#The mechanics can be tedious at first

[kinokoshoujoart]

Marrying Carter in Harvest Moon DS Cute! (North American version)

oh… sorry no not the archaeologist, i mean Pastor Carter from Mineral Town!

(or is it Pastor Curdy….?)

teeechnically his descendant, and it causes a game over… but this is the only time we’ve been able to marry him right?

so in the girl version of HMDS, there’s two “secret” Mineral Town bachelors that you can marry by talking to them enough times on the phone. one is Mason, the guy who runs May’s Tailoring… but the second, Pastor Carter, is a bit more obscure…

i couldn’t find them uploaded anywhere so here are his 2nd* thru 10th conversations+his proposal+proposal rejection in english! if you want to see it on youtube instead here you go

*i failed to record the first conversation when it happened, and there’s no way in hell i’m resetting my whole game again (…yet), so…just know the first one was like “oh you want to talk? what should we talk about…….. …… ….. …. i can’t think of anything. well see ya………” extremely riveting stuff

he’s so obscure that i didn’t even realize that he was a bachelor until i found out about the mechanic from this japanese wiki!! (here’s an archive link to the page on him in case the page doesn’t work) all i did was test whether it worked in english since i couldn’t find any english info at all mentioning it. i’m sure others have found him… right……..

in case the links above don’t work, a small guide to holy matrimony below the cut since i can’t find one in english

it works essentially the same as the Mason marriage (so it’s just a game over, sadly…), and the steps are pretty tedious and counterintuitive, so you’re unlikely to just stumble across it… but you too can get a priest to break his vow of celibacy for you or whatever!

you will need:

at least 2,050,000 G

20 cursed tools/accessories

if you really don’t want to dig up 20 cursed things you can substitute 100x “remove a cursed tool/accessory” for blessing a cursed tool…

but, including all the cursed tools and accessories, there’s only 16… which means you will need to go dig up 4 duplicate cursed accessories using this method! yay!!! extremely pointless since you can’t sell blessed accessories until after marriage in DS for girl (at which point you can’t trigger pastor carter’s proposal)

you unlock a conversation with cardi when you spend at least 205,000 G. which means the quickest thing to do is to order removal of a cursed item five times, then bless 2 cursed items.

**be careful when blessing accessories to only equip one at a time!!! if you equip a stack of duplicate accessories, blessing that stack destroys the duplicates!!!! :( so just take 1 out of the stack and equip it!!!**

you also can’t unlock more conversations until you’ve seen the one you unlocked, so like even if you spend a million G you’ll just unlock one conversation, and you’ll need to finish that conversation and then spend 205,000 G to unlock the next one…yeah….

on the tenth conversation he abruptly reveals that he’s fallen in love with you and asks you to marry him! it ends your game, but….! on the bright side, it ends your game!!! you’re finally free from Hell Simulator!!!!

[foxy-alien]

Page (4/14)

I wanted to share my process for my 14 page Nona comic, This got pretty long so the rest is under the cut!

First, I start by making a script, as I'm weeding through Nona I’m drawing immediate reactions. This way I don't have to keep track of action as well as dialogue. This is the most dialogue heavy page of the comic so this one has the most detailed panel break ups. 

In this scene Alecto’s inner thoughts are my favorite part so I dedicated a lot of time figuring how to add them naturally. I especially love “The old man, Crux—the child Crux, barely one hundred years old”

Once I have a rough, and I mean ROUGH thumbnail for the page I move on to creating a digital sketch. 

Side note, you’ll notice I go back and forth from traditional to digital back to traditional. Having to fully redraw poses multiple times makes me really think about the action and what I want to include.

Thumbnailing is for figuring out panels. Sketching is for action and dialogue. I tend to show action and emotion over following all the rules of comic making. If you notice i break the 180 rule, but at the end of the day character interactions are more important to me.

I redraw the sketch on comic paper in mechanical pencil. Again I don’t trace the digital work because I want the linework to stay loose. I just focus on lineweight and contrast at this step. The dialogue is written out first then I line everything else with my felt tip pen.

I clean up the comic and replace the handwritten dialogue with a font I made out of my handwriting. This part is tedious but I really don't know how to skip it. My handwriting is too hard to read but I also need to make sure all the dialogue fits naturally, so that means doing it twice. 

My coloring process is really chaotic and can't be summed up in screenshots. 

Crazy right? I am constantly adjusting, changing, and generally making a mess and then cleaning it up when I color. Often when my colors look off to me it's because I have a contrast problem, so I check it in greyscale. 

If you want to know more I can share my brushes and techniques.

And with that I’m done! And then I move on to the next page.

[degenerateworm]

Video games with Wesker!

I am a video game haver and player baby, so you bet my wormy ass I'm going to make some headcanons about playing games with my favourite man!

---

Wesker knows you like to play video games. Of course he does, when often you talk with him about your favourites; the lore, your favourite characters, your favourite mechanics, your gripes and least favourite things...

It's not that Albert has never been interested in them. He's just never had the time. Ever since you started dating him you've realised how much he neglects his own recreational time, so you aren't surprised that he wouldn't know much about something solely made for that purpose.

So you decided to introduce him to it. And, because he loves you, he lets you.

---

At first, he fails to see the point in it, because he's Albert fucking Wesker™, and he has things to do. But like always, you remind him that recreational time is important for one's health, making him huff and nod begrudgingly.

After a while, he starts to stare intensely at the screen as you play, pointing out things that you might have missed, and helping you with things you may not be the best at.

Albert Backseat Gamer Wesker.

And when you give him the controller, he has a small smile on his face, quickly getting used to the controls as you snuggle in beside him on the couch.

Although he does grumble a bit about having to take off his gloves to better play. And you know that this man, a master spy and infiltrator, would know how to work a keyboard and mouse.

---

The first game I see Albert really enjoy playing, is ironically, Project Zomboid. He likes the difficulty and realism of it, plus you bet my wormy ass he loves grinding out tedious tasks and zoning out, like body disposal and loot organising.

I feel like he would like crafting/survival games the most, but mainly realistic ones; so I don't think you'd find him playing Terraria or Minecraft anytime soon. Things like The Long Dark as well, awful situations are his favourites.

Wesker likes to take the lead in these games, assigning roles to each of you and making strategies for better survival.

When Albert likes a game though, he studies it like a syllabus. You know he would have memorised all of the exploits and timings for things.

---

Sometimes he ventures out into other games, but only if they are very in depth and thought out. You will almost never see him playing a fantasy, especially an RPG, because who else would he be other than himself? He doesn't have a very big imagination in these things.

So it's crazy when he tells you he's downloaded Baldur's Gate 3, and he wants you to play it with him.

Probably goes with the default appearance of races, although he finds out how to min max his character FAST. He'll find it hard to get into the roleplay aspect of it, so he will often ask you to talk to the npcs.

Doesn't bother with the Romance options, but he surprisingly doesn't mind when you go for them. Just be ready for his teasing, no matter who you choose.

---

If you want to play multiplayer online with him though, he will be a bit cautious. You'll have to explain to him that he can talk through text chat, and not have his voice on file.

He can even use a VPN if he wants! After that, Wesker will once again relent. After all, you've introduced him to a lot of nice things so far.

I don't actually know what kind of online games Wesker would like. I'm thinking simple team FPS ones would be the ones he gravitates to first; things like Overwatch and Apex Legends so that he can play with you.

He likes to turn off the voice volume for most of it, as the characters annoy him.

Usually stays in a discord call with you, but sometimes he orders his team around in text chat.

Or chats shit to someone if they're bad. You just KNOW he would make up the best roasts.

---

He doesn't see the appeal of single player games, other than to tell a story. If he wanted that, Wesker would just read a book.

But... Horror games. He won't tell you this, but some games of this genre give him ideas.

Maybe Wesker could bring this up in his lab later on...

---

THIS WAS ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT PLEASE AND THANK YOU :D

[guinea-pig16]

Late Night || Part 1

Glamrock Freddy x Reader

Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!

Fic is below the cut! Please enjoy! This is my first ever written fiction as well as nsfw, so I hope you like it!

Part 2 is now out! Read here!

Part 3 is out now! Read here!

Part 4 is out now! Read here!

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Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: slow burn (takes a bit to get to the actual smut) AFAB reader, slight dom/sub vibes, usage of pet names (once), praises, awkwardness, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, a bit of pining

______________________________________________________________

Late.

That’s the only thought that went through your mind at this point.

It was late. The shitty Fazbear brand digital clock you had sitting on your desk read 1:02 AM. You didn’t mean to stay this late, but when you came in for your afternoon shift at 5 today, everything in the entire PizzaPlex decided to break. As the singular mechanic/engineer that day, you got stuck fixing every arcade machine, photo booth, and any and everything that croaked throughout the day. And after doing all that, you still had to do the required monthly maintenance on the star animatronics of the PizzaPlex. It’s not that you minded working with them, that's what you went to school to do! It’s just tedious and takes longer than needed because of all their parts. Though, you could hardly call the job dull when you had such fun ‘coworkers’.

Chica was in general fun to be around, bubbly as can be with plenty of silly gossip to chat about. Roxy really just talks about herself and tries to get you to change her hair color, nails, accessories, etcetera, claiming it will make her even cooler. Monty enjoys suggestive humor that will either have you doubled over with stitches or so horrible that it’ll have you kicking him out of your workshop faster than he can say “rock n’ roll”. 

And then there's Freddy… The face of Fazbear Entertainment. He was the whole reason you decided to go into robotics. Your first day on the job he immediately made you feel at home, with his warm smile and caring attitude. The two of you had clicked the moment you began talking. As soon as you walk through the doors at the beginning of your shift, he was by your side, asking about your day, eagerly listening to your stories, and nodding empathically to your complaints. It felt as though Freddy and you had known one another for years.

Your checkups with him always ended up being hours longer than normal, the two of you laughing and talking about who knows what. You had to admit, recently being around Freddy has made your heart flutter, your cheeks flush, and your stomach fill with butterflies. You’d felt this way before with others, but never to the degree you do with him. But it’d never work out. He was an animatronic. You highly doubted he could even feel the same way. You didn’t want to find out and risk getting hurt, so you were content with the way things are, being his friend and mechanic.

You tiredly replaced your tools from the checkup with Monty, his laughter after you kicked him out still ringing in your ears. The bastard got on your nerves faster than usual thanks to your tired state, so as soon as you gave him the green light for ‘all good’ you shoved his metal ass out of Parts and Service with the promise of replacing his voice box with a squeaky toy if he continued messing with you. 

You huffed a laugh as you recalled one of his quips as you checked your to-do list. Your eyes lit up and heart fluttered as you saw the last thing on your list.

Routine Maintenance on Freddy Fazbear

“Superstar! How wonderful to see you! Monty let me know you were ready! I thought I would save you the trouble of calling for me.”

Speak of the devil, You thought as you turned with a smile. 

Freddy beamed at you as he walked through the door and stood patiently next to the entrance of the ‘operating cylinder’, hands behind his back.

“Hey Fredster, just gimme a sec and we’ll get started.”

He gave you a polite nod and smile. You grabbed your tool kit (decorated with various stickers Chica had slapped on without you knowing), and a worn-out rolly chair to sit on while working. You rolled the chair in front of the cylinder door and quickly punched in the entry code on the computer next to the door. 

The door slid open and Hand-Unit welcomed you for the 3rd time tonight. ���After you.” You said as you bowed deeply and gestured to the interior of the cylinder.

Freddy let out a chuckle and walked in and sat on the maintenance table, you following with your rolly chair and tool kit. Freddy turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but then immediately frowned as he properly looked at your face.

“My goodness superstar, you look exhausted! Are you alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?” He said, concerned. His hand twitched towards you as if he’d reach for your face. You wrote it off as a minor movement glitch.

You shrugged and sat your tool kit on a table next to Freddy and sat down on your chair. “Ah, I’m fine. I just had a lot to do today, no biggie!” You smiled at him.

He didn’t look too convinced and opened his mouth once more, most likely to scold you for not taking care of yourself, when you cut him off. “Hey, how’d you run into Monty so fast? He’d hardly been gone 2 minutes before you showed up?”

