#LORD WHAT DO I WRITE

[pxtched]

is it bad to ask that I want requests?? It’s like I don’t know what to write anymore :( I enjoy writing here but it’s like DAMN what do I write

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I'm gonna be honest at this point we deserve for them to make Buddie friends-to-fiancés like yeah we missed out on canon with the shooting and season five and who even knows what the fuck was going on in season six we're like three seasons behind now chop chop just skip it all and have Eddie desperately propose in the rain. I need it. It would cure me. More importantly it would be the most in-character way you could possibly get these codependent desperately abnormal idiots together.

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[deimosatellite]

like idk it just seems actually nefarious to take one of the very few widely known instances of queerness in older history being a symbol to show queer people that we've always existed and aren't alone for CENTURIES and taking away the queerness from it. like. i know some people say that ''the queerness isnt important in the book" which i mean in my opinion i could go off for 10k words in an essay as to how basil's love for dorian is integral to the story BUT EVEN APART from that its really just. having a real explicitly queer character in such an old and widely regarded classic novel is HUGE for queer history and this is just. literally like. its 2024. why are you doing queer erasure to DORIAN GRAY

[dippedinmelancholy]

I think there's something so ironic and stupid about the fact that Rhysand/every fan on his limp cock screaming "I can't do more to protect the women in the Night Court, because change takes time!"and then like, literally overnight he makes Feyre High Lady. A thing that does not exist in fae memory. She was on Tamlin's dick two months ago and she's suddenly married to this dude who's been a cunt to literally everyone for the last 500 years, and he suddenly names her High Lady. And like . . . absolutely no one has a note worthy reaction to this? No one cares. Literally. No one. This is arguably the biggest fucking change????? SJM I'm begging you to write shit that makes sense, you're killing brain cells.

[lunar-years]

? He very much did also write Ted Lasso btw. He was a credited writer on Ted Lasso. He was in the writer’s room for Ted Lasso. He was writing it!

[harbingersglory]

Mayhaps something with (transfem) Kujou Sara fucking a bratty reader who (intentionally) pisses her off to the point where she goes all out with her full inhuman strength, ultimately knocking them up completely by accident because she was so caught up in the moment she forgot to pull out?

I bet nobody expected her to be first out of her siblings to become a parent, least of all herself, but she ain’t complaining!

{☆} characters kujou sara {☆} notes drabble, implied fem reader, sub reader, transfem kujou sara {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink

Kujou Sara was not one to allow herself to lose her ironclad control– she was a general, above all else, a servant of the Almighty Shogun.

Yet try as she might, you..you had a way of getting under her skin in a way that had her patience and will tested. Maybe it was the bratty, teasing demeanor that had her jaw clenched so hard it creaked, or maybe it was the provocative words you'd whisper in her ear while she was trying to focus.

It was irrelevant in the face of her dragging you back to her quarters, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line– she tried to be gentle, but her grip was firm on her arm as she pulled you into the delicately managed room, her composure cracking like shattering glass. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face when she slammed her hands against the door, the wall nearly splintering beneath barely restrained strength, her expression..less than amused.

"Just what are you trying to accomplish?" She ground out, her teeth aching from how hard she was clenching her jaw– and, though she refused to outwardly admit it, your little..distraction was working far better then she wanted to admit to even herself. "I told you not to..to do such things while I'm working. Do you ever listen?"

She nearly growled– like some common beast, she thinks, and she is glad for her tempered control that she did not embarrass herself in such a way. She still had her dignity. But Archons, you were testing that control even still– the way your tongue poked out like a child, mocking and teasing, as if you wanted her to snap.

She almost considered it, but..you were human, she had to remind herself. Archons knows she's never forgive herself if she actually hurt you.

"What? Can the General not handle a little playful banter?" Sara opened her mouth to snarl back a reply, but she closed it but a sharp click just as quickly, a grimace gracing her features instead. "Is that all it takes to rile you up?"

She wants to deny it, keep her sense of control, but damn it– the way your hands glide across her skin, your nails just barely ghosting across the flexing muscles of her back..she feels her control slipping faster then she can maintain it, her lip quivering.

"You.." She croaks out in reply, trying to subdue the uneasy urge that lingers in the back of her mind with every glance down at you, every touch of your hands, every word that drips from your lips like honey. The silence is broken by a low growl, her hands tugging you off your feet and practically shoving you onto the bed.

