#i also intend to be Twelve eventually

[doctahpants]

My fabric samples for S8-9 Missy shirt, S10 Missy scarf and Magician's Apprentice Clara spotty dress arrived. Photos below cut.

(Mostly, I want to document my progress for my own records. I'll probably do a follow up on patterns once they all arrive, along with my next batch of samples which includes boiled wool for Missy's skirt & jacket and grey knit for Clara's jumper)

Look how pretty the scarf fabric is! Not actually planning to do S10 Missy right now, but when I saw it, I knew I needed it!

It's a really nice cotton silk blend too. So soft, so drapey (also so expensive)

The shirt fabric is nice.

It's available in a few fabrics, so need to choose, but I'm definitely getting some of this. I need to practice my stripe matching though.

I got a few different ones for Clara, but this is the best of the bunch.

I think it could do with being a shade or two darker, but it's a rare spotty fabric that doesn't have a regular grid of dots. If I don't see wanting better it is definitely pretty good.

Reference photos below:

[thesnackthatsmilesbacck]

🧨 Try Me

Or: The time Dynamite replied to your thirst tweet and you briefly forgot how to exist

You’re in bed. It’s sometime after 2 a.m.—2:49, specifically, because you’re looking at the time in the corner of your screen and wondering when exactly you started measuring your nights in percentage of battery left rather than hours of sleep remaining.

The blue light burns into your retinas like you're being punished. You know this is bad for your sleep. You’ve read the studies. You’ve seen the TikToks. You’ve also been here before. This exact place: head half-buried in your pillow, a hoodie you haven’t washed in a week pulled over your knees, your thumb aimlessly scrolling until it feels like your thumb is the one doing the thinking.

And then—

It happens.

A tweet. No context.

Bet none of you could take me anyway.

— @DynamightOfficial

2:47 a.m.

You freeze.

Not in the way people mean when they say it metaphorically. You literally freeze—thumb hovering, heart stuttering, stomach twisting like it forgot which direction is “down.”

Because it’s him.

Bakugou Katsuki. Dynamight. Number two hero. Number one problem in your adult life. Professional menace. Certified weaponized male aggression. Your brain’s least safe place to go at night and yet the one it always returns to, like a tongue to a sore tooth.

You stare at the tweet.

It’s nothing. Just twelve words and a digital timestamp. But you read it again. And again. As if the pixels might rearrange themselves into something safer. Less loaded.

But they don’t.

Bet none of you could take me anyway.

It’s not just the words. It’s him saying them. At 2:47 a.m., which is in your opinion is the horniest time of night. It’s the complete lack of punctuation. The aggression that seeps through the screen. The fact that you know—you know—he meant it in both ways. He always means it in both ways. That’s the problem.

Or maybe that’s the whole reason you’re here.

Your brain does this thing when you get nervous—it splits. Like a cracked mirror, every version of you reflecting something slightly different. The part of you that’s amused is like: “Haha, feral tweet from a feral man.” The part of you that’s anxious is like: “Delete your account. Move to rural Canada. Learn to churn butter.” And the part of you that runs your Twitter smut account is already opening the quote tweet box.

You don’t think. Not really. It’s muscle memory at this point.

“Try me. I’ve already taken you in every way imaginable. Check the pinned.”

You hit send.

And then you sit there in the silence that follows, heartbeat going too fast in a body that isn’t even moving. Your screen is too bright. Your room is too quiet. Your brain is too loud.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. You’ve tweeted worse. You've written worse. Your entire pinned thread is dedicated to cataloging the (imaginary) ways Dynamight has rearranged your guts like God intended. You once tweeted, “If I die, bury me face-down so Dynamight can sit on my neck.” That got four thousand likes. This is nothing.

But this feels different.

Because this time, he tweeted first.

And something about that—about him speaking into the void and you answering like you’ve been waiting to catch his words midair���feels too real. Too close.

You try to scroll away. But your hand shakes. So you just lie there. Screen glowing. Brain buzzing. And eventually, you fall asleep—if you can call it that.

---

You wake up six hours later to a vibration that doesn’t stop.

Your phone buzzes off your nightstand and clatters to the floor. You groan. Reach for it. Your thumb catches the screen.

And then you see it.

> DynamightOfficial wants to message you.

You sit up so fast you see stars.

For a full three seconds, you stare at the notification like it’s a hallucination. Like your brain has finally given up trying to differentiate between your delusions and your timeline.

But it’s there.

Blue check. Hero account. Him.

You’re not awake. You’re dreaming. You’re in a coma. You died and this is some uniquely customized hell.

You tap it.

Message request: @DynamightOfficial

> you’re outta your fuckin mind

You choke. On nothing. On air. On the weight of your own self-respect, which is currently collapsing like a flan in a cupboard.

He messaged you.

He messaged you.

There’s another one.

> what’s your name

No greeting. No “hey.” No “lol.” Just two messages, four words each, and the kind of syntax that feels like a punch to the sternum. It’s so him you could scream.

And you do. Into your pillow. Loudly. Twice.

Because this can’t be happening.

This is the kind of thing you joke about. The kind of thing you tell your group chat while giggling and pretending you’re not serious: “What if he saw the smut thread and actually liked it? What if he DMed me? Lmao, can you imagine???”

And now he has.

And all you can think is: He saw it. He read it. He read the things I said about his hands.

And then another ping.

> send your fuckin face. need to see who the hell writes shit like that.

You black out for a second.

Just a brief, graceful loss of self.

Then you pace your room like it might stop being your room if you circle it fast enough. Your skin feels like a bad disguise. Your thoughts are piling up in your mouth. You don’t know who you are. You are a brainstem with anxiety. You are a single, vibrating nerve ending.

And yet—your fingers open the camera.

You don’t know why.

Maybe you want proof this is happening. Maybe you want to test him. Maybe you’ve spent so long crafting fantasies in your head that you want to see what happens when one fights back.

You snap the pic.

Just your face. A little lip bite. A little neck. Natural light. The kind of photo that says “I’ve got thoughts you aren’t ready for.”

You hit send.

Read.

He’s typing.

He stops.

He starts again.

> dinner. you’re paying. i wanna see if your mouth works as fast as your thumbs.

You die.

You die and your ghost reads it again and whispers: What the fuck is going on.

You don’t remember what you responded with. Something stupid. Probably “sure.” Probably “okay.” Maybe just your address. Maybe nothing at all.

All you know is that it’s Friday, and you’re standing in front of your closet like it holds the secret to seduction and salvation, and your stomach hasn’t unclenched since noon.

It’s not that you haven’t gone on dates before.

It’s that none of them have started with your smut thread and ended with Bakugou Katsuki telling you to wear the lip bite.

You’ve reread the messages about forty times. You’ve gone back and forth between deleting your account and updating your pinned tweet to something more poetic, like: “This is how it starts. God help me.”

He hasn’t messaged since. And part of you keeps wondering if it was a joke. If it was a dare. If it was a PR stunt gone rogue. You even spent an hour Googling “deepfakes + Twitter DMs” before your roommate told you to shut the hell up and go shave your legs.

You don’t remember getting dressed. You don’t remember walking out the door. You barely remember the cab ride, because your thoughts looped the entire way there:

What if he doesn’t show?

What if he does?

What if he’s disgusted?

What if he reads my face like a book and doesn’t like the ending?

What if I say something dumb?

What if I say something too smart and he thinks I’m pretentious?

What if I say nothing at all?

By the time you arrive, your heart is beating so fast it doesn’t feel like it belongs in your chest anymore. Like it’s a borrowed thing. Like you’re just holding it until someone more qualified comes along.

The place he picked isn’t fancy. It’s not even particularly private. A late-night ramen spot tucked off a quiet street in the city. Clean tables. Dim lighting. No music. Just the hiss of broth and the clink of bowls. You wonder if he comes here often, or if he chose it because it’s the kind of place no one would expect to see him. No cameras. No crowds.

Just him. And you.

You step inside.

He’s already there.

He’s sitting in a corner booth, hood up, eyes scanning the room like he’s ready to bite anyone who recognizes him. He’s wearing black. Of course he is. Not dramatic, not sleek—just Bakugou. Comfortable but on edge. Coiled. Like he’s always thirty seconds away from going feral.

You freeze.

He looks up.

His eyes catch yours.

He doesn’t smile.

He stares.

You feel it—like heat, like gravity, like a trap closing around your ribs in slow motion. He looks at you like he’s seeing something he wasn’t ready for. Like he didn’t expect you to look like this. And you don’t know if that’s good or bad.

But then he gestures at the seat across from him with a flick of two fingers. Like you’re late to a meeting. Like he’s been waiting.

You sit.

You are aware of your body in a way you didn’t know was possible. Aware of your hands. Your breath. The way your voice might crack if you speak too soon. You want to crawl out of your own skin and start over. You want to kiss him through the table.

You want a lot of things you can’t say out loud.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” he says, finally.

His voice is lower in person. Rougher. Like it’s been scraped through gravel and fire and came out angry on the other side. There’s no filter. No politeness. He talks like he punches: direct. Blunt. Aimed to connect.

You laugh, nervous. “Didn’t think you were serious.”

He scoffs. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?”

You blink.

He leans forward. “You think I go ‘round DMing just anyone who writes about sittin’ on my face?”

Your soul leaves your body.

You attempt to make a sound that isn’t a dying bird.

“Fuckin’ hilarious, by the way,” he mutters, like he’s talking to himself. “Some’a that shit was too accurate.”

“You read it?” you whisper.

He tilts his head. “Would I be here if I didn’t?”

You want to die. But not in a bad way. In the way that means you want to explode into dust and float into the air and never come down.

You swallow. “...Do I owe you royalties?”

That gets a smirk. Barely there, but real. He slouches in the booth, spreading his legs a little, like he owns the air around him.

“You write about me like you’ve been there,” he says. Not accusing. Curious.

“I—” You pause. “I research.”

“You imagine.”

Your cheeks burn. “Yeah.”

His eyes drag down your face. To your mouth.

“Showed,” he says. “In the threads.”

You can’t look at him. You’re too seen. You’ve never been more clothed and more naked in your life.

A waiter comes. He orders for both of you. No menus. Just confidence.

You’re still reeling when the food arrives, steam curling in the space between you like a bridge.

You talk. About dumb things. About nothing. You think you black out for half the conversation, but you remember that he listens—really listens. He doesn’t look at his phone. He doesn’t talk over you. He just watches. Like he’s trying to match you to the version of you that lives in his head now.

You try not to fall in love with that. But it’s hard.

At the end of the night, he pays. You don’t argue. You remember the text—you’re paying—but he brushes you off when you reach for your wallet. “You’ll pay next time,” he says. Like it’s a promise. Like he’s already decided.

He walks you home.

The city is quiet. Your stomach is louder.

You want to ask a hundred things. What this is. What he wants. Whether he’s going to ghost you after this or kiss you on the sidewalk.

You don’t ask.

Because when you reach your building, he stops. Looks at you. The streetlight hits the edge of his jaw, and your breath catches on the thought: He’s real. This is happening. I am not dreaming this.

And then he leans close.

Close enough that you feel his voice before you hear it.

“Next time you write about me,” he says, low and warm and rough in your ear, “make it a little more accurate.”

You freeze.

“Don't worry, i'll give you material.”

And then he walks away.

Just like that.

While you stare at him with your mouth agape.

[jsooly]

Can I make an ask for the sully seriessss? I wanna see what would happen if y/n got into a fight with one of the sullys (idm which one) so at the ended of the day she started going back to the lab with spider instead of being around them and like they kept going back to the lab like for atleast a week and a half, and she basically sleeps there, eats there, doesn’t actually leave it and the sullys haven’t seen her in dayssss and this sort of thing has never happened before

If you don’t wanna do this it’s okay but tysm!! :)

taken in by the sullys (10) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, flashback to when you get into a fight with neytiri and stay at the lab for a day or two… or twelve…

try not to put lore in the filler chapters challenge: failed. lol

thank you for your request <3 sorry if it isn't what you intended, but i hope i did it justice! i'm slowly working through my inbox so if you sent a request in, dw, i haven't forgotten them :D

(1) / . . . / (8*) / (9*) / (10 - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

years before the RDA returned. . .

as we’ve talked about in the earlier chapters, you can owe your strength and skill to neytiri, who was very diligent in training you.

you started earlier than any of your siblings. you learned to string bows, build arrows, proper technique for handling knives, etc...

it was clear to anyone that neytiri was the hardest on you. she put a lot of pressure on you to be the best.

in the early years, she was hyperaware of the clan's opinions of her. of jake, of the half-blood children she would eventually have one day. even though they were triumphant against humanity, she still held a bitterness for them.

so she was shocked when she felt so strongly about keeping you as her own. jake was more than ready to respect her wishes if push came to shove, but despite her grudge against the sky people, she was 100% on board with your adoption.

neytiri loved you very much, but sometimes other people's opinions were more important than your happiness.

"again." neytiri snapped, circling you like a hawk. her golden eyes were focused on you, constantly assessing your form for any missteps.

your eyes darted to her before you swallowed your nerves and pulled the bowstring taut.

"not quite. again."

you let the bow drop, clenching your eyes shut. what am i getting wrong? you inhaled sharply, drawing the bow once more, the thin string digging into the joints of your middle and index finger. your gaze flickered to neytiri in preparation for her critique.

she pursed her lips before she sighed, shaking her head lightly. "you must be faster, ma'ite."

you frowned, gently releasing the bowstring. the disappointment in her voice made your skin hot with embarrassment. "i'm pulling it as fast as i can."

"not good enough." her eyebrows furrowed. "we will do more strength training. forget the bow. for now we will build your muscles."

she stalked off, swiping the bow from you. you watched her leave before dropping onto the ground in exhaustion. you stared at the leather stitching in the ceiling, your heart thumping in your chest as you entered a resting state.

it was hard to impress neytiri, much less meet her expectations. you were working yourself to the bone, and still you weren't scratching the surface of her approval.

it only got worse as you got older. you were capable of more, so neytiri pushed you harder.

unfortunately, you were also in an age where you were increasingly self-conscious. this anxiety was only fueled by the strife within the clan. strife centered around you.

they didn't like that you were participating in their training rituals, especially since you regularly outperformed the other children.

and this isn't to say you just happen to be able to achieve such feats despite being human—

neytiri had you working all the time.

the other kids wanted to win. you had to win.

unknowingly, and unintentionally, neytiri conditioned you into thinking being the best would make you worthy of your family.

"what is the use, neytiri?" a clan member asked her, the judgement clear on his tone. he consoled his own child who was just beaten in combat by you. "the child is human. no matter how much time you pour into teaching her, she will never be part of the clan."

"i am aware," neytiri shoots back dismissively.

"you have sons. neteyam is the next olo'eyktan, and you waste your time on a demon."

