#Why haven't I figured it out until now?!!!

[moonlight-prose]

the spilling of seeds & the eating of hearts

a/n: so this was posted to patreon in december and well i haven't done any writing as of late. so this is me just shoving an old fic into the open. there really isn't any explanation other than i watched saltburn and churned this out. did it take a year to finish? yes. ignore that. it gave me such a hard fucking reset. the movie is so horny i had no choice but to write din as a professor on his knees. the image literally wouldn't leave my head. but anyways thanks barry i guess for resetting my brain so hard i blacked out and wrote professor porn.

summary: if he could crack open his ribs and let you eat the seeds of his heart he would. he'd bend to your will without question, without hesitation, because it was you. the person he hungered for. the love he craved. you were the pomegranate forbidden to him for so long, and finally he was given a taste.

word count: 4.2k+

pairing: din djarin x f!reader (professor au)

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, professor au, cannibalistic description of love, hades and persephone, the personification of hunger, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, wanting to drown in the pussy, din being tortured in the best way, they fuck nasty in this one people.

“I’m voracious for you.”

You could hear his voice even now, sitting in the middle of a room waiting for the accompanying professors in your department to deign you with their presence. The gruff rasp of his voice. The heaviness behind his words. They stuck cloyingly to the back of your throat as if he’d pressed them there with his tongue, smearing their meaning along your taste buds in the hopes that you’d understand his need.

The clock on the wall ticked away. Seconds, minutes, until you were ready to rip apart the mechanical springs and gears with your hands. Maybe then you’d be able to sit in silence. Process his words as they rolled around in your mind, pinging back and forth—dragging your attention to them each time.

“It never stops.”

Your teeth scraped against your bottom lip, tongue peeking out to wet the dry skin.

“This need.”

A trickle of heat spread between your thighs, spilling into your already soaked panties. You could practically picture him standing in front of you. His hands balled into fists so tight the skin of his knuckles turned pale; eyes darker than their normal chocolate brown. He looked like he was in pain, suffering from an agony you had caused—anguish that only you could get rid of.

A five minute conversation. That’s all he asked of you before you were due for your meeting. You figured he wanted to discuss the lecture he planned, the one you helped him with. Only for him to stand on the opposite side of the office, leaned against a desk, his hands gripping the edge. You were afraid it would break at one point. That is before he shared with you the thoughts that plagued his mind, the feeling he couldn’t claw out of his chest.

A quick glance at the clock told you waiting for them was pointless and that you’d be better off heading back to your office. Or at least attempt to stand without completely embarrassing yourself in the skirt you were wearing. His words continued to ring clear as a bell and you were addicted to their melody. You craved the essence of their cadence, how he looked unraveled at the thought of you.

“I feel like I’m going mad.”

The echo of your heels against the floor reverberated through you. Each step a different gunshot, inflicting a different wound. They reminded you of why the both of you stayed away from this temptation, why you chose to remain friendly all the while your insides were stained red. How long until everyone else saw that you were bleeding? How long until they noticed you were choking on it?

Your eyes snapped to the silver placard of his name at the front of his door. You almost laughed at the irony of them placing your offices across the hall from one another. As if you were meant to be tied together the moment you met. It didn’t help that you were completely taken by his grin that only pulled up half of his lips, the shine of his eyes as they caught sight of you for the first time.

The first time you stood in this spot you were nervous. For no other reason than it being your first day and you were one hundred percent sure the students would eat you for fucking breakfast. Having stage fright didn’t help.

Which led to him giving you tips, listening to your lessons when you needed help. Ultimately followed by dinners late at night, wine shared over jazz and blues and movies so old you could barely make out the picture at times. All of it was a recipe for disaster. A path that led nowhere else but here. But you had never laughed so hard, never felt so fucking alive before.

He’d woken up a part of you that hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in highschool. A bright light that still held an infinite amount of hopes and dreams and wondered if the world was actually scary…or if adults were just fucking with you.

Yet there you stood, hand raised to knock on his door, chest heaving with labored nervous breaths, and the realization that life was…terrifying.

But then the door swung open, his frazzled appearance showing before you, and suddenly life began to glow again. Just as it did before.

“I didn’t…” You dropped your hand, smoothing it against your skirt.

His eyes went wide, body straightening within seconds. “I was just coming to…”

“I’m sorry for leaving earlier. I didn’t mean–”

He stopped, allowing you to take a moment to gather your thoughts. It gave you a chance to finally see him like this. His hair was mussed, clothing in disarray. If you hadn’t been standing in this very office forty minutes ago you would have thought he’d been with someone. But the look in his eyes told you that was an impossibility; you’d driven him to the edge of breaking and he’d gladly go there again.

He stepped aside, holding the door open to let you pass by. A small shy grin appeared on his lips, prompting you forward—all in the hopes that you would take him up on his offer. The proximity of his warmth as you drew closer in order to enter nearly singed the hair off your arms. It was palpable enough to slice through, a burning flame that couldn’t be extinguished by mere words.

“Coffee?” he asked, running a hand through his hair to straighten himself up.

You found that you liked him better when he was messy.

“No thank you.” Unknowingly, you took the same spot as before, leaning against the edge of the table across from his desk. “I just came to sort out…what happened.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

“We’re faculty and it wouldn’t exactly be breaking the rules, but I don’t want to make this a difficult space to be in.” You felt his eyes on you, could practically see them darken as you continued to speak—the words stuttered and fragmented.

“Why would it be difficult?”

The question was layered with longing. A feeling that strained against your heart, threatening to rip you apart if you chose to keep going down this path. You wanted to tell him that it wouldn’t be, that you had no intentions of letting him go, but the thought of losing him—even as a friend—broke you in two.

It made you a promise of heartache, a contract of grief and you had no choice but to sign.

You unknowingly signed the second he began the conversation earlier.

“You know why–”

He took a step forward, prompting you to squeeze yourself back against the table. Even as he remained so far away.

