#i am disquieted by the state of everything

[semisolidmind]

Just gonna peek my head on in here real quick…. You’re fantastic, deserve so much and I hope you have a marvelous month.

Otay, bye~!

i appreciate that immensely, my guy.

im going through a dry spell; the anxiety of finding a job in the current market, alongside the current state of the world has me feeling burnt out and unable to do much at all.

kind words don't solve problems, but they certainly help.

[sea-changed]

i. Reading Looking For The Good War has, among many other things, I think really helped me to clarify and articulate what I find so disquieting about "Points" as an episode. (Which is not all of it! There are certainly plenty of scenes that I find fascinating and/or enjoyable to watch.) But:

"It is much easier to tell a sentimental war story with a happy ending, in which valor eclipses causes and reconciliation triumphs over everything--a comedy, in other words--than it is to tell another, unsentimental kind of story." (page 89)

This is what it is, exactly--"in which valor eclipses causes and reconciliation triumphs over everything" could more or less be the logline of "Points." This is most egregiously evident to me in the scene of Nazi general's surrender, but the scene where Winters tells the Nazi officer to keep his sidearm is also I think highly indicative of this drive towards reconciliation, however rotten, above all else. And Samet articulates that wonderfully, and articulates as well the cost of this type of narrative:

"Yet sentimentality does more than shape the way we commemorate wars. It informs all those cultural and sociological attitudes in the shadow of which wartime and postwar policies are crafted, and it prevents a more productive and enduring sympathy that, in cooperation with reason, might guide our actions and help us become more careful readers of war's many ambiguities and false seductions." (page 83)

ii. The layers of dislike I have for the Nazi general scene are manifold; the mirroring of Winters and the Nazi general and thereby Easy Company with the Nazi soldiers feels incredibly sinister, perhaps most aggressively so in its weird push to rehabilitate the Nazis as soldiers, and thus to both foreshadow (within the world of the show) and echo (in the world of the audience) the archetypal defense that Nazi higher-ups would put forward at Nuremberg and beyond, that they were just following orders.

iii. The mirroring of Winters and Easy Company with the Nazis is clearly intentional, and somewhat bizarrely explicit ("You've found in one another a bond that exists only in combat among brothers") and maudlin (the panning shots over the Nazi soldiers' faces and wounds), and by the end the urge to parallel the two leaders and the two armies--indeed, to collapse one into the other, in order to make them functionally the same--seems to cause a sort of scriptwriting amnesia about who these words are actually being said by and to. Once again the greater historic context makes this especially chilling, Operation Paperclip being perhaps the most salient point to evoke. (I am also haunted, forever, by a statistic that Michael C. C. Adams cites in The Best War Ever, that a September 1945 survey of American GIs found that 22% believed the Nazi treatment of Jewish people to be justified. Granted, this survey would not have been taken using modern sampling methods, and who knows what the sample size was to begin with or what soldiers in particular were being surveyed. But still.)

iv. The scene leans heavily into the idea of a unique soldierly bond that unites not only each individual army within itself but bonds the two armies together. ("You've found in one another a bond that exists only in combat, among brothers who've shared foxholes, held each other in dire moments, who've seen death and suffered together.") Besides being disquieting for reasons I state above, I think it's notable that the Nazi general's speech emphasizing the brotherhood of soldiers happens directly after the short scene between Winters and Sobel, wherein Winters chides Sobel on a point of military ritual ("We salute the rank, not the man"). Sobel is outside the brotherhood; he doesn't understand how to be a soldier; whereas the Nazis are within the brotherhood, so much so that they are allowed to articulate its terms. (This is egregious no matter what, but becomes all the more so when it is framed as a Jewish man being excluded from the "club" of military brotherhood while WASP Americans and literal Nazis are allowed in.) (Meanwhile, Liebgott occupies a sort of bizarre placement in this scene, there to ventriloquize--indeed, perhaps neutralize, or even legitimize--the Nazi general's words, but not speak for himself.)

v. This gets to another point that Samet makes that stuck out to me, about the inherent tautology of military culture. She quotes William Styron, who in a 1964 review of General Douglas MacArthur's memoir said:

"Anyone who has lived as a stranger for any length of time among professional military men, especially officers, is made gradually aware of something that runs counter to everything one has been taught to believe—and that is that most of these men, far from corresponding to the liberal cliché of the super-patriot, are in fact totally lacking in patriotism. They are not unpatriotic, they simply do not understand or care what patriotism is. [...] A true military man is a mercenary [...] and it is within the world of soldiering that he finds his only home." (Samet quotes Styron on page 233; I'm quoting here from the full review)

The point of being a soldier is to be a soldier; the point of the military is to have a military. She also has this to say--especially saliently, I think, for obvious reasons--about Ambrose, and his perspective specifically in Citizen Soldiers:

"By means of emphasis and convenient omission, Ambrose preserves his focus on unity, not division; right, not wrong; liberation, not subjugation. Paradoxically, given that he makes so much of American idealism, he often subordinates a consideration of causes altogether to a veneration for the magnificence of the army itself. The creation of that army, rather than the victory it made possible, becomes 'the great achievement of the American people and system,' just as the nation's 'greatest nineteenth-century achievement' had been, according to Ambrose, 'the creation of the Army of the Potomac' rather than the end it eventually secured--the abolition of chattel slavery." (page 46)

Here we are back to the first Samet quote from above: valor eclipses causes and reconciliation triumphs over everything. To be a military man--to be part of the club, the brotherhood, the "bond that exists only in combat"--is to "subordinate a consideration of causes altogether to a veneration for the magnificence of the army itself." The country and the cause that the Nazi general and his soldiers fought "bravely, proudly" for become sublimated, while that bravery and pride, stripped of more specific meaning, is extolled. What matters, by the time this scene happens--and it's the last scene in the core section of the episode, followed only by the close of the frame structure with Winters and Nixon and then the baseball scene-cum-epilogue--is not the American cause that Easy Company was fighting for, and certainly not the Nazi atrocities they were fighting against, but rather a reconciliation that views the experience of war as preeminently important. Sobel, who did not experience combat, is dismissed; the Nazi general, who did, is legitimated.

vi. And that, I think, is the core of the message that Band of Brothers promotes. Fandom often refers to the show in passing as propaganda, but I'm not sure that really gets to the heart of what it is, in the end, saying. I would suggest that it's not merely propaganda; it's a recruitment poster. It's not selling truth, justice, and the American way (or if it is, it's doing so only incidentally); it's selling the experience of being in the military as a transformative and ultimately positive one, that unites (a certain subset of) men through the unique crucible of battle, beyond any concerns about what, exactly, one is fighting for. So long as you know when and how to salute, you too can be a part of the brotherhood.

vii. All of which gets back to the scene earlier in "Points," when the Nazi colonel surrenders to Winters. The colonel first makes the explicit parallel between the Nazis and the Americans, and between himself and Winters in particular: "I wonder what will happen to us, to people like you and me, when there are finally no more wars to occupy us." He serves to explicate here more or less exactly what I was saying above: he sees himself and Winters united as military men, above and beyond their particular countries and causes.

Winters doesn't look thrilled about the comparison--but then almost immediately tells the Nazi colonel to retain his surrendered sidearm. I suppose this is supposed to read as magnanimous and fair-minded on Winters's part, but it also serves to reinforce the Nazi colonel's own words, validating the colonel's prioritization of their shared military positions above and beyond their allegiance to the countries and ideologies they were (at least nominally!) fighting for. As the scene itself shows, giving up a sidearm is an expected part of the surrender process, both practically and symbolically; by refusing it Winters is stepping outside military precedent--indeed, bending over backwards--to help the Nazi colonel retain dignity as well as firepower. On its own it is, I think, a frustrating and uncomfortable scene; in the broader context of the episode it sets up and reinforces the Nazi general's speech later on and the ways that Winters and the show itself find meaning in paralleling and reconciling the Americans and the Nazis with one other. (The Nazi colonel knows how to salute; and when he does so, Winters salutes him back.)

viii. Of course it's historically true that American soldiers tended to identify with German soldiers and civilians much more than they identified with people from Allied countries, as Samet herself and even the veteran interviews at the beginning of "Why We Fight" document. (And I don't believe that paralleling the Americans and the Nazis is necessarily something to be dismissed out of hand.) But because the end of "Points" is so overtly sentimental, paralleling the Americans and Nazis serves not as an indictment of American soldiers' amorality but rather as a rehabilitation of the Nazi soldiers and officers as soldiers and a paean to military culture divorced from meaning or cause. As Samet says--"valor eclipses causes and reconciliation triumphs over everything." The military, as an institution, whether it be American or Nazi, becomes the greater good of the war; while the causes those militaries were fighting for become not only secondary, but recede entirely.

[rainforestakiie]

hello everyone. i don't know what i am doing. haha.

here is a small one-shot of Adamasapple. omega x omega. based in Eden. an au.

english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes in this...

Nest of the Damned (Omegaverse Omega/Omega) Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04. Part 05. Extra 01.

Full Version

Omega Lucifer X Omega Adam

There was an ineffable quality to today, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that Adam couldn't quite place. He sat ensconced within the heart of Eden's rainforest, his apple-green eyes wandering over the vivid tapestry of blossoms and verdant foliage. The air carried an unusual sweetness, tingling against his skin in an unfamiliar way. With a frown, Adam leaned back against his favorite tree, seeking solace.

This tree was magnificent, a towering sentinel adorned with cascading clusters of purple flowers. The blossoms, ranging from delicate lavender to deep violet, bloomed with an enchanting beauty. Each cluster was a dense array of tiny, pea-like flowers exuding a heady, sweet fragrance. The pinnate leaves, a bright green mosaic of smaller leaflets along a central stem, created a lush, vibrant backdrop for the floral display.

Whenever the unsettling sensations within his chest became overwhelming, Adam would retreat to this tree. Today was no different. The moment he felt the peculiar prickling in his chest, he instinctively sought the tree's refuge. Hidden among its blossoms, he felt safe; his so-called 'wife' never ventured this far, and he preferred it that way.

Adam's skin felt unusually warm, a discomfort exacerbated by the sweat that perpetually beaded on his forehead despite his attempts to wipe it away. Something was amiss. A disquieting voice whispered in his ear, reinforcing the sense of wrongness. An inexplicable warmth churned in the pit of his stomach, growing more intense with each passing moment. Pressing himself against the tree's bark, Adam drew his knees close to his chest, his nails digging into the tender flesh of his kneecaps in a futile attempt to ground himself.

His entire body felt alien, a departure from its usual state. The absence of anyone to ask for help deepened his anxiety. Seeking assistance from his 'wife' was out of the question; she terrified him, and her recent unpleasant odor only added to his stress.

With a hiccup, Adam buried his face in his knees, scratching lightly at his legs and arms. It had been so long since anyone had been by his side, someone who would gently explain everything, who would tell him what he was feeling, and help him understand and resolve it. The changes within his body frightened him deeply.

"Adam?" A sudden voice called, sending shivers down his spine.

Adam emitted a low groan, his arms constricting around himself, nails digging deeper into his skin until it stung. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, biting into the sensitive flesh of his bottom lip.

"Adam, where are you?" The voice echoed through the air.

Adam retreated further into the shelter of the tree, hoping its majestic branches would shield him from the intrusive Archangel. Lucifer, the Morning Star and Adam's guardian Archangel, seemed oblivious to Adam's loneliness due to the angels preference for the company of the other human in Eden. Their relationship had soured over time, leaving Adam with little desire to engage with Lucifer.

