#I have no idea how this site works I'm fighting for my life

[insomniaflarrow]

Hello! (Plus fic)

I am slowly reintegrating into social fandom space after a long break, but am brand new to Tumblr, so I just wanted to say hi and link my recent project!

You can find my writing over on AO3 under the same user :D

Summary: Three hundred and fifty eight TVA cycles after Loki's unexplained disappearance into the Void with the timelines in tow, the universe begins to collapse.

Relationships: Loki & Mobius M. Mobius, Loki/Mobius M. Mobius (ambiguous)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Gen or Pre-Slash, Friendship/Love, Loki Needs a Hug (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius Needs a Hug, Loneliness, Body Horror, not particularly graphic, body horror of the sci-fi kind, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Recovery, Post-Episode: s02e06 Glorious Purpose (Loki TV)

[xhoneygirlxx]

Fade Me

Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: your night is ruined when your date is a no show. maybe the handsome stranger at the end of the bar can fix it.

warnings: slight angst. reader is 30, Eddie is early 40s. Modern au! Reader's date sucks. Eddie is a sweetheart. Fluff. Swearing. Shitty writing and grammar mistakes!!! Not proofread!!!! Also Minors go away, I'm an 18+ blog.

*if I missed anything lmk

a/n: WELCOME TO MY BIRTHDAY BASH EVERYONE!!!!!!! I'm so excited to be celebrating with all of you guys!! This isn't my best work but I think its cute and that's all that matters. Love you all and hope you guys like this <3

Oh, maybe, you could devastate me.

Little lady, come and fade me.

Everything at the moment was pissing you off, setting spark to the last small fuse that sat within you. The pain from sitting on the hard bar stool was shooting pain right to your tailbone, not going away no matter how many times you switch your position. The unforgiving squeeze of the uncomfortable heels radiated pain all over your feet and you knew they would be swollen in the morning. The group of rowdy girls at the back of the bar were shrieking with joy over something you have no idea about, but you did know that you wanted to drag all of them by their scalp and remove them from the bar. 

This was stupid, so fucking stupid, and you knew from the very start that it wasn’t going to work. It never does and the next time you see your friends, they aren't going to hear the end of it. Dating sites and dating in general were things you didn’t like to partake in and for good reason. 

Out of all your friends, you happened to be the only single one and you were fine with that, but they weren’t. They begged you, since the moment you broke up with your college sweetheart, to get back out into the dating world. It was actually irritating that they cared so much about your relationship status so much, if you were hooking up with anyone, all under the guise of wanting you to be happy. Truthfully they did want you to be happy and they knew you craved having a relationship, but you were pissed and wanted to stew in your own anger.

Well, right now you were everything but happy. In fact you were furious. Furious with yourself, with them, and most importantly your stupid ass date, Luke. After your thirtieth birthday, your friends all but tackled your phone out of your grasp, making you a stupid tinder profile. 

“Thirty is the new twenty one, babe,” Dahlia said as she and the two other girls scrolled through pictures to post. 

Twenty one your ass, you think, especially with the way you’re fighting a yawn at only nine thirty on a Friday night. 

So you gave in, swiped on a few different people who snatched your attention, one of them being Luke. He was handsome, smiling brightly with a bottle of Corona in his hand and a pair of Raybans perched on the bridge of his nose. His bio was simple, straight to the point, and it was the least douchey thing you’ve read while on the app. 

After making short conversation, you learned that he was an investment banker, working in the Citibank building downtown. His interests were the same as yours, very shy yet loved to have a good time with friends. The best selling point was his dog, Cali, that could be seen in a few of the other pictures he had. 

You were sold, with his witty banter and the fact that he had his life together at thirty two didn’t make the decision hard, especially when all the other people you know that are your age don’t have a solid plan. Which in argument's sake is fine, however you weren’t getting any younger and the want to get married and start a life with someone was getting strong, even though you’d never admit it to your friends. 

So that’s why you’re sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Indy, waiting patiently for your date, who happens to be an hour late, in a dress you spent sixty dollars on. It was a pathetic feeling really, putting this much faith into a stranger in the hopes of finding the one. It’s actually why you didn’t want to do it in the first place and why your friends would have to face your wrath when you get home. 

The buzzing of your phone on the wooden bar jolts you awake, the wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins making your heart pump erratically. 

IMessage 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand. 

With a defeated sigh you turn your phone face down, not having the energy to cuss the asshole out for making you wait so long. Pulling your focus on the bartender, you flag him over and order a martini. Dry martini. Very dry. 

When the man places the glass in front of you, he gives you a weak smile as if he knows what’s happening. He probably does know what’s happening, he’s probably seen this happen more times than he’d like to admit and it only adds to your frustration. 

Muttering a small thanks, you take a big swig from the crystal glass, letting the liquor burn down your esophagus. It hits your stomach causing an instant burn, more fuel to the fire that’s been shimmering below the surface. The pity you started to feel has now turned into a new found rage. 

Quickly picking up your phone, you ignore the burn from the sting of the bright light, and tap on Luke’s text. 

Staring at it, you can feel the fire ripping through your body, all the anger and embarrassment you’ve let build up while sitting here coming out as you read his last message. 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand.  

You: That would’ve been awesome to know about an hour ago. Thank you for wasting my Friday night asshole. 

Before you can text more insults, a gruff voice interrupts the quick tapping of your acrylic nails on the screen.  

“Trust me sweetheart, he’s not worth it.” Pulling your gaze from your phone, you try to find the owner of the voice. 

Turning to your right you see him, two seats away from you, tucked away into the corner at the end of the bar. You’re not sure when he got there or if he’s been there the whole time but his presence alone is pissing you off. You’re ready to aim your dagger like tongue at him and tell him to go fuck himself when you take in his appearance. 

A plain black tee shirt pulled taunt across his broad chest, tattooed arms squeezed by the material just right. On his hands sits more black ink and nice silver rings, gleaming in the low light of the bar. His hair is brown with a streak or two of salt and pepper mixed in, wisps of hair framing his face from where it fell out of the low bun it’s been pulled into. The crows feet by his eyes are fitting, especially when his dimpled smile is peaking through from where it sits behind his glass of whiskey. 

He seems older, at least from the discolored hair and stubble on his chin, but he’s very handsome. Actually he’s hot and if you weren’t so mad right now, you’d be flirting with him. That’s not the case though, not when he has a smug ass smile on his face like he’s all knowing. 

“What d’you know?” You bite back, waiting for the handsome stranger to answer. When he takes more than a second to answer, you cock an eyebrow at him like it’s taking him too long. 

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” He replies cooly, putting his glass down on the coaster, “Don’t text her, it’s not worth it.” When his eyes meet yours, you can’t help but stop breathing. 

Big brown eyes looking right at you, so soft and gentle. You sink into the warmth of his eyes on you, almost letting yourself drift away. But you’re mad and this stranger is the perfect person to let it all out on. 

“No they’re not a she, and even if it was you don’t know anything.” You look back down at your phone, tapping away at your keyboard finishing what you had started. When you hear him huff out a laugh, the frown that was on your face before quickly deepens. 

“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t know anything. What I do know is when a pretty girl like yourself has been sitting alone at a bar for longer than an hour and suddenly starts tapping away on that thing, like you are right now, I know she’s been stood up.” 

His statement brings you right back out of your phone, willing yourself not to wipe that ‘know it all’ look right off of his pretty face. Your scowl is piercing right through him, hating the way that he could see right through you and yet not having a clue who you were. 

“Hey, I’m not judging,” He throws his hands up in surrender, “But I promise, whatever douche made someone as stunning as you, wait in a bar this long for ‘em, doesn’t deserve you. Plus, you’re too pretty to be lookin’ that angry.” He picks his glass up, finishing off the rest before nodding to the bartender for another. 

In any other situation you’d be telling them off, yelling at them to get lost, but something about this stranger feels different. You could write it off and say it’s because he’s attractive but in all actuality, it’s because he’s gentle when he says it. His eyes aren’t roaming your body like some pig, hoping to get into your panties by sweet talking to you. It’s like he actually cares about you, the stranger in her pretty dress who has been stood up by her date, like he’s known you his whole life. 

Slowly you set your phone down, relaxing the sour look on your face, and you take a deep breath. The last thing you want to do is cry, especially in a bar, and especially in front of the caring hot stranger. 

“Is it that obvious?” You ask shyly, picking up your martini glass for another sip. The man shakes his head, moving his posture so that he’s leaning towards you. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, “Don’t start thinking down on yourself. Yes it was a little obvious but my suspicion grew more when you didn’t order a drink after sitting at a bar for five minutes.” 

The statement makes you laugh wetly when he says it, a single tear escaping your eye causing you to wipe it hoping it’s not noticeable. If he sees it, he doesn’t say anything, instead moving over to the seat next to you. 

“Listen, don’t let whatever dickhead person ruin your night. From what I’ve witnessed you’re a pretty badass chick, so whatever frat bro did this to you should be scared.” An inked hand places a white napkin in front of you, a peace offering that you’re quick to take. 

“That’s the worst part, he’s not even a frat bro. He’s a finance bro.” When you chance a look up at him, he’s looking right back at you, pearly white teeth staring at you. 

In a split second he’s laughing, a deep belly kind of laugh with his head thrown back. As much as you want to defend yourself, tell him that Luke wasn’t your first choice, you can’t. Following suit, you start giggling as well, placing the white napkin to the corner of your eye to collect any unushered tears. 

“I gotta tell you sugar, that’s even worse.” The pet name doesn’t get lost on you, heart stuttering the minute it falls from his lips. Trying to pull yourself together, hoping he didn’t see the way you stiffened at the name, you clear your throat. 

“Tell me about it,” You playfully roll your eyes, taking a sip of what’s left of your drink. 

When you move your sight back over to him, he’s leaning back, dimples showing off, almost like he knows something you don’t. He does know something however, he knows that he has some sort of effect on you, watching you with pink flushing your cheeks and it’s not from the alcohol. 

“So,” You break the silence, “Sugar, huh?” You furrow your brows questioningly and it only makes him smile bigger than before. 

When he leans forward you catch a whiff of his scent, pine and cedar, musky and smoky. He’s even prettier up close and your eyes are trying to map out every detail of him so that you can remember it when you go to sleep tonight, dreaming of the good looking stranger who made your night better. 

“Well, between the softness of your laugh and your scowl that could kill,” his voice is low and husky, saying a secret for only you to hear, “You have a little bit of sugar and spice. Kind of like that cartoon with the badass power wielding girls.” 

“Do you mean the PowerPuff Girls?” Cocking your head to the side you laugh, his true age showing in the way that he described the Cartoon Network show. 

“I’m showing my true age, huh? Well, in my defense I was fifteen and you probably weren’t born yet.” His crows feet become more defined. Shaking your head, you wave to the bartender for another martini. 

“Actually, I was five but you were close enough.” His eyes go wide in shock with your admission. When another glass is placed in front of you, you send a smile to the bartender and he gives you one back. 

Looking back at the man next to you, you raise an eyebrow, questioning why he’s so surprised at your age. Blowing out a big breath it seems he’s been holding the whole time, he takes a swig of his own drink. 

“Sorry, I just,” he sighs, looking back up at you quizzingly, “wow, you’re really thirty?” Although there’s no malice behind his question, you can’t help but frown at him. He notices and immediately back tracks. 

“Fuck, no not like that I just meant,” You wait for him to dig himself a deeper hole. When he finally gets his thoughts together, he looks at you, really looks at you and it makes you want to melt. “Listen, I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Honestly, I felt like a perv when I first started talkin’ to you, thinkin’ you were like twenty one. When you said you were thirty, I was just surprised, that’s all. Maybe a little excited knowing I might have a chance.” 

You take in what he says to you, how sincere his voice is, and you know he isn’t lying. You don’t want to give in so fast though, you want him to sweat it out a bit. So you take a sip of your drink, your eyebrow still arched in fake annoyance. With an extra shot of courage, you look over at him, fake pout on your red stained lip. 

“How can you have a chance when I don’t even know your name?” Your voice is like silk, smooth and soft. The older man clearly likes it, the way a smirk is formed on his pink kissable lips is a clear indicator. 