“I’d like you to explain it to me.”

That flare of heat broke free again, a wild spirit out in the open and you were terrified of what it would do. What harm it would cause. He however seemed curious to see how far you’d go to reign in a feeling that was so right. A longing that had a cure. He’d been burning for you for so long, begging for you to quench his need, but now that he stood before you…it was clear that he’d been wrong. He wasn’t the one to burn; he wasn’t the one who would be begging.

“Professor–”

“Don’t.” He startled you with how fast he reached you in a few steps. His hand reached out, fingers curling around your chin to tilt your head up, to make you look at him. “Don’t lock me out.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you wouldn’t keep pushing.”

He huffed. “Didn’t you hear me earlier?” His hand slid to curve around the back of your neck, the other coming up to hold your cheek. “I’ve lost all my power. I lost it the second you smiled at me. You’re fucking eating me alive and I like it.”

Sucking in a breath, you watched with wide eyes as he slid down your body, until his knees connected with the floor. Brown eyes overflowing with a pained yearning looked up at you, hands filled with reverence now pressed to your hips as he prostrated himself for you. To him…you were the altar he would pray at. The goddess he’d offer himself to. If he could crack his ribs open and let you eat the seeds of his heart he would. He’d bend to your will without question, without hesitation.

“Devour me whole,” he murmured, eyes pleading to give him something to live for. “You’ve eaten my heart baby…” You gasped when he maneuvered your hand to his hair, prompting you to curl your fingers around the soft locks. “Do you like how it tastes?”

You felt like you were in a dream state, unable to wake up. Yet you weren’t sure you ever wanted to. He looked at you like you were the human embodiment of light, the thing that would satiate his ravenous hunger. With a soft grunt, his forehead fell to your stomach, fingers gripping your hips tight enough to leave the skin tender. And you tugged on his hair to hear that sound again, giving into his need because you had a hunger of your own.

“Yes,” you breathed, too afraid that you’d wake up from whatever this was. “I do.”

A pained sound was muffled into your stomach, his body shuddering as your words washed over him. Nothing could have prepared him for your admission, for the truth to finally be set free after holding it in for so long. Pressing a kiss to your waist, he felt your body shift, legs widening in stance to give him space to kneel—to prompt him forward. A silent plea for more. A need he was more than happy to appease.

Another kiss was pressed to your thigh as his hands slid down to grasp at the fabric of your skirt. Pulling it up inch by inch, dragging it out until your nails were scraping along his scalp. He kissed every part he could see, every new piece of skin that was revealed in the hopes of permanently etching the touch of his lips against the bare skin of your thigh. He wanted you to remember him.

“Beautiful,” he said softly, mouth parting when he finally revealed the black lace of your panties. A dark stain was prominent on the fabric and he felt his stomach drop.

“You’re so wet.”

Heat flushed through your cheeks at the raw depravity in his voice. The way he stared at you felt borderline obscene, but a flicker of power seeped through, blinding you. Your hand dug into his hair, nails scraping along his scalp until you saw the shiver go down his spine; his eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan breaking through the haze of lust he was under. And you wanted to hear more.

You wanted to watch him break at your feet. Watch as his lips formed around the prayer of your name—the promise of more than just this. There remained an unspoken bond between the two of you. A force that could have rivaled the power of Zeus's lightning and Poseidon's tidal waves. You were burned into his skin like a brand and he wore it with conviction.

"Din," you murmured, watching as his eyes slid up to yours, dark with lust. "Break me."

He growled a punched out fuck, his hands quickly ripping your underwear down your legs until they pooled at your ankles. Part of you expected him to rush through this. Make you finish as fast as he could. But his eyes were trained on the sight before him—how the lips of your cunt practically glistened in the lamplight of his office. How you dripped down your thighs from a simple conversation that happened earlier.

A conversation where he never got to touch you.

"That's for me." He didn't say it as a question, or even an insinuation. He spoke as if he'd always known this. A truth that was acknowledged long before you ended up in this situation.

You were his.

Through the haze of lust and depravity that swept through you, you heard yourself agree. The word yes slipping off your tongue, sweeter than honey and just as sticky. He could taste it in the air. The ache that ate at him with a hunger he’d never felt before. You made his body scream, his cock a mess in the suit pants pressed so neatly before seeing you like this—spread out and panting for his touch to continue past your thighs.

“Din,” you whimpered it softly, eyes fluttering at the feel of his mouth on your skin, and he felt desire burn through the nerves and tendons of each limb.

Yanking the skirt higher, he latched his teeth onto the tender flesh of your thigh, grinning like a wolf with a mouth coated in blood at your cry. Your body curled inwards, legs involuntarily spreading at the soft caress of his tongue. He could see the indent of his teeth. Ridged and deep and a bruising grip of starvation that would stick for days.

“Let me,” he muttered. “I need to.”

You gasped, eyes wrenching open to see his gaze latched onto the slick that coated your thighs with a sticky cream that made his mouth water. Nodding frantically, you felt the pull of his very essence drag you in. Molding you to take whatever form he craved. You were the clay he dipped his fingers into, the water he used to shape your body around his.

The hot slide of his tongue through your folds caused your knees to buckle—body leaning against the table with a heady wet sob of his name. He moaned into you, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers dug into your thighs—spreading you wide enough to encompass the width of his shoulders. Pleasure stung each nerve, slicing down your spine with a desperation that had your hips grinding down along his open mouth.

An insatiable need for more grasping onto the reigns of sense and reason.

“F-Fuck,” you moaned, unashamedly dragging your cunt across his wet and waiting mouth.

A cracked groan was all he offered in return. His lips sealing around your pulsing clit hard enough for your back to arch—nails digging into his scalp hard enough to rip out the soft curls you gripped. Spit smeared along your thighs, your slick pouring along the length of his throat. You wanted to lick it off, to push it back into his plush mouth and taste it off his tongue. Another harsh suck dragged a sharp cry of his name past your parted lips.

