#beyond this point consistent posting will be rough

[provincial-charmer]

As Boundless As The Sea

SURPRISE! It's Chapter Two! Immediately! Because I already had it posted elsewhere so I figured why not! Also hey, first mention of an actual canon character!

If you want taken back to Chapter One, it's over here!

Rated: E for Everyone, briefly slipping toward PG

Warnings: Mentions of religious persecution, the Spanish Inquisition warrants a warning all it's own, brief implications of watching a burning at the stake, brief mentions of torture that Marco doesn't fully listen to because he briefly DISSOCIATES, which, also, warning for very brief dissociation

Recommended Listening: "Map and Willie" by Dave Grusin, from The Goonies soundtrack

Chapter Two: Enter Captain Gutiérrez

In which we are introduced to our central antagonist, as well as our treasure map. Can't have a treasure hunt without one of those.

 Captain Aurelio Guiomar Gutiérrez was a mountain of a man. With a heavy mane of hair in varying shades of grey and white and a large, fur-trimmed coat laid over his already broad shoulders, no light came through the door so long as he stood there. I might have been deceived into thinking there was light in his eyes, but it could have been a dim reflection of the sun, too ashamed to look upon him fully.

 It also could have been the firelight of Hell. I couldn’t tell. What I could tell was that he came to me with all the joy of a carnivore in his face. And what brought him joy only ever brought me misery.

 He returned my greeting by tipping his hat as his smile grew wider still. “And a good morning to you as well, Marco! I hope you’re enjoying your break!”

 I looked down to the beignet in my hand. In response, I told him with false playfulness, “I was enjoying it, before you showed up.”

 He laughed. It was a heavy sound that shook the bones of any who heard it. Which wasn’t a compliment. “Oh, don’t worry! I won’t take too much of your time! I just have a new job for you! That’s all!”

 “Oh, good. ” I responded, knowing it wouldn’t be good at all.

 “Now, now, don’t give me that!”  He then said to me in a scolding manner I assumed was intended to be playful, only to clap a hand onto my shoulder with far too much force for my comfort. “I think you’re going to enjoy this one!”

 I rolled my eyes. “You’ve said that before…”

 “And I’ve meant it every time! If I may?”

 As he gestured to my house with his free hand, I sighed. Of course he wanted in. As if I could refuse him.

 “You may.” I removed his hand from my shoulder so I could step aside. “Right this way, Capitán. ”

 His smile grew wider, showing more teeth, before he had the dignity to close his mouth and enter. Now, when he smiled with a closed mouth, that was one of the only times I could have been fooled into thinking his smile was pleasant. That was how I figured many felt about him. He might have been pleasant to listen to for some – somehow – and he might have been pleasant to look at for others – somehow – but as soon as he opened his mouth… 

 “May I also take one of these?” He then asked me, as he pointed at the basket of beignets in passing.

 I wanted to say no. But he was my guest. My higher-ranking, terribly influential guest. “ Sí, sí puedes. But only one! I want there to still be some for Perlita when she gets home, do you understand?”

 “ Sí, sí, I understand…”

 He said this as he took the biggest beignet out of the basket. Bastardo. 

 Now Aurelio, he loved dragging his visits out well into the day. I hardly saw him in years past due to the War of the Agreement, so I didn’t have to dread his visits very often. However, seeing now that he had come back to stay, he seemed to want to take as much of my time as possible. Normally, I would tolerate those conversations to a certain point, then say a key word or phrase that would signal to him that it was time to go.

 Not here. I wanted this conversation to last no longer than it needed to. So as we approached the coffee table, I got right to the point. “Now, what am I translating this time?” I asked him. “Not another religious text, I hope?”

 I took my first bite out of the beignet after asking him this. And I will admit, the sugar certainly helped me to tolerate him. But only a little.

 “Not at all!” He started to tell me with a wave of his hand. “This request has nothing to do with the church whatsoever!”

 Ah, wonderful, I started thinking to myself, I won’t have to deal with the –

 “Instead, this request comes from Her Royal Majesty, Queen Isabel de Farnesio!”

 As quickly as my relief came, it went, and with it went my appetite.

 For all my work for the Navy, this much could be said: whatever the Navy made me do was almost always within the realm of what I knew, and they were almost always completely transparent with me on who made the request. This was one of the few benefits to being employed by those who knew exactly the limitations of my education. It also helped that I knew exactly who to curse out when I was losing too much sleep.

 But for all the translations I had made before, the requests never came from royalty. This… this was unheard of.

 “… Queen Isabel?” I asked him, slowly, to which he gave but a single nod. “What in the world would she want me to translate?”

 His smile grew, and there were the teeth again. I regretted asking immediately. “See for yourself.”

 The Captain then removed a scroll case he had so carefully concealed under his coat. Had I been paying more attention when he had come in, I’m certain I would have noticed it sooner. But I did not. Instead, I stared at this case, struck silent by the mark of the Spanish royal family upon its seal.

 Luckily, I always kept a pair of gloves in one of my pockets, should it get too cold to head out bare-handed. So to protect the case from the evidence of my eating, I put them on before handling the case myself. Even though the case was clearly made by the Crown, and so was in no danger of breaking to my touch, I was still as cautious as could be in opening it. But the cap twisted off easily enough, releasing to me the smell of sea salt and stale blood.

 All things considered, I was relieved to smell nothing worse.

 Slowly, I tipped the case so what was inside would slide into my open hand. What then slipped out nearly stopped my heart. For something of this case size, I expected it to be made out of linen, or perhaps cotton.

 Instead, what fell into my hand was papyrus.

 For those who may not know, papyrus is made from the pith - or medulla - of the papyrus plant, rather than the cloth that we use. It was most prominently documented as being used by the Egyptians, but was used by other cultures of the Mediterranean Sea, as well as several Asian cultures.

 Up to this point, I had never been given the honor of handling papyrus. The last I had seen of it was on display in someone’s home in Venice, back when I had lived there many years ago. There, no one was ever allowed to touch it, given its age. It may very well have fallen apart if anyone so much as bent it the wrong way.

 Yet here it was. A piece of history, sitting in my hands.

 I was captivated. He could have presented me with the crown of the King himself and I would have regarded it with less respect.

 Carefully, so carefully, I moved everything else on the coffee table aside to unroll the scroll fully. I did this as slowly as I could, not just to see what was on it, but to listen to the sound it made. It had a satisfying crackle to it that pleased the ears. I made certain not to fracture or tear it in the process. Not that I needed to, as it appeared an entire section of the scroll was missing when fully unfurled.

 What I saw upon it then was… a map. An honest-to-God map.

 “… Capitán, ” I slowly started to ask, “How did you…”

 Then I stopped myself. I didn’t need to ask how. It was the Spanish Navy. The greatest likelihood is that they stole it. Instead I asked, “Where did you even find this?”

 When I looked back up to him, he looked too proud. “We happened to recover it from the hands of a recently acquired prisoner of ours,” He answered, “one Capitán Jack Sparrow. ”

 I actively had to hold my breath to prevent myself from sighing again. Captain Jack Sparrow. Of course. It couldn’t have been anyone else, out of all pirates, no no. It just had to be him…

 The Captain continued, either ignorant to my recognition of the name or uncaring of it. “At first, he didn’t want to tell us anything about it. He tried giving us every name and excuse he could, if it meant we could have let him and his scruffy friend go. Pájaro terco. ”

 He scoffed, before taking another bite of his beignet. He didn’t even wait until he was done chewing before going on. Luckily he got nothing on the map.

 “Once we placed him in the hands of the Inquisition, they wasted no time making him sing.”

��A chill came over me then. As it always did, whenever the Inquisition was brought up in conversation.

 The Spanish Inquisition, or the Tribunal del Santo Oficio de la Inquisición, as was the full title, was a truly wicked organization, loudly professing their loyalty to the Crown of Spain and God above while committing the most heinous crimes in their name. They claimed to know the word of God, yet acted with such wickedness that I felt even the Devil would have crossed himself in their presence.

 No part of our history involving them was good. There was not one good thing they did for us, as a people, a community, or a civilization. My own personal history in dealing with them was especially unpleasant. So much so that I neither saw Captain Gutiérrez’s mouth move nor heard anything else of what he said.

 All that was in my mind was fire. Fire, and rain, and the curses that my mother spoke above a raging storm, scorned by an auto de fe.

 I struggled to force the images out of my mind as I looked back down to the map. I had no immediate recognition of the geography compared to modern charts. And aside from the unfamiliar coastlines drawn out, there were several islands scattered around the paths marked on the map that I couldn’t immediately recall. I couldn’t even make out the end of the trail. That was the section that had been torn off.

 How unfortunate.

 “… it’s truly a shame they didn’t have to whip him much. Considering what he said to us, I feel he should have lost more skin for it. Ah, well.”

 It was then I remembered where I was, and who I had the misfortune of talking to.

 “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

 I looked up to see Captain Gutiérrez regarding the map and I with a familiar fondness. One that seemed to seek some kind of approval from me, for reasons I could never figure out. To satisfy this, I agreed with him. “It is. In all my years of working here, I’ve never seen anything like this. Do you know how this came into Capitán Sparrow’s possession?”

 He thought well about this. I figured he was looking for the right words, as I had assumed by this point that there were some things the Spanish Royal Navy knew that I, being a common man, was not privy to. So as much as I imagine he didn’t want to be, he had to be careful with what he told me.

 During this silence, I briefly imagined the satisfaction one must have found in being in a position that was able to tell him ‘no’ and get away with it. I also fantasized about a quarry in one of his big game hunts overseas devouring him with the same elegant carelessness that he devoured the beignet.

 I quite liked the idea of it being a lioness. Or a bear. Or perhaps a particularly humble little family of piranhas that he tripped and fell into the jaws of while trying to cross a river.

 I liked that last one especially.

 Eventually, he found his answer. “Well, according to Sparrow, he, eh… acquired the map from a rival of his. A piece was torn off in his escape, so that remains with the previous owners. When he finally told us where he believed it led, Queen Isabel was most interested in authenticating his claim, and sent me out to find one who could translate the languages present.”

 “I recognized one of them as Ancient Greek, then recalled you mentioning you had studied Greek while you worked abroad. So I went to find you at once.”

 On my second look at the map, I noted that yes, Ancient Greek was there… alongside Egyptian hieroglyphs. The latter was used on the names of locations such as land masses, cities, rivers and oceans, and the former was more common as fragments scattered throughout. In my mind, the parts in Greek were likely notes made by whoever purchased the map when it was first made. The hieroglyphs had to be from the map’s creators.

 An Ancient Egyptian map with notes from an Ancient Greek expedition… were it any other circumstance on any other day, I would have been beside myself with joy. It just had to be a work-related translation…

 “Well, you should consider yourself lucky you managed to catch me when you did.” I then told him. I did my best not to let my disappointment at the situation show. “I’ll have plenty of time to translate it for you, seeing as you caught me before I could even schedule my next hunting trip. ”

 I brushed my fingers gently over the surface of the map as I said this. It was a marvel holding such a priceless piece. Alas, I couldn’t ignore who it came from. It was a map valued by a pirate , after all. If Jack Sparrow himself was interested in it…

 I had to ask. “Where did he say it leads? I imagine he would have been after something incredibly valuable for the Queen of Spain to be interested…”

 Captain Gutiérrez straightened himself up and told me, beaming with well-contained excitement, “ Well, if Sparrow is to be believed… then it may well lead to Atlantis.”

 I looked up to him from where I sat.

 He looked down at me from where he stood.

 The silence weighed heavy like an anchor between us.

 Did I hear him correctly?

 I might not have. Best to check.

 “… Atlantis.” I slowly said.

 "Sí,” He repeated. “Atlantis.”

 “The ancient city, lost to the Greeks.” I went on. “The city said to have spurned the gods, and to have sunk beneath the waves for it? That city?”

 “One and the same!”

 As I slowly looked back down to the map, the academic in me wanted to laugh. All through my years I had heard scholars and sailors alike tell stories of their search for it, only to return humbled and empty-handed. And I myself had participated in my own share of debates as to the validity of its existence. I was among the audience believing the theory that Atlantis was invented by Plato to try and warn his own people to be more humble. Nothing else would have made sense to me. There was simply no way an entire city could sink to the bottom of the sea without any outside record or evidence.

 It was a cautionary tale to me. Nothing more.

 And yet, part of me wanted to believe in it. That part of me that grew up loving the tales of my father’s expeditions – that believed every fantastical story my brother Thorello told me to help me sleep at night – wanted to believe that Atlantis was real, and that it was out there, waiting to be uncovered.

 Waiting for someone like me.

 That, and there was no denying the age of the map before me, nor whose hands it came from. It would have taken a master to try and recreate a map like this for any kind of forgery. Even if it proved to be yet another dead end, I allowed myself the briefest moment to fantasize…

 Realistically, it could have been a ruin, like so many others. A husk of its former self. It might not have even had much to offer in the way of monetary gain. But oh, the possibilities! Mosaics and pottery! Glimpses of ancient artwork and architecture! Undiscovered historical records, memories from the people that lived there, depictions of now-extinct wildlife, or perhaps even the fragments of an incomplete epic… the possibilities were endless!

 Oh, if only it had fallen into someone else’s hands! If only it wasn’t the Spanish Royal Navy that had found it! I knew exactly where all that was found in Atlantis would go if they got their hands on it.

