#because he already had the skills and a lot of the materials before he knew anything about kid

[schro4444]

It's a bit of a tangent from the kuroba sitcom au, but it would explain SO MUCH about why Aoko always jumps to weird conclusions instead of the obvious one despite being so smart. Because she grew up next to the Kurobas which means that the obvious answer was NEVER the right one!

it WOULD!!! poor girl has an entirely skewed sense of problem-solving because until she was 9 years old, whenever she went to her best friend’s house, he and his family would be talking to each other in cartoon character voices and their floorboards would spray you with confetti if you stepped on them wrong

[unlimitedlust]

Chokehold - Noah Sebastian x Reader (+18)

Author's Note:

Heyy, I've had this idea in my head for a while now and it took me some time to finally write it so I hope y'all like it!!

I'm new to this fandom and this is my very first Noah Sebastian fanfiction, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimers: as any other content in this blog, this is a highly NSFW smutty story so if you're not into this kind of explicit content I advise you not to read it. Here you'll have a bit of plot and lots of porn, unprotected p in v (be safe out there), oral (f receiving), Noah being a giver, alcohol and lots of explicit descriptions.

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

I wrote it to Sleep Token's "Chokehold", "Take Me Back To Eden" and "The Summoning", and also to Bad Omens' "The Death Of Piece Of Mind" and "What It Cost", so if you're into listening to something while reading, I recommend you these songs.

WC: 4.7K

Enjoy your time here and if you enjoy it, feel free to leave it a like and/or to reblog the story, your feedback is what keeps me writing!!

End of Author's Note

-0-

You were Bad Omens’ photographer for the tour, the one responsible for taking all the pictures the fans would go feral online, especially Noah’s, and you couldn’t help but to keep giving them more material, because even though you’d never admit it, you’d also secretly had a deep crush on him. 

The guys from the band and the crew would often joke about how Noah’s pictures were the best ones and how you privileged him over the rest of the band, but you always dismissed the subject by saying that it wasn’t your fault he had the better angle since he was the lead singer. It was true in some aspects, yes, but your skills for taking fantastic pictures no matter how challenging the circumstance was were undeniable, so in the end of the day, it wasn’t hard to reach the conclusion that Noah was your favorite.

You often caught yourself admiring the pictures you took of him, his perfect angelical features in contrast with his tattoo covered skin, the way his eyes would catch the lens like he was staring right into your soul through the camera separating you.

But that was all coming to an end tonight.

They’d just played their last concert of the tour and you’d all agreed to make a small (kind of) party to celebrate it at the boys’ place.

You felt bittersweet towards the event. You were happy to be partying with them and being able to enjoy the moment without the concern of taking the perfect pictures. But on the other hand, you were sad you wouldn’t be seeing the band daily anymore and you’d miss them because you’d gotten attached to them and to their jokes, and also (and obviously) because you wouldn’t be seeing Noah anymore.

Your flight home for the morning after the party was already booked and you’d already checked in to save you some time.

So you sighed when you walked inside the big house in front of you. You, like always, held your confident and unwavering poise before everyone, but deep down you were uneasy. Was this the last time you’d be seeing him? In how long? Or ever?

You couldn’t hear the sounds of your heels clicking on the wooden floor because at each step you got closer to the party where loud music was blasting and you soon found the small crowd of people in the main living room already having their own fun.

You felt an arm hooking on yours and suddenly Folio was pulling you through the people towards the rest of the band and you couldn’t help but to smile at the unexpected gesture.

Your heart raced and your cheeks burned as you got closer to Noah, who’d been watching you from the moment you arrived, but you played it cool like always as you got to them and Ruffilo immediately put a bottle of beer in your hand.

Noah couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You didn’t know that, but he also had a strong crush on you and all of the band knew it. He always told them it was just a small crush and they should ignore it just as he did (or tried), because he wanted to keep it professional between you two.

But when you got to his sight and he saw you wearing that black leather crop top, with thin straps on your shoulders, just a zipper on the front imprisoning your breasts and highlighting your cleavage, along with a high-waisted skinny black skirt molding your curves and, mainly, your ass, bare toned legs on display and black boots on your feet, he was done.

You’d spent the last months practically living together in tour buses and stuff, but you always wore larger, baggy dark clothes that’d cover your body and blend you with the rest of the crew, so how well you looked caught not only Noah’s attention, but everyone else’s, the difference tonight was the fact that Noah just wouldn’t stop staring.

You felt confident, you knew you looked hot and secretly you’d chosen your clothes just for him, to impress him, to catch his attention. And your mission was successfully accomplished.

“Hey pretty” Noah reached his right arm out and pulled you to him in a side hug before kissing the top of your head.

“Hey handsome”

That exchange wasn’t new for you, it was like that every time you met, but this time, the way his lips lingered longer in your forehead as you inhaled his scent deeply got you very aware that something was different tonight. Was it because you were parting ways?

When he let you go he searched for the flustered expression you always had in your face when he did that, but sensed some apprehension instead, despite the grin forming on your lips.

Another thing you didn’t know is that Noah learned over time how to read you and he loved how cute you looked every time he got a shy smile out of your lips.

He loved how flustered you got when he gave the camera the looks he knew got you weak on your knees, because every time he did that, he saw how you unwittingly licked your lips as you checked out the pictures you’d just taken. And no, you didn’t have that same reaction over the pictures you took from the rest of the band, no matter how incredible they were.

“Gonna miss me now that the tour is over?” You teased him, taking a sip from your beer.

“Miss you? Why? We’re not going anywhere” Confusion splattered across Noah’s face as he had his full attention on you.

“You remember I live on the other side of the world right?”

His jaw visibly tensed when he finally processed the information you just brought him.

“Fuck…” Noah was frustrated “But you’re still coming for the barbecue tomorrow, right?” 

“Uh… Nope… My flight leaves early in the morning actually…” You felt guilty as the words came from your lips, the intensity of his glare over you stealing your breath as Noah looked like he’d just been stabbed.

“No, you can’t do that… Are you saying this is our last night with you until God knows when?”

He took a big gulp of his own beer, his knuckles white due to the hard grip on the bottle and on the counter behind him, until he sighed in defeat.

“Come on, it’s not like we’re never seeing each other again” You nudged him trying to cheer him up “All you gotta do is hire me as your photographer again” You winked at him and took another swing of your beer, but you didn’t miss the way he watched your lips wrapping around the bottle.

“You say it like we’ve fired you, but you forget you won’t get rid of us, and especially me that easy”

“Like I’d want to get rid of you” You rolled your eyes.

“You could’ve waited a little longer to go home though, are you that tired of looking at my face?” He teased, the smirk on his lips making you weak on your knees.

“Tired of looking at a catch like that? Never”

“You think I’m a catch? Good to know” The way his eyes burned as he looked at you up and down again raised goosebumps on your skin.

“You’re insufferable” 

“And you’re a terrible liar” He grabbed your hand “Now come on let’s have some fun”

The rest of the band along with other guests had gathered around the sofas in the middle of the room, all of them paying attention to Jolly, who was explaining the rules of the drinking game he’d just invented.

After a few drinks, beers and shots in, you along with anyone else got loose and the games that were tame at first got wilder as the night went on.

“Truth or dare, come on, never gets old and I’m dying for some revelations tonight” Folio spun an empty bottle in the center of the coffee table in front of them “bottom asks, top answers”

The bottle finally stopped spinning and you had the first round: Rufillo to Jolly.

Jolly chose dare and Rufillo made him drink 5 seconds of tequila.

Another spin. Folio to you.

“Come on honey, truth or dare?” He made the question with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Truth”

“Let’s heat things up a bit then: of the people in this room, who would you make out with?”

Your cheeks burned red with his question as all eyes were on you and the room went silent waiting for your answer. Yet you weren’t shy, the alcohol in your system had you bold at that point.

“Noah” 

“Yet you always deny he’s your favorite” Folio pretended to be offended.

You winked at Noah, who was sitting by your side, eyes narrowed in you as he raked them over you, visibly satisfied by your answer.

A few more rounds went by until the bottle landed on Noah.

“Truth or dare, buddy?” Folio had evil intentions in his eyes again and of course Noah wasn’t going to be spared.

“Dare”

“I dare you to take a body shot on the person you find the hottest in this room”

Noah left his place by your side as the boys brought him salt, a piece of lime and a shot of tequila. When he got up you felt your heart sinking in your chest with the realization he might choose another girl, but when he knelt in front of you, you lost your breath.

Noah rested his tattooed hands on your knees, uncrossed your legs and pulled you towards him, to the edge of the couch, the way he manhandled you catching you off guard as he was now between your legs and your skirt rose higher, getting dangerously shorter.

Heat pooled in your panties as you watched him lean you backwards and prepare you for the body shot. He placed the small glass of tequila in your cleavage, poured salt on your neck and the piece of lime between your lips.

“May I?” He splayed his hands on your thighs as the smug on his lips grew wider.

Since your lips were occupied by the piece of lime, you only nodded, watching him lick his lips as he leaned closer towards your neck. 

Noah took his time on licking the salt off your neck, swirling his tongue and kissing your skin in the process, then made his way down to your chest where his nose brushed against the valley of your breasts as he wrapped his lips around the shot glass to down it, and for last came up for the lime on your lips, his own ghosting over yours as he took it with his teeth, eyes locked on yours as he teased you in front of everyone, fingers sinking on your thighs as he seemed to be holding himself back.

Rufillo cleared his throat loudly and Noah quickly stood on his feet.

“Fuck I’m dizzy” Was all you could muster as you got up as well all flustered, pulling your skirt down as you headed for the kitchen for some water.

You were so aroused you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your core ached between your legs as you pressed them together hoping for some friction. You chugged down a glass of cold water in a vain attempt to ease your nerves, but it wasn’t water you were thirsty for.

The feel of his tongue and lips on your neck still lingered, tingling, and you wondered what he would do to you if you weren’t surrounded by people.

“Thirsty?” Noah materialized behind you, practically caging you, but also keeping some distance.

His eyes were darker than usual, burning holes in yours as he waited for your answer, and you both knew very well that “water” wasn’t the subject, and since this was your last night with them, with him, you weren’t running away anymore.

“Been the whole tour” You fired back at him and he took a step closer.

“Same on my part” He cupped your cheek with one of his hands, his fingers entangling with the hair on your nape while his thumb traced your lips “It’s a shame we waited this long… If you only knew all the ways I’ve had you in my mind…”

His husky voice sent your shivers straight to your pussy at his confession, and you wanted nothing but to have at least a sneak peak of what he’d had in his head. If only he could know what’s been to yours as well.

“Well now I can’t seem to understand why are you taking so long to show me?”

“Is there someone in a hurry?”

“Since I have a flight in the morning…” His hand slid down to your neck, choking you.

“And who says you’re getting into that plane tomorrow?” You couldn’t help but to moan when he tightened his hand around your neck just enough to make you melt into his grip “Let’s get out of here”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your hand, guiding you upstairs towards his bedroom. You stood in the middle of his room waiting for his next step as he locked the door behind him, the predatory gaze sending shivers down your spine as he checked you out once again.

“You are so fucking beautiful”

You couldn’t help but to blush at his confession as he stood in front of you, both hands cupping your face, admiring your delicate features.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since the first day I laid my eyes on you” He licked his lips, his eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes.

“Fucking kiss me, Noah”

“Thought you’d never ask”

He crashed his lips against yours and you felt your body going limp in his arms as he deepened the kiss. You let your fingers trail their way through his dark soft hair as his tongue explored yours, devouring you. He kissed you passionately and his hands roamed free over your body, you nibbled his lower lip and he pulled your hips closer, making sure you’d feel how hard he already was, pressing against your belly.

“If you don’t tell me to stop now, I won’t” He gasped, his restraint holding on by a thread.

“Who says I want you to stop?” Your hands slid down his chest to the hem of his shirt “I want your everything” You pulled his shirt upwards and he took the cue to help you take it off.

Your fingertips traced the tattoos on his body in admiration, every inch of him pure perfection in your eyes.

He kissed you again and guided you backwards to his bed, making your body collapse on it just as you felt your calves hitting its edge. Noah hovered over you, the thin chain around his neck dangling over you, almost touching your face as his hand ran up the side of your body from your outer thigh.

When he reached your ribcage, his fingers changed their path to the middle of your chest, to the zipper of your crop top, and you held your breath as he opened it slowly, eyes trained on you as the leather piece slowly slid off your breasts revealing them to him, nipples hard and sensitive on his full disposal.

“Fucking amazing”

Your lips met once more as he splayed one of his hands on one of your boobs, fondling it and pitching your nipple between his tattooed fingers. His body stood between your legs and you whimpered when he rubbed his clothed manhood against your aching center, covered only by helplessly damp lace panties.

His lips trailed kisses down your jaw towards your neck, where he now, very aware of your sensitivity in that area, covered your skin in with kisses and angry love-bites, clearly intending on marking you as his.

Your manicured nails ran up his back as his lips now peppered kisses down your clavicles to your chest, his mouth immediately latching on one of your breasts, suckling and nibbling your nipple, to then soothe the small sting with the softness of his tongue before switching his attention to the other.

You arched your back, legs spreading wider apart as you surrender yourself completely to his mercy, small cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you watched him, mouth and hands full of your boobs, the ache between your legs almost unbearable as you desperately needed him there, filling you.

“Noah please…” You pleaded as your legs tried to pull his hips to grind against you with no avail.

His voice was raw, deep and filled with lust: “Please what?” 

He teased, lips now traveling lower on your body, stopping only to give him enough room to take both your skirt and panties at once, throwing it randomly in his room.

“I need you to tell me what you want babe” He nibbled the skin right below your navel, and the realization of how close he was to your intimacy sent stronger shivers over your body as he kissed your inner thighs “Fuck you’re dripping”

“I need you inside me, please” You whined as his lips got closer to your hot center, his eyes admiring how glistening wet you already were for him before he blew his breath on you, making you quiver at the sensitivity.

“I will princess, but I need to taste you first”

Noah spread your legs wider apart and his tongue ran flat over your pussy, collecting and tasting all the arousal he could get, moaning against you as he finally got to taste you. His skilled tongue on your clit got you seeing stars in seconds as he worked on building your orgasm, and you prayed the music downstairs was loud enough to keep the rest of the party from hearing you, because you just couldn’t hold yourself back.

“You taste so fucking good”

Noah ate you like a starved man, feasting on you, taking pleasure in watching the sexed expressions on your face and how you helplessly writhed below him. He added a finger inside you as he kept working on you with his mouth, his long finger immediately finding the magic spongy spot inside you that made your legs shake around his neck as the pleasure knot forming on your lower belly threatened to explode violently at any second.

