#and are surprised to have made it this far anyways

[cha-melodius]

23 23 23!!!!! (Hug prompt)

(This was a popular one! Also requested by @dot524 and @libbygrl, so I made it extra long. Just kidding, it got that long anyway, but we're pretending it's because of that. hug ficlet prompts; read all the hug ficlets)

23. The hug they pull you into when they’re about to kiss you.

This has been the shittiest birthday Alex can remember in a long time.

They’d been slammed all evening, like everyone in the surrounding area decided that they all had to visit the restaurant on the same day. Normally, Alex wouldn’t complain—he likes staying busy, and the buzz of a well-running kitchen is almost soothing to him. Tonight, though, the kitchen had been running far from well.

First, one of his line cooks was out sick and no one else could come in. Then, one of the new kids he’s been training accidentally upended an entire tub of prepped artichokes. Artichokes. Alex’s hands are still raw from the frantic all-hands-on-deck rush to get enough replacements cleaned. His normally extremely capable sous chef had just broken up with her girlfriend and was hanging on by a thread all night, occasionally disappearing to go cry in the walk-in. More than one sauce had been forgotten and burned on the stove. And of course there’d been your usual picky diners, people unable to be satisfied by anything, and while usually he’s pretty good at letting that stuff roll off his back, tonight Alex was seconds away from melting down and turning into one of those chefs he swore he’d never become.

He might have spent the last twenty minutes, after the last diners had finally gone and the rest of the kitchen staff have followed, collapsed in a booth with a bottle of Maker’s. He’s gonna go home, promise. He just needs to get up the energy to move.

Except—

There’s a clattering from the kitchen, and a soft, unexpectedly posh fuck audible in the dead silence of the restaurant. Alex levers himself out of the booth and pushes his way into the kitchen, following the sounds of movement to the pastry chef’s station, which is tucked away in an alcove. There, bent incongruously over a single dessert plate holding some kind of small cake, is his sommelier.

“Henry?”

Henry, who apparently did not hear Alex come in, jolts upright, his face going red like he’s been caught. Caught at what, Alex can’t begin to imagine.

“Oh, Alex,” he breathes. Then he glances down at the dessert in front of him, and his face falls. “Christ, this was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I mean, it definitely is,” Alex offers. As far as he knows, Henry doesn’t cook much. He’s got an exceptional palate, but is fairly hopeless in the kitchen, by his own accounts. And yet, no one else is here. Just Henry, and a cake. There’s a singular candle stuck into the top of it. It’s not hard to draw a conclusion, unlikely though it may seem. “Is that for me?”

“Well,” Henry says uncertainly. He sighs. “Yes, I suppose.”

Alex can’t help the smile playing on his lips as he slowly walks closer. “You suppose?”

“If it’s not any good, then it definitely wasn’t for you,” Henry hedges, but he’s smiling now too—a little, hesitant thing that makes Alex’s heart beat an erratic rhythm in his chest.

Alex stops next to the counter where the cake sits, which also happens to be right in front of Henry. He looks up into sparkling blue eyes under brows still knit together in the middle and wants to smooth out the wrinkle between them with his thumb.

Instead, he picks up the fork sitting next to the plate. “Can I try it?”

“Now hold on, the candle’s meant to be lit—” Henry tries, but Alex laughs at him and cuts a neat corner off the little square cake. It’s a rich, deep brown with a dark filling that oozes out between two layers, and when he sticks the fork in his mouth, a rich interplay of chocolate and the sweet-tart notes of port-soaked cherries bursts across his tongue.

Alex finishes his bite slowly, savoring both the flavors and the nervous fidgeting of the man standing so very close to him. He’s been more than half in love with Henry for a while now, but he could never be sure if his feelings were returned. They work so well together here. It seemed stupid to risk it.

Fuck that.

“Well?” Henry finally asks, unable to help himself, as Alex slowly sets the fork down on the plate. “You don’t have to spare my feelings if it was awful. June tried to help me with the cake recipe, but I fear I might be unteachable—oh.”

The words cut off because Alex has grabbed both of his wrists and is pulling him a step closer, even as he closes the remaining gap between them. He arranges Henry’s compliant arms around his waist, then loops his own over Henry’s shoulders, drawing him in until their bodies are pressed together and mere inches separate their faces.

“It’s incredible,” he murmurs. Yeah, the cake’s a little dry and his ganache isn’t perfect, but it doesn’t matter. Henry made it for him, for his birthday, and for that, it’s better than every Michelin-starred cake he’s ever eaten. “Thank you, H. It means a lot.”

“You deserve it,” Henry murmurs back. His eyes keep flitting down to Alex’s lips, and Alex’s smile grows.

“You know what I really want, though?”

“What?” Henry asks breathlessly as his arms tighten around Alex’s waist. The tips of their noses bump together.

“This,” Alex says, and kisses him.

Clearly, Henry’s been sampling as he constructed the dessert, because he tastes like chocolate and port-soaked cherries, and Alex can’t get enough. Henry kisses him like he’s been aching for it just as long as Alex has, holding onto him like he’s never going to let go, and frankly, Alex isn’t going anywhere.

Maybe this wasn’t such a shitty birthday, after all.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Waywren Truesong behind the cut; "interdimensional whoring for Timkon". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Was it as good as you thought it’d be, sweetheart?” he asks gently, giving the back of Kon’s hair the lightest little tug, and Kon clutches at the hanging edges of his other’s self’s cape and tries to kiss him harder past a stuttered moan. His kissing is still all clumsy and messy and out of sync, and Tim isn’t above taking the opportunity to admire him so easily sunk into that state as the rare and pretty sight that he’s always considered it to be. 

“Kon,” his other self mumbles between their mouths; between kisses. “Was it?” 

“Y’re b’tter,” Kon mumbles back, sounding drunk or concussed or maybe just both at once. His other’s self’s grip on his face tightens, just barely, and Kon shudders harder under pressure that couldn’t feel like actual “pressure” to him if he wanted it to. “B’tter. B’tter. Pl’se–pl’se jus’–” 

Tim’s other self kisses him again, long and lasting, and Kon whimpers and whimpers and whimpers into it, and shudders and trembles under it, and then comes right in his suit for it all over again with a desperate choking sound that might’ve been supposed to be a word. 

Or a name, maybe. 

Normally Tim would think it was possible that Kon might’ve been touching himself with his TTK to get himself off just then, just like he’d momentarily wondered if he’d been doing before. His own Kon doesn’t have any shame or hesitation about doing that kind of thing–though admittedly this apparently is, again, the sexually-repressed alternate reality–and also has super-sensitivity on top of that. At least when he’s paying enough attention to his sense of touch to focus it the same way he can focus his other senses, anyway. Kon probably has a more sensitive sense of touch than any other Kryptonian, in fact, given the nature of tactile telekinesis and also the amount of touch-deprivation his body went through in development. 

But in this case, even if it’d been his own Kon who’d been down on his knees getting the kiss he’d earned by gettting come all over his S-shield while drooling all over a mouthful of cock, Tim already knows the other wouldn’t have needed to touch himself at all. 

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he sighs appreciatively, twining a few of Kon’s curls around his fingers. His other self leans back from the kiss, and Kon makes the exact same disappointed whine he’d made when Tim had taken his cock out of his mouth. 

Goddamn adorable. 

“Hell,” Tim’s other self says roughly, letting out a sharp exhalation without taking his hands away from Kon’s face; half-reflexively wiping away the spit around his mouth and chin with the heels of his gloves. Tim pets Kon’s hair again. Kon’s face is still upturned in his other self’s hands as his other self cleans it up, and there’s a look on it that his own Kon definitely, definitely takes longer to give up. 

Well, his own Kon’s much more experienced with this situation, so no surprise, Tim figures. 

“Told you he’s the sweetest to kiss after he’s had his mouth fucked,” he hums, and his other self shoots him a dirty look. Tim smiles back at him blithely. “You’re welcome, on that note.” 

“Drop-kick you through that fucking portal,” his other self mutters sourly. Kon’s still just staring up at him with a dazed, dreamy look on his face. Tim pets his hair a little softer at the sight of it. 

“Good boy,” he murmurs quietly to him. Putting Kon down that far that fast definitely means it’s time to take a break and do a full check-in. “Come on, Kon needs some attention. That doesn’t involve our dick, I mean.” 

“What?” His other self blinks at him, confusion flashing across his face. The sexually-repressed reality needs to work on its kink education, clearly. 

Well, not like that’s really a surprise. 

“We just dropped him through the floor with basically no lead-up and then made him come in his suit multiple times before coming on his shield,” Tim says. “He definitely needs some attention that doesn’t involve our dicks.” 

“I–what do you mean ‘dropped’?” his other self says with a frown, glancing down at Kon in concern. Kon leans right into his hands again, still wearing the same dreamy daze of an expression. “. . . Kon?” 

“Uh-huh,” Kon breathes, sounding even more dreamy and dazed than he looks, and then just tips straight forward and buries his face against the other’s hip, wrapping his arms around his thighs as he just nuzzles into and melts against him. Tim gives his scalp a light scritch or two and earns a low, carrying purr for it. His other self . . . blinks, and then glances up at Tim, his eyes narrowing warily behind his mask. 

“What did you do?” he asks, voice flat and expression edged with suspicion. 

“If you seriously think I managed to drug a half-Kryptonian with my dick, I’m flattered,” Tim replies wryly. His other self glowers at him. “Relax. It’s normal. I did mention your best friend having some submissive tendencies in the bedroom, didn’t I?” 

“You said ‘tendencies’,” his other self says, his eyes narrowing a little more. 