 Still, the map I held in my hands was real, there was no mistake about that. Whether the destination was real or not had yet to be seen. All I knew was that I had my work cut out for me in translating it.

 Which begged the question… “So how much will I be paid to translate it?”

 Captain Gutiérrez grinned. “That’s the best part,” He started to say. He proceeded to finish off his beignet with a few final bites before continuing. “ If it happens to lead to Atlantis, and if we are able to claim it in the name of Spain, then I’ve convinced them that it should be a valuable enough find to dismiss what remains of your debt! Rather clever of me, don’t you think?”

 There were no words I could recall, in any of the countless languages I had been taught, that could at all describe all the conflicting feelings that arose in that singular moment. But I will still try to explain, in brief, to the best of my ability.

 See, my debt to the Navy, at the time, was not the traditional kind of debt. I wasn’t told specific numbers to work toward paying off, nor was I allowed to even ask how much was left. If I tried, all I got were vague answers. Professional speeches that sounded perfect on paper, yet gave no real human comfort.

 Not once, in eighteen, almost nineteen years of service, was I ever told, “doing this will absolve you of the rest of your debt.”

 It felt too good to be true. Like a dream I had yet to wake up from, before the tiles beneath my feet suddenly collapsed out from beneath me and dropped me into sea.

 But that was just it. It was too good to be true. If not for just one word in that entire conversation, I might have jumped for joy. I might have kissed a man, even, if not for that one accursed word.

 "… ‘If’?” I asked.

 "Sí. ‘If’.” Captain Gutiérrez confirmed. That proud grin on his face fell when he said that, but it fell in a way I couldn’t read clearly. I could never quite tell if his hopes for me were sincere or not. “Sadly, it will not be so easy for me to convince them to pay you as much if it doesn’t lead to Atlantis. So I suppose you’ll need to authenticate it first.”

 “After all, there’s no speaking for what has not yet been proven, is there?”

 I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. What little hope had stirred slowly turned to hatred. Hatred that I didn’t allow to show in my voice, knowing just how much power he had over me in this situation.

 “… No, there isn’t.”

 “As I thought!” He clapped his hands together. “How soon can you have it done?”

 Slowly, I breathed in, then out. Re-imagining the piranhas helped, to some extent. “If you’re only asking for authentication,” I told him, “it should take me no more than a day or two, once it’s clean. A full translation of the map will take much longer, depending on if you want me to make a fully translated copy or merely make notes on what the original says.”

 “We’ll prioritize authentication, then.” He said this with a honeyed sweetness that, to me, tasted like poison. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

 I smiled back at him as he rose, as he passed me by, even as he broke his own word and stole two more beignets out of that little woven basket. I let him think I didn’t notice. Only when I knew his back was to me did I let it fall, scowling as I had wanted to for the entire conversation. As he made ready to leave, I heard him pause at the door. I could feel him staring at my back. How I loathed the sensation.

 “Oh! And thank you for the beignets! They’re delicious!”

 My hands slowly tightened their grip on the table as he left. It took every good grace within me to resist the urge to throw the remainder of the basket at the back of his head. But that would have wasted perfectly good food. Then Perlita wouldn’t have been able to have any.

 Once my door was shut, and I knew with absolute certainty that he was gone, I let myself relax. I was left alone with my thoughts, once so neatly organized, now all disoriented by the weight of the task laid before me.

 I reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Mierda...”

 Whatever beignets were left in the basket, I left for Perlita. I was no longer hungry for them. Instead, I washed my hands properly before taking the map, the case, and my gloves up to my office to begin work. By the time she finally came back about six hours later, that’s precisely where she found me.

 Alone, in my office, working the daylight away.

 As usual.

[mccoyquialisms]

my fantasy high red-string-conspiracy-theory-board-of-the-main-mystery lore tracker (a long ass post) (because I love both mysteries AND organization of inconsequential information):

rough chronology of events:

In ages past there is a wedding attended in the Chaos Mountains by Sol and Galicaea of their sister the Witch Goddess to an unnamed giantkin god. This god is a summer god, sibling of the giant winter goddess Ruvina

Over centuries, the unnamed god's domain changes from the sun and summer to fire

This unnamed god is killed and their name was wiped from history. The other gods remember who this being is, but due to obliviati mori, cannot reference them directly to mortals. Red shatter stars appear around this time

850 years before present day, the Witch Goddess's name is erased by her followers (encouraged by followers of Galicaea) and she is transformed into the Nightmare King. Before she does she performs the 4 trans-substantiations to resist being "unmade". Her familiar Kalina becomes a plague and begins to spread through the mortal populace. These events likely happen after the death of her spouse, as there is no reference to a spouse when the Witch Goddess was previously mentioned

Roughly 4-6 years before modern day, the pit fiend Bakur attempts to resurrect his god, whose name was lost "so they could not be worshiped." The return of this god is felt to be a significant threat to the world. Lydia Barkrock and her adventuring party stop him by sealing Bakur in a red gem in Lydia's chest, where she keeps him imprisoned with her rage

The Ratgrinders, then called the High 5 Heroes, meet in freshman year and consist of Kipperlilly, Oisin, Mary Anne, Ruben, Ivy and Lucy.

They xp level up by killing rats, twig gremlins and other small magical creatures in the woods behind Aguefort

The events of freshman year happen and Kalvaxus is released. During prom, Ragh spots Jace Stardiamond talking to Arianwen. He is later "barbarian healed" by Porter and after this can see Kalina. Kalina finds Ragh later and threatens Lydia if he talks about what he's seen

Sophomore year spring break happens and the Nightmare King is transformed into the goddess now named Cassandra

At some point Lucy began to return to the woods after party sessions to revive the rats they killed. She did this long enough and with enough regularity that the rats remember her name/face well and think of her fondly

Paperwork is submitted for Lucy to change her god from Ruvina to a god whose name cannot be read, just before her disappearance. A few days later a second request is submitted to withdraw this change. Neither form was ever seen by Lucy's teacher Yolanda Badgood

Lucy was killed near Lake Shimmerstone by multiple assailants with both weapon and magical damage towards the end of sophomore year, in the period of weeks after grades were complete, but before summer break. The area has multiple uprooted trees, some of which were used to hide her body. Unholy rites were performed over her body to force her soul to the beyond, so she cannot be revived.

Lucy is reported as dead but her body was never found. She was described as "not alive in this material plane" via divination

Because of the timing of her death, her party was not moved to pass/fail as all grades for that year had already been submitted

Night Yorb and the long dark summer happens

Buddy Dawn, a cleric of Sol, is specifically requested by the Ratgrinders to be their new cleric for junior year

Also over the long dark summer, the Loam farmers are accused of embezzlement and the Frostyfair festival is moved from there to the Thistlesprings tree at the recommendation of Lola Embers. Sklonda Gukgak is assigned as the Loam couple's public defender

Kipperlilly finds or is found by the rogue teacher and has passed the whole of junior year

Junior year begins. On her first day, Kipperlilly questions Jawbone on where YES! was created

Kipperlily announces she is running for student body president and her primary platform is for uniform equity under the rules without "favoritism"

In the mall of the Synod, the event that kicks off the battle is Cassandra becomes angry hearing Kristen isn't coming to help find followers. She says "This isn't fair!" as a razor-sharp flickering star of red light emerges from her chest. 24-point, red shatter stars infect nearby wizards and turns them into rage-filled, violent, giant versions of themselves. The people taken over by the shatter stars are instructed by an unknown voice to attack Cassandra

Cassandra is able to be calmed by a high persuasion and when she does, she expels multiple shatter stars. She seems to recognize them and says "I thought you were dead.”

Before Kalina is taken over by the shatter stars, she looks to Riz and says "Ragh Barkrock". She then slits Cassandra's throat, triggering a new round of rage in Cassandra

Cassandra suffers multiple attacks and begins to transform into a giant, red raging version of herself and attempts to kill the party. Before she's successful, the gang are swept away in a time loop back to Spyre. The Bad Kids see the Synod is destroyed, and Kristen finds she has shards of Cassandra in her pocket

Kristen attempts to commune with Cassandra and hears a voice say "She is at my side once more." The voice then mocks Kristen with YES!'s body and then tells Kristen it is coming for her, and it will break her irrevocably.

Ivy sees Fig disguised as Lucy at the party at Seacastor Manor, and has an inscrutable reaction to it, but did not seem surprised

The cloud rider engine in Fabian's basement is broken and a piece is found missing

Kipperlily does the food truck event with the subliminal OK messaging on the packaging

Ruben Hopclap performs at FrostFaire when he is attacked by Principal Grix. Grix is eventually killed by Fabian. The Bad Kids determine Ruben was doing some kind of ritual with a song about anger above an arcano-tech array in a 24 point star pattern, successfully releasing a large amount of some type of magical energy.

Simultaneously, Yolanda Badgood is killed at Lake Shimmerstone by immense concussive force damage, and afterwards her body is expertly hidden. She is subjected to the same unholy last rites that Lucy was.

The Bad Kids find Lucy and Yolanda's bodies, and Kristen releases their souls, who travel to the beyond on a "trail of moonlight"

Sklonda's clients are found murdered

Mazey reveals that the Vice Principal (i.e. Jace) does not become the Principal, and it would be the student body president who becomes the new principal of Aguefort

additional info we can reasonably infer or that don't fit neatly in the timeline:

Buddy's grandparents, and likely Buddy himself, have a vested interest in his grandfather becoming the cleric teacher. He went to Aguefort and is familiar with the school. Presumably he wants this to be able to preach about Sol and spread his influence

At some point before her death, Yolanda told Jace about her concerns regarding Lucy's deity-transfer paperwork

Cassandra is not dead, but is "beyond reach"

Lucy and Yolanda were noted to be in "realms beyond", which Brennan specifically noted they were taken from and "whatever was happening there"

The Ratgrinders are gunning for the bad kids and seem to be orchestrating situations to try to get them to take drugs

Porter's philosophical discussion with Fig regarding the concept of protection and how that is often inextricably tied with rage, that one can act as a fuel for the other

Porter is a paladin of the ancestors, and at some point was mentioned to be a goliath, though this seems to be debated in canon. If true, it's possible he's a descendant of giants

Kristen bring's up Sol's wrath and Buddy does not refute this, agreeing Sol's wrath is a well known aspect of him and he has been quite angry because of the dark summer/night yorb situation

As above so below. What the gods do affect their mortal followers, but conversely, what the mortals who follow them do also affect the gods

A god can only come back from death in a place a god had been born or created, meaning Bakur's decision to try to revive his fallen god in the Red Waste was what doomed it to failure

Bakur's documents are written in the language of giants, and his deity is said to be from the same region as Ruvina. Combining this with Adaine’s research, and the “mitochondrial magic print”, Bakur’s god is Cassandra’s former spouse

The cloud rider piece was likely stolen by the Ratgrinders as Kipperlily asked Aelwyn to research schematics of the device

Kipperlily seems to be keeping information from some of the other Ratgrinders, telling Aelwyn she needs to "protect Oisin" from their shady deals

Kipperlily's mother works for the city treasury and her father is in real estate. Neither are super wealthy, but Kipperlilly has been paying Aelwyn large amounts of money to obtain arcane components. Given the timing of this with the disappearance of a large sum of money from the Frostyfair accounts, the timing of the murder of the people who were blamed for it, and that the new chosen location happens to be the home of one of the Ratgrinders rivals, the Ratgrinders involvement is thought to be likely

Cassandra's whispered clue of "spies, tongue, curse"

Places outside Spyre, like the Synod, are easier for dead gods to reach

For whatever the Ratgrinders have planned, a student being the principal of Aguefort is essential for it. A lot of people have had to be conveniently absent or dead for this circumstance to occur.

This is all not even touching Aguefort's whole journey through time and possible time quangle issue and whatever the fuck Fig's Bad Luck Thing is. I'm not convinced that these are related to the god stuff and are likely their own separate issues. also, I am tired lmao. If you want to hear my rambling theories, I'll be making a separate post.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Smokescreen is more like Orion Pax/Optimus Prime, and here's why I think this.

So, I know my post deconstructing Jack's informed "Prime-like" qualities is making the rounds, and seeing as I promised to do one with Smokescreen and how he is like Orion/Optimus, I feel now would be a good time to make good on that promise.

Buckle up and hang tight, especially since TF One will be mentioned as well for this post.

So, from what we know of Smokescreen in TFP, he was one of the last few cadets inducted into the Elite Guard. That right there tells us that the young 'Bot has raw potential, since not just anyone gets into the Elite Guard. By all accounts, he threw himself into the rigorous training and powered through to become well received, and made enough of a statement to become Alpha Trion's bodyguard. That right there takes talent, even if he did want to do his part and fight on the front line and beat Decepticon heads in. And yes, he was distraught to be relegated to Alpha Trion watch duty and yes, he was disappointed to not be out there in the thick of it fighting with his fellow Autobots for the greater good.

But he accepted it.

Not once was it mentioned that Smokescreen put in a transfer request for the front line of the War. He may have wanted to fight and, maybe, gain a little glory and be like the heroes he'd heard about, but it actually never got to his head, or his Spark. Instead, he rolled with what he had and came to genuinely enjoy a friendship with Alpha Trion, learning a lot from him as well. Smokescreen still took a chance to get in a fight, but he never went in without at least a rough outline of a plan, as evidenced by his debut episode and then again later on, even in the infamous episode where the team gets the Star Saber.

