#also this wasn't meant to be this long lol

[sokkastyles]

I just came across a Top 10 most heroic Avatar characters and Zuko wasnt one of them. Their reason Was apparantly that "Zuko only turned good in S3 and couldnt be seen as a hero before". Idk that left a very bad Taste in my Mouth especially considering that Bumi made Nr7. What are your thoughts on this ?

Lol I read the article and I think the bad taste comes from the idea that being a hero means you have to have a spotless record? It's the problem I have with most Zuko discourse that usually comes from people trying to diminish his importance in the narrative. I mean, Kya, Ursa, and Yue also make the list but like, they are barely in the narrative and their roles are mostly to be innocent and idealized and then die or disappear.

Well, then, I vote the papaya Katara ate in the fortune teller episode. It gave its life for that girl even thought it was hated.

I don't get the logic of "someone who only appears briefly can be a hero, but Zuko wasn't a hero long enough." Yue appears in two episodes. Zuko may have started out as a villain, but he was fighting the baddies and demonstrating qualities of compassion and sacrifice by episode 3. I'd say what got him banished itself was an act of heroism and that Zuko was actually a hero long before he himself knew it, and even when he is free to be a true hero he spends most of the time denying that he is one.

Not to quote that edgelord line about heroes from The Dark Knight, but if a character gets labeled as a hero just because they didn't live long enough to have their actions scrutinized while another character can't be labeled as one because they survived the world trying to beat their heroism out of them and came out stronger then idk what a hero is.

Here's what google has to say about the definition of a hero:

"...especially excessively or unexpectedly so."

In fact, I'd argue that one of the reasons Zuko stands out as a hero in the story is because we don't expect it of him. But it's a far more realistic and relatable heroic ideal than the idea that people are good or evil from birth and the hero saves the world because destiny says so.

The best heroes are the ones who do it even though it's hard, even thought destiny tells them that heroism wasn't meant for them. The whole thing about heroic sacrifice is that it has to be a sacrifice, meaning that they have to choose it consciously. It's not a heroic sacrifice if a character just suffers or has things taken from them.

I'll also provide one of my favorite definitions of a hero, from Quest for Glory 2. Hold onto your seats, because I'm busting out a poem from a computer game from 1990.

And they ask "What is a hero?"

Though the answer's very clear.

He's the one who faces danger

When the darkness hovers near.

He will face the fiercest foe

When another needs his aid,

He will dare to defy death

Even though he is afraid.

He works not just for glory

And he does it not for gain,

but because he knows that others

will be spared a greater pain.

He won't always follow orders

For he dares to answer "why?"

And unless he likes the reason

He refuses to comply.

He will brave the battle boldly

Even though he may not win.

He will face his fate unflinching,

For he is a paladin.

And they ask, "What is a hero?"

Though the answer's evident.

He's the one who faces death

Knowing that his life's well spent.

[dilf-docs]

Tuyo Será, Y Tuyo Será

sub!javi peña x younger!reader

summary: after an stressful day at the office, javi finds solace in your warm embrace: you, his informant, who he has yet to cross that line he always crosses, like a goddamn vice.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, pwp, sub!javi, mommy/daddy kink (they call eachother mami and papi), oral (m. and f. receiving), hand job, face-sitting, fingering, creampie, p. in v., overestimulation, praise kink, degradation kink (u call him a slut once or twice lol), real men yearn™, bit of angst sprinkled, no sense whatsover just feels™

word count: 5,924 words

side note: i'm gonna be very honest with y'all. i listened to the theme song of narcos, tuyo (so good check it out), and got infested with a real bad crave to re-watch (but before reheating my narcos nachos i want to finish my romcom february marathon and finish the mission impossible movies). also, my tl is filled with javi gifs and my lewd thoughts abt him have gone beyond comprehension (not the bush reblog doing numbers...). see, it all started with an audio of him yelling maricón while i browsed twitter, which in case u don't know is the spanish equivalent to the f slur. sorry, it made me horny. javier's so bossy and intimidating but what if he wasn't? i'm all in for brat taming but i have a thing for sub boys lowkey. ah, i almost forgot, HAPPY VALENTINES MY LOVELY CITIZENS! (it's literally 12am) this is a gift from my single delulu romantic ass to you (and it's filthy sex? well, yes! isn't that a testament of our town's core beliefs? that's true love to me idk)

The air around him was tingued with women for the night, licor, suave conversation and burnt cigarettes.

The Cali cartel case had been stuck for a while. After the success of Pablo Escobar's hunt and Murphy leaving, besides his ascend, Peña felt the need for things to go fast; succesful. Besides, he had found it hard to balance the stress left behind, the one women and nicotine used to fix before.

He's nursing a glass of whiskey, despite claiming he was going to quit that too, eyes scanning the bar for you.

Sure, informants weren't his thing anymore, but he had a long history with you: you, who despite the violence and danger stayed, probably for the money, probably for him. Yes, he likes to think from time to time that your reason for choosing Colombia and denying the fake ID and passport he gave you was for this borrowed time you had with each other, filling the gaps between long nights at an office too big for a person, all to avoid the same loneliness waiting for him back at his apartment, because home meant warmth, and there was no one waiting for him back there.

So he chose to entertain you when he picked up the phone.

"Peña" he answered the call, fingers drumming against his desk and the poor hues of the lamp above scattered paperwork, some pages tinted with coffee circles caused by the base of his mug, filled over and over again.

"It's me" and he smiles at the sound of your voice, sweet, unlike the bitter taste of caffeine. "Is it a bad time to call? Are you busy?"

Filler questions, to steady your heart. The lonely office answers back mockingly on Peñas side.

"For you, I'm always available" he responds instead, cheeky. "What are you doin' up late at this hour?" he's asking, even if the question applies to himself as well. "Stayed up thinking 'bout something?"

Your tongue backfires you, speaking before you can stop yourself.

"You" there's a satisfied hum on the other line.

"So I take you call for a lead?" he leans back on his chair, arm resting behind his face. "Would be real helpful, hermosa"

"Sorry to dissapoint" how would you reveal the real reason you called? No. Never. "I just wanted to hear you"

He's standing up before he can register, pacing around the dim lit room.

"Baby..." he's already speaking up, condescending. No, not you too.

"C'mon, Peña" your heart beats dangerously, feeling it swell painfully on your throat. "It's been a long week, hasn't it?" a beat, "I'm on this bar near the office, mind if you join an old pal for a drink? I know you are alone too"

The feeling settles in, like his mind.

"Yeah?" he challenges.

"I see the office lights, all dark. 'Cept for yours"

He laughs, "You're a true detective, baby. Might have to hire you"

He's always calling you baby, because that's what you were when you started working this. Baby first, laced with intrigue and amusement at how you'd stand tall despite your age, ready to risk your life to free your home of the violence and terror drugs had brought upon. Baby now, more like a reflex, a habit Javier Peña can't break; the worst of his vices.

"Well, am I not already?" you laugh. "Come, will you? Just a drink and I'll leave you alone. You're free to drown on paperwork after that"

Worst is, Javier had already agreed the moment he picked up the saccharine tinge of your voice on the phone, impossibly addicting.

"Deal"

So now he's here. And he's finally seen you.

"You're here"

He takes a quick scan of your body, sporting a rather simple outift. Yet you seem to pull it off, hair cascading down in soft waves that ressemble the sea, very fitting in their job to compliment your tan skin.

"I am"

"You said you were here" he remarks, finishing his glass.

You take the glass from his hands, stiff from all day at the office, then raise it, mockingly alluding a toast.

"Wanted to let you relax for a bit" you add. "Thought you stopped"

"I needed it" not to admit out loud your call had made him nervous, hidden desperation and fire behind your apparent casual words. Or maybe it was his mind, far too tired and stressed to think straight.

"Good. Ready to go?"

"Where?" but he's already stand up from the stool.

"My place" and there's that same undertone he picked at first (once an agent, always an agent) now less hidden and more out in the open for him to follow or quit, much like any other of his addictions.

"For?"

"It's up to you to find out"

"Cheeky baby" he's chastising, his eyes full of something dark, and not punishing. "Are you going to murder me? Drugged my drink?" he attempts to do a terrible joke, all to calm down the fire on his soft belly and the throb of his cock. Fuck, when was the last time he had blown off some steam?

"You don't bite the hand that feeds you" you quip, but your teeth ressemble fangs. "¿Quién te crees que soy?" (who do you think I am?)

The walk to your apartment felt longer, despite having been here on a pass before, or when sending novice agents to watch for your safety.

He's never been inside before, but now he's taking the stairs two at a time, despite being tipsy, reaching your floor while you giggle with confidence, yet there's some uncertainity when you fumble your keys due to shaky hands, probably because you've never let him inside or because of your plan for tonight.

"It's very you" he comments out loud while you mumble a soft Shoes off. He takes another quick scan, some dishes drying on the counter, a rugged carpet and a flower vase with some petals fallen over the coffee table in front of your TV. It looks like a home, lived in: unlike his, that seems a curated effort to show someone occupies it, as a hotel room rather than a place to live. It's your warmth, thought, the one that wraps him up like a blanket or a fire.

Peña's been so busy looking around that he doesn't notice you've dissapeared.

"Baby?" he searches around, "¿a dónde te fuiste?" (where did you go?)

"In here" coming from the yellow-ish light at the end of the hallway.