"demon or not, she is a part of my family. we train all our children, y/n is no different." neytiri hissed, whirling to face her challenger.

the man stepped back but didn't step down. "what is the goal of her training? she cannot complete iknimaya. she cannot bond, she cannot see, she cannot connect with the great mother—"

"there are many things y/n cannot do. to make up for it, she will be everything the sky people are not. she will be clever, quick, and deadly like any other na'vi child, otherwise there would have been no point in keeping her." neytiri snarled, her anger bubbling over the surface.

the man was putting her own fears into words. she was unforgiving to sky people, wishing they would remain with their kind rather than infiltrate her and her people's space. she was aware she was being hypocritical when it came to you, and it ate her up inside when she thought about it. but that's just a mother's love—paradoxical.

she was determined to mold you into perfection so that no one would think you didn't belong among them.

she stormed away from the man and his child, her thoughts so clouded that she didn't even notice you standing right there, hiding behind a branch as you eavesdropped.

you stared at her until she vanished from view, her words stewing in your mind.

some part of you knew that she felt that way. simply observing the differences between how she trained you versus neteyam or lo'ak were clear as day. she handled you with an urgency as if you were stacked against a ticking clock, as if you had to fight to be able to stand in front of her and receive her instruction.

she would only respond to excellence. and even then, her praise was weighed down by an unspoken burden.

you sat behind that branch for a very long time.

demon. the man called you that, and she didn't deny it.

—

the dinner table was filled with the pleasant chatter of your younger siblings, reveling in their various feats and findings in the earlier hours.

"what about your day, y/n?" jake asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing.

you sighed, nudging the food on your leaf. "just training."

"this reminds me, y/n," neytiri spoke up, wiping tuk's face before glancing over to you. "we can fit in another burst of strength conditioning before bed."

your expression hardened, your eyes falling to the ground. "i'm pretty tired..."

"that's why you're fueling up." she said, almost confused that you would shirk training.

"i won the races today." you said sharply, your eyes narrowing. "isn't that enough?"

"you must be faster, ma'ite." neytiri stressed, her brows furrowing in that oh-so-familiar disappointing look. jake sent her a silent message from across the table, warning neytiri to back down and maybe be encouraging for once.

"i—faster?" you shot back incredulously. you won. forget being faster, you were the fastest.

"our world is unforgiving. even a second can be the difference between life and death." neytiri said matter-of-factly. pity swam in her eyes as she gazed upon you.

you slammed your hands down, glaring outright at your mother. "stop acting like that's the reason you want me to train so hard."

a slow blink. neytiri froze, her ears flattening as she barely contained her reaction. "watch your tone, daughter."

you throw caution to the wind, springing to your feet with clenched fists hanging at your sides. "i do everything you ask. i train, i win, i fight, i hunt—"

"you are not fast enough!" neytiri doubled down, rising to her feet and towering over you.

"i am not enough, period." you correct her, and you didn't miss the flicker of guilt in her expression. got you. the child in you hoped she would deny it, to tell you that it wasn't like that. but the subtle wince told you all you needed to know.

a beat passed as neytiri breathed hard, collecting the scattered thoughts in her head and reigning in her emotion.

"you are alive," neytiri began slowly. "because i made you strong. because i did not coddle you like a helpless child. i did not give you the luxury of softness, because no one would else would. you think you suffer because of me? you won today because you are better than them. both na'vi and sky people alike. because i made you more than what they expected."

"you pushed a narrative on me! you don't see me for who i am."

she snarled, striding around the table. "the clan is the one that does not see you. i see fire in you, y/n. the drive to be more than what you were born as."

"none of this is for my sake! you want me to prove that i'm worth something to the clan. that i'm worth something to you. and i'm trying." your voice tapered off into a whine.

"you're human. you have needed to prove yourself from the minute you set foot on this tree."

you blinked back tears, your face flipping between emotional distress and anger, shoulders rising with every heavy breath.

"what—" your voice broke, and you breathed in deeply before continuing. "what if i didn't want to fight for my place? what if i just wanted to be your daughter?"

she opened her mouth to retort but the gravity of your words hit her like a truck.

frustrated with her lack of response, you spun on your heels and booked it out of the marui with a aggravated scream.

there was a lengthy silence that hung in the air after you stormed out. neytiri said nothing further, dropping back into her seat.

they didn't see you for days after that.

jake and neytiri initially panicked, fearing you were victim to pandora's nightly dangers

but norm put in a call and informed them that you were just hanging around them in an old bunk.

jake visited you in the beginning, coaxing you to return. but you refused.

when he put his foot down and ordered you to come home, you said you'd come on your own time, later that day.

you never showed up. when he went back looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. you were straight up avoiding them.

he knew that he wasn't the one you needed to see. but neytiri was just as stubborn.

"she will come back." neytiri said calmly, but she churned her spices with more aggression that jake's ever seen before.

"you're her mother," jake gently spoke up. "it's your job to chase after her."

she hissed at her husband. "she cannot understand that i am the way i am with her for her own benefit."

"she's a child. barely a teenager. she's doesn't care why you're doing it."

"she doesn't listen."

jake snickered, earning a hard smack to his chest from neytiri. "what?" she snapped.

jake's laughter trailed off as he gave her a knowing look. "now you know how i feel with your sons."

she rolled her eyes.

"she has a lot stacked against her." jake reasoned, scooting closer to her. "she doesn't need to fight her mom, too."

the kids were insufferable.

with you gone, there were lots they couldn't do—namely go out and play in the forest, which was their favorite.

in your absence, jake sometimes found the time to take them out, but he didn't let them have fun like you did.

you let them explore their surroundings, only cautioning them when they were doing something seriously stupid. jake's dad brain didn't allow for much wiggle room, and he wanted them in his sight at all times.

all that to say they were bored. they missed you.

"when is y/n coming back?" lo'ak's little voice whined, climbing on neytiri's back.

"soon." she muttered, her voice clipped. she could feel her resolve slipping.

parenting never came with a guidebook. she was young, freshly 20 when she had neteyam. she didn't know what she was doing, and she hoped the lengths she took to prepare her children for the real world would pay off. the reality was she was stuck.

she also missed you.

"i wanna go outside." kiri raised her arm, pointing to the expanses of the forest.

neytiri groaned. "kiri, we've told you. no outside if your father can't watch you."

she stomped her foot, complaining. "ugh, neteyam's only four years younger than tsmuke. can't he watch us?"

neytiri gave her daughter a warning look. "neteyam is a baby, just like you. he can't fight off viperwolves or save you from a hammerhead stampede, can he? do you want to be flattened?"

"no." kiri muttered, her glare dropping to the floor.

"you can go outside when your father returns from his duties." neytiri sighed.

neytiri was beginning to reach her limit.

she was anxious. when they went to bed at night, there was always something missing. she itched as if something was left undone.

she struggled to sleep. at the least, jake was also in a similar state. they often lay awake beside each other quietly, but the air between them was charged with a million unspoken thoughts.

the next morning, on the twelfth day you've spent away from them, neytiri finally had enough.

she got up at the crack of dawn. by her understanding, you actively avoided them. how you got wind of their arrival without even seeing them was beyond her. or perhaps it wasn't—she probably taught you that.

she slinked through the wet forest, the morning mist kissing her skin with dew drops. it smelled like rain, like dirt and musk. she just hoped she would be able to outwit you.

she found herself smiling, pride sneaking its way into her heart. how funny that you were using everything she taught you against her.

she didn't make her presence known. she was careful not to trip any of the perimeter alarms, peeking through the foggy windows for any indication of your location.

her ears stood at attention at the sound of rustling behind her. it was faint, barely recognizable, and worth pursuing.

she raced after the sound before it got away from her. she caught sight of your skin against the dull earthy tones of the forest, her eyes brightening.

abandoning your stealthy approach, you broke into a sprint.

"y/n!" she yelled after you. your burst of speed caught her off guard and she scrambled to her feet to chase after you. "wait!"

"i don't want to talk to you!" you yelled over the wind.

unfortunately your legs stood no chance against neytiri's massive strides. you were within her reach in seconds. her hand shot out to grab you. you dodged her, shifting your direction and running between her legs. you yanked on her queue, surprising yourself when you packed enough strength to throw her off balance.

when neytiri got a hold of her bearings, you vanished. she did a 360, scanning the area before turning her gaze up. picking a random tree, she began to climb.

"y/n." she said softly when she climbed high enough. you were already leaping across branches. she followed you, pushing hard to catch up.

"stop—" neytiri grunted as her foot barely found purchase on the tree she was leaping to. "stop running!"

by eywa, you were crazy fast. at least that was something your smaller stature allowed—exponential agility. she grumbled to herself, changing course.

when you jumped and landed with an oomph, you swung your head back to see if she was there. you were annoyed she was chasing you, but now you were even more irritated that she stopped so easily.

with a frown, you straddled the branch.

"aha!" neytiri dropped down from above you.

"what—" you barely looked up before she fell on top of you, screaming as you both slid off the high treetops.

she held you against her, her arm firmly fastened around your stomach, your back pressed to her. her free hand gripped onto a vine, the water shielding her skin from the burn.

you came to a complete stop, swaying just a foot above ground. she dropped down, refusing to let you go even when you got over your shock.

"please, ma'ite, mawey."

"let me go." you grunted, pushing her arm away with little success.

"no."

you probably looked so silly, squirming in neytiri's arms while she battled against your flailing limbs to fully and properly embrace you.

"let's hug."

"what? no."

"give me a hug. we need this."

"ugh." you groaned, going rigid in her arms.

pride ran in the family and neytiri was no different. she struggled to find the right words.

"i am sorry for how relentless i was. i know i'm supposed to have all the answers, but i don't. i'm learning that my way isn't always right, and making you feel out of place was the last thing i wanted to do."

you pursed your lips, hanging limp in her arms.

"you... confuse me, y/n. i have a hatred for sky people and everything they took from me, but i love you. dearly. and this is a feeling i cannot explain to my people. i hoped my methods would help you fit in with them, but i pushed you too hard, too fast."

"i don't mind the training. i know i need it especially." you mumbled. "but doing it constantly—"

"i know, i know." she hushed you, cradling your head. "i don't want you to question anything anymore. you are my daughter, however inexplicable it is."

you smiled warmly at her, finally returning her embrace.

she sat down, setting you in her lap as she undid the hairstyle in your hair, reweaving it with her skillful fingers. "i get scared. you've grown, but i still see you as that toddling baby. pandora is dangerous enough for na'vi as is. i can't help but multiply those dangers by one thousand when you go out there."

she sighed. "i must admit something to you. i have visions of you—one recurring one in particular. it comes and goes. you, bruised and bloodied, a massive slotsyal threatening to swallow you whole." she rested her hands on your shoulders. "i don't want to send you out there and see you hurt, or worse. not when i know i can prepare you."

"you've trained me well," you reassure her. "and you will continue to do so. i won't get into trouble thanks to your lessons. there's no way a stormglider would eat me, either."

she chuckled, standing and holding out her hand in invitation. "perhaps you're right. you are pretty fast."

you beamed up at her.

your bond with neytiri only grew stronger from that point. you were locked in together, and she couldn't be more proud of the fighter you've grown into.

and if anyone had anyone to say about it, they better be ready for a knife fight.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000

© jsooly ‘25

[wisteriasymphony]

What about Adrien has inspired you to put him in less than ideal situations or make him be rotten? Like why him/what keeps bringing you back to put him in those situations?

Spite.

Canon has a tendency to give him the emotional range of a wet napkin, take every avenue they can to strip him of agency, and delight in lampshading his sort of status as an eventual trophy* by likening him to a damsel in distress.

Fanon has a tendency to run with this, actively ignoring his less savory tendencies and taking the most boring routes possible to characterize him**. He is stupid, he is blind, he is whipped, he's just a sweet boy who loves Marinette so much but is too much of a fucking idiot to notice, isn't that adorable? Adrien protection squad, what a smol bean Sunshine Boy is, isn't it so sad how he gets fucked over so often because he's just such a sweet PERFECT sunshiney adorable castrated flawless cupcake baby boy—

[Cue table flip]

...I subscribe to a very simple, yet very effective principle when characterizing in order to give foundational depth (oxymoron half intended). The Rule Of Gap Moe basically states that when you push one trait or aspect of a character, the more satisfying it will be to subvert it.

Taking a boy who's built up as the perfect opportunity to deconstruct the archetype of the Dream Boyfriend (which is.. his entire existence in both canon and metacanon? Rich, Hot, Nice, Famous, Entirely and Secretly In Love With You?), only to refuse to do so, is a choice that aggravates me to no end.

Chat Noir, given the fact that most of his fanbase is 20 year olds who crushed on him in 2016 and never grew out of it, does not fucking count. All of his subversions of Dream Boyfriendism are either palatable or serialization growing pains not meant to be taken seriously***. There is nothing difficult to love about him.

...So?

Give him something you have to contend with.

Adrien is a loser in a very ornate closet of perfectness. He's deeply maladjusted from years of masking, and has constructed very elaborate delusions in his head of right or wrong ways to act—Don't rock the boat, keep your hands to your sides, walk exactly this fast because you mathematically derived it one night when you were twelve so Papa would never cane you for falling short of perfect again. He is deeply clingy, and underneath his mask of sugar glass lies a very emotionally turbulent, bitter young man. His years worth of functioning just to survive will one day snap and, in lieu of striving anything else, he will default to seeking nothing but a string of monetary pleasures and dopamine boosts because his only methods of regulating himself were imposed by abuse. Breaking out of his cage will, in essence, do to his system of repression what a pipe bomb would do to a water tower. He will do some very stupid, awful, self-serving things, and if we're lucky he'll say something incredibly unhinged in his never-ending internal monologue that we can gawk at for a moment.

The thing about all of this that separates it from, say, a normal Chat Noir anti-hero arc is that it inherently means Adrien will do some things we will not particularly agree with. That's interesting. Nowadays, that sort of "it's fun to see them make mistakes" is relegated to thought-terminating-cliches in sugar posts to dismiss any exploration into character choices, criticism or otherwise. This is why I make Sillynette unnecessarily cruel, too. Their flaws stick out like sore fucking thumbs. It's a little more complicated to like them that way.

And I think it's worth it.

*Which, granted, is a writer issue and not a Marinette issue. The reason this whole thing pisses me off is very much also due to the fact that a lot of really stupid shit occurs because Marinette has been written to make 'getting the boy' her priority just so she can fuck up. Cue S4 Finale Cue Ephemeral.

**Chameleon is another instance in which a very delicious possible ideological schism between Marinette and Adrien is effectively forgotten about in service of shippies, and only remembered in service of salting.

***Chat's harassment problem is equal to Marinette's stalking problem in this regard. They're formula jokes that have since soured, but because of misogyny or Marinette getting more focus or whatever, the latter is acknowledged more than the former.

[biichama]

Holy shit was The Tomb of Dragons a fucking ride. I read the entire book within twelve hours of it being deposited onto my e-reader app and the only reason it took that long was because I had to bathe and sleep in between. Like, it is going to be a massive disruption to the fandom and its shipping and it's jossed pretty much every fic written in the aftermath of Grief of Stones, but it is good and gripping and it manages to tie up loose ends that I hadn't really realized were loose. I really, really liked it.

