#Western Boy Express

[buffetlicious]

Am back to pack my dinner from Western Boy Express on the way back from office. Ordered the S$8.90 Chicken Steak Aglio Olio (鸡扒蒜香意面) plus add in S$3 set meal and extra S$0.50 takeaway box surcharge. Trust me, it is worth to make it a set meal as you get a crisp salad, cheesy fries and creamy mushroom soup to go with the main course. The pan-fried boneless chicken thigh can barely fit inside the box atop the olive oil-based spaghetti. The skin is charred and crispy while the chicken still remains juicy and tender.

[goldentigerfestival]

Part 4 of the Vesperia differences between JP and the dub!

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

(Other) GTF Favorites.

As a heads up, I had to piece several images here as "one" image to circumvent the image limit because I was not about to make a part five by the time I got toward the end LOL.

For some reason the dub completely removed Alexei jokingly/sarcastically saying it makes his heart hurt (brings him down in this tl) how Estelle will come to her senses and see what she's done to her friends. As usual, the dub has a very weird habit of adding sentences where they never existed and completely removing sentences for no literally no reason.

I feel that "set you free" can also have the implication of saving her alive (which the dub heavily seems to lean toward versus wording that really shows Yuri's resolve here, the latter of which fits right in with Flynn and Ioder's acceptance that he may have to kill her), so I included this one to go with the previous case of Flynn mentioning that Yuri's group was going to "save" Estelle. The original is more ambiguous about her possible survival, but the dub leans more into being ambiguous in a way that doesn't lean toward her dying.

The dub changed this to nothing but literally "aye" so... do with that what you will.

Another case of them randomly wiping out an entire sentence (the last one).

As with other cases, there are some slight changes I don't feel are worth mentioning and often tend to be just slight changes in word choice that ultimately mean close to the same thing. This is generally the case for most of the spirit gathering arc. The overall tl of this arc is pretty much accurate, just with some odd cases like the above.

I really don't wanna say like, it's because Flynn's not around for a chunk of the plot in arc 3, but uh... let's be honest, it's once again as soon as Flynn gets back into the picture that the tl starts to go haywire again - especially where Yuri is concerned. Like. Literally. As usual.

In the dub, this was "but Duke isn't". Just putting this one here because I feel like this gives more of a sense how the characters are feeling about it, more than just him not working out in their favor.

This one was calling Ba'ul "weak" in the dub, but here Yuri is just asking if he's that stubborn about changing his form to a spirit. Putting this here because I feel using "weak" is a lot more harsh and has negative connotations on it compared to a more ignorant "stubborn" before Yuri understands.

Yuri mentions here that Duke seems to have thought a lot about what he's doing. In the dub, this was "he seems totally obsessed". Not sure what the reason for that change was.

Raven makes this more of a question in the dub, but here is more of him realizing it and putting the pieces together, so I figured I'd include this one since it's a slight change in a character's perception of something.

The first line was changed to "could you be any more worthless" (I guess because they thought the "boring" line was weird? idk lol). The second and third line got swapped for some reason, even though it does kind of change the general meaning behind what's being said.

Yuri says first that Sodia gave up, only to tell her she has no right to say it was all for Flynn (thus saying it's because of giving up). At least imo, in the dub it comes across as "you say it's for him but you gave up thus it's an excuse", versus "you have no right to say it's for him".

I'm trying not to say it again, y'all.

Karol says that Yuri going off alone is a bad habit. The dub changed this to "you keep forgetting us", which I'm kind of confused by because he's not forgetting them and literally told them to get ready to go to Tarqaron. Not really sure why they'd change this line since like yeah, it is a bad habit of his lol.

Another translation error in the dub, so this one's here for clarification. The dub says Astal "lost control", but Astal by this point is dead (and he never "lost control"). Judith also says in the dub that it made all the monsters gather here, rather than saying they've gone savage. It seems like they misunderstood something thinking Astal losing control brought all the monsters here, but obviously we know that can't be the case because Astal is dead.

This was changed in the dub to "it's our turn to do Yuri a favor", when he's actually supposed to be teasing him, which Yuri directly replies to.

Still trying not to say it.

Dub Karol sounds more like he's prepared to go in, but in the original audio, Karol sounds nervous about the hoard they're about to have to get involved with. Raven's line was changed to Flynn looking like he needs help and not that so much that he's cornered, and the original audio has him sounding more urgent about it. Minor changes here, but tonally I think they impact the scene differently (and definitely give more of a "this is really fuckin' dangerous" vibe in the original audio).

Another slight change and not an important one, but figured I'd include this since it has a slightly different meaning/vibe to it.

Including this just for Yuri's little laugh when he shows up (I love him! A Yuri Lowell!) and Flynn's shocked response. More tonal in change, but definitely worth a listen and will be linked below with Flynn's laugh!

This can also be translated as "it's simple/it will be simple", because it's "me and you" doing it. Imo this makes it more clear he's referring to just them (i.e. the upcoming fight) and not the entire group, but Yuri also specifically specifies "you and me", so it's much more clear that he's referring only to them (which I think, also given Yuri's levity in this situation despite the danger, shows how much they've completely come back from and recovered from the Nordopolica/Alexei stuff). Shoutout to Yuri deciding this on the spot and totally not even planning it though.

Again, there are some wording choice changes littered around, but nothing really significant (when I say small things, I mean things like Rita saying it's reckless for just the two of them to deal with this, versus the dub using "are you stupid?!". It basically changes nothing even if it is technically a difference, but I usually skip things like that because these posts would be even longer for changes that don't have a large impact).

As for the Yuri-Flynn-Repede battle, there were some... choice dialogue changes here.

Firstly, Yuri actually tells Flynn to be careful (rare carefulness from him, especially in regard to someone he knows can handle fighting).

Second, Flynn telling him not to worry was removed entirely.

Third, (this one is more difficult for me to completely discern because of the lack of text) Flynn mentions (you too, i.e. you be careful too) if Yuri keeps looking over (at him), that he won't be able to run to save Yuri fast enough (i.e. he'll get into trouble if he keeps staring at him).

Fourth, the dub changed Yuri saying he's just captivated by how handsome/good looking Flynn is (and I shit you not if Judith said that to Yuri people would call it flirting so yes, I am going to tell you that the dub censored men flirting here). The original wording used is "ii otoko", i.e. good/nice looking man, which in translation could come across a bit awkwardly and would be more likely to officially be translated to "handsome"... if they weren't so spooked at the idea of it and had to wipe it for "the great Flynn Scifo" which is not actually what was said. Personally I'd say "nice looking man" has a very specific ring to it versus handsome, but again, obviously that might sound a bit odd in translation without really specific wording (as in, it's possible to be used in a way that doesn't sound awkward but the wording leading up to it would probably have to be changed a little, or some words simply added in to make it flow more native-sounding).

Fifth, Flynn said it's not the time to be making jokes (the dub changed this to just "sh-shut up!").

Sixth, the goofy, playful tone Yuri carries when he says "I am being serious" was changed (very typical of the dub at this point though to remove his playfulness and I'm literally saying that objectively). Similarly, his following line's tone was also changed.

Seventh, "so we're kind of stuck". Yuri says he can't concentrate without talking, then ends (the battle conversation) with a following sentence of "it can't be helped!".

This could be translated in a few ways just to make it more clear what he's referring to (because a plain ol' "it can't be helped" is a bit too vague here), but you could translate that to something like "guess we can't help it", yadda yadda. My guess is that's where "we're kind of stuck" came from, but given the blatant trajectory change of the entire conversation, I'm not surprised I'm left feeling like the meaning of that line is just weird (primarily because he says that and the conversation abruptly ends, so they're not very stuck if Flynn won that one!) Something like "guess we can't help it/that's just how we are" etc imo would have done the job for translating that.

Flynn just sounds so, so happy and soft and my heart is full. Same dialogue in the dub, but the original audio was (imo much?) more lighthearted and so sweet and soft.

Made a clip of both their laughs because they're adorable and I love them.

No idea why the dub actually dropped her giving Yuri a whole ass honorific. Yeah, you can't always use JP suffixes in a dubbed game, but you can translate some of them to the closest thing they mean. Sodia here calls him "Yuri-...dono...", so rather than just dropping his last name in her accusatory tone, she calls him by only his first name and attaches a respectful term to his name.

Technically "dono" would mean "lord" or "master" in a non nobility manner, and is more of a formality than if she were to use, say, -san, which would have her referring to him as more of a regular/casual equal (-san is a suffix that often gets lost in translation, whereas dono can actually be roughly translated like it is here from this translator. Someone of her rank would still refer to others even equal to her rank as "sir" in translation, while people who use "dono" may also still use that term for people of their rank. Remember, at this point she's the second in command to the Commandant himself, so that's an awfully high bar for Yuri to have jumped in her eyes). Sodia has realized his actions have been just and honest and that she was very wrong about him, so as an indicator that she's changing her stance on him, she refers to him this way instead.

Basically, coming from someone of her rank, it's a very respectful term and is not used casually/in a casual relationship, much less to someone one dislikes or even hates (which she previously did, so this by itself is a massive step up in her view of him just from her suffix usage alone).

Honestly a huge shame that they didn't even translate this to "sir" in the dub when there was no reason not to. Just using that alone would have indicated a much higher level of respect from her toward him, and unfortunately that open respect is completely lost to dub only players (she only expresses her guilt, whereas in the original, just by using "dono" alone, she's indicated respect and not just guilt. In a way you could even argue that she's approaching him, someone she gives her respect to now, for advice and not just out of guilt alone).

In the dub this is only "it would have been easier if you'd blame me for this..." Here she's admitting she wants some form of punishment by way of saying she didn't receive it (which she could have from Yuri himself if he told Flynn what she did), but if she can't even have that, she at least would rather be hated. Basically, she's saying she wants to be hated if she can't at least be punished for her crime (and I believe you could also translate this to wishing she could be hated if she wasn't blamed for it, so basically they removed half the statement).

Also, in general, Sodia sounds very distraught.

Here Yuri admits he does have a grudge against her (you could translate this to something like "it's not like I don't hold a grudge against you"). The dub changed this to "don't think I'm doing this for your own good". Basically the dub is having him say he's making her live with her regret without mentioning that yes, he does in fact have a grudge against her for what she did.

The translation here is essentially the same (think about it for yourself. The dub just uses "go figure it out yourself").

The important part here comes in the form of how he refers to her. This is something he's done since he survived her stabbing him - not using a neutral form of "you" but instead openly using a rude form (in JP there are several ways of referring to oneself and others, similar to how Flynn alternates between boku and watashi when referring to himself).

In other words, Yuri is openly expressing disdain for her by using "teme". At this point he's been using it for a little while now (he also talks to her this way back in Nor at the inn as well. Worth noting that he starts out by using "omae" (neutral), but as soon as she drops the "I did it for Captain Flynn's sake", he hops to "teme" in a heartbeat, because of saying it was for Flynn but having just given up on him. Yuri continues using "teme" from that point on), but since here it's with very other little dialogue and also because she just recently referred to him as "Yuri-dono", I think it's a perfect time to point it out, as they've openly, verbally switched how they treat each other.

Sodia, wracked with guilt and left unresolved, has a newfound respect for Yuri after their interaction at Nor (and presumably everything he's done for Flynn). Yuri, still angry at her for what she did and holding a grudge (a fact lost in the dub that he mentions in this scene as mentioned above, adding to this role reversal), now openly chastises her and expresses his contempt by changing how he refers to her.

NEXT!

Not gonna put a picture here for it, but when Rita asks Witcher where his notes are, she gets super excited and it's just cute and funny.

Also not putting a picture here for this one, but Flynn sounds extremely relaxed/calm/casual in JP when he asks if Yuri is all set/ready to talk. Something worth noting is that even at this point, the dub keeps Flynn sounding very uptight and serious where he otherwise is relaxed, calm or even emotional. I get the feeling the dub kind of missed the mark with Flynn's soft gentle side. I don't know how or why, but it's more absent in the dub where he's otherwise much more soft.

Similarly, not pictured because this isn't about the translation, Flynn trying to convince Yuri to tell everyone what he's done is given in a more angry-upset tone, versus the original's (super!) soft and sad tone. Again, I think they had a different perception of Flynn in mind when it comes to audio (particularly in arc 3 here because the other arcs are... again, their own whole can of worms), because here he's speaking sadly that Yuri won't take credit, whereas in the dub it's more energy-fueled and comes off much harsher. I have a video clip of that scene here. I felt like mentioning it here because overall Flynn can be extremely soft and gentle in tone and it got lost in the dub for whatever the reason was.

Still on that train of thought, while the translation itself is still pretty accurate, Flynn says "I'll just yell at you again" but in JP says that he'll just say unnecessary words. Earlier, in the dub Yuri asks why he's so serious when he doesn't actually mention that he's being serious in the original (because honestly, he wasn't. He was very calm when they set out). In this case it's not really negative (the way Yuri yelling at people in the dub is portrayed negatively on their end), it's just... a change that I can only guess they had the wrong idea about with him? Previously the changes with Flynn were treating him negatively, but here it's more just... a notable but narratively generally neutral tone difference.