“Fuck I’m gonna–” Your eyes rolled back as he pressed a thick finger past your entrance, the pad of it curling along the tight grip of your walls. “Baby please.”

The shudder that ran down his spine at the ragged wailing plea nearly threw you over the edge. Brown eyes glazed with an unhinged fervor of a man starved met your half lidded ones. His gaze pierced right through your psyche—reading your thoughts as if they were tangible enough to flip through. And you let him.

You gave into the darkened glint that beckoned you towards bliss.

Another finger fit snugly beside his first, pressing up against the spongy patch you could barely reach on your own. Your mouth dropped open, a panting echo of his name spilling out into the air. It felt too much. A depth of sensations you’d never reached before. But you still held him close, fucking yourself against the mouth that promised you more—the tongue that traced your clit in letters forming a single three letter word.

Din.

The scrape of his teeth sent you over with a muffled shout—your hand slapping over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. Having a professor barge in to see if anything was awry would be too much for either of you to handle. It would ruin your reputation—dragging him down right along with you. You knew the consequences, knew the forbidden nature of this tantalizing fruit. Yet you bit into it anyways.

Din buried himself in you, eyes sliding shut as you soaked his awaiting mouth that sucked at your entrance with a throaty moan. A sound that wrapped tight around your spine—gripping where he couldn’t reach.

“Can’t fucking get enough,” he grunted, rising to his full height—fingers curling around your throat gently. “You taste good.”

His pupils were blown wide, devouring molton brown with a feral hunger you felt settle in your own veins. He wanted to consume you. Bind your soul to his without a single thought about the consequences this relationship would incur. The university would frown on their favorite professor entertaining the young new staff member who would happily fall to their knees for him.

The pink swipe of your tongue caught his attention, his eyes zeroing in on the wet slide of saliva you left behind. Gripping you tighter, he pulled you close with a rough groan—lips catching yours in a blistering kiss. It didn’t build slowly, unraveling months of tension, moments of unfathomable longing you could barely handle on your own. It scorched you to your very core. Laying waste to the stability you clung to, the sanity you relied on.

“I need you,” the words spilled into his open mouth—digging deep enough to rattle his bones. “Inside. I-I need–”

He shushed you gently, licking hotly along your bottom lip—his hands dropping to the brown leather belt you eyed earlier. The clink of the buckle destroyed you, a needy whine crawling up and out of your throat. This was your damning moment, the path split down the center and building something new. Smiling into the kiss, he shucked his pants down—cock straining against the boxers sporting a wet patch of precum.

“Up,” he demanded, tapping your thigh.

You clambered onto the table with his hands on your hips—legs spreading to accommodate his size. Pleading words lay on the tip of your tongue, but his mouth was quick to silence them. A kiss of reverence stole your breath while he freed himself with a gasp—pumping his leaking cock and sliding through your dripping folds. Coating his length with what already stained his chin.

With eyes closed and fingers lost in his curls, you gave yourself over to the sensory deprivation of the situation. Your hips canted up, clit catching on the prominent vein that throbbed with need. He pushed a moan along the back of your teeth, stretching your walls slow enough to draw you to the edge of madness.

“There’s no part of me–” The words were carried with a sharp breath and teeth scraping your ear. “That isn’t yours.”

Your walls fluttered at his words—in utter ruin from the sound of his soft rasp echoing sweetly in your ear. The pomegranate seeds lay delicately on your tongue, enticing you to close your jaws around their tart flavor. A permanent agreement of devotion stuck at the back of your throat as he pummeled into your cunt with broken grunts and soft moans. You swallowed them without a second thought, clinging to his back and muffling what sounds he drew out into his neck.

The thrust of him plunging into you felt exquisite. Each one sharp and hungry. He was a man uninhibited by the doubts that swirled in your mind. Possessed by need, held captive by your scent—your taste that still plagued his senses. You were inside his bones. A spell bound into the tendons and ligaments of his broad body to keep him tied to you permanently.

Forever bound by far more than you could comprehend at this moment.

“Yours,” you whimpered, feeling a tight grip on the back of your neck pull your head back slightly—lips finding yours as he pounded up into you. “‘S all yours Din. I’m yours.”

The muffled moan he pressed into your mouth echoed in your own chest. It said all that would go unsaid for now. The emotions you kept hidden in the casket of your heart, ready to die with them before revealing how much you longed for him. All the innocent glances, lingering touches, each time he showed up in your office for lunch or simply to walk you home.

You thought you buried it.

Never to be revived.

Until he poured himself into your lungs without mercy—consumed you with a smile coated in the thick shine of your release. He destroyed himself at your altar, pledged himself on his knees. Your lover, the other half of your misshapen heart.

“You want to cum?” he growled, grinding into you hard enough to have white flashing behind your tightly shut eyes. “Can feel you soaking me baby.”

Fighting for a lungful of air, you dared to meet his burning gaze. “Uh-huh.”

A smile curled along swollen and bruised lips. “She’s begging for it. My pretty girl’s all wet for me.”

Through the bliss you could hear it, the push and pull of his body against yours, his cock coated in your slick. It echoed loud enough to make your ears burn—your skin already hot to the touch as he dug his fingers wherever he could reach. You were dripping for him, making a mess on his slacks that would later stain, but he didn’t care. That was the last thing on his mind when he had you in his arms, mewling into his ear with pleading words of more.

The words were drowned out by the echo of skin against skin—a soft breath that punctured his chest. “I-I want to.” 

“I know,” he cooed, thumb digging into your bottom lip. “C’mon then baby. Soak me yeah? Give me a mess to clean up.”