“M’Eddie, Eddie Munson,” He offers you his ringed hand for a handshake, “And you are?” You give him your name and he hums with delight. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

You snort loudly at his comment, covering your mouth to stop from any further laughter from falling from your lips. Eddie arches an eyebrow at you, questioning what you found so funny. 

“I’m sorry, that was just so corny.” Another giggle slips from you and the cool facade he had crumples, laughing along with you. 

“S’pretty bad, huh?’ He scrunches his nose and you think it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah it was bad, who told you that would work?” You take a sip of your martini and look at him from over the rim of your glass. 

Chuckling and shaking his head, Eddie rubs his forehead as if he’s stressed. Now he’s the one fumbling and nervous, you got him in the palm of your hand. 

“Goodness, it was going so well too.” You continue to tease, the playfulness dripping from your voice. Looking over at you Eddie can’t help but smile, those damn dimples back on display. 

“You’re trouble, sugar.” It’s said with the utmost confidence and it has you blushing.

“Oh you haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” It’s an invitation for him to find out and you hope he catches it. 

“How about I find out on Sunday over dinner and some drinks? What do you say?” Eddie leans into you when he says it, getting the closest he’s been to you, letting his husky voice fill your ears. 

Trying to hide the chill that runs up your back and the excitement that settles in your belly, you lean in just as close. “I’d say you have a date, pretty boy.” 

The two of you stay like that for a minute, smiling like giddy teens. Breaking away from the small moment, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, unlocking it and opening up the phone app to type in a new contact. 

Handing you the phone, his face seems boyish and giddy, you’re sure if he wasn’t sitting he’d be bouncing on the ball of his feet. Typing in your number, you shyly smile up at him handing back his phone. 

“I better hear from you Eddie Munson or finance bro won’t be the only one gettin’ his ass kicked.” Pointing a finger at him, you try your best to look as mean as possible but your plan quickly fails when you see his eyes shining at you. 

“Yes ma’am.” Throwing a wink at you, he reaches into his wallet and pulls a crisp hundred out and places it on the bar top. “I’ll be seein’ you soon, sugar.” Wrapping his fingers around yours, he places a kiss to the back of your hand. 

The feeling of his lips on your skin makes you ache for more, and the moment it’s gone you wish you can make him do it again. Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you look up at him like he’s hung the stars. 

The moment is cut short when the bartender asks Eddie if he wants change. Surprisingly he doesn’t look at the older man with anger for ruining it, instead he gives him a nice smile. 

“No Paul, the change is all yours. Also, this beautiful young lady’s drinks are on my tab.” Nodding his head, the bartender thanks Eddie for the generous tip. 

Pulling his attention back to you, he cuts you off before you can chastise him for paying. “Let me pay for the pretty girl who made my whole night, it’s the least I can do.” 

Rolling your eyes, you try hard to not let him see how flustered you are. When he bids you a goodnight, you can’t help but feel the ache of his absence. The whole time you’re in the Lyft home you think of him, staring out the window and replaying everything in your head. 

Once you get home, you sit in silence on the end of your bed, not worrying about the shower you need to take. You can’t believe the luck you had in meeting Eddie and a part of you wants to thank Luke for not showing up. 

The ding of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, your heartbeat picking up when you read your screen. 

Maybe Eddie: Hey it’s Eddie, just wanted to make sure you got home safe. I wanted to ask if you could thank that loser for not showin up, he really did both of us a favor tonight. 

When you read it, you can’t help but giggle a little. Although corny and maybe a little dorky, Eddie had thought the same thing as you and for some reason it sent the butterflies in your tummy on a rampage. 

Maybe Eddie: You’re totally laughing at me right now, aren’t you?

Bursting into laughter, your tummy flips in excitement, imagining him blushing on the other side of the phone. Tapping away on your screen, you send him a reply. 

You: Oh you know it 😉

You: Thank you for making sure I got home by the way, I appreciate it. 

Eddie: I should’ve known. Glad you got home in one piece. 

Eddie: Night, sugar. See you Sunday 🖤

Fuck a text, you were going to send Luke a thank you card and maybe some chocolate.

I hope you guys liked this! I can't wait to continue this week with all of you! See you all tomorrow with the next fic :)

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[sexy-monster-fucker]

Unwinding

Dr. Lawrence Gordon x Apprentice!Reader NSFW

Prompt: Lawrence wants to keep reader safe after tagging along on one of their missions. Giving her a hotel card for them to meet up after everything is done.