I have additional spoilery thoughts on why I think certain things happened in the book, which I'll put after the read more.

So I ended up getting spoiled on a very certain plot point last week when I checked to see if there were any pre-release reviews from people who'd been given an ARC and like, while I definitely get how people are going to be upset that Cehelar and Pel-Thenhior did not, actually, get together, I was actually pleasantly surprised by their dynamic in the book? Like maybe it's just because I was already spoiled that the ship wasn't happening, so I had come to terms and was able to accept what Katherine Addison gave us, but it is exceedingly clear that just because they're not in romantic love doesn't mean they don't love each other because it is really fucking clear that they do. Iäna is Thara's truest goddamn friend in the world, even more than Anora, and their friendship burns clear and intense and bright. I really love all their scenes together. Forgive me for being Homestuck on main, but they're moirails, y'all.

Also, I really did enjoy Captain Olgarezh as a character and Thara's slow burn crush on him, culminating in the thee-ing, hand-holding, and given-naming in the last scene. I'm really looking forward to seeing what comes next for them, both in fanfic and (hopefully!) in further books to come, which it does seem like Katherine Addison has laid the groundwork for. And honestly, given the direction that it looks like she's taking Thara and the way it ends with Thara on the road again, making Hanu the love interest instead of Iäna makes a world of sense. Because we all love Iäna but he's not leaving Amalo, not when he has his opera house and his community, and it would strain credulity for the archprelate to be able to endlessly find new short term jobs in Amalo for Thara to do now that Tomasaran has his old one.

(Like it says in the acknowledgments that Tomb of Dragons was a hard book to write and I get that. In some ways Katherine Addison wrote herself into a corner with Grief of Stones in terms of being able to continue telling the kind of stories she wanted to with Thara and Tomb of Dragons was her way of writing him out of that corner. Like the way Grief of Stones ends, you can see the character arc she probably initially intended for Thara, where he mentors Tomasaran through her first cases and eventually comes to fully accept the loss of his gift and ends up retiring to stay in Amalo with Pel-Thenhior—but I suspect she had trouble making that actually work with Thara in a way that felt true to his character, probably because he would rather die than retire. Hence her making sure that he can't stay in Amalo or even go back to visit for now and creating Hanu as someone who can go on the road with him. And hence him being able to get his gift back.)

Anyway, apart from all that, I was so fucking pleased to see Maia and Csevet show up again and get all those little glimpses of him coming into his own as an emperor after a year on the throne. I hope that we do get another book where Thara and Hanu reach the Untheileneise Court and we see even more Maia and also hopefully Csethiro too. And that eventually all Thara's friends from Amalo show back up again, because they're all great and he really does need to get better at accepting people care about him. Get loved, idiot.

[cocogum]

Why you should care for Season 5.

When Tot announced that Season 5 would be Wakfu's true finale, I saw some fans expressing that a fifth season was unnecessary and that it seemed like a way to profit more from the series.

While it may be true from a financial perspective and given that it was previously stated that the fourth season was intended to be the conclusion, it’s always possible for Tot to change his mind if he receives support and attention from new partners and regional funding. He did mention at one point that he initially wanted Wakfu to be a trilogy, and yet he eventually made a fourth season.

Some people might overlook the fact that a fifth season could resolve several lingering storylines. The World of Twelve is expansive and filled with numerous conflicts and mysteries among its characters. A fifth season with 26 episodes could be just what we need to address these unresolved issues. Additionally, it's been quite a while since we had a season with 26 episodes. The last time we experienced this was in 2011 when season 2 concluded.

And speaking of unfinished business, it seems like based on the teaser we have received today by the Ankama team, Count Harebourg will be our antagonist of the season! For those who haven't watched it yet, here's a link to it that brings you on Ankama's official insta 👇

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Based on the teaser, several hints suggest that Harebourg will be the antagonist of the new season. The fact that he is in Waven assigning missions, along with the wording from the teaser video that indicate his return, both clues point towards this conclusion. Additionally, the ice-themed visuals of the teaser and the mention of Harebourg’s name in the eleventh chapter of the Great Wave further support this idea. So it is completely safe to say that Harebourg will be our antagonist for the finale and will pose a far greater threat than he did in the first episode of the OVAs released in 2014.

The fifth season will likely explain how Harebourg survived Oropo's bomb and how he came back to the World of Twelve. We will also most likely get to learn how Frigost's situation has been growing worse without him and how he will react to it once he'll reunite with his people.

And most importantly, we may get to see the Eliacube again. This artifact had completely been forgotten by the Brotherhood despite how it had played a significant role in their lives (but especially to Yugo and Adamai). I say this because when we take a look at the Season 5 kickstarter's information, we can see that the cover for the kickstarter has the Eliacube featured on it.

Adamai had only been capable of retrieving the six dofus eliatropes in Season 4 because he was capable of sensing their energies. He wasn't, however, able to get the Eliacube because it doesn't come from eliatrope origins. Because we're now seeing the Eliacube make a sudden comeback, it's very possible that Harebourg may have been the one to have found it first before anyone else. This would explain why the Eliacube is even presented so clearly to begin with.

(Speaking of the kickstarter, if you don't know already, it will launch on February 12th and has many great rewards depending on the amount you may decide to contribute. You can find the kickstarter here 👇)

You can even find some more clues in the kickstarter cover that suggest Harebourg will be involved. For example, there's a feather that could reference the time Echo gave everyone feathers to bring them into the Inglorium, except for Harebourg. Additionally, the cover features a destroyed piece of architecture that Oropo used to create a portal to reach the realm of the gods.

Also fun fact: at the time, I didn't believe that Harebourg could have died, so I came up with a theory about how he might have escaped unnoticed (and then only recently wrote it all down). Now that he’s actually returning, I find myself believing my theory even more! If you're interested, you can check it out right here.

So here you go! If you're unsure whether Season 5 is worth it, then I hope that my reasons will make you consider seeing it.

Please keep in mind that it's perfectly okay to feel that the fifth season may not be as enjoyable as the others. If you've already made up your mind about this final season, then at least you know what to expect! However, for those who are still uncertain, I hope my reasons encourage you to keep an open mind and consider giving the season a chance.

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav gets kidnapped and is surprisingly calm about her new predicament. She spends her first night in the devil’s bed. Raphael is a pain in the ass to share a bed with.

(AN: A pretty self-indulgent fic that I am working on. It is a lot more light-hearted than what I have previously written. The plot also gives me an opportunity to explore a more private and less performative Raphael. There will be more chapters.)

Warning: NSFW

It was a couple of weeks after the defeat of the elderbrain. Tav had been out drinking with a few of her companions. She had gotten very drunk and at some point during the evening she had gotten lost from the rest.

A handsome young tiefling man had approached her and bought her drinks. He had red skin, yellow glowing eyes, and a disarming smile.

They talked for a couple of hours. He claimed to be a wizard like her. She should have known something was up when he seemed to be very unknowledgeable about even simple spells, but what could she say? The man was charming, and the alcohol made it hard for her to care about him potentially lying just to get her into bed.

When they got to his place, she was half-way out of her clothes when something hit her head.

Everything went black.  

When she woke up, she heard the faint sound of something...jingling? She felt a sharp poke to her ribs. She grumbled quietly, still not entirely awake. She received another poke to her ribs. She whined and mumbled in response. Then there was a full force kick that squeezed the air out of her and made her turn to her side.

She held onto the boot that had kicked her and opened her eyes. Black boots that went into a tip at the toes. She knew where she had seen those silly jingly boots before. She looked up. Familiar orange eyes looked down on her. He was in his cambion form.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.

“Indeed,” Raphael said in a dangerously low tone.

Tav had signed his contract back then and used the Orphic Hammer to free Orpheus. She did intend to give the Crown of Karsus to Raphael, but her companions made her change her mind. The Crown of Karsus ended up in Mystra’s hands instead, in order to cure Gale of his orb.

“Thank you for bringing her here, Cassius,” Raphael said to someone else while his eyes were still locked on her. “Now leave us.”

Tav looked behind Raphael to see the young tiefling man that she had gone home with. So, he was a warlock… It suddenly made all the sense in the world why he did not know his ass from his elbow when it came to wizardry. The warlock smiled at her as he left them. Tav’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Ugh…” she groaned and looked up at Raphael. “He’s one of yours? You couldn’t have sent Korrilla or something?”

“You know Korrilla’s face, little mouse,” Raphael sighed. “You may not be the brightest person I have ever crossed, but I don’t expect you to be so dull that you would walk into my trap willingly…Then again, nothing would surprise me with you.”

Trap? Why couldn’t he just whisk her away like he did that first time they met if he wanted her there? Tav’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand. She lifted her head to look down her body. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. That was going to have to be a concern for a later time, because she noticed that she was wearing something around her wrists. They were tight metal cuffs with infernal letters inscribed in them.

Her brain was not her friend between the high levels of alcohol still in her blood and the fact that she had been hit on her head with a blunt object. She held the cuffs up to her face and studied them with all the concentration she could muster. She had seen something like these cuffs before…

“Help me out here…” she said and looked up at Raphael.

“They are constructs like those that held Prince Orpheus,” Raphael explained. “I’m aware that your mental capabilities leave something to be desired at the moment, so I will gladly explain it to you in simple terms: You won’t leave this house with those on, and you won’t get them off without the Orphic Hammer.”

“Is that what all this is about?” she sighed. “You could have just asked for it back. The damned thing has just been collecting dust at my house anyway.”

“No, Tav,” Raphael said in a darker tone. “This is about punishment. We had a deal, and you broke it. You snooped through my house, took things that did not belong to you, killed my incubus…I allowed it because I thought you still had the sense to go through with what we agreed upon.”

She winced. It had been a stupid decision to go to his house and one that did not even pay off. When Gale had been offered Mystra’s help, they went to the House of Hope to gauge their options. Everything seemed so tightly secured and locked down that they decided not to risk it in the end.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Haarlep…” she said.

“Don’t be,” Raphael replied smoothly. “I have half a mind to make you his replacement until your dear little friends bring me my hammer back…Then, I will make you watch as your friends die a cruel and slow death. After, I will take what is now rightfully mine: your soul.”

Well…fuck.

This wasn’t good. Her friends would without a doubt come to her rescue if Raphael told them that she was held captive in his home. She needed to keep them away and bide her time until she could figure out a solution.

“Say that they don’t come,” She said. “What then?”

“They will,” Raphael said. “You will be treated well until then since I need you alive and in one piece to lure them here. You will be granted free roam of the house, three meals a day, and a soft bed to sleep in. Consider yourself prized livestock that gets pampered in its final days before being sent to slaughter. Not that you deserve it…”

She took a deep breath. She had to somehow contact her friends and ask them to stay away. Then, she would have to find a way out of those damned cuffs so she could return home. How in the Hells she would manage to do that without the Orphic Hammer, she did not know, but it was not an option to gamble with her friends’ lives in order to bring it to her.

Tav had always found a way to be calm and relaxed, even in the worst of situations. She already had half a plan in her mind. All she needed was a moment of privacy to use a sending spell to alert her friends.

Raphael extended a hand to her, to help her up and off the floor. She took it and was pulled to her feet. She winced and held a hand to her head once the blood rushed to her injury from the blunt object hitting her.

“Come,” Raphael said and led her through the house.

They stepped through the barrier to the boudoir.

“I trust that you have already familiarized yourself with this room during your burglary, so I believe we can skip the tour,” Raphael said with no short amount of bitterness and then gestured to a wardrobe. “You will find clothes and essentials in there.”

Raphael turned around to face her. He looked her up and down. His gaze lingered at her bra and cleavage for just a second too long. Tav crossed her arms to cover herself.

“Bathe, rest, make yourself at home,” Raphael said with a smug smile.

Tav looked around the room and then at Raphael.

“Where will I sleep?” she asked.

Raphael’s smile widened and he gestured to his bed. Tav’s brow furrowed as her eyes went from him to the bed.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Deadly,” Raphael said calmly. “You killed my bed warmer. I believe it’s only fair that you take their place…Of course, I would never force you to do anything. If this little arrangement doesn’t suit you, I can have a cell in the dungeons cleared out for you. Its last visitor has been decomposing in there for a while now…”

“Alright, alright,” Tav said in defeat. “Fine. I get it…I won’t complain.”

“I thought not,” Raphael said smoothly. “I have business to attend to before retiring. Until then, Korrilla will be watching you.”

Tav sighed. She had hoped for a moment of alone time, but Raphael was not stupid. He was probably fully counting on her trying something, so he made sure to keep a close eye on her.

Korrilla entered the boudoir shortly after.

“Evening, boss,” Korrilla said with a smile, greeting Raphael before turning to Tav. “Tav.”

Tav smiled and waved casually at her. She had never minded Korrilla. After all, Tav did not know the circumstances of her pact, and she did not feel like judging her solely because her boss was a pain in the ass.

“Remember,” Raphael said addressing Korrilla. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

Korrilla nodded and Raphael gave Tav one last glance before leaving the boudoir.

Tav and Korrilla stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other. Tav was trying to figure out how she could divert Korrilla’s attention away from her.

“I think I’m going to take a bath,” Tav said casually and moved towards the restoration pool.

“Good idea,” Korrilla said, already following her. “I have to say, you look a mess. Cassius really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Surely, he could have used a spell to knock me out instead. Not too bright, is he?” Tav said and started slowly taking off her clothes, waiting for Korrilla to give her a moment of privacy. “He’s new, I presume?”

Korrilla seated herself on the other side of the pool, so she had a clear view of Tav.

“Correct,” Korrilla answered.

“'Correct' to which statement?” Tav asked with chuckle. “That he is not too bright, or that he is new?”

“He is new,” Korrilla said with a smile that signaled to Tav that she did not disagree with the other statement either.

Tav pulled off her pants, leaving her in her underwear. Korrilla was still watching her.

“Are you seriously going to keep staring at me while I bathe?” Tav asked.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Korrilla said and gestured for her to continue taking off her clothes. “I promise you that no matter what, I have seen far worse within this room.”

Tav sighed quietly. She reluctantly took off the rest of her clothes and slipped into the warm water of the pool. She felt relief as the water instantly healed her head-injury and took the edge off her hangover. Tav leaned her head back on the pool’s edge and closed her eyes for a moment.

After a long bath, Tav dried herself off and wrapped herself in a towel. She walked to the wardrobe with Korrilla at her heels. She opened it and sifted through the clothes.

There was a bit of everything: dresses, shirts, pants…Tav looked at some of the underwear. She pulled out a strappy leather bra with matching panties and showed them to Korrilla.

“Is he serious?” Tav asked with a deadpan expression.

“Leftovers from Haarlep, if I should guess,” Korrilla said.

Made sense. Tav looked after any type of nightclothes. Most of it was very revealing, but she managed to find a long silk night-gown. It was still suggestive, but it was her best option out of the bunch. The neckline was quite revealing, but at least it covered more of her body than the other negligees she found.

