#god their designs are so cool and detailed I wish I knew how to do detailed outfits better but I tried my best lol

[mazojo]

For a dtiys on insta bc I have brain of the rot so now my OC’s cosplay arcane characters for copium

[rafecameronssl4t]

The Wedding + Honeymoon || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: IM SO SORRY IM ONLY POSTING THIS NOW 😭😭

Warnings: angst, r smoking

Word count: 2,909

A/n: want to walk down the aisle to the instrumental of young and beautiful 🙏 ALSO I was kinda picturing Hailey Beiber's wedding dress for this but of course you don't have to imagine it like that if you don't like it :)

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

The golden sun dipped behind the verdant hills of Lake Como, casting a warm, golden glow over the shimmering water. Every detail of the wedding was pristine, carefully curated to exude opulence and elegance. Towering floral arrangements framed the ceremony site, their sweet aroma filling the cool breeze, while the gentle hum of a string quartet echoed across the villa’s courtyard.

Guests dressed in their finest murmured in hushed tones, their polite smiles hiding the intrigue and judgment bubbling beneath the surface. You stood at the edge of your suite’s balcony, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gown—an opulent creation fit for royalty—was a spectacle in itself.

The bodice was adorned with shimmering crystal embellishments that caught the light with every movement, cascading into intricate floral embroidery that wound its way down the fabric. Layers of silk and tulle fanned out into a dramatic, sweeping train that seemed endless, trailing behind you like a cloud of ivory and gold.

The weight of it wasn’t just physical—it was a burden, a reminder of the life you were stepping into. The veil, edged with delicate gold thread, framed your face like a halo, adding an ethereal quality to your reflection. The gown was breathtaking, designed to inspire awe, envy, and admiration from the guests below.

“You look stunning,” Astoria murmured, her voice soft but filled with practiced poise. She adjusted a stray piece of your veil, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror with a faint smile. “God, I feel like I’m going to be sick,” you muttered, your hand instinctively pressing against your stomach as a shaky exhale escaped your lips.“You’ll be fine,” Charlotte interjected gently, her cool hand resting on your bare shoulder.

Her tone was reassuring, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of worry. The room fell silent, the tension thick in the air. The distant hum of conversation and soft strains of music drifted in from outside, reminding you of the hundreds of eyes waiting below. You swallowed hard, your reflection blurring momentarily as tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them away.

This was your reality now, no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. “Miss de Loughrey,” Anita’s voice broke the silence, gentle but firm as always. Her tone was steady, but you could feel the hesitation behind it, as though she knew she was pulling you toward something inescapable. “It’s time.” You inhaled sharply, trying to summon the strength you didn’t have.

our hands trembled as they smoothed over the intricate beading on your bodice, a futile effort to steady yourself. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?” you whispered, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Anita paused, her usual words of comfort failing her. For a moment, her resolve cracked, and the pity she tried to conceal flickered in her eyes.

"Yes,” she finally said, her nod small and measured. The weight of her confirmation settled over you as you turned toward the grand staircase. Each step closer to the aisle felt heavier than the last. The train of your dress, trailing behind you, seemed to anchor you to the ground, each inch of its intricate lace reminding you of the promise it bore: till death do us part.

The soft strains of a string quartet drifted up to meet you, their melodies as delicate as the tension that filled the villa. At the base of the staircase, your father waited, his face a mask of pride, but his approval was cold comfort. His beaming smile spoke of satisfaction, of accomplishment—but not of your happiness. This wasn’t about her happiness; it never had been.

It was about the de Loughrey legacy, the alliances your marriage would secure, and the image your family had cultivated for generations. The ceremony space was breathtaking, almost cruelly so. The glimmering waters of Lake Como served as the backdrop, framed by arches adorned with cascading flowers in soft whites and blush tones.

Standing at the end of the aisle was Rafe, the man who was now to be your husband. He was a vision of composure in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his features sharp and unyielding as ever. His piercing blue eyes locked on yours, unreadable but unwavering. Was he as reluctant as you? Or was he simply enduring this as another obligation, another deal made in his father’s name?

The guests rose as the music began to play. Their eyes swept over every inch of you—the shimmer of your gown, the soft cascade of your veil, the careful control of your expression. Polite smiles were the only thing that masked their curiosity, the whispered judgments and speculations that hung in the air like an unspoken agreement. They were there to witness, not just the union, but the spectacle of it all.

Your father’s grip on your arm was unyielding, a silent command to maintain your composure. Each step you took felt like an eternity, each footfall louder in your mind than in reality. Your breaths were shallow, each step a countdown to a future you had no control over. As you neared the altar, you turned your head just slightly, your eyes scanning Rafe's family, their gazes fixed on you, expectant.

They were poised, their expressions unreadable but heavy with meaning. Then your gaze flicked to your own family. William stood tall, his presence solid and unwavering; Edward gave you a slight nod, his smile small but genuine—a flicker of something comforting in the sea of cold, calculating faces. Astoria’s gaze was sharp, her lips pressed into a thin line, but Charlotte’s eyes softened as she met yours, her silent support like a breath of fresh air in the suffocating tension.

Your mother stood at the end of the aisle, her eyes flickering with a complex blend of pride and something else—something less discernible but just as heavy. You felt their eyes on you, but it was Edward’s small, reassuring gesture that grounded you, even if only for a fleeting moment. When your father placed your hand in Rafe’s, the coolness of his touch sent a shiver through.

Rafe’s gaze locked on yours, his jaw tight. Was that regret flickering in his eyes? Or annoyance? You couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. You would never truly know what he felt because he never let anyone in, least of all you. The ceremony unfolded like a perfectly orchestrated performance. The officiant’s voice became a blur, the words washing over you like waves you couldn’t fight against.

Rafe’s vows were steady, precise, and detached—more like a contract than a promise. When it was your turn, your voice wavered, each word tasting bitter as it left your lips. You felt like a performer reciting lines in a play you’d never auditioned for. And then came the words you dreaded most: “You may now kiss the bride.” Rafe hesitated, a brief pause so subtle only you would notice.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against your cheek in what should have been a tender gesture. But to you, it felt hollow, rehearsed. His lips met yours, soft but impersonal, a kiss meant to satisfy the onlookers rather than the two of you. A tear slipped down your cheek, unbidden, followed quickly by another. You tried to swallow the sob rising in your throat, but it escaped, fragile and raw.

Rafe pulled back slightly, his brows knitting together as he noticed your tears. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—regret? Guilt? Confusion? He didn’t say anything, though. What could he say? This was the life they had both been forced into. The applause erupted, deafening and hollow, as you turned to face the guests. The petals they tossed felt like a cruel mockery, their smiles oblivious to the turmoil roiling inside you.

Rafe’s arm was linked with yours as you walked back down the aisle together, his grip steady but impersonal. When you reached the edge of the courtyard, away from the prying eyes and flashing cameras, Rafe finally spoke, his voice low and tentative. “Are you okay?” You turned to him, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Does it matter?” For a fleeting moment, his composure faltered.

He opened his mouth as if to respond, something unspoken lingering on his tongue. But then his jaw tightened, and he looked away. “No,” he muttered. “I suppose it doesn’t.” And with that, you both stepped into the waiting car, leaving behind the applause, the guests, and the illusion of a perfect day. But the tension between you remained, a reminder of the life you had been thrust into—a life neither of you had chosen.

~

The flight to Lake Como had been a quiet affair, its tension palpable in the stale air of the private jet, but the journey to your honeymoon destination on the Amalfi Coast felt even more stifling. The jet’s engines hummed softly, a sound that seemed to amplify the silence between you and Rafe. He sat across from you, his tie loosened, his gaze fixed on the landscape beyond the window.

His eyes, though seemingly focused, saw nothing—only the storm within him. He hadn’t spoken much since the wedding reception, and for you, it was impossible to tell whether that was a blessing or just another layer of silent condemnation. It felt like a judgment of your shared fate, this life that had been handed to you both, neither of you fully grasping how to navigate it.

When you arrived at the cliffside villa overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea, it was exactly as you had imagined: stunning, otherworldly, a place that promised beauty but held no solace. The sprawling estate bathed in the soft golden light of the setting sun seemed almost unreal, its pristine white walls gleaming against the lush greenery

A private infinity pool sparkled in the courtyard, and the distant crash of waves against the cliffs below added to the ambiance of serenity—serenity that felt just out of reach. Your chest tightened at the sight, the beauty only intensifying the ache in your heart. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, as much to yourself as to Rafe.

The words were hollow, a futile attempt to hold on to some semblance of normalcy. Rafe nodded curtly, his jaw clenched, as he handed his jacket to the waiting staff. “It’s what they wanted,” he replied flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. They. The families. The ones who had orchestrated every detail of this—this nightmare masquerading as a dream. You swallowed hard, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill.

You had cried enough at the wedding; you couldn’t let yourself break down here, not when the weight of this new reality pressed so heavily on your chest. Your luggage was swiftly taken away to the master suite, and your stomach twisted at the thought of sharing the room with Rafe. The villa was vast, yet you felt trapped in its grandeur.

It didn’t matter how many rooms it had; there was no escaping him, no escaping the suffocating awareness of his presence that clung to you like a second skin. It felt like a constant reminder of the life that had been chosen for you both, a life you had never asked for but were now forced to live. Dinner was served on the terrace as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink.

The table was set for two, an intimate setting that only deepened the awkwardness between you. You sat with your back to the view, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tension in the air. As the waitstaff began to serve, you pulled out a cigarette and lit it, drawing in the smoke slowly. You let the warmth of the cigarette ease some of the tension in your chest, the familiar burn helping to steady your nerves, even as it made the air feel heavier between you and Rafe.

You watched the thin ribbon of smoke curl upwards, the sharp scent mixing with the salty breeze from the sea. The rich flavours of the meal were lost on you, your mind too distracted by the palpable silence and the feeling of suffocation that lingered in the villa. Every now and then, you stole a glance at Rafe, but he was focused on his plate, his jaw tight.

His eyes flicked briefly to your cigarette, but he said nothing. “You’re not eating?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence, but his tone was neutral, almost indifferent. You took another drag, watching the smoke swirl in the fading light. “I’m not hungry,” you said softly, the words laced with an unspoken truth. It wasn’t the food you needed; it was the way the cigarette soothed the restless tightness in your chest.

Rafe leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you now, though his expression remained unreadable. “You’ll need to eat eventually,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Skipping meals won’t change anything.” The words hit you harder than expected, and you looked up, a spark of frustration flaring inside. “I know that, Rafe. Believe it or not, I’m not trying to starve myself out of this situation.”

His frown deepened, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “Then how did you mean it?” Your voice was sharp, the anger you’d been holding back bubbling to the surface. “What, are you worried I’ll embarrass you by fainting in front of the staff?” “That’s not what I—” He cut himself off with a harsh exhale, frustration lacing his tone. “Forget it.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow in the quiet of the terrace. “Of course. Forget it. Just like we’re supposed to forget the fact that neither of us wants to be here.” His eyes hardened, his jaw clenching. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I asked for this?” “You certainly don’t seem to be fighting it,” you shot back, your words sharp. “You’re just as complicit as everyone else in this—this arrangement.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Rafe’s voice rose, snapping in the quiet of the evening. “Just like you didn’t. So stop acting like I’m the villain here.” You pushed back your chair, the legs scraping against the stone floor as you stood up abruptly, cigarette dangling from your fingers. “You don’t get it, do you?” Your voice trembled with barely contained fury. “You’ll always have more freedom than I ever will. You’re Rafe Cameron, the golden boy. You’ll get to live your life the way you want, no matter what. But me?”

You shook your head, the words leaving your lips in a bitter rush. “I’m just a pawn. A vessel for heirs.” For a moment, Rafe froze, his gaze hardening into something unreadable. He clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “If that’s what you think, then maybe you don’t know me at all,” he said quietly, his voice sharp and laced with bitterness.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked away, the sound of your heels clicking against the stone as you retreated into the villa, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you needed distance—from him, from this place, from the suffocating reality of your new life. The master suite was dim when you entered, the moonlight casting faint shadows across the room.

You sank onto the edge of the bed, staring out at the sea beyond the open balcony doors. The cool night breeze brushed against your skin, but it did little to quell the ache gnawing at your heart. Your mind was a whirlwind, thoughts spinning in every direction, none of them providing any clarity. Minutes passed before you heard the door creak open behind you. You didn’t need to look to know it was Rafe.

His footsteps were slow, hesitant, the sound of his approach almost a whisper. He stopped a few feet away, his presence filling the room without the need for words. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and almost uncertain. You turned to look at him, surprised by the softness in his tone, by the lack of his usual bravado. “For what?”

“For... everything,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair, his eyes searching the room as if he couldn’t quite find the right words. “I know this isn’t fair. To either of us.” You blinked, startled by his candor. For a brief moment, you saw something human behind the walls he’d carefully constructed. Something fragile, something real. “It’s not,” you agreed quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

Rafe sighed, sitting down in the armchair near the balcony, his eyes distant as if he was searching for something in the dark expanse of the sea. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he confessed, the words heavy with uncertainty. “But I don’t want us to hate each other.” You studied him, noting the tense line of his shoulders, the way his eyes avoided yours.

For the first time, you wondered if he was just as lost as you felt. “I don’t want that either,” you whispered, your words fragile, as if they might break under the weight of everything you had left unsaid. You both sat in silence, the sound of the waves below filling the space between you. It wasn’t an answer, not really. But it was something—a fragile, tentative start.

[tadpole-apocalypse]

so what’s your verdict on veilguard? Seems like you’re not a fan

Putting this under a read more because I am going to be brutally honest about how I feel and it’s extremely negative.

I hate this game. I haven’t played past the middle of act 2 (whenever the second meeting with the inquisitor is) and I have no desire to pick it back up now. I feel like I’m in mourning for the game I wanted, the one that was canceled and now I’m in my anger phase of my grief.

I feel lied to and tricked by BioWare. I thought, well with everything going on and all the delays and restarts it probably won’t be as good as Inquisition, but at least I can count on them for a fun role playing game and romances. I didn’t get either of those things, and in fact those two aspects were so poorly done it is astounding to me that they felt this game was ok to ship like this.

They told me this was the most romantic BioWare game and considering the heights I experienced with BG3’s romances (Astarion and Lae’zel’s romance and character arcs will live in my heart forever) I had high expectations. Instead I got a tepid non romance where I only learned I was dating someone by the Inquisitor mentioning it off hand. The lucanis romance gave me nothing; no story, no drama, no spite, no romance. There is no slow burn here, this is a NO BURN.

Apparently his romance scenes aren’t even unique to Rook and are also used for Neve which is insane to me. Romancing him makes me feel like a creep trying to bully my subordinate into a relationship.

Even the better romances are horribly under developed. 18 minutes of romance content is PATHETIC. They hyped up these romances!!! They knew they were lacking and marketed them in a way I feel is very slimy and misleading!

My other major sticking point is everything with the Dalish. I hate hate hate everything about how they’re handled and barely involved in a story of their own gods; they should have had a scene of an Arlathvhen where the clans meet up to discuss these new revelations, causing some clans to side with elgar’nan and ghilan’nain. But BioWare was too cowardly to have enemy Dalish and put them up on a high shelf away from their own story and mythology.