"What? Are you going to shut me up? Or are you going to admit you enjoy it?"

Fine, she thinks, fine! If this is what you want so badly, she's going to shut you up the only way she knows she can.

She wastes little time between shoving you onto the bed and climbing on it herself, one of her hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as she shoves your face into the mattress, her other hand fumbling with your clothes– just enough to expose your dripping cunt to her, nostrils flaring at the sharp tang of your arousal, her teeth bared in a snarl.

She can't help the raspy groan that tumbles from her lips at the sight– you looked perfect like that. Quiet, your face forcibly held down, your thighs soaked in your own arousal. She absentmindedly wonders if you'd been so wet the entire time– if you'd just been waiting, no, practically begging for her to just..she can't even finish the thought, her hands trembling and her control slipping even further.

Her free hand fumbles with the hem of her own shorts, freeing her straining, twitching cock, pre cum beading at the tip. Her fist tightens in your hair as she leans over you, pressing her chest against your back and aligning her aching cock to your entrance. She almost snaps out of the fog clouding her rationality, but it returns in full force when she snaps her hips forward, sinking into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

"Fuck," Sara curses beneath her breath, groaning at the tight heat enveloping her– Archons, she'd never get used to it. It only drove her further over the edge, rolling her hips to force more of her cock into you. "Not..not going to talk back?" She growled, huffing and releasing her hold on your hair to instead slip her fingers past your lips. The muffled, garbled response was..far more enjoyable than she expected, the hazy eyed look as she sunk fully into you.

It made her feel lightheaded, to be honest. She was getting a bit too carried away, but the way your walls squeezed against her..her teeth ached for an entirely different reason, tongue swiping over the sharp points before she leaned down to sink them into your shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in with a muffled groan. Her pace was frantic after that, dragging moans and whimpers from your throat like a chorus of broken notes.

She hated how easily you got under her skin, but damn it, she couldn't deny how good it felt to put you in your place. You couldn't even get away if you tried– you were human, and while it made you fragile it also made you weak. Easier to handle.

Even if your tongue was far sharper than your appearance would make one believe.

Archons, she was so close, though. She pulled her fingers from your mouth, nearly crumbling at the moan that tumbled openly from your lips immediately after– she may have chastised you for your attitude, but she still thoroughly enjoyed hearing you. Just knowing you were unable to form anything more complex then senseless babbling was a special kind of high.

She wants to speak, but even her own words fail her beyond a low groan, the absence filled with the slick sound of her wild thrusts, caring little about the stinging ache in her thighs as she pounds you into the mattress without a shred of hesitation or rationality beyond fucking you into silence.

A small part of her, the rational part, tried to remind her to pull out– but your cunt felt so fucking good she just kept going despite the sirens blaring in her head. Even as your limbs tensed and your voice grew hoarse from screaming, she kept you beneath her, nipping at your throat to leave her mark against your skin. She was so close, just..just a little more. Just a little longer. Archons, she doesn't ever want to leave– doesn't ever want to pull out.

Her hands grasp your hips tightly as she nears her own climax, slamming back into you with a broken moan– she barely registered the fact she had cum inside you beyond the thrill of it dribbling down your thighs, not even her cock enough to keep you plugged up as she tried to gain some semblance of control through the haze.

..Fuck. She was going to regret this. She was, every so slowly, coming back to her senses– the first thing she felt was embarrassment, then panic, and then resignation.

At the very least she hadn't accidentally fucked you into unconsciousness on accident.

She was much gentler as she sat up, her cock still half hard as she pulled out, inhaling sharply at the way her cum dripped down onto the sheets. She hated how arousing it was. No– no. She needed to get a hold of herself.

But then again..you didn't seem to be complaining, at least not yet. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to see your expression, her throat suddenly feeling dry at the smug satisfaction on your face.

[hunnyy-bunnyyy]

The dissonance between era inspiration in ACoTaR is one of the more brushed over flaws in the book series. Looking at the Inner Circle's fashion alone, we jump between "literal scraps of fabric" (Under the Mountain, Court of Nightmares) to "orientalist painter's imaginings of the Ottoman Harem" (clothing described during Feyre's first few visits to the Night Court) to "modern 'corset' dress" (Feyre's Starfall dress, majority of Mor's clothing, most of the clothes drawn in fan art) to "modern -- almost sci-fi style -- skin-tight leather armor" to "sweater and leggings combo".

