#a cultural reference from a place your not familiar with and it comes off as very condescending' kind of way.

[neighbourhoodtwo]

devasting! the online fanbase for this british show is overwhelmingly american

[goldsainz]

# FC43 — NAVIDAD, DULCE NAVIDAD !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ you spend christmas with franco and his family on their farm.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ lots of argentinian food references.

003. NOTE !

✯ this has been the funnest of all the parts to write, simply because it’s the closest to my christmas experience. i kinda went overboard with all the food references, but it’s my culture and i’m proud of it yk?

word count : 1,8k

As the sun sets over the wide, open fields of the farm, the air fills with the rich aroma of the asado cooking on the grill. Smoke rises in gentle swirls, carrying the scent of sizzling chorizos and perfectly seasoned steaks. Franco moves with ease among his family, greeting relatives with cheek kisses and exchanging cheerful banter. He laughs easily, his relaxed demeanor infectious, and yet, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes find yours amidst the bustling activity. The warmth of the glowing fairy lights draped across the wooden beams of the patio matches the joy in his dark eyes whenever he looks your way.

The night hums with the sound of acoustic guitar, Franco’s cousin leads the music with lively claps, encouraging others to join in. Laughter bubbles around the long wooden table, where plates of empanadas, chimichurri-drenched meats, and bowls of creamy ensalada rusa are passed from hand to hand. Glasses of malbec and sparkling cider clink together in cheerful toasts. Franco’s family welcomes you with open arms, their warmth and humor making you feel as though you’ve been part of these celebrations forever.

“Come on, sing with me!” Franco's cousin calls out, grinning at you. “Don’t be shy—Franco’s been bragging about how good your voice is.”

You laugh nervously, glancing at Franco, who shrugs with a sheepish smile. “I might have mentioned it,” he says, his tone teasing.

Before you can respond, Franco’s mum appears, balancing a tray of freshly baked pan dulce. Her warm eyes crinkle with a smile as she sets it down on the table. “So, this is the one who’s stolen Franco’s attention,” she says, her tone playful but kind. She places a hand on your arm, her touch light and reassuring. “He talks about you all the time, you know.”

“Mamá,” Franco groans, his ears turning red as his mum chuckles.

“Don’t ‘Mamá’ me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at her son before turning back to you. “I’m glad he brought you here. It’s not easy to keep up with him, but it’s clear you’ve done a good job.”

You smile, feeling the warmth in her words. “Thank you for having me. Everyone’s been so welcoming—it’s easy to see why Franco loves it here.”

She nods, her expression softening. “Family is everything to us. And anyone Franco cares about becomes part of our family too.”

The guitar music shifts to a softer tune, and Franco’s cousin calls out again. “Alright, enough talking! Join in already!” He strums a familiar melody, and the group begins singing along, their voices weaving together like an impromptu choir.

Franco leans closer to you, his voice low. “If you sing, I’ll sing too,” he offers with a grin. “But I can’t promise I’ll be in tune.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly. “Deal. But don’t blame me if everyone starts covering their ears.”

As the evening wears on, Franco’s cousin pulls you both into the group, his energy contagious. You find yourself singing, clapping, and laughing alongside the family, the warmth of their joy wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Even Franco, who earlier seemed content to stay in the background, joins in with an endearingly off-key enthusiasm that leaves everyone in fits of laughter. His mum watches from the side, her eyes glowing with pride as she sees her son so happy.

Later, as you sit down with a plate of dessert, Franco’s cousin plops down next to you, holding a bottle of beer. “So,” he says with a sly smile, “how’s it feel being the star of Franco’s stories? He usually doesn’t bring anyone here unless they’re pretty special.”

You glance at Franco, who’s caught mid-laugh across the table. “I think I’m still getting used to all of this,” you admit. “But it’s been amazing.”

“Good answer,” the cousin says with a wink. “We’re glad you’re here. And trust me, if you ever need embarrassing Franco stories, I’ve got plenty.”

Franco catches the last part of the conversation and groans. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, but his grin betrays the lightheartedness in his tone.

The cousin leans closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “I’ll let you in on a secret—he may act cool, but he’s got a soft spot a mile wide. You’ll see.”

The evening unfolds with warmth and laughter, each moment weaving you further into Franco’s world. Amid the lively chatter and clinking glasses, you often catch Franco’s gaze, his dark eyes softening with unspoken emotion every time they meet yours.

As the guitar music shifts to a softer tune, Franco leans over, his voice low enough to be heard only by you. “Come on,” he whispers, his lips curving into a playful smile as he tilts his head toward the fields. “I want to show you something.”

He guides you past the barn, where the soft nickers of horses and the rustle of hay mingle with the symphony of crickets. The path winds through the tall grasses, their silvery edges catching the light of the moon. The warmth of his hand in yours contrasts with the cool night breeze as you approach the old oak tree at the edge of the property. Strings of twinkling Christmas lights wrapped around its trunk cast a gentle glow, their reflections dancing in the small pond nearby.

Franco stops beneath the tree, his gaze lifting to the vast expanse of stars above. “I’ve always loved how clear the sky is here,” he murmurs, his voice soft and contemplative. “It’s grounding, you know? Being here, under all this, surrounded by family.” He pauses, his smile growing warmer as he turns to you. “Christmas has always been my favorite time of year because it’s about family and love. This year, though... it’s different. Better.”

You glance up at the stars, their brilliance mirrored in his dark eyes. “It’s beautiful,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can see why you love it here. It feels... peaceful.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “It is. It’s the kind of place where you can just breathe, let everything else fade away. Sometimes, I forget how much I miss it until I come back.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Do you think you’ll always feel this way about it? That no matter where you go, you’ll come back here?”

His lips curve into a small smile. “I think so. There’s something about home—it stays with you. And now…” He hesitates, as though searching for the right words. “Now it’ll remind me of you too.”

Your breath catches at his confession, but before you can respond, Franco reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small box wrapped in rustic paper, tied with a sprig of holly. “For you,” he says, his voice almost shy, the faint blush on his cheeks illuminated by the golden light. Inside is a delicate bracelet, its charm shaped like a tiny star, glinting as if it holds a piece of the sky above.

“Franco, it’s beautiful,” you say, your fingers brushing over the charm. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interjects gently. “It reminded me of you—how you light up a room, how you make everything feel brighter.” He pauses, his gaze steady. “I just wanted you to have something to remember this night. Us.”

Before you can thank him, Franco steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face. His thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes search yours with a mix of affection and nervous vulnerability. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice tender, “for making this Christmas unforgettable.” Slowly, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels both sweet and grounding, as though the entire world has narrowed to just this moment, just the two of you beneath the vast Argentine sky.

When you finally pull back, the soft hum of his family's music drifts faintly on the breeze, mingling with the distant crackle of the asado. Franco intertwines his fingers with yours, his smile unguarded. “Ready to go back?” he asks, his voice teasing.

You shake your head, laughing softly. “Not yet. I want to stay here a little longer.”

“Good,” he replies, his grin widening as he pulls you closer. “Because I wasn’t ready to leave either.” He glances at the bracelet on your wrist, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You know, you make me want to believe in those cheesy Christmas movie moments.”

You chuckle, nudging him lightly. “Cheesy? This moment is straight out of one.”

He laughs, a rich, warm sound that seems to fill the night. “Maybe. But I don’t mind. As long as it’s with you.”

After a while, Franco leans back against the tree, his arm gently pulling you closer. “You know,” he starts, his voice thoughtful, “when I was a kid, I used to come out here whenever I needed to think. It felt like the whole world was far away, like nothing else mattered except this place and the stars.”

You tilt your head, resting it lightly on his shoulder. “Do you still feel that way now?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the sky. “Not in the same way,” he admits softly. “But tonight... being here with you... it feels like I’ve found something even better. Someone to share it with.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your heart ache in the best way, and you turn to meet his eyes. Before you can say anything, the distant sound of Franco’s mum calling out breaks the moment. “Franco! Don’t think I don’t know where you’re hiding. Bring her back before we finish the dessert without you!”

Franco laughs, the sound warm and carefree, and reluctantly straightens up. “Looks like we’ve been caught,” he says, his tone playful.

You laugh along, reaching for his hand. “We can’t let them eat all the flan without us.”

As you make your way back toward the farmhouse, Franco squeezes your hand gently. “Promise me one thing,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“What’s that?” you ask, looking up at him.

“That this won’t be the last Christmas we spend together.”

Your heart swells at the earnestness in his words, and you nod, a smile curving your lips. “I promise.”

When you return to the patio, Franco’s mum greets you both with a knowing look, her hands on her hips. “About time,” she teases, handing you each a plate of flan with dulce de leche. “We saved you some, but only because she’s a guest,” she adds, gesturing to you with a wink.

Franco’s cousin smirks from his seat by the guitar. “And here we thought you two were rehearsing for your own Christmas movie.”

Franco rolls his eyes, but his grin remains unshaken as he pulls out a chair for you. The warmth and liveliness of his family’s celebration embrace you once more, but this time, everything feels even more magical—because now, you’re not just a guest. You’re part of it all.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

What He Didn't Do | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of Top Gun: Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: female country singer!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), reader x ex!oc (past romance)

Content Warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of toxic relationship, pop culture references | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: On a trip to Nashville to visit their country friend and Natasha's best friend, Y/n, the group gets a peak at some music she's been cooking up. In doing so, they learn the inspiration behind a song on her upcoming EP is linked to her most recent heartbreak.

Note: holy shit guys, I know it's been A LONG TIME but I'm 2 weeks away from finishing grad school!! I cannot believe I'm about to have a Master's degree, but now I gotta really start figuring out what the hell I'm doing next 💀. Job searching sucks, but I plan to get some writing done as I apply now that I will for sure have plenty of time to work on some stuff. Plus I've been in a reading binge which I've been slumping on also. ALSO WOW THANK YOU FOR 2K FOLLOWERS!!! HELLO?!?! how'd that happen omg I cannot thank y'all enough for the love and support on my works. I love you all so so much. I hope you enjoyed this work and the person who requested it I hope I did it justice!

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

“Hey, Natasha! Over here!” shouted the familiar voice the moment Phoenix stepped into The Barnyard country bar & grill, flanked by her fellow Navy pilots who joined her on the trip to Nashville, Tennessee following another successful mission. The voice belonged to her best friend since high school, up and coming country music sensation, Y/n L/n. Donning her usually boot cut denim jeans, white tank with a weathered flannel tied around her waist and sparkly boots. Her cream colored Stetson hat topped her head. 

A beaming smile on her face, Natasha embraced Y/n, her hat slightly tipping back causing the woman to reach for it before it fell. “Been a long time, cowgirl.”

“A long time indeed, citygirl,” she laughed, pulling away with a grin. “And I see you brought some friends too. How you doin’ boys--ah!” a squeal ignites when Y/n’s swept off her feet by none other than Rooster. Spinning her around once before setting her back. “Nice to see y’all missed me after all.”

“Are you kidding,” Rooster scoffs, moving aside to allow the others to greet her. “We’ve been counting down the days before you finally decide to move back out west. The Hard Deck ain’t as popping anymore without your shows.”

“Yeah, Y/n, when are you gonna change the mountains back to the beach?” Coyote jokes.

  “I don’t know,” Jake muses, glancing around the packed house, being not so subtle in his checking out of the ladies. “I quite like the scenery.” Fanboy and Payback exchange a look. 

“Yeah. Scenery.”

“Awe y’all too sweet,” Y/n takes the small bag Bob hands her, “What’s this?”

“A little gift from all of us,” he replies, watching with a smile as she removes the tissue paper followed by a growler of Penny’s famous draft beer straight from the Hard Deck. 