You tried to hold it back for as long as you could, but when he combined the work on your clit with his tongue along with a precise flick of his wrist, he forced the orgasm out of you in strong white hot waves of ecstasy, making you lose your senses for a few seconds as he rode your high.

Yet Noah didn’t stop.

Still eating you, he held you firmly and flipped you both on the bed, making you sit on his face. Your faltering legs threatened your balance, but his firm grip kept you up straight. 

You looked below you and the scene alone almost made you cum again. The pussy-drunk look on his face, the disheveled hair, the way half of his face was covered in your slick, dark eyes glossy as he looked up meeting yours as he kept lapping, sucking, overstimulating you on purpose.

“Oh my fuck N-Noah…” 

“Fuck my face babe” 

He growled against you, fingers sinking on your ass cheeks as you, still shaky, followed his command and started to roll your hips back and forth, allowing you to control the pace, the pressure, and to use his face on your own will.

You felt your climax blossoming inside you again as he kept devouring you, drinking in every drop he could take from you, his nose rubbing against your clit while he fucked you with his tongue. 

“Oh fuck… Noah…” Your orgasm bubbled up inside you again, but you were not ready for it yet, you were sure you’d collapse on top of him if he gave you another one in such a short time.

As if reading your thoughts Noah stopped, keeping you from falling apart so soon, but on the other hand edging you as you were so close to jumping off that cliff again.

You got off of his face and moved down his body to remove his pants and underwear, hurried, dying to feel him. He propped himself on his elbows and watched you undress him with shaky hands, the fucked out expression on your face making him want more of you.

Your jaw dropped when his cock sprung free, rock hard against his belly, head glistening with precum, the size and thickness doing justice to his height, and your throat went dry to the thinking of how he would feel inside you, stretching you.

“It’s all yours” He grinned, watching you admire him.

You straddled and pulled him up to kiss you and your taste still lingered on his tongue. His arms wrapped around your back and waist bringing you closer, and you took the cue to rock yourself against his shaft, coating it with your arousal, mixing it with his precum, the friction making him groan against your lips.

You pulled his hair, tilting his head back exposing his neck, and attacked it with your lips and tongue, all while you now teased the head of his cock with your opening, pretending you’d finally let him in, threatening to finally join your bodies, but skipping it every time, his digits digging on your flesh with his impatiency.

“You’re gonna make me beg for it now?” He peppered kisses on your chest and collarbone.

“You tell me… You want it that bad?” You whispered in his ear and nibbled on his earlobe.

That’s until he took control over you again and held your hips in place, lining himself with your entrance, all while he pulled you by your hair with his free hand, pulling you away from his neck, making you look at him, eyes so dark with lust and oozing such a primal desire you felt like prey.

“I do” 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Now eyes on me” 

He instructed and you immediately obeyed. With one of his hands still on the back of your head and the other on your hip, the tip of his cock met your pussy and Noah pressed you down on him, merging your bodies slowly. His name came out of your lips in such a sinful pitch that made him throb inside you, the vision and the feeling of you, flesh and bone, being endlessly better than he could’ve ever imagined.

Your arms snaked around his neck as he bottomed you out, you felt so full and stretched, your whole body was on fire, ignited with desire, and when you got used to his size you started to move on top of him, slowly increasing your pace as you rode him, stealing grunts of pleasure out of him every time you intentionally clenched around him and fucked him harder, your skin slapping against his as his fingers dug into your thighs.

He was so lost in his own moment he didn’t know if he should look at where your bodies merged, at your boobs bouncing in front of his face or at your sex glazed eyes. His lips captured yours once again as you rocked your hips back and forth, that very specific motion almost making you both snap.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum” 

He whined and rolled you both, laying you on the bed as he got on top of you, switching positions so he could last longer, to feel you longer, to fuck you longer. He pushed himself inside of you again and all at once, at the new depth he reached with that position turned you into a moaning mess as he now set his own pace, but making sure that with every thrust he stimulated that very spot he found earlier inside you.

“Noah oh my…” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence as that postponed orgasm emerged again like a tsunami, washing away all of your senses as it bursted from inside out, hard, making your pussy clench desperately around him as he rode your high, taking every bit of his restraint to ride you through it without unloading inside you, cock throbbing in need, and just as he felt your body becoming jelly under his he pulled out of you, cumming on your belly in long hot spurts as he stilled over you, cheeks red and eyes rolled back.

He glued his forehead on yours, breathing still heavy as he came back from his own high, admiring how impossibly beautiful you looked at that very moment.

“There’s no fucking way I’m letting you into that plane tomorrow”

[bet-on-me-13]

Oliver Adopts Danny

(Note: I have no idea what exactly happened on the island and made up my own thing. Also I had no plan when making this and it shows)

...

So! When Oliver landed on that Deserted Island, he wasn't alone.

On the Island, there was a Little Kid.

He was about 7, and he was just as confused as to why he was there. Apparently he had been sleeping at home when all of a sudden he felt himself falling, and seconds later he hit the ground in the forest. He couldn't remember anything past that, or really anything before that as well. He had seemingly lost his memories.

So, Oliver was stuck helping a Random Kid while trying to survive on the island.

He did learn that the Kid was a Metahuman with the ability to make Unmelting Ice, but the kid seemed disappointed by his powers. It was like he expected them to be stronger than they were. When asked, he said that he didn't actually know why he felt that, like it was something else he had forgotten.

And that was how the situation stood for a few years. He and the Kid, who he eventually learned was named Danny, became closer. He took up a paternal role in the kids Life, trying to keep him safe from the dangers of the island.

Danny was also a huge help on the island, his Ice was useful during Hot Nights, and the fact that it was Durable and Didn't Melt made it a good material for their tools. He also knew a lot of random skills, like the basics of how to shoot a Bow and how to set up a Campfire.

By the time they had been there for 3 years, Oliver already saw Danny like a Son. He had decided long ago that when they finally left the island, he would adopt him.

Then, on the 4th Year, Oliver found something strange. There were tracks in the Dirt on the less explored side of the Island, Human Tracks.

Following them, he found the source, An Illegal Slave Trading Ring.

The Base seemed to be new, so they had probably set up shop a few weeks ago at most. He and Danny must have missed them because they didn't usually go to that side of the Island.

He returned to the Camp that night and contemplated what to do.

It took another few days for him to resolve himself to go and save those people.

It took another few weeks to prepare himself.

It took less than 30 minutes to get the Job Done.

By the end of that night, every Slaver on the island was Dead, and the slaves were set free. They still didn't have a way off the island, since a few of them had managed to sabotage the boat before they died, but Oliver and Danny were there to help them.

By the 5th Year, they basically had a Small Village set up back there their Camp used to be. It was a community of all of the people Oliver had managed to save that night, all working together to survive on that Mysterious Island.

Then one day, finally got some luck. A Fishing Boat had gotten lost on their usual Route, and had spotted the SOS Signal that they had set up on the Beach.

After that it didn't take long for everyone on the Island to be saved. Oliver asked the former slaves to keep his heroics a secret because he wanted to keep him and Danny safe from the press, and they all agreed.

So, Oliver went home and adopted Danny.

He also decided to become a Vigilante.

And then eventually he joined the Justice League.

And one day while showing his son around the newly build Watchtower he ran into Constantine, who then proceeded to ask "Why the hell do you have a mini-death god holding your hand?"

...

I have no idea what this was supposed to be. I wanted Oliver to adopt Danny, and I wanted it to be on the Island, but I had no idea how to do it.

My basic idea for it is that Danny accidently wished for a Good Dad one day and Desiree heard him. So she turned him into a Kid, sealed away most of his Powers, and sent him to the Island with no memories past age 7.

Maybe this was "Ghost King Danny"?

Idk, I like it more as "King Danny who rejects the Throne but is still basically the leader because he keeps helping people no matter what" but that's just me.

Thoughts?

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 15: Under Arrest (WARNING +18, Smut)

it was pain in the ass to write this episode guys, enjoy :)

----------- All episodes here --------------

It was one of those days in Laredo that spring shows all its beauty, son shines hot, wind blows cold mostly at night.

Javi has been at DEA headquarters in D.C. for two days. You didn't go with him, as it would have been better for him to go alone to make arrangements for his new assignment and plan to settle down. So you just had to wait for him return.

Anyway, you knew the town better now, you have walked along streets, visited shops several times. Sometimes you went with Chucho for groceries and sometimes on your own.

Today was one of the days you went with Chucho. After grocery shopping Chucho invited you to join him for lunch at his favourite restaurant, you gladly accepted. But you had to buy personal and girly things, so after lunch, you excused yourself, left the restaurant to meet him later.

Your relationship with Chucho is becoming more and more like a father-daughter relationship such that you were scolded by him when he wanted to give you money and you didn't take it. In Javi’s absence he wanted to look after you which was so cute.

In fact, you had absolutely no need for his money or anyone else's. Your father was a man who thinks and planning everything in detail so he made sure Dolores put stack of US dollars -enough to buy a house- and valuables in your suitcase before you left. It was more than you needed, so everytime Javi or Chucho wanted to give you money, you didn't want to take it. Eventually Javi has stopped asking, but you didn't want to offend Chucho.

With the money he gives, you only buying house needs, making the house look like a woman lives inside. Everytime he realizes new kitchen utensils at home, he complaines at first but later liked it, and then he just let it go.

Looks like he has no complaints about change.

As you walked past the shops, you stopped, a big smile settled on your face, it was an art and hobby shop.

Paints, pads, papers, canvas, brushes, you realised how much you missed them all. You have been feeling bored lately because you already have too much free time, so it was a tempting idea to buy a few things.

You went straight in, it wasn't a very big shop, but there were lots of different types of paint you needed. There was no one inside, just a noise coming from behind the door, so you decided to check the paints until the shopkeeper came. Then you noticed a canvas and paints with the lid open, someone had just been painting here.

According to the painting on the canvas, the artist was not yet very successful and obviously lacked technical skills. It was none of your business, but you were eager to correct it or give advice.

‘May I help you?’

Suddenly, the shopkeeper's voice startled you and you looked at him. He was a man about your age, and as soon as he saw your face, his hard gaze gave way to surprise and then shyness.

‘I'm sorry, I was just observing, it seems to be missing a few things so,’ your voice soft as velvet.

The young man blushed, he looked like embarrassed, but in what way?

'Yes, I'm still working on it. So, I guess, you are an artist?

'As an amateur, yes,' you said with a smile. ‘I have technical training though, I even had a few exhibitions.’

'Really?' he came closer. ‘You must be famous or well-known?’

'Here, no, but in my town, in my country, a little, yes.’

He raised his eyebrows.

'You must be the girl, the Colombian Beauty everyone has been talking about,' he tilted his head and smiled.

You let out a deep sigh, rolled your eyes.

Did they give you a fucking nickname now?

‘I guess that's my reputation here,’ you murmured.

‘People here love to talk about others especially the new ones and their appearance,’ he came over and looked at the paint in your hand. ‘What is it you need?’

‘Well, everything actually, I've left all behind, so I need new materials.’

‘Sure,’ he smiled and packed a bunch of paints in primary colours, then brushes and two different size of canvas.

A teenager boy came into the shop and looked at you with wide eyes. You frowned.

‘You? Hola señorita, we met again,’ he giggled, very excited.

‘Do you know each other?’ asked the shop owner.

When you look carefully at his face, you recognized him.

‘Ah, tequila boy,’ you smiled, and he laughed hard.

‘Anton, but you can call me whatever you like,’ he smirked.

You smiled but felt weird.

‘What are you doing here, Anton?’

‘My silly brother.”

Anton rolled his eyes. You turned to shop owner.

‘I'm Juan, by the way,’ he said, holding out his hand.

Suddenly you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

The two of them looked at you with surprise, also amazed when heard your voice like ringing, dancing in the air. You realized Juan’s hand was in the air too.

You felt ashamed, covered your mouth with hand.

‘Oh I'm so sorry your name reminds me of someone I met back in Colombia,’ you shook his hand.

‘You know someone called Juan there?’

You bit your lip, ‘Yes.’

You felt your heart starts beating fast when you remember that night.

‘I suppose he was someone important to you?’

He was suddenly very curious.

‘She's got a boyfriend here,’ Anton muttered, sounding upset.

You came to your senses, raised your eyebrows, looking at him.

‘Well, it's none of my business,’ he said then and sheepishly walked out of the shop.

You got confused.

“Please excuse my brother, I think he's experiencing his emotions on the edge because of puberty problems or hormones,” Juan sighed. “He thinks he's in love with you, stupid kid.”

“What?”

“I mean he hasn't stopped talking since the wedding day, you've met him there.”

Suddenly you remembered everything you have done.

“Oh I'm so sorry, it's all my fault,” you felt really sorry.

“It's nothing to do with you, your beauty is not a crime, after all,” he said with smile.

You blushed, but feeling guilty.

“But I'm sure he will have a girlfriend some day, so this will help him to get over.”

“I hope so,” he said with a sigh. “By the way, that's ninety dollars señorita.”

----

The underwear you brought with you were no longer usable, thanks to the all hot rough sex, you and Javi had -almost every night-, so it was urgently needed. To buy new fancy ones, you entered a lingerie boutique and bought lots of pairs. Feeling impatient for his return and excited to see his expression when he see you wearing them.

Next, you went at the pharmacy to buy tampons and personal products. As you reached for the shelf, someone reached for it at the same time you did, and when you looked up you realized it was Lorraine.

You were still nervous and surprised to see her standing in front of you. It was awkward, but it would be even more awkward if you act it’s normal.

No way.

“How's it going?” she was taking a painkiller from the shelf, her younger son was with her.

“Fine, thanks, you?” moving your hair behind your ear.

“I'm fine.”

You wanted to grab a contraceptive pill from the shelf but you felt embarrassed. You turned your head to her son, looking at you curiously. You smiled at him.

“How you doing handsome?” you blinked, he bowed his head smiling shyly but then ran towards another boy who had just walked into the shop.

“Andre!”

You looked at the boy and your gaze locked on him, this was the boy you have seen back the wedding.

Forgetting what you were doing for a moment, you walked towards to him, Lorraine murmured something meanwhile but you ignored her. The boy was smiling as he talked to his friend, but there were bruises on his face and some wounds on his arm. You swallowed hard. As you approached, the boy lowered his head, avoided eye contact. You crouched down to his level.

"Hello, is your name Andre?"

"Yes," he said in low tone.

"Nice to meet you Andre, are you all right? How did this happen?"

He covered his arm with his hand and ran out of the shop. "He's always like that," Lorraine's son whined.

