#but with time it gets more refined and less 'threatening' and we become familiar with it and eventually it becomes just another Thing lol

[ifriqiyyah]

i don't really get the assumption that everyone who uses chatgpt is telling it to generate prose or w/e. if i want good fiction or poetry i know where to go for that and it isn't to a bot.

i use it when i need to complain about my emotional problems which are too embarrassing to tell a real person, and also ask it questions too specific for google, like about particular chemical elements or certain planetary placements in astrology or "recommend me music with sounds like [timestamp] in [song title]" lol

[anime-grimmy-art]

Told you guys I’d ramble in due time.

I absolutely adore Bravely Default 2. It came at a really bad time cos I can’t waste 70 hours on a jrpg, but well, it’s too late to be concerned about that now. And as is tradition with me obsessing over a new game / show / whatever, you’ll basically find a fullblown review disguised as ramblings right under the cut. Be aware that I’m gonna talk about EVERYTHING, so spoilers are a given. Some maybe even for the previous Bravely Default games.

Also, if you wanna talk about this game in any capacity, hit me up, I’m DESPERATE to talk more about it.

Just for reference on how long this is gonna be, I made a voice recording while driving to remember all the points I wanna make, and that recording is almost 2 hours long. I did cut it down but still, this is gonna be a lot.

I’ll start off with the things that actually bugged me about the game, since there are only 3 things that really bothered me. First of, I really don’t like that you can name Seth. He has too much personality to be a self insert and player integration is not that big of a part in the game that this decision can be justified. It wouldn’t bother me that much if it didn’t leave a bad mark on the ending. First of all, we were robbed of Gloria desperately shouting for Seth, which makes the impact work less, and it’s just so prevalent that the name can’t be said because you have all the normal sound design going. If they’d just let the credits still play I wouldn’t have batted an eye, but because every other sound comes in it’s so obvious they’re just silently shouting in this scene, which makes it look silly. Like I said, this decision is more a detriment than an addition, and it’s a shame it casts a shadow on an otherwise heartfelt ending.

Speaking about lost potential, the other thing that really bothers me is the lost potential in certain plot points and character conclusions. I mainly mean Adam and Edna here. Both of them have been built up to be these formidable foes but they just, die. If it was just Adam I’d be fine with it, since you expect Edna to backstab him and be the actual big bad of the story, but I cannot fathom why they dropped Edna this HARD. If not Edna herself, I don’t understand why we don’t get more of a reaction from the Fairies and especially Adelle. I mean, Edna was her sole reason she left for her journey in the first place, then Edna dies and that’s it? No part where she grieves for a second? No concern from the others about Adelle? Mind you, I haven’t finished all the Sidequests, so maybe there actually is one in which this is addressed, but I think even just a Party Chat after Bad End 1 would have been sufficient to show how Adelle suddenly feels about the loss of Edna. It would have made Bad End 2 / The Secret Ending even more impactful, because, yeah, of course, you kinda know Adelle isn’t going to turn her back on fairy kind, but one of the reasons she doesn’t leave is because if Enda didn’t get a happy ending, then she shouldn’t either. It would have been amazing foreshadowing if she showed this sentiment before this scene happened. Other than that, it’s a shame that we know so little about Edna, or rather, how she became “bad”. I get she’s supposed to be corrupted by the Night’s Nexus, but how did it even come to this? It can’t have been a gradual thing, after all, Adelle says Edna was always good natured and then just disappeared one day. Really would have loved seeing more of that plot point.

Ok, last gripe I have, some choices in the soundtrack and sound design. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love the OST, and I will get to that, but damn, whatever Revo used for the lead instrument in Wiswald hurts my ears. It’s a really good track, but I always have to turn down my volume because these high pitched sounds physically hurt. And for sound design. Dude, the Night’s Nexus is the least threatening, nightmare fueled abomination that ever existed. I get that its growl is kinda supposed to be layered with Edna’s or sth, but it, it just sounds silly. If they went the route of just swinging between different voices or began distorting it from phase to phase, it would have been fine. But the choice they made really made an otherwise creepy design just absolutely silly.

Ok, enough jammering, on to the good stuff. Like I said, there’s going to be a lot, so I’ll try to be brief in each aspect.

Gameplay

I honestly like the new battle mechanics more than the old ones. This individual, turn based system feels way more dynamic and it’s easier to strategies in battles. Because nothing made me more angry than setting up for a heal and the enemy suddenly being faster than me and killing my healer. Now it’s easier to plan ahead a bit.

I also found myself experimenting more with the jobs. Not sure what it really is, but none of the party members leaning more towards certain types of jobs and the job leveling being way faster probably helped.

And I know some people get up in arms because the boss sometimes can be a real pain in the ass (looking at you pope dude), I still found it very interesting getting around counters or even using these counters as a benefit. As an example, I made Adelle my main physical fighter and gave her lots of counter abilities to help her profit from being countered by enemies themselves. Now, she can attack enemies, get countered, automatically evade that counter and earn a BP at the same time. Made a lot of boss fights way easier and fun to exploit.

Music

Ok, I will try my best to be really, really brief, because in my recording this part takes up almost 40 minutes. Anyways, Revo might have just become one of my absolute favorite composers ever. I don’t know what kind of magic he used, but I initially wasn’t that impressed with the OST, but every time I listened to it, I just fell in love harder and harder. Before getting into specifics, I wanna highlight the two things that made me love this OST overall. First of all, this soundtrack almost seems like a refinement of BD’s. While losing some of that fairytale vibe, it sounds even more fantasy now. And in contrast to the original, this almost sounds more balanced? Like, BD’s OST felt high energy throughout, BD2’s on the other hand manages to find a good balance between high and low energy pieces. Like, the character themes or battle themes are absolute hype, but the overworld themes are a lot calmer and easier to listen to while exploring. Second big point that makes this soundtrack amazing is that Revo is an absolute god at using emotional progression/storytelling and leitmotifs in his songs. And heck, do I love myself my leitmotifs. You’ve got some obvious ones, like the final battle theme in which all the character themes and other leitmotifs are integrated. Then you got some maybe more subtle once, just like how the overworld themes are just the main theme, just a lot calmer and using the lead instruments of the towns of the areas.

But my absolute favourites gotta be the character themes and the main theme. I love how fitting the themes for the characters are and in general, each of them is such a bop. At first I prefered Elvis’, because I sure am a sucker for jazzy vibes, but over time Adelle’s became my fav. It’s just something about the trumpets, and how the theme almost sounds a bit melancholic and bittersweet, that drew me in. And considering her story, mostly her bad end, that the bittersweet tone really fits.

Then there’s the main theme. Just like BD’s it shouts “triumphant anthem” and it definitely gives you a very familiar vibe, but I’d argue it has even better emotional progression. Heck, the first time I heard the music start up in the reveal trailer, I didn’t have to look at the screen to know this is gonna be a BD game. Also, the credit song version had me weeping at the true end. I’m someone who’s very easily affected by music (if me shouting about soundtracks on this blog wasn’t proof enough) and just hearing that ending song, getting the after credits scene, just for the second credits to start as a freaking duet. Dude, at that point I just started sobbing, I’m not gonna lie. Just this little part showed how much Revo knows how to put emotion in a song and also write it in such a way that he can elicit strong, emotional reactions from you too. 

Story

People have been complaining how the story is too boring and kinda disappointing in comparison to the last one, but I just think the games tried to accomplish different things here. Since the BD series is a celebration of old, classic jrpgs, “cliche” storytelling is a given. Though, BD did throw a lot of meta stuff in there too. BD2 in contrast just feels like a direct execution of that initial idea. It feels familiar, it feels comfy and it feels safe. Except for the little things with the endings and then overwriting the Nexus’ “save file”, BD2 doesn’t really get that meta, which is totally fine. It doesn’t try to reinvent or innovate anything, it just wants to be a fantasy story, that might be cliche, but still fun and enjoyable in its own right.

I’d also argue that the pacing is a lot better than the old game, because with BD I sometimes found myself skipping through scenes to get on with the story. Not that this game didn’t have me rushing through stuff as well, but I found it kept my intrigue way better than the original.

Characters

Next to the music, this is the part that I absolutely love the most. While, yes, they did lose a lot of potential with some characters, mostly with the villains, the main cast is just so much fun. I love these 4 dorks so, so much.

I honestly can’t stand how much people compare them to the original cast. Yes, ofc, I’ve been doing my fair share of comparisons too, but calling these four a more boring version of BD’s party physically hurts me. Because except for some initial impressions, the Heroes of Light are completely different from our beloved Warriors of Light.

While yes, Seth and Gloria give off strong Tiz and Agnes vibes at first, they both grow into such different characters that they’re not really comparable. I think this shows with Adelle and Elvis even more. I do understand how people could compare Adelle and Edea, since they’re both the feisty girl type, but I can’t understand how people can see Ringabel and Elvis as the same character type. While those two are the “suave” party members, they act so differently from another. And that’s honestly apparent the first time you meet them. 

Anyways, I love these 4 so much.

We technically don’t know a lot about Seth at all, but they manage to pull so much out of just the fact that he’s a sailor, that it makes him really endearing, really fast.

I was kinda disinterested with Gloria at first, because again, the initial impression was Agnés2.0, but she grew on me a lot. Gloria is way more hard headed and honestly sassy in comparison to Agnés and I absolutely adore it.

Elvis. Elvis, my man. I love this fantasy scottosh wizard so, so much. He’s such a ridiculous character but so endearing at the same time. You got all this dorkiness, with him setting himself on fire as a student, him doing god knows what for a good drink or just laughing danger and prejudice in the face. But then you got his super empathetic and caring side. Mind you, most of his wise moments come from quoting Lady Emma, but still, as much as he’s hopeless with certain social situations, he’s actually still really good at reading the room and playing things smart. He’s a smart and powerful idiot, which makes him a danger to everyone and himself, and I love him for it. (I also can’t believe they called him Lesley I MEAN COME ON)

And then there’s Adelle. I liked her from the start, but I didn’t think she would stick out to me. I think now she’s my favourite character. Not even talking about all the stuff that happens in chapter 3 and onward, because these story threads are awesome in their own right, but there’s just something about her personality that’s interesting and appealing to me. Like I said, I’m not surprised people compare her to Edea, I did too at first, but while Edea walks very close to the line of a Tsundere, I was really surprised that Adelle is, well, not a Tsundere at all. Yeah, of course she’s putting Elvis down a lot, but that stems more from her preventing his ego from going to his head than her being all embarrassed. No, Adelle is actually really well adjusted when it comes to communication. While it’s hilarious that she and Elvis met with her chucking her shoes at him, the two just got along well right from the start. Adelle in general has this really open and helpful personality, but also doesn’t shy away from putting her foot down, even if that sometimes comes out as an embarrassed sputter. She’s also the mother hen of the group. She looks out for the other three and gets concerned about them real fast. 

I dunno, Adelle just really grew on me over the course of this game, and then her kinda being paired with Elvis too, as partners and as partners, makes me like her even more. Because as much as I like their personalities individually, I like their character dynamic even more. I honestly love the relationships between all four of them a lot. You really feel them grow closer as friends and all the little character sidequests just always made me really happy.

Conclusion

You might not believe me, but I really held back there. This could probably have been 3 times its length. As much as I love this game, it’s of course not perfect. It struggles and flails in some parts a lot and it certainly has some aspects that might turn people off. But for me, it was just a very familiar and comfy game that didn’t necessarily deliver anything new, but that told its story in such a way that it still got me excited to keep going. The soundtrack is absolutely amazing and the conclusion of the story actually got me to cry. While not groundbreaking, this game is highly enjoyable and leaves you absolutely satisfied at the end.

Also, I would like to iterate that I am desperate to get more content about this game, so if you wanna chat about it, hit me up.

Anyways, anyone else felt like having a fever dream when everybody in chapter 2 started talking fantasy scottish? Cos I sure did.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Diary of the Writing Raven; Birds of a Feather

For the 1100+ follower milestone, here is the next part of the cursed raven’s story!

This time, we revisit entries in Miss Raven’s diary. A familiar face assumes prominence on the stage--what role will he play in this story of ours?

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4

Day 47

I feel like I am being watched.

Uncle says I am just nervous and excited from the ceremony yesterday.

I am not so sure.

Day 48

I ran into that weirdo again today.

The weirdo is named Rook Hunt. He also calls himself the Hunter of Love...? I do not understand what that means.

He said that he will not be fooled again by Mon-sure Mastermind’s tricks again. He said he knows I am a bird, and he will chase me to the ends of Twisted Wonderland to see me in flight.

...Scary.

He shouts many strange words and chases me around. I managed to narrowly miss him by diving into the bushes. He was distracted by some students with animal ears--and I was able to run all the way home safely.

I suppose it is good to be curious, but...Mister Rook is too curious...!!

Why couldn’t I have run into Mister Jade instead?

Day 51

Uwaaah, I saw a very pretty upperclassman today! He had golden hair, violet at the ends.

The pretty upperclassman snapped at Mister Rook and told him to stop scaring me.

I am thankful, but...it seems like that upperclassman was scanning me all over. Judging me silently. I wanted to disappear into my clothes.

Before we part, he tells me that my ponytails are not symmetrical. He adjusts it for me and sends me off.

Mister Rook’s friends are strange people, too.

Day 56

Another run-in with Mister Rook. They seem to happen every day now, though they are not always...eventful.

He says I am too formal, and that I can just call him “Rook”.

He would not stop pestering me until I agreed.

He gave me a toothy grin when I, at last, relented.

What a troublesome man.

Day 57

Ever since I tried Flounder’s Blue, I have been sampling new foods and drinks.

Today, I got a cup of caw-fee.

Silly me, though...I tripped and spilled it all over a Savanaclaw student. He was so angry. He threatened to gobble me up.

I was trembling and sobbing when the Savanaclaw student yelped. Rook had a tight grip on his trail and kept tugging it, saying weird things until he scurried off.

I thank him.

Day 60

It feels like I see Rook around every corner. He does not always approach--sometimes, he is just content with watching from a distance, or he gives a small wave.

Jade has noticed too.

He asks if Rook makes me feel unsafe..

Rather than feel unsafe, I am a little curious as to why Rook is...well, Rook. He is certainly an odd fellow, but when I think back to a few days ago, I can’t help but think he has a good heart.

I do not think he means any harm.

So I tell Jade I am fine.

Day 66

Rook smelled funny today.

He says there was an accident in the Science Club, so he will reek of tomato and basil for a few days. That hunting trip he was planning is cancelled; the smell will alert too many animals of his presence.

I tell him that he reminds me of the pasta served at the Mostro Lounge, and he laughs.

How he is able to stay so cheery is a wonder to me--but it is not a bad thing, I suppose.

Day 72

Rook tells me of a carny-vale in the nearby town, and says I must experience it for myself. I was curious, so I followed.

There are so many bright sounds and sights. It smells like something fried and sweet.

We ride the spinning tea cups and the carousel. They make me feel like I’m flying once more.

I’m no good at any of the game booths, but Rook is. He has impeccable aim and strength. The game booth runners cry and beg him to not run them out of business.

Rook just smiles and asks them for their best prizes. He has no use for most of them, so he dumps his prizes onto me with a part on the head.

My arms are too full to hold any food, so Rook helps feed me. He stuffs funnel cake, cotton candy, and candied apple into my mouth.

The last thing we do for the day is the ferris wheel. We go up and up against the sunset.

In the dying light of day, I realize something.

Rook has very pretty eyes, too.

Day 80

The pretty upperclassman came up and introduced himself.

Vil Schoenheit, Pomefiore’s dorm leader.

The queen.

He remarks that my pigtails are not asymmetrical today, and that I am a fast learner.

“You must be, little Shetland potato,” Vil comments, “if you are to deal with my huntsman.”

Day 84

...Rook was carrying a Pomefiore boy over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.

He says that it’s his job to capture runaways, in service of his queen.

...I wonder how much he gets paid to do this?

Day 85

I told Rook about my hiking trip with Jade!

He seemed very interested, listening intently and nodding while I spoke.

Rook says that he, too, is a fan of the great outdoors, and that we should go on a camping trip together sometime.

I look forward to it.

Day 90

Today is the promised camping trip with Rook.

The weather is getting chillier, so he reminds me to dress warm. He will take care of the rest of the preparations. After all, he has had much more experience with these sorts of things.

I’m still cold, even when I show up in three layers. Rook tuts and throws his jacket over me, despite my protests.

He guides me through the forest, pointing out tiny things I would not have noticed on my own. That bunny’s burrow, those squirrels storing nuts for the upcoming winter, the rustle of the leaves, the trickle of water, how the sunlight filters through the trees...

Rook has such a poetic way of speaking.

He reminds me of a prince in a fairy tale.

Day 94

Rook told me that he has noticed that my speech has improved. He is proud, puffing up like a proud father. He spouts some nonsense about how “mon petit oiseau” (he helped me with the spelling) is becoming such a refined young lady.

I told him that his own manner of speech is far prettier than mine.

Rook just laughed and offered to help me improve more and more, if I wish.

I should pay a visit to Pomefiore, he said, and the queen will welcome me with open arms.

Day 95

Pomefiore is...beautiful. Violet tapestries, crimson curtains, and gold decorations dripping from every available crevice. And everyone is just as beautiful as their surroundings, skin like glass and eyes set in jewel-colored shadows.

I expected nothing less of the oldest dormitory at Night Raven College. The castle is steeped in years of history.

I was offered tea and a three tiered stand of snacks. Vil introduced me to a boy named Epel, who squirmed in his seat with discomfort.

He made us hold our tea cups all funny and barked at us to exchange words. Rook stands at his queen’s side and just...smiles at us as we suffer.

After that, Vil shepherded us to a large table, where two sets of cutlery were laid out.

I’m drilled for hours on end, until I can differentiate the several different variants of spoons, forks, and knives. Epel, too.

I am told to return every few days, to join Epel for his lessons. “It would do him some good to have someone to go through the motions with,” Vil insists. “It gives him some much needed...’encouragement’.”

More lessons for me.

...Somehow, I feel like Rook has me caught in a snare.

Day 100

Vil quips that we are learning ballroom dancing today.

I do not see the practical use of such a skill, but he will not take no for an answer.

Epel and I mutter apologies as we link hands and step on each other’s feet. Then the queen has us take turns spinning around with Rook.

He is very graceful on his feet--far more than myself or Epel. I’m nervous when my turn comes up, but Rook reassures me that it will be fine.

His arms form a cage to keep me from stumbling.

He clicks his tongue and says I need more practice.

Day 102

We focused on the arts today. Vil was busy with modeling (?) and told us that Rook would be our instructor. He says that the arts are his best subject, so please leave everything to him.

Rook shows us fruit bowls and pictures of scenery (he says he took the photographs himself)! Then he sets out canvases and paint sets and tells us to follow his lead.

His voice is a soft murmur as he beats his paintbrush against a blank canvas, breathing color into an otherwise lifeless world.

I do my best to do as he says.

Rook glances over--and he tells me, through a blinding smile, that my painting needs some work.

I have to agree.

Day 110

Epel is with friends today.

Rook takes this opportunity to grant me a language and writing lesson. He knows that I like writing, so now is as good of a time as any.

Rook hovers over me at a desk and suggests ways to make my writing sound...fancier.

I practice writing sentences like...

You are the light of my life, the lark’s birdsong in the still morning.

You are as lovely as the petals of a rose, lush and delicate and breathtakingly beautiful.

You are the moon and the starlight, twinkling in the depths of the darkness and guiding me to salvation.

I ask him what the point of these phrases were--and Rook answers, “For when you wish to woo whomever has captured your heart!” He makes it sound so easy.

He teaches me a few basic phrases of his flowery language, too.

I tell him merci.

Day 117

The queen puts books on my head and tells me to walk without dropping any of them.

Rook holds my hand and helps me keep balance.

It is warm, and comforting and supportive, just like Jade’s.

Then Vil whips out a pair of odd shoes, with stick-like things instead of a flat sole. He calls them heels and urges me to put them on.

I fall on my face, and Rook has to help me up.

On my second attempt, he catches me. He tells me I have the grace of a newborn fawn--that is to say, none at all.

Still, I feel safe in his arms.

Day 133

It is cold, and snowy.

Rook drags me outside anyway. He says exercise will do my frail little body some good.

But...no matter what I activity I do, I am miserable at it. Snowshoeing, ice skating, sledding. I am horrible at all of them, and more.

We settle for building a snowman.

I try to make it look cute.

Day 140

The cruise ship is boring. The beach is boring. It’s mostly older folks like Uncle sipping on tropical drinks and sunbathing.

I wish I had someone to talk to.

Of course, Jade would be nice and set my heart at ease...but Rook would be able to make even something as mundane as this fun.

I can already hear him shouting in my head about the clear blue waters, and the amber sunlight, and the snow white sand.

Look at me, I’m beginning to speak nonsense.

Well, nonsense it may be, but it is interesting nevertheless.

Rook is...interesting.

Day 149

There are lots of seagulls here.

...They remind me of Rook.

I am not quite sure why.

Maybe it is the incessant cawing.

Though...that is charming, in its own unique way.

Day 155

Rook brought back a souvenir from his home land--a bright blue feather on a beaded necklace. He says it is similar to the one the young prince of his country wears.

It turns out, he is from the Afterglow Savannah! What a surprise; I thought he would be from the Land of Pyroxene.

He regales me with stories of his adventures, of the many hunts he embarked on and his trophies.

His eyes are like emeralds, shining with excitement.

Day 167

I saw a play with Rook.

It told the story of two lovers whose families detested one another. The actors all speak quite frivolously, just like Rook. I can see why he would like this kind of thing.