"Adam?" Lucifer continued in a coaxing tone. "Come out, come out wherever you are~ You know you can't hide from me~"

The forest fell silent, interrupted only by a warm breeze fluttering through the purple blossoms. Adam shivered as the breeze caressed his overheated skin, its gentleness a brief comfort. The quietness suggested Lucifer might have moved on to trouble the other human in Eden.

"Adam, you smell sweet," Lucifer remarked, his voice softening. Adam sensed a new presence approaching the garden, their footsteps barely audible on the grass just beyond the wall of flowers. "Is this where you've been hiding all this time?"

"Go away," Adam growled, his teeth almost bared. An unexpected surge of aggression rose within him, fueled by a protective instinct over his flowery sanctuary. "You're not welcome here."

Adam's defiance did little to deter Lucifer. The Archangel ducked beneath the wall of flowers, entering the shaded enclave despite Adam's silent protest. Adam kept himself curled up, refusing to acknowledge Lucifer's presence, hoping his standoffishness would convey his wishes.

"Whoa, this place is beautiful!" Lucifer exclaimed softly, a gasp of admiration escaping him. "No wonder you like to hide here!"

When Adam remained silent, Lucifer turned towards him, his six fluffy wings twitching involuntarily as he struggled to keep them neatly folded against his back. A potent sweetness emanated from Adam, causing the Angel to gasp softly.

"Adam..." Lucifer whispered, drawing nearer. "Adam, are you feeling alright?"

Lucifer wore a troubled frown, his cherry-red lips downturned as he observed Adam. He fidgeted with his robes awkwardly, unaccustomed to being ignored by Adam. The silence and Adam's refusal to meet his gaze stung Lucifer with a pang of melancholy. He didn't like it when Adam ignored him. Yet, the sweet fragrance that enveloped Adam troubled him even more, hinting at his darkest suspicions.

"Adam, please tell me if you're feeling... unwell..." Lucifer breathed out, lowering himself to his knees and cautiously inching closer to his precious human. "Are you feeling hot? Itchy? Sweaty?"

Adam clenched his eyes shut tighter, attempting to block out Lucifer's voice. He fought against the urge to throw himself into the Archangel's arms. Lucifer's presence had always stirred a flutter in Adam's stomach, but now it felt different—unsettling, almost as if he was melting from within, discomfort prickling under his skin.

"Adam~" Lucifer sang softly, his voice even more gentle. He settled beside Adam and leaned in, his face nearing Adam's exposed neck as he inhaled deeply.

The sweet aroma was unmistakably emanating from the first human—so honeyed, yet uniquely wild, reminiscent of fresh rain and earthy wildflowers. It was Eden itself, embodied in scent.

"Hey, why are you ignoring me?" Lucifer cooed softly, raising a calming hand. "Ad-am~ Didn't you miss me?"

The moment Lucifer's fingers brushed Adam's exposed shoulder, Adam jerked away. His head snapped up, green eyes glassy and unfocused, his skin an unnaturally pallid hue.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as he met Adam's frantic gaze, his heart skipping a beat, echoing in his skull. Heat pooled deep in his gut, urging his wings to unfurl and shield Adam from prying eyes.

"Adam, are you presenting?" he managed to utter, his mouth suddenly dry. Lucifer coughed, swallowing hard, shifting awkwardly as he sat on his ankles, struggling to contain his body's response to Adam.

Adam blinked at the question, puzzled. Presenting? What did that mean exactly? Before he could ask, he remembered his anger towards Lucifer and clamped his mouth shut, shooting a dry glare at the Archangel, turning his back.

"Don't touch me," Adam bit out, his back still turned. "Leave me alone."

Lucifer gaped in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His wings bristled in shock. Adam had never rebuffed him like this before! He knew Adam might be upset, but this was beyond anything he expected. Surely Adam couldn't be this angry with him?

"Adam?!" Lucifer exclaimed, attempting to maneuver around him to catch his eye, but Adam immediately turned away again. Lucifer couldn't believe it. "Adam! Stop that! Come on, talk to me! We can't fix anything if you keep doing this!"

Adam scoffed. "Fix what? I don't want anything fixed. I don't even know what's broken. Just go away."

"No," Lucifer grunted as Adam turned his back once more.

Lucifer huffed and crossed his arms, his wings trembling with annoyance. Only Adam could make him feel so upset, hurt, and irritated all at once. Adam knew exactly which buttons to press. If only he understood Lucifer's motives! There was a purpose behind everything he did, goals he aimed to achieve.

Adam cautiously glanced over his shoulder, finding Lucifer still seated behind him, intensely scrutinizing him, studying the exposed skin stretched over delicate muscles up to Adam's neck. Suddenly, Lucifer froze, horror seizing his entire body.

There on the back of Adam's neck were scratches.

"Adam! Have you been scratching your neck?" he demanded, grabbing Adam's arm in an attempt to turn him. But Adam, stubborn as ever, tried to wrench his arm free from Lucifer's grip.

"What's it to you?" Adam cried out. "Why does it matter if I do or not?"

"It's extremely important, Adam. I need to know if you're presenting," Lucifer insisted, inhaling the lingering sweetness surrounding Adam. That alone was a telling sign. "It's important for your safety."

Adam frowned, shooting the Archangel a frustrated look as he struggled to pry Lucifer's iron grip from his arm once more, but failed. Adam marveled at Lucifer's strength; the Archangel, despite his slight frame, wielded power beyond what Adam expected, unlike the lions of Eden.

"I don't have to tell you anything!" Adam snapped. "Why don't you go bother Lilith! We both know you like her more!"

Lucifer's blue eyes widened in surprise, blinking as realization dawned. While he suspected Adam was upset over his time with Lilith, he hadn't imagined Adam thought he favored her.

"That's not true," Lucifer countered gently, inching closer to the distraught human. He inhaled Adam's scent, feeling his own control slipping. "You misunderstand. I had to spend time with her. It wasn't my choice."

"What?" Adam frowned deeply. None of Lucifer's explanations made sense. Adam had seen how happy and affectionate Lucifer was around Lilith. There was no way Lucifer didn't prefer her.

A strange, bubbling sensation erupted in Adam's stomach, urging him to seize the Angel and take him somewhere, though he couldn't fathom where. Coldness gripped the back of his head, an icy sensation spreading across his skin. He had missed something important, something he should have prepared. Adam should have gathered something to soothe himself, and to take Lucifer, but he didn't know what.

"I'm so confused," Adam murmured, struggling to find comfort within himself.

Lucifer brushed his fingers up Adam's side, purposefully tracing his veins. "Have you been feeling like there's a fire burning inside you? Enough to... want to take me away and create something?"

Adam leaned forward, hanging on Lucifer's every word. "Yes! That's it! I want to gather things, like leaves, petals, even your robes and feathers!"

Lucifer hummed softly, a sparkle in his eyes. "I understand, Adam. You want to build something, but you don't know why."

Adam gasped, his heart skipping a beat. "Yes, Lucifer, exactly! But I don't know how! It just came over me, and I don't understand why I'm feeling so... so... I don't want you spending time with Lilith anymore!"

"Alright, as long as you stay away from her too," Lucifer said seriously. "I've worked hard to keep her from noticing you. I can't risk you revealing yourself when I'm not around."

Confusion clouded Adam's expression as he tilted his head, a broken whimper escaping him, a sound unfamiliar to his own ears. "You kept her from me? Why? Do you really like her that much?"

"No, Adam. I like you," Lucifer sighed, a blush coloring his cheeks. "She's an alpha."

Alpha? The word echoed in Adam's mind, discomfort prickling his entire body. Lilith was an alpha? What did that mean? Why did this revelation unsettle him so deeply? His mouth went dry, his tongue suddenly feeling too large for his mouth. All Adam wanted was to run and hide now.

"It's okay," Lucifer whispered lovingly, cradling Adam's face in his hands, nuzzling against him. "You'll learn to control your scents. But Adam, you need to calm down. You're releasing a strong scent of distress right now."

"I-I am?" Adam gasped, seeking more comfort in Lucifer's embrace. "I'm so confused."

Lucifer's wings finally unfurled, wrapping around Adam, feathers brushing gently against his skin, soothing him.

"I know you are, but that's why you have me. I'm your guardian Angel," Lucifer smiled, tilting his head to meet Adam's gaze. "I think you're finally presenting. We knew you'd be a late bloomer. Lilith presented two summers ago."

Adam frowned, his attention now fully on Lucifer's magnificent wings as his fingers traced the soft feathers, eliciting a soft moan from the Archangel.

"Lucifer, you smell sweet too," Adam observed, blinking at him. "You smell really good. I've only just noticed it."

A proud grin spread across Lucifer's face, puffing his chest out boastfully. "Of course I do! I'm the best thing you'll ever smell, I guarantee it!"

"I don't understand," Adam pouted. "Explain it to me. Why would I be presenting? And Lilith has presented? Have you presented? What does presenting even mean?"

Chuckling softly, Lucifer nuzzled his face into Adam's throat, his hands sliding up Adam's back to delicately touch the sore patch on the back of his neck. Adam gasped at the tenderness, feeling the roughness of his skin.

"Has it been bothering you?" Lucifer whispered, his fingers brushing lightly over the irritated area. "Has it been itching?"

"Yeah," Adam murmured with a tremor, his cheeks flushing deeper under Lucifer's gentle touch. "Is something wrong with it?"

Lucifer shook his head reassuringly. "No, Adam, it's normal. Your glands are beginning to form. Just try not to scratch them, alright?"

"What's happening to me, Luci..." Adam whimpered, clutching at Lucifer's robes, suddenly fascinated by their softness and the lingering scent of the Archangel. He suddenly had the strong urge to take the robes and hide them away, so he could use them when he was building…whatever it is that he needs to build. 

"You're presenting as an Omega," Lucifer explained gently, continuing to stroke Adam's neck until the tension melted away. "Lilith presented as an Alpha, so it's risky for you to be around her... at all."

It wasn't entirely untrue. Lilith and Adam were destined by Heaven to mate and become the progenitors of mankind, an expectation they were created for. Initially, both were like betas when they first awoke in Eden—closed off, scentless, with equal power dynamics. However, Lilith's transformation into an Alpha had changed everything.

Lilith had been harmless toward Adam initially. Lucifer had even encouraged their interaction. But when Lilith had presented as an Alpha, Sera had been thrilled—it marked the beginning of their grand plan. Lucifer, however, had felt a pang of disappointment. He had always imagined Adam as an Alpha, perhaps even his Alpha. Both Sera and Michael had continuously told him not to get so attached to the first human, but Lucifer did. Lilith's transformation had meant Adam would be an Omega, and Sera had instructed him to keep his distance from Adam.

He had obeyed, until he noticed Lilith's growing interest in Adam. Lucifer had felt a surge of possessiveness and jealousy he couldn't ignore. He knew his actions were wrong, going against divine plans, but the thought of Adam mating with Lilith as an Omega enraged him.

So, he had intervened, distracting Lilith away from Adam. It had been easy to steer her focus elsewhere.

"I'm an Omega too," Lucifer admitted softly. "That's why... Lilith was fond of me."

Adam's green eyes dimmed, and he slouched back, a reaction that nearly caused panic in Lucifer. "But I'm going to be an Omega too. She won't like me?"