There’s so many little things that start to add up and impact my enjoyment. It’s not just those things but a lack of attention to detail of their own world. No new tavern songs, inconsistent accents, lack of meaningful roleplay options, the overly modern way of talking, the themes of religion and faith being completely absent, everyone being very blase about being in the fade physically, no sandal and bodahn…

They should have designed all the Evanuris, or at least Andruil. I have wanted to see her void/blight armor forever. Having them just already be dead of sadness because their arch demons died is very much a let down. 😤

I do think the game has redeeming qualities but these grievances I have far outweigh any of my enjoyment, for now. I’ll revisit it later once my head has cooled and see if I feel different later.

That said I have plenty of mutuals who are loving and enjoying the game and what it gives and I am glad that they are able to get something from it. I always like seeing people be creative and making their own stories and I hope for them it was the game they wanted and I really wish I could share that sentiment.

[cradle-of-darkness]

hey!! I have lots of stuff I made for cfco (this thing!) that I really want to share and also just keep in one spot, so here's kind of a cfco """artbook""". LOTS of rambling about my ocs up ahead!!! you have been warned!!!!

old code foretold co-op art under cut ↓

first up is this little thumbnail of a mock up poster/book cover! this was made while cfco lived only in my imagination, before I actually started to seriously consider making it into something tangible. little did I know that I would eventually repurpose this design into the title art 😈

I realized this design wouldn't work vertically if i was gonna make cfco in google slides so I switched some stuff around and boom!!!! more detailed sketch!!!!!

here's a placeholder background I slapped together and used while testing out how I wanted things to look (textbox design, font, color palette, sprites). if you look closely at the background of jay and raziel's infocards you can see I used this for those since I didn't have the actual backgrounds drawn at that point. there were actually some earlier textbox designs with a little icon that was supposed to show the face of whichever character was speaking to make it more clear, but ended up cutting that since i thought it'd be unnecessary extra work for me

here's a thumbnail for what was supposed to be the final slide! I kinda wished I finished this but honestly I kinda forgot about it 😭 plus there wouldn't be a lot of room for the text in this design. I also think it's a little misleading because it implies evelyn is still In The Walls when she is not. she is elsewhere now. hopefully in therapy

some of the first iterations of jay my stupid clown son who I love oh so dearly. oh god where do I even start with him. well for starters these sketches are from OCTOBER!!!!! of LAST YEAR!!!!!! WILD!!!!!!!! anyway as you can see he's pretty different here. I can't talk about his design without saying that from the very beginning he was designed to be a foil to sylvie and I tried to get that across in just about anywhere I could. at first I just thought the idea of an "anti-sylvie" would be cool, but then that idea quickly evolved into a completely separate character.

I picked his epithet, "sunshine", to contrast "drowsy". I didn't wanna go for the exact opposite word to drowsy like "awake" or "energetic", but it got me thinking about night/day parallels and I figured I could do something with that, which made me land on "sunshine"

jay is a clown who dropped out of school and doesn't want to be taken seriously because he's exhausted from the restrictions his family put on him! meanwhile sylvie is a psychologist who graduated early and wants to be taken seriously because he craves respect and validation (possibly out of a lack of respect from his family). parallels!!! I could honestly go on and on about everything in jay's personality that foils sylvie's but I'll just stick to his design because idk if anyone else wants to hear all that 😭

so yeah uh back to his design. his mask used to cover his eyes! I changed it to cover his mouth since sylvie's glasses cover only his eyes, I thought it'd be more fitting if jay's mask covered whatever sylvie's glasses don't cover

he also had a star motif! I felt like this didn't line up with him being sun themed so I scrapped it

lots of jays!!! they're all squished together on one image because tumblr image limit

because his color palette is based off of an inverted version of sylvie's, I already knew I wanted his main colors to be blue, red/pink, black, and brown/bronze. I messed around with this palette a lot before I got it to look ok. there's some earlier versions of his design where he's more pink than red

his design here differs a little from what I ended up sticking with!!!

- the cuffs of his sleeves and his gloves got their colors switched around

- the clown nose on his mask became an actual separate piece instead of just a flat red spot

- the ruffles on his undershirt. gone

- slightly simplified bangs

- no more blue streaks in hair!!! I actually kinda wish I kept these :(

he was actually supposed to be much more outwardly malicious. like one of these characters who does whatever sounds the most fun at the moment regardless of the consequences or their morals. I thought it'd be cool if instead of the usual little shine I give characters on the side of their eyes, jay had a triangle shape towards the top of his eye that looked like a shine, but then when he gets serious and narrows his eyes, it's no longer visible and it makes his eyes look like there's no light in them

I gave him a subtle X motif because I thought it was like the opposite of a swirl. a swirl curls in on itself while an X sticks out sharply in different directions

near the top of the image is an idea for jay's "phoenix design". his powers aren't shown a lot in cfco, but I like to think that after he's defeated in a fight, he can revive himself for a short period of time... like how a phoenix is reborn 😱😱😱😱 anyway this design was supposed to be what he might look like after reviving. it needs some work but I like his hat

the bottom of this image is sketches for his sprites!!!!

and speaking of his sprites...... here's some quick sketches I made for some of his poses!!!!! I wanted his sprites to mirror the poses of some of sylvie's portraits, but with a contrasting emotion. when sylvie's angry he stands up straight and holds his arm out in an accusatory pose. when jay is happy he jolts up and reaches out his arm in delight. when sylvie is proud of himself he leans forward and gestures towards himself. when jay is nervous he jerks to one side and brings his hand to his collar out of uncertainty. can you tell how much I wanted jay to parallel sylvie

by the way while I'm on the topic I think it's worth mentioning: jay and sylvie are...... kinda maybe sorta oc x canon......... (LOUD BOOING SFX) I wrote them as friends and that's how they'll stay but I really love them together and I like imagining, in a scenario where they're both in better places mentally, they're in a qpr. ok. so what. sue me.

moving on from jay, here's one of raziel's first designs all the way from december of last year!!!! this was around when I started to roughly construct the plot of cfco in my brain. i really like how he looks here but I had to leave behind some elements of this design to prevent it from feeling too cluttered and to make them easier to redraw multiple times for their sprites. the design of their sleeves was actually based on a jacket I saw around this time that I thought looked cool

and finally here's evelyn! the first image is one of my first drawings of her along with an idea for what she would've looked like in the past. then the second is a sketch of her portrait compared to the final one. there's actually a lot I want to say about her and by extension cfco as a whole

in my head, cfco was a lot different. it just existed as little collections of scenes I would imagine that I thought I could string together and form a cohesive story out of. these little scenes started to evolve and become more complex, which made me realize I would not be able to make them into anything in that state.

cfco was going to have a much deeper plot centered around evelyn discovering a secret about how epithets function. this secret would have been a lot for one person to handle and being burdened with this knowledge would have caused her a great deal of stress, so she made a nearly impossible game which would reveal this secret to whoever wins it so that someone else can share this burden. I realized while writing the draft of cfco that at my current writing ability, I wouldn't be able to pull a story like this off, and also that whatever I made this secret would probably end up being not possible in the world of ee as more lore gets revealed, so I switched some stuff around and now it's not about that anymore, but I think a consequence of that was now the plot feels a little rushed and unpolished 😭 oh well

the mark on her chest was also originally a scar from something related to this version of the story. I wanted to keep that part of her design even though it's not a scar in the current version of her character, so it's a birthmark now

I thought the themes of "forbidden knowledge" accompanied by vague religious imagery were cool for the original idea and I had integrated these themes into the characters and story so much by that point that it'd be a waste to turn it back around so I figured I should just keep them in even if it makes less sense

raziel is very angel themed! the straps on the back of their jacket are supposed to look like angel wings. the circles all over their outfit is supposed to give the feeling of halos, or the many eyes of a seraphim. evelyn has a pomegranate shaped necklace and her hair is supposed to be shaped like a pomegranate. her surname even used to be plague-odd, pun on "play god" (which I ended up changing to a similar sounding name). raziel and evelyn also have angel numbers associated with them. raziel's is 111 (intuition) and it's present in his birthday, while evelyn's is 444 (protection) and is present in her age and birthday

that's about it!!! if you read this far thank you so much 🙏 even though it's not very good, I'm glad I made cfco after spending so long being scared to write something and share it online. not to be that guy who wants people to ask him about his ocs but if u wanna know anything else about these guys 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 u can ask 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I love talking about them (especially jay. if you couldn't already tell he's the favorite child)

by the way here's all of jay and raziel's sprites. the links should hopefully work????

jay

raziel

[vlad-theimplier]

WIP Wednesday: Custos Custodium

This week, Jensen continues to deal with a bunch of lunatics in a federal super-max. The other prisoners are kind of a pain in the ass, too. Perceive the drama in its entirety: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55686901/chapters/141357007

Stenger’s unwelcome voice sounded in his hears before his vision cleared. “Oakes! So help me God! For once, I’d just like to be in charge of something that isn’t complete shit!”

Static turned to a white blur, and the world came back to him. An unfamiliar face in prison-guard blues swam into view and looked away. “He’s up! Stenger, he’s up!”

“About damn time. Lemme get a look at him. Move.” Stenger bent down in front of Jensen, shoving the other CO roughly aside.

“You and me, we need to talk,” he hissed. To the guard, he said, “Get out of here. Make sure no one bothers us.”

“But—but Chief! What about the riot?”

“I said out, dipshit!”

The guard retreated. Stenger went to one knee, meeting Jensen’s eyes. “Look, Walthers. What happened in the showers was a mistake, all right, but it wasn’t my fault. If Junkyard would’ve told me you were coming, none of this would’ve happened.” He stood and offered Jensen a hand.

Jensen focused on his grip while his mind raced. “Junkyard… Then you know why they sent me.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. But I can fix this! Goddammit, didn’t I tell you guys something was gonna happen? ‘Mejia runs hot,’ I said. ‘Too much pasión.’ Sure enough, he went off-script and put the entire operation at risk. I swear, I’m the only one in here who knows what he’s doing.”

Stenger’s attempt at a disarming approach raised Jensen’s hackles more than even the CO’s smug demeanor in the showers, but he kept his cool. “Good job figuring me out. What say you give me an update on the operation?”

“Soon as I saw you in Processing, I knew you were a Junkyard MVP. Nice to finally meet someone who appreciates the skill set I bring to this outfit. Just wish you’d’ve come to me first.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Jensen said, concealing improv with impatience. “Give me all the details. Is the operation compromised?” He knew he could only fish so much before Stenger got suspicious.

“It’s gonna be fine, don’t worry. If anything, we can turn Mejia’s fuck-up into a plus. After we get this god-damned riot under control, we can probably multiply the merchandise by a factor of… ten, hell, it’ll all just be lying out there.” Avarice glittered in his eyes.

What would Junkyard call merchandise in their dealings with a crooked CO…? Oh. He fought back his anger and kept his face impassive. “Where’s Mejia now?”

“I got that covered, don’t you worry. He’s squared away in Solitary on a TVI, tighter than a sheep’s asshole when the shepherd stinks of wine. He’ll be dead this time tomorrow.”

Jensen wasn’t sure Stenger realized how apropos the crude aphorism was, the prison’s top guard in on an aug-harvesting scheme run on his own charges. “Dead tomorrow? That’s not acceptable. Junkyard needs Mejia alive. I want to speak with him. Now.”

“No disrespect, jefe, but you being a VIP and all, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Since your boy went and killed Wilburg, the prison’s gone to complete shit with these filthy-ass Augs tearing up the place… no offense.”

“Isn’t the prison designed to stop something like this? What happened?”

“Frederick Flossy happened.” Stenger spat on the floor. “Budget Malcolm X type, educated just past his A-B-Cs, so I guess that about makes him a fucking genius in here.”

“Yeah, we met. The inmates obviously look up to him.”

“Word is, he managed to smuggle a biocell to one of his cronies.” Fortunately, Stenger was too riled to notice Jensen’s twitch of guilty surprise “Stupid clank bastard jammed it up his asshole and went nuts. Got into the biocells in lockup after killing the guards on duty and… ‘et voilà.’ I don’t get it. The Choke was supposed to kick in, but it’s like twenty-twenty-seven all over again.”

“What do you expect? You push a chip inside them, take away what they are… trust me, that’ll piss off any Aug.” He bit his tongue, too late, but Stenger took it as merely personal.

“Yeah, sorry about that. But again, if Junkyard would have told me you were coming… whatever. I’ve got a riot response team on the way that’ll be more than happy to push their shit in for them.”

The other guard—Oakes, maybe—stuck his head in. “Boss, cell block is clear. Looks like most of the trouble is toward the Admin building.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine,” Stenger said. “They’re just fuckin’ Augs. There’s no way they can take the entire prison.”

The PA system contradicted him in a squeal of feedback. “Woo! Frederick Flossy comin’ at you live! You out there, Stenger? Time’s up for you and your goon assholes, motherfucker!”

“Christ on a cracker!” Stenger yelled through gritted teeth. “Sorry, Walthers, you’ll definitely need to stay here. The guards are gonna be shooting inmates on sight, and the last thing we need is you getting drilled. Oakes! Get to Admin and do something about that fucking PA. I’ve got something to take care of first—I’ll meet you there.” The door hissed shut behind him.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 4

Chapter 1     Chapter 3

“We have a problem,” Tim grumbled as he stumbled into the dining room.  He threw the morning newspaper down on the table, letting it slide the last few feet until it stopped millimeters short of Bruce’s coffee.

Bruce sputtered his eggs and grabbed the paper, staring at the picture of him speaking with Marinette and Adrien that took up the entire front page above the fold.  He threw the paper back on the table.  “Son of a b…”

“We’ve been getting calls from PR all morning,” Tim interrupted him before Alfred got upset with Bruce for his language. “Because they’ve been getting calls from every newspaper, news station, blog, and interested citizen in the world, calling to ask them about it.”  

Tim poured himself a large cup of coffee, larger than usual.  He’d had patrol last night and gotten woken up at the crack of dawn this morning with calls about the story. So he was running on all of three hours of sleep and just wanted to crawl back into bed, but with this story, there was no chance of him getting to bed until after tonight’s patrol had already left.

It didn’t help that he was beating himself up for not picking up on the cues she was giving that night.  He’d run into her.  He and Stephanie had talked to her.  He saw her freeze up when she realized who he was.  He knew she was acting off, he just hadn’t thought it was nefarious.  If anything, it seemed hurt, not scared.  He should have caught onto her body language. He should have noticed how she seemed to freeze when he mentioned the family.  She must have thought he was fishing, letting her know he was onto her and her plan to do this.  

“You’d think after all the false alarms they’ve reported in the past that they’d know better by now.  Not every black haired, blue eyed child is a Wayne.  I’ve had PR draft up a statement that while we appreciate her support for the orphans, she is not, in fact, a Wayne,” he finished, taking a bite of his muffin, missing Bruce’s grimace.