He walks in slow steps, the floor creaking under his weight. Javier is opening the door, and the last he expects is to see you like this: on the bed, sprawled out. Fuck, he had imagined it alright: pumping his cock to the thought of you, but never thinking he'd got the very real thing for him.

"Baby-"

But here you were, all while he drools like a pathetic hungry dog, wordless and so fucking touch starved.

"Like what you see?"

His eyes roam over every dip and curve of your body, how your skin trembles even if he hasn't touched you and the room is hot. Heat is building within him, primal instincts fighting to take you, claim you, and make you his. It's a goddamn burning feeling he knows all too well.

"Mucho" he grins wolfishly, purring "bet it tastes as good as it looks" (a lot)

You sport a victory grin. "Why don't you find out?"

Your voice is like a siren call, and he's surrendering to the years of depriving himself of you.

He slowly walks to the bed, afraid if he speds up things, he'll wake up of this dream. He begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing his honeyed skin and soft belly from stress eating and licor, a smattering of dark hair trailing down past his navel.

Peña makes a pause at the edge of the bed, where you have sat up. He delicately cups with his rough hand your soft cheek, capturing your lips in a short n' sweet kiss. Finally, tasting all of you, tongue in your mouth wet, exploring every corner to get to know you: not the brave and loudmouth but the needy and touchy side of yours in bed. It speaks about pent-up passion and a hunger that seems to be only sated by the taste of you; the water to calm his thrist.

"Need you, baby" he breathes against your swollen lips. "Want to feel your skin and heartbeat as my own"

But a smile paints your lips as you sit on the edge, and he's unsure what it means.

"Slow down, needy boy" you taut, kissing the tip of his nose. "Do you remember our call? Said you've been through some stress" Javier lets out a little whine, "haven't you?" he nods eagerly, melting under your confident touch across his bicep, tracing his stomach that protudes over his jeans and belt. "So, how about this? I had an idea"

He raises an eyebrow, trying not to get distracted by your persistent touch.

"Better make it good. My patience is wearin' thin" and you can't help but coo at his strained pants and needy demeanor, so contrasting to his broody and serious nature.

"You've had a terrible week" fingers now getting lost down his happy trail, dangerously low to his pulsating cock. "Why don't I help you? But not like you think, no" you smile. "Let me take care of you, baby. I'll do all the work, and all you have to do is follow my orders like the obedient pretty boy you are. Sounds easy, right?"

A shiver runs down his spine as his dick strains against his pants. He bites back a groan, hips twitching involuntarily as you tease him.

He gulps, thinking about it. It's a new proposition that makes his cock pulse. Truthfully, it's been a week, no, weeks filled with stress, and the idea of letting someone else take control, despite his preference on him being the one in charge, aligned with his powerful masculine husk, makes it hard to picture it. But your parted swollen lips, eyes set with that determination he loves and his aching aging body...

Al carajo con todo. Peña is in. (Fuck this shit)

"Are you sure you can handle all of this?" with a stupid grin on his face, signaling his heating body, glistening with a sheen of sweat from the make-out session from before. "I'm not used to this, but for you, baby, I might make an exception. I trust you to take good care of me, yes?"

You hum, standing up. Even if he towers over you, you feel in power.

"¿Cuál es tu plan, mami? I want to hear every filthy sinful thing you have in mind" (what's your plan?)

You stand in your tiptoes to lick his lips, then planting a wet kiss that sends a jolt of electricty straight to his aching cock. Javier's heart pounds with anticipation while your tongue roams his mouth, making out until his pupils are blown wide and hair disheveled. He must look pathetic now, but he doesn't give a flying fuck about it.

"Oh, but I don't want to spoil any surprises... it wouldn't be fun" you grin. "Are you willing to be obedient for me? So you get to see what I have planned. Now sit, on the edge of the bed, now"

Wordlessly, he sits on the edge you previously had, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his thighs spread wide in a delicious manspread Peña often did.

"I've done as you asked, baby" voice firm with a low desire. "What's your next move?"

His chest heaves with each ragged breath that drags like a cigarette.

You drop on your kness, pushing his thighs further apart, red nails (just as he liked; did them a day earlier for him) digging into his jeans as you squeeze the thick muscle. Then, you lean down and press a kiss to his bulge. A low, guttural groan tears from his throat, touch igniting sparks of pleasure that raise through his veins., hips bucking involuntarily, seeking fricction. His hands clench on his side, hold as white as your sheets, trying not to grab you and disobey the looming domineering aura you had imposed on him.

"Want to hear your pretty sounds when I treat you good, baby. All of them; don't hold back"

"Fuck, baby" he pants, voice starined with the effort of holding back. "W-want to hear your every breathy moan, every filthy curse and-"

You nuzzle your face into his bulge, cutting his words effectively, the rough fabric scratching your face over his painfully hard bulge, eyes teasing.

"Hmh, hear me? No, papi. Today is all about you, just you"

He shudders at the contrast of your soft skin over the rough denim. He gazes down, eyes as dark and intense as yours, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple from the intensity of his arousal.

"You're torturing me, baby" his voice is a low rumble on his chest. "You want me to beg, plead for your touch like a desperate man?"

Peña reaches down, calloused fingers skimming along your jawline before tilting your chin up to force your gaze to meet his own. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, the rough digit dragging across the delicate rosy skin.

"Very well. I'll play your game and be what you want me to be"

"Please, want to hear you baby: beg, plead for me. And I shall give" you squeeze his thigh, playing with his belt buckle, a soft metallic clink echoing in the charged air. "Would you want me to help you? Use your words"

"Please, y/n" he raps, your name a delicious sound on his lips. "Please, I need you. Your touch, your kiss, your everything... I'm begging you, baby, help me"

He never imagined he'd have you like this, let alone, on this scenario. Why had he restrained himself when you had always wanted this as much as he did: with the way your eyes took him in everytime he walked in the room, or the way your hand would linger on your brief meetings to share information. It was the way you held onto him, like faith.

Peña reaches down, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt hidden under his belly, struggling to undo the clasp. The agent curses, feeling dumb all of a sudden with his display of desperation, at how a young girl gets him so out of himself, horny stupid. May be the lack of women or just, well, you.

"Touch me, baby" he pleads, his eyes dark and intense. "Wrap your hands around my cock and stroke me- Want to feel your mouth on me, for you to take me, please-"

He leans back, chest heaving. This raw need he feels, it tugs at his heart and cock.

"Since you've been such a good boy, I'll reward you" you smile, oh so sickenly sweet, as if you weren't edging him. "Gonna shove my cock so far my throat you won't be able to think of anything else"

Javier shudders at your words, cock leaking with precum at the thought of your lips around his shaft. The room falls silent, and he swears you might just be able to hear the beat that pounds in his ears, that be the reason why you're smiling while he anticipates your touch.

You unzip his jeans with a calculated sense of purpose, the denim material parting to reveal the straining bulge of his erection.

"Such a pretty cock, Javi" the nickname makes his groan, "is this for me?"

He lifts his hips, allowing you to tug the jeans down his thick thighs, dick in display.

"Fuck, y/n" his voice echos a needy rumble. "I'm not a man who begs, cariño, but for you, I'll do"

Peña's rough fingers grab your hair, guiding your face closer. The room grows hotter, and you swear you can smell his musky aroma, impregnated with desire and arousal.

So your reward is to wrap your lips around his tip and suck harshly. Javier lets out a rough hiss at the sensation of your mouth, even if just the tip. He feels your tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh, lapping at the drops of precum that had already leaked from his tip.

"Dios" he cries, his head falling back as he archs into your touch. His hand's hold on your hair turns more rough, as he's fighting the urge to thrust deep into your warm welcoming mouth.

You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You enjoy every second of his disheveled state, and the way your eyes darken, reveling in the power you hold over him, Peña's desire burns even more ardent.

"Please" he begs, "need to feel your throat around my cock as you swallow me down" and then he's bucking his hips slightly, not to force himself on you, but to let you set the pace. He moans at the wet sounds of your sucking, lips stretched around his girth.

Over and over, you take him, your technique getting more confident with each turn.

"You're a natural at this" he praises, voice rough with arousal. "You're gonna be the death of me"

You pull out with a Pop! making him whine.

"Don't talk, baby. I just want to hear your moans you desobedient old man" he barely registers your next move, slapping his cock. He lets out a sharp, breathless moan at the contact. "Will you behave now and let me jerk you off?"

"Sí, sí, sí" he pleads without a second thought, or embarrasment of his needy state. He feels your hand wrap around his throbbing dick, fingers barely able to encircle his thick girth. You stroke him with a teasing slowness, and his hips buck involuntary as he gasps, the pain bordering on pain at the intensity.

He then bites his lips, trying to hold back the desperate pleas that'll sink his masculinity even further, but his chest heaves with the effort, his skin sweat-slicked over his tense muscles.

"Mmm, yes..." he breathes out, the wet sounds of your palm gliding along his arousal, more than he could take. "I'm all yours, baby. Use my cock the way you want"

You smile, "that's my good boy"

He tangles his fingers in your hair once more, guiding your hand as you stroke him. Your fingers and lips brushing drive him wild, whines he can't contain coming out.

"D-don't stop" he begs, eyes fluttering as he looses himself in the haze. "P-please, keep on touching me, making me feel this good. I want to paint your skin with my seed-"

"Beg for it" your voice is low, and you slap his cock again. "Go on, wanna hear you, pretty boy"

Javier lets out a shar gasp at the sudden sting of pain mixing with the pleasure coursing through his veins. His balls tighten, the pressure a ringing sound on his ears as you continue to stroke him ruthlessly.