Your mouth dropped, eyes rolling back into the mind he emptied with each punch to your walls—rubbing against heaven. Eventually in your life you knew you would break. Shatter like glass against concrete, but this felt as if every bone was fractured. Every nerve cauterized and muscle torn to shreds. You were left to float along the River Styx, the soul he stripped from your body now held in his grasp—kept as a memory of his emotions.

Sobbing a splintered version of his name, you trembled in his hold, his cock ramming into you with harsh bitten out grunts he muffled into the crook of your neck. Your walls clamped down, a splatter of your release coating the sticky skin of your inner thighs. He cried out as if you burned right down to his core—his fingers a bruising hold on your hips, teeth hooking into the tender flesh of your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spilling into you with a rumbling noise that sprouted from his chest.

“I didn’t–” Fighting the haze in your severed mind you felt his hand slide along your stomach, dropping low enough to slide through the mixture of your cum. “I’ve never…”

The audible echo of him sucking his fingers into his mouth with a moan cut off anything else you planned to say. Whatever explanation you hoped to conjure in a mind still coming back down vanished at the sight of him feasting on the mess he longed for. An offering of more to come now cooling on your shaky thighs.

“Delicious,” he murmured, scooping more and spreading it along the twitching clit still begging for attention. You gasped as he brought it to your tongue, letting you suckle it off with a whine. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Catching his gaze through your lashes, you let his fingers slip from the hot cavern of your mouth—the taste of him a craving you needed again. “In a bed next time.”

His cock stirred, large hands grasping your hips. “Next time huh?”

“I could be persuaded.”

Lips sought yours with a throaty call of your name. You dragged him closer—pressing your knees into his sides—and he came willingly. As if the tie that held you together knotted tighter the longer you basked in each other’s silent promises of more. Whether or not it would last was of no concern to you. His touch was gentle along your skin, tongue hot and coveted tangled with yours.

“Let me persuade you,” he breathed.

Catching his bottom lip with your teeth, you curled an arm around his neck. “You already have.”

“Interesting.” His grin felt electric against your cheek, a piece of him come back to life with the prospect of more. “I must have a gift.”

“Mm yes.” You met his smile with one of your own. “Your tongue is a skillful asset.”

“Just my tongue?”

“Well…”

Laughter shouldn’t have stolen your breath the way his did—deep and filled with a rasp you felt rocket down your spine. “Tonight?”

Suddenly what should have been a one off moment of sporadic lust grew to be much more. You knew coming here would result in something neither of you could take back. A vow unspoken between two people who shouldn’t want more, yet were unable to ask for anything less. He was tied to you from that first day—a brief greeting between two passing ships. It was only a matter of time until eventually…you collided.

“I’d really like that,” you admitted, sealing your fate in hot wax carved with his initials.

He kissed you slowly, drinking down the soft breathy moan that clawed up your throat—a future clasped between hearts that finally beat in tune. “I would too.”

[sinnabarmoth]

How would the guys react to us being like: “Well it seems like he’s obviously flirting with me, but that would be self-centered and vain of me to think, so I’ll just treat it as him being nice/teasing.”

Zayne: Zayne thinks you're just being professional, keeping that kind of distance as is expected of a doctor and his patient. It kinda hurts but he gets it. He just thought that there was something there that you had been exploring. So of course he is going to apologize for assuming anything. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my advances. I thought perhaps there was something between us and you've been so polite about turning me down."

"Wait, what? So you were flirting with me?!"

"Yes...? Was that not obvious?"

"Oh my god I thought I was reading too much into it and that you weren't into me!"

"That cannot be farther from the truth."

"I see..."

"So, dinner tonight?"

"Sure. Yeah. Great!"

Xavier: Xavier straight up does not notice that you are brushing off his advances and just assumes you're being shy or trying to take things slow. You are freaking out thinking that you're reading too much into what he says and does, meanwhile Xavier is scheduling when your next date is in his head. It isn't until you use the word "friend" instead of boyfriend that it clicks. "Hey, why did you tell them that I was your friend?"

"Because you are my friend."

"Well yes. But I'm much more than that, aren't I?"

"My best friend?"

"We've been dating for four months. I thought you'd start introducing me as your boyfriend by now."

"Dating?! Who said we were dating?"

"Haven't we?"

"You like me?"

"I've been dating you for four months. I think we're well past like, starlight."

Rafayel: Quietly seething. He is fairly obvious with his feelings and is a very touchy person so the fact that you don't seem to pick up on it kinda pisses him off. In his head is just a million questions. Why does she keep being so nice about my flirting? Why won't she flirt back? Am I bad at flirting? I'm literally lying on her lap! How much more obvious can I be? Finally has enough and just straight up asks if you like him or not. "Alright cutie, this was fun at first cause I thought you were playing hard to get but I can't go on like this. Do you like me like I like you? Yes or no?"

"What? Since when do you like me?"

Eye twitching. "I literally lay myself on top of you when we watch movies. Do you think I do that with all my friends?"

"Well you're always doing that kinda stuff. I thought I was being vain thinking that it meant something more."

"Please stand to be a little more vain in the future. I was scared that you didn't like me back."

"Sorry. I won't doubt again."

Sylus: Sylus knows immediately that you aren't taking his flirting to heart but instead of asking you about it, just decides to wait and see how long it takes for you to figure out he is into you. He keeps being more and more blatant about it as time goes on and finds it hilarious when you keep getting flustered and try to reason away more and more romantic scenarios. He's at a party with you, showing you off to everyone and telling people how long you've been together. "We're going on about two months now, would you say that's correct, kitten?"

"Two months...yeah?"

"You sound unsure."

"Wait. Are we dating?"

"I like to think so."

"So you have been flirting this entire time! I wasn't crazy!"

"Give the kitten a prize. She finally figured it out."

"I'd ask why you didn't say anything but I feel I already know the answer. You're an ass."

"And I'm yours. Now how about we leave early and I can give you your prize in privacy?"

[estellardreams]

"Come on! You're not losing to me today!"

"I know I won't!"

