra, Rhys would have warned him. Her family was no one important anymore, and the remnants of that magic small enough no one was missing it. 

“Here,” Gwyn murmured, twisting in the small landing of winding stairs to point toward the ceiling. Azriel would have missed it had Gwyn’s flame not illuminated the little string. She yanked, revealing more stairs narrow enough there was no way he was going to be able to wedge his body through. A slimmer male without wings might have been able to get through, and Gwyn, with her lithe form, began walking up them easily.

Azriel caught her wrist, heart thudding in his throat.

“It might not be safe.”

“As safe as being thrown off a roof. I want to know how she got up here. Don’t you?”

He hesitated, wondering what was wrong with him. Of course he wanted to know. Desperately, even, if only to satisfy his own curiosity. But…

“If you get stuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to get you out.”

Gwyn grinned, her body half lost to the darkness overhead. “Didn’t I tell you I’m a quarter nymph? I’m flexible, Azriel. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He took a step back, hating how his body reacted to those words. I’m flexible. Yeah, he bet she was. Jumping off the rail and back into the cool night air calmed his racing blood, settled the strange arousal that ignited when he heard her say that.

It’s just Gwyn. 

He repeated that the entire way up to the slick spire, boots hitting the marble loudly. In the distance, he could hear Gwyn quietly swearing to herself, climbing the stairs much like Nesta had back when Cassian had first begun to train her. She appeared a moment later, pulling herself from a hatch in the ceiling he’d missed the night before.

Azriel offered her a hand, surprised when she accepted gratefully. “You’re out of shape,” he commented.

“Shut up,” she panted back, hands braced on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Azriel had to look away because of the spring green dress she wore was cut just low enough that her breasts pressed against the top, all but spilling over.

That fucking dress.

He’d kill Kai for it. 

Gwyn stood, reaching for his arm when a rough gust of stormy air slammed into them both. Azriel flung out one of his wings, shielding them both from the impending storm. “Gods,” Gwyn breathed, looking out at the word with clear eyes. “How desperate she must have been…”

Azriel was tempted to crush Gwyn to his chest. He didn’t like how easily she was empathizing with the now dead queen who had, presumably, ended her own life. That would have been too much, and Gwyn seemed fine, though his swirling shadows were poised around him, ready to intervene at a moment's notice. Whispering—always whispering. 

But everyone in the palace was asleep, or at least looking elsewhere.

“If I were miserable,” Gwyn began, releasing her grip on his bicep as she inched toward the edge. Azriel’s heart thudded wildly, palms sweating even though he’d asked her to do this. “Why would I choose this method?”

Azriel considered that too. “Maybe she was being watched closely?”

“Maybe,” Gwyn conceded, toeing the very edge of the rail. Cinnamon hair whipped around her beautiful face, hiding eyes that were drowning in pain. Gwyn took a breath, body heaving. “Or maybe she just wanted to feel free.”

Azriel jerked out on instinct to grab her, forgetting for one horrible second he’d asked Gwyn to jump. All he saw was her body leap into the world, filling him with heart shattering panic. There was no thinking when he went after her, wings spread to catch the draft. Gwyn was headed not for the rocks, but the ground below which would kill her the moment the two met. 

Not her.

He caught her a heartbeat later, the weight of her sending them both spiraling downward for a breathless second. She grabbed his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around his waist, mouth on his neck.

She was laughing. He’d thought she’d been crying, but Gwyn was laughing with the kind of open, undiluted joy he so rarely let himself feel—and never in front of another person.”I was right,” she told him, voice breathless with wonder. “I do love flying.”

He beat his wings, taking them back up into the sky, obscured by the clouds. “So do I,” he told her. Gwyn laughter was infectious, forcing a smile—and then a laugh—from his mouth seemingly because she willed it. He circled the spire, both arms wrapped around her, laughing like he was young again. Gods, but Azriel couldn’t remember the last time anything had felt so easy or when he’d felt quite so free. But right then, floating beside a fat cloud filled with rain, Azriel thought he might never come down.

