#Not bad per se? But certainly a bit lacking

[catboybiologist]

What are your thoughts on Whipping Girl so far, and which parts of it have you read? I read the whole book, and thought it was well written and well researched— overall that it's a good basis for explaining many facets of transmisogyny (and oppositional sexism, among other things).

I read the 2nd edition, where she seems to discuss her privileges more outright, (i.e. white, passing, lives in Seattle, etc) compared... to the original, maybe where she didn't talk about that?

I'm TME, and it seems like Whipping Girl made a lot of TME (specifically transmasc TME) people Very Mad For No Reason, and I haven't heard many trans women (or transfem people in general) talk about it much. It seems like it's quite controversial and almost.... stereotypical or cringey or something? I'm not sure how to phrase it :/

That being said, I'm *not* asking you to speak for Every trans woman out there, just you :)

I enjoy your blog a lot, especially your positivity and gayness on the Tummy Tuesday posts, and I hope something makes you smile tomorrow! :)

I'm not very far in it at all, I pretty much just started yesterday. I'm also reading the second edition. Its def been really good so far, and I can tell its gonna be insightful.

I got it recommended many, many times because I started talking about how studying biology specifically helped me come to terms with my gender, but what finally got me to read it was PhilosophyTube's latest video, where she says Serano believes in subconcious sex. It was striking, because its somewhat different than the way I interpret sex and gender through my own lens of biology, and I felt I should go to the source material before passing my own judgement. Sexed up is probably next on my list.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 4.1k

TW: Mentions of past trauma and the episode Revelations, mentions of drug use, emotional exhaustion, blood, vomit, drinking, People hunting People, injury, swearing

A/N: idk why but this one was so difficult to write, but that means a part 3 so I can resolve the issues in the way I want to, and not be pissed with the middle bits. Also it's literaLLY been over a week, so sorry for the lack of Spencer content. I just completed my last first week of college so that was crazy.

Part 1

There was something that Spencer was not telling you. After an extremely emotional reunion that involved tears, and a hug that lasted for over two consecutive minutes, Spencer apologized to you. He said he was sorry. Now what for, you couldn’t possibly imagine then. But now? 

You were given seven days of paid recovery to help Spencer cope with the traumas he had endured. Spencer was given as much time as he needed. You managed to fuck around with the schedule, so that way you only worked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for three weeks, giving you ample time to spend with Spencer, while also providing him with space of his own to cope. He was an independent creature, so him needing a day to recover on his own made sense to you. But when he told you he was ready to come back to the BAU, you hesitated. 

You’re not stupid. Your PhD alone could counter that fact. But the profiling skills you had sharpened over the past two years were certainly a help. But you didn’t need to profile Doctor Spencer Reid in order to tell him that going back this soon was not the best idea. 

And he argued with you—yelled at you. The two of you had spats, and a couple arguments here and there, but nothing like this. He claimed you didn’t know him; that you didn’t have his best interests at heart. 

“It’s like you only care about what’s good for me and bad for me whenever it’s convenient for you.” 

Your jaw had dropped. You wanted to cry, but you were more so offended at the fact that Spencer had the audacity to claim you put yourself first. But you knew that wasn’t your Spencer, he was coping with trauma, and you were trying to care for him, support him.

“Spencer. You need to take more time and reall–”

“I’m done listening to someone who didn’t even show up to save me from digging my own fucking grave.” 

You ended up working that Thursday, going back to full time, leaving him to his own devices. Was it a little selfish of you to not speak to him and leave him to his own devices while he was coping with unspeakable traumas? Sure. But when Spencer spat that at you, pettiness took over, deciding that clearly he didn’t want to speak to you, so you wouldn’t.

When he came back, it was wrong. Something was wrong. Spencer was despondent, distant, not actually talking to you for days on end unless he had to. He would snap at people, specifically Emily and you. He would disappear for a couple of minutes at a time, appearing moments later when someone asked where he was. 

Which brought you to your conclusion, Spencer was hiding something from you. You knew, okay well you didn’t know per se, but you assumed he wasn’t cheating on you—you hoped he wasn’t cheating on you. You couldn’t blame him if he was, I mean seeking comfort when he needed it, and clearly whatever you were doing was just not enough. But you were hoping that he wasn’t sleeping around. The alternatives weren’t better, providing you with absolutely no comfort.

Your hypothesis led you to Hotch’s office. You knocked on the door, pushing the door in slightly, since it was already opened. You closed the door behind you once Hotch had given you the okay, the head nod of approval. 

He motioned for you to sit down in the chair across from him, which you did. Hotch always let you speak first, knowing you didn’t need the go ahead. It was something you appreciated about him. One day you would have to tell him how much you appreciated it. 

“I think Spencer is using.” It was blunt. It was emotionless. Not exactly what Hotch was expecting from you, especially since he watched as you held a broken Spencer in your arms right after they brought him to you covered in dirt, limping, injured, but alive. 

He nodded, and picked up his phone, calling Gideon into his office. Hotch had his own theories, his own thoughts on the matter, and so did Gideon. 

Once Gideon had sat on the arm of the chair next to you, you continued. 

“You don’t need me to tell a room full of profilers that clearly something is wrong with him. He’s despondent, he’s had moments where he’s an extreme aggressor, he’s been losing weight, he has the lines around his eyes—do I need to go on or did I just confirm your theories?” 

Gideon and Hotch looked at one another before Hotch spoke. “We were hoping you’d actually say he was just coping poorly, not with drugs.” 

You sighed and shook your head. “Hotch, I‘ve been at Emily’s the past couple of nights since we….had an argument.” Causing you to scoff and fiddle with the necklace along your neck. “But he’s definitely using, probably dilaudid since that’s probably what Tobias was using to subdue him.” 

“Have you confronted him about it?” 

“Have you?” You shot back a little meaner than you meant, but the sentiment still stood. 

“Well, what do we want to do about it?”  Gideon looked between the three of you, and before someone could come up with an answer, JJ had knocked on the door. “We have a cas—oh! Sorry. Sorry. We um. We have a case.” 

“We’ll be there in a moment. Thank you JJ.” Hotch nodded at her, as she exited, closing the door behind her. “We’ll discuss this later.” 

You nodded and stood up, exiting the office. You felt the eyes of the bullpen on you. But you just walked towards the round room, not a word to anyone. Your gaze shifted to Spencer, who was looking directly at you, brow creased, worry lines on full display. You eyed him up and down, a subtle challenge on your part, but nothing else as you left the room. 

“Pretty boy’s in trouble…” Derek smirked slightly, nudging Reid with his shoulder. But Reid just shot him a look before getting up and walking towards where you were. 

None of them had really seen you act like this. Something was wrong, and everyone knew it. You hadn’t had flowers on your desk for almost a week, there was no humming from your lips, and you were out the door right as the clock hit 5, not saying your usual goodbyes. 

Right as Spencer sat down in his usual seat, he went to speak, your name on his lips, everyone else entered. Another case, another excuse for you to not talk directly to him for the next thirty minutes. 

People were hunting people.

You, like most other public school kids in America, had read Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game, leaving you scared and questioning the real morals of humanity, only slightly boosting your own ego thinking of all the ways you could survive. Most kids had not taken the short story as an instruction manual, but apparently these two brothers did. 

The past few days apart have taken a toll on Spencer. He didn’t mean to push you away, except that he did, and the more guilty he had felt about it, the worse he felt. You were kind, and brilliant, and so caring, and pushing you away was the easiest answer. He didn’t mean to say that to you. He knew why you were told to stay back at the house, knowing you could have lost your job–but he wondered why you didn’t fight for him, he would’ve fought tooth and nail to be the first one to get to you, so why didn’t you?

But when you volunteered first to go into the woods where you could get shot through the heart with an arrow instead of checking the boy’s family home, he knew he was fucked, and some sick and twisted part of him thought he deserved it. 

You were just sick and tired of not being treated properly. You missed him, you really did. But if he was going to keep acting like this, if he was going to keep using, then he needed to make the executive decision about you both. It fucking killed you, but god damn if you weren’t the stubborn type. Spencer was just not used to being on the receiving end of it. 

When Spencer had heard that both of the brothers had been killed, he was relieved, regardless of the trail of bodies left behind, because you were still okay. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, you deserved better.

Hotch had followed your wishes, and gave you a separate hotel room, letting the team know that this really was a breaking point for you. When the whole team, sans you, returned to the police station, his blood pressure rose and it took everything in his power to remain calm, only being able to focus once Hotch had mentioned you wanted to go shower and change your clothes—you had received the heavy end of blood on your clothes, graciously donated by the eldest of the two brothers. 

Reid nodded, excusing himself. What if you were hurt and you didn’t even tell him, or anyone for that matter. What if you were just bleeding out on the floor of your shower, in a hotel room, all alone? The spiraling didn’t stop until he found himself at your hotel room door, unable to knock.

You had quickly made your way back to your hotel room, not wanting to deal with the attention you might have received for the gash in your arm. The blood blended nicely with the rest of the blood that had seeped into your once blue shirt, so no one was any wiser. The shower you had taken had helped a little bit, but now you had a major cut down the side of your inner arm, and bandaging it was good enough, for now. 

The bed was not comfortable enough for your liking, but it was good enough to lay on and stare at the ceiling, questioning all of the choices you had made up until this moment. Ignoring the pain in your arm, you just laid there. 

You were exhausted. Your relationship was exhausting. Your whole life was exhausting, and honestly, it would just be better if you took a moment to fall asleep and then just never wake up. 

But life had other plans. 

Spencer finally knocked on your door.  

You knew it was Spencer by the way he knocked. Short, quick, but in the same pattern he always had. 

“It’s unlocked.” You yelled, not moving to stand up from your location on the bed. It was unlocked because you wanted him knew he would show up. An aerial view might have rivaled Fuseli’s Nightmare, but instead of the luscious red drapes and printed silks, you were in a mediocre hotel room bed. The damp hair, the wounded arm, the distressed sheets framing your carelessly tossed body–it was the definition of a modern renaissance painting. 

Spencer slowly came into the room and closed the door behind him. 

“Spencer. What can I help you with?” You didn’t even look over at him, voice flat. 

“You didn’t come back to the station s-so I wanted to c-check in on you…”

“I’m fine.”

