#colour measurement difficulties

[hyckvr]

can u do something with riize and maybe how they praise you and noticing your reaction? :3 ty pooks love ur writing

riize praising you

pairing. ot7!riize x reader // genre. fluff, established relationship // warnings. mentions of a rough day, mentions of swearing, mentions of food?? // a/n. ngl this is kind of not what u asked for so im sorry 😭

shotaro :

shotaro had a challenging day at practice. he had difficulty mastering specific parts of their new dance routine, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't understand why. the lack of understanding upset him the most. so being back in your arms after a tough day instantly made him feel better, your presence provided him with a sense of security and solace that he cherished deeply. In addition to your emotional support, you also took the time to prepare his favourite meal, attentively listening to his concerns and offering thoughtful advice when needed, before dragging him to bed so you guys could cuddle. as he rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arms around you, he felt instantly calm in the rhythmic sound of your soothing heartbeat. "i feel safe with you," he said breaking the comfortable silence that surrounded you two. he instantly felt your heartbeat increase and chuckled.

eunseok :

eunseok knew you were stressed about graduating. It had been a rough few years for you at uni, but with eunseok by your side, you knew you’d be fine. walking up on stage to receive your degree certificate had you feeling all sorts of emotions. you were glad it's finally over, but also sad about leaving with nothing but memories of the experience. you turned and saw eunseok in the crowd, clapping and smiling at you. you couldn’t wait to hug him after this was over. finally walking up to your boyfriend, you immediately hugged him. he returned your hug by tightly wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered, so only you could hear. your heart fluttered, and your cheeks turned pink at the sudden praise. eunseok noticed your lack of reply, so he gently pulled your head away from his chest to hold your face in his hands. once he met your eyes, he saw your pink cheeks and chuckled. “you don’t need to be shy around me. come on, let’s get your picture taken.”

sungchan :

nothing could beat your baking, that's what sungchan always says. you think he's being dramatic, but he can't stop praising you and telling everyone he knows. despite this, you always make him whatever he asks for. So when he asked you to bake a cake, you immediately got to work. you flawlessly measured the ingredients and decorated the cake to impress him yet again (although you know you'll always impress him). once everything was finished, you called your boyfriend to try some of the cake. sungchan took a large piece and immediately praised you, "god, I love you." you chuckled and shook your head at his reaction, saying, "It's just a cake." he shook his head and replied, "It's not just a cake, it's yours. I love your baking."

wonbin :

wonbin loved going out on random adventures with you. It always put a smile on his face. seeing you so excited about taking him somewhere you loved or somewhere new made his heart flutter. he was madly in love with you. walking hand in hand at your desired destination, feeling you squeeze his hand to let him know you still acknowledge his presence while looking at all the animals at the aquarium. he could only grin. he loved seeing you so happy but would never really admit it out loud, only on certain occasions - and today was one of those days. "I love spending time with you," you heard him say while looking at your face. the rose colour instantly appearing on your cheeks caused him to smile before quickly taking a picture of you, "stop!" you chuckle out shyly before dragging him to the next exhibit.

sohee :

you and sohee had randomly decided to take a trip to Paris. he had been there before and when you saw all the pictures he took, you instantly wanted to go with him. you always loved paris, especially because it is known as the city of love, so there was no better place to go with your boyfriend. you practically loved dragging him around to go sightseeing. he always teased you about how you always dragged him around, but you knew he secretly loved it. when you dragged him to the eiffel tower, he couldn't say much as he was starstruck at how bright your smile light up the place. not even this could get him to tease you. feeling his gaze on you, you asked what was wrong. he could only reply with a simple "you look beautiful. your smile could light up the whole world."

anton :

you always knew anton was shy, and that never bothered you. In fact, you loved it. you didn't need to always speak to one another to know you both appreciated each other. so spending time together was always chill, just some music surrounding you two and the occasional conversation was all you needed. he had the great idea to paint each other while at your apartment. you assume he saw the idea on tiktok but you never said anything. "are you ready?" he asked while sitting down at the table opposite you, gathering his paint. you nodded, already feeling excited to see how he'd paint you. you started to carefully paint him over your sketch. time went by fast as you were so immersed in painting, so before you knew it, it was time to show it off. "it's not that good, sorry," you mutter shyly, anton scoffed as he saw your masterpiece, "are you kidding? you're a natural at everything you do."

seunghan :

you never really played many games, so whenever seunghan wanted to play with you, you'd have no idea what you're doing. he always said he'd teach you, but you'd both end up being too busy to fulfil his wish. so when the time for you to learn finally came, you were scared. you knew how he got over his games, especially when he lost a match with the way he swore. but to your surprise, he went easy with you and was calm the whole time. sitting in his lap while he told you all the main keys to use, "these are the keys you use to walk around," once you'd gotten the hang of everything, he put you in a match. you were doing good, to your surprise - even seunghan was shocked, yet he couldn't help but smile at your reaction to winning. you turned around with a wide smile on your face, feeling proud of your first victory, before he kissed your cheeks and said, "you did an amazing job."

[1800i-dont-write-fanfiction]

just found out babies are real. spiraling

He had anticipated some measure of difficulty. Awkwardness, perhaps. A certain emotional distance that would, in time, dissolve into fondness. He was instead ambushed, seized entirely by affection. Overcome by the particular curve of her ear. The length of her eyelashes. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. He bowed his head over her. “ Emma lath… ” he whispered, voice shaking apart at the seams, “I am...” Unraveling like poorly hemmed robes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65406511

The place they had made for themselves followed a kind of rhythm, a borrowed facsimile of day and night. And though it bore no allegiance to the sun or any clockwork order, it held its own patterns from which certainty might be fashioned. Somewhere outside, wind rattled through bare branches while the sky gradually turned pale. It could have been late autumn, or very early spring. And in the hour before dawn, many ages after making their home in the Fade, a small, fearsome creature came into being.

He scarcely believed it possible . Not for lack of trying, but because he lived so wholly in the present with Ellana, so entirely taken with his heart, that the notion of a future seemed almost impertinent. How could enough time have passed for this ? How could such a change have stolen upon him while he hardly marked its approach? The fault, he supposed, lay partly in his own nature; he was a creature of emotion, and though he formed his flesh in an echo of conviction, it was never a true beginning. Spirits, after all, did not enter the world as infants. He had never been small, or helpless, or in need of anything he could not seize by will alone. Mostly .

A man might learn, through study or stubbornness, to shoulder the weight of the world. But to be entrusted with something so small and fragile was another matter entirely. He had little personal experience with children, nor the strange, soft creatures they were before becoming so, and feared he lacked whatever inborn qualities might guide others. And then there was the private unnameable thing, that she would place her trust where it was neither earned nor proven, simply because he was there to receive it. The enormity of that faith demanded a forbearance he was not certain he possessed, and a steadfastness he feared he had already spent.

He sat before the hearth, watching flames throw shadows across the stone. He was faintly aware of the absentminded circular motion of his thumbs tracing over his kneecaps. Ellana had not spoken in some time. 

The ordeal had been equal parts brutal and strangely silent. She had trembled through each wave of suffering, shaking, in truth, as the bare-limbed trees. Dalish women were not encouraged to scream. They were expected, from the time they were very young, to endure the brands of adulthood without so much as a whimper. That tradition, it seemed, extended to motherhood. If the vallaslin could be received without sound, then surely this, too, could be done. And what Solas offered, she had accepted only sparingly. In the end, it had been her body, not his comfort, that knew the steps.

Yet the silence she fought so fiercely to preserve was soon broken; a low hum of breath that became a whimper, then a scream. A rising, spiraling shriek, the almost but not-quite- music sound– it was something more primal, then. A howl, jarring in its newness and altogether ungoverned by any laws of rhythm or harmony. Demands made by a creature of instinct, shouting displeasure into a world she had only just entered. A fugue , Solas thought absurdly.

Now, Ellana sat propped against the pillows with their daughter cradled to her breast, looking both flush and pale all at once; the colour was high in her cheeks, but her lips were drawn faint with fatigue. The hair was damp at her brow. 

Upon latching, the child made a new sound, something between a hum and a sigh. Perhaps the ordeal of her arrival had been greatly exaggerated, and the business of living was, in fact, rather agreeable. Or at least the eating part. She then quieted to occasional murmurs punctuated by soft coos that sounded almost conversational. 

“She’s calmed down,” Ellana murmured, stroking her temple with gentle fingers. Her voice was low, for the quiet between them had been hard-earned.

Standing at a cautious distance, Solas braced one hand against the mantel while the fire snapped softly in the hearth. He did not dare speak, barely dared to breathe, for to do so too loudly might disturb the fragile peace that had settled over them.

It was clear his heart had long since abandoned the boundaries of her strength, clinging with a merciless devotion to the infant even before it had fully acquiesced to her love. When she grit the words between her teeth, a decision born of either love or blood loss or nescessity, Solas obeyed with only mild hesitation and took the creature into his arms. She was now satiated and utterly unbothered by the historic nature of the occasion, and settled against him with the ease of one who presumed belonging, as if his arm had been shaped not through muscle or magic but to accommodate her alone. 

He looked down. She looked up.

Oh .

He had anticipated some measure of difficulty. Awkwardness, perhaps. A certain emotional distance that would, in time, dissolve into fondness. He was instead ambushed, seized entirely by affection. Overcome by the particular curve of her ear. The length of her eyelashes. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. He bowed his head over her. Even the idea that this faultless creature might ever know pain, or loneliness, or fear, was enough to hollow out his chest and leave him gasping. If he cradled her closer, he might yet shelter her from every cruelty the world had known. “ Emma lath… ” he whispered, voice shaking apart at the seams, “I am...” Unraveling like poorly hemmed robes . Solas began to weep in earnest.

She yawned, then studied him with all the solemn intensity of a savant. Or perhaps it was the shadows that she watched, or the flicker of light across the ceiling. Her small brow furrowed. A strangely severe expression, when stretched across new skin , he thought. A tiny wrinkle lay between her–

Eyes. He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. Pale grey-blue, and violet . Mercifully unclouded. Scattering soft brown freckles across her cheeks and brow, and a pair of full, pink lips. So he had left his imprint there with a careful hand. 

He had seen her eyes first during the birth, though the memory of that moment, staggering at the time, was already made pale and insubstantial. They were his, unmistakably, but somehow lovelier, clearer, brighter being hers . He never imagined he might see them reflected in another creature, least of all one knit from the very flesh he had fashioned to house his own weary spirit. Perhaps , he thought with a flicker of belated irony, I ought to have been more intentional .

“You are… very serious,” he murmured, as if she might understand. “A trait I assure you is not solely your own.”

She smacked her lips with what he could only deduce as vague dissatisfaction before curling tighter against him. Is she cold? Perhaps she requires more warmth . He scooted closer to the fire, turning toward it until his eyes burned. He was determined that she should not feel even a whisper of cold. If necessary, he decided, he would burn the entire Fade-cabin to keep her warm. That might even be preferable.

“I…” His voice caught in his throat. He tried again. “You are…” But what was she? Hope, perhaps, or punishment. A promise made flesh. His heart thundered wildly against his ribs. He swore he would lay it at her feet could he tear it from his bodily cage. If she commanded him to build her a fortress from sticks and moss, he would begin at once. If she asked for the moon, he would attempt to trick it personally. Consumed by something dangerously blissful, he thought he might simply cease to exist and collapse into raw energy to be reconstituted.

What if, he thought gravely, I fail to support her neck properly?

She sneezed. 

He gasped.

The next moment saw him muttering a panicked assessment beneath his breath, crouched low to diagnose a wounded animal or defuse an unstable magical artifact. “Does she require something?” he whispered, “Is she ill?”

Bending lower still, so close that she was entirely obscured by his own nose, he peered into her face with a desperate sincerity. “Are you hungry, da’len?” he asked, and when she made no response, “Would you prefer,” he faltered, “Do you require your Mamae ?”

The words emerged in a jumble, as though he were attempting to negotiate with a very small and unreasonable god. She blinked once, then opened her mouth for another wet, skeptical yawn. Her eyes, though clearly unfocused, were altogether unimpressed as they drifted to the ceiling with an air of long-suffering. He had been quite clearly dismissed. 

There was a fire in the hearth, somewhere behind him, and a world beyond the door. He was aware of these things in the abstract, the way one might recall a half-remembered social commitment. But at present, they could not have interested him less. All that remained was the child, so slight, so utterly new that he scarcely believed she was real. She was perfect. It was unearned, unreasonable.

“You,” he whispered against her temple, still weepy, “What am I going to do with you?”

Then, there was madness that he accepted with the same sober clarity with which one might recognize the first signs of winter. It would not pass over him, it would endure, and he would, in all likelihood, spiral again tomorrow, and the day after, and all the days to come. 

Ellana slept. Her posture was slack in the fullness of exhaustion, her brow still faintly drawn in the memory of pain. He turned to look upon her– just slightly, not far, not enough to shift the child. Only to remind himself that she, too, was real. That she had brought their daughter into this world was a strength and strangeness he could not yet begin to fathom. There would be time to contemplate her nature, yet. 

In her early years, she followed her father with the steadfast devotion of his own shadow. Eyes were wide and filled with questions that tumbled forth as naturally as she breathed.

“Why does the sun move?” she asked one day, tugging earnestly upon the hem of his robe. And Solas, ever severe, but never unkind, knelt before her until each question was satisfied. He addressed her not as one might a child, but a scholarly pupil, albeit a very small one.

She listened with the whole-bodied attention particular to the very young. Her head cocked as though she were a bird learning the melody of his words. When he concluded, she clapped once, decisively, and declared her intention to know next why frogs croaked but never sang.

Ellana would watch them from a distance, though her heart rarely strayed far. She felt their daughter was brilliant, perhaps dangerously so. And Solas, so accustomed to secrets and solitude, had become the most devoted of fathers, answering her every inquiry with unflinching sincerity. The girl’s childhood was stitched together, not with lullabies, but lessons in the architecture of forgotten cities and the shape of dreams.

She named constellations before she could tie her own boots. At breakfast, she posed questions of metaphysics and philosophy with her legs swinging from a too-tall chair. Yet with each passing year, Ellana’s fond amusement was laced with a gentle, persistent unease. She bore her father’s voracious mind, yet none of his caution. She was bold, impulsive, and startlingly direct, untempered by the quiet codes of mortal society. How could she be otherwise? She had known only indulgence, and a world sculpted gently by those who adored her.

In the years which followed the death of the last two Evanuris, the Crossroads regained something of its former tranquillity, and once more became a haven for spirits. It was during this comparatively peaceful interlude that Solas and Ellana, encouraged by a mixture of philosophical curiosity and parental fondness, resolved that their daughter ought to be introduced, under careful supervision , to the wider Fade. The decision was made, as so many are, not solely out of necessity, but because the child had insisted with eloquent tenacity that to deny her would have been not only unkind, but profoundly exhausting.

And so it was that they departed the quiet security of their home for a place where spirits assembled– not for commerce in any ordinary sense, but to engage in the lively exchange of memory, metaphor, and other such intangibles. The city rose before them according to the logic of dreams: towers shaped like questions, courtyards that sang as one walked through them, and narrow alleys that whispered lullabies in languages long lost to time. Through its many squares drifted spirits in a parade of impossible forms.

“Some of them look like elves,” she hissed conspiratorially to her father. Solas, amused, permitted himself a quiet chuckle. “And where do you believe elves come from?” he asked, having not yet encountered the topic. She did not reply, hving already been distracted by a spirit shaped like a stormcloud, to whom she asked whether it ever rained on purpose, or only by accident. She then struck up a wordless but apparently meaningful conversation with a group of wisps. Another spirit, more shadow than form, whispered a riddle that left her quiet for nearly a full minute. This was so unprecedented that Solas placed a hand to her forehead, certain she must be ill. 

Her father corrected gently where he could, or rather, where he thought it prudent to do so. However, the day was not without incident. 

It was their hope, perhaps a naïve one, that introducing her to a small settlement of spirits might encourage a degree of social refinement. The spirits themselves, being largely of the temperate variety, welcomed her with the kind of indulgent interest usually reserved for young animals and particularly earnest scholars. She, in turn, regarded them with unfiltered delight. Unfortunately, she spoke with the same.

“My Babae said if you get angry, you turn into a rage demon,” she announced to a spirit of Calm with no evident inclination toward combustion. 

The brief silence that followed was so immediate it might have been broken only by the spontaneous and accidental collapse of the Veil. (that would have been better). Solas felt the color drain from his face. Ellana stopped mid-step, nearly spilling an entire basket of elfroot and embrium. The spirit of Calm, whose nature was not inclined toward haste, furrowed its brow, attempting to decide whether this was a genuine inquiry or a deeply unfortunate provocation.

Fenhedis , He thought desperately.

“Can you show me?” 

Solas, whose expression had settled into something faintly tragic, took her hand with the delicate urgency of a man removing a lit candle from a library shelf, apologized, and murmured something vague about decorum as he gently steered her away. 

He could not bring himself to speak, and walked stunned, stunted, with his daughter’s small hand tucked into his own. Her’s was warm and impossibly trusting, as if he had not just witnessed the complete discompose of what little social equilibrium remained in the settlement. His gaze was distant, fixed somewhere beyond the horizon of nonmaterial comprehension as his thoughts cycled through a dismal litany of failure: I have failed as a father, he thought, bleakly. As a mentor. As a scholar. I failed Mythal, and the People, and Vhenan, and the basic principles of conversational restraint, and–

The spirit of Calm, to its credit, had recovered first, bowing its head in something like gentle bewilderment before drifting away.

Ellana, having composed herself just long enough to appear the more reasonable parent, now stood with her back to them, shoulders trembling and eyes glistening from the heroic effort of suppressing laughter. Her mouth twitched treacherously at the corners as she pressed a hand to her face, purportedly to adjust her hair.

Beside him, their daughter skipped lightly. “I only asked because I thought it would be very interesting ,” she offered, swinging their joined hands. “And it did look like he could, if he really wanted to. You said spirits change to reflect different aspects of their nature,” she pointed out innocently, “I thought maybe he just needed someone to ask.”

Ellana coughed loudly to hide her laughter. Solas closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. Slowly. The words were, in fact, his own , repurposed and returned to him by a child who had taken them as an invitation. It was a peculiar kind of horror reserved for those who find themselves quoted by their offspring.

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 4 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (3)

ITACHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: This was it. The climax. Narratively and physically. You could safely say that there was potions and magic and sex, oh my. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Explicit n-sfw content. All alphas have penises, fyi.

