#and hopefully it explains a bit about why i'm still so fascinated

[ferusaurelius]

Mass Effect Universe Meta - 1

I suppose I should call this ‘mass effect critical’ but it’s really more a meditation on the questions that the series poses and the ones it chooses to ignore ... with a focus on ‘choice-based’ narrative, character-driven storylines, and geopolitical philosophy. 

If any of the above annoys you, I’d recommend not hitting the read more. This’ll probably be the first part of a series. xD

This first one is just a meditation on the choice-based narrative implementation in ME as a series. 

I’m sure I’m not saying anything someone else hasn’t already covered, in fairness, probably better or more extensively than I’m doing here ... but this is kinda where I have to begin in order to tackle my other themes.

If you just get annoyed by this sort of navel-gazing, probably best not to proceed past the cut. I’ll totally understand!

So You Want Choice-Based Story In Your AAA-Shooter

Starting with the above: much ink has been spilled on the way that gameplay implicates and frames morality. Back in the day, Mass Effect (2007) on release was stirring up controversy because it let players choose a lesbian relationship with Liara! We’ve come a long way since then. 

In some respects, Mass Effect is a product of its time and also another milestone in BioWare’s narrative portfolio. Which, before Mass Effect, included other games such as Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic.

Worth noting is that BioWare as a development house has refined its use of morality systems and mechanics over time! We’ve seen everything from lightside/darkside sliders, to paragon/renegade, to the innovation of ‘party approval’ ratings in the Dragon Age franchise. Of note is that once BioWare establishes a canon morality or choice-rating system, those mechanics tend to remain in place or consistent throughout a particular world.

There’s a notable (and expected) departure in Mass Effect: Andromeda because the writers felt like the Paragon/Renegade system was too tied to Commander Shepard, specifically, to be used as a basis for Ryder.

What makes these game narratives so engaging from a player viewpoint will also be necessarily limited by the under-the-hood mechanics of the systems and how they are capable of responding to the player. Without a set of key markers to help the game function and implement narrative choices, and without a highly-structured narrative framework that can accommodate or reflect those choices on-screen in ways that are emotionally resonant, we get ... whatever happened with Starchild.

... but we didn’t get there all at once.

Mass Effect 1: Cosmic Horrors and You

At a very high-level read, Mass Effect 1 sets the scene for the rest of the trilogy to follow and makes very clear the stakes and the plot-related questions it’s going to tackle. In the first five minutes of the game we’re confronted with eldritch horrors from beyond the stars, the return of the geth, AND Saren Arterius killing his friend, Nihlus Kryik!

I kinda knew right about then that the game was not going to be tackling plot questions (and cultures) in ways that were interesting to me, since if they were going to do that ... it would have made more sense for Nihlus to live. I have been (politely, affectionately) boo-boo-the-clown ever since.

While I still loved the aspects of universe exploration and getting to know my human and non-human crewmembers (Ashley, Kaidan, Wrex, Tali, Garrus, and Liara), the shocking moments of Virmire where you -- and I’m pretty sure this isn’t a spoiler at this point -- have to determine who lives and who dies and it’s a scripted loss? 

Narratively powerful because you’ve spent a while getting to know both characters, but problematic from a mechanics standpoint because now you have to maintain a universe that more or less hangs together throughout the game no matter “who” you chose to survive. Death-as-choice becomes a notable proxy in Mass Effect’s storyline for morality and impact.

Mechanically, you’ll also note that a lot of “moral choices” are framed as kill/don’t kill, to various and sundry effects. Personally, I wasn’t a fan of the binary choice framework underpinning most of the game’s critical moments.

And rather than be totally critical I’ll just spotlight the one choice I DO remember: with enough paragon points, talking Saren into shooting himself before he gets reanimated as a Reaper abomination.

In fairness, I think it would’ve been nice for that moment not to be gated behind a Paragon points check, since it was a NEAT narrative flourish that I didn’t see structurally repeated in other areas in the game.

As much as I fell in love with the universe, the idea of the Protheans, and what Vigil and Ilos implied about the murky past ... I was less enamored of the Reapers as a universe-ending threat and more intrigued by the internecine conflicts between the various species of the galaxy. Other game-defining options which carried over into ME2 included whether or not to save the Council (cake or death?), who to appoint as humanity’s first Councilor (slightly less death-driven), whether or not to shoot Wrex (also cake or death).

The amount of “save or kill” decisions and the lack of other equivalents (and those that WERE provided being given less narrative weight than the life-or-death elements) clued me in to the design philosophy that what the game and the narrative would most remember about the world state was who was still alive.

On the one hand, the narrative impacts of presence or absence are obvious for the player! We know these decisions are significant. On the other hand, as you’ll see in my description of ME2, this design choice did start to paint the team into a corner.

Mass Effect 2: About That Suicide Mission

Much as I loved the new squadmates for ME2 and the overall pacing of the story, as well as the interim character development for each former squad member, the clue that most of this was going to happen off-screen or not at all was that these developments occurred while Shepard was not present -- conveniently killed by the Collectors.

Again, this was my hint that this story was going to focus on different questions!

Cerberus, who played the role of minor mooks in the first game, were upgraded to a level of influence that would be a conspiracy-theorist’s dream. One of my personal soapbox “dead dove: do not eat” elements is “but the conspiracies were REAL!” So this was honestly my bad.

Favorite moments in this game included getting to know new squad members, reuniting with old characters (including Wrex! and Grunt, who has one of my favorite arcs in the game alongside Garrus). YMMV about which characters and squadmates you connected with the most/least, but we can all agree that The Suicide Mission was Certainly A Choice.

With that said, it’s possible for no-one to survive and to avoid recruiting the new squaddies. Because choices, remember?

Unfortunately this also has the impact of “kill/save” being, once again, the primary impactful narrative game mechanic. 

One can forgive the developers and narrative designers for getting a little tired at this point, because we’re not sure who survived or how much narrative content we’re going to have to adapt to another totally new character in the third act, based on who survives The Suicide Mission. Which does rather put a crimp in the amount of relational development we can presuppose in the third game.

One gets the idea that Liara was the favorite child in part because she is more or less impossible to kill. She will survive all the games no matter what choices you make, unless that choice is getting killed by Harbinger’s laser beam at the very end of ME3 and failing the game.

Small wonder that, in many respects, one of the ways the game develops Liara’s character is actually taking away player choice to avoid having to do an “impactful kill/save” option that would otherwise render her permanently inaccessible to the narrative.

Mass Effect 3: Enter the Starchild

So, what are we to make of the “kill/save” and “presence/absence” dynamic as the most narratively impactful and important? Ironically, these choices have impact only insofar as they determine what resources and relationships your Commander Shepard has access to in the game. The narrative does not so much branch as continue on, with slightly different details, depending on who you saved or recruited.

There will still BE a Tuchanka mission with or without Mordin or Wrex, and you will still conquer the Reaper capital ship alongside Kalros, the mother of all thresher maws (which is a pretty cool moment, let’s be real).

From a narrative design standpoint, these moments are what’s absolutely critical to a functioning storyline -- the character-development bits are secondary, as they must be in a game where the suicide mission can deplete your squad so thoroughly that nobody is left.

I won’t spend too much time on the original choice to lock Javik behind a DLC gate, but that’s another unfortunate choice that limited the baked-in narrative options for the third installment of the game.

Outside of the Commander-Shepard-Driven set pieces on each world, at this point, character relationships were more the icing on the cake than the narrative bedrock, something as a consequence of deciding early in design that killing characters is the clearest way to communicate narrative impact.

However, the other side of this choice, is that killing off characters when you have no narrative attachment to them and no stake in that sacrifice, ends up having progressively less and less impact, even in a AAA-shooter where the whole point is to reduce endless waves of mooks into a fine mist...

... which is where Starchild comes in.

Commander Shepard is locked into a final color-coded narrative choice of who to kill and who to save. That’s the narrative’s way of making sure you know that the choice is important -- because, without that design choice, there’s really no other established way for the game to communicate significance.

Which is a tragedy in and of itself. So many other moments are often significant or meaningful ... and I really think the choice to go with life-and-death as the biggest, baddest, most narratively-supportive element is what essentially painted the team into this final corner.

If You’re So Smart, What Would You Do?

This is easy, since it’s ultimately what BioWare and its narrative designers decided to implement in its next games: party-based approval and relationship systems that operated separately from a Paragon/Renegade personal scale.

Yeah, yeah, a cop-out. I know. Essentially, this is just external evidence that the narrative designers learned from the limitations they encountered in the Mass Effect universe and applied those lessons to their Dragon Age games.

Which again is not to say that I’ve seen concrete evidence of leaning LESS into the “kill/save” dynamic as impactful (remember the Witherfang quest in DA:O?). But it’s the thought that counts!

Branching out to other choices being signaled and framed as impactful is a key to choice-based game design and storytelling being able to incorporate character-driven narrative alongside the raw individual plot.

While this ultimately didn’t happen in Mass Effect, I am interested to see how the mechanics will be implemented in DA4 to detail and interweave other motives and questions into that storyline.

That’s What Fanfiction is For

Watching the canon Mass Effect universe default to “kill/save” decisions as the framing morality structure is pretty much why I write fanfiction designed to fill in and detail out the other blank spaces in background and backstory, and to imagine what other questions might have arisen in a more flexible approach that would not have been possible before the relevant lessons for narrative design were learned in these games.

My motivation as a writer is to expand in areas that were dropped because they wouldn’t make the cut in a AAA-shooter on a protagonist-driven schedule.

For the same reason that narrative significance eluded the final “controversial” ending of the series, I find that there are enough other aspects of character-driven plot and geopolitical philosophy that remain interesting (and implied-if-you-squint by the codex material) to keep me sufficiently occupied for a number of WIP fanfics. ;)

Which, in the end, is more a testament to the strength of the central thesis of the game (what if humanity is the new kid on the block in a galaxy full of advanced alien species?) rather than the questions the narrative ultimately chose to center.

-Ferus, out.

[kittyadore]

Hi Hi 👋🏼 can you please do an earth 42 miles x reader when it's Halloween and they go out trick or treating together 💟

halloween

—𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦!42 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴

—𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

—𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵; 1,4𝘬

—𝘢/𝘯; hi lovelies, thank u so much for the request !! i had fun writing this, i really think e!42 miles is a cutie. sum e!1610 miles coming soon hopefully, please leave requests so i know what you guys want to read. also thank u so much for the 140 (i think) likes under my previous post, as its my first ever, it means a lot to me💝💝

As October descended upon Brooklyn, whispers of Halloween's approach filled the air. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation, and you couldn't contain your excitement for the upcoming festivities. But Miles, with a furrowed brow, scoffed at the idea, preferring solitude over celebrations.

Undeterred by Miles' grumpiness, you decided to transform his home into a magical realm of Halloween delight. His mother approved of your brilliant ideas, so the boys' opinion couldn't change anything. Armed with a vivid imagination and an overflowing box of decorations, you set out to infuse the flat with the spirit of the season.

While you took your time adorning his bedroom with ghostly figures, cobwebs, and some pumpkins, your boyfriend observed you from a distance, a skeptical expression etched on his face. Despite his reservations, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as your enthusiasm filled the air.

Subsequently, you transformed the living room into a haunted haven. With Rio's help, you strung orange and black streamers, hung paper bats from the ceiling, and carefully arranged a display of glowing jack-o'-lanterns. Miles' grumpiness wavered as he watched your infectious excitement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the evening came, you turned your attention to cute couple Halloween costumes. You spent hours crafting intricate outfits-a brooding vampire for Miles and a whimsical fairy costume for yourself. Miles grumbled about the discomfort of wearing a costume, but deep down, he couldn't deny the sparkle in your eyes, even though he tried to fight it.

"You're trippin, ma." The boy intervened firmly as he shook his head in disbelief. "I am not wearing that, no way." The sharp tone of his voice struck through your heart, slowly breaking it into pieces. You knew he wasn't the type to participate in adorable couple activities, but you didn't understand why couldn't he spend his time with you, at least during such fascinating time.

"Oh come on, Miles, why not?" You pouted, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a disapproving gaze. You were sure of his opinion, but deep down, you still had some hope, that the captivating season could soften his heart, even the tiniest bit. "It's like you don't love me anymore, Miles. You never do anything fun with me, we barely even spend time together. You're always out doing your 'important work', putting off our plans" You snapped at him, with slight wrath audible in your voice

"I get it, you might not be a fan of all those 'cringy' couple activities, but please, can't you enjoy your time with me for once?" You continued, your gaze shifting from his face to his torso. You could notice the confusion on his face, as you weren't the type to talk to him like this. "But alright, if you don't want to, I can just go out with someone else. You have fun here"

Miles made his way up to his bed, sitting down beside you, letting out a sigh, as he entwined his hands with yours. Staring into his eyes, you could see them filling up with agony, clearly hurt after hearing your truthful speech.

"Look, mami. I'm sorry I haven't given you enough time lately, you know, I just cant explain it. I want to keep you safe" Your boyfriend started the same answer you hear every time you would bring up his job. It was different though, he never really genuinely apologized to you. Sure, a quick 'my bad' or 'i'll do better' usually left his mouth, but you've never heard him say 'i'm sorry'. He put his head down as he continued.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, you know I'm not happy about me canceling our dates either. I can dress up and go trick-or-treating with you, ma. I hate seeing you like this, I'll do better, princessa."

Miles stole a quick kiss on your lips, then on your forehead as he got up from the bed, reaching over to your Halloween costumes. His lips shifted into a soft smile as he felt a wave of warmth strike through his heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you two emerged from his house, you adorned in vibrant fairy costume that shimmered under the moonlight. You fluttered your wings, casting a spell of enchantment that swirled around Miles.

Miles, reluctantly participating, donned a simple costume, a bloodthirsty vampire. Deep down, he couldn't resist your excitement, and a flicker of curiosity ignited within him, as you took the lead.

Hand in hand, you set off into the moonlit streets, where houses were adorned with cobwebs, glowing pumpkins, and haunting decorations. Children, disguised as witches, superheroes, and ghosts, giggled and chattered as they darted from door to door.

You, with your infectious laughter, skipped ahead, your voice like a melody in the night. Miles trailed behind, his grumpy attitude slowly giving way to the passion he hadn't felt in years.

At each house, children eagerly showcased their costumes, their eyes shining with anticipation. Your eyes danced with delight, and your laughter filled the crisp autumn air. Miles, though initially skeptical, found himself chuckling at your excitement, realizing that Halloween held a joy he had long forgotten.

As you continued your journey collecting candy, you arrived at a house unlike any other. It's porch was adorned with shimmering lights, and a melodious tune drifted through the air. You approached, your hand entwined with your boyfriends' and your eyes wide with wonder, and rang the doorbell.

The door creaked open, revealing an elderly man dressed as a magician. With a flourish of his wand, he produced a basket overflowing with candy. As he handed you a treat, he leaned in and whispered, "May the magic of this night bring joy to even the coldest of hearts."

Miles was taken aback by the man's words. Perhaps there was more to Halloween than he had ever realized. A seed of enchantment had been planted within him, sprouting into a newfound appreciation for the night's festivities.

Eager to share this newfound delight, Miles' coldness dissipated like mist in the morning sun. He engaged in playful banter with fellow trick-or-treaters, admiring their costumes and sharing in the joy of the evening.

As the moon reached its zenith, you approached the final house on your route. The porch was transformed into a whimsical wonderland, complete with floating candles and mystical creatures. Your eyes sparkled, and Miles' heart swelled with anticipation.

You knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a woman dressed as a fortune teller. Her voice was soft and melodious as she greeted you. Miles exchanged glances with you, feeling as though you had stumbled into a magical realm.

The fortune teller handed you each a small, golden envelope. "Open these when the clock strikes midnight," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with mystery.

With a sense of wonder pulsing through your veins, you and your boyfriend bid the fortune teller farewell. You made your way back home, your pumpkin buckets filled to the brim with sweet treasures.

As the clock neared midnight, you sat on the couch, in the decorated living room. With a hushed countdown, you opened your golden envelopes in unison.

Inside, you discovered handwritten notes, each containing a heartfelt message from the other. Words of love, appreciation, and gratitude spilled from the pages, filling your hearts with warmth.

You and Miles exchanged smiles, your souls intertwined in a magical moment. You realized that the true enchantment of Halloween was not just in the costumes or treats, but in the bonds that were strengthened and the love that was kindled.