Damian grabbed the paper, wrinkling it in his clenched fists as he scanned the text.  “She must have orchestrated the whole thing to put this out.  How else would they know these details?”

“No,” Dick commented thoughtfully, prying the paper away from Damian to take a look at the picture.  “If she was in on it she would have put on a better act.  Look at the image.  She isn’t playing into it.  She looks scared, not excited to ‘introduce her fiancé to her family’.” Dick quoted. He briefly scanned the paper for more information.

All the evidence appeared to be the picture, her physical features, and some call logs to her parent’s business.  Dick scrunched up his face with concern.  While not damning, it was interesting.  He didn’t know any reason Bruce would have to contact a bakery in Paris.  “Not to mention the story would have gone out yesterday for a bigger circulation boost. Sundays are the big press days. They wouldn’t have waited until Monday. That suggests they researched, or rather stole the information.  And no quotes from her in here.”

“Fine,” Damian growled, acquiescing to his logic. “Maybe she did it after the fact. She saw the opportunity and took it.”

“No,” Bruce admitted quietly.  “She wouldn’t have had to do that.”  The room seemed to become still as everyone turned to face him.  “If she wanted this story to go out she could have put it out at any time.  And she would have played up the dance, would have sought me out at the gala.  But she didn’t.”

“What dance?” Duke asked cautiously, his focus entirely on Bruce now.

“I asked her to dance.  She said no.  Ran away as quickly as she could actually,” Bruce chuckled self-deprecatingly as he stared at the paper in Dick’s hands.

Damian blinked at him as though the longer he stared the clearer what was happening would become.  But no matter how hard he stared, the image didn’t become clearer. If anything, things became hazier. “This could all be a clever ruse. She wants to appear innocent so when you confront her she can point out that she didn’t do those things.  It says she’s an aspiring designer.  This could all be for publicity.”

“She wouldn’t have to go through all that,” Bruce stated again, more finality in his voice.  He finally looked up, but still didn’t make eye contact with any of them.

Dick stared at Bruce, taking in his response, letting the words and their broader meaning sink in.  The words he wasn’t saying hung in the room like thick smoke, winding their way into everything they touched, stealing the air out of the room.  “What are you saying Bruce?” Dick asked cautiously

“The story’s true, isn’t it,” Tim observed.  It was a statement more than a question.  

Bruce nodded with a sigh.  “Except for the meeting her fiancé part.”

Tim knew it was true even before Bruce’s verbal acknowledgement.  The pieces suddenly fit together.  It was the only thing that made sense.  That’s why her reactions were off.  That matched.   He saw her face when they told her the gala was to celebrate family.  He saw her body language change sharply when Stephanie joked about Bruce taking in everyone he saw.  He wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time and didn’t really even try because it didn’t seem relevant and they had more important issues to think about, namely celebrating Duke.  After the story, he thought the reactions were a tell.  But now… now that he knew, they were a tell, but for something else entirely.

She was trying to be polite about it, not letting on how hard it was hitting.  And oh God, didn’t that make it worse.  Everything they said had been cordial, joking at Bruce’s expense, at their own expense. But with the new knowledge… it was at hers.  They weren’t jokes, they were digs.  They were attacks.  They were him putting her ‘in her place’; out of the family.  Tim took in a shuttering breath and collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands.

He would have so much to apologize for.  He would have to find her and make sure she knew he didn’t mean his words the way they must have come across.  He knew how it felt to not be accepted.  He knew how it felt to not feel loved by your parents. He knew how it felt to have your place in the family questioned constantly, to be attacked, to be unwelcome. He wouldn’t wish that on enemies, let alone family.

“Who is she, Father?” Damian demanded.

Bruce met his eyes, guilt swimming in his own.  “She’s your half-sister.  Her mother and step-father have been raising her in Paris,” Bruce answered calmly.

Damian fought the gasp his lungs demanded against his will.  His father was confirming it.  He was acknowledging her.  But never trusted them with the information.  “Were you ever going to tell us?” Damian finally asked with forced coolness

“I was letting the dust settle on introducing Duke before I broached it,” Bruce hedged.

“So you just found out,” Damian asked angrily.  That would make sense.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, him.  It was that he didn’t know until recently.  Of course that was what happened.

“No.”

Damian gaped at him, his hastily built protective construct shattering with one word.  “How long have you known?”

“Since she was born.”  Damian gaped at him.  He’d known. He’d known since before Damian came to live with them and still never told them.  He didn’t trust him.  Even after all he’d done, he still didn’t trust him.  And now he was letting this unknown, this daughter, even just thinking the word made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, do whatever she wanted.  He trusted her but not him.

“You have a daughter, a biological daughter you’ve known about for decades and that you never told us about,” Dick asked again in a daze.  He fell into a chair staring at Bruce incredulously.  There was no way.  He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.  He loved kids.  He loved his kids.  Why would he send one away?  He hadn’t even wanted to do that to Jason.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know?” Duke asked. He looked around, taking in the stunned, disbelieving, hurt expressions.

“Not just you,” Damian gritted out.  

Duke sucked in a breath and pulled out his phone, texting Jason and Cass to let them know what was happening.  They were going to want to know as soon as possible too. All of them were going to have questions and issues with this information.  And if the conversation went on much longer, they may want to be involved.

“Why was she there last night?  What did she want?  Surely she wouldn’t have come without a plan,” Damian pressed.  Nobody had access to the kind of power and money they had and just walked away.  If she was presenting herself and not to them, to the press, there must be a reason, a plot.  They needed to find out more about her to figure it out.  “How did she get a ticket in the first place?”  That might be a place to start.  It would give an insight into her accomplices and they could be pressed later for more information.

Bruce sighed and looked back down at his food, pushing the plate away, no longer hungry in the slightest.  “I can’t answer how she got her ticket.  As to why she was there, she was there to talk about a position for a friend of hers… with Lucius apparently, not me.”

“She was using her name to get her subpar friend a job,” Damian spat in disgust.  There had to be more though.  With their name, she could get much, much more.  This had to be an opening gambit.  The job must be placing an operative, loyal to her, within their institution.  Next was the stunt with the press.  They needed to figure out her next steps.

“No,” Bruce insisted.  “She didn’t mention her association.  He doesn’t know… well, he does now.  He spoke to me after the gala, said he discovered one of our managers is stealing ideas and there was someone he was going to spend the weekend researching but he was excited about hiring him.  Luthor is trying to hire him, so if we don’t act fast we’ll lose him.  I’m betting that was her friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Damian growled out.  “That could be a coincidence.”

“I’ll confirm with Lucius today, but it fits with what I know,” Bruce insisted calmly.  “From what her mother has told me over the years, it’s the kind of thing she would do; go well out of her way to help a friend.  And her mother let me know she was planning on attending the gala to talk about hiring her friend.  I just thought she was going to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Dick asked breathlessly. He was staring at Bruce with hurt saturating his eyes.  He heard nothing after Bruce admitting he’d known about her and never told them.  He was aware Bruce had been saying things for the last few minutes but none of it had registered.  None of it was what he needed to know.  

Bruce sighed and ran his hand over his face.  “Nobody knew.  Nobody but me and her mother and step-father.  It was easier that way.”  Easier to pretend was left unsaid.  Easier for Bruce to pretend like he hadn’t cut her out of his life, like he didn’t regret it every day.  Easier for Bruce to try to forget.

“Not even her?” Duke asked.

“Not even her,” Bruce confirmed with a sigh.  He ran his hand over his face.

“Why?”  Dick was staring at him in wide eyed confusion.  It didn’t make sense.  None of it made sense.  He’d been with Bruce for twenty years and never heard a whisper of a biological daughter. But she existed.  And he knew.  Bruce took a deep breath and Dick scowled.  “I swear to God, B, if you say some dumbass excuse like to protect her…”

“She has a happy life.  Her mother and step-father love her beyond words.  They support her, love her, encourage her.  They’re there for her whenever she needs it.  They never miss an event.  Family dinners every night.  She has friends… a good life.  She’s safe.  She never had to worry about defending herself.  She never had to be taught what to do when she got kidnapped.  Never had to… doesn’t remember seeing the people around her dead from the latest rogue attack.  Not like what she would have here…” he again left the last part of the sentence off. The “with me” was left for everyone to fill in on their own.

“You’re a good father,” Tim assured him weakly, because at this point, with this information…

“I hope so.”  Bruce gave him a weak smile.  “But when she was born…  I had an obligation.  I had a responsibility.”

“She was your responsibility!” Dick yelled, his face suddenly contorting in anger and frustration with Bruce.

Bruce looked away stoically, face suddenly a mask devoid of emotion.  “She had a better option and I made sure she got it.”

The room was silent for a few moments while his words settled in.  The only sound was Dick seething in his seat.  “But she doesn’t know you?  You never visited.  You never interacted with her.  Even not telling her who you were to her,” Tim clarified.

Bruce shook his head.  “I visited her final project for her degree a few weeks ago under the guise of research for the fabric project.  She’s a designer.  I was hoping to get her in on the fabric project.  I thought it would be a good cover to get her comfortable with the family. But I didn’t talk with her while I was there.”  He chuckled slightly at the memory.  “I couldn’t even get close.  There were too many people talking to her, congratulating her, offering her internships. Her work was beautiful.”

“But you’ve talked with her parents,” Tim checked.

He sighed and waved his hand helplessly.  “I spoke with Sabine every so often to check on Marinette, make sure she was okay.  I helped pay for her schooling, but even that was disguised as an investment into her parents’ company.”

“So her parents were having you pay for their company, holding the secret over your head,” Damian spat out.

“No!” Bruce growled.  He knew Damian was having a hard time with this.  Hell, that’s one of the main reasons he waited so long, because he knew Damian wouldn’t react well.  Damian would have taken it as an attack on his position in the family.  And after the way he treated Tim and Dick when he first found out about them… They could protect themselves against his attacks. She wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t know how far Damian would actually go and he didn’t want Damian to have to find out either.  He had been waiting until Damian was more settled, more secure in the family and their unconditional love for him before he reached out to her.  But he wasn’t going to let him disparage Sabine and Tom.  They’d been nothing but understanding.

“They only let me put in the amount for tuition. They wouldn’t allow me to give any more than that and Marinette got a scholarship for her university so she didn’t need any assistance.  I tried to keep giving them money for her to at least have spending money but they refused. They stopped accepting the transfers. They only relented when I said it would look suspicious.  So they’ve been creating a trust for her with it.”

Damian grumbled and looked away.  Whatever their game was, they were certainly good at it.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands.  “Nobody was supposed to know about her until I was sure it was safe,” Bruce grumbled into his hands.  “Until I’d had a chance to talk to everyone about it.”

“Well now everyone knows, so maybe now is a good time to start trying to make that connection,” Dick growled.

“If she’ll let us,” Tim added.  He remembered the look in her eyes when he talked about his… their family.  

“It’s never too late to start trying to bond,” Dick insisted.  His eyes were bordering on wild.  They could bring this back, right?  The family had come back from worse.  They’d faced steeper hills.  Hell, Damian tried to kill them when he first came.  Jason had also tried to kill them all more than once when he came back. She couldn’t be that bad.  They just had to make the first move.  “We just have to let her know we want to.”

Tim shook his head and looked down, not at all convinced it really was as easy as that.  Tim was awkward on a good day.  He could make friends but usually they made the first move.  He was pretty certain she wouldn’t make the first move in this instance.  Damian wouldn’t accept her, period.  Dick would crowd her.  Jason would… whatever Jason did, probably disappear.  She wasn’t a Robin so he probably wouldn’t try to kill her.  Cass would try, but her success depended on Marinette understanding what Cass wasn’t saying.  And Bruce… Bruce was never good at understanding emotions or sympathizing. Honestly, their best hope was Duke.

Duke breathed out a deep sigh and looked away. This family was not easy to get along with or find your place with.  And bonding with each other?  He managed because he fought next to them.  They bonded in the field, in their suits.  He wasn’t sure if they realized that about themselves.  If they interacted outside the suits it was because of the bond they formed inside them.  She wouldn’t have that opportunity and without it…  The prognosis was not good.

“What are you going to do, B?” Tim asked tentatively. “Because whatever your plans were, now she knows and she’s dealing with it on her own.  She… You need to talk to her.”

Bruce sucked in a breath and massaged his temples.  “I know.”  

“And you need to apologize,” Dick added firmly.

Bruce nodded.  “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick growled.  “You have no idea what has to be going through her head right now.”  He grabbed his bag and stalked out of the manor, slamming the door as he left.

“And you need to decide what we’re going to tell the public,” Tim added.  “We need to put a statement out soon.”

“I know,” Bruce agreed.  His voice this time was more detached.  That was something he would have to decide, but that wasn’t the priority right now and not something he wanted to do without her input.  

He needed to come up with a new plan and quickly. This was nothing like the one he had come up with.  He was supposed to have more time.  He was supposed to be able to ease into this.  He was supposed to be able to feel things out before deciding a path.  He was supposed to control the environment and how his family found out.  

But now he was thrown into it, they all were, and he had no idea how to proceed.  He didn’t know her well enough to anticipate how she would react to the situation or to him. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know the best way to approach her.  He needed to come up with a game plan.  He sighed heavily.  He had to get into the office, not show anything out of the ordinary.  And once he was behind his office door, he could talk to Sabine.  She would know what to do.

Chapter 5

Tags:

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[whotfamitho]

Alright I knew the whole hype for the rottmnt movie wasn't nothing but first I went with my gut and finished the series and my god I'm so glad I did

Lotta ranting and spoilers ahead for the season 2 finale

MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE THIS SERIES!!

It starts as wholesome funs and goofs but the further we go the more we realize there was a lotta thought behind it, they didn't introduce the plot till the last episodes of season 1 and even then we didn't know shit!

Amazing story, amazing character (and character choices) amazing fucking art style I'm so in love

I don't think I need to say anything about the story just that it's good really really good (2 reallys)

On the other hand I do wanna talk about the characters

Im in love with the turtles designs and the way it symbolizes their personalities so well and Leo's my favorite cuz compared to his brothers his look doesn't signify his strength or intelligence or even his childlike enthusiasm, he's perfect sized and has his cool stripes he's just perfect, except that he isn't he crack bad jokes and makes mistakes alot and that's not a bad thing he looks perfect but he's not and that simple detail makes him fit with his bros perfectly

Enough about Leo (I'm a little biased) i wanna talk about the show's loyalty to certain thing and it's bold decisions and I can go on on this topic for hour but I'll use the perfect example

CASEY FUCKING JONES yes the reveal caught me so off guard I had to pause for like a minute to process, I loved her from the beginning loved her energy but I wasn't sure if she's a plot centered charachter and I'm so glad she is I'm so happy the didn't introduce her from the start

(not saying that it wouldn't have been good if they did, we have April aka the best character ever to prove that her character design changes didn't effect me at all and I fell in love with her from the very first episode we need more badass poc girls in media and rotmnt DELIVERED)

I wish I could talk about how much I love Splinter and his arc but the post is getting long and I don't think anyone's gonna read this anyway

TL;DR the series is amazing one of the best animated series I've seen and I cant wait till I watch the movie and rant more lol

[merakiui]

What do you think of the concept of yan!xiao, childe venti trapping their darling in a teapot?