Freddy froze a moment and looked as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ah… well… I just so happened to be… taking a stroll nearby…” He twiddled his thumbs a bit and looked to the side. 

Cute, You thought as you chuckled and opened your toolkit. “Yeah, suuuure… Freddy Fazbear taking a midnight stroll next to Parts and Service. I believe it.” You turned back to Freddy, who seemed to be very interested in the floor. “Right, let’s get started. Lay down for me and I’ll check your chest compartment.”

Freddy obliged and as soon as he seemed settled, you took one of your tools and gently pried open his chest plate. You began to inspect his gears, wires, etcetera. As you worked, a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as you focused.

“I apologize for interrupting your focus, but I have been wondering something.” Freddy asked out of the blue. You hummed in response and moved to look him in the eyes. Freddy was already looking at you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Monty said you had kicked him out? I was curious to know what he did to cause you to take such measures.” You grinned and let out a laugh as you turned back to his chest cavity.

“Hah! Ahh, the jerk was getting on my nerves. As you can see, I’m pretty tired, so I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for him. Monty, of course, took notice of that, and decided it’d be a great time to start flirting and making dirty jokes. He kept saying crap like ‘he knew something that’d perk me right up’, while gesturing to his crotch.” You glanced at Freddy’s face and saw he looked a bit… upset? “Ah, don’t worry! He wasn’t making me uncomfortable, I thought it was pretty funny, I just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. Besides… it’s not like he even has a dick to begin with…” You trail off as you see a loose wire in his chest. As you fix it, Freddy remains quiet for a moment.

“We do have one. If you were… wondering…” Freddy says after a couple minutes of silence. 

You freeze a moment, allowing Freddy’s words to properly process. Slowly, you lean back from his chest cavity in order to properly look at him, disbelief covering your face. 

“What.”

Freddy is now looking anywhere but you. You swear, if animatronics could blush, he would be beet red. You can hear his internal fan kick in.

“Freddy. You guys have a… No. No way. You’re just messing with me.” You say, still in disbelief, as you close up his chest plate so you can more properly speak with him.

He sits up and rests on his forearms, still avoiding eye contact. “...We do have one… Well, at least Monty and I do. I am unsure about Chica and Roxanne, I have not asked, as it is rather… inappropriate.” He appears even more nervous and embarrassed now. 

You are still in shock. Freddy and Monty, have dicks. There’s no fucking way. Before and after you got this position you poured over all the animatronics’ blueprints, maintenance logs, watched all the shittily made mechanic videos the higher-ups gave you, nothing said they even have the capability of having a penis. As you process this new revelation, some impure thoughts begin to arise…

FREDDY HAS A DICK. Oh my fucking God. Who the fuck thought of giving him one? …I wonder how big it is- SHUT UP OH MY GOD. This isn’t real, oh my God. He has to be joking, he passed by Monty, he must’ve set him up for this joke. No, that isn’t like Freddy to go along with a joke like this… I wonder if he’s touched himself before- I NEED TO STOP OH MY GOD HE’S LITERALLY SITTING RIGHT THERE. He’s my friend I need to stop- You’re suddenly shaken from your frantic thoughts by a large hand on your shoulder.

You jump slightly, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks. You look Freddy in the eyes, who appears even more embarrassed, and a bit regretful.

“I am terribly sorry Y/N, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I am terribly sorry… Please forgive me.” He said, moving his hand from your shoulder to rest it on your hand. “I… I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

Hearing that, you quickly hold his hand with both hands. “No! No no no! You didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just… I-I didn’t think it was even possible for you guys to have one! I mean, I’ve looked over your blueprints hundreds of times, reviewed every single maintenance log, everything! And nothing said anything about you having a, uh, penis…” You break eye contact to look at the ground, unable to look him in the eye, your face growing ever more red.

“W-Well fantastic superstar! I was worried for a moment that I had scared you away, haha…!” Freddy said, gently holding your hands, also avoiding eye contact. 

A moment of awkward silence ensues, the only sound heard being your beating heart and his cooling fan frantically whirring. 

“Can… Can I see it…?” You say quietly, slightly hoping he wouldn’t hear you (which is stupid, since he can pick up the tiniest sounds). 

His head whips to face you so fast you worry for a moment he’d break something. His eyes burn into yours as you hear his cooling fan kick up a notch.

God, why’d you have to say something?

“You- you what? You want to… see my…?” Freddy stutters. If he were a person, you swear he’d be sweating by now.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that! I’m just…” God how do you even respond to that!? You just asked if you could see his dick! Family-friendly Freddy Fazbear! Your friend! You want to sink into the ground right now. Your face is on fire now. Maybe you’ve gone delirious because of how tired you are.

A moment of silence passes, again, as Freddy stares at you and you stare anywhere but him. 

“Alright.” Now it’s your turn to whip your head to look at him. Freddy appears more relaxed now, although still sheepish. 

“Uh… really? Y-You don’t have to-” 

“I don’t mind. Besides, this is all a part of the… checkup, right?” He says, his eyes twinkling with something as he looks at you, a small smile on his face.

You swallow a bit, heart fluttering with anticipation. “...Right. Right, yeah, of course!”

Freddy removes his hand from your grasp and sits up fully now. You hear a small latch sound and look toward his pelvis to see the plate there slide to the side to reveal what's beneath. With fascination and nervousness, you watch as a rounded cylindrical object rises from his pelvis. It’s quite large, maybe 7 inches tall, and wide. It’s plain orange, with a red tip. 

You stare at it in fascination and awe. 

Who the fuck decided to give Freddy a big dick? 

You look back at Freddy, who appears nervous again. “...May I… touch it…?” You ask, a bit more confidently now. 

Freddy’s eyes shoot to yours, and you swear you saw him shudder for a split second. He nods silently, intently watching your every movement.

Tearing your eyes away from Freddy, you move one of your hands to his… manhood? Honestly, you’re not entirely sure what to call it. Your fingers gently run up his cock to the tip. Freddy shivers more noticeably now, and slightly opens his mouth. 

It feels smooth and soft. If you had to guess it, it’s made from a type of silicone. You wrap a hand around the base of it, and squeeze slightly to try and get more of a feel of how it’s made. Freddy jolts a bit and lets out a breath, his eyes lidded and looking at you.

“S-Sorry… did that hurt…?” You stutter out, worried you’d caused him discomfort. 

Freddy quickly shakes his head no, his cooling fans whirring loudly. “Please… keep going…” He mumbles, gazing at you.

You flush more, and then begin gently running your hand up and down his cock. Freddy never breaks eye contact with you, his eyes half-closed now. His breath becomes labored and he grips the table. 

“...Faster… please…” He says quietly. You shiver hearing him sound so… needy. You decide you’d like to have a bit more… fun.

You smile sweetly at Freddy. “I’m sorry Freddy… I didn’t quite hear that… Could you say it again?” Your hand comes to a halt, and Freddy whines at the loss of friction.

“...Please… Go faster, Y/N…” He pleads, staring at you with lustful eyes. Your face flushes a deeper red as you smile.

“...Good boy…” He lets out a small moan when you call him that, the sound going straight to your core. You rub his cock faster, causing Freddy to let out small groans and grip the table even harder.

As you watch him moan and twitch under your grasp, an idea forms in your head. You smirk and stop all movement, causing Freddy and whine and look at you.

“...Why did you stop…?” He pants. 

“Oh, I just… have a better idea… If you don’t mind me trying it, that is.” You say, moving your head closer to his cock. 

You blush harder under his intense gaze. You hesitantly, stick your tongue out and lick the tip of his cock. 

At this small action, his whole body jolts and he lets loose groan. You smile, and then run your tongue up and down his cock. He grips the table so hard you know there will be dents later.

“Superstar… you’re, ah- making me feel so… good- ah!” He moans as you begin to put his cock in your mouth. He fully lays back on the table, moaning at every bob of your head.

Because of his size, you’re unable to fit all of him in your mouth, so using one of your hands you cover the part you’re unable to fit. You start slowly, bobbing your head up and down, enjoying the sounds of Freddy groaning. You then begin to quicken your pace, going slightly faster and faster, his moans becoming more frequent as he leans up to gaze at you.

Then, you accidentally take him in too far, causing you to gag a bit. Hearing this, it’s almost as if a switch has been flipped. Freddy’s hands fly to your head and force you to bob your head at a much faster pace than what you had been previously doing. You grip onto the side of the table to avoid tumbling out of your chair from the motion.

Freddy moans loudly and pants, his internal fan whirring as fast as it possibly can.

“Hah- Look at you my, hah, superstar… You’re doing so good, mmh! Doing so good for me…” Freddy tosses his head back and lets out a loud groan. “You look so, ah- beautiful like this! You’re so, hah… wonderful…” You moan slightly, hearing his praises, your core fluttering in excitement. Freddy bucks his hips upwards upon feeling the vibration, causing you to gag again.

“S-Sorry… Ah, D-Didn’t… mean to, hah!” He apologizes, one of his hands tangled through your hair caresses your cheek gently. 

Freddy is now hunched over your head, bobbing it up and down on his cock like his own fuck toy, not that you mind… Every moan he lets out arouses you more and more.

His pace quickens, and his moans get faster and louder. His hands grip your hair slightly tighter. You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

“Y/N… Ah! I’m… so cl-close… mmh! Oh Y/N… you- hah! You feel so good!” Freddy cries out, leaning his head back. 

You decide to help him out a bit. You scrape your teeth slightly against his shaft, making him cry out the loudest moan yet. He moans your name over and over like a mantra as he bobs your head down once, twice, and then opens his mouth in a silent yell.

Nothing comes out of his cock, but you feel it twitch. Freddy gently lets go of your head and collapses back on the table, panting. You pull off his shaft with a slight pop, also panting. Your face is beet red, with some small tears running from your eyes, as well as some saliva dripping from your mouth. You slowly wipe your face with your sleeve as you reflect on what you two just did.

“Y/N… that was… incredible…” says Freddy, as he sits up once more. You blush and smile.

“Yeah… it was really nice…” You rub your thighs together, your core aching a bit with lack of attention. Freddy notices this, and then hesitantly rests his hand on your thigh. You look at him and see him looking at you with kind, slightly lustful, eyes.

“Since you’ve finished your… checkup on me… perhaps I could… help you, if you wish…” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Freddy…” You say, leaning closer to him. He leans in closer as well. The both of you begin to close your eyes as your lips approach his mouth.

Right as you’re about to kiss, a loud alarm blares through the silent room, causing the both of you to jump. You whip your head from Freddy to your desk, where you see your shitty Fazbear clock rattling from the sheer volume of the alarm. 

“Ah… right… That’s the um… end of my shift alarm…” You sheepishly say as you turn back to Freddy, who’s put away his, ahem, appendage. He looks a bit sad, but understanding, as he stands up from the table.

You close up your tool kit and place it on your rolly chair. Unlocking the cylinder door, you step through and put your chair and kit back in their respective places, Freddy following behind. You turn off the alarm and read the time.

Jeez, it’s 2:00 already… I didn’t think we were that long… You think as you gather your things, Freddy standing silently on the sidelines. 

You turn to him and the two of you just… look at each other. Something feels different between the two of you now. You’ve moved past friendship, but you don’t know where the both of you stand now. You’re certain of your feelings for him now, but you have no clue how he feels. Tonight was already a very big step, and you don’t want to push him any farther. Is this all he wants from me? Or was this a one-time thing? Does he still want to be my friend? Or something more? These thoughts flooded your head as Freddy glanced away and cleared his throat (or more accurately just made that sound).

“You know… it is quite late. I would feel much better if I know you made it out safely… May I escort you to the exit…?” Freddy asked sheepishly as if he hadn’t just used you as a fuck toy.

I huffed a laugh and smiled at him. “I’d love that, actually.” Freddy beamed at you and bent at the waist, offering you his arm to hold. You giggled and interlocked your arm into his and began walking to the exit of the PizzaPlex.

A comfortable silence ensued between the two of you as you made your trip out. You blushed slightly as you thought about what the two of you had done. You leaned slightly into Freddy more, enjoying his warmth and feel. You wished he would hold you like this all the time. As you leaned into him, you could have sworn you felt Freddy hold your arm a little tighter. 

