#and some of those designations are more wobbly than others

[thenickelportrust]

Can we romance any of the super heros? Like red light?

Yes! Some of the ROs have double identities, some of them are heroic, you don't know exactly which ones or who it is (yet) but you'll find out along the way!

[justxtalking]

Do u think maybe when killua was stalking gon it was because he was jealous of gon and not palm for going on a date with palm or just going on a date?like what proof do we have that he was jealous of palm other than him not liking palm?and when he asked gon if he had went on a date before gon said yes and killua had a rock drop on his face😭and he kinda envied him like hes so experianced,maybe he was jealous of gon not palm

Eh, the third magical option?

The thing is, Killua doesn't show any interest in dating. Not then, not before and not after. And, as you pointed out, he doesn't even like Palm. What we do know about Killua is that he wants to be with Gon forever.

Let me explain my thoughts a bit more, with all the proof.

Disclaimer: This is how I see it. Just my perspective on this topic. Literally, just my opinion.

Before talking about the date, I think it's necessary to talk about the scenes that came before. Everything it's clearer with context, and I think it's better if we don't see the date in isolation.

Killua's conflict in these scenes (and more) revolves around his love and care for Gon. Being more specific, his desire to stay with Gon. These scenes are written mostly focusing on Killua's perspective, too.

“Gon, you are light.”

The scene is really powerful and important for Killua as a character and in his relationship with Gon. Here, Togashi focuses mainly on Killua’s feelings towards Gon, as it is shown through the art and the inner-monologue. Before, Killua was feeling down thanks to what Knov, Netero and Morel said to him. Here are some examples of what they said:

It directly links to Killua’s weakness, which is presented later in this part of the arc.

However, Gon thanks him and makes him feel better. What I want to take from this scene is 1. Killua sees Gon as light.

Togashi literally portrays Gon as light by using the white space, lines that seem to come from Gon, and adding subtle white lines to Killua’s shocked expression. To Killua, he shines so bright he can’t keep on looking at him.

If you ask me, I don't think this is the first time Killua sees Gon like this. I think Gon was bright to him since almost the moment they first met, though I do think Killua's feelings grew more and more as the story continued. However, it is the first time we, the readers, are told by Killua about it. This is the first time Togashi shows Killua thinking in those terms about Gon.

And 2. He asks himself, “But… can I still stay by your side?” This is important because Killua, here, is already questioning himself if he, being the person he is, can stay with Gon.

2. Palm

When this scene ends, we meet Palm. What I want to take from these scenes is the following.

First, Palm is introduced as a highly disturbing character, and clearly not mentally well. Her design resembles a horror character (she looks like the girl of The Ring), her speech bubbles are wobbly as if she's trembling, and her behavior is truly unhinged in more ways than one.

It's also important to take into account that Togashi loves dark humor, and he makes a lot of jokes with Palm.

Second, neither Killua nor Biscuit know how to talk to her. They are deeply disturbed by her (and rightly so) and uncomfortable. The only one who can speak to her normally is Gon. Not because he is not disturbed or because he is totally oblivious, he was weirded out at first, but he has a clear goal (train and rescue Kite) and knows how to behave around her better than the other two.

Examples of Biscuit and Killua:

Gon is acting determined and positive, which leads to Palm liking him. Killua, in these cases, is disturbed by Palm and he notices Gon is able to deal with Palm, something Biscuit and him can't do.

Third, Palm is highly worried about Gon and Killua not being able to beat Knuckle and Shoot. She's presented like a threat to the trio, and she warns them more than once about it.

If Palm gets angry, they could be killed. That's why Biscuit ends up running away.

3) Killua's weakness

Here we, the readers, are informed for the first time of Killua's weakness in battle. If we pay attention to Killua's behavior in previous scenes, we would realize that this is something that he has been doing since the beginning.

What I want to take from this is the following:

This spell takes “an enormous effort to break.”

2. Killua gets scared and worried that, if he can't get over his weakness and beat Shoot, he will have to “stay out of Gon's life” because one day he could “let Gon down and leave him to die.” Killua does not want to leave Gon and does not want Gon to suffer because of him. This is linked with the first point I explained, and Killua questioning himself about being able to stay with Gon.

What Biscuit said to him served as a wake-up call for him to try and change.

However, despite his best efforts, he still lost against Shoot. Killua feels awful about that because it means he will have to leave Gon. He made up his mind that it was for the best, but since Gon is nenless, Killua feels like he can't leave him alone just yet. He needs to protect him.

4) The date!

First, when Gon and Killua arrive, Palm is destroying dolls of Gon with a knife, and wanting revenge because Gon and Killua failed despite Gon's promise. Both react shocked, but Gon is the one who tries to make it up to her, since he was the one who made the promise and failed.

Here, Killua is clearly unhappy about the situation. He gets angry and disturbed. He understands the concept of dating and he doesn't like that Gon will have a date with Palm. He tries to object and complains to Gon and to Palm, going back and forth. He doesn't want Gon to go out with Palm, not because he wants to go on a date instead of Gon but because Gon will go out with Palm. I don't think Killua would have cared this much if another person instead of Gon would have gone out with Palm.

It's one of the cases where we could say Killua was jealous, as he is taking an active role to avoid this date from happening.

Second, the gym scene. As I mentioned before, Killua was already thinking about Gon being able to deal with Palm, so here he asks him about dating (since he made the connection between the two.)

When Gon answers that he did, as you mentioned, Togashi draws a rock drop, a device to show that Killua was extremely shocked by Gon's answer (and also for comedic effect.) Killua relaxes a bit when Gon says it was mostly with Mito, but he again reacts shocked when he hears there were others.

The fact that Killua thinks Gon “is so experienced” together with Gon saying that “They call those types cougars” while looking so innocent is a joke of dark humor. We don't know the true nature of these dates, to be honest, but it's what gave Gon the experience to know how to behave around Palm so she doesn’t hurt them.

Killua here does not act like he envies Gon, he's more shocked than anything (and a bit disturbed.) What's interesting in this scene is when Gon asks Killua back about dating, Killua answers a bit nervously and completes his sentence in his mind: “And I thought we would stay together.”

If you ask me if he's okay with Gon dating other people, I would say he isn't because of these reactions.

Killua is not interested in dating someone else, he just wants to stay with Gon. What comes to his mind at that moment is what Biscuit said to him (what I explained in point 3, Killua's weakness.) He truly doesn't want to leave Gon, but he thinks it's for the best.

And I may have no proof, but it looks as if he shed a tear or two and he wiped his face fast. Togashi did hide Killua's face when Killua was about to cry.

Third, the date. Before delving into how Togashi wrote it, we need to take into account that this date is a romance trope often found in shoujo. There is a lot to say about the shoujo elements Togashi includes in his stories, but I'll focus only on this one.

This trope is still pretty popular, but it was easily found in romance during the 2000s, especially in school romance. I believe the Hunter X Hunter chapters of this scene came out around the early 2000s (at least that's what my own volume says), so it makes sense that Togashi wanted to include something of the sort in his work.

The trope has different forms, however, Togashi follows the most traditional one. It is usually used to add drama and tension to the love story. Literally, to stir up some drama. The third person is shown as a possible threat to the main couple (typical love triangle) and helps the couple and the characters to grow in some way.

In relation to the scene, it consists of the main character going on a date or simply going out with a third person outside of the relationship (sometimes it can be the second male/female lead or someone else) while the main love interest follows them making excuses as to why but worried about them being together.

Togashi follows the same format in this scene, with his own goals. It's one of the reasons why I think the reader would think Killua is jealous, since he's acting like the love interest in hiding.

Generally, the character wears a hat, glasses, or both to go undercover. Killua wears a hat.

The love interest in hiding makes excuses as to why he's following them. During the date, Killua follows Gon and Palm (and lies about his whereabouts to Gon), and he keeps on saying he’s following them because “he needs to protect Gon,” which could sound like an excuse to justify himself. He even feels self-conscious about what he's doing, but says to himself that he's doing this to protect Gon.

It adds to the fact that from the beginning, as I've explained before, Killua feels like he needs to protect Gon. Killua, despite losing against Shoot, stayed with Gon because he would be vulnerable against the enemies and Palm. He thinks more than once that he needs to protect Gon.

3. Killua gets annoyed by Palm's new appearance, which is another reaction that the love interest in hiding usually has. In my opinion, Killua was shocked by it and he was also mad because now she looked more like a possible love interest to Gon.

Also, another thing about the trope, Gon takes Palm out for a date so he can make it up for failing her. He takes her to several places that are used for dates in shoujo (the aquarium, for example). I think it's interesting to know that, too.

During the date, I'll admit that Killua's reactions smell a bit like jealousy of Palm (at least to me). He also continues being disturbed. But I repeat, he doesn't show interest in dating. The thing is, the focus is in his worry for Gon's safety and his deepest desire, which is to stay with Gon.

To end this section, it is also interesting to mention that when the date ends, Gon rejects Palm at the same time Killua leaves to find the chimera ant. The main character (in this case Gon) rejects the second love interest (in this case Palm) since he's not interested in them.

5) The conclusion!

I know you only mentioned the date, but I think it's important to talk about how all of this ends, since it has to do with Killua's turmoil I mentioned at the beginning and Killua's stand on Palm and Gon.

Killua fights the chimera ant and finally takes Illumi's needle out of his head. This scene must be one of the most powerful scenes of Killua. After failing in his fight against Shoot, he is now fighting against a dangerous enemy, who does want to kill him and Gon. (I hate that ant.)

Killua makes a tremendous effort and is able to take the needle out because of his own strength and desire to not lose Gon. What gave him so much strength is his love for Gon. He literally frees himself.

When he returns, he's a lot firmer with Palm. He does look a lot freer than before, too. Killua doesn't have to leave Gon anymore.

I would like to highlight some dialogues in this scene. It continues to resemble a love triangle between the three of them (Gon, the main character, Killua, the main love interest, and Palm, the third character who comes to make drama), among other things.

Before, Palm already said to Killua, “Stop interfering, it's between him and me.” Killua complained but it didn't get him anywhere.

Now, Palm repeats to Killua, “Stay out of it. It's none of your business,” which in turn Killua answers, “You stay out of it. In fact, just go away.” At this moment, this Killua is able to stand up for himself a lot better than before. He's clearly showing his discontentment for Palm and her dating Gon.

Something interesting about this is that Palm notices Killua's cuts from the fight at that moment, too. Killua is also able to dodge Palm's attack with no effort and to run away with Gon.

Palm gets extremely angry because Killua is interfering in her relationship with Gon. She literally wants to find him and kill him.

She doesn't because Knov appears, lol.

Togashi finishes this whole Palm's adventure with Gon and Killua thinking how Gon can get free from Palm. Just like Killua was not interested in dating Palm, Gon wasn't either. He was just forced.

So yeah! This is how I see it. I'm sorry I can't give you a more confident answer. You're free to make your own conclusions.

I think Killua's annoyance can be easily interpreted as jealousy of Palm (the romance trope doesn't help his case lol). And I think it's safe to assume that part of the reason why Killua doesn't like Palm is because she likes Gon.

However, at that moment, I don't think Killua has still reached the point of wanting to date Gon (maybe he surprises me in the future), or anyone for that matter. Though I do think if Gon asks him to date for real, he wouldn't say no.

Killua does show genuine concern for Gon and a deep desire to stay with him. And it's obvious that he loves him a whole lot. If you ask me if that love is romantic or not, I would say that yes, but it's a lot deeper than that.

I think it's highly interesting that Togashi wrote such important scenes for Killua with Palm in mind. I can't get over the fact that he literally used a romance trope to make Killua grow. Food for thought, to be honest.

I hope I answered your question and that I'm not too late, omg. I had a good time writing this, so thank you. I got really excited when I saw your question because I love speaking about this. However, I hope I was coherent enough. For you and anyone who is reading this.

[neurodivenport]

SIR! SIR! imma need you to be writing more nsfw chase fics! i have no shame. i need more. im on my hands and knees. credit card out and ready. i will even give you scenarios if you need some. im begging, crying, screaming, wailing, salivating, barking, meowing, purring, wobbling, and all the other i-n-g-s. you're the only one that gets into it. 😩

i literally love u… here’s something thats been floating in my brain for a hot minute (that i never wrote because of lack of motiv+ive been sick ugh)

but PLEASE send me scenarios if you have any! i ALWAYS wanna write stuff for him but its just about if i have actual ideas or not

its literally nothing but porn without plot under the cut you’ve been warned (chase davenport x gn!reader)

Chase had finally come up with a way to recharge without his capsule.

He spared you the nitty gritty of it, only telling you he had changed the way his entire room worked in order for him to sleep in your (now) shared bed. You told him he didn’t have to go through all that just because you wanted to sleep next to him- but he insisted that he was just as desperate to hold you, too.

The thought of that made you feel warm.

You watch as he turns off the light, cuddled up in his own set of pajamas, which you note have a little Davenport Industries logo on the side. He squeezes in next to you, lifting the covers above his body.

“I never knew how you slept without a blanket,” You note, “It’s so cold in your room… and you were just in a glass capsule.”

“Highly flexible industry grade polymer,” Chase corrects, with the ‘I’m a genius’ smile plastered on his cute face, “And these pajamas are designed to be warmer than blankets, with adjustable settings to regulate it to human body temperatures. You can also just turn those features off completely.”