Not making a clip just for this unless it's requested, but when Yuri wins the solo fight against Flynn, in the original, Yuri says it with actual shock but awareness/clarity that it actually happened (with a sort of underlying excited vibe to it). In the dub Yuri says it with more of a laugh and disbelief.

As for this point onward, since the subbed playthrough ended before this point, I'll be using another playthrough for images, though I'll be translating them here instead since they won't be pre-translated.

Sliiightly different vibe here so I figured I'd include it (doesn't really change anything): Here Flynn says "Even with a sword... I lost." The reason I'm including it is because "I can't even win with a sword anymore" makes it sound like Flynn has been losing again and again to Yuri in various ways when it's always been the opposite. Using a sword has always been one of his highest selling points, so to lose in that area comes across more as, even with my best asset I still lost to you.

Yuri's line is more like, "(laughs) Serves you right."

Running out of images I can use for this post here but I really don't want to make another part at this point in the game, but Flynn's following line is more along the lines of "be proud of yourself" (literally "raise your arms (in victory/pride)"), to which Yuri says the same thing in both versions (Flynn's dub line is "you've gotten better"). Including this because "you've gotten better" to me isn't really the same as telling Yuri to be proud of himself for the victory (something he'd never been able to do before). Since the dub came across as much more casual, I figured I'd add this part here too.

During Flynn and Patty's conversation, Flynn says "it's true there is no end to my worries." In the dub this was, "I have no want for trouble". This was probably a mix up of terms/intended meaning honestly, because Patty was basically saying he has a lot of burdens for being so young. It's not about trouble so much as he just has a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about in his current position.

Flynn proceeds to say he's made up his mind, basically saying he's made up his mind to accept those worries. In the dub, he says he's prepared to face it (the troubles), versus that he's made up his mind in accepting these new worries.

Patty's response is "made up your mind?" In the dub it's just "is that right?"

Flynn continues by saying in the end he'll have to worry a lot (more literally with all his might, so basically he'll be experiencing a whole lot of worries in the future) and that it will be a tough road, but he won't run away anymore.

I'm not sure why the dub used "path full of pain" since that sounds a lot more dramatic than "it will be a tough road". I imagine yeah, there will be pain in the future, but full of pain just sounds a bit... much? The dub also removed "anymore" from "won't run away anymore". Not sure what the idea behind that was.

Patty follows up saying it's admirable but that's no good, which the dub changed to a fish pun.

I'd also like to mention at this point, Flynn has completely dropped his use of "watashi" in favor of "boku" (he uses boku normally, but typically switched to watashi for formality/his status as a knight, which indicates he no longer feels the need to do this around Yuri's friends, and possibly does not feel the same level of distance he used to. At the very least it means he's allowing himself to be more of himself/more familiar and not viewing his position as a knight so formally).

Here Flynn says "thinking together, worrying together, and then one day realizing the world we dreamed of". Adding this since Flynn in the dub says "if we all work through our troubles together". It's kind of the same thing and kind of not, since in the original Flynn isn't mentioning "troubles" between anyone - simply the idea of everyone doing this together (the rest is basically the same in the dub).

Another change I'm not sure what it was for, but Ioder never mentions the Entelexeia specifically. He says this (what he's about to say) concerns the empire, guilds and everyone who lives in the world (which would include the Entelexeia by default, but literally everyone else too, which is the point because he's about to tell them about the blastia to start making plans). The dub never mentions about this affecting everyone in the world despite that being the whole reason he wants to talk to everyone about this.

Yuri calls Duke an "ignorant fool" here, rather than a "stubborn bastard", which I'm including because "ignorant" and "stubborn" aren't the same thing. Yes, Duke is stubborn about it, but in Yuri's eyes he's also being very ignorant of everything they're trying to tell him.

Not grabbing an image for this, but at the end of the game when Yuri is talking to Duke right after the battle, he's completely out of breath before and when he starts talking (the first line). Just a very nice touch!

In the dub Duke says Eluficer's wish was simply to protect the world and all living things. Here Duke says his wish is to protect the world and all living things with a good heart.

Also don't want to use an image here because of the image limit per post (especially because it's already tight even with me putting what images I can into "one" image as it is), but Yuri says "yeah, let's do it" (including the others), versus "I'm on it" in the dub at Flynn's prompting. Not a big change, but he does treat it as the whole group doing it together, which I find to be a nice touch for his character development.

Patty actually says "it- it stopped?!" The dub goofed and wrote "it's- it's over?!". The power of the blastia wasn't enough and its power was weakening.

Estelle says "No way, after we've come this far!". The dub changed this for some reason to "but how? There isn't any more!" in response to Rita instead of leaving it as it was.

Judith says "Please!" The dub used "It's gotta work!"

Flynn says "It's not over yet!" For some reason the dub used "This can't be how it ends!", which... idk, I feel like original Flynn has much more faith in it LOL.

Yuri says "Is it no good...?" Dub Yuri says "Dammit... come on!"

For the most part the rest is the same.

Adding this in because the old cutscene in the 360 version had to get changed to accommodate where Flynn was. Somewhat different than what we see with the other characters, you can see the power shoot out and push Flynn back as if it was grabbing the blastia itself, and you can see it pulled away from him (with everyone else we just see the blastia head toward the rest!).

Aside from that, Flynn says "you are my pride, dear friend" (the dub changed this to "I am so proud to call you my friend, Yuri Lowell").

The voice acting took me out with the happiness portrayed in Flynn's voice. (For just the Flynn part of the ending, I have a clip of that too, unsurprisingly.)

----------

Personal ending notes:

To sum it up briefly: I personally see a strong inserted bias put into the localization instead of just keeping things the way they were (i.e. changing context/character behavior to fit their bias despite that not being what the original context was, and inserting this into an official release). I say this because there are times when the translation is basically perfect, but there are very specific characters and instances where this suddenly changes, and unfortunately, there's a repetitive pattern that to me reads as intentional. Otherwise, I see no need for that to continuously happen only when select characters are involved.

As for the not so short version, y'all might be wondering why I mention things like it seems like they changed Yuri and berated Flynn so much on purpose. This is because the translation of this game sometimes can be astoundingly spot on. Perfect in some cases, even. There are times when the largest difference is just the wording itself and is simply given flavor, or uses a variety of wording so that sentences don't sound repetitive.

Yet when it comes to those two (individually but also between the two of them), the context quickly devolves into being either completely changed, the tones used are completely changed, and/or there's a slight alteration in the text that ends up giving a very particular notion that was not otherwise there (ex. "like a good knight" was added into Flynn's dialogue in a situation where he's being berated and yelled at, and it completely comes across as putting Flynn down the entire way through the conversation, versus him coming around and taking responsibility and that being accepted. In the original he simply mentions following his orders as a knight. There's no attempt to sound like the narrative itself is trying to insult him or bring him down).

I made these posts precisely because a heavy majority of the changed context involved them, and a lot of it either portrays Flynn in a negative light for the vast majority of the game which was not originally present, or it made Yuri come across as a much darker, scarier, "cool" type, which is a pretty stark contrast to his original personality/behavior.

Other things:

Yuri:

A lot of his lines come out neutral/flat, and that got even worse, like a hundred times worse, in his new DE lines. Yuri is pretty peppy in JP, and as a reference I would say his victory quotes are a big indicator of the personality shift ("cool" guy versus "silly" guy would be a big one for me). Other than that, Yuri is more silly and almost childish, sometimes even pretty pouty, and it shows blatantly right in his voice. He's also extremely not threatening to people who are not his enemy (liiike threatening Ioder with a real weapon with a serious voice).

I think the easiest way to explain this from my own perspective is that I adore JP Yuri completely. Dub Yuri I often find myself wanting to punch in the face for how he treats Flynn, Ioder and the one time, Leblanc. He lacks compassion in the dub where he otherwise does have it (even if it's not him being rude vocally/tonally, the dub dropped a load of emotional nuance in his voice). He's not a rough, overly cool edgy man (I hate people saying Yuri is an edgelord because damn if that ain't the farthest thing from the truth in JP, but it also shows how much they really leaned into that trope in the dub if people actually walked out of the game feeling that way about Yuri). He's a silly, goofy, caring man who is very gentle with people when they need a boost. That doesn't mean he doesn't have his "scary" dark moments, but the dub obviously leaned super far into it - enough that they would change Yuri mentioning punching someone to outright threatening to use a weapon against an unarmed man who is actually being quite polite.

Basically, he has a range of emotions and he has a lot of emotional intelligence. As one example, when he sees Karol down and sad when they first meet, he changes his tone to a combination of how you'd talk to a child with that child-y tone (he does this at the base of Halure's tree when he's asking Karol how to heal the tree), but then sometimes he shifts to actual gentle and soft to let Karol know he's there for him (when he's heading out to the woods to find the eggbear).

Ultimately, my point is that they took a perfectly well rounded character and changed him to, what? Fit their own bias/agenda/whatever? Because I can't look at both Yuris and be like "same person". I've never wanted to punch JP Yuri in the face. Only hugs here. What I'm saying is that I came out of both versions with two very different opinions on Yuri.

Next, Flynn (and Ioder and Leblanc).

Starting with Flynn, I get a very strong mindset of anti government shoved into the dub with these characters (i.e. not just the unnamed bad people in the government and the few named bad ones, but also directed toward the good ones, making it a more black and white approach). The dub makes Yuri out to be aggressive toward Flynn on the spot when they see each other again despite that in the original audio, he's not at all actually upset. He understands why Flynn is upset and that he's stressed out with his current mission. And no, the whole "Flynn swung a sword at him!" doesn't work here. Yuri knows Flynn. Very, very well. He reeeeally was not mad about that... especially if, you know, his tone in JP was anything to go by during and after. Flynn was the more upset one between the two, and Yuri remains calm - again, indicating his emotional intelligence and, most likely as it's not directly said, determining that being worked up about it would only cause Flynn more aggravation/stress. Thus, he doesn't press any buttons and remains calm. It makes his smile to Flynn later at Torim make that much more sense.

The thing is, I get the impression the dub wanted us rooting for Yuri and cheering for him digging into Flynn, when that was literally not the point of their interactions. We're not supposed to always blindly follow Yuri. Sometimes he is right, but sometimes Flynn is right. Like. That's it. That's the game. Not everything is simple or black and white. There's nuance.

That and/or like, someone in the loc team really hated Flynn. Based on everything, I'm... not against believing that at this point. Basically, the dub portrays Flynn in a negative light at most (arguably all) possible opportunities around every turn, even though the context/tone for that did not originally exist, until it couldn't anymore (i.e. he was past his character arc).

Ioder and Leblanc.

Ioder never does anything except keep Yuri in the loop, tell him important information and be genuinely happy to see him. There was never any vitriol between them. The way dub Yuri gives him an attitude just comes out of nowhere. Their relationship is pretty casual, which is pretty meaningful given that Ioder is on track to be on the emperor and Yuri is, plain and simple, a commoner. One who rescued Ioder, yes, but if Ioder was a "typical" noble in this game, he might have just brushed that off as "to be expected", even if Yuri didn't know he was saving a noble at first. Point being, Ioder is nothing but pleasant toward Yuri. Yuri has no reason to be rude, much less threaten him.

At Baction, JP Yuri is understanding that Leblanc needs to grieve and is in disbelief. He doesn't know if Leblanc will try to stop them, but he does offer his condolences with the tone of his voice, i.e. again: emotional intelligence. Something they changed in the dub to be nothing but rudeness and anger. Yuri made a statement to him at that moment, i.e. not to get in their way (mind you, again, he's polite about it given the situation), but not without understanding in his tone, which is a very common aspect of Yuri in his entirety. His wording (in general, not strictly with this specific scene) comes out rough and lacks politeness, but that's made up for in how he speaks to people (either relaxed, casual, gentle, etc).

In other words, the dub pretty much always slaps a point of view bias against these characters and uses Yuri as their proxy for it. Yuri, normally, in the original context, just treats them as human beings with ebb and flow in all of their emotions and situations. Things aren't black and white - humans are complex - and that is not the point of view that I feel we're given by way of dub Yuri. We're given a man who is constantly using anger in his voice toward imperial figures even when it's completely unwarranted, and even when he knows the people in question.

Other Stuff:

Assorted things are different mainly because of the acting, but Raven's goofiness got toned way down and Karol screams much... quieter, I guess you could say. They're both more lively in general though than how they were in the dub, so that's a plus from me too.

Rita is significantly softer with Estelle in JP, and she also is much more noticeably devastated about Raven's "death" and more panicked for Karol at Zopheir. I do love Michelle Ruff's portrayal and don't know that I truly have a preference, but I think a lot of Rita's emotional barrier breaking is truly expressed more in JP.