“Ah!” she gasps, inspecting the bottle with joy. “You brought me Penny’s IPA?! Y’all don’t know how long I’ve been thinkin’ about this. Ugh! I can already taste it.” 

“Penny and Mav send their helloes,” Payback tells her, “they wanted to come but with the Hard Deck being renovated they unfortunately could not.”

“Oh I understand. I can’t wait to see what the place looks like next time I visit. Penny told me how she’s extending the back patio to have an outdoor bar.” Y/n places the growler back in the bag, moving to hug them all again while saying thanks. “C’mon now, I got y’all a spot up front with some cold ones ready.”

Jake claps his hands, “That’s what I like to hear.”

They follow Y/n and settle down at the large round table next to the stage. It was still a couple hours till the show, and the band had already set up leaving them plenty of time to catch up on all things new while also playing darts since the board was beside the table. 

After a few minutes, Natasha glances around with a curious frown on her face, “Where’s Klein?”

The glass of whiskey in Y/n’s hand pauses mid-air, her smile dropping to something strained, “yeah….he’s not coming tonight. Or ever again.” The table quiets, Mickey, Javy, and Jake stop throwing darts. Licking her lips, Y/n places her glass down, “I meant to tell you on our last phone call the other day, but felt it was better to tell you in person since I know he was your friend too.” 

Klein and Y/n had been together for what felt like forever but really their relationship had been five years. They met in college, became friends and then a couple years after graduation the two decided to pursue a relationship. It was bliss in the beginning. Full of romance and the things one sees in the movies. Yet, once the honeymoon phase wore off a year in, things went sour. Klein went to grad school for business and Y/n started her journey in country music and from there the couple’s problems began. 

They say that when you’re happy and having fun, time flies. But when you’re miserable….it’s dragged out until you’re drained and on the verge of losing it. That was the best description of their relationship. Miserable and dragged out. Both parties were aware they were not going to last and just kept it going for the sake of company and having someone. Leaving them resentful and doing or saying things that hurt the other. 

They barely saw each other with Y/n playing gigs with her band and Klein working long hours at the office. She was becoming a household name in the South and Midwest. Her TikTok where she posted short clips of her shows and songs went viral, followed by reaching three million subscribers on YouTube. Then when Y/n decided to move to San Diego with Natasha for a year, the two fought over the decision and actually broke up for a period of time. A decision that only lasted three weeks. 

They flew out to see each other, facetimed every other day, texted consistently. Tried desperately to make it work. Thinking back to their friendship before dating and how happy they were that first year. But still, they knew it was to no avail and their relationship was crumbling. They accused the other of cheating, they hung up during phone arguments. Klien forgot their anniversary. Y/n missed his birthday.

It was a disaster. And it finally came to a climax a month ago when the two broke things off for good. 

The dagger squad knew Klein, and Natasha knew him even longer having been best friends with Y/n. She supported her friend, and was there as her shoulder to cry on. Though she disapproved of their relationship with how toxic it had gotten, Natasha never interfered unless it got bad. Then again, Y/n resorted to keeping her and Klein’s problems private roughly two years after they started dating. 

“You broke up,” Nat stated for her. Y/n’s face telling her all she needed to know. 

“Yeah,” a nod confirmed for the rest of the table, the singer’s eyes drawn to the half drunk glass of whiskey. “It was inevitable. You know that.”

Nat tightened her lips, falling into the back of her seat with a sigh, “I hoped otherwise. But yes, I had a feeling when you didn’t mention him the past several calls we’ve had.” her voice softened, a wave of sadness for her friend consuming the pilot. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I had a lot going on between him moving out and meeting with the producer on my EP.” After reaching five million followers on TikTok and returning to Nashville, a producer from Warner Music Nashville, label for names like Kenny Chesney and the Zac Brown Band, messaged the singer about setting up a meeting. “I lost track of everything else.” 

Nat patted her shoulder, rubbing it softly, “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Y/n. Breakups are hard and there’s nothing wrong with taking a little time for yourself before having to face the world. I’m just glad you’re telling me now so I can be there for you from here on.” 

“Us,” Rooster corrects with sass, “Thank you for telling us, so that we can be here for you.”

“My bad,” Nat rolls her eyes, but her smile says she’s not really annoyed. “Us. We’re here for you, Y/n, and whether it’s to listen or offer advice, we got your back.”

“Thank you,” Y/n taps her fingers against the glass, her face expressing gratitude. “I really appreciate that and it’s comforting knowing I have you guys,” she meets each of their eyes, “I’ll be fine. I always am when something doesn’t go as planned, but it’ll take some time.”

“Of course,” Nat assures with a smile. “Take all the time you need.”

“I can’t lie though,” Y/n pauses to down the rest of her whiskey, “it’s been a great help with songwriting lately. Been pouring out my feelings into the work like I’m writing a diary.”

Nat raises a brow, intrigued, “well that’s something good to come out of it. When will we get to hear it?” a smirk graces Y/n’s lip, mischief in her eyes. “Sooner than you think.”

“Alright ladies and gents, theys and thems, listen up!” booms the bartender who’s taken the stage the moment the clock struck 9. Everyone’s attention turns to them, the once vibrating chatter of conversations seizing. “It’s my honor to introduce tonight’s entertainment. She’s a local gal on her way to becoming a country music sensation. You might know her from YouTube and TikTok, or seen her performance with Laney Wilson this past spring.” Few people, including the Dagger Squad, begin clapping and cheering. “Give it up for Nashville’s own, Y/n L/n and the Barnyard’s beloved The Barrels!!”

Whistles break out and hollers from every corner of the Barnyard. People snapping photos and ready to video record as Y/n waves to the crowd, walking up the steps to the stage and approaching the mic. The Barrels taking their places by their instruments.

“Howdy folks!” a chorus of “heeeyyyys,” follow the greeting. “How we doin’ tonight?” she waits for the audience to respond, slinging the guitar--her most precious possession--over her shoulder. 

“Thank y’all for coming tonight, it’s always a grand time playing here at The Barnyard, seeing all you fresh and friendly faces. Much thanks and appreciation for the wonderful staff and owners for letting us grace this stage,” raising her whiskey, the crowd follows suit and cheers for the staff. The head bartender/owner sent a salute her way. 

“Thank you to the lovely musicians behind me,” she turns to raise her glass to the band, “The Barrels, who’ve allowed me to join them and be a part of their expedition to this crazy world we’ve sold our soul too.” They all laugh, tipping their beers and glasses to the singer. The crowd whistled. 

Taking a large gulp, Y/n hands the drink to Natasha, and adjusts her guitar. “We’ve put together a great show for you tonight. First a few covers of Country’s best and then some originals I’m honored to share with you after much anticipation.”

“Yeah let’s go,” Jake shouts, clapping with the rest of the daggers. 

“You got this, Y/n!” 

“Show them how it’s done!”

Y/n’s angelic voice carries through the establishment. Singing along to “Ain't in Kansas Anymore,” By Miranda Lambert from the Twisters soundtrack. Followed by “Bless the Broken Road,” by Rascal Flatts. That had Nat and Bob tearing up, as well as Jake though he’s never admitted it. 

They covered “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” by Carrie Underwood, had a few couples slow dance to “Tennessee Whiskey,” by Chris Stapleton, and had the crowd hype to “Man! I feel like a Woman,” by Shania Twain. 

Then they began to perform the songs Y/n had spent countless time and energy writing. Pouring her heart and soul into the words on the paper. The memories surfacing, the smell of grass and liquor. Block parties on a Friday night. Line dancing and barrel racing. Sun beating down and rain pelting from the sky. The love and heartbreak coming together as a symphony. 

“This last song,” she spoke into the mic, having just sang the more upbeat and happy songs for the crowd. Waiting for the right time to introduce the piece she was most anxious about. Y/n wrote it fresh off the breakup following two pints of ice cream and a bottle of Riesling. It took only two hours, and she felt so confident in how raw the lyrics that she hardly made any corrections. 

It was her most intimate song ever. 

“Is a personal one. One that really had me searching into the deep parts of my soul. It’s a song I feel many of you will relate to if you’ve experienced a great love that became a great loss.” Faces in the crowd shift, mirroring her own to signify they understood the meaning behind her words. “Sometimes to move forward in the future, you have to let go of the past. And this song is just that. I hope you like it.”

Silence filled the bar, Y/n taking a deep breath and glancing at Nat, who raised her thumb and mouthed, “You got this.” Exhaling, the woman started strumming, letting the melody flow into the air. 

“Everybody's asking what the hell happened

Wondering why it all went wrong

Mama always said, "If you can't say something nice

Then don't say anything at all"

I've got my side of the story and he's got his side, too

So I ain't gonna go and tell you what he did

But I'll tell you what he didn't do”

Nat perched her elbows onto the table, letting chin drop on her hands as she listened intently to her best friend’s voice. The words cutting deep and letting Nat feel all the emotion Y/n was releasing after keeping it bottled in for so long. 

“Treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

Stay home 'cause he wanted to

Always fight for my love, hold on tight like it's something

That he couldn't stand to lose

The devil's in the details

I won't tell the hell that he put me through

All I know is in the еnd, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do

“I'm already halfway ovеr him and I ain't taking time to turn around

So I'mma take the high road, even though we both know

I could run him out of this town”

Y/n strummed the guitar, keeping her eyes closed the entire time to hold back the tears threatening to escape. The music guided her, a comforting blanket like the hug of a loved one.

“That's just dirty laundry, I don't need to wear the truth

So I ain't gonna tell you everything he did

But I'll tell you what he didn't do

“Treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

Stay home 'cause he wanted to

Always fight for my love, hold on tight like it's something

That he couldn't stand to lose

The devil's in the details

I won't tell the hell that he put me through

All I know is in the end, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do

I ain't met the right one yet, but I know when I do

Coming up to the final verse, Y/n unleashed everything. Belting out the lyrics and giving it everything. The moment signifying not only the end of her and Klein for good, but the beginning of a new era in her life. 

“He'll treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

Stay home 'cause he wanted to

Always fight for my love, hold on tight like it's something

That he can't stand to lose

The devil's in the details

I won't tell the hell that he put me through

All I know is in the end, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do

All I know is in the end, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do”

As her fingers brushed over the strings one last time, Y/n opened her eyes right as the crowd exploded into elation. Whistles and hollers at every corner, louder than anything she’d heard before when playing at the bar. Igniting a wide smile on her face and the tears she’d been holding back to finally fall. 

The loudest of course were the dagger squad. The guys all pounding their fists on the table while shouting, Nat jumping up and down with her own face caked in tears. 

“Thank you everyone!” Y/n waved, removing her guitar before embracing the members of the band. “Thank you for having us and we hope to see you next Friday! Be on the lookout for our debut EP dropping Christmas Day!” The audience released another wave of loud cheers, excited by the news. The owner saluted Y/n again when she threw up a two-finger salute of her own. A moment later, a staff member was bringing over a bottle of Whiskey and glasses to the table, “Courtesy of the owner.” 

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Rooster held up his glass after pouring everyone theirs. They all stood, Natasha’s arm around Y/n’s and Mickey on the singer's other side. “To friendship. You clowns are by far the most annoying assholes I’ve ever met, but there’s no one else on this goddamn planet I trust more with my life. You’re more than friends, you’re family and I know like the wingman you are in the sky, you’ll always have my back.” 

“Here, here!” the table echoes. But none raise the glasses to their lips yet as Rooster continues, “And to Y/n, our darling, country belle, you’re going grab the industry by the balls and make it your bitch,” the two women break into belly laughs, nearly spilling the alcohol on each other. Y/n tips her glass with a look reading, “You know it, baby.” 