“Your arm–”

“--Is fine.” Your voice was sharp, cutting him off. 

“Are you–’

“Sure? Yes.”

“You haven’t been home in a couple of days…”

You scoffed as he said the word home. You knew he was standing near the edge of the bed, willing you to look at him. You felt him standing there, you heard the desperation in his voice. 

“What did I say?” 

“Spencer. I’d really rather not dance around whatever it is that’s been going on with you because I’d hope that you’d love me more than that, and if not, then at least you would have respected me enough.” You went to sit up, but winced as you put pressure on your arm. You should be glaring at him, and your face was definitely communicating that, but your eyes were soft and caring, like they always had been. You could never hate him, but you definitely required an apology for his previous behavior. 

He sighed and rubbed the palms of his hands in his eyes. “It’s complicated y/n.” 

“Enlighten me then.” You sat all the way up, hands clasped together, in your lap. “Please, tell me what is so complicated.”

“What were you doing in Hotch’s office before this whole case started.” He blurted out, hands fidgeting, eyes looking into yours. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“Because if you said something—anything to Hotch about the whole coping thing, I could lose my job.” 

“Is there a reason your coping would make you lose your job?” 

Spencer’s face twisted into something unrecognizable. His hand started twitching, he started to itch his arm. 

“You’re surrounded by profilers Spencer. And we know you’re hiding something. I know you’re hiding something. And I wish you—god Spencer you just pushed me away and I wish you would Fucking talk to me instead of the fact that you’re clearly coping in an unhealthy way—when’s the last time you actually slept? More than thirty minutes?” 

Spencer licked his lips, staying silent. 

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought.” You stood up, almost toe to toe with Spencer. God you missed him. Your body almost started to lean into his, wanting to kiss him, wanting to hold him, but you just walked around him, careful not to let him touch you at all. You grabbed your coat and wallet, and slammed the hotel room door shut. 

Derek had just opened his door, leather jacket on, sunglasses on his head. “You look like you need a drink sweetheart.” 

“You should be a profiler.” You snorted, pulling your coat on. 

“Your arm–” 

“--Is fine. Jesus Christ.” You started to walk but stopped and turned around, eyebrows raised. “Are you going to join me or what Morgan.” 

Derek gave you a mini salute and followed you as you walked down the stairs. 

You two ended up in some local townie bar, opposite sides of the booth. You had ordered a shot of tequila before getting something you can slowly sip on. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

You rolled your eyes and took a sip before sighing. “He hasn’t spoken to me one on one in a week, and the first thing he said to me was asking if my talk with Hotch before this case was about him. Not how are you, not even an ‘I miss you’, he just pointed out that I haven’t been home like no shit Sherlock, I know I haven’t been home.” 

Derek nodded and took a sip of his drink. 

“I just—honestly, can we talk about anything else right now? I really don’t want to think about it right now.” 

Derek smiled at you, putting his beer down. “So JJ is one hundred percent seeing that detective from New Orleans.” 

You laughed and nodded. “Acting as if we can’t hear her when she takes phone calls from him. It’s ridiculous..”

Derek was a godsend. He had seen you in the hallway, slamming the door, and knew you had needed someone to go out drinking with. He distracted you, pulling topics out of his ass just to help you keep your mind off of Reid. He even helped you walk back, not that you were blackout, but walking in a straight line was not your strong suit at the moment. Once he had made sure you had made it into your room, and we’re settled on the bed, he knocked on Spencer’s door. 

Reid opened the door, slightly confused as to why Morgan was knocking on his door at 2 am. “Yeah?” 

“Fix this. Whatever it is that’s going on…” Derek felt bad for Reid, he really did, but he was not about to condone whatever shitty behavior Reid was on right now. “I’ll see you in the morning, pretty boy.” And with that, Derek placed your room key in Spencer’s hand, and then went into his own room.

Spencer stared at the key, not really sure what to do, but eventually he found himself opening your door, and called out your name. 

You were draped dramatically over the toilet, a renaissance painting if you would. You let out a groan, regretting the last two shots of….something you don’t really remember. You heard Spencer toe off his shoes and make his way into the bathroom. 

“Oh honey…” he whispered, sitting down next to you. 

“I’m so mad at you.” You whispered into the toilet, clearly too drunk to let your filter cover anything you felt. “Like.” You hiccuped and groaned. “You called me a whore in front of all my friends, knowing it wasssn’t true..and then after a week of me”–another hiccup and groan again– “helping you and holding you….you push me away like you don’t even love me.” 

If Spencer could see your face, your eyes would have melted him on the spot. But he didn’t need to see your eyes to hear your voice crack. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He whispered, hesitantly putting a hand on your back, rubbing his thumb up and down.  

“That feels good but I’m still mad.” You grumbled. After a quick inhale, “No.” 

“No, what?” 

“No, I'm gonna throw up. Fuck. Oh god I hate it Spence it tastes so gross. No no no.” You mumbled, sitting up on your knees, forehead on your arms as you coughed into the toilet. 

Spencer sat up with you, kissing the back of your head, fully rubbing your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. Let it out.” 

“Shut up. No.” You mumbled, the pet name making your head even more dizzy than before. “I refuse to vomit.”

You kept coughing, doing your best to not vomit, really really trying so hard. 

Spencer cooed your name. “The sooner you throw up, the better you’ll feel.” 

“That sounds like a lie the government made up.” You grumbled into the toilet.

Spencer laughed at you, still rubbing your back. 

“God you probably think I’m so fucking ugly.” 

Spencer shook his head, forgetting you couldn’t see him. “No. No. I promise baby. I still think you’re the prettiest FBI agent on the planet.” 

“Is there some CIA agent I need to worry about?” You joked before shaking your head. “Don’t look at me Spence. I’m gonna vomit and it’s gonna be so ugly and you’ll never ever want to kiss me ever again.” 

“Okay well that’s not true.” 

“Promise me you want, wait no, won't watch.” You mumbled, your breaths becoming shorter. 

“I promise, I promise.” He rubbed your back as you vomited, absolutely breaking his promise, making sure you didn’t choke or pass out or worse. 

Once it was over you let out a groan. “Mother fucking Christ. My mouth tastes so bad.” 

Spencer flushed the toilet for you and handed you some toilet paper for you to wipe your mouth with. “Thank you.” 

Spencer kissed your head again. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been home.” You mumbled, resting your head on your arms, face in the toilet bowl again. ��It just feels like you didn’t want me home.” You whispered, and if not for the echo of the toilet bowl, Spencer was almost certain he wouldn’t have heard you. 

“I always want you home.” He kissed your head, reaching for one of your hands to make you look at him, causing you to tilt your head, still laying your head on your arms. 

“Full disclosure?”

Spencer nodded at you, kissing your hand. 

“No Spence, I need to hear you say it.” 

“Full disclosure.” 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you going to make me make you admit to me what’s been happening.” You sighed. 

Spencer looked down, fiddling with your hand, staying silent. 

“I did talk to Hotch about you.” 

He looked up at you, eyes mixed with emotions flashing between hurt, shame, embarrassment, but you saw a moment of relief, an exhale, somewhere in there. 

“He and Gideon have their own theories about it, Spence but ...whatever it is, I want you to come to me, I want you to talk to me about it. I’m only going to leave if you push me away.” 

“When Tobias would, uh, appear…” you nodded, letting him continue. “He would uh, he would…” 

“Dilaudid?”. 

Spencer nodded. 

“You know you’re—please hold.” You mumbled, and you started coughing again. 

“What did Morgan give you, my god.” He mumbled. 

“I drank of my own accord thank you very much.” You grumbled, not exactly thrilled at your predicament either. 

Spencer pursed his lips. 

Tobais Hankel had a gun to his head, ready to end his life, and all Spencer could think about was you. Your face, your hair, your hands, your lips, you. In his last moment, he didn’t want to see Hankel, he wanted to see you. 

But then he saw the flashlights, heard the rustling, and you were coming to him. God he couldn’t wait to be in your arms, he couldn't wait to sleep in your arms. 

He quickly overcame Tobais, snatching the gun from him, and eventually shooting him. He heard Hotch’s voice, he heard the running, he heard Tobais as he died in front of him, but he couldn’t hear you. 

The team helped him up, helped him walk away, but why weren’t you with them? The cars were empty, no one inside of them. The only answer he had received from hotch was that you had been ordered to stay behind but why didn’t you fight for him? 

Only when the car pulled up to the police station did he watch as you shoved your way through the doors and some officers, eyes scanning quickly across the three black SUVs, not knowing which one he was in. 

Your hand never left your neck, breathing quickly, analyzing all of the faces that came out of the cars, watching and hoping they would have him. He watched as you became more and more anxious, not seeing his face. 

Suddenly, Gideon opened the door for him, and helped him out the car. Blood stained his pants, dirt covered half of his body, and he was sure he smelt like fish guts and death, but the way you whispered “oh thank god” when you saw him, made him feel a million times lighter. 

Your arms were around his torso right as he heard the car door slam shut, causing him to jump at the contact and the noise. He felt the tears coming to his eyes, and your tears on his chest. 

“I watched you-you…” You whispered, holding him tighter, as if letting him go meant he would disappear forever. 

“I know, I know. I lo–”

“Spencer?” Your eyes were scanning his face. “You went quiet on me.” 

His eyes snapped back to you, feeling the cool tile beneath his hand as he exhaled. “Sorry. Just…thinking.”

“That’s never been too hard for you before.” You snorted, giggling at how absolutely hysterical you were. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Thanks sweetheart.” 

“You’re so welcome Spence.” 

He watched as your eyes started to close, body slumping as you struggled to stay conscious. 

“Let’s get you to be yeah?” 

You mumbled something he would only assume was “no” and peeled your head off of the toilet anyways. 

Getting you to abandon the toilet and back into your bed was one of the hardest things Spencer Reid has ever accomplished. The bed was way too warm, and not as cool as the tile floor, causing you to mumble profanities at him the whole time, fighting against his help. You also were starting to doze off, meaning Spencer couldn’t fully walk you to bed, causing you to grumble even more at the fact that you had to be standing, and moving. 

Once you were horizontal on the correct surface, Spencer went to speak to you, but you were no longer conscious, drifting off to sleep the second your head hit the pillow. 