CW: nipple play, p in v, creampie,

a/n: I CRAVE more Lawrence in the new Saw movie, I need him back. I need MORE apprentice Larry!!! PLEASE TWISTED PICTURES HEAR MY PLEES!!!!!!!!! anywho- I dont hype him up often on here, but when I originally watched the movies as a preteen I loved Larry so much he was one of my favorite characters but it made me mad he cheated on his wife. now I'm a chainshipper, weird how we change

~~~

Long day. What an understatement.

You had been instructed by John to scout out another victim he had hand picked. Tagging along with Amanda to discreetly kidnap them from their job. Lawrence had warned you about the security of the building. Offering to be the one driving the two of you to the site. Amanda wanted no part of Lawrence's involvement, but you did not mind it.

Lawrence had been a pivotal part of your adaptation and healing post game. Mending the injuries you had taken during your game. Calming you down from the persistent panic attack over taking your nerves as your hands were covered in blood. Body having some deep gashes and hair stained dark with blood that you were not even sure was yours. Gloved hands flattening along your hair as he gently cleaned you up. Washing off your revealed body to make sure he could tend to all your wounds. Something rather intimate for someone you did not even know.

You had no idea surviving something so horrific would lead you into a new line of work. Being scouted in by the Jigsaw killer you heard about on the news. Finding some form of stability in your previously hectic life. Butting heads with some of your new colleagues, but never Lawrence. He had a soft spot for you. Taking care of you in anyway he could. Always agreeing with your ideas. Sending Mark and Amanda off to some of the more dangerous situations as to not put you in danger.

"I'm going with you, that's final," Lawrence put his foot down to Amanda. The three of you dressed in your black robes. Mark stood off in the distance tinkering with some gadget for a game that would occur later this week. Audibly rolling his eyes at the fight going on amongst you. John sat in the corner of the room taking in breath from his oxygen tank. Silently watching the two of them argue.

"What are you even going to be able to help with? Not like you can provide any muscle, cripple," Amanda hissed at him. Angry at him questioning her competence.

"Amanda, that'e enough," John finally intervened. His weak voice still powerful in pulling all your attention to him. Amanda's face contorted in confusion and frustration, "But-"

"I'm instructing the three of you to go together. You and Y/N can handle getting them, then Dr. Gordon can set the trap up," John coughed with his words. His statement being final say in what was going to happen. Lawrence had to fight the grin begging to creep upon his face. Amanda was speechless, storming off. Lawrence gave you a secret look with a smile. You blushed at his blue eyes.

You and Lawrence followed a distance behind Amanda towards the car. Silent in the long hallways other than the click of Dr. Gordon’s cane against the floor. You had a grueling night ahead of you. Amanda slammed the double doors open, Larry put his cane in front of you to stop you. Allowing the doors to shut before he spoke.

“I want you to be safe. You can handle getting them, I have no doubt about that. But I want you to go here while you wait for the trap to be set up,” he slipped you a room card for a nearby hotel, “You know just as well as I do, Amanda won’t let me do this alone. It’s dangerous for three of us to try and leave the location. I’ll meet you there when everything is done so we can get you out of there.”

You shyly nodded, stowing the card away in your tight back pocket. Blushing at the thought of sharing a hotel room with the doctor. Knowing you would not be staying there long. Fantasizes filled your mind.

…

The night has went accordingly. Capturing the person you were sent for, making sure to fill them with enough narcotic that they would not fight back. Departing from Amanda and Lawrence hesitantly after you got them shoved in the trunk.

You paced around the room of the dingy hotel. Somewhere you could stay without a trace. Leaving your robes and mask behind in the car. You worried for the two of them. They were not exactly the best team together. No where near as bad as Amanda and Mark, but still a lack of respect between them.

The knock he had told you would signal it was him made you jump out of your skin. Walking over and looking through the peephole, seeing Lawrence with disheveled hair from the mask he wore behind removed.

You unlocked the deadbolt. Allowing him to open the door on his own. His defeated figure painted the doorway. Limping inside the room. No words being spoken between you. He was clearly distressed. His cane clanked louder than before.

Larry sighed harshly as he sat on the edge of the bed. Laying back onto the old mattress. Cane propped against the edge of the mattress. Black cloak draping off his sides revealing his shirt underneath. Noticing how it was ever so slightly untucked. Your eyes fixated on the bit of bare tummy showing. Swirling around in your stomach with your infatuation for him.

"Did you get it all set up?" You broke the stiff silence in the room.

The doctor sighed again. Head tilting to look at you, "Not without Amanda telling me a million different ways to do it."

You smiled softly at him. Amanda believed she was John's favorite, often making her cocky. You knew better than anyone that Lawrence was John's true favorite. He was the one who made most of the traps and games possible. Having connections and abilities that far surpassed all of yours. You admired how he overcame so much.

"This was one of the most stressful weeks I've had since... well, you know," he gestured towards his amputated leg. A defeated chuckled escaped his lungs. Body sore and tired. Amanda forcing him to do most of the heavy lifting out of spite for him taking over the mission.

Your mind wandered. Eyes dancing down from his exposed skin to his groin. Imaging what he was hiding under his slacks. Thinking of taking a chance with him.

You walked over, standing directly in front of his flattened body. Watching his chest rise and fall with the breaths filling his lungs. Crawling onto his lap and straddling his hips. Lawrence's hands instinctively ran up your thighs, resting on your hips. Deep blue eyes meeting your lust blown ones.

"What is it, Y/N?"

Your hands ghosted up his body, resting against his shoulders. "I can help you relieve some stress, Doctor," you batted your lashes at him.

Lawrence's jaw tensed as he chuckled softly to himself. "And how exactly are you gonna do that, darling?"

He was agging you on. Clearly enjoying the closeness of your bodies. Your fingers traveled to his buttons, undoing them slowly down his chest. Once complete, your hands grazed up his torso kneading his soft flesh. Lips falling against his clavicle, kissing along his neck. Deep moans formed inside him. One of his hands tangled in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. Forcing your lips against his. Feverish kisses were exchanged between you. Lawrence’s tongue darting between your lips as he lapped into your mouth.

You began grinding your hips down on his groin. Feeling his semi-hard cock against your core. His sounds of enjoyment vibrated your lips. You ran your nails down his exposed torso. His hands tugged at your shirt, urging you to pull it over your head. You undressed your upper half for him. Throwing your shirt somewhere in the floor behind you. Hands reaching around to awkwardly undo the clasp of your bra. Exposing your bare breasts to him. His eyes fixated on your chest. Leaning forward and taking one of your nipples between his lips. Tongue flicking and sucking at the tender bulb. Pulling quick and squeaky moans from you. Jaw hanging open as you locked eyes with him. His mouth shifting over to the other to give them the same attention.

You sat straight up, scooting so that you could reach his belt and zipper. Staring at how his erection pressed firmly against the seem. Begging to be freed from its confides. Your nails clanged against the metal belt buckle. Slowly and sensually pulling down his zipper. Lawrence had himself propped up on his elbows making sure he could watch as you crawled back down into the floor, pulling his trousers down his legs with you. Tent pitched up in his boxer-briefs. The tip of his cock leaking precum darkening the soft fabric.

You removed your own bottoms, fully taking off your pants and underwear. Soaked core tingling against the cold air of the room. You rested your hands on his thighs, towering over him on the bed. Hand wrapping around his member through his underwear. Lawrence’s face contorted in pleasure as your hand wrapped and twisted around his shaft. “Yes— God— yes,” he chanted to you. You took your lip between your teeth, adoring all the grunts and moans coming from the man below you.

Deciding to mount him once more. Bare pussy resting against his thighs framing his cock. Deep blue eyes met yours as his jaw hung open.

“Can I fuck you, Doctor Gordon?”

“Fuck— please,” his soft eyes pleaded with you. Fingertips pulling the elastic down his legs, cock springing free. Bouncing slightly as is curved towards his stomach. Thick and swollen. Aching for some attention from you. You pumped it in your hand for a moment, thumb swirling around the leaking head. Moving to be grinding him between your slick folds. Moaning each time the head rubbed against your clit. Thick fingers dug into your hips as he moved along with your body. Chest harshly rising and falling with each hard breath he took in.

Your fingers wrapped around his base, lining him up with your entrance. Sinking down onto his girth. Stretching your walls and needing to adjust to his size. You squinted your eyes shut at the feeling of him, silently morphing your mouth into an O. Slowly hopping up and down to get yourself adjusted, finally feeling him slide all the way inside. Your hands gripped at his chest to balance.

“You’re so tight, dear,” Lawrence praised as his head fell back onto the mattress. Finding a rhythm that fit you. Lewd and sloppy sounds filled the room. Lost in the feeling of his thick cock filling you to the hilt. Tits bouncing around your chest as your smacked together.

Lawrence’s finger outlined your hips, sliding down to your sensitive nub. Circling it gentle but firm. Causing you to arch your back and call out to him. Panting his name as you grinded down quicker against him. “‘M gonna make you cum around my cock,” he panted. Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his torso, grazing down to his plush stomach. Soft hair dancing along the pads of your fingers.

One of his hands curved under your thigh, urging you to go higher. Lawrence’s eyes fixated on where the two of you met. How his cock was covered in your juices and how you looked taking him inside you. Helping you bounce up and down on him, fingers never ceasing their pace on your clit. A sexual coil wound up. Feeling your legs begin shaking when he would hit that perfect spot. The head of his cock pressing against that spongy place that had you seeing stars.

“You have the perfect cock, Doctor,” you whined. Throat tightening as you continued closer to your finish line. Lawrence smiled below you, tongue coming out to glaze his teeth.

“I could fuck you forever. Keep you all to myself. Make sure no one ever hurts you again,” Lawrence’s fingers danced along the scars on your stomach from your trap. Swearing with gritted teeth at the memory. Hands praised your figure. Promising to keep you close to him.

“I’m so close,” you huffed.

“I know, dear. I can feel you,” Lawrence smiled up at you. Eyes immediately falling back down to where he penetrated you. You were a few more swirls of fingers away from your end. Chest tingling with arousal.

“Can I cum inside you?” Lawrence asked, locking sincere blue eyes with yours. You nodded silently unable to form words. Lawrence began snapping his hips up into yours. Ruthlessly fucking you to your orgasm. Heat washed down your skin as you screamed a moan. Rutting your hips forward against his ever moving fingers. Cock nestled as deeply as possible, feeling your walls constrict around him. Loving the warmth of your climax coating his cock. Shortly starting fucking up into you again.

Your body spasmed as he thrusted into your sensitive core. Lawrence sputtered as he held you flush against his groin. Cock twitching and shooting sticky hot white all over your insides. Your pussy still in aftershock, practically milking every drop out of him. “You take it so well,” Lawrence mewled. Stretching his neck back as his fingers dug into your skin, begging to break it.

Both of you panting heavily. Savoring the afterglow. Large hands petted your skin. You rest forward keeping his softening length inside you. Your fronts completely pressed together. Lawrence kissed your head tenderly. Adoring the way you perfectly melted to his fronts. Both your bodies covered in sweat.

“You’ve definitely relieved some stress for me, love,” Lawrence joked. You smiled leaning up to kiss his lips.

“I owe you my life, Lawrence. I’d do anything to make you happy,” you softly spoke against his body.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading!! I love Larry and look forward to writing more for him. If you have any requests, please shoot them my way! //

{tags}

@iwmflbb ~ @toastnpretzels ~

[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy On Tumblr part 8

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

:) I think some of you guys are gonna like this one.

You'd been afraid working with Chilchuck would be difficult, if not impossible, but you soon settled into an easy rhythm with him. With the both of you working together, you could cover more ground. Soon you worked out an almost code to signal to each other, quiet warnings and quick clicks of the tongue. 

The traps were sporadic and sometimes difficult to find and prepare for. Sometimes they were triggered by movement, sometimes by pressure. You weren't sure if you would have been able to get through them all alone. 

The labyrinth changed around you as you moved, doors clicking into place or disappearing. Soon you'd been unwillingly shunted off what you'd thought was the main corridor into who knows where. 

Eventually you came to a dead end. Chilchuck huffed in exasperation. "Damnit I'll have to either find some way through this or we'll need to backtrack, which would lose us a lot of time."

"Well if it's going to be a minute until we can move on we might as well stop for a meal now." Senshi said cheerfully. 

He stopped and made a move to unpack. You held up a hand. "hold on! Let me check this area for traps." 

You quickly combed the area. Surprisingly, it was completely clean for about ten feet away from the dead end. Definitely enough to set up a quick camp site. 

Once finished, Senshi began happily unpacking and then slicing up the walking mushroom. You joined Chilchuck in poking around the walls for hidden passageways. 

"There's no traps right around here. Not for another ten feet back" You said. 

"Yup, that's why I'm thinking it's not actually a dead end. Something's gotta move"

You nodded, and continued combing over the wall, poking and prodding at the bricks. 

"That was a really dumb thing you did back there."

You glanced up, affronted. Did you somehow miss a trap? "What? What did I do?"

"You know what I mean!" Chilchuck quietly hissed. "Tackling Izutzumi! There was a solid chance that wouldn't have worked and you haven't built up nearly enough body mass for resurrection to work again! We could have resurrected Izutzumi, I don't know if we could have resurrected you. It's not our job to put ourselves in danger unnecessarily! It's not brave, it's just stupid." 

You bristled and hissed back. "It wasn't like I planned that! I saw someone in danger and reacted. If I'd stopped to make a thought out plan Izutzumi would have died, and I don't know if you noticed but she's not exactly over abundant in body mass herself."

"Yes but she has more than you do! We *have* to keep expectations consistent across all halffoot workers, that's how this works and how the union continues to function. Yeah maybe you're okay with putting your life at risk for a stupid fucking reason but no halffoot should be forced into that!" 

"I'm not part of the union." You shot back. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Izutzumi watching you with a bored expression. Ah. Cat ears.

You switched seamlessly into your native tongue, your voice rising a bit from anger. "When I went into the dungeon there were no regulations and you had to do whatever it took to prove you deserved to be here! Yeah we're both halffoots, but you're a man and you're tall for a halffoot, do you have any idea what it's like to be a tiny halffoot *woman* trying to get people to take her seriously? I learned how to fight and how to do stuff like that out of *necessity* because otherwise I would have been dropped by the wayside! And I don't have a contract with this party, and it might be nice to have another trap guy but they don't actually *need* me, and I'm telling you right now I will NOT be left behind and I WILL do WHATEVER it takes to be a part of this party. I don't give a shit about your fucking union. Let me take my own risks and stop treating me like a goddamn child, I have enough of that from the other races." 

