#YES IF I DO WRITE I SHOULD BE WORKING ON LIO

[fuckedupcleric]

Triggers

I love suffering, don't you? Inspired by this art by @sarathrwizard

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Donnie stared at the screen with a slack jaw, eyes glued to the You died! message that had popped up. His latest Minecraft build was absolutely destroyed. He could see the remains in the background of the death screen. He'd been almost finished! Just the last few bits of decoration had been left! And now… hours upon hours of work. Gone in an instant.

A long, frustrated groan escaped him and he tossed the controller to the side, prompting Leo to glance up from his phone and take in the words on the screen, as well.

“Wait,” Leo said. “What happened?” 

Donnie pursed his lips. “...Nothing.”

Leo smirked, putting away his phone and leaning closer. “Oooooh it’s embarrassing, isn’t it? Tell me. Tell meeeeeeeee.” 

Ugh. Here we go. “Drop it, Nardo.” 

“Come on, Don-Tron.” The amusement in his tone made Donnie cluck his tongue, and he pointedly ignored his brother. Leo leaned closer, practically draping himself across Donnie’s right side before he was irritably shoved away, only to start repeating “tell me” over and over, poking Donnie in his side with each utterance of the phrase. Donnie reached for his tech bo just to have something to squeeze that wasn’t Leo’s neck and shot him the nastiest look he could manage. It did nothing whatsoever to deter Leo, though, who was still smirking and poking and being an annoying goddamn menace. “Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, t-”

“Oh would you - Kassinove! Fine!” 

Leo sat back, giving Donnie a smile that somehow managed to look both completely innocent and infuriatingly smug at the same time. Donnie sighed and looked at the screen again. You died! still stared back at him. He shook his head, looking anywhere but at Leo, his mouth twisting into a grimace as a noticeable blush crept up his neck. “I was trying to fix the lighting system and… I placed down a block of TNT instead of a block of redstone… and…”

He glanced back at Leo, whose eyes widened. “Wait, so you killed yourself AND blew up your house? With your own TNT?”

“...I forgot it was in my hotbar.”

Leo was still for a moment, and then he burst into hysterical laughter, bending forward and clutching at his stomach. “PFFFFFFFT oh my GOD!”

Donnie just scowled, watching with growing self-consciousness as Leo continued to lose his absolute shit at what was apparently the funniest thing he'd heard all week. He waited for the laughter to die down, but each time he thought it would, Leo suddenly dissolved into renewed giggles once more. 

As the laughter dragged, on and on and on, Donnie found himself getting more and more annoyed. He'd put a lot of time and effort into this stupid build. Leo knew that - he'd been hanging out here a lot over the last two weeks, just chilling while Donnie worked, so he'd actually seen most of the progress in real-time. 

Donnie heaved an enormous sigh as Leo continued laughing, smacking his knee obnoxiously. 

Okay, enough. It wasn’t that funny.

Leo swiped a finger under his eye before wheezing out, “Donnie, that was so dumb of you!”

Donnie bristled, feeling the embarrassment and annoyance spill over. He let out a harsh breath, snarling, “Oh just- wipe that grin off your face!”

A sudden choking sound had ice shooting through Donnie's veins, his irritation instantly disappearing. Leo was still as stone, his expression of mirth replaced by wide-eyed terror. His eyes held a faraway look, and for a long, terrible moment it seemed like he couldn’t quite manage to inhale. 

Donnie felt his brows furrow. He reached out but left his hand hovering in the air between them, hesitant. “Leo?”

Leo didn’t answer, but he did finally start to breathe. Short, rasping breaths stuttered out of him, and he blinked rapidly a few times, clutching at the fabric of his hoodie over his chest. Leo was shaking, Donnie realized, and then Leo let out a high-pitched whine and Donnie started to panic.

“Leo, what’s wrong? How can I help?”

He still didn’t answer. 

Donnie clenched and unclenched his fists uselessly, floundering. Not wanting to make things worse and unsure what he could do to make things better. He didn’t know what was even - didn’t know what had - maybe a scan would tell him? - but when Donnie lowered his goggles, Leo jerked away from him so hard he fell onto the floor. Donnie watched, horrified, as Leo scrambled backward until his shell hit the wall hard, his eyes never leaving Donnie’s face. His entire body was trembling, little, terrified sounds slipping out of him that made Donnie’s chest tighten and his stomach drop, and now Donnie was really fucking panicking. 

He stood and took a step toward Leo, but that made Leo flinch violently again, his hand raising as if to shield himself and his shell making an unpleasant scraping noise as he pressed himself further against the wall. Donnie stayed still. Unsure and panicking and useless useless useless.

An agonized sound clawed out of Leo’s throat. There was a slight shake of his head, his eyes still glued to Donnie, before he started to whimper. “No, no, no. No, I - I escaped from - this isn’t - you’re not real, you’re not-”

A box popped up in the interface of his goggles, pulling Donnie’s focus. NO MEDICAL ANOMALIES IDENTIFIED. PHYSICAL SYMPTOMS CORRELATE WITH EMOTIONAL DISTRESS. PRIMARY CONCLUSION: PANIC ATTACK.

Fuck. Fuck. Okay. 

Donnie swallowed and licked his lips, thinking. Should he call Mikey or Raph? Would more people make it worse? What was he supposed to do? He pushed his goggles back up, still trying to think think think, and Leo’s babbling abruptly cut off. 

For a long moment, both brothers were frozen. Staring at one another. And then something in Leo’s eyes changed and he took in a sudden, shuddering breath before lowering his arm and clutching at his hoodie again with a trembling hand. He swiped his other hand across his face, and when it dropped he was no longer looking at Donnie. He stared at the floor, his face perfectly, completely blank, and the silence was so, so loud. 

Donnie wrung his hands and watched his twin, still afraid to advance. “Leo? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” he said flatly.

That was very much a fucking lie, but before Donnie could say anything Leo pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and stumbled out of the room. Donnie blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open and his brows furrowed. He watched Leo retreat until he disappeared around the corner, then pressed his lips into a thin line.

He should go after him. Right? He should… find out what the fuck just happened. And why. And whether it had happened before. 

Donnie sat down, twisting his fingers in his lap and trying to keep his breaths steady. He needed to go talk to Leo. He needed to go talk to Leo. He needed to go talk to Leo.

Why wasn’t he moving?

…Donnie would go to him. He would. He just… needed to do some research first. He needed to be prepared. In case it happened again. Just some research. Some preparation. And then they would… talk.

(Right?)

[ladylooch]

You, Me, and Mexico [Lucie x Connor] - Part 1

A/N: I mentioned this before, but want to re-iterate that this is basically a re-write of the beginning of Lucie and Connor's story. This happened because as I got to know the characters more, I didn't feel like what was written before accurately reflected their start. So here is a much hotter, achey, pining version of that story. ICYMI, you will want to check out this part first, which is mentioned in a few moments below.

Word Count: 5.1k

(Lucie)

The last time Lucie Hischer set foot in Mexico, she was ten years old. After that, family vacations revolved more around the Spanish and Italian areas of Europe. There was so much to explore within a short flight of their permanent home in Switzerland. 

Everything about this trip is going to be different. 

Starting with the sleeping hockey player on her left. 

Since Lucie and Connor separated on New Years, she hasn’t seen much of him or Lio. The Devils skid continued the next few weeks, but a long, West coast road trip helped them turn everything around. Her desperate arms had clawed Connor into a hug at the airport this morning when she met Lio and him at the security line for their Allstar retreat. Lucie has tons of assignments and school work she should be focusing on this week. Instead, she’s throwing it all out the window for some fun in the sun. Hopefully. 

Lucie glances to the left again, away from her book to Connor who sleeps with his big headphones covering his ears. His arms are crossed over his chest where he wears a dark grey sweatshirt. A well-worn Patriot’s hat sits on his head. His face is turned towards her so she can examine his features as the sunlight tries to collect on his lips from her window. His jaw flexes and he breathes heavily, almost like he might be dreaming. He looks so beautiful right now. Not even hot or sexy, just damn beautiful with his gorgeous and chiseled features. She’s almost disappointed that his closed lids hide those water, blue eyes from her.

Behind her, Lio taps her seat.

“Do you have chapstick?” He asks her, one eye peeking through the from her armrest.

“Yeah.” Lucie nods, rummaging round in her bag for it. She holds it behind her head for him to grab. A minute later, he is placing it back in her palm.

“Thanks. Hey, are you good to go to the beach tonight? Supposed to be a big party there. Lots to do. We are going to meet some of the other boys there.” A few other players Lio and Connor know from around the league are meeting up with them.

“Yeah. Sounds fun.” Lucie nods.

“Cool.” Lio leans back, leaving Lucie to go back to her book. 

However, she quickly  falls asleep, curled up in her seat, feet off the floor so her knees are basically a pillow. Her book falls down from her hand, collecting on Connor’s thigh.

“Luc.” She hears, then feels Connor’s hand slide around her ankle. He rubs his thumb across it, catching both her skin and her sock. He increases his pressure when she doesn’t respond. “Lucie, wake up.” His hand works it’s way up to hold her calf. His thumb presses into her muscle harder. Lucie slowly opens her eyes, looking at him with bleary brown orbs. “Hi.” He smiles sweetly at her. He moves his hand up to cup her cheek for a moment, then lets his hand fall. Lucie’s stomach does flip flops in her body. “We are landing soon.” He tells her. 

“Okay.” She mumbles, letting her legs fall back to the floor. Connor hands over her book, already placing the bookmark in it so she doesn’t lose her spot. She puts her shoes back on, then works her dilapidated hair out of it’s scrunchie. She works the long brown strands back into a fresher, more contained style. The entire time she can feel Connor’s eyes on her. “What?” She asks, then shrugs when he shakes his head, finally looking away.

Lucie frowns. She can’t help but feel frustrated that her and Connor had this big moment and distance has iced out whatever had been building between them. It’s like yes, he kissed her, multiple times, but it’s not like he has been texting her or interacting with her when he was on the road. Maybe what she thought was happening wasn’t. 

After a short and quiet cab ride, they reach their resort on the coast. They are greeted with sparkling water and limes, then check into their three separate rooms. Despite Lucie’s insistence on paying her own way, Lio paid for her entire trip, thus their rooms are right next to each other. Connor is on the same floor, but in the opposite direction.

“Let’s meet up in an hour?” Lio asks them both. Connor nods, then heads off to his room. 

Lucie disappears behind the door to her room after a wave to Lio, then immediately runs into her room to jump on the bed. She sighs happily, curling into the cloud like bed and it’s soft embrace of her. She doesn’t stay there long. She knows if she does, she will fall asleep again. So, she focuses on getting ready for the evening. She washes her face, then re-does her makeup into a night out shades and coverage. Her eyes are smokey and her lips are subtle. Her hair has started to wave up in the costal humidity, so she uses her Dyson to encourage the waves more.

From there, Lucie unpacks her suitcase. She dresses herself in forest green linen shorts and with a pale pink bralette and a white shirt. She spritz on two more pumps of her perfume and rubs her wrists together before dabbing them behind her ears. She knows how good she looks. If Connor isn’t going to look then she is sure others will be. 

After grabbing her crossbody purse and putting her sandals on, Lucie heads down to the lobby while sending a quick text to her parents that they made it to the resort. She sees Lio and Connor sipping margaritas in plastic cups with a few other men who must be hockey players. They’re all wearing different colors and patterns of tropical themes shirts. They should look dorky and unassuming, instead they draw attention from patrons all across the resort. She walks up to Lio’s left, avoiding Connor on his right. 

“Hey! This is Lucie, my cousin and entirely off limits.” Lio introduces her to the group. Lucie rolls her eyes. 

“Wow, what an introduction.” She purrs, extending her hand to the man on her left. “Hi, I’m Lucie, Lio’s very available cousin.”

“Nice to meet you.” He grins. He is entirely too blonde and skinny for her. The rest of them are all similar with various colors of hair and eyes. None of them are as big and filled out as Connor Wood. 

“Want something to drink?” The one who introduced himself as Brandt asks.

“I got it.” Connor insists. Lucie looks over at him, seeing his hard set jaw and lowered eyebrows. He doesn’t look thrilled. 

“I’ll go with you.” She offers. He extends a hand out to encouraging her to walk towards the bar in front of him.

“You shouldn’t of done that.” He says quietly from behind her.

“What?” She asks as they reach the outer loop of the bar.

“Told a group of hockey players that you’re open for business.” 

“Why?” She laughs as she scans her eyes over the menu. She is pretty sure she wants a margarita but it’s always good to look.

“Because they’re going to spend this entire trip trying to get a taste of you.”

“That bother you?”

“You know it does.” He rolls his eyes. “You and your little games. Always playing some angle.” He scoffs quietly, putting his forearms on the bar, eyes zeroing in on the bartender. Lucie snorts quietly, then licks her lips with frustration.

“Says the guy who kisses me once and thinks he owns me.”

“Nobody owns you, Lucie. No one ever will.” Annoyed fire dashes through Lucie’s chest.

“Are you going to keep pretending like our kiss never happened?” She demands, frustrated that it’s been brought up and he is flinging it away like a fly. He looks over at her, blue eyes smoldering her in place. 

“No. That’s the last thing I want to do. But we’re here with Lio. And a group of guys who are going to be falling all over themselves for a chance with you and your smart mouth.”

“Hey…. My mouth is more than just smart.” She smirks. She leans in, whispering in his ear. “You would die at the things it could do to you.” Her lips brush against the sleeve of his blue, tropical shirt. She puckers them, kissing his bicep gently as the bartender comes over.

“What can I get you?”

“A margarita. On the rocks. Make it extra salty on the rim.” She murmurs, not taking her eyes off Connor. 

“On my tab.” Connor says. “Room 561.”

“Yes sir.” The bartender responds, then heads off to mix up Lucie’s drink.

“You can’t say stuff like that to me, Luc.” Connor says to her, finally breaking their stare down.

“I can do whatever I want.” Connor inhales heavily, then drops his shoulders as he exhales. 

“Nothing has changed about Lio.” He reminds her.

“Sure, but everything has changed between us. And you did that. Don’t chicken out on me now, Woody.” 

“I’m not chickening out.”

“Then what are we doing?” He stares at her, eyes tracing over her face in a warm caress.

“We’re in Mexico, Lucie. That’s what we are doing.” 

The bartender sets Lucie’s drink on the bar top by her elbow, but it goes unacknowledged by her and Connor. Anxiousness and disappointment swirls in Lucie’s body. She was so hopeful that her and Connor would find themselves tangled up in each other. But his reserved look tells her that this week she really is going to be Lio’s unavailable cousin. Hurt bubbles up in her throat, so she stands up tall, shaking her hair over her shoulder.

“Well then. Have a fun trip.” She snaps at him, grabbing her margarita off the bar and heading back to the group. On the way, she sucks in two big, deep breaths to stop the stinging of her eyes.

She settles into her spot on Lio’s right while Connor slowly rejoins the group on Lio’s left. He is quiet, hands in his pockets, not laughing along with the rest of the boys as they razz on Sean. 

“Ready for the beach?” Lio eventually asks the group.

“Yeah, it should be about that time for the wet t-shirt contest.” Brandt says.

“What?” Lio’s eyebrows knock up excitedly. 

“Yeah. Hopefully the blonde from the pool is participating.” The boys all grin excitedly, except Connor.

Lucie walks perfectly in line with Lio to avoid any more discussion with Connor. Her chest feels bruised with anger and disappointment. Her brain swirls and she feels like clawing the skin off her lips so she doesn’t have a part of her that has touched him anymore. Why did he kiss her? Why did he open this door only to shut it in her face the next time he saw her? She thought he was good, nice, a gentleman. No, he’s like the rest of them- lying about what he can actually deliver.

Lucie slams the rest of her margarita, scanning the crowded beach. A DJ plays to the left on a big stage that has a bunch of people with arms in the air by them. People stand in groups, clumping together around a few high top tables. Some people wade through the water up to their knees. The group hits the bar again immediately. This time Lucie grabs two margaritas. Then they wander by a few carts selling amazing smelling food as they troll through the party, looking for their next adventure.

The group finds themselves close to a few more people their age. The gregarious hockey players immediately hit it off with a group of women. Connor engages Lio in conversation, leaving Lucie on her own for a few moments. This gives her plenty of time to down both of the cups in her hands. On her walk back to the group from the trash can, the tequila washes over her in a welcome, distorting heat. 

A little more North, people cheer drawing Lucie’s sporadic attention.

“What’s over there?” She asks Lio, trying to see but not being able to even on her tip toes. A few of the hockey boys have disappeared in that direction.

“It’s the wet t-shirt contest.”

“We should go.” Lucie grins. 

“No.” Lio shakes his head immediately, taking a sip of his drink.

“Lio doesn’t want to go see boobs?” Lucie scoffs then leans forward to put her hand on his forehead. “Someone call your mama! He’s dying!!!” She shoves his head. Then starts to walk towards the cheering.

“Lucie.” Lio groans.