He kissed your forehead, and headed towards the door, a smile on his face as he heard you mumble those three little words. 

“I love you too.” He whispered back, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. 

Maybe all of this wasn’t irrevocably damaged, maybe he wasn’t irrevocably damaged, and maybe, he could fix this. 

Next Part

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: no one has ever wanted to be tagged in my work before so I’m HONORED. Im absolutely willing to add more people to be tagged in this mini series if anyone else wants to be! but this is for you girl boss <3

@raely-study

[flock-of-cassowaries]

So my hot take on NBC Hannibal is that is is a remarkably and relentlessly cynical story, in that every. single. character. abuses the power vested in the virtue of their profession.

Like, all the cops, all the doctors, all the psychiatrists.

Almost all the murderers, too - the bee lady is killing clients, as is the mushroom man, and the social worker; Randall Tier and Mason Verger are using the tools / items available to them from their jobs to commit murder; and Tobias Bunch and Garrett Jacob Hobbs are transforming parts of their victims into materials they use / sell at work.

The only characters I can think of who are not show to be ludicrously unethical at their jobs are:

1. The pharmacist-colleague of the Mushroom Man whom Jack inexplicably screams at;

2. Will’s long-suffering s2 defence lawyer;

3. Georgia Mädchen and Abigail Hobbs (no jobs, Literally Minors™️);

4. The child-kidnapper from Oëuf (no job); and

5. The Angel-Maker (deus diablus ex brain-tumor).

…but of the law-enforcement / law-enforcement-adjacent characters, we have:

- Hannibal

- Jack (routinely flouts rules and does things that endanger his subordinates and which are probably illegal; which, points for verisimilitude, I guess)

- Zeller (leaks info to Freddie Lounds)

- Beverley (a bit more of a stretch, but I’m fairly certain showing an accused serial killer / mental patient confidential information on other crimes isn’t okay; and she definitely broke into a suspect’s house without a warrant)

- Chilton (the most unethical psychiatrist since the CIA stopped funding the Montreal Experiments)

- Alanna (starts out straight and narrow, but becomes willing to take on the role of her ex’s keeper - incredibly unethical for a psychiatrist, especially with a patient being held in custody)

- Will (again, starts out reasonably ethical, but then slides into such ends-justify-the-means nonsense as [1] defiling corpses; [2] traumatizing museum staff with defiled corpses; [3] knowingly eating human flesh; [4] warning a serial killer of his imminent apprehension; [5] attempting to use various serial killers as tools to kill and/or bait other serial killers; and [6] attempting to extrajudicially execute a serial killer [via cliff]. )

And like, technically, you could just read it as “Hannibal’s influence corrupts those around him”; that certainly seems to be the case with Alanna and Will.

(And arguably, that is how we’re supposed to read Jack, but… as the self-appointed president of the Jack Crawford Hate Committee - fuck Jack.)

I think Hannibal would certainly find it flattering to read it that way. It would appeal very much to his narcissism.

It’s also quite possible that was the writing team’s authorial intent, too.

But that is absolutely not how people work.

Hannibal would’ve encountered people who were just stubbornly immovable in their refusal to endanger patients / subordinates / whatever.

And people who just found him creepy.

People who got a bad vibe the first time they met him, and just refused to ever reassess their first impression - not particularly fair, in most cases, but there definitely are people who operate that way.

And sure, perhaps Hannibal would have just killed some of them, but… we never see that happen. It’s just everyone in Toronto Baltimore, in every profession, is apparently either just as laughably crooked as the real RCMP, or as corruptible as soft cheese on a hot day.

Tangential postscript:

This inspired me to read the Wikipedia article on “Controversies surrounding the RCMP”, and while I will not get into the horrifying details, this sentence made me laugh out loud:

“A subsequent public inquiry concluded that the RCMP was at fault, showing a lack of professionalism…”

Which like… yeah. Technically true.

Sort of like saying that Andrew Tate lacks a firm grasp of intersectional feminism.

But not incorrect, per se.

[queenlucythevaliant]

this is re: a super old post lol but when does harry potter make mischief just for the heck of it? yes he breaks rules but it’s always for a decent reason as far as i can remember, not just for kicks and giggles (tbf i haven’t reread in quite a while)

You're referencing this post, correct?

I don't think I was saying that Harry Potter makes mischief just for the heck of it so much as that he has a very ends-justify-the-means mentality when it comes to mischief making. He's perfectly content to lie to authority figures, even those we know to be Good, because he is fundamentally mistrustful of authority. He breaks the rules all the time because he doesn't believe that the rules are there for a good reason. (And, to his credit, he is often right about these things.)

Fred and George are a good example of the "agents of chaos" mischief makers I mentioned later on in those tags, as are Harry's dad and co. The code phrases for the magical map they all use are literally "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" and "mischief managed." The series as a whole had a very pro-rule breaking bent to it that doesn't really come up against many ethical lines. Lying to authority figures is fine because authority is Bad. Pranks are to be celebrated, even if not everyone enjoys them. Why not cut class with candies that make you sick? It's all in good fun.

The point I was trying to make in the original post is that Corin in HHB is a really good counter-example to this attitude around mischief making: both Harry's attitude and that of the series as a whole. Corin is a character who enjoys breaking rules, causing a bit of chaos, and getting into fights for fun, but he's very ethical about it. He's fundamentally unwilling to lie about said mischief, even if he could totally get away with it. He threatens to knock people down all the time, but he only really does it when people disrespect Queen Susan. Even the city guards who try to lock him up during his day of escapades get tricked into drinking wine and falling asleep, not beat up. Shasta even comments that Corin looks abashed when he gets in trouble with his dad. He's respectful of the authority figures in his life.

I don't know, I just think that the two series have very different attitudes around mischief and trouble-making. I don't think Harry Potter's attitude is bad, per se - and it's certainly not unique among children's books, many of which have a real lack of trustworthy adults - but I find HHB's attitude really wholesome. I genuinely love that Corin, the most mischievous character in the series, genuinely cannot fathom lying to Edmund.

[greenerteacups]

Re: Hermione’s parents. To me it always felt like THEY were also very responsible for being out of the picture. First year Hermione is a child who feels like breaking the rules is worse than death and is very sure that she is going to be expelled at any given moment. Her attempts at making friends are laughably bad. We can assume that she had difficult relationship with authority figures growing up, where she had to be perfect or else.

Mr Weasley is shown to be trying to make contact with the Grangers through a topic that is interesting and not intimidating to them, and we never hear about him getting hit back with “yes yes electricity, now tell us everything about your world”, which seeing that Arthur Weasley is a grown ass man who actually can be quite subtle was presumably the point.

Finally, Hermione obliviating her parents tells us a lot about Hermione, true, but it also tells us everything about her perception of them. A 17 year old teenager thought that it wasn’t a big deal to erase all of her parents’ recollection of her, maybe permanently. To me that action speaks of anger at them but also complete and utter lack of belief that they want to do anything with her.

I thought it was a very sad thing happening to Hermione behind the scenes, one that Ron might have been aware of, but not Harry.

Arthur's interactions with the Grangers are an interesting point. I agree that it's probably an overture to the Grangers, with the bonus of being something he likes talking about; Arthur is restoring a car engine, he almost assuredly knows how electricity works.

I don't know that we can assume Hermione had strict parents per se, though. Book 1 gives us a very realistic portrait of a socially awkward eleven-year-old whose inability to connect with people her own age, due to some combination of being smarter than them and a bit stuck-up, has manifested in a desperate desire for approval from older role models. She doesn't seem to be afraid of them; she's not afraid of McGonagall or Dumbledore, and she's certainly not afraid of Snape, though she would have the most reason to be. She just wants them to like her, and probably all the more because she knows most people don't.

We do see that as the series goes on, she develops a distaste for authority, particularly authority that's abused, but that seems like a natural consequence of Hermione never facing any consequences for breaking the rules. Her fears rotate more around being expelled, and losing access to the world of magic, than they do being 'punished' as such by McGonagall or Dumbledore. She's not afraid of them, she's afraid of failing. It's a subtle difference, but an important one for her relationship with her parents, I think.

I agree that it indicates a staggering problem in their relationship when she basically writes off her value in their lives, though I'd add that we don't know what or if they talked to her about the war beforehand. It strikes me that we actually don't know most things about the circumstances of Hermione Obliviating her parents — did she try to talk it out with them first? Convince them to flee? Did they refuse? Was this a first resort, or the last? All of those change what we might think of the Grangers' relationship with their daughter, and we just don't have the answers to those questions in the book.

[itsnothingofinterest]

Thanks for answering my previous question! It is always interesting to read your thoughts and analysis :)

It would be great to know your opinion on another issue. Doesn't the Endeavour apology scene seem a little strange to you? Why did he apologize to Touya just for not coming to Sekoto peak? As if there was nothing else for what Endeavour should apologize to Touya? At the same time, the rest of the family received a fuller apology (for example, for neglect for Natsuo).

Why do you think that is? Does this mean that Endeavour does not realize that his fault to Touya is not only that he did not come to Sekoto peak? Or is this a hint that the conversation between Touya and Endeavour will continue and Endeavour will be able to admit guilt and apologize for his other actions and inaction?

Endeavor's apology seems weird and bad to me for a number of reasons, but yeah that'd certainly be among them.

Like sure, not coming to Sekoto Peak was a big event between the two as the straw the broke the back of the camel that was Touya's hope in his father loving him, so apologizing for that isn't wrong per se; but it does stand out as you say when the apologies everyone else is getting are more board.

I do think it'd be in character for Endeavor to still not realize the entirety of just how much he neglected and abused Touya. (Or some of it could be dodging full responsibility still). Because Endeavor knows he's bad, but every step of progress he's ever made has seemed to involve coming to grips with another new thing he realized was bad; it's like he never got, or at least not been willing to acknowledge, the full scope of what he's done. And then sometimes he'll apologize if we're lucky, but not otherwise change his behaviour.

(I think my biggest complaint about Enji's arc is that, aside from his words, he's never done anything the Endeavor we first met at the Sports Festival wouldn't have done. A bit of a problem for a character who wants to be defined by his actions.)

