#I just dislike most YA in general now I think

[olskuvallanpoe]

I have a certain distrust towards books popular on booktok & book twt bc all I ever see from them is the same straight romance YA novel over and over again with slight variations, and while people are valid if they like that, its really not my scene

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[0daylighthours0]

A Deep Dive into Milkvan and Byler's Development: If Milkvan Was Endgame All Along, Why Was it Written Like This???

SO. I've been rewatching st with my mother, who's never seen it before. And she was a fan of milkvan throughout seasons 1 and 2. Viewing those seasons again I could see why, they're cute. However, come season 3 and INSTANT distaste. And, listen, my mother is not the consciously shipping gal. She simply routes for main character pairings as writers intend, doesn't read between the lines, doesn't nothing. And she does NOT know my own opinions on the pairing. In other words, completely unbiased, uninternet drama influenced eyes. We've now reached season 3 and, after getting through a chunk of it, I asked her,

"so what do you think of Mike and El?"

and she expressed to me that they seem to be, quote:

"not very good together."

She said El's character doesn't suit the way she's acting now (in the first few episodes, concerning Mike), that Mike is more likeable and interesting when he's away from her. She doesn't like the way they ditched the party, and when it comes to their 'making out' the scenes are seen by her from Hopper's perspective (in other words, distasteful). She claimed that they'd be much better characters as friends.

And ya know what, she's right. And I mean like - duh, that's what we've been saying all this time, I'm not stating anything new here. But guys, wouldn't it be strange if the central couple of the show, pivotal that it is liked by audiences and is rooted for by them as they are THE pair, would be so dislikable like this? So uninteresting, so cliche.

I mean, okay, let's do a little mental experiment I like to do to test if I'm not just acting delulu. Let's play a game. In this game, milkvan ARE meant to be endgame. They are in love, they were all along, and they're here to draw in viewers and appease all El stans. Now, seasons 1 and 2 their relationship is honestly fine. Surface level, yeah, people will watch and appreciate them. They perfectly blend in with all the other neat pairings of the seasons, and have their own unique character traits to stand out as a main couple.

Just pretending our mate Will doesn't exist, we now get into season 3. Now, writers have nothing to lose here. If you've finished season 2, you probably like milkvan already. The issue is that they're already together now, so what's the conflict going to be? The arc? And every central couple needs that conflict to stay juicy.

Just take a look:

Jancy: quarrels, struggle to understand one another

Jopper: not yet together, one sided? will they won't they

Lumax: ...

Lumax? Lumax. Huh, guess they were simply together. Some loveable bickering, maintained a friendly dynamic while clearly in closer proximity. Well then, writers can do the same for milkvan right? Well, yes easily. But one might argue that since they are supposed to be THE pairing they need more going on between them than that. So what'll it be? Well, it seems that writers thought,

"hey, why not break them up?"

ok so.. that's a bit risky. I mean you want people to like this ship, if you break them up then that threats: 1. there being a disliking to one or both characters, 2. coming off generic if done incorrectly, 3. the break up might make no sense considering how in love they came off as just a season ago. But hey.. it could work, if done right. Some kind of misunderstanding, similar to Jancy. Maybe an argument leading to a sudden parting. I mean, yeah, Yeah! I can see that. Perhaps Mike is being too overprotective whilst El's trying to sacrifice herself for something, so she NEEDS to separate herself from him attempting to hurt him less. Or, I dunno, something akin. What's crucial is that us, AS THE AUDIENCE, still know them to be deeply in love. I mean, we have to still want them to be together. And we've seen couple trouble before. Just take a look at Lumax season 4 - did you or did you not want the best for both of them as a pair? You most likely did. See, it's doable. So did people like milkvan season 3 the same way, even after a separation plot? No.

Okay well, there are obviously those who'll always love milkvan no matter but, see, season 3 tainted it. "We need to write them like this cause it's more realistic to teenager behavior" my ars. You can make it messy without making it icky. Not only did it sour their unique dynamic, it flabbergastingly stomped on Mike as a character.

Honestly, I feel Mike has always been a mild struggle to write. Season 1 his motivations were 'find Will' (who still doesn't exist in our mind game yet shh) and 'protect El'. This worked well for him. Afterwards though, El and Will became more separate plots to him. But as a main character it remained integral that he be closely linked to them somehow. This sets him apart from Lucas and Dustin, who can easily be given any arc any season as their plots have the flexibility of a side quest nature. Since what Mike does is meant to matter more - with there probably being a better way of phrasing that but you know what I mean - it's harder knowing what he'll do when El and Will (who we'll GET to sh.) are their own separate people. And Mike is just a boy, he doesn't have super powers and he isn't a cop, which leaves there even less for him to do which is of significance. Season 2 writers decided upon having him support Will's arc, making himself of enough relevance by being able to take credit for some Will development in the story, and the plots that surrounded that, and then Mike was thrown a little bone by being the one to come up with the idea of burning those vines in the finale.

Truthfully, you don't really remember Mike's deeds much when reminiscing the series. It isn't like Dustin who's bond with Dart sticks to everyone, or Nancy and Jonathan responsible for kicking out Hawkins Lab. This is due to them, again, being able to traverse all sorts of adventures without limits. But my guy Mike can't do dat. Sadly, this kind of leads to him coming of as a little.. well... insignificant. And I know I know, the Mike truthers are gonna come at my throat. And hey! I love him too. I only want the best for my boy.

This makes season 3 a unique case cause it seems that, for the plot they decided they wanted, writers actually had to almost entirely change his character. I mean mate s2 Mike and s3 Mike are two different peoples, don't even. And I don't believe that the Duffers had their story and character turnouts completely drawn out from the very start at all. If I was to guess, I'd assume they have vague ideas of little plots they plan to include in future, but there is definitely a lot that has come unpredicted or changed throughout st's runtime. And one of those phenomenons are Michael Wheeler. So they decided to make this guy a di-

So they decided to make him more douchy, more movie typical teenage guy. It's not as if he wholly sucked, he didn't, but he didn't really do much. Whined about his girlfriend, separated the party. I mean what even was his arc? (UnLESS–)

You see, if milkvan is written to be loved, then season 3 was strike one. All of its charm was stripped away. It seems they had some cute scenes after their reconciliation, but it's not enough. It's just sort of

"oh, ok, so they're happy with eachother now. yayy."

and Stranger Things should want to be anything but boring. Sure they often enjoy indulging in tropes, but they always do something different with them. Something standoutish. And from this point on milkvan just got dull. Either writers ran out of ideas or lost interest, honestly (still with our mind game of telling ourselves they're meant to be).

But it's okay. Look, so season 3 was a bit rocky, maybe lost a couple of fans for the guys, but it is salvageable. Easily, easily. Looks like we want a plot of Mike struggling to tell El he loves her. Great! Much to work with.

So let's get into it. Season 4! Choices were... made. And, okay, now we can't go any further without bringing in our boy Will.

Mike is intrinsically tied to Will and El and has been from the start. Maybe Will was more of an accident. Maybe s1 Will was just a plot device for Mike, then s2 Will was a plot device again and Mike needed to be there as the main boy character. Come season 3 and it seems their relationship still matters. Will was sidelined - hard - so most of Mike's moments revolved around El. But as his bond with Mike is the only that's been properly built up, that's the only friend we'll get him interacting with in a way that matters. So the Mike and Will tie continues!

But that does not have to be the case for season 4. Now the writers have a chance.

They made Will gay.

Ok so.. ok so yeah that's fine. Yeah! I mean they didn't have to do that, might put them in hot water with the bylers since milkvan is their golden beauty but.. you know what no no that's okay. He's been hinted at being queer since episode 1, why not make it canon! Cool that works. Explore that, especially since we now have Vecna who can easily target Will for this. Give him a boyfriend! Or a guy crush. He's at a new school now? That's cool. Maybe we can explore some new male character Will's taken interest in. Hey maybe he meets someone who interests him which rises to surface his whole sexuality plot and-

he's in love with Mike.

Ok. No. No. What are you doing? What do you mean?? You didn't have to do that. Strike- strike EFING TWO mates! Strike. 👏 efing. 👏 2!

This was part 1. I am tired and gots to get my ars in bed. But ohohoh, do not worry. I am just getting started.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Liu Kang and others if you want receiving and hug/kiss from reader after dealing with titan shang tsung

Here ya go! Bi-Han might be a bit ooc but then again I never claimed to write characters perfectly…so there’s that.

Liu Kang was exhausted, with Shang Tsung dealt with and peace was seemingly restored, he knew better then anyone that there was much work to be done to undo the damage caused.

So much that upon feeling your arms encase his muscular build, coddling him against you as your warmth brought him comfort and security. He didn’t feel as though he was Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire in that moment but instead he was just Liu Kang; your Liu Kang. As ironic as it may sound coming from a man as powerful as him but with you, Liu Kang felt safe, he felt protected but most importantly he felt like all his hard efforts had been paid off in the form of you holding him.

A weight had been lifted from his chest, and as the fatigue he had pushed aside slowly start to take hold over him and all he wanted was to stay like this forever, to get the chance to stay with you in his arms for the rest of time, should fate ever allow such a small request to be made; Liu Kang wanted the opportunity to fall asleep and wake up to you like he should’ve been from the very beginning but couldn’t.

Now however he hopes that he could use this as a way to make up for lost time.

Raiden didn’t think his smile could possibly get any wider than it did now as you peppered his face in abundance of soft, loving kisses that left a tingly feeling in his skin after pulling away to kiss another aspect of his face, causing him to chuckle at the almost magical sensation.

His eyes would then close in utter and pure bliss as he leant into the hands that held his face as though it were a priceless antiquity. Raiden felt your thumbs brush over his cheekbones either care, leaving an invisible trail for your lips to follow along.

You were Raiden’s safe haven and he’d always find himself coming back to you no matter what his condition was, for you were always with him even if you physically weren’t because Raiden always kept you close in the depths his heart; sighting you as his inspiration and his guiding force through rough situations, hopeful that one day he’d get to return to your arms and immerse himself in your warmth whilst sharing his own in equal exchange.

You stayed within your own paradise for a long while before going back to it within the realm of dreams, huddled together like two otters, unwilling to let the other drift away.

Kuai Liang reciprocates your hug with his one of his own as an excuse to feel your warmth against him, even though the fact still stood that he ran incredibly warm for the both of you, but he disliked having to leave your side for prolonged periods of time. Something that has only gotten worse with Bi-Han’s betrayal and his promise of bringing you into their quarrel, despite the prior warnings that were given to the cryomancer.

He needed this more then you could ever know with the way he was quick to bury his head into shoulder, his hands holding onto you so tightly, you feared that your clothes would bear scorched imprints of his hands afterwards. You couldn’t blame him however and allowed Kuai Liang to cling onto you in an almost desperate plea to prevent you from fading out of his life forever.

You both held onto one another like you each other’s lifeline, like you couldn’t live without one another as you tried to move in closer to Kuai Liang in hopes of moulding yourself into his very being. You both found comfort in knowing that the other was okay, that they were safe because god forbid if anything were to happen to either you or Kuai Liang.

You were practically soulmates in the literal sense.

Bi-Han, whilst in the privacy of your shared room, would just allow you to hold onto him tightly while made no attempts as to voice his general opinion on this sort of thing.

He was ice cold in more then just powers alone.

his voice was cold.

his gaze that peered at you with judgment was cold.

His unfeeling heart might as well be a block of unbreakable ice.

His entire body was cold and that the longer you held onto him, some parts of your body -primarily in your fingertips and hands- were already starting to feel the numbing effects of embracing someone who was the literal embodiment of a wall of ice. Had you done this in public, in front of people that Bi-Han couldn’t stand, he would have no issue in ripping your arms away from his sides, leaving you to stand in your own embarrassment as he walked away.

However behind closed doors Bi-Han was more lenient towards you showing him affection. No one was nearby to witness this moment between supposed lovers, no one was here to see the one person Bi-Han admitted to calling his Achilles heel, holding onto him with such determination. So for once in his life, Bi-Han allowed those walls he built to come down as he slowly place his hands against your back, tucking you against him even further, closing his tired eyes and resting his weary head into your neck where he let out a sigh before letting himself to collapse into your embrace completely.

Bi-Han was a man devoid of such simple acts throughout his life that once it’s given to him, he has to remind himself that he was under no threat, other then being under the threat of breaking apart in your arms after endearing hardships for so long. So long in fact that a measly small act was enough to have this man crumble internally before crumbling physically afterwards.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

I recently found a copy of the graphic novel version of Straight on Til Morning at my local used bookstore and got a great deal so I wanted to share a few of my likes, dislikes, and general observations. I’d been meaning to write up a proper review of the book for awhile now but have been SUPER behind. Anyway, the graphic novel follows the book pretty closely and I’ll be sharing some images from it, so this WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS for those of you who haven’t read it.

First off, the artwork for the graphic novel is beautiful and some scenes are illustrated in a really creative way. For example, I love the depiction of this particular scene where Wendy is writing her stories and Hook sort of…comes to life off the page.

I also really love that while (most of) the characters are still recognizably Disney’s version…they also look a tad more realistic and have some of the illustrator’s own personal interpretation mixed in.

George Darling is a great example. In the graphic novel he is slimmer than in the film and looks remarkably like J.M. Barrie…which I have to consider was probably intentional.

And then there’s the Lost Boys in their animal costumes…Tootles, Skipper (excuse me, this is Nibs erasure—you can add Skipper but don’t just eliminate Nibs!), Slightly, Cubby, and the Twins.

The pirates, however, are a totally different story. Who the heck are these guys???

Anyway… at least they get Hook’s personality right. I love this bit, in particular, where one of the pirates gets a little rough with Wendy and Hook is having none of it. Also, the idea of Hook capturing Wendy to be a mother to the crew is a nice nod to the book.

One big complaint I do have is that the characters are, on occasion, a little TOO self-aware. Like in this scene where one of the pirates makes a sort of on-the-nose observation about Hook’s feud with Pan.

But I will admit, I did cackle at Hook’s reaction.

He said would you please stop trying to psychoanalyze me and look for symbolism and just let the story be about a boy and a pirate? (Hook, how do you even know who Freud is??)

You may have noticed by now that I haven’t said anything about Peter… That’s because Peter barely features in the story at all and honestly when he does show up, he’s…kinda useless and clueless. Now, admittedly, Wendy is meant to be older in this (around 16) so of course, it’s reasonable to think she might not quite view him the same way she did at 12…but in having her team up with Tink to do all the heavy-lifting of the plot (because, ya know, girlpower and all that), Peter sort of ends up not really doing anything. I’d almost rather have an evil Pan, as annoying as that trope is because at least then he actually does something. In this story, it truly feels like Wendy has just…outgrown Peter altogether. And that hurts.