"How well do you know him? Is his face and arms always like this, does he fight a lot?"

"Fight? Never, he's a fool, a coward."

"Matt! We talked about this. You shouldn't say things like that about your friends." Lorraine grabbed his hand angrily, then looked at you. "Why are you asking about Andre?"

"Do you know his family?" you lowered your voice. "Do you think he might be abused by parents?"

She said nothing, as if she'd seen this question coming.

"His mother died, I saw his dad beat him once after school for stealing money from-," she pulled his hand to make him shut up.

You got angry.

"Look, you shouldn't mind other people's business in this town," Lorraine warned you. "Especially families."

"So what, people like to gossip about other people, but they can't say anything about a little boy being abused by his parents? Really?" your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

"It's a family matter," she'd obviously been through something like this before. "Don't mess with his dad. Come on Matt, let's go."

As you walked out of the shop, all you could think about was the boy's face and his scars, wounds. You couldn't believe it, how could a father do this to his child?

Your first instinct was to go to the sheriff's station, yes, where Javi used to be a deputy sheriff. But you didn't have any evidence or witnesses or anything. You had no choice but to wait for Javi to return.

Suddenly you realised you'd forgotten to buy the contraceptive pill and turned to go back to the pharmacy. Just then, Andre came around the other corner, back to get what he needed from the pharmacy. You waited for him to go inside and hurried in after him.

You took your medicine from the shelf and watched him as he bought a plaster and a gauze bandage. After he paid and left, you did the same before following him. As you rounded the corner, you quickened your pace and stepped in front of him.

He was surprised and stopped. You leaned down and looked at him, gently grabbing his shoulders when he looked like he was going to run back.

‘Andre, look, I want to help you, you can tell me everything, I promise I'll help you.’

He shook his head, 'No, nobody can help me.’

‘What do you mean? Of course they can, please tell me. Or why don't we go to the Sheriff’s station? I promise your father will never find out.’

The boy didn't react, you've never seen anyone look so hopeless.

You felt like something was stabbing you in the heart.

‘Mind your own business, miss, you can't help me anyway.’

'I'm not like the others in town, I'll help you no matter what, let me...'

‘No, please leave me alone,' he said and ran off.

You couldn't hold back your tears as you watched him running away. You had no intention of letting this go, you were going to help him no matter what.

----

When you told Chucho what had happened, he was surprised and angry. The next day you went to the sheriff's station together, but they couldn't help you, they wouldn't do anything without a complaint or evidence. All they could do was open an investigation.

Another day, you and Chucho went to the house where the boy lived with the deputy, as you approached the house he told you to stay in the car. He talked to him about complaints, asked Andre about his dad and all, unfortunately, this only upset Andre's father more.

You had no choice but leave them alone.

You hated that.

Before you left, you noticed the new bruise on Andre's face from distance.

It was haunting you, breaking your heart into pieces.

On the way home you were both quiet in the car, even if he’s hard-headed type, Chucho was so good-hearted man inside, that’s why he was angry as much as you were.

After a mile he suddenly hit the breaks, stopped the car. You were startled as hell, could have hit your head on the dashboard if you haven't been wearing your seatbelt, looking at him in surprise.

But he didn't look at you was busy with reversing the car.

‘Chucho, what are you doing?’

'What I’m supposed to do,' he muttered.

He was furious as he drove the car back to town at high speed. You’ve never seen him like this.

It was dark when he parked near Andre's house.

'Chucho, what are you planning?’

'I don't want to keep the poor kid around that scum for a minute,’ he growled.

'Me neither, but the cops said...'

'The boy, I mean, Andre, his mother, she,' he took a deep breath. 'She was niece of my late wife, Javi's mother. She married this man while she was pregnant had no other choice you know, that poor girl...’ his voice cracks.

You were shocked, Andre’s mother was Javi’s cousin?

‘Stepfather?’ you asked after a moment.

‘Yes, the child is the only memory that I have of that poor girl. She and Javi used to play on our porch when they were kids.’

Chucho got sad suddenly remembering his wife and her niece, Javi never talked about his mother before neither you’ve asked, so hearing from his dad, broke your heart badly, you were familiar with this feeling, you touched his hand.

‘I'm sorry, Chucho,’ you said sincerely. ‘I lost my mother when I was little too. My dad had promised her to look after me. He's a very good father, even though made some mistakes. But Andre, he isn't as lucky as me, so I wanted to help him so badly.’

He turned his head to you patting your shoulder.

‘We will, but you wait here, okay?’

‘But Chucho-’

‘Do as I say,’ he hissed.

You nodded, but having bad feeling about this.

He got out of the car and approached the porch. Your heart started beating fast. You were worried about him. The situation or danger you were in was nothing compared to the cartels or guerillas but you weren’t worry about yourself.

Chucho became someone important for you now, if something happens to him you’d never forgive yourself.

As he knocked the door Andre's father opened, but when he wouldn't let him in, Chucho pushed him back, he staggered, you got out of the car immediately, ran into the house to help him. When Chucho saw you, got angry, reminds you of Javi.

‘Take the kid and get out!’ he yelled, grabs his dad by neck but he hit his face hard.

You did as he said and looked for Andre, saw poor boy was lying unconscious on the floor. You almost fainted from anxiety, immediately picked him up, his weight made you staggered a little but you held him tight.

As you were about to get out, his dad pulled you by the hair and made you fell down. Andre fell too. Seeing him like that, you forgot your head hurts by hit, took him in your arms again with all your strength, you had to get him out of here no matter what.

Chucho has managed to punch him and knock him down, he came running to help you. He put Andre in the back seat and you sat next to him. Chucho started the engine.

‘Chucho, we need to go to the hospital right now,’ you said, Andre was mumbling but can’t open his eyes. You were scared to know why.

Chucho stopped the car in front of the emergency entrance, tires whining so loud.

The paramedics rushed Andre out, asked you a lot of questions and then called the police.

‘Your head, are you okay?’

‘Hm?’

Chucho touched your forehead with his finger, it covered with blood.

‘Come with me,’ he said, grabbing your wrist, heading inside but at that moment a police car came nowhere, two cops got out and rushed towards you.

Before you could understand why, they grabbed both of your arms behind your back.

‘Chucho F. Peña, and Y/N Botero Llano, you are under arrest for trespassing, kidnapping and wounding a child.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about, son?’ Chucho yelled at them. “You’re making a huge mistake!”

‘We rescued the boy from his cruel father, you need to arrest him, not us!’ You struggled, but they didn’t give a shit, they handcuffed you two and put you in the car.

----

Around the same time Javi arrived in Texas and was on his way home. He has missed you so much, all he could think about was holding you in his arms and touching you again.

But unfortunately he had no idea what was going on, so when he parked the car in the yard,  he was surprised to see that the lights weren't on. He looked at the clock on his wrist, it was only nine o'clock. He got worried when he found no one at home, surprised because he told Chucho two days ago that he is coming today.

He decided to get back in the car and drive into town. The stores were closed but the restaurants were still open, there was no sign of his father's car or the two of you.

But in a small town like this, word of mouth travels fast, so it was only a matter of time before he found out. He frowned when he saw a few people staring at him whispering.

He stopped by his father's favorite restaurant and asked his friend there if he has seen you two, the man told him everything.

His heart was racing as he hurried to the police station where he used to work as a deputy sheriff.

You were sitting on the floor in a temporary detention cell with two women, and one of them was asking you a lot of questions. You didn't know what her crime was, but she looked very scary face, probably a street prostitute. And unfortunately she seemed obsessed with you.

“If I was as beautiful as you, I'd make tons of money, rich as fuck,” she laughed so hard that you shuddered. The other woman, who you guessed was her friend or collogue, joined in her laughter.

Still, they were nothing compared to all the bad guys you've met, so you just ignored them.

“Honestly, what are you doing here, you don't look like a criminal.”

You preferred to keep silent and turned your head, but they didn't like it.

“Do you think she's latino?” other woman asked her friend as she grabbed your chin and examined your face. You felt nauseous not because you scared, she was smelling bad.

“Look at her face, so small and cheekbones, fuck, just like models, even I, as a woman, would like to kiss you.”

You were disgusted as she came closer to kiss you.

“Hey, get your hands off her, don't you fucking touch her!”

Your heart pounding with joy when you saw Javi. The woman snickered and stepped back.

“The handsome knight has arrives to save his lady,” they laughed again.

You ignored them, stood up and grabbed the bars.

“Are you all right?” he asked with massive concern.

You missed his voice so much.

“Yes, I am, how's Chucho?”

“He's fine, what happened to your head?” he put his hand through the bars and touched your head.

“Nothing serious, I guess.”

“You know you scared the shit out of me, what the fuck happened?”

“I'm sorry, it was my fault.”

He shook his head, “Chucho told me everything, the boy needs to come to his senses and tell cops what his father did and they will take his statement.”

“I hope he does,” you bowed your head, can’t anything but hope.

Javi put his other hand through the bars and took your face in his hands. His brown eyes look like molten chocolate.

“Look at me, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.”

“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he murmured, his finger running over your soft lips, you blushed.

“Hey, get a room!”

You startled with their loud laughter, forgetting for a moment that they were behind you.

Javi gave them a menacing look.

“I'll be right back,” he walked out the door and closed it again, you felt abandoned when he left.

But as he said, he came back immediately, accompanied by the deputy sheriff. He opened the cell door and Javi grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out and hugged you quickly. It felt so good to hugged by him.

But the deputy opened the door to the next cell for you.

“Javi, man,” he warned.

Javi kissed the top of your head and stepped back.

“You'll be more comfortable here.”

“But,” for a moment you thought you are free.

“That's all I can do, man,” the deputy said with sad voice looking two of you.

“Thanks Frank,” Javi said without looking at him as he walked into the cell with you, kissed you on the cheek, stepped back out, you and Javi looked at each other helplessly as the deputy locked your cell.

“I'll give you two more minutes,” he said and left.

“I'll do whatever it takes to get you out, I promise,” his voice cracked.

“I know, Javi,” you said with half smile.

He stroked your cheek with his warm fingers one last time then deputy called him out and he has left.

----

During the 48 hours of detention, Javi really did everything he could.

First they released Chucho after 24 hours because Andre came to his senses and told them what his father has done to him, everything, and they prepared his statement and sent it to the court. So far so good, but it was difficult for them to release you because you were not a US citizen.

Chucho scolded Javi for not marrying you before coming here. So it would have been easier for you to become a citizen.

After long phone calls from Javi to the relevant authorities and diplomatic talks and visits, including from Steve, your sentence is commuted to a fine by court, wasn't more than you could afford though.

Javi felt like won a victory when he opened your cell, you’ll finally be released after 48 hours, he missed you so much. You were no different, 48 hours felt like 48 days, every second without him was a torture.

When you came out, you run towards him as he opens his arms for you, wrapping around you, burying his face in your hair, then held your face in his palms to touch your lips with his.

When he kissed you, you never wanted him to stop, you needed him, you needed his warm breath, his tongue tastes like honey-like and his strong arms around your waist, damn you missed those arms the most.

If you weren't still at the police station, you'd have him already, you needed him so badly. Luckily, Chucho stayed in town to accompany him while Andre placed in foster care. He wanted to take special care of him from now on, but the authorities couldn't just give him, provides temporary care until a more permanent solution can be found. He had to wait.

“Javi, I missed you so much,” you said as he drives, on your way to home, his free hand already rubbing your knee.

“Not as much as me, baby,” his eyes on you, then road, but mostly you.

He started driving faster, getting more and more impatient. You took his free hand, guiding it under your dress, then up to your chest, he felt your breasts beneath the fabric, lick his lips.

When you finally arrived the house he just parked the car, and rushed out.

He opened your door, he leaned his head towards you to met your eyes, you gazed at each other first then he kissed you on the lips.

You giggled when his mustache tickled your cheeks and he responds you by sniggering beneath your lips. The kiss deepened and you put your arms around his neck and he quickly pulled you out of the car and took you in his arms. You were unbuttoning his shirt as he carried you into the house without breaking the kiss.

You barely had time to look around before Javi slams you on the bed hard you nearly loosing your breath but you liked that much. He is on top of you immediately, pinning your wrists above your head as he kisses you roughly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt slipping down so that your bare skin and your womanhood is pressing against his jeans. You felt so excited and clumsy as if doing this for the first time.

As he pulled back, you felt the hardness of him beneath his pants. He freed your wrists so he can grab your hips and you can take his shirt off. Your hands on his muscular chest, your thin fingers running through, feeling every inch of his torso.

It was beautiful.

Then he grabbed the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over your head to leave you lying beneath him naked but panties and bra, and now it is his turn to stare at your body, his brown eyes were bright and greedy. He kissed you again, this time with more passion than before with more lust than before. You felt the wetness around your inner thighs and wanted to desperately clench them together. But you couldn’t, because Javi’s leg is already in between them.

Javi grinned at your expression, “What do you want me to do, baby, tell me?” he whispered in your ear as his long fingers quickly undid your bra and threw it who knows where. Now he slipped his fingers into the hem of your panties you felt them inside your walls covering with your wetness, and bit your lip hard.

“Tell me, hermosa,” he whispered again.

“I want you, Javi,” you moaned as his fingers goes deep. “Please.”

“Where?” his low voice and his hot breathe were driving you crazy.

“Inside me, please, now!”

He snickered and took off his pants, grabs your ass with both hands and moves his face beside yours to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll give you what you want baby.”

His voice sent electricity down your spine. You could probably cum from his words.

Without a word, spreading your legs for him. He bites his lower lip in a sweet way, and positioning himself, enters inside with little moan, and starts moving faster, you feel him so deep inside you but it wasn’t enough, you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as you pushed him deeper inside you with your heels.

You wanted him inside you up to your ribs. It wasn’t impossible but you just wanted him so badly.

He puts one hand under your ass to support you and, with the other, rubs your breasts, licking in process, it was driving you insane.

He realises this and smiles to himself as if he is proud of every feeling he caused. Seeing your slim body writhing with pleasure under his strong body is a priceless sight for him.

When your walls clinging to his every thrust, your body tingled as you feel the edge of orgasm approaching.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispers into your ear, you could tell he’s on the edge.

You moan his name as your walls clench around his cock so hard he groans.

You came twice for him as your arms wrapped around his back and your nails dig into him.

“Fuck,” he groaned then laughed.

“Now your turn Javi, make me yours,” whispering into his ear.

With another groan he grabbed you by waist with his one arm and sat you on his lap to feel your walls tighter around his cock, grabbing your chin with the other hand, bites your bottom lip and sucks your chin as he came inside you, filling every inch up.