I feel like they would be less restrictive since the darling wouldn't necessarily be able to escape most likely, so they wouldn't worry about restraint much. Esp in Ventis case...he is the God of freedom so while his darling isn't exactly 'free' they're still kinda free in a way that they have their own world to be free in?

Xiao would probably be somewhat restricted, but only just keep them in the house because he probably wouldn't trust them to be by themselves yet--he figures they may try to run off and hide from him or something

Childe would probably let them try to "escape" on purpose and would be absolutely amused when his darling finds out they wouldn't be able to leave

(cw: yandere, captivity, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, mention of children and implied stockholm syndrome for childe’s part)

Venti doesn't exactly lie to you, but he does trick you. He's aware that it's not the nicest thing to do and that it's not exactly captivity if you're living in a world that resembles the one outside. Only this pocket-sized world is nicer and happier and there aren't any people to get in the way. He tells you about it when you're vulnerable. Maybe you're drunk or you're crying your eyes out because something horrible happened. Either way, you're not in the right state of mind when you make the comment: "I wish I could live in my own ideal world for just one day." And this is great news for Venti because it makes relocation so much easier.

He shows you the teapot and explains it briefly, leaving out certain details. It's better if you don't know everything about how the teapot works. After all, ignorance is bliss. Venti tells you how to get in, but he doesn't tell you how to get out. And the way he describes it makes it sound so tempting—as if living inside this teapot for a bit will cure whatever's bothering you. You decide it wouldn't hurt to spend a day or two inside the teapot to see the little world Venti holds in the palms of his hands.

It's a lot of fun at first. You and Venti glide from the top of the mountains in Emerald Peak, he sings melodious ballads as you look up at the sky, and the two of you play hide-and-seek inside of the house, playfully popping out of rooms and laughing when you’re caught. Eventually the charm wears off and you start to yearn for the outside world. It’s not the same in the teapot. As pretty and peaceful as it may be, it still feels so empty. And when you bring it up to Venti he finds small ways to change the subject. It probably plays out like this:

“Venti, I’d like to go home now.”

“But we were just about to play another round of hide-and-seek! Come on! Don’t be a spoilsport! One more round? Then we’ll leave.”

Or he’ll tell you that you’re already home. There’s always a big smile on his face when he says stuff like that. He’s happy that he gets to spend so much time with you and no one can interfere. But it does get annoying when you start to beg for the old world. Your pleas to leave will fall upon his deaf ears. Venti does feel a little bad when you start to sulk, but his sympathy is short-lived. Let’s not forget that you were the one who wanted this. You wanted to live in your ‘ideal world.’ And isn’t this ideal?

As an adeptus, Xiao is aware of Sub-Space Creation and the effort it takes to construct a presentable teapot. He’s been working hard on his ever since you came into his life. Before he knew you he didn’t have a reason to put effort into it because he stays at Wangshu Inn, but after he met you he started working a lot harder. He tries to make the teapot as comfortable as possible. You mentioned you like dogs or cats in passing? You can find a few in the teapot. You said you like berry bushes and flower fields? There’s a bunch in his teapot. He probably has a nearly perfect model of your room in there as well. Before he brings you into the teapot, he’ll often sit in that room and make sure everything replicates the original, down to the bed frame and the fabric used for the pillow case.

He’ll put some of your things in it just so it feels more personal. Xiao knows he’s stealing from you whenever he does this, but it’s not like you ever noticed anything was missing. Besides, it’s all going in the teapot anyways. You won’t even need your real room or mortal possessions anymore. Xiao is actually quite proud of the teapot and manages to fool himself into thinking you’ll like it, too. And you do (for the first few days, that is). He’s very forward with his question of whether or not you’d like to see his teapot. And you eagerly nod because the two of you are friends and Xiao wants to show you something he made and he looks a little…excited? There’s definitely light in his eyes when he gets your agreement to view the inside of his teapot.

Once you’re inside, you’re genuinely surprised. It’s far more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. The Floating Abode is a really gorgeous landscape. You’re so caught up in looking at the sunset and the flowers and the animals that roam the teapot that you aren’t aware of the horrors that lie just beyond. You’ll find the room that resembles yours in no time and it’s really creepy. As much as you try to tell yourself that Xiao means well and wouldn’t actually do something like this on purpose, it’s hard to ignore the fact that everything is practically identical to your room. It’s so, so strange. You want to ignore it, but you just can’t. It’s so obvious.

It’s definitely creepy, but you don’t have the heart to tell him.

You hold your tongue because you don’t want to hurt his feelings. You’re really the only close friend he has, so you’d feel bad if you insulted his interior decorating skills. Xiao’s pleased to hear that you like it so much. Praise falls from your lips like a waterfall and it gives him a sense of relief. He’s so happy that you like it and since you’re okay with it it’ll be fine if you live here. When he tells you that, your brain freezes and you’re not sure how to respond.

“Live here? Like…permanently?”

And to your shock he nods.

Xiao is far less lenient than Venti. With Venti everything feels like eternal, childish fun with the idea of freedom sprinkled in. But with Xiao it’s definitely a harsher form of captivity. You aren’t allowed outside because he’s worried you might fall off of the bridges that connect the floating islands or you might try to find your way out of the teapot. So you’re confined to the mansion. It’s got everything you could ever need and the interior design matches that of your home perfectly. Just treat it like it’s your own home and it won’t be so bad. You definitely try to see the good in this situation because you care about Xiao, but it’s so hard when he’s keeping you here like you’re just another addition to his teapot.

It’s miserable, but at least you can count on him to visit you every single day.

Childe is very receptive to the idea of owning his own little world in a small teapot. Maybe he was holding you captive before he came upon the teapot and while you’re sleeping he relocates you. You don’t expect to wake up in a new location, but you assume you’re still somewhere in Liyue. Childe finds it cute that you’re so startled, clearly confused with the change in scenery. And when you glance at the surroundings on the Cool Isle, it feels like you might have a chance. Childe seems to think so because he waves you off, telling you with the sincerest voice that you’re ‘free to go.’

You don’t need to be told twice and so you run because you’re invigorated. You can leave and he’s not coming after you. Childe doesn’t even raise his bow in warning. You’re actually leaving him and he’s letting you! But it feels too good to be true. A day passes and you learn that there’s no one else to help you. So you find an empty shack on the shoreline and you hide in it because survival is the only thing you know right now. And the day goes by, the night comes, and morning makes its arrival. You’re still safe. He hasn’t found you.

And it really feels like you can make it out of this. Even if there’s no one around, you can still find something to help you. You’d take anything at this point. By the end of the week, you’re losing sight of your goal and you really just want to head back to the mansion and nap on a comfortable bed. You’ve been catching the crabs and the fish and doing what you can to start a long-lasting fire. When Childe finds you, you’re so exhausted from running and hiding that you collapse into his arms. And he smiles so sweetly while he tells you something that shatters your entire world.

“You did well, comrade, but this isn’t Liyue. You have no need to run.”

It’s not even Teyvat. It’s another world entirely—one existing solely within a teapot. And everything comes crashing down when you realize just how impossible that makes any escape attempts. No human contact. No energy or life that comes from meeting with friends and seeing family. It truly does feel like you and he are the only people in this world.

Childe knows that you’ll adjust to this new world whether you like it or not. It was fun to toy with you in the beginning (and it still is) when you didn’t realize this was the world inside the teapot. But now he just wants to settle into a comfortable life. He takes every chance he has to visit you and eventually you’ll find yourself succumbing to the relaxing pleasures of domestic life. You learn how to cook delicious meals with Childe’s help, you collect seashells on the shore to cure your boredom, and you’ll take care of any chores or housework. It warms Childe’s heart to see you accepting this life.

Maybe the two of you can start a family. Maybe he should get a few pets to liven up the house. It’s not like you can get away from him while inside the teapot, so it’s a recipe for anything to happen. And you’ve come to learn that what happens in the teapot stays in the teapot.

[daydreaming-in-letters]

London Rain

Part 2

03/13/2021

Pairing: Henry Cavill x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,694

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving)

Summary: The reader finds herself in a lucid dream about some morning shenanigans with her man - or doesn't she?

A/N: I’m still over the moon about your feedback for the first part. It seemed this boosted my motivation so much that I was able to finish part two earlier than expected. Enjoy!

Part 1

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms. 

Waking up without him was the worst. Or was it falling asleep without him? She wasn’t able to decide. Yet, the hours in between were the only moments of solace, the only time when she wasn’t conscious and didn’t feel his absence. But sometimes even sleep wouldn’t bring her peace but torture her with the most vivid dreams instead. Only in the narrow time frame between sleeping and waking she wasn’t at the mercy of her longing since she had found that it was then that she could influence her dreams. 

The moment she opened her eyes, she knew that she found herself in one of those lucid dreams again when she saw the familiar view of his smiling face right before her. The vision was so clear that it almost scared her, so detailed and rich in colour that she could even make out the sparkle of pure elation in his steel blue orbs.

Carefully her hand reached out for him, afraid he might vanish into thin air as soon as she touched his face. But wondrously, he didn’t and soon she could feel the gruff stubble underneath the palm of her hand as the tip of her thumb slowly drifted across his moustache.

“I can’t believe you kept that thing.”

A deep chuckle escaped his chest and rolled through the small space between them.

“I can shave it off right now if that’s what you want.”

She took a moment, weighing his offer in her mind. If she told him to do it now, he would leave the bed, probably making her wake up and lose him to the morning once again. So, since this was just her imagination on the loose, why not simply go with it? 

Feeling very bold all of a sudden, she locked eyes with him and by the way he glanced back at her, she was sure he could already sense what was about to come.

“Maybe later. There is one thing I need to find out first.” She shot the Henry vision a seductive smile, burying her fingers in the lush locks that covered his pecs.

“And what might that be?” 

This was too easy. Why couldn’t this be real life?

“I think you know exactly what that is, Henry.”

The lust in his eyes was unmistakable, that hungry flame dancing in his dilated pupils. For a second she could have sworn that he would engage her lips in a heated kiss when suddenly it felt as if someone had altered her script. She had already closed her eyes in anticipation, but all she heard was a deep, “Very well then,” before he was gone.

With a frustrated sigh she turned on her back, letting the cool morning breeze hit her bare chest, making her shiver in the process. She felt stupid for making herself believe that just this one time it might have worked. But it was always the same. At some point she lost control and was hurled back into reality so violently that it gave her whiplash. 

Sulking and angry with herself, she refused to open her eyes, unable to face yet another morning without him. Two more days, it was only two more days, the voice inside her head chanted. Get a grip. 

And to her surprise the self-motivation actually seemed to work when out of nowhere she could feel two strong hands grip her ankles. With a sure touch that she knew all too well, they unrelentingly made their way up her shins, pushing her wide open once they reached her knees, coaxing an audible gasp from her lips.

But they didn’t stop yet and she noticed them travelling higher and higher, getting closer to her aching core inch by inch. Even before he had reached his destination, she could feel the telltale wet heat flood her womanhood. A soft moan escaped her lips as she shamelessly imagined his hungry eyes taking in her folds that glistened promisingly in the morning light.

Heat was rising from her lower body, setting her whole body on fire and when his hot breath finally rolled over her slit, she couldn’t help her walls from clenching around thin air. Unintentionally she braced herself for the impact, every second without his mouth on her seeming like an eternity. She could feel the frustration rise again. Should her imagination choose to betray her once again, in this very moment, she would never forgive herself. 

Pulse racing, her hands clenched into tight fists when finally she could feel his lips on her, releasing the most obscene moan from deep within.

God, this felt good, so familiar yet also with an exquisite touch every time his whiskers scraped her soft flesh. Knowing her inside out, his tongue played her expertly, every lick, every stroke designed to pleasure her just the way she desired.

Perfect was the only word that came to mind to describe the way he tended to her needs, his whiskers the cherry on top, as they stung and prickled in the best way possible while they stimulated her bud in turn with his tongue.

It didn’t take long before he sent her senses into overdrive and she could feel the point of no return approaching. She needed to feel him, immediately, needed to feel his soft locks between her fingers. And before she even knew what she was doing, her fingers wandered down her body. Of course she knew that there would only be the warm sheets to fist her hand into, but as long as her mind imagined his mouth on her so vividly, she didn’t mind pretending that small detail as well.

Fully expecting to close her fingers around the cool cotton, she almost yelped when her fingers actually made contact with a silky tuft of hair. In an instant her eyes shot open and her delusional mind needed a few seconds to register that this was far from a dream after all. 

Right where she had so desperately wanted him to be, he was lying between her legs in flesh and blood, his mouth eagerly lapping at her folds. And then the memory struck her like lightning. He had come home last night. She thought she had dreamed that up as well, but it had been real. He was here, he was really here.

And while she still tried to figure out how that was even possible, she could suddenly feel two fingers pressing up against her entrance. Teasing her a little, he let them drive up and down agonisingly slowly, clearing her mind of all thoughts apart from how desperately she wished to be filled by him.

Before she knew what she was doing, her fingers fisted down in his hair on their own accord. With a slight pull, they drew a heady moan from his throat, the extra stimulation making her dizzy as the vibration rolled over her heated sex, while in the same moment, he let his fingers finally sink into her until they were buried to the hilt.

Fuck, she was so close already and now that he had finally given her something to clench down upon, she could feel her walls tighten around his digits, a violent moan falling from her lips at the sensation. 

Her mind began to cloud over, yet one thought remained clear as day, shining like a beacon through the foggy mess of her mind: she needed him, needed to feel his eyes on her before she could finally let go and let herself be consumed by her lust.

“Henry.” His name fell from her lips like a silent prayer and his senses immediately seemed to catch on to the desperation in her voice. In an instant his eyes shot up to hers, blue as the raging sea, possessed by a hunger that mimicked her own and as they met her gaze, she could finally feel herself fall.

In pulsing waves her orgasm washed over her, her head spinning from the unusually high amount of pleasure. She could feel it falling back into the pillow with a thud, while his fingers and mouth kept working her through her high with a sure touch.

Almost imperceptibly slowly she could feel the surge even out, before he gently retreated from her throbbing core. Instead his lips began to tend to the soft skin of her belly, unhurriedly working their way up, touching and tasting every inch of her sweat-covered skin. Still too blissed out to even move, she watched as he stopped at her breasts for a while, licking and sucking her pebbled nipples, at this point as much for her pleasure as for his own.

He must have felt her eyes on him because he suddenly looked up, catching her staring.

“I missed these two.” 

His cheeky smirk elicited a hoarse chuckle from her throat that made his eyes shine wildly before his mouth finally continued its trail up her body. With a growl he dove into the crook of her neck, his whiskers leaving behind the most wonderful tickling sensation while he began to tend to her sweet spot.

“You know, Hen, I’ve been thinking,” she tried to press out with a steady voice while his teeth bit down gently onto her pulse point, sending a bolt of lightning through her lower body in the process.

“About what?” he muttered into her skin, refusing to leave his favourite spot.

“Maybe the stache can stay for a while.”

Instantly his head shot up and before she even saw his face, she knew that it was covered in a shit eating grin.

