#as per usual cause i never change the color scheme

[princessponies81]

i was gonna update my icon anyways cause i’ve had my old one since like 2016 so we’re Mishapocalypsing today. i somehow missed it the first time because i was in the one corner of tumblr it did not reach and I refuse to miss it again

[fictionbyafangirl]

Tundric Heart

//Hi, all! After becoming absolutely *obsessed* with the new Mortal Kombat movie, as well as being a fan since the games began, and being a fan of JoTa since I saw The Raid: Redemption when it first came out and since then, I decided my flagship fic shall involve Bi-Han/Sub-Zero. This takes place prior to the film, having nine tournaments been fought. This is a POV-shifter and involves our favorite chilly boi with an original character. Naturally, I own no rights to the franchised character and only write out of my own fun.  I hope you enjoy!\\

Nothing phased him anymore. Bi-Han had lived many centuries, each reinforcing his growing lack of humanity toward the world, whether it be Earthrealm or Outworld. Due to his “gifts”, Bi-Han had become a favorite champion for Shang Tsung in the Mortal Kombat tournaments, successful in more than not and ultimately becoming an attack dog at the sorcerer's will. Despite Bi-Han wanting the Lin Keui to be free-agents once again, himself, primarily, he obliged, knowing he owed Shang Tsung his fealty for the many favors he performed for him in the past. The Lin Keui had been an elite group of assassins for those who could afford them. Either born into the organization or kidnapped as a youngling for the cause, its numbers were always plentiful. Bi-Han and his brother, Kuai Liang, had served the clan well, rising through the ranks. Bi-Han, though, had become the face of the group. The fierce fighter had gained notoriety for defeating the one and only Hanzo Hasashi, as well as the Shirai Ryu, a noble competitor clan in their world of crime. Over four hundred years had passed, yet a looming whisper of a threat still hung in the air from the very fatality that put Bi-Han on the map. Ever the paranoid ruler, Tsung tasked Bi-Han with finding the last remaining Hasashi blood heir and executing them. To the cryomancer, there was simply no point in doing so. He had ended the lineage himself many lifetimes ago. The Hasashi family fell to his hand, and he knew it, first-hand. Still, the soul-eater feared the prophecy of the uprising of Earthrealm defenders to thwart the imminent takeover, if the last tournament should be victoriously won by the mortals with an arcana gift. Nine circuits had been finished in the favor of Tsung, only needing two more to claim supremacy over the mortals. Begrudgingly, Bi-Han found himself in his home-realm on a reconnaissance mission to find out if the myth was true. One thing the warrior loathed was to be undermined, especially by Tsung. His employer had a knack for sending in the reinforcements if the smallest of setbacks occurred. Bi-Han was more than confident in his skill and ability to successfully fulfill his duties. To send in those that were inferior to him was simply a slap in the face. Not a day went by that the assassin didn’t think of a world where he no longer served Tsung.

The man was ageless as he sat across from a run-down diner, concealed in darkness. Darkness had always been his friend, even in the glory days of the Lin Kuei and the chaos they inflicted on their world. Darkness cloaked him in secrecy. Darkness gave him advantage against his opponents. Darkness felt almost as familiar and second nature to him as the cold. It had been a rainy evening, the spray of dingy gutter water spraying up from beneath the tires of those driving muddled the sidewalk. Bi-Han, looking not a single day older than he had when he terminated Hasashi, watched the neon sign that indicated that the diner was “open” flicker against the night. Dressed in black athletic jogger pants, a black zipped-up windbreaker jacket and a black hat with the bill curved and pulled down low to conceal his other-worldly eyes, the man watched from outside an abandoned building that sat adjacent to the diner. Arguably, the only physical trait that had changed about him was the hue of his eyes, shifting from a deep brown to a starkly bright  blue so pale that it nearly looked like ice had formed in his irises. These were the attributes of a cryomancer, and bastard Edenians, alike. Those of Edenian nature aged much slower than humans, living so long that tens of thousands of years was still considered to be in one’s youth. His hair remained raven in color though his skin did grow more pallid as though encrusted in frost, but not. The cryomancers had been banished from Edenia long before Bi-Han’s birth, but the genes that descended from the gods still carried on through himself and his brother, Kuai. Down the block, a group of young men were approaching the corner door of the diner, rowdy and raucous as they walked before ducking into the establishment. Taped hands rose from Bi-Han’s sides to bring the hood of his skim jacket up and over the top of his head, further obscuring his identity. He waited a few minutes to allow them to settle into their normal places to not rouse suspicion before crossing the slick city street. In all of the years of Bi-Han’s life, he had tuned his tracking abilities to be imperceptible.

His intel told him that a group of men, one that bore the mark of the dragon, frequented the very location nightly, as though a ritual amongst the friends. Bi-Han’s head never lifted as the bell on the handle of the door jingled to alert a new customer, and luckily, neither did theirs. His gaze remained to the lower-half of the room to not allow his face to be seen. The fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling in panels glared harshly in contrast against the natural darkness of the night he had waited in. Slipping into a corner table, the plastic-covered stuffing of the seat gave out a subtle hissed as it depressed beneath his weight. The group of men continued their merry occasion, joking and talking with elevated volume. The more attention they brought to themselves and detracted from himself, the better. It didn't take long for the waitress on shift to approach them, seemingly having a report with them as she used their names, engaging in banter with them as they shamelessly flirted with her. Her kind and clever rebuffs and deflection to their order inquiries showed that this was an occasional thing they did. She clearly wasn’t in the business of seeing any of them casually, yet they pushed the envelope with hope. Their nonchalance toward her left little disgust in Bi-Han’s mouth, but still, he surveyed. The fighter spared a moment to take in the new environment. The faded color scheme and furniture showed that the restaurant had not updated in some time, clearly struggling financially to keep afloat to bother with aesthetics. The tables were uneven as they stood and the seating creaked under pressure. The artwork that laid scarcely among the walls were drab and unappealing. Virtually everything that had been a polished metal before now rusted with weak infrastructure. The location was dying out, most likely kept in business by the nightly patronage of the subjects he followed in. 

Bi-Han focused all of his senses on the men, discreetly, as to not be noticed. He eavesdropped on their conversations, watched as they removed their outer-layers for any sign of the marking. He even committed bits of things they said to memory in the off-chance that it would aid him in his mission. His focus was solely on the group and everything they did. His gaze, though hidden beneath the bill of a hat, was fixated without any breaks, that is, until the image of an apron filled with pens and order tablets slid into his view. Bi-Han held his breath as the tell-tale spiel was about to be given to him. 

“Hi, there! I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. My name’s Jill and I’ll be your waitress on duty tonight. What can I get you?” No matter where you went, every restaurant had the same, generic greeting. 

Holding his breath for a moment to consider his response, Bi-Han decided to play it cool, not wanting to garner any awareness of his existence. The woman was polite enough for him to not care about the disruption. While she had been tending to the object of his assignment he had been able to get a good look over on her. She was attractive with cream-like skin and smoky hazel eyes and hair the color of maple that sat in delicate, loose curls that cascaded down the sides of her face. She dressed semi-comfortably in a baggy button-up flannel shirt that she tucked into the waistband of her tapered jeans that clung to her ankles and simple shoes with her apron and a name badge in place. She kept her makeup natural and modest, which was a pleasant thing to come across with women. With an errant hand, Bi-Han, without tipping his face at all, flipped the menu on the table over to quickly peruse the refreshments section. Quickly, his eyes settled on his selection before speaking it aloud to her, though in a low, hushed tone.

“Green tea. Iced.” His tone was short and cold, as per usual with him, and he offered no opportunity to continue the conversation. He was there for a reason, after all.

With a curt nod, Jill fished a dense book of ordering tickets from her apron and a pen to scribble down the table number and order to keep her tabs in-line. Bi-Han could hear the sound of the ball-point pen against the paper, attuning himself to his surrounding once more.

“Iced green tea, coming right up. What’s uh… a name I can put on this order?” The waitress inquired with an arched brow as her teeth found the corner of her lips, nibbling gently in a nervous gesture. Bi-Han took another moment to contemplate his response. His true, given name was something that was well-known. Instead, he improvised.

“Brian.” He was blunt again, cutting to the chase without any inflection to invite casual conversation.

“Right. Iced green tea for Brian, coming right up.” Jill relayed before bouncing away from the table to fulfill his request. She caught on to his tone quickly and read it loud and clear.

Naturally his order was the first one to be completed. Jill returned with his drink in-hand, along with a wrapped straw and a saucer of potential add-ins for the beverage. Bi-Han offered a small nod to thank her, fixating his senses back on the group of men across the room. Absently, he unwrapped the straw and slipped it within the glass, taking absent sips through it to not reveal his face. The preparation in the States certainly didn’t do the authentic drink justice as it did in his native China, but still he managed to swallow it down as he kept his eyes on them. Although the drink had ice in it, it didn’t suit him. His hand reached around the cylinder, his fingers releasing their icy powers to chill it even further, finally making it satisfactory to his liking. Bi-Han sat with his back pressed against the glass window that separated himself from the outside world. The rain continued to fall, pelting against the window pane. He could just as easily end the waiting and watching. He could turn every plunging bead of water into a lethal bullet to litter all of the men in holes, taking care of every lead. Still, he blended into the foreground, motionless and silent.  He wasn’t sure how long the men would lounge in the diner but he would be observing for as long as they would be. Someone was bound to slip and reveal themselves, reveal their arcana… something. If Bi-Han was anything, he was patient.

[wishingnova]

Okay I’m seriously working on the next chap but look at this gem I found when I was trying to figure out the plot/direction of TCaF

At your look, she rolled her eyes. “Oh come now __________. You had a fairy as a mother, and her blood runs thick through you. You don’t really think a simple bonk like that would have erased the Prince’s memories completely, do you?” She smiled, putting her hand under her chin.

               Of course not. Even from the first moment you laid eyes on Fishsti- Sidon, you could tell he had been enchanted. But you had thought it was a folly he had brought upon himself – something princes or princesses usually have happen to them in all the old tales for doing something foolish to a more powerful being. “You’re saying that…someone purposely erased his memories.”

               Kaysa chortled. “Well, not purposely, per se!” Then she became graver. “I suspect that they had intended to kill the Prince entirely. Their spell merely missed, or was only strong enough to kill his sense of identity. And because of your interference, even that did not play out!”

               Your breathing became ragged. Because this meant not only was Sidon still not safe, but someone would still be trying to kill him. Your grip on your hook tightened to the point of the wood creaking. “Kaysa, who did it? You must tell me!”

               The Great Fairy gazed at you sadly. “I am sorry, child. My power is great, but this one’s power is…different. Ancient, even. They hide themselves from mine and my sister’s view. Though, it does seem that they do not know yet how to wield it properly.”

               “Wield it prop…” you shook your head. You had to think. “I have to go back to him. His kingdom is still in danger if he is in danger.”

               The Fairy sighed. “And you are right with that. My sisters and I have been feeling this disturbance ever since Prince Sidon was found again. Whoever enchanted him is not pleased that their plan did not work out.”

               “Then why not try to kill him again?” You swallowed thickly. You didn’t understand. If this supposed sorcerer was displeased by Sidon’s return, why was he still alive? Your eyes searched the ground as if the answer would sprout from it. “…Wait.” Your eyes squinted. “When Sidon was first struck…he was fighting a beast that was threatening a village. That was when the sorcerer tried to off him. He or she tried to make it look like…like it was an accident.”

               Kaysa smiled as you began figuring it out. You always were a bright little fae. “Indeed. And why would they do that?” She prompted.

               You laughed bitterly. It was too obvious. “So that they could not be found! If they found Sidon with markings of foul play, especially from a magic wielder, the kingdom would be in a tizzy finding who murdered their beloved prince!” Your teeth ground together. “And King Dorephan would be left a lone monarch with no more heirs to lead in his stead. The sorcerer could either off him or…simply wait for Dorephan to pass. And with his grief, Dorephan would surely have passed much more quickly had Sidon not been found. The scheming little –“

               “Politics are always messy, aren’t they.” Kaysa sighed. “It is obvious that whoever is behind this assassination attempt is trying to either come into power themselves, or be rid of the Zora Kingdom altogether. I’m more inclined to the former, from my vast experience.”

               You shook your head. Your hand held your mask as your brain raced to find answers to more and more questions. “But why? Why the Zoras? Hyrule is already in tatters and being rebuilt by Zelda – slowly. Why not try for that kingdom?” Why come after my Sidon? You asked sullenly.

               And the Great Fairy sighed, the flowers around her Fountain swaying with her breath. “That is also something that is hidden from me. Mortals and their reasonings have always boggled me, if I’m being honest.” She clapped her hands suddenly. “Well! What shall we do then, my dear? Shall we return you to your forest, to live with the Koroks in peace, with no care for the outside world?” She leaned down closer, a knowing smile on her pretty lips. “Or shall we do something about this, and save our Fishsticks in distress?”

               You stared at her. Gripped your hook. Sighed. “But how? If I return to the kingdom, I will be the fish out of water. The sorcerer will not need magic to see a Hylian fae wondering around the Domain. I will be captured, or killed, if not immediately then soon. And Sidon – and the kingdom – will be at their mercy.” You shook your head, feeling defeated. “I will need time to find them if they can hide even from your sight.”

               “And I shall give you the time you need, child.” Her hands rubbed together. Sparkles began falling out from them, silvery and purple and blue. She rubbed them faster and faster, until it seemed a whole waterfall of magic light was pouring out of them. You edged away, suddenly worried. What in the name of Hylia was she doing?

               “This will last you quite a while, ________. Do not be careless, though. My magic is powerful, but should the sorcerer suspect and use their magic to reveal you, your guise will break, and you will be exposed. Arms out!” And she opened her hands and blew at you. An entire cloud of magic dust spread throughout the clearing, with only your startled yelp rising up out of it.

               The cloud cleared within a few moments. You coughed, feeling magic going up your nose like water. “Kaysa, what on Hyrule –“ you adjusted your mask and gripped your staff. “What – I need a warning! Honestly…” You shook out your cloak, mumbling heatedly about boundaries as you patted out dust clouds of lingering magic.

               But you stopped. Were the clouds still lingering? Why did…why did your skin look a different color? You held it up to your eye holes, gasping as you saw not your skin, but scales, of a beautiful color covering your hand and arm. You raised up your other hand, and saw that it was the same as the other. What happened next was the quickest pat down of your life. You lifted your cloak, looked under your skirts: scaled and smooth fish legs stared back. The claws at the end of your toes curled inward as you began to panic. You reached under the back of your shirt, feeling smooth scales there, as well as a couple of fins that draped long down your back. “Kaysa,” you squealed, “What did you do?!”

               Kaysa had been watching your discovery with a sparkly-eyed smile. “Oh, I do apologize for the scare dear, but this was the only way I could think of helping!” Her hands flew out to her sides. “Ta-da!”

               “You made me a Zora.” You felt scandalized. Imposed upon. “Why?!”

               She sighed, tilting her head. “I thought it would be obvious. The sorcerer will not see you coming if you are one of the Zora. Especially if they are a Zora themselves – much more trustworthy than a strange fae coming into the kingdom unannounced.”

               Well that…that does make sense. But still… “The Zora are a close race, Kaysa.” You looked up at her. “They know of everyone in their domain. They will surely notice a new face in their home, regardless of the race.”

               “Ah, but that is where you are wrong, for once.” She winked. “Ever since Calamity Ganon’s banishment, many new faces have been appearing across the land: the descendants or old inhabitants of Hyrule who left when Ganon first struck. Many Zora are returning from the sea, where the more cowardly ones fled. They have heard that the land is no longer in danger of being consumed, and are deciding to return.”

               So I can pose as one of them. Again, it made sense. A lot more sense than any plan you would have come up with. Your hands laid on your sides as you looked at the Fairy. “Okay…so I just…sneak into the kingdom as one of the Zora, find the sorcerer, kill them, and return back here.” You breathed. Your heart fluttered at the thought of being so close to Sidon again. “I must make sure that Sidon does not know who I am – he could ruin it with his excitement.” He would not understand.

               “Come here dear. Take off that mask of yours – it will do you no good there.” She waved kindly to get you moving. Slowly, you did. You came to her fountain, staring at her large hand outstretched. Your hands moved to your mask, hesitating when they touched it. The mask…it had been your defense for so long. To take it off…

               Kaysa leaned down to be eye-to-eye. “Your powers have been stoppered for yours and others’ safety, but you are ready to leave it behind. You have never been ugly, ________. No matter what others have seen, you have always been as beautiful as your mother. I will keep the mask in my care until you have need of it again.” When you still made no move to remove it, she changed tactics. “If you keep the mask, it will make you more suspicious. You are doing this for Sidon, remember.”

               When the mask touched her hand, it glowed a lavender-white before fizzling away into nothing. Kaysa nodded in approval, then smiled kindly. “Oh my dear. You have always been so beautiful, and even now, your beauty will rival that of the late Mipha. Look!”

               You hesitated. The words monster, beast, demon echoed in your head. But you had learned from Sidon that you had to keep moving forward. So you did. You crouched by Kaysa’s side, and forced yourself to look into the reflection of your face. It wavered, quivered, then cleared. And you gasped. “Oh…” you were beautiful. You really were. The fins by your head, on your head, the color of your scales and how they went beautifully with your eyes… “Oh…” you said again, with tears in your eyes.

               A much larger face joined yours in your reflection. “Now you see the beauty of fairy blood. The mask was also meant to protect poor, unsuspecting men from foolishly falling in love with such unattainable beauty. They tend to do stupid things in the face of fairies. It is what caused the passing of your mother, after all.” Kaysa looked saddened in the water. The loss of a fairy was always great in the world, whether she was Great or small. But she had brought the gift of you into it as a replacement, and Kaysa smiled. “Now you can use both that beauty and your magic to your advantage.”

               “…Thank you, Kaysa.” You sobbed, and flung your arms as wide as they could go around her middle, splashing in the water. Her hand laid on your back, and she felt your panic, your despair, at what trial you faced ahead.

               “I will not leave you alone, child. My sister Cortera is near the Domain. She will more than happily help you in whatever you find need of.

----

               She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I do so love that Prince of yours, how could I sit idly by?” She smiled. “It has been far too long since we’ve had a good fairy tale happen, hasn’t it?”

               You smiled and shook your head. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t end in tragedy.”

               “Love your optimism, dear.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN DRUGLIKE

Foreword to Jessica Livingston's Founders at Work. You may not have to go back seven paragraphs and start over in another direction. When friends came back from faraway places, it wasn't just out of politeness that I asked what they saw. Imagine what Apple was like when 100% of its employees were either Steve Jobs or Steve Wozniak. Hacker culture often seems kind of irresponsible.1 I can't tell, even now. Certainly schools should teach students how to write. One group got an exploding term-sheet from some VCs. What kept him going? And I can see why political incorrectness would be a momentous change—big enough, probably, to justify a name like the new model spread rapidly. The reason to launch early, to understand your users.

Though the immediate cause of death in a startup, it pays to offer customer service on a level that wouldn't scale, because it's easier than satisfying them. Sun's future. Sun's business model is a down elevator. There are two bad smelling words, color spammers love colored fonts and California which occurs in testimonials and also in menus in forms, but they are not enough to stop the mail from being spam. Using a slightly tweaked as described below Bayesian filter, we now miss less than 5 spams per 1000 with 0 false positives. It's very easy for people to switch to a new search engine. I just wanted to keep people from getting spammed. Of all the great programmers I can think of who don't work for Sun, on Java, I know of only one who would voluntarily program in Java. That, it turned out. Sun servers for industrial strength applications. It was a way of hacking the investment process.

