#and at the same time wields incredible power

[drdemonprince]

on the topic of your "bad gender" posts, the one you made mentioning sexual abuse (especially by mothers) is something nobody talks about at all and I'm glad you mentioned it.

My psychiatrist said I have CPTSD after I went through a huge breakdown after putting pieces together that I've been experiencing long-term sexual abuse from my mother (incredibly long story, but you get the idea). I still completely struggle with seeing what she's done and does as abuse, because it is totally buried in my mind that it is not abusive or strange because she is my mother. No matter how many times my friends and partner say it's wrong, or things like "imagine if it was your father", or my DBT therapist is straight up with me and tells me I was groomed by her, I just cannot get the idea that her being my mother specifically makes her behavior acceptable. (especially since I didn't come out as broadly transmasc until I was 18, and was thus seen as a complete extension of her and her body prior to).

I genuinely cannot comprehend where the line is between normal care and abuse because of what I've learned (from her or otherwise) maternal care looks like "compared to" paternal. And I just haven't found anything that's been able to really help me grasp what I've experienced because I just cannot understand why, or what I can do. The only thing I've found with others describing my specific experience is the MDSA subreddit, which is usually just extremely triggering for me to browse (obviously the content, but also the daughter framing and just the everything about it) so I don't go there, but it has shown me that many of us have lived very similar experiences, we just rarely recognized it as abnormal because it was our mother. Perceiving men as the inherently "bad gender" especially in terms of sexual abuse just makes me see red, and is a lot of why this can keep going on unnoticed. I don't really know what I'm trying to say, and I'm sorry to dump this here. It's hard to discuss the nuance of it without being kinda specific. I just saw you mention it and I rarely see the topic brought up, so I guess I just wanted to say thank you for doing so

Thank you so much for sharing this, anon. SO many children endure parentification, spousification, covert incest, and sexual abuse at the hands of their mothers and never get that mistreatment recognized as such because people view women as benevolent, passive caretakers rather than full human beings who are capable of harm. Adults wield immense power over children, particularly parents, and this power structure functions in much the same way men's power over women does -- it makes children into the property of adults, and facilitates abuse.

You are not alone in this experience at all. I'm sure you've heard all about Jeannette McCurdy's Memoir, but if you haven't read it, you might find it affirming. The poet Anne Sexton also sexually abused her daughter, Linda, who wrote a memoir about it called Searching for Mercy Street that is also a powerful read. The host of the podcast The Mental Illness Happy Hour is an adult survivor of covert sexual abuse at the hand of his mother, and he speaks about it quite frequently and thoughtfully on his show, and has interviewed numerous guests who have also survived covert incest. As a male survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of a woman, he's a rare, needed voice, and I've gotten a ton out of listening to it. There's also a self-help book on covert incest that I've read and appreciated called Silently Seduced. You may also find value in Issendai's analysis of estranged parent forums -- lots of documentation of abusive female parents and how they justify themselves to be found there, and the author eviscerates it expertly.

I hope that reading and listening to some of this material will help you to more clearly see the outlines of your own abuse and to recognize it as wrong and distinct from true maternal care. It wasn't my mom who was the chief boundary violator in my household, it was my dad, but a lot of what he did mimicked the traditionally "maternal" abuse profile, and all these resources helped me wrap my head around it a lot better. It's triggering stuff, but I think it is worth plunging these depths when you feel safe to do so, to what ever degree you can comfortably manage. You might want to dig up the Mental Illness Happy Hour episodes specifically about the host's abuse experience first, since that focuses on a man's experience of having been groomed by his mom.

Thanks for writing. My inbox is open if you wanna talk. This stuff was a foundational trauma for me that I have processed heavily and I'm always willing to discuss it more with people who have been there. <3

[poirott]

Geraldine McEwan as Miss Marple

AGATHA CHRISTIE'S MARPLE (2004 - 2013) → Season 1

[windsofcourage]

FRUITY HC PROMPTS / @hypnoticallycaucasian / ACCEPTING .

🍎  :    how stable is my muse’s mental health?  have they been diagnosed with any mental illnesses and  /  or conditions?  do they have any undiagnosed mental illnesses and  /  or conditions?  do they or should they attend therapy?  

||. WELL , Link sure does have retrograde amnesia. . . . I'm not kidding about that diagnosis , and he definitely should go to therapy,but to actually answer the question : Link ...exists on a perpetual on a scale, and it always depends on "what time period of Link are you asking about", because the answer will change depending on what he does and doesn't remember.

Link before the Calamity (specifically: before the sword) would have been relatively stable. Outside of being a teenage boy with an extreme sense of duty and pressure to perform, he wouldn't have to contend with much. Healthy home, healthy mindsets, healthy life. It's when he pulled the sword and began to shut his emotions down to be a "reliable hero" that some problems would have begun to manifest. In my headcanon : dissociative episodes (+dissociative amneisa &. subsequent fugue) run congruently with his rising stress levels , and are a related but separate issue to his originally-self-imposed selective mutism.

Link is a slow emotional processor. He thinks through his emotions and takes time to sort them out. (Mostly because he really doesn't get bothered by a whole lot.) But when he's "on duty" or otherwise needed... he doesn't feel himself allowed to take the time to sort it out. Not during, and often not afterwards until well later, either. And then only when he's on his own. In Link's world, it's act first, think (and feel) later. ESPECIALLY when all eyes are on him.

At some point in his development into "Knight Link" (which imo was cemented well before he was actually appointed as Zelda's personal knight), Link's solution to a wealth of emotion without any time to process it all was to focus solely on the physical task at hand, whatever that may be. It ... doesn't shut down the emotion spurring the stress... but he can act. He can do something to stave it all off or fix it while it's happening. Face it head on, and quickly. Unfortunately ... even this isn't always possible in his profession. And this mind vs. heart endeavor is a taxing one. As such, if Link is unable to tackle the issue and fix it, he will rapidly begin to deteriorate into a dissociative episode. Specifically dealing with depersonalization. If the stress continues, Link has a tendency to completely emotionally/mentally black out during these periods. (aka: dissociative amnesia). He'll either seem to be completely spacing out, or completely zeroed in on a task from the outside looking in. (It's caused problems and some serious one-sided arguments with his mother before.)

In some conjunction with this, canonically, Link has been known to voice his inner thoughts and feelings less and less over time. By the time he was appointed to Zelda, it's noted that he barely spoke at all. While he is entirely capable of speech, when he undergoes high stress levels, it can become difficult for him to find the words to voice himself freely. (Now, it is worth nothing that Link is naturally a pretty quiet individual (imo even his voice is on the naturally softer side anyways). Link not talking does not automatically mean he's stressed out. But sometimes there is an inherent inability to speak even if he wanted to.)

All of this is true of Amnesia/Post!Calamity Link, although the triggers are different. Post!Calamity Link struggles a lot more often with depersonalization, derealization and dissociative amnesia + fugue, especially the more he comes to remember his/Hyrule's past. Part of that is due to stress, part of is trauma, and part of it is from just barely cheating death/the reincarnation cycle through the Shrine of Resurrection.

[vaguely-concerned]

I understand and agree with a lot of the frustrations about the shortcomings of Inquisition as a story. but sometimes when I hear people complain about the chosen one narrative in it I do want to just be like... you know it's a deconstruction of the concept more than anything, right. the inquisitor isn't actually chosen by anything except stumbling into the wrong (right?) room at the right (wrong?) time because they like, heard a noise or whatever. or if you think they are chosen, as many do in-universe, that's something you have to take on faith, the maker-or-whoever moves in mysterious ways indeed-style. the Inquisitor isn't actually a Destined Chosen One, they're a Just Some Guy in a fancy hat, self-delusions of grandeur to taste as you'd prefer.

a running thread that goes through all of the personal quests of the companions is the concept of a comforting lie vs. an uncomfortable truth, upholding old corrupt structures vs. disrupting them, and the role of faith in navigating that. (blackwall the warden vs. thom rainier the liar and murderer. hissrad vs. the iron bull, or is that the other way around? cassandra and the seekers -- do we tell the truth about what we find, even if it means dismantling the old order of the world? and so on.) and your inquisitor IS at the same time a comforting lie (a necessary one, in dark times? the game seems to ask) and an uncomfortable truth (we are the result of random fickle chance, no protective hand is held over the universe, it's on us to make a better world because the maker sure as hell won't lift a divine finger to help anyone, should he against all odds exist). faith wielded for political power... where's the point that it crosses the line into ugliness? is it before it even begins? what's the alternative? will anyone listen to the truth, if you tell it?

interesting how you also get a mix of companion agency in this -- you have characters like dorian who ALWAYS choose one side of the comforting lie vs. uncomfortable truth dichotomy. he will always make up his own mind to go back to tevinter and try to dismantle the corruption of the old system no matter what you say, or how you try to influence him. meanwhile iron bull is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum -- so psychologically trapped and mangled, caught in an impossible spiritual catch-22, that his sense of identity is left entirely to you and your mercy. you cannot change dorian in any way that matters; you can be his friend or not, support him or not, but he is whole no matter what. you are given incredible and potentially destructive-to-him power over bull's soul. it's really cool (and heartbreaking) to think about.

this is a game about how history will eat you even while you're still alive, and shape you into whatever image it pleases to serve it, and for all your incredible power right now you are powerless in the face of the gravitational force of time -- of more than time, of History. you won't recognize yourself in what History will make of you, because you belong to it now. you don't belong to yourself anymore and you never will again. the further you were from what it needs from you to begin with, the more you will find yourself distorted in its funhouse mirror. (why hello there inquisitor ameridan, same hat!)

and to me this is so much the core of what Dragon Age is about right from the Origins days -- how and by whom history gets written, the inherent unreliable narration of it all. I hope you like stories, Inquisitor. You are one now.

I do think it's probably still the weakest of the games narratively, and it's hampered by its structure and bloated systems. but I also find it disingenous to say that there's nothing deeper or actually interesting going on with it, thematically. if you're willing to engage with it there is Some Real Shit going on under the high fantasy-tinted surface.

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Wield It

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You start your training with Qimir while also fighting the growing attraction you feel towards him.

Qimir Masterlist

You sit on a hill that overlooks the island. Your eyes are closed and you listen to your surroundings. You hear little critters chirping, waves crashing along the shores, the sound of Qimir breathing.