His moan music to your ears as he rides out remaining waves of orgasm. He eventually slows down and stops, breathing heavily, enjoying the moment between you, pressing his forehead to yours. He pulls out slowly, smirks while enjoying the sight of you, running his fingers through his hair trying to cool off, and you enjoyed seeing him with messy hair like that, even looks curly now.

He’s honestly so beautiful.

He leans on you closer to tuck your messy hair behind your ears. His warm brown eyes locked yours.

“Marry me,” his voice caresses your ears.

You raised your eyebrows. “Javi…” You wouldn’t except him to say that so sudden.

He bent down to find his trousers, grabbing and took out a black velvet ring box from the pocket, your heart started beating fast with excitement, as if it hadn't been beating fast enough from the orgasm you had earlier.

He opened the ring box and put it on the bed and slid it towards you. A ring that rests gracefully inside.

‘Marry me,’ he said again. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘Yes!’ your voice ringed like a bell.

He smiled and buried his head into you hair, you wrapped your arms around his neck, closed your eyes to savoring the moment.

[rontra]

drop your ffxiv lore

asking me to drop my pants in public would be less embarrassing..... you have to understand crucially that i don't know anything about anything and dont want The Knowers to see me

LMAO well i can talk about it a little but only on One Condition. as i mentioned before im a Certified Stormblood Gamer . in fact according to the wiki i am about this deep (level 64 questing atm)

so basically the condition is this: if something wasn't explicit in ARR or HW you cannot under any circumstances talk to me about it...! if you have any sort of reaction to this post that has to do with any later material than that i ask you Don't say it to me. if you are in doubt about whether something "counts", the safe answer is yes it does, and just going "neat!" instead & moving on will do fine. i really don't want to play spoiler chicken with you and don't want to know anything i don't already know. i'm enjoying taking my time with the game, so please refrain from correcting or corroborating anything i have to say about it atm!!!!!!! i'm still baby! thank you....!!! 😭👍

anyway my xiv characters are 1 a dude who was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and might be scared of women . & 2 a scary woman who did definitely kill her wife but is also the most Wife Guy for like secret reasons. the second one's lore is being ironed out as we speak so its all subject to change but the concept is there

1. ZT

love this guy. i even made an amv about it when i finished arr

(every xiv player voice) my wol is the most special boy in the world.

i actually had a whole thing typed up here about like his fucked up mom and whatever but i got shy and deleted it. i might go over it if someone's actually interested . but basically he's a poor little meow meow who, up until the beginning of the game, was abused pretty consistently bc of [evil cat people family dynamic reasons]. his family members mostly hate his ass and were rarely all that nice to him, so he has a lot of issues with self-worth and things like that--he doesn't feel like he's particularly good at anything or really "worth" much

he's from southern ilsabard which is a place i uh do not know much about. as a stormblood gamer. but it's fine the details don't really matter (walking away quickly)

his most prized childhood possession was the ruined scraps of an old arcanist's tome, and through sheer tenacity he managed to teach himself his first rudimentary spell from the incomplete paragraphs therein. he mostly chalks that feat up to the fruit of Time + Boredom and not talent or love, but those pages were the only thing he took with him when it finally came time for him to follow his older brothers' footsteps and leave the family.

gets on the boat. goes to limsa. enlists in the arcanists guild to cultivate what he sees as the One Single Skill He Has. people in the guild ???praise him??? and encourage him?? to keep at it??? which he is not at ALL used to, but it motivates him to work even harder at his training. he's pretty far from home and deeply unsure of himself, but he absolutely does not want to go back to the limited world he knew until now. so that unwillingness to look back sort of inherently keeps him trucking in search of a new purpose to latch on to

he's very sensitive to people being niceys to him, because he's not used to it at all. he's 4x weak to it and might cry if it's coming from an older woman who is even vaguely maternal, due to his horrific mommy issues. also, he wants to be useful to people ("for once"), so he has a hard time saying no to all the million quests and sidequests in the game. perfect

his inability to say no to people who request his help puts him on the Old Nymian Scholar Investigation Mission of course. i am Scholar Guy for a reason and that reason is ZT. this dude never had anything his family valued, and lived as the expendable runt of the litter his whole life, and now is suddenly entrusted with something important for the first time in his life--something bigger and older than him, a way of life, a legacy to uphold and carry forwards into the future

and that mantle is pretty heavy. but he'll carry it! and that's how he becomes a healer boy who will defend any random tonberry with his life. he feels very strongly about the extinct art of the scholars and also about being a healer in general--boy finally found his calling! also he has the echo and is our funny warrior of light but like that's fine. i'm sure the "not being able to say no to people, no matter how tired/hurt/etc he himself is" thing is not catching up any time soon. i did play DRK up to 60 though and lmao. well. hang in there. i even made an amv ab

there's some more stuff about him like how his path through eorzea and as a healer specifically is in lockstep with death at every turn and also how he's a blue mage on the side and whatever but this is long enough. here's a pic of him with one of my favorite "no one else gives a shit about this character" npcs

he's a pretty kitty and very sweet altho he does need to learn to assert himself (and starts doing so through the course of the game). he's very attached to his friends. he doesn't have any love interest or w/e for now he's figuring his own stuff out. gaining confidence. classic stuff. easy protagonist recipe. my meow meow. i played pvp just to get him a haircut. the things i do for zt

2. KRALJICA

the new baby. kraljica is not her original name, but she's never going to use her original one again. her surname is Radinasch, which used to be Aradina, before she killed her own queen who may or may not have been also her wife (ofc by hrothgar convention she then changed her surname to represent the loss of her queen) (despite being the killer) (it's a memento :) )

she is a bozjan hrothgar so we're back to ilsabard shenanigans (which remains kind of problematic for a stormblood gamer, but It's Fine). she actually knows ZT's mother, but not in a good way. Radina's group was in local political tension with ZT's mom's group, so there's some history there (notably in that kraljica would recognize ZT as "zahsa's runt" (derogatory) and not be very nice to him about it, but they don't really share a Personal history beyond the Faction Squabbles)

back to the point though, kraljica killed her queen, and most of the other followers of said queen were not very happy about that. killing the queen is like really high up on the list of things hrothgar do not want you to do. so she is branded queenkiller and exiled. some of the other hrothgar choose to follow kraljica out (having faith in her leadership for various reasons), making her their new queen as they venture to eorzea together (and all of their surnames become akraljica to match).

kraljica takes the surge of enmity against her as a natural consequence of what she did, and doesn't correct anybody who identifies her as a queenkiller in her journeys. she basically does not care about her shattered reputation or having to leave her home, because she is on, a secret, Other Scheme.

what they don't know of course is that radina asked her to do it. for scheme reasons. #women

kraljica is acting in accordance with radina's will. not even her own loyal followers know what her plan is, but they can clearly tell she has conviction; even when being hated by her people and ousted from her home, kraljica moves with that same inexhaustible willpower

(maybe she has questions, when she's alone, and wonders how much radina kept from her in the final days. and maybe she misses and mourns her. but all of that is only for her, in private, when no one can see... in front of the others, she's unflinching, and a leader they will follow no matter what...!!!)

she doesn't seem to have the echo and isnt a warrior of light. ZT can do that stuff. she's like busy with her own thing. she's running around collecting suspicious amounts of aether and being suspiciously driven and faithful to her cause. suspiciously

ok fine it's because radina asked her to cut her loose from mortality, venerate that, and bring her back as a primal. because she wants to become a war god strong enough to take revenge on the empire. something that will keep coming back, no matter how many times it's destroyed, as long as her chosen can still call for her....<3 that's so romantic

of course, what returns will not be radina-the-person. it will be an image of her will, shaped by kraljica's mind and the bloodpool of radina's aether. radina is dead for good; what kraljica is summoning is a representation of radina's goals and dreams, fueled by pure belief and a lot of aether. That Which Resembles Wife But Is Not will cast one megaflare for every minute of suffering inflicted upon bozja. (speaking to the empire thru a megaphone) this is your final warning

their summoning is pretty unorthodox and and "partial" (the primal does not manifest a corporeal form at this time, but it is certainly present in its vessel to some extent)--the game already allows a few different quirky summonings, so we're just playing calvinball and making up Another Special Case (this time owing to the specific setup and execution of radina's plan, her and kraljica's synchronicity about the whole thing, kraljica's unique position in her life, and some sprinkles of Rule Of Cool to taste) . imo the game is flexible enough about it that putting in Just One More Weird Summon Strat is not gonna break anything (LMAO) so it's fine <3

all you have to do is write in a side character who goes "but! that's not possible..." while the thing is happening in front of them

anyway suffice to say no one is doing it like radina's weird ass, and she couldn't do it without her wife guy who is willing to do whatever she wants. suffice to also say that kraljica's own aether is noticeably Weird and over-aspected by her beloved primal, and that "radina" (that which resembles wife but is not) Could Be lowkey tempering her right now and nobody would even notice it because her goal and the primal's goal are already one and the same. but that's probably fine. radina would never do that to her <3......

unless of course there are things about her even kraljica never understood. but surely that wouldn't happen

its really hard for other people to get a grip on kraljica because she won't let anybody close to her emotionally and she definitely won't spill the beans on radina's secret scheme. her boys are with her no matter what (#hrothgang) (they also picked up a viera whose city name now includes "akraljica" hahaha). other people are just like um that is a shady lady who is casting spells we dont even know how to classify. scary. also she's got a situationship with a nasty bandit milf (my friend's hrothgal<3) so we better just leave her alone. bad vibes all around

radina was a gunbreaker. kraljica is very good at manipulating aether and a strong fighter too, but i havent rly settled on a canon class for her. because her actual "canon class" is like. "a summoner from a hypothetical Other FF game. not even a specific other FF game, just Very Much Not This One" LMAO

she would just be like ah its um secret ancient arts from my homeland . you wouldnt know her. shes from a different continent. not like how they do it in limsa. not at all. goodbye (walks away mid conversation) and the arcanists could not stop her. like

anyway i'm not used to playing a female char so i keep getting distracted by her breasting boobily around. they dont let ZT jiggle like that so how was i to know... and basically, so-called free thinkers when dalmascan draped top 👇

she almost had a different face marking way back in the benchmark character creation era, but looking at it now it looks so weird without her big X . like who is that

(metian vest so important for the shoulder bulk... not gonna lie)

anyway kraljica would hear about the final aeon from ff10 and be like that's fucking right.

[haoreo]

✿ message in a bottle | park jeongseong

content: jay x fem!reader, student au, secret admirer!reader, both of yall are idiots, just fluff tbh

disclaimer: nothing in particular, a lil bit of swearing. i mean no harm to any of the members, this is purely a work of fiction.

word count: 1.7k+

jay was either extremely clueless or simply in denial about his multiple admirers across campus. the multiple chocolates and coffees left on his desk in the morning, the constant invite to be their plus one at whoever’s party - were all politely declined by the boy who was too kind for his own good.

you, on the other hand, were very familiar with such admirers. being jay’s best friend since childhood, you had to endure all of the questions that they would shoot you left and right all about his likes and dislikes. a constant nagging of what his favorite color, flavor, or scent was what you had to endure for most of your friendship with jay.

“you know, you should really start giving this to other people. i think my blood sugar levels are gonna skyrocket with all of this chocolate,” you said thoughtfully one day.

looking up from his textbook, he watched you as you were scanning the pile of sweets in front of you, looking for your next victim. “i never said that you needed to eat them, you know,” he said as he gazed back to the material in front of him.

“but they’re such a waste! you know if you actually gave on of these poor souls a chance, these gifts would stop like right away,” you said in a rush, with your mouth half-full with a candy bar.

little did jay know that you wanted to take back the words that you said right then and there. why, do you ask? because you have had a long-running crush on said boy before you even knew what a crush was. it didn’t take much for you to fall for him, really. all of the times where he held out his hand when you tripped, when he would always make sure that you felt included in every group setting, when he would always arrive with your favorite food to cheer you up whenever you were upset, even if you swore you hid your feelings really well.

but all of that didn’t matter now because you just suggested that he start pursuing other people, probably losing all the little hope you’ve had with him.

“look, all of these gifts are great and all, but,” he paused, briefly looking at you, “they’re not from the person i want,” he finished softly.

because jay had a secret of his own, of course.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

now, you don’t know what 2000s romantic comedy possessed you since that conversation with jay, but you decided to take matters into your own hands, writing and rewriting the same letter that you plan  on slipping into his locker the next day. anonymously, of course.

what could go wrong, right?

which is why you had to put on your greatest acting skills when a little pink note written in red pen fell out of his locker one day.

‘hi jay! weather forecast says it’s gonna be really hot today. don’t forget to drink water okie? ily!’

it could have been the weather, but jay’s cheeks immediately warmed upon reading the note. what made this note different from all of the other things he received? he wasn’t sure, but he was already looking forward to the next one.

“well that one’s new,” you said, reading the note over his shoulder, “somebody’s got a secret admirer,” you said as you wiggled your eyebrows at him with a wide smile.

while temporarily distracted by the sweetness of the note, jay was reminded once again that you didn’t see him the way that he saw you. this note was most definitely from his existing admirers and not from the person he wants the most.

you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“hi jay! i heard you got a perfect score on our math exam yesterday. i’m so proud of you! ily!”

as jay had hoped, the secret admirer had been writing to him everyday. a lot of them were oddly specific and definitely not general information, but brushed it off thinking that the news would get around somehow.

“what if write them back?” he suddenly questioned during one random lunch break, making you choke on your food.

“well, do you even have a clue on who they are?” now, you were very careful about leaving any signs on who you were in your notes, not leaving any sign that can help jay trace it back to you.

jay paused for a moment before replying “well, nothing about them, i guess. but isn’t it weird that they knew about my exam score? i’m pretty sure you were the only one i told.”

and in that moment, jay’s eyes widened as he felt his heartbeat quicken. “is it you?-“

“no!” you said so loud that the whole cafeteria glanced at where you and jay were seated. you regained your composure and cleared your throat, wracking your brain for a good excuse. “come on jay, i’ve known you since we were in diapers. i even saw you ate your own boogers. somebody probably just took a peak at your paper that day,” you said hastily, forcing out a laugh.

jay forced a small laugh too, returning his attention to his food. of course, because who was jay to you that you’d write love notes to?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s almost been a month, and the little pink notes quickly became the favorite part of jay’s day. the person behind them always seemed to know exactly what to say at the right time. which is why it bothered him so much when one day the notes had stopped.

what was worse was that you texted him that you were sick that day, leaving him no other option than to stare at your empty desk by the classroom window.