“Best wishes and good luck to you on this next chapter in life. You are going to do wonders in the world, and we are all honored to be here to witness it unfold. We love you, darlin’.”

“Here, here!!” 

“I love you guys so much!!” she shouts in unison with the clinking of the glasses. Throwing back the whiskey in one gulp. 

Y/n may have lost a piece of herself in the many years spent with Klien. The endless hours of crying, wondering where it all went wrong. Anxiety piling up like a volcano just waiting to explode so the steaming lava flowed out. The years with Klein were an integral part of her 20s going into 30s. And he was a constant figure in many milestones she achieved. 

Mourning the end of their relationship was not only the loss of a lover, but also a friend. 

But Y/n looked forward to the next chapter in her life. Knowing she wasn’t alone in her endeavors, there was the ever lasting support of her friends and family. Visible by the group of naval pilots surrounding the table. Her career looked promising, an EP done and about to release. The power of social media gifting her opportunities she’d dreamed of years ago. 

As the whiskey flowed and the jukebox played, “Mississippi Girl,” by Faith Hill, Y/n leaned into the warmth of her best friend Natasha. Ready to barrel race her way to the top of the Country music charts.

............................................

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

[foreststarflaime]

So do you have any ff7 language and accent headcanons?

MY LINGUIST HEART IS EXPLODING TY yes ofc I do let’s see…and I’ll almost assuredly be talking cultural hcs too because language and culture are inextricably entwined

I’ll start with Banora/Mideel (I am much more familiar with Banora) since I mentioned that most recently! That area gives me such uk vibes, especially Banora. Not to mention that Genesis already has such a borderline posh voice. I like to hc that Reeve comes from somewhere around there and that Cait Sith’s voice is his native accent! But then I am torn because with the Rhapsodos family…greek names…ancient greek values and similarities displayed in Genesis and Angeal…so tempting. So I kind of imagine Banora at least as kind of a mix of those cultures (which would work pretty well I think, I know of quite a few overlaps in values between homeric and anglo-saxon values, and greek folklore does give me a similar vibe to celtic folklore) (ah you see there I go, using language and culture interchangeably already)! Ancient Greek at least is a very lyrical-sounding language (it’s theorized that the different accents were used to show differences in pitch) and I feel like it would fit perfectly in Genesis’ voice especially! Also I like to hc that his parents’ names are Peleus and Thetis for the Achilles reference >:)

For Gongaga and Nibelheim I’m more mainstream, love the Zack speaking Spanish and Cloud speaking Old Norse hcs so much! Don’t have much else to say about Gongaga, wonderful as is. Nordic Nibelheim is so special to me bc people always conflate ‘norse’ with vikings when that’s so not all there is ;-; there’s the Vanir as well as the Aesir! And even just thinking about it for so little time rn the Fenrir myth does fit him

Wutai is meant to be based off Japan (I’m fairly sure, I know so much less than I should about that part of the world so anyone feel free to add on). I do love that—people who have different first languages actually think differently, because their brains learn to process and codify things differently based on what the grammar of their language focuses on and how their words are constructed and so forth (it’s very much a chicken or the egg type situation). And with Japanese being in an entirely different language family, the breakdowns in communication that can occur due to people not doing enough research on the differences in cultural thought can be massive and disastrous. Which works so realistically well for the whole Shinra vs Wutai conflict.

As for Midgar, cities are often little islands dialect and accent wise. Lots of different accents and languages and dialects from all over the place mixing together to create something new. I like to hc that being surrounded by so many conflicting accents Sephiroth can mimic them pretty well, even though Hojo tried to knock everything out of him but the ‘normal’ ‘educated’ accent (there is no such thing as not having an accent. Your speech is marked inherently by being different from another person’s speech). Hehehe I like to imagine that spending so much time with Genesis and Angeal and actually liking and wanting to be like them he’s picked up quite a few Banoran mannerisms :) like me when I lived in the uk for a few months and suddenly now I say “you’ve not” instead of “you haven’t” and still pronounce “vase” and “island” weird take me back there nowwwww

[writingquestionsanswered]

Is it bad for writers - who want to be published - to rely on generators for coming up with new names? I'm worried that using only generated names for races, characters, and places in a high fantasy is off-putting. I'm really bad at coming up with names that actually sound nice... but I don't really enjoy using generators to do the job for me :(

Relying on Name Generators for High Fantasy

I think name generators can be really helpful when you're struggling to come up with a name for a character, place, or something else in your story. However, you still have to be able to process the suggestions to make sure they work for your story:

1 - Character Names - Does the name fit the character you've created? Does it have a nice ring to it? Does it fit the time, place, and genre? For example, with names like Sansa Stark, Cersei Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, Theon Greyjoy, and Jon Snow, it would have been odd if there had been a sister and brother named Kennedy and Braedyn Johnson. The names are too 2000s trendy and the surname is too common/familiar in our world.

2 - Place Names - Does it make sense for the setting and genre? For example, if you've written a story set in a fictional New England-inspired town in an imaginary place, you probably wouldn't want to call it "Dry Gulch" as that is a place name more associated with dry areas in the southwest. Likewise, if you're writing a fantasy set in a typical medieval European-inspired setting, it wouldn't make sense for you to have a place called Astronaut Beach. There wouldn't be astronauts in this world, and "beach" as a word for shore wasn't used until after the medieval period.

3 - Companies, Organizations, and Businesses - Entities created to serve a particular purpose (to provide a product, service, or administrative function) are usually named with that purpose in mind. So, Dynamik Industries wouldn't make sense as a name for an organization dedicated to cleaning up the ocean. "Dynamik" is a play on "dynamic" which means "marked by continuous change" or "energetic, forceful" and "industries" implies a group of profit-making enterprises. None of this has anything to do with environmentalism or cleaning up the ocean.

4 - Races, Species, Countries, Cultures - Groups of people/beings are usually named for whatever it is they have in common, whether that's a physical attribute (like skin color), a place of origin (such as a particular continent, country, or region), or a shared culture/religion (which is then named after something in the culture/religion.) So, if you were writing a medieval Europe-inspired fantasy and you wanted a race of vampire faeries, if a name generator gave you the name "boreal grell," would that make sense? Well... "boreal" refers to coniferous forests of the north, and "grell" is most famously the name of floating brain things in Dungeons and Dragons, but is also the name of an imp-like forest sprite in World of Warcraft, and an alien species in The Outer Limits. Given that "grell" isn't a relatively uniform genre term like "troll" or "elf," you probably wouldn't want to use it. And unless your vampire faeries live in northern coniferous forests, "boreal" wouldn't make much sense, either. As for countries and cultures, these are often named in association with the location origin, predominant language of the culture, or an aspect of the culture. So, if a random generator gave you a culture called Vervikan, what would that mean in your story? Is there a place called Vervik? Would that word even make sense in your story? Would the word derive from a language in your story, and are you going to do some basic conlang to create other similar-sounding words to give Vervik some authenticity?

So, having said all of that... I think the key to using generators for fantasy and sci-fi in particular is to use the ideas to get your brain going, but you don't want to take any particular suggestion and use it as-is. Let's say you're trying to find a name for a mountain-dwelling elf-like fantasy creature in your story. The Fantasy Name Generators site offers up:

Lake Mummies Flaming Shades Growling Dragonborn Land Nymphs

Well, let's see what we can eliminate that doesn't make sense for a a mountain-dwelling elf-life creature:

Lake Mummies Flaming Shades Growling Dragonborn Land Nymphs

So, we're left with:

Lake Flaming Growling --born Land

Well, they don't live by a lake, so we can eliminate that, but they do live in the mountains, so maybe we can replace "lake" with "mountain" on our list. They don't have anything to do with fire or fire magic, so we can eliminate "flame," and they don't growl, but they are known for humming, so maybe we can replace "growling" with "humming." We'll keep the suffix --born, and we'll ditch "land" because that's too general. So, our list now looks like this:

Mountain Humming --born

What can we make of this:

The Humming Mountainborn Mountainborn Hummers Mountainborn Hums The Mountainborn

I would probably go with "the mountainborn" or "mountainborn hums," or, I might generate another list to get some other ideas.

I hope that helps!

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[crying-fantasies]

First gifts

Masterlist

He's lucky you aren't home.

He's really lucky to have put Sol in her crib pod, recharging peacefully like an angel while sucking on her crystal pacifier as Bob recharged next to her.

He is lucky to open the door and sense the absolute glee on his brother's EMF before it crashes on the bond, fast enough to make the decision of just getting the pit out of there, but Sunstreaker isn't lucky enough to turn faster than Sideswipe can catch him, dragging and sitting him in front of Steercharger who can only smile with real innocence by the big slag eating grin Sideswipe has on the faceplate.

"Our dear Junior has made the question", Sunstreaker tries to think of what in Unicron's name his brother is referring to, jumping slightly when his brother puts his unwashed servos on his shoulder armor, the water on it will wash the wax away but he can't say another bad word or you, somehow, will know.

Steercharger seems bashful, almost timid, and Sunstreaker fears the worst, "what?" maybe there was more bite and venom on his question by how his sparkling reacted, but he kind of senses it, Steer is in that age, and while not as eye catching as him, he knows that some mechs could glance at his sparkling with other intentions, "who is the fragger-"

"No one! No one, I swear!", Steer is has a hue of pink on his faceplates, Sides laughs at him.

"Oh bother of mine", his jabbing is obvious, "our kiddo isn't interested in anyone", he takes silence to finally let him go, "yet", oh, oh this Fragger, of course he would cross his circuits just to make fun of him.

Steer seems a little more brave once Sunstreaker's EMF calm down, having more courage to ask, "it's just, I was curious about the conjunx ritual", his big blue optics seem to sparkle with sincere curiosity and affection, "how was yours?"

Ah, Sunstreaker thinks with looming dread over him in the shape of his slag grinning brother, that question.

In any other occasion he would have the gall to tell his youngling all about it, teach him just like he taught him how to fight with a servo on his back strut or how to apply a decent amount of wax and cleanser on his faceplates (specially which one goes first), but if there is one thing he refuses to talk about is of the errors and mistakes of his past, mistakes that were his but also Sideswipe's fault to some degree.

"I've waited so long for this", Sides, somehow, got a metallic box out of his subspace, taking out three important things Sunstreaker believed he lost but no, the slagger has it all, "oh, Sunny here loved your mentor so much from the very beginning", the exaggeration is heavy on his glossa, mentioned bot made a pained face, having unnerving images supplied from his very own databank, how he very much tried to get rid of you and, by his own grimace, tried to put you in your place more than once, feeling a burning rage come to his younger self, "of course, humans have it a tad bit difficult with our culture you see, your mentor had a funny time realizing we're a package deal"

"You didn't say anything to begin with", he pushes Sides off, quickly doing a close up visual scan, no scratches, "very intelligent, go flash your lights to an organic, push up the EMF of a sealed youngling to the one that doesn't even have a proper sensor, see how long it takes to finally get an answer", Steer was pretty much familiar with his mentors rough pushing one another, so he didn't say anything when Streaker grabbed Sides by one of his structured audials, or his horn, like you called it. "worked well, uh? Almost 20 earthling years to even put the dots together and more than one gift in between like two messy younglings playing habsuit", finally letting go of his brother's audial he almost made him fall, Sunstreaker now was looking at their oldest, "Just so you know, Steer, you've to be clear with what you want, organic or not, learn a few things of where you're getting into or if you're really into that, and if you want to drag someone on it be sure to be in the same page to begin with".