There's a buzzing sensation that courses through you and you know it's because Qimir draws closer. You feel him reaching out and, with your eyes still closed, you catch his wrist with your hand.

You open your eyes to see him smirking down at you, "Good," he says, staring at you with pride.

You drop his wrist and look away, staring out to the sea, "At the rate I've been going, I'm sure Mae will be much more suited to be your equal than I."

He looks at you curiously, "Does that thought bother you?"

You shrug, "Yes and no," you sigh, "Yes, because it proves to me that I'm not fit for this. No, because I still think Mae would be much more suited to be your equal than me."

"You have the potential. I sense a strong connection to the Force in you. You can have the power, Y/N. You just need to strengthen that connection, let it take over you. Then you can wield and bend it to however you like." He holds out his hand, "Stand up."

You place your hand in yours and he aids you to your feet. You stand there waiting for his next instruction.

"Close your eyes, do the same as before. Deep breaths, listen to your surroundings, but think of a time you were angry. A time that had your blood boiling, to the point you felt like you wanted everything around you to erupt in flames."

Your mind quickly flashes back to various times in your life where you felt angry, but none of them had the feeling that Qimir described. You thought back to your youth and then that's when it came.

You were a teenager. You came back from school to the apothecary your aunt owned. She was the one that took you in, raised you, and taught you how to run her shop. She always greeted you with a loving smile, but this time, she didn't.

You entered the shop to find it in disarray. You called for your aunt, hoping she would respond. But nothing.

Then you saw a pair of feet sticking out from behind the counter. You rushed over to her and she was already dead. You held her crying until the shop owner next door, came to help you.

Bounty hunters that weren't happy with a concoction your aunt gave them. In retaliation, they robbed and killed her.

The anger you felt towards them. The way you wanted to slaughter them after someone pointed them out to you a week later.

Going back to that memory, made your clench your fists and tighten your jaw. Your aunt was the only person who truly cared and loved you. And she was taken from you. Your aunt was taken from you. Rya was taken from you. You've primarily been alone and you were tired of it. You were angry that forces out of your control would take the people you cared about from you.

You wanted to take that control back.

"Amazing," you hear Qimir say and your eyes shoot open. Several rocks and boulders scattered around the hill were all suspended in the air. You feel that buzzing sensation again. It's much stronger this time.

"I told you," Qimir says, now standing behind you, whispering into your ear, "Let it take over you," he grabs your wrist, raising your arm out in front of you, "Wield and bend it."

You punch your fist out and the rocks zoom past you out into a rock pillar standing in the sea. The rocks pummel it, causing it to break and collapse.

You look over your shoulder and become incredibly aware how close Qimir is standing to you. You also feel one of his hands on your hips.

You clear your throat and take a few steps back, "That was...incredible."

"In due time, you'll be able to do much more than lift rocks," he gestures for you to follow him, "Let's eat."

____________________

You're trying to sleep. For the most part, the cave is dark, except for the little corner Qimir sits, working on his helmet.

You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position to lay in. But nothing. Your body is pleading to rest, but your mind can't seem to get the hint. Thoughts are racing, questions and worries litter your mind.

You roll over, facing the direction where Qimir sits. He looks up, "Something wrong?"

You sigh, forgoing sleep and slipping out of the bed. You walk over to Qimir's little work station, sitting on the ground beside him, "So what is this?"

"A helmet made out of cortosis. Extremely durable. No lightsaber or blaster can get through it."

"I never knew such a thing existed," you say in awe.

"They use helmets similar to these in the Jedi academy. Help us hone in on using the Force and relying on just the Force," he states as he solders his helmet.

You look up at him in surprise, "You were a Jedi?"

"A long time ago. Things didn't work out," he says with a smirk and you can't help but snort.

"Did you just make a joke?"

He shrugs, "I can be funny sometimes."

"Has Mae seen this funny side of you?"

Qimir's smirk falls to a serious expression, "She only knows me as her Master. She doesn't know that the Qimir she knows out there," he gestures vaguely out, "is the same one here."

You bring your knees to closer to you, arms resting on your knees, "So you really think Mae will be your acolyte?"

"We have similar visions, we want to see the downfall of the Jedi. They talk of peace, but peace is a lie. There has never been and never will be peace. And I want to show them that," he reaches out and rests his hand on yours, "Together, we'll be able to show them that."

You nod, "I'm trying, Qimir. I hope you know that."

"I do. I appreciate you, for being here, for allowing this to happen."

You suddenly find yourself yawning and Qimir gives you a playful look, "Am I boring you?"

You shake your head insistently, "No, no. I just-I think my mind has finally caught up to what my body's been telling it."

Qimir rubs your hand and then pats it, "Rest. Your training continues tomorrow."

"Good night, Qimir," you say as you stand and head back to your bedroll.

"Good night," he murmurs, eyes stuck on you as you slip into bed, rolling over to face away from him. There's a pulling in his chest as he continues to watch you from afar.

He rubs at his chest, trying to soothe the ache. He knows nothing but you will soothe the ache in his chest he's still unsure about.

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - The Lioness's Webs

Summary - In a calculated game of ambition and seduction, her deft navigation of her brother's manipulative schemes to charm Prince Jacaerys, the future heir, leads her entangled in a web of power, desire, and uncertain loyalties amidst the glittering backdrop of courtly intrigue.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister reader

Warnings - Violence (barely)

Word count - 2053

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Prince Jacaerys, the future heir to the Iron Throne," my brother pointed out, his grip on my arm uncomfortably tight. I winced, but he didn't release me until I forcefully pulled away, knowing a bruise would soon enough blossom beneath his fingers.

"What an incredible opportunity for him," I muttered under my breath, feeling his intense gaze drilling into me.

"Go, speak to him, charm him," he commanded, his voice cold and demanding. I suppressed a bitter laugh, knowing better than to provoke him further.

"What, the same way you tried to charm his mother at her brother's name day?" I retorted with thinly veiled sarcasm. His expression hardened into a mask of anger.

"You are a Lannister, a lioness. I trust you have enough wit to understand that becoming the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms will greatly benefit our house," he argued, his tone brooking no opposition.

"So you're willing to use your younger sister as a pawn for power?" I asked incredulously.

He smiled tightly, a chilling sight. "Precisely."

"Think of the freedom, the wealth, the power you will wield," he continued, his voice now dripping with manipulation. "Imagine the influence you will have, the decisions you can shape."

I took a steadying breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest at his callous disregard for my feelings. Instead, I focused on the potential benefits this alliance could bring, freedom from my brother's suffocating control and a position where I could assert my own influence.

"Fine, I will do what needs to be done, for the future of our house, of course," I forced out through gritted teeth. 

He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "Remember what happened the last time you disappointed me. Don't make me remind you again." 

The threat was clear, a shadow that hung over me, compelling me to move forward even as every instinct screamed at me to run.

His smile widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as his hands landed heavily on my shoulders. I fought the urge to flinch at his touch, steeling myself against the weight of his expectations.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

I smoothed the folds of my black and gold dress, a strategic choice, black to honour House Targaryen, with touches of gold to pay homage to my own lineage.

The neckline plunged in a daring V, the fabric draping elegantly off my shoulders, revealing the delicate curve of my collarbones. The dress was tailored to perfection, hugging every contour of my body, accentuating each curve.

Every detail was calculated, designed to catch his eye and draw him in.

As I stepped into the grand hall, the room seemed to pause. Conversations faltered, and eyes turned toward me, drawn by the magnetic pull of my presence. I could feel the weight of their gazes, curious, admiring, envious but I had eyes for only one person.

Prince Jacaerys stood near a towering column, his tall frame partly obscured. His eyes, dark and contemplative, met mine with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. Fidgeting with his wine goblet, he betrayed a shy demeanour in the way he shifted from foot to foot.

With deliberate grace, I manoeuvred through the crowd, acknowledging nobles who sought my attention with polite nods and smiles, yet never pausing long enough to engage deeply. 

Each step I took was a calculated move in the dance of seduction.

From the corner of my eye, I caught my brother's disapproving glare. His impatience and warning were palpable, urging me to expedite our plan. I simply disregarded his silent commands, understanding that our strategy hinged on subtlety and timing.

Just as I was about to reach the prince, a nobleman stepped into my path. Ser Alistair Blackwood, known throughout the realm for his charm and roguish ways, bowed low and extended his hand with a flourish.

"Lady Lannister, may I have the honour of a dance?" His voice dripped with insincere charm, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Suppressing my irritation, I smoothed a polite smile onto my lips. "Of course, Ser Alistair," I replied gracefully, taking his hand as the music swelled around us.

As we began to dance, I could feel Prince Jacaerys's eyes on us, his expression a mix of curiosity and discomfort. Perhaps this unexpected interruption could work in my favour.

Ser Alistair, emboldened by the attention, leaned in closer than propriety allowed.

"You are a vision tonight, my lady," he murmured, his warm breath tickling my ear. "Surely you must have countless suitors vying for your favour."

I chuckled softly, though my mind raced with annoyance. 

"Your words are kind, Ser Alistair," I replied diplomatically, subtly trying to maintain a respectable distance. "But I am here for more than mere flattery."

As the dance continued, Ser Alistair's hand on my waist tightened possessively, his intentions becoming increasingly clear. I stole a quick glance toward the Prince, silently pleading for him to intervene. 

The flicker of jealousy in his dark eyes was unmistakable, and a spark of hope ignited within me.

To my relief, he stepped forward, his usually shy demeanour overridden by a surge of determination. 

"May I cut in?" His voice, though firm, carried a polite gentleness.

Ser Alistair, momentarily taken aback by the prince's assertiveness, hesitated before gracefully conceding. "Of course, my prince," he replied, releasing me with a reluctant bow and stepping aside.

I placed my hand in Jacaerys's outstretched palm, feeling a flutter of anticipation as he led me into the next dance. His grip was gentle yet sure, his posture revealing a mix of nerves and resolve.

The dance floor, once merely a stage for courtly performances, now felt like the arena where fates intertwined and decisions were made.

"You look beautiful tonight, my lady," Jacaerys murmured, his voice soft but sincere as we began to move in rhythm.

"Thank you, my Prince," I replied warmly, letting my fingers linger against his for a moment longer than necessary, subtly conveying my appreciation.

