#also quality got a bit butchered

[lavenoon]

@naffeclipse trying for another animation, have a wip of the fool <3

[tetedurfarm]

get started in meat rabbits masterpost!

yesterday i accidentally hijacked a friend's post and got way more engagement than i expected, which is both amazing and exhausting. so today i present to you: a big post full of resources and answers to the most common questions i've been getting! please refer to this now before dming me with questions <3

information below the cut!

why rabbits?

because they're one of (and in my opinion, THE,) best small-scale meat animal out there. they are relatively small, extremely quiet, can live in cages and therefore do not take up much space, and have a higher feed conversion rate (meaning they make more meat per lb of feed) than chickens, and their poop is AMAZING for gardening! in the footprint of a washer and dryer you can have a trio of breeding animals and space for growing out their litters if you use stacking cages. you just can't beat that.

what do they taste like?

like chicken or turkey. domestic rabbit meat is a very mild, white meat, and can be substituted for chicken in almost every meal. most of my rabbit i grind into mince and use it in place of ground beef. my rabbits, at least, get enough fat to make it unnecessary to cut the mince with pork or beef fat, so even the burgers are really juicy!

will you sell me some meat?

unfortunately in the state of washington it is illegal to sell meat that has been processed at home. at best i could sell you a whole rabbit but you'd have to butcher it yourself.

how much do they cost?

this depends heavily on where you live, though imo they have a fairly low upfront cost relative to other livestock. your biggest upfront expensive will be cages, though you can find good deals on cages and other equipment at livestock auctions/swaps and craiglist/kijiji/similar. the rabbits themselves can be anywhere from free to $100+, though i personally would not pay more than $30-$35 USD for a meat animal (but again, your average prices may vary.) after that, it's all in the price of feed.

feed costs vary from area to area and brand to brand - generally a locally milled feed will be a bit more cost-effective but they can also be lower quality so do your research. depending on your area, you can also feed rabbits partially or even completely on forage or pasture, just make sure you keep an eye on your parasite loads and weights to ensure they are eating enough.

this is a good site that discusses rabbit safe forage: https://riseandshinerabbitry.com/2012/02/26/safe-food-list-for-rabbits/

and this is a good site discussing hay: https://hoppyharlequinsrabbitry.weebly.com/hay-chart.html

this page is focused on other larger livestock but is a decent basic rundown on reading a feed lablel: https://s3.wp.wsu.edu/uploads/sites/2070/2023/03/FS138E_Reading-a-Feed-Tag.pdf

and a basic overview of rabbit nutrition: https://www.merckvetmanual.com/exotic-and-laboratory-animals/rabbits/nutrition-of-rabbits#Pelleted-Diets_v54343534

i do not personally believe that feeding hay is necessary for rabbits to be healthy, which is contrary to what most of you may have heard from online sources. we'll talk about that in a minute. all commercially-available pelleted rabbit feets are made with hay, and the 'long-stem' thing you read about is based on studies in ruminant animals that DO need a 'grass mat' to digest properly...but rabbits are not ruminants. they chew up their hay into fine dust, which is basically what pellets are anyway.

what other equipment do i need?

obviously, your first step should be cages. i prefer cages that are either 24x24 or 30x30 inches depending on the size of the rabbit. you generally want a cage big enough for the animal to lay flat on its belly with its legs out and not touch at least one of the sides (i prefer them to be able to touch none,) and tall enough that they can sit up comfortably. i like to err on the side of larger for breeding does, since their nestbox will take up floor space for a few weeks, and the kits need room to run around and grow before they are weaned. weaned kits need a larger cage or hutch to grow out in until they are eating size.

these cages can be wire bottomed or solid bottomed, just be aware of the hygiene differences between these styles of cages. wire cages are not evil, and will not harm a rabbit's feet provided it has proper density of fur. you can avoid foot problems by buying and breeding rabbits with well-furred feet.

other necessary equipment includes: feeders (j-feefers or pro-b feeders are my favourites), some way to provide water such as bottles, crocks, or an automatic watering system, a hay rack if you want to provide hay, grooming tools such as combs and brushes (if applicable; most rabbits will not need much grooming,) nail clippers, a first-aid kit containing things such as scissors, vet wrap, antibiotic gels and drops, saline solution, fenbendazole (brand name panacur, a dewormer,) gas medications such as simethicone/gas-x, critical care (a specially formulated powdered feed that you can mix into a gruel and syringe feed rabbits that won't eat on their own,) probiotic powder, electrolyte powder, and of course, toys!

make sure any provided toys are edible (so avoid plastic,) and will not get turned into mush and cause dirty mats in the cage when peed on. toilet paper and paper towel tubes are great, as are just chunks of untreated lumber offcuts, wooden baby blocks, or soda boxes. if you have some splurging money, bird toy websites like abirdtoy.com have amazing selections of things that rabbits love destroying. i recommend the refillable skewers!

what about vet care?

this is a fairly divisive topic. most vets do not know much about rabbits, and those that do are typically operating on outdated or simply untrue information that aligns with animal rights groups. therefore, a lot of meat and show breeders do not trust or use vets unless the situations are dire or there is disease testing to be done, and then generally we'll go to our state's ag exstension or college lab. i don't want to come off as anti-vet, i am far from it. but i and most people i know have not had good experiences with vets treating rabbits.

in general, exotic animal vet care (and yes, rabbits are considered exotic pets,) is extremely cost-prohibitive in general, much less when you have multiple animals. like most farmers, rabbit breeders typically handle basic medical situations ourselves.

medirabbit is a great resource for rabbit medical information including illnesses and medication dosages: https://www.medirabbit.com/

how many rabbits do i need?

the average litter size is between 5 and 8 kits, and rabbits can breed montly (though i recommend giving the girls breaks between litters depending on how they kept condition.) a trio of one buck and two does can produce a very good amount of meat for a one or two person household. my spouse and i lived on five or six litters a year for a very long time, using rabbit as our primary meat source!

do they need friends?

no. despite what house rabbit circles tell you, rabbits do NOT need companions and in fact having cagemates can stress them out unnecessarily. rabbits live in warrens in the wild, yes, but that is a survival tactic and the warrens are usually very violent and only work because they can run away when they need to. in capitivity, rabbits that are cohabitated can and commonly will KILL one another. it is much safer and less stressful to keep rabbits in their own spaces. i promise they won't mind.

rabbit colonies, where they are raised together in more 'natural' systems, are becoming very popular with homesteading circles but you should not jump into colonies as your first way to keep rabbits. they require just as much if not even more time and effort to manage than your typical cage setup. plus, you have to have the space to do that, which not everyone has.

can you help me find rabbits?

maybe! if you live in the united states and are comfortable sharing your local craigslist, i can take a look and link you to any rabbits or equipment i think would be worth your time. if you are local to me in western washington's i-5 corridor counties, i may have rabbits i can sell you for the price of feed and gas, but that depends on availability. if you are on the olympic peninsula in kitsam, jefferson, or clallam counties, hit up my buddy ren @buttonbuckfarm for similar services.

arent't they really fragile?

yes and no. rabbits are prey animals with an extremely specialised digestive system. if you are familiar with horses...same deal. if a rabbit stops eating, it will die, and they love bloating/colicking just like horses. there are also a few diseases that are common in rabbits that you should keep an eye out for, especially if you pasture or forage raise.

that being said, rabbits are not made of glass. you can flip them, you can poke them, prod them, put them in a car, drive them across the country, and squish them into weird shapes on a show table. as long as you take precautions during stressful situations and desensitise them to things like handling and transport early, they're shockingly physically hardy despite their sensitive guts.

i'm scared to kill them...what if i mess up?

it's perfectly understandable to fear the end of the process of raising rabbits. and accidents do happen. slaughter is a skill that must be practiced, and maybe you can take solace in knowing that we have all messed one up at some point or another. when this happens, the only thing you can do is try again as quickly as you can until you can confirm the animal is dead. and then take a minute to decompress.

it comes easy to me, but i know that is not true for everyone. but i am a firm believer that if you are going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and how it gets to your plate. the best thing we can do for our food is to give it a wonderful life, kill as kindly as we can, and use as much of it as we are able.

here is the AVMA's list of approved humane slaughter methods: https://www.avma.org/sites/default/files/2020-02/Guidelines-on-Euthanasia-2020.pdf

and you can find pretty good videos of the various methods demonstrated on rabbits specifically on youtube:

broomstick, choke chain, bunny ballista, hopper popper

please be aware that the above videos show animals being killed. though if you are reading this i imagine you are prepared to see that.

how do i process them once they're dead?

this is another one you can find pretty good videos of online. visiting a local rabbit show may get you in contact with someone willing to teach you in person, as well!

i am working on a big project website that is basically all i think you should know about raising rabbits, which will include detailed slaughter, skinning, and butchering videos, though as of now these are not available. i plan to have this project at least usably done by the end of the year!

ok so what's the thing with pet owners vs breeders

you may have noticed that i've been doing some 'as you may have heard' debunking in this post. that's because there is a very huge divide between the beliefs and practices of pet rabbit owners versus show and meat breeders and owners. why? well, that's complicated, but the big bad evil guy that is the first place to point at is the House Rabbit Society, or HRS.

the house rabbit society is basically rabbit PETA. i am not joking. here is a big masterpost on all their bullshittery: https://www.tumblr.com/o-i-have-too/185596917579/a-masterpost-of-house-rabbit-society-bullshit

i know this comes off as me having an agenda, and i guess i can't say that i don't, but i believe that the HRS' rules and rhetoric are not just wrong they are actively dangerous to follow. i have owned rabbits for nearly a decade and have produced more somewhere in the 1,500 range of animals in that time. i have owned a LOT of rabbits and have experienced all the different ways they can thrive and die and have done a lot of experimenting to find what works. just about everything the HRS says about caring for rabbits is blatantly false according to my experience. proper wire cage floors do not destroy feet. rabbits do not need hay if they eat a good pelleted diet. pellets are not evil or 'fattening' or the main cause of stasis. rabbits do not need leafy greens or veggies. rabbits do not need to be bonded. they are perfectly happy living alone, in cages. flipping a rabbit is not torture and is in fact sometimes necessary for many reasons. meat and show breeders are generally not contributing to the 'overpopulation' problem - if we don't want an animal most of us just eat them. breeding for meat is not evil if it's done appropriately and they are killed humanely.

unfortunately the HRS won the google SEO game and so their website and the sites of others that believe their rhetoric are the only thing that comes up on the first pages of search results. i'm not saying you have to blindly trust me, but i have the experience, and the combined experience of many of my peers both online and offline, that says that basically everything they believe in and preach is just...not true.

anyway that's it, hope this answers most of your questions! i may add to this in the future depending on what other questions i may get. stay tuned for updates on my website project and in general more farm content, rabbit and otherwise :)

[suntoru]

─ ✰ BREWING AFFECTION.