“I know! I’m the worst! Making you go see tits for free.” Lucie giggles, turning to stick her tongue out at him while walking backwards. She accidentally bumps into someone, offering a sincere, drunk girl apology before continuing on.

Lucie reaches the outer edge of the crowd, looking up on the stage to see a handful of women in white t-shirts waiting for the contest to start. Lucie can’t really understand what’s going on, but pushes further into the crowd, losing Connor and Lio in the process. She can hear Lio’s half-assed call for her to come back. No. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near those two right now. 

And she knows exactly how to get away from them. 

She skirts through the crowd relatively easily. Everyone is drunk and focused on the stage. They don’t care for the random girl pushing forward to try to get up there. When she reaches the front, she scans for anyone who looks important. She sees a guy with a clipboard and grins, moving towards him.

“Hey!” She yells. He looks at her. “Can I get in on that?” He scans Lucie, then shrugs, nodding. 

“What’s one more?” He tells her. Lucie smiles back pleasantly like the Hischier she was taught to be, then allows a security guard to help her over the small fencing. She smooths down her shirt as she climbs the stairs to the stage. The MC stops mid-sentence.

“Do we have another contestant!? Excellent. Come here, honey. Tell us about yourself.”

“I’m Lucie and I’m from Switzerland.” She drawls out. The lights of the stage are bright so she can’t see out, but can hear.

“Lucie from Switzerland, are you ready to show us your tits?” Lucie laughs. 

“Sure.” She flirts back. 

“I love girls with daddy issues.” He jokes. Lucie’s smile falters a bit. She doesn’t have daddy issues… She just has listening issues. “Get in line, sweetheart.” 

Lucie complies, then looks to the contestant on her right.

“Hey, you probably want to take your bra off.” Lucie looks down at her bralette. 

Oh yeah. 

She shimmies off the straps then tucks it into the pocket of her shorts. She looks down, seeing the distinct point of her nipples already. She looks out towards the stage again, imagining Connor out there, watching her do this. A shivery thrill rolls down her spine. She swallows hard, seeing a handful of guys with buckets come out in front of them. She can hear ice swirling around in the plastic. She watches as one of them comes to stand directly in front of her. He smiles at Lucie and she feels a little claw of ick pinch her through her drunken, tequila haze.

Maybe she shouldn’t be doing….

Any other words she could think are slapped from her by the ice cold water hitting her chest. It splashes onto her face and legs too. Lucie and the rest of the contestants stumble back slightly. 

“Oh my god.” The girl next to her snaps. “That’s not how they did it in Florida.” She wipes at her eyes, careful not to smear her mascara. Her hair got wet too, causing it to flatten out immediately.

“Jesus Christ.” Lucie hears muttered to her left. She blinks the water out of her eyes, then watches Connor’s approach. She instinctively reaches for him as a source of safety. Connor stands in front of her, chest heaving as if he was running or working hard to get here. “Are you okay?” He asks her. Lucie nods, then looks away, embarrassed as hell that she got herself into this moment. When she looks back, she can see Connor staring at her pink nipples showing through her shirt. He forcefully removes his gaze, turning back to her face. “I’ve got you, okay?”

“Dude, move we can’t see her!!!”’ Someone yells from the crowd. When Connor stays planted in place, the guy starts to boo. Others follow suit until the whole, drunk crowd is booing at them both. 

“We want to see her boobs!” Another man yells. Connor scoffs, glaring over his shoulder. He shrugs his shirt off his shoulders and a loud female crowd starts to scream. 

“Damn man, you should have entered.” The MC laughs. The crowd cheers louder. Lucie’s cheeks burn red as Connor wraps the shirt round her, ignoring everything else except for her. He puts his arm over her shoulder, then walks her to the edge of the stage. “Guess Lucie from Switzerland is out.” 

The crowd moves on quickly, enjoying the sights of 10 other women with perky tits on display in front of them. Lucie shakes in Connor’s embrace as the wind whips against her wet clothing. She is soaked from her chin down to her mid-thighs. Beads of cold water trail down her legs, dripping off her heels. The couple comes up on the group they came with. Lio is flaming pissed. Lucie can practically see the steam blowing the top of his head off. 

“I’ve got her, Lee.” Connor says as he pushes past, not even bringing them further into their group. 

“Lucie, go to bed and sober up. I better not see you on this beach again tonight!” Lio snaps. She can hear the disgust in his voice, but when she looks at him, he has his arm around two women. 

“You’re one to talk, asshole.” She calls back to him, rolling her eyes. He can fuck off with his misogynistic treatment of women. He’s going to rail two girls tonight but she can’t participate in a wet t-shirt contest? Or fuck any of the boys they came here with? Seems fair. 

All Lucie can think about as Connor maneuvers her towards her room is that she wishes she was anywhere but here.

- - -

(Connor)

When Connor saw Lucie on that stage, he blacked out. He didn’t think about anything else but the fact that he has had a hard on for this beautiful woman for months, and now a hundred other strangers were going to see her perky breasts before he does. He didn’t think about how he was going to get her down, or how he was going to shield her and bring her to a safe place. It just happened.

But that’s what Lucie Hischier does to him. Everything just happens. Whether he wants it to or not. Now she is curled into his side, clutching the waistband of his shorts as she shivers slightly in the cool, beach breeze. 

Since that cold water hit her body, Connor has been alternating between being angry and turned on. Why doesn’t she listen? Why does she always insist on pushing the limits between them and with everyone in her life who cares about her? What is she running from? What is she doing by throwing caution to the wind like that? Doesn’t she understand that people only want to protect her? No. Because she’s too busy chasing the thrill.

He has a thrill she can chase. It’s hard and thick and will shut her damn mouth up if she ever wants it. Connor shakes his head, leading Lucie into the elevator. Fuck, he needs to stop thinking like that or his dick is never going to soften tonight. But really, Connor knows it won’t until he gets back to his room and strokes one out. He has no chance of a cold shower helping this. Not with the eyeful of her nipples he got on that stage. He about fell to his knees to kiss them there, in front of Lio and the boys too. 

“Do you have your key?”

“Yeah.” Lucie fumbles around in her pocket, handing over the thin card to him. He knows what room she is in, guiding her there after they step off the elevator. “Connor, I’m sorry. I…” She trails off, looking up at him with sad brown eyes.

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head. “Lio’s being an asshole. You’re allowed to…” He widens his eyes, shaking his head again. “Have fun.” He ends with a smirk. Lucie stands in place, looking at him for a moment as he holds her door open for her to go inside. 

“You should go in and make sure my room is safe…” She suggests. Connor can tell nothing about that request is innocent. But still, his feet enter her room. He makes a big show of looking around, even behind the glass shower door and in the small wardrobe. All he finds are her clothes.

“All clear.” He murmurs, turning back to her. She stands there with her bottom lip tucked in her mouth, brown eyes doey and seductive. And he knows he is so fucked.

“You can look here too.” Lucie huskily whispers, letting his shirt fall away from her breasts so he can see her still soaked through t-shirt. Connor’s jaw clenches as his eyes stay on her face. Slowly, she peels his shirt off her body that’s now wet from being connected to hers. It drops in a pool at her feet. Lucie’s arms drop to her sides, allowing him to see her fully.  “What do you think, Connor?”

“I think you’re drunk, Luc.” His hands ball into fists beside his thighs trying not to reach for her.

“Is that why I’m wondering what they would feel like in big hands.” She drawls at him.

The change in the tone of her voice has Connor’s eyes slipping. When he takes his peek, he almost falls to his knees at how beautiful she is. Connor inhales heavily, cock twitching in his shorts as he traces the pink circles. He can see the texture of them through the wet fabric. His tongue gets heavy in his mouth, wanting to trace them for textural memory too. His lips part, blue eyes staying there as if he is painting them for his long-term memory. He steps forward, then trolls his eyes back up to her face. Desire swallows her brown eyes, reaching out to make his skin burn like wildfire everywhere they touch. He licks his lips, stopping in front of her.

“You still look cold, sweetheart. You need someone to warm those up?” Connor leans down, hovering over her face, lips mere inches away.

“I don’t need someone. I need you.” 

Liquid lust rushes through Connor’s body. He doesn’t have a shot in hell of holding himself back. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close so he can lift her into his arms. Lucie gasps in surprise, then brings her lips over his.

“Kiss me.” She demands. Connor smiles. This girl always knows exactly what she wants.

“I’ll kiss you when I’m ready. First, I wanna look at you.” He murmurs.

He sits down on the bed with her in his arms. They work together to get Lucie straddling his lap. Her wet breasts are directly below his chin, but his eyes stay on hers. Lucie rolls her hips into his lap, letting out a breathy, needy sigh as she feels his stiffness connect with her clothed core. 

“Please Connor.”

That will get him. His big hand comes to the back of her neck, tugging her lips to his. Fireworks explode inside of him, and maybe outside, he can’t tell, but she tastes and feels like the best thing he’s ever had in his life. Connor groans against her mouth. His hands wrap around her higher now, covering her ribs on either side of her abdomen, thumbs brushing almost where they both needs him.

Lucie gasping against his mouth when his thumbs stroke around her tight peaks once, ignoring their center. His cock jolts, oozing into his boxer briefs. Fuck, he has barely touched her and he could cum right now. She circles her hips into him. Connor feels the plumpness of the underside of her breasts on his lazy trail down to her hips. He squeezes her tighter to hold her down on him firmly.

“Please, Connor. Please fuck me.”

He pulls back to look at her. She is wild under his hands. He has never, ever needed someone as bad as he needs Lucie Hischier right now. She watches him come closer. He drops his mouth down to the thin, still wet cotton and sucks her nipple into his mouth. Lucie’s hand crawls into his hair. She moans his name. Connor closes his eyes in ecstasy trying not to combust in his pants with her building friction rubbing her clothed pussy along his cock in sync with his suckles. Fuck, she is so needy. She would be like putty in his hands tonight, twisting and turning her every which way. Once wouldn’t be enough. He’d need her at least three times to get this painful twist out of his balls. 

He pulls away again, shoving the fabric out of the way to get her bare flesh into his mouth. She squirms under his hands. He wants to lick her up and lay her flat on her back on this bed. Fuck her well into the morning and do all the things he’s been imagining with her. He can feel the heat from her seeping through her damp shorts. His fingers itch to move down, feel how wet he is making her compared to the water from the contest. He sets his fingers on the waistband of her shorts, then something makes him pause.

This isn’t a hook up. Or some random girl he met on the beach. This is Lucie. Lio’s cousin, Connor’s best friend, and he came up here to make sure she made it safely. Not take advantage of a drunk, Swiss hockey princess. When he takes her, and he knows he will, it isn’t going to be here, in the room next to her cousin where he is trying to get two women back to his bed.

Connor falls back with a pop of his lips as her breast falls out of his mouth. He looks at her blown pupils, swollen lips from his kiss, and as bad as his balls ache to release he knows they are done for the night. Gently, he cups her face.

“Not like this, Luc.”

Connor watches the excitement drain from Lucie’s eyes. They dull instantly. He sighs, rubbing his thumb into her hip. She begins to clam up in his arms, muscles going from loose and languid to ridging in seconds.  She moves to get off him and he can see what’s happening. 

“Luc.”

“Let me go please.” He does immediately, watching as she turns back towards the front of the room heading to where the bathroom is.

“I want to so much. More than I can even say.” He calls to her. Fuck, why is she so upset with him? He’s only trying to respect her and their relationships with Lio.

“Yep. Sure. It’s all good. Have a good night.” She calls as she goes into her bathroom. The door shuts with a definitive click. Connor collapses inward on himself. He looks towards the ceiling, closing his eyes. Why does he have to be a good guy? Why can’t he be more like Lio and just fuck her for his own personal pleasure and not care about anything else?

Connor runs a hand through his hair, sighing. He hears the water turn on in the shower. Knowing Lucie is naked in the next room, water dripping down her beautiful body, does nothing for the hard lump under his zipper. He adjusts himself, trying to focus on other things like Herbies or being yelled at by his dad. 

Maybe he should have left once she got in the shower, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stays on her bed until she comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. It’s clear she thought he left. But there he is, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together in front of him as he leans forward, ready to clear the air that staled when they pulled apart.

“I want to fuck you so bad right now.” He says immediately.“Want to peel off that towel. Kiss all over your sexy body. Want to mark you in places I can see tomorrow in your little bikini that I know you’ll be messing with in front of me on purpose. I want to grab handfuls of your ass while you ride me. You like to ride cock don’t you, baby? You’d love mine. Big and thick. Would split you open the way you’re begging for tonight.”

Lucie clutches the towel tighter over her chest, mouth dropping slightly open and she begins to breathe heavily.

“But the first time I have you is not going to be in some Mexican resort with your cousin banging two random chicks next door while you’re drunk off tequila and the high of disobeying. You deserve better. What we are going to be deserves better.” He stands up, reaching out for her, not wanting to cross a line if she is going to tell him to go to hell.

“Now come here and properly kiss me goodnight.”

Lucie’s bare feet shuffle quietly over the carpet. Then she collapses into his chest. He cradles her there, inhaling her freshly shampooed scalp. He rubs her bare back above the towel, then kisses the top of her head. She tilts her face up, letting him kiss her. It’s a soft kiss. Nothing like the ones they had been sharing before this. It aches with tenderness and a deep appreciation of each other.

“Thank you for saving me. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Probably not.” He agrees. “We’re okay?” Lucie drops her gaze to his bare chest.

“Yeah. Thank you for staying… to tell me that. It helps. Um, I don’t want anything bad to happen between us. But tonight, I just…. Forgot.”

“Trust me, I did too.” He nods. “You make me wanna forget it all.” 

“But that’s not who you are.” Lucie nods. His heart warms at the way she sees that in him.

Connor leans down to give her one more kiss, then threads their fingers together so they can walk to her door. Lucie kisses his tricep as they come to stop by the door.

“Goodnight.” He says to her. 

“Goodnight.” She responds quietly. “Dream of me?” She asks him innocently. 

“Only you.” He murmurs, then kisses her quickly before heading down towards his room. 

Read more Lucie and Connor here.

[starsfic]

Wolf encounters a cured Margot for the first time and finds herself having conflicted feelings on what happened to Margot.

The mission was simple.

“We think we’ve developed a full cure for Emilia’s antimutagen,” Song had said, her voice steady and strong in the hall. Kipo sat in the center of the council table, her smile full of pride for her parents. “It is still under development, but we are ready to begin testing on those cured.”

“We know that doesn’t sound the most confident,” Lio said, handing a clipboard. “But we simply ask for your belief. If you would like to write down your loved one’s names for the first round of mutation, go ahead.”

Wolf, standing at the back of the room, couldn’t help her own smile. It had taken a year or two, enough time that Las Vistas was almost fully rebuilt from the passage of time and Scar… Hugo’s attempted coronation, but this was a big step. The clipboard was handed to Billions and the white-coated wolf paused. He looked down the list before sighing. “I believe in my own work.” he said, writing down the other Billions’ name.

That wasn’t what made Wolf shudder as unease crawled down her spine. It was the thought of another wolf, the whimpers they heard

She raised her hand.

“What about the loose cured?”

Molly looked up from her position at the table and raised a brow. “What?”

“Some of the cured ran into the woods.” She could still feel the ropes tight around her and the furious beating of her heart as Emilia loaded the crossbow. There had been a yelp and a whimper- Wolf blinked the tears out of her eyes to face the council. “We should round them up first so they aren’t left behind.”

Kipo’s face had narrowed. Not in anger, no. Kipo had only gotten truly angry with Emilia. It was concern that made those purple eyes lock with hers. Wolf tried for a smile. It wasn’t convincing enough to make her sister look away though.

“Wolf is right,” someone else said. Wolf didn’t blink. Neither did Kipo. “...in the burrows we made small traps for the stray cats that managed to come down into the burrows. We could make something like those?”

Stare.

“Would they be safe?”

Stare.

“Probably, with some testing.”

Stare.

“Miss Oak?”

Blink.

Kipo looked away to look at the speaker. One of Lio and Song’s old coworkers, it looked. “Yeah. Make some prototypes and do tests.”

Wolf left before Kipo could chase her.

-_-

Wolf wasn’t part of the group making, testing, or setting the traps. She was part of the group who volunteered to check them twice a day. Kipo couldn’t protest that- as much as they all hated to admit it, Wolf was the most experienced in the woods.

The first day was a bust. The next visit, nothing but a rat. “Give it time,” one of the other volunteers said when they noticed her put-out expression. “They’ve might’ve migrated further, but there’s not a lot of prey.”

“Yeah…”

The third day, during the evening check, was when it happened.

Wolf stalked through the forest as though she was back to being a loner, her flashlight on the lowest setting. Too much noise and light, they learned when getting the rat, would work the poor cured up. Better to be quiet.

They had found Rupert in one of the cages. Wolf could’ve recognized him anywhere. He was skinnier now and had been gulping down the meat as though it was his last meal. Footprints had led away from the cage. Rupert had been caught but Margot had escaped.

Her flashlight fell upon a glint of steel and white fur.

…for that moment.

