#and the many scenarios that could fit to how they ended up on an ancient altar

[midnottart]

July's exclusive art for the Midnight Train members is online! • Nothing like a good carnal ritual to keep the seidr juices flowing...

[darkrpfinders]

[M4F] In search for a kindred spirit 🌹

... Let's try something different, shall we?

Aren't you tired of bland roleplays that only consist of one liners? Or extensive, tedious paragraphs of nothing? What about partners that suddenly ghost you without any reason?

If so, look no further!

Creative spurts come out of nowhere, and the one I had came in the form of a longing for a story that would inspire in me the same kind of passion and intrigue I felt from the books I read many years ago, and probably also because of my great passion for D&D and fiction in general. That tenderness mixed with the right dose of wonder that once filled my mind with endless daydreams, stories and characters... If you get what I'm talking about, you'll be a perfect roleplay partner!

In short, I'm mainly looking for someone to be a huge nerd with 😅

Think of it as a detailed, long-term roleplay with everything a story needs to be good, and filled with all those things dorks like me go crazy for, like being emotionally invested in fictional events or even giving characters musical themes!

The standard setting would be a high fantasy one in whichever place our characters would fit the most, but nothing says we can't play modern, sci-fi etc. Being it the classic scenario of enemies who constantly bicker but slowly grow fond of each other, an unlikely friendship that can either bloom into something more or end up in tragedy, or something as simple as a character being in love while the other remains hilariously oblivious, every kind of scenario and character dynamic is well accepted, no matter how tropey. As long as it will keep both of us affectioned to the characters and constantly wanting to see where the story will go, I will call that a wonderful experience~

Needless to say, the story will be pretty balanced, so rest assured, despite it being detailed and with a rich plot, it won't just be an endless LOTR book or a tame fairy tale. Manipulation, fights, betrayals... some strong emotion is always needed, and how else could there be that sweet, sweet drama if not? Plus... I might have a thing for Femme-fatale like characters, hypnosis, seduction and toxic manipulation 💖

Further information about the characters I have available, along with sheets and image references, can be discussed in private~

⚠️ Last thing to add, might be VERY important to know that I hate playing dominant roles 🤭

🌹

The man's steps echoed through the forest, each one causing the veil of dried twigs and leaves to crackle under his feet. It were hours, or maybe even days that he was wandering aimlessly in those woods in search for the ancient artifact, but until then it seemed like all he did was walking in circles. The tediousness of his task was almost driving him crazy, and he was constantly on the verge of giving up for good, but for better or for worse his determination dictated him to continue.

And then it happened. At first, it seemed almost like a mirage, likely given how thoroughly exhausted he was, but upon closer inspection the figure he saw moving amidst the foliage became more and more definite. From occasional glimpses of white and purple, he could then make out the outline of a body, a feminine one, and its erratic movements less and less dictated by chaos... It was a dance, performed by what would have been a normal woman hadn't it been for those long, luxurious white hair that elegantly flowed behind her and bounded with every step she took.

Awestruck, he walked closer without even considering what to say, such was his curiosity, but be it for distraction or a deliberate choice, once he was just a couple of feet from her, she suddenly twirled, making her silken locks swipe right across his face. Upon impact, a cloud of velvety rose petals wafted from it, and the combined effects of its silken softness and flowery fragrance made his eyes flutter.

From there, the world seemed to slow down

🌹

What else to say? If this sounds like what you're looking for, and you too want a story to remember, don't hesitate to hit me up~!✨

(Looking for 20+ writing partners, GMT+2)

.

[stankycowboy]

you can't lie to my face like that.

Severen swallowed hard. He'd tried at least, that much could be said, although in hindsight, maybe starting with an apology would have been best. After all, how was he supposed to know who the sword had belonged to? A lie he told himself. He had known by the scent aged into the leather whose it must have been. Curiosity had been his downfall, along with the persistent desire to explore more of her long, elusive past. The blade had not exactly been secreted away, though the ceremonial box and its accoutrement certainly had made it clear that disturbing it would come with consequences. Bold as he was insensitive, Severen had delved inside, inquisitive about the ancient sword and its wielder, the previous keeper of his lover's heart. It was hard to not feel some strange pang of jealousy for this unknown warrior, some elder, noble brute he had neither face, nor claim to match to title of "former husband". Lifting out the sword, he had to admire that whoever he was must have been abnormally strong, the weight even heavy by Severen's own standards. The heft, though egregious, was not unpleasant, well balanced despite the somewhat ridiculous size, and it almost seemed to beg to be swung, tiring of being in seclusion these many years it had been tucked away in hiding. Whirling it through the air, arcs cutting clean, the air whistling past the still sharpened edge, The Savage One got caught up in the act; feeling as though he could taste the blood that had once coated the metal edge, hands fitting well to the leather, the sword complimenting his bloodlust. It was because of this momentary fantasy he had not heard Lira approaching. In a panic, he replaced the blade respectfully in its resting place, though he had accidentally let the lid slam and had not remembered to replace the lock--more ornamental than anything-- back through the latch. In his flummoxed state the lie had come out first, not thinking, simply reflexive, regret coming instantaneously afterward. If her unamused expression were not bad enough, he could feel her eyes pulling from his own, moving toward the case he was determinedly ignoring. Were it possible Lira had not already pieced together the scenario at hand, she would in mere moments. Shit. He would have to own up and face the music, better to do so now than allow the tension to build further. "You're right, sorry, shit I uh..." he cleared his throat, rocked on his heels, more like a child who broke a cherished vase than an immortal being playing with something not his own. Severen tried again, head hanging as he buried his upper teeth into his lip. "I fuckin' opened the thing and..." he gestured broadly to the case with Roskov's heirloom blade, "messed with the...big guy's...sword..." He wondered which alleyway in Louisiana he would end up in tonight.

[sadprosed]

𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑶  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬   OF  MERMAIDS,  MASQUERADES  AND  MAGIC.

scenarios  inspired  by  various  settings,  encounters  &  magic  tucked  between  pages,  fashioned  by  the  author.  tw  for  drowning  mentions.

+   feel  free  to  change  pronouns  /  roles  !

MERMAIDS.

‘  beyond  the  winds  and  past  the  shores,  strange  magic  lurks  about.  ’

‘  will  you  go  to  the  lagoon  with  me  ?  it’s  unsafe  to  go  alone.  ’

‘  they  say  a  siren’s  call  alone  can  drown  a  man  before  she  swallows  him.  ’

‘  quick  !  cover  your  ears.  ’

‘  what  did  you  imagine  as  you  heard  the  song  ?  ’

‘  i  can  feel  a  voice  like  claws  sinking  beneath  my  skin.  ’

‘  one  can  pray  to  the  ocean,  but  the  waters  answer  in  strange  tongues.  ’

‘  careful,  or  we’ll  hit  the  reef.  ’

‘  the  sea-folk  are  flighty  as  their  fins,  and  illusive  as  shimmering  scales.  ’

‘  i  should  like  to  find  myself  a  sailor  fit  for  a  feast.  ’

‘  sometimes  i  wish  there  was  more  than  the  endless  waves.  ’

‘  do  you  see  that  ?  there,  beneath  the  surface  ?  ’

‘  that’s  no  fish,  and  no  woman  either.  ’

‘  what  lies  off  the  edge  of  the  map  ?  ’

‘  the  sea  has  monsters,  but  beauties  too.  ’

‘  i’ve  heard  that  merfolk  make  bargains,  and  trade  in  the  ocean’s  magic.  ’

‘  i’ve  never  seen  a  pearl  like  this  one.  ’

‘  the  ship  will  go  down  if  we  don’t  turn  about  !  ’

‘  what  is  that,  out  there  on  the  rocks  ?  ’

‘  won’t  you  listen  to  my  song  ?  ’

‘  mermaids  love  shiny  things.  keep  a  careful  eye  on  yours.  ’

‘  if  we  hide  in  the  kelp,  we  might  see  them  as  they  pass.  ’

‘  i’ve  heard  the  tales.  to  catch  you  means  to  gain  a  granted  wish.  ’

‘   i’ve  never  seen  your  likeness,  only  heard  the  myths.  ’

‘  come  with  me,  beneath  the  sea  and  foam,  and  be  mine.  ’

‘  some  of  us  live  in  the  ocean,  others  in  rivers  and  streams  and  even  trees.  ’

‘  falling  in  love  with  a  human  is  an  old  tale.  tell  me  a  new  one.  ’

‘  so  you  gave  up  your  fin  for  legs  ?  ’

‘  soon  i  will  be  nothing  but  seafoam.  ’

‘  what  is  a  heart,  but  an  ocean  of  secrets  ?  ’

‘  you’d  let  yourself  be  undone  and  remade  for  someone  you’ve  never  known.  that  is  not  love.  ’

‘  let  your  dreams  sink  to  the  depths.  they’ve  done  you  no  good.  ’

MASQUERADES.

‘  i’ve  never  seen  so  many  unfamiliar  faces.  ’

‘  he’s / she’s / they’ve  been  looking  at  me  all  evening.  ’

‘  would  you  do  me  the  honor  of  a  dance  ?  ’

‘  neither  of  us  need  know  the  other  tonight.  i  prefer  the  mystery.  ’

‘  your  choice  of  costume  is  rather  extravagant.  ’

‘  what  fun  would  it  be,  if  i  took  this  off  ?  ’

‘  i’m  certain  we’ve  met  before.  ’

‘  i’ve  always  longed  for  a  night  like  this.  it’s  something  out  of  a  dream.  ’

‘  won’t  you  come  away  with  me  ?  there’s  a  balcony  just  outside.  ’

‘  i’m  inclined  to  think  we’ve  never  met  before,  and  perhaps  will  never  meet  again  after  tonight.  ’

‘  you  look  like  you  know  how  to  waltz.  care  to  ?  ’

‘  i  must  stand  up  with  someone  this  evening,  and  i  don’t  see  why  it  can’t  be  you.  ’

‘  would  you  stop  staring  so  intently  ?  what  do  you  think  to  find  ?  ’

‘  i’ll  stop  bothering  you  if  you  agree  to  dance  with  me.  ’

‘  please  take  it  off.  i  want  to  see  you.  ’

‘  i’ve  never  been  to  a  masque  before.  ’

'  it  seems  our  attire  makes  opposites  of  us.  ’

‘  i’ve  never  seen  a  more  hideous  costume  than  that  one.  ’  

‘  i  can’t  stay  much  longer.  you  see,  i’m  not  supposed  to  be  here  at  all.  ’

‘  you’ll  never  know  who  i  am.  ’

‘  people  like  you  always  make  a  fool  of  me.  ’

‘  oh.  i  thought  you  were  someone  else.  ’

‘  i’ll  give  you  three  chances  to  guess  who  i  am.  ’

‘  the  next  time  i  offer  you  my  hand,  you’ll  get  more  than  a  dance  from  me.  ’

‘  i’ve  wanted  to  dance  beneath  stars  like  these  for  as  long  as  i  can  remember.  ’

‘  what  do  you  look  like  ?  ’

‘  that  look  in  your  eyes  tells  me  all  i  need  to  know.  ’

‘  you  won’t  like  what  you’ll  see.  ’

‘  i  recognize  your  voice.  ’

‘  you’ll  know  the  truth  before  the  night  is  up.  ’

‘  i’ve  heard  the  darkest  of  dances  are  the  best  for  falling  in  love  to.  ’

‘  you  don’t  know  it  now,  but  we’re  friends  already.  ’

‘  can’t  we  pretend  a  little  while  longer  ?  ’

‘  it’s  when  the  party  is  over  that  we  learn  to  know  each  other  most.  ’

‘  happily  ever  after  can’t  come  so  easily  as  a  single  night  dancing.  ’

MAGIC.

‘  i’ve  caught  you.  you  have  to  undo  the  spell  for  me  now.  ’

‘  think  carefully  before  asking  for  something  well  beyond  the  reach  of  mortal  power.  ’

‘  i  think  i  know  a  spell  for  that.  ’

‘  i  can’t  help  you.  but  there  are  people  in  other  worlds,  in  the  moors  and  hills  and  trees,  that  might.  ’

‘  you  must  gather  the  necessary  ingredients  for  such  a  potion.  ’

‘  true  love  is  never  the  answer  to  the  riddle.  not  when  so  much  as  life  and  death  is  at  stake.  ’

‘  i’ve  found  and  made  my  way  here  by  right.  you  can’t  deny  me  the  answers  i  seek.  ’

‘  be  warned:  monsters  hide  between  the  trees  and  whisper  in  magic  tongues.  ’

‘  it  always  makes  a  fraction  of  sense  to  be  careful  what  you  wish  for.  ’

‘  i’ve  been  turned  into  an  unsightly  creature,  and  i  need  a  way  of  turning  back.  ’

‘  not  all  magical  stories  happen  in  castles,  or  cottages  in  the  wood.  ’

‘  preposterous.  magic  and  sorcery  do  not  exist  but  in  the  minds  of  superstitious  fools.  ’

‘  get  back  from  that  cauldron  !  it’s  dangerous.  ’

‘  i  don’t  mess  with  things  like  candles  and  the  stars  and  the  moon  after  dark.  it  never  ends  well.  ’

‘  i  am  something  ancient.  my  name  has  been  forgotten  by  mortal  mouths  and  is  found  only  in  their  oldest  texts.  ’

‘  not  all  fairy  helpers  are  kind,  and  not  all  villains  are  ugly,  or  even  cruel.  ’

‘  if  you  want  my  help,  you  must  earn  it.  ’

‘  is  this  something  i  could  learn  ?  ’

‘  i  don’t  want  to  be  ordinary,  and  i  don’t  care  what  the  risks  are.  ’

‘  you  think  to  put  a  curse  on  me  ?  i  will  spend  my  life  defying  it.  ’

‘  stay  back,  witch,  and  keep  your  spells  from  sneaking  past  your  lips.  ’

‘  you  must  chain  a  magician  in  more  than  metal  or  rope  if  you  wish  to  stop  them.  ’

‘  that’s  a  parlor  trick.  show  me  real  magic.  ’

‘  only  you  can  break  the  spell.  it  is  something  you  are  meant  for.  ’

‘  fate  is  nothing  but  an  illusion  placed  in  our  heads,  that  we  might  follow  the  words  of others  and  not  our  own  intentions.  ’

‘  whatever  has  brought  me  here,  i  cannot  turn  back  now.  ’

‘  soon  the  clock  will  strike,  and  nothing  more  might  be  done.  ’  

‘  magic  requires  taking  in  order  to  give.  it  will  keep  demanding  parts  of  you.  ’

[barbarianprncess]

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”    

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

[komoreangel]

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 (𝐫𝐞𝐪)

pairings: scaramouche x fem!reader, childe x fem!reader

scenario: one of the fatui’s new recruits is too quick to act, and the consequences will be disastrous. 

request: Angst Idea: Scaramouche and Childe with a s/o who was killed by a new Fatui recruit, who thought she was an enemy? She isn't part of the Fatui, but she's just there to watch them

reply: i can already hear the hearts breaking,,, thank you anon :) 

scaramouche 

they told him there was no use trying to save you

some beginner mage had accidentally cursed you while trying to protect him

how were they supposed to know that it was one of the most ancient spells in all of the history of teyvat

originating from guizhong, goddess of dust

any victim of the curse would begin to break apart, and eventually they would fade away

the goddess was not cruel, and so made it a painless death

but is any death truly painless?

and so here you were, lying on a cot in his tent, withering to pieces before his eyes

"i don't want to go yet...i can't go yet."

you were gripping his shirt, tears staining your face

"there was so much i wanted to show you. the sakura forest. the..the waterfalls in jueyun."

you were practically spitting out any words you could think of, the fear overriding your ability to articulate your words

he could hear the fear in your voice

"i want to stay here, please, don't leave-"

you broke into a coughing fit

he couldn't stand seeing you like this

"i wanted things to stay like this forever. you and me."

this time he couldn't hold back his tears

this wasn't fair

what did he do to deserve this?

that was an easy question

but what did you do to deserve this?

and all because you chose to be with him

this was indirectly his fault

he clutched your head close to his chest

"i don't want to die."

your voice was barely a whisper in the wind

no, not yet

not yet

give it a minute

just one more minute

he wasn't ready

don't take her yet

he blinked back the burning in his eyes

and you were gone

the lover he had held in his arms so many times, with care that you'd think was impossible for someone like him was nothing but a memory

no body to bury

one of the medics came into the tent

"my lord, is everything alright?"

he stayed silent

he knew if he talked, his voice would break

waiting for them to leave felt like eternity

he closed the entrance and stared at your cot

as much as he wanted to he couldnt break down into tears

he hadn't experienced death before

most people usually felt sad

at least from what he'd heard

but the only thing he felt was an intense frustration

he should've been able to save you

you weren't supposed to go like that

he wanted to scream out, to shout, to kick something

should've, could've, would've

cant. couldnt.