You were half yelling by the end of that and your face was flushed and hot.  How dare he try and sit there and talk you through how halffoots were exploited like you hadn't gone through it too? Preaching on his fucking high horse. 

Chilchuck scowled, but he looked just slightly taken aback. He'd glanced at Izutzumi when you did and probably had picked up what you had, because he answered in the same language. "You don't have... Fuck you're right. I can probably negotiate one for you, you really don't have to do stuff like that just to be in this party. Why does it even matter to you so much? You don't need to stay here, you don't need to be doing this, we can just send you back. Marcilles all shy about it but they can learn the home spell from their book I bet. She picks stuff up real fast." 

You grit your teeth and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Tell me. ONE. personal fact. About yourself." 

He blinked, mouth hanging open before he snapped it shut. "What?" 

"I've heard Marcille referencing her school, Laois talks about his sister and a bit about his village, Senshi won't shut up about the stuff he's into, and Izutzumi is Izutzumi, but YOU don't share SHIT. so if you want ME to start sharing you better fucking open up too buddy."

"I- that's not- what- I keep my personal and professional life very separate!"

You grinned. "Then don't expect me to be any different." 

Chilchuck opened his mouth to retort, before shutting it again. Then he shrugged. "Yeah that's fair, keep your reasons to yourself, I'll negotiate you a contract anyway, just forms sake." 

You put your hand down, the wind a bit let out of your sails. You hadn't expected him to back down so easy and you felt oddly...disappointed. it'd been a bit since you'd had a really good knock down drag out argument. 

"Food is ready!" Senshi said "Come and eat while it's hot!" 

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[moonselune]

hiii it's revivify anon again (can I be 🐶anon?)

ahhhh your takes for the male companions reactions are so real!!

as a galemancer myself, I absolutely see him going the god route to bring them back. he's probably spin it as something like, "it was my ambition to bring you back. Therefore, i am allowed" (honestly, I could see him becoming so much darker if he brings back his fallen love. He'd probably keep them in a gilded cage of sorts. Always saying that he has their best interests at heart, that he's better and more reliable than all other gods. That no one, god or mortal, could love you better than him, so you should worship him just as much as he worships you... man... the potential.)

Thinking about astarion losing his love just hurts because like... they came and healed his heart only to shatter it all over again? If it was BEFORE the cazador fight, I think he'd definitely ascend himself. Why worry about losing your soul when you've already lost your heart? If it was after the cazador fight, I think he'd just kick himself for letting you convince him not to do it, and eventually circle back to the idea that he should've ascended. Maybe then, he could've saved you....

Oh, Wyll.... I get what you mean about not wanting to immediately go down that route of trading his soul to another Patron. I think if Mizora caught wind, she'd absolutely taunt him with it. Always hanging around like a bad smell, dangling the chance to bring his love back as long as he signs away his soul in a Pact eternal with her. I think as long as he had his friends around, he would be able to stand firm and remember that his lover would've shattered at the idea of him sacrificing himself. I'm not sure if I'm misreading his character or not, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't take another lover. He'd probably 1) blame himself for the loss of their life, and 2) think he isn't worthy of love again, and 3) probably love them until he dies tbh. He wouldn't want another lover, because they wouldn't be his lost love :'(

DARK HALSIN!!! Girl... your mind.... you are so onto something. I could totally see him going shadow druid tbh. He'd probably stop and be like, "you know what? Maybe they were right. Maybe I should've embraced the shadows. Maybe I still should..." or like, if people venture far enough into the woods, they might come across a corpse perfectly preserved as if theyre just sleeping, reeking of druidic magic. There's tons of plants surrounding the body. Some consider it a holy site, some consider it cursed. But all agree not to linger too long, lest the beast that guards it finds you...

CW: Dark Content

Of course 🐶 nonnie !

Oh my god yes yes yes yes, I have done a galemancy run and it was one of my favourites. The way this man would be like "I am doing nothing wrong" and there's just a pile of bodies behind him because he keeps messing up this necromancy spell that requires a sacrifice. Oh my lord and when it finally works and you are alive, back and well. He is overjoyed and is like my love! You have returned! Don't look at all the blood and bodies, just come this way my love! No the outside world will harm you, my love, just follow me! Look at this room it has all your favourites! Those windows have never opened my love, here's your favourite tea!

And he is NEVER going to let it go that he brought you back- ever. You are his masterpiece, the fruits of all his labor, the perfect embodiment of his ambition. He is your creator, you, the perfect creation. You belong to him. You will watch him ascend and you will take your place below beside him.

Resisting is pointless, you wouldn't want to go back to that cruel afterlife. Maybe if you are being particularly ungrateful, you would like a taste of what he rescued you from? Sending you into a spiral of nightmares until all you can do is cling to him in fear. He strokes your hair as you cry and murmurs how all he did was save you from this and you want to defy him? Hurt him by saying all those cruel words?

Well shit this is gonna end up as a fic isn't it?

YES, pre cazador, definitely would ascend and I can go see him going after people who look like you but as soon as they do/say something that is out of character for you, he just murders them. Justifying it by saying if you don't get to live, then neither do the poor imitations of you.

If he didn't ascend I reckon he would make a deal for him to get some sort of power, as you said, his heart died with you, what does he need a soul for? And then that takes us back to his ascended behaviour.

Oh baby boy Wyll, I agree, I do not think he would take another lover, but he would move on, I can see him becoming Grand Duke and shaping Baldur's Gate into a City that you would have survived in. He would name so many things after you, you liked books? He would build a library in your name? You always said you wanted kids or a big family, he builds an orphanage for you, telling the children stories of you. I think eventually as Wyll gets older and Mizora still tries to tempt him, he eventually enjoys her presence - as every time she tries to lure him into darkness, he can hear his beloved guiding him back to the light, and that he would never give up. Mizora is like wtaf, fine, you will never see me again, and then she's bored and shows up.

Dark Halsin !!! We love you !! He would have such a guilt complex about the shadow druids, how they were right etc. AND YES OMG you read my mind, parents warn their kids not to play too deep into the forest and for those wayward ones they come back, trembling with fear as they say how the beast roared and swiped its sharp paw at them. (Halsin would scare them away, I can never imagine him being violent with kids). But for those trying to prove their strength and valour by rescuing the beautiful maiden - they are never seen again.

Oooooo I cannot wait to sink my teeth into this!

[trashpanda66]

"Communicate"

(Pickle x gender neutral Reader) (SFW)

[So this is my first Baki fic and my first fic on Tumblr. I'm still really new to both of these so if anything is weird or messed up, please just explain how I can fix it. THERE WILL BE A PART TWO! Love y'all. @rottmntrulesall

Life is a very interesting thing, isn't it? You can think that you have everything all figured out, that there's nothing left in life or in this world that can surprise you or knock you off your game. But life always has a curveball hidden just behind the corner, waiting patiently for the day that you don't have your bat ready to swing. Unfortunately for you, you didn't have your eye on the ball today.

You had a lot of experience with animals of all kinds. You grew up in a forest in the countryside your whole life with your family, so encounters with animals happened quite often. From gators in your back yard that you'd give a good bath/scrub to before guiding them back into the swamps, to paying attention to the number of coyotes howling in the woods so you could know when the panthers came back through and cut the canines' numbers down. The herds of deer would just walk around with you when they were in the area, snakes would cuddle up to you for your warmth, and you had a few wild hawks that would come to you for food and comfort all the time. All of these things together made others think that you were some sort of animal tamer, that you could control all of nature's beasts with a wave of your hand and a command from your mouth. It was a cute idea, but it was entirely wrong. In your years growing up in the forest, you had learned how to communicate with the animals. "Look at the ground when you're around deer so they'll think you're a grazer like them, direct eye contact and/or bared teeth are a challenge to fight, a turned back is a prime opportunity to attack, and show any opponent your side to express that you can fight but would prefer not to." These were just some of the lessons you learned as you grew up, but it was the language of the animal world, and you were determined to learn it. Over time, you mastered this unspoken language and earned the respect of the wildlife around you. You didn't control the animals, you simply spoke to them in their language.

You were in Japan for a vacation, rather than work for once. You were enjoying your time there, going to different sites and experiencing the wonders of the land when you suddenly got a phone call. It was an unknown number, but your instincts told you to answer the phone rather than ignore it. With a sigh, you answered the phone call. You were called to Mitsunari Tokugawa's fighting ring to, in his words, "help take care of a wild animal". The man on the other end of the line refused to explain any further than that, instead just repeating "I promise to pay you plenty for your help if you come as soon as possible".

And that's how you ended up here, in an illegal fighting ring, staring directly at a fight between an 8 foot tall caveman and some new upcoming fighter who wanted to test his mettle against the dinosaur killer. You felt a tug on the side of your jacket, causing you to look to the elderly man who called you here in the first place. Tokugawa had a solemn look on his face as he finally elaborated on why you were here.

"His name is Pickle. The main problem is that he keeps eating the fighters who lose to him." His eyes shine with hesitation and fear, as if he's concerned that you'll run off without helping once he finishes explaining everything. His tired old eyes drift back to the arena, catching sight of Pickle as he gives an open palm slap to his opponent and sends the young fighter flying out of the arena. He swallowed down a lump in his throat before continuing.

"I need you to go down there and stop Pickle from eating that fighter in there. I've watched him tear apart some of the world's best fighters, all of them being men that I admired greatly! It's because of him that some of my favorite fighters can no longer return to this ring and others had to give up fighting completely. For now, all I need is that you make sure that fighter in there goes back home mostly intact." The small old man shakes as he talks, seemingly convinced that you're going to escape the moment you get a chance. I mean, who wouldn't? He was sending you into a situation where you could lose parts of your body at best, and your life at worst. But you didn't respond. You stared into the arena, your eyes following every move made by the gigantic ancient human. You could see it in the way his muscles flexed and relaxed, the way his eyes opened and closed lazily, and in the way his facial muscles were mostly lax. You could see it clearly where no one else could.

Pickle wasn't taking this fight seriously. While the young fighter was pouring every ounce of his strength into this match, the caveman had yet to even go halfway. Like a wolf playing with a pup, Pickle was handicapping himself just to give his opponent confidence. The caveman didn't want the game to end anytime soon, but the young fighter was growing more and more weary with each passing second. You were in no rush to get to the bottom of the pit because as far as you could see, Pickle was more than happy to play with and not hurt the smaller fighter. As you neared the entrance of the arena, you caught sight of something that sent you straight into action.

In a foolish attempt to gain victory, the young fighter took aim for Pickle's family jewels. The hit landed, causing Pickle to scream and hiss in pain before backing away from the fighter. Said fighter was staggering around on his own feet, exhaustion and fatigue taking over his entire body as he struggled to simply stay awake. And then you both heard it.

A growl. Then you saw it.

Pickle was on all fours, his entire body lifted up and tense, ready to pounce. Pickle wasn't playing anymore.

You sprinted into the arena, throwing caution to the wind as you jumped in front of the caveman. You turned your back to the massive fighter, baring your teeth and shrieking at the smaller fighter. You lifted your arms and opened your stance, making yourself appear bigger to both men. While the young fighter was confused and dazed by your display, Pickle understood.

You, despite being even smaller and weaker than either of the fighters in the pit, were siding with Pickle against his opponent. Even better, you trusted the prehistoric man to not attack you while you were distracted, a trust which is not lightly given in nature. You were protecting the warrior, you were fighting for the fighter, and your actions did not go unnoticed. Suddenly you leapt forward towards the weary fighter, wrapping your small hands around his head before knocking him to the ground. You didn't give him a chance to speak before you ordered him to go limp and close his eyes. It wasn't difficult for the exhausted brawler to obey your words, passing out at just the right time. Hurriedly you rolled the both of you over on the ground, making it appear as if the younger fighter had gained the upper hand in his "altercation" with you. It was entirely accidental on your part, you had just meant to get the unconscious fighter into a better position where you could sling him closer to the exit of the arena, but you didn't get a chance. Suddenly Pickle was standing over the both of you, his hand outstretched behind himself as his whole body twisted into delivering a bone shattering slap to the exposed fighter. You started struggling underneath the younger fighter who was much heavier than he looked to get the caveman's attention and stop him from delivering his final blow, but Pickle saw your struggle as the last efforts of a warrior who will lose the fight against their opponent, furthering him into putting as much force as he could behind his strike.

If there is communication, then there must be miscommunication as well.

The caveman's hand connected with the ribs of the knocked out fighter, sending his unconscious body rag dolling across the arena and into the stands. Welp. At least the young fighter is no longer in the ring. You start to calm down, your eyes fluttering shut slowly as the adrenaline starts to wear off. It was somewhat peaceful, the bright lights were almost good enough to mimic the warmth of the sun as your own fatigue started to catch up to you. It was almost perfect napping conditions. And then you felt a slightly leathery hand cup your cheek softly, which was then followed by a mildly damp nose pressing gently against your forehead, blowing out soft puffs of hot air against your hairline. Your eyes fly back open, expecting to witness horrid fangs the moment before they're buried in your flesh, but instead you're met with a curious sight.