Speaking of, that episode shows us another of Smokescreen's great traits: his refusal to be intimidated by the Decepticons - including Megatron himself.

And the thing is, Smokescreen truly is fearless in front of Megatron in that episode. He's brought before the Lord of the Decepticons, surrounded on all sides with no escape, and is almost certainly seconds away from death or horrid torture. But what does he do when asked who he is?

Smokescreen smirks and sarcastically asks, "Why? Who wants to know?"

The boy nearly got backhanded into oblivion for that, and he still kept his scrap together! Put anyone else in that position, and some transmission fluid is seriously getting leaked.

Except, of course, for one 'Bot.

Optimus Prime.

This is where their similarities are shown first. Like Smokescreen, Orion/Optimus has tremendous talent that, at first raw, gets refined over time. While he is nowhere near as brash or reckless as Smokescreen started (outside of TF One), Optimus always wants to do his part, and throws himself into his work and dreams and gives it his all. He consistently comes out better and stronger from his trials, and doesn't fear Megatron or anyone else on the Decepticons' side, just like Smokescreen. Here, they're shown as similar, including with how they both stand up for what's right, and plant themselves in the ground and fight for what is good and greater than themselves.

Another similarity they share is how they accept their wrongs and don't shirk them onto another. While I have many reservations on his portrayal in TF One, the writers nailed Orion/Optimus when he takes full responsibility for the race when he and D-16 were met with Sentinel after the fact. Additionally, Orion/Optimus was always eager to make a point for the greater good and was willing to be an engine of change for others, no matter what. On the same token, while Smokescreen had a tendency to be overzealous in proving his worth to the team, he persistently pulled his own weight and, when it came to messing up, he always took full responsibility for his actions. He even went beyond that, often feeling so remorseful that he continually offered to leave the team if he was "unfit for [them]" (be honest with yourselves, Optimus at any point before becoming a Prime would do almost the exact same thing.) Furthermore, whenever he was being verbally attacked by another teammate, Smokescreen took it and didn't give crap back. Even when Vince threw that burger at his window, his payback was more on behalf of Jack's dignity than his own.

Just think about it: why would a human throw food at him specifically? It logically would have been directed at his passenger, a notion that's reinforced by Jack's desperation to hide from Vince's sight. And if you want to really get deep, compare it to Orion standing up to Darkwing for D-16 in the mines. Are both courses of action immature? Yes, but they're done on behalf of someone other than themselves. It's even shown again when Smokescreen defends Optimus' choice to destroy the Omega Lock against Ratchet. While this is the first time he's ever spoken up to someone on the team, it's in defense of Optimus and pointing out that Ratchet has no place to read Optimus the riot act for a make-or-break decision in an already desperate situation that would have doomed millions to billions of more lives. Smokescreen had always stayed quiet and followed directives as well as he could without a word of complaint up until that moment, and the only reason he raised his hackles was because Ratchet was lamenting a loss that pales in comparison to the disaster that was averted [and was ultimately Ratchet's own fault for creating.]

This is the beauty of the similarities between Optimus and Smokescreen. Neither of them take particular offense when they themselves are attacked/ridiculed, but will fight tooth and nail for those they care about if you so much as say one nasty thing about their friends. They both hold fast to all that is good, want to help change the world/make it a better place, and are proactive about it. And while they both start out like high school jocks (I'm mostly thinking of G1 Orion Pax for this), they never let their abilities go to their head and make them think of themselves above others. Instead, they merely see their abilities as tools to help those around them: Optimus used his mind, eloquence with words, and physical power to kick off the change he wanted on Cybertron, while Smokescreen willingly offered his full array of skills and fresh power to aid Team Prime for the War effort and replenish their numbers.

These traits wonderfully show that Smokescreen is, in actuality, a worthy Prime for the future. He puts others before himself, he is active in helping those who need it, he runs into the fire when others run from it, and turns down a chance to become a Prime because he knows he doesn't have the experience for it. This especially is important because it shows that while Smokescreen was a bit starry-eyed about war and ranks, he never wanted power.

He wanted to be an agent of good, just like Optimus.

And he was.

That's all I really have left to say. If you enjoyed this, I'm really happy. TFP Smokescreen is my second favorite character in, possibly, all of Transformers. I wish his potential for the Primacy wasn't slept on by so many fans in favor of Bumblebee, and that we could actually see him take up the Matrix after Optimus (preferably) retires to enjoy peace for once.

See you around people!

"Autobots, roll out!"

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Sweet Scheme ASMR translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an ASMR that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

T/N: The ASMR name 蜜谋 (mìmóu) consists of two characters: 蜜 (mì), meaning "honey" or "sweet," and 谋 (móu), meaning "plan"/"plot"/"scheme". In this ASMR, it refers to Lucien scheming to get punished (and also the other way around) LOL

⚠️ This ASMR is NSFW and NOT suitable for individuals under the age of 18 due to its sexual nature. It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Twitter link [click here]

GDrive link [soon]

Transcript under the cut~

[Transcript]

[sounds of door opening + clinking of things]

I'm back.

Mm

Today's experiment

went much smoother than I expected,

so I came back early.

Just in time,

I also wanted to see you sooner.

Hmm?

What are you doing

Are these… gems?

[chuckles] I have only heard about it on the phone before

when you were filming a jewelry show

you bought a very beautiful emerald rough

[the fact that the emerald is still rough is important for the later part because it means that the edges are sharp and can cause pain-]

I just didn't expect…

there to be so many.

There's only one,

and the rest are candies?

[chuckles] So that's how it is

If I find the gem,

will it and you both belong to me?

It seems that

this is a "test" for me from my little lady.

Of course, I am willing to accept all your challenges.

However, before we begin,

I would like to understand the rules of this game.

For example,

how many chances do I have?

Or…

if I guess wrong,

what will the punishment be?

[the way he said it… man is looking forward to the punishment🤪]

Hmm?

You want to keep it a secret for now?

[chuckles]

Okay

Then…

[Lucien reaches out his hand to pick up one of the "gems", but is held back]

Am I not allowed to pick it up,

and can only observe it here?

[chuckles]

Fine

Then…

I'll choose this one.

Hmm?

Did I guess wrong?

Alright

Then can you tell me now 

what the punishment is?

Close my eyes?

[some rustling noises in the background as he is being stripped open-]

[LUCIEN'S HEAVENLY PANTING AS HE'S BEING PUNISHED-]

…although when you stripped open my clothes

I probably knew what the "punishment" would be,

the "gem" you just placed on my back

is even a little colder than I imagined.

This little lady looks a bit disappointed…

Hmm?

[chuckles]

Because I don't look surprised?

Maybe it's because,

when I guessed wrong, the mischievous look in your eyes was too obvious.

[T/N: he affectionately uses the title “little classmate” (小同学); I'm using ‘you’ for better flow~]

However

Compared to my back…

The waist areas around ribs,

and lower abdomen below navel,

are densely populated with nerve endings

and are much more sensitive.

[some DELICIOUS soft moans as he’s being punished in those places-]

[breathlessly] These areas

might better achieve the effect you desire.

[hell yea I sure wonder what kind of another ”””effect””” she's looking for-]

[chuckles]

Then…

I'll continue guessing

[chuckles]

This piece has a cooler color

The cracks in the crystal are also more natural

It seems to be the one

Did I guess wrong again?

I didn't expect this game

to be more "challenging" than I imagined.

[sigh]

It seems this little classmate is going to win another round.

Bring it on.

[chuckles] You can use a bit less force.

Otherwise,

the stimulation felt by the nerve endings

will be overshadowed by other sensations

[other sensations here might refer to pain caused by too much force… pain play doesn't work as well as temperature play on him due to him canonically having an absurdly high pain threshold and is less sensitive to pain]

Just like this…

[Lucien takes one of the “gems” and runs it on her body]

Hmm?

Did it feel cold to you?

I just think that

personally experiencing this feeling

will help you do it better.

[I think he doesn't mind the pain itself, BUT if you want to give him ‘better’ punishment, focus more on the temperature play🤪]

[chuckles] 

Sorry

the way you opened your eyes wide just now 

was really cute.

It made me want to be a bit more "excessive."

The one I have in my hand

should be the emerald you asked me to guess.

Of course, it can't be wrong

In the emerald ore,

there are some granules and textures

Moreover

emeralds are called beryls

and are mostly in the shape of hexagonal prisms.

When you were preparing the show,

I also secretly "stole" some knowledge from you.

Did I guess wrong on purpose before?

You caught me.

Within the rules,

experiencing everything the game has to offer is what makes it enjoyable, right?

[chuckles] Don't get distracted,

look,

the candy in your hand is already starting to melt.

Although this beautiful and translucent gem

is also very captivating.

To me,

the candy in your hand is more attractive.

[sounds of him rolling the candy to his mouth and licking the melting sugar on her hand]

Although it looks just like a gemstone on the surface,

it's sweeter than I imagined.

It has a bit of a green grape flavor.

Miss Producer,

haven't you tried it yourself?

Then…

[kissing noises as he ‘shares’ the candy sensually]

Let's share the fruit of this "victory" together.

[MORE delicious kissing noises before it fades away. With him being stripped off, I think we all know where this is going iykwim-]

[tgcf-fic]

Hello, I’m back.😁🤚 I’ve got another tgcf fic rec request. We always see Hua Cheng putting his best or original face on in front of XL, but we’re pretty explicitly told he’s fond of frequently shape shifting based on his mood and whim, and then it’s pretty well ignored for most of the story. I’m looking for any recs that show Hua Cheng earning/showing off his faceless shapeshifter reputation. I’m looking for stories where hua Cheng is only consistently recognizable by his bells. If you don’t know of any like that then just some where he shape shifts beyond his “Hot guy og form”, or “ hot guy younger form” at least more than once.

This one might be tough to find anything for.😅 But I’d be grateful for anything you know of.

Hmm, that's a tough one. I couldn't really find anything about the bells but here's a couple fics I hope you enjoy:

--

Husband Robes by Linisen (T, 1k, HuaLian, Boyfriend T-shirt only make it HuaLian, Post-Canon, Spoilers for the novels, Implied Sexual Content, scaring the heavenly realm while being domestic, HC living his best dead life, XL too let's be honest, Silly silly, eternal husbands, Fluff, Established HuaLian) this one doesn't have shapeshifitng aspect in it but it does feature the bells

On Our Way to Fall by etymologyplayground (T, 6k, HuaLian, Fluff, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Making Out, Humor, Intimacy, Shapeshifting)

Shook by Sheer Atrocity by crowdedcafe (E, 3k, HuaLian, PWP, Demon Sex, Shapeshifting, Biting, Finger Sucking, Painplay, Rimming, Riding, Rough Sex, ft. hua chengs funky demon dick)

Pulse Points by fullmetalpotterhead (G, 1k, HuaLian, Post-Canon, Fluff, Shapeshifting, Heartbeats, lazy kisses, XL is so in love with his husband, HC wants to be warm for his husband, Nonsexual intimacy)

on trusting foxes by huacheng (G, HuaLian, Shapeshifting, Fluff)

cosmetics by marquisguyun (G, <1k, HuaLian, Nail Polish, Shapeshifting)

house finch hua cheng by periwinkleblossom (G, 1k, HuaLian, Modern, Shapeshifting, hualian are in love, Fluff, Afternoon Cuddles, finch HC, Mild Hurt/Comfort, reassurance and cuddles, HC's self worth issues)

Ever-changing Faces, Unwavering Devotion by fullmetalpotterhead (G, 1k, HuaLian, Fluff, Post-Canon, Hualian’s typical overlap of worship and love, Shapeshifting)

A Pesky Pest by moonlight_goose (T, 6k, FX & HC & MQ, HuaLian, Shapeshifting, Bickering, Fox Hua Cheng, Humor, Shapeshifting HC, There is no peace for FX and MQ when XL's husband exists, Post-Canon)

--

~A

[catboybiologist]

1 month HRT update and journal thingy!

So as I said in my pinned post, I'm gonna be doing a monthly kind of progress check on HRT. Well, it's been 32 days, so here it is! Here's some measurements of interest:

But, I found that the raw measurements, and a single "other column" wasn't sufficient to really catalogue my experience. So I wrote a long, probably overly detailed account of some of the things I've experienced in the past month.

And holy shit, what a month it's been.

So first off, lets start with what’s not happening. Some good, some bad. I think I missed the skin softness gene or something. I’ve really noticed no change in skin texture, and that’s often cited as the first noticeable physical change from HRT. My skin was somewhat soft before, but nothing like the transfemmes I know irl, so this was a bit disappointing. But in all honesty, it’s not that big of a deal.

The other thing that I haven’t noticed yet is a reduced aerobic capacity or physical ability. I’m sure this will come in time, but the interesting thing here is that one of my main physical activities, freediving, is actually a far more direct measurement of aerobic capacity than most others. I can’t do this in nearly a consistent enough way to actually log it, but my casual breath hold times in the couple of times I’ve been freediving since starting HRT haven’t changed. On a fairly standard dive, I usually stay down 60-70 seconds, and that’s still true. With good prep and good air conservation on the bottom (I like to hold onto rocks and kelp, and stay motionless while looking around lol), I can get 90 seconds or beyond (I don’t like pushing it). Part of the problem is that so much of this is variable, and is highly dependent on how good my equipment prep is that day (insulation and weighting), water conditions (cold and rough=more energy=shorter dives), and my boy physiology (how much I’ve eaten, caffeine intake, etc). But in general, I haven’t noticed major physical fitness changes yet. 