“Yeah, I more meant ‘desperate burning need to feel like he’s good enough for once in his life, especially if it makes someone proud of him’,” Tim says, stroking Kon’s hair a little more gently. “But to be honest, I kind of assumed that was obvious enough that I wouldn’t need to spell it out to you?” 

“He doesn’t need to prove he’s good enough to me,” his other self retorts accusingly, gripping the back of Kon’s neck as he glowers at Tim. Kon goes even meltier against him and lets out a breathy little sigh of a sound that makes the other’s face flush. Tim understands the reaction, for obvious reasons. Like, both the accusation and the flush, he means. 

“We know that, and he knows that,” he agrees, wondering if he’s got a basic kink primer anywhere in his files that he can leave with his other self, since he doesn’t really want to recommend any titles that might’ve been written differently in this reality. Or possibly, like, any titles that were written in this reality at all, given his suspicions about the whole sexual repression thing. It just seems like it might be a good idea, is all. “Doesn’t mean that half-Kryptonian cock doesn’t go full manhood-of-steel for hearing ‘good boy’.” 

“You are such an asshole,” his other self seethes.

[sillygoofyqueer]

According to The thought experiment: What would happen if humans grew wings? from BBC Science Focus Magazine, humans would have very large chests if they had wings since wings are dependant on the pectoral muscles and our chests as they are simply wouldn't be enough to support them, the images showed humans with wings for arms rather than wings on their backs like we usually think of for Crowyuan but I'm assuming it would have the same effect. Assuming Crowyuan looks like a feathery human like the fanart you've received of him, do you think he would have this? Or would PIDW logic tone it down to just having a large chest in a Mobei-Jun way? Do you think that crow demons would simply be far better equipped to handle wings despite looking mostly human because Airplane Wrote It? Or would the system put more of our world's logic into place to fill in plot holes? I'd be surprised if Bingge didn't have a crow demon wife mixed somewhere in the harem, what if Airplane read that wings are dependant on pectoral muscles and ran with it to give her massive boobs?

Firstly, I showed this to my non-danmei reading friend and two quotes I'd like to share from her are "why are your followers doing scientific research into this?" (Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?) and pronouncing 'Bingge' as 'binge' which just made me cackle for at least a minute after I realised who she was talking about.

Anyway, onto actually answering this bad boy!!!

Okay so, first, there is a (possible) variation of Crowyuan that would have wings for arms which is Harpy-Crowyuan, but just in general I really really love the idea of Crowyuan having quite a large chest in order to accommodate his wings, and I like to think that it stems from an angry rant Shen Yuan had in Airplane's comments after a chapter introducing the crow demons. Airplane actually responded being like ".....soooo.... they've all got huge boobs?" (<- freak for that shit <3) - this led to another angry rampage, but Airplane was already gone with the wind.

Unlike Mobei Jun's chest, which I do believe have a bit of give considering that Airplane thinks about *clears throat* burying his face into them and *clears throat louder* squish them, Crowyuan's chest would be ALL muscle. There's not a single bit of squish to those fuckers, they are (for lack of better phrasing) rock hard. He wears baggier robes (not too baggy, he's still a scholar 😌) not to hide them but to accommodate for them as well as his wings (he just has two huge slits in the back of all of his robes which I think is so silly).

Crowyuan is well aware of why his chest is big but he also specifically remembers Airplane's comment when he talked about it furiously in one of his comments and is often muttering to himself like "I cannot believe this is what he did with scientific information" when trying to dress himself with clothes that have not been tailored for his HUGE TI- pecs. His. Pecs.

[abelsarchives]

‘ If that ain’t the truth—and yet they made a banger out of 16 and Pregnant. They’ve been flashing their tits far too young. God, keep away that temptation from my daughter. Not that she’ll be able to date unless she’s twenty-one anyway.

Yeah, I haven’t taken the tube in quite a long time, and my Target runs are almost always around 10 PM. Under an alias, I have people screaming Pablo at me. Wait − I’m definitely big on Indian food, and I recall having the best one in London, so I’ll definitely keep that in mind. I love trains—one of my biggest travel dreams is to hop onto the Orient Express. I feel like I could stay there for days, but I understand that being stuck for 8 hours doesn’t sound ideal, so I’d probably refrain unless it’s the Eurostar.

Exactly what I said, I give them two more years until she gets bored. Ah, well, it doesn’t come as a surprise. You’re grateful and classy, probably a bit of soft and fierce—you might have a kind or nurturing personality but are still competitive when it matters. I always go with Waluigi. I’m a troll/​trickster. My babies are a Doberman and a Cane Corso. Yours? ’

hah, much more puritanical. americans see some titty, and it's a wrap. it's so strange to me. for the land of the free, you lot really are uptight about nudity. you're probably too famous for it, but i love just hopping on the tube and exploring london when i'm in town. i don't live there anymore, but you find so many gems outside of the most touristy places. if you venture into Croydon, that's where you find the best indian food in the city for instance. however, i can't recommend traveling via train in the UK. our service is horrible. once, it took me eight bloody hours to get to manchester from london when my train broke down twice, so save yourself. i would recommend doing a road trip in the summer though, you'd love that.

i mean, you can't be the favourite wife if you're the only wife. she's discovering that being married to a mean, selfish narcissist is no fun when there's no one else he can blame for all of his troubles.

i'm always princess peach, but seeing how often i lose, i should probably shake it up a little. what does that say about me, then? i love those names. what breeds are your babies?

[scribblue]

@acksolotel618 Got inspired by this post and ended up using it as a writing prompt for a short scene with Zane and Garmadon!!

You can read it on Ao3 here , or after the cut

❆ A Lesson In Humanity ❆

Zane speaks to Garmadon about their shared history of being manipulated emperors.

{ 940 words, no major warnings }

"I was once like you."

The words landed heavily on Garmadon's shoulders, yet with further consideration he refused to believe they carried any real weight. Merely a vapid placation, or worse, outright mocking. He furrowed his brow. "You couldn't possibly understand me, metal man."

Zane stared back evenly. His eye contact was unwavering, unnatural. It felt as though he could see through Garmadon's very chemical makeup, and was intent on dissecting him down to his barest components like a hunk of biological technology. The nindroid stood on the catwalk connecting their underground base of operations to the elevator up to the monastery. The rest of the ninja had left to take a break, following a particularly intense—and unsuccessful— training session between Lloyd and Garmadon. Garmadon had to admit his surprise, if only internally, at the company he now found himself forcibly entertaining; Zane had never made an effort to speak to him one-on-one, and the cold shoulder was reciprocated.

"You are free to believe that, if a sense of individuality brings you comfort,” Zane said. “However, it is an inaccurate assessment."

Garmadon rolled his eyes. "Thank you for reminding me why we never spoke. You may leave now,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss him. 

Zane remained. An unsurprising development, and an aggravating one. "Do you not wish to know of our similarities?”

A frown crossed Garmadon’s face, and curiosity clouded his thoughts. He was quick to disperse it with a shake of his head; Zane was clearly trying to get under his skin, force his guard down so that he would ease up on Lloyd. It would never work. Mastering Oni form took an iron fist, not a distracted mind. He turned away and clasped both sets of hands behind his back, pretending to focus on the computers for a long moment.

Not long enough, evidently, as Zane made his continued presence known. “I am going to tell you anyway.”

“Great,” Garmadon muttered.

“When I was trapped in the Never Realm, I was manipulated into becoming the Ice Emperor: a cold and ruthless entity who spared no one in his quest for retaining power. My true self was hidden from me for sixty years, until Lloyd helped me restore it,” Zane said, a waver of emotion in his robotic voice. “It has been some time since it happened, yet I still feel the effects of this event to this day.”

“Hmm.” Garmadon pressed a couple buttons on the keyboard in an attempt to make his distraction look convincing. “I fail to see how that relates to me.”

He heard Zane take a small step forward. “When you became Emperor of Ninjago, that emperorship was predicated on lies and manipulation by Harumi. She encouraged you to reject your humanity, just as my advisor Vex did to me. And I am willing to bet you have also suffered lasting effects.”

Garmadon scoffed. “Please,” he said, turning a tight-lipped scowl towards Zane. “I am an oni, I never had humanity to reject…that is, until Vinny of NGTV news took me under his council. And even so, such humanity would not benefit me here. Lloyd needs to learn to release his oni form, and I can assure you I am in the perfect condition to do so—no ‘lasting effects’ as you say.”

“Perhaps that is true. Or perhaps you only wish it to be.” Zane’s pointed stare finally wavered, drifting to some far-off corner of the room. “I have spent much of my own spare time wrestling with the reality of my situation, versus what I wish to believe… It is difficult to grapple with the truth that I have hurt innocent people while under another’s influence. It sometimes holds me back from being the best version of myself that I can be, for fear of hurting others again.”

That did sound familiar, not that Garmadon was willing to admit it out loud. He was often plagued with memories of his short-lived reign over Ninjago, and the atrocities committed under his hand. He was loath to say he regretted any of them, in fact he wasn’t sure he was even capable of regret– nonetheless, the flashbacks were bothersome, and the more he attempted to embody “goodness”, the more frequent they became. “So…what? You believe I am compromised in some way? I can assure you I’m not.”

“I believe you have begun the process of betterment, without addressing the root of the issue.”

“...And what might that be?”

“Your relationship with Lloyd. You hurt Lloyd during your time as Emperor. Now, your beliefs and goals are changing, but you have not mended the rift that has grown between the two of you, or attempted to grapple with the effects your actions have on both yourself and others… you cannot expect to find success in the present, until you face your past,” Zane said. His even tone and matter-of-fact delivery did nothing to lessen the blow of his words. “You may not believe it, but Lloyd is your humanity. As he was mine, when I needed it most. Do not forget that he needs you too.”