Anyway, while I do think more discussion between the two of them would be good...maybe (especially if it could be at a later date when Dabi's not brain damaged), I really don't really know if Enji's planning on having more to say if that's what you mean. He does invite Touya to tear into him more on the one hand, so maybe he has more to say too; but immediately moving on to the rest of the family does give the impression that he said what he thinks is his piece to Touya. My lack of faith in him in general leans me towards the latter read, he is very mediocre as a father at the best of times, but who can say?

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = Testing my feetsies with writing the big man himself, Gyomei.

C/W = F!reader // y/n. Strangers -> bed pretty quick, some fingering, oral [M->F], P->V & V->P, some negative self-talk that's quickly remedied. As always, if I missed anything (grammar etc.) horrific, lmk.

🔞 under the cut.

"Unknown Number"

Do you see that enormous man in the corner with his friends?" Your girlfriend asked as she was trying to be sly and not give away the position of her gaze. "He's ... he's ... fuck, he's huge."

You followed her line of sight and saw him in the back of the room. Sitting with a few other men. All of whom were equally as beautiful. But there was something about this brick wall of a man that made your whole body tingle.

His hair was jet black. His eyes a stark white in contrast to his short locks. His shoulders looked as though he could barely fit through the door of this restaurant. The calloused marks on his enormous hands sounded scratchy against the cloth of his pants as he casually rubbed his thighs.

He was beautiful, and that's precisely why he'd never bother with someone like you. You weren't ugly, per se. But you felt you lacked certain criteria that you made sure to convince your other friends they had. They always gratefully accepted your kind words but never found it in themselves to reciprocate the simple gesture.

"We have to go to the little girls room, be back in a few. Just order us some water." Your friends said as they scooted from the table.

You were alone now. No more chatter. Just the muffled sounds of your friends' voices on the other side of the room.

"Excuse me ... " a deep voice spoke behind you. You turn. It was the gorgeous man that you'd been ogling. He's standing right in front of you. "Your voice is so lovely. My name is Gyomei. What's your name?"

"My name is y/n. My girls should be right back. You can go tell your friends that."

He chuckles and shakes his head. His hands reach over to glide down your form. From head to toe.

"Ummm ... Is, is there something I can help you with ... what ... I ... my friends are probably more up your alley as far as looks g-"

"Shh. Not at all." Gyomei smiles. "Please don't feel as though you can't relax and talk to me because I'm lacking conventional sight. I see just fine. Don't doubt that. And you're beautiful." He gently caresses your cheek, making sure to catch his thumb over your lips before sliding it down your neck and to the valley between your breasts. "In fact, I'd like to know more about you."

You're a bit startled at how boldly he was touching you. It wasn't rough or unkind in any way. It was certainly something that was new to you. A man needing to touch you to see if you were up to his standards. It was a nice change of pace. You kinda liked it.

You don't know why, but you believe him. You do something completely out of character that night. You leave your friends and go with this stranger to his home.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" He asks. You reply, trying to keep yourself from stammering and blushing like a schoolgirl.

"I'm fine for now, thank you."

"What is your favorite color, y/n?"

"Um ... Red."

Gyomei laughs softly.

You swallow thickly as his hand glides down your arm.

You clear your throat.

"It's quite all right. Forgive me, this is how I get to know people ... and more intimately, the people I care about. I can stop if you'd prefer. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, y/n."

You nervously look at your phone and notice a few missed messages. You should probably go. But you're so taken with the stranger who sees with his fingertips that you're having a hard time convincing even yourself.

"What's wrong, y/n? You can talk to me."

"I should get home, Gyomei."

He starts rubbing your back until you relax and let out a small moan.

"That's too bad. But I understand. May I call a car for you? I do not like the idea of you walking alone this late at night." He said.

You really don't want to leave.

You're starting to give yourself the speech: My phone is 83%. I have full service bars. This is a nice neighborhood. I don't have work tomorrow. What if I stayed?

"Y/n," his large hand reaches up to your face and he tilts his head to the side and leans down to kiss your neck. It sends you into a near fit. "Oh," you whispered as the air left your lungs.

"Was that ok? May I do it again?" His voice was as heavy as velvet: It weighed you down so divinely and it felt so warm against your skin.

"Can I taste you?" Gyomei whispers in your ear.

"M-mmhm." You say as he lifts you into his arms.

He gently carries you to his bedroom, places you on your back, and moves between your legs. He hooks his thick finger under your dress and pulls your panties aside.

"Uh, p-please!" You beg as you move your hands to your pussy.

You gasp when he takes hold of your wrist.

"I can tell by your scent how much you want this. So you don't need to touch yourself. Let me make you feel good."

You nod and gasp when his lips make contact with the tip of your clit. You never knew having someone go down on you could feel so good. You feel so warm and relaxed. Gyomei pulls your legs open wider and dips his tongue inside you, moaning against your pussy as he tastes you. You can't help but cry out.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n. You taste so sweet." Gyomei moans as he runs his tongue back up to your clit.

You gasp when he starts rubbing your clit between his fingers as his tongue dips back inside of you.

"Oh my god," You cry.

He hums, pleased with himself.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes a finger inside of you and continues sucking on your clit. His tongue joins in, tasting all of you as you start to become more and more wet.

You cry out when your orgasm hits you and you feel him lapping it all up before pulling his tongue back. He then lifts his face and kisses your pussy and moves to lay beside you, petting your thighs.

"I want to feel your face when you cum for me." Gyomei says, rubbing your breasts.

"O-oh, ok." You whimper.

"Am I too rough?"

You shake your head. "N-not at all."

"You are very sensitive to my touch, aren't you? Just like me. I can feel it in your body, how soft you are." Gyomei purrs as he rubs his fingertips along your neck and between your breasts.

He grunts an exhalation when he feels your nipple harden under his fingertips.

"Gyomei, you're not just some blind guy from a sushi place, are you?" You gasp and cover your mouth. Ashamed at how brazen you just were.

Gyomei lifts himself up and brings his face closer to yours.

"No, not really. There's much to learn, y/n. I don't see a single thing wrong with me, though." He grins. "Your energy is very vibrant. And your hands ... I'm very much intrigued with your hands. They're the hands of a kind woman." He takes one of your hands into his own and kisses it. "But that is not all. The feel of your lips, the softness of your thighs. You have a small frame but your energy is big and strong." He continues.

You gulp. "You, you think I'm small?" You'd heard of people like Gyomei before. You knew how he could just tell certain things about you.

He rubbed your belly. A place you were always painfully self-conscious about. This might even be the first time you've ever let anyone pay such close attention to what you feel is one of your biggest failures.

He got close to your ear and whispered, "You're very soft and delicate. You smell of a very sweet spice. I could go on and on. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

You sigh contently as you grip his arms. He's holding you beneath him.

"I should go now ... I've kept you long enough." You whispered.

He nuzzles his face to your neck, inhaling. "Please, I want you here." He moans.

You tremble as his hands travel down your body. You're so turned on you can't even formulate a thought in your mind.

You whimper when he tugs down the zipper on the side of your dress, opening it and exposing your body.

"I want you. All of you." Gyomei purrs.

You yell out when he takes your panties and tears them from your body.

"Oh god." You whisper.

You're so wet now that if you walked down a flight of stairs you'd probably slip and die.

That's enough of a reason for you to stay.

Your first time together was so gentle it almost made you cry from impatience.

He was painfully slow. But you learned that it heightened every sense and nerve ending on your body.

"Y/n. Oh ... oh g-god, you're so tight." Gyomei whispers, kissing you deeply as he enters you.

You moan loudly as his hands grasp your thighs. Your legs wrapped around his waist. You were already so close you were losing your mind.

"Gyomei, m-more!" You cry.

You moan loudly as he moves his hand to your face, cupping it as his thrusts become harder and more urgent. He moans your name into the shell of your ear as you cling to him, squeezing his hips with your thighs. It hurt a little, but you wanted to be bruised.

"Gyomei," you mewl.

He kisses you and moves his hips harder, grinding as his cock deep inside of you.

He stretched you just beyond your threshold. It was the most delicious thing you've ever felt. Your moans grew louder until your body shuddered.

"Y/n ... not yet, not yet Kitten." Gyomei pants.

He keeps kissing you and fucks you harder until your orgasm washes over you again. You grip the sheets as you whine his name.

"Oh my god!" You cry out as he keeps fucking you through it.

You gasp and hold his face between your hands.

"You're too much!" You cry.

Gyomei chuckles, kissing you.

"Y/n ... please tell me what you need ... I will give it to you."

You gulp.

"I've ... I've never really been with someone ... who could do ... well, what you do." You say softly.

Gyomei moves his hands down your body and over your ass. He groans, feeling the soft flesh give in his immense hands. He grips your waist, running his fingers over the softness of your stomach and hips.

"You're perfect. Y/n, you're so perfect for me." He praises, kissing you.

"Fuck," you whisper, admiring him. He's perfect.

He groans, "Y/n." His fingers glide over your hair. He's petting you. You close your eyes, feeling the love in his caress. You get goosebumps as you say his name. His hands glide down your body, reaching up to grasp your tits. He's practically in tears, squeezing them.

"Oh ... god," You whisper.

He pulls you up onto his cock. You tremble slightly when he starts to thrust up into you.

"You feel it too?" He whispers, moving you on top of his lap.

You lay your head back, rolling your hips as he moves his hands in time with your ass.

"Gyomei, cum for me. I want to feel you let go." You say, feeling the hardness of his cock dip in and out of you.

Gyomei starts to lose his composure, kissing you deeply and holding your head in place as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. He pants heavily as he fucks you hard, his hands on your waist as he moves you up and down.

"I'm so close ... " Gyomei pants. You cry out as you feel his cock twitching inside you. "Y/n, y/n ... " He moans.

You bite your lip, watching as he pulls you down on top of him as he cums inside of you. You hold him as he fucks his load into your pussy, breathing heavily. He moves his head to your shoulder, kissing it gently.

"Y/n, I l–."

You gasp. "W-what?" You ask.

He pulls you off of his hips, lays you down on the bed next to him, and kisses you.

"I ... I ... don't know how to say it. I just feel so close to you."

You frown, wondering if he's going to say he's in love with you. But, it's not necessarily a bad thing. He's just saying what he feels. It's nothing more or less than that.

"It's not my fault I'm blind. But I have good eyes."