Margot had always been full of life. She had a fierceness around her that Wolf had been awed by when she still went by her old name. Margot, without a word of protest, had taken Wolf under her wing and protected her. She was fierce but playful predator and protector.

Who would have guessed that predator would turn against her?

Who would have guessed that was all she was now?

Wolf sighed, kneeling next to the cage. “You were strong enough for us both.” Margot stared steadily back, her eyes empty of that life. They were still alive, yes, but they weren’t…awake. Awake was the best word. Honestly, she looked worn out. “I wished I could’ve been stronger before we fought.”

Wolf straightened before she could say another word and held up a hand. Another volunteer waved back and soon the others were loading Margot up with Rupert.

Her eyes never left her.

-_-

“So, what’s the plan?”

The room that the window looked into looked like a cave. It was very simple set piecing and coloring, but it seemed to be enough for their two guests. Margot and Rupert sat together, batting each other in calm play fighting.

“Well, we were thinking that these two should be in the first round of curing,” Song said, making a note on her clipboard. Wolf glanced over her shoulder and had to look away. In science, Song and Lio’s handwritings both looked like chicken scratch. “I’m not much of a zoologist, but their behavior seems to be bonded. If we tried to do one and then the other, I don’t think either of them will handle it well.”

Margot would be back, then.

“The issue with that is that I can’t think of anyone to support them.” Song tapped her pen against the clipboard, eyes studying the siblings with an intensity that Wolf had seen on Kipo’s face before. “I think that someone should be there with every cured to explain what happened, but I can’t think of anyone to be with them.”

There were other wolves. But the Newton Wolves had been a rival pack to the family. Plus Billions would be busy with his brother.

Wolf opened her mouth.

"...I'll do it."

[the-lost-lights]

Beast Wars: More than Meets the Eye AU REBOOT: Part 1

Introduction

A long, long, LOOOOOOOONG time ago, I made an anonymous ask to @yes-i-write-fanfiction​ about an idea I had: what it there was a version of the Transformers comic Transformers: More than Meets the Eye with Beast Wars characters? I began working on it and soon, and with some help of yes-i-write-fanfiction, I made some profiles for the characters.

Despite my objective was to make all the profiles for an hypotetical “first season” of the comic, a variety of events caused me to give up the project.

Until now.

I’m going to give this project a second shot, rewriting everything and making it bigger and better than before (hopefully).

Wish me luck!

Story

The war against the Vehicons is over.

Optimus Primal, the heroic leader of the Maximals and the resistance, has defeated Megatron, stopping the Vehicon plague, healing everyone infected by it and turning the planet Cybertron into techno-organic paradise, at the cost of his life.

Despite the galaxy is now in peace, many tensions remain, making the hard-hearned peace fragile: the NAILs, led by Terrorsaur (that is unhappily sharing his body with Starscream) want that all Maximals and Predacons should not be allowed back on the planet after having caused the war, some alien civilizations accused the Transformers of having intentionally released the Vehicon virus and the Matrix of Leadership hasn’t been passed yet.

Cheetor, who became during the war the second in command of the Maximals, decided to try to open it because he showed multiple times the potential to become the next Prime, but during the public cerimony something unexpected happened: despite managing to open it, the Matrix rejeted Cheetor and merged with his best friend Lio Convoy, turning him into Lio Prime. Before anyone could react, the supercomputer known as the Oracle announced that Lio was going to be the last Prime and disappeared, causing chaos all over the planet.

Confused and in need of answers, Cheetor searched everywhere the Oracle and when he finally found it he asked why he wasn’t chosen and why lio was going to be the last Prime. The Oracle simply told him to search for the legendary Covenant, a group of twelve legendary knights created by Primus long before the birth of the first Transformers, and showed him the path for the planet where they sleeped.

Determined to accomplish the mission given by the Oracle (and partially because he hopes to avert its propecy so that he’ll be able to become a Prime), Cheetor decides to make an expedition in search of them, searching high and low for the best ship in the universe and Cybertron’s brightest and most heroic Transformers for the crew.

Shame that he only managed to recruit a bunch of weirdos, losers and misfits and the ship he found malfunctioned and sent them in the middle of nowhere.

Now Cheetor and his motley crew have to find where they are and how to reach the Covenant’s planet, all while dealing with lots of problems (both personal and not) and secrets, including the identity of the saboteur that is manipulating them for an unknown reason.

Characters

Cheetor (Rodimus):

Once one of the youngest member of the Maximals, he used to be a delivery boy before the war. One day, during a delivery, he discovered that the Predacons conquered his home town of Kaon and razed it to the ground, leading him to conscript in the Maximal army in search of revenge. Here he met Optimus Primal and Rattrap and despite the rocky beginning they became friends. During the war he slowly rise in the ranks and accomplish many impressive feats... and put himself in trouble lots of times. During one of his misadventures he met Lio Convoy, then known simply as Lio, and the two became best friends, having many adventures during the years until Lio discovered to have the rare potential to become a combiner, forcing Lio to remain in space with the other two parts of the combiner while Cheetor followed Optimus on Earth and was forced to enter into stasis when the ice age began.

He was one of the first Maximals to awake from slumber in the 19th century, and briefly acted as Rhinox’s second in command while he temporarely replaced the then MIA Optimus Primal as leader. When their existence became public, Cheetor began to act as the face of the Maximals and for a while acted as an intermediary between the UN and the Maximals, doing a decent job at preventing a war between the two species. During the Vehicon war he met again Lio, now having gained the rank of Convoy, and the duo managed to led the troops into saving some planets from Jetstorm. During the end of the war Cheetor became Optimus Primal’s second in command and temporarely guarded the Matrix when Optimus wasn’t considered worty of it anymore.

After the whole Matrix fiasco and the Oracle’s propecy Cheetor became determined to find the Covenant, no matter the hardships, but the numerous misfortunes made him doubt that he’ll be able to accomplish it and also convinced him that there’s a saboteur that is responsible for some of the incidents... or maybe he’s just paranoid.

He’s similar to Rodimus, personality-wise, but a little bit more responsible towards his crew and a lot more mature. The fact that the Matrix chose his friend hurt him a lot, and despite he claims to have accepted the Matrix’s decision and is very supportive for his friend, deep down a part of him despises him and wants to have his role, even if he knows that the Oracle’s propecies are never wrong. Despite he has many friends, the only bots he’s close in the ship are Tigatron and Rattrap and he also has a certain amount of respect (and fear) for Dinobot and Big Convoy.

He has a Transmetal body that grant him a flight mode, but after he is exposed to a mutagen he slowly starts to mutate into a stronger Transmetal 2 form, losing his ability to fly but gaining the ability to manipulate energy.

Big Convoy (Ultra Magnus+Fortress Maximus):

Originally a friendly and skillful, albeith a little strict, Maximal general named Slammoth (Big was a nickname given him for his size), he was put on charge of the special assault team known as the Wreckers shortly after the first Megatron took control of the city of Kaon. He was sent with his team to dispose of him and the rebellious Predacons by the government, but he secretly planned to simply capture him and force the rest of the rebels to surrender, preventing a possible bloodshed.

Unfortunately, his plan went very wrong and it ended up starting a million years long war in which most of his friends died and he saw and did horrible things, to the point that many Maximals want him dead. Despite this, Optimus Primal always defended him, stating that his strategic skills where unmatched by anyone and most of the time his actions ended up saving many Maximals.

Unfortunately, with the end of the war and the death of Optimus his situation soon became worse, and Big realized that he needed to leave Cybertron or else he would probably be condemned to spend what remains of his life in jail or be hunted down by vegeful bots. When he heard about the expedition, he begged Cheetor to let him join as head of security and he accepted, if only because he was afraid of what Big would have done if he said no.

He is very serious and takes his role of head of security very seriously, to thepoint that he put in jail half of the crew for having not properly saluted him. He suffers from PTSD and occasionally he has random bout of violence, and since his body is filled with weapons you can imagine what happens in those situations. He also enjoys metallurgy and writing poetry, but the sheer nihilism and lenght of it led to some poor bots that listened to it to enter into an angst coma.

He despises Rampage for having killed some of his closest friends during the war, and Waspinator because he keeps trying to analyze him. Most of the crew feels the same towards him, but especially Transmutate, who HATES him so much that she once almost killed him because she thought he harmed Rampage. The only bot that tolerates him and vice-versa is ironically Inferno, who shares his passion for metallurgy and has a similarly horrible past.

He turns into a mammoth and is classified as a living weapon of mass destruction due to his internal arsenal. He also owns an one-of-a-kind weapon called Matrix Buster that has enough firepower to destoy a star that he famously used to destroy a star system in order to not let it fall into Predacon’s hands.

Waspinator (Rung):

If you search “unlucky” on a Cybertronian dictionary you will find his face, and you also find out that his name is a synonym for it.

Nobody knows where he came from, not even him: all he knows is that he woke up with a big headache in a building in Kaon and before he could realize where he was Big Convoy demolished the building during the battle with the first Megatron. Extracted barely alive from the ruins by a group of Predacons, he was mistaken for one of the civilians that sided with them and recruited in their faction. Since then he got involved in many battles and many misadventures, from being stomped by an awakened titan to being possessed twice by the spirit of Starscream, being blown up so many times that you could make an army of him with his lost parts.

When he was forced to follow Megatron on Earth things for a while improved for him: after the ice age ended he woke up thousands of years earlier than the rest and ended up becoming the god of a tribe of hominids, leading an happy life until he run out of energon and was forced to enter stasis in order to survive.

And then he accidentally woke up in the 19th century and discovered that the other Predacons were awakening and he had to follow again his much hated leader, leading to him being blown up and beaten up again and again and again. Eventually he got fed up and in 1999 he decided to leave the Predacons and became a Maximal, who treated him much better than his former comrades despite they hated him for being a former Predacon. When the war apparently ended, he finally tried to relax a bit, but soon the Vehicon war began. Tired and not interested in fighting another war, he left the Maximals and Earth, becoming one of the ever expanding NAILs, and started living on a far away colony alongside them. While the universe was in chaos, he began studying psychology in order to help the many soldiers that wanted to have a better life and eventually he got a licence.

When Cybertron and the universe were saved he came back on Cybertron for an holiday, but when it was time to board the ship to go back home he mistakenly boarded the Lost Light and when he realized his mistake the ship’s engines malfunctioned and he found himself partially merged with a wall, dragged into a quest he didn’t want or meant to join.

On the good side, he now has lots and lots of patients, some of which didn’t blew him up during the war.

Waspinator used to complain a lot about his fate, with his famous catchphrase “Why universe hates Waspinator?” being a classic meme on Cybertron, but nowadays he’s mostly unfazed by whatever happens around/to him. It’s unclear if this is resignation to the fact that the universe hates him or simply he began taking things in stride, but one thing is for sure: he’s a massive magnet for weirdness and misfortune. He often spends time with the Survivors, a ragtag bunch of misfits (and Tigratron) that used to be Airazor’s crewmates and had similar misadventures during the years.

He turns into a wasp, but for a brief time he became a Transmetal and gained a jet mode. Unfortunately that happened by the time he got possessed again by Starscream, meaning that not only he wasn’t in control of his body, but technically it was Starscream that gained the upgrade instead of him, meaning that when he abandoned the body Waspinator was brought back to normal.

Rampage (Cyclonus):

One of the last remnants of a long gone era. The bot that became Rampage was once an astrophisician and a bot of culture that joined Galvatron’s (Beast Wars 2 Galvatron, not Generation 1 Galvatron) expedition to a newly discovered planet and got contaminated alongside the others by the highly dangerous Angolmois Energy, becoming an invincible beast with a thirst of destruction.

For a long time he was forced to obey his now insane and corrupted “leader”, who cut off part of his now immortal spark and put it in a device that crushed it if he tried to rebel, but he slowly planned his escape and revenge towards his oppressors. During that time, the only things that prevented him to slip further into insanity were books, which he stole from the ruins of conquered planets, and Depth Charge, the only bot that ever managed to fight against him and survive. They fought each other multiple times during the years, and Rampage always hoped that one day he would have been able to kill him, but that would never happen.

During the Vehicon war, Megatron managed to create an antidote to Angolmois and used it to cure Galvatron and most of his crew before slaughtering them. Rampage survived by destroying the hull of the ship, floating in the empthiness of cosmos until some members of the resistance found him and mistakenly thought that he was dead. He would have killed them in any other situation, but not then: most of the bots that tortured him for years were dead, including Galvatron, leaving him unable to get his revenge, and the only cure in existence was in the hands of Megatron. Furious, he forced his saviors to bring him to Optimus Primal and then offered to help him stop Megatron and then be dragged to jail for the rest of his life, but only if first he let him kill him with his own bare hands. Optimus reluctanctly accepted, and with his help the resistance managed to score some significant victories, but despite this no one was happy of him siding with them.

Especially Depth Charge.

Depth Charge hated having him around, since he killed billions of living beings along the galaxy and attempted to murder him more than usual. Megatron knew of this and decided to make Charge an offer: he would give him the Angolmois antidote to kill Rampage, but in exchange he would become a Vehicon commander. Filled with anger, he accepted, and in the span of a day Depth Charge almost caused the resistence to fall, causing the loss of lots of lives and resources. Rampage was devastated: he was healed by the effects of Angolmois, but the only bot he considered his rival betrayed everything he stood for and willingly sacrificed thousands of lives in order to kill him and the survivors blamed him for this. Rampage ran away and disappeared for a long while, crushed by the weight of his actions and the effects they had.

Rampage later reappeared on Cybertron in search of the few surviving members of Galvatron’s crew with the intention of killing them and then himself, but once he found them he discovered that Inferno mistook them fro bounty hunters and killed them. Furious, Rampage tried to kill him, but Transmutate’s attempt to escape from her capsule caused an huge explosion, knocking him unconscious. The trio got dragged on the Lost Light with the intention of treating and then leaving them on a civilized planet once they recovered, but the malfunction forced them to join the crew, which made Rampage very angry.

He hates being forced to partecipate to a mission he believes to be pointless and being surrounded by a bunch of people that either hate or fear him, but most of all he is tired: he lived a long time, spent most of his life as an evil insane monster and finally regaining his sanity at the cost of the closest thing to a friend he had. All he wants now is dying.

And yet he got attached to Transmutate, a defective point one percenter who most of the crew treats with a mix of pity and disgust, and developed a sort of respect towards Silverbolt, that was created in laboratory, forced to obey his mad creator’s orders despite he knew they were wrong and struggled to fit in the Cybertronian’s society.

Will he be able to redeem himself? Or he will remain the monster everyone says he his? Only time will tell...

He has a crab and a tank alt-mode, and lots of cannons and other weapons of mass destruction.

PART 2===>

[bnnywngs]

It was supposed to be another working morning full of different smiles and lots of conversations with their clients, the strong smell of coffee and bread swimming through the store, but destiny liked to tease its puppets and now Galo's mind was empty besides a loud siren when he saw who just went through the doors and made the small bells jingle.

A small, thin person entered, a black band shirt half tucked inside ripped skinny jeans with no belt, mint green hair tied in a small ponytail that looked more like a bunny tail, black boots and a small round pretty face with strange sunset eyes – it was the person driving that noisy bike he just saw parking across the street.

"Excuse me?" the client said in front of the cashier, taking him off his daze.

"Ah, yes, sorry! A café mocha, right? And a bagel?" he smiled, looking at the order in the machine in front of him and trying to control his own heartbeats.

The person reached him after some time, long minutes that made Galo feel more and more nervous as he could see them approaching. Should he change with Aina? Escape whatever embarrassment he's going to make of himself? But before he could do anything more, they were there, looking serious and determinated, a card already between their fingers.

"G-good morning, welcome to BR Viennoserie, what can I get you?" is his smile shaking? Is he sweating too much? Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.

"Yes, a caramel macchiato and two brioche, please. Credit." the person said, voice deep and slightly husky. A shiver went down Galo's spine, his mind struggling to keep focus.

"Perfect. To go or you're eating here?" he took the card after saying the final price, smiling as he always did.

"Here." the person nodded.

"May I ask your name?" oh how much he wanted to hug the owner for introducing this idea to the shop – putting the client's name on their order.

"Lio."

"Thank you, Lio, you may wait for you beverage on this side, have a nice morning." he wanted to say so much more.

Lio nodded and accepted his card back with the receipt, looking as serious as the very first moment he arrived. Galo wasn't the one making drinks that morning and he was feeling kinda annoyed and regretful over that, but at least he held a (sort of) conversation with Lio. He held a sigh and smiled to the next client, the last one on the line for now.

With his tray in hands, Lio walked to a small round table by the window, dumping a lot more sugar than anyone else Galo knew in his drink and taking a small bite of the warm brioche. Galo stopped what he was doing, mind going blank again, when Lio closed his eyes with a pleased expression, clearly enamored with the flavor in his tongue.