"Please" voice reduced to a desperate, needy whine. "Please, I need it. I need to cum so fucking badly. Te lo pido, cariño. Déjame, por favor" (i'm asking you, honey. let me, please)

He bucks his hips frantically, fucking himself with your fist at the amounted pleasure.

It's a real picture: disheveled hair that sticks to his equally sweaty skin, fluttering droopy eyes, ragged panting and desperate moans spilling from his pretty lips.

"Fuck, I can't- can't hold it back" he mumbles, eyes wild and fevered. "I'm going to cum, all over your hand. Please, let me have this. ¡Te lo ruego!" (i beg you)

He was lost in the haze of lust, body trembling with the force of his impending climax. The pressure was unbereable; he needed to find release.

"Aw. Pretty boy can't take it anymore, can he?" you coo, laughing a bit. Your nails dig on his thigh. "Do it, baby. And don't hold back: I want to hear every filthy little sound out of your lips"

Peña throws his head back at the same time a low, guttural roar of pleasure rips through his throat. His cock jerks and spams in your grip, spurting hot shots like a volcano. Javier's never felt like this before: so fucking hard, hips bucking and thrashing as he rides out the waves of his intense climax, painting your hand with his cum.

"S-so good. Se siente jodidamente bien, carajo" he moans, hips jerking erratically as the last spurts of his release dribble out onto your fingers. (shit, it feels so good, fuck)

His body slumps back against the bed, and from your knees, you get to see his chest and tummy rising up and down, struggling to catch his breath. His seed still glistens on your hand, so you do the most reasonable thing and suck it off. Javi's cock goes hard again at the sound, dying to see what it looks like, if the image is as obscene as what he can hear, but his back is killing him, so he lays still, fluttering eyes as he looks at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk at the corners of his mouth.

"That was-" he can't even speak, oh God, "I want to" he fumbles his words, "want to please you in return, baby"

But you're not done for tonight. You get up, and he gets to observe your body as you slowly undress the last remanents of your clothes (underwear), a show for him and his hooded eyes. Peña licks his lips like a starved man, but fuck, wasn't he?

Then, you push his body to stay against the mattress, sitting on his lap. He gasps sharply as you pin him down, straddling his lips with a wicked gleam in your eyes.

"Do you think you deserve to cum inside me, Javi?"

He can feel your core pressing against his sensitive cock, wet and hot, making him shiver.

You pinch is nipple, waiting for an answer. A soft cry escapes his lips, and he's arching into your touch. There's a jolt that goes straight to his dick, and he can feel himself getting overestimulated, twitching and jumping under you.

But his eyes are dark and hazy, wandering with lust your body, hands roaming wildly with teasing touches. You brush his too, no, burn it where your touch meets his soft tanned skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Mmm, I don't know if I deserve such a reward" his tone low and seductive, but there's a twinge of insecurity laced, as if he does believe he isn't worth it. "But I want it. God, I need it" you smile at his pleading. "Want to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock, for you to milk me for dry, to take every last drop of my cum"

He rolls his hips slightly, semi-hard cock brushing against your dripping sex.

"Tell me what I have to do to earn the privilege" he whines. "Haré lo que sea, sólo dilo" (i'll do anything, just say so)

"That's my good boy"

You grab his cock, settling it on your entrance, wet folds receiving him. You tease the tip before sliding it slowly inside, and Javier's body shivers when your slick heat taunts him, making him gasp sharply. He feels your moist coat his dick, allowing him to glide his cock along your slit with ease.

"So fucking wet, baby" he praises with a groan, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he fought the urge to surge forward, to bury himself in your welcoming heat in one hard thrust. "So ready for me"

You sink down slowly, every inch of your tight walls gripping him. It flutters and squeezes around his cock perfectly, making his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

"Feels so good, baby" he pants, hips lifting slightly to meet yours as you settle onto his lap. He can feel you enveloping him completely and its driving him mad. "Gonna make me cum before I'm even fully hard" 

He meets your gaze, drowning in your dilatated pupils, your breasts bouncing with every move and breath. Javier finds that, with such a view, it's not hard to fall into this supplicant version of himself.

You start bouncing on his cock, letting it hit all your spots. You whine, softly.

"God, Javi, feels so good-" he's babbling nonsense in spanish as he holds you by your hips. You feel your release coming.

"Shit, Javi. Mami is cumming-"

You fuck yourself faster on him, making Peña moan louder when you ride him harder, hips slamming down onto his with urgency. The wet slap of fleash against flesh fills the room, mingling with his cries and your whines.

"Do it, baby. Cum for me, want to know I made you feel good" he urges as he feels your walls flutter and squeeze around his dick, his fingers sinking into your ass' soft skin, guiding your movements.

With one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside your cunt. You come undone around him, pussy clenching and rippling along every inch of his cok, sending him over the edge.

"Fuck, mami. I have to-"

You hold his hips down, still on your senses despite just having an orgasm.

"Wanted to cum without my permission, you needy slut? I said I want to hear you beg for it, ask me to come, and don't ever do it without me telling you to"

He can feel his cock pulsing and throbbing inside her, the urge to release his load overwhelming. But at your stern command, he forces himself to hold back, gritting his teeth as he fights for control.

"Perdóname, bebé" he pants, voice strained as he holds back. "It won't happen again without your permission" (forgive me, baby)

"Good. Have we learned, then?"

"Yes, yes!" he cries out, eyes wide and pleading. "Please, y/n. I beg you. Need to cum so badly, I- it's too much, please let me. Please, please, please!"

His fists ball tightly on his sides, knuckles turning white as his body trembles with his impending release.

"Please, let me have your permission to cum," he begs, voice a desperate, needy whine. "I'll do anything, baby. I'll be your good boy, your obedient fucktoy. Just say the word. Please, I'm begging you- let me cum for you"

You push your erection against your core, nodding in response.

"Cum for me, loudly, so I know that you're thankful for this"

With your permission granted and hips pressing down firmly against his, Javier allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming urge to cum.

Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted from his shaft, painting your velvety walls with his essence. He can feel each powerful spurt of his release, the sensation of his balls emptying inside you pushing him to even greater heights of ecstasy. The pleasure was almost too much to comprehend, the feeling of your hot, slick walls milking his cock for every last drop of his release sending him spiraling into a state of euphoria.

"Thank you, baby" he pants, struggling to catch his breath. "Thank you for letting me cum inside you"

"Is that so?" I chuckle, "want to really show me how thankful you are?"

Without telling him so, you slip out of his dick, cum still leaking from your legs, and place on top of him: on his face, even if he slightly struggles for air, keeping yourself held up on the headboard of his bed, barely putting any pressure on him.

"Then eat me, baby" you feel his hot breath against my folds, "reward me for riding your needy dick; wanna hear just how pussy starved you are"

Javier's eyes widened as you suddenly straddle his face, the scent and taste of your combined releases filling his nostrils and coating his tongue. He could feel the sticky essence, a mix of your arousal and his own cum, smearing across his cheeks as you ground your dripping core against his mouth.

Without hesitation, Peña dives in, his tongue delving between your folds to lap up the sensitive nub. He moans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and against your cunt.

"Mmm, fuck yes" he growls, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pulls you down harder against his face, savoring your sweet pussy that tastes like him too. "I'm starved for this pussy, baby, could eat this pretty little cunt for hours and never get enough"

Peña seals his lips around your clit, suckling the swollen bud as he fucks his tongue deeper inside. He can feel his cock twitching and hardening once more, the sensation of your dripping sex against his face and the taste of your releases on his tongue reigniting his desire.

You grind my hips up to meet his face, moaning loudly as he continues to devour your cunt. He looks up at you, mouth still glued to my pussy. His eyes are glassy and he's whimpering into your folds. The image alone makes your pussy gush.

"Sweet boy, keep going. Doing such a good job with your tongue" you moan while his hips buck into nothing in the air, "love how you eat me out"

Javier moans into your dripping pussy as you ground her hips against his face, the praise and encouragement spurring him on. Your juices flow freely, coating his chin until they drip down onto his chest.

"Love eating this perfect pussy. I fucking love the taste of you, the way you gush and quiver against my tongue. I could spend all day with my face buried between your thighs, worshipping this sweet cunt"

He could feel his own arousal growing, his cock hardening and throbbing as he lost himself in the act of pleasuring you.

Spurred on by your praising moans, he redoubled his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he plungs two fingers deep into your soaked cunt. He pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside you.

"That's it, hermosa. Ride my face. Please, use me baby, please"

He can feel your thighs trembling on either side of his head, body tense as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The thought of tasting your release, juices flooding his mouth, made his own arousal swell to painful proportions.

"Would you let me use your nose, papi? Wanna cum on your face, grind off of it" you say, but even if you ask for permission, you're already over it, riding it.

Javier lets out a muffled moan of approval as you begin to grind your dripping pussy more firmly against his nose, using it to stimulate your most sensitive spots. He can feel the sticky essence of your coupling smearing across his upper lip and coating his nostrils as you ride his face with increasing urgency.

"I want to feel you cumming, drenching my face with your sweet juices" he pleads. "Paint my fucking nose with your release, baby"

He could feel your thighs quaking and clenching around his ears, body tensing as you chase your rapidly approaching climax. The scent of your arousal is overwhelming, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils and clouding his mind with lust.