A/N: It's finally December! Happy holidays everyone! Anyway, enjoy the final part of Itachi's book! I really enjoyed writing for him and his witchy goodness. I don't know if this chapter is good because I'm so tired lol. Next chapter we'll meet the second mystery omega in the second book, no spoilers yet, but I think my dearest friend @omeganronpa will have quite a difficult choice ahead~ I do like to make my gifts slightly torturous of course ;) Enjoy <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

You pulled back from Itachi and knelt at his feet, chomping at the bit to shower him in love and pleasure. You were grateful that your discarded shirt provided enough of a cushion to keep your knees from being bruised by the rock floor, although at this point, you weren’t sure there was any injury big enough to stop you.

Itachi’s feet were resting on the stone, with his calves and knees pressed together. You gently ran your hands over Itachi’s calves, up to his knees and then back down again, admiring his soft skin.

“Can you open your legs for me, pretty?” you cooed, not ceasing with your ministrations.

Itachi shivered, “I… You do it. Please.”

His desire for complete submission was certainly one of the sexiest parts of his newly discovered temperament, and one you were eager to encourage.

You placed on hand on each of his knees and then slowly drew his legs apart like you were unwrapping a gift. They parted easily, showing a great amount of flexibility in his hips, and soon he had his feet placed on the floor, one each side of the stone slab. Then, taking care to avoid any friction burns, you grabbed Itachi’s hips and dragged him closer to you, until his bare crotch was in front of your face, completely uncovered and unobscured.

The shadows created by the fire accentuated the angles of Itachi’s body, drawing your eyes in a multiple of directions at once. First to his hip bones, then to the valley of his surprisingly toned stomach, and finally, to the star of the show, his rock-hard, rosy cock that curved towards his stomach and twitched cutely as you stared at it. It was a good size, just a little smaller than average, and had a pleasant colour and presentation. All around, it was a pretty dick that suited him, and you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on it.

You glanced up and noticed that Itachi had propped himself up on his arms to watch you. When you caught his gaze, he broke eye contact bashfully. Cute.  

The pliant skin of Itachi’s thighs was so soft that you had no difficulty redirecting your focus to them. Watching the skin move around your thumbs as you massaged him was hypnotising. His thighs were also surprisingly toned. Did having to walk everywhere cause this, or was this yet another nod towards his questionable childhood? It hardly seemed like Itachi had a passion for working out.

Regardless, you laid your cheek on his left thigh and gave it an affectionate nuzzle. You also left a little kiss for good measure, one that could have probably been described as chaste had it been on Itachi’s lips instead.

You had been given a blank canvas and you were going to paint it so thoroughly that the marks would stay even if this world reset.

You started at the lower part of his left thigh, kissing, teasing, and biting your way up. Every gasp and whimper that you drew from your witch inflated your confidence and spurred you on further. A hickey here, teeth marks there, kisses everywhere you could.

But then, just as you reached the crease where his thighs ended and his hips started, just as Itachi’s cock twitched in anticipation, you withdrew, starting again from the lower parts of his thigh, this time the right one.

Itachi hissed in frustration but didn’t voice a complaint.

You repeated your ministrations on the other thigh, but once again, as you reached the place Itachi wanted you the most, you withdrew.

Itachi made a little petulant noise this time.

“You’re teasing me,” he accused, the shadow of a pout on his face.

“Hmm, am I?” you teased back, scratching your fingernails over his hips and lower stomach. You laughed as he glared at you. You made to go for his cock but diverted at the last moment to press on one of the love bites.

“Stop teasing,” he said, his pout deepening.

“Oh, so demanding.” You blew some air onto his cock and watched it jump. “You don’t look like someone in a position to be making demands, ‘tachi.”

Much to your amusement, Itachi huffed, blowing some loose hair from his face.

“Itachi,” you cooed, nuzzling his thigh. “I know what’s going to get you feeling really good. Just lay back and let me give you what you need. Your job is to take it, not demand it.”

You had fallen easily and quickly into your role as a dom, the words spilling out before you could stop them. You were worried for a moment that you crossed some lines, but Itachi’s pupils expanded, and the fight bled out of him instantly. Oh… he liked it. He liked that you were in control of his pleasure, and he had just been playing a little at being the brat, not that he was particularly good at it.

You watched as Itachi pressed a shaky hand to his mouth, a healthy blush on his cheeks that was slowly creeping down his chest. Yes, you could tell he was a good boy, not a brat, and you expected no further petulance from him now that you had set your expectations for his behaviour.

Despite all your teasing though, you had no intention of making him wait. Primarily because the saliva pooling in your mouth was becoming unsustainable as every cell in your body screamed at you to take his pretty cock in your mouth and make him see stars.

Without warning, you enveloped his dick with your mouth until your lips were sealed around the base, taking him completely in one movement. Itachi let out an aborted scream, out of shock or pleasure you weren’t sure, but you hoped it was both.

“Ah, fuck, that’s—”

That was the first swear you had heard from him, which only served to remind you that you were the first person to ever use your mouth on him like this. You were the only one who got to see him like this, and that thought made you hot, even in the middle of the Winter.

You hollowed your cheeks and slowly and deliberately moved up and down. The weight of him on your tongue was satisfying and he tasted surprisingly pleasant. You swirled your tongue around the head. Itachi seized for a moment, and when you looked up at him, you saw that his jaw was hanging open.

You couldn’t smirk at him while you had his cock in your mouth, but you hoped your eyes could convey your thoughts well enough.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Itachi was muttering to himself, looking like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

You paid special attention to the largest vein that ran along the underside of his cock, using your tongue to massage and caress it. Itachi’s hips jolted, lifting towards your mouth. He let out a strangled noise, like he was trying to moan and gasp at the same time. As his hips jolted, his cock hit the back of your throat. You coughed, not expecting the sudden force, and pulled back.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?” Itachi looked mortified. He tried to sit up, presumably to check on you, but you finished clearing your throat and placed a hand on his stomach to keep him reclined.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” you said, sending him a reassuring look. “It was my fault; clearly I should have been pinning your hips down.” To make your point, you grabbed his hips in your hands and held them firmly to the stone slab. “There. Now you can’t be naughty anymore.”

Itachi made an outraged noise, “I’m not—I’m not—I’m not naughty.”

“No, not anymore.” It was hard to keep your grin supressed but teasing him was simply too much fun.

“You—”

Itachi’s words cut off as you returned to the blowjob, the argument dying on his lips. He was leaking precum steadily now, but it wasn’t nearly as bitter as you had expected. Was the more pleasant taste a feature of his very healthy diet, or a feature of living in an erotica? Perhaps both. Would the same be true for you? A hypothesis for a later time.

After a few minutes, you pulled off the omega’s now glistening dick and took to lathering the sides with your tongue to give your mouth a bit of a break. You paid extra attention to the head; Itachi seemed the most sensitive there. You used your tongue to circle it in tight loops, occasionally dipping into his slit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop, please, please, please,” Itachi babbled. He sat up and laced his fingers in your hair, still rambling incoherently. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t, I can’t, don’t stop!”

You weren’t normally a fan of your partner trying to guide your head when you were giving oral, but Itachi seemed to be less interested in guiding you, and more interested in using you as a way to stay upright, so you allowed it. You could already tell that, if you stayed in this world, Itachi would have you wrapped around his little finger. Good job he wasn’t a brat, because you didn’t have the heart to tame him.

As the blowjob continued, Itachi kept proving that he was incredibly sensitive. As you kissed up his cock, he whole body shivered, and when you were lucky enough to catch glimpses of his face, his eyes were clenched tight. Any semblance of vocal control had flown out the proverbial window, and Itachi’s cacophony of moans were echoing around the cave, filling your head from every direction. That, combined with the way his silhouette was pasted in shadows on the cave wall, made it feel like you were being entirely consumed by Itachi. You were surrounded by him and his pleasure, and it was the most invigorating feeling imaginable.

This hadn’t at all been what you imagined when you swore that today would be the day that you and Itachi would take things further, but there was something about it that made it perfect.

Itachi looked entirely wrecked at this point, making little ‘ah’ noises whenever you moved your tongue. You wondered briefly if Itachi’s sensitivity was his own trait or born from existing in an erotica. Would you also be more sensitive? You hoped so. Oh! Would you be able to stay hard for longer or recover faster? Now that would be handy.

You gave a particularly harsh suck and suddenly Itachi’s legs came up to wrap around your head, trapping you against his dick, much to your surprise. Itachi didn’t seem to notice, even as you coughed.

Without warning, Itachi plummeted into an orgasm, filling your mouth with his sweet cum. Considering his inexperience, you figured that even he hadn’t known what was happening fast enough to give you a warning.

“Hah, there’s— hngg, how, I can’t—” Itachi was coiled like a spring while he came, his stomach muscles clenching with every shot. Dutifully, you swallowed everything, trying your best to keep up.

After the final shot, Itachi suddenly went limp. He flopped backwards, returning to his original reclined position. His legs fell from their tightly gripped position on your head to lay limply on your shoulders. He was taking deep, shuddering breaths, but didn’t move or speak.

You used your new freedom to wipe your lips. Yep, this world was definitely making everything taste better, there’s no way a good diet would be enough to make it taste like that.

Carefully, you moved each of Itachi’s legs off your shoulders and placed them on the ground. Itachi made no attempt to stop you, physically or verbally.

Once you were free to stand, you went to his head end and perched on the edge of the stone slab. Itachi looked completely blissed out; his entire face was flushed, his eyes were still closed, and his breathing was still a little uneven. You doubted he’d ever had an orgasm like that, and the part of your brain controlled by your base instincts was ever so cocky about it.

“You okay?” you asked, ignoring the instincts and going with the softer impulse. You caressed his forehead lovingly, swiping away stray hairs. “That must have been a lot, huh?”

Itachi hummed in agreement, his eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you. He held your gaze for a few moments, his eyes still lidded, before they shot fully open in panic.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you, and I manhandled you, and I’m so sorry, do you need some napkins, let me grab you some.” He sat up and tried to reach for the basket, but you caught his hands and held them to your chest.

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, and I don’t need any napkins, I swallowed everything.”

There was a beat of silence before Itachi’s jaw dropped. You snorted at the scandalised look on his face. He was staring at your lips like he’d never be able to look at them the same way ever again. He looked a little faint, so you poked him on the nose to bring his attention back to the present.

“How was that?” you asked, changing the subject.

Itachi drew his legs up to his chest, “That was amazing,” he said breathlessly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you said sincerely. You certainly didn’t doubt that he was telling the truth after his performance. “You must be tired now though, maybe we should get home.” It was hurting your heart, (and your dick), to say that, but having just had his first real sexual experience, Itachi might not be in the mindset to reciprocate.

“A little, but—” He looked down and noticed your painfully tight trousers. “Oh! You haven’t finished yet.”

You sent him a wry grin, “Believe me, I’m aware. Sucking you off was incredibly hot and all, don’t get me wrong, but I need a bit more stimulation than that to get off.”

Itachi’s brows furrowed and it was incredibly obvious what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry about me, Itachi.” He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “We should head home before it gets dark.”

You really weren’t trying to play the martyr; that had been intense, and Itachi probably wanted a break, erotica or no. You didn’t want your first orgasm with him to be one of obligation, no matter how much your animal brain was arguing that that was better than nothing.

Itachi bit his lip, looking indecisive, but quickly his expression melted into one of determination.

“Itachi—”

“No. I want to try.” The look in his eyes was one you had seen before, mainly when he was trying to wrangle a new dinner recipe into submission, but also that one time he’d almost fought the waiter in town. It was the look of someone who wasn’t going to be easily swayed.

You hesitated, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now swap places with me. And take off your trousers.”

You did as he asked, throbbing in anticipation. The second your trousers had been discarded, Itachi stood up on his slightly shaky legs and pushed you down onto the stone bench. He then dragged your shirt into a better position for him and knelt down in between your legs.

Your legs were already spread, so Itachi placed his hands on your crotch, head tilted like his was trying to study the outline of your dick through your underwear. The whole situation reminded you of the time he’d spilt hot chocolate on you. At least this time he was aware of what he was doing.

“Itachi, you are so stunningly hot, has anyone ever told you that?”

Itachi smiled, “Only you.”

“That’s a crime, but I’m also glad I don’t have to fight off any competition. Imagine if we lived in a town; I’d be fighting suitors away from you with a stick.”

“Shut up.” Itachi’s voice was full of embarrassed amusement. “I’m trying to focus.”

“My bad.” You mimed zipping your lips, locking them, and then throwing away the key.

Itachi sighed, shaking his head, before focusing back on you. He studied you for a moment.

“I’m taking these off.” Impatiently, he tugged at the waistband of your underwear. You lifted your lips to aid him, and soon he had them off, and the fabric fell to your ankles.

Itachi had been studying you so closely that as its cloth prison was removed, your cock sprang out and thwacked Itachi directly on the cheek, an audible skin slapping noise reverberating around the cave.

“Oh!” Itachi jumped, his hands grabbing your erection automatically. Because he was so close, he had to go a little cross eyed to keep your dick in his sight.

You giggled, pushing him a little further back, just until he was sitting back on his knees. Itachi blinked up at you through his dark eye lashes, looking confused and a little upset that you’d pushed him away. He was so cute, completely out of his element and yet so sexy.

“Slow down,” you said, squishing his cheeks in your hands. Itachi shot you a glare, but the impact was lessened by his squishy cheeks. You laughed and let him go. “First, let me remove these.” You took your ankles out of your underwear and kicked it off to the side. “Now, relax. Why don’t you use your hands first, ‘tachi. Get a feel for it.”

Itachi’s look of determination returned as you gave him some instructions, and he immediately started to explore.

He ran his hands around the shaft first, wrapping you in a fist and stroking up and down. He moved slowly, occasionally looking up at you to see your reaction. He ran his fingers over the head, even tapping on your slit when a bead of precum appeared and then examining the liquid on the tip of his finger.

You were dangerously close to blowing your load all over his face and he had barely touched you. It was just so deeply erotic the way he was using you to satisfy his curiosity and learn what he was supposed to do. The innocence was enticing, but you were also going to have fun watching experience slowly overcome it. You wanted to corrupt him.

‘James, I’m developing new kinks.’

‘Congratulations, human alpha. Is it a human custom to mark such an event with a celebration?’

‘Oh, I’ll be celebrating in a moment, James, that I can promise you.’

Itachi was holding your erection in his palm, almost like he was testing the weight of it.

“It’s hot,” he said, trailing a finger down it. His eyes jumped up when he realised what he said. “I mean, warm, the temperature is high.”

You snorted, “I hope it’s also hot as in sexy. And I’m pretty sure your dick is the same temperature.”

“That’s different,” he mumbled, returning to his task with a pink glow to his face.

His bashfulness quickly disappeared once you stopped speaking. Itachi seemed to be enthralled by your dick. He was rhythmically squeezing at your knot with one hand and weighing your balls in the other. You were tempted to tell him to slow down because you were getting close, but your pride refused to admit that out loud, so you allowed him to continue.

Itachi’s hands stilled suddenly, and he bit his lip, staring down at a bead of precum that was running down the side. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he hesitantly leant in and caught the drop with a little kitten lick.

You didn’t know if it was because this was the first time you’d had his mouth on you, because you were more sensitive in erotica pocket dimensions, or because the lick had been devastatingly cute, but you swore your soul left your body.

‘James, I’m dying, this is it.’

‘You are already dead, human, please do not panic.’

Itachi hummed consideringly as he pulled away, licking at his lips a little. Whatever he found didn’t seem offensive, because he leant back in for another few gentle licks.

Take his mouth, show him your strength, cum on his face to mark him so other alphas know he’s yours. Your instincts were screaming. How could one omega drive you so wild? He was treating your dick like it was an ice lolly. You were about to cum as quickly as a teenager, so for your own ego, you decided that you were definitely more sensitive in porn dimensions.

Itachi suddenly slipped the head into his mouth and began to suck gently.

“Oh, Itachi!” you moaned, toes curling. Itachi looked up at you in shock, almost as though he had forgotten that you were attached to the dick he was worshiping. You affectionately brushed some hair from his face, drinking in the sight of Itachi’s lips stretched around your dick. “Why don’t you try to go a little further down, baby? You’re doing so well; you feel amazing.”

With a determined glint in his eyes, Itachi took a deep breath and then forced himself down until the head of your cock hit the back of his throat. Not expecting that, you almost came at the feeling of his throat spasming and massaging you as he inevitably choked.

“Woah, woah, slow down.” You pulled Itachi’s head back as he coughed. It had felt amazing, but he was clearly lacking enough experience for that to be comfortable, and you wanted this to feel good for both of you. “Deep breaths.”

As Itachi stopped coughing, you wiped some of the drool off his lips and gave him a tap on his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Easy,” you soothed. “You went too fast. You need to work up to deep throating if that’s something you’re interested in. Give yourself some time to get used to it.”

He pouted, “You’re too big.”

“Are you complaining? Because you seem unable to keep your hands and eyes, your mouth too now, off it for very long.”

“You’re also mean.”

You chuckled. Perhaps it was a little mean to tease him about his obvious fascination with your cock, but it wasn’t like you were criticising it. If anything, you loved this newfound part of Itachi. Call you an alpha knothead or whatever, but you were proud of your cock, and knowing that Itachi loved it so much was hot and ego-boosting.

“Why don’t I guide you a bit? I can help you find your limit. Here.” You gently gathered his hair into a mock ponytail and held it in your fist. With that, you should be able to move his head without hurting him. “Open your mouth and put your tongue out.”

Itachi obeyed instantly, even though his blush gave away his embarrassment. See? He was definitely a good boy at heart.

You took your cock in your free hand and rested it carefully on his tongue. Itachi blinked up at you but sat still and took it.

“Get used to the weight of it, the size, the taste, everything. Don’t put it in your mouth yet, just use your tongue.”

Itachi wiggled his tongue a little, creating a pleasant, if a bit ticklish, sensation.

“Good boy.” Itachi moaned a little saliva dribbling down his chin. You wiped it away with your thumb, marvelling at the way Itachi’s eyes started to droop as his focus returned to your dick. You had no trouble believing that he was specifically created for an erotica novel, even with the whole murder backstory thing.

‘James, if I die here, can you make sure that everyone knows that I went out getting a blowjob from the prettiest omega in existence?’

‘It is literally impossible for you to die in pocket dimensions, human. I am worried about how many times I’ve had to explain that to you. Did you lose some of your mental facilities during your untimely death?’

‘I don’t think so, but I’m definitely losing mental facilities on Itachi’s tongue.’ As you ‘spoke’, Itachi panted hot breath onto your cock and you shivered, tightening your grip on his hair instinctually, something which caused Itachi to make a little proud and pleased noise.

‘Human, while I understand those words separately, your completed sentence is nonsensical.’