You gape at him, eyebrows furrowed tight, watching as he giggles at your expression. “God, you Davenports are so strange.”

He just hums in response, a big, dumb grin lighting up his face.

You settle in, turning around to your side. When you feel him hesitating, you grasp his hand in yours, pulling his arm to slot over your side. He pulls you in tight, spooning your form against his. You feel his face bury itself into your neck, humming, nustling itself into your skin.

“‘S really nice,” Chase says after a few beats- voice muffled with his face in your neck.

You laugh a little, squeezing his hand. “It is for me too.”

You feel him push his body closer to yours, like he’s trying to get as close as he can. His hands bunch up at your pajama shirt, legs intertwining with yours, trying to pull you closer to him.

“Mm, Chase,” You hum, “You okay?”

“Mmhm,” He says, “I just- I want to be close to you.”

“I don’t think you can get any closer than this.” You giggle.

Chase hums in response. You know how clingy he can be, how touch starved he is, constantly clinging to you like a koala or a sloth to a tree. You bet he’d hold you for the rest of his life if he could- not getting up to a single other thing.

You feel his thumb barely touching the light hint of your skin that peeks out from your scrunched shirt, feather light and shaky. He’s praying you don’t notice him taking in your smell.

You slide your leg between his, intertwining your limbs to bring him ever tighter, pulling him forward with your tangled hands. You hear him grunt as he slots against your back, before stilling behind you, lifting his head off from your neck.

“Sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about… until you feel it.

Oh.

Oh.

“Chase,” You breathe out a laugh, “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.”

“It just- it just happens.”

You can feel him trying to hover his crotch away from your ass, trying not to press his obvious hard-on against you. You two have had sex before- but since it’s still early in that stage of your relationship, his nerves are still never ending, never wanting to overstep a boundary.

You grab onto his hip, pulling him towards you to press just as tightly as he was before. He grunts at the contact, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You don’t have to,” Chase says, ever the gentleman, voice laced with tensity.

“Chasey,” You breathe, knowing full well what any pet name does to him, “I like making you feel good.”

He lets out a long trembling breath at that. He stays silent for a minute, clearly contemplating something, the cogs in his brain practically audible.

“Can I, uh,” Chase stutters, fidgeting with your shirt. “Can I just… do this…?”

You feel him grind against your ass experimentally. That makes you moan, shifting it back against him, reveling in the soft, barely noticeable noise he makes.

“Go ahead, baby,” You encourage. “Get yourself off for me.”

That makes him whine, burying his face back into your neck. He can never get used to your vulgarity.

Chase’s hips start moving, softly humping against you. You hold his hips in aid, guiding him with more determined strokes.

“That feel good?” You ask. He moans softly, nodding his head.

His movements get faster as he adds more pressure, his hand gliding up your stomach. Sensing his hestiance, you grab his hand and place it on your chest, feeling him pinch a nipple from over your shirt.

“I’m-“ He starts, cutting himself off with a groan, “I’m close- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, you’re doing such a good job for me. You deserve it. Let yourself go.”

Chase’s whines amp up in volume, getting more and more frequent while his thrusts lose their rhythm. He’s trying to muffle his sounds into your skin, embarrassed by how much he’s enjoying this.

With a final groan, he stills, legs twitching as you feel his pants dampen.

He’s panting as he comes down, barely moving. You reach back to pet his hair, turning and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “Was that good?”

He hums in response, still high pitched and breathy. That makes you giggle, squeezing his cheek.

As you begin to push yourself up off the bed, you feel him grab you.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m just gonna get you a washcloth and new pajamas, don’t worry.”

Chase’s eyes are big and dreamy as he speaks. “I want- I want to return the favor.”

You smile, heart warming - knowing full well its not out of obligation but out of his own want.

“Can you do that in the shower?”

You’ve never seen him get up so fast.

[thyandrawrites]

On "dream doping", or the lesson to be learned from despair

Alteratively titled: why breaking up with your high school sweetheart is vital for a career in soccer (with or without said sweetheart. Signed: Ego Jinpachi)

buckle up, this is a long one

We know that Reo went into this match with several hungups as to why Nagi would leave him behind, even going as far as asking Chigiri and Kunigami why they'd pick him

And his voice shaking (notice the wobbly speech bubble) as he repeats the validation, like he doesn't quite believe it to be true anymore. And then during the match he kept alternating between talking himself up and trash talking Isagi with increasingly frantic urgency. He needed to test his worth against Isagi and come out victorious to prove that he was worthy of being the genius' partner, yes, but one important factor is that he did all of this specifically seeking Nagi's approval. He needed to hear it from him, because it's Nagi's departure that crushes Reo's confidence in the first place. Before that moment, Reo was self-assured and cocky, even looking down on other players he felt were beneath him. But we could argue that confidence was born from a shaky foundation—the idea of staying a team with Nagi until the world cup and their eventual victory together for Japan.

I think a factor that doesn't often get brought up in Reo commentaries is that Reo derives a lot of his winning self-image from tag-teaming with a genius

And it's from "borrowing" his talent that Reo feels he lifts their collective value to genius level

And in the process, Reo also tends to undersell his own skills by comparison, and letting them stay an accessory to Nagi's brilliance,

despite how it's been remarked that Reo's a bit of a genius in his own light. If he honed that potential, he could be a big threat, too. Alone.

This is by design, of course. He foils pre blue lock Rin for this reason, too. Reo and young Rin are similar in that they both consider their soccer partner the true star of the show, subordinating their own skills as just a fancy accessory to make their partners shine and become world's best with them right at their heels.

The unfortunate consequence of this is that they end up internalizing that their dream is not achievable without their partner(s), because they ingrained being a sidekick so deep into that plan that they simply see themselves unwilling or unable to chase it on their own.

Hence why, for the continuation of their dream, it becomes vital to have their partner's approval. They just don't see the point in going on alone. Losing the partnership means losing the reason to play altogether.

Now, of course this mindset is incompatible with blue lock. Nothing really new there. Reo was always framed as the delusional oddball for signing up for the program with the intended goal of using it to make Nagi the best, rather than himself. In other words, for trying to bend the system into accommodating his dream rather than accepting Ego's philosphy and playing by Ego's rules. And of course, that plan was bound to be put to the test when Reo&Nagi got the first taste of "despair".

The series posits that despair is the feeling you get when your dream doesn't measure up to reality and threatens to crash and burn. Ego posits that there's only one way out of it that doesn't involve self-destruction. And that's avoiding the trap of the so-called "dream doping".

But what does "engraving despair" even mean in simple terms? I think Ego's point is that after experiencing a crushing, frustrating defeat, some players (the normies, or those who don't go very far) simply think "next time we'll win" without putting any active energy into changing their playstyle and rebuilding it anew to face the growing challenges and "devour" them along the way.

Think of Barou, and how he managed to come back after Isagi and Nagi made him effectively useless in the field. What Barou did was evolving into someone even more chaotic and unpredictable, and devouring them right back. Barou himself cites the despair he felt during that match as the catalyst of his growth and winning goal. In other words, instead of dream doping, Barou adapted and survived in a battlefield that would've otherwise left him in the dust.

But not every player has the presence of mind to pick themselves back up as the match is still unfolding, and when the defeats rolls around, they fold under the weight of that despair. We see this in action. When Sae evolves so rapidly in Spain and eats Rin for breakfast during their 1v1, Rin's reaction to despair is dream doping (at least at first). So is Reo's when he loses to team white. Faced with opponents that had an explosive soccer growth, they struggle to keep pace, and then refuse to face reality and admit they also need to change their playstyle to keep staying in the game.

In Reo's case, he even goes as far as saying he doesn't have "the courage to let himself be destroyed and reborn." And that defeatist attitude is what leads team white to choose Chigiri instead. A real egoist doesn't think "I cannot do it" but instead keeps fighting tooth and nail until the end.

But Reo isn't there yet. If you analyse his body language at the end of the match, it's clear he expects a rejection before it even comes. Notice his posture

Having just had a taste of the limits of his skills against strong opponents, his reaction is resigned. His stance is defensive and closed off. His arms and legs are crossed, he's the only one on the ground, his head is hung in defeat and avoiding Nagi's eyes. Even the camera angle looks at him from above, like he's already doomed himself by deciding to stay on the ground, not picking himself up. Remember, it's Kunigami who lifts him from his collar. Reo doesn't have that strength alone.

This transition here also shows it well imo. True to fashion, he only shows a reaction when Nagi's directly addressing him. A part of him is still wishing for things between them to mend, to go back to how they were. There's hope written all over his face in that second panel, but the moment he hears what Nagi has to say, it abruptly morphs into pain.

Nagi echoes the words Reo wanted to tell him when they split, but to Reo it doesn't come across as the approval he was seeking. Rather, as the opposite: while Reo couldn't bring himself to encourage Nagi to go ahead in fear that Nagi wouldn't look back (that is, in fear Nagi wasn't as attached to him and their dream as Reo was)... Nagi says them easily enough. And to Reo, that's more crushing than the loss itself because he misconstructs it as indifference towards their promise.

It all circles back to Reo's insecurity. While Nagi just showed him he's able to change even without Reo as his partner, Reo is insecure about being able to do the same because he sees them as his biggest weapon, not anything inherent to Reo alone. Thus, once Nagi mines the foundation of Reo's confidence (their team up), any step Nagi takes in an effort to get them closer to the world cup in Reo's eyes is just another step away from it (and from him). Reo always assumed they'd crossed that finish line together, that he'd build Nagi up into the world's best striker. He wasn't prepared for a path where Nagi teams up with other people, leaving Reo powerless in the sidelines—their combo (and thus himself) a weapon that outlived its usefulness.

Much like Rin declaring that he'd lose his reason to play soccer if he can't chase his dream with Sae the way they had agreed to, Reo metaphorically sees his future as the "abnormal monster duo" crumbling away (notice the decaying effect on the square with his internal narration). Instead of taking steps towards ensuring their dream still has a chance of happening in the future, he sees it as already doomed.

The thing is, Reo isn't ready to give up on it, though. He doesn't want to. I could be wrong about this but him seeking out a clean cut from Nagi came across to me less as if he was blaming Nagi for leaving, and more like he seeked a fight as self-punishment for his thoughts during the match. In the previous chapter, he tried stifling Nagi's potential and then resented himself for it. Now, his internal narration is almost goading Nagi's anger. I think it's still up in the air whether he was lashing out because he was overwhelmed by his conflicting feelings or if he was seeking out Nagi's rejection because he hated himself for not measuring up to his own standards during the match. Maybe a bit of both.

Point is, Reo is refusing to face reality. By saying "then pick me", to cite Ego, he's denying that he was powerless in the match, and putting the entire brunt of his loss onto Nagi's shoulders for not choosing him. Simply put, he's relying on Nagi to open up the door to go further in blue lock instead of growing into the player that gets to choose who to pick.

And Nagi recognizes this and feels hurt by it, cause if Reo refuses to evolve, switch up tactics and try new things, he's also implicitly refusing to go further in the program. From Nagi's perspective, it's Reo that's breaking their promise by being unwilling to put in the effort to keep staying in the game. Remember, the consequence for failing blue lock is no longer being allowed to play professionally for Japan. If Reo quit putting up a fight, his dream would be over for good.

And the story tells us, the measure of a great striker is how they react to the challenges thrown in their path. Nagi's growth happens specifically because he doesn't tie his success to Reo, but knows when to throw in other variables and when cooperating with Reo makes them stronger. In Nagi's eyes, their dream is not reliant on their combo, but their combo is a weapon that makes their dream achievable. Whereas Reo based his plan to get the world cup around his partnership with Nagi, and let his own skills lay dormant and underdeveloped cause he always defaulted to passing to Nagi to score.

But when Nagi leaves the equation for good, Reo's forced to address where his own strengths really lie and how to weaponize them to avoid elimination. That's why the chameleon awakens for the first time. It gets roused by Reo's despair, which gets "engraved" only when it dawns on Reo that their combo is not an option anymore, and it's on Reo and Reo alone to fight his way back up, evolving and devouring rivals along the way. And much like Nagi's talent for trapping, Reo's stregth was also inherent, and never just reliant on them being a team.

[pleaseitsjustrae0nly]

Tattoo artist! Toumura Shigaraki! At 11:33pm

Afab!Reader x Tomura Shigaraki

Smut! Read at your own risk <3

I'm sorry but this man gives me🦋🦋🦋🦋

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Okay so, small detail. I feel like instead of wearing those full-cover gloves, he'd wear gloves that were fingerless (if they are allowed).

You just wanted a cute tattoo, you didn't think you'd get... a sneaky link as well.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

You walked in the renovated-bar, where the tattoo store was located and BOY. You did not expect your artist to be this hot, his voice was so intoxicating and his hair... god his hair looked so gorgeous. And with your incredible luck, the receptionist gave HIM to you for your appointment!

Apparently his name was Shigaraki, he was explaining the procedures of getting a tattoo, but you just focused on his hands. He had fingerless gloves, some fingers were still covered but still, they were long and...

"Alright, where do you want your tattoo?"

"Oh! Uhm, on (prefered location) please."

"Since you asked nicely, sure."

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

My goodness, if you could die right there, you would. His hands held onto your skin as he used the tool to press the ink into your skin. You chose a (insert design), and according to his words 'be sure to not regret it.' Oh you would never, heck you might just get more tattoos' just to see him again.