Speaking of which…ya know what hurts even more for me as a Hook fan? THIS.

This poor man is curled up on the deck in the fetal position, terrified of a crocodile who has been long-dead, crying out for a best friend who never even existed except inside his own mind because he was so alone that he made him up.

O W !! Why would you do this to me, Disney?!

It ends for Hook with the crew deciding to drop him off somewhere with enough gold to pay for his keep and hire a caretaker because he’s so mentally unstable they don’t trust him to live by himself.

I hate to say it, but honestly, watching him die would be less painful. At least that would be over with fairly quickly. This just hurts.

But everyone else lives happily ever after, so it’s okay, right? Right??? 😫😭 (Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over here in the corner, crying over my pirate boy.)

[sp00pypumpkins]

This is how I feel Zero would met player HAHHA, they werent prepared to face an adult human per se XD.

Au belongs to @asamary!

I am going to rant a bit about it under the cut.

He uses they/he pronouns

He is slightly smaller than catnap

So Zero was just in a intership for a short period before he found the truth and wanted to out it but they got him and turn him into a toy! When he found the truth he met the prototype but his fascination of gadgets and mechanism was stronger than feeling fear XD

He can produce energy via his emotions and on his own will if he is in good shape, he met the critters soon after, he was in charge of the time for movies or shows and story telling. His knowledge in mechanism made him be able to have more dinamic storytelling using tricks with lights and such.

Zero then loses their temper electrocuting a scientist not on purpose trying to stop them for taking more kids, in wich the scientist take notice and take him to the labs in wich he got experimented more and amplifying his production of electricity.

He then kept being experimented while being plugged to the facility providing electricity to a portion of it. He became a living generator.

The prototype then offered them to be part of the hour of joy by the promise of revenge and freedom and no more pain, he accepted and shut the facility down from electricity and closed the doors from many places trapping everyone inside.

Now this is where the the au and canon takes different paths

Since in canon Zero gets deceived by the Prototype and was kept as a generator for the prototype (basically he will still be used as a generator by the prototype) the prototype would carve a mouth in the shape of a smile on Zero so he can feed. Zero dislikes him after being betrayed.

In the au since the prototype just killed the scientists and the bad people, Zero is very loyal to the prototype and helps them finding the more bad people by hacking security cameras or websites, but he stays in the town most of the time.

In the au Zero lives in the basement of the aparment the critters live in (if they are in a building and not just a singular house lmao) He produces the energy of a portion of the city, if he doesnt their electricity would go hirewire, he just plugs himself at night and acumulates the electricity in the generators.

If there is a storm and ther ei s apower outage he can easily feed the building, you just need to wake him up and tell him about it.

Zero has 6 minicritters of themselfves in wich some are patrolling and some are around him, they are like security cameras in a way

They go around fixing a lot of stuff around town specially electronics,

He likes to create gadgets, toys or artwork from metal, thats why he would go to the dupmster zone to search for parts and bring them home, they find admiration how the prototype can dissamble an object to create another so he looks up to the prototype like a teacher.

He is usually in the background doing mundane fixes there and there, because he was isolated and the only contact was when they experimented on him, he gets veyr anxious around adult humans but with time you can see he is just a silly guy who adores affection he just doesnt know how to handle it yet.

I like to think they are the guy whom people go when something gets broken or need assitance with.

I really couldnt stop thinkning about the au, its 2 am but I probs forgot things.

If ya dont mind I shall keep doing lil comics about this au with my oc in it qwq

Now just a wip of a future ref I am making

Some fun facts:

He dislikes being touched in the back

The Prototype helped zero gain a mouth and get unplugged from the cables since it was a tedious and careful task.

The minicriters have different shapes (i forgot to put the x body marks on the square anthena minicrtitter :()

Simple shape on anthena= complex shape on body and vice versa.

He can speak human language very soflty but it feels off for him specially if he talks for to long it starts to hurt. (He normally talks in gibberish like puppycat from the show :D)

The stronger the emotion the more energy he can produce

If there are tvs plug on them or he touches them, he can comunicate with those using memories and replicating the voice from that memory (is like doing a collage of different voices and images in a tv) he can also project their dreams on tvs

He is very light

The scarf/coat is attached to them like part of their body.

They are protective of their friends he isnt very strong but will fight for them

He gets sometimes ghost pains in their back, the scale of pain depends of the day

ANYWAYS thats it me thinks I shall make lil comics about all the facts and other stuff other times qwq

If u read everything, thank you and hello! Hope u have a good day :D

Also sorry about the grammar and writting english is not first language and its 2 am HAHAHA

They have a hard time hidding how they really feel because the color their anthena, eyes and stars may change by how he feels

He tries to always stay calm and with right composure but he is actually very emotional, he just had learn how to manage the emotions

[your-local-hollow-lover]

Hollow Heartstrings

Summary: Grimmjow misses you crazy, and he's uncertain about how to cope with these feelings... or the unexpected desires you've ignited within him.

A/N: So, remember the poll about which character you wanted to read smut from? Well, Grimmjow won! And no, I didn't forget, I was just really busy, but today is the day I finally deliver! Yei! Hope you like it!

WARNINGS: NSFW / bruising/marking / generally light and not as explicit. Grimmjow can't do soft

AO3

--------

Grimmjow had come to care. Although he was unable to decide if what he disliked the most was that fact, or that he had flinched back when you tried to caress his bone mask, as if a single touch of yours could ruin him. It was beyond ridiculous, something Grimmjow hated to lose his temper about, yet here he was, butchering a seemingly powerful Arrancar to vent his frustration.

The fight ended just as he was starting to enjoy it. Blood trickled down the side of his pectoral, staining what was left of his torn clothes. Grimmjow snorted as he gazed at the lifeless body of the beast he had pulverized without even using his sword. Gradually, the monstrous panther claws on his hands and feet returned to their normal state.

This had been his routine for quite a while now, eating and killing to avoid thinking. There was just one tiny problem: when the ecstasy of battle faded, his mind couldn't help but drift back to you, and that dreadful moment when he decided to let you impossibly close to him. How wrong it was, how good it felt. 

And so he sought the next fight, and the next one, and the next one, expecting— if not hoping raw flesh to wash such cravings off. However, and much to his dismay, Grimmjow found that no amount of bloodshed could wash away the lingering bites that still burned on him, making his mind spin around the warmth of your skin, the beat of your heart, your nails digging into his back.

Shit. Why wasn’t he strong enough to resist it? Ah, fuck it. He didn’t need to, you’ll have to be strong enough to take it. You started it, didn’t you? Now you’ll deal with it.

- .*.*.*.

He entered through your window, his eyes scanning the unusual darkness in your room. Your scent permeated the air, filling his nostrils, causing a twisted sensation of excitement to wash over him. His instincts tore at his back in a shudder. He shouldn't feel this way in territory that wasn't his own, and yet...

"Grimmjow?" Your voice sounded weak, trembling. "What are you doing here?"

Were you sick? He took a deep breath. Didn’t smell like you were.

You let out a shaky breath he recognized in a heartbeat. Grimmjow did his best to restrain the ironclad urge to seek out whatever was making you cry and obliterate it down to the very last cell.

"What's wrong with you?" 

"I had a terrible week. My boss is killing me, my back is killing me, and— I thought you didn’t wanna come around anymore.”

He frowned as a tense sensation churned within his gut. He had been avoiding you, and you had noticed. Grimmjow hoped you wouldn't be astute enough to deduce the reasons behind his evasive actions.

“Why not?” 

Grimmjow’s voice was strong as ever, even when he spoke casually.

“I thought you just didn’t want to after what we did.” you hesitated. He could make out in the dark your indecision to continue.  “I thought maybe it was a mistake. We won’t do it again.”

He frowned, ignoring how everything in his body throbbed in aversion at what you say. In a heartbeat, he flipped you over, positioning himself above you.

“You don’t get to decide for me.”

It caught you off guard, but as you absorbed the profound craving within his gaze, it became evident Grimmjow had been struggling to comprehend his emotions and his enjoyment of them. Hollows are not made for feelings. They aren’t supposed to yearn. Yet, he stood before you, conveying through every fiber of his being that he desired it.

Your lips curled in a soft smile. “You’re right. So, do I take it as you missed me?”

“Ha! You wish. Ya still owe me a couple's favors, y'know? I'm just making' sure ya don't kick the bucket 'fore ya pay up." 

God, how you loved that smirk. 

“Then I’ll be sure to pay,” you said softly, running your fingers gently along the edge of his jaw. Grimmjow repressed a shiver. His gaze fell to your lips just before he leaned in, trapping your mouth. He kissed you with a roughness that was undeniably his own. You sighed against his lips when he deepened it. 

Grimmjow breathed heavily against you, enjoying the flickers bubbling in his blood as you traced his sides with your hands. Your nails delicately outlined his bone mask. His instincts flitted like one of those red alarm-lights in the human world, warning him: too close, too exhilarating, too good. Grimmjow growled against your lips, his teeth piercing them as he held back a moan. The taste of blood eased him.

Your fingers entwined in his hair as he pressed your body against his, suppressing any space between you. His palms eagerly roamed your torso, caressing and squeezing. His kiss was deep, messy, and still a bit inexpert. However, he managed to make it good. You pulled apart gasping for some air. Grimmjow eyed you from above. There was a mix of slyness, desire, and a half-smile that stole your breath away. 

The veins on his hands vaulted on his skin as he exerted force through the fabric of your clothes. He tore them. You didn’t care for anything that wasn’t bringing him closer. You pulled at his clothes and in one breath, Grimmjow took them off too. 

You both let out a groan as you felt skin against skin. Grimmjow stopped short, his breathing coming down to a slight vibration that sounded like a large cat purring. His jaw was clenched and his shoulders tense.

You rested your forehead against his, silently granting him space to adjust. The cold emanating from the hole in his belly seemed to suck icy air into it, it was the only way you could think of to describe it as you felt it against your skin.

“It’s alright,” you eased.

“Shut up, I know. I can take it,” he gasped. 

His hot breath close to your ear, added to the shake of his voice gave you goosebumps. You nibbled at his ear. Grimmjow cursed under his breath. He bit your shoulder before pushing the back of your tights to settle between your legs. 

His hot breath close to your ear, summed with the shake of his voice, gave you goosebumps. You nibbled at his ear. Grimmjow cursed under his breath. He bit your shoulder before pushing the back of your tights to settle between your legs. 

This was the first time Grimmjow had taken the initiative, and although it was a bit messy and desperate, you couldn't help but feel the warm sensation spreading inside your chest. As inhumane as he was, Grimmjow had come to enjoy this kind of intimacy with you. 

You spread your folds for him and sighed as he slid in. He couldn't suppress the deep groan that mixed with a purr. 

“Shit,” he whined. 

You knew exactly how much self-respect he was relinquishing for this, as his immediate reaction was to bury his face in the crook of your neck before holding you closer.

There was no space left between your bodies, and the only audible sound aside from the rain pouring on the window was Grimmjow's hitched breath. He struggled to resist simply discarding rational thinking and surrendering to the delicious fire spreading through his veins. He lost the fight as soon you started caressing the edges of his hollow hole from his back. 

Grimmjow thrust in with a loud grunt. You whimpered at the feeling of him reaching deep inside you. A tipsy smile was drawn on your face just when he picked up a pace, rough and desperate. Holding you so tight, you may've thought letting go could end him, and Grimmjow didn’t give two damns about looking weak anymore. 

It was more than perfect: sharing moans with him, his warm skin against your own, his very self moving within you, enjoying it without holding back. 

“Fuck I love it,” you breathed. “You’re fucking hot.”

Grimmjow eyed you then, wearing the darkest expression you've ever seen on him. The intensity of his gaze seemed to convey: "I own you. You're mine. You won't leave. I won’t let you. You're mine. Mine. Mine. Mine—"

He bit your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You hissed. His thrust became erratic as he quickened his pace. Grimmjow's breath grew hastier by the second, and at this point, he didn't care for the sound of his moans. He was frantic, eager for release, unaware of the force he was placing on his grip on your thighs.

You opened your legs wider, pushing him further against you so that your front rubbed against his lower belly. It was enough to tie the knot, and you came loud and long, digging your nails on his shoulder and down on his hip.

The pulsations inside you triggered his peak. His teeth dug into the flesh of your shoulder so hard it burned. A warm liquid spreading inside you eased the pain. When the bolts of pleasure finally smothered to a wonderful feeling of after-bliss, Grimmjow replaced his fangs with his lips as he pressed them onto your bruised skin, surprisingly soft.

“I’m glad you came back.” you managed after catching your breath.

Grimmjow huffed, “I never left.”

It sure as hell wasn't his intention, but that was one of the sweetest things he told you since you met.

[kabie-whump]

My CYOA Pirate Whump - All in One Post!

Length: 13k words

Warnings: captivity, child abuse mentions, burning, muzzling, magic exhaustion, (let me know if I'm missing anything)

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It’s hot. That’s all you can think about anymore. The sails used to cast a shadow over you but the sun has moved further in the sky with every passing hour and now it beams down on you relentlessly.

You’re tied to the ship’s mast on the forward side, facing out towards the endless sea in front of you. Behind you, you can hear the crew chatting and singing to pass the time as they work. A lone crewman sits nearby, tasked with guarding you.

• You chose: I was in the Queen’s navy. My captain sold me as a peace offering. -

You are Ventis Riinturuth, first son of Lord Idro Riinturuth. Your father is well known for his draconic command over storms and you have inherited this power along with a certain degree of control over the winds thanks to your air elemental mother.

This is you:

Father had always put too much pressure on you. That’s what drew you to the taverns most nights, where you would stay up into the small hours of the morning drinking with sailors, even though your tolerance would never match theirs. You called it letting off steam and bonding with your people. He called it debauchery.

Your membership in the navy was a formality more than anything else and everyone knew it. Your father had forced you to sign up, both so you could build connections within the military to prepare for your eventual leadership in the kingdom and in hopes that you might learn a little discipline.

You and your captain disliked each other from the start. You didn’t care for hard labor and he didn’t care for prissy little noble boys. You spent most of your days shirking your duties and running down the ship’s rum supply.

But then the captain discovered your powers. He noticed your command over the winds and immediately put you to use, asking you to fill the sails on dead days until it became your full time job. You thought you earned the captain’s respect for it until he sold you to pirates.

There was some kind of deal struck. Protection and a certain level of cooperation in exchange for a power that would bring them considerable strength. Navy captains aren’t supposed to make deals with pirates, but that didn’t stop your captain from handing you over.