"Do you want her to like you?" Lucifer asked harshly, his anger slipping through despite his efforts. He didn't want to share Adam with anyone, especially an Alpha.

Adam pondered Lucifer's question, oblivious to the Archangel's tension. After a moment, Adam hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin. His expression twisted in confusion. "Lilith is an Alpha... and Alphas are supposed to be with Omegas?"

Dread knotted Lucifer's stomach. He wanted to deny it, to reassure Adam that it wasn't true, but he couldn't lie. With a soft sigh, Lucifer nodded reluctantly. "Yes, that's correct."

"And you're an Omega?" Adam asked quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Lucifer clicked his tongue irritably. "Yup."

"I'm lost," Adam whimpered softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want to be with Lilith, but I'm angry with you. And I'm confused because I'm an Omega? Am I supposed to be with Lilith? I just don't know."

Lucifer studied Adam thoughtfully, imagining how Sera would handle the situation with her gentle touch and reassuring words. She would likely blame Lucifer for influencing Adam and then whisk him away to Lilith. The thought displeased Lucifer, his lips curling in disdain.

Adam clearly harboured feelings for him; Lucifer wasn't naive. Being the only Omega Archangel, he understood the intricacies of their nature better than anyone, despite what Sera might believe. When it came to Omegas, Lucifer trusted his own instincts above all else.

"Adam," he murmured softly, lifting Adam's chin gently to meet his gaze. "I understand you're confused, but you trust me, don't you?"

Adam's emerald eyes widened, his breath catching. "Y-Yes, of course! I trust you more than anyone, Lucifer."

"Good boy," Lucifer purred, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in closer, brushing them teasingly against Adam's. "Now that you know I'm also an Omega, you can trust me even more. We're the only two Omegas in existence; we have to stick together, or they'll try to control us."

Adam shivered at the intimate contact, his fingers gripping tightly onto Lucifer's robes. "Th-They will?"

"Absolutely," Lucifer assured him, running his hands tenderly up Adam's sides, his touch gentle yet possessive. "They're already trying to force you into a bond with Lilith. You don't want that, do you?"

Adam shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "N-No... I don't want to mate with Lilith. She's... she's cruel and intimidating, and she doesn't smell... nice."

Lucifer's smirk widened, showing all his sharp teeth. "Exactly. You deserve better."

"Y-You?" Adam gasped as Lucifer enveloped him in his arms, guiding him down onto the lush grass of Eden.

Lucifer hovered over Adam, tracing a delicate finger along his body, his gaze filled with intensity. "Why don't we bond, Adam?"

"Us?" Adam's eyes widened in surprise as Lucifer leaned in to brush his lips against his once more. "But... we're Omegas. And Sera said..."

Lucifer silenced him with a gentle finger against his lips, his smirk turning more mischievous. "Sera doesn't understand Omegas like we do, Adam. She's a Beta. She doesn't comprehend Alphas, let alone Omegas."

"But... we're..." Adam's voice faltered as Lucifer's hands began to explore his form.

"Does that really matter?" Lucifer whispered reassuringly. "You said I smell good, right? That's reason enough for us to mate?"

Pressing himself down upon Adam, Lucifer released a rumble himself. It felt so good to be pressed to Adam like this. His possessive side was beginning to show itself. The part of himself that Lucifer had worked to control and began to slip between his fingers. 

“The truth is Adam, I don’t want to mate with Lilith. It’s never been Lilith.” he whispered, running his tongue up Adam’s throat. “I wanted you. I want you so badly. I wanted you to present as Alpha, as my Alpha, but alas you’re an Omega. No matter, we can still mate~”

A shuddering gasp escaped Adam as Lucifer grinded down upon him. The Archangel made sure to push his hips firmly to Adam’s, grinding their Omega-hoods together. Lucifer couldn’t help but wonder if Adam’s Omega-hood had formed fully yet or not. He wanted to see for himself, to touch, to caress, to lick, to rub, to ride and pleasure his human. 

“Adam~” he leaned fully over Adam, his blue eyes appearing more menacing as he gazed down at him. “Let’s become mates~”

Michael, Sera, Heaven and his father be damned. Lucifer wanted Adam. He wasn’t going to let anybody get in the way of that. They both were Omegas but Lucifer will learn how to make it work, he’s sure it’ll feel just as good anyway. 

“Don’t you want to see my Omega-hood?”

Adam trembled in awe. 

[valentine-writes]

hello, hope this is okay! you wrote angst for miguel, how about spot this time around?

holding my night in your hands.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, bittersweet, not fully angst,, my bad, pre-collider drabble, unhealthy work habits, mentions of burnout 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: (；′⌒`) this is so so short ohh my goodness,,, i am so sorry if u wanted post collider!! lmk if u want that becuz i will 100% do that! was jus in the mood to write up some pre collider johnathan aawuagdhe,,, anyways a little bit of a different format today (☆-ｖ-) i hope itz ok!!!!

johnathon ohnn: perpetually working on whatever the team of scientists at alchemax are researching on. you've always known him to be ambitious, admired him for it even– though, more recently, you've found it to be a cause for concern.

it barely ever stops, the constant clicking of computer keys, the feverish scribbling of notes, the quiet muttering under his breath about whatever's holding his attention hostage at the moment– these habits carry him into the late night, much to your dismay

you know it's not healthy, the way he insists on working himself to death– yet by the way he acts, you're willing to bet that johnathan thinks it'd be an honourable way to go.

"there's no way you intend on living like this forever." you comment idly, mumbling the words more to yourself than to him. frankly, you're unsure if he senses your presence at all, leaning against the doorframe of his room with your arms crossed.

"it's the only way." he mutters back, not looking up. a tired chuckle escapes his lips, even though you know he means it humorlessly.

almost all his life, he'd been working to be something more– to discover something more out of the universe. it was devastating to watch him endlessly toil away at something he won't end up even getting credit for.

it's as if he can sense your disquieted state, before you can even think to interject. he glances up at you for a moment, hesitating before speaking. "...i'm almost done here, anyways–"

"you said that three hours ago, johnathan. c'mere."

you gesture for him to come closer. he sighs as you watch him expectantly. you know all to well that he'd love to stay glued to his screen for a little longer, but he nods anyways.

"i don't know what i'd do without you." he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. you bite your tongue, knowing exactly what he'd be doing if you weren't there to drag him away for a break. now is no time to be snippy. he's complying at least.

he stand from his seat and stretches, the tension from his long held uncomfortable sitting just barely alleviated by the movement. you hear a few joints in his arms and legs make a few pops and cracks, which makes you cringe ever so slightly and still, in spite of this,

you feel relieved.

somedays he's a bit more stubborn with you. today, he doesn't seem like he even has the energy to put up a fight.

you've seen brilliant people burn themselves out. you're familiar with working yourself to the bone too– and day after day, you try to ensure johnathan doesn't do the same. you continue to insist he takes break, you ensure he's taking care of himself– you do everything in your power to make sure that he's doing more than just survive.

and even after all that, he might not know how much you truly care. but you don't know the half of how grateful he is for you either.

[putschki1969]

Uta-Net Lyric Essay Part 1

In commemoration of the release of her 3rd original studio album “Sono Saki e”, Wakana has been invited to write three lyric essays for the song column of “Uta-Net”. Part 1 has already been posted. You can read the essay on the website. There’s also an audio recording provided, be sure to check it out!

Hello everyone. Nice to meet you, I'm Wakana. This is the first time I am allowed to write a lyric essay like this. I would be happy if you could learn a little more about myself and the music I make. First of all, let me tell you about the trajectory of my music career. For 10 years until 2018, I was active in a group called Kalafina, and after that, I started my solo activities. Since then it's already been 4 years. At the time of my solo debut, there were so many things I had never experienced, everything felt new and quite exciting but there were also many days when I felt incredibly uneasy and overwhelmed because I had reached a point where I was very unfamiliar with the territory. All my past experiences, everything I had seen and done up until that point, it should have made me stronger and able to deal with those new challenges but for some reason, I was unable to fall back on any of those skills so I couldn't make the most of them. Adding to these worries, life threw yet another curve ball when the 2020 pandemic happened. All of that really made me reflect carefully on myself and my capabilities.

Yes, I thought a lot about singing and asked myself all sorts of questions. Why am I so obsessed with the act of singing? Why does it feel like I have hit rock-bottom even though I love singing so much? What type of music can I be satisfied with? What kind of singing voice can I be happy with? Personally speaking, when I listen to someone's music, I am very intrigued by their "voice". How did they develop this singing voice? How is it even possible to express such things with a singing voice? How can such techniques be implemented? Surely, there must have been a lot of trial and error before finding that particular “voice”. The more I think about these things, the more I am fascinated by the voice of an artist. And it makes me want to learn more about my own voice. When the state of emergency was declared, I just kept singing at home, practicing the tracks from my 2nd album "magic moment" which had just been released at that time, and all my thoughts going to the concerts which ultimately never happened. It’s always up to yourself to decide where your limits are. There is no point to life when you just end up being focused on the things you can't do. I want to be someone who always strives to become a better version of myself.

It's been 3 years since I’ve dealt with such thoughts. All of this has led to the completion of my 3rd album "Sono Saki e". "Butterfly Dream", the first track of this album, is a song I would not have been able to sing three years ago. The melody is hopeful and light but at times, it conceals a lonely disquiet. Back then I would have been uncomfortable singing about a mixture of hope and frustration when it so obviously reflected the upheaval in my own heart. People shine brightest when they can turn their fears and anxieties into aspirations. So when I first received the demo tape for this song, I turned the feelings encompassed in the melody into a yearning. And then I wrote the lyrics to reflect said feelings. It’s a cute and fantastical story which actually hides a small fear. I wanted this message to be used for the beginning of the album.

What do you want most right now? I would like to continue pursuing music while staying true to my aspirations and repeatedly asking myself what I want in regard to singing. I will never forget about my past self who was overwhelmed and crying, I believe it is important to carry those memories with me. 

All right, I will end the first part of my lyric essay here. Until next time.

[wirewitchviolet]

The Trouble With Dying in Horror Games

So as you could probably guess after posting a week ago that I'd just played most of the way through SOMA and planned to finish it today, I just did so. It's an excellent game, I'd highly recommend it, and I'd particularly like to sing its praises for mostly delivering on the horror end by throwing a lot of heady philosophical questions at you while forcing you to actually pay attention to everything going on, because you absolutely are not given any sort of map, compass, or current objective tracker. The one aspect of it that didn't so much click for me though was the monsters, and I'd like to share some thoughts on why, and how this is honestly one of the trickiest needles to thread in game design.

So the thing about horror games is that you want the player to feel, if not actually scared, a certain amount of tension, unease, disquiet, dread, etc. You don't want to keep that feeling mounting for the entirety of the game of course, you want to build build build build but then and release now and then, give a breather, and start building it up again. And while there ARE other ways of doing that (and again, the game that got me thinking about this is pretty good at making you stress over, frankly, roleplaying decisions), the most obvious and probably the most effective is making the player stress out over some sort of fail state, or as we call it in game design circles, death.

Problem is, dying releases tension.

This applies to any game really. When things are getting rough and it seems like you're about to die, yeah that's some great heart pounding high tension stuff, but then you miss that timer or take that hit or flub that dropped block or whatever and you're snapped back to the reality that oh right, this is just a game, and now you just have to try what you were doing again. And that's nice in a lot of situations, but in a horror game it's pretty much always going to throw things off because there is, again, this very particular sort of timing you want in the building and release and that early release can really screw with it. And generally, because really this is just how games work, you need to decide how far you want to roll the player's progress back to get back into that right rhythm.