✧˚ · . NAGI SEISHIRO loves sleeping, soccer, and gaming. he also doesn’t mind you coffee too.

— warnings: coffee shop! au, fluff, crackfic, reo hating on readers barista skills, downbad nagi (hes oblivious af), maybe ooc?

— author’s note: NOT TUMBLR BUTCHERING THE QUALITY OF MY HEADER. THIS IS NOT OK.

"…so… this was the coffee shop you were talking about?” reo probes nagi tentatively, face crinkled in slight confusion. the small café nestled in the hidden corner of some obscure street— nothing extravagant, and certainly not what he expected. it’s a quiet sanction, only a few patrons savoring the quiet ambience of the modest establishment.

"mhm," nagi hums in affirmation. his eyes are glued to his screen, fingers violently tapping his phone as he skillfully maneuvers through the critical attack from the boss battle. reo doubts he was listening to a word he was saying. he raises his eyebrows skeptically, surveying the surroundings of the quaint little shop. he’s well aware nagi sacrifices fifteen whole minutes of his precious sleep on wednesdays and saturdays to walk all the way here— there must, has to be something special about this place. yet all he can spot are a couple of worn-down couches, cute decorations, and the smell of grinding beans in the air; nothing particularly stands out.

'is the coffee just that good?' reo wonders to himself, his thoughts interrupted when you hastily set a tray down at their table. your hair is tied in a messy bun, name tag displayed largely at the side of your stained apron. "i'm so sorry— morning rush! two triple foam lattes, half a shot of espresso with a dash of cinnamon, right?" the words tumble out, an apology and a question all in one, accompanied by a warm aura that absolutely nobody else in customer service seemed to carry.

…that’s… not…. even close… he deadpans. “um, actually—” he starts, but is quickly interrupted by nagi cutting him off. “t’s good. thanks.” he mutters, hazy half-lidded grey eyes boring into your oblivious, starry-eyed ones. the tips of his ears turn the slightest bit pink as he blows a tuft of his hair out of his eyes. his phone is completely discarded, ‘GAME OVER.’ pixelated largely on his screen as reo’s eyes widen slightly. …did he… die on purpose? no way. but… he was just about to beat the whole game…?

you smile giddily. finally, you got an order right!! “really? i’m so glad! enjoy your drink!” you eagerly exclaim as you walk away, feeling encouraged to pump out the other orders.

“…we ordered two large macchiatos.” nagi shrugs lazily, fiddling with the plastic straw in his drink. “tastes the same. ‘t’s too much of a hassle to correct them.”

“whatever,” reo sighs, “we’ve been waiting thirty minutes for this— it better make my mouth orgasm.” thirstily taking a huge slurp of the drink, he lets the coffee settle for a moment before not so subtly gagging at the aftertaste. how can someone possibly screw up this badly? it tastes like… tepid brown water. this should be a war crime. no offense, but who thought it was a good idea to hire you? “uhm… it’s *retches* certainly an acquired flavour…” he represses another gag as the fluffy white haired male tunes him out once again.

as reo contemplates the questionable quality of his latte, nagi remains blissfully unaware of his own feelings, doing what he does every wednesday and saturday morning— unconsciously admire you from a distance, his attention shifting from reo to you. his fingers idly trace the ridges on the rim of the cup, distractedly watching as you struggle to get the coffee to start brewing.

and he can’t exactly understand why his heart is beating out of his chest (perhaps he’s having a stroke), why his face is tinted red (is it the cold nipping at his cheeks?), or why he only seems to want coffee when you’re there (it simply tastes different). it all doesn’t make sense to nagi’s simple little life, a simple repetition every day; sleep, soccer, game.

nagi seishiro finds the easiest of tasks to be a hassle. yet for some strange reason, waking up early on wednesdays and saturdays isn’t one of them.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[nmakii]

‘Can I ask you to do something about Alastor×reader? About y/n being a modern girl (2023-2024), and she often has strange gestures or words towards Alastor. One time she talked to him in modern language, making him confused and very curious. (You can expand the situation as you like, sorry my English is not very good)’

NEW IS ALWAYS BETTER!

— alastor x modern!reader (platonic or romantic!)

— alastor calls reader “good girl” so mostly fem!coded

— I WROTE THIS AND THEN IT GOT DELETED I MIGHT KMS.

alastor gets slangs that are common such as LOL, WTF, IDK but doesn’t get some that aren’t as common like LMFAO, IDRC, or WTAF since they’re just making them longer, so it’s quite useless…

he also doesn’t quite get shortcuts for words. one time you left him a note “lol brb rq imma b back in like 20 min. j gon pick smt up” most of it was honestly gibberish to him, but at the very least, he understood you’ll be back in 20 minutes.

gets really angry when you say things like “stop reaching, gooner. you’re just pissed that you’re a beta.” because; one, you’re blatantly disrespecting the radio demon and telling him to shut up. and two, he doesn’t get what any of that meant. what’s a gooner?

also gets annoyed often when you start singing songs like “i’m the alpha, i’m the leader” or “sticking out your gyatt for the rizzler” because, it’s a reflection on modern society and how music quality in modern times have plummeted significantly.

what happened to those beautiful songs such as “the man i love”? has it been replaced by this rizzler nonsense??? honestly, you’re giving alastor more and more reasons to dislike modernity… you’re lucky he finds your company enjoyable

in a desperate attempt to connect with you, he asked angel about your humor, hoping he’d understand. alastor knows that if anything, velvette would know. but, he’d rather get beaten by lucifer than ask the vees for help…

sadly for him, angel is just as confused. although, he at least knew what this alpha bullshit was, vaguely explaining furries and the alpha-beta-omegaverse to him…

you were in the hotel den, scrolling on social media as alastor walked in. “s/o, be a dear and fetch me some chicken breasts from the butcher, would you? i’d like to prepare something for tonight’s dinner.” alastor smiled

“hmm… nah. go do it yourself, furry” you giggled brattishly. “hahah… what did you call me?” alastor asked sternly, his face now close with yours, antlers increasing only slightly in size. “ah…” you stuttered.

alastor was never this mad when you said stuff like that, what was so different today? maybe he was in a bad mood? “ah… ill get it…” you conceded, using your hands to lightly push alastor away, lest he decides you’ll be for dinner…………

alastor snickered before patting you on the head. “good girl. don’t call me that again, this old dog can still learn new tricks, y’know?” he teasingly sang out. “huh?” you asked. “did you learn what a furry is?” you bit your lip, holding back your laughter.

“indeed, i did. horrifying that you’d think i would indulge in such hobbies…” he sighed, looking a little uncomfortable through his stressed smile. “what..? i don’t think you’re a furry, alastor. it’s not that deep. furry is just something that i used to laugh about with my friends back on earth.” you shallowly laughed, copying his actions by rubbing his hair.

he has to admit, that little mistranslation was a little funny looking back on it. but, he is a little disheartened that he got you scared over nothing. you were just having your fun and he got all pissed off. he’d definitely try to instead ask you about your slang as to prevent such a thing again…

[battyratzz]

Red Apocalypse AU/headcanon Tom. I gave him so many details but I had fun designing him

Here is his reference sheet. Im a bit worried about his last name being too similar to Ridgewell but Riotwell sounded too cool 😭 just know that I see the characters completely separate from their voice actors hence why I made my own versions of them I just wanted to clear that up

Also Tord's little group is called the "Red Resistance"

here's some close ups and idk maybe this falls under tomtord? idk I put the tag anyway I mean, it is kinda implied in the au that feelings are involved but it's more so tord that has feelings while Tom is genuinely oblivious to it

[Edit] you will have to click on some of the images because for some reason the quality of tom got butchered for some reason 😭

[tozettastone]

Fantasy Novels Recommended By Vibes

A note about warnings and assumptions: I have given no content warnings, but most of these books have them, usually for violence or sexism. Except the middle grade books. I have assumed everyone knows who Tolkien and Jordan and Le Guin and GRRM are and does not require me to recommend them once more. I have also assumed that everyone following me has read and enjoyed the trashiest of fanfiction at some point or other.

Now, let's go.

"I want something that feels like reading the unhinged fanfiction of a 16 year old girl, but written by and for adults so the sex scenes don't make me feel deeply uncomfortable."

Oh boy. Okay. Don't worry, I've got you.

The Black Jewels trilogy by Anne Bishop. High fantasy. If you like to categorise things you will love the worldbuilding in this. Weird and gender essentialist, although not in the way you might expect.

The Merry Gentry series by L K Hamilton. Urban fantasy. Degrades in quality over time. I would say: read the first two, and then continue at your discretion depending on your tolerance.

"Do you have a version of this that is not quite so focused on sex as worldbuilding?"

I do, I do. Not everything that reads like unhinged fanfiction must automatically contain smut.

A Deadly Education and The Last Graduate by Naomi Novik. It's billed as adult fantasy, but it reads like YA. If you like 2010s fanfiction and wish it were better written more often, you'll love these two.

Any book by Mercedes Lackey will read exactly like fanfiction. I make no comments as to technical quality, but if you like hurt/comfort idfic, you will like these. If you're looking for a zero-romance, one-book introduction to these books, I'd try Brightly Burning.

"That's still a bit too adult. I want something that's fine to read with kids, too!"

Sure! Fantasy loves YA and kids' books, haha.

The Dark Is Rising sequence by Susan Cooper. Middle grade fantasy, leaning heavily on English folklore.

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn. Young adult urban fantasy. Concerned with the legacy of slavery in the US.

The Old Kingdom trilogy by Garth Nix. Young adult high fantasy. The pacing is strong, the worldbuilding is rad.

Tithe by Holly Black. Young adult fantasy. Her later books are better loved but I reread Tithe and then went and read The Cruel Prince for the first time this year and Tithe is better.

The Tortall books by Tamora Pierce. I like The Immortals, but reasonable minds will differ on this one. Middle grade high fantasy.

The Black Magician trilogy by Trudi Canavan. High fantasy, young adult.

"Okay, now I want young adult fantasy like that, but weird."

Weird. Hmm. Okay. Try:

The Tooth Fairy by Graham Joyce. Horror and fantasy, young adult, but not like... too young an adult. Give it to a 15 year old, not a 10 year old.