“This will have to do,” Tav sighed and put it on.

Tav crawled into bed after. It might have been the most comfortable bed she had ever laid in. The mattress was neither too soft nor too firm, and the sheets were silk. She felt sleepy moments after she had laid down. Korrilla was watching her from a chair.

“You’re not sleepy?” Tav asked and looked at her. Was there even a small chance that Korrilla would fall asleep so that Tav had the chance to send message to her friends, she would fight her sleepiness and stay awake.

“I’m not going to cuddle with you, if that is what you are asking,” Korrilla answered, looking wide awake. “I don’t sleep on the job.”

“Oh, you flirt. Not what I meant. I was just asking,” Tav mumbled with a sigh. Her sleepiness won against her determination. She gave up on her hope to reach her friends that night and decided to try the day after as she drifted to sleep.

She stirred from her sleep when she heard Korrilla leave, and Raphael enter. She yawned quietly. She made sure her night-gown was adjusted so it covered as much as possible before closing her eyes again. She felt a dip in the mattress as Raphael laid down behind her.

She gave a surprised yelp as Raphael grabbed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her back was up against his chest, his arm held around her tightly, and he settled his chin on the top of her head. He placed his leg over hers, effectively making sure that she could not move during the night.

This was without a doubt the closest she had ever been to Raphael. His skin was unnaturally warm, like that of a person with a high fever. She knew that protesting would not get her anywhere, because there most likely was a reason as to why he held her like that: to make sure that she would not try anything during the night.

She tried making herself comfortable despite the restrictions to her movements. Raphael’s grip tightened slightly in response.

“Lie still,” he grumbled.

Tav felt the deep rumble of his voice through his chest, and she would have been lying if she said that it did not do things to her.

“You’re a really uncomfortable big spoon, do you know that?” she complained and squirmed again. “I’m just trying to make myself comfortable.”

She felt something through the fabric of her nightgown as she adjusted her position in his arms. It made her freeze for a moment.

“Are you naked?” she asked in disbelief.

“Mm,” he affirmed tiredly. “Sleep, mouse.”

“I can’t persuade you to put on some clothes?”

“You are very demanding for a woman in your position,” Raphael said. “No. I will sleep in my own bed as I please.”

She sighed and adjusted herself one last time before closing her eyes.

Sleeping in the arms of a devil was pure hell for a multitude of reasons. Tav had never sweated so much in her life.

With difficulty, Tav rolled over to her other side since her back was literally soaked with sweat. Raphael’s grip was so tight around her that she was almost forced to lean her head against his chest as she faced him. She refused to do so and leaned her head back and away from him. The awkward position made her snore softly in her sleep. She was rudely woken during the night by his tail hitting her thigh, as a hint for her to stop snoring.

She was rudely woken yet again, when he suddenly snaked his arm under her to grab her and move her with him like a ragdoll as he rolled over to his other side.

In the early morning, Tav opened her eyes as she felt something press up against her behind. She could hear on his breathing that he was still at least somewhat asleep.

He was rock-hard and his, what felt like, impressive size was resting against her ass.

He rolled his hips against her and groaned softly.

The arm that had been holding her tightly, moved down to her hip to push her back against him. Another soft groan.

Tav’s eyes widened, and she was suddenly very awake.

She was careful not to move, but she did feel a tinge of growing arousal despite herself.

He pushed her back against him once again and groaned slightly louder. It was followed by a sharp inhale and a stir, as he woke up entirely.

A few moments later he got up and off the bed.

Tav squeezed her eyes shut. They had both knew what just happened. Should she say something? Should she pretend that she was asleep the entire time? Pretend she was dead? The last option was honestly tempting but she decided to try her luck with option two.

She listened to his movements. After a short while, it got quiet. She waited a few moments to be sure that he had left, before opening her eyes.

This could be her opportunity to reach her friends.

She sat up quickly and looked around the boudoir. Her eyes fell on the young tiefling warlock who must have entered without her hearing a thing. He was sitting in the chair that Korrilla had sat in the day before.

“Morning,” Cassius said with a smile.

Tav groaned in frustration and slid back into bed.

[bluemirrorangel]

can you pleeeaseeee do sodapop anything?? i’m talking angst, whump, hcs, i’ll take anything at this point !!!

every single Sodapop Curtis HC I can think of

so I know that his name isn't actually Sodapop it's just Soda but I also refuse to acknowledge that.

obviously named by a three year old Darry.

I think his parents gave him the middle name Patrick just in case he wanted a more conventional name.

doesn't just get called Pepsi-Cola he gets called a plethora of drink related nicknames.

mentioned wanting to go to medical school ONE TIME when he was like twelve and Two-Bit refused to refer to him as anything other than Doctor Pepper.

I think that Sandy used to call him Poppy but had to stop after the gang overheard and would not leave him along about it.

Steve sometimes calls him popsicle.

has really deep dimples.

very prominent spine.

get's crazy freckles during summer.

his eyes look almost golden when the sun hit's them.

doesn't really smoke but keeps a pack rolled up in his shirt sleeve because he thinks it looks cool.

his eyes get really puffy after he cries.

Dallas & Soda

they also don't really argue.

because Soda is not a fan of confrontation.

what happens more often is Soda lets his emotions bottle up (no pun intended) and then has a slight breakdown.

and Dallas isn't the best at apologising so he calls Soda dramatic.

he gives Soda space and then when Soda's calmed down they talk about it.

Well Soda talks about it Dallas just nods and looks slightly moody because emotional vulnerability freaks him out.

Soda & Sandy

they never fight

it's not because their relationship is super healthy.

it's because Soda once again hates confrontation and Sandy is terrified of losing him.

so they both just kind of passive-aggressively deal with their shit.

Soda never calls her by her name when he's mad at her.

he only calls her stuff like sweetheart or babe.

he calls her those things anyway, but usually, he says her name first, he'll say "Sandy sweetheart" instead of just sweetheart.

They're less affectionate when they're mad at each other.

they'll be around the gang and he'll go to kiss her and she'll turn her head so he gets her cheek instead of her mouth.

or they'll be hanging out with Steve and Evie and Sandy will rest her head on his shoulder and Soda will just leave her like that.

he won't try and put an arm around her or lean into her.

it's super awkward.

It never lasts long because they give in the moment the other brings it up.

Steve & Soda

they don't argue much because of how well they know each other.

so when they do, it's hell.

Avoid the DX at all costs, it's a war zone.

do that thing where they talk to each other through other people.

do little things to piss each other off.

eventually make up.

playfight A LOT when they first make up and that's how everyone knows they're good.

Soda terrible at English, surprisingly apt at maths.

enlists in the military when Steve gets drafted.

let me talk my dallypop shit for a second.

Soda is the type to flirt with his friends. He’s used to them rolling their eyes or jokingly going along with it, so when he meets Dally and he joins the gang, naturally, Soda flirts with him. He is honest to God gobsmacked when Dally flirts seriously back.

Soda was the first in the gang to meet Dally, they met at a rodeo.

Soda always had a thing for Dally but managed to convince himself it would never work out because Dally was too avoidant and uncaring. This changed COMPLETELY when he saw how good Dally was with Johnny.

Both of them find each other's accents attractive but are too embarrassed to say it.

Soda was a little intimidated by Dally and his reputation.

Soda thinks Dally’s hair is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, used to get distracted by how badly he wanted to touch it.

Soda makes fun of him for being named Dallas but being from New York. 

Soda thinks Dally is one of the most attractive people he knows, he just finds his appearance striking.     

Never actually got together.

Never hung out alone much because Soda didn’t want to cause trouble for Darry in case the social found out.

Made out a couple times.

Kind of a situationship-type deal.

Dally had Slyvia and Soda had Sandy, but there was always tension between them.

Dally still called him Pretty Boy, but it always had a bitter undertone to it. Soda could never bring himself to mind.

Soda HATED hearing about Sylvia cheating on Dally when he went to prison because he knew deep down he’d never do that, he’d wait for Dally forever.

Cradled Dally after he died, had to be dragged away full-on sobbing.

Dally’s death fucked with Soda more than he was truly aware of because he never truly had time to process it; he had to help Pony grieve Johnny and then there was the rumble and the court hearing and Sandy’s baby. By the time he had the chance to finally breathe and realise how much he missed Dally, he was leaving for Vietnam.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

had no idea that Sandy was insecure in their relationship.

just assumed she knew he wasn't flirting seriously.

his parents had the type of relationship where they just got each other without having to talk, so he assumed their relationship was also like that.

is the type of guy that falls a little bit in love with everyone.

it's how he copes, with everything.

would follow his friends to the ends of the earth .

does that thing dogs do when his hair's wet where he shakes it to get it dry.

has a burn mark on his stomach from eating chocolate cake straight out the oven.

he tells people it's a birthmark.

modern HC's

Sodapop and Steve run a TikTok account.

Soda doesn't smoke; he does, however, vape.

he keeps in touch with everyone he's ever met via social media

has all his classmates moms on facebook.

the same thing happens with Sandy but they do keep in contact.

[myths-tournaments]

Awful Characters Semi-finals (1/2)

Propaganda under the cut!

IANTHE TRIDENTARIUS

Her number one hobby is ruining every person's that she knows life. Her second hobby is being soooo slutty about it despite looking like a literal wet rat. Her third hobby is having an extremely unhealthy relationship with her twin. Her other hobbies include cannibalism, wearing a maid outfit, being extremely convinced she is the main character, the badboy sexy love interest and the villain. 'Why', you may ask. Well, the answer is, for shits and giggles #justgirlythings i, aswell as literally everybody else in the fandom have gone through the pipeline from hating her to desperately wanting to fuck her. expect for i still fucking hope she dies and doesn't come back for good. (that would literally solve all of everybody's problems) as god intended (EXPECT FOR. one of her hobbies literally is gaslighting god) She is fucking horrible i will love her until i die and even after that

parks and recs jean ralphio voice she's the woooorst!! The moment she learns she has to kill someone to become a Lyctor (aka a more special necromancer), she doesn't hesitate to kill and cannibalize the guy who has been her cavalier since childhood… cavalier who she also totally bullied as kids, she was allowed to choose one guest for her and her twin sister's birthday party each year, and she would always pick whoever she thought her cavalier didn't want to see there! While other characters are shown to regret the process of becoming a Lyctor (which involves someone close to them dying)/were forced into it because of circumstances, Ianthe has absolutely no regrets, she believes she did what she had to do

The author once said of Ianthe: "I don't think she's been nice to anyone, if she has I'll go back and change it." She killed and ate the soul of someone she has known all her life so that she could become a necromantic saint and tormented him plenty before that. General negging, ganging up against him, always inviting people he didn't like to their birthday parties. She doesn't regret killing him. I think she is repulsed by the idea that his digested soul is affecting hers. She helped her crush lobotomise herself so she would be in Ianthe's debt, and later lied and said she didn't see the corpse of a woman her crush killed under her bed (why did she do that? I do not know). She has a bone arm because her original arm was cut off, she hated the replacement so her crush cut THAT off and grew her a new one out of just bones. She had it gilded and only after that did she decide to help her crush deal with the person who had been repeatedly trying to kill her. She wants so badly to be the main character but people keep interrupting her villain monologues.

she has her own content warning tag

She's such a bitch to everyone all the time, she causes nothing but problems, she tries to do a villain speech but fumbles it because her tummy hurt, she is the awfulgirl of all time

AZULA

Azula explicitly considers herself a monster. She says needlessly cruel things to her brother and friends. She kills the show's twelve-year-old protagonist and masterminds the idea of burning down the entire Earth Kingdom to force them to submit to Fire Nation rule. I have absolutely seen people get called abuse apologists for thinking she's a cool character. But she's also a (canonically) mentally ill fourteen-year-old who was raised by her father to see her ability to be weaponized as her only value. Her mother, arguably the only adult in her life who could have had a positive impact, had a strained relationship with her because she was more difficult than her brother, and then disappeared when she was nine. Her uncle, who was her brother's main healthy role model, took absolutely no interest in her. She watched her father belittle her brother for years and eventually throw him away when he failed to meet his expectations, so that was a threat she was always facing. She really had no chance. And she also has moments that suggest she wants some sort of meaningful connection with another person. She lets her brother take credit for killing the Avatar so he can come back from exile, even though it means she'll be bumped back in the order of succession and offers him advice that seems genuine. Her spiral into a mental breakdown starts when her friends betray her. She's just a much more interesting and multifaceted than a lot of the fandom gives her credit for.

[fandom-lover2]

Deep In The Woods, Something Lingers In The Trees

Chapter Thirteen - Where'd You Find A Key

Chapter Twelve - Time To Wake Up

Chapter Thirteen - Family Isn't Only Blood

I hummed as I headed to the break room, unhooking my coat and preparing to shrug it on when Rodney came bursting into the room and began rifling through draws.

He’d been jumpy today, refusing to make eye contact with me or Dodge.

That wasn’t usual, but it was worse today.

And Dodge kept glaring at me. Guess yesterday was still fresh in everyone’s minds.

Only, he kept skirting Caesar’s cage each time he passed it, slipping his taser from his belt and charging it as he took the risk of walker closer to Rocket’s cage.

And Caesar was continuing to ignore me. But now Rocket was also watching me strange. His ‘I hate you and want to sink my fangs into you’ was now a ‘you are a weird human’ look. Not to mention Buck was in a better mood, not even flinching when I approached this afternoon with a small watermelon.

This place would never stop being one big mystery.

“Everything ok?” I asked, pausing with my coat halfway up my arms.

The vet jumped at my words, turning and fidgeting. “I thought I had more food.” he mumbled so softly I barely heard him.

I frowned slightly.

I knew he slept here, turning the sofa in his clinic into a pull-out bed, Dodge and John leaving at the end of each day. I’d never thought about food.

“Can’t you just go get some more?” I asked. “Or order take out?”

He shook his head, turning and rummaging through a drawer again, pulling out an oat bar. I knew the brand, and they had changed their wrapping almost two years ago. That one still had the old wrapping on. “I can’t leave the apes unsupervised. And I don’t have the cash for take-out. My mom was sick this month and needed to go to the doctor.”

My heart broke for this man.

Mistreated by Dodge, broken down by the world, unappreciated and overworked. If he wasn’t so skittish, I would have given him a hug.

“I can stay with them if you wanna go out and restock?” I proposed, taking off my coat and tossing it towards the counters.

He looked up to me, finally meeting my eyes. He was hopeful, but apprehensive. But then he changed his mind with a shake of his head. “It’s ok. I’ll be-”

“Either you go, or I go and buy a bunch of stuff and come back. Then you’ll have to unlock the front gate and door again, and it’ll be a whole lotta work on your end. Just go. They’re all locked away and most are asleep already.”

He frowned, thinking it over. Eventually, he agreed with a quick nod. “I won’t be long. Maybe 45 minutes?”