Now, it was Sideswipe's turn to have a bad memory of his courting to you, not exactly knowing you had to cook whatever he gave you most of the time and remembering that one chance he got you a steak, supposedly what one of his fellow soldiers said would be one of the best gifts ever, what he didn't mention, or thought it wasn't necessary to mention, was that it had to be fresh and cooked, and obviously not floating on his subspace for a whole decacycle before finally presenting it to you.

So yeah, Hoist almost killed him when it was time to clean that, because Ratchet was sure to drag the whole Lost Light back from space just so he could hit Sideswipe's helm with a wrench for such stupidity, since Ratchet didn't know Sunstreaker didn't either, being in the same starship at the moment, but boy he would also done the same as the medic.

But it would never compare to the clash between his affection to you and Sunstreaker's bitter hatred and resentment, which only got worse when he tried to make his brother see that you're really something valuable to care for.

Steercharger glanced with curious and round optics, totally oblivious to the truth, "so you give gifts, right?", there was this little something on his vox, like expecting something to happen or come, "what were yours"

The oldest twin wanted to ask if he was referring to their gifts or yours, but his younger brother beat him to it, taking out a piece of old, wrinkled and colorless paper, "This", he put the little thing on the table like it was a great treasure, "this is the first gift your mentor gave me, right it isn't as great as the one I got for our ritual but...", maybe Sides was thinking of the past, a very younger you folding the paper in front of him after making it with diligence, innocent, oblivious of what were you doing and the weight it gave to his spark, oblivious of the warmth such little gesture flooded their bond with when you put the paper crane on Sideswipe's waiting servos as Sunstreaker tried to cut it out by force, sealing the feeling away with gritted denta as he tried to focus on other things.

There was happiness and also hatred on it, but Sideswipe still choose to keep the good about it even when his precious gift was soon to fall to pieces, "this little fella is the best".

Now both glitches looked at Sunstreaker, who was only looking at the open box, he wasn't happy about it, "so it was you who took it away", Sideswipe tried to fake innocence as his brother took the soft fabrics on his servos, your first gifts for him, the first ones always hold the most value in Kaon, where things were scarcely low, every courting or friendly gift was something to be grateful for

He didn't appreciate yours by his own stubbornness.

Sunstreaker can still remember, he thought so little of it, thinking that the color was pretty but almost launching it to the trashcan after hearing it came from an animal, weighting the pros and cons of even using it after realizing it was soft enough to don't scratch him, soft enough to just fall from him without resisting gravity like water made fabric, enough to keep you apart by the same fabric, not scorching to make you sweaty, not touching him even when Sideswipe tried to force you on him, he was thankful even when he didn't say it directly, bashfully realizing you got him two but also noticing that you only did it to keep your distance from him.

His digits pass over the stitches on it, remembering how you practically exiled him from the ritual, not really knowing, not even realizing in what Sides had dragged you into, it hurt, it hurt so much even when he denied himself the feeling, he was so close to shout you "how dare you?" as your own claims were know to him, you were daring enough that night to shout at him, to face him in place of Sideswipe, and maybe he should've listened, but Sunstreaker was only fragments of himself at the time, fragments that cut him, Hunter, you and Sides in between.

It cut his own gift, the first one you gave to him, shredded to pieces when he had to escape to exact his own objectives, not believing that you had it in you to even believe you could cut him out, his anger, stubbornness, hatred and silent pain flooded the bond and made Sideswipe the first bot knowing something was wrong as he felt himself choking on air during his recharge, servos gripping his chassis in pain just in time to register your shoutingand fear for the worst.

There were so many things he wanted to go back in time and change, make amends like you did as the needle put back together his gift in one piece before you offered it to him again, thinking he really liked the thing, which he did, Sunstreaker looked it as a he couldn't believe it was really happening, not believing you just accepted him back to the ritual, now totally aware of what it meant, aware what your actions were implying, "we can try, only if you want to", Sunstreaker was dumfounded, out of his element, recalling all the scrap he did to you, just to put the choice on him, asking what he wanted to do.

He took the fabric from your burned hands, holding them, firm but not hard, not letting go.

"Your mentor is a soft spark", Sides took him back from his harsh memories, filling his end of the bond with understanding as all Sunstreaker could do was hold the patched up blanket, telling himself that he didn't lose it as he feared, it was just his brother that took it without asking, he would have some words with him later, "gift are important, true, but is the feeling on it that matters most".

Steer had a face that seemed to get the idea of what was being expressed, his own servo inside the memory box and taking out something that wasn't good at his development stage, just to say, "so what is this?"

When you came back home, Bob welcomed you with a soft headbutt as you found Sunstreaker trying to choke Sideswipe by the neck, as Steercharger welcomed you with a exposing spicy photo of Sides on his servo, marked with his handwriting with a heavy red colored "ready to come back?", remembering he sent you one of those while you were working on the former Dead End.

Taking your key card back, you only exited the house, not really in the mood to explain.

[worldseer]

Indulgence of Sweetness (Kar'niss x AFAB!Tav)

Warnings/Content: AFAB! Tav, Spoilers for BG3, NSFW, monster fucking, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, detailed description of genitalia, detailed kissing, Kar'niss is a giant spider person, OOC(?)

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist: Coming soon! Author's Note: Caved and decided to put this on here to show that I can in fact make good content. I wrote this for fun mostly on a Discord server. And I spent too much time thinking what it would look like, if you catch my drift. I also tweaked a few things about it so it's easier to read and more cohesive. Enjoy the filth! Tags: (comment to be added to taglist)

~

The darkness of this place was suffocating, dreary, and unkind. From what you heard, just beyond the darkness lied monsters eager to kill, maim and eat. Kar'niss, the strange and broken man he was, was able to be convinced to come with your party with the protection of his lantern. He unnerved you at first, the exoskeleton and long thin legs that carried his drider body. It was uncomfortable to look at them for too long. His speech and personality was also concerning, since he spoke in a broken sort of form and rarely referred to himself. It revealed his mental state, how he was. . . not all there. But he was still definitely there. He was. . . strange. But you had to admit, a part of you was curious about him. You had heard of driders, what they did and how they came to be. A part of you wanted to know more, but you kept your prodding questions to yourself. There's no easy way to suddenly ask all about a creature's culture and anatomy after all. . . especially when they seemed like touchy subjects.

Time still passed in this dark place, and shadows grew darker as a form of night swallowed the lands. With his lantern to protect, Kar'niss thought it best to settle for a makeshift camp. The others didn't seem too enthused, but there was a difference between sleeping on rough dirt and being torn apart by terrible creatures. Besides, who was going to argue with the drider who had lived most of his life in this place and remained unscathed?

Stress left you frustrated, naturally. With how this whole quest was going, it was no wonder that you needed some form of relief. Seeking sleep was of no use, your mind was far too active. Tiring yourself out wasn't useful either, considering that most of your muscles throbbed with pain and soreness. No, nothing was working. You needed something to help calm your mind. . . and your gaze moved down to the sleep trousers you wore. "Fuck. . . maybe just one will help," you mutter to yourself, pulling your pants off and shivering as you were exposed to the chill in the air. You were already getting wet, as if your body agreed that this was the best form of stress relief you could perform at this time. Or maybe your body was trying to give you a sign that you needed to find someone to take care of your needs. Your fingers circled your clit slowly, your breath catching. Gods. . . it had been a while since you last got off. And you were too cowardly to ask anyone in your party for a "favor". . . especially now. They'd all likely complain that in the middle of a dark land was definitely not the time and place to get it on. Your hand would do for now. It worked before. . .

A shuffling outside of your small tent snapped you away from the daze of pleasure, and a familiar hissing voice moved in the air. "A sweet scent. . . a sweet, succulent scent in the air. . . is it a gift, your Majesty? A gift for us?" Kar'niss quietly whispers. A clawed hand touched the tarp of your tent, and you scrambled to pull the blankets of your bedroll over yourself. The same clawed hand moved the tarp, and the hungry expression of Kar'niss came into view. However, his expression dropped as soon as his many eyes trained on you. "Oh. . . True Soul. . . Apologies, to you and her Majesty- I smelled a sweetness. . . Have you smelled it?" he says, his voice quiet and tentative now. You blinked a few times, "Uhm. . . Not that I know of." If he was referring to what you thought he was, then this turned into a much more awkward situation that you first thought.

Kar'niss turned his head, his long spider legs moving him forward as he sniffed the air. A shaky sigh left him as he closed his eyes, his form trembling. "The scent. . . it lingers most here. . . fills the air. . . so so sweet, just like her Majesty. . . oh so sweet. . ." he whispers, almost looking to be drooling now. His pedipalps twitched with what looked to be excitement. Kar'niss seems to disregard the invasion of privacy, seeking with his nose the source of the "sweet scent" he speaks of. His legs lower himself, moving closer to the ground. . . and closer to you. He inhales deeply, his face close to the blanket that was covering your indecency. His eyes finally open, and they move to be trained on your face. "It comes from you. . . True Soul. . . The scent. . . oh please, show me what smells so delicious, so sweet and pure~. . ." he purrs, almost begging with a pleading expression. It's. . . oddly cute, and alluring. You figure it's time to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. Perhaps this was best to never tell anyone. . . take it to the grave, so to speak.

With a shy tone, you say, "I was. . . tending to some self relief and. . ." You move the blanket, exposing your still wet pussy. Kar'niss looks absolutely stunned, eyes now zeroed in on the slick folds and your clit peeking out. A growling sort of exhale leaves him. ". . . True Soul . . . you. . . smell. . . so. . ." he says, lips twitching and hands reaching out for you. However he stops himself. "What am I. . . what is. . . what is happening to me? I feel. . . hungry. . . but. . . not for food or blood. . ." he asks himself. Rarely he had ever referred to himself til now. It was as if his mind was clearing, or perhaps some long lost instinct brought back some sanity. How funny, that exposure to a wet cunt could bring back sanity to a man. "Forgive me- I shouldn't be here. . . you seek rest, True Soul. . ." But before he leaves, you find yourself grasping his arm, an arm that is defended and tough with a grey exoskeleton. He pauses, looking at you with surprise. ". . . You can stay, Kar'niss. . ." you whisper, and you see Kar'niss' eyes move over you. He swallows, and finally rests his spider body on the ground of the small tent. He takes up half of the space, but you don't seem to mind his proximity. Kar'niss looks at you with cautious eyes, silently asking permission and confirmation. It was almost cute, and you just nodded to reassure him again.

Maybe it was lust, a need for touch and attention. Or maybe you were curious of the drow drider. What ever the reason, you wanted him here and wanted see what he would do. Kar'niss let out a sigh as his eyes move to look at your pussy again. "It has been. . . long since. . . I've seen. . . such a quim like yours. . ." he admits, his hands reaching for you again. Warm, tough exoskeleton presses against your calves as Kar'niss gently grasps you, as though he was hesitant to touch, like he could corrupt and taint you. He continues, "So long since I . . . felt the wetness. . . the warmth. . ." He leans closer, clawed hands almost pulling you towards him and his eyes moving to look at your face. The many eyes of Kar'niss are dark, but you can see his irises are a rich brown in color. He stares for a moment, then his gaze moves down to your lips. His lips part, scarred and dry, "So long since I have. . . tasted another. . . Can I. . . May I taste you, True Soul?" His breath is warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the chill outside. His eyes move to yours again, and he looks as though he may beg and plead just to kiss you.