"Are you two noodle brains done with that game already?" Red cut in.

Mei paused, turning back to Red to respond, only for MK to mash the keys so hard her character got K.O'ed.

"MK!" she shrieked.

"Ha! You just got M.K.O'ed!" he cheered.

Red groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Okay, right! Red, you're gonna LOVE this! Come this way!" Mei took his hand and began to lead him towards the dance floor.

Suddenly, a huge gust of wind rushed into the building, the lights shattering and cutting out.

"GAH!"

"What the BRICK IS GOING ON HERE NOW?!" Red snapped, his hair bursting into flames, illuminating the area around him.

Mei paused, staring up at the looming fox-like figure above them, cloudy hair drifting in the breeze.

"Who... Who is that...?" MK asked, noticing them too.

"Well, whoever they are, they're ruining our day!"

"Calm down, fireball. I'm sure we can deal with this and then go back to playing around, okay?"

"Fine. I wanna deal with them, though." Red conjured up his fire and blasted up to the fox.

Mei drew out her dragon sword, and MK spun his staff before launching up into the air.

"HERE."

"COMES."

"TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO KIDS!!!"

The fox's hair shot out, grasping the three tightly. The three squirmed, trying to force themselves out of her grasp.

The fox then dropped them, dissipating into clouds as the lights returned to the arcade.

"Wh- Where'd they go?!" Red exclaimed.

"We gotta go after them!" Mei said.

The two bolted towards the door, only to stop. MK wasn't coming?

"MK?" she asked.

Mk winced, trying desperately to pick up his staff.

"Come on come on come on...! Please! Not again!" he pleaded.

"Okay, what the hell did that fox do to us? Cause if she took away our powers then-" Red muttered, only for Mei to immediately cover his mouth.

"Dragon girl! What gives?!" he yanked her hand down from his mouth.

Mei silently pointed to MK, his attention turning to him instead.

Mk grunted, still trying to pick up the staff. Tears filled the corner of his eyes in the struggle.

"Please... PLEASE!" he shrieked, his hair erupting into flames.

The three froze, MK immediately letting go of his staff.

"I-I... I didn't... What...?" he stared at himself, speechless.

Mei paused, reaching for the staff... She picked it up with ease, holding it tightly.

"Huh. So I got your powers... You got Red's, and Red has..." she turned to Red, just now realizing his hair had flopped into a dull ashy black.

"Mine."

"That's ridiculous! How could I have your powers?" Red questioned.

"It's the only thing that makes sense. Also your hair literally lost its spark." she said.

He frowned, brushing his hair out of his face. "Oh... I guess it did."

Mei tossed him her dragon sword, letting him catch it.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" he asked, pointing it at her. An energy dragon suddenly exploded from the sword, crashing in front of MK and Mei, sending the two flying directly into a bunch of balloons.

"Whoops."

"Woah! Cool!" Mei fell down from the balloons, spinning the staff around.

"This is super cool! Now c'mon, let's go catch that fox!" she cheered, bursting out of the arcade and leaping into the air using the staff.

"... Um. Should I tell her about my other powers before she freaks out?" MK asked.

"Probably should, noodle boy." Red said.

He sighed. "Okay... Play this casual until we can fix this, okay?"

"Fine. Not like we got a choice, anyway." Red grumbled.

The two ran after Mei, racing through the city as she pogo sticked over the rooftops using the staff.

"MK! Why haven't you done this before? It's awesome!"

"Mei! Get down from there! Please!" MK pleaded.

"Sorry! Can't hear you over me being so AWESOME!"

Red groaned. He stopped, spotting the fox watching over them in the corner.

"There she is!" he yelled.

Mei froze, face planting onto the concrete harshly. MK winced, struggling to climb up to the roof to help her up.

"You imbecile! She's getting away!" Red snapped.

"I'm trying to help Mei! You go after her!"

"With her powers that I don't know how to control? Absolutely not!"

Mk groaned. "Do I have to do everything myself?"

"No! Lemme handle it! I'm the Monkie Kid now!" Mei quickly said, spinning her staff around, only to smack herself in the head with it.

"Oww..."

"BOTH OF YOU NOODLE BRAINS GET DOWN HERE!" Red screamed.

Mk grabbed Mei and leapt off the roof, the two landing back down to the ground.

"And after that fox! See?" he pointed right to the cloud fox, who slipped out of sight.

"Heh. Alright..." MK cracked a confident smile.

"Here..."

"Comes..."

"TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO KIDS!!!"

The trio charged at the fox. Mei swung the staff, only for it to slam right into MK, knocking him out.

Red yelped, backing up a little. "Hey! Watch it!"

The cloud fox appeared right behind Red. He, in a panic, swung the dragon sword, accidentally causing the dragon spirit to shoot out and slam directly into him and Mei instead.

He stumbled back, shakily gripping the sword. The fox knocked him off balance and he was out like a light.

Mk groaned, slowly regaining his bearings. What the hell happened...?

He winced, leaning his head back. He paused, staring up at his staff and the dragon sword tied up above them.

He tried to stand up, only to notice he was tied up to a pole alongside Mei and Red Son.

"Psst..." he hissed.

"Huh... Wha..." Mei mumbled drowsily. She tensed up, fully snapping awake.

"Where are we?"

"I... I don't know. But we gotta... Get out... Of these stupid... Gah! Why are these ropes so thick?!" MK grunted, struggling to break out.

Mei paused. She suddenly had an idea, turning to him as much as she could.

"MK, you got Red's powers. You can burn the rope!"

"And potentially hurt you two? No way!"

"It's the only way!"

"Hate to say it... But the dragon girl's right." Red muttered, sitting up a bit more.

"Okay... Fine. How do I do that, then?" MK asked.

"Do what?"

"Y'know! Your fire! You can just... Turn it on whenever you want! I... I don't know how to do that."

Red paused, staring at MK nervously fidgeting. He sighed, leaning back a little.