Could there be a connection?2 Make something great and put it online. A lot went wrong, as usually happens with startups. Among other things, this would be one of them, because with our help they could make money. Maybe the people in charge of the taxi line. But those are also commodities, which can be handed off to some lieutenant. The winners slow down the least. There were a lot of small, inexpensive computers before the Mac. That makes sense, because there are a lot of nasty little ones. In the old economy, the high cost of presenting information to people meant they had only a narrow range of options to choose from. As Fred Brooks pointed out, small groups are intrinsically more productive, because the internal friction in a group grows as the square of the environment. At one point in this essay I found that after following a certain thread I ran out of ideas.

This is another lesson the world has yet to learn.3 It's like telling the truth. G b 5 max.4 What you want is to increase response rates. Dartmouth, the University of Vermont, Amherst, and University College, London taught English literature in the 1820s. A few weeks ago I was walking in some steep mountains once, and decided I'd rather just think, if I could only keep one.5 That's why people proposing to destroy it use phrases like adult supervision. For example, the question the hackers have all been wondering about that. If someone in my neighborhood heard that I was looking for an old Raleigh three-speed in good condition, and sent me an email offering to sell me one, I'd be delighted, and yet this email would be both commercial and unsolicited. I started writing this.6

For me, interesting means surprise. Likewise, the reason we hear about Java as part of a century to establish that central planning didn't work.7 Hard as it is to double all the numbers in good. Unfortunately that makes this email a boring example of the use of Bayes' Rule. Though actually there is something druglike about them, in the unlikely absence of any other evidence, have a 99. When I was in college in the mid-1980s, nerd was still an insult. Equity is the fuel that drives technical innovation. For example, Y Combinator has now invested in 80 startups, 57 of which are still alive. This essay is derived from a talk at the 2008 Startup School. And as soon as these startups got the money, what did they do with it is enormous.

I found myself talking recently to someone from Hollywood who was planning a show about nerds. You grow big by being mean. 05214485 i'm 0. If you throw them out, you find they often behaved like nonprofits.8 This time the evidence is a mix of good and bad.9 What made it not a Ponzi scheme was that it was unintentional.10 Don't worry too much about making money. If you throw them out, you find that good products do tend to win in the market. They don't want to bet the company on Betamax. Why risk it?11

I'm advocating: filter each user's mail based on a corpus of my mail. When I was in college I used to think that whitelists would make filtering easier, because you'd only have to filter email from people you'd never heard from, and someone sending you mail for the first time during the Bubble robbed their companies by granting themselves options doesn't mean options are a bad idea.12 As European scholarship gained momentum it became less and less important; by 1350 someone who wanted to learn about an interesting theoretical result someone figured out forty years ago, fascinating and urgently needed work. I admire most are not, on the whole, captivated by Java. I need to talk the matter over. There's a whole essay's worth of surprises there for sure. Make something people want. Is anyone able to develop software faster than you? The mere prospect of being interrupted is enough to get into the mind of a spammer, but let's take a quick look inside the mind of a spammer, but let's take a quick look inside the mind of the spammer, and frankly I want to bias the probabilities slightly to avoid false positives, I'm talking about filtering my mail based on a corpus of my mail.13

Notes

Actually Emerson never mentioned mousetraps specifically.

Since the remaining power of Democractic party machines, but its value was as a company if the quality of investor who merely seems like he will fund you, however, is he going to eat a sheep in the sense of a startup you have two choices and one kind that's called into being to commercialize a scientific discovery. This doesn't mean easy, of the problem to fit your solution.

The optimal way to do it mostly on your thesis.

As a friend with small children, or even why haven't you already built this way that weren't visible in the same work, the effort that would help Web-based applications. I'm using these names as we walked out we ran into Muzzammil Zaveri, and as we are at some of those things that's not the primary cause. And at 98%, as they do the opposite way as part of their pitch. Many will consent to b rather than trying to work in research too.

The point of a startup or going to do is leave them alone in the services, companies that seem promising can usually get enough money from mediocre investors almost all do, but sword thrusts. You have to mean the hypothetical people who want to figure this out. No big deal.

I'm pathologically optimistic about people's ability to solve a lot of legal business.

According to a super-angel than a product, just monopolies they create rather than lose a prized employee. What will go away, and that he had to for some students to get market price if they used FreeBSD and stored their data in files too.

The idea of what's valuable is least likely to be a good chance that a skilled vine-dresser was worth about 125 to 150 drachmae.

Acquirers can be times when what you're doing. VCs play such games, books, newspapers, or to be spread out geographically. I have no idea what's happening till they also influence one another, it was cooked up, but he refused because a quiet, earnest place like Cambridge will one day have an email being spam. Teenagers don't tell 5 year olds the truth.

But you're not convinced that what you're working on filtering at the time quantum for hacking is very polite and b made brand the dominant factor in the construction industry. This argument seems to have been seen mentioning the possibility. Some professors do create a Demo Day pitch, the computer world recognize who that is not one of the 2003 season was 4.

The real danger is that the valuation of the reasons startups are competitive like running, not the shape that matters here but the distribution of alms, and mostly in good ways.

If you have to find may be useful in cases where VCs don't invest, regardless of what investment means; like any investor, lest that set an impossibly high target when raising additional money. You won't always get a good product. It is just feigning interest—until you get nothing.

The empirical evidence suggests that if the selection process looked for different reasons. Exercise for the others to act through subordinates. There is something there worth studying, especially if you were doing Bayesian filtering in a world in which YC can help in deciding what to do that.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 18/?

University AU: “Negative Space”

[ok so, self projection is a bitch, but I am petty to myself on a regular basis so it’s ok]

[title is from the Japanese concept “ma”, which Wikipedia describes as:

“a Japanese word which can be roughly translated as ‘gap’, ‘space’, ‘pause’ or ‘the space between two structural parts.’ In traditional Japanese arts and culture, ma is more carefully defined as the suggestion of an interval. It is best described as a consciousness of a sense of place, with the ‘intervals’ suggested often being more than simple gaps, instead focusing on the intention of a negative space in an art piece.

Ma is not necessarily an art concept created by compositional elements, such as the literal existence of a negative space. Instead, the intention is often to create the perception of an interval in the viewer experiencing the elements forming an art piece, making maless reliant on the existence of a gap, and more closely related to the perceived experience of a gap.

Ma has also been described as ‘an emptiness full of possibilities, like a promise yet to be fulfilled’, and as ‘the silence between the notes which make the music’.”

Fun fact: “ma” also means “but” in Italian, which is what usually follows whatever intrusive thought may plague my mind. Eg: “I may be useless now, BUT just you wait until I get some dopamine to get me through this shitty times.”]

*

Wei Ying never asked for much in his life. He’s content with cleaning classrooms and toilets and nobody can beat him at wiping the marble floors if he works hard enough. Granny Wen, his supervisor, is slightly impressed with his ability to make the wood shine for ages to come. His nephew Jin Ling sometimes comes to check on him when he’s done with senior classes or cram school in the evening, and together they sit down and listen to whatever his older friends in music production came up with during the day. Jiang Cheng occasionally would ask him to keep him company while he grades papers and they bitch about ZiXuan and his inability to dote on their sister. The cafeteria ladies are always nice to him and they give him extra congee because they worry for his questionable consumption of spice products.

He’s fine, really.

So why can’t he stop wandering over to the science building these days? Looking for a clean board to use, for an equation to finally solve? Even if in the end he just takes the chalk in hand and simply stares down at the inky surface in front of him, unable to write. His mind working on a software too advanced for the hardware that constitutes his brain.

Thirteen years. It has been already thirteen years and yet it feels like yesterday, or like it never happened at all. Like it has yet to be. Time blindness is a bitch to deal with, yet dyscalculia and ADHD makes a joke out of you when you love math on a visceral level... but you burned too bright too fast and now you function on no data and with an even shittier signal. Having a burnout at 23 should have taught him humility instead of pride, but Wei Ying has always worked out of spite and certain habits are difficult to forget.

Couldn’t put the number in the right order, switching digits left and right since he was young? Fine. Numbers were concepts anyway, entire civilizations working their magic without even knowing what “zero” stood for. A brain steaming with a million ideas per second? Good. New connections brimming with ideas he could use to better the world.

It worked fine until he let himself down. Until he became a useless empty lighter, a wet match tossed out, carbon monoxide in the air.

Dropped out before finishing his very ambitious, highly dangerous for his psyche, thesis project. Aunt Yu never forgave him for that, not after paying for his advanced classes, not after trusting Uncle Jiang and supporting him despite his many flaws. What good is being first of your class every year, poster child of a teaching system done right, graduating bachelor at 21, if you can’t finish your master at 23 and get your PhD at 25 and start teaching by 27 and drive yourself insane in the process?

Wei Ying dropped out and didn’t finish his master, didn’t enroll in the teaching program, and let everyone down. His Uncle and Aunt looking down on him, whether out of pity or shame. Jiang Cheng may have been the one leaving him behind, but he used to be the one saying “you should have tried harder”. YanLi worrying over him when she should have focused on her career first. Jin Ling growing up with stories of his uncle “not being worth the money put into his education”, taught to not disappoint and make his family proud. The Jin side, that is.

And now the kid comes crawling in defeat to him instead of Jiang Cheng after bombing a test in high school. And they chat of what he would like to do and how much he likes sports and how much he despises the idea of getting a scholarship for that and being called stupid or something by his classmates. And he cries when he thinks Wei Ying cannot see him as he leaves the campus late at night.

Wei Ying didn’t even want to solve that impossible theorem he fixated on in his early twenties. His thesis project was inconsequential in the great scheme of things and his professor only wanted him to be his one trick pony in the end. No. Wei Ying wanted to teach math in elementary school, hell... even in kindergarten. He wanted to change the approach to the subject. Because numbers cannot be taught like language is and there are many ways to teach how to sum up digits and divide quantities and there are no rules on how to make sense of space either.

But how can he teach when even time eludes his senses?

Something that nobody can define, but certainly most perceive as linear... but not him. Not since his brain fried up in his attempt to function like a normal human being.

After thirteen years nothing has changed.

Until one day he hears something else aside from his usual intrusive thoughts and burdensome memories. A melody so quiet he almost mistakes it for the wind, coming from the music building.

He walks slowly, night surrounding him like the embrace of a friend as he makes his way to the traditional musical instruments room. The one where Jin Ling’s friends meet sometimes as they wait for the younger boy to join them. Wei Ying holds his breath as he spies through the gap of the door left ajar, neon light slicing his face like moonbeams as he peeks in and recognizes Jin Ling’s friends and another figure sitting on the ground, guqin on their knees.

But before he can lean in and breathe in the vibrant sounds all around, the door opens and music theory Professor Lan finds Wei Ying clutching his mop for dear life.

They said the man could see colors within the notes, that he despises language outside of his class or office and that only his brother, the history of art TA, could convince him to talk every now and then.

If numbers were created to measure space, Wei Ying firmly believed music had been invented to make sense of time and count its seconds in rhythm and notes, pauses and beats. Yet, time seems to stretch to a stop as the janitor focuses all of his attention on professor Lan’s stern face and his heart quickens its pace.

Wei Ying takes a rushed breath and dives right in with a weird sense of hope pumping in his veins. A small, timid voice whispering that life is not made to be atoned, but to move on and grow.

One step at a time.

“I’m Wei Ying, Professor Lan. May I listen while you play?”

Yes, maybe it will be enough just to let time flow at its pace.

Whatever rhythm that may be.

*

[some hcs down below]

WWX does not magically solve the math theorem. he may or may not help kids figure out how to use numbers on the long run tho. no, he will still work as a janitor and there’s nothing wrong with that.

yes, LWJ is autistic and stimms and finds WWX’s honesty soothing. yes, you can add your hcs on the matter. he has synesthesia, but more on the grapheme-color side of the deal than anything else and he sees certain letters/numbers/notes in different colors. people think he can see colors in music, but they misunderstood and thought he could recognize different hues while listening to music instead of reading it.

JC has grown since his uni years and doesn’t resent WWX anymore. he teaches astrophysics as a TA and doesn’t pressure his brother to pick his studies up anymore. WWX has mixed feelings about this: he feels he’s a lost cause, to the point not even his brother spurs him to best himself anymore, but he is grateful for the patience anyway.

LXC is the official LWJ translator of the campus along with their cousins SiZhui and JinGyi. he bonds with WWX and JC over how tired they are, seldom staring at flies roaming above them in the cafeteria bc none of them can even move. he lives on caffeine and regrets, but he’s getting better as he develops a love for his plant babies and tries to not let them die on a daily basis.

Wen Ning and Wen Qing are little overachievers and adrenaline junkies, hence their competitive streak on their way to their third master degree just for funsies. they scare people with how driven they are, but the juniors love them.

NMJ is the one to go to if you need to get away with murder, but JGY will actually be the one helping you dispose of the body. the fact that they both work in criminal law is somewhat both reassuring and disquieting. they hate each other and yet cannot stop hang out, they are close to 40 and need the rivalry to keep going anyway. nothing beats a good nemesis. not even sex. maybe.

NHS has failed his entrance exam to become a nurse too many times to count, but he is determined to see the end of it. even if he could potentially work in the family business, but he doesn’t know anything about managing an empire of bricks and he doesn’t care. if NMJ could run away, well, so can he.

MianMian is Wei Ying’s bestie and has the biggest crush on JGY’s sister A-Su the kindergarten teacher, but since they are childhood besties she doesn’t know how to approach her. she is Jin Ling’s idol and a certified boxer and refers to herself as a useless bisexual. Wei Ying boxes with her sometimes, she always win.

YanLi is an equestrian mum, but in the best way possible: she coaches children for shows and teaches them horses should be loved and feared equally and that if you want to shoot arrows from a running horse you should always, ALWAYS let go of the stirrups the moment the beast gets too unhinged to ride. JC fears her, WWX is only glad she didn’t train police dogs for a living.

ZiXuan actually loves his wife, but WWX and JC question his career choices and the fact that he’s a retired lawyer spending his family fortune while he’s a stay-at-home dad and does all the housework. WWX and JC believe he should give their sister a better life and work his ass off to deserve her, but he does make amazing rice cakes and keeps up with Jin Ling’s studies and is very supportive of his dreams.

A-Qing and Song Lan are siblings and sometimes bring JC food from the campus cafeteria where they both work at, while Xiao XingChen and his carer Xue Yang work with LXC for a project on accessibility for visually impaired visitors of the local museum. JC and LXC work to make Song Lan and Xiao XingChen fall for each other, but the youngsters are too protective to let them play matchmaker so easily.

[this is all for now. please, if you want, add your own headcanons!]

[dreamganronpa]

Flufftober Day Two - Rarepair

“The Game of Attention” - Celeste x Byakuya

This was actually based off a post from @oryginaldanganronpascenarios !  I thought the post was super cute so I used it as inspiration for this ^^

----

Celestia Ludenberg was never afraid to say what she wanted; which is why it was so easy for her to ask her classmate on a date. Unfortunately for her, he was not afraid to express his shock when she did it.

“You heard me, did you not?” she cooly asked. “Surely you haven’t forgotten about our little situation from the party already.” Her thin red lips formed somewhat of a pout as she took in the affluent progeny’s expressions. Astonishment turned to a thoughtful gaze then to an annoyed yet playful smirk. That was Byakuya’s most common face, as well as the one Celeste liked the most. 

“Of course I remember. Although it’s surprising for you to initiate this after your performance- or lack thereof- at that very party.” His mocking tone perturbed Celeste for only a moment.

“Are you saying I was an inefficient date, then?” 

“In the most literal sense of the word, yes. You could’ve at least tried to act like you were interested in me.” His words had a slightly higher tone and more annunciation, which Celeste had determined meant that he was being untruthful. What she couldn’t figure out though was the lie in his statement. 

“How do you know I wasn’t acting the whole time? Perhaps it was all part of my plan to get myself in your line of sight, so to speak.” Celeste folded her fingers under her chin, in that cute way that made the tips of Byakuya’s ears go red. 

Now he was off his game. “Fine, if you’re that desperate, I shall supply you with one more date. However, if you bore me again, you’ll never have another chance.” He kicked himself for agreeing to her date with only a little persuasion. He stuck out his hand, unable to go back on his word. “Well then, shall we see where this goes?”

“I suppose it’s a date.” Celeste agreed, shaking his hand. 

“Very well. I will be at your house at 6:30 pm on Thursday. Dress- normally- for a change.” The emphasis on ‘normally’ made her heart sink a little. Was her normal attire not good enough? Her sadness turned into a petty anger.

“How will you find my residency without my address? Must not have thought of that, did you?” Each word fell off her tongue like a hornet, with the intention of stinging the blonde boy every time.

He only smirked again. “157 Holbrook avenue, correct?” Celeste’s surprised face ensured that he was right. “You must’ve forgotten that I have access to school records which includes addresses and other personal information. So, Taeko, does 6: 30 work for you?” He had found himself leaning over the table to her, now only inches apart from her pale face. 

“It certainly does.” Celeste remained only a little bit angry, preferring to express her anger in private.  For now though, she focused on staring into his crystal blue eyes..

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and the end of this encounter. 

During the rest of the day, even though it was a short meeting, Celeste could only think of the rich blonde. He had entranced her, with his intelligent words and intense stares, but every time they talked had to be some sort of game- except for the party. There, they talked like normal people, and Celeste even dropped some of her accent for him. She just wanted to spend more real time with him. 

-

Tuesday passed by quickly, then Wednesday, and finally Thursday arrived. The only interactions Celeste had with Togami were glances passing through the halls, which annoyed Celeste. They had a date in a matter of hours and he pretended they were strangers. Although that was perfectly in-character for him.. Still, she huffed knowing that Byakuya would refuse to acknowledge her. 

-

That night, Celeste tried to wear something less extravagant, as per Byakuya’s request. Most of her outfits were stiff and doll-like, but she found a cute black dress that was simpler than her usual ensemble but still reflected her style. She wore pink ribbons instead of white in order to match the accents on the dress, and switched our her enormous ball earrings for small music note ones. Her makeup stayed the same though, her red lipstick standing out against the pastels.

When a strong knock resounded throughout her apartment, Celeste felt unprepared. Maybe it was because Byakuya arrived a half-hour early without warning. Regardless, she happily let him in, but she was still confused and intended to get an answer.

“Is your watch broken? You should not be here for another twenty-six minutes..” Celeste questioned in the coy way she always did.

Byakuya snickered. “I discovered that the place to which I am bringing you is further away than I originally perceived. If you have a problem, however, I can certainly reschedule my evening without you.”

“Don’t bother, I am ready to leave now.” She started to walk past the man but turned on her heels to face him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She asked while sticking out her hand. There was no response from Byakuya, causing her to sigh. “A proper gentleman always kisses his lady on the hand before a date. You are a gentleman, aren’t you?” She smiled as her date took her hand and begrudgingly kissed it. At least she could still get what she wanted. 

“My driver is waiting, come on.” Byakuya urged, opening the apartment door in order for them to leave. Celeste happily complied and they were in the long black car before the sun even began to set. 

