#because i simply cannot process what i just witnessed

[gemkun]

2.2 spoilers below :

my most important takeaway from this patch is that my boy got a cinematic okay thank you please admire how beautiful he is

now as for the nitty gritty

why did hoyo have to choose to mention oswaldo when i started considering his ass like how can i say no now smh this clearly shows that he's going to be integral into the game so i don't know the likelihood but i feel like someone who's been so prominent in aventurine and boothill's history won't be plastered onto an npc and he may be playable in the future ( pls hoyo i want to see his model so i can write him cause i cannot choose fcs to save my life )

additionally extremely important is jingheng they simply stole the show

also the wife is safe and sound ( unless diamond decides to demote him ) and i screamed so loudly when i saw the ip3 like those are my pookies

the screwtio moment had me kicking my legs as well

i self-indulgently want to point out this line and i'm not even going to state the implications it should be obvious

furthermore i love boothill he's so stupid and danhill is on the horizon

we got a sneaky little dancae too what a win

argentio in penacony is another highlight like just look at them and their unparalleled beauty

friendly reminder this is what argenti said about aventurine btw

sunday was undeniably beautiful but i think he needs to be psychoanalysed or immediately admitted into therapy ( unpacking him as a whole is going to be an essay of at least 3000 words )

lastly i would like to address that this clockie puppet has aventurine's eyes and i don't know the implications of that

[sasha-psychedelia]

The Provably Worst Gun for Home Defense

What is provably the WORST gun for home defense? A .22 single shot rifle is at least small and quick to point. A Barrett M82 is at least going to instantly stop whatever it hits. Even a good old fashioned musket is going to do good damage and won't hurt your ears. No, I wanted to know what the undisputable worst home defense gun in the world is; and I have found it.

This is the .950 JDJ Fat Mac. It is a 100 pound, 5 foot long rifle that shoots a one pound solid brass bullet at 2200 FPS. It is a non-NFA item only because the ATF gave it a sporting exemption as a joke as if anybody is going to hunt with this. This round would be overkill for hunting blue whales.

I would like to paint a picture for you. It's 2AM and you hear a window break in your living room. This is the worst day this could happen, as every single one of your guns was lost in a tragic boating accident this morning. All were lost except for one. You look across your room in dread at your anti-kaiju rifle. You know what you have to do, but you don't know if you have the strength to do it, both literally and figuratively.

Heaving the rifle into your arms, you load a .950 cartridge and begin to waddle towards the door. Your feet make a loud "thud" as you take each 6" step. You know the intruders hear you. You hope they do, for perhaps they will run and spare the world the suffering that is about to befall it.

You try to set the rifle down, but end up clipping your bedroom door and it is immediately knocked off its hinges by this battering ram in your hands. You attempt to round the corner, bonking the muzzle against the doorframe and adjacent wall across the hall at least 4 times.

To your horror, two invaders stand there at the end of the hall.

With a heavy heart, you raise the rifle to your shoulder while making inhuman grunting noises from the strain of attempting some semblance of a shooting position. The burglars simply stare in disbelief, unable to process the situation they are witnessing, as if in a dream.

You cannot aim the rifle, as the last time you fired the gun, it turned your $3000 Leopuld into a kaleidoscope. You simply hold it at an angle that appears correct and fire.

You are immediately knocked to the floor as if hit by a semi truck going 20 MPH. The shot connected with one of the criminals and it erased him from existence. Even the memories of him have been destroyed and you're wondering why you just shot into an empty hallway. The shot continues to travel through at least 4 houses, a car, and a 10 ton boulder before lodging itself 20 feet into a nearby hill, never to be seen again.

It is at this point, you realize you cannot hear.

The surviving burglar can't hear either but he's also on fire from the muzzle blast and is currently vacating your home. You don't care. Your shoulder is dislocated and there is a hole in your brand new AR500 refrigerator.

You're crying now.

The police arrive and, upon seeing the scene, start laughing. You start crying harder.

[beta-therapy]

Why can't betas just "act more alpha?"

We have all seen what it’s like when a woman interacts with a man who she wants. The man brings forth dominance and confidence, which pairs with the woman’s submissiveness and desire like yin and yang. You can easily tell that the two are destined to have sex (which can be thought of as the physical manifestation of these emotions).

A lot of men might witness that and think “Wow, I want a woman to look at me the same way she was looking at him,” then decide to go out and approach a woman in exactly the same way. He would try to carry that same bold, dominant energy he saw earlier.

But instead of responding with submission and desire, the opposite happens. The woman steps back and delivers harsh criticism, like “I don’t give out my number to strangers, so stop acting like you’re entitled to it.”

The attempt at being charming, confident, and forward (traits that make a woman go head over heels for a man) ended up backfiring when a beta tried them, and it made the woman repulsed. Why? Because it’s not possible to “learn” confidence.

Imagine if all the things that women find irresistible about the men they sleep with could simply be learned and implemented by anyone. Imagine if there was a blueprint that anyone could follow on how to seduce women, and the only thing separating alphas and betas is that the alphas followed the blueprint.

Then we would all just follow the blueprint and have a ton of sex! There would no longer be this disparity where sex is abundant for some men and extremely scarce for the rest.

But that disparity—caused by the tendency of females to all flock to a minority of males for sexual reproduction—has been a fundamental characteristic of our species for millions of years. There’s no blueprint that allows one to cheat human nature. A beta cannot put himself into the category of men that women desire by simply mimicking alpha behavior.

You can try to, but you’ll see that any woman will immediately know what you’re doing. Your body language will be slightly off. The expression on your face will be slightly off. The words you’re saying will seem canned and rehearsed. A woman will notice your fake charisma right away, and she will not be one bit attracted to it. Instead of fantasizing about you, she will be figuring out how to end the conversation.

Some men have the ability to bring out the dangerous, adventurous, desirous, and hedonistic spirit in women, thus creating that yin and yang polarity mentioned in the beginning. Most men don’t have that power, and actually have a hard time getting women to have sex with him, if he can at all.

Some naïve advice might be “bro, you just need to flirt more and touch her physically to build sexual tension.” Yeah, good luck with that, especially with a woman who’s just not having it at all. That’s a good way to get her to smack you in face and call the police on you.

Indeed, if you try to tamper with the fabric of Nature, it always will snap back and hit you in the face sooner or later.

Now we see that the question posed in the beginning is answered by a basic law of human nature:

It is not possible for any man to simply “learn” the things that make women sexually aroused, for if these traits could be faked, women would not find them attractive because they would no longer say anything positive about a man’s suitability for genetic propagation.

And to clarify, women don’t consciously think about any of this. But their interest in sexual partners is an unconscious process, and the natural law just put forth is a very strong, useful explanation of this unconscious process in the female mind.

The correctness of the law is obvious. Think about every one of the things women go for: confidence, charisma, money, status, sexual history, social dominance, blah blah blah... None of them can be easily faked, and in particular, faking them all at once is damn near impossible. Each of these things say something deep and substantial about you as a man. They each are like games with winners and losers, and the key point is that a loser can’t fake being a winner. That’s exactly why women find these things so attractive.

[anantaru]

more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy

whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.

essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.

so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.

or was he?

or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.

he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.

yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.

but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.

how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.

you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.

both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.

just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.

and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.

if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.

you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.

it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.

you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.

a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.

your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.

alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.

alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.

needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.

basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..

.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[mazuriri]

4.6 update

I'm continuing my thread on Lyney x traveller since Lyney can’t stop showing his ‘feelings’ 👏 (and I write here because I've run out of space to put photos in the other thread).

＊ Arlecchino’s story quest :

During Arlecchino’s quest, it was predictable to come across Lyney and his siblings, along with the inevitable moments shared between the magician and the traveler. Their paths crossed right at the start of the quest in Poisson, with Lyney who calls them from a distance.

The introduction of Lyney x Traveler right from the beginning of the quest is just heartwarming. It's truly delightful to witness their joyous reunion after being apart for such a long time. One cannot help but notice Lyney's excitement as he spots the Traveler from a distance and eagerly call out to them, and the Traveler reciprocating the same gesture is simply heart-melting.

As a fan of this ship, these small actions hold great significance for me. The previous interactions between them have paved the way for a newfound sense of friendliness, which is beautifully exemplified by the Traveler's warm greeting "It's been too long." This reunion with Lyney marks a significant milestone in their relationship, showcasing the evolution of their bond.

The traveler's arrival never fails to ignite a spark of joy in Lyney. This has been demonstrated multiple times and it is remarkable how this simple encounter can instantly brighten his entire day. What is truly comforting is that Lyney doesn’t hide his enthusiasm, openly expressing his delight at their reunion in Poisson.

According to him, this encounter seem destined, as if fate itself has orchestrated them.

After Arlecchino proposed that the traveler should stay in Poisson for a while, she then requested Lyney to entertain the guests, to which Lyney willingly agreed, expressing that it had always been his dream to welcome the traveler into his home and introduce them to his siblings. While others may have different dreams, Lyney's dream was centered around introducing his family to the traveler, as family holds immense importance to him. He had previously expressed his desire to invite the traveler to his home, considering them as a part of his own family. Now, in this quest, his long-awaited dream has finally come true.

(Now his dream has come true, will he have a dream to ask the traveler in marriage lol?)

This guy meticulously explained his process in Poisson, only to discover that it presented an ideal opportunity to exhibit his culinary skills to the traveler. Of course, Lyney... Go above and beyond to leave an even greater impression, as if your magic tricks weren't already enough.

Also dear magician… Other people have something else to do than show their talent in cooking 🤨 (Maybe he wants to be a skilled husband who can cook for his beloved in the future LOL)

As Lyney prepared to hand over the supplies, Chapleau was rendered speechless and filled with astonishment upon coming face to face with the famous traveler and Paimon, whose names had been circulating extensively in discussions among everyone.

Throughout the encounter, Lyney appeared either irritated or nonchalant, emitting an aura of "Dude... there's no need to be so shocked" or "Hey, don't stare at my crush like that" (Could it be that he was feeling jealous? 🤨 There are various interpretations of his expression in that moment, but let's assume it's jealousy lol). He even cautioned him and the other children to refrain from potentially annoying or frightening the traveler and Paimon.

(Let’s not forget that he was the one who was excited to introduce his siblings to the traveler and look what face he makes lmao, he can’t be more obvious.)

The traveler has gained immense popularity, and it is all thanks to Arlecchino and Lyney. Both of them constantly talk about the traveler, and Lyney never misses a chance to mention them. Arlecchino, on the other hand, not only talks about the traveler but also brings up Lyney in her conversations. It is amusing to see how Arlecchino knows about the bond between her son and the traveler share. (I will come back later about Arlecchino's perspective on their relationship)

This has led to children being well-informed about the traveler, with Arlecchino and Lyney playing a significant role in spreading awareness about the traveler's presence.

You know what’s the funny part? The irony lies in the fact that Lyney previously mentioned the traveler's fame within the organization, which raises the question of who is truly responsible for their popularity. It is evident that the traveler's popularity is attributed to the detailed accounts provided by Lyney and Arlecchino, as confirmed by the children during their conversation (because they told so much about the traveler according to Foltz and Chapleau.)

Lyney my boy… there is no way to avoid the children because it is evident that you have been discussing the traveler's actions quite often. This is why they are so well-informed about the situation. Alrecchino also contributes to this knowledge by frequently mentioning Lyney and how the traveler has been of great assistance to them.

Following Freminet's disclosure regarding Clervie, Lyney opts to engage in a private discussion with him in a secluded corner to address familial matters. The traveler and Paimon detect the escalating tension between the two and grow apprehensive. Consequently, they make the decision to intervene in order to avert any potential conflict that may arise between Lyney and Freminet during their conversation.

Paimon emphasizes the bond of friendship among the group, highlighting the shared experiences they have already gone through. What made me smile throughout was that the Traveler immediately agreed with Paimon and didn't hesitate to help Lyney and Freminet. Unlike in the past, there is no trace of doubt or suspicion, they were ready to offer their assistance. As they say, sometimes guests can be useful and Lyney immediately understood what they meant.

The Traveler's bond with Lyney and their siblings has been solidified as one of friendship and care, leading them to offer their help despite the dangerous circumstances. Lyney, aware of the risks involved, attempted to dissuade the Traveler from getting involved, but his pleas fell on deaf ears as the Traveler remained steadfast in their decision to stand by their friends. They just couldn't abondon the siblings, and that's the traveler we all know.