"That's... too weird. Put some weird back. I want something suitable for teens that's committed to the aesthetics of weirdness, but is not actually weird."

Alright, here are a couple:

Anatomy: A Love Story by Dana Schwartz. Historical fantasy, definitely young adult. The grizzly aesthetics of 19th century graverobbing are a gossamer veil over a cute, but not particularly sophisticated, YA novel.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. Middle grade fantasy. Less weird than it thinks it is, but still fun to read.

"Enough kids' stuff. I want fast-moving urban fantasy!"

Urban fantasy occupies a weird nexus between fantasy and detective noir, which I'm kinda into. Here are my suggestions:

I think everyone who wants urban fantasy is probably aware of the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, but I'll put it here anyway because there's a big fandom for the Dresden Files so if you stick it out for a bit you get access to all the fics. The first one will take you 3.5 hours and if you don't like it, move on — the writing doesn't really change. Also has a TV series.

The Felix Castor novels by Mike Carey. Urban fantasy, a little more grim, but definitely better written.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch. Urban fantasy. Main character is a police officer. I recently finished the first of these books and it was pretty fun, but I can't speak to the remainder of the series.

"Tozette, I fucking loved True Blood."

You're in luck, I can make this a whole category.

I bet you've heard of the Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris already, but if you haven't, it's what the TV series was based on. Urban fantasy, but actually kind of rural.

Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter by L K Hamilton. Urban fantasy. Another LKH series that starts fun and degrades rapidly. The first three are fun, they come in an omnibus. I was obsessed with this series when I was 17, which both is and isn't a recommendation. Again, this series has a large fandom.

Dime Store Magic and Industrial Magic by Kelley Armstrong. Urban fantasy. The rest of the Women of the Otherworld series is hit or miss for me, but I do recall liking No Humans Involved.

The Blood Books by Tanya Huff. Urban fantasy. Read if you've ever wished Harry Dresden was female. Also has a TV series!

"Do you have some traditional high fantasy recommendations that aren't Tolkien, Robert Jordan, GRRM, or Ursula K Le Guin? Please?"

Absolutely. Of course. One hundred per cent.

The Elenium trilogy by David & Leigh Eddings. High fantasy. Technically there's also a sequel trilogy, but it's not as good.

The First Law trilogy by Joe Abercrombie. High fantasy. Lots of high fantasy politics.

Urshurak by The Bros. Hildebrandt. High fantasy. Extremely Tolkien inspired but with more amazon women in metal bikinis.

The Books of Pellinor by Alison Croggon. High fantasy. There's four of them and while I wouldn't say they're my favourite books ever, I do think they're a solid, competently written high fantasy series that will stop you from contemplating the horrors of reality for at least three days.

The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski. High fantasy. A great rearrangement of European folklore. I struggled with the representations of women, personally, but they're well constructed stories.

"Recommend something that's fantasy but feels like a totally different genre."

Okay. I can do that. Here you go:

The Chronicles of the Crystal Singers of Ballybran by Anne McCaffrey. It's a trilogy that's set in space and therefore engages with a sci-fi kind of vibe, but if you scratch the surface, the trilogy is fantasy all the way down.

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward by HP Lovecraft. Horror, but also historical fantasy.

The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde. The first three books of the Thursday Next series are gold, actually, but start here. This is about a literary detective living in an alternative history setting. Fantasy, but ideal for people who are going to get the rapid fire literary references.

"Tozette, what if you just recommend a single fantasy book, writer, or series, with your whole heart?"

My WHOLE heart? Okay. Here:

Johannes Cabal the Necromancer, Johannes Cabal the Detective, and Johannes Cabal: the Fear Institute by Jonathan L Howard are each different subgenres of fantasy, and all three of them are absolute fucking bangers. They are the best books on this list according to me. I love them.

[spnbabe67]

I Know You're Shitty And You're Bad For Me But I Can't Stop Thinking About It

Kinktober Day 14: Shower Sex (B.B)

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Original Female Character

Warnings: Smut, Shower Sex, mentions of being homeless, incredibly brief mention of violence

Summary: When Samarra can't sleep, her go-to remedy is a hot shower. But she isn't as quiet as she thinks

Word Count: 2074

Authors Note: Title from the song If You Think I'm Pretty by Artemas. Why are there so few quality GIFs of him??? Also, I was half tempted to name this fic "It's Raining Men".

Samarra didn’t hate the apartment. It was cramped, sure, living with 5 other people, so the bathroom was the only place she could get some goddamn privacy. The lock was busted on the door, but it wasn’t like the others were keen on walking in on her; Hughie had, once, when they all moved in here from out of the Haitian Kings HQ. The poor boy had been traumatized, both by walking in on her naked and nearly getting a bullet in his brain. Butcher had looked equal parts disturbed and impressed when Samarra mentioned she kept a pistol on top of her clothes. She’d shrugged, saying that you could never be too careful; after all, they were being hunted by Supes.

The water pressure was decent and as long as she got to shower before M.M., there was usually enough hot water. Considering she was up before all of them and the last one in bed, the supply of hot water wasn’t usually an issue. Besides, as the one who paid most of the utilities, Samarra decided she could use as much of the hot water as she pleased.

Everyone else was asleep, or so Samarra figured. It was late enough in the night to be considered early morning when she gave up on trying to toss and turn in the little twin sized bed. With Hughie sneaking, or what he thought was sneaking, out to see Annie, her and Butcher had claimed the bedroom. M.M. really hadn’t protested to it, much to Samarra’s surprise. At this point she felt bad for Butcher, who’d fallen asleep next to her after one of their late night escapades. He wasn’t awake, but she knew her constant moving around wasn’t exactly facilitating the level of sleep that he needed. Samarra sighed, dragging her hand down her face as she glanced over at Butcher, snoring softly beside her. God, I wish I could sleep that well. She gingerly got out of bed, the floor cold against the bottoms of her feet.

Samarra cringed as one of the floorboards creaked under her weight. She glanced over her shoulder, relaxing a bit as Billy seemed to still be in the throws of sleep. She grabbed a change of clothes from her bag, only the muted rustling of fabric indicated her movements. The one thing she did miss from living on her own, if it was only out of homeless shelters and gym bathrooms, was her fluffy towels. It was the small luxuries that had kept her going before she met Frenchie, and by extension the rest of The Boys, like her towels. But those had been long since abandoned, probably still in a trash bag by the side of the road after fleeing the last place she lived, so the scratchy, plain black towels supplied by group funding it was. Samarra folded her clothes, catching the open toilet seat before she set them down. She rolled her eyes. Men. 

Her clothes pooled around her ankles in ripples of cotton and linen. Samarra shivered as the ambient air hit her naked body, skin riddled with goosebumps. She cranked the dial to almost the hottest setting, the old pipes rattling as water flowed through them to pour from the shower head. Samarra hissed as the scalding hot water hit her back and shoulders, but quickly the sting faded to a pleasant warmth bringing life back to her chilled and aching muscles. She tipped her head back, letting the spray soak her silver hair, pouring over her shoulders to trail down the front of her. Steam quickly enveloped the room as Samarra dragged her fingers through her hair, making sure the strands were soaked through.

She and Kimiko both shared toiletries. Butcher had gotten this, fruity and sickeningly sweet smelling shampoo and body wash set as a joke, but Samarra refused to let it go to waste. It was another small luxury she missed. She never in a hundred years would have picked the cherry blossom and passionfruit scented soap, but it was what they had and she wasn’t going to toss it simply because she didn’t like it. The citrusy scent wafted around her as she lathered the soap into her hair, scrubbing the grime and sweat away. She’d always found solace in bathing. The ritual of it solid and relatively unchanging. There was a time where a shower in and of itself was a luxury, especially one with some semblance of privacy. After everything she’d done in her lifetime, hell the last 6 months, Samarra needed it as a way of cleansing herself, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. She wasn’t religious, but a hot shower was as close to repentance for her actions as it got for her. As if washing away the dirt, sweat and oftentimes blood could make up in any way for the things she’d done.

One, two, one, three. Soft knocks sounded at the door, barely audible over the pounding of the water. It was a code her and Butcher had come up with on a mission. She had infiltrated an office building where their intel had indicated Vought was keeping some files on the Supe’s they’d been dosing and she was supposed to let him and Frenchie in after everyone else at the office had left. Butcher had claimed that ‘How else is she supposed to know that its them at the door and not some random twat lookin’ for a fix?’ Samarra had shrugged, not caring either way. Leave it to Butcher to overcomplicate some things and under complicate others.

Seconds passed and Samarra heard the faintest click of the door shutting before the curtain pulled away, Butcher sliding into the shower with her. His hands landed heavy on her hips, making to switch so he was under the spray but flinched away as the water hit his skin.

“Bloody hell, woman.” Butcher growled, reaching around her to turn the temperature down. “Gonna boil alive in ‘ere.”

“Pussy.” Samarra teased, shuffling around so the water ran down Butcher’s body, soaking into his hair and beard and running down his body. 

Samarra couldn’t help the way her eyes followed the path of the water down his body, feeling the temperature in the room grow incrementally hotter as the tension between them grew taut. Butcher wormed his hand to tangle in her hair, tipping her head back up to make her eyes catch his again. The heat in his eyes reflected her own, desire and lust blowing his pupils wide.

“What are you doin’ to me, Mara?” Billy mumbled before he used his grip on her hair to bring her lips to his.

Samarra let her eyes flutter shut into the kiss. His lips moved against hers like molasses, his grip on her hips purely possessive as he pulled her front flush against him. She opened her mouth to him, letting him take control of the kiss as her hands wandered across his body. She caressed her hands along the soft planes of him, across his broad chest and even broader shoulders, feeling how his softness gave way to hard muscle underneath; it reminded her just how strong and unyielding he could be. Eventually her hands found home in his hair, brushing through the transition from the coarse, curly hair of his beard into the softer, finer strands adorning his head. 

She gasped as the cold tile of the shower pressed into her back as Billy pinned her to it, having her retreating closer to the warmth beating off of his body and from the shower. Butcher took advantage of the momentary distraction, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. Samarra rolled her hips against him as he grew hard against her tummy, reaching down to run her hand over his length, stroking him to full hardness. Butcher growled against her mouth as she lazily pumped her hand, twisting her wrist as she did. Samarra nipped at his lower lip, grasping at his shoulders to steady herself as Butcher slid his hands down her sides, cupping her ass to lift her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, steadied by the slowly warming shower wall at her back and Billy practically pinning her to it with his hips. 