You tuned James out; you had far more important things to attend to.

“’tachi, try putting it in your mouth properly now, just around the tip.” He did as you instructed, eyes glazed. “Very good, you’re doing so well.”

Itachi tried to speak, but the words were incomprehensible. You hissed at the combination of the delicious vibration and the sting of his teeth.

“Pull off if you’re going to speak, okay?” you instructed. He nodded, so you tried to pull him off so that he could say whatever he’d been trying to say, but he made a noise of discontent and pushed back against you so your dick would stay in his mouth.

Was it weird to say that his inexperience was only making this whole thing better? There was something inside you that was endlessly pleased by having this omega, who had never even touched an alpha’s dick before, worshipping yours like it was his reason for living. The idea that he was so dedicated that he couldn’t bare to take things slow was the cherry on top of an already perfectly horny scenario.

As you were lost in thought, Itachi idly suckled, more relaxed now that you had stopped trying to remove him.

“Okay, good boy, you can go a little further. Try and focus your tongue on the head and the biggest vein at the base.” His tongue wiggled around for a moment and when he found the vein, he looked up at you for praise. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your voice steady. “That’s the one, very good. For many people, those are the most sensitive places.”

Not that you ever wanted his mouth on anyone else’s dick of course. The thought made you a bit nauseous in all honesty. You wanted to be his first and last. But if you didn’t pick him… someone else eventually would, for good this time. You felt angry just entertaining the possibility. Your upcoming choice was going to be painful if the second omega was as easy to love as Itachi. Part of you was tempted to just tell James that you’d already made your mind up, but you knew you’d forever wonder about the other book if you didn’t experience it.

Seeing that Itachi was comfortable, you guided him a couple more centimetres down, watching him closely, although the wet heat on your cock was admittedly making it hard to focus.

Too quickly, he tried to push down further, but you held his hair tight to keep him where he was.

“Take your time, Itachi, how many times do I have to say that? My dick isn’t going anywhere.”

He growled at you, but you only moaned in response as the vibrations ran straight to your lower stomach, knotting it in the best way. Itachi seemed shocked and intrigued by your reaction.

“Vibrations feel good, Itachi,” you explained, trying to mush out words when your brain was slowly turning to mush. “That’s why—” Itachi started to purr. He started to purr around your dick.

Damn, you really were going to die here. Shocked and pleasured, you let out a little cry and dropped the hold you had on Itachi’s hair. Making the most of his newfound freedom, Itachi pushed himself further down, until only an inch of your dick wasn’t in his mouth. He couldn’t seem to get any further, but he didn’t let that discourage him. He moved his head up and down with reckless abandon, purring and humming all the while.

Eventually, through your pleasured haze, you noticed that Itachi was firmly pressing the pressure point on his palm that the nosy old man in town had suggested. At least you now knew that strategy worked.

Itachi sucked and licked and kissed, moaning loudly, eyes heavily lidded, drool leaking out of the edges of his lips. The noise was obscene, bouncing off the walls of the cave and filling your head from every direction. The extra sensitivity was hurtling you rapidly towards your orgasm. You stomach felt like it was filled with molten lava. You needed to warn Itachi.

“Itachi.”

He didn’t respond. It was like his mind had emptied of all thoughts so that he could focus on your cock. It would have been much hotter if you didn’t need him to listen to you right now.

“Itachi? Come on.” You took the initiative to pull him off your cock. There was a wet pop noise as the seal he was creating with his mouth broke. Itach whined, tugging back towards your cock.

“Baby?” Itachi looked up at you, dazed. “I’m going to cum soon.”

Itachi blinked at you, swallowing a few times before he got the words out. “In my mouth?” he asked, staring up at you.

You hummed, stroking his face a little, “No, not yet. I’m going to use one of the napkins, but are you okay getting me to the edge with your tongue?”

Itachi nodded and went to return to your cock immediately. You stopped him with a hand.

“Let me grab a napkin first.” Itachi shook his head. “No? Why?”

“I want you to cum on my face,” he mumbled, nuzzling at your cock. “Please?”

Fuck. You swallowed heavily at his words and attempted, and subsequently failed, to keep your voice steady as you replied.

“If you want me to, darling.”

Itachi clearly did, because he immediately started to kiss and run his tongue all over you. While he worshipped you, you thought about how hot everything was, and how obsessed Itachi was with your cock. It took an embarrassingly short time to knock you over the edge.

“I’m cumming!”

Itachi stopped licking and sat back, closing his eyes. Quickly, you grabbed your dick and aimed it at his face. The first cum shot felt like you were firing a gun. All that tension, all that build up, the prettiest target in front of you, it wasn’t shocking that it was one of the best orgasms of your life.

The first shot hit Itachi in the cheek. He squeaked and jumped slightly, but his eyes remained closed and waiting. Perhaps you were just too horny for coherent thought, but you thought the sticky, white cum suited him.

Your stomach clenched and the second shot ripped through you, hitting Itachi just above the eye. Some clung to his long eyelashes, creating a striking contrast between the deep black and pearly white.

The third and largest shot hit Itachi in the forehead, some of it getting caught in his hair. You had expected that to be the end, and so the fourth one took you by surprise. You almost doubled over with the intensity of it.

It was then quickly followed by a fifth and sixth shot. Baffled and addled by your ongoing orgasm, it took you a few moments to realise that the porn logic must have been affecting the amount of cum you had, because this was not normal.

It continued until your stomach ached from the prolonged muscle usage, and Itachi’s face was covered in your cum. Despite your sudden exhaustion, your instincts were roaring in delight. You had claimed your omega. You had drenched him so thoroughly in your scent, in your seed, that no other alpha would dare make a claim on him. No one could threaten your bond, not when he was like this. You gazed proudly down at Itachi.

Slowly, the euphoric and instinctual haze receded, and you realised that you were leaving Itachi kneeling at your feet, covered in your cum, without even trying to help clean him up.

“Oh! Hang on! I’ll grab some napkins!” You scrambled for the basket and rifled through it until you had a couple of the napkins. Itachi didn’t move, he just knelt there at your feet. Was he okay?

You held the back of his neck to keep him steady, and delicately wiped him up, starting with his eyes, then his lips, and finishing up with the rest of his face. There wasn’t much you could do about his hair until you were home.

“Are you okay, Itachi?” His eyes flickered open, but he seemed to be having trouble focusing on your face. His scent was calm, and yet still geared towards keeping you attracted to him, and he didn’t speak, even when you prompted him to do so. You recognised the behaviour straight away; he was in subspace. You had been thinking about the way he sometimes got spacy after intense make outs, but you’d written it off because surely there was no way he was that easy to put into subspace. But here you were, looking at the evidence that proved you were wrong.

You gently stroked his neck, adjusting your intentions to be more of what he needed if he was in subspace. You were honoured that he felt safe enough with you, and you weren’t going to ruin that by upsetting him.

“You did so well, Itachi, I’m so proud of you,” you said quietly. Itachi smiled tiredly but didn’t speak. You supported him to his feet, standing yourself too. His shaky legs caused him to lean on you heavily, but eventually, with your encouragement, he found his balance. “Stay there, ‘tachi.”

You peeled the cloak off the stone slab, cringing at the wet spot. The dampness wasn’t ideal, but Itachi wouldn’t be able to get home without its warmth, so you didn’t have a choice but to wrap him up in it. Itachi sighed happily at the warmth, burying his face into the collar, and let you guide him to sit back down, light purrs escaping him.

Once he was okay, you put on your own clothes, also revelling in the artificial warmth. The fire was on its way out by this point, and you had to leave as soon as you could to get home before dark. It was unfortunate that you couldn’t let Itachi come down from his high here in the cave, but being caught in the cold and dark would at least be unfortunate and more likely disastrous.

“Are you ready, darling?” You slipped your hand into his, hoping he’d be okay to walk. Itachi nodded, allowing you to lead him out of the cave. Unfortunately, you really needed him to lead the way back, as you had only the vaguest idea of how to get back to his cottage. “Which way d—”

Itachi stumbled over a branch, and it was only your conjoined hands that stopped him from face planting on the ground. Itachi looked up at you, a confused chirp escaping him, like he was asking you how you’d let him fall when you were supposed to be keeping him safe. It tugged on your heartstrings so much that you immediately pulled him into an embrace and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m cold,” he muttered, pushing his face into your shoulder. While the cloak was charmed, without any clothes underneath, it was also probably pretty breezy.

You cooed, “I bet. Why don’t I carry you home?” You couldn’t bear to have him uncomfortable for even a second, not when you could prevent it. “That would be warmer for you, but you have to show me the way home, okay?”

Itachi nodded, looking relieved, and held out his arms. You scooped him up into a princess carry, and he looped his arms around your neck before settling his head on your shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

…

You had arrived home just in time to avoid having to stumble through the woods in the dark, and the subsequent evening had passed by in a whirlwind of cleaning, cooking, eating and cuddling. Itachi had mostly recovered by the time you had arrived, even walking the last hour himself, but he remained mostly silent unless addressed directly, and you had to take extra care to help him navigate away from a subdrop.

In contrast, the following morning seemed to crawl by like a snail. It was the day you were supposed to be brewing the potion, but Itachi had insisted on cooking a massive breakfast that had taken him an hour to cook and just as long to eat. He maintained that he just felt like making an elaborate breakfast, but considering the significance of the day, you didn’t know if you believed him. You had a feeling that he was either stress cooking, attempting to show you how good of a mate he could be, or just trying to delay the inevitable.

At least you had managed to entertain yourself by admiring and pressing on his copious amounts of hickeys.

“Mm, if you keep doing that, the food is going to burn.” Despite his words, he arched into your touch as you pressed on a particularly large hickey on his neck.

You eyed the pots and pans on the hob, all of which were stirring themselves. “They’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about; what if you get lonely because I’m not kissing you?”

Itachi laughed, “You’re ridiculous.”

At least the long breakfast and clean up had allowed you plenty of time to tighten up the details of your backstory, ready for your memories to ‘return’. You were grateful for that last opportunity to plan, because now, having gathered all the necessary ingredients, the time had arrived to make the Amnesia Reversal Potion.

You and Itachi were sitting cross legged in the corner of bedroom that he used for experiments, meticulously cutting, grinding, and adding ingredients into his black cauldron. It was equal parts cool and overwhelming to watch potion brewing in action. If you ended up in this world, you were for sure going to learn to make as many as you could. Maybe you could convince Itachi to move slightly closer to a nearby town so that you could access supplies a little easier?

“This potion is extraordinarily simple,” Itachi remarked, dropping in the crushed Amplexus seeds. “No wait times, no stirring instructions, no temperature requirements. I’ve never seen one like it.”

“Weird.”

“Indeed. All I have to do is add the ingredients into the cauldron in the order that they’re listed in the ingredients list.”

“Isn’t it a good thing that it’s simple?”

Itachi grabbed a sprig of thyme and dropped it in, “Of course, it’s just strange.”

You watched the wooden tray empty as each ingredient was added to the potion in turn. The potion turned from brown, to pink, and then to purple at various intervals, bubbling, smoking, and spitting all at once. It seemed a little dramatic, but Itachi didn’t react as though anything was weird.

Eventually, there was only one ingredient left: Cinnamon. How weirdly mundane to be the climax of this potion making adventure.

Itachi added it and then began to stir, wrestling with the hydrophobic powder that seemed resistant to joining the potion. As he stirred, the potion gradually turned into a bright lime green. That was it then, right? That must be the potion!

But Itachi didn’t stop stirring, brows furrowed. He stared down at the cauldron like he was waiting for something more. He even picked up the recipe again to double check it.

“Is something the matter?” you asked, after the silence had stretched to uncomfortable levels.

“Look at the recipe, here.” He handed you to recipe, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be looking at. You send him a helpless gaze and he tapped on the sketch of the potion on the right side. “This is a sketch of the potion and it’s a shimmering gold. Our potion is green.”

You bit your lip, “Maybe it’s just artistic interpretation?”

“No, a shade or two different, fine, but a completely different colour? Our potion isn’t correct, but I’m not sure what I did wrong. I don’t even know how I could have gone wrong; it just says to add everything in order!” He plucked the recipe from your grip again and held it closer to his face, as though that would somehow solve the mystery.

It was then, as he held up the piece of paper, that you noticed something written on the back. Did the recipe continue on the other side? You had looked at this over a hundred times over the past fortnight, how could you have missed that there was something written on the back?

“Um, Itachi? Try flipping the page over.”

He hummed, confused, but did as you asked.

“Oh! You’re right! There’s one more ingredient, we must have missed it. It’s written much smaller than the other ingredients.” You silently passed him his glasses, which had been abandoned earlier once the steam from the potion had fogged them up, and he gratefully put them on.

 “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can find it somew—”

The sentence died as Itachi finally read the words on the back of the page.

You watched him, anxiously. “Itachi? Is something wrong?”

Itachi’s eyes flickered back and forth between your face and the recipe. Slowly, his face grew pink and heavily flushed. He didn’t speak.

“Itachi? What does it say? Is it something bad?”

Itachi opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Giving up, he thrust the paper out to you before bashfully burying his face in his palms.

Intrigued and vaguely concerned, you read the back of the recipe.

‘100ml of the fluid of a squirting omega.’

You coughed in surprise, dropping the recipe which floated slowly to the floor. Well, that answered your earlier question; you didn’t see it earlier because it would have screwed up the pacing of the plot if you had.

The erotica pocket dimension clearly wasn’t satisfied with the sappy mutual blowjobs in the cave yesterday. It wanted you to fuck Itachi properly, and it wanted you to do it hard.

“Oh. That’s quite the final ingredient.”

Itachi hummed in agreement.

Bizarre as it was, the longer you thought about it, the hotter it became. You had to overstimulate Itachi until he squirted, then use that to make a potion? Hilarious, and deeply erotic.

‘James, who is responsible for designing pocket dimensions, and can I shake their hand?’

‘That is confidential, and they do not have hands.’

‘Well, whoever they are, they need a raise.’

‘Why do they require increased elevation?’

‘Because these are mad times we’re living in James, mad times.’

‘You are not making any sense, human. Perhaps you should turn your attention to the omega in front of you. His body is displaying signs of heightened arousal, and I believe he would like you to solve that for him.’

One glance at Itachi and his newly tented shorts proved that James was correct, so you dropped the connection. Itachi, with his hands still covering his face, didn’t seem to have noticed his own raging boner quite yet.

“Well, at least we don’t have to leave the house to get the final ingredient,” you said, mouth moving faster than your filter. 

Itachi gave an embarrassed squeak, peeking at you in between his fingers. When he spoke, the words were hesitant and muffled. “That’s… um, I mean… I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” you said confidently. You figured that it wouldn’t make any sense to set this up as the erotic climax of the story if Itachi wasn’t capable of squirting. “I’ll make you squirt, trust me.”

Your brazen confidence seemed to have an effect on Itachi, who was looking progressively more flustered as he processed your words. His pupils were wide, cheeks pink, and there was a little wet spot at the tip of the tent in his shorts.

Oh yes, there was something about this situation that was getting to him, just like it was getting to you. You already knew he was submissive, of course, but perhaps your confidence in talking about his body was doing something more to him, or maybe the idea of mixing sex with magic was what was making him so hot.  

Either way, you leaned right into his space, smirking. Itachi’s released a delicious scent, something submissive, something horny, something to entice you to fuck him.  Who were you to deny him?

“Now, do you have anything we can use to collect liquid?”

…

You remembered, on your very first day in this world, how you studied Itachi’s living room to prove to yourself that this hole fever dream was real and find clues about the kind of life you might have here. The room looked a little different now. Itachi had levitated all the furniture against the wall and laid down a tarpaulin in the newly cleared space, creating the illusion of both more clutter and more space that the living room normally had. A large, red bucket stood innocently, front and centre by the fireplace, ready for a not so innocent purpose.

The room was bathed in an orange glow thanks to Itachi’s permanent fire magic crackling away in the fireplace. All these fires were going to give you a complex. It wouldn’t surprise you if you ended up being conditioned to pop a boner whenever you saw an open fireplace. But if you didn’t end up in this world, you were glad to know that fire would remind you of Itachi and your time here with him.

From the ceiling hung a metal bar, about 50cm in length, hanging horizontally from two sturdy pieces of wire.

“For drying flowers,” Itachi had said when you’d questioned why he had a bar in his ceiling capable of holding the weight of an adult person. His explanation didn’t really make any sense, but you had accepted it as porn logic and moved on.

Now though, there were no dried flowers in sight. Instead, from the bar, hung something much more precious. Itachi’s wrists were bound together above his head, secured to the metal bar with an old scarf you had found and swiftly repurposed. He was completely naked again, and although that always made for an enticing view, this particular moment was perhaps your favourite so far. Because your beautiful witch looked utterly wrecked.

You circled him, footsteps crinkling on the tarpaulin, and committed every inch of him to memory. He was shining, hot and sweaty from your games, with the hair that was not scraped back into his ponytail sticking to his face. His chest heaved in an attempt to beat his exertion with enough oxygen, and his hands, tied up though they were, periodically clenched themselves into fists.

Lovingly, you loosened his ponytail and then retied his hair back to include all the strands that had wiggled loose. Itachi didn’t comment on it, even as you pulled his hair away from his sweat-soaked skin. He only panted, head lolling against his extended right arm.

If you had known that overstimulating him had made him look so pretty, you wouldn’t have held out for so long.

“How many is that now, Itachi?”

��Three,” he panted, lifting his head up to look at you. “I’ve cum three times.”

“That’s right.” It had been a handjob, a blowjob, and a rimjob respectively. “Glad to see you’re still with me, for now at least.”

Itachi bit his lip; he was still embarrassed over how easily you’d put him into subspace yesterday. You used your thumb to remove his lip from his teeth and then held it there.

“You drive me crazy,” you breathed, watching his eyes dilate. “I want to take you apart just so I can build you up again. I want to see every face you make and claim every inch of your body. I want to get every artist in the world to paint you, just to find the one that can manage to even get close to your real-life beauty. I want to be the first person to touch you on the inside.”

To emphasise your point, you snaked an arm around his waist and slipped your hand down until you could slide your fingers over his hole. He was soaking wet, and after only a few seconds, you withdrew and held your dripping fingers up to the light.

“You’re so messy, Itachi,” you teased, rubbing your slick fingers together. “It’s like your hole is trying to tell me something.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” he muttered, cheeks going pink. You laughed and pulled him closer, until you were pressed right against him.

“Don’t worry, baby.” You returned your hand to his hole, but this time started applying a small amount of pressure. “Even if your mouth is too shy to admit it, I’ll give your hole what it needs.”