As the clock struck midnight, Miles took your hand in his and whispered, "Thank you for showing me the magic of this night, ma. I'm sorry for being so harsh with you and canceling our dates so often. If they are as amazing as this one, it will never happen again." Your eyes shimmered with happiness and you let out a quiet laugh at his words.

Under the moonlit sky, the two of you shared a tender kiss, the magic of the night enveloping you. In that moment, you knew that love, laughter, and the spirit of Halloween would forever illuminate your lives, casting away any shadows of coldness that may try to linger.

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 3 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

I'm trying so hard not to burn myself out on writing because I've written and posted so much the past few weeks. which is a really short amount of time for me, also I'm going away for about a week which means I won't be able to write, so hopefully by the time I come back I'll be refreshed and ready to write more! In the meantime enjoy part 3 :)

Part 2 here

Warnings: sukuna is a volatile lil shit, possibly incorrect descriptions of disabilities? i did do a bit of research but also it's a lot of heavy headcanoning

Word count: 3.6k

“Have you seen the news?” “Prince Ryomen L/n…” “Why do you think he changed his last name?” “He’s part of Iqoria now, whether he meant it or not,” “Surely there’s an explanation for it,” “There must be, but he’s here now and he’ll be a great asset if he knows what he’s doing,” “That is true, I suppose we should just trust the King, if he trusts him with Princess L/n then we should too,”

There have been no shortage of murmurings in the streets about the sudden and unexpected marriage and arrival of the newlywed Ryomen L/n. It’s only been a couple of days, the people will adjust. You’re making sure that you take the time to walk him around the castle and actually get to know him before you take up the traditional clan tattoos that will bind the pair of you to Iqoria, of which he holds a curious fascination.

“What are the origins of your clan tattoos?” He asks on the second morning. A lovely warm day, you’ve chosen a light dress and a parasol to accompany you on your walk through the gardens. You look over to him beside you, the pair of you hidden amongst the bushes as you sit together on a shaded bench, “There are a few different opinions and accounts, but I believe the most popular stems back to an ancient era of the kingdom where curses were much more abundant than they are currently."

"One of my female ancestors centuries ago used ink to disguise herself and played pretend as a fierce and strong curse, almost acting as a god, and she led great numbers of them to their destruction to protect her village. Adenfast is said to be named after that village, but the original location is unknown,” You explain.

“Have they changed much over the years?” He has taken your hand and is tracing his thumb over the lines on your wrist, “Not as far as I know, I know a few lines here and there that came from specific people from my family tree because of things they achieved, but it’s mostly stayed the same,” You point to your wrists, the two thick black bands there prominent, “These were added by my great great grandmother, as protection for the young children in the family, two lines done at age ten and then renewed after marriage,”

He smirks, but it’s softer than it has been, “Interesting…” He murmurs. “How will you be incorporating your clans tattoos into mine?” You ask quietly, because ultimately it’s his decision, and you’re already fearing his answer. He just shrugs, “Not sure,” He looks away, still holding your hand, “It all doesn’t feel real,” He murmurs. “Freedom?” You squeeze his hand gently.

He nods, his gaze traveling around the quiet gardens as you take in the moment. He’s been skittish, he flinched when your father raised his voice at dinner the night before and you’d made sure to scold your father afterwards. You can always sense the storm within him, he can’t easily suppress his energy and you’ve had to deal with one other outburst than the one on the journey here.

He’d been here only a day, his sleep was restless and this you knew because you spent that night in the same bed together in lieu of the wasted night spent in a carriage. Nothing happened between the two of you, but he jolted the both of you awake in the early hours of the morning after a nightmare. The sun hadn’t risen, his face was barely visible in the dim starlight creeping through the window, but you could feel his sadness. He wouldn’t tell you what it was, he didn’t say a word, just allowed you to pull him against you and hide his face in your chest. His outburst later that day was aimed at Geto, who’d foolishly commented on his younger brothers.

“Does your father not see your younger brothers the way he sees his precious eldest heirs?” He’d said during one of your tutelage sessions with Gojo in which Ryomen was watching from the sidelines, and you knew he was deliberately stepping over a line. You thought Geto was better than that, but after this happened you weren’t sure you could trust him in the same way you always had.

You felt Ryomen coming up behind you and stepped to put yourself between them with a glare in your eyes before Ryomen could even think about throwing a punch, “Suguru Geto, you know better than that, do I have to tell my father about this?!” You had shouted. His eyes had widened and he’d dropped to a knee, immediately apologising. He clearly hadn’t expected you to support your husband. You suppose he held a grudge against the man for his actions towards you on the journey to Iqoria and thought you would share these reservations, but you refused to stand for it. “You fucking bastard, never speak of my brothers again, do you hear me?!” Ryomen spat over your shoulder, “My brothers are better men than you will ever be, I can fucking smell the hatred that you exude,”

You also didn’t appreciate the accusation that came from Ryomen but you let it slide, you’d seen his last interaction with his brothers and knew it still rubbed him raw to even think about them. “We’re done here, Geto I will speak with you at a later time,” You turned and herded Ryomen out of the room. His eyes held that familiar tint of red at the edges of his irises and his energy had flared to such a level that you’d taken him out to the rear of the castle, where the guards trained, and he had destroyed a wooden dummy halfway across the courtyard beyond recognition within mere seconds of arrival.

He was breathing heavily when he finally looked back at you, and you refused to look away or show you were afraid. He was in pain, and you needed to let him work through it and seek help only where he wanted it. “Let’s not tell anyone about that,” You nodded vaguely in the direction of where the dummy used to be as he returned to your side, his breath ragged and sweat dripping down his face and neck.

He nodded in response, swallowing thickly, “I’m sorry,” He mutters, “You shouldn’t have to see me like this,” “Is that your technique?” You asked, gaze flitting to the pieces of the dummy. He looked away and you didn’t question him further, you just took his hand and lead him into the castle to force him into a bath.

Back in the present as you’re reminded of the fear in his eyes, you look back to him, “Are you… afraid of yourself?” You murmur. He looks like a kicked puppy when he turns to you and your eyes widen, “Sorry! Sorry, I take it back, you don’t have to answer that,” He clutches your hand just a little tighter, his knuckles going white and his lips set in a thin line, “Yes,” He states, his voice shaky, “I am afraid of myself,”

“I’m afraid of what I might do to you if I’m left unchecked,” He continues, “I’m afraid of hurting you and lashing out at the people around me because I still feel like a caged wolf even though the reality of my situation has changed,” “I hope you can one day see me as home,” You say, putting your parasol down to reach your hand up to his cheek, “I know it will be hard, and I promise I will know you down to your core one day, but there is no rush,” He nudges his nose against your palm for a moment, “I am first and foremost your new friend, and I want only to be your strongest ally,”

He nods, “Thank you,” He whispers softly. “Princess Y/n!” The shout of your name shatters the small bubble of peace around the two of you. You drop your hand from his face but keep your fingers intertwined as you stand. A young maid around your age that you grew up with, Belinda, comes racing around a dense rosebush and comes to a skidding halt when she spots you. She bows for a moment, “Your father has requested your presence for the application of the L/n clan tattoos,” She informs you and you hand your parasol to her, “Thank you for letting me know, take this to my closet and we will make our way to the throne room,”

She darts off with the parasol in hand and you link arms with Ryomen as he stands again, leading you back into the castle. Once in the throne room, you’re greeted by the pair of artists responsible for both your and your brother’s tattoos, “Ah Princess Y/n, and Prince Ryomen, an honour it is,” The couple bow as your father stands and opens his arms, “My children, it is time,” He smiles widely, “See to this duty with dignity,” You curtsey to the tattoo artists before they lead the two of you to a room dimly lit with candles.

“As you aren’t the Crown Prince and Princess, this isn’t considered an extravagantly formal affair,” The woman assures you, “You may speak freely with one another while we work, there are a few rituals we will conduct during and after the inking process, but nothing remarkable,” The tattoo artists are specially chosen for their artistic abilities and their knowledge of cursed energy, as a reverse cursed technique is needed for royal family tattoos which are expected to appear to the public within the first twenty four hours of application.

“If you please,” The other artist, the man who gave you your wristbands when you were ten, gestures to the outline of a person on a poster you didn’t even notice at first on the wall. It’s not quite life size, just smaller than you, but it shows you the complete map of tattoos that you will be getting for the L/n clan including a back view just beside it.

Bands on your upper arms and around your shoulders as well as a large spot on your shoulders, two sharp parallel streaks down your abdomen with matching lines reflected on the small of your back, two broken lines that wrap over your shoulders like overall straps and veer up and then down again just below your collarbone on your breasts. You’d always known about the facial tattoos, the lines that follow the jaw bone, the emblem in the centre of the forehead that was said to represent wisdom, and the line over the nose, but you’d always seem then as quite delicate and symbolic of the fragility of life.

The tattoos hidden beneath the clothing were thick and strong, reminiscent of the ones on your wrists that were there for protection. These were the tattoos of fierce and noble protectors. Those who would risk their lives to keep the weak safe. Your family was strong, a fact perhaps forgotten in times of peace, and this reminder gives you a boost of confidence as you begin stripping down to just your bottom half undergarments. There are no tattoos below the waist save for a pair of thick ankle bands and the symbol on your forehead copied on both hips.

“How would you like to incorporate the Itadori clan tattoos?” The man asks Ryomen behind you. You hear the shuffle of clothing and then his hand on your bare upper back. Having to get really comfortable really fast with one another, you rip the bandage off and turn to him with your arms crossed over your chest, hugging yourself, “I don’t think I will,” He grins as he looks you up and down, his gaze flicking between you and the poster on the wall a couple of times. The artists exchange glances but you just nod, “Make it so,” “Your majesties, this isn’t a wise decision diplomatically speaking,” The woman speaks softly, her head bowed.

 “This marriage wasn’t for the sake of diplomacy so why the fuck should I care what my father thinks?” Ryomen snaps. You grab his hand, still keeping one arm tight over your bare chest, “Ryomen,” You say softly, “Ryomen, it’s okay, they’re allowed to be worried for their kingdom, this has never happened before, are you sure you don’t want to add anything? Even if it isn’t from your clan?” He looks into your eyes for a fleeting moment and then looks to the map again, frowning as he breathes deeply. “Can you tattoo a pair of fake closed eyelids just above the edge of where the lines will end on my cheeks?” He gestures on his face just below his real eyes.

You look confused for a moment but he clarifies, “My second eyes, Yuji always used to tell me I had an extra pair of eyes reserved for my brothers,” The artists seem to relax only slightly and the woman asks you if you’ll be getting that modification to which you reply, after confirmation from Ryomen that he is comfortable, that yes you will. The entire process is long and tedious, difficult, you spend more time squeezing Ryomen’s hand than actually talking because the pain gets to you after a while. He’s antsy the whole time, he reaches up and fidgets with your fingers and plays with your hair after his arms and shoulders are done while you’re sat up getting your back done.

“Tell me about your brothers,” You ask softly once the man starts work on his back, the woman in between the two of you tattooing atop your breasts and collarbones. “My brothers? What would you like to know?” You shrug, “Anything you want to tell me,” He looks up for a moment, “Well, Yuji and I were always the closest, since Choso is the Crown Prince he spent a lot of time in studies and learning how to be king. Eso and Kechizu are five and eight years younger than me, fifteen and twelve, both born with disabilities that prevent them from leading normal lives,”

There is an intense sadness in his eyes and you squeeze his hand gently, “Eso significantly lacks in his movement and coordination ability, the doctors would never tell us exactly what it was but we knew he couldn’t play the same way we used to as children, so we never played rough. Kechizu is hard to explain, because he was born with significant tunnel vision and a high sensitivity to light, and so hasn’t bothered opening his eyes most of his life, but also has problems with his blood. He bleeds heavily if he gets hurt, he bruises extremely easily, so then we learned we had to be gentle with both boys,” You’re sure your sadness is palpable at this point, but he seems to be perking up slightly just talking about them with someone.

“Despite the limitations in their abilities, they were always so lively and never wanted to be left behind if we went out to train, Eso spent his time describing in exaggerated detail the three of us as we trained to Kechizu, and I just remember them being so happy when my father wasn’t around-“ He cuts himself off, his lips returning to a thin line as his eyes sparkle slightly in the candlelight. You know he doesn’t want to cry in front of the artists, so you instead begin to tell him stories of your childhood, your brother and Geto, the young maids who grew up alongside you and now serve you, the kindness of the Iqorian people and the events and festivals you’ve attended all your life.

“That all sounds lovely,” He murmurs as he cups your cheek, tracing a thumb over the new tattoo just below your eyes and letting his energy flow through you to heal the raw skin left there. The gesture warms your heart, healing his addition to your clan tattoos, and you uncover your chest shyly to place your own hands over the newly healed tattoos on his collarbone, tracing the edges of the thick lines gently. “You know, now that it’s happening, I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else,” He says, his voice thick with emotion.

You blush softly, “You really do have a way with words sometimes, I think you could have been a poet in another life,” He steps into your space, half attempting to hide your exposed skin from the artists, “I think I’d very much like to be reborn as a songbird,” He whispers, his large hands still gently holding your cheeks as the artists begin their final rituals, leaning his forehead down and resting it against yours. “Then I could sing you songs of every kind of love every morning when you wake,” A soft glow surrounds the pair of you as you look into his eyes, the tattoos emitting the glow as the artists murmur softly.

You’re unsure of what exactly they’re doing but you know this is a moment you won’t ever forget, stood in the center of a dark room with the man you saved within mere hours of meeting him. Your new husband, perhaps the most dangerous man alive if Satoru Gojo’s Six Eyes are to be believed. But he’s here, he’s right in front of you holding you like a butterfly, bearing your last name and the marks of your clan because of the ignorance of his father.

The artists have left the room by the time you come back to one another, the glow slowly dimming with every second, but his hands never leave your body. He traces his hands over everything he can see, and everything he can’t, in an effort to familiarise himself with you and seek comfort in your warmth. It doesn’t occur to you that this is a little scandalous, you simply allow him to softly caress your skin, nothing but a hint of innocent desperation in the air. He needs this. He needs you to step into the role Yuji had tried his best to fill, his main protector and advocate, and if Ryomen needs to know you inside and out to allow himself to trust you then you’ll do whatever it takes.

“We have a people to address,” You murmur, still looking up into his half-lidded eyes. He nods gently, sitting back down on the table and breaking the trance, allowing you to search for the robes and bring them back to him. Simple white clothing, symbolising purity, adorned with green stitching, symbolising new beginnings. Both outfits are sleeveless, the straps thin and the neckline plunging deep on both your front and back to expose the main shoulder to collar tattoos to the air. Nothing can be done about the tattoos on your stomach and lower back, but the sleeveless nature allows for the arm and shoulders to be fully exposed.

“Allow me,” He murmurs, reaching for the simple dress and then helping you step into it, clasping it at your hips and just below the middle of your back to secure it. It’s oddly comfortable, it had looked itchy and uncomfortable on your sister-in-law but you suppose she just didn’t like the stares of the people. When you turn back to him he’s already pulled the loose pants on and you watch his muscles flex and relax as he slips into the shirt.

“You look good,” You murmur softly, clasping your hands at your stomach, “Are you alright?” He looks up, fixing his hair slightly. His soft smile sends a shot of warmth through your body as he reaches for you, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I can say with full confidence,” He starts, holding you to his chest and hiding you against him as the door opens again, revealing your parents, “That I’ve never been better than I am right now,” He whispers for only your ears, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you nuzzle against him.

“It is time,” Your father announces, “For you to address the people as husband and wife,” You steel yourself as you pull away, noticing a hint of red in Ryomen’s eyes as he looked down at you, but feeling nothing but strength from his aura as opposed to rage. You look to your father and nod, “We’re ready,” Time had seemed to stand still while the two of you were in that room, but the moment you stepped out you saw the day had ticked over and it was now the morning again. The rituals performed by the artists had prevented you from becoming weary or hungry, you felt refreshed if anything, and the two of you walk hand in hand with your parents in tow to the main castle entrance.

Geto is there at the open doorway, and past him you can see the courtyard and the steps up to the entrance are flooded with the Iqorian people. This is it, the first step into the public eye, with your husband by your side. News travels fast, you’re sure the Itadori clan will hear of his tattoos before the sun has set, but a small part of you holds no remorse. “Are you prepared for the consequences?” Ryomen murmurs into your ear, “There’s no backing down now,”

You squeeze his hand and then tug him out into the growing sunlight, walking forwards until you’re at the edge of the steps. The reactions you can see are mixed, but there is an overwhelming amount of positive energy flowing up at you. Your emotions get the best of you, tears slip down your cheeks, you tuck yourself closer to Ryomen as he lifts an arm to wave. “Live in the feeling,” He whispers, seemingly to himself, “Savour the moment,”

You decide to do just that. Peace washes over you, and you find yourself once again thinking to the future, the countless possibilities and unknowns. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it with Ryomen L/n unapologetically by your side.