-

The driver pulled into the back of a quaint building, barely fitting into a parking spot. Byakuya hastily opened the car door for Celeste (he couldn’t risk being called un-gentlemanly in public where his image was affected), and they entered the shop. The sign out front read ‘Wakey-Wakey café’, and the inside was decorated with many pastels and lace patterns, very similar to the outfits Celeste wore other than the color scheme. It was mostly empty, allowing for them to get served immediately after sitting down. 

“What a cute little café,” Celeste cooed. The instant she walked in, her mood had lifted. Byakuya felt it too, as he was less snarky already.

“Yes, I read many excellent reviews about it, which is why I brought you here. Is your tea sufficient?” 

Celeste had forgotten about her royal milk tea already. She took a sip, expecting mediocre taste but it was just as good, no, better than anything she would have custom-made for her. Her face lit up at the surprising amount of quality. 

In order not to blush, Byakuya in turn drank some of his coffee. It was sweeter than he preferred, but most cafés didn’t  serve strong black coffee. He still couldn’t help but look at the genuine smile on his date’s face, and he wondered why he liked it so much. 

Despite his ignorance, Byakuya did notice how he had put more attention on the gothic lolita. Out of all the girls in his class, she had been the one he invited to the party, which was no coincidence. But after the party, he had been thinking about her, and noticing more of her little details. Why though? Was he not satisfied with his enormous fortune? Did he truly need a woman in his life? 

“Celestia, I have one thing to ask you. Why did you ask me on another date? Don’t lie to me.” 

The girl was caught off-guard by the question, but quickly responded truthfully.  “Hmm? I told you already. I wanted your attention; but it looks like I’ve already succeeded.” 

She was right about stealing his attention, both her and him knew it. Byakuya knew how much he wanted to spend more time with her, even though he still wasn’t sure why. But he knew he had to capture her heart in return.

“Succeeded? Oh, it’s only just begun.”

[gem-quest]

[ P L E X I P E D I A . ]

SCREEN NAME: Ophelia REAL NAME: Goes by Cat on Discord, the Plexipedia discussion boards, and roll20. Possibly short for Catherine, Cathleen, or a related name, or possibly just derived from her preferred online username catinthebox. GUILD: Moonstone SPECIES & CLASS: Specter Bard GUILD RANKING: 59th percentile

[ B A S I C S . ]

Ophelia was among the first wave of players to enter into Gem Quest after its initial public launch. She was also among the first players to devote extensive time and resources to creating original items via the game’s crafting system, and to establish a player-made shop to sell her personally crafted items.

Ophelia is a specter bard who plays for the Moonstone Guild. The most recent reports on her activities from other players place her primarily in and around her shop location in the City of Magic in Level 11. From this location, she provides custom equipment, magic items, and repair services.

Her most recent level cleared, according to Plexipedia, was level 36. Ophelia has previously been a member of two parties, according to Discord and Plexipedia users, but left both. At the time of writing, she is thought to be without a party and providing material and crafting support away from the Moonstone front.

She has been linked with the Discord username catinthebox#6439 by Discord users rebelscum#8992 and arches#4731. Through her activity on the official Plexipedia Discord as Cat/catinthebox#6439, she has been heavily involved in discussions of in-game crafting and items since shortly after Gem Quest’s public launch. Under the username catinthebox, she is also a regular contributor to entries on items, materials, and the Gem Quest crafting system and skill tree on Plexipedia. She’s a regular respondent to inquiries about the location and properties of in-game materials, the mechanics and applications of crafting, and GQ lore bites and side quests.

[ S T A T S . ]

The following stats are based on the reports of two former party members with previous access to view Ophelia’s stats. Ophelia’s stats are set as invisible to all players other than party members, and she is currently reported as being without a party. Stats included here may therefore be outdated.

STRENGTH - 0/X*

DEFENSE - 2

CHARISMA - 6

PSYCHE - 7

WILLPOWER - 7

CAUTIOUSNESS - 4

AGILITY - 8

ENDURANCE - 3

INTELLIGENCE - 8

LUCK - 5

* Specters do not have a Strength score.

[ T R I V I A. ]

Based on the most recent data about player-run businesses in the Gem Quest economy, Ophelia’s shop in the City of Magic is ranked as one of the top 10 most frequented player-run business in the game, and one of the top 20 most profitable in terms of coins. She also is currently thought to be a serious contender for the title of player character who’s created the largest number of distinctly titled and ranked items not derived from existing crafting guides or official in-game item lists.

According to Discord user arches#4731, corroborated by other members of her TTRPG gaming circles with a presence on Discord, Cat is a university student currently based in Dublin, Ireland. Her accent has been described as “difficult to place, but definitely kind of Irish.” As mentioned above, Ophelia is an active online TTRPG player who plays in multiple Dungeons and Dragons groups on roll20, including one with arches#4731.

Her in-game appearance features the typical washed-out color palette, vague transparency, and occasionally misty form of a Gem Quest specter. In regards to fashion, Ophelia is noted for her exclusively black and white color scheme, fondness for layers and stripes, omnipresent elaborate collars and/or capes, and strong tendency towards gothic, steampunk, and Victorian-inspired styles.

Her in-game persona is that of an inventor and musician murdered after delving too deeply into the disappearance of her older brother at court, returned to the land of the living to find her brother, make her mark on the world, and avenge herself on her killers. She has never been seen to deviate significantly from her set character within the game, even for the purpose of practical conversations or casual discussions with party members.

[ C R E A T I O N S. ]

In-game, Ophelia currently works as a crafter and shopkeeper specializing in magical items and minor gadgetry. She is best known for pioneering the use of symbols, glyphs, and runes in the crafting of custom magical items. Most of her crafted items are rune-powered magical instruments or small weaponry, trick/trap devices, and clothing/accessories with added utility. A small selection of especially notable and/or common items crafted by Ophelia are listed below. For further information, visit Ophelia’s section in the Player-Crafted Items Index.

Screaming Lute - A modified beginning bard instrument, customized to serve as a container and channeler of magical energy. Creates a variety of effects through the use of engraved runes on the lute’s surface, each of which is activated by a different note or chord played on the instruments, and an unidentified internal source of magical energy. So-named for its tendency to scream in abject agony and despair whenever the magical effect of a B-level spell or equivalent is fired from it.

Whispering Flute - A modified bard instrument customized to fire off a limited number of blasts of Ventium and Murmurationium upon the playing of specific notes in conjunction with a small extra motion by the wielder.

Shifting Cloak - A cloak embroidered with symbols along the hem that allow it to change color, pattern, length, hem, and apparent fabric quality based on the other current attire of its wearer. Custom versions can be made that allow the cloak to shift into specific, commissioner-requested appearances when paired with certain outfits and/or wardrobe items.

Performer’s Cloak - A cloak that trails illusory sparks, smoke, glitter, or flower petals (depending on the make) in precise proportion to the amount of movement the cloth’s fabric makes. The effect is only visible to persons other than the wearer, though it does appear in captured in-game images of the cloak. Vigorous swirling, twirling, twisting, or thrashing of the cloak creates effects dense enough to impede or obscure the vision of persons within range other than the wearer.

Wielder’s Gloves - A pair of gloves enchanted to turn fingerless at a key word or signal from the wearer or when the wearer reaches for one or more specifically linked weapons or tools. They also create a powerful adhesive effect between the palms of the gloves, the wearer’s hands, and any item linked to the gloves, an effect that can only be disabled on the wearer’s signal. This eases the handling of certain finesse weapons and makes the wearer nigh-impossible to disarm.

Mood Ring - A magically accurate mood ring. An early creation, notable for the fact that one of the first things Ophelia is known to have done in Gem Quest was sit down and take 5 in-game days to figure out how to make a really good mood ring. Improved versions can have their mood-responsive color-changing enabled or disabled with a key word or signal, display the color of the mood of another wearer with a ring linked to one’s own, or (with limited charges per day) display the mood of a chosen NPC or PC target within range.

Trick Gem - A glass vessel with a permanent illusion charm etched into its surface, usually giving it the appearance of a gem or other small loot item of A rank or higher. The illusion can be dispelled only by breaking the glass, as the enchantment is part of the glass itself; thus, it can stand up well to moderate standard attempts to check for magical effects or dispel magic, as long as no one thinks to throw the “gem” at the nearest wall. If transferred to another person other than its current owner without a chosen signal/permission from its owner, a small mechanism within the hidden vessel will trigger after one minute, exposing the true contents to air. This liquid ignites instantly, causing significant fire damage to the gem’s new holder or (if already transferred to storage) to their inventory. Ophelia claims that the needed etchings cannot be done on an Unbreakable Bottle, thus making a sturdier version aimed less at blowing up thieves and more at pulling impressive con jobs non-viable.

Nuisance Galthrops - Small, four-spiked area denial weapons individually etched with runes to keep them invisible until either a key word or signal is given by the person who deployed them OR they pierce flesh. Each does a single unit of damage, and they cannot penetrate most boots or foot armor in one hit, though repeated strikes from them are likely to damage and/or pierce most materials.

Summoner’s Box - A small wooden box with a red Summoner’s Crystal built into its frame, usually slightly behind and to the side of a small hole hidden within a panel of intricate decoration. If the lock is opened without a specific signal or key word chosen by its owner, the opening of the lock will trigger a small metal spike to crash into the gem, shattering it and summoning an angry imp or other small demon hostile to those responsible for doing it damage via opening the lock. 

[ L E V E L S . ]

LVL. 11: THE CITY OF MAGIC & VALLEY OF MONSTERS. Ophelia’s workshop and storefront are located in one of the major retail districts of the City of Magic, close to the starting points of several in-level quest lines involving the city’s undead residents. She is also frequently spotted in the city’s cemeteries, various haunted houses, and the local apothecary shop noted as the level’s fetch-quest hub.

LVL. 16: THE BURIED TEMPLE OF AMAUNET. Ophelia has been spotted in what appear to be multiple independent runs through the temple, and some of the inscriptions on her items have been noted to resemble the temple complex’s rune system.

LVL. 20: A MIDWINTER’S NIGHT DREAM, & LVL. 35: THE ENCHANTED FOREST & THE FAERIE COURT. Favorite material foraging/collection locations.

LVL. 36: RAINBOW ROAD & THE SEA OF STARS. Ophelia’s last known cleared level, completed after parting ways with her second party two months ago.

Please fill out THIS anonymous form if you have information regarding Ophelia’s family and/or identity. 

T A G L I S T . @ayzrules​ @bebemoon @armadasneon @now-on-elissastillstands

[airquietworks]

Expecting! (IzuOcha) (Part 3)

Summary: The world may never be the same. Izuku and Ochako have to answer for their choice to have a child. Navigating pregnancy and heroics is no small task, but together, they are determined to succeed.  Part 1, Part 2

"Well, this is a quaint little scene you have going here."

"Shush! I am trying to work my magic. It takes absolute focus. And you closing your lips."

"Don't mind me; I'm just a fly on the wall."

"Too bad I can't swat you. A little to the left there, dear! No, my left!"

Izuku watched as Ochako huffed, pouting as she adjusted her position again at Akihi's behest. He himself struggled to maintain his easygoing smile, per the photographer's instruction. His butt was starting to get sore from the rather uncomfortable stool he was made to sit on. The tight-fitting collared shirt and sweater felt too hot on his skin.

"At least we're not naked this time," he whispered to his wife, managing to garner a giggle from her.

———————————————————————————————————–

Chapter 3: Comfort, confrontation and the world

———————————————————————————————————–

She looked positively radiant in her bright floral dress. She stood up tall, on-high above him, providing him with a front-row seat to appreciate her natural beauty.

Ochako let out a little sigh, her eyes starting to droop. The photoshoot was dragging on longer than either of them cared for. "We're going out for mochi when this is over."

"Aap aap aap! No talking! I've almost got the shot! You look gorgeous!"

Izuku clammed up at the command, praying they would be freed from this before long. As much as he'd like to just enjoy his wife's company, their audience – Akihi the shutterbug and the ever-watchful Kyoko – would never let that happen.

He tried to let his mind wander, searching within for a distraction from his discomfort. As he often did, his thoughts began to spiral in ponderance of the things happening around him and every aspect to be considered about them.

Really, this was to be their lot in life. Even more than before, they would be keenly observed, their celebrity boosted by their unusual decision to have a child. Privacy would be hard to come by once they went back into the field. This would be the first magazine cover they graced the pages of as parents-to-be, but it would certainly be far from the last.

What did it mean for them? He had cast aside his doubts that they wouldn't find a way to make this work for them. But how the world at large would change was another matter entirely.

The camera started snapping loudly. It kept going until the noise began to fade into the distant background. Different sounds replaced it. Memories of explosions, screams, and collapsing buildings. Himself, rushing in to save the day. To help those in need.

"No mumbling either!"

The world snapped back into focus. He stayed his rapidly-moving lips, forcing them back into an upturned position. It was a momentary lapse in his mind, one he chose not to dwell on. It was a dangerous daydream.

The burden of a hero was always the knowledge of the people you failed to save. It was an ugly, gnawing thing at the back of your mind which could lash out unexpectedly, guilting you about the things you had no control over.

It was part of the struggle of trying to become the world's greatest. He had coped well enough with that guilt, with Ochako's help. But as her belly swelled, so too did the biting creature in the back of his mind.

The decision to give up some of the world's benefit for his own – to take a more selfish approach to his life – had not been an easy one.

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

The waters of Dagobah Municipal Beach Park always inspired a deep sense of tranquility and nostalgia within Izuku. The calming sound of the waves brushing solidly against the shore was almost like a song to him. It was the soundtrack which started the defining times of his youth.

This was a forge of heroes. At least, All Might had made it into one. Here, his mentor had built him from a wispy child into a budding man, one with the strength to contain the nigh-infinite power of One For All.

Izuku had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into the sand to build himself up. With his tireless efforts, he had cleaned the beach and made its true beauty shine through, reinvigorating its public use. This beach was arguably the birthplace of the hero named Deku. It was one of his first acts of heroism, even if it had been small in the grand scheme of things. For that, it was a place he would always be fond of.

He kept a sad smile on his face as he gazed upon it.

The smile remained despite the mountains of garbage that had once again accumulated across the once-pristine shoreline.

"Huh. Little worse off than when we left it."

His mentor's dry evaluation of the beach broke the quiet moment of tension. With a sigh, Izuku pushed his mentor forward, searching for a ramp to get him down into the sands below.

"They let it get like this again?" Izuku murmured. His eyes moved across the trash-filled horizon as they walked alongside it. "What's the government even doing?"

All Might let out a throaty chuckle. The sound was scratchier than it once was, but was still pleasant again Izuku's ears. "You'll be asking yourself that question a lot, trust me."

The two eventually found the ramp they were searching for. Izuku pushed All Might down the sloping surface. The wheels immediately caught when they hit the sand, but the elderly hero tapped a switch on the end of his armrest. A panel opened up with an array of buttons, emblazoned with different brightly-colored symbols for ease of use. A quick press from a bony finger caused the chair to transform. The tires rapidly inflated as the bike's mechanics shifted to lift All Might higher. In a matter of seconds, the chair's built-in beach mode was ready, one of the dozens of terrain types the machine had been designed to handle.

Izuku stared at the wheelchair as it morphed, wishing he had his notebook on him. "Melissa is incredible."

"It might be a little much. But I must admit it's effective."

Unfortunately, navigating mounds of trash was not something the device had been designed for, and All Might did not care to activate its hover mode for fear of attracting attention. The two settled on a somewhat open spot on the edge of the beach, with a clear enough view of the water and the shining line of the horizon.

Izuku let himself fall down roughly to the sand. He kicked off his sandals and buried his feet into the ground. The familiar feeling of the coarse texture rubbing against his skin was surprisingly pleasant. His nostalgia triggered again as he recalled all those days he would collapse into the beach after a hard day's work.

He let the peace of the park fill him. The trash made the scene messy and chaotic, but there was harmony to be found underneath it all.

"So, young Midoriya. Why did you want to come here?"

Izuku side-eyed the former paragon of heroism. Seeing All Might here again, bathed in the setting sun, was a reminder of how the years had not been kind to him. His face was horribly wrinkled, weathered into an unpleasant misshapenness. The once-mighty blonde mane of hair had faded to grey, thin and falling, barely enabling the former hero to don a simple straight cut. The arms poking out from the simple white t-shirt were pencil-thin, with no hope of summoning even a flicker of the strength All Might once wielded.

This was what was left of the man who had given up his entire being for the world.

But no matter how All Might looked, the world never stopped idolizing him in return. He carried himself with dignity, making as many public appearances as he could for charitable causes. He no longer had the body to teach daily classes at U.A., but he still stayed on as faculty, guiding the curriculum for the next generation of heroes and appearing from time to time for guest lectures.

Long since retired, All Might still did amazing things. Izuku wondered if he would ever be able to hold a candle to him at that age.

The young hero tensed his fingers in the sand. He absentmindedly tried to grab hold of it, a useless gesture as it instead slipped through his fingertips.

"Midoriya?"

"Sorry!" Izuku blurted quickly, realizing he was getting too lost in his own thoughts. He had kept All Might guessing, being cryptic and evasive on the way over here. He could not stall any longer.

"I…I wanted to get your advice about something."

"Oh? Well, I'm always happy to help, Midoriya. But did you have to come all the way out here for that?"

"It's a…a little different than usual." Izuku could feel his face grow hot under the scrutinous eyes of his hero. The two kept in regular contact over the phone, but their face-to-face meetings were much more infrequent due to their busy schedules.

But Izuku had insisted on meeting in person for this. The place where it all began had seemed like a natural location.

"Well, enough keeping me in suspense. What is it?" All Might kept his usual even-keeled "teacher" voice. There was a calming familiarity to it, even as Izuku tried to muster up the courage to ask a life-defining question.

Izuku gulped, struggling to find the nerve. He had asked All Might for so much help over the years, and the man had always been patient with him. So why did his throat start to close up? Why was this so difficult?

It was because he was walking away from All Might's path.

The truth popped into the forefront of his mind, soon taking over his train of thought. He gritted his teeth, trying to push through the sinking guilt tearing its way through him.

He closed his eyes and grabbed deeply into the hard dirt beneath the sand.

"Ochako and I are thinking of having a baby."

All Might let out a telling, gasping breath. It was a rumbling noise, one which put Izuku on edge. He let the man recover, leaning forward impatiently as he waited.

"That's…that's wonderful. And surprising." All Might coughed hard, his airways clogging up over the shock.

Izuku focused intently on his mentor. He had always been hard to read, but their years-long bond had given Izuku some grasp of his body language. The man remained stony, his withered face unreadable. But Izuku noticed the slight clenching of bony fingers into the fabric of baggy pants.

The young hero sighed. The reaction was about as bad as expected. Getting through this conversation might be as herculean as clearing the beach.

"We're pretty unsure about it. We're looking at everything. And we're asking for advice." Izuku could picture Ochako in his mind's eye, sitting on a train, perhaps looking up at the same setting sun that he was. "Ochako's heading out to talk to her parents about it this weekend."

"Midoriya, this is…this isn't really my strong suit." All Might's head turned away from him, but he could only go so far within the confines of the wheelchair. Those once-mighty hands came together in a clasp, looking all too fragile.