Then, between courts, we have Helion wearing Spirit Halloween's take on the ancient Grecian tunic; Feyre's Spring Court wedding dress looking like an 1830s fashion plate; and Dawn heavily implied to have traditional East Asain clothing (e.g. kimono, hanfu, hanbok).

On top of all of that, some of the Dawn Court's small cities ". . . specialized in tinkering and clockwork and clever things. . ." which -- combined with Lucien's metal eye and Nuan's mechanical hand -- implies a sort of post-industrial revolution time period. However, a decent chunk of the fandom says that ACoTaR is medieval; which, yeah, it's medieval themed in the first book -- sans the "dress" Rhysand forces Feyre to wear UTM.

The wild inconsistencies in ACoTaR's inspiration leads, not to a rich and diverse world, but a world that seems ramshackle and haphazard -- like it's creator simply threw together a board on Pinterest and called it a day. This is a major part of why the world building is so abysmal, it relies on convenience to the plot and whatever pleases the aesthetic whims of the author. Cultures deemed "pretty" or "badass" are thrown together, irregardless of how far apart they actually are. This is not only disrespectful to the narrative, but to the readers and the cultures used as inspiration.

All of this to say: Sarah J Maas is a bad author, not just because of the way she handles serious topics like power dynamics and abuse, but also because she cannot put together a world that is even the slightest bit cohesive.

[eluminium]

WHAT IS IT WITH SKIZZ AND THE NUMBER 3???

I don't get it man, this guy. THIS GUY. He just CAN'T SEEM to escape the number three. Don't believe me?

What about the fact that he's died 3rd every single series he's been in? Yep, both in 3rd life and in last life, this man died third. And in the exact same way too, foolishly charging into the enemy with no plan other than bloodshed. Which fails.

What about THIS????

LIKE YOU CAN'T TELL ME THAT A LITTLE BIT SUS. IN 3RD LIFE TOO. 3RD LIFE. WHERE THE FIRST 2 KILLS WERE HIS.

What about the fact he's only ever had 3 lives assigned to him?

What about the fact that in B.E.S.T, S is the 3rd letter?

What about the fact that he missed Double Life, the 3rd season of the Life Series??

What about the fact that because he missed Double Life, he’s been apart of 3 seasons of the Life series???

AND NOW. WHAT ABOUT THE FACT THAT IN SESSION 1 OF LIMITED LIFE, HE DIES 3 TIMES IN THE FIRST SESSION????

LIKE WHAT IS HIS DEAL??? WHY IS HE SO HAUNTED BY THE NUMBER 3??? HOW DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING????

And I mean, he's usually portrayed as an Angel in fanart. and 3 is considered a holy number. The Rule of 3, the Trinity, and its symbolism in numerology... (yes that's a thing. don't ask me how I know.) It all ties together. And it ties together to the man whose heart is too big for his head. To the man who, despite all the flair, has never killed in anything but self-defense, in the service of another. To the guy whose entire schtick so far in Limited Life is not to kill, but to appreciate the time he has and the people he's around. To the guy who's drawn as an angel.

I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE A CONSPIRACY THEORY AND IT MIGHT BE BUT LIKE, YOU SEE IT DON'T YOU??? THE PATTERNS???? IT'S INSANE. I DON'T GET IT.

Now idk what you could do with this as like a design thing. Could have like a third wing sticking out of his neck so he'd have 3 wings? Could have a halo with 3 rings? Idk man, I ain't the artist, but I feel like there's potential here.

Could also have Dove symbolism? Y'know, doves and angels, doves usually being associated with peace and Skizz having a very nonviolent and more negotiating approach. I mean he spared both Scar and Bdubs in 3rd Life, he chose mercy when really, he could have killed them together with the Red Army. And after Skizz dies is always when everything goes to true shit. After his death came the final battles of Dogwarts in 3rd life. After his death, the Wither was summoned in Last Life and everything fell into slowly decaying chaos. First goes the canary, the first warning that time has run out. Second goes an innocent other, to hammer in that there's no return. And to complete the rule of 3, the dove follows the canary. The death of peace, a final warning. That now there will be no more.

im a little insane about skizzleman okay.

[crystalflygeo]

Sweet torture ft. Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: bondage/shibari, muzzle, oral sex (m!receiver), dom/sub dynamics, reader doms in this one ayyy, sub!zhongli, TEASING lots of it, masturbation, sex toy, improper use of geo (lmao).

notes: What did I just write?? We just don't know. I am sorry I saw one (1) fanart of Zhongli wearing a muzzle and went b a l l i s c t i c. Also.... dom!reader hella. This is so filthy and I'm so sleepy.....