Everything moved quickly after that. The few friends you’d made in the navy protested audibly, but they were unable to stop you from being dragged away. You were manhandled, yelling and struggling, to the pirates’ ship. Your powers flared up and sent a few flying overboard before one of them hit you hard on the back of your head and you passed out.

Then you woke up here, tied tightly to the mast.

Everything is fuzzy as you blink spots out of your eyes. Your mouth is painfully dry. Your stomach growls. Your skin burns and itches.

The pirate guarding you has a water skin at her hip. You watch longingly as she takes a long swig, wiping excess water from her lips with a refreshed sigh.

• You chose: Start a conversation with her. Try to butter her up (then ask nicely).

You open your mouth to say something charming to the pirate, but all that comes out is a choked sort of rasping sound. Your mouth is just so dry. Not charming at all. It gets her attention though.

“You’re awake,” she notes, attaching her water skin to her belt again and approaching you. “Did ya enjoy your beauty sleep?”

She’s tall - taller than you by a whole head, maybe more. Her skin is dark, her head topped with short reddish-black curls.

You chew on your tongue in an effort to generate any saliva as she looms over you. “It was refreshing” you manage to say.

You’re lying. You’re tied up and hot and thirsty and hungry and definitely concussed; the definition of a miserable little rich boy.

“Yeah, you look it,” she replies disbelievingly.

She crowds in closer, taking your face in her large, weathered hand and tilting it up towards her.

“You are a funny lookin little fella aren’t ya?”

You scoff, know it’s true. Your father’s human and dragon blood and your mother’s air elemental blood have combined to make an absolute freak of a person. Horns and sharp teeth and scales that somehow ended up morphed until they looked like gemstones laid into your pale blue skin. No one has ever had the audacity to point it out to your face though.

“Thank you,” you say dryly.

“I weren’t complimenting ya.”

You realize that she might not be the brightest pirate in the bunch.

“I know. My name is Ventis.”

“Tinny.”

“Tinny?”

“On account of the tin.” She holds up the hand that hadn’t been grabbing your face and you realize that her flesh ends at her wrist and is capped off by a shiny metal can.

“I see. Very creative.”

“It’s good for beatin people.”

“I can imagine, yes.”

Tinny nods, satisfied, and starts to turn away. “I gotta go tell the captain you’re up and yappin.”

“Wait,” you say quickly. “Might I trouble you for a sip of water?”

Tinny pauses, considering you, then shrugs and removes her water skin from her belt. She opens it and holds the spout up to you lips, tipping it until the cool water touches your skin. You drink gratefully, swallowing it down and nearly drowning yourself until she pulls it away. Then she leaves you alone.

You hadn’t gotten much and a lot had run down your face, but still you feel so much better.

You chose: Look around for anything that might help me if I can get out of these ropes.

As Tinny leaves to retrieve the captain, you decide to glance around, taking stock of your surroundings and trying to figure out if there’s anything useful nearby. You know you won’t be able to escape your bindings before the captain gets to you, but at least you’ll be able to move quickly if you happen to find yourself with a moment’s freedom.

There isn’t much around you, you realize. The forward deck is fairly empty, and there are no convient weapons left lying around like you’d hoped. A fishing net is draped over a barrel nearby and the ship’s anchor sits on a coiled pile of ropes.

Rope netting spans above you, climbing up the mast you’re tied to and leading to a platform where a pirate naps with one leg hanging off. There’s a sword next to him. A particularly strong gust of wind might knock it down, but you aren’t sure if you can control where it lands, especially in your weakened state.

That’s all the information you can collect before a tiefling man strolls in front of you with Tinny close behind.  He’s tall too, not as tall as Tinny but you still have to look up to see his eyes.

His has leathery red skin and dark hair tied back under his wide brimmed hat, which has two holes cut in it to accommodate his horns.

“Erxik,” he says in a thick infernal accent. “I am the captain here. This is my ship, the Fortune. My first mate, Tinny. And you are my prisoner. Tell me your name, boy.”

You chose: Tell him your first name, but keep the family name a secret.

“Ventis,” you say.

You have the urge to present your family name like you usually do, but it you hold your tongue. You imagine it won’t have the same effect here as it does elsewhere. If anything, you might be in even more danger if these pirates find out who your father is. Unless your old captain had said something, for all the pirates know you’re just some unlucky bastard from the navy.

Erxik nods shortly. “Ventis,” he mimics. “Your captain told me that you are force of nature. That you will make my ship fly across these waters faster than any others. Is this true?”

You had been using your wind magic to help your ship along before you were sold. But you’d been doing it out of a desire to be liked and respected, and even with regular food and water and a comfortable place to sleep it had been an exhausting ordeal.

You don’t really care if these pirates like you so far.

“I have a particular relationship with the wind, yes,” you say, keeping your voice neutral.

Erxik smiles. “You will turn the winds in our favor, then. That is your purpose here.”

You stare at him. Does he really think you’re just going to use your powers to help pirates?

“This,” he continues, gesturing at the ropes binding you to the mast, “is just precaution. I did not want you to fly away, if that is something you can do.”

It is, but it takes a significant amount of energy.

“I am willing to discuss possibility of more comfortable accommodations, if you are willing to behave.”

You chose: I’ll do what he says, but I demand food, water, and a bed inside first.

“I want a bed. Below deck. Also food and water. Then I will consider helping you.”

Erxik growls, deep in the back of his throat. Behind him, Tinny shakes her head at you, mouthing “watch it, kid.”

You gasp as Erxik’s hand shoots out, grabbing your face. “You don’t make demands,” Erxik says, his claws digging into your cheeks. “Not when you have given me nothing. Fill my sails. Only then will we discuss your wants.”

A whimper escapes you as you stare up at the tiefling, wide eyed. He seemed so calm moments ago. He must have a short fuse.

He’s scary, but you hold your ground. “Those are my terms,” you say, your voice coming out garbled through your squished cheeks. “Take them or leave them.”

He lets go of you and you get a second of relief before his fist collides with your face. Your head whips to the side. Black spots swim in your vision.

You stay where his fist left you for a moment, gasping for air before you finally bring your face back around. Your neck and jaw ache. The side of your face feels hot, and you watch with horror as Erxik uses the bottom of his red coat to wipe your blood off his rings.

“You will stay here until you decide to cooperate,” he says. “No food. No water.”

He starts to walk away.

You chose: Nooow I’ll start crying and begging.

You’ve done a good job putting on a brave face so far. But Erxik just hit you and no one other than your father has ever dared to do that and you’re hungry and hot and exhausted and the ropes are chafing your skin and you just want to go home.

“Please,” you whimper as Erxik starts to walk away.

He turns around, his face set in a hard glare. “What was that?”

Your vision goes blurry with tears. “Please, just let me go.”

He stalks back over to you. His hand shoots out towards your face and you flinch hard, but the pain never comes. Instead, his thumb wipes over the stinging spot on your cheek and you watch with disgust as he licks your blood off of it.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, his voice low.

I can give you money,” you offer, your voice shaking. “If you just take me home-“

“You’re already going to make my pockets plenty heavy. I don’t need to empty to meager stores of some little soldier.”

The tears finally fall and you turn your face to the side, embarrassed. “I promise I won’t make any trouble for you,” you whisper. “I’ll be good. Just please, take me home.”

Erxik scoffs, shaking his head. “Nice try, pretty boy. You were far too expensive to let off the hook now.”

He steps away again, clearly done with you despite your quiet sobs and whispered pleas.

“Tinny, find someone else to watch him. Make sure he is never without eyes on him.”

“Aye aye,” Tinny says with a casual salute.

The captain leaves you alone with Tinny. She walks over to the balcony, looking down at the lower deck with a searching gaze.

Maybe you can try to get her to help you? She showed some mercy before when she gave you water. That was before her captain explicitly forbade it, but still it probably meant something that she wasn’t outright cruel to you.

But she’s the first mate. She might not be the best person to ask to betray her captain to help you, a total stranger.

You chose: Beg for Tinny’s help. What do I have to lose? -

You crane your head to watch as Tinny leans on the railing and waves her arms at someone. “Hey! Blondie! Come up here!” she shouts.

Then she returns to you, checking over your restraints.

“Please,” you whisper, making an effort to sound as pitiful as possible. “Please, Tinny. Help me. We can even make it look like an accident. Just leave the ropes a little loose. I’ll slip out on my own tonight. You will not be blamed.”

Tinny raises an eyebrow. “Then what would ya do, hm? We’re miles from land.”

Shit, she’s right. You might be able to gather the strength to fly away, but you’ll probably fall out of the sky before you find land. You’re not the strongest swimmer.

You try and fail to suppress a frustrated sob. “I don’t know. But please, I need help.”

“Sorry, kid. No can do.”

A thudding of footsteps draws her attention behind you. “Gotta job for ya, blondie. Watch the prisoner. Captain says no food and no water till he decides to cooperate.”

“Understood.” The ‘blondie’ in question enters your line of sight, looking at you with open curiosity.

Damn it. He’s attractive. Tall, muscular, rugged but not filthy. He has tanned skin and ivy green eyes and a splash of freckles across his flushed skin. Pointy ears poke out from a halo of curly blond hair.

“Hi,” he says to you. “I’m Onthyes.”

“Ventis,” you return shakily, trying to will the tears on your face to evaporate.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Tinny says, clapping Onthyes’s shoulder. “Don’t let the little freak of nature outta your sight. And don’t let him talk ya into nothin.”

“I won’t,” he assures her.

She leaves you two alone and Onthyes has a seat on a nearby crate. He’s still staring at you. It’s getting unnerving.

“Do I have something on my face?” you snap, your voice still thick with tears.

Onthyes jumps, shaking his head quickly. “No! Well yes, actually. You’re a bit bloody.” He stands and walks over to you. There’s a wet rag slung over his shoulder. He must have been cleaning something before this. He grabs the rag and holds it up to your face, stopping before it touches you.

“Can I clean it off?”

You chose: Yes please.

The wet cloth is rough against your raw cheek and you wince.

"Sorry," Onthyes mutters, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn streak of blood. "It kind of got stuck in your... your scales? Is that what they are?"

"Yes," you say, still not quite sure what to make of this guy. He's huge, big enough to snap you in half easily if he wants to, but his demeanor seems gentle enough. Besides, if he's unfriendly he probably wouldn't have asked to clean the blood off your face, right?

"What are you? If you don't mind me asking."

"Half-goblin," you answer sarcastically.

He stares at you, wide eyed. "Really?"

You scoff. "No. Did you really believe me? Am I that ugly?"

"No, not at all! You're... you're not ugly at all." He finishes cleaning the blood off your face and steps back, tucking the rag into his belt. "Forget it. You're navy, right? I used to wear that uniform too, before they kicked me out."

"That's right."

Aside from being a pirate you get a fairly innocent vibe from Onthyes. You wonder what he did to be booted from the military.

"At least you won't get too homesick while you're here then, right? Since you're probably used to it already."

That's stupidly optimistic. You imagine being tied up and at the mercy of pirates is going to make you miss home way more than serving in the navy had. "Yeah, I guess..."

Onthyes seems to get the hint that you aren't in the mood for a Q&A session and he sits down again, fiddling with a beaded bracelet around his wrist. The sun is setting, casting an orange glow all around you.

You slump into your bindings, sticking your legs out in front of you and leaning back against the mast, trying to get comfortable enough to get some sleep. It helps that it's a calm night, the rocking of the boat pulling you under.

When you wake the next morning your head aches. Your mouth is painfully dry. You crack your eyes open to see Onthyes sitting nearby, snacking on some stale bread. You can't help but crave it, even though the version of you two days ago might rather go hungry than tolerate a low quality meal. Even in the navy you'd find ways to cater to your particular tastes.

You groan, struggling to sit up a little straighter. Onthyes looks up. "Oh, you're awake. Captain told me to ask you if you're ready to cooperate. "

You chose: Sure. I’m pretty hungry.

You sigh, stubbornly avoiding eye contact with Onthyes. “Fine,” you say. “But I want to eat.”

Onthyes grins, looking relieved. “I’ll get the captain. Don’t go anywhere.”

He runs off and returns moments later with Erxik in tow. The captain is smiling triumphantly, but noticeably doesn’t have any food in hand.

“I’m hungry,” you complain.

“Ah- Don’t worry, freak. You’ll eat after you fulfill your end of the deal.”

Ugh. Fine. Your powers aren’t easy to use with your body weakened like this, but you can at least show him that you intend to help him.

You close your eyes, focusing on breathing as deeply as you can with ropes pressing down on your chest. You feel the air around you filling your body; feel the meager power of forcing it all out when you exhale. You are a force of nature.

The winds bend to your will, growing in strength and making the ship’s sails fill out impressively. The ship lurches forward. You can vaguely hear Erxik yelling out instructions to his crew, but it’s lost under the throbbing headache that has started to develop behind your eyes.

You can’t keep this up for very long. You hear Erxik urging you to give him more, his hand patting your cheek in an attempt to keep you conscious. You open your eyes. His face fills your vision but it’s fuzzy and your mouth tastes like copper.

“Come on, boy! You’re not done yet!”

Your whole body aches. You feel like you’re going to pass out if you don’t stop. You’ve never pushed yourself this far before.

You chose: Yes! Father didn’t raise a quitter. -

You're exhausted but you choose to push yourself even harder, squeezing your eyes closed. Controlling the winds is your birthright. You shouldn't have to struggle for it.

You can feel your whole body trembling. The pain has spread from your head through the rest of your body, a sensation like being prodded with thousands of needles. Under the roaring of wind you can hear yourself crying out.

"This has to stop, captain! He can't-"

"Silence, boy."

"But he-"

"I said shut it!"

You can't get enough air. It's like your magic is pulling the very breath from your lungs. You gasp and cough, the metalic taste getting stronger as you spit out blood.

Rough hands grab your face, tilting your head back. "Kid? Open your eyes."

You can't. Your eyelids are too heavy. An open palm slaps you across the cheek and even that doesn't bring you any closer to awareness.

"Alright. You're done. Stop it."

You can't do that either. You've opened the dam that holds your magic at bay too wide and you don't have the energy to close it again. You can feel your life force draining away...

~

When you wake up it's in small waves of realization. First, you're horizontal, not tied sitting up like you have been so far. There's a thin mattress under you and a blanket covering you. Your hands are cuffed together and resting on your stomach.

You pry your eyes open. The room is small and dark except for the soft orange light of a lantern. Sitting at your bedside is Onthyes.

He looks up, smiling when he sees you awake. "Thank the gods. I wasn't sure if you've make it. You've been out for a whole day and night."

You groan, your throat painfully dry.

"Here." Onthyes helps you sit up, and a clinking sound catches your attention. There's a length chain attached to your cuffs that reaches out and connects to a similar cuff around Onthyes's left wrist. 