He was almost glad to be Illyrian. Grateful for his wings, if nothing else, so he could give her this. Gwyn looked so alive, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. All that sadness he’d grown so accustomed to seeing had vanished, leaving only joy in its wake. This was who she might have been without Hybern.

Beautiful. 

The thought came to him unbidden, catching him by surprise. It was enough to remind him they weren’t up there to dance or fly—but to figure out what happened to the queen. Blowing out a breath, Azriel resisted the urge to bury his face in Gwyn’s hair. “You weren’t falling toward the rocks.”

“No,” she agreed, her smile dimming a little. The shadows returned to her expression, stealing her happiness as reality crept back in. They weren’t really free, even if they felt like it. Gwyn rested her chin on his shoulder, sighing softly. “I was going toward land.”

“It still would have killed you,” Azriel said, the thought so abhorrent to him and yet he couldn’t keep the image of her body slamming against the surface and those eyes of hers fading until they were sightless and dull.

His grip on her tightened ever so slightly. “Maybe it was a figure of speech,” Azriel murmured, circling back toward the rocks.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Or maybe she was pushed.”

“You jumped,” he reminded her, the toes of his boots skimming over the tower again. “Would a push be more forceful?”

“Want to find out?” she offered, shuddering in his grip. No, Azriel didn’t think he wanted to watch her fly toward the rocks because of his hands. He shook his head, taking them toward the edge of the water, sparkling like diamonds far below. 

“She was pushed…or she didn’t die up there at all. Not like they said, anyway,” he murmured instead. 

“Why?” Gwyn asked, well aware he had no answer. “Why would someone do that?”

He only shook his head. Why would anyone kill their monarch who, by all accounts, held very little power. The royal family was still grieving, presumably, though that didn’t mean they hadn’t participated. Shame and guilt were powerful motivators—almost as powerful as grief. 

“Come on,” he murmured. “We won’t solve this in one night.”

Gwyn relaxed, swallowing softly. “Did I scare you?” she asked him as he began to bring them down from the clouds—just in time. A fat droplet of rain splashed over his cheek, startling him.

“No.”

It was a lie. He’d been terrified watching her jump off. Not because he thought he couldn’t catch her in time, but because she looked so at ease doing so. Like she wanted to fling herself off that roof, and didn’t care if he caught her or not. It was tempting to ask her if he’d been right about her, but Azriel didn’t dare.

Not when it meant having to admit how he knew what that expression meant—because he’d seen it on himself, too. Too often to count, in fact, so numerous that sometimes when he looked at himself in the mirror, there was nothing but swirling darkness staring back. Staring down at Gwyn and the brightness emanating from her, Azriel wondered if it wasn’t all an act. Showing him what she thought he wanted to see.

But Azriel didn’t want to see light if there was none. And he didn’t want to see happiness if it didn’t exist. He wanted to see her.

Darkness and all.

[127tyong]

I.O.U

(Be There For You Follow Up)

A/N: Same universe as BTFY, different characters, same medicine. You don't need to read BTFY to understand this story tho they're kinda their own thing

Pairing: Qian Kun X Reader

Genre: Be There For You AU, Smut, Doctor Kun, Good Ending, (as always, i know nothing about medicine lol)

Warnings: Mind Break, kun is kinda mean

Word Count: 2.3k

“I mean, every college kid does a clinical trial to make a quick buck at least once, right? That’s just like, part of the freshman experience!” You were on the phone with your friend as you stood outside the clinic, ready to get tied up to an IV for 10 hours or have your sleep monitored. 

“Whatever. Don’t let them do anything stupid to you, alright?” Your friend replied, dryly.

“They’re doctors! They wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, right? Anyways, I’m gonna go in!” Way too optimistic, considering you were willing to go through Hell for $1000.

You walked in and went to the front desk.