Damn. Galo was a goner.

i will one day write a full story out of this

[unicyclehippo]

prompt: beau is *brilliant* but is flippant and hesitant to show it. sometimes the nein forget until they're reminded of this. aka beau is more than an athletic prodigy & it shows (i absolutely adore your writing btw & im so so grateful you share it with us)

human feat: prodigy—you have a knack for learning new things

//

it’s blazing hot, the blue sky burned nearly white, and the whole world smells like sulphur and iron and grass. it smells hot, like the world is one careless spark away from bursting into flame.

beau is eight and follows behind the new carpenter from the main house down to the woodshed, where she definitely isn’t supposed to be, and certainly not in the pretty dress she’s been dragged into. she flits from tree to tree, crawls on hands and knees behind the low brick wall that leads down to fields left and the stables and sheds to the right.

‘afternoon, miss beauregard,’ odwin calls to her as she contemplates how to sneak to the next portion of the wall. ‘you feel like standing upright or d’you prefer to wander with a new perspective?’

beau sighs. stands, brushing dust off her hands onto her dress. she frowns over at odwin. ‘how did you know i was there? i thought i hid really well.’

‘aye, you did. didn’t see you once.’

‘then,’

‘my deaf mum would’ve heard you coming, though.’

‘oh.’ beau crinkles her nose. ‘alright. i’ll work on that. what are you doing today?’

‘taking you back up to the house, i imagine.’

‘don’t bother, i’ll just leave again.’

‘i have t’take you back, miss beauregard...’

‘no you don’t. i’ll tell them i made you entertain me. if they even ask, which they won’t. are you doing anything fun?’

‘fun? aye, i suppose so. i’m using the oak wood we got in the last shipment to put together more casks. to put your fathers wine in, see.’

‘i thought the wine was bottled.’

‘it is. eventually. first though, well, after the brewing and fermenting, however that’s all figured, the wine sits nice and tight in the casks for, oh, at least a year. down in the cellars, nice and cool and dark. then he bottles ‘em and sends ‘em out.’

‘huh. and you make the barrels?’

‘aye, some of them.’

‘can i help?’

odwin sucks thoughtfully on his teeth, eyeing the girl for a moment. her dress—pretty as it once was—is already ruined from crawling in the dirt, a tear or two where she’s snagged it in the fence. it isn’t his place to say it but the girl isn’t suited to the indoors. it certainly isn’t his place to say it, but the girl isn’t suited to the parents she has.

he should say no.

‘you’ll be careful,’ he tells her, fuzzy brows settling sternly over dark eyes. ‘my tools aren’t play things, you realise.’ she nods quickly. ‘and you’ll stay put and just watch. i’m not having you lose a finger because of me.’

‘is that likely?’ she asks, intrigued.

such a strange child, he thinks, not for the first time.

‘well, no, not with what i’m doing today,’ he admits.

she steps up right beside him, eight years old and already nearly taller than him. she seemed to grow like a weed—tall and haphazard, all knees and elbows, and all of a sudden. he could’ve sworn she had been a half foot shorter only last week.

‘it’ll be fine then,’ she tells him, and smiles wide enough to show off the gap in her teeth, off to the right where she’d lost the last of her baby teeth.

odwin sighs. hopes this won’t lose him his position. so long as no one sees, it should be fine, right?

the woodshed is large, made for the human who had held the position before him. half-finished barrels, lids, and piles of the untreated wood have been placed around the outskirts of the room. to one side is a table and shelves with his tools and aprons; he ties his around his waist and points to a low stool.

‘you can sit there. don’t—‘ he pulls a bullhead hammer from her hands. ‘don’t touch anything.’

beau sighs. sits.

he endeavours to ignore her, working slowly at the task at hand, but it proves rather difficult. the girl has a pair of eyes on her like nothing else, crystal clear blue and intent on everything around her. for the first few minutes, she had scoured the inside of the shed, noting everything and its place, and then her attention had settled on him and never shifted.

‘how come you’re not bending the planks?’

‘staves.’

‘what?’

‘they’re called staves,’ odwin tells her. pauses a moment to wipe his brow. glancing over at his bare furnace, he can see it’s almost ready for him to begin softening one of the more complete barrels. ‘if i set ‘em in a second hoop, they’d crack. or splinter, and we don’t want that, no miss.’

beau just hums. adjusts her position—seated now upon a small barrel instead of the top-low foot stool—and settles still once more.

it goes on for some time, her asking the occasional question and him answering as best he can—sometimes with little more than a simple, this is how i was taught to do it, and she seems satisfied with that.

finally, when he rolls his shoulders out from their hunch, hammering the staves into alignment, he casts a look over at the girl. pretty layered dress all a mess, a healing scratch on her cheek from an old adventure, scuffed boots and loose laces peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirts. he reverses his hold on the hammer, holds it out to her.

‘care to give it a go?’

blue eyes light up, lightning in a bottle. she doesn’t take a moment to leap up, doesn’t question it for a second.

before too long, with surprisingly few corrections, beau has helped him to put together the first half of a functional barrel. they set it over the low fire, allowing it to soak and soften and eventually to toast, and he draws her back, offers her a cup of water. the jug is warm, almost hot from having sat on his work table all afternoon, and he thinks to apologise for it but the girl doesn’t seem to mind.

strange, curious girl.

‘you did very well today,’ he tells her. ‘you’ve a knack.’

‘what’s a knack?’ she asks, eyes narrowed and lips all a scowl like she expects it to be bad.

‘natural skill. my wife calls it a quickness. somethin’ you pick up real fast. maybe,’ he says, corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile, ‘you were a cooper in a past life.’

beau smiles, a mightily awkward expression on her face. ‘i like making stuff,’ she tells him, and odwin watches her relax into a real smile, big and unrestrained, when he simply nods.

//

‘learning a language is something that will require your full attention, miss lionette. tardiness will not be permitted, and a reluctance to practice will not earn you a reprieve—just more work. am i understood?’

her teacher is a strict woman and reminds beau of a spider. short sleek black bair clings tight to her scalp, and her dowdy grey school marm attire is made of some material that seems fuzzy and sharp all at once. a pair of glass lenses sit at the end of a barely there nose and she looks down at beau through them.

‘am i understood, miss lionette?’

‘huh? oh, yeah.’

‘you will speak in proper sentences in my classroom,’ the spider tells her, before launching into her first lesson.

beauregard is ten and school-bound. it had taken a full decade, apparently, for her dad to reluctantly agree that yup, she’s the one he’s got, and he should make the most of it by actually letting her learn things he would’ve taught the son of his dreams. bookkeeping, mathematics, finances, whatever. all beau takes from it is that the wood shed, the lake, the stables are now all well outside of her reach , locked as she is under the spider’s attention, and so she has to resort actually learning things to keep herself occupied.

the days pass in piles of paper and scratched tally marks on the lid of her desk.

she holds up a hand, ink splattered as usual. she can’t seem to get the grip right, an ache building in the fleshy bit of her palm after only a short while.

‘miss lionette,’ the spider says after a moment, making her wait. ‘you have a question?’

‘i’m done. can i leave?’

‘done?’ the spider coughs a laugh. ‘you had twenty problems, miss lio—‘

‘i’ve done ‘em. can i go now? please?’ she tacks on, remembering that sometimes helps.

the spider’s brows tug high on her forehead. she waves a hand. ‘bring them here.’

beau pushes back. her chair scrapes on the stone floor and the spider winces, an admonishment on her lips that beau ignores in favour of the hopeful flutter in her belly that she’ll actually get to go outside today. maybe even make it to the lake before the sun sets! catch that toad she saw in the reeds last time. she hands the papers over, watches the spider’s mouth pinch in distaste, examining the ink splotched pages. then, little by little, the distaste fades, and her brows crawl even higher.

beau fidgets with the tight collar of this stupid dress she’s in and flicks her eyes to the window.

‘these are well done, miss lionette,’ she hears the spider say.

darts a look up into magnified eyes, a yellow green the same colour of the lake reeds. ‘so i can go?’

‘do you enjoy learning halfling?’

beau huffs a sigh. ‘it’s fine.’ she bites her tongue so she doesn’t ask again. she never gets things when she asks for them too many times; it’s rude, or whatever.

‘you have grasped the basics of it very quickly.’

she shrugs. ‘it’s easy. there’s only four more letters than in common, and they always go with the same other letters. and the grammar is basically the same, except for questions.’

‘ah—yes. that’s very true.’ the spider taps beau’s pages of work into something more regular and sets them aside. then, folding her hands on the desk in front of her, she smiles. ‘you may go play. but i will see you here again promptly, miss lionette,’

‘after lunch tomorrow, i know,’ beau agrees, already breathless with excitement, and she ignores the spider’s reprimand as she tears from the room to her bedroom, struggling out of her dress and into better clothes, things no one minds if she gets them muddied or torn.

//

the monastery is grim and too much like the prison she was just bought out of for beau’s liking. the only thing it has going for it is the whole learning how to punch people thing, and that beau is fine with throwing her whole self into.

she stands rigid as a statue on the borders of the training room, which echoes with shouts of exertion and pain from the other monks. trainees, all with new crisp vestments like the ones she’s wearing, all with their heads shaved too. beau’s eyes are the only part of her that aren’t still, swivelling nearly out of her head as she sees the monks aren’t all human or elven—she sees halflings, half orcs, tieflings even among the intake.

‘here.’ a rough hand shoves a staff into her hands. smooth wood, about six feet. there’s a sudden stabbing pain as she holds it—the wood is white and all too familiar: oak. her trainer doesn’t notice or doesn’t care and she sweeps her own staff down to crack painfully against beau’s ankle, making her jump to the left.

‘hey, watch it,’

‘you watch it, greenstick,’ she retorts, face wide and stoic as a fucking brick. ‘guard.’

she doesn’t tell beau how to do that, but beau has never needed anyone to tell her how to do anything.

for that first day, beau earns bruises and smarting fingers. the day after that, she earns perhaps one less. on the third day, she realises that she can hit them back. a moment after she thinks it finds her trainer reeling back, catching beau’s staff in one hand. she rubs at her sore jaw with the other.

her trainer grins. tosses beau her staff back. ‘usually takes greensticks longer ‘n that. good work. guard.’

//

‘what are you working on?’

‘ah.’ caleb slips a hand over the spines of the books he clutches to his chest. beau doesn’t read too much into it, especially not when he immediately then offers them to her to look at. it’s a protective thing. she gets it.

‘algorithum’s of natural entropy and evolution, transmutation theorem’s, grades three and four, the power of herbalism in ritual—this is for nott’s thing?’

‘ah,’ caleb says again. she obviously had interrupted a train of thought, bursting in on his wandering through the stacks like this. ‘y-yes, yes in a way. and research, always.’

‘cool.’

he takes back his books. blinks owlishly at her.

fuck. she misses owl frumpkin.

‘need any help?’

‘certainly,’ he agrees, more readily now that he has the precious books back where they belong—in his hands, that is, not in their home on the shelves—and he waves to the place at his side for her to join him.

‘wanna tell me what you’re thinking about? maybe i just happen to know some shit about it. at least i can keep an eye out later.’

‘hmm? oh. well, there is—there is a spell, i believe, that halas has... ah... redesigned? it is an advanced form of polymorph—‘

‘polymorph two.’

caleb chuckles. ‘true polymorph, it is called. in some circles. i do not - i am not capable of casting it, but i can recognise it’s...equation. in what i have seen.’

‘mhm.’

‘i believe that if i am able to - to blend it in some way with another spell, perhaps an illusion or...’ caleb trails off, drags a finger over his chin thoughtfully. the scratch, scratch, scratch of his nail over stubble is the only accompaniment to their journey, other than their quiet steps. the library is not busy so late in the evening. not tonight.

‘what about a clerics spell?’ beau suggests. ‘it’d be crossed, ah, spell work—i dunno what you call that—but if you found a way to mix a revivify maybe? or resurrection?’

she stops when she realises caleb has stopped. his eyes—blue, like her own, but so often cool, glacial almost, are nearly white with the fire sparked in them.

‘beauregard,’

‘is that stupid?’

‘it’s brilliant! i don’t know if it will work, it would be mixing magics in a way i have never attempted, but if - the ritual could be prayer, or i have seen - for scrying and communing and the like, certainly rituals are not foreign to clerics,’ he mutters, accent thick as he grows more and more excited about the potential as he says several times. he shifts the stack of books into the crook of one arm and wraps the other around beau’s neck, pulling her in to plant a whiskery kiss to her forehead. ‘brilliant!’

‘ew.’

//

‘dorok! the undercommon is unfamiliar but the word is recognisable—halt!

the nein freeze, ice dripping down their spines as they consider being caught here in the shadow glade, far too close to the beacons for any deception to get them out of. turning, they take in the sight of the guards in their dark, jagged armour. the obvious mistrust on their faces. seeming holds over the nein’s forms, keeping them in their drow appearances, but it hadn’t hit until precisely this moment the drawback of not understanding the fucking language.

‘akarish iv’viosk na-doth rakki ishnau,’ beau calls back to them. her form is bulkier, typical of a drow warrior, and with proud angular features. her tone, though they cannot understand her words, drips with importance.

‘what the fuck is she doing?’

‘shh, shut up,’ jester hisses. ‘just nod when she nods.’

beau nods. the nein nod as well.

the guards narrow their eyes. speak quickly to beau, tone a little less strident, more conversational. she responds in kind and after a long, tense moment, the guards lift their spears and, with a nod, step away.

‘hey!’ drow fjord whispers when they’re gone. ‘what was that! that was fucking sick!’

‘very impressive,’ caleb agrees. ‘but let us keep moving.’

‘definitely. they won’t be gone forever,’ beau agrees. ‘thanks for the seeming, caleb, they can’t see that i’m fucking dripping with sweat. dude—‘ drow beau slaps a hand against fjord’s chest, her eyes wide with only slightly exaggerated fear, ‘they would’ve killed us. like, straight up.’

‘i know! that’s what we thought would happen!’

‘it would have! but you know undercommon now?’ jester says, and asks.

‘yeah, i picked up a couple books and talked to some people while we were in rex - uh - the capital,’ she says carefully, in case the name of the city might set off an alarm.

‘you learned undercommon?’ yasha interjects softly. ‘just like that?’ she clicks her fingers.

‘kinda? i’m a bit rusty,’

‘you’re obviously fine if you tricked those guards,’

‘i think i used the past tense for gardening—oh yeah, i told them we are gardeners so cad, you’d better tell me all you know about, i dunno, tubers.’

‘i’d love to!’

‘sweet. let’s move, people!’

[lucyoftheabyss48]

Thoughts on Promare Part 1: Galo and Lio’s Relationship

I rewatched Promare recently, so I thought I’d write a piece on it. (Read Part 2 here )

I want to try to explain why Galo and Lio work so well together, even though Galo himself described their partnership as “oil and water.” And it’s true. They’re opposites, practically living in separate worlds. Lio’s the leader of the terrorist group Mad Burnish. Galo’s a firefighter, tasked with putting out the Burnish’s fires and capturing them. They’re natural enemies, natural rivals. They’re on different sides. They certainly start out this way. But by the end of the film, they find common ground and fight together. Let’s take a look at how they got there. 

This was also inspired by the song Inferno from the Promare OST, so I’ve incorporated some lyrics throughout, which will explain why the song fits in so well with the movie.

“All my life been hoping for a happy life for me”

Lio and the Mad Burnish have a creed, that they wouldn’t kill needlessly. They wouldn’t kill innocent people. They would just fight to create a safe place for the Burnish who were being captured and exploited by Kray Foresight. So, early on, it’s established that Lio is someone who cares about other people — that he isn’t so bad, even if he is a terrorist group leader.

When the truth that the flames were sentient aliens who had a natural inclination to burn everything and destroy the earth came out, Lio was shocked. He wondered aloud, “Then what have we been (fighting for)?”

I’m implying the fighting for part, because he actually just trails off there. But the main point here is that he’s questioning what he and the rest of Mad Burnish have been doing all this time.

Remember, he cares about people, so much that he wouldn’t kill the people who lived in ignorance and prejudice towards the Burnish. He wouldn’t even kill the people who jailed him and his fellow Burnish. Not hurting people is what Lio is all about. It just so happened that he had fire powers that spoke to him in his mind, saying that they wanted to burn. Resisting it was impossible. To burn meant to live, for him.

But the very flames that he felt were a natural and essential part of him would end up destroying the Earth, and all the people on it that he cared so much for.

“Trails of Fire… They’d lead me to you”

Lio burned and fought as the Mad Burnish leader because it seemed natural to him, as natural as breathing. But when he realized that it may have just been the will of alien creatures inside of him, he began to question himself and his actions up until then.

He began to question his place. He didn’t feel like he belonged with his fire alien race. But he didn’t have a place among humans either. So he experienced a loss of identity and purpose.

But Lio wasn't in this alone.

When Galo crashed into Lio in his rampaging, revenge-driven dragon form and trapped him inside the ship Aina was driving, Lio was very visibly thrown off guard when Galo said, “I understand how you feel. I was betrayed by Kray too.”

The last time they’d met was in the cave, and Galo had apologized for assuming Burnish didn’t need to eat, for thinking they weren’t human. He had even said that he thought Burnish could live normal lives with the other humans.  

