#i had two more but the quality on them just like random crapped out so

[ilkkawhat]

[writing-whump]

On the train

We are starting the road trip! Have some sick Rip at the train with Dylan and Hector.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Hector said, chewing his lower lip.

"Totally sure," Arnie repeated.

"Absolutely and completely?"

"Urreversibly," Arnie said with a grin.

"I don't know. Isaiah is finally feeling better, the trip is a great opportunity to spend quality time with him..."

Arnie lifted his hands. "Go and enjoy it. I'm glad you guys are reconnecting."

"You should be reconnecting too."

"You need it more. Besides, it's basically a wolf road trip."

"I'm taking Olive to meet Isaiah. He is taking Seline. They are historical tourist cities. Enough space for humans."

"It's gonna be all couply and cheezy. I won't stand in the way."

Hector must have looked pathetic, because Arnie's expression softened.

"To be real with you, I'm really okay. I don't believe you are neglecting me or leaving me out. I want to try to have two weeks for myself without your check ins and control and random bursts into the place."

Hector eyed him sceptically. "That makes me want to go even less. What do you want to do without my supervision?"

Arnie stuck his tounge at him. "No parties, passing out drunk or doing drugs. Swear. I'm gonna be responsible."

Hector frowned, looking down.

A sigh from Arnie. "Hex, I love you, man, but you are smothering me. I'm trying to make friends outside the freaking pack and I can't have them over, stay over and you scare whoever stops by the door. Please, just go."

"Arnie..." He didn't know what to say. It made sense. It also made his chest heavy with panic and dread.

"We are gonna figure something out, okay? I'll look into apartments-"

Hector jumped up from where he had been leaning against the table. "What-"

"Two apartments," Arnie cut in. "Two. Next to each other. So you can hover behind another wall, if you won't allow me the student dormitory. And honestly, this could solve crap for you too. You spend most of your waking time with Olive in that tiny place, cause you can't bring her over to the pack base. You need a place where you can be together and you can keep me safe. Perfect solution."

"I have no idea where such a place could be," Hector said dryly, looking away in shame. Maybe he really did spent a lot of time with Olive now. He hated he couldn't have his two most important people at one place.

Sure, he did get Arnie and Olive together from time to time and they were on good terms. But he couldn't bring Olive to the pack as his human girlfriend. Not as his chosen partner. It was dangerous and risking an upheaval he wasn't ready to deal with. He needed more people in his corner first.

Plus, it would put Olive in danger too. Uncomfortable at the very least. He didn't know how to explain what being with him would entail...and if he could, he would spare her from it for as long as it was possible.

"I can't believe you're gonna leave me alone with Rip," Hector said, cause it was easier than acknowledging the rest.

Arnie watched him knowingly though. "It's not gonna be so bad. You spend 2 days in the car with him last summer. A one day train ride will be much easier."

"That's just the first part. I thought you would be there keeping me company."

"You will have Dylan and then Isaiah, Sel and Olive waiting for you there after the flight. You won't even notice the guy for the rest of the trip."

"That would be too soon. I don't like him."

Arnie chuckled. "I don't think so. You are jealous, but that's not really his fault, is it?"

"I know. It's Isaiah's."

That earned him an eyeroll. "Jeez. One of these days, you could also stop thinking about relationships in hierarchies. People don't just get replaced, they create new roles for themselves."

The younger boy leaned into Hector's side casually. "I'm so not worried about Olive replacing me or whatever you keep stringing up in Hector-fantasy-land, okay? Go and enjoy the trip."

...

Rip wasn't particularly happy about the travel arrangement either.

On one hand it was cool they didn’t have to take an extra car for him. And that this wasn’t a training trip but a real holiday kind of thing.

Rip loved travelling. He had managed to criss-cross most of Europe on his own — on top of trains, hitchhiking rides, walking the backroads. He avoided crowds and tourist traps, sure, but he could move through cities on top of roofs with his parkouring skills just fine.

Being invited like this—being trusted enough to tag along with Isaiah, Seline and Dylan—it was unbelievable. He was still getting over his excitement and disbelief.

Okay, not trusted exactly. Isaiah probably wanted him as backup. Extra eyes and muscle. Someone who could move fast, stay alert, cover for them if things went south. Maybe, maybe, Isaiah felt a little safer with Rip watching his back when he wasn't at a hundred percent.

That was fine. Rip could be useful. He wanted to be useful.

It had been a couple of weeks since Isaiah's hospital release and he had reassured them all he was ready—which they had believed, once Seline confirmed it.

Rip was glad just to be included. He would bring his best game. Be sharp, strong, effective. Maybe if he proved himself enough, Isaiah would trust him again on future trips. Even the ones involving wolves.

Especially the ones involving wolves.

The last half-year under Isaiah’s care—going with him to meets, not just lurking in the shadows—had been so different. Like someone had pulled a blindfold from his eyes.

He hadn’t even realized he had gotten used to living like that. Half-blind, half-feral.

Isaiah was helping him see it.

Rip had thought he didn’t miss wolves. Or company. But being seen—being able to walk through crowds without shrinking, to meet the eyes of those who would have spat on him before—it was different.

He had fought for survival, for his right to exist, wherever he went.

But now he could walk among wolves who once judged him an outcast and a waste of oxygen—and face them directly.

It made him feel dangerous. In a good way.

Not that he knew what Isaiah was really after. The guy moved like he was playing three games at once, seeing five different meanings where Rip barely caught one. Held ten agendas, eleven sets of cards.

Rip didn’t get it. But somehow, Isaiah always ended up helping people. Even the ones no one bothered with.

It was...something to see.

Isaiah wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t even easy to read most days. But what he was building—whatever this was—it felt solid. It felt good.

Rip wasn't supposed to think about that. As long as wasn't betraying strays and he wasn't hurting anyone who didn't piss him off nonetheless, he didn't give a shit about what he did. Feelings really had nothing to do with life.

This was new. Risky, even. He wasn’t sure what the hell was happening to him. But he knew this much: He wanted to stick around and see what Isaiah did next.

...shame he was stuck with Hector of all people in the train. They had their own compartment, so it was just Rip, Dylan and Hector. Even with the six seats, it felt way too crowded.

Rip offered to come on his own. He could hitchhike the trains just fine, thank you. But then Dylan said he would come with him and Isaiah shook his head in that exasperated way...but nobody wanted to make it difficult on Isaiah so early after his recovery and there was no way Rip could handle a flight.

So here they were. In the spirit of being helpful, Hector offered to take the train with them, sending his girlfriend ahead with Seline and Isaiah to fly for one hour, instead of riding the night train.

Rip honestly wondered how long this pretense would last. Someone with such a fiery temperament as Hector wouldn't take long.

On most days, Rip considered himself quite resistant to most things. But he didn't like loud, explosive people demanding attention and things to be their way with that implied or else.

Hector fit that to a T.

"I'm telling you, trains are the most comfortable rides," Dylan said, getting comfortable over two seats next to Rip. "Rode them for half of my life. You can move more than in a car or plane, you are way more steady, there are snack bars. What's not to like?"

Rip had to admire how unconcerned Dylan was. Crowds of people filling the train in the other compartments didn't seem to register to him at all. For all looks and purposes, he acted like a real human.

Dylan's shadow was so tightly suppressed that Rip could barely feel it. That had its own kind of limitations. Getting in touch with it would take a couple of days. But it was more than fitting for a two-week road trip through Italy.

Hector scoffed. "The best is obviously the car. You can control the ride, stop and go off some predetermined path. That's why we are getting a rental car, when we arrive and you two are both going to be okay with it."

Dylan rolled his eyes, which was precisely what Rip wanted to do. Someone should remind Hector that he wasn't in charge of them, like with every other wolf in his life.

Someone other than Rip, preferably.

Rip crossed his arms, like that would keep Hector out. He didn’t want to need him for anything. Mildly disappointed by not having Isaiah there was one thing, but he couldn't even talk with Dylan like he wanted to. Not with Hector staring at Rip the way like he wanted to have a fight Rip couldn't retaliate.

Urgh.

Dylan wasn't bothered. Got himself earphones and kept showing Rip some kind of game on his phone that made Rip's eyes hurt.

The stray wolf was content to get some sleep. If Isaiah was there, he would want to show off and be alert and helpful. But with Hector eager to be in charge and Dylan's shoulder against this, he didn't care.

Rip wasn't sure why he was feeling so sleepy. He kept yawning, although he could go less than 4 hours of sleep a day and be fine for a couple of weeks—something Isaiah wouldn't allow him, anyway.

It was unsettling, feeling this sleepy with Hector right there, glaring and scowling.

There was this pressure behind his eyes though. When the promised snack handling mini-bar came over, Dylan cheerfully took over their orders and got sparkling water, coffee, croissants...

Rip wanted to share into Dylan's enthusiasm, but the smell of the croissant and coffee repelled him. Settling on sipping the sparkling water, he couldn't understand the feeling of unease that was drying his throat.

The sparkling water wasn’t sitting right.

Half an hour later, his stomach sloshed with every lurch of the train, bloated and tight. The compartment felt smaller by the minute, buzzing like a tin can full of bees.

Rip shifted in his seat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Heat pulsed under his skin.

Tried to forget the noise, the motion, the way Hector’s scowl seemed to scrape against him even when he wasn’t looking. But the heaviness behind his eyes wouldn’t go away. And every breath tasted like iron and heat.

Rip leaned his elbow on the armrest, pressing his forehead into his palm.

The coolness helped, a little.

At least until the train jerked again and the nausea sloshed back, hotter and heavier.

He shifted, trying to breathe slower. Maybe if he focused on the window—on the blur of trees and concrete flashing past—it would ground him. He rested his forehead lightly against the glass.

The cold bit into his skin, but it wasn’t enough. The buzzing in his ears didn’t stop. Neither did the sickly heat pooling deep in his stomach, twisting like a rope pulled too tight.

He heard Dylan laughing beside him, tapping something on his phone, chatting about a game Rip wasn’t even registering anymore.

He didn’t have the air to answer anyway.

Rip closed his eyes, trying not to look obvious, trying not to draw attention.

Dylan didn’t notice. Hector sure as hell wouldn’t care.

The pressure behind his eyes had turned into a pounding throb now.

Each sway of the train sent another wave rolling through him—heat, cold, nausea, dizziness—until he didn’t know if he could stay upright.

He gritted his teeth. Counted down stops in his head.

Tried to convince himself it wasn’t that bad. He just needed to last a little longer.

He elbowed Dylan into the side. "H-hic-how much longer?"

Dylan blinked, pulling out one earbud. He checked the time on his phone. "Uh... two hours down, about five more to Bologna, if everything’s on time," he said easily. Then he turned properly toward Rip, frowning. "You good?"

Rip nodded, which was a mistake. The world tilted sideways for a second, the heat in his face flashing hotter, making his stomach clench. He jerked his head away, pressing it back against the cold glass like it could pin him there, hold him still.

"Yeah," Rip muttered hoarsely. "Fine."

Dylan didn’t look convinced.

"You’re pale, man. Like...ghost-level pale," he said, peering closer.

He lowered his voice. "You gonna be sick?"

Rip tightened his jaw. He hated the question. He hated the hiccup that slipped out again when he tried to answer.

"I’m good," he said through gritted teeth. Mostly because if he said anything else, he wasn’t sure he’d keep it together.

Dylan didn’t push, but Rip could feel his friend hovering now, his easygoing buzz replaced with a low, sharp awareness — the kind only wolves could slip into when something was wrong.

"Uhm," Dylan said, voice sarcastic now, "you say it, but you don't look it. Just lemme know if you need-"

Another hiccup cut him off, rough and wet in Rip’s throat. He hunched lower, elbow slipping off the armrest as he pressed his fists against his mouth.

The train rocked slightly, and Rip swallowed hard against the rising bile. The sparkling water sloshed miserably inside him, his stomach cramping up in waves.

"Obviously not fine," Hector said dryly. "Get him into a bathroom before he throws up all over the seats. The train's too full to find a new compartment of our own."

Somewhere beyond the pounding in his head, he registered Dylan getting to his feet, dragging him up by the arm.

Rip wanted to snap back, but the words wouldn't come. The train lurched and he lost his balance, stumbling sideways into the seat.

A strong hand caught his arm at the elbow.

Hector.

Rip flinched instinctively, but Hector just steadied him with a grim, impatient look. "Get a grip," Hector muttered under his breath.

Dylan was already at the door, sliding it open and peering out into the corridor. His eyes were blown wide and he was glancing at them and back, as if not sure what to do, how to best intervene. "Bathroom’s two cars down," Dylan announced. "Come on. You can make it."

Rip tried to push himself upright, but the movement made his vision gray out around the edges. He swayed—and Hector caught him again, this time gripping his shoulder with a steadier, almost awkward firmness.

"Move it," Hector said, quieter now. Not as angry, just brisk. Far cry from Isaiah's calm, gentle tone, though.

Rip swallowed down another hiccup, the taste of bile burning higher in his throat.

The train lurched, stronger and faster than he'd expected, throwing Rip sideways. His vision was all out of sorts, stomach in turmoil, insides practically wringing together.

Dylan was too many steps away, hurrying towards the bathroom and then jumping back for him.

"D-" Rip coughed, then gagged into his hand. Another violent lurch. He couldn't catch his balance at all, shoulder hitting the door of another compartment hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, sweaty bangs falling into his vision. "S-stop moving so fast- I can't-"

"Okay, okay," Dylan said, suddenly appearing by his side. He hooked his arm around Rip's, giving him something to latch onto. The walk was painfully slow, Dylan holding into the railing in the hall while Rip held onto his sleeve like a lifeline.

Rip retched into his hand, the sparkles climbing up his throat, but managed to swallow it back down. It made him stumble, legs all tangled up.

Dylan grunted with the effort of keeping them upright. "Almost there."

The bathroom door loomed ahead, just a few steps more, and Dylan kicked it open with his foot.

Rip basically fell inside against the small sink built into the wall and sank to his knees painfully. The moment he was sure they were inside, disgust shivered through him like lightning from the sheer crampiness. And his body gave out.

He lurched against the movement of the train, seeing stars as the water rocketed out of him. His stomach squeezed and he groaned as his breakfast made a reappearance into that dark grey toilet.

"Christ," Dylan cursed beside him, trying to fit his long limbs inside the bathroom. He had to keep it halfway open.