Curiosity mixed with need and loneliness was a cocktail of emotions that you never expected to feel, especially now with Kar'niss. But hey, you live life once, right? You wordlessly nod, and a shuddering breath leaves Kar'niss. "Forgive me-" he whispers, then presses his lips against yours. It's. . . surprisingly nice. His lips were a bit dry, but he was careful. Tentative, even. As though he didn't want to overwhelm you with his neediness. His hands moved to your shoulders now, pedipalps grazing the skin of your legs. After a moment, he pulled away but not far. His nose bumped against yours as he whispered again, "More. . . please let me have more. . ." A slick, blackened tongue moves from the inside of his mouth, wetting his lips. In a moment of boldness, you flick your tongue against his. Kar'niss growls lowly, but you know it's not to threaten. It's want. He takes it as an invitation (which it was), and pushed his tongue past your lips. He tastes bittersweet, like the darkest sort of chocolate or cranberries. A lingering taste of iron could be tasted as well. What surprised you most was that his tongue was dexterous. . . and long. It swirls around your own, making your mouth feel full as he seems to try all he can to navigate your mouth and taste every flavor it had to offer. The mingling taste of your spit and his was dizzying. He barely let your tongue move into his mouth, likely to make sure he didn't accidentally bite or cut you with his sharp teeth. When he finally moves away, a "Hah~. . . " sort of sound left him as he exhaled. His tongue was still slick with saliva, and hung low slightly past his chin. Something that could only be described as lust filled his many eyes. His tongue moved again, licking a stripe up your throat. "More. . . I want more. . ." he purrs, and trails down your body. Wet saliva created a sheen on your body as he tongue moved over your warm skin.

You didn't stop him, especially when he hoisted your thighs over his shoulders, and pressed his face into your folds. He inhales deeply and groans loudly. He stays there a moment, inhaling your scent over and over as if he can't get enough of it. "Oh yes. . . So perfect and sweet. . . I need this pussy-" he growls, and you nearly scream from the feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing right into you. He laps and devours, claws careful not to break the skin as he holds you still. His tongue explores and fills your greedy and wanting warmth, soft and whining moans leaving Kar'niss as he tastes you. It's as if you're the best thing he's ever tasted. . . His tongue eventually pulls back so he can lick through your folds. Kar'niss pauses, clawed thumb pulling the hood of your puffy clit back and grinning. "Ah. . . So pretty. . . wonder what this will make you do if I just. . ." he whispers, and begins to suckle on your clit. His eyes close and he moans with you, cycling between licking and sucking on the tender bud. The sounds of slurping and moaning are so lewd and loud that you're surprised that no one has woken up or heard it. But then, he suddenly pulls away when you're about to cum and looks ashamed. You would've complained, had you not noticed his expression first. ". . . Why. . . why do I feel so. . ." he whispers, and then grunts. Kar'niss covers his face with his hands as he pulls back, and you notice a slickness between two plates slightly above where his pedipalps were. A hidden slit, as it were, where a heavy slick bubbled and leaked. Was that. . . precum? Kar'niss suddenly looks embarrassed. "Don't look at me! Don't look at my shame! I didn't mean to-" You move forward, pulling Kar'niss' hands away from his face. "Whoa- hey! It's alright. . . what's going on?" you ask. Kar'niss looks away, one of his hands moving to attempt to hide his face once again, "I'm. . . aroused. . . I want to. . . I want to breed. I need to. . ." "Breed?" "Yes. . . breed. . . My kind gets very. . . excited when we are uhm. . . Sorry, True Soul . . . I do not mean to overwhelm you, especially with. . . carnal desires." "Oh . . Are you holding yourself back?" "Quite literally. . . I. . . know my anatomy. . . intimidates those who are. . . not my kind. . ." " . . . Show me." Kar'niss looks startled, "W-what?" "Show me how aroused you are. . ." With a shaky inhale, there's a squelching noise and you look down. From the hidden slit, what you can only assume is his cock moves out at a sluggish pace and stands proud. It's almost sticky looking, with precum beading and running down the shaft. The head is pointed, and the shaft curves with slight differences in thickness. It's long, just like his tongue. . . and grey in color. It's pretty, in an odd way. For a moment, you wonder how it tastes . . . and if it would all fit. It twitches in the cold air, seeking attention from you. Kar'niss looks away, his hands covering his face in shame. Before he says anything bad about himself again, you grasp his cock. A choked gasp leaves him as you experimentally pump him. Precum dribbles continuously from the tip, coating your hand in mere seconds. It's stickier than whatever is keeping his cock lubricated, like warm caramel. You lift your fingers to your mouth and taste it, and Kar'niss looks like he may implode from the sight in front of him. Sweet. Like pure melted sugar. You look at Kar'niss, deciding it would be too cruel if you didn't allow him to indulge his desires and leave him hard. He doesn't seem like the type to just- go and deal with this himself. . .

"Do you want me?" you ask, and Kar'niss nods silently with a great eagerness. You move closer to Kar'niss, and his arms wrap around you. He's warm to the touch, warmer than you expected. His pedipalps guide your legs to wrap around his "hips" as he "sits" on the ground, his cock touching the inside of your thigh. Another shaking breath leaves Kar'niss, "Let me breed you, True Soul. . . please. . . I can't hold myself back. . . I promise to be gentle, to be good, just please. . ." Oh he was too cute. . . You move so the tip presses against your opening, and Kar'niss lets out a strained noise. It's a slow stretch, but due to the lubrication on his cock, it feels nothing but natural and painless. Smooth, the entire way down. You take him, and his cockhead hits perfectly against your cervix. He moans, "Oh Gods- oh my-" He gasps before speaking again, "MMMMmmmm. . . I need to-" Kar'niss holds you like a vice, and his pedipalps act like another set of arms, guiding your hips as he thrusts at a slow pace. It's like he's afraid to pull out and be too far away from being buried in your warmth, almost grinding instead of actually thrusting back and forth. He huffs and puffs, his face pressed against your neck. "So. . . warm. . . so. . . tight. . . Hah~! Mmm . . . Forgive me, True Soul, forgive my selfishness. . . I don't deserve such a perfect pussy to breed-" he whispers against your skin, his pedipalps guiding your hips faster. Your orgasm washes over you with surprising timing, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he growls lowly as you clamp down on him. "More- more- gotta prepare-" he mumbles, his sharp teeth brushing over your neck. His grip tightens as he thrusts faster, gritting his teeth now. You're surprised he's going so fast and not yet cum, especially since he seemed to have been going through a very long dry spell.. He whines, growls, gasps, every kind of erotic noise tumbling out his throat. It's primal, instinctual, and natural for him.

His sounds mix with yours, and he shakes as he continues to fuck you hard. A second orgasm comes and goes quickly, and you're overstimulated as he brings you a third. It's only then as you clamp and gush on him for a third time that his hips finally stutter. "Have to. . . make sure. . . your quim. . . takes me well. . . must. . . satisfy. . . my love. . ." he groans, then thrusts harder. You're too far gone to understand what exactly he means by that. All you want is him, nothing else mattered. His sharp teeth dig into the soft flesh of your neck, keeping a grip on you. After a moment he pulls away and licks over the mark he made, looking proud of himself. "Yes. . . mate. . . finally. . . mate. . ." he coos, the words quiet as he nears his climax. It's overwhelming, but all the more rewarding when he finally cums. It triggers your fourth orgasm once he cums, and it only seems to intensify his own orgasm. His mouth opens in a silent scream at first, then an almost broken, crying sound leaves him as his cock throbs inside of you. It throbs several times, each time filling you with a rush of hot cum that definitely needed to be spent. A satisfying and comfortable warmth fills you, so much so that you fear it will leak out. It feels thick inside you, slightly heavy; it's oddly satisfying to feel inside you. One of Kar'niss' hands moves behind him as he gently pulls you off of his cock and down on your bedroll once more. A sticky, white and gooey substance covers Kar'niss' hand once it's back in view, and he spreads it over your spent pussy. "Don't worry . . . it's only my webbing," he mutteres, taking note of your confused face. You twitch as Kar'niss pushes the strong webbing slightly into your core, plugging his cum inside of you. He lathers the rest over the opening of your pussy and looks satisfied. "There. . . Now it's sure to take. . ." Take . . . wait a minute! Take?! You didn't even think about that. . . was it possible? You couldn't ask now! You'd have to ask Gale later- Your thoughts were interrupted as Kar'niss tenderly kissed your forehead. "Thank you, my love . . . Rest easy, you're tired. . . I will protect you from harm, as your mate. . ." he whispers, and quietly leaves your tent. You momentarily wonder if now Kar'niss would keep you here forever. You knew what "mate" implied. . . Hopefully you didn't end up breaking his heart by the end of all this. . .

~ Bonus: "So first you lick a spider, and now you fucked one? . . . I'm starting to think you have some spider kink." "I was horny and stressed, Gale! And he was very endearing!" "You slept with a drider. A horny. . . drider. That is something that happened. . . Look, I know we're friends, but know that I am extremely worried about your decision making." ". . . Also I think he made me his mate-" "I- What- TAV!"

[cosmerelists]

Who is the In-Universe Audience for Tress?

[Spoilers for Tress of the Emerald Sea!!]

This list is dedicated to the person at the DragonCon Tress panel who asked this question of the panelists and did NOT receive a good answer (or really any answer at all), in my opinion. So for you, friend, I went ahead and reread Tress and tried to collect all of the evidence about the identity of the audience that Hoid is telling the story to. Has this already been done on Reddit or other forums? Undoubtedly yes but I just wanted to see what I could discover on my own. Here are my findings!

My theory: Hoid is telling the story to a group of apprentice storytellers on the planet First of Sun. Some Rosharans are also present...or maybe just Sigzil. Allow me to explain each part of my answer!

1. Hoid is telling the story (but to an audience who also knows him as Wit)

This we know because he literally identifies himself as Hoid the cabin boy...but he also makes a couple of Wit-related puns, including:

"And with it went my sense of humor, my sense of decorum, and my sense of self. The last one stung the most, since it appears my sense of self is tied directly to my wit. I mean, it's in the name."

"Everyone can use a little more Wit in their lives."

This suggests the audience knows him both as Hoid and as Wit. More on that later!

2. The setting: First of Sun

Wherever the story is being told, it's a place with oceans made of water that have sea creatures (these things must be specified in a Cosmere setting). Hoid often alludes to the audience's familiarity with ships, including:

"Now, I know that on your planet, steering a ship isn't that big a deal."

"I know that sailors fear storms on your planet. It's common among almost all seafaring cultures I've met."

"As I've mentioned, on your planet, you may be accustomed to the helm position on the ship being relatively unimportant."

"But you come from a world where things live in the water."

That it is specifically the First of Sun is suggested by two quotes in particular:

"I can understand why you would want tales of people like Linji, who tried to sail around the world with no Aviar."

"Yes, like the speaking minds inhabiting the ships you've seen landing on your planet."

Aviars are native to First of Sun, and we learn in Sixth of the Dusk that space ships have visited that world.

3. The audience is a group of people

This actually came as a huge shock to me, as it's only revealed near the end, as far as I know. Hoid suddenly says:

"A sailing ship is a strange thing to control--I'm sure some of you know."

Some of you! Some of you?! So the audience is not a single person, but a group of people.

4. But there are also people from Roshar present...or maybe just Sigzil

Now, this may be controversial. But it seems possible that the audience also includes off-worlders, from Roshar and maybe from Scadrial as well. Certain references certainly suggest a Rosharan frame of mind:

First, there is the fact that they know him as Wit, which is Hoid's Rosharan incarnation

Second, there is this line: "Well, now that is a gemstone that truly glitters, friend." Perhaps there are big glittery gemstones on First of Sun too, but that sure seems like a Rosharan idiom.

Third, there is this line: "I assume you have no idea what a Luhel bond is....Unlike the Nahel bond, which trades in consciousness and anchoring to realty, the Luhel bond trades in physical matter." The Nahel bond is how surgebinding works on Roshar, and Hoid assumes the audience knows what that is.