God, you were in love with him.

During your walk, all you could think of were his eyes, his laugh, his smile… his moans… the way he looked at you with so much desire. Your heart ached with your want for him, for him to feel the same way… But it could never happen, you convinced yourself.

All too soon, the two of you approached the exit. You both unhooked your arms and stood and looked at each other. You opened your mouth and speak, but Freddy beat you to it.

“I just… I wanted to say… Thank you… For um, what you did for me tonight… It was wonderful…” said Freddy, looking away a moment and twiddling his thumbs. 

You smiled at him. “Hey, it was no problem! … And besides… I… Thought it was wonderful too… I really enjoyed it.” You blushed and looked at your feet.

“Well… in that case…” Freddy, then gently held your chin and tilted your face until you were looking directly into his eyes. They were slightly lidded, and he had a soft smile on his face. “Perhaps I could… return the favor sometime… If you would like…” His voice was deeper than usual. You could feel the rumble of it in your chest.

A shiver went down your spine, and your face flushed. “I… Think I’d like that very much… ‘Mr. Fazbear’...” You grinned.

He chuckled quietly and gazed at your face. His eyes wandered from your own, to your nose, to your flushed cheeks, and finally… to your lips, where they stayed. 

“...Y/N…” He said quietly. You swallowed slightly. “Yes..?”

“May I… Kiss you…?” He asked, leaning closer slightly.

You let out a breath, and leaned upwards, getting on your tippy toes. “...Yes…” You replied.

Slowly, you both closed your eyes, and met for a soft, gentle kiss. Freddy’s hand moved from your chin to caressing the back of your head, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your own arms around his neck.

The kiss was so soft and gentle that it almost brought a tear to your eye. You’ve never felt so warm, so safe, so secure in your entire life. You wished it could have lasted eons.

But, good things never last, and you both unwillingly break apart from the kiss. You both stand there a moment, enjoying being in each other’s grasp, gazing into one another’s eyes.

“Well… I’d better get going… I’ve gotta get some sleep before my next shift.” You say, as you and Freddy separate from each other.

“Ah… yes. Well, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night, and I hope you sleep well.” Freddy says with a soft smile.

You give him a smile back, and walk towards the door, opening it. Before you fully walk out, you turn back to look at him.

“See you tomorrow Freddy. Goodnight.” You say, giving a small wave. Freddy grins and returns the wave, as you finally step out into the crisp, cool night air.

As you walk towards your car, you’re internally screaming.

OH MY GOD, I KISSED FREDDY! NO WAY! I KISSED FREDDY FAZBEAR! OH MY GOD! This is a dream come true! You think to yourself as your start up your car.

You blush as you remember the… ‘promise’ Freddy made you. You have a feeling your next shift will be one you won't forget.

______________________________________________________________

I hope you liked it! I was a bit nervous about writing this, but thanks to some encouragement from some lovely people and friends I worked up the nerve and did it! I'm pretty proud of my first-ever published fanfic, and will most likely do more in the future!

Also, keep an eye out, you may see a part 2 for this in the future! (;

tagged people:

@dokoni-mo @burn-bunny

[zanes-pink-apron]

mechanical crew headcanons.

jay is really good with physically building stuff and designing machines but struggles really badly with software and coding and phones and such

nya is is good with software and such but finds it tedious and much rather just get her hands dirty and build something awesome. her design notes are always random and illegible. (when working on something together pixal is constantly asking her "what did you mean by this")

pixal really enjoys all parts of the process. she finds people confusing and frusterating. but she understands machines and code. i think its very meditative for her and she loves to find out new ways to solve problems. she likes to make cool badass shit for herself and her friends! i think she also is really into the coding and software part because it feels almost like a first language to her.

zane could fix himself the way an average person can attend to their own minor wounds and he can follow instructions from the others when it comes to building but outside of a crisis he is suprisingly not that good with machinery besides himself

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Uniquely recognizable

a post on making fantasy people species that stand out but still feel enough like their mainstream counterparts that your audience won't get confused.

Like me, a lot of you want to use the standard fantasy people in your projects. gnomes, orcs, elves, goblins, dwarves, etc. But you don't want to use the same old typical designs you see in every fantasy roleplay game, movie, show, book, video game, whatever. Those designs have become iconic and ingrained in the common understanding of what those fantasy people are supposed to look like.

But it gets tedious, doesn't it? Sometimes it feels like the only difference between elves in different media is the size of their ears. Sometimes it feels like every fantasy people group is designed to be as close to human as possible and then their fantasy traits are just an afterthought. You're tired of it! You want to do something new!

But where is the line between a unique looking elf and a personally unique fantasy people that need their own name? How far can you alter the standard orc before it stops being an orc? And what are gnomes, anyway?

in this post, I'll be showing off a few of my own fantasy folks and talking about the balance between a recognizable design and a unique design. Including one of my own folks that began as something typical and gradually became something else, until I had to come up with a new name to avoid confusion.

first up: Goblins! what are goblins? if you asked a handful of random people, what traits would they consider the most typical of a goblin?

small, usually green, big ears, lanky limbs? frequently a large nose, sharp teeth, and yellow eyes? those are all common traits for goblins in media across the genre. here are a few sketches of easily recognizable goblins: (including one of my favorites, the goblin design of @pocketss)

(image description: three sketches of goblins. The only one directly labeled is the pocketss goblin, which is very small, has a round head and thin pointy nose, and large leaf shaped ears. it is wearing a little coat. the other two goblins are more typical of fantasy roleplay and video games, having large noses, crooked ears, and short bodies with long arms. one of them is wearing a mechanic outfit with overalls and goggles. the other is wearing a hooded rogue outfit. end description.)

these are all different from each other, but they're similar enough that you could glance at any of them and say "oh that looks like a goblin!" You've probably even seen similar goblin art from other tumblr artists, or your favorite fantasy media.

so now let's look at how I draw goblins:

(image description: a frog-like goblin standing in a cheeky pose, leaning on an invisible surface of some kind. They're nude, but have no external sexual traits. Their belly is a pale yellow while the rest of their body is light green with darker green stripes. They have a round face, yellow frog-like eyes, a small nose, long whiskers, and big bat-like ears. next to them on either side are lists of traits that are common for goblins in fantasy media, contrasted against the more unique traits of this goblin design. end description)

this is one of my fantasy people that I consider the most recognizable. They've got a lot of standard goblin traits! green skin, yellow eyes, sharp teeth, big ears, lanky limbs, and they're rather small. On the other hand, they also have several traits that make them stand out from the common depictions of goblins.

They're amphibious, they have whiskers and a frog-like vocal sac in their throat. their skin comes in different colored patterns like real life frogs. and they're also hermaphrodites in the scientific sense. my goblins don't have set biological sexes from birth. they change between laying eggs and producing sperm based on various environmental factors.

But I think it would be hard for anyone to take a glance at this design and not recognize it as a type of goblin. it strikes a pretty good ideal between the typical and the unique, in my personal and somewhat biased opinion.

Moving on from this, let's look at my depiction of gnomes. They're kind of on thin ice with that title, I don't think they're as easily recognizable. But at the same time, I'm not sure I can come up with an alternate and more fitting title. Gnomes are weird. I see them depicted in only a limited handful of ways in mainstream fantasy, and far more varied ways from independent artists. Gnomes come from a mythology where their name could have referred to several small fae things, or been easily exchanged with other small fae things and similar creatures. The most common depiction of them is probably the garden gnome, which has little in common with how gnomes are depicted as a playable race in roleplay games. but here are three ways I usually see them depicted:

(image description: three sketches of gnomes. the first gnome is labeled "dwarf lite" and resembles a short humanoid with a sturdy body, pointy ears, and a short thick beard. they are wearing a pointed cap and a durable work outfit with gloves and boots. the second gnome is labeled "mousey" and resembles a small humanoid with a hairy face, larger semi round ears, and a long skinny tail. they also appear to have small claws on their fingers and toes. they're wearing a collared shirt, vest, and simple pants. the third gnome is labeled "elf hobbit" and resembles a short humanoid with pointy ears and long hair, wearing a cloaked adventure outfit. end description.)

common gnomish traits include a larger nose, pointy ears, some form of facial hair, and a short torso with somewhat longer arms. The most common versions in mainstream media are the "dwarf lite" and "elf hobbit" versions, like no one can quite decide if gnomes should primarily be tinkerers or spell casters, and which role they're depicted with determines whether their design is more dwarf-like or elf-like. But the mousey with a tail gnomes are more common from independent artists. It reminds me of some illustrations of the Borrowers, and I do wonder if the artists had them in mind.

here's my gnome design:

(image description: a gnomish woman sitting casually and looking upwards with a smile. she has a pig-like snout and ears, as well as four-digit hooved hands and feet, and a stiff short tail. she is wearing a wrapped head scarf over her hair, an off-the-shoulder shirt, and long pants with a climbing belt. on either side of her, there are trait lists comparing the expected gnomish traits with my own different gnomish traits. end description.)

My gnomes do match the concept of being small, agile, magic using folks with a prominent nose. But mine are also not as small as typical depictions of gnomes, and I've gone the porcine route to connect them with my orcs rather than leaning into the typical dwarf lite or elf hobbit depictions. I would not expect every new viewer to see this design and say "oh, obviously that's a gnome." because the pig-like traits are very atypical for depictions of gnomes. But at the same time, they have enough in common, and gnomes are varied enough in other media, that it doesn't take too long to adjust the audience view so they accept this as a gnome. at least I hope it doesn't lol.

and finally let's look at a fantasy people design where I got too into my unique ideas and had to rename them because they just lost the most recognizable traits of the original thing.

I will admit that in middle school I was a Twilight fan and I thought the vampires in that series had a lot in common with elves, so I decided I also wanted elf vampires. Cringe, I know. But the elf-vampires kinda got away from that origin as I built up my world and characters, and I just couldn't keep calling them vampires! I had to think of a new title. But I also didn't want to work too hard at that new title, so I just took some letters out of "strigoi" and I'm going to say it shares in-story linguistic origins with the word "drow", so both of these groups were named after an old elvish term for "those who live below/ in the dirt/ at the roots". Stroi and Drow almost sound kinda similar. Close enough to claim linguistic drift, at least! So they are vampires no more, and I am quite happy with how they fit into my worldbuilding.

for comparison, here are a few typical vampire designs:

(image description: three bust portrait sketches of different vampires. First is an undead human, looking like a common human man wearing a coat, but his eyes are red and he looks very tired. second is a nosferatu, who is bald with crooked pointy ears, a sunken face, and big sharp teeth and clawed fingers. he's wearing a dark robe. third is the fantasy dracula, looking more similar to an elf with sharp teeth and red eyes, but his features are more angular and he has more facial hair than the typical elf design. he is wearing a fancy cloak. end description.)

and here's the elf-cousin stroi that just stopped being a vampire a very long time ago:

(image description: an elf-like man with curly red hair and a long tail. He is standing on his toes. His outfit consists of a simple pair of pants, a shirt with a broad neckline, and a slouchy square cardigan. on either side of him, there is a list of common vampire traits and a list of stroi traits. end description.)

vampires are typically some form of supernatural immortal being, usually undead, often having fangs and venom and special weaknesses. They usually have magical powers like shapeshifting and entrancement. They pretty much always survive on a diet of blood and nothing else and they're generally nocturnal.

when I created the stroi as vampires at the start, I designed them as blood drinking elves who came from a cursed bloodline, all descended from some revived dead warriors. In concept, this is a pretty cool idea! but as I got more and more into speculative evolution and fleshed out my world and characters and all my story ideas, I ended up changing a lot of details for these folks and eventually they just no longer resembled vampires! I don't think a single person would look at this design and think "that's a vampire". no, they're more likely thinking "that's a funny looking elf", and they're right.

my stroi are living creatures in a perfectly normal way, though they have long lifespans. Unlike the elves, they live on the ground and are primarily carnivorous, so they do have sharper teeth and they do consume blood as a result of consuming raw or less cooked meat. They are not strictly nocturnal or diurnal, taking their own shifts to be awake at different times of day, taking oddly timed naps as all carnivores do. They can use magic, like anyone in my setting, but they have no powers unique to them, and certainly no special weaknesses. They don't even have venom, unless you count normal mouth bacteria. So you see, they just don't share enough traits with vampires to justify the title. People see the word "vampire", and it gives them some very particular expectations that my stroi simply cannot fulfill. Their lore has changed too much.

and sometimes this is necessary for the creative process. coming up with a new title for your fantasy people when you realize they no longer fit their origin can be very difficult! but it's so much worse to keep clinging to that origin and trying desperately to maintain the traits that people expect to see even though it doesn't work for your project anymore. I couldn't even stick with my idea that the stroi could still be vampiric if they were brood parasites for the elves. it's another cool idea, but it doesn't fit what I'm writing at all.