It was torture. You were torturing him.

Zhongli groans, muscles tense as he feels your fingers gently stroking his member. The sudden touch makes him jerk, but the intricate ropework laced around his arms holds him nicely to prevent any more movements and instead keeping them tied at his back.

He couldn't touch you, kiss you, hold you...

A sweet yet deliciously devilish laughter comes out of your lips.

And then you lean down and start giving small kitten licks to his dripping cockhead before your hot, wet mouth starts slowly enveloping him, bobbing your head with lewd wet noises and purposefully drooling all over him. Messy. Obscene. Painfully driving him mad with lust.

“Darling, please.” He moans hoarsely.

You pull back with a smirk “Hmm? Are you about to break your own contract? My dearest Zhongli?”

He huffs and growls, shaking his head.

As easily as he could break out of these ‘restrains’ he had made a deal with you, so all he could do was toss his head back and endure.

And oh… you could definitely see the appeal of being the one in control.

The lord of Geo. The mighty Prime of the Adepti. Bound and muzzled like a feral beast. Squirming under your touch.

You kiss down along the side of his impressive cock, lightly tracing a vein with your tongue and making it twitch. “Hmmm… seems like you’re all ready for me.” Zhongli gasps as your fingers follow the fine trail of hair from his bellybutton down, teasingly. “It’s my turn.”

For a moment he thinks the torture is over and you’re satisfied with your small game. You’ll release his arms, or at least take off the horrible muzzle (“no biting tonight, dearest.”) and allow him to eat you out to his heart’s content.

How wrong he was.

Zhongli’s eyes widen then he scowls and jerks into his restrains again, shuffling on the bed when he sees you pull out one of your toys. He glares at you. You wouldn’t.

You smirk in response. Watch me.

“Relax…” You smile, sickly sweet. Leaning back onto a pillow and spreading your legs. “Just enjoy the show, darling.”

You start by teasing your entrance, gently, slowly. Caressing and pinching at your clit and slowly easing the oiled tip of the object into you. A rather special geo construct of Zhongli’s own creation. Sweet irony.

“Hmmmm…Ah…”

He snarls, glaring at the offending object as you slowly feed the fake cock into your pussy, inch by inch stuffing you as you let out a quiet moan. He knows you wouldn’t be satisfied with such a… crude and lacking replacement, no. He knows you ached for him, his warmth and thickness that could fill you so much more, satisfy you so much better.

You bite your lip and whine as it bottoms out.

“This one is… hah… rather accurate huh? … hng!” You mewl, squeezing your eyes shut as you start pulling it out only to push back in. “A-ah- fu-!”

He tries to keep calm. By Celestia, he tries. But the sight of you, naked and sweaty, presenting yourself so freely and displaying your pleasure, makes it excruciatingly difficult. You rock your hips and moan his name, high-pitched. Getting more and more used to the intrusion and thus increasing the speed.

“Z-Zhongli, baobei” You keen. “Wouldn’t you be a dear and apply a bit of resonance?”

A growl. “I would rather have you myself, my love.”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Of course. But don’t you want to see me come undone first? We do have a contract and for now you have to do as I sa-a-y Ah! Oh fuck-!”

You bite your lip, whining, eyes rolling back and hips moving on their own when the geo construct indeed starts buzzing low on your hand and inside your pussy. The sensation drives you up to the edge of that high, delicious simmering heat all over your body and pooling at your navel. Feel so good, so good-

“Zhongli, Zhongli, Zhongli-”   

You come with a cry of his name as your body arches away from the mattress, high-strung with pleasure, free hand clawing at the sheets. For a few seconds you lie there basking in the afterglow, chest falling and rising rapidly until you sit up and slowly pull the toy out, shuddering at the wet squelch.

Your gaze sets on the man in front of you, looking absolutely pent-up with sexual frustration. Cock pressed up hard against his abs and smearing tacky precum everywhere.

You scoot up to him with a playful smile, eyes half-lidded as you sit upon his lap. You brush your hand down before bringing it back to run a slick-covered finger over the muzzle, the metal turning shiny and no doubt getting impregnated with the scent of your arousal. You see him open his mouth and pant slightly, sharp fangs on display, nostrils flared, eyes half-lidded and pupils brown wide as he chases the path your finger makes.