He holds a cup of water to your lips, letting you drink your fill before he gives you some bread and jerky. You're able to feed yourself with your bound hands, but the chain connecting you and Onthyes serves as a constant distraction.

"Why are we chained together?" you ask when you're finished eating.

"Captain doesn't want you unsupervised for even a second now that you aren't tied up. And he said I'd discourage any escape attempts, since my body would be too heavy for you to lug around if you decide to kill me."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "I could cut off your hand."

Onthyes winces. "Please don't do that."

You hum, not making any promises. You're not even sure you're capable of doing something like that, but he doesn't need to know that.

You chose: Make friends with the crew. Try to get them on my side.

After almost a full day of resting, you're forced to follow Onthyes as he goes to get food. You still aren't sure how this whole being handcuffed together thing is supposed to work. Is he going to sleep on your floor tonight? Or will he take off the cuff and lock you in your room when its time to sleep?

You follow a few paces behind him as he gets food and rum for both of you and then heads up onto the deck where most of the crew has gathered to eat. Climbing the ladder is awkward with your bound hands but with a little help from Onthyes you manage it without falling.

"Onthyes! Over here!"

You find the source of the voice easily, a hulking dragonborn woman with greenish scales. She's sitting with some others: a red-haired halfling woman and human man with a mouthful of silver teeth that glint in the moonlight as he tears into a chunk of salted pork.

You and Onthyes join them, sitting on some crates. You notice that this group seems somewhat cut off from the rest of the crew, almost purposefully excluded from the roaring jokes and taunts that are being passed around. Misfits amongst misfits. You feel pretty confident you can gain their favor.

"Damn," the halfling woman chuckles. "Tin told me you got yourself shackled to the prisoner. Didn't realize she meant it literally."

"My name is Ventis," you say, extending your bound hands awkwardly to shake hers.

"Hildris." She stretches to reach you and shakes both of your hands with both of hers. "These two are Golkulildyth the Mighty and John."

"Pleasure."

Onthyes puts some food in your hands. You set it down in your lap and instead reach out for the bottle of rum he'd grabbed for you, and he passes it over.

As soon as you set your food down it's snatched from your lap. A man stands over you, his long brown hair tied back in intracite knots. He grins, taking a big bite and chewing with his mouth open. "You weren't gonna eat this, were you, freak?"

The others sitting around you have gone quiet, pertending to be interested in anything other than what's going on with you. They're either terrified of this guy, or they aren't willing to risk their necks to help a captive.

"Actually-"

"Good. Thanks for sharing."

He starts to turn his back, your dinner still in his hands.

You chose: Confront him. I was going to eat that.

You're on your feet in an instant. "Hey! That's mine."

The man stops, his smile falling as he turns around to face you.

Behind you Onthyes gives a light tug on your chain. "Ventis, don't-"

You ignore him. You worked hard to earn that food and you're not going to let some asshole take it from you just because he's twice your size and armed and not chained up.

"What was that?" The man asks, his voice low. He drops your food on the ground and stalks over to you, grabbing hold of the chain that trails from your bound wrists and yanking you closer until you're nose to nose. "Did you say something, pretty boy?"

His breath is hot in your face. A glance at his bared, crooked teeth reveals haphazardly sharpened fangs. You can't help but scoff. Your own fangs are pure genetics, but not everyone can be as blessed as you are.

You do your best to look brave, glaring up at him even as you realize that you may have seriously fucked up. "I was eating that," you say. You carefully and slowly annunciate each word, like you're not sure he'll understand otherwise. "Get. Your. Own."

Your head whips to the side and you fall against the pile of crates you had been sitting on before you can even process what's happening. You blink slowly, squinting up at a spiraling image of the man standing over you and pulling his leg back-

His boot slams into your ribs hard and your pained cry quickly breaks off into rough coughing. He kicks you again, and again, and again wile you try and curl into yourself protectively. You can hear Onthyes yelling something but it's lost under the persistant ringing in your ears.

It takes you a moment to realize that it's stopped. Hands grab you under your armpits, lifting you to your feet. The man's form is blurry as he walks away. You shove away whoever is holding you and take a few stumbling steps forward, an involuntary growl bubbling up from your chest. It's not always easy to suppress your draconic instincts, but right now you don't really want to anyway. He's not winning this. You won't let him.

With your hands bound you can't use most of your spells, but the nice things about getting your magic from a dragon ancestor is that your breath is fair game for conducting your powers. You inhale deeply. Lightning crackles along your body and gathers in your lungs.

Just as you go to unleash a blast of electricity from your lungs to disintegrate this fucker, something clamps over your mouth and locks behind your head. Your teeth dig into bitter tasting rubber that covers your mouth fully. The lightning rebounds back into your lungs and you let out a muffled scream, your knees buckling as painful coughs wrack your body.

Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you up as you threaten to crumble to the ground. It's Onthyes, you realize. He's muttering something into your ear -  "I'm sorry. I really didn't want to do that. Please stop fighting you're just going to make it worse."

You slump into his arms, exhausted and in pain. He muzzled you. You can't believe he fucking muzzled you. Where did he even get this thing?

"What the fuck is goin on here?" Tinny pushes through the crowed that had gathered while that pirate was beating you. She grabs the man by the collar, and it's almost funny how he suddenly looks so small. "What didya do this time, Rye?"

"The prisoner started it!" Rye stammers. "I was teaching it a little lesson, and it tried to kill me!"

Tinny looks over at you, now muzzled and being held back by Onthyes. She rolls her eyes then turns her attention back to the crowd. "All of you, no beatin on the prisoner! Don't make me say it again! Now fuck off. Fun's over."

She lets Rye go and the pirates disperse.

Then Tinny is standing over you and you can't help but shrink back, a primal sort of growl rumbling in your throat. "Don't pull that shit again, kid," she says in a low voice. "I don't care what my crew does to ya. Save that freaky magic for when the captain needs ya using it. Got it?"

"Rye took his food and beat him up," Onthyes defends. "You can't blame him-"

"Rye's a sadistic piece of shit and I hate him as much as you do, but Ventis is still a prisoner. He doesn't deserve to defend himself. If you really don't wanna see him gettin hurt you gotta defend him yourself, got it?"

Onthyes nods, looking a little unsure. "I'll do my best."

"Good. Now I don't wanna hear any more trouble from you two tonight. Captain and I got big plans brewin. We'll need you alert and ready to perform tomorrow, freak."

You nod and Tinny walks away. Onthyes and his friends generously give you portions of their food, since yours has been seized by rats already. You get the sense you've earned their respect, but you've made a powerful enemy out of Rye.

You chose: Raiding a merchant ship that's too fast for other ships to catch.

You sleep well that night. Really well. And you only spend a little while silently debating if it would be worth it to strangle Onthyes with the chain that binds the two of you together.

You wouldn't be able to carry his weight, you decide. You'd have to find something to cut off his hand with, and he purposefully left his weapons elsewhere before he laid down next to you. You'd have to drag him out into the belly of the ship searching for a sharp object, and considering how slow you would be moving someone would surely catch you.

Magic is out of the picture too. Your muzzle had been removed so you could eat but after that it was locked around your head again. You can still use your wind magic muzzled, but you don't think it can do much to help you here.

So you sleep next to Onthyes, both of you careful not to roll around too much and risk getting tangled in the chain. It's a cold night and he's really warm, and in the morning neither of you mention how you'd woken up curled into his chest.

The two of you have breakfast together, and this time Onthyes pockets your muzzle instead of putting it back on you.

"Don't make me use it again," he pleads, reaching out to wipe away some dirt that had gathered under the muzzle with his thumb.

You stretch your jaw. Your throat is still sore from yesterday, when an entire lightning bolt had rebounded back into your lungs.

"Let me see your ribs," Onthyes says then.

Sighing, you lift your shirt, trying not to be too aware of the other pirates milling around the deck. There's a myriad of boot shaped bruises spanning across your ribs and stomach. They'd been red when Onthyes looked at them last night, but now they're a deep, ugly purple.

He winces. "Ouch."

"That about sums it up," you say, pulling your shirt back down.

There's a whistle from above you. You and Onthyes look up towards the wheel, where Tinny is waving you over. You and Onthyes climb the ladder to the upper level.

"We're puttin ya to work today, kid," Tinny says, leading you over to where the captain stands at the wheel.

Erxik points at a tiny speck on the horizon. "That there's the merchant ship Elesyia. One of the fastest there is. You're going to help us catch her."

You squint against the harsh sunlight reflecting off the sea. "Easy enough."

You take a step back, putting some space between you and the others. You hold your bound hands out and the winds rush through you, bringing with them a rush of adrenaline. It's so much easier this time, now that you're fed and well rested. The ship lurches forward, the sails filling with a fwomp sound.

You're concentrating hard on keeping control over the winds, but you can hear Erxik talking to Onthyes. "As soon as we catch her you take him below and keep him there, got it?"

"You don't want me fighting, captain?"

"He's too valuable of an asset. We can't risk anything happening to him. Keep him below."

"Understood."

You keep your eyes closed, swaying slightly with the wind currents as you conduct them like a natural orchestra. It's easy to fall into a sort of trance doing this, until you can almost feel your body dissolving into the air around you. You feel insubstantial, but not weak. More cloud than flesh.

Then your concentration is shattered by the boom of cannons. Your eyes fly open as Onthyes grabs you by your shoulders and starts dragging you away. Your thoughts feel cloudy and scattered, your feet struggling to find solid purchase on the deck. You stumble and Onthyes catches you.

He grabs your face, trying to get you to look at him. You can't force your eyes to focus.

"Ventis, snap out of it! We gotta move!" His voice almost doesnt carry over all the yelling and clashing of swords and booming of cannons.

"I..." You shake your head, starting to come back to yourself. "What?"

"Come on!"

He manages to get you to the lower deck. The other pirates are busy firing arrows or leaping to the deck of the Elesyia or manning cannons. It's chaos.

You chose: Follow him mindlessly.

"Ventis, watch out!"

Everything is still fuzzy from spending so long with your consciousness embedded in the wind currents. You can see and hear all the chaos around you, but it's like you're moving and thinking in slow motion.

Onthyes grabs you and yanks you to the side as an arrow wizzes past your face. You blink slowly at him. With a frusterated sigh, Onthyes effortlessly scoops you into his arms.

"Hey," you mumble sleepily. Your attempt to shove at his chest ends up as nothing but a weak thump against firm muscle shielded by sun-warmed fabric. "Put me down."

He ignores you, running towards the door that heads below deck. You almost make it unharmed.

There's a clear cry of pain from the other ship. Onthyes stops, turning to see Hildris, his halfling friend, being cornered by some soldiers. She's backed against the railing and clutching a bleeding wound in her side.

You can feel how badly Onthyes wants to run to her aid. He hesitates by the door, feet frozen in place. You say nothing.

Then another wizz of an arrow, and pain explodes in your shoulder. You cry out, suddenly back to full awareness.

"No," Onthyes hisses as he carries you inside. He sets you down in a dimly lit passegeway, staring wide eyed at the arrow sticking out of your shoulder. "Shit. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to control your gasps for air. "It hurts," you growl.

"I know. I'm sorry."

He pulls a knife from his belt, carefully cutting away the fabric of your sleeve to get a better look at the wound.

"I have some healing experience. I'll take care of you, okay? Just try to breathe."

You nod, focusing most of your energy into not bursting into tears. The pain comes in viscous waves, throbbing through your whole body.

The only sounds are yours and Onthyes's heavy breathing, accompanied by the occasional yells or cannon booms from outside, as Onthyes examines your shoulder.

"I have to take it out," he says softly, apologetically.

You can't help but let out a whimper. "It can't just stay there?"

"I'm afraid not."

Your head thumps back against the wooden wall. "Fuuuck. Fine. Do it fast."

With a short nod Onthyes positions himself so he's pinning you to the wall with one knee. He gets your muzzle out of his pocket and offers it with a raised eyebrow.

You glare at him, but you understand what he means. You'll need to bite down on something, and the rubber piece on the inside that fits between your teeth when you're wearing it would do the job nicely. Sighing, you let him muzzle you.

"I'll take it off when I'm done," he promises. "Now try not to move. I'm going to be as gentle as I can but you have to stay still for me."

You nod, looking anywhere but at him as he cleans his knife.

Your vision goes white when he starts working the arrow out of your shoulder. Your screams are muffled by the muzzle. You can't help but squirm and flinch away, your legs kicking out ueslessly, and Onthyes's knee pins your chest down hard. Your bruised ribs ache.

His blade digs deep into your skin, working around the arrowhead so he can pull it out without causing any more damage. He whispers apologies the whole time but you can bearly hear him over the roaring in your ears.

Finally he drops the knife and grabs hold of the arrow, bracing one hand on your shoulder. He pulls hard, and you black out.

When you come to he's kneeling in front of you, his eyes full of worry as he removes the muzzle. There's fabric wadded up and tied to the hole in your shoulder.

"There you are," he says. "That's better, isn't it?"

It still hurts, but at least there isn't anything sticking out of you anymore. "Yes. Thank you."

He settles between you and the door, his back against the wall. You can tell he's anxious, listening to every yell from outside closely. "Now we wait, I guess. It's weird, I'm not used to sitting around while my friends fight."

You chose: Ask him why he got kicked out of the navy.

You slump against the wall with a tired sigh. Using your magic and then getting shot with an arrow had you exhausted.

Onthyes sits next to the door, listening to the fight intently.

“Worried about your friend?” you ask.

He glances at you. “Yeah. I am. I know they’re criminals but most of them aren’t bad people.”

“You’re a criminal too,” you tease. “You’re in no position to judge.”

Onthyes shrugs. “Being a pirate was never a life I envisioned for myself.”

“You were in the navy, right? What happened?”

“I got kicked out.”

You roll your eyes. “So you said. But why?”

“Refusing to follow orders. The things my captain was doing… I didn’t agree with them. I always try to do as I’m told, but he wanted me to hurt people who had done nothing wrong and I just couldn’t do it. He left me for dead, and I was lucky enough for Erxik to find me and take pity on me.”

“Corrupt captains seem to be a running trend in the navy, hm? My captain sold me to yours.”

Onthyes nods. “That wasn’t the first time I’ve seen deals made between the two. It’s fairly common.”

You sigh. This is something you’ll need to report to your father if you ever make it home.

An idea occurs to you then. Onthyes seems to be a good person. He doesn’t even want to be a pirate, and he seems unhappy with the corruption in the military. Maybe you could use this to your advantage.