As we danced, I maintained steady eye contact, my gaze inviting and warm. I could see him struggling to find his footing, both literally and figuratively. His shyness, far from being a hindrance, added an endearing charm to his demeanour, making him appear more genuine.

"Would you like to step outside for some fresh air?" he suggested after a brief pause, his voice tentative yet hopeful.

"That sounds lovely," I agreed, as I allowed him to lead me through the ornate corridors to a secluded part of the garden. 

As we stepped into the garden, the air was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, a sweet yet almost suffocating fragrance that clung to my senses. The night air greeted us with a cool embrace, a welcome contrast to the warmth and clamour of the crowded hall.

"May I fetch you a drink?" he offered, ever the gentleman, his eyes lingering on my face.

"Please," I replied, my voice soft yet composed, giving him a warm smile. 

As he walked away to fulfil my request, I stole a quick glance back at my brother. His eyes gleamed with approval, a smug smile playing on his lips. I took a deep breath, steadying myself for the pivotal moments to come.

When the prince returned with two goblets of wine, I accepted mine with a grateful nod. "Thank you, my prince," I said, my fingers brushing against his as I took the goblet.

"You're welcome," he replied, his blush deepening at our fleeting touch.

We stood amidst the tranquillity of the moonlit garden, shielded from the clamour of the celebration inside.

"It's so peaceful out here," I remarked, lifting the goblet to my lips for a sip of the wine.

"Yes, a welcome respite from all the noise," he agreed softly, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

Finding a stone bench bathed in the romantic glow of lantern light, we settled down side by side. I positioned myself close enough that our knees brushed lightly, a deliberate move to strengthen the burgeoning connection between us.

As our conversation flowed in the secluded serenity of the moonlit garden, I subtly orchestrated a moment of vulnerability. I noticed a small trinket dangling from my wrist. A delicate bracelet adorned with intricate silver filigree. 

With a subtle flick of my wrist, I let it slip from my fingers, the soft chime of metal meeting stone barely audible in the quiet night air.

"Oh!" I exclaimed softly, feigning surprise as the bracelet tumbled to the ground beside his feet.

Prince Jacaerys, ever the gentleman, reacted swiftly. "Allow me," he said with gentle concern, kneeling beside me to pick up the bracelet. His fingers brushed mine as he handed it back.

"Thank you, my prince," I murmured, meeting his gaze with a grateful smile. Our eyes locked for a lingering moment, the air between us charged with unspoken understanding.

"You're welcome," he replied warmly, his own smile mirroring mine as we sat in a comfortable silence.

"I've always admired your dedication to your house," I began in a hushed tone, allowing sincerity to colour my words. "It's a rare quality, especially in someone as young as you."

His gaze dropped modestly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Thank you," he replied humbly. "I do my best for my family and the realm."

"And it shows," I continued, letting my hand rest lightly on his knee, a gesture both comforting and intimate. "You possess a strength and nobility that may not always be apparent to others, but I see it clearly."

His eyes met mine, reflecting a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Do you really think so?" His voice was barely above a whisper, betraying his uncertainty.

"Absolutely," I affirmed with conviction, leaning in slightly closer. "That's why I believe you will make a great king one day. The realm needs someone with your vision and heart."

Our conversation flowed effortlessly, each word carrying a weight of intention as we navigated the dance of courtship and intrigue. Subtle touches and lingering glances punctuated our dialogue, drawing him further into the web I carefully spun.

"You're very kind," he murmured, his voice a soft admission of admiration. "And I must admit, you're also quite captivating."

"I'm glad you think so," I replied, allowing my hand to rest gently on his arm. "Because I've found myself quite taken with you as well, my prince."

His blush deepened, but he didn't shy away. Instead, he leaned closer, his eyes earnestly searching mine. 

"You have a way of making me feel at ease, my lady," he confessed. "Like I can truly be myself with you."

"And you can," I assured him, my voice tender with sincerity. "I'm here to support you in any way I can."

He exhaled softly, his gaze unwavering as he absorbed my words. "I appreciate that more than you know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you like to take a walk with me? I feel there's so much more I want to share with you."

"I'd love to," I replied warmly, a genuine smile lighting up my face. 

Rising gracefully, he offered his arm, which I accepted with a soft smile. Together, we ventured away from the bustling hall, choosing instead the quietude of moonlit paths in the garden.

As we walked, our conversation continued in hushed tones, weaving dreams and aspirations into the tapestry of the night. Prince Jacaerys spoke of his ambitions for the realm, his hopes for peace and prosperity. 

I listened attentively, offering encouragement and insights where I could, my presence a steady support.

"You have a way of making everything seem possible," he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration as we paused by a tranquil fountain.

"That's because it is," I replied softly, squeezing his arm gently. "With the right people by your side, there's nothing you can't achieve."

He turned to me then, his eyes reflecting gratitude and a growing fondness. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he confessed quietly.

"And I'm glad you are too," I replied sincerely, my voice soft with affection. "I believe we can accomplish great things together."

As we continued our stroll, the bond between us solidified with each step. I knew I had captivated him. The night had been a success, a carefully orchestrated dance of strategy and emotion. 

As we eventually parted ways, a promise hung in the air. A promise of alliances formed, of futures entwined, and of a destiny waiting to unfold.

A/n -  I need to start picking a different piece of jewllery to drop x

[heilos]

Living Harmony AU relevant character sheets/info: Harmony aka the "Tree of Harmony" Shadow Lock Somnambula Starswirl the Bearded Stygian might be my favorite of the Pillars of Equestria and it's always made me sad that he wasn't used more in the show. So I decided to team up with my new friend Orin who's taken the time to make a bunch of amazing Pillar redesigns (same person I made this Starswirl animation rig for as a gift) that i'll be incorporating into my future animation project. The Pillars are very important characters to Harmony's story so I wanna do them justice. Listed below is some context for these sketches provided by my friend Orin and some written bits from myself. This is a Stygian who's been separated from the Pony of Shadows for some time, but is now dealing with the consequences of dark magic. I've had so much fun throwing ideas back and forth for this AU and I can't wait to share more in the near future.

Unicorn from a small sea side village in ancient times

Dedicated scholar and battle strategist

Special talent is writing. An incredible wordsmith in his own right

Wrote a very popular autobiography about his time possessed by the Pony of Shadows called “Me and My Shadow” (his third novel)

Name means "dark and gloomy" and also relates to the river and deity "Styx" of Greek mythology

Brought the Pillars of Equestria together in a bid to save his home town from the Sirens (the Dazzlings)

Wanted to become a hero in his own right even though he tried to convince himself otherwise

Lacks the physical strength and magical prowess of his fellow Pillars. Compared to any other run of the mill unicorn, however, Stygian is actually decently above average in terms of magical ability, though he downplays himself significantly

Ousted from the group after a misunderstanding involving him taking the other pillar’s relics to make copies of them so he too could be a hero and join them as an equal. His friends thought he was out to steal their power instead

Becomes bitter and seeks revenge afterwards when discovering the Well of Shade, which leads to the Pony of Shadows claiming him as its vessel

Banished along with the pillars to “limbo” for 1000 years through a powerful spell conceived by Starswirl and planned out by the rest of the pillars

Is freed from the Pony of Shadows' influence in modern Equestria thanks to the Mane 6 and the pillars with Twilight and Starlight being the main catalyst in helping Stygian where Starswirl had failed before

While no longer claimed by the Pony of Shadows, the consequences of using such powerful dark magic as well as being possessed by a being of pure shadow left its mark on him

Has dark magic scarring visible on his body. His eyes, inner mouth, teeth and magic color are permanently altered in appearance. It gives him a rather unsettling aura, much to his displeasure

The Pony of Shadows mark is not so easily purged, even with the combined strength of the past and present Elements of Harmony. A fragment of the shadow lives on in Stygian, inextricably bound to him, but small enough that it can no longer influence him.

Has abilities superficially similar to King Sombra's, albeit on a much smaller scale, and needs extensive practice before he can comfortably wield this new strength.

Luna becomes Stygian's second mentor, after Starswirl, to help him gain control over his new abilities. Her direct experience using dark magic to become Nightmare Moon makes her an effective teacher

As Stygian exerts better control over the shadow fragment, he eventually gains the ability to "Shadow Walk" or travel between shadows. This temporary form makes him look eerily similar to the Pony of Shadows. Pretty spooky

Can tell when the Pony of Shadows is close in proximity due to the shadow fragment, like a magic tracker

Stygian is a lucid dreamer. He appreciates dreams a lot more now that he’s sleeping on a proper schedule. Once in a while he’ll meet up with Princess Luna in the dream realm when they can’t find spare time in the waking world, outside of mentoring sessions, to enjoy each other's company as friends

Stygian redesign by Orin331

[justblades]

⋆｡˚ ♰・dan heng imbibitor lunae x afab! reader

┈─ ・(ex)plicit, mdni. dragon fxcking, breeding, cervix kissing, horns stim. not proofread.

"higher elder, are you certain you want to do this?" a doubtful query rises in the midst of shared, saccharine, heated kisses, the higher elder continues to roam his slender fingers on your belly, teal hues fixating on your worry painted features.

he cracks a sheepish smile and lays a gentle touch on your cheek, fingers now extending to your brows, gesturing for you to peel your eyes open— to see him clearly. "i may not be the person you knew eons ago, but given that your warmth exudes that of a familiar makes me yearn for more."

your heart rate picks up and a squirm slips out once he applies more pressure on your pelvis, signaling for you to rock your hips on him faster . . . and harder as he could no longer contain his urges. it was evident from his beetling brows and heavy breaths.

dan heng never breaks the intimate eye contact in spite of the raging temptation coursing through his body, he just persists until he reaches his limit, finally ripping your sheer clothes with his power to wield crystalline waters - an enticing sight welcomes his vision the next second. "h-higher elder!" you were unsure what could a mere calling of his title do in this situation, but all you could deduce was it fueled his lust even more so than before.

your body trembles from the glacial wind blowing upon your dewed skin, glistening from faint aureate lights emitted from the higher elder's palace. dan heng was quick to catch on as he grabs ahold of your wrists and leans forward in, closing the gap slowly between your lustful bodies.

as he does so, pieces of the past flash in his mind like it was a puzzle - the face in front of him now being the very same one he used to share an intimate past with. he could envision everything, from the first moment he laid his eyes on your figure to the very last time the both of you locked gazes when he was exiled.

it has been a very long time.

dan heng glances at your features once more, focusing at every detail of your appearance that the past him had come to adore. "i apologize i kept you waiting for too long." his apologetic tone soothes your aching heart. "i've told you before that no matter what you do, i'll accept you back into my life with open arms."

there was a faint hesitation displaying over dan heng's expression. "however, i am not dan feng anymore. would that be alright with you?"

an action as a response would speak louder than words ever could, you thought. a burning kiss presses on his lips right after, tongues coming next as the dyad tangles in sync, relishing each other's flavors tinged with undying love despite of how many years have passed.

as if your bodies had come to a mutual understanding, basking in pleasure never felt better than before. dan heng flips you around, your naked back facing him now while he rises from his seat, a hand clutches the frame of your waist.

in frozen frames does he flick his wet tongue on your body, tracing lines depending on what earns the most satisfaction judging from the mewls continually slipping out of your lush lips. your knees shake underneath his feathery, light touches — it was clear as a day that he's enjoying your reaction, savoring how you're incredibly sensitive with minimum efforts.