Might start putting a 'fanart of the day' at the end where i link a fanart of the character in question (in this case sukuna) for you all to enjoy if you haven't seen it already lol

Part 4 here

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 5)

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard & Reader-Insert

Main|First|Previous

(This feels like the Marco chapter, and I'm not even sorry. Not intended to be shippy btw, but I totally understand if it's read that way)

Warnings: Platonic Yandere behavior, implied threats of physical violence, and intimidation. Do not tolerate this behavior in real life.

Next chapter won't have such a heavy Marco focus I swear lol

Have fun and be safe!

Word Count: 3,325

Absolutely horrifying. That’s about how you’d describe the experience of eating lunch in a completely abandoned kitchen under the watchful eye of The Phoenix. Having been told in no uncertain terms that you would ‘get used to it’, you resigned yourself to a more timid, cautious eye for escape. Certainly nothing risky as it was abundantly clear that you weren’t leaving unless he let you.

Why exactly everyone else seemed to just go with it was also unclear but from the reaction of Fire Fist this seemed… normal?! To just—well—pick someone and keep them in the crew?! Either it was treated as a more amusing but regular way Whitebeard gained ‘children’ or excused under some respect towards your devil fruit. You had never heard of pirates recruiting quite like this. Sure, some hapless civilian will be taken in due to poor circumstances and an inability to take on the pirates themselves, but piracy is quite a dangerous life as is. The last thing any self-respecting crew would want is a hazard on board. A rouge agent ready to see them sink or be killed at the first opportunity.

Not, however, that you thought you were capable of such a feat on your own. A sentiment you suspected was shared with the very crew you were being kept by. Perhaps that explained at least some of the craziness occurring. If you had nothing to fear of any of your actions, why not just take what you want? With total impunity? A bit hedonistic but frankly, the Whitebeard Pirates weren’t known to be saints to begin with. Even though, among Yonkos, they’re one of the more… tolerable pirate crews all around. Red-Hair was more known for partying and raising hell for the fun of it but then there was Big Mom and Kaido.

Fuck yourself sideways if it was Big Mom or Kaido that found you instead.

Though at least it would be less confusing then. Whitebeard’s crew had this thick veneer of ‘family’ about it that they all really believed in and made hating them feel… weird. Complicated, at least, though you still wanted nothing to do with any of them. Big Mom’s crew had some of that ‘family’ vibe about it but more like… a ruthless, constant struggle to impress their ‘mom’. Even at a distance you knew that the inner politics of Big Mom’s crew was rife with struggle.

Here though, it was all a lot more relaxed. You could almost believe they had good intentions. Hell, if you had walked on board of your own volition, it would even be a breath of fresh air. You know. For a pirate crew.

And really, that’s what freaked you out the most.

They were pirates.

A fucking Yonko crew.

And they acted like you weren’t a marine here unwillingly. Like you were just another child of Whitebeard having a bit of a rebellious phase and soon to drop it and go back to being a good kid. And you’ve never met any of them before in your life.

Fucking bizarre.

And the second worst thing is that you’ve finished what was definitely the most delicious meal of your life without even tasting any of it. Too occupied by your thoughts and the amused stare down The Phoenix was treating you to, elbows on the counter with his chin resting in his palm. Eyes partially closed with a soft smile. You couldn’t decide if it was fascination or some form of restrained malice that cut across the short distance.

Whatever it was could join the line in the list of things freaking you the fuck out. And hopefully fuck off in no particular order but you haven’t gotten what you wanted in years, so why start now?

The Phoenix sat up, instantly gaining your attention as he grinned.

“Well, now that you’ve rested and eaten, I think it’s time to see where you’re at, yoi.” You frowned, looking around the empty room.

“Uhm… I guess the kitchen? Or at least one of them?” You mumbled, getting increasingly nervous about what he would do next.

Another little speech about how you’ll totally love it here as a pirate and should just get over your silly hangups? Veiled threats to hunt you for sport if you disagree?

The Phoenix laughed, shaking his head as he stood up, taking your dishes to the closest sink.

“No, blue bird. I’m curious to know how your fighting skills are.” The Phoenix stated and you blanched instinctively.

“Nowhere near good enough to fight you.” You responded quickly, desperately hopeful he didn’t mean that you were going to fight him. While you could take a hit well enough, you weren’t a masochist. And you needed no demonstration that he could kick your ass. The Phoenix grinned with a little too much teeth, tapping your nose fondly.

“Oh, I know that, blue bird. It’s good that you know that too, though. It’s kind of refreshing not dealing with a cocksure marine.” He huffed. “No, you’ll try fighting someone else. Without a devil fruit.” He gently brought you along with him through the ship past several curious crew members, his arm firmly around your shoulder.

You grimaced at the reminder about devil fruits. You could feel quite a few on board, the pull of theirs on yours likely why you slept so long. You’d never been strained like this before, though the ache quickly faded to a more tolerable level compared to when you first boarded the ship. Whether that was your own ability getting stronger or your sense of relative struggle getting screwed with, you weren’t sure. The Phoenix constantly touching you also helped disorient you.

You wished that your previous partners had focused on figuring out how to lessen your devil fruit rather than constantly abusing it to get a power up. Too late now though.

Eventually, The Phoenix led you to a large room with walls of weapons and a training mat in the middle.

“This is where we test out new recruits and occasionally see if a different weapon would be a better fit. What’s your preference, yoi?” You hissed in a grimace.

Unfortunately, your strongest fighting style was hand to hand combat. Understandably not advised after you ate your devil fruit. You’d been working with a bo staff after enlisting but had absolutely no time training with it unless you counted sweeping the barracks.

“Hand to hand, actually.” You shrugged helplessly. “I’ve been trying to use a bo staff but I never got time to train with it beyond not smacking my face.” The Phoenix chuckled, ruffling your hair and pointing to the center of the room.

“Wait there, yoi. I’ll bring someone over to spar you.” Nervous, you removed your shoes and padded over to the middle of the mat. It was a pretty good sparring mat, actually. Enough give to soften a fall but not unstable to walk on. Upon closer inspection you noticed that the weapons displayed were all training weapons. No live steel or sharp edges to be found. Blunt weapons were still quite dangerous, especially if you get too comfortable with their ‘safety’, but it was all part of the learning process.

“Hey.” You jolted, half turning to see a large man standing behind you. Well over twice your size and thicker than any tree you climbed as a child. “What are you doing, marine.”

Oh. So some of the crew was aware of your job. And not strictly approving of your appearance here. It was almost reassuring. While you didn’t want any of the Yonko crew to hate you, the idea of all literal thousands of them instantly liking you made you nauseous. Even the well over a thousand members currently on board having zero issue with you made your bones shudder.

“The Phoenix told me to wait here until he came back with someone to spar with.” You answered honestly with a shrug, fighting to not fidget under the man’s intense glare. He grinned, several teeth missing.

“I’ll spar you. No weapons?” You shook your head, not sure if you should argue against him as you pushed your glasses back up your nose.

You didn’t want to disobey The Phoenix on your first day and set up a pattern of disobedience that he’d need to keep a closer eye on. But the man before you also didn’t look like he was going to take no for an answer.

Luckily, the man has the worst posture you’ve ever seen. He threw a punch down at you, the angle awkward as it was clear he enjoyed winning fights with overwhelming force against opponents closer to his eye level. Truthfully, you don’t have a lot of natural skills going for you. You weren’t born with incredible strength or speed. You bruised like a peach and your body was more or less quite average to adjusting to training. And you certainly wasn’t going to worry about being too tall to enter establishments anytime soon.

So you had to get smart. You knew long ago that you’d never out-punch everyone. Not that you shouldn’t ever try but well… some heights were simply out of your reach.

The man was sloppy. A brute that likely preferred blunt weapons for the satisfaction of breaking bones. He tensed up in all the wrong places—likely to accommodate the massive weapon he usually wielded. Not the worst fighter you’ve seen by far.

But definitely worse at it than you. At least when it came to fighting someone so much smaller than himself—a real issue that tended to crop up on the Grand Line.

Your feet slid into place, knees bending to brace yourself against the brief but overwhelming force. Your hands grasping the man’s arm as you pivoted the angle of descent, using his own weight against him as he flew overhead. Back slamming into the ground with a hard thud that genuinely lifted you off your feet. It was a basic defensive maneuver.

But that didn’t stop you from laughing a little at his surprised expression, your fingertips still resting over his pulse point as it raced. After a moment you let his arm drop.

“Are you alright?” You couldn’t help but ask after a few more moments, the man’s eyes still fixed on you, more or less. “Sorry, I’m not really strong enough to soften the throw for someone your size. Do you need a doctor?”

“Yes, Haymes, do you need a doctor, yoi?” You nearly jumped as The Phoenix spoke up from just behind you, his hand falling onto your shoulder firmly. Haymes, apparently, grew increasingly pale under what must have been a horrifically intense glare. You certainly weren’t checking to see it for yourself.

“N-No, C-Commander Marco!” The man stuttered in fear.

“Then. Get. Up.” The Phoenix hissed. “You know the rules.” He growled over your shoulder.

Rules? Oh. Right. Of course they have rules. Why wouldn’t they have rules?

What the hell were the rules?!

“Y-Yes sir, sorry!” The man scrambled to run away. After a few heartbeats, you turned your head to find that The Phoenix was giving you that mildly unsettling smile again. You… decided not to ask about those ‘rules’.

The Phoenix cleared his throat and tipped his head to the man standing just behind him.

Closer to your own height, thankfully, and a bit of a boxer’s frame. The man gave you a polite smile despite glancing nervously at his commander.

“This is Newt. Newt will spar with you a few times to see where you’re at. Polite rules of engagement.” The Phoenix stated before throwing a side glance at Newt. “I better not have to deal with any broken bones, yoi.”

You gave Newt a reassuring smile, having zero intention of breaking anything. Personally, you hated how it felt to break bones under your own hands. The sensation and vibration in your own body unsettling. Newt gave you a small smile back and nodded.

“Sure thing, Marco.” The Phoenix nodded his satisfaction and walked off the mat, choosing to lean against the wall to watch. You wished he didn’t but knew better than to argue. What would you even say?

‘Uh, The Phoenix, sir, man capable of healing all but the most grievous wounds, would you please stop overseeing a spar with a Yonko pirate? Thanks.’

Newt shuffled into place away from you, his stance much more appropriate and relaxed that Haymes. A little stiff still, but balanced. You guessed he preferred solid blows with his palms in rapid speed. Maybe a few punches to harder areas to knock the air from his opponents. Not much of a leg guy, you already knew he would plant himself and work from there.

Unfortunately for him, you had been described as ‘frustratingly wily and wriggly’. Constantly moving into an optimum position to redirect blows and strike.

You got into position and waited, in absolutely no hurry to make the first move. The waiting often got to people, not used to engaging in a fight with someone who doesn’t want to be there to begin with. Made them tense. Made them nervous. And Newt, despite being a capable fighter, was definitely getting nervous.

He grit his teeth and moved.

You leaned back slightly and forced his arm to follow the natural bend of his elbow to the opposite side of where he intended to hit you, unbalancing him. Your foot sliding out to knock him over onto his side, aided by the gentle hand pushing into his chest.

It was, perhaps, your most sadistic tendency to aim for ending a fight in the first move with as little wasted effort as possible. Without a lot of stamina, you didn’t have the luxury to entertain long fights. And as a marine, your aim was to arrest pirates as fast as possible. Was it a bit emasculating for your opponent? Yes. But it wasn’t exactly about honor, glory, or humoring people that you fought to begin with.

You fought because you had to. Everything else was secondary. You preferred to call it being pragmatic.

Newt blinked up at you in shock before grinning, laughing loudly as he accepted your hand in getting up.

“Eheh~ Wow!” Newt cackled, shaking his head. “Let’s try that again.”

You returned to your waiting stance.

This time, Newt attacked much faster.

He went lower this time, to your other side. Likely assuming that it was weaker.

You answering response was to pivot back and in the same direction that he was coming from, swinging in even lower to sweep his legs out from under him while he was overreaching.

Another straightforward blow.

You went in closer under his arm, turning your back to his chest as your foot hooked around his braced leg and throwing him over your body onto the floor with his own momentum.

The side again but not as low, swinging in wide.

You spun around him just ahead of his own arc and yanked the back of his shirt, sending him tumbling to the floor in shock.

Finally, a high, roundhouse kick to try and catch you off guard.

To be funny, you spun towards and around him twice, catching him on the second turn and spinning him away from you where he collapsed in a dizzy heap.

Newt was full on laughing at this point, sweaty arm covering his face as he panted for breath.

“Y-You’re supposed to try and hit me!” He cried foul. You offered your hand to him again.

“Sorry.” You said, not very sorry at all. “You look like I’d have a better time punching a brick wall.” He accepted it with grace and stood up, waving to The Phoenix on the far wall.

“Good enough, Marco?” Newt asked breathlessly. The Phoenix nodded with a half-smile.

“Yeah, Newt. You did good, now go shower before returning to Haruta.” The Phoenix declared. “I don’t want to hear any complaints about the smell, yoi.”

His eyes returned to you and you grinned nervously.

“Yes, The Phoenix?” His eyes narrowed and he slowly stalked forward, not helping your poor heart in the slightest. He leaned down until his nose was almost touching yours, hand gently bringing your sweaty forehead against his. You felt the fire flicker over your heated skin, tending to the mild aches in a wash of power. His eyes unwavering in their annoyance anyway.

“Marco. Just Marco, blue bird.” He grumbled. “You’re family now, yoi. No titles or epitaphs.”

You grimaced, gently trying to push him away from you. Rejecting, though softly, the whole ‘family’ thing. He didn’t even budge, his eyes the only indication he even noticed. The color turning colder as gold flickered over his lashes. His gaze looked less human and more predatory as he suddenly smirked.

The room exploded in blue fire as you were suddenly shoved down onto the floor. You yelped in fear, feeling talons press onto chest back as a heavy weight settled over you.

A gold beak broke through the terrifyingly beautiful display of living fire, dark blue mask and sapphire eyes narrowed down at you. It didn’t hurt, not even a little, but the pressure was a threat on it’s own. He cocked his head at you, waiting for your response.

You didn’t know why you weren’t as afraid as you really should have been. His talons were no joke. He could easily disembowel you right now and probably heal you back again in seconds just to repeat the process. He even looked mostly amused now, staring down at you with eyes only superficially human.

His beak clacked with mild annoyance that you weren’t playing along already or giving him anything to react to. Not even fear despite the compromising position.

Right.

Phoenix.

He’s on fire, sure, but still a bird. And you’ve never been scared of animals like others are. Even when they’re threatening you.

Somehow, his human form freaked you out more than the literal bird of fire. Which didn’t even burn. The flames licked at you freely with all the softness of a down feather. The heat negligible at best though feeling bizarrely cool. Like the shade on a hot beach.

Hilariously, the idea of calling him Marco now was less horrifying than when he looked like a man. More horrifying was the instinctive desire to coo at how pretty he was. Which was very, very pretty.

You should, under no circumstances, tell the Yonko pirate he’s a pretty birdy. Even if he really, really is.

He isn’t actually a bird. He’s a grown man. Intimidating you into using his actual name. And you’ve been staring for quite some time instead of responding in any particular way like a maniac.

“… For everyone or just you?” You asked faintly, still trying to refrain from cooing at his gorgeous plumage. He blinked in surprise, leaning down further to push your glasses back up with the tip of his beak.

“… Aren’t you scared of me?” He asked, settling down and removing his foot from your chest, merely standing over you. “You’ve been scared of me so far, yoi.”

You chuckled nervously, finally giving into temptation to pet his face.

“You’re a really pretty bird.” You explained, face hot with embarrassment. “Marco.” His feathers ruffled all the way to his tail in pleasure.

You distantly considered it a win he wasn’t insisting on being called some version of ‘brother’. You didn’t care how mesmerizing his plumage was, that was a step too far in your book.

He gave a pleased trill, running his beak through your hair briefly before the fire abruptly cut out. Hands pulled you up against his chest as he hugged you tightly, chin tucked against your hair.