"MK... I need you to focus on your anger towards anything. Anything at all. The fire responds the most through rage."

Mk glanced back at the ropes. He breathed, trying to concentrate. He winced, whining a little, desperately trying to do something.

He gasped, panting. "I... I can't... I'm sorry..."

"Of course you should be sorry, noodle brain!" Red snapped.

"Red! Why would you say that?!" Mei hissed.

"Because we're at a dead end! All because the noodle boy can't get a little upset!"

"I-I can get upset!" MK cut in.

"That's not gonna solve anything, you dimwit!"

"RED KNOCK IT OFF!"

"NO! MK NEEDS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY THAT WHAT HE'S DOING ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH!"

"RED!"

"IT'S NEVER GOOD ENOUGH! IT'LL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH! HE'LL NEVER BE GOOD E-"

"Stop. TALKING!" MK screamed, his hair and body exploding into flames, reducing the rope to ash in seconds.

He gasped, sitting up in shock. "I... D-did I-"

"And that's how you rile someone up." Red brushed his hands off.

"Wait, you didn't mean any of that?!"

"No! Of course not! I was just trying to rile you up!"

Mk stared at Red, then got up and promptly punched him in the arm.

"OW! I... I deserved that."

"Yes. But at least I got some words of 'encouragement'." he said through gritted teeth, climbing up the rope holding their weapons and burning the rope off of them.

"Okay. Now what?"

"Now... I tell you the truth." the fox reappeared.

"Granted... You three try not to kill me." she said.

MK's hands lit up on fire, only for Mei to yank him back.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for getting us into this mess!" Red yelled, charging at the fox.

He let a beam of pure energy fire from the sword, nearly striking the cloud fox as she dodged.

He stared at it, then turned to Mei, flabbergasted.

"THAT'S how this thing works? I just... Yell out and charge it up to activate it?"

"Yes! That's obvious in hindsight but YES!" Mei said.

"Okay, good! Cause I got a score to settle!" Red charged right at the fox, continuing to try and strike her.

"MK. How do I use your powers?" Mei asked.

"Believe in yourself... That's how Monkey King taught me."

"How does that help?!"

"Just do it!"

"Okay, uh..." Mei held onto the staff tightly, slamming it into the ground.

She was promptly launched into the air and slammed it into the fox, sending her crashing to the ground. Mei fell back, panting, a small smile on her face.

"Yes! Oh my gosh, that worked!"

"Now, to get this fixed..." Red grabbed the fox by the scruff, holding onto her.

"First off... Who are you?" he snarled.

"Yun Huyao. Nice to meet you!" she chirped.

"Huyao... I think I've heard that name before..." MK mumbled, turning away.

"And what did you do to us?" Red continued his interrogation.

"Swapped your powers. Temporarily." she smiled.

"Uh huh. And now you're gonna reverse this, right?" Mei cut in.

"Oh! Yun Huyao the Cloud Fox! She's the one who cursed the pilgrims in the past cause she wanted to be funny! But... That was a physical curse. And it lasted for two weeks!" MK exclaimed.

"Yeah, so... It lasts a week." Yun winced.

Red stared at the fox, deadpan. He let her go, groaned, and took the dragon sword.

"That's it. I'm done. I'm so done with hanging out with you two for the rest of my life!" he left the room.

"See you tomorrow, Red!" Mei waved goodbye.

"So, ah... Do I take over your job?" she asked.

"What? No!"

"Haha! Just messing with ya, MK!"

Okay okay okay. I have a concept. I have.. THOUGHTS. People have done all sorts of roleswaps. But what about the classic in universe power swap? Like something happens and MK, Mei and Red Son’s powers are all shifted to the left. Imagine the bonding potential as well as the shenanigans! Esp, if the power change is reflected in appearance somehow.

I love this idea!! The canon Traffic Light Trio is minding their own business one day, maybe they're showing Red Son the arcade or something, when suddenly a demon attacks them with some kind of artifact and all three of them get caught up in this big ZAP! When they come to, the demon is running off cackling.

Mei and Red Son are about to give chase but they stop when they realize MK isn't following behind. They look back and see him struggling with the staff. It's laying flat on the ground and he's practically having a panic attack because suddenly he can't lift it. Not even an inch! What's going on, did he loose his powers HOW COULD THAT BE HELP YOU GUYS!!! As he's freaking out, and Mei is going over to try and comfort him, she's quite startled when during a particularly frustrated shout, his whole head lights up on fire! There's a moment where all of them are just kind of shocked into silence, but then Mei is the first to put the pieces together and she excitedly goes for the staff and lifts it effortlessly.

Anyway, so now all three of them have to work together and teach each other about their own powers in order to defeat the demon who attacked them and go back to normal! This is difficult because MK is kind of nervous about his new fire powers, Mei is just generally not taking it seriously and not treating the awesome power she's been given with the gravitas it deserves, and Red Son is kind of bent out of shape over having someone else's ancestral power.. he liked his own family and powers just fine thank you and he doesn't want to use the Dragon Horse Girl's weird green dragon monster powers. It's definitely a struggle lol

[invisibleintrovertartist]

I knew they always reminded me of something...

[intramoon]

To be reborn, you have to die first.

[rassicas]

Thank God splatoon 3 didn't end up introducing a playable cuttlefish dlc like I feared last year (I honestly don't think we need more new playable species, would've been too sudden, my expectations were on the floor after rotm) but the cuttlefish visuals are still so suspicious to me. This hat has to be on purpose. That's absolutely not a fucking squid or octopus

And this is undeniably a cuttlefish (and the double fin shape resembles the hat)

Like how the lack of mammals in the splatoon world and ark Polaris was something suspicious in the previous games, and characters like marigold and Glen fiddler and lil judd are suspicious now.... It's way more subtle but I think this could be the splatoon team planting some seeds in case they decide to introduce cuttlefish as a separate species in the splatoon world. ill be keeping it in the back of my mind

[hurtingbuck]

things unsaid

[sysig]

Does this hurt? (Patreon)

Bonus:

I love surfacetable.txt <3

[flumet]

I have been practically eating up the bbc sherlock series these last few days. Just watched the last episode today (yeah most of season 4 kinda sucked imo... I'm not the biggest fan of some parts of season 3 either) so if anyone catches me out on the streets reblogging sherlock stuff...