Learning to let go of your old ideas and move forward with the new ones is an important skill. Maybe you really really wanted to have elves in your story, but you leaned so hard into some new traits, got invested in all of that, and months or years down the road you look back and realize your elves aren't so elf like anymore! you wanted them to be wolf-like, but you got so excited for your wolf-elves that you ended up with something else entirely. it happens! and it's okay to let go of the elves and move forward with your awesome wolf people. maybe you just have to go do some research on wolf people in mythology now and figure out if there are any other non-werewolf creatures you can take the name of and use as further inspiration to flesh out your wolf people. or maybe you'll have to come up with a whole new title from scratch.

the most important thing to remember is that you should be enjoying your creative process! whatever that ends up looking like.

[dear-kumari]

Okay, topical Malevolent ep 44 reaction. Based on the wiki, it looks like the characters' choices to not return to the windmill and to get the witch's body were made by voting patrons, which further convinces me that the votes don't improve or even significantly change the story most of the time. Whenever Jorthur (yes, Jorthur) make a Patreon decision they usually have to justify it in-universe with a little debate, and besides just being kinda tedious, the justification often doesn't line up with the story's action. The patrons understandably wanted to explore the hallways over the windmill, which was justified in-universe by saying Arthur was too weak and injured to climb back there. But then the only interesting loot on offer is a piece of the witch, and once they chose that there's suddenly a big pool in the way and the world's most stabbed man suddenly has incredible lung capacity (I checked, he's underwater for 3:20 minutes and is yelling as they're launched out) and can swim with a metal breastplate on and cut through limbs once he's down there. He even conveniently brought all his shit with him despite the potential for water damage, so they didn't lose their inventory by being unexpectedly spat out. (John doesn't even sound like he's all that worried about him drowning either lol, though that's a separate issue of him being a slow horror podcast narrator first and an active character second.)

I understand why you would gamify a story loosely based on a role-playing campaign, but as someone who already doesn't get the appeal of listening to other people play TTRPGs, I struggle to imagine what the patrons get out of this (besides financially supporting a show they like, obvi). It's not really like a role-playing game because you don't control everything the protagonists do or have the context you need to make the best decisions (in this case, the characters know they dumped the witch in a deep pool, but the patrons probably didn't), nor is it really like a choose-your-own-adventure story because you don't get to try the alternate paths and everything will lead back to the author's planned narrative anyway. It's good for the story but presumably not much fun for the players that the author has an outline and an ending set in stone iirc.

Since someone could see this and go "well here's when the voting really worked for me," I did want to be fair and find an instance where the voting mechanism (probably) led to a good story choice. I like that the seemingly innocuous choice to ring the doorbell in ep 33 leads Arthur to realize that he fucked up several episodes prior by leaving his name at the hotel. That was a nice reveal, and maybe the lack of context actually made the vote more fun. It would have been revealed either way by Daniel being shot at the door, but ig Arthur stopping him before he opened it saved his life or something, idk. It feels pointless to speculate on when we're never going to see what happens if he knocks. Ultimately the difference between that and ep 44 to me, a non-patron, is just that Arthur fucking up by trying to be smart and realizing it at the last second is a good story beat, one with a clear line between cause and effect. Jorthur faffing about in the halls when they apparently could've just left through the windmill and then diving with armor on to mutilate a woman's corpse because the author is on a birth imagery kick is not.

Uhh other thoughts, I guess I am pretty glad they're finally out of the weird yonic caverns, even if I can tell that Jorthur entering civilization will lead to more ~historical liberties~ that will cause me actual pain. The voice acting is great as always. I like Yorick. I don't like that we're getting more dad!Arthur moments because come on. Also personally I would not have named the cute owl sidekick after the heavily implied CSA victim with no voice or agency from Oscar's grimdark edgyboy backstory, but that's just me

[karmathehalflander]

Some symbrock centric Venom the last dance fic ideas I have. Feel free to use these ideas if you want! (You have to send me a link though because I’ll want to see it) You can change any details and mix and match ideas these are just concepts I’ve been thinking about for a bit that I wish I could write but I’m to busy to.

Please keep in mind I wrote all of these notes out at 3 AM so if the wording doesn’t make sense that’s probably why. This is a bit long so I added a page break

1: Post VTLD. When Venom separated from Eddie he left a big chunk of his consciousness inside Eddies mind. His physical form is completely gone, but similar to how Venom revived Eddie, Eddie could rebuild Venom’s body. (In this universe this would not reignite the codex, that only happens when a symbiote revives a host) however, this process is going to be extremely, long, tedious, and exhausting. Eddie will need to connect deeply to his body and Venoms consciousness requiring a lot of meditation. They would ask for Mrs. Chen’s help and she would be absolutely delighted. Doing this would also require Eddie start taking better care of himself. And along this wild journey of connecting deeply with their shared body and mind their bond grows stronger and they learn to communicate and Eddie finally expresses his love for Venom. The actual meditation sessions could involve a lot. Visiting each other’s memories and learning about their time before they met. They learn about the ways both of them experienced a lot of isolation and trauma, Venom learns more about Eddie’s family and past relationships, Eddie learns about Venom’s past hosts and other symbiotes he knew. They talk about each others feelings for once, and Eddie learns a lot about human and alien anatomy along the way. This fic would be silly at times, angsty at others, but always deeply romantic and intimate. And of course Eddie succeeds in forming Venom a new body and the first thing they go with it is kiss for the first time.

2: Post VTLD Eddie is extremely distraught. He has a new apartment in NewYork but is not handling the loss well. He’s been drinking too much and barely eating. Anne and Dan are trying but they live a while away and are married and expecting a baby there’s only so much they can do. After a particularly rough night in which Eddie probably gives himself alcohol poisoning he dreams of Venom he’s there and telling Eddie “you need to take better care of yourself I didn’t sacrifice myself all heroically for you to go and die from neglecting yourself” and every night from them on Venom is there in his dreams. Eddie thinks he’s going crazy and this is a coping mechanism. Why is this happening? IDK it’s up to you.

3: similar to #1 Venom’s physical form died, but Vee left a part of their consciousness inside Eddies mind and has been gaining strength. Venom can’t regenerate his physical form anymore. But his voice is still there in Eddie’s head. And later on Venom could learn to project a physical form to Eddies eyes by messing with his brain. Maybe even simulate touch. you could tie #2 with this one. Like maybe at first to connect they need to be asleep because of the change in brain activity.

4: Takes place a few weeks after VTLD and Eddie has moved into a new apartment in NewYork he has a stable job but is in extreme mourning. He starts to feel sick and is progressively getting worse as the days go on. Dan checks him out and realizes Eddies body got so used to Venom just existing inside him as well as helping regulate his systems, eat bacteria/viruses, and aid his digestion that now that he’s gone his body is destroying itself from the inside. Eddie is dying. Various treatments aren’t working and Eddie is distraught that Venom died for nothing. lot of ending options. Venom returns and saves him last minute, Eddie does die of this but it’s implied they’re reunited in the afterlife, straight up hurt/no comfort heavy angst, the world is your oyster. The fic would probably be pretty short at most two chapters but it could definitely be stretched out way longer I just don’t have many more ideas for this particular scenario

5: Eddie sacrifices himself for Venom instead. Eddie finally gets to repay all the care Venom has shown for him. Is Eddie permanently dead? Up to you I just like this concept.

6: Venom is alive, but he was reformed from that small bit of biomass Venom left behind in the bar. Because of this, Venom’s consciousness and memories are still developing and he doesn’t remember much. All he knows is that he had to get back to Eddie, even though he doesn’t know who that is. They get to rediscover each other all over again as Venom slowly recovers their memories. This fic would switch between Venom and Eddie’s POV and probably start in Venom’s POV.

7: A small oneshot where Eddie confides with Anne about how he feels like he took Venom for granted in the exact same way he did to her. Hurt/comfort, you get the idea.

8: I just need someone to write a fic where Eddie goes to grief counseling/therapy lord knows that man needs it. Anne and Dan probably have to make him.

9: Eddie has a new apartment in NewYork and visits the statute of liberty every day. There’s another person that’s always there as well. This idea is bare bones but I thought I would include it just in case.

[lxrd-ren]

Dude DUDE

The parallels to Last Life are insane

- Final Girls + BigB are the only 5 person teamup / allyship (if only for a bit) we've had since Last Life's Southerners

- Tuff Guys building multiple towers, one for each person also mimics the Southerners towers

- 1st season since Last Life to have the dark green name available

- Tuff guys is team B.E.S.T minus Skizz

- 1st season since last life to have every member be present (Skizz missing from Double Life, Ren+Lizzie+Mumbo missing from Limited Life, Ren missing from Secret Life) (Gem not being in seasons before Secret Life does not count her as missing from them as she wasn't added to the Life Series yet)

- Bases being references with The Avengers Tower in Last Life and Joel's car in Wild Life

- Even the name of the seasons have the first word containing 4 letters

- The next episodes are literally going to air on the 3rd anniversary of the Last Life finale (knew this curtsey of @desolationcleo)

- Ren letting someone else kill him / gain a life from him in exchange for allyship, Lizzie in Last Life and Jimmy in Wild Life

- BigB betrays his alliance and Cleo shuns him, yknow what happened in Last Life? Oh yeah

SAME SESSION, SIMILAR TITLE AND EVERYTHING

EVEN GOES TO THE SAME PEOPLE AFTER THE BETRAYALS

Not to mention the set up for the other factors??

Like nearly every season, Jimmy dies first in Last Life

In Wild Life, Grian vows to make Jimmy's curse stay true by killing him first

Y'know who killed Jimmy in Last Life? GRIAN. I WOULDN'T BE SUPRISED IF HE DOES PERMA KILL JIMMY AGAIN

Scott won Last Life. His teammate was Pearl, and also Cleo later on when she left her alliance

So, judging by popular opinion..

Joel wins Wild Life. His teammate is Gem, and also (possibly) Etho / Lizzie later on when they leave their alliance ?

Scott won by being honourable, but he can hardly do that this season with all his teammates making enemies quicker than he can make allies

And Joel this season has decided to be more controlled and seek out allies this time around

And don't get me started on the red names

- Mumbo and Skizz both being on red early on and working together to get kills

- Joel was the main red of Last Life; desperate and failing miserably. During this last session I'm sure you can see that same desperation through the red names in Wild Life

However, in particular I believe Tango is going to be the Joel equivalent this season. (Thanks to @tiredfoxtf for pointing this out) Mainly because:

- Tango was one of the first to turn red, which if I remember correctly, has not happened before

- Joel had a very tedious alliance with Scar, and Tango has a very tedious alliance with Etho + Bdubs

- Whilst Joel and Tango both have made many enemies, they both have a particular person that is their main one: Joel had Scott and Tango has Skizz (Or perhaps Joel in the future if it's more fitting for the main red name to rival the (maybe) winner)

- Unlike Mumbo, Tangos traps have failed again and again; just like how Joel's traps at the start also failed again and again. Since Joel did eventually start getting kills, perhaps Tango might also

- Plus, the reason their red and desperate in the first place is due to their respective seasons mechanic; Joel was the Boogeyman twice, both times made him go down to red and Tango got screwed over by the Wild cards snails

- Thinking of lives, they both started out their doomed session on 5 lives and got down to 1 by the end of it

[bomberqueen17]

Liveblogging the Aubreyad 2: Post Captain, part 1

The main thing to know about the second book in Patrick O'Brian's Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin series is that it's really really really fucking long.

i was trying to sum up the plot even to myself and uh. it’s like. Late in the book there’s a dated letter and I realized it literally covers an almost four-year period. So like… as Inigo Montoya says, “Let me explain. No, no there is too much. Let me sum up.” But I can’t.