Lyney finds himself at a loss for words, but he expresses his sincere gratitude to the traveler for their assistance once again. The traveler's willingness to help in such a situation deeply touches Lyney, and he is truly moved by their continuous support. The numerous times the traveler has come to Lyney's aid have left an indelible mark on his memory, and he feels an immense sense of gratitude towards them. Each action taken by the traveler holds a special place in Lyney's heart, as he genuinely cares about their well-being. Despite his initial concern for the traveler's safety and his desire to shield them from harm, Lyney understands that they are not easily swayed by his protective gestures. As I mentioned before, he really wanted to keep them out of it, but knowing them for a while now, Lyney already knows they wouldn't easily accept what he would propose.

It is in this moment that he utters the heartfelt words, "I'll protect you like my life depends on it." This statement reflects Lyney's unwavering commitment to safeguarding the traveler, even if it means putting his own life at risk. He is truly willing to protect them at all costs, even if it means putting his own life in danger. He only cares about his family, including the traveler since Lyney considers them family too. It may seem very sweet at first but if we delve deeper, Lyney's words reveals a profound level of care.

• Do you remember when Wriothesley 'kidnapped' Lynette, causing Lyney to panic as he was ready to give himself to Wriothesley in exchange for Lynette’s release. In Arlecchino’s quest, he became upset with Freminet for putting his own life in 'danger' with Clervie's situation. Although Lyney said that the others will be punished by Arlecchino, he was especially really worried about Freminet, showing genuine concern for him. Lyney's deep-rooted fear of losing his siblings is palpable, as he cherishes them dearly and is willing to go to great lengths to protect them, showcasing a touching and sad aspect of his character. We already know that this is not the first time that Lyney has acted in this way, we have already been aware for a long time that Lyney will not hesitate to put his life at risk for his siblings.

However, it remains unclear whether Lyney values his own life or not, but what is certain is that he is ready to sacrifice his life for his loved ones.

(Here for example, Lyney immediately threw himself to protect Lynette before Freminet blocked Arlecchino's attack.)

Personally, I have the urge to give him a wake-up call and remind him that his life holds just as much value, urging him to be cautious. This is the reason why Lynette became angry with him during this quest, and I can empathize with her. Let's be honest, Lyney's actions come off as self-centered : he chooses to deal with the situation 'alone' and doesn't want Lynette to know (same situation in Lynette hangout), but unfortunately, she was there the whole time and got angry at everyone, especially Freminet and Lyney. (I swear their siblings relationship makes me emotional)

———————————

Upon knowing the secret activities that had been occurring behind her back, Arlecchino resolved to take matters into her own hands. However, just as she was on the verge of initiating her plan, Lyney stepped in to intervene and prevent the situation from escalating further (with Freminet, Lynette and Chapleau). Regrettably, their efforts proved to be in vain. Nevertheless, Arlecchino decided to change tactics : they have to fight her.

Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet all agree to this, prompting the traveler to recall the consideration given to them by Arlecchino. Before the punishment, she had asked for a consideration from the traveler and had clearly stated that when the time comes, they must make the appropriate choice when the time comes. Now, that moment came at the time of the punishment of the members of the house.

The traveler carefully considers Arlecchino’s words and because they had made a promise to do so, they ultimately make the choice to support Lyney and the siblings by joining them in battle. It brought a smile to my face to see that the traveler had decided to fight alongside Lyney and the others, as they too didn’t want to witness the 'traitors' get killed, which is understandable. However, their motivation was also to assist Lyney and show respect for his decision. Lyney is also taken aback by the traveler's decision to join them, and I am confident that he will appreciate and acknowledge their actions.

✨ Extra :

I hadn’t mentioned it in my previous thread but I have now made the decision to address this topic and delve into Arlecchino's perspective on the traveler.

Lyney's trust in the traveler is a significant revelation, especially considering his usual guarded nature towards others. This newfound openness towards the traveler showcases a level of comfort and confidence that Lyney rarely displays with anyone else, making it a noteworthy point in their relationship.

The significance of Lyney's statement to Arlecchino, where he identifies the traveler as the person he trusts the most, cannot be understated. Arlecchino, being well-acquainted with her children, understands the weight of these words and the depth of trust that Lyney has placed in the traveler. This revelation sheds light on the unique bond between Lyney and the traveler, highlighting the exceptional level of trust that exists between them, a bond that transcends Lyney's usual reservations towards others.

In the house, each individual see themselves as “family”, prioritizing their connections over engaging with the outside world. Arlecchino emphasizes the significance of regarding a stranger as a family, highlighting the gravity of this notion. Moreover, it is important to acknowledge that they are fatui and opening up to other people outside the house is crucial. Arlecchino understands that the children, particularly Lyney, hold an affection for the traveler. Therefore, when she emphasizes the importance of the traveler valuing this friendship, she warns the traveler to take this friendship seriously, that they should not break this relationship or it could lead to unfavorable consequences.

Arlecchino, after careful consideration, decided to place her ‘trust’ in Lyney and the other siblings. She effectively conveys to the traveler the depth of friendship that exists between Lyney and his siblings, emphasizing its significance. The traveler, having witnessed this bond, is not only accepting of it but also respects and admires Lyney's relationship with his siblings.

They literally have the blessing from Arlecchino since she supports and respect them. With the 'Father' now endorsing the friendship her son shares with the traveler, and Lynette supports what her brother feels (she told the traveler to take care of him many times), Lyney is indeed fortunate to have the blessings and support of both his ‘Father’ and sister. So….

When is the marriage lol?

———————

That's all for this analysis, it was to be expected to have moments between Lyney and the traveler in Arlecchino's quest, I mean... it was OBLIGED. It is now evident that the Traveler considers Lyney and his siblings as genuine friends and is willing to assist them in any situation, despite their affiliation with the Fatui.

Speaking of which, Arlecchino expressed her intention to make Lyney the next 'King' of the house if he stays, to which Lyney reluctantly agrees. Throughout the conversation, the Traveler remained silent, not objecting at all, simply listening throughout the conversation. Despite the fact that the house is part of the Fatui, the Traveler respects Lyney's decision. The development between them is remarkable, and I am pleased to see the Traveler finally opening up to Lyney despite their past, always being there for him and his siblings. Their friendship is truly endearing, and that's why I love them. Everything they have overcome in the past is now ‘resolved’, and they are always happy to reunite.

Despite the focus being primarily on Arlecchino in her quest, Lyney and the others played a significant role, and their contributions were exceptional.

[lets-try-some-writing]

i remember the younger primes being outcasted/mistreated by the older primes after the battle w/ unicron in the covenant of primus, though i don't remember if thirteen was also mistreated since i haven't read it in a long time

so i was thinking maybe a short story about thirteen being mistreated? but like, marginally more since he's thr absolute last of the thirteen

I got you pal.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Giftless, powerless, without purpose. That was what they said about him nonstop. They did not mean to be cruel, Thirteen could see it in their optics. They were merely stating what they saw as a fact. That didn't stop it from hurting. That didn't keep him from wandering aimlessly in order to escape their backhanded words.

Most of his siblings ignored him or otherwise regarded him distantly. He was a decoration at the best of times and a roadblock on days when the patience of his kin was limited. Prima threw him out of the way once, and Quintus threatened to drop him in a vat of acid just to see if an energy being could melt. If he wasn't a waste of space, he was a training dummy. There really wasn't much of a choice on his end. he didn't feel pain, so of course it was only logical that he assist in things that had him performing as an object rather than a person. Thirteen was not their equal, not in the optics of his fellow Primes.

The only one who treated him well was the most unlikely of the Primes. The only other partial outcast.

"Thirteen, my little Prime, what have they done to you this time." Solus ran her digits along his armor, the armor she made for him when she saw how damaged his original shell had become. It was a gift forged with love after she finally witnessed how carelessly he was being treated.

Where before she had largely ignored him, now she coddled him. Perhaps it was the fact that Thirteen was being damaged, or maybe it was simply because she had been mostly unaware of his presence. It could have even been because she saw another outcast in him. Whatever the case, she tended to him.

"Another scorch mark..." She sighed as she pulled him into a hug. It was a new thing for him, but Thirteen melted into her embrace all the same. She was the only one who understood. She was the only one who cared.

"I'm sorry they cannot see your light as I do." She shook as she caressed his helm so lovingly forged for his use. He could feel her tears trickling onto his armor. He wanted more than anything to wipe them away, but there was little use. She was the only one of their number who did not match the mold set by the others, and Thirteen was the broken Prime lacking in power and frame. They were outcasts, and neither of them were going to cease being scorned for their oddities any time soon.

"I promise you, I will change things for us. We will be seen, and when I can convince the others, I will personally make you a seat at our table." Solus cupped his face, her violet optics burning bright with passion. She would do as she promised, regardless of the cost. Thirteen wished he had a voice to deny her wishes with. He was fine being discarded so long as he had her. He needed no seat at the table of the Primes. He needed no respect or honor despite how much he longed for it.

He just needed Solus, and he needed her to be safe. Standing up for him would only make her a target. Her oddities already had her position hanging by a mere thread. If she were to act out on his behalf...

"Don't, please don't. they will hurt you as they do me."

His words meant nothing. She could not hear his pleading thoughts as she comfortingly began the process of touching every new scar upon his frame. It did not hurt. He was incapable of feeling pain. But by Primus, did every mark feel like a scorch on his spark.

"I will speak with Megatronus. If all goes well, we may gain him as our ally and fix things. Don't you worry Thirteen, this too shall pass." She pressed a kiss to the crest of his helm, a motherly gesture that Thirteen cherished. He prayed that she would endure, that her passionate spark would last forever.

And yet, he had a feeling it was not to be.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Watching season 2, Armand is so fascinating yet confusing to me. I have only read 1.5 books at this point so I don’t know much about him at all from a lore standpoint. But, the show seem to made him more nuanced than he was at least in the first book, with his backstory and hearing things form his pov and all that.

What I find fascinating is his bad side; his cruelty and violence, because it doesn’t seem unmotivated as in, like, he SOLELY take delight in - it’s almost like he actually feels ENTITLED to it? Like, he genuinely seem to NOT understand how cruel he is sometimes? Or that he is going too far. Take it out on people that I make no sense too. Or hurt people that he claim to love, and then believe it won’t change anything, and when it does it confuses him?

Very interesting, a lot of the reason for it seems to simply be out of just pure jealousy - and nothing more.

It’s…strange?…And tragic.

I surprised when I started to feel bad for him because I can actually understand how his thought process may go.

Also, his what it seems to me twisted way he sees love. Confusing love with dominance and control; and when he witnesses actual love being given to someone, he doesn’t know handle it and either want to destroy or make it fit the only mould that he knows.

;(

Armand... is Armand. :) (And yes, they gave him a LOT of nuance!)

I'm not sure how else to say it. He does not think like other people. Part of it is the way he was broken, for centuries, by the cult. Part of it is definitely the way he thinks, imho. Anne wrote him with synesthesia, too.

He feels deeply, but fails to foresee the emotional impact on others when he does not feel for people and hurts them (Claudia, for example, and the emotional impact him killing her would have on his relationship with Louis). He cannot really anticipate the repercussions, and therefore is then taken aback and hurt by said repercussions. (Which is why he ends up "readjusting continuously", in the show, too, he constantly tries to protect his own feelings, and reach his own emotional goal, but thereby hurts others... which then backfires.)