His shoulders, his neck, you found the perfect piece of eye candy for you. When the ink stopped, you snapped back into reality to see him talk (more like shout) with the receptionist saying that they'll be awhile. But didn't he say it would only take only 2 hours? Sure the awhile could mean that but-

"I know your checking me out."

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

You always took notice of his slender, long fingers. But feeling them INSIDE YOU? You were gone, all you could think about was the hot tattoo artist fingering you on the seat.

"Shh... be quiet. Not unless you want them to hear?"

"ugh... please~"

"Shut it slut. Be quiet and I'll give you something more than my fingers."

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

You ended up getting his number, he didn't give you the 'more' but he said after his shift. So you left with a tattoo, and a new found lover? It took him about 3 more hours until his shift ended, and he was now heading towards your home.

You thought about preparing a meal, but when you went to answer the door whilst cooking, he just pounced onto you and started kissing your neck and nipping at your delectable skin. Small moans slipped as you both made your way to the kitchen... the meal, forgotten.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

After that night, he became not only your sneaky link but also a close friend. He'd come running if you asked him to rail, fuck, finger, and etc.

When he's eating you out, his focus was solely focused on your taste and where he sucked. (his focus is strong since he has to avoid mistakes on a client's skin)

When he's fucking you? Oh he'd degrade you, hard. He'd have one hand on your throat and the other holding one of your legs up, as he spits insults and small praises from time to time.

Your ability to walk? HA, you lost that the day he fingered you. You were practically wobbling out of the tattoo store, no weird looks, but yeah.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Hope you enjoyed! Have a good day/afternoon/night. &lt;3

[five-rivers]

Continued from here.

.

His parents deserved to have an explanation for what was going on, even if Danny really, really didn’t want to explain.  Finger spelling was tedious, and even apart from that, his explanation was… stupid.  Coming back had been a very stupid thing to do.  Especially on the basis of a prophecy written on a random wall.  

He breathed and knelt so that his wings weren’t in such an uncomfortable position.  Then, painstakingly, haltingly, spelled out each word of his reasoning, finishing up with a question about whether or not they could flash the recording light on one of the cameras, or even turn a whole camera on and off, for morse code.  

The camera lights stayed steady.  The cameras stayed on.  

Danny sighed.  He wasn’t surprised, doing something like that between universes…  They might not be able to turn parts of it off and back on.  Without it being on, they might not be able to give it instructions.  Some versions of this camera setup, he knew, only went into standby mode instead of turning off entirely, and with those it’d probably work, but they were always changing things.  He didn’t always keep up.

He waited a few more minutes.  When nothing happened, he stood up and started taking off the cameras.  They were great, and designed to work well in the Ghost Zone, but they were still electronics and most of them weren’t waterproofed.  

Some parts of the harness came off easily.  Others were a bit more difficult, on account of the wings.  He left them stacked as neatly as possible on the little island.  

Then, he took one last breath, as unnecessary as it was, and dove down, wings pressed tightly against his back.  His fur and feathers behaved surprisingly well in the water, going slick against his skin.  His ears were more finicky.  They didn’t want to fold completely, and the water kept trying to get them to balloon outward, like parachutes, if he swam too fast.

The lights beneath the water wavered and wobbled in his vision as he disturbed the water.  They were bright and beautiful, luminous and numinous in the dark.  His current, and hopefully temporary, desire for light urged him towards them, but they reminded him of stars so greatly, that he thought they would draw him in regardless.  

Then, ever so faintly, he began to hear things.  Distant, blurred voices, like people speaking far away.  The more distant stars, the ones that must be set nearer the shores of the lake, rose up around him.  

There were snatches of words in the distant murmuring.  Some, Danny could almost recognize.  They grew louder, clearer.  Dozens of languages, dozens of different voices, male, female, young, old…

He reached the bottom of the lake, hands pressing on stone against either side of the glowing light.  It was inset in a depression, and it spoke, cadence rising and falling.  The language wasn’t one Danny knew well, but he knew it was old.  Very old.  The words–  They were a story.  

Danny couldn’t follow the story well, but he thought… he though he understood.  Not the story, but what was here.  Why it was here.  

The Library of the Lost preserved lost books.  But that wasn’t all it preserved.  Danny knew there were scrolls, clay and stone tablets, steles, and far more things than just paper.  Physical, tangible things.  

But the oldest way to preserve information wasn’t writing.  It was by sharing it, speaking it.  

Oral histories.  

But oral histories needed voices to speak them.  This, this lake, these lights, the quiet ones, it was the Library’s attempt to retrieve lost oral histories.  

He had to wonder how it prioritized them…  How did it decide which ones to give voice to, which ones to ignore…  The number of lost stories never put to paper had to be literally uncountable, with more made every day.  The number of voices stolen could never equal the number of stories.  Maybe the voices alternated stories, going through a set list…

These must be the words he was supposed to free.  But how was he supposed to do that?  He tapped the light.  The voice wavered slightly, but the light remained firmly in place.  He tried to pry it up, even pulling at it with his telekinesis, but it was staying put.  

Maybe…  His voice was here, too.  A light had flown past his lips.  Maybe he could find it, and… something.  He’d work it out.  Probably.  

Unless this was one of those things that only the proper, prophesied chosen one could do.  That would be annoying.  And potentially disastrous.  

He pushed off the ground and swam slowly to one side, his ears unfurling.  He wanted to hear… he needed to hear…  Where was it…?

He’d gone more than halfway around the lake when he heard it.  He adjusted course at once.  And… there it was.  His voice.  His.  It spoke of the history of a city Danny had never heard of in ancient Greek.

And it was just as stubbornly stuck as the other voice he’d checked.  

Except…  He lowered his lips to the light, kissing it, tasting it.  There was a twinge in his throat, and the light in the water around him dimmed.  

He hummed, then laughed.  He had his voice back. 

But how to get the others…?

The lights around him were rising up.  Danny swam to the surface just as the lights breached the surface, rising to the vertical shaft in a swirl.  They looked like fireflies.  A whole swarm of them. 

[papersnakepress]

I had a message the other day asking (among other things) what kind of tools and equipment I use in making books, and as it's something I like to go into detail on, I realized I couldn't fit everything I had to say in a message so it's getting its own post. With photos!

Disclaimer that I'm not a professional bookbinder, I'm entirely self-taught and probably have habits and practices that would drive a pro nuts. I'm no authority, but these are the things that have worked for me, and maybe you can adapt them to work for you too.

This post will not cover: storage options, materials like board and glue, or equipment specific to one narrower aspect of the hobby like embossing or gilding. It is also not a tutorial on how to make a book, though I am covering things in more-or-less the order I use them in during the book-making process.

This post will cover: What I've found useful, what I've regretted buying, and some things you can co-opt from other, more common hobbies. A lot of it you may already have in your house. Some of it is for beginners, some is nicer equipment you might want as you get further into making books. They are not separated, it's just a list and some description.

Keep reading below the cut; this is gonna be a very long one and there are a lot of photos of everything.

If you want to make books you will need access to a printer. I'm not going to go into detail on this part and I didn't take a photo of my HP (not the best brand, but that's a long discussion in and of itself). Once you've got your pages printed and it's time to fold it into signatures, it helps to have a folding tool like these:

Folding tools can be anything as long as they're smooth and flat. The one on the left here is an actual bone folder from an art supply shop, but the center one is a plastic leatherworking tool that I got at Hobby Lobby, and the one on the right is an agate burnisher that I got from Amazon. None of these cost more than $10, and you can also use the edge of a pen (as long as it has no rubber grip or cap/clip) or the back of a spoon. Or your fingers, but the tools make it faster and the folds are more precise. I once worked a job where I had to fold maps, and all my coworkers were wondering how I did them so much faster and why mine were flatter than everyone else's, and it was because I'd grabbed a sharpie and started using the back end like a bone folder.

Once it's folded, you'll need to poke holes for sewing. I use one of these:

Left is, again, an actual bookbinding awl from an art supply store, while the center one is a paper quilling tool and the right one is a beadwork awl, both of which came from a big chain craft store. The bead one is my favorite; it's a good size and very stable. The quilling thing has too long and thin of a blade and it's wobbly, and I don't like the tapering on the bookbinding awl. It tends to make the holes in the middle page too big, and the outer ones too small. Again, these were cheap, about $10 each, but you can also use a sewing needle stuck in a cork, or a thumbtack or pushpin. If it's pointy and rigid, it'll work.

This isn't a requirement by any means, but I've found I like having a punching cradle for the hole-poking step. I got this 3d printed one from a fellow bookbinder, who was designing their own and made this one as a prototype. There are a lot of tutorials on how to make a punching cradle, or you can buy them online from several different vendors. They don's all look like this, and you can make them from wood or cardboard (though those don't usually have guide holes). If you're just starting out or this doesn't appeal, you can just use a paper template like the one on the far right. The cradle helps get the holes lined up and evenly spaced, and I've never liked this step so anything that makes it faster and less fussy is a win. If you use this kind, check that your hole-poking tool fits in the guide holes--the binding awl pictured above doesn't, but the other two do.

We've made holes, so let's stitch them up. These are just regular sewing needles and beeswax, to make your thread less prone to tangling. You can get both of them in any store that has a sewing department. There are dedicated bookbinding needles, like curved needles, and some binders like them, but I've never gotten the hang of the curved ones and they aren't necessary, especially when you're just starting out. If it fits through the holes you made, it will work.

Once it's sewn, you probably want to squish your new text block so it's flat. I've got a laying press that I bought a couple of years ago when I was first getting started. It was marketed as a book and flower press, and it's honestly not the best. I would probably not have bought it if I had known that it wasn't essential to the process, and I mainly use it now when I'm squishing a text block and still want to use my work space, because once it's tight I can move it somewhere else. You can really use almost anything for squishing as long as it's heavy and flat and rigid on one side, like the stack of books in the right-hand photo. Textbooks, encyclopedias, art and photo books, and comic book omnibuses are all great. I've seen people use all kinds of things, like paper-wrapped bricks and doorstops, and there are tutorials out there to make your own press out of cutting boards if you do want one.

If you like your books to have smooth, flat page edges you're going to have to trim them. This is a book plow from Affordable Binding Equipment, and it was the first piece of actual expensive equipment that I bought. Not all plows look like this; I think the design is unique to ABE, but I've never used the traditional kind. In the interest of full disclosure, you can also trim edges with a sharpened chisel, which is much cheaper and can be bought at any hardware store, and some binders love this method. I do not love this method and have had zero regrets about caving and getting the plow. Very easy to use but does require some grip strength. Not pictured: the setup for sharpening the blade, which isn't hard but requires a bit of space and a small sheet of plate glass that you have to source yourself. Even with that, I still prefer it to the chisel. That said, this is not an essential step and you can leave your books with a "sawtooth" or deckled edge. Most of my early books have them, and some people just like them better than the flat ones and never learn to trim them. As another side note, some tutorials will say that you can trim your edges flat with a knife. You can't. Maybe on a pamphlet you can, but if it's more than 10 or 20 pages you just can't. It will look terrible.

If you're going to use a plow, you've got to have the right kind of press. The one I talked about further up the thread is the wrong kind (full disclosure: I did use it with that press turned on its side, before I bought this one. But it's harder, more time-consuming, less comfortable, and less safe. Don't be like me). So here's a photo of my finishing press (also from Affordable Binding Equipment). I bought it so I could make backed books, but I use it for trimming too. The top part here has a narrow tapered section for backing, but if you flip it over it's totally flat, which is what you need for trimming. Not pictured: the stand that it came with for backing, or the c-clamps that I use to attach it to the desk for trimming. Again, though--this isn't a requirement for bookbinding. This is a later stage that's entirely optional. On the subject of backing, though:

You don't need special equipment to round the spines of your books, but you do for backing. Left image is the set of backing boards I got from, once again, Affordable Binding Equipment, and on the right is a backing hammer from Hollander's. Neither of these are essential. Even if you get the boards (which have to be used in a press with a tapered edge, like the one directly above) you can actually use a regular hammer as long as the front part has no scratches or gouges. This one is a backing hammer, the primary difference being that it has a wider, convex head than a regular household hammer, to make the kind of glancing blows needed for backing a little easier. Honestly, I'm still learning how to use these and I'm not very good with them yet. Comes of being self-taught, probably. I don't think youtube is the best vehicle for learning this part, but it's what I have and I'm making do. Not every book is going to benefit from backing, either; it's primarily for helping mitigate spine swell.

Okay, time for my favorite repurposed equipment hack.

It's bookends. Regular bookends that I've had for ages and that probably came from Ross or some other place that doesn't even sell craft supplies.

Want to keep the text block upright while you glue it? Bookends. Want to sew some custom end bands but your text block keeps falling over? Bookends. They won't provide pressure for squishing, but if you just need to hold something upright while you work on it, bookends are the answer. They hold up books, it's right there in the name. Having said that, you want some with a little weight to them, like these agate slices, so they won't slide around. And you want something with a smooth finished edge like these, so they won't scratch up your text block or leave dents. I have other sets but these are the only ones I use for this purpose, and they're better for it than anything else I've got.

Moving on from making the text block, let's look at what I use to make covers.