Now personally, I'm a big fan of the golden age of horror games. Stuff from the earliest disc based systems, where not only are save points few and far between, but there's limitations on how many times you can save your game at all. Death had a hell of a lot more sting to it as a threat with games like that, and it also played super well with the first couple Resident Evil games and the way they make you sweat over all your resources in the long term by slow-drip-feeding you ammo and healing items into your very limited inventory. Now the downside to this of course is that you WILL, in all likelihood, die at some point where you have gone Some Time without saving, and while that leaves a good runway to reestablish the tension it's also, you know, super frustrating and you'll maybe want to step away from the game for a while to cool off.

Modern games though, with few exceptions, do not do save points anymore. They have fallen completely out of fashion, and the modern expectation is that every game will constantly be autosaving at very closely packed checkpoints, which is generally considered an evolution of the kindness of letting you save anywhere at any time, probably with zippy quick-save and quick-load buttons, which have kind of been back-ported to older games thanks to emulation and... honestly personally I hate this and that's a rant for another time, but I acknowledge that I am in the minority there. HOWEVER, this still really sucks for horror because we now have the tension break of death, with little to no sting following it, and we're then right back where we were, with no time for the tension to remount at all, and then whatever you died to is just an annoyance, especially if it happens again.

Now, SOMA is as much of a modern horror game as you can get. Like, you tell me something is a "modern horror" game, I'm immediately going to picture something with more or less this gameplay and frankly, something from this developer or someone trying to be like them, and sure enough, if you die you lose absolutely no progress at all. The checkpointing is so generous I swear I've actually MADE progress when dying, and it really hurts the ability for deadly things (by which I pretty much just mean monsters) to have the sort of impact they need. Which is a shame, because these are some pretty neat monsters! Every new one you encounter has a very distinct look and, in theory, a different rule you need to work out in order to avoid being killed. Here's one you need to keep from seeing you, one you need to avoid looking at, one you can't break eye contact with, one that won't kill you if you're perfectly still, etc. And that's neat.

But... I say "in theory" because I absolutely DID get through the game without figuring out the deal with half of them. Either I just booked it before they could reach me (which is great, actually, that keeps the tension if it feels like you're just barely staying ahead) or I just... ate the deaths which didn't even change my position but kicked the monster further down the hall. Which... yeah, nobody's happy with that.

Now, here I should point out that in this particular game this really isn't much of a problem at all because SOMA has like... 8 monsters total, give or take? It has much more cerebral ways to get under your skin, to the point where a lot of people say it'd be better not having monsters at all (and there's even an option to play it that way). I disagree though. They're fun designs, they have interesting patterns, and from both a perspective of story pacing and world building, it's quite important that we at least occasionally have some twisted monstrosities that may once have been human shuffling about in a menacing fashion. We just don't want the tension totally destroyed when they succeed in that menacing.

So how could we fix that? Well my go-to answer is "quit doing constant checkpointing, make me lose real progress so the stakes feel high and I'm really incentivized to work out the safe way past," and for a LOT of games, yeah, just do that. Here though, it's tricky, because a big part of why this game works as well as it does is that it's a bit mazey in its design with zero handholding, it doesn't have you collecting stuff, and aside from some chasey bits which are, again, great, there's no combat or action scenes really. You spend a lot of time stumbling around clueless and confused, picking up cool bits of world-building lore and familiarizing yourself with your surroundings enough to properly orient yourself and work out the path forward. If you die in the middle of that and get sent way back to the start of the area, you're not going to retrace those steps. You've seen those files you've worked out that mental map, you're going to get right back to where you were now, but now that monster is an annoyance not a threat.

So OK, if we can't restore tension after a death without sacrificing good stuff, what if we just avoid dying in the first place? I mean, that IS the ideal, really. You want to constantly be worried you're about to die, and then never have it happen. Tension builds constantly and only gets released when the designers want it released. This is tricky to accomplish though. You can literally just not put anything in that's actually going to lead to a death. Monsters that come charging and screaming up corridors but never reach you because a door slams shut or a walkway collapses or whatever, but that's a huge gamble because if the player notices even once that they weren't really in any danger, they now know death isn't a thing in this game, and the threat of it can no longer establish tension. The more fake-outs you do, the more likely they are to see behind that curtain.

OK, so, how about the monsters DO have the ability to kill you, but they rarely if ever will if you approach them smartly? This could work. Again, in our case in point, there's some trick to every monster, and if you know the trick, and can execute it, you're safe from that monster. It's still tense if there's some chance you might not use the survival strategy properly, we can still ratchet things up in a hurry by taking away the means to do what you need to at the climax of a given monster encounter, so things are still plenty tense, but the player has to be fairly incompetent to get killed, and hopefully they'll learn from it for the next attempt but be iffy on that. I do feel like this would work for SOMA and going in with outside knowledge of what does/doesn't cause each given thing in the game to come charging at you so that death is possible but rare would be ideal, BUT again the whole nature of this particular game not holding your hand and rewarding thorough exploration only with more details about exactly what the heck is going on and really pushing for isolation eliminates the easiest ways to clue that in-game. Unless of course it was dropping hints with the whole corpse black box recording deal and I was just too personally distracted to pick up on it. Again though, I'm just using this game as an example to discuss this in the abstract.

How about this though? What if we took dying to the same thing twice out of the equation? If this particular monster in this particular hallway kills you, you return to the last checkpoint, but when you get back to that hallway, the monster isn't there anymore. There's a risk of players treating this as an alternate solution to the problem of dealing with monsters and just face-tanking through the whole game, but you could mess with people's heads with it. If that monster isn't here, then where is it? Why isn't it here? Do we have diegetic respawns? Is the monster not here because it's off eating the corpse of the previous version of me? This feels like it's worth exploring.

Here's another one for you. Have softer fail states. SOMA actually does a bit of this in fact. When you die, sure, you get back up pretty much where you were standing, and it almost or literally does feel like monsters aren't so much trying to kill you as just giving you a big ol' bonk on the head as they pass, but it screws with your vision, and sometimes your ability to walk straight. I'm not going to lose progress from a death, but I am going to have a bad time if I get caught. That can work really well, and hell, in SOMA I took a lot of hits where I'm actually unclear if I just screwed up and got knocked out, or if we were just punctuating the end of a scene with me getting taken off guard and cold-cocked in cinematic fashion. There's a lot of ways you can play with this design space too. Maybe you get dragged off somewhere if you get jumped and have to work out where you even are when you wake up. Maybe you drop plot items when you get taken down like this, and have to track those back down when you're back on your feet (just, if you do this, be sure to make it a fail-forward sort of thing where you're just on a different path for a bit and people don't have to just do repetitive runs fishing keycards out of the sewer every time they get smacked by the monster they're stuck on or something).

How about some more variations on this? Every time something should kill you, fate gets altered by the weird artifact you're carrying. Maybe this is just fancy fluff for HP, or it's like the Gamecube Resident Evil Remake's survival items. Maybe sidekicks take the hits for you but then die forever, like Hellnight. Maybe you live but with a permanent injury (this is an idea I personally plan on taking somewhere when I get the time). So long as the player keeps moving forward after, these can all be really impactful partial fail states that don't break tension.

Anyway, this is all just stuff to consider if you ever end up designing a horror game... or just a game in general. But anyway, SOMA's great, definitely worth checking out.

Anyway if you'd like to seem me keep rambling about things, I honestly quite desperately need money to live, my patreon donations fell off a damn cliff this month. And if you want to see me stream more, OK, I'm going to try to make that a regular thing, monday nights, 8 PM.

[kenkaodoll]

Kamiya Dojo Monogatari Tale 75 (JUMP SQ 24/04)

About Kamiya Dojo Monogatari:

Tales of Kamiya dojo is written by Kaoru Kurosaki and published along with the “Rurouni Kenshin Hokkaido” arc in JUMPSQ. The tale involves the Rurouni Kenshin character in daily life that takes time between Kenshin and Kaoru marriage until the epilogue chapter in the original manga before the Hokkaido Arc. Until this month (March 2024) there are a total 75 chapters in Tales of Kamiya dojo. This is an unofficial translation. 

Previous Story: https://www.tumblr.com/kenkaodoll/743294478639661056/kamiya-dojo-monogatari-tale-74-jump-sq-2403

“It’s not good to trust people too much, you know.”

“Is that so? I don't think so.”

Kaoru directly objected to Mikio's doctrine. Mikio did not expect an objection from her, looked as if he didn't understand.

“You have to think with your head,” he told her plausibly.

“That’s true. That may be important.”

“Right?”

Mikio was thrilled inside to be able to answer Kaoru's objection so well.

Then he suddenly came to himself, did I really think with my head? Should I bring home the clay mold? A slight feeling of uneasiness, discomfort, disquiet, he didn’t know what it was, crossed his mind.

“Good morning!”

Misao entered the store cheerfully, but her voice did not reach Mikio's ears.

.

The preparation for the opening of the Rabbit Cafe passed in the blink of an eye, and they were ready for the first day of business.

The day before the opening, Usagawa, the owner of the store, would come to make a final check to see that everything is ready.

And what about Mikio's clay? It had not yet been molded into a key, and was still in clean state.

Suwa had asked him several times since then, “What happened to the key mold?” But each time, Mikio would dodge the question, saying, “I haven't been called by Usagawa-san yet.”

Each time, Suwa praised Mikio and it motivated him to take action. For a moment, Mikio wanted to do iy, but as he talked with Kaoru and Tsubame about preparing for the rabbit café, his motivation was replaced by an indescribable reluctant feeling.

Mikio kept stalling his trip to the Usagawa residence to take the key mold.

“Finally, it’s tomorrow, Mikio-sama."

Tsubame spoke to Mikio.

Kaoru, Megumi, Misao, Tsubame, and Mikio were waiting at the café for Usagawa to come for final confirmation.

“Oh, yeah.”

Mikio had been thinking about the clay and was in a high state of anxiety, became impatient for a moment.

“I am very happy,” Tsubame’s eyes looked a little bit wet.

In Mikio's mind, Tsubame was praising Mikio with all her might, saying things like, "The head family must be very happy to see you become such a splendid man," or something like "You are indeed Mikio-sama, opening a cutting-edge café in Western-style attire that fits the new era." But the actual Tsubame was not a good talker, so he does not say such things. 

Mikio was in a good mood because he felt as if he had been praised, even though she did not say it.

Thinking about the clay would make him feel down, and thinking about the opening of the café would lift his spirits. Mikio was extremely unstable. On top of that, his wife, Shino, was in the last month of pregnancy, and a baby could be born at any time. Many things can happen at once.

…

When he was thinking about it, the store’s door opened.

“Welcome!”

The waitresses who dressed in western-style, Kaoru, Megumi, Misao, and Tsubame shouted in unison and bowed.

“Mmm-hmm. Well, that's a good start!” Usagawa, accompanied by his apprentice, came in with a big smile on his face. 

“That's all!” Mikio smiled and welcomed Usagawa, “We're all set for the first day of business, leave it to me.”

“I'm glad I asked you guys to do this. I'm glad I asked you guys to do it,” Usagawa said with satisfaction.

“We'll have a cup of tea while watching the rabbits, won't we?”