"hah . . d-dan heng . . not your tongue." you protest in the midst of the teasing but as anticipated, he doesn't halt. if anything, he goes deeper down your body, eventually reaching the peeking folds from your ass cheeks. a foreign sensation wells inside you, a searing flame burns bright within.

your body stature wavers, he wanted to see more. the male then gives kitty licks on your flesh, a muffled moan escapes the margins of your lips, he wanted to hear more. he proceeds to prod two digits into your slit, goosebumps ride on your skin. he wanted to feel more.

cloudy white liquids glaze his fingers at the very last thrust while you gasp for air, unable to keep up with the events unfolding. as you were getting lost and tangled in your own thoughts, something brushes past the soft surface of your damp skin. it was long and textured, its temperature the similar with your heating region.

you look back at the higher elder only to be welcomed by his erect dick, twitching in intervals, aching for it to prod through your entrance. your eyes widen into two full moons but little did you know the male was delighted to see you bask at the sight of his cock.

"raise your ass up." a singular order was all it took for you to obey like a second-in-command. you follow suit to his request and bent yourself over on the table across, perking your cheeks in the air - waiting for it to be accompanied.

dan heng inches closer and rubs the tip of his dick right on your sopping wet slit, meriting you his melodic mewls of pleasure and muses of fascination. "let's take it slow from here on." a part of you begs to disagree but you were already drowning in a cesspool of satisfaction. you could no longer form any coherent thoughts but just let out lewd noises alongside him like an animal in heat.

with what minutes felt like light years, he finally slips it in— with ease and intense yearning. the male grits his teeth as he pulls out and pounds back in with force of a tenfold, your body twitches and look back at him with confusion painted all over your expression. "i-i thought we'll take it slow?"

as unbelievable as it is to hear him let out a hoarse chuckle in this situation, "i underestimated my restraint. i keep wanting for more of you." he responds with composure and jackhammers into your pussy at this point in time, emitting naughty, splotching sounds everytime his cock meets with your walls.

every time he kisses the far ends of your cervix, your walls clench around his shape, remembering every detail that undoubtedly drove the higher elder crazy. "hah . . i'm feeling too good . . you tighten up when i do that." he mumbles under his hot, deep breaths.

dan heng proceeds to fill you up until there's no more of anything that can disrupt your rhythmic pace shared alongside him. he persists to thrust in and out of you faster than ever, but something feels rather amiss. something feels different.

"why does it feel like you're getting bigger?" you ask as you racked your head for any idea as to why. "you finally noticed." he responds, licking his lips in anticipation, watching on the beads of sweat racing down your naked skin. "—it's to prevent the female from escaping."

your energy begins to dissipate and as for your body, it felt lethargic and heavy that you could no longer keep yourself up, thus making you drop down on the glossy tabletop. fortunately, dan heng catches your figure before you meet your own fall, he turns you around, piercing ablaze eyes sharing a passionate gaze once again. "i understand, your body can't keep up anymore. just do as i say and everything will be okay." his words were laced with affection, the mien on his face looked sweet and serene.

he casts you a worried look but a lustful one all at the same. when suddenly, with one quick movement, your bare back now sinks in the soft cushions of a mattress — while your lover was atop your messed figure. his azure irises were beaming with intense fervor, "caress my horns."

you do not bother questioning but abided as always with his request as it has been like that since day one. your weak hands raise in the air to reach for the peculiar attributes the higher elder bore to which dan heng lowers his head to make it easier for you. slowly by slowly, you gently touch dan heng's translucent, turquoise gradient hued horns, gliding your fingers on the golden rings, and on to the shaft.

his hands wrap around yours suit, guiding your touch to where it feels the best to be caressed. the suspense was killing him yet it felt gratifying. "mm . . more." he muses and you obey— stroking his characteristics gently yet in a quick pace. your fingers coil around the small branches of his horns that stuck out, dan heng groans, feeling his climax nearing soon.

at the same time, he quickly lets go and fondles your bare tits, while his other free hand's digits fiddles with the clit. your back arches with pleasure to which the male accepts with gratitude, sucking your breast as he nestles the erect tips in between his teeth. he grinds his teeth and toys your hard nipples with his wet tongue in intervals, making your eyes roll far back from the foreign sensation welling up in your stomach.

on the spur of the moment, numerous strings of white cum sprawls out onto your body. the amount seemed rather bizarre as you looked to check . . . you saw two cocks from the same part, both hardened, erect as prominent veins adorn them both. "t-two?" you ask, brows furrowed at the unfamiliar sight.

dan heng pauses for a moment, feeling abashed at how your reaction. he heaves a deep sigh before responding. "yes, this is a state we enter when basking in incredible amounts of pleasure." he replies as a matter of fact, now cleaning up his own cum staining your body with his fingers and tongue. as he watches on you about what's the next course of action, a doubtful look lingers on your features. "what's wrong?"

"i don't think i can take it . ." the raven haired stops briefly to give you a reassuring smile. "don't worry, i'll be gentle until you can finally take all of me in." dan heng says, a dulcet tone underlying his sentence.

he presses a quick peck on your forehead and pats your head for a second, "this will feel good." dan heng leans forward to your body and strokes both his cocks with the help of his hands.

watching the male pleasure himself right in front of you: noticing his jaw tightening and supple thighs flinching, a sudden longing brews in the depths of your body to which your slit aches to feel more of his dick inside you, succumbing to your desires felt like the right thing to do. dan heng seemed so beautiful yet scary from what he can do.

and now here you wound up, facing his pair with a lewd expression carved all over your face. you poke your slick tongue out and brush it on his shaft, while your hands do the work on the other cock, caressing and stroking it in turns - earning dan heng's guttural moans bubbling from his throat.

his gloved hands then tangle themselves from the locks of your hair, he guides your mouth as you now lap all his length, bobbing your head up and down. your wet cavern provides the best makeshift of a vacuum sensation, he slowly rocks his hip, matching your pace, his tip eventually hitting the farthest places of your throat. "ah — okay, that's enough. . you did well."

the male cups your cheeks and makes you stop, the smeared pre cum and saliva over your lips makes the sight of you all the more endearing. he shifts his position and rests against the sofa's back cushions, helping you get up as well and place your slit adjacent to his two dicks.

as you grind your pelvis and guide his other cock with a hand to your other hole, with a slight push, both his erection were quickly clenched around by your two velvet walls. "ah! too big . ." you wail and rest your head against the chiseled plane of his chest, and dan heng pulls you into a tight embrace.

"it's okay, your body will adjust." he says, leaving another heating yet short lived kiss on your cheek. you remain still on your position, taking time to bask in the warmth both his cocks exude while sucked inside you.

there's no rush. after all, you have the night for yourselves to indulge in such carnal desires. as you expected, deeds like this indeed feel better when it's with your lover. a lover whose face you could only remember with the faintest memory, which now feels like complete victory as you two are finally reunited. you've long waited for this moment.

"i think . . i feel better compared to earlier. you may do so as you please now."

with a go signal, he clutches his hands on your arms and pounces into your pussy, once again meeting the far ends of your womb like crazy. your breaths become hitched and deep the longer the session continued, it's as if a switch is toggled in his behavior: you could point out the stark contrast between his instincts as a dragon and a human, a desire to care and protect and a desire to breed and devour.

but surprisingly, his sudden roughness always felt rather satisfying, dan heng is the equilibrium your life has looked for in a millennia. as you look at the higher elder, he was already staring brazenly at your lewd expressions and body, your mounds continuing to bounce up and down, as well as liquids of arousal seeping out like a maniac.

"you're too beautiful that i want to leave my mark on you . . you're way too beautiful that i want to drill into your womb who you'll only belong to." he says out of the blue, obvious thirst adorns his words. 

"do it then, plant your seed inside me, do whatever you want to me."

his aquamarine eyes widen in surprise, incandescent pupils dilating. "are you sure? anything i want to do to you?" he reiterates and you nod in agreement. "yes, anything."

"i won't be as gentle as i was before."

[dontwinmarioparty]

Smosh Cast as Pokémon Trainers

Your Rival: Trevor Evarts!

As the newest cast member of Smosh, it may feel like big, intimidating shoes to fill. We all know Trevor’s got the stuff for it, but really coming into your own comedic identity may feel like a challenge.

Partner Pokémon: Applin full team: dipplin, mr rime, quagsire, pangoro, slowking, emboar

Gym 1: Amanda Lehan Canto - Water Type

I've never seen such a good yes-and ability in improv than Amanda, you can tell that she's always down to turn any moment into a good time. Her acting talents spread far and wide, but her life experiences beyond that baffle me. The fact she loves scuba diving was the nail in the coffin for me that she's a master of the water type.

Partner Pokémon: Azumarill full team: azumarill, milotic, floatzel, mareanie, dracovish, starmie

Gym 2: Olivia Sui - Grass Type

Grass is a versatile and varied type, with the vibes of some Pokémon being serene and graceful to Rapidly Approaching Your Location, and Olivia fits that to me. She’s incredibly sweet and affectionate with her friends but is fully willing to commit to a bit and confuse the audience.