Oh, he is absolutely drunk on you.

You place your hands at his shoulders for leverage and this time (finally!) slowly envelop his cock with your warm pussy.

 “Now’s your turn…”

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 1

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Test dialogue animation

[butwhatifidothis]

I guess the ultimate thing that kills CF for me - or at least nudges it away from me saying I definitively like it - is just how much Edelgard is clearly written with the player in mind before she's written with her character in mind.

Because on all of the other routes, there's a power to Edelgard's presence. Even on BE, there's a sense that for as lonely as Edelgard might be, she still ultimately will do whatever it takes for her to get what she wants. Be that be killing her citizens (or otherwise letting them be killed), endangering her friends, assisting in kidnapping people, allowing Byleth to support her only when they have the Sword of the Creator, covering for TWS - no bar is too low for her to limbo under if doing so means she's even a step closer to her goals.

She's manipulative! She's deceitful! She doesn't care for the lives of her people! Even her friends are forfeit if they try to stand in her way! And this happens no matter how close you, the player, get to her, in the case of BE - C+ ain't stoppin' Remire, and going to the coronation ain't stopping the Holy Tomb.

And in the war phase, she is dominating the field. She has the Kingdom completely on the ropes, down to a few houses standing against Imperial rule, and the Alliance is stuck in neutrality - she may not be able to do much to it, but neither can they do anything to her (to say nothing of the Alliance houses who stand with her). She's far from the underdog in this race, and she shows off how threatening she can be.

CF? Her route?

She scweams at scawy rats. She gets embawwassed when you find her dwawings. She's just so wonewy, and she's just so gwad that you chose her. She somehow fails to capture Rhea, or frame Dimitri for regicide, and so now has to deal with that on the Kingdom's side of the war. But that doesn't stop Elly Welly-kins fwom twying to find her pwecious teacher, because you're just so important to her. She cwies and hugs you when you meet her in the Goddess Tower!! Because she missed you so much!!

It's like... Dimitri and Claude certainly show different sides of themselves on their respective routes. It's the whole point! You grow closer to them and thus see how they treat those close to them, as opposed to being the Kinda Neat Teacher they see run along every now and then. But, like... Claude doesn't become a blushing maiden whenever Byleth speaks with him on VW. Dimitri doesn't scream at scary rats and get called cute for it on AM. They don't get Basic Bitch Gap Moe Traits slapped onto them that are only ever shown to the player and only on their routes. Unlike Edelgard.

Dimitri's endearing trait is that he's this big huge dude who can bench-press forests and arm-wrestle god who still wants to learn to sew and who teaches kids to protect themselves and who buys candies for his friends. Claude's endearing trait is that he's this mastermind planner who has contingency and lie and obfuscation as three separate legal government names who still wants everyone to be safe and happy and hold hands and be friends.

Edelgard is strong, confident, and willing to do some of the shittiest things known to man for her goals. Her endearing trait is that her screams are cute. She's shy about her drawings of the player character. She blushes over the player potentially joking about having sex with her per her JPN version of her C support; you know, the one about how Byleth walks in on Edelgard muttering in her sleep from a nightmare about her tortured family? Perfect time to joke about fucking her! Dimitri and Claude's endearments are, well, endearing; Edelgard's are all straight up embarrassing for her.

Hell, even the smaller stuff is affected! Claude's passion for poisons and mushrooms are things he has no qualms about having others know about, despite how weird they are. Dimitri laughing at shitty jokes brings him no personal discomfort or embarrassment, despite just how loudly he laughs at them. They have traits to them that can easily be uwu worthy, and they don't care! Of the lords, only Edelgard does! Because, it feels like, the only way for a strong, resolute female character to come off as approachable is if she's knocked down a few pegs for specifically and only you, the player.

And that sucks ass! I'm sorry, but when I'm playing Edelgard's route I don't want to deal with her hiding herself away in her room for a month IN THE MIDDLE OF HER FUCKING WAR because she's just so embawwassed! It is so fucking insensitive that Edelgard is literally the only lord of the three who can have her trauma openly belittled at any point in the story by Byleth, all to have some cheap cutesy uwu moment about her fear of rats (calling her screaming in fear cute and INSISTING that it's really cute which is just. Fucking ew man)! Why can we fucking mock Edelgard's manner of speech during the MASSACRE OF REMIRE?