Lio was the leader of the Burnish, furthest from a normal human being, the largest outcast of human society. But here was Galo — a human, a fire fighter, a hero with a medal for capturing the big boss — agreeing that yes, Lio is human, and yes, he does deserve a place to belong. And Lio wanted to believe him. But at the time of the cave scene, Galo was still ignorant of Kray’s crimes.

Then he sat handcuffed in that cave alone and in the dark. He watched powerless, as a Burnish woman died and disappeared without trace into ash. He found out Lio hadn’t been lying about Kray. He was thrown into prison. He pounded his fists on his cell door and cried. Everything he’d known had been a lie, and the person who’d led him there had only wanted him to die.

Next we see him, he’s sitting stone faced as far from the door as possible.

Then when Galo hears — senses — Lio rampaging outside, when Lio’s flames break down the cell walls and Galo looks out and sees him there, of course he notices the trail of flaming tears Lio is shedding. Of course he understands. Because he’s the same.

He was betrayed too.

But when he said that, he meant more than just that. He meant, “I know now, what you’re going through. I know, and I will be here for you.” Galo had lost his place in society too— branded as a terrorist and jailed by his hero. He meant that they were equals, that they were in the same boat, so they shouldn’t be fighting each other, but fighting together.

“You guys are smiling at me, and you inspire”

Although they once stood on opposing sides, Galo and Lio learned to respect each other despite their differences. And I think the biggest reason why they were able to do so, was because they essentially told each other, “Your convictions are right. You can be proud about that.”

Lio never wanted to hurt people. He just lost a place to belong the day he became a Burnish, and he’s been looking for “the place that he lost” all this time. He’ll do anything to get equality for his fellow Burnish, but he’ll never kill anyone for it.

Galo had a hero to look up to. He tries not to be prejudiced, as evidenced with how angry he was that the innocent pizza cook was arrested before he ever even committed any crimes, just because he was a Burnish. He admits when he’s wrong, like when he found out Burnish ate and grieved over lost friends, just like normal humans.

But all that he was, was because of Kray. Yet Kray was doing horrible things. Kray had lied to him, and led him down this path of being a firefighter, the same path Kray himself had gone down, in hopes that Galo would just die on the field. Kray was exploiting the Burnish to save himself. Galo couldn’t believe that his savior and hero was actually doing something so terrible. He felt betrayed.

But he saw Lio suffering, on the verge of breaking his code of not killing people. So Galo rushed in and reminded Lio of that, because Lio’s conviction was something Galo could admire. In a moment of weakness, hurt and alone in that cell, Galo looked up and he saw Lio in the same place. He couldn’t leave that alone. Lio was supposed to be the strong one, set in his beliefs and values, just like Galo once thought Kray was.

Just like Galo himself wanted to be.

“I know I can be the man that I should be.”

So Galo saved Lio, and told him to keep on burning, because he had the “pride of the Burnish” to uphold. And likewise, Lio told Galo his firefighting soul was needed to save this world. It wasn’t Kray’s influence, or Kray’s teachings to him, but Galo’s own values, his own burning firefighter’s soul that was needed.

They found each other’s strength in their values respectable, admirable, and inspirational — but they could also rely on the other in their darkest hours. Despite their differences, this is where they are the same, and that’s why they can work together so well.

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

New Guilt

Fandom: Promare

Characters: Gueira, Lio Fotia, Meis

A/N: It is so hard to write t-fic for Promare but I have so many random ideas that just are weird and won’t work but thank you @kwaiipootato for the aid in idea execution. But Kray tickling Lio for his power is an idea that’s crossed my mind, and Galo saving him. Anyway, moving on. This isn’t a Galo x Lio fanfic because I do enjoy that aspect of them but also I thought their quick growing friendship was one of the cutest things ever. 

Description: Time has passed and the city of Promepoils and much has changed. Lio Fotia encouraged his fellow burnish to start over and follow whatever passion they wane to pursue. From this, time has built up, along with unmeasurable guilt. Was he a traitor? Did he abandon his breatharian? Galo offers the idea of inviting the other two members of the Mad Burnish over to the shared apartment for a “guys night” to aid with this feeling.

_

Hands fell from the fist bump, blue meeting purple. Synced smiles emerged as a restored city welcomed all, legally, into it’s area. Discrimination and arogance became a more hushed ordeal as burnish aidded the work force, the modern civilian in reconstruction. Most throught nothing would com from this but a waste of time or just helping others. They knew they’d be unwelcomed, despite the new charge having nothing against the former flames. 

She prefered to be called Governor, allowing Galo to even call her “Gov”. She was sweet, she was stern; but she was open to the idea of allowing the burnish to build their own city if they truly wanted too. She understood why they would, and no amount of money or apologizing would ever be able to make up for such harsh and inhumane treatment. 

Kray was locked away in his shut down facility; his legacy being burnt as it was rewritten. The Freeze Force was dismissed and shut down, the Burning Rescue became normal fire fighters, a new police force with basic equipment erupted.  Anyone could work and live wherever they please so long as they followed basic work ethics and had the right requirements. This caused some issues, but not too many. 

During this time of regrowth though, Lio found himself spending more and more time with his blue haired, idotic savior. Wherever Lio went, Galo would fallow; and vice versa. Before Galo could rent an apartment again, he would follow Lio into sheltered areas of rubble and sleep near him. They worked together throughout the project and when the time came that the city was rebuilt, Galo was excited to ask the other to sign the lease with him. 

Lio was taken off guard by this; but what did he expect? When he talked to his former team members, Meis and Gueira were less surprised than the blonde expected them to be. “Well, are you going to sign it or wait until we build our city?”  “Our city”? The idea that he, himself had proposed hadn't even stuck around after everything that had happened. 

As the blonde’s head fell, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Purple met red before a smile came across Gueira’s face. “A lot’s changed, yeah; but do you really want to live amongst these people? Sure, legally we can live here now, but do you want to? After everything they’ve done,” Lio lifted his head fully this time. “Kray. What Kray did, the orders Kray gave. The people don’t matter as long as you're happy, Gueira.”

The two males looked shocked. “What, you're saying it’s a good idea to stay here? With these people?!” Was this the same Lio Fotia that had earned the title as “Boss” to the Mad Burnish? The blonde thought for a moment. “I think it’s up to you to decide what you think is best. We’ll never fully be accepted, I know that. I’m willing to face that, to see this so called ‘equal’ city the new governor has proposed.

“I was offered a spot that I could enforce this so called equality and offer aid to those who need it. Without my flames, I’ve been at a complete loss of purpose. But I found i enjoy saving people and helping them. Other people have other dreams and passions they wish to pursue or education they wish to achieve,” he paused to motion to a moth holding her child to the side of the still abandoned market that the burnish were currently inhabiting. “Or an education and better chance at life for children. This is what I wish to do, your paths are your choice.” 

There was a shocked silence before Meis finally said something. “So…. your staying with that blue haired idiot then, right?” Lio’s demeanor shifted slightly, but not enough to be fully noticed. He was a bit shocked by that response but pushed it aside. He couldn’t expect everyone to feel the same. “Galo,” he corrected. “Yes, I’m staying here with Galo to save people.” The room was still tesne. 

The seconds in command looked to each other, unsure of what the next move should be. “So, that’s it Boss? You want to stay and try to build a new start,” Gueira asked. The blonde nodded. “Why not? Would our city be much different? We’d act with less respect towards a normal person if they stumbled upon us. Same give and take economic method they have. All I can say is the majority and minorities would be reversed. 

“Ignoring a social issue isn’t resolving it, it’s just that. It’s ignoring something of importance. If you wish to leave and start your own community to avoid those who’ve done us wrong, so be it. I, personally, am going to stand and show it doesn’t affect me. Their arrogance, their actions, their words. We’re all human; even if they don’t see it, I do.” 

His introduction speech played through his friends’ heads as they took in his words; his take on where they stood. They stood equal by law as stated, but socially they would have to make it know that they weren’t going to simply disappear into the shadows again because they weren’t wanted thanks to lies and oppression caused by Kray. 

“Well, if that’s how you feel,” Meis started, looking up from the dirty concrete floor. Lio was bracing himself for an orally harsh blow. :Then I guess we’re still right behind you Boss,” Gueira finished. Huh? Lio looked shocked at this, not masking the emotion. “You want to stay?” He couldn’t believe it. 

“Us two will, yeah. The others can decide on their own,” Gueira said with a smile as he looked around the quiet building. “They can't just force us back into hiding because it makes them feel better. We’re not bugs, we’re burnish,” Meis reasoned. “We’re people,” a woman said form the back. “We have rights too,” a man agreed. “It’s time to take action!” “We need to take advantage of this opportunity!” “Better living conditions!” “Better medicine!”

Soon enough the store was alive with the sounds of agreement. Lio looked a bit shocked. He’d honestly stopped by, not expecting for so many to understand or even want to stay. He smiled with no control of it before feeling two hands on his shoulders. Meis and Gueira looked down at him with unsure but hopeful smiles. “You’ll just have to see where life takes you,” was Lio’s departing words. 

He knew he’d see them around again; Meis had the address of the new apartment. But it felt like the right time to leave, to let everyone's growth start to bloom. “Oi, Lio!” A new voice called to the blonde as he left. A familiar blue haired male waving to the other as he jogged over. “That was pretty noisy, how’d it go?” Lio gently took the jacket off the back of the motorcycle before pulling it on. 

“Better than I could have ever expected.” The smile on his face was all Galo needed before he cracked a grin. 

The sound of a door clicking shut seemed to be the only noise in the night air before a parental tone broke through the temporary bliss. “I still can’t believe your letting two guys you hardly know spend the night in your apartment without you there,” it lectured. The male being addressed shrugged before turning to the woman who’d be housing him that night with a smile. “It doesn’t matter if I know them or not, Aina; Lio does. They were the Mad Burnish. Gotta be close to have a functioning group like them, right?”  

The pink haired girl shrugged before sighing a bit as she looked down past her crossed arms. “Yeah but have they been all that close since we defeated Kray? It’s not like they see each other all that often.” Galo gently took her arm before guiding her down the stairs. “Regardless, it’s his apartment too. His friends, his apartment and,” he sighed as he thought about the conversation that brought this plan about. “He needs some time with them.”

Aina looked at him with confusion as they walked down the street to her motorcycle. “Oh, is something wrong?” Galo shrugged as he stopped on the road side of the vehicle. “Ah, it’s difficult to explain. Frankly, I’m still not even sure what Lio was getting at. It’s like he feels guilty or something for everything. Like the burnish losing their flame, Kray being defeated, rebuilding the city, moving in with me and becoming a firefighter.” He stopped the list and shook his head. 

“I don’t know. He’s my best friend, I just want to help him. But I can't save him if I don’t know what I’m putting out. Maybe this’ll help?”  Aina thought a moment before shaking her head. “Your doing what you can, your being there for him. That’s all you can do sometimes,” she stated softly before climbing onto her vehicle. “Still though,” she started before looking behind her to see Galo following her lead, “I’m surprised Lio was so trusting of you so quickly. You guys grew a strong bond so quickly and from nothing. 

“If I was in his shoes, I’m not sure I could have done the same.” Galo thought about her words. He’d never really considered or stopped to think about how quickly their friendship took off.  “What I’m saying is, he trusts you a lot Galo. You thought this would be best to help him, right?” The blue haired male nodded; his face looked like that of a distraught child. “Then your already helping to extinguish his grief. Your a good friend Galo.” The other looked a little shocked before smiling. 

“I didn’t think about it that way…. thanks Aina.” The girl gave him a wink. “Now…. how about some pizza?” Galo let out a sound of excitement before the two took off down the shockingly empty street. 

_

It was both comforting and sickening at the same time. Guilt burned inside him, demanding action as if the flame had never left. He hadn’t been doing enough, he hadn’t been there for them like he should be; like he used to be. The blonde awkwardly stood in the kitchen with his former group mates before motioning towards the fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like. We don’t have much, but I could try to cook.” 

Meis gave a small nod as Gueira snorted. “Yeah, let’s see how long until you burn down the idiot’s apartment with that.” Lio huffed before crossing his arms. “I’m not that awful.” The red head walked close to the blonde with a playful smirk. “Lio you’ve never cooked properly a day in your life.” Meis sighed as he opened the fridge for a bottle of water. “Neither have we Gueira.” 

He was a bit surprised to see some small meals here and there. Pizza from the shop nearby, pasta dishes; and a lot of  them. The dark haired male tucked some hair behind his ear before grabbing the plate of pizza and walking to the microwave. “Forty five should do it, right?” Lio nodded. “Yeah.” 

The sound of the microwave filled the awkward silence around the three before Gueira started to look around. “Wow, nice place you got here Boss.” Everything was rather plain and basic, yet homey all at the same time. There weren't many materialistic-type items except for a few pictures on the wall and a stack of dvds next to an average sized television. It made sense seeing as the burnish had to live as minimalists for so long. 

“Thanks,” Lio said, feeling even more awkward. “So, anything here yours or is this all…. Galo’s?” Meis wasn’t sure he got the name right. Lio gave him a nod before sighing. “The pictures are his, same with the dvds. Other than that he says it’s ours.” Meis quirked a brow. “That’s an odd way to respond.” 

Gueria walked back over before standing in front of Lio with crossed arms. “That Galo guy getting in your head or something? This and that is his but he says the rest is ours?” It didn’t sound right hearing it back. “That’s not what I meant,” Lio defended. “I’m just not used to all this.” Lio held himself awkwardly as he looked away, almost shamefully. He wasn’t clarifying much. 

“Then why stay here?” Meis shot daggers at the red head. “Gueira. If he’s happy here, leave him be.” Lio was staring between them, rather shocked from the statements. “He’s still not used to this place. It’s been nine months.” As the two started to argue back and forth, Lio finally came between them. “Alright, break it up.” They weren’t getting aggressive, just showing they cared for the other. 

It was clear that they were upset though. But was it about Lio leaving them? “Honestly, what’s this guy got that we don’t Lio,” Gueira asked with a more calm tone. “He’s a Burning Rescue member. He captured us, he captured so many of us.” “We wanted to get captured to find where they were keeping us,” Lio argued back with slight frustration. “But he didn’t know that!” Meis sighed. He was staying out of it until necessary. Turning back to the microwave, he pulled out the pizza and stood by the counter; watching his entertainment as he ate.

“I’m sorry. Do I need to remind you that he saved me? That he saved all of us? We’d all be dead if he hadn't helped. He isn’t against the burnish, he only had a problem with the fires we started, that’s it. The same goes for the rest of the rescue force. None of them hate burnish. One person can not dictate the beliefs and mindset of those bearing a similar label of identification.” 

The two growled as they leaned in closer. “And his whole promise to protect you from everything people who don’t believe in that do to you? He’s really got you around his finger there Boss.” Lio growled a bit more as he pressed his forehead against the other’s. “Why do you hate him so much? You don’t even know him!” 

“Because you were so quick to trust him and run off with him! For the love of everything you are wearing your work jacket! Your part of the Burning Rescue team!” Lio pulled back with widened eyes before looking away. Gueira looked shocked. Had he just…. broke the boss? Meis sat forward. “Enough, both of you. We’re a family, knock it off.” Lio was quiet as he took off the jacket and laid it on the chair beside him. Goosebumps popped up on his skin from the cool air in the apartment.

“So I’m a traitor?” Gueira looked even more shocked before, now Meis did too. “No one said your a traitor Lio. Look,how about we take a breath before anything else stupid comes out.” Meis glared at the red head as he spoke. “No, I get it. I left the burnish for a guy I hardly knew. Then to make matters worse, I joined the fire fighters.” He shook his head. This wasn’t a good idea, but the others had all the right to be upset with him. 

“Boss, we never said that,” Gueira said with a bit of panic in his voice. Meis leaned forward before taking another bite of his pizza. “What’s on your mind?” Lio still wouldn’t look at them. “I feel like I abandoned you all. I feel like there’s more I could be doing, that I should be doing, but I don’t know what if people don’t approach me about it. I can’t just track everyone down like before. We’re not all in the same area.” 

Purple eyes closed as a sigh escaped soft lips. “Maybe the city was a good idea, our own.” Meis and Gueira looked at each other before going back to the blonde. Lio suddenly squeaked, jumping as a hand squeezed his side. “Hey, what did you do with the Boss, huh?” Meis smirked as he walked around the back of the table to corner the blode. “Yeah, since when is he so insecure?” 

Huh? “What are you two,” he gasped again, cutting off his question. Oh no. Purple eyes widened before fear started to kick in. “Don’t even think about it,” he threatened as he tried to squirm out of the trap. The dark haired male started first, tickling the dark cloth shielding the small frame of the blonde softly. Lio turned his head away from the offending hands, biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

“What Gueira meant was that…. We’ll, we just don’t trust how fast you bonded to that blue idiot. We’re happy for you boss but we just don’t trust these people. You can handle yourself to an extent but we don’t have our flames anymore. You're like a sitting duck.” Four hands started to pinch up and down his sides. To keep his composure, Lio gripped the chair in front of him tightly, moving his body a little to try and avoid the touches. 