“by the unhealthy amount of time you stare at her, it’s a miracle she hasn’t caught on about your little secret,” his close friend sunghoon said as he sat in his assigned seat.

jay immediately straightened up and brought his focus to his friend. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said defensively.

“yeah, you and ___, both,” sunghoon laughed, “the two of you are so clueless it hurts,” sunghoon finished. he looked to his friend and noticed that he was once again lost in his thoughts.

“hey, i know i’m barely ever serious. but i think it’s about time that you told her, hm?” sunghoon said softly to his friend.

jay could only offer a small nod to his friend. he thought about what sunghoon said. why would he tell you? and ruin your friendship? no, he couldn’t do that. he couldn’t bare the thought of losing your company that he enjoys almost too much.

your excited smile whenever you were about to tell him the latest gossip, your frustrated frown when you couldn’t understand the material he was teaching you, and your peaceful face whenever you end up falling asleep on his shoulder in the middle of one of your movie nights. possibly losing all that over three silly words. no, it wasn’t worth it.

loving you from afar would be enough for jay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

three days. three days without letters and three days without you. and jay was going to go crazy.

which is why he marched his way to your house with your favorite soup in hand. he didn’t bother knocking anymore, because being your childhood friend, he didn’t really need to.

“what are you doing here?” you said under your fort of pillows and three blankets. you honestly were feeling better, but you still didn’t feel a hundred percent, so you opted in staying home still.

“i brought you your favorite, and honestly school was getting so boring without you,” he said as he took off his jacket and placing his things down before approaching your bed side.

he placed his hand on your forehead, feeling your temperature. “your fever’s not that bad anymore, how are you feeling?”

“better, just not exactly up to go back to school yet,” you said quietly. you kept your gaze on jay, who went and started preparing your food on your desk. curse jay for being so perfect. for being so handsome, caring, and selfless. it was almost impossible to move on from him. but it wasn’t like you wanted to anyway.

after a little bit of fuss from you, you eventually allowed jay to feed you. you hoped that he’d think that any heat that emanated from you was from your fever, and not from his sweet gesture. eventually you finished your food and you started talking about what you’ve missed at school.

“wait, wait. i can’t remember all of this, can you hand me the notepad in my bag? it’s in the front pocket with a pen,” you said without another thought.

jay picked up your bag from your desk chair and brought it to your bed. he opened the front pocket and pulled out the pen and notepad you were talking about.

both of you stared at it in silence.

it was the same pink note that he’s been receiving this past month, with little white hearts printed around its border. and a red pen clipped on.

jay looked at you, waiting for you to speak first. but between fight or flight? oh you definitely weren’t a fighter. so you ran.

but jay ran after you, trapping you between him and your bedroom door.

you couldn’t do anything but close your eyes and hope that the earth would swallow you and save you from this situation.

“look at me,” jay whispered.

“no,” you said even quieter.

jay let out a sigh. “why?” he said desperately.

“because i’m scared,” you shuddered out, “i’m scared of losing you because i’m pretty sure i fucked it all up.”

this was it, all or nothing. “why would it be? i love you the same, don’t i?”

you quickly opened your eyes to witness jay’s warm smile. “i’m sorry i took so long, baby.”

if you were already warm from your fever, you were definitely burning up now.

“can i kiss you?” jay said as he leaned closer.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you whispered back, shifting your gaze back and forth from his eyes and his lips.

“i don’t care. just let me, please,” he begged.

and with the slightest of nods, he brought your face to his, capturing your lips in a kiss. a well overdue one at that.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Small fun fact about me:

My mom is neurodivergent too! And not only that, but

Me and my mom share a special interest.

[A short post about me, my mom, hyperfixations, and how acceptance can help you grow]

For the last ten years, both me and my mother have had a hyperfixation on Marvel movies and Superhero movies in general.

And if anything, she's more fixated than I am.

This started at the same time, despite my mother never picking up a comic in her life. It happened when we first saw the Avengers in theatres in 2012.

Since then me and my mother have seen every Marvel movie on the day of release, or even a day before release.

When I was in high school, I remember her specifically pulling me out of school early to take me to the marathon premiere of Thor 2 and The Winter Soldier.

She's seen every Marvel media to date outside of the Netflix series. She's already finished Secret Invasion.

In recent years, we've gotten Unlimited movie memberships, and because we live in NY we can often see movies the Thursday before the Friday release, so we go to the movies almost twice a month, and we see movies repeatedly.

I saw ATSV three times in theatres while she saw it twice, and saw GOTG a second or third time. We recently saw Blue Beetle the day or two after release. She keeps me CONSISTENT.

The reason why I theorize about Marvel media and Spider-man media is largely because of her.

For years she was the one I theorized with. I've spoken to her about whether or not Peter set Miles up (she isn't convinced), or argue with her about whether or not Khonsu from Moon Knight is cool (he is).

She watches more Marvel fan content than me and inhales all the essays, reacts, and Easter egg videos on YouTube.

She's the same with recent Star Wars, she's seen Andor and Boba Fett and the Mandalorian, and currently working her way through Asoka.

And she knew about my past fixation on Loki in specific. She even knows about Hobie and Diane.

I told her I want to go to NY ComicCon as my spidersona and she was like "... You'd have to work on your roller skating" and I was SHOOK she remembered that about Diane because she's right.

But yeah, we've always been REALLY REALLY close over marvel stuff, and it's amazing having a parent who has the same fixation as you. It's like a natural thing, and I can speak openly about my theories or interests and she'll be like 'Oh yeah I noticed that incredibly niche moment where Hobie did that one specific thing, what of it'

I'm never treated weird for my fixation. Cause hers is stronger. I told her I didn't want to see GOTG again and she was like HUH and I was so heartbroken that I went and saw it anyway 😭😭

Some of my favorite moments with my mom are in movies theatres. And because we share this niche interest and neurodivergency, we're able to have these in-depth conversations about these characters we've formed bonds to together.

When Loki the show came out we'd been waiting literal years for it - like literally since 2013 talking about it. And I had a lot of mixed feelings about it.

But I could talk about those feelings and thoughts and characterizations with someone I know wouldn't ostracize me, knows the material as well as I do - if not more, and cares about these characters.

Because of that, my theorizing skills were able to grow all throughout my teenage years.

Because my hyperfixation was nurtured instead of demonized.

And I just think that's SO COOL.

Just wanted to share. Here's a photo of Miguel because I hate consistency [this is a hobie household]

Bye.

[dramaticl0vers]

HERE SHE ISS

SAY HI TO OLENNA AND HER HUBY

@amoexii here she is, I tried my best 😭,and also I changed her name from "Dhelia" to "Olenna"

Information about this beauty:

-In the beginning she I named her Dhelia, but in the end I decided that her name will be Olenna, which means "Ray of light or sun", for the reason that I will soon explain

- She is the eldest daughter of Hades and Persephone ( I love this couple a lot in the series, because in the original mythology it is...well, TURBIOUS)

-The reason for her name: Hades called her Olenna because living in the underworld, which is such a lonely and dark place, her birth symbolized the entry of a “ray of light” into his life and that of Persephone, which brought with it joy, love, union and the feeling of never feeling alone again.

-After her are her little brothers, Zagreus, Melinoe and Macaria (WHICH I DON'T KNOW WHY THE HELL THEY DIDN'T INCLUDE IN THE SERIES, LET'S HOPE SHE JUST HAS NOT BORN YET)

- She has blonde hair like her mother and eyes like her father, a kind of lilac combined with gray.

- Although in her physical appearance she is more related to Persephone, in her occupations as a deity you can see a mixture between both parents, mainly dominated by Hades, given that she is the goddess of peaceful death, protector of the living and the dead and guardian of the Elysian fields, but at the same time she is also the protective goddess of flora and fauna.

-A curious fact about her is that she had really fast growth, to give you an idea, she was already an adult millennia before the events of season 1 happened.

- She has powers, they are a kind of purple “fire”, and she can also make some plants bloom, but she doesn't like to use the first ones because when she was a child she tried to control them and, not being able to do so, she always hurt someone and that scared her a lot, especially when she once accidentally hit Persephone with they.

- The flowers related to her are: Forget-me-nots (her favorites), lilies, bells and white jasmines.

- As for her personality, she is quite reserved with people she doesn't know, but she is pleasant and fun when he gains confidence.

-she doesn't like to talk a lot. Olenna is afraid of ruining things with people outside her close circle, other deities, for example. Therefore, when she is in a social environment and her close ones are not around, she prefers to remain silent and express her opinion only when it seems necessary.

-She does not usually get angry easily, but she HATES it when those she loves are bothered, she has grown up in a home full of love and has a high emotional responsibility, she is willing to defend her family no matter what the cost, she learned that from her parents.

-Try to avoid Ares at all costs. (Why did they make him so bad? He is so good in the original mythology, he literally killed the person who raped his daughter, my baby😭)

-She doesn't like Demeter. She doesn't hate her, but she doesn't want to form close ties with her either.

-now, what you are all here for, OLENNA AND HERMES💕

- She knew Hermes, bah, she had seen him a few times from the balcony of her room in the Underworld. , leaving the souls with Charont, but never approached him, and then had the opportunity to meet him in person when he arrived at Olympus.

- Regarding their relationship:

- They both love each other in such a way that they feel empty when his partner is not there.

- Olenna, as I said before, has a great emotional responsibility, she hates seeing Hermes sad or downcast in any way and she feels truly fulfilled when she can feel that he feels loved.

- Demonstrations of affection are both sentimental, physical and material.

- Sometimes, when Olenna is in her garden taking care of her plants, or talking to Artemis and Athena, among others, he passes by her side using his speed skills and alone He places a kiss on her lips or cheek before continuing with his work, it always catches her off guard, but she loves that.

- They are quite passionate and fiery, you wouldn't want to share the same sector of rooms after they didn't see each other for a week because of their duties. .

- They both have long hair, which is why they both love to brush and comb each other's hair, especially Hermes.

- Neither of them really likes the idea of sharing their lover, Olenna is quite territorial when it comes to his loved ones and the idea of another deity having the pleasure of sharing the love of his life is not something he likes very much, to tell the truth. As for Hermes, he is more than satisfied with having his wife, he is not TOTALLY CLOSED to having a threesome, for example, but he prefers Olenna first.

- Hermes would definitely dedicate his career victories in the Olympics to her and Olenna would be like : “Honey, you know that if you wear sandals that give you speed it's technically cheating, right?” and he would respond like: “I didn't see any rules, darling.”

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I've been watching Dara O'Briain's stand-up DVDs in the last few days. I was going through my comedy folder for the few things left in it that I've not watched, figuring I should go through all those before I jump into anything new. And realized I downloaded all of Dara O'Briain and Ed Byrne's DVDs ages ago but only watched a couple of them before.

So I'm watching Dara's in order now, and I'm enjoying that. It's an old school thing, I guess, the comedian who stands on stage in a suit, delivers around 90 minutes of very slick and professional mainstream comedy with an interval and an encore, full of stories about what it's like to appear on TV shows and do corporate gigs and travel a lot, and then releases it as a DVD around Christmas. The old school feel possibly helped by the fact that I keep forgetting Dara is younger than he looks.

This is that, and that is not always my favourite thing, but Dara O'Briain is so eminently charming and likeable about it. It's observational comedy, but it's not all "middle aged and middle class marriage and parenthood" material. I mean, some of it's that, and some of that is still funny. But he talks about science and technology and occasionally other vaguely nerdy things, he puts the conventional observations in interesting contexts, it's cool stuff.

The thing that's really striking about Dara O'Briain is his crowd work, which I knew already because I saw him live in Halifax on his Voice of Reason tour, in 2022 (absolutely fantastic night, obviously). If I'd not seen him do it live, I'd have assumed this got heavily edited in the DVDs, to make him look so good at it. But nope, the DVDs showcase exactly the type of audience interactions that I remember seeing Dara do live. He picks people out of the crowd, spins stories about whatever they do with their lives, weaves them all together in real time, and then works all that into the show, before bringing it back around to them at the end. And he'll make fun of them, but it always feels playful and fun, never combative. He refers to this, with ironic grandiosity, as "making gods of them". And it is fucking impressive that he's built a career on being able to do this every night, even though he doesn't know what he'll be given to work with.

I've watched most of his DVDs by now, but I had to cut out a few clips from his 2010 one, where he picks out a fourteen-year-old boy in the front row who's shamelessly filming the whole thing. There are other clips I could have cut out, to embed in this post and give an example of what I like about Dara's comedy. But Dara O'Briain is very famous, anyone reading this will have already seen enough Dara O'Briain somewhere to know what they think of him. I want to show people the wildly brazen teenager:

What a king in the making. Is this how all great bootleggers are trained? Do they start out as children who pull stupid shit like this, and then grow up to refine the skills? This was from 2010, so that boy would be 24 now. I would like to meet that man and shake his hand, and find out what's on his hard drives.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

Susan Kay's 'Phantom' Read: Part IV (Nadir)

I always knew I'd have mixed feelings about this chunk of the book.

I feel like the issues with the rampant Orientalism and just generally how very wrong Kay is about so much of this have been sufficiently commented on by others, so I'm not going to spend a lot of real estate on that. I'm mainly going to focus on what bugs me personally.

Which is... well, several things

Where do I start?

I guess with "Nadir" himself. I don't know who "Nadir" is, but he's #NotMyDaroga. 'Why's that?' You may ask? Well because, in my opinion, he's only tangentially related to his source material. There's a lot here that checks the boxes: Daroga of Mazanderan, reluctant with many of his duties, simultaneously in awe of and terrified of Erik’s genius all of that's in there. Buuuuut

First of all, Kay took the most practical, likeable character in Leroux's work and made him whiny and annoying. All he does for the first five pages is complain. Within those five pages he also refers to himself as "regrettably squeamish". Nothing happens in the course of this episode to show him growing out of that, so how we get the, pragmatic badass who haunts the Paris opera house keeping Erik in check I have no idea (I also have no idea how this is gonna go later in the book).

Not only that but this in particular stuck out to me:

Some of the illusions were positively supernatural, and long before the show was at an end, I was quietly convinced that I stood in the presence of a genie, created from fire more than two thousand years before Adam. I noted uneasily that he was left handed. Every Moslem knows that the devil is left handed--it is for this reason that we always take care to spit to the left. My fingers felt instinctively for the amulets that hung at my neck, an outstretched hand made in silver and the dried eye of a sheep, killed at Mecca on the great day of sacrifice. Both were powerful protective agencies, and I had never felt more in need of their protection. I took care not to meet his gaze, for I already feared his evil eye.