Your forefinger slipped in just as you finished speaking, only up to the first knuckle for now. With how wet and swollen he was, it was surprisingly easy, even for a virgin. Itachi stiffened, pulling at his restraint a little.

“You okay?”

“Fine, it just feels a little weird,” he said, squirming. “It feels bigger than I thought it would, for a finger.”

“It’s normal for it to feel a little strange at first, but I promise I can make you feel good. You’ll be squirting all over the place in no time.”

Itachi made a little embarrassed noise and dropped his head on your shoulder to hide his face. You gave him a little nuzzle, which he quickly returned. You purred so that he could feel the vibrations; you hoped that would help him relax.

“Deep breath.” You pushed the finger in to the second knuckle and then held it there. You wiggled it to help him get used to the foreign sensation. Itachi kept his head on your shoulder, where he occasionally pressed little kisses to your skin, as you worked on fingering him open.

You fucked the single finger in and out, meeting little resistance. The obscene squelching noises forced a shy whine out of Itachi, who you imagined would be fidgeting a lot more had you not secured him to the ceiling.

“You’re a natural, darling, I’m going to go up to two fingers. It might feel uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts, tell me immediately, okay?”

Itachi hummed in agreement but as the seconds ticked on, he seemed more and more focused on fucking himself back against your finger. He was so funny; He always got so embarrassed before and after orgasms, but the build up made him so shameless. As soon as he felt good, all those shy impulses disappeared and you were left with a completely different Itachi.

The second finger went in like a hot knife through butter. Itachi moaned, and with the hand that wasn’t fingering him, you rubbed his back in encouragement. You had originally chosen to finger him like this to give him some comfort as he entered unfamiliar territory, but you couldn’t deny that there weren’t also benefits for you, including the way you were positioned so perfectly to get his strongest, most unfiltered scent. You took a deep breath, letting Itachi’s floral scent of pleasure curl inside your lungs.

“How… How do I squirt?” Itachi asked quietly, face nuzzled into your neck. “I don’t know if I can… how does it even work?”

“I just need to find your prostate and then I can make it happen, don’t worry.” You picked up the pace, fingering him in and out, now with two fingers. He was accepting you so easily, drenching your hand in his liquid arousal.

“A prostate? What’s that?”

Your fingers paused their movements as you froze, shocked. Itachi didn’t know what the prostate was? That couldn’t be right, could it? Maybe he’d misspoken? Or you’d misunderstood? You opened your mouth to ask him to clarify, and maybe also ask if he’d ever had proper sex education as a child, but then you realised that it might ruin the mood to bring up his dysfunctional childhood or imply that he was wrong for not knowing something and inadvertently make him feel bad.

You couldn’t not ask someone though.

‘James? Do you know about this? Did Itachi ever have a proper sex education?’

‘Hmm, let me see.’ You got the distinct impression that she was flipping through pages, although you could neither hear nor see them. ‘Ah, yes. Itachi’s father presented him a book on the topic on his seventh birthday before instructing him not to have any questions.’

You rolled your eyes, of course. No wonder the poor man was confused.

“The prostate is a gland in your body that secretes the fluid part of ejaculate,” you explained, slowly starting up the fingering again before Itachi worried that he’d done something wrong. It was his terrible excuse for parents that had done something wrong after all, not him. If you stayed here, you were going to have to step in and give Sasuke the talk, because neither his parents nor older brother seemed qualified. Perhaps that was one mark against staying here… From Itachi’s sketches, you got the distinct impression that Sasuke wouldn’t neither take it well nor make it easy for you. “But it also feels very, very good. Here, let me find yours and I can show you.”

Seeing as Itachi was taking your fingers so well, you saw no issue in moving on to your next target. You crooked your fingers in search of the gland. It shouldn’t be too hard to find; it must be incredibly swollen after all the previous orgasms. Somewhere around here…

“Does it feel different to—”

Found it.

Itachi gasped hoarsely as you found it and began immediately pressing and rubbing at it. His back arched and his hips jolted as he tugged against the bar. His knees went weak for a moment and his weight dropped back to leaning against you as he gasped for air.  

“That’s—That’s—” He couldn’t finish the sentence as you continued to abuse his insides. “Oh my god, oh my god, how, how, it’s so much!”

He shook against you, biting into your shoulder. His moans got louder and more desperate until he was almost screaming. You kept it up until he was leaking all down your hand, some clear drops splashing against the tarpaulin. You pulled the hand from him in a flourish and caught him as he sagged.

There. The next one would be the squirt for sure, you thought, eyeing the liquid rolling down Itachi’s legs.

Itachi was completely limp in your grip. You readjusted your hold on him to make sure that his shoulder joints weren’t too strained, and then focused on bringing him down from that high as tenderly as you could. You stroked his back, whispered sweet nothings, and held him against you as firmly as you could. Four orgasms were a lot for one evening… although with your straining underwear, you reckoned you’d rather have four than none.

Eventually, when he gathered some of his wits about him, Itachi lifted his head from your shoulder and looked you in the eye.

“What the fuck?” was the only thing that came out of his mouth. You almost snorted in surprise at his swearing. “How did that happen? That’s never happened before.”

“I told you that the prostate would feel good,” you said, pecking him on the forehead. “Now, stand up properly so I can fetch the bucket over. I can give you a sex ed talk later, because right now we have a potion ingredient to harvest.”

“Harvest?” Itachi repeated, pulling a face.

You grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, I’ll admit that sounded sexier in my head.”

Itachi giggled a little, but stood up properly, allowing you to let him go and fetch the bucket, which you placed underneath him.

“Now,” you said, wiping your hands on a nearby towel, “do you want to squirt on my fingers or on my cock?”

Itachi’s laughter died off as embarrassment overtook it. You shook your head fondly at his predictable return to bashfulness now that he’d orgasmed.

“I… don’t know.”

“Come on, Itachi, how can I know what to do if you don’t tell me what you need.” You tapped him lovingly on the cheek. You had expected him to become more relaxed at the affectionate gesture, even with the teasing, but instead his face glowed an even brighter red and he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.

What?

‘Human, those are the fingers that were just inside him, meaning he can likely smell his own slick and is embarrassed.’

‘Oh yeah! Haha, forgot about that, thanks James.’

‘You’re welcome, human.’

You withdrew that hand, and while you briefly debated sucking on those fingers to see how he’d react, you discarded that though pretty quickly; you didn’t want to give the poor omega a heart attack.

“You’re not answering my question, ‘tachi. Come on,” you goaded, “tell me how you want me to make you squirt.”

Itachi huffed, still blushing, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Fingers or cock, it’s a simple choice, my darling.”

“I want… can I… your cock, please?” he eventually whispered, looking at you through his dark lashes.

You decided to try your luck in teasing him a bit more. “Oh? And where do you want my cock?”

He squirmed, “You know where.”

“Do I?”

He huffed again, sending you a glare for all the teasing.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, pecking him on the lips. “I’ll put my cock in your greedy hole, but you need to practice your begging for next time, okay?”

He pouted, “You’re mean.”

“Maybe, but I think you’re into it.” You ran a finger up his hard cock. Four orgasms in and he was still going strong, that had to be porn logic at play. Itachi didn’t respond to your hypothesis, which you took to mean that you were right.

Regardless, now was the moment that you’d been waiting so patiently for: you were going to fuck Itachi. Properly. You quickly shed your underwear and allowed your cock to spring up, rock hard and ready for action.

All that build up, from the very first time you met him and his beautiful nipples you’d been imagining what it’d be like. And now, as he looked at you, wide eyed and waiting, you knew that it would be perfect, for both of you, there was no other option. You just had to choose the right position.

You debated briefly going behind him and slipping inside from there. It would make the most practical sense considering the way he was tied up, but something about it didn’t feel right. Itachi deserved something a little more romantic for his first time and you wanted to be able to see his reactions.

Yes, from the front felt right, but with the way he was tied, you’d have to do something a little unconventional.

Standing in front of him, you tenderly stroked his hips, one hand on each side.

“Is everything oka— Ah!”

Itachi yelped as you suddenly hooked your hands under his knees and lifted him off the ground, taking half of his weight in your arms and leaving the other half for the metal bar to hold. As carefully as you could, you shifted your hands from the back of his knees to his butt and dragged him closer until his legs were splayed around your hips.

There. This was the perfect position. You could see his reaction, you had a good angle to fuck him, and most importantly, his nipples were perfect height to kiss, which had recently become a favourite hobby of yours.

“Are you ready?” you asked, rubbing your cock against him to cover it in his slick. He was open and ready for you, you’d made sure of that, but extra lubrication never hurt.

Itachi took a fortifying breath, “I’m ready.”

“Relax.” You grinned at him before delicately slipping the head of your dick into him. Itachi gasped, his muscles clenching immediately and clamping down on you like a vice. You hissed at the warmth and tightness but remained as still as possible to give him time to adjust.

A drop of Itachi’s slick dribbled down your cock and severely tested your resolve to remain still, but you persevered.

“Does it feel alright?” you asked in a strained voice.

“It’s much bigger than your fingers.” He leant forward and looked down at the place where you were both now joined. He gulped at how much there was still left to fit inside him. “Are you sure it’s going to fit?”

“Are you in pain right now?” He shook his head. “Then it should fit just fine.”

“I trust you, it’s just… it’s so big.”

“As you’ve said, many, many times,” you teased. “What is it with you and my dick?”

“I’m ready for you to go in a bit more,” he said, pointedly ignoring your question. He could ignore it all he wanted, but you knew he was obsessed with it, and that would fuel your ego and wet dreams for the rest of your life.

You decided you were too horny to press the issue though, because this omega was telling you he wanted you inside him, and you weren’t going say no.

Balancing his weight on one hand, you used the other to rub at his sensitive dick as a distraction. Once Itachi’s eyes fell closed at the sensation, you pushed in another few inches until you were about half way inside.

His gooey walls felt like heaven, and you were stopping both for his benefit, and your own, because cumming before you’d made him squirt would be unfortunate.

“You’re beautiful, so stunning, so perfect, the best omega,” you muttered, trying to distract yourself. You leant down and licked at his right nipple as the urge to taste him again surged.

Bending down to reach said nipple had the inadvertent effect of angling your cock directly into Itachi’s prostate. He jolted, mouth dropping open.

“There, hit there again.” His voice was as urgent as the throbbing dick in between his legs. “There, right there, please!”

You did as he asked, angling your hips again. Itachi shuddered, his arousal pushing out his earlier embarrassment, just as it had on the build up to his other orgasms.

“Put the rest in, I want it in!”

“Are you sure? We should move slowly to make sure—”

“No!” Even Itachi looked shocked at how loudly he had protested the idea of fucking him slowly. “I mean, I can take it, I promise, just put it in.”

You raised an eyebrow, but when Itachi refused to waiver, you decided just to go for it. Internal tears were not sexy, so porn logic would probably protect him.

You pulled on his hips and pushed forward with yours, sliding effortlessly into the wet heat that was more than ready to welcome you.

“It’s so big! It’s stretching me out!” Itachi babbled, head falling back. “Oh my god, I can feel it, it’s inside me.”

You almost laughed; you had never met an omega that was so easy to make cock drunk. You had even heard him talking about your dick in his sleep last night. He was so perfect.

“You love my cock, don’t you baby?” Itachi nodded furiously, drooling a little. Finally, your hips hit flush against his cheeks. “There you go, baby, is that what you wanted?”

Itachi whined, still nodding. “I need it, don’t take it away.”

“I won’t, darling,” you said, cock throbbing at his words. You glanced down and what you saw almost forced your cum from you immediately. He had a tummy bulge. You could see the outline of your cock in his tummy. You felt your instincts clawing at your mind in delight, a slight tinge of something distinctly feral lining your scent. “Open your eyes, omega, I want to show you something.”

Itachi did as he was told, his heavily lidded eyes meeting yours. Several strands of hair had somehow escaped from his ponytail again and were stuck with sweat to his face. He had never looked prettier.

“Look at your tummy, darling.” Itachi’s brows furrowed, but he did as asked. He stared for a moment as though he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. To help him, you pulled out completely, only to immediately plunge back in. Itachi’s stomach flattened out and then bulged as you moved.

Itachi’s eyes snapped fully open. He jumped to look up at your face, wide eyed and shocked into silence.

“That’s my cock inside you, I’m carving out a place, so that no other cock will ever be able to satisfy you like mine. Your hole is going to ache for me now, it’s going to miss me when I’m gone, I’m making sure of it.”

Itachi was staring at the bulge like he didn’t know how to process what was happening.

“It’s a good job we live in the middle of nowhere, because I’m going to need to feed your slutty hole my cock all the time to keep it satisfied.”

All at once, Itachi’s eyes bled red like that day in town, he seized up, and his cock shot cum all over his tummy bulge. You watched, obsessed, as Itachi started to cum from your dirty talk. The bliss that overtook him was so powerful that you were worried he would tug the metal bar out of the ceiling as he spasmed and moaned. You almost forgot that you were here to make him squirt.

Almost.

Recognising that this needed to end soon because Itachi had to squirt and you couldn’t hold in your own orgasm for much longer, you grabbed his hips and set a brutal pace, fucking in and out of him with abandon.

Itachi’s moans became moaned screams as you pounded him through his orgasm, elongating it and then quickly sending him hurtling towards another one.

The position you were in was aiding your pace, as you were able to move Itachi up and down by his hips, dragging his entire weight down onto your cock, using him almost like a fleshlight.

You had never felt more single minded. You were chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, and the only rational brain cells you had left online were fully focused on making sure you didn’t accidentally give Itachi a mating mark.

Itachi’s moan was now one long syllable, broken only by voice cracks that plagued him on every other thrust. Itachi’s walls were massaging you perfectly, flexing and fluttering in an almost wave-like motion that Itachi was definitely not capable of performing consciously; it must have been an inherent erotica trait.  

You had to fuck him, you had to make him squirt, you had to cum inside him.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” Itachi babbled, tears slowly running down his face.

“’m going to cum, omega, I’m going to cum inside you, I’m so close.”

“Don’t stop,” he sobbed, pulling fruitlessly at his restraints. “Alpha, don’t stop, I think I’m going to cum. It’s so hot!”

Your knot was starting to swell, and much to your displeasure, you knew you couldn’t knot him if you wanted to properly collect his slick. You had just enough restraint left to jerk away as your knot started to catch on his tie.

Itachi thrashed as you held him over the bucket. He pulled at the scarf and kicked out with his legs. His eyes flashed red under his eyelids. Clear liquid shot out of him with force, and the sound of his ejaculate splattering in the bucket filled the room.

There was no way you’d have been able to hold back your own orgasm at such a sight, and so you followed suit, cumming a load all over Itachi’s newly softening dick, until it was completely covered, and some was dripping steadily to join his slick in the bucket.

You both fell silent in the aftermath, panting heavily. The crackle of the fire suddenly sounded louder than you had realised, and your limbs felt like they were made of lead.

You had never felt anything so intense.

‘James?’ Even your mental voice sounded tired.

‘Yes, human alpha?’

‘Picking erotica was the best choice ever.’

‘I’m glad you are satisfied.’

A laugh bubbled its way up. Satisfied indeed.

…

“It’s done,” Itachi said, stirring the newly shining gold potion. “It took a day longer than expected, but the potion is perfect.”

You peered into the cauldron, “Do I have to drink some of it?”

“No, several of the ingredients are very toxic, so please don’t drink it. I will use the potion to paint some runes on your face, which should trigger the process of retrieving your memories.” He grabbed a little paintbrush and nervously ran his fingers over the bristles. You had done your very best to convince Itachi that you weren’t going to abandon him as soon as you got your memories back, at least, not in the way he was thinking, but it was obvious that he was still deeply apprehensive.

You sat down in front of Itachi and closed your eyes, letting him paint the runes. You were weirdly nervous even though you knew the potion wasn’t going to have any effect at all. Mentally, you ran through the backstory you had crafted. MLHH, you repeated, Money, Love, Health, Happiness.

You startled as the first brush strokes hit your skin. “It tickles.”

“Sorry,” Itachi said, not sounding very sorry. His voice was tense, but you didn’t hold it against him.

It was a strange feeling, after spending over two weeks with him, knowing that you were leaving him behind, at least for the moment. It was a cocktail of emotions. You were sad to leave Itachi, excited to see the next pocket dimension, guilty about being excited… It was a lot.

You comforted yourself by reminding yourself that you could return if you wanted to. No one would force you to leave Itachi for good, that was entirely your decision. You didn’t have to leave him if you didn’t want to.

“It’s done.” You opened your eyes and saw Itachi watching you nervously. Was he waiting for something to happen? Was something supposed to happen?

‘James, is something supposed to happen with this potion? To show that it worked?’

‘Of course.’

‘What?! What’s supposed to happen? Am I supposed to glow, scream, black out? Do I need to act? What do I do?!’

‘You’re supposed to regain your memories, human alpha, have you been paying attention?’

‘…’

You took that to mean that nothing spectacular was supposed to happen, and you just pretended to suddenly gain clarity with a gasp.

“I remember everything,” you said, acting like you were processing the returned memories. “It worked!”

“What do you remember?” Itachi was nervous, clutching the paint brush tightly to his chest.

“I was hiking in those woods, but I tripped and hit my head, that’s why you found me unconscious. I had intended to leave before nightfall, but I was knocked out and got caught in the snow. I was trying to kill time on my own, as my family are away on a business trip, they’re merchants you see, and my best friend is currently travelling for a wedding.”

“You’re from a merchant family? They must want you home soon.” Itachi sounded dejected, but like he was trying to be happy for you. His fake enthusiasm hurt your soul. Thankfully, you had come up with an explanation that would allow you to stay.

“Not really, you see, I never wanted to follow in their footsteps, I always wanted to carve my own path. My family love me, they just want me to be happy, and I know I’m happy here, with you. They’ll support me no matter what. They own a big house that we can stay in any time, but here is where my heart is.”

“And you’re single?” Itachi asked, desperate hope in his voice.

“Completely and utterly single. Although… I would be honoured if you would help me change that.”

Itachi’s face split into a big grin and he threw himself into your arms.

“You want to stay?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever,” he said firmly. He beamed at you with watery eyes and leant in for a kiss.

“Forever,” you repeated, but just as his lips were about to meet yours, your vision went blurry, and faded to black.

When our eyes refocused a half second later, you found yourself back in the library, staring at James, the ghost of a kiss on your lips. You were disorientated and already missing Itachi.

“Here, human.” James touched your head and your thoughts and emotions cleared. “Until you have the time to compartmentalise, it is more convenient if I supress conflicting emotions. It would be unfortunate if you could not give the next pocket dimension your full attention.”