Samarra kissed him sloppily, all tongue and teeth and noses crashing together, greedily drinking him down. Samarra silently thanked whatever gods or supernatural beings were out there that Butcher wasn’t a selfish lover as he slipped his hand between them, sliding a thick finger through her folds to toy at her clit adding fuel to the growing fire he’d lit in her belly. Samarra’s breath hitched at the first nudge of him against her entrance. Their kiss only broke as her mouth dropped open as Billy thrusted shallowly, slowly working his cock into her. Her forehead rested against his as she glanced down, watching him slide in and out of her, working himself in and in until he was fully seated inside her. 

Butcher cursed in a long, drawn out breath as her inner walls fluttered around his cock. Samarra captured his lips again, granting him leave to move. He pulled out almost completely before resheathing himself in one smooth stroke that had her choking on a moan that was swallowed by his mouth. 

“I know it feels good, but we gotta be quiet lovey.” Butcher mumbled between kisses and Samarra groaned in protest but complied, knowing he was right. The last thing they needed was M.M. or Frenchie walking in thinking someone was being hurt. 

Samarra dug her nails into his back, digging them into his shoulders as his short thrusts rocked her back against the wall every time his hips crashed into hers. That calloused thumb of his still made quick, small circles on her clit, spurring her on. That gentle, arousing sensation added to the amalgam of factors that had her barreling for that high. Samarra held Butcher close to her, her peaked nipples rubbing against the patch of hair on his chest, the steady rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of her shoving her over that edge. She shuddered in Butchers arms, her orgasm shooting down her spine, making her legs go lazy around his hips. His mouth muffled the satisfied moan she couldn’t hold back as he rutted into her fast and hard, chasing his own high. Butcher gently set her on her feet, a hand on her hip steadying her as he pumped himself raggedly until he came, his cum leaking out of his cock and into the shower. Billy kissed her languidly, his hand rubbing up and down her side to re regulate their systems. 

Samarra smirked against his lips. “You gonna keep distracting me or can I finish my shower?” 

Butcher arched a brow at her. “And here I was thinking you enjoyed my company.” 

Samarra opened her mouth to volley his jest but Butcher simply held up a finger, gesturing her to turn around. Confusion had her furrowing her brows, but she complied, turning away from him. She flinched as the softness of her washcloth brushed against her shoulder. 

She glanced over her shoulder. “What’re you-”

“Shush and let me do this.” Butcher cut her off.

Samarra mentally shrugged, closing her eyes to savor the feeling of Butcher dragging the washcloth across her back and shoulders. Once he was satisfied with that, he moved onto her arms, then her torso, then her legs after that. He was surprisingly gentle with his ministrations, which by itself didn’t surprise her. What did was the fact that he was gentle with her. She had never expected him to be gentle with her, he hadn’t been thus far. It wasn’t unwelcome, just, unusual. 

He let her rinse herself off, retreating out of the shower while she did to grab both of their towels. Once they were both dry, Samarra having pulled on her t-shirt and panties, Butcher opting to wear nothing at all, they climbed back into bed. Samarra snuggled into the sheets, Butcher curling himself around her from behind; it was like a big, warm teddy bear had settled behind her, wrapping its arms around her torso.

Only the sound of their collective breathing and the low hum of the A/C filled the air for the next several minutes until Butcher spoke, his tone an annoyed grumble.

“I hate that bloody shampoo.”

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 16 - Coffee

Content includes: Epel x reader, established relationship (could be read as platonic though), Epel being stubborn as usual, maybe butchered accent

If Epel is pretentious about one thing, it’s apples. He has a lot of hometown pride for the fruit, and he makes sure to let everyone know it, including you. 

“I told ya, I ain’t tryin’ that new dessert with ya. I already know those apples ain’t good quality.”

You frown, upset that he’s being so stubborn. 

Recently, your favorite off-campus coffee shop came out with their seasonal fall menu. You’re particularly interested in this one apple muffin they’ve been advertising. All day you’ve been trying to get Epel to come with you, wanting to turn it into a cute date. However, he won’t budge. 

Not even your puppy eyes have an effect, which upsets you since that usually works. 

Still, you really want him to go with you, so you try one last time. You tell him that you think it would be fun, and you promise to let him pick the next date. 

Epel sighs, but you can see his face soften up as he looks at you. “Fine, I’ll bite. We can go. But, ya can’t get mad if I don’t have fun.”

You smile, happy he finally agreed with you, even if hesitantly. Of course, you never expected him to be entirely enthusiastic, but you’re still glad you were eventually able to convince him. 

The next day, Epel is at your doorstep, dressed ever-so-slightly nicer than usual. It’s cute, but you won’t admit it since you know he wouldn’t like it. Instead, you step out, yelling back at Grim to behave while you’re gone. 

You close the door behind you, and you head off to the mirror hall. 

Once you’re in town, you drag Epel to the coffee shop, excited to finally try the treat you’ve been craving. 

Epel is noticeably less excited, but you’re sure he’ll cheer up once he gets a treat of his own. 

The barista recognizes you when you walk in, which makes you a bit embarrassed, aware of just how often you come in. 

You push that aside and tell the barista your order, gesturing for Epel to make his as well. 

To your shock, Epel also orders one of the apple muffins. You stare as he orders his drink as well, but he pays you no mind. 

After paying for both you and himself, Epel grabs your hand and pulls you over to the pick-up counter to wait for your orders. 

You ask him about the muffin, curious as to why he would order the muffin after making such a fuss about it. 

“W-well, ya dragged me all the way here for that muffin; it’d be a waste not to try it.” He trails off, turning away from you to hide his obvious embarrassment. You laugh, charmed by how silly he can be. He was so adamant about not trying that muffin, but he still got it anyway. 

Soon, your drinks and muffins are handed to you, and you head off to a table towards the back. 

Epel starts with his drink while you unwrap your muffin, practically drooling over how good it smells. You take a bite, savoring the delicious flavor. If you were any less dignified, you would have inhaled the whole thing immediately. 

As you eat, Epel continues nursing his drink, and you can tell he’s stalling on his own muffin. Even after ordering it, his stubborn pride still won’t let him try it. 

You urge him to give it a try, telling him that you’ll gladly take the rest if he doesn’t like it. He can’t possibly refuse that, so he puts his drink down and picks up his muffin. 

He’s slow to unwrap it, and he takes a hesitant bite. He chews, taking his time to savor the bite as you did. However, you know his savoring is less about enjoyment and more about judgment.

As much as you’re sure it pains him, you can see his eyes light up at the flavor of the muffin. You try to hide your smug smile, so tempted to remind him that you were right. Naturally, he beats you to it to save at least some of his pride. 

“Yeah, yeah, ya were right, I know. It’s good I suppose. Still not as good as what I could make though.”

He mumbled that last part, but you heard it loud and clear. Your smile can no longer be suppressed, but it’s less smug and more fond. 

Epel puts the muffin down, sliding it over to you. Just because it was good doesn’t mean he wants to finish it. Instead, he hides his blushing face behind his cup of coffee. 

Meanwhile, you take the muffin he offered, happy to have a second one. 

You’re glad he at least tried it, even if he couldn’t swallow his pride enough to finish it. Plus, you get another muffin out of it, so you consider this a perfect coffee date.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

... But I also really want a sneak pick at Lake of Fire :D

Here's a snippet from the next chapter, which will hopefully be posted later today or tomorrow:

Someone knocks on the door and Charles whirls around, heart leaping into his throat before he remembers that Edwin wouldn’t knock. “Yeah? Come in?” The door opens and Jenny pokes her head in, scowling. “Did you give the Tongue & Tail’s phone number to one of your creepy friends?” “What creepy friends?” Charles blinks, bewildered. “Someone’s on the phone looking for the Dead Boy Detectives. She says she has a tip about a case.” “About the Deathless?” “I didn’t ask, because I’m in the middle of running a business.” “Right.” Charles realizes he’s bouncing on his heels like that time he drank a whole pot of coffee in under an hour. If he has new information by the time Edwin gets back, they can move past whatever weirdness happened earlier. Edwin isn’t one to dwell on things like his best mate staring at his mouth when there’s a case to solve. “Sorry about that, Jenny. Not sure how they got your number.” She sighs. “Just try to keep my shop out of your paranormal weirdness, okay?” “Think it might be a bit too late for that, mate,” he tells her cheerfully, which earns him an expected eye roll. He takes the stairs three at a time before he makes it into the kitchen of the butcher shop, where Jenny keeps a landline. While Jenny goes back out front to see to her customers, he puts the phone to his ear, leaning back against a patch of wall that doesn’t have any blood splatter on it. “Uh, hello? Charles Rowland here?” “Hello, Charles.” It’s a woman’s voice, though there’s a strangely echoing quality to it. Connection must be bad. “Hi,” he says. “What can I do for you?” There’s a pause that lasts long enough that he starts to wonder if they lost connection. Then, the woman says, “Say hello to Charles, Edwin.” “What?” Charles pushes himself off the wall. “Edwin?” There’s a crackling noise that might be wind. Then, a choked, bitten-off cry, like someone trying not to scream.

WIP Ask Game

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Do you think that the gaang atla movie might make casual fans realize bryke are not the best writers? Like Everywhere they get praised but honestly if the writing in the movie is at the levels of the comics I could maybe see ppl turn on them a bit ( it also sucks bc I doubt katara and zuko will even interact in the movie)

Hi anon! I think people will almost certainly be disappointed in the new Avatar Studios movie, because nothing has even come close to the quality of ATLA after the original show ended. However, from what I’ve observed in the fandom, there’s always someone other than Bryke to blame. For example, when people rag on Korra, they blame Nickelodeon. When they rag on the comics, they blame Gene Yang (and incidentally I’ve actually seen a K/ataang shipper say that the reason the comics are so bad is because Gene Yang is a Zutara shipper — as if a grown ass professional would compromise his contract / reputation for a ship war). And when they rag on the first live action movie, they rag on M. Night. I’m not saying that Bryke are completely at fault for the shortcomings for these projects — collaborative creative pursuits are wonderful, magical things and it’s hard to know where credit and blame go when the whole point is that collaboration is beyond the sum of its parts — but the bottom line is that when certain fans are hellbent on not blaming Bryke, there are always other scapegoats.