Then yeah, I have indeed found a new hyper fixation

[syncogon]

2013 synco is THRILLED

jiaxiao dramatic parallel universe battle partner rescue movie like HELLO???

[keeps-ache]

i finally have to block a fandom tag bfhsv 💥

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

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[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Wrt localization, I can understand wanting to change let's say a joke if the context of the joke would be lost on people due to play on the language. But when someone changes the content of a story and characterization to the point where it's a completely different experience and then they have the audacity to say "have respect for the localizers. You support gg" or some nonsense in response to criticism, it's really disingenuous.

Not sure if you saw when I mentioned it before, but yeah. There are times when they have to make cultural changes (Pokemon did it with food to make more sense to the western audience!), change jokes that won't land in translation, etc. Those are reasonable changes that have to be made or the audience will just be confused/uninterested/disconnected.

Sometimes there are also jokes that in different cultures would be deemed inappropriate (like the sex joke aimed at Edelgard in the middle of the night - that makes sense that it was removed because western culture would've been largely uncomfortable with it). Age differences also account for this, in that what's seen as appropriate to a teen audience in JP is not necessarily considered appropriate in the west.

My viewpoint toward localization is that it should only be that. Everything else should be a faithful translation as much as is able, i.e. doesn't alter the message given in the original script. It doesn't matter if the content is from Japan, if it's a JRPG or what have you. If it was of French origin, I'd still say the same thing: that the messages and narrative of the French originating story should be handled faithfully and should be telling the same story/characterizations/etc to all audiences in any location.

Obviously in translation you can't make everything one to one or the sentences would sound off and/or broken. That's why you reword things to have the sentences structurally accurate in the translated language. Doing that, however, should not involve changing the meaning behind the sentence or trying to sell a different narrative. Doing that becomes a different story, even if only in bits and pieces. When a story nudges really fuckin' hard trying to tell you something that's wrong is right or that something right is wrong, but that narrative is only added into a loc and didn't already exist, it's a disrespect toward the writers and their original intention.

Even if, yes, the writers were very bias toward Edelgard (which they were as that was, again, confirmed in an interview), it didn't come at the cost of other characters. It didn't come at the cost of Rhea being worse, Dimitri being worse, or Claude being worse. It didn't come at the cost of her allies all being disgusted by their enemies that they were invading. They loved Edelgard when they were writing her, but they didn't make that cloud how they treated other characters (and while yes, the Nabateans get largely ignored in favor of focusing on Edelgard and such, it's not at the cost of their characterization or to make them seem worse).

Even if the loc heaps praise upon praise toward Edelgard and that doesn't harm the original intent, it's what they do to other characters that disrespects the original content. It would be like if they took FE10/RD and had Ike (who was actually just and a good person) spouting nonsense about Micaiah that just wasn't true, hyping up his allies to kill her because she Must Die.

Personally, I'm no Micaiah fan. She was one of my most hated characters in the franchise until Edelgard (and Berandetta) showed up. I still am not fond of Micaiah and she's still pretty low on the rung for me. That said, I would not enjoy a narrative where Ike wrongfully labeled her and her allies and provided his people (and the Laguz Alliance by extension) a false narrative about her. If those things about her were true I wouldn't care, but they wouldn't be. Why does that not work for Ike? Because it's not who he is as a character to say those things, and thus if he did, it means something is off.

The original has some ??? points about Edelgard that favor her/lift her up, but again, it's not doing harm to other characters. Yeah, we get the whole "they are the enemy" stuff from her side, but like... that's the point. If you team up with her, you're on her side and are seeing the story through her perspective, which makes her enemies, well, the enemies. They're viewed in a bad light on that one route.

But when you actually come into contact with the characters in question? It's not as bad as she makes it out to be. She, as the protagonist of her own story, makes other named characters and their ways of living sound very bad because she views them negatively, but we don't actually see what she claims if we personally come into contact with those characters.

What the loc does is have her say those things, understandably from her side, but then trash the characters' very characterization and personality to match her and her/her allies' opinions of them. The characters reflect her views with no pushback whatsoever, when it should be that the pushback is how those characters she talks about behave.

There should be a dissonance between her thoughts about them and who they truly are. It should make you question, "is this really right?". You should feel bad when you kill genuinely good people (like Sylvain. You shouldn't feel like he's some trash scumbag, but feel upset about his death and find yourself questioning why he had to die - not cheering for his death).

Point being, the loc changed that stuff because ??? I guess they wanted Edelgard to shine at her very absolute brightest, and the only way to do that was to harp on all the characters who opposed her. I don't understand why they would do that tbh (like I know the intent, i.e. making her look good, but I don't know why they went to such lengths to vilify her enemies and not just say hey, maybe she's wrong about these people but I'm still going to fight for her, if fighting for her is what you decided to do. The one idea I have is the final paragraphs of this post).

It just makes it feel a lot like purist culture, where if you've sided with her than they can't possibly let her be actually bad and do bad things. You've sided with her, so she simply cannot be a villain! It makes the loc team seem afraid of a concept of siding with the villains, feeling the need to change it because it's BaD to play a game/route where you do that. It feels like it's portraying the idea that if you do bad things in a video game, you condone those bad things irl.