This stands in sharp contrast to the Persian of Leroux:

If I had been a superstitious man or easily susceptible to weakness, I could not have failed to think that I had to do with a siren of some sort whose task was to trouble the voyager bold enough to travel on the waters of the lakeside house; but, thank God, I come from a country where the fantastic is so cherished that we know it to its depths, and in times past I myself have studied it extensively. Anyone who knows the magicians trade can excite the human imagination with a few simple tricks.

Of course you can make the argument that the Persian speaking here has known Erik for years now and is wise to his tricks, whereas Kay's "Nadir" is seeing them for the first time. But I'm sorry. I don't buy it. Leroux's Daroga, though amazed and awestruck by Erik's skills at illusion, never indicates that he has even been so fooled by them as to actually mistake him for more than what he is: a genius, certainly, but no genie.

Which leads me to wonder if Erik's magic tricks in this book aren't a little too fantastic. Granted Kay never leads us to believe that they really are supernatural, but she uses Erik's degree of genius as a bit of a shield to get away with not revealing the secrets to some truly fantastic tricks, while Leroux nearly always explains Erik's mechanisms (whether they would work to the level of efficacy Leroux describes its up for debate, but he at least does have explanations for them all.

I think it's hilarious and contemptible that Kay has, at numerous times in this book, dropped incredibly clunky and gratuitous clusters of architectural technical terms, just lists of them for no apparent reason except, I can only assume, to show off how much research she did on the subject; and then makes it so patently obvious that her cultural research is dubious, negligible, or entirely non-existent.

She goes to great lengths to paint Nadir as a devout Muslim, which is not something Leroux ever did, now that I think about it. I don't doubt that the Persian is, at least culturally, be he seems quite ambivalent to his religion, as a rule. It quite literally (as far as I can recall) never comes up. But Nadir is. Several times she has him exclaim "Allah" much in the way a Westerner would use "God" as an expletive. Not "Wallah" not even "By Allah" just "Allah".

"Allah, how I hated cats!"

And it's not only the things he says but the things he doesn't say that annoy me (though I'm a layman, and very much open to correction). Common Islamic phrases that could easily be used in any of the situations Nadir finds himself in are completely left by the wayside. There isn't even a single "Inshallah" in his entire narrative.

Another problem I have is that Kay's Daroga is a widower with a sick son. A very complex emotional relationship develops among Erik, Nadir, and Nadir's son, Reza, to whom Erik feels an affinity, as the boy is slowly crippled by a debilitating congenital disease. I have a problem with this because its all very... I call it the Michael Burnham effect. That is to say this is a very important and big emotional thing in The Persian's relationship with Erik and I don't believe that this wouldn't have come up in any of the Persian's narrative if it was actually the case. This is a liberty which Kay, in my opinion, shouldn't have taken. It affects Erik's entire relationship with The Persian in ways that strain my credulity. And it's part of the reason that Erik's character here is fully beginning to stray deeper into a musical-based version than the Leroux-version (which I have a problem with, as this book is ostensibly following Leroux's outline). She even goes to far as to have Erik acknowledge Nadir, with complete (if reluctant) sincerity, as his friend. And this pretty much confirms my suspicions of where "Erik and Daroga are friends" comes from. Whatever Erik and The Persian's odd relationship in the book is, I can't call it friendship with how frequently The Persian calls him "the monster".

Note don't get me wrong Erik and Daroga do definitely have a bizarre bond that is, I think, a kind of friendship. Daroga feels sympathy for Erik, and also responsibility for him. He is, in many, ways, more like an older brother than a friend. I could say so much on this subject but that's for another post.

But what I find really baffling and annoying about Erik and Nadir's "friendship" in this book is the drugs.

I can't express how repugnant I find this. I think it's an insult to both Erik and the Persian, the fact that Nadir HIMSELF GETS ERIK HOOKED ON OPIUM. WHY. And then she has the fucking nerve to lampshade with all the "Oh yes Opium's a terrible horrible deadly habit" Only to have Nadir turn right around and give Erik his fix. What the actual fuck.

But setting aside that Susan Kay actually said "I'm not just going to make Nadir annoying, I'm also going to make him an enabler!" Is the fact that... I just don't buy Erik doing drugs.

I know Erik is an artist, and artists throughout the ages have been associated with decadent habits like drugs and alcohol to soothe their tortured souls or broaden their minds to ever more fantastic plains blah blah blah.

But Erik is not an every day kind of character. Erik is notable in how uniquely he glories in his tribulations. Erik's music in particular is a manifestation of his pure emotions both good and bad, and I think for him to alter his moods with substances, to him, would sully the purity of his art, which he always characterizes as a spiritual, almost holy thing.

And here's another thing. Part of the reason Erik is doing opium in this book is, yes the horrors of his past, but also the terrible things he's doing in the present... which I do think Erik of Leroux did grow sick of what was demanded of him in Persia (he explicitly says he wanted to put it all behind him), but I don't think he probably felt... that bad about it? I dunno maybe that's just me.

Moving on.

I'll pause here to say that while I think Kay is a bit guilty of "de-fanging" Erik in this book, I genuinely do appreciate her emphasis on his affinity for the weak and broken, and his knack with animals.

So now I come to one of the things that made me look most askance at this section. Again, the conceit of this book (or at least what I was given to understand the conceit was) is that its filling in the blanks that Leroux left vague. And I don't really know if that was Susan Kay's intention, but it's certainly how the Phandom took it. Which is why it bugs me when there are things in here that either don't quite jive with canon or straight up contradict it.

Now in terms of the canon of Leroux's actual book, we're not sure exactly which Shah employed Erik. Leonard Wolf point out that Leroux mentions Erik "[fighting] the Emir" and posits that he is referring to the Afghani-Persian war of 1837. This would put Erik’s age in PotO at about 60, assuming he was very young at the time (in his teens). That would make Erik's patron Mohammad Shah Qajar.

However M. Grant Kellermeyer (and most others writing about this period in Erik’s life, including Susan Kay) favour the idea that Erik’s patron was Mohammed's son, Nasser al din Shah Qajar.

When Erik and the Persian talk about the "Rosy Hours of Mazanderan" they both make mention of the "Little Sultana", who is described by Leroux's narrator in the epilogue as "the Shah-in-Shah's favourite", whose boredom was the Shah's impetus for sending the Persian to find Erik in the first place, and whose delight in bloodthirsty spectacles of torture and execution allowed Erik's talents in those areas to develop into a finely honed art.

Now I would take "the Little Sultana" to mean one of the Shah's wives, concubines, daughters, or even a sister.

But Kay, for some inexplicable reason, chooses to interpret this capricious (and bloodthirsty) female figure--the Shah's favourite--as his... mother.

Now Nasser al din Shah's mother was Malek Jahan Khanom, who, true to Kay's portrayal was Regent of Persia for one month (September 5th - October 5th) in 1848. Also like Kay's "Khanum", Malek was a formidable and politically savvy woman, and definitely not an individual you would want to cross.

I can't dispute the idea of the Khanom being an incredibly powerful figure, and the type you would need and want to keep appeased (she is described by Kay as keeping her son firmly under her thumb), but I have to look at the fact that Kay read "The Little Sultana, the Shah's Favourite" and really said, "Right. That'll be his mom" and squint a little bit.

On top of this, the Khanum is characterized as having a sexual obsession with Erik, very similar to the way Duchess Josiana is aroused by Gwynplaine's facial deformity in Victor Hugo's The Man Who Laughs, and is first irritated, then enraged by Erik's constant indifference. This fact is not lost on the Shah.

I just don't know ya'll. It's...I just... I don't know about this.

M. Grant Kellermeyer speculates that the "Little Sultana" Leroux refers to, to be the seventh wife of Nasser al din Shah, Jeyran, whom he first took as a mistress in around 1850 following a chance encounter during which he apparently fell in love with her on sight. One story of their meeting even asserts that she was one of his mother's servants.

If that is the case it would be one reason why Malek and Jeyran stood locked for years in stark political opposition to each other.

Jeyran was herself formidable and enjoyed many masculine pursuits including hunting and shooting, and not even the Khanom was able to dissuade Nasser from conferring her the title of Forough ol-Saltaneh, or from naming her son the crown prince (though this decision was stuck in political hell for years because of Jeyran's lack of influential blood-lines).

She was his favourite wife until her early death in 1860 at the age of 29.

It's my opinion that Leroux's "Little Sultana" is a composite of Jeyran and her successor as the Shah's favourite, Anis al-Dalweh, who was even more formidable and politically savvy than Jeyran. She was the only one of the Shah's wives known to share his meals and the only one he suffered to publicly criticize him, and she took over Malek's duties as the head of the harem upon her death in 1873.

Masterpost

[obwjam]

Sobbing, I neeeeed spiderverse g/t from the one and only- ESPECIALLY WITH CHARACTERS LIKE MIGUEL AND PAV

okay hello please if you will indulge in this little drabble about a tiny spider-person at HQ

Miles knew there were lots of spider people out there, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Especially the one that was actually the size of a spider.

He had to do a double-take at the tiny figure sitting snugly on Pavitr's shoulder. It took him a minute to realize that they, too, were wearing a little black spider suit, just like his.

"Staring is rude, Miles," Gwen chided when he saw where her friend's gaze was.

Miles shrugged. "Can you blame me? I've never seen a tiny person before." A pause. "Have you?"

"Well, yeah. Everybody know The Widow."

"The Widow?"

"Yeah. Like a black widow. But that name's already taken."

Miles shook his head in understanding as Pavitr glanced down to his tiny friend.

"Do you want to introduce yourself?" he whispered. The tiny nodded. "He's a pretty good guy."

"Haven't you only known him for like, 10 minutes?"

"I'm a great judge of character," Pavitr said with a smile.

Miles froze when Pavitr started to walk toward him. Instead of saying anything, the Mumbattan Spider-Man simply extended his arm out, palm up, and let his small friend scale themselves down.

"Hi," they breathed, offering a small wave. "I'm --"

"PETRA!"

The tiny whipped their head around. "Miguel! Heeeeey, you big brute."

"I'm not in the mood for nicknames," he grumbled, though Petra knew he wasn't actually mad. "You were supposed to be helping me in the lab."

"Funny story," Petra said sheepishly, "Pavitr was actually taking me there!" They paused and gave Pavitr a pinch when he didn't react.

"Oh! Right. Yes. That is definitely true."

Miguel rolled his eyes, but let Petra see their lie through, because god, they were just adorable. Any annoyance he felt just melted away with just five seconds of conversation with the tiny.

"Give them to me," Miguel demanded, holding his palm out.

"Miguel, come on," Petra smirked. "Ask him nicely."

Pavitr simply raised his eyebrows. Miguel sighed.

"Give them to me... please."

"There, see? That wasn't so hard."

Nobody would ever say it out loud, but watching Petra jump around and make impossibly long leaps was everybody's favorite thing -- especially Miguel's. He had found them cowering and scared in their home dimension, completely unaware of the spider powers they possessed. He had practically raised them, watched them learn and grow and become comfortable in the giant worlds they visited. They were the closest thing he'd ever have to a real daughter.

Miguel's heart fluttered when Petra landed lightly into his open palm, like it always did. Pavitr bent down and gave his friend a fist bump, grinning at the comical size difference in their hands. He unfurled his index finger and gave them a playful poke, to which Petra responded by shooting webs at him and yanking him forward. He always forgot how strong they were.

"You better brush up on your skills, Pavitr. They're stronger than you," Miguel joked with a lighthearted smile.

"He can smile?!" Miles whispered furiously to Gwen, who smirked. "He doesn't seem like the joking type."

"Miguel has... something of a soft spot for them," Gwen whispered back. "Not hard to see why."

"Yeah," Miles agreed. "They're adorable."

Petra made their way up from Miguel's open palm to his shoulder, where they promptly took a seat and grabbed onto the folds of his suit for stability. Miguel always made it a point to walk slower and straighter when he had Petra with him, no matter how many times they said he didn't need to.

Miles stiffened when Miguel walked over, but slapped a smile on anyway. Pavitr practically materialized next to him, grinning up at Petra.

"I love this," he said, nudging Miles. "They're taller than both of us now."

Petra waved dramatically. "I'll see you later, Pavitr!" Their friend gave them a small salute, and they turned their attention to Miles. "And it was nice to meet you for five seconds! I'm sure we'll talk more later."

"No, you won't," Miguel grumbled, but Petra didn't care.

"Don't listen to him!" they smiled. "He doesn't control me."

"You are on my shoulder right now," he said flatly.

"And I can just as easily get on another one," they teased. That seemed to shut Miguel up.

Miles couldn't help but laugh at the sight of a tiny, little spider person on Miguel's huge shoulders. Man, he loved it here.

[hiccupbutpurple]

One thing I love is listening to httyd eps while imaging different AUs and cause I’m bored, can’t go to my room rn (and found half of this sitting in my drafts from last month lol), I’ve decided to pass the time sharing one.

It’s from the latter part of Midnight Scrum (going from when Hiccup gets taken) and it’s a royalty AU (which I’ve seen a lot of floating around here recently too)

It’s the standard ‘Kidnapped Bride’ plot line, with King Viggo wanting Prince Hiccup. He puts the bounty on Hiccup to bring him in.

- Amos and Berthel are still bounty hunters but they are a bit more threatening and less silly, most of their sillier lines I ignore and imagine them said in a more threatening way. They still retain their gay energy though.

- Savage was originally one of Viggo’s servants and when Hiccup was first held captive, he was there to guard Hiccup’s cell. He was slightly kinder to Hiccup in that situation but then when Hiccup escapes, he gets blamed and exiled. That makes his whole motivation to get Hiccup to Viggo being to get back into Viggo’s good graces. Hiccup doesn’t trust him either way cause even if he was kinder then other guards, he still wasn’t kind. He does hold hope that he can reason with him originally though (because Hiccup knows he knows what Viggo is like) but Savage is very blinded by his goals.

- Throk is a well known assassin but gets hired by Mala a lot (and their relationship, I picture it platonically but romantically also works, grows over time until he becomes her personal assassin. At this time though he could be hired by anyone). The Defenders of the Wing are also another kingdom but there isn’t a war against Dragons and they hold no real allegiance to Berk and aren’t actual enemies to Viggo either. They are a neutral party but Mala does prefer Hiccup (but she’s not forthcoming about it) and thinks Viggo is cruel, so decided to help him by hiring her favourite assassin.