“See? By now you would have had flames defending you.” Which would normally encourage them to torment the poor blonde more. “St…. st…. haop!” He was losing it. Meis sighed before moving up to the ribs. “What it boils down to is you have your friends, and we have ours. We weren’t trying to guilt you back.” Gueira nodded before prying hand arm from the chair. 

Lio quickly grabbed onto the other with his free hand, only for both arms to suddenly before lifted overhead. Panic from his mistake hit him quickly. How careless could he have been?! Meis quickly moved behind the smallest, Gueira in front of him. Lio was pinned between the two. A hand held each forearm, keeping both arms over head as Meis dug into the exposed underarms. “Nhahahahaha! N-Nhahahahao! Shahahait- whahahait!” 

Both grinned evilly as memories from living on the run came back. Sure, these three weren’t overly lovey dovey, physically affectionate people; but they had their bonding moments. Tickling down each other sometimes was the closest they really got to that; and it was mainly to mess with each other (or especially Lio). “Where’s that protection now, huh,” Gueira chuckled. “Yeah Boss, where’s that hero of yours?” 

The blonde started to shake his head, not wanting to give either anymore satisfaction than he was. The red head chuckled before yanking Lio forward, quickly catching him and lifting him up from under his bottom. “D-Don’t even,” Lio squealed as he tried to balance himself by pressing his hands against the ceiling. 

“But Lio, we have to test you to make sure your body’ll be able to move in that stupid, tacky armor you need,” Meis said, mocking Lucia’s designs. “Tsk, tsk, you should be taking this job more seriously.” Lio nearly slipped from the ceiling, face bright red; a hand started to squeeze at his thighs. “Ghehehet the hehehell off mhehehehe!”

“Maybe after we work out a few deals here,” Meis started as he started to squeeze higher towards Lio’s butt. The blonde was thankful he had jeans on, it wasn’t as bad as it could be. “For starters, don’t worry about trying to help us with our rent,” Gueira huffed. “You have yourself to worry about. It’s not your job to watch for all of us.” 

There was no response. Slowly, Lio did move to hang himself over the red head’s shoulder as he couldn’t keep his balance much longer. Blonde hair flipped upward as tears started to form. “If you don’t say something your feet are next,” Meis threatened. Lio shook his head, laughing freely before finally choking out something. “What was that,” Gueira asked with a laugh. “Thahahat’s my jahahaob!” Meis shrugged before giving a short break to the blonde. 

Lio didn’t bother to try to pull himself off the taller, nor did he need to. Soon enough, he felt something firm pressing into his lower back. The couch. Shit. He quickly tried to escape, only to get pinned back down to the couch. This time, Meis held him, and Gueira was the executioner. 

Meis had his back to the arm of the couch, his body turned and facing the other. Lio’s upper body lay between his legs; his arms holding him down. “Wrong answer,” Gueira stated as he went to grab an ankle. Lio wasn’t going to make it easy for the red head. He tried kicking him, shoving him, anything he could before he felt a motion on his stomach. 

Purple eyes crinkled shut as his back arched. A snort escaped his mouth before he bounced slightly in Meis’s hold. “Nhahahao sthahaop,” he whimper giggled. “Stop trying to worry about everyone. If we lived in our own city now, you’d be stressed non stop. You wouldn’t see your blue haired friend much, and we’d have to do this a lot more to get you to relax and calm your shit,” Meis whispered into the blonde’s ear. 

Slowly, Lio started to relax as the fingers stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say, just relaxing in his friend's legs. He felt his hair move from his face, Meis wasn’t sure what else to do. “You were right back then. We can’t run away and hide because we’re not wanted. We’re people too, not bugs. We need to stand our ground, and we are. You inspired us to do that Boss. What happens from here isn’t your issue, it’s not been. Your a great leader Boss, but you take too  much responsibility.” 

The words did touch the blonde but all he could do was try to think of lightening the room. “Says the guy who had too little as a leader.” Gueira gasped before digging into the thighs once more. “I get all sentimental for you, and this is what I get? You're lucky I don’t rip these things off you so you can feel the full wrath!”  Lio gauffed out a laugh, fully falling weak into the two’s attack. 

He hadn’t laughed so freely or so much in so long. Body parts flew as he wasn’t going to make this easy on the other two and a few revenge jabs were sent out here and there. 

“Yeah, thanks again Aina,” a voice came, slightly stirring Meis from his sleep. He glanced through half lidded eyes to the door to see the blue idiot. It didn’t fully register as he curled up to sleep more, pulling the weighted heat closer. 

“Oi Lio,” the voice called out rather loudly as the door shut. “I’m ba,” he froze. A hand covered his mouth as his eyes widened. Was he supposed to be seeing this? Meis was in the same position as the night before, his hands up Lio’s shirt for heat. Gueira’s face was facing Galo, eyes shut as he rested on Lio’s stomach; using him as a pillow. His arms were wrapped around the blonde that started to stir a bit. “Mmm?” Gueira grunted at the noise and movement as Meis sighed. “Your boyfriend’s home,” he grumbled before trying to fall back asleep again. “Mmm,” Lio groaned. 

Boyfriend?! Was he supposed to be seeing this? What happened last night? Galo placed his bag down before nodding and awkwardly leaving to sit outside until the others would awaken. He covered his blushing face; he felt like a peeping Tom or something!Well whatever they did, he hoped it helped his friend out of his funk.

[vierafication]

Last night around 4 am, I reblogged a certain post about "villainous rp" and added my own two cents to what had been discussed within it- mostly just venting about behavior I'd seen in the past. I didn't think much of it until I saw the next day it had been reblogged, and reblogged again, and again, by some folks who seemed pretty unhappy about what I'd said. I was told I needed to get a life, that I clearly can't separate IC and OOC, that maybe I shouldn't be writing at all. That hurt. I was irritated, then, feeling like I'd had words shoved in my mouth, like I was being purposefully misinterpreted. I typed up a clarification post explaining my previous points and pressed send, but it was seemingly ignored.

I talked with @damankjol about it later. He's the best, if you didn't know. And he rp's villains! I don't think he's a sociopath! He's very empathic and honest and understanding and cool, and he helped me realize that people weren't just angry at me, they were genuinely hurt by what I'd written. I went back and reread what I posted, as well as the responses, with a more critical eye. And... yeah. What I typed up wasn't clean, organized, or coordinated. I was venting and the tone that came off was irritated and rude. While not my intention, what I wrote sounded pretty fucking disrespectful and downright mean. And, frankly, my intentions don't matter, anyway, since I wasn't able to convey them properly. I just put some angry bullshit up on tumblr way too late at night, and I didn't expect anybody to even look at it, let alone reblog it- but I should have. Tumblr is a public platform and I should have approached my post the same way I'd approach any other one during the normal hours of the day. Thinking critically is always key, but audience is too- a vent post is a vent post, but I should have thought before I vented about a topic other people were sensitive to, and properly indicate specifics instead of vague generalizations. So, yes, I really wanted to apologize to anyone who that post hurt. I’m genuinely sorry. I should not have generalized like that. It wasn't even my intention in the first place. I was disrespectful and now that I think about it, incredibly hypocritical to boot. So yeah. I really am sorry. I respect @damankjol and @miqojak a lot as writers, and it would never be my intention to tear them down. Or anybody else, for that matter- rp only works when you rp with others, after all.

Once again, I'm sorry, and I hope you won't hate me for eternity or anything. Storytime and critical analysis under the cut.

One of my first, and worst, experiences in the ffxiv rp community was a good couple years ago. I was describing my character to a “friend,” and that character happened to be Lionnet Blodoint, my Ishgardian chirurgeon. Lionnet was not a good person by a long shot, to begin with, and from his time serving during the Dragonsong War, he’d developed quite a bit of PTSD relating to any and all things draconic. He hated dragons. He didn’t even like Au Ra. “Wow,” said the so-called friend at the time. “Your character is a nazi.”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. I tried to explain that he was NOT a nazi, he was just a traditionalist Ishgardian who hated dragons because they had been, at one point in time, absolutely hell-bent on destroying his home and everything he knew. I thought it was a pretty reasonable character trait to hate, or at least fear, dragons after serving in the Dragonsong War. The core of how I’d planned to develop him would be overcoming or at least coming to terms with his trauma, and no longer seeing it in every dragon or Au Ra he met. “No,” they said. “Your character is terribly written. They’re awful and nobody would ever want to rp with them. They’re boring because they’re so full of negative traits. They’re racist and thus, a nazi. And you are just as bad, because you’re defending them! You’re a nazi too!”

So yeah, they are NOT my friend anymore. But that whole convo really stuck with me, and I was afraid to bring out Lio afterwards- it took me another year before I actually began to use him in rp. And he turned out wonderful! His story became one of my favorite rp character stories of all time, and he had great relationship development and a happy ending. He’s still around, canonically, but I have a different main toon now.

So it shocks me that what that person told me about Lio is more or less the same as what I wrote in that post. I’m honestly dumbfounded at how I could just casually type that up and post it, when it draws so many parallels to the way I was bullied back then. So yeah. Huge hypocrisy right there. I swore to never act like that. And to an extent, I suppose I have. But that post I made was pretty fucking close- just directed at a vaguely generalized audience instead of a singular person and character. Maybe that’s actually worse. And I am sorry. I guess because it wasn’t directed at anyone but the void (even the op’s url doesn’t exist anymore), I just didn’t think about it. Which sounds like a lame-ass excuse, but... it’s true. I just wasn’t thinking. I was just venting. It’s really fucking with me that I could’ve hurt somebody so much completely unintentionally, to be honest.

So, what did I say- or, to be more clear, what was I attempting to say? What was my intention, and what wasn’t? I’m going to go over that now, more for my benefit than anyone else’s. Please note that I am not trying to make excuses or shove any blame elsewhere. I am just trying to clarify what I meant and address the issues that made my post so negative, for my own sake.

To begin, I’m gonna link this post by @lilac-memorials. It goes into detail about the trouble with “villain” discourse, and addresses a number of issues from a much more unbiased standpoint, far more eloquently than I could. Also, it seems to reference (the worse) parts of my posts at some points, or maybe I’m just paranoid. Regardless, it’s a much better post than the trainwreck that was the original one, and I agree with every bit of it. It also addresses the difference between a “villain” and an “antagonist,” which is something I attempted to go into but failed miserably.

Anyhoo. My post began with this paragraph:

Seriously. I do not trust anyone who refers to themselves as a “villain” rper. A character can take an antagonistic role in another character’s story arc, that’s fine, that works. It goes back to the “everyone is the hero of their own story” sorta thing. But playing a villain, only as a villain… what’s the point in that? It’s just someone roleplaying as an evil asshole that expects to be treated as stronger than other characters, expects to be feared. It reads like some twisted power fantasy. It doesn’t sound fun and it sure isn’t fun for the people rping with you. Like dude, calm down.

To begin with, yes, I am indeed a little distrustful of people who label their characters first and foremost as villains, before anything else. I am more suspicious of engaging in rp with them than I am with other types of characters, because I have seen some pretty crappy villains out and about and I just don’t wanna deal with that. Next, I go on to try to draw the line between a villain and an antagonist, and how I am much less suspicious of “antagonistic” characters than straight-up “villain” characters. “But playing a villain, only as a villain... what’s the point in that?” I ask. Very rudely. Insinuating that their is no point whatsoever in playing a villain. Which I didn’t intend to. But honestly, I don’t know how else that would’ve translated- I don’t know what I was thinking. I go on to describe this “villain” as somebody who is an evil asshole with a power fantasy, and how it ruins fun for anybody. Which can be read very easily as saying “all villains are like this.” No, they are not! I was describing the bad type of villain rper. The rper who “plays a villain, only as a villain,” and not as a character. Do you get what I mean now? The controlling, toxic, power-hungry rper that plays a villain as an outlet to be further controlling, toxic, and power-hungry, moreso than they ever could in reality. We all know that type of person exists. We’ve met them, somewhere. Sometimes they aren’t playing the villain at all, anyway. They’re playing the hero, or somebody else entirely. But here, I am just venting about that type of person. They are what my post is about. The key line should’ve been “playing a villain, only as a villain,” but it was shoved into a passive-aggressive question addressing self-worth instead of a proper sentence describing the difference between a well-written villain and a badly-written villain. And thus the post begins as if it had been rudely addressed to all villain rpers everywhere, labeling them as the evil asshole with a power fantasy, instead.

Next is: Anyway hot take but maybe the reason people kept trying to “redeem” and “change” OP’s character is because their character is boring af!

Yeahhhh, that one’s just mean. And, given the first paragraph, easily able to seen as an attack saying that if you are a villain rper, your character is boring af. They’re not! The op’s post is a little much, to be honest, and I guess I thought I was feeling spicy at 4 am. Now I think I must’ve just been being mean. Aurelia explains what’s wrong with the initial post here, though, instead of trying and failing to poke fun at it in that special pseudo-mean tumblr way like I did.

Lastly, Like, honestly! Play a character as a foil to another, play to fucked up ideas about morality, play an antagonist arc to a protagonist character, play a character who makes bad decisions. But don’t play a “villain.” Don’t play a character whose core personality traits are simply being cruel/evil. Don’t play a character whose sole focus is to kill npcs, be scary, and lord over other players’ characters. Don’t play a character who never develops or changes, and doesn’t facilitate change in other characters. Just don’t be an asshole edgelord. Don’t be flat and one dimensional. Don’t use rp to live out your fucked up power fantasy. Get therapy instead.

Honestly, I think this is the most clear part of my entire post, and also the worst, at the end there. I just am listing off behaviors that this figurative “bad villain rper” exhibits, and what offsets them. Play a villain that’s complex, had depth, nuance! I’m saying don’t play the “villain,” and then listing off what this specific hypothetical villain is. The opposite of deep and nuanced. The “bad villain rper” type the whole post is a vent about.

Then comes the dreaded “ Don’t use rp to live out your fucked up power fantasy. Get therapy instead. “ The villainous power fantasy. No, I do not think everyone who rp’s villains is like this. Yes, I believe there are people like this, who are INCREDIBLY few and far between, and if they solely use rp as an outlet to harass others both ICly and OOCly, that is bad! And maybe they should get help! And even, then, that was only half-serious! But therapy is a serious subject and I should have known better, and done better. Did all of that come off as intended? Hell no! Instead, it was the final nail in the coffin.

So! That’s what I was trying to say. Badly-written villains are a pain. If I had written up a post like I am now, with this long-ass thing, actually trying to be eloquent and clear. Not 4 am word vomit. This 4 am word vomit instead has gotten me to be read and interpreted as:

-being completely unable to separate character and player to the point where i think every villain’s player is a Real Life Bad Person and/or needs mental help

-saying all villains are boring because they’re not heroes, and thus are incapable of being complex and nuanced

-saying people who play dark/antagonistic characters are, in general, living out their fucked up power fantasy through them

-thinking that villainous characters are incredibly boring and just plain terrible

No! None of that is what I think! Absolutely none! I’m not going to go in and refute each of those claims, because, like I said, I’m not trying to make excuses here. But I WILL end this thing with what I do think of villainous characters and their players:

They’re fucking great, okay? A good story is made a gazillion times better by having a good villain in it, be the story a book, a movie, or an rp scenario. Well-written villain rpers are a TREASURE, and need to be appreciated! It is often harder to find rp with antagonistic toons, to begin with, and their players may find themselves getting shit on more often than others, which should absolutely not be the case. Characters that are complex and deep and nuanced are great no matter what their alignment is.

There ARE some pretty shitty villain rpers out there, too. And, in my own personal experience, they tend to be much more obnoxious than shitty hero rpers. A badly written hero will ruin a villain’s rp. A badly written villain may well try to ruin everybody around them’s rp.

Badly written villains suck. They’re the worst. And they make things worse for those that dedicate a lot of time and effort to crafting complex and cleverly written, compelling villains! Badly written villains are something I can and will complain about, just as well-written villains are something that I can and will praise. But I’ll try not to complain or vent on this platform anymore, to start.

And I do NOT blend IC and OOC. That’s the rper’s taboo! I will critique others who do it, though, which ironically is what I was sort of trying to do- complain about those specific villain players who do that. But anyway. If you’ve read this far, good for you! This has been way too long.

And. Please. If I do say or do something that hurts you in the future, regardless of what type of post it is, talk to me! Tell me what’s up! Thank you!

[dreamtofbluebirds]

For a Burnish to meld with a Burning Rescue team, a lot of hurdles laid in place. It didn’t make sense for so much of it to be torn down with the Second World Blaze--by all rights, it would’ve made sense if Captain Ignis had thrown him out of the garage the second Lio stepped foot in it. Gueira and Meis had tensed beside him as the stoic man stared, and Galo--forever heedless to any scrutiny though clearly a little unnerved if his higher pitch meant anything--prattled on about where everything was and what their morning routine was.

And then, just like that, Ignis was giving them temporary fire fighting outfits and going back to his office. Maybe the speechless way he accepted came off as unusual--his generals were asking him in a flash if any of this was actually okay.

Did they really belong here?