“Now for Oyaji—”

“Absolutely not.” Rather than getting pissed off, Marco seemed to content himself with the ‘progress’ so far. Whispering into your ear.

“We’ll work on it.”

[crehador]

brother crab's winter 2024 parting thoughts: majo to yajuu

GUIDEAU MY MOST BELOVED SHE/HE/THEY GUYGIRL OF ALL TIME I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

I MUST ONCE AGAIN STRESS THAT THESE ARE THE SAME GUY:

ok so first

banging beginning and banging finale to this season, the show as a whole as some really fascinating worldbuilding (the most fascinating of which we only got to in the final minutes of the final episode) so i really hope we get another season sooner or later

the middle was a little less memorable to me but at no point did i feel overly disappointed or bored, it wasn't always outstanding but it was consistently enjoyable and entertaining to me

but now back to guideau

GUIDEAUUUUUUUUU WHAT A CHARACTER!!! i will be using his pronouns interchangeably bc it is what she deserves uwu (tho tbh i do not think guideau would ever give a single fuck about pronouns and that is a huge part of what i love about them)

it's almost a shame that one of my favorite guideau scenes only came in the last episode, he's pissed at a witch who fed her some stew that she can't stop thinking about and wanting more of

so she confronts the witch all like "UNDO THE SPELL YOU PUT ON ME" and the guy he's traveling with has to gently explain to them like "guideau... do you think you maybe just... liked the soup..."

speaking of the guy

looove his eyes, love the way eyes in general are drawn in this series in fact. also love his voice morikawa-san absolutely killed it and i'm thrilled we will continue to hear him this season in the omegaverse anime (lol but no seriously)

ashaf is overall such a striking character to me, not just in terms of his appearance but his whole demeanor and everything. i feel like we haven't even scratched the surface of who he really is or why he's like that yet, so i hope we get more story to flesh that out

i think ashaf and guideau work so well together as the main pair (not necessarily in a romantic way, bit more on that later) because their personalities are just perfectly complementary. it made the middle... i dunno, detour? to phanora feel a bit, i dunno, just misplaced. i actually really enjoyed phanora and johan too, but their story just felt more like an ova and less like it belonged smack in the middle of this season? anyway

absolutely obsessed with the final scene of the season where ashaf says there's still one thing he wants to teach guideau, and that that's love. LIKE HELLO??? ironically this actually made me ship them romantically less, because i really enjoy the idea of this being a sweeping notion of love. nothing so constrained as romantic love, but love for the world, for others, for soup! and for guideau themself

i would love to see more of this animated because the cast is amazing, but if it doesn't get a continuation i'll definitely pick up the manga (probably once it's finished... hopefully it'll be finished...... we'll see)

[hail-brod]

A Chance and Beyond (3)

Previous chapter: (Chapter 2)

Next chapter: (Chapter 4)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Loki x FReader

A/N: Note that I'm not really versed on the concept of time flow in the MCU so things that I will be explaining in this chapter may not be accurate but hej, this is fanfiction. Did try my best to understand Ancient One's explanation with the stones affecting the proper flow of time to integrate here so go easy on me <(＿　＿)>

Might just be making up some things along the way for things to fit!

This is a long one. Hopefully this would make up for the amount of time that took me this long to update.

Warning/s: Tony Stark, cursing, bit of angst.

WC: 5.7k

Doctor Strange confronts you about TVA and you get a nickname from Tony Stark himself. Really, you've had a long day. What else can you possibly expect?

"Time Variance Authority."

"Yes."

"Which is entirely non-existent nowhere within....?"

"The Sacred Timeline." you say. "It is outside the Sacred Timeline."

"Yeah, that." your new found sorcerer friend confirms as Strange's brows crease in thought. "And somehow it's somewhere? A secret organization filled with people who they took from the... Sacred Timeline and then do the dirty work of... pruning other branches of realities. Is that it?"

"Yes." you reply, steady in your seat. Taking in the way he tries to process this new knowledge.

"Now, what exactly is pruning?" he asks, every question he wants to ask mirrored in that look of him. Though, even if uncertainty was still present on his expression, you didn't miss the tinge of fascination dancing around his eyes.

You've been going on with this interrogation for almost twenty minutes now and it's quite straightforward—save for the little questions he add that he strikes as interesting to satisfy his curiosity. Nonetheless, it's nothing but... pleasant.

At most.

Not as stingy as before he is, and you'd wager because of this session giving him the massive information about what's out there, beyond the timeline, beyond the vast universes and you can't help but pride yourself in seeing him so eager yet so stoic in hearing what you have been saying. It's amazing that he manages to look so focused and intent on prying more and yet bits of astonishment seeps through his authoritative nature. That at least confirms that he seems to be believing your words.

But when he starts to explain to you about what he generally knows about timelines and it's flow, you realized that's why.

"The branches that you've mentioned," he inquires. "...you're saying that currently it's overloading because the Sacred Timeline is unkept and unmonitored?"

"Yes..." you confirm. "Yes. It's complicated and.... its hard to manage with so much branches. So everything... everywhere... there are a lot of possibilities growing outside of the proper flow of time."

You hope you understood Ouroboros well. Everything he had explained about the loom and the collapse of all as a result because of the murder of a certain time lord or whatever it is they call him and the possibility of a Multiversal war—as they would call it—was very much ingrained in your mind.

Which is rather a big matter than the world ending.

Because this is about everything ending.

"I'd ask what made that happen," he says. "but one branch of reality splitting outside of the proper flow of time means being overrun. A lot of suffering if I may add." his frown deepens.

You look at him, quite confused. "Well, you mean..."

Wait.

You've realized recently that concepts about time when it comes to sorcery can be quite different compared to the TVA but there's similarities. With what you know, there are the Fates—the Norns consisting of past, present, and future—the ones who weave the people's destiny. But with Strange's field of sorcery, it circles around the Infinity stones; as you've learned from him in your timeline. Plucking one stone out of the flow could result in millions to suffer which then creates the branch.

But in your case, the TVA, it's about the newborn realities that were... apparently unwanted. The dictation of how things should flow is always followed.

Although now, that's the system you and you're friends are trying to break. To renew. Just because of the absurdity of it all. One stray step from the paved path and it's all erased, letting everyone disappear from existence. And you have to thank your TVA friends for stopping that rule.

"Not necessarily..." you trail, downcasted.

"What do you mean not necessarily?" Strange looks at you pointedly, arms crossed. A disapproving sentience directed at you. "You say that's it's overloaded of branches. How is that not aligned to it being terribly diabolical?"

"TVA is different." you answer, holding his stare with certainty. "It's not a causality tied to just the stones, Doctor Strange. It's the causality of every living being."

"Just the stones?" he retorts. "This is about the Infinity stones. Capable of wiping a whole universe."

"I know. Hear me out, will you?" you stop yourself from letting out a frustrated sigh. Though, you almost miss the way he tensed up at how you addressed the most powerful might in the whole universe. You notice there's dread welling in him but he keeps it to himself with a determined look. "TVA wasn't exactly the best when it comes to 'protecting' the timelines. A fuse within the place caused some things to be questioned. The way of things were questioned. Then chaos ensued and the people that I know... who are there—right in this moment—are trying to save the timelines.

You glued your eyes unto him. "The branches aren't suffering, Doctor. They're new realities with living people, writing their own stories." you trail off the last lines.

Your words hung in the air. Silence has never been this loud before but you let him take the time to decide his next words. If you didn't pay much close attention, you could've missed the shift of his stern demeanor to a faint gentleness.

"Are you a variant?" he asks. "Before all of... the messed up timelines?"

For a moment, you froze. You could distinctively feel your chest tighten but you soon shrugged it off in a blink of an eye. "I am. Everyone in TVA is."

"But did you work for the TVA?"

"No." you plainly answered. "It's a very long story."

Something in his stare felt comforting yet enigmatic. At one glance, you'd see someone who's merely doing the job for their own benefit but you've long since started this conversation far enough to grasp what's likely and unlikely. You feel like there's no use hiding your troubles when he seems like he had already seen through you.

"It always is." he says.

You almost sink down on your sit, arms crossed as you avoided his calculating eyes.

"And it must be hard." he continued.

As much as it kept pinching your heart hearing it, you ignore his comments. Whatever it takes.

You sat there, withdrawn compared to before. The refusal that you were showing using silence made you look like a child, having a conversation with their parent for being caught in an unacceptable act. And nor should you want to reveal anything beyond what's he's headed unto. That is your lone past, your burden to carry, to remember. Now, what you aim is to create a new future entangled with the people you've met. That's all that matters.

You keep telling yourself that. Like you're trying to forget every bit that came before you knew about TVA.

The less you remember, the less it can hurt you.

Strange waits in silence but you see him turn away, inhaling. Oddly, he bats an eye on a specific corner in the room but before you could imitate his actions, he continues once again. "If you say that the branches aren't suffering, what exactly is the problem?"

Quite thankful for the shift of questions, you answer. "The proper flow of time." you start. "The massive amount of timelines branching out of the Sacred Timeline leads to chaos. I could say there's a war coming but crucially? There won't even be a war when all of existence is currently set to fade away."

You feel his pointed glance on you and as you look up to him, you see the frown etching up his face. Maybe, you've also spotted a hint of horridness in his eyes.

You know you said it was not a good idea raining these information down to them but this is only Strange. One out of too many. And you trust him to be able to handle such truth.

But you also know he's still a person.

"It's..." you try to say. "I... but I still believe there's a way to save both ways. I just need to get back to the TVA."

His frown did not dissipate, but you see his shoulders slightly drop. "And by trying to use the Time stone, you hope that you might be able to work it out. Correct?"

"Yeah..." you trailed off. "I hope."

I'll take any chances. You think. Even if it's unlikely possible.

"If this doesn't succeed," you continue. "we might have to turn our plans towards technology. I believe Stark and Banner would be very helpful on that, don't you think?"

"You put too much faith on them when you're just a stranger in their eyes." he says, eyes drifting away before back at you. He still wants answers. "I believe you mentioned you fought with heroes. Can I assume the Avengers has something to do with that?"

"You can." you reply, lifting a briefly tight smile. "Your alternate selves aren't that different from the ones that I know of."

He cocks his head up at the information with a plain expression but you see a slight wonder eliciting in his eyes. You sense that he wanted to ask something more as he opened his mouth but he soon diverged on a different one. "How can our technology even reach the heights of what you require to achieve?"

You hesitatingly shrug. "I don't know much but I do know TVA is also managed through... some kind of technology. Maybe it's impossible and unheard of.... but it wouldn't hurt to try."

"A tech outside of time?" he raised a brow quizzically. You only shrugged again which only made him look quite confused. "That's going to be really complex."

"What can a sorcerer say?" you say as you earned a pointed look from him. Oh, he did not like that.

"I was once a man of science and I still am." he sternly says as he tries to hide his irritation. "You have no right to question my profession."

You were quite take aback as you blinked at the small outburst. You contained a laugh. "I meant myself, Doctor."

"Oh."

You gave him a faint lopsided grin but made no further step in rousing his mistake. He eyed you down as his irritation slowly dissipates into a softer glare. As if saying that you should shut your mouth.

No matter what universe he is in, he's still devilishly good at intimidation....not that he has intimidated me before tremendously...

You tell yourself.

You almost feel like somewhere out there, someone is laughing at your interrogation session.

"Right..." he slowly says then breathes. "I'm going to take your word for everything that you've told me. But if you want to use the sto-"

You we're already most intent on listening to what he has to say but oh, it seems like you've almost forgotten about one of your bodily and existentially issues once you felt the odd feeling of tight gripping within your guts. The nerves you felt while hearing his response catches up to you but in this manner, it twists your whole form.

You warped and deformed. Maybe some part of rousing your nervousness can be the trigger to time-slipping.

Though, you can certainly say you didn't miss this.

Once your body steadied, you opened your eyes.

And you met the luminescent light of green, blinding you for a few seconds before you registered the culprit of it all.

Strange stands back a few inches away from you compared to the last time he stood moments ago and what's also entirely new is the opened eye dangling upfront his chest.

The Eye of Agamotto.

Soon, you did notice the green rays of light was extending to your own form, hugging you with it's cool yet warm sensation. You think at first that the magic engulfing you felt so foreign because this is the first time you've interacted with a Time stone—but at the same time... it's not.

It wasn't foreign. No. It's just somehow.... bigger and... overpowering than how it usually feels.

How it usually feels...That can't be right.

But your eyes catch sight of Strange's face as your view gradually cleared. His hands stuck out with the same circular engravings you've always associated him with, but instead of a fiery orange hue, it was now gleaming in green.

"You okay?" he tries to assure, brows creasing.

You let the feeling sink in, exhaling. "I... I think so. What did you do?"

"I used the Time stone. As what you have wanted and what I was about to say." he answers, slowly lowering his hands. You see remnants of franticness on him. "But I actually have no idea what I did. Just casted it's powers on you."

You frown at him. "That's not very reassuring."

"Well, you asked for it." he jested, but his expression lightly softens. "You don't feel any different, do you?"

"I believe not..." you say, stretching your fingers, cranking your neck and checking for any anomalies that may have occurred to your physique. "I am... fine."

"Let's hope that does the magic. I don't particularly know how the TVA works or anything out there when confronted with magic but..." he explains, giving you a knowing look. "..it wouldn't hurt to try. At least it didn't hurt, did it?"

You eye him gently as you shake your head and you catch the distinct break of his gaze to a calmer one.

You feel anew.

You don't look different but you certainly feel lighter as the magic of the stone courses through you. It doesn't affect you in a way how the Time stone manipulates time, but in a way that just...holds you together. But for how long? This could only be temporary and you have no qualms with that, but the fact that this very stone can be effective and useful for the TVA, brings a sense of hope to you. Magic may be nullified in that place but exterior to that, the Time stone could be boundless when used to get there.

You really hate magic nullification.

But that's just speculation. Only actions can prove it.

"What we're you going to say again?" you asked him, quite disoriented.

Strange blinks. He then recalls to his previous sentence, shaking his mind off to focus back on his point. "As I was saying, I will be the only one using the Time stone. And well, that's been done. But the next attempt at using it, you tell me and I'll help." he was back yet again at his stern mannerisms but this time, he seems more...friendly? "Understood?"

You almost mindlessly nod but you tethered yourself up to a clear nod. Before you could say something else, he speaks up, slowly looming before you.

"And I haven't fully given my trust to you. I don't wanna keep threatening you for that but....betray us and you have the whole Avengers' team for an enemy." he stands back with a content expression, almost giddy-like. "Hope that's about clear."

Believe me, you say to yourself. I wouldn't dare.

One thing for sure, you're just glad that he agreed to help you.

After you gave Strange your thanks, a genuine one at that, he replies it with an equally genuine nod...

Then sends you back in your blinding cell.

Thankfully, this time he didn't opened a portal below you to fall in but heeded your previous word of preference. Though, you admit that it's still uncomfortable on your part to experience the shifting of environment once again.

At this point, you'd think that you may have earned the right to be free, out and about from your irritatingly bright cell, but it seems like the Avengers are tough to convince when they suspect you as some kind of an enemy. To give it thought, that is understandable. Yet, it cannot be help to feel some sort of annoyance towards it.

The vast space of the cell seems to mock you of out of the comfort that you once knew. You honestly preferred the brightly lit orange office that the TVA emanates. Even the bustling time analysts rushing in different directions across the place breathes you a little bit of life.

There's the kindness and assurances of Mobius.

O.B.'s chirpy smile after saying something absurd.

B-15's gentle heart whenever she explains the worth of those branches.

Some sort of joke Casey doesn't seem to be able to comprehend.

The look Sylvie gave you when you told your tale of escape from the past TVA. And as your disbelief hindered you speechless after knowing who she really is.

And Loki.

How one look of him for the first time after you we're captured, broke your heart into a bittersweet mourning.

Not that he died in your timeline. Well, at least you almost thought he did.

But to be ripped out of that reality and then wipe it off of existence is like losing everything you have ever loved. As if a world just died with no remnants nor echo to prove the wonders of that life. Which is, unfortunately, the case.

Except, only for you alone to witness it.

It's no different when compared to death. B-15 knew that.

The Loki that you met in the TVA may not be the one that you knew, but it was still quite hopeful for you to see that maybe not everything was lost. Maybe you can still belong somewhere. Or see your old friends and family again. Even if at some point, it's bound to hurt you, to know that you're an anomaly, a displacement in every single universe that you'll end up in.