You know I gotta bring it up: Yuri and Flynn's relationship was kind of a mess in the dub. It gives the impression of Yuri being angry a lot more often than he ever actually is, and gives off the impression that we're supposed to dislike Flynn more than we're supposed to like him. Flynn isn't someone we're supposed to actively dislike, but the portrayal of him as expressed through dub Yuri does not come off as "we're supposed to like or root for this guy", when they're much closer than that in JP.

So yeah. The bulk of this is that Yuri is just not the same person to me between versions. Also, Vesperia has way more content in Japan (drama CDs galore frankly, and Yuri is still insanely popular in Japan and is thus a frequent character alt release in the gacha games and so has tons of voice lines and general story content, there's new merch of him every year because they make merch for the characters that have their voice actors showing up to TalesFes, etc).

There's much more ease in seeing JP Yuri's personality through all of it. I think it may be more difficult for people who don't understand Japanese or any Japanese at all, and that's such a shame to me because all those people get otherwise, without anyone posting about JP Yuri, is this... weird shell of Yuri that I sometimes even hesitate to call a shell because he just feels completely different to me.

Anyway uh I love Yuri (and Flynn) and that was the point of all this, but uh... if you made it this far thank you bunches and I hope people who maybe didn't like Yuri and/or Flynn who only knew the dub will change their perspectives. 🙇‍♀️

Side update:

People have since been saying Troy was partially responsible for dub Yuri's attitude and it's the same information across people- that he had more freedom to do what he wanted with the portrayal. On that note, I feel like I'd heard this before some time back, but I couldn't remember where or if I was remembering wrong... but with this stuff in mind, I guess not. There's also the fact that, as mentioned in a reblog I've done, I've read something where he claimed he was "paying homage" to Toriumi's portrayal (to which he apparently didn't drop Toriumi's name, making me believe he did not even know it, which is honestly disrespectful imo, and I'm hoping that was a matter of the people interviewing him condensing what he said, but I can't be certain).

As I mentioned for this situation, Vesperia was the first Tales game to be released in the west at the same time as the JP release (or in this case very shortly after). Higuchi said the localization team was not in contact with the JP team. This means Troy could not have known what Toriumi's portrayal was and nor was there time to study it, as the game was released in both regions in close proximity. By the time the JP release happened, the acting on the English release would've been long finished.

This would mean Troy lied for PR and tried to make it sound good, possibly aware people would be impressed/appreciative, which is not only a lie, but is honestly an insult imo to Toriumi's work when the portrayals are nothing alike and he's implying he was inspired by Toriumi's work (despite them being nothing alike becoming obvious with audio alone). This also gives people the wrong idea because generally people would want to take that at his word and not immediately think it's not true.

Previously, I was willing to give Troy the benefit of the doubt that he didn't have too much influence on the dub versions' behavior, and that was also the case at the time I made these posts. However, between the interview with him lying about paying homage to a voice actor he apparently can't even name, and that he had influence on the direction of Yuri's tone despite that Yuri's tone already existed, I'm not interested in pretending he had nothing to do with it.

That said, I take back anything I may have said at any point about Troy not being reflected in my criticisms. Yes, I have been told "maybe they didn't have the audio though", and maybe they did. I don't know. But I do know the localization team is still largely at fault (again, regardless of who made the decision, because it wasn't necessarily the translators themselves. This refers to whoever made the decision) here because someone made the knowing decision to outright change Yuri's dialogue (when again, other stuff was accurate. This was intentional). And again, for whatever reason, they weren't in contact with the original team, and yes, Higuchi was pretty bummed about that.

Yes, I recognize this was many years ago and maybe Troy wouldn't do that again. However, in this particular situation, I do need to recognize that he did have some sway in how Yuri behaved in the dub, and I am certainly not happy that he lied about paying homage, which becomes very obvious just with audio alone, but given Higuchi's statement, well... suffice to say I'm not happy with what he did. I could've gotten past him having more freedom with the acting if that wasn't coupled with the homage comment, but... yeah. I personally can't really look past it.

Do I hate the guy? No, and I recognize this was well over a decade ago. I'm just very aggravated that this happened at all and I can't say he didn't have a hand in it because he did.

And before anyone wants to cry "she hates localizations!", no, I don't. There's a reason I point to Graces when I talk about localizations. I appreciate good and faithful localizations. To me, Yuri is not by any means a good or faithful localization. Believe me, I used to have nostalgia goggles on too. They were strong. I used to really love Troy's performance too. Those nostalgia goggles came off when I started to realize, well, everything (this is also not a dunk on the other actors. I have some gripes with Flynn's VA's comments about Flynn, but otherwise, this stuff really doesn't extend to the other actors). There are also very few localizations I get this deep into this sort of thing with, and some I would even defend.

Anyway! Again! For real this time! Thanks for reading! I do honestly appreciate it and your interest!

[burinazar]

these days i do sometimes see people literally just parrot the western-machismo ideal of 'ewww, feminine men, gross everyone who likes men should want big manly men and if they don't they're wrongheaded. smh silly misguided people' while simultaneously, and here's the rub of it and the part that makes me feel like it's bizarro world, they've truly and genuinely convinced themselves this is a meaningfully anti-bigotry position of some kind. and that liking men who are soft or thin or feminine is an insufficiently-progressive low-key-bigoted position. because it's.... i don't know, inherently fetishizing, or something. fuck if i know. i think this is bizarro-world thinking to a comical degree

i speculate it's one of the many internet phenomena that result from people looking at what's popular in their circles of awareness and going 'well this must be the societally expected default and so the principled position is to advocate for whatever its alternative is (and surely the fact i personally prefer the alternative as a matter of taste is just a coincidence)'

and not realizing that..like.. even though their internet sphere has a lot of Lisa Simpsons reading their own personal fandom version of Non-threatening Boys Magazine the western world at large still definitely eschews non-traditional masculinity and expects everyone to favor manly men rather than willowy bishounen.

so you aren't actually fighting any sort of pressing Good Fight by getting mad that some people like or depict sad wet wimpy thin boys instead of all longing for a big beef-o muscle archetype, and you should inspect whether in fact the issue is just that you dislike that aesthetic/character type (or, in a fandom context, that specific character). which if so is fine and you can enjoy the kind of content you enjoy without making it a smug grandstand

[ascel-vibes]

aUGh- being dealt 10000 damage from a gen|der|bent poll i voted on....... *despair emote holding head in hands*

[cosmicdreamgrl]

well. that was........everything i expected and yet i'm still massively disappointed

[incoherent-orca]

In ASL and SSL, this is the gesture for "Inshallah," which means means "God willing"; it's used to express hope that a specific future event will come to pass.

🇵🇸 Things you can do below 🇵🇸

🍉 SHARE posts from Palestinians, especially journalists on the ground (copy link on IG works just as well as sharing?). They're literally dying for that footage 🙃 let's make sure it counts

🍉 DONATE an E-sim @connectinghumanity_ on IG

🍉 DONATE to @CareForGaza (Twitter; donation links should be on their profile too). A lot of donation drives are just... making a grab at clout but this one is legit; a number of Gazans confirm that the food/produce is getting to them. The organizer seems to be Palestinian and living there as well

🍉 BOYCOTT brands listed by @bdsnationalcommittee on IG

Official boycott targets: AXA, Puma, Carrefour, Siemens, Ahava, HP, Sodastream, any products from Israel

Organic boycott targets: Domino's, McDonald's, Burger King, Pizza Hut, Wix

🍉 PRESSURE your governments & officials to call for a ceasefire and #InvokeGenocideConvention at the ICJ (rootsaction.org)

🍉 PROTEST. If there are mobilizations in your area, show up to be part of the count. No heroics—do what you feel safe doing and listen to the organizers.

.

.

.

.

.

it was also important to me to include an Al-Qassam fighter in this, because they're often scapegoated by Western media, and also by well-meaning allies who say "but civilians are not Hamas"; there's this attempt to separate militant resistance from the process of liberation as a whole

Yeah, most civilians are not Hamas, but they don't denounce them either. Palestinians call them freedom fighters, protectors.

because the resistance is not a bunch of evil, violent outliers; they are as much victims of the occupation as the women, children, and non-combatants are. Most if not all of them were born under the occupation; a good percentage of them are also orphans.

I will never condemn boys who live along the coast but have never seen the sea.

.

.

.

.

.

And end to the violence can't mean a return to business as usual, where the occupation and apartheid continue and Palestinians are still getting displaced on their own land. it will still take decades to rebuild homes. priceless historical and cultural items & structures have been callously destroyed and can never be recovered. nearly all the children in gaza have been made disabled and traumatized and murdered���what kind of future will they inherit?

israel must be abolished. They, the US, Canada, and the EU, must pay

Inshallah, we will not stop at a ceasefire

Inshallah, we will see complete liberation for Palestine

[screampied]

just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'

wc. 2.0k

toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,

his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”

“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..

“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”

you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”

“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”

“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”

“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.

“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”

with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”

“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”

you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”

“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”

“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”

toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”

you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”

“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”

“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”

leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”

in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like … both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”

“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”

for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—

but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.

“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”

a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”

“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”

“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.

toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.

toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.

he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.

you return the gesture,

closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.

life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.

after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”

with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’

“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”

“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”

your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”

“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”

“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.

toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”

you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”

“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.

“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”

“i .. love you too toji.”

he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.

[suzannahnatters]

all RIGHT:

Why You're Writing Medieval (and Medieval-Coded) Women Wrong: A RANT

(Or, For the Love of God, People, Stop Pretending Victorian Style Gender Roles Applied to All of History)

This is a problem I see alllll over the place - I'll be reading a medieval-coded book and the women will be told they aren't allowed to fight or learn or work, that they are only supposed to get married, keep house and have babies, &c &c.

If I point this out ppl will be like "yes but there was misogyny back then! women were treated terribly!" and OK. Stop right there.

By & large, what we as a culture think of as misogyny & patriarchy is the expression prevalent in Victorian times - not medieval. (And NO, this is not me blaming Victorians for their theme park version of "medieval history". This is me blaming 21st century people for being ignorant & refusing to do their homework).

Yes, there was misogyny in medieval times, but 1) in many ways it was actually markedly less severe than Victorian misogyny, tyvm - and 2) it was of a quite different type. (Disclaimer: I am speaking specifically of Frankish, Western European medieval women rather than those in other parts of the world. This applies to a lesser extent in Byzantium and I am still learning about women in the medieval Islamic world.)

So, here are the 2 vital things to remember about women when writing medieval or medieval-coded societies

FIRST. Where in Victorian times the primary axes of prejudice were gender and race - so that a male labourer had more rights than a female of the higher classes, and a middle class white man would be treated with more respect than an African or Indian dignitary - In medieval times, the primary axis of prejudice was, overwhelmingly, class. Thus, Frankish crusader knights arguably felt more solidarity with their Muslim opponents of knightly status, than they did their own peasants. Faith and age were also medieval axes of prejudice - children and young people were exploited ruthlessly, sent into war or marriage at 15 (boys) or 12 (girls). Gender was less important.

What this meant was that a medieval woman could expect - indeed demand - to be treated more or less the same way the men of her class were. Where no ancient legal obstacle existed, such as Salic law, a king's daughter could and did expect to rule, even after marriage.

Women of the knightly class could & did arm & fight - something that required a MASSIVE outlay of money, which was obviously at their discretion & disposal. See: Sichelgaita, Isabel de Conches, the unnamed women fighting in armour as knights during the Third Crusade, as recorded by Muslim chroniclers.

Tolkien's Eowyn is a great example of this medieval attitude to class trumping race: complaining that she's being told not to fight, she stresses her class: "I am of the house of Eorl & not a serving woman". She claims her rights, not as a woman, but as a member of the warrior class and the ruling family. Similarly in Renaissance Venice a doge protested the practice which saw 80% of noble women locked into convents for life: if these had been men they would have been "born to command & govern the world". Their class ought to have exempted them from discrimination on the basis of sex.

So, tip #1 for writing medieval women: remember that their class always outweighed their gender. They might be subordinate to the men within their own class, but not to those below.

SECOND. Whereas Victorians saw women's highest calling as marriage & children - the "angel in the house" ennobling & improving their men on a spiritual but rarely practical level - Medievals by contrast prized virginity/celibacy above marriage, seeing it as a way for women to transcend their sex. Often as nuns, saints, mystics; sometimes as warriors, queens, & ladies; always as businesswomen & merchants, women could & did forge their own paths in life

When Elizabeth I claimed to have "the heart & stomach of a king" & adopted the persona of the virgin queen, this was the norm she appealed to. Women could do things; they just had to prove they were Not Like Other Girls. By Elizabeth's time things were already changing: it was the Reformation that switched the ideal to marriage, & the Enlightenment that divorced femininity from reason, aggression & public life.

For more on this topic, read Katherine Hager's article "Endowed With Manly Courage: Medieval Perceptions of Women in Combat" on women who transcended gender to occupy a liminal space as warrior/virgin/saint.