I’m friends with many casual fans, and they were the ones who got me into the show. Honestly, I don’t think they even gave a second thought to Bryke until they left the Netflix production, which is convenient because now people can credit Bryke for the ingenuity of ATLA and blame Netflix for driving them away. I’m not sure casual fans will turn on Bryke for making a mediocre movie…BUT: if Zuko undergoes a character regression similar to his comics arc, people will probably get mad. Zuko’s redemption arc is widely considered one of the best on TV. You cannot find a Reddit thread about “best redemption arcs of all time” without Zuko being one of the top answers. From Bryke’s interviews, it kind of feels like they don’t really understand his appeal, and if they butcher his character in the absence of writers who got him more…well, I think people will be real mad about that. I mean, people got so mad about NATLA Katara, and she’s nowhere near as beloved as Zuko b/c misogyny and racism and many people found her annoying but that’s a whole other thing

And on a related note, I agree that Katara and Zuko will probably barely interact in the new movie, and it will seem kind of stilted and awkward. I remember an interview with Aaron Ehasz where he said that he’s not really a shipper and he doesn’t write stories with shipping in mind: what matters more is letting the narrative drive itself. That POV, undoubtedly shared by others in the writers’ room (including MVP Elizabeth Welch), is what was responsible for the development of the Katara - Zuko friendship in the original show in the first place. It’s very, very stifling to prioritize a ship war over the actual story. Antis claim Zutara shippers create convoluted fanfic plots where other characters and relationships are downplayed in favour of their ship, but that’s exactly what happens in the canon comics wrt K/ataang. I don’t know if it’ll seem so transparent to the casual viewer, but even if the motivations aren’t obvious, the decline in quality sure will be. For the sake of my love for all Gaang-related shenanigans I hope Bryke won’t go down that road for the new movie, but…well, they’ve done pettier things.

Thanks for your question anon, and please share any of your further thoughts!

[sapphorror]

I am endlessly plagued by totally normal and appropriate feelings re: Zim and Dib saying each other's name's like that (if you get me, you get me), but I'm too lazy to make a compilation so I did the next best thing and wrote this piece of highly questionable literature about it instead

It's when Zim drops the suffix that Dib knows for sure things are about to get serious.

Most times, Zim spits out Dib’s name like it’s an insult, the tone indistinguishable from the one he uses when cycling through his roster of a schmillion and one derogatory titles, all of which smear together but might as well be a single moniker for the uniform way in which they’re spoken. Really, it’s not much different from the way most people tend to address Dib, as if the burden of tolerating his presence is an unpleasant but inevitable chore—just a bit more vehement and with the addition of arbitrary modifiers Dib’s long since learned to tune out. Sometimes it’s as if Dib has ceased to be a name at all and is instead a definition, the scientific classification for a new species of grotesque freak.

But every now and then—just often enough to keep Dib perpetually suspended in a state somewhere between eager and on-edge—the energy shifts, his last and most dire signal that a very dangerous game has already begun. There’s just as much contempt and an even nastier mocking edge, but there’s no mistaking it for another petty jab. It’s a knife shoved right in his middle, cold metal chill and the sharp numbing spark of a body going into shock, precise enough to leave his psyche spitting up rivers of rage or fear or both, but even as he’s shuddering around the lethal wound, there’s something in him that can see the care with which the blade has been sharpened.

More often than not, Dib only gets to be stabbed through the fuzz of a transmission as Zim describes his doom to him from wherever he’s judged a safe distance, the edges dulled by that slight alteration in quality that not even the best in Irken tech can entirely eliminate. That’s all well and good and gruesome enough, but it’s the occasions on which Zim’s enacted his plans in person that really stand out in Dib’s memory. Felt from beneath the full weight of every decibel, Zim’s voice almost sounds less sing-song than serenading, some single-minded ritual of seduction. A taunt, yes, but also a reassurance—that he really is every inch the monster Dib needs him to be, and that just for this moment, Dib is the sole locus of his attention. A creature of the cosmos, witness to incomprehensible wonders, stirred by Dib more than anything else, and under such exceptional circumstances, could anyone really claim he’s crazy just for being a little bit obsessed?

Zim's name sounds good in Dib's mouth.

Granted, Zim’s name sounds good in anyone’s mouth; there are some things simply too perfect to be butchered. With Dib, though, there’s a difference Zim can’t put his finger on. Of course, Irken names never roll off quite right from the humans’ flat, flappy tongues—too many hard consonants and clipped syllables for them to manage. Tak’s always sounds like the slam of a door, and poor Skoodge got stuck being addressed as something seen smeared on the sidewalk, stretched and squished at the same time. Even Zim’s name, unbutcherable as it might be, sounds slippery in their mouths, or else too quick, too sharp. Not with Dib, though—coming from him it’s slow and sibilant, a sort of sliding hiss, and that isn’t right either but for some reason Zim likes the sound of it, maybe even more than he does the real thing.

Things aren’t always so theatrical, of course. Far too often, Dib just shrugs the word off with all the dismissiveness due an old raincoat or coats it in enough casual contempt to make the internal cooling systems in Zim’s PAK falter by a couple dangerous degrees. No, if Zim wants the reverence he’s owed, he has to earn it, and that’s perfectly fine—it’s not as if the Dib has ever proven particularly difficult to entice. A mysterious occurrence, the suggestion of a scheme, any lure to lead him in by his overactive sense of curiosity and he’d be there, crying out for Zim’s attention as if his arrival hadn’t been half the goal in the first place. Sometimes he shows up already stumbling-sick with anger, at others sounding so ecstatic it might even be mistaken for sign of fondness, but in every case there is the one critical constant; that his presence itself is a papered-over proclamation of the most all-encompassing, unashamed want.

Not that Zim has ever been unwanted—the very notion, absurd!—but within the most walled-off corners of his mind, he’s willing to allow that maybe, just possibly, there’s a chance he’s never been wanted quite like this. Like a prayer or a pipe dream, the promise of settled scores and spiteful satisfaction, as if Zim’s somehow both the solution and the cause to all of Dib’s problems at once. The grating celebration always comes so premature, as if just seeing Zim, speaking to him, is by itself a form of vindication, and Zim’s never been the least bit pleased to let Dib have it. He knows it’s not much like an Invader to be running from something he could so easily fight, not much like an Irken, but the inevitable dogged pursuit that follows is proof of Dib’s dedication desperation, and what possible shame could there be in indulging that? After all, no consequence of getting caught is scarier than losing all cause for a chase.

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

DF Posting: KingChannels - Year 3

Here we are again. Much belated on account of me having an awful head cold for most of the past two weeks.

The beginning of the defensive layer, which, as time has gone on, has only gotten less solid. Regardless I think having room to retreat behind corners when archers come a knocking will be helpful.

We left last year with the trade depot Almost complete, and the defensive layer, starting up. Happy to say we made a lot of progress on both, but a lot happened so we'll start from the top.

Early on the elven caravan arrived; I personally have no abnormal distaste for the elves (even if selecting everything in a bin except the bin is obnoxious), but we didn't have any trade goods because I'd not decided to, you know, make any, on account of sheets being wanted next year. So we didn't really get anything, not that they brought much. Not even very many animals. Very dissapointing honestly. Didn't even get a screenshot.

Our starter library. We probably won't need it anymore after we start getting the tower constructed but that could be a while. I set a scholar to work here after I made it as well, and installed a table later on.

In the meantime we made a starter library for our scholarly pursuits to begin in earnest, rather then waiting for the tower to start construction. It's small, but it'll work. We assigned Ingish Arzesidan as scholar, our old woodcutter. She honestly loves it and is constantly getting good thoughts from debating and pondering, though these are somewhat offset by her bad thoughts from not practicing a craft. Thems the breaks. Around this time I also started making clothes from our pig tail fiber, to ensure our in fort child would have clothing. Also so anyone whose clothes rot off can get a new set.

Our first scholar.

After all that hubbub we almost immediately got a migrant wave; 9 dwarves, 2 melee dwarves for the military, and a High Master Surgeon, very nice. This reminded me we needed to make a hospital. My idea is to build it on the ground floor, likely near the cistern, hopefully out of the way of any trouble in the event anyone needs to be brought to it during combat. It'll also make getting the water from the cistern to the nearly required hospital well less of a pain in the butt.

The first two are our melee dwarves and the last is the surgeon.

Around the time of the migrant wave we got another Child Strange Mood; it finished around the time we finished sorting otu the migrant wave as Ablel Regezar only grabbed two apple wood logs. He made, adorably, a toy axe, Desiszisang. During the course of this year I caught several dwarf children playing with it so at least it's getting use!

The fort's most popular toy. And... only toy, now that I'm thinking about it.

Of note; all this happened in Early Spring. This was a very rapid fire series of events, but things slow down a bit henceforth. Not before finding a mysterious vomit trail from the trade depot to the first floor of the fortress entrance. Probably a dwarf that'd been underground long enough to get cave adapted. I didn't see any sign of combat, anyway, so it's not an injury at least. Regardless the fort now has its first streak of green mess. There will be many more.

Every fort, by the end of the run, is usually just covered in blood and puke. This is small potatoes.

Taking up the next large swathe of time was mostly me digging to find ores, rather then for fortress construction, with the completion of a stockpile I was digging near the metal processing area to store ore and coal. During this time I'd noticed unhappy dwarves were looking pretty intimidating, I think it hit a high of 16 which is more then a third of our fort. You've gotta nip this in the bud so in a mostly ineffectual attempt to do that I made some meals. Mostly quarry bush leaves, but higher food quality = happier dwarf. Unfortunately we don't really have a lot of edible wildlife, I've only seen ravens and they're too small to butcher and a pain to catch besides. Maybe one day we'll be eating raven eggs, but it seems like a bit too much trouble for now.

all of my mining floors start like this. I want people to be able to move through them well in the event I use them for something more important then burial site.

We hit Lignite and Iron shortly below where I started digging exploratorily. Very good sign; if we can find flux we've got steel, which is fantastic. That'll handily take care of most of our fortress defense needs, at least as far as we can hope for. We also found kaolinite which will make us some high quality ceramic stuff when I set it up. I also intend to use the exploratory digging tunnels for most of our burial slabs; it just feels appropriate to me.

During all this, the work on the defensive layer was moving along. The windows on the left are Gem windows, and we'll be layering some fortifications over hte front of them to ensure noone just breaks in through those windows. Eventually patrols or watch animals will keep an eye out through there to let us know when goblins or kobolds are skulking around. Hopefully, anyway.