I smiled, following him and he went back to his clinic to grab his car keys and coat. “Don’t rush. I have nowhere else to be.”

Locking the lobby door behind him, and pressing the front gate closed after his car, I went back to the break room and sat down.

That lasted less than a minute before I was bored and standing up again.

This would be the perfect time to walk around and see if there was another way out. A way to open the cages without the keys, a back entrance I hadn’t found yet. Anything that could give a clue on how to start getting them out.

With it being so quiet, I’d hear the gate bell ring when Rodney returned, so I wouldn’t have to stay waiting by the door.

Slipping into the main floor as quietly as I could, I began to tiptoe down the ramp and across the floor.

I eyed everything as best I could in this low light, only the flashing black and white from the TVs above and the full moon through the dusty sky lights my guides.

I tried, I really did, but I didn’t have his brain. I didn’t play chess for fun, I didn’t do problem solving board games for entertainment, I did puzzles when there was really nothing else to do. That was it.

He could look at this and have a solution in five minutes, I’d be here all night still trying to figure out what each lever did.

I needed his help. If he wasn’t being such a stubborn ass-

I turned, intending on heading back to Caesar’s cage and try once again to get him to look at me, when I was met with a tall, dark figure at the end of the passage.

I gasped, taking a step back.

Fuck! Fucking, fucking, fuck!

An ape had gotten out, and here I was alone with nothing but maybe a shoe to throw at them.

Of course, this was how I was going to die. My worst fear come to life just to end it.

The ape took a step forward, on his hind legs so he stood taller than me and bigger than me.

He took another step, and I took a step back, swallowing.

My mouth was dry, my heart pounded so hard I could feel it banging against my ribs as it pounded in my ears as my limbs locked up, releasing only briefly to tremble before tensing again.

The ape took a third step forward, washing himself in the glow of the TV high above, and my entire body heaved a sigh of relief.

“Caesar! God, you are such a jerk!”

I raised a hand to my still fluttering chest, taking a couple breaths in and readjusting my stance so I didn’t fall over on now shaky legs.

Was this much adrenaline in such a short amount of weeks good for a person? Because if not I was gonna be dying pretty soon. Not after I hugged my best friend though.

Wait, hugged?

I looked up, back across the space to him.

Holy shit! Caesar was out!

I could run over and hug him, and hit him for scaring me, then hug him again and…

A scream filled my ears, Caesar’s teeth bared as he slammed his fists down over and over again, grabbing ahold of his hand and biting his finger clean off.

This was the first time I was with him since then that a cage didn’t separate us.

My body tightened again, that fear once again taking hold.

But I looked at him, and he was just as unsure.

He looked about as scared as I did, head down and eyes raised uncertainly as he watched me, waiting to see what I would do.

Neither of us knew what to do, what to say, how to react.

I was scared, of him, of what he could do, what he did do. But I also understood. Hell, I’d run over there and shoved the guy first and only after he rounded and prepared to do whatever to me and Charles did Caesar come in to defend his family.

Did he go over the top, yes. But he was still a wild animal. ALZ 112 or not, he was a chimpanzee. No amount of training and rearing would change that. He did what instinct told him to.

But he was also more. He was Caesar, my friend, my brother.

He would never, ever, hurt me.

In hindsight, I should have warned him, but in that moment I had my Caes back and nothing would keep me from him.

I charged, slamming into him and wrapping my arms around his neck. With his lack of balance in this stance, we toppled over, landing heavy on the cold cement floor.

But it didn’t matter. His arms were around me already too, face buried in my neck as he began to chitter softly.

Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t pull away to wipe them. Laying on his chest, my arms around him, I soaked in the feel of home.

His fur, coarse and warm, the leathery skin of his hands, the hard muscles hidden beneath the fur.

He was here. My Caesar was right here, and I could hold him again and feel at ease.

“I’ve missed you so much.” I whispered, holding onto him with all I had.

He squeezed back, his hold on me tightening for just a moment, before he released and began to sit up, me still in his hold.

So here we were, an ape and a girl sitting on the dirty floor of a shithole sanctuary. What an odd sight we’d make.

“How the hell did you even get out?” I questioned, pulling away from him.

He raised his arms and signed, “Later.” Before standing and beginning to pull me up.

I followed him, my hand in his own and he moved to switch on the main lights before pulling me to the storeroom.

“Get the stuff to clean.” he signed, before walking out the room.

Cleaning supplies? How would cleaning supplies help us? How would cleaning supplies get him out?

But, he was a genius and had somehow managed to free himself from locked cage while I still couldn’t figure it out with the key so I listened, grabbing a bucket, mop and broom, and a pair of gloves.

He stood waiting for me at the door to the free space, and walked into the room with confidence, so I trusted him and followed.

I then proceeded to drop the supplies and almost pee my pants when I made it halfway into the room and found Buck standing in the center of the room.

The noise of dropping the stuff aggravated the massive gorilla, causing him to grunt and back up.

Oh god, I really was going to die.

Caesar stepped between us, hands raised and palms down in a placating manner, looking between the two of us calmly.

Instantly, I remembered the rules of dealing with apes and I dropped my eyes and turned my shoulders inwards as I ducked sideways. A clear sign of submission, a plea for him to understand I wasn’t a threat.

“Caesar! The hell?” I whisper-yelled, waiting for death.

The chimp grunted, turning his back to the gorilla to look at me fully. “It’s ok.”

If I wasn’t so scared of pissing off the male gorilla, I would have shot a glare at the chimp.

“Ok? This is…”

Hang on a second.

Buck wasn’t attacking. He wasn’t even moving. And he also wasn’t in his cage. The cage that was beyond dirty and I conveniently had cleaning supplies scattered at my feet.

I looked up to throw Caesar my best pissed off scowl. “You really are mean. You could have just explained it.”

He shrugged and then smirked at me.

I debated hitting him upside the head with the broom, but we didn’t have much time.

I let my eyes slip from his for just a moment, catching Buck’s brown eyes briefly before I dropped the gaze. “Hi Buck.” I whispered. “Let’s get you a nice clean cage, hmm?”

He was watching me wearily, keeping a good amount of space between us.

As much as I was terrified of him, he probably had just as much uncertainty about me.

All he knew from humans was anger and fear and that cage and bad food and mistreatment.

It was a long shot and would take a hell of a lot longer than one night, but I hoped that I could show him not everyone wanted him hurting. Or at least I didn’t.

Moving slowly, no sudden moves, I headed over to the birdcage like enclosure and tried not to breathe.

It took a lot of scrubbing, but I was one determined motherfucker, and in about 40 minutes it went from shit stained to spotless.

Adding some extra straw, because I could, I left the cage and stepped into the free space again.

Buck was busy with what I could only describe as zoomies, running around and scaling the fake trees before jumping down and pushing the tire swing around before darting off again.

Stretching out and getting his energy out before he was forced back into that tiny cage, no doubt.

It was both adorable and heart breaking, watching him enjoy what was probably his first taste of freedom in so long he’d forgotten.

Caesar sat nearby, watching his new friend. He’d made sure to keep himself between us the whole time, though I was beginning to see that was just to help keep me calm.

For all his rage and hate he put behind that cage, Buck didn’t seem at all interested in hurting me or even getting close.

But time was up and Rodney would be back soon.

Caesar knew this, leaping from his perch on the rocks and landing beside me, calling out to Buck.

With one final wistful look around, Buck followed Caesar’s prompts and began to head towards us, towards his prison.

I moved aside, keeping my head down and body open.

Only, he didn’t pass us. He stopped in front of me.

And I thought standing beside Caesar was intimidating…

With Caesar, when he stood on his hind legs, you could sense there was power behind that posture. The primal side of you knew he had more strength, more smarts.

With Buck, his presence demanded you to know he could squash you like a bug. I was eye level to him and he was on all fours, his size alone commanding my body to freeze in place.

The space around him buzzed, and it seemed as though the air knew to part around him, leaving me with a tight chest and feeling suffocated.

Caesar reached over, taking my hand in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Slowly, I lifted from eyes from Buck’s hands to his face.

We looked at one another for a few moments, time having no meaning as I allowed myself to be exposed to this beautiful creature, my soul laid out for him to pick apart.

He didn’t sign, didn’t nod, didn’t smile or do anything, but I heard his words. ‘Thank you.’

“You’re welcome.” I whispered, I think. I honestly don’t think I even spoke at all, but he heard me.

He slipped back into his cage, and Caesar reluctantly locked him back inside, using a pocketknife tied to some sticks.

“Where did you get that?” I questioned, gathering the cleaning supplies and heading back to the storeroom.

Of course, I didn’t get an answer. Which was honestly answer enough.

“Is that why Dodge was being weird today?”

He shrugged.

“Oh my god, Caesar.” I rolled my eyes at him, but then another thought barged in. “Wait, did you steal Rodney’s food so he’d leave and I could do this?”

I spun to face him, and for all his great talents, hiding his guilt was not one of them.

“You will return that food to it’s rightful place right now, do you understand me?” I threatened, throwing in a pointed finger for good measure.

Of course. Leave it to Caesar to do something like that.

But, he hadn’t been selfish in his actions. What he did got me the chance to clean out Buck’s cage and, apparently, make a friend in the process.

“How’d you know I wanted to do that?” I put the bucket and mop away, closing the door behind me as we headed to Caesar’s cage.

“Your eyes.” he signed back. “You always looked so sad when you left him.”

I huffed, a sad smile tugging my lips. Yeah he’d notice. That’s what he did.

From the break room, the bell for the gate sounded. Rodney was back.

I sighed, opening my arms and wrapping them around Caesar’s middle when he pulled me into him. “I’m gonna get you all out. I just need a little more time.”

He pulled back just enough to sign to me with one hand. “The food is in the cupboard in Dodge’s desk.”

I started laughing, letting him go when he pulled away and locked himself back in his own cage. “You are such a troublemaker.”

He shrugged, which was right. Honestly, it was hard to think on a day when he wasn’t pulling some prank.

“Goodnight, Caesar.” I called over my shoulder, hitting the main lights and making my way back to the office.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

A quick breakdown of The Book of Revelation in Hannibal because unfortunately for everyone I am deeply autistic about this particular book of the Bible.

The most obvious references are found in two key places: Will Graham being depicted as the Lamb, and Francis being depicted as the Dragon, paired with Reba, the Woman Clothed in Sun.

The painting of the Red Dragon depicts a scene from Revelation, where a pregnant woman appears, clothed in sun, with the Moon beneath her feet and a crown of twelve stars upon her head appears in heaven. The Dragon too, appears, knocking stars out of the sky with his tail and standing before the woman, intending to eat her son the moment he is born. I won’t go into every detail as the painting only depicts that particular scene, but what I will say is that the Dragon fails to devour the child, and fails to kill the mother, however hard he pursues her, he is always bested by heaven.

In many ways this reflects Francis’ turmoil regarding Reba — akin to the war between heaven and the Dragon. The Dragon sees the woman, likely the Virgin Mary, as a threat, as something to be slaughtered, while Francis seeks to protect her.

The Dragon, of course, is Satan. He is described as having ten horns and seven heads, which isn’t entirely relevant to Hannibal I just love that description.

Then, there’s the Lamb. Jesus Christ.

The Lamb in Revelation is possibly one of my favourite figures, being depicted as being slain, and having seven eyes and seven horns. It is a sacrificial Lamb, but also God’s most beloved.

The Lamb is also responsible for starting the apocalypse, unleashing the first seals upon the world, and eventually, the Lamb — Jesus — will overcome the Dragon — Satan — and will rule the other for a thousand years.

When it comes to who is God, it could be either Jack or Hannibal, but I’d argue more Jack. The Lamb is deemed worthy as it has been slain and sacrificed in the name of the Lord, as Will is only worthy once he has been broken down and hurt beyond repair, nearly slain himself. Will is pushed to his limits by Jack, one sacrifice to save countless more. The Lamb’s rise is akin to Will’s becoming.

Like the Lamb, Will is defined by his empathy and compassion, but beneath the surface is God’s Old Testemant wrath, and his righteousness.

Hide us from the Wrath of the Lamb is said for a reason.

And while Francis represents Satan, Hannibal is also frequently compared to the devil as well, but more this idea of Lucifer we’ve developed. Lucifer isn’t actually a name in the Bible, it likely references the Morning Star, or Venus, and a lot of what we understand about Lucifer in modern media today tends to come from Paradise Lost — An Epic Poem written by John Milton.

Francis is the Dragon, but Hannibal represents a more modern idea of the Devil.

Why am I bringing this up? Because the Wrath of the Lamb finds both of them. Jesus is always guaranteed to win against the Devil. It’s the nature of Revelation, a pre-destined prophecy of the end. Will kills Francis, and he takes himself and Hannibal off the cliffside, leaving their fates to chance.

[synthapostate]

The Predator: I read this book for the first time in the back of my grandparents’ car on my way to spend the weekend with them. I was excited to have a Marco POV book at last. “Oh boy,” I thought, “Marco’s humor is so great! This book is going to be so much fun!”

Let me tell you, the TEARS I CRIED right in the middle of the Sunshine Skyway Bridge.

- My name is Marco.

I can't tell you my last name or where I live. Believe me, I wish I could. I would like nothing more than to be able to tell you my name is Marco Jones or Williams or Vasquez or Brown or Anderson or McCain.

Marco McCain. Has kind of a nice sound, doesn't it?

But McCain's not my last name. I'm not even going to swear to you that Marco is my first name. See, I'm hoping to live awhile longer. I'm not going to make it any easier for the Yeerks to find me.

I always did wonder what Marco’s last name actually was. We do eventually learn Jake’s, and by extension Rachel’s, since we also know that their dads are brothers. We know Tobias’s, unless that was magic-retconned by spacetime weirdness. We don’t know Cassie’s, but I feel like she might have dropped some hints. But Marco is the one I think would throw out a lot of false leads, and play his real cards close to his chest.

Even though. Marco. Baby boy. Given the way this book goes, I don’t think it’s going to make a difference if we don’t know your name. Visser One knows exactly where to find you.

- Three punks. Each of them probably twice as big as I was. I'm not exactly Arnold Schwarzenegger. I'm not even average height for my age, although I make up for it by being incredibly cute.

And charming. And witty. And modest.

But I was pretty sure the three big gang members in that alley were not going to be very impressed by my cuteness.

Fortunately, I have other abilities.

Marco is the smart one. The careful one. The one who is trying hardest not to get himself killed. But he does have the capacity for heroism, just as much as any of the others, even though he’d be the first to pretend otherwise. And he is not about to let a bunch of assholes beat up some old man, so in a move worthy of Rachel, he morphs gorilla (in broad daylight, dammit kid) and kicks their asses. Unfortunately, he also scares the hell out of their intended victim, who steals a mugger’s gun and tries to shoot Marco. “Which just goes to show you why you should never get involved in other people's problems.”

- He describes Cassie as “like sincere or something.” Adorable.