So, tip #2: remember that for medieval women, wife and mother wasn't the ideal, virgin saint was the ideal. By proving yourself "not like other girls" you could gain significant autonomy & freedom.

Finally a bonus tip: if writing about medieval women, be sure to read writing on women's issues from the time so as to understand the terms in which these women spoke about & defended their ambitions. Start with Christine de Pisan.

I learned all this doing the reading for WATCHERS OF OUTREMER, my series of historical fantasy novels set in the medieval crusader states, which were dominated by strong medieval women! Book 5, THE HOUSE OF MOURNING (forthcoming 2023) will focus, to a greater extent than any other novel I've ever yet read or written, on the experience of women during the crusades - as warriors, captives, and political leaders. I can't wait to share it with you all!

[nemesyaaa]

western nights // mean!S2!barry x kook!reader x s2!rafe

summary ; /

warnings ; mentions and using of drugs. kinda violence. barry doesn't give a shit about pogue/kook thing. threesome(mxmxf/switch). smut without real plot. shotgunning (smoking). choking. double p in v. boys kissing (if you see that challengers reference, no you don't.), oral (f&m receiving.). scars mentions. threats.(3k words.). be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i want rafe and barry back as a chaotic duo for S4 part 2, please. it's a threat, not a request. im watching you obx screenwriters.

“someone you know very well owes me money.”

you looked up from your line of cocaine in a loud snort, before sitting comfortably on the bed while rubbing your nose to clean it quickly.

"and how does that concern me barry? you have your business, i have mine. and by the way, are you stalking my clients because you're losing yours ? ”

“ you’re such a fucking ungrateful princess. let me remind you that it’s because of me that you even have a business in the first place. you were nobody before i helped you, it doesn’t matter how much of a kook you are in this business.”

"wow.. someone’s got an attitude. it's not my fault your boy chose me over you.”

"yeah, he’s gonna regret that when you fuck him over."

“and why would i do that?”

he approached you, a big blunt falling out of his lips, before leaning toward you, made you feel quietly small. a short breath escaped your throat while you shivered. a smile with a wicked expression on his eyes showed on his face. “ still afraid of me. why ? it’s been a long time since i’ve had to put you in your place. you still got that scar? ” with a sick, softened voice, he added just over your lips. “that expensive makeup covers it up real good.”

“ what do you want, barry ? ”

in the intimacy of silence between the two of you, he pressed a thumb in the corner of your lips, letting his finger open it a little wider, before pulling out and blowing smoke directly into your mouth, letting your tongue disappear on the shot.

you scoffed, before your throat had swallowed the smoke. “ i want my money. and you're gonna do what i ask you. ”

“ and if i don’t ? ”

“ you don’t have much of a choice actually.”

barry placed himself above you, more threatening than when he welcomed you into his home. you placed a hand on his chest before responding calmly. “ don't be mad at me. it's your own fault you decided to trust him. why are you giving him free shit? you know he can afford it. and don’t give any of that ‘he said he’ll bring the money next time’ bullshit, when has rafe cameron ever been trustworthy?”

“ y/n. don’t start shit you can’t finish. ” he warned.

"what do you want me to do? you have a gun, and no reputation to preserve, if you want to shoot him, he's all yours. don't involve me in this. i'm having a good relationship with my client, do not mess it up. "

“do you think it’s that easy, princess?” he laughed nervously. "obviously. you really think I can get away with taking out Rafe Cameron?”

"i just think if you really wanted to, you would. Since when does Rafe scare you anyway? "

"i had a little disagreement with ward. it’ll just be easier if you handle it."

“what do i gain from all this?”

“It’s your choice. But we’ll talk about it when we’re out of this situation.”

you sighed. the next day, you invited rafe cameron to your house. like every time you called him, he came back.

“ so, where’s the coke ? ” he asked. “ tell me you have something for me. ”

"obviously I do, I'm a dealer, what did you expect ? But do I have any for you ? that's another question. ” you frowned. your gaze was on his beaten puppy face, his eyes were glinting, completely desperate, and his voice was almost pleading and nervous. “ i think i’ve been too nice to you, rafe. maybe i should be mean for once. look at this scar you have, should i give you another one? because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t behave. ”

“I’m begging you, please. i'm gonna pay you back.”

"begging already? wow. tell me why i should believe you’re pay me back?”

“ just trust me. you know i have money, i just have to get it.”

“ i have no reason to trust you. “ you shook your head with a tsk tsk that meant you didn’t believe him. he was a pathological liar, it was in his nature to save his ass with lies.

you laughed in frustration, making him raise an eyebrow. "you’re gonna pay me back, huh? I’m not even the only person you owe money to. is this about what we did last time?”

“If i can recall, you were enjoying yourself just fine.” he cut in.

"rafe. you have nothing to offer me. to tell you the truth, if I really needed money, there are ways I can get it. So whatever is going on here, it’s not fair because you’re getting something out of it and I’m not.”

"I told you, I’m gonna pay you back, just please, give it to me. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

"We’re going to try this another way. I’ll see you tomorrow and if you have the money you owe us then you’re good. And I’ll take care of you again.”

you kicked him out of your house. the next day, he showed up in your room as you were coming out of your shower. you planned to procrastinate all day before he stormed off like crazy.

"What are you doing? You think you can show up here like this?”

“I have your fucking money. now, i want my coke. i did what you wanted me to do ! ”

you smiled, while giving a pat on his curtain bangs. “ good job, pretty boy. ”

“where’s the coke? give it to me. ”

“i don’t have any.” you replied.

rafe laughed, a nervous and uncomfortable laugh. he took a few steps towards you, pushing you against the wall.

“rafe?”

“where’s the fucking coke? ”

“dude, are you high?” you asked, suddenly unwell by the rising tension you can't feel through the air. “ i just tol...”

he was mad, more than that, frustrated. the way you played with his feelings, you were making him go around in circles. and his hands began to irritate him, to make him wickedly agitated. which meant that he was gradually losing control because you were showing that it was you who had the power. he was just asking for drugs, only a little. it was such a small ask in his eyes, just a fucking line how you gave him some every time he came. like a child's whim, you couldn't take away from him what you had always given him. from his point of view, it was not okay.

and the thing was, you were doing it just now. he felt a horrible chaos inside him which made him spiral. his hands fell terribly on your throat, fingers wrapping in tight around you like a collar.

"i just asked you a question. and you better hope your answer is what i want to hear, because if it’s not this isn’t gonna be fun for you.” he whispered, his lips softly ghosting over yours.

“you’re scaring me….rafe ”

“ good, maybe now you’ll show me some fucking respect.”

he grabbed you by the throat, forcing you to bend your knees so that you were at his feet. you coughed, and he responded with a smirk.

“i don’t have your fucking coke. "

“but you know what, that’s not fair. i held up my end of the deal, o got your money and you don’t have my coke.”

he slipped each of the bills against your tongue down to the exact amount he owed you, forcing your mouth to stay open.

"not having so much fun now, huh?”

“ what a great surprise, my two favorite people in the same place. " had commented a voice behind the kook.

it was barry. you and rafe both shivered. at the same time.

“what the hell is this ?” rafe replied.

“relax country club, i didn’t come to give you a hard time. ”

“so why are you here ?” Rafe replied.

you spat the money back into your mouth and barry came closer to you.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you replied.

"so you're stealing my clients, you're taking my money and what more, you're lying to me?" barry had wisely articulated.

“wait, what do you mean?”

“shut up, rafe.”

“barry, it’s not what you think.”

"that's exactly what i believe. but you know what I believe even more? is that you need to be taught a fucking lesson.yeah, spoiled, rich girls like you need to learn that they can't play with everyone. come on, country club. ”

“barry.” you started. " listen..."

"I would love to listen to you, princess but I'm going to have a hard time doing once i fill that pretty mouth with my cock."

“what?” you retorted.

" oh you know, i'm in a grear mood. you seem to really enjoy playing with people around you. guess today, it's just my turn to play. i'm also thinking we should invite rafe to this game. would be fair actually. will princess be able to say sorry after being her nasty mouth being fucked to death ? ” replied barry by pulling you by the side of your face, hair caged in his grip, making you gasp.

“ pretty sure, bitch like her can. ”

" you're too high to even know where you put your dick. ” you said.

“ very funny. ”he laughed in a sarcastic way, before pulling his pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach, following his movement by plunging it straight into your mouth, one hand with rings covering your throat, pressed tightly his fingers against the back of your neck. “still funny?” he continued as he pushed himself even deeper, feeling his dick deep down in the inside of your pleasing mouth widening around him. “ can't even answer now. ”

Barry smiled before undressing his pants, guiding your hand to his own cock. you quickly got the hang of it, starting to masturbate him, your free hand circled around his full length stroking back and forth, all the while having rafe’s thick length, lodged hard in your throat.

your fist was wrapped around barry’s cock, fingers tightening and sliding around his girth quickly while rafe was buried completely inside your mouth, fucking you faster on the tongue. you already started to get soaked on the inside of your thighs, the wet forming a damp spot on the fabric of your underwear.

both boys stood in front of you, above your kneeling position while you were at their commands. barry invited himself into your mouth, his cock next to rafe's hitting your dripping, sloppy tongue. their two dicks were working your throat at the same time, same pace as your muscle rolled over the two shafts that stretched you open. you could feel the weight of their lengths filling your stuffed mouth. your face was weeping with spit and saliva.

you grabbed their cocks with your free hands, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your fingers, their grunts hovering in the room.

your mouth was completely blocked by the growing size of their dick. rafe smeared all the drool from your mouth on your face, before spitting on your tongue, followed by barry. you touched them both while continuing to deepthroat the two boys. you let your tongue run on the veiny flesh of their dick, trailing your wet muscle around their veins, followed by balls lapping. your received both of their cocks so well like you were always made for this. you coughed several times, letting a trickle of saliva slip from your jaw. they both pulled out, before slapping their cocks on your drooling cheeks. your face was pressed with tears, running down your skin to the floor.

“don’t be lazy, open your legs. ” ordered rafe.

you had spread your thighs, leaving them with a full view of your glistening pussy. “ but look at you, already so wet, soaking like a mess when neither rafe or me already touched you. ” barry mocked.

rafe pushed your glossy lips apart with two fingers making you suck on them, stuffing you full in the mouth to the throat and barry found a place between your legs, and trailed his tongue against your folds filled with wetness that poured over his face.

he traced your clit, before eating out your hole that was pulsing against his messy mouth, the way his tongue licked your slit, slurping in and out, before circling your beating clit. his lips were wrapped around you, dirty lapping your cunt as rafe taking his thick fingers deeper in your throat to the point you choked on them. he cleaned them with his own mouth, before diving his thumb in your lips. the corner of your mouth were foaming as he roughly brushed his digits inside your cavity, two fingers fucking your tongue and throat, as barry widly sucking your cunt. your taste were flowing and he keeping it before kissing you slowly, let in drip back in your mouth.

“ do not swallow it. i bet country club wants a taste of you…” he commented, through the kiss.

without swallowing, you kissed rafe, moving your lips against his and released your tongue over his own. you were over the moon, both of them kissing you, tongue mixed with streams of saliva, and nasty spits.

you placed your hand through your slit, before pushing your fingers against rafe's mouth, forcing him to open wider while you do the same with your other hand with barry's mouth, feeding the two boys with your juice flowing around their hanged jaw. you rushed your digits further in their throat, as they gasped around them. you were so turned on, the way they were literally drooling like dogs over your hands was making you feel insane.

you slowly pulled out your hands as their faces got closer to each other, while watching them kissing through your dirty fingers. you watched them with a twisted smile, as rafe hand reached the throat of barry, his thumb running over his cheek. your gaze was focused on them, and your ears filled with the wet and horny sound of them licking each other. that was hot, and you hated how hot it was. “ are you gonna fuck or should i do it all the work myself ? ”

“ want to be fucked so bad ? ” cutted rafe.

“ is my legs open enough for you, rafe ? ” you said, teasing him flirty.

“ she's really asking for it. ” answered barry.

“ which one's gonna fuck me first ? ”

they both laughed at you as you said something very funny. you raised an eyebrow.

“ you're gonna take us.”

“ it's not gonna fit. ”

“ it's gonna fit. because that pussy is tired of being tight. ”

when they started fucking you it made the heat rise inside you. your whole body was horribly hot, their two cocks were both pressed and stuck in the same hole. you gripped the sheets with your fist, while they stretched your weeping pussy over and over, shoving every inch of their cocks into your soaking pussy. your head was spinning as you lost yourself completely, your flesh smushed onto the mattress. both wrecked your canal, and hitting every one of your spots. you felt strange spasms, a mixture of pleasure and pain as you trembl d and moaned under their thrusts.

“ don't fucking cry, you're the one who wanted those cocks inside you. was too mean to do what your pussy begged for ? too late. neither rafe nor i are going to stop. ” shouted barry while ramming his hips against you in a brutal stroke, making you whine harder.