- Krogan is also an assassin/bounty Hunter (He and Throk have competed a lot in the past). He has no ties to Drago and was more Viggo’s personal assassin (and lover) before they had a fight. He decided to get Hiccup to see Viggo again and remind him of his skills in a threatening way. It’s a mixed message of ‘remember how much you need me’, a ‘here’s you new lover, I’m stronger then him (thus being more on you’re level, and I could kill him easily if I wanted)’ and a ‘dont forget how dangerous I can be to you and your goals’ type thing.

Some lines I’ve decided to alter slightly:

Berthel: What's that? Dragons? -> Berthel: What's that? / Amos: His friends. (Since they already knew of the dragons)

//////

Hiccup: Viggo will never respect you. He's playing you for a fool. -> Hiccup: You know Viggo will never respect you. Please. He's always played you for a fool.

//////

Savage: I don't know what they're gonna do to Hiccup. It's his own fault he got grabbed, not mine. -> Savage: I don't know where they’re gonna take Hiccup. It's his own fault Viggo sees him as a whore, not mine.

//////

Hiccup has a rough material built into his chest plate capable of creating sparks when striked against and uses that and a stone to light a stick on fire rather then the dragon blade. (Kinda a little hint of magic because I said so)

//////

Ryker: Oh, I'd love to drop you, but Viggo wants to kill you himself. -> Oh, I'd love to drop you, but Viggo wants you for himself.

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - They Meet Again pt. 2

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage. This is the one where fate plays games and Sammy plays Cupid. Part 3.5 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 1.4k+

Warnings - lil swearing

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona

A/N - Hello lovelies. Been in a writing slump. This is short-ish. Apologies if it's not too good. I had to get it out of my system to jumpstart my neurons. Not proofread.

“No, but if you resell it, you’ll get a good price,” Jaehyeong exclaimed.

“Are you sure it’s not a dupe?” you asked, chugging the last bit of drink in your glass.

Hoseok shook his head vehemently across the table and reached out to grab the lapel of the jacket in question, the one Dojoon was wearing now. He turned it inside out to show the lining where there was a textured material. “You can fake it down to the buttons, but not this.”

The jacket had gone around the room and everyone was fascinated by your kind knight-in-fancy-designer-jacket kitten rescue story.

They were equally amused by you being stood up by said knight. All of them had their theories - Jaehyeong claimed that the stranger was too rich to remember about the jacket, which Hajoon agreed with. Therefore, selling it on a second-hand fashion website was fair.

Dojoon claimed that the knight in question did not bother going back for the jacket because it probably was a gift or reminded him of a former lover and instead considered the opportunity of the jacket being used as a temporary kitten carrier by a stranger as good riddance. Yijeong agreed with him. Yijeong was Dojoon’s twin from another mother. They have been friends for a long time. They often agreed about a lot of things.

Sammy and Hoseok, however, blasted this guy-they-did-not-know the moment you told them that you waited almost 2 hours at the cafe, convincing yourself every 15 minutes to wait for another 15, on the off chance that he was stuck in traffic or whatever. Eventually, you thought a third cup of coffee would be a bit much that late in the evening and you also did not want to fill yourself up with bagels since you already had dinner plans.

Sammy called him several colourful alternatives of “jerk” every time the stranger was brought up. Hoseok passed you the chicken bucket and said, “It’s behaviour like this that shows, you can’t buy character.”

The only one who was quiet on the issue - who just nodded curtly to every opinion on the table - the one who downed seven of his nine big pegs till now in a single swig, was Yoongi. His silence on the issue was seen by his friends as a) him being shy in front of the new person joining them that evening, b) him not giving a fuck about the matter.

His silence and aversion of gaze every time it met yours was, however, read by you as disinterested, bordering on dismissive. Before you were a couple of drinks in, looking at Yoongi and trying to interact with him gave you weird little knots in your stomach.

It wasn’t you feeling intimidation or being starstruck. Age and years of being friends with Sammy had made you immune to celebrity vanity. Of course, you knew who Min Yoongi was. You loved his music and have been the longest fan of his group. When Sammy initially told you about the plan for the night, you had screeched hard enough to spook Woolfie out of his nap.

[His idea was to introduce you to some of his friends in Seoul to help you find your circle here, in case you connected with some of them. Not that he patronised your socialising skills but he knew that more often than not you had a habit of pulling yourself into a shell of seclusion, much to your detriment. Back in your hometown, you had other friends to pull you out of the occasional slump. In a new city though, you could see how easy it would be to melt into the background and continue having cup noodle meals in a nook of your apartment.]

But it wasn’t that.

You felt Yoongi’s gaze upon you sparingly enough throughout the evening to not be spooked but enough to know that he was avoiding direct conversation with you on purpose. So after your eighth drink of the night, when you and Yoongi were the only ones awake at the table, you decided to grab the bull by its horn.

Hoseok and Hajoon had moved to the kitchen to attempt to dig ice cream out of the freezer to satiate their craving for ice cream soda, and Sammy was passed out peacefully on the floor, with the fancy designer jacket acting as a cover. The rest of the party had left.

You sat up straight, well, as straight as you could sit without tipping over and rocked your body back and forth, ever so slightly. You crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat. Yoongi, pretending to be engrossed in his phone, looked at you from the corner of his eye, still making sure his back was slumped against the big sofa in the living room, urging every functioning neuron in his body to help him feign relaxation.

“Is there something about me you dislike?” you asked. You saw the finger scrolling on his phone pause.

Yoongi did not move for a couple of seconds. He hoped that he could pretend to not hear. But his jerk score had been through the roof this evening and he did not intend to take it any higher. He looked towards you and you drew in a breath, waiting for him to respond. He folded his outstretched legs to bring his knees up to his chest as he hung his arms over them, one of the hands still holding his phone. He said, in a voice deeper than you anticipated, “No, I don’t dislike anything about you.”

“Is it my presence itself that puts you off then?”

“No.”

“Then why have you been-”

“Avoiding talking to you?”

“Yeah?”

“You remind me of someone.”

“Oh!” your firm tone from earlier softening significantly. Yoongi could see confusion in your eyes as you struggled for an apt response to that. You had probably anticipated some amount of hostility but you “reminding” Min Yoongi of someone was not on your bingo card of the evening.

Was it a friend? A lover? A colleague? A no-one?

Before you could ask anything further, a very drunk Hajoon planted himself next to you. Hoseok followed him and handed you a beer glass full of ice cream soda. He also helped steer the conversation towards your move to Seoul, asking you more about your position at SNU and how you were friends with Sammy. Hajoon occasionally filled in on details that he was aware of including anecdotes from the few times you have met the band on tour when visiting Sammy.

This time though, drunk as you all were, the dynamic in the room changed. Yoongi was actively involved in this conversation. Listening, reacting, asking. This time around, he held your gaze, albeit fleetingly. The knots in your stomach shifted form. This time, it was less uncomfortable. During your recollection of drunk Sammy stories, you may have also heard Yoongi chuckle wholeheartedly at the story of how the two of you had once managed to nick a stranger’s toupe.

The throaty sound of his unadulterated amusement reverberated in your chest. But you tried to gather your thoughts so that you wouldn’t be caught swooning at a rapper that millions of people around the world wanted to marry.

Yoongi, on the other hand, could not look away from you. Did not want to either. Your confrontation with him earlier that hour had pulled him out of his head, his feelings of guilt and embarrassment from earlier that evening taking a back seat.

In its place, he felt the same warmth he felt when he saw you comforting the kitten. The disappointment he felt when he thought he had blown his only ever chance of seeing you again faded away. He felt relieved. Hella guilty, but also relieved. He could hope to see you again. He could hope to hear your voice again. He could hope for an opportunity to share a comfortable silence with you someday or a coffee.

[crossroadsdimension]

I’m still rolling around in analysis mode with Trigun Stampede, and I remember folks familiar with the serious complaining about how much of Vash’s backstory gets revealed.

Except...while there is a lot that’s blatantly said, it doesn’t outright confirm what old Trigun fans already know.

Here’s what we know so far in the first 3 episodes, if you’re coming in as a newbie:

-He was a kid living on a colony ship when the crash happened

-He has a brother named Nai (going by Knives) who is absolutely off his rocker and wants the Plants to survive more than the humans on this desert world. (I mean, just look at Ep 3 again if you think I’m wrong)

-Vash is something more than human (my dad, who is watching this with fresh eyes, thinks that Vash is a cyborg because of the circuitry). Other than his appearance, how quickly he moves and how well he can avoid bullets even while scrambling around like a clown in Ep 2 makes this clear.

-Vash has excellent eyesight and sharpshooting skills, considering he isn’t using a sniper rifle to shoot at EG Mine’s feet as the man sat on his perch in Ep 3, and a single boulder and a single bullet can destroy an entire cluster bomb. Considering how quickly he probably had to calculate how big of a boulder to throw and where to hit it, that means he’s got a very good brain between his ears. (Whether or not he uses it, though....)

-Vash doesn’t want people to know he’s skilled. He said in the first episode that destroying that cluster bomb was all luck on his part.

-Vash is terrified of his brother. It’s a through line in the first three episodes that culminates with Knives showing up. Anyone inexperienced with the series probably thought the piano was pretty until they saw the look of pure terror on Vash’s face, and his shots went very wide when he was shooting at his brother.

-Vash doesn’t like killing/hurting anyone and wants to keep people safe and alive, and he gets furious when someone threatens the status quo because they live for killing others (like EG Mine. I’ve seen that clip of his voice dropping an octave while he points his gun in the bomber’s face, and I know you all have, too).

At best, we could guess that Vash and Knives are enhanced humans, like the two Nebraskas, but with Lost Technology instead of cobbled-together experimental materials. It would explain the “circuitry,” as well as maybe some feelings of betrayal on Knives’ part, if he doesn’t want anything to do with the humans who “re-made” him.

Again, the above is looking at the information the show has given us and extrapolating on what newbies could be thinking. I don’t know if anyone’s actually thinking this or not, but considering my dad’s current perspective....

Here are the things we don’t know because the show didn’t spell it out (putting under a read more if you don’t want to see these questions, and because the post is getting a little long):

-How long it’s been since the crash (or what they even call the crash, because the manga has a name for it!)

-WHAT Vash and Knives are

-The “gate” that Knives talked about, and what Vash might have that mirrors Knives’ abilities (insofar as they’re brothers, at least...I expect some character foil/mirror nonsense)

-Where Millie is (in all seriousness I expect her to show up at some point)

-How Vash lost his arm and where he got the prosthetic

-How Knives knew where Vash was at the end of Ep 1 (it sounded like he was talking to someone....)

-Knives’ long-term goal for himself and the Plants (beyond getting rid of the human “parasites,” as he calls them in Ep 1)

-How far back before the start of the show Vash gained the “Humanoid Typhoon” status

I’m sure there are some other points, but I hope this makes it clear that no, Trigun Stampede does not give us everything about Vash right off the bat. It gives us some points, but not everything. And I’m looking forward to how they reveal everything else as we go along

[corellianhounds]

For the character ask game… 25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? (Din, Grogu, Boba and Fennec—all, some, or just one if you don’t want to do too many 😉)

I LOVE this question tysm 💕

My first impression of Din was colored by intrigue; I knew next to nothing about the show going into it, but I’ve always loved silent stoic masked characters, and then they made him a cool, capable lone gunslinger type?? Awesome, I’m already into it

And then as the first episode went on and we get the religious/cultural aspect of his code going into the covert, the deference he gives the Armorer and the mere GLIMPSES of his past in the flashback (all of this sequence of scenes scored by Ludwig Göransson’s incredible soundtrack), I was suddenly SUPER invested in this guy. They’ve already made him complex and interesting and I’ve loved every second so far, what’s next??

And then they introduce the kid at the end. And he’s possibly the cutest thing to come out of Star Wars. And you know just from looking at him what his species is meant to imply. And the second Din shot IG-11 I knew immediately what kind of story this was going to be and I was hooked

I was a fan of Star Wars before season 1 of The Mandalorian, but season 1 made me a Star Wars Fan™

I was also super intrigued by Fennec and was really impressed with Ming-Na Wen (no surprise there, she’s a great actress) and I was SHOCKED that they legitimately killed her off bUT THEN WE GET A POST-CREDITS SCENE!! I’M ALL IN BABEYYY! GIVE ME MORE OF HER!

As far as first impressions go of Boba Fett, I was passingly familiar with the character beyond surface level canon lore and I’d read half of one book where I really loved his character (The Mandalorian Armor by K. W. Jeter, Boba’s characterization there is solid and a lot of the basis for how I’ve always viewed and written him), but his reintroduction via “The Tragedy” was one of THE BEST character intros EVER. It’s one of the best fight scenes in terms of how it was shot and how he’s depicted; Fett is framed as and successfully shown to be a POWERHOUSE of strength, skill, intimidation, and sheer stage presence. It’s one of my favorite sequences to come from Star Wars, especially season 2 of Mando. I was so jazzed about it I was scream-texting my sister and I could just KEEP going on about it. Boba Fett in that episode is SOOOOO GOOD

Aaaaand… Then season 2 finishes and we get TBoBF.

I still love Mando and the kid as they were originally written, but I don’t love what they’ve done with the story and direction of this (and adjacent shows). Season 2 was messy and I wasn’t as big of a fan but I thought “okay maybe the story’s just going in a different direction and I should see what the creators have in mind” but by TBoBF I realized (with all four of those characters) OH, no, the showrunners didn’t have a cohesive game plan or long term story planned out with any meaningful thought, and by season 3 I realized I was pretty much done with whatever direction the original creators were taking the characters. I have better ideas and creators of something I used to like aren’t above criticism and they’re not immune to fans expecting better of them. You have control of one of the biggest franchises on earth and you can’t afford better writers? I don’t care about production quality or quantity of shows if the stories themselves are bad. Do better.

(Also not only are the stories not great, it sucks to see TBoBF, a show led by two veteran actors and people of color, be as badly written and received as it was. It, like many things, wasn’t the actors’ faults. It had a bad script and bad direction and now it seems like Boba’s character— one that has had a long and LASTING cultural presence— is being put on a shelf because the show wasn’t received well, but Disney/the Star Wars producers aren’t admitting to their role in its failure.)

These actors deserved better, the source material deserved better, and I’m disappointed by how quickly it went downhill and, in my opinion, isn’t salvageable based on how they’ve handled all of the original story hooks and character arcs. I have zero excitement for the movie and aside from Andor (which is not without its own flaws in other ways) I’ve haven’t enjoyed any of the other Star Wars shows in the last four years 🤷‍♂️

So I guess in short, love the initial characters, dislike the present depictions based on later material

Ask Game

[blvckqwz]

Faith

The fabric of her jeans was beginning to feel uncomfortable on Isabelle’s skin, the blood soaked material clinging to her legs everytime she moved. Maggie had given her a wet cloth for her neck and face, but Isabelle still felt dirty. She was starting to think that the feeling wasn’t going to go away even after she showered.