- Ax’s big plan in this book is to steal a Yeerk spaceship so he can go home. Ax may be tech savvy, but he is very much not the brains of this operation. It’s a good thing he’s named Jake his Prince, because Ax should not be making his own plans.

- “According to Cassie and Rachel, Ax is cute. I wouldn't know, being a guy.”

Marco sometimes makes statements like this, but he is the most queercoded character in this admittedly very straight series. It was the ‘90s and he’s twelve, so I don’t expect him to come out as a genderfluid pansexual, but. You see my vision? I see my vision.

Also, he’s talking about Ax’s Andalite body, not his human morph, so either the girls are both into that, or Marco thinks boys aren’t supposed to understand even the concept of cuteness. Honestly, I want to go ahead and say Rachel and Cassie are tumblr-level monsterfuckers, decades ahead of their time.

- <Fear is unworthy of a warrior.>

He seemed a little too determined for me. I don't know much about Andalites, but I had a feeling I understood this one, at least a little. See, he was alive. But every other Andalite who had come to Earth, including Ax's brother, the prince, was dead.

So I took a shot. It wasn't fair, maybe, but he'd made me mad, acting like I was some kind of coward. "How many times have you fought Hork-Bajir? Or any other Controller?" I asked him.

His stalk eyes drooped. He pawed the ground with one hoof. <Never,> he said.

I nodded. "I thought so. So let me tell you something, Ax. It's scary. It's so scary that some times you wish you could just go ahead and die because it's easier than dealing with the terror."

Ax is so young here. The kids went to rescue a stranded Andalite thinking they would find someone who could take the responsibility of fighting a war off their shoulders, and what they found was a half-trained cadet who has never even seen combat. The five of them are far more experienced than he is. They already understand war. They know that Ax’s ideas about fighting for “honor” are bullshit.

There are no adults coming to their rescue, just some dumb kid who insists on calling Jake his Prince because he needs to follow someone’s orders. And the Animorphs, who in comparison are practically hardened veterans, are going to have to look after him.

- So anyway, we get some wacky hijinks at the mall.

- "So far, so good," Jake said as we headed into the mall.

I rolled my eyes. "Jake? Do me a favor. Don't ever say 'so far, so good.' The only time anyone ever says 'so far, so good' is right before every thing blows up in his face."

"So far. So far. Farrrrr. Faaaar," Ax said, trying out the sounds. "So. Sssso far so so so good."

"Oh, man," I said.

Andalites don’t have mouths in their own bodies, so speaking is weird for Ax when he morphs human. But mouths can do more than that! Ax ditches the guys and goes straight to Starbucks. Apparently he understands waiting in line to order, so Jake is forced to pay for his double latte.

- "A hole! In the lid! No spills! Ills!"

This was the coolest thing Ax had ever seen. I guess coffee cup technology hasn't advanced very far on the Andalite home world. Probably be cause they don't have mouths, and so drinking is not a big concern. But whatever the reason, Ax wouldn't shut up about it.

I love when Ax is blown away by mundane human technology, although when it comes up in the future, it tends to be alien fish out of water stuff just for the sake of silliness. This one actually makes sense.

- "Ahhh! Ohhh! Oh, oh, oh, what? What? What is that?!"

"What?" I asked, alarmed. I swiveled my head back and forth, looking for some danger.

"A new sense. It . . .I cannot explain it. It is . . .it comes from this mouth." He pointed at his mouth. "It happened when I drank this liquid. It was pleasant. Very pleasant."

It took a few seconds for Jake and I to realize what he was talking about. "Oh. Taste! He's tasting it," Jake said. "He doesn't normally have the sense of taste."

"At least he stopped repeating sounds," I muttered.

"Taste," Ax said, contradicting me. "Aste. Tuh-aste."

Jake never should have bought him that coffee. Opened a whole can of worms there.

- Ax was nowhere to be seen.

But then I looked down at the lower level. There was a crowd of people kind of surging. All moving in the same direction. Like they were running to see something.

"They're heading toward the food court," Jake said.

"Oh, I have a very bad feeling about this," I said.

At least he’s not hard to find…

- And there, all alone - because all the sane people had pulled away - was Ax.

He was racing like some lunatic from table to table, snatching up leftover food and shoving it in his mouth.

As I watched he grabbed a half-eaten slice of pizza.

"Taste!" he yelled as he scarfed a huge bite. He threw the rest of the pizza through the air. It just missed the mall cop who was closing in on him.

Ax couldn't care less. He had found a piece of Cinnabun. "This was the smell!" he cried. He jammed the roll in his mouth. "Ahhh! Ahhh! Taste! Taste! Wonderful! Ful. Ful."

"They do make a good sticky bun," I muttered to Jake.

So it’s understandable that Ax is overwhelmed by his new sense of taste. The kids often have trouble controlling their instincts in new morphs, and this is something completely unlike anything he’s ever experienced. It also makes sense that he doesn’t understand the idiom when Marco tells him to “throw away” his trash, and it’s just good comedy when he throws away the cinnamon bun and hits the nearest cop in the face.

But then he demorphs in the middle of a crowded food court. This kid is dumb as a rock.

- They escape the cops by running into the grocery store, jumping into the lobster tank, and morphing lobsters, a morph that is described as horrifying even by their standards. Then they’re purchased, and put on ice, which makes them zone out to the point that it doesn’t occur to them to demorph until the two hour time limit is almost up. And what is it that finally wakes Marco up? Steam.

- And maybe it was because I was so desperate to scream, or maybe it was just the luck of the morph, but my human mouth was one of the first things to emerge.

Small, open lips appeared in place of my lobster mouth.

I didn't have normal lungs or vocal cords yet, so I couldn't make a sound.

But I guess I didn't have to.

I guess suddenly having lips appear on a lobster was enough to make the woman drop me.

Lol Jesus Christ. They traumatize this poor woman who’s just trying to cook a fancy dinner. They traumatize themselves, too. Marco has a nightmare that night—shockingly enough, this is not something that occurs in every one of these books—and wakes up with someone holding him. He then further upsets both himself and his dad by saying, “Mom?”

They have a moment where they try to talk about her, but in the end it only reinforces how much Peter has been broken by the loss of his wife. Tragically, Marco thinks that when his dad looks at him, he’s only seeing “a picture of someone else.”

- "Two years, to the day. Two years since my mom died. And I don't know what to do. I don't know whether I should talk to my dad about it, or just let it pass. But I know one thing - this would be a really bad week for me to turn up dead."

Marco often makes this kind of argument in the early books, when he’s (rightfully!) concerned about a mission going bad. I really like the way Marco’s grief over his mom’s death is handled. His reactions when he’s reminded of his mom are often more mature than you’d expect from a twelve year old who acts like such a little shit most of the time, and that’s because he’s been put in the very unfair position of having to take care of his dad, who has completely fallen to pieces and shows no sign that he even wants to get his life back together. Out of all the kids, Marco is the only one who has lost a family member, other than Ax, who hasn’t had to deal with the aftermath of his brother’s death (and, being considerably younger than he was, doesn’t seem to have known him very well.) Marco has seen firsthand what grief can do to someone. More than any of the others, he understands what they’re risking by fighting this war.

But he also understands what it will do to Ax’s parents to have two sons go off into space and never come home, and never even know what happened to them. So Marco agrees to another dangerous mission, just like he always does.

- They have to sneak back into Chapman’s house to steal a very small piece of Yeerk technology, and in order to do this, they decide to morph ants. Ants. ANTS. Which they all ASSUME will go just FINE, NO BIG DEAL, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG? IT’S JUST ANTS, GUYS. NO PROBLEM.

- It’s not okay. It’s not okay, it’s not okay, it’s not okay, it’s not okay, it’s not okay.

No other morph of the series will ever top the horror of ant.

I have been, at times, tempted to use this book as the inspiration for a kaiju hivemind fic, but I simply don’t have the stomach for it. No ants. NO ANTS.

No ants.

- Ax looked at me and smiled in that way Andalites have of smiling with just their eyes. He touched a small cube I thought was a paperweight. The paperweight lit up and projected a picture into the air in front of me.

"Cool," I said. "A computer, right?"

<Yes. A computer.>

I poked the air, pointing at a symbol that looked like it would be a folder. It opened. The document was written in some totally alien alphabet.

<You can use a computer?>

"Sure. Why not? This is a few hundred years more advanced than ours but - "

Haha, interesting given what we’ll later learn about the guy who invented Windows.

- <It is an announcement. The Yeerks have an important visitor arriving soon. Visser One.>

"Visser One? That would be like Visser Three's boss?"

As a kid, I was a little confused that some Yeerks were called by ranks—Vissers and Sub-Vissers all numbered to indicate their place in the hierarchy—and others used personal names, which were still numbered, but don’t indicate hierarchy? Iniss Two-Two-Six is supposed to be a high-ranking Controller, but he doesn’t have a rank. I don’t understand how their military works.

- “Everyone, morph back. Let's bail."

It was the moment I dreaded. I didn't want to return to that ant body. It made me want to cry, just thinking of it.”

Me, too. ANTS ARE NOT OKAY.

They are not okay. They make it out alive, but they are not okay.

- I saw Jake in the hallway at school. I pretended not to notice him.

I saw Rachel, too. She had a dark look in her eyes. Like she hadn't slept. Like something was really wrong.

Even Cassie seemed grim. It had gotten to all of us. It's not so easy to just forget terror. It's not easy to just ignore the memory of your leg being ripped off.

Of being dismembered. Torn apart.

One of these days, I thought, one of us is going to go crazy. Totally, lock-me-up-in-a-rubber-room nutso. It was too much. This wasn't how life was supposed to be.

One of us would snap. One of us would lose it. It could happen, even to strong people.

War is hell.

Sometimes it’s war against the Yeerks. Sometimes it’s a rival ant colony.

Either way, war is hell.

- "Yesterday . . .last night . . .it got to me," she said. She shrugged. Then she smiled her supermodel smile at me. "You grind my nerves sometimes, Marco, always joking the way you do. But keep it up, okay? We need a sense of humor."

"Humor? You thought I was kidding? You mean, you and Jessica aren't both insanely in love with me?"

"Dream on, Marco," she said.

A rare moment of bonding between Rachel and Marco, when he tries to stop her from fighting with a normal human girl at school. “And you, Rachel, of all people!” Assistant Principal Chapman exclaims, because at this point Rachel is still Miss Perfect—this is the first, but not the last, instance of her failure to compartmentalize the violence that becomes more and more a part of their lives. Marco tells Chapman the girls were fighting over him, which Rachel finds funny, and she compliments him for being so cool and in control. Rachel knows she’s losing control, but she’s still trying to fight against it. Just like Tobias in #3, Marco makes her feel normal.

Rachel/Marco is my favorite non-canon ship, by the way. They have a lot of friction, but when they do get along, they’re great together.

But in spite of Rachel’s assertion that they need him and his sense of humor, Marco decides to quit the team. This is going to be his last mission. Jake is surprisingly understanding, telling Marco he’s done more than enough.

I love that he’s given this opportunity to back out, and not shamed for it. These children have taken on the responsibility of saving the world, and that responsibility is far too much for them. They shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.

"But I'll tell you one thing, Jake. A year from now I don't want my dad going to leave flowers at two graves."

I’m not crying, you’re crying—okay, I’m crying.

- So yet again, the mission goes bad! Ax tries to steal a Yeerk ship by sending out a distress signal on what turns out to be an outdated frequency. Visser Three immediately spots that this is a trap, because Ax is dumb as a rock.

The kids are captured and brought aboard the mother ship to be shown to Visser One—who Visser Three clearly loathes. Yeerk politics! I’m so happy. The Yeerks are not a monolithic sci-fi race, they have factions.Finally, we find a weakness! The kids rarely score a major victory in battle, especially this early on, but they tend to see better results when they play the Yeerks against each other.

- Below us, blue and white and so beautiful it brought tears to your eyes, was Earth.

Sun sparkled off the ocean. Clouds swirled over the Gulf of Mexico, a big spiral, maybe a hurricane.

<Look,> Cassie said simply.

We looked. Through the eyes of the animals of Earth, but with the minds of human beings, we looked down at our planet.

This series is so full of hope, and so much love for our beautiful world. :)

So anyway, they meet Visser One.

- They marched up to the bottom of the ramp. A dozen soldiers leveled Dracon beams at us, just in case we wanted any trouble.

Then, in thought-speak that all could hear, Visser Three turned to the woman beside him. <You see, Visser One. I have taken the Andalite bandits. The crisis is over. Your trip here is wasted, and you can return to the home world.>

Visser One nodded. She looked up at us with those dark brown, human eyes.

Eyes I knew. Eyes I remembered.

The same eyes that watched me sleep every night from the framed picture beside my bed.

My mother.

Visser One.

(The tears I cried in the middle of the Sunshine Skyway.)

- When had it happened? Had the Yeerks taken her much earlier? Had she already been a Controller for those last years when she was with us?

When she had come to my bedroom to say good night, had that been a Yeerk slug, just playing a part, like an actor?

When I tried to fake sick to get out of school, had it been a Yeerk who saw through my story and kidded and joked me into admitting it?

Was it a Yeerk, handing out the presents on Christmas morning? A Yeerk, singing in the church choir? A Yeerk, pulling the puppet strings of my mother's body when she dragged me through J. C. Penney's and made me buy school clothes I didn't really like?

Was it a Yeerk I used to find making out with my dad like a teenager when they didn't think I saw them?

All of it an act? All of it fake? For how many years?

How much of what I'd thought was my mother, had been . . .one of them?

The tears I cried all the way across the Sunshine Skyway. My grandparents had no idea what was wrong with me.

- Marco comes up with a plan to escape their holding cell. It’s not a plan that will get them back to Earth, but it would let them get free and possibly disable or destroy the Yeerk mothership. It’s a good plan, even though it would mean leaving Tobias behind, and EVEN THOUGH IT INVOLVES MORPHING ANTS AGAIN. But before they can go through with it, Yeerk politics! Visser One’s people help them escape, which will be very embarrassing for Visser Three.

And they go home. Leaving Marco’s mother behind. Only Jake knows. Marco’s dedication to the mission, his personal reason for fighting the war, comes in the form of a secret he keeps from the rest of the team.

- <No one ever finds out. No one can ever know.>

<Okay, Marco,> he said.

<My mother died two years ago tomorrow.>

<That's how it will be, my friend.>

<Yeah. But someday . . .> Someday, somehow, in some way that I could not foresee, we would win this battle. Humans and Andalites together would defeat the Yeerks. And we would free all of their slaves.

All of them.

<Someday,> I whispered again.

<Someday, Marco,> Jake said.

I miss my mom.

[cirrusea]

Hello Trollhunters fandom, I'm here to tell you why I (an autistic person) headcanon Jim as autistic even tho no one asked <3 I think the Jimhunters episode is the best example so I want to delve into it a little; also this is the first time I've really made an analysis post so bear with me! Under the cut bc it's gonna be long-ish.