Partner Pokémon: Cherrim full team: cherrim, tangrowth, shiftry, lurantis, ferrothorn, whimsicott

Gym 3: Chanse McCrary - Fire Type

Chanse has an edge to him that I could see absolutely light up a battlefield. He’s not afraid to flex and show off during a competitive game, which sometimes leads to his downfall, but never takes back from his intelligence and just overall confidence. He’s got the X factor, which takes perfectly to the fire type.

Partner Pokémon: Blaziken full team: blaziken, skeledirge, volcarona, oricorio, ninetales, delphox

Gym 4: Tommy Bowe - Normal Type

Tommy had a point when he said that the Normal type is filled with a lot of Weird Looking Fellas, and I agree with that, but the normal type also calls for versatility, reliability. Having type immunities and only one weakness makes it a type that’s able to reliably stand on its own legs. With the many hats that Tommy has worn over the years at Smosh, the Normal type makes so much sense.

Partner Pokémon: Porygon-Z full team: porygon-z, audino, ditto, cinccino, lickilicky, drampa

Gym 5: Damien Haas - Ghost Type

Damien’s appearance alone would make the hounds be sent after me if I didn’t put him into the Ghost Type. Though intimidating on the surface, the ghost type, once you get past the hesitation, is full of some of the sweetest Pokémon you’ll ever get to meet. Consistently bringing fan favorites to new games with every generation, I can’t help but be reminded of Damien’s affinity for the spooky and alternative despite everything else about him being so gentle. He deserves the ghost type, and the ghost type deserves him.

Partner Pokémon: Chandelure full team: chandelure, gengar, rotom, cofagrigus, aegislash, sinistcha

Gym 6: Angela Giarratana - Dragon Type

The dragon type is powerful, it’s dominating, but it’s also chaotic, hard to wield, and sometimes outright terrifying. Angela being a dragon tamer makes so much sense to me, personally. Her ability to command a room either willingly or by complete accident with a mistake of word-choice never fails to make me laugh and feel hooked to the screen. Just put a big dragon next to her and that’s only amplified.

Partner Pokémon: Tyrantrum full team: tyrantrum, duraludon, noivern, goodra, alolan exeggutor, dracozolt

Gym 7: Arasha Lalani - Flying Type.

Arasha never fails to surprise me with just how above and beyond she goes in any video. No matter how crazy it gets she’s not afraid to yes-and the vibe and enable the chaos in a room. It makes her a fantastic host. She’s going to soar. She’s going to book a marvel movie. Trust me.

Partner Pokémon: Altaria full team: altaria, crobat, archeops, emolga, tropius, bombirdier

Gym 8: Keith Leak Jr - Electric Type

Keith is insanely underrated in the Smosh cast, and I sincerely believe that the OG Smosh Squad would not be the same without him. He consistently bounces between being a straight-man in a lineup to the most insane within seconds. Down to just his fits every single day, and the fact that he BEAT CANCER??? He’s always got me on my toes. He’s Electric.

Partner Pokémon: Zebstrika full team: zebstrika, alolan raichu, ampharos, luxray, toxtricity, pawmot

Team Rocket (or any evil team) Leader: Spencer Agnew - Dark Type

How could this be possible? The chosen?!! Evil? No..I just ran out of gym leader slots and thought it would be compelling lol. Spencer is a mastermind of comedy both in front of the camera and behind it. He’s funny without necessarily even trying, but yet it always comes across as mischievous, chaos, the most out-of-pocket lines you’ve ever heard. He’s clearly such a good guy, but the dark type, at least to my belief, fits the vibe he brings to the cast so perfectly.

Partner Pokémon: Kingambit full team: kingambit, krookodile, obstagoon, weavile, absol, sableye

The Elite Four:

Before you face the champion, you must go through a gauntlet of four of the strongest trainers in the region. Who might this be?

Courtney Miller - Fairy Type

A directorial mastermind, a comedic powerhouse, and overall just slaying boots the house down, Courtney Miller is nothing short of magical. She breathes a life into Smosh that just leaves me knowing for certain that some of our favorite videos would not be the same without her influence. Her ability to sway from one comedic extreme to another, while still showing that sincerity makes her just such a good fit for the fairy type.

Partner Pokémon: Florges full team: florges, sylveon, mawile, grimmsnarl, primarina, gardevoir

Anthony Padilla - Fighting Type

Our local emo boy. Our local “spent a day with everyone” boy. Someone who we were all overjoyed to have back. Not only being an absolute comedic powerhouse, he proves himself to be a jack of all stoic trades, from painting, to yoga, to starting Smosh with computer programming, his path of self-actualization is one to be admired.

Partner Pokémon: Breloom full team: breloom, toxicroak, scrafty, poliwrath, kommo-o, hitmontop

Shayne Topp - Psychic Type

Without a shadow of a doubt, Shayne has shown that (even if partially for a bit), he listens, he cares, and he hopes for the best for Smosh as a company. His energy in videos and being able to match the vibe of almost anyone that he’s paired with is nothing short of miraculous. He’s psychic. Full stop.

Partner Pokémon: Gallade full team: gallade, meowstic, darmanitan, oranguru, alakazam, reuniclus

Ian Hecox - Ground Type

For almost any cast member you could argue that they’re breathing life into Smosh. But I think one deserving of the title of keeping their feet planted is Ian. The way he showed so much resolve during the fall of Defy, carrying the company through Mythical, and stepping up and taking the operation independent again with Anthony shows nothing short of an incredible amount of dedication. Ground type fits him to me. Earthquake is always on a competitive team somewhere.

Partner Pokémon: Garchomp full team: garchomp, alolan dugtrio, marowak, stunfisk, mamoswine, gastrodon

The Champion….

The Chosen

Being the strongest Pokémon trainer of all time is a big, burdening task…but they are shoes which The Chosen is ready to fill. Using every single one of his special techniques, he will be a tough challenge. Are you ready to face it?

Partner Pokémon: Absol full team: absol, darkrai, lucario, zoroark, lycanroc, partner pokemon of whoever is playing the chosen at the time of the encounter

and at long last, you've done it. You're the Champion of the Smosh Pokemon League! Congratulations!!!

[tossawary]

I do like time travel fics for a variety of reasons. It can be fun to see a "perfect run" fix-it fic running through the canon storyline again. There is a little suspension of disbelief required for some of them, because at some point, the little changes for the better or big tragedies averted should start to mess with the world. Very good time travel fics take this Butterfly Effect into account.

It is VERY fun to think about time-traveling characters who immediately break the plot, because they fail to or don't even try to keep things on a certain track. I love seeing authors use this jumping point to explore entirely new directions for canon. It's off-roading time!!!

Some characters are happy to work within the systems of their worlds. They'll put up with the little indignities of having do to things again and are able to act their way through a redo. (And apparently have incredibly good memories, like, damn.) The cost of keeping things roughly the same is something that they're willing to pay in order to reap specific benefits at the end of the journey.

Other characters would prefer to break the systems of their worlds. They have no patience to play by someone else's rules if they have the power to do otherwise. They may think that the world is broken as it is and needs to be changed. They may be unable to let certain injustices happen again no matter the cost to their ability to predict the future. (I admit, I have a preference for this, because I think it's more interesting, and if the protagonist is a heroic figure, I like the idea that every single life is worth trying to save if you can try.)

Anyway, this is all to say that I just read the last 100 chapters of "Naruto" and apparently Naruto was the only person keeping Sasuke from following through on his unhinged and vague supervillain plans at the end there. If you sent Sasuke back into the past, let's say from a battle with Kaguya going poorly back to the Uchiha massacre or something, and he retains his adult body or any of his abilities (full Sharingan + Rinnegan)? I cannot see that Sasuke trying to give Konoha a shot again. I don't think he trusts like that anymore.

I think he would immediately 1) kill Itachi if Itachi forces him to do it and he can't convince Itachi to join his side, 2) kill Danzo and any ROOT agents who get in his way, (2.5) kill Zetsu and Madara if he can find and catch them, and also Obito if Obito forces him,) 3) kill or try to kill the Third Hokage, and potentially 4) try to declare himself the new Fifth Hokage. Winning a lot of these fights just by taking eeeeeverybody by surprise. Or something like that, you know? I think he'd at least try to immediately do some reckless revenge murder.

If time-traveling Sasuke is stuck in his child body for a redo, and can't set himself up as the new dictator of Konoha or the new shared enemy of the shinobi world or whatever, then I think that he might just run off and join Orochimaru again. I think he would make early deals with Orochimaru for the relative freedom that offers.

Like, Sasuke just does not strike me as a particularly stable person who gives a shit about maintaining a comfortable life for everyone around him. He does not care about Konoha's image. He does not want to settle complacently into a comfortable life within this corrupt state. I think he'd rather drag out the rot and set everything on fire than sit through the frustrating false civility of politics or go to school again, if he had any choice in the matter.

A time-traveling Sasuke would not behave like a time-traveling Naruto or Sakura! So, if I had to do a time-traveling Sasuke, I'd probably reach for the "break-it" rather than the "fix-it". Konoha struggles to deal with this new, mysterious, Rinnegan-wielding Uchiha who appeared out of the middle of an incomplete massacre, just killed the Hokage, and declared himself the new one, completing the Uchiha coup at the eleventh hour. (People are saying he looks like Uchiha Izuna come back to life, apparently???) Oh, shit, someone secretly go get Tsunade and Jiraiya right now, fuck.

[sugar-grigri]

Fujimoto has never talked so much about love as in this chapter 

This chapter is incredible, not only for the multitude of answers it offers but also for the beauty of its writing on first reading alone. 

It opens with a man who appeared in chapter 101 of CSM, as passers-by passively walked past him, this stranger was actually right: humans, one of whose major causes of death are demons, are leading to a cold war (ironic to talk about a Cold War for a manga set in the 90s)

But it's as if the whole of society refuses to notice, that everyone hides behind Chainsaw Man and consumes all these derivative products like lucky charms. Chainsaw Man embodies a demonic anomaly, a demon at the service of the people who make them forget this war. 

And that's exactly why Yoru has a grudge against him. Chainsaw Man is an instrument of peace, wielded in times of peace and sacrificed in times of war. Chainsaw Man is there to make us forget the conflicts or become the scapegoat, in either case, he is there to make us forget the war in which humanity is trapped.

A machine into which all hopes are projected, cries of suffering directed, whose childlike quality is seen only by the predators who exploit him constantly. 