I went through and summarized the whole book in detail one night when I was having an insomnia issue and it was like a fever dream, and I'd read it twice and listened to it a third time before I started this project and still was like "WAIT there's MORE?" as I kept skimming through. But I'm gonna try.

I will begin unpromisingly with some tedious background worldbuilding stuff, though. Yes the entertaining way to do this would be We Didn't Start The Fire style rapid-fire snippets but do you know how much work that is? no I spent long enough reading this book I'm not doing that for you. Sorry.

I will relent, however, and give you one exciting tidbit: this book contains female characters, plural! Yes multiples of them! Round characters, with multiple facets apiece! Enticing, no?

So the underlying mechanic beneath like, a solid 75% of the plot of these books is promotion. For every naval officer in the series, this is a large portion of their motive for every issue.

There are three categories of members of the Navy in this respect. The first one is the foremast jacks-- your enlisted men, though in this time period they were often impressed, forcibly conscripted. They can achieve various ranks within themselves, specialty crews and various small statuses and such, but even the most dignified, long-serving of them is still subject to being flogged or beaten or disciplined at any time without any real recourse.

The next category is the ratings, or warrant officers-- subtle distinctions among them, but broadly speaking on the same level. The master is in charge of the navigation and general sailing of the ship, the bosun the rigging and masts, the purser the purse (money and supplies), the gunner you can probably guess. A surgeon has a warrant rather than a commission. And the midshipmen have ratings, not commissions either.

But midshipmen are eligible for promotion to lieutenant after six years of sea time. Once they are made lieutenant, they are a commissioned officer, no longer subject to flogging or dismissal out of hand-- they must be court-martialed for such a thing to occur. They get half-pay when on shore. They accrue seniority. A lieutenant can then be promoted to master and commander, as we saw in the first book. And from there he can be promoted to a post-captain, and from there promotion is automatic (though, crucially, a command is not), according to seniority. This will become important later. A post captain will become an admiral solely through seniority, in due time when it is his turn.

But an officer who doesn't have a stellar service record AND influential friends is very likely to be sidelined regardless of seniority. Many, many men serve thirty years as a lieutenant, never promoted. Still more languish as master's mates, the seniormost rating of a midshipman's rank. And even once made post, men languish ashore, and by the time they're made admiral, have so little renown that they're never given any kind of command at all and stay ashore doing nothing more than drawing half-pay.

I'm explaining all of this because much of the series winds up being an ongoing, meditative reflection on the benefits and flaws of such a situation, and we see incompetent men promoted while competent ones are sidelined, over and over. And this book shows the beginning of Jack Aubrey's career-long struggle to not only keep himself moving up this ladder, but also to try to take some of his people with him-- especially TOM PULLINGS, who as a former foremast jack from a family of dirt farmers, has absolutely no political influence of any kind, and cannot hope for any.

(This is, I think, part of what makes this series so readable. On the face of it it seems like oh no this is some rah-rah Royal Navy bullshit, but if you actually look at it, it's a pretty warts-and-all depiction, oftentimes depressingly heavy on the warts, which is much more interesting and also easier to stomach. I did have a little trouble with the book where they're fighting the War of 1812, though, where everyone was so dispirited that the Americans kept winning and I was like "wait no I'm rooting for those guys." LOLLL.)

But you didn't come here for this. You came here to know what happens in this book. And for that, I will do my best to convey some of it. I'll lead with a couple of teasers.

there are fly honeys. oh yes.

Stephen forcefems Jack into adopting a female bear as his fursona, for literally months. No I am not making this up.

TOM PULLINGS no you'll just have to get there to see, I can't bullet point him

Jack abducts a mugger

Barret Bonden beats a cop unconscious

That's enough teasers. Let's start with the fly honeys.

Everyone is ashore, and Jack has set himself and Stephen up in a sweet bachelor pad, with a crew of his favorite sailors as household staff. (Don't you fear, Preserved Killick is here.) His nearby neighbors are a household entirely made up of women: a horrible old woman, with three reasonably hot young daughters, and an incredibly hot niece. The war is over for now (it's the Peace of Amiens) and there are no ships to be had, but Jack has some money and is ready to do some fox hunting in more than one meaning of the word.

The neighbor is called Mrs. Williams and her oldest daughter, Sophia, is 27, willowy and ethereal, innocent and appealing. But her cousin Diana, about the same age, is a young widow brought up in India, and has incomparable style and dash. Stephen is completely smitten, but makes the mistake of telling her he's not really into women as women so much as he is interested in them as people, and she spends the next age treating him like absolute shit trying to get him to admit he's into her. Meanwhile, Jack is really into Sophia, but Diana is so dashing he can't help wanting to pursue her too, and so he and Stephen wind up unhappily romantic rivals. It doesn't help that Sophia is too innocent and entirely under her mother's idiot ill-natured thumb to straightforwardly reciprocate Jack's interest.

Jack throws a huge party, to be sociable, on Valentine's Day, in honor of the Battle of Cape St Vincent, of which he is a veteran. Babbington attends, and on his way there he is to pick up Diana, who had been sent to stay with another relative for a bit to get her out of the way so Jack would pay more attention to Sophia instead, Mrs. Williams being, to put it kindly, a conniving old bitch.

Babbington, as it turns out, is a horrible driver, which leads to perhaps the single funniest passage of the book.

“… she said [to herself], 'It will never do. This young man will have to be taken down.' The lane ran straight up hill, rising higher and higher, with God knows what breakneck descent the other side. The horse slowed to a walk - the bean-fed horse, as it proved by a thunderous, long, long fart. ‘I beg your pardon,' said the midshipman in the silence. 'Oh, that's all right,' said Diana coldly. 'I thought it was the horse.' A sideways glance showed that this had settled Babbington's hash for the moment. 'Let me show you how we do it in India,' she said, gathering the reins and taking his whip away from him.

Really, Diana is amazing, and you can almost forgive her for how horribly she treats Stephen. And Jack.

Anyway the overarching plot is now beginning-- it comes up (to the reader, though not to other characters per se) that Stephen is becoming quite involved in naval intelligence; his Catalan background means he's indispensible given that the British are keenly interested in using the cause of Catalan independence to divide Spain, preventing it from effectively allying with France, which is quite openly using this peace to amass an invasion army to take England. Shit is tense, in Europe.

But meanwhile at home, various legal matters are resolved badly and it turns out that instead of being owed thousands of pounds in prize-money, Jack has to repay eleven thousand pounds to the owners of ships he took that the courts decided were in fact neutrals. And to make matters worse, his prize-agent, to whom he had entrusted the management of all the money he did earn, suddenly folds, taking all the money and running. Jack's money is just gone, with no recourse. So now Jack, according to the law of the time, is subject to arrest and imprisonment until and unless he can pay off the entire debt.

Which he can't. So he has to go into hiding. And Mrs. Williams decides that as he is in her eyes a common criminal she no longer wants him to court her daughter, so contact with Sophia is cut off, which makes them both miserable.

But Stephen has a Spanish passport. So he takes Jack across to France with him. They visit Christy-Palliere, the French ship captain who captured the Sophie in the previous book. He is delighted to see them-- so delighted that he embraces Jack and kisses him soundly on both cheeks, which makes Jack blush enormously.

And then war breaks out again. Napoleon has all British citizens in France arrested. Jack and Stephen must flee, lest they rot in a French prison for the duration of however long this round of wars lasts.

Whew that's enough plot isn't it? Oh no. There's so much more. I'll divide here. Stay tuned for Part Two, in which the bear thing will be explained, oh yes.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cause of Action 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Your first week is tame. Boring, even. Your desk mates are quiet and cold. They barely even talk to each other. You suppose they have a lot of work to do, a lot more serious work than you. Your own tasks are rather tedious but menial nonetheless.

You find your sight blurring as you scroll through a case brief. You have your elbow on your desk, cupping your chin at your mindless perusal. The subtle click of the mechanism slips through your trance but doesn’t quite register. It isn’t until a dark shape stands in your peripheral that you finally break your near-comatose state.

“Mr. Barber,” you greet, barely able to conceal your surprise, “hi.”

“Just checking in,” he says as he rests his hand on the cubicle wall, “and I had a favour to ask you.”

“Uh, sure,” you keep your hand on your mouse, tapping the wheel nervously.

“Think you could start late tomorrow? You’ll see in the calendar there’s a late meeting and I won’t be in until noon anyway,” he explains, his free hand hooks on his belt. He does that, he stands like a disapproving dad and it makes your bones rattle.

“Right, uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Great,” he smacks the cubicle wall and it shakes just a little, “you grab a donut from the break room?”

“Donut?” You pique at the mention of sugar, “oh, well… I’m tryna cut back.”

“That’s too bad. I got ‘em from this place about a block down. They’re great. I love the boston creams but the crullers aren’t bad either.”

“Hmmm, maybe at lunch,” you shrug, “thanks, Mr. Barber.”

“No problem, just a little pick me up for the office,” he looks around as the office drones continue on without acknowledgement. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Alright,” you smile and swivel back to your screen.

He lingers for a moment before he strides off. You glance over as he enters the break room. The smell of coffee soon stirs in the air and makes your stomach grumble.

“Eh, could use another cup,” Marnie sighs but makes no move to fulfill her wishes.

You ponder a second coffee but think better of it. Caffeine usually has you addled and you’re already restless sitting around at a computer. You refocus on the case brief as Mr. Barber’s shadow approaches the door.

It’s strange. He seems so nice but the rest of this place is so miserable. Well, it is work.

📓

The late start to your day throws everything off. By the time you get to the office, you’re exhausted already. You couldn’t sleep in despite your efforts so much of your morning was spent in anticipation of starting work.

As you get to work Marnie is on her lunch and Taylor is huffing at his phone screen. He tends to be on that more than his computer. Mr. Barber greets you in passing as he appears with a cup of coffee. He retreats to his office as you settle in at your desk. There’s a small container waiting for you with a note.

‘Hope it’s not stale.’

You flick the post-it and tilt the container to see through the clear plastic. A donut dressed up with graham crumble and what appears to be strawberry jam. It looks delicious and dangerously high in calories. Still, a nice gesture. You would feel bad to reject it.

You get started, the day dragging by as usual. You pick away at the donut, trying hard not to get any crumbs or gooeyness on your keyboard. You get a few messages from Mr. Barber about new tasks but he’s mostly cloistered in his office, explaining that he’s on calls all day.

Marnie packs up first, then Taylor. Once they’re gone, the office takes on an eerie hue with the dimming sky outside. The tinted yellow bulbs do little to ease the ambiance. You clack on keys ambivalently, all caught up and anxious.

The door clicks and you spin to face your boss. You have no chill left.

“Oh, hi,” he buttons his jacket, “uh, you ready?”

“Ready? I thought the meeting was here?”

“No, uh, my client changed his plans,” he checks his watch, “you’ll get overtime for the extra hours.”

“Um, alright,” you stand up and stretch out your legs. Mr. Barber nears as you grab your purse and swipe up your phone from the top of your desk. “That’s fine, I guess.”

“Sorry, I know it’s weird hours but the guy’s not exactly a negotiator. Hence why he hired me.”

“No problem. I signed up for it, right?”

“I like that attitude,” he grins, “so, you like the donut?”

He peeks over at the empty container forgotten beside your monitor. You push your shoulders up and bite the inside of your lip.

“Yeah, very sweet,” you say, “thanks.”

“I’ve never had the strawberry so I’ll take your word for it,” he gestures you ahead of him towards the door, “better get going.”

“Sure.”

You lead the way and he locks the door behind him. He follows you down the narrow stairs as you cling to the banister. Your heels make the descent treacherous.

As you come out under the greying sky, Andy exhales heavily and checks his watch again. “I’ll drive.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, Mr. Barber,” you utter. You assumed it might have been just down the block. The mystery of it all is frustrating. You should’ve checked the calendar.