You scoff. "You are ridiculous."

He chuckles, "But ... you like me that way."

You smirk. "Maybe ... what do I get out of it?" You tease.

He gasps, "Oh g-god ... how do you do that ... I ... I don't know ... anything."

Gyomei grunts, pushing you back into the bed.

"I have never felt like this before." he says, kissing your neck. "The sun is coming up. Can you feel it?

You pick up your phone and turn on the screen and look at your text messages. "Oh, I have a couple of texts. Probably my friends checking on m–"

Unknown Number: It's Gyomei. Are you free this morning?

Unknown Number: I want to take you out.

"What the... ?" You say, more than confused.

Gyomei has since gotten up and dressed himself. He stands at the side of the bed with his hand outstretched to you.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to breakfast," he says with the sweetest smile on his face.

It took you a second to understand what was happening. "So, at some point last night, you put your number into my phone ..."

Gyomei laughed. "I had one of your friends sneak it out of your purse last night and she put it in for me. And when you got up for some water a couple of hours ago, I texted you, hoping you wouldn't hear it and check it right away. I may have been a little overzealous in my attempts at distracting you. But, what do you say? Will you have breakfast with me?"

"I would love to, Gyomei." You got dressed and the two of you walked to a café, hand in hand, and had tea and rice.

[leggerefiore]

Gift-Giving

cw: fluff, christmas holiday thing, n x reader

----

You watched the green-haired man curiously as he stared at the glowing tree in the Gear Station. He was unsure about how he felt riding the trains around Unova instead of getting around above ground, but you managed to convince, as the winter weather made you uncomfortable in trying to walk from Nimbasa to Lacunosa.

“Have you never seen a Christmas tree before, N?” you asked him, curious as to whether he had even celebrated the holiday. Ghetsis… certainly was not the type to enjoy such a holiday, you felt. He was quite lacking in more cultural knowledge, too. His pure excitement over you explaining the fireworks show on summer had been a pleasant one.

“No…” he nervously admitted, blue eyes glimmering with reflection of the lights, “What is it for?”

“You put one up and supposedly a special Delibird brings you a gift if you have been a good kid,” you told with a soft grin, “Of course, that's just what parents tell their kids to get them to behave.” His eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. You knew there was some time to kill before the next train arrived for Lacunosa, so you decided to let him enjoy the tree for a moment.

“Ah, love,” he suddenly asked you, “What is that supposed to mean?” He pointed to a giant nutcracker standing beside the tree. You stared at it. Whose choice was it to put this up? It would haunt your nightmares at how it stood just taller than you.

“I'm not sure, and I don't think I want to know,” you admitted and grasped his hand.

Perhaps it would be better to wait at your platform after all.

~

You stared around the shops with a worried thought plaguing your mind. Christmas was fast approaching, and you needed to get gifts for your friends and family… and N. He was completely absorbed in the holiday spirit, you would say. You did not think he was much a holiday type, but it seemed the idea of celebrating Delibird and giving gifts was enchanting to him.

Decorating your home with him was fun, but it struck you hard that he needed a gift.

What did he like?

Pokemon. Sweets. Unovan history. Not things you could really box for around a week or two.

Well, you did already plan to make a Christmas cake for the holiday, but that was not necessarily a gift for him. A shudder ran down your spine as you recalled his “room” in the castle Team Plasma had built. His struggles with maturing were perfectly understandable, but it felt mocking and cruel to get him a children's toy for Christmas.

Maybe… you pondered a certain toy store with something sitting in its window.

Maybe he would appreciate something like that.

~

You waved off the last of your friends and family as you shut the door to your home. Snow piled up outside thickly, as it did every year in your part of Unova. Many blamed the Giant Chasm, but Kyurem had since been captured. It could not be their fault. Unova's climate just enjoyed being torturous.

You re-entered the living room to find N sitting in his sweater warmly while a Darumaka tried desperately to crawl inside of it. Apparently, the little guy had got a bit cold. You grinned at him when he gave you a gentle smile. Walking over to the tree, you ignored the random television show put on as background noise. The gift was wrapped in Delibird themed paper. He tilted his head when you approached him holding out the box.

“What is this?” he asked, eventually daring to take it from your hands. It laid neatly in his lap as N considered it curiously.

“A gift from Delibird,” you joked and sat down beside him, “I got you something since you seemed in love with the holiday. You've been pretty good this year.” N… N was never a bad person per se. Just a deeply confused and misunderstanding one. He devoted himself to learning about the world and who he was, which led to vast improvements with himself. However, many, many scars remained on his identity from the upbringing Ghetsis forced upon him. You hated how confused he had been from the isolation and lies of his youth.

Now, you felt excitement as he tore into the wrapping paper to reveal the box proper. He opened the box and his eyes went wide. Pulling out the plush Zorua, he gazed at it brightly. “Oh… How cute,” his voice was soft as he observed the little details, “Thank you…”

“Not a problem! Haha, you look adorable,” you pecked a kiss on his cheek. His arms came around you tightly as he buried his face into your neck. Poor Darumaka whined from between you both, but you happily returned the affection to him.

“Merry Christmas,” you told him, and rested your forehead to his.

“Merry Christmas, too?” he attempted to respond.

You gave another laugh.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Strangely Human Rewrite 2: Pretend

[Dew struggles behind closed doors. This one is a bit heavy as a heads up, and deals with the rougher part of Dew's transformation into a ghoul.] Below the cut.

It has been a little over a week since the ghouls decided that they'd had enough of Mountain and Dew's petty little... whatever you wanna call it.

At the very least, Mountain can't ignore Dew anymore, not with a section of their shared wall missing, and, try as he might to cover the hole, Dew lacks the motivation to do anything beyond hang up Mountain's stupid beaded curtain.

Which, admittedly, doesn't look too bad.

Dew's honestly not sure why he's even still mad at Mountain, or if he's just mad in general.

It's hard to distinguish what's genuine anger and just... him being in irritable from feeling sick.

Dew doesn't have the energy these days to unpack his suitcases -still set in the middle of his floor mocking him- let alone pick through his feelings.

Perhaps that has something to do with it.

His lethargy, the perpetual feeling of malaise... it's one thing to deal with it behind closed doors, but now he has Mountain, who isn't in his space per se, but within sight more often than not these days.

Who shifts noticeably in his sleep whenever Dew gets up in the middle of the night or glances through the partition if he lays in bed for too long.

Sometimes, Dew's heart will warm a little when he sees Mountain's face pop into view from around the corner.

He tries not to be obvious with his concern because they're sort of fighting, but kind of not.

But, at times, it's... it's too much to be seen when he's feeling bad, and he knows the guy means well, but Dew needs his alone time, and he hasn't been getting much of that lately, and not just because he and Mounty are roommates now.

None of the ghouls are leaving him be.

Not since Aether discovered the rough patches on his skin had begun to spread.

"I... I don't know what's happening." he admitted, brow creased with worry as he tried and failed to make the scaly skin smooth out again to no avail, "I don't know how to help."

What's worse, is that the patches have started to itch now.

The only thing that seems to soothe the persistent ache is water.

Not lotion or a cooling balm -they tried that and it had burned so bad soaking into his skin that Aether all but threw him into the shower to wash it off of him- just water.

He spends a lot of time in the bath, soaking, leaving the door open so he can talk to Mountain even though they're totally still fighting.

Totally.

Neither of them have really apologized to one another, but Dew can only go so long sitting in silence before he starts to go a little stir crazy, and being sick certainly brings out the worst in him in that regard.

That said, it's nearly impossible to force two unwilling individuals to share a room, especially two grown adults, so, perhaps, the fact that Mountain has not abandoned his room, and Dew hasn't returned to his old accommodations is their own stubborn way of saying sorry.

Who knows.

Any which way, as Dew lets the water run over him like a dehydrated houseplant, Mountain is sat with his back leaning against the edge of the tub, fiddling with one of the bath toys Sunny had happily tossed into Dew's bathroom that morning.

It's a light blue crab with its eyes poorly painted on, made of a soft, hollow rubber that squirts water when squeezed, and although Dew had been a little annoyed being given something clearly for toddlers... he did have to admit it made wasting his days soaking in the tub a lot less boring.

"Hey, Mount?" Dew asks, shoving a small red and yellow octopus beneath the water, releasing it so he can watch it pop above the surface and bobble about.

"Yes?"

"Do you think... Do you think I'm dying?"

The earth giant turns to him, letting his elbow slip over the edge into the water, fingers still worrying the toy and frowns.

"I don't." he says.

"Why not?"

And Mountain pauses then, arm drooping further beneath the soapy water as he breathes.

Green meets amber, and in a voice so painfully small, he says...

"Because I don't want you to."

.

.

.

"It is possible that the last ritual had some delayed side effects." Papa says, wincing as he sees Dew practically clawing at his own neck, scratching at the long, angry looking marks already drawn there.

If he weren't so preoccupied itching, Dew would make some kind of witty remark, but his throat is sore, so he just glares at him, bemused.

"Then does that mean Dew is becoming a ghoul? Or is he... is he cursed somehow?" Aether asks, hopeful that it's the former not the latter.

"We suspect that Dew is undergoing the transition gradually, as opposed to all at once as the ritual was meant to do." Papa explains, "However... it's unclear which..."

He breathes in.

"It's unclear which element his body is shifting into..."

Aether tenses, "Elaborate."

"They tried turning me into water first." Dew says, cutting into the conversation, still dragging his nails down his neck, "Then fire. Twice."

"How come it didn't work the first time?" Aether wonders, grabbing Dew's hand to stop him from tearing at his skin anymore, "How is that even possible?"

"Well..." Papa clears his throat and sighs, "...we don't know. One theory that has been proposed is that Dewdrop already has a demonic attachment, which would explain why the previous rituals did not take... and, perhaps, that entity, the one preventing his transition, is finally tapping into the magic from the ritual."

"How would I..." Dew holds up his hand, "How the fuck could I have already been possessed and not know it?"

"I did not say possessed, I said you might have an attachment. It's not quite the same thing." Papa says, "But that's just one theory. I am more inclined to believe the second one, being that you may have had an ancestor who laid with a demonic entity at some point, meaning you were already technically a demon, and the rituals made it more... pronounced."