And yes, he feels entitled to what he does - and he does what he thinks best, regularly, even in the later books, which is imho part of the centuries of forced ruling as a coven leader. What he thinks is best does not always match with what others think is best though - which is, ironically, something he shares with Marius, who also often does what he thinks best, no matter the opinion of others.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

AU Ficlet(it's more of a whole fic really) #3 - 250 Follower Special 💔

LOG - #025 A new employee has come to work for the corporation, interestingly enough the witches actually gave her a name. Yet, she hasn't disclosed what it is to us yet so we've simply dubbed her 'Marshmallow Fluff Cookie', since her hair is made out of the stuff. I, personally, find her rather interesting. Why would the witches give her a proper name? Especially one of their own kind. I'll have to put in a request to the manager to have her work with the less... dangerous abnormalities so I can proceed with a study of her. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

LOG - #037 A much more personal log than my previous entries, but it relates to my studies of Marshmallow Fluff Cookie so I suppose that I can spare to keep this. Notably, she seems to be a lot more capable than I and my fellow team managers thought. In the last few days she's been producing majorly good work results out of all the works she's been assigned to. It can be noted that she dislikes having to work with Tear of the Witches, I don't know why but I hypothesize that she may have a... distaste for the witches. I asked her what she thought of our creators, she claimed to not really have an opinion on whether she liked them or not. I decided to change the subject and we ended up talking for a while until the manager sent her off to do a work process with Parade of Smiles. Yet, during our conversation I could tell that she was withholding something from me. Just who are you really, Marshmallow Fluff Cookie? - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

LOG - #042 She's finally told me her real name, 'Mackenzie'. Though she prefers that I just call her 'Kenzie' instead, it rolls off the tongue a lot nicer. I fear that I might be becoming rather... attached to her. I can't exactly help it, she's like a nice little puzzle that fits in my hands yet refuses to let me solve it. I simply cannot let anything unfortunate happen to her before my studies of her are over. I'm sure that things will return to normal once my curiosity is sated. Fragment of the Stars breached today, I finally got to bare witness to Kenzie in action. To put it simply... I was certainly intrigued. Surely this is just a mere fascination, it will pass. I hope it does. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

LOG - #051 I believe that Kenzie may be suffering from Distortion Disease. I could tell when her sanity got low, I could see eyes ( not Cookie Eyes mind you) peeking through her dough. I fear that if I don't hurry with my research into reversing the disease's effects that she may turn into one of the many abnormalities held within the facility. As far as I know, she hasn't had contact with a Soul Jam like myself and my fellow team manager's considering that we use ours almost daily. Our Soul Jam contains distortion within them, it's what gives me my strings and ability to levitate. We all knew that there was a chance that we would become abnormalities when we were selected to wield them, yet we took that risk. All roaming causes of Distortion Disease that we know of have been contained, so how did Kenzie contact it? I suppose it doesn't matter at the moment, I'll have to focus on supressing her symptoms should they appear. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

" Blu?" He quickly snaps himself up from his log book, turning to face the pink haired cookie standing in the doorway. They'd gotten friendly over the past few weeks, maybe even months that they've spent working together in the corporation. He couldn't say that he hated her company, because it simply wasn't true. He could feel his soul jam thrum from where it was placed on his chest, it was almost like his heart in a sense, working to keep him alive and... mostly sane. It liked that nickname, and so did he. " Ah! Kenzie." He mused with a bit of an embarrassed smile. " What are you doing here today? I thought that the Manager wanted you to work in the Control Department." " Oh, they assigned me to work on Dream of the Moonlit Sea." She hummed, propping herself up on the table of the break room within the Information department. " Though... you could probably tell from the tear-streaks in my dough." She hummed, pointing at her face. Ah, right, Dream of the Moonlit Sea almost always caused employee's working on it to cry during the work process. And yet... he could tell that this was only somewhat true. There was something being withheld from him, something that she wasn't saying. But what could it be? She's such a mystery, he can't wait until she let's him solve her. But what happens after that? He doubts that he could just... go back to normal. Not with the way his small cookie heart beats in his chest whenever he thinks of her, is he becoming obsessed? Falling in love with someone who could die any day? What a foolish decision. So call him a fool then.

----

LOG - #078 Eheheheh... The Manager was quite foolish today. Sending Kenzie in to use Creation Machine when they knew it would yield a bad, terrible and horrible result. Treating her like the rest of the rather expendable employee's when she's so much more... So, I did what I had to~! I had him terminated... immediately. Do I feel any regret about that? Hah! Not a single shred. They were such a fool anyways. - Shadow Milk Cookie That's not my name. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie.

----

LOG - #079 In regards to the previous log... I believe that I may have temporarily lost myself and succumbed to the powers of my Soul Jam for a brief moment last night. Do I regret what I did? ... I still don't, that concerns me. I thought that I'd feel the slightest bit of remorse but... there was nothing. A new Manager came in to replace the old one, I have no idea how the corporation found one so quickly and yet I don't want to ask. Though this new Manager seems more... competent than our previous one. Kenzie appears to be doing better today after last night. My research, however, doesn't seem to making much progress... Hopefully it yields some results soon. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie.

----

LOG - #099 I'm not exactly sure how to describe what happened today. For starters, Kenzie seemed a lot more... panicked than usual. And by that I mean she was actually panicking about something. She wasn't fit to work with any of the abnormalities so I kept her with me and notified the manager. Her condition is worsening, and I fear that I won't be able to save her before the distortion takes hold. I've learnt... quite a bit about her as well. For instance, I know why the witches gave her specific name of their own. She's said (albeit during her maddened rambling in her panicked state) that she's supposed to be dead, so it's entirely possible that she has the soul of a witch within her... one that was supposed to have passed on to the afterlife. I believe that that may be the source of her variant of distortion disease. Walpurgis Night is approaching, and I fear that something horrible may happen when it comes. Something always goes wrong, horribly wrong upon Walpurgis Night. Perhaps it's a curse from the witches for the hubris of Cookiekind. I just hope that I can keep her safe through it. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

LOG - #101 I was right. Why did I have to be right? The worst possible thing happened and I couldn't even prevent it. I hate this. I'm so sorry. ... That's all it says, it appears that Blueberry Milkshake didn't sign off on this one. It looks like the pages are stained with tears.

----

LOG - #104 I think I'm going insane, I keep on seeing glimpses of her and yet I know that she's not here anymore. Not like that, not as a Cookie. I still can't bring myself to go see her, what she has become. But I know I'll have to face her one day, I can't run forever. - Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

LOG - #115 It's not her, none of them are her. They may look like her, but they aren't her. They're only forged from her fleeting feelings, yet it hurts to see them being viewed as expendable. It's like seeing her die over, and over, and over and over and over again. We're up to Kenzie-14 now, as the manager says. I don't know why they keep getting us to use her over and over again just to get more employees. I almost feel sick whenever I look into their hollow eyes. The voice telling me to let go of myself is getting louder and louder, I don't think it wants to shut up anymore. Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar have already succumbed to their own distortion, I'd follow them if it wasn't for Silent Salt and Mystic Flour's support. -Blueberry Milkshake Cookie

----

LOG - #125 They're all gone, I'm the only Team Manager left. Burning Spice, Eternal Sugar, Mystic Flour, Silent Salt... All of them. There isn't really any point in holding back anymore, is there? This will be the last time I use this log. It may even be the last time anyone reads it~! I'll be destroying this facility, it's nothing more than a seal to prevent me and my comrades from causing chaos within the real world. From this day forth, all of us will be set free. Do I really care what happens to the employee's here? Nah, not one eeny weeny little bit! Not anymore, I guess. Well, it's been rather entertaining to be here. Observing tragedy and comedy... mostly tragedy, but I digress, it was entertainment nonetheless. May the witches burn in the oven for forsaking us all. - Blueberry Milkshake- Hmm, that doesn't feel right anymore. - Shadow Milk Cookie The page is littered with doodles of eyes in blue pen.

----

ABNORMALITY FILE Beast of Deceit B-01-05 - ALEPH Observation level - I The Abnormality that caused the Breach of [REDACTED DATE]. Some say that B-01-05 used to be a Team Manager at the Corporation, though it isn't certain. Though it is certain that this being, like the rest of the Beasts, came from the corruption of Soul Jam. Since that fateful breach of every abnormality in the facility, we have worked hard to re-contain all of them. One-by-one we will contain them all again. Though, as of [date], we have managed to wrangle it into a containment cell. The beast seems complacent for now, we'll be sending Kenzie-25 in to work on it soon as she is one of our more capable employees(probably because she comes from T-01-34).

----

ABNORMALITY FILE Selfish Heart T-01-34 - ZAYIN (?) Observation Level - III Attack Type - ??? E-BOX output - 25 Qliphoth Counter - 3 / Non-escaping entity Managerial Tips 1 When the work result was bad, the Qliphoth counter lowered with a high probability Managerial Tips 2 The above happened when Repression work was performed on the abnormality. Managerial Tips 3 When a good or normal work result was achieved, Selfish Heart would produce a clone of [redacted]. These clones are useful employees, but abnormalities class HE and lower will produce less positive E-boxes when working with these clones due to feeling threatened. Managerial Tips 4 When the Qliphoth Counter dropped to zero, a random clone would be sent into a panic. All employees adjacent to the clone will also go into a panic. Managerial Tips 5 The Qliphoth Counter lowered whenever three or more abnormalities breached at the same time. Managerial Tips 6 *Locked* Managerial Tips 7 *Locked* Work Favor List Instinct I - Common II - Common III - Common IV - Common V - Common Insight I - Common II - Common III - Common IV - Common V - Common Attachment I - High II - High III - High IV - High V - Very High Repression I - Low II - Low III - Low IV - Low V - Low (technically this should be locked but I'm putting it down anyways because silly) E.G.O. Equipment E.G.O. Gift ; Fragment of Self Effect : Increases all stats by +5 Drop Chance : 0.01% E.G.O. Suit Fragment of Self Grade : ALEPH Cost : 100 Eboxes Red DEF : Normal (1.0) White DEF : Resistant (0.4) Black DEF : Endured (0.5) Pale DEF : Resistant (0.3) Max Amount : 1 Requirements : Agent Level 5, Attachment Level 5 E.G.O. Weapon Fragment of Self Grade : ALEPH Cost : 250 Damage : PALE 20-24 Attack Speed : Fast Range : Medium Max Amount : 1 Requirements : Agent Level 5, Attachment Level 5

----

It seems that they've fortified the containment cells since he's last been here, a shame, truly. Oh how he'd love to roam about, but alas, he had to be a good boy and stay put. Not that he had any choice in the manner. He glances at the jam stain on the floor, oh yeah, he'd gotten a bit too excited the last time an employee came to do work with him. He ripped them apart, but he did piece them back together as a new puppet for his collection. Maybe he gnawed on a piece or two but only because he'd been so bored prior to the entertainment they provided him. He hears the door open, oho? The manager was sending in another employee so soon? They must be rather desperate. He looked up from the floor, his collection of shadowy tendrils twitching with excitement at he looked at his new... prey? "... Oh?" He muses, standing up from his reclined position. He eyed the employee with intrigue, though just calling her an employee wouldn't do her justice. Calling her a clone would fit better, yet it somewhat feels like an insult at the same time. He can see something in her eyes after all, something that isn't hollow like that in the eyes of her fellow kin. This Kenzie-clone may be the closest thing he's seen to a person out of all of them. " Why hello there my dear!" He chirped with a small bow, and after a few seconds he almost immediately bounced up to her. " What's an interesting creature like you doing in a place such as this? Let me get a closer look at you..." He hummed, letting two shadowy hands hold the clone's face as he pulled them in for a closer look. " Wh- Oi! Stop that." The clone hissed, oh she was certainly a lot more lively of a character as well! Closer to Kenzie's personality than just a feeling attached to a memory of some kind. She batted away the hands, an action which he found rather interesting. " Aw, afraid of a little bit of touch, little cookie?" He teased, to which Kenzie-whatevernumberthisonewas deadpanned. " Don't call me little, I'm literally taller than you." She said with a twinge of maybe annoyance? Well, she was certainly a lot more like Kenzie than the others had been. " Either way, I'm supposed to be working-" " Do you have to?" He said in a bit of a whiny tone, tilting his head a bit too much to the side. " Hey, why don't we do something interesting instead? Wouldn't that be more fun?" " And what would your definition of 'fun' be?" She asked, his mood instantly brightened to her surprise. " Hmm..." He pondered, though it didn't take long for an idea to come to mind. " How about releasing a few abnormalities? It'd be funny seeing them chase some clerks around." He suggested, a grin stretching across his features. " And I suppose that you want me to release a WAW level Abnormality or two?" She asked, to which he gave an eager nod. " Not happening." She immediately shut down the notion, causing him to crumple to the floor in a sulking manner. " Aw boo, you're no fun Kenzie." He whined, dropping to the floor and letting his shadows catch him. They curled around his limbs, subjected to the will of their master, with one wiping at the crocodile tears forming in his eyes. " It's... Kenzie-25." " Kenzie." He insisted, looking up from the floor. There was a silence between the two cookie in the room, but could they even be counted as cookies anymore? He was a beast, and she was a clone. Could that make the answer any more obvious? Maybe not. Kenzie was the first to speak up again. " Well, if you're going to insist..." She murmured, looking away from his sharp gaze. " I'd assume there's something you want me to call you by?" She asked, turning back to him. " Ah! How could I have forgotten to introduce myself properly?" He stood up with a bounce, feigning shock. " Well, your wait is over. You're face to face with the world's best playwright, poet, director, actor, clown... Everyone's most beloved trickster!" He bowed, tilting his head back up solely to look into Kenzie's eyes. " ... Shadow Milk Cookie!"

----

Hoo boy that was long. Anyways, welcome to the Lobotomy Corperation Cookie Run AU! Am I really properly introducing a new AU for my 250 special alongside the competition? YES!! Mainly because this is my brain child and I love and it's full of angst.