"That's it, baby. Fuck my nose, use it to make yourself cum," he urges. "Give it to me, y/n. Give me everything you have"

You grip the back of his head, pushing him down while grinding your wet pussy across his face. You feel yourself tightening your hold as you come against his mouth, Javier letting out a muffled cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he feels your fingers tangling and tugging demandingly.

"Then be a good boy and take it all"

"Yes, mami!" he gasps, the words vibrating deliciously against your soaked, sensitive flesh. "I'm your good boy. I'll take it all, every last drop"

Peña feels your pussy clench and spasm against his mouth, walls fluttering wildly as your climax crashes over you. He whines deeply, the sound drowned out by the gush of your release flooding his mouth and pouring over his chin. The taste of your arousal is as sweet as he imagined, intoxicating, exploding across his taste buds and sending a bolt of pure lust straight to his aching cock.

"You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet and perfect" he pants, his voice hoarse. "I could drown in this pussy and die a happy man"

He feels your body shaking and trembling above him, hips still grinding weakly against his face. But you still have the strength to lace your fingers through his hair and pull his head back.

You can feel his dick barely grazing your ass, rock-hard again.

"Now swallow it, and I might help you with that" you slap his cock with your free hand. He bucks and jerks at the mix of sensations; the way you toy with him and tease him, only heightening his desperation and desire. "Be a good boy just as you've been. I want to see this throat swallowing it all"

You taut his neck and adam's apple with your nails, the pull exposing the vulnerable column of his throat. He can feel the sharp sting of the nails digging into his skin, the sensation sending a dark thrill of pain and pleasure racing down his spine.

"Yes, mami" his voice a low, submissive rasp. "I'll swallow every drop, just like a good boy"

He tilts his head back further, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps and swallows, trying to obey. The taste of your cum coats his tongue and slides down his throat.

"Good boy" you praise, stroking and slapping his shaft, your eyes never leaving his.

"Fuck!" he cries out, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand.

He can feel his release swiftly approaching, the pressure in his balls growing to an unbearable level. The way you touch him, the taste of your release still lingering on his tongue... he's gone insane, and it's your fault the same man who took down the biggest druglord of the world is now reduced to a moaning mess.

"Please, mami" he begs, his tone desperate. "I need to cum so badly. Will you allow me?"

"Do it" you pant, "and don't hold back any cute cries coming from your lips"

With your permission granted, Javier's cock spams violently in your grip.

"Fuck, yes! I'm cumming so fucking hard, mami. Thank you, baby, thank you so much!"

Thick, hot ropes of cum explod from his cock, painting your hand and his own abdomen with his essence. His body convulses beneath you, muscles clenching and unclenching as his climax tears through him.

He gazes up at you, eyes hazy and mind fucked.

This newfound pleasure was almost too much to comprehend, a weird feeling of ecstasy he had never dreamed of. And it was you, of all people, who had made him come by rendering him to a whiny and needy submissive part of himself he didn't know.

"Thank you for letting me cum, mami" he pants, his voice a low, rough rasp. "I am forever in your debt, baby"

You giggle, laying down next to him, while pressing a soft kiss to his sweat glistening temple.

"Anytime" you reply, so sweet and simple, as if you hadn't completely ruined his life.

But well, wasn't he known for his love to get into places he shouldn't have?

dts: para @ann-gell u know i love u right? my mx valentine, xoxo. no autorizo que te sientas mal así que ten una cochinada ft. javier peñita, te la dedico con amors, my hot funny lovely friend ♡

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Valentine's Day" - BurningCheese Short #10

Remember this? This is the sequel lol. I actually wrote it months ago; I waited until Valentine's Day to post it so it could be "on time" since the other one technically wasn't.

More BurningCheese/GoldenSpice content yaaaayyyyyyyy there's been a dry spell on Tumblr lately and it's made me so fucking sad lol. I gotta pick up the slack or else I'll be dishonoring my blog name. Happy Valentine's Day, you fucking nerds

(Also, there's a pinch of HollyCacao in here for extra seasoning :P)

"I take it you've all had a joyful holiday, my friends?" Pure Vanilla asked, "if all of your smiling faces are not deceiving me, of course?"

"And how!" Hollyberry answered cheerfully. "Valentine's Day is one of my kingdom's most beloved holidays! Love and companionship ought to be celebrated every day, of course, but this day brings out our greatest passion."

"Your people celebrate everything every day, is that not so?" Dark Cacao said with a slight roll of his eyes. "One struggles to find a moment's peace in that place. I still do not know how you don't run out of food and other resources, with how often you all throw your parties and balls."

"Oh, don't be so stiff, Cacao!" Her words came out in the form of lighthearted laughter, punctuated by a playful punch to Dark Cacao's shoulder. "Even you had fun at the festival the day before. You wouldn't have come if you thought you wouldn't have, no?"

"...No. I suppose not." He shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips. "But the brunt of my enjoyment came from being beside you, yourself. And... I am more than happy to come to you if you ask for me. From one end of the earth to the other, if I must."

"I know," Hollyberry murmured, offering him a warm smile in turn. He offered her his hand, tentative yet earnest; she took it gladly, wasting no time lacing their fingers together and squeezing his tight.

Peeking at the pair from behind her berry juice glass, White Lily spoke, "I heard your dragon friend appeared at the festival, as well... How did that go?"

"You mean Pitaya Dragon? He certainly did... and made a mess of the whole kingdom, just like always! Haha!" Hollyberry threw her head back in laughter at the memory. "Less than he would have had Fire Spirit not been around to keep him tame, but even so! That eventful day ended in us all having far less juice to our names than before!"

"And one less chandelier in your dining room, right?" White Lily giggled.

"You heard about that, eh? Let me tell you all the story, then!" Hollyberry leaned forward, the glimmer of merriment in her eyes now shining twice as bright as she cleared her throat and set the proverbial stage. "The festival was meant to conclude with a great feast in the Hollyberry Palace. The doors were open to all, and we had whole tables of food prepared for everyone! The grandest assortment of all was in the royal dining room, and..."

The other Ancients sat still and quiet, bewitched by Hollyberry's exciting tale... all but one, of course.

Save for the occasional chuckle and friendly acknowledgement towards whomever spoke to her, Golden Cheese had remained silent almost the entire meal. If her friends noticed, they had yet to ask about it - and perhaps it was better that way, for there was no guarantee that Golden Cheese would have taken her focus away from the special item nesting in her lap long enough to reply properly. She would have hated to act so rudely. So foolishly.

And yet...

Tracing her fingers idly over the page, she began to smile. Even now, even with the paper sitting a ways away from her face, the sweet scent of jasmine floated up and tickled her nose... and her cheeks grew rosy as she breathed in slow and deep, drinking it in for the umpteenth time, for knowing that he took care to remember all her favorite spices never failed to make her heart flutter.

Her eyes found themselves back at the top, starting their journey from the first word all the way down to the last yet again:

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your laugh,

Your hands the color of a savage harvest,

Hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

The sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

Hunting for you, for your hot heart,

Like a nutmeg tiger on the cliffs of the Spice Ridge."

Could he see the warm glow in her cheeks, even so far away from her? Could he hear the drumming of her heart against her ribcage, flustered yet captivated, all the way wherever he was right then? Would that whirlwind kicking up in her mind gain enough momentum to break free from the confines of her skull, and soar to him, coiling around his body and stitching itself to his skin so he could never be rid of it?

Foolish as it was, she hoped so. Every year, he cast this same spell on her; the words might always be different, but the underlying sentiment was the same. And it always worked, at first to her chagrin, now to her undeniable joy. He knew it, she knew it, he'd long since sapped her of her strength and will to pretend otherwise - and she wanted him to know it, needed him to. It was the least he deserved, seeing and understanding this delightful burden on her heart. And it was all she could give him in return, until they meet again and she could finally-

"It's from him, isn't it?"

The sudden whisper in Golden Cheese's ear made her jump, her wings ruffling in shock. In the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar head of wavy white hair, framing a face now full of dismay.

"Ah- I'm sorry," White Lily said. "I didn't mean to startle you..."

"I- ahem- i-it's nothing," Golden Cheese stammered. "Nothing whatsoever. I hardly even know what you're apologizing for."

"Is it?" Dark Cacao inquired from across the table. "You've been quiet for some time, then you suddenly leap from your seat. It isn't like you."

...Ah. So they did notice, then.

"Your face is quite red, as well," Pure Vanilla fretted, finally opening his eyes enough to gaze at her from beneath his long lashes. "Are you certain you're alright? You aren't catching a fever, are you?"

"I... Well... No. It's..."

Curse Burning Spice. Curse him, well and truly, and his ability to transform her into both the best version of herself and some strange, backwards caricature, sometimes at the same time. No one could ever make Golden Cheese fear the limelight. No one could ever make her tremble and falter beneath the weight of others' eyes, instead of relishing and demanding more of their attention. No one could ever make her wish the earth would obey her command when she needed it to most, and open up and swallow her and her embarrassment whole.

Except for him. Curse him. Curse him and the sway she lets him have over her. Over her heart and soul...

"Oh... I give up." With the same swiftness and grace of a child bringing out the stolen candy hidden behind their back, she raised the letter high enough for them all to see.

"Oh! Is that another one of Burning Spice's poems?" Why did Hollyberry have to say that so loud? "I remember that he wrote you one last year, too! Did he do it again?"