It's possible that only Sigzil is present, and that Hoid keeps making asides to him, which would be pretty cute, to be honest.

5. Maybe Scadrial is represented too??

As for Scadrial, well...there's just the fact that Hoid calls himself a Worldbringer:

"Worldbringers like myself spend decades combing through folk tales, legends, myths, histories, and drunken bar songs looking for the most unique stories."

"Worldbringer" is a Scadrian term; the Rosharan equivalent would be "Worldsinger." This might not mean anything about who's present--perhaps Hoid is spreading the notion of Worldbringers to other planets like First of Sun. But I wanted to raise it as an interesting possibility.

6. The audience is comprised of apprentice storytellers

It becomes clear at the end that the people Hoid is talking to want to learn to be paid for telling stories:

"With a few tips, he wasn't so boring after all. Secretly, I'll tell you that you aren't either. Anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to lower your value. Don't trust them. They know they can't afford you otherwise."

This suggests that his audience want to learn to not be boring and to be paid to tell stories--so apprentices then, perhaps. Hoid also indicates that this audience knows him, and are not just a random crowd he gathered for the occasion:

"It's called the transitive property of ineptitude, and it's the explanation for anything you've seen me do wrong ever."

Hoid refers to other planets casually, suggesting an audience that wants to learn about other cultures and places, another key aspect of being a Hoid-style storyteller:

"Compared, for example, to the depth of the Lilting Abyss on Threnody, the spore seas are practically ponds."

So! That's my theory: Hoid is using the Tress tale to train a group of would-be apprentice storytellers on First of Sun, and maybe Sigzil or other Rosharans are there too.

What do you think??

[earthflaxmachina]

The Metahistory of Paz

A user on instagram requested I talk about how Paz/Rumi were before modern tbod development, and since I actually made Paz around the time I made Derek (Dolan, at the time) in early 2019, there is enough content for a long post, so I want to tackle that first. Rumi was created in 2021, so she hasn't gone through as much change outside of personality.

Note that for the sake of saving space on this post (only 30 images allowed), I won't be including much of what is already public on derekdemetripoo or something.

Let's gooooooooooooo!

Note: around September/October 2019, my hard drive where I keep all of my art got corrupted so I had to get it fixed and they managed to recover a lot of my files but not all of them, because of this all the metadata (e.g date of creation) of the files was lost. All dates before 5th October 2019 are approximations based on what date it was saved on my phone/what date I posted it on toyhouse, etc.

Notex2: Also, when I mention Derek's old self, I will refer to him with his name at the time, Dolan, and also Paz by her old names.

CREATION: approx. ~26th January 2019

Figure 1. Paz's first design and appearance (Heller) | Figure 2. Heller's icon on toyhouse (~4/2019)

Around this time I started making demon ocs, one of which was Paz, or at the time she was Dolan's (Derek) half-brother, Heller Luq Urhis. No cultural inspirations for that name, I literally made up words. Heller was based off my friend's backpack (Figure 1). Dolan's full name was Dolan Sol Urhis. I think they both had a thing for Cerise (if you remember seeing me draw a pirate lady, she was from this era as well but less piratey). Not much I can say about Heller's personality because I don't remember and I never wrote things down. I think he was pretty serious to contrast w Dolan. This post is only about Paz so I won't go deep into other characters.

Something I remember about Heller is that, at some point he wasn't born a demon but was actually turned into one after he died, and that his starry poncho was handcrafted by him so he could remember what stars looked like (there are no stars in Hell). This contradicts the idea of him and Dolan being half-brothers, so I think this was canon before I made them brothers.

Fun fact: at this time, both this story - Devil's Adequate, though I named it in March 2020 - and Wence happened in the same world. I think. I know that Harlow had a connection to Luciano's brother.

DEVIL'S ADEQUATE V2: September 2020

Figure 3. Heller redesign portrait | Figure 4. Heller redesign reference, both from 7th November 2020

This was when I decided to make Devil's Adequate a more "serious" (it was corny) story about morality and heaven and hell, as you can see Heller has a bit of a priest/nun look. At this point he wasn't Dolan's brother anymore but an unrelated character. I think he was a fallen angel who was in denial about being Bad, so he kept up the priest thing in Hell. Quite an interesting concept, given the rest of the story was your average Maybe The Hell And Heaven System Is Flawed (sound familiar? lmao I was 15 by the way. This is a concept a 15 year old comes up with. cough)

I had quite a bit of worldbuilding for Devil's Adequate, like names for places and races of demons/angels. The comprehensive text on the worldbuilding is lost because it was a description for the toyhouse folder I later deleted. All I have left to work from is Dolan's toyhouse profile and maybe the draft script of Devil's Adequate however short. For example, Heaven was called Ecstasis instead.

According to Dolan's toyhouse profile,

'During [Dolan's] years as a secretary he met one of the Fallen Angeli, Heller - they became close friends, very close that Heller was enticed by him and developed feelings, of which are unrequited.'

Interesting! So now he was a love interest. This love interest thing would continue into early TBOD. I would get into the whole Devil's Adequate lore but I think that's more suited to an essay about Dolan/Derek's metahistory because he Was the protagonist.

NOT QUITE DEVIL'S ADEQUATE, NOT QUITE THE BOOK OF DEREK: July 2021

Figure 5. Pascal's new biography (23rd July 2021)

Figure 6. Pascal and Death (4th August 2021) | Figure 7. The 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse (6th August 2021)

At this time, Dolan was no longer Dolan, he was now Death. This story didn't really take place in Heaven or Hell but in some kind of Purgatory office where Death and the other 3 horsemen had to collect souls of people who died like reapers. Each horseman would have their "department" and would collect souls of people depending on how they died. For example, Pascal (no longer Heller), being the horseman of Pestilence, collected souls of people who died by disease. I named him (yes, still a man) Pascal because it was close to Pestilence and I was trying to get the names close to their role. The exception was Cerise (horseman of War) because she was trans and chose her name. P.S. his gloves weren't a fashion choice, he poisoned everything he touched, except for Death.

In Figure 5 it says:

“[His] first big debut was the Plague”

This means he started working when the Bubonic Plague started, because of the overwhelming mortality rate the higher ups (whoever they are) decided there needed to be a horseman of Pestilence to handle those. See image below for Death and Pascal’s first meeting when he made his debut.

Figure 5 also states he is the “3rd Horseman” meaning one of the other two horseman started working before him, since Death is the 1st. It was Fergie, aka Famine.

At this point, there was a tsundere quality about him and the implication of yaoi was latent. As you can see from Figures, he had a one-way rivalry with Death and was simultaneously jealous and in love with him.

Too lazy to date these individually just know they were from 23rd July 2021 - 18th October 2021, in order of creation.

EARLY TBOD: October 2021 onward

Figure 8. Paz first seen as a girl (23rd February 2022) | Figure 9. New Paz info and first instance of being called "Paz" (18th April 2022) | Figure 10. Paz and Aarum (also 18/4/22)

Around this time was when I ditched the office idea and came up with the idea of Derek (named on 12th September 2021) wanting to have a child with a human. Paz's crush was now a crazy obsession, and also she was in a relationship w Aarum for a while. Canonically, at some point, they broke up some time during Derek's human life. Overall this era in her development was really weird and I'm ashamed of it.

In Figure 9, Paz mentions Derek's "corpses", this is referring to the fact that when Derek first became human he died a lot because he wanted to try different ways of getting hurt and also dying so there were lots of his corpses after he kept dying and coming back. This idea does not carry onto current TBOD because, why, lmao.

There was a plot point where Derek BURIED HER ALIVE for a couple of years (she couldn't die bc she was already dead) because she convinced Aarum to kill Derek earlier than they planned. So weird. This also does not carry onto current TBOD because it's stupid.

Figure 11. The trio celebrating Derek's loss of virginity (18th May 2022)

Quickly all of that weird violence got retconned away and we forgot all about that. Until June 2022 she still had that weird crush that feels like she was cheating on Aarum emotionally. After June, she was a fujo but still dating Aarum, at least the crush wasn't there anymore. I think everything from October 2021 onward is public on derekdemetripoo if you scroll far enough, so I won't include many images.

MODERN TBOD: October 2022 onward

Figure 12. First instance of what would become Paz's new design (23rd October 2022) | Figure 13. Current Paz ref (2nd August 2024)

Figure 12 was never posted because I planned to draw Derek and Aarum there too but got lazy. It was an au where Paz had Derek's role, because at the time I also entertained with an au where Aarum had Derek's role - and from that came Aurele. This drawing was meant to have all 3 of them as gods sitting on chairs. Her chair says Patricia because like Aarum was called Aurele, she needed an au name too. Her dress was inspired by the Haitian Karabela traditional dress iirc because she's Haitian.

I think by now I had gotten rid of the idea of her and Aarum altogether, never dated, just friends. Because Aarum was gay now and Paz was now somewhat romantically/sexually apathetic. Also her and Derek were now more friendly, and she doesn't call him sir anymore. Maybe she did when they first met because he was this weird celestial being, but once they got to know each other she dropped the formalities. Happy ending!

It was always planned that in her past life she was a Haitian volunteer nurse who died by disease in the 1800s. But upon more research she would've had to be a mixed child between a slave and a white man (given the time it was most likely rape) if she had access and freedom to study medicine (albeit informally since women could not go to college). I don't really know how I feel about writing a story like that so I decided to push her death further ahead in time. But yknow if you're gonna write a historical black person there's gonna be slavery/segregation tied to it because the civil rights movement wasn't really that long ago.

At the time of writing this, I still don't know when she died. But I've been entertaining the idea of around the 70s-80s because of the way she dresses. It's probably her old clothes from when she was alive. Maybe it was AIDs. Maybe she accidentally got poked by a non-sterile syringe while volunteering. Who knows. She was 25 when she died and that has been a consistent fact since early TBOD.

Fun fact: I always intended for her to be neurotypical, but I guess things just have a way of happening, she doesn't really give neurotypical anymore. And that's okay. I think it's funny that Derek's only friends aren't normal people either.

I think that's about it for Paz's metahistory! This took a while. A lot of these facts I've just been storing in my head cuz I never made a habit out of writing oc stuff I just remembered it. Which is not a reliable way to store lore.

I've got a couple of requests for other ocs' histories, so I look forward to going down memory lane again. I might even do one on Derek's full metahistory. I tried that once but the max image limit was 10 and also it had stupid commentary. So I might remake it.

Hope you enjoyed reading if you actually read all of this! If you skimmed, this doesn't apply to you. TASER TASER TASER!!!!!!!!!!

[kanobarlowe]

Werewolves and why shapeshifters suck

The big rant has overcome me. Let me explain the best kind of werewolves and why it's not shapeshifters.

The first thing to do is determine what makes a werewolf a werewolf and what makes that kind of werewolf good.

I think the best place to start is the origin of the word and concept of "werewolf" altogether. This is difficult to narrow down, as the topic comes across many cultures, with its own variations and forms, sometimes even different animals—but usually all taking on a similar function to culture and storytelling.

Let's focus on the 2 most common English words for this topic: werewolf, and lycanthropy.

Werewolf: Old English. Description of. Man+Wolf.

Lycanthropy: Greek. Affliction. Wolf+Man.

These two words at their most basic forms tell us a lot about what werewolves should be. The first one, while historically can be seen accommodating basic shapeshifter tropes, has a primary distinction: it is man first. There is no wolf without man. To have a werewolf, one must have man, which implies that the traits and clarity of man's presence is vital for the werewolf to be known and identified as such.

Lycanthropy, meanwhile, has an important difference that supports the Old English, by accident or by design: it is the affliction of wolf onto man. While lycanthropy is wolf emphasized, by its definition of being considered an affliction, notably on mind and/or body depending on literal or literary context, there must be man in the equation for the wolf to then be afflicted to.