without you he lost all regard for his own wellbeing

whether he lived or died no longer mattered

he was more reckless, and he who once looked at the world with interest, as if to see what it could give him, now gazed upon everyday life with a cold indifference

anyone could see that

it's safe to say he never loved anyone again

childe

his chest heaved up and down

he couldnt breathe

he couldnt see

it was like someone had taken a baseball bat to the world

as it fell apart like glass at his feet

you were in his arms

however, you weren't moving anymore

but that had to be impossible, right?

why would you stop moving?

it's the same as asking, why would the sun stop rising?

he was running

somewhere along the way you had stopped talking

but what had you been saying

something about...the sky

that couldn't be true, it was pitch black outside

you two had been on a date

he had come back to snezhnaya for the month

after being in liyue for days on end, it was easy to say that you missed him

he had planned the whole day out for you two

it was supposed to be perfect

'it was supposed to' isnt that what everyone says about death

wasnt supposed to, shouldnt have

they all describe it as an unfortunate accident

a mistake

and looking down at you thats what he wanted to believe in that moment

he wanted so desperately to believe he was dreaming

that any second now he'd wake up

but if life's taught him anything

it's that the world is all to fond of killing dreams

and when the ones who protected them aren't there anymore, what happens?

one of dottore's new assistants had mistaken you for an assassin when he handed you one of his knives to toy with

and as the tsaritsa trains her people to be quick and diligent...before he knew it, four daggers were sprouting from your chest

you fell into his arms, heavily breathing and your eyes focusing in and out

in the end, all it took was his bare hands

he supposed he should be appalled at that

you would've said something

he doesn't even know where he's going at this point

all his sense of reason has gone out the window, it left the moment you cried out in pain, the sound of a blade whizzing through a body all too familiar to him

the weight of what had happened suddenly too heavy, he sinks to his knees in the grass

he would pray, but to what god?

what god out there would give someone like him mercy?

it was like suddenly, the world had decided to take one of the few good things he had left

after you're gone, his family can tell that he doesn't care for anything that much anymore

he loves his family, of course he does

but simple things that used to make him smile dont anymore

some would even go so far as to say that the abyss had its hold on him again

he walks around, a husk of the person he used to be

lost in memories and broken promises

a/n: im just going to apologize because i am SO bad at writing angst like i have no clue what im doing lmao but i did try my best-

and i have one more request pending before i open them up again so <3 wooooo :D

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Kars' Character

Hello everyone! FYI I am not ignoring your requests. I have tried for a week to get them finished and I keep losing motivation. Then I had the brilliant idea of writing something else about an interesting topic and then I’ll be able to finish a few requests! Today’s post is another character analysis. This is still a multi-fandom blog; you will see content related to other shows besides Voltron. Today’s character analysis is on Kars, the 10,000-year-old vampire. That’s funny. He, Allura, and Coran are the same age!

Overview

I watched JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures about a month ago when I became frustrated that there were only 4 seasons of Hunter x Hunter on Netflix. Remember the scene in the election arc when the citizens were casting their votes for chairperson and Hisoka walked up with his arms forming an “S”? Many people were posing the question of it being a “JoJo’s” reference and for the life of me, I never understood what they were talking about. Finally, I watched the show for the first time and by season 2 I could understand what they were saying.

I have to admit that by the second episode I was bored because the nature of season one took place in the 1800s England and nothing exciting happened. Though I worked my way through a few more episodes. I noticed a creepy stone mask on the way and how it never fell unless blood was splattered on it. I concluded the mask was going to play the role of an antagonist or help the antagonist succeed. Although this post is about Kars, I would like to take a moment and say that Jonathan’s death was very heart wrenching and it made me angry. Jonathan was unnecessarily nice to Dio and living in a privileged bubble lead to his demise. Jonathan was stronger than Dio and he should have kicked his ass once and for all. Have you noticed that after Joseph’s father, all JoJo’s (at least until season 5) could beat the antagonist in the show?

Anyway, the mask is a key tool in the bizarre adventures that each protagonist experiences.

Kars is a 10,000-year-old vampire that designed the Stone Mask and is essentially responsible for the horrific events that have happened throughout history. Dio being turned into a merciless vampire and his minions resulted from the Stone Mask. After discovering that he and his people could not be out in the sun, he concluded he needed the Red Stone of Aja to complete his transformation. Lisa-Lisa, a 50-year-old human woman, has possession of the stone given by her foster father Straizo. Kars, along with the 3 remaining Pilar Men (Wamuu, Esidsi, and Santana, can only survive in the sun if they two wear the mask with the Red Stone of Aja. After awakening, it is quite clear that Kars is on a mission to retrieve the stone and will destroy anything in his way. He was the only one wanting to live a life outside of the darkness. This was the driving force of creating so many Stone Masks and later discovering the need for the Red Stone of Aja. Kars understood the mask would only work on him partially because of his larger skull size, aka body manipulation. This created an increase in hunger. The Pillar Men did not like this at all and sought to eliminate him so he could not ruin the flow of nature. Kars retaliated; he murdered 99% of his people only leaving his friend Esidsi, and two children known as Santana and Wamuu.

Kars’ character is very interesting. A dog was about to have its life ended because of drunk drivers. I don’t know if this struck a nerve in his soul, but Kars nearly cut off the driver’s head, causing them to crash their car and the puppy was saved. After being defeated by Joseph the first time, he landed at the end of a snowy cliff, making sure he did not land on a few daisies. Given these unique interactions with nature and secondary species, Kars has some vendetta against humans. What did they do to him or his people for him to care only about flowers and animals but want to wipe out Harmon users? He insists that Lisa-Lisa drink poison instead of fighting her. Fighting women is something he and Wamuu don’t take pleasure in doing. When I heard this for the first time, I didn’t know if that was something to be proud of or if he was being misogynistic (you know the stereotypical view society has about women). Even if he genuinely did not want to lay a finger on Lisa-Lisa or any woman, his intentions are very questionable. He mimics politeness. If Kars offered to pay for dinner or a drink, run. Just run because if you don’t, you’ll probably be turned into a vampire or be eaten alive.

This is off topic but I wanted to pose this scenario. After watching Battle Tendency for the 10th time, I always like to bring out the “soft” side in villains. Being a sucker for Fluff isn’t helpful. I know that’s defeating the purpose of villains and antagonists, but I can’t help and wonder how it would show in Kars. As I’ve previously stated, Kars seems to care for animals and plants more than humans...so there’s a soft spot somewhere in there. I had a rather amusing and odd thought involving Kars and Lisa-Lisa. Since Lisa-Lisa is the leader over Caesar and Joseph and Kars is the leader over the remain few Pillar Men, I can’t help but wonder how they’d react to each other. When Lisa-Lisa is ordered by Kars to stay at their hideout while Joseph retrieved the Stone, I know she didn’t stand there like a statue for nearly 12 hours. I imagine Kars offering a drink, water, or juice just to get her talking. I mean, she has to warm up to him or it’s going to be a horrible 12 hours. Then he’ll try to engage in conversation and will only try to flirt with her to see how she responds. He may make a comment about how clear her skin is, how perfect her makeup stays intact, or how her legs look better than his (well, duh, you’re 9,950 years older than her!). This way, he can exploit anything he deems as a weakness, but she is a smart woman. She would reveal nothing about her that could be used against her. As OOC as this seems, it could be something he’d do. Remember, he mimics politeness; he has a trick up his sleeve. Although that may be true, at the back of his mind, he really admires how young and enchanting she looks.

Although Esidsi, Wamuu, and Santana are Pillar Men, they are ancient humanoid superhuman beings who lived on the American continent. They have supernatural abilities that leave them invincible while the sun is down. They look similar to humans, but they are much bigger and muscular. Among the 3 remaining Pillar Men, I seem to gravitate to Kars than the others. Before you judge me, I’ll explain. Kars, like many male characters in this anime and others, has a unique character design. Contrary to popular belief, I like Kars better in his head wrap or while he is wearing his hat and cape. That outfit reminds me of a ghost/monster from the remastered Scooby-Doo series in the 70s. The one thing in particular that stood out to me was his eye shadow and mascara. The earrings didn’t surprise me as every time I draw my male characters, they automatically get a pair of earrings. While being physically fit, he can make ANYTHING look excellent!

Just like any villain, Kars and Joseph are equally arrogant and can exploit their opponent’s weaknesses against them. Making jokes about Lisa-Lisa while she is unconscious nearly sets him over the edge and while Kars thinks he has defeated Joseph, he is launched into space.

Last but not least, I noticed how the first two protagonists form an unusual bond with their enemies. As many of you have seen, Dio calls Jonathan JoJo but does not acknowledge Joseph or Jotaro in the same way. He does twice towards Jotaro but not after that. Kars refers to Joseph as JoJo and I have to believe that even if he knew his real name, he’d still refer to him as JoJo. Wamuu stated that fighting Jospeh was worth his time as he did not waste it and fight fairly. Throughout their battles, they somehow remind me of childish games with the name-calling and all. I wish Kars was not a “onetime” villain. I wish he could roll over to the next season. This is a preference, as I hate seasonal villains, like Chrollo Lucilfer or anyone similar.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading!

[solena2]

So.

Tommy isn’t Theseus. Every time I see Techno’s analogy about Tommy being Theseus brought up I’m filled with endless rage and I’ve DECIDED!

That it’s about time I explained just why it’s so objectively incorrect.

-

First: a bit of backstory on Theseus, because I doubt many of you actually know much about him beyond what Techno said in his “so you want to be a hero” speech, which left out a lot of relevant details.

Theseus was a demigod with two fathers and one mother. His fathers were king Aegeus of Athens and the sea god Poseidon, and his mother was Aethra, Aegeus’ wife. Aethra raised Theseus on her own, far from Athens to avoid him being assassinated.

Aegeus left him nothing but a sword with the Athenian crest and a pair of sandals, buried under a rock so no one else could get them.

When Theseus came of age, he took the sword and sandals and headed up to Athens, slaying various monsters along the way. (It pains me to abbreviate it that much, but Techno left out everything before the Minotaur so it won’t help me much in debunking his analogy.)

Once he got to Athens, he met up with his dad, chased out his stepmom Medea, (yes, that Medea) and killed some people. Then comes the relevant part.

Crete had won a war against Athens a while back, and because of this, every seven years Athens was forced to send 14 tributes to be killed by the Minotaur. (Yes, this inspired the Hunger Games)

Theseus decided he’d volunteer and kill the Minotaur, thus ending the tribute system for good and getting one over on Athens. He promised his dad that if he won, he’d come back in a ship with white sails, as opposed to the standard mourning black that signified the death of the tributes.

So he went to Crete, met king Minos and his daughters Ariadne and Phaedra, and got sent into the labyrinth. Ariadne gave him a magic ball of string that kept him from getting lost, allowing him to find the Minotaur and then safely get out afterwards, providing he could kill it.

He killed it, led his other 13 tributes out, and sailed back home. On the way, Athena told him to leave Ariadne stranded on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean, so he immediately did so, because Theseus was an asshole.

He got home, his dad committed suicide because Theseus forgot the white sails and his dad assumed he’d died, Theseus became king and married Phaedra, and then the fun began, because again, Theseus was an asshole.

First, he cheated on Phaedra with Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, so she left and took the kids. Next, he and his other asshole friend Pirithous decided to kidnap themselves some new wives. Theseus decided on Helen of Troy, who was a child at the time, and Pirithous decided on Persephone, which resulted in both him and Theseus getting stuck in the Underworld for a while due to pissing off Hades.

Once he got back up, he killed his son for fucking his wife, which is messed up on many levels, and then left Athens because his people were rightfully not super okay with that.

Then he goes and meets Lycomedes, who throws him off a cliff.

-

Next, let’s talk about Techno’s speech a bit.

He starts off by accusing Tommy of being a power hungry dictator (paraphrased), before asking him if he wants to be a hero.

Then, he provides what is apparently the archetypal example of heroism, something often associated with selflessness, kindness, and generally giving at least one singular solitary fuck about other people.

Theseus! Heroic hero who does heroic things, like, uhhh *checks notes* cheating on his wife, kidnapping children with plans to forcefully marry them, leaving people alone on tiny islands with no supplies, killing his kid, etc. etc...

So we’re off to a great start.

Then, he gives a short summary of Theseus’ life and times! He skips the first part of his life completely, which is hilarious to me because it’s the only time Theseus ever did anything actually heroic or selfless, and gets straight to the meat!

“Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus. His country was in danger, he sent himself forward! Into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur! And saved his city. You know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy.”

-Technoblade

So first off, he doesn’t mention... really anything other than the Minotaur and the exile, which is leaving out a lot of relevant details, like why Theseus was exiled. (You know, killing his son in cold blood?)

Second, he doesn’t give details in general. Not that he should’ve given a full telling, or anything, but I’m always surprised by the shortness of this speech when I go back and listen to it. He pretty much just gives the barest bones of an argument and expects his audience to take it at face value. (Which they do, but it’s still bad practice)

From the more accurate (if still brief) summary if Theseus’ life I’ve just given, I’m sure you can see why this might be more than a bit dubious, as an analogy. Given cc!Technoblade is literally an English major, and doubtless knows significantly more about the myth than I do, I’d imagine this was never intended to be taken at face value.

Over and over again, c!Techno proves himself to be an unreliable narrator, and over and over again, the fandom at large takes his word as gospel.

-

Now, as far as a more in depth argument for Tommy as Theseus goes, I will attempt to debunk that as well, because there are some genuinely good points to be made.

First of all, most people make Dream out to be the Minotaur. Given the time this speech was made, I imagine Schlatt was the intended target of that, but with latter events in mind, Dream does make much more sense.

I’d say this is honestly pretty fair, but I don’t think Tommy takes the role of Theseus in that narrative. I’d argue he’s much more analogous to the role of Ariadne, giving the tools required to defeat Dream but ultimately not doing so through his own power, but because someone chose to take those tools and make use of them. This also provides the very interesting characterization of Punz as Theseus, which is an incredibly unique take that I hope some a Punz enthusiast does something with, because I don’t know enough about his lore to make a good analysis on that.

The idea of Schlatt as the Minotaur, as was probably intended by Techno at the time, makes much more sense, though I still think other characters fit the role better. Firstly, Schlatt wasn’t killed, he died of a heart attack, and if someone had killed him I think it’s more likely to have been Wilbur or Techno who did it than Tommy, as Tommy was still very hopeful and idealistic at the time, at least compared to his character now. You could posit Tommy as Ariadne again in this situation, given he was the one to mastermind the final charge, and though I think Tommy as Ariadne is an idea that’s worth further exploration, I’d say Fundy futs the Ariadne role here much better, with him giving the spy’s diary before being effectively shunned and left out in the cold by both Pogtopia and Manburg, much like Ariadne was abandoned in the original myth.

I’d posit the Theseus in this scenario as Techno, Wilbur, or possibly Philza, as they were the ones to actually kill things in the 16th, though Techno and Wilbur’s killings were more in the metaphorical sense, taking the second life of L’manburg.

As for the exile, Tommy exile was alike to that of Theseus only in concept. Both were sent from their kingdoms for a crime, resulting in a falling out with someone close to them, and had a precarious relationship with heights while they were gone, but that’s about where the similarities end and even then they’re superficial.

First of all, Tommy’s exile was far more because Dream was looking for an excuse to do it than because briefing actually means anything on the SMP, given how Dream had been griefing bases and blaming Tommy for it for a while before it went down. (Fun fact, Bad and Skeppy were going to burn one of his discs over this, but one of them got sick so they had to cancel the stream.)

Theseus’ exile, on the other hand, was entirely deserved, especially when you consider how serious a crime killing family was in Ancient Greek culture. It was pretty much the biggest no-no in existence, and I’m almost surprised he wasn’t just straight up executed for it.

Second, Tommy’s falling out with Tubbo was almost entirely due to outside forces, (Dream) rather than because anything Tommy had done. Though Tommy’s cavalierness towards the trial and attempts to threaten Dream with Spirit doubtless didn’t help things, Dream surrounding L’manburg in obsidian walls and threatening them to exile Tommy was entirely his own choice, and not something that can be pinned on Tommy, no matter what the apologists may say.

Meanwhile, Theseus’ falling out with Phaedra had begun long before his exile with him cheating on her. Him killing his son was merely the last in a long line of dominos to completely destroy their relationship.