It was around this time I realized my military squads had Never Stopped Training. I looked into a bit of stuff regarding the new UI and it turns out they've been on manual training, never stop mode, for like a year now. That's probably why everyone's so pissed off. I fix that and indeed the bad moods at the fort start dropping, thankfully. THe summer migrant wave also hit, 8 dwarves. A high master metalcrafter, a high master furnace operator, and a middling papermaker. Normally the papermaker would be on hauling duty, but given we're making a library... hmm. Two randos from the wave got drafted into our military squad making an even 10. Training can Really start now. Especially now that they're doing advanced training and teaching and sparring and such. They don't do that on manual evidently.

Once more, oru new Local Celebrities. I also assigned another dwarf to scholarship around this time I believe; Kadol Usenvabok. We'll probably worry more about the scholars when the tower goes up because if I keep posting dwarf thoughts we're gonna hit the image cap.

Seconds after this migrant wave the high master metalcrafter enters a secretive mood. Looks like we're getting a legendary metalcrafter. Honestly sort've stinks; he was allmost there anyway. Regardless, he goes to work. After some livestock butchery, he makes an Artifact Silver Chain out of Horse Leather, Chert Blocks, a Silver Bar, and cut bloodstones. Pretty nice sounding, and we can definitely find a use for it somewhere. Probably put it in a well, but maybe we can find some sort've novel use for it in the tower. It Is silver after all.

Pretty Good.

As we moved into autumn, I realized we were running out of food for some reason. Had the realization we weren't growing any plump helmets in autumn for some reason, so I fixed that. Also set about to making another still, as the population was getting quite hefty and a single still probably wouldn't be cutting it for much longer. As time went on it stabilized, and later in the year restocked itself so we're good again. Crisis Averted.

Shortly before the caravan arrived there were officially enough farmers in the fort to qualify for a farmer's guild. I immediately set about making one of the rooms I Dug out for specifically this purpose into a farmer's guild, and everyone was happy about it. Farmer dwarves will talk about farming in there, along with just generally socializing. It'll slowly increase their skills in various farming aptitudes. It's great.

The Dwarven caravan arrives annnnnd I forgot to make trade goods. God damn. I quickly hammer out some rock rings and buy some iron bars, using them to make a weapon for the militia. Need stuff sooner then later, and we're not exactly short on iron. The liason requested Amulets, which is great for us and I Immediately set on that to avoid this problem next year. I make our standard selection of military grade metals and silver.

Around this time enough work on the cistern got done for me to be comfortable draining the pond, finally. I wanted to get constructed stuff in there sooner rather then later because... I like constructed stuff. No dirty hole water here.

the top floor hadn't been walled in yet but I did take care of that over the rest of the year.

I love a bit of fluid mechanics in DF so this excited me. I've actually not done a lot of it, but I love the concept. We'll probably need another pool or two before it'll have enough loaded in to make its way to the hospital well, but it rains all the time here, so it shouldn't be too long. Since we've got enough standing water in the cistern too (about a full z level), we can just dump in whatever we can get and it'll be stored too, so that's nice.

Anyway the autumn migrant wave hits annnnnnd we got two dwarves. I forgot I had the migrant cap lowered to a pitiful 50 due to a previous fort I ran, so that's my bad, Yet Again. I raise it to 100. The two dwarves were not notable in any way. I also assign a scribe to our library to copy the books we do have.

As we trundle on towards winter, a child is posessed, which has become a commonplace enough occurrence that I honestly wasn't particularly interested. More livestock died to feed the leather requirement, and he got wood, bones and leather.

Before he finished his artifact, however, a werehare broke into the depot. He immediately bites down on Logem Urvaddatan, our freshly recruited high master surgeon, and shakes him to bits.

So much for that hospital. KingChannelses first fatality. Brutal.

There were two militadwarves nearby at the time so they immediately set to attacking the werehare (with picks?? why do you people have picks equipped you're not miners), and he goes down pretty unceremoniously, being an unarmored, roughly human size, enemy.

During the scuffle however, a militadwarf was bitten. This means they are now a werehare, and they Will be hostile to their fellow dwarves when they turn.

The bitten militiadwarf on the left, Iden Eshtanmubun and more competent combat on the right.

Me, not willing to create isolation chambers for bitten dwarves, and not wanting to have to deal with this guy popping off every quarter of a year, elect to banish him. Iden Eshtanmubun has no family in the fort, so nobody is going with him. He's upset, but what's he gonna do, come back as a werehare to take revenge? Hopefully not. He was actually also a aprt of the wave the surgeon came in on, so I guess the wave was just cursed. We'll have to keep an eye on Ablel Dumatdeleth, I Suppose.

After all of the drama and our first death, the child finishes his artifact, a horse bone pick. Maybe someone will actually use it. I kind've don't care right now kid I'm sorry.

I am normally quite happy about equippable artifacts, even if they're shit, but a pick is pretty hard to equip on purpose and they all behave the same regardless of material.

After processing all this I realized our defensive layer is pretty much done, our wall is done, our trade depot is done, it's time to build that overhang. I don't think the werehare climbed in over the wall but better safe then sorry. Unfortunaetly, while trying to do this, I realize my wall is too close to the edge of the map to build an overhang. So we have to rebuild half of it. Ugh.

In the shadow of death we find.... more menial labor. As usual, I guess.

I immediately stat making another layer of the wall on the relevant sides inside the fort. We'll worry about tearing down the outside layer later. I'd rather have a wall people can climb over then no wall at all. This in and of itself takes about til the end of the season, so we'll carry on with other stuff, though the death was the last major event of the year.

Other then some boring logistical stuff (we ran out of chert I can't color coordinate until I mine more rarrrr), the rest of the year was pretty quiet. We found some Green Jade, a 20 value gem, which is Very nice, we found more iron on the living floor, while expanding it for future waves, which I mined out, and our scribe made a copy of our one book, The Way of the Path of the Moon. Or whatever. It was something like that.

As the year drew to a close, the baby born in fort grew to a child and learned to walk on his own. He is no longer at risk of being used as a shield by his mother, and they ran out into the snow and immediately got pissed off about being snowed on. Thanks kid. She can now harvest and haul stuff, so she'll be a minor help for the next.... 15 years. Frankly if we see her grow to be an adult that alone is a fantastic run.

Baby Lolor Rimtarilir, like all dwarves, immediately knows where the clothes are upon gaining locomotion. She's also pissed off because of the snow. Get in line Lolor.

Along with the baby becoming independent, our initial Scholar, Ingish, became an astronomor. He's officially studied the book about the moon's path enough to gain a title. Our mental pursuits are looking up.

A monumentous occasion given the goal of our fort. We need more eggheads. They're chopping a tree right now but rest assured they are very intelligent.

And that's that. A death, a lot of construction and a working cistern; that will continue, but we are pulling up on the end of Surface construction not involving the tower, at least, maybe another couple of years? Hopefully we'll have sterling silver production in hand by then.

Next years goals are finally get that cistern loaded up with water and giving our dwarves an indoor well, Finish The Damn Wall, and hopefully find flux and start steel production. Also hopefully we find silver. I guess if we can't find any silver on site a ceramic tower might be good. And very silly. Same color anyway. We'll see.

Until Next Year. Our fortunes rise and fall together.

[slimeblorbo]

So uh I might've gotten a bit ambitious and decided to start a long term project that is a Dead Plate x Butcher Vanity PMV and after 2 days I have the storyboard done! Yayyy!!! Now to draw Vincent another 50+ times but in proper quality. Below is the storyboard CW: blood, cannibalism, violence, death, Dead Plate Spoilers!!!!

Ignore the numbers and notes those are to help me later during the editing process.

Also yeah I know the quality is kinda bad these images went through hell just to get into my video editor. They were all isolated from a series of 12 images where I originally had them all as a sort of collage and thus when I enlarged the images the quality went down

Here are said images because I think it's fun to see and keep track of my progress:

The colors on the left are for later convenience. If all of this seems incomprehensible then it probably is. I don't even name my layers I might have a problem. Welcome to my disorganized process but where I lack in organization that is understandable to anyone but me, I make up for in something I'm sure.

Anyway time to start figuring out my next step: making the art. I've got backgrounds to figure out and better compositions to make since a lot of the frames don't make good use of the space, and I would like to fix that.

I hope you enjoyed this if you came across it! I look forward to continuing the project! I haven't made something close to this in a very long time and I'm very excited to share it as I go!

[antianakin]

Maybe I'm being a bit nit-picky but I guess it as kinda odd Ahsoka is constantly getting more and more powerful whenever the plot demands it. The most recent one being able to see the past from the starman. I forgot the exact name of the ability but it was introduced as not only something very rare but also being a burden on the users. I wouldn't really mind Ahsoka being super powerful, but I wish we got more build up because otherwise it's just very Mary Sue-ish. And really I hope they didn't neglect Ezra's character and abilities in favor of making Ahsoka the Most Powerful™.

I think you're talking about psychometry and how it feels like Ahsoka's starting to be able to use that power. Previous characters who have had it are most notably Quinlan Vos and Cal Kestis, and yeah, generally it's considered a power that only a very few are sort-of born with and it's a skill that can be very painful if not honed. Ahsoka has never EVER been one of those characters who has had psychometry, either in TCW or in Rebels.

It's hard to tell whether the show is going for her using psychometry specifically or if they're just... really stretching what regular Force users can do. Because we know that they CAN pick up impressions from things, strong emotions and the like. Anakin and Ahsoka can feel the pain and screams of the people who died during the Temple bombing, for example. But what she does on the show, where she's able to pick up a specific image/memory by touching something, might've been super useful in that particular moment and she doesn't use it at all.

As far as I know, psychometry isn't a skill one can just "learn" if they get strong enough, you're either born with it or you aren't. But I would've said the same has always been true for Force sensitivity in general - you're either born with it or you aren't - and this show has already chosen to throw THAT out the window with Sabine (and possibly Hera, too) so the idea that they might be willing to decide psychometry is a thing someone can just learn isn't exactly outside the realm of possibility here. They haven't CALLED it psychometry on the show yet, but that doesn't mean that it isn't fairly obviously doing the exact same thing that we all know to be psychometry if you're familiar with the skill via Quinlan's stories or the recent video games with Cal.

Ahsoka HAS been dictated as very powerful from very early on, in fairness. There's an episode where Anakin notes in front of the Council that she's "advanced for her age" and they make a big deal out of how she's pretty young to be assigned as a padawan. So she IS supposed to be more powerful than the norm, usually, but psychometry is such a specific skill to have and at no point in any of her other appearances has she ever shown the ability to use it in the way she's been doing on this show.