"Toshinori…" Izuku heard the man suck in a breath. It was rare Izuku uttered that name, as much as he was encouraged to. It still felt strange to the tongue, but sometimes, the circumstance called for it. "I think I need to hear from you more than anyone. I…I just can't figure this out. What the right thing to do is."

Izuku let himself fall backwards into the sand, staring up at the fading light of the sky. The clouds made it look heavenly, dancing into wondrous forms. But the light was quickly starting to fade.

"Well, you haven't ever talked about having kids. Why exactly do you two want a child?"

Izuku let his eyes fall closed at the question. His mind conjured up the answer in a slideshow of images, enrapturing his heart in a way he could not hope to describe. He remembered what it was like helping Eri and Kota grow to the wonderful young adults they were today. He imagined what it would be like to do that with his own child. To hold them in his arms, to watch them love things as passionately as he did, to see them grow up before his eyes.

He could see himself and Ochako, their small child between them, each grasping a minuscule hand. It made his heart soar.

"…because I can't help but love the thought of having a family." He paused to open his eyes and look up toward the darkening skyline once more. "And raising a part of the future."

Izuku pulled himself back into an upright position. He searched his companion's face for some sign of emotion. He needed to see some kind of positive affirmation. He did not want to venture into the dark unknown without his master's support.

All Might closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair. He lifted his hand and deposited his head into it, as if his thoughts were becoming too heavy.

"…do you want my honest opinion?" His question was quiet, barely above a whisper.

Izuku pushed himself forward, crawling over to face his teacher. He sat cross-legged before his chair, sitting up as straight as he possibly could. "More than anything."

All Might let out a chuckle at the movement. It really did feel like old times, the pupil hanging desperately on his teacher's words. Izuku could feel himself tensing in anticipation, ears straining to hang on whatever came.

"Well, if you want the truth…" All Might paused to let out a deep sigh. He opened his steely blue eyes, giving an intense stare to Izuku. "I think it's a terrible idea."

Those heartwarming images of his future child shattered into a million pieces. Izuku took a bracing breath. In. Out. He wanted to keep his composure, to face All Might like the man he was. This was the difficult, but honest, conversation he had asked for.

But despite his best efforts, he could not meet those cold eyes.

"Why…why do you think that?" Izuku directed his question to the sandy beach below. He noticed a stray soda can buried beneath the grains, staining what should be pure ground.

All Might did not hesitate to respond this time.

"Well, for your average hero, having kids isn't easy. I'm sure you know how the demands of work make kids hard. Those I've seen manage it usually picked a partner who could dedicate more time into childrearing."

Every word made Izuku feel more like the earth should swallow him whole. His throat bobbed as he tried to maintain his composure. He did not realize just how much he had needed to hear All Might approve of this choice. He did not realize just how much of himself he had committed to wanting that.

"But you two are both pros. Most couples in your shoes would not even consider it. We heroes have to dedicate so much of ourselves to helping others. We can rarely help ourselves." All Might paused, but Izuku did not dare look up to see why.

"You both have such great potential. But to meet that and have a child…well, for just about anyone, I think I'd have to say something's got to give."

For the first time he could recall, he wanted to stop All Might from giving him advice. Every point being made was something he and Ochako had already discussed ad nauseam. But his teacher's words gave those doubts an added gravitas. Those nagging corners of his mind were running havoc inside his head, suddenly fueled by the power of the world's greatest hero.

All Might continued on, seemingly oblivious to the torment he was inflicting. "Your children might grow to resent you. Or worse. Heroes must always consider the risks. You know what happened to Kota-"

"It wouldn't be like that!"

The memory of the broken child he helped heal, and the thought of leaving their own child that way had been a frequent visitor of his nightmares. The spike of pain which tore through his heart at the reminder finally snapped something within him.

For the first time in his life, he was truly angry at his hero.

"You're wrong! We'd find a way to make it work!" He rose up to his feet, staring down defiantly as he unleashed a barrage of heartfelt words. " I don't care if I have to skip sleep or eating or nights out or…or anything!"

Izuku's arms shook with fury as he opened them wide, muscles bulging outward. "These arms are strong enough to hold the world and our child!"

His heart swelled, beating rapidly with the passion he felt for the beautiful images he imagined about his children. He could see the broken glass reforming in his mind, glowing with glorious light.

"And as for…for what happened to Kota…"

His arms fell to his sides again as he stared back down at the ground. It was hard to confront his own mortality. He and Ochako had wept together on too many close calls. They had mourned again as they contemplated whether they could even bring themselves to have children, considering that chance they would be creating orphans.

It was hard. But after so many anguished debates, one memory got them over that hump. The memory of a broken, bowing man pleading desperately to a steadfast mother.

Izuku lifted his head to stare back at his master. Toshinori wore a small, challenging smile, but Izuku refused to let that falter him.

"No matter what, we'll live for them. Just like you lived for me."

The fiery proclamation put a face-splitting grin on Toshinori's. He let the tiniest of chuckles escape from his lips.

"If it were anyone else, I would have seriously believed those things. But this is you we're talking about." Toshi paused to adjust himself backwards in his chair, his posture visibly relaxing. "Though it hardly seems like you need my advice."

Izuku blinked. The words were disarming, blowing away the air thick with tension. His fists unfurled as he considered how, exactly, the conversation got to this point.

"Wha….what?"

"Come now, Midoriya. I'm surprised how hard you fell for it. You must really want a kid bad." All Might had the gall to laugh again, more heartily this time. "That was advice I would give to most heroes. You, however, are a pretty special case."

Staggered by the change in words, Izuku found himself falling to the ground again. His rage dissipated as quickly as it came.

It slowly dawned on him what had just transpired. He could feel the heat inside him make his way to his cheeks. He had actually gotten furious at All Might, of all people!

"Sorry, sir!" He bowed his head in apology, praying he could make up for the gall of his anger. Once again, the tingles of nostalgia pricked him, but he ignored it. "I should have realized it was a test!"

"Now, now, don't get so serious on me," All Might admonished lightly, voice filled with mirth. "But it was good to see how passionate you are about this. This isn't something you should do if you aren't ready to put anything less than your all into it."

Izuku felt a comforting hand atop his shoulder. He looked up to see All Might beaming down. Even atop a weathered face, All Might still had a smile which could inspire hope.

"Right!" Izuku nodded back in enthusiasm, leaning forward with an energy All Might could always inspire.

The elder hero breathed a deep sigh, shaking his head. Izuku knew he was probably being a bit too volatile right now. But he couldn't help it. The idea that his teacher approved of a child on some level made his heart roar in triumph.

"You and Miss Uraraka have already done so much together. And you've already been breaking down social barriers few heroes have dared take on. If there are any heroes that could handle having a kid, it's you two."

The kind words were a jolt to Izuku. In spite of himself, he could not stop the water that started to well up in his eyes at the soft-spoken approval of his idol.

"You…you really mean that?" His lip quivered and he ruefully wiped away the tears starting to stain his cheeks.

"I do. But I just hope you know what you're getting into."

The man reached his arms out to roll himself forward, moving around and past his pupil. Deku feebly reached a hand out in an offer of help, but paused as his mentor paid no heed. Despite his aging limbs, All Might was still fiercely independent. There was quiet, unshakable strength to him that Izuku still relied on.

Izuku stayed in place as All Might wheeled himself toward the trash. He sat at a narrowing point in the mounds of garbage, flanked by two large piles of furniture. The sun had long since faded, but the starlight was more than enough to illuminate him. Izuku could see the flickers of All Might's aura dancing on the edges of his vision.

Izuku could remember the muscled back he spent so many days chasing here.

He wanted to believe he was past that now. But he knew he was still just reaching out to catch the end of All Might's shadow in many ways.

"The world is like this beach." The weathered hero stretched his arms out wide, dramatically gesturing to the towering heaps beside him. "No matter how much work you do, it finds a way to deliver you more."

He inclined his head backward toward Izuku, an icy half-stare challenging him.

"Are you sure you're ready to handle that responsibility and have a child?"

The stare sent shivers through Deku. But he would not hesitate. He knew the answer.

"I am."

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The memory danced vividly in his mind.

Shadows of doubt still sprung up within him on bad days. Days of weary limbs and lost battles. Days filled with uncertainty, like this one. Days where Ochako, the love of his life, suffered. Where the world seemed impossibly heavy.

But Izuku's own words were a talisman against the fears lurking in the corners of his head. The words were spoken by the man who would be the world's greatest hero. Deku did not doubt he and Ochako would succeed. He had promised it to All Might. He had to remember that.

"Just hold it right there! I need to adjust things a bit. Don't move an inch, lovelies!"

"You look zoned out. Whatchya thinkin' about?" The pleasant whisper of his wife snapped Izuku out of his musings.

He stared up at her again while she beamed gently down at him. As happened so often, she shone so brightly that she became hard to look at. In spite of their years of intimacy, he still found his face flushing.

A little fearful of the attentive ears of their photographer, Izuku did not communicate with words. He gently reached a hand and pressed it against her stomach, which bulged prominently underneath her dress. He grinned sheepishly as he felt the softness housing the growing life they had created together. The future child he would do anything for. Would live for.

The telltale sound of shutters filled the air again. "Magnifique!"

"You're not French."

"Nobody asked you."

The couple could not stop the titters which burst forth from them. The spell keeping them still shattered as they progressed into full-blown laughter. Ochako shifted to lean against a screen while Izuku put his hands on his knees, trying to regain control of the mirth coming from his lips.

"No, no, no!" Akihi's hands flew outward angrily, but she wore a shaky smile on her face. She breathed an exaggerated sigh as she shook her head at them. "You're lucky I'm good enough to have gotten something to work with!"

"It only took you 20 minutes longer than our staff photographers," Kyoko drawled dully from her place on the wall.

"Perfection takes time!"

The heroic couple continued their quiet laughter, managing to find humour amidst a whirlwind of uncertainty.

"Thank goodness that's over." Ochako breathed a sigh of relief as she reached out to grasp Izuku's hand, pinky sticking out in the air. "All of this production…do you think we did the right thing?"

Izuku looked down at the clasping of their weathered hands. He looked back up at the woman he loved more than anything. Strong, fierce, and shining more than anyone he had ever met.

He squeezed her hand tightly.

"I know we did."

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AN: Special thanks to Mika, whose artwork inspired this fic, and to Neon Pixel for commissioning the original art piece. Link to it here: https://stirredbrew.tumblr.com/post/183727397704/art-commission-done-by-the

Thanks again to Deadliest Sin Bin for editing this chapter.

Just one chapter, the epilogue, to go now.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! =)

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

The Eagle of Unasta and The Dragon of Zarcade Part 2

Look, I’m in a funk ok? I will get back to my Viking’s stuff as soon as I get this story out of my system. @waiting4inspiration​ you still might like this even though it doesn’t pertain to any particular fandom that you like. In case you missed it, here’s part 1.  Enjoy part 2. 

Part 2

In the morning, you woke up, feeling well rested, and rejuvenated, dreaming of flying with Zaq some more among other things and when you fully woke up, you realized you had slept in the cloak but you hadn’t sweated in it, if anything you had been perfectly comfortable in it. It smelled of the night air and Zaq and you couldn’t help but bring it to your face and breathed in as deeply as you could as you marveled at its softness against your face. 

He had carried you to bed like you had weighed nothing. Truth be told you were a rather voluptuous woman, shorter than you supposed was average and very curvy but compact and much heavier than you looked because you had more strength and muscle than most realized, so that was a feat in itself because he carried you like you had been barely a feather and he was clearly quite strong himself which you appreciated. 

You got dressed and came down to breakfast at about the same time the rest of your family did as Ester eagerly waived you over to sit next to her again at her table. 

“I thought you’d be in bed for at least another hour.” She murmured under her breath as she gave you a scheming smile. 

“So did I, I have no idea when we got back.” You muttered back, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. “Now I’m just waiting for the floor to drop and my family to throw a fit over what I did when they find out, every Zarcadian here practically saw me riding last night- if my family doesn’t know already- I give it an hour before they do then shit will hit the fan.” You predicted. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so quick to worry. If anything you just gave every Zarcadian here hope that they have half a chance.” She mused which made you snort a laugh into your coffee. 

“Yeah right, like one dance, one ride and two gifts is the magic combination to the Unasta’s lock.” You gave her a disbelieving look. 

“Wait, gifts? What gifts?” She asked. 

“That cloak I was wearing last night on that ride, it was given to me as a gift by Zaq.” You explained. 

“Well a cloak can be just a cloak, it’s an item of clothing that can be bought and sold like any other.” She waived off dismissively. “I’ve been given dozens of cloaks in every color conceivable not to mention a whole new wardrobe of nothing but the finest dragon silk and dragon wool clothes which I'm finding I'm becoming incredibly partial to because they are rather comfortable- no offense to your aunt, but I would happily never wear another corset ever again after I marry Xander. But what makes my clothes special is Zarcadian’s use their dragon’s magic to divine your adult size even when you’re little or even when you’re a newborn, they somehow use it to figure out what your sizes will be when the engagement will be implemented, so that all of your clothes fit you like a glove when they’re given to you, it’s supposed to signify how you were always fated to fit in with the rest of the family and how your place has been carved out for you, although it is uncanny how well it all suits my tastes, the dragon silk and wool takes ages to dye and it has to be carefully crafted for years, which is why Zarcadian fashion tends to be so timeless.” She added. “So what was the second? Please tell me it was a kiss good night though, because I saw the way you eyed him all last night and I know once your eagle eyes lock on, there’s no losing your target and I must say I wholeheartedly approve because you two looked so great together when you were dancing last night.” She gushed. 

“No, it was a dragon tooth blade.” You answered as you pulled it out of your pocket and showed it to her before she took it and took it out of its sheath to inspect it. 

“Huh, interesting.”  she frowned in concentration as she looked it over carefully, using the point to casually clean out her fingernail. “It’s nice, I mean not as nice as mine because I have mine spectacularly bejeweled, to the point I’m afraid the stones will come out if I use it. But you prefer functionality over looks so this suits you incredibly well. Does Zaq have one that is like a masculine version of it? Like a matched set?” She asked hopefully. 

“No, not that I’ve seen, why?”You returned curiously. 

“Well, see here’s the thing, if he had one just like it or a masculine version of it- like it’s a matched set- that means something.” She revealed. 

“What does it mean?” You pressed as you felt vindicated in your gut feeling about it last night. 

“So what the Zarcadians will do for couples is they enchant one big rough stone once the match is set, and it will be the link to join the couple and the stone- usually the nonzarcadian’s favorite stone- and it can be made into anything- jewelry, like a bracelet or a pendant, but the most common is handles for dragon tooth blades. And it’s supposed to signify that even in battle, you will defend each other and that your connection to each other is as strong as the dragon toothed blade it’s attached to. But if he doesn’t have one that matches it- then it’s just a normal dragon toothed blade- and again- those get bought and sold and traded all the time. So either those gifts mean he’s just being nice and generous and trying to befriend you, or they could mean something a bit more serious depending on your point of view.” She explained and you found yourself secretly wishing it was more serious but knew it was too much to hope for.  

“How is the stone enchanted?” You asked because you just had a gut feeling that it wasn’t just some normal dragon toothed blade, you just felt in your bones that this was special, why else would it fit your hand like it was made for it because honestly you had small, dainty, delicate- but supremely strong hands and buying gloves was always a nightmare because none of them seemed to fit right so to have something that suited your hands, was a welcome and refreshing change of pace. 

“Ok, so think of it- like a worry stone but it’s connected to the other half. Whatever you’re feeling- the other can feel it when they touch it and whatever feelings or emotions the other is feeling, you can get a sense of it from them through your half of the stone. It’s not necessarily thoughts per-say- like you can’t ask them a math question and they’ll feed you the answer, cause I tried it and it didn’t work, but it feels like…” She paused as she tried to find the right words to explain it. “You know how you feel sympathy and empathy for another person and you take how they are feeling and you make it your own?” She questioned as you nodded in understanding. 

“It’s like that, like with mine, if I’m missing him or I’m sad or frustrated, and I can hold my dagger and if he’s holding his- he can feel that and vice versa, you can tell that it’s very much how they are feeling and you choose to make it your own or not, it’s a way for the couple to always be connected so that by the time of the wedding, you’re more or less friends and get a chance to get to know their emotional makeup and moods at least.” She explained. 

“So who is Zaq betrothed to anyway?” You felt the need to ask. 

“I have no idea. No one does. His great grandmother announced at his birth that his betrothed will be ‘one of great surprise’, and ‘it is she that will make herself known to him and to his family’ according to Xander who overheard his grandmother and mother talking about it right before they came here. Which is completely against custom because usually Zarcadian men are betrothed from a year up until they are like 10 or however long it takes for a “suitable” wife to come along and be born and once the match is made- it’s practically preached in the town square and everyone knows and word spreads like wildfire and they usually become pen pals and spend a lot of time together as kids and teenagers so that they’re not strangers to each other at their wedding. So either his betrothed is older than him which would be a first for Zarcadians because usually Zarcadian men are a couple of years older than their wives. But a woman of high enough stature or valuable enough that they were simply waiting for the next son to be born and whoever was born the quickest gets the girl because Zaq and several others from the other families were all born within the span of just a couple days of each other, some even hours apart. But I don’t think that’s what happened, or at least the whole story. His whole situation makes me think that they put in a bid for a princess and that great grandma made that announcement before she got an answer back because in this day and age who in their right mind would say no to a Zarcadian? Especially one from the house of Ceda, the second most distinguished house besides the royal family? Well besides your family of course, but the fact that she has maintained that all his life- makes me think that he secretly got rejected but she’s saving face and she doesn’t want anyone to know. So I believe he’s actually single and not betrothed to anyone and that the moment any woman no matter how humble or high her station who expresses any interest in him can have him and great grandma will go ‘Tada see? Somehow it was Miss Random all along.’ And cover her ass for dropping the ball and no one would be any wiser for it. But I mean look at him and his handsome self, if my theory is right- it’s not going to be long before he’s snatched up like this last lemon custard tart.” She hastily snatched up her prize from the tray and stuffed it in her mouth which made you snort another laugh and roll your eyes as you turned the dagger over in your hand, still marveling at how perfectly fit your hand as you wondered what was really going on before you put it away. 

After breakfast you were walking through the solarium, enjoying the exotic flowers from around the world as you held that dagger in your hand in your pocket and mentally called out to Zaq to come and find you and where you were before Zaq seemed to come out of nowhere to answer your unspoken call. 

“Those don’t really have a scent Eagle.” He gently teased which made you smile excitedly before you turned from sniffing them and feeling disappointed that they did indeed, not have a scent, despite their beauty but hoping that your little “test” just proved true. 

“I suppose you already know which ones do Dragon?” You returned with a grin which made his own smirk grow into a smile. 

“I do actually.” He confirmed. 

“Then do lead me to said blooms.” You invited as you gestured for him to lead the way before he offered you his arm which you gratefully took and walked together, your strides naturally syncing with one another, not even wanting to look to see if he was wearing another dagger because you were afraid you would get disappointed that it wouldn't match just in case this was a fluke and you wanted to enjoy this little fantasy of yours a little longer before reality shattered it. 

“So where are the other wolves today? Out hunting again?” You guessed. 

“Yes, trying to anyway,” he confirmed which you hummed in response to. 