It's appeared in the background of most of the other photos, but here's a photo of just the desk surface covered in cutting mats. I really recommend a mat to protect the surface of your furniture and keep your knives from going immediately dull. I've got a big one that covers almost the full surface, and a small one for when I want to be more mobile. I started with just the small one and it was good until I started working with larger sheets of paper. The big one was bought largely for convenience but I have no regrets about it. They're self-healing, non-slip, and you can get them in the sewing section of any big craft store.

I'll be honest, I am not big on knives. I've got a regular box cutter for trimming board, and a razor knife for paper and cloth, and that's it. There are a lot of kinds and really all you need is one sharp blade for board. Paper and cloth can be cut with scissors if you want, though I find I get more consistently straight lines with the knives. Also pictured: Metal rulers and a T-square. You want a metal ruler for this. Plastic will flex and wood won't lay flat. Ideally you want one without a cork backing (my 18" one has this problem) and with the tick marks etched in rather than printed (my 12" one has this problem). For larger sheets of paper and cloth, the 18" one is great, but you can get by with the smaller one. The T-square is for making right angles; mine is plastic and only 12", and I really wish I had a longer one that was metal. These are drafting tools and you'll find them in the section of the craft store that has easels and sketch pads and they're usually pretty cheap.

This is an adjustable compass. You can probably get these at craft stores but I got mine on Amazon. It's for measuring hinge gaps and the width of spines, both essential for making sure your cover fits your text block and your hinges open the way they should. Both of those are incredibly frustrating situations, and this thing makes it so much easier to avoid them.

Things to spread glue with! Any old paintbrush will do, though I like to have a few different sizes and textures on hand to choose from. I like the big one for cover boards and casing in, the mid-size ones for doing turn-ins, and the little fellow for details and touch-ups. I don't care for foam brushes because I find them hard to clean when glue is involved, but if you like you can use those. The metal thing on the left is a micro-spatula, and I did have to special order it from an art supply place but it was cheap and it's very helpful to have on hand for when the brushes are too thick, for doing turn-ins on rounded spines, and for separating pages if you decide to learn edge foiling. Not essential, but recommended.

One thing I neglected to take a photo of is my crepe eraser. Despite the best intentions, no matter how careful you are, you will at some point get glue where you don't want it, where it will be visible on the finished book. This is where the crepe eraser comes in; you can use it to remove dried glue from cloth or (to a lesser extent) paper. Very annoyingly, none of the craft or art supply places I went to had even heard of these and I had to get mine from Amazon. It was cheap (under $10) and I strongly recommend getting one.

Once your cover is made, you have some options. You can leave it blank, hand-letter or draw an image, stamp it with ink or embossing powder, use a stencil, or do what I usually do these days and make a cover graphic from HTV. I've got a cricut for this (though they're not the only kind of cutting machine; it pays to research other brands) and a mini heat press (I want a bigger one, but I got this one cheap because the box is messed up). A lot of libraries have cricuts you can use, and you can use a regular iron to apply the HTV. Getting it to stick is a bit tricky, but that's true no matter which tools you use. Not pictured: a cutting mat, different than the kind shown above, necessary with most materials you can cut (mine came with one, they're about $20 at most craft stores, and they're lightly sticky to keep your materials in place while it's being cut). I don't know if other brands require them, but cricut does unless you're using their Smart Materials (I have never used these). If your library has a cutting machine, they will also have the appropriate cutting mats. Also not pictured: weeding tools. Weeding is when you remove the bits of HTV that you don't want in the final image, usually the spaces between letters and such. The negative space, if you want to get artsy. The special tools cricut sells aren't necessary, you can use an awl or needle and the dull edge of your knife blade, but I have a set of theirs and I like mine.

I didn't take a photo of it, but sometimes I use embossing inks and powder to make cover designs and text. You only need a heat gun for embossing powder, it takes up way less space than the cricut does, and it's cheaper. I got mine free from a family member so I don't know what it cost initially, but cutting machines are a really big expense; the cricut is my third most expensive piece of equipment, after the finishing press and the plow.

Good god I think that's everything. It sounds intimidating, I know. And it sounds like it takes up tons of space in your home, and to be honest it can, but it doesn't have to. The first dozen or so books I made, I made completely to my satisfaction with tools and materials that fit in one 12x16" moving box. If you love the hobby and can make the space, the bulkier items might be worth it down the line, but especially when you're first getting started it's smart to keep things low-cost and compact. Most of the basics are simple and your fellow bookbinders are delighted to share their shortcuts and substitutions if you ask.

The end! I hope it was helpful, @cardassianexpats! I did warn you it would be wordy, lol.

[ultraviolet-cello]

Yo what's up it's me, ya boi, [horrendous infection that knocked me down for a couple days]

Anyway I'll be catching up episodes 3 4 and 5 tomorrow/day after, but for now I just wanna do my thing with ep 6. 6&7 are possibly some of my favourite episodes in Tristamp, so I'm hyped to show off my theories/details about them.

Once again spoilers for Trimax [HEAVY spoilers in this case, we're talking about Legato and Razlo]

TL;DR there's something fucked up with Tristamp Livio and by extension Razlo, and I need more of them all the time.

@tristampparty I'm back in the game!

So a lot of these theories and details will link to episode 7 :]

So of note in this scene is (obviously) Wolfwood's weird red eyes which. Pretty cool ngl. But I do think there's something to be said about the way he pauses and carries the Punisher in this scene; there's a pretty popular theory that Wolfwood gets extremely overstimulated when he takes a vial and the way he pauses and wobbles with the Punisher here is, for me, more evidence for the list.

Also that they won't give this man a CAR. Give him a Thomas or something??? I think it speaks to the dehumanization of Wolfwood by EOM that he doesn't seem to get to use transport like a normal person - always set to wander the desert, because he can survive that! Not like a normal person, of course. Only the Punisher is inhuman enough to do that.

I'll have what he's having [I love that Nightow's wanted poster gets in the magazine despite being. Yknow, 30 $$]

I'll talk about this more when I actually get round to analyzing episode 5, but Roberto calling out Vash's not-being-human and then immediately going "well I'm not risking my life for that" is interesting because he's, well, a reporter. It speaks to his experience that he's not willing initially to chase down something that could be a big scoop. But also,,,, Vash looks like. 20. Roberto is probably about in his 30s-40s, which means he's probably heard of Vash since childhood [Since Tristamp Vash has a much longer reputation history than Trimax/98]. I really wonder what Roberto thinks of that; did the picture not come as a shock to him, or did he already know? Does part of the reason he keeps letting himself be talked into following Vash stem from a lifelong curiosity? Much to think about.

This plant HAUNTS me. Why does she have such a different tank? Used to power the Ion Cannon, maybe, but there's the possibility people adjusted it so she can better power the sandsteamer and that's,,,, There's a complicated relationship between humans and plants (obviously), but little implications like those adjustments make me go !!!! [My friend @millions-dykes has a Plant Engineer oc, Enigma, who focuses on that concept. She's very cool]

LIVIO SIGHTED. Let me get this out of the way quickly, but y'know that panel that is often cited as inspiration for Tristamp Livio's design? Yeah that's. That's Razlo.

Which is really fucking funny to me because it's foundational to Tristamp Livio - love that for him, but trimax Livio specifically does not wield Punishers, and the page that this appears on is when Razlo is getting Livio to tell him he's the strongest (Which then goes into this training flashback montage page which is Razlo-centric). Which again, extremely funny to me.

Not necessarily analysis, but something all iterations of Trigun do great at is a sense of Scale. The sandsteamer is massive, yes, but so is the desert. There's some great shots with the moons later on, which I love as well.

Wolfwood really doesn't try and keep it secret, huh? I mean, in every iteration Vash Knows[TM], but tristamp Wolfwood in particular just,,, doesn't keep the secret. I wonder what other conversations they've had, when Wolfwood realized Vash knew.

Being always able to see Wolfwood's eyes gives him a layer of emotion that I really like - Trimax Wolfwood is a little more reserved, because he's more developed, further layered into those coping mechanisms and repressions that make up his character. Tristamp Wolfwood hasn't quite had that yet, and it's reflected in his design. It's sick as hell

Time for me to be so normal about Livio and Razlo ^_^ so I've built up a bit of a study case on the differences in when Livio or Razlo are fronting [Trimax], and once you start looking into paneling and shit it's Very apparent! Which is cool! And I'm starting to build up one for Tristamp Livio, which,,, well, you'll see. Anyway take note of his movements here - slow, even footsteps and steady guns.

The mask here is. Also a red flag for something being Off. The eye moving independently suggests that either they have some Weirder Than Usual Body Stuff going on, that Trimax Livio and Razlo can do that and nobody comments on it because they're being polite or - My theory - the mask having those electrical components are embedded somewhat in Livio's face. I will explain in just a second.

Livio as a kid being so upset about his parents interests me - In Trimax, Razlo kills Livio's parents because Razlo was formed as a protective alter due to heavy childhood abuse, and Livio doesn't seem too upset by that specifically, more just being,,, alone. I wonder what happened with their parents in this specific timeline, or if Razlo just hasn't presented yet.

Now I've uh. Kinda semi-intentionally blocked out some stuff I've read in the Bible, but I do remember someone being crucified upside down. St Peter that was it! I don't remember anything else but I'm sure people more well-versed in the Bible will have some imagery to point out lol

Legato's outfit seems a touch inspired by that one July flashback in Trimax. Which, given that Tristamp is a leadup to July, is a nice touch!

Legato might be a bit protective of his hair. Can't imagine why.

On a more serious note, it makes sense for Legato to have such a protectiveness around his body and physical appearance, especially if Knives had an influence in it.

sands undertal

I really do wonder what Legato's ability is in this. Like unless they retrieved Vash's arm from the. Wherever it got sucked into when it was amuptated they can't go the 98 route. But the wire explanation of Trimax also doesn't quite seem to fit. Something new, maybe. Could be related to Plants!

I wonder if Vash here is thinking about Rollo. That Wolfwood was willing to kill Rollo out of mercy, and he's going to do it again to Livio. Except this time, Wolfwood knows Livio. Vash doesn't know Livio, but Wolfwood does and it's going to hurt Wolfwood if Vash lets him carry on with this. So he goes to save Livio, and save Wolfwood as well. Similar to Trimax, where Vash kills Legato to save Livio as a remnant of Wolfwood's memory, Vash here could be protecting Livio to protect Wolfwood.

Okay here's where my crack theories come in. So I do think that Razlo is elbowing his way into front about here, not even necessarily because Livio is getting his ass handed to him, but because of the mask. He's probably not fully There, because the progressing fighting style continues in Livio's movements, but the eye changes are. Well, it's Livio and Razlo you can never be too careful.

So Livio hits the mask here and is down for the count for. A Bit. What's important here to me is that the mask does of course have an electrical component. Now, what would that be for? Well, gathering that Livio seemingly has a bit of trouble after this (early episode 7, this is a two parter theory), that the mask is used by EOM to force a switch remotely. After the mask seemingly malfunctions, we get a lot more Razlo-esque movements and traits in episode 7 before Livio seems to come back in and have his little meltdown.

It links in with both dehumanization of neurodivergent people (In this case, a system) and the usage of Razlo and Livio by EOM. Razlo's very often portrayed as Big Scary Murder Alter by EOM for scare factor, whereas when we get a bit more into Razlo's head in the Elendira fight we see a bit more what he's actually like - protective alter groomed into assassinhood by Chapel - and lends more understanding to the character. EOM being able to force trigger a switch would be viscerally horrifying for that loss of autonomy theme in a way that speaks to many neurodivergent people. Thanks for coming to my ted talk????

[upsidedior]

Silly excerpt from my one and only complete fanfic that I'm thinking about going back and fixing lol

Enjoy my trash

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

Somewhere on the other side of the island a signal was releasing with an annoying beeping sound. The green lights flashed on the bottom of the experiment container, the dome materializing a holographic image of a white furred female canine creature with three eyes and two antennae. "Warning. Experiment 259 has been activated. Primary function; Dream viewer." The nonstop beeping was getting under his skin.

"625, could you get that?" A deep voice called from the back room of his X-Class Battle cruiser. The ship needed some repairs from his last mission; certain parts had blown out thanks to an electrical genetic mutant with trillion watts of voltage coursing through it. He was extremely pissed one of those parts was the main cable line. "Hey, can you get the container?" No answer…and that irritating beeping. "625, push the button on the container please." The voice called out again.

"Warning. Experiment 259 has been activated. Primary function; Dream viewer."

Now he was getting angry. "625, push the button!" Still no answer and that beeping…it was taunting him! The gigantic alien growled clenching his fists as he did so. This was exactly what he needed, the sandwich freak going rouge on him. The alien stood up to his full height walking towards the annoying beeping room's entrance which happened to be the main galley. He poked his head out, scanning the room for any sign of the sandwich making trog. Still nowhere to be found.

"Warning. Experiment 259 has been activated. Primary function; Dream viewer."