“Yeah, it would be,” you agreed, already feeling lighter. As much as you loved your time there with Itachi, you were looking forward to the next book too. If anything, you were even more excited because you knew that no matter what happened, you had a life you wanted with Itachi. Even if you hated this next world, you could pull as many shenanigans as you wanted, knowing you had a safe world to return to.

“We do not have time to discuss anything here. Put your hand on the second book.” You did as she asked, watching as her hand joined yours. “Welcome to the world of ‘Fifty Shades of Audacity’.”

Next chapter

[themalhambird]

@malkaleh Sauron is happy, and possessive. It is not good.

(Finrod's arrival is swiftly followed by a series of other victories unfolding at Sauron's direction, and this culminates in a celebratory "family" meal)

CW for coercive behavoir, discussion of difficulties surrounding food, Eru Thingol's suppression of Quenya (and other aspects of Feonorian culture), implied rape

It is a quiet- even peaceful- morning. The early light is soft, but warming. Mairon did not come to any of them either last night or the night before. And the last few weeks in general have been...better. Mairon's visits less frequent, somehow, since Finrod's arrival. And Finrod- though it grieves all of them to have him here- Finrod himself is warm and reassuring as the star of high hope. For Galadriel in particular- when they are all in the shared living spaces together, she will abandon Celeborn with a kiss to his cheek, and climb on her brother, contented as a cat who has decided a particular person's lap is the only seat in existance.

So. The morning is a contented one, relatively speaking. Finrod is talking with Elrond, eager to continue to getting to know this sole unfamiliar fellow-prisoner. Galadrial is kneeling behind her brother, arms slung about his neck and chin on his shoulder and interjecting every so often with stories of Elrond as a "baby", which make Finrod laugh and Melian's child either poke out his tongue at her or pelt her with the berries he's snacking on, depending on how embarrassing he finds the story in question. Celebrimbor, whose spirit has is growing sharper with each of Mairon's lengthened absences, is talking Celeborn through dwarvish belt-weaving techniques at the same time as Celeborn is telling him of the dyers and weavers in Doriath- the skills and shades and techniques lost with Doriath- and both are somehow also keeping track of what Galadriel, Elrond, and Finrod are saying to each other because Finrod, apparently retaliating against his sister on Elrond's behalf, begins by saying "It's still not as bad as the time Galadriel came to visit me in Nargothrond and-" and Celeborn and Celebrimbor in unison and without looking up go: "No."

"Not in polite company," Celeborn adds.

"Not sober," Celebrimbor agrees.

"It wasn't that bad!" Galadriel protests, and now Celebrimbor looks up, fixing his kinswoman with a flat stare.

"Huan," he ennunciates, "Hound of Orme, Mauler of him, hid under my bed until you were gone."

A light kindles in Elrond's eyes, the shade of mischeivious grin spreading across his face, and Adar knows that the young one will not rest until he has every detail. It is a good morning.

And then Adar receives the message that Mairon expects his treasures to dine with him that evening. Adar is to serve, as usual.

***

The formal dinners are-

Mairon thinks it is a punishment for Adar to act as something between servant and steward- a reinforcement of the favour Adar has lost. In fact, it gives Adar an advantage- a measure of control which means for this one torment of his elvish children, Adar can make things easier to endure. He knows to switch between two different decanters: one pure wine, one cut with more water, and a juice to mantain the colour, than any actual alcohol. Elrond and Celeborn are both easier knowing that their minds will stay clear for whatever traps or pitfalls may occur over the meal. He knows that Galadriel prefers her plate piled high. if she is methodically working away at it, Mairon will be indulgent of short, even monosyllabic, answers to anything he has to say to her. On the other hand, these meals make Celebrimbor so anxious and upset that every mouthful has to be choked down. So Adar makes sure that there is at least one thing on the table that can be swallowed without much chewing- mashed roots, or fish that can flaked to almost nothing in ladlefulls of sauce. That, and as little of it as can stand without comment, lets the smith pick his way through the evening, and later Adar will bring him a proper plate and leave him be, knowing that Celebrimbor will eat as long as is not watched. And so it goes. Adar knows what will tempt his charges to eat, knows how to lavish his labour upon Mairon so that his mood is kept sweet. Can read the signs that means it is good time for his injured hand to cause him to drop something, so that Mairon's ire turns on him and not his children (not any of his children- even Sauron will not slay an uruk over a broken dish or spilled wine.)

But now there is Finrod. Adar does not know how Finrod fits into the pattern. He does not know what he needs to do for it to be better, and he does not know how Mairon will act, he -

He does his best to prepare, and they all do their best to prepare Finrod for what the summons means.

***

Mairon takes his place at the head of the table. Yes, the table is round- still, Mairon is at the head of it, for he sits at the top of the room, opposite the door, and his chair of elaboratley carved wood is only not a throne because he choses not to call it so. The surface the table is groaning with beautiful, luxurious dishes, as usual- and as usual Mairon pays them little attention. He is too busy admiring his treasures as they arrive to take their established seats.

Galadriel at his right, Elrond at his left. Celebrimbor next to Galadriel, Celeborn next to Elrond- after all if Galadriel and Celeborn were sat together, they would have no eyes for anyone but each other and it would rather defeat the purpose of a family meal together. This means that Finrod -how Mairon's heart sings at having Finrod now to join them-slots nicely in directly opposite Mairon's own place.

Fitting. Finrod was a king, after all, and Mairon can admit he had been a worthy opponent. Besides, it is the place that Adar might have had, were he not a traitor, and Mairon is pleased he must see it filled.

They wait, his treasures, as Adar pulls Galadriel's chair back for her, and when she sits the rest sits, and the meal begins.

***

It ends. Without incident, for even though Mairon had insisted on Celebrimbor trying this or that, Galadriel had simply moved it from her cousin's plate to her own whenever Mairon's gaze moved across to the other side of the table, and when Mairon had upset Elrond by beggining the subject of Court Feasts at Lindon Celebrimbor had saved Melian's child the trouble of replying by describing, in exacting detail, the process of creating silverware- which had, apparently, been the first items forged in Eregion, with a great deal of the work being done by Celebrimbor himself and the rest by other highly skilled craftsmen and the group would go on to become the start of something Celebrimbor called the Mirdain-i-Gwaith.

"I recall you made my kinsman a set of goblets," Celeborn says. "They were beautiful. Four, were there not?"

Celebrimbor nods. "One for King. One for Lady Melian. One for- their daughter, and her husband," he winces. "They weren't well received. Thingol took one from the box to examine it and found it well enough- then realised the meaning of the count, and promptly threw it at my head."

"I hope you ducked," Finrod says with a teasing smile. (Adar is amazed by how unphazed he appears to be by the whole wretched farce of a meal; he sits opposite the creature that killed him and smiles as brightly as ever). "Your goblets hurt when they hit people- I remember the one you lobbed at my chest."

"I did not "lob it at your chest," Celebrimbor says haughtily. "You walked into a smith's workshop unnannounced. The room was empty when I hurled it from me in frustration, it is none of my doing the room did not remain empty once it left my hand-"

And so it goes, Mairon too entranced at this performance of his treasures' pasts, tangled together as they are, before him to needle Melian's child about his careless high king. And the meal ends, without incident.

And then Mairon invites them to join him in his living chambers, adjoined to the dining room, which is not an invation but a command, and Adar is dismissed and Mairon adds: "Do not wait for the return of your charges before sleeping, they will not need their own beds tonight."

***

Galadriel thinks she might faint. Sauron hands her coffee made with his own hands and she sips it and it is nothing but charcol and bitterness. Sauron's living chambers. And beyond that, she knows, his bedchamber, and this is not a new situation but yet it is because- because-

"Fingon, my beloved," Sauron says a while later, as though as he a right to speak Galadriel's brother's name. "Do you dance as sweetly as your sister?"

Fingon's mask of political cheerfulness is strained, though Galadriel thinks she may be the only one who can tell. "We danced together often as children," he says, and Galadriel wants to scream, or to weep, as Sauron says,

"I would see you dance together now." His eyes glitter, greedy as a dragon's. Galadriel is going to see him dead- "All of you. My nightingale, Finrod, dances beautifully as well-"

"I am not suprised- his foremother Luthian did," Finrod says evenly, his gaze sharp on Sauron's face-

"Celebrimbor," Sauron says, turning away from Finrod and Galadriel as though the former had not spoken, to where Celebrimbor sits. "My jewel, you dance, do you not?"

"No." Celebrimbor says. The room stills. In that single word, Galdriel hears, almost, the Lord of Eregion saying- you wlil not move me; the discussion is at an end. Continue and it is at your peril, not mine.

"All elves dance," Sauron cajoules, his own tone turning dangerous. "I know you, Tylepe- I know you undervalue your worth where you see less than perfection. A little misstep here or there will not make me think less of your grace, my dear one-"

"And I thank you, my lord, but it does not change the fact I have no dances for you," Celebrimbor's voice is clipped: angry and mournful and merely exhausted all at once. "The ones I learnt, were forbidden before the dawn of this age, and their steps are now beyond my recalling; I learnt no new ones at Nargothrond or at Doriath for Sindarian already had my tongue; I would not give it my feet. I have no dances," he repeats, "And if you would not hurt me, my lord, you will not ask me to learn- for there is no one now who can reteach what I was taught by the sons of Feonor."

For a moment, Sauron seems to simmer. And then, horribly gentle-

"My jewel. Sit upon my lap, then, dear one, and watch with me."

"I thank you, my lord," Celebrimbor murmers, and moves as he has been bid.

"I will give music," Sauron declares, wrapping his arms around Celebrimbor's waist. Without further command, he begins to Sing. And Galadriel cannot tell if her legs rise by her will, or by his.

[ya-boi-haru]

Random BTS Facts about "Infinitesimal":

• On Cedars table, the round blue spiral bottle is alcohol (Gin)

• The "hands with blood" rapid montage bit is done with Sherbs that are bleeding from their left eye (Among Us, Irl and MCCI)

• You don't see any of the Sherbs faces, not only for funky film shot, but because I simply didn't want to put on makeup again

• Downloading the Fable world killed my PC storage (I had to immediately delete it all)

• Half way through filming we took a break, Seb ended falling asleep so we tried to continue until he woke up

• Jen and Seb (the camera people) actually have gone to school/ done courses for filming, vs me (the director) who is self-taught

• It took 9 hours to film all the World Port shots

• I did Foley art on the paper rip and one of the glitch/static sounds

• ^^ out of everything in that cmv, that paper rip was the most finicky and tricky to do and the thing that took me the longest to get right

• Despite using extra sheets to cover the floor, some paint still got on it somehow (though you coudlnt see it) and my feet turned blue after filming. (The others did not?)

• The decay I cough up is icing sugar and black food colouring, which I mixed up in a measuring shot glass

• Seb and I couldn't look down during the first lot of 360/spin shots, so Jen layed on the floor and stuck her head through the bottom of the portals and said "cord" whenever I was about to step on one

• The ending shot was supposed to invlove the scene of Icarus cursing out Quixis during 'Unlocked', but due to film difficulties, we couldn't pull it off

• the shots of Quixis outside was the last bit off footage we needed - shot on a different weekend - and it took like, 20 minutes

• The Lagoon I use for the "Quond" is the same Lagoon/Quond in "Be Nice To Me"

• out of all the shots I'm not too fond of, my least favourite is the "worlds falling", cause I think the fitted sheets look silly (I was supposed to grab the top sheets, but I grabbed the wrong ones)

• The mortar and pestle in Cedars set, is actually my mother's, I borrowed and returned it and she had no idea. (until Seb later showed her the clip of me mentioning it)

• Potion Craft set is my favourite!!!

• Someone asked, how did I decide which clips to use for the Portals, short answer: it was random

• I actually have only really seen Fable. I try so hard to keep up with other SMPs and I just fail, so to get the shots of the other Sherbs, I had to base it off my little to no knowledge on them

• it took about 3 hours to set up and paint the World Port

• It took 7 hours to paint my new Quixis jacket

• Seb gave me the honour of tearing down the WorldPort, cause he says "you're the one who had to put it up". It started falling apart towards the end, so we were both pretty annoyed with it

• I have plenty of plastic and paint to do another World Port if I wanted to (though I'd like to see how else I can do it)

• You can tell my eyes were watering non stop from my sclears, cause (if you pause it in the right frame) you can see my face is shiny

• Fake blood was used for all "blood bits" except on the young Icarus bit, that was red face paint

• Seb is much taller than me, which is why Jen gets the role of "Body double"

• Jen is my childhood friend and Seb and I are cousins!

• The WorldPort was set up in my 'loungeroom' so we were really only allowed to rest/chill in our rooms

• I was going to film some tiktoks/smaller cmvs while the portal was up, but in the end, I just wanted it gone and I was severely cosplay hungover to do anything more

• This cmv would be the first cosplays I've done since Smash con 2024

I go more into some of these in my Deep Dive video, but hope you enjoyed the silly fun facts!

[zahri-melitor]

Why did Red Robin fail as an alias that Tim was transitioned into? Did it ‘fail’?

I don't have any special insight on this one, but I can give you a bunch of reasons that made it unpopular.

The main one however? It's heavily associated with n52 Tim, and people don't like n52 Tim.

(Heads up going in - I will be using cover dates for all of this, because working with cover dates over publication dates is simpler for me)

Tim used 'Red Robin' as a name between August 2009 and July 2018. This splits up as follows with the major titles he was appearing in:-

2 years, 3 months (August 2009 - October 2011) in Batman Reborn pre-Flashpoint as Red Robin (Red Robin vol 1):

5 years, 1 month (November 2011 - November 2016) in n52 as Red Robin (Teen Titans vol 4 & 5, Batman Eternal, Batman & Robin Eternal):

2 years (August 2016 - July 2018) in Rebirth as Red Robin (Detective Comics):

I wanted to put the photos up to help clarify the differences between each of these versions.

Yes, there's overlap between the last two, because Teen Titans vol 5 finished several months after the start of Tynion's Detective Comics run. The two characters are essentially separate - switching over to Rebirth was a messy process that took several months depending on the title

The majority of appearances of 'Red Robin' as a character are of n52 'Tim Drake', who doesn't have the same backstory, parents or history as Robin as the characters either side of him. He's the one that most long term fans of the character would rather not talk about or think about.

Tynion's Detective Comics run between 2016 to 2018 was about taking the characters therein back to their pre-Flashpoint characterisation, as much as possible. And you can tell from the costume, Tim was 'Red Robin' in name only. He was wearing a Robin costume that simply happened to have an extra R on the crest. He looked like a Robin, acted like a Robin, was doing Robinlike work for Batman, and when Young Justice 2019 started he got a costume update that dropped the extra R from the top and he's been using Robin again ever since (less the attempt at using 'Drake' as a code name in 2020).

So why did it fail? Here's a bunch of reasons:

People don't like the cowl design on Tim: even Marcus To, the artist best associated with Tim as Red Robin before Flashpoint, perpetually draws Tim with the cowl down and often with part of the costume off for commissions and artwork.

People don't like the new 52 version of Tim.

Red Robin was a costume that Tim put on back in 2009 as a punishment to himself while was was doing 'unRobinlike' things looking for Bruce, and once that circumstance was over, there wasn't that much time during Reborn to really cement it as Tim's adult persona due to the universe getting cut off and rebooted.

New 52 Tim was largely not associated with the rest of the Bats for various editorial reasons, making him an outsider that's unusual compared to the rest of his characterisation since 1989.

To show the difference for Tynion's 'Tec run and convince all the fans that new 52 Tim was gone, they decided to make a very clear visual distinction between the characters. That visual distinction essentially was making Tim into a Robin again.

If you're looking at character storyline for Tim Drake, son of Jack and Janet, the story arc effectively goes: Batman Reborn, Convergence, Detective Comics, Young Justice 2019. Which is a story of Tim transferring himself back OUT of the Red Robin costume as he healed and no longer needed it as a temporary measure, and regaining his memories and history.

I mean, why would DC want to use Red Robin for Tim? It's got the difficulty that Jason has taken over effective ownership of the colour red for identification in the family purposes. It's associated with times of grief in Tim's life (because Tim explicitly wears red for loss: for Kon and for Bruce) and with storylines they've excised from his history. It's explicitly a form of self-flagellation.

It could have been Tim's Nightwing, but it's effectively ended up Tim's Grayson period. Something that happened and is referenced, but there are good reasons not to return to.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Amilcare, Ekaterini, and Souma

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, divorce, crime, drug addiction, kidnapping, sexual harassment, and homelessness.

Amilcare

Real name: Amilcare Buonarroti V

Nickname: Amil

Occupation: Peacekeeping troop and an aerospace engineering officer for the Regular Army and R-Shobu Ver. P.M. pilot and sniper for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)

Retirement plans: To become an avionics technician

Hobbies: Watching historical aviation documentaries during lonely nights, engaging in aperitivo and passeggiata with good friends, and collecting vintage beer

Likes: Cockfighting, the trulli of Alberobello, and shamelessly flirting with men and women while socialising at a bar

Dislikes: People who prioritise superficial relationships, not being able to cleanly eliminate enemies, and getting distracted while working on a complex aircraft model

Favourite drink: Blueberry Italian soda

Sexuality: Sex-indifferent, demiromantic bisexual

Gender: Male

Age: 28 (in 2022), 34 (in 2028), 36 (in 2030), 38 (in 2032), 40 (in 2034), 47 (in 2041), 49 (in 2043), 50 (in 2044), and 53 (in 2047)

Design: He’s a 5’ 9” (175.26 cm) Italian mesomorph with rigid muscles and a subtly rounded abdomen. He wears the Ptolemaic Army sniper uniform, but with a distinctive right-side sky magenta armband featuring the Regular Army insignia. He wears a medium-sleeved indigo shirt and a red-violet belt with a bronze snap-on buckle.

He has almond-coloured skin, green-grey eyes with flecks of yellow, golden brown hair styled in a wavy Ivy League haircut, heavily scarred arms, and a bullet graze mark on his left cheek.

He’s in possession of a R-Shobu Ver. P.M., and carries inspection gauges, precision measurement devices, and aircraft mechanic tools in his load-bearing backpack.

Character summary: He appears to be extremely haughty, but beneath this façade lies a highly emotionally intelligent individual. He utilises his arrogance as a mechanism to repel people he deems "undesirable". However, when interacting with friends, trusted comrades, and superiors, he swiftly drops the high and mighty demeanour, revealing a respectful, kind-hearted, and humble personality. When irritated by the antics of Harvie, Souma, Juozapas, and Priyanka or when something goes terribly wrong, he tends to lose his temper, lashing out aggressively and arguing with anyone who attempts to calm him down. He hates dwelling on guilt and grudges because it only makes him feel hopelessly miserable.