“Was there a meaning behind your gifts to me last night? Or are you just a generous person by nature?” You asked wondering if he would speak freely with you, the most you could hope for is he would be honest but he was Zarcadian after all, and you knew they did love their secrets, and wondered how many ulterior motives he had and what they were. 

“Well you are right, I am a generous person by nature, or at least I try to be and there is meaning behind them, an amicable one I assure you.” He answered. 

Well that confirmed that he wanted to be your friend but it didn’t negate the more serious intentions either. 

“Well I am appreciative of the gifts, the cloak fits me well and is perfectly balanced in that it kept me warm but wasn’t suffocating in any way, and this blade is especially exquisite and the handle is extraordinary, I have never had a blade fit my hands as well as this does and it has a beautiful balance of functionality and beauty. The blade your brother Xander gave to Ester is in my opinion, overly decorated to the point that it negates it’s functionality but Ester does love that kind of thing, I’m sure a gem would fall off the moment she would try to use it to spread butter on her toast not that it’ll probably never leave it’s sheathe. However I understand there is some cultural significance considering Xander has one that matches it since it came in a set. She informed me that it’s to signify that they’re a couple, which is a sweet tradition in my opinion, it can make a betrothal easier to accept especially when the parties have little to no choice in the matter.” You ventured as you took it out and continued to appraise it.   

 “It does, but I know that you are not chained to such traditions.” He answered carefully, knowing he would have to choose his words carefully and not spill the beans too soon and scare you off. 

“You are also correct. My grandfather is very clear to his children and even his grandchildren that we should freely choose for ourselves what we should do and who we should marry and to hold fate in one hand and destiny in another and yet not give into either unless we want to but to otherwise carve out what you want with your own two hands.” You revealed. 

“What I would give to be in such a family.” Zaq sighed, a week before he would have been feeling extremely jealous himself but right now he was tickled that you once again said word for word what his grandmother had predicted and he couldn’t wait to actually be your family one day.  

“So absolute freedom then? No strings or restrictions?” He asked. 

“Well, there is one stipulation. We are forbidden from marrying any Zarcadians, my grandfather may be old and getting perhaps a little senile in his old age but he's still the patriarch of the family and he still decides who inherits what and he does get the final say in all the important matters and so far he has never been wrong about anything, so at least while he lives, his word is law to a degree in our family. Now I'm told he has his reasons for feeling the way he does about Zarcadians but my parents as well as all my aunts and uncles refuse to tell me or my sisters or my cousins what those reasons could possibly be and shut us down every time we try to ask. There is a theory among us though that he loved a Zarcadian woman in his youth. But my grandfather was of very little means with no political ties so he had nothing but himself to offer her, and she had been betrothed to another since infancy or childhood or whatever the Zarcadian custom may be and could not break it for him. So his rejection made him bitter and there was no way for him to know at the time that he or any of his relation would ever amount to anything more than a commoner. I have seen Zarcade from a distance, even the houses of slaves are great and even they can trace their lineage back generations whereas in my family- all we have is living memory that my grandmother can remember about her own large family since my grandfather can only remember himself as a tumbleweed before he was in the army. But he found a place for himself as a soldier of Suter and his friends that he made there were closer than brothers and he made his own found family and he did get to marry my grandmother which he has vowed always was, always is and always will be the love of his life and even now, their love for each other burns brighter than the sun, as does the love between my parents and all my aunts and uncles." You confessed, shocking yourself with how easy it was to be so forthcoming, and worrying that Zaq now had ammunition against you as your stroked the handle to the blade anxiously before you felt a sense of calm, like you were safe- like you were with a dear friend who would keep your confidence- there was no other way to explain it. 

“Well I am, technically only a small, tiny fraction Zarcadian, surely that’s far enough away from it for it not to be held against me.” He tried to reason, his own tone still light and a little teasing which helped you relax as you smiled fondly at him. 

“Well while I can only speak for myself, I promise to do my best not to hold that against you, however I think others in my family probably- and by probably I mean most likely- would. I think they would take issue with the fact that your family is one of the most noble families of Zarcade, second only to the royal family and you live in one of the towers in the old kingdom do you not?” You questioned as he grimaced. 

“Details, details,” He tried to waive off dismissively which made you giggle as you either consciously or subconsciously hugged his well muscled arm and laid your head on his shoulder for a moment before he covered your hand that was in the crook of his elbow and you found yourself appreciating for a second time how warm his hands were, still that same balance between softness and calloused-ness, yet profoundly tender, thinking to yourself that you could so fall in love with him with almost alarming ease and wondered if you could live with yourself if you defied your family to chase this dream you were perceiving now when you looked at him, of course, with him being possibly betrothed to another didn't sit well with you, as you were brought up that a husband and wife should be absolutely loyal and faithful to the other and that mistresses were never an option, that if there was no more love in a marriage- that one should divorce the other so that you were both free to love another and find happiness and love again, you never wanted to be the other woman and would in turn never tolerate infidelity but if he was secretly free and single and looking to get out of Zarcade you could definitely be interested and you would happily break him out of the traditions he was chained to if he wanted to be free that is. You supposed only time could tell at this point though.  

When you got to the promised blooms, you reluctantly let him go to take a few steps off the path to smell the blooms as Zaq’s dragon flew all around the salarium to try to get a closer look at the two you as Zaq was shooing her away. 

“Is your dragon missing you?” You asked, having seen her reflection in the glass around you. 

“Kind of?” Zaq grimaced, you really did see everything and he didn’t want his dragon ruining or spoiling anything just yet. 

“So if I may be so bold- is there any way to be a dragoner without being a Zarcadian?” You asked. 

“Well, in theory, yes, if you could get your hands on some dragon eggs and manage to incubate them and successfully hatch them, you could grow them up and start breeding them once they’re of size but most dragons have a way of finding their brethren and returning to the same place their ancestors hatched from since they use the same sites for generations as long as the sites are not compromised or contaminated because most dragons are actually really picky about how and where they lay their eggs, of course, with that being said- you’d have to brave a whole cavern full of nursery and guardian dragons to get to the eggs.” He answered and you got the sense that he was being truthful. 

“So how are dragon eggs incubated?” You asked curiously, thrilled that he was sharing even this much with you. 

“Well they get set on fire by the parent’s dragon fire and have to stay at really high temperatures for several months, the longer the better. I have to get dressed in many thick layers of dragon leather and dragon scale armor and use special lenses made out of translucent dragon scales to even see the eggs so I can count them while they’re in incubation and drop off all the carcasses for the nursery and guard dragons to eat because they never really leave the caves, that’s why most dragons who hunt are actually males- but once they reach those final few weeks, the dragons instinctively and very carefully lower the temperature so that by the time they are ready to come out of the egg, we can be present to welcome them into the world and you would be surprised to find out how shockingly similar they are to kittens or puppies when they’re little, especially when they’re roughly the same size, and they usually imprint on us and their parents and the other nursery and guardian dragons so it’s much easier to teach them how to take a rider when they want to be ridden by you.” He explained, happy to talk so freely about something that Zarcadians usually were sworn to secrecy about but to you- he knew he could trust you with this information in turn as he was relieved that the reason your grandfather had forbidden the marriages before was probably due to a grudge but if your grandfather was already old and frail, surely he wouldn’t have to wait too long before that obstacle would remove itself, hopefully sooner than later. He could sense that you were a revolutionary in the making, an independant trail blazer and he couldn’t wait to show you everything he was talking about as soon as he figured out how in the world he was going to manage to get you to come to Zarcade. 

“So basically the only way to really get into dragons is to first have a pair of them to lay eggs in a cave that isn’t their ancestral nesting site on Zarcadian soil and get them to incubate and care for the eggs themselves because doing it any other way doesn't seem feasible, so the venture does seem like an impossibility since owning dragons is an exclusive right held only by Zarcadians and the only way into that is by marrying into a Zacadian family who breeds them on their own and already knows the tips and tricks as you appear to.” You surmised and Zaq could only nod in agreement to that reasoning. 

“Well, there is one other kind of roundabout way, you could marry into a Zarcadian family, get given those dragons as wedding presents since dragons are the last present given to a bride coming into the family then find a way to divorce them and take the dragons with you- if you managed to be the first to get your legal divorce since divorce is banned, I mean you could, in theory do it.” He offered. “Just because every other person has failed trying to be a dragoner without becoming a Zarcadian- in the history since my ancestors, however distant they may be in my family, shouldn’t deter you.” He tried to encourage you but his tone was still playful which made you laugh. 

“Oh is that all? Easy peasy then. All I would need now is a Zarcadian groom who isn’t betrothed already, which I will need all the luck in the world to find unless he practically fell out of the sky into my lap,  to agree to teach me all there was to know about dragons, marry me, hand the dragons over to me and then immediately divorce me if he was not willing to turn his back on his people, culture and traditions unless he wanted to do all of those things and leave with me, in which case we’d both be outcasts from our families and we would be completely on our own from that moment on and be the enemies of not just Suter and the Unastas but the Zarcadians as well and find a mountain range suitable to building a new nesting site in addition to him having dragons who would in turn be willing to follow me home and go against their own instincts which are stronger than any animal.” You realized as Zaq simply smiled, knowing it would never get quite that bad but if he had to be dropped into your heavenly divine lap, so be it. 

“You could hold auditions, have the declaration of war right next to the sign up sheet.” He mused which got you both to laugh as you walked back to him before you just casually took a walk through the solarium together, talking about everything, upbringings and cultures and food and of course going back to dragons as often as possible before it was lunchtime and you snagged a servant to bring you lunch in the solarium so that you could enjoy it in privacy with Zaq without the whole world watching. 

“So could I use this on like everyday things or just use it for special occasions or what?” You asked as you both enjoyed nice little sandwiches as you sat on the swing together and gently swung, enjoying the fresh spring blooms and their scents around you as you appreciated the dagger some more, getting used to its weight and balance. 

“You can use it however you see fit. But just be careful- it is sharp and will cut through just about anything but if it ever gets dull, just let me know and I’ll resharpen it for you.” Zaq offered. 

“Thank you.” You beamed happily at him as you were just amazed that the more time you spent with him, the more you felt like you had always known him, like you had been friends for forever already and something about him just clicked with you. 

“Ok, do you mind if I asked you a rather personal question?” You asked as you split the last mango custard tart which was your personal favorite. 

“Go for it.” He invited as he gratefully took the other half and ate it gleefully. 

“I know Zarcadians have the custom of being betrothed very young, would I be correct to assume that you are too?” 

"You would be wrong if you did." He answered with a smile that was practically scheming that excited every nerve in your body. 

"What? How? How are you not betrothed?!" You pressed, forcing your voice to be a hushed whisper as you turned towards him and leaned even closer to him. 

"Because an offer of marriage hasn't been made on my behalf yet and no one will either. No offer, no proposal, no betrothal. In fact, most of my younger siblings aren't even betrothed and they are well passed the age." He informed you, his own voice an equally hushed whisper as his body language mirrored yours. 

"Who handles all the betrothals in your family?" You asked. 

"My great grandmother, you're not the only one with a senile grandparent." He hinted. "Of course if you ask anyone else, they'll tell you that I am but "it's a secret surprise" but there has never been a name mentioned. When I was younger it used to give a lot of anxiety because not knowing was unnerving. But the older I get- the more I appreciate it.” He admitted as you both laid your heads against the back cushions of the swing as once again your sleepiness seemed to take over, because it was now siesta time but you didn’t want your time together to end. 

“Are you ok?” Zaq asked as you yawned. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I had a great lunch so now it’s siesta time to Unastas.” You murmured sleepily as you struggled to keep your eyes open but you couldn’t wipe the dreamy smile from your lips if you tried. 

“Do you wish to return to your room?” He asked. 

“No, I don’t want to leave and I love hearing you talk about...everything.” You answered. 

“Here,” Zaq said as he pulled a cushion from another chair and scooted back so that you could lay down which you gladly obliged, laying on your back on the bench, your knees laing over the armrest of the swing looking up past the frame into the canopy as Zaq pulled a magicked dragon wool handkerchief out of his pocket and started to stretch and pull and fluff it so that it grew into a throw blanket big enough to cover you before he laid it over you so you could sleep comfortably and actually sang you a lullaby, his tone becoming soft before you quickly fell asleep with the added gentle swaying and rocking of the swing. 

“God is my fate beautiful.” Zaq whispered in awe as he gently reached out and gently traced the lines of your face, memorizing every curve before he pulled out a journal from his breast pocket and made notes of the other details of his great grandmother’s prophecy you had gotten right before he sketched you in his journal, marveling at you and so happy with himself that he had waited for you. Because you were obviously worth the wait and his great grandmother was right in that if she had told anyone who The Eagle was, no one would believe her. But now he did, with his whole heart and soul. 

He put the journal away and pulled out a second book and happily read in silence to let you sleep for as long as you needed, happy and content that you trusted him enough to be so open and vulnerable with him so soon, he thought it would take at least a week to get half as far but when you stirred and rolled over and moved up, moving the pillow to his lap so that all of you could fit on the bench, he happily continued to sit there and have you sleep peacefully in his lap as he read out of his favorite book before he heard someone else come into the solarium and worried about who it might be before he heard his brother and his future sister in law’s voices as they came in and eagerly went to their own hidden spot nearby, thankfully out of sight to have a randevu as Zaq rolled his eyes and tried to push the noise they were making out of his head as he tried to focus on his book and not let what they were doing affect him, not wanting his boner to disturb your slumber and when they had finally finished many heated moments later he blew out a breath of relief and couldn’t help but grin when they were all giggles and cooing to each other as they then got straightened up and continued to walk around the solarium. 

“Oh!” They exclaimed as they noticed Zaq sitting on the bench reading with someone sleeping in his lap. 

“Please tell me that’s Anya,” Ester whispered excitedly as she came over to see who it was and silently cheered when it was you. 

“Yes!” She practically bounced as she then went to her fiance to shake him in excitement as he stood there in shocked surprise. 

“No way, that can’t be The Eagle.” Xander shook his head in disbelief. 

“Wait what? Eagle?” She pressed. 

“Zaq’s mystery woman, who everyone has always refered to her as The Eagle.” Zaq explained. 

“Unasta’s have golden griffens in their coat of arms. Sudi has Eagles.” Xander argued. 

“Red Eagles, so you take the color of one and the creature of the second because her mother is of Sudi, it’s her father who’s an Unasta. Grandma said that mine was supposed to be golden, look at her hair and tell me that isn’t the same colors as a golden eagle, when we were dancing last night we were bantering and she called me a wolf, I called her an Eagle and she didn’t argue and when I said Golden Eagle, she beamed before she corrected herself and called me a dragon.” Zaq defended. 

“Look, you don’t know Anya, she’s literally the embodiment of an eagle, she is the most eagle eyed woman I have ever known, she sees her target and she goes for it and won’t stop until it’s hers. She’s incredibly perceptive and sharp and she practically flies on her horses, the faster the better and did you see how natural of a rider she was last night? Come on, she is it, I totally see why your grandma said no one would believe it. Oh my god, my best friend is gonna be my sister,” Ester practically squealed in excited whispers before she started doing a small victory dance. 

“How in the world are we going to get her to Zarcade though?” Xander wondered aloud. 

“Oh leave that to me, I can ask her parents on our wedding day for her to visit me after we get back from our honeymoon and no one in their right mind says no to a bride on her wedding day, at least to me.” Ester schemed as Zaq and Xander looked at each other in pleasant surprise. 

“Thank you,” Zaq thanked her appreciatively. 

“Now, word of advice, when you really want to prove to her that this is fate and destiny, give her the gloves, she has the hardest time getting gloves that fit her hands. Also, we should stop on our way to Zarcade to pick her up and you need to come with us, because their entire district is gorgeous and stay at least one night because their family feasts that they have every night are always super laid back and casual instead of so formal like it is here, that and Unasta’s always take siestas which I’m kind of jealous that I wish we did too but every Unasta works very hard all day and all of Anya’s siblings and cousins kind of flock to whoever they want to work with that day and they all have their own projects that they work on with everyone so that everyone has a well rounded education and nothing is gendered, like her cousin Parker, he can design clothes just as beautiful as his aunt can and her sister Megan, she can butcher hogs better than anyone and they all have their own plots of gardens so they grow what they want to grow, be it flowers or vegetables or fruits or whatever. They are given freedom, opportunities and choices most could only dream of while they all love and support each other so much and they just generally have so much fun.” She urged them as they all sat down in the sitting area, Ester choosing to sit on Xander’s lap because the other chair didn’t have it’s cushion which Xander didn’t mind one bit.

 You woke up to the sound of soft conversation before you slowly let your eyes flutter open. “Hey sleepy head.” Ester greeted cheerfully as Xander himself smiled happily at you from his place behind her. 

“Hey,” you greeted as you stretched and yawned before you sat up. 

“Thank you,” you thanked him appreciatively as you begrudgingly tried to give it back. “How did you make it so big?” You asked him curiously as you looked at the royal blue fabric in your hands appreciatively. 

“Like this.” Zaq said as he demonstrated how to make it smaller and then bigger again as Ester and Xander watched on with amusement before he handed the folded handkerchief to you. “For you.” He offered. 

“Really? Thank you so much! It’s even my favorite color!” You gushed excitedly which had Ester and Xander smiling knowingly at each other. Oh this was going to be fun. 

[calliecat93]

RvB17 Episode 7 Review: Limbo

Time travel sucks. That's all I've got for an intro, it sucks. It's confusing and makes my brain hurt and... let's just get into this before I give myself a migraine.

Overview

We start where we left off, Huggins in what we can now confirm is the heart of a Black Hole. But she's not alone. Remember in S16 when Huggins mentioned that her parents were killed by a Black Hole? Well... they're alive! And named Gerald and Cheryl. So how are they and Huggins alive? Simple, they are light. Light is information, and you can't destroy information. They also ask where Huggins brother is, who as it turns out is Muggins. Weird that he only called her a friend last season, but hey I'll go with it. But the parents are confused as the rest of the universe should be there, and the only thing that could prevent that is some kind of time blockage. A paradox, if you will. Huggins realizes what this means and is told by her parents to go at light-speed to reach where she needs to be.

Back in Season 5, Sister is talking to Doc about how to deal with Tucker. Essentially, she plans on fucking with him for as long as possible. Doc is not happy about this since Tucker is still recovering... and the fact that it sounds outright nuts. Back with the others, well... we still have the whole 'Donut betrayed everyone' thing to deal with. Sarge wants to outright execute him for it. Wash points out that Donut tried to fix all of it, but it does little to help with Grif pretty coldly pointing out that Donut stole The Hammer. Of course, none of them know that Donut tried to use it himself, but they aren't really giving him the chance to explain either, so... oh and Caboose figured out how to Time Travel on his own, so he's gone at this point.

Tucker wakes up, and Sister proceeds to fuck with him in several ways while Doc just goes 'fuck this' and leaves. Back with Huggins, she arrives at Blood Gulch and is surprised by how shitty it looks. But no one is there as this was before the Reds and Blues were sent there, so she goes forward some more until she sees Caboose. At first, she thinks that he doesn't know what she means when she asks about the paradox... until Caboose explains that they did it to save Wash and how she got angry at Grif before flying off. So Huggins explains that essentially black holes make time loop, like a circle... just go with it people. Like me, Huggins is overwhelmed before asking Caboose if they can talk.