“Andy’s fine,” he corrects, “for tonight. Oh and a bit of advice, you don’t have to put up with my client. He says anything untoward, you let me know.”

He guides you down to a dark car parked by a meter. You near the passenger’s side and watch him come up the other.

“Should I be worried?” You ask.

“No, but he can be… direct.”

“Ah, right,” you nod, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Nice girl like you, I’m sure it will be,” he agrees as the locks slide back noisily.

He opens his door and sits in the driver’s seat. You get in and buckle up as he checks his mirrors and fiddles with a few switches. He seems almost more anxious than you.

“I won’t feel so out of place with you around,” he remarks as he puts his signal on and looks over his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“You’ll see,” he girds as he pulls out.

You wish he would just tell you where you’re going but you’re too embarrassed to ask. If he knew you didn’t even bother to check the calendar, it might not look so good on you. And you need him to give you a glowing reference. You can’t have the only experience on your resume be tainted by your own carelessness.

[fuedalreesespieces]

inukag week - day 5: personal space

the meaning of touch

read on ao3!

tw: non graphic verbal/physical abuse; implied sexual content

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His mother stood by the misty bridge like a troubled wraith, shrouded in cool fog and the humid atmosphere of midsummer.  

Inuyasha eavesdropped from the entry hall of their home, half-hidden in the shadows. He was supposed to be in their shared chamber, sleeping after a long evening of tepid play, but he’d found himself restless and unable to. Instead he’d watched through one attentive eye as his mother brushed out the tangles in her dark hair, the air heavy with the acrid stench of anxiety. She behaved as though there were an unwelcome specter lingering at her back, driving coldness into her stiff shoulder blades and making her elegant posture break in ways he had never seen before.  

Inuyasha crept closer down the bridge that separated their home from the shore. From the fog emerged an old woman, dressed in rather plain robes. Her lustrous hair was piled high, twin strands cusping her lower jaw. The grooves in her face were numerous, eroded by the years, and thus her deep frown looked much more severe than it ought to. She held herself high, chin sharply jutting out, and Izayoi’s own rose to match.  

“Mother,” she greeted.  

The woman said nothing in response. She made no move to cross the threshold onto the bridge, halting at the grassy shore. Her eyes perused the house with distaste. “How many days has it last been since I visited you, Izayoi?”  

“I believe thirteen moons.”  

“Thirteen moons...” she murmured. A fan beat a steady wind against her clammy skin. “What an insufferable evening.”  

“The lake is cool,” Izayoi remarked mechanically. “The heat never becomes unbearable here.”  

“I’m glad of it. We did not visit often when you were a child, but I recall...the still lake was such a beautiful sight. Do you remember?”  

“It was quite some time ago, mother.”  

“How halcyon it was,” she continued, her eyes closing as she descended into an unseen dream. “The sun high in the sky, casting fragments of light against the serene blue. The water seemed to roll out from the horizon like a bolt of fine silk. Sometimes we would not permit ourselves to enter for fear of ruining its sanctity, even though those were our waters to wade in. There was a scared nature...” her words drifted. “How halcyon it was.”  

“Indeed,” said Izayoi. Inuyasha couldn’t see her face, only the tip of her finger digging into her waist, drawing circles through the layers of fabric. She did the same thing for him at night, when she gently bade him to forget the smothering heat of summer and slumber.  

“But I can’t see a thing now. All this fog. I can hardly glimpse the water itself. So thick. How do you bare it?”  

“There has always been fog at this time of year,” Izayoi responded tiredly.  

“Ah, but it was quite some time ago,” she echoed. “You fail to recognize an omen when it presents itself, but I do not. At least one of us remembers when you were my daughter.”  

“Mother-”  

“Thirteen moons? Thirteen moons you waste away with that creature you call a son?”  

Izayoi drew in a breath. “If this is all you came for, to belittle me in my own house- ”  

“Your what?” her mother snapped. “House? What house? You forget you own nothing. Every blade of grass, every plank of wood, every drop of water in this lake belongs to your father. Our family, which you have forsaken tenthfold. The sole thing of value in your possession, you gave away to the first youkai to slip in your bed. And now you are nothing. Where has he gone, after he’s ruined you?”  

“Toga has passed,” Izayoi said with chilling calm. “He died in battle. You know this.”  

“Dead,” her mother parroted. “And thank the kami for it, if that is the truth. But is it so? The journey home from war is long and tedious, and no matter what barren wastelands men find themselves trekking, there will always be women other than their wives. Women to help them forget. Do you believe he thinks of you?” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Stupid girl.”  

Inuyasha couldn’t help it – part of him surged forward on impulse. He managed to stop himself before he got too close, but his clumsy steps on the bridge’s creaking staves quickly drew the attention of the two women.  

“Inuyasha!” Izayoi cried. “What are you doing up?”  

“I - I was thirsty,” he mumbled. He could manage no more than a lie when he saw her face. She looked how she did when she was holding back tears in front of him, her face contorting in an effort to keep the tears at bay, desperate for a moment of recluse.   

“Inuyasha?” her mother repeated. She laughed, and the roosting birds scattered from their trees. “How fitting. Let me get a look at it.”  

Her gaze felt inescapable. The wooden rails of the bridge closed in on either side of him, and he became so miniscule that she could have plucked him off like an insect. Her eyes drank in his darker toned skin, a contrast to Izayoi’s pale complexion, and the clawed tips of his fingers. They drew a path up his neck, where they briefly met his own citrine-colored pupils, and continued until they came to rest on his crop of unruly white hair and the twitching ears nestled there. She watched his ears for a long time, the wrinkles in her face shifting like ripples in water. Her words had abandoned her.  

“Inuyasha,” his mother whispered. “Go inside. I shall join you in a moment.”  

He didn’t argue with her. She looked so hurt, so inexplicably worn down, and all the radiance from that morning had drained into the darkness of the lake.   

Inuyasha returned to their rooms and tried to sleep – he tried, but he couldn’t dim his awareness any more than he could make himself disappear. He heard the woman who was his grandmother choke on her words, the woman who had been so wickedly verbose struggling to find a term that would best describe him. And when she found she could not, she released an long, harrowing sigh, and he heard her steps retreat further away.  

I nearly pity you , she finally said. That you should have to look at it every day.   

The most he was able to get out of his mother was that his obaa-san visited at her leisure – whether to lecture her daughter or convince her of something, Inuyasha couldn’t tell. Izayoi refused to speak any longer about it, and in the days following his grandmother’s visit, spent long hours sitting by the edge of the lake with him nestled in the folds of her robes, staring at the opaque surface as though discerning how long the drop would take.  

Inuyasha stared deep at the water too, but he cared nothing for what lay underneath, only the glassy reflection that observed him in return. Later, he learned what word his grandmother had been searching for: hanyo.  

. . .

 Inuyasha had grown accustomed to various stares throughout his adolescence. The jawless gapes, like fish plucked from water; the shrunken pupils and stiff mouths; the frustratingly vacant eyes of his brother. At first they’d been like individual pricks to his skin, irritating and omnipresent, but he determined they were preferable to what people did when their disgust overrode their fear.  

The first person to hit him had been Sesshomaru. He hadn’t even touched Inuyasha, claiming it was beneath him – instead he had flogged him with his poison whip after Inuyasha trailed behind him longer than he deemed tolerable.   

“I shan’t repeat myself, hanyo ,” he said, his voice serene in the face of Inuyasha’s torrent of sobs. The strike had cut through his cheek, splitting apart his skin like rotting linen seams. The pain was unlike anything he had ever known. “Stay out of my sight. Look elsewhere for charity.”  

Inuyasha couldn’t name the second person to hit him, nor the third. Faceless villagers, whose long, thick fingers he recalled far better than their names. They had caught him stealing fruit from their orchards and dragged him in front of the others. It had been a spectacle. They had tried to pry the Fire-Rat off him when they realized it protected him from being burnt.  

He came to expect being beaten – it was the secondary response, the realization that this hanyo might have been half-youkai, but he was also a child and therefore easier to put down. And when he was no longer a child, he was less youkai and more an angry shell of a person, spiteful towards everyone, even the memory of his mother.   

Why? He thought. Why didn’t you warn me this was going to be the reality someday? Had she thought she would live forever with him in that blasted haven over the lake, and he would never have to confront the world and its hatred?  

Thoughts like those dissolved quick as they came. He couldn’t be angry with her when she had suffered more than he ever had. It was difficult to remember his mother when all his emotions ran a vicious circuit: hurt was quickly followed by anger, and he could no longer recall the memory of his mother without getting furious at everything that had happened – his father’s untimely death, her family, whom blamed Izayoi for their destitution, her mother who visited only to mock her, Izayoi’s slow descent into sickness and her miserable passing. So he resolved not to think at all.  

. . .

 

We are alike, you and I.  

Inuyasha sat in the boughs of a flowering cherry blossom tree, thoughts consumed by the woman at its feet. She sat underneath the tree, her bow and arrow laying in the grass. Village children flanked her on all sides, a small army, and their idle chatter was swept up to his ears by the drifting wind. Their discarded laundry baskets laid abandoned by the riverside.  

Do I look human to you, Inuyasha? Kikyo had asked. She talked as though he were supposed to regard her as a statue, but the question hadn’t made a single bit of sense to him. Humanity wasn’t a state of living, it was an identity that depended solely on your ascendants. If he had been taught anything in his life, it was this.   

Still, she was different than the other humans he had come across. Perhaps it was her occupation as a miko that made her so unafraid of him, a fact that kept him irate even now. Fear was the only reliable source he could draw power from. If people feared him, they left him alone, and there was no trouble in that. It was the best outcome.   

But Kikyo neither feared him nor left him alone. Her questions frustrated him because he didn’t know one human who would bother to ask a half-human what they thought constituted humanity. He waited for her to drop her absurd niceties and shoot him, but she never did.   

She talked like she had no company, and that was something else he didn’t understand. Perhaps she couldn’t divulge her secrets to the innocent children who deserted their chores each evening to be at her side, but he knew for certain she had a sister with whom to express her feelings to. Why she came to him was something inscrutable, but he would admit that he enjoyed listening to her talk. It had been a long time since he had heard the voice of another so calm, and even longer since he had shared an opinion.  

 He began to feel disappointed when she had to leave, which was pathetic on its own – as if he hadn’t lived just fine without her conversations. But pathetic as it was, he craved them, even if that meant divvying his attention between her voice and the bow slung behind her back.   

Inuyasha wondered if she hurried to meet him in the way he did. If she thought about him during her mundane duties. Sometimes he could feel her stare on him, inquisitive and probing, and hear her heartbeat grow irregular. Irregular described his feelings, too, especially when Kikyo began to broach the topic of the jewel and her new intended use for it. Kikyo had smiled as she explained it to him, a rosy, uncharacteristic blush lining her cheeks. We would be free , she said, and hope shined in her dark eyes like oil on water.  

To think someone wanted a future with him. It was the closest to happiness he had felt in years, the thought of being promised to someone else. Did this make him her husband? She had not said. He’d only spied glimpses of domestic life, men who kissed their wives before leaving for the morning, hugged them in times of crisis. He and Kikyo had never even touched fingers before.   

We are alike, you and I , she’d once said.   

If we were alike , he thought, you wouldn’t have to sit so far away from me.   

But maybe this was love – sitting with an ocean between them.  

. . .

The memories came in pieces, sluggishly assembling themselves in his mind. He remembered being strung up and bitten, being freed by fervent, gingerly hands. Kagome .   

His neck was wet and throbbing, slick with blood, and his skin burned, as though he were resting on coals. He had tasted poison before, but only in his half-demon state, and even then he’d had to swallow the sting and pretend it wasn’t painful. Now he had neither the strength nor the inhibition to make an effort at anything.  

A wet cloth pressed gently against his head. His eyes opened, sticky with sweat and trying to adjust to the dimness of the room they were sequestered in. The first thing he registered was Kagome leaning over him, her hair falling past her shoulder like a dark curtain separating them from the others.   

“Sorry,” she whispered, clutching the handkerchief to her chest. “Did I wake you?”  