"...Yeah," Golden Cheese said. "He... does so every year now."

"That's so sweet," Hollyberry said warmly.

"Oddly so," Dark Cacao added. "A gesture of sugar from a man of spice... I never took him for that sort."

"But the world is ever full of sweet surprises, is it not?" Pure Vanilla said. "Even in the most unlikely places." The look he gave each and every one of them, lingering on Golden Cheese the longest, was equal parts genuine and teasing. "We all know so, to some degree, I think."

"Yes..." At that, Golden Cheese couldn't keep the soft giggle from bubbling to her lips. "A sweet surprise in an unlikely place, indeed."

"Forgive us all for putting you on the spot, Golden Cheese," he continued. "Although, now knowing the truth behind the redness in your face, I will say..." The slight upturn of his lips grew in length, brushed with a hint of... mischief? "You're more than welcome to excuse yourself, if it's his company you'd rather seek today than ours."

That shade of red on her face darkened to near purple as laughter spilled over the table from all sides except her own. "Well- I'll have you know that I'm upset with him!"

"Are you, now? Are you certain?" Dark Cacao asked jokingly. Not even he had the strength to resist letting a chuckle or two rumble in his throat at her expense.

"As certain as the sun will rise tomorrow," Golden Cheese huffed. "I'm here making a fool of myself in front of my friends, and it's HIS fault. Therefore, his great punishment shall be staying apart from me until I decide to grace him with my presence again."

"Oh my, such cruelty! And on Valentine's Day!" Hollyberry made a face of disappointment at her. "I thought better of you than this, my old friend! You would break your lover's heart like this after he gifted it to you in such a sweet way?"

"And if I would? Is it not the least he deserves?"

"Even if it is," White Lily said, "I still don't think you'll do it. You'd feel too guilty letting him be lonely."

Golden Cheese crossed her arms and looked away, pouting - a telltale sign of defeat from her, if any of them knew her. "Oh... shut up."

More laughter from the lot of them... some of it coming from Golden Cheese herself, soon enough; she just couldn't help herself any longer.

But she WILL punish Burning Spice for his insolence, real or perceived. Whenever she returns to him, she shall greet him with a well-deserved tongue lashing. Won't she?

Still shaking from laughter, she glanced down at the poem again. Sweet in every sense of the word.

...Oh, who is she kidding. No, she won't.

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

You can pry "Burning Spice is actually intelligent and cultured and well-spoken" from my cold, dead hands. You WON'T pry "Burning Spice shows his way with words by writing Golden Cheese romantic poetry" from me no matter my state of life, death and/or decay. I will rise from my grave and deliver a plague unto your house if you even dare to consider it

Also, the poem is "Sonnet XI" by Pablo Neruda (just with a couple of words switched out to make it sound more Cookie Run-esque lol). Chilean poet this time, as opposed to the Indian poet from last. I found this one and thought it suited Burning Spice perfectly haha

[cornflowershade]

so i also agree that the tone shift to the lilly scene was super abrupt, and the scene itself felt kinda rushed and then glossed over— it didn't have time to breath lets say— BUT considering that the scene is there, I wanna talk about what I do like about it! The cool bits!

this scene showed up right around the time my mind was literally wondering about her. We had no conclusion about her previously, didn't see her go to jail or even hear that this happened. For all we knew she had gotten away. Considering she was a main villain in this series, it would've been kind of weird to just have her disappear off-screen and never be mentioned again. (If they didn't bring her back then it should've been swapped with a nice little line of "oh yes she went to jail.")

The FEELING I got when Fadel and Bison walked in there and the guards took their guns. The looks on their faces. You could see, feel, the disadvantage they were at. Because they've just gone through all this time in prison and they don't want to go back!! she has them at a disadvantage because you know they would risk everything by shooting her. They are fully aware.

The moment when things are getting tense and Bison says "I'll kill for you again. I'll do anything you say just let them go" — with like, tears in his eyes???? Do you realize how much this tore at my heart??? He's bargaining for Kant's life here at the expense of everything he's ever longed for himself. Despite everything he's gone through to get out. For dramatic effect I choose to believe that he meant this line seriously (or, I guess, that he had tears in his eyes because saying that even without meaning it was just so painful. But I'll take the more dramatic version.)

Then Lilly agrees to this deal. On a condition that Fadel and Bison poison Babe and Style's dad. I really had to think about this one for a while, because I was trying to figure out her logic. She agrees to letting their boyfriends go, provided they kill their boyfriends' loved ones first. Yes it could simply be as a form of punishment towards Kant and Style for exposing her... but noooo it's more than that. She's accepted Bison's deal of working for her again (supposedly. I mean she has no one else right now, the lady's lost everything so. I guess she could've been planning to kill the boyfriends right after anyway but imma take this at face value right now). So yes she agrees HOWEVER, if she's gonna take that deal, she needs to be certain they won't be able to leave her again. By asking them to kill their boyfriends' loved ones, she's asking them to do perhaps the one thing their boyfriends wouldn't be able to forgive, essentially force-cutting those ties so they can't run back. So they wouldn't even feel like they had the right to run back. And by leaving Style and Kant alive, she would have eternal leverage—listen to me or I'll send someone after them.

They meet at a family dinner table. I mean. The symbolism of it all. (It's been noted that Keen is very obviously missing from Family Dinner, but going beyond the fact that no one cared in their 'family' about him lol... it kinda makes sense. I don't think Lilly would be too surprised that he disappeared while she was in jail. He's probably far off without a trail to follow. She ALSO doesn't know, is not even slightly aware, that Keen also had a boyfriend and also helped betrayed her. No one told her this so he's simply not on her revenge list.)

Bison and Kant have repeatedly had the back and fourth of Bison saying he wants revenge and Kant saying "don't kill 🥺" -- and honestly, I was always kinda on Bison's side?? Okay hear me out. While again the aftermath of this wasn't dealt with at all (I mean at that point I figure Kant went... 'welp, nothing I can do now') I can't help but enjoy seeing the killers in a show about killers do their thing. Kant has always had a very optimistic view of Bison. He's said "i can't imagine you killing anyone." Despite having Bison quite literally threaten his life. He loves Bison but is trying very hard to think, Bison would never murder anyone. Continues trying to think that way for a very long time. Even though he is, objectively, wrong. Kant has seemed to be a believer in, "the power of love can make my boyfriend never do murder again!" and I don't mind that he was wrong. Hoping for Bison to get out of bad-guy-world without stooping to any murderous lows almost feels like a pipe dream, idk. Like back on the island, I remember Bison looking at Kant like 'he just doesn't get it'. Also, not achieving revenge through murder was always posed as Kant's wish for Bison, not Bison's wish for himself. Let the boy enjoy his newfound ability to make life choices lol. He had that dramatic line in ep. 11 "We'll make killing her our last masterpiece." C"MON. What a line. I can't be mad that he came through to deliver on that. And so they do. She killed their parents to steal that role in their lives, and now they kill her—with her own poison used against her—right at the end of the 'family dinner table'. Worth noting that Bison and Fadel did give the law a chance to deal with her, too. Like, they did give their boyfriends' way a chance. It's only when that didn't work that they went Okay guys, we need to be practical here and optimism won't save us. We tried your way now we try ours. She's gonna keep coming back if we don't end things here. Also Kant having to watch Bison kill someone and face up to the fact that yes, this is a thing that he is capable of. He was in fact a hit man this whole time. AghH!! Again we don't get to see this be processed sadly and then have another startling cut to them cuddling in bed. But at least what that does show is this: Kant saw what Bison is capable of—after all that internal denial going on for 12 episodes—and went Yes, I Still Love Him. And they both move on from it together.

roofie gang full circle!

By using the poison, Fadel and Bison manage to choose the one sneaky route that can't really be traced back to them. Not shooting her isn't just to 'make her suffer a more painful death,' it's to protect themselves. They're not going back to jail for this. As usual, Fadel is the one who formulates the logical plan, and then Bison delivers. (Though yes it would've been cool if Fadel got a turn to do the poisoning. Actually my thought on this is that they could've fed it to her together. But also it checks out that it was Bison.) Lilly has nowhere to run. She could try, but there's two of them and they both have guns. She's surrounded and as she said herself, by this point she has basically lost everything. And so she dies. (We do see her choking guys, I don't believe not seeing a dead body is supposed to imply she survived this.) They are finally free.

For a show about hit men, they actually don't do a lot of killing. They didn't even kill the guy Lilly ordered a hit on [who exposed the truth about her to them], as he was shown to be alive later on when Kant & Style gave him over to Christ. So, what have we seen them do? We had a flashback to their first kill—okay. But what about present day, how many murders have there been? From start to finish in the series. The answer is two. Exactly two. At the start of the first episode and at the end of the last. One hit for Lilly, and one hit for themselves. There's something poetic about that.