"...I personally do not wanna imagine being a monster fucker is a familial trait-"

"I mean that IS how the original ghouls were made..." Papa trails off, "But I digress."

"I don't think it's too much of a digression to imply that rawing demons may have lead to my current predicament... Maybe I caught something from the ghouls?" Dew mumbles, "Some kinda weird demon STD...?"

Aether frowns, "Dude."

"What? We all fuck around. A LOT. I'm just saying-"

Papa coughs into his hand.

"At any rate, we will look into the cause more thoroughly soon enough. Until then, monitor your symptoms and report any notable changes."

Dew pouts the entire way back to the dorms.

"That was completely fucking useless." he complains, scratching at his neck again, leaving the skin raw underneath his nails.

"Dew-" Aether starts, then tenses, "Dew, stop scratching, you'll make yourself bleed at this rate."

"It fucking itches." Dew grouses, then adds in a tired voice, "...It fucking hurts."

Aether furrows his brow, "It's only going to get worse if you keep that up. C'mon, let's get you back in the t-"

"I don't want to get back in the fucking tub, Aeth, I want to be able to actually get shit done, but I can't, because it feels like someone fried me and ran my skin through a cheese grater..." He hisses, itching the dry patches on his arms now, "I can't even fucking sleep-"

"You haven't been sleeping?"

Dew mumbles something under his breath.

"What?"

"I said of course I fucking haven't!" Dew cries, "I'm either shredding myself to pieces or trying not to drown, and any time I DO get the chance to lay down, my spine feels like someone is pulling it out my ass!"

"...You didn't mention the spine part when we had our check-up earlier." Aether says, "I told you to tell me if there was anything new! You-"

"I-" Dew gives a frustrated shout and stomps his feet, "I'M TIRED OF EVERYONE BEING UP IN MY BUSINESS, OKAY?!"

"D-"

"Every fucking day. Every fucking day! Someone is asking me, 'Hey, are you alright?' or 'How are you feeling?' and you know what?! I FEEL LIKE SHIT!" he digs his hands into his hair, "I feel like shit, Aether, and it's not getting any better."

"It's not getting any better..."

"Dew, it will. It will get better, it's just going to take time." Aether tries, reaching out to pull Dew into a hug, but as soon as his fingers brush the other man's sides, Dew flinches.

Hard.

"Fuck!"

Dew curls into himself.

"Dew?!" Aether startles, placing his hands on Dew's shoulders, "What's wrong?!"

"Don't touch me!"

.

.

.

So yeah.

Yeah.

Dew's getting worse.

A lot worse.

Every day seems to drag on and on and on.

And he doesn't sleep.

Just lays awake, too tired to even think of raking his fingers across his skin.

Mountain keeps the others updated, lets Aether in to check on him, but no one else really visits anymore, because every time anyone starts to speak, Dew snaps at them.

Physically.

He's taken to biting anyone who gets too close.

Even poor Rain, who had just been trying to ease his symptoms with a bit of his magic met the painful bite of blunt teeth.

"You should apologize." Swiss tells him late one night, sat beside his bed, he sounds like he's angry, or trying to be.

But more than that, he just sounds worried.

"When you're better, you have to-"

"Swiss..."

"Yes?" the multi ghoul asks, feeling hopeful.

That hope fades quickly as Dew rolls over to face him in the darkness, replaced with grief.

Dew's entire face is flaking like ash, like he's one breath away from being reduced to nothing but dust.

"...I'm sorry."

[inhuman-obey-me]

What are your thoughts on OG obey me not getting anymore lessons after 80? It worries me because it kinda feels like they are trying to kill it slowly.... This is making me not enjoy nightbringer because i thought i would be a spin off new game with a new story that we could play while waiting for OG obey me to come with season 5, but now it seams like nightbringer will be their only foucus and season 5 will never happen. Sorry this kinda turned into a rant just not liking what's happening now.

Yeah, we weren't too happy when we first heard about it, which was the AMA the devs did on Reddit. It was a shitty way to release that information, and it sucks that they really only said so when people ASKED if OG was going to get season 5/more lessons. It did create backlash right away, which we guess they were...attempting to avoid in the first place lol. But they definitely should have handled that announcement a lot better than they did.

In terms of what it means for the future of OG, we don't think they are trying to kill it per se so much as they just sort of...wrote themselves into a corner, and this was their way of hitting reset, on that and other things.

(no need to apologize for ranting, ours is even longer LOL -- rest under the cut!)

We definitely have some criticisms of the writing in Season 4, particularly how they squandered much of what was narratively set up in Season 3, and they didn't really set anything up on where it goes from there. It's also unfortunate that the original game is just going to be doing the same events as Nightbringer, rather than separate ones, which just means there's really nothing to motivate people to stay. And in that way, it does also sort of feel like a waste of all the effort people have put in to strengthen up our cards and grind affection and stuff, because we can't transfer ANY of that. They probably hope to continue that both sides will make money for them, but realistically speaking, it does feel like they are effectively just pushing everyone to migrate to the new game, and that the original is being sort of abandoned to just a maintenance mode kind of thing.

One thing they did note about the decision was that Ruri Tunes was originally supposed to just be an additional mode, but they decided to split it off as part of a separate Nightbringer game/story in order to not make the original "unplayable" with all they wanted to add and change "under the hood". Part of that, at least at a guess, may be due to the difficulty curve of the original -- despite them adjusting the difficulty in a patch, plus their zero-AP lesson battle promo campaigns, they probably were seeing a lot of drop-off just for people who gave up because they couldn't make it through those earlier lessons to even finish Seasons 2, 3, and 4. In that sense, it's good and bad to shift the continuation of the story to this new game even though they don't seem to have actually learned their lesson with the difficulty curve problem... But that's another thing they get to hit reset on by making a new game.

As for a Season 5, we do know from the same AMA that the story from the original is supposed to "continue" in Nightbringer, which suggests that it might pick back up from the end of Season 4 as effectively a Season 5, like maybe MC will make it back to their own time and continue from there, just in this other game instead of the original. Which, um, is certainly a choice on their part, especially since not everyone has the time or interest in a rhythm game. It kinda feels also a bit like this sudden time travel thing in Nightbringer may almost be a way of buying them some time while they figure out what to do as a continuation to the OG plot.

All of that said, however, considering the lack of direction for the original, we've actually been really enjoying Nightbringer's story! It dives into a lot of super interesting questions and content that fans have been begging for and brings back some of the darker themes from Season 1 that we've really missed, so even though it's not quite the Season 5 we've been waiting for, we're really hyped for the new content to keep coming!

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #31

[Cross-posted on AO3]

Fluttering his eyes drearily, the first thing Kytes’ gaze was met with was the old, rotting wood of what had once been a chicken coop. The crowded space and old, scratchy hay was hardly comfortable, but he had slept on worse.

The bitter cold of the shadow-curse subtly hummed like a drowned, hollow noise, and he once again found it hard to fully breathe right even with the light of the moonlantern shielding him, but none of the discomfort was enough to put him on edge and unsettle his sleep.

Just as soon as he was awake enough to have some of his bearings about him, enough to know his little hideaway was still secure from immediate threat, his eyes fluttered shut again, his awareness scraping to find its way back to the Prism and Rune.

His success wasn't immediate, drifting in and out of a half-aware sleep, but eventually he managed to find his way into an increasingly familiar dream space where the redhead was waiting.

“Now isn’t the best of times, you know.”

Kytes frowned at him, squinting his eyes a bit at how disapproving Rune seemed about his presence. “Why not?”

Rune marginally huffed, scrunching his eyes a moment in discomfort. “Aside from being in a perpetual battle of wills to keep the Absolute and their modified tadpoles from turning you into a Mind Flayer at any given moment?” he stated pointedly. “There are too many things that need my attention at the moment without dividing my focus amongst more.”

Kytes pursed his lips, furrowing his brow slightly in a rare, if subtle, moment of concern. 

“I just wanted to talk…” he defended weakly. “Face to face.” Or mind to mind, he supposed.

“About?” Rune didn’t sound entirely patient, per se, but he was at least humoring Kytes without immediately brushing him to the side.

Kytes inhaled in a beat of preparation. “About the dreams.” A moment of pause. “Or I guess… a lack of them, mostly.”

Rune was silent in invitation for him to continue.

“Most of my life I’ve been plagued by dreams. Nightmares, mostly… and bad memories. But ever since the goblin camp… for a while now, I’ve barely had any.” Only a few, and most of them ill gotten recollections. “So did you…?”

Rune smiled a bit, one corner noticeably curling up higher than the other. “ So you noticed that, did you?”

Kytes’ brows furrowed further. “Not straight away, but…”

“I did have a hand in giving you some nights of easier peace, yes…”

Kytes tipped his head slightly. “Why?”

Rune regarded him a moment. “Are you complaining?”

“I’m mostly confused. What do you get out of it?”

“Not much of anything, really.” That only perplexed Kytes more. He couldn't for the life of him imagine why Rune might spare him from the horrors of his own memories out of little more than the goodness of his heart. “But it does benefit me if you are better rested and clearer of mind to focus on the goal at hand. Reliving your past traumas would only distract and exhaust you.”

“I suppose there’s that…” It was certainly a more sensible and less altruistic answer. He fell silent a moment and further considered that. “And the dream from the other night?”

“An experiential test-run. Nothing more. To show you what I explained before in helping you with your memories.”

Kytes eyed him carefully, doing little to hide his wariness. “You went back into one of my memories and changed it.”

Rune hummed a moment before answering carefully. “In a way? Yes. But you’ve not lost anything by it. The original memory remains in-tact, as I’m certain you’ll notice. The memory of you falling and injuring your head,” Rune briefly gestured.

Kytes found his hand wandering to the soft spot on his skull where he had originally fallen, and the memory was vivid enough still. But even so–

‘That thing is scrambling your brain. Boiling away your memories! Do you even know who you are anymore?’

Once again, Gut’s words rang in the back of his mind like the unpleasant gong of a church bell overhead.

He knew better than anyone just how hazy his own memories often were, how hard it was for him to retain things long-term, well before he was infected. It was another symptom of his head injury as a youth. Would he even notice, if his memories weren’t really his anymore? He wasn’t sure if it was his thoughts, or if the intensity of his stare was simply too easy to read.