Something twinged in Garmadon’s chest. He had half a mind to blame it on his incomplete resurrection, and perhaps that truly was the case; complicated emotions could simply be a byproduct of his botched vessel. He averted his gaze and said nothing. 

Zane didn’t attempt to break the silence, either. He lingered for just a moment longer, before turning heel and wordlessly leaving the room, where Garmadon remained alone with his thoughts. 

“…I won’t,” he said, knowing there was nobody there to hear him.

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

It was awful for Eddie.

He’d always known he was a little different from everybody else. At least from everybody else in this stupid town. But to the small, enthusiast, kindergarten version of you, that was fantastic. You somehow endured his never-ending energy, and your imagination was able to stretch as much as his: to the infinite. His games weren’t complicated: to you, they were the most entertaining thing ever. He’s never known someone who understood him quite like you did. Ever. He had someone who could see the world the way he did.

And then everything came crushing down. Suddenly, he wasn’t going on quests to stay away from a house that was falling down, but to try and find it again. Surely, if he was the bravest knight in the land, his father would have to come back, right? And, after slaying dragons, finding a cure for his mother’s absence couldn’t be that hard.

Except it was.

He had moved into a moldy trailer, on the far side of town, with an uncle that didn’t quite know what to do with him. At least he was trying, which was more than he could say about his father.

But he couldn’t let you, Queen of Wonders, see the fall of Eddie the Great. Your eyes were the only place where he was still someone; not a chore, a regrettable past or a problem to solve. You looked at him and saw just him.

But it was harder and harder to be the same person he had always been when he wasn’t that Eddie anymore. He had to take a break. Sometimes he couldn’t stop crying on time to walk to your house. It was okay, you wouldn’t get mad if he didn’t show up once. His smile grew heavier and heavier, and to wear it was an effort he didn’t always have the energy to accomplish.

He gave up. Eddie figured he’d be forever frozen in your mind, in a time when things weren’t actually good, but less bad than this. You’d loved that version of him even more than he did; you had a right to keep him. He told himself you’d take care of him, maintain him alive. Eddie hoped so, because he couldn’t.

He had made a habit of running away. It was easier. Better. So he hid from you in the hallways, ignored your pleading looks (hardest thing he’d ever had to do) and tried to build a life without you.

He failed.

Miserably.

Yeah, he got new friends. His relationship with Wayne improved, they worked as a team now. His band started sounding actually good, and he found enough people to start his very own D&D club.

And it was all pointless because he didn’t have his old friend. You weren’t there to listen to his music or fix his lyrics, and you and your beautiful mind weren’t giving him show-stopping characters to use in his campaigns.

Instead, you had friends of your own- he wasn’t on that list-, who shared your table with you at lunch. You didn’t talk to him anymore- which he couldn’t blame you for: it had been years, and not everyone could be a yearning idiot like he was- or even look at him that much.

To no one’s surprise, really. Certainly not his. You were always incredibly easygoing. Empathetic, funny, honest. Smart. There probably wasn’t a single soul in Hawkins that could say they didn’t like you. It also helped that you were insanely pretty. The margins of his notebooks could attest to that, full of doodles of your eyes and profile.

So what if he wanted to have your attention a little too much? Yeah, maybe he couldn’t go back- not being the mess he was. That didn’t stop him from wanting. You didn’t have to find out how bitter he had become. How cynical, what a coward he was. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to put up an act.

So he took the liberty of crafting this character for you. A misfit who gave grand speeches to highschoolers, who didn’t care about his place in the food chain. Someone who wasn’t invited to parties but was welcome anyway. The town’s Freak. He had made a name for himself and everything. He hoped you were proud. He hoped little Eddie, back in kindergarten, would have been proud if he saw him now.

Also, he enjoyed it way too much. The chance of being this person. The curated version of himself was way more interesting than the one inside his head, that’s for sure.

You’d always been one to enjoy being on the other side. You loved reading novels and watching movies, and listening to his stories. You always had time to analyze all the references and details.

That’s why he panicked when he saw your name in the list of Hellfire.

You weren’t supposed to be there. You were supposed to watch him yell in the cafeteria, the most perfect and distant audience. To walk past him, to know he was there without looking too closely or interacting. He was a good actor, amazing, even, but an actor still. And if you got too close, you’d see the cracks. The truth festering inside him, the rotten corpse of the person he had been- the person he should be.

The only solution was for him to make sure you wouldn’t get too close. He had distanced himself once, he could do it again.

It was easier, actually.

He just had to show you how life had been without you. Eddie was going to meet you all over again, except this time you were being introduced to the character.

Hii!! I'm so happy to finally be able to post this! I love the change in povs, and I think it'll help me learn how to write more complex texts. I hope you guys like it.

On a side note, it's my birthday today! I'll celebrate with my friends, so I probably won't be here much, but I programmed this post so you wouldn't have to wait any longer <3

Masterlist

Taglist: @am0iur , @arabellagreenleaf , @stylesxmunson , @exploding-bonbon , @ainelantv

[home-sweet-hive]

ALTERNATE HUMANITY

A Field Guide to "Humanity Removal Therapy"

Part 2: Facade (ft. @dawning-mars )

This is a complimentary series to this system's other Animal HRT series; Black Arms HRT

Letter from your "Penpal":

Hey, very sorry about this part taking a while to come out. It's one thing for a comic to take a while, but I feel a little pathetic that it took me over a month to write this part out. Yeah yeah, "self deprecation isn't gonna get you anywhere", I know. Let me do things wrong sometimes. But hey, I did get it complete in time for the big Dragon HRT send off, so that's something I guess. Aik did a lot of being poetic and stuff yesterday with his Fish HRT fanart, I don't wanna bore you by doing the same. (Not like I have anything of the sort to say, anyways.)

Let's get on with the show. Thanks for reading and making the community what it is or whatever, I like writing about y'all.

WARNING: This part still has the Swearing, Mentions of Death, and the Untrustworthy Narrator/Main Character from last time, but also there are now Mentions of Cults and Violent Threats. Also just a general horror vibe, especially towards the end. Reader Beware.

Prev | Next (COMING SOON. HOPEFULLY.)

8:00am, February 9th, 2025

The following is an audio recording from Doctor Theodore H. Erian, transcripted into text;

“Eight in the morning, February the 9th. … Is that necessary? I’ll admit, I’ve never done something like this. I’ve had some patients of mine send in audio tapes for their transition journals before, for one reason or another, sure, but I’ve never made one myself. I… I just want to be vigilant.”

“That journal that I read a week ago… It still haunts me a little. I know, I know, I contort human bodies into resembling animals for a living, and a simple PDF sent to me via email is what keeps me up at night.”

“But in the days that have passed since I conversed with Doctor Fortune, I’ve been rereading those journal entries in between working with patients. I’ve been picking up on… Details. Unsettling details. The one that gets at me the worst is when the author mentions how the technology behind Animal HRT would ‘go to a much more important use’ if in their hands… Just what do they even mean by that? Furthermore, the author seems to work for a news station, but their descriptions in certain places throughout their entries suggests their workplace has responsibilities far beyond the scope of such a profession. They also seem rather close with and even have some authority over a pair of researchers from a laboratory, as if the two businesses are subsidiaries of another organization. The greater organization both the station and laboratory are under is probably the one Doctor Fortune mentioned in her emails, come to think of it.”

“But back to the point. The reason why I’m recording myself right now. The day that the journal suggested its author would come for me has arrived, and I indeed have several appointments on my schedule today. One of them being for a L. Black. I… feel like it’d be a breach of privacy to give their full name in this recording. But that patient does have the same first initial as the author of the journal, which is arguably the most important detail. I do have the full first name now, mind you, though I’m sure you’re not surprised to hear that the name was generic enough for me to get flooded with results from all sorts of different dimensions when I tried to look them up. In the end, I wasn’t able to get much information on them.” 

“The surname suggests a possible connection to the Black Arms, at least in my opinion. Soon before Doctor Fortune had approached me, I had been given a ‘notice of investigation’ by the Guardian Units of Nations. They’re trying to deter me from ever making or distributing an HRT for the Black Arms, and it honestly does seem similar to what Doctor Fortune is doing. In fact, I did try asking her a few days ago if she was affiliated with G.U.N.”

“She seemed rather offended by the question, chastising me for ‘comparing this situation to a video game plot’... Can she blame me? I work in and for a land between dimensions, for fucks sake…”

“But aside from that, I suppose all I can do now is… wait. Wait and see what Mr. Black does. What they… want.”

--

9:20am, February 9th, 2025

>Real time transcription from audio recording.

>Any typos or mistakes made are either L████’s or another ████████████████████████████████’s responsibility to detect and correct.

>Reminder: I am not a grammar checker, and my knowledge unfortunately relies on what is given to me.

[sound description: door opening, followed by a bell ringing, and the door then closing]

“Welcome to the TOHC Primary Care Center. Let me guess, you’re here for Doctor Erian?”

“Yep. I have an appointment.” 

“Do you now? Heh, most just waltz in here without so much as a 15 minute notice call…” “What’s your name?”

“L████ ████.’

“Thank you.”

[sound description: Tapping of keyboard keys]

“I see. You do indeed have an appointment with Doctor Erian, but you’re quite early, don’t you think?” 

“Am I now?”

“Yes. Your appointment is at noon. Did you mean to schedule it earlier in the day or…?”

“Noon is fine.”

“Good, ‘cause you wouldn’t be able to reschedule your appointment unless you changed the day outright.”

“Tch. Of course not.”

“You can go sit down in the waiting area now.”