“Hi, can I help you?” The worker, wearing a name tag that said “Jeno” asked you. He seemed… like your average nerd. Chunky, black rimmed glasses in a rectangle shape.

“I’m actually wondering if you have any studies that I could participate in.” You smiled up at him, biting your lip, as to avoid asking him if his bright pink hair was up to code.

“Hm…” He grabbed a paper. “How about you fill this out to let us get a better grasp of who you are, then I’ll have a doctor chat with you, alright?” He quickly smiled up at you, but his eyes were cold, probably wishing you’d leave him alone already.

You nodded. “Thanks!”

After about 30 minutes and 100 questions later, you were called into an exam room, and you sat on the bed in there.

A young man with wire rimmed glasses and light blue hair entered and applied hand sanitizer. “So, my name is Kun Qian. So I’ve checked your questionnaire and your medical history, and I’ve compiled a list of things you are able to participate in.”

He handed you a stack of papers, and on top, there it was.

Project E 2.0

This medication is being tested to treat PCOS and other hormone irregularities.

Side effects include a heightened libido, sensitivity during sex, as well as more intense and stronger orgasms.

You glanced up at Kun, who was clicking his pen. “I’ll just do this one, it seems simple enough.”

Kun sighed, rolling his neck back to crack his neck. “The E one? It’s important for you to know that the side effects of this medication are… strong, to say the least.”

“What, am I going to go feral? It’s fine, just give me the jab.” You laughed, but Kun didn’t respond.

“Yes. The woman who received the 1.0 version was unable to sleep, eat… she couldn’t live a normal life for several weeks because of it. All she was able to do was have sex and be force-fed by her doctor… Well, boyfriend now, I guess.” He pulled off his glasses and looked you in the eye. “I promise, I will be right here, ready to assist you, or anything you may need, but I need to know that you can deal with the pain.”

“Well, when you put it like that… I guess I should learn a bit more first.”

“Do you have a husband or wife? Any significant other that might be able to help?” Kun started to write stuff down on his clipboard.

“Er, I have a roommate?” You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, unsure of what Kun meant.

Kun exhaled loudly, leaning back in his chair, his annoyance with you obvious. “I meant someone you could have sex with, madam.”

“I have a vibrator?” You laughed, the hairs on your arms standing due to your nerves.

Kun bit his lip. “I think it’s in your best interest to choose another option.”

“Um, but I think this would be the easiest for me… All I have to do is track possible side effects, right? And I can go home?” You flipped through the other studies, ranging from a hypothermia study to a sociology study.

“Well, you’d have to stay here for a week, only so we can see how you’d react… but yes, you can.” Kun clicked his pen against the clipboard. “I’ll give it to you. Let me lead you to your room.

~

It actually wasn’t that bad, considering this was an independent clinic. You had your own bedroom and bathroom, and your roommate sent you clothes for your week stay. 

Kun sat on the chair next to your bed, letting you settle in before giving you the shot.

“I’m ready.” You sat on the bed, shuffling over to where Kun was sitting.

“There.” Kun injected it. “I’ll stay with you for the first hour, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Do you wanna get in bed with me?” You scooched over, letting him in. 

“Um…” Kun stood up, sitting down next to you, taking his shoes off before moving to sit next to you.

“So, Doctor, how’s your day going?” You turned on the TV in front of you, switching the channel to some cheesy reality Lifetime show.

“You’re the first person I’ve seen today, so I guess… Good.” Kun inspected your body, from the palms of your hands down to your chest, then your thighs and feet. “So… what made you want to do this?”

“Money?” You glanced at him, noticing how plump his lips were after he bit his bottom lip. “Why does anyone let themselves do something like this?”

“Well, you’re not wrong, I guess.” The palm of his hand pressed against your forehead, trying to feel for your temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s only been like… 5 minutes, so I guess I feel the same.” You looked up at Kun, who was now standing up and sliding his shoes back on.