To feel like an imposter.

But the cast of friends you made with Mobius and the others gratified you somehow. And you're not ready to let that go. You want to help fix the TVA then after that....perhaps you can decide your next steps.

Breathing in, your thoughts speak. Look ahead, fool. You'll fare well without those memories. Starting all over again can't be that awful...

You berate yourself albeit hesitantly.

Though, is it really worth forgetting everything you've come to cherish? There's a feeling that tells you, yes, your inner turmoil would not exist no more if you'll just forget those moments in your timeline. But you know that's not what you want. And you also know the aching pain of loss is truly unwanted for anyone, yet you feel inhumane to choose not to feel that.

What does it matter?

You can't help but drift your eyes in a moment of daze as you unconsciously fly your fingers to your other hand, caressing the ring that sits there. You then bring your eyes down to it.

It looked simple yet...enriched. Just like how Asgardians do very much love their golden treasures and land, your ring was no different. Though what makes it special is it's carved runes rounding the accessory to which it bestows it's means of definition to bind.

They call it the Asgardian Betrothal ring.

The name says it all. But besides that, another memory catches up to you when you're brought to look upon your halved severed finger to where your ring lays. Unusual it is, but you've grown used to it's sight and the remembrance it leaves on your heart is clear as the day. You thought at first you could not bear the bizarre feeling of a missing finger, but time proves you lesser so.

Because it does look quite cool, as what Midgardians would say.

Nonetheless, the might to have experience the cause of it stems deeply in your mind.

The Dark Elves did truly ensure that.

As you trace your fingers against the ring, you can't help but think how good of a combination a severed finger and a ring could be together. It sounds absurd, you admit. Especially when it kind of metaphorically shows how your supposed marriage have been cut short—like your finger.

An omen you don't want to think too much even as though your situation have gotten worse, more or so than it predicted.

My Norns, you think. do you even exist? Or is this just punishment?

Your face fell into a deep pained frown.

Loki was your fiancé.

Your Loki that withered away because of the TVA.

Your marriage with him had pended for a long while for various reasons. You can't say royal courts have no squabbles at all because that would be unreal. And as a daughter in court, you've learned your fair share of duty that comes with it. But when you say royal court, that mainly involves the royal family.

And Loki's folks doesn't have the simplest of all families, but contrary to that.

It didn't bother you both much for your betrothal was never stemmed from your hearts. It was only a matter of arrangement on the All-father's part. He only asked of you to perform a duty for the realm and for Loki to be the second prince that he is.

Or so you thought.

Though, people know it themselves of each and everyone's reputation in the royal palace, they see Loki as an outcast among them but that didn't deter you to form a some sort of....acquaintanceship with him.

And there's no possible in Hel you would admit to yourself that he didn't became dear to you.

It has come far more than that.

Which then spelt your doom.

Luckily, no more time-slipping for you.

At least in the last few hour or so. It seems like the Time stone proved you well of it's abilities—for the most part.

You just don't want to assume.

As you busied yourself conjuring a dozen projection of tiny floating petals by your palm, dancing along the illusion of a wind, a few heavy steps interrupt you. You crane your neck to see the three men that entered the area, standing just right behind your cell barrier. You see Doctor Strange, Bruce and Tony.

You lightly frown.

They look like they have so much to say. Am I in trouble?

Bruce opens his mouth to speak but Tony butts in. "Hey, congrats, you're free." he then smiles at you and slides it down quickly to an unamused look. "Mister wizard here says you're worth the shot to help, though I disagree since, well- everything you we're saying sounded like a lot of bullshit-"

"Tony, hey." Bruce cuts in, giving him a disappointed sigh. "We talked about this."

You raised a brow. 'you we're saying'?

"I know, I know." he surprisingly says as he waved his hand off to Bruce to let him talk. "Let me finish this. Like I said—bullshit. But," he paused for awhile, eyeing you in seriousness. You don't miss the hesitation lingering in his expression. "the dangers you claim sounds a lot of a big deal than whatever we've known so far and I don't take lightly in trusting some....Time Pasta from out of nowhere. But it seems like you've got admirers in the team and they outnumber me. Which is dumb by the way."

You see Strange roll his eyes beside him. Though, you somewhat feel relieved to hear that the majority of the Avengers favor you well enough to help. You don't really mind the small distrust for now but at least—like Strange apparently said—you're worth the shot to help.

"So you're..." Tony continues as he taps a few times on his...bracelet? And then looks up to you with a swipe of his finger towards your barrier. In less than a second, it completely dissipates in little pixels, the whole wall gone right before you. "a free woman. And yes, don't try anything fishy or....'you have the whole Avengers' team for an enemy.'"

"Okay, that's it." Strange gives Tony a stern look.

But Tony stays his eyes on you. "You're lucky Bleecker Street Magician vouched for you."

"Hold on." you halt them, frown deepening. "You we're watching our interrogation?"

Strange turns to you. "Trust me, they insisted."

"You could've at least told me." you retorted. You we're quite upset but you guess it's better they see the whole clear picture of your story rather than just planting suspicions on your motives and existence.

The sorcerer gives you an apologetic look.

"Oh, how can we not pry? You we're the suspicious one who came out of literal nowhere." Tony gives you a satire grin.

Fair point. At this point, would it be bad if they knew? Probably. You don't learn these things in your daily life even if you're a superhuman who can do magic or a genius in an iron clad suit. But then, they seem to be taking it quite well.

You think.

You exasperatedly sigh "Fine. I get it."

"Good." he replies then eyes you intently while he pulls something out of his blazer. You wait to see what it is and you see a tiny speck of something red between his fingers as he stretches it out to you. "Gummy bear?" you stilled and only eyed it suspiciously but you quirk up an amused brow. "No? Yeah, well, have it your way." and he eats it himself.

Of course he offers snacks whenever you least expect it. your mind speaks. A feature of every Tony Stark, I suppose.

Maybe it's also a good sign he's offering you so.

You glance amongst them for a few seconds before you can step out and down from your acquainted cell that you will never miss. Any left cautiousness you saw from them when you first appeared have leveled down just a bit. That heightens you down to an ease. You want them to know that you can be truly trusted so you walk patiently as you observed them.

Now that you've crossed out, Strange speaks up. "How's your time-slipping? I doubt people wouldn't get scared of you if every passing second your body's ripping apart."

"Yeah that," Bruce joins in with a concerning glance. "it really- it looks horrible. You're like...a walking horror movie."

You don't know if you should be offended or be guilty to have made people feel that way but you blink away. Whatever a 'horror movie' is. You just let out an 'Oh' as you turn to answer Strange's question. "But yes, I think it's working."

The said man sags his shoulders down in relief. "That settles that for now then. In the meantime, I need to go back." Strange turns around and opens a portal to somewhere you can't quite recognize.

"Where are you going?" you crease your brows at his leaving figure. "What about our deal and plan?"

He stops and looks back to you, exhaling. "We can start tomorrow. Surely, you've had a very long day."

You softened your gaze. He's right. Was it even day or night? You've been everywhere and moving from place to place before you came. Then, questions thrown for you to answer. Maybe a rest should do you good.

Strange sees your ease and receives the message, giving you a single comforting nod. He then finally enters the portal as it closes to a speck of dot.

You're glad that he's warming up to you even if just a bit.

You're now left with the two genius scientists with Tony picking up the lead to say something. "And that's also my queue to leave." he looks at you. "Also, Bruce is right. You're not just a walking 'horror movie'—you're a walking 'Horror Time Pasta Movie' so you won't be going anywhere without supervision. Who knows what else is happening to you."

You have no idea what you're hearing. But you make it a point to tell him that you have a name.

"Yeah, you-who-whatsoever. You're still Time Pasta for me." he says with a fake smile then turns around to head for the door. "Remember, you're being watched around here!"

You don't doubt you are. A 'free woman' he says. Now my whole prison is just the entirety of this building.

You could always magic your way out but where would you go? And it isn't worth the risk when their trust relies on that terrible decision. You just need to find a way back to the time organization that you realize you've been quite obsessing over now.

You shrug it off. You need to lay down and rest.

That's also when Bruce speaks up. "Don't mind Tony. He's always like that and he still has a good heart." your eyes snap to him as he walks towards the door. He gestures for you to follow as you complied. There's a hesitation in his tone as he continued. "I did hear that you we're allies with us in your timeline, so you probably know how he is. Unless, maybe, he's more of a jerk there..." he turns to you with an apologetic look.

You chuckled. "Well, nothing's particularly changed I supposed. We're usually more on good terms." you eyed him kindly.

He huffed. "Wait, really?" you nodded.

He started to ask questions about multiverses. He gets so expressive with his reactions when he hears something so different and unexpected. But he also mentions a bit about Thor and Loki.

"Thor warmed up to you so easily." he says. "I mean, he could be biased because you're one of his people but I guess that works well for you. He really tried talking it out to them on your behalf."

Your heart softens at that. And you don't know what to think. There's that lightheartedness washing through you and you miss the feeling.

He then continues. "Even Loki acted different."

You dart up to him. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, like," he starts. "he's actually willing to side with you��which he doesn't usually does with anyone. Especially when you just came here this morning."

Oh, you echo in your head. it's only been that long?

But you go back to his words. "Loki is?"

"Yeah," he looks to you. "you're close with him? With his- what do you call it again? Va- Variant?"

You inhale. "Variant, yes. But no, you call them Variants if-" you pause, not wanting to ramble more about the TVA and anything about it. You've said enough relating to that topic and you don't think you can handle more mentions of its complexity.

Seriously, it's tiring.

"Nevermind." you defeatedly sigh as you gave him an apologetic look. "Yes, I know...Loki."

He seems to notice your tiredness and hesitation. You try your best to bring up a smile but it just became strained.

If Bruce ever saw your sadness, he didn't mention it.

You skim back to what he said about Loki. You can't deny that it's odd that he would side with you in this circumstances considering that your interactions so far where not quite good. But at the same time, it gives you a sense of warmth to know that he would.

Though, you don't want to delude yourself further if this escalates differently.

As you tagged behind him, which soon changed with you walking side by side, you take a moment to survey the halls you we're passing by. It was increasingly different than you expected. But as you walked further, the scene shifts to a few turns, then stairs as you go up and finally catch sight of the glass paned walls that lets you see the vast fields outside of the compound. Though, only a few specks of lights we're radiating the field so you don't see much because it is night time.

You hear the faint voices and steps of Tony right ahead but you don't see him. It gets closer and closer as the echo surrounds the place as you lastly hear cusses like 'shit' or 'dammit' that slowly fades away into silence.

It seems like he already left.

You realized you actually don't know where Bruce is leading you, so you ask. "Where are we going exactly?"

"Oh yeah, my bad." he replies apologetically. "Tony wanted me to show you to your room. And don't worry, this time it isn't a prison."

You somewhat light up at that.

You then stare at Bruce whose slightly ahead of you now. You think that maybe you should thank him for...well, almost and kind of, for siding with you during the previous arguments. He's always been such a kindhearted soul to everyone including you, and you guess he always will be.

"Thank you," you suddenly say. He shifts his attention to you in wonder. "for putting up with me."

His brows lift up and he softly smiles. "Don't mention it."

After you had bid your farewells with Bruce and with you being able to settle in your new room, you take everything in.

He was right. Not a prison.

Everything looks normal and comfortable but also too sophisticated than you preferred. But nonetheless, you'll do away with it because you can't afford to be fussy over little things.

The bed was made up with white blankets and pillows. A few Midgardian necessities on a vanity just across the bed. Then a door that probably leads to the bathing quarters along with a massive wardrobe that you will unlikely need and a seating area just right where you entered. It's fairly big but it honestly cannot contend compared to Asgard's chambers.

"Then again," you mutter to yourself. "this isn't a royal palace."

As you surveyed more for awhile, your sight catches the wide windows that behold the scene outside. This time, you see everything clearly as the moon rays illuminates the night and you stand there for a moment basking in the serene view.

It's calm, you thought. yet there's a storm coming.

You just revel for awhile in the moment as your previous tiredness sinks in. You've ran enough. It's time for you to settle, even just this once.

But before you could turn around to head in bed, you hear someone mutter your name with frantic breaths just a few feet from behind. And as you panicked to hear someone else in your room, you look back to see...nothing.

No one.

Have I gone mad? you frantically think.

But you heard it clear as day.

You heard Loki call for you.

Previous chapter: (Chapter 2)

Next chapter: (Chapter 4)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

'A Chance and Beyond' taglist:

@oscarissac2099

Ko-fi?

[hershelchocolate]

Gregory was the one to crash the elevator, not the Mimic

Hi I'm making a theory post because me and my bestie are so fucking deep in thinking about Ruin and how it completely changes the game of Era 2 fnaf so bear with me! This one has a long road to get there, but it'll be worth it I promise.

First off, just to establish some ground rules, I am following what Scott himself said about the books when they first came out and refusing to see book-only events as canon. Nothing about the Mimic we see in Ruin can be tied to the version from the books, so I'm not going to be using ANY book material as evidence unless it's also been shown in the games. The books have always taken plot points and twisted them to make something new, the Mimic is no different.

I also think Gregory deserves to be a little shit sometimes but that actually didn't cause this theory, it was a whole thing and I am forcing you all to follow along with me

(All images I use to explain things (as well as some of the points I make) were sent to me by @arcaneyouth thanks for taking the time to go through the game bestie!)

Okay. Hopefully this makes sense.

1. The Mimic that we know goes as far back as Help Wanted

I know I said this was going to be a long rant, so yes we are indeed going this far back so I can establish some things I find vital. After Ultimate Custom Night, Help Wanted was a HUGE shift in the franchise, to the point where everything after UCN is basically its own timeline. Fazbear Entertainment exists, and they did commit crimes, but Scott exists in-universe and there's no evidence Afton is anything more than a fictional villain FE can point fingers to.

Enter: the Mimic

It's been here the entire time, taking the form of Glitchtrap and learning through the code put into the game. All of its distorted voice lines are taken right from Tape Girl's files, and it seems to be emulating the thing that made people so fascinated with fnaf: the murders and who did them. So, it picks the form of a yellow bunny, but it's distorted. Spring Bonnie has never properly existed, so it chooses its own shape, which is easier as Help Wanted is entirely digital (similar to the AR world in Ruin).

Now, the most important part of this is hard mode night terrors: Pizza Party.

Now, it's implied in Help Wanted that you are simply testing this game. You are the next beta tester from the company that got sent the game after Tape Girl's got shut down. The game is unfinished, and still contains her tapes as well as things that wouldn't usually be there during a finished game (I can see why they kept the unfinished Showtime button in there because of this, and why there are some random events that can happen).

So because of this, it's very possible that Pizza Party...doesn't exist.

They didn't have a finished ending to the game yet, but the Mimic had been watching you play, and wanted to keep going. Maybe it was studying you, maybe it was studying the game, but it needs the game to be on to study either. So, to give you a fun final challenge, it creates Pizza Party.

It doesn't make sense. Corridors connect to each other in strange ways, bits and pieces of every single minigame are strewn about randomly, with characters only doing the simplest of actions (Chica going for a pizza, Marionette sitting in its box, Springtrap standing in a doorway, etc.) All of this leads to that finale we all know and love; taking Freddy's place on stage.

And here is where the first thing relevant to Ruin comes into play.

One thing from this ending dialogue doesn't match up. It's in that third image.

The narrator refers to himself in the first person.

Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but he has NEVER done that in this game before. It's always "we" or "Fazbear Entertainment". Never "I", or in this case "my". It even replicates the exact phrasing and structure of the sentence before it, it's the same sentence. This is the Mimic.

And here's the proof;

2. It literally does the exact same thing in Ruin (aka: how it affected the VANNI system)

Now, those of you who have played Ruin may have noticed that, in certain dialogues, Helpi looks...different.

Points where Helpi is yellow seem to indicate times when the Mimic is manipulating what it says (anything that tells Cassie how to shut down the security, anything that gets her deeper into the Pizzaplex. Helpi only goes back to blue to clarify what it said to keep her safe while doing it).

But there's one other thing that's different

Just look at all of those instances of first person language.

And, in case you're wondering, Helpi NEVER does this

Helpi talks in a very corporate way, always only referring to Cassie herself. Helpi isn't a character, it's a tutorial program.

This implies one really huge thing: The Mimic has access to the VANNI network and what it can do. It's using this to push Cassie further into the Pizzaplex, but there's also one thing in particular it's connected to.