“You’re worried I’m deceiving you,” Rune voiced plainly.

“How can I be sure you're not?” It was a tired old argument, but one Rune seemed to be expecting. “How do I know you’re not trying to change who I think I am and manipulate me?”

“It's a valid question…” He trailed off with another wince, Rune’s attention sliding elsewhere for a moment as his gaze took on some distance. After a moment of distraction, his focus shifted back to the here and now. “All I can really do is ask you to trust me and hope that you do, but these altered dream memories… I am not looking to erase them and make you forget. That is not the purpose of my offer… simply to show you things as they should have been, had you been treated with the fairness you deserved.”

Even in dreamspace, Kytes felt tears welling in his eyes. “But it's not how I was treated, and playing pretend won't change anything.”

“No,” Rune cooed, moving closer to wipe a tear from his cheek. “It won’t. I can’t change what actually happened, but at least, perhaps, you can receive the comfort now that you should have had then. At least you can be understood and heard and seen.”

Kytes tentatively glanced up a moment, closing one eye as another thumb brushed over his other cheek to wipe the remaining tears.

“However, I will not be overriding your memories with fake ones or taking those away from you. Much as those experiences are a hardship, they also make you who you are. A survivor, despite the odds. It is only because of that that you have taken us this far. I would not jeopardize us now. However… when all of this is over with, I would take away all the memories that hurt you if you ask, but only with your permission, and only once I am certain that doing so will not put you in more danger.”

Admittedly, it was a tempting offer, but not so much that he was willing to jump straight at the chance. Not now, at least. Not yet. There were still too many uncertainties, including about Rune himself.

The hand that had brushed over his cheeks moved to the top of his head, gently petting over his hair, and he found himself leaning into it a bit despite his ever-present reservations.

“You sure have a lot of faith in me that I’ll live long enough to cash in on that,” he decided to say instead.

Rune laughed a little. “And you’ve not enough, but I have plenty enough for the both of us in the meantime.” Rune winced again and breathed out a tired sigh. “At least, for the moment. We are allies in this, and being allies demands that I dare not trespass on your trust. It would serve me no purpose to do so, nor do I want to. I would like to entertain your questions more, but I need you to be out there looking… and I need to focus on keeping you protected from the Absolute.”

Kytes huffed softly and rested his forehead against Rune’s armored chest plate, feeling the cold metal like ice against his pale forehead.

“That was all I think I had to ask about right now anyway…”

He felt -- more than saw -- Rune’s eyes soften on him. “Well, I’ll be sure to make more time for you later. For now, go.” He lightly tilted Kytes’ head back away from his armor, pressing a feather-light kiss to his forehead that made the blond momentarily freeze, his face unexpectedly tinging pink. “I’m counting on you.”

----------------------------

Fluttering his eyes open again was… a strange experience, to say the least. Nothing about his surroundings had changed. He was still cramped up inside an old, rotten chicken coop. His neck and shoulder was sore from how he’d slept, carefully stretching away the stiffness until the pins and needles stopped.

Yet it wasn’t anything physical that slowed him down, so much as the gloved hand that traced to his forehead, resting over the phantom of lips against his brow. Or at least, a dream resembling it.

His face felt hot, but maybe it was just from the juxtaposition of cold air in a place the sunlight never reached.

I’m counting on you.

No one had ever really trusted him with anything before. Of course, this wasn’t the first time Rune had expressed putting his faith in him, but something about this was… different.  

Maybe it was just that it only now was finally starting to sink in properly. That for once, someone was putting genuine trust in him to get something important done. He had been tolerated before, given chances before, but never had anyone truly believed in him. Never had the opportunities he’d been granted in the past come with affection. None that he’d wanted, at least.

The momentary thought gave him pause.

Did he want this? The thought gave him some amount of apprehension, but not as much as he’d come to expect. Most times, such an idea would send him into a panic, raise his pulse and make it hard to breathe, every hair raised on his body telling him to run far and run fast. No one could be trusted, but those who took explicit interest in him even less so. It always ended badly, with him taken advantage of and them getting away with any manner of crimes against his body without consequence. His skin was a map of scars proving as much.

But the idea of even basic vulnerability with Rune wasn’t even half as frightening as it should have been. Even the thought that it wasn’t should have been frightening in itself, but more than anything, he felt… curious .

Tentative, unsure of himself, but drawn in and wanting to know more. He didn’t think he’d mind going back to sleep a little longer, just to have a few more minutes curled up next to Rune like a cat finding perch on someone’s lap for a midday nap, expecting a gentle few pets while he dozed. 

It sounded nice. 

He should have hated it, recoiled at the thought, but it sounded nice.

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. It wasn’t a thought that would leave him be any time soon, but Rune had been right that he needed to get moving and try to make more progress against defeating this Absolute thing.

Strangely, what scared him most at the moment wasn’t this newfound connection to Rune. It was the thought of failing. Of dying without achieving anything. Of being denied the opportunity to find out if the security Rune offered him was real or not. Maybe, just this once, he dared to hope that the something that was there was genuine.

Another idea that had him briefly laughing under his breath in sheer disbelief.

For once, maybe just a little, he wanted to do more than just survive. He wanted to live, because of someone else.

Maybe all of his memories were in-tact, but maybe Gut had still been right, whether it was Rune’s intention or not.

Did he really know who he was anymore?

[dilatorywriting]

Thank you so much for the write up! It's not a ramble, it's all great 👏

Something I'm curious about, also, if you don't mind - In Heroes v. Villains, Do you see Rielle as one of Azul's bullies or just the prefect jumping to conclusions? I did notice it felt very open ended.

That's also something that seems interesting within twist itself - I was sure Niege was going to be a jerk, that seems to be the common trope when we follow villains as our protagonists - the heroes are actually pretty nasty.

But, no - he's actually a genuine sweetheart, just like Kalim. But also, just like Kalim commits the sin of obliviousness to other's suffering.

I think it's neat that they're exploring things less black and white here

- but all that babble just to ask

What are your thoughts?

I personally was working off the assumption that Rielle wasn't a bully so much as a bit of a ditz who didn't see much of the world beyond the scope of his own personal bubble (kind of like how Ariel acts at the start of the original animated movie). I was kind of aiming for a Mister Peanutbutter sort of vibe, if you've seen Bojack Horseman -- where he knows everyone, but only in a very surface-level sort of way, and everyone likes him but doesn't really have a concrete reason as to why other than "he's just that sort of guy!"

He's not meant to be a bad person, but standing to the side as your classmate is being bullied just because you can't really be fussed enough to care or notice... Well, that certainly doesn't make you a good person either. In the animated movie, Ariel makes a lot of rash, teenage, decisions that are very selfish because they're, well, teenage. She doesn't think about the implications to her family, or her friends, or really anything else. And I wanted to give Rielle that sort of vibe. He knows Azul! He knows he's smart, and quiet, and, well, that's it. Because it wasn't about him and whatever had struck his fancy that week, so he didn't really care.

So again, he wasn't meant to be a bully per se--just a flawed person doing flawed things. The level of tolerance for that sort of behavior (or I suppose, lack of behavior really) depends on the person dealing with it. I personally cannot fucking stand that sort of thing, hence why my reader/mc also got pretty easily ticked off by it.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Match Me if You Can by Swati Hegde

3.5/5. Releases 6/4/24.

Vibes: Emma, heroines who gotta learn, slow burn, friends to lovers

Heat Level: 2/10

Mumbai-based Jia spends her days writing silly listicles for women's magazine Mimosa. On her off time, however, she works on her anonymous blog, giving what she thinks is very real talk... even if she's in denial about her own true feelings. She wants to get upgraded to a new column--but the only way she can is by helping her coworker find love. Thing is, Jia herself doesn't even realize that her longtime family friend Jaiman has a thing for her. Maybe... more than a thing.

Alright--if you're at all familiar with Jane Austen's Emma, I'm sure you can tell that this is an Emma retelling. I've actually been seeing a lot of Emma retellings lately; but that's not a bad thing for me, as Emma is by far my favorite Austen.

The skinny on this one is that, at least from my perspective it's very cute and well-written. It's a romcom with wit, and there's certainly a lot of chemistry between Jia and Jaiman. I love the setting (it's shockingly rare to find an English-language romcom novel that isn't set in America, and even harder to find one set in India). I enjoy the tone. It's not reinventing the wheel; it goes in the directions that a lot of Emma retellings do. For me, too... I don't mind that it was closed door, per se. However, there were moments cut off in a way that left me thinking "but why?"

The answer is that it was the author's prerogative, and that's valid. I just feel like we were kind of left in a place where there was teasing--and if there wasn't going to be anything, why tease, I suppose?

But nonetheless--if you want a light, fluffy romcom that happens to be closed door, and if you love Emma, I would recommend this.

Quick Takes:

--One way in which this book differs from Emma and that Jia and Jaiman have what I'll call a near-miss about a year prior to the novel's beginning. To me, this was really clever. First off, it swerves away from the typical Emma setup, adding a little tension that I really appreciated. Second, it makes Jia a more interestingly human character, to me. She knows there's this tension, she knows there's something between herself and Jaiman, she just doesn't want to confront it.

--Personally, I think modern Emma retellings arguably work better in a setting wherein matchmaking is still a thing. Jia is nothing if not a consummate matchmaker, and I feel like this plays so well in a book set in Mumbai, where matchmaking is a feasible career (not that it can't be in the west--but it's less common, obviously).

--Like I said: this is a slow burn. Jia and Jaiman have known each other since childhood. Feelings have been there for a long time. So while I understood, and to an extent I mean, it's there in the material... I just wanted them to kiss. I wanted something to happen. Although the book is closed door, that doesn't mean they can't get together earlier in the novel (I'm thinking of a closed door romance by Alexis Hall that I enjoyed not so long ago). It did drag a bit for me.

And ultimately, for all the theoretical tension, that lack of interaction in a romantic sense did keep it from going as far as it could have. I don't mean sexually--I mean as a love story.

That being said--if you're not sure about sex scenes, if you like a slow burn, and you want an Austen update that makes sense... This could be great for you!

Thanks to NetGalley and Dell for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[macabrecravings]

Just curious! Is there something in specific you don't like about Harper or is it just in general?