A minute turned to two minutes, two turned to twenty, twenty turned to sixty…

“I want to check something.” Kun grabbed his stethoscope, putting it in his ears and against your heart. “I’ll be back in a minute…”

You just sat there, scrolling through your phone. 

And it started. Your back hit the bed’s back board, the heat getting to you. You knew you were going to get horny, but you didn’t know it was going to be this bad…

The heavy wooden door opened again. “Okay, so I wanted to see if-” 

“Doctor…” Your voice was so whiny, you hardly knew you could make that kind of tone. “Need you.” You sat on your knees, reaching out for him, lips pouting, drawling out every word. Blood coursed through your veins, your heart beating out of your chest. And you felt all the blood rush to your clit at the sight of Kun.

“Fuck.” Kun pressed the stethoscope back against your chest, and after about 10 seconds he ripped it out of his ears, falling down towards your body, one of his hands on your shoulder, the other on your back. “Come on sweetie, let’s get you in the shower… or something, I…” Kun frantically looked around, his concern for you resulting in a furrowed brow. “Did your roommate bring you anything, a dildo, or…”

“You…” You finally got out a word. “Please, fuck me.” Tears began to well up in your eyes. It truly was a feeling you never felt, it was like you had been edging for days without release.

A million thoughts rushed into Kun's mind all at once. The loudest one being the word pathetic. You were a pathetic, whining mess, begging him for his cock, needing to fuck him. And it made him so hard. Any man would get hard in his situation, he figured. But he knew he had to stay professional, even if it was for a few more minutes. “I… I don’t think I can, I mean, I’m your doctor!” Kun pushed you off him, then slipped your jacket off you, trying to get you to cool down. 

You had a ball of the fabric of Kun’s lab coat in your fist. “Please, I need… anyone.”

“Fuck, fuck… I thought Jaemin fixed it… I knew I shouldn’t have fucking trusted him.” Kun bit his lip, half wanting to search the suitcase and dressers in your room, but also knowing he needed to comfort you right now.

“Cum… Cum inside me…” You whined, your head hitting Kun’s chest. You breathed in the thick scent of his cologne. Minty, musky and woody. He smelled so good, and that just made things worse for some reason. It truly felt like you were going feral, like you were turning back to your primal instincts, needing him inside you, his warm release, to be filled up. “Need… you inside me…”

“Come on baby… work with me.” Kun helped you to your feet, leading you into the bathroom. The lock on the door automatically locked behind the two of you. Kun started undressing you as quickly as possible then pushed you into the bathtub. “Tell me if the water’s too cold.” He turned on the water, the cold helping lower your temperature.

“Kun…” You cooed, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Please, fuck me.”

You caught Kun looking at your body, up at your breasts and down to your thighs…

“I’ll, um…” Kun’s hand entered the water,  and began to rub your clit, making you immediately reach your climax.

“Doctor!” You cried out. “More, more please!”

“I don’t know, I don’t know how to help you anymore…” Kun mumbled, thinking hard.

“Cock, please…” You whined.

“Fuck…” Kun helped you out of the bathtub and wrapped you in a towel, quickly drying you off then leading you to the bed, bending you over the mattress.

“Cum inside, please, please, please…” You really felt like you were actually going brain dead, the only thing on your mind being Kun’s cock. 

And he finally was inside you. You let Kun do whatever he wanted to with your body. You figured he must’ve been pent up, too. The way his cock slammed into your womb, hitting your cervix with ease, letting you know how sore you were going to be tomorrow. His hands made their way into your mouth, both middle and ring fingers hooking into your cheeks, stretching your lips horizontally, making you drool, tongue sticking out on its own.

He was rough, nothing like the shy boy he was two seconds ago, who didn’t even know if he should be fucking you. It was like a flip switched in his brain, like he was just pretending to be kind so his cock would feel even better when it went inside you…

“Doctor, please be gentler!” You felt like you were melting on his dick, so hot and so hard…

“I don’t want to.” His hands moved to your neck, wrapping around your neck, choking you until you were unable to breathe. 