This shit doesn't happen to Claude or Dimitri! And saying "oh just don't pick those options then" is bullshit because no equivalent options exist for the male lords! It's piss-boilingly annoying that the second you choose to see things from the strong confident villainous ambitious female lord's perspective you can reduce her down to this bumbling moeblob just for you (sometimes unavoidably!) like!! Dude!

[sesamenom]

went through some old files so heres a wip dump, featuring my horrible file names (incidentally also the reason why i had to go through everything to find a specific old file whose name i forgot)

ophelimae (put on hold bc i coulnd't figure out how to make the water work)

maglorconcert (teenage & adult maglor, put on hold bc the stadium perspective for the adult chunk was annoying)

feanorgame (concepts for a feanor survives au)

aaabalrog maglorsing

bbmaglor peredhelhiding (self explanatory)

ee2 (teenage elrond & elros. i don't actually remember which one is which in this pic)

bombadil (evil seasonal santa bombadil? i have no clue what the context here is but it looks like it was supposed to be included in a reblog of something)

wingdesign (wing armor design for rev gondolin prince elrond)

maeco1 (unfinished comic about how maedhros somehow managed to get ambushed by a small army of iron balrogs)

crittery (concept doodle for a vaguely entish quadrupedal tree creature)

centaurchairs (centaur wheelchair and prosthetic designs)

doddle (cool robot?) hands (whose hand? idk)

hdragons (i really like how the shading on the red parts turned out but i forgot what brush i used ;-;)

[cyb3r-st4rz]

I love yapping about Alpha and Pebble being a little bit toxic for fun but I created a relationship analysis on accident while yelling at a friend about them (said friend has no fucking clue who I was talking about) so anyway, have 500 words of me rambling about Alpha and Pebble and why they are the way that they are:

edit: tagging @wrathofrats because they are like one of the biggest reasons I went down this rabbit hole

Alpha looks down on most of his packmates but not out of malice. He has a certain natural authority, being one of the oldest ghouls still topside. His mind works on the concept of strength and dominance. He’s not entirely just mean to his packmates, he simply sees his natural authority as something that elevates him. Again there is no bad intention whatsoever, he loves his pack more than anything. That arguably makes his “superiority” even more prominent. He has to watch out for them. When he was summoned the ghouls were treated like shit. Much like back in the pits, they had to fight for their right to exist everyday. Proving their value to the clergy over and over again because if they weren’t useful, what was stopping them from sending them back? Alpha loved Secondo but subconsciously never forgave him for letting his pack be ripped to shreds over and over again. Logically he knew Secondo tried, it cost him not only his status as papa but eventually his life. 

Maybe knowing all that explains Alpha and Pebbles relationship.

When Pebble was summoned he looked haggard and frail, not unlike any previously summoned ghouls but something was different. Alpha didn’t quite understand why but he felt the natural impulse to take a stand between the vulnerable earth ghoul and the members of the ministry present. He wouldn’t let them get close, he couldn’t let them hurt him. Eventually Omega managed to take Pebble to the infirmary. Still, Alpha wouldn’t leave his side, growling at siblings and only letting Omega get close enough to provide the needed care.

Pebble was recovering quickly but he stayed rather small. Earth wasn’t around anymore to assess his magical capabilities and the infirmary was too far from any form of nature for Pebble to make it known. So to Alpha that meant he needed to teach the ghoul how to stand his ground against the clergy. If he couldn't defend himself with his fists or his element he should at least have his words. After a few weeks of Alpha essentially bullying the poor ghoul, he started to shoot back. He unknowingly created a monster, as Omega liked to say. 

That's how their complicated relationship started. Alpha giving him shit to try and help him survive in the long run but Pebble not really needing that because, as it turns out Pebble was strong and confident in his magic, quickly proving to be one of the strongest earth ghouls the abbey had ever seen. 

Long after the last ghoul was banished, Alpha still had a hard time letting go of his past compulsions. It got easier over time. Seeing the pack he loved so much develop without the fear and apprehension he had grown used to. Despite everything, his tough-love-act almost turned into a coping mechanism. A pattern he’d fall back into every now and then. The only ghouls who’d put up with him then were Omega, who would just talk him out of it with his therapy bullshit, and Pebble. Pebble, who knows how to handle it, who knows that Alpha loved him not despite but because of the way he’d act and Pebble who understood.

[captain-astors]

Creature. (The rendered ones are referenced from manga panels)