My favorite part...it was the balcony scene.

The male lead cannot stand to be apart from the female lead, and so he sneaks into her garden at night. He summons her to the balcony and makes a vow that he will, no matter what, find a way to be with her.

...The play ends with death.

I cried a little, and Rook let me lean against his shoulder until I stopped.

Day 170

I penned a little story based on the play.

This one has a happy ending.

I want to put some hope into the world.

Day 185 (Continued)

I asked Rook if he was excited for Valentine’s Day, if he was expecting any gifts.

He gave me a mysterious smile in response and said, “Ah, that is for me to know and for you to find out, mon petit oiseau.”

I wonder what he means by that.

Day 186 (Continued)

I will give Rook some chocolate, too!

As thanks for being my friend.

Day 197 (Continued)

I made little heart-shaped bon-bons for Rook.

Perfect for the Hunter of Love.

Day 198 (Continued)

I want to curl up and die, diary.

Rook saw me crying today, under the shade of the great apple tree that towers in the school courtyard.

He asked me what was wrong, a concerned look on his face.

I snapped at him, told him to leave me be.

...But rather than bombard me with questions or annoy me with overly embellished words...

...Rook sat next to me silently. He held my hand until I stopped crying.

Then I spilled everything. I don’t know why I did. I...I guess I wanted someone to know of my story.

Starting with my arrival at Night Raven College. Ending with Jade’s betrayal.

I told Rook the tale through my tears and disgusting sobbing. It was absolutely pathetic, but...he listened patiently.

When I finished, he told me something.

“Mon petit oiseau, I would never lie to you.”

And I believe him.

Day 200

I cried again.

Stupid Leeches.

Day 202

I am scared of Jade.

I say as much to Rook.

He makes a joke about sharpening a harpoon and going eel hunting.

...At least, I think it is a joke.

Day 215

Rook now greets me as soon as my classes let out. His smile and laugh are reassuring to see.

He makes sure I get home safely, and without being accosted.

I cannot say merci enough.

Day 227

...It is ironic.

The man I once ran from is now the one I willingly go to for shelter, and the man I once went to for shelter is now the one I run from.

What a strange reversal of fortune.

Day 228

I feel eyes on me again.

...Leeches, most likely.

Day 230

Tomorrow is another day.

I will stay at Rook’s side.

It is the only place I feel safe beyond Uncle’s attic.

Day 231

I can trust him.

I can trust Rook.

He will tell an ugly truth right off the bat.

He values honesty, integrity--like me.

And birds of a feather must flock together.

[bytheangell]

Hey! Can I request something where Raphael is human again, attends the Shadowhunter Academy and then heads to the NY Institute and Izzy just adores seeing him around all the time and they grow even closer. And maybe Raphael asks Maryse for her blessing because that was just how he was raised. Love your works, they're always amazing!

The Life We Choose (Read on AO3)

It only takes a year after turning human for Raphael to admit how much he misses the Shadow World. He knows that the option to become a vampire again is there - both Simon and Lily offered to turn him previously, but he turned them both down with the promise that they’d be the first he comes to if he changes his mind. Even though he misses the Shadow World, he doesn’t want to be immortal again. That isn’t a fate he’ll be spared twice if he goes back to it, and he doesn’t want that for himself.

He has another idea, one that he thinks about long and hard before deciding he’s serious about it, which is when he finds himself in Isabelle’s office at the New York Institute.

“I’d like to apply for ascension,” Raphael says.

“What?” Isabelle asks, blinking rapidly in surprise.

“I’d like to apply for ascension,” Raphael repeats, clear and calm. He’s thought this through and is entirely confident in the request, even if Izzy doesn’t seem to share that certainty.

“You want to be a Shadowhunter?” Izzy questions.

“Yes,” Raphael says. “I’ve thought about this a lot, Isabelle. I want to be part of the Shadow World again, and this is the only way while keeping my mortality intact. I want this.”

Izzy bites down on her lower lip in thought. “It isn’t just like I can sign off on it. You need to study, and get approved, and drink from the-”

“The Mortal Cup, yes. And then take my first runes. I know the risks, I know it’s more dangerous the older you are, and I know I’m well beyond the usual age for this sort of thing. I also know,” he adds confidently. “That adults ascending isn’t unheard of, and that the Clave can, and has, approved them.”

“They’ll look at your history with Camille,” Isabelle points out. “But I’ll vouch for you. And I’m sure Alec and Magnus will, too. We should have enough pull to get it approved… are you sure this is what you want, though?”

Raphael nods. “Positive. And if you’d rather not get involved, I can take it to another Head in another city and work from there,” he adds. This is the first sign of hesitation he’s shown because he doesn’t want to go through strangers in other cities. He’d much rather do this with Isabelle by his side, though he understands if she doesn’t feel the same.

Izzy shakes her head. “Absolutely not! I wouldn’t trust this with anyone else. I’ll help however I can.”

---

Izzy is true to her word. She shows up to the Academy about once a week, claiming she’s only there to offer her assistance since they’re short on staff, but always managing to spend most of her time with Raphael. She checks in on what they’re studying, helps him with whatever he doesn’t already know about Shadowhunter-specific laws, and practices runes with him every chance she gets. When she’s too busy with her own responsibilities Jace manages to suddenly appear in her place, though Raphael can tell it’s mostly because his sister asks him to and less because he actually wants to be doing it.

Raphael’s always been a quick study and knows that as far as the book work is concerned he’s good to go. It helps that he’s older than everyone there, and more familiar with the Shadow World than many of those from Shadowhunter families, though they do have the upper hand on more Shadowhunter-specific knowledge. Fighting while re-adjusting his instincts to more refined tactics than he was used to as a vampire is, honestly, his biggest struggle.

It helps (as far as he’s concerned) that his abrasive personality and history as a vampire leaves him with plenty of time to study and train, as he isn’t exactly winning many of the young Shadowhunters over as friends.

Izzy seems concerned to find him alone all of the time, but Raphael only shrugs.

“I’m not here to make friends,” he points out. “I’m here to learn.”

“And when you all have to work together?” Izzy prompts.

“They don’t have to like me, they just have to trust me,” Raphael points out.

Izzy smiles at that answer. “You’re going to fit right in with the Nephilim,” she says.

He hopes she’s right.

---

The next time he sees Isabelle is the day before his Ascension ceremony. He almost doesn’t agree to meet with her, not sure he can deal with a teary ‘in case you don’t make it’ speech, and only relenting when she swears that isn’t why she’s there.

“I’m glad you came here,” Izzy says “You’re going to be a great Shadowhunter, I can already tell. You’ll be an asset to whatever Institute you end up at. And… and I wanted to make you an offer. You don’t have to take it, and I’ll totally understand if you’d rather take your new life in another direction, but…”

“What is it?” Raphael prompts.

“Look, I really like spending time with you, Raphael. Not just teaching you, but having you around again has been really, really nice. And once you’re ascended-” he notes with a small smile that, true to her word, she isn’t turning this into an ‘if you survive’ moment. “-if you wanted to be stationed in New York, we’d love to have you.”

He isn’t expecting that. “We?” he questions, following a hunch.

“Yeah. Jace and the others... and me,” she says, then folds under his steady gaze. “Alright, mostly me. I’d love to have you there, but only if you want to.”

Raphael smiles. “I do,” he agrees, and it’s nice to know that Izzy wasn’t just helping him because she felt any sense of obligation, but because she genuinely enjoys spending time with him. He’s thrilled that extends to his time as an actual Shadowhunter.

...now he just has to get through the Ascension.

---

He does. At his insistence, Izzy and the others don’t come to the ceremony, because he doesn’t want them there to witness if something does go wrong. Thankfully it does not, and he emerges a full, proper Shadowhunter.

Of course, in true Magnus Bane fashion, there’s a party at the Loft afterward, complete with banners that Magnus made out to say “It’s a Vampire Mundane Shadowhunter!”.

“You’re not funny,” Raphael says, deadpan, only to have Simon walk up immediately after, burst into a fit of laughter, and tell Magnus how hilarious the banners are. Raphael can only glare more pointedly in response.

Wasting no time, his first patrol is the very next day. Isabelle goes out with him herself, and it’s an easy one with no actual reported activity. This gives them a chance to talk a little more about how he’s doing and little things they can do so he adapts into this new role in the Shadow World as easily as possible, starting with a room at the Institute.

“Would you rather I threaten everyone into being nice to you or threaten everyone into avoiding you entirely?” Izzy jokes. At least, he’s relatively certain she’s joking.

“I’m hoping they warm up to me eventually,” Raphael admits. “This isn’t exactly a… what did Simon call it… a single-player game,” Raphael recalls. Shadowhunters have to work together on patrols and missions, they have to be a team. They have to trust each other. He can’t do that if he isolates himself the way he’s used to. “I can take care of myself, but I guess that’s the one thing the Academy managed to drill into me - it’ll rarely be just me out here.”

Izzy’s smile softens. “They will,” she reassures him. “Once they get to know you they’ll love you as much as I do.”

Raphael’s heart skips a beat at her words, and Isabelle suddenly looks very preoccupied with the ground in front of her as she quickens her pace to walk a few steps ahead.

---

It’s better than he ever hoped it would be. Raphael could admit to himself, at the very least, that the idea of becoming a Shadowhunter was more than a little idealistic. He’d accepted it as his only way back into the world he missed, accepted it as a compromise that allowed him back into the Shadow World at all, but the longer he’s here the more suited he finds himself to the lifestyle of the Nephilim.

He’s a good fighter, and he gets better once the others trust him enough to train and spar with him. He’s also a good teammate - he always was, even before he went to the Academy. The number of times he put the good of the Clan before his own wellbeing, the risks he took for them, leave him with the same instincts to use on missions, just for the sake of a different group of people.

Mostly it just feels good to help people. It’s what he always wanted to do, what he tried to do even as a vampire, but now he can make the sort of difference protecting people that he set out to do even as a child, as that teenage boy going after los vampiros to protect his family and friends. His family may be long gone but he has a new family now, new friends, and he can still protect them.

Once he settles and begins to drop his guard, he starts to notice, to really notice, Isabelle. At first, he thought she was just spending time with him to keep an eye on him during his transition, but she seems to genuinely enjoy his company. They find themselves spending their free time together, whether it’s going out and exploring new places to eat or staying in and losing hours to talking, or simply existing in each other’s space.

“Missed you at breakfast this morning,” Izzy says one day after Raphael oversleeps and misses the normally shared mealtime. It’s such a casual statement, but it catches him off-guard. He never imagines himself as a presence that would be missed, but Izzy misses him when he isn’t around.

He can’t help but remember another time, not so long ago when he thought there might be something between them. The timing had been off then, but now…

“What’s that look for?” Izzy asks, breaking his silent, drifting thoughts.

“I don’t have a ‘look’,” he deflects, quickly looking away.

Maybe there’s something there, but he isn’t going to risk ruining the friendship they have, not until he’s certain.

---

The thing about ‘routine’ missions is that there’s nothing routine about their job - anything can happen. It isn’t anyone’s fault when the demon he’s sent to find ends up finding him first, and his small group is descended on by more elapid demons than they expect.

Raphael gets caught not once, but twice, by the venom-laced fangs of the demons, but manages to keep fighting until they’re almost taken care of before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

He awakens in the Infirmary of the Institute, to the red eyes and tense features of a very worried Isabelle Lightwood.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she says, then promptly collapses against his chest in relief, her hand clutched over his own where it rests beside him on the bed.

“I thought… I was so worried…” Isabelle starts, then stops, then starts again, the words mumbled against the sheet draped over him. “Ugh, this is awful, how do Alec and Magnus make these dramatic declarations so flawlessly all the time?”

“I love you too, Isabelle,” Raphael says, and Izzy looks up at him with a smile he never wants to see leave her face again.

---

It takes a little while for word to spread that the two of them are a couple, mostly because of Raphael’s dislike of public displays of affection. Isabelle never pushes him, she never asks for more than he’s willing to give, never expects anything other than his returned feelings for her.

“I know you’re not interested in sex,” she says to him early on. “And I’m not sure what else you are, or aren’t into, but whatever it is, I’m fine with it.”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Izzy nods. “Really. I have you, right here, just as you are. That’s all I need.” It takes him a little while to believe her, but that trust comes the way everything else did with Isabelle - after she proves time and time again to be a woman of her word. She never moves to hold his hand, or wrap him in too-tight hugs, or kiss him on the cheek, or the corner of his mouth, or his lips, until he either does it first or tells her it’s fine.

They figure it out slowly, but they figure it out together. He finds a simple, easy happiness with her that he never expected to find in his life, not even when he had an eternity stretched out before him to seek it.

He knows how lucky he is to have found it here, now, with Isabelle.

Raphael plans to keep this love and joy, to make it as strong and permanent as possible, which is how he arrives on Maryse’s doorstep one night. It isn’t the first time he’s been here - Isabelle’s brought him over for the occasional family dinner or drinks - but it’s the first time he’s been here by himself.

“Come in,” Maryse says, with a small grin tugging at the corners of her lips at the sight of him. He imagines it must be obvious why he’s here, that he could probably skip the theatrics of the small speech he has planned, but if he’s going to do this then he’s going to do it right.

“Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?” Maryse offers, already making her way into the kitchen as Raphael closes the door behind him and toes off his shoes next to it.

“Coffee would be lovely, thank you Mrs. Lightwood,” Raphael calls after her.

“Please, Raphael, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Maryse,” she laughs, returning a minute later with two steaming cups of coffee, handing one over to him as they make their way to the table. They sit in companionable silence while they take their first sips until Raphael works up the nerve to speak.

“I’m head-over-heels in love with your daughter,” he begins.

“I know,” Maryse says. “I can tell every time I see the two of you together - and I can tell that she feels the same, too.”

“I certainly hope so,” Raphael admits with a small smile. “She’s been there for me through so much of my transition into a Shadowhunter, and as much as she’s supported me I want to be there to support her as well, through anything the future may have in store for her. She deserves nothing but happiness in life and I’d like the chance to be the one to bring that happiness to her, as much as I can.”

Raphael is aware that the practice of asking for permission to propose is a bit antiquated, that his speech is too formal, that if Isabelle wanted to marry him he’d do it no matter what her mother said. But that doesn’t change the fact that he wants to do this the right way - he wants to make sure she knows he’s serious about her, that he isn’t taking this lightly just because he already lived one lifetime over.

“I’d like to spend the rest of my life with Isabelle by my side. And it would mean a lot to me to have your blessing first.”

Maryse eyes him critically, and for the first time he feels a moment of fear that she might actually say no - it passes the moment a wide smile spreads across Maryse’s lips. “Of course, Raphael. The two of you are so good together. You’re so good for each other. You have my blessing a million times over.”

Raphael smiles back.

“Of course, we both know that it doesn’t matter what either of us says here tonight. No one makes up Isabelle’s mind besides Isabelle. When are you going to ask her?” Maryse asks. They spend the rest of Raphael’s visit discussing his plans for the following day and end it with a promise from Raphael to call Maryse first after it’s done.

Raphael can only hope it’ll be with good news.

---

The proposal is simple. Raphael asks her in the privacy of her room - a room they share more often than not these days - just after they wake up the next morning.

Raphael turns over and watches Isabelle’s eyes flutter open slowly, her expression still soft and hazy from sleep.

“If I could wake up to this sight for the rest of my life, I’d be a very happy man,” Raphael says quietly, the words barely above a whisper.

Isabelle smiles. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promises.

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Raphael says, reaching an arm behind him to open the drawer on the table next to his side of the bed, pulling out a small box. He shifts to sit up slightly, holding it out to her. “Marry me?”

Isabelle shifts up to half-sit beside him, propped up on her elbow and looking from the ring up to Raphael’s face in surprise. Raphael isn’t a fool - he knows there’s a chance she’ll say no. That dating and even love are one thing, but marriage, to a former Downworlder with nothing to his family name, is another entirely.

“Yes,” Isabelle says, dispelling any worries he has with a single word. He slides the ruby engagement ring onto her finger before bringing his lips down to meet hers.

Raphael doesn’t think he’s ever felt more at peace with his place in life than he does at this moment. Not as a child looking out for his friends and siblings on the rough streets of the city, or as a vampire looking out for his clan, or as a human reconciling the decades he spent in a world of magic and angels and demons. Every one of those things was accidental, a decision made for him, a world he was thrust into unwillingly, even if he did his best to accept his place in it as part of a higher purpose.

He still believes in a higher power and that he’s exactly where he needs to be - whether it be God’s will, or Raziel’s - and he likely always will. But he believes in something else now, too, in a way he hadn’t before all of this, before his ascension, before Isabelle: he believes in himself. He’s here because of himself, because of his own will and motivation and desire. He’s exactly where he needs to be, and for the first time, that’s also exactly where he wants and chooses to be.

“Not regretting asking me already, are you?” Izzy asks, her tone light to show she isn’t serious-serious, but curious at the way she notices him lost in his thoughts just then.

“Not at all,” Raphael replies, moving to lay down again and pulling Izzy beside him, wrapping an arm around her. “Quite the opposite - I don’t regret a single choice I’ve made since the day I first walked into your office.”

Izzy smiles at that, warm and comforting, a smile that feels like home.

“That makes two of us.”

[corvidry]

Balter + any combo of pearls

balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment

Balter

Words: 1,688 Fandom: Steven Universe AO3 Link: (x)

"No one's told us to dance," Yellow offered helpfully.

"I know," came Blue's soft reply. Yellow frowned at the brevity of it.

"Then why?"

"Why not?"

If her, then why not us?

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

Blue Pearl settled at her station in the silent corridor, tipping her nose downward toward her companion in greeting.  Yellow Pearl raised her eyebrows in response, but neither one spoke. They fell into the usual wordless reverie, each largely minding their own business as expected of them.

It wasn't that they never talked during these things.  Indeed, lately their Diamonds' meetings had a habit of growing heated and running rather long, but a pearl left to her own devices at this level of frequency tended to run out of material quickly.  There wasn't much gossip to be had today that hadn't been had yesterday or the day before.  With so much constant conference between their courts, Blue sincerely wished she had more to say. She'd been friends with Yellow Pearl for thousands of years, but never once had they had this degree of leisure with one another.

A glance back to Yellow revealed that she had chosen to busy herself with one of her holo-screens today. There must have been some clerical task she could take care of with all this free time, but Blue couldn't think of anything for her own sake. No, it would be a long day of standing for her.  Silently she wished she could come up with something similar to do. Any excuse to take out her own screen and draw a little.  Lately all she had wanted to do was draw.

Drawing, of course, was not a new activity for the pearl, but lately it had taken on new life for her.  There was a scene that continued to play in Blue's mind, one she had tried to draw over and over, but never quite could capture correctly. If only she could draw, there would be plenty of time to try and recreate it. To recreate…

The outcome must have been quite bad, she supposed, if pearls weren't being taken into meetings anymore.  

The scene that consumed her, of course, was the same scene that consumed her Diamond. The very moment that left her standing at this entryway for the last several cycles in a row.  She had been lucky enough to see it with her very own eyes. The Earth, the Palanquin, the Quartz…

…the pearl.

Blue had encountered this pearl before, of course, but she needn't say so. Not if nobody was asking.  

And anyway, a pearl behaving in such a disgraceful way was hardly recognizable to begin with.

Except, that wasn't true at all, was it?  No, not at all, and that was what brought the scene once again to the forefront of Blue's mind.  This strange and alien pearl was so familiar in her movement that the violence of it all seemed to melt away from Blue's perception even as the fight continued in full force.  The purposeful swing of her sword, the elegant sway of her stride as she rounded on the next assailant. If Blue hadn't known better, she would have sworn the renegade was dancing. A pearl like any other, helpless to the tune of her own body.

The sight of her stirred something in Blue that she couldn't quite name, a litany of questions flooding her mind all at once. They would continue to pour into every quiet moment and every idle thought. Even now, cycles after the carnage, those questions persisted. How could she capture a pearl like that on her canvas?

How could there be a pearl like that to capture?

Without meaning to, Blue raised her arm. She mimicked the sword in one slow, fluid motion. If a pearl could become something so alien to her understanding, yet still dance like one of them, then…

What were any of them capable of?

"Pff--"

A soft snicker cut through her reverie and Blue settled back into idleness to regard her companion.  Evidently Yellow Pearl had been paying her more mind than she realized.

"What are you doing?"

What, indeed.

"I was thinking of…dancing." The azure pearl's reply came slow and hesitant.  Traitorously sincere in its simplicity.  Yellow Pearl set her brow skeptically.

"Dancing?" she asked. She shifted with an impatient huff as though waiting for clarification, but Blue Pearl offered none, instead raising her arm to demonstrate once again the fluid motion of the renegade's sword.

At this, both turned their gaze instinctively to the entrance of the corridor, waiting for some Diamond or another to emerge and condone the foreign movement. An instant passed, then another. No such Diamond came.

Blue did not ask if her companion recognized the motion, but surely she did. By now every pearl knew this story inside and out.  Sensing the meaning, Yellow began to fidget.

"No one's told us to dance," Yellow offered helpfully.

"I know," came Blue's soft reply. Yellow frowned at the brevity of it.

"Then why?"

"Why not?"

If her, then why not us?

Yellow Pearl seemed to consider this, brushing canary curls from her cheek as she worried the point of her chin with her fingers. There were plenty of reasons, of course. Any pearl could summon a million reasons not to do just about anything, but Yellow seemed to be searching in the other direction.

"Who would have you dance like that?" Yellow asked after a long moment of consideration. Blue noted the absence of her usual contrarian attitude and smiled. Genuine interest was a rarity between them for fancies such as these.