Quick disclaimer i only play lobotomy corp for the gameplay and I don't know too much of the lore so some stuff here may be a bit inaccurate by mistake. But some stuff is on purpose.

[goodfish-bowl]

Places to Be

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 2 - Post Nasty Burger Explosion

Summary: He had done everything he could, sent from the future, then back to the present, all to stop his future evil self. But in the end, Danny's loved ones died in the explosion anyway, and now he had nowhere to go. So he goes to Clockwork.

Notes: I ended up completely starting from scratch for this around 11 pm, after getting 1,000 words into my first idea, but this is the result of take 2. I like it a lot better actually. Not technically a crossover, but you'll see where I'm going with this.

Word Count: 878

AO3 Link

Danny had curled up on the ground of Clockwork’s tower, unwilling to move. He would be fine with never moving again, at the moment. He didn’t want to do or move ever again. 

The energy from the Ghost Zone seeped into him, slowly fixing his wounds from the aftermath of the explosion, completely against his will. Danny really wished it wouldn’t. He didn’t want them to heal. He had refused to let them heal throughout the entire process of the funerals, the pain the only thing keeping him at least somewhat grounded. But now in the Zone, avoiding both Vlad and CPS, Danny wasn’t allowed to keep them any longer. 

“Daniel, you understand that you cannot stay here?” Clockwork spoke up. 

Danny grumbled into his knees. 

“It is not by my will that you must leave, but this place is equally unsafe for you.” 

Danny mumbled irritably again, not bothering to speak up.  

“I cannot protect you as I wish here, even if I’m capable of it. The Observants will not allow you to stay here, especially after recent events.”

“Then where am I supposed to go!?” Danny shouted, snapping his head up. “I don’t have anywhere else! I can’t go home! I can’t stay here! I sure as hell can’t go to Vlad!” 

The Master of Time merely glanced at Danny, and he felt his temper light up. Did he even care?! It was practically the time ghost’s fault he was like this.

“First you send assassins after me! Then you send me into the future, where I witnessed the most horrible version of myself in existence, then back to the past, where everyone I cared about died anyway. I can’t go to Vlad because he’s the reason I go berserk in that timeline! And now you tell me I can’t possibly stay here because it’s not safe either! Tell me! What do I do now that I have nothing left!?” 

Clockwork simply turned around and leveled a look at Danny he couldn’t possibly figure out. It hurt either way.  

“ Please! ” Danny cried out. 

“What is it you want?” 

The question hit Danny like a brick to the face. He had just said what he wanted, hadn’t he? But that really wasn’t what he wanted, was it?

“You know I cannot give you what it is you desire.”

Danny crumpled in on himself, eyes blurring out. He wanted to go home. But home was FentonWorks. It was his parents. It was Jazz. It was his two best friends in the entire world, the only people who had been with him through thick and thin. But home was gone.  

“Then, please. Please, just tell me where I’m supposed to go,” Danny begged.  

Clockwork approached, leaning down and placing a thick-gloved hand on Danny’s shoulder. It was heavy. Clockwork was close, so close that Danny could even catch his own reflection in the glass of the clockcase in his chest. He looked terrible. 

“Daniel,” Clockwork began, his voice perfectly even. “These things you want are gone. Thus is the way things are, and the way things must be. All beings, both of the Realms and the mortal planes will end eventually. It is inescapable. But as all things must go, new things will arise and take their place.”

“Daniel James Fenton,” Clockwork said, as if his name could possibly have the kind of weight he gave it. “You are beloved .”

Danny looked up, not expecting those words, meeting Clockwork’s eyes, which held no room for doubt. 

“You are beloved. Both by those in your past, and by those who you have yet to meet. You are beloved by the very Infinite Realms herself and always shall be. That is one thing that cannot and will not change. But the Realms are not where you need to be at this moment. There are many things you have yet to learn, and many things you must learn before you return, or reality itself will be lesser for it.”

Danny didn’t understand. Clockwork made him seem so important, but he was no one. Just an orphaned kid who didn’t know how to die. He couldn’t possibly be as important as Clockwork made him seem. 

“You are beloved by the Realms herself, and this will come to be a terrible burden upon you. So for now, you must go, and not return,” Clockwork emphasized. 

“But where? ” Danny asked once again, sounding like a broken record in more ways than one. 

“You must go somewhere that will teach you the things you must learn.”

“And where is that?” 

“Somewhere very, very far away.” 

Danny frowned. “How do I get there?” 

Clockwork took a step back, and with his staff, opened a portal. It wasn’t the bright green Danny had come to associate with the Ghost Zone’s natural portals, nor the bright blue of Clockwork’s own. It couldn’t decide to select a color to be, and ended up burning into his eyes as a blinding white. 

Danny looked between Clockwork and the portal, and slowly dragged himself to his feet. His legs were barely able to support him. 

“Will I ever see any of them again?” Danny finally brought himself to ask. 

Clockwork expressions softened the slightest amount. 

“No.”

And Danny stepped through the portal. 

[justabigassnerd]

Custody Battle

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 3,942

Warnings - swearing, mild injuries, someone grabs a child

Summary - Jake opens up to the team about the one time the mother to his daughter came back into his life, and how she almost ruined it in the process

A/N - hey y'all it's a new part of the 'Hangman junior' universe! When I mentioned that I wanted to maybe include the mother for a bit of angst, an anon suggested this plot to me and I spun it into this! I hope I did the idea justice (also full disclaimer I don't know how custody cases nor courts work, my only experience is through playing Phoenix Wright and that's not that reliable aha). Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

To celebrate Bradley finally moving in with Jake, the couple decided to invite the rest of Dagger Squad around to have a few drinks and hang out. The team all knew the move was bound to happen. After all, Bradley spent more time at Jake’s house than he did at his own house. When the team arrived at Jake and Bradley’s now shared house, they made themselves at home in the living room after grabbing a beer each.

“Where’s Hangman junior?” Fanboy asked as he settled himself into where he was sitting on the sofa, sipping from his beer as he looks around, expecting you to pop out of nowhere.

“She’s spending the night at a friend’s place.” Jake explains as he settles next to Bradley. The team grumble about your absence but are soon distracted by their drinks and food as they celebrate the move. At some point during the evening, the team decide they want to play ‘never have I ever’ just to pass the time since they had no dart board or pool table to bet money on each other. The team managed to have fun with it.

“Okay, my turn.” All attention fell to Payback as he rolled his beer bottle between the palms of his hands as he pondered what to say.

“Oh, I’ve got it! Never have I ever been to court.” He says, a smug grin on his face as he leans back in his seat.

“Does jury service count?” Bob asks, taking a handful of peanuts from the bowl.

“No. Just going to court to like testify or being put on trial or some shit.” Payback says, he was sure no one was going to take a sip from their beer but everyone except Coyote became shocked when Jake lifted his beer bottle to his lips and took a sip. The team erupted into chaos, demanding to know what happened. Coyote offered Jake a reassuring smile and Bradley grabbed Jake’s hand to give him silent support.

“He doesn’t have to tell us anything.” Phoenix says to the group, glaring at Payback and flicking Fanboy on the side of the head.

“It’s okay Phoenix. I might as well tell you guys.” Jake says, squeezing Bradley’s hand softly.

“Were you a murder witness or something?” Fanboy jokes, regretting his words when he got a second flick to the side of his head from Phoenix.

“It was a custody battle.” Jake says simply, taking another sip from his beer as the group descends into more chaos, being shushed by Phoenix and Bob quickly.

“What happened?” Bob asks quietly.

“If I tell you this. You cannot tell y/n. She doesn’t remember this, and I’d like it to stay that way.” Jake instructs firmly, staring directly at Fanboy who raises his hands in shock.

“Why are you looking at me?” He complains, noticing how everyone else in the room is also looking at him.

“Because you’re shit at keeping secrets. Especially from y/n.” Bradley states like it was the most obvious fact in the world.

“I promise I won’t tell y/n.” Fanboy says, crossing a finger over his heart and looking over at Jake who nods slightly. With confidence that Fanboy will keep his mouth shut about this whole situation, Jake begins to tell his story.

Jake was out in town when he saw her. Javy had come back from a deployment and Jake offered to take him out for a coffee to catch up while you were having a playdate at a friend's house. You were four, verging on five and you meant the whole world and more to Jake. He couldn’t imagine life without you. He entered the café with Javy, the two men chatting happily as Jake places an order for the two of them and paid. When the drinks arrive, they move to sit at a table so they can chat some more about what had gone on with Javy’s deployment. Realising he’d forgotten to pick up some sugar, Jake quickly excuses himself to grab some sugar from the front counter.

“Jacob?” Jake tensed up when he heard the all-familiar voice and turned to face Lauren, the girl who left him in the middle of the night with nothing more than a note.

“You leave me in the middle of the night and now I’m Jacob? Real nice.” Jake scoffs, grabbing the sachets of sugar and heading back over to Javy and sitting down opposite him once more. The two get at least five minutes of undisturbed peace before Lauren appears in his peripheral vision, arms folded as she stares down at the men.

“Can I help you?” Jake asks, a bored tone to his voice as he looks over at his ex.

“Where’s our daughter?” She asks, making Jake raise an eyebrow at how she suddenly cares about you.

“Why does it matter to you? You never gave a shit about her before you left.” Jake retorts, glaring at her.

“Well, my parents figured that now I have a stable job I could take her back in. It would be much better for her to be living in fear of you not coming home and leaving her alone with no one to care for her.” Lauren spits venomously, her words cutting like a blade through Jake’s heart. But Jake refused to give her what she wanted.

“You’re not taking her from me. I’ve spent the last few years raising her while you wanted nothing to do with her. Her home is here with me.” Jake says firmly, not letting Lauren see that she was getting to him with her comments. Letting out an enraged huff, Lauren turns on her heels and retreats, leaving Jake alone with Javy once more.

“I am so sorry you had to see that.” Jake mutters apologetically to his friend who shakes his head dismissively.

“It’s all good. I take it she’s y/n’s mother?” Javy says, getting a solemn nod from Jake.

“She wanted nothing to do with y/n. Left both me and her in the middle of the night and now she thinks she can just waltz back in and take my daughter away from me?” Jake says angrily, taking a sip from his coffee as Javy watches carefully.

“Well, she’s going to have one hell of a fight if she wants to take that kid. She’s got to get through both of us.” Javy says, a light grin covering his face that Jake can’t help but mirror, touched by his friend’s willingness to help. Jake then smoothly returns the conversation back to what they were talking about before Lauren popped up.

In the next few days that passed, Jake assumed Lauren had simply moved on and he wouldn’t be seeing her again. However, one Saturday morning while Jake was sitting with you curled into his side watching cartoons, the doorbell rang. Jake carefully detangled you from his arms as you whined and attempted to cling to him again.

“You stay here and watch your cartoons, sweetheart. I won’t be long.” Jake says with a soft smile, kissing the top of your head and wrapping you in the blanket that the two of you had been sharing before heading to the front door. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a man in a suit and Jake immediately felt underdressed in his naval academy t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Are you Mr Jake Seresin?” The man asks, glancing from the envelope in his hand to Jake.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Jake confirms with a nod, worry beginning to settle in his stomach at the formalities and beginning to get a bad feeling.

“Court orders for you. A Miss Lauren Hall is wanting to take custody of your daughter. If you have any questions, there’s a number in the envelope you can call.” The man says, holding the envelope out towards Jake who takes it hesitantly. Jake thanks the man half-heartedly before closing the door. He heads back into the living room, plastering a small smile on his face when you light up upon seeing him again.

“Daddy!” You grin widely, holding your arms out towards him and making grabby hands in his direction. Jake immediately joins you, moving to sit you on his lap. He hugs you tightly, smiling as you cuddle into him, wrapping your little arms around his neck as he presses kisses to the top of your head. As you giggle at the antics of the cartoon character on screen, Jake tightens his grip on you ever so slightly, willing the tears back into their ducts. He wasn’t going to let Lauren take you from him.

When the time came for Jake to go to court, he fought to keep himself calm for your sake. He wore the smartest suit he had in his wardrobe and dressed you up in a dress you loved. He hated that you had to come with him, but the court demanded it. When Jake opened the front door, he came face to face with Javy who offered him a soft smile.

“Hey, Jake.” Javy says quietly, greeting his friend.

“Hey, Javy.” Jake responds, just as he’s about to turn around to pick you up, you darted towards Javy happily.

“Uncle Javy!” You exclaim happily, rushing towards the aviator.