There might be more but that's it off the top of my head. So yes, I think this scene could've had more room, could've taken it's time more and perhaps been longer? It could’ve hit harder. And YES it was certainly tonally abrupt... Would I have missed it if it wasn't there? Okay, not really. Would it be interesting to see some fallout from it? Sure (actually it's a great opportunity for some fanfic haha). BUT... I dunno. All things considered I do think it was pretty cool. I’m not mad that it was there and it didn’t detract from my enjoyment. (Honestly the part I enjoyed least was probably Iceland DONT KILL ME OKAY. I love kantbison and the tickets scene was so sweet and perfect and needs to be there but the actual greenscreen Iceland part was kinda boring to me 😭 replace that screen time with some fallout idk. most controversial thing I’ve said in this whole post. Sorry I’ll leave)

[sunnemona]

☆hello esteemed users of Tumblr Dot Com here is my extremely disorganised indigenous (arawak tribe) dreamtale twins post as promised

☆quick note; everything i say here is Only in the context of a human au, this does not apply to regular magic skeletons (obviously lol). other than that, everything i say here somewhat ties into the storyline of my dreamtale rewrite (with the only change being that the twins are human for this post); among other headcanons featured in my rewrite, dream is transmasc and throughout this post is referred to with she / her when being talked about pre-incident. the entirety of this post is extremely self indulgent. i, myself, am also indigenous arawak. cw for allusions to colonisation & heavy discussions of racism. that is all i think

☆first and foremost - “Dream” and “Nightmare” are not the twins’ true names, they are english “names” forced onto the twins; they have True names in lokono dian (the language of the arawak tribe) following arawak naming practices. their “true” names are Hadali & Kathi, lokono words meaning “sun” & “moon” (which is also where my blog title comes from)

^ what i headcanon their full true names to be :)

☆they used their english “names” (names in parentheses because "dream" and "nightmare" are hardly names at all) in the village (as the village refused to call them by their true names), & used their true names with each other. (side note; i like to treat the village as a metaphor for colonisation in some way)

☆nightmare hated his english “name” (for obvious reasons!!) and refused to acknowledge it as something that was meant to refer to him as it hurt So much to be called Nightmare like he was repulsive - Dream disliked hers too for the simple reason that it wasn't hers and because of how the village dehumanised her (being given a “name” that wasn't hers & also wasn't a Name was the least of it, actually) but she never expressed this

☆however. However. After the apple incident. The twins both kept the “names” the village forced on them. And abandoned their true names as they began subconsciously leaning into the roles & expectations the village placed on them both. Do you hear me. Do you hear me .

☆okay quick intermission so i can discuss appearance headcanons - i think dream & nightmare (pre incident) were identical and looked like normal human children (except dream had white hair - contrasting with nightmare’s black hair - & both the twins had unnaturally coloured eyes). Nightmare was allowed to keep his hair naturally long and braid it however he pleased (the village wanted nothing to do with him, and it was easier to other him if he looked visibly other anyway) but Dream’s hair was forcibly cut by the village in an effort to force her into being “civilised” / conforming with the culture of the (white, european) village

☆post incident dream’s white hair has been changed to gold (not blonde, it's. Gold.) due to the apple he ate (he has also figured out he’s trans but that's not important here).

☆i think dream hates his gold hair - not the hair itself but the fact that the incident changed him in so many ways not just mentally (which he can attempt to ignore) but physically as well (which he can't). i love the mild horror of your body changing against your will (even in miniscule ways that really shouldn't bother you but they do)

☆also. unrelated to his discomfort with his hair, dream keeps his hair cut & partially covered (with nightmare’s hood.!!!) as a sign of mourning / loss as per tradition. he believes the True nightmare is dead (he isn't) & misses his brother very dearly.

☆nightmare on the other hand is. Like his skeleton counterpart, he is still made of Sludge LOL sorry. he has no skin. he exploded from the inside out. the Sludge hatched out of him like an egg. However, if i’d drawn him less stylised (i was lazy & in a rush sorry LOL) he’d be still very obviously indigenous from his facial features, even if made of non newtonian liquid. there isn't much to say about his physical appearance he’s thriving being Evil and Monstrous (which is in part why he purposely kept the name the village imposed upon him & abandoned his true name as he started leaning into it)

☆speaking of which - i believe both the twins suffer from internalised racism imparted onto them. Post-Incident, Nightmare puts so much emphasis on being refined and elegant and holds himself to such a high standard of dignity because of constantly being told he was uncivilised & “savage” & etc etc you get the point. internalised racism. this isn't even something he’s consciously doing, it’s so ingrained in him.

☆dream on the other hand wasn't outright violently discriminated against like this but was constantly dehumanised by the village as well as constantly told to “act civilised” and as mentioned already above forced to conform to the (white! european!!) culture of the village. nightmare, being fundamentally excluded from the village, still had some level of freedom. dream did not. He too suffers from the racism he’s internalised (which also intersects with the general pressure to be Perfect at all times the village put on him)

☆i’ll be so honest i don't know how to end this post. there is more i want to add which i May add later but i am so sleepy and my bed is so comfortable. i apologise for how disorganised all this is. the twins are indigenous In My Heart. you understand. thank you for reading. thumbs up emoji heart emoji.

[suzukiblu]

In "you're a real katch" I'm a bit stuck on how no one's noticed Superboy supposedly having visited Superman but having no memory of it and etc with Match impersonating him. I do feel like what's going down now should reveal that one cause this is a bit of a major thing to miss.

I'm overthinking this.

I am enjoying Match getting comfort and etc.

This clone needs therapy

This clone needs SO much therapy, hahaha.

I absolutely also overthink, lol, you are not alone, friend. So my thought process with Matching going repeatedly unclocked by Clark starts with Match only supposed to have done these visits/drop-ins a handful of times spread out OVER time, and is probably also counting times where he was passing for Kon long-term and no one found out 'til later, so it wouldn't typically be a super-regular thing with a ton of chances for Clark to notice anything weird.

Historically Match only HAS gotten clocked as "Not Actually Kon", like, MAYBE twice that I can recall--once by Tana, who got him pretty much cold, and once by Tim and Cissie when the Agenda had him start yelling about INCREDIBLY out of character for Kon shit on national television (after weeks if not MONTHS of NOT previously clocking him), and if it's happened any other times that weren't deliberate reveals I don't know about 'em. Even KON wasn't sure if Match wasn't an alternate version of him during the whole Suicide Squad thing! Hell, even MATCH wasn't, though like, obvi that was Amanda Waller's fault, but still canon! Still counts, haha!

In general Match is depicted as being REAL convincing at passing for Kon to the point that even deliberate acts of sabotage he commits in the process look like shit that people could genuinely believe Kon would do/"mistakes" that people could genuinely believe Kon would make. Plus there's also the fact that, well, you don't always talk about every time you've seen each other with someone, you know? And even when you do sometimes you just say "the last time I/you came over" or "when I saw you the other day" and "no I forget, what'd you say it was?" or "uhhhhh dude that was like a month ago, remind me?" or just things along those lines. So they weren't meant to be particularly memorable visits or anything, just like, "normal" interactions Clark would be used to having with Kon every now and then, and not necessarily involving any topics that would come across as suspicious for Kon to know/ask about.

And like, if nothing else, Clark has ALSO gotta be used to having a better memory than literally everyone he knows ( and the fact that just about everyone has a WAY worse and more easily-influenced memory than they think they do ), so I don't think he'd necessarily tweak to having to remind someone about something he might've just mentioned in passing as unusual in his life experience. Especially since all extremely dedicated human-passing efforts aside, Clark still probably doesn't have the most accurate grasp of how much a normal memory would hold onto, given how wildly those can vary from person to person and how much harder that is to objectively learn/observe than shit like, how to flinch and what struggling to lift something looks like and what temperatures should be uncomfortable/painful.

And like, final finishing move: no offense to Kon, but historically he does not have the BEST track record at always fully grasping/understanding what Clark has said to him and has misunderstood or misinterpreted him MORE than once, so if Kon ever got confused about something "they" already talked about, it would not REMOTELY be an outlier to either him or Clark, haha.

[starberry-cupcake]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lady-harrowhark !!!! ♥ ♥ ♥

This will be sent to you physically as soon as I can, because I didn't know when to stop and it became a Thing. I took a photo with the candlesticks in the mantle for both aesthetic purposes and scale. Once I decided I was gonna send it over, I kept doing things to it and ended up with this, I hope you like it!!! I want to make you another hand-made extra thing to send with it, as a treat.

I'm posting it in the recaps tag because the recaps wouldn't exist without you ♥ Thank you for teaching me how to bake apple pie, for having all the tlt facts I need, for sending me the Most Curated memes and overall for being my friend and putting up with me for So SO Long T_T You're awesome!!! I couldn't make something for you every year because it's often vacations time but, now that I can, you get an Extra one to make up for the rest.

Process pictures and some alternate versions in read-more, because you should see the versions that were peer reviewed until I landed on this one (and have a better look at the texture of the paper).

You can click on the pictures to see them better, if you must.

So, I was gonna do something shadow-related at first. I wanted to do paper cut-outs and was going over the idea of doing something with shadows and light.

And, even though drawing isn't my thing, I decided to hand draw everything anyway. Which is why I'd like to be given leeway on scale, it wasn't meant to be realistic, I can't do that. Then, I carved everything with an exacto. And decided on which thing would be cut out and what wouldn't be on the fly, so of course I almost ruin everything a bunch of times.

I was going to flip everything around to use it without the pencil guidelines and, when I saw how it turned out, I kind of liked it??? I thought using them for shadows would be a waste? I didn't expect to like them that much, paper!Harrow won my heart.

So, I went with this other idea of using tracing paper for layering. But also, I decided to use as the background some of my spider embossed black paper (that I got for the Mr Spider book I never finished). When I saw the combinations, I was conflicted, because I liked the eerie effect of the tracing paper but the details got lost. So I made three trial versions and asked around.