“ pl-please…”

“ the only thing you need to “ please please ” is for us to fuck you even harder. ” continued the curtain bangs one with a sick smile around his lips.

rafe shutted you cries with a rough snap of his hips, his firm body slammed into yours, while barry next to him, pounded you in the same raw way. his hair was messy as yours, unbrushed and bouncing against his shoulders, as the air became more hotter. you were crying and panting for breath like a crybaby, tits swaying while your vision was getting blurred.

the kook one grabbed your face, hollowing your cheeks with his fingers, before spitting in your open mouth, watching his globe of saliva dripping from your glossy lips. inspired, barry spat on rafe's mouth, forbid him to swallow with his hand brushed on his partner jaw before letting the spit drooling over your mouth.

the pace sped up, as your pussy squeezed them like a vice, the room filled with the wet smacking sounds of your core getting speared roughly. they were fucking you deeply, your cunt dripping around them as they thrusted into you back and forth, all spots getting touch.

next position, you were bouncing on rafe's dick, big hand tugged on your hips, your ass jiggling against and slamming into his large spreaded thighs, as barry letting you suck on his dick. you were giddy, feeling overheated, messing everywhere on both of them. they were working on each part of your body, the overstimulation draining you.

“ suck it well, pretty thing.” he grabbed your jaw, his glare locked into your teary eyes. “ don't forget that you have still another free hole. and trust me, you don't want two cocks in. ”

your mouth found barry's cock, tongue out and wrapped around his crazy shaft, as you slowly pushed your muscle above his tip. you were now used to it, and sucked it directly to the throat, you spitting on it before licking to feel the size hitting the deep of your neck. you were like a dizzy free-use doll that were fucked to heaven.

you placed the dick of barry between your swayed tits that was unstoppable because of rafe's hard strokes on your sloppy cunt. your cunt that was actually filled by his large cock. before starting to pump the dealer with your boobs, you caged the painful boner in the middle of your breasts, and pressed them to the bulging girth before moving up and down quickly. when you heard his raspy grunts near your ears, his mouth and breath brushed your sensitive skin, you accelerated the pace, leaving him growling speechless.

few minutes later, he came around your neck, painting your flesh with white loads. rafe released his cum in you five minutes after, while kissing you, swallowing every breath of yours.

you fell on your back, completely exhausted. “ you guys…are crazy…”

“ just the beginning. ”

[buffetlicious]

Slightly more than a month had passed and I had to pack dinner for myself and mum. So I introduced her to Western Boy Express and their Chicken Steak Aglio Olio (鸡扒蒜香意面). Guess what, she enjoyed her crispy and juicy chicken pasta dinner and now often asked for it. The last time I declined to top up for the set meal so this time I paid S$3 to add a salad, fries with nacho cheese sauce & mayonnaise plus a mushroom soup.

[velvetvexations]

as a japanese queer man, thank you for bringing up the racism of how western queer people apply western queerness to japanese queerness, and then get upset when our queerness is not western enough. its always frustrating in western fandom how often people refuse to care about japanese queerness and queer culture and history, and then say we're "bad queers" for not being western enough or not automatically fitting in western boxes or for being effected by our own queer history instead of western queer history. lots of people have the strange idea that things that are made in japan, by japanese people, for japanese people, are actually made for western consumption, instead of it being a privilege and gift to receive an export at all in most cases. so, they say our queerness is wrong and offensive, call gender non-conformity in a conformist society "bad queerness" and that they should be gender conforming trans people instead, and that somehow that would be more daring, and not that its actually often harder for people to come to terms with someone wanting to be a non-conforming *man/woman* and not see themself as a conforming man/woman who is trans and therefore more conforming. i feel like its every day i see western queer people online say our queerness needs to be fixed by westernization. it makes me not want to use western spaces anymore. so much racism on the topic. its the type of racism people seem unaware exists, and they have. "im not racist, i hate racists" and then they go on a rant about how japanese queerness is inferior and confusing and designed to harm western queer people? its a bit hard to put into words, but its frustrating and happens a lot. i was suprised to see you stand up for us, its really rare. thank you! boys who cross dress already are told to choose between becoming a conforming woman or a conforming man. its not fair to them and their choice to call them bad for refusing. queerness itself means strange, so.... i feel like they should be accepted with more understanding of how it feels to stand apart from everyone else.

They are truly convinced in their heart of hearts that gender is real and that Trans Woman is a Real Tangible Concept that exists in the genetic blueprint of the human race, and that any society that doesn't conform in such a way that divides gender expression exactly the way they do is doing it out of hatred for the Real Tangible Concept that is Trans Womanhood.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical graphic depictions

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

You were running on coffee and willpower, and both were in short supply. You cradled what you promised would be your last cup in your hands, feeling your fried nerves inch closer to bursting into flames with every bitter sip. 

Azriel had one arm looped protectively around your waist, propping you up against his side like an overworked bookend. You both sat huddled over the map you’d spent the last day and night laboring over until you could picture every stark line pressed behind shuttered eyelids like an afterimage. Until your cramped hands shook while clutching the mug like a vice. 

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Nesta, Lucien, and Cassian similarly hovered over the innocuous sheet of paper. Pale parchment glow flickering over expressions of intense thought. 

You traced the outline of the lake, its form vaguely star shaped and pointing abstractly towards the north, south, east, and west.

“Here.” You tapped the northeast edge where a greyed out huddle of shapes formed the forest and a collection of scribbles marked the Death god’s home close to the waters. The lines swirled in your mind like a thousand snakes locked in battle, swallowing each other whole and getting eaten alive in an endless, vicious cycle. 

Koschei’s portion of the continent lay flat and unassuming, seemingly vulnerable with the flatlands peering at his back with limitless entry points for enemies from the Continent. But the seductive ease of access through that region was a guise. Koschei was a death god, and a powerful one at that. Magic grew in and out of the soil there and what walked those woods had a strange habit of toeing the line between life and death.

The western corners swam in seas of grasslands, flat and open and unprotected save for the expanse of water a mile wide. 

And the lake. The lake was the most curious thing of all. A black shape on paper, still and foreboding. 

You knew from Andrian’s memories that enchanted swans flocked there — women layered with curses that kept them bound to the region in animal form — but nothing else. No creatures floundered in the salty dark. No animals came to drink from it as if they could sense the power that tainted it with decay. 

“The boundaries of the Koschei’s power lie somewhere along here.” You pointed to the lazy line sketched down. “But I wouldn’t trust it. When Andrian was first sent off from the lake he crossed the plains towards one of the harbor towns on the coast and he felt that Koschei’s influence scaled with the distance away from the source of his power.” 

“Any weak points? Places we could slip in unnoticed?” Feyre’s eyes scanned the page, reimagining your weak swirls of ink into something more layered. Something with more meaning that could only come about from the mind of an artist and a warrior. 

You pointed to one of the star points and then to another toward the south. “Here and here. Don’t ask me how and don’t ask me why but these are the only two blind spots. Andrian used to sneak away from Koschei’s house to these two places.”

“To do what?” Cassian asked. He lumbered towards the back of the war room, easily peering over everyone’s shoulders to the flattened parchment and eyeing the wooden pieces strewn across the map, his own piece being tipped with a glistening red stone. 

“To plan his escape.” 

A hush fell over the room, thick and suffocating. 

The boy had never succeeded.

Feyre’s lips flattened to a pale line, the air around her reverberating with heat as the temperature in the room rose — a drop of Autumn’s power magnified. She nodded to the second map, this one gathered from Azriel’s contacts on the Continent. Whereas your map had laid out Koschei’s land in detail, Azriel’s was suspiciously empty where the lake was concerned. The two fit together like puzzle pieces. “What’s the nearest harbor town?”

“Tournnes.” Azriel replied without needing to look down. You’d memorized one map, he’d memorized the other. “It’s a small fishing village located twenty-three miles to the southwest. Most of the inhabitants are men that come and go with the season and travel west from Slairn and Friesieg. It will be empty this time of year.” The fish would have gone south in search of warmer waters. Even here the Sidra had turned frigid, crusts of ice lapping up against grey sand shores. 

Cassian shook his head, examining the map with a scowl. “There’s poor coverage getting from Tournnes to Koschei. And an abandoned town’s too obvious a place to hide any soldiers. It’d be better to come in from the east, through the woods.”

“Then we’d need to take the long way around Koschei’s territory.” Lucien argued back, “Our soldiers would need to trek through foreign lands for weeks and we’d lose any advantage Tarquin could give us by staying close to the coast.” 

“You can’t trust those woods,” you gasped, your eyes flashing with fear that didn’t wholly belong to you. 

Never enter those woods. Henna had once warned her Andrian. Never. Do you understand me?

Azriel tightened his hold on you, pressing his lips into your hair to brush against your ear. “Breathe, my love. Breathe.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. 

It was a heavy burden carrying the memories of others. Like a weight tied around your belly that hadn’t been properly woven into flesh. Something both part and apart from you. And you’d been feeling too many of Andrian’s memories in the past week since his death. 

Silence flung itself over growing irritation and anxiety as everyone circled back to the same conclusion. 

They wouldn’t be able to bring their armies abroad. And with limited numbers, brute strength would only go so far when forced to bring a fight to a foreign land against a foreign god. This would be decided by few. It would be as intimate as lovers. As ruthless as enemies. 

“There’s still the other plan.” Nesta reminded them, glancing first at Feyre and you with the faintest of nods. 

“I hate that plan, Nes.” Cassian gripped the back of her wing-backed chair and she reached up to take his hand in her own. She looked like a queen in her own right — harsh, pragmatic, unwavering. And he her mirror — a roguish knight, rough and wild and raw. 

“I know. Unfortunately for you, it’s the best one we’ve got.” 

“It’s the only one we’ve got.” Mor said with a sigh, rubbing her temples to alleviate the ache there. “We’re asking for a blood bath one way or the other.” 

“Ione is still with us.” Rhys squeezed his cousin’s knee. “Without her, he can be killed.” 

“But for how long, Rhys? How long until he finds someone else? Some other way?”

The question hung in the air like an ax ready to fall. An invisible clock ticking its way towards doom. Koschei had read the book’s contents. He had to know the secret to freeing himself was sheltered in Ione’s veins. So long as she was alive and breathing she was a threat as much as she was a tantalizing prize for him to tear his teeth into. 

Feyre’s fingernails clicked on the glossy tabletop, eyes narrowed in on that splash of black on paper. Through the golden string tied to her lower ribs, she felt the tug of her mate’s silent agreement. Her eyes flickered upward for a brief moment, as if she could see through the layers of the House to the skies above. “For as long as we have Ione, we have the upper hand. But we can’t rely on it forever.” She looked at you, “ We go with the first plan. It will have to be enough.” 

You shivered. 

Four years ago, when the Day Court had first opened its borders to foreigners from other Courts, you’d encountered a male in the market. He’d been young and reckless and glamoured himself to live amongst the humans for six months. In that time, he’d learned their version of magic — the sleight of hand tricks and elaborate games of misdirection humans played on one another. Caped entertainers bedazzling crowds with obvious moves, while the real work happened just out of frame. 

You thought of him now. You pictured him in the marketplace as he made a hand-painted playing card disappear from his hand into the fold of his suit jacket, only to reappear under an overturned teacup. 

Yes. 

It would have to be enough. 

The crisp blade flashed in the dull light as you moved your feet back and forth in a practiced dance. 

Left, left, right, duck, keep your wrist straight and slice up. Just like Azriel had instructed you. He stood off the narrow mat, hazel eyes tracing every slow movement of yours with a critical gaze. 

“Practice makes permanence.” He’d reminded you earlier. “Get it right first, then we’ll worry about speed.” 

Magic hovered over the House of Wind’s training gym, warping the air like a soap bubble as it shielded you from the frigid rain. Even so, the scent of petrichor and the cleanliness of frosted wind hung close to warn of the storm churning its way down from the north, carrying with it the promise of rainfall or the first true flakes of snow. 

How poetic that winter should come with death chasing its heels while you were learning a dozen ways to kill a man. 

“Here.” Azriel took your wrist in a loose grip, arching your arm and sticking the point of the knife into the training dummy’s jugular. Hay crinkled and burst out from the burlap covering instead of blood and you stepped away, locating the points in the liver, the lungs, the heart, the throat, under the arms, and more. Gruesome things made digestible by the motionless, fake body propped up on wooden poles. 

You didn’t need to imagine what it would feel like for your blade to meet flesh. 

Your arms ached. Hot, unfamiliar stretches of muscle trembling while slick with sweat. You could taste salt on your tongue as Azriel repeated himself. 

“Be precise. Be quick if you can. Then run like hell.” 

Incapacitation and speed. Those were the only two things you could rely on if things went south on the Continent. 

Precise. Quick. Run.