(My only propaganda on the topic is that I love the idea of not having to think.. Hypnosis and aphrodisiacs and stuff are fun to play with for me especially when subjecting my PCs to things... and the aesthetics of those can be cool to mess with when drawing I think! But also that type of thing is obviously not for everyone lol! (I don't like doctors much so it took me a bit to warm up to them tbh))

It’s mainly the hypnosis thing, I think 😭 It’s not a feature I’ve explored much in DOL & the only times I’ve gained hypnosis traits have been a long lasting hindrance that annoy me due to the lack of control 😭

In theory, I love the idea of giving up control & aphrodisiacs can be so fun in that game (the plants, robin landfill scene ((not fun per se but. YK!!)) But Harper and hypnosis in general always seem to come at the most inopportune times </3 I’m real picky when it comes to my PCs, and the situations that they go thru (which is ironic considering the whole game is noncon and the point of it is to put them in unfortunate situations)

BUT if I’m going to get my PC hypnotized, drugged, kidnapped I want it to be on my terms </3. I can relate this to the Kylar kidnapping event for better explanation!!!

I love Kylar. But I have to be in a certain mindset when it happens </3 If they capture me out of the blue while I’m grinding levels or some shit i get so annoyed bc it feels like a waste of my time and it’s not what I’m playing for at the moment. It’s an annoyance that I have to escape from to continue doing what I want to be doing. Same goes for the soft bad ends (Remy’s farm, the asylum, etc) Sometimes I want to be a little mindless cow :3 Getting milked n praised for being the best!!! And then other times they snatch me and i’m like FUCKING LET ME GO IM TRYING TO DO SMTH ELSE oh my god

I certainly could enjoy it, but so far being institutionalized has just been fucking annoying bc it’s prevented me from what I actually want to do😭

I did make a new save recently, one to just fuck around in :) Primarily with the intention to explore Harper content and other stuff I usually avoid in my main saves. I’d be so down to be Harper’s fav little mindless patient, I lovveeee me a problematic, obsessive,, freakish character yk?

Back when degrees of brutality was still up, i loooveed Harper in that mod— Fuxking crazy thing to say especially when I say i don’t like DOL harper but... I LOVEDDD DOB HARPER LFMOSKFNFN. The way you could donate blood to them and each time you came in, they get a little more intrigued by you? Then eventually they ask you to do another test and fucking cut u open play with ur guts and take u home??? oh my godoh my god . The way they fix u up and make Kylar jealous when they’ve cut off your limbs? LJDDJDJFJFB . “Can I have a turn with them?” BYE!!! 🫣🫣

Maybe i’m just fucked up and like blood n gore more than I like hypnosis LMFAOOO *looks back on my ex fwbs medical malpractice sexts* hm. yeah! tmi. i will refrain from further explanation ☝️

[bloodredx]

Day 14: Mask

Bones looked up from his book, nose twitching with annoyance at the constant mumbling of the young vampire across the room from him. Icarus hadn’t been speaking per se, but his odd noises had only grown louder over the last couple of minutes. Bones adjusted his glasses lazily, rolling his eyes slightly as he did. “Are you done, kiddo? Not that I’m doin’ anything too important, but I’d like some peace to read.”

Jumping at the sudden words, Icarus slowly looked over his shoulder, some notion of apology lingering in his eyes. “Stressed out. Sorry.”

“No need to be so stark, ain’t bothered too much. Just gotta make sure you ain’t chewin’ your lips off or nothin’.”

He grimaced slightly, rolling his lip low in a failed attempt to cover fangs too long for his mouth. “It’s really that bad?”

“Mmm. Certainly ain’t pretty.” Bones agreed. “What are you even workin’ on?

There was a soft clatter of some hollow material as Icarus’s hands shook lightly, fumbling to grab at, well something, from the surface of the coffee table. “Uh, well…”

“Is that a mask?” Bones leaned forward as he closed his book and set it aside. “Not a bad plan. Though, somethin’ tells me it ain’t gonna pan out well for you.”

“What, is it that bad?”

The mask itself seemed fine, perhaps a bit sloppy if anything. It seemed Icarus lacked some level of finesse when it came to craftsmanship, but not offensively so. Something more akin to a raw cut of wood, it merely needed a bit of sanding to make it perfect. However, this was not made of wood, instead being composed entirely of cloth, mimicking the medical masks that the hospital’s surgeons and nurses wore for their more sensitive patients. Theirs, however, didn’t include intricate markings. Markings Bones had seen before, and again made his nose twitch.

“It ain’t that it’s bad, no. But I think you really need to think about who’s gonna see that.”

“Well the goal is obviously to cover my fangs, I can’t let anyone see those.”

“Sure.” He nodded lightly. “Makes sense.”

Icarus continued, missing Bones’s point. “So something like this should do the trick. Plus it’ll blend into the hospital environment, I don’t think anyone would think twice about it.”

“Mmm, yeah, that’s true. But…” Bones drew out his tone, trying to think of some way to let him down gently. “I just don’t think the Lady will let you get away with that.”

He saw the young man’s eyes grow wide, clearly that was a factor he had neglected. “Why?”

Bones raised a brow. “You really asking me to explain her mind?”

“Well, no, but-“

“I get it, I really do.” Bones stood slowly, crossing his arms. “But, she’s stern and set in her ways. And I don’t think she’s gonna let your training slide, despite your creativity to get around it. Plus…” He considered his words carefully, knowing not all of the stories in his head were his to tell. “Serena doesn’t hold much appreciation for those who hide their face. But I’ll leave it at that.” He clapped a hand on Icarus’s shoulder. “You’ll get there, keep trying.”

Icarus grimaced despite himself. So much work for potentially nothing. “Thanks for the warning.” He mumbled bluntly before making his way out of the room, hand balled into a fist around his mask.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Biweekly Media Roundup

- The Owl House (TV) - Alright so we got the penultimate episode, soon we’ll have no Owl House left. This was a pretty good setup, the most memorable parts being Willows much needed development, Luz’s palismen reveal, the brief snippets of Collector lore, and Eda and Lilith's new looks. The school stuff sorta dragged as I wasn’t super interested in the background cast and their petty survivalist struggle when the Collector as an entity is a lot more intriguing; I do wish we got to see more of their deal though I suppose that’s something to look forward to in the finale. 

- Buddy Daddies (Anime) - Buddy Daddies started off pretty good and has gotten a bit better each episode, with a pretty good sense of humor and some nice characterization moments for Rei. I’m still waiting for Miri to develop a personality beyond ‘Cute child’ (Something like Anya or Yotsuba), but as a vehicle for comedy/wholesomeness she works fine. Anyway, if you’re watching pause to read the daycare moms texts, they’re great. 

- The Way of the House Husband (Anime) - An anime night staple, we’ve caught up with House Husband, which continues to be a great time. While the core joke of “Scary ex yakuza actually does really wholesome mundane things” is more or less the same each time, the execution changes enough to keep the formula working. In general it’s just a pleasant watch, and it’s kind of validating to see normal struggles like weeding your yard or impulse buying expensive food being treated with the same intensity as a shoot-out. It really be like that sometime.

- JJBA: Stone Ocean (Anime) - Welp finished Stone Ocean and. It did certainly end. I’m not really sure how I feel about it, I guess it’s not a bad end per se but it sure left a lot of things unanswered/open to interpretation. I guess Part 7 will elaborate more on the rules of the new world but for the characters in this part I guess we’ll just have to imagine what this Modern Day Nobody Dies Found Family AU is like. Either way my favorite nonbinary mass of plankton FF probably doesn’t exist in this new world either so bummer. Still, this was an interesting season, I did like the concept of gravity reversal and the opportunity to see the main cast outside of the prison setting.  In terms of Jojo Parts overall I’d put it around the same Tier as Part 3, it had a solid cast of main characters, a good antagonist, and some interesting stand match-ups, but could also drag a bit as I zoned out during quite a few of the villain-of-the-week battles, and lacked consistency when it came to the power set rules. 

- The Greatest Estate Developer (Webcomic) - I still have brainrot over these guys, I’m going to cave and read the webnovel any minute I can feel it. 

- Demon Slayer (Anime) - Watched the whole Mugen Train Arc this week, which had some extra content from the movie to allow for more Rengoku time. Again, I don’t have much to say, still really impressed by the final battle and Inosuke is still best boy.

- Love Is War (Anime) - So this is one I’ve had on the backburner for a while, I had heard from basically everyone that it was amazing but had attempted to watch the first few episodes a few times and never got it to stick. To be fair I had known that I should give it longer to impress me, comedies in general usually take at least half a season to endear you to the characters before getting really good, I guess I just had other things I was more interested in. Well, no more, now that my sister is watching it with me we’ve blown right though the first season, and while I still wouldn’t call it a masterpiece I do see where the hype is coming from, the cast is a lot of fun. The ending of the 1st season in particular was super cute, I’m rooting for these idiots. 

- Ace Attorney: Dual Destinies (Video Game) - I had taken a brief break from my quest to complete the whole Ace Attorney franchise after Apollo Justice, but I’m back now with Dual Destinies. For positives so far I like Athena and Blackquill, as well as the Athena/Apollo sibling dynamic. For negatives I kind of wish Phoenix wasn’t as prevalent as he is, we are starting to get too many characters vying for the spotlight and I feel like there’s not enough time for any of them to make a lasting impression, especially poor Athena having to share her spotlight with 2 guys who already had their own games. 

- Persona 5 Royal (Video Game) - Still impressed with how this game writes the core friend group, it’s very pleasant to watch them all interact. Yusuke and Makoto are my faves right now, though battle wise Ann and Ryuji are solid units. I don’t feel like writing much more atm, mostly because I’d rather be playing this game haha.

We also just started Gintama and Ranking of Kings at anime night. I’m theoretically watching Sense 8 and The Last of Us as well, though I’m behind due to prioritizing the others. Finally, I’ve been keeping up with ORV, S-Class, Demon School, and TVDINT as they publish weekly.

Listening to: Persona 5 OST, Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons, Parachute by Ingris Michaelson, Fear & Delight by The Correspondents, Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas, Melancholic by Junky, There She Goes by The La’s, Waiting For Love by Avicii, Every Little Thing She Does is Magic by The Police, Somebody Loves You by Betty Who, EPIC: The Troy Saga OST