"I suppose…I would," Blue replied, her smile growing conspiratorial. She did a conservative twirl, swinging her splayed fingers toward Yellow with refined grace. She had meant it to be more aggressive, but such a movement proved too unfamiliar for a first attempt.

"You would?" Yellow asked with a snort. She seemed utterly tickled by the notion. "In that case, how would you have me dance?"

Blue frowned at this, retracting her hand. No, she hadn't intended to play the Diamond in this scenario. That wasn't her meaning at all. She sought to clarify.

"How would you have you dance?" Blue asked.  Her voice was soft, cautious in its clear suggestion.

Yellow tilted her head as though she hadn't thought of anything quite like that before. She risked a glance toward the entrance once again before regarding Blue fully.

"Well, if you were to dance like that, then I suppose I'd have to--"

Yellow punctuated with a leap backward as though avoiding a blow, landing with a well-practiced flourish.

"Something like that," she finished, her voice giddy, but uncharacteristically hushed.

The move had been less of a leap and more a stiff hop as the threat of being observed loomed ever present in each of their minds. Silently, they agreed to step exactly four paces away from the corridor entrance. Near enough for plausible deniability, far enough for some cobble-headed delusion of privacy. For a pearl, four paces may as well be a long way.

The instant Blue felt a comfortable distance, she threw herself forward, arm outstretched like the swing of that sword, threatening to tap her newfound opponent at the nearest opportunity. Yellow caught on immediately, twirling at once out of Blue's grasp before returning  with a gentle, albeit less inspired tap of her own.  The two traded 'attacks' like this, each move more graceful and elaborate than the last, occasionally joining hands for short periods to bridge with something more traditional. It wasn't until Yellow's own panache got the best of her that their dance came crashing to a close. Sliding a little too confidently on the smooth tile floor, Yellow reached desperately for something to steady herself. Her hands found only the tulle of Blue's dressform, pulling them both to the ground in a heap.

"I've been defeated," Blue hummed, her grin wide. It was hardly the voice of a gem who had been bested in combat, but she supposed it a solid first attempt.

"Get off," Yellow huffed, pushing roughly at Blue's ribs. Blue Pearl obliged, laughing good naturedly as she began to right herself.  In spite of everything, Yellow couldn't help but laugh as well.  Something about their movements had churned the air lighter. At once they set to begin again.

Blue Pearl had just found her stride for the second time when the two stumbled to a screeching halt at sound of booming voices growing ever louder.  Their Diamonds were approaching.

"I'm telling you, Blue, all you're doing is torturing yourself. The Earth colony is a total waste.  What's the point of keeping any part of it now that--?"

The huge door the two pearls had meant to attend slid open. Two towering diamonds stepped out into the corridor.  Instantly, both pearls stood at attention, their eyes growing teary despite the elation each felt only moments ago.  As if on cue, the cause of those tears spoke out, her voice loud and shrill.

"BUT IT WAS HERS!!"

"Well she's not here." Yellow Diamond shot back. "You can't just keep clinging to that horrid little planet like it's going to bring her back."

Blue scowled, huge tears dripping from her form as she gathered her pearl in her hands. By now Blue Pearl's face had begun to flood from the close contact.

"We have to come to some agreement about this." Blue Diamond said gravely. "We're never going to reach one if you insist on being so unreasonable."

Yellow Diamond let out a scoff, motioning for her pearl to follow her.

"We'll see."

The corridor filled with the light of the warp pad before all was still once again. No more dancing, no more loud voices, just the soft sniffle of Blue Diamond standing alone with her pearl clutched gently in her hands.

"She doesn't understand," fretted the diamond to her pearl.  "Pink is worth remembering."

Blue Pearl, well versed in the role she was to play in this exchange, prepared to reach from her Diamond's grasp to wipe at the grand teardrops that would almost certainly be soaking her in the next moment or two.  

"That planet has many things worth remembering," her Diamond murmured between sobs.

Extending her hand like the elegant point of that sword, Blue Pearl resolved that she couldn't agree more.

[momothegeckho]

arranged. | 02

Summary: Chiara was living out her days normally, when against her will, she is betrothed to Seto Kaiba for a business deal. She does not approve, and expects Kaiba not to either... until she hears he is the one who facilitated this deal.

The OC is Chiara Fuyu, daughter to one of the best holotech labs internationally, named Fuyu Corp. Her father agrees to have her married to Seto on grounds of uniting Fuyu Corp under Kaiba Corp.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

As soon as I signed that paper, I knew I had sealed something that I couldn’t get back.

My father looked away from me, patting my shoulder as if I had done the right thing listening to him, but if I had, why was he so distraught?

Kaiba, on the other hand, just smirked and tried to take the contract back. Before he could, I grabbed it and began reading the details of this merger. What had I just signed off to?

As I skimmed the contract looking for the terms, I came across the one thing I had not truly consented to. Written among the terms, was my consent.

‘If both parties agree to this Merger and Acquisitions contract, Chiara Fuyu and Seto Kaiba will also be consenting to marriage to truly unite both companies as agreed to in front of an honorable judge of law...’

“What the hell is this?!” I slammed the paper back down and looked at my father, who still could not look me in my face. “You made me consent to marrying Kaiba? How could you! I’m not even old enough to marry yet!”

Before my father could speak, Kaiba stood up, sliding the papers in his direction.

“We both know for the moment you are underage, which is why your father signed as well, consenting to these terms. We won’t be getting married until you have turned 18 and have been that age for at least half a year.”

I looked at Kaiba, turning my body towards him and glaring daggers. There was no way Kaiba wanted to do this either, so why was he being so smug about it?

“And you? Why are you even agreeing to this? Everyone knows you Kaiba, this type of thing would never fly for you!”

I thought I had made a good point to him, getting him to see my side, but all he did was chuckle to himself and look at me with his usual entitled look.

“Ms. Fuyu. Who do you think agreed to this contract in the first place?”

✦✧✦✧

I stood frozen as he pulled out a pen and wrote his signature under mine. This had been his plan all along? Why? All of these questions ran through my head when my father touched my shoulder and turned me towards him.

“This is the smartest move. I promise you it isn’t as bad as it seems.”

“How? How could this possibly not look bad? You signed me away for your business! How could you!?”

Before I could say anymore, my hand was grabbed and I was slightly pulled away from my father. I looked backup to Kaiba and watched as he gracefully got on one knee, looking back up to me with the most intimidating and smug glare, a smirk on his face.

“Ms. Chiara Fuyu. To unite our corporations and continue to keep our partnership, will you marry me?”

The whole proposal was laced with sinister tones, and I couldn’t help but shrug my hand away. How was I supposed to do this? Why was I expected to do this? Before I could scream no and try to rip the contract, my father stopped me once more and told me something that I could not ignore.

“Chiara. I never want to put you in this position, but if we can’t do this, Fuyu Corp will lose all credibility and we will become Bankrupt. All of the foundations you created for animal and child welfare will get foreclosed.”

My father allowed me to open up donating services in the name of Fuyu Corp, and so far, they had helped many people get back on their feet. So many animals found treatment and better homes… so many children were cared for. There was no way I could let that go to ruin... and so…

“Kaiba.”

He looked at me. No signs of a smile on his face.

“I... accept your proposal. I will become Mrs. Chiara Kaiba, for the sake of the Corporation.”

He smirked once again and took a small box out of his pocket. It was a ring. It was actually a nice ring, it was simple silver, but at the top of it was my birthstone... I suppose my father had thought of it in case I was actually excited about this whole thing... That was farther from the truth.

I wasn’t ready to be married. I had barely even gotten to be my own person, and now, not only was I taking on my own parts of the Fuyu Corporation, but now I had duties as Seto Kaiba’s betrothed. Some life.

“I suppose we should start the transition, then?” Kaiba moved past me and opened our front door, allowing some of his men to step in.

“What do you mean, transition? What are we moving?” I looked to my father who finally looked at me, with so much sorrow that it spoke for him.

“You... will be moving with Kaiba to get accustomed to your new home.”

How did they expect me to be calm about this? I reacted the way I saw fit, meaning I rushed past them all and locked myself in my room. At first, there was a lot of noise from everyone banging at my door, trying to get me to come out. Then, Seto silenced them all. I could tell he was plotting something.

“She’ll have to come out, sooner or later.”

He was right. I couldn’t stay locked up in here, but if I left, they would take me. So, I waited a few hours until it turned to noon, and I decided to sneak out. I changed my clothes and covered up my hair to make me less conspicuous on the streets, and I headed for the window. I had to get out of there. I jumped out of my window to a nearby tree and booked it out of a small opening I made in our gate. Maybe they would give up if I wasn’t there.

I spent a lot of time just roaming the streets. Trying to piece everything together. How my father got caught up in this... Why Kaiba wanted me as a wife... I still couldn’t find answers.

It had been a few more minutes walking and I had forgotten momentarily about my issues. I met a nice group of kids who I played duel monsters with regularly, teaching them techniques I knew from playing most of my life. They enjoyed my company, and I was so happy, until I saw a familiar car turn the corner, a car I knew belonged to Kaiba. I made a run for it after hastily leaving my new friends, and made it to an alleyway to another street. I thought I had made it, until someone grabbed my arm and yanked me.

“You are really troublesome, you know?” It was Seto. I pulled as hard as I could against his grip and tripped over myself as I ran. I knew there was no point in running, since he had already found me and was in hot pursuit. I was cut off by another car, and watched as my father got out and stood in front of me.

“Chiara... stop running. You know that this is childish, even for you. Come with us. We already moved your things.”

I had to try. Even if there was a small window, I had to try and run. I tried to duck around my father as fast as possible, but he caught my arm and pulled my body back towards him, holding my shoulders firmly. Kaiba was getting closer…

“Dad, please! Let me go! Don’t make me do this!”

I almost cried. I was scared. Who wouldn’t be? I didn’t want to be married, and now I was being moved to said person’s house? This was so messed up.

“It isn’t as bad as you think... just agree to it for now. The Merger is solid, but we both have our compromises.”

I stopped for a second and looked at him. Rules? What did he mean? Kaiba agreed to let me ride with my father so we could discuss it more, and during that ride, my father told me something. Something useful.

“The merger is solid, but very weak in accordance to the marriage. If the marriage were to fail, we would separate for good. If Kaiba were to touch you at all before you turn 18, our agreement is forfeit... and if I believe you are endangered in any way, I can cancel the marriage for good.”

Well it was definitely useful information, but could I really use it? There were only three things circulating through my mind at that moment:

1, get Kaiba to touch me before my time is up, 2, put myself in extreme danger under Kaiba’s watch and 3, there was no way in heLL that Kaiba would fall for any of it.

The only way half of those strategies would work is if I was batshit crazy enough to put myself in danger. Still, these compromises would definitely come in handy. 

I’m sure my father could tell I was plotting, but it would be too much of a task to stop me, so he let me be. It had gotten quite late during our drive to Kaiba’s home, and the draft had gotten stronger, colder, and I could tell we were either close to mountains, or the ocean, since those were the only places wind would pick up this way. 

When we arrived, I stepped out, really bothered by the cold air and greeted by a giant, quiet, yet artistic sight of Kaiba’s home. I didn’t know they still made homes this large... but no matter how big it was, it just seemed so lonely, and cold. Whether it was actually that sad, or if I was just looking for a reason to be uncomfortable, either way, I was broken.

I know some people would look at me if they could hear my thoughts and scoff.

“Is it really that bad to be engaged to THE Seto Kaiba?”

Yes. Yes it is. If I really wanted marry a sadistic and entitled bastard, I would have married a serial killer. Tears came to my eyes and threatened to fall once more. I looked back to my father, hoping for some comfort, only to notice he was still in the car, face turned away from me. He wasn’t going to say goodbye. I understood. He was saying goodbye to his last child, this time taken away from him because of a contract.

The wind was so cold, and my hands hurt from clutching my arms so tightly, until I felt the warmth of a jacket over me. The smell was refined, almost comforting as I took the fabric into my hands. I watched Kaiba walk ahead of me, jacketless as he talked with the men in front of him, most likely discussing the details of my furniture. He turned back to me, as stone-faced as usual.

“Are you going to freeze out here? Just come inside, already.”

I was hesitant in walking forward. I looked back to where my father should have been, waving me off, but instead, his car took off down the road. He had truly left me.

I couldn’t cry, but I sure felt betrayed. I walked a bit behind Kaiba as we approached his home, and the more we walked, the bigger the place got. As soon as he entered, I instantly scurried inside to avoid anymore cold and stood in place, not knowing what to do.

“You aren’t a statue.” Kaiba turned to me, his hand slipped into his pocket, and he pulled out a piece of paper. “Go find your room and get accustomed. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

He seemed nice enough about this whole thing. He wasn’t rubbing it in my face at all, and he actually seemed to be more gentle than usual. In fact, the whole time today, he was being softer than what I saw of him. I couldn’t let him lead me on, though. He was manipulative. 

I found my room quickly and stood frozen in shock. For one, It seemed as though my room became some sort of personal wonderland. Everything looked so new, from the new desk I had and the new laptop on top of it, to the especially comfortable looking bed. The whole room was like something out of my wildest dreams! I had let down my guard and became frightened when I heard someone walk in behind me.

“I take it you are enjoying your new quarters? Your father allowed us to take some designs you liked and cater to what you wanted. Happy?”

He didn’t have to go through so much trouble. This was a nice thing to do, especially for Kaiba... which made me more confused. Why was he being so nice?

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. You should change into something more comfortable. You also have your own bathroom through your closet over there. Don’t take too long.”

With that, he left. My room was very elaborate, I’ll give him that. But why was everything so... tense. The air was so thick. yet everything was supposed to be more fluid. Was Kaiba... tense?

I shook myself of the thought and went to shower. No way. Not Kaiba.

/////////

1, Part 3 

[artificialqueens]

nobody knows where we might end up (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr)

Summary:  Brooke makes eye contact with Vanessa - no, Dr. Mateo - and has to resist the strange urge in her chest that wants her to bolt for the nearest door and leave the fucking hospital. Blood is rushing in her ears and it’s a bit harder to breathe and she’s pretty sure that her lungs should be at full capacity. So why does she feel like she’s about to keel over?

“Oh, we’ve definitely met.” Dr. Mateo’s voice is wry, her eyes narrowing in Brooke’s direction.

Fuck. She’s Dr. Hytes, for Pete’s sake. Neurosurgery god. She’s not going to be intimidated by a cardiothoracic surgeon, of all people, no matter their past… history.

Hospital AU.

AN: I’ve had some free time recently and surprise surprise, started another multichap fic. Special thanks to writ for listening to me ramble about this idea, helping me brainstorm, and betaing (as well as providing hilarious commentary). Also thanks to multifandomgeek for being totally understanding of me having a WIP with a similar prompt to their latest fic even though they’ve both turned out so different, as well as for being a great cheerleader of mine and having the cutest headcanons for it. Enjoy!

(then)

“Welcome to Human Physiology One.” The professor’s voice is sharp as he surveys the packed lecture hall with a beady gaze. 

Brooke unconsciously straightens in her seat. Her fingers drum against her desk, a mixture of nervous energy and excitement alike. 

She’s made it to the University of Toronto for Health Sciences at the undergraduate level, which means she’s one step closer to getting into U of T’s prestigious medical school a few years down the line. She’s already secured shadowing and volunteer jobs in most of the hospitals located along Hospital Row, because, well, she has to. 

How else is she going to become a surgeon?

The professor continues on. “This course is going to cover all of the major bodily systems - circulatory, neurological, urological, immune systems, and more at the basic level. Enough to give you a general understanding of how they work.”

He fixes them with a beady gaze. “Make no mistake, though. The introductory nature of this class doesn’t mean that it’ll be easy like the rest of your 100 level courses. If you are expecting such, feel free to leave through the doors now.”

No one does. 

“Very well.” The professor pulls up a PowerPoint. “You can read the syllabus on your own time. We’re starting on neuro.” 

“Sorry, excuse me, sorry-” Brooke looks over to see her row being disrupted as a girl in an oversized jacket that brushes her thighs shuffles in towards the only empty seat left in the lecture hall. The one beside Brooke. 

Brooke feels a flash of irritation. Who’s late on the first damn day? 

The girl settles in, dropping her messenger bag and pulling out her laptop. She flashes a smile at Brooke, one that falters when Brooke doesn’t immediately return it. 

Brooke turns away from the girl, turning her attention back to the lecture. Her hands fly over her keyboard, writing down everything that is coming out of the professor’s mouth because what if something he mentions now ends up being really important and shows up on the final exam? She doesn’t want to miss anything. 

Except for the fact that the girl’s leg is bouncing up and down beside her. 

Brooke’s trying to write a note about synapses and neural clefts, but the girl is twitching so much, leg bouncing on her seat, that she finds focusing on the professor’s voice practically impossible. The edge of the girl’s shirt-dress is rising higher and higher over her thighs, revealing more and more of her fishnet tights underneath-

Nope. Brooke’s gotta focus. She’s missed at least two things that the professor’s said already and it’s only the first lecture. She can’t start off like this. 

Brooke keeps typing, albeit a bit slower because the girl’s bouncing leg is incredibly distracting and god fucking damn it, why can’t people just sit still in class?

But then the girl raises her hand, leaning forward in her seat and Brooke realizes that she’s missed the question that the professor has asked the class. Shit.

“Yes, you.”

“In an action potential, sodium ions rush into the axon and de-dep-depolarize it.” The girl rattles off the information like she’s fucking Hermione Granger or something, though a little less refined. 

“Exactly.” The professor looks pleased. Damn it. “And your name is?”  

“Vanessa.” The girl, Vanessa, looks satisfied with herself, leaning back in her seat and returning her attention to her laptop. 

Bouncing her fucking leg once more, because of course she is. But Brooke’s not going to be distracted by her again. She’s going to get the next question, because that’s what she does.  

Her hand shoots up before the professor even finishes speaking. 

“Yes?”

“Acetylcholine is the neurotransmitter that is necessary to complete the reaction.” Brooke rattles off the information that’s thankfully familiar to her from grade twelve biology with ease. 

“Very good.” Brooke feels an air of pride rush through her at the professor’s words. “Name?”

“Brooke.” Not a bad idea to make herself familiar with the professors in all of her classes from week one. Put herself on their radars. 

“Excellent, Brooke.” The professor turns back to his lecture slides then, oblivious to the rush of adrenaline that’s currently going through Brooke’s system. 

She’s pathetic sometimes, she really is. But hey, if it gets her the good marks that she’s going to need in the future, does it even matter?

Vanessa answers question after question and asks ones of her own that make Brooke stop and think along with the professor. Brooke has to admit to herself, albeit bregrudgingly, that Vanessa is smart. Really smart. It’s undeniable, from the way her hand pops up every five minutes. 

Brooke may or may not be feeling a little threatened, intimidated by the girl beside her - how’d Vanessa get so smart? And why hasn’t Brooke thought of the questions she’s asking, like the one about hyperpolarization?

Brooke shoots another look at Vanessa from behind her hair, hoping that she isn’t too obvious. In her earlier annoyance, she’s missed how pretty the girl is. Vanessa runs a hand through her hair, pushing the dark waves out of her face and leaning forward to type notes with her other hand. 

“Brooke?” 

“Huh?” Fuck. She’s completely missed the professor’s question. Of course. Typical of her to do something so stupid on the first day. 

Brooke starts to rack her brain for a generic answer based on the lecture slide when Vanessa nudges her. “Graded potentials. That’s the answer. Say it.”

Well. She has nothing to lose at this point, does she?

“Graded potentials?” Brooke says it loud enough for the professor to hear, though she almost doesn’t hear her voice herself from how loud her heart feels like it’s beating. 

“Good.” He continues on without a second look at their row, and Brooke lets out a sigh of relief. 

Vanessa truly, utterly saving her ass isn’t what she expected, but she’ll take what she can get. “Jeez. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no big.” Vanessa’s smiling at her again, one that reaches her eyes and makes them crinkle and on an unrelated note, Brooke feels her stomach flipping with what must be indigestion. “Brooke, right?”

“Yeah.” She whispers it because the professor is still talking, after all. “Vanessa?” 

“That’s me. My friends call me Vanjie, though.” 

Brooke wrinkles her nose. “How’d you get that nickname from the name Vanessa?” 

“I didn’t.” Vanessa winks at her but then turns back to the front, lifting up a hand to answer a question before Brooke can protest. 

How did she even catch the question that the professor asked in the first place? 

Brooke tries her best to go back to paying attention, but it’s hard when Vanessa is beside her and some of her long hair is on Brooke’s desk, looking really soft. Brooke has to resist touching it - she’s not a creep. 

Brooke’s notes during the rest of the lecture are most definitely not up to her usual standards, though she only has herself to blame for it. She’ll do better next time. She has to. 

Though if Vanessa’s beside her again, she may have a problem. Not that she’s all too mad about it anymore. 

Vanessa’s out of her seat the second that the professor wraps up, pulling on her oversized jacket on top of her shirt dress. She sticks her laptop into her messenger bag before turning towards Brooke, who definitely has not been watching Vanessa the entire time. Nope. Absolutely not. 

“So, you this keen in all of your classes?” Vanessa has a smile on her face as she says it. 

“I’m not a nerd.” Brooke’s protests are feeble because she kind of is - not that she wants to admit it. 

“Didn’t say you were. It’s kinda cute, though.” With that Vanessa winks, pulling her bag onto her shoulder and heading towards the aisle to leave the lecture hall. 

“This time next week?” Vanessa shouts it at her from the aisle as she leaves, and for some reason it makes Brooke flush crimson. 

The lecture hall is almost empty before she realizes that she has to pack up her own books and leave, too.  