“Emphasis on run,” You muttered beneath your breath. You adjusted your feet to match Azriel’s stance, feeling the strength of his muscles close to your body and imagining some of that power seeping into the ground for you to drink up. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, then rose in a smile. “Exactly.” He stepped in, hands twisting your hips to be straight and then drifting up to your wrist. “Too much.” He corrected your bones with a feather-light touch. He wasn’t smiling anymore. 

It should have been romantic. Him touching you like this with his front pressed against your back and his breath sliding over your skin as he taught you to wield a knife. Instead his insides churned relentlessly. Visions of you, blood-splattered and motionless on the ground, flashed through his mind. He’d be damned if he let that happen again. 

You practiced on him next. Blunt, stone knife gripped in your hands as he moved in slow-motion. Azriel must have had everything custom made for you. The balance felt right in your hands, the movement as fluid as your awkward limbs could manage. 

You clasped a hand around the back of his neck, dragging him forward as you swung up. 

Where the head goes, the body will follow.

He didn’t so much as grunt as the stone wedged itself into his ribs. 

You locked eyes with him and saw his pupils blown wide as a doe’s. “Good.” He murmured. “Again.” 

On and on you went for hours, Azriel’s panic fueling the training he put you through, as if he could fit a hundred years of combat into a handful of hours. 

You grunted when Azriel easily flipped you over onto your back, a scarred hand catching the nape of your neck so your head wouldn’t slam into the floor. The knife slipped out from your sweaty fingers, skittering away and disappearing beneath one of the weapons racks along the wall. You breathed heavily beneath him, feeling the grit of the ground and the sweat sliding into your hair and the leather brushing your chest with every breath he took. 

In a real fight, Azriel would have killed you a thousand times over and he knew it. There was not a single moment where you could have saved yourself. 

You saw the tell tale flicker in his eyes, the tensing of his jaw before he gritted his teeth and swore beneath his breath. 

You felt shame seep into your stomach again. “Az—”

“I want you to take my memories,” he said. “Everything I’ve learned over 500 years.” 

Metal whispered against leather as a tendril of shadow retrieved the knife and slid it into the thigh sheath Azriel had tied around your legs only hours ago. It felt strange to have such an unfamiliar weight against your thighs. To know that only leather kept the wicked blade from slicing you to the bone. 

“We’ve been over this before, Azriel. I can take however many memories I want from you until I can picture every way to take down an enemy in my mind’s eye. But that doesn’t mean my body will obey or follow through correctly. Knowing things mentally isn’t the same thing as knowing things physically.”

Azriel huffed in frustration, dropping one hand to your waist like he often did and gripping the flesh there to ground him. 

“If we had more time—”

“When this is over we’ll have more time.” 

If I make it. 

Because if there was anyone who would survive what was to come. It was Azriel. And you could find a great deal of comfort in that.

Azriel must have read your doubt because his eyes hardened and his hands came up to cup your jaw. “We will have more time. We’ll have time for everything, do you understand me?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want. We’ll travel the Courts. I’ll take you dancing and—”

“You’ll teach me a dozen new ways to kill someone?” 

“Exactly.”

“Should I start keeping a tally?” 

“If that would help, then yes.” He dipped his head down, kissing you firmly on the lips, the taste salty and warm to the touch. Kissing you came easy now. Touches were a comforting drug he craved daily. 

“If things go wrong—” He whispered, flicking a strand of hair out of your eyes. “Promise me you’ll find me.” 

You blinked up at him, tracing fragments of gold in his eyes. 

“Find you,” you echoed, your voice tinged with sadness. “You’re not going to convince me to run?”

He laughed bitterly. “I know you too well, my love. You wouldn’t listen even if I did. If anything, it would make you want to stay and fight even more, just to prove me wrong.“ “Then is this some reverse psychology? You tell me the opposite of what you want, so I end up doing what you intended all along?”

“You’re thinking too deeply about this.” He slid his arms around the small of your back, dropping his weight until you were flush against him. Until you could feel his heart beating beneath his skin in time to yours. “Find me, so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.” 

You caressed his cheek, the coarse bandages he’d wound around your wrists and knuckles scratching the skin of his jaw and the faint stubble that had grown there over sleepless nights. “I promise I’ll find you, Azriel. We’re better together anyways.” 

He could never disagree with you. He lifted you back onto your feet, kissing your forehead. “Three more drills, then we’ll be done for the day.” 

He made you run five. The bastard.

You’d dreamed of what might come. Nightmares filled with glassy-eyed children and skeletal forests where the dead roamed free. A black lake with stones of bleached bone to fill your lungs and choke the life out of you. 

You wanted to make Azriel proud. You wanted to be the kind of warrior who could match him physically, not just mentally. The kind of female he’d never have to worry about protecting in that way. But violence had never been beaten into your bones and you could only hope that the skills you did possess would see you through to the end. 

You and Azriel would make it. You’d all make it. 

Some way. 

Somehow. 

Then there would be time for everything you had ever wanted and everything you’d never had the courage to ask for.

You woke up to a world shivering beneath a dusting of snow. Frost creeped up the windowsill, trying to slither inside before the House’s magic burned it away. A grey, ashen sky hung low over the mountains, mist blowing over and gathering in valleys until they were transformed into pools of smoke. 

So this is it. You thought wearily, tasting the change in the air. Winter’s finally here to choke the world into submission. 

You burrowed further under Azriel’s wings, chasing the heat that rolled off his skin. When you looked up at his eyes they were already trained on the weather, some similar tangle of thoughts running through his mind that had his grip around your waist tightening. 

“The other death gods. Have you met any of them, Az?” You whispered your question into the hollow of his neck, feeling the blood rushing beneath your lips until he answered.

“I’ve met a fair few. The Bone Carver, Stryga, and Bryaxis joined our side in the final battle against Hybern and Nesta was equivalent in power when she first emerged from the Cauldron.” 

“Nesta?” You asked questionably. 

She was a collection of sharp edges wrapped in silk and cunning, but a death god? 

Azriel smiled ever so slightly. “You didn’t know her then, but she was a terror to behold. You could feel her presence in a room like a knife in your back or a flame licking at your heels so hold it starts to freeze. Only Cassian was foolish and lovestruck enough to approach her at the time.” 

You tried to imagine it — Cassian’s wild, borderline arrogant mannerisms going toe-to-toe against Nesta’s magnified sharp grace. “That sounds about right.” 

“Feyre knows the most about the death gods. Has come face to face with the most. Rhys sent her into the Weaver’s cabin to retrieve her engagement ring — don’t give me that look, my love, I don’t understand it either — and she’s the one who convinced The Bone Carver and Bryaxis to fight for us.” 

“Feyre has a penchant for endearing herself to monsters.” 

Azriel smirked, pearly teeth flashing. “You have no idea.” Then he said something that stuck with you. “The Bone Carver was especially close to her.” 

Anytime the Bone Carver — Thanatos — was mentioned, you could only think of Bethsevah. The one person who had ever looked upon his true face and never flinched.

“How so?” 

Shadows swarmed around his ears, as much a sign of his thinking as it was a sign that whispers beyond your own understanding were reaching him. 

“When Feyre met with the Bone Carver, he made a bargain that he’d only fight for her if she could descend into the Court of Nightmares and bring back an enchanted mirror without going mad. Feyre said she saw her true form when she looked into her reflection, and that it was only by accepting this form that she was able to keep the madness at bay. The Bone Carver was impressed with her and pledged his loyalty to her from then on.” Azriel shook his head, wings flaring out in another sign of his thinking. “It never made sense to me why a being like him would even make that bargain to begin with.” 

“Even death gods can be surprised. We should consider ourselves lucky.” 

“It wasn’t just that though. I was watching when he died. He… he turned his face up to the field at Feyre and he smiled at her. It felt like a bittersweet ending to a story I didn’t know. Like he was saying goodbye to more than just this world.” 

You draped your arm over his chest, tracing the black ink swirling across his chest and over his shoulders like ocean waves. The Bone Carver was more myth than legend to the few fae that had known of his existence and you knew with each passing century his story would be steadily wiped from the earth like wind shaving down stone. His name would become a whisper. His story, and Beth’s, a tragedy for no one but the stars to weep to. 

But you were still here, and your time with Bethsevah’s book had left you with no small amount of fondness for him. For now you would still be able to whisper his true name. 

“Thanatos.” You said. “He loved this world and the people in it. He sacrificed his life for it. I think he had many things he wanted to say goodbye to.” 

“To Thanatos then.” Azriel raised an invisible cup towards the ceiling of his bedroom, silk sheets sliding down his arms.

“To Thanatos,” you echoed. 

You eventually went through the morning motions together —Azriel helped lace up the back of your dress, and you buttoned up his shirts, careful to avoid the fragile membrane of his wings as you stood at his back.

He tugged you away from the bedroom door at the last moment, your questioning eyes softening when he cradled your face in his hands and stole one last kiss in the privacy of your room, murmuring "Beautiful," against the crown of your freshly brushed hair.

"Do the others know you're such a hopeless romantic?" You asked, finally opening the door and breaking the spell of privacy.

Before Azriel could answer, Cassian blew past the room, shockingly quiet for his mountainous size. "Yes, we all know," he shouted before disappearing down the hall.

Ione stood proud and tall in front of the windows, grey eyes narrowed at the Sidra as it wound through the valley like a snake. Cassian slid into the space beside her and handed her her cane. She knew instinctively where the warrior stood and where his hand reached out towards her. She took the cane without the second glance. A golden lion’s head roared from atop its wooden post, Ione’s fingers resting squarely between its glistening teeth as she leaned experimentally on the new device. Cassian had ordered it custom for her and she knew that hidden within the sleeve of glistening redwood was an iron rod forged in enchanted flames that rendered it near unbreakable. 

“Careful.” She reminded Cassian when she caught him staring for too long. “This body may be different, but I can still bring you to your knees.” 

Cassian chuckled, “I don’t doubt that.”

She slammed the cane against the ground once. Twice. Testing its strength and finding it worthy. “Do you think it will happen soon?” 

This waiting — it was beginning to grate on her nerves. This foreboding calm that threatened to fall away into chaos and bloodshed. She almost wished she were living three years into the future, when she was finally done healing from her wounds and the future had faded into the background of her life once more.

“If I could see into the future, I would not be here right now waiting.”

“And yet here we are.” Ione sighed, shoulders rising and falling elegantly beneath a wrinkled but slender neck.  

Cassian would have said more had Feyre and Rhys not entered the room together, bruises layered beneath their eyes as they plastered on bright smiles for their family, tension visible through the cracks in their porcelain teeth. 

The Inner Circle had assembled in their entirety at the request of their High Lord and High Lady. There was no holiday to be celebrated. No birthdays or anniversaries or special occasions. The fare that had been laid out on the table was simple and everyone filled their plates before spilling out across the sofas and the armchairs or carving out a space on one of Rhysand’s expensive hand-woven rugs. There would be no special meal around the new table devoid of scratches and watermarks and the passage of time and love. This was their family, and for their family it was the company that put finery to shame. 

Elain was a flutter of movement in and out of the kitchen, shepherding pots of tea and fruit tarts before Lucien finally caught her around the waist and made her rest. The House was equally restless. The lights strung above the fireplace mantle flickered like lantern flies. 

Mor sat with Emerie’s wings draped around her shoulders like a cape and Gwyn sat on the floor, hugging her knees close to her chest as she rested her head against the Illyrian female’s knee. To no one’s surprise, you and Azriel clung to the corner of the room, content to watch everyone’s laughter with your arm subtly looped around his. 

He still hasn’t told her, I see. Emerie noted, watching your smile stretch into place when Azriel leaned close to whisper in your ear. 

Does it matter? Mor teased, kissing Emerie’s nose reverently. The Illyrian’s cheeks turned warm. Emerie had not been granted the freedom to explore romance to the same degree as Mor, something she’d worried about when they first started their courtship. But if anyone asked the blonde, she’d tell them it drove her wild to see how such simple gestures could reduce the fearsome warrior to a puddle, even now. Mor tucked herself into Emerie’s side, throwing her long legs over the armrest. It’s probably a good thing. If they could speak to each other like this, we’d never hear from them again.

Emerie laughed into Mor’s golden hair. 

Conversations rose and fell. Plates emptied and clicked as they were laid out on the coffee table.

It was a simple peace they welcomed with open arms. 

They didn’t hear the faintest thud coming from above their heads. 

You smiled when one of Azriel’s shadows wove themselves into your hair, tickling the sensitive skin behind your ear and along your neck. 

“Sorry,” Azriel whispered, trying and failing to draw them back to him for the nth time that day. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.” They’d been especially touchy as of late, nipping at your heels like a litter of puppies vying for attention or hiding in your pockets. It was a mixture of Azriel’s own feelings that spurred them on and their own desire to protect what they’d claimed as theirs. 

“It’s alright, Azriel. I like having them around.” 

They hummed amongst themselves, happy to see you so pleased. Sometimes, Azriel wondered if you’d be able to learn to listen to them as well. To tease apart that secret language he couldn’t begin to describe. 