Oh this was getting old. "Blitznak." He grunted walking over to the container with the holographic image of another illegal abomination running loose on the island. He hit the button and that aggravating beeping finally ceased. The image enlarged, displaying the genetic mutant in further detail. White fur, three brightly shiny black eyes, two antennae and an odd circular crest on its back, Experiment 259 was an identical match to Experiment 626 in body structure only seemed more delicate than it's latter cousin's design. Not meant for fighting. For being a scientific genius that idiot scientist didn't show much variation in body composition for these mutants. It showed female characteristics a lot like that… oh what was that blasted trog's name? Uh… Angie?...Angel?...Carrie? Charlotte? Miranda? Sama…oh Blitznack. The big alien shook his head. He needed to stop watching that scandalous show. Single Human females and their courtship rituals, he was surprised they weren't ruling the planet itself. Though the show was very interesting… if there was one thing constant in this vast universe, females of all species were on a constant quest to find the perfect mate and the perfect accessory for outfits. Even his species females were the same! It was freaky. 625 would laugh at him whenever he watched the program, until "certain scenes" came along…who was laughing now? And besides, he thought, Charlotte was cutie.

"Hey, Fish Lips," a small pudgy genetic mutant wobbled in with a bag of groceries. "Give me a hand will ya? I got some food for my latest create… hey, who's that?"

"Where in the flagnarg did you go?" Gantu looked down at the beige sandwich making experiment. "And that's my paycheck you're spending on unnecessary purchases! All for sandwiches?" 625 waved his pudgy hand to shoo the gigantic whale-like alien out of his way as he trotted towards the experiment container.

"Quit complaining, chowder head, it's food. Now who's this little lady, huh?" 625 raised his eyebrow with a small devious look at the hologram. Gantu rolled his eyes and shrugged. This was the fifth paycheck the little trog used just for buying sandwich supplies. Now he knew what a single father felt like. "Dream viewer experiment?" 625 leaned back from the holographic image, "Huh, why would Jumba create an experiment for that? He's got that other one that invades dreams, why view them?"

"He what?" Gantu gave 625 a puzzling expression. "When did that one become active?"

"Don't you pay attention?" The sandwich maker put his paws on his hips. "The little girl named it Remmy or Remus, something corny like that. It was a few weeks ago, the container wouldn't stop complaining about it, so I unplugged it." The giant alien felt his heart skip a beat as he looked incredulous at his roommate.

"You unplugged the container communicator?" Gantu turned on his heel with his hands extended in the air. "Ugh! That explains the lull." He lowered his arms, his hands covering his face. "Oh Blitznak, cosmos knows how many abominations the little earth girl and the trog caught while I was MIA! Hamsterviel's gonna have my head…"

"He'll have more than just your head, Fish brain, you'll be served on a platter with all the trimmings of a fish dinner, cole slaw and everything. Hey, think of it as normal weeks for you, you never catch anything! Ha!" the little beige mutant broke out into a laughing spasm. Gantu let out a loud growl, muttering in his native tongue about disemboweling the trog limb from limb in a feeding frenzy.

"Watch the ship, I'm heading out to find and catch this one before those two find it first." Grabbing his blaster and the glass experiment containers, he left the ship, not without hearing 625 shout behind,

"Go get'em, Shamu! Bahahahaha!"

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

Gantu had been searching the island for over an hour with no sign of the abomination or those pesky "cousin-loving" duo. He sighed, at this rate that experiment was as good as gone now. There was no way he was thinking about going back to his ship, 625 would be waiting with some snide comment and Hamsterviel on the communicator harassing him with insults. Maybe he would just search the island a little more; that Samoan gig was doing well for his camouflage fitting into this planet. Humans were stupid. They were really taking him as one of them, just a big one. Well, he thought to himself, he was on a backwater planet in classified territory; he was not on an updated map. This galaxy was refrained to as Roswell's Area, no one was permitted to fly near here or make any form of contact with the locals. He was not even sure his old military captain had ventured out here. And yet, here he was, in classified territory getting his ass kicked in every direction. The big alien felt his life was taking a turn for the worst; dishonorly discharged, crappy job, and banishment on a forsaken planet. Yep he was definitely getting his ass kicked.

Even though the foreign planet taunted him, Gantu could not help but feel natural in this alien world. He hated to admit it, but he sometimes felt out of place on his home world. He could not place his finger on it, but he always felt natural, a sense of belonging. He sometimes wondered if the planet's sun caused these thoughts. The sun and his own internal instincts would drive him to the large body of water surrounding the island. Humans called it an "ocean." He called it trouble. And the vicious cycle of thoughts, internal mechanisms, and long swims continued day after day, weeks after weeks until he, Gantu, was on this miserable rock for over two years. Well, he pondered to himself, it could be worse; he could have a sucky job with an abusive boss and a sandwich making roommate…oh…right…

"Oh blitznak." The ex-Captain of the Galactic Armada found himself standing in front of the so called "ocean." His damn internal mechanisms led him right to the water's edge. This was becoming more frequent along with the headaches that came with it. "Double blitznak." Gantu let out a sigh. He needed to clear his head, finding that experiment would keep his mind busy. With that in mind, along with the pounding headache, the "Samoan" set out towards the town in hopes of locating the newest member of trogs running loose on the island.

The town was busy, bustling with Earthlings here and there. He could only guess it was getting towards midday or "noon" the little earth girl called it. The sun was at its peak angle, the heat increasing which was making the alien sweat. Gantu had walked around the town once again, saying his usual lie whenever an earthling asked about his size, and still to no avail. No experiment in sight. Oh well, he sighed as he leaned against a shaded palm tree, he would try again and again until he found something.

And then he saw them. There was no denying the blue fur and odd earthly plant pattern on the child's dress. The little earth girl and the abomination were traveling with none other than its "cousin" experiment 259 in tow and…another female earthling. She was an older female, quite a few years older and the skin color was a lighter shade than of the little earth girl's skin. Hair was lighter as well. Coincidently, she looked a lot like his cable crush that Charlotte character.

"Hmm… where are you going?" Gantu allowed a little smile to spread across his lips. Well, he needed to hunt the experiment which was traveling with the trog-loving duo, why not enjoy a little eye candy? He knew 625 would be heckling him by now, either getting off his keister to catch the experiment or to stop eyeing up the poor earthling.

The big alien straightened up with his plasma blaster set on 'Stun.' He needed one clear shot of the blue trog and Experiment 259 was within his grasp. He just needed to conceal himself from the abomination's visual sensors.

There was the tropical vegetation up the road with a small clearing… "Perfect."

[nellie-elizabeth]

The Legend of Vox Machina: Hell to Pay (3x04)

Another great episode, turns out!

Cons:

This is going to be a bit difficult to articulate but it almost felt like we were missing a narrative beat somewhere before Pike and Zerxus began their card game. We know that there's a vestige, we know that the vestige is supposed to be instrumental in defeating Thordak, we know the stakes are high to get it... but it's also just a mostly abstract tool at this point. The others have powerful vestiges, is one more vestige worth the eternal damnation of not only Pike but also all her friends? I think I was missing a beat where the group seriously contemplates turning around and leaving, and then there's one more nudge as to why this is worth the astronomical price of failure. I also felt like it was a little silly that J'Mon apparently sent them down to Hell with absolutely no context or warning other than "this one dude has the armor, go get it." Wouldn't they have gone in a bit more prepared to have to offer something in return?

So there's this interesting tidbit with Zerxus (who I loved and will praise in a moment) where he says "we are his blood," and it seems like he's maybe working for the Whispered One? That would be a cool little tease for potential future seasons, but I feel like viewers who aren't really dedicated and deal-oriented might be confused by that, so I felt like a more concrete reminder might have been warranted.

Pros:

Despite that little wobble in the stakes-setting, I overall really enjoyed this episode. Great for us to get some Pike-centric story going, here!

The setting of Hell was so cool and creative, I felt like every moment gave me a fresh opportunity to enjoy a gruesome sight or creative character design. Scanlan's disguises for the group were also a lot of fun, I especially loved seeing Pike all furry and snugly.

This was a strong episode for Keyleth comedy, I loved her trying to lean in to being a disgusting Hell beast and eating the worm, and Vax's reaction of horror. Plus just her trying to do a scary Hell voice instead of her usual more timid register.

Pike's struggle to figure out the right thing to do is really interesting here, with the Everlight trying to warn her but also wanting her to choose her own path. I appreciate the way her relationship with her goddess functions in this show; it feels like a lot of what the Everlight is doing is empowering Pike to make her own fate, rather than doing more direct divine intervention, which is great for keeping the stakes balanced. Also, whenever we see that light flickering out in her little pendant, we know it means Pike is going to be without the backup/security of her goddess's presence. We've seen how bad that's shaken her in the past, so it was extra cool to see her buckle down and be a bad-ass even when she had those doubts planted in her head.

Let's talk about Zerxus!! So hot! Luis is here! I loved loved loved seeing him. What a cool added element for those of us who have seen Calamity, but also I feel like narrative-wise it's a perfectly reasonable swap-out for how the story went in the original. It felt like having secret forbidden knowledge when he was like "my friends ruined everything with their hubris, and then Asmodeus tricked me." Like, sir. Sir. Are you mayhaps editing the truth just slightly? But I also thought it worked on its own terms. I noticed that the backstory was slightly different as to his husband, but thought that was interesting too, feeding into this idea of his punishment being about being forgotten.

I loved Pike's moment of triumph specifically - the way it tied into Zerxus's story, and Pike's understanding of what it means to have ugly, uncomfortable, and selfish thoughts. Pike has admitted that she wonders if her life would be better without the Everlight, and now she gets Zerxus to realize that his loneliness overrides his desire to keep his family safe.

We didn't have much of a check-in with the Draconia crew, but we did see them briefly, on the cusp of finding out if Kima is okay. I'm excited to check in more with that story when I get around to watching the next episode!

That's all for now! Still loving this show, still hitting on all cylinders. It's interesting to watch the show when I feel really unsure of how things are going to shake out! Things are so different from what I've seen before.

8/10

[joysmercer]

Today should be the happiest day of Gina's life.

That's what her mom said when she woke her up this morning (bright and early, for the dress fitting); Quinn and Miss Jenn had repeated some version of the phrase over the course of the day. Even just now, Maddox pulled her away from the dressing room with an air of excitement Gina has yet to feel herself.

This moment should be the happiest of Gina's life. She knows she should be soaking it all in, paying attention to every step, every swish of this designer gown around her ankles, committing the scene to memory.

The world is your oyster, now.

So why does she feel like her world is ending, instead?

The hallway fades into a dizzying blur around Gina. She vaguely recognizes the presence of two other PAs on either side of her, like guards (though, right now, they feel more warden-like than protective). Maddie's hand slips from hers, moments away from grasping the handle of the stage entrance, and—

"Wait," Gina rasps. It's just one word, but she has to force it out like she's trying to cough up peanut butter.

It's not like there's much of a choice, when you're choking.

"Porter, you're already late. The reporters are getting—"

"No, just—" she spots a blob of white in the periphery. Her vision swimming, she turns to it, pleading, "Mommy, please, just a minute?"

The blob says something, but her hearing's gone, now, too, and all Gina can do is lean against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut.

The blobs disappear, the ringing in hear ears fades, and she tries desperately to catch her breath. Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know, her mind starts to sing, out of nowhere. An absurd song for an equally absurd moment.

Put on a show!

But then again, she was never much of an Elsa, was she.

Make one wrong move and everyone will know.

And, suddenly, someone's touching, then gripping, her shoulders. Gina stiffens, not trusting herself to open her eyes just yet.

If this is how it ends, getting kidnapped by someone because she insisted on a moment alone, then—

"Gi, Gi, can you hear me?"

Ricky.

Gina opens her eyes.

"Sorry, did I startle you? I called your name, like, three times, and you were just—"

His brows are furrowed, those brown eyes staring right into the depths of her soul. She takes one look at him and knows.

Knows she loves him.

Knows, with every fiber of her being, that he loves her.

And she can't bear the thought of leaving here without him knowing.

"I love you," she whispers.

But the voice she hears is stronger, deeper, and…decidedly not hers.

"Wait, what?" she splutters.

"I love you." Ricky smirks. "I love you," he says again, cupping her cheek. "I love you." He brushes their lips together, soft and sweet. "I—"

"I love you too, Ricky Bowen," Gina interrupts, wanting to make sure he hears her properly. "God, I love you too." She kisses him once more.

"Ok, now that that's established," Ricky says, when they finally break apart. "What do you say we head inside? The whole world awaits!"

Oh, yeah. That. Gina's knees start to wobble again, Ricky's arms draped over her shoulders being the only thing steadying her. "I, um. I can't?"

Ricky frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I can't," Gina repeats. "I don't want to." The minute the words leave her mouth, a weight lifts off her shoulders, and an angel gains their wings. Or whatever the phrase is. "Yeah, I don't want to."

"But—"

"Ricky," Gina says, slowly. "I haven't signed a contract yet."

It takes a moment for the implication of her words to dawn on him. "Wait, you're—"

"Let's get out of here, please?" she asks, extra sweetly.

He doesn't need to be asked a second time. He grabs her hand and runs, their giggles intermingling as they sprint halfway down the hallway, together.

"Wait!" a voice calls. They turn to find Maddox jogging up to them. "I'm coming too."

"Maddie—"

"A job is a job. You're my friend," she shrugs. "Besides, I don't wanna be the one to have to clean up that mess."

Ricky loops his free arm through hers. "The more the merrier!"

Gina laughs and they take off once again. Just as they turn the corner, they find…

…the rest of the Drama Club. "Where are you guys going?" Miss Jenn asks.

Before Gina can come up with an explanation, Ricky jumps in, saving the day for the umpteenth time. "I dunno, where do theater kids go after opening night?" he asks cheekily.