Rip was panting over the toilet, not feeling better at all. He burped up another mouthful of bread crust, wrapping an arm around his gurgling middle.

"You are okay, man. Did the sandwich from morning-"

Rip whimpered at the mention, pressing his forehead into his elbow. "D-don't talk about food..."

The toilet flushed above him. Shortly after, Dylan lowered himself next to Rip, rubbing between his shoulder blades. "What brought this on? We did the same thing all day...if you aren't allergic to Hector, that is. Totally fair."

That should have made him laugh, he knew, but all he managed was a hitch and a queasy hiccup. "I still feel so sick, D."

Dylan squeezed his shoulder, his hand warm. "Now that we are on it, do you like, get motion sick?"

"I didn't before..."

Dylan pressed the back of his hand to Rip's cheek from behind. "Well, you aren't feverish, so that's the only explanation I got for now."

"G-got something that would make it better?" Rip's stomach rolled along the train, a whole new wave of nausea crashing over him.

"Not here, I'm afraid. We can get you something for carsickness when we stop." Dylan sounded as mournful as Rip felt. "I'm sorry."

Rip just groaned, curling tighter against the cabinet. This was going to be a hellish ride.

[machveil]

You know the game, every even one

For 36) What is your favorite reptile?

all the evens for beloved pookie✨

2. When is your birthday? - February 23🎀✨

4. What is your favorite book? - Phantom Tales of the Night (2016-2019), I just need the last volume

6. 5 Male celebrity crushes? - I don’t think I have any celebrity crushes, but I can list actors and their roles I liked

Channing Tatum as Remy “Gambit” LeBeau, Lewis Pullman as Robert “Bob” Floyd, Andrew Garfield as Peter “Spider-Man” Parker, Dylan O'Brien as Joel, and Andrew Russell as Boothill’s VA

8. What is your dream job? - storyboard artist for animations

10. What is a fact about you that nobody would believe? - uuh, I don’t know, I think all my personal facts are pretty believable. maybe that I hoarded chip bags in my locker in high school? I’d give my combo to my friends so they could grab snacks between classes, they called my locker a free vending machine. probably 2ft worth of chip bags in there vertically at all times

12. Where is somewhere you'd like to visit? - top of the list is South Korea! I’m half Korean on my mom’s side. neither of us have been there and we’d like to go someday. otherwise, Canada is across the pond and I wouldn’t mind visiting (or moving there low-key at this point, like🫩)

14. What are your favorite apps besides tumblr? - Instagram and Pinterest, I like sending reels to my friends and looking at pretty pictures. I definitely use Instagram more since I have two accounts, but I think I enjoy Pinterest more because it’s just boards and pictures I like

16. What do you think makes you attractive? - I do genuinely like my laugh, but maybe my loyalty to my friends too? I mean, I think that’s attractive in other people, so going off that I could see that being a good quality in myself lol. I’m pretty ride-or-die with my friends, I have a close knit group and I like being there for them

18. What is something you're really bad at? - embarrassingly miserable at math. I usually carry a calculator on me even though my phone has one. numbers just don’t make sense to me, especially equations

20. What's a totally random and useless fact that you know? - Baby’s Breath (flower) is scientifically called Gypsophila paniculata

22. What is your most prized possession? - clumping all my sketchbooks together for one mega prized possession

24. When did you first feel like an adult? - starting college, realizing I had to choose classes on my own time was miserable. like, I knew going in, but then it hit me that I’m in charge of what I’m actually doing. also, maybe writing a witness statement after being in a car accident, that was pretty adult-feeling to me

26. How are you feeling right now? - a little sleepy and a touch too warm

28. Do you believe in love at first sight? - I believe in it for some people. I don’t believe in it for myself, I have to get to know someone really well to actually develop feelings. that said, for other people I’m sure it can happen. one of my grandpas literally saw my grandma across their quad and he had that moment. they’ve been happily married for years and I do believe they had a love at first sight moment. personally though, I’d need more lmao

30. What does self care look like for you? - other than spa day shenanigans, just enjoying not doing anything productive. I stress out over a lot of stuff and sometimes I just need a couple hours to do nothing of substance

32. What makes you nervous? - so much. phone calls? yikes, messaging friends and mutuals? oh my god, I don’t want to make a fool of myself. I also get nervous being alone sometimes and that’s not the best lmao

34. What will always make you cry? - Of Mice and Men (1937) and confrontation. Of Mice and Men had me sobbing in a bathroom because of Lennie. confrontation, even super minimal confrontation, just makes my eyes start to water, I don’t know why. I actually genuinely hate it because there’s usually no reason to tear up and then I feel like crap because I don’t want to make someone feel bad that my eyes are watering and I start to cry more because I feel guilty

36. (freebie) What is your favorite reptile? - my favourite reptile hands down is the basilisk lizard. as someone who can’t swim I respect them running on water. also, they’re cute, I love their frills. they were also from my favorite Wild Kratts episode so there’s some bias—

[catonator]

Marketers are Morons

E3 is dead, but suits still need to get their fix for both their crippling gambling addiction and their exhibitionist fetish somewhere, so you know what time it is! It’s… a random weekend in June.

That’s right, with no real reason or cohesion to onlookers, this just happens to be the exact moment when all the executives could no longer hold it in and had to bust all over Twitch, which is much easier nowadays thanks to the camwhore apocalypse. As such, we have a fuckton of new trailers and other assorted trailer-like homunculi to pour over as the good little consumer piggies we are.

But the past few years, the ads have seemed increasingly unlikely to stir any excitement. Trailers are more cookie-cutter than ever, and actual gameplay reveals are a disappearing art. And much like last time when I complained about gaming news, all the developers actually making the games are mysteriously absent. Yes, you read that right, this blog has continuity now! Look forward to the blogomatic universe announcement later this year.

Looking back at E3s of old, these new events are cheaper, more condensed, more accessible and entirely controlled by the corporations and not vulnerable to the oh-so-familiar gaffes of live shows. Yet they still happen just as rarely as E3. Somehow the genius executives at the top have decided that, you know, instead of letting people know what’s happening more often and spreading the games accordingly to give them all room to breathe, we stuff even more crap into a shorter timespan and as a result nobody even remembers what we saw two days later.

Confoundingly we’ve decided that now gameplay reveals are also trailers. Both Perfect Dark and That Indiana Jones Thing Because Disney Has To Stay Relevant™ had “gameplay reveals”, but both were some sort of amalgamation of gameplay clips strung together and overlaid with the same piano-inception horn trailer music trash every other trailer was full of. Why even bother? Just cut out the middleman and show us a CGI video clip at that point for all the difference that makes.

I’m honestly a little confused about what all the suits even do all day. They’re paid exorbitant sums of money and all they can come up with is the same shit all their friends and THEMSELVES have been doing for years. Does the marketing team also double as the company’s cocaine quality assurance wing? Presumably the business school all these clowns come from is equally tilted in their goals, since I’d imagine “don’t immediately shoot your product in the foot” and “don’t make your product look as undesirable as possible” would rank fairly high on a business 101 class’ Don’t-Fuck-It-up-o-meter. Alongside wisdom like “don’t burn all your money like Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight”.

I feel the early onset Old Man Syndrome setting in again. Last time it was gaming magazines/news, this time it’s gaming events. There’s another one about marketing and gameplay gifs on social media that I think I’ll save for later. It’s a little frustrating that consistently I hit the same issues with the consideration of “it worked so much better before, what the fuck happened?”

Many complain about E3 et al. being just loaded advertising breaks, but the truth is, even in a moneyless society marketing would still be needed to let people know your artwork exists. A marketing campaign doesn’t just exist to sell you on something monetarily, but also timewise. Even if a game was free, the time commitment still means that you’ll filter out a lot of art unless you know it’s worth your time.

It’s a little disappointing that a theoretically better and more accessible system still makes me miss the haphazard cringefest that was E3, but a well oiled marketing machine also completely lacks the humanity that this medium so sorely needs right now. So please, bring it back. E3 needs to exist for this industry’s long term survival.

And also the E3 bingo cards. Those are the most important bit.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

I think what doomed the MCU quality-wise was deciding to leave it open-ended and keep going. Continuity and characterizations don't stand a chance when there's no endgame in mind. Pun somewhat intended. Endgame wasn't a good movie but it took Phase 4 for a lot of people, myself included, to realize that. I think Endgame's legacy - and the MCU's for that matter - would be a lot more favorable if that movie HAD been the actual endgame.

That's an on-going point really against the current MCU: Endgame had been set up basically as the finale of Phases 1-3, meaning it feels like a perfect conclusion to everything that had been set up...but of course, cause the MCU refuses to end, even Endgame sets up stuff that we see in Phase 4, Loki being a obvious example, but instead of going back to his whole, "The sun will shine on us again." thing to Thor in Infinity War, we just...go into a Loki show in Phase 4 that in itself is just setting up Kang. And then you got the Gamora thing the movie set up that...doesn't even seem to be getting explored in the new Guardians movie as she's already with them again, as even Love And Thunder showed Thor leaving the guardians at least to do his own thing again.

And with the mention of Love And Thunder: 'Thor will return.'- again, they very confident that they'll give Thor another movie that they didn't even tell the director or Chris Hemsworth who as we know, has decided to take a break from acting due to wanting to spend time with his family after discovering he has two APOE4 Genes, making him ten times likely to develop Alzheimer's disease. Like I will point out: Disney couldn't predict this, but the fact remains that they refuse to just plan stuff out before going ahead, meaning they jumped instantly to 'Thor will return' in the same phase that already has various open endings to plots to come, with I think only WandaVision's open ending concluding....in the train wreck that was Multiverse Of Madness that in itself has ANOTHER open ending.

And yes, I know they claim to now have two plans, aka Multiverse stuff and Kang plans, but here's the thing: they entered Phase 4 by that logic with zero plans beyond doing random crap with open endings, because they couldn't just take a break to do planning so they set up random stuff we may either get or may not get. Like, if they really wanted to continue the MCU so badly after Endgame, they should have just rebooted at best or waited to do planning, as now we in a mess that's quality is showing as we see with the reactions to No Way Home, Multiverse Of Madness, Love And Thunder and now Ant Man And The Wasp: Quantumania (which is literally meant to start off the planned phase 5 too ironically).

[mxvladdy]

I can't stress enough 'wows' in tve way you write along with the fact that it's you first few posts (i think? Pls correct me) can you do luci mammon and satan with a reader who takes naps bc of overthinking? They just tug their sleeves and shot them a tired look, while looking down shying away. Also, have a nice day and take the time to be yourself!

Aw thanks fam! I am fairly new to posting my works, I tried twice before this with two different writing blogs but I deleted them both bc I felt discouraged. I’m older now and I feel a lot better about my writing, so third time the charm and all that lol! I’m so glad you like my writing! I know I need some work on grammar and expanding my vocabulary.  

This was a super cute prompt ;.; I hope I did it justice!

Lucifer

He is a mix of jealous and pissed. He wishes he could fall asleep so easily when he gets inundated with too many things at once. But also- just don’t do that? Where were your manners?

He starts noticing your little peculiarity in class. Specifically that you tend to nod off in advance alchemy and rune scripting. You were being so studious, jotting down notes, ask great questions. Next thing he knows you're out like a light.

He is shocked for a moment before he will wake you up. Your wide doe-eyed frown does nothing to him. JK his hearts clench at your wounded look.

He makes the other brothers report to him about your behavior and odd sleep habit. Were you ill? Was this just something humans did? Devils, was Belphie rubbing off on you?

They all say the same thing. One moment you are working hard or talking to them about a topic you are passionate about, and the next you are yawning hard enough to pop your jaw and shyly asking to lay down.

Well-he can’t have that.

If you are going to fall asleep around anyone it’s going to be him.

He sets up remedial lessons with you after dinner to make up for the work slept through. You sit by him at his long ornate desk while he tutors you on what you missed.

You weren't having any problems,  you even finished a few pages. He is proud and then-

“I can almost hear those gears slowing my dear.” Lucifer interrupts himself mid-explanation of Zosimos of Panopolis and Maria the Prophetess's theories of alchemy in human medicine.

You jerk awake and turn to him blinking owlishly. "Yeah, I just need to lay down." You admit.

Lucifer eyes you critically. This was sudden, were you ill? You had been fine moments ago, bright-eyed and enthusiastic. He cups your face, turning it from side to side. "So suddenly? We haven't even discussed the properties of mercury yet." You hum letting your eyes droop. He was always so warm.

"Hour nap break? Please?" His stern gaze softens at how your nose scrunches up cutely as you yawn.

“Very well.” He relents letting you slick over to his couch. You flop over face first with a grunt of satisfaction. You toss and turn for a while, moving his pillows around unsatisfied.

“Luci-” You call in defeat. He ignores you at first. If you wanted to nap fine, he would get some work done in the meantime. “Luci~” You say again. You could see his brow twitching. “Lu-”

“My dear,” He shoots you a withering look. “You are treading a thin line. If you have the energy to call for me you have the energy to study.” You say nothing at his brisk tone, instead of opening your arms to him to join you. “You tempt me.” He purrs hiding his smile behind his paperwork.

“Learned from the best.” Lucifer shakes his head laughing at your smug reply. He glances over you to his grandfather clock. Hmmm-perhaps he could spare a few minutes. He rises elegantly discarding his tie and waistcoat to his abandoned chair. Running a hand through his hair he snorts at your little whistle.

“Move.” He commands. You shake your head patting your belly. “I will crush you.” He laughs but lays over you regardless.

“Good-you’re warm.” You say muffled in his shirt. Wrapping your arms around his middle you drift off. Lucifer holds you close, running a still gloved hand up and down your side. Perhaps he should bring out some more complex topics next time. If this was the outcome-

Mammon

He noticed you get drowsy before in class. Your cute little head jerks as you nod off, hands rubbing at your face as you fight to stay awake before giving in to the need to sleep. It was adorable- not that he was watching you because of that! He was just doing his job of looking out for you

Ye-that was all.

Honestly, he thought you were just like him. He never cared for the books being forced on him in class. Boring useless crap in his opinion. He much rather sleep through a lecture on stats too.

Now books on photography? That's where it's at. He has a legitimate passion for it.

He likes being behind the camera just as much as he likes being in front of it. Though he doesn't snap photos often.

He doesn't need more beratement from his brothers than he already gets. Sides, he just feels like they would look down at this like everything else he does.