“It's a sunny day today, so how about sitting on the terrace?” Kaoru suggested.

"Oh, the terrace."

“This way. You can have tea while watching the cute rabbits running free in the garden,” Misao guided Usagawa and his apprentice to take a seat on the terrace.

The garden was covered with the white clover, and the rabbits were free roaming on it. On cold or rainy days, the rabbits were kept indoors, but during the warmer days, they could be admired under the sun.

“I love the terrace!” Usagawa was satisfied.

“Here is the menu,” Megumi held out a thick sheet of paper.

The menu includes tea, sweets, and their prices written in a stylish font.

“The menu… And?” Usagawa read it aloud.

The rest of the menu was written in Japanese, although the word "MENU" was written at the top.

Then in addition to tea and snacks, the price of rabbit food, such as *komatsuna and carrots, was also written. There was an arrangement that allowed customers to feed the rabbits. If they found a rabbit they like, they could take it home with them for a fee.

“Now, tea and baked sweets for both of us, and shall I have a bunch of *komatsuna for the rabbits?” Usagawa placed his order, Megumi bowed and headed for the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Tsubame prepared the order and brought it to Usagawa and his apprentice.

Tsubame served with exquisite timing, not rushing, but not making them wait too long.

“Umm… It's wonderful,” Usagawa sipped the tea which was brewed carefully. 

“This rabbit café has turned out to be even better than I had envisioned in my mind. Thank you for preparing it so well,” Usagawa said deeply.

“No, not so much,”Mikio was embarrassed when he heard Usagawa's praise.

“Nagaoka, you have played a central role in bringing us this far. The service, the décor, the rabbits, the tea, the sweets. Everything is wonderful!” Usagawa stood up and gave him applause.

“Usagawa-san…”

Mikio was very touched by Usagawa praising him even though just for the preparation, the show hadn’t started yet.

“But the real show starts tomorrow,” Megumi doused his excitement with her fair argument.

“!” Mikio's face looked as if he had really been doused with cold water.

“We've done all this preparation, it'll be fine tomorrow, I’m sure it will run smoothly,” Tsubame backed him up.

“Yes, yes. Let's be happy that things have gone so well, instead of thinking about what might go wrong," Usagawa said smiling.

“I see… that’s how you think. It’s a bit like congratulations, but well, that’s okay isn’t it?” Megumi admitted.

“Megumi-san, as a doctor, you always think of every possible eventuality, that’s why you're so calm, aren't you?” Kaoru asked

“Are you a doctor?” Mikio was surprised to hear it.

“Yes, I am. So what?”

“Well, it's just... It's rare to see a female doctor.”

Megumi was amused by Mikio's honest reaction.

“I think it's been a long time since I've been told that a female doctor is rare.”

“Megumi-san is already a rare presence in Kamiya Dojo, you know.”

Everyone chuckled at Misao's words, agreeing with each other. Usagawa looked at everyone in such a friendly mood.

“We've completed the final checks. As Megumi said, tomorrow is the big day. Please wrap up today at a moderate point and prepare for tomorrow,” said

“Yes, sir,” The ladies responded cheerfully.

“And then, Nagaoka-kun.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Will you drop by my mansion on your way home?”

Mikio's heart skipped a beat at Usagawa's invitation.

“Heh... Heh. To your house?”

He thought about the clay that he received from Suwa the other day.

“Congratulations in advance.... Yes?” Usagawa smiled and returned with his apprentice.

.

After Usagawa left, they spent the day practicing to service customers and cleaning the rabbit hutch for tomorrow's opening. Finally the preparation was finished. 

“You guys, starting tomorrow please be successful!”   

Mikio was being uncharacteristically auspicious, but then he said, “I’m going to Usagawa-san for pre-celebaration!” He was sure he would have a good drink. Mikio grinned with anticipation.

“Don't we have that kind of pre-celebration?” Misao asked naively.

“Oh, I'll get something for you guys.”

Mikio went to Usagawa's house in a good mood.

.

Mikio arrived in front of Usagawa's mansion after the sun had set.

Should I do it now?

Mikio hesitated.

He had been stalling to mold clay for a long time. If he missed this opportunity when Usagawa invited him, he did not know when he would be able to enter the Usagawa residence again.

I have no choice but to do it.

He prepared himself and entered the mansion.

The apprentice guided him to the Japanese-style room where a boxed set of dishes and sake were prepared.

“The master still has some work to do, so if you don't mind, please go ahead and begin.”

“Oh, thank you very much! Well, then, enjoy!” Mikio said and began to drink from the cups. The apprentice bowed politely and went away.

Now… I must do it.

Mikio left his room and began to search the house.

However, since he had been sluggishly stalling the opportunity to do it, he had a general idea of where the key to the warehouse was located.

It was in the altar at the back of the mansion.

“Bingo.”

Mikio grinned when he found the key successfully. After making a mold with the clay Suwa had prepared, Mikio put the key back where it had originally been and he put his hand in front of the altar as if he was praying.

“Thank you”

Then, he returned to the room where he was before with a nonchalant look. Relieved that everything had gone as smoothly as it had, he downed a glass of sake.

“Yum!”

Mikio knew that the unpleasant feeling he had felt before, which he couldn't describe, was just his imagination. Because the sake was so good.

Then Usagawa finally arrived.

“Well, come on, it's the pre-celebration!” Usagawa was holding something in his hand.

“What is this…?”

Mikio looked at it and saw that it was a soft clothes for baby diaper. It was an expensive-looking clothes that would be useful in the coming cold season.

“The celebration is not for the cafe, it’s for Shino’s….”

“I thought she would be in full term soon.”

Mikio couldn't taste the sake at once.

Notes:

*komatsuna: Japanese mustard spinach, a leafy vegetable.

.…..to be continued in chapter 76……https://www.tumblr.com/kenkaodoll/747021286034849792/kamiya-dojo-monogatari-tale-76-jump-sq-2406?source=share 

TLnote(1): translating Japanese is so hard because the sentence structure is very different compared with English. Also the style of writing is different, plus there’s a lot of figurative, poetic language and things that don't make sense if it’s directly translated into english. So forgive me if this is very weird to read, and please tell me if you want to give corrections. 

TLnote(2) I will provide the original Japanese text for correction if any of you who read have better knowledge of the Japanese language. Just dm and I’ll send the file.

TLnote(3) Dtninja had translated some earlier chapters on his website. You can go and check on there

Read the rest of the story here: https://www.tumblr.com/kenkaodoll/686193523858538496/rurouni-kenshin-tales-of-kamiya-dojo?source=share

[miidia]

Hi Tumblr. It has been a hot minute. I've missed you a lot. I spend more time on Pinterest and Tik Tok these days... things have changed quite a bit.

Anyway, this is my first attempt at starting a blog. I have chosen the temporary title of 'miidia' as a pun/portmanteau of Mii and media. Do ya get it? 'Cause it's me (mii, à la Nintendo Wii) and the media that has made, is making, and continues to make me. Pretty easy concept, right?

Let's start with an easy one. Here's an album I come back to for a few months each year like clockwork. The place where it all began, folks. Kero Kero Bonito's first 2013 mixtape, Intro Bonito. What a masterpiece. This isn't an album review; I'm just here to appreciate. Where to even begin... I've been to two KKB concerts. At my first, I got a trucker hat and a t-shirt. I have both to this day.

I digress; so many of the tracks on this album are so iconic, it's hard to pick the standouts. "My Party" is intensely difficult to leave out of this discussion. I'm having a party / Everyone can come. What's not to like? Cake and jelly and ice cream / Enough for everyone. I'm drooling. Seriously. In my mind, this is a children's birthday party. Bright colors, sweet treats, silly music... What's noticeably absent? Drugs, alcohol, the escape from stress for which a party is supposedly for... Why is it that kids seem to have more fun at their parties than we do as adults? Don't we better understand the value of recreation and free time with how stressful our lives are? One day, I am going to have the adult version of this birthday party. Vanilla and chocolate cakes with rainbow sprinkles and cute frosting messages. Rainbow decorations, table cloths, silly treats, silly music... silliness all around.

The afterglow is inevitable. On "I'd Rather Sleep", KKB hits a nerve. The tempo and instrumentals are fun, whimsical, silly... everything our party should be. The lyrics are a bit different. KKB has had a few tracks from their earlier days go viral on Tik Tok as sounds far after their release. This is one such track. It was dutifully coopted by the 'liminal space' and 'backrooms' edit community, conjuring themes of dissociation, obsession with nostalgia and adolescence, and an all around bizarre dream state. This is a disquieting yet pleasant place.

Intro Bonito is a very spacial album. It feels like a structure to be explored, climbed, discovered, lost, and re-discovered.

I have more to say, as I always will, but I think this is a enough for now. A good starting place, I guess.

Until next time,

Goose

[qnewsau]

Fortescue boss Mark Hutchinson issues apology to gay staff

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/fortescue-boss-mark-hutchinson-issues-apology-to-gay-staff/

Fortescue boss Mark Hutchinson issues apology to gay staff

Mark Hutchinson, the CEO of Australian mining giant Fortescue’s energy business, has apologised to the company’s gay staff over his ties to an anti-LGBTQIA religious group.

The Australian Financial Review recently asked Hutchinson about how Fortescue’s diversity and inclusion policy aligns with the views of the evangelical church he leads, Alpha International.

Alpha International calls for a “re-evangelisation of the nations” and strongly opposes same-sex marriage, the AFR reported.

In sermon videos aimed at teenagers, Alpha International claims Jesus wants to “guide” them in their sexuality.

The sermons preach the Bible makes ��clear” that sex should exclusively occur between men and women within marriage and can “cause a lot of damage when it is misused”.

Fortescue chairman Andrew Forrest responds

Mark Hutchinson declined to comment but when the AFR published a story, he sent an all-staff email on Thursday.

“Our entire global workforce come from different faiths, religions and backgrounds – and what I love is our diversity in all of its forms,” he wrote at the time.

“Fortescue has an industry-leading commitment to diversity and human rights, and of course, our values underpin all that we do. I love our values and our diversity. These values guide me as CEO in everything I do.”

But that email lacked any mention of LGBTQIA+ people, something Fortescue staff raised with the company’s Board.

On Sunday, Fortescue’s billionaire chairman Andrew Forrest responded to the disquiet on behalf of the Board.

“I would like to reassure you all on behalf of our Board, that we are resolutely committed to the cause of equal rights. We expect and require the same of our leadership,” Forrest wrote in his email.

“We uplift, empower, and celebrate every employee and protect each of them from all kinds of discrimination; this categorically includes on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity, including the freedom, to choose your partner.

Forrest wrote that Fortescue “deeply values Fortescue’s LGBTQIA+ community. At a personal level, I stand with you.”

‘I apologise unreservedly’

On Sunday, Mark Hutchinson also sent a separate all-staff email to “clarify” his previous comments.

“After speaking with some of you over the past few days, I am aware that by failing to clarify my views on same-sex relationships in my comments last week that I’ve let you down,” his email reads.

“This was certainly not my intention, and I apologise unreservedly. I wish to state clearly that I am supportive of everyone in a same-sex marriage and same-sex relationships and value the LGBTQIA+ community.

He went on, “I believe that all of us are equal and I accept and support every member of our team. I want everyone to have the freedom to be who they are.”

Meanwhile, a Fortescue spokesperson said, “All our staff live by the Fortescue values in every aspect of their employment, fostering an inclusive, safe working environment for all employees.”