Why does this matter? Who cares if man is in the equation?

Well clearly I care!!!!

Before I compare two well-known examples of werewolves in contemporary media, let me make it clear: based even on basic terms and definitions, the presence of man is key for the werewolf to function. How do you possibly make that clear to your audience?

By keeping man present.

If you decide to hide man from your werewolf concept and design, you're just making your end result a wolf. While the man may be present underneath, I would argue that the meaning of both words has now been lost and the wolf has now obscured the man aspect.

Next, we, can examine some popular contemporary werewolves and see what makes them truly horrific (in the best ways of course). Note that I will sadly only be going off of what I am familiar with: if I do not cover a werewolf that you think is good evidence one way or another, it's simply because I am not familiar enough with it to use. For this portion I will reference a top character list I found online.

Remus Lupin: ignoring any controversy around Harry Potter and Rowling, and ignoring his incredibly silly naming scheme, Remus is a classic werewolf. Is his story in book 3/movie 3 not compelling to audiences? I think many would agree that the mystery behind the man and the subsequent learning of his affliction and how he intends to get along despite it is worthy of acknowledging. Not to mention the danger that comes with it when the kids come in contact with him in this form.

David Kessler: I would argue David from An American Werewolf in London is the most iconic and amazing iteration of a werewolf to have existed in contemporary works. Not only are the transformation scenes brutal and grotesque, but the later ambiguity of the validity of his affliction, his lack of knowledge to if his affliction even occurring, not only is classic, but masterly crafted.

Larry Talbot: the OG wolf man and an iconic one at that. Due to effects at the time, the visuals are great for what they could do, and the story of a man who cannot resist the violent nature of the beast that overwhelms him is quintessential to what makes werewolf stories so good.

Daniel Osbourne: another iconic example to many of what makes a good werewolf. One who is meek in human form, but the monstrous side of the werewolf curse shreds through that with power and feats unknown. I can't say much more as it's been a while seen seeing Buffy, but I didn't want to leave Oz out.

Bigby Wolf: while a reversal of the concept, being a wolf inflicted with lycanthropy to give him the power to become a man, Bigby in both iterations of Fables and The Wolf Among Us is still a good example of the man and wolf nature. In the game, you get to see his progressive iterations of transformation, some being more extreme than others. Of course he does technically shapeshift, especially in his last form—but his earlier hybrid iterations are brought on by a unique variant: emotional transformation. When anger is left unchecked and out of control, his beast nature would rise out of the surface of man, which I find compelling. He is an interesting look at the affliction of man onto beast, which is what makes this more shapeshifter-esque nature more appropriate for his case.

Jacob Black: literally what is the point of him being a "werewolf" other than to be different from Edward. Other than giving him some mysterious nature it does little function - and it's an affliction he doesn't deal with at anywhere near the same capacity as the vampires do with theirs in the same book series. If I remember correctly, the only things that are an issue is he just kinda becomes a hot head who doesn't know his own strength? Okay? He's just a shapeshifter. He just turns into a literal wolf. What's the point. Lmao.

There are many more, and ones I wish I could touch on with better knowledge than I do (such as Teen Wolf, Being Human, the Vampire Diaries, and True Blood). But even with these few, I think it's clear that the afflicted, even in a unique role-reversal like Bigby, is far more compelling than shapeshifting. From what I have read about Teen Wolf, I believe it tries to strike a balance between being able to shapeshift when desired but also being afflicted by the full moon, but I would need to see it before I can comment. I am, however, not impressed with the ability to actually just turn into a wolf that is otherwise present. The monster versions look cool though.

Finally, to still rant and make some arguments but to try to not keep this too long, let's consider the impact of affliction vs shapeshifting as the function of the werewolf.

What does a shapeshifter really do to compel a story? In my opinion it renders the werewolf little more than a super power like any other kind—you basically have a 1 form d&d druid shapeshifter, worse yet if they eliminate the aspect of man and make it a full wolf transformation.

What is the impact of a wolf-man affliction? Well I mean... look at it!! Someone who may or may not know what happens to them, unable to resist or fight the bestial nature lurking beneath the surface, maybe even terrified and uncertain of all the death surrounding them! What of the overindulgence, of feeling terribly full, of the taste of meat and metal on the tongue? The horror someone would feel with this beast looming over them, claw and fang and hair and distortion on an otherwise human-like face, creating an uncanny valley effect of human-but-not for the victim.

To conclude: wolf-man is cool. Shapeshifters are also cool, but not for a werewolf narrative.

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Tapati, who is she, and why is she significant?

Well, first, she is a river goddess, but daughter of the sun god, Surya. However, her name means the hot one, the burning one. Interestingly enough, her name is tied to the river she's said to rule over - HOWEVER, language time.

Agni, a vedic fire god, has a scythian counterpart similar in name (and the scythian's are the older culture that broke off to form the vedic, indo iranian/iranian, and levant people as well as others - mixing, breeding, invading).

Back to Tapati.

Her name is cognate with the Scythian supreme fire goddess, Tabiti. Very interesting.

Tabiti is the supreme goddess of all things in the Scythian culture, primordial, the first flame, and much like Ianna (from Summerian mythology I talked about later) went on to inspire entire god/goddess roles, and had mantles inverted as interestingly enough, there's evidence some first/supreme deities were feminine, later flipped to male as cultures evolved - their places/roles attributes assigned to male gods and their places changed - made wives, daughters, so on a similar sort of flipping happens out of the Scythian culture/ proto Indo Europeans (that I've talked about) where the root word for a divine (doesn't mean good just divinely powered) being evolved along languages the ahura, asura, and asir (Norse) come from an older proto Indo-European/Scythian word.

In the Vedic stories, the daevas are good, the asura evil. In the Avestan and Iranian texts...the ahura/asura are good, and the daevas are evil.

We know the Norse asir and vanir warred also very interesting. And interesting how gods/goddesses are changed, subsumed, adopted and more, no? Tabiti was never represented in/by art, btw. Her representation was always an actual fireplace -- a flame. That's what you used.

There's historical written evidence in places of Agni's animal form being both referred to as a bull, AND a cow in places - different genders. And his flame being referred to as female in places.

In the Hindu bronze age, Agni had way more of a prominent role as fire did before later dwindling...as fire does (ooooo symbolic - okay that's just cuz of time and shifting priorities), but there are more similarities of these things in Baltic cultures -- but oh why?

(Why am I hopping around? Cuz gods/goddesses, archetypes, beats, stories all do too - all connected you muppets).

Well, did you know the closest cognate to Sanskrit is Lithuanian? It's kept so much of its proto Indo European roots.

Wait, a South Asian language and Baltic European language are cognates? YUH. WEIRD.

Almost like they both derived out of an older culture, language, their practices, beliefs and more.

And most of human history is just migrating, fucking, invading, and settling in new places and staying long enough until your features continue to change due to bow chicka wow wowing and environment.

Funny how that works.

Here's some Scythian clothing (oh btw, women were warriors/could be too - congrats you learned that).

Does this style look familiar? Yeah, you can see the evolution/adaptation from this to later styles (bearing similarities) in Iran, India, Mongolia, the Baltics.

Cuz....y'know, that's where the proto Indo Europeans went about their biz and got jiggy with it and settled. Wow-wow-wee-wah! Okay now I'm done. Circular ish convo to get there but started with a fire goddess, it's relevant, but it all comes back to this.

Btw, this is also an important lesson for fantasy authors.

Because of all these connections and how old a bad ass fire goddess is, many of the oldest cultures are regarded as fire worshippers (like the Zoroastrians) did you know some keep an eternal burning flame? -- one is in Udvada Gujarat in India.

This flame has been said to have been kept burning for 1,500 years.

FIFTEEN HUNDRED.

And again, while most of the surviving Indo Iranic sun gods are male, there is evidence the ORIGINAL sun deity (including in/from the German, Baltic, and Slavic religions) was FEMALE.

[mindutme]

Tlette Tlursday #11

Let’s talk about maps!

Tlette has two and a half words for maps, to refer to two very different kinds. The first kind is a tlalkequ /tɬaɬ.ˈkɛ.qu/, or tlalké /tɬaɬ.ˈke/ for short. The longer word is used in formal Tlette, and the shorter one in informal speech. Their plurals are tlalkeqúy /tɬaɬ.kɛ.ˈquj/ and tlalkéy /tɬaɬ.ˈkej/ respectively. This kind of map is relatively small-scale, used for navigation. The category includes street maps of towns and cities and maps of roads between nearby towns and cities, but not much larger-scale than that. The word comes from the verb kequ /ˈkɛ.qu/, meaning “to guide” or “to lead.” It’s derived as an inanimate agentive noun, like tlahllán, so it literally means “thing that guides.”

Tlalkéy are often very inacurrate in terms of scale and proportion. They’re not attempts to accurately depict the world as it is; instead, they’re navigational tools. They show how roads meet and what landmarks they are, which are the important things one needs when traveling, but will often distort distances and angles as a matter of convenience for the mapmaker and map-reader. In a way they’re a lot like subway maps!

From left to right: tlalkequ, tlalké, tlalkeqúy, tlalkéy, kequ.

To talk about the other kind of map, first I need to talk about the world where Tlette is spoken. I’ve talked a bit about it in some previous posts, but here’s a brief overview: it’s a fantasy world that is completely fixed in space, neither orbiting a sun nor rotating on an axis. It has no moon, so the only celestial objects are the stars, which don’t move in the sky—unless you travel. For every star in the sky, there’s a place on the surface of the world where that star is directly overhead, and for many cultures each star is thought of as a deity that protects that part of the world.

This is true of the Tlette people and their neighbors who speak Mindutme. The associations between places and stars are so strong that the Tlette word for the Mindutme speakers is Kottúllate, derived from name of the brightest star above where those people live. Many other exonyms in Tlette are derived from the names of stars rather than names from the respective languages. Tlette fiction even sometimes describes travelers journeying to far-off lands, referring to made-up places and peoples with names of stars that Tlette speakers are familiar with.

So the other kind of map that Tlette speakers use is called a kıssì /kɨs.ˈsɨ/, plural kısswí /kɨs.ˈswi/. The word comes from a borrowing from Old Mindutme, *kus suu, literally “star paper.” It’s basically a star map with additions, showing (usually with two different colors of ink) major stars and major cities, plus some combination of coastlines, rivers, roads, borders, and such.

kıssì, kısswí

Because kıssì maps are drawn so that the stars on the paper match the stars as they are seen in the sky, the geographical features on them are actually mirrored! If you were to travel using such a map, you would orient it with your destination at the bottom. That way, the stars above you are near the center of the map, and those nearer to the horizon ahead of you are at the bottom, and stars to your left are on the left side of the paper as well. You could also think of holding the map above your head to match up with the stars, in which case the bottom of the map actually is farther ahead. But Tlette speakers are used to mirrored maps, so they don’t usually do that.

The map at the top of the post is a kıssì. It’s more of a sketch, really, and not necessarily final—I’m not sure how much I want to even define the map of this world at all. Don’t look too closely or you’ll see I don’t really know much about how rivers work!

The map is labeled Tan Qelút /ˌtã.qɛ.ˈlut/, “The Known World,” though it’s a fairly small portion of the world. In black are the stars and national borders, drawn very abstractly. Some other maps may show borders in more detail, but they are often defined broadly as paths between major stars, and narrowly by geographical features that line up with those paths for a stretch. The large polygon is Lwé Tlette, and the smaller one to its left is Lwé Kottúllate, where Mindutme is spoken; the large star within that region is Kottú. A few other important stars are also labeled, and in purple are coastlines and rivers.