Last, Tommy nearly killing himself is very different from Theseus being pushed off a cliff. Tommy’s near suicide was the direct result of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of c!Dream for what was canonically, I believe, several months? (Correct me if I’m wrong on that one.) Tommy almost jumping off a pillar because he was deliberately isolated from his support systems is nothing like Theseus being killed because he was a cocky asshole who thought he was god.

-

So that’s why I don’t think Tommy is anything like Theseus, and why I’m filled with endless rage by the completely uncritical acceptance of this parallel, but it’s not the whole reason it pisses me off.

It also pisses me off because, as stated earlier, cc!Techno is an English major. He knew what he was doing with this. The fandom’s insistence on refusing to acknowledge his character as an unreliable narrator is, in my opinion, acting as a massive kneecap to what could be a great analysis of how he thinks.

Specifically: why does c!Technoblade think Tommy is like Theseus?

Of all the Greek heroes to pick, why that one? Was it just the tantalizing opportunity to parallel Schlatt with a horned monster, or was it because c!Techno has some genuine in-character reason to think this myth specifically applies to Tommy.

Now, we all know people in the SMP have a habit of analogizing Wilbur and Tommy. The assumption Tommy wanted to be president, the belief that Tommy nominated Tubbo directly, the belief that he was intentionally deceiving Techno about Pogtopia’s intentions regarding Manburg... all of these stem from Wilbur. There are more cases of this, of course, but several analyses have been done in the subject already, and this is long enough without more padding.

So why does Techno think Tommy is Theseus? Well, it’s simple, isn’t it?

Wilbur is Theseus.

To be continued, because this is already too long and my brain hurts.

[colossal-fallout]

Ad Victoriam

Finally got off my ass and started the fic I've been wanting to do for weeks. Maybe months? I'll be doing it chapter by chapter and eventually putting it up on Ao3.

I've made it GN as I want sole to be as relatable to you or your OC as possible.

Chapter I - warnings: None.

Chapter I

Arrival of the mechanical birds

The tangerine sunset always looked gorgeous from the Castle; the sparkling glimmers skipping over the restless sea, making it appear crisp and clean – disguising the usual sickly green hue of the salted waves. But the Minutemen weren’t able to take a moment to take in the beautiful daily view they were blessed with. The usual peaceful bliss they felt in their fortress this time of day was today filled with unease, anxiety and even a little fear among the less informed.

“General. Here they come.” Preston’s familiar voice muttered from close behind his leader.

The familiar tone that seemed a lot more welcome than usual. Preston had always been a great guide to Y/N, and more-so a great friend. And as their heart fluttered at the sight of the vertibirds in the distance, heading towards the ancient garrison, his voice helped hold the glue of their stoic expression as their men and women gathered outside of the main gate to greet the guests for the evening. Preston Garvey was their pillar of strength. Always there when they needed an extra pair of shoulders to unload some weight upon. And of course, the favour was always returned.

A chilled breeze whipped around the small gathering, all eyes up towards the old Boston airport across the shimmering sea – the giant, metal, killing machines looking a lot smaller than they were in reality as they made their journey.

Five. They think to themselves, arms behind their back. They would never allow themselves to show fear in front of their soldiers. Five of them. Why would he need five?

Their trust in Elder Maxson had recently begun to dwindle, due to a few reasons. Reasons they'd went over in the confines of their room over and over again. Planning every move for as many scenarios they could possibly think of. If this were a trap – they would be ready.

A whiff of cigarette smoke filled their nostrils, the disgust of the scent still not faltering their spine of steel stance as the ebony sheen of the metal birds grew bigger by the second.

“So, what’s the deal with this guy?” Hancock asks as he inhales his hit of nicotine, gold plated flip-lighter being tucked back into his crimson pocket with an equally coral colored hand. “How much time have you spent with him? What’s his vibe?”

“I’ve spent a decent amount with him.” They reply, eyes blinking but not moving from the airport. “I’ve worked under him for a while now. He trusts me.”

“But, do you trust him?” He gestures with his hand, pointing the smouldering end of his white stick towards the incoming cavalry. “Because I don’t think many here do.” His voice was lowered so only they and Preston could hear him. Hancock is smart. He read the situation pretty well.

“We’ll see.” Their tone is soft, quiet. Their mind ticking.

Preston glances between his General and the Ghoul. “Whatever the case, it’s too late to be speculating that now. I’m sure the General has thought of every possible outcome. After all, they didn’t bring us this far by throwing caution to the wind.”

Their perfect lips part slightly in a small laugh. “That’s exactly how I got us here.”

“Okay... bad example.” He shrugs, head dipping to the right as if shaking off unwanted information. “But... whatever you did, it’s working. So, I trust your judgment.”

“I don’t.” A third voice chimes in quietly, a lilt of light-heartedness in the tone. “They once dragged me to a museum saying it would be fun. ...Tha---t place had a Deathclaw nesting inside.”

MacCready held out his hand to Hancock without even setting eyes upon him. “But, they did get us out alive, I'll give them that.”

Hancock’s beady black eyes roll as he sinks his hand into the inside of his coat, pulling out his box of cigarettes'. “You know, a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ one of these days would be appreciated.”

“Well, I didn’t ask to be dragged to some old witchcraft creep-fest. So why would I say please and thanks?”

Hancock let’s out a gruff sigh of exasperation as he tucks his cardboard back inside. “Know what? No. No cigarette for you.”

MacCready’s broken nose crinkles. “What? Aw, c’mon! Was it something I said?”

The vertibirds were audible now; the droning hums that once filled the General with pride as they fought alongside their brothers and sisters, now transmuting into a strange dread.

“What the hell does he want?” Mac isn’t as good at hiding his unease as the rest of them, getting visibly agitated. “You know, I could take him out from the wall.”

“And have twelve to fifteen angry men in power Armour charge at us? Use your damn brain.” Preston scolds.

“I’m still a Paladin.” Y/N reminds them. “He’s still my Elder.”

“But, you’re a minuteman first, right?” Preston asks, large brown eyes pouring with his usual adorable innocence.

He’s answered with a single nod as the ground begins to vibrate; the five choppers now close enough to push Hancock to slap his hand over his hat to prevent it flying away; the strong gust of wind blowing the end of his cig off from the rest of the stick.

The landing gear deploys, a mechanical groan emitting from the machines as the engines switch off, all five of them landing in a small semi-circle around the group of gawping minutemen and their leaders.

The ground shakes as large and loud booms emit from the BoS soldiers leaping onto the soil in their robot-like suits; their faceless helmets instantly snapping to look at the group they’ve been ordered to greet.

“Paladin.” One nods to Y/N through his speaker.

They weren't sure who it was but it didn’t matter. From his armour, they knew his rank.

“Knight.” Was their reply with a curt nod as the Elder himself dismounts his personal ride; all eyes instantly gluing themselves to his stiff and proud form.

A Paladin followed – unknown identity thanks to his power armour.

“Ah Paladin.” Maxson’s authoritive voice greets as he makes his way up to the awestruck group – his eyes not once leaving Y/N's form. “I’m glad you agreed to this meeting. From what I hear, you’ve been making positive waves across the Commonwealth. I wanted to see what my underling was doing for myself. And even offer our assistance at ridding the filth that infests us.”

Underling. A power move already? They think as they remain stone-faced, falling into the salute of the Brotherhood.  “Elder. It’s an honour to have you at the Castle.”

Preston frowns at their words – gloved hands gripping his laser rifle a little tighter than intended.

“Like wise.” He returns the salute, his eyes looking... well, they couldn’t quite place their finger on it. It was a look they'd never seen from him before, yet still seemed like a familiar expression. At least from his tone, he seemed pleased. “My men here will remain outside. Only Paladin Danse will be accompanying me. I don’t want to... impose.”

“Danse?” Y/N blinks at the Paladin behind Maxson.

“L/N.” He replies with a nod.

“Ah yes. I thought it would be fitting to bring your sponsor along with us. You seem to work great together on the field.” Maxson smirks – y/n knew that was his usual smile. You’d never catch the Elder in a full-blown beam of happiness.

Y/N felt a lot better for a moment that Danse was with them. Then it came crashing down when they realised that man would run into hell for his Elder. Support from him if things went wrong probably wasn't on the cards.

“Okay, well then... shall we?” Y/N gestures towards the Castle that was now quickly falling into the shadow of twilight.

Maxon nods before turning to his small army. “Remember, we are guests here. On your best behaviour soldiers.”

A unison, robotic chant of “Yes sir!” chimed through the air before Maxson turned back to follow the General.

“It seems we have a lot to talk about.” He comments as they begin their stride.

Something in the way he said that fuelled the sense of dread that brewed deep within Y/N's stomach. Their instincts were usually right – and they were screaming that something wasn’t entirely how it seemed to be.

[crusherthedoctor]

Can you list anything you unironically like in the games (and cartoons and comics) that you don't like?

I won't bother mentioning music, since that goes without saying and is to be expected for a Sonic game... unless you're Chronicles.

Sonic Adventure 2 (mixed gameplay-wise, annoying story-wise) - While I prefer Sonic's SA1 levels for a number of reasons, I still think his and Shadow's gameplay in SA2 is fun on its own merit. I also don't mind the treasure hunting gameplay returning or how big the levels are this time around, since Knuckles and Rouge are still fast and not '06 levels of slow. It's mainly the gimped radar that creates the unfortunate domino effect of making them a problem.

- Introduced Rouge, one of my favourite characters for how playful she is and how she's a lot more nuanced and intelligent than you'd expect.

- Some genuinely good scenes, like Eggman's trap on the A.R.K and Sonic escaping from the G.U.N. helicopter.

- Had some good ideas going for it, like the Pyramid Base and the Biolizard as a scientific monster instead of an ancient one.

- Despite my thoughts on the backstory itself (or rather, its execution), Shadow has enough depth and subtle qualities and occasional unintended hilarity to stand out from the typical dark rival characters you see in media.

- The Last Scene's music in particular is one of my favourite cutscene tracks in the series.

Sonic Heroes (mixed gameplay-wise, loathed story-wise) - The gameplay is fun when you're not being screwed over by repetitive combat, overly long levels and/or ice physics.

- Boasts some of the most consistently Genesis-worthy environments in the 3D games, up there with SA1's and Colours'.

- The in-game dialogue that isn't the same tutorial drivel repeated ad nauseam can be interesting, funny, etc.

- Reintroduced the Chaotix, which provided me with another character I quite like in the form of Vector.

- Bringing Metal Sonic back in full force and front and center in the plot after a long absence (not counting cameos and the like) is a perfectly fine idea. Just... not like this.

Sonic Battle (decent yet repetitive gameplay, mixed story-wise) - Emerl's arc is compelling, and it earns the emotional weight of having to put him down at the end.

- While some characters are iffy (read: Amy), other characters are extremely well-handled. Shadow is probably the prime example.

- Gamma's belly dance healing animation is fucking hilarious.

- When I was young, and the game was first announced, I was really excited about being able to play as Chaos. This proved to be my downfall when it turned out he was arguably one of the worst characters in the game due to being slower than me during the writing process, but I still recall that excitement fondly.

Shadow the Hedgehog (comedy classic) - The sheer amount of legendary stupidity this game has going for it makes it practically impossible to actually hate. It helps that it's not quite as white-knighted on the same level as '06... usually. You know you're in for a unique experience when you hear a gunshot every time you click something in the menu.

- By extension, Black Doom never gained an unironic fanbase like Mephiles/Scourge/Eggman Nega did, which means I'm a lot more willing to take Doom's dumbass brand of villainy in stride. He even has a unique design... a terrible one that rips off Wizeman granted, but alas, even that is a step-up from Fridge Shadow and Bumblebee Eggman.

- Despite being... well, Shadow the Hedgehog, some of the environments would fit right in with any other Sonic game, like with Circus Park, Lava Shelter, and Digital Circuit. Even the Black Comet levels look pretty cool.

- This game understands amnesia better than IDW does.

Sonic '06 (what do you think?) - The obvious one: Shadow's character was handled pretty well, even if it came at the cost of everyone else being a dummy and being forced to interact with Mephiles.

- Like SA2, there are some good moments, like the Last Story ending sequence with Sonic and Elise.

- In the greatest form of irony ever, I like Solaris as a concept and design(s), and its backstory has potential to serve as a parallel with Chaos without being a complete ripoff. Iblis sucks, Mephiles sucks, but I'm fine with Solaris.

- Introduced legendary characters like Sonic Man, Pele the Beloved Dog, Hatsun the Pigeon, and Pacha from The Emperor's New Groove.

The Rivals duology (apathetic outside of Nega-related grumbling) - There were some cool zone ideas in both games that were sadly let down by the restrictive and limiting gameplay. I particularly like Colosseum Highway for thus far being the only full-on Roman level in the series instead of merely having a couple minor hints of Roman, and Meteor Base for the unique scenario of the space station being built into an asteroid. These level concepts and others deserve a second chance IMO. (At least Frontier Canyon got a second chance in the form of Mirage Saloon, amirite?)

- Ifrit has a better design than Iblis. Not saying it's amazing, but the Firebird motif it has going on is a lot more interesting for a fire monster than the Not-Chaos schtick they had with Iblis.

Sonic and the Secret Rings (a very frustrating gaming experience) - Erazor Djinn, A.K.A. Qui-Gon Djinn, A.K.A. Dr. N. Djinn, A.K.A. I'll Take It On The Djinn, A.K.A. Not From The Hairs On My Djinny Djinn Djinn, is one of the best villains not associated with Eggman in the series. He's a Mephiles-type character done right, and there's actual weight and reason to his actions, however sinister or petty.

- I don't have strong opinions either way on Shahra as a character, but the Sonic/Shahra friendship is sweet and well-handled.

- The ending is one of Sonic's greatest moments. The sheer contrast between how ruthlessly he deals with Erazor and how comforting he is towards Shahra speaks volumes... Still gonna make fun of the mountain of handkerchiefs though. (Before anyone lectures me, I understand the significance of it and can even appreciate it from that angle... doesn't mean I'm not allowed to poke fun at it. :P)

- Another game with some redeeming environments. I love the aesthetic of Night Palace, and Sand Oasis looks gorgeous too.

Sonic Chronicles (my personal least favourite game in the series) - Uh...

- Um...

- Er...

- I like Shade's design?

Sonic Unleashed (overrated game and story IMO) - The obvious two: the opening sequence and the Egg Dragoon fight deserve all the praise they get.

- Seeing Eggmanland come to life was an impressive moment to be sure. While part of me does feel it didn't quite measure up to what I had in mind (ironically, the Interstellar Amusement Park ended up being closer to what I had in mind), it still looks badass and works well for what it is. I also don't mind the idea of it being a one-level gauntlet... key word being idea.

- Obviously, the game looks great. Not a fan of the real world focus (real world inspiration is fine, but copy-pasting the real world and shoving loops in it is just unimaginative), but it can't be denied that the environments look good.

- This game pulled off dialogue options a lot better than Chronicles did, since they didn't rely on making Sonic OoC.

Sonic and the Black Knight (just kind of boring all around) - Despite my gripes with the story (Merlina wasn't nearly as fleshed out as her unique anti-villain status deserved, which ends up severely undermining the ambition of the plot in more ways than one, and the other characters go from being useless yes men for King Arthur to being useless yes men for Sonic), I will admit it provides interesting insight into Sonic's character.

- Like '06 and Secret Rings, the ending is very nice... well, aside from Amy being an unreasonable bitch ala Sonic X at the very end.

Sonic the Hedgehog 4 (apathetic) - The admittedly few new concepts sprinkled within had promise. They may not have been as fleshed out as they could have been, but level concepts like Sylvania Castle and White Park, bosses like Egg Serpentleaf and the Egg Heart, and story beats like the Death Egg mk.II being powered by Little Planet, all could have been brilliant had they been better executed.

SatAM (apathetic outside of SatAM Robotnik-related grumbling) - I'm not a fan of the environments on the whole due to them looking too bland or samey, but there are some exceptions that look pleasant or interesting, like the Void.

Sonic Underground (apathetic) - The character designs make me feel better about myself.

- Does "large quantities of unintentional meme material" count as a positive?

Sonic X (mostly apathetic outside of Eggman's handling) - Helen was a better human character and audience surrogate in her one focus episode than Chris was throughout his entire runtime.

- Actually, most of the human characters not named Chris were legitimately likable. Including everyone in Chris' own family not named Chris. Hilarious.

- Despite arguably having the most Chris in it, I actually don't mind the first season that much, partly due to slight nostalgia from seeing it on TV when it was new, but mostly because Eggman actually acted like a villain for the most part, and certain other characters weren't quite as flanderized yet. It's season 2 and onwards where things started going off the rails IMO. (Incidentally, Helen's episode was part of season 1...)