“Cumming!” You screamed out, hitting your second climax.

You felt your womb filling up with Kun’s cum before he pulled out. 

He picked you up and laid you back down. “Do you feel better?”

You nodded, sitting up, covering yourself with the blanket.

“Good. I’ll be back with your dinner.” Kun slid his pants back up then left.

~

And after about 30 minutes you felt like a bitch in heat all over again. 

“Dinner.” Kun entered again after 45 minutes, catching you with your fingers inside yourself. “Jesus Christ…” He sighed, slamming the tray onto the nearest table.

“Doctor…” You whimpered, hoping he would fuck your again. 

“You’re so… pathetic. And whiny.” Kun ran his hands through your hair, then grabbed your hand, pulling your fingers out of yourself and licking your juices off. He stood at the foot of the bed, grabbing your foot to pull you down and began to lick your clit. 

And again, you practically immediately reached your high…

Kun wiped his face, your cum on his nose and lips. “Do you feel better?”

You shook your head. “Cum…” You whined. “Please?”

Kun facepalmed, sighing. “Ride me.” He sat on the couch in your room. 

You slid off your bed and sat on Kun’s lap, facing away from him, lining his cock into you.

“You know, it’ll hurt more if you take it slow. Put it in all at once.” Kun his hand on your waist, stabilizing you. 

“I know!” You whined, shoving it in. “Fuck!”

“Hm? Is that it?” Kun’s tone became more mocking than annoyed. “Do I have to do everything for you?” His arm went under your knees, fucking you under you. 

“You’re in too deep, Doctor!” You cried out. You felt like Kun was in your womb. “You’re not gonna be able to pull out!”

“Don’t think.” Kun instructed.

And you did as told, letting your brain melt into nothingness other than the feeling of Kun’s cock inside you. You probably wouldn’t be able to recall your own name…

That was, until Kun’s cum flowed inside you again, bringing you into your own orgasm.

Kun dropped you back onto his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck and your head fell onto his chest.

~

You woke up still on Kun’s lap.

“How long-”

Kun cut you off. “45 minutes. It’s fine.” But really, the entire left side of Kun’s body was numb.

You nodded. 

“So, what did you think?” Kun asked you as you climbed off his lap and back onto your own bed.

“It was… good. Amazing, actually, I’ve never felt so good…” You started dreaming about getting stuffed full of Kun’s cum all over again…

“I was talking about the medicine, but thanks for rating my dick.” Kun scoffed, getting up to give you your dinner. 

“Oh. Not as fun.” You watched Kun.

“I, um… was thinking that you could live with me and help me test the rest of the iterations of the medication.” Kun hooked you back up to the blood pressure monitor. 

“Maybe.” You took a bite of the dinner. “But I’ll say yes if it means I can keep having sex with you.

“You can keep having sex with me even when you stop being my patient.”

[pillarboxed]

Look Back (2024) Review

Director: Kiyotaka Oshiyama

Runtime: 58 minutes

Language: Japanese audio; English and Mandarin subtitles

Certification: PG (Singapore), P12 (Malaysia)

Via @lookback_anime on X

Look Back (2024) is an anime film that faithfully adapts Tatsuki Fujimoto’s one-shot manga of the same name. If the adaptation had been even more faithful by treating the manga as the final storyboards, the barely one-hour runtime would probably have been even shorter. However, writer-director Kiyotaka Oshiyama makes tweaks and additions that increase the runtime and the emotions.

Look Back follows two girls, Fujino and Kyomoto, as they grow up pursuing their artistic ambitions. But when a horrific tragedy strikes them, Fujino is forced to reflect on why she even draws in the first place.