Their friends immediately start cheering. They leave Jenn to explain to a bemused Mazzara and run out the door.

A man in a tuxedo and a gold-plated nametag gets out of the limousine waiting for them out front. "Gina Porter?" the chauffeur asks, hurrying to open the passenger door.

Gina turns to her friends and shrugs. It's not technically stealing if the guy offers.

"Hell yeah!" Ash squeals. Gina takes that as her cue and climbs in, everyone else clambering after.

[jadethest0ne]

OMG did you see the TMNT Mutant Mayhem trailer yet?? If not, please let us know your thoughts after you see it!! The turts are so skrunkly in it!!

I did the day it came out! And I yelled a lot about it to some friends haha! I'll just reiterate some of those ramblings here! And I'll include some of the screenshots I took with the details that I liked!

Also, yes, the turtles are indeed, very skrunkly XD

Spoilers and screenshots below

The main thing that caught my eye, other than the character designs, was the animation

Look how they did the motion blurs! It's like little scribbles, that's so fun!

Even the glow on certain things are little wobbly lines and scribbles. Little moving glow-lines! It's such an imaginative way to show lighting!

The smear frames are similarly scribbly, too! And you can see the textures of all the lines! They're like marker or crayon

The lighting in these frames are amazing! Like in the first one it looks glowy and messes with the color palette, but the second one looks almost cold and has stark lights and shadows! It's got a pretty defined color palette, but seems to know when to break it for certain moods and scenarios

And then there's this cool detail I liked, of red streaks following Raph's eyes as he whips around in this shot

I can't really show this in images, but I enjoyed all the little movement details! Like how Mikey kinda tries to move the watermelon higher on his fingers while he waits for Raph to throw a ninja star at it. Or Leo instantly scrunching up when Raph finally throws the star. The way Mikey jumps/grabs onto Donnie to see his phone. The shifts in expressions and how they look at/react to each other during the "ooze" scene. Or just the general shifts between expressions. Good shit right there!

And I'm gonna end this on a bunch of expressions that I enjoyed :3

At every turn this movie is giving me something more to be hyped about. First it was the designs, then it was the blurbs during interviews on how they want to portray the characters/arcs, and now it's this gorgeous and unique animation! I am very excited for this version of the turtles! I know what I'm doing August 4th!

[oreramar]

Florist Talk: Deliveries

Time to talk about what happens when flowers leave the shop! As always, I'm talking from the anecdotal perspective of someone working in a small US flower shop. This is going to be especially important for this one because the place I work at has some Delivery Rules that I know for a fact aren't - maybe can't be - universal, especially if you get into bigger cities.

For writing purposes, take inspiration from any bits of this that could be interesting for whatever plot you're writing out, and change others as makes sense or is properly narrative.

So, first of all - is your Florbo going to be running deliveries at all?

I do, because it's a small shop and we don't have a dedicated delivery driver. I design flowers and also drive them places, except on very very very busy days when we get other people in just to drive, like Valentine's and Mother's Day.

If you're writing a bigger shop in a bigger city, or even a small one with more dedicated roles, a flower design Florbo might not drive deliveries unless it's very needed, for whatever reason. Even so, you could have another character of some importance be the dedicated driver anyhow, or you might just vaguely need or want the opening to a scene be the driver coming back complaining about something that happened on the run, so this still might be useful.

So here's roughly what happens when Flower Deliveries go out:

Deliveries get sorted by Most Efficient Route. If a delivery address is unknown it can be looked up on a map. Maybe someone uses GPS to navigate. Maybe the Flower System being used can map a route for you automatically. Maybe it's all done in the driver's head because they know the area really well by now.

Flowers (and other things like balloons, etc) get put into the back of the Flower Delivery Van. There are holders back there to keep things in place en route. These holders can vary from foam inserts in plastic trays, with circular shapes in various sizes cut out of them, to wood boxes with more various circular shapes cut out of the top, to styrofoam trays with various openings to, heck it, some of those heavy cinderblock bricks with cloth or foam lining the inside so glass vases don't chip on the edges on turns.

Broadly speaking, these measures will mostly be effective. Sometimes the fit is loose, though, and a change in direction or speed is too sharp, and the driver will hear something rustle, thump, and start to trickle water. That is never a good sound.

Some vases fit the holders better than others. The ideal is a good snug fit that doesn't allow wobble, let alone clank-clank-clank on every turn or bump.

Deliveries tend to have matching delivery slips that are kept up front by the driver and are used to remind driver of addresses and to check things off as they're done. Personal anecdote: it's the norm at my workplace to write the time of delivery on the slip when it's done, so that if anyone calls later and asks if/when it was delivered we can give that info.

Here's where stuff is gonna vary: the rule at my place is that the delivery goes to the door of the house, and if no one answers, it cannot be left there. If no one answers the door, we call the recipient's phone number off the slip, assuming we got it. If we get an answer there, we ask if there's a better time to deliver these flowers, or another place within town - sometimes someone's at work and can receive them there, or they're out until a certain point and we'll return then.

If no one answers the phone, or if we don't have their number, we call the person who ordered the thing, and tell them what's up and ask if they have a way to get hold of the person the flowers are for. Sometimes it's a yes, and we get the info asked for above. Sometimes they also fail.

Sometimes voicemails must be left, with the store's phone number given and a request to arrange a better delivery time. Sometimes the voicemail box is full or has not been set up yet and we just gotta try again later.

The flowers are never left, only messages. They go back to the store if they must. They are stored in the cooler for the next day if they really must. They are remade a week later if they really really must (sometimes people go on vacation out of town right when someone they know, who doesn't know about the vacation, decides to send them birthday flowers or something).

This rule is definitely not universal. I've sent flowers other places and been told how they were just left on the front step and were found by accident as the recipient didn't ever hear a doorbell or knock or get a phone call like the website said they would upon delivery.

Businesses tend to be easier to deliver stuff to than houses. At the very least you've generally got some kind of front desk or counter to leave the things at.

Other little notes on delivering stuff:

If in a cold season and place, like sub-freezing cold, flowers must be put into plastic bags which are taped or stapled or tied shut before they go outside. This traps just enough warm air around the flowers to keep them from freezing between building and vehicle and building. There is a fine line between "cooler which keeps flowers fresh longer" and "freezing air that will give flowers frostbite so that they look nice until they thaw at which point they go to hell immediately."

Sometimes someone is sent flowers from someone they don't want flowers from. I have been told that, as flower shop, we have to complete the delivery. We can't take them back. What happens to them after they're out of our hands is, well, out of our hands, but we gotta be able to honestly tell the customer, if asked, that we did indeed successfully deliver the flowers. That being said, write what you will.

Delivering balloons on a windy day is hell. I haven't lost one to the wind yet - knots and strings tend to be pretty sturdy and I keep a good grip on them - but they will batter you all around the head as you try to walk with them, and if there are multiple they will tangle the strings together.

A delivery driver of any type probably knows the general area pretty damn well. Even if they don't know exactly where XYZ street is, chances are they know the general direction where it should be.

A florist driver probably knows by heart the location of and routes to nearby/local hospitals, clinics, funeral chapels, schools, and quite possibly churches.

Sometimes you get to meet one or more Very Good Dogs on a delivery and it is the highlight of your day.

[randofics]

Just some party Pt.1?

Bruce Wayne x southern reader

Dragged along to a rich party you meet Bruce Wayne who takes an interest in you.

Your aunt had dragged you along to a rich party saying you needed to meet a rich guy and get married already! Begrudgingly you went with her, mostly to get her off your tail about it. You hated the dress she'd gotten you as it was too tight in some places and you just hated dresses in general. When you got to the party you were surprised that it wasn't some ball like gathering and instead there was a dance floor with lit up tiles and tall tables where people were drinking cocktails and other fancy drinks. There wasn't classical music playing. Instead there was club music though the more toned down stuff, playing over the speakers.

Your aunt ran off with her friends leaving you to mingle on your own. When you sat at the bar the bartender put down the glass he was drying and asked what you'd like. As you waited for your drink you looked around the room. There weren't many people much older than you here and most seemed around your age. You were surprised your aunt even wanted to go to a party like this. The lights changed colors every once in a while bathing the whole party in blue, green, or any other color of the rainbow for a minute or two. A guy sat next to you and ordered a drink of his own as you sipped on yours. You got creepy vibes from him but before you could leave he asked how your night was going. "Good, I haven't been here long." He nodded turning fully to you. "Would you like another drink? It's on me." "No thanks this is all I'll be having tonight." "Mmh you the designated driver?" You decided to go with that. "Yeah my aunt is running around here somewhere and she's definitely getting drunk." With that he seems to lose interest in you and you slip away going to stand at one of the tall tables.

Another guy steps up to you. He's more portly and short and he looks a bit older than you. "You want to dance doll?" You politely smile and turn him down. He gets a bit angry and insists that you join him on the dance floor. Your mood changes and you snap at him. "I said no ok? I don't really want to dance with anyone tonight!" He seems to have a change in demeanor his face softens and he nods in understanding. "Alright then have a good night." You sigh as he walks away and you wipe a hand down your face in exasperation. "Excuse me miss?" Annoyed at this point you snap at the man, turning to look at him. "What is it now!?" Your eyes widen at the sight of the tall dark haired guy. He's good looking and you apologized for your outburst. "Don't worry about it, I saw those guys bothering you and I wanted to make sure you were alright." You nod turning fully to him with your drink in hand. "Yeah my aunt dragged me along to this party so I could find a guy to hopefully marry. Of course I'm not really interested in that right now." "Mmh yeah I've had some of the older woman introducing their daughters and nieces to me for the past hour. So I understand what you're going through."

Suddenly your aunt's voice called you. You both looked at her as she walked over smiling drunkenly though she wasn't wobbly. "Y/n my dear you found Mr. Wayne!" You looked a bit shocked back at him, he was smiling at your aunt as she hung on his arm telling him about you. "You're Bruce Wayne!?" You squeaked and your aunt turned to you. "Oh yes dear you didn't know that?" "No I didn't." "Bruce dear you're still single aren't you?" "Um yes I am why do you ask?" He was smiling politely but you could tell he already knew what she was getting at. "Oh! my dear y/n here is looking for a boyfriend, perhaps you would be interested in dating her?" He looked to you and you mouthed "sorry!" An embarrassed blush tinted your cheeks but the colored light prevented him from seeing it. "Well she is quite beautiful. I wouldn't be opposed to that so long as she was alright with it." A bright blush covered your cheeks and your aunt looked excitedly at you. "Oh good! What do you think darling?" You stammered unsure of what to say. "We shouldn't rush her, after all we only just met." "Oh you're right! my apologies dear, I'll let you two mingle then." She gave him a kiss on his cheek and waved goodbye, walking back to her friends.

You put your face in your hands in embarrassment. "I'm sorry about her." "Don't be, she's trying to look out for you." "Were you tellin' the truth?" "About what?" "You thinking I'm beautiful, and that you'd date me if I was alright with it?" "Yes I do think your beautiful and yes I would date you. Remember, I never said that I wasn't looking to date." "Right... did you want to talk for a bit then and just get to know each other?" "Sure how about we go somewhere quieter though. There's a balcony through those glass doors over there." You nod and follow him to the balcony. He closes the door behind you muffling the loud music. "So Bruce Wayne huh?" You lean forward on the marble railing looking out at the sprawling garden. "The one and only." "Have you ever thought about what it's like to be middle or even lower class? Like me, I'm not rich by any means and I like living simpler rather than buying sports cars and a big house." "I have and I wouldn't be opposed to it, but I got my house and land from my parents along with Wayne enterprises. And I'm not about to let some corrupt businessman get their hands on my company." "Ok good! See guys like you is what this world needs. And less of these money hungry... well you get the point." "There are a lot of things this world needs but I'm not confident that all those needs will be met." You nod in agreement, looking over to him as he looks at the moon.

"Do you ever wish you were rich?" You let out a loud laugh. "Yes and no. For one I don't think I'd be able to keep up with it all. I'd rather be a million dollars richer than I am than actually rich. I could settle myself nicely with just that or I could use it for some good. Maybe open some homeless housing or something I don't really know." "What are you doing for a living?" You look at him quizzically. "You really wanna know that?" "Well I thought I could offer you a job, one that would no doubt pay better." "I work in a nursing home kitchen right now. It's a nice place, real fancy." "Really? I'd never have pegged you for that type of job." "It's not really what I want to be doing but it's the best paying I could find." "What would you rather do?" "Well this may surprise you but I'm a beginner welder. I've had training recently and I'm going to take another class soon." He did look surprised. "Huh never would've pegged you for that work either. What type of job are you looking for as far as that goes?" "Well I like sculpture welding but I could do frame welding too." "Ok I think I can work with that. You're rather interesting y/n. You aren't like any other woman I've ever met." "I bet most have been the prissy high and mighty type haven't they?" "Spot on, but just out of curiosity what else is unique about you? It seems like there's more under the surface." You go on to tell him more about yourself and he gets more and more intrigued by the minute.