[x-i-l-verify]

「Dream SMP Daemon AU 」

    ⚔ TECHNOBLADE + ALEKSAIX (BROADSWORD) ⚔

Piglins, as denizens of the Nether, do not have daemons as Overworlders do. Rather, their souls take the form of weapons, called morai-kelul ("forged-self"). Morai-kelul come in all shapes and sizes, from swords, knives, spears, bows, maces, hammers, sickles, clubs, chains, brass knuckles, and many, many more. When a piglin child reaches the equivalent of one year of age, their main adult caretakers, blood-related or not, will bring them into the village forge, and begin construction on the child's morai-kelul in a very sacred series of rituals that take months to complete. The construction always involves at least some amount of gold, a spiritual, coveted metal to piglins. Once the weapon is forged, it is named for an aspirational virtue or concept that their caretakers wish to impart to them, such as "bravery," "insight," "candor," etc.

As the piglin grows and changes over time, however, the first morai-kelul forged by their caretaker(s) will eventually break. This happens to everyone at some point in their lives, and is a very painful event mentally and emotionally. When this happens, the piglin must construct a new morai-kelul with the pieces of the old one, which always takes a form different from the first. A spear might become a dagger, an axe might become a crossbow, a sword might become a shield, etc. Outside of this event, morai-kelul are indestructible by most normal means unless their piglin dies, in which case they become a normal, inanimate object.

Unlike Overworlders and their daemons, there is no limit to how far a piglin can travel away from their morai-kelul, and they can summon them from over great distances. The only exceptions to this are traveling from the Nether to the Overworld, the Overworld to the End or the Nether, or traveling between servers; if a piglin tries to go between servers or dimensions without their morai-kelul, they will instantly become like a zombie, with a living body but no conscious mind.

Piglins have no issue with touching each other's morai-kelul. In fact, it is common for piglins, especially the children, to go up to someone with a really cool-looking one and ask to hold it so they can examine it more closely. However, the morai-kelul must be handed to them in order for them to hold it. For example, if Philza tried to pick up Aleksaix off the table or off the ground, he would not be able to; Technoblade would need to hand it to him in order for him to carry it properly. Mates swap morai-kelul during their wedding ceremonies, and fighting with someone else's morai-kelul is considered the highest show of intimacy and trust a piglin can display.

Morai-kelul do not speak with an audible voice like facets such as daemons do. Rather, they communicate in projected feelings and images. Normally, only its piglin half can communicate directly with it, but if it is being held by someone else, it can communicate with that person as well. They also are always referred to as "it" rather than with gendered pronouns.

Technoblade is wary, blunt and insincere. Aleksaix embodies his idealistic, sensitive, trusting side.

~

NAME MEANING "Aleksaix" means "responsibility" in the piglin tongue. It is rather uncommon for piglins to freely tell others the name of their morai-kelul without knowing them well first, so Technoblade has taken to saying the name of his is Orphan Obliterator as in inside joke. Very few people are familiar enough with piglin culture to call him on this.

~

SOURCES I took this concept and many ideas surrounding it from this person's concept for Asgardian daemons, so credit where credit is due.

[petefromarma]

ik just observing hanukkah does not a “good jew” make but your insistence that joe hates being jewish is just strange and off base to me… when i read his memoir i just saw a guy that had a lot of bad experiences with antisemitism and is discussing it because it’s a book about bad experiences. not once did i get the feeling that he hates being jewish or judaism. he’s talked positively about growing up and being jewish in places other than his book although it seems like that’s the only source you ever use??? which again is a book about his trauma so of course it skews negative…

anyways what you said about him saying they don’t do hanukkah in NOTR sounds familiar although for some reason i can’t find it for the life of me rn and i don’t remember the context which is probably important but other than that he brought a menorah out on tour in 2015 (posted a picture on ig with the caption “haven’t done this in awhile” or smth like that and pete also posted a picture and said joe taught him a prayer) and then in 2021 he mentioned it being the first night of hanukkah and that he’s giving presents to ruby & zayda on his podcast. obviously im not going to claim he observes it fully or even every year but like you said his observance or lack of is not really important, just thought i’d add context. he also said in another podcast that he & marie were considering sending zayda to JCC and that they have passover dinner. he even talks about all the jewish food he likes… he even says he likes gefilte fish and i think my rabbi would argue that makes him a great jew!!! (/j) he also said in an interview from 2007 that he thought about going back to synagogue which obviously is outdated but that isn’t giving “i hate being jewish!!!” imo.

anyways my point being he hasn’t completely distanced himself from judaism or even expressed hatred for it like you seem to so strongly believe? it actually bewilders me how you talk about joe and his jewishness and it just seems so unnecessarily negative and built upon your own (clearly biased) assumptions. i’m genuinely curious how you came to these conclusions originally and why

i think this would be a more productive conversation if you came off anon and we could have this discussion privately but i'm going to assume you're not going to do that because i don't think you sent this in good faith due to the accusation that i'm biased. so

i don't label people as 'good' or 'bad' jews; i'm not in the habit of championing zionist talking points. imo he struggles with internalized antisemitism. most of the posts i make about this are at least somewhat exaggerated. they're not completely serious. also, i reference his memoir because i've read it and i haven't listened to these podcasts you're talking about? i'm not particularly interested in doing so either so i'll assume what you're saying is accurate; if that's the case then i think it's a good thing that he's familiarizing his children with their culture

this may surprise you but i actually strongly believe that the road for reconnecting with one's jewishness should not be lead thru institutions bc they're often a gateway for zionist propaganda (this is, verbatim, what happened with gabe saporta and what has happened to more than a few people i've known irl); hope he's teaching his children about being jewish, can't say i hope he's getting them involved with JCC

the portion of the book i will always come back to wrt his internalized antisemitism is the very odd recounting of the interaction cathie had with a group of hasidic men. tbh i dislike organized orthodoxy in its current state about as much as joe does, and yeah, you gotta do your best to avoid the hasids around the holidays when you're walking home from the gym around 80th and broadway, whatever, but the conclusion joe draws from this, that he was in danger of being kidnapped, and that his mom should have known that but somehow didn't, is...weird? almost canard-y. like, no, dude, the hasids with the light up magen david weren't gonna kidnap you. this and him referring to his wife as a shiksa colored my expectations for the rest of the book and it was difficult not to read his experiences with his mother and his jewishness through this lens. i do think he's proud of being jewish, in his own way, and that there are times in the book when he shows reverence specifically for USamerican ashkenazi culture, but i also think he's largely been unable to separate this facet of his identity from his childhood trauma and his relationship with his mother. i feel as though it's easy to understand how this in conjunction with him raising his children culturally christian would lend to an interpretation of joe still dealing with some form of internalized antisemitism. now, if that last part isn't true, then that's my bad, but it isn't going to change my impression of that portion of the book

i could say more abt cathie and richard and joe's perception of them plus the manner in which misogyny toward jewish women manifests in secular-but-culturally-connected families but i kind of don't want to get into it. if you want to talk more about this you can send another anon but i'd prefer you just DM me

[wodania]

What's your process of elaborating costumes and cultural markings in your art? I really love the Targaryen face paint you go for and also how you portray Betha's clothes so I was really curious as to where it all comes from!

In terms of the Targaryens, I mostly use Byzantine reference, though I also like playing with my own styles based off of Byzantine silhouettes and trends. Betha’s dress in my Betha and Egg piece is pretty strictly Byzantine-inspired with the decorated collar and cuffs. Her hair was my own creative choice and wasn’t based off of anything in particular. Her crown was inspired by some costumes in the film Ophelia, which I haven’t watched but am familiar with the costumes of. I drew her in Targaryen attire due to her being Queen Consort of King Aegon V. As a note about Egg, his own costume isn’t inspired by any culture, actually. Instead, it’s entirely my own creation. The style does hold up against the Byzantine-inspired costumes, however, so it doesn’t look out of place.

The Targaryen face paint has ended up becoming a staple of my artwork, and the secret behind it was honestly the Valyrian wedding costumes from House of The Dragon. In the scene, Rhaenyra and Daemon smear each other’s blood upon each other’s lips as part of the wedding ritual. I thought the concept was cool, so I took it and turned it into a style of face paint. As for the patterns I use, the red smear on the lip and chin is a callback to the wedding costume in the show, while any other patterns are my own creative addition. I only ever use bright red for them due to blood being the original inspiration, as well as a present theme with House Targaryen. The face paint also doesn’t show up in every piece featuring a Targaryen, as in my concepts, it has gone out of fashion by the time asoiaf begins. That’s why Shaera is depicted as having it but her sister isn’t; it’s considered ‘traditional’ and ‘old fashioned’. Daenys has it because she’s valyrian, while Dany wears it bc I think the symbolism is cool.

[gojonanami]

Dear Sab,

Perhaps these feelings are spurred by my own personal journey, but what do you think about basing a story around a sorcerer unfamiliar with jujutsu way of life and lexicon being thrust into this world upon a sudden shift that occurred within the clans?

I was just thinking—there is something peculiar about being attached to a culture and being inundated with it, and having it be something that defines you to the people around you, and, when facing it face-on, realising how little you know of it, how out of touch you are, how much of a foreigner you are, and how the skin you don and the face you show to the rest of the world may be questioned and dissected when a realisation sets forth that the culture that you identify with and use to identify yourself may not be one with which you are intimately and innately familiar with.

This is a lot of jargon, I concede, but what I’m trying to say is this: as I was landing and as I was looking out of the window, the plane touching the ground, the wheels whirring and landing with a soundly whoosh, I found myself thinking how strange it would be if I were to place myself in the shoes of a sorcerer who led a life of normalcy only to be plunged not only into the lives of clans and a foreign country, but also into an arranged marriage.

There is something profoundly alienating about realising that the country and culture you identify with aren’t ones that you’re deeply familiar with. Having to answer at passport control in a foreign language, debating whether to speak in a broken tongue or practiced English, the feeling of being at one with oneself and in dissonance with oneself, and the feeling of the soil being one of your ancestors and the blood that runs through your veins while also being one that is moving and changing in ways that are unfamiliar and surprising to you.

I am getting awfully off-track here; forgive me. It’s nearly six a.m. where I am, and I haven’t slept the whole night. 

What I’m trying to say is this: I’m projecting, and in my projection, I found the idea of a sorcerer reader entering an arranged marriage and being forced to grapple with settling clan dynamics and leading a clan while being unfamiliar with the culture of jujutsu and the codes of value that come with it utterly fascinating.

And isn’t it fascinating, too, that Suguru, who doesn’t come from a sorcerer family, is more familiar with it? Because he breathes and lives in the air of Japan, moves in that country, encounters and practices jujutsu on a daily basis, and encounters curses large and small, the existence of which almost defines the way and the reason for jujutsu. 

Doesn’t that also open up a discussion of who owns a culture and whether a culture can be owned? Reader’s bloodline is filled with jujutsu spirit, but in their heart, they have none. For Suguru, perhaps, it’s the opposite.

And would Suguru scorn the fact that Reader lived a normal life, attending a prestigious university, having a good, stable job (perhaps, depending on Reader's age), while turning a blind eye to jujutsu, the horrors of life, and the pride of heritage? I do not know.

Just some food for thought!

this is so interesting and I love it so much — I will be keeping this as a reference because even if I don’t use the suguru x non sorcerer reader idea, I think this line of thought could be transposed to a lot of different ideas.

the other idea I’ve been toying with is a royalty au with suguru where jujutsu exists still — but where reader is thrust into this culture that she is not familiar with and has to navigate, with a husband who is not too pleased to be married to her but is with her for political reasons

…I just love the idea 👀