Weight gain has been intermittent. I’ve always been a bit swingy on my weight, and can easily go +/- 5lbs in no time at all. At one point, I was 4lbs over my pre-HRT weight (3 week interval), but now I’m down to 1 pound over. My waist is slightly thinner than it was pre-HRT, but that seems to be normal fluctuation. Where did the extra 1-3lbs go? We’ll get to that, LOL.

My waist measurement hasn’t changed, but anecdotally, I do think there’s changes going on there. The 43 inches measurement is still at my widest point, around my thighs (which have always been pretty good). Now, however, I’m noticing what seems to be some growth on areas that aren’t covered by the exact circle I’m using to measure that. My butt seems slightly bigger, although I could just be lying to myself. Time will tell.

Onto the stuff that has changed!

Mood. Oh my god mood. My resting state is no longer a crackling misery. I don’t think I was ever suicidal because of dysphoria alone, but I was certainly pushed to that point far, far easier when it was a contributing factor. I also just… didn’t enjoy anything about my body. When I was happy, it was a distraction. Now, it’s already much better. I still don’t like my body. I got a long way to go. But, I’m seeing progress, and it’s been incredible.

Emotions overall have been more intense. I’ve had a couple of downswings, and I get misty eyed easier. I haven’t had a proper cry yet, though. I get excited about things again, which was a COMPLETELY dead feeling. And I have also gotten angry at some things, which is also something I killed as a teenager because I was scared of where it took me. It hasn’t been as uncontrollable as I expected, however, and the negative emotions I’m experiencing more viscerally have been immensely cathartic. 

            And then, there's the big one. Hopefully that's literal. And that's breast growth. Almost immediately I noticed some kind of perking up, but no breast bud formation and no immediate growth. At about week 2, I was able to feel the distinct disks of breasts buds under my nipples, and my bust size started increasing. Now, at 4.5 weeks in, my bust size is 1.5 inches larger than it was pre-HRT.

           This is ludicrously fast. As in, so fast it has me questioning if I'm actually intersex or something. I think my E levels will be enlightening.

I really, REALLY don’t want to get too hopeful. But overall, if some of these trends continue… I’m gonna get a LOT curvier. Honestly, my ideal body would be pretty tight and trim… but I’m fucking estatic anyways. I’m just really, really hoping that the breast growth trend continues, and also that the tiny observations I’ve made about a bigger butt and thinner waist are actually real. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to boymode like this LMAO.

There’s also the opposite fear: if my estrogen levels are too high, it could signal the end of “puberty” too early. It’s looking like a possibility, but I gotta wait until next week for my levels check.

There’s one final set of observations I wanna put here, but y’all gotta not be weird about it LOL. I WILL block you and erase this part if you treat this as anything more than impartial observations about myself. Got it? Good. NSFW warning for the next bit.

I want to make some remarks on libido and erogenous sensitivity in general, because that has also been one of the most notable changes.

First off, I heard so many stories about HRT killing libido. Holy fuck, this has not been true for me. I’m going crazy sometimes LOL. I absolutely have a somewhat higher libido on average, but its already changed the way its expressed itself.

First off, my entire body is more sensitive to erogenous soft touch. The right kind of touch and care on my waist will feel very similar to more traditional erogenous zones. I’ve NEVER had this before, and was completely blindsided by it. I’m absolutely fascinated by what neural change caused that, but its really cool even if I don’t know the underlying explanation.

Second off, my libido spikes and hot flashes sometimes. I think this is pretty typical of anyone going under a hormonal change, and tbh I’m not surprised.

Third off is the weirdest one, and something that I’ve asked other transfemmes about, and none have been able to answer. My chest sensitivity seems to be going through very distinct mini-cycles, on the approximate span of time being one full “cycle” per week. Essentially, when I started HRT, my chest first got very sore, itchy, and sensitive to sources of pain and itchiness. It stayed like that for a few days, and then all sensitivity to the area cut out. My nipples pre-HRT were always more sensitive than other cis men, and in this phase, they were actually less sensitive than they were pre HRT. This lasted another couple of days… and then there was a period of massively increased erogenous sensitivity. Soft touches made me wild, and I started wearing  bra not for the support, but to block my shirt from rubbing against them and distracting me. Holy FUCK, this phase is insane. And then after that, they went back to sore again, and then dead again, and then erogenous again. Right now, I’m in the erogenous “phase” of what I think is the fourth cycle here since I started HRT. I have no fucking clue what’s going on. It’s not the period that some trans women report getting, its not a monthly thing. It might just be my body adjusting strangely to new hormones in general, but yeah. Its weird, bc it seems like a pretty unique thing. 

So yeah. That’s a journal thing. I had a LOT more thoughts about HRT starting beyond just the initial measurements, because so much hit me way faster than I thought it would, so I wanted to write something long form. I think I’m going to write something similar each month along with my measurements update, but I expect future writing to be much, much shorter. It’s been incredible so far, but I’m guessing less will be novel- I think things will only be different when I change aspects of my HRT regimen. We’ll see.

[raithwithwings57]

WIP rough draft Stucky fic where they both go down in the plane together

Just posting some bits and pieces because I have so many unfinished Stucky fics in the wings and I want to show them off a bit and I've not posted anything of my fics in months so, yeah I'm making several posts like this. I do intend to finish these out and post them on ao3 at some point, and if y'all really like any of these, let me know.

Bucky had always wanted to see the future. He’d dreamed about it, read about it, listened to the radio shows about it, dragged his best friend to science fairs he’d not been terribly interested in, gone to those free college lectures where professors pontificated about advancement. He loved the future, he wanted it, he read the technology journals and gushed to Steve over the new artists and their styles. Bucky was always looking forward.

Steve was always looking back. He was a man of the past. A man of possibilities the same way that Bucky was, and yet a man who saw the possibilites like missed opportunies, a reason for pennance rather than hopefullness. Maybe it was the Catholic guilt that Steve carried around, maybe it was his dead war hero dad, or later, his dead nurse mother. Maybe it was being small and weak and having something to prove (no matter how much he claimed he didn’t). Steve liked the old art, the history, the classic literature and the old architecture. He delighted in sitting for hours and sketching old buildings. He memorized all the old prayers and recited them in Latin with a fervor and consistancy that seemed to Bucky beyond just religous, though he didn’t have any other word for it. Steve lingered at history lectures and in muesums looking at marble statues made by the greats. He went to the old graveyards and lingered over the plain stones of soldiers.

Bucky and Steve couldn’t be more different, but they couldn’t have been more the same. And even if one looked forward and the other looked back, they always did it together. Balanced each other out, had interesting long conversations in the dark when they couldn’t afford to have candles or lamps to burn in the night. Or when they huddled close on one bed for warmth in the depth of winter. They could look both forward and back and not stumble, not forget anything important, because they did it together. Steve and Bucky. To the end of the line. Looking out for each other.

Steve would probably not live to see much past the other side of thirty. That was what the doctors had said when he was born, and they’d always maintained it. Bucky couldn’t help but think that Steve didn’t look forward because he didn’t know how. That he saw himself a bit like a still living corpse, or a ghost drifting through this world of the living. Because Steve would never live to see the future. Bucky wasn’t sure he would live to see the future either if Steve died before he got there. He didn’t try not to think about it, because he wouldn’t do himself the disservice of the lie. So he did think about it. Steve was his person, and Bucky wanted his person with him when he was admiring the future. If he was Catholic like Steve he would have begged and prayed.

However Bucky didn’t believe, and he wouldn’t do himself the disservice of that lie either. Nor disrespect something Steve held in such high esteem by blasphemy toward it.

But for all that Bucky wanted to see the future, he’d never really thought that he would. But he did. Oh how he did. Bucky saw far too much of the future.

The ice was rushing up to meet them, and Bucky was facinated, transfixed. Steve’s hands were on the controls, pushing the plane down into the water. They were going to die, and they both had a few moments to know it. To maybe say something, if they had been the kind of people that left things unsaid. But they were neither of them foolish enough to leave things unsaid. To the end of the line. And the end of the line had come. Bucky had seen his future, and Steve had seen his past. And now they were going to die together. Steve wouldn’t see the other side of thirty after all, and neither would Bucky.

There was nothing to say. Nothing at all. Bucky had seen the future in Hydra’s weapons and the experiments on his best friend and on Johan Schmitt. Steve had seen the past in the horrors of war and the power of becoming a hero that would surely outlive them both.

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

so i've seen a post that says that you can't say that karna gets treated better than arjuna, and that karna is haunted by arjuna in the narrative. I can't reblog the post but I respectfully disagree with it and I'm going to explain why.

the first point is fate/apocrypha. in this, karna compares siegfried to an opponent he once knew during their duel. in the post, it's argued that he projected siegfried onto arjuna and that's now his main interest throughout the series. however, karna's main interest in the series isn't just seigfried (although he did want to fight him again, which is why he fights sieg) but rather to have strong battles in general. it's also ignoring his confrontations with vlad, his decision to stay with the red faction and why (to protect the master he is no longer contracted to) and his interactions with Semiramis and Amakusa. his comparison of siegfried with arjuna, while significant, is not so massive that you can accurately say that it negates every other aspect of his characterization in the story. the most important thing it achieved is that it makes him very interested in fighting him, and when he decides he wants siegfried as a rival and the saber dies he later challenges sieg as he can channel the warrior. its disingenuous to say that arjuna is haunting karna's narrative when he doesnt appear at all beyond a single offhand remark.

the next point is that arjuna gets the costumes. this one is just wrong? karna has two costumes, although i hesitate to call the second one a proper costume. Burning Garment of Three Gods is in fact the first free story costume you receive in fgo, unlike most other costumes which you receive through limited time events, and the glasses costume is from an event where he again gets a (minor) role. while both arjuna's alts have a costume each that doesnt negate karna having costumes?

the next thing is a bit rough. 'arjuna gets the character arcs in fgo.' this one is true. its also because arjuna is the fgo original and karna had 2 previous fate entries to receive characterization in, so him receiving it was less of an required focus than it was for a brand new character who had nothing. at the same time, i do agree that karna needs to have more done with him in the game.

the next one is also very rough. in it, the op mentions that arjuna got a lostbelt that karna received poor treatment in. I do agree that how karna was treated, namely being dead for most of the chapter and only brought back for one big battle before being killed again was very poor handling. however....arjuna alter was also really poorly handled? he was offscreen for most of the lostbelt, his motivations were both incredibly unclear and required you to have played the interlude of another ssr, he was given no depth of character or internal consistency, and they didnt give you any greater understanding of who he was or why he behaved the way he did. he is generally agreed among most fate fans to be the most weakly written of the lostbelt kings, and its in part because rather than tell us anything about arjuna's life, indian history or mythology, or the mahabharata, they once again retrod the karna vs arjuna plotline. just because he's the lostbelt king doesnt mean he was done better than karna-if anything, his treatment was potentially worse because while karna's one dimensional handling set him up as a noble hero, arjuna alter's set him up as an unreasonable villain. saying that karna is used as a crutch for arjuna requires also acknowledging how arjuna is constantly and consistently used to enhance karna since the minute he was added to fgo, which is how you get titles he was never called by like 'the endowned hero' (it may be a poor translation of one of his actual names, Dhanañjaya, which means one who conquered wealth and gold but i doubt it) and why one of the first things that's mentioned whenever arjuna shows up is that he killed karna, when thats only one of his achievements and not even the most notable one.

which brings me to my next point: karna is handled one dimensionally in fgo. but it is always as a misunderstood hero, and arjuna is primarily handled as his supporting cast, whether as a jealous villan or long suffering straightman. if you are going to show frustration at people who are glad arjuna got content independently of karna, you need to acknowledge that out of the 23 odd events and story chapters arjuna has showed up in, only around 5 have not also included karna and out of the 8 that arjuna alter has been in, only 4 have not had karna in them. karna has been in 27 events, and 9 have not included arjuna-its not a large amount, but its still the same amount that arjuna and his alter have put together without him. Arjuna in fate, especially at the time of his creation, existed as a supplementary unit to further enhance karna's story as a hero who was oppressed by others, which is how you get things like this

while both their profiles have a heavy focus on the other, karna's talks about his actual life and history to a far higher degree than arjuna's does, while arjuna's fully devolves into his resentment and dislike of karna. he was first as foremost written as 'karna's obsessive rival' to further expand karna and karna specifically, and the later focus on trying to give him more depth was because he was popular and they wanted to do more with him. there was no consideration for who he was historically or his real personality or feats, there was no consideration for what he actually was- they wrote him as a person who would, in his own words 'become the darkness' to karna's light simply for the sake of it

THAT is why fans of arjuna want more content of him independently of karna. is it true that karna has his own issues with his writing? yes! but that doesnt change the fact that for a very long time, arjuna has been twisted from his mythogical origins in fate to make him someone that he simply isnt, and thats what people want to see less of. no amount of poorly executed ssrs or events they both get shortchanged in to emphasis them hitting each other with sticks will change the base issue with arjuna's writing until fate acknowledges this.

and to be clear, i dont think its wrong to be upset that karna doesnt get a lot of in depth expansion in fgo. but that isn't the fault of arjuna, and it's really unfair to try and say that with how often arjuna has been used as a plot device to show how unfairly biased people are at karna

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 12

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Cas and Astarion have come to an agreement: she will wander off into the woods, all alone and far from camp. Then Astarion will hunt he will hunt her. And when he catches her, he can do whatever he wants.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 4.9k

Chapter Tags: Smut, primal play, predator/prey, light dom/sub, consensual non-consent, fingering, penetrative sex, hair pulling, rough sex, implied breeding kink, he calls her a "good girl".