The Boom franchise (apathetic) - Along with Chronicles, the games provide yet more proof that just because someone isn't SEGA/Sonic Team, that doesn't mean they're automatically more qualified to handle the series.

- The show had some good episodes here and there, and Tails' characterization was probably the most consistently on-point out of the cast.

- Despite not exactly being favourite portrayals for either character, even I'll admit that many of Knuckles and Eggman's lines in the show on their own were genuinely funny.

Archie Sonic (pre-reboot is mostly terrible, post-reboot is mostly... bland) - Whenever I doubt myself as a writer, I think back to Ken Penders, and suddenly I'm filled with a lot more confidence.

Sonic the Comic (apathetic) - Fleetway isn't a comic I tend to recall much of aside from how much of a loathesome cunt Sonic is, but IIRC, Robotnik's portrayal is pretty good. Different, but good.

IDW Sonic (stop pissing me off, comic) - Putting their handling aside (and being too obviously "inspired" by MGS in the latter's case), Tangle and Whisper are good characters IMO.

- Same goes for Starline, before he was killed off-screen and replaced with Toothpaste Snively.

- Execution aside (noticing a pattern?), the zombot virus was a fine concept on its own and an interesting new scheme for Eggman.

- I get to remind myself that I've never drawn scat edits and posted them publicly on Twitter.

[shatouto]

another sequel to @obiwanobi's ex-sith anakin au (here and here), and at this rate… yea. yea we’re gonna have to archive this on ao3 (soon)

anyway here’s 2.8k words of tonal inconsistency

et si les étoiles sont cachées

Obi-Wan barely sleeps a wink through the night. His mind turns and whirls as he battles between second-guessing his decisions regarding the former Sith sleeping in his bed and planning on what to do going forward. Anakin knows how to cloak his own signature well enough, that much Obi-Wan can observe, but he will not stand a chance if Masters such as Yoda or Windu search his presence. And then there is the matter of the elusive Darth Sidious’ death, as well - Obi-Wan can only assume that it would be classified information on the Confederacy side, but even then, the Force only knows what kind of hell would break loose once his body is discovered. It doesn’t help that he could barely pull his hand out of Anakin’s without him frowning in his sleep and stirring. He simply has to stay put, with Anakin’s very likely feverish body pressed up against his side in a bed that is only snugly enough for two.

In meditating all of those scenarios, he forgets to account for the hell that breaks loose in his own quarters upon the return of his apprentice.

“Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert.

“He was an injured man who crawled to my doorstep for aid, young one.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Surely you cannot expect me to simply turn my back to him, can you? That wouldn’t be the Jedi way.”

“Yes, but…” Ahsoka pinches her own forehead, shoulders dropping in a harsh exhale. “He’s a Sith lord, Master. We’ve all seen what he has done and can do!”

“He was a Sith, Ahsoka. Leading him back to the Light means one less darksider for the galaxy, and no more lives lost. I have always been trying to accomplish this.” Obi-Wan realizes, all of a sudden, that he is trying to convince himself rather than his apprentice. “He came in a moment of need, with nowhere else to go. He no longer wants to remain with the Dark.”

Ahsoka blinks. “And you just trust him? Just like that?”

Well, Obi-Wan wants to say, you didn’t see him on his knees in the hallway with blood covering half his body and bruises the other half; and you didn’t see him hang his head as you took his lightsaber and then his ruined arm off before setting him to bed. Then again, nobody would ever see that: the exact devastation and distress the once-Darth Vader was in last night, at his door. “That is the case, Ahsoka. I would like to trust him, for the time being.”

Ahsoka grumbles something about tried to kill me earlier, didn’t you see that? which of course inspires a twinge of guilt in Obi-Wan - because indeed, this borders on being a foolhardy venture, that his Padawan is dragged into solely by virtue of her sharing quarters with him. She shakes her head and speaks clearly again for him to hear. “...Fine, I get it. Where do you even plan to house him, Master?”

Obi-Wan pauses. He has had plenty of time in the night to consider this, and still he cannot find any better solution than the one he is about to suggest. “I suppose there is no place safer than here.”

“Here? You mean as in, your own quarters, in the Jedi Temple?” Ahsoka stresses on the last few words, incredulous.

Something crashes inside his room, followed by Anakin’s muffled curse. Obi-Wan looks his apprentice dead in the eye as he lets out a sigh, and says, “Yes.”

—

Anakin is strangely good at cooking.

Obi-Wan supposes he shouldn’t have presumed; after all, being a Sith apprentice should probably not interfere with the more mundane aspects of life. But not only is Anakin’s cooking distinctly above average (how did he learn enough skills to make a three-course meal out of the few basic ingredients in Obi-Wan’s pantry, and at what cost?), he also seems to undertake the task with zeal. It’s rather endearing to watch him shuffle around the kitchenette in warm beige pants that barely reach his ankles, and a left sleeve that doesn't need to be rolled up because it's already too short for his long arm.

It’s been less than a week since Anakin first comes to his door. He clearly doesn't like Ahsoka, but with one arm and no lightsaber and Obi-Wan firmly telling him to behave, he eventually, and clearly grudgingly, tolerates her presence, from time to time. The gleam in his eyes is still worrying, from time to time, but the most Anakin does nowadays when Ahsoka passes by is turn his back to her. He seems to be trying his best, which is why Obi-Wan feels immensely guilty for having to preface their meal with a rather somber question.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, as Anakin sets down before him a plate of steak that smells nearly the same as that one luxurious dish he once had while in disguise as a socialite at a prestigious fine dining party. It isn’t the materiality that is distracting, but the efforts that must have gone into it. “I would like to ask you a question.”

Anakin sits down opposite of him, balancing himself. Even with the Force, he’s unused to not having a weight elbow-down on his right hand. “What? Leftover is in the kitchen for your apprentice. If she wants it.” His voice still sharpens at your apprentice, defensive. “I didn’t mean to let her starve.”

Obi-Wan is torn between a smile and a grimace. “No, that isn’t my question, Anakin. I’ve been wondering if you knew of your allies’ plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Anakin’s eyes narrow, warily. “It depends. Dooku knew most. I just did battlefield strategy.”

“You don’t happen to know if there has been recent plans to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor, do you?” It has been on Obi-Wan’s mind ever since he was summoned to an urgent Council meeting days ago. Investigative teams reported that the Supreme Chancellor has gone missing; then midway through the meeting, another report came, and so they ended up discussing how to keep peace while the Senate would break the staggering news of the Supreme Chancellor’s death to the entire galaxy and organize an emergency election. The timing fit too well with Anakin’s arrival, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Oh, there’s never any.” Anakin shrugs, tension melting out of his shoulder. He begins to cut into his steak without a care.

Obi-Wan frowns. There has been plenty of attempted assassinations before, as well as kidnapping - he himself has been sent to protect the Chancellor on many occasions. He’s loath to contradict Anakin, though, so he asks, carefully: “And you are sure?”

“I’m sure,” Anakin says, swallowing a mouthful. “My mas—Darth Sidious, is Palpatine.”

It takes Obi-Wan a stunned moment, while Anakin just continues to eat.

Well, the Council had their suspicions, but it was never so direct. Some have speculated, very privately, that the Chancellor might be linked to a darksider in some way. Perhaps somebody who is in opposition to Count Dooku, another Master has raised. But for the Chancellor *himself* to be this elusive, mysterious Darth Sidious, seems downright unfathomable.

“You…” Obi-Wan pauses, rewording the sentence in his mind for the seventh time. “I would like you to be serious, Anakin. That was not a joke, was it?”

Anakin, unsmiling, turns his eyes up to him with a look of confusion as if saying What’s a joke? “Darth Sidious is Palpatine,” he repeats. “I’m not allowed—I was not allowed to call him that, though.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. The timing does line up far too well. “Anakin, that means you have... disposed of the Supreme Chancellor.”

Anakin scoffs, scrunches up his nose, and shrugs again. “If you put it that way,” he mutters, slouching down even lower as he pointedly eats his food.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sighs at the ceiling, and picks up his fork and knife. Might as well enjoy a good meal before the migraine sets in.

—

To his own amazement, Obi-Wan is getting used to the way Anakin follows him around like a hatchling, whenever he is home.

During the first few days, it took Obi-Wan a considerable amount of patient explanation to convince Anakin not to sit on the floor at the foot of the door frame until he came back. His reasons ranged from “It’s rather undignified for you” (to which Anakin said, “I’ve done worse,” at which point Obi-Wan had to switch subjects immediately, putting a pin in it for future unpacking), to “You might catch a cold, sitting here for so long” (to which Anakin answered, “It’ll go away on its own,” which prompted Obi-Wan to check his temperature immediately, only to realize that Anakin had been cloaking his fever for at least a day, and - well, that was another pin on the board). In the end, it was only the allowance for him to use the kitchenette that kept the former Sith from waiting at the door like a hound, rather busying himself at the stove instead. It was a great decision through and through, considering how much Anakin improved the quality of their meals.

But otherwise, Anakin still makes no secret of his immediate attachment to him. Perhaps there should be no surprise in that, considering the sort of upbringing he must have suffered through; not that Obi-Wan knows much of it anyway, considering how quiet Anakin remains and how reluctant he himself is to ask personal questions. Nevertheless, from the way Anakin acted - finding his way into the Jedi Temple and declaring his trust to a sworn enemy rather than relying on his own Sith allies - it isn’t hard to infer that this man has had precious little reason to put his trust into anybody in his surroundings. It also aligns with the Sith ways, Obi-Wan speculates - and could only dare speculate, because truth be told he does not know all that much of the Sith outside of his research on ancient texts. Contemporary Sith are few. The Master might just make his own rules, and Darth Sidious - the Supreme Chancellor, Force have mercy - seemed like the type to play cruel games. So he has every reason to understand and empathize. And he truly does extend his most heartfelt compassion to this wayward Force-wielder.

That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with Anakin’s irritability whenever Obi-Wan comes back from a mission.

He’s clearly unhappy about Obi-Wan being away, especially if he discovers that the mission has been with Ahsoka. He only grows more upset and quick-tempered as time goes by; it begins with him upturning the decorative datapad shelves in the living room, escalating to a series of broken glasses and plates in the kitchenette; finally one day Obi-Wan comes back home to knives lodged in the wall, Anakin in the midst of pulling them out.

Anakin has the decency to look sheepish, even just slightly, as he silently puts away all the knives and hides himself in the kitchen completely. He cleans up, at least. In fact, he was almost always in the middle of cleaning up when Obi-Wan caught him in the act, which prompts the question: How many other times has he done this while left alone?

Obi-Wan only sighs. It does border on cruelty to keep somebody alone in these cramped quarters for weeks on end. He also knows that whatever measures he has set up to keep Anakin safe here - from the world, and from Anakin himself, - it would be a fatal oversight to underestimate the ability of a former Sith. He has no doubts that Anakin, even while one-handed and saber-less, could escape if he truly wanted to. The fact that Anakin willingly keeps himself stowed away in a Jedi’s quarters while desperately and entertaining himself through destructive means only to then be embarrassed about it… is a testament to some budding virtue, Obi-Wan supposes. And it only intensifies his guilt: it’s as if he’s taking advantage of Anakin’s trust to confine him to solitude, while he himself pushes back and back the kind of work a true mentor would need to engage in to help Anakin. The fact that he is fighting a war, or whatever is left of it, is no excuse.

It is with resolution that he stands up and heads into the kitchen. Their eyes meet as soon as he steps in; clearly enough, Anakin has been watching him. Anakin’s fingers grip the counter, knuckles blanched. Obi-Wan holds up his hands, moving as slowly and unpredictably as possible, and cuts to the chase.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go outside, Anakin.”

Anakin’s brows shoot up, but he still doesn’t unclench his jaws.

“I believe it’s rather unfair to keep you locked inside,” Obi-Wan explains. “After all, cooking can only do so much to spend all of one’s pent up energy.” He gives a small, gentle smile, inwardly anxious because of the way Anakin still looks at him with his guards up, shoulders squared, halfway between fight and flight. “I am not suggesting anything much, Anakin. Only a walk in the park, if it suits you. The decision is up to you.”

A moment or two passes in thick, awkward silence. Then Anakin, hesitantly: “Will you be there?”

It’s the first pleasant surprise Obi-Wan has had in what felt like an age. His smile grows, unbidden. “Yes, I insist.”

—

Autumn winds reel through his hair before rushing off to rustle in the foliage. The nightly air is crisp on his cheeks, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even think to tighten his robes around him; he enjoys a nice, chilly evening. Silence is alleviated by the song of insects in the grass, as they make their way down the serpentine path, round fountains and beds of flowers. Their robes flutter, and their hands are firmly linked.

It’s nothing that cannot be explained by strict necessity, or so Obi-Wan reasons: He must be able to make sure Anakin never strays from his sight, for safety reasons; and he dislikes the thought of putting any kind of binding or chains or even just a simple tied thread on Anakin. As usual, when all else fails, undertaking by hand is the solution - hence Anakin’s hand in his own, their palms warmly interfacing, their calluses fitting together.

The contact is also enjoyable, but that’s beside the point.

“I like the sky at night,” Anakin says, sudden but quiet. Obi-Wan glances at him to find Anakin not looking back at him for once. Anakin’s hood has long since slipped off because of the way he tips his head back to turn his eyes to the stars. Most of them are shrouded by gathering clouds, but some of them still shine through the dark.

“I see,” Obi-Wan muses. “May I ask why?”

For once, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I like to look at the stars. They’re just suns, but far away. Can’t burn you, only blink at you.” Anakin’s hand tightens just a little. A patch of wildflowers gently glows when the two of them pass by. “When you blink back at them, you’re not alone.”

“And what if the stars are hidden?” Obi-Wan gestures, voice light, even as his heart sinks. He knows a lonely child, or one who used to be a lonely child, when he sees one. “What do you do then?”

The sigh that follows is lost in a gust of wind. There’s only the slightest of tremors in Anakin’s fingertips. They fall back into silence, deeper silence this time, as even the insects seem to quiet. The air feels earthy and damp with a coming rain. The sky blackens as clouds roil and thicken, and suddenly it’s dark as pitch and the comfortable coolness splinters into shivers under his skin. When the first drop falls, Obi-Wan reaches over to draw up Anakin’s hood for him. Anakin turns to him, eyes downcast.

“Then I’m alone,” he answers, belated and small.

—

“Maybe you’re right, Master.” Ahsoka picks up her steaming mug of tea, sinking comfortably into her amply cushioned seat on the couch. A strip of morning sunlight draws lazily across the room. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. He’s getting... nicer, lately. You should keep walking him.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at the turn of phrase. Walking him… “I don’t think it’s my doing,” he says, pouring a little more tea for himself. Anakin shuffles from one corner of the kitchenette to another, apron strings fluttering behind him. Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes a sip of tea, smiling. “I don’t think it’s my doing at all.”

[brynwrites]

Plot progression: points, twists, and hinges.

(And why hinges rock.)

Please excuse me while I assign already well-loved terms new meanings for my own benefit. (This is to say, writing terminology means something slightly different or goes by slightly different terms depending on who you ask. Two of the definitions I use here are based ones that stuck with me, while the third is something I pulled right out of my backside because it didn’t quite fit with my acquired definitions of the other two. Other terms and definitions are equally valid; I’m just using these ones until I figure out how to telepathically funnel wordless concepts.)

First let’s get basic: What’s a plot anyway? Tis a bunch of things that happen to move your character toward something. Usually this something is a goal. Win the war. Find the killer. Survive the winter. Get through the wedding. Kill the dragon.

Plots (should) have important scenes within them which propel them along. A full book that’s just a knight walking on a path for twenty-five chapters thinking about killing a dragon and then finally reaching the dragon to do so it boring. A book about a knight facing random trials that have nothing to do with the dragon she’s set out to kill is more interesting then walking. But the most engaging version of this plot would be if each trial she faced was connected to the dragon killing in some way.

We could, if we wanted to, label each of these trials with terms like plot point, a plot twist, or a plot hinge, depending on how they interact with the story as a whole. (Now I have to define what each of these terms mean to me. I set myself up here, didn’t I?)

We probably all know what a plot twist is. A big reveal. A shocking conclusion. A revelation that puts the whole story into a new light. (Luke, I am your father!)

Most writers will describe a plot point as some version of ‘an event which progresses the plot.’ This is all fine and dandy until you have to decide what counts as progress and how much of it you need for something to genuinely be a plot point. For the sake of this article, I’m going to call it anything that has a noticeable effect on either the ultimate or immediate goal of the story.

A plot hinge is a type of plot point. It can also include a plot twist. But not all plot twists or plot points are plot hinges, because a hinge actively swings the plot in a new direction. It takes the goal the story is set upon, and it rattles that mother-fork until its eyes pop out.