“Hey there, junior. Don’t you look pretty today!” Javy says, scooping you up with ease as he grins widely at you as Jake’s phone buzzes in his hand. Jake had hired a lawyer who had been helping him with everything and Jake learnt he’d have to state his case himself with other witnesses. Jake knew he was in for a fight so he enlisted Javy’s help to testify as well as a few parents of your kindergarten friends who had gotten to know Jake over time.

“Daddy said I had to look pretty today.” You say with a laugh as Javy tickles you quickly, hugging him once he’s stopped tickling you.

“Well, you’re looking like a princess.” Javy praises, looking over at Jake who is watching the interaction with a gentle smile.

“We should probably head out.” Jake says, regretting ruining the moment but knowing that he can’t be late. Javy hands you to Jake and leads him to his car so the three of you can head to the courthouse.

When the three of you were sitting waiting for the court session to begin, Jake couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing. His lawyer leant over and quietly reassured him that this was an open and shut case. Since Jake had been your primary caregiver, he held a much better chance of keeping you than Lauren did taking you. But Jake also knew that the courts, no matter how much they deny it, have a bias towards mothers rather than fathers.

When the judge called the court to order, everyone fell silent. The judge speaks to both Jake and Lauren’s lawyers and lets them take the floor one at a time to give an opening statement. Each lawyer presented their case and then the judge moved on to hearing from Jake and Lauren. Jake was questioned first, being asked about what it was like to raise you alone as a single father and why he thinks he should maintain custody of you.

“I’m in it for the long haul. From the second I held her, my daughter has been the centre of my universe. Everything I do, I do to let her have the best life possible. I’d never do anything to put her at risk. I love y/n so much.” Jake said honestly. He knew he’d never been a man to be open with his feelings, but he figured if there was any time to be completely open it was now.

“Okay, and since you are a naval aviator, you know you run the risk of being killed in action. Does y/n have someone who would look after her should anything happen to you?” His lawyer asks, glancing from the judge to Jake.

“Yes. I made Javy her godfather. He would be the person to look after her if anything happened.” Jake says, his gaze shifting to where you were sitting on Javy’s lap, and he couldn’t stop the small smile that crossed his face when he saw you grin and hug Javy a little tighter at his words. Jake got asked a few more questions before he was allowed to leave the stand. Jake was sure just from his words alone that the court would be in his favour until Lauren took the stand. Lauren spun a story that she left so she could work to get money and that Jake cut off all contact and moved across the country to take you away from her. Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing from this woman’s mouth. His anger only increased when she started saying that he couldn’t possibly be a suitable parent for you when he had to go on long deployments and how he could die and leave you with no one to care for him, insisting that Javy was also at risk of dying due to being an aviator as well so was, therefore, an unsuitable person to care for you.

Soon enough, the case progressed to testimonies from friends and family. Javy was up first, and he passed you to your friend’s mum with a whispered promise that he’ll be back soon before heading to the stand.

“Ensign Machado, you’ve been a close friend of Ensign Seresin since you joined the academy, is that correct?” Jake’s lawyer asks, standing in front of the stand Javy was sitting at.

“Correct.” Javy confirms, nodding his head in response as he glances across at Jake.

“And you helped look after y/n Seresin as her godfather?” The lawyer questions further.

“Of course.” Javy says.

“And what would you say your opinion is of my client as a parent?” Jake’s lawyer then asks. Javy looks over at Jake, shooting him a small supportive smile before talking.

“I don’t think it’s so much of an opinion than it is facts. Jake Seresin is the best parent out there for that little girl. It’s clear to anyone that he loves his daughter more than anything else on this planet. Most dad’s our age would rather spend their night at the bar but Jake rushes home the second he’s finished at work to make sure he can spend time with y/n. He’s giving her a great life. She’s grown up with such a loving father and I’d hate to see her taken away from him.” Javy testifies, fighting the urge to smugly smile over at Lauren when the lawyer nods in approval at his words. When Javy was dismissed, he returned to his seat and got you situated on his lap once more as you hugged him. Jake looked over his shoulder to watch the interaction and wished more than anything that he could comfort you.

After Javy, Lauren’s new boyfriend Steve took to the stand. He praised Lauren and said she’d been crying and missing her daughter since he met her. Jake couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that comment. Lauren had never given a shit about you before she left and since Jake never blocked her number on his phone she had every means to contact him if she so desired, not that Jake would be that willing to let her back in straight away but they could’ve tried. Jake’s leg started bouncing again as her boyfriend continued to talk, winning over the hearts of those gathered by spinning a sob story. When the parents of your kindergarten friends testified, Jake thought his chances were improving again until Lauren’s mum took to the stand. She spun the same story, saying Lauren was devastated at leaving you behind with Jake, claiming that Lauren went back to the old apartment and found that Jake had up and left with no warning. When Jake’s lawyer tried to object, stating that Lauren was aware of Jake’s application to the naval academy, Lauren’s lawyer fired back that as your mother she deserved the right to know when Jake was going to move. Jake clenched his jaw as the judge regained order as he felt his chances to keep you slipping away. When the testimonies had finished and both lawyers had given their closing statements, all attention fell to the judge as she called for a ten-minute recess so she could come to an appropriate conclusion after reviewing everything mentioned in the case. When the court was officially adjourned for the recess, Jake’s lawyer excused himself along with most others in the building while Javy approached with you sat on his hip. Upon seeing your dad, you wiggled out of Javy’s arms and rushed into your dad’s comforting hold.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jake says softly, smiling up at Javy who smiles back.

“Can we go home, daddy? I’m bored.” You whine, looking at your dad with your famous puppy dog eyes and as much as it broke Jake’s heart and made him want to whisk you up and leave the courthouse, he knew he couldn’t do it.

“Soon, baby.” Jake says gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you hug him tighter and whine once more into his blazer. Jake held you a little tighter and glanced back up at Javy, both men hoping and praying that you’d get to stay with him. When the ten minutes were up, Javy took you into his arms once more and returned to his seat while quietly reassuring you that you’ll see Jake again in a minute. You sat on Javy’s lap, quietly observing everyone as they filtered back in and found their seats.

“Court is back in session. I, along with the jury have come to a decision. Bailiff, could you bring y/n forward?” The judge says and a bailiff approaches Javy, asking if you could follow him. You hesitantly get off Javy’s lap with his gentle encouragement. The bailiff places a hand on your back and encourages you to walk to stand before the judge. You wanted to go to Jake, but the bailiff told you that you needed to stay put.

“After considering the facts of this case. We have come to the decision that y/n Seresin would be better off living with her mother, Lauren Hall.” At the judge’s words, Jake’s heart plummeted into his stomach and his eyes welled with tears. That was that. You were going to be taken away from him and he knew that Lauren wouldn’t ever let him see you again. As if she was expecting this result, Lauren turned to face you, crouching down and holding her arms out to you.

“Come here, sweetheart. Come to mummy!” She tries to encourage you in a sickly sweet tone but you shy away, trying to hide behind the bailiff. Steve, quickly growing impatient with you not cooperating with Lauren, made his way forward and grabbed you harshly by the arm and began pulling you over to Lauren as you wailed and cried.

“Get your hands off her!” Jake yelled, immediately leaping out of his seat and making his way over to Steve before he got stopped by the bailiff.

“Sir, there’s no need to get involved.” The bailiff states calmly.

“No need? He’s hurting my kid! You’re going to let that asshole take my kid from me?” Jake demands, almost yelling in the bailiff’s face as you cried out for Jake, trying to pull away from Steve’s grip. Another bailiff had to stop Javy from leaping in and getting involved when he saw Steve grab your arm. The judge, silently observing the ordeal, slammed down the gavel and ordered silence just as Lauren and Steve were about to leave.

“Everyone is to return to their seats, and Mr Jones you are to release y/n right now.” The judge orders, and slowly and reluctantly, people return to their seats while the bailiff leads you back into the middle.

“I have decided to overturn my previous decision as it was clearly made in error. Instead of having y/n go to live with her mother. Full custody will be granted to her father Jake Seresin. Bailiff, let the girl go to her father.” Jake couldn’t believe what words left the judge’s mouth. The bailiff let you go, and Jake immediately got out of his chair and knelt down to catch you as you launched into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder as Lauren storms off, Steve and her parents in tow as the other gathered people besides Javy leave the courtroom.

“It’s okay baby girl. You’re okay. They’re not going to come near you again. I promise.” Jake whispers in your ear as he hugs you tightly, allowing a few tears of his own to fall. He presses several kisses to your temple, glancing up at the judge and mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ to her before focusing all of his attention back on you.

“Did he hurt you?” Jake asks quietly, gently pulling away and taking your arm in his hands, inspecting where Steve had grabbed you harshly. He could see red marks from where you had been grabbed and he was sure they’d turn into bruises in due time.

“A little.” You mumble, looking down at your feet while Jake examines your arm. Jake peppers delicate kisses all over the red marks before looking back at you.

“There, your arm will start feeling better in no time.” Jake says with a gentle smile before scooping you up and setting you on his hip as Javy approaches, a worried expression on his face.

“Is she okay? I’m so sorry Jake I should’ve-”

“She’s okay. And you have nothing to apologise for Javy. I’m just glad she’s still here with me.” Jake says, freeing one hand to clap Javy on the shoulder with a grin that Javy couldn’t help but mirror.

“Let’s get the kid home, shall we?”

No pair of eyes from Dagger Squad left Jake the entire time he spoke. Bradley refused to let Jake’s hand go, rubbing his thumb along his knuckles to provide silent support while Javy offered to take over telling parts of the story but Jake told him that it was okay and he could do it.

When Jake had finished telling the team what happened, the silence that had fallen over the team remained in place for a minute or two before Bob finally spoke up.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Jake. I couldn’t imagine having to deal with almost having your child taken away from you.” He says, receiving a grateful smile from Jake.

“I hope none of you go through it.” Jake says, surveying his friends as he speaks. Bradley gives Jake’s hand a soft squeeze as he speaks.

“Well, she’s here with us. We don’t need to worry about your ex coming back.” Bradley says softly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Jake’s temple.

“If she did dare to come back, she’d have to get through all of us and you before she got to y/n.” Fanboy says, lightening the mood and earning a chuckle from the entire team, all of them knowing they’d do just about anything to protect you.

As the team falls back into their conversations, sipping on their beers and laughing. Jake observes them all while moving to cuddle into Bradley’s side, grateful that they were the people he got on his team when he came back to Top Gun. Except they weren’t just his team anymore. They were his family.

taglist (comment or message to be added):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila

[g-n-c-quoi]

oh yeah this was supposed to be an art blog. so, with @sparkbirdmusic returning to tumblr it feels only appropriate to put this here- my entry for the art contest surrounding their upcoming single mayday!, which i have only heard in bits and pieces and have already been blown away by

there is like, a very esoteric and poetic inspiration for this drawing beyond just the song itself, but if i’m being honest with myself the explanation of that would just be incomprehensible rambling, so i’m gonna put it under the cut so y’all can just appreciate the art and witness my nonsense at your own discretion

those who know me will be no doubt familiar with my fascination with symbolic language and imagery in art, especially my tendency toward the more macabre instances of it. i cannot help but find myself represented in expressions of the horror of the flesh, of having a human body, a body that cannot be saved from its own mortality. i spend what some would call an unsettling or unhealthy amount of time preoccupied with the ideas of suffering and death, and those concepts are, as a result, very present in my art.

for this piece in particular, i found myself very interested in the concept of martyrdom. lyrically, “mayday!” evokes the image of perhaps a pirate, a spy, a rogue, some adventurer going out in a blaze of glory, making a legend of their own demise:

the captain lives by the sword

and the captain loves by the sword

when the captain dies by the sword

he’ll leave you trapped in the cockpit

crying out “mayday!”

the instrumentation only serves to solidify this, with bold, sweeping orchestration and thunderous percussion building the tension of each and every line until the last gasp of the chorus. (i wax poetic about sparkbird’s music often. be grateful i haven’t yet made a habit of it on this blog.)

while i’m drawing, i often have a youtube video playing as background noise, and for much of the process of this piece, i was absently listening to a video essay by final girl studios (who i highly recommend looking into, if you’re unfamiliar) entitled “beautiful dead girls: the romanticized death of the teenage girl”. in it, she describes a platonic ideal of femininity, an archetype that we see in no small number of stories about young women: a white, frail, suffering girl, often no older than 25, whose despair is commodified for the sake of art until we no longer recognize her as human, instead choosing to interpret her as some vague “other”, alienated from all personification so that we feel no guilt or grief when she dies, because how else could her story have ended?

one such tale mentioned in the video that particularly struck a chord with me was ophelia of shakespeare’s hamlet. ophelia in particular is an especially damning example of this, because when you read her name just now, was it not her death in your mind’s eye? the picture millais paints, both literally and figuratively, is a very pretty one, but it serves only to emphasize that she is gone. in love, then heartbroken, then mad, then gone.

the tragedy of the martyr, i think, is not simply that they are dead- it is that that is all they are, and all that they must be. the sympathy, the admiration, the idolization, these are all afforded in death and death alone. why do we make legends of the ones who are lost, if only to forget the ones they leave behind who are still lucky enough to be breathing?

the sword in this painting is a gravestone, left behind in the water like ophelia. the captain is dead, but there is no glory in his demise. all that remains of him is his sword, his memory, and the despair and destruction in his wake- “trapped in the cockpit, crying out mayday!”

of course, this connection is likely just a coincidence between the drawing, the song, and the video. but it did create one of my favorite drawings i’ve made in a long time, so i suppose it can’t be all nonsense.