The changes Oshiyama has made really work in his favour. After watching the film, I read the manga, and I’m glad he expanded on its contents—especially the scene in which Fujino skips through paddy fields in the pouring rain. Before this, Fujino had decided to give up on drawing because she felt like no matter how much effort she put in, she couldn’t get better than Kyomoto, her truant schoolmate. Discouragement from her older sister and a friend gets to Fujino too. When she finally meets her “rival”, however, Kyomoto exclaims that she’s a fan, asks for an autograph, and declares Fujino a manga genius. During their interaction, Fujino seems like she doesn’t really want to be doing this, but when she leaves, she can’t help but succumb to her excitement. While the manga uses a two-page spread to emphasise the moment of Fujino skipping through those paddy fields, the film gives us a lot more time.

We start with an aerial shot looking at Fujino as a tiny dot moving along a path that cuts through silvery pools of water. The camera smoothly moves down and pushes close to her from behind, revealing that she isn’t lightly skipping but very forcefully driving her arms and knees up. When we get to see her face, she has such an intense expression: her brow is scrunched up and her lips are pouting. I wouldn’t call this a look of joy. Still, she leans to the side and sweeps her arm through a furrow, sending water splashing out. She keeps skipping towards the camera and us all the while. My guess is that more than joy, she feels vindicated. Asked about scenes he’s “particularly happy with” in an interview with Anime News Network (ANN), Oshiyama points out this one. With its energy—and that wonderful juxtaposition between Fujino’s facial expression and body language—this is my favourite scene of the film. I love it.

I’ve mentioned that I’m not keen on melodrama in previous reviews. However, I’ve come to realise that exaggerating emotions can often work really well in animation, including in Look Back, with the film being more sentimental than the manga. And yes, I do like the anime better.

In that same ANN interview, Oshiyama points to the montages of Fujino hunched over her desk while “the scenery outside the window [changes]” as visuals that “accurately represent the emotional difficulties of being a creator”. Although I prefer the anime overall, I have to say that I relate more to how the manga portrays this struggle.

When we first meet Fujino as a professional manga artist in the film, we get a montage of her working at her desk, with the images changing drastically. The scenery outside changes with the seasons, her hair grows from short to long, and the actual office she’s in changes. On the other hand, the manga gives us five panels which all look almost the same. The seasons outside don’t change. The location doesn’t change. What changes are the position of her body and the angle of her drawing tablet. They’re subtle changes. Unlike the film, this portrayal is not romantic. It’s monotonous. Based on my own experiences of creating, this depiction feels more real.

Via @lookback_anime on X

“I guess you could say, on some level, [Look Back is] meant to be an affirmation for creators like us,” Oshiyama says, in response to a question about the film’s messages. “So, my hope is that by showing characters pouring themselves into working hard to create something, people will appreciate that hard work is still meaningful.”

Now that I’ve graduated university, I’ve spent a lot of time writing. So, it seems like I’m often just sitting and staring at my laptop screen. I frequently think, “What am I doing?” Though I do prefer the film as a whole, it’s those monotonous manga panels of Fujino hunkered down over her desk that have comforted me. But it’s the film that led me to reading the manga.

Rating: 4/5

Look Back is currently showing in Singapore.

Last updated: Oct 14, 2024

[rosie-kairi]

Little OC Drabble :3

Tsuki looks at Chaoxiang with those bright, beautiful red eyes of hers, shimmering with that same light they always seemed to have, even in the low lighting. She looks, and she smiles, and she waits for him to answer her, head propped up on one of her knees while one hand laid on the ground- almost asking for Chaoxiang to take it into his own. Her blue braids cascade around her face like a waterfall, framing it like a picture.

It’s moments like this that make Chaoxiang feel even worse about lying to her- to all of them, really, but especially Tsuki. In her mind, this is the first time they’ve shared this moment. They are alone, sitting at the edge of a pool outside someone’s house party, shoes and socks discarded in favor of dipping their feet in the cool water, music booming through the walls, illuminated only by the ever-shifting colors of the pool and by the shining spotlights of the stars above. Strings of lights are hung across the porch and the fences, but they have been long since turned off. It’s like a painting in its intimacy, a snapshot of a moment, but not something that was actively happening. The type of event you watched from afar. 