You could tell him that your father can do something about the corruption if he helps you get home, but that would require revealing your identity, which you have kept secret so far. Also, getting Onthyes involved in your escape could get both of you in serious trouble if you’re caught.

You chose: Nothing. I'll try to form a stronger bond with him before I ask for help.

You and Onthyes sit together below deck as the sounds of fighting dwindle down. You're dizzy and cold from blood loss, but he seems confident that you're going to survive.

Sunlight blinds you as the door opens and John beckons the two of you outside. His nose is bleeding, but he looks fine otherwise.

"Hildris?" Onthyes asks as he helps you to your feet.

"She's a tough one, laddie," John says, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "A wee stab wound is nothin she can't handle."

"Thank the gods. I wanted to help but..."

"Your charge here is more important, accordin to the captain. Shame that Rye's gonna beat your kill record now. It'll go right to the bastard's head."

Onthyes winces. "I don't mind. It suits him better than me."

Nearby, Hildris is sitting atop a crate while a young elven woman presses her hands to the wound in her side, chanting a soft melody. Her hands glow gold, and Hildres lets out a contented sigh.

"Who is that?" you whisper.

"Tiria," Onthyes replies, leading you over to her. "She's a healer. We picked her up a few months ago. Found her stranded on an island."

You stop short, glaring at him as you pull on the chain, forcing him to stop and look at you.

"What?"

"There has been a healer on board this whole time and I have never met her? What about when I got the shit beat out of me? My ribs have been killing me and they could have just been magically healed?"

A breeze swirls around you, making Onthyes's clothes flap around where he'd torn them to make a bandage for your arm.

"She doesn't want us asking her for healing unless it's an emergency. She doesn't like to tire herself on scrapes and bruises when someone could break a bone or be impaled any second."

"Are my broken ribs not an emergency?"

Onthyes sighs. "They're probably only bruised, Ventis. Rye wasn't even wearing his kicking boots."

You glance over at where Rye is showing off his newest trophy - a severed finger. On his feet, his blood-soaked boots are capped with thick metal spikes.

"I see."

You allow Onthyes to lead you to Tiria. She eyes you with a bored expression as she cleans blood off her hands. "Let's see it."

Onthyes unwraps the makeshift bandages from your upper arm. "He got hit with an arrow," he explains. "Barbed head. I cut it out as soon as we were safe."

You do your best to sit still as Tiria examines the wound. She pokes it with her long fingers and it takes all of your self control to not flinch away from the pain.

"Not bad, Onthyes," she remarks. "Clean cuts. You'd make a good surgeon."

"Um... thanks."

Her fingers dig a little deeper into the wound and you see a look of morbid fascination cross her face. "Your blood is... bubbly," she murmurs. "Interesting."

"Air genasi thing. Can you just heal me?" you grind out through your teeth.

"Hmph. Alright."

She starts singing and the pain fades away, replaced with a tingling warmth that spreads through your whole body. You sigh, your muscles relaxing for the first time in forever.

As she works, you watch the rest of the crew bring in the spoils. Crates and crates of supplies and merchandise. The civilians and remaining guards that weren't killed in the fight are left tied up on their own ship. You can feel the excitement of the pirates around you; can hear the whispers about how this is by far the best haul they've ever had.

And it's all thanks to you.

They're never letting you go now.

The next few weeks go similarly. A few days of downtime followed by Erxik calling you in for a task that requires you to use your magic. The crew of the Fortune enjoy a new era of wealth and power thanks to their use of your abilities.

You stay chained to Onthyes, but it gets easier to manage and it turns out that the two of you coexist pretty well considering how different you are. It helps that he's extremely comfortable to sleep next to. You warm up to his friends as well, and the next time Rye tries to fuck with you he only gets a few punches in before Golkulildyth the Mighty glares at him as she stands to her full eight feet of height and he backs down.

So things are going well, all things considered.

One night, you and Onthyes are preparing to go down for bed when you hear Rye's voice. His voice is low like he's trying to whisper, but the wind just so happens to carry it right to your ear.

You pause, pulling on the chain to halt Onthyes and signaling for him to be quiet.

"Captain's got all this wealth now thanks to the little freak," he says. "But the rest of us ain't seen none of it."

"I hear ya." This one's a woman's voice, deep and raspy. Tinny. "But ya can't go pressin him about it, alright? Captain ain't keen on sharin. You know that."

"Something's gonna change, Tin. If he don't start feeling generous soon we're gonna have to take matters into our own hands."

"Yer not talkin mutiny. I won't hear that."

"Ya didn't. I never said the word. I never said nothin."

You hear footsteps, and you and Onthyes hurry below deck.

You chose: I'll talk to Rye tomorrow. I want in on the mutiny, but only if I'm set free.

The next day, you try to approach Rye during breakfast. You only make it a few steps in his direction before Onthyes stops you.

"What are you doing?"

"I would like to talk to Rye about what we overheard last night," you remind him. You had told him of your intentions last night as you laid next to each other, but he had seemed dismissive of the idea.

"Are you crazy? He'll hurt you."

"You will not let him."

"Ventis..."

You start walking again. Onthyes hesitates but he still moves with you this time, allowing you to approach Rye, who is sitting with a few of his friends.

"Pardon me," you say, meeting Rye's gaze. "Can we talk?"

Rye's eyes widen with surprise before he barks out a laugh. "The pretty boy wants to talk, huh?" He rises to his full height, cracking his knuckles, and you take an involuntary step back. "Looking to play punchin bag for me again?"

"I overheard you and Tinny talking last night."

Rye freezes, then snatches the collar of your shirt and lifts until your toes just barely touch the ground. "Shut your fucking mouth," he hisses in your face. "Another word and I knock your teeth out."

Your breath catches in your throat but you press on, praying that if things get too bad Onthyes will step in.

"I want in," you whisper. "I want to help. I think this can become a mutually beneficial situation if you are open to civility between us."

"Why the fuck would you wanna be part of this?"

"You are tired of being used by Erxik? So am I. We are on the same side here."

"And what are ya lookin for in return?"

"Freedom. I help you take down Erxik, and you let me go."

Rye laughs in your face. "Why would I set ya free? Ain't no point in me becomin Captain if we lose your magic. I'm gonna keep ya here and you're gonna serve me just like ya serve him."

You chose: I'll threaten to tell the captain about his plans if he doesn't include me.

You tilt your chin up, fixing Rye with a hard stare.

"Ventis..." Onthyes warns behind you.

You feel lightning crackle across your clenched fingers as you try to seem as threatening as possible. "I could always tell Erxik what you are planning," you whisper.

Rye's face darkens. He grabs your jaw, squeezing painfully hard. "And I could always cut out your tongue, freak," he spits.

You can't help but flinch. Over the time you've been here Rye has proven time and time again that he's not afraid of any consequences that might come from hurting you. You still have bruises from the last time he decided he didn't like your face.

Still, he may have hit you a lot but he's never maimed you. He knows better than to damage the captain's favorite tool. "You will not," you challenge.

"Ya think so?" The hand holding you by the collar moves to wrap around your throat, gripping you tight.

You let out a strangled gasp, reaching up to grip his wrists. Your eyes tear up involuntarily. "Stop," you wheeze, your cheeks squished by his hold.

He squeezes harder. Black spots fill your vision.

"That's enough, Ryley."

The hands release you and you collapse to the deck, gasping and coughing. You look up to see Onthyes standing over you and looking all the part of a knight in shining armor as he puts himself between you and Rye.

"Come on," Onthyes mutters, lifting you to your feet. "You tried. Let's go."

Rye lets the two of you walk away, but you can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull.

This is bad. If he succeeds at mutiny now, he's probably going to treat you even worse than the current captain does. But if you go to Erxik now and Rye finds out, he might kill you. If you do go to Erxik, you can only hope that he kills Rye before anything happens to you.

You chose: Do nothing. Let it play out and wait for a chance to turn things in your favor.

You and Onthyes end up alone on an upper deck later that night. You sit close together, staring up at flickering starlight and listening to muffled revelry from the other pirates somewhere behind and below.

"We should really tell the Captain what Rye's doing," Onthyes says, glancing over at you. "You should tell him. Maybe he'll cut you some slack."

You shrug. "I cannot help but feel like I have some sort of opportunity here. I do not know what exactly, but this mutiny could be good for me."

"But if Rye takes charge..."

"I know." You shudder, imagining what kind of torture Rye could put you through as Captain. "It is worth the risk. It has to be."

Onthyes fiddles with the chain that connects the two of you. "I just... don't like seeing you get hurt."

You can't help but laugh, wind picking up and swirling playfully through your hair. "Are you not intended to be my jailer, Onthyes? You keep me tied up. You muzzle me every night. And yet here you are saying that you... What? You care for me?"

"I can't help it." You look over, and Onthyes's face is flushed a peachy red. "I see someone in pain who doesn't deserve to be and I just... I think I'm not not meant for this stuff. I was too soft for the navy. I'm definitely too soft to be a pirate. It just so happens to be that being strong and swinging a sword are the only things I'm good for, and believe it or not there aren't too many other places where someone can make a living with only a blade."

You lean towards him until your shoulders press together. "There is a place for you somewhere. You are not useless and you are not trapped."

He looks down at you. His eyes are so much greener with his face all flushed. "What other options do I have? I was kicked out of the navy. I'd rather never go home at all than go home in shame."

"There are other options. You could travel, perhaps. Become a bodyguard for a merchant caravan. Or an adventurer, maybe."

Onthyes chuckles. "Could you imagine that? Me chasing dragons up and down mountains until I die an untimely death?"

You look away, huffing. "I do not see what is so silly about it."

"It's a thing of storybooks. Most adventurers don't make it very far."

"Well, you do not come across as the average glory-seeking drunkard. Besides, I never said you would be doing it on your own. I mean, there is no need to chase dragons on foot when you have a friend who can fly."

"A friend? Do you... see me as your friend?"

"I do spend every moment by your side. And you seem to care for me well enough, so..."

You look up at Onthyes again, and he has some gooey look on his face that makes you giggle. He really is such a softy.

"What do you say, then?" you ask softly. "Chase dragons with me?"

You can tell that he knows what you're really asking: for him to abandon his crew and help you escape. He seems to imagine it for a moment, a silly, hopeful look in his eyes.

Then, "It's a nice thought, but I'm afraid things are more complicated than that. Dreams don't make us any less stuck here."

You chose: Ask him to run away with me if the chance arrives.

You look up into Onthyes's eyes. You know all too well what it's like to feel trapped, and he's clearly been there too. You realize that you don't just want to escape anymore. You want to take him with you.

"Maybe... If we get the chance, we could get out of here. Together."

He blinks down at you, taken aback. "That's really what you want? I kinda figured you just want to get away from me."

You shrug. "I did. Now I do not. You are too charming for your own good, Onthyes."

He laughs. His face is still so flushed you start to worry he could be feverish.

Then he leans in. His lips get so close to yours.

And you pull away. You can't afford the distraction right now.

He sits up straight, clearing his throat and looking away from you pointedly. "I'd um... I'd like that. If we get the chance, let's go off on our own."

"Yes," you agree, brushing off your clothes as you stand. "It's rather late. We should turn in."

Things get quiet over the next few days. You consider going to Erxik and telling him about Rye's plan multiple times, but something always stops you. You can't shake the feeling that the mutiny might be a good thing for you, that the chaos of it might give you a chance to escape this ship if you play your cards right.

It happens late at night. You and Onthyes wake up to the sound of yelling from above. You're muzzled, as you always are at night to reduce the risk of you using any spells while Onthyes sleeps.

Onthyes is on high alert instantly, sitting up in bed. "Something's happening."

It takes a moment for your groggy brain to catch up, but you quickly realize that the mutiny must have arrived. If you stay down here you'll surely miss out on the chaos. You need to get involved if you want any chance to benefit from it.

You get out of bed, trying to pull Onthyes towards the door by your shared chain. He doesn't even shift. "What are you doing? It's probably dangerous out there."

You glare at him, grumbling something through your muzzle. Frustrated, you reach up and try to rip it off your face, but it stays firmly clasped over your mouth.

Onthyes gestures you over with a sigh. You go to him and sink to your knees in front of him, lowering your head so he can unlock it and take it off. He uses his shirt to dry off the drool that had soaked the rubber mouthpiece before placing the muzzle on the bedside table.

"We should go up there," you say firmly.

"That's a bad idea."

You suppress a hiss but don't manage to stop yourself from baring your teeth at him.

"The mutiny's happening," you say through gritted teeth. "We should go up there. Unless you want Rye to be in charge from now on?"

"That... would be bad."

"Yes, exactly. Let's go."

With a sigh, he goes above deck with you.

It's a clear night, moonlight shining down on the scene as Rye faces off one-on-one with Erxik, each with swords drawn. The pair is surrounded by Rye's buddies. Tinny is on the ground, a cut on her forehead dripping blood into her eyes as someone binds her wrists together so she can't interfere.

"Alright, old man," Rye sneers. "If a duel is how you wanna die, I'll gladly put my steel through your guts."

You and Onthyes stay back from the group, watching as Rye and Erxik cross swords. The others stay back, honor-bound to let the duel play out. Literal fire dances behind Erxik's eyes as he and Rye's swords clash, the sound echoing across the deck.

They're both fierce fighters, and the duel takes them all over the ship. Although he is much older, Erxik fights with a level of control and precision that clearly frustrates Rye, who relies on brute strength and primal ferocity.

The key to your shackles glints on a chain around Erxik's neck.

In the end, it's Rye who has Erxik backed against the railing of the ship, his sword pointed at the captain's throat. Erxik's sword splashes into the dark sea below.

"He can't win," Onthyes whispers. "We can't let him."

You chose: Interfere. Kill Rye and leave Erxik alive.

You find yourself stepping forward, your hands outstretched. Rye lunges forward to deliver the final blow, and with a flick of your wrist you send a strong gust of wind pushing against Rye's back. He loses control of his forward momentum and topples over the side of the ship with a scream.

There's a long moment of stunned silence from the rest of the crew as you lower your hands and Erxik wipes blood from his eyes, panting.

Then the captain turns his gaze to you.

There's something in his expression that makes a shiver run down your spine as he stalks over to you. He puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you.

"Good boy," he says, patting your arm. Then he turns to the crew. "Like it or not, I am still your captain, and I am more powerful than ever! I have bent storms to my will, and if any of you try to pull that shit again you will feel the unbridled wrath of nature, understand?"

The crew nods, mumbling amoungst themselves and shooting the occasional fearful look in your direction.

"Now get out of my sight, all of you!"

The crew disperses. You and Onthyes try to slip away as well, but Erxik grabs your bicep tightly, stopping you.