He'll share his hobby with you though. You at least seem interested in it. He'll show you his collection of vintage to high-tech cameras and talk your ear off about the makes, models, and features.

You nod along and ask questions from time to time, smiling along with Mammon while he prattles on about color theory next to you on the floor.

He was just getting to Auguste Lumiére when he feels a gentle bump on his shoulder.

"O-oi!" Mammon starts, shaking his shoulder to rouse you. You look up at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes. "Was...was I that boring?" He deflates a little, all previous excitement gone in a flash. You had seemed so interested...

"What? Oh, no. No Mammon I'm sorry. It's really all fascinating," You grab for his sleeve so he couldn't run away. "It was just a lot of information all at once. I just got a bit overwhelmed."

"So you fall asleep?" He raises a brow not believing you for a second. Who falls asleep when something is interesting? He'll admit he's fallen asleep while listening to Levi talk about a new anime or Asmo with a make-up release.  But that's because it had been boring. "Is that like a human thing?"

You shrug snuggling closer. "I don't know- but it's a me thing. Give me five? I'd love to hear you talk more about your collection, promise."

Mammon glows scarlet at your words. "Of course you do!" He puffs out his chest excitedly. “I got great taste.” You nod into his shirt before drifting off again. He tilts his head slightly to look at you chuckling internally when your breathing and heartbeat slow down. Damn, out in seconds. Well, better get comfortable.

Uncrossing his long legs he picks up the camera he had been showing you. The old Polaroid lens reflects his face back at him. He remembered the day Land had debuted this marvel of engineering. He just had had to get his hands on one. It was useless now, he had much better quality cameras than this old thing, but he remembered you reminiscing about your human friends and their portable camera. Would you take some pictures with him too? He would take one now, but the sound of the flash would definitely wake you up.

He fiddles with it for a few more minutes, opening and closing the film canister and checking for any parts that needed fixing as he waits. You stir at his side a few minutes later with a little mew of satisfaction. Mammon hears your joints creak and pop as you stretch. "Morning." He says sarcastically, earning himself a light punch to his shoulder. "Ready to continue?"

You nod eagerly, perky and aware. At least for the moment.

Satan

He didn't really notice at first the pattern of your behavior.

You would come over for book club. Which was really just him reading his current novel and you picking something at random to gain a little random knowledge.

You would find a comfortable position on his bed, curl up nice and small and read. Then after a bit yawn and start to snooze.

He first thought it was the atmosphere of his room. It was quiet, warm, and the sound of flickering candles and the rustle of paper sometimes caused him to doze too.

But when it starts happening outside of class he notices.

Hmmm….this is new.

He looks it up in his human anatomy books and finds nothing.

He's not particularly worried about you per se. You always bounce back quickly after a quick snooze.

Then you start dozing when he is talking… >:(

Like his brother/dad he is a little miffed at first but then your behavior reminds him a cat and he loves you 10x harder now

Satan stops in his pacing of the back gardens. His book of poetry hanging limply in his hand. He had been reciting some of the most fascinating lines of work from Lord Byron's later works and wanted a human's perspective. He had thought you were interested. You never complained before when he asked you out here. Perhaps you were just being polite all those times before. Anything to soothe wrath. He snaps his book shut sharply, take some perverse satisfaction in the way you start out of your light sleep at the noise.

"Why'd you stop?" You ask wiping at your face.

"No point talking to someone that doesn't wish to listen." He snaps tersely.

"Oh-Satan, no I was listening. It...it just got to be so much so fast." You flush. “You had some great points going, I just needed a minute.” He watches your eyes grow heavy again, and it dawns on him.

"Do you just sleep when overwhelmed?" He asks incredulously. In all his years with humans, this was new. You shrug making grabby hands for him to move closer. He scoffs but moves into your space. You grab at the hem of his shirt and pull him down to sit next to you. He goes willingly getting comfortable by your side. You eye his lap longingly, hands clutching around his coat sleeve. “Fine-” He rolls his eyes. “Come here you odd thing.” You smile in triumph and crawl into his lap. Once settled you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“Wake me up in ten? I want to hear more about your conversations with Byron.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He kisses the top of your forehead, opening his book to read again with one hand. You hum at his soft kiss, returning it sleepily with one of your own before passing out again. Ten minutes go by in an instant and Satan looks down at your peaceful face. He smiles to himself, perhaps he’ll let you sleep for a little while longer. You’d need it for his next point.  

[sparring-hyena]

love language.

you know what time it is, folks: i ramble about random things for a few hundred words :)

OR, Poppy’s journey to realising she’s in love, and all the ways she says “i love you,” without actually saying it until she finally does.

-

i. giving gifts.

this starts off as an accident.

she’s out walking around the city when she finds herself in a store packed tight with random knick-knacks. and that’s when she finds a ceramic cactus sitting between a dusty old lamp and rubber band ball.

she’s not sure why she decides to buy the cactus. or why she thinks it would look nice on AJ’s desk beside her stack of textbooks. but it’s not like she’s actually going to give it to her. that would be ridiculous.

so she takes the ceramic cactus home. tries to find a place for it in her room, but it never looks right. because when she looks at it, all she can think of is AJ and that it should be in her room instead.

and maybe she accidentally gives the ceramic cactus to AJ the next time she sees her. but it’s nothing, okay?

ii. acts of service.

this one is strange, she thinks. strange because there really isn’t any reason that they would do things for each other. that they would go out of their way to do things for each other. and yet...

“you really didn’t have to bring me soup, y’know?” AJ says.

“you’re sick. obviously i’m going to bring you soup.”

“i wouldn’t want you catching whatever i’ve got, is all.”

“i don’t get sick.”

“i’m touched that you’re using your superpower to help me then.”

Poppy rolls her eyes at the comment, but does little to suppress her smile.

“but if you do get sick, i promise that i’ll bring you soup too.”

“you’d better. now shut up and eat your soup.”

Poppy does get sick a week later. but true to her word, AJ brings soup and medicine and sleeps over every night until she’s better.

iii. quality time.

they aren’t dating. if they were dating there’d be grand romantic gestures. probably fancy dinners and quiet mornings in. what they’re doing is decidedly not that.

see, currently they’re sitting on the kitchen floor eating dry cereal straight from the box because... actually, Poppy doesn’t know why they are. she’d just come over and found AJ already on the floor with a box of cereal.

and it’s not like she came over because she wanted to. AJ had texted. had asked if she would. and obviously she did and now she’s not so sure if that actually helps prove her point of not.

but whatever, that’s not the point. the point, she guesses, is that they’re sitting on the floor eating dry cereal. and it’s not like she’s actually enjoying it anyway. she’s definitely not enjoying the way their sides are flush together. and she’s absolutely not enjoying the way AJ’s drawing random things on her leg that she’ll just have to wash off later. and—

“thank you for coming over tonight,” AJ says, eyes focused on drawing.

“of course,” Poppy says, her voice quiet like a promise, because of course she’s going to come if AJ asks her to.

she presses a kiss to AJ’s shoulder. and AJ smiles quietly to herself as she finishes her drawing.

and okay, maybe they are dating.

iv. physical touch.

so they’re dating. so what? no big deal. it’s not like it’s— no, Poppy’s not even going to think the word. why bother thinking it when it’s not what they are?

“you alright?” it’s AJ’s gentle voice that brings Poppy out of her thoughts.

“hmm?”

“you okay? you seem spacey.” and then AJ reaches across table to place her hand on top of Poppy’s.

and the touch sends some kind of spark zapping through Poppy. not like static electricity though. because she doesn’t at all want to pull away.

“yeah, just tired.”

“sorry for dragging you out then. i know it’s late.”

“it’s fine. i like spending time with you.” and that... she hadn’t mean to say that. the admission had just sort of slipped through her lips. and now she holds her breath in her throat, because AJ is bound to make a comment about that. and then they’ll both laugh and pretend it means nothing, even though it means everything. but no comment comes.

AJ just smiles and says, “me too,” and then goes back to reading the menu in front of her. but she doesn’t pull her hand away. in fact, she links their fingers together on top of the table and then gives Poppy’s hand a little squeeze. almost like she knows Poppy is looking.

the gesture fills Poppy with something warm and makes her wonder maybe it is—

then her heart thumps in her chest and her stomach leaps and flips because this is new, this is exciting. it sends little jolts out to her fingers and toes. makes her smile secretly to herself as she dips her head to look at the menu that she’s not at all focusing on because her hand is still in mine and now she’s rubbing her thumb in circles and— oh.

oh.

crap. maybe it is love.

v. words of affirmation.

it takes a while to get here. there are bumps along the way—secrets and fights and misunderstandings. but they work through it all. learn to communicate and kiss it all better.

so when they’re alone in AJ’s room one night. showered and dressed in warm and soft clothes to ward of the chill that set in weeks ago. Poppy looks up from her phone and finds AJ finishing an essay at her desk.

she breathes, “i love you,” almost like a sigh of relief.

“what was that, babe?” AJ looks away from her laptop, face scrunched up in adorable confusion.

Poppy smiles and slips out of AJ’s bed and goes to straddle her in the desk chair. the position’s a little awkward and uncomfortable, but AJ holds on tight to Poppy and makes sure she won’t fall.

AJ smiles up at Poppy with that dopey grin that’s so earnest and open and carries no expectations.

“i love you,” she says again, whispered like a promise into the small space between them.

AJ beams that megawatt smile, and Poppy can’t help but feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

“what a coincidence, because i love you too.”

then their lips meet in a gentle and brief kiss, and when they pull apart, Poppy rests her forehead against AJ’s with a smile on her face because suddenly everything makes so much more sense.

[cupidcreates]

Hi, I hope the last day of 2020 will be a success for you. I have a request for yandere Dabi and / or Chisaki when they hear that their dear, affectionate s/o call them "love" or "happiness of my life"

Affectionate Names

With Yanderes Dabi and Overhaul

(Oh my fucking GOD beech I’m SO SORRY this took LITERAL MONTHS to post. I promise I’m never gonna let an ask sit for that long again holy crap. I really hope this was worth the wait bestie, I tried really hard to make it cute for you nonny. Hope you like it!)

Touya Todoroki - Dabi

Disgust, Anger, Hatred, Fear, Dabi’s used to these emotions playing across the faces of the people he interacts with. He knows how he appears to others, how his very visage causes visceral reactions of discomfort in others. He’s fine with that, in fact he revels in it.

If it’s not the abject loathing of a stranger than it’s the cool detachment of his allies. Dabi finds a sort of warmth, even an odd sense of comfort in their gazes. It’s distant, reserved, and to the point; Dabi never has to question what his allies want from him or what their intentions are.

The indifference many find cold is rather temperate to Dabi. 

The fair weather is what he likes. Nothing too cold, nothing too hot, nothing can be resurrected from mild memories.

Dabi was content with this treatment.

Until he met you.

It had been a long time since anything stoked the kind of fire in his chest like you did. Heat typically coincided with anger, but you didn’t make him angry.

That’s not to say he didn’t mistake it for anger at first. He definitely wanted you dead, seemingly at random, for a few days after seeing you pass by him on the street.

But after a while of reflection he realized you didn’t ignite his hate the way thoughts of his family, his father, or society did.

No, this was a completely different feeling, something brand new.

Something to be explored, immediately.

There was something about you he needed, something you had that he had to get for himself.

And Dabi’s not one to not get his way.

He set out to have you, and have you he did. It took longer than he might have liked (though, anything but immediate compliance is too long for Dabi) and you put up a better fight than he would have expected but he did eventually get you swept away from your previous life.

In his mind he won you over.

In your mind, and in reality, he stole you away from your home in the dead of night and trapped you in an undisclosed location until you eventually broke and developed Stockholm syndrome.

After all, he wasn’t mean to you. He kept you fed and watered, the basement stayed a nice mild temperature, and the rats that scuttled about were actually kind of cute when you looked at them the right way.

You were eventually happy, which is what Dabi wanted as it finally allowed him to get close to you.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted from you. He’d started by simply sitting by your side (once you had calmed down enough to let him do so without screaming) then he progressed to holding you (awkward as it was at first) and once he could trust that you wouldn’t run off he allowed you free roam of the hideout.

Free roam as in you were attached to his hip.

He brought you nearly everywhere, as if he was a child and you were his favorite stuffed bear. He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed you around, but he figured he’d find out if he gave it enough time.

And it’s not like you were trouble, you were actually very helpful, getting him out of more than a few scrapes and sticky situations.

He eventually surmised that this, whatever you two had going on, was something like the affection he missed out on in his youth. It was nice to hold your hand, nice to sit you in his lap as he listened to Shigaraki drone on about his next plan, nice to spend a night with you on the rooftops. 

The time he spent with you didn’t strike a chord in him like his first encounter with you did, but he was content.

He could only ever be content.

He didn’t need anything stronger than baseline serenity.

Or so he thought.

He thought right up until the night he was sitting alone in his room (room being a generous term for the hovel hole in the wall he kept his nearly flattened mattress in) dissociating after a very long day.

Dabi tried not to dissociate frequently, it was best to stay aware of your surroundings when you’re a wanted criminal, but when he did allow himself to fall into this state he was typically here for hours. Nearly comatose as he fled back into his mind.

You knocking softly at the door went completely unnoticed, in fact he didn’t even realize you were there until you had entered the room and sat next to him on the mattress.

Your presence took him completely by surprise and shocked him out of his stupor. It took him a moment to recover his composure and re-mask, and in those several seconds with his guard down you saw Dabi’s face more youthful and innocent than you ever had.

You’d asked him a question, he was aware of that much, but the only thing he caught, the only thing he registered was the word at the very end of your sentence.

“Are you okay, love?”

Love

Rather forcefully Dabi was taken back to his childhood; before his quirk manifested, before his siblings were born to replace him, before his own family turned on him in favor of his youngest brother. It had been so long since someone had called him love; so long since his mother would come into his room early in the morning and brush his bangs out of his face, softly calling to him to wake him up and ready him for the day.

Having already been in a vulnerable state, the name cut through him like a knife. Shaken to his core by the memories ripped fresh in his mind he was, for the first time in his life, grateful that his tear ducts had been burned away so long ago.

He gave nothing away, his face already masked up again and his demeanor its typical cool indifference. He spoke to you as he always had, the tremble in his voice only perceptible to him.

He pushed his head into your shoulder and was silent for a while, just taking in you presence, before offhandedly telling you that he didn’t mind if you called him that again. In private of course.