A few days passed and they would all be exchanging lively conversations in the break room. It wasn’t enough of a green light for him. He always had questions, and even if he knew most answers were obvious, it didn’t do well to always assume--something Galo was definitely teaching him to reach past. The answer wouldn’t come from Ignis--instead, it came from Aina one day, when the rest of the guys were sleeping off their shift.

She’d sat down next to him as he tinkered with one of the mechs. He had a basic idea of how they worked but fighting one and piloting one were different things. The instruction manual in his hands was... hardly a manual and more like Lucia’s overly-emphatic boasting about what it could do. Or, what it should do, but they’d already tested that some flames could still slice through if concentrated enough. Not many Burnish were as strong as Lio, and even fewer now that they were relearning how to summon the fire without the Promare, but was it really necessary to write it all down...?

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Her voice was soft. He’d almost excuse it as her trying not to wake anyone up, but they were mostly heavy sleepers and the garage was pretty decently isolated from the quarters... not that he doubted his generals would hear it if something happened. He must have looked confused because she continued. “It’s fine, we all struggled with Lucia’s instructions. I never was good at the mech part so I took overwatch.” Her thumb pointed toward the flying vehicle she took charge of.

“It can’t be that hard if Galo figured it out.” Lovingly stated, of course; she seemed to catch that despite how casually he tried to make it sound.

“Well, if her newest invention pays off, you’ll be able to pilot one of these with your flames only. It’ll be like a miniature Deus Ex Machina.” She giggled.

“Don’t remind me of those crazy names.” The manual was tossed aside.

“It could be worse. She could strap you in with Galo.”

Honestly, he felt a bit offended at how sly how expression became. “No. And he’s able to handle himself.”

As though this exchange had gotten the slightest bit awkward, Aina waved off the topic and switched gears. “Yeah, he’s surprisingly good at that. He’s always getting into trouble yet he somehow stays out of it on his time off.” Her expression seemed... almost distant.

“...Is something bugging you?” He could only hope he didn’t sound annoyed. No, her company wasn’t really bothering him right now.

Driving straight to the point seemed to take her off guard a bit. “Oh uh, well... Boy, you make it hard to beat around the bush, haha...” She’d drop her chin and sigh, and he considered that she may have been about to tell him she couldn’t stand his face on the team. “...I’ve been thinking.”

Had to be.

“Galo always wanted to make someone proud of him. That person was you-know-who, for as long as I’ve known him. But he never really... got anything, then we found out everything and yeah.”

Lio’s whole body tensed. He could feel the fire on his tongue at the mere hint of that man, but he bit it back, smothering it to keep it under control.

“And you have every right to be pissed about it. But I mean--oh god, this is awkward.” She put her head in her hands. Whatever she was trying to say, it seemed... difficult to.

“Why are you bringing it up?”

“Because he practically adores you and I’ve never seen him happier!” Her words burst out. “Like, I know that’s probably obvious and all, but I mean--he was really happy when he joined the team too but it always felt like something was missing. We all chalked it up to him just not having family to go back to and... maybe we were like a family to him.”

“I... figured as much. Losing family stays with you.”

“If almost losing them is anything like it, yeah, I bet it does.” Her hand clutched at her pants leg. “Augh, this is all coming out wrong. Anyway, you’re family too... alright?”

Lio had expected some sort of previous-crush confession for Galo, or at best, a simple ‘don’t you dare hurt him’, but this? He choked on his words, amethyst eyes going wide. “I really don’t understand.”

“I know, I don’t either! But for some reason it feels like you’ve always been on this team. You and Geira and Meis. It’s almost uncanny, really. You and Galo are so much more alike than I’d have thought when we first saw you. So I just...” She bit her lip. “If... you also feel like you’re alone. You’re not, okay? We’re a team now.”

Her eyes shined with an intensity he had seen so many times on on the Burnish. Passion, lighting up their very soul. Her face suddenly twisted into one of concern, and he noticed--belatedly--that something was running down his cheek.

“I came off too strong, didn’t I?”

“...A bit, yes.” He’d wipe away the evidence. Family... He’d given up on that concept long ago when he’d lost his parents. To have it now, here of all places--it seemed unreal. More unreal than a giant fire-mech punching the planet. He’d just been hoping they would tolerate him, not truly accept him. Were they really not holding their tongues just because of Galo? Was it all genuine...? He took a steady breath and allowed himself to open up. “When the Burnish find their flames, we watch our families fall apart or we... hurt someone else’s. Those first few minutes were terrifying for us and the promare and it didn’t get any better, we just got better at moving. Children who awakened to it lost their parents quickly. I was the same.” He couldn’t bring himself to be more specific. “We live the rest of our lives believing that there is no happy ending for us, and certainly no family to return to. It... means a lot to me to hear that.” He’d do his best to catch her gaze and hold it, hoping to convey something in it.

“Come here.” She didn’t quite ask, but she also moved slowly enough he could have stopped her. He’d find himself staring at her shoulder, warm arms wrapped around his small frame. “You deserve to be happy, too.”

For once in his life, he believed it.

[b-witchered]

6, 19, 32, 45

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

adfsgDFSGHF a tall task considering I hop from fandom to fandom like i’m pinballing through life smh though admittedly my number of otps are,,, small. i’m an open shipper lmao i don’t often have a one true anything

HMMMM. I’m quite fond of Aizawa and Present Mic from bnha? Geralt and Jaskier of course, though I can be persuaded to Yennefer/Geralt/Jaskier. UM. manolo/joaquin/maria from the book of life was a thing for a while. UHHH from ye olde naruto phase, Kakashi and Gai. Jon/Martin from TMA. Lio/Galo from Promare. what other fandoms am i even in.

asdfsSFDGH THIS IS HARD i usually don’t have strong feelings about ships,, the aroace in me is popping off i guess. if anything most of my feelings about ships can be summarized as “but what about the plot” unless i’m really feeling it

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them?

This happens to me a lot tbh, it’s inconvenient. But uhhhhhh I can’t get behind zutara from atla and there are so many zutara fics. They could be amazing but i’d never know because I can’t get behind them!! Inconvenient smh

32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band or genre of music does it for you?

Sometimes!! honestly I usually just play whatever earworm I have going on, or whatever song i have going through my head. Recently it’s been either sinners by lauren aquilina, the playlist of scottish/irish folk music i have, and ‘sea shanties for thots’ playlist from spotify

take from that what you will

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic?

hhhhhhhhhhhh I am an absolute sucker for Embers by vathara (an atla fic), honestly. It’s a fic I’ve read multiple times (which is a feat considering it sits at a hefty 704k words and 91 chapters).

Close runner up would probably be yesterday upon the stair by pitviperofdoom (a bnha fic) which I read as it was updating and was on the absolute edge of my seat the entire time. 10/10 loved every bit of it

And then it hasn’t actually been published but anyone who enjoys star wars should check out anabasis by fialleril !! They’ve posted a lot of snippets as they write and are also responsible for the double agent vader series on ao3 which I greatly enjoy. Honestly check out their blog anyway if you enjoy star wars, they do a lot of really interesting stuff with culture, especially regarding tattooine

I also love a lot of Shanastoryteller’s work - I could read gods and monsters (greek myth retellings) a dozen times and never get times of it tbh. 

you expected one answer and got me rambling lmao but it’s haRD TO PICK JUST ONE

[ladylooch]

Hiiii! 👀

Could you write about T&Em first time after one of the babies? The 6 weeks of waiting must have been crazy! Ily 😘

-💜

A/N: First I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!! Okay, now I can focus on writing this… I am using after Emma gave birth to Liv here. Because I feel with the twins they waited longer than 6 weeks and Emma had a “get the fuck away from me” mindset ☠️🤣

“How are you feeling?” Emma’s doctor asks as she is washing her hands in the sink.

“Great.” Emma responds cheerily. She truly is feeling well, which made the 6 week rule feel harder than she remembered it being with Lio. 

“And Livia is good?” 

“Yes! We are thinking of keeping her.” Emma jokes. 

“Ha! Good! How is Lio? You can lay down.” She says as she comes to her stool. 

“He’s… adjusting? Not quite used to sharing our attention.” Emma admits as she lays back. After two babies and countless doctors, nurses, and med students looking at her giving birth, having her feet in stirrups no longer phases her. 

“All normal. How is Timo? Boys are playing well.”

“Very well. We are looking forward to playoffs.” 

“Great! Well…” She pauses. “I am going to give you the green light here. Everything looks good. You’re feeling good. You have your birth control going?”

“Popping them like mints.” Emma chuckles. 

“I can’t remember, did you want to do an IUD again?”

“Um, I don’t think so. We are going to try to stick with the pill for now. Having a different brand and dosage makes me comfortable with going back after Lio.”

“Okay. Well if you change your mind, give us a call. Have a great day. Thanks for the pictures of Livia!” 

Emma quickly hustles to change back into her work outfit. She has an hour to get 16 blocks, but she isn’t quite sure if that’s going to cut it. She stuffs her heels in her bag as she walks out of the clinic, opting instead for her sneakers. On her way to the event center, she sends Timo a quick text.

You may pass go tonight.

Her husband’s internal response? Fuck waiting until tonight.

- - - 

Emma is hustling up to her office to go answer some emails she had been reading through on her phone. The event downstairs is going well and the assistant event planner had everything covered in the main space, leaving Emma to focus on the next event happening this weekend. Emma pushes the door open to the office suite, then heads to the water cooler to refill her water bottle. She takes a big chug, then almost chokes at the shadow of someone in her office. 

But she has nothing to worry about. Leaning against her desk is Timo Meier. He’s in one of his game day suits, his bare ankles crossed together, hands stuffed into the pockets of his blue, pinstripe suit. 

“Ah… hi.” Emma is breathless in the doorway. She glances over to where her window shades are drawn, looking out into the rest of the office. They are normally open. “What’s up? Are the babies okay?”

“They are.” Timo murmurs, not moving from where he is. 

“Timo.” Emma begins to shake her head. “We can’t.”

“Sh.” He cuts her off briskly. “Shut the door.” He tosses two finger in a backwards motion. She doesn’t move. Timo sighs, standing up, walking towards her. He towers over her as he reaches beyond her, putting his hand on the side of the door. “If you seriously don’t want to do this, you can walk out this door right now. No questions asked.” It’s the way he allows her to make a dash for it that has Emma’s inner muscles clenching.

“If I stay?”

“We are going to fuck the pictures off your desk again.” Emma moans, pushing Timo’s chest to knock him back towards the point of discussion. Timo startles back, blue eyes going wide with excited surprise. “That’s my girl.” He catches her as she leaps towards him. He hoists her up on his chest, bringing a hand to her ass to hold her up. “Finally going to give you a proper thank you for my perfect, baby girl.”

“I shouldn’t like that sentence.”

“Yeah you should. You’ve been so good to me. Now I’m going to be good to you.”

Emma can’t help but whimper as he sets her down on her desk. He sits on her office chair. Heavy inhales have her lips quivering as Timo runs his finger tips up her thighs.

“Can I taste you?” Emma nods earnestly. “Nipples?” 

“No.”

“How deep?”

“We will play it be ear.”

“Okay.” His fingers dart under her skirt, hooking around her panties and pulling them off. They’re red, a bit see through but a distinct, wet trail has dampened the fabric. Timo grins.

“You know I was coming?”

“I figured.” She admits, working her way back to rest her weight on the heels of her hands behind her. She brings her leg up to his shoulder, then hooks her ankle around the back of his head to bring him closer to her core. He laughs wickedly, then dives tongue first into her heat. 

Every stoke of Timo’s tongue against her folds has Emma trembling against the glass top of her desk. His big hands come round her hips, pulling her by her ass to his mouth. His tongue works and slurps her clit, like it’s a dripping ice cream cone he wants every drop of.

“Ohmygod.” Emma breathes out. The words shake in her mouth. “Yes. More.” She begs. He adds a suction to his mouth. “Oh yep, right there.” She nods frantically, reaching for his hair and holding him to her. “Don’t stop. Please Baby. Oh… my… Yes!” She squeaks out a needy whine as she comes on his face. 

Her orgasm washes over her folds, dampening her more until Timo isn’t sure what is from her or his mouth. He kisses her clit, causing her to jolt. He stands from the chair, kicking it back and out of the way as he reaches for his belt. He pops it open, staring down at Emma’s drunk daze with hot, burning desire. He is going to have to restrain himself from fucking her hard. 

“Tell me how to take you.” He drags a thick digit through her soaked folds, adoring the way she pushes into him. She’s ready again. 

“From behind.” He nods, then gently glides his middle finger into her entrance. She moans, fluttering around the appendage, desperate for more. “Babe, help me up.” He takes her hands, satisfied with how wobbly she stands on her heels. He steadies her, hands at her hips, then turns them. He presses down on her back, falling in love with her again as she looks back at him over her shoulder. 

He works himself out of his pants, giving two pumps of his shaft, squeezing the tip too as he folds her skirt up her back. He puts a guiding hand on her ass, then the other at the bottom of his shaft.

“Are you on the pill?” He asks, pausing at her entrance. He is pretty sure he saw her take it this morning.

“Yes.” She is croaky. Just how he likes her. 

He puts the tip of his dick against her, practically falling over at how good her wet pussy feels around his cock. 

“Mmm.” He moans profoundly as he pushes in. He removes his hand from his shaft, gripping her other hip to pull her completely down on him. Emma turns to jello against the desk. She has a sharp inhale of breath. “Okay?” He pauses.

“Move, T. I’m begging. Will do anything for you to fuck me harder. Please.” Timo’s eyes widen, then his balls tighten at her needy pleads. 

“Anything?” He teases, easing out, then pressing back in. Her moan is louder this time. “Will you scream my name when you cum?” He asks her. She nods, reaching back around to grip his bare ass with her hand. She digs her red fingernails into his thick cheek, encouraging him deeper. He picks a consistent tempo, but three strokes in, he knows he’s not going to last much longer. She feels too good and begs him for more with each thrust. Fuck holding back, she’s okay. Off he goes. Timo’s balls slap hard against Emma’s folds as he rails into her. She puts more pressure into her finger nails.

“Oh…..” She grits her teeth. “Timo, fuck.” She wails. Goosebumps protrude out of her skin, puckering her nipples in her bra as he takes her hard and deep. He slaps her ass firmly, leaving a stinging behind as that pushes her over the edge. Emma comes hard around Timo. He coughs at her fluttering then releases his load inside her dripping heat. 

“Oh my god.” Timo moans as he finishes. “Perfect. Your pussy is perfect, baby.” He assures her. 

Timo puts himself back into his underwear. He redoes his belt as Emma takes a chance to recover. Her pictures are strewn about the office again, making her purse her lips against a laugh. She feels Timo crouch behind her. He lifts one Louboutin pump, then the other, dragging her panties back into place. Then, he pulls her skirt back down, giving her ass a greedy grope. 

“Good as new.” He hauls her up flush against his chest. She melts into him for a moment. “See you at home for round two?” He trails his finger tips up her stomach, resting beneath her breasts.

“Mhm.”

“Have a good event, baby.” He kisses her throat, dragging his teeth over until he leaves a mark. Good thing Emma has make up in her bag. Although, she thinks that may have been her husband’s point. 

Once Emma is steady on her feet, Timo walks to the door, opening and turning to toss her a kiss before he disappears completely. 

“I love you, Mrs. Meier!” He calls out to her as he leaves her office suite. 

Emma giggles, then gets started on putting everything back together, including herself.

[gottachangelove]

Surprised? I Think Not.

Pairings: Avengers x OC, (Platonic) Nick Fury x OC, Clint Barton x Daughter!OC.

Summary: After three of years of no Avengers to protect the Earth, Fury thinks it's time to add or form another team of superheroes to protect the planet they live in. But he also thinks it's time to unravel the secrets he's been keeping after all this years.

Warnings: I think the only thing needed to warn you about is my bad writing.

AN: This takes place after the Endgame. Also in this story, Clint doesn't have a wife. And this is not requested because I'm new here and I think no one really knows who I am.

Three years was all it took for Fury to have the courage to call a meeting for the Avengers, three years for the team to see each other since Natasha and Tony's funeral. And now they're here, surrounding a round table with Fury in front. Some were standing like T'Challa, Sam, Strange and Wong. While the others were sitting like Clint, Pepper and Azelia.

This meeting will be the first and the last time they will be complete so it was essential for someone, let's say a relative agent to take a dead Avenger's place, just like Azelia taking her mother's place, which was Natasha and Pepper taking Tony's place while Bucky took Steve's.

The meeting was scheduled to start minutes ago but Fury was waiting for someone to take his prized agent's place, Aurelia Carbonell.

*

Fury watched a little girl running around Howard Stark's office with a smile.

"Now Relia don't trip on anything." Howard told the child.

The girl giggled and replied, "Don't worry Uncle Howie! I won't break anything! I know how much your work means to you and Tones."

Howard nodded to the little girl and continued to talk to Fury about the new weapons he was making for the Agents. But Fury didn't pay attention to the man and continued to look at the girl who stopped running when Tony Stark, Howard and Maria's son, went inside the room.