Note: This chapter has already been posted as an excerpt. Posting again just for consistency!

The grass and moss under Astarion’s boots didn’t make a sound as he crept through the sparse, ancient forest that bordered the river. Pale moonlight trickled through the branches and leaves above, casting the world in silvery-blue light. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted over the chorus of crickets. The summer heat had lingered into the night, comfortable and warm. Perfect for a night spent under the stars.

It reminded him of one of his first conversations with Cas. The one where he told her she was a valuable ally and he wanted them to stick together. At the time, they were just some pretty words he said in the interest of self-preservation. He never anticipated his flattery would become reality.

Oh, how things had changed.

Though his little game with Cas had begun the moment she left camp, he decided to give her a bit of a head start. Just to keep things interesting. With his vampiric senses, he would have no trouble at all finding her in the forest. When he really focused, he could detect the faint scent of her blood. And when he was close enough, he could even hear the sound of her heart beating in her chest.

Even though it was just a game, he wanted to give her the real experience. Or something close to it. Plus, he wanted the satisfaction of hunting her down. Of overpowering her and making her his. Though it was all just pretend, the feelings were real. At that moment, he felt powerful. Like the apex predator that a vampire was meant to be.

Cas had freely given him that power, for no other reason than she liked him. Not because he had seduced her, or frightened her, or coerced her in any way. Cas genuinely liked him. It was a little difficult to wrap his head around, if he were being completely honest with himself. It wasn’t often that he had the chance to actually get to know someone beyond superficial pleasantries. He hadn’t had the opportunity to make a real friend in… well, since he was turned into a vampire really.

More importantly, Cas had placed her trust in him. Asking him to hunt her, even for a game, was literally placing her life in his hands. Not to mention her pleasure, but he was certain he had that part handled. Controlling himself when he bit her was another matter. He was reasonably certain he could hold back. Probably.

No. He had to hold back.

Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do.

He caught the scent of her on the breeze and followed it. It took him to the edge of the forest, where the trees thinned out as they met the riverbanks. Croaking frogs and the gentle rush of lazy rapids mixed with the sounds of the forest. The noise was a good thing. It meant she was less likely to hear him.

Cas had said she would pack up some things before she wandered off into the forest, and it looked like she made good on her promise. She had opened a bedroll and laid it out flat, making it big enough to keep both of them off of the bare ground. A folded blanket, one he had seen in her tent before, was draped over her bag. Astarion had no idea what she had packed in the bag, but he could only hope it was something fun.

But knowing Cas, the only things she brought would be boring and practical. Was it strange that he was starting to appreciate that about her? She was always prepared, but not to the point where it was excessive. It wasn’t a trait he typically thought of as attractive, but he definitely liked it when it came to her.

Since the day he met her, Cas had always been the one keeping everything together. In fact, he couldn’t think of many times Cas wasn’t working. Except for when she was with him. It had been constant planning, prepping, following leads, traveling, and fighting. And she bore the brunt of it. She was the de facto leader of their little group, yet most of their companions fought her on each decision she made.

Sometimes, when she thought no one was looking, her mask broke a little. Frustration and exhaustion would quietly seep through the cracks. Yet, she would always have it fixed back up by the time someone needed her. And someone always needed her.

Even at that moment, she still worked, making sure they had a comfortable place to spend the night. Being responsible and taking care of them.

Well, that was about to change.

Tonight, Astarion would be the one to take care of her. Once their game began in earnest, she wouldn’t have the chance to think about a damn thing.

That was one of the reasons why she wanted him to hunt her in the first place, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just for his own pleasure, but for hers as well. She wanted to relinquish her power, even just for a bit, and he was more than happy to take it. He would take away her decisions, her choices, and her responsibility.

Tonight, she belonged to him. And the only thing she had to worry about was whether or not she could keep up.

Slowly, he closed in on her. Inching closer and closer until his heightened senses could detect her heartbeat. Steady and calm. She was sitting only a few feet away, and he could easily tackle her to the ground right then and there. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted the hunt.

Taking a risk, he used the little magic he was capable of to create a minor illusion. Just the sound of a twig snapping and some footsteps some thirty feet to his right. As perceptive as she was, there was a good chance she would see right through it. But that didn’t matter. As long as it distracted her for a moment.

Her head whipped toward the sound immediately. Her whole body went still as her heartbeat picked up speed. Startled, but excited.

A little smile crossed her lips as she got to her feet and followed the sound. With her back turned to him, he watched the gentle sway of her hips as she walked. She was still wearing the same outfit she was at the party, which was a little unfortunate. Tight leather leggings and laced up boots were not the easiest articles of clothing to remove in the heat of the moment.

Oh well. That wouldn’t be a problem for him.

He casted another illusion a few feet away from the first one, making the sound come from the opposite side of a thick tree. If she wanted to investigate it, she would have to go around, which would give him the perfect opportunity to close in on her without being seen.

When he was close enough to touch her, he created one more auditory illusion. Footsteps coming from just out of her line of sight. As soon as she moved to follow the sound, Astarion struck.

One arm darted around her waist while his hand covered her mouth, muffling her startled yelp. The sound of her pulse roared in his ears. He hauled her back against his chest, holding tight, and his lips brushed against her neck as he said, “Hello, darling.”

She had said she was going to fight him, so it shouldn’t have surprised him when she did just that. Cas twisted in his grip. Hard. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but it took him aback enough that she was able to wrench herself free. The movement almost made him lose his balance as he stumbled back, catching himself on the tree.

And Cas took off running.

Well, if that was how she wanted to do it, he was more than happy to play along.

The urge to give chase was strong, but he resisted. Cas was faster than him. Not only that, his little stumble had allowed her to put a good amount of distance between them as she ran deeper into the forest. Keeping his senses honed in on her, he slipped into the shadows to follow.

Whenever he hunted, it was like a more animalistic part of his brain took over. Something more primitive. It made all of his worries vanish as he turned his focus on one thing: his prey. The need to capture and consume. And Cas was the most captivating sort of prey a vampire could ask for.

He considered using the minor illusion again, but Cas was unlikely to fall for it unless she wanted to play exceptionally dumb. But he liked that she was making him think. Making him work for it. It would make it all that much sweeter when he finally had her under him. His fangs ached and his cock twitched at the thought of having her the way he wanted. Fangs in her throat while he fucked her.

That was a goal worth working toward.

It didn’t take long for him to find her again. The smell of her blood had invaded all of his senses, and he couldn’t help but follow it to the source. This time, she was in a better spot for an ambush. A small clearing in the midst of some brambles and wide trees. There was a clear look of ‘where did he go?’ on her face as she glanced about, searching for him.

Staying silent and still, he listened to the sounds of crickets and the rapid beat of her heart. Letting her anticipation grow. Letting her wonder when he was going to strike next. And from where.

With the way she was looking around, it would be difficult to get close without another distraction. Or a potion of invisibility. He mentally slapped himself for not bringing one. Sure, some might call using an invisibility potion for this sort of purpose a waste, but he certainly didn’t.

Instead, he decided on a different approach. Since it was only a game, he knew Cas would eventually backtrack to look for him. So he decided to wait for her, his back pressed up against the trunk of a tree and his ears tuned for the first sign of her approach.

Thankfully, he did not have to wait long. He shifted around the tree quietly, staying out of view as Cas walked past. Completely unaware of him, by the looks of it. Once her back was to him, he crept in closer and closer. Until he could hear the soft sound of her breath and smell the lavender of her soap.

This time, he wouldn’t let her get away.

Cas had no time to react when he hooked his arms around her waist, trapping one of her arms to her side, and dropped his weight, toppling both of them into the grass. Before she could squirm away, he rolled her onto her front and pinned her beneath him. Capturing his prey.

“Get off me,” Cas hissed, the side of her face pressed into the grass as a playful glimmer lit her eye. She bucked back into him, trying to loosen his hold, but only succeeding in grinding her backside against him.

Astarion caught both of her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head. Forcing her to submit to him. Already, his cock strained against his trousers and he leaned forward, letting her feel it. With his free hand, he swept her hair away from her neck and wrapped it around his fist. His lips brushed against her ear when he spoke, “Is that the best you can do?”

“What do you want from me?” Cas bared her blunt little teeth as she continued her futile struggle, her words were almost a growl even as her pupils were blown wide with lust.

His lips trailed from her ear and down her neck, nipping at her skin as he went. A threat and a promise. But not yet breaking the skin. “I think you know what I want, love,” he said and licked up her throat to the corner of her jaw. “Why don’t you be a good girl and just let me have it? Make it easier for both of us.”

When she tried to wriggle out from under him, he tightened his grip on her hair. She hissed at the sudden pull against her scalp. “Let me go,” she said. “Or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” he said, his voice low, heated, and taunting. He had completely overpowered her. Even if she were fighting for real, she’d have a hard time throwing him off.

Cas sucked in a harsh breath when his thick length pressed against her core from behind. “Or I’ll scream.”

“Oh, my dear,” he said and his lips moved down her throat until he reached the juncture where her neck connected with her shoulder. Avoiding the use of his fangs, the blunt edges of his teeth clamped down in a soft bite and a shiver coursed through her. Then he whispered in her ear. “I can definitely make you scream.”

With his hand wrapped in her hair, he tipped her head back and crashed his lips onto hers. He kissed her possessively, roughly, claiming her with his mouth. An eager moan escaped her throat as she met the kiss with equal ferocity. Pressing deeper, her silky tongue brushed against his. Needing. Wanting. The taste of her mouth was something he could never get enough of. He couldn’t help the low groan that emerged from his chest.

He tore himself away with a dark laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Cas helplessly twisted against him again. “Bite me,” she snarled, still playing the role of his prey so perfectly.

“Soon, darling.” His tongue darted out and brushed over her rapidly fluttering pulse. “But first, you’re going to come for me.”

“No I won’t,” she challenged as she writhed beneath him, making him grow even harder.

He released her wrists, but wrapped her hair around his hand once more with a less than gentle tug. A wordless command. Up.

Obediently, she rose to her elbows and rubbed the taut curve of her ass against his stiff cock. Taunting him. There was suddenly far too much clothing between them. He wanted to feel her skin against his. To bury himself in her warmth. He thrusted against her once, trying to relieve the ache, and drew a soft moan from her lips as she met his movement.

Astarion’s hand traced her rib cage, feeling the rise and fall of her panting breaths. Eager for him. Excited. His fingertips hooked around the hem of her shirt and he pulled it up as far as it would go, baring her breasts to the warm night air. He leaned forward and pressed his lips between her shoulder blades as his finger skimmed over the soft curve of her breast.

“You don’t really want to get away, do you, darling?” he asked as he brushed his thumb over her hardened nipple. He pinched the sensitive peak between his fingers, earning a sharp gasp as she arched into his palm. Desperately trying to get closer. An almost sinister chuckle passed his lips as he whispered, “I think you wanted to be caught.”

“No,” Cas said, even as her cheeks flushed and lips parted in a breathless pant.

Hard muscles twitched under his hand as he trailed down the flat expanse of her stomach until he reached the waistband of her leggings. He pulled the ties at front, allowing them to loosen enough for him to slide his fingers between the leather and the soft lace of her panties. When the tips of his fingers brushed over her clit through the fabric, she arched into him with a gasp. He circled the sensitive nub, teasing her. Making her want more.

He dragged her panties to the side, allowing him access to the slick heat between her legs. Already so ready for him. His cock begged for attention at the touch, wanting nothing more than to be inside her already. But that would have to wait.

With two fingers, he eased into her and pressed the heel of his palm to her clit. Her hips grinded greedily into his touch. Desperate for more friction.

“You’re so wet you’re dripping, love,” he said and curled his fingers inside her, loving the way she clenched around him. Wanting him deeper. Closer.

And he ached to give her what she wanted. She was his prey, but he wanted to make her feel good. He wanted to give her what she needed. What she so desperately craved.

It would have been all too easy to turn things around on her. To give into his vampiric nature and just take what he wanted. But he wouldn’t do that to her. Never to her. Cas had become special to him. In such a short amount of time, she had become so important to him that the mere idea of hurting her like that sent a lance of pain through his chest.

Astarion wanted — no, he needed her to know that he could take care of her. That putting her trust in him would never be a mistake.

Slipping from his role for just a moment, he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Let me know if I’m being too rough,” he said as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, the heel of his palm rocking over her clit as he brought her closer to the edge. They had their safeword, and he trusted her to use it, but he still felt the need to check in since he didn’t know what sort of experience she had with these things. He didn’t want to go too far.

“You can be rougher,” she replied, gasping as she rode his hand.

A little smirk pulled at Astarion’s lips and he gave her hair a sharp tug, eliciting a startled yelp. “Good,” he said. Then, without warning, he bit down on her shoulder.

Cas renewed her fight, squirming beneath him as his fangs nicked her skin. Tiny pinpricks of blood welled from the site and he lapped them up with his tongue. The first taste of it was like an aphrodisiac, and he groaned in raw satisfaction. It was potent and delicious. And it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, but this wasn’t the bite he would feed from.

No, he was saving that moment for later.