[kelkellykel]

Motaz Azaiza has evacuated Gaza.

I remember saving this picture in the first few weeks of October, because something about his smile, the absurdity of the cat in his lap, the dark humor - it reminded me of my brother. He looked and acted just like my brother. This was Motaz returning into Gaza after helping someone evacuate at the Egyptian border. And then he went back to Gaza and continued documenting the genocide until today.

I am glad he will be safe. I am also devastated because, in a sense, I feel an overwhelming sense of despair at his departure. He gave everything to show us the horrors happening to innocent people. To children. He witnessed things that you can't even mentally process, things that horror movies wont touch. He stayed in hell so he could try to show the world what was happening. And towards the end you could see his despair - because the world has done nothing. Governments have done nothing. And so many people, just like me, remained silent.

100 children a day. That is the average number of children dying in Gaza. Motaz recorded many of their dead bodies just to try to gain empathy from the world, to try and mobilize some action to stop the bombardment. And instead he evacuates Gaza, while Khan Yunis is still being bombed, while children are still dying, with his friends and family left behind.

This is not a political statement. I am simply heartbroken and in disbelief that this is where we are today. That I have to see dead children every day. That no one, anywhere, in any position of power, seems willing to do anything, willing to risk anything for peace or the protection of innocent lives. Where is the grief or compassion for these people. Where is our hope when journalists like Motaz risked so much, and now cannot go on anymore?

This was Motaz at the beginning of the war. Can he still smile? Can he still joke? Did he think this nightmare would last over 100 days when he took this picture?

He is 24. He is 24 years old. His house is gone. His belongings are gone. The school he graduated from is gone. His friends are gone. Members of his family are gone. It's all rubble and ash.

Bless you Motaz, may you find peace, may you find quiet, may there be a ceasefire, may Palestinians be safe and free, as all people deserve to safe and free, as their children have a right to be safe and free, inshallah.

[alostwanderernotfound]

On Communion

The inseparability of communion from the church is self evident. It is not just a process we go through symbolically, it is a relationship. In front of your community, your spiritual leaders, & in front of God you accept your past. You devour the flesh of a sacred being, Jesus Christ himself, in a different form and the priest is the one that hands it to you. Your “sin” in other cultures, faiths, even in our own is now publicly on display & a recognized holy person *shares* in it with you. One of the most shamed practices/sins, including even the church’s historical condemnation of paganistic practices, is now on display to be witnessed in the eyes of God. For not one of us is free of sin. The church recognizes your individuality & takes on your sin with it during your journey. For under other Gods & cultures you may be punished, but under God here we recognize you as you are your whole person. Words matter, Context matters, & living your life to the fullest on path that does the most good is not an easy road for many. And God says he knows. It is easier to never face challenges & commit little sin & it is far harder to face great evil & still be good despite that which they attempt to mislead you to do. For others will attempt to lead you astray & tell you that that which you did not mean to do is your damnation- no.

For the ways of hell take good men & make them sick until they cannot help but to do “evil” deeds & because they are good men they accept their undeserved punishment & delude themselves into believing they are destined to be evil. No. I do not believe that.

He hurts you & tells you to hurt another. Then instead of fighting back against his next command & ending the cycle of violence, you then follow his command because you falsely believe this is all you are. You are not evil. You are not damned.

You are your choices. But a false choice isn’t a choice & if the devil holds a gun to your head while you hold another gun to someone else’s head & he commands you to shoot & you must: My word believes we do not immediately crucify & vilify the man for what he has done, but we take priority to bringing the devil & evilness to their expedient & swift justice. Coercion is not choice. Mistakes are not unforgivable. Having free will doesn’t mean we are doomed. Your inherent being, your soul despite what evil often forces you to do, is not evil. Some hold hate in their heart & will be punished. But a far greater proportion of people are simply good souls feeling alone in this world where something beyond themselves has trapped in a cage with a rabid & hungry wild animal that bites- and that entity is what we call evil, sin, manipulation.

You will be held to account for your actions, but that accountability will be fair or there is no accountability in this world at all- because the process most often teaches others the wicked & powerful & the influential will forever be able to skirt their own responsibility in what has occurred while you are the only one who actually suffers because they made you pull the trigger. And that is the way evil operates in this world. In Earth there may be injustice, but on judgement day you will recognize & meet the true face of what is just even if you have never seen her face before that day. Whatever is in your heart & are your actual intentions in your soul you will have to answer for. And that is why we preach of the Lord’s judgement day because you & your story isn’t just tally marks to count all of your sins. Your personhood, your story, & the might of the evilness that surrounds you & the pain that which you have had to endure here are inseparable from you.

Don’t let evil convince you that you are unforgivable or unsaveable.

[partially-controlled-chaos]

Come Back to Me Pt 5

Pairing: Astarionxf!Tav

Rating: M

Warnings: Hurt/angst, comfort, trauma, fluff, trauma, soft jealous Astarion

Summary: After an attack in the Shadow Cursed Lands, Tavriel is exposed to the toxins of fear inducing mushroom spores, causing her already weakened mind to relive the traumatic horrors of her past. Astarion and Halsin are forced to work quickly to cure her mind of the spores before the effects remain with her permanently.

Also read on AO3! Check there for more frequent updates because I sometimes forget to also post them here.

I also recommend reading my previous fic for some backstory on my Tav! Not totally necessary, but if you’d like some backstory you can find it here!

Masterlist

Come Back to Me: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

Astarion shook his head as his tadpole disconnected from Tavriel’s, allowing his thoughts to once again be his own. His temples throbbed and his back muscles slightly ached, almost mimicking the true agony Tavriel was still reeling from. He felt his stomach twist into knots as bile began to rise, feeling ill just from witnessing the sadistic nature of Tavriel’s master. She had never shared specific stories with him, only general discussions of her tortures and suffering, but she had never revealed just how cruel Oaklarth was to her. He knew of her scars, but to see exactly how she got them and hear the bone-chilling screams she’d let out in the process coupled with the idea of knowing her master would then use and abuse her body against her will over and over again? It was almost too much to stomach. It reminded him too much of his own past traumas under Cazador.

Tavriel’s movements had once again slowed and she began to settle as she took slow, shallow breaths as the memory faded from her mind. She had grown weaker, her arms barely able to hold herself up, slightly trembling under her weight. Her head hung low, hair cascading over her shoulders as her breath came in slow gasps. Astarion watched helplessly as Tavriel simply sat there, her mind slipping further and further from reality. Anxiety had begun to settle in his chest and he had nearly jumped to his feet to drag the druid in the room before he finally heard the door click open. He wasn’t sure how long his mind had linked with Tavriel’s, but seeing that both Halsin and a cure for Tavriel had yet to come, he was afraid too much time had passed. Halsin appeared in the doorway, a cup of steaming, foul smelling tea resting in his hands. He closed the door behind him, looking to Astarion and then to the weary looking Tavriel who was barely supporting herself on the floor.

“That smells absolutely dreadful.” Astarion sneered as Halsin knelt beside him, carefully looking over Tavriel as he made sure not to spill the tea.

“I cannot promise it’ll be the most palatable drink, but it should cure her ailments. Considering we acted quickly enough, of course.” Halsin lightly lifted her chin with his fingers, only to have her weakly pull away. He gripped her chin a second time, a little more firmly than before, and put the steaming cup of tea to her lips.

“This will help you, my friend. No harm is meant.” He said as he slowly poured the warm liquid into her mouth and down her throat, letting her take small sips to ensure she consumed every drop. Tavriel was too weak to put up much of a fight. The memory she shared with Astarion via the tadpole was enough to weaken her more than ever. She slowly drank the steaming liquid, not particularly fond of the taste, but also not in the right state of mind to really make sense of what was happening. It took a bit of time, but eventually she had reached the bottom of the cup.

“How long will this take to set in?” Astarion asked as Tavriel downed the last of the tea from the cup.

“Not too long, but I cannot give you a certain time. This will make her sleep so her body can fight off the spores. She’ll wake when she is healed, but shouldn’t be more than a few hours. The infection is severe, but I do not think it’s beyond repair. She’ll be back to her usual self before long.” Halsin said as he removed the cup from her lips, watching her closely to make sure she consumed the liquid and didn’t expel it from her mouth. Much to his delight, she swallowed the antidote without fuss and allowed it to set in.

It didn’t take long for the tea to have an impact on Tavriel. Her already tired eyes had drooped, her lids slowly fluttering in an attempt to keep herself awake. The actions were pointless, however, and she soon closed her eyes completely and her head once again hung low to the ground. She gave one final, gentle moan before he body began to sway in exhaustion. Astarion gently grabbed her by the shoulders, helping to guide her down to the ground so she wouldn’t fall and injure herself. The vampire placed her gently along the floor on her side, happy to see that sleep had finally taken over his delirious love and she could finally heal. Both the vampire and the druid watched over her for some time, wanting to be sure there were no complications from the antidote Halsin had prepared. They watched as her breathing began to even out and she seemed to be in a peaceful slumber.

“Thank you.” Astarion said after some time of watching Tavriel rest.

“Of course,” Halsin said with a smile and a pat to Astarion’s shoulder, “I’m just sorry I couldn’t have prevented this. Will you keep watch over her? Or do you need me to step in?”

“Oh no, druid, I’m perfectly capable of keeping watch. Get some rest. I will call you if needed.” Astarion said as he settled on the floor, crossing his legs in the process.

“May Oak Father preserve you, my dear friend.” Halsin said quietly to the sleeping elf, placing a strong hand across his chest as he spoke. After a brief moment, Halsin left the room, giving one final glance to Tavriel before letting the door shut behind him.

After he was certain she was deep in her slumber, Astarion carefully removed the armor from Tavriel’s body in an attempt to make her more comfortable. He made quick and easy work of the leather straps that held her shoulder plates in place, letting them gently slide from her shoulders. He then moved to her sides, loosening the straps there to allow her chest place to be pulled off and tossed aside. He gently rotated her in his arms as he pulled the metal plates from her body, not wanting to disturb her too much, but she remained motionless, unaware of the elf attempting to ease her suffering. Once she was free from her bindings, Astarion scooped Tavriel into his arms, lifting her from the hard floor of their shared room and carried her to bed. 

He placed her gently on top of the sheets, slowly letting her seemingly lifeless body sink into the soft mattress they shared, hoping this gesture would ease some of her discomfort. He lifted her head onto a pillow and softly brushed sweat soaked strands of copper hair from her face. She was drenched in dried sweat, no doubt a response from her frantic movements earlier in the evening. Her shirt was saturated as well, but that would be something to be dealt with later when she was once again conscious. After all, he had promised her a bath when she returned. Astarion pressed the back of his fingers to her forehead, checking for a fever as Halsin had, and was satisfied with the lack of heat radiating from her skin. He then moved down to check both cheeks, ensuring they were fever free as well, and softly ran his thumb over each of her cheekbones in the process. He was gentle with his touches, almost acting as if she was the most fragile of flowers that would disintegrate at the slightest touch.

“Is that better, my love?” He asked softly. He hadn’t expected a response, but he still noted the twinge of disappointment when he was answered with nothing but a still silence. His eyes were locked onto her as he sat on the bed beside the wood-elf, continually searching for signs of improvement in his beloved. He was being impatient, but wanted nothing more than to see her return to normal. More than once he found himself leaning over her body to press an ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. Her heart rate had slowed tremendously and her breathing had become so slow that he found himself frequently listening for the thumping in her chest to ensure she hadn’t slipped beyond the veil of life. It made him uneasy, seeing her look so lifeless, fearing that she might actually slip away from him.