Then Erxik removes the key to your shackes from around his neck. For a moment you're hopeful that he's about to set you free, but instead he unlocks the cuff from Onthyes's wrist and takes the chain in his hand like a leash.

Silently, he leads you away. You glance over your shoulder and catch a glance of Onthyes watching you go with concern before you're dragged into Erxik's cabin.

The door has only just closed behind you when you're sent crumbling to the floor with a forceful shove from Erxik.

You'd expected him to be grateful, but the glare on is face when you look up at him tells a different story.

His hand whips out and he strikes you across your cheek, making your ears ring.

"What the fuck was that?!" he demanded. "Why did you interfere?! The crew will see me as weak now!"

You chose: I just didn't want Rye to win. I wasn't thinking about Erxik. (Explain yourself)

You rush to explain yourself, holding your hands out to prevent another strike. "That was not my intention! I just did not want Rye to be captain."

Erxik grabs your arm. His touch is ice cold for a moment, but then you look at his hands and find them flickering with flames, your skin smoking where he touches you. You let out a scream as he hoists you to your feet.

"You selfish little shit," he growls, pulling you close so your noses are only inches apart.

"Let go!" you cry, trying to wrench your now sizzling arm from his grip. The smell is sickening.

He releases you and you stumble back, tears filling your eyes. His handprint stands out as a stark burn wrapped around your forearm.

"I need the crew to believe you were protecting me," he muses to himself. "They need to know that I am still in control."

"I would never protect you," you mutter. "It was a strategic decision."

"As is this." Erxik picks up the chain that dangles from your wrist. He loops the other end around his bedpost and secures it there with a lock.

"Let me be clear, boy. I don't care for you outside of what your magic can do for me. I was content letting you run around with Onthyes when I wasn't using you. But now I have an image to repair, and you will help me do so."

You consider him nervously. "And how will I do that?"

He approaches you slowly. You back away a step before the chain stops you. "From now on," he says, his voice dark, "you are mine. You are loyal to me. Subservient to me. You revere me as your superior. You will show my crew that I have a force of nature at my beck and call, and my authority will be restored. What do you say, Ventis? Will you do this for me willingly, or will I have to force you?"

You chose: Attack him. Maybe he's tired from fighting Rye.

You look up at Erxik, and something inside you snaps.

It's not logical. It's not reasonable. You just suddenly can't even begin to stomach the idea of belonging to this monster, and your body reacts faster than you can think.

He reaches out to grab you, and when his hand comes down on your shoulder electricity crackles from your skin to his. He reels back with a yell and you move quickly, kicking his knee until he's kneeling. You move in behind him, wrapping the chain attached to your wrist around his throat and pulling it tight.

Glancing up, you can see that his window is cracked open. It would be tight, but you could squeeze out of it and take to the air if you could just get out of this shackle.

Erxik is recovering from the shock, grabbing at the chain and trying to pull it away from his throat as he gasps for air. He's stronger than you. You're running out of time. You grab at his necklace, yanking the knot of the leather cord open while you try to keep the chain tight around his neck.

You manage to slide the key off the cord and quickly use it to remove the cuff from your wrist. The skin underneath is dirty and chafed.

Then you drop the chain and run.

Dashing for the window, you ignore the sound of Erxik coughing and sucking in air as he frees himself. That doesn't matter now. All that matters is getting out.

You shove the window open the rest of the way and climb up, squeezing your shoulders through the opening. The wind greets you, wrapping around your body and ready to whisk you away.

Then a burning hot hand is grabbing your ankle and pulling hard.

You scream and kick as you're dragged back inside, hitting the wooden floor with a thump. Erxik gets on top of you, pinning you to the floor. Purple marks have formed in a ring around his throat.

"No!" You squirm desperately underneath him, but it's no use. You failed, and now he's even more pissed off.

"You little shit!" He grabs you by your throat and squeezes.

You go still, grabbing at his wrists and coughing weakly. Your chest heaves as you try and fail to take in air. Darkness starts to close in on the edges of your vision.

He gets in close to your face, smoke hissing from his nostrils. "You want to fight like an animal?" he whispers. "Fine. But I'm going to break you like one."

You chose: Keep fighting.

Erxik has you pinned to the floor, sitting on top of you with his hands wrapped around your throat and squeezing. You let out a pathetic cough, scratching at his arms, but he doesn't let up.

Everything starts to go dark. Your head spins. A roaring sound fills your ears.

In that moment, you come to a realization. You have always been like this - helpless, at the mercy of someone stronger than you. Images flash before your eyes. Your father, your brother, your captain in the navy, Rye.

Now it's Erxik.

It makes giving up seem so tempting. You've always been a victim, so why waste energy fighting it? Why not just let it happen? Maybe it's your fate to always be below someone else.

But... What about Onthyes?

He's good. He's good and he'd almost kissed you once and what if there's something there? What if you've finally found someone who actually wants you?

You can't give up now. Not when there's a chance that things will finally turn around for you.

Energy surges through your body, and with a thunderous crack you send another wave of lightning through Erxik's body. He goes flying backwards, hitting the adjacent wall with a thump. He slumps limply to the floor, and he doesn't move.

Gasping and wheezing, you get on your hands and knees, then drag yourself to your feet.

The window is still cracked open. There's enough adrenaline pumping through your veins to keep you in the air for a while if you fly away right now. But you'd have to go alone. You wouldn't have time to take Onthyes with you.

Or you could go back out the door Erxik dragged you in through, back out onto the deck of the ship. You would risk getting caught and you're not exactly sure how you would escape, but at least you could be with Onthyes. Maybe the two of you could steal a dinghy and sail away from here. If you're lucky, you'll find land before the sun or the thirst or the waves kill you.

Either way, you have to choose right now. Erxik's chest is still moving, and you can't be sure when he'll wake up.

You chose: The door.

You make the split-second decision to run for the door.

Onthyes was a reason you'd decided to keep fighting. You can't just leave him behind.

Slamming the cabin door behind you you look around the deck frantically. It's well into the middle of the night now, possibly even the early morning. You can hear the sound of crewmen working the night chatting nearby, but luckily none of them catch sight of you.

You don't know where exactly you'll find Onthyes, but you don't want to spend another second just standing outside the captain's cabin. You take a moment to push a nearby crate against the door, knowing that it will only stall Erxik for a few minutes at best if he wakes up.

You're moving quickly across the deck when you turn a sharp corner and run face first into a broad chest.

"Ventis! Thank the gods!" Onthyes whispers as he steadies you. He's still fully dressed, with a sword at his side and a bag slung over his shoulder. "I heard thunder and the night is clear and you were alone with Erxik so I figured you might be in danger." Then he studies your face closer in the dim light, tilting your chin up with a gentle hand. A dark look crosses his features. "He hurt you."

You glance away, not quite able to meet his eyes. "I am alright," you mutter, but your voice is strained and hoarse from being choked earlier.

"No you're not. I should have come for you sooner. I shouldn't have let him take you away."

"Onthyes," you say firmly.

Onthyes goes quiet, staring down at you with wide eyes.

Then, you get on your tip-toes and kiss him.

It's a short kiss. You don't have time to savor it, knowing that you have to get moving before Erxik escapes his cabin and comes for you.

When you pull away Onthyes's face is bright red and he's smiling like an idiot. "What was that for?" he asks breathlessly.

You just scoff and grab him by his arm, dragging him along with you as you make your way towards the boats. You almost miss being chained together.

You run up to the nearest dinghy and start untying its ropes. There are other pirates working within eyesight, but they don't seem to have caught on to your current situation.

"Help me," you bark at Onthyes as you prepare to swing it over the ship's edge. "Hurry."

Onthyes rushes to help and soon you have the boat suspended over the dark water. He climbs in first and starts getting everything situated.

A strong hand clamps down on your shoulder before you can join Onthyes.

"What's going on here?"

You look up to find Tinny standing over you, her face set into a hard glare. Her voice catches the attention of the other pirates, some of whom drop their jobs and start to head over to you.

You chose: Use up my remaining energy to summon a huge storm and escape in the chaos.

"Let go of me!" You try to jerk your arm away from Tinny's grip, but she holds you firmly.

"Sorry, kid. Not a chance."

The other pirates have gathered around now, all eying you warily. You can't escape like this. If you waste another second, they'll stop you and then you and Onthyes both will be in a lot of trouble.

You only have one thing left: your magic.

But there's so little of it now, after your fight with Erxik. You're weakened. Do you even have enough magic left to save yourself?

There's only one way to find out.

Tinny goes to yank you onto the deck of the ship. You fall and hit the solid wood, and the second your battered body makes contact an explosion of thunderous force sweeps out around you.

It blinds you, your head nearly splitting with pain. Still, you somehow manage to push yourself to your knees and look around. The pirates had been thrown back by the blast, but they're getting up too. Still hanging over the side of the ship, the small boat swings dangerously while Onthyes strains to hold its weight up by a rope slung over a pulley.

Your whole body is sore and shaky, but you raise your arms, palms up, and try to concentrate over the sound of blades leaving sheathes and boots stomping towards you.

You breathe deeply. Your lungs fill with salty air.

Then you unleash a storm.

Winds pick up instantly, swirling around you and making you shiver. Raindrops start to sting your cheeks. More thunder rolls overhead.

You can feel yourself at the heart of the storm. If you wanted to you could harness every gust, could conduct the lightning and thunder like a choir. But instead you choose to let the storm loose. You need to focus on getting away.

You force yourself to rise to your feet. Your legs shake. Your mouth tastes like blood. You crumple under your own weight and the wind pushes at your back, keeping you upright.

Around you, Tinny and the other pirates struggle to stay standing against the wind. A stray lightning bolt smashes through a mast and it splits with a crack, sending splinters flying and pirates scrambling to get out from under its path as it falls. The wind tears claw marks into the unfurled sails.

Your vision goes gray and fuzzy as you search for the little boat. It isn't there anymore, you realize. There's only a frayed rope dangling over the edge of the ship.

"Onthyes?" You aren't sure if you succeeded at yelling it, as your voice gets carried away in the wind instantly.

You stumble to the edge of the ship and look down into the churning black water. Onthyes's blond hair stands out against the dark wood and waves where he floats in the dinghy. He's holding the oars, clearly doing his best to keep the boat out of danger as the currents spin it around haphazardly.

Panting, you cling to the ship's railing. Your vision blacks out completely with the next roar of thunder. This storm is literally draining you, eating away at your very life force. You blink hard, but you can't see anything anymore.

Your legs give out again. You sag against the railing. A high-pitched invades your ears until it's the only thing you can hear.

Then a flying, heavy object slams into your back, and you pass out.

-

Onthyes watches, his heart pounding, as Ventis's limp body tumbles from the side of the Fortune and hits the water, instantly being enveloped into the rolling black waves. He moves before he can even think, throwing himself from the dinghy and plunging into the water after him.

It's freezing cold and pitch dark, and Onthyes's clothes threaten to weigh him down to the bottom, but luckily he's a strong swimmer.

He opens his stinging eyes under the water, peering around for any sign of his companion. A faint blue glow catches his attention and Onthyes follows it to Ventis's sinking form, quickly grabbing onto his ankle and dragging him back towards the surface.

With a cry of effort, Onthyes manages to throw Ventis's body onto the boat. He pulls himself in after him and lands on his back on the soaked wood, panting and coughing and inhaling heavy raindrops.

Once he's caught his breath, Onthyes rolls over and goes to Ventis's side.

The genasi lies motionless. Veins of blue lightning arc under his skin in hypnotizing patterns. His skin is pale and bruised.

"Come on," Onthyes mutters as he presses his fingertips into Ventis's neck. "Please..."

The pulse is faint but it's there. Onthyes breathes a sigh of relief and grabs onto the oars once more.

One last glance back at the Fortune finds it in shambles. It's missing a mast, the sails are torn, and barrels and crates bob in the water, some broken. No one seems to be pursuing the escaped pair.

Onthyes plunges the oars into the water.

-

The first thing you become aware of is the gentle rocking of a boat underneath you. Then it's sweltering heat. Then an ache that pulses through your whole body.

You crack your eyes open, squinting at the bright blue sky above.

"Ugh..." You shift your body slowly, your arms shaking as you try to push yourself into a sitting position.

"Ventis?"

Onthyes appears in front of you. He's dirty and sweaty, but you're happy to see him alive and unharmed.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down again.

"Thank the gods you're okay," he says, placing a warm palm on your cheek. "You've been unconscious for days now." Then he grabs his waterskin, lifts your head a little, and holds the opening to your mouth. "Here, you must be thirsty."

You are thirsty. You gulp down the water greedily, letting out a hoarse whine when he pulls it away before you're finished drinking.

"Sorry, Ventis. We don't have a lot of water, and I don't know how long we're going to be out here."

"Where-" You cough hard, your throat still painfully dry. "Where are we?"

Onthyes shrugs. "We didn't bring a map, and I'm not the greatest navigator. I've been rowing us east but..." He shrugs again. "I haven't seen a sign of land, or any other ships."

"Not even the Fortune?"

"No. You... you destroyed it, Ventis. I didn't stay long enough to find out if there were any survivors, but your storm wrecked the ship. Erxik won't be coming after you."

"Oh." You can barely remember what had happened. You remember fighting Erxik off and fleeing from him, but everything gets fuzzy after that. "Good."

You try to sit up again and you actually manage it this time with Onthyes's hand on your back. Around you is nothing but open water, all the way to the horizon on every side.

"We actually made it out," you say disbelievingly.

"Thanks to you. That was amazing."

You give him a tired smile.

"But please don't ever do it again. I really thought you might not wake up."

You lean on Onthyes, still smiling weakly. "You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was, Ventis. I care about you."

You tilt your chin all the way back, blinking up at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now, let me see if I can find you something to eat."

Onthyes props you up against a bench, then goes to rummage through his backpack. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of water sloshing against the sides of the boat. You have no idea where you're going, but for once you don't mind the uncertainty. You're completely free - free from captivity, from responsibilities, from expectations. You and Onthyes can chart your own course now, and you know that as long as the two of you stick together, you'll get through it just fine.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

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[ronearoundblindly]

Let’s get Angsty! For Fools Rush In! Please 😆🖤

5. Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

9. What do they dislike most about the other? Why?

37. Who’s more emotionally sensitive/cries more often?

Questions are from this ask game and for the FRI series with Steve Rogers and lab tech!reader.

💜 I hope you enjoy this, angst anon, even if I didn't strictly try to make it sad or super emotional. 💜

5

Ya know...I think they do argue, but probably only because I love to write arguments???

They've had tiffs before--one about you jokingly calling him a 'himbo' and some lashing out when his hangups on intimacy were not communicated--but Sketch and Keeps work their best together when brutally honest. It's tough AND it's a strength.