“Tsuki, I…” he whispered, like anything louder would break the immersion. A confession was at the tip of his tongue, but of what, he did not know. One loop, he had confessed his feelings for her here, bared his heart and soul out for her to see. The night had ended with them both soaked, blushing, laughing, and completely engrossed in each other’s presence. It’s something he very much would like to experience again, but the repetition of that event would make it less sacred, more artificial. It wasn’t the same if he knew how it would end, he just felt dirty- like he was taking advantage of Tsuki, somehow. 

Maybe he would confess his lies to her. Tell her straight up about the time-loop, how he got them all stuck there forever because he wasn’t strong enough to defeat Nightmare’s little Cult the first time around which, y’know, was supposed to be his one job. How he was a failure who couldn’t handle that fact, and now everyone else has to pay the consequences of his fuck up. 

A fuck up that, in the loop, he couldn’t even fix. Like so many other times, this was out of his hands, someone else was the hero. 

Chaoxiang’s eyes drifted down towards Tsuki’s left hand, catching on the bracelet that adorned it; a blue beaded bracelet with a star-shaped gem charm in the middle. The opal-like gemstone shimmered in the shifting lights of the pool. That gemstone had many times been his, situated squarely on his right ring finger, green instead of blue. It was so inconspicuous, you would never guess the ancient power that ran through such a small piece of rock.

Tsuki was the hero this time around, and she had been doing well, far better than he ever did at this point in the year, to be honest. 

He realized he had trailed off and never completed his sentence, but he didn’t know how to complete it in the first place. 

“Hm?” Tsuki hummed, leaning closer. “Me, what? Come on Chaoxiang, spill it!” she said in that sweet, melodious voice of hers. He could listen to it all day, and that wasn’t just the influence from Tsuki’s latent siren genes speaking. 

“I…” Love you? I’m sorry? What would he even say to her? She deserved better than this lousy failure of a best friend, too weak to handle the consequences of his actions. “...’m getting a bit tired now, I think I’m gonna head home soon.” He eventually settled on, like a coward.

Tsuki pouted in that cute way she always did. She looked like she would say something to try and convince him to stay, but she just nodded and replied “I guess it is getting a little late, isn’t it? Curfew’ll be coming up soon…”

“Yeah..” Chaoxiang replied. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Tsuki hoisted herself off the ground, bracelet clink-ing softly as she did so. “Are you still up for driving me home? You don’t have to, I can always call Aunt Chie to pick me up.”

Chaoxiang got up as well, wiping dirt off of his pants. “Of course, don’t worry.” he smiled at her, and hoped it didn’t appear forced. “My motorcycles got enough room for two, and you know I’ve been dying to take you on it.” He said what he always said, because it was true. Nothing really beat that first euphoric feeling of riding through the night, wind in his face and arms wrapped tightly around his waist. No matter how many times it happened, the adrenaline junkie in Chaoxiang still savored it. 

Tsuki smiled at him, “and you know how much I’ve been dying to ride it! Now come on, let’s go already.” she giggled. 

Side-by-side, they walked out of the house party together. Chaoxiang was grateful to get out this early, to be honest, as later on in the night the police would show up, and while that was a fun stealth game to play with Tsuki, he wasn’t in the mood for it this time around. 

Their hands brushed against each others’, and Chaoxiang had to do everything in his power to stop himself from taking Tsuki’s hand. 

He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve her.

And he was scared of the day when Tsuki would eventually realize that by herself. 