First of course we have Jim being uncomfortable with the sudden physical change, eventually running off to think and be alone

Then he tries to regain some sense of normalcy and comfort by cooking (which is possibly one of his special interests)

...until he realizes human food tastes terrible now. He also probably realizes that now he can't partake in this comfort activity anymore, or at least not in the same way, and he starts to spiral

He needs to be alone again and goes to his room (which could also be motivated by embarrassment from his outburst/potential breakdown, in my experience I HATE being emotional in front of others, it makes it even more overwhelming). There he tries to take off the amulet and his armor, and finds out he can't.

And it all boils over into what looks very much like a meltdown; clawing at the armor, hitting things off his desk, throwing himself into the wall.

He runs away again and seeks comfort by going to the school, but only breaks down further as he realizes he can't go to school like a normal human anymore. Another example of a routine that's now suddenly impossible to maintain, which is often very upsetting to autistic people (speaking from experience).

Again, distances himself from his loved ones. I can imagine him thinking that they might not want him around anymore, if they see that he's changed, he's different.

He feels like he's lost his sense of identity (What am I, Blinky?), which can be a hard thing for me and other autistics to grasp. But eventually he accepts his loved ones' support. (and boy does he look exhausted by then, because meltdowns are extremely draining. Bro probably slept twelve hours after this)

And here's the hug, if y'all need cheering up after all that angst :)

Like I said, I bet there are lots more examples I could find combing through the series, but I'm at the photo limit and this is the strongest evidence I think there is. Of course it's just my headcanon, I don't think the writers actually intended for him to be autistic-coded, and I'm definitely not saying everyone has to headcanon this too. I just love Jim as a character so much and wanted to try making a little analysis post for once, cuz I feel a little more represented thinking about characters with traits and arcs like this. I hope it's comprehensible haha

[wasborntobeacowboy]

MY (very unfinished) LOTF GREEK MYTHOLOGY AU 🤗🤗PLS HELP ME WITH IT

this post is just gonna be an info dump about a lotf ancient greece au im making that you may have seen me yap about before. disclaimer i am NOT an expert in greek myth at all, my info comes from that time i read percy jackson and wikipedia as god intended (this post is unfinished i’ll edit it as i continue to make the au)PLSPLSPLS GIVE ME MORE IDEAS IM BEGGING

SO LETS BEGIN

general stuff:

takes place during the trojan war. a ship carrying boys to war sunk near a remote island in the mediterranean

it’s aged up only because i don’t think they sent twelve year olds to war unfortunately 😔 so the “littluns” are around 16-17 and the “biguns” are 18-19 maybe 20

no they wouldn’t have had generic english names but i’m gonna use them anyways to avoid confusion (it’s also annoying trying to find generic ancient greek names that fit them 😭)

the ship had lots of weapons, armor, etc on it but most was lost in the wreck. some was salvaged tho

i didn’t intend for this to be a no rescue au at first but i kinda just unintentionally started imagining it as one so it is now (the ship the boys were on was one of the last ones to leave so no one passed the island they were on)(or something)(idk ill think of a better explanation later)

—-

JACK:

he’s an avid worshipper of dionysus. dionysus is the god of wine and fruit but more importantly for us the god of madness, festivity, and insanity and was said to induce a frenzy in people. do you see where i’m going with this. is that not jack and his tribe core

over time jack begins to think that he was “chosen” by dionysus. he makes the other boys bow down to him and eventually starts wearing a war helmet (he did the paint for a bit but that wasn’t enough for this freak i guess) cuz he believes they’re not worthy to see his face

he didn’t leave for war willingly, he was dragged kicking and screaming (valid tbh). on the island he tries to act all tuff like he was gonna be some war hero or smth cuz he’s ashamed of the fact that he didn’t, and still doesn’t, want to go at all. bro is grateful the ship sunk 😭

SIMON:

bro is basically cassandra: an oracle dedicated to apollo but cursed by him to tell true prophecies but never be believed 😔😔

like when he tried to tell them about the beast (who is actually some other dude that got lost on the island many moons ago or smth) and they murdered him (the other boys were in a dionysus-induced frenzy at the time)(they would’ve killed him either way tho tbh)

someone came up with this idea on one of my other posts but when he’s getting mauled he says “et tu, ralph?” cuz isn’t that awesome (hes not julius caesar 😔 but still)

IM GONNA BE SO HONEST THATS ALL I HAVE SO FAR PLEASEEE GIVE ME MORE IDEAS

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 8

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav snaps. Her determination to get out becomes stronger than ever and she decides to change her tactics when it comes to dealing with Raphael.

AN: This turned super horny, idk what to tell ya. Also, I found it really difficult to write Hope because she just acts and speaks in such a specific way that's really hard to capture.

TW: Mentions of Abuse

WARNING: NSFW

Tav sat up in the bed and looked at him. Raphael so blatantly admitting to what he had done had made something snap in her head. It was as she was finally resurfacing back to reality and back to the person she had been before Raphael had gotten his claws in her. For the first time since she got to the House of Hope, she saw him for what he was.

“I thought you said that your plan was to kill my friends and then me,” Tav said with a calmness that surprised even herself.

“And I am a man of my word,” Raphael said, still lying in bed. He was studying her face for a reaction. “I never specified when. I will one day take your soul, which is my property by right, and should your friends decide to pay us a visit I will kill them. Though I have removed any motivation they might have to come knocking on my door, for which you are very welcome, by the way.”

He ran his fingers over the metal cuffs around her wrists.

“So, you are not even trying to lure my friends here. You intend to keep me here…indefinitely...” Tav said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” he answered. “I made it clear from the beginning that you would never leave, did I not? Death would have been all to easy for such a fearless little thing like you. It has been much more fascinating to see you trying deal with all those wonderful conflicting feelings of yours.”

She could see it in his eyes and his widening smile that he was expecting a reaction from her by saying this. He wanted her to get angry, to cry, to be scared. Something in his eyes reminded her of her father. The way he would look at her after he had beat her or said something cruel to her to get a reaction out of her during her childhood. That gleeful anticipation as they waited for her to either explode or break.

She looked at him and was quiet for a moment. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears out of anger, but her expression remained unreadable.

Then a smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward to brush a hand over his hair. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and he froze.

She wished that she could bottle up the look of genuine confusion she saw on his face.

She did not say anything. She just laid back down on the bed beside him. She pulled his arm around herself and got comfortable.

Raphael had made a misstep in his eagerness to piss her off: he had admitted that it was not his plan to kill her anytime soon.

Tav was not going to let herself be a passive player in his little game anymore. She would play and she would win. Not by giving him the resistance that he seemed to be thriving on, but by giving him exactly what he wanted.

He had told her the first day they met that he liked when people put up a fight. She would not. She would shower him with affection, heed his every whim, be his adoring little mouse, and when she finally found that damn hammer, she would watch him burn, just as she had watched her father do all those years ago.

As always, he was gone when she woke up. She got dressed. Instead of searching for the least provocative piece of clothing she could find as she usually would have, she grabbed a rather revealing dress from the wardrobe.

It was a tight-fitting dress with a plunging neckline in a burnt orange color that complimented her red hair. There was a matching gold choker with yellow stones that she also put on.

It looked completely foreign on her who had mostly dressed in thick robes for the majority of her life. It felt more like a costume, she thought as she looked herself in the mirror. Then again, she was definitely playing a part with what she had planned, so perhaps it was fitting.

She left the boudoir. She reached the entrance to the main area where she usually ate her breakfast when she stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened.

With her back turned to Tav, she was looking out over the balcony: it was Hope.

Hope! How could she had forgotten Hope? Tav felt terrible but she had not as much as given a thought to the odd Dwarven woman she had met back when she had broken into Raphael’s home. Tav had even promised to free her, she remembered with a knot in her stomach.

It had been too risky to free her. She even remembered selfishly thinking to herself that it was not her problem before they left. What Raphael did in his privacy was not her business. Neither her nor her companions ever spoke about her after they had left.

How fitting that Tav herself should end up in the very same position as her. She really did deserve it in a way, she thought to herself. She completely understood why Hope had stayed away from her during her time there. She had every right to hate her.

“Hope…?” Tav called out softly.

The projection of Hope turned around and a wide cheery smile spread across her face.

“There you areee! And without my sister or his new one at your heels!” she said in a cheerful tone. “He has barely had time to torture me since you got here, you know? Maybe if he leaves me long enough, I’ll be in one piece for the first time in years!”

The sad and pitying look in Tav’s eyes strongly contrasted Hope’s cheerful demeanor.

“What is it? Are you hurt?” Hope asked, looking her up and down. “Hurt, but you still look like you are in one piece…Hm…Oh! Oh! Did he drown you? Suffocate you? Was it the Omuan dreamcatcher? Oh, he loves that one.”

“I’m fine, Hope…” Tav said quietly as she tried to hold back the ocean of emotions that was building up inside herself by seeing Hope again.

She could not even begin to imagine the things Hope had endured. Her heart had sunk to the floor. Who knows how long Hope had resisted Raphael’s persistence? And Tav had brushed her off back then instead of saving her while she still had a chance…

“Oooh, no one’s fine here for long,” Hope said with the same manic intensity. “He prods and pokes and slices and cuts and then he puts you back together to do it all over again!”

Tav took a deep breath. The guilt she was feeling was crushing her.

“I’m so sorry, Hope,” Tav managed to say. “For not saving you back then…”

Hope went quiet for a moment.

“And I’m sorry that you are here…” Hope said in a sad tone, though it quickly turned hopeful again. “But…your friends will come with the hammer and save you! Maybe they will smash my chains as well. Oh, please don’t leave me here after you kill him…”

Tav sighed. She almost did not have the heart to tell her.

“My friends can’t get to it right now…Raphael took it back,” Tav said in a defeated voice. “But I’m determined to find out where he is hiding it. When I do, I will free both of us.”

Hope's smile returned even bigger than before.

“This is great news!” Hope said. “It means it’s here. It will be, it has to be, it is! It’s hidden, but it’s here.”

Tav’s brow furrowed.

“How are you so sure?” she asked.

“It’s what he does…” Hope said, still smiling but with a sad tone in her voice again. “He dangles things right in front of your nose. Freedom, riches, everything you could ever want! Always so close that you can smell it and always just out of reach.”

The projection of Hope froze after they both heard a noise. A servant was walking down the corridor towards them.

“Oh! I have to go,” Hope whispered.

“No, wait—” Tav said, but Hope had already disappeared.

Tav was looking at the spot where she had just stood. If Hope was right, there was a chance that she could find the Orphic Hammer and escape on her own without the help of her friends, which would be ideal.

Her meeting with Hope reaffirmed her plan. Resisting him was not the way to go. Hope was the living example of that. Perhaps, there was a chance that he would even grow bored with her if she simply gave him what he wanted.

She would keep the peace. She would keep him happy and distracted for as long as it would take her to figure out how to escape and then she would strike.

She had been scouring the parts of the house that she could access without servants or debtors watching her for where Raphael might be hiding the hammer. There were a couple of options for where it could be that she knew of: the archive or the vault.

It was obviously not on display in the archive, but she knew that there were more to the archive than what met the eye. She had heard that more artifacts were hidden in the bowels of the house underneath the archive. How she would access it or even find the entrance, she was not sure, but perhaps Hope knew if she could find her again.

Then there was the vault. Her and Gale had tried to break into it back when they had broken into his house, but without any luck. The lock was heavily protected with magic, but if she could get to it without any debtors or servants watching, she might be able to crack it with enough time on her hands.

She had given up for the day, but at least she now had some leads as to where to look. She knew that it would not be long until Raphael arrived home again, so she sat down in the archive to read and prepare herself for her role as his adoring prisoner.

For once he sought out her and not the other way around. He entered the archive and smiled when he saw her. He was in human form. She looked up from her book and smiled back warmly, without showing as much as a trace of bitterness in her expression. She saw him narrow his eyes at that, but his smile did not falter.

It was clear that he was still waiting for a reaction. For her to either explode or break down crying. It was delicious to see him treading so carefully, because he was not sure what to do next. She was not following the script that he had so carefully planned out for her, and she could see that underneath his smile, there was a tinge of frustration over it.

“Evening,” Tav said breaking the silence.

He took a seat in the sofa opposite from where she was sitting.

“Good evening,” he said back, still studying her face for a reaction.

Tav’s smile widened as she noticed how he had decided to sit away from her. She closed the book she was reading and put it on the table before getting up from her seat. She walked over to where he was sitting at a leisurely pace. He sat in silence as his eyes followed her every step.

He then seemed to notice she was wearing much more revealing clothing than she usually did. His eyes were devouring her exposed skin for a moment before they settled back on her face.

She sat down right beside him on the sofa. She leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek that seemed as casual as if she had done it a hundred times before. His body tensed but he did not move away from her.

“How was your day?” she asked with a bright smile.

She could see that there was a bit of amusement to his smile now. It was clear that he was not quite sure what was happening, but he knew that she was up to something.

“Slightly tedious,” he answered casually. His eyes drifted down to her dress and lingered on her cleavage for a moment. “You look even lovelier than usual. The dress suits you…as does that charming smile of yours. You really should smile more, my dear.”

Tav’s eye twitched in annoyance at his last comment, but she quickly hid it. Though not quickly enough that Raphael did not notice it, and she could see the satisfaction in his smile at his comment managing to get a reaction from her, albeit a small one.  

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to notice,” she said instead of the many things she wanted to say to that comment. “It’s difficult to smile when I miss you so much all the time.”

“Is that so?” he purred and snaked his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

She was not fooling him, and she could see it in his face, though that did not stop him from seeing how far he could push her in the little game they were playing.

“Mhm” she affirmed and leaned more against him.

“Hm,” he hummed and kissed the side of her head before murmuring into her ear: “Nothing ruins a good play quite like actors overplaying their parts, dear.”

She smiled and turned her head towards him. Her nose was almost touching his and she was looking directly into his brown eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” she said before kissing him.

He kissed her back and tightened his grip around her waist. He put his other arm under her leg and lifted her to sit on his lap.

He was in control again and Tav was not having it. She was done with simply letting him do what he wanted to her and be a passive participant like she always was with him.

She snaked her arm down between them and felt his hardening erection. He made a low groan in response and his tongue invaded her mouth. Both of his hands were around her, kneading her ass as she rubbed him through his pants. It did not take long before she could feel that he was fully hard.  

She tried to discreetly unbutton his pants while they were kissing, but one of his hands slid up her back and into her hair. He yanked her head back.

“What is it that you are trying to achieve with all of this?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Though his question had no doubt been meant to sound threatening, his tone and dilated pupils revealed just how aroused he was.

Tav smiled. Oh, she was having fun with this. It was immensely satisfying for her to finally see him a little rattled and confused. She traced the outline of his cock through his pants.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

Raphael growled in a way that sounded simultaneously aroused and frustrated, as she touched him. He yanked her head back further, so her neck was exposed to him. He left a kiss and a gentle bite just above the choker she was wearing, before letting go of her hair.