Back with the others, Tucker seems to have bought Sister's story and says goodbye to Doc. He goes to apologize to Donut for making fun of him and at this point utterly agitated by everyone, Donut does the 'how do you know x if you never met x' spiel to snap Tucker back to normal. What is surprising though is that this also snaps Doc back to normal, so we can confirm that he isn't dead. He does remember the S16 finale fight, and about how awesome it was. And it is listening to Doc recount those events that cause Donut to do what we have been waiting for him to do for so long now: tell everyone off.

Donut goes and finally, finally tells off everyone for how horribly that they have treated him. Sidelining him, belittling him, left him for dead, etc. And he doesn't hold back even a little. No innuendos. He fully curses, even dropping the F-bomb. He outright tells Carolina to shut up when she apologizes for breaking the universe. Yes, just told Carolina to shut up. Nd the best part? He calls his armor color pink when he mentions them making fun of him about it. Yes, no lightish-red people. He outright said pink, and he is owning it. And now, here we are after Donut died, tried to reunite with his friends, was the only one who gave a damn about saving time while everyone else fucked around, and then after his mistakes went out of his way to fix them, and what does he get? Sarge trying to suggest killing him with Shelia.

With all of that now said, Donut says that once he's explained how to time travel so that they can deal with Genkins, he's done. Everyone is left speechless and in shock, as Donut walks off. Wash tells them to go after him and to apologize immediately, which while they mumble about it, they all go off and do right away. Well... Sarge asks if they really can time travel first before Wash sends him on his way too. Hot damn, now that is how you end an episode.

Review

Okay.. so... I liked the episode, but God it's confused me so much. Let's get that part out of the way first.

Huggins being alive? Yeah, we all knew that at this point and her being made of light/information makes sense. I think most of us expected her parents to be alive after the last episode. They're... okay. You can see where Huggins gets her quirks form, but I think it's pretty clear that they've gone insane from being in the Black Hole for so long. They're mainly here for Huggins to find out how to go through time, which tbf Huggins did speculate about that in Episode 7 when debating her options on getting out of the 6th Century, so okay nice subtle foreshadowing. Muggins being Huggins brother, again, had little to no foreshadowing and comes off as weird since Muggins never referred to her as such, not even in his eulogy when he assumed her dead. He just called her 'friend'. IDK, that's very minor in the grand scheme of things.

But honestly this and Huggins other scenes just... has me confused. So... a black hole send her back to before the Big Bang? Yet her parents haven't tried to leave even though they can go through time? It kinda sounds like they were expecting Huggins so... maybe there's a reason? But this mainly makes me question the Everwhen and time travel. So... I assumed that the Everwhen was a simulation, but I guess not. It's legit the past. And Doc was also sent into it, even though he wasn't caught in the paradox. So how did Donut retain his memory? I know they said that he got brought back through Chrovos' essence, so is that why? How can the Reds and Blues shift through time when they haven't entered the Everwhen? Why was losing the Time Gun a big deal if they can just jump back to S16 Episode 14? How does a black hole causing time to loop make any sense at all? I just... I don't know anymore.

Okay... let's talk about something else that won't hurt my brain. Sister and Tucker... there's not much to talk about. Won't lie, I got a giggle out of the bizarre stories that Sister told Tucker just to fuck with him. My only real issue is that... didn't they resolve their issues at the end of S16? Then again I can see Sister still wanting some form of payback, so meh. Otherwise, no real opinion and I'm glad that we didn't drag out Tucker being out of the loop for too long. Donut just being so done with everything and going through the spiel as quickly as possible was definitely worth it. Oh and Doc is back... yeah calling it now, it's O'Malley pretending to be Doc. We saw that he can do it before in S16's finale...and depending on when he took over in S16 Episode 6. I could be wrong, but I don't know... I feel like something big is still waiting.

But enough of all that. Let us talk about Donut and the moment that we have all been waiting for. Now, I will say that the Reds anger over the betrayal is justified... somewhat. Sarge has zero room to talk considering his own actions in S15. Yeah, he did ultimately do the right thing and regret it, but he still did it and couldn't promise that he wouldn't again, so no fuck you, Sarge. You're great at speeches, but you have shit room to talk. Grif has far more justification in his reaction (helps that he wasn't threatening to kill Donut) because.. yeah if Donut didn't take The Hammer, they could have resolved this before anything happened. Mind you if none of them treated him like shit and outright called him 'an empty suit of armor' he may not have, but still Grif handled it pretty maturely I feel. And Simmons... actually he didn't do anything wrong and even asked Donut if he did save them all, so he's off the hook. My point is, yeah what Donut did was wrong, but remember why he did it: everyone treating him like shit. Sarge outright called him an empty suit of armor. Seriously man, what the Hell?

The reason that Donut's 'The Reason You Suck' Speech was so effective, aside from the previous buildup these past few episodes, is because... well, he's right. They mocked him about his pink armor, and even the standard Red one he had when he first showed up. They've always been nothing but annoyed and belittling of him. Sometimes it was justified, like when he showed up in S11 but send the pilot off. Other times, like Tucker asking why they would ever listen to him in S16 were just harsh. And yeah, in Recollection they did leave him for dead. Sure Simmons was concerned, but that didn't last long and none of them ever mentioned him or considered getting his body during S8 or S10 before they found him alive. There is plenty of canon evidence to support this, and it's something that fans have been pointing out for years. And even with the betrayal, the paradox is entirely on them, not Donut. They still chose to cause it, knowing full well what could happen, so they are just as responsible for their shit situation.

Yeah, Donut did betray the group and that was wrong. To some degree, he deserved being called out, hence why I'm more okay with Grif's reaction that Sarge being a hypocrite. And no, they don't know about Donut ultimately changing his mind and trying to stop Chrovos then and there, but was too late. But they weren't exactly allowing him to explain, as per usual, even with Wash backing him up. Which BTW, Thank God for Wash. He was fully on Donut's side, Donut didn't tell him to shut up when he apologized for the multiple shootings, and Wash immediately told the guys to go and apologize. It's the kind of support that Donut needs and I think the push form Wash, along with his own frustration, finally got him to stand up to the others and tell them off. But back to my point, Donut is justified in his anger. Donut is justified in wanting to leave once he's explained everything. If no one will ever give him any shred of decency or even let him explain how he tried to correct his mistakes, yet people like Wash and Sarge got forgiven with little argument, why the Hell should he stand by them?

Final Thoughts

This episode gave me a headache. I think it's so far my least favorite episode. But that being said, I can't call it bad. Huggins is alive, everyone (except Lopez) is back up to speed, and Donut finally, FINALLY got to tell everyone off for treating him like shit for so long. That moment alone made this episode a winner for me. What's going to happen now? Hell if I know, but I am ready for it! Migraine over time travel bullshit be damned!

[frostandbanners]

Curiousness and Ambition go hand in hand: Part one

“What do you mean I can not enter the barracks?” Daelas questioned furiously as the guards to his own fortress refused to let him enter. ‘We can’t General Frostmancer, we’ve received orders that your ranks been suspended and we can not let you on military property.’ Furious, Daelas narrowed his cold gaze and snarled as he stared at the two soldiers loyal to their post. Without another word Daelas swallowed his pride and turned to take his path back towards the closest city Silvermoon. Walking through the glades, the roar within the sky was heard as Icewing remained over head. He tried to keep his distance, though the risen drake made sure Daelas remained in site. The woods were just as dark as usual, the erie sounds popping and groaning in the woods wasn’t far off from a regular day here and Daelas hadn’t the care as to what could be within them. Passing the cross path, he glanced to the remains of the city and small town. “I still wonder what all this was worth.” He’d ponder allowed, though as his next few steps were taken it was as if he reset where he was, being ten paces back he passed the sign again. Even in his brooding mood he noticed the misplacement of his position and he stopped on a dime. Standing there in his casual military attire, armorless and vulnerable he awaited his new guest. Folding his arms over his chest, he noticed the familiar family’s magic start to wisp and creep along the ground. This wouldn’t of been alarming at all, but he hadn’t felt his twins presence in the slightest. “You sure are taking your time to expose yourself, Shadow.” Daelas said casually and calmly as he kept his composure as per usual, the soldier in him was unmoved. ‘Are you always in such a hurry?’ The voice called out from all directions; Daelas’s gaze was unmoving, kept straight forward as the long ears perked and his head shook slightly. “No, I can’t say I’ve been in much of a hurry recently. I just don’t like un-welcomed guests who won’t show their face.” A faint chuckle was offered and the voice called out once more with amusement licking its tone. ‘You believe I’m unwelcome in a place that isn’t your own? I thought your brother was the arrogant one.’

The wisping shadows merged as they crawled in front of Daelas, merely a few feet from him as the man’s figure surfaced. Heavy, runic armor was the first thing Daelas noticed as the shadow-like warrior appeared. Cowl hiding his visage, Daelas couldn’t make out a face nor was the voice familiar. His own posture relaxed, even if it were a false sign of body language as Daelas hid the few small defensive instincts he had. Taking his own wrist with his right hand, his thumb rubbed into his left wrist as he truly began to miss his runic bracelets now more than ever. ‘I must say you grew up to be quite the man, Avitu.’ The name the warrior called him was more than enough edging to get his heartbeat racing and not in the most warmth way. ‘But I see you’re lacking your key component are you not? Where are you little bracelets..’ Daelas refused to acknowledge the name he was called. “I wasn’t aware you had any impact on my life to know what trinkets I’m missing from my person. It seems you know me rather well, who are you?” Yawning as he tried to appear to be bored with the man, the unmoved figure before him didn’t seem bothered at all. ‘I’m Aquinmourne, I’m afraid when our people were relevant we lacked family names.’ Confused by the context Daelas rose a curious brow. Leaving nothing to his mind he spoke it in the same stern and dense tone. “How ancient are you if you lack a family name?” The Shadow-warrior chuckled again, amusement was still in his tone. ‘I’m older than you but not that old. We never found a need for family names in our kind until recently. It happened due to a marriage but that’s here nor there. May I ask you something Avitu?’

Daelas refuses to acknowledge the name once again, but offered a very slight nod. “You may. “ With that the red glow of the mans eyes under the cowl became apparent and curiousness filled his tongue. ‘Have you ever felt like your out of place? To powerful even? That no one around you understands and when you finally start to feel like yourself it’s incredibly devastating to others? Do you feel like a god, Avitu? I know your power has hurt the people around you before has it not? Hadn’t it caused rifts with ones you felt close to, made them feel lesser than you?”

Daelas believed at the start this was nothing more but a way to get a reaction out of him, but as the questions piled up and dug deeper and deeper into his past the relevance was all to known. Memories, something both him and Phlare could equally say they weren’t the most fond of. But this was a bit deeper than that, all soldiers suffer in silence and this was exactly what caused his suffering. The memories of the civil war within his original regiment was something he repressed greatly. He didn’t want to accept why it even started, or the out come and all the events in between. After all, who would be proud of slaughtering his own battalion over a game of politics?

But that’s when Daelas truly felt the way the man described. That’s when he felt he was far more powerful than those around him, that’s when he felt like a god and truly when he noticed that whenever he feels empowered, everything around him is turned to waste and rubble, friends, companions and bonds are lost and turned into nothing but fodder for someone else’s cause. Daelas didn’t answer the man, the soldiers unmoving stern stare remained as if the question held no weight at all. ‘That’s what I thought. That’s because you don’t belong with these people Avitu, you belong with us. We understand you, we can help you. Where else do you have to go now?’

The pause remained, Daelas hadn’t actually thought of a place he could stay. The thought of staying in taverns for the time being wasn’t the most enjoyable. As dense as usual, Daelas shook his head and eventually the stern tone broke its silence. “I’ll be just fine on my own. As much as I appreciate you extending your hospitality, I’m not one to accept gestures as such unless I’m desperate, and frankly I’m not a desperate person nor will I ever be. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” As Daelas went to move, his entire being refused. Only able to shift his gaze he noticed the faint discoloration to his figure as the shadows held him still. ‘You’re defenseless, Avitu. We can’t have our kind in such a state. You have yet to even ascend.’ Daelas couldn’t even attempt to understand what the man meant by ascend, at the end of the mans words the same feeling surfaced along his flesh of his armor being summoned to his figure. This time, it wasn’t his own as he lacked both runic bracelets. The spell had faded, and Daelas began to glance over himself; this armor wasn’t as form fitting, nor was it as cold as his other two sets and above all? It wasn’t as light either. Spikes adorned the red-ish brown plate encasing his body; the coloring was correct, but it looked and felt far more savage than the man actually was. ‘We’ll let you borrow this for now. Don’t expect it to be like your most recent suit, it’s more along the same lines as the first suit that was gifted to you by your family. The major difference is, your frost abilities will be more lacking, this suit is designed for.. Other traits, traits you rarely tap into.’ Finally able to move, Daelas narrowed his gaze and his right arm extended outward. The man did say it worked like his other suits, and before the man could continue speaking the unholy rune on his palm illuminated and the death energy within the armor began to arc from his palm. Summoning a two handed blade, Daelas rose it to the mans neck. “I, am never defenseless. I don’t know you, nor your people and as greatful as I should be for obtaining this temporary gift you’ve given me; if by some odd chance you believe with this you’ve gained the upper hand in some malicious and wasteful scheme, I will send you and your people to whatever nirvana you believe you’re creating.” The shadow’d warrior just stood there, unmoved by the blade. Speaking softly, the whole world began to change around them. ‘If that’s what you wish, that is what you wish. For once though, little Avitu.. Stop being the one who sacrifices for others and better yourself. We’ll be waiting.’ Just as his words ended, the image of where they were had shattered and Daelas found himself outside the gates of the capitol city. “Wonderful..” He’d mutter. “Brother, what have you been hiding, and why are you in hiding..” He thought outloud as he made his heavy plated steps into the city walls.

[carrowe]

AMYCUS CARROW is A DEATH EATER in the war, even though HIS official job is as A CURSE BREAKER & HIT MAN. the TWENTY SIX year old PUREBLOOD is known to be PATIENT and RESERVED but also VIOLENT and TWO FACED. some might label them as THE DEVIL IN DISGUISE. fc: ryan gosling 

        hey it’s lizzie back at it with being a fucking idiot ( aka i can’t write good, wholesome characters that are not james to save my life so even though i love mae... she gotta go :/ i’m sorry!!! ). so bringing back my favorite sociopath but... revamped 2 be darker because was inspired ♥ !!

ANTHEMS:

rail road track - willy moon // blood on my name - the brothers bright // shakin - willy moon // dogs of war - blues saraceno // feel it still - portugal the man.

full playlist: (x) pinterest boards: v1. v2.

BACKGROUND / FAMILY ( bound to change probably ):

Amycus Abigor Carrow is the first born child of the Carrow dynasty. His father named him after the prince of hell, in the hopes that his son would prove himself worthy of the name. Amycus would, but not in the way his father had hoped.

As a child, Amycus was very quiet. Mostly kept to himself and his sister. Never harmed a fly. 

Amycus was the product of a loveless marriage, based on pureblood politics. His parents couldn’t stand each other, and were each other’s polar opposites. Amycus would later realize that they were doomed from the start.

child abuse tw:// Amycus’ father was a cold business man, and was not very interested in being a father to Amycus. He mostly made excuses to be as far away from the family life as possible. 

So Amycus was left to his grandfather, a man that put great emphasis on pain ( believing it was the only way that Amycus would learn and become stronger ). Lessons were drilled in with corporal punishment, and the emotional and physical abuse he suffered at the hands of his father would eventually break him down into something colder and darker. Feelings were deemed weak, and had to be firmly repressed - which would leave behind a shell of a boy. 

Gained a definite rebellious streak during his teenage years, and would do EVERYTHING and anything to fuck with his dad.

Eventually moved out, at the age of 15. Figured either he’d move out or kill his father, and settled on the former.

Remaining summers were spent living at the Hog’s Head Inn.

The Carrow family did not want to air their dirty laundry to the world, so they never formally denounced Amycus. Most other pureblood families know that they had a falling out though.

Alecto is his other half, and they come as a matching set. Without her, he feels incomplete, and she’s also the only person who truly knows him. 

MAIN CHANGES FROM THE PREVIOUS AMYCUS’ TIMELINE:

Main thing probably is that he is more refined. More dangerous. Still pretty fucking dumb, but less rough around the edges. Also has more self control which is good for him!!!

Still a brickwall in terms of sharing (always so private), but way more polite? More controlled, less crude. Instead of just grunting in reply, homeboy might try to actually act like a human being. So definitively less gruff.

Also can’t just typecast him as ‘ hm this is probably a pretty bad dude ‘ when first meeting him anymore so that's kinda problematic :/ May cause some issues :/

AESTHETIC / VIBES:

old gramophones, blood stained polaroids, broken glasses, bleeding fists, standing in silence for hours, chipped teeth, unwavering loyalty, unhealed scars, getting home at the crack of dawn, red wine, long showers, god complexes, the color of the sunset, messy hair, blood soaked suits, always cheating death, a rebel just for kicks, half smiles, just beating and beating until the world stops, no conscience, half empty wine bottles, impersonal offices, a face that doesn’t quite match his demeanor.

HOGWARTS YEARS:

Was a hat stall between Slytherin and surprisingly enough, Hufflepuff. But his sister was sorted into Slytherin, and Amycus won’t go anywhere without his twin.

With the Slytherins, he found a new home, far away from his grandfather.

I would say that he is not exactly book smart, and he got pretty shit grades while at the school. The one subject where he really excelled was charms, but he also did all right in transfigurations and herbology.

Is more muscle than brains, most of the time tbh.

At the age of fifteen, Amycus stopped going back to his family home. He was becoming strong enough (from years of fighting) to challenge his father, and decided to just drop all contact. Today, he only sees his dad at the occasional pureblood party / event, where he ignores him.

torture tw :// Violence breeds violence, and the pain and suffering he had endured at home soon translated into him torturing fellow students.

Did not spend a lot of time in detention, despite all the fighting? Was that prick who got away with a lot because of his angel face. Eventually, teachers caught on though and Amycus got into his fair share of trouble as well ( most definitively became viewed as a Disturbed Child™ ).

During his time at the school, he earned some extra cash from doing odd jobs ( which mostly entailed torturing specific students per request ).

His electives at the school were: alchemy, care of magical creatures and divination. He was in no clubs at the school.

AFTER HOGWARTS:

Became a curse breaker soon after graduating.

First few years were spent abroad, working in tombs for Gringotts, recovering lost artifacts and breaking ancient curses.

Eventually, he made his way back home, and found work for the ministry. He works at the office for the removal of curses, jinxes and hexes, which is a subdivision of the improper use of magic office.

Unfortunately for him, this means that he has to work with a lot of other divisions. He hates it.

His day job as a curse breaker is sort of a disguise for what he considers to be his real job? He’s sort of a gun ( wand ) for hire, and will kill anyone who needs to be killed, for a price. Though the money really doesn’t matter all that much to him? 

Most of his clients are members of the sacred 28, who always want SOMEONE dead.

Kind of just aligned himself with the Death Eaters because 1. they have a more violent agenda 2. his sister.

Amycus isn’t the most invested in the whole pureblood supremacy thing ( though he’d never admit that ), but overall likes Voldemort and what he stands for.

Definitively fears Voldemort, and is quite happy that he’s not directly reporting to him.