[fancyfade]

I thought I’d just ask you. Do you think you could do on Cyborg and Babs. They’re personalities and fighting styles. I don’t think I get any where with them.😅

like? Just a run-down on what I think their personalities are? :P

Vic in NTT* is portrayed as insecure in his place in the world and his body, due to having suddenly become disabled in a traumatic accident that also killed his mother. He wakes up to find his body modified (cybernetics) which is dad did to save his life -- there wasn't really a way to get Vic conscious and say "oh hey are you ok with this?" -- but understandable Vic is upset since like. His mom is dead and his body is completely different, he has to re-learn how to walk and do everything, and he views himself as one of his dad's 'science experiments'. (part of this is b/c his parents did do some experiments in his youth to increase his intelligence IIRC).

Vic is also pretty good at reading people. In NTT's first arc, he can tell that Wally cares about Raven (but is mad at her) and he kind of manipulates Wally to get him to help save people :P

People often view him as angry, and well, he does have lots of anger on the surface due to his insecurity and trauma, but I wouldn't say he has more than many of the other titans. He's actually not very likely to yell at people, he mostly just withdraws and avoids confronting emotions, like when he's feeling guilty that his civilian friend (Sarah Simms) got kidnapped by deathstroke and he was worried about her, he avoids the issue and just like. ghosts her I guess but ghosting wasn't invented yet as a term :P

Vic generally has positive rapport with most of the Titans, he calls people nicknames and oftentimes they seem slightly insulting on the outside (but like :P Lots of Titans do that, so he's not unique here) but they are affectionate. That's just how the Titans bond :P

He seems to have lots of rapport with Kory, they agree on a lot in terms of action, both being very direct people . Which makes it funny when Vic is like "for once I agree with you, Goldie". I'm like. VIc. You agree with Kory ALL THE TIME.

Vic also volunteers with Sarah Simms, who is a teacher for disabled children, some of whom have protheses and look up to him and admire him. He's portrayed as very patient and caring around the kids. He does have a strong connection to the disabled community here, and his comics are strongest when that is emphasized IMO. Here's a scene in ToT (link) that I liked that emphasized that

Less fighting style emphasis here, sorry.

Also: Link to a post (link) where I talked some about his relationship w/ his body and his parents.

Ok so Babs time:

Babs is a pretty direct woman, she reads as kind of autistic to me :P Lots of her conflicts with Dinah in BoP are kind of like a "logical vs emotional" thing, though maybe that's a bit of a simplified explanation? Like babs is normally a long-term thinker and risk adverse, Dinah is much less risk adverse (which makes sense, b/c Dinah is the one putting her life on her line, and superheroes seem more willing to risk their own lives in general than other people's :P)

She is not super open with her feelings, and it leads to some friction. she generally pushes people away. When Dinah gets captured and injured by Savant, Babs pushes her away emotionally, saying she should not go out in the field. She also in general pushes Dick away early on in BoP and keeps him at arms' length. Babs in general is a person who does not like to be emotionally vulnerable.

Somewhat related to this: the way babs processes trauma is oriented around control (link). She processes trauma in a way we see more male characters written with, where there is a lot less emphasis on her being afraid, she does not allow people to comfort her, and there is more emphasis on her getting mad and getting better.

She is a Planner ™. All her bases are super well defended, as we see in Hunt for Oracle and some NML comics. They have different lines of defense for different stages and threat levels.

She also is a huge believer in second chances and redemption, even in her pre-Oracle Batgirl days. (1 of my fave babs quotes is pre Oracle: "I’ll always believe in second chances. I’m too flawed myself not to"). I think that matters a lot because a) she does try to give other people second chances a lot and b) she does mess up a lot and try to get better. Like she apologizes after pushing Dinah away, and admits it was her own issues, and not Dinah. She is manipulative of Helena, trying to get her to change her morality without telling her, and also does apologize and make amends and stick in helena's corner. So she's a character with a lot of flaws, but she always tries to do better, and she extends that opportunity to other people, too.

Fighting style stuff later, I had this in drafts for a bit and it was getting long :P

*for many characters who debuted in New Teen Titans, NTT is my go-to reference :P