Bright meukow cognac colored eyes peer down at you from behind long, greasy black hair. The giant man is peering down at you, his head blocking the intense lights and giving him a shimmering halo. The caveman's massive hand was gently cradling your face, angling your head towards his and allowing him to check you over for injuries. As far as he knew, you had just taken on a challenger who was strong enough to actually hurt him, and had he not interfered when he did, you would have become the young fighter's next meal. Pickle's eyes filled with tears, his admiration of you flowing from his brandy eyes and dripping onto your face. You knew you couldn't win against the caveman's opponent, yet you still protected him. But there was another reason for Pickle's tears, one that you recognized almost too well.

Pickle doesn't respect anything that can't fight. Pickle doesn't befriend anything that can't fight. But if his opponent can actually put up a good fight, Pickle will bond with them. He'll see them as a companion, an equal, someone worth being in a pack with. But there's one problem; the nature of his time demanded that he eat anything he defeated. Even if he befriended his opponent, even if he loved them with his whole heart, he had to defeat them, and he had to eat them. Because if he didn't, then he'd be the one being consumed. It was eat or be eaten, kill or be killed, and Pickle was determined to survive. No matter how much he loved his enemy, he'd only have that one battle with them, that one bonding moment with them before he had to kill them.

Until you strolled into the arena. You proved your strength by taking on the fighter who managed to injure Pickle, earning the caveman's respect without having to fight him yourself. Pickle didn't have to eat you, because you didn't lose to him! You could be his first companion! The first member of his pack! Finally. Finally Pickle wouldn't have to be alone anymore!

But Pickle could be happy about his new potential pack member later. For now, he needed to finish checking you over for injuries.

You couldn't help the nervous giggle that escaped your lips as the giant caveman skirted his massive hands over your entire body, pressing his nose to anything extra sensitive and sniffing. You let him pick you up and move your joints carefully, testing the ranges of your body just in case anything got hurt in the scuffle. So far, it seemed everything was alright! No injuries accounted for, no discomfort from you, so everything was going great! Pretty soon, the caveman would let you go and you'd probably be free to return to your vacation. Once Pickle was certain that you hadn't been injured in your supposed "fight", he set you down gently on the ground in front of him, gauging your reaction to his presence. You sat in front of him cross legged, your eyes half open as you leaned back and exposed your torso to him. You were telling him you trust him. Pickle immediately began to reciprocate your trust, exposing his neck to you as he used his hands to scuttle closer. Once he's deemed himself close enough to you, he begins to lean forward. You could sense that you were safe with him, that if he wanted you gone, he would have handled that himself long ago. As such, you began to lean forward as well.

Pickle placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and taking in a shuddering breath. You had to physically stop yourself from gagging at the stench emanating from the giant man, but you closed your eyes and bit your tongue, letting the prehistoric man continue his little bonding ritual. You felt that same massive leathery hand rest against the side of your face once more, though this time he wasn't attempting to move your head. He was just holding you gently, seemingly waiting for you to do something. With an internal sigh, you begin to lift your hand to hold the side of his massive face. The only thought that went through your mind before your small hand touched his dirty skin was 'I hope this isn't some kind of mating ritual'. The moment your hand made contact with his face, Pickle's eyes flew open. Upon seeing that your eyes were still closed, he gently tapped your face. Your eyes opened and met with his once more, the two of you sitting in a position that makes you almost look like lovers. Slowly, his massive hand drifted down from your face, causing you to mirror him and sink your hand lower than his face. Once his hand stopped on your shoulder, you placed yours on his big shoulder, never once breaking eye contact. Pickle smiled to you, showing his fangs before hiding them slowly, so you reciprocated. Finally Pickle pulled his head away from yours, sitting up a bit straighter in front of you. He closed his eyes happily before making a little chuffing noise at you, to which you giggled and finally spoke to the caveman. Though your sentence was in the language of the modern humans, Pickle understood your words.

"Hello there, Pickle. I'm glad we're friends now."

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Been thinking lately about the farmer like, stopping the corruption and the Adventurers having an absolute crisis about what to do now that they don't need to fight off monsters. I think Lance and the First Slash will be fine because they can focus on exploration, but Isaac and the other Caslte Village Adventurers probably wouldn't know what to do with themselves.

Mm, yes and no. Depends on which adventurers we're talking about. You're right, The First Slash Clan, and the Adventurer's Guild won't feel the difference too much since their area is still full of monsters that haven't been touched by corruption. They will instead take comfort in knowing that dark magic will no longer spread further. The people of Galdora continent... Hmm, there could be two scenarios here.

On the one hand, the adventurers of Castle Village will always have something to do, just like The First Slash Clan. Monsters and secrets are everywhere, it's just that the same Isaac and Alesia will have to go further to do their jobs (which the scarred monster hunter will sometimes complain about, but it's nothing that totems and magic can't help with). He and Alesia (at least) are professionals, and such people will always be in demand. I'm sure the Galdora continent holds many treasures that were previously inaccessible due to dark corruption. Camilla, through her gift and talents, will smell another source of magic/artifact/treasure sites, and with a wave of her hand will send adventurers and mages out to retrieve what may be of use to the entire Village.

So the town will continue to live and earn its bread, just adapting to the fact that dark magic is no longer behind the barrier. Farmer's deeds will not harm their lives (on the contrary, the young adventurer from Stardew Valley will be considered a hero in the Castle Village like Marlon!).

On the other hand... Farmer did dramatically change the way of life for wizards and adventurers, and they did it even before Castle Village was mentioned. In Marlon's 4 ❤️ event, our teacher and the head of the Guild said that he and the young adventurers from The First Slash (or was it the Castle Village? I forgot...) went to the Mines to find monsters there and test the skills of the newcomers. But it didn't work out, because "imagine their disappointment when they found out that the Mines were almost completely empty.". Farmer has already managed to reduce the number of Slimes, Golems, Shadow people, etc. by half in a couple of seasons, and that's not the limit yet. Now the other Guilds need a new place with not too strong monsters to teach the youngsters how to fight...

If we mention our raids in Crimson Baldlans, Farmer will kill so many mummies and serpents, collect so many artifacts and treasures that will deprive the source of income of many residents of Castle Village. And this is their livelihood and way of living, Farmer destroys monsters not really for money, but for the idea/task/just because they can.

If Farmer has somehow wiped out the corruption in Crimson Baldlans altogether, the local Guild will fall into a temporary crisis. Orders and contracts are gone, loot from monsters can no longer be collected because they simply don't exist, ingredients for elixirs are already hard to get.... Especially those who have devoted their lives solely to the study of corrupted magic will feel the blow. The village will adapt, but again, it won't be immediate and many will already be surviving rather than living. Ironically, the hero under Marlon's wing brought both salvation and trouble.

This, incidentally, ties in with one of my favourite headcanons, that Isaac and some of the other adventurers dislike (and some outright hate) the Farmer for taking jobs away from half the inhabitants. And okay, if they were totally a monster hunter, but they have their own farm, rich in fertile soil, livestock, and multiple sources of income in the mine and Skull Cavern. But noooo, they've gone to Crimson Baldlans and started "helping out" here too. And I like to think that Farmer is so good at completing quests that some adventurers hide tasks, or even chase Farmer away from the notice board. Dick move, but it is what it is. Camilla notices this, but instead of scolding her subordinates for being rude, she gives Farmer some rather difficult tasks. The witch will find an alternative, because although the hatred for Farmer is undeserved, there is some truth in the Castle Village Guildmaster's words - Farmer has really... affected the local economy.

[preciousmomentsfigurine]

hey, is anyone still here? looks like the last time i was on here was two years ago and change. things are really different now, but i guess then again it would be weird if they were the same

i was thinking of returning to this dead site because for a good fifteen years it was a big part of my life and provided me with a unique way to express my thoughts and ideas and feelings and opinions and musings to an audience of people who can hear me but not truly know me outside of my words that i share on this platform. and on the same coin i enjoy following the lives of people i know nothing about and watching their stories and selves develop and evolve from a complete distance in every sense

i'm five months sober now

i have a hard time pinpointing when exactly i became an alcoholic, but i guess i could say i dealt with it in some degree for about eight years, and progressively, as it always goes

i graduated with my masters last may (2023) in critical media studies where i spent my time writing and researching feminist cultural social and media theory. i produced a great deal of work i was and am very proud of including a thesis that is honestly my life and heart's work but unfortunately over the course of those two years my drinking escalated rapidly and by the end i was manically and drunkenly banging out papers and essays in the dead of night sleepless and naively inspired

somehow i got a 4.0 though despite that. everyone in my life always says i played off my drinking well anyway. beats me how or why

once i graduated i practically immediately began drinking all day every day while somewhat-hardly-kind-of-not-really looking for work which was fruitless and i quickly learned my degree i worked so hard for meant practically nothing to employers who were merely looking for experience i dont have outside of my teaching background in grad school

for almost exactly a year i was drunk 100% of the time i was awake

same old story, at some point i switched to bottom shelf pints of vodka, which constituted my breakfast lunch and dinner. sat on my couch in my filthy apartment occupying my filthy poisoned failing body either watching tv or causing problems somehow

this was when i was twenty-nine. for a while now i had known in my heart of hearts i wasnt someone who would ever be able to handle my liquor or drink like a normal person, whatever that means, and that too much was never enough, and that it was literally impossible to function so long as booze was a part of my life. any attempts to "cut back" or "take breaks", i knew, would end the same way, which was waking up to shots of room temperature vodka and being a prisoner to the worst shame a person can feel

i figured once i turned thirty, which was this march, that would probably be about the time i got sick of my own shit and said goodbye to the bottle. which i undeniably felt a kind of affection toward as if it were a lover. still do in a sense and thats why ill never flirt with it again

my sobriety date is april 16th 2024. my last drink was a shot of vodka at 8:30 am on the 15th after creating massive gashes in my upper arm the previous evening during a blackout fight with my boyfriend

im still unemployed and extremely mentally ill and my bipolar has gotten progressively worse over the past couple of years and will likely continue to according to what the science says and all of that. after my last manic episode last month i adjusted my meds (again) and for now they seem to be working but i don't hold my breath really

i do AA and i like it a lot, i do it my own way, i have a sponsor who approaches the program liberally and progressively and shares many of my comorbidities and has allowed me the freedom to define my relationship to the program and god in a way that works for me and i have made incredible strides through this. i have become a far far far better person.

being sober is easy and i never want to drink. not once not ever

ive never worked so hard on myself in my life because i got as close to death as i ever had and ive been very close at many points in my life for many years. when i was drinking i knew i wouldnt make it to see 35 if i continued as i was

therapy, AA, meds, a whole fucking lot of discipline

ive been with my boyfriend for two years and wed like to get married. thats nothing that will happen anytime soon but it is nice to think about. he has been by my side through unimaginable things that any sane person would not have stuck around for. he is my heart and my soul

im also trying to start applying for jobs again but im genuinely on the fence if i am capable of holding a full time job due to my severe mental illness. im exploring a bunch of options right now as far as that whole thing goes. the future is very uncertain as always

let me know if you see this or remember me or anything.

bye for now

[bloomeng]

Every day you log into this site and fight for your life to defend your choices 😭😂 so I just want you to know I adore your style and deep thought processes when approaching AUs! I'm a big fan of you as a whole :) And I love to see what you come up with, it's always really cool to see! Especially when you tell us how your thoughts unfolded into your concrete ideas, I find that stuff really cool!! 💖

I think it might be because I yap so much people take it as an invitation to correct me but honestly idk.

Again I think most of the time people mean well but fail to consider that as I’ve worked on these pieces I’ve sat with them for hours and thus have probably considered their suggestions and I simply disagree. And yknow what I do get it bc I see au’s— mlp or otherwise— that I disagree with all the time but I’ve learned that it’s best to keep my opinions to myself because at the end of the day so long as it isn’t offensive it’s not hurting anyone.

And sure people do suggest things that I like so I don’t want to cut it off completely, because I want to hear people’s ideas so long as they’re polite and understand I’m not obligated to use it. In fact I’m a big fan of creating things yourself. Even if you think you think you’re a bad writer or artist do it anyway because it’s fun and maybe you’ll get better along the way. I guess my rule of thumb is sorta like��. if your suggestion has me redoing the piece altogether maybe consider that it’s not a suggestion it’s a correction. I work by improv rules “yes and” not “no.” And if my choices still make you that upset you can comment but it’ll probably be a moot point.

I’m glad you enjoy my work and yapping so much. I find it very fun. I will say that most people are very nice and even the ones who correct me, I don’t think they’re trying to be mean. I love that I can talk at length and people are interested enough to listen. So thanks for being so kind and gracious and for being interested. It really means a lot to me.

[thaisibir]

Faith, Science, and Lessons to Learn in Claymore

Here come my thoughts I've articulated the best I could on why I absolutely love Claymore for over ten years. I love how faith and science are represented and explored in this series, especially how they are not only compared side by side but brought together. And I don't exaggerate when I say this series had taught me valuable life lessons and how to be a better person.

Faith vs science: Rabona represents the institution of faith. The organization is an institution of science. As Claymore is a story centered on, of course, the Claymores, and the world as they know it, we see a lot more than the institution of faith how the institution of science operates. And it's a very cruel, brutal operation. Girls are salvaged and trafficked to be subject to experimentation and training, conditioned to think and work like cogs in a machine. Their entire lives revolve around constant, endless missions of killing yoma. All the while they're fighting against their own inhuman side. They're ticking time bombs destined for nothing but a violent death. It's a vicious cycle. A system set up to doom them from the start.