Mark Hutchinson joined Fortescue in July 2022 and is currently the boss of Fortescue’s green energy arm, Fortescue Energy.

He and his partner became directors of Alpha International last year. The AFR reports they are two of the organisation’s 17 directors.

Andrew Forrest’s child Sophia is non-binary and married their partner Zara Zoe (both pictured below) in August at the family’s Minderoo station.

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Sof Forrest (@sophia.forrest)

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news,��entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[steelpetals]

( 𝟭𝟬.𝟮𝟰 𝗣𝗠, 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. )

𝔇read of the decisions faced in life, disquiet of the results of the life that has been lived.

Everything feels like a movie, You'd bleed just to know you're alive.

Seeing a future that might be bright and according to expectations, will it happen? Will I experience it?

Kenneth Savério, 1998.

────────

Disclaimer.

To avoid confusion, I would like to state that this account is exclusively for roleplaying and entertainment purposes. I am not the artist (Park Seonghwa) and have no affiliation with the real individual or company.

Official Accounts: Instagram / X

Additional notes:

I’m very selective with my followings. Make sure your account has clear information about your FC or contains some indicators like MVRP, OCRP or GEN!RP.

Warning! I might be posting some sensitive (NSFW) contents. However, I’ll make sure to post the media using a sensitive/nudity content flag if I ever do.

I’ll be using ENG/ID on timeline.

Don't hesitate to send me a DM for further inquiries. I'm always up for a good conversation

[the-dreaming-writer]

A Letter. (I)

My Flame,

What more is there to say of they with the glowing fist?

Of all twelve, I learn the least from talking with the Spark. Not because they hide their intentions like the others but because of their unparalleled openness. They wear their every intent on their sleeves, making it impossible for me to learn anything new from them that the world had not already known. Given that they had made their debut.

And what a debut it was here.

Locating the figure heralded as the Bull of Rovio took only days. Getting to them proved much more challenging, as the entirety of the city was—how to put this delicately—looking to drive a stake through anyone with the tiniest inkling of an aristocratic background. I suppose I could have thrown on a different face and slummed in with the locals to earn an early interview, but I have never been one to obsess over lost time, and like I said, I expected to learn as much from a distance anyhow.

I had discovered it was a girl—not even a woman, although you would not be remiss to picture a horrifying demon by the way they refused to even whisper her name. Not out of fear, since those outside her city underestimate how terrified they should be, but out of necessity, I believe. I suppose it is much easier to imagine that they are striking down monsters than to say they are struggling with a band of barely teenagers.

April, her name was, though I need clarification on the last name.

Fusdae, Dalle, or Valcourt? The former two do not have any traceable family roots that I can follow up in any meaningful way, and the latter is a high house. A damning point that would nullify its candidacy if it were not also the title I have seen for her in reputable academic texts.

If you are already wetting your pen in contempt, please withhold it. You know that I, more than anyone, know names do not matter. There is something more here than my own fondness for frivolous pedantry. I would not have batted an eye if it were any of the rest with these faux names. But not them. Never them.

I know them. Her. She with the glowing fist.

I know her better than she knows herself. She does not play this game of alter egos, our complex web of identities and deceptions. It runs counter to everything she is. Not many can even force her to play this game, and it is disquieting that I can readily locate none of those suspects who can.

No matter. I will soon do so, for my patience is plentiful.

I have caught wind of change. House Villeneuve has taken an interest in the state of the wretched town, and to my and everyone's surprise, their convoys have been allowed past the flaming wastes of all the others' endeavors at the same thing. The people owe it to their lesser status, a barbed comment that scarce conceals their envy. I am not convinced of this. Nonetheless, this presents a way I can exploit, not immediately but in due time, to have that talk I have been itching about.

I will write you soon then.

Not yet yours, N.

[sgam76]

Many years ago I worked in a building in downtown Baton Rouge that had been part of the state government offices for former governor Huey Long (look him up--he was a piece of work. Eventually ASSASSINATED--no joke). Across the street was an abandoned, once-fancy hotel that was owned by the same people that owned my building, and was in the midst of a (slow) renovation to prep it for sale.

The buildings were connected by a tunnel that ran under the street--Huey Long had supposedly had it built so that he could secretly visit his mistress in the hotel without any prying eyes noticing.

The maintenance guy in our building also acted as a "security guard" of sorts for the vacant hotel. He was TERRIFIED of the place, ever since he saw a man in a "white suit" walk down the hall out of nowhere and then WALK THROUGH THE WALL. This guy had no idea who Huey Long was before I told him about him--including the fact that Huey always wore white linen suits. After that he refused to be in the building alone.

One afternoon he took me and a couple of my folks over to the hotel (not thru the tunnel--we noped out of that part). As we moved to get in the elevator I had a STRONG feeling of disquiet--just Did Not Like It (even though I am the farthest thing from fanciful, honestly). We wandered around abandoned floors for a while--the work crews weren't currently in the building, so it was just us. But I kept hearing someone's radio playing, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. I assumed one of the workers had left it plugged in and turned on.

I mentioned it when we got back to the office--and all of the folks looked at me in confusion. None of them had heard any music. Again, no one in the building. And (here's the kicker) THERE WAS NO POWER anywhere in the building except for the elevator--everything else was turned off.

So where did the music come from, and why was I the only one who heard it?

*"Ghost" should be taken to include other similar paranormal entities such as spirits, ghouls, poltergeists, hauntings, etc.

If you believe ghosts are "real" in the sense that they're a psychological effect in the observer's mind and not paranormal, answer "no, and I don't believe they're real."

And if you have a good true ghost story, please share it!

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[oftarotandnoodledragons]

Seventy-Six: XVI The Tower (Reversed)

Not everything that is faced can be changed. But nothing can be changed until it is faced.… Most of us are about as eager to change as we were to be born, and go through our changes in a similar state of shock. -James Baldwin

There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man. -Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear

In the days of her affliction and wandering     Jerusalem remembers all the treasures     that were hers in days of old. When her people fell into enemy hands,     there was no one to help her. Her enemies looked at her     and laughed at her destruction. -Lamentations, 1:7 (NIV)

When at some point in our lives, we meet a real tragedy – which could happen to any one of us – we can react in two ways. Obviously we can lose hope, let ourselves slip into discouragement, into alcohol, drugs, and unending sadness. Or else, we can wake ourselves up, discover in ourselves an energy that has hidden there, and act with more clarity, more force. -Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama

So here it is. The big one. The deadly venomous snake in the grass. The black edifice. The portent of doom. The harbinger of dread. Oh, Tower, how fearful is thy lofty crown; oh, lightning, how thy shock freezes the heart. The themes of this card are unsettling. The energies are disquieting. And sometimes, that's what is needed.

I daresay that anyone who has looked into Tarot has a history with this card. Mine, is that on one of the first occasions when I was exploring the deck to see what message it had for me, I was using the Celtic Cross spread, and this card appeared at Position IX, the position of hopes and fears. Yes, I am afraid of this card and what it could mean. My allusions to it throughout the blog so far has come from it. I was worried that, throughout the last parts of the journey when I was able to identify what cards remained, that I would pull The Tower, it would signal a shock, and one of the minor arcana cards would reflect what that shock was, be it a sudden lack of resources of the Five of Pentacles, or the heartbreak of the Five of Cups. But now that I've reached this point, I've grown even in the past ten months and come to realise a truth that I knew was there, deep down, that this card is not all doom and gloom. Hey, that's one of the card's themes; more on that soon.

I feel like this card is so well-known that my analysis would be superfluous and superficial; but as I intend to use this blog to be a reflective reference point for my own divinations in the future, it behooves me to put my own interpretations of this card based on the knowledge and insights I have gained (and since I've been preparing myself for this card, I feel I've been able to make this entry in quick time). Since Paschkis's depiction is just a simplified version of Smith's depiction, let's start with Fairchild, since it is with his words that my journey began: "Everyone wants to be admired." Um. This is a very strange tack. Okay, this is typical Fairchild here, talking about something that I feel is tangential (but hey, maybe one's Tower is to make one seen and be above the rest). Let's move on: "Others embellish the truth, but what's necessary and real will prevail." Okay. Now we're getting back on track. The prevalence of the necessary and real. Keep that thought in mind. "Illusions will be shattered, enemies revealed. Don't be upset if things don't turn out as planned. Try to compromise and see others' points of view." This is a somewhat sheltered view of the card from the furious storm that its energies tend to be otherwise. Bunning is the key to describe these energies: "going through sudden change", "release", and "downfall". The release portion I see as a sort of catharsis, outburst, or violent resignation. And as for sudden change and downfall, they're very self-explanatory. It is these two themes in particular that scare me about this card: the shock of the lightning's sudden flash out of nowhere, and then the plummet and destruction.

Surely such a drastic, dramatic thing seems needless and unfortunate, right? Well, no, and that's the hard-to-swallow medicine that is the true heart of this card. Where the Tower once stood, built by dodgy craftsmanship using the bricks of falsehoods and the mortar of lies, is the foundation of truth. Without the Tower blocking the way, one can see the beautiful vista. One can see things as they really are, the impurities have been cleansed, one is left with the bare necessities; and Bunning's fourth theme of "revelation" comes to the fore. Thirteen and Esselmont both expound the severity of the situation and destruction but also that what is destroyed is the falsehoods. The shock, the release, the downfall, doesn't happen to someone, it happens for someone. And what lies in the ruins...it's a somewhat backhanded blessing, but oh, the sweetness of opportunity is a balm for the tears. The chance for renewal. The chance for hope: after all, The Star is the card that follows in the Major Arcana.

It is this pursuit of truth that, for me, colours the Reversed Tower and underpins its themes. Oh, don't get me wrong, Thirteen is right in saying that it could be that the status-quo is maintained, the Tower is being kept safe from destruction, or the occupants are the ones hurling the lightning at the sky as if to thumb at divine will; the truth remains covered, regardless of which way it is interpreted. And Fairchild is right to opine inevitable delays, a likely fall from glory (which is more an Upright theme, in my opinion), and to meet the abundant opposition and lack of co-operation with compassion and charity: once again, tangential, but indicative of a time of upheaval and a potential dark night of the soul. And then there's what I consider one of my most profound interpretations: the figures aren't falling to the ground but falling into the sky, with the unpleasant disruption not seeming to end for some time.

But nothing compares to Esselmont's view here, at least in regards to personal resonance at the moment; and the sad thing is, the entirety of space I had in my book for this card is taken up with Bunning and Thirteen's views since I wrote it before discovering her site, so I can only hope that this blog will serve to remind me of her gracious viewpoints. Firstly, she suggests that one could see the impending danger of disaster and is taking steps to avoid or mitigate it: this view is given with no judgement. Secondly, and more in line with my resonance, she suggests that the change is not coming from an external force, but from within. In one of Ediya's readings last year that I felt applied to me, she gave me the idea of The Tower not representing the usual shock-release-downfall view, but more of going ahead and stripping one's ego of what is undesired and incongruent with where one wants to go. "Gentle", was her word, and that seems oxymoronic when used in conjunction with The Tower but that right there was the beginning point of letting me see this card anew, not as the looming spectre of terror but as the blessed outcome. Not all downfalls are unwelcome. Not all releases are violent. Not all change has to be a shock.