“Then I’ll make it my personal duty to ensure you won’t regret that decision.”

And as if to enforce his promise, his hard length suddenly twitched vigorously against her mound, forcing a moan from her lips which he was quick to smother with a searing kiss. Urgently his tongue began to dance with hers, his strong arms pulling her into him and while he continued to worship her body with his lips and hands, it slowly dawned on her that they probably wouldn’t leave the bed for the rest of the day.

[kittytual]

hiii here r my aini thoughts !! i meant to post this when i finished it two days ago but i wanted my thoughts to marinate before i rlly had like. any concrete opinions so here we go. spoilers under the readmore:

writing:

-okay so like .. i personally rlly enjoyed a majority of story beats including the twists. like the first game, i rlly enjoyed how every character is interconnected in some way, from chikara and tokiko being the parents of jin furue and experimenting on him and uru to chikara experimenting on three major characters, mizuki, bibi and shoma.

-amame going from a side character in the first game to the culprit in second game is just??? HELLO?4/$;!$2 in the best way ofc. i love a good revenge plot. hate how they arrested her tho,, god forbid women do anything

-i know some ppl have mixed thoughts on ryuki but i personally adore him fjshdjw i love his gay little crush on date. i don't ship them personally but yeah <3 i do wish that he was more involved w the story more?? like why just play as him in his route then completely throw him away in favor of mizuki only for him to have a rushed arc from date's motivational speech. WHERES HIS RECOVERY ARC I NEED IT ..... THEY DID HIM SO DIRTY

-speaking of which his and tama's dynamic is rlly good i preferred it over mizuki/aiba's. i do think it's kinda confusing tho bc she's meant to be a concerned mother figure to make up for his lack of one but also does like ??? kinky shit to him??? unless that's a joke idk

-also the death scare my behated. why did they do that. whyd they make me cry only for him to be brought back 😭

-mizuki is my daughter and i found her whole explanation for her strength rlly interesting but why overshadow ryuki,, Why

-i think the whole thing w the flowchart was cool but??? confusing af like there r still some things that don't exactly fit in line when u realize the mizuki we were playing as isn't okiura-date, but mizuki kuranushi/bibi

gameplay:

-the somniums r fun as always but also RLLY FRUSTRATING LIKE HELLO 😭 a lot of them play off of metaphors so sometiems it was hard for me to like. do things in a specific amount of time but i'm glad i was able to pull thru without a walkthru, esp since for the most part, i couldn't as the games still new. tokiko and chikara's somniums my behated

-i rlly rlly enjoy the new vr investigations, and having the characters investigate the crime scene and reenact it while in a space that allows u to not miss any details

-the scenes where u hafta like use specific commands to fight back against for example, naix members was Hell on switch. esp since my controllers drift often and i wasn't able to input the command the first time. also the fact that u hafta start the cutscene all over again 🥲

characters

-i mentioned the characters briefly in the previous sections but i rlly enjoyed seeing the returning characters w a fresh new coating of paint. the timeskip designs r rlly good as well

-the new chars r also rlly compelling and they managed to make a majority of side characters major key players in the story and im sure that's good news for a majority of side character likers

-as much as i miss date as a protag, i think his placement in the story as just some dude tryna ruin tearer's plan behind the scenes fits him fsr

-the only character i honestly hated was lien like i thought his whole thing abt not being a locksmith anymore ajd redeeming himself was fine but why???? him falling in love w a high schooler and somehow managing to get w her six years later even tho he literally STALKED her. it would have been fine if they knew each other after the timeskip ajd he didn't pull all that shit but noooooo. gen and amame's dynamic is alos super weird for the same reason like he sees her as a daughter but is??? in love w her???? wtf :[

soundtrack

-OH YEAH THERE R SOME RLLY GOOD TRACKS IN THIS GAME. specifically clue investigation, off the record, insane president, naix's intentions, sweet home, swinging fear, residence limo, recognized secrets, and distortion instigating

-i do think the first game's ost is better but idk i do think a lot of songs stick out

-half to whole>>>>>invincible rainbow arrow

misc

-like the first game i'm soooo confused abt date's whole thing w iris and mizuki?? like iris is initially the person he saw as his daughter and now it's mizuki which is fine but like ... iris being his daughter during his life as falco was never mentioned in the second game which. makes sense as it's a spoiler but still. why cant they both be his daughters and have it so that he lives w mizuki and iris lives w hitomi like how it is w amame and shoma. it's pretty clear that he still has a thing w her

-a lot of times my game was crashing which i guess is typical for a new game but ??? i rlly hope this fix this if i ever go for a replay

-i figured w date no longer the protag, there'd be less anime bullshit/sex jokes/weird age gaps but i guess not :[ like whys there two possible relationships that involve a high schooler and an adult (even in the context of the time skip, it's weird as they met them as high schoolers) and moma still being weird towards iris like. Why

overall thoughts

despite the many critiques i have abt the game, i do think it's a rlly good sequel. is it better than the first game? i don't think so, but i still enjoyed it and any critique of the game i've seen so far has been warranted. i just hope that if there's ever a sequel, they answer specific questions (ex. mizuki's real parents), don't prioritize certain characters that leads to other characters not being as fleshed out, and tone down the horny bullshit. 9/10 may play again

[oneisallallisone]

All I Know, All I Know Greedling x Reader fic Chapter 2

In a land ruled by alchemy, there are some who would call you a sorcerer. You intend to understand what this means. Along your journey you end up getting mixed up with two strange brothers, a military conspiracy, a potentially world-ending event, and the avarice of something more than human.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

_______________________________________________________________________

All I Know, All I Know

Chapter 2: The Agreement

The metal boy remained very still. But the blonde boy burst into sudden laughter. 

“A-a sorcerer?” he stammered. “Come on, I thought you were going to tell me the truth. Sorcerers don’t exist.” 

“Your companion said it himself,” you argued, “I didn’t perform any transmutations. You both saw. Whatever this is, it’s not alchemy.” 

“Yeah, well, the concept of sorcery spits right in the face of alchemy!” the blonde shot back. “Alchemy follows the law of equivalent exchange, in order to obtain something you must give up something of equal value. These are the laws of the universe as much as they are the laws of alchemy, and nothing can bypass the laws of the universe. Unless…” 

There was a sharp intake of breath from the suit of armor as his companion’s voice trailed off. “A Philosopher’s Stone.” 

The blonde boy grinned almost wickedly. “You have one, don’t you?” 

“A what?” you asked. 

He took a step closer to you. “A Philosopher’s Stone. An all-powerful artifact from legend that ignores the laws of equivalent exchange and allows its user to will practically anything into existence. You have one, right?” 

You took a step back. A heavily charred book crumpled to ashes near your feet .“No. I carry no such stone.” 

“Liar.” 

“I swear!” 

“There is no such thing as a sorcerer!” 

“Brother,” the armored boy placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, halting his steps towards you. “Many people say that there’s no such thing as a Philosopher’s Stone either. Maybe on our hunt for the impossible, it makes sense that we run into something else impossible too.” 

Your gaze shifted to the metal boy. His fixed expression was that of a cold, unchanging helmet, but his voice had been soft when he spoke. And you could have sworn he gave you the slightest bit of a nod when your eyes met his. 

The blonde considered his brother’s words for a moment, his eyes still studying you. Your hand had traveled up to the collar of your bearskin cloak, as it so often did when you felt nervous. The violet energy was gone now, but you felt it lapping just beneath the surface of your skin, ready to spring forth if you felt even the slightest bit more threatened. 

“What’s your name?” the blonde finally asked. 

“I am (y/n).”

“(y/n),” he repeated. “I’m Edward Elric, and this is my brother Alphonse. I think we can help each other out.” 

The agreement was simple. The Elrics would help you try to figure out the nature of your abilities, and in return you would assist them in their pursuit of their goals. Just another equivalent exchange, as Ed would say. 

You’d learned that the brothers were in search of a way to get their old bodies back—Ed having lost an arm and a leg, and Al having lost his entire body in a horrific alchemical accident. When pressed further about the details surrounding the accident, both of the brothers became very quiet. Sometimes it felt like learning the truth about them was going to be as impossible as learning the truth about yourself. 

“Ed?” You called as you knocked on the door of the brothers’ hotel room. “Al? Are you in there?” 

Several days had passed since the three of you had spoken with a woman named Sheska—a former employee at the National Central First Branch, who offered to provide transcripts of all the research the Elrics were looking for—and, after sitting alone in your room and reading for days, you found yourself at a dead end. The books you’d borrowed from the National Central Main Library hadn’t given you any insight into your powers at all. 

The door opened slowly, and you were greeted by the sight of Al. “Oh, hey (y/n). What’s going on?” 

He moved aside for you to enter the room. You nodded at him, sinking onto the couch once you were inside. “I haven’t been able to uncover anything. If there is any written record of other individuals with abilities like mine, it’s not in the Main Library.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Al said, sitting on the other couch across from you. 

“Eh, it just means I have to start looking elsewhere, I suppose,” you said. “What about you and Ed? Have you made any progress?” 

“I wish we hadn’t.” A door had opened near the small kitchenette. Edward came walking into the room, his hair down instead of in the usual braid it was normally tied back in. His eyes were downcast, dark bags hanging on the skin underneath. 

“You look terrible,” you said. 

“Wonderful to see you too again, (y/n).” He took a seat next to Al. 

“I take it you…didn’t find what you were expecting?” 

The brothers were silent for a while. The room was dim, filled with low candle light and the aura of the moon. A cool wind ruffled the curtains of the open window. 

“No.” Al stated simply. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. “If it means anything, I found absolutely nothing of what I hoped for. So you’re already doing better than me, at least.”  

Ed forced out a bitter laugh. “I’m not so sure about that, (y/n). I’m really not so sure.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means, well…” Al’s voice trailed off. He looked down to his older brother, and Ed gave him a short, resigned nod. “It means that we did find something. But it’s horrible. It’s making us sick to think about.” 

“What is it?” you pressed. 

A silence fell over the room again. 

You softened your voice the next time you spoke. “We made an agreement with each other. You help me, and I help you. You’ve already given me my own room to stay in while I’m in Central, and you’ve checked out books from the Main Library for me. You’ve helped me, so…let me help you.” 

For the first time since walking into the room, Ed’s eyes met yours. “We were successful in deciphering Dr. Marcoh’s notes. The Philosopher’s Stone isn’t just a myth, it’s real. But the main ingredient to make them is human life.” 

Your stomach dropped just as another cool wind wafted into the room. “Oh…oh no.” You were shaking your head. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” 

Ed just shrugged in response. Al had closed his eyes, the usual red pinpricks of light beneath his helmet gone. It felt like you were an outsider, watching this grief you could not understand. Yes the revelation about the ingredients of a Philosopher’s Stone was horrific, but you knew that whatever sinking emotion it caused was only amplified by the agony of why the brothers needed the Stone in the first place. A reason that they still had not even whispered to you yet. 

You didn’t understand the weight of what they were going through. But you could tell it was crushing. And they needed their space. 

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.” Slowly you stood up from the couch and made your way to the door. You glanced back once before slipping into the hallway, eyes searching over the brothers yet again. Al still had not opened his eyes. Ed was curling up on his side. 

At some point you registered a loud banging on your door. 

“(y/n)!” the voice called. “(y/n), open up!” 

Having not bothered to change into pajamas that night, you sprung from your bed fully clothed and rushed to the door. A wide-eyed Edward Elric stood there on the other side, with Alphonse right behind him. 

“Good, you’re awake,” Ed said, pushing into the room. 

“Yeah, I am now,” you half grumbled. “What time is it?” 

“Early.” 

“Is everything alright?” you knew the answer was objectively, probably, no. But after the state you had left the boys in, you felt it was only proper to ask. 

Ed turned to you, his expression surprisingly very different from where you last left him on the couch. His eyes were alight with that usual spark you had come to recognize, and his mouth curled upwards in a grin. “We have a hunch. There might be more to the truth about the Philosopher’s Stone than meets the eye, and we know where to go to investigate more.” 

“Okay?” 

“Brother is trying to ask if you’d be willing to come with us,” Al said. 

You looked back and forth between the boys. “Where exactly would we be going?” 

“There’s an old building that was designed to be a government laboratory not too far from here,” Ed explained. “It’s supposedly been classified as ‘off limits’ for a long time due to structural imbalances, but it might be hiding something beneath the surface. Al and I think we can find more information about the Philosopher’s Stone there.” 

“Why? I thought you were giving up on your search for it after learning what the main ingredient was.” 

“It’s like Dr. Marcoh told us,” Ed said. “We have to search for the truth within the truth. There could still be more about the Stone we don’t know, and we can’t pass this up.” 

You leaned an elbow back against the counter. “And you want me to come with you because…?” 

Ed shrugged. “Maybe you could find something there too.” 

“Plus we might be in need of your powers,” Al said. “Brother and I have a tendency to run into trouble, and we have no idea what we could find at this laboratory. One more person with us might help even our odds.” 

You thought about it for a moment. “This building. You said it was ‘off limits,’ right?” 

“Yup,” Al said. 

“And you intend to poke around to see if you can unveil some secrets that are potentially  hidden inside a government building, and you’re asking me if I’m willing to trespass with you?” You thought back to your home in Drachma. How the Briggs mountains were so close, though it was never safe enough to go to them. “Do you have any idea what could happen to me if your government officials find a Drachman citizen just casually breaking into a restricted municipal facility?” 

Ed’s grin widened into a smirk. “That just means we won’t have to get caught.” 

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

You know how we have pet costumes? Give Jacob one, make him a cute space cowboy😈😈😈

WE'RE BACK BABY

Please enjoy this little ficlet (that was actually my 3rd attempt to write a fluffy ficlet for this universe because all the other ones kept becoming future chapters lmao)

--

“This is humiliating. I look like sheriff Woody or something.”

“Aw, I was thinking more like John Wayne Gacy, you know?”

“The...the clown serial killer…?”

Angie pursed her lips. “Wait, who was the cowboy guy in all the old movies? Like, before Clint Eastwood and whatever.”

“That’s John Wayne. Not John Wayne Gacy,” Jacob tugged at the sleeves of his costume and readjusted his cowhide vest. “And I don’t feel anywhere near as cool as him right now.”

She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose. “That’s because you’re not cool. You’re a grown man playing dress up with a kindergartener.”

“So are you.”

Angie straightened her Native American headpiece and threw one of her braided pigtails behind her. “Yeah, but I know it’s stupid, so therefore I’m doing it ironically which makes me cool.”

Jacob sighed heavily but didn’t argue further, instead tugging his cowboy hat down further to shield his face that burned with embarrassment. Being forced into having playdates with his captor’s coworker was nothing new. He had spent plenty of time being Mibao’s sole playmate aboard the ship, doing the best he could to keep the six year girl entertained and not too psychologically damaged. Being the youngest in a sibling group of only boys, he was a bit rusty when it came to knowing anything about kids. Thankfully, Mibao was more than happy to take him by the hand and show up all the “fun” things she used to either do back home or what she would now do with her “kitty”.