They argue because Steve has a very public life and a private personality. With that comes the inability to have honest conversations about bothersome things right when they happen because there could be press or fans or just people around who do not need to know your business.

Under no circumstances would you or Steve yell at each other unless alone, and even then, it's not yelling and screaming but mostly venting. Like in Dignity. Both of you can get frustrated; that's part of life.

9

Sometimes Steve is unrealistic about who he is now, and it can infuriate you. Yes, he's a humble man, and no, he isn't superficial. Like anyone, Steve can appreciate attention from people he wants attention from...

...and the rest he just...ignores.

He doesn't realize or acknowledge that people covet him and fawn over him and depreciate you in order to feel closer to him. It is plain stupid that he can't see this shit going on, and you hate having to be the one to point it out.

Steve, on the other hand, dislikes how easily you depreciate yourself. Drives him bonkers. So what if the rest of the world has an opinion of him, an opinion of you, or an opinion of your relationship? Pardon his french, but who gives a shit? He wishes he knew how to convince you perfect for him and perfect together does not have to mean perfect at all.

37

Right, so Steve can't or rarely cries. He gets hot, like overheated and uncomfortable, blotchy like a heart-suit high card. All the pressure that can't be released through tears just builds up.

Steve is gifted at compartmentalizing these things, but he gets easily *dinged* mentally. It's a hazard of missing so much culture and history and social development; he can't keep up with being both the Greatest Generation and Gen X. Steve is the most liberal, old fart on Earth. It's very lonely.

Oddly enough, you know that feeling when an elderly person repeats stories over and over again about how they're right and how they learned a lesson as if no one else ever knew? Steve gets that feeling listening to younger and younger people.

That's all a really roundabout way to say that technically you cry more than Steve, but you two have about equal sensitivity to modern struggles. Steve is grateful that he can talk through all of those things with you, and he's happy to listen. Your experiences may be different, but the love you share is the same--that, and how much of a crapshoot growing up is in any decade...

😏

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[indieyuugure]

Hi! Let me start off by saying that I absolutely adore your ROTP series. This is also one of the very few Rottmnt/2012 crossovers in existance that does justice to both verses and doesn't put a biases on any. I love this comic.

Now that aside, I need to get something off my chest. I wouldn't have gone on Anon but experience has taught me that opposing opinions will make the followers of a blog insult and harass you so I tend to err on the side of caution. You see, I Love Love Love TMNT. And I love 2012 series, it's something I relate to so much and grew up with. It's my most favorite version of TMNT.

But the thing is, ever since the Rise movie got released, I've been seeing nothing but slander against the 2012 series and it breaks my heart every time I come across it. It has escalated to an unfair point that I've seen even 2012 fans who love it just as much begin hating aspects of it. I mean, don't get me wrong, it does have its flaws but it's unfair how highlighted those select few flaws are to the point of extremely biased comparisons and blame games and general 2012 slander which half the time doesn't even comply with canon. Moreover, literally every TMNT has its flaws just the same.

And recently, I've been seeing an increase in posts on your blog that have 2012 slander undercurrents or simply blatant frustrations with it. I love the comic but keep seeing this hatred still is just... it hurts ya know. Like really actually hurts.

So if possible, can you plz tag such posts with something I can filter out? (And let us know what that tag will be?) You don't have to but I really really love your art and comics, it's just the 2012 slander again that hurts me and I don't want to see it anymore. I've been seeing it everywhere.

Again, plz don't take this the wrong way, it's just something that's been hurting me and I had to get it off my chest. And find a solution to it that doesn't involve blocking or unfollowing because I genuinely do love this fancomic

Thank you for your feedback!!💕 (seriously feedback is extremely appreciated to me!)

I sorry my posts came off as 2012 slander, I really never meant it like that. I will admit I do critique media pretty aggressively, but I never mean it in a hateful way. TMNT 2012 is one of my absolute favorite shows and I love everything about! It’s the weird quirky stuff about it that while yes, I will criticize, I still love. It wouldn’t be the same without it. Just like the weather, I will complain about it, but I don’t want it to actually change.

I will try to be more conscious of how my posts are perceived, I really never wanted there to be a bias on my blog. I love all of TMNT for all it presents, and I don’t want to ever be slanderous!

Thank you again for your kind nudge! I’m very thankful to have people like you who’ll tell me if I’m making a mistake! I truly do love TMNT 2012. I can’t fix what I’ve said, but now that I know, I can be sure to be more careful to not sound biased going forward.

Again, I’m very sorry it came off that way, I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I never want to harm a series’s reputation, especially one that I love so much!

You are truly appreciated!💕

I know this won’t fix the things I’ve said, but I’ll say 3 of my top favorite things about 2012:

I love the way they depicted characters! They do an amazing job using indirect characterization that makes the characters feel so real. The characters don’t have to tell you things about themselves, you learn about them from the way the interact with each other, the way they solve problems, the things they like and dislike, and even what they’re doing in the background! It really feels like you’re there getting to know these fun people and go on adventures with them! Truly amazing!

I love the way the turtles look! Seriously I think they look so cool, and at the same time cute. They’re visual designs inspired me so much in my art and I will watch hours on end of them because they’re just so freaking cool!

I love the way their stories are told! The episodes are so well paced that it never feels boring to watch an episode! Believe it or not, I have never once wondered how many minutes are left on an episode. It’s so good at sucking you in and addicting you, that while I was watching it for the first time, I was straight up binging it and would be forced to put it down by my parents. Several times I would stop to eat something and have that weird “wait, who am I? What is my life?” Thing you get from a really good story. The stories and arc pacing are so good that Indie TMNT, my original series is using massive inspiration from 2012.

Once again, I am truly sorry for coming off as slanderous. Thank you for being so brave and telling me what many people were probably thinking. I want to do better. Thank you! :]

[kurov1864]

Opinions on Milgram characters

I've actually been wanting to do this for some time now lmao. Btw this is just my interpretation of each character, followed by my opinion on said interpretation. Feel free to disagree, I love to discuss with other people. (also cross-posted on Reddit)

Haruka: Okay so what I think happened for him is that he very obviously has a developmental disorder of some sort. I'm not sure exactly what, and I don't really wanna speculate because I'm not an expert. So he, as a child, was neglected by his mom and didn't receive enough attention. This led him to become extremely attached to his childhood best friend, which didn't really affect anything when they were both children. But then, she grew up, yet he didn't. She started to act more maturely, and he didn't. They grew apart, and Haruka couldn't understand why. Or maybe he did, and blamed himself. Anyways. Yada yada, he tried getting attention from his mom by killing animals, he did get attention (the wrong kind), kinda went off and killed his ex bestie as well, either out of frustration or for literally more attention.

Now, my general opinion of him? Neutral. I don't love or hate him. Maybe a very mild dislike, but that's only because I find it kinda disturbing how he calls Muu his mom.

Yuno: Abortion. I like Yuno. Not because of the whole "omg girlboss slayyyy you have total control over your body yas queen" thing, because honestly yall have got to stop saying stuff like that. I like her because she wants to be recognized as a "mature adult" who can actually take responsibility for her actions, instead of being degraded into this poor innocent girl who knows what the shit is. She's so impartial to everyone, even herself, yet she knows and acknowledges the fact that she's still human who has emotions and empathy, which is why she sometimes tries to help out. Yet, she doesn't deny the fact that she seeks interesting and new things, leaving behind others when most would feel guilty. 10/10, relatable character.

Fuuta: HATE. He is so... thoughtless?? I absolutely hate people who gets so caught up in their cause that they literally cannot see anything else. They don't stop to think, "oh, maybe what I'm doing is wrong? Maybe there is a better way to go about this?". Now, to be fair, I don't know much about Fuuta. So please, feel free to disagree with me about him, but I cannot stand the way he didn't stop to think that maybe cancelling others would push them to suicide. That just shows his naivety. I acknowledge that his passion is admirable (passion for what I'm still thinking about), but passion without the knowledge to help is just being a stubborn idiot. His impulsiveness is also another very strong ick of mine.

Muu: I don't have much of an opinion on her character, but I do enjoy the concept that she represents. My personal theory is that she represents how somebody can be both a victim and a bully at the same time. She is at her very core, human, but without all those polite manners and social skills drilled into her. She turns pitiful and desperate when disadvantaged, but turns cocky, arrogant and confident when she has power. She is so, undeniably, human. And yet she can also be kind at times. She has such a f-ked up perception of everything, so maybe yall didn't catch it, but she's still trying to be nice in her own warped way.

Shidou: Eh. He's like, okay?? Not gonna comment on his crime because I don't feel anything towards it. But his attitude is sort of annoying. The way that he clings to his role as a doctor in prison after trying to forsake his life, the way he keeps trying to bring up age with Es (yes I know age is a valid point but bringing that up just makes it seem as if you're looking down on Es only because of their age. it's degrading), all that stuff just kinda gets on my nerves a bit. I appreciate what he's doing for the prison,,, but I don't really like him.

Mahiru: Love her. I love the way she tries to stand up for her ideals, no matter how much society + Es tells her it's wrong. She's been hurt so much yet she's still so optimistic, bright and hopeful about love. I love her. Granted, it may be because I also have fucked up views of love like her which is why I gave her such a high rating compared to like, Fuuta.

Kazui: Neutral. I would have wanted to scream at him about just,,, not telling lies, but I can acknowledge how hard it is for some people to not care about their image, especially if they grew up in a traditional household.

Amane: A bit positive and negative at the same time. I dunno, I just kinda like the way that she found a way to adapt to her horrible circumstances. Although that way is by weaponizing her religion to protect herself, but yeah. Unhealthy circumstances calls for unhealthy coping methods. What I dislike is how she doesn't even want to give other thoughts a try. Like she won't stop and think about other options, not even for a little bit. But then again, it's literally been drilled into her since childhood to not betray that religion, so I guess that makes my point invalid.

Mikoto: Why, why is he so popular?? What?? I'm so confused. Honestly I just think he's neutral. Just like, oh look, another victim of the toxic work environment who found a terrible way to cope. I don't have any feelings about John either, although I do admire his dedication to Mikoto. He's just so,,, uninteresting?? Someone please tell me why he is so popular, because I gen want to try to understand and see his appeal.

Kotoko: My wife. I'll try not to let bias get in the way of this one.

Okay I'm gonna be so fr rn I absolutely detested her at first. She's like Fuuta,,, but so much worse. She takes her ideals to the absolute extreme, pushes down all guilts and feelings about others to carry out her "justice". She's so unwilling to admit that she likes the feeling of beating bad guys up, the moral high ground it gives her. She's not only hurting other people, but also herself. Mf thinks she's in an edgy movie where she's the anti-hero who goes against the government and is constantly misunderstood, like girlie stop. Stop and THINK about what you are doing, see the death, destruction and harm you've brought about not just to others but also yourself?? Goddamn.

I'm not even sure why I like her LMFAO. All my opinions about her is just, she's human scum who needs lots of therapy to stop hurting herself and others.

Es: Love my non-binary guard. They care so much for the prisoners, trying their absolute best to understand them while coping with their body and mind being infiltrated by us. I always feel so guilty having them bear the burden of explaining the guilty decisions to the prisoners,,, just want em to be happy and work-free. I admire their dedication to truly, truly feel for the prisoners, try to understand the entire context instead of the one on the surface. Yeah, they act immaturely, they're a 15 year old who has no memories, no clue as to where they are, clinging onto their role as a warden even if it makes them look pathetic because that's the only thing they've ever known. It's their only sense of "identity" they have that gives them power and pride.

Jackalope: HATE HATE HATE HATE GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU IN TRIAL 2 END gOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BACK TO WHICHEVER MISERABLE BASEMENT YOU CRAWLED OUT FROM AND STAY IN THERE FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY. JACKALOPE IS A FATHER AND CARES FOR ES?? I CALL BS. HE DUMPED SO MUCH WORK ON ES, ACTS SHIFTY AND MANIPULATIVE ALL THE TIME, DOESN'T EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO ES, AND YOU EXPECT ME TO LIKE HIM?????

[chrysanthemumgames]

I’ve been apart of the Choice/Hosted games community for years and I just want to say that your story is in my top 3!

I was literally just saying to myself that I would like an IF that really had characters that had a full life outside your character that interacts with you naturally and isn’t so heavy on the constant stats check, and I got my prays answered and MORE.

First time I played, easily I knew I was going after Hades. I played 3 other times and went after Pyri Charon and Hermes (I will be playing it again for the more Olympus type choices). But TRUST it was hard cause your girl kept wanting to go back to Hades XD.

You’re a wonderful writer and I am invested and patiently waiting for the sequel! May I ask for a few suggestions?

- Character tracking: I love that it’s not stats heavy but I think it would be great for the MC to have journal of some sort in the stats page to keep track of characters and how the MC feels about them as certain events take place. There were a lot of characters to keep track of and it was hard to remember the ones I needed to remember.

- MC Traits: I love how you kept the traits simple *chef’s kiss* but during my play throughs, I definitely tried to be extremely different and subtly different. It didn’t feel like there was a distinct diversity of negative or positive consequences for your flaws. Sometimes it felt like there were and other times I wasn’t sure if I triggered one or not. (I was playing with tone indicators off so maybe that’s why I didn’t really see a difference.) Ya girl just wants a super clumsily MC that everyone wants go catch or be annoyed with cause she’s so clumsily ahaha! Which leads me to my last suggestion~

- Character development: PACING *triple chef’s kiss* its the main reason I kept running back for more ahahaha! (Hades just fully accept me as your wife already T^T) My suggestion for this is that it did feel like the Underworld Pals were too nice. I loved that they are but I would definitely like to see them have flaws that make it reasonable for your MC to dislike them. I legitimately was having a hard time being mean to them because none of them felt like they deserved it.

Thank you so much for giving us such a wonderful experience with this story. There is so much to love and I’m excited to see it expand. Also there are probably others but for the most part you are the only author that actually took the time to add the knowledge of protective hairstyles in your book. You are truly heaven sent. Thank you, now Imma go back and be mean to the my man Hades TT-TT cause I gotta see all versions of this amazing book!

Hiya, and thanks for the ask.

I'll take the suggestions under advisement, but fair warning: I'm probably not going to be doing anything to make the characters less 'nice.' They all do have flaws, and perhaps some of those will be getting a little more airtime in the sequel, so to speak, but I have no interest in changing their core personalities. I consider the fact that they are generally kind and understanding to be a feature of the work rather than a bug, so to speak.

It's not everyone's cup of tea, and I understand that, but I wanted to write a story about fundamentally kind people, and that's what I did.

Adding more opportunities for traits and flaws to be relevant is definitely on my list for the next game, and the character codex/journal/tracker is a suggestion I've gotten before and would like to implement in an update. I appreciate the suggestions!