This is where I am right now. I am working to change myself. But, as Esselmont also points out (and goes in line with Thirteen), that change is being resisted. I want to change things. I know I need to change things. But change is hard, after all; yet, I am trying, despite what it may seem on the outside, to be better and to do better. I am examining those parts of myself that I want to improve and rather than meeting myself with scorn and disdain, I am winning over that voice in my head: I hear it but refuse to let myself be affected by it. Even if I go two steps forward and one back, I am still making progress. Yes, it is hard. But I look back even ten months ago and I am not the same person then as I am now. I am getting better. The false bricks of harsh self-criticism that once made up me are being removed one by one. The Tower Reversed has been active, if not signposted, for me for quite some time, and dare I say it, I have welcomed its presence.

Will The Tower continue to frighten me? Yes. Will The Tower continue to represent sudden shocks and violent upheavals? Yes. But I've been blest to have this new view, one where the Tower falls not because of the lightning that comes out of nowhere but because one has called the demolition company, even where the owner of the Tower is driving the bulldozer. The Tower has a positive side to it, after all, hidden beneath its reputation. Having this card so late in the journey has given me the opportunity to have this more mature view of its energies. And tied into it is a sense of relief: what I thought would be an impending storm turned out to be welcome rain in fertile fields, and with its passing, the last two cards on this journey will be under sunny skies. Yes, the next card is the Eight of Wands (ah, so we know what the last will be), and while it and the one that follows have their share of slings and arrows, the relief I feel will make up for any pains, and the insight that The Tower promises is the food I need to energise my final steps.

[angelasscribbles]

Hinge: Rules of Procedure

Series: Hinge.

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairings: Drake x Riley x Liam

Rating: Teen/Everyone

Warnings: none  

Word count: 985

A/N: Complicated ended with them getting on the jet back to Cordonia, so that makes this chronologically the first chapter of Hinge, occurring their first full day home. The press conference is over but the royal council has questions, and concerns.

Everything else: Master List.

The press conference had gone amazingly well.

With Madeleine backing their version of events, media outlets and noble houses alike were scrambling to beg Riley’s forgiveness. She was cast in the papers as a victim of a baseless smear campaign.

The press had been a breeze to handle.

The royal council was another beast entirely. They were up in arms that Liam had announced an engagement without their consent or even knowledge.

“A royal engagement requires council approval, Liam, you know this!” Henrich Carlise, the Duke of Combaria was red in the face as he spluttered, “What was that we just witnessed? You announced an engagement without council approval, to the press just days after breaking your council approved engagement! What kind of message does that send?”

Riley glanced nervously at Liam, but he betrayed no trace of disquiet. His demeanor was calm and relaxed as he brushed the dust from the stage off his trouser leg.

It sent the message that the king of Cordonia answered to no one.  

“Well?” Duke Carlisle demanded.

“First of all,” Liam straightened in his seat and faced the council, “I would remind you that I am your king and you would do well to address me accordingly.”

The duke paled a little but he stiffened his spine as he responded, “I’m aware of your title, Your Majesty, as I’m sure you are aware of-“

“What I am aware of is that the provision in our charter that requires me to be engaged to ascend the throne does not require me to stay engaged to keep it.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the council members.   

“You may check the laws yourself, of course,” He continued, “but I can assure you, that is the case. I do not have to be married or engaged at all if I don’t want to be, and the charter only conveys the power of approval to the council for formal betrothals of a crown prince or princess, not a sitting king.”

The room erupted in protests. Liam raised a hand for quiet and the room fell silent, “Lord Rashad Faheem is here as my personal council and he can apprise you of the finer points of the law. You’re also free to have the royal attorneys look it over but it won’t change anything.”

He would know. He had spent every night for nearly a month pouring over the documents trying to find a way out of his engagement to Madeleine. And he had.

“I would also remind the council that each and every one of you serves at the pleasure of the king. You can be dismissed and replaced at my sole discretion.”

There were a few indignant murmurs but no one said a word out loud.

“Good!” Liam gloated, “Now that we have that settled, what’s next on the agenda?”

“Li-Your Majesty,” William Lancaster, the Duke of Glochester spoke, “There is the matter of the marriage contract. This isn’t a matter of council overreach, it’s a matter of state security! A marriage contract must be signed before any royal wedding can take place!”

Liam’s eyes slid to Riley. She gave him a small smile and a shrug. To the council, she stated, “I’ll sign whatever is needed. I’m not marrying him for his money.”

The duke nodded at her with an apologetic look, “It’s about more than just money my dear-“

Liam cleared his throat and gave the duke a pointed look.

The older man flushed, then addressed Riley more formally, “It’s about more than just money, Your Grace. It’s about power and politics and lines of succession.”

“That’s fine, Your Grace,” Riley smiled serenely, “I have no objections to a marriage contract.”

“Of course, she’ll have her own personal representation look everything over before signing anything,” Drake interjected.

“Why are you here?” a third member of the council asked in annoyance.

“He’s here at my behest,” Liam answered, “I have appointed Mr. Walker as Duchess Riley’s personal cultural attaché. His background as half American and half Cordonian gives him unique insights into how to help her best navigate any cultural landmines that she and I, being monocultural, might not see coming. I’m confident that his unique knowledge and insight into both her native culture and her adopted one will prove invaluable to her as she transitions into her new role as queen.”

A mixture of glances were shot at Drake, from resentful to respectful to surprised.

“Get used to me, gentlemen,” Drake told them, his face impassive, “I’ll be sitting in on any meetings that include the queen in waiting from now until such time she, or the king, deigns my services are no longer needed.”

Riley leaned into Drake to ask him in a whisper, “Why are they all old, white men? Shouldn’t the royal council be more reflective of the population it serves?”

Drake smirked and whispered back, “the royal council only serves itself. But that is something you might want to take up with Liam.”

“Oh, I will,” she smiled disarmingly at the room full of geriatric statesmen as her mind flipped through a Rolodex of younger dukes, like Maxwell, and duchesses like Olivia, and Kiara, and considered the addition of an advisory board made up of commoners.

“If that’s everything?” Liam stood, effectively ending the meeting, “We have the Homecoming Ball tomorrow night. We need to prepare for that.”

They would deal with marriage contracts, staff appointments, and getting Riley up to speed on the details of her new position later.

All he wanted to do for the rest of this day was get his fiancée alone in their quarters.

Tomorrow night he would announce her new position as Duchess of Valtoria, they would be presented at the ball together, as an official couple, for the first time, and the whole world would see how he felt about her.

He couldn’t wait.

The Homecoming Ball was going to be perfect.

Homecoming Part One

Homecoming Part Two

[ryusukeswife]

hey bestie!! could you perhaps do a ryusuke minami x gn! reader that's hurt / comfort? preferably after ryusuke gets his shit wrecked by leon! thank you :)

SWEET

— [ ryusuke minami x gn!reader ]

summary . when you got a call from chiba about ryusuke’s mysterious disappearance, your world was put in shambles. though he was only gone for a few days, it was the scariest 48 hours of your existence. you expected him to have gone to new york unannounced, but when he showed up to your doorstep with cuts and bruises on his face, you knew that there was something lurking below the surface.

contents . hurt & comfort / mentions of blood and bruises / violence / mentions of kidnapping / ryusuke passes it off as “no big deal” but the reader goes bonkers / comfort at the end.

author’s note. i did not expect a beck request this early on! thank you, anon for also being my first ever request. i love ryusuke & i would literally die for him, omfg— reminder that my ask box is open!

How could he had been so careless? That’s what you’ve been asking yourself for longer than you have practically known Ryusuke Minami. No matter what you would say to him, your words would go through one ear, then right out the other one. He would always wave his hand and tell you that he would be “fine” if things ever went wrong. But how could you be so sure about that?

You received a call from Chiba days prior ; him telling you that Ryusuke had mysteriously disappeared and had not left a call on anyone’s phone about his whereabouts. You checked your voice inbox. Nothing. You called his cellphone about 10 times. Nothing. You messaged him frantically and asked if he was alive. No response.

— [ 10 : 45 P.M. , Wed 27th ]

Ray, I know you’re looking at your phone right now. Tell me where the hell you are.

— [ 2 : 34 A.M. , Wed 27th ]

Can you at least give me one answer?

— [ 1 : 23 P.M. , Wed 27th ]

You’re scaring us shitless. This isn’t funny.

— [ 12 : 12 A.M. , Thurs 28th ]

I am once again asking you for some indication that you’re alive.

— [ 9 : 45 P.M. , Thurs 28th ]

Ray, we are getting desperate right now. Please, for the love of god, answer your phone and let any of us know that you’re breathing.

Hours felt like seconds for those last 2 days. Every time your phone rang, you would pick it up to see if there was any message left by Ryusuke. Every time you checked, there would be nothing of the sorts. Koyuki proposed the idea of filing a missing person’s report, but Saku objected the idea and suggested that everyone remained patient.

On Friday night ; almost 2 days after Ryusuke’s disappearance, you received a notification from your cellphone. You turned over in your bed to stare at the screen. A message from Ryusuke :

— [ 12 : 34 A.M. , Fri 29th ]

I’m outside. Let me in.

You jolted up from your bed and ran to the front door, preparing to give Ryusuke a ear full by the time you saw him on the other side of the door. You opened it to something unexpected. Bruises… and blood ; all on his face, the knuckles on his hand blemished, practically forming scabs already. “What the hell happened?” Your voice was stern, but at the same time, full of disquiet about the state he was in.

“Look, I’ll tell you everything if you let me inside. You don’t suppose you have bandages ; band-aids, rubbing alcohol, or anything like that?” Normally, he wasn’t in much of a hurry to patch up his wounds when he would get in tussles with Chiba, or hell, even Eiji in the past. By the way he was struggle to walk with a limp in his leg, it was clear that he was really hurt.

You stepped back from the door and allowed him to walk in, shutting it behind the two of you. “Sit down, I’m pretty sure I have something.” A few minutes later, you walked back to the living room with a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol and same white bandages.

You took out a cotton ball from the small package and dabbled some of the substance on it. Ryusuke sat on the sofa absentmindedly, his eyes squinted as you pressed the ball to his y healed scars. “Damn, that stings,” he huffed.

“No shit. You got beaten to a fucking pulp,” you inquired, covering up the tended cut with a bandage, “I let you in my house and I’m patching you up. I think I deserve to know where the hell you’ve been.”

Ryusuke sat in silence, as if trying to ponder what to say— or even how to put the situation into words. Internally, you took humor in the idea that he might’ve pissed off a local gang and got put up for ransom— but pissed them off too much that they decided to just let him go. It sounded like a ‘Ryusuke’ thing to do, after all.

“You’re going to think I’m insane,” he began, “but I got kidnapped by the manager of music in the United States. He was after Lucille.”

“You’re kidding,” you rolled your eyes at him, sliding the piece of cotton over his bleeding knuckles, “you’re messing with me, right?” You adverted your eyes to him, quite literally expecting anything but a serious undertone to his words.

“I swear to god, I’m not!” Ryusuke answered defensively, “do you seriously think that I would disappear and not give you all some kind of warning? That Leon guy — he pointed a gun to my head, y/n!”

Silence filled the room as you retracted the cotton ball, seeing as how the pain that treating Ryusuke’s wounds would come with would supposedly set him off if you continued. “How did you make it out alive?” You asked.

“I…” Ryusuke took a deep breath, “Grateful Sounds ; BECK has to get more audience members than any stage. If not, then we have to disband ; I’ll work under Leon until the day that I’ll probably die.”