Let’s have some examples, shall we?

A knight is crossing a mountain on her way to slay a dragon.

While at the mountain, she fights a random dwarf. It’s a nice action bit where she’s in peril a few times and at the end, she kills the dwarf and continues down the other side of the mountain. A real page turner. (Spoilers: it’s probably, actually, not.) It’s also not a plot point (or, a plot anything), because the entire segment could have been cut without anything else changing. This whole scenario has no effect on what the plot’s current goal is, how it’s being accomplished, or how we perceive it.

If instead, while at the mountain, our valiant knight fights a dwarf with ancient knowledge on forging dragon-killing weaponry and convinces him to forge her a dragon-killing sword that ends up being the only reason she can kill the dragon at all, then you have what’s purely a plot point. The goal of the plot hasn’t been altered, nor our perception of it, but we’ve taken an irremovable step towards accomplishing it.

If instead, while at the mountain, our valiant knight uncovers ancient knowledge that reveals the villainous dragon is actually part of a much larger system of dragons with magical human form, and her own mother was secretly a dragon, giving her dragon blood of her own, this is purely a plot twist. The goal of the plot hasn’t changed, and we’re not closer to having killed the dragon, but our perception of the plot, how our main character fits within it, and what it should mean to us as readers, has been altered.

Pretty basic, yes?

Now imagine that those two things both happen while our knight is at the mountain, but as she’s leaving, the dragon she’s been riding out to face finds her. They battle. Barely prepared, our knight is losing terribly. She tries to flee, making it to the nearest town before the dragon finds her. In order to lay him low, his must use both her dwarfish weapon and her secret dragon powers. The town sees this, and decides she, too, is the enemy. A town guard steals her dragon-killing sword and tries to slay her with it. In a moment of compassion, the dragon she nearly killed helps her escape the town, but every knight our valiant half-dragon once fought alongside now sees her as a monster. And they’re coming for her.

This is a plot hinge. We just flipped out perception of the plot, tackled and crashed right through our main goal, and opened the doors for a new goal that’s still adjacent to our original one (and might still lead back to it by the end of the book—who knows, the villainous dragon might still need to be killed after all).

The trick with plot hinges, is the throw the reader for just enough of a loop to make the story fresh and interesting, without letting them question why the story before and after the plot hinge aren’t separate books. For a plot hinge to work, the plot must be pushed without being torn off the hinges. The old goal can’t be left dangling, limp with unfulfilled promise, and the new goal must build off everything the book has already established.

When done well, though, a plot hinge can turn a “this is enjoyable!” story into one that makes readers go “oh god, please read this, I NEED someone to scream at, I’m literally dying.”

I’m not going to tell you how many of these you should have in any given story. I’m not even going to tell you that you need to have any of them. (That would be hypocritical, as not all of my own stories do. Some are pulled along by simply plot points and twists, and they’re still perfectly enjoyable, if I do say so myself.)

You can also slip plot hinges into side plots, and make cases for what constitutes a hinge in character development. And at the end of the day, there’s a hundred different ways to build tension into a story and engage the reader. This is just the one I’m having fun identifying and analyzing at the moment.

And I hope you can set out and have fun with it to.

(Also, call it by my personal terminology. Pretend I, and I alone, invented a brand-new kind of plot point. Buy my book. Ascend me to godhood. Rebel and kill god-me to take back the world for humanity. Something like that.)

[illfoandillfie]

please give me Anything himbo roger i need this like perhaps... him being obsessed with eating pussy? pls? - cloud anon

I’m so so so glad you requested more himbo rog because i love any excuse to write him lmao. This is a bit of a long one, certainly well over blurb length but what are you gonna do. I just have a lot of thots where himbo rog is concerned and then there was that convo a little while ago about dressing him in a maid uniform and I had to use it in here. 

warnings: smut, hypnosis & bimbofication, dom!reader, fingering, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, a little bit of spanking, a little choking, a very brief mention of public sex, free use (perhaps leaning ever so slightly into consensual non consent), humiliation and degradation

Blurb Advent: Day 15

Future Management Series (all my bimbo/himbo writing)

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini  

The costume shop was quiet when you entered it, one of the fluorescent lights at the far end flickering. The lady at the counter looked up from her magazine, her gaze lingering on Roger for a moment before she looked back down.

“What was the theme again?” you asked Roger as you flicked through a rack of women’s costumes.

“The letter M,” he replied from one of the other racks.

“How did Freddie pick that?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him. Bigger question is what are we going to wear.”

“What about Mickey and Minnie Mouse?” you shrugged.

“That sounds easy. And we’d look cute as fuck.”

“Sorry, hun,” the woman at the counter piped up, “Sold out of them two days ago.”

“Rats.”

“Mice, love,” Roger teased poking his tongue out as he went to check out another row of costumes, “We could make them from scratch I suppose.”

“Left it a bit late though. We’re meant to have them by Saturday.” You headed to the counter in the hopes that the woman there would be able to speed things up, “Do you have any other costumes starting with M then?”

She sighed as she were being interrupted in a very important task before putting down her magazine and pulling out a binder full of lists of stock. Flicking through it she located the section with M. An awful lot of it had been crossed out.

“How many people are invited to this thing? And do they all shop here?”

He shrugged as he joined you at the counter, “Roughly half of London if his last party was anything to go by. What are our options?”

The women smiled at Roger, her attitude becoming much friendlier now that he was involved, “Not a lot I’m afraid. We’ve still got a Mummy, as in Ancient Egypt, ummm, a Maid, as in French, Marilyn Monroe, Mary Poppins, a Monk, Mrs Clause, Medieval Princess…”

“Looks like you’ll be easy to sort out,” Roger said to you, “not much in the way of mens costumes though. I’d be an alright Mummy I guess,”

“Sorry, should have specified. It’s a women’s costume that one. Very sexy,”

“How do you make a Mummy sexy?”

“Strategically removed bandages. I can show you if you like,” she said this last part to Roger, suggestion dripping from every word.

“What about the Monk?” you suggested.

“Ehhhh,”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Rog.”

“Alright, it’s the backup idea. Would I be able to fit in any of those other costumes though?”

The woman thought about it, giving Roger a once over as if measuring him with just her eyeballs, “The Maid maybe. Think we should have one large enough.”

“Alright I’ll try that.”

“And I’ll go Marilyn Monroe?”

“You as Marilyn? Oh there’s a joke in there somewhere…something about How To Mary A Millionaire?”

You shook your head at him, “Just go and try on your dress,”

It was a good thing Roger had no qualms about cross dressing because the maid outfit fit perfectly. One look at Roger’s legs in the short, ruffled skirt had your mind whirring with ideas. He bought both your costumes, adding in a maid’s headband and fishnet stockings for himself and a blond Marilyn wig for you. And on Saturday night you watched him don the outfit once more, struggling to keep your hands off him. Without you knowing, he’d gone and bought himself a pair of simple black heels, explaining that if he was going to do it he might as well do it properly. Unfortunately for you they just emphasised the shape of his legs in the fishnets and made his hips sway as he walked.

 The party itself was fun but you constantly found yourself zoning out, thinking about what you’d like to do to Roger before he got out of the dress.

“Love?” he asked, making you blink yourself back to the thumping music and loud voices, “You alright?’

“Fine,” you nodded.

Roger frowned and grabbed your hand, leading you away from the main throng of people, “You’ve been zoning out all night, are you sure you’re okay? Haven’t had too much to drink or anything?”

“No, it’s fine. Someone lit up a joint before and I must have breathed in some of it without meaning to.”

He gave you a look like he knew there was more to it.

“Also, maybe I can’t stop thinking about trancing you in that dress.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened and if it hadn’t been as dark as it was you would have seen a light pink stain creeping up his neck. He glanced around and then pulled you off down the hall and towards an even quieter spot, “and um, what might that look like?”

“I don’t know, got a few ideas,” your breath hitched as Roger pushed you into a dark corner of whichever room you’d ended up in, “like the idea of you on your knees. Bet I could see your arse if you leaned forward enough.”

Roger attached his lips to your throat, oblivious of if anyone else was around.

“Maybe spanking you or edg – ” you were cut off as Roger kissed you full on the mouth, his hands already working at getting his underwear and stockings down far enough to get his dick out.

“We’ll continue this conversation at home,” he said as he lifted you up, pushing your back against the wall as he moved your underwear aside.

 It took a couple of days for the topic to come up again but Roger was still just as into it as he had been at the party. He’d clearly been thinking about it too because he had almost as many ideas as you did and for a week or so you discussed it on and off. It came up intermittently, sometimes a single idea out of nowhere.

“What if you tranced me and made me think I was your maid or uhhh servant? Maybe like acted really strict? Or mean even?”

“What about I get a bell to ring to get your attention but use the hypnosis to condition you to get hornier when you hear it?”

Or sometimes it was more of a conversation with each of you building on what the other said.

“What do you think about exploring that free use thing we talked about a few months ago? Like me just having you how I want and when I want.”

“Would that require a more extended hypnosis? A whole day maybe? More?”

“No I don’t think so. I mean, maybe longer than the usual couple of hours. An afternoon? Not longer than a day though, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you.”

“Then yeah okay, we did agree it sounded hot in a non-hypno way so mixing them together should work. Um, what about that pegging thing we tried?”

“You wanna do it again?”

“Yeah I think so. Again, it was pretty hot last time so doing it while I’m hypnotised can only be better, right?”

“Are you sure? We’re both pretty new to it.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I really enjoyed it,” he laughed nervously, “and I would have suggested doing it again anyway, this just seems like a good excuse.”

By the end of the week you had a pretty solid idea about what you were both looking for from the scene and what you’d both feel comfortable doing. And you arranged it so you were both at home on Friday, free to spend the morning relaxing and the afternoon playing.

After an early lunch in which you made sure to mess up the kitchen, Roger went and changed, once again putting on the dress, fishnets, hair piece and shoes. Only this time he wore one of your thongs, sheer black, underneath and a butt plug you’d picked up for him, complete with a pink jewel on the end. For your part, you dressed in one of your work outfits with a grey pencil skirt and white blouse, hopeful that it would make you seem more authoritative. Roger did a little spin for you when he was dressed and then sat in one of the kitchen chairs so you could talk him down into his trance. The scenario you’d agreed upon had him believing he was your silly brainless maid, hired to do whatever you asked. The sound of your bell meant you had another task for him, but it also made him extra horny. So horny in fact that he’d have trouble remembering what he was meant to be doing. As you dropped him deeper and he relaxed more, you noticed his legs spreading further open, making you laugh to yourself. Finally you rang the bell to wake him.

Roger grinned at you from the chair, “What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Your first job of the day, Dummy,” you said, putting on a stern voice that left no room for argument, “is to dust off the bookshelf in the living room. It’s filthy up there.”

“Where?”

“Through this doorway,” you pointed and he dutifully stood up and began to walk toward it.

“You’ll need a duster,” you reminded him.

“Oh! Of course, Ma’am. Umm….”

“In that cupboard,”

Roger nodded, cheeks pink with embarrassment and retrieved the feather duster.

You followed him out to the living room, watching his skirt bounce with each step. He started off with the shelves at eye level, humming to himself as he brushed the duster over them, but soon had to move on to the shelves higher up. You perched yourself on the couch, acting as if you were reading though your eyes were on Roger, watching as he wobbled on his tip toes, his skirt riding up. You rang the bell and Roger jolted, looking around for you as he bit his lip.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“I think you might need to stand on a chair, Dummy. It doesn’t seem like you can reach the top shelves.”

He nodded and hurried to retrieve one, nearly running in his haste to please you.

The chair was a stroke of genius on your part. It gave you a good view up his skirt as he happily continued his dusting, especially when he leant over to get the far end of each shelf without moving his chair. You could clearly see the pink jewel every time and it made you eager to get him onto the next task. With another ring of the bell Roger jumped down to the ground and hurried to ask what he could do now.

“My shoes,” you said, pointing at the heels on your feet, “they need polishing. I want you to spit shine them for me.”

Roger blinked at you.

You clicked and pointed at your shoes again, “On your knees. C’mon, I’m not paying you to stand around and look pretty. Lick my shoes clean.”

“Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am,” he bowed his head and dropped to his knees where he stood, crawling over to you.

“Good Dummy,” you said as he trailed his tongue over the toe of your shoe. You’d wiped down the shoes earlier just to make sure Roger wouldn’t pick up any germs from them, but he was too brainless to notice they were already clean, enthusiastically licking at them. You made it clear you were watching him closely though. Midway through the second shoe you saw him brush his hand over the front of the skirt and stopped his shoe shining.

“I’m sorry, Dummy, is this making you horny?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,”

“Show me how much,” you wiggled your shoe under the hem of the skirt and pressed it lightly up, rubbing the toe against his crotch, “Hump my shoe, Maid.”

Without any more encouragement he began doing exactly as you’d asked, dragging his clothed cock along the top of your shoe, letting his eyes shut as he bit his lip.

“Alright, enough.” You pulled your food free and held it out in front of you, “Is it my imagination or did you make a mess on my shoe?”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I think you’re so fucking horny you’ve got precum all over my shoe. Is that right?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well,” you grabbed him by the hair and pushed him over the streak, “clean it up and tell me.”

Roger whimpered as you pulled his hair to move him where you wanted but thanked you for helping him and confirmed you were right. After that you felt he deserved a reward so you readjusted yourself, pulling your pencil skirt a little higher up your legs before you rang the bell again.

Roger groaned quietly at the sound, his breathing a little harder than before and then sat back. His eyes fell to where your skirt was gathered against your thigh as you crossed your legs.

“What now Ma’am?” he watched closely as you recrossed your legs, “Is there something else you’d like me to lick?”

“I don’t know. Is there something else you’d like to lick?”

He nodded, eyes still firmly on your thighs.

“Aren’t you just a pathetic little slut.”

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid so. Do you understand why?”

Roger nodded, still staring at your crotch, and then shook his head.

“Oh Dummy. It’s one thing to be my good little maid and eat me out when I tell you to, it’s entirely different for you to ask to do it. Do you see how slutty that makes you?”

Roger tilted his head and then shook it.

You tutted at him and knocked the bell as if on accident.

He whined at the sound.

“Crawl to the dining room. I want you to wash the floor in there.”

“But…please? I want to lick you soooooo bad and I’d be so good at it.”

“Careful, Maid. Now crawl.

“Yes Ma’am.” Roger dipped his head in apology and began crawling to the next room.

You stepped around him to retrieve a bucket of water and a cloth, placing both on the floor of the dining room where he stopped, “You know what to do.”

He looked at the bucket and back to you, confusion written all over his face.

With an exaggerated and exasperated sigh you handed him the cloth and, taking hold of his wrist, plunged his hand into the warm water. He gasped as you then wrenched it free and dropped it to the floorboards.

“Scrub.”

He nodded, looking mildly upset and dragged the cloth slowly over the floor.

You watched for a little while before coming up behind him, “Put your back into it, stop being lazy.” you pressed his upper back with your foot to make him bend forward.

His neck and face were bright pink, though it was hard to say whether it was arousal or embarrassment that was making him flush more. He did as you asked though, scrubbing the floor harder. You stepped behind him again, admiring the view and occasionally reminding him what you expected. After you felt you’d watched him struggle enough you stepped up behind him again. He pushed the cloth harder, expecting another reprimand. Instead you trailed you hand over the curve of his arse, pushing his skirt up higher.

Roger stilled, though you heard him whine softly into the floor.

“You’re doing a very good job, Dummy.”

He gasped when you suddenly spanked him but he pushed his arse back against your hand.

“You want another?”

He shook his head but kept pressing back against you.

“But I think you do,” You gave him another spank, “Now keep being good and see if you can earn some more.”

He nodded and smiled, though there were tears in his eyes, and then returned to scrubbing the floor.

 You let him go for a while, stepping out into the other room to calm down and get ready for the next part of the plan. You could feel your wetness pooling in your underwear with how turned on you were at ordering Roger around and how much he was enjoying it. Originally you were going to make him wait to get you off until after you’d fucked him but perhaps you could have your cake and eat it too. All the same you headed to the bedroom to gather the strap and dildo you’d bought when the topic of pegging had first arisen between you. You grabbed them and the lube and then put them down again as you considered your next move. The conclusion you came to was that there wasn’t much point having a desperate bimbo toy if you were only going to deny yourself. Roger came as much as he wanted when you were the one under his influence, so why shouldn’t you do the same. You quickly shimmied out of your underwear, and then picked everything up again, dropping it on the couch in the living room on your way back to see how Roger was getting along. He was still scrubbing though he’d spilt some of the water as he’d moved the bucket, the top of his dress wet in patches. You pulled out one of the chairs, standing in front of it as you rang the bell, and watched as Roger squirmed at the sound.  