3. The Mimic learned how to splice together sentences after connecting to the VANNI network

As stated before, the Glitchtrap in Help Wanted is heavily implied to be the Mimic (there is SO much more evidence I didn't touch on) but the most important part was what I stated before: It was using dialogue from other people to make its own sentences. But not in the same way it does in Ruin.

In Help Wanted, ALL of the dialogue implied to be from the Mimic is direct sentences it has taken in their entirety. It's not making something new, it's just repeating back what it's heard. That's clearly not the case in Ruin, it's talking all the time! It's able to instruct Cassie on what to do!

But, all of the things it says are bits and pieces from Gregory's dialogue in Security Breach. ALL of it. It just learned, through Helpi and the VANNI system, how to start piecing together its own sentences that still make sense. In fact, you can hear it very clearly right when you get towards Roxy Raceway, and Gregory announces he "finally has a clear signal", one that lets you hear exactly where all those cuts in the dialogue are happening.

Almost immediately after you deactivate Roxy, you get this popup

After this happens, there are only a few things the Mimic says to you.

All of these are direct 1 to 1 quotes that Gregory himself has said in Security Breach. (The exception being Cassie's name, but the Mimic would have had to heard him say it at some point in the first place to have been using it all this time)

As soon as the VANNI network became disconnected, the Mimic no longer had access to what it was using to splice together audio.

The fact that "you saved me!" is said differently twice is even proven by Help Wanted where, even though the line it copies in that ending dialogue is just said again, it's delivered differently.

Which leads to the ENTIRE point of this post: the Mimic did NOT interrupt Gregory in the elevator.

It has been proven even without all of this in-game that the Mimic isn't quite that good at fully replicating things yet. You can hear the splices as soon as you get close enough to it, it even points out that it finally has a clear signal, which was the reason Cassie never noticed before. Not to mention that Gregory never said anything like his speech before. None of that dialogue was in Security Breach.

None of the elevator speech was the Mimic. That was all Gregory.

[lyriquette]

Old RWBY AU description from Frosen Steel chat server - 3/31/2021

lilac — 03/31/2021 12:43 AM

--- After an hour or so of tossing and turning in bed to no avail, I suddenly have an idea for an AU. 8)

---

Searching through Atlas's archives, a young impressionable Penny discovers a digital scan of an ancient translated version of the Tale of Two Brothers within. The previous owner of the book had written notes.... well, rants....in the margins about how the God of Darkness deserved to have no worshippers and that both gods were pieces of shit.

Still, the tale fascinated her about how the gods had actually created Remnant and humanity, sorta like how her dad created her from nothing. And it was also kinda sad cause it sounded like the God of Light got all the credit for making humanity if the lack of worshippers for the God of Darkness meant anything.

He kinda reminded her of her dad. Because before Dad made her, people was always taking credit for his work, even though he did 99% of it. But her dad was too nice to make a fuss.

You know what. I'm gonna worship the God of Darkness now and no one can stop me!

----

Her dad had been pretty cool about the entire thing after she explained it, even bought some books about prayer rituals and worship. (He assumed Penny was just going through a phase.)

And so one day, Penny got all the stuff she needed and began praying to the God of Darkness every day.

------

lilac — 03/31/2021 1:44 AM

In a galaxy far far away, the God of Darkness just stared in dismay as another bunch of his worshipers got exterminated again. By the Church of Light no less.

He really wanted to toss an energy beam down there, just to let the stupid ants know that 'hey these are my worshippers', but that'd break the rules he and his brother made.

To be honest, if he actually liked them, he might even done so anyway.. but really, he knew they had it coming. He liked destruction and mayhem as much as the next God, but there's a line between destruction and intentionally torturing and making people suffer - a line his worshippers regularly crossed with the whole skinning and dismemberment alive thing. The sad thing was they literally were all he had.

eriously, why did he get stuck with all the crazy cultists? He wasn't like that. Sure, he had a bit of a temper problem like most gods did when it came to pride, but he hadn't genocided anything since he left that stupid planet wi-

Oh. That human. That Salem. It still made his horns quake just remembering it. He thought he was going to get his very first genuine worshipper, intelligent and sane and wishing for favor. And he granted her the favor, even paid the horrendous price of pulling a soul from the world and encasing it into a mortal shell. And for what? She was just using him.. only came to him cause his older brother wouldn't give her what she wanted,, and he got played like a fool.

And when she got all those greedy humans to rise up against them - to try and demand immortality from them - okay yeah, genocide probably wasn't the brightest solution, but he was what- like a million years old at the time and going through a phase- he's easily ten times that by now.

"Oh, and there goes your worshippers again," said a very unwelcome voice in a tone that didn't seem smug but really was meant to be smug.

"I have a moon and I'm not afraid to drop it," the God of Darkness sourly replied to his brother as he turned his attention back on the last of worshippers getting cleaned up by his brother's.

Wait, that'd probably kill everything in the planet - damn it.

Eh?

Did they miss a spot? Why was he still receiving faith?

"That's the last of them," the God of Light remarked, "Hopefully it won't take another dozen millenia for people to discover your existence again."

...Ignoring his brother's gloating, he directed his attention towards the source of the thin stream of faith.

...Was that Remnant?

He glanced at his brother. He was going to ask if his brother had sensed something from the world they abandoned. But you know what? Fuck him.

"Ugh. Shut up. I'm going to destroy a couple uninhabited planets. See you in a couple millennia or something." he pretended to grumble as he transformed into his dragon form and flew off.

"Sure, brother. Come back soon," the God of Light replied before directing the entirety of his attention back on the world they currently lived in.

The God of Darkness could only roll his eyes as he flew off towards the world they abandoned: Remnant.

---

lilac — 03/31/2021 2:42 AM

Creates an avatar of himself as a Grimm squirrel... human girls like cute things right. This should be an acceptable disguise, right?

It takes him months to create a squirrel that didnt look monstrous enough to get shot on sight by Atlasian security. And since he didn't actually know if his worshipper actually cared about these humans, he can't just go on a murder spree to get through.

Penny gets to learn that though gods, though very powerful and already born fairly intelligent, gain insight and learn very very slowly. Even GoD will admit humans are incredibly fast in that regard.

[heartlandians]

Filling Empty Spaces (Amy/Mitch), part 219

Mitch and Amy find an unexpected connection due to absent lovers. Set around season 11->.

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this story, so hopefully there won’t be too many grammar errors.

****

Mitch glanced at his laptop's screen where he still had the Facebook tab open as he held onto his cellphone. Just few minutes ago he had been lost in the world of finding Leah, but now after Lou's call all he could think about was Amy.

If the call from Lou had felt awkward and uncomfortable for him, he couldn't help but wonder how it had felt for Amy, who was - after all - in a much more vulnerable position with this.

Slamming the computer's top cover close, Mitch turned around and walked into his living room, simultaneously looking up Amy's number from his phone.

After pressing the phone against his ear, he could hear the call trying to connect.

Mitch's gaze was directed at the line of cottonwoods at his backyard, drinking in the beautiful sunlight, and among them were deer, following a narrow path to cross his property.

Any other time, it would have been a fascinating watch, like nature's own screensaver, but right now all he could think about was the possible damage Lou had been able to impose on her sister.

"Hi", Amy answered after a click noise.

Mitch could immediate tell she had either been crying or was about to, as her voice trembled a little bit. It only made him more concerned.

The distance between them wasn't much, as they were at neighbouring ranches, but it felt like she was on the other side of the world right now as he couldn't just go over to Heartland and hold her.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Mitch asked right away.

Amy let out a sigh.

"Not really", she admitted. "But how did you know to call me right now as I'm about to crumble...?" she wondered, thinking it was almost like it had been scripted.

"Lou called me too", Mitch shared. "I suspect right after you ended your phone call."

Amy scoffed.

"She told me she had to go because she had something else to do, but... she called you instead", she recounted for herself, somehow feeling even more stupid than before. "Why did she call you, anyway?"

There was no jealousy or animosity in her voice, just pure curiosity.

"She tried to ask me to keep my distance, and when I refused, there wasn't anything she could really do. I mean, it's our life", Mitch said, aimlessly walking around the living room. "Do you want me to come over?" he asked, even though they had decided that he would not drop by to see Amy until people were aware of them.

But it didn't hurt to try.

Maybe situation had changed now that Amy was feeling the way she was.

"No", Amy refused, as expected, "not that I wouldn't want that but... it's just... I feel like I don't have the energy to explain everyone here why you're coming over exactly, especially when I'm a mess like this..."

"I don't want you to be alone, Amy", Mitch said.

There was a brief pause on the line before Amy continued.

"Meet me at the meadow. I'll take Spartan for a ride", Amy planned.

"Okay. I'll be there", he promised.

****

Mitch had laid down a blanket on the grass, next to an old fallen log, on top of the hill where they could look at the scenery, but also have some privacy for a conversation.

Maverick was standing close-by, swishing away flies in the shade of the trees, while they waited for Amy and Spartan to join them.

The man checked his phone, wondering if maybe Amy had texted him that she'd be a little late, but when he saw no message notifications, Mitch tried to just trust that she'd be here when she'd be here.

For some time now, Mitch had learned that patience wasn't his strongest quality - but it was something he was actively working on. Instead of pacing around, like his body almost demanded, Mitch decided to sit on the log, to try and focus on enjoying the moment; the scenery, the weather, this nice summer day.

He had to stop doing this, going at every chaotic moment like he had to be able to save everyone from whatever they were going through. He could be there for Amy, offer his support, but that was it. He didn't need to be some type of hero.

He was good enough like this.

Breathing in, breathing out, Mitch tried his best to relax.

As far as places to relax were concerned, he couldn't have picked a better spot than this.

"Hey", Amy's voice said behind him after a while as he was still sitting on the log, grounding himself.

Mitch turned his upper body toward Amy, still having the worry over her, but now feeling more rejuvenated just from that small moment of centering himself.

She looked like an angel, with the way the sunlight beamed behind her and lit her outlines on fire.

"Hey", he said, getting up just as Amy unmounted Spartan and brought the horse closer to Maverick, tying him loosely so he wouldn't wander off. "I'm glad we were able to still meet up."

Amy nodded, then stumbling toward him in the long grass, and without saying anything, sought his cover almost like it was the only way she could breathe out the ache within her.

Mitch wrapped his arms around her, pressing his cheek on top of her head, allowing her to take her time. Her warm breath seethed through his t-shirt and onto his skin, sending a signal of connection through his body.

Now he was fully grounded.

"So..." Mitch said after a while when he felt Amy leaning back, "do you want to talk about it?" he asked, gesturing toward the blanket he had rolled over the grass.

"Yes, I do, actually", Amy nodded, sitting down.

Mitch sat next to her, leaning onto the log just like she did.

"I just feel like... the more I talk about my feelings - the more I explain myself - the more I'm being... misunderstood or misinterpreted, almost like on purpose", Amy sighed, shaking her head and blinking off the tears that she couldn't hold back.

Her tone was worn out, as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"And after a while it just gets exhausting to even try to be heard. Because what's the point? No one listens, anyway... No one wants to hear me", she continued, sounding drowsy.

Wrapping his arm behind Amy's shoulders, Mitch pulled her closer gently.

"And there's just something so cruel about the way sisters know how to inflict pain on each other. It's psychological... Something about the intimacy of it all", Amy scoffed, almost shuddering. "Or that's been my experience, at least", she added, clenching her jaw.

"I'm sorry", Mitch wanted to say. There was a part of him that wondered if he had brought in some of that pain, but Amy's last sentence made it sound like maybe it ran deeper than here and now. "Do you feel like you at least could say everything you wanted to say to her?"

"I did, but... I don't know how much of it she heard", Amy's voice trailed off into a mumble. "But... whatever. I tried. I can't put my energy into that anymore. It's too draining. At some point I just gotta live my life", she sighed heavily.

"Well, you have a right to live your life like you want", Mitch said, figuring maybe Amy needed someone else to say it in order to feel validated. "Not just with this, but... whatever it may be."

"I know... but I just feel like my feelings have been weaponized against me. I've shut down and not expressed my needs, because it's been safe, but I don't want to do that anymore. Especially not with you, when this feels so right and when you make me feel so alive", she said, looking at Mitch.

Mitch kissed her forehead gently, hoping it would let her know he felt the same way.

"But I feel like I'm not allowed to, for some reason. Like everyone else has a plan for me that I should follow. But I don't want that. I want this. I want my life", Amy went on.

Mitch nodded, then kissing the top of Amy's head again and caressing her shoulder.

"And if I don't do that - if I don't live my life - I'm afraid I become sad again. Like everyone else will be happy, but I will be sad", Amy was hardly able to push the words pass her vocal cords. "And it's so terrifying to feel sad..."

The man next to her tilted his head back, trying to see her face. He could sense this was a big reaction for her - and maybe there was even a bigger one coming.

"Why?" he asked, as for him sadness was a thing that always passed, just like every other emotion. It was part of life, something that people felt in order to then appreciate the good times.

"Because I've finally been able to find a little bit of happiness for myself, but... if I allow myself to feel sad again, it's scary to have no idea if this just... a bad day or another dive into darkness", Amy said, holding back a sob.

"Hey..." Mitch said softly, his brows furrowing out of worry.

"I don't want to feel like I've felt for years; taking turns feeling sad or numb. It almost destroyed me the last time, I don't know if I'm able to do it again. I don't know if I have any fight in me anymore. I just want to feel happy. I just want to feel happy..." she continued, crying now and turning herself against Mitch, clutching his shirt in her fist.

It was becoming hard for Mitch to convince himself that this moment didn't need some sort of hero to know the right words, but since he didn't have the right words, as he didn't know what there even was to say to make it all go away, all he could do was the best that he could in this moment.

He could listen.

That was what Amy wanted - and needed - in this moment.

And so, he did.

[innitmarvellous]

I would love to hear about you going on a tangent about British politics and stuff. I find stuff like that so fascinating especially as an American so please do tell and any book/media recommendations would be cool Tysm

Whoa, thank you so much and I even feel honoured! :D I'm always happy for an opportunity to bang on about politics. And I'm sorry, but this will be a pretty long post, haha.

Well, I was sort of into politics ever since my school days (oh, the good old days when I had to explain the German electoral system for my exams haha) and I guess I might have studied something politics-related at university if I had the qualifications...but sadly I don't, so it's just something like a hobby for me. Anyway, at first I mostly just followed German politics, but then I got really into British politics in 2016 after the Brexit vote. I started watching the parliamentary debates on Brexit when they showed them on German TV for whatever reason, then later online and idk, that got me hooked. I have been following current events to varying degrees ever since (mostly via the Guardian and the BBC News because I'm sort of a leftie...lol) and I would say it has definitely become one of my main interests. I think nowadays I'm probably better informed about the events in the UK than about the political landscape in my own country (bit sad, but true). Still, I'm definitely no expert and I've got a bad memory, so I find new and interesting bits and books all the time, haha.

Anyway, book recommendations! This will be by far the longest part of this post…of course this is only just about the stuff I've read, so not exactly comprehensive and probably biased because of my personal political preferences, but…hopefully still a bit useful. :) (Sorry for the Goodreads links, but since I use that site to keep track of my reading it was just the easiest solution. Here's also a link to my non-fiction shelf for more stuff…I didn't mention every single book I've read or else this post would be even longer haha)

For a more general overview I would recommend this series of books: UK Politics Annual Update. They are actually for A-level exam preparations, but I found them pretty useful (especially for earlier years when I didn't follow politics yet) and bought almost all of the older editions. Or alternatively, this book was alright if you want want less detail, but still a quite comprehensive overview. Although I didn't really like how the author's personal opinion got obvious from some bits. For a more light-hearted approach, British Politics for Dummies is also pretty good. I've read a few of this series and it's one of the better books.

Getting a bit more specific now…two pretty good books which are mostly about what happens in Westminster and what could be improved about the way British politics work are How Westminster Works...and Why It Doesn't and Code of Conduct. Especially the first one is really good, and it has lots of interesting stuff in the 'further reading' section for the more hardcore nerds. Yeah, I'm currently going through that list, haha.

Also pretty good, but also quite specific are Chums and Butler to the World. The first one is about how modern politics is mostly shaped by people who went to Oxford (and it was quite depressing sometimes, but very interesting), and the second is about how Britain occasionally helps rich people hide their money to pay less taxes and all that. Another good one is The War Against the BBC, but as it's mostly about, well...the BBC it's only politics-adjacent…still worth reading especially since the Tories these days are attacking the BBC all the time and try to undermine it.