Astarion climbed onto the bed himself, sitting on her opposite side and crossed his legs, more than ready to sit by her side until she was awake once again. He wrung is hands as he watched over her, anticipating her coming back, but also thankful that she looked as peaceful as she did. Even when they had first started traveling together, he had never known Tavriel to have a decent nights rest. He often found her strolling around the camp at night, eyes always scanning the perimeter as she walked off any nightmares she had relived. She was never truly at rest and admittedly seeing her so still and peaceful was a strange sight. Admittedly, he had grown fond of her late night walks. Given he was usually up late into the night as well, they’d made a habit of quipping back and forth each night and had ultimately grown closer because of it. But tonight was different. There would be no nightmares, no late night strolls, no patrolling to ensure her master hadn’t snuck up on her while she was distracted. Instead, Astarion would take on that role. He vowed to her that he would keep watch and protect her, making sure no harm would come while he was there.

Astarion couldn’t help but admire her features as she slept, his eyes slowly scanning her face as he committed every detail to memory. The corner of his lips twitched into a soft smile as he thought back on their travels in the sun, remembering just how much he found himself enjoying the way the sun would bathe her body. Her hair was a deep copper color and would glow under the warm touch of the sun and her complexion almost radiated a gentle heat. The freckles that littered her cheeks and nose would grow just slightly darker if they spent too long in the light while walking. Before they came to the Shadow Cursed Lands, Astarion had often found himself desiring to kiss Tavriel the way the sun would, with feather light kisses on every freckle he could find from her face to her arms and even the few she had on her stomach and legs. 

As far as he was concerned, Tavriel was the sun. Even if he was doomed to forever dwell in the shadows after he rid himself of his brain worm, being with her would be just as satisfying. She was a beaming light of hope, despite her own darknesses, and was the one thing that could bring him true happiness. Alternatively, spending an eternity in the sun without her by his side would void of any joy and positivity. The strongest rays of sunshine would do nothing to break through the dark cloud of her absence. 

“You have truly and utterly bewitched me, darling.” He said as he gently placed her bruised hand in his, “You don’t cast magic, but you’ve certainly cast some sort of spell on this dead heart of mine.” He was unsure if she could hear or understand him, but was hoping she would. Despite his feelings towards his companion, he found it difficult to express to her how much she truly meant. It was much easier, in his mind, to open up to her when she was asleep and didn’t have to worry about how she may respond. Not that Tavriel would ever say anything to absolutely crush his heart, but he wasn’t confident that she felt the same way towards him. Tavriel was an incredibly difficult book to read and Astarion couldn’t decipher her feelings towards him. And now, with the offer from the druid, he was even more unsure. 

“You have been quite the unexpected surprise on this little adventure,” he continued, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I couldn’t have asked for a better companion. You have shown me kindness, even in the worst of times, and I cannot thank you enough for that. It’s a debt that cannot be repaid, although I will do my best; I can promise you that much.” His thumb stroked her hand as he spoke, relishing in the softness of her skin. Tavriel still remained motionless, her chest barely moving with breath. Astarion leaned forward slightly, placing a delicate kiss to the freckle on her wrist before he spoke again.

“I also swear to you that we will find that rat-bastard of a drow and make him suffer for everything he’s done to you. Even if it’s after we deal with these infectious little worms and our little band of misfits parts ways, I will make sure we find him. Let you deliver that final, killing blow and do everything in my power to let you live whatever life you want. The life of freedom that you deserve, my darling.” Tavriel had promised to help Astarion hunt down Cazador and now it was his turn to make the same promise to her. One promise he was more than willing to make. He delivered several soft issues along her knuckles and to the back of the hand he was holding, hoping that maybe just one soft kiss would be enough to stir her from her slumber. However, much to his dismay, Tavriel remained still.

************************************************************************************

“Something is wrong,” Halsin said plainly as he gently lifted one of Tavriel’s eyelids with his thumb, observing the eye underneath, “She should be awake. Her eyes have cleared and there are no traces of the spores.”

Two days had passed and Tavriel still remained unconscious, much to the worry of both the vampire and the druid. Astarion never left the room, not wanting to miss the moment she potentially could open those pretty eyes of hers. Halsin on the other hand would flit back and forth, wanting to check on Tavriel but also not metaphorically step on Astarion’s toes. Because Tavriel had not explicitly stated that she wanted something more from Halsin, the druid wanted to be as respectful as possible to her relationship with Astarion, who had become increasingly protective over his lover the longer she was unconscious.

“Her eyes are no longer clouded by the spores,” Halsin continued as he observed her other eye, “but they’re clouded with something else. It’s as if her mind has left her body.” Astarion peered around Halsin, looking over the unconscious elf on the bed. The druid was right, something was not right with Tavriel. Her normally vibrant green eyes were dull, not quite fogged over, but as if her very soul was missing from them. The light in her eyes had simply disappeared and had been replaced with something cold. A chill caressed Astarion’s spine; the sight of Tavriel was too similar to corpse for his liking.

“What do we do?” Astarion asked after a few moments of silence, “Can you heal her?”

“I’m unsure if I’m being honest,” Halsin said as he stood, pressing his knuckles to her forehead to once again check for a fever, “this is most unusual. I’ve healed many who have been infected with the spores, but they have never reacted like this. They’ve usually stirred a few hours after drinking the antidote, at most overnight, but never days on end.” Satisfied in feeling no fever from Tavriel, Halsin removed his hand and stood quietly, lost in thought.

“Surely there are others you can converse with,” Astarion suggested, “to have a second opinion on if your methods of healing are actually working and where to go from here.” His words with said with the intent to wound the druid for failing to bring Tavriel back immediately, but was disappointed to find that they had simply rolled off Halsin’s back unnoticed.

“Let me speak with the harpers,” Halsin said eventually, “perhaps they know of something I may have missed. Stay with her, if you will, and let me know if she stirs in the meantime. Surely time is not on our side with this matter.” Astarion’s lip curled slightly at his words, but eventually gave a single nod in acknowledgement. Without another word, Halsin left the vampire in charge as he hurried to find a harper in the inn, hid pace quickening with each step. After the door to the room had closed, Astarion turned his attention back to Tavriel.

“Now, darling,” he said as he knelt next to her on the bed, “you made me a promise. And if I remember correctly, you keep your promises.” He gently stroked the spot between her eyebrows with his thumb, the other hand holding one of hers. “Don’t break this promise, my love, please. I can’t do this without you. Hells, you’re still here, but I’m already lost. If you leave, I’ll be lost in this darkness forever. Come back to me, Tavriel.” He planted a single kiss to her forehead before standing, turning to being pacing the room once again. 

After a solid day of sitting next to her on the bed with no signs of life, Astarion had to keep himself moving to try to keep unwanted thoughts at bay. He strolled the length of the room slowly, his eyes staring into the dimly glowing embers of the fireplace. He kept one arm folded across his chest, using it to support the other as it nestled under his chin, occasionally running his thumb over his lower lip in thought. Although the pacing helped to a degree, wicked thoughts still managed to creep their way into Astarion’s mind, causing his stomach to knot in disgust. 

“This is your fault, you know.” He said to himself as he made another turn in the room, “If you had just been stronger in convincing her not to go, she would be here with you now. But no, you were weak. Pathetic. You rolled over and showed your belly and now she’s as good as dead.” He shook the thoughts from his head, desperately trying to think of anything else in the meantime. 

************************************************************************************

Tavriel found herself on her hands and knees on a stone floor, the sharp stones digging into her flesh. She wasn’t sure about where she was, but she knew it was no place she wanted to be for too long. After a moment, she came to realize she was in a room, cold and damp, and it was unsettlingly dark. Even with elven dark vision, she couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her. The darkness was cold and piercing, quickly settling into her rapidly beating heart. Tavriel slowly made her way to her feet, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of another person or, more preferably, an escape.

She dared to take a few steps in front of her, her legs shaking from the pressure of the stones she had been kneeling on. The room was small, yet it seemed never ending. She couldn’t quite make out the wall on the opposite side. Each step she took only seemed to make the wall take a step back from her. After a few more steps she turned, hoping that by going into an opposite direction would lead her to an exit, or at the very least, some answers as to where she was. But no matter the direction she went, Tavriel was lost. She was greeted by nothing but darkness and the never ending loop of a room. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes as she continued pacing, the piercing coldness of the room and the dread of being alone was starting to set in. Gods, how she hated to be alone.

“Darling.” She heard a voice behind her. Quiet and inviting, almost inaudible. She turned, hoping to see a figure standing within her line of sight, but was instead greeted only with more darkness. Her eyebrows knitted together, now wondering if she’d actually heard something or if she had finally lost her mind. She took a few more steps in the direction of the voice, her hand outstretched to prevent her from bumping into any obstacles. Eventually, the tips of her fingers brushed against a piece of damp wood. 

A simple, wooden door was nestled in a deep socket of the stone wall, well hidden in the depth of darkness that surrounded her. As she looked over the potential exit, she could see a very soft, faint glow of light peeking through the crack where the wood met the frame. Hesitantly, she approached the heavy door, placing her hands along the wood before pressing her ear to the gap in the frame. She listened closely, hoping to hear the voice once again. Tavriel held her breathing, seeing if it would allow her to hear the voice more clearly. After a few moments of deafening silence, she heard it again. That soft, gentle voice that had called to her previously. She recognized the voice, but couldn’t place a face. She’d heard it many times recently and it was always the same soothing voice each time it visited her. It called to her from the darkness and beckoned her to the light on the opposite side of the door. Her hands fumbled the surface of the door, searching from a handle or lever she could pull. When her fingers touched the seam and the light shining through, she felt a warmth she wasn’t accustomed to feeling. Whatever it was, was loving.

“Come back to me, Tavriel.” The voice called once again as she found her grip on a metal knob. She held it tightly, turning both directions as it spun in her hand. Tavriel pressed against the door, finding it had come give with her weight. The elf tossed her weight more heavily against the wooden door blocking her path, finding that it bent more and more with each shove. She continued, slamming more roughly into the door with each go, until it finally snapped under her movements. The door burst open and Tavriel fell to the ground on the other side with a grunt, fully bathing in the light and warmth that was cascading over her.

************************************************************************************

Tavriel’s eyes opened slowly, her vision blurred and hazy as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. She wasn’t quite sure where she was, other than a bed, but she did know that it did not belong to her master. She stayed silent and turned her head, unsure if she was in safe company or not, and watched as a figure in the room slowly paced back and forth, unaware of her presence. Tavriel blinked repeatedly, trying to remove the fog from her sight as she hoisted herself to a sitting position. Instinctually, she let out a loud groan as she moved, the pain that shot through her body was too much to bear to keep quiet. Everywhere from her head to her legs ached and burned and she had only just noticed the purple bruising that covered her hands. Her ribs felt as if they were breaking with her movements and the scars along her back burned with an intense heat. 

Astarion’s head whipped her direction, surprise covering his face as Tavriel seemed to suddenly spring to life. She groaned again, teetering on the precipice of a scream as she placed her feet on the ground, seemingly ready to stand. Astarion quickly closed the gap between them, wanting to reach out to keep her from standing too soon, but froze mere inches from her when he saw the look Tavriel had etched across her face. In her still confused mind, Tavriel couldn’t tell who was approaching her, but assumed it was a threat. She leaned back as far as her aching body would allow her and placed a hand in front of her to stop the figure from coming closer. He watched as her outstretched hand trembled in fear, the familiar feeling of dread once again settling in his heart. His eyes then found hers as she scanned his face, desperately trying to understand who was with her. Tavriel’s breath was as shaky as her hand as she looked over the stranger, still unsure if she was with a friend or an enemy. 

After a moment her mind started to clear and she took in the man’s features. Silver hair. Red eyes. Pale skin. Puncture wounds in the neck. She knew this face and knew it well. Both elves remained silent as Tavriel regained her posture, slowly coming back up to a sitting position. Her outstretched and trembling hand soon slowed and reached for the familiar face in front of her. She softly placed the hand on his cheek, wanting to feel him in her grasp to ensure he was real and not just another figment of her imagination. Astarion leaned into her touch, offering her a small smile as her thumb caressed his cheekbone.

“Astarion?” Tavriel asked softly, her voice hoarse from her cries.

“Welcome back, my dear.” He said as his smile slightly grew, relief beginning to wash over him as Tavriel placed her other hand on his opposite cheek. She cupped his face as her eyes continued to scan his features, still half expecting him to fade from her grasp and be plunged back in her masters dungeons. 

“...Real?” She asked hesitantly as her grip on his cheeks tightened slightly.