 (now)

“The resection is scheduled for tomorrow at 2 PM. Bar any information that we’ve possibly missed in our review just now - which is highly unlikely - the surgery should be successful, leaving Mrs. Reynolds tumour-free in no time at all.” 

No members of the surgery team, not the nurses, the anesthesiologist, nor any technicians question Brooke’s words. Just how she likes it. 

No one mentions that the success rate for this particular pituitary gland tumour removal is less than 10%. Because with Brooke, odds like these don’t matter. 

She’s that good. 

Brooke wraps up the preoperative meeting with a wave of her hand, letting the members of her surgical team leave to return to their respective duties. 

She checks her watch. She has a craniotomy scheduled to take place in half an hour, then a consult with a particularly complex patient and the team at 3, then some time allotted for her research. A pretty breezy day by her standards. 

Brooke heads in the direction of the hospital Starbucks next, intent on gulping down a double espresso before her next operation. Can’t be opening up a patient’s skull uncaffeinated and tired.  

“Dr. Hytes!” Brooke’s head snaps up at her name while she’s waiting for her drink order to be ready. No one is usually bold enough to call for her like that except for-

“Dr. West.” Nina West, Chief of Hospital and pediatric attending surgeon, not to mention Brooke’s fellow alumni from medical school. 

“I was hoping I’d catch you. Got some pretty exciting news.” Nina’s eyes are practically sparkling. 

Brooke takes a sip of her drink. “The only thing that could explain that smile is if we’ve finally hired a worthy-”

“We finally have a new cardiothoracic surgery head!” Nina’s excitement radiates off of her in waves. Sometimes, she reminds Brooke of a Disney character. “Someone who is actually renowned and has appropriate qualifications and who I had to fight off St. Joe’s Hospital for. But we got her!”

“Must be someone pretty incredible to get you this excited.” Brooke is curious as to who could have gotten Nina this riled up. Brooke had declined a spot on the selection committee a few months prior, busy at the time with one of her research trials. She hasn’t heard any gossip on the floors as to who the chosen candidate could be. Not that Nina will be able to hold it back for much longer. 

“I’m supposed to give her a tour of the cardio floors and the team today. She’s just moved back to Toronto, so she’s starting next week. In fact, she should be in the atrium here any moment now.” Nina cranes her neck, trying to look around the space. 

“You still haven’t told me who-”

Brooke is cut off when Nina calls out, looking past Brooke towards someone behind her. “Dr. Mateo! So nice to see you again!”

Mateo?

No. Couldn’t be. 

“Wonderful to see you too, Dr. West.”

There’s no mistaking that voice. 

Fuck . She’s screwed. 

“Have you met Dr. Hytes? Pride of our neurosurgery department. A bit separate from your cardiothoracic surgery expertise, but maybe you two have run into each other sometime at a conference before?” Nina’s grabbing Brooke’s shoulders, turning her around to face her and Brooke winces, squeezes her eyes shuts because no, no, no. 

Except when she opens her eyes, there she is. In the flesh. Nearly eleven years later. 

She has the same wavy long hair but has swapped her undergraduate outfits for a pencil skirt and blazer and immaculate makeup and fuck. 

She looks good. 

Brooke makes eye contact with Vanessa - no, Dr. Mateo - and has to resist the strange urge in her chest that wants her to bolt for the nearest door and leave the fucking hospital. Blood is rushing in her ears and it’s a bit harder to breathe and she’s pretty sure that her lungs should be at full capacity. So why does she feel like she’s about to keel over? 

“Oh, we’ve definitely met.” Dr. Mateo’s voice is wry, her eyes narrowing in Brooke’s direction. 

Fuck. She’s Dr. Hytes, for Pete’s sake. Neurosurgery god. She’s not going to be intimidated by a cardiothoracic surgeon, of all people, no matter their past… history. 

It doesn’t matter. Brooke’s a professional. She’s the shit. Everyone in this hospital knows it. 

So she puts on her best neutral facial expression, walks up to Dr. Mateo. Towers over her, naturally (like she always used to, not that it matters). Raises an eyebrow. 

Dr. Mateo stares right back. Still makes Brooke’s heart flip in the same way. 

Nah, probably just some acid reflux. She needs a Tums. 

“Nice to see you again.” Brooke says it with a tone that implies that it most definitely is not nice to see her again, no ma’am. 

Not that it’ll matter. They’re completely different disciplines. Who’s to say that they’ll even interact?

“I could say the same.” Dr. Mateo’s tone, meanwhile, implies that she most definitely cannot say the same. But considering how things ended, who can blame her?

Brooke chances a glance at Nina, who looks really fucking confused, her nose wrinkling. It makes Brooke want to laugh. Oh, Nina. Not quite privy to this part of Brooke’s history. 

Who needs to know? It had happened a decade ago. She’s moved on, she’s a professional. They’re both professionals. They can act like it.

Right?

Brooke takes a final sip of her drink, turning away to toss the cup into the trash. She fixes both of them with a blank stare, lips pursed. 

“Need to leave now or I’m going to be late for my 1:00. Shame.” As if Brooke isn’t absolutely itching to remove herself from the conversation, get as far away from her as possible because fuck, she really should have joined the selection committee and vetoed Dr. Mateo from the list of candidates. 

“See you around the hospital, Dr. Mateo.” Brooke turns on her heel, walking away before Dr. Mateo even has a chance to answer. 

Power or cowardly move? She can’t decide. But she needs the distance, needs to get away from Dr. Mateo and the memories that are rushing back to her, ones that she had locked away in the recesses of her brain because they were too much to deal with. 

Brooke only lets out a breath and drops her head into her hands once she’s in a mercifully empty elevator. The closing doors feel a world away from Nina’s confused stare and Dr. Mateo’s disdainful look, neither of which she wants to deal with again anytime soon. 

She’s interacted with exes before, remaining friends with quite a few of them, but something about Dr. Mateo makes her feel like she’s a time bomb, about to explode any second from the rush of memories and useless emotions that she doesn’t care for at all, at this moment. 

Brooke needs to go to pre-op, get ready to scrub in and find her team, but her brain is finding it hard to focus on her plan for the upcoming surgery because Jesus Christ. 

She’s fucked. 

[theshatteredrose]

Turquoise Lotus Father (Treasure Seekers Saga 2) - Chapter 14 - Etrian Odyssey 5 Fanfiction

AN: Annnd another update~ If everything goes well, we’re about halfway through this saga, so there’s a lot more action to come! Hope you have been taking care of yourself and enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet

Chapter 14:

With his shield already resting reassuringly upon his back, Drayce took a moment to examine his cannon and ensured that everything was in working order. He had cleaned it the night before out of the need to do something constructive. But needed to double check to settle his own mind. The last thing he wanted in a situation was for his own weapon deciding not to work.

The monsters of the labyrinth weren’t their only adversaries, after all.

And he felt Ashton’s gaze on him the entire time.

“You up for a trek in the labyrinth?” he finally asked, seemingly unable to hold back his fussing for a second longer.

“Yeah, really,” Drayce immediately replied as he holstered his cannon and turned to the oh-so dedicated care-taker. “I’m fine now. Fio says that whatever they used on me is no longer in my system.”

“I did say that, but you still need to be careful,” Fiorello added as he idly patted his medical knapsack. “If you get hit with it again, you’ll go down extra hard.”

“Then I’ll make sure not to get hit again,” he promised. But it did little to ease the concerns of the others.

Drayce understood everyone’s concern. But he also understood that time, and bandits, were not on their side. Besides, if it was him that was somehow compromised, then that was fine. As long as no one else of his guild was.

Speaking of his guild, everyone had gathered into the seating room as Drayce readied himself for an excursion into the labyrinth. Though they didn’t say anything, he could see the worry in their gazes.

“Listen, I understand everyone’s concern about me, but now isn’t the time to worry,” he stated, directing his words toward everyone of his guild. “We need to find those lotus blades before those bandits do. I don’t know why they’re after them, but I do know we can’t afford to let someone like Keane near the Cursed Blade.”

He could say that the situation was serious. If the blade worked alongside the Despot and aided in his conquest of the labyrinth, then it was dangerous. Too dangerous to fall into idle, or worst, malicious hands.

“He’s right,” Shashi uttered, breaking the silence. “And if anyone is to find these lotuses, it will be the grandson of Roux.”

The frown that tugged at Ashton’s lips indicated that he wanted to argue, but saw the truth in their words nevertheless. “Fine,” he finally relented, but not before giving Drayce a very pointed look. “Just don’t try to handle anything by yourself.”

“…I won’t,” Drayce found himself unexpectedly hesitating for a moment. But he hoped that the delay wasn’t entirely noticeable.

He just…couldn’t help but allow his mind wander back to what Keane said to him yesterday. The threat he left hanging over him.

“Unfortunately, you might have to, this time,” Shashi suddenly stated.

Drayce blinked, pulled suddenly from his thoughts. He then turned to face Shashi’s direction and gave him a slightly confused look. “Huh?”

Shashi walked over to him as he reached his hand into his pocket of his coat. He then pulled out an old, bronze compass. Yet, it had a few crystals and no doubt celestian’s symbols engraved upon the fading metal.

“Take this,” he said as he presented the compass to him, to which Drayce instinctively took in his hand. “This will allow you to detect mana. Unfortunately, it will only work once. Mana detection is a refined skill that only celestians can use, and not without teachings since birth. It will lead you to a source of mana just once before it loses its power. It will take time for me to infuse it with that ability again. Just hope that it leads you to the token and not to another source of mana.”

“This…is amazing,” Drayce murmured as he stared down at the compass.

An understatement, really! It was unlikely to be as accurate or refined as the skills that Kamali and Zohar possessed. But it was something. An advantage. And it prevented anyone else from getting close to those bandits.

It was perfect. Good ol’ Shashi.

“Thank you, Shashi.”

Shashi granted him a small smile. “Both Kamali and Zohar had detected a token before, so it is likely those bandits will keep a close eye on them. An earthlain like you having the ability to discover the token on your own might give you the edge you need.”

“You are brilliant, Shashi,” Drayce continued with a grin as he placed the compass in his breast pocket, ensuring to keep it safe but close at hand. “I really owe you for this.”

“Even so, be careful,” Shashi cautioned as he looked directly into Drayce’s eyes. “You say that no one’s life is worth a treasure. And that includes you.”

Scholars sure were observant, huh?

“Of course,” Drayce pacified. “Keep a close eye on the map, nevertheless, yeah?”

… … … … …

“There you are,” a voice that was both familiar and becoming increasingly annoyed chirped mockingly happily from somewhere within the foliage of the labyrinth. “We’ve been waiting for you~”

Drayce uttered a sigh aloud. “We had figured as much,” he said simply as he lifted his head and immediately narrowed in on a smirking Keita and a partly hidden Runihura.

He wasn’t all that surprised to see either of them, however. He just figured they would wait just a little bit longer to make their…entrance, as it were. They’ve only been in the labyrinth less than ten minutes.

“So,” Fiorello said slowly, the tone of his voice surprisingly bitter and accusatory. “You’re the one responsible for that sleep potion, hm? Or, perhaps, a botanist is also involved?”

Runihura twitched. No, it was more of a wince.

“Hmm…” Fiorello must have noticed the wince, too, as his eyes narrowed. “They may be good with poisons, yet still a novice with the bandaging.”

Bandages? Oh…Fiorello was observant. And right. There were multiple bandages covering Runihura’s arms and legs. And likely more under the think leather that he wore. He certainly didn’t have those the last time they met in the labyrinth. Had they attempted to search for another token on their own only to encounter trouble?

“H-hey, are you all right?” Drayce found himself asking before he had the chance to second guess himself.

Runihura lifted his gaze sharply to send him a lot of utter…confusion. He didn’t say anything, though there was definitely a questioning expression in his eyes.

“You’re injured,” Drayce said dumbly as he indicated to the myriad of white bandages peeking out from behind his dark leather.

“It’s…Nothing of your concern,” Runihura uttered as he swiftly looked away, keeping his eyes away from him.

Drayce simply looked sympathetically at the harbinger. He couldn’t help but wonder if those injuries were because of someone else?

A soft pressure on the small of his back prompted Drayce to instinctively turn his head to the side slightly in Zohar’s direction. And like previously, the necromancer leaned down to whisper to him.

“Kamali and I can sense mana close by,” he explained. “To the path on the right.”

Drayce resisted the urge to immediately look in the direction indicated and chose to simply nod his head. “Right.”

As Zohar leaned back, his hand still reassuringly against his back, Drayce turned to regard the two bandits once more. Their postures were similar to their second meeting in the labyrinth. The posture, the expectation; it was almost identical.

They were anticipating their next move. And hopefully, they were focused in on either Zohar or Kamali. Well, not so much focused on them because of sheer protectiveness. But with Drayce making a move, and not anyone else, may give them some advantage.

Still…Drayce was still unsettled by his one-sided confrontation with Keane yesterday. Keane was willing to do anything to get the tokens. The short hostage situation and the break-in at the Crescentia was testament to that. And he was worried to what lengths Keane would go to to get this third token.

A thought suddenly occurred to him as he stared at Keita and Runihura. They were both working for Keane. Along with two others; Bronson, the hard-headed pugilist. And Tomlin, the short, deep-voiced necromancer.

Why weren’t they using Tomlin’s mana detect skill to find the tokens on their own? Why go to the trouble and hassle of waiting for Drayce and his guild to find the tokens first?

There had to be a catch regarding the tokens that Drayce didn’t know about or hadn’t considered. Could they indeed be powered by someone’s intention like Ramus had suggested? Would they only allow themselves to be discovered by someone who know of the Turquoise Lotus Father?

Before Drayce could ponder and muse any further, there was the sound of the rustling of leaves. And the scurrying of many feet on the ground. It was loud, however. Very loud.

The noise was threatening. And familiar.

A moment later, from a narrow path, bursting out in a flurry of leaves and twigs, appeared a large and blue centipede.

“Not another Toxipede!” Drayce called out in alarm.

Great, that was the last thing they needed!

“It’s simply guarding its territory,” Zohar was surprisingly calm, even as the far too large centipede flared its head in their direction and angrily snapped its pincers in an all too threatening manner.

“Whatever its doing, don’t fight it!” Blayke was the one to order allowed.

Zohar nodded his head as the familiar chill promptly followed. A split second later, a familiar white ghost appeared before him. “Theodore and his kin will distract it. Fiorello, Kamali, stay hidden for now.”

“Understood,” Kamali said simply as he stayed back with Fiorello.

“Aw, shit. Looks like you guys need to find that token quickly, huh?” Keita was the one who pointed out that unfortunate fact.

…They didn’t anticipate the Toxipede barging in, did they?

No. They appeared as surprised as they were when the tall blue centipede trundled into view and started snapping its pincers at them.

“Drayce, go!” Blayke suddenly called out to him as he moved to intercept Keita from following. “I’ll handle the brat!

Keita hesitated for a moment, his nose scrunched up in annoyance as he studied Blayke carefully. He no doubt took note of how exceptionally irritated Blayke was. He then looked utterly confused when it finally set in who was to go in search of the token. “Wait, he’s going by himself?”

So, they had anticipated following either Zohar or Kamali.

“I don’t know what they’re planning, but don’t screw up this time, Runi~!” Keita called out to his partner in crime.

So, Drayce was left to race against Runihura. Those injuries were sure to be a burden to him, though he certainly had other…skills in his arsenal should he feel the need. Or the desperation.

Drayce hoped that he didn’t have another dose of that sleep potion stuff he used on him the night before. He didn’t fancy dealing with that kind of tired, bleary aftermath again.

He would not be able to run very fast, or likely very far, with his heavy shield on his back. So, he had to hastily dislodge it, instinctively kicking out the stand so that it stayed upright. If his guild needed something to hide behind, it might be able to offer some help.

Now. Take the path to the right, like Zohar said. And hope that the compass that Shashi gave him would lead him in the right direction.

As Drayce darted down the right path, with Runihura close on his heels, he reached into his jacket pocket to whip out the compass. He quickly glanced down at the magically infused compass and noticed that the crystals had a luminous glow. And the needle was pointing forward. And it wasn’t pointing north. He was fairly good with directions.

It was working. It was pointing in the direction of a source of mana.

Now, he hoped that it was pointing to the lotus token!

As he entered a small clearing that was surrounding in the crystal-clear pools of water, the needle swung wildly to the left. Toward a corner of the clearing. Where a lush patch of powers grew abundantly.

There. That must be the location.

Drayce sharply darted to the left and reached the patches of flowers, summoned a Decoy Shield directly in front of him and promptly swung his cannon around to rest the muzzle atop of the shield. His other hand instinctively searching through the flowery undergrowth for a few agonising seconds. When, finally, he felt something metallic.

He glanced briefly and was greeted by the sight of a small silver coin-shaped object. And within the centre, under a bit of dirt and moss, was the engraving of a lotus.

He actually found it!

“Whew, got it,” he murmured around a sigh of relief.

“No!”

Upon the pained scream, Drayce naturally shot his head up and looked in the direction of the voice. He was surprised to realise that the shout, no scream, seemed to have originated from Runihura.

A breath hitched in his throat when he realised that on the harbinger’s pale face was an expression of desperation. And absolute terror.

“…What?”

“P-Please, I need that treasure! I was sent to find it, if I return without it again-!” he abruptly cut himself off mid-sentence. And, honestly, he didn’t need to finish. Drayce understood the insinuation. What was left unsaid.

Runihura tried to take a step forward, only to collapse pitifully onto the ground. His head hung lowly as he used his forearms in a desperate attempt to push himself to his feet. Surrender. Fear. Pain. That was in his posture.

Those injuries weren’t an accident. Weren’t born from carelessness.

Someone inflicted those upon him.

Drayce dropped his cannon to his side as he dismissed the Decoy Shield. He grasped the token in his hand as he looked at the harbinger before him. He felt nothing but sympathy for the guy. Sure, he had stolen from them. Broke into his guildhouse and attacked him.

But those injuries, and his words…

Drayce silently pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly over to Runihura. He crouched down in front of him and held out his hand. The hand that held the token. “Here, take it.”

Runihura immediately snapped his head up to look at him. And it was then that Drayce realised that he had tears in his eyes. And down his far too pale cheeks. “Huh?”

“Look, I don’t know why you’re so desperate, but I know you’re being honest,” Drayce said as he unfurled his hand to reveal the token. “You’re fighting for someone, aren’t you?”

A sharp intake of air from Runihura was the only answer he got. And it was enough.

“You know the Crescentia. You know how to get in. Take that person there. They’ll be safe there. I promise.”

Runihura stared at him with wide pink eyes. Unblinking. Disbelief on his face. His face suddenly crumbled as tears fogged within his eyes. He looked to the side, as if ashamed before he shakily raised a hand. And retrieved the token from him.

“…Thank you,” he uttered softly before he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

Drayce could only look on with worry as Runihura shuffled awkwardly toward the foliage of the labyrinth, relying heavily upon his scythe to act as a walking aid.

The sound of rustling leaves caused Drayce to lift his gaze toward the canopy of the forest. And his gaze collided with that of none other than Keita. Drayce felt himself tense in annoyance. Yet…he was somewhat curious.

Keita didn’t wear his usual carefree if a bit arrogant expression. He looked genuinely confused, if a bit agitated as well. “You…” he uttered yet trailed off quickly as he continued to simply look at Drayce.

“What?”

“…You’re far too soft, you know that?” Keita finally muttered, his brow furrowed and a frown on his lips. He actually looked as though he simply could not comprehend something. Likely him as a person.

He soon smiled, however. That mockingly playful and conceited smile. “That will be easy to take advantage of, though~” he practically cooed before he jumped off the branch he stood upon and disappeared in the direction that Runihura did only moments ago.

Drayce felt his hand clenched against his side. Take advantage of him, huh?

…Kindness was not a weakness. Nor was it something to be exploited.

Never mind that for now. He needed to check in on the others. He trusted them to keep themselves out of danger. And…he did feel a sense of guilt that he had given up the token in spite of the trouble they went through to get it. But they were sure to understand, right?

Shashi was sure to be keeping a close eye on the map regardless of whether they had retrieved the token.

He just needed to think of a way to get the tokens back from Keane before he found the Cursed Blade himself.

Grasping his cannon tightly, Drayce moved quickly as he retraced his steps. He couldn’t hear the familiar sounds of battling. And while he was still worried, he didn’t feel that intense sense of dread. Something told him that his guildmates were just fine.

They were smart and they were resilient.

Of course they were fine!

“Drayce!”

Even so, Drayce still uttered a small sigh of relief when he heard Blayke’s voice. There was no panic. Just a bit of annoyance. Nothing unusual, really.

“Is everyone all right?” he asked the second everyone of his party gathered in a small clearing.

“We’re fine,” Blayke answered, and Drayce could see that was indeed very true. No marks on his armour, yet alone any injuries. “The bastard decided that it didn’t want to play anymore and wandered off. What happened with you?”

“It’s…they got the token.” Best leave it to that for now. He’ll explain it to everyone in the…relatively safety of the Crescentia.

“Damn it,” Blayke immediate cussed, looking frustrated.

“All is not lost,” Zohar interjected calmly. “Shashi is sure to be keeping a close eye on the map. He would have witnessed something of note, surely.”

If anything occurred on that map, Shashi was sure to have witnessed it. And swiftly documented anything and everything that was revealed. So, the best thing they could do for now was to return home and see what had happened in their absence.

“Right. Let’s head home for now,” Drayce ordered as he pulled out an Ariadne Thread and quickly activated.

As he and his guildmates were enveloped in the white light, Drayce silently hoped that he had done the right thing.

And he hoped that Runihura was going to be all right.

[mhevarujta]

Boris Pavlikovsky: The Child That Wouldn’t Grow Up?