Today’s game of choice was dress up. Every day felt like dress up when it came to the girl’s ever expanding wardrobe; she was always dressed in an obnoxiously puffy and sparkling princess dress fashioned with ribbons and bows galore and always with a matching crown. Fine, no big deal, he could slap a tiara on his head and call it a day, he’d worn worse at the few fraternity parties he attended during college. Nope, not good enough. Mibao had a very specific game she wanted to play which involved him wearing a cowboy costume of all things. A very realistic and detailed cowboy costume, assless chaps and spurs and all. Again, he could...handle it for the most part. The only thing that really bothered him about it was all the coos and giggles he received from both his and Mibao’s captors when he finally came out in his new outfit.

And he knew for a fact they took many, many pictures of him.

It didn’t end there, Mibao still had more requests. Angie needed to join in as well and she was required to be an “indian princess” to partake. Naturally, she was more than happy to agree if it meant getting a break from the absolute nightmare of a captor she had been saddled with. So, now Jacob had to deal with the fact that she would have to watch him play pretend in this ridiculous getup. He could never catch a break with her, it seemed, she always had to catch him when he was in the middle of doing something cringe worthy. She didn’t even look half as uncomfortable as him and she was literally wearing half as much clothing.

Or maybe that was exactly why she was so comfortable as she sauntered up to him, making a finger pistol to tip his hat away from his face. “Cheer up, partner,” she teased. “I think it makes you look cute.”

“I think it makes me look like Owen Wilson from the museum movie,” Jacob replied, hoping the shadow of the brim hid his reddening cheeks.

“Oh my God, you are a tiny little twink cowboy, huh?”

“I’d rather be the gladiator guy.”

“You wish you could pull off being the gladiator guy.”

A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue when Mibao made her appearance from behind the monitor where she had been changing. This time instead of her usual princess attire, she was dressed...pretty much the same, only this time she had a tiny pair or iridescent fairy wings attached to the back. What a fairy had to do with cowboys and indians, he hadn’t the faintest idea. She stopped when she saw the two of them and stuck out her tongue in childish disgust.

“Eww, stop kissing!” She scolded. “You can kiss the princess later, Jake, it’s time to play!”

Jacob had never been more grateful in his life that the creatures idly watching them couldn’t understand English because he just might have died if they heard. He could feel the heat radiating from his nape to his cheeks, putting his hands up in defense like it could keep Angie away from him.

“Wh-no! We weren’t, we weren’t kissing, Reagan, w-we-!”

Angie only cackled, her amusement stemming more from Jacob’s panicked response than the actual accusation of giving him a kiss. “Yeah, cowboy, you can kiss me later.” She winked and nudged him with her elbow as she walked past to where Mibao was waiting.

He groaned, tugging the hat down as far as it would go even if that meant obscuring his vision somewhat. That was totally fine, he didn’t want to look at anyone right now and he did not want to be perceived either. The child was leading them back over to her designated play area scattered with art supplies and stuffed toys for where they’ll play their game of make believe. Angie was already sitting on her knees by the time he shuffled over and beckoned him with a sly smile to come take a seat on the ground next to her. Jacob obliged, but refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing his beet red face.

As soon as they were settled, Mibao immediately launched into the exposition of the scene they would be putting on, including their roles and superpowers (that only she had because she was a magical fairy queen). Jacob was only half listening; the kid usually forgot half of her own rules in the middle of playing anyways because she wanted to change the story and it wasn’t that hard to follow her game of make believe. Instead, he kept side-eying Angie, who was side-eying him back, and every time they made eye contact she would smile and bump his shoulder with hers.

This was going to be a long playdate.

--

The lab door slid open as Talan walked in, peeling off his bloodied gloves to dispose of them in Ylva’s waste bin. “I need my human back.”

“Aw, why? They’re all having a ball together!” Ylva frowned, gesturing to the miniature trio on her desk. Well, the smallest one and Talan’s pet seemed like they were having a good time, namely at the expense of the other human in a hat. They all seemed to stop at the interruption, his human fixing him with a sneer that he was tempted to match.

“What the fuck is it wearing?” He asked, ignoring all the little protests he got when he grabbed it and plucked the stupid looking feather thing of its head. “I thought you said it’s not nice to torment the humans.”

Edix scoffed at him, though his annoyance was more from Talan being in his general vicinity than anything. “It’s not torment. They were having fun.”

Talan did not look convinced in the slightest, his eyes sweeping over the pup who was pouting at him for taking away its playmate and the other who froze any time he breathed in its direction. Like owner, like pet, he assumed as it seemed to unconsciously inch closer to where Edix’s hand was resting for a better sense of security. Pathetic. At least his pet had a bit more self respect and wasn’t afraid to try and stab him in the hand with his own tools. Of course, it got a sharp flick to the stomach to knock it off, but he could appreciate the gumption.

Talan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, looks like a real party. So sad to have missed it.”

“Like you’ve ever been to a party to know what it looks like.”

“Says the one that only hangs out with plants.”

“Okay,” Ylva interjected, rising from her chair and scooping up her adorable little human. “You’re right, we should probably wrap this up, Mibao’s going to need a nap soon and she likes to fight her naps when she’s excited.”

That was all the excuse Talan needed to dip out without a formal goodbye, though it didn’t escape the corner of his eye how Edix’s human took a half step forward when he left, almost like it wanted to say something. Even if it did, he wouldn’t have cared. As quickly as he had intruded, Talan disappeared back down the main hall of the fauna department to return to his lab.

Edix stood up as well and tucked the data pad he had been keeping busy with under his arm to keep his hands free. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much closer his little pet was standing to him, even if it wasn’t by much, even though it was caused by Talan of all bastards. A win was a win in his book. The hand the human had been partly hiding behind curled easily around it to lift it up, immediately cradling it to his chest as usual. It squirmed for a moment but settled quick enough, a clear sign it was also ready to go back to the lab it was accustomed to. For a social species, the little one always seemed so drained after any playdate Ylva arranged for their pets. Fine by him, it usually meant his human was much more quiet and well behaved once it was back in the solitude of Edix’s company, making for an easier work day.

He used his finger to tilt back the wide brimmed hat it had been using to hide its sweet little face a majority of the playdate, earning him a surprised squeak. With the way its baby cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink, Edix had a fairly good guess as to why it was trying to avoid everyone’s line of sight. Damn, he should have had Ylva take more pictures, this was way too cute for him. It reached up to quickly pull its shield back down and Edix let it with a laugh, cooing as he tugged at its little vest instead which only made it wriggle in distress. Overdramatic little thing.

“Can I keep this costume?” He asked as he followed behind Ylva who was preparing to put her own pup down for a nap. In reality, it meant she was going to have to play with it for at least another half an hour because, much like him, she was a sucker when it came to her human wanting to play. The difference being that Mibao wanted to do anything from coloring to singing to continuing its game of make believe while Edix’s pet always wanted to play chase.

Ylva smiled and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it’s not like it’s going to fit the baby. It was printed for its measurements specifically, anyways.” Mibao was proving to be difficult in its refusal to relinquish the shiny wings Ylva had designed at its request, something that Ylva quickly made a game out of by setting her pup on the desk and letting it squeal and run while her hands chased after it. That would tire the kid out in no time. She looked back at his human and giggled. “I don’t think it likes it very much, though.”

Oh yeah, that was obvious from the get go, but it didn’t change the fact that it was way too precious for its own good in this type of outfit. Edix actually quite liked the contrast of the dark brown against its pale skin, even more given the fact that it matched the color of its doe eyes perfectly. It was much more appealing than that splotchy green jacket it was inexplicably attached to. He had a feeling it was going to try and strip out of this outfit as soon as it was back in Edix’s lab, provided he gave it its normal suit and jacket to change into. But...maybe he didn’t have to offer it its spare set of clothes right away. Maybe it would just have to hang around in its little boots and hat for a couple hours longer while he finished up his latest report that was just so important to get done. And maybe he would get constantly distracted by how cute it looked while it was definitely pouting at him for not taking off its costume that it took a little longer than usual to finish his work, which meant it spent even longer pouting under its hat.

Decisions, decisions.

Edix waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll learn to love it.”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be mean to it,” Ylva laughed, not that seemed bothered by the idea of his pet keeping the outfit on for an extended period of time beyond the playdate. “But send pictures if you do.”

[ladyyatexel]

I Went On A Manga Binge

So you don't have to

For those of you who have wisely avoided the shreds of it I've left around the blog thus-far, I had some weird notion to go re-experience Yu-Gi-Oh uuuuuh a week ago? We'll go with that. Time is meaningless.

I'd been able to read a good portion of the early manga at the end of highschool, and somewhere in my stacks and stacks of paper is fanart from this dark time, so you know I cared. I also still own a Dark Magician action figure somehow, so. I'd also watched a large portion of the anime with my brother because it had been laced with some kind of crack and we couldn't look away? I remember when we both were just like shit, wait, don't change the channel, I can't stop looking at it. And the next thing we knew we were waiting for new episodes and I was doing research on the Japanese original because I was that kid.

Anyway, unnecessary backstory out of the way, here are some... let's call them Observations and Consequences of having read somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 chapters (and growing) of a manga primarily hinged on card games from a spectrum of sources ranging from boringly lawful to sketchy as fuck.

Surprise actual character that develops in typical shounen fashion being Jounouchi. My limited experiences with the 4Kids dub and only early manga had not painted him in a particularly good light. I don't know if episodes were being aired out of order or if I had just missed the ones that established that he was making shit up as he was going along, but Wow I liked him a lot more going through the manga than I ever did watching the (dubbed, heavily edited and censored and thrown into a slurry machine) anime. I'd managed to come out with the impression that he was just as reasonably experienced with the game as Yugi back in the day. Wild.

I'm now reading every single comic-style post on Tumblr backwards.

Striking inverse to first point, wow, I don't like Seto Kaiba. Though he gets points for his general philosophy of the future, and the line I read in my sketchy online combo of scans and scanlations in which he said, "If God is in your way, you run him down," was Metal As Fuck. I somewhat shame-facedly admit to enjoying him a lot more as an Abridged Series character. (I watched Abridged as it came out back in the day! The experience of watching the anime with my brother had been so fresh that I got all the in jokes about the way things were edited and dubbed, it was great. Series remains influential part of my life to this day, which is hella weird.)

I almost understand how Duel Monsters works now. I don't want this.

That said, wow a lot of the decisions made in the anime made everything a lot more ridiculous than the admittedly already ridiculous original. I got the distinct feeling in the manga that the Duelist Kingdom stuff we were seeing was designed to be used and exploited in ways that don't make sense in an actual cardgame just played on a table like a normal person and this was part of testing everyone to think higher, differently. Maybe this is obvious to everyone already, I don't know. I had always liked that it was very, 'Not so fast, I'm going to blow up the moon to change the tides,' but I'm not really sure the anime gave enough explanation that this was an extra layer added to things for that event? You can see people actively getting used to it in the books, and people who aren't considering the real or 3D nature of it getting owned, but my memory of anime version is everyone just like, 'oh, shucks, fuck me, I forgot to consider the phase of the moon before i played this card, can't believe I forgot.' No one calls Yugi on any of this stuff because it's valid play in that situation. Plus Yami Yugi had mad trickster energy in the beginning and it suited him to think of ways to do things inside these little simulation boxes the way it suited him to set perverts on fire. I imagine the real card game trying to emulate this element as something that would be to its detriment, but I neither know nor particular care haha

Ryou Bakura.

Really, though. I think he became kind of casualty of 'wow, we have a lot of characters who really aren't able to do anything in this story anymore,' despite the fact that his whole inner life could have been as interesting as Yugi's. I always like thinking about the possibilities of stories in which main character falls into magical world and is given magical item and told they're the hero and then they find out they've been the bad guy the whole time. The first several volumes of manga were about the quiet weirdo kid that no one talked to who was always blacking out and turning into a fucked up version of himsef because he was so attached to his ancient Egyptian jewelry, so like, Bakura could have much the same shit going on. I want to know what's happening with him so much. He clearly doesn't love being possessed, but he's also so drawn to the ring. Despite it having stabbed him at least twice and him knowing it's a danger to him and his friends, he keeps being pulled back into it. You see so much more of him being like, 'Oooh, a creepy thing, I love that! :D' in the manga than ever in the anime, which I'm all about. Also more blood. I'm very about that as well. Though my memory of the anime also made it look very much like normal regular daily Bakura was just a weird facade in places before he ever would have been. I think that was it trying to compensate for what people didn't see from the Toei anime, but okay whatever, that I love everything about this guy is not news, I don't need to talk about Bakura excessively here, I'm pretty sure that's gonna show up on my blog by itself

On a related note though, damn, more of these people need to talk to each other. Can we have some existential crisis support clubs or something. Can we get like some apologies or something? "I respect you as a duelist." "Cool, but you literally built a tower designed to specifically assassinate me and my friends? You were supposed to get Better after I retaliated by putting you in a coma, but you kinda didn't." "Why would the coma have made it better" "I just told you it didn't" ---- "Sorry I went along with the plan of your evil parasite stabbing you, misled you, and then also jumped in and took up some real estate in your head too." "I understand, I also have an evil thing inside me that does things while I'm blacked out." "...no, I was conscious for all of that." "Oh." "..." "..." "..." "Do you like Ouija Boards?" "sure okay" ETC. Like damn we are reading shounen manga because no one is talking extensively about their feelings here and I'm tapping my foot angrily.

Holy shit there are so many mythologies happening at once. The ancient family guarding the Egyptian Pharaoh has a surname that's a Mesopotamian goddess. None of the god cards make any Egyptian sense except Ra, and just like. Baaarrrrely. Somewhere either Evil Ring Bakura or Mar/lik makes a reference to cremation and spirits being taken to heaven with smoke which several things, but definitely not Ancient Egyptian. Marik/Malik meanwhile is clearly trying to head Arabic, along with Rishid, but then, hey, our sister is just Isis. Goddess McGoddess. Sometimes they're the same goddess! Her name could be Isis Isis or Ishtar Ishtar. Meanwhile, all the obviously 'occult because Christians think it is freaky' stuff. ~ancient egyptian pentagrams~~~This isn't a complaint, I guess so much as a 'Wow, I can kind of see the cultural spot the author was coming from and where he was aiming' kind of thing.

Wonder where things would have gone if the card games had not been latched onto the way they were.

Managed to forget how gross the pre-cardgames stuff was on the sexual harassment front. I'm glad there was a sort of explanation of everyone drifting away from being dick heads and that that decision was made. It got way more comfortable to read after no one was bringing Yugi p*rn on VHS.

Yugi looks better with a nose, glad we got that upgrade.

Interesting to watch the series style shift as it goes away from being horror to being over the top cardgames and friendship (with blood!). The first picture of Mokuba is fucking Jarring. Also noticed that the nicer a character is, the less their teeth are defined.

Glad manga did not go as completely off the fucking the rails about Marik's face. I never got as far as seeing him back in the day because college occurred, but I remember seeing pictures and stuff and being like, "what in the Fuck happened to that dude, I think the house style has collapsed in on itself"

Things the author Really Likes: motorcycles, belts, SHOES, holy shit the shoes. These are some of the most lovingly rendered sneakers I've ever seen. All the detail on his characters goes straight to their feet and then it's stretched upward until it forms stiff peaks. Gently fold in 3000 years of trauma and bake face down in a crumb coat of scattered mythology. Remove when you roll two zeros.