One had no paper, another had one and the last had one between Harrow and the rest of the stuff and another one in front of Harrow. Nobody liked the paper lol The consensus was that the spider texture looked good and the cut-outs looked nice enough to be properly seen. If you disagree, we can always put paper on top! I sure would have loved to have known this would be my final choice when gluing these pieces, so I would have chosen something more resistant for my peace of mind, but alas, it is what it is.

By this point, I knew I was going to send it over, so I went bonkers with the frame and hand painted a lot of bones with the Ninth House skull in the top of it, then gave it a varnish on top. My back is complaining now, but I think it gave it Something Extra.

ANYWAY, I didn't want to make this so long but I wanted to show the other versions, just in case!!

[haaam-guuuurl]

Little Women Famous Artists Modern AU

"The March family makes headlines once more as oldest sister Meg March takes to the red carpet for the premiere of her latest movie.

The young starlet turned heads in an understated pink lace gown, and with her handsome new husband, producer John Brooke, on her arm. Also attending was the actress' sister, Josephine March, whose most recent novel has been steadily climbing the ranks on the New York Times bestseller list. The two sisters have been seen together for a long time at premieres, award shows, and parties, and it's even rumored that the two might be working on a project together. When asked about the possibility of joining her sister on a movie set, Jo March had no comment.

But while the two sisters have talent to spare, they're certainly not alone, as the spotlight seems to run in the family. If you follow classical musical news, you'll know the name Beth March, who has been a featured pianist with the Massachusetts Symphony Orchestra for years now, and has even performed with a few other prestigious groups, including the New York Philharmonic, with talks of a permanent contract in her future.

Last but certainly not least, youngest sister Amy March has been gathering her own attention in the art world, as, fresh out of CalArts, her oil paintings have been must-gets in a few exclusive auctions around town, and the young prodigy has even teased an exhibition of her recent watercolor collection in her thriving social media accounts, though the where and with whom remain a mystery. Could the rich (and handsome) Theodore Laurence, heir to his grandfather's production company, and longtime benefactor of the arts, as well as friend of the family, be her sponsor? The two have certainly been seen together often, lately, leaving us wondering - is it an old friendship, a business partnership, or something more?

There must have been something in the water at the March household, because these sisters have been taking the world by storm, and for sure momma Margaret March is beaming with pride. We, for one, can't wait to see what these little women do next."

[booasaur]

Renegade Nell (2024) - 1x06

[forgettable-au]

How are Wingdings’ cooking skills?

They're okay, he's usually good at following the recipe

But if the instructions aren't specific enough then it will go wrong...

He finds cooking a little stressful, so he would rather not

He doesn't have time for that stuff anyway

[miksterrr]

what if when an elemental master gives birth, their powers don't just instantly go to their kid, but it slowly saps away from them until their child is old enough and strong enough to handle the full intensity of the element.

what if that's why lilly got sick? she was so utterly connected with her element, it was embedded deep into her bones, it should've taken a long time for cole to fully achieve the full element, yet because cole was meant to be one of the protectors of the green ninja, one of the most powerful elementals of creation-

it didn't take long for lilly to realize why she was getting sick, at first she thought it was the earth getting sick- that's what happened to her father after all, when the earth got sick so did he, and that's why lilly inherted her element as young as she did but as she was dying and her son was getting strong she knew it was because of him. she never blamed him- she wondered why it was cole- why it was her who got this sick- why cole got that strong-

the element erroded itself away from lilly's bones- from her very soul, until she got sick, and cole just kept on getting more and more powerful and stronger as his mom got weaker and weaker. maybe that's why lou couldn't stand to look at cole for so long- why he avoided their home- bc he knew cole was in part, responsible for lilly's death.

what if that's why libber left jay at the walkers? maybe she thought there was a way to stop him from inheriting her powers- she knows how volatile her element is, how shrieking and blinding and buzzing lightning is. it was a double edged sword, leaving her son and cliff for the sake of them- seperating their little family just so her element wouldn't pass onto her son. she scoured the world to figure out a way to keep her powers to herself- to keep it so jay wouldn't end up like her- blind and shaky and unsure.

she tried so many spells and home remedies and just about anything to protect him. but she knew all of her effort was pointless. she can't tell you when she figured it out, but one day she just felt weak and sickly and her lighting didn't feel as volatile as it used too- she knew jay- her sweet little blue jay- had inherted her powers.

it didn't occur to her until it was too late that jay should've only been about fourteen- maybe fifteen- when most of herelement was depleted. it took libber until she was nineteen- maybe twenty when she had full access to her powers.

what if that's why zane had never met the ice elemental before him? or any other? of course the previous ice elemental was old, probably nearing his death when he gave his element to zane. instead of the ice slowly sapping away like it would've for a blood relation, it was near instantaneous. the ice elemental knew this- it was a tradition for the ice elementals- one he wasn't able to pass on in note or word- the instant disappearence of his element is what brought him to his death.

he had high hopes for zane, that's why he chose him. he's heard of dr. julien through his sister, about the man who can create things out of thought alone. it mystified the ice elemental, and when he met dr. julien's son, he knew, he knew that zane was the one to bare his element, and maybe the last one too.

elements are meant to be passed on- especially the elements of creation - they're not meant for one sole body to bare for years upon years, it deteriorates them as much as it powers them. but zane was a robot- his machinery like no other- and with the core of an ice elemental- he would live on for generations without fear of erosion to his body.

and something nagged at the old ice elemental, he could blame on wu if he tried, the man's superstitions finally herding their way to his mind- but something told him that zane would be unlike the other ice elementals- that his generation of elementals would be like no other before- maybe they'd be more powerful or experience more wars than his ever did- he'll never know until he meets them in the afterlife.

what if that's why it took kai so long to control his powers- for wu to find him and nya? even though their parents went missing and pressumed dead, they were still alive. ray and maya's powers were slowly seeping away from them as they worked for krux, but that was the only way they knew their kids were still alive- the only thing to keep them sane, knowing their kids were somewhat okay while they were out there.

what if that's why it took wu so long to tell nya of her heritage? or her element? wu was so focused on the elements of creation of the formidable source of them all- that he neglected nya's element. the boundless sea- powerful and destructive in its own right. it was something he had no control over- he knew all about the elements of creation but barely anything about how nya's work- only that as beautiful and habital the ocean can be, it can be devastating and damaging as well.

despite their parents powers slowly seeping away, kai and nya are powerful just like the others, both in their own right. kai bc he harnesses an element of creation and nya bc her element knows no bounds. like the others, their powers have always been with them, even before they knew it. kai always held warmth and searing heat in his hands only tempered by shoving or punching someone, and nya always moved fluidly- their neigbhors always called nya a fish out of water - her tember knew no bounds, neither did her beauty.

what if that's why lloyd is the first person to harness his element? of course, the prophecy always said that "a ninja who would rise above all others and become the savior of ninjago." but everyone, even wu, thought it would be one of the others, someone who harnessed one of the elements of creation already- not some kid who just so happened to be the grandson of the first spinjitzu master-

in hindsight, it makes more sense than it should. lloyd has the empthay of a human child and the power of a god- the best of both worlds, some may say. his power in itself is unstable- it's hard to control unless you've been doing it your entire life.

as lloyd grew stronger, the others did too. their powers grew as their parents grew weaker, just so they'd be ready for when lloyd became of age- when it was time for him to defeat the dark lord. when lloyd skipped up a few years because of the tommorow's tea the ninja felt a rush of their power come forth- it was odd and weird and they couldn't explain why- they thought they already unlocked all of it when achieving their true potentials, but appearently not.

as much as the elements of creation is embedded into each of it's user, it's also engraved into lloyd. when he gets weak, so do their powers. as they grew and got older, it become unnoticeable, they all had gotten better control over their powers, over when and when not to use them.

lloyd isn't meant to pass down his power- not ever. it's too much for a child- a human one, at least. and if fallen into a god's soul, it would make them power-crazed. his generation may very well be the last of the elements of creation- at least to the power that they hold. he's seen scrolls that wu has written, documenting his experience with them, and how they're unlike their parents- more powerful than them- at least from when they're young.

maybe their powers aren't meant to be passed on, any of theirs.

maybe it's for selfish reasons or selfless.

maybe they'll end up becoming oxidized statues- only living on in stories, their powers extravaganted.

or maybe they'll outlive everyone.

[piko-rose]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[sysig]

Care for your sparring partner (Patreon)

Bonus:

[vv-ispy]

GOD

[bleaksqueak]

Insomnia is letting up off and on, but I'm still super jelly brained from it case in point, I want to continue back with posting WIPs for the aired pages, but I can't remember what page I left off on now lmao (guess I'll have to dig through my blog to check... eesh. at least it's decently organized by tags?) Not a result of goo brain, really, but equally "AUGH" is that I let my screen protector go for too long without replacing it and now it's slick as snot and I don't have a replacement handy to put on it. This isn't a resulting consequence of goo brain but it does mean I'm going to be trying to draw without any traction while I'm already loopy. Good times ahead!

[meximango]

Day 27 - Memory - Altani - G

Summary: Altani’s echo manifested differently than her fellow warriors of light.

Ok so this one is basically just a summary so I don’t forget an idea I’ve had for a while, lol. Just like Krile’s echo gives her fancy empathy powers, I tweaked most of my WoLs’ echoes to give them a bit of extra flavor. Luvon’s was touched on/implied a bit in ‘tempest’ this year, and Cahsi’s was in ffxivwrite2022 I believe, I can’t remember the prompt, but it’s on ao3. So it’s time for Altani! 