I have to mention how incredibly disgusting and clever the psychology behind the organization's system is. 47 Claymores are deployed and scattered throughout the continent at all times, but few ever come across one another. I'm sure that after training, most full-fledged warriors go through their entire careers without ever meeting another of their own. The few times they meet up are strictly for missions only. No time for real bonding and fraternizing. In fact, it seems to be discouraged and deliberate. And there is no care or effort whatsoever put into fostering friendly relations between Claymores and the common folk. They have no home, no family, not even friends, no autonomy, only complete dependence on the organization. Not unlike a toxic relationship where the victim has no choice but to be shackled to the abusive partner. That's exactly how the organization wants it to be. They want their subjects to be powerful, dependable, but expendable and replaceable at the drop of a hat. The lonely and isolated lifestyle imposed on Claymores, along with the rules, keep them in line. Keep them apart and they would never get a whiff of the skeleton in the organization's closet and entertain the idea of rebelling. We all know that didn't last forever. (More on that in a later section...)

All right I think I've been beating a dead horse talking about how horrible the organization is. In contrast to their operations involving exploitation, dissection, and separation of Claymores, Rabona is the site of their unity and humanization.

Rabona is the pivoting point for bringing together a Claymore and three humans in their efforts to take down a yoma. It's where we learn that bonds are stronger than the carnal desire to awaken and feast on guts. Years later, it's also in Rabona where the same cooperation happens. Just on a much greater scale. Humans and Claymores collectively learned to fight alongside each other. Irene proved that it's possible to survive outside the organization. Galatea took it a step further, being the first to show that it's possible for a warrior to live happily among humans, albeit in secret. By the end, an era of a truly peaceful coexistence begins. It's a beautiful irony that the city well known for its spirituality, image of holiness, and rejection of the "unholy" becomes the first place to openly welcome Claymores.

The organization topples and falls apart from a single decisive strike. Meanwhile, despite multiple assaults from powerful Awakened Beings, Rabona still stands. And I'm sure it will continue to endure and flourish with the Claymores as its new resident defenders. An institution built on fear and blind obedience is much weaker than one built on the warriors' true sense of allegiance, belonging, and home.

That is not to say that science is all bad in Claymore. After all, surgery is what physically brought Teresa and Clare together.

Father Vincent: I need to talk about this man and how vastly underrated he is. In a story full of incredibly strong and kickass half-monster women, Vincent is not only one of the few ordinary men in the cast, but the best of them morally speaking (second to Raki). That scene of Vincent with Galatea, Clarice, and Miata made him my favorite male character in the series. He had come a long way since his first appearance. Even then, he had come around from a position of prejudice and his city's idea of holy vs unholy to acceptance and gratitude for Clare. His brief sharing with Galatea of that turning point shows incredible self-awareness and introspection, a mindset we should all strive to have. Then, as the head priest of the religious order entrenched in Rabona, he initiates that change at the greater societal level, turning Rabona into a sanctuary that welcomes all Claymores. I especially love that panel where he raises a hand of blessing to Galatea and says he wants to pray "for her and her wonderful companions." I found that incredibly touching. Those words must mean the world to Galatea, and to any Claymore if they heard. After all, they're so used to being dehumanized and reviled. Vincent is the perfect foil to the terrible men of the organization, second to Raki when it comes to showing empathy and compassion to Claymores and regarding them as more human than monster. Vincent sets a great example of what it means to be a decent human being, and just what it means to be human, to be capable of growth and change for the better. I'm sure we all want to be badass like the Claymores, but really we must try to be the Father Vincent in people's lives. You don't need yoma power to be an agent for good and change.

The measurable versus the immeasurable: In this world where only the strong survive, power and rank is everything. Or so it seems. Like I mentioned earlier, the organization is insidiously clever in using a ranking system to define the Claymores and keep them in line. Claymores have very few possessions to call their own: the emblem and armor they wear, the sword they wield, and the number they're given. Numbers are what separate and define them, what seem to give them identity, worth, and purpose. Enter Clare, the series protagonist, who flips a giant middle finger at all that. Unlike some Claymores who obsess over numbers (lookin' at you, pre-timeskip Helen), Clare doesn't let her low rank define or upset her. Mathematically and rationally speaking, with the flesh of a half yoma warrior, she's only a quarter yoma, therefore half the strength of a typical Claymore and the weakest of them all. Clare gives that rationale the middle finger too. What keeps her alive from beginning to end is her limitless, immeasurable, astounding courage and endurance that impressed Teresa from the beginning. And there's her great capacity to love and care for others. Love forged those strong, lasting bonds with Teresa and Raki. The lengths she went to save Jean inspired a loyalty like no other, and what leads to one of my favorite quotes in the series: "She saved my life. Her rank meant nothing then and it means even less to me now."

The Seven Ghosts embody true sisterhood allowed to flourish outside the confines and prying eyes of the organization. Living, hiding, and training together, sharing survivors' guilt from that massacre in Pieta, they are fueled by a drive that's far greater and more enduring than mere petty competition for ranks within the organization. They don't fight just to survive, but to honor the memory of their fallen comrades. Years later, those old ranks they were given mean nothing. The Ghosts become more than that, undefinable, and for all their strengths and weaknesses they come to regard each other as equals, as true friends and sisters ought to.

And finally, the most powerful manifestation of love is none other than Teresa and Clare, the twin goddesses who defeat the one horned monster. The organization had tried and failed many times to replicate that perfect synergy. They left out one important part of the equation. Clare and Teresa's love for each other makes their union a truly powerful thing that defies the limits and bounds of numbers and stats. Many times throughout the series, especially by men from the organization, it's brought up that Clare's true abilities and potential don't align with the number she was given. She's truly a wild card, defiant in the face of obeying the organization's rules and rationalities. It's human nature to assign numbers and ranks to things because we like to compartmentalize, but the real world is a lot messier than that. Clare is there to teach us that we are not defined by the numbers we earn or are given.

All of this is to say that the most important lesson I took away from Claymore is this: it's what you do for others that truly counts, not what others think of you. Love and compassion is enough to move the most powerful being in the entire series to tears.

[queen0fm0nsterz]

I was thinking about the old LN1 character bios and remembered the line about the Twins being "born to be chefs". Assuming their not native to Nowhere, this would mean they had some violent tendencies before becoming residents, like it was their destiny.

This then made think about the end of tson ep 3 where Otto says the something like "Our world isn't the only world, let alone the predominant one".

All this made me realize that the worlds other than Nowhere may have been created by it (The Nowhere is implied to be sentient in it's own right) specifically to create concepts and injustices that could be used to warp and traumatize children, turning them into visitors and then into residents.

Thoughts?

Alright so this is a great question that I think leads to a much larger discussion about how the Nowhere operates. I would like to hear what other peeps think as well.

So, starting from the Chefs. Personally I always assumed that they are part of that group of characters who are from the Nowhere because of the way their description is worded (and also their baby pictures... this one is so cute lowkey...)

--- But following your train of thought: considering what we know of the Nowhere, it seems to amplify certain characteristics of a person, usually the bad ones. Two kids who are a bit propense to get into fights in the waking world may very well become blood thirsty maniacs in the Nowhere.

Interestingly, the modification of traits does not only apply to personality but also the body -- and usually, the physical changes are in relation back to said traits. For example, the Teacher - someone who is known to be controlling - can extend her neck infinitely to look everywhere and have the ability to blink removed to make sure she's always watching. The Doctor, a perfectionist with tons of authority, is always looking down on people while also growing enormous to match his ego. So on and so forth, you can follow this reasoning for a large number of the Residents we meet.

I think other timelines derivating from the Nowhere is definitely a possibility, as we don't know much of how the universes work there.

The general theory of a multiverse irl is that no timeline has any specific weight or importance over others; they are all parallel no matter how different, with no timeline being "the real one". This is if we view the Nowhere under the lens of it being a separate dimension. In TSON, the Nowhere is kind of implied to be sucking the people most vulnerable to it right in, so perhaps the idea Otto has of it the predominant world stems from the fact that he can't explain his fascination with it... or from a real, genuine desire to somehow "return" to the original land, if that's where the other timelines originated from.

HOWEVER, I would like to offer an alternative perspective on this --- based on what I found out during my research on the Ladies. Yup we're going there again

Rather than the characters themselves, this time I'm going to refer to a symbolism that is very prominent in their lore: Buddhism. More specifically the references to the six planes of existance, and how those can be tied back to Little Nights in a loose way. As stated in this site:

" The six realms of rebirth are a schema in which beings are reborn according to the kind of life they lived. [...] The animal realm, in which inhabitants are driven by basic needs, is one of the three “lower” realms. The other two are the hell realm, a place of constant suffering and torment, and the realm of the hungry ghosts, grasping beings who are never satisfied. The three “higher” realms are the human realm [...] the demigod realm [...] and the god realm, where beings enjoy a life of pleasure. It’s important to note that some Buddhists view the realms as literally real, while others interpret them psychologically as metaphors for the emotional states of the human condition. "

(Click on the link to read the whole thing; I only highlighted the parts I think are relevant to this conversation :] )

What I believe specifically relates back to the Nowhere are the three lower realms, from which the place itself may be loosely inspired by because of how its inhabitants are described.

All of these are things we see in Little Nights from various Residents, depending on the social class and place. It is important to note that while these realms are placed in different hierarchies due to quality of life, they all cohexist together without necessarily being more important than each other as they all have the same purpose in the end.

If the worlds of Little Nights operate in a similar way, then what we're looking at is not really a case of dimension hopping, but rather a passage from a plane of existance to the next. A forced one at that, at least in the case of Noone.

Now, considering Otto's assumption, the idea of the Nowhere being a predominant realm only popped up because he was trying to wrap his head around it and how Noone felt, but to tell you the truth, it is a rather baseless assumption considering he's never been there and is only experiencing it in a very limited way. However... considering how many children from different places in time and space have experienced the Nowhere, sometimes even simultaneously, I wouldn't say that it's completely wrong to assume that the place might be the "original plane of existance".

Now. Reflecting on what you said at the very end, I would like to ask a question back: do you think the Nowhere is, hypothetically, only capable of bringing out the worst in people inherently? Or is it only acting this way because humanity itself is more easily conditioned to fall victim to their bad traits?

I've been recently thinking about it because of the Maw. The writer of Little Nightmares, Mr. Mervik, has stated multiple times over the years that the place has not always been the way that it is; at the same time, he also said that it was not man made, but rather created by collective hunger/desire to be fed. These two things don't make sense together unless you assume the Maw was not originally born for the Guests and the whole cannibal business, but rather from a desire of shelter. A need to be fed. Which is not inherently a bad thing -- and it would explain why the structure itself is so largely built to house so many people, and why children still feel relatively safe in it to this day.

So I find myself thinking that perhaps, the Maw degenerated overtime because the people inside of it (cough its leaders cough) did. And if this is the case for the Maw, who's to say it's not the same for other places? The Nest, for example? The School, the Hospital... etc. But. It is also true that the creatures who inhabit the Nowhere (the Ferryman, the North Wind, the Flesh...) all seem to have their own interests and destructive amusement more at heart than anything. If these creatures are what move the large of the Nowhere (which I guess they are considering the eye symbol is all over the goddman place), then the human will can't really do much.

That being said, I am wondering currently if it could be possible for the Nowhere to bring out something good from a person in the right situation. At the same time, the hopes are incredibly slim. Nonexistent, actually, but it's nice to think about hypothetics.

[sk8erboi04]

Achilles Come Down is Regulus coded and I can PROVE IT!!

Okay so I have literally never posted anything on the site, I literally just exist as a ghost that likes silly funny things, but I have been inspired so severely and I physically can’t not say something.

Picture this.

I was driving my car, minding my own business and absolutely vibing, when all of a sudden a song auto-plays that I haven’t heard in like, three years.

‘Achilles Come Down’ by the band ‘Gang of Youths’ hit me like an emotional truck, and outside of how beautiful that song is on its own (literally if you haven’t heard where have you been go listen to it NOW) that silly little fandom worm we all know wiggled its way into my brain and gave me the most violent fanon idea I’ve ever had.

*Ahem*In this essay, I will explain how ‘Achilles Come Down’ is a perfect representation of Regulus Black and his relationships with Sirius, James, and his parents, as well as his inner turmoil as a character.

Okay, so to start, we are running on the idea that James and Regulus have or at least had a relationship in some capacity. I will accept one-sided feelings on James’ part, mutual feelings but never official, or officially together for any stretch of time. If you are not a Jegulus shipper, your mom’s a hoe, but you can enjoy the familial aspects at least, so there you go.

Beginning with the song as a whole, there are three voices we hear singing at different moments throughout the song, each with their own intention and influence on the song’s subject. Within the song's narrative, we listen as Patroclus tries to inspire Achilles to fight for his own life and push through his hardships, while Hector tries to poison Achilles' mind with self-doubt and despair.

As I mentioned though, there is a third voice that appears throughout the song that speaks French in the time between the characters fighting over Achilles’ well-being and the chorus. This character’s identity is unknown as far as I can tell, but his narration is far more metaphorical regardless and we’re not gonna get into that until later(though each instance will be numbered for later reference), in the meantime, we can move on to the lyrics and how this is so incredible Regulus coded and how I KNOW I’m right.