“What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Come here.”

He immediately dropped the cloth and crawled towards you.

“Good Dummy. Need your fingers to make me feel good.” You rucked your skirt up and dropped onto the seat, placing one leg up on the table.

Rogers eyes lit up and he leaned forward as if to lick hungrily along your slit.

You grabbed his hair and held him back.

“Ma’am?” Roger whined, struggling against your grip with his tongue hanging out, desperate to reach your cunt.

“I said fingers, slut.”

Roger whimpered again but brought his hand up, trailing his fingers along your slit.

“That’s right Dummy. You’re gonna finger me and make me cum and you’re going to keep your eyes up here so I know you’ll behave yourself.”

He nodded rapidly, his eyes on yours, “You’re wet,”

“You know how much I like watching your cute little arse work. C’mon, finger me,” you instructed, waiting until he’d sunk one digit into you before continuing, “Love seeing you with that pretty plug. Makes me want to use you.”

“Ma’am can I…?”

“I didn’t say you could talk. Focus.”

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his finger out and pressed it back in.

“You look confused Slut. What’s the matter?”

“Is this good?”

You smiled indulgently at that, half convinced he’d been about to ask to eat you out again, “So good Dummy. Add a second finger.”

He did as you asked, automatically curling them against you as he pulled them out.

“You’re such a good, obedient servant.” You relaxed back into the chair, letting Roger find a good rhythm.

He was quiet for a bit, concentrating, and then “Can I lick you now?”

You made a tutting noise, “I thought you understood your position.”

“Pos-tition?”

“I guess I have to explain it again then. I don’t care if you like licking cunt, this isn’t about you. You’re my maid. Your job is to serve me however I want, remember? I don’t care if you want something different. You’re mine to use how and when I want. Those were the conditions I hired you under, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,”

“Are you sure? Then why haven’t I cum yet?”

Roger kept his eyes locked on yours as he sunk a third finger into you, pumping them faster and bringing his other hand up to rub your clit.

“Better,” you managed to get out, though it was much breathier than you’d intended.

Roger poked his tongue out between his teeth as he put all his energy into pleasuring you. You let your head drop back, rocking your hips in time with his thrusts as he sank his fingers deep into you, his other hand firmly occupied too. He slid his thumb between your lips and up to circle your clit, spreading your arousal over your cunt. The mixture of sensations sent you over the edge without too much delay, your legs clamping shut to keep his hand where you wanted it until you’d come down. Afterwards you made Roger hold his fingers up, cleaning them off with your own tongue. He whined and pouted as he watched you lick up your juices, so desperate to taste you for himself. You gave him a small concession though, grabbing his cheeks when you were done to force his mouth open. He looked confused as you brought your face close and spat onto his tongue, your saliva tinged with what you’d just licked from his fingers. But he thanked you with a big smile and a small hum of satisfaction as he swallowed it.

“What now Ma’am?” he asked softly, sitting up straighter and glancing at the bell.

You bumped the bell against your palm as if in thought, watching Roger wince with each ring, “The kitchen needs a tidy up. Go in there and wipe down all the benches for me, okay? I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Roger nodded and walked on unsteady legs back through the house. You followed him, needing to point him in the right direction a couple of times, and then continued on to the living room to collect your supplies and remove your skirt. It took you a little while to figure out the harness. Last time Roger had helped you get set up so doing it on your own was a little confusing. You took a breath and reminded yourself you were a smart and capable woman and that you could figure out a simple sex toy on your own, and eventually got it on right. When you were comfortable you popped open the lube and spread more than you thought you’d need along the shaft of the toy. It still felt a little bizarre to look down and see a penis, even if it was obviously fake. The first time you’d tried it on you’d wondered aloud if the work you did for those living rough would have been easier to achieve if you had a real one and Roger had suggested you wear it to work one day and find out. You’d laughed at how ridiculous that was and the memory made you chuckle again as you double checked everything was in the right place.

Roger was in the kitchen when you arrived, standing at the bench with a cloth in his hand, humming to himself, though he seemed to have forgotten what he was meant to be doing. You stepped behind him and ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, over the stockings.

The humming stopped and he stilled, “Ma’am?”

“Bend over.”

He did as you asked, his chest and arms leaning on the bench.

You felt him up, letting your hands roam under his skirt, brushing over his cock and along his thigh and over his arse, making his shiver and whine. “Good thing this dress is so short, Dummy. Makes it so much easier for me. And it makes you look like a slut. You’re very hard by the way, does that mean you like it when I tell you what to do?”

His voice was soft when he spoke to the bench top, “Yes, Ma’am,”

“That’s good because I like telling you what to do. And you should be happy to know that I’m wet from watching my brainless maid working all day.”

“I am happy!”

“You are?”

“Mmhmm. Maybe I could help you Ma’am, I love cunt so much.”

“Aww Dummy,” you cooed, stroking your fingers through his hair, “That’s sweet of you to offer but it’s not what I want right now,” you took the fishnets in both hands and tugged until a rip formed right along the back, “For now I want you to stay bent over for me so I can use you. Just like I talked about before, remember?”

“When you said I’m yours to use how you want?”

“You do remember! Good boy!”

“And you said, ummmm,” he gasped as you moved his underwear aside and began slowly working the plug out of him, adding lube to make it easier

“Go one, what else did I say?” you asked as you pushed the plug back in, fucking him with it, adding more lube as necessary.

“Umm, you said they were the,” he stretched out the word as he thought hard, “oh! The co-com-bit-ons and that its, umm, my job to serve you?”

“Very good! That was so much to remember, I’m very impressed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dummy. I think I’ll have to give you a reward for remembering it all so well.”

Roger looked over his shoulder at you, grinning, “Thank you Ma’am,”

“Alright, turn back around, I’m still going to use you. Because….?”

“Because I’m yours?”

“Good boy,” you pulled the plug free and placed it on the bench beside you. Squeezing some more lube onto your fingers you began spreading it over his arsehole.

“‘s cold,” he said softly to the bench.

“I know baby, but it won’t be for long. And I gotta make sure there’s enough so that I don’t hurt you. And then you’ll be all ready for my cock.”

Roger nodded, flattening himself on the bench as you lined up the tip of the dildo and slowly sank into him.

Roger made a high pitched keening noise and you reached out to stroke his hair again as he adjusted.

“You okay, baby?” you asked letting the stern act drop for a moment.

Roger nodded, “yeah, ‘m okay. Just feels funny.”

“But good though?”

“Mmhmm. Good.”

“Good. I want you to like it. It’s more fun when you do.”

“I do!” as if to prove it he pushed his hips back, making you sink a little deeper.

“I can see that,” you laughed, “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay Dummy, and you’re going to enjoy it, right?”

He nodded, whining as you pulled your hips back slowly and then thrust forward again, figuring out your rhythm and adjusting to the sort of muscle movement it required. As you got more comfortable with it you let yourself be a little firmer, grasping Roger’s waist and fucking him harder, drawing more gasps and whines and moans from him. You varied your speed, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, keeping Roger from knowing exactly what you would do next (and giving yourself a break every so often). He’d taken your instruction to enjoy it to heart though. His fingernails scraped along the top of the bench as he tried to ground himself, rocking his hips back against you whenever you slowed.

“I want you to cum, Dummy. Rub your cock through your pretty sheer panties.”

“Th-through?”

“Over your panties.”

“Um,”

You stilled your hips and pulled out of him so you could grab his hand and lift his skirt, placing his palm over his cock, “now rub.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he began to stroke himself. His hand stilled as you plunged into him again but a warning word made him remember what you wanted and he shakily followed your orders as you fucked him hard.

“How does it feel, Maid, being used for my entertainment?”

Roger babbled something incomprehensible in response. You couldn’t tell if it was just noise or if he’d been trying to form words but it was hot either way.

“C’mon, show me how much you like being my pretty little fuck doll. Be the pathetic little slut I know you are, and cum.” You panted between the words but Roger didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t care. It must have sounded authoritative enough because a few seconds later he was moaning, his fingers twitching and legs shaking as he came. You slowed to a stop and replaced the dildo with his plug again before fixing his underwear and smoothing down his skirt.

“There, all pretty again,”

“Thank you Ma’am,” he sighed.

You patted his head, “Finish up cleaning off the benches in here and I’ll have another job for you.” You walked off, releasing a long breath once you were out of his hearing.

 In the time it took you to get out of the harness, put your skirt back on, throw the dildo into a sink of hot water and relocate the bell, Roger achieved very little. He hadn’t moved from where you’d bent him over though he had stood up and grabbed his cloth again, drawing circles with it over the benchtop. When you came back to get him for his next job he was shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s the matter, Dummy?”

“Nothing,”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded though he didn’t meet your eye.

“Tell me.”

“My panties…”

“Aww, is it a bit uncomfortable?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Well maybe I can distract you.” You rang the bell and watched as his eyes glazed over and his hips jolted. “The bed needs to be made Dummy. Go on, off you go.”

He nodded and hurried off, his heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, his step awkward as he squirmed in discomfort. You followed him and showed him where to get a clean sheet from, watching as he pottered around the bed pulling off all the bedding, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Putting a new fitted sheet on the mattress seemed to be too hard a task though. It was almost cartoonish how much he struggled, placing the wrong corner of the sheet on the wrong corner of the bed and then somehow repeating the same mistake when he tried to turn the sheet around. He wouldn’t stand still, uncomfortably dancing around in his cum soaked underwear, getting more and more frustrated as the corner he thought he’d got on flew up when he tried to fit the next one. Every so often you jangled the bell under the guise of getting his attention to give him a helpful tip or reprimand him for taking so long, but it had the added effect of turning him on more than he already was, his face flushed and his eyes begging. You let him continue for a few minutes and then, when he next turned in response to your bell, you surprised him by pushing him onto the mattress.

“Ma’am?” he asked, voice trembling as you positioned yourself on his thigh and pushed his dress up.

“You made such a mess before, didn’t you? Ruined your panties and I’m afraid it’s spread to your pretty dress,” you showed him the patches on the inside of the skirt from where it had rubbed against the sheer fabric of his knickers and been stained. “Lucky for you I like messy little sluts. And” you palmed him roughly, “I think you like it too. Already hard again?”

Roger shook his head but tilted his head back and whined.

You placed your hand over his throat, “Don’t lie to me, Maid. I can see it; I can feel it. You’re a dirty little slut who gets off on being my property. My dumb little fuck doll.” You punctuated the last sentence by grinding against his thigh with each word, squeezing his length through his stained underwear. “I’m going to make you cum again now and if you’re good I might see about letting you eat me out. I did promise you a reward earlier,”

“Please,” Roger whimpered, “I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“I know, Dummy. But not yet.” You squeezed his throat at the same time you rubbed your hand over his cock, choking off the moan that had begun to build. Roger squirmed under you as you wanked him off, cooing at him about how pretty he looked and how wet it was making you. Each stroke along his shaft was accompanied by a breathy whine or moan, his head tilted back and his eyes fluttering shut. It was always fun to watch Roger be pushed towards release when he was tranced. It was fun when he wasn’t hypnotised either but there was something about taking his brain away that made him more animated and vocal. He babbled at you again, his hand grabbing your wrist as he got closer, his back arching as he tried to buck his hips up into you.

“Good boy, good Dummy,” you praised him as he finished, able to feel the warmth of his release fill the material again as you kept stroking him, milking every drop you could. He whined loudly as he became more sensitive, but you kept toying with him until tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, Dummy, stay there while I take my skirt off.”

Roger remained lying where you left him, so you gave him a soft kiss and wiped away his tears, praising him a little more, before you swung your leg over his face and finally let him have what he wanted.  

 It was as if you’d told him he’d won the lottery. He just about cheered as he thanked you repeatedly and then wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his tongue. You had to stick out an arm to try and steady yourself as he devoured you, excitedly tracing your lips with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth. He hummed and whimpered against you and used his hands to encourage you to rock yourself against his mouth, spreading your wetness across his face. At one point, so giddy with joy, he giggled, and you jolted at the bizarre tickling sensation of his breath. But that just seemed to spur him on as he licked and sucked every inch of your cunt he could reach. You weren’t sure if his end goal was to make you cum or if he just got very excited and enthusiastic about pussy but, either way, the result was the same. It was impossible to hold back your release as his tongue slid along your folds and his lips latched onto you. He hummed as you gasped and tensed above him, refusing to stop until you pried his hands from your thighs and let yourself fall back to the bed. He pouted as if he wanted to throw a tantrum at having his favourite food taken away, but you managed to make him smile by telling him how incredible you felt and how good he was.

He let you lie down next to him and listened quietly as you talked him out of the trance, reminding him who he was and the reality of your situation. You waited as Roger opened his eyes, stroking his hair back from his face softly as everything returned to him.

“Wow,” was the first thing he said, “That was,” he cleared his throat and pushed himself to sit up, “that was something.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, a very fun something,” he hurried to clarify so you wouldn’t worry, “I take it you enjoyed yourself too?”

You laughed and nodded, “Definitely. This is going to sound bad but I like being mean to you.”

“I get it,” he leaned over to kiss you softly, “I like being mean to you too.”

“And the pegging and free use stuff? All of that was okay? How do you feel now?”

“Oh, better than okay. That was brilliant. We’re definitely playing with them more in the future. Bit sore now and I really, really want to get out of this thong. Also take the plug out.”

“I can arrange that. D’you want some help with the plug?”

“Yes please.” Roger shifted onto his stomach, trying to relax so you could peel off the underwear and slowly wiggle the plug out of his arse, “Add these knickers to the list of ones I’ve ruined though.”

“That’s only cause I get such a kick out of making you cum in your pants.”

He hummed, wincing a little as the plug slipped all the way out, “y’know one of these days I’m going to wake up from a trance and decide to gag you with whatever underwear you made me destroy while I keep eating you out. I still have a bit of a lingering need to have my head between your legs and I do so enjoy overstimulating you.”

“Save that for a special occasion,” you laughed, giving his bum a tap to let him know he could roll over, “C’mon, shall I run us a bath?”

Roger nodded and let you pull him up, kissing you softly before he stood on slightly wobbly legs followed you out of the bedroom.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from the Baali Clanbook V2 in "Vampire the Masquerade" Part 2 of 2

"Look at the world around you. No, truly look. Do you see it? The entropy slowly eating away at the fabric of existence? The world is dying."

"Existence has always teetered on the brink in some way or another."

"From the coming of prophets and gods to the turn of the millennium. Mankind has always found some way to turn the metamorphosis of life into an “end of days” scenario."

"It's not hyperbole."

"All things must come to an end. Even our universe."

"We can either fear this new existence or we can embrace it. I know which I choose. What will your decision be?"

"I find humanity both fascinating and boring."

"I find humanity both fascinating and boring. They are creatures who have risen above their state as pure beasts in the wild. They have domesticated the world, bringing it to heel under the boot of technology and enterprise. They have tamed the lightning and created weapons of such incredible potency that they could end the entire world with the push of a few buttons. But, at the same time, they cannot even control their own impulses."

"I do love seeing the hope in a victim’s eyes slowly die."

"We need to talk about vampires."

"They are all in their positions due to back-alley deals, dirty deeds, and betrayals that they fear will one day topple them."

"They are afraid. Afraid of losing power."

"Power is a cruel master."

"Do not put yourself out there in a manner that draws unwanted attention."

"Those who are worthy of your knowledge should seek you out, not the other way around."

"Use what you know to twist their desires to your own ends."

"Utilize every secret desire and urging until your “clients” are nothing more than puppets on your strings."

"Above all, however, don’t forget to clean when guests come to call. It’s embarrassing to have a bloody carpet."

"Arrogance will be the gap in their armor that you can exploit."

"They wounded ego and regret."

"That’s a level of fucked up I can’t wrap my head around."

"So easy to guide around by their rage."

"Get over it already."

"They’re not corruptors unless you want to be corrupted."

"It’s bargain basement degradation at best."

"All good rites have some semblance of pageantry to help build up psychic energy for ritual release, sure. But when you perform the rite more for the pageantry than sacrifice or offerings? You’ve missed the point."

"The beautiful ones have this fucked up perception that they are icons of style, grace, and tact."

"The punks think of themselves as whirlwinds of creative destruction."

"After all, I want to see the world break out of this nascent shell of physicality and witness the birth of a new universe."

"So, I can get behind wanting to push past pain and physical limitations."

"These. . .things will not think twice about skinning you alive and making you part of the furniture. And honestly. . .I can respect that."

"These fucking guys."

"There comes a time in everyone’s life when they look at the world around them and wonder; “Is this it? Is this everything that there is?”

"Life, if we are honest, is nothing but a series of disappointments."