I don't think that's nit-picky at all, personally, but I'm told that I'm a fairly nit-picky person, so what do I know. It does frustrate me, too, that this show is playing fast and loose with Star Wars worldbuilding just to suit Ahsoka's storyline. Sabine being a Jedi, the butchering of the Rebels characters, Ahsoka's overpowered qualities, etc. All of it is done so that they can tell a very specific story for Ahsoka without any care to how it breaks previously established lore and plot points.

It's one of the things I like the LEAST about this show and that's saying something because there's a LOT that I dislike very much about this show.

[haldenlith]

Binary Stars - Ch 1

I come bearing an interesting little thing. Remember my occasional rambling about my mind concocting a seperate universe with Uldwyn (base Uldren) and Hal? And it's a cyberpunk styled universe with magic? But it's not the Destiny universe? But it uses a lot of story elements and themes from it? And that I was hesitant to call it an "Alternate Universe" because of that? Well I started writing on that. Decided to start things actually from Uldwyn's perspective, and... I don't think I'm going to explain much past that. Just keep in mind this is different and not Destiny. Also, the "Arachas" are this universe's Eliksni. They're renamed because of being physically different. I don't know if I'll put this on AO3 or not given how and what it is. Also title is a working title. I'm at a loss for a better one. (Essentially put a Turian from Mass Effect, a Predator from the Predator series, an Eliksni, a spider, and a Necromorph from Dead Space into a blender -- congratulations, you have an Arachas.) Anyway, there is a content warning for suicidal ideation and general mature themes.

They trudged through overly sanitized, brutalist corridors of biocrete and steel. Tight grips on tired arms, dragging him along, boots echoing and drowning out the softer patter of his bare feet on the cold, cold floor. Lunar Penal Facility K-1 was nothing like the prison back home. His people’s prison. Petra might have thrown him in there and thrown away the key, but at least he was left with some dignity there.

Earth Coalition’s government had other thoughts on what inmates of their maximum security prison got. Dignity was not high on that list. It was low, scattering the floor in the processing room, with his hair they’d so unceremoniously shaved off. Clothing stripped away, discarded, as guards looked on upon his naked body, packing rifles high powered enough that he’d be little more than meaty splatter on the walls if they felt so inclined. They probably did, they just valued their jobs more. Undergarments and a jumpsuit was issued in place of the dirty but finer, high quality garments he was dragged in wearing.

He started to dig his feet into the polished floor, started to fight. The faint hum of servos whirred as the cybernetics on one of the guards kicked into a higher gear, wrenching him along, forward. His feet caught, and he felt their hands loosen.

They let him stumble and fall face first into the hard floor. A metallic taste graced his mouth. He’d bit his lip hard enough to bleed. A stinging pain that was nothing in the face of what he already felt.

“Get up.” They grabbed him, dragged him to his feet, hauling him in front of another guard – clearly an administrator, tired and uninterested in any inmate’s woes. His orange eyes inspected them, focusing. A Full-Body. Those weirdos that went and got themselves turned into robots. Green optics stared back, a modulated voice scoffing.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in, bloody and beaten. What do people refer to you as now? ‘The Butcher Prince?’ If I had my way about it, we’d chuck you outside and let you suffocate to death outside the O2 zone, but that’s too good for you.” The clicking and clacking of keys on the keyboard followed. A metal collar was fitted onto him, connecting into the port on the back of his neck. His own cybernetic eyes glitched and struggled to refocus. Everything did in him. The thrum of magic in his magitek augments died. It wasn’t a collar.

It was a muzzle.

He glared through the thick crysglass window at the administrator click-clacking away on the keyboard. “From this day forth, you are no longer Uldwyn Sov, you are simply Inmate #7050. I don’t know what kind of tea and crumpet shit you got back in that Plutonian prison you busted out of, but you’re not getting any of that shit here. We do not give a fuck who you were before, you are Inmate #7050 now, and you are just as much a piece of shit as every other inmate in here. Welcome to Lunaris K-1.” The FB’s green oculars narrowed, and the modular voice added in what sounded like a sneer, if they had the ability to make any kind of a facial expression, “Enjoy your stay.”

Clockwork. Everything was clockwork. Wake up was at 0500. Breakfast was at 0600. Showers, every other day, at 0730. Duties started at 0900, ended at 1700. If you behave like a good dog, you get a snack somewhere during that. Dinner was at 1800…

Part of him appreciated the rigidity of the schedule. There was no deviation. Deviation equaled punishment. Simple. Effective. It filled the void for all of a week.

Breakfast at 0600.

“Hey! Hey you, you smarmy bastard. I had family on Pluto. Family your fucking alien cult murdered.” Uldwyn kept his eyes on his food, tuning the man out. It was bland. “Hey, you fucking prick, I’m talking to you!” It was food, so he couldn’t complain, but he’d certainly had better.

A crude shiv was produced and aimed at Uldwyn. The man learned quickly how hard the tables were as Uldwyn dodged and responded in kind, grabbing and slamming the man’s skull into the table enough times to ensure he was unconscious. He went back to his food. The cafeteria was a little chilly, or maybe he was just still adjusting to the breeze he could feel on his head. The fuzz was growing out, but in its current form, the sparse, stubborn bits of white stood out a bit more against the dark black of his hair.

More people saddled up to the table.

Uldwyn heaved a sigh. “I’m really not in the mood.”

All of a week was all that lasted before his first real prison fight. He grunted as he was slammed back into his cell. The cybernetic shackles let out a shrill beep before disengaging, allowing him to get his arms apart. He sat on the bed and stared at the floor.

He pondered why he dodged the shiv.

Dying was easier.

“Dying is easy. You don’t get to have easy.” That bastard’s voice echoed in his head. He looked up and saw other inmates through the heavy steel latticework geometry of the front of his cell. Challenging glares and hungry eyes. He was a bird of prey with clipped wings in a den of hungry wolves, gnashing their teeth.

Dying. Was easier.

He had nothing to hope for. No spark burned inside. Not any more. It was all burned to the ground.

The next fight was during Duties. Back in the cell.

His people hated him.

Another fight at Breakfast.

His sister was gone.

The showers. That one was particularly rough thanks to the slick floor. He couldn’t help but feel like the guards had been intentionally slower to respond that time.

Even the people on Earth hated him.

“He’s done. He has nothing left.” He could hear that bastard’s voice in his head better than his own, at times.

Two fights in one day. Two different groups. The first was during Duties, which had been cleaning this time. They learned how well trained Uldwyn was, and how anything could be a weapon with him. The second was during Dinner time. That one was the worst. He was hungry. He didn’t get to eat anything.

Even the Arachas gave him a wide berth. He had a target on his front and back. He was arguably the most dangerous inmate in the prison, going by what he was in there for. Anyone else that had achieved his body count had been killed.

Dying was easier.

They got the easy way out.

He was shoved into a new cell. Four walls. Biocrete painted white. Sterile. Cameras, tiny, violating, sitting the corners. The thick door re-engaged behind him.

The Butcher Prince finally had his own kingdom, solitary and isolated. How kind.

A new schedule. Wake up at 0500. Breakfast at 0530, arriving through a slot, heralded by a mockingly cheerful AI.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Showers now only occurred once a week – he assumed it was a week, it was hard to tell anymore – at 0700.

Then… nothing. Nothing. Nothing but his thoughts. Nothing but the silence. Nothing but the faint hum of a vent blowing in recycled oxygen.

Dinner at 1730.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Lights out at 1900.

He curled up on the cot. His hair was just long enough to run his fingers through now.

His face itched. He’d not had a beard in… a long time. Even if it was only scruff.

Wake up at 0500.

Breakfast at 0530.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Silence.

Dinner at 1730.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Lights out at 1900.

Wake up at 0500.

Silence.

Wake up at 0500.

Dying was easier.

Silence and the same four white walls.

DYING WAS EASIER.

Wake up at 0500.

DYING WAS EASIER.

Why didn’t he let her shoot him? Why did he not shoot him?

Wake up at 0500.

DYING WAS EASIER.

He hated him.

Wake up at 0500.

Silence and the same four white walls and the memory of the man that put him here. “Now deal with the consequences of your fucking actions.”

DYING WAS EASIER.

He wanted to die. He didn’t want to live with this.

Wake up at 0500.

IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.

This was hell.

YOU DESERVE THIS.

They should have killed him. The gun was there. It was loaded. It was pressed to him even after Petra was knocked unconscious and it was right there and he was staring right into those cheap dollar store synth-optics that the idiot had dared to compare to his own and he remembered sneering at the man and saying, “What are you waiting for?” And the man still didn’t do it.

Why didn’t he do it? That’s what he tore across the kingdom to do, right? It was to be a reckoning? Wasn’t it? IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE. THE GUN WAS RIGHT THERE. JUST SHOOT.

I DESERVE IT. I DESERVE TO -

“Hey.” Uldwyn jumped at the voice. His orange eyes darted around the cell, the sleek cybernetic irises shifting and focusing rapidly as he inspected his space. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He’s losing it. Of course he’s losing it. He already lost it. “You’re not crazy.” More voices in his head. More lies. Something new to come and whisper lies in his ear. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You were vulnerable. They preyed on that.” You’re just like them. “No, I’m not. Here, let me show you.”

A soft glow materialized in the room. A ball of light, pure, warm, with other wisps dancing around it. Barely larger than a baseball. It was like a rainbow. So… inviting. It undulated as it spoke, soft and kind. “See?” Uldwyn stared through his bangs at the ball of light only two feet away.

So inviting and suspicious.

“… Uldwyn, you have officially lost whatever was left of your mind. Well done.” The ball made what could only be best described as an “exasperated circle” in the air while sighing.

“You’re not crazy! I’m real! I’m right here. Everyone here has loud thoughts, but yours are… especially loud. It’s like they’re screaming. Over and over. And you’re very bright. Your aura, that is. I’m sure you’re pretty smart, too, but I just wanted to clarify that.” Uldwyn arched up a brow.

“Bright. Right. And how do I know you aren’t some fresh new horror to torment me?” The ball of light dimmed, as if sulking.

“Oh. Well… I suppose you don’t know. All you can do is trust me.” Trust. What a peculiar word. He scarcely knew it anymore. A sigh escaped him. It wasn’t like he could do anything about this strange Entity choosing to occupy the cell with him. He pressed his back against the cold wall, stroking the short beard he now had. A short, patchy coat of black and white. At least his face didn’t itch anymore.

It was nice to hear a voice other than that of the AI.

“I know it’s a bit invasive to have done so, but in poking through your memories, I’ve seen other versions of you. I’d say you looked quite dashing clean shaven. Maybe that would make you feel better? Cleaning up? It’d at least be something to do.”