The song starts with the opening lines:

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down - Won't you get up off, get up off the roof? - You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you - Achilles, it's not much but there's proof - You crazy-assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue - Redemption lies plainly in truth - Just humor us, Achilles, Achilles, come down - Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

Now this first stanza reads to me as an emotional James, trying to convince Regulus that there is still time to join him and Sirius and the other marauders and to get away from his parents/Voldemort. Perhaps at this time, Regulus is feeling like it’s too late, maybe he already has the dark mark, but James is begging him to understand that it’s okay, and he still has time to make the right decision.

After a few lines in French (1) from our third voice, the original voice continues:

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down - Won't you get up off, get up off the roof? - The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken - Remember the pact of our youth - Where you go, I'm going, so jump and I'm jumping - Since there is no me without you - Soldier on, Achilles, Achilles, come down - Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

At this point, I still believe this is James, becoming even more desperate to save Regulus and bringing up their time at Hogwarts and the relationship they had at that time. Now, I personally believe they would still be together in the context of the song, but it works from multiple angles, playing at possibly a past relationship that’s now over but still treasured, or a one-sided thing for James where he’s still trying to reach Regulus in a way he never could. Regardless, this is James’ hail-mary, saying if you do this, you will leave me empty; an attempt at reaching Regulus emotionally, even if that means threatening his own well-being.

From here we move on to the chorus:

Loathe the way they light candles in Rome - But love the sweet air of the votives - Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone - Engage with the pain as a motive

Today, of all days, see - How the most dangerous thing is to love - How you will heal and you'll rise above

Now this is clearly James and Sirius (and whoever else you want on the side of goodness) reaching out to Regulus, but the first half gets a little tricky. I’ve taken it to mean Regulus loathes the way they do things with the order of the phoenix and Dumbledore, but loves the grace, safety, and love they show. (this is related to hating what Rome is doing ((lighting the candles)) but loving the results ((the sweet smell))) They call out to him saying “you will hurt to leave what you know, and you will be afraid but you don’t have to be alone in this. We are fighting because of the pain they have caused you and everyone else.”

The second half of the chorus is much simpler, speaking to how literally the WHOLE THING in ‘Harry Potter’ as a franchise is that love concurs all, and that while it would be dangerous to leave the dark side, he can heal and rise above his family and history through ~the power of love~.

After some more of our French gentleman(2), we hear from our second voice:

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, jump now - You are absent of cause or excuse - So self-indulgent and self-referential - No audience could ever want you - You crave the applause yet hate the attention - Then miss it, your act is a ruse - It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now - It's a pointless resistance for you

This is Regulus’ parents, discouraging their son from following in his brother's footsteps in their terrible parenting way. Speaking of how he would be selfish to leave, how Sirius would never want to see him again anyway, and how it would be pointless to fight what they have already predetermined for his life.

A little more French(3), and then we’re back to the original voice:

Achilles, Achilles, just put down the bottle - Don't listen to what you've consumed - It's chaos, confusion and wholly unworthy - Of feeding and it's wholly untrue - You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing - It's all just conjecture and gloom - And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it - Do not waste yourself on this roof

Now THIS is Sirius talking. He argues against his parents' negative influence and tries to convince Regulus that everything they’re saying is a lie. He then relates to Regulus, referring to his own experience of leaving the family and how he felt hopeless and lost, but calling Regulus to action to find meaning outside of his family (cough* James *cough) and push forward, not letting the family and Voldemort waste his life.

We then hear an updated chorus:

Hear those bells ring deep in the soul - Chiming away for a moment - Feel your breath course frankly below - And see life as a worthy opponent

Today, of all days, see - How the most dangerous thing is to love - How you will heal and you'll rise above - Crowned by an overture bold and beyond - Ah, it's more courageous to overcome

Not much to say here tbh. I don’t have any strong feelings on a different interpretation one way or another, other than the fact that ‘it’s more courageous to overcome’, is something Sirius was able to do while Regulus, unfortunately, couldn’t, and maybe this was destined, as Sirius was a Griffandor and Regulus (in my opinion) actively fought being placed in his brother's house and thus, couldn’t show his true courage until the cave.

A tiny more French(4), and then THE moment the fight comes to a head (note that the ‘good’ voice is the one in parentheses and/or italicized):

You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers (it's not worth it, Achilles)

More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles)

But be real and just jump, you dense motherf#cker (you're worth more, Achilles)

You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)

You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion)

You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts)

Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof)

Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you

I'm talking to you

I'm talking to you

I'm talking to you

Achilles, come down

Achilles, come down

This is very dense, but I think the obvious back and forth of the voices speaks as well as it can to the fight of good vs evil in Regulus’ mind as he tries to grapple with what he wants and knows is right vs the pressure of the dark side and the fear of its wrath. I DO especially like the line about being more than a rat, simply because of the symbolism with Pettigrew and how Sirius/James are reaching out and trying to save Regulus, all the while, their friend is being swept away as well.

A bit more French(5) and then the last iteration of the chorus:

Throw yourself into the unknown - With pace and a fury defiant - Clothe yourself in beauty untold - And see life as a means to a triumph

Today, of all days, see - How the most dangerous thing is to love - How you will heal and you'll rise above - Crowned by an overture bold and beyond - Ah, it's more courageous to overcome

This last bit, when listened to with Regulus in mind, comes across as very hopeful. Throw yourself into this unknown, but safer reality, do it ferociously and courageously, and surround yourself in the light of these good people who want to help you. See that your life is not condemned, you can live to be happy for yourself.

Whoa! That was a lot my friends, but now that that's settled, let's get into this FRENCH! (also the fact that they speak French, it’s literally too perfect) I’m just going to translate and do all of it in one big chunk for clarity and also this is already a mile long😅.

I see that many people die because they believe that life is not worth living. I see others, who are paradoxically killed for ideas For illusions, which give them a reason to live (What we call a reason to live is at the same time an excellent reason to die).

Of a building manager who had killed himself it was once said that he had lost his daughter five years ago, that he had changed a lot since then, and that this experience had changed him

What triggers the crisis is almost always uncontrollable. The newspapers often speak of “intimate sorrows” or “incurable illness”. These explanations are valid. But we should know if, on the same day, a friend of the desperate person did not speak to him in an indifferent tone.

The memories of a lost homeland, the hope of a promised land. This divorce between the man of his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.

Either yes or no. this would be too easy. But we must make allowance for those who, without concluding, always question. Here, I am hardly being ironic, this is the majority. I also see that those who answer “no” act as if they thought “yes”.

Now, if you just read that all and were like, WTH girl, what even was that? Well, let me tell you! Every instance of French in the song is an excerpt from ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’, a book written way back in 1942. Why does this matter? In all honesty, it kinda doesn’t😅. Sisyphus was a king who figured out how to cheat death so everyone could live forever, and it SUPER ticked off the gods, so now he’s stuck rolling a boulder up a hill forever and ever.

I have racked my brain trying to tie this into the Regulus stuff, but it’s just not working so now you just get to know what the French stuff is about and that’s gonna have to be good enough, I’m afraid😂

ANYWAY, with everything combed through and all the parallels pointed out, I hope you can go listen to this song with new ears and get on my wavelength about it! Enjoy your life, you know, drink some water, viva la vida loca and all that.

TLDR; I’ve decided ‘Achilles Come Down’ is the perfect depiction of Regulus trying to get away from his parents' harmful ideations while being called to by Sirius/James who are attempting to save him.

[dragongirltongue]

working on a story/game/thing set in the 1990s, it's about the world changing and and the age of magic beginning. time is going to progress narratively only and I want the ending to take place on New Years to fit into the things are changing vibe.

The story is going to be playful but take itself seriously enough, think like Adventure Time or SLARPG in terms of tone, at least at this point in concept and development.

I'm thinking it'll either take place in '99 for the big heavy theming of entering the new millennium as the world changes forever.

Or

Somewhere earlier where the actual year turnover won't ultimately matter beyond the imagery of a new year beginning by the end of the story.

No show results option or suggest your own, though if you choose the second option and have a specific year in mind I'm very willing to listen, do give reasons if you suggest a specific year. Hell feel free to give reasons if you chose '99 too.

If you want more deets hit the read more.

So you wanna know more about this idea huh?

Well I was playing Tunic not long after Lenna's Inception and the Anodyne games and thought, hey I'd really love to make my own Zelda game too.

The idea is that 12,000ish years ago magic was discovered to be a thing by humanity, around this time a dragon appeared and warned that magic would doom the world. The magic users refused to listen and so a fight broke out, the dragon killed them all.

With the magic users all dead the dragon sealed earth in an anti-magic bubble and requested that their followers kill them to truly end all magic on earth, in their final moments they cast a spell with what magic is left inside the bubble to ensure they reincarnate if magic ever returns and can influence their new incarnation to destroy magic once again.

skip forward to the 1990s, after the industrial revolution caused untold amounts of ecological damage the anti-magic bubble is damaged along with all the horrors we know to have happened in reality.

At some point a corporation happens to find the truth, that magic exists and that a dragon is central to how it will alter our world. So they use it in several projects and build dragons to guard the locations these projects are taking place in. These locations then transform into dungeons.

Our hero finally enters the picture, Connie, a young woman who's just been doing whatever with her life, after investigating a rumor about monsters at a construction site she finds herself guided by a voice to take up a sword and fight the immitation dragons so she can achieve her true power, take on the form of a dragon herself, and save the world from the threat of magic.

Connie decides however after an accident at the first dungeon that maybe the world will be better off with magic as long as it's not solely in the hands of greedy rich bastards.

There's a lot more I have figured out but I think this is enough to get an idea for the poll. I am happy to blather more about the setting and Connie herself, her friends eventually too once I have them figured out. Feel free to send me asks about this. I'm prolly gonna make a sideblog for this at some point. Ideally once I have an idea if I can reasonably make a videos game or not lol.

[cy-cyborg]

So I'm one of those writers that falls into the trap of world building super hard. I have so many projects I spent months or even years creating, writing lore, doing art for, all kinds of stuff, but never end up telling any actual stories in so they just end up going ultimately unused. One I'm working on right now is likely to fall into this category.

The thing is, I've recently come to the conclusion I enjoy world building more than actually writing in a lot of cases. Don't get me wrong, I still love to write and tell stories and make comics, I won't stop doing that lol, but I also really love making worlds and settings just because I can.

The problem is though, without a story to attach to these worlds, I don't know how to go about actually sharing them in any way. It's fun making things, but to spending so long working on something that no one will ever see is starting to feel... I guess a bit tiering. A few I tried to use little slice of life stories or comics as a way to share the worlds and settings, but they never actually stay slice of lifey. The big comic I'm working on right now, Voidstar, was supposed to be one of these and at some point it went from "cozy space slice of life" to "gay aliens get imprinted on by a baby dragon god and travel the galaxy to fight the government" Needless to say, Scope creep is a bit of an issue for me lol and nothing ever gets done. I also tried making websites on a few occasions or showing stuff off on my portfolio website related to the worldbuilding projects, but that didn't end up working for a bunch of reasons (mainly that my portfolio is on Wix and they're stingy with space for pages/uploads). I also tried World Anvil, and used to really enjoy that, but they've locked way too many features now behind frankly ridiculous paywalls, so It's not really worth it now. Not to mention it was really hard to make WA sites decently accessible.

All of this to say, I want to start sharing these worlds (if nothing else so I stop vanishing from social media for months at a time when I get hyperfixated lol) but I have no idea how. Does anyone have any ideas or suggestions?

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 18 thoughts

was thinking about my evening scullynmulder time all day… and here we are <3

to be honest, i'm not sure how i feel about this episode. it was just kind of okay for me. nothing to make me loathe it (well- one thing that made me angry, but it was small, and i'll talk about it), but nothing too compelling for me plot-wise. that being said, sometimes hearing an alternate viewpoint can change my mind, or i'll put together pieces later that didn't connect right away while watching, and the light in which i view an episode can change. so no hard and fast rulings here.

i’m reading the episode description, and it seems to be about archaeological digs, and sacred items being transported where they shouldn’t be!! this is actually something i feel really strongly about!!!

(in fact, i had to cut a LOT of this episode recap down because i kept going on about anthropological ethics... then i straight up realized i needed to stfu <3)

we begin!

we are in ecuador, at a dig site. oh, a pot! and pottery shards. how exciting! someone is yelling about something they found, and everyone comes to look. i do not speak spanish but i think they are saying that this thing is a bad sign? shoutout to cognates and closed captions, two of my bestest friends

it has since started snowing since they found this thing, which dr. roosevelt proclaims to be an amaru, which is a bold sign. there is a skull in there.