He's quite hard to impress and very critical about everything, stemming from his persistent worries and difficulty finding the silver lining. He's a militaristic and promiscuous perfectionist who tries his best to effortlessly snipe enemies, and often resorts to negative self-talk when he fails to get a clean shot. He's extremely attentive, consistently ensuring his allies' safety and readiness for combat. He doesn’t like to talk about his life because he’s a very private person, thinks it's pretty boring, and dislikes others prying into his affairs. When deciding to trust people, he often makes verbal vows with them to ensure they won’t betray him easily or they’ll face his righteous wrath. He’s good friends with Mikuláš, Thandolwethu, Ekaterini, Zdravko, and Dezső.

Backstory: Amilcare Buonarroti V was born on February 21, 1994 in Alberobello, Italy. He doesn't talk about his life all that much, but he has shared some things about himself. He hailed from a long line of skilled craftsmen renowned for their meticulous restoration work on Alberobello's iconic trulli, which had been devastated during the Thule Expeditionary Conquest. This conflict began when Portugal launched a surprise attack on the Germi family and the Regular Army in Italy. His family's history was also marked by a tradition of Alberobellesi survivalists and affluent business contractors who remained in Italy despite the Italian diaspora. Throughout the period of Fascist Italy, they maintained a secretive lifestyle that defied the regime's fascist ideology.

His grandfather, Amilcare Buonarroti IV, was a master stonemason and owner of a housing construction business. His father, Eliodoro Buonarroti, worked in metalwork and Renaissance art restoration. His mother, Silvestra, was a meat butcher who had formerly served as a military communications specialist in the Regular Army. Both his grandfather and father were perfectionists, viewing imperfection and failure as inexcusable sources of guilt that could form long-held grudges. This mindset would greatly influence his own perfectionistic tendencies.

Ever since he was a young child, he demonstrated an uncanny ability to focus on detailed tasks. For hours, he would assemble complex model aircraft while other kids played games like strega comanda colore and football in the streets. His mother, Silvestra, nurtured his growing interest in aviation, teaching him about radio systems and flight mechanics. His father, Eliodoro, taught him the basics of metalwork and would often watch Italian sports with him on television, especially during special occasions. In contrast, his grandfather showed little personal interest in him, whom he affectionately called Amil, viewing him solely as a perfect successor to the Buonarroti family legacy with clear ambitions.

His household valued privacy and maintained a dignified distance from Alberobello's tourist-heavy social scene, disregarding direct involvement with outsiders. His parents instilled in him the importance of earning respect through competence and integrity, rather than seeking validation through social status. Although his grandfather was largely absent, he would occasionally impart wisdom on survival and wealth accumulation during rare visits.

At 12, his parents' marriage dissolved due to opposing philosophical differences, dividing his life between his father's meticulous craftsmanship and artistic passion, and his mother's strict military background. It was compounded by his parents' struggle to understand him. Silvestra perceived his emotional intelligence as a weakness, while Eliodoro worried about his growing detachment. Following the divorce, he was placed in his mother's custody. She ensured that his father and grandfather were no longer part of his life, a decision that personally saddened him because he had been particularly close to his father. Although his mother was a protective and caring person, she often treated him more like a resilient, tough-as-nails soldier than a vulnerable individual.

During his young adult years, he distanced himself from his mother after completing a mechanics apprenticeship. This newfound independence led him to work for a Mafia organisation that required a discreet hitman to eliminate traitors. Having learned marksmanship from his mother during occasional hunting trips, he proved to be a valuable asset to the Mafia. He also explored romance, engaging in several relationships, but most were short-lived, casual flings. He had brief involvement with a female undercover cop, whom he killed to prevent Mafia exposure, and a caporegime struggling with a cocaine addiction. Shortly after the Arms Deal Barrage, the Ptolemaic Army, eager to expand its resources and ranks, forcefully assimilated the Mafia into its paramilitary forces.

Due to his background as a hitman and knowledge of aviation, he underwent rapid training as a sniper and pilot for one of their oldest aircraft models, the R-Shobu Ver. P.M. To avoid arousing suspicion of being a false believer, he adopted a haughty demeanour and pretended to be fully confident in their beliefs. He also engaged in sexual affairs with both male and female members, presenting this as a way to contribute to the growth of their military force and morale. He was one of the most respected members of the Ptolemaic Army's paramilitary forces, renowned for his militarism and avionics expertise.

However, his loyalty to the Ptolemaic Army was short-lived. Upon learning of a potential uprising, he swiftly defected and became one of the first to join Eri's ill-fated revolt, relieved to escape the Ptolemaic Army's repugnant ideology. Later, he enlisted in the Regular Army, where he distinguished himself as a dependable aerospace engineering officer.

Ekaterini

Real name: Ekaterini Papacharalambous

Nickname: Kateri

Occupation: Peacekeeping troop for the Regular Army and a sniper for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)

Retirement plans: To become a war historian

Hobbies: Going on evening coastal walks, collecting ancient texts and historical records sold at bookstores and pawn shops, and writing autobiographies about the people she cares about

Likes: The lanes full of flowers in Kokkari, participating in the celebrations of Apokries and May Day, and the serenity of fishing harbours and weathered landscapes

Dislikes: Financial grievances, erasure of history, and people who are dogmatic thinkers and close-minded thieves

Favourite food: Savory spinach pie with horiatiki salad

Sexuality: Aromantic pansexual

Gender: Female

Age: 18 (in 2022), 24 (in 2028), 26 (in 2030), 28 (in 2032), 30 (in 2034), 37 (in 2041), 39 (in 2043), 40 (in 2044), and 43 (in 2047)

Design: She’s a 5’ 8” (172.72 cm) Greek endomorph of British descent with sloping shoulders, a somewhat heavier build, and curvy legs. She wears the Ptolemaic Army sniper uniform, but with a distinctive left-side caput mortuum armband featuring the Regular Army insignia. She wears a rosy brown T-shirt and Russian violet paratrooper boots with iridescent purple laces. 

She has sun-kissed olive skin, cocoa eyes, and straight wine red hair with a choppy fringe bang, which is often tied into low pigtails that reach just above her elbows. A deep, scarred gash in the centre of her left forearm is hidden by worn, dirty gauze.

Character summary: She's a hard-boiled and self-sacrificing individual with a compassionate, tender, and joyful side that she reserves for those she trusts, admires, and considers family. Although sometimes misanthropic, she offers insightful and constructive feedback, driven by a desire to uplift others and help them become better people. She’s incredibly malicious towards enemies and traitors, believing they forfeit any right to kindness and mercy. She's assertive, fearlessly standing up for herself and others when necessary, and boldly speaking the truth, even when it's difficult to hear. She has a deep appreciation for human history, which attempts to capture the complexities of human civilization, including lesser-known details.

She possesses unwavering determination and a strong will, driving her to pursue her desires despite contrary advice. While cautious in new situations due to her view of life's unpredictability, she attempts to anticipate outcomes through logical analysis and reasoning. She has a fierce fighting spirit and is a firm believer in individual freedom as long as one's actions don't harm the integrity and safety of others. Whenever she feels her inner peace is off balance, she seeks temporary solitude in nature, where she daydreams and takes leisurely, safe strolls. She’s good friends with Gyeong-Hui, Thandolwethu, Amilcare, and Juozapas.

Backstory: Ekaterini Papacharalambous was born on September 18, 2004 in Kokkari, Samos, Greece. She’s the descendant of EAM-ELAS resistance fighters who survived the harsh winter following the arrival of Italy's 6th Infantry Division "Cuneo" on Samos in 1941, which led to the island's occupation. Additionally, she has a few British ancestors who served in the Allied forces during WWII. These ancestors were aided by the resistance fighters in escaping to cross into Türkiye and later reciprocated by distributing food to the locals on Samos and helping prepare their defences. Her father, Stylianos Papacharalambous, is a fifth-generation fisherman, while her mother, Rue, is a local school teacher specialising in ancient history and social justice. Rue suffered a miscarriage due to complications from bacterial vaginosis, which resulted in the loss of her twin sister. Her maternal great-grandfather, Myron, was a British-Greek veteran who fought alongside the Greek government army during the Greek Civil War.

While Myron was still alive, he would frequently look after her when her parents were at work. During their evenings together, he would tell her stories of sacrifice, betrayal, and the stark line between ally and enemy, sharing with her the experiences of their ancestors. Shortly after her 6th birthday, Myron passed away due to natural causes, leaving a profound impact on her. Following his heartbreaking passing, Ekaterini often sought solitude at the pebble beach. Her paternal aunt, Nektaria Papacharalambous, would take on the role as her babysitter, having recently relocated to Kokkari for work in boat maintenance. Her aunt would tell her stories about their fisher ancestors, sharing tales of their everyday lives at sea, which focused on the routines of fishing and survival, daring expeditions, and discoveries of new marine life.

At the age of 13, during a secret night walk, she stumbled upon a trusted family friend and business partner to the Papacharalambous family stealing her father's fishing boat. The theft was a devastating blow as the boat was the family's primary source of income. As a result, they were forced to navigate a harsh winter with severely limited financial resources. Although some neighbours offered food and work opportunities, Stylianos often declined their charity, feeling responsible for the loss and determined not to burden others. Meanwhile, other opportunistic individuals attempted to exploit the family's vulnerability, offering loans with exorbitant interest rates or trying to purchase their home at a fraction of its value. However, Ekaterini's parents remained resilient and saw through these exploitative tactics. To make ends meet, her father worked as a deckhand on other boats, her mother picked up extra teaching shifts, and her aunt took on various odd jobs.

At 17, she felt stifled by Kokkari's limited job opportunities and her family's ongoing financial struggles. One night, during another secret stroll, she met a group of local teenagers who shared her desire for something more. Together, they would sneak away to the green mountains while their caregivers worked and they finished their schoolwork. There, they taught themselves survival skills and marksmanship, using old hunting rifles borrowed from relatives. This group became the first people she trusted since her family's betrayal, but their carefree days were short-lived. While hanging out at Ekaterini's favourite spot, they were ambushed by men wearing black masks and taken to a remote Aegean forest far from their village.

After enduring hours of ruthless indoctrination and witnessing the brutal deaths of her friends Dimos, Filippa, and Klio, who were mutilated for resisting, Ekaterini and her six remaining friends—Louiza, Pavlos, Spiro, Zinon, Yiannis, and Emilios—were thrust into the Ptolemaic Army's paramilitary training program. Leveraging her experience with firearms and hunting, she was trained as a sniper alongside her friends, fighting together and spending time as a group. Although she avoided being forced into breeding programs for new cultists and soldiers, she occasionally faced sexual harassment.

She eventually joined Eri's rebellion, driven by a desire to reunite with her family and outraged by the murder of a friend at the hands of a masked soldier. The friend had been killed simply for politely asking for extra rations. She received a deep gash scar when a guerrilla attempted to murder her, but she utilised her self-defence skills to overpower him and escape. Although the Phantom Strike brutally slaughtered her remaining friends during Eri's revolt, Ekaterini found solace in her new team, whom she came to regard as a surrogate family. She was later reunited with her biological family and discovered a new passion for documenting her life experiences. She also developed a keen interest in studying war history and the art of warfare.

Souma

Real name: Souma Kuroiwa

Occupation: Peacekeeping troop for the Regular Army and a sniper for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)

Retirement plans: To become a circus acrobat

Hobbies: Making traditional Japanese street foods for his comrades to enjoy, watching the performances put on by the Heaven Artists, and kyūdō

Likes: Tasty desserts, the smoothness of black pebbles, and how funny and odd clowns are

Dislikes: Unfair death, visiting local parks at night, and people mocking his terrible handwriting and short attention span

Favourite food: Chorizo tako sausage

Favourite drink: Ramune (preferably yuzu)

Sexuality: Aromantic asexual

Gender: Male

Age: 16 (in 2022), 22 (in 2028), 24 (in 2030), 26 (in 2032), 28 (in 2034), 35 (in 2041), 37 (in 2043), 38 (in 2044), and 41 (in 2047)

Design: He’s a slender yet muscular 5’ 11” (180.34 cm) Japanese mesomorph who wears the Ptolemaic Army sniper uniform, but with a distinctive right-side harvest gold armband featuring the Regular Army insignia. He wears an eggplant-hued T-shirt with ripped sleeves, a copper-buckled black bean belt, and spike-soled butterscotch paratrooper boots.

He has pale ivory skin, light grey eyes, a brownish mole under his right eye, a coarse black buzz cut dyed a caramel brown colour, and a metallic blue snake bite piercing.

Character summary: He's an assertive and honourable Shinto worshipper who respects others' boundaries and interests, even when he finds them unappealing. He has a mischievous streak and enjoys playing harmless pranks, primarily to observe their reactions and ease the tension of some situations. He has a habit of encouraging others to take risks that might not be in their best interest, often leading to trouble. In contrast to Harvie, Juozapas, and Priyanka, who readily accept defeat and acknowledge their mistakes, he’s a rebel at heart, which often puts him at odds with Thandolwethu. While he's fairly superstitious, he's not rigid in his beliefs and will occasionally disregard certain Japanese superstitions if he finds them too implausible.

He's often impatient, preferring to get things done quickly, but he can adapt and take a more patient approach when he realises that rushing isn't an option. He has a strong desire to stand out from the crowd and be liked by everyone, which can lead him to seek attention and affirmation. He struggles with emotional awareness, often failing to pick up on subtle cues and implications, and typically requires direct and explicit communication to understand others' feelings and needs. He struggles with the personal implications of being neurodivergent, which causes him distress, largely due to the stigma and societal biases that neurodivergent individuals often face. He’s good friends with Harvie, Juozapas, and Priyanka.

Backstory: Souma Kuroiwa was born on June 23, 2006 in Ueno, Tokyo, Japan. His father, Osamu Kuroiwa, was a third-generation vendor specialising in takoyaki, mochi, and dango. His mother was a food advertising agent, formerly a circus acrobat who performed acrobatic tricks on the streets of Ueno. From the day he was born, his father expected him to be the successful heir to the Kuroiwa family's two-decade-old vendor business. His parents were devout and superstitious Shinto believers, who, due to a lack of personal interest, didn't concern themselves with other religions, yet remained respectful of them. He frequently accompanied his parents to the Ueno Tōshō-gū to pay respects to nature and the Shinto deities as they sought to maintain their faith and avoid bad omens.

He spent his early years in the family's small apartment above their popular food stand, where the constant stream of tourists and locals fueled his desire for attention. Helping his father with food preparation and collecting payments was a regular part of his routine. He was also encouraged to get creative, adding his own twists to each batch, and took great delight in customers' reactions. In their small living room, his mother taught him tumbling, using rolled-up futons as makeshift crash mats. She also often took him to watch the Heaven Artists and various street musicians perform on the streets of Ueno. When he was 9, a faulty firework crashed into his parents' stand, accidentally setting it ablaze. Rather than rebuilding, they seized the opportunity to transform their business into a mobile food truck, using the money they had worked tirelessly to earn.

His parents were loving, kind, and supportive, but also very strict when it came to his education and their superstitions. They had high expectations, always demanding the best from him because they wanted to ensure his future success. Additionally, they diligently enforced their superstitions, regularly checking to make sure he was following them perfectly, fearing that any mistake might invite bad omens. This pressure was particularly challenging for him as he struggled with the expectation of being flawless and obedient to beliefs he sometimes found hard to accept. Compounding these difficulties were his dysgraphia and inattentive ADHD, which made writing, staying focused, and maintaining organisation feel like a bothersome chore.

He was frequently bullied at school due to his struggles with spelling and handwriting, as well as his inattentiveness. His parents attempted to assist him with his homework and assignments whenever their busy schedules allowed. However, they struggled to understand his neurodiversity because he would become visibly distressed whenever they gently suggested that something might be amiss. At 12, frustration with the world and the expectations placed upon him drove him to rebel, becoming fiercely assertive and running away from home.

During his time away from home, he experienced homelessness, often sleeping in parks and resorting to petty crimes like pickpocketing and shoplifting to survive. He was also involved in a few nighttime altercations with would-be assailants, but his agility and acrobatic skills allowed him to easily evade harm. During the midnight hours, when he was struggling to fall asleep, he decided to take a stroll to clear his mind. As he walked, he spotted a figure wearing a white mask with red glowing eyes in an alleyway. Acting on impulse, he approached the figure, and instead of facing a negative outcome, they surprisingly welcomed him. The figure then used subtle psychological manipulation to convince him to join the Ptolemaic Army. 

Desiring a new purpose in life, he felt drawn to the idea and accepted the invitation. He was promptly taken to a Ptolemaic Army base located in a remote forest near Tokyo. He was selected to be trained as a sniper due to his stealth skills and ability to evade incoming attacks with ease. Despite struggling with inattentiveness, he managed to become a relatively successful sniper as the role motivated him to improve his focus and stay on track. However, the thrill he experienced during intense missions began to make him impatient, which would often frustrate the commander he was assigned to work with.

As a rebellion brewed within the Ptolemaic Army, he grew increasingly anxious about his parents. He realised how deeply he missed them and how caring they were, a stark contrast to his comrades, who were dismissive and crude towards him. Desperate for a way to contact his family, he turned to the masked soldier who had initially recruited him into the Ptolemaic Army. He knew that the cult was the only means for those in the paramilitary forces to have direct access to the outside world. However, the figure laughed, revealing that his parents had been executed when they got too close to uncovering the truth about their son's disappearance.

This moment of truth made him realise the Ptolemaic Army's cruelty and manipulative nature, sparking his desire for righteous change. He joined Eri's rebellion, hoping to avenge his parents and form genuine connections with people who saw him as a human being. After the short-lived revolt, he marked his transformation by getting a haircut, dyeing his hair, and getting snake bite piercings. To him, it was a symbolic departure from his troubled past.

[almond-lebkuchen]

Happy Valentine's day folks!

I decided to post a quick fanfic for Faust, the reason I got dragged back into this fandom. I've been so busy, and hadn't been able to write creatively in a good long while so I was half afraid I wouldn't be able to write this at all. So I'm quite glad to have actually finished one of my WIPs for once, and on time too, even if I am very rusty.

A Chocolate Temptation

Summary

It's almost Valentine's day, and you are looking to get the perfect chocolates for Faust as a surprise gift. Unfortunately for you, he runs into you just as you get your gift. (I'm bad at summaries)

Content warnings: None, just fluff with a little spice at the end, (nothing explicit though), and some vampiric biting.

archiveofourown link here.

The smell of flowers and chocolate seemed to fill the morning air as eager townsfolk bought gifts of affection for their lovers. Pink and red hearts and chubby cherubs adorned shop windows, perfectly decorated to entice customers. People chattered happily with each other, all smiles and laughs over the excitement for the romantic holiday. 