Howard stood up when he saw his son enter and left saying that the conversation between him and Fury would be continued later. When Howard left with Tony the girl started running again.

Only when the girl tripped did Fury stand up and helped the poor girl, who in Fury's surprise didn't even cry.

"Are you alright?" Fury helped the girl sit.

"Yeah! Uncle Howie always told me that if I wanted to be an Agent here at SHIELD I shouldn't cry over some silly bruise!" The girl smiled up at him.

"So you want to work here huh?" Fury took a seat beside the little girl.

The girl nodded and examined the man next to her.

"So.. What's your name?" The girl asked Fury.

"Nicholas Fury, but everyone calls me Nick," Fury answered the girl, "but what's your name and how old are you?"

"Aurelia. My name is Aurelia Colline Carbonell! And I'm 10!" The girl stuck her hand out to shake the man's hand.

Fury shook Aurelia's hand and then he knew that he would do anything to protect this girl's innocence from now on.

*

Pepper noticed Fury's gaze at the empty chair so she decided to raise her hand and offer to take Aurelia's place just like she took Tony's. After all she was family.

"Maybe I should take-"

"That's not quite necessary Mrs. Stark." Phil Coulson entered and cut off the blonde's offer.

"Fury." Phil nodded at Fury who returned his gesture.

"So is she with you?" Everyone's head snapped up at the Director's question.

Coulson stepped aside and nudged a girl forward. Now everyone is looking at the girl with confusion.

"Ah, Agent Collins didn't think you would make it." Clio smiled at Fury's greeting and replied, "Clio, it's Clio, Director Fury." She corrected him while walking towards her mother's seat.

"Hi Pep." Clio greeted her Aunt with a smile.

"Hey kiddo, I didn't think you would make it." Pepper smiled and greeted her.

"Yeah well Uncle Phil thought that maybe this isn't the right time to introduce me to everybody." Clio smiled at her Aunt.

"Hey Lio!" A voice next to Clio disrupted the Aunt and Niece conversation.

Clio rolled her eyes at the ridiculous nickname and replied, "Well hello dear Lia Romanoff." She sickeningly smiled at the girl.

"Oh puh-lease! You just miss me!" Lia ruffled Clio's neat braids, who in return smacked her hands away with a pout.

"Don't touch my hair!" She crossed her arms.

Clio noticed the stares that she was getting so she decided to clear her throat.

"So, let's start the meeting. Shall we?" Clio raised her eyebrow at Fury.

Fury shook his head with a smile and started the meeting. At the middle of the meeting Clio couldn't stand the stares she was getting so she stood up.

"Okay! I know exactly why you're all staring at me but please! I can't stand another pair of eyes looking at me like I'm going to catch on fire or something!" Clio's eyes were ablazed with annoyance.

Fury, who was obviously familiar with the girl's melt downs, introduced the girl to everyone inside the room.

"Everyone, this is Clio Aquila Carbonell-Barton. Aurelia and Barton's daughter." Fury pointed to Clio.

"Now can we continue the meeting?" Fury asked and was answered with silence.

"I'll take that as a yes." Fury started to talk, not even caring if anyone was listening to him.

[marshmallowgoop]

What Kumoricon’s Promare Panel Told Me About Kill la Kill

[This post was originally written as a Twitter thread. The Promare cosplay image above was posted on Studio Trigger’s Twitter account.]

Now that NaNo is over, I can finally work on my Kumoricon Promare panel write-up without feeling guilty, but tbh, it might just be another project that never happens. There's also an excellent, beautifully detailed report you can already read right here!

I got my degree in creative writing, not journalism, so my intentions for my own report was (is?) to be on the more personal side. There is a lot I want to analyze and discuss about what was said at the panel, and since I've also had the opportunity to attend three other Promare-y panels in the past couple of years, I've wanted to combine info and sum up what I know.  

Like I said, it might never happen. But there is one thing I do really wanna get out there. And that's what the Kumoricon Promare panel told me about Kill la Kill.

Near the start of the panel, it was mentioned that an early concept for Promare involved a human befriending a fire creature. Through their friendship, the two would be able to fuse together into one entity. The panelists explicitly made a comparison to Kill la Kill here: just as Kill la Kill is focused on the friendship between a human and sentient clothes, Promare was imagined as a story focused on the friendship between a human and sentient flames.

However (and minor Promare spoilers to follow)....

As the panel progressed, it was revealed that this original concept was transformed into the Promare we know now. It was said that collaborations between director Hiroyuki Imaishi and writer Kazuki Nakashima work best when focused on human connections, not connections between humans and creatures. 

The duo's earlier work in Gurren Lagann and Kill la Kill were mentioned. Gurren Lagann was described as a "boy meets boy" story (presumably with Simon meeting Kamina), and Kill la Kill was described as a "girl meets girl" story (presumably with Ryuko meeting Satsuki).

Which threw me for a loop! Wasn't it stated only minutes before that Kill la Kill is indeed focused on the connection between a human and a creature? Isn't it all about the friendship between a human and her sentient clothes?

I've written a lot in the past that as much as I love Kill la Kill, its intentions have felt confused and unfocused. This Promare panel validated those feelings. There is a clear tension here. Is Kill la Kill's focal relationship the one shared between Ryuko and Senketsu? Or is it the one shared between Ryuko and Satsuki?

In my earlier writing on Promare, I argued that the film essentially combines the Senketsu and Satsuki character into one. 

And Kumoricon's Promare panel? Well, let's just say that I think the info supplied very much supports my theory. 

Promare's concept went from a human befriending a fire creature to a human befriending a human who had merged with a fire creature. In this way, Galo and Lio's dynamic still has a lot of the same elements as a "human meets creature"-type story. Lio's fire powers mean that many view him as not human. Plus, despite noting that the "boy meets flame" concept was scrapped, a spread in PASH! magazine seems to say otherwise:

Further, like the "human meets creature" story in Kill la Kill, Galo and Lio also "synchronize" and fight as one—an act even Galo describes as the combining of "oil and water." Following the rules of their world, it's a partnership that shouldn't happen. But it does.

And just as Ryuko and Senketsu use their partnership to save the planet, so too do Galo and Lio. In fact, Lio de Galon was even confirmed in a live-drawing session to purposely resemble Kamui.

But Lio has something Senketsu doesn't: a human appearance. While Promare feels very much to me like a "human meets creature" story, it's kind of not because the Burnish are just regular humans who suddenly got fire superpowers. It's not like being born a magical talking shirt.

And on that note, I can see why Promare was changed. There are similarities between Senketsu and Lio, but unlike Lio, Senketsu is easily the most ignored main character in Kill la Kill. I even received nasty messages for comparing the two and their relationships with the hero, which is maybe sadly funny in retrospect, considering that the creative team behind both works have noted this connection explicitly. 

But in any case, the drafted fire creature had the appearance of a cute, mascot-type character, maybe not too unlike Senketsu. 

And that's... not usually the type of character who's half of the focal relationship of a work. It's hard to take seriously. Believe me, I understand this well. 

So, Promare changed. It's ultimately about the bond between Galo and Lio, a human and a human, just as Kill la Kill could be argued—and in fact was argued at the panel!—to be ultimately about the bond between Ryuko and Satsuki, both humans themselves.

And unlike with Ryuko and Senketsu, I think comparisons of the Galo-Lio relationship and the Ryuko-Satsuki relationship have been widely recognized. You know, it's that whole rivals-to-friends/lovers deal. The character archetypes are similar, too: Galo is very much the impulsive Red Oni to Lio's (mostly) calmer Blue Oni, just as Ryuko is the rash Red Oni to Satsuki's calculating Blue Oni.

This post's a little all over the place, but as much as I adore Senketsu and Satsuki and would never wish for either of their characters to be sacrificed in a reboot or alternate telling of Kill la Kill, I think Promare did the right thing by essentially combining those roles.

And I mean, kinda literally, too! The human Lio fused with the sentient fire creature, and it's the fused-human and human relationship that became the core of the work. 

The resulting film thus lacks the tension that Kill la Kill has. Our attention is not split between a "human meets creature" story and a "human meets human" story. As far as I know, there aren't the same conflicting statements from the staff, either, with director Imaishi arguing that the focus is the drama between the human leads and writer Nakashima noting, "You could say that Kill la Kill tells the story of a lonely young woman meeting and losing an irreplaceable partner" in the Kamui Bansho. 

With Promare, I think everyone agrees. It's all about Galo and Lio. There is no debate. Promare is focused in a way that Kill la Kill ain't. 

And I get why Promare changed in development the way it did to give it that clarity. But I also think (obviously!) that Trigger made a fantastic "human meets creature" narrative with Kill la Kill.

In fact, it's my complete and total infatuation with that narrative that got me to the Promare panel at all. I never went to cons before I fell in love with Kill la Kill, and my love for Kill la Kill literally stems from this one frame of Ryuko hugging Senketsu, which I think I made a pretty amusing Tweet about:

Tweet transcription: For real though this one frame made me fall so in love with Kill la Kill that I have since written over half a million words about it, spent like $2,000 on merchandise, and edited like 2,000 GIFs.

Yes, I am really THAT emotional about a girl hugging her sailor uniform.

So, needless to say, I support Nakashima's desire for "human meets creature" stories. I can't speak for anyone else, but it is the "human meets creature" aspect of Kill la Kill that affected me more than anything else about it. I think it's something Trigger should be proud of.

And I would love to see more of those types of stories from the studio—especially if the creature in question doesn't resemble a human! People don't have to look alike for their love to be strong and real, and stories focusing on that... well. They're the reason for this essay.

[dikiyvter]

UNPROMPTED./ @cynicalartisan​:

A soft hum leaves the blacksmith as smirks up at his beloved, eyes half-lidded as he grabs the lapels of his coat and pulls him toward him. "... come. Follow me," the words are cooed softly, indicating something is at play. It's when they approach his forge that he takes out a measuring tape. "Stay still as I measure you." Measurements are taken as he hums, writing down the numbers, grabbing a stool when needed for with the height difference. It is only when he starts measuring his neck and shoulders that Lio finally says something.

"... remember that fantasy you divulged to me a while back. About perhaps... roleplaying in certain situations? I wouldn't be averse to that. I thought... since I have enough ore this time... I can get to work on creating you a special set of armor... solely for our sessions." He licks his lips, nearing his for a moment as his own lips ghost Riga's.

"... oh, how I would love for you to take me in such a suit of armor... and do whatever you wish to me... me, being completely at your disposal... helpless to whatever whims you have with me... how delicious..."

       PRIOR TO LIO, Rigatello had, admittedly . . . not been the most promiscuous individual. Rarely was he one to engage much in VICE; Playing a being drunk had never appealed to him. Temptations of the flesh were something far removed from his mind when he was so fixated on work. But Lio had changed many things in Rigatello’s life, and this . . . this was one of them. Given the room and the go-ahead to do so, the automaton had discovered MANY new things about himself.

              Many . . . many new things.

       Obediently does he follow through on Lio’s little commands, tone heard and understood more than well enough and he is EAGER to see where it leads, any work he may have been doing before be damned. Amusement inches onto his expression bit by bit as his measurements are taken. Had he. . . misread the earlier tone, perhaps? Maybe his little love was taking up an interest in sewing. Scraping his mind for any reason why Lio might be doing such a thing. . . 

       Eyes widen somewhat, that noticeable little SPARK of intrigue that blossoms so very quickly. He arrives quick to the conclusion just as Lio begins to speak. Yes. . . Rigatello can recall that particular fantasy with EASE. It wasn’t entirely often he spoke of such things, not entirely one to divulge every little interest of his ╾ But it was no mere little interest. 

              It had been on his mind for . . . A LONG while. Since he had begun to discover he quite liked to play in the realm of less. . . reality-driven dynamics.

       Just barely does he manage to keep control over himself, to keep from closing the gap between them with a feral kiss. Instead he reaches out, de-clawed hands gripping firmly at Lio’s hips, holding him  there, holding him close. With the little half-oni so very close to him he can feel in full their difference in height, how even WITH the stool he needs to lower his head a bit to be so close to his love’s lips.

       It takes far more self-control to reign back in thoughts that turn most DEVIOUS. A self control Lio clearly does not have, but, well. . . Riga’s smile if soft, and nothing but utterly amused. When he finally leans forward the rest of the way the kiss that he gives Lio is a gentle one, and terribly brief. 

       “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he mumbles softly, just barely pulling away, not wanting to do so despite knowing he should. “Let’s finish this first, and then we can move on to the fun part, alright?”

[cryptixcreations]

Trying to figure out stuff that happened off-screen in the Masks game and wound up writing ~900 words between Lio and The Spectre

Tried to write Specs the way the GM played him so he’s kind of a douche

also realized, not for the first time, that my writing is way too context-dependent, holy shit, none of this is gonna make sense to anyone but I’m sticking it here for posterity anyway

"He's not here."

The girl looked up.

At the moment, she didn't look like a girl. Her features and build were open to interpretation. Her short hair shone with brilliantine. Dressed in carefully tailored evening suit, she looked the part of a clean-cut young man-about-town. There was no shortage of such idlers about the lobby of the upscale El Cortez hotel.

Still, he thought of her as the girl. Or the counterfeit. Probably he should address that.

She almost managed to hide her surprise. She didn't do so well with her irritation. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said, her low pitch just a little forced. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes. You." He extended a hand. His ring was turned towards his palm, sparks of red and blue glowing from the opal's inky depths. She had already recognized him, of course. The token meant more than identification. Her hand moved towards her sternum where a matching opal rested, hidden. "This place is guarded. If he returns, he'll be seen and I--" he paused. "And we will be notified. Will you join me for dinner?"

She eyed his hand. He didn't blame her for her suspicion. They'd met only a few times and he had treated her poorly.

In his defense, her being his great-granddaughter from the year 2017 was still an utterly absurd concept. For many reasons. Just because he had to now accept it as truth didn't mean he had to like it.

"He can shapeshift," she pointed out.

"Which means my people will have as much chance of recognizing him as you."

She sighed. "Fair point." Setting aside her newspaper, she rose, without his help. "Lead on."

On her feet, the girl was nearly as tall as he was. It was one of many ways that she almost resembled him. No one would look at the two and take them for family. Even she admitted their genetic relationship was dubious to nonexistent. Yet there were little things, now that he looked for them, little sparks of familiarity. David's sadness. Evie's stubbornness. His own eyes.

Lio, he'd heard her friends call her, before correcting themselves to L'Esprit. Lio suited her. He supposed, grudgingly, that L'Esprit suited her too.

Once they were settled in the waiting limousine and on their way to Maskelyne's club, Lio spoke again. "Thanks for the suit. It fits really well."

"You're welcome."

"How are the funeral arrangements?"

"Everything is being taken care of. It will be held in a few days, before you leave for New Jersey."

"Good. Joey will be glad to hear that." She took a breath. Her voice softened. "I'm sorry. About Katiana."

There it was, again, another familiar spark: the tone of voice David used when he blamed himself for something. Relation or not, she was more like David than was healthy. He took a gamble.

"What happened to her before?"

"Before?" She blinked at him. Understanding dawned. "Oh." Her gaze dropped. "I don't really remember. I think... I think Altaa traded her to some criminal organization. You wrote the name in Russian, I couldn't read it."

She tried, she really did, to pronounce a half-remembered word in a language she didn't know. He couldn't help but laugh and suggest another, vaguely -- very vaguely -- similar word.

She winced. "Maybe?"

He sobered as he said, "Very likely. I've dealt with them. Suffice it to say that they are not kindly disposed toward nobility. She had three years she wouldn't have had otherwise."

"That's good," Lio murmured. She didn't believe him.

The car pulled to a stop, the doorman opening the door with a "Good evening, Mister Maskelyne." Lio followed in brooding silence. He let the silence remain until they were seated in the grill room.

"Lio. Is that short for something?"

She looked up at the sound of her name, seemed to think for a long minute, then answered, "Yes."

"What is it?"

She hesitated.

"Nevermind. Let's try a different question. Why didn't you show me your necklace three years ago?"

Her knuckles brushed her silk tie. "I... was afraid you'd take it. Or attack me. Or both." Reasonable -- he had attacked her -- but there was more to it. He waited. "And I didn't want to change things too much." She chuckled; a small, rueful sound. "See how well that turned out."

He waited.

Her gaze drifted up and locked with his. She knew what he was doing; she was deciding whether she would let it work. It struck him again that she had his eyes. Deep brown, almost black, but glowing from deep within. No wonder Almaa had recognized those eyes.

"It's Vespertilio."

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"My name. It's Vespertilio. One of your grandchildren or grand-in-laws will be very into bats and Latin. What else do you want to know?"

It was a risk, but he had to ask. "What changed your mind?"

She shrugged. "The course of history is already broken. I don't know if I'll get another chance to fix it, or even if I could. With my luck I'd make it worse. All I want at this point is to make sure that our family is safe, and the best way I can do that is to arm you with information. So. What do you want to know?"

"Our family," he repeated, trying out the words. The Spectre smiled. "Why don't we start there?"