As for Brexit, I'm still looking for a really good book about that…but the best one I've read so far is A Short History of Brexit. It's pretty complicated and technical though, and goes into detail about how the UK joined the EU in the first place, so I wouldn't 100% recommend it.

Three quite different, but interesting books written by British politicians are Go Big, Seven Ways to Change the World (ideas about how to improve British or even world politics from two former Labour leaders) and Unspeakable (despite the title it's not just an autobiography but also explains quite a bit about the work of the Speaker of the House of Commons).

Also, no matter whether you're a rather left-wing person or whatever you think about Jeremy Corbyn, this book was really interesting. Of course it's written from a sympathetic viewpoint, but it was generally really interesting to see the phenomenon of Corbynism in the context of the history of the Labour Party. Same goes for this book, although it's also written from a left-wing perspective.

Also surprisingly good and insightful was this short essay about politics by Frankie Boyle. Yes, the comedian.

Oh, and last but not least: I also genuinely think that watching HIGNFY is pretty useful when it comes to getting an overview about current British events. (Well, "current" depends on whether you're watching an old series or the latest episodes, of course. But it's just as good for older stuff, I think. Some things like, idk, scandals usually don't get mentioned in the books, at least not the ones I've read.) Same goes for the Private Eye annuals, although I assume these are more fun if you do have at least some knowledge of what happened in the corresponding year already.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Prescription: Murder

Yeah so here's something different. Very directly as a consequence of me mostly watching anime I don't enjoy recently, but then neither wanting to rewatch anything and being apprehensive about starting something new for a variety of reasons, I felt I needed a change of pace. Just launch myself into something completely different, that I could hopefully be invested in. And Columbo is what I ended up with. It's been implanted into my mind with its somewhat recent resurgance on tumblr, randomly getting recommended the blog Columbophile, seeing the very nice looking DVD boxset for sale in hmv, and the final nail in the coffin being some even more recent twitter memes regarding the series. "Let's watch Columbo" I decided. And here we are.

So, this is my first introduction to Columbo, with its pilot episode. And I liked it! Quite a bit! This is a very different type of media in general for me, so I don't know how much I'll have to say about any given episodes just because they're completely not what I'm used to, but certainly I like where we're at right now.

There's a lot of time well spent on merely setting up the murder - I believe this is what's famous about the series anyway but it's entirely not a whodunnit - we see exactly how the murder happens, exactly who does it, pretty much every part of why they did it, and even a lot of time spent on clean-up. Honestly at the beginning of the episode, Flemming is so meticulous that you begin to wonder how he's even gonna be caught. And throughout the episode they answer that very well, and very very gradually.

It turns into this clash of personalities really, two bright minds up against one another, one intentionally demeaning himself and the other so prideful that he basically admits to everything. But the pair have a read on one another as well - Columbo knows Flemming did it and Flemming basically explains Columbo's entire shtick to us anyway. Undermine himself, present as small, unkempt, distracting, downright annoying most of the time. Flemming gets the read on him but even then Columbo is so persistent and annoying that the man cracks.

Although per the episode's own calling attention to it, Joan was the real weak link in the entire ordeal - frankly she was just less invested than Flemming was, tripped him up because of it. I do think the final scene that plays out to get the confession was maybe a little contrived - wasn't really a conclusion to the bouncing pride and intelligence of Columbo and Flemming, rather just a scenario that came up to end the story, but like, eh. I appreciate that Joan... doesn't quite get off scot-free or anything but she could've had it worse, I think Flemming would rather she had it worse. This ending ends up working the best narratively for pretty much everyone involved. Like if she died it'd be unfair that she had the worst fate even though she was hesitant, you know? This was good.

That's pretty much the main things I've got to say about the episode. Fascinating as a more general statement to go back to a live action show from this long ago - honestly there are devices I don't even recognise, an aesthetic so far removed from my life but recent enough to feel real, or something. It's neat. I don't usually watch anything this old or anything live action to begin with, so like, yeah.

As two other quick little notes - I don't actually know if every episode has a neat title card like this one does, but I would like the format for these posts to be the episode title as the tumblr post title, followed by the episode title card. I hope the show lets me keep to that. Also, I've not got a schedule for this or anything. I've got 68 episodes still to watch which would be a lot even if they were 24 minutes long a la the anime I spend all my time watching. Instead, they're all 70-90 minutes long. I cannot even pretend to promise a consistent "yeah I'll watch it this week" or something. Next post on Columbo will be when I watch the next episode. I will watch the next episode whenever I watch it. You know how it is. But yeah, swag.

[heartofspells]

A totally anonymous ask. Hmmmm. I wonder what YOU is about can we get a snippet 👀👀👀

Oh yes, completely anonymous. I've no idea who you could possibly be. Such mystery, much wow.

YOU is based on the show and previously answered here, but here's another snippet, just for this lovely anon.

--

"Are you following me?"

Shit.

"No?" says Remus quickly but somehow slowly, those piercing grey eyes not unlocking from his face, dark eyebrows pulling more harshly over his sharp features. "All right, yes," admits Remus finally, but the other man's expression only turns darker, Remus holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Sorry. I'm sorry. That wasn't the intention, but it's just…well, that's a great deal of food you've grabbed and I found myself curious."

Those fascinating eyes finally slide away from him, glancing into the loaded trolley at his side, an odd curl overtaking his full lips. Some of the tension leaves the man's face, but only slightly as he angles his stare in Remus' direction again, the large dog standing beside his legs remaining perfectly still and observant.

"I'm not sure why I'm explaining this to a complete stranger," he voices, sounding haughtier than before, a poshness entering his accent that hadn't existed previously, as though he's let himself slip enough to allow it to creep through and hit the air, "but it's called purchasing supplies for animals."

Animals. Plural. Not that it hadn't been readily apparent from the copious amounts of food you've been piling into that trolley, but that should be a red flag, shouldn't it? Mad cat ladies and men spring to mind, but dogs fit in there too if your terrifying companion is any indication. Do you take him everywhere? Why is he just staring at me? What dog doesn't move or sniff? Are you insane?

"That's a lot of animals," spills Remus before he can gain control of his tongue, swallowing any further words as he hides his choking sound. The other man arches one brow, still studying him uncertainly, like he's trying to sort out a unique puzzle. "Sorry," Remus rushes to say. "That was rude. I'm sorry."

The other man hums lowly, his mouth quirking in a different way, one side drawing in and pinching a bit. "I sense judgement," he mutters. "Are you thinking me some mental pet hoarder?"

"Or possibly a farm owner," offers Remus with a polite smile, eyes dropping to the statuesque dog again before flittering back up. "Hopefully the good kind."

"Are you accusing me of owning a puppy farm?"

"No!" cries Remus, waving his hands wildly, the dog and man both tensing with the action. "No, sorry. That – that was a joke."

The mouth twitches again, pulling taut, grey eyes raking down Remus' form quickly before he looks away, gaze shifting around the shelving surrounding them. He exhales a huff of breath, lips parting, relaxing.

"I own a business," he provides, eyes locking with Remus again. "Our food deliveries got delayed and my supply is running low. I'm trying to get enough to hold us over until the shipment comes."

"So…so not a farm then," jests Remus weakly, the dog beginning to slink forward slowly, head outstretched, dark eyes focused and intent. "Er…sorry, but what's he doing?"

"That's Buck," gives the man, sounding unconcerned, still regarding Remus. "He won't hurt you, not unless you give him a reason." Remus swallows nervously. "He's got a good sense about people."

Trying his best not to stiffen on instinct as the dog begins to sniff along his hip and down his leg, Remus watches him closely, going silent and still. Sweat beads his spine, trickling down, almost tickling, but then Buck drops to his haunches, staring up at Remus as he relaxes, mouth falling open and tongue lolling out, tail thumping lightly against the floor.

"Huh," is all the other man says in response.

"Is that – is this good? Have I been judged?"

To Remus' immense surprise, the man's face cracks into a large smile, his head falling backwards in a bark of loud laughter that rings around him, through him.

Oh. Oh, this is you. The real you, open and enchanting, warm. You are a god resting on Mount Olympus.

Send me an ask about a WIP!

[mythgrippa-blog]

Day 0 - rebooting

Hello, call me Mythgrippa! Nice to meet you, the name comes from two fascinations I have, myths and Marcus Agrippa (my favorite Roman). I am currently doing my final year of computer science and I've done a lot, I'll list them out in a different blog post but it was a lot a lot and I'm left with only one semester which I'm quite excited about.

However, I think I must have overworked myself to get to this point, like I'm truly exhausted all the time, can't really focus on my work and having constant feelings of stress and anxiety, I used to be a stallion programmer but I can barely write a few lines of code and not feeling mentally overwhelmed.

This morning, like in the night I woke up to go to the bathroom and couldn't go back to sleep so I went online and got a bit too curious and searched up why I'm like this and found an online blog post which explained all the symptoms I've been experiencing with pin point accuracy.

I'm mentally exhausted, it makes sense because I'm always thinking about whatever school work I have and trying to get good grades, sleeping deep into the night trying to get work done. My performance has been declining, I still get work done but my quality isn't what it used to be. I've also been neglecting self care and not going outside, my skin is starting to show, I'm black by the way and my tone has started feeling... spotty? I don't know, I don't like it. My self confidence has kind of diminished because of it so there's that as well.

So, I still have a lot of work to do, like a software project for school that I'm the leader of, so I have to be the technical lead and also the semester hasn't started yet so I've to prepare for that as well. These are my stressors. I've to stop this mental daemon from running all the time.

To accomplish this, the article I read suggested these 11 solutions

Eliminate the stressors

My stressors would be mostly work, I can't just simply eliminate it because I have to finish this semester, and its not something I can set aside, plus my software project with my group isn't going so well so we gotta work our butts off for that

Work-life balance

Alright, this is part I get because I honestly don't have a life. The closet life I have is the friends I hang out with at school when on break and also the tennis games we go to, but I've mostly been a work person. So, for starters I need a life!!! But where to start... maybe I should start. Perhaps restricting myself to working up to 6 hours or less per day?

I could play video games or watch movies, I mean... hm... I'll try out the other games and watch more TV, I haven't been reading any of my novels or play board games. I'm off Twitter and Reddit, I don't like scrolling mindlessly for hours.

Damn it!! I remember that one of my friends has my board games, no matter I'll just play on ipad, hopefully there are good apps in the app store. I'll see what my other friends have to say. Well I'll see what I will do

Clear your space

I suppose this means I should rid of what doesn't kindle joy, I'm in recess at the moment and I'm back home, I don't have a room of my own so I sleep in my little brother's room (which used to be mine before I moved to uni), the spare that I usually sleep in is occupied by one of my older brothers. This room is a mess and I really can't do much about it other than tidy some stuff but the way things are laid out is just so annoying, so much wasted space. But this isn't my room anymore so I can't really do anything major plus my energy is down the drain.

Schedule (and take) regular breaks

I should take breaks when working, I used to study using Pomodoro and it was quite effective I won't lie but I've lost some of my discipline, at least partly attributed to the main reason I'm writing this in the first place.

How did I go so many semesters without taking regular breaks, not even like five minutes, I'm really a mad lad. I'll try to take at least 5 minutes off per hour, that should make it easier, but what constitutes a break? Doing nothing? I suppose that works

Get outside

In terms of this, I try to go outside but the weather is just so cold, but the sun does feel good but I'm the type of person who likes dark and gloomy weather accompanied by rain and thunder storms, I just really like that, the rain drops crashing onto the roof or window, the warm clothing I get to wear!! Oh my goodness, it feels like a mental refresher because I naturally feel easy and relaxed when there's rain. But I'll try to go out, perhaps a jog every now and then?

Do something new

Something new... well I could really try that, I used to go to the gym but school got so hectic I had to cancel my membership but I think I'll go back since I believe the hardest semester has concluded (last semester was the hardest honestly and I'm glad I made it out alive).

I'll try out other types of sports because I want to regain my stamina and activeness, my right leg though... its fine I'll be fine, I'll buy better shoes and sports gear. I'll try to be healthier, eat my fruits daily, and drink plenty of water.

That's a lot of stuff, how will I manage though? I'll figure it out but at least the idea is there

Reduce screen time

I mean... even though its the start of recess and I'm done with my old modules and the new ones haven't started yet, I'm still checking my emails and notifications, I do have the group project, and I'm doing Computer Science, I need a computer to science god damn it, how am I supposed to reduce that. I'll let this one slide. Because I can't really digitally detox... I'm not ready for that or even see the need to, but I can reduce the amount of time I spend on my phone, no phone time between 10PM and 7AM, that worked before in the past. But as for computer time, yeah I can't really reduce that.

Find positive ways to distract yourself

I used to have this bad habit I'm still recovering, I tricked myself into thinking it could help get the "edge off", I regret it and I'm glad I'm not that person, incase you're wondering its not drugs or weed or alcohol or any bad substances... I've never done any of that, and NO I DON'T VAPE. I'm as a clean as they get, but there's always been something I've been struggling with for almost four years now but I think I've finally learnt to let it go for the better.

You could say it was a negative distraction for myself, but no more of that I just need a positive way to distract myself, perhaps calling up an old friend? I haven't spoken to a number of people, I am messaging someone but they're not a regular person I talk to because of odd response times but I'm one of those people who'll reply as soon as they see your message no matter how long you take because I get people have stuff to do or don't feel like replying at times, its completely normal.

Perhaps I'll start playing games again? But that can get out of hand pretty quickly, actually... having coffee with my best friend can work? Yeah, there are plenty, I'll just ask her (oh yeah, a bit of a rant but I'm a guy, my best friend is a girl so yeah that can be a thing, why don't people get it! Guys and Girls don't have to date to have fun, goodness I hate my class mates, for CS nerds they're sure talkative, they're nice people but JEEEEZ). I'll ask her if I want to be distracted, or my other friends as well

Take care of yourself 

I need to eat nourishing food, I ate a lot of KFC and boy it ain't good for ya, but it helps fill me up but I'll try to be better than that and eat better. I'll start eating from this restaurant I frequent they sell some delicious and nourishing food. I'll also try to sleep by 10 and wake by 7, that should be plenty of rest yeah? I will drink water every day, trust me I'm a water freak.

Focus on what you can control

I can't really do everything, so I should be able to tell others what to do, I am group leader after all. I'll see what I can do and what should be done, I'll delegate and try to organize more. So, that the objective is very clear. I'm not a stallion anymore, I can't code for hours on end like I used to, but luckily there's capable members in my group so I'll delegate the work to them and do my group leader duties.

Talk to a coach or therapist

NO

Well that lists everything, I wrote so much without realizing it, this was all in one sitting so I'm impressed with myself. I always did enjoy writing stories, I'm not as creative anymore but when it comes to stuff like this, I have like 3 filled up diaries.

If you made it this far, I'm so impressed with you, thank you for taking an interest and reading my first public blog (I've written so many private ones that I'll never release because I'm so embarrassed plus its useless and uninteresting, like unfinished stories, other diary attempts, blah blah)

Well thanks again you and I'll see you in the next one

[clay-cuttlefish]

Back to this. I got sidetracked jumping around the spreadsheet and adding some random stuff, but hopefully I should hit the first Renee appearances tomorrow. I also have to track down a version of Death in the Family that has the foreword - it's by Tot and mentions Vic, and was mentioned in the letter column for 28, so it should fit somewhere in this chunk of issues on the spreadsheet.

Question #18

Here he is! I love Ollie and Vic's dynamic. They are so fascinating and so annoying.

You know you've fucked up when Ollie's calling you a dumbass.

I like how much breathing room this issue has. They get a lot of space to talk and highlight each other, which is a great foundation for the later GA crossovers.

Of the unsubtle 80s anti-gun GA stuff I've read (which isn't a lot but it's more than 0) this is one of the less interesting bits. At least it's short.

The panel composition on this issue is really well done. Making two guys talking in a truck into a pair of pages that make me pause to take them in is impressive.

#19

Vic choosing to get the doll fixed is a really strong moment.

Overall, the way Augie is treated is surprisingly good? It's definitely played for creepiness at first, but he's just a guy living a surprisingly decent life for Hub City, Vic tries to actually help him and doesn't judge him for being delusional, and he ends up totally fine.

The parallel between Vic's mask and Myra's makeup, and her choice to discard it, is just. Waugh. She's just as dedicated to trying to figure out the right thing as he is, but she's not hiding any of it!

Myra kissing Maurice is still a very weird moment.