Love

He thought he could get used to that.

Kai Chisaki - Overhaul

Open affection was not only not necessary in Chisaki’s life but also abjectly disgusting.

Perhaps he never really had good examples of tender kindness and open endearment as a child. Maybe he simply couldn’t comprehend affection in the way others could.

In any case, physical fondness and other such displays of the sentiment were completely foreign to Chisaki.

He didn’t mind this, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Having a partner of any sort other than business would only slow him down.

Oh but you just had to come along, didn’t you? Had to go nosing around where you didn’t belong, a foolish venture already, and then you had to be incompetent's enough to get yourself caught waist deep in his business.

It didn’t matter, you didn’t matter, whatever you knew about what he was doing didn’t mean a damn thing. All he had to do now was keep you quiet.

For good.

He had to kill you, this much he knew. He’d have no issue doing it, after all who were you anyway? A nosy little cashier at a run-down shop on the brink of bankruptcy. You had no family, if you did they certainly didn’t care about you if the state of and neighborhood your apartment was located in was anything to go by.

You were a threat to the sanctity of his mission, a potential interference to his operation. Simply put you had to go. This was fine, nothing personal. Just business.

But oh you just had to didn’t you? Had to look at him with the most pathetically pleading eyes he’s ever seen as you begged him to let you live. You already knew what he was up to, undoubtedly you understood the torture and death he willingly inflicted upon others. You knew the pleading would do you no good, surely you knew your death was inevitable.

Except that it wasn’t, was it.

Because you had to, you had to come along with a face too sweet to be atomized. Had to, somehow, worm your way into his brain and stop him from dismantling your upper body.

Was this your quirk? Were you somehow influencing him? It had to be something of your doing, the tightness in his chest and warmth in his stomach was something of your doing.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to destroy something so precious, so pure even. He just couldn’t do it.

But no obstacle comes without workarounds, and he didn’t have an underground labyrinth of empty rooms to not be used.

So if killing you was out of the picture, his only recourse was to keep you hidden away. At least long enough for him to figure out a permanent solution for you.

Living toys are so much more fun to play with anyway.

He kept you holed up in a secret room, watched your every move as months passed. You were very interesting to him, in fact he found almost all of his (precious little) spare time consumed by you. He made sure to visit you daily, though your fear kept you mostly mute at the beginning.

Once you were sure he wasn’t going to obliterate you, he noticed you relaxed and even opened up a little bit. You even allowed him to touch you gently a few times and, to his surprise, he never broke out after his skin made contact with yours.

He figured you must have been sent to him, by some divine or cosmic intervention. You grew on him quickly and he made sure to pamper you in any way he could, moving you to a larger, more luxurious wing of the lair and making sure you had three meals a day of only the best quality food.

One morning he’d decided to visit you earlier than usual, walking down the long hallway towards your room and considering the topic of conversation today.

As he neared your room he overheard you speaking with the associate assigned to your meal delivery today. Pausing just outside the door he caught the tail end of your conversation.

“...so lonely until Chisaki visits. The room is lovely but he’s truly the only happiness of my rather dull life.”

Chisaki considered this for a moment. Perhaps it was a clever deception? Something for him to intentionally overhear and cause him to lower his guard?

Couldn’t be though, he’d never visited you this early, if you wanted to deceive him you’d have waited until your evening meal to speak these words.

A sudden, rather disconcerting warmth overtook Chisaki; Like a flower of light suddenly blooming in his chest he was overtaken by the urge to abandon everything and stay by your side until he withered away and his bones turned to dust.

Regaining his sanity he shook the thought from his head. He’d worked too hard for too long to let go of this now. No, he’d have to continue with his operation, the consequences of letting go now would be too great.

He was, however, sorry to hear that your life thus far had been dull. Had you said this months ago he would have scoffed, because of course the life of a cashier was dull; but now, after months of you having been here, it should have improved.

The only assumption left for him to make was that this must have been his doing. Fair enough on his part, as he couldn’t be sure trusting you was a wise idea.

But if this was how you truly felt about him, maybe he could consider letting you have greater roam of the property. He might even allow you time outside.

Only if you brought your happiness along, of course.

[yamayuandadu]

Wikipedia troubles, or “Father Enlil, (...) don't let your precious metal be alloyed there with the dirt of the underworld“

clarification regarding my post about troubles with a certain site i’ve been contributing to a lot for the past few months. To preface this with a mythical metaphor: in Inanna’s Descent, when Ninshubur pleads with the other gods to save Inanna, she uses the formula “don't let anyone kill your daughter in the underworld. Don't let your precious metal be alloyed there with the dirt of the underworld. Don't let your precious lapis lazuli be split there with the mason's stone. Don't let your boxwood be chopped up there with the carpenter's wood.” Currently this is what is happening to the Inanna article, I am afraid.

So, long story short, as most of you probably have noticed I am contributing relatively often to wikipedia as of late, starting with the creation of a Matara-jin article a few months ago. Among other things I wrote, rewrote or at least significantly improved the following:

articles about Mesopotamian medicine goddesses:

Ninkarrak from the western frontier, Nintinugga, who was associated with funerary offerings, Ninisina, who took over Inanna's gimmick in Isin, Bau, who became a healing goddess by chance, Gula, who eclipsed her peers - as expected from someone named “the great” articles about Inanna's courtiers and associated goddesses:

Ninshubur, her sidekick (my best work overall imo, the one article I wrote which I think fully deserves the “good” badge but I am not vain enough to apply myself), Ninegal, a goddess turned into her title, Nanaya, just the horny part distilled (bought a book just for this one!), Irnina, inexplicably cthtonic personified victory

articles about Mesopotamian gods too insignificant for anyone else to care about them:

Tishpak, a god so foreign nobody knows where he came from, Sebitti, seven warlike brothers, Enmesharra, Enlil's evil uncle, Urash, not the earth goddess – there are two... Urashes, Ningishzida, Dumuzi but with a snake gimmick, Zababa, a war god who's NOT Nergal, Ninimma, Enlil's court scribe, Gatumdag, popular as ersatz mom among kings of Lagash, Manzat, the rainbow

articles about Mesopotamian goddesses whose main trait was being someone's wife: Marduk's wife Sarpanit, Adad's wife Shala, Shamash's wife Aya

articles about Hurrian gods: Alalu, primordial vanquished king of gods, Kumarbi, his son, divine Saturday morning cartoon villain, Ninatta and Kulitta, a pair of divine musicians who always appeared together, Allani, oddly joyful queen of the dead, Šauška, who was so firmly genderfluid there's two of them in the most famous image of the Hurrian pantheon, Lelluri, a mountain goddess, Kubaba, who isn't Cybele, Goddess of the Night, who has no proper name despite being a case study in important religious rituals, Belet Nagar, who was like Ashur before Ashur got popular, Nupatik, who was important but we don't know why

articles about Eblaite gods: Ishara, “independent lady of love associated with scorpion and cannabis” popular everywhere where she went, Aštabi, a war god who really wanted to be like the weather god, Hadabal, who used to be famous but vanished out of blue, Kura, whose mask had to be renewed each year, Adamma, who left her husband to hang out with Kubaba

articles about Elamite gods: Pinikir, sort of like a bootleg Ishtar and an international sensation, Jabru, who exists only in Mesopotamian texts about Elam, Humban, mandate of heaven personified, Ruhurater, oddly obscure creator of mankind, Inshushinak, the underworld judge and his Akkadian helpers Lagamar and Ishmekarab, and Simut, the “strange star”

articles which were borderline unusable before due to low quality of sources:

Astarte, who was much more than vintage Bible scholars might lead you to believe (but not a fertility goddess), Dagan, who wasn't a fishman, Qetesh whose existence proves that Egyptians were fond of making ocs for their favorite foreign franchises

assorted articles about general topics pertaining to Mesopotamia:

Sukkal,  Hurrian religion (ongoing project), List of Elamite gods; also a much needed overhaul of List of Mesopotamian deities (ongoing project)

and, last but not least, a solid chunk of the Inanna article.

Two guiding principles of these ventures were the following:

people who cannot access academic resources or don't know how to use them and as a result rely on wikipedia aren't any less deserving of receiving up to date, credible information

Wikipedia's mode of operation isn't flawed in itself and the only problem is lack of will to edit it

I think I did a pretty good job at these two things, honestly. I made sure to rely on rigorous, credible, and, if possible, easy to understand sources, and removed the horrors which sometimes were hidden in bibliographies: a book written by a hate preacher who believed Bush didn't start enough wars; 1930s race science; what I can only describe as a hybrid of Woman's Encyclopedia and a bdsm manual; a fringe book asserting that Minoan palaces were graveyards and that Egyptians only learned mummification from superior Minoans; etc. Of course, it’s a thankless job, but as long as I could make the site more credible undisturbed, that’s fine by me. I even got some help in a few cases, most notably that of the god list, indicating that the work was on some level appreciated. The only problem I've encountered prior to today came from editing the Ereshkigal article – I've removed the claim the Burney relief depicts “Lilith”; this edit was however undone. I left a message on the editor's page, complete with links to articles about the Burney relief AND about the possible Mesopotamian forerunners of Lilith (who are undeniably not depicted on the Burney relief). They're responded rather dismissively to it, and asserted that even if unproven, a connection existed, so I pretty quickly gave up, as they relied on sources which were outdated or fringe. I focused on fixing two long, important articles instead: the god list, and the Inanna article. Some parts of it were alright, but there was much work needed: fringe theories trying to assign greater antiquity to relatively late myths, and frankly insane hyperdiffusionism, had a prominent place in the article, while well attested association between Inanna and similar deities from cultures closely associated with Mesopotamia wasn't, much of the info was outdated, scandalous hot takes about Dumuzi's treatment were all over the place, the section on Inanna's descent favored Jungian confabulations over credible research, etc. My progress on fixing that had been slow and steady. However, today the aforementioned person intervened when, in between editing the Inanna article and the god list, I reverted a dumb, brief , unsourced edit – made by a third party - which asserted that Inanna's descent is “similar to Persephone” which it isn't – if anything is similar to Persephone in Mesopotamian mythology it's Nergal and Ereshkigal. They pretty clearly didn't take it well: not only the unfounded speculation went back up, but they also added a “source” affirming it, from a controversial -medical- author, not an Assyriologist. They also added Persephone to the list of Inanna equivalents in the infobox, removing any credibility whatsoever from it. The author of the claim this is all about relied on sources so antiquated that they interpreted Inanna's sexual character as her being a child-snatching boogeyman. Inanna's primary connection to boogeymen is that she was invoked, alongside Nanaya whose sexual connection is even more blatant, to -ward off- child-snatching boogeyman Lamashtu (whose character was not sexual, because sumerians and akkadians weren't victorian aristrocrats and weren't paranoically afraid of sex - and why would a demon representing death in infancy be sexual in nature, anyway?). Simply put, the book in mention is worthless as a source. Of course, I reverted that; when it went back up (despite a justification being included in my reversal) I edited the Inanna article to remove this outlandish claim (you have a limited number of possible reversions per day for some arcane reason), also adding other information about Inanna I had prepared: a few tidbits on Assyrian royal inscriptions which involved the warlike and erotic aspects at once, suggesting that transgressors should lose both potency and bravery in battle, some info on love poetry about her and Dumuzi, that sort of stuff. The weird person reverted my edit – removing valuable info – and reinstated the claim. For a moment I lost my cool and reverted this edit, which sadly put me in the reversion overuse danger zone, but which was a necessary sacrifice to save the credibility of article I put weeks of work into. See the edit history here. As you can guess HaniwaEnthusiast is me. I left messages critical of this decision on the talk page of the article and on the talk page of the outlandish editor. Sadly, they responded rather rudely, and basically declared Wikipedia isn't meant to be credible, and that favoring academic sources over random crap is an “ivory tower” approach and should be discouraged; they also insulted me but that's much less relevant and much less hurtful than their desire to spread lies. If you ask me it's more of an ivory tower attitude to say people who cannot access or don't know how to use academic sources do not deserve equally credible info and need to be at the mercy of weird wikipedia editors. What's the main problem here, though? That person is a mod. Not a random user. They have 16 years of Wikipedia experience. They spread fringe, pop-spiritual claims about Lilith and the like, so I assume they have an ulterior religious agenda of some sort, which they seem to actively encourage judging from these ventures. I'm not sure if the Inanna article is a lost cause yet but I do think the weird addition of Persephone they made is a step into some hellish direction, and I am entirely certain I cannot win this conflict. Simply put, I think that if this is the sort of staff the site has, this is a lost cause. I am not sure if I will go back to editing.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villainsicle | Part 10

Okay so I know I said I was going to write backstory. But hear me out. I forgot.

On this episode: Will Medic ever make a good choice. Will Villain ever get comfort? Like, ever? Probably not!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby​

@teachunks

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, conditioned whumpee, drugging, dehumanization, restraints, muzzles, choke chains, collars, pet whump (kinda), conditioning, forced sedation, just an absolutely unhealthy amount of caffeine

Medic watched as Villain calmed.

They sat on a chair, a simple plastic one, near their patient’s bedside as the various scattered monitors reported on the situation. On the left, the heart rate monitor diligently beeped as a nervous, rapid heartbeat turned to one far more steady. On the other side of the room, the breathing monitor reported much of the same-- shallow breaths grew deeper, slower.

The doctor kept their gaze fixed on those displays until their readings were to their liking. Until they were certain that their patient was asleep.

They glanced over to the bed, in the center of the room. Its occupant’s skin was nearly pale enough to blend in with the white sheets on which they lay. Ever so slightly, they twitched in their sleep, struggling unconsciously against the padded restraints securing their wrists to the bed frame. Such a measure was likely unnecessary, but it meant that Medic had one less concern. Their already-weakened patient wouldn’t be going anywhere, not anytime soon.

With a sigh, they braced their hands against their thighs and stood.

They hadn’t been especially concerned about Villain’s escape in the first place. The captive had learnt their lesson from their earlier escape attempts, certainly, and their weakened, nervous state didn’t hurt. Besides, the base was built as a maze. Any escape attempt wouldn’t go very far.

This wasn’t about that, though.

Medic took one last glance at the monitors before pushing open the steel door to the room, not so much as bothering to lock it. It was late--far past midnight, at this point. Far past the hour at which the others retired to their quarters. The only other waking souls in the building would be the few scattered guards, and perhaps Leader, pacing in their office.