Whether that was their thought process or not, that's exactly what it comes off as, and that since they loved Edelgard they couldn't portray her poorly unless there was no other option. In the times they do finally portray her poorly via other characters, there's always pushback in some form, like someone defending her, giving her the benefit of the doubt after everything she'd already done and still intended to do, or being sad about fighting/killing her. In the original that was still there, but the loc just added to it - just by doing a whole lot of damage to other characters in the process.

Meanwhile with Rhea, there's always negative pushback. If she does something good, there's a negative thought following her good actions. Obviously there isn't space for that to happen literally every single time, but when possible it's there. Again, this is another thing the loc amped up, and I can only guess it's because she's the head of the Church (and churches are viewed as the enemy in most JPRGs) and the main person Edelgard opposes (with no acknowledgement from the loc team, about why that is, being a bad thing).

It's like, the one time there's a game where the Church isn't actually the enemy, they... made it so that the loc reflected that the Church is still actually the enemy. Churches being the enemy are so common that it was intentionally used in the original script as a red herring. You think they're gonna be the big bads because they always are in JRPGs.

The point of that was meant to fulfill itself as a red herring, making you focus on them and scrutinize everything they said and did even heavier than you would anyone else. It makes everything Edelgard does get swept under the rug and causes the player not to notice until it's fastballed at you. That's why you end up fighting her and not the Church except if you're specifically on her route.

That was lost in loc, of course, and it got so overwhelmingly popular in the west (which I do believe is a reason they did it to begin with, i.e. made the Church the baddies by western viewpoint because the west apparently eats that shit right up) that Hopes catered most strongly toward the western audience, making the Church the big bads (who... don't even do anything wrong whatsoever in this game and hardly even exist to do so, but I can only guess they got largely ignored because they were so hated, and less positive interaction with them meant less worry of killing innocent people/more not caring about them as the enemy) of two routes out of three; not because that was the original script's intent, but because they just went with what was popular even if it went against their home game's intention. I was pretty unsurprised to find out this went over very badly with JP players.

In other words the loc was so widely understood as the true canon/intent of the story (despite its vast and drastic changes) that Hopes was crafted around the loc more than it was the original script. The loc of Houses altered so much that it changed the perception of the audience consuming it, so whether the JP writers are aware that that's why the game was consumed the way it was or not, they just knew a chunk of the western audience loved Edelgard and hated Rhea.

When I play a game I want the same story and experience that everyone has playing it. I don't want to understand it differently than it's meant to be understood and was understood in the region it was created in. If it's a dark and mature themed game, it should stay that way. It western audiences can't handle that, then the game shouldn't be played by them whether it comes out in the west or not.

If you can't handle the content of a video game, you shouldn't play it, plain and simple. No amount of "oh but I like this portion of it!" changes the overall narrative that you can't handle and/or don't like (and you wouldn't know you like a part of it if you didn't play it at all, which you did play it despite knowing it's largely not for you. If you didn't know but play it and find out, you put it down and move on). The game's messages should not be altered to fit purists or baby the players. If it needs to be edited that strongly to work in the west, my feeling on it is that it should not be released in the west.

If it is released, the story should not be altered to baby its audience. If people do play it despite that and can't handle it, it's their responsibility to stop playing it and not bitch at the people who released it (in any region) or bitch at the loc team for not changing anything (i.e. bitching that the loc team didn't change creative aspects of the story to fulfill another region's agenda).

Why does that happen though? Capitalism, quite frankly. Companies prefer the money added to their coffers than to keep the originality of a creative piece of art. They'll follow any political agenda that's popular, any social media agenda that's popular, etc, even if it means changing creativity.

They want the most people possible to purchase it, so if more people will buy the product, even if it means sullying the creative work of the original writers, they'll do it. That may not be true worldwide, but it absolutely is with many western companies. If the narrative of a game doesn't fit what western culture agrees with, they'll change it to make it so that western culture agrees with it (re: the Church).

Localization shouldn't exist to change a work of art/to change any media form for the sake of just releasing it in another region for the profit, but it does happen; hence why I prefer translation to loc. Over the years I've grown to hate western localization more and more.

If localizers have to work that badly to change what already exists (including changing the intent of the creator(s)), I have zero respect for their "efforts" for trying to alter a story and possibly even pursue a particular agenda (because we play games to have fun and enjoy something, not to have irl agendas thrown back in our faces).

Translators who go through loops upon loops to make sure the story stays as intact as possible with only changes of necessity are the ones I respect. Translating things to keep the meaning of a story is a lot more difficult and trying than just going "well how about we just completely change this and then we don't even have to think about how to work it out".

Also, there's a difference between pursuing an agenda or writing something to fix a glaring issue like racism. If there are aspects of a media that got changed in the west to eliminate racism (which is often, especially in Japan from my understanding based on other media I consume, done because of ignorance and not genuinely harmful intent), that's understandable.

That alone shouldn't alter a whole story though, and if it has to because the racism or whatever it is is that bad, then the work should simply not be released in the west! Simple as that! If it's that bad, why support those things by changing them to sound nicer/better and let the original product still generate revenue?

Now, is all localization this bad? No. Is Houses' localization bad enough that it changed an entire region's perception on the contents of the game? Yes. That's a no no for me.

I respect localization that does its best to keep the same story and change what won't work in another region (including what may be deemed unacceptable in said region or really toes a line of general regional discomfort).

I do not respect localization that sticks in the team's own biases or tries to push any kind of agenda to appeal to certain people. If a piece of creative media is created without the intention to push any kind of agenda, it should remain that way and not suddenly have things added to it for that purpose.

I respect creative media. I don't respect capitalism and changing content to cater to a specific subset of an audience, including the staff's own.

[sherbovania]

i'm workin on sami's lore post as we speak but i got a lot of miscellaneous and unorganized thoughts pertaining to her that absolutely do not belong anywhere except the Sapphic Brainworms Containment Zone (right here). also strategically posting this late into the night so the normans that follow me are less likely to see it (it is a tiny bit embarrassing sorry)

[bi-moonlight]

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[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

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