All except you it seems. Your stomach churned, anxiety forming unpleasant knots inside you as you made your way towards the marketplace. Valentine’s day was tomorrow and despite your efforts, you still weren’t ready for it.

So far nothing had gone as planned. You had decided to borrow the mansion’s kitchen to surprise Faust with some homemade chocolates, but it seems like this week cursed you with baking disaster after baking disaster. First you mistakenly bought the wrong kind of chocolate powder, and they came out dry and very bitter. You tried to compensate by adding more sugar to your next batch but apparently you put in too much, as they came out disgustingly over-sweet. Plus the lack of access to a modern refrigerator or electric oven gave you a whole new set of difficulties to navigate as well. You either burned or under cooked them, and you were having trouble getting them to set properly. 

You let out a small groan, rubbing at your forehead. Already you could feel a headache forming just thinking of all the mistakes and wasted ingredients. Not to mention the late nights you spent cleaning up.

So here you were now, giving up and buying some from the store. Faust had mentioned that he was going out today, so you decided to take advantage of his absence and visit a rather popular confectionery that everyone was talking about. It wasn't the romantic personally crafted gift you had envisioned, but you were running out of time. Besides, you could see that Sebastian was starting to lose his patience after your last batch accidentally ended up on the floor thanks to a certain writer’s dog had started barking around your heels. 

The tantalizing aroma of rich cocoa filled your senses immediately as you walked in, the smell mouth watering. Your eyes wandered over to the display cases, where a variety of beautifully arrayed artisan chocolates of all shapes, colours and flavours were proudly showcased. You sighed in relief, as you had been half afraid they would already be sold out by other last minute buyers. You clearly came at a good time, especially since the shop wasn’t too busy either; only a few lingering customers that were finishing up their purchase.

You examined their products carefully in deliberation, while the shopkeeper happily gave you some recommendations. You weren’t entirely sure which would be best, so you eventually settled for a combination of different ones you thought Faust would enjoy the most. The shopkeeper wrapped them up in a decorative box and placed them in a lovely bag. You paid for them, and headed back to the castle, feeling a bit better than earlier. While you were still a little disappointed, maybe it was for the best. You couldn’t possibly measure up to something professionally made, and at the very least, perhaps he would appreciate being able to experiment with the different flavours. You struggled enough trying to get one right. 

You had almost reached the castle gates when you heard a voice call out your name. You cursed your luck, recognizing it immediately. Faust. 

Of all people to run into. Didn’t he say he was visiting the orphanage? Maybe I could pretend I didn’t hear him. I’m almost at the doors after all, I could make it if I hurry. 

Before you could plot your escape, Faust’s stern face popped into your view, giving you a mini heart attack. You quickly tried to hide the bag subtly behind your back and hoped he didn’t notice. 

“Faust! Sorry, I uh, didn’t expect to see you back yet. I thought you were going to see the children?” You tried to smile brightly at him as you tried to compose yourself. 

“I did. I finished up a little early, I only needed to drop off some medicine.” 

He gazed down at you, a small frown gracing his features as he crossed his arms in disapproval. “I don’t recall you notifying me that you were going out today.”

You laughed nervously, trying to act cool. “I just had some small errands I suddenly had to run, that's all.”

“Hmm, is that so? Is it related to whatever you have behind your back?”

“No, that’s nothing important!” 

You cringed slightly at the panicked edge in your voice and scrambled to come up with an excuse

“What I mean is, it’s just a little something I picked up from my errands…you don’t worry about it”

You groaned internally at how flimsy your excuse sounded. Great, super convincing.

He narrowed his eyes at your words, as he studied you suspiciously. Feeling guilty, you couldn’t help but look away as his stare burned into you, clutching the handle of the bag even tighter. 

“You’re hiding something.” He stepped closer, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little at his words.

You inched away from him, trying to put some space between you. “I’m not hiding anything, you’re just imagining things” you protested weakly. 

His frown deepened, and reached his hand out to pinch your cheek.

“Hey!”

He ignored your indignant exclamation, his fingers moving down to your chin to lift your face up back towards him.  

“I’m imagining things? You’ve been avoiding me lately, and disappearing without warning for hours on end without word of where you’ve been. I don’t like it when my guinea pig isn’t within my sight or not knowing where you are.”

You winced a little at his words. So much for your plan. You genuinely did feel a little bad about your evasive actions leaving him in the dark for the last week, even if they were for good reasons. 

He raised an eyebrow at your silence. 

“No answer? Hm, then shall I open up your chest and examine it like a guinea pig’s?”

Ugh, he’s so stubborn.

You couldn’t help but glare at him for messing up the surprise. You let out an irritated sigh, having no choice but to fess up since you knew he wouldn’t let this go so easily. 

You bitterly averted your eyes in frustration, your answer coming out more huffy than intended. “You really are the worst sometimes you know that? I was trying to surprise you by making some chocolates for you, but it was a total failure and I ended up getting some from a store.”

You grumpily removed the gift hidden behind your back. “I wasn’t sure what would suit you so I got you a variety to experiment with”

He blinked, caught off guard by your forceful reply before laughing, which only made you more annoyed. 

“Heheh, such an angry way to deliver such a romantic sentiment don’t you think?”

He looked down at you smugly as you pouted.

“I wanted this to go differently. It’s all your fault that it came out like this, it was supposed to be for tomorrow!”

He laughed again to your chagrin, but before you could argue further, he swept you off your feet and into his arms in one quick move. He chuckled at your startled cry as you scrambled to hold onto him without dropping the gift.  

“Ah, your efforts to surprise me are admirable, but I think my favorite sweet is right here. Besides…”

He buried his face against your neck, his breathy sighs against your skin sending a small shiver through your body. 

“I think we can celebrate a little early. As your lover, it’s only right that I give you a gift of my own.”

Grinning widely, he headed towards the castle and to the bedroom, where he set aside the chocolates on the nearby night table before kissing you again. He pushed you down on the bed, covering your body with his own.  

He yanked open your shirt, peppering kisses across your collarbone, gleeful at your embarrassed expression. Still, you didn’t fight him, and in the end you sighed, a mixture of defeat and happiness at his amorous affections. You wrapped your arms around him, a rush of pleasure running through your body as he leaned in and sank his teeth into your neck.