That wouldn’t be a problem, though.

Ensuring that their footsteps stayed quiet, Medic moved through the labyrinthine halls. They passed their quarters, and Leader’s office, moving further and further into the base’s core. They did not stop until turning down a barren hallway, at which point they at last halted, before a door marked with little more than a simple plate.

“Lab,” it was labelled.

It had been too long since they’d been able to visit. In the early days of the resistance, it was where they had spent nearly every last second of their time. Now, there were far too many injuries to treat. Far too many reports to make. They hardly had time to sleep, much less time to return to their old stomping ground.

Medic slid a key into the lock, and entered.

The room was barren. Other than the thin layer of dust that seemed to coat every surface, it was immaculately clean. Every last device had been put away, secured in the various meticulously labelled cupboards. The only object remaining on the tables was a computer-- a simple laptop.

The only thing Medic had taken with them.

They sat at a chair before the computer, prying it open. Some of the dust had even managed to sip in beneath the device’s lid, coating the screen and keyboard. A quick swipe of the hand sent it, flying off into the air.

The laptop groaned for a moment, fighting to start up. When, at last, it did so, a familiar screensaver illuminated Medic’s face.

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.”

It was almost nostalgic.

They entered their password, smiling as the desktop appeared before them, scattered with folders and files and memos. Selecting the right one was almost muscle memory.

Again, the computer whirred, struggling to remember the contents of the old file. After a few seconds of waiting, at last, the video sprung onto the screen.

Medic had no concern about Villain’s escape. No, they knew such a thing was impossible. This was why they had waited for them to fall asleep. So they wouldn’t see this.

It was going to be a long night, they knew that. The black coffee they had drank would ensure Medic would be awake for all of it-- the Secobarbital they had mixed in Villain’s food would ensure the exact opposite.

The video was old, its file having been passed between far too many computers and flashdrives. The quality was starting to fray around the edges.

Medic couldn’t care less.

They pressed play, and after a moment of digital whining, the first video began.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Counselor looked up as, with a thud, a cup was placed on the table in front of them. The smell of coffee overwhelmed their senses a moment later.

“It’s decaf.” Hero’s voice came. “You look like you could use the sleep.”

“Thank you.” Counselor smiled, picking up the still-scorching coffee and taking a sip, even as it threatened to burn their tongue. It was black, without a hint of sugar or milk-- not the way they usually took it, but right now, they could hardly care less.

Hero sat down across the table from them, a can of Sprite in hand, in place of his own coffee. Sweat glued their bangs to their forehead.

“You okay?” They raised a brow at Counselor.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” They tried at another smile, though this one came off far weaker. “Where have you been? I’ve hardly seen you.”

“Leader’s had me off on missions. Four in a row. I’d be lying if I said I’m not tired, too.”

“You just got back from one?” Counselor guessed, raising a brow.

“How did you know?”

“You look like you just ran a marathon.”

“Oh.” Hero laughed. “Yeah... I guess. What, uh, what are you up to? Leader said you’ve been sitting here for like, three hours.”

“You talked to them?”

“Yeah? Is... there something up with that?”

Counselor shook their head.

“No. I’m just- I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Maybe, then... It’s time to put the folders down and get some rest.”

Hero’s gaze turned to the manila yellow folders spread out in front of Counselor-- some marked with coffee stains on the edges.

“What’s in those, anyways?”

“Uh..” Counselor flipped through the folders; closing some, sliding them about, shifting papers between them, before finally flipping one of the folders around so that it faced Hero. “It’s about Villain.”

With those words, they flushed. They’d hardly been able to think about anything else but their captive, recently, and they had to admit that it was verging on becoming an obsession.

Hero pulled the folder closer, opening it and examining the papers within. There were hardly any. Most consisted of printed-out screenshots of security camera footage, or transcripts of radio communications, or emails.

“Leader isn’t really the record-keeping type.” Counselor began. “I think you know that. We have some stuff, though. Most of it is just kinda random, stuff we used once and then shoved in a box somewhere. This is all the records I’ve been able to find, about them. About Villain. We’ve only seen them a couple times, though... There’s not all too much to go off of.”

Hero furrowed their brow.

“Have you been able to find anything in these? I don’t, I mean I don’t want to be rude, but-- Counselor, these kind of all look like crap. There’s nothing here,”

Counselor flushed again, chuckling under their breath.

“I know. That’s the thing.” They dragged the folder back towards themself, flipping it back around. “I know we don’t really keep records, but, I thought there’d be something to go off of.”

“Is there something you’re... looking for?”

“I guess.” They closed the folder, putting it atop the rest of the manila files. “I mean, what do we know about them? Really. That’s not a rhetorical question.”

“Uhh...” Hero looked as though a light bulb had gone off above their head. “You have a good point. I mean... their name is Villain. They control technology. Uhh, they had people with them? Sometimes? Like, two of them.”

“And that’s it.” Counselor sighed. “We don’t know where they came from. We don’t know who they work for.”

“Do you...” Hero lowered their voice. “Do you think they work for Supervillain?”

“I guess it’s possible.” They dipped their head. “That’s the problem. We have no way of knowing. We don’t really know anything about them. I don’t... I don’t know how I’m supposed to help them. If I don’t know anything about them.”

“Help them?”

Counselor shook their head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I- Help them with what?”

Counselor bit the inside of their cheek.

“They’re sick. Or something like that. There’s something wrong with them. They collapsed, the other day. Leader has given Medic full medical custody-- permission to do whatever they think is necessary. I want to help but... I don’t know how to help someone who may as well be a ghost.”

They’d expected a sympathetic nod, or some quiet words. They hadn’t expected Hero to push their chair back from the table.

“Well,” Hero began, “Who would know? Where do we start?”

“I-” The words woke Counselor up more than any coffee ever could. “I guess Villain would know. Unless they’re some kind of amnesiac, they’ve got to know their own past, right?”

“Right.”

“And then... Leader? Maybe? They seem to act so weird around Villain. Maybe they know something we don’t?”

“Makes sense to me. How about I talk to Leader, and you talk to Villain?”

“Well,” Counselor widened their eyes, averting their gaze, “I don’t know if Villain... I don’t know if they trust me. I don’t think they do. I can try, but...”

“Well, you won’t gain their trust by sitting here.” Hero raised a brow. “I’ll talk to Leader. You earn Villain’s trust. Okay?”

“Okay, uh, okay!”

The two stood at the same time. Counselor turned to leave, ignoring their coffee, but was stopped by Hero’s words:

“We’ll go do that, after you get some sleep.”

By the way they spoke it, Counselor knew that the demand was nonnegotiable.

“Fine.” They sighed. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Sleep well, Counselor.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The video began.

Medic couldn’t say they recognized the person the screen depicted-- they had probably seen them before, once or twice, but their name eluded them.

They stood, straight-backed and grinning, in a room made of white tile on floor, walls, and ceiling. Their attire was confident-- they wore no armor or guards of any kind.

The only equipment they had was a leash.

The strip of leather attached to a collar-- one made of metal links, chained together, with inwards-facing spikes around the whole circumference. The choke chain was looped around the neck of a far less confident looking person, their jaw gritted against a muzzle and their eyes practically blazing with raging flame. The fact that their arms were tightly bound behind their back did not stop their attempts at struggling-- they yanked and growled against their bindings, despite wincing every time the spikes of the collar tore at their flesh.

“Hello.” The presenter smiled, as if they didn’t notice the grappling of their captive. Medic’s Latin skills were somewhat rusty, but they could still understand the speech, for the most part. “And welcome. If you’re watching this, then you have very likely found yourself assigned as a new handler for our Assets program.

Now, I understand that there has been considerable confusion regarding this program.”

The prisoner attempted to trip the presenter. A quick tug on the sharpened collar around their neck quickly stopped the attempt. Throughout, the presenter did not so much as break eye contact with the camera.

“The Asset program is a new endeavor. So far, we have had considerable success with various test cases. As such, Supervillain has advised that we expand our efforts.

As you are probably aware, the process of creating an Enhanced person is very complicated, and does not always work as planned. Unfortunately, not all those who go through the program end up being entirely themselves, or entirely loyal to Organization. Before, this was not a problem. However, now that we have lost the capability of creating new Enhanced, at least for the time being, we must work with what we have.”

With the hand that did not hold the leash, the presenter grabbed directly at their captive’s collar-- on the outside, where there were no spikes. They dragged them closer by their neck, until they were looking at the camera. The prisoner whined in pain against their muzzle, clearly struggling to breathe.

“Some of these Enhanced turn to our side easily, with enough incentive. Others, unfortunately, are far more stubborn. They are the focus of the Asset program.

Through the program, these unusable prisoners can be turned into valuable soldiers. Several victories have already been attributed to them.

I understand that this likely seems like quite the daunting task. But, in all truth, an Asset can be trained as easily as any dog. Through this video series, I will demonstrate how this can be done.”

With a smile, the presenter moved towards the camera.

“I’ll talk to you again in the next video. Bye!”

The video froze, and after a moment of whirring, another video appeared in its place. Medic clicked play.

[theadventuresofmarktrans]

Twain + Tom & Huck Headcanons!

Been seeing a lack of Tom and Huck in your Twain headcanons so I’m gonna change that.

First time doing this type of stuff so tell me what you think!

Twain Stuff:

He was born and raised in the country! Has a little bit of an accent.

Twain gets compared to Miraculous Ladybug all the dang time. He doesn’t even know what that show is about, people just make fun of him at the Guild. 

Stationery nerd. Dude was wrapped up in the bullet journal craze when it was huge and now he has so many unused notebooks. They just sit in his closet begging to be used.

I’m a huge stationery nerd myself and I feel like he would really love the feeling of fountain pens on creamy paper. It’s a little bit self indulgent and he loves it!

Rambling more about stationery, Japan is well known for having remarkable stationery quality. Twain definitely snagged some ink and pens while he was there.

His success diary has lil doodles in the margins!

He has kinda messy cursive handwriting. He learnt it in school in his hometown.

He makes sure to say “GG!” at the end of every FPS game round.

By the way, he’s really good at FPS games. Like an absolute legend at them.

Tom and Huck:

Both of them are pretty mischievous in their own ways. They can and will play pranks on people with Twain. 

Tom’s a dreamer and rushes into action.

Huck’s a bit more reserved and has some common sense going on.

They’re both tricksters but try not to go too far. They have to look awkwardly at each other like, “Should we dial this back a bit?”

They have stolen so much food from random places. Supermarkets aren’t safe from them.

They’re both really huggable! They let Twain hug them if he was feeling down.

If the two of them hear someone talk crap about Twain, they can and will attempt to throw down.

Tom and Huck’s relationship with Twain:

Twain really wanted someone to start his adventures as a young teenager with but pretty much had no one. Bam. He finds out about his ability and all of a sudden, he has these two fellows to tag along on his journey!

Twain personally makes clothes for Tom and Huck! He knows a fair bit of sewing and will only really sew for them. 

Tom and Huck steal from Twain’s exes all the time. Twain can and will get that makesweet.com heart locket he gave his highschool s/o back.

Twain genuinely really cares about them and makes sure they are well fed! In his BSD Mayoi amusement park alt he literally is sharing his popcorn with Tom. If that doesn’t say something, I don’t know what does.

Twain will give Tom and Huck plenty of headpats. He treats them like they’re his kids at times.

Tom and Huck have helped Twain countless times during school. Like, if Twain’s nervous about grades, the two of them will sneak into class to make sure Twain’s grades are good.

They have helped him worked on so many school projects. Just helping him assemble that poster board for science fair.

Twain lets Tom and Huck stay in his pockets! The two of them like sitting there comfortably.

[ladybirdwithoutdots]

do you really need to bring shipper wars in the Austen fandom too?

Full offense but people who deny Emma is in love with Mr Knightley and hate on him because they ship her with Harriet, and pretend she should’ve ended up with her, are bullshit.  I’m tired of these posts (including the Harriet stans whom I saw bashing even in some emma/knightley posts when fans of the latter are the first to make cute posts about Harriet too), and honestly, you all just make me feel very negative about Harriet and unable to truly appreciate her scenes with Emma.

Maybe I just don’t care about being a bitch but here’s what an Emma fan who is just tired of the anti Emma/Knightley crap honestly thinks about your nonsense:

Hating on the last Emma adaptation because Emma is in love with Mr Knightley and marries him in the end is as disingenuos and idiotic as hating a Pride and Prejudice adaptation because Darcy and Elizabeth are in love. Le duh!  You can ship him with Bingley and her with Charlotte (or Wickham, if that’s your mood I’m not judging shipping choices here) but if you watch a movie based on an Austen’s book you know what you are getting yourself into, especially when her canon romances tend to be very important plot elements for the protagonists and their character growth. 

I get it’s 2021 and hating all het romance makes some people feel woke and edgy, and I totally get alternative readings and things like that, but out of ALL Austen ships and all her female heroines, Emma is the one female character who doesn’t even need, neither want,  to get married and truly only does that in the end because she is in love.  Emma is the LEAST Austen heroine whose romance you should even question because she honestly only married the guy because of love and no other reason.   Furthermore, unlike most of romances from that time, the guy Emma marries isn’t just some random guy she has met two seconds ago, it actually is her best friend, someone she knows since years and the one person who knows her best and loves her in spite of her flaws. Austen was very forward for her time with their romance, especially given the fact her male love interest actually decides to live with Emma and her father in the end instead of doing what every married man had the right to do at the time (take his wife to his own home where she’d have little to no power). Knightley and Emma are the (original) best friends to lovers relationship. He’s the best friend Emma had loved from the beginning without realizing it. It’s one of the main points of her story and the great irony of the novel that she thinks love isn’t for her, and she had never been in love, but she already is in love with him without realizing it because of their friendship. I’m sorry bro but that had never been Harriet, and it seems hypocritical tbh for some of you to want to give Harriet the story that Mr Knightley has with Emma, all the while hating on him and the romance. Even with the last movie, you have people take quotes de Wilde said about Knightley and Emma (e.g., the one about the movie making you think about ‘the best friend you maybe should have kissed’) out of context to manipulate others into thinking she was talking about Harriet instead (and queer baiting, which would be homophobic)

On one hand, we really do need more stories that put an emphasis on female friendships too and on other relationships that aren’t just the romance. On the other hand, it’s completely useless for writers to try to give us that  (e.g. de Wilde in the last Emma) if everytime two characters care about each other and share screentime together, people claim that relationship (and all scenes that make perfect sense with a normal platonic relationship) must be romance and romance only. It’s almost as if some of you never had a friend and therefore believe that everytime a character cares about another character they must be romantically in love with them. It also makes me believe, more than anything, that romance is the only kind of love that exists or is important for many of you. And if that is the truth, why even bother with fictional friendships then? Why even complain when writers don’t give us that if we are unable to appreciate those relationships as something of equal importance with romance?