--

9:30-10:30am, February 9th, 2025

Removed the recording of this section of time and the subsequent transcript made for it. Nothing of importance really occurred during this time, just people coming in and out of the building without much coming from that. Keeping it around was just unnecessary in my opinion.

--

10:40am, February 9th, 2025

Okay, here’s where things get interesting again~

[sound description: door opening, followed by a bell ringing, and the door then closing]

[sound description: distant talking, sound too far for accurate transcription]

[sound description: someone sitting down in a chair nearby]

“Oh, hello.”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t notice you there, hun!”

“Don’t sweat it, I don’t mind having someone to talk to while I wait.”

“Ah, alright…” “So… What is it that you’re waiting for?”

“I have an appointment with Doctor Erian at noon.”

“Really? I have an appointment with him too!”

“Heh. Doesn’t sound much like ‘waltzing in here with no notice’ to me.”

“Huh?”

“Oh right, sorry. When I got here the receptionist made a remark about most people treating the place like a walk-in and I found it funny how you’re proving her wrong.” “But it didn’t quite click in time that you wouldn’t have been able to know that context.”

“I see!” “That’s… comforting? Maybe?”

“Hmm?”

“It seems like Erian isn’t the only one around here that’s got a sharp tongue…”

“Is he… known for being harsh?” 

“From what I’ve heard, yeah…”

“That explains some things, then.”

“But anyways, what kind of Animal HRT are you hoping to get on?” 

“Oh, I’m not here to get myself a prescription.” “My friend tried to get on Cat HRT through him but was denied. I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh…”

“... Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I-”

“No, you’re fine, hun.” 

“... If you insist.” “Can I assume you ARE looking to get a prescription, then?”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask for what?”

“A-ah, well… I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“No judgement from me, you’re in crazed company.”

“... I want to go on Eldritch HRT.” 

“Eldritch?”

“Y-Yeah. That’s… That’s what I want!”

“How interesting! Do you have a specific entity you want to be like? A cult you want to curate or join? Just how many so-called ‘eldritch entities’ across the realms are you aware of? Are… Are you-”

“I… Haven’t given it all that much thought, to be honest…”

“That’s fine! That just means you’re up for anything, right?” 

“U-Uhm… I guess so?” “You seem… really excited by all this. Are you a fan of eldritch horror too?”

“I guess you could say that~” “Oh-! Where have my manners been? I don’t think I got your name!”

“Did I not give it? Sorry about that, hun!” “Mars ████.”

“Nice to meet you, Mars! My name’s L████. L████ ████.”

“Nice to meet you too, L████!” 

“But back to the Eldritch HRT thing of yours – how many entities are you aware of?”

“Well, I do know a good bit of the writings of HP Lovecraft…”

“Is that it?”

“Is there more I should know?”

“Yes! But that’s alright, I can teach you everything you need to know. Let me just-”

“Mars?”

“That’s me!”

“Shit, is it time for your appointment already? Well maybe we can keep talking after you-”

[sound description: Mars walks off with Doctor Erian to his office]

–

She didn’t come back to talk to me after her appointment. It seemed that she was pretty upset as she left the building. Did she get rejected too? 

I hope to meet up with Mars again soon. 

I sensed some hesitation in her voice as we talked, but I just know she’d be a perfect fit for us once she learns about us and what we are.

But anyways, nothing of interest occurred in the hour after my conversation with Mars, so I deleted that section of recording as well.

Which takes us right to my meeting with Doctor Erian. 

What a mess that was…

--

12:00pm, February 9th, 2025

The following is a written recounting by Doctor Theodore H. Erian.

I had originally intended to audio record my meeting with Mr. Black, just like the recording I had made this morning.

However, the moment I saw him, I knew that I would have to get on his level, so to speak. Audio wasn’t going to cut it when it came to conveying the full picture of my experience. 

So here we are.

As I mentioned in my emails to Doctor Fortune, I had gotten many, many results when I looked his name up, but despite all that, he managed to look nothing like any of them in person.

I could sense I was being deceived, or perhaps even toyed with in some way. But I wasn’t sure in what way it was.

After having noticed that, I then took notice of a rather large bag they had slung around their shoulders. Looked to be a laptop bag, by my best guess. I of course remembered what Doctor Fortune had said to me about not allowing him to show me anything on his laptop if they offer, and so I readied myself to refuse anything of that sort.

But to my surprise, he didn’t even do so much as open the bag. 

Instead, when he entered my office, he just… stood there, looking around at the place. This went on for about a minute or two – I wasn’t keeping exact notice of the time.

At first, I had thought that they were eyeing the various types of medication I had stored. But once he opened his mouth, it became apparent that it was something else entirely that had caught their eye…

“Is that an RCA RP3503 shoebox cassette recorder and player you have back there?” 

My recorder, the one I had used to record my personal record from this morning, the one that I had intended to use to document this meeting… That had been what he noticed first.

It's a bit impressive that they identified the exact model, I must admit. Didn’t help with how much they intimidated me in the slightest, though.

“... Yes? Why do you ask?” 

I had responded. I didn’t want to come off as suspicious to him, but rather, just genuinely interested in the conversation. I couldn’t let them know I had seen their journal.

“It’s not often I see a cassette player in the wild these days. Damn shame, I know that phones and mp3 players are more modern and in ways more convenient, and the typical ‘retro throwback’ audio playing format of choice is vinyl, but I really do have such a soft spot for cassettes.”

Really, I was surprised with just how normal this starting conversation was. If I was to be conspiratory, I could even say that it was too normal, as if he was luring me into some sort of false sense of security with this mundane discussion.

“Do you now?”

I replied, allowing the conversation to carry on.

“Yes! Though, I’d rather not get too sidetracked with all that!”

I remember it felt like a pit had dropped into my stomach when they said that. Here I was thinking I could give myself some time to formulate how I was going to respond to him trying to get answers out of me by fueling this clear interest of his. But it seems that they had caught on to that plan of mine.

“The real reason I pointed it out was to ask… You’re not going to use it to record this meeting of ours… are you?” 

He then asked me.

I wish I had been able to somehow record this meeting on video, because I don’t know if words alone can describe the bone chilling aura that the look Mr. Black had given me as they said those words carried. Somehow, his face managed to darken in real time, a shadow cast over the top half of it that made it look as if his eyes were glowing at that very moment. They had tilted their head ever so slightly as they spoke, their face adorned with a subtle, yet noticeable grin, despite the seeming worry that the question carried with it. 

Considering my line of work, I’m quite familiar with the inhuman, and let me tell you – I saw that inhumanness in this man in that fleeting moment.

Despite wearing what looked to be colored contacts of some kind, I could see in his eyes a wildness that was inherently animalistic. 

I know what Mr. Black is here for, and I know it isn’t treatment. But if I hadn’t known better, I may just have been convinced to hand him a prescription right then and there.

Or maybe he is already something other than human. 

I said no, of course not.

“Good, good.”

I don’t know what came over me, but I responded to that remark by asking him if he didn’t like his life being documented. 

“What an odd question…”

As if I hadn’t already regretted my words the moment they came out of my mouth, I certainly would have after that reaction from him.

I was like Icarus in that moment, my wings equipped as I set myself straight towards the sun. I had pushed my luck too far, and they were catching on that I knew more than I should. Surely.

“But to answer it, I do actually like to document my life. But I much prefer it when I’m the one doing the documentation. I’m sure you wouldn’t be too fond of me if I took your chair right there and started giving people prescriptions and check ups, would you?” 

I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure what they meant by that comparison. He’s a news reporter, isn’t he? I do suppose in a way that is documenting lives, but that’s much more about others’ lives rather than their own, no? 

Either way, I shook my head no.

“That’s what I thought.” 

I really can’t tell why he was so surprised that “B” kiddo and Serena were intimidated by him. He has to be doing this shit on purpose to get a rise out of people.

“Can we get to the point of this meeting, please?” 

I requested. Maybe if I act just as intimidating, I’ll manage to evade ending up in whatever position he wants me to be in.

“Hmph. We may.”

He seemed unimpressed by my shift in attitude, his grin folding into something of a snarl. But he did oblige. 

“It is to my knowledge that a friend of mine, Serena Holmes, came by your office a little bit under a month ago seeking a Cat HRT prescription from you. You rejected her. Why so?”

Perhaps it was the frown they already had from their reaction to me making demands at him, but I could both see and hear the anger coming off of him that I had seen before in that journal of his as they spoke. 

No matter his motives, it does seem he cares about their friend.

“I had gotten a questionable result when I had run a-”

I answered. I knew it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but I couldn’t let them know I knew that.

As expected, they cut me off mid-sentence.

“No. I want the real reason.” 

Despite my patience being worn quite thin by this point, I took a deep breath in and began to formulate a response to Mr. Black. 

My goal, at least at first, had not been to actually tell him the truth. Rather, it was to make up a lie that was believable enough for them to take it as if it was the truth. 

As I did such, they spoke again, unknowingly giving me a hint as to what route I could go down with this lie of mine. 

“And if you are telling the truth, what was the ‘questionable result' you speak of?” 

Looking back, I should have made use of that hint in my response.

“Okay, fine! You want the real reason? I’ll give you the real reason! I turned Serena away because it was clear to me that she didn’t truly know what it was that she wanted!” 

He had raised an eyebrow at my response, clearly skeptical.

“How… interesting. She seemed pretty dead set on being a cat to me.” 

I honestly couldn’t tell if they believed me or not, but they did act as if they did.

“But I suppose my perspective was skewed.”

In a way, that did give me relief. 

Even if it was a ruse on his end, I could also go along with it and feel confident in my responses, at least for a little while.