“No,” he croaked. At the sight of her, everything returned to him in a swift, painful recollection: the indignant orphan girl and the disguised spider-youkai, Inuyasha’s eventual capture, and Kagome, climbing the web of stony limbs to rescue him, Tessaiga in hand. She’d approached him with the courage he had come to associate with her, but she had also been crying, and that had baffled him so much that he’d turned the scene over and over in his lethargic thoughts like a heated stone.  

“I’ve been thinking,” he said slowly, without any of the hesitation that came with full consciousness, “why...were you crying for me?”  

Kagome stared at him. Hers was the earnest, genuine sort that he had to fashion a name for because he had never seen anything like it. “Because...I thought you were going to die.”  

Because I thought you were going to die. A statement that wouldn’t have been damning to anyone but her.  

He remembered her frantic climb towards him, hours earlier when he’d tried to fight the spider-monk despite having been drained of his youki . She’d yelled at him for telling her to run away even though it was the most rational decision of them all. It was the instinct of survival he thought fueled everyone, just as it fueled him, but she crouched among the poison webs and remained by his side. Kindness was her instinct and she kept it like an oath.  

I will not leave here without you, she told him, and it was a demand despite the tears building in her eyes.  

“Your lap...” he murmured. His throat felt filled with ash. “Will you lend me your lap?”  

Kagome blinked owlishly. Her response was more a question. “Uh...sure.” She carefully adjusted his head. “There...is that better?”  

“Yes.” She was pleasantly warm. If he had been resting on a bed of coals earlier, she was the soothing crackle of flames from a distance. He hardly noticed the approaching sun or the tingle of radiance at his feet. A comforting scent perfumed the air – the aroma of fresh lavender, mild yet sweet.  

His eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion. “You smell good.”  

Kagome made a sound of disbelief. “But...” her voice trailed off, “you said you hated my scent.”  

He blamed the next words to come out of is mouth on delirium: “Well...I was lying.”  

Sleep claimed him before he could hear her response. The morning after, as their boat went downstream, he pretended not to recall a thing, even as he saw the questions behind Kagome’s eyes. He had practically flayed himself open that night and she had been there to see it, and he knew if she asked, he would have no viable answers for his vulnerability.  

He didn’t know if she thought often of that night, but he did. Every time she made a choice to stand at his side, he was reminded of her fearlessness and it compelled him to be a little more forward with her. She was always so forward with him , after all – wrapping her arms around his shoulders, leaning her head against his, laying close to him, speaking her mind.  

People whispered about her, and others were not so discreet. Inuyasha would turn to her, expecting her to defend herself in the way she defended him, but her eyes were always closed, a quaint smile on her face. Either she didn’t hear or she didn’t care. She was so much better at it than he.  

. . .

He was an idiot to think that things would be smooth sailing from here on out, but it was difficult to feel anything other than stupid bliss. Kagome was here , she was in his arms, and everything bad that had ever happened to him was null and void.  

Except that it wasn’t, and it took Kagome to realize it. A few weeks into her return, she moved in with him, and became that much harder to keep away from her. She slept beside him each night, her soothing scent exuding through the sheets. Their shoulders touched and their hands found each other easily in the dark.  

The kissing was new – or rather, in his case, the act of reciprocation. Kagome kissed his cheek before departing to Kaede’s for her miko training; nipped his nose just to see the face he would make. He returned her kisses with equal enthusiasm, his lips brushing over her smooth knuckles and forehead. It was an action that came with ease after years of dreaming of it.  

One evening, she found his way into his lap while they kissed. He felt something building in him, an intensity that propelled his hands down her shoulders and to her waist. Her own hands were pressed against his chest, until they too grew restless. There was a shock of cold as he felt the panels of his kosode split apart.  

I pity you, that you should have to look at it every day.  

His grip on Kagome’s waist tightened. Cloth pooled at the crooks of his elbows. Her lithe fingers trailed down his chest.  

Look at him. Found him in the fields, digging at our food. The smell of ash from a burning torch. Let’s teach him a lesson, eh?   

The irori fire crackled and popped. The scent of it was nauseating.  

“Inuyasha?”  

His vision focused. Kagome was hardly a breath away, but her expression was concerned. The tails of her mussed hair fell down her back in loose curls. “Are you okay?”  

“Ah...” he swallowed. “Sorry.”  

“Did I do something?”  

“No,” he said hurriedly, breathless from their previous actions. “No, I just – I just...” He refrained from cursing at his own ineptitude. “I dunno...I just froze. I’m sorry. We can – we can try again, if ya want.”  

She squeezed his hand. “If you aren’t in the mood, you can always tell me.”  

But I am , he wanted to say. The mood was all he had been in for the past few weeks. Now that he’d finally been given a chance to act on his feelings, memories that had laid shriveled up inside him were resurfacing.   

Why? Why now, when he was the happiest he’d ever been?   

Kagome accepted his sudden silence, sinking into his chest. After a few moments, he wrapped his arms around her, and she snuggled closer, releasing a quiet sigh. He held her until her breathing evened out, carrying her to their futon to settle her gingerly upon the thick animal pelts they’d hunted and sewn together into blankets.   

He closed the panels of his kosode , and his bare chest disappeared beneath the fabric. She had touched it before, back during their questing days, but only when he was heavily injured. Even then he had argued against it.  

Inuyasha decided that he’d simply been nervous and amended that tomorrow he would do better. If he could sleep beside her, hold her, and kiss her, then what followed shouldn’t have made him act like this. He should be able to return her gestures as assuredly as she gave them. He would get over himself soon. 

... 

“Kagome,” he breathed out. “Kagome...a minute.”  

She peered up at him with an coquettish expression, her lips ghosting over his collarbone. Rain fell outside, and the air was damp and heavy with inescapable humidity. The occasional flash of lightning illuminated his wife’s body in strokes of startling white. “Mm?”  

“I need...” he rose, suddenly finding it difficult to inhale. “A minute.”  

I pity you, that you should look at it every day.  

He pivoted towards the other wall, where he could see the dead ashes of the fire that had long gone out. His heart raced. He felt the urge to draw his protective garbs over his skin, covering them up from sight.   

“Inuyasha?” Kagome said his name tentatively.   

Grab him. He’s tryin’ to run away.  

“I’m alright,” he reassured. His head was spinning. “‘Jus give me a second.”  

Thunder shook the earth. A cold, shallow wind brushed against his bare skin. Behind him, Kagome moved positions in the blankets. Earlier her sleeping robe had hung at her shoulders, and now it sank even lower, barely covering the slope of her breasts. She’d been flustered and embarrassed, but he had kissed her firmly and told her she was beautiful, and she had opened up further. Yet here he was.  

What the hell is wrong with you?  

His wife came to sit beside him. She looked anxious, and he internally cursed for the nth time. “I just...I want to know if I did something that made you uncomfortable.”  

“’Gome...”   

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” she murmured. “Please talk to me.”  

Lightning flashed. The air was electric, and so was the sight of her, dark hair tumbling down her back, the curve of her waist under the silk kosode. “I...I want to,” he said. “I want to be with you. I just keep...”  

“Freezing?” she suggested.  

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’m not gonna let it happen again, I swear-”  

She held up a hand. “Inuyasha, that’s not something you can ignore.”  

“But-”  

She shook her head. “Come here.” She gestured to the blankets next to her. Hesitantly, he brought himself over to where she sat among the furs.   

After a stretch of silence, she asked, “Can you describe it for me?”  

Kagome drew circles in his arm, tickling his skin, warm against the growing cold. “I remember things.”  

“What sorts of things?”  

“’Jus things...from when I was younger. I don’t like to think about ‘em. But I remember anyway.” He breathed a stiff, humorless laugh. “It was years ago. Don’t see why it started matterin’ now.”  

She paused. “What exactly do you remember?”  

“I...” His voice broke. The details were blurry, and for years he’d purposefully suppressed them so they would be difficult to recall. “A lotta things, I guess. Mostly the way people acted towards me. They got physical sometimes, before I knew how to protect myself. And when they didn’t, they just said things.” Lighting flashed again, followed by a sound that resembled a mountain cracking in half. “Like I said...it was a long time ago.”  

“It wasn’t that long ago,” said Kagome. Her voice was quiet. “We fought Naraku three years ago, and I still have nightmares about him. Even if it was long ago, some experiences effect us for a while afterwards. Especially cruel ones.”  

He couldn’t meet her eyes, but he could feel her fingers weaving between his limp ones. “In my time, there was a girl I knew whose father was arrested for beating her when she was a child. She didn’t like when people touched her – she would get really angry and constantly looked around her. Sometimes she’d faint. Those were the reactions her body had because of the things that happened to her...and these are yours.”  

But I’m not scared of you. I want to touch you. Why does it all hinge on shit that happened years ago, said and done by people who are all probably in the grave by now? Why do they get a say in my life long after they tried to ruin it?  

“Inuyasha?”  

“Sorry, ‘Gome,” he managed. His pounding head laid heavy in his hands. He hadn’t felt this disoriented since a battle, and he hated how that was the first and most accessible comparison his mind conjured.   

Kagome embraced him, her hug fiercely tight. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her scent. “Don’t ever apologize for something like this.”  

They stayed like that until the sweat on his back cooled and the rain had slowed to a lethargic rhythm. Its sound reminded him of the machine in Kagome’s room, its hands shifting every second to show the change in time. He’d broken one of them by accident, but the larger one on her wall, the one that didn’t shriek, was still ominous in its silence.   

“We’ll take it step by step,” Kagome said, parting from where she sat against his chest.  “We don’t have to go fast. If there’s ever a time where you start to feel uncomfortable, you tell me and we’ll stop immediately. Does that sound okay?”  

 “But what about you?”  

“What about me?”  

“Are ya...are ya okay with waiting?”  

Her eyes shone. “Oh, Inuyasha.” The way she said his name, an achingly familiar combination of sweetness and exasperation, made a fraction of the stress weighing over him fade. “I didn’t come back solely for this. I came back because I wanted to see you . I’m not waiting for you to be with me in that way, I’m waiting for you to be comfortable so we can both enjoy it. And if we never do it, that’s okay, too.”   

He didn’t know what to say to that.  

She did, though. Somehow she never ran out of the right things to say. “I get pretty happy just waking up to your face, you know. That’s all I ever wanted.”  

. . .

It took much longer than he ever could have imagined. He’d hoped he could just close his eyes and will the fear away, but as Kagome had had to remind him several times, it simply didn’t work that way. This couldn’t be cut down with a sword or sealed away with a sutra. It was the tedium of winnowing on a hot afternoon, separating grains and knowing the work would last ages. The effort was often chased by heavy guilt that he was failing his wife in some way, despite her constant reassurance otherwise.  

The severe dichotomy of their intimacy was frustrating. He could be in the midst of enjoying Kagome’s ministrations, then suddenly experience intense discomfort following a particular memory. Some days were better than others, though, and he found that the best ones were when he focused on his wife – unraveling her in and out without removing so much as his kosode .   

After their first few attempts, when they’d redress and lay together by the fire, Kagome urged him to talk about the specific memories he saw. He’d been vague, partly because he didn’t know how to discuss something he’d vowed to never dwell on, but mostly because he was pulling at dregs. He didn’t remember many of the things that had happened, just a few vivid snippets that threw a hot spoke into their sexual ventures.   

And when he did remember something, it was like choking out a gourd. Kagome was always encouraging, but when she sensed it was too difficult, she offered to leave the room and allow him some privacy.   

Stay , he’d said. I want you to stay here.  

Kagome’s patience awed him. When he couldn’t bring himself to talk, she would tell him something about her day, a mundane but safe topic. Her soothing voice was like a frail beam of light through the fog that settled between them, leading him back into her arms, slowly but surely. Sometimes she got him to laugh with silly anecdotes, and their conversations would grow miscellaneous until they fell asleep.  

It won’t be like climbing a hill , she’d told him. It won’t just be a burst of effort to the peak. It’s more like...a rocky path, maybe. There are smooth parts and rough parts, but the longer you spend on it, the more ways you learn to navigate it.  

She had been right, in a way. Their first time together had been a thing of dreams, and he’d enjoyed it as much as she had, but when they tried again the next day, the discomfort returned tenthfold.  