I really can’t take people serioustly when they overinflate Harriet and her relationship with Emma all the while they minimize Emma/Knightley’s mutual feelings.  I read people who apparently find it harder to erase Harriet’s baseless crushes on every guy who gives her attention, than erase the actual love story and feelings of the protagonist! Tbh, even if you wanted a gay adaptation of Emma (and not one that is that just for the sake of), it would make much more sense to simply turn Mr Knightley into a female character, therefore still respecting the canon couple and Emma’s character arc, than ship her with Harriet. The latter is a weak alternative and frankly baseless for me because the only things she and Emma have in common is the fact they are both girls and they have an ‘e’ in their name. Full stop. Intellectually, Harriet is no match for Emma and their ranks in society are so apart that their relationship could never ever be equal (and it never was). I don’t want to be harsh but tbh I was never convinced they are actually friends in the novel, and the last movie made it even worse for they emphasized Harriet’s blindness about Emma’s feelings, and how one sided that dynamic is for it’s just Emma who makes an effort to be a friend in the end. Let’s be real here, Harriet doesn’t even know Emma and never really acts as a friend to her, unless your definition of friendship is ‘someone who worships you, and pretends you are the best and right even when you aren’t, as long as they perceive you as a savior who can help them'.  That’s not what being a friend means to me. It speaks volumes to me that the one and only time movie-Harriet actually notices that Emma is a human being with flaws and feelings too is when she gets angry because Emma wants the same guy she wants. I don’t know if Austen’s ‘naive and completely clueless Harriet’ is worse or better than de Wilde’s version but the latter really emphasizes one of the biggest issues of Emma/Harriet even more, to me. As a book Emma fan, before an adaptations fan, I read all kinds of comments about this novel and character but honestly, I never read any real convincing argument why Harriet and Emma should be a couple instead of her and Knightley. Most of what I read boils down to people taking things out of context and/or claims that Harriet is ‘better’ for Emma just because she’s a woman and she agrees with her all the time, while Mr Knightley is the bad guy because he’s older than her (he’s only 37, btw) and criticizes her ( as if Emma doesn’t need someone to criticize her, and her character growth isn’t dependent on precisely that). I get some people wouldn’t like to have someone who is criticizing them but worshiping someone is =/= being their friend or appreciating their real qualities. I also read people point up how much Emma praises Harriet in the book as proof that she’s in love with her, but the same ignore the many instances, especially after Harriet tells her that she loves Mr Knightley, that truly show Emma’s real colors and how much she still considers Harriet her, and especially Mr Knightley’s, inferior to the extent she regrets their friendship and thinks Harriet is ‘uppity’ for thinking Mr Knightley would ruin his reputation to marry someone like her. When I read those arguments it seems, if anything, that people want to have the cake and eat it by saying that Austen’s own story doesn’t matter (and she doesn’t understand her characters’ real feelings) when it comes to the things those people don’t like (eg the fact Knightley is the one Emma is in love with and all the explicit hints about that ), all the while still selectively using some of her writing to support their alternative version of the story. Now with the last movie adaptation, it’s even worse for me. It’s telling that the two scenes people romanticize as pro Emma/Harriet are two phrases/moments that actually emphasize the bad side of their relationship, and why their friendship isn’t good for either of them. The first is the scene when Emma says she ‘wants to keep Harriet for herself’: not only there is nothing romantic about that ( that line is in the book too as well as Knightley’s ‘your infatuation is blinding you’. You are reading a book written in 1800 with modern goggles though, and that alone doesn’t really work) but that phrase should actually make you cringe for it emphasizes how selfish and manipulative Emma is by treating Harriet like her new pet project just because she’s lonely. She doesn’t care about the girl’s feelings for Robert Martin, and what is truly the best for her due to her rank (and how dangerous it actually is for Harriet to not marry and find someone who can offer her protection), even if it’s what she tells herself, she only cares about her own desire to have a new female friend because she lost Mrs Weston and she feels lonely and bored. It’s also true, though, that she is still lying to Mr Knightley too because she does actually want to match Harriet with Mr Elton, that which is obvious in the other scenes, but even that is an expression of Emma’s selfishness and not really a hint of her caring, let alone loving, Harriet as a human at this point. If you read the book, it’s particularly obvious given the fact that Emma isn’t blind about Harriet’s feelings for Robert Martin for she knows that her behavior is bad and the girl actually cares about the guy, but she manipulates her into thinking Mr Elton is better because it’s her choice and she prefers him (until he proposes to her, of course. Then she thinks Mr Elton is trash for being so arrogant to believe someone of his rank could marry her) The second phrase people romanticize is only in the last movie and it’s that annoying ‘I refused Robert Martin because of you’ phrase by Harriet later in the movie. I hate that because, once again, that phrase has nothing ‘romantic’ about it unless you obviously ignore the context and what is actually happening there. Harriet is being passive aggressive with Emma there, gaslighting her and blaming her for the loss of her first suitor BECAUSE HARRIET WANTS MR KNIGHTLEY for herself. Harriet is angry with Emma there because she realizes she loves Mr Knightley TOO and Emma has more chances than her. The most likely sentiment behind that flippant phrase for me is something along the lines of Harriet impulsively telling Emma to move aside and let her have Mr Knightley because she made her lose Robert Martin already. She is trying to make Emma feel guilty, subconsciously or deliberately, but this surely is how Emma herself perceives Harriet’s words too for the poor girl really thinks it makes her a bad person to accept Knightley’s proposal in spite of loving him back. Harriet made her believe she was stealing her man and yet, AND YET, had Harriet been a real friend, to begin with, she should’ve realized Emma’s feelings for him way before she deluded herself into thinking the guy wanted her. But Harriet never cares about Emma’s feelings and even their reconciliation in the end is all, still, about what Emma needs to do for her. Not a word from Harriet about being happy for her friend too. Nothing.

Listen, I really appreciate de Wilde’s attempt to make the Harriet/Emma dynamic better than it is in either the novel or other adaptations, even if it personally doesn’t convince me it’s friendship. But I get it. Like I said at the beginning, it’s important that movies display different kinds of love too beside romance and if you can’t do that with characters like Emma who are the protagonist then when you can even do that? I think it was valid for her and Catton to want to emphasize the fact that Emma, at her core, is truly young and lonely and she doesn’t have friends in the truest sense of the word (Mr Knightley is one, of course, but their point is more about her having a female companion too whom Emma could do more ‘girl’ things she can’t do with her husband or father) but, honestly, I maintain no adaptation ever truly got their relationship right. No one.  Overrating them and pretending that they are best friends forever when there is no substance for that is as incorrect as an interpretation of Austen’s writing as it is treating Harriet as a silly girl Emma barely tolerates. I appreciate the movie shows Emma’s conflict about Harriet when Knightley proposes to her because most of adaptations don’t do that: in the book she really, for a moment, feels so bad for Harriet and feels simultanously happy Mr Knightley loves her but also bad for taking the guy Harriet wants. She is no hero who wants to give up about him to let Harriet have the guy instead, though, but it isn’t like she doesn’t care either. She does and it’s a source of anguish for Emma and part of her character growth that she actually cares and feels empathy for Harriet.

However, if you want Emma to have a real female friend that’s not Harriet and that’s not really the story Austen wrote and the role she gave to Harriet. Like many academics pointed up, like many of Emma’s ‘mirrors’ in the story, Harriet is put there by Austen to emphasize Emma’s immaturity at the beginning and the fact she deliberately doesn’t choose her equals as friends and picks Harriet, instead, as her new pet project because her inferiority makes her easier to manipulate and, like Mr Knightley very eloquently points up, she makes Emma feel superior and more accomplished than she is. Emma doesn’t want to be friends with Jane, for example, because not only she could be more her equal but she actually does see her as superior in the aspects that make Emma the most vulnerable and insecure.

It’s great the movie gave more space to Emma’s relationship with Harriet, and I get that if you want to put the spotlight on female friendship too it’s either Harriet or Mrs Weston but also, let’s not pretend the movie wasn’t focused very much on her romance with Mr Knightley too, perhaps more than other adaptations did. People commend this adaptation for showing his feelings for her more and it’s true, but I will also argue that this movie does emphasize her feelings for him more than adaptations usually do for you really see Emma’s feelings and jealousy towards him before she even realizes her feelings. It’s obvious since their first scene when she’s waiting for him and runs to her piano because she wants to get noticed by him. Her breath constantly hitches when he’s close to her or because of her feelings for him, and she definitely reacts to dancing with him. She may not know her feelings from the start, she might be in her own ‘work in progress’ to figure everything out, but the movie makes it obvious to me that she loves him. If there is any adaptation where you want to be disingenuos about their chemistry and deny their romance, this really isn’t the one tbh. Look, if you want to headcanon Emma as bisexual you’ll find me agreeing with you, but pro LGBT readings and actual representation doesn’t mean, for me, shipping two characters together just because they are the same gender and the writers make them care about each other a bit, or give them screentime. Like I said at the beginning, if I wanted a gay adaptation of Emma I’d rather make Mr Knightley a woman than ship Emma with Harriet or Mrs Weston or Jane. Because regardless their genders, it’s the Knightley character the one Emma loves and wants to be with, and it’s this character who truly represents her best friend and the person who knows her best. It’s Knightley the only one who cares about her well being so much that when she is being the worst version of herself and no one cares, he is the one willing to tell her even if he hates doing that and he feels he’s destroying every chance he has to make her love him back. It’s the Knightley character who ultimately inspires her to be a better person and loves her in spite of her flaws.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Soulmates

Summary: THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM. A week-long experience guaranteed to find you your soulmate. Laxus had dismissed it as nothing but crap, and brought himself a ticket to prove it. It would have gone well, if it weren’t for the handsome guy running the program who kept catching his eye.

Notes: This was written as part of Fraxus Week 2021, as always hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Check out their blog to see all the other content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM

Year: 2055

Location: Tokyo, Japan

"Laxus Dreyar," A robotically cheerful voice echoed through the room. "Please step into the preparation area."

Rising quickly, Laxus strode through the reception room and towards the door that had lit up. The animated emoticon projected onto the wall followed him as he walked, and the glass door shimmered out of existence as he approached. Once through the archway, the glass flickered back into place, and the emoticon went back to its unanimated state. So far, Laxus had yet to be impressed by THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM.

It claimed to be an experience that will end up matching an attendee with their soulmate. You paid your fee, gave up a week of your life, trusted in the system that it would work, and supposedly you'd end up meeting the love of your life. Laxus was only there to disprove it.

Well, also because Ever had paid for it, and he knew how much it costed. But mainly he went to disprove it.

So far, he'd undergone a full body scan, had his social media accounts interrogated, and submitted a completed questionnaire that covered everything from best first date ideas to how he dealt with the inevitability of death. This was apparently so the algorithm could create a profile for him, and was not reflective of how the program would be. According to the guidebook Laxus had absently flicked through, the morning of the first day was slightly tedious, so to better match him with potential lovers. It all seemed stupid – as far as Laxus was concerned, romance was born out of coincidence and chemistry, not a list of things you liked and didn't like – but he was willing to undergo it all just to prove how it was a waste of money.

Each day, he would go on an 'Experience' with a match. It was a simulation of a first date, purpose built to the two people's shared interests. Some people went on candle lit dinners, some people went into an escape room, some people were stranded in the middle of the ocean with only each other for company. Every experience was tailored to the participants.

At least it would be interesting.

Laxus walked down the corridor, following the neon arrows that pointed him to another shimmering glass door. The pretentious modernism of the building was obvious, and it showed off every ridiculous advancement in technology in the most frivolous ways. It couldn't be a more obvious money-making scheme if it tried.

As he walked through the door, he saw a man standing at a podium. His date, perhaps.

Well, if that was the case, they at least knew his type.

Tall, long legs with some obvious lean bulk to them. Well dressed, in clothing that clearly was trying to highlight his physique but not in an obvious way. His face, looking down at the tablet attached to the podium, was sharp and angular, with high cheek bones and a slightly jutting chin. A mole rested below one of his vibrant eyes, and a long main of flowing green hair hung down to his waist. He was hot and Laxus grinned; at least he would spend a bit of time with a sexy guy.

As Laxus approached, the man looked up with a polite smile. He didn't make a move towards him, as Laxus expected, and continued to tap on the tablet before him. The lights gained a bright blue and the small room illuminated itself.

"You must be mister Dreyar," The man said in lieu of a greeting.

"Yeah, nice to meet ya," Laxus nodded, stepping forward and offering the man a hand to shake. He took it; he had a good grip on him. "Guess you're my date for the evening."

"Ah, I'm afraid not," The man denied, and Laxus frowned a little. "I work here, I'll be overseeing your simulations throughout the week as part of a quality control test. You'll meet the man who you've been set up with in the simulation itself."

"Thought the system was supposed to be automated?" Laxus asked, retracting his hand, and taking a step back.

"It is. A few times a year someone is called to watch over, to make sure it's as streamlined as possible," The man looked back down to his tablet again and began typing, and a small bubbling of curiosity grew in Laxus. Nothing he'd act on, but the face of concentration on the man was an attractive one. "I'm surprised you weren't informed beforehand; I must admit. It's in the contract you signed that this could happen, but the company does like to warn people before things begin."

"It ain't a big deal," Laxus shrugged, looking around the small room. "I ain't really sure how this part of the process works, so maybe you could help. I didn't catch yer name, either."

"Freed Justine," The man introduced himself, smirking ever so slightly. "In a moment you'll walk through those doors," he motioned to the aforementioned doors, "and the simulation will begin. Your date will walk through another set of doors, and you'll meet then. We like to have dates meet for the first time mid-way through a simulation, as it feels more natural than meeting beforehand. Once you've spoken for a while, the activity of the simulation can begin."

"How do I know what the 'activity' is?"