“But tell me, Doctor Erian… If that is the true reason you turned Serena away… Then why did you tell her it was due to a background check?”

It was a valid question, honestly, and a hole in the plot I was constructing. Hence why I had said earlier that I wished I had just gone down that background check route he had given me.

“I… I didn’t want her to believe I did not believe she was truly therian.” 

With a bit of hesitation, I sputtered out that excuse.

He wasn’t buying it. I could tell by the glare he had given me.

“Then why not be honest with her? You could have explained that they had simply seemed too unsure of kitself to go through with the procedure. You could have given it advice as to how to do some soul searching so that she could come to find her true self. All these things you didn’t do… Why is that, Doctor Erian?”

Their eyes almost seemed to lock onto me as they questioned me. I was a target for them, lined up for slaughter.

Before I could even try to plead my case, he continued.

“To me, there are only two explanations for this. Either you are bad at your job, or…

You’re lying to me.”

With that final explanation – or rather, accusation, he stood up from where I had him sit and slammed his hands on my desk. To be honest, it shook me quite badly. It wasn’t just the delivery, either, the words cut terribly deep as well.

“So, which is it?”

Deep enough to cause me to make perhaps the stupidest decision I’ve ever made in my entire life.

For I had let my ego and reputation get the best of me.

“... I lied to you.” 

I so stupidly confessed. 

Mr. Black grinned, grinning wider than he ever had by that point of the appointment, as he let out a truly evil cackle.

“I knew it.” 

And with that remark, they pushed aside the chair that was behind them, and walked over to behind my desk.

I yelled out to him that he’s not supposed to be back there, but he completely ignored me as he rummaged through my personal cabinets.

They quickly found exactly what I was hoping they wouldn’t. 

“How curious…!” 

He exclaimed, holding the note Doctor Fortune had given me during my first ever encounter with her in his hands.

I felt like I could have died right then and there.

“Looks to me you know a bit too much for your own good, eh, Erian?” 

He then turned to me, a sinister grin still stretched wide across their face while they held up the note, turned over to the backside where she had drawn that blasted symbol.

I wanted to say something at the time, I really did. But I must admit, I was petrified. It really is embarrassing to look back on. 

“Hmmm… one could argue that I should kill you right about now, make sure you don’t go spreading the good word unmanaged.”

They continued to speak as they crept up behind me.

“I don’t even know what that symbol IS!! All she told me was that it was the symbol of your organization!! She didn’t even tell me what it’s called!!” 

I cried out in desperation. As most people do, I didn’t want to die.

Mr. Black paused. His face softened, somewhat. 

He seemed to have realized that I, for once, was being honest with him.

“Who’s ‘she’?” 

He asked me quite plainly.

“D-Doctor Mirai Fortune… She had come into my office a couple months ago and left this warning for me… We’ve… We’ve been talking over email ever since, but she’s very vague about a lot of things…!” 

I confessed. I confessed all of it. I was convinced that I needed to do so in order to live.

“Is she the reason why you turned Serena away?” 

They looked at me with a look of certainty in what he expected the answer to be. But I answered anyway.

“Yes.”

Mr. Black finally sat back down in the chair across from my desk.

“See, was that really so hard?” 

I did not respond. Really, I am terribly repulsed by his sarcastic demeanor. It tends to come off more as patronizing than anything else. 

“I’d love to see those emails, if you’d be so kind.”

I wordlessly turned around my computer monitor for him to look through. I had the thought to warn them not to go into any patient files, but I didn’t act upon it.

“Hah! She really was as vague as you said, huh?” 

He remarked as he read through the emails. I did not react.

“Though, I do see that she let you get a sneak peek at my notes, hmm?”

An arrow of fear shot through my chest, making me worry that they would be angered by this. But much to my surprise, they had simply laughed it off.

“Hey, how about we make a deal, old man?” 

He offered. 

I looked at them, cueing them to continue. 

“I can give you not just these notes of mine, but ALL of my notes, completely uncensored. Any information on that symbol and what it represents you could possibly desire. A brand new market for your Humanity Removal Therapy… All of it, for one simple little price…~” 

I was skeptical. That was a big claim, a big offer. But I pressed further.

“What’s the price?” 

I asked him.

“Yes, yes… All you need to do to start this new chapter in your life… Is to give Serena her Cat HRT prescription.” 

That… couldn’t possibly be all there was to it. 

That was the singular thought in my mind.

It was too simple. There had to be more to it. 

He mentioned “a new market for Humanity Removal Therapy” – for all I could know, that could mean that they would steal my formula right from under me.

It would put me out of a job!

And I can only imagine what Iris would think…

“No. I’m sorry Mr. Black, but I just can’t do that.” 

I responded to him, knowing fully that it could get me killed.

I couldn’t betray my patients like that, though.

I can’t betray Iris like that.

Sure, we butt heads many times, but I would be nothing without any of them.

And above all, I want to see each and every one of them live their happiest lives.

I saw Mr. Black frown in response to my answer. It was surprisingly genuine. He looked… disappointed.

But as he prepared to talk to me, he smiled ever so slightly.

“So that’s why so many read you as a hardass… You’re a stubborn bastard.” 

He remarked.

Again, without waiting for a response from me, they continued.

“I know the feeling.”

After that, he stood back up, grabbed his things, and left. 

--

February 18th, 2025

The following is an email. 

To: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

From: Doctor Mirai Fortune

Subject: Final Email

Hello, Doctor Erian.

I have both listened to the early morning recording of yourself and the journal entry of later in the day that you provided in your previous email.

I am deeply disappointed in how you have handled the situation.

For your trouble in dealing with them and with me, I have provided you with the documentation our adversary made on that day. Consider it a sense of closure, as this is the last time I will ever be contacting you.

While I am glad you resisted the offer to join them, I cannot afford to have cowardice such as yours weighing me down in my fight against them.

I hope you understand.

Mirai

[weministertomonsters]

The Alien Emissary - 2

➤ Wordcount - 1.2k

You wake up startled because you fall out your bed. Well, not your bed. This isn't The Collective's mothership. You're in a cramped space, lying on a cramped cot. You recognize the interior to be the inside of the Vathri shuttle.

Right, I passed out.

You sit up slowly, rubbing your temple in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning. Your hand brushes against electric cuffs hanging loose on the wall. That must have been the restraints used on the Vathri you saved. You lift one and grimace at the thin metal prong on the cuff. For electricity to be effective on a Vathri it has to get to their skin, which is under a protective layer of armor-like scales. The prongs are designed to be forced underneath. You've always wondered if it feels like getting needles shoved under your nails, in which case it would hurt badly. When you stand up, you bump your head on the ceiling. Frowning you rub your sore head.

"This room is practically pocket-sized," you mutter. "How'd they even stuff him down here?"

"You are awake." The Vathri's voice floats into the room through the open hatch. "Come up, we are reaching our destination."

You climb up into the cockpit. The Vathri is seated at the controls, looking far more familiar with it than you did.

"How long was I out?" You ask, folding your arms and watching him work.

"A quarter of an hour. Not long." His voice still has that mysterious buzz in it. Rather than being eerie, you find it sort of soothing.

"Is that normal? It was like I was on a bad trip."

"I have never seen a human use the cloaking, but I am not surprised. Even Vathri young find it difficult on their first try."

You step closer and surreptitiously look him over. Thanks to their biological armor, the Vathri appear fully covered and often go around wearing loose pants and some jewelry, and not much else. He doesn't have either. When your gaze dips between his thick, muscular thighs, he snorts.

"Looking for the princess destroyer, I assume?"

The startled sound you make is hardly elegant before you burst out laughing.

"The what now?" You snicker. "I had no idea your kind could be funny."

"This is all a bid to lure you in," he replies, busy fiddling with the controls.

"I was just curious. Sorry." You clear your throat. "Have you… Heard about me?"

"You are certainly a blip on the gossip radar."

"Shit. Attracting attention is a surefire way to get killed," you grumble.

"Perhaps you should not have slept with the Emissary of Luscen then?"

You scoff. "The rumors are exaggerated. We didn't get that far. We got caught, as apparently, all of the galaxy knows. It was my first time in space and I was excited and optimistic and horny about everything."

The shuttle's engine grumbles and the Vathri croons to it. While his native tongue sounds harsh to your ears, you can pick out the intention behind it.

Come on, just a little further. You can do it, you little hunk of metal, you think.

"Csami? What does that mean?" You ask, picking out one distinctive word.

"Lady."

"Cute." You grab a hold of the armrest of the pilot's seat as the engine begins to stall.

Not a big issue. You can see the planet you're heading for up ahead and you're pretty sure you're going to make it, even if the landing is rough.

"That is the shuttle's name. Csami-kïy."

"Lady-8," you muse.

"You are taking Vathri lessons?"

"Yes, I love learning languages. Luscen was pretty easy and I'd say I'm conversational with it now. Vathri has some sounds I don't think I can produce, though, so my speaking probably won't ever be good."

"Tell me, are you not even a little afraid of me?" He suddenly asks, turning eyes that burn like small orange suns in your direction.

"Of what you are? No. That's what made me a good fit as an Emissary. I'm more curious than anything. As for your jailbreak, I feel like we're in this together. For now, anyway. Besides, I tend to trust my gut."

"And what is it telling you?"

"That we're cool. You might be trouble, but not for me."

The Vathri makes a noncommittal sound. "I see."

You look down at his wrists, searching for the abrasion from the handcuffs. It's right there. The smaller delicate scales on his wrist aren't sitting quite right, having been rudely shoved aside by the prongs on the cuffs. He doesn't turn away from what he's doing but he can tell you're looking because he angles the injury away from you.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's unpleasant. You might want to sit down," the Vathri says.