What we need to see in this dialogue between Nayuta and Fumiko is a struggle for domination. As we have seen, Fumiko is someone who, despite her aggressions, drowns them in a constantly contradictory protection: she wants to protect a child, but moleste Denji, plays a game in which she places him as older in order to hide her predation, and has saviour syndrome.

Fumiko thinks she's easily understood the nature of weapons, she's sensitive to Quanxi's bodily sacrifices and only repeats to the one she's abusing like an unrestrained fan of a child. Fumiko is the symbol that even when she belongs to the same camp as those she intends to protect, she still can't understand them.

She thinks it's either Nayuta who finds humans weak, or the fact that Barem supports Denji's demonic quality, that they are threats to his well-being when they are the ones who know him best. This is normal, because the strategy of public hunters is to bank on Denji's human side, but this strategy is not enough.

In chapters 136 and 137, Denji is mistreated when he's playing as a human being, getting into fights at school, being treated badly by his teachers, molested when he was thinking about a date at the cinema, and the closer he gets to normality, the more he suffers.

She symbolises not only Denji's sexual trauma, but also the paradox of the hunter system: a system that intends to offer Denji a family framework, but which is not only failing but also traumatising.

Nayuta says she wouldn't kill humans because they're weak compared to demons anyway. It would be as boring as killing ants! It's a continuation of Makima's point that the demon of control isn't interested in things that can be mobilised or easily controlled, it's powerful demons like Pochita that she wouldn't be able to control. Because the only way to establish a link for this demon is to find a demon as powerful as her, of her rank. Nayuta's superiority complex is always balanced against Denji's inferiority complex.

While the demon of control is only interested in demons, the demon who was martyred by humans cannot conceive of himself without them, but we'll come back to that later. 

I just want to point something out: isn't it paradoxical to reproach Denji for the education he gives Nayuta when Fumiko is supposed to regard him, as she claims, as a child? Once again, Fumiko is in constant contradiction, protecting by controlling and attacking, conceiving of a child as an adult, she is the hold over a child she can't help but see as a weapon while vouching for his condition. 

What's more, Fumiko's thinking is purely human, not universal like Denji and Nayuta. For them, feeding the dogs and their cat is a mission of the utmost necessity, it's like acting to protect one's family, whereas Fumiko refutes this.

Denji has been considered a dog for part of his life, and has bonded and merged with a demon in the shape of a dog, which is the first form of love he received: it was not humans who first gave Denji love, but animals. In the same way, the demon of control likes to form a relationship with dogs who take pleasure in their domestication, either as a form of denunciation or as a clearly established hierarchy. 

Fumiko proves that human sensitivity only stops at their peers, while the rarer demonic sensitivity is more universal and intense, whether it's treating animals as precious beings or forgiving unforgivable acts like Denji's continued love for Makima.

The fact that Denji and Nayuta appear to have no moral barriers is what allows them not to be prisoners of their own, and to conceive of love more extensively, whether it be harmful or inter-species. 

All this just goes to prove Barem's point that, as a weapon, he has a very good understanding of the different species and what they have in common: death is what binds us together.

When humans no longer find interest in a figure, it is destruction that attracts them. In other words, it's intrinsic to them. Even when they have been spared the demon of fire, they intend to spread it. Isn't it ironic, then, that Fumiko intends to protect two demons at the expense of their animals? Humans only see the world in terms of hierarchy, whereas demons and animals recognise that there is more to it than just a food chain. 

Nayuta's emphasis on the exhilaration that comes from abusing and killing demons is spot on. In chapter 137, Denji had fun beating up all those men, even concluding that "this" normal life wasn't so bad. Why was that? Because it's the daily life of a demon.

Denji, who belongs to both camps, has human needs just as much as he has demonic needs, so Nayuta has a point. But just as living solely as a human doesn't satisfy Denji, acting solely as a demon doesn't work any better. 

Denji works through the concrete, through sensations, and what he materialises through his senses, the fact being that he's had at least one kiss without any major damage with a human his own age.

Just a harmless touch is what allows Denji to connect with humanity as a whole, to be sensitive to their plight, even though he has no morals and takes pleasure in human suffering.

It wasn't until Denji struck up a relationship with Aki and Power for the first time that he was able to feel human and stop feeling like an animal. We are empathetic to the fate of those who resemble us, Denji is a universal being, animal, human and demon, he is the one who brings these different worlds together. Barem is right: death is what binds species together. But Pochita and Denji are the symbol that love can also be a common denominator. 

The fact that he thinks of Asa is symbolic because, without knowing it, she is the one who understood the plurality of species in Denji. She began by dehumanising him, Denji's animal phase, placing him below the cat (proof that she too places animals before men), then she had budding feelings for Denji before being disturbed by Chainsaw Man. 

That's why Chapter 101 is so important to understanding this chapter: because in it, Asa makes friends with both humans and demons, getting to know Yuko just as she does Yoru. She is not outraged by the idea of killing, as Yoru asks her to do, having put aside her human nature and accepted the world as it is, which is ruled by death.

But she is no fatalist, and in the face of a demon, she protects Yuko, continuing to love despite her mistakes "as long as her heart is in the right place". What matters is not so much our actions as the cursor through which we place ourselves to apprehend the world. 

Relationships are full of mistakes, imperfections, misunderstandings and a game of dominance. Denji doesn't realise it, but the one who kissed him wasn't Asa but Yoru, and it was for a bad purpose: to turn him into a weapon. Paradoxically, in wanting to make Denji a weapon, Yoru conceived him as he was, a hybrid being, a weapon. It was the first kiss in which he was seen for what he was.

But not only that, just as Asa loves the different natures of the multi-species being that is Denji, so Denji loves Asa's dual nature, what holds him together is as much the memory of the human in the aquarium as the physical contact with the demon inside her.

While Asa, in her desire to protect Denji, was distancing herself from him, hurting him and making him doubt himself, it was paradoxically the demon, with evil intentions, who gave him some peace of mind.

The chapter is called Devil's choice, an expression which means that we only have two choices, that we can't have everything. In this case, that would mean choosing a species, a side. But what Asa and Denji still represent in this Shakespearean symbolism is not belonging to any side, but loving in a universal way.

The rejection of men has opened up other perspectives for both of them, be it the animal or the demonic connection. 

Once again, the answer lies in plurality, in what begins with two: Asa and Denji decide, on the contrary, to have it all, there is no Devil's choice. 

By deciding to bond with animals rather than humans when they lost their parents, Asa and Denji forged a destiny guided by love without barriers.

Their bad experiences - sexual harassment for Denji and bullying at school for Asa - at the hands of adults have naturally created a distrust of humanity that is rekindled by contact between the two of them. It's when Denji and Asa come together that they regain hope, because they are the definition of loving each other fully.

Those who stand in the way of this universal love are the public hunters who avoid this natural crossing.

The public hunters are there precisely to fuel the fight against humans and demons, the link they carry is not love but the other common denominator, death, destruction. Even if it means crossing the moral barrier to exploit children with Yoshida by forcing them to harm other children like Asa, Fumiko being once again the symbol of this danger.

Denji has both human and demonic needs, so he's destined to love Asa because she's both human and harbours a demon with a thirst for violence. Chainsaw Man was used to make us forget the war, but by loving the demon of war, they both unravel.

Only Chainsaw Man and the demon of war can conquer death, because love is the second common denominator that links the species. Why? Because everyone has a heart. Even demons. Who not only have one, but become one.

[cece693]

Hiiii

I recently saw your fanfic of Percy with son of Demeter reader and I was wondering if you could write a fanfic of like how the 2 met/how they started dating

Daisy (Percy Jackson x Son of Demeter)

Wow, I wasn't expecting so much love for my son of Demeter headcannon/fanfic. TBH, I haven't thought much about how they would meet and the lead-up to their relationship, however, I think it came out nice. Hope you enjoy it!

Percy had always heard whispers of the son of Demeter. However, your paths wouldn’t cross until Grover began his search for Pan, the lost god of the wild. Since you were the son of the goddess of harvest—and, to some extent, wilderness and wildlife—you were quickly asked to join their quest.

When you first met Percy, it was clear that you two didn’t really hit it off. What did you even have in common, aside from your mutual friendship with Grover? Your powers weren't exactly on the same field, in fact, they contradicted on another.

How would one grow plants with sea water anyway? Your initial encounters were awkward, filled with hesitant exchanges and misunderstandings.

These differences led to quite a few conflicts between the two of you—not only were your powers different, but your personalities clashed as well. Percy, always ready for a fight, relied on his sword and his natural inclination to dive headfirst into danger.

You, on the other hand, preferred a more strategic approach. Your method was to analyze situations carefully, using your knowledge of nature and the environment to find solutions. While you knew how to wield a weapon, you often sought to avoid confrontation, believing that there was always a way to resolve problems without resorting to violence.

You called him reckless plenty of times, while he hinted your 'hesitation' as a drawback for the quest.

The growing tension between you didn’t go unnoticed by Grover, who often tried to mediate, cracking jokes and redirecting the conversation whenever you two began to butt heads.

It was during one of those moments—when Percy had charged ahead to fight a monster, leaving you to cover his back—that you began to see glimpses of the strengths each of you brought to the quest.

This change in mindset brought you two closer, evolving your relationship from mere acquaintances to something resembling friendship. Then that friendship soon becomes you two being best friends as the quest comes to a close.

This is where Percy fucks up....

Because as he watches you tend to one of the many plants in Camp Half-Blood, kneeling in the dirt with the sun shinning brightly above you, Percy suddenly finds you beautiful.

The way your e/c eyes sparkle with tenderness as you speak to the plants as if they were old friends, coaxing blooms to open with your gentle words. The sight was captivating; the way you interacted with nature stirred something deep within him.

Percy couldn’t help but admire the serenity you exuded, and for the first time, he began to realize that his feelings for you had shifted beyond friendship.

Of course, after this realization, he runs off in search of Grover, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Grover!” Percy exclaimed, eyes wide with urgency. “I think I have a problem.” Taking a deep breath, the words tumbled out in a rush. “It’s about [Your Name]. I mean, I knew we were getting closer, but watching him with the plants...It’s like he’s in his element, and I can’t stop thinking about how incredible he is.” His heart raced as he spoke, the realization hitting him like a wave crashing against the shore. “I think I like him—like, really like him. More than just friends.”