“Off,” he commanded. He gave her a firm but not painful slap on her ass and then gestured for her to get off his lap so they could go to the bedroom.

 

To her surprise he indulged her and let her take the lead, at least for the moment it seemed. He had always been on top of her, but now she was on top of him, kissing her way down his body. She heard his breathing become heavier and heavier the closer she came to the part of him that was aching for her.

The moment her kisses and bites down his stomach reached to just above his cock, she heard his breath hitch slightly at the sensation. She saw his cock twitch in anticipation. It was her first time seeing it so up close. Even in his human form it was impressive in both length and girth.

She teased him by leaving sloppy kisses and small licks up and down his shaft, all while keeping eye contact with him. She could see that the teasing was getting to him. His body was aching for her, and he seemed to be on the verge of losing control.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked impatiently, referring to her endless teasing. She could hear that he was getting impatient, but it was too delicious to have him in the palm of her hand like that for her to stop.

“Mhm,” she affirmed and ran her lips over his shaft, earning her a groan.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair. He was not taking control over her movements yet, but it was a clear warning that he would if she kept going.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” she said.

She teased the head of his cock with her tongue. It made him instinctively tighten his grip on her hair and groan deeply.

“Is that so?” he said. “So is humility, I hear.”

With that he pushed her head down, signaling that he was done waiting. He inhaled sharply as she took him fully in her mouth. When she began moving her head up and down on her own, his grip on her hair loosened and he let her do it at her own pace.

It did not take long before she managed to push him over the edge. She dug her nails into his thighs as he came in her mouth. He held her hair in a grip that told her that he expected her to swallow. His seed was almost burning in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow.

He was breathless. He loosened his grip and ran his fingers through her hair instead.

“Such a good little mouse,” he said condescendingly, almost as if to a pet, which somehow managed to both piss her off and turn her on at the same time. “Come here.”

He gestured for her to kiss him. As she did, she wondered exactly how far he would let her take her little game. She felt daring. She wondered, not for the first time, how it would be to sit on that smug face of his and shut him up.

She moved further up his chest, and he must have guessed her intentions, because he smirked and grabbed her. He pushed her backwards, so she landed on her back. He pinned her to the mattress and then he started kissing his way down her body, the same way she had done with him.

“Control freak,” she muttered under her breath. She received a bite on her stomach for that comment.

Raphael was twice the tease that she had been. When he finally reached her now dripping core, he started teasing her with his tongue in an excruciatingly slow pace. She bucked her hips against his mouth, which only made him grab around her thighs to hold her down.

“Tut-tut. Patience is a virtue, dearest,” he said repeating her own words.

“You’re—” she interrupted herself with a moan as Raphael lightly ran the tip of his tongue over her clit. “You’re hilarious…”

So much for staying in control and not being a passive participant. Raphael was being relentless with his teasing, to the point where she was becoming a moaning and dripping mess under him. It went on for a long time and it was pure torture.

“Perhaps I would be able to find a shred of sympathy for you, if you begged nicely,” he suddenly said. She could feel him smile against her inner thigh, as he kissed and nibbled at the skin there.

Tav had to remind herself of the role she was currently playing. She was supposed to indulge him in what he wanted instead of resisting.

“Please…” she said.

“Oh, come now, dear,” Raphael said and looked up at her with a look that was downright sinful. He inserted a single finger into her, making her grasp the sheets. “Surely you can do better than that.”

He curled his finger inside her.

“Please, Raphael,” she moaned. She almost cringed at how pathetic and desperate she sounded.

“Much better,” he said and spread her legs slightly more.

He transformed into his devil form without warning, making her jump slightly in surprise. She seemed a bit confused with why he would suddenly do so, until he lowered his head between her legs.

“Mind the horns…” he said before he started eating her out.

He had to hold her legs open, so that she would not instinctively close them and hurt herself on his horns because of the sensation she felt between her legs. She suddenly understood why she had changed into that form: his tongue was not only longer but it was also forked.

He was looking up at her through the whole thing. He was making a low rumbling noise in his chest that almost sounded like a deep purring sound as he hungrily ate her out. His long tongue was inside her, and it almost sent her over the edge immediately.

She came harder than she ever had before, and it took her by complete surprise. She was grasping the sheets and on the verge of screaming as her climax washed over her. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath as it passed. Her legs were shaking, and she could hear Raphael chuckle as he was looking at the state of her.

Fuck him for being able to make her feel like that, Tav thought.

He leaned over her and kissed her. His long tongue was almost in her throat, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was passionate, hot, and intoxicating. When he let go of the kiss, his gaze went from her lips to her eyes.

She was looking directly into his burning orange eyes when he suddenly changed back into his human form. He kissed her again, but this time it felt sweeter and more loving. His hand was caressing her face gently.

He left sweet kisses down her jaw and neck before laying his head on her chest. An all too vulnerable gesture that made her freeze.

She was not quite sure how to react.

She put her hand on his head with the gentleness of someone daring to touch an animal that might bite them. When he did not move or make a snarky comment at the gesture, she started slowly massaging his scalp with her fingers.

He made a low rumbling noise that almost sounded like a purr. He fell asleep on her chest not long after. Tav could not sleep. His arm was around her waist and his head was resting over her heart as he began snoring softly. She looked down at him. This man who was bigger than her and who was snuggling up to her in a way that seemed completely out of character for someone like him.

There he was, the devil that rips people apart simply to put them back together and start all over again, being infuriatingly human and vulnerable in her arms.

He was doing it on purpose, the bastard, Tav thought. He knew that she was playing games with him and now he was doing the same to her just to assert control over the situation.

She would not be fooled by him again, but she would play along.

[delulu247baby]

🟡Why I think we as a fandom should associate the colour Yellow with Sunny just like we associate the colour pink&red/orange/green/blue/purple with Aubrey/Kel/Basil/Hero/Mari more often.🟡

1: yellow and it's symbolisms according to Google and multiple web sites represents:

Positively:

1:Optimism and Hope:

While this doesn't exactly fit him ingame or pregame, I can definitely see it fitting in post game. Where the truth is finally out, and he's moving to a new city full of opportunity and something new. Filled with optimism & hope.

2:Energy and Excitement:

"Yellow is known for its stimulating effect, making it a good choice for situations and products intended to create a sense of excitement or energy."

While this definitely doesnt fit sunny as a character, it can be seen as opposite to him. "In battle, Sunny cannot become Happy under any circumstances; even if cheats are used to alter the party's emotions, he is completely immune to becoming Happy. He is the only character in both reality and Headspace where this is the case.

In fact, Sunny's sprite sheet does not even have portrait frames for him being Happy.

Uniquely, he also cannot become Depressed or Enraged, whereas all other party members in reality can with cheats." -SUNNY TRIVIA OMORI WIKI

3:Creativity and Innovation:

"Yellow is often associated with creativity, imagination, and intellectual stimulation, making it a good choice for environments where these qualities are valued. "

"SUNNY has also always had a very vivid imagination. He enjoys toys and video games and tends to get lost in daydreams.[12] However, after MARI's death, these daydreams turned into the full-out escapism of HEADSPACE as he became too afraid to face the truth. " - OMORI Wiki

4:Attention and Alertness:

"Yellow is a highly visible color, making it effective for attracting attention and promoting alertness, which is why it's used in safety signage and warnings."

Just like in the point 1, I can see this being opposite to Sunny's character. Sunny can does not like attention drawn to himself. Or maybe it can be in reference to the attention and alertness his friends might or will have after the truth is revealed. To his mental state or to his character, it's up to interpretation.

5:Warmth and Sunshine:

"Yellow's association with the sun and warm weather contributes to its positive connotations of comfort and happiness. "

"PHOTO ALBUM: SUNNY is a little shy, but he's a really good listener. I always end up venting to him when I get upset or stressed. Sometimes I feel like I'm bothering him, but he never seems to mind. -BASIL"

"KEL: Do you remember when we were kids, me and you used to sneak out of the house to go to HOBBEEZ in the middle of the night? We could never get up for school on time the next morning, and HERO and MARI would always ask why would looked so tired. I'm sure they suspected something, but I'm glad they never told our moms... We were pretty adventurous back then, huh? Haha..."

"AUBREY: You know... Before we met, I had a lot of trouble fitting in... Even after we all became friends... I always assumed you were going to leave me eventually. But... when the others were busy doing things... you always seemed to have time for me. You would listen to me talk for hours and hours... I could always rely on you to do that." - OMORI WIKI

I think for everyone in the friend group, he brings warmth and sunshine.

6:Mental Stimulation:

"Yellow is thought to increase activity in the left brain, which is responsible for rational thinking and analytical ability."

"He also demonstrates remarkably high intelligence: Despite having dropped out of school when he was twelve years old[4] and technically lacking most formal education, he appears to have functional knowledge of advanced concepts such as calculating standard deviation of statistics and can successfully tutor two children in two different subjects that he likely hadn't been properly taught." -OMORI WIKI

Negatively:

1:"Anxiety and Irritation: In some cases, bright or excessive amounts of yellow can lead to feelings of anxiety, stress, and even irritation."

"Sunny appears to have anger issues; he has a very short temper (something as small as a fly buzzing near his ear is enough to anger him), and this anger tends to express itself through dramatic, sometimes violent outbursts. This anger critically leads to an incident where, frustrated over his lack of progress with violin practice, he threw his violin down the stairs in a fit of rage, smashing it, followed shortly after by fatally shoving Mari away from him during a heated argument, something the Truth photo album describes as him "losing all sense".[3] Notably, in battle, his Angry portrait depicts an intense amount of emotion, more than every other character's, even Omori's. Sunny appears to additionally suffer from anxiety, and had learnt to Calm Down, Focus, and Persist in order to help him cope with his anxiety and phobias, although he has forgotten these by the time of the game's events and needs to be reminded." -OMORI WIKI

With him being an easily irritated & angered character, with stressed out from high expectations, and anxiety from self doubt, lack of self worth, and not being enough for others I can see this fitting his character perfectly.

2:"Cowardice and Deceit: Historically, yellow has been linked to cowardice, deceit, and betrayal."

This can roughly translate to: cowardice for forcing the memories of the accident deep into his subconscious. Deceit for lying about the truth and what happened to the violin. (you can also count Sunny scribbling out the pictures but not admitting it was him when it was mentioned) and betrayal by, (admittedly unknowingly at the time, considering he still had dissociative amnesia) leaving Basil all alone for 4 years & only coming back when he is about to leave in less than 3 days. And also by telling the truth in the true ending, not only betraying his friends by lying to them for 4 years, but also Basil, since he did not talk to him before telling the truth, something that they both should have done together (though I think that's for the best. And I will that explain another time)

3:"Illness and Decay: In certain contexts, yellow can be associated with illness, decay, and jaundice."

Illness can be referred to his malnourishment and lack of self care, but also his mental state with hallucinations, depression, suicidal ideation, self harming tendencies. And Decay can be referred to letting himself decay further and further into headspace. Killing himself several endings in his bed. Letting himself decay further but this time physically as well. And jaundice can, instead of being the literal meaning, symbolize his sickness with malnourishment, paleness, and vomit when he eats the uncooked steak.

4:"Warning and Caution: Yellow is often used in warning signs and to indicate caution, which can lead to negative associations. "

Personally, I think these can refer to multiple things. 1: his lack of self care and suicidal tendencies, a warning and caution to others. 2: the warnings and cautionary references to the truth in headspace. The warning and caution too yourself before you(Sunny) face the truth.

5:"Sensationalism and Excess: The color yellow can also be associated with sensationalism and excess. "

Sensationalism and Excess can both refer to Sunny slowly finding out the truth of what he's done.

6:Cultural Variations:

"It's important to note that the meanings of colors can vary across cultures, and yellow is no exception. For example, in some cultures, yellow can symbolize sadness or jealousy."

Via Google search:

"Germany: Yellow symbolizes envy and jealousy"

Although it is never specified in canon I can see Sunny being jealous or envious of Mari. Maybe in terms of the piano, he did name himself after the name of the instrument brand in headspace, implying he thinks the piano was more important to her than him. Giving him jealousy and envy over the piano, which she gave more attention to rather then him. Or maybe the fact that she was always perfect. That she always had a smile on her face that he just couldn't replicate. Maybe the fact that she had so many achievements, so different talents that she was just always perfect at. Perhaps he felt he was just Mari's little brother in the friend group. And that the only reason the others were only friends with him was because of her, the important one. Jealous and envious, he couldn't be more like her. Perfect, happy, talented, prioritized, and important.

Egypt: Yellow is reserved for mourning

Morning for his sister. Morning for someone who taught you how to tie your shoes, morning for someone who would let you sleep in their bed when you had nightmares, someone who always made sure you were taking care of yourself, having at least a cup of water a day and 3 meals a day. For someone who always made their famous cookies when you were feeling down, they were always your favorite. For someone who always there when you needed a hug, regardless of the time of day or night. For someone who was always there to kiss your bruises and scratches away, and always put a cool band aid on it afterwards. For someone who threw themselves into a deep, deep waters wearing one of their favorite dresses in order to save you, ecause you were more important than just a stupid dress. For someone who taught you how to play the violin, so you could play together on a stage, just you and her, playing a duet you both made together. For someone that you loved. For someone you killed. For someone who will never, ever be coming back.

France: Yellow signifies jealousy, betrayal, weakness, and contradiction

Jealousy for someone you betrayed

Weakness for someone who contradicts.

Western cultures: Yellow is associated with warmth, happiness, and optimism

There will always be people that consider you their warmth.

There will always be people that consider you their happiness.

There will always be people that consider you their optimism.

Native Americans: Yellow is the symbol for unconditional love

2: Color Wheel Theory

Kel is represented by orange in the game and his brother hero is represented by the color blue in the game

Aubrey is represented by pink/red in the game and her direct opposite Basil is represented by Green.

And Mari is most from presented by purple in the game and while sunny is represented most by white in the game, if we go off the logic of the first two then logically, we should more associate him more with the color yellow.

☀3: Yellow is often associated with the Sun.☀

His name is literally sunny.

And all of his ship names include the name sun.

Also the crazy connection he has to sunflowers in game.

And that concludes why I think we as a community, should associates sunny with the color yellow more in fan art and other media!!

Note: I am not saying everyone and everything should start being about Sunny with yellow instead of white/to replace white with yellow. I thinkthe color white fits him perfectly to!! I'm just saying, since yellow is right there, unused by any other main character, and has symbolism that matches his character perfectly, we should start giving him more colorful fan work with it. But that's just my opinion. Thank you for reading this far if you have!! And if you disagree with my opinions that's completely valid! Just please don't invalidate mine. Everyone is allowed to have their opinions, and even if I disagree with yours, and you disagree with mine, that doesn't mean we should hate & argue each other for it. Respect my opinion and I'll respect yours. Again thank you for reading :33 I hope you have a lovely day, afternoon or night wherever you are<333. (Also, I gave neutral colours like white to the rest of the characters, but I'll make a separate post about that)