But there's only one seat, and in the sleek design of the interior, there's nothing much to hold on to. As he starts to nose the shuttle down, you grab a hold of his shoulder to anchor yourself and the warmth of his scales seeps into your fingertips. Brazen, maybe, but you like being in one piece. When you nearly fly off balance, he takes one hand off the controls for a second to perch you on the arm of the chair.

"Lean into me," he says. "The landing might be rough."

You do. The shuttle shakes so violently that you're surprised nothing falls off as you land in a puff of dust. Once the shuttle comes to a screeching halt you lift your head and unclench your jaw. There's an arm looped around your side and holding you in place, except both his arms are in front, so that's not possible. You look down to see that it's his tail. The tip of it ends in a stinger that looks like a cross between a blade and a barbed arrow. It looks deadly and your little animal brain immediately wants to touch it.

"Can that kill me?"

He pulls his tails away and it flicks lightly against his calf. "Not unless I intend so. Poison is manually generated, much like spitting on someone."

You file that information away for later. He unclips the seatbelt and stands. When he reaches for something over your head, you flinch a little. He looks down at you, his hand still raised over your head.

"I'm not afraid," you say quickly.

His mandibles twitch. Vathri faces don't really make expressions, but you can practically feel his amusement.

"Humans are easy to read," He replies.

And what's that supposed to mean? You think, but he's already ducking out of the exit hatch.

You realize he's bigger than the Vathri who first exited the shuttle. None of them had to duck. You're busy wondering if they were all small and he's just big when you walk right into his back.

"Oh, sorry-"

He's frozen, his tail flicking in an uneasy way that immediately affects you too. If something larger than you is scared, you're dead meat.

"What's wrong?" You peer around him to see a huge angry-looking alien storming down the landing towards you.

"Another of your enemies? You killed his family or something?" You squeak.

"I fucked his boyfriend."

"What!"

"Get back inside," the Vathri says without turning to you. "I am about to take a beating."

You don't need to be told twice.

──────────────────

If you're wondering why I'm posting much slower right now it's because I've been busy on Patreon. You can read free stories on there that I haven't posted anywhere else, like Contents Under Pressure, Soft Heart, Bad Things and Vile And Vulgar (my favorite).

[prodixal]

"I think I am rather tough, actually. Your insults made my soul all rough and calloused. Nothing gets through --" it was far from truth, they both knew as much. But he took pleasure in messing with her anyway, and in allowing her moments to tease him, to sharpen her wits against the whetstone of his own mind. "Aye, but you could treat me better still. My feet are rather sore, perhaps...a massage?" he would sooner die than allow such a thing, but he had wanted to see her eyes widen, to feel her push against his shoulder once more. The twinkle in her eyes reflects in his own, his pupils widening at the sight as his hands relax within the movements of her fingers. He is leaned in, grin cut deep into his cheeks as he anticipates the words which leave his heart swelling with something undefined. He wishes to stay serious, in the face of their play, but he cannot, not truly. He'd felt so very pleased, so very happy with himself -- with this moment, with these words. "I see--" is spoken through lifted brows and he will lift up his pinky before her as a promise, and whisper. "Your secret is safe with me." But his mind does not quite let it go, instead he basks in something he was sure he had already known. And yet, it felt good to hear. It felt good to be certain. What had perhaps felt even better was her eagerness, her true and genuine want to keep him close. He'd relished it thoroughly and it made him feel less alone in his own wants. "Alright." he will repeat after her, and a laugh will escape him as he looks over the bed, scratching the back of his head in thought. "A luxury of a choice, huh? I fear I spread pretty wide while I sleep, yet it is most fortunate you are pocket sized and need but a corner to yourself. So, which corner will it be?." Rickon could not care less which side to sleep on, and a nervous laugh does escape him at what she casually says next. "Were else would you keep your hands, Dae?" 'We will have a place of our own after all. It only makes sense that they should too.' His brows rise in surprise, and he will look over as she leans against him once more, fingers squeezing gently between hers. "A place of our own?"

-

His name out her lips comes steady and sweet, yet it sounds just an awful lot like a warning. He knew the words that would come next, he knew and he swallowed hard in anticipation. His breath was caught in his lungs, all thoughts lost in the lilac of her eyes. She was so incredibly beautiful, so utterly mesmerising and he was quite certain facing a dragon would have been easier than facing her in this very moment. He was not ready, and yet he had promised not to lie. A part of him did not wish to lie. Perhaps there would come a sense of relief, with the truth. She meets him half way, she is close -- but not close enough. Rickon did not think she could ever be quite close enough. But he steps towards her anyway. A rush of courage cuts through the fear which flowed through his body like forested river, and his eyes fix firm on hers without blinking, without thinking, without doubt. There is a heaviness around them, the sound of truth echoing through him, clawing its way out. He will place his palms over her cheeks, gently, and allow himself a single moment where he would not think of the consequences. Not think of failure. Of rejection. "Must I say it?" the question is quiet, spoken firm through furrowed brows. She knew. Of course she knew. She was too smart, too observant not to know. And he is sure, in this moment, by the way she looks at him, by the way her question weighs, the way her cheeks flush, all but certain - she wishes for it too. His eyes will fall to her lips again, and this time he will not think on it, he will not freeze. There is a quick breath in, and he will lean down to close the space between them. And though he knows not what he is doing, he does what feels right. His lips press against hers, brushing them gently before he rounds them to a kiss. And his heart swells with a warmth, skin burning as his hands pull her in slowly, closer and deeper. Beneath a breath his lips will part, wanting for more, and more and then -- A realisation strikes him sudden and cruel and he pulls back, eyes wide open to find her, to remind him who she was, what this was, what he did -- "I --" words are lost in his throat, his eyes filling with genuine sense of remorse. And he will step back, slow, shaking his head briefly. "I had no right --" his breathing is faster, cheeks flushed red, ears burning. A step too far. Too many steps...too far. "Forgive me--" He knows not what else to say. Only that he would never want for anything else ever again, only her.

" ARE YOU MORE SENSITIVE THAN I THINK ?" daenya asks , her brow arching playfully even as she makes a sound as both her hands are taken hostage . even so , her eyes twinkle . " you enjoy me this way !" daenya replies as she allows her tongue to stick out at him just in time for both hands to be freed . another sound of surprise escapes her as her nose is pinched , and she swats him away affectionately . " so you agree ! i treat you well !" the twinkle in daenya's eyes is still there as she returns his smile , as she toys with his fingers with a hum as he speaks , her nod playfully regal and merciful at the delivery of his gratitude . she blinks in surprise as he leans in , leaning in herself to hear him . his words make her ears warm all over again , caught off guard for a moment as he utters them . it takes a beat before she's meeting his eyes squarely . " ... is that so ?" the pleased glow around her is warm . she tilts her head with it . " well , in the nature of sharing secrets ." daeny whispers before she leans in further , cupping one hand by her mouth as if someone may try to read her lips . " i must admit i enjoy you quite a bit more than i let on as well ." she allows her eyes to meet his for a long moment then , trying to smother her smile and failing before she's dropping her hand to shrug and say , " perhaps the most even ." daeny was sure rickon already knew . because outside of the playful teasing and perhaps the occasional loving insult , she was quite sure her affection was blatant . in truth she wasn't sure how she'd even managed to tuck rickon away from her siblings for so long . how such adoration wasn't written in the stars above her head or etched onto her fair forehead . perhaps her desire to keep him to herself was stronger than she'd even thought . she should've known , truly , if the beaming grin on her features said anything about it . " alright !" daenya replies perhaps too eagerly , but she can't find it in herself to care . yes , rickon likely most definitely knows how much she adores him . daeny sees little purpose in hiding it truly outside of jest . she weaves their fingers together as she looks towards the bed and says , " you can protect me in your sleep and choose which side of the bed you should like !" she turns back to him with a grin to add , " i can keep my hands to myself if you should like ." a decisive nod . " just say the word ." daenya's gasp at the prospect is warm , her eyes crinkling with her growing smile to say , " a home for lark and mark on rhoyne ... i think it a fine idea ." her thumb rubs circles into his skin to say , " we will have a place of our own after all . it only makes sense that they should to ." a nod . " it is fair ." - daenya knows little of what to do . for it is strange now , isn't it ? it is strange ? she somehow finds herself nodding in response to rickon's question despite the fact that she is quite sure he cannot see her doing so . her cheeks are warm with the realization , but perhaps it isn't that at all . it likely isn't that at all . her mind buzzes in a search for something to say as she watches him , her eyes following him as he moves through the room . anything to say , truly . a full sentence , or even half of one . something clever , or funny . something . anything . rickon beats her to it . daeny has to blink up at him where he stands before her , her gaze still on him as she swallows thickly . their eyes meet and daeny's eyes search his , her heart still hammering . it takes but a moment for her to get to her feet , for her eyes to meet his squarely once again .

" rickon ." her voice is steadier than she thought it might be . her lilac eyes bore into his . " who is it you wish to kiss ?" another flick of her eyes over his features before she is taking a firm step forward , closing some of that space between them . " ... do i know her ?" the answer feels like it weighs heavy in the air around them ; unless daeny is wrong . and perhaps she is . perhaps she is and this is all her imagination or a misunderstanding because rickon cannot allow her to be his sweet dream . he said said so . and yet — 

[biggestqiblifan]

Alright, seeing as its the Olympics, how many of the "Olympians" / Athletes are demigods?