"My youth was spent chasing some phantom of purpose. Some reason for us being here, for going on, day after day, living."

"My desperate pleas were met with unyielding silence."

"We all wander through the world, clinging to half-promises of something greater."

"We will find the bliss of enlightenment only after the trials of our world."

"Why was everything we did destined to age and rot?"

"There was no blissful release. There was no epiphany of understanding. No moment of realizing my place in the universe."

"We are, each of us, insignificant."

"We don’t get rich off hard work. Luck and heritage define who rises to the top."

"We don’t find enlightenment as we grow older, we only find bitterness and fear of encroaching death."

"We race to accomplish something. . .anything, that will live on after our deaths."

"I thought sensation would provoke deeper understanding. It does not. It only burns bright, then fades quickly, leaving a person yearning for the next instance of fleeting bliss."

"There is nothing. No great reward awaiting the dying. There is no great paradise for the enlightened. There are fading memories of life and the swirling maelstrom of oblivion."

"Why would anyone want to deny themselves anything knowing that, in the end, they are only fit for utter destruction and darkness?"

"Take every moment of disappointment in your life. Every hardship. Every heartbreak. And then realize that none of it matters in any form in the end."

"Fuck the universe."

"Fuck every lie and every false promise of salvation or of some “great reward” that never comes."

"Enlightenment is a trap."

"Fuck every self-styled guru that peddles street corner bliss and a side of eternal understanding."

"This universe is a fucked -up failure."

"This universe is a fucked -up failure. An experiment with no principal investigator at the helm. Let’s scrap it and start something new. Something where we can make our own purpose."

"It is the only choice we have —to grasp our destinies and forge something new out of the corpse of the old."

"The end is coming and there is no stopping it. But. . .we can accelerate it. We can end this torturous existence and craft something new and meaningful from its remains."

"We are not destroyers, nor are we heralds of destruction. We are idealists seeking to bring purpose to existence. We are scholars burdened with the horrible truth that this universe must burn so that something new and pure can take its place."

"Evil. I hate the word."

"To the point, however, the word “evil” is such a catch-all that is, at its core, quite meaningless."

"We are the midwives of eternity, here to see to the proper birth of what is to come."

"Evil may be a word that can fit us, but to the darkness, isn’t the invasive nature of light evil?"

"I do what I do out of simple necessity."

"“Good” and “evil” are terms for children."

"They are just as “evil” as we. They simply lie to themselves about it."

"I think the truth lies between these tales."

"While the stain of grievous sins can color the auras of most, yours, for some reason, remains pure and innocent."

"You may not realize it, but your very essence sings with dark power."

"You understand the state of the world. You understand how it hangs so precariously between collapse and a great rebirth in darkness."

"In these dark, twisting visions, the future is revealed in flashes of blood-soaked fate."

"They will still be a missing person and be mourned, but they will be, effectively, simply considered another statistic and efforts to seek out justice for them will fade."

"While friends and family still remember the individual and their name, any efforts to seek out justice for them or to search for them cease after the ritual is performed."

"By sharing the affections of your damned patron, you can grant infernal powers to others."

"The allure of evil can draw in the curious like a moth to a flame."

"What is your most shameful secret?"

"What do you desire the most?"

"Whom do you secretly despise?"

"The most valuable advice, then, would be to act subtle. Be calm. Act comfortable."

"Akkadian script is simple, but apparently too difficult for you to count in."

"The quest for the next horizon has always haunted your mind."

"No matter what you were doing, no matter where you were at. . .there was always the allure of the unknown calling out to you."

"The allure of history and understanding what came before was simply too great to ignore."

"You were ravenous for knowledge."

"By the end of the week, you were no longer alive."

"Cultures died out across the world. Why?"

"The great puzzle of the universe lays before you. "

"The ancients knew secrets that would sear the minds of today’s scholars."

"The old gods are my strength. They are my shield."

"Mankind has forgotten where its oldest, bloodiest rites came from."

"Your traditions were handed down to you by your parents, and to them by their parents."

"Old deities that were converted into demons and devils by Abrahamic religions were once sources of inspiration to the world."

"While you have dabbled in mainstream paganism, practitioners these days ring hollow to you."

"Their worship more out of desperation than any true passion."

"It wasn’t for you."

"You caught the attention of something in the dark."

"There is a strength in the old ways that it seems many have forgotten."

"What you are doing is not evil. It is necessary."

"Do stop squirming. It ruins the effect."

"Something was always broken inside of you. "

"Your questions cut through the niceties of social decorum."

"You weren’t ignorant of the suffering you caused. You just didn’t care."

"They love their work and the pain it inflicts."

"You? You honestly adore the look of terror ."

"After all, what is the point of your work if you do not enjoy it from time to time?"

"You know the best ways to draw out the psychic energy for a proper sacrifice."

"They will come. Have no doubt of that."

"You simply didn’t understand the need for religion."

"You were out of place."

"There is a calmness that comes from knowing the end is inevitable."

"You are existing on the precipice of a new universe and you know this."

"Your faith sustains you."

"Aren’t you a beautiful soul?"

"It was an easy lie."

"You have been an apt pupil."

"I am here to do the Devil’s work."

"Life hasn’t always sucked."

"Being homeless creates a new kind of resentment."

"People walk by, either with contempt or pity in their eyes for you. Both are an insult."

"In your anger, you lashed out, you reached for something new that could explain all the inconsistencies in the world."

"Beings from beyond time? The hell does that even mean?"

"You are the devil’s own."

"Satan was a model of freedom from tyranny."

"Your soul is foul and beyond redemption."

"Power belongs to those who are daring enough to wield it."

"You became the popular one, the one in demand, who’s very expression could elevate someone or dash their hopes."

"So, you arranged the death of your beneficiary and inherited their wealth."

"They admired the grace and style with which you brought your targets to heel and slowly destroyed them."

"It only took a week to catch your eye."

"The world may be destined to die a slow, agonizing death, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have your fun wherever you can find it."

"Who are you to judge?"

"You are only as good as your last rumor."

"It’s the thrill of the hunt that drives you and exhilarates you."

"You don’t understand. I know what breathes in the dark. I’m trying to keep it asleep."

"You were always looking for a place to fit in."

"The desire to fit in is always powerful. It can guide our actions and even our thoughts. It can shift our perspective, causing a realignment of our core values."

"Once you found some semblance of purpose you could identify with—and one that made you out to be a hero fighting back darkness, you embraced it wholeheartedly."

"You will keep doing what you know you must do."

"If they only knew that you were working to protect all of them. . .maybe they would be more grateful."

"You have a subtle contempt for modern society."

"You understand the desires that drive people to extremes. . .and you have no qualms about twisting those needs and urges to your ends."

"Everyone you meet is a tool to be used, a potential sacrifice, or a threat to be neutralized."

"You dress to impress—always in the most stylish manners according to what is in fashion."

"Use every environmental factor to your benefit when possible."

"Make good entrances and silent exits."

"You are a cutthroat negotiator when you need to be but know that sometimes the appearance of defeat can serve you better than a clear victory."

[thecollegefootballguy]

2021 Top Games of the Week: Week 1

Football is back! Week 0 was incredibly boring but Week 1 should more than make up for that. We’ve got a load of interesting games this week that should kick off the season in style. Let’s have a look!

The Top Ten Games of the Week

10. West Virginia at Maryland (Saturday 9/4)

The 10 spot goes to one of the fun rivalry games once again kicking off. West Virginia and Maryland have kept their non-conference rivalry going even as both schools changed conferences in the past 10 years. I hope they keep playing it moving forward. Neither team is expected to contend for their conference, or division in the Terrapins’ case, so winning the rivalry games is #1 on the list for many fans on both sides.

9. Michigan State at Northwestern (Friday 9/3)

The Big Ten is trotting out several conference games to open the season. Michigan State at Northwestern is perhaps the least interesting, but it does feature the defending champions of the West Division. In 2020, the Wildcats came out of nowhere last year to claim their second division title in three years. Meanwhile, the Spartans gutted their way through a season that would have been incredibly disappointing if not for their win over Michigan. Both squads have question marks but with this early conference game we’ll get a better idea where each team stands.

8. #4 Ohio State at Minnesota (Thursday 9/2)

Ohio State is ready to kick off another season with a national championship in their sights. The Buckeyes are quite clearly one of the best teams in the country and expect to go 12-0 or 11-1 at the very worst. Minnesota hasn’t had an opportunity like this is a while. The Gophers are expected to be loaded for bear as they prepare to take the next step forward under P.J. Fleck. Back in 2019, Minnesota defeated #4 Penn State to catapult themselves into a tie with Wisconsin for the West title. I’m sure they have a similar outcome on their minds here for OSU.

7. #16 LSU at UCLA 1-0 (0-0) (Saturday 9/4)

This one is going to hold my attention this weekend. LSU has had a strange two years, going from national champions with potentially the best football team of all time to 5-5 also rans nearly overnight. Sure, they have had time to reload now and the Tigers should be fine, but more than a few eyebrows have been raised already. Meanwhile, UCLA’s long rebuild under Chip Kelly has finally started to bear fruit. The Bruins mauled an overmatched Hawaii squad in week 0. Big deal, the Rainbow Warriors aren’t on the same level as Louisiana State, who will give UCLA a real litmus test to see how far they’ve come. Also it’s cool to see a PAC-SEC matchup, I feel like those conferences have the most infrequent combinations of matchups among the P5 leagues.

6. #10 North Carolina at Virginia Tech (Friday 9/3)

The ACC isn’t quite matching the Big Ten for Week 1 intrigue, but this early bout may have big ramifications on the Coastal race. North Carolina is favored in a race with Miami according to the experts, but things rarely ever go right in this strange division. Virginia Tech are in an awkward position. Things haven’t been going well in Blacksburg lately and fans wanted Justin Fuente fired years ago at this point. It would be a huge opportunity for the Hokies to turn their fortunes around if they can jump on the Tar Heels at home.

5. #23 Louisiana at #21 Texas (Saturday 9/4)

This is a trap game for sure. Steve Sarkisian’s first game as Texas head coach and it’s against a team that made their name last year upsetting regular season Big 12 Champions Iowa State. Louisiana will absolutely give the Longhorns a tougher test than they would normally expect from a G5 program and if they’re not careful UT could faceplant.

4. #17 Indiana at #18 Iowa (Saturday 9/4)

It’s not a sexy matchup in the conventional sense, but you have to give credit where it’s due. Indiana were one of the darlings of the 2020 season. The Hoosiers shocked the world last season with a breakout 6-2 record. With a full season’s worth of games to play now, IU is gunning for double digit wins. Iowa is their usual selves. The Hawkeyes were once again a strong team last year and that should be the case in 2021 as well. Iowa expects to contend for the West Division this year and have to win their cross-division games to give them their best chance at getting to Indianapolis.

3. #19 Penn State at #13 Wisconsin (Saturday 9/4)

The biggest of the Big Ten’s Week 1 matchups sees two of the best programs in the conference square off. Penn State had a bad year in 2020, no other way around saying it. The Nittany Lions need to rebound in 2021 or there will be a lot of question marks surrounding the direction of the program under James Franklin. Wisconsin is their usual selves, meaning the Badgers should once again be one of the top teams in the league but still a step (or two) behind Ohio State. Both Wisconsin and Penn State want to win their respective divisions, a loss in Week 1 would be a crucial setback for either side.

2. #1 Alabama vs #14 Miami FL (Atlanta, GA) (Saturday 9/4)

The defending champions start off the year in a high profile matchup with another high profile team. Miami isn’t quite playing up to their potential just yet, but the Hurricanes are on more solid footing than we’ve seen in a while. Many are expecting another breakthrough season similar to what we saw in 2017. It might not matter either way if the Canes get back to that level. It will be incredibly hard to unseat Alabama. The Crimson Tide are losing a lot of guys from their championship squad, but new faces with similar levels of talent are coming in to replace those who’ve left for the NFL. It feels foolish betting against Bama but a Week 1 loss would be one of the more likely scenarios for a regular season loss at all for the Tide.

1. #5 Georgia at #3 Clemson (Saturday 9/4)

This one is a no-brainer. Georgia and Clemson’s on again-off again rivalry is once again heating back up. The stakes haven’t been this high since the early 80′s, with both the Tigers and Bulldogs attempting to claim national championships this year. UGA is hoping to rebound and reclaim the SEC East after giving it away to Florida last season. The Dawgs are on the short list of 6 or so teams that are aiming to make the Playoff every year. Clemson is one of the other squads on that special list. The Tigers are hosting and may be favored, but we need to be wary of their lack of depth at the QB position. A loss here might not end a Playoff campaign, but it would be a bad start to one as well as a black eye against a regional recruiting rival. 

-

5 G5 Games of the Week

5. Syracuse at Ohio (Saturday 9/4)

Frank Solich unfortunately won’t be the head coach in Athens, but I think his old team is in great position to claim a P5 scalp as hapless Syracuse makes the trek for a rare MAC road date.

4. Marshall at Navy (Saturday 9/4)

Two of the G5′s more consistent brands face off. Marshall is trotting out their first new coach in 15 years while Navy is attempting to spit out the bad taste in their mouths after a disappointing 2020 season.

3. Miami OH at #8 Cincinnati (Saturday 9/4)

The Battle of the Bell is one of FBS football’s oldest rivalries and I love giving it the spotlight. I don’t expect Miami to win of course, while they have been a solid MAC program in the last couple years, the RedHawks aren’t up to the same level as Cincinnati. The Bearcats are favored to repeat as the #1 G5 program in the nation. Cincinnati haven’t lost to their in-state rivals since 2005, giving Miami plenty of reason to try and solve the Cincy defense that gave teams such fits last season.

2. Texas Tech vs Houston (Houston, TX) (Saturday 9/4)

That’s right, Houston was able to call on to upgrade this game to NRG Stadium. The Cougars and Red Raiders are throwing a Southwest Conference reunion party and everybody’s invited. Both Texas Tech and Houston have been struggling lately and this game definitely has high stakes for both programs.

1. Boise State at UCF (Saturday 9/4)

Two of the G5′s biggest brands face off as Boise State travels to the Bounce House to take on UCF. The stakes are obvious: the winner here will be the G5′s #2 option after Cincinnati moving forward through the season.

-

FCS Games of the Week

5. #14 Central Arkansas at Arkansas State (Saturday 9/4)

More likely to happen than you might imagine. Arkansas State moved on from coach Blake Anderson at the end of 2020 and Butch Jones (yeah) needs time to get things set. Central Arkansas has an opportunity to knock off their big brother in Jonesboro.

4. #9 Montana at #20 Washington (Saturday 9/4)

It’s the revival of an ancient PCC series dating back to the 1950′s. Montana will certainly be an underdog against a Washington squad that technically did win the PAC-12 North last year.

3. #21 Northern Iowa at #7 Iowa State (Saturday 9/4)

Iowa State has moved mountains to become this good, but the Cyclones aren’t impervious to upsets as last year showed us. Northern Iowa has their own chance to knock off big brother.

2. #6 Weber State at #24 Utah (Thursday 9/2)

This one should be tough no matter how good Weber State is. The Utes’ physical game will be tough for the Wildcats to overcome, but they’ll take their shot at glory no matter what.

1. #10 Jacksonville State vs UAB (Montgomery, AL) (Wednesday 9/1)

Now this is cool, an FBS-FCS game played at a neutral site. I love to see matchups like this. UAB is one of the best G5 programs of the last 5 years while Jacksonville State is one of the most consistent FCS squads in the deep South.

[talesofnovembria]

Are you worthy?

The game had begun.

Two had already taken off into the depths of the castle, eager to begin their search. It was expected of those present to make their way out of the central room to the rest of the building, just as those two had done… but she hesitated. This was a game, but relatively anything in regards to an end goal, or even rules had been left a mystery. All the contestants had were a vague idea on where to go from this starting point.

Use your head. You don’t know what to expect, none of us do. It would be smarter to work together.

A tiny voice crawling in her head managed to point out the obvious, “It’s a game. There can only be one winner.”

He was right, of course, but there were a couple problems with that. For one, this was a game of honor. Any other sort of scenario like this one, it would have been smarter for her to go on her own, prepare herself for the inevitable conflict, and there was nothing to solidly deter her away from that in the present situation… except for one thing. Looking around the room at the others here, only two of whom she recognized.

And recognized was not the same as knowing them. What were they capable of? The Divine King had made it very clear this event came with risk, and all of them had still made the conscious decision to attend. It seemed to be one of the aspects that had all of them on edge before the announcement of the game’s beginning. It wasn’t hard for her gaze to wash over the others and feel that with not only her background, but her line of work, might give her some kind of unfair advantage. What could any of them do to her?

And where was the honor in that?