Kagome found him by the riverbank near their hut, where the village women met in hordes to do the washing. “Inuyasha?”  

He responded with a toneless grunt. She sat down next to him, dressed in her thin kosode, barefoot against the wet grass. The river was clear and smooth as a jade mirror. He hadn’t seen himself in a while, not in a reflection so still. He looked haunted, like his mother had all those years ago, the weight of her actions hanging over her when his grandmother visited.  

“Why’d you come out here?” he asked.  

Her eyes flickered towards him. “Do you want me to leave?”  

“...No,” he said. “‘s just...I thought it’d be fine now. It’s happenin’ again .”  

“It’s not something that’ll go away just ‘cause you succeed once,” she said gently. “Yesterday...” Her cheeks flushed. “Yesterday was wonderful . But it might not be something you can do every day, at least for a while. You might not even want to for weeks.”  

He couldn’t imagine that, given how much he had enjoyed yesterday, but now she had reminded him that going downhill was indeed a possibility. He fell backwards into the grass and tried not to think about the memory that had brought him out of it earlier, but started talking anyway: “My grandmother was such a bitch.”  

Kagome couldn’t help it – she snorted. “W-what?”  

“My grandmother,” he repeated. “On my ma’s side. She’d come over once a year. Just to say shitty things to my mother. Call her an embarrassment, say she had brought their family down...really, though, she wanted to say all that shit to me , but my mother hid me away during her visits. Told me to sleep. I should’a listened when I had the chance.”  

Kagome frowned. He could tell she was angry but didn’t want him to think it was directed at him – her clenched fists gave it away, though. “They were just looking for a scapegoat,” she muttered. “Someone to blame for everything. Anyone but themselves.”  

“They were already losin’ money when I was born – my mother was supposed to be promised to some prince to keep ‘em out of poverty, but then she met my old man.” His ears twitched as a flock of birds flew from the trees. “My grandmother saw me on one of her visits. She was a chatty woman...never shut up. But when she saw me she didn’t say anything except that she pitied my ma.”  

He paused, mouth dry. “Her face was...it was like crumpled paper. She wasn’t even pissed like everyone else, just sad. It was probably the first time she acted sad for my mother, even though she would’a swore my mother was goin’ straight to hell.”  

“She’s going to hell.” Kagome muttered. At his shocked look, she amended, “your grandmother, I mean.”  

He choked out a laugh. “ Geez , Kagome.”  

“We were both thinking it.”  

“I dunno if the village miko should be the one to say it out loud.”  

“I think that gives me more authority to say it, actually,” she teased. “I have a feeling.”  

“Oh?” he drawled. His hands traced line of her cheekbone, and her mouth widened into a grin as he drew her into a kiss.  

When they parted, she rested her head against his chest, her luminous hair splayed over his bare skin. “So...she is actually dead, right?”  

He scoffed. “’S been fifty-three years, and she was already old. If she’s still alive, she’s kami-blessed.”  

“Ah, so she was youkai all along.”  

They shared a laugh, laying together at the river’s edge, and he felt the coil in his stomach unfurl, relief spreading through him like a balm.  

. . .

“Inuyasha...”  

“No.”  

“ Inuyasha. ”  

“No. Go back ta sleep.”  

“Let me go!” Kagome squirmed in his arms, but he held her waist steadfastly. “I have to see Kaede early!”  

“She’ll be fine,” he grumbled. “Stay.”  

“I’ll S-I-T-you,” she deadpanned.  

“Not like this ya won’t.”  

“You’d be surprised what I can try when I’m annoyed enough,” she said dryly. “As much as I’d like to sleep here for another five minutes, I’m not about to fall into your trap again.”  

He yawned, one arm locked around her waist, and blinked the sleep from his eyes. His long, white hair draped over his toned back and shoulders, falling in loose, lazy circles against his skin. “What trap?”  

She blushed. “ That trap.”  

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about. Sleep.”  

Kagome sighed, sinking under the blankets. “Five minutes, then.”  

“Five minutes.”  

He intended to keep her there for at least half the day, but she didn’t need to know that. He just wanted to hold her for a while.

[nikster1111]

omg i just saw this 😭😭 idk how i didn’t before

i don’t think it really matters where you start? i’d say out of the vanilla games p5 is the most polished for obvious reasons but so far i am really enjoying p3r as a remake.

p5r has kinda weird moments compared to vanilla (but probably only if you experienced it) but i really like the new content it added!!

so far i’m going to finish p3r then move on to p4g. i also bought p3 before p3r even came out so i’m probably going to play that after too!!

hi!! here again LOL

i’m not sure how moots really work other than interacting with each other (i think that’s it…?) HOWEVER!!! i’m ready to nerd tf out over common interests!! 👍🏾

btw i saw your fav characters you listed and omg i love ann sm… she was the first female i romanced in persona. i also love hifumi sm bc she’s so odd… hehe women……

anywho i’ll be lurking around but i’m always here!!

hii sorry it took so long for me to respond lol i was sleeping

ann is definitely the first character that i plan on romancing too hehe but i’m so excited to learn more about the other characters as well :3

also i’m super glad we have a bunch of common interests!! <3

[omorimodreverie]

Reverie Devlog - 2024 July - CHAPTER 4

Overview

It has been a while since the last update since before the release of Reverie Chapter 3, so we finally are making an update on what happened in the past 3-4 months.

What’s with the Inactivity?

First, let’s get the reasons for our inactivity (at least to public) out of the way:

Chapter 3 released around April-May, so that period would be redundant to cover in a Dev Log in that time period.

Around the same period, some people have had high school finals (like in my case, Stahl writing here), or college exams. 

Despite that, there has been steady work done in the background by others in the team. The past few weeks have also picked up in activity as well, so things are moving in a positive direction.

Chapter 4 Info

Area

As it’s no longer a much secret since it's been speculated since forever ago: Chapter 4 takes place in dreamworld. The next area involves 1 major area, Sweetheart’s Castle; and 2 minor optional areas, Pyrefly Forest and Metro Depths. This info is relevant to development, as it changes the development process quite significantly.

The obvious benefit is that many assets can be reused and modified, especially for the castle. What will be done with it though, we’ll leave up to speculation. This applies to tilesets, maps, and even some sprites like enemies, leading to far less workload than Chapter 3 had demanded with the real world.

Gameplay

Gameplay wise, this will be where the “mid game” should start ramping up, so difficulty would start spiking here as well compared to base game. Normal mode would still be accessible for most players, but Hard mode would get more aggressive in terms of mechanics, and start to really pose a challenge. Regardless of mode, both would really push for players to learn emotion mechanics properly (I mean seriously, some people still played the entire mod without using emotions at all???).

For a rough overview for what’s coming gameplay wise:

Enemies throw ailments far more often

Some enemies nullify, absorb, or repel specific emotion damage innately

Charge skills and Telegraphed heavy attacks appear more often

Troops tend to appear in larger sizes

Considering feedback received from Chapter 2, it won’t be as tedious as Cattail fields, where enemy encounters tend to be spongy and slow-paced: leading to the next point;

Battles are generally more dynamic, going in a more aggressive direction: enemies are easier to kill, but so are you.

Area conditions that spice up the initial battle a bit

Progress

As of now, Chapter 4 is going relatively fine. There is a temporary knock down in activity from external factors, but we’re still able to keep a steady pace, which is what really matters in the long run. For easy viewing, the progress will be split into sectors:

Writing is going steady, it isn’t as difficult as the real world which has higher stakes, but it still matters to write in character. 

Pixel art side of things is also going well. There is far less work needed in terms of pixel art, due to less of both sprites and maps. Basically, anything now is relatively easier than CH3.

Drawn art also is going fine, the majority of spriteworks are already done. As mentioned before in CH3 dev logs, half of the sprites were done before CH3 even started, so this is not new information.

Music is also similar to Drawn art in progress, the majority of songs having been completed beforehand. Though one major difference is that a decent amount of those assets became “outdated”, so we might need to work on replacing or recomposing. This also happened in the art side, but just not to the same degree.

And finally in RPGMaker work itself, there is also some progress made, though less than others as this would be the final step after all assets are completed. The work here so far is mostly implementing all the assets and organizing files. On top of that, we have also started working on cutscenes as well as enemies.

Final Notes

Overall, progress is going steady, despite earlier difficulties in terms of activity. All sectors are progressing in some form, which is a nice change of pace compared to CH3’s very lopsided work allocation.

Thanks for reading this far, here's a preview of some work done so far!

[windvexer]

For those who are considering initiatory witchcraft:

Is it once again time for me to wake up and say something melodramatic about witchcraft?

For a while, one way I've conceptualized initiatory witchcraft is as being DLC for your life. Before you initiated, you were playing the vanilla game.

After you initiate, you're playing with DLC. And the DLC primarily changes gameplay mechanics.

And I think that one of the things that changes is complexity, because you have more mechanics than you had before. There are more things to manage, and if you manage them well you get pretty nice gameplay bonuses. But if you manage them poorly, then you get much worse debuffs.

And also, you can't uninstall the DLC.

This is something I wish people had told me at the beginning. A lot of the warnings about initiatory witchcraft are all doom and gloom. Which, that's the nature of this sort of thing. It's a rough road to walk, especially for the first few years there.

But I wish people had just told me about the, well, the chores. The responsibility. The stuff you have to start doing now, or these new channels of power you suddenly rely on are going to collapse and nothing will be right until you fix it.

I think this is a common divide seen between initiatory and non-initiatory witchcraft. In non-initiatory witchcraft the advice tends to be, don't do it unless it sparks joy! Does that routine or activity make you feel great? No? Then don't do it! Your path is your playground.

Which is pretty good advice, but it doesn't apply to everyone.

Some practitioners out there really do just have responsibilities they have to perform, and those responsibilities don't always spark joy, or make them feel good, or whatever. It can be tedious. It can be boring. It can be something you set two alarms for and then drag your feet all the way to the altar. They can take time away from desired hobbies, or friends, or sleep.

When you initiate, there are all these little channels of power inside of you. That's an inelegant metaphor but for the purposes of this post, it's fine.

And a lot of little things can run through those channels. Spirits, powers, gods, the land, whatever. They've got you like a fish on a hook, and they can drag you away.

Do you really, really want to sit with your friends at the campfire and play never have I ever and drink beers? Well, you can't - because the forest is demanding your attention. There's a rock over there beyond the firelight, you will go to it, you will make sacrifices to it, you will honor the spirits who demand your homage because they know you can see them, and they will not be ignored by you.

And I really, really don't like the narrative, or the assumption or whatever, that this moment of having to ditch your friends and go be weird in the forest is a beautiful, sacred moment that makes you sOoOoooOoOOoo glad you initiated.

There are mosquitos out there. You can hear people laughing without you. You're exhausted because you impressed your friends with tarot readings earlier. The energy of the forest is strange because it doesn't trust you.

It can suck, is what I'm saying, but you have to do it.

And I think that maybe this is something to consider, or at least be aware of, so if you start feeling like garbage after you initiate you can be like, "oh yeah, the chores." In my experience, people who are set on initiation aren't going to be deterred by the thought of these kinds of things.

But I think it's something good to be aware of. Initiatory witchcraft isn't something you can set down and walk away from. It's not something you can necessarily change or rework according to your whims. And a lot of that isn't sexy, or mystical, or joyous. A lot of it is just... chores.

[feministmetalgreymon]

Why I went from Palworld hater to 1# Palworld fangirl

When I first heard of Palworld I was initially skeptical. I thought it was trying too hard to be edgy and I'm not a big fan of shooters. But then I saw the reviews and heard that it was Ark: Survival Evolved but with Pokemon. And now I'm 1000% percent onboard.

Ark is one of the deepest survival sims out their but it is held back by bugs ,poor optimization, slow and tedious default settings and the games world can barely handle it's photorealistic graphics. But taking Arks hyper deep crafting and survival sim gameplay that allows you to do anything you want and combining it with Pokemon's universally appealing cute creature aesthetic and creature taming mechanics is brilliant.

Fuck gym leaders I want to build a empire of cute and cuddly fluffballs and terrorize the world.