I 've observed that Boris is one of the most beloved characters Donna Tartt has written.  Especially within Thr Goldfinch, he is definitely the one who seems to have been the one to capture the attention of those who have been discussing the book long-term and who may be considered fans.

However, I think that Theo is a much more relatable character. His anxiety, his dark state of mind, the way he experiences grief and trauma are much closer to my own mentality and psychism. I cannot speak for everyone, but I think that this may be true for most readers. As interesting as Boris may be, I'd guess that few are the people who would relate to Boris’ risk-taking, to his disregard of danger, to him priotizing his desires over his well-being, to his impressive ability to adjust to any social circle he finds himself in and to his overall impulsiveness.

And yet the readers adore him. The moral relativism surrounding Boris is something to consider here. He is a liar, a thief, occasionally a drug dealer, a drunk, a drug-addict and he’s even abused a girl. In fact, with the current climate of political correctness and with the strict way it translates on tumblr one would expect Boris to be hated.  However, as a reader I love this character in spite of his shortcomings; not despite of them. 

There is something lovable about him. Throughout the book, no matter what happens, no matter the loss and the abuse he endures or the wretchedness his compulsions bring him to, he maintains an impressive optimism, not because he is blind to life’s hardships but because he’s accepted it and he’s learned to appreciate each moment and to treasure the good ones.

“Potter, Potter, Potter—” affectionate, half-scornful, leaning forward —“you are a blockhead. You have no sense of gratitude or beauty.” “ ‘No sense of gratitude.’ I’ll drink to that, I guess.” “What? Don’t you remember our happy Christmas that one time? Happy days gone by? Never to return? Your dad—” grand flinging gesture—“at the restaurant table? Our feast and joy? Our happy celebration? Don’t you honor that memory in your heart?”

Even as an adult, when he’s become more calculated and reluctant in some occasions, he maintains a plafulness and there’s something genuine about him despite the fact that his easy-going attitude and his numerous acquaintances mask his fear of getting close to people in case he loses them. But it’s never a question of how much of his heart Boris puts out there; it’s a question of whether he lets people in.

I’ve thaught a lot about Boris’ childlike excitement and there is this particular scene that sticks out to me:

“Boris, I’m a minor.” I could feel my panic rising in an all-too-familiar way—maybe the situation wasn’t literally life or death but it sure felt like it, house filling with smoke, exits closing off. “I don’t know how it works in your country but I don’t have any family, no friends out here—” “Me! You have me!” “What are you going to do? Adopt me?” I stood up. “Look, if you’re coming, we need to hurry. Do you have your passport? You’ll need it for the plane.” Boris put his hands up in his Russianate enough already gesture. “Wait! This is happening way too fast .” I stopped, halfway out the door. “What the fuck is your problem, Boris?” “My problem?” “You wanted to run away! It was you who asked me to go with you! Last night.” “Where are you going? New York?” “Where else?” “I want to go someplace warm,” he said instantly. “California.” “That’s crazy. Who do we know—” “California!” he crowed. 

“Well—” Though I knew almost nothing about California, it was safe to assume that (apart from the bar of “California Über Alles” he was humming) Boris knew even less. “Where in California? What town?”

“Who cares?” “It’s a big state.” “Fantastic! It’ll be fun. We’ll stay high all the time—read books—build camp fires. Sleep on the beach.”

In this passage I think that a lot of Boris’ reactions are inspired from Peter Pan, which is fascinating to me because Donna Tartt has said that Peter Pan is the first book she ever read of her own and that it’s one that has unconsciously affected everything she’s ever written. Theo is a Lost Boy that’s ready to return home and we see Boris’ attempt to make him stay to Neverland. Theo has been put in a situation in which ‘running away’ would put him in a situation in which he would have to fend for himself, to survive on his own merit, to grow up early; and at the end of the day Boris is not ready for that.

Even as an adult, Theo is compared by Hobie to the Artful Dodger; a boy in the clothes of a grown up:

“Funny to meet him after hearing so much about him. Like meeting a character in a book. I’d always pictured him as the Artful Dodger in Oliver— oh you know—the little boy, the urchin, what’s the actor’s name. Jack something. Ragged coat. Smear of dirt along the cheek.” “Believe me, he was dirty enough back then.” “Well you know, Dickens doesn’t tell us what happened to the Dodger. Grew up to be a respectable businessman, who knows?

Hobie is wondering about what Dickens didn’t tell us, but I’ll focus on what he did:

‘Hold your tongue, will you?’ said the jailer. ‘I’m an Englishman, ain’t I?’ rejoined the Dodger. ‘Where are my priwileges?’ ‘You’ll get your privileges soon enough,’ retorted the jailer, ‘and pepper with ‘em.’

When the Dodger has to answer for his crimes he tries to be funny, he is arrogant, he threatens and he seems to be feeling entitled to being pardoned. He accepts his punishment sourly. Despite the refined adult-like manner that the Dodger has adopted because of circumstance, Dickens does not allow us to forget how young he is.

On the other hand, while we don’t see Boris being arrested, he is quite ready to face the music when his mistakes are catching up to him. For example, when he feels the weight of what the absense of the painting might have put Theo through, he tries to fix the situation through actions. When he can’t bare Theo’s anger he tries to make amends, but he is fully aware that this anger is justifies. When things get out of hand at Amsterdam, he knows that he is the one who messed up and he is ready to die for Theo to get out of there.

Why should I? Do I really have to say why? Yeah, but what if I don’t feel like it? If you can stop, why wouldn’t you? Live by the sword, die by the sword, said Boris briskly, hitting the button on his very professional-looking medical tourniquet with his chin as he was pushing up his sleeve.]

Boris makes his choices and he sticks by them. There is a book by Tana French called ‘The Likeness’ which is coincidentally inspired by Donna Tartt’s The Secret History and a character expresses the way I think that Boris has chosen to live beautifully: 

“There's a Spanish proverb," he said, "that's always fascinated me. "Take what you want and pay for it, says God.'" "I don't believe in God," Daniel said, "but that principle seems, to me, to have a divinity of its own; a kind of blazing purity. What could be simpler, or more crucial? You can have anything you want, as long as you accept that there is a price and that you will have to pay it.

Boris makes his decisions. He tries to claim as much as he can of what he wants, but at the end of the day he’s ready to pay for it. And ultimately I think that this is the answer to Hobie’s question. This is what became of our own Dodger in The Goldfinch..

 A way of living that started as a coping mechanism and which was meant to be an escape for him became what he could -as an adult- recognize as an actual choice that he was responsible for. Boris, as many characters in the book, is a victim of circumstance but he creates a code for himself and despite his moral relativity he has philosophized life in his own way; a way that is flawed as most people’s but which is not any more right or wrong than Theo’s. It just is and it is not eratic or illogical. It makes sense regardless of whether one agrees with it or not and it shows that, despite his efforts, Boris has inevitably grown up.

[f-nodragonart]

Evolution: An Introduction

so I thought this might be a useful post b/c a lot of stuff we’ve described abt evolution has been spread out over several different posts. now I can just link to this instead of trying to quickly describe something as complex as evolutionary theory, lmao. keep in mind I’m not especially versed in molecular bio-- there are prolly nuances I’m missing here b/c they fly over my “big picture” bio head, so don’t take this as like, a professional review of evolution

anyways this is another longform post, so prepare urself. some of this may be familiar b/c I cut it out of other posts, but most of it is fresh new writing~

Table of Contents

PART 1: Definition

- Genetic Variation/Diversity

- Fitness

- Niche

PART 2: Energy

- Give-and-Take

- Survival vs. Reproduction

PART 3: Speciation

- Species Concepts

- Speciation

PART 4: Taxonomy/Classification

- Cladistic Taxonomy

- Parsimony

PART 5: Some Misconceptions

- Change =/= Improvement

- Impractical =/= Impossible

PART 6: Beyond Darwin

- Epigenetics

- Horizontal Gene Transfer

- Universal Biology

PART 1: Definition

First, a ‘brief’ definition of Darwinian evolution:

Random genetic mutations regularly occur during meiosis (the sexual cell division giving rise to gametes/embryos) and increase the genetic diversity in a species’/community’s gene pool. As environmental conditions naturally shift over time, certain conditions will become more or less favorable for the array of random traits that a species’ gene pool exhibits. Thus, some lucky organisms will exhibit traits that increase their fitness compared to others within their population when these environmental shifts occur. These individuals with high fitness will better survive and/or reproduce, so their genes (including those that produce the advantageous trait) survive and are inherited by their offspring, allowing them survival/reproductive advantage as well. Thus, the advantageous trait lives on, while others without the advantageous trait either die out or shift into a new niche to survive in (and potentially evolve into a new species themselves).

The process of more “fit” organisms surviving over others is natural selection: environmental pressures push species to either adapt to the changes within their current situation, die, or move on to other niches. If there are no fluctuating stresses on organisms to survive, then there is no evolution, because no single trait is more beneficial to survival than any other.

~Genetic Variation/Diversity~

Genetic variation describes the tendency of genotypes (the genetic “blueprint” of an organism) to vary between individuals in a population. These variations are due to random genetic mutations in an individual’s DNA, and genetic “shuffling”.

Genetic mutations are actually far more common than most may think, as we usually associate mutations with visible, sometimes grotesque physical traits. Many mutations aren’t so blatant and unfortunate, instead merely lending to slight variations in our genetic code and physical/psychological state (if they even have a direct effect on us at all). Our genetic code is actually VERY good at minimizing errors due to the redundancy of codes in relation to resulting proteins (look into genetic degeneracy for more info).

The “shuffling” refers to processes like crossing over and independent assortment during meiosis. Without getting too deep into these processes, they’re essentially what recombines the genes provided by the parents into unique combinations for the offspring.

Genetic diversity is the total number of genetic characteristics in a species’/population’s overall genetic makeup. This diversity drives evolution, as it gives individuals a greater chance of possessing genotypes better suited to their environment/circumstances. If all individuals of a species are exactly the same in every aspect, then evolution won’t occur because no individual holds greater survival/reproductive advantage over another. This is why small gene pools can be so deadly to species, because a given individual will have little chance of possessing a lucky random survival trait when their environment inevitably shifts into a new state.

Genetic variation is often confused with diversity, though it’s understandable since the two terms are very similar. Think of it like this: variation is the “flexibility” of a given species/population’s DNA. IE—how common is it for the individual genotypes of a population to vary from each other within a given time frame? Diversity is the number of different characteristics the variation caused within a given population.

It may not be super important to know the difference between these terms for creature-creation purposes (tbh I prolly won’t remember the difference once I post this guide asdfg), but it can help when studying evolution.

~Fitness~

“Fitness”-- despite popular belief-- refers to an organism’s reproductive success as defined by their contribution to the next-generation gene pool. These genes are physically expressed in the organism via phenotype, which must curb the stresses of an individual organism’s external environment in order to successfully pass on to the next generation in via genotype.

An organism does NOT have to be physically fit to have high evolutionary fitness. Though fitness certainly CAN be influenced by more popularized ideas like physical strength or health—there are plenty of animals that intimidate others via size/pheromones/etc., which may lead to an outright battle for control of resources. One great example is the capercaillie—a large grouse that is so aggressive to any perceived threat during breeding season, they’ll even go after humans. Males that succeed in the most battles attract the most females.

However, physical strength or aggressiveness are NOT the only paths to success, as there are plenty of examples of small sizes or social cooperation benefiting a species! Vampire bats, for example, are known for sharing food among roostmates who failed to find food on their own. Surviving strictly on blood is a tough life, and just a couple days without food can spell death for a vampire bat. Thus, well-fed bats will often regurgitate part of their meal to feed those that weren’t so lucky that night. While there is contention over the exact factors that play into this reciprocation (such as kinship), there’s strong evidence that long-term association and past investments correlate with a bat’s willingness to share food.

Now an interesting caveat to this is that a trait that may benefit an individual’s evolutionary fitness can sometimes threaten their individual health and survival. As I will discuss in more detail later (see Part 2), fitness balances BOTH individual survival AND overall reproduction. So long as the individual lives long enough to pass on more of their genes compared to others in their community, their fitness is considered a success. This can sometimes mean an organism only lives a few years, but they produce many successful offspring to pass on their genes. Thus, successful fitness.

~Niche~

A “niche” is how an organism responds to the abiotic and biotic aspects of their environment and the resources available. It’s essentially how an organism fits into the life web of their environment/community, and how they make a space for themselves out of the resources available to them. Competition for resources can result in changes to the organism’s morphology (such as paws/claws better suited for scaling trees to reach fruits), physiology (such as developing a tolerance for the bitter taste of a certain abundant fruit), or behavior (such as only foraging for fruits during the dawn/dusk when less competition for fruit is out and about).

PART 2: Energy

~Give-and-Take~

Evolution is a delicate balance of give-and-take. Often, in order for an organism to have a highly-refined trait in one aspect of their life, a different trait of theirs must be reduced. This is due to energy management-- organisms only have so much energy to spare, and evolution must often must ‘decide’ what traits benefit most compared to other traits.

Thus, one of the most important things to remember when applying evolutionary theory is purpose. Every action, emotion, and additional part of the physical body takes up energy to create during development and/or sustain during an organism’s lifetime. If it doesn’t serve a purpose on the organism, then the energy used to sustain it will likely be redirected towards more important purposes over time. This is why useless structures on organism can be such a liability—if they don’t help out at all, they’re using up precious energy that could be put towards more vital processes.

Of course, evolution is a slow and complex process, so useless structures aren’t gonna disappear overnight. This may even give these ‘useless’ structures enough time to be retrofit for a different purpose, thus making them useful again. Vestigial structures, for example, are often small and useless because they’re usually evolving out of the body plan, but that doesn’t always mean they serve no purpose in the current body plan. The human tailbone is an important anchor for hip muscles, for example, despite the fact that we don’t have a use for anything tail-like in our structures anymore.

Another good example of an evolutionary trade-off could potentially be found in bird wings vs. bat wings. Though keep in mind that this particular assertion is more theorizing on the part of some of the mods here (including me), so take this with a grain of salt compared to the cited parts of this post.

As I’ve discussed in much more detail in the Flight section of this post, bats have highly agile flight due to the membranous structure of their wings, with fingers and tendons that can adjust the exact shape and elasticity of the wing to the smallest degree. These complicated structures require quite a bit of energy to develop, which may explain why bat hind limbs are so underdeveloped in comparison. Sure, bat legs can cling and spread out the wing membrane, but they’re essentially useless for walking or much dexterous action (for most bat species at least). Compare their legs to birds, on the other hand, and you get a completely different story. Bird legs can be very dexterous instruments in many cases, and allow birds a much wider range of movement on land (which of course varies by species, but even this level of diversity isn’t available to bats). Yet, bird wings are much less versatile compared to bats; since developmental energy is directed towards the hindlimbs, the wings can’t afford to take up much more energy. Fortunately, feather development after hatching doesn’t take up nearly the same amount of energy as the development of flesh and bone, BUT these wings don’t have the same level of malleability as fingers and membrane. Thus, the trade-off here is highly versatile flight vs. dexterous hind limbs + land mobility.

Gestation is, understandably, a very important part of this energy-partitioning process, as the type of gestation decides the amount of energy and space available for the animal to develop right off the bat. Placental mammals are able to give their young a constant supply of energy through their own consumption, and a more flexible/stretched space for their young to grow and for their bones to ossify. Egg-laying animals, on the other hand, have a restricted amount of energy and space to develop in, as decided by the energy resources and size of the egg they’re laid in. 

This restrictive space/energy is potentially another reason for birds’ feathered wings—since feathers can grow outside the liquid matrix of the egg (unlike bones), only the fleshy “arm” part of the wing needs to develop within the egg. Bats, being placental mammals, have much more room and energy to build up their complex, fully-flesh wings in the womb. Though this is, again, our theorizing on the subject.

Energy actually factors pretty heavily into to the type of early development an organism undergoes. For example, long-lived animals often have few children, while short-lived animals often have many over their lives.

It takes a LOT of energy to gestate/brood and then care for resulting offspring (often at direct risk to the carrying parent, no less). If an organism isn’t going to live long, it’s much more to their reproductive advantage to simply have many children that they throw out to the world on their own. More offspring are likely to survive than if the short-lived animal spent a lot of energy raising just a few offspring before dying. Long-lived animals, on the other hand, have the time to spend on raising a decent amount of offspring, so they can protect their young for a while and give them each a much higher chance of individual survival.

~Survival vs. Reproduction~

There are the two main forces that drive an organism’s evolution: individual survival and reproductive success.

Individual survival makes sense to us, because obviously an animal can’t pass on their genes if they don’t live long enough to breed. Yet, it’s equally important to remember that no matter how well an animal survives individually, their existence means nothing to evolution if they don’t eventually pass on their genes.

In fact, there are many examples of organisms whose short lives are basically a means to the end of mating, or whose individual lives are directly threatened by the prospect of mating. One rare mammalian example is the Antechinus—a mouse-like marsupial who lives for only a year, and mates only one time at the end of their life. Their short breeding season is so intense, that the males literally breed until their bodies fall apart. Obviously the males don’t individually benefit from breeding so hard as to die, but the strategy clearly works to pass on their genes and continue this cycle. Thus, successful fitness to those that breed "hard" enough.

Even if the reproductive strategy isn’t as drastic as this, individual survival is often at odds with reproduction, which can lead to some interesting compromises and loopholes. For example, vibrant feathers and boisterous displays may attract mates, but it will also certainly attract predators to the easily-spotted target. Most avian species’ eyesight can be classified as either violet-sensitive (VS) or ultraviolet-sensitive (UVS), so some birds will utilize a part of the light spectrum that their fellow avian predators can’t see. Thus, the birds in question are dull to at least some of their predators, but eye-catching to potential partners.

Anyways, it helps to break down these two aspects-- survival and reproduction-- when designing, and figure out what features of an organism may help them accomplish certain tasks:

Survival:

-Gas exchange- How does this animal breathe? Do they live on land, in water, or are they semi-aquatic? Do they have lungs, gills, or semi-permeable skin? If they fly, do they have adaptions for high-altitude flight and efficient gas exchange? How does the placement of their nostrils/gills effect the efficiency of their gas exchange in different environments? Can they hold their breathe for any amount of time?

-Hydration- Where/how does this animal get water? From their meals, large water sources, or maybe direct contact with water while swimming? How abundant is water in their environment, and what adaptions does the animal have for this?  Does this animal have morphological traits or behaviors to prevent desiccation?

-Consumption- What is the animal’s diet? How strict is that diet—are they obligate carnivores or opportunistic omnivores? Scavengers or fresh-foliage herbivores? What adaptations do they have to handle potential toxins/diseases in their meals? How do they locate/track and/or capture their meals? What jaw morphology to they have to properly shred/grind/swallow or otherwise ingest their food? How do they digest these meals, and what nutrients are vital to their physiological survival?

-Shelter/Safety- At what times of the day is the animal awake? What sensory adaptations do they have for changes in light and sound throughout the day? Why are they awake at these times—maybe predator avoidance, or an advantageous foraging time? Is this species typically fight or flight when faced with danger? How far do they have to be pushed to resort to either, and what warnings will they exhibit before that point? Can this species handle a wide gradient of weather/temperature, or can they only survive within a narrow gradient?

-General Homeostasis/Physiology- How does this animal regulate their temperature? What kind of immune system does this creature have, and how effective is it under different conditions? How does this animal grow/develop over time, and what role do external factors play in this?

Reproduction:

-Attracting mates- What behaviors does the animal participate in to find and attract mates? Do they have any physical structures, attention-grabbing behaviors, or both? What senses do they most rely on for this—bright plumage to attract sight? Loud/melodic calls to capture the auditory? Seductive scents?

-Reproductive organs- What kind of reproductive organs does this species have? Do they have multiple kinds exclusive to different sections of the population? Do they all have the same kinds of reproductive organs? Do their reproductive organs change over time, and how much energy does it take for that change to occur?

-Gestation- How does this species incubate their developing young; through an in-body placenta, hard-shell egg, soft-shell egg, or maybe in a marsupial fashion? How might this protect or otherwise effect developing young? What restrictions does this place on energy available to the developing young? How much stress does this incubation method put on the parents? How long do the young incubate, and how developed are they once they hatch/birth?

-Child rearing- Do the adults rear the young for any amount of time, or are the young on their own once they hatch/birth? How long are the young reared, and how does this affect their development? What secondary reproductive organs (such as mammary glands) might be used to help rear offspring? Communal rearing, nuclear family, or single parent? What are the average chances of the young surviving into adulthood?

PART 3: Speciation

~Species Concepts~

Typically, we’re taught that a species is defined as a group of organisms that is capable of breeding and producing viable/fertile offspring.

While this definition may seem intuitive, it can be shaky when applied to nature. We humans like to slot natural processes into neat little boxes of classification, as it helps us better define, organize, and communicate to others what we observe in the world. Though we sometimes forget that these definitions don’t actually confine and control these processes; our language is naturally limited when discussing something as fluid as a natural process. For example, the definition of “species” for a single-celled organism won’t count for a complex vertebrate, nor would the species definition for a sexually-reproducing organism count for an asexually-reproducing organism. Some species’ genetics/reproduction can’t even be observed anymore (long-extinct fossils, for example), so species distinctions must be based on pure morphology!

This is known as the “species problem” in biology, and it highlights the true complexity of life. Instead of just one concept for species, we have several for different conditions. According to this page, there are at least 26 currently being used, which I will copy-paste here (though you should check the link for more info on specific authors/papers and synonyms):

Agamospecies: Asexual lineages, uniparental organisms (parthenogens and apomicts), that cluster together in terms of their genome. May be secondarily uniparental from biparental ancestors.