For two, the very threat of some kind of unknown risk. Again that nagging question came back… what were they capable of? Spirits and humans in a world where the very rules of existence were so unclear. How would they protect themselves? A worrying feeling sank into her very being. If this were her own team, she’d leave no man behind. They were a team for a reason.

The blue haired girl, Vivi… the blond with one metal arm, Arthur… and a spirit tinted to the color of blue, who’s name she didn’t know. They were the only ones currently left in the room… in a way, her team… but only if they saw it the same way.

And that led her to be the one to address them first, “I don't know about the rest of you, but I think we may stand a better chance sticking together. See what this place has to offer. If you'll allow me, I'll go where you do."

Arthur had gone up to the Divine King, not only to make sure he was alright, but to see if maybe there was some more information the host of the event might have to offer to them. He only confirmed what she assumed, that this was meant to be a free-for-all. Only one winner.

At one point or another… it must be expected that they would turn on one another. A sickening feeling in some regard.

But one good thing had come of focusing on him first. He’d been the first to agree with her, though proposed an idea of his own. Splitting into two smaller groups. There was safety in numbers… but he had one point. Even if the four of them aimed to work together, they could cover more ground if they split up. He had also brought up the prospect of looking for the others as well, though that plan wasn’t as desirable. All of them had to remember they were still part of a game.

If they came across the others, then fine, but they should also look to give themselves a fighting chance rather than spending all their time looking for someone else.

She hadn’t paid much attention to what the blue spirit was doing, though her attention had finally retreated from her own inner thoughts when Vivi spoke up, "We have no idea what could be waiting for us out there.  We don't know if we'll be strong in numbers, but it's worth a try."

She had paced ahead, coming to the now unlocked doors that lead to the rest of the castle. She’d given a glance over her shoulder to ensure the other three were coming, “Come on then! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Well, she certainly had enthusiasm to share.

This really was the team then?

The blue haired one taking charge.

The skittish, but caring, blond.

The bone covered spirit in formal wear.

And an unusual canine companion.

A strange combination, and yet fitting in a way.

"It seems the decision has been made then," she mused more to herself than the others in the room. Once she had also come to the doors, she offered a passing glance to the other two members of their team. Eventually, they came back to Vivi, "It would be a good idea if we also keep track of where we are and where we have been. At least that way if we come across something that may be dangerous, we have somewhere we can return to. I'm open to suggestions on where we go first."

Vivi hadn’t offered a suggestion, but her ears turned to listen to those behind her.

"Would... do you want to... maybe partner up with me for now...? While we look around. Or-- I mean if you'd rather with one of the others that's fine and all I just.... Yeah...."

“I’d love to go with you.”

"Let's go, big guy. You follow me for now, okay? We'll see what we can find."

It seemed those two had made their decision, but there was no need to press the issue. She’d simply remembered her first thought. So long as they were helping each other out, then this was a tactical way of seeing more of the castle grounds before they found their way back to one another. Rather than try to press the issue, she accepted it. Calling over to Arthur, "I'll go off with Vivi then for now. We can always meet up later and compare findings. Good luck you two."

He waved, calling back to them, "Good luck to you guys too! I'll try to pick up anyone we run into if I can."

From there, they went their separate ways.

Salena hadn’t noticed until too late that Vivi was no longer with her. A mocking tone whispered through her head, “Nice going. Not a few minutes in and you’ve lost your new partner. Good job mutt.”

Hush.

She should turn around, look for Vivi… but she should also take part in the actual game. The girl looked like she could take care of herself, if their one interaction prior to this was anything to go off of. She… should press on ahead for now. They were bound to meet up again at some point.

So long as she was beginning her exploration, it was best to take navigating in a methodical approach. She should start with the current floor, but that line of thinking could always change.

How… unsettling it was she found herself in the throne room first. The room was pristine, stone under her feet and along the walls. The space was enclosed, yet light seemed to flood in from around her. Stained glass made a multitude of colors shimmer in the stone room. There were smaller spirits here, simpler than the Divine King, or even the one that had gone off with Arthur. They noticed her when she entered, but had largely gone back to their cleaning duties.

So these spirits were the King’s his staff in a way. They were ignored for the time being, as they didn’t appear to be a threat.

At the very center of the room was the throne itself, adorned in gold, vines and sunflowers decorating the seat. There were ancient symbols here, ones neither one of them could understand. This kingdom was unique, and it would be foolish to assume that even in Alexander’s massive library, there would be anything on these designs. Statues lined along the walls, giving the whole room a beautiful, but regal setting.

Not like the frozen throne that flashed no more than a split second. That’s in the past.

Her feet carried her closer to the throne, her fingers tracing over the symbols, as well as the soft texture of the sunflowers’ petals. They were old, but somehow still full of life. A shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention. There, in the center seat was a crown. Golden… decorated in jewels.

Her name echoed from what felt like every surface in the room. She found her fingers laced over the top of the piece. This had to be the Divine King’s crown yes? Why then were they chanting as if she were meant to take it? How could she? Was it just part of the game… or were they tempting her? It was a role unfitting for her, one she’d never want.

She never deserved a crown upon her head… she didn’t even deserve to be here in the first place.

It was becoming unbearable. Too many voices buzzing around in one spot. Silence them.

The beast pushed herself to her feet, leaving the crown in its place. She couldn’t take it, and she dared not to look back at the reactions of the spirits pushing her to make her choice. Their hums filled her ears as she walked towards the staircase in the back of the room. She’d noticed it briefly before other things had called her attention.

“I thought you said you were going to take a methodical approach to this exploration thing.”

And I am.

“You’re going up a flight of stairs.”

Look, the upper floors are bound to be fewer than the ground level, so I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom. That still keeps the methodical approach in mind.

“Whatever you say dear.”

He faded into the background again, just as another shine caught her eye. They’d been scanning around the area as she had her internal conflict. Every room could hold something important, even the staircases, so best to see if there was anything that looked out of place or unordinary. What she’d managed to find was a… pin? It was golden in color, but nothing around here showed any hint as to what this might have gone to.

Or at least, nothing did until she had gone up a few more steps.

There were more of those spirits there, a white pillar towering over their smaller forms. They were trying to pick up some smaller objects along the ground with their… what she could only assume were hands. That made her raise an eyebrow. Weren’t they spirits? Could they not pick up anything regardless of the item’s size? Were the ‘rules’ here really that specific? A soft sigh passed through her lips, gathering two more pins to go with the one she’d already found.

Her hand seemed to hover over the gem resting with them. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary gem… but looks could always be deceiving. Even he knew that. He’d probably have her move on from here, untrusting of something that honestly looked similar to a prison of his own.

How he hated his time trapped in that tiny crystal.

Thankfully they were not alone. Surely these spirits could understand her, and therefore answer a simple question, "That gem. Is it dangerous?"

A shake of their heads. With that confirmed, she took it into her arms.

There was one little other tidbit of information the spirits had spilled: His Majesty would be rather upset if he found out they were irresponsible and dropped it on accident.

That in itself seemed so… out of character. Granted, it’s not like the man wasn’t capable of getting mad, but rather it seemed silly to get upset over an item like this. It was just by itself, and on display… and it wasn’t dangerous. Well, if that was the case, might as well help out.

“Oh yes, let’s waste some time worrying over a little display rather than continuing on our way.”

And like most of his backseat commentary, she ignored that comment.

The spirits offered no help, but it seemed simple enough to figure out. There were three pins, two gold and one silver, with the silver one being longer than the gold ones. Ok, so it made sense then that the two gold ones would go near one another. The silver one must be like a support pin for the gem, which would leave the smaller ones being used to hold it up. It didn’t take long to put everything in place. She stood back from her work…

Only to be showered in confetti… Now where did that come from?

She just went with it, ignoring the snickering echoing in her head.

"Well, at least the display is fixed. Probably don't want to leave this laying around for the Divine to find hmm?"

As if one could sense this, it had made the proper cleaning items appear, working on the mess. Meanwhile, the other one had another plan. It had dropped something in her lap… a key? No clue as to what it had gone, just left with her before they disappeared. Guess that was her cue to leave, but not before she made one final remark.

A waste of time was this?

“Hush mutt.”

The key was tucked away into one of the pockets on her shorts, making her way to the top of the stairs. Just as she got there, a voice made her look back the way she came. There was… someone younger coming towards her, with… white hair? She crossed her arms, “Might want to watch where you are going unless you want to trip, or run into someone."

That advice largely went ignored, the stranger coming to her. She held a flower in her hands, one that was offered to her, "For you! Everybody gets a flower!"

"Alright? Thanks?"

And with that she was on her way. That was…

“Strange? Unprompted? Odd? Take your pick.” She shook her head, taking the flower as she tucked it behind her ear. Might as well keep the small gift that was offered to her. Finally, she could get back to the path she’d begun once her first foot hit the stairs. There were hallways, but there had to be another staircase around that would lead her to the top floor. She can check the rooms on this floor when she was done on the upper level.

Sure enough, she found what she was looking for. Nothing caught her eyes this time, though the sound of windchimes in the air filled her ears. She closed her eyes, listening to the calming tune.

It’s almost peaceful here.

“Don’t let your guard down. There’s no telling what will happen.”

I know.

What stretched out before them was a balcony, three separate areas to choose from. Yes, this would make for easier searching, then she could return to the second floor. There were only three rooms, and if they were hidden this far up, there had to be some secrets kept here. Items of mystery and value, although cliché, were usually in a basement, or on the highest floor. The same seemed to ring true here. She had her options laid before her, though one room in particular drew her attention towards it. A calling perhaps? She’d gotten feelings like this before, so it wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

Salena pushed the door open, her gaze falling on a sword. Magic seemed to pulse off it, a light glow surrounding it as she stepped into the room. From what she could tell, the sword was made by an expert. She had a specialty in crafting weapons herself, but there was power radiating off this one, even if it was stuck in stone. There were… runic symbols? Something carved along the blade itself. This certainly put a fair amount of her work to shame.

A voice echoed softly around her.

Such A Furry Little Face....You Have Come So Far, Haven't You, Dear One?

...

Tell me...Are You Worthy?

Worthy? There was an easy answer to that, yet instead of answering with that response she stepped closer, "Worthy.. that in itself is a very vague question. Worthy of what? Of the blade before me? Of the Divine's blessing should I win? To win? I could go on.."

Worthy Of Whatever You Feel You Are Worthy Of...I Am Merely A Weapon To Be Used By Whoever Finds Me. I Shall Carry Out Whatever You Feel Worthy Of, Whatever Means That Much To You.

A sword in a stone. It was here because it was meant to be pulled out by someone yes? Someone worthy from the sound of it. So then why was she wrapping her hand around the hilt as if she thought she might be able to pull it out?

"And what if I believe that I'm not truly worthy of anything?"

Then You May Choose The Path Of Unworthiness. It Is A Painful Route To Take, Dear One.

A tingle of what felt like static sparked under her fingers. A sense of panic began to wash over her, “Let go of the blade.”

That just made her grip it tighter. Teeth grit together, ears pinning back against her head, a slightly strained voice released from her mouth, "You say that as if I don't know that road. It's one I chose to walk long before I came here. I don't understand it, probably never will. How can others see worth in someone like me when I can't see it in myself?"

The static feeling began to race up her arm.

.....You Have Already Felt That Pain, Yes?

Her arm started glowing. Glowing a bright yellow that shone even from under her long sleeved clothing.

“Salena! Let go of the damn sword!”

None of them noticed the sword come out a few inches.

You Must Learn To Find That Self Worth, Then. So Many Here See You As A Good Friend.

A snarl ruptured from her throat, a familiar pain shooting through her arm. She knew this feeling, the hairs starting to smoke amongst the sea of gold. Her head was screaming at her to let go, yet for some stupid reason, she was still hanging on. Her free hand moved to the stone under her, having knelt down in front of the blade shortly before, now running her claws along them… as if that might mitigate some of the pain. She fought to get her words out, "Is it wrong that I don't understand why? There are those here that barely know me."

No Problem At All. Healing Takes Time And Work. But The Strangers Who Look At You...Do Look At You With Understanding. You Must Look Inside Your Own Heart To See The Worth That They See In You. You May Find It To Be True In The End.

More pain…

“You damn bitch! I am begging you! Let go of the damn blade!”

Her eyes widened.

Fire… Burning fire!

“Oh hell no! You are not doing this on me!”

He raced through the hallways of her mind. By now, he knew exactly which alcove was connected to which set of memories. He only needed to find the ones on ‘him’ and his followers. None of them could risk an attack coming out of the panic seeping into her very mind. The locks on the doors were cracking, wood splintering under the strain. Well, not if he could help it.

“She should just listen to me. Let go of the damn thing hurting her, but noooo. She has to be her usual stubborn self.” His hand waved, more chains crawling over the doors. That should keep them from surfacing. With any luck, she’d come to her senses before even his locks broke.

Her head pressed further into the cool metal of the blade, huffs escaping her maw. How much longer should she keep going on? No… it didn’t matter how long. Endure.

"Understanding huh...? Like me...?"

Her eyes closed, thinking back to all those in her life. Alexander. Malceum. Cassandra. Hell, even the Good Doctor himself.

What about Arthur and Vivi? She saw worth in them, and they did in her did they? These strangers she just met but might be just like her?

She opened her eyes, finally seeming to come to an internal understanding. She fought against the pain, using her free hand to push herself up from the ground, "I've always wondered what I kept fighting for... Why keep going if there was no point, that I had no worth...? I was taken in... everyone sees a worth in me that I can't... bogged down by my past sins.. my past mistakes.. But so long as I am still here, at least I have those worth keeping safe. Maybe if I can finally do just that.. I'll be able to see it for myself.. Until then..."

Her one grip on the blade tightened, knuckles probably would be white were it not only for her fur, but the constant glow shining off it, "I won't stop fighting. Maybe I'm worthy, maybe I'm not, maybe you really are right. Isn't that how it usually is sometimes? Having to be told something you should already know?"

A long silence.

You Are A Wise Woman, Indeed. Hurt By The Fate Life Has Given You...But You Have Grown To Understand A Lot Of Things.

The pain finally died away, the glow fading to reveal her normal fur… or at least normal save for the slight black marks on the end, tiny wisps of smoke, and the irritated red of burns see running across her skin. A calm breeze passed around her form, her arm trembling roughly from the trial she endured.

Ah, Yes. I See...I Understand...Well. Aside From That. I Only Pray Life Gets Better For You From Here On Out, Madam Salena. But I Am Impressed With How You Manage Through Your Troubles.

Even with the pain gone, her hand still refused to let go of the hilt; although, she did manage to crack a smile, "How can I do anything else? Anything to ensure I don't lose what I have left to hold onto. I hope that you may find someone worthy of you."

A selfless lady, indeed. I could not be any prouder, even if we just met.

A sentient weapon? Proud of her? It really shouldn’t be… but who was she to try and convince it otherwise?

The echoing voice giggles around her, About that worthiness.... 

...

I think I already have a few choices.

From there, the sword sank back into the stone, silence surrounding her. Her hand released its grip, allowing her to stagger over to the closest wall. No way she was going anywhere else for a little while. Her uninjured arm clinged to the other one, stinging racing through her entire side. Her back pressed against the stone, lowering herself down. The sword shouldn’t mind if she rested here for a while.

And then on cue, a frustrated voice rang in her head.

“I can’t believe you! Actually no, scratch that. I can believe you would do something as stupid as this! It’s light magic! You know what that does to you! I told you to fucking stop, but as always, you don’t want to listen to me. I don’t know why I stay with you half the time when you do things like this! Oh right, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t have a willing host. This game just started and look at what you’ve done day one. Not looking good for-”

Alastair…

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Alastair please…

“What the fuck do you want?”

Do you think I’m worthy?

He fell silent for a short while before the voice came back, “Worthy of what?”

Anything.

“I think that if you weren’t worthy of something, you wouldn’t have a home… a family, a husband, people that care about you… shall I go on?”

I asked for your opinion, not what those in my life might think.

An audible sigh, “Look dear, I can’t give you all the answers. It’s just as the hunk of metal told you. It’s kind of something you have to answer for yourself.”

She fell to silence. There was another sigh, “Come on, you need to rest. Once you have, we need to get your arm treated. Just, close your eyes and sleep, I’ll take care of your nightmares.”

Thank you…

“Yeah yeah, just rest.”

Her eyes closed, head leaning back against the stone wall. In the darkness, a presence was felt. Golden looked upon her for a brief moment before fading back into nothingness.

What an interesting first day.

---

((Cameo appearances from: The Divine King / @diviinc, Vivi / @viviskull, Arthur / @punsandfuturekingsmen, Lament / @lamentinglewis, Jun / @thetownfarmer))