"It's normally fairly obvious. If you were, for example, white water rafting, you'd be placed on a dock with a boat already attached to the rapids," Freed explained, looking up from the tablet again. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Laxus would have rather known what he was getting into before it happened, he felt like it would give him an advantage. He couldn't dwell on that, though, as the floor below him lit up. Pulses of light seemed to guide him to a corner of the room, where an odd glass cylinder stood. Clearly they were informing him that he was to get inside the cylinder and, after a nod from Freed, he did as he was instructed.

The cylinder closed as he stepped in, and a flicker of nervousness dwelled inside of him as the glass seemed to seal itself shut. He glanced towards Freed, who gave him a short smile, before a flash of light erupted from above. It only lasted a moment, and Laxus took a second to understand what had happened.

His clothing had changed. Where once he wore an outfit he saw as worthy for a date, he now wore a tee-shirt, shorts, and sneakers.

"The hell?" He murmured under his breath.

"That's the outfit that best fits what kind of date you'll be having," Freed explained as the glass unsealed and Laxus could step out. "Partly it's to better round out the simulation, but I think it's mainly so we don't get sued for property damage should your actual clothes get stained or damaged."

"How romantic," Laxus murmured, before looking down at himself. "Am I having a date in a gym or something?"

"Yes, actually. One of your shared interests is combat sports, so you'll be placed in a boxing arena," Freed said after looking towards the tablet. He thought for a moment, then frowned. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"Glad you did, I like being prepared," Laxus shrugged. "Boxing's hardly romantic, though."

"For the right person, it is," Freed retorted. The lights around the simulation door lit up green, and Freed smiled. "Speaking of the right person, the simulation is ready, so when you're ready please step through. I hope you enjoy your date."

"I'll certainly try," Laxus nodded. "And if I don't, I get to punch the guy."

Freed laughed, and Laxus approached the door and refocused his attention on his goal on disproving the systems worth. He knew that the guy in the simulation wouldn't be his soulmate. If the company was worth it's price, then they would have understood that Freed was a better match for him than some random guy who happened to like to box. Still, once this was over and he'd disproven their complete success claim, he might get Freed's number. It wouldn't be a waste of time.

---

"So he wasn't the love of your life, then?"

That was what greeted Laxus as he walked into the preparation area outside of the simulation. It had been a day since his first date, and Freed stood before his tablet again as if he'd been waiting for Laxus to approach. He probably had.

"Wouldn't be here if he was," Laxus shrugged. "You saw how it went. Hardly compatible."

"I suppose not."

The date itself wasn't awful, in fact it was pretty fun. As Freed had stated, he'd been taken into a simulation of an old-fashioned boxing gymnasium, where he'd met the guy. He wasn't bad looking, and in pretty damn good shape, but they hadn't been destined for a relationship and they both knew it. Though Laxus couldn't say it was time wasted, as they'd exchanged information and said they'd workout together at some point. Laxus had always found it hard to find a spotter who could match his weight, and the guy could certainly do that and more.

"The first dates don't typically be where people settle," Freed continued, tapping at his tablet, perhaps setting up the next simulation. "The first half of the week has a low success rate, honestly. I believe it's mainly collecting information to better inform the matches later in the week, so don't be disheartened."

"I wasn't," Laxus shrugged. "If I'm honest, I don't believe this is real."

"I thought as much," Freed chuckled. "Though you probably shouldn't have told a member of staff that. It might taint my view of you."

"What are you gonna do. Throw me into a simulated volcano?"

"I could," Freed grinned, and it was a pretty nice look on the man. "But the real danger is that you say it to a member of staff who's gone through the program and who met their partner through it. They can get somewhat defensive, and they'll do whatever they can to make you believe it will work, and they'll be rather annoying while doing so. It's something I know from experience."

"You ain't been through it?"

"No, I'm hardly in a rush to find someone," Freed shrugged a little. "I believe that these things will happen when they're meant to, so why force them? And yes, before you point it out, it's hypocritical of me to say that while working here."

"Never been tempted?" Laxus asked.

"Of course. I know you don't believe it but I've yet to see someone leave the program without meeting someone they eventually fell in love with."

Freed didn't seem like the kind of guy to say bullshit like that for no reason, and the honesty in his tone didn't feel as though he was parroting a line from a corporate memo, so maybe he did believe it. Admittedly Laxus hardly knew Freed, so he couldn't make too many judgments about his person, but the fact he seemed to believe that this could find him true love was a little intimidating. A pragmatist like Freed – that's what Laxus thought him to be, anyway – wouldn't say that if he didn't believe it.

A horrible thought suddenly hit Laxus. He might actually find someone who he might fall in love with. That was… worrying.

"You won't need to change clothes today, your date won't require it," Freed said, looking up from his tablet again.

"Good to know," Laxus nodded, trying to ignore the nervousness that was filling him. "You gonna tell me what I'm doing?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "For all we know, if I didn't tell you yesterday, the date might have been entirely different."

"Nah, I don't think so," Laxus chuckled, walking towards the podium Freed was standing behind and leaning on it. He grinned at the man, who looked up at him for a moment before averting his eyes. "Tell me, I'll complain about you to yer manager if you don't."

"What a horrible threat," Freed said sardonically, though he did look down at his tablet again. "It's a fairground with a circus performance at the end. And apparently your date is something of a gymnast, and so there's a high chance that he'll get on stage and perform for you."

"Is that gonna be impressive or is it gonna make me wanna claw my eyes out?" Laxus laughed.

"He's a professional athlete, so I suspect the former," Freed grinned a little.

They chatted for a few minutes more, and eventually the lights around the door lit up again and guided him towards his second date. Laxus pushed off from the podium he was still leaning on, ignoring the teasing comment that he should adjust his posture if he wanted to impress his future husband, and walked through the door and into the simulation of an outdoor fairground. As he crossed the threshold, he didn't notice how his nerves had disappeared completely.

---

"I'm startin' to think your program ain't as good as you're saying it is."

Laxus spoke as he walked into the preparation area, and Freed looked up with a small grin on his face as he approached. Laxus had the slightest falter in his step as he saw that Freed had his hair tied up in a high ponytail, rather than using the low band he'd had on the two previous days. Seriously, the simulation had matched him with two random men and not the beauty before him and yet still claimed to be the best matchmaking system in history. Ha.

His second date hadn't been bad, exactly. The guy was hot in his own way – and someone with a scene/punk interest would have been all over him – and he was entertaining the entire time. But he was a little too much for Laxus. Constantly wiggling eyebrows and euphemisms. Good for the right guy, but not for Laxus.

"We're still collecting data, every date is an improvement on the last," Freed waved off the complaint. "For example, you seemed to enjoy the games you were playing, so a bit of friendly competition is something you'll like in a relationship," Laxus had to admit, someone who could challenge him was a turn on, so the system had gotten that right about him. "That's certainly been taken into account for this date."

The way he'd said the last sentence, with a hint of amusement and restrained laughter, made Laxus nervous. He didn't push the topic, partially out of fear.

"We'll see how confident you are when the week's over and I've turned everyone down," Laxus shrugged.

"You're determined for this to fail for you, aren't you?" Freed asked with amusement, and Laxus didn't deny it, instead choosing to shrug. "Is that why you're here, do you see yourself as the man to take the system down and prove how much of a scam it is? Because we've had literally hundreds of people try that and we've yet to have an unsatisfied customer."

"How do I know they've not been silenced?" Laxus joked, grinning as he walked closer to Freed. "Or worse, you killed 'em, blended their bodies up and sold it as a health drink or something?"

"Because we're not in a poorly written young adult novel?" Freed chuckled. "We actually just burn the corpses, it's much less messy."

"Knew it," Laxus laughed. "You gonna tell me what you're gonna put me through today?"

"Absolutely not," Freed grinned. "And I won't move on that today. Because nothing is going to please me more than seeing your reaction to it."

"Why, it's not weird is it?" Laxus frowned, looking concerned now.

"It depends on your definition of weird, I suppose," Freed smirked, and if it weren't such an attractive expression on the man then Laxus might have taken issue with it. "I'll simply say, I expect it's weighted slightly more towards what your date will enjoy rather than what you're going to enjoy."

"Or you could just tell me what's gonna happen," Laxus prompted, and Freed shook his head.

"You'll require an outfit change."

Laxus sighed a little, apparently the topic was to be dropped. He walked to the glass pod in the corner of the room and allowed it to close behind him, and he turned to look at Freed in expectation. Freed pressed something on the tablet and the light flash of light filled the cylinder a moment later, the same chill running over him as his clothing was replaced.

When he saw his reflection, Laxus found himself more confused than anything. He was only wearing swimming trunks and a large life-preserver. He could swim fine, so didn't know what the hell the point of that thing was, and turned to Freed again in confusion.

Freed, who had apparently been looking at him, immediately turned away, and Laxus could see his cheeks redden.

Huh. Had Freed been checking him out.

"You really not gonna let me know why I need to wear this?" Laxus asked, stepping out of the pod, and lifting one side of the life-preserver. Freed looked back to him, pointedly looking only at his face, cheeks still covered with the slightest dusting of a blush. Laxus wanted to focus on that, and maybe flex his abs to see if he got a reaction, but instead spoke again in a jovial tone. "You know if I drown in a simulation, I'm gonna get a lawyer right?"

"I doubt that will happen," Freed said, seemingly forcing himself to shake off the blush. "It's just a precaution."

"You wanna tell me what it's a precaution against?" Laxus probed.

"No," Freed grinned again. The lights above the door lit up, and Freed's grin widened. "And it seems you'll be finding out now."

Laxus wanted to push the topic more and find out what he was going to endure, and he very nearly ignored the flashing green lights and did just that. He almost did, if it weren't for the fact that he also wanted to take off the life preserver and give Freed an unhindered view of his chest to see what happened, so he clearly wasn't in the right mind to be making decisions. He was trying to disprove love could be found in this place, flirting with the guy was hardly helping his argument.

As he had the previous two times, Freed wished him luck as he approached the door. Thie time, though, it was tinged with amusement, and Laxus felt a swell of anticipation as he walked through the door.

The simulation was… interesting. It took Laxus a moment to realise he recognised what he was seeing, and a further moment to remember what it was. When he was a kid, his grandfather had watched old reruns of a gameshow: Wipeout. It was a ridiculous set of obstacle courses, where idiot contestants tried to win money but usually ended up looking like assholes, falling into water after being hit by giant mechanisms covered in foam cladding. It was cheap entertainment where the contestants were there to be laughed at, and apparently Laxus was going to be enduring the damn thing.

He turned around quickly, watching as the doors flickered out of existence, Freed's smirk being the last thing he saw.

---

The moment Laxus walked into the preparation room, he was met with a bursting of laughter. He crossed his arms, watching as Freed tried and failed to retain his laughter. It took longer than it should have, and it was tempting to shake the bastard. He would deserve it if he was laughing at what Laxus thought he was laughing at.

"It ain't that funny."

"Oh it truly was."

Laxus grit his teeth. His third date had been the most interesting, that was for sure, but it had also been ridiculous. He'd been forced to go through three stupidly weird obstacle courses, competing against his date, who was a loud-mouthed idiot with stupidly pink hair.

Multiple times, he'd been pushed from the course and into the unnecessarily cold water. The loud cackling from his date seemed to be shot straight into his ears the moment he broke the surface of the water, and the man's amusement at Laxus failing seemed to double each time it happened. During the last round, when he'd been knocked down a slope of gushing water by a barrel of all things, Laxus had to stop himself from swimming over to the man and clocking him on the nose. He'd probably be kicked from the system, so he talked himself out of it and instead put his focus onto winning the game. He had, and the brat annoyingly wasn't bothered at all.

"He was fucking annoying," Laxus muttered as he walked closer to Freed. He leant against the podium again, closing his eyes in exasperation. "Good luck finding him a guy to match with."

"Actually he's on his fifth day here, and everyone other than you said they wanted to match with him," Freed informed him, looking over the tablet. He was being cagey in letting Laxus see the screen surely the next date wouldn't be as bad as the last. "So you're the outlier in the set. He's remarkably easy compared to you."

"Honestly, kinda offended by that," Laxus muttered.

Freed breathed out a laugh, before placing the tablet back onto the podium. Laxus didn't spare it a glance, and instead looked towards the clothes-changing pod to see if he would need a new outfit. Seemingly knowing that, the pod lit up and directed Laxus to enter. With a small sigh, he did.

Once inside, the flash went off and his clothes were replaced by the appropriate outfit. Thankfully, this time he'd been replaced by an actual normal outfit. A dinner suit, perfectly tailored for his body. It was entirely black and white and, while he definitely looked good in it, it wasn't exactly what he would have chosen for himself. He liked his clothes to have at least a splash of colour, and suits could have that in a tasteful way when done right.

"Before you ask, you'll be having dinner today," Freed informed him as he stepped out of the pod. "Fairly simple, but I think that's more than earned. Most people only have one peculiar simulation, you've had nothing but."

"Lucky me," Laxus murmured. "Wanna tell me about the guy?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "Though I should say, it's at this point in the program where the system starts to understand what you're looking for. So it's entirely possible that he might be the person you end up with."

"I doubt it," He rebuffed, glancing at his reflection in the pod.

"Just go in with an open mind, that's all I ask," Freed said, typing on the tablet again. "The gentleman you've been set up with supposedly has a ninety two percent match with the data on you we currently have. There's a good chance that this might go well if you let it."

"You know I wanna disprove this, right?" Laxus grinned. "I ain't gonna help you."

"Well, lets make a deal," Freed smirked. "If you go into your date with an open mind, I'll promise not to put this on YouTube."

Laxus went to ask what, but the lights lowered, and a projection appeared on one of the blank walls. Watching the video, Laxus felt his blood run cold and his body tense, and a glare was soon aimed at Freed for what he'd done. The grin, which could only be described as shit-eating, he got in return only went to further annoy him.

The video was of Laxus' previous date. All the instances of him falling off the course, and into the water, had been put into a montage, with ridiculously obnoxious circus music blaring behind it. Laxus looked like a damn asshole. When the footage slowed down, showing him getting punched in the face by a foam-covered fist, only to lose grip of the handholds and fall face first into a pool of mud, Laxus openly growled.

"Delete this."

"Absolutely not," Freed smirked. "You heard my terms. Give your date a chance and I'll make it disappear. If not, the whole world gets to see you looking like this."

"Yer an asshole, you know that?" Laxus asked, though he couldn't help fighting a grin.