"You are very well versed in so many topics. Ive almost never had this interesting of a conversation. Maybe your aunt was right in wanting me to date you." You blush again and this time he sees it. "Would you be willing?" He holds out his hand for you to take and you have to think for a second. *screw it!* You take his hand and he kisses the back of your palm. "Then it's official, you don't need to be anywhere tonight do you?" "No, my aunt can have her butler take her home." "Perfect, if you want I can take you home later or if you're up to it you can stay with me for the night." "Ok that sounds good but wouldn't you be missed here?" "It's just a party. I've already greeted everyone and had my announcement so I can leave any time." You nod. "Well in that case what do you have planned?" He pulled you to him by the waist and leaned down, his face close to your's. "Nothing fancy I just want to get to know you more... privately." His swave grin made you blush but you snaked your arms around his neck and inched closer. He closed the distance and your lips connected sweetly. As you broke away you bit your lip. "Alright then let's go." He offered you his arm and walked you back inside.

Your aunt spotted you and made her way over. She excitedly grabs your hand. "So have you decided y/n?" "Yeah auntie we were just about to leave. Oh please don't tell anyone anything ok? I'd like for this to be hush hush for a while." "Oh of course! My lips are sealed, though I may need to stop with the cocktails and go home before I do accidentally say something." "Yeah I think that's a good idea auntie. Do you need me to call your butler?" "No I have my phone with me so I'll go call him right now. You two go have fun." With that she left to call her butler and you walked out of the party with Bruce. His butler was waiting with the car at the bottom of the stairs and he greeted you as you ducked into the seat. "I assume we're going home sir?" "Yes Alfred we're a bit tired after all that partying." He gave you a mischievous wink slinging his arm around your shoulders. Tonight would be fun.

[kryptonitecore]

Reread: The Transformers (2009), #1-4

This comic really wants you to know that Spike Witwicky fucks, and I hate that.

We’ve gone from Furman to McCarthy to Mike Costa, who, as TFWiki points out, was at one point the third most prolific author in the Transformers canon, writing more than thirty issues. He would eventually be outstripped by later writers like Barber and Roberts, but I think I really underestimated just how much of IDW1 Costa actually wrote.

We have another time jump, this time to either two or three years into the future after Megatron’s defeat. I’m slightly wobbly on exactly how long it has been, since the comics themselves waver back and forth. Costa begins with his version of Optimus, who is very verbose… if in a slightly unfortunate way. No to be juvenile, but when you put together phrases like ‘reduced, in our impotence, to naked hope’ I can only assume you are doing it deliberately.

The art is similarly interesting, as Don Figueroa began to opt for Bayverse-inspred designs, which appear in several issues. I’m not a huge fan of that, though it does perhaps indicate who they are aiming this comic towards. A slight quirk in the art of the human characters, meanwhile, is that they often look kind of sleepy, with their eyes half-lidded. That, or they have a sort of resting sneer.

Characterisation with Costa is extremely variable. In some cases he picks up right where Shane McCarthy left off and builds from there, for example with Thundercracker, but with others he takes characters in a completely different direction. I think the most obvious example of this here is Prowl. In one of the first scenes, Prowl sees that Breakdown is potentially about to be captured or killed by Skywatch, Spike Witwicky’s anti-Cybertronian task force. Morally outraged, Prowl impulsively rushes in, breaking cover and disobeying orders to try and help the Decepticon, eventually getting captured for his trouble. Now, character interpretation is subjective, but this is coming after Furman’s strict Prowl, McCarthy’s embattled Prowl in All Hail Megatron, and the introduction of Nick Roche’s cynical, pragmatic version. Not only is this pretty out of character by any of those standards, it’s just kind of a confusing move - there were so many other Autobot characters who could have done something like this more believably, but it ends up being Prowl for some reason.

Ironhide is killed off very early on, so new readers probably would not have had much time to develop an attachment to him, and his backstory with Optimus was only filled out in one of the coda stories at the end of All Hail Megatron.

Speaking of Optimus… Wow, is Costa’s Optimus Prime not working for me at the moment. He’s combining a lot of verbose narration with some very high-handed actions and overall the character seems sort of clueless, vague, and oddly indifferent to the wellbeing of his own faction. I presume that Costa was interested in exploring the idea of a martyr complex and I honestly don’t mind that angle at all, but here the character seems to view himself as beholden to humans to a weird degree, even defecting to Skywatch. I know that Costa was interested in a human-focused storyline, but it’s really kind of jarring to see the character change so abruptly.

This isn’t helped by the fact that a lot of the Cybertronians in general, not even just the Autobots, come across as a bit hapless and are pretty easily captured by small teams of humans with some advanced technology, when only two or three years prior the US military was so incapable of fighting the Decepticons that other countries were preparing nuclear countermeasures. The time-skip helps make this more plausible and characters like Breakdown are presumably not in good condition, but it’s still a massive turnaround that takes place off-page. Regardless of these technological surges, Optimus is portrayed as feeling intensely guilty and somewhat pitying towards humanity, even as Skywatch begins attacking and abducting Autobots, including Prowl. And that’s a thing! Optimus seems weirdly complacent about Prowl being captured, despite the fact that Skywatch were actively trying to kill a fleeing Breakdown and, say, what the Machination did with Sunstreaker. I think perhaps Costa was so focused on developing Optimus’ relationship with the human characters that any sort of loyalty or camaraderie or concern about the second in command being kidnapped is framed as an overreaction. Certainly, Hot Rod/Rodimus is painted as impulsive and over-emotional, even as Optimus abdicates and defects, abandoning his faction in a crisis situation, because he feels really bad, you guys. The problem is that I don’t know if the irony is intentional or not.

Ironhide’s comments really don’t help in that scene, as he is written with a very condescending tone: ‘You did the right thing, Prime. Make the kid [Hot Rod] feel like he’s doing something’. Keep in mind, this is in response to Hot Rod taking a team to rescue Prowl… The apparently shocking revelation that the humans are willing to use lethal weaponry against them (despite the fact that they have killed and abducted multiple Transformers by this point?) results in Ironhide taking a shot for Hot Rod and dying. To be honest, it didn’t have a ton of impact on me, especially as it felt rather hurried. Apparently, Costa wanted to kill of Bumblebee, but Hasbro refused, so Ironhide was substituted in. Initially, I thought that Ironhide’s death was going to be used as a sort of ‘punishment’ for Hot Rod for not listening to Optimus, especially given the emphasis those panels put on the fact that Ironhide died protecting him and his reaction afterwards. However, in the following issues it didn’t seem to head in that direction at all. If anything, it helped to speed up Hot Rod’s alienation from the Autobot hierarchy. Also, a lot of characters call Hot Rod ‘kid’ in this, despite the character not being younger than them in this canon. It’s minor, but the character is written to be particularly immature here in a way I don’t think some fans would appreciate.

The strongest moments of these issues probably come in the one focused on Thundercracker, which I don’t particularly like, yet I suspect is the most competent bit of writing. Between this and ‘Heavy Lies the Head’, perhaps this is an indication that Costa fared better with character-focused issues? However, I didn’t enjoy the slower pace as much as I could have, as one of the chief complaints about the Costa run overall is that it is very decompressed, essentially not a lot happening in each issue and some arguably wasteful uses of limited panel space throughout. As a result, this feels like a slow issue among already slow issues, rather than a change of speed. 

Costa leans heavily into the change of heart for Thundercracker that McCarthy began, really developing his appreciation for humanity and Earth into something more philosophical and personal, a choice that would influence the character’s portrayal for the rest of the continuity. Nevertheless, I don’t love it, as I feel that his internal narration relies on a few too many faulty premises (the Decepticons were incapable of wiping out humanity, Transformers are a static and unchanging species, lacking in personal development, that Earth is the first time that Thundercracker has had an opportunity to appreciate beauty). Ultimately, I think that Costa turns the very internal process of Thundercracker reevaluating his life and then focuses that outwards… But it ends up going in the direction of putting humanity and the Earth at the centre of everything in a way that feels a little self-aggrandising. It feels like it flattens the Cybertronian characters (and any other alien species that are portrayed later) in favour of the human ones, I suppose.

Speaking of flattening, this is a minor bugbear, but IDW1 in this period had a bit of a fixation on ‘brothers’. Characters use the word a lot in dialogue: talking about literal brothers, members of their faction, members of their team, particular friends, and even just anyone with a similar frame type to them. I don’t like it because it’s used to so many times and in so many contexts that it starts to lack any meaning, effectively just flattening social dynamics between specific characters to very broad, boring ideas of loose alliance. Costa also makes a point of having several characters fail to understand idioms, despite the fact that it hasn’t really been a problem in previous comics, which further helps to make their speech seem formal and distant. See also: Optimus Prime’s voice.

This is also my first extended look at Spike Witwicky under a new writer and it’s not great. Thing is, I think there were ways Spike could have been a much more interesting or sympathetic character than he has ended up being so far, even keeping this general shape.  They clearly wanted a more action-hero-esque version of the character, so they aged him up, made him and his father military, had him be incredibly central to the plot and way more adversarial… Yet you also cannot tell me that Costa was not writing him to be obnoxious on purpose. I think wish fulfilment is the only explanation I can think of, that Spike was intended for certain readers to project themselves onto. Hence the insistence on the fact that Spike fucks. And drives a cool car. And is really muscular. And is in a super prestigious position with authority yet does whatever he wants, regardless of the consequences. And the frequent references to incredibly non-specific problems with his father.

Swindle does have good finger guns, though.

[bunnakit]

The Lyrebird King - Chapter 3

(before we get into the last chapter i have prepped i just wanna give the biggest thank you to @lukaherehelp - i've been writing this novel since roughly the beginning of the year and recently slowed WAY down on writing it because there just didn't seem to be an interest and it's hard to want to keep writing if there are no readers. luka motivated me to post this here and i've cherished every reaction and tag so much, it made me love my boys again.)

Caius was not accustomed to the days passing in a blur as they had been. Aries brought an energy to the stagnant ruins that he hadn’t anticipated; the man practically breathed life into the cold cobblestones and worn brick. He’d insisted they clean things up, turn it into a proper living space for them both, and Caius was unable to refuse a sensible request. 

The first few days were spent clearing a cell for Aries (arguably a waste of time for how little he actually slept in it,) as well as craft a pair of makeshift doors for their respective rooms. Next, came the task of creating a pantry and a kitchen. Together, they managed to cobble together a proper stove and oven as well as a relatively weather proofed larder that filled over the coming days.

Throughout it all, Caius was constantly surprised by Aries’ ingenuity and craftsmanship. The man did not hesitate to launch into various projects, obtaining supplies from the surface and creating whatever they needed to suit their needs. It seemed those scarred hands of his were good for far more than grasping lovers and beating opponents. 

Their days were spent close together and Caius was forced to become familiar with sharing the company of another body day in and day out. He found he didn’t hate it, at least not when it was Aries with his affable smiles and easy going nature. He was not unlike a loyal pup, all boundless energy and eagerness to please. It was a personality that he would have previously found grating but now he thought of it as endearing. 

“You know, there’s a lot of space here. Feels empty sometimes, doesn’t it?” Aries spoke up one night over dinner; a simple stew they’d let brew in a cast iron pot and some wine pilfered from a vendor in the market that liked to mark up his prices three times more than what the product was worth. That had been news to Caius, but Aries had pointed out the vintner of the wine and the cost at other vendors. He was sensible with his coin like that and Caius couldn’t help but respect him all the more for it. 

“I suppose. More full now than before.” Caius gestured with his glass in Aries’ direction before pushing his now-empty bowl aside and kicking his feet up on one of the wobbly stools across the table (not one of Aries’ make, he never would have allowed the wobble to persist.) 

“Maybe to a recluse like you. You do know human company is good for you, don’t you?” Aries smiled but there was no barb to his words, only gentle teasing. It had taken a while for Caius to get used to it but he found he quite liked the easy camaraderie between them now. 

“So you say,” he snorted and lifted his glass to take a sip, certain the ruby color of the wine was staining his lips if the way Aries’ eye following the motion was any indication. “Are you alluding to something?” He couldn’t help but wonder if this was an invitation to his bed for the night, or perhaps a hint at inviting more into their little pocket of safety - something Caius would rather die than let happen.

“S’pose not, just an observation.” Aries hummed in response and the subject dropped there for the foreseeable future. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘𓅪∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Aries wasn’t entirely incorrect. Human company was good, though Caius could only truly tolerate the company of two people by design - Aries and his beloved mother. It’d been months since he’d been able to get away and spend time with her and the anxiety that brought him must have shown. He was restless, irritable, and bereft of any drive or goal. This attitude lasted several days before Aries finally pulled him aside, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear in that way that was so caring and so confusing to Caius. 

“Listen, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it’s clear something is festering under your skin. Go take care of it, the ruins are safe with me.” He promised and Caius was powerless to refuse. His mind tormented him in a way that was unique, a way only his mother could soothe, and so like a moth to a flame he drifted from the ruins and traveled far beyond the boundaries of Larkfield. 

He always knew how to find her despite the nature of her home; once their home. He walked along common roads and paths for days before slipping into a nondescript forest, a flash of rich cerulean cloth tied to a high branch the only indicator that he was in the correct place. He kept his steps quiet and measured, the glow of a large campfire finally breaking through the din of the dense forest and bringing a sense of comfort to his breast. Caius slipped through the treeline, hood high and steps sure, and came to stand beside several figures gathered around the beckoning fire. 

“Evening, gentlemen.” He spoke up during a lull of conversation, grinning beneath his cowl at the way each person jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“Lucien! Gods alive, you really have to stop doing that.” A brawny man covered from head to toe in various tattoos laughed loud and free from deep in his belly. He had missed that sound far more than he ever thought he would.