--

Altani first saw The Starshower in her dreams around the time she met Mogren, almost got her brother killed, and that the entire village determined she was destined to be their next priestess and medium. It was a lively few weeks for sure, everything interconnected. She wasn’t even ten summers old yet, but even so, she understood deep in her bones that it was a turning point in her life. The gate was locked behind her, and whatever had awoken inside her was there to stay. Her life from then on would be full of deceit–lies she had to tell to others, and lies she kept all for herself. 

She had no idea what her dreams meant. That they were a memory. That they would provide her an advantage on her path to greatness. The dreams were scary, and far too real, and instead of offering her comfort as she woke crying and screaming, the elders would praise her for unlocking the ability to see into death itself. They’d ruffle her hair and pat her on the back, telling her to keep training so she could convene with her ancestors and grant them wisdom. She kept up the farce for the sake of Mogren, who’d been mistaken as a spirit Altani regularly spoke to, but it was so much less and more than that. 

In Altani’s head, The Starshower was always Capitalized, because it was very Important. She didn’t know why, but it was a feeling in her tummy she refused to ignore. 

Sometimes she’d wake and remember in perfect clarity as the sky rained fire and desperate screams reverberated all around her. Never was she able to tear her gaze from the sky above, to witness who was with her, what the landscape looked like. It was just the dark red night full of smoke and embers, blazing bright trails falling toward her. It had to be stars. What else could be falling? What could cause such a thing to happen? What if the dream was an omen of things to come? What if it sucked her inside, and she became one of those falling stars, burning up before she could even hit the ground? 

Other times, Altani would wake with a sense of unease, far more tired than was reasonable, completely tangled in her sheets as sweat coated her brow, and she just Knew that she had dreamt of The Starshower. 

It would only make sense years later, after speaking with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, that she wasn’t alone. There were others who witnessed The Starshower, and it granted them special gifts. That her nightmares were actually a boon, a gift from the goddess of the star herself. But it would be many years before that point, and not even Mogren could understand her plight as a child. 

She turned it into a game, pretending The Starshower really was giving her the ability to delve into the lifestream and pluck stories and messages from long-dead tribe members. Each star that fell was just another of her ancestors coming by to say hello. They were already dead, so they couldn’t feel pain! The screams were actually high-pitched laughs. Her ancestors sure were silly, weren’t they, pulling a prank like that on her. It made lying to everyone easier, and sleeping became a little bit easier too. She was brave, and no way was The Starshower going to overpower her! The dreams became less frequent as she got older, and instead a few other types of visions manifested in her. It wasn’t often, but it did help with her priestess duties. 

Every so often, when someone talked to her–most often when reminiscing about something from their past–she’d suddenly be swept away and forced to bear witness to the moment they were talking about. It was as though she were there with them, as though she could alter reality if she just reached out and tried (she couldn’t, of course. She was an invisible entity able only to watch, but in the beginning she had wanted to find out. Thank Hydaelyn it was just a memory; to warp reality would have been too much power for a child who wished to have control over something in her life to have.) She got to witness the truth, even if the teller couldn’t remember it correctly themself or were lying for one reason or another. The downside was appearing as though she had been spaced out for a few minutes, followed by a wicked headache, but it was easy enough to write that one to the villagers as ‘divine communication’. She often used this to her advantage later, recalling the collected memories to help give merit to her own lies that she wove for the villagers about their dead loved ones and advice for their future. The best lies had a grain of truth to them, after all. Rarer, by quite a margin, were visions Altani had no idea how to explain or what they even were. It wouldn’t be until her trip to Norvrandt, well into her adventuring career, that she would begin to understand. Once in a blue moon, something would trigger her to view whoever she was looking at or speaking to in a different light. It started like a memory, with her surroundings fading out and transporting her somewhere else, but instead of seeing the person the vision was about, she saw someone else. Altani didn’t have the gift of aethersight, but she had a feeling, an instinct, that she learned to accept. The vision was about a different version of the person. Sometimes they looked very similar to nearly identical to the person in question, while other times, their race, gender, skin or fur color–everything about them was different. Except the eyes. That was the one factor that didn’t seem to change. Whatever eye color the present person who triggered the vision had, there would be at least a hint of that same color in there for the person in the vision. Even if they changed into a creature with limited eye colors! As much as she’d hoped this was perhaps the key to unlocking real medium powers so she could talk to her ancestors, it wasn’t meant to be. She never met any of her ancestors that way, as most of visions she saw weren’t of au ra, nor did they take place in the Azim Steppe. The second type of vision was far more confusing and far less useful to her, so Altani didn’t much care for them, waiting for them to pass and observing only with a passing interest, for the most part. It was strange, being privy to other versions of people she met, when those same people had no idea about or access to those alternate realities. She tried not to dwell too much on those. 

Some part of her wished she could have seen another Altani, though. Would they share her same gifts, her same curses? Would they be strong or weak, a natural crafter or a clumsy disaster? Were they a hunter, or a fisher, or a teacher? Would they become a parent, a merchant, a leader? Was their life a lie, forced to pretend they’re something they’re not to keep their village happy and their friend safe? Maybe they led a normal, mundane life, and would grow up to be nobody of import. Altani’s visions didn’t work on herself, so she’d never know what any other Altani was doing except herself. Maybe it was better that way, so she couldn’t become jealous of a life she couldn’t have. 

When she became an adventurer, met her fellow Warriors of Light, and discovered they had similar experiences with The Starshower and being forced into people’s memories, she hid her relief behind false bravado and a strong clap on the back. It was like the weight of Hydaelyn had been lifted from her shoulders, learning her affliction had such a tiny, unassuming name as the echo. That there was an entire group of people studying it, and that this thing she’d been confused and frightened about and taking advantage of for so long already was considering a blessing from the goddess Hydaelyn herself. Hear, Feel, Think, indeed.This gift was shared among a select few, and they were often destined for greatness, which was all she strived for these days. She wanted to be strong enough to protect everyone without the power to do it themselves. She knew what it felt like to be powerless and scared, and so she would ensure to keep others from those awful feelings as much as she could.

While the others shared in most of the same echo traits, none of them ever saw those other versions of people or at least made no mention of it, so Altani kept that close to her chest. Only Mogren knew about that little trait, and they’d probably forgotten about it by now, since she only mentioned it a few times when she was younger and never again. 

Luckily, she’d never had to deal with seeing other versions of her family of friends, but of course that changed when she started adventuring with those others who shared in the gift. Maybe it just triggered more easily for those who’d also seen The Starshower? 

During one of her travels with Luvon, she’d had a vision that couldn’t have been of his past, as it took place in a gigantic forest unlike anything that existed on the mainland. Small streams of unnatural, sickly white light passed through the foliage and dappled the ground. She saw a young qiqirn and an older one carving tablets together. The younger had a yellow-green glint of excitement in their eyes as they speculated about what lay in the ruins, and what their home had been like before a flood of some kind. A fear years later is when that ‘memory’ clicked into place. Her moment of breakthrough came through after she was transported to the First. When all major threats were done being taken care of with Cahsi and Luvon, she was helping the Qitari unearth their history. Among the group in Hopl's Stopple, she noticed the pair she’d seen in her vision. Huh. So the person she’d seen in that vision was not a qiqirn at all, but their equivalent on the First, a qitari. Someone from a completely different shard… She observed them from afar, not wanting to barge in with nonsensical questions, but seeing how the little qitari acted and interacted with others, she could definitely see the similarities between them and Luvon. It was incredibly strange, but she’d come to realize by now that nothing was too strange for this universe. 

Despite having fragments of the same soul, they were still their own people. She’d accepted that already with all the visions she’d seen throughout the years. Nobody acted exactly like their other version’s self, even if there were similarities. Ardbert was pretty different from Cahsi, for example. Altani could have smacked herself realizing one of her echo visions of either Cahsi or Ardbert were not about the memory of their meeting and showdown, but rather showing her that they were apparently versions of one another. That news sure might have come in handy before they had to defeat Emet-Selch–but then again, maybe not. Maybe it would have been even harder or weirder for Cahsi to let go. She’d made a close friend of the warrior in her time on the first, and had taken it hard when he had to leave. Altani had finally been able to meet him a few times before the end, thanks to some ingenious spellwork and alchemy on Cahsi’s part. It was sad that he had to rejoin Cahsi, but it was his own choice, and Ardbert had already been dead for so long, so that’s probably why he was able to do so in the first place. Altani wasn’t about to subscribe to the now-dead ascian’s idea that rejoining all shards of the soul into one was the only way to truly exist and lead a worthwhile life. From what she’d seen, other shards were doing just fine for themselves–independently! 

That said, she was pretty sure if she introduced Luvon to his qitari counterpart, that nothing would happen unless one of them were to die. Maybe. She certainly didn’t want to test that, it was a horrifying thought. They’d probably stay two separate entities, none the wiser of their status as parts of one larger, more powerful soul at one point.

Really, this was all a lot to take in and think about, and nobody she wanted to discuss it with. It gave her a headache. One day, she’d figure this out with her friends. Maybe it was selfish to keep this from them, but she’d seen the heartbreak Cahsi went through with Ardbert, and she just felt it was best at this time. They had enough worries on their plate as it was.