Grover’s eyes lit up, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Finally! I was wondering when you’d catch on. You should tell him!”

“But what if it ruins our friendship?”

“You won’t know unless you try,” Grover urged, his tone encouraging. “And even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, he's your friend. He'll understand."

Of course, Percy didn’t follow through with Grover’s advice right away. Instead, he decided to wait, hoping for any sign of interest from you before making his crush known.

Then, one sunny afternoon, he stumbled upon you laughing and hanging out with a son of Apollo. You were seated on the grass, surrounded by blooming flowers, the sunlight enhancing your already radiant presence. The boy’s charming demeanor and easy laughter seemed to draw you in, and Percy’s heart sank as he watched from a distance.

It was painfully clear in that moment—this boy was everything you deserved. After all, who wouldn’t want to be with the child of Apollo? He was the perfect match for a son of Demeter: sun, plants, growth, and all things flourishing.

Percy’s chest tightened as jealousy surged through him, mixing with a sense of hopelessness. He concluded that it was no use; you clearly had found someone else, someone who could nurture the garden of your heart better than he ever could.

With that thought, he began to create distance between you two, forcing himself to suppress his feelings to maintain the friendship he had grown to cherish. He convinced himself that being your friend was better than risking everything for something that would never be.

Unbeknownst to him, you noticed the sudden coldness in Percy’s demeanor. At first, you thought it was just a phase—perhaps he was dealing with something personal—but as days turned into weeks, his absence felt more like a gaping hole in your life.

As you tried to engage him, Percy would respond with short answers, avoiding any conversation that might bring you closer. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and worry gnawed at you. Did you say something wrong? Was he upset about something that you did?

Every time you spotted him with his friends, laughing and joking, a pang of disappointment shot through you. Why was he pushing you away? You longed to reach out, to bridge the distance he had created, but you didn’t know how to break through the wall he had built around himself.

The perfect opportunity presented itself when you found the son of Poseidon sitting by the lake, tossing pebbles mindlesly across the water.

“Percy,” you called out, taking a deep breath as you approached him. He looked up, surprise flashing across his face. “Can we talk?”

He nodded, but the unease lingered in the air as you sat down beside him. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been distant lately, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve done something to upset you.”

Percy hesitated, his expression conflicted as he searched for the right words. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not you. It’s me,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you and the son of Apollo were…I don’t know, more than friends. And it just hurt to see you so happy with him. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “Percy, we’re just friends! I never dated him,” You took a breath and decided to be honest. “I like you, Percy. I’ve liked you for a while now. I didn’t know how to say it, and then seeing you pull away…it hurt.”

His eyes widened in surprise, a spark of hope igniting in his expression. “You like me?” he asked, disbelief mingling with excitement.

You nodded, a shy smile breaking through your earlier frustration. “Yeah, I do. I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way, so I didn’t say anything.”

Relief washed over him, and a grin spread across his face. “I thought I was the only one. I’ve been such an idiot for not saying anything sooner.” With a mix of laughter and newfound courage, Percy reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “So, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to.”

[cadence-the-hypnotic-floret]

HDG and BPD

So Human Domestication Guide, as a setting, is very much built as comfort food for mentally ill, disabled trans folks (not judging, I'm at least two mentally ill sophonts 🤭), but one bit that didn't quite shine through to me until a moment ago is the Borderline Personality Disorder connection. More specifically, the "favorite person" phenomenon.

A floret's affini is their favorite person. They are utterly dependent on their owner, including on an interpersonal level. Thanks to biorhythms, the floret can feel what their owner feels, in a very deep, visceral way that directly influences their emotional state. They are desperate for praise and acceptance, the worst thing imaginable to them is disappointing their owner, and they often spend time gazing up at their owner in a hazy bliss, as though watching an angelic figure and being awestruck by their beauty as the rest of the world decoheres around them.

In turn, the affini is the perfect caretaker for their floret. The influence they wield over the person who adores them is typically clear and intentional. They promise to never abandon you, and they mean it in ways a real person never could, and can force you to believe them. They actually will take all that pain away from you. When you look upon them as larger-than-life, idealized entities, you're not so much putting them on a pedestal they couldn't live up to as you are accurately describing your relationship to them, and they foster that view intentionally and accurately. There is no equality between Terran and Affini.

This is, to put it bluntly, a relationship dynamic I am deeply familiar with. I have stared at someone for minutes at a time, certain that they have a halo and can do no wrong. I drove that same person away in no small part because the version of them that existed in reality kept chafing against the idea of them I was too infatuated with to get rid of. I have caught myself entering that same dangerous emotional spiral with a fellow author I've been collaborating with, thankfully quite early on.

A few harsh reminders seem necessary here.

If you seek the kind of mindless surrender a floret has from another sophont, check to make sure that the sophont you seek that from is aware of this, and make sure that you are seeing them, the person, not merely an afterimage in your head. Be careful! This dynamic is rife with opportunities for self-delusion and manipulation, and often, you cannot trust your rational brain to handle it well. I want nothing more than the absolution hinted at in Anathema in Blue chapter 4... But it would be deeply unhealthy and unethical to seek that out without dealing with some of my own baggage, or saddling the author with my perception of her author insert character.

If you are on the other side of this dynamic, particularly if you have the brand of narcissism that makes you want that kind of mindless adulation (typically talking about "Worship Kink" is a sign that you might wanna take stock, speaking from experience here), make sure you're aware of the dangerous power differential, and make sure your partner is aware of these warning signs. Being on the receiving end of an FP relationship can be incredibly rough, especially once you start to diverge from the idea of you they had in their head.

Oof. Not fun stuff.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to making a worship file based on Anathema in Blue chapter 4, because frankly this bee isn't leaving my bonnet until I process it. Have you read Anathema in Blue? Lady Lysanthae is bae.

🥰

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hi! May I please request some angst?

Marcille,Falin, and Laios (separate) with an isekai'd terminally ill s/o who needs to go back to their world in order to get treatment, since their disease is incredibly advanced, by their standards, and not easy for magic to handle.

However, the three want to save their s/o, but at the same time doesn't want them to go back to their world.

Aye a somber request but one i can do. After All, The whole worlds a stage. For some it is a comedy, Others an adventure, and yet still for others it is a tragedy. But all must play there part one way or another.

When you first arrived marcille was in awe, Not only did another entire reality exist, but you had apparently somehow been teleported from there?! She had questioned you for hours about the world, about what it was like. Fascinated that it was a world of technology in a vaguely similar fashion to the dwarves machinery, yet even more advanced. How it was a world without monsters and only had regular animals. How it was a world inhabited only by People like you, Nothing but tallmen (though in reality you and the rest of the people from your world werent tallmen, they just happened to be the most similar to your people). But strangest of all it had no magic (or so you thought), The idea seemed foreign to her and she couldnt even imagine what it could possibly be like.

You two had grown closer and fallen in love and marcille viewed you as a gift from the divine...but like all divinity they are cruel and can change there whims in a split second. It started off with a small cough, neither of you were particularly worried about it, sicknesses come and go after all. But the cough over time slowly progressed and got worse and worse, it eveolved into a tightness in the chest and struggle breathing. you became unable to do most physical things as your condition worsened, Then the dry coughing grew worse when one day you coughed into your hand and when you pulled it away it was soaked in blood.

Marcille tried everything she could, she had asked falin to do everything she could, but sadly to no avail as the healer couldnt seem to slow this disease. She asked laios for help who spent a small fortune of his newly aquired kingdoms gold to try and find you the best healers in the world to no avail. Marcille was at her wits end, she couldnt see you die. She had seen so many people she loved and cared about die already, she couldnt loose you too. However one day you brought up an idea, one that broke her heart almost as much as the idea of your death did. "i think...the only ones who could help....me..are doctors from...my world.."

Marcille begged and pleaded, she didnt want to loose you that way either...but she knew deep down that there was no magic here that could help. The both of you knew that with the magic of this world, your death was certain and you needed to go back to be treated...but...but what if...what if marcille used magic not of this world.

That dark beckoning call came to her once more, its powerful embrace called out to her, it whispered gilded words that dripped a hopeful venom. It asked of her how far would she be willing to go to save the one she loved? If her true desire was to save you, she would do anything right?....right?

She had already used its power once, what harm would using it once more do? Maybe it could save you? maybe it could fix this disease and you and her could live happily ever after. Marcille had already called upon these dark ruinous powers before, it would be so simple to do it again? Who cares about the law, of morality, of the dangers this magic poses...Would marcille truly wield that eldritch power once more to save you? consequences be damned...right?

Your arrival was incredibly to falin, the idea of a whole new world of wonder, of things to see and do, a whole new world of beauty she had never seen before made her giddy. You and her would sit up for hours as you told her stories of your world, of just how different it was than her world, how the people were, how life was. And though there were many sad stories, Falin always found it comforting to know that so many good things happened in this other world to, that no matter how grim the world seemed. There would always be people being happy and living there lives and trying to make the world a better place, it made her smile. The two of you grew closer and eventually you confessed your feelings for her, however she giggled saying how she had planned on doing the same as well. The two of you getting together as you two travelled together after laios's ascension to be the new golden kingdoms king. However, Death once more made its presence known in the door of falins home, but instead of seeing her once more it decided to come calling the one person she hoped most it would never see for years.

The coughing was the first sign something was wrong, Falin was a gifted healer and so she used her magic to try and get rid of it...but it didnt work, no matter what she did that cough wouldnt go away, at most only disapearing for a day or so then coming right back. Its progression only getting worse and worse as she frantically tried to out heal the symptoms, each time she would try to heal you she would be in tears. messy tear drops falling down her cheeks as she would use her healing magic over and over and over till she herself would throw up from magic sickness.

By the time you had started coughing up blood you had to force falin to stop trying to heal you, you both knew it wasnt going to work and that she was just hurting herself and that broke your heart. the two of you laying together as you both sobbed at all of this..it wasnt fair, it wasnt right. How could something so awful happen to such an amazing and loving person....falin couldnt believe it could happen. Eventually you told her one night you had an idea. "Falin...i think the only way ill survive is if i go back to my world...and get help there."