The heel of his palm grinded against her clit as his fingers curved in such a way that made her whimper with pleasure. The movement of her hips grew erratic as she fucked his fingers, her eyes screwing shut and her breaths harsh as she neared her peak.

“Come on my hand, darling,” he said against her neck. “Show me how much you love being my prey.”

“No!” The protest turned into a whine as he quickened his pace, pushing her further and further until her walls fluttered around his fingers. She came with a sharp cry, her whole body shuddering beneath him as she canted her hips.

Pulling her hair back, his mouth found hers, drinking in her moans like she was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His experienced fingers soothed her through the last few tremors of her orgasm, his palm still putting firm pressure on her clit as his fingers stroked deep inside her.

When her breathing evened out, he withdrew, his fingers glistening with her arousal. He licked her taste from his skin like it was honey. The flush across her cheeks deepened at his lewd display and his cock twitched in response.

Astarion loosened his grip on her hair, running his fingers over her scalp to soothe her skin. With one hand between her shoulder blades, he guided her down, her chest against the ground and her ass on display for him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and pulled them down to her thighs. Nothing but a pair of black lace panties shielded her sex. He twisted the material in his hand and pulled it sharply against her overly sensitive clit, making her gasp.

He leaned forward and licked the shell of her ear. “Now,” he said as he drew her panties tighter, “tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she said, finally surrendering to him. The words ignited a flame in his chest. Even if it was just the heat of the moment, even if she would take it back come sunrise, right then she belonged to him. And that was all that mattered.

Cas arched her back, grinding herself against his erection. “Astarion, please,” she begged. “I need you in me.”

Fuck, if he didn’t need that too. He yanked the black lace down her legs and drank in the sight of her, bent over and moaning, her pussy pink and glistening for him. The woman before him knew what he was, knew the kind of man and monster he was, and accepted him. Trusted him.

And he wasn’t sure if he would ever have someone like that again.

A shudder coursed through her at the metallic click of his belt buckle. His own hand shook from raw desire as he pulled his cock from his trousers, a little bead of pre-come already leaking from the tip.

“You want this, darling?” he asked as he dragged the head of his cock over her swollen folds, slick with her arousal. He pressed the tip where she wanted it most, teasing the entrance, and she tilted her hips in an attempt to get closer. “Then I’ll give you every last inch.”

He shoved in deep in one hard, brutal thrust that buried him to the hilt, his fingers digging into her hips as he forced her to meet the movement.

Her mouth fell open and her hands clutched at the grass beneath her. “Yes,” she murmured as he slammed into her again. “Fuck me.”

Cas had wanted it rough, so that was exactly what he gave her. Snapping his hips against her ass, he fucked her with bruising thrusts. With each one she moaned, begging him for more. Loving the way he pounded into her like he was a fucking animal.

And he loved it too. Emotion threatened to well up in his chest, but he swallowed it down, focusing on the sensations. Wanting to absorb every sight and sound and commit it to memory. She was so bloody perfect for him, and he couldn’t fathom how he got lucky enough for her to fall right into his lap.

Astarion leaned over, bracing one hand in the grass beside her while the other held her throat, his mouth pressing rough kisses from her shoulder to her neck. His teeth scraped over the sensitive flesh of her throat, fangs throbbing with the need to sink into her. To claim her in every way that he could. His tongue darted over the red marks he left on her skin. “I’m going to bite you now.”

“Do it.” Her back arched as she angled her hips just right, welcoming him as deep as he could go. “Just don’t stop.”

“Touch yourself,” he said as he kissed a spot high on her neck. A place she couldn’t easily hide even with the highest collar. That was the exact spot he wanted to bite her. And she would wear the mark like a badge of honor, on display for the whole world to see. Marking her as his.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she obeyed. Her fingers delved between her legs, her pussy tightening around him as she worked over her clit. Her moans grew louder as her pleasure continued to rise. And he could only hope that the pleasure outweighed the pain of his bite.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her ear and lowered his mouth to her throat. Saliva pooled in his mouth as the urge to bite became too strong to resist.

A soft gasp of pain was the only sound she made when his fangs pierced her skin. The movement of his hips slowed until he was rocking into her gently with languid, shallow thrusts as not to dislodge his fangs. The taste of her blood made him groan. It was decadent. Intoxicating even. It warmed his body, intensifying everything.

It wasn’t until Cas started moaning again did he allow himself to fully sink into the feeling. Her warm pussy clenched around him as he drank deeply, and it was the most extraordinary feeling in the world. Fucking someone he cared about while they freely offered their blood— it was a feeling he couldn’t even begin to describe. It was a revelation. A long held fantasy that had finally come true. And he didn’t know if he could ever have enough.

Closing his eyes tight, he tried to maintain control even as his pleasure rose and sudden affection surged in his chest. Cas trusted him not to go too far. She was giving him a gift. A wonderful gift. And he didn’t want to risk her regretting it.

With that in mind, it was easy to remove his fangs from her throat. He sucked and licked at the twin puncture wounds he left behind, drinking in her blood in deep, even pulls as she writhed beneath him. “You’re doing so well, darling,” he murmured as he lavished her neck.

Her panting breaths grew louder and closer together. Her cry turned into a breathless moan as she came with his name on her lips, her inner walls spasming around his cock as he fucked her. Faster. Deeper. Chasing his own release.

All thought seemed to vanish from his mind. It was just him and her. The feel of her body. The taste of her blood. The sound of her moans as he rocked into her. It was euphoric. Nothing but raw sensation and primal need.

White-hot pleasure flashed through him, shooting down his spine as his thrusts lost all rhythm. He sucked her neck hard, blood coating his tongue as he buried himself in her. The sound he made was more animal than man as his orgasm coursed through him like a wildfire. Burning hot and out of control. Powerful spasms wracked his whole body as he spilled himself deep within her.

When his nearly agonizing ecstasy faded, he kissed her bloodied neck before he pulled out of her. His come dripped down her leg and he watched, filled with some deep, primitive satisfaction. He rolled Cas onto her back, needing to be face to face with her. To check in on how she was feeling.

She responded by looping her arms around his neck and dragging him into a luxurious kiss. Her body still trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and he couldn’t stop his lips from smiling against hers. “You should let me wash the blood out of my mouth first, love,” he chided as he swiped away a bit of red from her lips with his thumb.

“Worth it,” she said as she laid back against the grass, a brilliant smile on her face that made his stomach do a little flip.

He cupped her face with his hand and she leaned into his touch. His eyes went to the fresh bite mark on her neck, and it wasn’t bleeding nearly as much as it did last time. In fact, it almost seemed like it was already starting to mend. Interesting. Perhaps he had gotten better at biting somehow? He didn’t know, nor could he bring himself to care.

Turning his attention back to her face, he ran his fingers over her scalp lightly, soothing the skin. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

“I liked it,” Cas said as she played with his hair, a dopey smile still lingering on her lips. “Though I am a little disappointed you didn’t spank me.”

Astarion raised his brow at that. ��Are you now?”

In an odd surge of affection, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before getting to his feet. He took a second to fix his clothes and Cas did the same. But before she could finish tying up the front of her leggings, he bent down and scooped her over his shoulder. “We should fix that,” he said and gave her ass a hard slap, eliciting a startled yelp, and started back towards where she had set up the bedroll.

“You don’t have to carry me all the way back,” she said, not fighting at all to get away. “It’s a long walk.”

He smacked her ass again. “You’re my prey and I caught you. I can do what I like.”

“Oh? And what else would you like to do?”

Everything. As long as it was with her. He mentally shook off the sudden thought. Where the hells had that come from? He swallowed, suddenly very glad that she couldn’t see his face from her current position.

He rubbed his hand over the curve of her backside as he walked, thinking about how to respond. Did he want to be honest with her? It ultimately worked out well for him last time. Giving her a little squeeze, he decided to go for it. “How would you feel about getting cleaned up and taking the rest of the night… slower?” Feeling a little vulnerable at his request, he added flippantly, “I want to enjoy my trophy.”

Cas was quiet for a moment. Just the sounds of footsteps and that owl hooting somewhere deep in the forest. “I’d like that,” she said.

Suddenly, his chest got that funny feeling again. The one he didn’t want to put a name to.

But Gods, it was getting harder to ignore.

---

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[duquesah]

I've started re-watching the Venom movies recently

It got me thinking about Kayn and Rhaast's relationship in canon, and how for some odd reason Kayn is the only darkin host that wasn't corrupted immediately upon holding the weapon for the first time, and is still fighting against the corruption. Is it true that Kayn is just THAT powerful and Rhaast is the current weakest darkin? Or perhaps there's more to them than we realize?

What I think might be the case is a combination of factors mentioned previously and something else, which I'll talk about in this post so pls stay with me 🙏

Okok so, in Venom (2018) we see how Venom and Eddie meet, how at first they're really just parasite and host, but then after seeing how much they're alike Venom gives everything up. Venom was a nobody amongst the others, just like Eddie, who has lost everything previously. They achieved symbiosis because they are the same, pretty much, and they are so goddamn special that not even Riot (ha) could take them down (with some help of course, love my girl Anne).

THAT got me thinking about Hwei's voice line, the one in which he says "If you just allowed yourselves to BLEND". It's a very interesting line, we can think about some possibilities but first we discuss exactly why Kayn hasn't been corrupted yet (I know I'm rambling a bit, sorry lol)

So, it could be that he really is that powerful, he has been training since childhood (he had a pretty rough one, too). At some point Zed took him in and Kayn became a powerful weapon/tool (parallels!! Kayn being used as a weapon and Rhaast being one, literally) and with his tragic backstory and some other voice lines (this time from Swain, I believe) we know that Kayn, after all he's been through, mistakes hatred for affection, since all he knows is negative, bad things.

So Kayn is traumatized, who isn't? Well, I know for sure the darkin have a very sad past too so let's talk about them (and Rhaast, of course) next

The darkin, once ascended, fought against The Void and each other for some time. The things they've seen and been through cost them their minds, with the years they became less of who they once were, some corrupted beyond redemption and the only way to stop this war was with imprisonment, so that's what happened. Many died, with the remaining ones being sealed away in weapons. Inside their prison they cannot breathe (that's why they sound very out of breath, I was happier before knowing about that) or scream, or do anything really, it's another void, much like the first they fought.

So imagine, after years of being trapped inside a tiny space, some guy finds you and, unlike the others, there's a barrier blocking your way inside their mind. This one is different, that's for sure, but Rhaast is a darkin, he will break this host one day...

But this day seems further and further away, the barrier still strong. Could it be that Rhaast is weaker than the others, or perhaps their tactic of corrupting minds away just doesn't work on Kayn? Well, like I previously talked about, both Kayn and Rhaast have a tragic backstory. my guess is that Rhaast and the other darkin use negative emotions/memories in order to break the host's mind, the pain unbearable to them. But Kayn? Negative emotions/memories is ALL he has, all he ever had, so this method couldn't possibly be the most effective to use, right?

Kayn is stronger than most, sure, but he wasn't immediately corrupted because he is barely affected by Rhaaat's tactics, which consist of breaking the mind with bad memories and emotions, which unfortunately for him is all Kayn knows. It DOES affect him a bit, for all we know, but we can't exactly expect him to be 100% immune, he's still human 🤷‍♀️

We don't know how things are going for them currently, if anyone's winning yet. I actually don't think that's ever happening, because 1. They would break the fucking champion; 2. Is it truly a win if they're just gonna miss each other's company after? (Rhaast presumably doesn't care but that can change, I mean just look at Varus). They would be more powerful, sure, but they only have each other, and with time I think they can be stronger together, they can find a way to get what they both want AND stay together.

ANYWAY what do y'all think? I know I started talking about Venom and Eddie and ended up somewhere else entirely but I just needed to ramble about them, get some ideas in order. Also correct me if I said anything wrong lore-wise, been awhile since I've read about them

[starry-fantasies]

An Attempt to Clinically Analyze Sephiroth's Psychosis at Nibelheim

Sephiroth has fascinated me as a villain for a long time, but I’ve also struggled to “figure him out” for just as long. For all the simplicity of his villainous goals (i.e. become a god, destroy the world), it’s really the heart of his breakdown in Nibelheim that confounded me regarding his motives and the causal factors behind how he becomes what he becomes. I think Sephiroth's story can be interpreted in drastically different ways depending on how you see the explanations for his breakdown preceding the Nibelheim Incident. Not to mention, there’s the multiple retellings of the incident within the Compilation and the inconsistencies that come with it.

I’m still in the process of unraveling how to approach Sephiroth’s psychology, so this won’t be a regular analysis. Rather, this is mostly going to be a stream-of-consciousness type of piece, where I just let my thoughts flow. Definitely expect some stuff to sound rough or disjointed, and possibly some inaccurate facts due to my terrible memory (please let me know). Also, for the sake of the most updated canon, we will go with the Crisis Core version of events.

~Major FFVII and Crisis Core spoilers ahead~

Psychosis

Firstly, I want to address the clinical term that can describe what happened to Sephiroth at Nibelheim. I’ve heard people call it a mental breakdown or psychotic break, among other things. If we want to be consistent with the psychiatric language of the DSM-5, we would say that Sephiroth experienced the onset of a psychotic episode.

Psychotic episodes are a state of significant psychological disturbance that involves a loss of touch with shared reality. Historically, what we now know as psychotic episodes were once called madness or insanity. The duration of an episode affects what type of psychotic disorder would apply, but overall, psychosis can be either transient or continuous.