Her eyes fell on the three latest members of the newfound group, Carl’s baby sister Judith, a big man named Tyreese and the woman from Terminus. 

Her name was Carol, Merle told her as they watched her dad run towards her, hugging her really tight. Rick made her go away from where they were before because she did something that seemed bad then, but that now was normal. 

Her uncle refused to tell her what the woman did. He also didn’t want to tell her where he was during that time. He didn’t want to tell her a lot of things. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz her head ringed. Isabelle closed her eyes. The buzzing stopped. He must have really changed, Isabelle thought, because before he would tell everything that was in his mind, even if it was very rude. He seemed a lot more calm then before too, which surprised the girl. 

Her uncle was bad, she knew it, but she loved him anyway. Because he was family, and family loves each other even if they are bad, and dirty, and rude, and probably had rabies in Merle’s case. 

That was why she loved her dad, even if he was bad. He was a different bad than Merle, because Merle was bad to everyone but her, while her dad was bad to her and her only, at least now. 

He probably had another family now, so he forgot about his old, bad and dirty one. Maybe he had already found a place in his heart to replace his old, bad and dirty daughter too. Maybe that was why he was holding that little baby in his arms instead of her. 

But Isabelle thought that it would be selfish of her to be jealous, because little babies needed to be held in someone’s arms, and she wasn’t a little girl anymore. And little Judith was probably happier to be in Daryl’s arms than Isabelle would be. She probably felt safe too, which was good. Her daddy’s arms used to make her feel safe too, a long time ago.

Isabelle’s thoughts went back to the woman, Carol. She had recognized her for the second time, the first being while they were both at Terminus, when she was still talking to Rick and Daryl, Isabelle could see it in her eyes as they wandered on her as she was still clinging to her uncle’s side. But she didn’t say anything, and for that the girl was grateful. 

She knew that she would get in trouble with her dad if he found out that she was putting herself in danger like that. He probably already knew, but still she was glad that the topic was being avoided.

Her dad wasn’t used to being a dad even before it all came down, Isabelle could only imagine how the end of the world would affect his parenting skills. He also looked like he changed, but Isabelle couldn’t really place it. He just seemed different, nothing like the man who left her standing in the trailer park years ago. 

“Hey.” Carl said as he walked next to her, a smile plastered on his face. He was always smiling. Isabelle wondered why, because he couldn’t be much happier than her, considering the current situation they were both stuck in. She didn’t really understand him. 

“Hi.” She murmured, occasionally glancing at him with the corner of her eyes. Sometimes when she looked over at him she noticed that he was already looking at her, but he quickly looked away so she wasn’t really sure. 

Isabelle usually didn’t look away, which used to get her in a lot of trouble, especially with the grownups. They always thought that it was to challenge them, but Isabelle always said that if they felt challenged by a kid looking at them maybe they were the problem, not her. That also got her in trouble. And trouble only meant one thing. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz 

“How are you keeping up?” The sheriff boy asked. Isabelle looked at his hat. He still looked silly with it on his head, like a kid who missed the memo that halloween had been canceled a long time ago. But the hat itself wasn’t silly. It was just Carl. 

“I don’ know.” The girl shrugged, “My head hurts a bit.” She said, “But you can’t tell anyone.” “Why?” Carl asked in confusion.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.” She explained, her gaze returning to her shoes. 

“You get in trouble because you are hurt?” He asked like it was the silliest thing he ever heard. He was used to walking around with a big sheriff hat on his head, a baby strapped to his chest and a gun in his belt but he found that hard to believe. He was really silly.

“You don’t?” She was also confused. 

Carl shook his head, “Maybe Maggie knows what to do, her dad was a doctor.” “Really?” Isabelle asked. She also wanted to ask where he was now, but she had already figured the answer. He was probably with Naomi and Carl’s mom in Heaven. 

“Well technically a veterinarian.” He explained, “But he healed me when I had been shot.” 

Isabelle fully turned to look at him, her eyes wide in surprise, “You got shot?!” Carl shrugged like he was talking about the weather, “It was a really long time ago, before Judith was even born.” He explained. 

Isabelle wanted desperately to ask him a question that kept ringing in her head since they reunited with the group, but decided otherwise. Instead they spent the rest of the walk talking about their previous injuries, and the girl almost forgot that she was covered in blood and that the dead were walking on the Earth. 

Carl made everything feel like how it was before. 

*

“You want to talk about it?” Carol asked Daryl as they walked behind everyone else, her hands carrying the two bottles she had previously filled up with Tyreese, their conversation flashing back on her mind. 

I just need to forget about it.

Carol was glad that at least her demons showed up just in her sleep and not in the middle of the woods like Daryl’s did. Of course she knew who that little girl was, she had already thought that it was her when she saw her at Terminus, Daryl only confirmed it.

Daryl had told her about her right after they had found Sophia in the barn, when he was still just a redneck and she was just a scared housewife. He got really angry at her, for losing Sophia, for not attending her funeral. For not being able to protect her. And Carol knew that it was because he saw someone in Sophia, someone that was long gone just like her daughter. So seeing her alive and well was quite a shock. She didn’t really look like the picture Daryl carried in his vest’s pocket. She was older, rougher and her eyes were chopped shorter. But Carol knew it was her. And she could only imagine what it meant to Daryl, to see the girl he had to mourn without even a body to bury. 

“Nah.” The man grunted, shaking his head. There was nothing really to talk about. His daughter was alive. And Daryl still didn’t have the guts to talk to her. The sky sent him a fucking miracle, it resurrected his daughter from the dead and brought her back to him but he still couldn’t bear to look at her without guilt washing over him. 

She was alive, but she was hurt. She was alive, but she was hungry. She was alive, but she hated him. It haunted Daryl, how he inevitably became what he swore he would never be like. 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me about it, but you should really talk to her.” The short haired woman insisted, “The universe is giving you a second chance. Don’t ruin it.” 

Daryl wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but he knew that she was right. He had to swallow his pride and cat like a man. Otherwise he would lose her forever.

But what if she didn’t want him to reach for her? What if she didn’t want him to be her dad anymore?

There was fear in Daryl’s eyes as they watched his daughter walk in front of him. Fear of rejection, fear of what he has been doing, or mostly what he hasn’t been doing, has caused a permanent stain on their relationship. 

“I don’t think she wants me to talk to her, y’know?” He finally admitted, his head low. He didn’t have to glace up to feel Carol’s sympathetic eyes, “I’m not made for this shi’, don’t know how to be a father.” 

“You can’t hide from your own daughter. She doesn’t feel loved by you, but I know that she’s wrong. Just show her that.” The woman said, “Now. Before shit hits the fan again. Before you risk losing her again.” 

Daryl’s eyes went up again, his gaze again on the girl. She moved her head to look at Carl, and for a second Daryl was afraid that she was going to turn around and catch him. But she didn’t and Daryl felt stupid. 

His daughter had for a long time been his greatest strength. She was the only reason he kept going all this time, the only reason he was still fighting. If it wasn’t for her he would probably have been dead a long time ago. But Daryl recognized that she was also his worst weakness. He was weak if he was with her, because he would sacrifice everything just to not have to look at her teary eyes. And the fact that he was the reason why she cried was driving him insane.

The anguish he felt when he thought about her being hurt welled up in his chest, risking to explode any second. And he could only imagine what he might do if she really did end up hurt. 

He had already noticed the way she dragged her limp arm, he wanted to ask her about it, but she would probably shoo him away like the rabid dog he was. He wanted to ask her about a lot of things, but he didn’t know how to.

Daryl wondered if what Carol said was true. Did she really think that he didn’t love her? He was never good with words, he believes that never in his life he had ever said I love you to someone, but now that he was beginning to think about it, his actions didn’t really reflect much love either, at least not when it came down to her. At least not the ones she knew about.

He knew he was a shitty father, but he didn’t know how to fix it. He never saw what it meant to be a father, he never knew what it meant to be loved by a father. And he sure as hell couldn’t improvise after years of neglecting his child. 

Oh god he neglected her. 

He neglected his child, his baby. He became everything he hated about his father. He had yelled at her, he had left her for days. He hadn’t provided for her, he hadn’t done anything to protect her until it was too late. He even hit her at times.

“I don’t deserve ‘er, y’know.” Daryl said, snapping Carol out of her own trance. He wondered what she was thinking about. It was either Sophia or whatever happened while she wasn’t at the prison, he thought. 

Carol shot him a questioning glance, which made him awkwardly clear his throat. He needed to let it out to someone, and Rick already had too much on his mind. There was his other brother, but somehow Merle was getting along with Isabelle better than he was, which concerned him. Was he really this shitty? 

So he had to suppress the urge to say whatever and go back to his business and instead started talking again, “I never deserted ‘er. She’s kind, and I don’ know where it comes from. Surely not from me.” He lets out an empty chuckle, “She had always been too good, never knew why. And it scares me.” He admitted, “Because good people don’ get far, y’know? Good people sacrifice themself, and I don’ wanna see ‘er hurtin’ no more.” 

Carol nodded, “That’s why you are here Daryl. So you can protect her. So she can keep being good.” That was why he was here.

*

A scream echoed through the forest, making Isabelle’s blood run cold. She turned around to look at her dad, but he was already looking at her, his face all serious. Did he figure out that she was hurt? Was she in trouble? Their eyes met, and Isabelle wondered if he wanted to tell her something. But she doubted it. He was probably just mad. At what she didn’t know. She didn’t understand eye-language, she barely understood when people spoke with their mouths, understanding the eyes seemed impossible. 

But grown ups spoke with their eyes more than they did with their mouths, Isabelle knew that. It was just another reason she didn’t want to grow old. She didn’t want to worry about saying something she didn’t mean to with her eyes. She already did when she spoke with her mouth. 

Sometimes really mean things exited that mouth, and her mama always said that she would have to wash it with soap, which sounded awful to Isabelle, because she had eaten soap before and it tasted disgusting. 

She didn’t know why she said bad things, maybe it was just in her genes to be bad. She hoped it wasn’t true, because she really tried to be good. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

A hand grabbed her bad arm and she let out a yelp. She only then noticed that Carl wasn’t there, and she thought that he probably ran towards the noise with his dad. Still she was beyond surprised to look up and see her dad holding her arm as they ventured inside the woods. His grip loosened but Isabelle tensed up. 

She would be lying if she said that she didn’t want him there, but at the same time she didn’t want to talk to him. Isabelle just wished that her dad was good like she always thought him to be. 

She would like to think that if he said sorry to her right now she would yell at him, but in reality she would probably run to him and hug him really hard, like she did when he first saw him again. 

Nothing would ever be the same again. Even if the goofy man that was with Abraham really had a cure, nothing would ever be the same again. Even if her dad said sorry a thousand times nothing would ever be the same again.

But for Isabelle a single sorry would be enough. She just needed to know if he still cared. If she was still his little girl, even if she wasn’t little anymore and even if she had killed a man. She wanted to be his little girl. She wanted to be her mom’s little girl. She wanted a lot of things. That must have made her very selfish, because she wished for too much. 

She should just appreciate the fact that her dad was holding her, even if it was just because he had to drag her across the woods. She should just appreciate the fact that her mom loved her, even if she was far away and probably dead. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz It was getting louder.

“Com on, come on!” Carl yelled from the front of the line, followed by his dad and other people as they all looked at the walkers surrounding a high rock, a man on it, screaming. Carl didn’t hesitate to put out the first walker, shooting it dead in the head. Isabelle admired him, not even she had that much of a good hearth. But Carl did like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Michonne’s gun smashed another dead’s skull and as Isabelle watched Rick kill another she understood that it would be over soon. So she looked up at the man. He was wearing all black clothes, with a white collar. 

Was he a priest? Isabelle hadn’t seen one in a long time. She used to go to church, even if her dad thought it was stupid. But she still wanted to. 

She didn’t know if she believed in God anymore, but she knew that she liked listening to the stories her priest used to tell everyone every Sunday. She only liked the ones with a good ending and where people were good though, the ones where there were bad men scared her. She still had nightmares about the story about that man that almost sacrificed his son for God. His name was Canine or something like that. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Isabelle, are ya okay?” Her dad asked, concern spreading across his features as he held her arm really tight. She needed to throw up, she realized.  

Isabelle shrugged his hand off her, and she could see a flash of hurt in his eyes. Good, she thought, that’s how I’ve been feeling for the last thirteen years. 

God she was really awful. “Just forget it.” She murmured as she went to Carl. 

“We’re clear, keep watch.” Rick said as he turned his full attention to the priest, just like Isabelle did before. He didn’t look like someone who survived that apocalypse at all, more like someone who was having a really bad nightmare. The girl wondered if it was all an act, if he was pretending to be weak just to come down and kill them all. Terminus had left an unfading scar on her trust.

“Come on down.” Rick spoke again, this time to the trembling man, who hesitantly came down his rock. 

“You okay?” He then asked the priest, who had this unreadable expression. The man stood still for a few seconds before bend down and began puking. Isabelle scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked away, the rancid smell of the vomit making her sick. 

But she understood him, because she also puked when she was nervous. Such a waste of good food, her mom used to say. Isabelle missed her.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Isabelle.” Carl lightly shook her shoulder, snapping her out of her confused state. The girl hummed as she closed her eyes, trying to shake the current pressure on her head. She felt foggy, like everything around her was just a confused daze. 

“Gabriel said he has a church, come on.” He said as he began walking after the group, who Isabelle noticed was following the priest, “Garbiel is the priest?” She asked in confusion. She didn’t hear him say that. Or that he had a church. Or anything at all. Carl shot her a look between worried and confused, “Yes.” He replied. 

“Oh okay.” The girl murmured as they walked. Her eyes fell on the pool of vomit where the priest was standing until a few minutes before, and she felt sick again. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Isabelle.” Carl called her again, making the girl turn her head to look at him, “Did you hear what I said?” Isabelle looked away embarrassed. She didn’t hear anything. 

“That’s it. I’m telling my father that you are not well.” He announced.

“Don’t.” Isabelle pleaded, “It’s nothing, really.” “This could get you killed.” Carl urged, “We didn’t come this far just to see you die because of a headache.” 

Isabelle fought the urge to roll her eyes because she knew that it would only worsen her pain, “Exactly Carl, it’s just a headache.” Carl eyes her suspiciously, “If you don’t get better in a day you have to tell my father, okay?” The girl nodded, “Yeah sure whatever.” She grumbled before speeding up.