Autapomorphic species: A geographically constrained group of individuals with some unique apomorphous characters, the unit of evolutionary significance; simply the smallest detected samples of self-perpetuating organisms that have unique sets of characters; the smallest aggregation of (sexual) populations or (asexual) lineages diagnosable by a unique combination of character traits.

Biospecies: Inclusive Mendelian population of sexually reproducing organisms, interbreeding natural population isolated from other such groups. Depends upon endogenous reproductive isolating mechanisms (RIMs).

Cladospecies: Set of organisms between speciation events or between speciation event and extinction, a segment of a phylogenetic lineage between nodes. Upon speciation the ancestral species is extinguished and two new species are named.

Cohesion species: Evolutionary lineages bounded by cohesion mechanisms that cause reproductive communities, particularly genetic exchange, and ecological interchangeability.

Compilospecies: A species pair where one species "plunders" the genetic resources of another via introgressive interbreeding.

Composite Species: All organisms belonging to an internodon and its descendents until any subsequent internodon. An internodon is defined as a set of organisms whose parent-child relations are not split (have the INT relation).

Ecospecies: A lineage (or closely related set of lineages) which occupies an adaptive zone minimally different from that of any other lineage in its range and which evolves separately from all lineages outside its range.

Evolutionary species: A lineage (an ancestral-descendent sequence of populations) evolving separately from others and with its own unitary evolutionary role and tendencies.

Evolutionary significant unit: A population (or group of populations) that (1) is substantially reproductively isolated from other conspecific population units, and (2) represents an important component in the evolutionary legacy of the species.

Genealogical concordance species: Population subdivisions concordantly identified by multiple independent genetic traits constitute the population units worthy of recognition as phylogenetic taxa

Genic species: A species formed by the fixation of all isolating genetic traits in the common genome of the entire population.

Genetic species: Group of organisms that may inherit characters from each other, common gene pool, reproductive community that forms a genetic unit

Genotypic cluster: Clusters of monotypic or polytypic biological entities, identified using morphology or genetics, forming groups that have few or no intermediates when in contact.

Hennigian species: A tokogenetic community that arises when a stem species is dissolved into two new species and ends when it goes extinct or speciates.

Internodal species: Organisms are conspecific in virtue of their common membership of a part of a genealogical network between two permanent splitting events or a splitting event and extinction

Least Inclusive Taxonomic Unit (LITUs): A taxonomic group that is diagnosable in terms of its autapomorphies, but has no fixed rank or binomial.

Morphospecies: Species are the smallest groups that are consistently and persistently distinct, and distinguishable by ordinary means. Contrary to the received view, this was never anything more than a diagnostic account of species.

Non-dimensional species: Species delimitation in a non-dimensional system (a system without the dimensions of space and time)

Nothospecies: Species formed from the hybridization of two distinct parental species, often by polyploidy.

Phylogenetic Taxon species: A species is the smallest diagnosable cluster of individual organisms within which there is a parental pattern of ancestry and descent; the least inclusive taxon recognized in a classification, into which organisms are grouped because of evidence of monophyly (usually, but not restricted to, the presence of synapomorphies), that is ranked as a species because it is the smallest 'important' lineage deemed worthy of formal recognition, where 'important' refers to the action of those processes that are dominant in producing and maintaining lineages in a particular case.

Phenospecies: A cluster of characters that statistically covary, a family resemblance concept in which possession of most characters is required for inclusion in a species, but not all. A class of organisms that share most of a set of characters.

Recognition species: A species is that most inclusive population of individual, biparental organisms which share a common fertilization system

Reproductive competition species: The most extensive units in the natural economy such that reproductive competition occurs among their parts.

Successional species: Arbitrary anagenetic stages in morphological forms, mainly in the paleontological record.

Taxonomic species: Specimens considered by a taxonomist to be members of a kind on the evidence or on the assumption they are as alike as their offspring of hereditary relatives within a few generations. Whatever a competent taxonomist chooses to call a species.

(Note that only one concept-- biospecies-- is the typical concept we’re taught applies to all species.)

And even then, these definitions can be contentious when you’re actually out in the field or working with a set of genetic data (believe me, I know). This post is also a very fun, informative dive into this problem, if you want to take a look.

Now I’ll just be using biospecies as the basic definition of “species” for this section, and evolutionary species for most of this post, but keep this natural flexibility in mind when defining the species in your world! If biospecies doesn’t fit some of your species-- or even your whole batch of species-- then test out other concepts and see how they fit! “Species” is really just a word, after all, not a law of nature.

~Speciation~

that in mind, Speciation is defined as the formation of distinct species by the process of evolution. By the biospecies concept, speciation is usually accomplished by some sort of reproductive isolation. This can develop and present itself in different ways, including:

Different mating times, locations, and/or rituals

A lack of compatibility between sexual organs

Production of offspring that are unviable (don’t live to adulthood) and/or sterile (cannot produce offspring)

There are several types of speciation that can produce this reproductive isolation:

Allopatric: A species is split apart by a physical barrier in their environment, such as fragmentation or a weather event that pushes sections of the population apart.

Peripatric: A version of allopatric speciation where the isolated population is very small.

Parapatric: There’s no physical barrier between different parts of the population, but individuals are more likely to mate with others within a certain range of their territory rather than far-off reaches of the population’s territory. This creates a gradient of genetic differences in the population across the territory, which may lead to speciation between the most physically distant individuals.

Sympatric: When a population gradually develops reproductive barriers without any geographic isolation/distance; likely caused by gradual random mutations, though it can be a bit difficult to observe in nature.

PART 4: Taxonomy/Classification

~Cladistic Taxonomy~

Taxonomy is the practice of naming, defining, and organizing organisms into groups based on shared characteristics. I casually use it to refer to cladistics specifically, but it’s technically a broader field encompassing all sorts of approaches to classification.

Cladistic taxonomy organizes life by tracing direct descendance/genetic history to given organisms’ last common ancestor. As these relations are mapped, certain groups (“clades”) will naturally ‘nest’ within other groups, thus building a ‘tree’ of lineages that connects all life to one another.

Also keep in mind that the nesting pattern of cladistic classification will automatically include any organisms under a given clade’s umbrella. Just because a creature evolves “beyond” a certain taxonomic stage, doesn’t mean that creature stops being a member of that group. It’s why birds ARE dinosaurs-- even if birds evolved “from” dinosaurs, they are still a part of that broad clade. Aves is simply the more specific clade nested within dinosaurs.

This is classic monophyletic grouping-- where a group consists of all descendants of a common ancestor, as defined by their synapomorphies (traits derived from a common ancestor, thus are unique to a particular clade).

Cladistic taxonomy is the usual type of classification you’re gonna come across in biology, and it forms the basis of our understanding of evolutionary history. Generally, an eclectic mix of morphological, behavioral, ecological, and genetic characteristics help string together the evolutionary relationships of organisms. Though more recently, genetic data has become the backbone of taxonomic research, often upheaving decades of theories based only on morphology/ecology/behavior. These other characteristics are still important in defining species, but they can sometimes be... misleading.

See, cladistics is based on the assumption of homology-- that similar characteristics are a result of those traits being passed on to different organisms from a common ancestor; the divergent evolution of related species from a common ancestor that passed on that trait.

This isn’t always the case for similar structures, however. Analogy assumes that similar characteristics are a result of the organisms in question facing similar environmental stressors that would require similar traits to survive and thrive; the convergent evolution of unrelated species towards a similar trait.

The avenue of analogy opens up many more approaches to classification (see this post). However, these different types of classification move a bit beyond evolutionary theory/history into different subjects like ecology, and I don’t want to side-track too much here. Homology is the only real way to track direct descendance and genetic history, so analogy isn’t especially important when considering strictly evolutionary classification. 

~Parsimony~

Now, since shared morphological traits aren’t ALWAYS an indicator of direct evolutionary relations, how exactly do we parse out what is and isn’t clade-defining?

Taxonomists generally work under the assumption of parsimony-- that the theoretical genetic tree that requires the fewest evolutionary changes is probably correct. This mindset is derived from the philosophical theory of Occam’s Razor-- that the simplest answer is probably the correct one, given all other factors are equal.

Thus, a phylogenetic tree that assumes more of a clade’s given traits were passed on from common ancestors is going to be a LOT more realistic than a tree that assumes a lot of traits evolved independently via convergent evolution. It takes a lot of energy to evolve whole new structures, so it just makes more sense that more of these traits would be passed on from an ancestor that had already freshly-evolved them. This isn’t ALWAYS the case (see Part 5), but it’s the safest assumption to make when drawing out evolutionary trees.

Though it’s important to have some understanding of anatomy and basic genetics when practicing parsimony-- this is where the caveat of, “given all other factors are equal,” comes into play. Traits like limb number, pelt color, or cartilaginous frills can’t be treated equally, as they don’t evolve in the same ways or at the same rates.

As I discussed more broadly in Part 2, developmental energy is a critical factor in evolution. Embryonic characters are the most stable, as these characteristics are vital to development (whether they require the liquid matrix of the womb, or are systems absolutely crucial to life once the newborn exits the womb), or are otherwise connected to a creature’s most structural/basal genetics. Thus, these embryonic traits display the most broadly-defining synapomorphies, and evolve veryyy gradually over time. 

For example, human embryos have “gill ridges” remnant of our fishy ancestors, but they’ve been retrofit for other purposes (namely jaw/ear development), so they eventually morph into their humanoid purposes as the embryo develops. Limb number is another good example, and is stable for vertebrate development as far back as our first land-faring fishy ancestors. (potential vertebrate hexapod evolution can be complicated, and I go into more detail about it here)

Compare those traits to more adaptive traits that crop up in mature organisms (like color, general body shape, etc.). These traits use up much less developmental energy (or none, if they end up changing/developing post-hatch/birth), and evolve far more quickly for survival purposes. These adaptive traits could easily evolve independently across a taxonomic tree, depending on the circumstances.

Either way, it’s important to sort out what traits are broadly-defining, developmental traits vs. quickly-evolving, adaptive traits. A tree that uses limb number as a derived trait but shows several independently-evolved color patterns is going to be FAR more realistic than a tree that uses different color patterns as derived traits, but shows limb numbers independently changing just a few times times across the tree. 

Though of course, this is all under the assumption of Earth genetics, which doesn’t necessarily have to be the case for your world (see Part 6).

PART 5: Some Misconceptions

~Change =/= Improvement~

I’m well aware that I’ve been using personified language here for ease of describing evolutionary processes, but I must make this clear: natural evolution is NOT consciously-driven. As long as genes viably and consistently pass on, any given trait could potentially live on.

There’s this idea in popular culture that “evolution” refers to “improvement”, but in reality, evolution simply means “change”. Environments are dynamic, shifting systems, and organisms change to survive these shifts. Sure, evolution technically “improves” species by molding behaviors or body plans to better fit an environment, but this is a temporary value judgement at best. The environment will eventually shift again, and a trait that was ideal for a species in the past may be the thing that drives their doom in the future.

There is no actual “goal” to evolution—no “ideal form” that evolution strives for. We’re all just trying to survive, and that’s exactly what drives our diversity—if we were all the same, we couldn’t survive vying for exactly the same resources and life conditions.

If sociality and empathy help a certain species survive, then that’s their approach. If a different species can live on just fine without sociality/empathy, then that’s their approach. Neither approach is “better” than the other. Trying to impress some sense of subjective “morality” or “hierarchy” on evolution is a fool’s errand, and honestly pretty insulting to the survival approaches of basically every other species.

~Impractical =/= Impossible~

Evolution is less a grid-marked blueprint, and more a patchwork piece of sticky notes and crinkled napkins. Every organism is as evolved as well as they can be in a given moment with the materials they have available to work with. Evolution can’t simply magic up the perfect materials necessary to build a wing, for example; a species’ current morphology must be retrofit to complete the task at hand.

Thus, no form is perfect, nor is any species’ approach to survival fool-proof. If evolution were consciously-driven, for example, we might not choke on water all the time because our throats would be more efficiently designed to prevent water from entering our trachea. But evolution worked with what it had, and our current throat shape is what we’ve got.

Additionally, life isn’t always a vicious struggle for survival-- Life situations vary, and not everyone has to carefully balance out their energy usage. Some organisms live a safe enough life that certain random mutations or vestigial structures stick around purely because there is no outside stressor that requires their energy be directed elsewhere. Thus, they can stand to sacrifice some of that energy for mutations that really don’t matter in the long-run.

As for behavior, as All Yesterdays puts it, “Animals do what they do, not necessarily because it is what they are good at, or even because their anatomy is suited to it, but simply because they can.” Behavior, unlike anatomy, is much more flexible and can vary heavily depending on an individual’s circumstances. Most animals are not constantly battling the elements or each other, and have opportunities to do bizarre things that may not practically help them in any way, but perhaps provides some other sort of satisfaction. This quote is preceded by a list of odd animal behaviors as example, “Elephants are excellent at swimming, crocodiles and alligators sometimes eat fruit and leaves, juvenile iguanas sometimes jump up at the moon at night, and goats in some areas often climb trees in order to browse.”

When you’re first starting out creature design, it’s safest to assume that because an animal has a body plan suited best for a given activity, they will stick more readily to that activity. However, keep in mind that anatomy and behavior do not always align, and that an impractical behavior or structure doesn’t always mean it’s an impossible behavior/structure. To be completely honest, I often have to remind myself of this, as I often fall into the “practical survival” trap of design, which ignores the flexibility of nature and evolution.

Just keep in mind what structures would be actively detrimental to keep around compared to others. A whole new set of limbs, for example, would take up a RIDICULOUS amount of energy to produce and sustain, even for an animal that has a fairly easy life. There are a lot of intricate muscle, bone, and nerve structures in those things! Compare that with a change in color, fur length, or cartilaginous frills—much less complex, and they don’t use up nearly as much energy.

PART 6: Beyond Darwin

Now, I’ve been focusing on exclusively Darwinian evolution here (which is admittedly the bulk of evolutionary theory), but there are a few other modes of evolution/inheritance that I want to briefly touch on.

~Epigenetics~

First, keep in mind that Darwinian evolution occurs through GENERATIONS, not individual lifespans. A giraffe’s long neck isn’t caused by their pre-giraffe parents stretching out their necks and passing on their freshly-stretched necks to offspring. It’s caused by a random mutation in neck length that happened to be useful in reaching higher leaves, helping those long-necked offspring survive better than their short-necked brethren.

However, that doesn’t mean that heritable changes within a lifespan never occur-- they’re just not necessarily as ‘Lamarckian’ as they first appear, nor are they necessarily antithesis to Darwinian evolution.

Epigenetics is the study of heritable changes in gene expression/activity, but not changes to the actual DNA sequence. This means that certain phenotypic traits can shift in an individual lifespan due to environmental pressures, and can pass on to offspring. The key here is that these changes occur in gene expression (which is controlled by the shape/structure of a DNA strand), but NOT the DNA sequence.

Some have referred to this phenomenon as a “genetic memory” since it’s like passing on helpful information to your kids just in case they face the same stressors you did. Arabidopsis plants treated with high salt or heat conditions, for example, have been found to produce offspring that are more tolerant of these conditions, compared to those offspring whose parents didn’t experience these conditions.

While plants provide some of the best examples of epigenetics, since they tend to have more flexible genomes that actively respond to their environments, evidence for epigenetic heredity has been found in animals as well. Chickens that undergo unpredictable food access will have offspring that exhibit more conservative feeding strategies, even without parental contact and under more favorable food conditions. Of course, this research is still rather novel, and it’s always good to be cautious about the varying conditions that could affect the outcome. Research into “inherited trauma” in humans, for example, is still in its infancy, and while it’s yielded interesting results, we’re far from reaching a conclusion about exactly what of trauma/stress could be inherited.

~Horizontal Gene Transfer~

Vertical gene transfer from parent to offspring is the main driver of Darwinian evolution, and is what we use to track direct inheritance and construct directional taxonomic trees. However, life is not always confined to such strict evolution.

Horizontal gene transfer (HGT) involves passing genes from one individual to another by means other than reproduction. This can create HIGHLY complex maps of inheritance, with no real traceable direction of lineage so much as a mass of tangled, interchangeable wires. Thankfully, this *mostly* happens among single-celled organisms like bacteria/archaea, so that’s a microbiologist’s problem to figure out lmfao.

Though it makes for a rather interesting tree of life

The beginnings of life were rife with HGT, with these early cells (and even earlier to what was likely a messy soup of free-floating RNA) sharing and recombining their genes with abandon. As cells increased in complexity, however, HGT became much more difficult, and THAT’S when vertical gene transfer (thus, Darwinian evolution) took over.

Now just because HGT mostly occurs in single-celled organisms doesn’t mean it NEVER occurs in more complex organisms. While these transfers are usually initiated by single-celled organisms, plants and fungi are notorious for not giving a shit about proper genetics and giving us poor botanists hell when trying to track family trees >:( . Not to mention several other multi-cellular examples, including animals. HGT doesn’t seem especially common in complex organisms compared to single-celled organisms, but it’s certainly not unheard of!

~Universal Biology~

So this is a pretty novel, pretty abstract area of research. I’m probably not gonna do it justice, so I’d recommend watching this video for a better breakdown, but I’ll still try to describe this topic for a layman audience.

*Broadly speaking*, most physical phenomenon have some sort of abstract theory to predict their existence. Essentially, we know 1) why the phenomenon can occur, and 2) how it can occur under specific circumstances.

We don’t have that for the theory of life.

All our current theories for life are tied intimately to our subjective experience of life on Earth-- our need for water, our carbon-based structures, etc. etc. But these aren’t really theories of life so much as theories of Earth life. We can’t apply these theories when, say, searching for alien life, because there’s no reason to believe that life outside our planet will utilize the same basal resources in the same exact ways our life has.

We need to divorce the materials from the theory, because the materials don’t provide the true message of life. As Nigel Goldenfeld asks in that linked vid, “what is the abstraction that the biology that we see is the representation of?” What we really need to know is how matter in general, “can self-organize hierarchically to create self-replicating, evolvable structures.”

Essentially, how do molecules come to life?

I wish I could tell you what IS the true theory of life-- the why and the how-- but that’s the ongoing question, right now. Goldenfeld believes that evolution is a key component of the universal theory of life, because biological systems are the only systems known to ‘reprogram’ themselves in response to outside stressors. Other physical systems don’t do that-- they’re bound by fixed equations of motion. Some sort of genetic code is obviously key to evolution-- and specifically, HGT leading to a vertically-evolving universal genome-- thus is also considered a universal component of biology. Beyond that we don’t have a whole lot to go on (besides homochirality, which I... honestly can’t rly wrap my head around, so I rly suggest watching that video for more information).

Stuart Bartlett and Michael L Wong have also recently come up with the concept of “lyfe”, where lyfe would more universally apply to organisms outside our conception of biology, while “life” is simply an Earth-centric subset of lyfe. This definition relies on four main criteria: “dissipation (the ability to harness and convert free energy sources); autocatalysis (the ability to grow or expand exponentially); homeostasis (the ability to limit change internally when things change externally); and learning (the ability to record, process and carry out actions based on information).”

Now I only bring this topic up because it really gets at the heart of specevo and creature design-- the absolute core of what we can create. Obviously I don’t expect most of you to go so deep as to reconstruct the basal molecular structures of your creatures-- hell, it’s not something I even plan on doing much, if at all.

But I hope this perhaps... frees your constraints a bit. There are many ways to make a world, and not all of them have to be Earth-centric. Anything from the genetic building blocks of organisms, how they process energy, and what abiotic stressors restrain their growth/development could be different. There’s no rule stating your world (or even any real-life world out in the universe) has to 1:1 match Earth, so your world may have any number of differing factors, such as different sources of direct energy than sunlight, different gravitational restraints, a different kind of life creation event, or even a different element used as the elemental building block of life (IE- not carbon). These would all lead to different approaches to evolution, morphology/physiology, and behavior.

-Mod Spiral

[kagaintheskywithdiamonds]

EVERY pokemon type matchup EXPLAINED

(or at least, some way to remember them all)

Water > Fire: water puts out fire

Ground > Fire: you can also pour sand on a fire to put it out.

Rock > Fire: sand is made of tiny rocks.

Water > Rock: rocks sink

Water > Ground: “ground” = “earth”, “earth” in this case meaning “the rock that makes up the earth” (which makes it nearly indistinguishable from rock-type but whatevs), and water erodes rock to carve up the land

Grass > Rock: if you plant a seed in a crack in a rock, its roots may have the power to break that rock into pieces when it grows bigger

Electric > Water: water conducts electricity

Bug > Grass: bugs eat plants

Flying > Grass: birds eat plants

Flying > Bug: birds eat bugs

Electric > Flying: lightning strikes in high places

Ice > Flying: birds fly south for the winter

Ice > Dragon: maybe dragons also fly south for the winter? scientists still aren’t sure

Ghost > Ghost: you know how Danny Phantom had to turn into a ghost in order to fight the evil ghosts? it’s like that

Dark > Ghost: messing with ghosts is some dark shit and only those proficient in dark magic can control them.

Bug > Psychic: spiders are a common phobia, so you could think of it like a psychological fear thing. also there’s the fact that gen 1 was crazy unbalanced and that bug-types were kind of useless and psychic-types were crazy OP and the usually-weak bug-types were SUPPOSED to be the Achilles heel of psychic-types but in practice it really didn’t work out.

Bug > Dark: the psychological fear thing applies here too. also there’s the fact that dark and steel types were added in gen 2 to fix the balance issues in gen 1 and bug-types needed another thing to be strong against.