It’s hard to say which is the case for Sephiroth, specifically because of how his prognosis transforms pre- and post-Lifestream dip. Pre-Lifestream, it’s clear that he went into an abrupt and severe state of psychosis. Even though there were already warning signs prior to when he holed himself up in the Shinra mansion basement, Sephiroth’s behavior change still occurred in a short amount of time and marked a drastic change from the anguish and confusion he initially experienced upon first learning what Jenova is. He is experiencing a psychotic episode that marks a clear departure from his prior functioning.

Afterwards though, Sephiroth learns what Jenova truly is and makes a conscious decision to use its power and influence over the Lifestream for his own means. At this point, we can’t say that it’s a temporary condition. Not to mention, the question of how much Jenova is influencing Sephiroth also complicates how we understand Sephiroth’s psychology. At best, I would say that post-Lifestream Sephiroth is experiencing an ongoing psychotic disturbance.

Delusions

At the heart of Sephiroth’s turning point to villainy is a delusion, a fixed and false belief that is resistant to change even in the presence of contradictory evidence. Although I've seen it used a lot in casual contexts, delusions are in fact a clinical term for distorted beliefs. Essentially, delusions exist beyond reason and cannot be logically refuted. Delusions are a hallmark feature of psychosis, involving a resistance to the facts of reality that conflict with one’s beliefs.

There are several reasons that someone might develop a delusion. Obviously these reasons aren't always mutually exclusive, but I think what reason you attribute to Sephiroth's breakdown influences how you understand it.

Certain people are genetically predisposed to delusional thinking. Jenova. Injected in the womb. Supernatural prenatal development. Need I say more?

People come up with distorted ways of explaining the unexplainable. This is the type of thinking that is linked to an inclination for conspiracy theories. Sephiroth was searching for answers about his birth and origins, and with false, piecemeal information, he formed the erroneous conclusion that he was a Cetra. I wouldn't say this is the driving force behind his decision to burn down Nibelheim, but you can see the gateway to vengeance through this avenue.

People have trouble coping with life and preserving their self-esteem, therefore they use delusions to attempt to uphold it. This is the most sympathetic perspective, mainly because it boils Sephiroth down to the misunderstood savant that is mourning the loss of his self-worth. More on this later, since this is the angle I see portrayed most in Crisis Core.

People experience significant life stressors, such as low socioeconomic status, trauma, and drastic life changes that heavily influence how they perceive and understand the world. We could create a whole list of known or presumed "life stressors" in Sephiroth's life, but if we want to highlight a specific one, it would be the discovery of the Jenova Project files. It could be argued that it was deeply traumatizing to him, enough to rock his worldview.

Reasons aside, there are also several different types of delusions classified in the DSM-5. I think Sephiroth shows features of at least two types. You could say Sephiroth experienced a grandiose delusion, or what you might know as a delusion of grandeur. This is defined by the belief that one is extremely powerful or important. Sometimes it even takes on a religious bend, leading to the belief that one is omnipotent or holy. Sephiroth believed he was the last of the Cetra race, one that was more connected to and respectful of the planet compared to humanity. He was "the chosen one to rule this planet," someone exceptional and superior to everyone else.

You could also say that Sephiroth was experiencing a persecutory delusion. This is when someone believes he is "being conspired against, cheated, spied on, followed, poisoned, maliciously maligned, harassed, or obstructed in the pursuit of long-term goals." Sephiroth drew the conclusion that he had a duty to punish humanity for persecuting the ancient Cetra. He believed he had to pursue vengeance for Jenova and for Cetrakind. People with persecutory delusions tend to demonstrate significant anger and violent behavior, which also checks out with Sephiroth's subsequent decision to burn down Nibelheim.

Obviously, both the grandiose and persecutory delusions transform a bit when Sephiroth learns about Jenova's true nature as an extraterrestrial, not a Cetra. But that's a conversation for another time; remember, we're talking about the psychotic episode that became the gateway to Sephiroth's villainy. So, let's backtrack a bit and talk about how Crisis Core chose to lean into a sympathetic portrayal of Sephiroth's psychology.

Self-Concept

We still know very little about Sephiroth’s childhood and upbringing (although it looks like Ever Crisis may change that?), aside from several key facts. We know that he was born an experiment, having been injected with Jenova cells in the womb. We know he was essentially raised by Shinra and did not get to experience a normal childhood. He was known to be a prodigious fighter and was the reason that the SOLDIER program was created. As a teenager, he fought in the Wutai War and gained his status as a war hero.

This is all to say that though Sephiroth knew little of his childhood, he knew one thing for certain. He was a very good fighter, and a hero to Shinra. Sephiroth’s established self-concept revolves around this fact. He was likely praised and lauded for his wartime achievements, and even before then, we can presume that Shinra scientists noted him to be an exceptional fighter. He was the epitome of prestige and strength.

Let’s contrast that with the information he gains right before the Nibelheim Incident. When Sephiroth sees the monsters at the reactor and begins to question his connection to them, he began to mull over his identity and existence. Sephiroth knew he was unusual and exceptional even as a child, and he said so himself that he doesn't know what it was like to have parents or a hometown to speak of. Genesis then reinforces what Sephiroth feared, that he is a monster and a product of experimentation. He was told he was subhuman, repulsive, an abomination.

Sephiroth’s self-concept started as that of a prodigy, someone who is an extremely capable fighter. After the war in Wutai, he was labeled a war hero. Once he was led to believe that he was a monster, this shatters his worldview. He went from seeing himself as a prominent hero to seeing himself as subhuman. This is further driven by the fact that Sephiroth had already lacked answers about his origins and craved a sense of home, of parental warmth and connection. Because of this gap in his history, the premise that he was no more than a monster was eerily plausible. With his self-concept dramatically rocked, he was left starving for answers to what he is. This is what led him down the rabbit hole, seeking an explanation that would either tell him that he was not a monster, or that his initial self-concept can still be upheld somehow.

And thus, Sephiroth was in a vulnerable place where a grandiose or persecutory delusion can uphold his self-esteem and self-concept. If Jenova is truly the last of an ancient race, then Sephiroth is exceptional, not an abomination. If the Cetra had powers that humans didn't have, then Sephiroth was powerful, not just a monster. The delusion takes hold because it is something Sephiroth needed in order to preserve his worldview, his belief that he is special and important.

This is how Crisis Core gets you to sympathize with Sephiroth. He's painted as a lonely savant that lacked a home and a family, and so when he was told he was a monster, his self-concept was shattered and radically warped. In order for him to protect it, he needed to come up with a delusion that would uphold his understanding of the world. Sound familiar? I don't think it's a coincidence that Sephiroth's psychology here sounds parallel to Cloud's, especially since I've considered delusional disorder for them both.

It'll be a while before I gather enough thoughts to move onto how Sephiroth progressed from this state to his post-Lifestream-dip, Meteor-summoning, god-seeking self. But for now, I think this helps paint a picture of how I've been trying to conceptualize him.

[buried-in-autumn-leaves]

Yet another OC introduction post !!! The olba ones will have their dolls for all 4 steps bc I haven't decided on future looks for Freya and Trixie-

ANYWAYZ-

Aurora King !! She is part of my main Baxter line- There's a LOT of posts ab her on my blog with more info, but here's like a basic (?) rundown.

Step one Aurora is (like every version of her), very emotionally driven. She has always drawn her inspiration from fairytails, prefering to stay inside whenever the others go to the beach due to her hatred of sand. She has the nervous preset, and though others call her shy, she's really just cautious and soft-spoken. She gets attached to Cove because he's also quiet, and she thinks he's a lot nicer than he first appears, like some of the people in her stories.

She's willing to put up with the beach for him, enjoying his ideas about mermaids and other mythical possibilities below the waves. She also really likes Shiloh, though she's upset that he always seems to like Lizzie more, when Lizzie isn't even nice all the time like she is. (No offense of course, she adores her sister.)

She has sensory issues, making some things harder than necessary, like the fireworks moment. She thinks rules are important, and though Cove has a bit of a bad influence on her, she mostly sticks to that, keeping close to her moms and sister.

Above all else, she is determined that she can be just as happy as the princesses in her books- She just has to believe.

Step Two pushes her idealism to a hard point. Life was so great, she doesn't understand what went wrong. It's like suddenly her moms are too busy for her, her sister HATES her, and Cove isn't exactly the easiest to talk to. Not that she would want to bother her best friend with something silly like that, though.

She pretends, mostly. Smiles at her mothers and waves happily as her sister ignores her attempts at hanging out for the nth day in a row. She knows now that this anxiety- This knawing feeling in her gut clawing at the back of her throat won't go away. Her meds help, but she's having trouble coping with it. The first time Cove sneaks into her bedroom window, she almost pushes him back OUT in her panic.

She likes Derek a lot- He seems a lot like her, optimistic and loving and just kind in a way she admires. She's not oblivious, she notices the way he treats her compared to Cove. For a bit, she thinks this might be the fairytale she's been wishing for, but they're both so unsure about themselves, and the moment passes.

She enjoys going outside more due to Cove constantly dragging her to the beach, but she swears if he wakes her up before at LEAST 10 one more time, he's getting locked out. She copes with the sand by stubbornly wearing thick stockings under her dresses, insisting she isn't suffering in the california heat.

And then there's another boy- One filled with the same hatred of the world and scorn towards others that Cove had, and he makes Aurora smile. She's done this once before, she wants to help him too. He refuses, but she stays consistent, offering him reassurance until he's walking out of her life.

Life is hard when you're 13- she thinks -but the storybooks always have happy endings.

Alright, she's about done with the waiting now. Highschool flew by easily, and she displays her acomplishments with pride. She's also finished the rough draft of her first official book- The Obsidian Crown.

She's going to college, something that both excites and scares her. It might not be far to most people (a six hour drive north, still in California), but the thought of being that far from the only place she's known makes her feel nauseous.

But she did it- She made it to the age where anything is supposed to be possible. This summer is about celebration and looking forward instead of back.

Of course, life is never that simple.

Whatever forces exist beyond her have apparently decided to take the phrase 'Small World' to the extreme. She has her sister back, which makes her happier than her 13 year old self would've expected. She has Shiloh, who makes her feel bittersweet, but in coming back into her life brought Jeremy back with him.

Aurora latches onto Jeremy immediately, declaring their reunion an act of fate. ("We have the same last name, we're basically siblings!") She calls him almost weekly, insisting that being forced to talk about his day is good for him. His reaction the first time she introduced him to Terry and Miranda over video call as her brother is the most emotion she's ever seen from him, even if it was negative.

Then, to her astonishment, there's Baxter. Her panic fires up when the mystery prince from the dance recognizes her, but she somehow manages to not lose her breakfast on the sidewalk. Cove teases her relentlessly, disappoving in the nicest way he can when the two start dating. At one point, Aurora gifts him the handwritten copy of her book. He requests she sign it, which she does, although embarrassed.

Aurora is happy. She has her big sister, she has her little brother, even if he likes to pretend they don't know each other. Her friends, her parents, her prince. Her story is almost at its happily ever after.

Until it isn't.

She had tried to ignore Baxter's promise of only being with her for the summer. It didn't fit into her fairytale idealism. So it manages to catch her off guard when he dumps her. She leaves him at his door, turning and going not home but to Cove. Cove comforts her in whatever ways he knows how, and looking back, she would say he did a damn good job. But she was vulnerable, and Cove has always had a habit of resorting to humour, so she should've seen it coming when he points out that he said it was a bad idea to get involved with the victorian emo nightmare.

It's the only time she ever actually hit someone.

In the end it's Miranda who gets her out of her room, convincing her to eat and wash her hair after days of surviving off the snacks stashed in her desk.

She turns back to her stories, using her experiences as inspiration for her next two books: "A Still Ocean" and "Shattered Silence: A Poetry Collection".

She goes to her brothers graduation, giggling at the way his face goes red and he makes a quick exit, making sure to stay as far away from her as possible. She meets his best friend- Pran is a nice girl, she thinks, she just needs time.

She gives up dancing- It reminded her of him too much.

She goes to college, where she meets a girl who also had the displeasure of knowing Baxter, and the two laugh, comparing old pictures of him and confirming his fashion sense has never been any less funny.

She smiles, and for now, she decides, that's enough.

The summer of 2021 is... eventful to say the least.

June brings her back to the city, where Derek is, smiles and all. It brings his brothers, who look as adorable as ever. It brings his parents, who fawn over her as if she's one of their own.

July... brings Baxter. It brings heartbreak and anger and messages never sent. It brings the discovery that not only does Baxter STILL HAVE the handwritten draft she gave him, but every other book she's published- Lined up on a shelf in Baxter's apartment that he rushes to explain away. It brings tears. It brings dances years too late. It brings forgivess. It brings NEW promises- Ones to stay in touch, to talk, to tell the truth. To love. It brings another disapproving look from Cove that she sees melt away as he watches them dance.

August brings resolution. It brings her family together. It brings jumping onto Cove out of a taxi, making fun of the fact that he never seems to stop getting taller. It brings Lizzie, who pretends to not know how Shiloh is doing even though Aurora definitely saw a text from him on her sisters' phone. It brings a cool wind, a promise of colder weather to come.

It brings an end, and a beginning.

[genericpuff]

I hope you won't mind this in particular because I have no way of posting this anonymously to the critical community outside of making a burner account but I'm hoping that maybe you could share this as you're well respected in the community and may understand where I'm coming from.