Maybe celebrating a little early isn’t too bad after all. 

~~~

You don’t know when you dozed off after being with Faust, but when you woke up, the sun was just starting to set, casting its soft yellow and orange hues through the windows. A pleasant floral scent enveloped the room, and you sat up, the smell piquing your curiosity. You glanced around, Faust nowhere in sight. Your eyes landed on a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers, meticulously arranged and tied off with a decorative lacy ribbon on the nightstand by the chocolates. A small red envelope addressed to you in Faust’s handwriting lay right next to it. Reaching over you, you gently opened it and read the contents. 

To my most precious lover,

Thank you for the chocolates, your efforts are appreciated. I do hope you aren’t still upset about earlier. I’ll admit, you still managed to surprise me in the end, and it pleases me to know you cared enough to get me something, even if you were unhappy with how it resulted. But know this: I’m interested in anything you make, whether you discount it as a failure or not.

Do you know what drives the heart to beat?

Truth be told, I could go on about how the heart rate is dictated by the electrical impulses of the sinoatrial node of the right atrium, but truth be told, none of these reasons hold a candle to you, the real driving force behind my still beating heart. 

And each beat belongs to you alone, my beloved Versuchkaninchen. 

But these mere words are not enough to truly capture how much I love you, nor completely convey my feelings for you. My need for you forever grows stronger with each passing day, and I won’t rest until I make sure that your heart is entirely in my grasp. I wanted to give you these flowers tomorrow, but considering the circumstances, I think it's only fair to give them to you now. I hope you will accept them, as a symbol of that promise.

You may blame me as you like, but you must take responsibility for capturing my heart and soul, and for that, I will never let you go.

Happy Valentine’s day,

Johann Georg Faust

[dasloddl]

Overcompensate

take excessive measures in attempting to correct or make amends for an error, weakness, or problem

Next Semester

a half-year term in a school or university, especially in North America, typically lasting for fifteen to eighteen weeks

Backslide

to go back to doing something bad when you have been doing something good, especially to stop working hard or to fail to do something that you had agreed to do

Midwest Indigo

an area in the US that includes Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, Nebraska, Missouri, and Kansas a bluish-purple colour

Routines In The Night

a sequence of actions regularly followed

Vignette

a brief evocative description, account, or episode a small illustration or portrait photograph which fades into its background without a definite border

The Craving (Jenna’s Version)

an intense, urgent, or abnormal desire or longing

Lavish

sumptuously rich, elaborate, or luxurious bestow something in generous or extravagant quantities on

Navigating

plan and direct the course of a ship, aircraft, or other form of transport, especially by using instruments or maps sail or travel over (a stretch of water or terrain), especially carefully or with difficulty

Snap Back

to quickly return to a previous condition a type of baseball cap

Oldies Station

someone or something, esp. a song, movie, or joke, that was popular long ago

At The Risk Of Feeling Dumb

stupid

Paladin Strait 

a person who fights for a cause as a knight fought for a king in the Middle Ages a narrow passage of water connecting two seas or two other large areas of water

[nahalism]

Hi xD I’m asking this because we’re from the same background (Nigerian, Yoruba I think) and I know we don’t have the same parents so that’s the common deviation, but how is your mum really accepting of the way you present yourself (I love it btw)? As in your tattoos and piercings. I really want to experience this modification journey with my body but my family are pretty conservative and made me take out my ear gauges.

heyyyyyyy — im so sorry for missing this <3. we areeee, im igbo, so welcome sis. let me tell you, it has not been easy. but ive been telling her id be modified since i was 5 y/o, started getting mods at 12, & used to be even more heavily into the modification community than i am now (suspension, scarification, tongue splitting etc) so all the points of contention were obvious and out in the open from young. it was hard, because for the longest time i felt a lot of push back and rejection just for being myself/being drawn to the communities and subcultures i was drawn to (bare in mind at the time those communities and subcultures didnt generally embrace people of colour so the rejection and sense of being misunderstood came from all angles). i also internalised the judgement of aunties and uncles that looked at me as weird or as an outcast to nigerian culture because of the expectations that they had and ideals they wanted to enforce on their own children. deeper than that, i wanted to protect my mum from their judgement of her as a 'bad parent raising a wayward child' because of my choices. having a well paid profession with mods was way harder back then too — so yeah. it was conflicting and an internal battle i fought for the longest. another difficulty also came from trying to assure people i wasnt interested in mods as a form of rebellion or 'self harm', but that i valued it as a form of self expression. eventually my mum got the message and grew to learn me, and because i was patient with her, and she was patient with me, (she let me get my ears pierced pre 16 then other mods with moderation till i was 18 and or had moved out & did my own thing) i chose to respect her and show that i would give serious consideration to any modification and its aftercare before getting it. & now im well past that & shes not shocked by anything i do anymore. so yh i do what i want but consider everything deeply first (personal choice, no judgement to people who get things without considering it much first).

i say all that to say.... that time tells all and character speaks louder than words. you cant let other peoples opinions and expectations shape who you decide to be or your ability to live in and express your truth. times change and over time what seems extreme now will be normal. dont miss out because of others and their fear. that goes for everything in life not just piercings and tattoos etc. — howeverrr!! family is important and taking the time to understand eachother (not just be understood) and measure peoples concerns against your own internal compass can lead to huge growth and personal development. when people know you have heard them out and genuinely considered their perspective, theyre much more receptive to letting you live life on your own terms and theres is a mutual respect that grows. not being able to alter my appearance in the way i wanted to for so long made me strengthen my own personhood and not rely on external markers to be a representative for who i am and what i believe. if i hadnt had waited or had acted on rebellion i wouldnt have learned that lesson. id have a bunch of shitty unconsidered tattoos with poor placement, poorly done piercings with severe repercussions, blown out ears. id prob have my ears pointed (which knowing what i know now could have gone sooo wrong due to keloiding). i wouldnt have learned that certain tattoo styles and methods work better for black skin (there was much less representation at the time) and theres honestly so much more. basically. take your time to learn and study so that if you make the choice to act against what is accepted, you can live by,it stand on it, and no one can turn around and say i told you so. i hope this helped or at least answered the question 😂😭. good luck <3

[paradoxicalpaldeann]

i wanna write a somewhat angsty sr zombie apocalypse fic where all of the sr members in the fic were essentially left behind when the zombie apocalypse started (the outbreak began in another city and they got ditched during evacuation) for various reasons. could honestly be described as a godawful blend of katawa shoujo and 28 days later. after the initial angst it becomes slice of life fluff i swear

ebbz is the main character and she's an amnesiac who was in a coma when it all started and woke up decided "yeah ebbz is a name. and mine." after looking at her smudged hospital bracelet. due to head trauma she has lost almost all of her previous memories, has difficulty remembering things in general (but can remember she's forgotten things and it terrifies her), light sensitivity and a bit of difficulty recognising faces (she's not completely face blind, it's more of like. a brain lag. it takes her anywhere from up to a few seconds to a minute or so for her to actually be able to recognise peoples faces, this is specifically why the boys start wearing colour coded beanies as it helps her recognise them quicker in an emergency). she never regains her old memories but she does end up doing a lot of scrapbooking to help her make new memories, lots of soft moments around that like kaif scavenging lots of stationary, stan stealing a polaroid camera from a shop, all of them together figuring out how to recycle paper to make more books for her to use, etc. she's immune to the zombie virus flat out, but thats also why she was left behind in the evacuation- as she had a bite mark and the hospital staff could not get any form of confirmation from her that it was not a zombie bite (sometimes the disease takes a while to incubate so they have to check) they legally weren't allowed to bring her to evacuation sites.

kaif is basically half blind. an eye condition has meant he's lost all of his sight in his left eye and his sight in his right eye is dogwater. glasses do help but only so much and considering its a condition that will only get worse as he gets older he's going to be fully blind in the future which terrifies him. he's already learnt how to read braille and started making a lot of preparations as he's honestly kind of paranoid about it, as he went from 20/20 eyesight to rapid loss of sight pretty quick and he's still shaken up about it. ebbz and the gang steal a braille labeller for him and then abuse the fact that they're in a big city with a fancy library to get access to a big, professional braille printer and reprint all his favourite books and cookbooks for him and he ugly cries a bit after seeing how far they've gone for him. he's like the mother hen of the group. he loves cooking, and a lot of the labels hes made have been for containers so he can store ingredients safely and also he got a measuring scale that yells at him but its more annoying than anything else lol. he got left behind during the evacuation as someone bumped him and broke his glasses and he is basically blind without them as he's already blind in one eye and then he got extremely lost and due to the general panic nobody helped him and he stumbled back to his apartment after a few hours to get one of his spare sets of glasses (the evacuation order started whilst he was out shopping so he didnt have a spare set on him) and by then he can't make it to the evacuation sites in time and he knows its too risky to try.

sam's missing both his legs from the knee joint downwards after a car crash. it's been a while and he's pretty used to his prosthetic legs, and they're absolutely covered in stickers. he does get a lot of phantom pain in his legs and has the worst nightmares out of anyone in the group because the incident in which he lost his legs was geniunely pretty traumatic and it has taken him a while and a lot of physical therapy to get to where he is today. he's a bit of a menace, and he's often the one who organises a lot of the surprises and accommodations for the others, so when they respond by collecting as many unique stickers as they can for his birthday to add to his legs he tries very hard not to cry into his cake and fails miserably. definitely the biggest risk taker out of all of them but thats because he's got a whole Thing about not wanting to be useless even though they've all got their own issues, he's got a bit of a "everyone is valid except for me" mentality and pushes himself a bit too much to try and help the others. he got left behind during the evacuation as he couldn't get his prosthetic legs on quick enough and when he realised "this probably isnt happening" he instead helped a very lost kaif back to his apartment as they live in the same building. he gives the best hugs (bear hugs!!!!) and is generally the best for mental health support in their group of survivors even if he doesn't realise it.

stan is deaf after a uh,,, childhood mishap with fireworks in which the neighbour kids thought they hadn't been followed when they snuck off to light fireworks, so when a little 6 year old stan walked up to the lit fireworks because of the pretty lights they panicked. they were able to alert stan enough that he turned around and walked a bit away, but not enough that he didnt get injured, his hearing being severely damaged and his back becoming badly burned. he's still got a bit of chronic pain due to the severe scarring all over his back which is where the catboy joke started because backrubs actually do sort of help relieve the tension and pain but he didnt tell the others at first why he liked it so they all just went "okay silly catboy needs to be pet" and when he finally admitted it was actually helpinf with his pain they were like "stAN OH MY GOD" cause if they'd known they would have done it a lot more. he's got hearing aids and they help to a degree, and the reason he met the others was because he had to go out and scavenge for batteries for them as he didn't have a stockpile because he was like 2 weeks away from getting cochlear implant surgery and the ones he was getting have rechargeable batteries and he was like "finally no more battery pile" WRONG! zombie apocalypse and he's sooo pissed off because he FINALLY fucking got a surgery date and then some asshole broke quarantine and got zombies into cardiff like are you for fucking real. right in front of my goddamn salad. i've been waiting half my life for this you diseased prick. godDAMNIT. anyway the others (kaif + sam, ebbz isnt awake yet) run into him whilst he's trying to scavenge batteries and they help him out with it and he ends up moving all his stuff over to their apartment complex as it's easier to defend and has a lot more room. he got left behind during the evacuation because he flat out didnt hear the alarms. he's been using his hearing aids a lot more since the quarantine started so he can hear alarms if it happens which means the batteries in it were running out quicker and even though it's risky to sleep with hearing aids in as they can get damaged he was taking the risk to make sure he could stay safe and then his batteries fucking ran out whilst he was asleep because stan is the unluckiest man ever so he woke up looked out his window and went "wh. why is cardiff empty. hello. excuse me." and realised that he was unfortunately, comedically fucking unlucky. he's the one person in the group you THINK is normal but he's actually the most aggressive fighter and the best at making traps/questionable diy electronics ("jesus christ, stop putting the fucking wires in your mouth, stan!" "you're not my dad, sam-" "i will kick you, i swear to god." "what, from halfway across the room?" sounds of a prosthetic leg being taken off "wait wait WAIT OKAY OKAY I'M SORRY-") and other related stuff. he's surprisingly good at scuffed diy survival tools, and he's a little gremlin when it comes to hoarding supplies and reusing seemingly broken things. he is also the quickest to cry and start putting himself down whenever he messes up. he sees himself as the most 'pathetic' out of the group because the others actually tried to escape or had physical reasons why they couldn't, he was just asleep and he beats himself up about it a lot and is afraid he's a burden.

god i really wanna write this. i think its the "everyone here is fucked up and not perfectly ablebodied but we're still very capable and resilient people and we accept and care for eachother whilst also making accomodations for one another" that gets me. and the found family (or polyamoury. you never know) too thats always fun.

[redrage71890]

Seamstress Yuu AU, Pt 3

| Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia |

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

This Yuu was a seamstress back in their world, but they got isekaied in Twisted Wonderland and shit and ended up being an early parent of a fire breathing gluttonous cat.

Currently living in a rundown abandoned dorm with three ghosts living with them, they are definitely in need of some madol for the repairs and just.....living...

So why not utilise these skills!

Sketching and sketching ideas for outfits and accessories that could go with it. Once satisfied with some of the ideas, all she needs to do is to find their models.

And she knows just the people...

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

The Octavinelle trio have their own charms, it could work with the right methods!

How did they react to the proposition?

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜}

Combination of stuttering and blushing a bit while trying to be professional at the proposition.

Once he gains composure, he offers a contract in order to split the profits if he were to be a model for Yuu.

And be successful mind you.

But they agree for their ambition and mind states that he will attract the masses with his beauty and charm.

Azul clearly goes red.

When taking measurements, Azul flows quite well and appears confident in his poses he practices, he does get pointers from Yuu and they could pick out the act he puts on quite easily.

He was quite impressed with the drafts he tried on and even gave pointers for accessories that he researched would be popular. Yuu took those into account.

The final outfit comprised of a white see through button-up under a white cropped jacket, black with thin white stripes and black leather boots.

A lot of more accessories with a leather strap wrapped around his waist, silver necklaces, a black leather fingerless glove on the right hand and silver rings on the left hand.

ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝒥𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽}

Unlike Azul, Jade was pretty surprised with the proposition but accepted it.

Yuu has peaked his interest.

Jade seemed quite interested in the craftsmanship that Yuu does and frequently asked her questions purely out of curiosity. Though it did not sound like it to Yuu for a long shot.

Measurement taking went smoothly with few mishaps and unnecessary comments.

When he was given the drafts to try, he liked it a lot and tried giving last minute suggestions of adding mushroom details on his outfit. Again.....Yuu listened and made note of that.

Jade actually sent Yuu mushroom samples that could be used in his outfit. Yuu appreciated the samples but difficulty finding accessories arose when she went searching for some at Sam's shop.

None of them felt right for their creative view.

But on the day of the final reveal, Jade was relatively happy with the final outfit consisting of a frill collared and cuffed shirt paired with a black blazer ending at his midriff with light gold vined patterns, black pants and black loafers with black socks.

Taking into consideration of the mushroom accessories with a thin gold chain belt with little colourful mushrooms attached, small gold rings that held mushroom details in its design and specially found from town was a vintage tree pinecone mushroom brooch that was placed on the side of his chest.

ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝐹𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒹 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽}

Floyd just accepted because he was board and because its Shrimpy giving this proposition, then of course he'll accept!!

Mate has no idea what Yuu really does in detail, he just put together that they make clothes and he's gonna wear them while taking photos.

GETTING MEASUREMENTS WERE SUCH A PAIN FOR YUU! Floyd moved around SO MUCH that Yuu was ready to pop a vessel.

Floyd got quite interested in Yuu's production and frequently popped in at Ramshackle to see the progress Yuu was going. He got to see his drafts early annnnnnnndddd it was so much that he ended up ripping it.

So Yuu had to make another one......

And Floyd was kind of banned from entering Yuu's workspace until they were done.

But on the day of getting the final outfit, he was just having fun with it and actually loved to outfit as it was mainly handmade by Yuu! His little shrimpy!

Comprising of a ruffled collar long-sleeve top, black pants, a black patterned jacket with the sleeves being a see-through material and black combat boots.

Floyd wanted Yuu to deck him out in many accessories (cause he was in a good mood) but he only got some chains coming down on his pants, a few silver rings and an elaborate silver chain necklace that went around his chest.

[miloscat]

[Review] Dark Souls II (PS4)

Don't give up, skeleton!

Since Elden Ring: Nightreign seems to be bringing back bosses from across the Souls games, I thought I should catch up before it comes out. Dark Souls 2 is popularly seen as the black sheep of the franchise, as lesser. This is unfair; having now played it thoroughly, I see it as a worthy successor. Sure it makes some weird choices but strong ones too, and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I played the Scholar of the First Sin edition, a next-gen upgrade that landed a year after the initial release and bundled the DLC along with other new content while remixing a lot of stuff in the base game.

The new setting is Drangleic, a fallen, cursed kingdom which attracts wanderers from other lands who are likewise cursed. As is tradition, the story and lore are drip-fed to you in circumspect manner, and you get more out of it the more attention you put in to piecing it together. Ultimately there are interesting connections to the first game but it's very much its own story, a tale of kings succumbing to the Dark, ancient atrocities and their lingering effects even as they're forgotten by time, a curse that erodes the mind as much as the body.

The kingdom is a strange place, populated by eccentrics and opportunists. The NPC sidequests and covenants are maybe not as obscure as in the first game, and the characters themselves have a higher hit rate of memorability. For example, one guy you meet is a disembodied head, and some of your main merchants are a cat and a lady with a silly ponytail. The whole covenant system mostly relies on multiplayer mechanics which I couldn't access as I played offline, but there's still plenty to do as a solo player, even in the areas that are set up as multiplayer-focused battle arenas.

After Elden Ring's open world underwhelmed me, I loved returning to a game world made up entirely of intricate level design. The areas are densely packed and visually interesting, and do a good job of being varied and colourful despite the dreariness of the dark fantasy setting. There's even puzzle elements at times, especially in the three DLC zones which are the most expansive and challenging. I also had to remember the paramount importance of stamina management, which makes the combat much more measured.

Mechanically DS2 doesn't stray too far from the formula, but makes some important tweaks. Some of these are thoughtful improvements while others... contribute to the weird and spicy flavour of this instalment, let's say. You still collect souls that have to be retrieved on death, but death is extra punishing this time due to incremental penalties to your maximum health. Although this can be mitigated by a certain ring or removed with a consumable item, it remains one of the more frustrating mechanics and rightly wasn't brought back.

Some changes do persist in future entries, like extra equipment slots, the removal of inventory load, not having to constantly repair weapons and armour anymore, a straightforward Estus enhancement mechanic (on top of an abundance of other healing consumables). Player-friendly mechanics! On the other hand are the odd choices that don't return: tying your dodge roll's i-frames to an upgradeable stat, being able to enhance your armour as well as your weapons, the rare consumable items that open paths in the environment. There's so many little oddnesses about this game that I could go on about... the enemy respawn limit, the ability to reset individual areas while increasing their difficulty, the occasional hilariously ganky boss fight, not to mention all the usual little hidden mechanics and interactions.

Other mechanics are much more impactful. Durability this time is restored when resting, so it's treated as almost one of those puzzle elements, another resource to be managed. You're encouraged to keep a few weapons around for when they wear out or to match the weaknesses of enemies. Torch behaviour is also unique here, another puzzley addition where light is necessary to navigate some areas, and lighting braziers or pools of oil can help or hinder you.

My experience with DS2 was pretty smooth compared to my first aggravating steps in DS1. Whether it's from my skills and tolerance for this series developing or the particular design of this game is hard to say. I favoured a shield and various one-handed weapons: a lightning morning star [the bommyknocker], dark-infused Pate's spear (that guy is this game's version of Patches and I won't be convinced otherwise), and the DLC's drakeblood greatsword. I focused on equipment that would boost my stamina recovery, soul gain, and item discovery, supplemented by the heaviest tankiest armour taking up the other slots, which made me quite the comical figure. After fully clearing the game and beating all bosses, my death count was at 246. Is this good? Who knows?

I certainly had a good time. DS2 is trying very hard to live up to the legacy of its predecessors and although it's often maligned, I think it's a stronger overall game that Dark Souls 1. It makes a lot of changes that either are straight refinements or help it stand out as unique, and I love it, warts and all. It certainly had a big influence on Elden Ring in lots of ways, I could tell!

[santoschristos]

Rune Tiwaz ᛏ

Today, February 27th, we enter the Teiwaz rune manifestation period (Tiwaz or Tyr) manifestation period that will last until March 13th.

Teiwaz leads us towards ultimate transformation, just like a guiding star it lights and guides the path of men.

Teiwaz reconciles us with values such as honor, and justice, through which we will be able to find right direction, and the sumptuous understanding of how noble it is and how worth it is to sacrifice a part of ourselves for the greater good, for our people.

The Tiwaz rune evokes the spiritual warrior, courage, it has a supreme power and represents strength, endurance and reliability. It is a protective rune therefore, used in ancient times by ancient warriors to protect them in battle, it is associated with the competitive spirit and the principle of hard work and overcoming someone or something even at the cost of huge sacrifices. Indeed, Teiwaz is also the rune of willpower, of a willingness to give up something dear to restore balance and harmony. It is the strength that makes us go on despite the difficulties, but it must be motivated by noble ideals and not by futile personal selfishness.

Teiwaz urges to adopt a combative attitude in terms of social justice, care, law, contracts, order and rules.

Firmness and perseverance can be the pioneers of victories in these areas, which will make the consultant become an ardent advocate for the interests of the weaker.

Instead, if you choose to get purely personal advantages from the results produced by a lot of effort, the consequences could be foreseeable in legal proceedings, broken relationships, prolonged periods of loneliness and even fights.

Tiwaz is therefore synonymous with Victory, Motivation (understood as willpower), and a strong motivation is associated with a great inner strength, and a great inner strength allows you to better overcome certain difficulties without falling down or giving up. So, Victory, Will, Inner Strength, Determination, but also Magic, Witchcraft and Curse.

DIVINATION

In the divinatory phase, being Teiwaz a rune with male polarity in the context of a certain reading, it can indicate male sexuality, fertility and procreation, it is a direct announcer of a period of change, it indicates the start of new projects, (change of jobs, home, etc.) ) or there will be events that will change one's lifestyle (marriage, birth of a child, move to another country). However, it is necessary to be careful, so that no opportunity escapes, to learn from all these promising new experiences. Upside down indicates the lack of positive qualities that expresses entitlement, i.e. surrender in the face of difficulties, lack of confidence and loss of enthusiasm.

Upside down: The message is decisive: it assures that important changes are coming, but if you don’t have the courage to take risks and if you don’T know how to use your full potential, you won’t benefit from this new, positive situation.

Tiwaz also states to be wary of fears, insecurity and lack of self-esteem. Instead, you need to be able to measure your own strengths and to make a deep effort to achieve your goals.

There is no need to justify yourself, nor feel sorry for the wounds suffered in the past. If you want to live, says Tiwaz, symbol of the warrior god, you just have to look ahead and fight bravely for what you want to achieve.

Correspondence

Sillaba: T

Deity: Tyr.

Tree: Robinia

Herb: Sage

Crystal : Coral

Colour : Red

Zodiac sign: Scorpio, period from November 7 to November 22.

Tarot: VIII Archane Major - The Justice

Astrology: Sun in Libra / Moon in the first house

I Ching: 21st Exagram, Shih Ho - The Bite That Breaks.

fountain

Pagan calendar

The Magic of the Runes

paths of light

runica

Original Post by L'Antro celtico

[shou-jpeg]

Trick or treat 🎃👻🍁

Treat!

****

His hands are flat against the linen, sliding forwards and out, causing crinkles to appear in his path. He smooths them out, making sure the fabric is completely flat against the large, marble table. 

Porchay has a vision.

When he was taking Kim's measurements earlier this morning, his boyfriend asked him why he didn't just go out and buy what he was looking for. They had the money and resources to be able to get anything he wanted after all.

Chay had just looked at him with a flat expression and said nothing. Sometimes Kim says or does things that makes it very obvious that he grew up entitled and with money, having no idea how the world works for less fortunate people. As a musician who likes to make things with his own two hands, Kim really should understand where Chay is coming from, so he made sure to fix him with a particularly unimpressed look at that comment.

It's not just about the end product. It's about the fun of creating something, the fun of learning a new skill and the joy of giving someone precious a handmade gift full of love. 

Kim had looked away awkwardly as Porchay didn't even bother to give him a response, continuing to measuring the length of his long legs.

He'll understand when Chay gives the pants to him, because Kim always really loves the gifts Chay makes for him. He gets that soft look in his eyes and he takes better care of the them than he does anything else he owns, even his instruments.

One of Chay's secret, personal goals in life is to keep getting Kim to make that expression. As often as possible, ideally.

He holds up the pattern, scrutinising it.

He'll be honest, he's not entirely sure what he's doing. He'd done some research of course, but this is still his first time making any sort of clothing item. Flowy pants like these are supposed to be one of the easiest things to make, though… according to the online communities at least.

Drawing out the pattern carefully, Chay begins to settle into that creative headspace he craves where time feels fluid and slips by like a gentle stream. The gramophone crackles as it plays WiK's first album, the music background and soothing his usually racing thoughts.

As the sky begins to darken and Chay realises he's beginning to have difficulty seeing, he decides to take a quick break to switch on the lights and sate the hunger he hadn't noticed he was feeling until now. He loves sewing, he decides.

The pants are…

They're not great, if he's being honest. They're definitely a first attempt. But he's proud of them and he can probably call them complete for now. He will need Kim himself to put them on so he can check the waist and leg length, as he's not nearly skilled enough to feel confident completing them without checking.

Looking over at his work station while he eats, he takes a moment to imagine again what Kim will look like in lovely, white and lightly flowery patterned cullottes. He hasn't really thought about the top half yet, but maybe something blue or yellow would look nice.

Kim always dresses so masculine, but Chay has caught him eyeing more feminine pieces out shopping before. He's not sure why Kim doesn't experiment with his clothes, but Chay is more than ready to encourage him to try new things.

And he can't really say no if it's a gift. Well he could say no, but he won't.

Kim will be finishing up at the studio soon. Chay takes out his phone and takes a picture of his work station, sending it to his boyfriend over Snapchat with only a heart caption.

He pauses for a moment, watching in their chat as Kim's icon shows up in the corner and his message flicks over to 'opened'.

He smiles, and sends over several more hearts in varying colours.

He can't wait until Kim gets home.

[variousqueerthings]

hi, do you have any plans of doing a review system similar to the measurement when you get to the chibnall era of doctor who? I think you said that you didn’t watch it, but i could be wrong

SoooOOOOOoooo first of all hi friend!

second of all: back in the day of uh... whenever the first season of jodie came out, I did watch that season and enjoy it, it was a fun first season. I then promptly forgot everything that happens in it, because my brain works that way, and then (because my brain also does this) was like "well legally I can't watch the second season of jodie unless I rewatch the first season of jodie because I can't remember what happened in it, and I can't watch the first season of jodie, because I don't remember what happened in capaldi's seasons, and I can't watch capaldi's seasons because then I'd have to rewatch matt smith's seasons and if I watch those from beginning to end again I will lose all joy in my soul"

third of all: I no longer feel that way, I have grown as a person who deals with my brain being a silly-billy, so not only could I legally watch whatever I wanted to without the brain police nee-nawing, I also um... well I have a system of how to watch matt smith's seasons so that I find them enjoyable, so actually maybe on second thoughts I didn't quite outrun the whatever-the-heck-my-brain-does laws, so much as... rewrite them a little to work for me (crucially I did in fact... watch all of matt smith's seasons and capaldi's seasons to get back here, so hopefully I can implement a more holistic watch in future, where I just engage with the episodes I noted down with commentary and rankings that I enjoyed!)

fourth of all: I'm not sure if this rating system works for chibnall's era (I mean, maybe it does, I genuinely don't know, but my gut says no). the reason I wrote it in exactly the way that I did was mainly because of very specific noticeable recurring things I dislike in m*ffat's writing across several shows -- misogyny, making all of his main guys cruel because they're "intelligent" (which absolves them of the need to be not-cruel), those men being the most important thing in the universe of the story, "sexy" dialogue, amatonormativity, and overly complex plotlines that often spring up out of nowhere and go nowhere

fifth of all: so maybe what I'll do is just note down more simply what I'm getting out of (or potentially not getting out of) jodie's run. I obviously know the reputation of that era, I've seen a couple of oof moments, but there are definitely oof moments in rtd's and m*ffat's runs, so those alone aren't dealbreakers so much as "I see you"s

sixth of all: actually my main question with regards to chibnall's era is whether he understands that diversity is about more than casting. this in particular with regards to yas being a police officer, and how that may or may not create a difficulty in discussing the limitations and cruelties of systems, such as those propped up by... police officers. (this, by the way, speaking of rtd, so many people of colour and of course shirley anne who's a wheelchair user represented in UNIT, but that is a whole other tangent -- shirley I am manifesting a liz shaw type arc for you where you get to go "hold on, this whole thing is sus")

seventh of all: I think it's much harder, probably, to discuss chibnall's era with such a simplistic system, because from the outset it's a much more complex thing than what m*ffat was doing -- that is m*ffat's was still essentially casting a couple of white guys who were travelling with white women until s10 (which noticeably is... just a better season, in my opinion). this not to say I'm not critiquing it, but I wouldn't want to make a ranking system out of "how well does chibnall do diversity," I feel like that would be crass of me, because these stories opening up like this is already such a fascinating space to play in, vs me in m*ffat's era actually being able to track the almost complete absence of diversity in s5 (vampires in venice and hungry earth have my back) just... as a whole... to where we got to in s9 and s10, and using this measurement system to go "yeah this era got noticeably better on several fronts later on" -- I note btw on this point, that bill is waaay more proactive in her first three episodes that amy or clara usually got to be. her questions also aren't just essentially "and now what are you going to do doctor," they're more her trying to figure out how she's navigating her environments and then working with the tools she's getting

eighth of all (conclusion): probably not a review "system" but yeah, I'll still review for sure and maybe find a way to structure that, I want to be consciously interacting with the story, it's the best way for me to engage and actually remember it afterwards. I won't have the benefit of foresight with these seasons either -- that is, I won't know where certain things are going and how I feel about those trajectories (for example, although I don't remember s10 I do remember liking it!) + what I do know, I'll be filtering somewhat (with the flux for example) through the three specials we just got, so I'll know there's some form of through-line of emotional arc that perhaps wasn't felt as much when it was first being aired? all suppositions

ninth of all (epilogue): I am eager I tell you, eeaaager to see sacha dhawan in action!

tenth of all (nothing in particular): I remember s11 starts in sheffield, which is wonderful to me. since the time it aired I've just been in sheffield so many times, it feels so very familiar to me. wonderful to get out of london for a bit