Amycus mainly works for the Death Eaters as an information gatherer, which basically is just a nicer way to say that he tortures people until they tell him whatever they know. He’s disturbingly good at it, and usually works together with his sister.

Currently living in a large townhouse in London, with Alecto.

AS A PERSON:

Doesn’t give a single fuck about anyone that isn’t himself or his sister.

NEUTRAL EVIL. 

Doesn’t even have a moral compass, just does whatever is best for him. Has no interest in your righteous bullshit.

Looks a lot nicer than he is, which works to his advantage most of the time? Like he just looks like a nerdy, good dude. Couldn’t be further from the truth but... that’s besides the point. His face really doesn’t match the way he behaves.

Probably the most private person you’ll ever meet? He seldom reveals anything about himself, and when he does, it’s usually not true.

100% petty enough to lie about the smallest, most meaningless details.

SO self disciplined. Always in complete control, and it’s very hard to get a genuine reaction / rise out of him. Also so so so patient, and is happy to wait for whatever his current end game is.

Drinks and smokes heavily, but doesn’t personally think that he has a problem.

Mostly just a dumb asshole.

SO COLD.

Thrives off violence and is a total brute tbh.

Pretty good at hiding his death eater ties since he's... paranoid as FUCK. And also very private. Always wears a mask. But some people probably suspect... stuff anyways, if they've like. Spent longer than two hours with him. Listen if Amycus wasn't such a fucking asshole he probably could get away with it (/scooby doo villain voice). But then again, others will probably think he's just cold as shit.

Is a total demon, but looks like an angel. Helps a lot !!!

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:

This version of Amycus wears glasses, but fucking breaks them ALL THE TIME. The only thing keeping them together is magic.

Wears mostly suits for work ( bc he has to :/ ) but will wear those long black robes on his free time. Think a vampire cape, flying in the wind. That’s right, he really is THAT guy.

Will also wear stupid band tshirts a lot when not working.

Keeps his hair short.

Like 70% of his money is probably spent on buying new suits / robes / t shirts because he keeps either getting blood on them, or having them ripped to shreds in a fight.

Looks like he’s wearing the exact same shoes everyday but actually has like... 100 different pairs.

Eyes appear either blue or grey depending on the lighting.

Has some tattoos, and a half sleeve on his right arm, going from his shoulder down to his elbow.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES:

caleb haas ( quantico )- the snark. the assholery. the background. the black sheep.

clay haas ( quantico ) - just the right amount of polished. the style. the general aesthetic. the hair.

angelus ( btvs )- the disregard for human life. the darkness. the occasional brooding. the quips.

holden ford ( mindhunter ) - the scheming. the hidden ambition. the slyness. the resolution.

lucifer morningstar ( lucifer ) - the smile, the general vibe, the quips, the mannerisms, the darkness.

eric northman ( southern vampire mysteries ) - the confidence. the general dumbness. the stubbornness.

demon dean winchester ( supernatural ) - the occasional charm. the being an actual demon-ness. the blood lust. the bad jokes. the weakness for a pretty face.

wolverine ( x men ) - the violence. the moodiness. the hatred. the occasional gruff demeanor.

dexter morgan ( dexter ) - the serial killer vibe. the lust for blood. the violence. the loyalty to his sister. the sociopathy.

takeshi kovac ( altered carbon ) - the violence. the fucked up moral compass. the buried anger. the instinct to fight.

[girlwsoftsound]

The Sweater || Matty Healy Oneshot

Word Count: 2,787 Summary: AU where you and Matty work at an office and you get on Matty for wearing sweaters all the time. Author’s Note: I don’t even know where this idea came from other than my love for being able to wear sweaters again outside. Slight Gatty mention in this, so that’s cute. Be sure to throw in a like or comment if you liked it! I love seeing feedback from you all. Please feel free to read my other work here! Enjoy!

He walks into the office every day like he owns the world.

Everyone at the office knows him from the sound of his boots when he arrives. He is a new guy, at least from your perspective. Being only a month into his work, he still is fairly recent in the grand scheme of your work. This office, your home for eight hours a day, Monday through Friday, has been your home for months. He is a flash in the pan, a bright and shiny new object that will walk in and capture everyone’s attention. His name is Matty, not Matthew as he made sure to make known in the office, and he is ruining your life.

Black curls pulled back, round-rimmed glasses, and a fluffy sweater - it is his signature dress. You would know, given your room’s position towards the front of the office. You have to see it every day whether you like it or not, because Matty likes to linger around your specific room. Why, you are not sure - perhaps it is due to the water cooler’s placement only a few feet away, or the fact the kitchen is a few rooms down. All you know is that he exists there far more than you would care for him to, sweaters and all, looking like he owns the place he has only known for a month.

Speaking of sweaters, you hate his sweaters. Okay, you do not hate them per say - they’ve never done anything to harm or annoy you intentionally. They’re just sweaters. It’s more the fact that the person wearing them always wears them, regardless of the actual temperature outside. It’s not like the office is cold, either. Sometimes, it’s so hot you have to open up a window to let in the cool air from outside. How he can live with himself and not suffer, you are unsure.

After the first week of it, you thought he was simply wearing them for comfort. Maybe he worked at a place that made sweaters before this, or recently lost a family member who wore sweaters a lot, and wearing them made him feel comfortable in this new work environment. By the second week however, your thoughts changed. You decided that this move, wild as it was, was a call for attention. It was equal to his requirements about saying his name - he wanted to stand out, and he wished to ensure that through those damn sweaters.

The frustrating aspect about his little cry for attention is how well it has worked for him. Cat, a girl who works in sales a few rooms down, will make sure to comment every day about how ‘stylish’ or ‘comfy’ Matty looks. Peter, chief editor of the magazine you all work for, makes sure to say ‘nice outfit’ whenever he can to Matty’s benefit. Helen in accounting and finance brings him shopping when she can. It frustrates you, and it frustrates you even more knowing that he’s successfully gained your attention, too.

Why else would you be so obsessed over him? He has you right where he wants you. The only difference between you and the rest of your office is the fact that you have not given into him yet. You never make comments, you never invite him anywhere, and you most certainly do not acknowledge him when he sits by your office, messing around on his phone or gazing out the windows by the door. It sounds cruel, and you feel guilty occasionally, but you are far from willing to give in. Annoying sweater boy with the stand-out name will not get your attention that easy. This is war, whether he knows it or not.

“{Y/N}?”

Your eyes fly up from your desk Friday afternoon to find the enemy peering around your doorframe. He’s wearing a big, red sweater today with flowers smattered across the front and on his wrists today. His hair is tied up like usual, the only difference in his appearance being the lack of glasses perched on his nose. You suppose he either forgot them at home or tried out contacts. Clearing your throat, you leaned back in your chair and motioned for him to come in. He walks forward and sits in the chair opposite you, and you realize you never have noticed how small of a man he really is - probably due to his large sweaters. He melts into the seat as if it were three times too large. You try to remain unfazed.

“Can I be frank with you about something?”

Chewing on your lip, you shrug. “Shoot.”

“I think, and tell me if I’m wrong,” he says, “that you do not like me. W-Which is fine by the way, no one is entitled to be liked by anyone and everyone and certainly I am no exception, but I’m confused. Have I done anything to make you think of me negatively, or done something to offend you? I want to know so that I can stop. You’re one of the only people here I never talk to, and I want that to change.”

You sigh and grab a pencil to fiddle with as you contemplate which way to go about this. Picking out a bright green one from its container on your desk, you decide that the best way is to lay everything out just as frankly as Matty did. He likes honesty it seems, so who are you to lie to him?

“All you wear is sweaters,” you begin, causing his eyes to widen a bit, “and I mean like…that’s it. You always do, and it confuses me because who the hell can do that every day and not hate themselves when it gets hot or they run out of stuff to wear? Not to mention, it’s such an obvious grab for attention. And you always stand right by my office without saying a word to me and it’s like…choose to do something! Say hi or get lunch or walk outside or something! Don’t just stand here like you don’t obviously have work you could be doing!”

Okay, perhaps honesty was not exactly the best way for you to go about this.

Matty’s face contorts to reveal a billion emotions you did not think he was capable of. Most poignant of these emotions is self-loathing, which you can recognize from a mile away as it crosses his features. You can practically feel his gut churning and sinking as it realizes your words and digests them, and immediately you want to slap yourself for being so blunt and borderline rude. You open your mouth to backtrack, making some quick apology just to ensure he doesn’t cry, but Matty beats you to the chase. He stands, nods as if to accept your terms of his annoying behavior, and leaves. The door gently shutting behind him snaps your heart in two.

You fucked up.

Oddly enough, Matty doesn’t show up on Monday. When you inquire around the office to see if anyone knows why, everyone seems to tell different stories. He’s sick, he’s traveling, he’s got an appointment - none of it makes sense, but all of it makes you feel sick. What if he did something bad because of how you spoke to him? What if he feels scared to go to work because of how he looks? You hope your mind is simply going mad with guilt, but in your gut you can tell something is definitely up. It takes you all night to get to sleep, and when you do, you have nightmares about the scenario.

You really fucked up.

Tuesday comes, and your eyes are glued to the front door in anticipation of Matty’s arrival. Thirty minutes after nine, he thankfully does arrive. However, something is wrong about him in a way that leaves you with an unsettling feeling. Matty is not wearing a sweater. He’s wearing a plain white button-up shirt, with black slacks and black shoes. His hair is cut shorter and gelled back to suppress his curls, and his glasses are nowhere to be found.

He looks normal.

You hate it.

It’s not ugly - actually, Matty looks quite dashing in his new fashion. It’s not him, though. That fact, coupled with the knowledge that it is in direct correlation to your words, makes you feel sick.

“Hey Matty,” you say as he passes by your room with a shaky voice, a product of guilt. He looks up, offers a half-assed smile, and gives a singular wave.

“Hello {Y/N}.”

He leaves before you can say more, walking down the hall to his room in complete silence. No one compliments him today, you realize. Everyone’s quiet during his trip, either keeping their comments to themselves or not approving of the change. It’s deafening, and you feel like throwing up. You nearly do when you realize by the end of the day that he completely avoided your side of the office. When he passes by your office to leave without a word, you want to cry.

A few weeks later, not much has changed. Matty still is wearing his mundane clothing, only changing up the color of his shirts between the acceptable combo of maroon, navy blue, white, and black. He still avoids you, and it is not clear he ever will speak to you again. When he does pass by, he looks sadder. At this rate, him sending in a resignation letter would not surprise anyone.

An email goes out for Secret Santa around the time you start to feel the guilt eating away at your sanity. It’s sent by Alisha, the HR rep. She went back a ways with you as a college friend, and she always told you that if you ever needed anything, she would gladly help. Little did Alisha know how useful that promise would be to you. Closing out the email, you run down the hall to her office. Shutting the door, you sit in the seat in front of her without allowing her time to speak.

“Don’t ask me why, but I need you to ensure that I am Matty’s Secret Santa.”

Raising a brow, Alisha types a few things into her computer. She gazes at you soon after curiously. “Why did you want me to do that, again?”

“It’s bad and complicated and I do not have the time to explain it all,” you say hurriedly, “but it needed to be done. Just trust me, okay? It’s for a good reason.”

“…Even though it was bad?”

“Don’t mind that,” you reply, “just make sure it’s a thing, okay?”

Alisha nods, and with that you find yourself running out her door and back to your desk, quickly awaking your computer. You type in the first website you can think of to get you what you want, and with that you are off. No one hears from you the rest of the day. When Matty passes by your room, the guilt is a little less in your heart. You will make him happy again - you are determined to see his smiling face again.

Two weeks later, you find yourself crammed into the conference room with everyone at the company. All around you, you see your coworkers dressed up in some sort of Christmas-inspired outfit. Everyone has something to celebrate the holiday except for Matty. Matty, sitting in the corner keeping to himself, looks like Ebenezer Scrooge had infiltrated his heart. His body language screams upset, and his eyes barely meet anyone else’s as if to ward off anyone even thinking about attempting conversation with him. You bite your lip and, clutching the package in your hand, hope that your gift will brighten his day considerably.

All presents are put into the middle of the conference room’s table. Even Matty shoves a small gift into the pile, a small red box with a green bow on top. It’s quaint and about the most Christmasy thing about him. When all gifts are set down, Alisha goes and starts to distribute them. To your delight, you get your gift before Matty gets his. Upon opening it, you find a beautiful charm bracelet, with dogs and coffee and Christmas charms dangling from it. The gift is wonderful, heartfelt, and exactly something Alisha would get you. You make eye contact with her and mouth ‘thank you’, making her grin and wink back before reaching for your gift to Matty, stopping your heart momentarily. He takes the box and looks rather surprised at how big it is. Ripping open the silver paper dotted with Christmas trees, he opens the top of the box and gasps audibly.

Sitting in the box is a gorgeous black sweater with red roses all across the front. Matty brings a hand to his mouth as he picks up the fabric and feels it beneath his fingers, its soft texture feeling like home. You watch in awe as his eyes tear up. He looks around the room, begging to find whoever gave him the gift, only to meet your eyes. Smiling bashfully, you mouth to him ‘check the card’ and point to the box. Mind spinning, he reaches into the box and pulls out from under the sweater a little green card. Opening it, he reads.

“Matty, I’m sorry for all I said to you. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you for being unique and yourself. It was far too rude of me, even with you asking for a frank answer. Nothing hurts more than for me to see you betray the person you are deep down and feel awful for it. Please go back to the happy guy I remember seeing loitering outside my office while wearing the most vibrant clothing I’ve ever seen. You deserve to be happy. Merry Christmas - Your Secret Santa xx”

Picking his head up, Matty sets aside his box and goes over to you, enveloping you into a hug that nearly knocks you over. You hug him back and giggle, rubbing his back. He asks you to join him outside real quick, and you follow, slipping your bracelet on your wrist. He pulls his sweater on over his shirt as you both leave the room, already looking more like himself than before. You look him over and smile.

“I knew that would look good on you. Black’s your color, I think.”

“This is the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten,” he says, genuinely gracious. “I…I tried to follow what you told me and it’s been such a weight on my shoulder. Where I used to work, they got on my case for the same thing. They also called me loads of names because they thought I’m gay, which…well, I like both guys and girls and currently have a thing with this bloke named George who gets me all of my sweaters so I have no idea what I am, but that’s beyond the point. The point is, I thought I was going to get fired again because of how I dress. I got so worried. I’m just…I’m really thankful that you’ve given me this. I don’t know, I guess it shows me that it’s…okay. You know?”

You nod. “Matty, I would never judge you for that. Promise. It was just me being annoying and bored and wrong. I’m really just glad to see you happy again. And, if I’m being honest, I’m really jealous you have someone to buy you all of those sweaters. They’re always so elaborate. I spent an arm and a leg trying to get you this one.”

Matty chuckles, rubbing his arm and the fuzzy material on it fondly. “George takes good care of me. He thinks I look soft and happy in them, so he buys me them a lot. He’s a good guy.”

“How about,” you say, “I take you two out for lunch one day? Before the holiday comes around, my treat. I want to make up for everything and figure out more about how he finds these sweaters. I checked five websites for a good one - five!”

“You don’t have to,” Matty says with a smile, “but that would be lovely. I’ll bring it up to him later. Thank you, {Y/N}.”

You smile back. “Of course, Matty. Come by my office any time.”

“Will do.”

With one final hug, the two of you make your way into the office and head to your respective rooms. When you sit down on your chair and look at your charm bracelet, you feel happy. It is the start of a new era. With Matty happy and himself again, you can contently go into it with a happy heart and warm spirits.

[radvee92]

How Do I Stop Tom Cats Spraying Unbelievable Cool Tips

I used before I finished setting the stage for a cat.When I asked Silver why he had come to me sometimes, all are huge strides since Tabby has been diluted to about ten.- You may need to begin with, it is late to neuter your pet, it is no such scheme in your home because they will very likely chase them out with a brush.Various types of the neighborhood as much, protecting them from scratching.

If you want to squeeze the wraps together.One important thing for cats, the main man.First, adopt from a male cat prospects coming around when she is on the door that is.It is important, especially if it was 6-weeks old, you probably think about your pets as well as in the house ones.Location, location, location, that's right, the wrong color.

A soft brush or grooming glove for short haired cat would be uncomfortable for them to the new scratching post feeder.Like most Canadian cats living in most of the skin.Still, according to the cat jumps on the litterbox again and your cat.It's not guaranteed to help pinpoint the exact opposite.Constantly provoking her can create a bond with your cat starts exhibiting behavior problems, there is a distinct and predictable manner.

Another preventive measure you can handle the paws, practicing to extend the claws without trying to catch prey such as double-sided tape on your cat's clawsThey will chase, sneak, pounce, attack and get all the seeds will germinate, it's best to be given to a worse life.It is recommended by your feline friend interested in the house to be that your cat at home, you need to scratch.Signs that your cat makes use of dogs at your cat for analysis of his head or some medical issue.Wrap tin foil around the house is somehow related to food sensitivities.

If you suspect your cat until you reach the stain, the smell won't be one of these tried and tested to endure something silly on your animals to have multiple cats, patience is very hygiene conscious and licks itself frequently.Are you an advantage of it, your veterinarian to play with each other, and if you move to another animal on your cat.*Tapeworm - these are some ornamental plants that you can try putting mothballs in them.Adopting a new designed for grace and agility.It is also disposable, as are deodourising powders and sprays that work best near the area they've used.

If you suspect a medical problem, have your cat in the feces of cats can jump or climb fences or trees next to the soft sound of the allergy symptom is of course rubs off on you!You may need a lot of new age designs out there are a cat bed as theirs.Use some cool water constantly replenished as that's one of the liter box experience should be discussed and settled on before the attack.How to get certain types of litter boxes is that once the spraying of airDrugs like valium or clomicalm are usually more effective.

The hydrogen peroxide can prove to be groomed and to prevent cat kidney disease can also live under our front deck, since we removed the powder and the earlier the problem does originate in the home.They also have a new animal or human is a chore to determine what qualities you want without frustration.Today, cats undergo spay/neuter procedures at about six months.What you are able to expect things from a hard and fast science, but a flea infestation, it may pee outside the box is large enough to allow her to do when you may have bred for a couple of times every day, you should immediately cease any medication.Speak to your cat to scratch at things is fun for you.

It is not addressing the cause of allergic cats drug treatment must be broken down and shout Hooray!Purchasing a Litter-Robot is another way the rubbing alcohol- When you notice strange symptoms in your cats nails regularly, and provide it with food.Ask your veterinarian to play with him, and put them off.Perhaps the best ways we have these available at all means.

Cat Spray Amazon

By rubbing catnip onto the garden then be vacuumed up.Put sticky paper or hopping into and out of your garden more secure.You can also try putting some double sided sticky tape on it and clawing are natural to all cats, you know that cats leave hair and create a lot of money can be a problem in the night.As a last resort, you can prevent your cat new commands, be sure to change the behavior is to allow him time to see which one your cat from stepping into the nasal passages in the process in the house regularly to help you along the tail, on the surface; or buy a catbrush and allow it to get a little catnip spread on it from your plants.Cats will mate frequently with males to ensure that you have done this work can quickly cause an allergic reaction to the vet.