Maybe you were listening to them now without even realizing it.

Maybe that’s why you and Azriel were the only ones whose eyes snapped towards the hallway before the first creak of wood sounded throughout the House.

The shuffling of a new, unfamiliar set of feet down the stairs had the hair on the back of your neck rising and crackling with energy.

It wasn’t Jurian. It wasn’t loud enough to be Jurian. He so rarely descended from the attic that he made a habit of making his presence known, tired feet shuffling along the rugged staircase with measured drags. 

You walked over to your brother and tugged on the back of his shirt. “Jurian—”

“That’s not Jurian.” Lucien said with bated breath. He was the third person in the room to hear the sound.

He’d checked on his friends less than a handful of hours ago. Jurian had been as he always was — weary but hopeful as one hand had clenched the bundle of morphine and the other had leaned against the food cart Lucien had carried up to the top floor. 

And Vassa… Vassa had been uncharacteristically quiet, slouching against the wall of her gilded cage, raw skin and thin feathers trembling with her haggard breath as she slept. 

“You should come down.” Lucien had said. “You deserve a break.” 

But Jurian had only shook his head and flashed a tight smile. “As much as I would love to bless you with my presence, I won’t leave her like this. But one day, my friend, we’ll both walk down those steps together and have a proper celebration. I promise you.” 

Vassa came down the steps. 

Alone. 

Naked.

Shivering.

You eyed the window where the mid-afternoon sun beat down on a frosted city. 

It was the middle of the day… and Vassa was human. 

You clutched Lucien’s arm, fingernails digging through his cotton shirt before he could take another step forward. Silence suffocated the room. There was something deeply wrong with the cursed queen. She trembled like a newborn fawn unceremoniously dumped into the world, her skin puckered and pock-marked from where she’d picked at old scabs and opened new wounds. The whole array hung from bones so thin they may as well have belonged to a bird. 

“Vassa…” Lucien’s voice broke on her name. 

A path of bloody feathers trailed behind her.

She grasped at strands of her fiery red hair and tugged. Hard. You focused all your energy on keeping the food in your stomach when strands fell through her bloody fingers and saliva rose in your mouth. 

“I’m so sorry, Lucien. I can’t… It won’t stop.” Her voice, which had once been beautiful, grated your ears. “My skin. It feels like I’m crawling out of it.” 

“Vassa.” Lucien held out his hands, showing her they were empty. “Where’s Jurian?” He would come down. He would help her in ways only he was capable of. 

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

“Where’s Jurian?”

At the second mention of her lover’s name, Vassa broke down crying. Fat, ugly tears streaking down tan cheeks that had turned sallow and grey. She wiped them away, fingers dripping. There was a deep, unyielding hunger evident in every stutter of her body as her eyes raked across the room. You flinched when those milky, teal eyes passed over you… and landed on Ione. 

Elderly, painfully human, Ione.

Vassa’s left eye twitched and Azriel had only enough time to tackle you to the ground and cover your body with his own before the mortal queen burst into flames.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

^^ Visual depiction of how I've felt the last week like what in the world? I'm getting enough sleep I swear but every morning I feel like I'm dragging a two ton boulder behind me until I get a sip of that bitter goodness. Ugh. Hope y'all are resting better than I am.

Anyways, I know it's been a while since I posted, but the chapter is here! Whoop! And I hope you enjoyed :) As always, feedback is appreciated and welcome if you have burning things you need to get off your chest (doesn't even have to be SSIB-related honestly my inbox is there).

[ataliagold]

trouble's always gonna find you baby, but so will i

For Whumptober prompt 10, I used "blow to the head" and "slurred words." Title from Western Nights by Ethel Cain.

Also on AO3.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1546

Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, whump, assault, injured steve, pistol-whipped, hospital, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Summary: Steve's found by some men looking to pass Al Munson's drug debt on to his son.

But he'll die before he gives Eddie up.

___

“You ready to talk?”

The man’s leaning close to Steve’s ear, rancid breath filling his nostrils, his fist caked in blood.

Steve’s blood.

Steve gasps for air, bats at the man’s wrist again, kicks out futilely. He receives a boot to his leg for his efforts, the second man grunting at the force he puts behind it.

His head’s swimming. Distantly, he wonders just how many concussions a person can take before their brain just sort of…leaks out their ears.

Surely he’s almost at the brain leaking stage by now.

Blood dribbles from his mouth, sticks to his teeth.

“Where’s Eddie Munson?” The first man growls.

Steve keeps his mouth shut. He’ll never give up Eddie, certainly not to these lowlifes, these associates of Al Munson looking to pass a drug debt onto the jailed man’s son.

He’ll die first.

When he says nothing, there’s the tell-tale click of a gun being cocked.

Steve really thinks he might actually die tonight.

If no one walks past this back alley, he’s toast.

Cold metal presses against his temple. Lucidity grips him for a moment, and Steve squirms in the grip of the two men, trembling all over.

“No…no, you can’t…I don’t know where he is, I don’t.” It’s a lie. It’s a fucking lie but he can’t.

“I ain’t fucking playing,” the man spits out, pressing the handgun harder against the side of Steve’s head. “You’ve got about five seconds before I decorate these walls with your brain, pretty boy.”

Steve swallows. He tastes rust and salt, coughs as it goes down. Heart hammering, ears ringing, fingers scrabbling at the hand fisted at his collar.

He’s going to die. Here, in the pitch black, in the dankest, dirtiest alleyway in Hawkins, where Jonathan had once beat him to a pulp while his friends looked on.

His tongue darts out over his lips. The barrel of the gun’s against his head still.

He thinks of Eddie.

Of cracked lips and gentle hands, long curls and pale skin that Steve loved to touch.

He’ll die before he gives him up.

In a moment of defiance, he locks eyes with his attacker.

The man curses, raises his hand, and whips the butt of the pistol across Steve’s face.

Steve’s head is slammed to the side at the force, his cheek immediately wet with blood where the skin parts.

“Last chance.” The man spits at the ground beside him, and then the gun’s lowered in front of Steve’s face again.

The world’s a blur in front of him. Steve blinks sluggishly, listens to his pulse pounding in his ears.

Eddie would be home from work by now. He’d be at the cabin by the lake, where he and Steve had been staying after…everything. They’d just wanted some peace in the wake of Vecna, away from the prying eyes of the Hawkins townsfolk, the ones that still blamed Eddie for everything that had happened to the town.

Steve was going to cook dinner for the two of them.

He’d been halfway through when he realized they didn’t have any butter, had driven back into town to buy some. It lay beside him now with the rest of the last-minute groceries he’d grabbed scattered on the filthy concrete. Even when he’d been jumped in the empty parking lot, he’d kept hold of his bag, too shocked to drop it until they’d slammed him up against the wall in the alleyway.

Eddie would be worried, he’d be wondering where Steve was, he’d come looking…

Steve hopes someone else finds him, after. Anyone but Eddie.

“Fuck you,” Steve slurs, with the last of his strength.

The man’s expression hardens.

Steve’s eyes drift close, and he waits for death.

Instead, there’s the wailing of a siren several blocks over.

The other man, the younger one who’d been sending the other nervous looks the whole time, lets go of Steve. He slumps sideways, lacking the strength to stay sitting upright.

“We gotta go,” the younger man urges.

“Nah, he’ll break,” the elder scoffs.

“That’s the fucking police.”

“They’re still a ways off. Probably doing something else.”

“I’m out, man.” The younger one backs away, turns on his heel, and runs.

The older man swears. The siren gets louder, and Steve thinks he can see red and blue lights in the distance, but maybe it’s just his injured brain firing on all cylinders.

“We’ll be back,” he hisses at Steve, kicks him one last time for good measure, and then he’s gone.

Steve sucks in a breath. Winces as everything hurts, his ribs and his stomach and his face all on fire.

He needs to move. Needs to get out to the road where someone might see him, because there’s no way he’s going to make it back to his car.

A whimper escapes from between clenched teeth as he braces against the wall.

He thinks of Eddie.

Shoves himself to his feet, one arm looped against his stomach protectively. His ribs crunch, and he knows there’s broken bone there, cracked under the onslaught of savage kicks the men had delivered to his sides.

It starts to rain.

And that, on top of everything else, has Steve almost breaking out into hysterical laughter. Because of course it’s fucking raining, just when he’d thought his night couldn’t get any worse. Rain mixes with the blood on his face, leaving watery streaks, and Steve slips and staggers his way across the concrete, past the butter turning to a damp mess, past the carton of eggs smashed across the ground.

Several times, he ends up on his knees, everything spinning.

But slowly, every inch of him screaming in agony, he makes it to the road.

There’s a patrol car up ahead, the siren cut now but the lights still flashing on the roof, reflecting off the rain falling.

Steve’s shirt is soaked through as he hobbles towards the car.

“Help,” he tries to call out, but it comes out as a croak, blood spilling out behind it.

He stumbles again, sobs, scrabbles against the concrete with ragged nails and forces himself upright again.

There’s a familiar figure in front of him, hauling some drunk guy to his feet, waving him away from a storefront.

Hopper.

Steve’s crying in relief now.

“Hop,” he rasps.

The chief turns. His eyes go wide, and he runs to Steve, catching him before he can fall again.

“Steve? What the hell happened?”

Steve’s mumbling into Hopper’s chest, he’s trying to tell him, but his tongue’s heavy in his mouth and his words are all merging together.

“In the car, come on,” Hopper’s telling him, guiding him to the passenger seat of the patrol car and easing him in.

Steve leans against the door, shivering, distantly aware of Hopper saying something, but then his eyes are falling closed and he slips into darkness.

*****

He wakes to a steady beep.

There’s a hand on his, warm and familiar.

He’d know it anywhere.

Slowly, he cracks open one eye, then the other.

Eddie’s beside him. He’s pale, bags under his eyes, his bottom lip gnawed to shit, but he perks up now.

“Stevie? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He squeezes Steve’s hand.

Steve goes to speak, but no sound escapes his raw throat. Instead, he nods, his head feeling heavy and stuffy.

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s crying.

Steve hates that he’s crying. Hates that he’s the reason for Eddie’s tears.

“Don’t cry,” Steve whispers, his throat rattling. He feels the unmistakable tug of stitches on his cheek when his mouth moves, feels tender skin stretch and flex under bruises.

Eddie only cries harder, scootching his chair closer, forehead finding Steve’s chest and resting there lightly.

“Hopper told me, he said he could barely make out what you said but he heard men, and drugs, and you said my name…Stevie, they wanted me, didn’t they?”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Steve slurs, “promise.”

“Baby, I don’t…I don’t care about that, I’m worried about you!” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, swipes at the tears across his face, before taking Steve’s hand again. “You’ve got two broken ribs, a serious concussion, and two lots of stitches in your head. You…you could’ve died.”

Steve’s feeling…fuzzy. He recognizes the warm, soupy sensation of painkillers pumping steadily through his veins, knows without them he’d probably be feeling a whole lot worse than he is now.

He reaches a hand up, paws at the air a couple of times before it finally settles where he wants it, on the back of Eddie’s head, soothing over his curls.

“S’ok,” he mumbles, “I’m ok. Gonna…gonna make you dinner. When I’m outta here. Promise.”

Eddie splays a hand across Steve’s stomach, tears soaking into the crisp white sheet on the hospital bed.

“No, you’re not,” Eddie tells him softly. “When you’re out of here, I’m going to look after you. Gonna make you your favourite meals, I’ll fucking…spoon feed you, I’m not letting you out of bed until you’re completely healed.”

“Sounds fun,” Steve drawls, halfway to sleep because Eddie’s here, he’s warm and his voice is soothing and he’s safe.

“I love you,” Eddie whispers, “so fucking much.”

“Love you too,” Steve slurs out, and then he’s asleep again, secure in Eddie’s arms.

___

[stoat-party]

Some Obscure Facts About Fallout 4 Companions*

*obscurity not guaranteed because this fandom is seven years old and i just got here

Preston loves swimming! He also loves vertibirds! How has the world not extinguished your joy yet Preston!

Cait is afraid of spiders. Given what the radiation did to everything else, I think I’m also preemptively afraid of Fallout’s spiders.

Curie is atheistic, or potentially agnostic. However, she does express concern about sinning (and has the default praying animation, like all humanoid characters).

Danse likes country-western and bluegrass music. Danse would hear Big Iron for the first time and cry.

Deacon is great with kids and uses them as informants. (This information is vitally important to me.)

Hancock’s parents are named Patrick and Martha. His brother’s name is Guy [mostly fanon]. (Additional info: Hancock refers to his father as “pop.”)

Several lines indicate that Nick is capable of drinking and maybe even tasting. He can also smell. Jury’s still out on how he can smoke, though.

Mama Murphy knitted Piper her scarf. (Semi-canon)

Strong has faint memories of the Institute, and they’re apparently very upsetting for him.

X6 and I are friends and I love him and someday he’ll forgive me.