It has become increasingly uncomfortable the way I've seen some people in the community comment on Psyche's design. I'm Black, and while I have my issues with the way she's been introduced, her entire character arc, or the fact that she was made into a token character for diversity points, I still find the way part of the community discusses her increasingly uncomfortable and nearing anti-Blackness at times. Really all I want is for non-Black criticals to please be more mindful of their criticisms when it comes to her character. That's all. Some comments are starting to become hurtful, like her current hair being called ugly (which I get isn't done in more creative styles but puff ponytails are a thing Black women wear often) or just the fact that she's Black now at all, she was always brown, the only thing that really changed was her hair texture and eye color. And repeatedly seeing things like "She looked prettier before" when she isn't ugly or "I liked her hair before" it's...uncomfortable, which hurts because I really enjoy this community full of creative and intelligent people. 💔

That's all, thank you for taking the time to read this.

Ouu, this is a great post with some great points, thank you for sharing! I don't mind people sharing their takes through my inbox if it gives them a safe outlet to do so, just so long as y'all don't mind me responding to them!

CW: this is mostly just a very sensitive post regarding race and culture representation in LO so just be aware that this one miiiight be heavy and/or triggering, please please please if anyone has anything to share in response to this just let me know, these discussions are important to have but they can still be emotionally draining and I don't want to make anyone feel upset or invalidated by this lil' essay post!!!

So obviously I can't speak on this as a black person BUT as an Indigenous person, I feel like I would be in your same boat if Psyche were being drawn with Indigenous/Mi'kmaq traits and I saw people going "well she looks UGLY now and she was PRETTIER before." So I can empathize with you there in that regard, people's takes can be a little rough around the edges with this kind of topic.

But I'm willing to give people the benefit of the doubt most of the time when these topics do come up because a lot of the criticisms aren't aimed at Psyche specifically being black or having textured hair, they're aimed at Rachel for suddenly retroactively retconning Psyche from being a dark-skinned/brown Mediterranean woman into a black woman.

Like, straight up, what pisses me off about how Psyche is treated is simply how she's been drawn as 4 different women of color over the course of the comic. Having a hairstyle that changes often is one thing (literally every character in LO lacks consistency) but her hair texture and length is constantly changing (which isn't something you can just change on a whim unless you're Persephone LMAO) AND her skin tone has flip flopped between, again, dark-skinned/ woman and black woman. In some panels she's outright orange which is... ech.

Now, take this with grains of salt because I have no source on it, but I've seen claims that RS once stated she "always wanted to draw Psyche black, but didn't know how to." Besides the fact that this sounds outright lazy (it's not hard to learn how to paint skintones that are not your own, Google exists) it also seems like RS trying to paint herself as "progressive" which she's done for a LOT of things beyond just POC rep (ex. fat rep, mental health rep, etc. all things that she's butchered or misrepresented entirely but still pretended like she was doing well).

Again, I'm giving a lot of benefit of the doubt here and I'm sure I'm gonna be proven wrong on this (I welcome it if there's something I've blatantly missed here, educate me in the comment section below pls) but when I see people say Psyche's hair is "ugly" in the newer panels or they "prefer her old design" I don't see it as them saying the hair style or texture itself is ugly or that she, in and of herself, is ugly. Often times people will short form it to "it looks ugly" especially in the faster-paced discussion circles, but really more often than not they mean "I think the way RS is trying to draw her just isn't good." Especially considering how low effort and lip service-y it feels. Like, Psyche's hair rn is literally just a giant texture brush pressed onto the screen and her skin tones are just brown + brown set to Multiply.

And that design is a far cry from where Psyche started.

Like, these are LITERALLY not the same women and while some might say "well maybe it was after she became a Goddess-" nope, she looked like her S3 version when she turned back into a mortal from nymph form, except she had an entirely different hair texture and skin tone.

None of this is to invalidate anyone's feelings regarding this criticism and how it's delivered. There doesn't need to be an intent to hurt for something to be hurtful. The purpose of this post is more so just to explain my own interpretation of where these criticisms come from (as someone who's had them myself) and how I interpret them as a POC. I don't think anyone's trying to be intentionally malicious to people from the POC community (though they can be blasé) especially considering a lot of the people talking about it are black themselves. No one person is a monolith for the entire community so while some are fine with how Psyche is being drawn, others aren't, and I think both are valid in their own ways. Often times it can come down to individual experiences and what people are used to seeing in media when it comes to POC rep and that's something that will vary per person. I've definitely seen conversations revolve around something being racist towards the Indigenous community that I couldn't care less about because it just wasn't something that I found offensive due to my own upbringing or what I'm used to seeing in media. Doesn't mean I can't still be educated on why it's hurtful to others, though!

All I'm gonna say on it is that, personally, I don't find anything inherently wrong with any of the designs on their own, there's nothing ugly with any of those looks. If they were all each their own character, I'd be down for it, absolutely. It's just the fact that all these designs are for ONE character. It's a shame to see Psyche robbed of any consistency even more so than every other character in the plot, and it very much feels like a case of a white New Zealand woman trying too hard to win representation points (and yes, that's a hot take, but it's a small hill I'm willing to die on because we all know RS' history with this sort of thing at this point, she's not good at hiding it lmao). It feels very low effort and obligatory, like Psyche is just there to check off a list of mandatory representation rather than be her own character with her own goals or traits or motivations.

And, REAL hot take, though it isn't really related to the majority of this post, I have to point out that it gets even weirder/ickier when you remember the fact that nymphs are treated as lower class in the narrative and Psyche... becomes a black-coded nymph... who works for Aphrodite as a servant...

(sigh how was this any better than just doing the OG myth, Rachel?)

Anyways, that's all I'm gonna say on that. That is, again, my personal take on it but I obviously can't speak on behalf of the black community or people in it, most of what drives me nuts just has to do with the lack of character consistency and the feeling that RS is just phoning shit in. The designs on their own independently from one another are fine and I don't think that's what most of the criticisms out there are annoyed about anyways - we're all just tired of seeing Psyche morph into different POC rep characters every other week.

Thank you for taking the time to write and voice your opinion on it, it's definitely a topic that can veer into nasty territory if not treaded carefully but it's one that interests me in talking about because POC rep is important to me, whether or not I belong to the specific culture that's being represented. I know I would be in the same boat if it were concerning Mi'kmaq characters.

And by all means, if y'all think I'm just spouting shit out of my ass or speaking completely out of turn, tell me in the comments or in my asks, this isn't a discussion with one simple clear cut answer or solution so I'd love to hear your own takes o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

[bryverros]

a lot of yapping about the making of this below

so!!!! i tried out 3d modelling here's my first model featuring my character that gets drawn the most. and it sure is a bit wonky (the hair is bothering me a LOT, the colouring was beyond fathomable to me so i couldnt get the correct colours for the model and the ones i have here are like, a rough estimation), which is why i decided to use this as a reference for angles. i am kind of proud of how it turned out because it IS my first model ever and i've spent a lot of time on this thing. like, had to redo it several times because my computer is not cut out for this and kept crashing the app, and apparently blender's autosave isn't that good. i kind of got too used to the shortcuts, though, after two days of using blender. to the point where i kept consistently trying to use blender shortcuts in krita. and ive been using krita for ages.

... i also kept trying to rotate my drawing to see a different angle. not my brightest moment.

but im actually proud of the paintovers as well, i had a shit ton of fun w the colours, and i like the pencil brush i'm using rn. it kind of gets on my nerves a lot and i can't quite figure out how to fix it, but whatever whatever

anyways, im attaching my bill 3d model here too. a separate post wasnt enough for it, its so good you guys

[homestuckexamination]

i was looking thru ur blog n i found an anon arguing that math is Doom-coded. being a math-loving autistic, i gotta put my two cents in.

math is not Doom. sure, math has rules, but that's about where it ends. Doom is about, well, Suffering. Suffering and Death and Dying. of course, math involves these things, but they aren't the point of math. if anything, Doom is sort of. antithetical to math. math is all about logic and reason, but Doom is a very emotional aspect. “They are not the advice friend-they're the friend you go to when you need to vent about a rough day at work.” that’s not what math is at all.

math is Void. of course, there’s the joke about a lot of math being about finding x, and how variables are inherently Void-coded, but even going beyond that. math is *hard*, mathematicians know this, and yet, continue to pursue it. “They don't take much on faith and would rather live in a state of confusion than believe something that might be untrue or bow to intellectual authority.” math is about proofs. there is no academic consensus in math in the same way that there is an academic consensus in humanities, or even in other stem fields. math is about proofs. in addition, math is done purely abstractly. while math tends to have real-world usage, it’s very rare that this is immediately apparent. oftentimes, fields of mathematics are discovered and then only found to be useful years, decades, or even centuries down the line. that isn't even touching upon the inherently incomprehensible nature of a lot of mathematics, like infinity.

this may all sound fairly Light-y, however i'd argue that this is due to Light being an aspect of scholars, and being Void’s complement. my final argument for math being Void is exactly why it can't be Light. godel’s incompleteness theorems. mathematics has always been thought of this purely logical thing, that any true statement could be defined mathematically. mathematicians have written hundreds of pages worth of proof attempting to prove this – principia matematica being the most well-known example. but the truth is that every non-trivial, consistent, and formal system of mathematics will ALWAYS be incomplete. there will ALWAYS be unanswerable questions, there will always be axioms that cannot be proven. and i can’t think of something more Void-y than that – a subject that is both fundamental, yet entirely incomplete.

basically mathematicians are a bunch of Light players trying to fight the most Void subject known to man (sorry about this being so long, i'm very autistic)

It's okay don't worry! The talk is good. :3c That being said I DO want to mention that, I am pretty sure that the association Anon made with Math is borne of canon's conflation of Technology, and in particular, Programming, to Doom. Probably. I don't remember the OG post but that's likely where it stems from. Good analysis though!

[bvannn]

Weekly update March 22, 2024

I’m still exhausted beyond words. I’m also on a bit of a spiral where I’m worried about the quality of my art and about my output, but it’s okay because I’m chipping away at old big projects still and as soon as classwork is subsided I’m going to try to learn a new skill, because any time I feel insufficient I learn a new skill so I can be better. Classes have been kicking my ass mostly but hopefully big things will be coming sooner rather than later.

I’ve been doing a number of drawings to time myself and update my comms. Turns out I’m a lot less consistent than I thought so it’ll be a bit longer till I get prices sorted out but it’s coming along. Also good chance I’ll add more on to it later once I sort out more things I can offer. My usual drawing style will be the main one, but I’m hoping I can also add the epithet erased style, the chibi dnd mini style I do sometimes, options for backgrounds, and eventually also music.

Problem with music though has been my exhaustion. The only music stuff I’ve really been drilling at has been bigger projects, but I’d like to just sit down and do a small beat as well at some point. Once I catch up with classwork I might try. I have been chipping away at a couple instrumental pieces, as well as the larger vocal cover and I did some lyric writing today for the two ‘finished mostly’ ones I’ve been sitting on. I did have to scrap and redo a character theme for the second time this week but once I have some time with a clear mind I can reroute that one and use the melody I wrote for the last draft. In development right now are an ambient character theme, a 16bit-ish instrumental theme, a Zelda medley, a song cover with Kyo, a small gabber song with no affiliation to anything, the two original vocal songs, one symphonic rock and one EDM, and a handful of others that I haven’t been actively working on. As soon as I have significant time I’m going to try to finish off some of them.

Once the music is finished I’ll have to throw visuals together for them too. I really want to put in effort to make animation rigs again but I don’t have the time or energy. I might do one for the vocal cover song since I could be reusing the character but I’m not sure it’ll be necessary. Once the cover is done I’ll storyboard something and decide then.

Comic is also still going, I haven’t had a ton of time to do thumbnailing/writing, but I should be down to the last scene. No guarantee I won’t have to add more after editing, but it’s getting there. Once that’s done I’ll try to post roughs of specific panels so it’s a bit easier to keep track of where it’s at. The thumbnailing is a big bottleneck right now because it takes a lot of brain power but it’s almost done. If I get myself together this next week it should be done by the next update. No promises though, I have a lot of classwork.

Last couple things, a good amount of my exhaustion is the result of insomnia, but I’ve been using that time to plan out TTRPG campaign stuff. I think I have some really fun creative encounters. I think I probably will try to write it out and find a way to release it, just in the interest of getting more people to play the anime campaign system (or whatever they end up renaming it to when the epithet erased version of the rules drops… eventually). I might throw together art for that too, but that’ll be a ways off, after the writing and encounters are done. Plus ideally I’d want the module to be available for free, so I don’t need to add too much anyway.

Last thing, as I mentioned I’m a bit unsatisfied with where I am with art stuff. I want to thank everyone who has been sticking around, I am trying to make it worthwhile for you too. But whenever I am unsatisfied with myself I need to learn a new skill, so I may be dipping my toes into pixel art soon. I do have that 16bit ish instrumental song I mentioned, that’s been on the back burner since January but I’ve finally been hit with the inspiration to finish it, and a little pixel animation would be nice to go with it, but that would require me to learn pixel art itself first, so I’ll try to do that in the coming weeks. Idk how soon though.

This next week will be primarily dedicated to clearing up schoolwork and fixing my sleep problem. After that I’ll try finishing up that cover song, finishing up comic thumbnailing, and finishing up that instrumental song, in that order. Anything else is a bonus. Will class work and insomnia get in the way? Probably, but I’m still doing my best.