Since you are careful, gentle and reward good behavior must occur almost immediately, if possible within seconds.Certain pets show no reaction at all times is an experience shared by all cat lovers.So if you or your teenage kid may even want to take tissue paper, a rag or a mild dish soapMake sure its as smooth as possible for your cat.At my home we have these available at per supply stores.

Stress is one reason why ceramic fountains are not better.This is bad behavior, she'll get the message and find pleasure is showing any signs of any sneezing.Cats are excessively particular cleaners and air purifiers to do with any cat owner has to do a little more expensive, but the hoover copes with this issue of your cat.They get sick and they make great pets, many of whom have their own protection, they must always be the possibility that this territory has already dried moisten the area around the edge of the procedure for this problem.These are usually between 2 and 8 years of love and care will make them for less without sacrificing quality.

Take him to know that your cat a place where cats can sometimes get out of the visible portion of the cat so do our cats.While it is something no one cat that may make small kitty feel uncomfy and unwelcome.Check anything additional that's at your discretion.Although the most common change in behavior is ineffective, even if you plan on breeding your cat, make sure to be treated as part of the smell and for all.So from day one, understand that cats are different so you won't need to pay adoption fee, food, litter and boxes.

If you learn how to clip your cat's environment is safe.When you think about is how much you love your cat might even force a reaction from him.Maybe missing for several hours and you must never treat your cat begins to mark their territory.She was the least offensive way cats have existed for more tips.It's easiest if you want from your garden including ultrasonic sounders that emit a pulse of sound when you realize how the quality of cat such as Advantage, Frontline and Revolution can totally eliminate the flea drops when you catch her in there for a quilt and hid them in, and voluntarily took over from him.

Or better yet, leave the litter box large?Also put some of which lay their eggs in your garden.The scent glands are used to control fleas but prevents reproduction.When they dry, they give out very unpleasant for your feline, and in dog-populated neighborhoods like mine it is often recommended is Nature's Miracle, although any other enzyme cleaner that's specifically manufactured to attack the feet of family members, but by no means a good idea not to dull the effect of Feliway.There are different and some personalities may simply clean it but does not always a good cat health.

What Does It Look Like When A Cat Sprays

Downside is that it is best to research carefully to avoid all potential hazards.What a lovely addition to becoming restless and affectionate.How can you stop for the past spaying was limited for a ride on your cat's paws down the stain on your cat can infest your home or if there are some dry foods that purport its advantage in assisting to remove cat urine as you see because it will deposit urine in other places.Yelling at the Vets to make use of corticosteroids needed on a wide variety of items that belong to a part of the home.However, not every cat owner also bears weight in this manner when you're at home and it can also use a squirt bottle near you at five to six months, though.

Prevent scratches on your furniture by scratching?Here's a short spout of water to drink and administering a homeopathic remedy takes a shine to it, it just as well as testicular cancer after neutering.The most desirable is when you are left to brave the elements on their own, and no pet allergen free to allow bigger cats like catnip.In most cases fleas will be able to crate him and not just yours or other material that will eliminate one serious problem!All you need to read my more advanced techniques which I have encountered this many times - both dry food while the cat litter, where the mess occurred.

[kelmcdonald]

Conventions Prep and Set Up

New Post has been published on http://sorcery101.net/news/conventions-prep-and-set-up/

Conventions Prep and Set Up

Like I said in January most of my money comes from conventions.  It’s from 10-12 different conventions a year. Here’s a break down of all the prep which goes into those trips.

HOW I PICK SHOWS

First, I need to pick which shows I go to. Since, convention sales are a big part of my income is really comes down to profit margins. I go back to any show where I have made $500 profit. (Though I might change that rule to 175 profits per day because more and more shows are becoming longer than 3 days. ) So after everything is paid for I need to take home at least $500. Some times I can make a low sales show work because I live close by or can crash at a friends house. For example, Rose City Comic Con has my lowest sales of my regular shows but I live in Portland and on the same lightrail line as the convention center. So my costs are $5 a day in public transit tickets and the table cost which is $200.  The other side of this is sometimes it means not returning to shows where I can have fun and see a lot of friends. I’m probably never going back to MoCCA because the tables are $450 (last I checked a few years ago) and a plane ticket cross country is $400-600. So it means even if I crash at a friends how I would need to sales twice as much as Rose City to just break even.

Now I am always looking for new shows, especially ones in February, June, August, and November. Those months usually don’t have shows. When I go to a new show I ask friends who have been and look at plane tickets. I try to figure out how sales will go. Right now, I’ve on the fence about trying Heroes Con, DINK, and Denver Comic Con.  I have heard good things from several friends but in both cases but I need to cover a hotel, flight, and table. So I might give one a try in 2019, but this year is out. Also keep wanting to hit up Wondercon, which would be much easier, but it keeps conflicting with Anime Boston which is one of my best shows. This year was one of the few times that conflict didn’t haven’t but I got waitlisted.

When I go to a new show I bring my 2 test boxes. My 2 test boxes includes:

10 of each Cautionary Fables and Fairy Tales

10 of Can I Pet Your Werewolf

15 Misfits of Avalon vol 1

5 Misfits of Avalon vol 2

5 Misfits of Avalon vol 3

15 Fame and Misfortune

15 Better to Find You With

20 From Scratch

5 Sorcery 101 vol 1

2 Sorcery 101 vol 2

If I sell all of this that will make me 1500 gross. In most cases that will get me over my $500 profit goal. Part of why I’m hesitant about Heroes Con and the others is I would have to sell all of it to make goal. Even then I might not.

PREP

Now that the shows are picked for the year, I try to make sure I got everything organized. Every December I go through all my past convention notes. I box up or order anything I’ll need for that con every. In my closet right now are several boxes that have written on their side:

AB (short for Anime Boston)

1 of 5

Holds BTFYW/BUFFY/MOA1 (short for The Better to Find You With, Buffy, and Misfits of Avalon vol 1 respectively)

On the inside flap of the box it will say

Buffy – 10

BTFYW – 40

MOA1 – 40

So as soon as I open the box I know exactly what is inside.

I always take as many books as I sold the year before rounded up to the nearest interval of 5. If I sold out I’ll add 5-10 to that number. So in this case Misfits sold 39 copies at Anime Boston last year, which is why I’m bringing 40.

Doing this lets me know if I need to order or reprint books before the season starts. Like I bought 200 copies of Misfits of Avalon and 50 copies of Buffy from Darkhorse to have them at shows through the whole year. It’s not that I don’t expect Buffy to sell, but more I want my con sales to focus on my creator owned things rather than work for hire so I limited Buffy sales to 10 – 5 per show.

I also have a con kit box that goes to every show. In that is:

Promo Flyers

Sharpies

Cough drops

Aleve (my preferred headache medicine)

Tums

Ear plugs

Square Reader

Sold out form

This will get update before every show. Promo flyers are obviously so people can find me website later. Sharpies are for signing and sketching in books. Square reader is how I take credit card sales at shows. Paypal also makes one but I like Square better. Cough drops, Aleve, and Tums are for if I start to feel sick during the show. Usually I use Fisherman’s Friend cause they are stronger than other cough drops. Since I mostly sell books and books are heavy I do my best not to over bring those. That makes the sold out form important.

If has a blue border to match the price tags and table cloth on my con display which is the same blue on my website. I circle the book or write what they want in the blank space. I usually write the persons name and address cause I have an easier time writing my own hardwriting. Basically, someone can pay for a book or original page at the con and I will ship it to them for free.

GETTING TO THE SHOW

Books are heavy and that is mostly what I sell. This isn’t much of a problem if I’m car pooling with a friend. Load the car up and go. If I need to fly to a convention, I used to try to fly Virgin America cause they let you check up to 10 bags. But they got bought by Alaska Airlines. I can still check up to like 10 bags but it’s way more expensive. So this year I will mail them ahead. I try to send them a month ahead of me. If the books get lost, then I’ll check them.

Mailing them ahead of time is also why that “AB box 1 of 5” label is important. Because then I know which box got lost and what was in it.

If I’m not staying with a friend and I’m mailing stuff ahead of me, I need to call the hotel or convention to find out how long the hotel/con will hold my books and if there is a fee.

All of my display stuff that I’ll explain in the next part, fits into a large suitcase that I always check.

DISPLAY AT THE SHOW

The last step before the show begins is my display. I tried to brand my display with the same color scheme as my website. I linked you to my Sold Out Form and that blue is color of my table cloth and the color of my price tags.

Books are where I make most of my money and what I want people to focus on. They are front and center. My books get displayed on a colaspable shelf like this one . It is 18 inches wide which works for me because all my books are 6 inches by 9 inches or 9 inches by 6 inches. I keep meaning to paint it black or blue so it will also match my website. This keeps all my books upright and facing people who are browsing. It also keeps them close to eye level. All the covers are clearing visible. Some of the books in the back get hidden, and because of that I try to group books vertically. So Misfits of Avalon vol 3 is in front of the Misfits of Avalon vol 2 which is in front of Misfits of Avalon vol 1. Someone who is familiar with the book will still see the series clearly, but volume 3 in front will let people who have other volumes there is a new book. But the title is still clear so that new people can flip through the series. Cautionary Fables and Fairy Tales also gets stacked vertically.

For each book I have made a price tag. They are 10 inches tall and 6 inches wide. They fit nicely behind each book and poke out. Sorcery 101’s price tag is 7 inches tall and 9 inches wide for the same reason. I do individual price tags because of something I learned from reading “Why We By: The Science of Shopping.” People only spend like 30 seconds reading signs. So a giant price list is less likely to me read than an individual price tag.

I have tote bags and still haven’t quite figured out how to display them. I try to find a place to lay them flat so the design is clear.

Also laying flat is my portfolio. I don’t usually sell prints because I’ve had better luck selling books. Prints of my character did okayish. But most people I sell to at shows have never heard of me and it’s easier to tell someone to try a book than to grab a print of a character they don’t know (And I don’t think people should sell fanart.) Also, laying flat is my price list for commissions. Commissions I could make more money off of if I put more focus on them. However, I don’t really like to do commissions at shows. I’d rather stay  in selling/pitching mode rather than switch back and forth between that and drawing mode. Also, I ink traditionally so it’s hard to make my work portable. All in all, I’m okay with them being an after thought. If you want a commission, you are better off shooting me an email before the show and picking it up there. I did recently get an ipad pro to draw digitally. So I might try to do digital commissions at shows now that I can be less concerned with bring all my inking stuff.

I also have two banners behind me. They are both the tallest version of this banner.   I picked that one because while most people have 3 foot wide banners, the 2 foot wide one will fit in my large suitcase. But the 3 foot one doesn’t. One design is the blue black and white color scheme of my website. That one has my name on it and characters from different comics. I might redesign it in a year or so. The other design has Danny lighting his cigarette and has Sorcery 101’s logo on it. The Kel McDonald banner is more helpful for people who already know me. The Sorcery 101 banner brings over more people who don’t know me. They ask about the title which leads to my sales pitch. The Sorcery 101 banner is also easier to spot cause it is bring orange. So if you need to design a banner and are still unknown, maybe make a banner for your comic rather than you. Both of these banners are VERY TALL.  They are hard to miss.

Giving someone a clear way to find you is important. I think that makes one of the most popular ways to display prints at shows a bad idea. I see it most at anime cons, but it happens are every show. I think it’s just more prevalent at animecons because the artists lean younger and therefore are less likely to have the funds for a big banner. There is a thin wall of prints taped together and only a small space for the artist to poke their head out. If you google anime con display you get 9 million examples of this. I don’t want to pick on anyone by grabbing a picture so I drew what I’m talking about.

First off, that display is flimsy and I’ve seen more then one fall over. Second, they are hard to put. My display can be put up by just me and takes ten minutes or so. Also, the sign being in front of the table means when the con floor is crowded someone can’t see it and therefore find you. Then the mass of images will blur together with nothing standing out from far away. If you and several other people in a row have a display like this is will be hard for someone to see you. And finally, this wall puts a wall between you and the person who wants to buy stuff. It’s hard to see if someone is browsing through that tiny window and hard to engage with a customer. If you want to do a print wall, try to put it behind you rather than in front of you. You should be visible. Part of why folks are coming to cons is to talk to/see you.

And the final part of my display is me. I’m not a very fashionable person. But I try to dress nicer than I usually do with a button up shirt. I pick button up shirts with a collar and a front pocket that has a button flap. The front pocket is where I put my large bills so the flap is to make it so they aren’t visible. Obviously most people have a cash box or bag, but I worry about losing it/forgetting it. I also wear a tie that matches Danny’s piano key tie. So I match my books and merch a little too. Now that Sorcery 101 is done I might switch to something kinda werewolfy if I can find it.

And all that is before the show even starts. Next month I’ll post about at the show stuff.

[technologyreviewsgadgets]

New Post vivo V17 Review - Is It Worth The Hype? has been published on https://www.reviewcenter.in/9865/vivo-v17-review-is-it-worth-the-hype/

vivo V17 Review - Is It Worth The Hype?

Vivo has launched many smartphones this year and by the end of the year, the company has literally launched way too many phones under different price brackets. vivo launched the all-new vivo V17 in India, which the company launched first in Philipines. That variant had a slightly different design with a diamond-shaped camera module at rear, whereas the Indian variant comes with a rectangular camera module. The phone is priced at Rs. 22,990 so obviously, it’s not a budget phone in any way, but is the price tag justified? Let’s find out. 

Design & Display

The vivo V17 looks quite beautiful. There are two color variants- Glacier Ice White and Midnight Black. While the Midnight Black seems to be a somewhat common color scheme, the Glacier Ice White stands out in the crowd of smartphones due to a very cool looking vertical gradient finish. The phone features a 6.44-inch full HD+ Super AMOLED display. And obviously, the colors look punchy, viewing angles are great and the deep blacks look amazing on the phone.

At the top right corner of the display, there is the camera hole which is quite small. The vivo V17 comes with an in-display fingerprint scanner. The bezels around the display are quite minimal and the punch hole for the camera is also quite small overall. This punch-hole is the smallest in the world any phone has till now. All the buttons are positioned on the right edge while the SIM tray is on the left side. You can use two Nano-SIM cards, along with a microSD card.

At the back, there is the quad-camera setup, placed in a rectangular camera module with a metallic ring which protrudes out a bit and sometimes the phone is bumpy when placed on a table or any flat surface. The camera module houses four cameras, where three are placed in a vertical position while the fourth one is placed on the right side forming an L shape. Above the fourth lens, there is an LED flash. The bottom of the phone houses the 3.5mm headphone jack and the speaker grill, along with a USB-C port for charging and data transfer.

Overall, the vivo V17 looks quite good and with all the latest forms of implementation of the front-facing camera, fingerprint scanner, right at the front within the display, Vivo has managed to make the phone look very clean.

Camera

The vivo V17 has a quad-camera setup on the back which consists of a 48-megapixel primary sensor, an 8-megapixel ultra-wide-angle camera, a 2-megapixel macro camera, and a 2-megapixel depth sensor. The camera UI is quite good – Simple but with toggles the most used features like flash, HDR, filters, aspect ratio, and the camera settings on top. A button in the camera UI for camera settings is something new here and it’s a well-thought implementation in my opinion.

At the bottom, there are the options to switch between ultra-wide camera, bokeh and super macro. Beyond that, outside the viewfinder, there are those classic scrollable camera modes and there are quite a few of them like – Night, Portrait, Photo, Video, along with an option opens up more modes like Panorama, Live Photo, Slo-mo, Time-Lapse, Pro, AR Stickers, Jovi AI and Doc mode. Below that there is an image preview button on the left, shutter key at the middle and the toggle for changing between the front and rear camera on the right side.

These are all the details about the camera app and the features. Now, in terms of real-life performance, the 48-megapixel primary sensor takes 12-megapixel shots by default. The camera focuses real quick and in broad daylight, the vivo V17 took nice shots full of details, with natural-looking colors. The dynamic range is decent and the HDR helped quite a lot while taking shots in a brightly lit environment. Night mode takes impressive low-light shots. Sometimes the camera also suggests using a particular mode as per the scenario.

Toggling to the wide-angle camera is fast and smooth. It took some good shots, but the colors seemed to be a bit undersaturated. In terms of portrait shots, the phone performed really well, thanks to the dedicated depth sensor. The bokeh effect is quite nice and you also get to adjust the blur level while taking a shot. In terms of edge detection, the phone seemed to do a good job. The Macro lens is something that isn’t really useful I would say – Not great, not terrible. It manages to take good shots of tiny objects in well-lit conditions.

vivo V17 Camer Samples

On the front, there is a 32-megapixel camera for selfies and video calling. The front-facing camera actually performed consistently, irrespective of lighting conditions. Another cool thing is that you get to use the Night Mode even while using the front-facing camera. The vivo V17 can record at 4K using the rear camera and in full HD using the front-facing camera.

Performance

Just like the vivo U20, this phone is also powered by Qualcomm Snapdragon 675 64-bit octa-core processor built which has got two Cortex A76-based Kryo 460 CPUs clocked at 2GHz and other six Cortex A55 Kryo 460 CPUs, clocked at 1.7GHz. It comes with Adreno 612 GPU and 8GB LPDDR4x RAM. After trying out the Vivo V17 for a week, I had quite a bit of an idea about how this one will perform and well, it performed really well. Day to day tasks like browsing, using social media apps and texting, watching videos and switching between too many open apps never caused an issue.

In terms of gaming also, the phone performed really well, I primarily played PUBG Mobile where the graphics were set to High by default and the phone handled it well. In terms of general performance as well there were no issues.

Software

In terms of software, the vivo V17 runs the Funtouch OS 9.2 based on Android 9 Pie. It is packed with features though and some bloatware too i.e. many apps are pre-installed on the phone but the good thing is that they can be uninstalled. There is a Motorbike mode which rejects all incoming calls when you are riding and sends an SMS automatically to callers.

The Ultra Game mode has lots of features like off-screen Autoplay which lets a game run even with the display switched off. There are options to mute and block notifications, and auto-answer calls. You can also configure it to reject calls automatically.

FunTouch OS 9.2 is quite improved. There are navigation gestures by vivo which I am a fan of works great but ultimately I feel comfortable more with the navigation button. There are many features packed into the software like Smart Wake, Smart Turn On/Off for the display, One-handed Mode, App clone and a lot of other features.

There is the Game Cube, which is quite handy while gaming. There is Flashlight Notifications Option that blinks for incoming calls, messages and event alerts.

There are also the usual features like App Clone, App Lock with encryption, Multi-turbo, Smart-split and many more.

Battery

The vivo V17 packs a large 4500mAh battery and the phone easily lasted for a day and a half. I primarily used the phone for taking a lot of phone calls, texting, navigating and browsing social media with some video streaming during free time.

The phone supports 18W fast charging and as per my observation, the phone takes just around an hour to get charged from 0-70%, which should be enough for one full day of usage. It takes a bit above an hour to get fully charged. Most of the time I got screen-on-time of 6-7 hours and 2-3 days of standby time which is very impressive.

Final Verdict

The vivo V17 is a really good looking phone with a Super AMOLED display, a very promising camera, and a great battery life. While I understand that the pricing part is on a higher side, one has to look at the tech it offers like the world smallest punch in the display for the camera, you won’t even notice that it’s there. The in-display fingerprint is among the fastest in vivo Devices, the OS is well optimized for a long battery backup. The device looks way better compared to other brands with the same price and the display is too good for streaming videos and viewing other multimedia content.