[the-inkwell-variable]

Writeblr Interview Tag!

Thanks so much for the tag, @sableglass!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels all the way. I've tried my hand at short stories, and they always end up being novellas or straight up novels by the time I'm done with them. May as well stick with what my little brain clearly desires!

What genre do you prefer reading?

Mysteries (cozy or otherwise), horror (especially zombie fiction or apocalypse fiction, yes please), fantasy (especially cozy, I love cozy fantasy so much, have you read Legends and Lattes?), and romance.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I'm a little of both! I'll generally have a plan in my head at the very least, if not a brief outline written down somewhere, but when I actually sit down to write, my writing tends to veer off wherever it wants and do its own thing (for example, FUCKING CHUCK). As long as it makes sense, I tend to just let it go wherever it wants lol

What music do you listen to while writing?

Surprisingly, I don't listen to much music while writing. I'll daydream to it, absolutely, but I mostly just throw on some Markiplier or an old debate that I've heard ten thousand times and write to that. It's more about the background noise than the actual content, y'know?

But when I DO listen to music, I drift toward lofi or mood music compilations on youtube. The kind that DMs play during their DnD sessions. Love those so much, they really help keep me locked in a single mood, which I absolutely need when I'm writing a scene.

Favorite books/movies?

Oh god. Lord of the Rings (including the Hobbit don't @ me). Train to Busan (or any Korean zombie movies/shows, really). Some Disney and Pixar - Big Hero 6, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Emperor's New Groove, etc. The Strain is one of my favorite TV shows - I also love Cutthroat Kitchen above all else, a bunch of different anime, and Dance Moms (yes I know it's toxic and yes I am ashamed of myself for enjoying it. I pity the kids but I rage at the moms.)

As for books, my favorites are the Beechwood Harbor Mystery series, The Luminous Dead, Thief Liar Lady, All Systems Red, Legends and Lattes, A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking, anything Holly Black, Suffer the Children, Contagion, Luck in the Shadows, Assistant to the Villain, Dead of Night, and Surviving the Evacuation!

Any current WIPs?

Oh gosh. I'm bopping between From Carnival to Chamomile, a prequel to a cozy mystery series, and Dauntless, a zombie apocalypse trilogy, right now. Sometimes I'll work on Priestess Without Honor, a paranormal low-fantasy romance, and Chosen Against My Will, a dark mafia romance. I also have zer0 ALPHA, a lit-rpg isekai zombie apocalypse novel, but I haven't touched that in years and have only recently rediscovered my notes for it.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

I wear the same thing every day, surprisingly. That's the autism for ya. I love jeans and a T-shirt, especially if that T-shirt has a picture from an anime or show or something like that. Printed shirts, I think they're called. Oh, and mismatched socks. That's me.

Create a character description of yourself: 

Too tall for her own good and unwanted curves for days. Bobbed dark-blue hair with steel gray eyes. Too busy writing or gaming to really notice what's going on. Expect a text back within seconds of receiving it - she reads faster than most people expect and tends to read every text twice just to give it that safety buffer. If there isn't a snack and a drink nearby, call the police.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Hehehehe maybe. But not exactly in a good way. I'm very much the kind of person who will put someone I dislike into my book just so they can get the justice they won't get in the real world, even over something as minor as pronouncing my name wrong on purpose (I'm looking at you, Keiara).

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I want to say yes because I kill off characters constantly, but when it comes to my main OCs, no. I can't bring myself to kill them at all. I go out of my way to create characters for death (like FUCKING CHUCK) rather than put my favorites in the line of fire. I think that's a problem I need to work on.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee

but I do love tea, especially in the fall. In the fall, I tend to drift toward tea and apple cider rather than coffee.

But otherwise? Coffeeeeeee

Slow or fast writer?

Fast writer when I actually sit down to write! Slow writer when I'm procrastinating. I've been working on Dauntless for...thirteen years? Twelve?

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

I get inspiration from EVERYTHING. Dreams. Books. Movies. Something dumb my partner says offhandedly.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

I absolutely want to be something cool, like a shadow mage. But I'm probably a little gremlin that hides in the edges of the woods and steals your socks. Mmmm socks.

Most fav book cliche:

Enemies to lovers! Especially when one person is smitten at firstt sight and doesn't realize it.

Least favorite cliche:

Friendship is magic. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with powerful friendships being front and center, but when the big bad is literally destroyed because fRiEnDsHiP I gag a little bit. I also hate undeserved happy endings - make the ending make sense. If it's a sad or horror book, sometimes the ending needs to be bad. And finally, forced romance. No. No thank you. Some stories don't need romance.

Favorite scene to write?

Descriptions! Am I good at them? No. Will I spend three pages describing a tree? Maybe.

Also conversations. I tend to do a lot of conversations and monologues in my writing. Need to work on that.

Reason for writing?

If I don't write down the ideas in my head, I will explode.

TAGLIST: @falconfate - @space-writes - @leahnardo-da-veggie - @i-can-even-burn-salad - anyone who wants to take part!

[marcsnuffy]

so what did you think of the epinagi movie 👁️

One of the movies ever made I think, but in the mid way. I did enjoy the experience though. I just think it all went by too fast, except for the Team Z match.

I get that they really wanted to end it in a way that ties back into the u-20 match for the next season (to hype people up and deny the gay movie allegations) but it felt kinda sloppily executed, specifically because everything from where Isagi stops being in team white to the third selection wasn't animated.

And also a lot of stuff that made Episode Nagi enjoyable to read just wasn't there. The art being one of them. In my opinion, most of the time the animation was almost TV level, if a bit more polished. I don't know if I just dislike the way 8bit animates bllk, but I felt kinda disappointed. They *did* have some scenes that looked good, (I liked that one Nagi goal in the match against the Wanimas, Nagi and Isagi's auras colliding (Isagi's stinky neon green aura included), that scene where the E-4 celebrate Isagi's goal. There are more but I forgot already. Also Nagi's aura looked cool every now and then but it really does look like Sans lmfao) but after some point they gave up on animating matches and started using 3D models, which is appalling but also, it's anime bllk's charm (?) at this point.

Re: scenes they cut, I think it's insane they skipped over the 3v3 where Reo and Kunigami lose. Since, at some point, this movie turns a recap with Reo and Nagi's thoughts over it, then isn't that a load bearing bit? Reo doesn't even say he wants to die or that he's just like his father. You (as in, general audiences who won't read Epinagi) don't get to reinterpret that moment their inner thoughts, which is one of the things that makes Epinagi interesting as a spinoff. I put so much emphasis there because both of the people I went with completely forgot about it and they were like "Oh, so by U-20 they're fine", as if the end of that 3v3 doesn't hang over them to this day 😭 

There's actually a lot of stuff that got cut out that, even if it's not really that important, I still felt :( at not seeing, like Ba-ya getting Choki and clocking Nagi's issues, Reo & Nagi noticing stuff about the tag game, Hakuho's students thoughts on Nagi, Reo rejecting a girl over Nagi (I thought I'd be really funny to see the reaction to that since whenever the movie got kinda gay people in my screening were like ‼️⁉️. fujonation & dudebronation peace), Reo and Zantetsu not getting along, Reo's interactions with the team, and everything before the "I'm not Reo's slave, I'm his partner" scene, since I felt it fit in kinda awkwardly without context. 

Final thoughts. Take your local Reonagi fan to see this movie. Take your friends to convert them into or get them to acknowledge Reonagism, even.

If you don't like Reo or Nagi or Reo and Nagi but you do like Team Z, you'll like a big chunk of this movie (seriously that match is so long omfg). Watch this movie at the theatre if you're into that but you can also wait until it's on streaming or pirating sites if you don't want to pay for it (I don't think the movie itself is worth it, but I had fun so maybe go with low expectations & someone to show deranged death game football yaoi to?)

[chronicmusicnerd]

On the mediocrity of Harry Potter

*NOTE!! This is not an attack to HP fans. I also enjoy reading/watching HP, but I can simultaneously bring light to why it isn’t perfect or even very good*

enjoy and pls reblog i’d really appreciate it

I should hope we all know that JK Rowling (JKR) isn’t a very great person. She’s a blazing transphobe, borderline Holocaust denier, and she isn’t this wonderful feminist either. In fact, it’s quite clear that she dislikes women in general.

On that, the first obvious bit of evidence pointing to HP not being super duper brilliant is how JKR writes girls/women. First off, it’s clear that to JKR, the perfect role for a woman is a mother that sacrifices herself (physically or otherwise) for her child(ren). Take Narcissa Malfoy, for example. She makes the unbreakable vow with Snape to protect her son, as she’s certain Draco cannot at the moment kill Dumbledore. To refresh your memory, if the unbreakable vow is broken, the members in the vow die.

Another example is Lily Potter, Harry’s mum. While as an isolated incident, her death and protection of Harry via love would be fine and dandy, however, coupled with how nearly every other woman is written, it seems in very poor taste.

May I note now that out of the top 100 HP characters by mention, only 28 are women. Those 28 include, but are not limited to, Pansy Parkinson, Olympe Maxime, and the corpse of Bathilda Bagshot. These characters are still barely mentioned, except for influxes in singular books. Take that all in, in the top 100 characters by mention in HP, only 28 are women.

Now, we can move to the “shoving under the carpet” of our beloved MC’s trauma. It’s obvious that Harry would have loads upon loads of trauma based on his parents deaths, the literal war he fought in, one of the most evil wizards constantly hunting him down each year, witnessing his friend (Cedric) die via an unforgivable curse, living with the Dursley’s in a cabinet under the stairs, I could go on. However, Harry seems to be mostly fine. Sure, he was spooked after Cedric’s death, and sure, he has his scar pulsing and hurting whenever Voldemort is near, but he seems to have virtually no trauma expressed in the books. Now, this was the 90’s, but still. However, the next bit is truly insane.

Finally, we can get to the goblins. The goblins, that run Gringotts wizarding bank, are hook-nosed, greedy, and not to be trusted. In history, the cruel caricatures of Jewish people are also hook-nosed, greedy, gargoyles and evil creatures alike.

Many watchers of HP expressed shock when they say the goblins on screen, some thinking along the lines of, “Did they really just put these guys in the underground bank??” and the die-hard defenders simply said, “It’s fantasy. It’s wizards.”

However, being fantastical and based around wizards gives no one the right to put harmful stereotypes against the jewish people into children’s, or any, media. In fact, it was mostly adults who picked up on the antisemitic values of the goblin’s portrayal. Racism is not something one is born with, it is something one is taught. The kids who saw the HP movies may have seen the goblins and thought, “Ew, those guys suck,” and then later in life meet a jewish person who has the features of the goblins and say, “Ew, these people are real? You all suck.”

Racial stereotypes are never okay, and paired with JKR’s borderline Holocaust denial, make for a very suspicious situation.

Finally, the writing is mid at best. The most interesting character (from a writing standpoint) is Dumbledore, which is insane. He’s got the most depth, as a truly morally grey character. Most of the characters serve one purpose and then are killed off, or are just extremely flat. The plot is a copy-paste YA line, which is fine, but it makes one visualize a connection between these over-used plots in YA and the over-used tropes and characters in modern “dark romance” (which now, is mostly badly written smut).

Again, this is not an attack to anyone who likes HP or dark romance or popular tropes/character personalities/plotlines. Personally, I love the grumpy x sunshine trope, or friends to lovers. However, HP is a bit more controversial than a trope, and while I enjoy it and it is nostalgic, we have to tear down and really look at these flaws and moral wrongs in the story.

To truly eradicate these stereotypes and bring in more awareness to writing, we have to talk about them. They cannot be shoved under any rugs (like Harry’s trauma) and have to be slowly unraveled from writing and the world altogether.

Summary, JKR bad writer don’t use racial stereotypes on characters and try not to write mid stories that don’t like women.

PS I wrote this in one go after talking about why HP is mid with a friend and it inspired me so this is just the convo with less emojis and more backstory 🤑 pls reblog or like or comment gangalang

[jaybutnotthebird]

I found a conexión between my two latest obsesions and its an overlooked detail that I think It's so important and cool and underrated

SO IM GONNA BITCH ABOUT IT

Atlas May and Johnathan Brisby

Characters who are very important for the story, but are no longer there.

They are long gone. They are dead. We never hear them talk, we barely catch glimpses of them, we know them for what others tell us about them

The protagonists live in their shadow and the wreckage left behind by them, no matter how good or powerful they were, no one expected them to die and once they did everything fell apart without them

Johnathan was a hero. He was smart, selfless, self sacrified, never afraid to take risks. He knew the great owl, he owned a mysterios pendant that saves the day, he got killed taking a great risk for the rest of the comunity

The moment his name is mentioned everyone stops and listens and their whole demeanor changes and they are suddenly willing to go out of their way to help his family

After he died his widow and children were left in the dark about an important secret they have inherited and hey must fend by themselves in a dangerous enviroment. The rest of the comunity strugled to fill his role at a critical moment with a traitor on the loose.

We are told he went out of his way to save others when he could have just saved himself by just opening a gate but thats the least of It, there are so many other things he did that we are not told about

Atlas May is general y disliked by the fandom

Maybe It is the way Zib talks about him, with resentment, or that he wasn't in good terms with Mitzy, or that he was into nasty business practices, and got everyone arround him stuck in them

But we cannot deny that he acomplished great things

He buildt and empire and the people arround him greatly benefited from him, hell, Ivy's family is still rich after doing business with him in his prime.

I bet he wasn't perfect, no one in lackadaisy is but Its easy to blame It all on the bastard when he is no longer there

Why do I think we should have more characters like this?

Well, we all think we are the protagonist of our own story, but anyone can have an accident.

Nowourdays you hear of death but most of the time you don't trully understand It. You hear of a catástrofe that took hundreds of lives and you imagine for a moment how bad that is but you don't trully understand It, you can't

You can't possibly take in what It must be for every single family and friend who lost each of those persons, every child that will be missing a parent, every friend that will be thinking of them three or ten years from now, every unexpected little thing or big acomplishment each one of them could have done throughout their life wich we are now missing.

How many of them had a dificult relationship with someone they loved and never got to make peace? (boy am I glad Im alive)

Too often in media we see a lot of background characters die and we dont think about It becouse the protagonists have plot armor, the ones that count are fine.

I call these 'ghost characters' but theres also 'semi-ghost characters' wich give ya a glimpse by leting us know them before they are gone, so we know what we will be missing

Thanks to characters like this we see the consecuences of death. The way they impact people's lives arround them, the things they did and the things they could have done, we wonder what their personslities were like...

I think that is important, and we don't see that often enough