Where the fuck am I going to put the extremely large omnibus volumes of this comic I purchased in order to balance out how much I would be reading for free on the internet. I should have grasped that a three in one edition would be Thick and yet somehow I was still :O when it arrived. Have I strategically purchased volumes that contain my favorite parts, maybe, what's it to you will i eventually get the whole thing because incomplete book series gnaw on my soul? yes

Wish the transition from "I've murdered several people in delightfully karmic ways" to "all you need is friendship in your heart and cards in your hand" Yami Yugi/Pharaoh had been discussed more/transitioned better. Buddy, where did you get this approved for television high horse? Please go back to strangling people with yo-yos or at least tell me why you stopped.

I still can't tell anything that looks like a big robotic monster apart from any other big robotic monster. My dude, I can't tell cars apart, all these monsters look the same.

Yami Yugi fascinated me way more in highschool? Maybe because it was still super early and the anime was like 'we need to torture you about his origins WeEkLy. Now I'm just like 'wait hold on, can we go back to Bakura and Marik for a minute, there's some extreme unpacking to do here?' Those two are paying so much more in baggage fees here my guy wow

Violently uninterested in any of the spinoff media

[phykios]

volcano kiss scene but make it medieval, for @perseannabeth 💙 note that this is little more than a fancy rewrite, but... marble king verse is too good to be done with completely

***🌊***🌊***🌊***

June, 1446

As Percy led his little band of adventurers through the tunnels of the Labyrinth, himself, his questing partner Ana Zabeta, his childhood companion Aegidius, and his half-brother, the cyclops Tison, following a marvelously clever creation of the god of fire, he allowed himself, for a brief moment, to feel a small sense of pride. They had finally located a deity who not only did not appear to have any negative designs on their characters, but had also promised them his help--after they had performed him a small favor, of course. 

Hephaestus had fashioned for them a little spider made of metal, who moved about as though it had a beating heart, darting this way and that, nearly invisible, were it not for their torchlight flickering off its shiny, shiny legs. Though he would never speak it aloud, Percy felt a particular kind of pride on Annabeth’s behalf, as she followed the eight-legged creature with neither complaint nor fear. He knew full well just how totally she detested the beasts, her eternal and forsworn enemies, just as their mother had been an enemy of Athena. 

They rounded a corner, moving from a passageway lined with a strange, shiny substance which felt cool to the touch to one of crudely-cut stone, when he spotted a tunnel off to the side, dug from raw earth, wrapped in thick roots which pried their way through the holes in the stones. Aegidius had noticed it as well, slowing his pace until he stopped entirely in front of the dark, gaping maw in the wall. “Aegidius,” Percy said, stopping as well. “What is it?”

It was as if he had not heard him. The satyr merely gazed into the black tunnel, his curly hair rustling in an impossible breeze.

“We cannot delay!” said Annabeth. “We must keep moving!”

“This is the way,” Aegidius muttered, hushed and reverent. “It is here.”

He couldn’t possibly mean… “The way to Pan?”

But Aegidius ignored him, turning instead to Tison, the creature whose very nature often rendered him speechless with fear. “Do you not smell it, too?”

“Yes,” said Tison. “Earth. The forest.”

Before them, the spider skittered further down the stone corridor. If they delayed any further, the trail would be lost to them. 

“Once we have finished our errand for Hephaestus,” said Annabeth, “then we can return for Pan, I swear it.”

“The tunnel will have gone by then,” said Aegidius, with a confidence Percy had rarely seen before. “A door such as this will not remain open for long--and I must enter it.”

“But,” she said, desperate, “the forges!”

He looked at her sadly, but firmly. “I cannot go with you this time, Annabeth.”

Percy had forgotten--Aegidius was not only his companion. He had been Annabeth’s as well. He had been responsible for seeing her safely over the magical boundary in Sigeion. But the spider was nearly out of sight, and they could not tarry any longer before the gateway to the god. “We will continue to the forges,” he decided. “Aegidius, you go on to seek Pan.”

“No!” she gasped. “It is far too dangerous. If we part ways, we might never find each other again! And I cannot let you go alone.”

It was then that Tison, gentle creature he was, put his hand on Aegidius’ shoulder. As much fear as satyrs held for cyclops, Tison, for some odd reason, held just as much, if not more, for the satyrs. They had made an amusing pair at times, two of the sweetest, kindest people Percy had ever known, cowering in fear at the other. But Tison showed no fear now. Now, he was brave. “I shall go with him.”

Percy could not believe his ears. “You will?”

He nodded. “The satyr needs help. We shall find the god of the wild--together.”

Aegidius took a deep, steadying breath. “I wish I could see this through to the end with you, but--”

“I understand,” said Percy. The search for Pan was his life’s goal, the final prize in a quest which had taken his father, his father’s father, and so many searchers before him. If he did not succeed on this journey, the Council of Cloven Elders would never give him another chance. “I pray that you are right.”

Shoulders square, suddenly possessed of a confidence Percy had rarely ever seen from him, save for when he deliberated on how keftedes paled in comparison to spanakopita, he grinned. “I know that I am.”

Percy took a heartbeat to gaze on him one last time, imprinting him in his memory--just in case. “Be careful,” he told him. Then, he looked towards Tison, and opened his arms to his half-brother, who went into them willingly, squeezing Percy so strongly his eyes just about burst from his sockets. 

Tison and Aegidius then disappeared into the darkness of the tree roots, lost to the wild. 

“This was a mistake,” said Annabeth, her voice trembling. “We should not have let them go.”

“We will see them again,” Percy replied, attempting to summon Aegidius’ confidence. “Now, come on. The spider will not wait for us any longer.”

“Do not remind me,” she said, shuddering.

Before very long, the tunnel grew warmer, the stone walls red and glowing. The air felt as though they were walking through a giant oven, as though they had been transported into one of the forges beneath the villa for Hephaestus’ children, and he supposed, in a way, that they had. The tunnel sloped down, deeper into the earth, the spider nearly tripping over itself to reach the bottom, Annabeth right behind it.

Percy jogged to catch up. “Annabeth!” he called. “A moment?”

She glanced back at him, but did not cease her quick pace, forcing Percy to match her. “Yes?”

“I have a… question,” he panted, “regarding what Hephaestus… said, about your mother.” 

“She swore never to marry,” Annabeth said, easily. Curses, Annabeth did not appear to be even remotely out of breath. He felt like such a fool compared to her, always. “She is one of the maiden goddesses, alongside Artemis and Hestia.”

Percy frowned. He had not recalled that detail about the war goddess--though, he was rather infamous for nodding off during lessons. Perhaps he had simply slept through that particular lesson. “But, if she is a maiden goddess, then--”

“How is it she came to have demigod children?”

Blushing, he nodded. 

Now, this was not at all appropriate conversation, he knew. Young boys and girls were not meant to discuss such things with each other--not yet anyway. But Percy was nearly a man, and besides, he had spent enough time with Carlos and the older boys at the agoge to pick up a few pieces of knowledge here or there. Hopefully, Annabeth would think the flush on his cheeks was due to the heat of the cavern. 

“Do you know how Athena was born?” she asked him. 

“She was born from… the head of Zeus? In armor?”

“Precisely. She was literally born from his thoughts--and thus, her children are born the same way. When Athena falls in love with a mortal partner, it is a purely intellectual affair, just as it was with Odysseus in the epic tales. Our mother says that it is the truest kind of love.”

“So,” said Percy, frowning. “Your father and Athena… you were not--”

“I was born from their minds,” she interrupted, quickly. “Sprung from the divine thoughts of my mother and the mortal ingenuity of my father. Her children are gifts, blessings on the mortals she favors.”

“But--”

She turned to him, exasperated. “Percy, the spider has nearly vanished. Do you really wish for me to explain the precise details of my birth?”

Flushing even harder, he snapped his jaw shut.

Victorious again, she smirked. “I thought not.”

Running ahead to catch their guide, Percy followed, very neatly put in his place, and not certain he would ever be able to look at his friend the same way ever again. Some things, he decided, were perhaps better left as mysteries.

After another few minutes or so, they emerged into a cavern, larger than any stadium Percy had ever seen. It felt to be five times the size of the mighty Colosseum. There was no floor, just miles of bubbling lava beneath their feet. Standing on a rock ride which encircled the cavern, Percy saw a complex, overlapping network of metal bridges spanning the width of it, meeting on a huge platform in the center which housed the largest anvil he had ever seen, a block of iron the size of a villa. Dark, strange shapes moved about them, like formless shadows, too far away to discern what manner of creature they might be. 

“We cannot sneak up on them,” said Percy, noting the distinct lack of places to hide with some despair. 

With a slight grimace, Annabeth picked up their metal guide, its form having changed to a small ball, and slipped it into a fold in her dress. “I can. Wait here.”

“Hang on--” But Percy was too late, as Annabeth put on her magical cap, a gift from her mother, and vanished from his sight. 

Percy cursed. He did not dare call after her, not willing to draw attention to her tactics, but nor did he appreciate the idea of her approaching the forge on her own. If those creatures could repel the likes of Hephaestus, what hope did Annabeth have? It was not safe. She was their leader--they could not risk her life. Percy would not risk her life. 

Alas, he could never sit still for very long. Creeping along the outer rim of the lake of molten rock, he darted from stalagmite to stalagmite as best he could, hoping to find a better vantage point. Really, Annabeth should have known better.

The heat was horrendous, heavy and oppressive. Drenched in sweat, and eyes stinging with smoke, he moved along, staying as far from the edge as was physically possible, until he found his way stopped by a large metal box, fitted on wheels. Peering inside, he saw it was full scrapped metal, bits and bobs of broken swords and lumpy shields, piled on top of one another. Nothing he could reasonably use for an extra weapon, or even some kind of defense. Making to squeeze himself around it, he suddenly heard from up ahead a voice, rough and grating, speaking an ancient language which no man alive had heard for a thousand years. 

Monsters, he knew. 

There was no time to run away, no place to hide… except for the box. Leaping inside, covering himself with a dented aspis, he curled his fingers around his father’s sword, that blade Anaklusmos, hissing as the sharp metal of his bed cut between the soft parts of his armor, biting his tongue so no curse could escape. 

With any luck, the monsters would pass him by, and he could continue along unmolested. 

That was when, of course, that the box lurched forward, pushed along by the monsters, carrying Percy along with it. Malaka! Was he about to be tipped into a smelting pot?

All around him, he heard the chatter of terrible beasts. He was not so skilled in the ancient tongue as Annabeth, but even he could recognize a few words here or there, “weapon” and “cyclopes” and “furnace,” and some names as well: Zena, hissed with scorn, Posidaota, spat with bile, and, most chillingly of all, Kronos, spoken with reverence and awe.

Percy blinked against the sudden light as his cover was removed from his person, revealing himself to the monster, who was so taken aback by his presence, that it blinked back at him in return. For a few moments, neither of them moved, so shocked were they by the other’s sudden appearance. Then, springing into action, Percy slashed upwards, dissolving the beast in a cloud of golden smoke. Snatching up another shield and leaping from his bed of spikes, he saw with his preternatural vision a small army of at least twenty monsters, black like dogs, but with sleek, shiny skin, and legs which looked to be more suited for swimming than scrambling around the rocks of Aitne.

With a hearty battle-cry and another wide swipe, he repelled the front row of these creatures, carving himself some space to jump, sprinting for the mouth of the tunnel. The monsters followed after him, baying and growling as a pack of ravenous wolves, and they would have caught him, tearing him to pieces, had they been but a little bit faster. Thinking quickly, at the top of the tunnel, Percy hurled his shield into a column, the rocks crumbling upon impact, burying the monsters and blocking off the path with a great, noisy cave-in. 

He doubted it would keep them trapped for very long. Not only that, he very much doubted that they had been the only monsters in the cavern. Percy had just announced his presence to anyone who might have been listening, destroying their chance for any sort of subtle reconnaissance.

And Annabeth was still out there, somewhere, invisible.

“Annabeth!” He yelled, running towards the platform at the center of the ocean of lava. “Annabe--!”

An invisible hand clamped over his mouth, wrestling him down behind a large, bronze cauldron. “Silence! Do you mean to have us killed?”

Arms flailing, he managed to locate her head, slipping off her cap of invisibility. She shimmered into view as an island emerging from the mist, scowling and covered in ash and grime. “It’s far too late for that,” he said, grimly. “I came upon a group of monsters, and brought the roof crashing down on them.”

Hissing curses, her hands clenched, as though she meant to strangle him, before she visibly managed to control her temper. “You said there were monsters?”

He nodded. “I know not what kind. I had thought they may have been dogs, were it not for their flippered feet and human hands, adorned with claws. They spoke of furnaces and weapons, making arms for the first Titanomachy.”

“Telkhines,” she gasped, eyes wide. “Of course! I should have known. I had wondered when I saw… well, look.” 

Together they peered over the lip of the cauldron. In the center of the platform stood four of these demons, larger than any Percy had seen before, standing at least the size of a fully grown man. Their black, scaly skin glistened in the light of the fire as they labored, sparks flying between mighty hammer strikes on a long piece of glowing, hot metal, hissing to each other in the ancient language. “What are they saying?” he whispered to her. If he could not understand them, Annabeth surely would. 

“They are talking of fusing metals,” she said, frowning. “Other than that, I--I cannot say.”

“Is that bad?”

She stared at him, incredulous. “The telkhines betrayed the gods,” she said, “for practicing dark magics. For their transgressions, Zeus banished them to Tartaros.”

“Alongside Kronos.”

She nodded. “We must return to Hephaestus at once--”

But no sooner had she spoken than a sharp, clawed hand pierced its way through the rubble of Percy’s cave-in, pushing aside the rocks which blocked its path, followed closely by its snout, teeth long and sharp and dripping with saliva. “You must return to the god,” Percy said, moving into a crouch. “Leave me here.”

“What?” she shrieked. “No! I will not leave you!”

At any other time, he would have praised her for her courage, but not now. “You must! Let me distract the monsters, and perhaps the spider can lead you back through the Labyrinth. You are the leader of this quest--you must take the message back to Hephaestus.”

“But you’ll be killed!”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, turning to face her. “As well, there is no other choice.”

She glared at him, her lips pulled back almost in a snarl worthy of one of the monsters. He knew this look of hers well--it was the one she wore whenever she considered hitting him for his foolishness. 

But rather than hit him, she did something which shocked him even more.

She grasped the collar of his tunic, pulled him close, and kissed him. “Be careful, phykios,” she murmured against his lips, breath hot. Then she put on her cap, and vanished. 

Percy couldn’t breathe, and not for the smoke. Had it not been for the lava, the monsters, the weapon, the quest, he would have been quite content to sit there all day, thinking of nothing but the softness of her mouth and the way her eyes sparkled in the firelight, unable to even recall his own name. 

A sea demon screamed, jolting him back into reality. 