Detective Comics - Fables part 1

Spectacularly terrible opening, 0/10.

It's so weird to see the Penguin after this long of a stretch without supervillains. Yeah Talia shows up first but she's way less gimmicky and the page is pretty calm. He's here in full force with the monocle and bird jokes.

Shiva <333

I don't believe for a fucking second that asking Vic is the best way Shiva can think of to find Batman. I really like it, don't get me wrong. Vic's hacker exposition about making a post on the internet is hilarious, calling Batman Pointy-Ears is hilarious, "Matins" is such a Catholicism Moment, it's good stuff. I just think this is way less likely to work than going to Gotham and punching cops until Batman shows up.

Oh my god this is such a stupid villain plot. What do you mean it doesn't affect people with high testosterone. What do you mean Bruce already knows what it is. Why does Ra's have that. Why would that be the effect you choose for this story.

I'm sure this Bruce and Talia plot is better when read in context but it's still some excellent drama. Love them.

...gender?

Green Arrow - Fables part 2

The overarching plot of Fables isn't good, the O-Sensei is a boring Orientalist stereotype, but all of the subplots are very strong examples of why I care about each series. Scrap the whole O-Sensei thing in the first two issues and just have it be Shiva picking fights and finding people to help someone she knows and it'd be better.

Dinahollie <3

I love getting to see Shiva doing her thing. She's so chill, it's fun to see her in her element :)

Dinahshiva <3

Shiva loves to put some weird little freak in a situation and see if it makes them better or worse, and it sucks she doesn't get to do that anymore.

Question - Fables part 3

All of these issues have great looks for Shiva. Style icon.

Hey, Vic's terrible secret identity came back to bite him!

"Van der Waal's equation" isn't complete technobabble - the Van der Waal's force is a decent explanation for a multi-use adhesive, at least by comic book standards, and would explain why the mask never seems "sticky" and why the chemistry on getting it to stay is so finicky.

It's interesting that Vic doesn't even try to get Shiva to not kill people. He might be self-sacrificing, but he's not that dumb.

Oh my god Bruce you are such a dramatic bitch.

I kinda see what they were going for with the O-Sensei here, at least. Still think it'd be better if he wasn't a ridiculous legendary fighter.

Drowning motif! Shiva's perspective is so interesting - she's able to do anything she puts the effort into, and she expects that to be true of everyone else.

#20

The cover layout is unique this issue, which is a neat touch.

I always like that characters get to say stuff that's sort of dumb. Vic no-selling Myra's joke about boomerang rocks is a nice reminder that they do really like and feel comfortable around each other, even when things are rough.

Honestly not a ton to say about this issue. It makes its point well, I like it.

In the letter pages: the return of Hair Discourse.

#21

This plotline's back!

He just like me fr (misreading signals on a date, resisting the urge to deck his high school classmates)

Seriously though, it's nice to get a look into Vic's very normal problems. Not everything wrong with him is related to being the Question.

This is one of my favourite single issues. I can't quite put words on why - everything about it just works, and there's nothing about it that I want to pick at.

#22

Election Day is the best arc in the run.

The opening spread is full of excellent expressions - Wesley's really lean into the more distorted and exaggerated end of Cowan's art, while Myra's are all subtle, exhausted frustration. I appreciate that she's consistently drawn with sunken cheeks and eye bags.

Maurice getting to be serious is a strong moment. He's been a good source of banter for Myra before this, so having him get invested and take the consequences seriously is a good way to ground the stakes, and to give Myra someone who's genuinely on her side without having to rely on Vic.

It's interesting that Shiva pays close enough attention to what Vic's up to on a regular basis that she'd know who to send. Even when she's not around, she still gets to drive the story.

#23

This issue got me the first time I read it. The history flashback is a weird choice, but it sets the tone perfectly, and the time constantly being shown is a throwback to the first issue that makes it feel super tense. So much of the series has long time skips, waiting to heal or get phone calls or for anything to happen, but now every minute counts. The news reports punctuating it work so well.

Vic dropping everything when he reads Tot's name is so...

Myra goes off, and she damn well deserves it. The difference in how her expressions feel between this and the opening of #22 is a testament to Cowan's work.

The quoting of a line from five pages ago is maybe a little unnecessary. These panels would stand perfectly well on their own.

#24

It's hard to make a deus ex machina feel "earned", but if anything does, it's this.

Kind of a dumb thing but who tells this story with a beaver? I'm not losing it, right, it's the Scorpion and the Frog?

The historical flashback turning out in Myra's favor is a fantastic bit of subversion. When I first read this, I was certain that Wesley was going to shoot Myra during the blackout, and Dinsmore dying and Myra talking about how bad winning felt made me lower my guard and think he might kill himself publicly instead. Funny how that works.

I didn't catch what he meant until the next issue on my first read (in my defence, I'm not American) but wow Wesley's not subtle about his assassination plans to anyone. I mean, I caught that much, but he's really not subtle.

Myra and Vic's relationship makes me want to explode. I just want them to be happy together! Aaaaa!

#25

Everything happens so much. The pace just does not let up.

Vic falls into bad habits, again, but he does a better job staying focused and not letting the anger take over - it's good development.

Wesley's death is everything the shitty racist cop issue fails to be. He's a sad, awful little man with a broken moral compass and a lot of enablers, and he dies refusing to recognize it.

The letters column: a woman wrote in a while back about how male comic fans are creeps and Vic still has some personal growth to do when it comes to being less sexist, and some men are being freaks about it. These fuckers haven't changed in thirty years.

#26

If I ignore the part of my brain that hates this as a Riddler story and pretend he's an OC, it's a fine breather issue. Unfortunately I am bad at doing that.

Some very caricature-y guest art this issue. It's a neat look in some panels, and sometimes it's more subtle, but a lot of it is scrungled enough that I can't take what's happening seriously.

this is Vic and Tot in the car, to me

Love that Tot takes stopping Vic from self-destructing into his own hands, and that Vic bitches but doesn't do anything stupid to try and stop him.

The idea of Vic chewing out the Riddler with more difficult questions is an interesting idea, but I don't love the effect of him monologuing about a bunch of pretty standard ~deep~ questions and well known koans, and the Riddler just going "yeah i'm afraid of those" is dumb.

I dunno - it feels like a bit of a waste for the one time Vic faces an established villain to be so meh. I like Sphinx, at least, and the reappearance of the drowning motif is cool.

#27

The weirdest issue, I think.

I really like all the Vic sections, and I'm not opposed to meta shit, but this is pretty jarring. Tot's weird cousin and his racist magic is not helping the tone of the Ditko callback.

I like that Tot has a weird cousin who was a bad comic artist. He has connections outside of Vic, they're just also weird as hell.

The Ditko callback is great. "You gotta pull me up." "Why?", and then the slow drop before Vic grabs him? Mwah. Perfect. I'm a sucker for this shit. Even when he's falling into bad habits, he's still a better person than he used to be!

#28

Shiva :)

Vic responding to Tot telling him not to lie to himself by suddenly gaining sunglasses kills the mood a bit, but it's also very good. What is wrong with him.

Myra wakes up from a coma, ditches the hospital, and immediately makes a very risky plan. Good for her.

Everyone's in top form this issue, it's great.

[natromanxoff]

(x)

PETE MEETS FREDDIE MERCURY

Freddie holds court!

WHEN I want round to see Freddie Mercury recently, two large and contented cats were occupying most of the couch in the lounge of his London flat. Freddie's obviously used to this, though, as he just smiled and squeezed into the tiny space his pets had left for him!

"They're called Tom and Jerry." he told me, "and they're both female. Maybe that's why they're so confused most of the time! It's nice having them around though — they're good companions for me.

"The only problem is that I don't like them to go out, because there's a very busy road right outside, but they don't mind staying in. Well, they look happy enough, don't they?

"Anyway, hopefully they’Il soon have a new home with a garden to run around in, as I'm looking for a place of my own. We're just starting to get some of the money through from our records now and the first thing I want is a home of my own. I've been in this flat for a couple of years now and I've been very happy here, but it would be nice to have bit more space!"

Does that mean he'll be moving right out of London into the country?

"Oh, no," he said, "that's not very likely. I like being in the heart of the city. The pace of life is very fast, but I like it that way. Naturally, I enjoy a break every now and then — I've got a sister in Nottingham whom I go to stay with for a few days.

"Life is a lot less frantic up there and I find it very relaxing — but only for a couple of days! After that I get restless and really look forward to getting back to London again."

It's just as well Freddie does have plenty of energy, because Queen are a very hard working band.

"We had a break during the summer when Brian May, our lead guitarist, was taken ill," Freddie explained. "But, since then, we've really been working hard. First we had to record our album, 'Sheer Heart Attack".

"That was a high-pressure job because Brian's illness put us behind schedule. We were working all sorts of hours and for a couple of weeks I hardly saw daylight! It was very tiring, but very satisfying too, because we were all really happy with the album when it was finished.”

Still, there was no time to sit back and feel proud of themselves, as immediately afterwards they had to prepare for their British tour, and their visits to Europe and the States.

"We don't mind touring at all," said Freddie. "In fact, it's great fun. If we are off the road for a long time we get restless and actually miss the travelling. Some groups say they find tours boring, but I think it's up to yourself to make the most of it.

"We really enjoyed America when we were over there earlier in the year. The people were very friendly and places like New Orleans and New York were fascinating. It was like carnival time every night in New Orleans! We spent a lot of time down in the French Quarter, where you could listen to live groups all night if you wanted. It seemed like the town never went to sleep!

“New York was a surprise — we’d had so many warnings about it being a terribly violent city that we were nervous wrecks by the time we arrived. All we wanted to do was head for the hotel room and lock ourselves in!

“But, in fact, we had a very peaceful time while we were there. Our rooms overlooked Central Park, so we were in a pleasant part of the city and met a lot of nice people.”

ALTHOUGH Freddie's musical talent has taken him right around the world, he didn't think of becoming a full-time musician until he left college.

"I was planning to become a freelance illustrator and I got my diploma in design," he told me. "I started doing freelance work, but my heart wasn't really in it. I realised music was the biggest thing in my life and decided to try and make my living from it. It’s as simple as that!

"I'd been interested in music since my schooldays, really — I went to a British Boarding School in India till I was 16. I enjoyed school — I was very keen on sport and drama, and had ample opportunity to go in for both of them! You didn't have any choice, there, mind you. You had to do what you were told, so the most sensible thing was to make the most of it!"

Didn't he rebel against all those rules and regulations?

“Obviously, at the time, I did,” he replied. "I didn't particularly like being told what to do all the time, naturally. But now, when I look back, I can see it did me a lot of good. I learnt to look after myself. I grew up very quickly, you see. My mother wasn't there to look after me, so I had to do it myself."

The polished accent is still there, but Freddie doesn't look much like a boarding school kid these days! He’s totally a rock singer now, and obviously enjoys the part!

“Oh, I love being in Queen,” he says. "I never think of music as work. In fact, there's nothing I'd rather do.”

And we’re glad about that, because there’s nothing we’d rather he did!

[rayofsunas]

s/o is half-human, half-cat.

A/n: back to requests for a bit and as of rn requests are closed! they'll be open again when I finish all of them, I currently have 20 to do. ALSO, sorry for this being really late to the anon who requested this, I've been procrastinating + busy. I also hope you don't mind that I did Childe's s/o male and added Scaramouche and Xiao (Fem and Gn respectively). I added a bit of everything so everyone can hopefully read it/feel included (if this doesn't make sense cause I'm dumb, check the pairings lol). I've never written anything like this so I'm so sorry if this makes zero sense ;-; anyways, have a great day everyone! <333

Summary: s/o is half-human, half-cat.

Parings: Childe/Male! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, nsfw (18+, implied, mating/heat)

Word count: 1.1k

Childe

mannnn, Childe has never seen a boy as attractive as you

EARS, TAIL AND ALL

omg, Childe thinks you're the cutest

like your soft kitty ears are just so cute

and he loves to tease you so he's going to pinch and pull at them a lot

if you're frustrating him and he isn't challenging you to fight (lmao he would) he's going to tug on your ears, because he knows it bothers you, especially if he's doing it roughly

your tail though is a different story

he's so fascinated with all of your cat-like features, but one thing he loves is your tail

it's not too fluffy, but it's fluffy enough that it's still adorable

you have a long tail too, and you wrap it around his

and like a male cat, you're going to mark EVERYTHING

you're still human, yes, but you still have cat-like features and habits

so sometimes, he finds that you'll come up to him and mark him

male cats pee to mark their territory, but you don't do that since you are still human (that's gross ngl), you'll just constantly rub against him, especially up near his neck

your scent is much stronger than a female cats, so it's much more pungent

and guess what? Childe doesn't mind it, he likes the smell. plus, it keeps other hybrids away (not that there's a lot, but you know)

he would mark you too, in his own way

he's not half cat, so he doesn't really leave a scent on you unless it's some type of fragrance he uses

all in all though,

and he has a lot of questions for you too, like how did this happen? are/were your parent's cats too?

tbh, you're going to get a lot of stares, lets be real

and people think you're a freak but he's always there to keep you safe if needed

"Leave my boyfriend alone, asshole, unless you'll face my wrath!" says it teasingly and it comes off sweetly innocent, his usual teasing tone, but he means it deep down

Scaramouche

he thinks you're very weird at first, like wth

why do you have cat ears and is that a tail at your rear end he sees?!?!

he's never seen a girl like you EVER and he's seen so many strange, questionable things

he's never met Diona before, so he just thinks you're odd, but hybrids like yourself these days are more common than he thinks

he also doesn't understand how this was even possible?!?!

like how tf does one even become half-cat, half-human?

nonetheless, he still finds you attractive, like wOw you're hot af

you're still a cat tho, so like I said before you have cat-like traits and such

for example marking your territory and mating

you like to mark him (he says he doesn't like it, but he's a fucking liar and we know this)

when you mark your territory, you lick his face/neck and he genuinely hates this ngl

it's the one thing he can't stand

even during intimate moments

he's like "don't lick me you brat."

but it's only natural, you need to do it

when it comes to mating that's an entirely different story

you're still human, so if you were to fall pregnant, you wouldn't carry a huge litter of kittens like if you were reproducing with a male cat hybrid

so, you would probably only have one baby at a time (the most being two; twins) but the second one is unlikely

you kind of miss the whole multiple children and big litter thing :(

Scaramouche's glad though, because he doesn't like children one bit

he's glad and doesn't hide it, big-mouthed bitch-

also, you go into heat during random seasons which kinda SUCKS for him

like, you wanna pounce him a lot when that happens whew chill

his favorite feature of yours is your ears, never admits it, he's a secret lover but he knows that you like them scratched

If you leave me alone while I do my work, I'll consider scratching your ears, hmm? How does that sound?

you're pestering him, he'll use the "I'll scratch/won't scratch your ears" card, and you will act accordingly

and you know what?

you're his weirdo, but if anyone else calls you that, he's taking it as an insult and disposing killing them immediately

no one gets to call you weird, except him

he's a bully but I love him

Xiao

pretty boy is confused on how you became to be a cat-human mix, but he doesn't mind as much as you'd think

if you're afraid he'd be indifferent towards you, trust me he's not

sure he thinks you're peculiar, but you're unique as well, more unique than any other human he's come across

and it doesn't change his love for you

plus, he thinks you're so cute :)

your ears are an added bonus that contributes to the cuteness

so fluffy, and soft and AAJDDBEHI

he blushes every time he lays his eyes on you, 'cause you're just that cute

he's going to refer to you as his "cute little neko" omg so cuteeee

he doesn't understand your biological nature, but he'll definitely try too

like if you mate, or are in heat, etc. he's trying his best to grasp those concepts

he's already touch starved so good luck (he's trying for the one-hundredth time!)

but if you explain everything to him, he'll get the idea(s) quickly

and he's not going to judge you at all. I feel like this goes against his characteristics because let's be real, he's a small judgy bb boy adepti and I feel like he already has assumptions about people/motives so yeah ANYWAYS

if you love your tail played with he'll often play with your tail lol, there's not much to say or deny about this

he will do it if asked, he'll do it without being asked, he just likes playing with your tail

he's not going to openly admit how cute he thinks you are or be so open about it that everyone knows how he feels about you, but you know and that's fine. that's all that matters to you

he will not tolerate people making fun of you, not at all

"what does their appearance have to do with you, small fry?"

like don't try to make fun of his s/o, he's not having none of it

he'll protect you to the ends of time ALWAYS

3.15.21, rayofsunas