Dark > Psychic: Dark Pokemon show me the Forbidden Power that can defeat the crazy OP psychic-types of gen 1.

Ghost > Psychic: ghost-types were also supposed to be the Achilles heel to psychic-types. but then the coders in gen 1 made psychic-types immune to ghost attacks, somehow. anywho they fixed that in gen 2 and onwards.

Fire > Grass: fire burns plants/wood

Fire > Ice: heat melts ice

Fire > Steel: greater amounts of heat will melt metal

Fire > Bug: did y’all ever go camping with your family and watch some kid in the neighboring campsite gather up a bunch of live bugs and then throw them into their campfire?? that’s what this makes me think of. but yeah if you throw a bug in a fire it will most likely die.

Rock > Bug: it would be more efficient to kill a bug by crushing it under a rock

Ice > Grass: plants die/trees hibernate during winter

Dragon > Dragon: dragon-types were also OP in gen 1 and they needed to nerf themselves (and this didn’t happen in gen 1 because the only damage-dealing dragon-type move was dragon rage which always deals 40 HP of damage sooooo)

Fighting > Normal: imagine a Machamp using a Snorlax or something as a punching bag. it makes more sense than trying to use any of the other types as a punching bag I suppose.

Rock > Flying: “kill two birds with one stone”

Fighting > Rock: imagine some guy karate chopping a brick in half.

Fighting > Steel: imagine that same guy karate chopping a steel bar in half. it doesn’t really work, since the steel bar just kinda bends instead of snapping in two. but he still managed to fuck that thing up so I guess it still makes sense.

Fighting > Ice: exercise and physical activity keeps you warm and that helps you tolerate the cold. …or you could imagine karate-guy chopping a brick of ice in half. that works too.

Fighting > Dark: I read somewhere that dark-type pokemon are actually called “evil” type in Japan, and that dark-type moves are often about “playing dirty.” meanwhile, fighting-type pokemon/moves are based more on martial arts, which is a more respectable and honorable form a fighting that often goes hand-in-hand with certain moral codes and philosophies. so basically, a good, clean, honorable fight trumps dirty cheaters.

Flying > Fighting: “have you ever tried to punch a bird”

Fairy > Fighting: I like to think of this as a defeat of toxic masculinity

Fairy > Dragon: it’s like a fairy tale where the hero slays the dragon in the end

Fairy > Dark: good overcomes all sorts of evil in fairy tales

Poison > Fairy: remember Ferngully? that movie about those fairies who lived in the rainforest and then their home was threatened by man-made pollution? it’s like that.

Poison > Grass: pollution also kills plants. both in the Ferngully rainforest and elsewhere.

Grass > Water: plants drink water.

Grass > Ground: plants also take in nutrients from the soil

Ice > Ground: “that thing where water gets into cracks in the ground and then freezes and that breaks the rock up”

Rock > Ice: after the ground is broken up by the ice, the ground becomes rocks. rocks are all that remain. rock wins.

Steel > Ice: ice can’t break up steel the same way it can break up rocks. steel does not fear ice.

Ground > Electric: lightning rods “ground” electricity so it isn’t dangerous

Ground > Poison: imagine a venomous snake trying to “kill” a clump of dirt. it won’t be a successful hunt for the snake.

Ground > Rock: ROCK IS JUST GROUND. GROUND IS ROCK. YA HEAR THAT, ROCK?! I OWN YOU

Ground > Steel: if you take a robot or your computer or phone or really anything electronic and then bury it underground without any protective casing, it probably won’t work anymore when you dig it back up.

Psychic > Fighting: “mind over matter”/“brain over brawn”

Psychic > Poison: if you’re psychic then you can see into the future and that means you might see a vision of you dying from eating food that was poisoned or you getting bitten by a snake in a certain location and then you will know to avoid those foods/locations (idfk, you got a better explanation?)

Steel > Rock: metal is the refined version of rock. metal is superior.

Steel > Fairy: can a fairy fight its way through a steel wall? no? I thought not.

Rock being resistant against Normal: if you’re not the karate guy from the earlier examples, then punching a rock isn’t going to do much for you.

Steel being resistant against Normal: again, if you’re not the karate guy, punching a slab of metal won’t go well for you.

Fire being resistant against Fairy: how is a fairy supposed to put out a fire. it’s too smol.

Dragon being resistant against Fire: FIRE CANNOT HURT A DRAGON

Dragon being resistant against Water: WATER ALSO CANNOT HURT A DRAGON, I GUESS. MAYBE BECAUSE SOME DRAGONS ALSO LIVE IN WATER?

Dragon being resistant against Electricity: dragons are the masters of all elements and I guess we just have to accept that at this point.

Dragon being resistant against Grass: foliage cannot hurt a dragon

Steel being resistant against Grass: if you cut down a forest, and lay a foot-thick blanket of steel on the ground where the forest used to be… those plants aren’t going to grow back very easily.

Water being resistant against Ice: water is one phase away from BEING ice. there’s not much ice can do to bother water.

Steel being resistant against Ice: I don’t RECOMMEND putting your smartphone in the freezer but it would probably survive the process

Poison being resistant against Fighting: punching a snake isn’t going to get rid of the venom that has already been injected inside your body

Bug being resistant against Fighting: I mean you CAN punch a bug but I wouldn’t recommend it because you’re probably going to hurt your fist from punching whatever surface the bug was sitting on.

Rock being resistant against Poison: a snake that bites a rock would also have little success. but apparently slightly more success than if it were to bite a clump of dirt. because it’s only a one-way resistance this time.

Ghost being resistant against Poison: you can’t poison something that’s already dead

Bug being resistant against Ground: I mean. bugs live in the ground. I guess they’re pretty familiar with the place. it doesn’t throw them off their routine too much.

Steel being resistant against Flying: when a bird flies directly into a skyscraper and dies, the skyscraper doesn’t take too much damage.

Steel being resistant against Psychic: you can’t play mind games with a computer

Water being resistant against Steel: water usually isn’t too annoyed by the objects that enter it.

Flying being immune to Ground: if you’re flying then you’re not touching the ground. the ground can’t bother you.

Steel being immune to Poison: you can’t poison a robot.

Ghost being immune to Normal and Fighting: so the idea here is that ghosts are intangible. you can’t physically touch a ghost, much less punch one. you’d have to blast it with fire or electricity or something instead. but making ghost-types immune to all physical moves would’ve been OP, especially in gens 1-3 when a move counted as physical or special entirely based on what type it was. and instead of ghost being immune to ALL physical types, they made it immune to the two that are most easily associated with physically attacking things.

Normal being immune to Ghost: listen… normal-types have like nothing else going for them. they might as well get to be immune to the type that is already immune against them. (fighting-types can still fuck up rocks pretty well so they didn’t need this kind of extra immunity)

[kenzieam]

Full Circle (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @jaamesbbarnes @lancefvcker @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes  @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee  @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw  @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @melgoodwin @clarabella960 @curvybihufflepuff  @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @sergeantwhitewolf @smilexcaptainx @plaidcat4815 @shirukitsune

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This is the sequel to It’s Time, with Lev reaching the end of her pregnancy; but will ghosts from the past threaten their newfound and hard-fought happiness???

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I can't hold back a quiet moan, biting my lip to silence it before it disturbs the person beside me; but it’s too late, and I wince as I feel them roll over, scoot closer.

His warmth is incredible, and a comfort; I lean back into him gratefully, feel his arms band strong around me, his face nuzzle into my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder. “Is your back sore?”

I nod as another wave of tightness hits and I flinch again. I feel strong fingers begin to work the knots in the small on my back and can’t stop the whimper as the pain gets worse immediately before it gets better.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky breathes in my ear, sounding remorseful and I know he isn’t just referring to the massage. Now it’s my turn.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I toss back lightly, feel him grin against my skin.  

I’m just over thirty-three weeks pregnant and I’m going to brain the next person who tells me I don’t look thirty-three weeks pregnant. And throttle the next bastard that acts surprised I’m carrying twins. I feel like I’m as big as a house, regardless of how many times Bucky tells me how beautiful I look. The reason I don’t look thirty-three weeks along is because both babies have taken up residence right along my spine, making it so my belly doesn’t protrude as much as you’d expect; but giving me a nearly continuous backache. And only Bucky’s powerful, calloused fingers seem able to help relieve it.  

Kind-hearted, devoted man that he is, Bucky has been apologizing nonstop for this, as if he is directly to blame for the twin’s positioning, when in reality he’s only responsible for planting them there.  

“It’s not your fault,” I reply quietly.  

“Still feel bad,” he mutters. His fingers are powerful and precise, working magic on the knots and almost bringing tears to my eyes. HIs lips caress the sensitive skin along my throat as he continues and he murmurs sweet words, nearly overwhelming my sensitive pregnancy hormones with his tenderness.  

“I can’t wait until they’re born,” I murmur, my tongue loosened by the gentle relief Bucky’s providing.

“So your back doesn’t hurt anymore?” His lips brush against my shoulder.

“No, not just that... I can’t wait to meet them. I wonder if they’ll be like Clint and I, night and day? Who will they look like? Will they be those twins that are on complete opposite schedules or will we be able to put them in the same bassinet to sleep because they won’t want to be separated?”

“That’s a lot to think about,” Bucky replied quietly.

“I know, and in reality, I’ll just be happy they’re healthy, but I wonder anyway. We’re bringing two little people into the world soon.”

“Can’t wait,” Bucky breathes, exhaling against my skin, his fingers faltering slightly in their motions. “I want to hold you all in my arms together.... my family.”

For such a massive man, Bucky is an unbelievable softie, and I roll carefully towards him, skim my hand along the stubble of his jaw; he leans into my touch like a big cat, eyes falling closed. I haven’t been the most gracious or patient lately, but Bucky hasn’t wavered, even stuffing his bare feet into his loafers and throwing a coat over his sleep pants to get another pint of pistachio ice cream to replenish my supply at 11:30 one-night last week.    

His capable massage has released my happy endorphins, and I’ve never been able to lay beside him for any length of time without wanting to all but climb inside him, so Bucky doesn’t look surprised when my hand drifts down his bare chest and begins to toy gently with the waistband of his boxers. His hips shift as I trace his Adonis Belt and he opens his eyes again to grin at me.  

“I gotta go,” he whines playfully.

“You’re the boss,” I retort. “You can show up when you want to.”

“Need to set a good example,” he mumbles, hand already reaching to trace along my breast.

“Then do so, and keep your pregnant wife satisfied.”

He chuckles, pulling me closer. One hand tugs at my underwear while the other cups my cheek and I melt against him as he captures my mouth, tongue teasing along my bottom lip. I all but yank at his boxers, pulse beginning to race.

He laughs softly against my mouth. “So eager.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” I hum back, palming his cock and relishing his answering hiss. I kick away my underwear and manage to pull Bucky’s the rest of the way off too and he rolls onto his back, strong hands gripping my hips. He guides me to straddle him, our eyes locking as he holds himself steady for me, and we moan in tandem as I sink down onto his length. His eyes narrow in pleasure and he drops his head back into the pillow with a ragged groan, his hands gently rocking my hips against him as he thrust languidly upwards.  

“Fuck....” he groans, eyes rolling closed. He bites his bottom lip. “Baby, you feel so good.”

“Mmmm,” my head drops bonelessly back and my fingers curl against his abs.  

Bucky’s hands drift upwards and span across my swollen belly, his touch reverent and worshipping. I look down to see him gazing at me like I’m a goddess, like I’m his whole world and a flush of warmth coils through me. It’s a heady thing, seeing that look in Bucky’s unbelievable blue eyes and I let all my love for him shine back, see the faint glimmer of tears in his soulful depths.  

“I love you,” he groans, arching upwards harder, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding; he’s starting to shudder in growing bliss and seeing the faint tremble in his muscles, feeling him so deep inside me is driving me closer and closer too and Bucky curls one massive hand at the back of my head, threading his fingers into my hair, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.

“Let go baby,” his voice is strained, shaking with building desire. “Let me see you.”

I surrender to the bliss, let the ecstasy wash over me and arch into his hand, crying out his name.  

“Oh fuck! Jesus-” Bucky gasps, jerking under me. His hips stutter one last time then he’s coming hard beneath me, his body a coiled spring of strength and power, holding me down as he throbs, pulsing his seed deep inside me. He growls a groan, long and low and rumbling deep in his chest, his orgasm an unceasing wave that fuels my own and its long moments before we shudder in tandem and I collapse forward onto his heaving chest. He presses breathless kisses to my exposed skin, clawing me closer.

I snuggle as close as I can, our skin sweat-slicked and sticky and breathe in Bucky’s familiar, intoxicating scent. I’ve been drowning myself in his comfort for most of my life, and it never fails to relax me, to draw me into a languid state of bliss.  

My mother and I never got along, and butted heads for the majority of my life until she died less than a year ago, and she was a practical, pragmatic woman, never believing anything she couldn’t touch and see for herself, but at this quiet moment, a memory drifts up from my mind’s depths.

It’s early morning, and I’m running late for school. I’m expecting Bucky to arrive any minute to drive me, but he snuck over last night and we got up to midnight shenanigans together in my bedroom before he crept home in the first light of dawn, so for all I know he’s still asleep. I tense when I see Mom sitting at the breakfast bar. Even first thing, she looks collected. Her hair is up in a casual but elegant twist and her hands gripping her steaming mug of tea are perfectly manicured. The same breakfast she’s eaten for twenty some-odd years, a half a grapefruit, sits untouched in front of her.

I reach for a protein bar, I’m running too late for any type of substantial breakfast, and Mom’s never been the roll up her sleeves domestic type, although she probably had toast ready for her favorite child, my twin brother Clint.  

“Was that James I saw leaving this morning?” She asks, her voice crisp and refined and I fight a tell-tale flinch.

SHIT.

“Mom, I-”

She holds up one flawless hand, looking like the world’s most elegant traffic cop. “How long has this been going on?”

Dammit, the only thing stronger than Mom’s sense of decorum and status is her bullshit detector.  

“A while.” I hedge, watching a tiny wrinkle form in her smooth forehead.

She says nothing for so long I shift my feet guiltily and bite back a rushed explanation. I will not apologize for my relationship with Bucky, he keeps me sane, he looks at me like I’m his world, and I’ve known since kindergarten that he was the one. But I’ve never told Mom this, both because we’ve never been close and because she doesn’t believe in soul-mates or destiny or anything else not concrete and provable.  

“You like him.” It’s a statement, not a question and I nod, holding my breath. Mom loves Bucky, and Steve and Sam, like sons, she’s always been a better mom to them than me or any of our female friends, and I have the crazy notion that she’s about to tell me to stay away from her child.  

“You are good together.” She states simply. “I used to tell this to your father when he questioned why you two always seemed joined at the hip.”

I stumble and have to lean against the counter to keep my balance.  

“Are you being safe?”

“Huh?” I’m so stunned by this turn of conversation I don’t even hear her question at first.

“Are you and James practicing safe sex? I am not deluded enough to think he was over all night helping you with your history paper.”

There’s a hint of that bite I always expect, and its familiarity helps me recover. “Yes, Mom. I’m uh... on the pill.”

“Condoms?”

I shake my head. The first time I felt Bucky raw inside me was too amazing and  neither one of us could bear going back to them, so I went to the family-planning clinic for a prescription instead.  

She frowns minutely. “Do either of you sleep with anyone else?”

“No! God, Mom!”

She nods, as used to my outbursts as I am to her scorn. “Alright, but if you decide to sample.... others, use more protection.”

I frown, sifting through the conversation in my head. “So.... you’re okay with this?” I’m tentative, thinking it’s far more likely that I just missed her order to cease and desist than her actually being okay with Bucky and I having sex.

She nods again, the movement crisp and takes a sip of her tea. "If there is such a thing in this world as soul-mates, then you and Bucky are a sterling example.”

“Wait, you believe in soul-mates?”

She looks square at me, raises a perfectly plucked brow. “I believe what I see.”

“Babe?” Bucky’s deep voice brings me back and he frowns at me, the look of confusion on his face adorable. “Where’d you go?”

“Just thinking,” I reply and snuggle closer. Bucky’s happy little purr of contentment is absolute heaven to my ears as he nuzzles me.

[gascon-en-exil]

So Who’s the Queen?: A Chess of Blades Review (Part 1)

A gay male dating sim with a recurring motif of chess references and not once are any of the guys likened to queens. How positively appalling.

That missed opportunity aside, this quick little indie visual novel caught my attention about a week ago and got me invested enough to generate two posts’ worth of discussion. Admittedly this is only the second visual novel I’ve actually played through - the first being the delightfully raunchy Coming Out on Top - but I’ve picked up a bit of other examples of the genre from fandom osmosis and watching playthroughs on YouTube so I’d like to think my reference pool is at least a little larger than that. Despite the apparent lack of a fanbase a few of my followers expressed interest in hearing what I have to say on the game, so here we are. Note that as this is one of the very rare occasions where I’m not presuming that I’m writing for an audience already familiar with my subject I’m going to do my best to avoid major plot and characterization spoilers in the event that anyone wants to check this game out on Steam. I will be talking a fair bit about the lategame sex scenes, but given the nature of Chess of Blades I don’t think anyone will be spoiled to learn that the main character gets up to an assortment of naked sweaty fun with his various love interests. This will be a review in two parts - this one covering my general thoughts on the game’s overall story, themes, and presentation, and the second one on the love interests and their individual routes.

Protagonist Rivian Varrison is a young nobleman of an unnamed kingdom modeled after a vague blend of early modern European nations. The son of a celebrated military strategist, Rivian is sent on his own to attend a week-long celebration for the king’s birthday at a remote royal castle despite his mildly antisocial tendencies and lack of familiarity with court life (and sex, because of course he’s a virgin). During his time at the castle he becomes embroiled in one of several plots by antagonistic forces that threaten to destabilize the kingdom’s foreign relations, and with the help of a collection of men who want to bone him Rivian has to avoid getting murdered, save the day, and also figure out what and who he’s going to be doing with his life once the party’s over. Oh, and there’s a quick handwave in dialogue near the beginning of the game establishing that homophobia is not a problem in this setting. Arbitrary sidestepping of serious real world obstacles, yay!

However, from my limited understanding of traditional yaoi homophobia is not often as much of a concern in the genre as might be expected, and this is one of several elements of CoB that give me the impression that, like yaoi/BL, the game is written with a female audience in mind. Rivian hits all of what I assume are defining traits of an uke intended to be identified with by a female player; he’s a waifish and inexperienced sub bottom with flowing hair and sensitive nipples, all of which come into play in some way for every sex scene. I don’t mind it though, because I just so happen to also be a waifish sub bottom who can find him quite relatable. Not the bits with hair pulling and nipple play perhaps, because I get next to nothing out of either, but I can use my imagination. Suffice it to say that CoB is clearly inspired by the conventions and dynamics of yaoi even if it isn’t always entirely beholden to them.

I wouldn’t even say it’s the sex or those particular dynamics that comprise the main draw of the game, because both the political and romantic storylines offer enough enjoyment on their own to encourage multiple playthroughs in order to see everything. It helps that the main conflict differs depending on the romantic route, and each comes with its own antagonist(s). Characters - love interests included - who act in a certain role in one route may serve an entirely different one in another, or they may not appear at all. At the heart of all the nefarious goings-on lies a shadowy organization presumably modeled after the politically divisive Jesuit order of the Catholic Church minus the religious motivations (the fact that the organization appears to be named after their founder St. Ignatius of Loyola is a dead giveaway), although there’s enough variety in the specific antagonists to allow for more than one reading of what’s really going on with all these murders and kidnappings and such. The distinct but interwoven nature of the four storylines manages to do a lot with a small cast and a compressed timeframe, and while I don’t think you’ll find anything truly groundbreaking in terms of narrative I feel like it would be rude of me to spoil the particulars.

Gameplay is...well...

...just that, really. It’s a series of fifteen or so questions with two choices each that determine which storyline and romantic route you’ll follow and then eventually whether you get the good or bad ending for that route. That’s a bit sparse even in comparison to other visual novels I’m familiar with, but it works well for what it is. The algorithm for determining the romantic route especially is less obvious than you might expect, as it’s impossible to favor one man exclusively at the expense of the others. Moreover, if you don’t favor one man to at least some degree Rivian gets murdered before the plot even gets properly started in a generic bad ending that’s almost comical in how unexpected it is.

Presentation is a bit of a mixed bag. The artwork is serviceable and even quite good at points. but there’s a fair amount of stylistic variation and the NSFW art in particular doesn’t impress me very much. The soundtrack is excellent for an indie game, with fourteen original pieces that all do a great job of matching the tone and atmosphere of the scenes. I have no complaints about the writing apart from the odd typo or awkward phrasing choice, although there are a few quirks I couldn’t help but pick up on. For instance - Rivian, all of the love interests, and several of the side characters get compared to animals at multiple points. In exactly one scenario there’s the implication that this might lead into some offscreen pet play, but aside from that it’s just a rhetorical device. Maybe Rivian is secretly a furry? The chess motif is also less prevalent than I was expecting; it’s actually more prominent in the names and icons of the game’s Steam achievements, rather than in the game itself.