“Are you going to tell them that?” You slipped a band-aid on his set of knuckles.

“Fuck no, y/n. Especially not Chiba — he’ll go insane. If I tell them that, then they’re all just going to bail before we can even think about making it big.”

“And what if you don’t? What if they find out at the festival? Is it really worth putting that pressure on them?” You scooted closer to Ryusuke, who was looking down at his sweat pants ; he probably wore them for the last two days, for they were also stained with blood near the heels.

“All of our futures depend on this. Not just mine.” On the outside, Ryusuke might’ve seemed to accept the fact that it would be Becks’ last concert ever, but his face told a whole different story.

“Ray,” you put an arm around his shoulder, “if it makes you feel any better, I think — no, I know that you all have the ability to surpass that goal. It sucks, really. I don’t want you to go back to America. I was just getting comfortable with you.” You laughed. Surprisingly, he laughed too. Though it wasn’t a very enthusiastic one… he laughed.

“Yeah? Well I’m expecting you to be at Stage 3 by 7 P.M. , if not, I just might give up and throw myself off the stage,” he teased.

“No you wouldn’t,” you said with a smile, “no you wouldn’t.”

[foxtophat]

Dr. Robotnik hears some disquieting rumors. Agent Stone is forced to explain himself.

fellas, is it gay to turn the insults you heard as a child into backhanded compliments towards your inferiors???

Sometimes I think about Jim Carrey as Robotnik and think "yeah that guy was the grinch" but other times... other times I remember that he also was Phillip Morris. And then I get to remind myself that Lee Majdoub makes out with a pink-haired prince in Dirk Gently and I get to be happy with everything in my life once more!

The usual: please like, comment, reblog, kudos, etc etc etc, I love all the feedback I've been getting so far and I am thirsty for more!!!

SHORT FIC so i'll put it under a cut here. I HOPE you enjoy!!!!

There are few things that irritate Robotnik more than false pretenses. He believes the General knows this about him. That's why it's extra rankling to hear the words, "Hold on, there's one more thing," as he rises to leave at the end of this clandestine meeting. Their lengthy discussion of the newest model's recent accuracy ratings has already taken more time than it really warranted, and now this?

He doesn't bother to hide his irritation as the General asks for more of his precious time. "What is it now?" he demands. "I have things to do."

"It's nothing to worry about," the General says. He sounds calm, embarrassed even, but somehow that is not reassuring. "I just wanted to see how the new agent was working out for you."

"What? Why?" Robotnik snaps. "He does his job and doesn't need any hand-holding. What more is there?"

"So you have no problems with him at all?" the General prods, ungracefully as ever. "No... concerns with his attitude towards you?"

Well, this is certainly a curious line of conversation. Stone has been perfectly adequate so far; mild-mannered, professional, and obedient. He does everything Robotnik asks and only asks the most necessary clarifying questions.

"If I didn't know any better," he prods, "I would think you miss all of my incessant complaining."

"Oh, Lord, no," the man laughs, making a face. It can't be that bad if he's in the mood for kidding around. "I'm happy so long as you're happy. I was... just curious." He shifts, obviously, and suggests, "I've heard things, that's all. Water cooler chatter."

Robotnik wonders what it is he's heard. What people must be saying. There are myths about himself out there, ones he's perpetuated and reinforced out of idle amusement, but Stone? What could they possibly have to say about him?

He's being led. Damn it, he knows he's being led.

"Just tell me what you're clearly dying to tell me," he snaps. "My time is precious, and I have other things to do than stand around here."

The General holds up a hand. "Alright, look. I found some... off-the-record talk about him, back at the CIA. I didn't think it was anything at first, but... Well.  They said he could be... a little odd. Obsessive."

"They referred to it as 'hyper focus' in his file," Robotnik replies. "You're not telling me anything I don't already know."

"Not just cases; people, too. Other agents, heads of state, historical conquerors... whatever tickled his fancy. He'd dig everything up there was to find, sometimes even things we had no idea about."

Robotnik hadn't known that. His unimpressed glare doesn't belie that fact. "And you sent him to me?"

"Like I said, I only just found out," the General replies. Well, at least his embarrassment finally makes sense. "When your assignment came up, he was the first one to formally request the transfer. His colleagues told me it was his dream job; I didn't clarify what they meant, which was my mistake. His record seemed clean, and he's... a friendly guy. I didn't think there was a problem until I heard the rumors."

Robotnik purses his lips. This is all news to him; Stone had said he'd done his research, but just what kind of research did he do?

"He mentioned Fuller Gulch to them. Called it out by name. Mentioned something about homeland security, too. The other agents didn't seem to know what he was talking about. They just said he was excited about the opportunity."

"I see," he says, which is all he's willing to give up to the situation.

"As far as I could find, he's harmless," the General continues. "I think he's just a little kooky and good at Google. But if you've had any concerns... now would be the time to bring them to me."

Robotnik smiles. The attempt goes over like a lead balloon if the General's expression is anything to go on. "No," he says, "I have no complaints. I'll be sure to let you know if that changes."

The satellite laboratory is two hours outside of DC., which gives Robotnik plenty of time to fume, speculate, and plot. Just how long had Stone been obsessing over him before he'd been given the assignment? He'd mentioned the cult in Montana, of all things! That happened eight years ago; for all he knows, Stone's been watching every project for his name for at least that long. But if that were the case, it's unlikely his obsessive nature would allow him to wait so long for a chance to get close. That would mean it's a more recent development; as the General implied, he likely found Robotnik while digging around for something else.

Which begs an entirely different question: if Stone had learned even a fraction of Robotnik's achievements for the U.S. government, why on Earth would he want to work for him? His creations, his accomplishments — they are heinous things, usually out-and-out war crimes, and no reasonable human would want anything to do with it. Only an oblivious moron, or somebody with an ulterior motive, would want to get as close to him as Stone has gotten these past few months. And as much as he loathes to admit it, Stone is not an oblivious moron.

That only leaves subterfuge, and by the time Robotnik storms down the halls in search of Stone, he's convinced himself thoroughly of that fact. Stone must be up to something. He must be documenting Robotnik's crimes for the media, or perhaps another country's government. Or he's compiling information to start his own competing business. Or he's looking to take Robotnik's job for his own. Oh, when he finds that dirty rat bastard, he's going to...

Stone doesn't turn when Robotnik enters, so he doesn't notice the dark look slung his way. He's reading something on a tablet, and Robotnik's rage nearly blinds him. The dedication would have been almost appreciated a few short hours ago; now, it serves as a reminder that he's had a rat in his home this entire time.

"How was your meeting?" Stone asks, distracted as he turns. Just how long has he been waiting to get his hands on the information in those files? How much of the naive schoolboy act had been just that, an act? He can neutralize two armed guards at once; there's no doubt he could do the same to Robotnik just as easily if he wanted. It's been two months. He's had ample opportunity to do something. They're almost entirely alone, aside from the security scattered around the compound.

Just what the hell is Stone waiting for?

Before he can reconsider the move, Robotnik grabs Stone by the throat and shoves him back up against the console. The surprise, the pure shock on Stone's face is a delight to see.

He bares his teeth in another unconvincing smile. "I heard the funniest little rumor about you today, Stone."

Stone could break free if he wanted to. Robotnik is well aware that Stone could dislocate both arms and leave him wailing on the floor if he was so inclined. And yet, he wouldn't know it from the feeling of Stone's pulse hammering in his throat, beating wildly against the palm pressing down on his neck.

"O-Oh?" Stone hiccups, eyes wide and wild with confusion.

"Enough of the innocent act," Robotnik growls. Stone's pulse leaps erratically at the words. "I know that you dug me up well before you were assigned to me. I know you found out about Fuller Gulch. I know that your colleagues called you obsessive." He gives Stone a little shake. "Just how long have you been stalking me, you little leech?"

Stone swallows beneath his hand. Robotnik presses down, grinning as Stone gags briefly.

"I — I don't —"

"You know who I am, Stone," Robotnik snarls. "Do not lie to me."

It would be so simple to throw him, but Stone doesn't. One of his hands lifts, then drops. The expected punch never materializes.

"Azerbaijanistan," Stone manages to say. "Somebody misplaced documents... I was assigned to reclaim them. And I — I saw, I found out what you'd done. I saw... everything. The videos of the coup. The swarm, the executions..."

"And?" Robotnik prods as Stone trails off.

"And..."

Stone looks wildly around the room for a moment, as if hunting for an escape route. Robotnik shakes him, just a little, and his attention obediently snaps back.

Finally, with a tremor to his voice, Stone admits, "It was... awe-inspiring. I didn't know it could be like that — the planning, the precision. Knowing which side of the stairs the guards took, which ones would run, which ones would fight... I. I couldn't get enough." He groans helplessly, as if finally rolling a massive weight off his back. "I found test footage of the drone flight patterns. Saw the field test in Montana, with the commune. One-hundred-percent kill rates, no user fatalities, incinerators built-in for clean up... It was beautiful."

The words are thrilling. The snarl of teeth Robotnik has on display softens with pride, very nearly becoming something genuine. And yet, his fingers remain clasped under Stone's jaw, frozen as if being targeted with an electrical current.

"The General didn't care to repeat what your former colleagues said about you... but I can guess." He leans in as if sharing a friendly secret. Stone's breathing picks up into a series of hurried gasps. Something in the way his eyes catch the light feels wild and strangely familiar, almost like looking into a fun-house mirror. "Oh, I know exactly what they think of you. That you're disturbed. The General called you obsessive, but they certainly had harsher words for you. You little monster. You nasty, obsessive, disturbed little freak. Is that what they called you? Is that what you are?"

Stone's eyelids flutter, his head canting forward in a barely-there admission. "Yes, sir," he rasps. "They didn't know the half of it, sir."

Robotnik grins. "No, of course they didn't. Because, as flawed and simple and myopic as you may be, Stone, you still manage to barely surpass the rest of the human detritus filling the planet. No, they could never know the half of it. They could barely comprehend what they already knew."

"No, sir," Stone whispers. His hand lifts again, and this time his fingers land lightly on Robotnik's sleeve. "No, they could not."

At last, Robotnik's fingers spasm, releasing Stone from their stranglehold. He should step away, reassert some distance, but he doesn't. He likes looming over Stone, who seems equally happy to cower in his shadow.

"Now," he asks, "What am I to do with you, my sneaky little deviant?"

Stone tips his head forward. When he looks up at Robotnik, his normally wide eyes are lidded and dark.

"I am at your disposal, doctor," he says.

For one brief moment, Robotnik is hanging out the thirtieth-story window of a skyscraper all over again. He takes a deep breath, using it to sigh loudly. "And until I dispose of you, you should be focusing on compiling those data points from yesterday's test. Yet, here you are, loitering around, staring at me like some kind of..."

He snaps his fingers impatiently. Stone smiles; warm, radiant, happy. "A cow-eyed schoolboy, sir?"

"Sure, that'll do. Now get back to work, already!"

Stone hurries to do what he's told without further command. When he leaves the room, Robotnik, at last, feels like he's standing on solid ground, but somehow the imperceptible topography of reality has shifted around him. Landmarks remain the same, but the details are strange and new, and Robotnik finds himself now in unfamiliar territory. The only consolation comes from the understanding that, perhaps, he isn't alone in the feeling; that maybe somewhere down the hall, Stone is also looking around at a similarly strange new world.