[horsemeatluvr23]

the juppet !! i just realised he is jerma posing i swear that was unintentional...... i spent so long digging thru muppet concept art and looking at old puppet designs just to end up doing a rly simple drawing but. i love joehills!! i have only been watching them for like 4 years but their videos r so special to me :3

[zellk]

Forgot to share here.... old doodles of when I finally came around to finding a design I like for Qalaari's mom !!

[anachronismstellar]

Oh. I love this, I love this so fucking much hold on *cracking my fingers* I have a paper to procrastinate

--------

It started after the Human and Demon realm decided to sign an agreement and keep the peace as best as they could. Not to say that there was no conflict, far from it, but Yue Qingyuan had to admit that things were mostly peaceful. And such peace had repercussions.

For him it meant less high stake missions, his work turning into a more diplomatic/administrative one. And maybe that was why he was one of the first to notice Shang Qinghua's transformation, as they had to work closely not just to keep Yue Qingyuan updated on An Ding business but also to be aware of the politics in the Demon realm as well.

He had never payed his Shidi such attentions, one because his heart would forever belong to Xiao Jiu, second because Shang-shidi was always hiding himself behind or under piles of paper and practical boring robes, It was hard to look at his Shidi and see him as something more than a coworker. Even when they had to attend prestigious political parties, it was as if Shang Qinghua made an effort to blend among the crowd, doing his utmost to not call attention to himself.

Which brought him back to when he first realized how handsome his Shidi really was.

It was just another boring week of paperwork and preparations to receive a huge delegation of a young Sect from faraway mountains. His meeting with Shang Qinghua was scheduled to be held in the middle of the morning, and it had been delayed by half an hour already. Which was unusual, but Yue Qingyuan also had been held back by another meeting, so he wasn't paying much attention to the time anyway.

Until a portal made of shadows and ice opened right in the middle of his office, and stumbling out of it came Shang Qinghua, cheeks reddened by the cold.

That was normal. That Yue Qingyuan had seen plenty of times.

What he wasn't expecting was the brocaded silk outer robes, the wide sleeves showing a pattern of tiny snowflakes building up at the edges, forming a gradient from deep blue to white. Another surprise was his hair, flowing down his shoulders in waves of soft warm brown in a half up hairdo, held up by a beautiful silver guan with sapphires glittering under the sunlight.

Yue Qingyuan had to blink, holding back his hands from rubbing his eyes.

"I am so, so sorry, Zhangmen-shixiong, we had a huge problem with one of the elders today, and then I had to reschedule my King's entire day, and then a delegation from the south came-"

"It's..." he held both his hands up to calm down the peak lord, deciding to use his old and gold tactic with his most anxious Shidi: smile and nod. "It's no problem, my meeting also got delayed. But Shidi should have told me that the Northern Desert was holding a party, I would have postponed our meeting for another day."

"Party?" Shang Qinghua seemed genuinly confused for a second, then looking down at himself, the red on his cheeks becoming darker. "Oh! You mean- No, no, don't worry, Zhangmen-shixiong, these are just- Uh. My King gave me these and, well, I've been saving them for special occasions but after the world almost ending it felt silly not to- Ah. I don't wanna say indulge, that's not the word..."

"I... I see," he understood the sentiment behind it, somewhat, although he wasn't expecting Shang Qinghua to be the seize the day or we only life once type of person. "Shidi looks very nice." and his comment got him another deep blush as Shang Qinghua started to blab about everything and nothing at all, setting his papers over Yue Qingyuan's desk.

------

It kept happening.

After that day, Yue Qingyuan started to pay a bit more attention on the An Ding peak lord. It was like watching a rare flower blow for the first time, yellow and blue petals shyly expanding into full glory. Long forgotten were the too bright yellow robes, replaced by warmer tones with patterns and stones worthy of a prestigious lord and diplomat of two realms.

But if anyone would ask Yue Qingyuan, the most striking change had been Shang Qinghua's physical appearance. The half hair do became a permanent feature, showing off soft curls giving him a younger image. Which was funny in contrast of how mature and more relaxed Shang Qinghua presented himself now: impeccable posture without an once of hesitation while dealing with difficult Lords and Ladies, securing deals left and right as if the world had no other choice but to bow down to his whims.

It was a good look on him. It was a headache for Yue Qingyuan.

He was happy for his Shidi! He was! He knew how hard life had been for all of them, Shang Qinghua specially. He was one of the few peak lords that shared a similar origin to Yue Qingyuan, clawing up his path from poverty to power with sweat and tears. And although he had betrayed the Sect and put them in a very delicate position, it was undeniable that, without Shang Qinghua, Cang Qiong Sect wouldn't be half as organized as they were, or an ounce prosperous. There was a reason why he accepted the An Ding peak lord back.

He just wished for the marriage proposals to stop coming.

"This one will pass along Lord's Jiǎ Tiānbà message, and analyze your offer with most care," he repeated his patterned answer to the fourth- fifth? Merchant lord trying to get his daughter married to the An Ding peak lord. And it was only the middle of the month.

This time he barely waited for his office door to be closed to throw the proposal on the pile with the other ones. He really thought that the lord had approached them with the intent of doing business, he had prepared himself for that, set an entire hour for negotiations only to be bombarded by demands of downy numbers and his Shidi's birthday.

For the first time in many years he wondered if it was too early to start drinking. In his defense, he had lunch before the meeting, so maybe not? He could use a cup of wine.

Before he could reach out for his cabinet, a portal opened in the middle of his office, just as the day when this entire Shang Qinghua being too handsome had begun. But instead of a handsome human, a powerful demon King crossed the shadows, dressed up for a diplomatic war, as if he were to attend the Emperor's court instead of Yue Qingyuan's office.

He didn't panic because he had spoken to Shang Qinghua not long ago and he had warned Yue Qingyuan that his King would seek for an appointment. He should be a bit more concerned about the fact that a Demon King was able to breach the top security talismans plastered all over his walls, but that would come later. Now he stood up to bow to the Demon, eyeing suspiciously at the thick parchment being delicately held between dark claws.

"Mobei-jun. Shang-shidi mentioned that Mobei-jun were to request a meeting with this lord. How can this sect leader be of assistance?"

Mobei-jun bowed back, a bit lower than Yue Qingyuan was expecting, as he extended the parchment towards the human, waiting for him to open before start speaking:

"This Mobei-jun would like to request Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan the hand in marriage of the An Ding Peak Lord and my Advisor, Shang Qinghua, as it is the costume between humans."

Yue Qingyuan did not freeze because he had better control than that, and he honestly should have seen this coming. What he did instead was read the proposal. Most of it was just formalizing old agreements, but he couldn't help but notice how the Demon King had sweetened the deal with treasures beyond compare, along with medicinal plants that only grew in the arid Northern Desert.

"This Sect Leader is honored by Mobei-jun's request, and thanks Mobei-jun for his generous offer," he said as he rolled the parchment close, bowing deeply. "This Sect Leader will bring this matter to Shang-shidi's attention, and offer an answer as soon as possible."

They said their goodbyes, Mobei-jun leaving his office by another portal, and this time Yue Qingyuan didn't set aside the proposal with the rest of the growing pile.

Honestly? He was glad. It was past time those two resolved their weird relationship. And if it worked out, which it would, he and the entire mountain could see how in love the Demon King and the An Ding Lord were, it would solve his perky problem once and for all.

Now, if only he could find someone for Liu-shidi so he could never stare at another marriage proposal ever again...

---------

Ta-da!

Now back to college stuff I go ;-; adiufhusdfhuisdfh

AU/Headcanon

People didn't realize how good sqh looked because he never cared for himself, nor did he have time to do so. But once he was no longer constantly stressed about getting killed by MBJ, he got into a better self-care routine. People began to notice that although he doesn't have the same sharp features as SQQ, he still possesses smooth skin and soft features. He almost looks like pre-abyss LBH with his big eyes and curly hair. SQQ would unconsciously squish SQH's round cheeks and pet his head because that's what he did to LBH when he was younger.

Unlike the other peak lords, SQH was approachable and more social, so the number of people, both human and demon, asking YQY for SQH's hand in marriage exponentially increased. YQY was able to swiftly and politely reject all of them until MBJ teleported into his office, handing him a letter and glaring at him until he opened it. YQY stared at the content of the letter, exhausted from the whole ordeal. He just sighed and told MBJ that he'd send an official response.

He thought he only had to chase off SQQ and LQG admirers. But now he has to do more work chasing off SQH's admirers. SQH went out on more missions and socialized with more people for trades than SQQ and LQG, so he's charming people left and right without even realizing it. He really hopes MBJ succeeds in courting SQH. YQY couldn't deal with rejecting people any longer.