The horde of monsters, freed from their prison, charged across the bridge towards him. Percy scrambled up from the ground, running for the middle of the platform, startling the large monsters so thoroughly that they dropped the red-hot blade over which they labored. It was as long as they were tall, curved like a crescent moon, its shape burning into his vision, sending shivers down his spine. 

Unfortunately for Percy, the monsters recovered quickly from their shock. Every which way he turned, his exit was blocked by a small army, surrounding him. Cutting him off. 

Raising Anaklusmos, he prayed that they could not see the blade shaking. 

“Son of Poseidon,” rasped a demon, speaking Percy’s own language now. “We are honored by your visit, fish-blood.” 

He spread his senses, casting about for an escape, but there was none. He was trapped. 

“Will you strike us down, half-blood?” asked another one. “An you try, the rest of us shall tear you to shreds.” Licking its lips, it advanced on him, claws glinting in the glow of the forge. “Perhaps we shall deliver you to your father in pieces--an omen of the horror we shall visit upon him, and all the rest of the twelve, for their betrayal.”

Annabeth would not have allowed herself to be cornered this way, but Percy was no strategist. If the gods favored him at all, they would have seen to Annabeth’s escape, leaving him to his doom. 

Was this to be his doom, he wondered? Trapped in the heart of a volcano, overrun by monsters which would use his bones to pick their teeth? 

The tallest of the demons plunged its hand into the furnace, scooping a handful of molten rock. “Let us see the might of Olympus,” it said, grinning. “Let us see how long it takes him to burn!” And it threw the lava at Percy.

Dropping his sword, he swatted at his clothes which had been set alight, as though he had merely had an unfortunate run-in with the lava trap at the agoge, but it was not nearly enough, the fire engulfing him with each passing second. At first, oddly, it had only felt warm, though it grew hotter and hotter with every heartbeat. 

“Your father’s nature protects you,” one monster sneered. “Makes you hard to burn. But not impossible, fish-blood. Not impossible.”

Later, Percy would struggle to remember the particulars. He would recall only the fire, and the pain. He would not remember how he crumpled to the floor in deepest agony, the sea demons howling in delight at his terror. 

Nor would he remember the voice of the naiad at the farm of the giant Geryon. The water is within me, she had said. 

Between waves of torment, there was a tugging sensation in his gut, calling vainly for water where there was none: not a river, nor a stream, nor even a petrified seashell. Percy called for the sea, the towering waves which could wash away villages, the currents which could destroy ships in a single blow, the endless power of the ocean, and he called for these things inside of himself, letting it loose in one terrible, horrible scream.

Fire and water collided, a typhoon of unearthly power shooting him up from the beating heart of Aitne on wings of superheated steam, peeling his skin away, another piece of flotsam flung from the earth by the force of the blast. Higher and higher he flew, further than Icarus, than Bellerophon, than Zeus himself, so high that the lord of the heavens would not be able to reach him--and then he fell, a shooting star, hurtling towards the sea which would not save him. Not this time.

[dinosaurtsukki]

BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 1

hi i am an absolute slut for university au’s in case you couldn’t tell so i just had to write some for my first BSD post. also this is going to be slightly ooc because i am a crackhead

check out pt. 2 here

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Atsushi Nakajima:

he’s definitely the kind of guy who still had no idea what he’d take up in university even after he was accepted 

either wants to not major in anything at all or just major in everything because he’s also scared that he’ll eventually not like what he’s majoring in

so for his first two years you’d probably find him jumping around different classes 

also he still calls the professors ‘teacher ____’ like a high school student and everyone laughs but thinks its cute

eventually, because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he decided he wanted to help children by becoming a guidance counselor

he ends up taking Child Psychology and bOY does he love it so much

well he actually just loves all of his classes because Learning is Fun

although because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he’s the one in class that people are all like 👀👀

atsushi: *talking about children’s responses to fear and emotional abuse by talking about his own emotional abuse*

the professor, under their breath: wait, do you need help?? 

i can definitely see atsushi as a Roommate of the Year kind of guy. he’s just so polite and tidy with his room. also he’d definitely be the type to take care of plants inside the dorm room and put them on the windowsill

in terms of extracurricular activities, he’s definitely a sporty type of person so i can see him joining a varsity (something like Frisbee because he likes things that go whoooosh) but he’d probably join a student org that does stuff like community outreach

because of all this, he is a Very Busy Boy but his friends do manage to drag him out to parties once in a while

although atsushi would probably sit in a corner and drink only one beer for the entire night 

he’s notorious for helping drunk people though. most of the time he’ll be putting blankets on people and making them drink water

if he knew how to drive he’d definitely be the designated driver

Akiko Yosano:

omg i’m so excited for this i love yosano so much 

she’s the friend who’s just effortlessly awesome all around and a fricking MED STUDENT to top it all off

she gets a bit too excited when it’s dissection time but it’s alright she has good intentions 

probably the only one in your class who doesn’t go and throw up whenever a cadaver is being used (actually do they still use cadavers i have absolutely no idea)

she also interns at the local hospital as part of her degree program but OMG yosano will not stop telling disgusting stories about the patients she’s had

everyone: *eating lunch peacefully in the dining hall*

yosano: so i pulled a guy’s toe out of a meat grinder this morning

everyone: sHUT UP

for some reason she still has a social life despite being a med student and it’s one of the mysteries of life i guess

yosano LOVES going out clubbing on friday nights. if you have the fortune of being her roommate, be prepared for make-overs and being dragged with her out to the city

she’s such a social butterfly like at every bar you go to, the bartender knows her name and her regular order. she’d probably end the night befriending a couple more people

also she’s amazing at karaoke i kid you not

as for extracurricular life, i don’t think yosano’s the type to join an org that’s related to her major cause like ‘what’s the point?’

instead, she’d probably go wherever her friends are because to her, she’ll enjoy any activity as long as she’s with people she loves

but when it comes to her own interests, i can definitely see yosano as someone who loves the outdoors, especially hiking after having to be cooped up inside clinics

it just makes her love and appreciate the value of life more

Kunikida Doppo:

ok, i KNOW he was a math teacher before he joined the ADA bUT i can’t help but think of him as a political science major ??

i can definitely imagine kunikida as someone who’d want to become a lawyer someday and would take political science as a pre-law

he does like the idea of following in the footsteps of great men but omg kunikida would absolutely hate the exclusivity of white, male political theorists

he is such a good student except for when his professor has some sketchy values then kunikida will !! fight him !! every !! chance !! he gets !!

raises his hand constantly to contradict his professor if they even tRY to defend thomas hobbes and authoritarianism

but other than that he’s probably the most diligent student out there. kunikida genuinely enjoys doing the readings for class and writing essays

also has such a balanced schedule that he can make time for anything and everything

except for when his friends dazai drag him out to parties and get a social life

despite how rigid he is, kunikida has absolutely no problem helping out others with learning. he often holds study sessions in his dorm room or in the library before exams

he also likes to volunteer in tutorial centers because he’s just like that

OH OH some of his ‘students’ suggested that he make crash-course type videos for political science and it took some convincing but eventually kunikida decided to go for it

he’s not the most tech savvy or photogenic person so it took some time for him to get used to things but after seeing all the comments from people who benefited from it, he decided to continue with his crash course videos

whether or not he’s the best or worst roommate is completely up to you. if you like someone who’ll basically micromanage your life from your daily schedule to your study habits, you’ll absolutely love him

he doesn’t like to go out for parties that much but he will if his friends convince him enough (kunikida’s an utter lightweight when it comes to drinking though)

Osamu Dazai: 

i genuinely have a hard time thinking about what this guy’s major would be and tbh even his friends have been wondering what dazai’s major was for TWO YEARS

that’s because he keeps taking the most random ass classes like Basic Pottery or Intro to Molecular Biology in the same semester

idk how he even plans to graduate at this point

although to be honest, i can definitely see him as a philosophy major despite the fact that i LOATHE every male classmate i’ve had who’s a philosophy major (idk they’re always so condescending)

i feel like dazai’s just taking that because it’s somewhat challenging for him but to him, university life is just more of crazy experiences rather than learning

and oh my god has he gotten up to the weirdest shit

the number of times he had to climb gates or sleep on benches at three a.m. is too many to count

dazai also loves volunteering for random things like people’s thesis projects (once, he offered to be a snake venom tester to a bio student and they told him that was illegal) or even being the school’s mascot in games

also he and kunikida probably met each other in freshman year at an intro to philosophy class and oh my god did dazai get on his nerves

what’s worse was that they had to work on a group project together and dazai was MIA most of the time and it drove kunikida crazy

that is until dazai showed up last minute to pull an all-nighter with him for their paper and kunikida just couldn’t help but be impressed by dazai’s ~~intellect~~

they don’t exactly get along but they do have some mutual respect for each other enough to work on projects well

omg if dazai ends up being your roommate I WISH YOU LUCK 

the first time you walked into your room dazai was microwaving a metal bowl and you had to run to stop it in time

also he has a tendency to wear his headphones and sing his favorite double suicide song out loud 

kunikida please come pick him up

Edogawa Ranpo:

i love this one man so much i swear to god 

ranpo is definitely the kind of person who just didn’t like school so when college applications came around he was just like ‘why bother though ???’

his friends did convince him by saying that he wouldn’t have to do subjects he wouldn’t like and just focus on his major (this is a lie btw)

is it a surprise that ranpo would choose forensic science ?? NO

he thinks its cool that he can learn about something he’s already super good at and it just gets him really pumped up to show off how good he is

LOVES getting praised by his classmates and professors

ranpo probably thinks lectures are boring as hell so sometimes he just,,, doesn’t,,, come,,, to class

if attendance IS required you can bet he’s bringing snacks and game consoles with him and sitting WAAAAY in the back of the room

Mukbang at a Lecture Hall with Edogawa Ranpo

his classmates think its cute that he puts on glasses before doing exams or answering his prof’s questions as a way to hype himself up

everyone calls him ‘The Greatest Detective’ and ranpo LOVES IT

despite that, he’s not too overly social he just likes being with his close group of friends UwU

he’s also someone you can drag around to places like the fair or an aquarium, but he’s not into clubbing or drinking for that matter

he DOES enjoy seeing his friends get drunk and mess with them though

ranpo isn’t into joining student organizations BUT he gets scouted a lot by detective agencies and he likes interning for them

i’m saying detective agencies because police are gross

ranpo did end up joining a baking club with the assumption that he would just be EATING the cake and not BAKING the cake

yeah he was just there for less than half a semester

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taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan​

[woolydemon]

TFA Shocks? Or tfa Sari =3

Tfa shockwave thoughts

First impression

Would it be bad to say I was actually kinda fooled by him </3

I knew shockwave existed but somehow managed to not spoil myself abt the longarm part so im watching TFA like "wow longarm is so nice to bumblebee I like him :]]!!!" then the end of the episode i :0,,

So. I may be stupid

Impression now

Hes one of my top 3 favorite characters babyyyyyyyy!!!! I adore his design (i have a huge bias towards any design that had funky obscured/lack of facial features + its rlly cool just how monstrous he is) and i think he's got the potential to be very interesting!!

I just think he's a emo nerd (with severe gifted student problems) and that's pretty neat :]

(except the gifted student problems. thats not so neat)

I also simply don't see any interpretation of him that doesnt fit the way I see him <3

Favorite moment

I think his moments in Autoboot Camp a lot, he's genuinely nice to bee!! That's not a facade he put up (he defends bee when wasp was like "way to go numbnodes", helps him out of the locker, etc)

Idk despite whatever the Allspark Almanac or fandom interprets Shocks, hes not a cold heartless deceiver and the small details from this episode rlly show that

Also think his bumbling attempts to try to preserve his identity are funny, what a dork

Idea for a story

i would love to see a redemption arc for my man!!!! I want him to be able to move past his need for approval (especially from ppl like megatron) and find a sense of self worth for himself!!

I think he were given the chance to leave the decepticons, he would be end up being a neutral since he has personally witnessed the fucked up shit the Autobot government is up to. And then he could maybe like dedicate himself in trying to overthrow this corrupt government, not for the decepticons this time. Or maybe he can just finally do whatever he wants to do and pursue a career in the sciences

(Also it would be cool if he changed his eye color to yellow to indicate his departure from the faction)

Unpopular opinion

I HATE SADISTIC ASSHOLE SHOCKWAVE :[!!! it's just... Not fun?? At all??? Especially when a lot of that sadism is directed towards blurr

And also I think that Shockwave is not an old creepy man, I'm pretty sure there is never any mention of him in of being in the war ever in any media?? So I think he.. was not around during that

Now I'm gonna really rock the boat here and say I hc him as younger than Bumblebee (but not by much!! Hes like the equivalent of a couple months or year younger than bee). I just think it's a little funny ok?? Shockwave's like "ur just simply not mature enough to understand bumblebee" and bee is "IM OLDER THAN U >:["

Favorite relationship

Shockbee.. shockbee good. I think their interactions in Autoboot Camp are rlly sweet and their dynamic is fun!! Emo nerd and lil trouble man holding hands... very cool

Favorite headcanon

I constantly think about how Shockwave's first instinct while panicking is just. Violence

So like... What if he was conditioned as a decepticon to just to resort to violence if things go really South??? I can only imagine that while he was becoming friends with Bee he was thinking in his head "THIS IS NOT OK. THIS IS NOT OK. IM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS WITH HIM. I HAVE TO KILL HIM"

This ... Is not healthy btw. This is a shockwave problem moment. hope he gets well soon,,,,,,,,,

Sari Sumdac thoughts

First impression

I was a little worried she was going to be an annoying human character :[ unrelated to that I recognized tara strong and was like "TWILIGHT SPAR-"

Impression now

She's definitely one of the best human characters I've seen so far in the tf franchise!! I like her and I hope good things happen for her <3

Favorite moment

I think abt how she says "if u wanna mess with my city ur gonna go through ME first" like hell yeah u go girl!!!!!

also love how the autobots take care of her when her dad went missing, like bro... They're family..

The BEST family moment though was when she finally broke down from the stress and grief of losing her dad and not having any record of her identity and then bumblebee picks her up and is like "it's ok!! cry as much as u need to, we'll always be there for you" and GOD THATS SO SWEET IT GENUINELY MAKES ME TEAR UP

Idea for a story

Ok I know I kinda already did this with the seinfeld fic comic but I would love to see a much more genuine look into about how she realizes that she's a lesbian by being around the autobots, since they're from a homonormative society, and then they're like "HELL YEAH!! CONGRATS ON UR LESBIAN"

and maybe they all go together to a pride event or smth

Unpopular opinion

I don't think I have any unpopular opinions?? Wish ppl respected her skin tone more maybe

Favorite relationship

Still haven't finished tfp but I love seeing Sari x Miko... Very cute <3

Favorite headcanon

I once joked with my friends about how she has a inhuman tolerance to spicy foods as a result of being Indian and also part robot.

She carries those mini siracha bottles And also makes lesbian earrings out of those bottles!!

On the completely opposite side of the spectrum, Bee has little to none spice tolerance so he's bawling his eyes out while Sari is pouring more hot sauce on her food