It broke falins heart, because she knew deep down you were right...that the only hope you had was to go back to your world and get help there. Falin was quiet for awhile, her mind racing before she softly takes a hold of your hands. "Ok...if thats the case...IM GOING WITH YOU!"

She shouts confusing you, asking her if she is serious!? would she just leave this world behind? her nodding saying that your her world and wherever you go she wants to be right there with you. And besides, she cant loose you..

When you first showed up laios was excited about the possibility to learn about all new monsters in a whole new reality....however when you told him that monsters werent a thing he couldnt help but admit how your world seemed boring.

Despite that he adored you as the two of you grew closer and closer and eventually got together. You ruling the golden kingdom alongside him. The two of you ruling the kingdom together happily, Despite laios endless hunger and curse towards monsters he was happy. you help him deal with the stress of ruling the kingdom, But perhaps fate had one last curse in store for laios...or perhaps this was some aspect of the winged lions curse on him itself.

You started off with coughing, Laios noting it was likely a cold or something and asking falin or marcille to use healing magic to help..but it didnt work. You only continued to grow worse and laios grew more and more worried. He looked through his books about monsters trying to find something in them that might heal you. He had you drink multiple brothes, eat mixtures of vegetables and herbs, bath in some monster blood but nothing was helping. None of the medicinal properties of the various monster parts he would hire people to go get would work.

By the time you had started coughing up blood, laios had all but given up hope. Nothing was working, no matter what he did, no monster remedies could help, neither marcille or falins magic could help..and his own healing magic wasnt great. He would just sit by your bedside and cry into the sheets as he held you. Eventually though you spoke to him. "Laios...i think the only way ill live..is if i go back...the doctors of my world are more advanced...its the best chance i have."

It tore laios to pieces to hear this, he hated the idea of loosing you. he had almost lost his sister, and he was so afraid to loose you too. But he knew you were right, it was the best chance you had. He would join you if he could...but he couldnt, he had to rule over the golden kingdom. There was nobody else that could rule it in his place, He had to stay behind..and it ate him alive. He told you that he would always be yours, and that he would always think of you no matter what. And as long as you lived, thats all that mattered to him.

[mc-lukanette]

One might think that having the most incredible, most creative, most skilled, and most beautiful girlfriend in the world would be hard, but it wasn't for Luka. What would destroy the confidence of hyper-sensitive boys only bolstered Luka's, knowing that such a wonderful girl picked him.

He had no idea what he'd done to deserve Marinette, Paris's sole hero and the guardian of the miraculouses, but he wasn't going to argue.

"Which one are you showing me today?" he asked, leaning forward on her chaise lounge.

She grinned, raising a finger to gesture for him to wait. "You'll see! I don't want to spoil the surprise."

There was a bounce in her step as she walked over to the Miracle Box, her hands gliding along its edges before opening it up. Luka kept himself rooted in place, fighting the contagious excitement but unable to help tilting to the side to try and see better.

It was common for her to show him the various miraculouses in the box and explain their powers, ever since her master had handed it over to her and left the country with his own lover. It wasn't just for fun either - even if they did have fun doing it - as Luka was Marinette's hero of choice when she needed someone to wield a miraculous for her.

She insisted every time that it was a completely unbiased decision, that it wasn't her fault that he could fit so many of them, and who was he to question a guardian?

Marinette turned to face him, holding up a shiny black ring and waving it about. Gesturing at it with her free hand, she explained, "This one's special. It's not safe to use since it's one of the ones Hawk Moth wants, but who knows? You might need to someday."

There was a playfulness to her voice that made him raise a brow, but he suspected that it might have to do with the thought of actually seeing him transformed. He wasn't oblivious to the once-over she'd give him any time he transformed with a miraculous he hadn't used before, and he'd do the same back to her.

That was because, rather than simply explaining the miraculous to him, she would ditch her earrings and don it herself like some superhero version of dressing up for one's significant other. While Luka knew nothing of fashion nor design, he could still appreciate seeing her in something new.

Marinette slipped the miraculous onto her finger, raising it up to watch it shrink just enough to fit her. It transformed, disguising itself to be a simple, rose gold ring, and out came another kwami for Luka to meet.

Said kwami, easily fitting the black and cat theme the ring had previously given off, yawned and stretched now that he was properly outside of the box. His green eyes popped open, tail swishing curiously as his cat-like pupils took in the scene before him.

"Oh, we're finally doing this, huh?" he asked, flying over to Luka. He looked him up and down, then went closer to bat at his bangs. "Hair's soft at least. Would make a nice bed."

"Plagg," Marinette called sternly, putting her hands on her hips.

Luka moved his head to look past Plagg and smile at her. "It's alright. He's not bothering me."

Also, though he didn't say it out loud, meeting each kwami felt vaguely like trying to impress future in-laws, so he gave all of them an extra dose of his patience.

"Good kid," Plagg said, hovering around Luka in a circle before laying himself atop his head. "Just keep the mushy stuff to a minimum whenever I'm here and we'll be fine. I got sick enough hearing her talk to me about it."

Luka looked up despite his inability to actually see Plagg. "You were talking about it?"

"Well—"

"Plagg!" Marinette burst out, panicked. "Transform me!"

Luka heard a mischievous snicker just before Plagg was pulled off of his head and into the miraculous. The rose gold ring returned to its original shape and color, light flowing out of it and transforming Marinette.

As if the fake cat ears that popped out of her head weren't already cute enough, her hair grew in length and fashioned itself into a long braid to represent a cat tail. Lining her black bodysuit were streaks of blue, accentuating her body properly as one would expect of a future fashion designer, and her sclera turned to a lighter blue while her pupils turned into vertical slits to mirror Plagg's.

Luka didn't realize his mouth had opened at all until she strutted up to him and closed it with a clawed hand. He smiled warmly, not subtle about looking her over.

"I love the black and blue," he said, doing his best to compliment her as an artist might. "The blue stripes harmonize with your eyes."

The pink blush didn't do anything for the look she was going for, but he cherished it all the same.

"Thanks~" Her voice came out a little higher-pitched, shyness blending with her earlier confidence. She reached out for him, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, then began to let herself up onto his lap.

It wasn't usual for them to cuddle during her mini lessons - not right away, at least - but muscle memory kicked in nonetheless and his hands found her sides. Her hair brushed his skin as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and slipped her arms around his back.

"I didn't know you could give lessons from there," he said jokingly, though his own voice was a smidge higher as well.

She didn't joke back, which he found a little odd. Beyond the sound of her shuffling to get even closer to him, she wasn't making a noise of any sort.

He rubbed her sides in tiny circles with his thumb, calling out curiously, "Marinette?"

Now, Luka had a mental log of all of the various sounds that Marinette made over the course of them knowing each other. She had sounds for when she was jumping in excitement, for when she slept, for when she was distressed, and for when she was being cuddled.

But the sound she was making at that moment was entirely foreign to him. It was low, rumbling, and consistent, repeating in almost a rhythmic pattern. He tried to place it without getting distracted by the way she almost seemed to be vibrating against him, but then it clicked.

She was wearing the cat miraculous. He didn't have a cat himself, but they did go to a few pet shelters one day to see the animals and talk about if they'd want one when they were old enough to move out together. He still remembered getting to pet one of the cats, rubbing its side not unlike what he was doing with Marinette.

She was purring.

"Mmm," she hummed, sensing that he'd gotten it, "I...I know I'm not always good with words. We're dating, but nothing I really want to say comes out the way it is in my head. Even when you don't say anything, you can still play music, so..." She sighed, nuzzling him. "I wanted to find a way to speak your language?"

Luka froze, blushing as he looked down at her. Plagg's earlier words came back to mind - that she had been talking to him about their contact - and he realized that it must've been this: that she wanted to know if cat heroes could purr so she could tell Luka what she felt without words: that she was comfortable with him, that she loved him, and that she felt happy whenever he touched her.

Luka wasn't self-conscious about his role in the world, but at the end of the day he was just some guy. He wasn't conventionally attractive like a celebrity on a magazine, he had what many would consider a lower class part-time job, and he didn't have any presence in the public eye. He didn't have any problem with that - less eyes on him meant more time he could eye Marinette - but it left him awestruck yet again thinking of how many boys must've been after her (or how many stupid ones weren't) when her gaze focused solely on him.

"...Luka?" Marinette called when he didn't say anything. The purring stopped as she raised up enough to look at him, the fake cat ears drooping in concern.

He snapped himself out of his reverie. Smiling at her, he took one hand off her side to cup the back on her head, bringing her in to press their foreheads together. He took a deep breath, finding calm in her scent, and assured, "You're already speaking my language, Marinette. Music doesn't mean playing an instrument or purring like a cat does. You're the song in my head, all the time, even if you're not singing."

"Really?" She sounded skeptical.

With a chuckle, he asked, "Do you want to know what my favorite part of your look is?"

She perked up, pulling back so he could better gesture at said part. "What? What is it?"

His smile tilted up to the side in a smirk. He brought a hand to her face, pressing a finger to her lips. "Right here."

Her brows soared, eyes going wide. She pushed his hand away and turned her face to the side so she could laugh, even as her face flushed. "That didn't change at all!"

He pulled her back in, eyes glinting in amusement but no less genuine. "So? You don't need words to tell me how you feel. I know with everything you do for me, and the sounds you make are already music to my ears, especially when we're..." His eyes flicked to her lips instead of saying anything further.

Her blush deepened, her claws raking shyly through her bangs. "S-so... all that practice of hugging my pillow and trying to imagine it was you to see if I could purr? That was all for nothing?"

She asked it lightly, but Luka had never been jealous of a pillow before that day, knowing that it got the experience before him.

"No," he replied with a shrug. "I love hearing whatever you want to give me, but you're already so much. You're more than enough."

He could see her visibly swallow, the stiff embarrassment melting away as she relaxed against him. She bit her bottom lip - carefully due to her fangs - and slowly slid the back of her claws up his stomach, his chest, then over his shoulder.

"Then—do you want to hear a little more?"

It was a request, not a question, and a request he was happy to indulge in.

He kissed her, immediately rewarded with a squeak that transitioned smoothly into a moan. Whenever one of them were in superhero form, it was inevitable that the other would be underneath them eventually due to the strength imbalance, thus leaving him laying flat on the chaise lounge as she kissed him back.

He could hear the purr starting up again, but he much preferred the tune they were creating with their mouths.