Then there’s the matter of the voice acting. While I appreciate the ambition of an erotic visual novel with multiple routes having full voice acting, the execution often leaves something to be desired for a number of reasons. The most common is that the VAs affect noticeable accents for many of the characters, usually to make them sound posh and refined, and either because of inexperience or because of just how strong the accents can get some of their line reads can come across as stilted or unnaturally paced. Rivian is unfortunately one of the more notable offenders. He’s the character with whom the player is meant to identify, and yet his voice is so obviously affected that it took me some time to stop thinking of him as a parody of a nobleman designed purely as comic relief. I found his voice less distracting in major emotional scenes thankfully, although on that note I also have to point out that the sex scenes are fully voiced as well. This doesn’t help anyone on the whole, not least because of how difficult it can be to authentically vocalize getting your dick sucked or taking a cock in your tight virginal hole. Also...there are sound effects for some of the kissing and blowjob scenes, and I really wish there weren’t. In all seriousness, if you’re audibly slurping that much while doing either of those things you’re either being intentionally sloppy because your partner’s into that or you’re extremely slow on the uptake about what to do with a penis or someone else’s tongue in your mouth. I suppose I should be thankful that we’re spared tonguing sounds during the rimjob scenes or the slapping of balls on ass. It’s worth noting that the option to mute some or all of the voice acting exists, but I stuck it out because there were some performances I genuinely liked and because I was determined to get the full experience - for better or worse. 

Whether what I described above justifies the rather steep price tag for an indie visual novel (because of the voice acting, possibly?) is a personal call, but for what it’s worth I enjoyed my time with the game in spite of those shortcomings and do recommend it for fans of period M/M romance, particularly the kind you’re likely to find in Japanese properties like the ones from which CoB clearly draws inspiration. I feel like I’m getting ahead of myself, though, as this post is going to have a second part. Next time I’ll be critiquing each of the four love interests both in and out of bed, which will undoubtedly make for a fun and extremely filthy bit of writing.

[soulsuccessunleashed]

Get The Best Out of Your Tarot Practice Using Oracle Cards

You may have seen an oracle card or two if you've ever had a tarot reading, maybe when scrolling down on social media or in a Youtube video ad.

The younger, more laid-back cousin of tarot cards is the oracle deck. They can display any type of image, giving the individual interacting with them more freedom to determine what it means.

Oracle Cards: What Are They?

They are a tool that can be utilized for divination or introspection, depending on your method.

Oracle decks, however, can have any number of cards, unlike conventional tarot decks, which come in packs of 78 cards. Furthermore, oracle decks don't follow the format of tarot cards, which have a Major Arcana and a Minor Arcana separated into suits. There are no restrictions, and the options are limitless.

Differences Between Tarot and Oracle Cards

Any tarot deck you pick up will have the Major Arcana covering what it is called "The Fool's Journey," or major archetypes or lessons we encounter in life, and the Minor Arcana, which covers the more widely known experiences, even though there are various schools of tarot and variations from deck to deck.

Oracle decks don't usually stick to that setup, though. You might come upon a deck of around 30 or 80 cards. One oracle deck may somewhat resemble the tarot while another may have nothing at all to do with it. However, the number of cards and how they are distributed between majors and minors make the biggest differences overall.

Two of the oracle decks that experts suggest show the variety. A 44-card deck called the Adinkra Ancestral Guidance Cards contains Adinkra symbols and concepts (used by the Ashantis in West Africa). On the other hand, the OKANA oracle deck has 25 cards, with five of each element (Earth, Water, Wind, Fire, and Spirit). Proverbs from the Diloggun Divination method are also included.

How To Use Oracle Cards

Follow your instincts. Each time you obtain a new oracle deck, it's like learning a new language. So spend some time just watching and becoming familiar with the deck.

An excellent method to get to know your deck while also refining your intuition and divination skills" is to perform a one-card pull each day. Oracle cards can be used with conventional tarot spreads, such as a three-card draw. To set an intention or to confirm the interpretation after reading, you can also pull an oracle card.

Let Spirit speak to you as you examine the cards in whichever methods you require at the time keep a journal, whether it be on paper or digitally, and compare it to the deck's instruction manual. Oracle cards can occasionally be a more appealing choice for newbies because of how unstructured they are. But skilled tarot readers also frequently include them in spreads.

Sometimes a person desires to go beyond the "boundaries of the tarot" (or at least how they perceive them to be). Additionally, some people consider oracle cards to be less threatening than tarot, while others view oracle as a starting point for card divination. To offer more context to their readings, many people blend tarot and oracle. The options are limitless, particularly if you try to become mathematical and consider permutations and combinations.

[mermaidmafia-official]

{Chapter One - Rin}

- Six of Swords -

I had been granted an extra three months to prepare for a new life beyond the pines when the mountain prince rode off and laid siege to Almas. The news had been something of a blessing and, at the time, I took comfort in the knowledge that sieges could go on for ages. Lord Dara was not as certain.

Not a moment could be spared – from first light until the stars hung high, I was at his side as he conducted lessons of elocution and refinement to mold me into the lady I so closely resembled. The servants – those I once called family, for lack of a better word – were forbidden to address or to treat me in any way other than as a lady of the house. Lord Dara was a kindly man, but on this particular issue he was firm and frighteningly unforgiving – none among us had ever seen the likes of it from him before.

He had gone to terrible lengths to seek out a lady’s maid to attend me as the only member of the household to continue on to Elynas – an innocent unknowing of what had transpired. Noemi came from some far off province beyond the reach of the mountain king, somewhere the name of Prince Vala’s intended was of fairly little interest. It should have seemed odd to her to have been employed over such a distance, but she did not appear to question it, only mentioning in passing to me how odd the other servants acted around her and how they barely spoke to her, despite the fact that she spoke our language very fluently.

“Do not worry on this issue – it would be futile to know them now,” I told her in that bored, blasé tone Emerence used to use on me when she thought I was being unnecessarily worrisome. “You and I shall be leaving here soon enough.”

“Right you are, milady.”

Weeks passed since, but my mind kept tracing back to the conversation – what if someone had said something by now?

“Chin – up.”

My head jerked upward at the command that issues in doubletime from both Lord Dara and my dancing instructor. I could feel heat rising in my cheeks as I stared over the instructor’s shoulder as emotionlessly as possible; I had been doing better lately at maintaining good posture and composure, it was now embarrassing to have let that slip. But one crack in the façade …

I suppose that’s what I get for sneaking out of Emerence’s my rooms well after Noemi assumed I’d gone to sleep. Fatigue was pulling at my eyes, but it was well worth it to creep down through the servants’ stairs and into the little room my mother occupied. Since agreeing to this whole … masquerade, Lord Dara had been good on his word (not that I would have expected any less from him) and brought in a doctor to look in after my mother. She could now sit up in bed and hold an actual conversation, something she had not been capable of for nearly a year on. Though I had gasped in distress at her bandaged hand during my visit last night, she proudly but dismissively told me, “I was peeling potatoes. My hands are a little seized up, and the knife slipped – that’s all. Mrs. Butty set me right.”

I could only laugh at that, relieved that she was now able to get up out of bed and even resume some of her former duties in the kitchen. It made it that much harder to think I would have to leave her only when she was becoming herself again.

My concentration slid away as I glided across the floor – rather partially stumbled – with the instructor, who once raved about Emerence’s lightness of step, now tutted and sighed over my fumbling steps. Ignoring a knock from without and Lord Dara’s summons, we continued our dance and I wondered if any of this was completely necessary – would Prince Vala even care if dancing was in his intended’s repertoire? No, said the little voice at the back of my head, but the rest of the court will. Lord Dara’s head was bent in conversation with the butler, Silas, as they whispered, tones drowned out by the weedling of a violin, played somewhat poorly by the kitchen boy. Silas bowed and scuttled out of the room as quickly as he had come in, leaving his lordship staring at a piece of parchment, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at it.

“Stop.”

He didn’t have to repeat himself – the boy immediately halted his playing and I spun out of the instructor’s reach, all of three of us watching him, the same question poised on our tongues but not a one daring to be the first to inquire. My heart began to beat faster as Lord Dara looked up from the parchment to my face.

“The siege of Almas has ended. Prince Vala returns victor to Elynas.”

Everything felt as though it was crashing around me as the room sprung into action while I stood frozen in place, eyes locked with Lord Dara. A trial by fire was about to begin.

Stepping back into my rooms, a strong yet familiar scent crept out to meet me as Noemi buzzed around packing.

“What is that smell?” I asked out loud, peering around the room for the source. It was heady and bearing of sweet spice. Noemi froze, her face colouring instantly, hands clutched around something small.

“I’m sorry, milady! I had hoped you wouldn’t notice! The staff below, they – they asked me to put these in with your things to ward off the mountain spirits!”

“Only the bad ones,” I said under my breath.

Nervously, she opened her fingers to reveal a small bulbous sachet, tied deftly with kitchen string. “I’ve never heard of such things, but they were insistent about this matter,” she told me apologetically. “Miss Cressida especially, she made me promise to put this one in with your dresses.” I stiffened upon hearing my mother’s name, but held out my hand for Noemi to pass the sachet to me. Of course it was mama, it smelled of her handiwork from before. I accepted it gingerly and brought it up to my nose – warm spices and rare citrus.

“It’s Frostfang Bane.” Tears threatened to spill over as I began to remember, my heart clenching. Noemi looked at me questioningly. “Frostfang is a child’s bugaboo,” I tried to explain, but she looked even more confused. “To scare children into behaving. I was petrified of Frostfang when I was younger,” I recollected. “If you stayed outside too late and lost your way in the woods, Frostfang would take you away to his cave, leave you there until you froze to death – which would be a long time because no one wanted to look for naughty children” (I said, echoing Mrs. Butty’s version of the tale), “and devour your bones.” Emerence used to torture me something fierce with this story, knowing how afraid I was. At least until I started referring to the mountain prince as ‘Prince Frostfang’.

“That sounds terrible!” Noemi exclaimed. “We have nothing like this in my country.”

“Perhaps you were a good child to begin with and didn’t need a scare?” I replied, grinning, as I passed back the sachet. Noemi laughed lightly and tucked the sachet back into the trunk she was packing. “They meant well – please tell them that this is an incredibly touching and thoughtful gift.” I meant every word of it; I had thought that everyone down below had turned from me when my station changed, but they would not have made these if that had been the case.

Old beliefs about the mountains ran deep with all of the servants, having lived and worked so close to the mountains all their lives. To me, these protection charms meant more than all the gold in the world because of the love they had been made with. This kind of love would safeguard me up the mountain as I drew nearer to an uncertain, and potentially dangerous, future.

Or so I hoped.

[randomactuallywrites-57]

Candid Complex (Chapter Seven)

Title: Candid Complex Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G+ Pairing/s: sormik Summary: The next morning, Sorey awakens before Mikleo.

AO3 Link

The next morning, Sorey awakens before Mikleo.

It’s not the sunlight filtering through the bright red tent roof. Nor is it the light breeze rattling the paper walls or the beeping of an alarm which wakes him up.

He simply awakens.

The first thing he notices about being awake is that, though he lies on his back now, Mikleo is still curled against his chest, hands around his waist, his face calm, with no thoughts creating lines of worry. His deep breaths cover Sorey’s collarbone in warmth. Sorey breathes along with him.

Mikleo is here, so close to him, and that amazes Sorey. The fact that he chose to sacrifice what little personal space is available to them in this tent just to be with Sorey. The fact that, last night, he let Sorey kiss him so readily.

It’s both amazing and heart-wrenching.

Because here’s the thing: Mikleo doesn’t share his feelings. He said so himself, though those were words not meant to be overheard. This relationship, close as it is becoming, is still fake to him. And for that reason, all Sorey feels in the aftermath of last night’s pleasure is a lump of guilt, threatening to swallow him whole. Sorey is the one who pressed closer, who initiated the kiss.

He should have at least asked, first. Made sure that Mikleo wouldn’t mind.

In his excitement and awe and love-clouded mindset, he hadn’t even stopped to think.

How careless of him.

Despite himself, Sorey can’t help but have a shred of hope lingering within him. Mikleo kissed back, after all. He’s strong - he could easily have pushed Sorey away, yelled at him, ended it there and then. But he kissed back. He leaned into Sorey’s hold when he offered it.

All this thinking is making his head ache.

Now that he is awake, Sorey knows he won’t fall asleep again. Instead of even trying, he lifts a hand from where it rests around Mikleo, gingerly feeling for his phone on the blanket beside him.

He feels a groan against his chest.

Pausing in his movements, he feels a rush of fondness. So Mikleo isn’t a morning person, after all. “Sorry if I woke you.”

Mikleo groans again, nuzzling closer to Sorey’s chest - or at least attempting to. He’s not sure he could get any closer, even if they weren’t wearing clothes.

(That’s really not something he should be thinking about with Mikleo lying on top of him.)

Sorey manages to tilt his head enough to see the time on his phone, then turns to Mikleo once more. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

There’s a sound, muffled enough that he can’t tell if it’s words or simply noise.

“It’s eight AM,” Sorey says.

“Too early,” Mikleo mutters, turning his head so his words are coherent.

Sorey lets out a soft laugh, letting the hand still around Mikleo come up to rest on his hair. He combs through it with his fingers, enjoying its soft texture against his skin. “We need to get back to Ladylake, though.”

Mikleo practically melts against Sorey. “Five more minutes.”

“Okay, but only five minutes.”

He’s back asleep in less than a minute.

(Sorey gives him twenty.)

By the time they get out of bed and pack their equipment, it’s already ten in the morning. Still, neither of them particularly mind this unplanned late start. It’s not like the trains from Kylfe to Ladylake aren’t frequent, even on Sundays. Hiking to Kylfe only takes a few hours, too, so they should still be back before dinner.

Or at least, so Sorey hopes.

(If Sorey could tell his younger self anything, after the week he’s just had, he thinks he knows what he’d say.)

Perhaps it’s Sorey’s low mood catching on, or Mikleo is simply tired, but neither of them speak much during the hike back to Kylfe. The scenery surrounding them is breathtaking, with the sun illuminating countless glistening rivers and vast fields of flowers, vibrant between sheets of green. In the distance, a great waterfall continues its powerful surge, relentless without fail.

Such scenes are enough to make one speechless, but Sorey can already tell that’s not what has got their tongues tied.

In any case, through the quiet they manage to hike back to Kylfe without problems. Once they get there, of course, they notice that the next train isn’t until later in the afternoon, around an hour from now. To pass the time, they decide to peruse the shops on the main street.

Most of the shops are typical small-town establishments - corner shops and newsagents’ and charity shops, none of which particularly catch either of their eyes. However, halfway down the street they find themselves outside a charming establishment with a mahogany window display, filled with displays of paperback.

A bookshop.

The inside is as charming as its exterior. Every display is neat, stacked on spindly wooden tables, nestled between towering shelves of tomes. Most of the books are fiction, of course, but even so, the older hardback editions of classics make them both pause, taken in by their elegance. They breathe the scent of stories.

In the far corner of the little bookshop is a section of what they find to be history books. Even these editions are similar to the fiction books, beautiful leather-bound volumes with gilded lettering. Even if it wasn’t their subject of choice, they would have a hard time looking away.

Naturally, they spend a long time looking through the stock.

At one point, Sorey looks over to find Mikleo holding a single book, his fingers touching the cover with the greatest of care. The light in his eyes is like nothing Sorey has ever seen, yet it feels so familiar to him regardless.

A moment passes, and Mikleo shelves the book.

But his eyes continue to find it, even as they move to another section of the store.

He shouldn’t be making it harder for himself. But he can’t help himself. All he wants is to see Mikleo smile again.

When Mikleo isn’t looking, Sorey buys the book.

Once they exit the bookstore, they quickly buy takeout drinks from a cafe nearby before heading back to the train station. The warm cup gives Sorey something to occupy his hands with, something to stop them wringing at his sides, powered by the anxious thoughts clouding his mind.

The train station isn’t busy, the only patrons being themselves and an older couple with their child. They take seats on one of the benches, cradling their drinks in silence.

(If he could, he’d tell himself this: it turns out dating is harder than you might think. Books never talk about the heartbreak, only the happy times. That’s probably because hearing about the pain puts you off loving at all.)

Beside him, Mikleo takes a long sip of his tea, every movement practised with a grace and refinement most could not pull off. For Mikleo, though, it suits him to a tee, no pun intended. Despite his young age, his eyes shine with the light of one much older, much wiser.

Maybe that’s why the sight calms Sorey. Even if this hurts him, if that light continues to shine in Mikleo’s eyes, then this will all be worth it.

(What they don’t tell you is that pain is easier to withstand when it’s for the benefit of someone you love.)

Maybe it’s because of the inevitability of this ending that he doesn’t bother to conceal his staring. He only has so long to appreciate this, after all. Mikleo keeps his head held high, his neck exposed to the late spring chill. His teeth tug at his lip, and subconsciously, Sorey finds himself biting his own lip, trying not to remember the feeling of last night.

Feeling Sorey’s eyes on him, Mikleo’s eyes latch onto him, and he quirks an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Oh, er-” Sorey clams up, taken off guard, until he remembers- “I have something to give you!”

“What?” Mikleo turns to face him, perplexed.

Rather than explaining, Sorey pulls the carrier bag containing the book out of his backpack and hands it to Mikleo.

Mikleo pulls the book out of the bag, his lips falling open at the realisation of what it is. The light from before returns to his eyes, making them glimmer in the afternoon sun, vibrant amethyst against the blue sky. His fingers trace the cover, caressing the leather with the gentlest touch.

Never has Sorey wanted to be a book more in his life.

“Sorey…” Mikleo looks up, eyebrows drawing together. “You didn’t have to…”

“Don’t worry about it!” Sorey says, grinning. “I just noticed you looking at it, and I wanted to treat you to something, since you payed for our drinks.”

“A book is much more expensive than a drink, though.”

“I said it’s fine. Am I not allowed to treat you every once in a while?”

Mikleo looks down at the book. “You treat me all the time,” he mumbles. In a clearer voice, he says, “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

Before Sorey can say anything, Mikleo leans over and presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek. He’s gone a moment later, face turned to the book once more. Sorey raises a hand to his cheek, feeling warmth pooling there.

Mikleo wouldn’t just do that on a whim, right? Surely that has to be a good sign - though it doesn’t quite add up. Mikleo said himself that he doesn’t feel the same way as him…

A few metres from them, a mother scolds her child loudly for running too close to the platform.

Oh, of course. They’re in public. Kissing his cheek is normal, if they’re supposed to be boyfriends. This is an act, after all.

He doesn’t notice the red hue crossing Mikleo’s cheeks as he buries his head in his new book.

Just over an hour later, they find themselves back in Ladylake, in front of the aqueduct. In the afternoon sun, the lake glistens a pure blue. The slight breeze is refreshing, and Sorey feels his heart rate beat at a steady pace.

It’s somewhat odd, how calm he is, compared to earlier. Then again, he is with Mikleo. For whatever reason, even just having him nearby is more calming than one might expect. Especially considering his feelings for him.

(That only makes this all the more difficult. But this is the kind of thing only fools in love do.)

“What gorgeous weather,” Sorey says, finally breaking the silence between them.

Mikleo hums in agreement, though his eyes are not trained on the view before them. Rather, he’s looking at Sorey, analysing him. Still, he does not speak, merely waiting for Sorey to continue.

(Note to younger self: don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s better if you experience this pain.)

“I’ve really enjoyed this week,” Sorey says, keeping his eyes trained on the lake. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It’s a surprise that people even believed us.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly the best liar in the world, and your acting could be better,” Mikleo says in a teasing tone.

“Come on, I thought I was pretty convincing,” Sorey says, glancing over to Mikleo with a smile. “I’m being serious, though. Every day this week has been a blessing.”

Mikleo doesn’t say a word, though a thousand thoughts pass through his eyes.

Sorey turns to face him, head-on.

“I’m really grateful you went along with this,” he says, reaching to take Mikleo’s hand. “So thank you.”

He holds Mikleo’s hand lightly, though Mikleo doesn’t pull away. Encouraged by this, Sorey allows himself one last indulgence.

Gently, giving Mikleo time to pull away if he wants, he lifts Mikleo’s hand and presses a chaste kiss on smooth skin, letting it linger for only a moment before he steps back, letting the distance between them grow.

(Even the pain is worth it, to have this experience.)

“I don’t want to have to lie anymore.”

Mikleo freezes under his touch, shoulders tensing up. His eyes are wide, eyebrows drawn together in question. He almost looks shocked. Maybe he’s just realising how deep Sorey’s emotions run, and how his own can’t match them.

The last remaining shred of hope in Sorey’s heart shatters.

“I hope we can still be friends, at least,” Sorey says, trying to keep his voice steady and smile through the pain.

(It doesn’t work.)

With a final squeeze of Mikleo’s hand, he moves away, whispering an apology to the wind before turning, walking away. Leaving Mikleo behind. Leaving behind everything they’ve been through this week, free of both regrets and hopes.

When he gets back to the apartment complex, the door of the flat next door to his own swings open as he passes.

“Sorey! You’re back early,” Rose says cheerfully.

He gives her a small smile, hoping his pain isn’t too obvious. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Rose’s expression turns to surprise and concern, her eyebrows drawing inward as he makes his way towards his own door. She grabs his wrist to stop him at the last second, holding her own door open with her foot.

“What happened?” Rose says.

For a moment, he thinks about telling her. Part of him wants to let out this pain, to share his sadness. But he won’t let others worry about him.

“It’s nothing,” he lies. “Nothing happened.”

Rose doesn’t look at all convinced, but he doesn’t give her time to push any further. He pulls away from her grasp, opening his flat door and closing it on the sound of her calling his name.

“Don’t you lock me out, I can tell you’re not telling the truth! Sorey, come on!” She knocks on his door, still yelling through it. “Did something happen with Mikleo?”

Sorey sighs and moves away from the door, ignoring her. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be able to tell her, but tonight all he can bring himself to do is whisper another apology as he leaves Rose hanging on the other side of the door.

He dumps his bags on the sofa in the living room and heads to the bedroom, flopping down on the mattress. The cool sheets engulf him, and he lets out a long breath.

It’s over, now.