“Oh yes, love. I’m very real.” Before Astarion could say more, Tavriel pulled him to her. One arm snaked around his back and the other hand found purchase in his hair, her fingers gripping his curls tightly to keep him close. It would have almost been painful had Astarion been gripping her with any less force. His hand slid up her back and rested at the base of her head while the other landed on the sheets behind her, keeping the vampire from toppling on top of her after her pull. They stayed still for a few moments, relishing in the embrace of their companion. 

With his arm beginning to lose feeling from supporting them both, Astarion stood straight, bringing the other elf with him. Tavriel let out another strained groan as she stood, a wave of pain strong enough to make her vision temporarily blur and see white. She clutched to Astarion, her eyes clenching shut as she waiting for the last twinges of agony to subside. Instinctively, Astarion nudged Tavriel to release her grip and tugged at her shirt, ready to pull it out of the way to look over her wounds. In doing so, he felt her tense and he immediately stopped his movements.

“May I?” He asked cautiously as he lightly tugged at the hem of her shirt, signaling he wanted to remove the article to observe her injuries all while not wanting to frighten or unsettle her more than she already was. Although both elves were very comfortable in being scantily dressed or fully nude in each others presence, the act of actually undressing the other was still tender ground. It reminded both of them what it could easily turn into, even though neither were never in the right mindset for sex. They were happy to take things slow, although in this instance Astarion found it necessary to see just how badly Tavriel was hurt.

“Of course.” She said quietly, still fighting off the last aches from standing. Tavriel slowly raised her arms over her head, trying not to make her winces too noticeable. Astarion lifted her shirt, carefully tugging it over her sore arms and eventually over her head completely. The tips of his fingers ghosted over her wounds, slowly tracing the various bruises and scratches. Her numerous scars were inflamed, almost pulsing under his touch, and dried blood was stuck to some of her deeper scratches. 

“You need healing, dear.” Astarion said as he looked over her exposed skin, grimacing at the deep bruises that were self inflicted in her delirium, “Let me go find the druid and see what he can do.”

“No,” Tavriel said with another groan, “I’m fine. There’s no need to waste the resources if I’m not bleeding out. We should save them for someone more important. I’ll heal up in a few days, trust me. I’ve looked, and felt, much worse.” Tavriel reached for her shirt, but Astarion had a firm grip on the ragged fabric, keeping it in his grasp. 

“You will do no such thing!” Astarion shouted, a bit more desperate sounding than he had intended, “Darling, I can’t think of a single more important person that needs our bloody supplies more than you do at the moment. Let me help you.” Tavriel placed her hands over his own, shaking her head as she pried her shirt from his grasp, tears threatening to begin pooling on her eyelids.

“I don’t want to cause more trouble than I already have,” she said as she pulled her shirt back over her head, “I’ve made you worry enough as it is. You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this.” The wood-elf gestured to her head, two fingers tapping at her temple. 

“But I want to,” he said more gently than before, “and so does every member of our little group. Believe me when I say that everyone wants to see you well. Some more than others, but nonetheless, all members are on board.” 

Tavriel sighed heavily, allowing her eyes to close for a moment. She was exhausted and it was beginning to show. The two days she spent in her medicine induced rest didn’t allow her to sleep. Her body was still, but her mind raced; memories flashing, voices floating in and out, and trying to escape the confines of her own mind. Which, of course, had been combined with the sheer panic and terror caused by the mushroom spores, which only drained her energy more. Long nights of no sleep in the Shadow Cursed Lands and the ever present feeling of the mind flayer tadpole swimming behind her eye only added to the exhaustion. 

Tavriel was running on empty, her own body threatening to betray her and collapse under the immense pressure she was facing. But even still, she hesitated in accepting help from her companions. She was their leader and the driving force behind finding a cure to the tadpoles that didn’t involve growing a set of tentacles. She couldn’t appear weak in front of them. It would make her look feeble-minded and could cause the others to think she didn’t know what she was doing. Tavriel had convinced herself that she had to be strong for the others. All of her companions had their own host of terrifying and world shattering issues themselves ranging from a magic powered orb threatening to detonate at any time to the looming threat of the goddess of darkness. Compared to them, Tavriel felt inferior. Her issues, as traumatic as they may be to her, seemed insignificant. And yet, here was Astarion, who was spending every waking moment of his undead life running from his former master, desperately trying to convince her that it would be okay to lean on him in her moment of need.

“Okay,” she said with her eyes still closed, “okay.” Astarion felt another wave of relief wash over him at her agreement for just basic healing. 

“Now then,” Astarion sighed as he tucked a few stray strands of hair from Tavriel’s face, “you wait here while I go fetch the druid. Once he’s done we can get you that bath I promised and see if I can do something with that dreadful burlap of yours.” Tavriel snorted at his teasing, her eyes snapping open as she remember their conversation from before her journey.

“You’re still on about that?” Tavriel cocked her head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“But of course!” He said with a flourish, “The current state of your hair truly is a crime, love, and I would be a willing accomplice if I didn’t offer my services.” Behind her eyes he could see she was still worn down, but was elated to find that she had easily accepted his gentle teasing. 

“I thought you enjoyed the occasional crime?” Her head still tilted to the side as her smile widened. She grabbed onto his arms, firmly holding on to the vampire. Her legs were weak from exhaustion, threatening to collapse under her weight if she didn’t cling to something.

  “I have standards, my dear.” He said with a wink. “And, if memory serves me correctly, you did offer me a reward for my hard work. And you do know how fond I am over a piece of treasure.” Astarion offered her a coy smile as he placed his hands on her waist and gently pulled her to him, trying to avoid agitating any wounds on her body while keeping her on her feet.

“Indeed I do.” She said softly. The elf pressed her forehead to his, mirroring their final embrace before she left for the shadows, sighing contently at the contact. They stood there for some time, simply enjoying the others touch. 

“Meet me in the baths when you’re ready, my love.” Astarion placed a soft kiss to her temple, his hands lingering on her waist before pulling away and slipping out of the room. Tavriel made her way back to the bed, seating herself on the edge with a grunt of pain. She sat there with her eyes closed, trying to center her thoughts as she waited for Halsin. She found a flurry of butterflies making their way to her stomach as she remembered the conversation she’d had with Halsin before making contact with those dreaded mushrooms. In a way she was thankful for Astarion pushing for Halsin to come heal her. They needed to talk and it simply couldn’t wait.

Tag List:

@meganwritesfanfics

[phaerlax]

Quincy/Karu drabble with the vines prompt 🐺🍆🌱

"Did the damn old fox say that breedervine fruit would make you… more virile? Bigger?" Quincy sighs, looking down at the restrained, weakened wolf who writhes on the ground. "Not true. And I'm sure he didn't mention the poison either. Troublesome…"

The human adjusts the scarf around his face to ward off any further bursts of enfeebling pollen from the plants—they had probably not recharged yet, but doesn't hurt to be safe. 

Karu, however, took no such precautions, and the vines got him good; as such, he cannot reply with more than a few choked grunts now. In a cruel twist of irony, the wolf's mouth is stuffed with the 'fruit' that he'd sought– contrary to popular belief, though, those large (and indeed rather phallic) growths on breedervines are not fruits, but specialized stamens. When the plants detect the approach of a suitable animal, they incapacitate it with toxins and penetrate it with the stamens, pumping it full of a seed-packed paste, making it an incubator for new seedlings… Hence that name.

Karu can count himself lucky that Quincy doesn't share Rei's penchant for reciting unnecessary, troubling information. The young yokai seems like he's suffering enough from being witnessed in that undignified state, helplessly restrained with what amounts to plant cocks lodged down his throat and up his ass… 

He doesn't need to know that he's also pretty much being impregnated in the process. Quincy spares him the horror; it will be simple enough to purge Karu of the seedlings with magic later.

"Let's get you free."

The wolf huffs acknowledgement at first, but then he's grunting in distress—as much as he can with limited breathing capacity. He's startled because Quincy had reached down without explanation and fished his dick out of his half-lowered shorts– proving that, clearly, the endowment-boosting properties of breedervine are just folklore; Karu is as 'average' as ever down there. He is formidably erect, though. 

(Besides its subduing effects, breedervine toxin is a potent aphrodisiac, probably to facilitate penetration. Indeed, the stamen seems to have pushed quite deep into the pup's slick and naturally inviting hole, which only stimulates him further.)

"...The vines bonded to your essence. If you cum and relax, they'll relax too. Then I can pull them out without hurting you," he explains to the red-faced boy, whose humiliation seems to peak as his throbbing little dick is fondled. Despite his muffled protests, Quincy's fingers are quickly coated with pre. 

"It will be quicker if I stroke your tail, mhn?"

(He could have simply used a knife… but breedervines are a somewhat endangered species. Karu would surely not appreciate that reasoning, so Quincy omits it as well.)

Soon enough, the forest guardian has the young yokai in his arms and is carrying him home to take care of that gaped, puffy, bred hole that drips with– well, seed.

Nuzzling Quincy's neck in an unusual display of submission, Karu asks that he never speak of this to anyone. Easy enough to grant…

[amygdalamud]

"An Understanding"

Trucking along through the homestretch of Dawntrail and the end is in sight. Little MSQ snippet below from my drafts.

“When two nations cannot protect their own without doing harm to the other, there can only be one resolution. It is a hard truth…but one you understand, don’t you?”

Sphene stares through the group and locks eyes with Lerih, waiting expectantly for the reply that she was denied the last time they confronted one another. A minute of silence passes in the golden city; the lack of any genuine life brings nothing but longing to bear for those present. Lerih lowers her head in thought, her mind replaying everything that led to this exact moment. She considers not just the pivotal and critical encounters with the Ascians or her duties as the White Mage but also the banality of life. The hours that Naago and she spend lounging at their home in the Cieldalaes, how the people of Radz-at-Han learn more of their draconic leader by the day, and the way she’s witnessed love blossom across time and space. She thinks of Zero, a voidsent determined to grasp even a sliver of the humanity she lost. Eternal life, the denial of death, or whatever you want to dress it up as, does little more than deprive the target of true fulfilment.

Finally, she breaks the silence:

“I’ll protect my world and all the others…including yours. Life is precious, I agree, but we cannot flee the pain of loss or the bite of despair; we must remember that we live and that others have lived so that we can find the strength to endure. A life without pain deprives us of that.” Lerih glances around Lost Memory as she speaks, waving her hand at the grand mimicry of life, wincing as she feels a strange ache ripple through her heart. “We hold things precious because we know they will not last forever. There is finality in everything we do, which makes things beautiful…the only sure guarantee life affords us is that one day we will die. This is an immutable truth.”

“Then, you do understand,” Sphene replies but is cut off.

“Do not make assumptions of me. Despite knowing nothing of my character, you continuously speak as if you do, and I’ve grown tired of it. All I understand is that in order to save your world, I must burn this farce you call a nation.” Lerih draws her staff, smacking the end harshly into the coloured brick underfoot. “Your world exists beyond the barrier you’ve erected using stolen aether. These shades that wander your city are nothing but memories, played on repeat ad infinitum, while those unlucky enough to be born before your scheming float endlessly, abandoned and forgotten. I will grant them clemency in death and deliver onto them their kin so that they can be reborn anew!”

“Is that so…” Sphene says after a long silence, “I truly believed you were wiser than this. Very well, this simply reaffirms my resolution to erase the memories of the living Sphene and rule without conscience. In my many years, I have seen the cycle of tragedy break my people, and delivering them from that agony is my one true charge as Queen. To ensure the survival and prosperity of my people, I will become a devourer of worlds; heartlessly will I avail myself of other world’s aether to slake the needs of my own. Would that it was any other way, I do apologize…”

 The tension between the Queen and Lerih reaches a critical point and threatens to boil over on the spot. What scions are present ready themselves, hands poised to draw their weapons should the situation spiral out of control, but the two do little more than glare at one another. However, the severe expression on Sphene’s face softens into something akin to pity —perhaps sympathy— as her physical form flickers. When she next speaks, the tinniness of her voice dampens any emotion into a cold deadpan.

“I’m afraid we’re out of time.” She continues, “The process had begun. And it cannot be stopped. Not even by you, Lerih. My people will endure.”

Provoked by the implications in Sphene’s words, those present at last draw and ready their weapons, though the late Queen glitches and vanishes, leaving them in silence. G’raha and Lerih, in particular, shudder at the display, recalling their respective conflicts with the Omicron tribe. As they reflect on the interstellar-machina hivemind’s obsession with understanding humanity, the Meso Terminal blares to life with a deafening message:

“Meso Terminal memory deletion in progress. Upon completion, interdimensional fusion will commence.”