Codsworth’s General Atomics warranty is apparently still active. Good thing his mum is a lawyer, I guess.

Okay, if you want a real X6 fact, he likes the cold.

MacCready started drinking when he was SIX. BABY BOY WHAT DO YOU MEAN, DO YOU RAISE YOUR CHILD THIS WAY

Link to sources

I made a Part 2!

[20dollarlolita]

It took me a while to realize this but one of the things that I love about lolita fashion is that the "EGL rules" that everyone loses their shit over are actually spelled out.

Growing up, I didn't get a new wardrobe every time fads changed and I didn't get trendy clothes from the outlets, so I was never online with the fashion. I was always "doing it wrong" and no one was ever willing to explain why the things I was wearing weren't cool or popular or not weird. There were rules of fashion in 6th grade, for sure, but no one was going to tell you what they are. No one will explain them to the weird kid who wants to understand it.

Once I was an adult with much more power to say, "I'm not comfortable with this, so I'm going somewhere else, and doing something else," I found an absolutely beautiful fashion, one in which, "so tell me what rules I'm breaking here, and tell me why this doesn't look right," is just a thing you can say.

No one's expecting the kids who cannot read a room to "just figure it out." It's just part of western egl culture: when someone says you're dressed wrong, it's their responsibility to articulate to you what's wrong and why.

"I don't like that EGL has rules," ignores that mainstream fashion also has rules, it's just that they're constantly changing rules that you're expected to pick up on your own.

And the rules of EGL aren't hard and fast. You're allowed to pick them up and play with them and build them into what you need, but they'e there to fall back on and get guidance from. You can look at a specific rule and say, "I'm going to accomplish this in <whatever> way, which may or may not be the conventional way," and still find freedom of self-expression.

But I cannot explain, as someone who can't "just figure out" why humans behave a certain way, can't learn social norms by doing things, and can't let go of the 6th grade frustration of finaly getting the cool shoes and then wearing the cool shoes and STILL NOT BEING COOL because I was wearing the cool shoes WRONG with the WRONG PANTS, boy fucking howdy do I like being part of a fashion where the rules are all clear.

[corroded-hellfire]

Scout's Honor - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my dearest @munson-blurbs

An As You Wish story

Summary: The annual Father-Daughter Girl Scout Square Dance comes around but Eddie and Steve are saddled with some car trouble.

Note: Everyone needs to go thank Bug for this incredibly adorable idea!

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Men. 

Can’t live with them, can’t…convince them not to go fishing on the day of their daughters’ Girl Scouts events. 

Eddie and Steve had promised you and Nancy that they would be home in time to take Eliza and Mia to the annual square dance. 

“We’ll get an early start,” they’d said, ignoring Eliza’s insistence that she won’t go with her father if he reeks of fish. He’d just laughed, kissed her cheek, and reiterated that he would shower before the dance. 

Maybe you’re naive for believing him. And yet, when the phone rang and Eddie’s sheepish voice explains that Steve’s car broke down—codeword for ‘we ran out of gas’—you’re wholly unsurprised. 

“I always made fun of Wayne for fishing.” Eddie muses, the payphone crackling as he exhales. “Called it an old man activity. This is what I get.”

You grit your teeth, hand clenched in a fist. “Just…get home,” you hiss, hanging up the receiver and massaging your temples. 

Who could have ever foreseen such an outcome?

While you’re stewing over the men’s incompetence, Mia remains levelheaded—just like her mother—and proposes a solution. “What if Luke and Ryan take us?”

Her suggestion is almost certainly rooted in her crush on your younger son, but it proves to be a worthwhile idea, nonetheless. Eliza’s face lights up, and before you know it, your five-year-old is dragging her brothers from their room. 

“Please?” She pouts sweetly, batting her doe eyes up at them. “Daddy and Uncle Steve can’t make it, and we can’t go all alone.” She lays it on thick, knowing full well she doesn’t have to—the boys would do just about anything for her. 

Ryan and Luke raid Eddie’s dresser drawers for flannels, finding the ones that he had nabbed from Wayne’s trailer. The girls don cowgirl hats, excitedly giggling as they climb into the back of the minivan. It’s still strange for you to see Ryan behind the wheel, but your heart swells with pride as you watch him double-check Eliza’s booster seat before pulling out of the driveway. 

At seventeen years old, Eddie Munson spent his Saturday nights selling cheap weed at high school parties—many of them, ironically, thrown by “King” Steve Harrington. 

At seventeen years old, Ryan Munson is spending his Saturday night taking his little sister and her best friend to the Girl Scouts square dance. 

“Everyone buckled?” He calls back, already knowing that they are. Still, he waits until he receives a chorus of yeses before he drives off. 

Luke turns around from the passenger seat. “Now, do we have to make a perfect square?” He keeps a serious expression, much to Ryan’s amusement. “Like, what if it’s a bit oval-y? Do we get kicked out? Do you two get banished from the Girl Scouts?”

Eliza and Mia are both used to his nonsense, and they burst into a fit of giggles. Ryan cracks a smile of his own, eyes trained on the road. 

Precious cargo and all that. 

When they arrive at the old VFW hall, the girls immediately pull them over to their group of friends. It’s a sea of young girls and their dads—and some moms—but nary a big brother in sight except for the two Munson boys. 

Ryan barely has time to feel out of place. The emcee, a middle-aged woman with bright pink lipstick and a too-wide smile, grabs the mic. 

“Welcome to our Father-Daughter Square Dance!” The room erupts into applause, quieting down only to hear about how this fundraiser supports the Girl Scouts of Indiana. The scouts repeat their pledge, which is met with more cheers, and then a western tune bleats over the old sound system. 

Eliza grabs Ryan’s hand as the emcee calls out instructions. Mia is a bit shyer with Luke, but they still manage all of the steps without stomping on the other’s toes. 

“Liza, I’m sorry Dad couldn’t make it,” Ryan says between songs. 

Eliza gives him a small smile. “That’s okay. It’s kinda cooler to bring my big brother.”

He grins. Just wait until his dad hears that. 

As everyone is getting into position for the next dance, a new song comes on that has more banjo than Luke has ever heard in his life. 

“Oh, yeah. We’re definitely in Indiana,” he says.

Mia chuckles as she peeks up at Luke from beneath the brim of her straw cowgirl hat. A blue ribbon on one of her red pigtail braids is loose so Luke reaches down to fix it for the little girl. Mia’s freckled face blooms as red as her hair. Luke pretends not to notice, not wanting to embarrass her. The big crush on Luke became obvious when she was three, and now at ten, it’s still hanging around. The fifteen-year-old Munson boy thinks it’s flattering and only ever teases her if she starts it first. 

“Ready?” Luke asks, offering Mia his hand.

“Ready!”

“But I didn't realize any of this until I was standing alone. In a barn... wife-less. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when it suddenly dawned on me that the woman I love is about to be kicked out of the country. So, Margaret. Marry me. Because I'd like to date you.”

Both you and Nancy hold your wine glasses, neither moving a muscle as you watch Ryan Reynolds catch up to Sandra Bullock in a New York City office building. An empty pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream sits between you on the couch, two green-smudged silver spoons resting inside. 

With the men out fishing, Ryan and Luke out with the two girls, and Natalie watching the rest of the kids over at the Harrington house, your place became the ultimate Mom’s Night In for you and Nancy. A chance to drink a little, gossip a little, have some snacks and watch some romcoms. 

Your peace has finally come to an end, however, when the front door bursts open and two men who reek of murky water, bug spray, and gasoline come barging in. 

“Jesus, Steve,” Nancy says, face pinching up at the foul odor wafting from your husbands. 

You wave a hand in front of your face as if that will make the smell dissipate any faster. 

“How were the fish?” you ask, turning your head away to give your nostrils a fighting chance.

“We caught a grand total of zero,” Steve says with a sigh, his black fishing boots looking comically misplaced on him. Neither of the men look natural in fishing gear. But when a guy from work offered Eddie the use of his boat for the day, he found he couldn’t turn it down. 

“Did you bring the fishing poles?” Nancy asks, sarcasm lining the amusement on her face.

Both men give her an annoyed side eye before Eddie looks around and takes a step towards you.

“Where are the girls?” he asks. 

“Ryan and Luke took them to the dance,” you tell him. “They should be back soon.”

Steve grimaces and claps a heavy hand down on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eliza’s gonna kill you.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and spins to meet his friend’s eye.

“And Mia won’t kill you?”

Steve grins. “Not if she got to dance with Luke.” This is the only time the man has ever been thankful for Mia’s crush on the Munson teen. 

Front door still open from when the men barged in, Ryan, Luke, Eliza, and Mia walk inside, laughing and talking over one another. Ryan is giving Eliza a piggyback ride and Luke has Mia’s too-small cowgirl hat perched on top of his head. The moment Eliza’s wide brown eyes spot her father, she demands answers. 

“Daddy, where were you?”

Ryan gently lets her down and she stomps over in her beige cowgirl boots, stopping right in front of Eddie. 

“Liza, I’m so sorry,” Eddie pleads. “Our car broke down. We tried everything we could to get back in time—”

Tears build up in Eliza’s eyes and Eddie feels his heart constrict in his chest. It might as well be Eliza’s little fist squeezing it.

“You were s’post to go with me!”

Eddie sighs and runs a ringed, smelly hand over his face. “I know. And I promise I’ll go next time. But I’m glad you got to bring your brothers. 

“Did you have fun at least?” Steve asks from behind him. 

Mia nods emphatically and both you and Nancy have to bite your lips to keep from smiling. 

Eliza nods in agreement, although not as enthusiastically as her friend. “Yeah. And Ryan is a good dancer.”

Luke smirks, and if Eddie were looking at him, he’d see the devious glint in his eye. “Not as good as Dad, I’m sure.”

Loud snickers come from you, Nancy, and Steve. Eddie’s jaw drops open as he looks around the room. 

“I can dance!”

“Yeah, Dad?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah!”

“Lucky for you, we’re all right here to witness it,” Luke says with a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “There’s no music. And I don’t really think my Metallica is easy to groove to.”

“We’ve got my Billy Joel—” you start.

“Or my *NSYNC!” Mia adds. 

“No,” Eddie says. “Thank you girls, but no.”

Smirk only growing larger, Luke pats his father on the shoulder. “Lucky for you, we’ve got just what you need.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow as he watches his son take a CD out of a Target bag he was conveniently hiding behind his back. 

“How was fishing, by the way?” Luke asks as he wrestles with the plastic engulfing the case.

“Pointless,” Steve says.

“Your uncle didn’t bring enough bait,” Eddie added. Steve is about to refute but Luke speaks before he gets the chance.

“But you would have, Dad? Does that make you a master baiter?” 

Ryan is the only one who is unable to contain his laughter. The joke goes over the girls’ heads, but you give your son a soft glare anyway. Never mind that you found it hilarious, just as you know the other adults did as well, but sometimes you’ve got to be the parent. 

Luke shrugs it off and pops the finally-freed CD into the stereo and the sound of a bow sawing over fiddle strings fills the room. Your second-oldest nods his head to Eliza.

“Go ahead, Lize. Show the old man how it’s done.”

“There’s not enough room to square dance in here,” Eddie says.

Without even so much as glancing at one another, you and Nancy get off of the couch and push it back, making plenty more space in the living room. The two of you smirk at one another and Nancy crosses her arms over her chest.

“Y’know, I don’t think it’s fair that you guys get to reap the benefits of your daughters being Girl Scouts without putting in the work.”

A grin grows on your face as you see where Nancy is going with this. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “maybe you don’t need more Samoas this year.”

Eddie’s face falls, and he looks at Steve, who shrugs in defeat. Gotta hit the guys where it hurts: food. 

“All right, show us the moves,” Steve says.

Mia grins, a bounce in her step as she takes Eliza’s smaller hand and walks to the middle of the floor. “Okay, me and Liza will be partners. Just watch us.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks between the two girls, one with now-messy twin red braids, and the other with a light brown cowgirl hat atop two curly pigtails. 

“Wait, if you two are dancing together, who are Eddie and I dancing with?” he asks. 

Eliza giggles. “Each other.”

“Nope,” Eddie replies. “No way.”

With an over dramatic sigh, you shrug your shoulders at your husband. “No dancing, no Samoas.”

“Damn those little coconut fuckers,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. “All right, big boy. But I get to be the guy.”

“Sure, we’ll play pretend,” Steve quips back. It’ll be a miracle if they both make it through the first dance alive.

Eliza and Mia begin to go through the motions, showing their fathers what to do. Everyone is laughing as they do-si-do and hook arms to swing each other around. 

“Did I earn my cookies yet?” Eddie asks once the next song ends.

“That’s up to your daughter,” you tell him with a shrug. 

Eddie looks at Eliza expectantly, the big puppy dog eyes that he passed down to her working their magic. 

“Almost, Daddy. You gotta dance with me first.”

“Now that, I can do.”