anyway, the archaeologists are saying that the body of a female shaman is sacred, and that it cannot be disturbed. and i would say, yes of course! but dr. roosevelt is not chill like me, and says they aren’t disturbing her, but saving her. okay, so this is the sort of thing that has sadly been incredibly common in real life, disregard for Indigenous opinions on the treatment of their ancestors by so-called academics claiming to fight for history. he orders the archaeologists to pack it up despite their insistence that it isn’t a good idea.

a shaman appears on the mountains in the snow... which is not an auspicious sign, i would imagine.

so this dr. roosevelt is listening to his classical music while the archaeologists from the dig are conducting a ceremony with the mountain shaman. they are sipping from a spoon and passing it around. ah, it is a hallucinogen. things get all green vision-y.

something is coming… A BIG CAT!!! HAS EATEN DR. ROOSEVELT!!!!!! JAGUAR BE UPON YE!!!!!!!

deserved.

intro time. how i have come to love this pair and their blurry lil spooky scenes…. <3 

so now we are at the boston museum of natural history. a guard is about with a flashlight in the dark and i think he sees some blood?? YES LOTS OF BLOOD. literally so much blood omfg. and then behind all the blood is the amaru!!!

is it agents time? is it agents time? YAAAAAS AGENTS TIME!!!! they are investigating. and someone scully is talking to thinks that the murder victim- craig- was killed because of the project he was working on. 

OH! scully has a letter in her hands from the Secona demanding the return of their artifacts. yes yes! i hope the museum does the right thing at this urging (even though i know deep down they will not)

“it was among the antiquities we rescued last month”, says someone from the museum <- ohhhh you're going to jail for that self-righteous language. scully catches onto the “rescued” description. they claim that the area was going to undergo construction. um so i would ask why reburying it in a place slightly to the left where it wasn't going to get smashed by a pipeline wasn't considered as an option, and why we jumped straight to giving it to some dudes in boston.

mulder asks about the curse, which he is apparently well-versed in. the jaguar spirit will attack those who disturb the bones of the woman shaman. but this guy says he will NOT return the remains. a stubborn fool... 

a phd candidate helps them look at the urn, and mulder rightfully points out that if someone messed with his bones, he would also want a curse to be placed upon them. which is tea.

the phd candidate's name is mona, and she agrees that this should have been left in the ground, that craig didn’t know about the danger he was in, and she is aware of SEVERAL letters of protest. she reveals that Dr. Bilac, who was the liaison to the tribe, either resigned or was forced out by the head of the project, depending on who you ask, because he believed that “the Secona have the right to determine the fate of their ancestral remains” AS HE SHOULD!!

going to this guy’s house. he was at the dig. and frankly, i do think he is very attractive. but he seems a bit... out of it, to put it nicely. 

his house is full of artifacts and images of artifacts. he’s asking scully "who told you i was involved", and scully says mona. okay... i think it wasn’t really secret knowledge??? no need to be so defensive!

he clarifies that he objected when he felt dr. roosevelt went too far. and he says “you don’t want to know what i think happened” so mulder sits RIGHT NEXT TO HIM and clarifies that yes, yes they really would. i was sensing some undertones there.

dr. bilac says "i think whatever happened is going to keep happening until the bones are returned" <- a reasonable deduction.

he says their investigation is a waste of time. scully seems to think he is “the suspect”, suggesting that he would kill for his cause. she describes his politics as radical but... they really aren’t.

(and this was the part i mentioned objecting to in the beginning, her referring to "his politics" like that. however, i am reminded that some scientists, historians, and anthropologists genuinely take this position- that ancestral remains ought to be studied, wishes of their communities be damned- and therefore it is not entirely out of character for her to think like that, but it is something we'd get in a heated fight about)

and mulder does that thing where he puts his hand on her back. don’t think i missed that!!!!

they’re bickering about what really happened and i'm thinking, well no one knows yet, maybe it WAS a jaguar spirit.

OH! mona is on the phone saying someone is lying. and someone else is listening in. it’s dr. lewton who is eavesdropping. mona was on the phone with dr. bilac!!! so what was he lying to the agents about?!?

so lewton is saying that they have a responsibility to history and that they were doing the right thing and to ignore “the politics”... again with the politics comment. this is real-world rhetoric here that some people actually believe, but isn’t there something despicable about asking for respect for people's ancestors being called “politics”?

OH! dr. lewton is threatening mona's career…… oh! okay so he might be evil.

NO, THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN. MONA NO!! 

oh it’s just a dog :) his name is sugar :) yay i was scared for nothing :) hiii sugar ur really cute!

dr. lewton in the car. car isn’t starting!!!! that’s suspicious…. that’s weird…. he lifts up the hood. and we hear a heavy breathing and see stuff from a blurry green point of view....

the hood is full of BLOOD??? which he touches btw... NASTY! but what is even nastier is the dragging and screaming and ripping we hear now going on to him... and thus is the end of dr. lewton

(hmm are they gonna say bilac is transforming into the jaguar? and that’s why we heard a man breathing?? <- no they will not, past me, but it was a compelling guess)

scully plucks a dead rat from inside the car. “label that”, she says to a police officer, placing it in a bag. “as what?” “partial rat body part” <- i don’t know why this is making me cry laughing 

mona is being questioned. she lies and says lewton didn’t mention dr. bilac last night. LIAR. anyway! scully gives her her card and says to give her a call if anything comes to mind

mulder in the woods with the police. and the green vision-y thing sees him!!! from in a tree!!!

but then scully comes in bearing news of rats in the museum and in his car. she thinks mona knows something and is trying to protect bilac. which is also what i am thinking. perhaps scully's entrance saved mulder from the green visioned being pouncing upon him.

GASP! a drop of blood falls upon mulder’s face whilst still in the woods, and he thinks it’s rain. she wipes it off and looks up to find… ENTRAILS IN A TREE!!!!!! icky.

and is there tenderness in wiping a strange blood from an unknown source off of your partner's face while they kneel in the woods? yes.

mona is at dr. bilac’s place. he isn’t answering. oh, she calls him “lonnie”... so are they chill or something? anyway, he doesn’t seem to be in there.

EXCEPT HE IS! he was in the dark and yelled at her for trying to touch the windows. behaving like a vampire.

he has no reaction to learning that dr. lewton is dead, but he sure is sweaty and gaunt. he said he told mona not to come. aggressively.

OH! he has the stuff on the floor he had taken with the tribe with the shared spoon at the start of the episode. which he calls “vine of the soul”. she knows what that means- yaje- and does NOT like that. she grabs it and tells him he is sick and needs help. but he yells at her to get out :( and she is crying :( why are you hurting her....

AUTOPSY TIME ft. doctor scully!!! it’s a human intestine. LMAOOOO she found sunflower seeds in it and mulder says he is “a man of taste” 

oh! she says it looks like rats did the biting. love when she says unsettling stuff like that.

phone call time now. it’s mona calling scully. she’s crying at the museum, and the dog is barking as she says she feels she isn’t alone. scully deploys mulder to the scene.

there is a box that says teso dos bichos which is the name of the episode. google says it translates to "i have two bugs" but i don't fully believe that. anyway, as she goes to touch the urn the dog keeps barking. it’s a very very cute dog. 

she hears something going wild in the bathroom. like an earthquake in the toilets. and the toilets are full of RATS who are climbing OUT AT HER AND SHE SCREAMS AND YES ME TOO I AM ALSO SCREAMING????

scully at dr. bilac’s house. very tense music is playing and his door is wide open!!! she finds the bowls of the stuff while mulder is at the museum looking for mona or any sort of clues. 

mulder bumps onto the security guard, who tries to take him to mona. pls don't hurt my girl i'm rooting for her to get that phd.

scully is reading from dr. bilac’s journal, which describes a jaguar climbing from the trees, and mulder thinks well maybe that is how the intestines got up there, but she says he’s been tripping. two things can be true!! 

she says he has been invoking the curse. but as she says this, mulder rounds a corner and sees a LOT of blood. he enters the bathroom with a flourish of his gun. and finds dr. bilac! who only says “she’s dead” 

they bring him in for questioning- very suspicious for him to be in the bloody bathroom- but he claims he doesn’t know where mona is. 

oh, very very tense exchange. “i did not kill her” “then why do you have blood on your clothes?” scully is NOT messing around

he claims he was afraid for mona and tried to keep her away from this. she says point blank that he did it, but he is like no, you are dealing with a spirit. and he doesn’t know where her body is. 

mulder is troubled. he notices that all the toilets overflowed. oh! the rats were still in there. “rats. in every toilet” <- very serious show we are dealing with 

NO!!! mona's dog died :( the dog ate a cat that ate a rat that ate poison. mulder thinks this is suspicious. she says a lot of old buildings have rats. again, two things can be true!

he thinks the rats were trying to escape. and SOMEHOW bilac is gone. mulder seems to think that perhaps bilac animorphed into a rat? or he was dragged down into some old tunnels. because they did find blood!!!

tunnel time tunnel time! he tries the ladies first card but it does not work. oooh spooky dark tunnel. 

there is a creature down here!!!! with the green vision!!! a cat hisses. i mean if there are a lot of rats this is a banger place to be a cat but i’m still suspicious.

they follow a rat deeper into the tunnels and find a door. scully goes in the door but mulder went the other way. WHY DID HE DO THAT!!! NEVER SEPARATE IN THE TUNNELS.

mulder is looking at a rat. cute little dude. then calls for scully. HE HAS FOUND ALL OF THE BODIES!!! AND THEY HAVE BEEN GNAWED EEEW 

and the green vision thing sees them! oh! it is a cat. but just a little one. not a big scary one. 

OH!! a LOT OF CATS!!

NO!!! they are GETTING HER!!! LIKE SO MANY CATS!!!! and there is blood pouring from her face. despite this she finds bilac who is very dead. 

a large army of cats is trying to break in while they try to get out. he pulls her up and guides her out. 

aww her face is all scratched up :( pls test her for rabies this is soooo evil!!!

oh! the ecuadorian ambassador is coming to collect the urn. so success but at what cost.

mulder wraps up the episode. the archaeologists are reburying the urn. we see the shaman’s eyes go all green like the cats did!!!

so it was her doing the stuff!!! well. she needed to be returned home.

collecting my thoughts on the matter. 

well, first off, an ecuadorian jaguar spirit turning into a mass of wild rats and cats in boston is so funny so let’s establish that. 

second of all. i’m always hesitant to comment upon episodes that use indigenous people and beliefs as a plot point/scary thing of the week. so i’m going to have to admit i don’t know enough to comment on that. 

what i can comment upon is the very real trafficking of antiquities, destruction of archaeological sites, and above all, blatant insensitivity of academics historically thinking they are “saving” what they are plundering. it is a very real thing. and i talked about it a LOT more in the original draft of this but realized i ought to spare you. dm for reading recs tho

overall, i thought the episode was okay. i wasn’t really sure what they were doing with bilac, but i guess he was summoning the curse? but it kept going after he died. so i’m a little unclear on the rules of the curse here tbh. 

honestly not enough scully and mulder time for me, which is why it wasn't really a stand out to me, even if i thought the concept was fascinating.

but sometimes my opinions change and i'm open to hearing thoughts on the matter slash things i missed! like i'm still not fully getting the episode title so pls feel free to explain that.

[goodlucktai]

tagged by @bobtheacorn like...... 3 weeks ago 😭 my bad

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

283

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,353,670

which seems.......excessive

3. What fandoms do you write for?

actively, one piece and tmnt, but that is ruled by the demons in my brain that control the hyperfixation machine.

fandoms ive posted 3 or more fics for:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends Good Omens Final Fantasy XV Undertale Mumintroll | Moomins Series Harry Potter Young Justice 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia 陈情令 | The Untamed King Falls AM Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rise of the Guardians Voltron: Legendary Defender

4. Top five fics by kudos?

Exclusivity - 11,116

walk straight through hell with a smile - 9,152

Inanition - 9,039

there is thunder in our hearts - 8,161

trouble is a friend of mine - 7,842

5. Do you respond to comments?

i do try to but i can't always :'( and i feel terrible if i manage to reply to most and then forget someone and only realize it months later. but i read every single comment and i appreciate them more than i have words for

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i tend to veer away from angst, but off the top of my head....

where the good men go or if i go i'm going on fire

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

99% of my fics have a happy ending because thats my BRAND but i suppose give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around or the weekend we were in love OR put your empty hands in mine

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not often, but i recently had someone who REALLY disliked the way things change because i 'villainized' raph. which is definitely news to me, since raphael is the love of my life

9. Do you write smut?

nope

10. Craziest crossover?

i wrote a tmnt/one piece crossover once ? but now that we are actually getting a tmnt/naruto idw run it doesnt feel that weird to me anymore

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

only once if i'm remembering right ?? it was a long time ago and wattpad related, which is a site that i dont really understand and therefore tend to avoid

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes ! i'll often have people request to translate my stories and it blows me away every time

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Devil took your hand was written by myself and @moogsthewriter

14. All time favourite ship?

ineffable husbands, wangxian, or leosagi

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

how much time do you have 😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

i want to say characterization and narrative voice. i'm also pretty good at maintaining a throughline, even if it sometimes gets a little wobbly

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

conflict ! i hate it ! i will avoid writing it at all costs ! i also tend to struggle with writing fight scenes, especially when there are several characters involved :') staging any kind of choreography is my opp

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i try not to but if it feels unavoidable i google the heck out of it

19. First fandom you wrote in?

honestly it was either digimon (which also inspired my og penname) or xiaolin showdown lol

20. Favourite fic you've written?

i'm stealing bob's idea and going top 5:

there is thunder in our hearts - this story came together so easily for me, like i knew exactly how i wanted to tell it from start to finish

the only hoax i believe in - a kfam fic in my top 5s why yes and i'll tell you why. because i poured so much of myself into this fic that they could probably read it at my funeral instead of a eulogy

traveling so far to get there - after party au raph and mikey continue to take up so much real estate in my brain and for what

now the darkness comes alive - this one is more recent but im so happy with the way it turned out :')

if we could stay all day in the sun - it was a lot of fun reimagining one of my favorite fairy tales and doing a bunch of unnecessary research for this story i will stand by it until the day i die !!

i'm tagging @mykimouser, @owletstarlet, @portgas-d-aroace, @mad4turtles, @camsthisky, @remedyturtles, @pickledcarrotsandradish, @swordsmans, @mangogreent, and anyone else who wants to !