[mofsblog]

Scratch is Lillith Evidence

I've kind of accepted this as canon but I havent really seen anyone compile all the evidences so uh here for anyone curious

Kayne first references her in Part 20 which does reveal that Lillith exists in Malevolent:

In part 37, when John, Arthur and Oscar are exploring the barn, John sees a painting of a woman with pale skin and dark hair and seems to go into a kind of trance when he looks at her (which. Gestures. Lillith. Gestures. Succubus-y powers. Gestures)

Later when they open the gateway in Part 38, Scratch merges with a woman who looks exactly like the one in the painting and she's described as having "alabaster skin", aka world's most highly specific descriptor, which also happens to the same description used in the Lillith entry in the Malleus Monstorum for CoC seventh edition (BIG THANKS TO @/unsafewaters for sending the images to me)

And then in Intermezzo, Kayne directly mentions having a daughter and claims that she would "love" Arthur which could tie back to him being Her Favourite. Also I don't like using evidence that isn't in the source material but in the post season 4 QnA, when Harlan's reading out the notes he wrote for Intermezzo, one of the things he reads out is the daughter line, which implies it was important enough to mention (and wasn't just a throwaway joke)

And last but not least, Yorick mentions that Scratch/Owlexander/the entity watching them is close in power to Kayne which would make sense if he created her

Also earlier in the episode, Yorick implied Scratch may be working against Kayne specifically which does imply they have a pre existing relationship which would make sense if she was Lillith:

Extra evidence: In the fake Edward Willaim Allan's journal, he has an entry where talks about how, despite the fact he distrusts his "dream dweller" (who we know is Scratch pre fracturing), something about them still fills him with awe and he feels oddly seduces by them:

Which is likely Lillith using her powers to influence him and make him easier to manipulate (since it's heavily implied, if not basically explicitly stated, she was using him to open a gateway for her to enter the world)

Also! Semi unrelated but while I have your attention and talking about theories! I just wanna highlight a minor theory of mine that there's a high chance Kayne trapped Lillith in some kind of pocket dimension or prison of sorts because the prison line (from the second to last screenshot in this post) feels like foreshadowing and I find it odd that if she supposedly is close to him in power, she would need a humans help to travel through worlds (Also, she's framed as getting "freed" in part 38 when they do eventually open the gateway which leads to the question: free from what?) so that's something to consider

[ratatatastic]

"...where everybody is...except for-little bit further for barky but it's good for me!" you can tell matthew has never stopped chirping sasha for living in boca (most of the sane guys chose places in ft lauderdale) which is a good half hour drive away from both amerant bank and the iceplex and those etas are sans traffic! the i-95 gets so congested i cant imagine what the drive is like when its rush hour lmaoooo yeah sasha deserves to be chirped to hell and back for choosing boca raton of all places and yeah no wonder this guys got a lead foot on the pedal huh

the fond little smile like oh here he goes again he does this all the time and matthews cheesy little proud grin "yes i do give you grief over this! its not the first time and it wont be the last time! i will keep doing it until you move closer to me!!"

HAPPY RAT ALERT! hes certified in the art of subtly that is if you chirp your captain enough maybe he will listen to the hints youre dropping and will in fact not live so far away maybe he will move into your house

the old married couple are doing old married things

"barky are you going to move closer to the facility?"our beat has to have their fun too and if it makes sasha smile then i can allow it! yes thats it bully him into moving closer!!!

edmonton oilers @ florida panthers game 5 post practise interview | 6.18.24 (x)

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Alright. Let's talk about Akai's and Furuya's fighting styles, control, and the ferris wheel fight, featuring some tangents on professionalism.

The second reason is the implied: Akai is (in general, probably not in this situation, because he is going along with the fight Rei wants) a professional, and professionals do not fight. A professional will either ambush or assassinate (you know, like the sniping Akai is so well-known for), and generally do everything in his power to avoid a fight. It's about gaining the advantage, pressing and keeping it, to maintain control over the situation. For comparison, fights are between people of roughly equal footing, and fighting follows rules. As a person who lives in the world of actual violence, Akai does not need the fancy dances of a fighting sport, he needs his rifles, guns, and a self-defense technique for when things go really bad and personal. (Incidentally, a professional will also plan, won't let his emotions get in the way, stay calm, and keep working in bad conditions - we also see these traits in Akai.) I can remember two instances of Akai fighting (there might be more)- the ferris wheel fight, and the one time he knocked out the people after Yumi (and arguably, they didn't really have a chance and it wasn't really a fight). Other than that, he's just coordinating and providing tactical support.

Akai using Jeet Kune Do for fighting is an interesting choice. It's not as well-known as many other fighting styles (hell, it's not even a fighting style, it's a self defense technique and really more of a philosophy or a principle), but it has a couple of key values that characterize him well. First off, it's hugely individualistic. Practitioner's are encouraged to find their own way, to find what works for them, which really is Akai in a nutshell, doing what he wants. Secondly, it is described as a highly efficient way to fight. There are few, if any, rules to Jeet Kune Do, you're expected to use whatever technique will help you the most in the moment. For this reason, it is also highly adaptable, and requires an appropriate mindset to use. This latter point, I think, really mirrors the approach the FBI has in the series - do what you need to in order to get the results we want, at whatever the cost.

The fact that it's a self defense technique is important for two reasons: one is the immediate one for our context - Akai's defending himself from an angry Rei on the ferris wheel.

With all that out of the way, let's get into the ferris wheel fight, and what we learn about them there.

For contrast, let's look at Rei. It's almost funny how little professionalism Rei has compared to Akai, when it comes to the world they're living in. Rei's choice of fighting style is boxing, and he's practicing a rather straightforward, aggresive version, with barely any defense, at great personal risk. That point about professionals not letting their emotions get in their way? Well, either Rei has never heard it, or he's deliberately ignoring it. Either way, it really holds him back from gaining and maintaing control.

(I would be remiss not to point out that boxing is also done for show, fitting for this show-off.)

Boxing might honestly be good for Rei in order get out his anger and to up his pain tolerance, but for the purpose of keeping him alive, it sucks. It's up close, it's personal, and it's dirty (that tagline might as well describe Furuya himself). A threat who's gotten into that range is already a problem. Sure, usually - though not in this instance - he's also got his handgun, with its limited reach, limited firepower. For his purposes, it might suffice - he's not supposed to be a fighter, and the advantage of his gun is in its concealability. I suppose he gets a couple points in professionalism for that choice, and for often bringing back-up, whether he's working for the PSB or the BO. For what it's worth, he's also likely trained in Kendo or something similar, as we see in Wild Police Story, but he doesn't really use it. We see Rei fighting rarely, but it happens; with Matsuda at the beginning of WPS, casually inflicting violence on a kidnapper, and now here on the ferris wheel.

It's so interesting to me how they interact here.

Despite both of them bleeding, it starts to feel like Akai is in control, or at least not dated by the fighting - he gets Rei good with Jeet Kune Do's signature One Inch Punch, but has enough presence of mind to casually grabs him so he doesn't fall to his death (which gets him shoved off with a foot. Give Furuya an inch, and he'll try to take your head). Furuya's meanwhile clearly enjoying himself, might have even entered the zone, a sort of battlejoy/trance, asking for a second round (here we go again, this is a fight, with certain rules, like rounds), and Akai, well, he's beaten up, but it doesn't look like he'd surrender to get Furuya off his back - despite it being an option that would end the fight early. We see both of them smiling at points in this exchange, and I think it speaks to both of them, inherently, being thrillseekers. Putting all they are into the outcome of this fight against a dangerous enemy is a thrilling brush with mortality.

Them fighting at all, on top of the ferris wheel, is stupid, plain and simple. They expect the BO to show up any minute, and they'd better be in peak condition - instead they indulge in this fight. Really, it's Rei launching himself at Akai, who's mostly dodging and defending where necessary (I say indulge, because he is armed, and could probably escalate/end the fight early). Fights happen for a variety of reasons, usually social (because otherwise we'd be talking about violence, not a fight), and this implies Rei sees Akai as roughly equal/wants him to have a fair fighting chance, following the social contract of announcing his presence. He launches the attack, takes the initiative but the distance is so large, and he telegraphs his intentions clearly enough that his advantage is minimal.

Akai has the distinct disadvantage of carrying his rifle case, protecting its contents, because he'll need them later. He is, as the series lets us know, a capable fighter (described stronger as Masumi, who can deal with Ran, an established capable martial artist), and we can see it in this fight. He's reading Rei's movements and blocking most of the hits - for what it's worth, Rei's style seems more focused on quantity of attacks over quality. He does get Akai with some unconventional angles of attack (like swinging up into a kick from falling), and mostly this initial struggle is about them fighting for control.

When we cut back to the fight, they're still at it. I find it interesting that Akai tries to talk Rei down throughout the fight. Because the presence of mind necessary to form coherent sentences in a fight is not nothing, and the fact that he at least tries to go for a different solution is noteworthy, even if it is ultimately useless.

Then Conan calls Akai. This is in a small pause to the fight, because, surprise surprise, fighting takes effort (another reason professionals avoid it). It is really funny to me how Rei respects the rules of a fight, but he also sees an opportunity in his opponent's distraction, and seizes it (at the cost of also throwing himself down into a chasm, the self-sacrificial bastard).

Only at this point does it feel like Akai is taking the fight more seriously. I'd wager this is a) because Rei has displayed the willingness to destroy himself to take Akai with him, b) due to the enclosed space - less space to dodge and c) because at least he is aware time is ticking. They're both injured, and the enemy is coming soon. This fight better be over quick.

They only don't fight each other to the death because of Conan's timely intervention. He calls to Akai for help, and just like that, the conflict is resolved, for now. Akai wordlessly rejects Rei's request for a second round, which Rei just...accepts. Allows Akai that level of control, and the control of the flow of information (namely, they don't tell Conan they've been at it). It baffles me, but then again, I suppose it is a fight, the fight has rules, and, clearly, something more important takes precedence. Then again, this whole damn exchange makes no logical sense. Rei has sworn bloody revenge on Akai, who just saved his life today, and instead of doing something about the BO they're fighting a little. Logic is nowhere to be seen, all of this is emotional. On both sides.

I guess bonus points in professionalism for working together for the rest of the rest of the movie, even if they're sharing intel with/depending on a literal child for the solutions to their problem. It's a very unusual set of circumstances indubitably not covered by their training, granted, so what can you do (I'd still love for the adults in this universe to do their job, sue me).

Last point of note for the movie, in my opinion, is Akai waiting after all the chaos is over for Rei to spot him. Is this a case of checking in and simultaneously showing that he, too, made it out alive? He is clearly noticed by Rei, and only then walks away. And Rei just lets him. Akai is in control, in the end.