“Now where would the fun in that be?” He grinned and let his hood fall away just as the color of his hair and face drained away. He only felt comfortable dropping the facade here, among the people that had known him since birth. His once fair skin faded away to a pale slate gray and his hair stripped away to a brilliant white while the white of his eyes bled away to black. Where the enigmatic Caius had once been now stood a statuesque facsimile of a person with no remarkable features; a blank slate. 

“Is your mother expecting you?” A young woman spoke from across the fire, seemingly unperturbed by the eerie metamorphosis that had just taken place in the span of seconds. 

“No, thought I’d surprise her.” Once Caius, now Lucien, chuckled as they let their cloak fall away completely before rolling up the sleeves of their shirt to alleviate some of the heat from the fire. Streaks of shimmering gold littered their skin, long healed scars left behind from acts of hubris and bravery alike. 

“She’ll be delighted to see you, we set her up just beyond the cook’s cart.” A grizzled looking man spoke as he tossed a few twigs into the fire. “She’s not with anyone at the moment so you’re good.” He winked and Lucien could only smile fondly at the assurance. 

“Wonderful. I’ll catch up with you all later.” Lucien turned and made their way through the camp with a wave over their shoulder. They walked the line of various carts, each marked with a crude symbol to designate their purpose: the tattoo artist, the apothecary, the jeweler, a general shop, the cook, and the fortune teller. They stopped at this one, smiling at the indigo drapery dotted with constellations as they pushed past the beads in the doorway and found comfort in the way they clicked and clattered just as they had in their memories. 

“Ma?” They called before entering the main space of the cart, a smile breaking over their face at the sight of their mother gently sorting through a stack of cards. “Hi.” They whispered almost like a child, and somehow they always felt a little like one whenever they came home. 

“Lucien!” Their mother, Astrid, beamed from the little circle of cushions she’d been sitting in. She rose in a swirl of tassels, skirts, and wavy brown hair. Her arms instantly crushed them to her chest and her lips wasted no time in pressing to their temple. They melted into the embrace, the gnawing and rushing thoughts that had risen to a horrible crescendo of anxiety fading away with each inhale of her familiar scent. Incense and herbs and home.

“How have you been, my darling?” Astrid asked as she pulled away, one hand lingering on their shoulders as the other pinched their chin and turned their face this way and that. It was a familiar song and dance - Lucien pretended they weren’t routinely putting theirself in mortal danger and Astrid inspected them closely each time they returned to the caravan. 

“Fine, busy.” They finally tugged their chin away and led their mother back to the cushions. They urged her to sit before moving to the tiny stove where they put the kettle on to boil. 

“You’ve been busy since the day you were born, that doesn’t tell me anything.” She held up her empty cup when they turned and they took it from her to refill once the water was ready. “I heard about Sir Reinald.”

“Did you?” Lucien answered noncommittally and lifted a random tin of leaves to their nose. Their face scrunched at the scent and they hastily set it aside before grabbing another and repeating the action. 

“Mm, seems a little hero made sure his crimes were exposed to all of Larkfield.” They could sense the knowing smile she directed at their back. 

“Perhaps not a hero but a fool.” They muttered, pinching the leaves into the cups. It’d been a long time since they’d done a reading. 

“Oh, shush now. Doing what is right is never foolish, Lucien. I just hope they’re being careful and don’t get caught.” She raised her brow and they were instantly five years old, clutching a stolen trinket and wallowing in their mother’s disappointment. 

“I’m sure they are.” Lucien replied, watching the leaves swirl violently as they poured in the scalding water. “Rumor has it they have help now.” 

“Oh?” Astrid perked up, practically sitting on her knees, and they were reminded of how very young their mother was. She’d only been freshly in her fifteenth year when she gave birth to them, just a child herself and newly welcomed to this very band of merchants and performers. They’d grown together in a strange way and perhaps that was a large factor in how they’d found themselves considering their own mother as their dearest friend. 

“Mm. Word is they’ve met a brawler type, good with their hands and thus far loyal.” Lucien joined Astrid at the low table and set a cup in front of her while cradling their own between their palms, swiping their thumb over the chipped handle. 

“Thus far? Do they think he’ll betray them?” She wondered as she dropped a few cubes of sugar among the soggy leaves. Her dark eyes were too knowing, too piercing, and they were forced to look away and into their own drink. 

“People will always betray you,” They spoke to their own sepia reflection as Astrid dropped three cubes into their tea. “Ma don’t waste-” 

“Shush. Has this man given them any reason to suspect a betrayal?” She wondered as she stirred her drink with the tiniest spoon Lucien had ever seen, and yet somehow it looked perfectly in place in their mother’s dainty, manicured hands. 

“Not yet, but it will come.” They simply swirled the cup a few times before deeming it mixed enough to take a sip. They avoided their mother’s eyes until she tucked a finger beneath their chin and drew their gaze towards her. 

“Lucien, some people are simply good and you must let them be.” She smiled fondly as her thumb swiped at the corner of their pale lips, just over where they were bisected with a golden scar. “Do you consider me a traitor?”

“Of course not but you’re the exception, not the rule.” They shook their head and squeezed the cup between their palms. 

“Oh, my darling. I know the world has been cruel but it is not inherently so. You can’t turn your back on the good for fear of the bad.” 

“Am I meant to turn my back to the bad so it may stab me when I least expect?” 

Astrid groaned, clearly exasperated with a conversation they’d had many, many times before. 

“You know that is not what I’m saying, you’re being obtuse on purpose,” she chided and gently slapped their knee. Lucien couldn’t help but smile in the face of her fond frustration. “Stay vigilant, but stay kind. Kindness is not weakness, Lucien, I know you know this.” 

“I do,” they acquiesced and took a long, calming sip of the almost-too-sweet tea. “Their new ally… I have heard he is kind. He smiles often and with his whole heart.” They confessed, voice nearly a whisper. 

“And he’s good to them?” She asked, once again far too perceptive for her own good. 

“Far too kind. He is a fool who will someday find himself in a snare.” Lucien ran their thumb over the chipped handle again. 

“Then I hope the hero protects him. Family is important, whether it’s one you’re born into or one you build.” Astrid applied the slightest pressure to their knee, a reassuring squeeze that was both comfort and warning. “What do the leaves say?” 

Lucien drained the remaining liquid from the cup and set it on the crowded table in front of them, careful not to topple any of the stacks of cards. The dregs formed the vague shape of a kite, hovering just near the lip of the mug. 

“Quite the reading, hero.” Astrid smiled and they did not miss the way she tucked her own mug to the side, a clear shape of a cross settled at the bottom. 

Lucien had never put much stake in leaf readings anyway.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘𓅪∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Lucien didn’t stay long, just a single evening surrounded by family and friends from long ago. They all filled their bellies with food and drink and shared stories around the fire until the morning light crept through the thick canopy above. With the light of dawn they crept away to make their leave, effectively avoiding the discomfort of saying goodbye as most were now asleep. Shrugging on both the cloak and his identity, Caius returned to the ruins within a matter of days. 

Where he normally found comfort in the hollow echo of his steps down the winding stairs he found only unease. He could not hear Aries within the halls, could not hear the way his heavy steps or groans of frustration projected his presence, despite the lit torches that indicated he was here. There was no friendly greeting or immediate questions of his day, only a cloying silence that put Caius on edge. 

Slowly, he made his way towards their makeshift bedrooms, ignoring his own door for the one propped open beside it. He carefully nudged the wood to swing just a fraction of an inch, just enough so he could see inside, and the sight twisted his gut and had him swallowing a snarl. Aries sat beside his own bed, half asleep with a damp cloth in hand. A figure Caius did not know slept in the bed, too pale and too small. 

This time, he deliberately shoved the door to ensure it would squeak and announce his presence in the archway. Sure enough Aries lifted his head with a startle, alarm and guilt immediately evident in his eyes. Good. 

“Aries.” Caius lifted a brow and leaned his shoulder against the entryway with a calmness he did not feel. Barely contained rage rippled beneath his skin but he would at the very least allow his companion to explain himself, no matter how shoddy the excuse may prove to be. 

“Cai,” Aries spoke softly and rose from his chair. He spared a glance back at the figure sleeping on the bed and Caius sunk his nails into his own palms, only just stopping himself from grabbing Aries and demanding he look at him. He was the danger here, not the slumbering interloper. “Please let me explain.” He implored, warm hand coming to rest on Caius’ shoulder as he coaxed him out of the room. 

“Then explain.” Caius wasted no words as he crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. He had only allowed himself to be maneuvered just outside the door where they could offer the stranger a poor attempt at peace. 

“He was caught stealing in the market today. The guard thought they’d use him for their usual games,” Aries said the word with a sneer and it painted a vivid picture in Caius’ mind. He knew what cruel games the guards liked to play, the way they would beat and break and crush their captives beneath their heels. “He’s just a boy, Cai, I couldn’t leave him in the street and no one even took the time to look at him.” Gods damn Aries’ gentle, bleeding heart. 

Caius took a moment to assess the situation, closing his eyes and drawing in a number of slow and measured breaths. He lifted a hand and swiped it from his temples to his jaw, massaging pressure points all the way. 

“Cai?” Aries spoke softly, tenderly, in that way he usually reserved for when they were tangled in bed and he was trying to urge Caius to stay. 

“It’s fine. I understand why you did it.” He wasn’t sure if he would have made the same choice, and he hated himself a little for it. “How long has he been here?” 

“Since yesterday afternoon. He only woke up once but he was pretty out of it, they hit his head pretty hard.” Aries explained and Caius watched as his shoulders dropped and the crease between his brows lessened. It was good that he knew the severity of what he’d done. 

“And I assume you’ve been with him all the while. Go to my quarters and get some rest, I’ll take over.” Caius waved him away and took a step in the direction of Aries’ room only to halt at a gentle tug on his elbow. 

“You just got back, you need to rest too.” Aries insisted, the crease returning but this time in concern. 

“I’m fine.” Caius carefully removed the grasp around his arm. “I’m quite rested after my visit. Sleep, Aries. I can spare a few hours to tend to your impromptu patient.” 

Aries hesitated just a moment and Caius could see each thought, each doubt, flicker across his face before it settled into quiet resignation. 

“Alright, but come get me whenever you feel tired.” He only nodded before continuing into Aries’ quarters. Now that shock and anger were no longer waging a battle in his stomach he could take a long look at the boy in the bed. 

He couldn’t be more than sixteen, his skin bruised and sallow and his dark hair wiry and unkempt. His features were different and yet so similar Caius could almost see the ghost of an old friend in front of him and it brought him up short. He froze, hand hovering just above the boy’s brow. A tremble ran through his body before he blinked it away and snatched the cold cloth.

He turned his back to the bed and dipped the cloth in a basin of water beside the bed, squeezing the excess water with mechanical movements. He was grateful when he turned around and no longer saw a memory but a stranger. Gently, he set the cloth on the boy’s forehead and allowed himself to relax into the well-crafted chair beside the bed where he slowly relaxed, loose limbed and exhausted both emotionally and physically. 

Aries wouldn’t wake for several hours but when he entered the room Caius instantly glanced up. The boy was sitting up on the bed, picking at a platter of various different foods and sipping at a mug of tea. He looked better; color had returned to his cheeks and his various bandages were neat and clean. 

“Was I out long?” Aries asked, voice still rough with the remnants of sleep. 

“Not terribly, Thorn woke just a bit ago.” Caius replied, watching from the corner of his eye as the name brought a smile to the boy’s face. 

“Your name is Thorn?” Aries wondered as he came to stand just behind the wooden chair, his large palm resting against Caius’ shoulder naturally. With anyone else, he would have found it oppressive and annoying. He despised the way it felt like comfort. 

“It is now.” Caius answered when the boy seemed too shy, shrinking in on himself slightly. “Will you be alright if I speak with my friend for a moment?” 

Thorn nodded eagerly and shoved another piece of food in his mouth, though he was careful not to eat too quickly and risk upsetting his fragile stomach. Caius offered him the best smile he could and hoped it came across as comforting and approving. He stood and led Aries just outside the door to the very spot they’d stood hours ago. 

“He’s staying,” he announced with no preamble and ignored the way Aries’ eyebrows rose dramatically. “And so is anyone else that may need it. You were right, this space is empty, we could do with some company.” 

“Caius, are you serious?” Aries wondered and Caius couldn’t help but give a genuine smile at the hope in his voice. 

“I am. The world is cruel but that does not mean we have to be. We can provide safety and shelter to those who need it. Thorn has the makings of an excellent pickpocket, stole my own keys right out from under me when I was changing his bandages. We can give him a home and a place to hone his skills.” He shrugged as if his thought process was very simple. It sounded selfless in practice, far more selfless than he was capable of being, and that was because it was not. It would just be another means to an end, transactional as all things in life were. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was any better than the very people he killed.

“You’re doing a good thing, Cai. We can help a lot of people with this, a lot of people like us.” Aries gestured between the two of them and the door, “People cast out and forgotten by society, people othered in the eyes of the nobility or their peers.” 

“Emphasis on the we. You will be helping me, Aries.” Caius watched none of Aries’ excitement waver. 

“Of course I will be, we’re partners, hm?” 

“Yes, I suppose we are.”