“What a wonderful idea. Let me just walk out and ask for a sharp object while languishing in prison. I’m sure they’ll just hand that and some shaving cream right over.” He didn’t even know what he looked like, truth be told. There were no mirrors in the cell. The only “luxury” he was granted was the luxury of knowing the time, communicated via an e-ink clock above the console by the door. Well, the console was a luxury, too. He wasn’t completely cut off. He could… make requests.

Hm.

“Oh well, you know, I was just… trying to figure out a way to cheer you up. Or… something.” The ball of light drooped, sulking. Uldwyn stood and lazily sauntered over to the console. It was sleek. A flat panel of glass. He pressed his hand to the sensor. After a moment, it beeped. The AI voice greeted him once more.

“Inmate #7050, what is your request?” He arched up an eyebrow.

“Um… I know this is a long shot, but is it… possible to get something to shave with?” It was ludicrous, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. The worst that could happen is being told no. There were a few moments of silence as a loading circle twirled on the glass.

“Inmate #7050, your request has been denied on the grounds that you would be armed with a sharp object with which to do harm to yourself.” That was exactly what he expected. “However –” He perked. “You may request to pay a visit to the barber facility that is provided as a form of enrichment to inmates. You have accrued one enrichment credit, which is sufficient for one visit.” He blinked a few times and glanced back at the ball of light floating in his room.

“I… alright. Yes, I… I’d like that. I wish to request a visit to the barber facility.” The loading circle appeared once more.

“Inmate #7050, your request has been approved. You now have zero enrichment credits. You may accrue more via good behavior. Your appointment is at 0630 tomorrow. Your allotted shower will follow.” Interesting. Uldwyn turned to look at the light floating by his cot. It shifted colors for a moment. He assumed that it was pleased with itself.

“… I’m not giving you any praise for this idea until after this ordeal, tomorrow.” The ball drooped in the air.

“Oh, alright,” it replied dejectedly. He returned to the cot, plunking down onto it. Dinner would come soon. Hopefully. “Still, at least you’re getting to have a little change of scenery, right? So that’s good.” Lamenting his inability to actually scan this odd little entity, he stared at it.

“So, what are you?” The ball of light expanded briefly, seeming to perk up.

“Oh, well, um… My kind doesn’t really have a name. We just kind of exist. I’ve heard some people call us ‘wisps’. Though, looking at the technical terminology of what is often defined as ‘wisp’, I don’t really feel that’s entirely accurate.” Uldwyn shook his head, which prompted his bangs to fall into his eyes.

Idly pushing his hair back out of the way, he inquired, “Okay, not a wisp. If I’m going to be stuck in a cell with you, I’d like to have a name for you or something.”

“A name! Right. A name. Um…” The ball floated back and forth before conceding, “I… don’t have one of those, either.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Why don’t you give me a name? It can be a token of our new friendship!” Uldwyn affixed the light with a deadpan stare.

“Friendship.”

“Yes! You seem like you could use a friend!” An unintentionally deep jab by the odd little fellow. A soft groan sounded from Uldwyn as he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting his eyes slide closed.

“With all due respect, considering my past encounters with strange magical entities and creatures – which you appear to be aware of, thanks to rifling around in my head – I’m not particularly inclined to refer to you as a ‘friend’,” he paused, cracking an eye open. “A name, though… I think I can work with giving you a name, at least.” He let his hand fall to his lap and he stared at the ball of light. Smaller dots of light would sometimes flare and split off, orbiting it, before rejoining the mass. Like solar flares or…

Sparks.

“Sparky.” A new response was exhibited from the ball, as it seemed to frazzle and ripple in an irritated fashion.

“What?! No. I don’t like that name.”

“And I don’t like being confined to a cell for the rest of my life, yet here we are. You’re Sparky.” Sparky made a sound like a groan, sinking in the air.

“It’s awful, though! It makes me sound like I’m a dog or something,” he whined.

“Fine. Don’t have a name, then. I’ll just call you ‘Thing’.” Another new response: Sparky seemed to flatten out somewhat, resembling more of a flattened ellipse of light than a ball. He then returned to his spherical shape.

“Fiiiiiiine. I guess I’m Sparky, now.” Sparky’s presence made time tick by a bit more quickly, and before he realized it, Uldwyn heard the sounds of his food being delivered, along with the usual AI announcement about stealing utensils. The food was bland, as usual, though it was nutritious enough. As dehumanizing as the “Lunaris K-1” prison facility was, they did seem to at least try to keep the inmates fed and taken care of on a base “keep you alive” level. He’d hardly call “meeting the bare minimum” anything worth celebrating, though.

The harsh LED lights illuminating the room automatically shut off at 1900. Sparky was like a little nightlight in the darkness. If the security cameras watching the room could see him, there had been no indicator of it. Uldwyn still mostly suspected that he was hallucinating. Hallucinations were what got him in this mess, so how grossly fitting it was for him to be plagued with them in his darkest moments.

“Is my glow going to bother you? I can vanish for a bit so that you can sleep.”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright. Well… Good night, Uldwyn.” It was strange, perhaps even bizarre, to be wished well under the circumstances. It was ridiculous, even. Yet it was a small comfort, none-the-less. Not that it stopped the restless sleep, tossing and turning, punctuated by nightmares of laughter and screams.

O BROTHER MINE.

Sparky floated closer, summoned by the faint whimper that sounded from the slumbering man, only to dart back when Uldwyn woke with a cry, bolting up. Panting, he ran a hand over his face, trying to collect himself. He glanced to Sparky, who remained where he was, only a foot away.

“Are you okay?” The little light asked softly. Uldwyn simply growled softly and laid back down, pointedly putting his back to Sparky. He still found himself instinctively curling up, trying to find some sort of self-comfort. After a few moments, he heard soft humming behind him. He opened his eyes, but he didn’t turn around.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to help. I thought maybe a lullaby would help,” Sparky replied. “Do you… want me to stop?” Uldwyn stared into the darkness, silently contemplating the question.

“No. Go ahead.” The humming resumed. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was falling for the same trap all over again.

[lullaebies]

What the differences between aegon&helaena in the book compare to what we got in the show, and why do you think that their show!portrayal isn't good? (Didn't read the books)

Let me start this ask by saying that I am a biased blog to ask this and while I try to be objective, I highly rec reading the book and forming your own opinion on the matter. I will list here what I think didn't work in the show, but this is only my opinion from my point of view. This will be a very long ask - apologies. warning as well for spoilers.

Let's start with Helaena because she's a lot easier to go over. The issues with Helaena imo is not that she's better written in the books, she isn't - she has little lines and moments there too, but the problems are as such: she is described as an entirely different person in the books, and while the show is supposed to elaborate on the characters they adapt because the books describes historical figure and hence doesn't have much characterization, the additions to Helaena's character are very shallow and aren't fleshed out at all.

Helaena is not a dreamer in the book, nor does she have some evident hyperfixation on bugs or any neurodivergent traits that we know of. Now these additions would be lovely in the right hands! They even are lovely now, but the neurodivergent rep is tropey (autism comes with superpower trope), and not well done because don't give her much personality beside it. The dreamer plot is nice but overtakes her entire character because practically 95% of her lines are prophecies. We do not see her reacting to any pivotal event in a way that remotely expresses an opinion except "I feel uncomfortable" or "I feel happy."

In the books, we are told she's an active mother, we are told she has had a seat on Aegon's war councils to advocate for peace, we are told she is liked by the smallfolk to some capacity and had a happy personality overall. We are also told she is a bit plumper which is worth mentioning in this section - because everything I just wrote are things that practically erased from the show. So, people are rightfully upset - the Helaena we were described, despite being ingrained in traditional feminine roles, was an active person with her own thoughts and life, and her relatable/more admirable characteristics were erased in favor the show!personality that isn't in accordance to the text and isn't fleshed out enough in order to have her matter to the wide audience. I went on rants before about how she has been made solely a victim and nothing more but I will not get into this here.

As for Aegon, the issue lies with framing, entirely reduced screentime and lack of exploration of young!Aegon in a sympathetic way, the way they actively did not write scenes for him that are positive and have seemingly taken out the cores of his arc and made them not matter.

Aegon II is not a good person in the books, either, do not mistake it. He is not any better of a husband or a person and for his part as a father we don't really know how he was with the kids. That being said, the show has decided to make his absolute worst caricature of him, while taking away any positive quality he could have had or any relatable point to him.

Sunfyre, his dragon, is a big thing for Aegon - he loves the dragon. His sigil is made after Sunfyre. We may not know how involved Aegon was in his children's lives, but we know he raged enough at their demise he wanted to burn Dragonstone to the ground. We also know that Aegon took up the crown in order to defend his family, which is something the show neglected to say. Sunfyre and Aegon's children are two things that in Ep9 appparently Aegon is willing to leave behind to go away on a ship to Essos. It's egregious how butchered he is.

In the books as a child, he didn't get along with the Strong boys - he certainly didn't bully Aemond even if there was rivalry there. In the books, he didn't start the fight at the last supper by sexually harrassing Baela, and in fact, he was the one who got into a fistfight with Jace over the dance with Helaena. This is not about a ship moment here - but the fact the choice was made to make him seem as the instigator in every turn is not only crazy but also extremely unempathetic to him. He has reasons to be angry, you can glean them off of the text - even if it's jealousy, that makes sense - but no, in the show he's just a cunt who is the manifestation of all evil. The fact that we consistently see him naked (as a child, too!!) to portray him as a deviant is unsubtle and has no decorum about it.

He is consistently shown to be the devil in his family despite also being very much a victim in his own circumstances and the hypocrisy does not jive with me. I will not comment on the choice to make him a full on rapist because frankly that is not beyond his character in the books, but for a show that wants people to be conflicted, it was a damn bad choice, especially as other horrible actions to the smallfolk are not nearly as demonized when other characters make them.

Basically, all empathy escaped the writers when they decided to write him, it seems. Most his empathetic lines seem to come from improv by Tom Glynn Carney. They simply chose the worst possible way to go with him, took away the parts of him that made him sort of likable (using this word generously) and left him with self-depreciation that makes him so passive that he has to have his ass dragged to the throne instead of Cole or Aemond convincing him. It's just very clear the writers do not like him, basically. He has his downfalls but he is still human - he still could've had a decent arc and understandable reasons to most of what he does in better hands.

So basically, these are my thoughts. Sorry for the length again, but you did get me on a day where I needed to vent LMAO. Thank you for the ask.