"I do," Freed nodded, and Laxus barked out a laugh. "And your date is ready for you. Have fun."

Laxus waved a hand towards him, walking towards the door and adjusting his jacket as he did so. He supposed he would give this date a chance, just to avoid the humiliation of that stupid video being leaked onto the internet. If it went well, then he'd meet a guy he might be interested in. if it didn't go well, then he could spend the entirety of the next day planning some kind of revenge on Freed for forcing him to endure such a night. That would be fun.

---

The date had been… interesting. Freed was right, the guy had certainly been the closest to someone Laxus would consider getting into a long-term relationship with, and that had somewhat spooked him after the date had ended. He'd been completely certain that he wouldn't meet anyone even close to what he wanted, and hadn't allowed for any deviation from that mindset. Having that belief challenged was worrying.

The guy was smart, silver tongued, and pretty sexy. He wore a suit to perfection, knew all the right things to say, and was flirtatious by nature. Which was all good, and certainly wasn't a turn off, but it wasn't enough for Laxus. He was all too focused on flirting, and didn't show off the other facets of his personality, which Laxus had wanted.

But if he had done that, what then? What if he had a good sense of humour, or was passionate about random things and would happily speak of them for hours? Laxus liked men like that, and his date had been dangerously close to that.

What if he'd gotten Laxus to match with him? What would happen then?

Those thoughts were plaguing his mind as he walked into the preparation room. He hadn't prepared himself for actually meeting someone, certainly not someone he wanted to get serious with. Laxus didn't get serious with guys, he was more of a love them and leave them kind of guy. It was part of the reason he wanted to disprove this place; not everyone was looking to find a guy to settle down with, and Laxus saw himself as one of those people. But the entire selling point of THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM was that it matched people together in relationships that would last.

Who even was he when he was in a relationship? Would he be one of those people who obsessively cleaned their home to impress their partner? Would he have to constantly be thinking about dates and things to do? Would he have to buy the guy flowers? He didn't know how to do that shit. He didn't think he even wanted to do that shit.

"Laxus," Freed asked, cutting through Laxus' growing panic. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, fine," Laxus lied. He didn't say anything else.

Freed didn't push conversation, apparently noticing that Laxus wasn't in the mood for their conversations. Laxus walked to the small sofa that he'd previously ignored, sat down, and listened to the gentle tapping of Freed's fingers against the tablet. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out his thoughts.

He wasn't ready for the date this time, because if they were meant to get better each day, then the guy he'd be matched with next might one day become someone important to him. What if he fucked the date up and the guy didn't wanna match with him? What if the guy was perfect for him and he didn't feel anything? Maybe he'd spent years sleeping around, never being with the same guy for longer than a month, and it'd fucked him up somehow.

"If you'd like to enter the pod," Freed prompted, and Laxus looked up to see the clothing pod lit up.

Doing as he was told, he walked into the pod and waited for his clothes to change. After it happened, he felt that his pants had been replaced by something uncomfortably clingy, and he frowned a little. The frown turned to a grimace when he saw his reflection.

"The fuck?" He demanded.

He was dressed in all green, wearing tights and a slightly sparkling tunic. He looked fucking stupid; even more stupid that he had on the damn Wipeout video. He gaped at his own reflection, not entirely sure what to say. The whiplash from emotional turmoil to embarrassed confusion was overwhelming.

"The fuck!" He repeated.

"You'll apparently be performing as Peter Pan for your next date," Freed informed him, and something close to dread built inside of Laxus' stomach. What the fuck? What the fuck! How the fuck had anyone thought that was something he'd enjoy? Who could think he'd wanna be with someone who wanted him to… to perform on stage while looking like an asshole?

"I fucking am not." He snapped.

"The system states that you'll have a very high matching rate with her," Freed replied, before frowning. Laxus also turned to look at him. "You only wanted to be matched with men, didn't you?"

"That's right," Laxus nodded, voice low. It had set him up with a woman?

Freed looked down at his tablet, face scrunching slightly for a moment as he swiped and tapped at the glass, and Laxus tried not to enjoy the sight. He seemed to understand something, flicked on the screen a few more times, and the pod Laxus had left lit up again. Laxus frowned, looking towards it in confusion before turning his gaze back onto Freed.

"There was a blip in the system. Apparently your date and another man's date were mixed up. If you'd like to step into the pod again it'll give you your actual outfit."

Relief flooded through Laxus. There were certain things that he would have outright refused to do, and making an ass out of himself on a stage, dressed like a glorified pixie was certainly one of them. But the contract he had signed said he was obligated to undergo all simulations if he didn't find a match, as not doing so would harm the reputation of the company unfairly. Would Freed had forced him to do it if he hadn't noticed? Laxus hoped not, but he couldn't be sure.

The new outfit was a lot more simple. It was normal clothing, with a large winter coat and, he realised a moment before he tripped, his shoes had been replaced by ice-skates. He knew how to skate, so it wasn't a problem, and compared to what he'd nearly had to undergo, this was perfect.

"Would I have had to do the fucking performance if you didn't notice it?" He asked.

"I'm sure the system would have picked up the mistake before you went in," Freed dismissed, tapping on the tablet, and lighting the door to the simulation room. "You should go now. Don't want to keep him waiting."

Laxus glanced towards Freed, not commenting on how obvious Freed was being in his dismissal. He walked through the door to see an ice rink empty of everything but one man, who was skating towards him. As Laxus skated towards his date, all he could seem to think of was how much better this was than Peter-Fucking-Pan.

His previous nerves about the date were the last thing on his mind.

---

"So here's the thing," Laxus said as he walked into the prep room. "I think you lied to me yesterday."

"Lied about what?" Freed asked.

"This is supposed to be the most successful, most advanced matchmaking system in the whole world, right? It's unmatched and has years of coding and advancements in technology inside of it, right?" He asked, and Freed nodded. "So it kinda seems a little bit bullshit that it wouldn't understand that a guy who's gay would only wanna go on a date with other guys. Feels like that's one of the basic things it should get right?"

"That would be a fair assumption."

"So, if that's right, then it seems unlikely that it'd just happen to me. Seems even weirder that it'd happen conveniently when there's a guy watching over the sessions to pick up the mistake," Laxus walked towards Freed, maintaining eye contact. "All seems coincidental."

"I suppose it does."

"Yeah, it does," Laxus nodded. "So why don't you admit that you're the reason it happened."

"If you already know, what would me admitting to it do?"

Laxus laughed. He didn't know what he had been expecting when he decided to confront Freed with his realisation, which had happened half way through the date with the guy, but he hadn't thought he'd get an honest admission without a moment's guilt.

He wasn't angry about what Freed had done. If he'd gone on the date wearing the costume then he'd certainly be pissed off, but in reality he'd only worn the stupid clothes for a minute or two, and Freed had quickly replaced them with what he was actually meant to wear. In reality it was just a weird thing that Freed had decided to do for a reason Laxus didn't quite understand.

"You really just wanted me to look like a jackass?"

"No, that was coincidental," Freed admitted. "A happy coincidence, mind you, but not the reason I did it. You clearly had gotten overwhelmed by the possibility that the system might actually work, and you were getting in your own head about it. You needed to be shocked out of your own self-doubts, and it was the easiest way to do it. A simple ice-skating date is hardly a challenge when you've just avoided something ridiculous that you'd never enjoy."

Oh, that was actually kinda nice. Weird, but nice. Not what he expected. It was almost flattering, in a way, that Freed had chosen to help him at all.

Of course he couldn't actually say that. He'd entered the room with a build-up of energy, having expected he would need to force the truth out of him by repeatedly asking him. He had been so certain that it would take their entire time together, and it would end with Freed laughing and Laxus trying to salvage his own pride back. He'd half thought that his costumed self would be edited into the fucking Wipeout video to further add to his embarrassment. A kind, if not slightly odd, action was hardly what he expected.

"So, is it actually automated?" He asked, instead of voicing his thanks because it was the only thing he could think of saying. "Or have you just been saying it is while doing everything yourself."

"No, it's automated, but I can override anything should I want to, which is what I did."

"Show me," Laxus demanded.

Freed nodded, moving slightly so Laxus could stand beside him in front of the tablet. Laxus stood behind him, trying to ignore the fact that this was the closest he'd been to Freed, and he could almost feel the heat radiating off him. It was hardly an appropriate thing to think, particularly when he was going to be on a date with another man damn soon.

He focused on the interface. He saw a quick flash of what his date would be – another meal with a guy – before Freed overrode the system. He pressed a few buttons and ended up controlling the clothing pod. He loaded the program up, and was given a large interface of different outfits, all with pictures to show what they'd look like.

"It's surprisingly user friendly," Freed said, pressing a random outfit and loading it into the system. "Now if you went inside, you'd be wearing that."

"So even I could do it, then?" Laxus asked with a grin, and Freed faltered beside him.

"I suppose."

"What you did for me was pretty nice of ya, but I still ended up like an idiot in a costume because you made me wear it," Laxus mused aloud, and Freed audibly sighed beside him. "So if you think you're getting away without me turning the tables on ya, you're an idiot."

"I probably should have expected that," Freed murmured to himself, and Laxus laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder, and gently guiding him towards the pod. Freed didn't fight him.

"You should have," Laxus agreed, pushing him into the pod before Freed could second guess anything.

He stood at the tablet a moment later, knowing Freed was watching him. He swiped down the hundreds of outfits before inspiration struck him. He pressed the button for the search bar, typed in his idea, looked over the ten or so options before picking the one that looked the most ridiculous. He added it into the system, pressed the apply button, and grinned as the pod flashed with light. A moment later, Freed was revealed, and Laxus burst into laughter.

Freed looked ridiculous. Dressed entirely in an old-fashioned jester's outfit, purple and yellow, with a stupid hat covered in golden bells. He looked at himself in the mirror, crossing his arms unimpressed as Laxus guffawed at him.

"Holy shit," Laxus cackled. "What kinda date would need you to be dressed like that?"

"The system needs to cover all bases," Freed grunted, expression showing annoyance, but Laxus felt like a smile wanted to break through when the bells on his hat jingled. "Can I have my own clothes back, please?"

"We've got a couple minutes before the sim starts, that's enough time to have fun," Laxus grinned, scrolling through the recommended costumes. He found one, applied it to the pod and activated it.

A moment later, Freed was dressed as a circus clown, and Laxus spluttered into laughter all over again.

"Very mature," Freed mumbled sarcastically, though his words were slightly nasally because of the large red nose he wore. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"I am," Laxus grinned, holding back sniggers as he took in Freed for a moment before he began scrolling again.

This was an opportunity that he couldn't waste, and he'd get the man in as many stupid costumes he could before the date began. He quickly settled on a vampire costume that looked equal parts cheap and ridiculous. Once he applied it, he was slightly disappointed to see that Freed managed to pull it off with startlingly good looks. It was twenty-fifty-five, nobody should be able to look good while wearing a cape.

"The fact you're not complaining about this kind of takes the fun out of it," Laxus teased. "You like dressing up or something?"

"Not particularly, but I'd rather you be doing this than stressing about your date," Freed shrugged, seemingly all too comfortable dressed like a vampire. "Night six has the highest success rate. I thought you'd be panicking, this is better."

Laxus paused for a moment, but didn't say anything. He instead found another costume, and grinned when he saw how little it suited Freed. A clean-cut man like Freed didn't make a good caveman.

He fiddled with the tablet for a little while longer, flicking between costumes. Freed managed to make them look better than he had any right to do, but some of them looked ridiculous and Laxus decided to enjoy those as much as he could. A small timer at the bottom of the screen told him the simulation would be ready within the minute, and in a scramble to further annoy Freed, Laxus quickly picked a random outfit from the selection of superhero costumes. He had applied it before the lights to the simulation lit up, and smirked.

The smirk fell when he looked towards Freed. He'd expected it to be a cheap thing covered in cushioned muscles. The reality was… snug. Too snug for Laxus sanity, truly. He'd expected that Freed was hot as well as handsome, but having it clarified wasn't helping things. The guy was muscular, had a tight body, and biceps that strained against the fabric. Laxus pointedly didn't look down. That would be too much.

And he managed to pull off a bright red cape too. How? Capes were stupid. Not hot.

"You've had your fun," Freed said, and Laxus found solace in looking at his face rather than his very, very visible body. "May I have my own clothes back before you start your date?"

"Why?" Laxus asked as he stepped away from the podium. "Can't you do it yourself while I'm in there?"

"No, I can't," Freed muttered, and Laxus grinned.

"That kinda sounds like a you problem," He smirked, and Freed's face darkened for a moment as he stepped out of the pod. His cape billowed behind him and Laxus smirked. He patted the man on the shoulder. "I don't wanna leave my date waiting, after all," Without any reason to, he actually winked at Freed. "Enjoy your walk home, Superman."

As he entered the sim, he was fairly certain those few seconds of seeing Freed blushing unabashedly would be better than any date the system had in store for him.

---

"Is there something wrong with me?"

The high of messing with Freed hadn't lasted throughout the date, and the feelings had been replaced with a maudlin sense of nothingness. That was a feeling Laxus couldn't seem to get rid of throughout the day, and had persisted as he walked into the preparation room for the last time.

On paper, his date was his perfect man. He was intelligent and suave, well lived and happy to talk about his passions. He was hot, had the long hair that Laxus had always favoured on men, and had been pretty good company. He knew the guy was into him, and he felt like he should have reciprocated the attraction. This man should have been ideal for him, and yet Laxus had felt like he was going through the motions. It made him wonder, if that man wasn't right for him, then who the hell would be?

"What makes you say that?" Freed asked, who had been hunched over his table, furiously tapping at it before he'd entered.

"You said most people match with their sixth date. The guy was nice, good looking, we had interests in common," Laxus muttered. "Didn't feel anything for him."

"That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

"Maybe," Laxus didn't believe it.

He'd wanted to be the person who ruined THE S0U1MATES SYSTEM'S reputation. He'd wanted to be the person who proved that soulmates were pointless because they didn't exist, and even if they did, a computer program wouldn't be the way to find them. He just hadn't realised that, if he did prove that to be true, it would feel like a punch to the gut.

The system had a complete success rate! Everyone who had ever been involved found love. It was fact. Laxus was apparently going to be the exception to that. He was the first unlovable person to enter the program, and he would be the idiot who couldn't get a boyfriend no matter what.

It was shit. It was just fucking shit.

"Laxus, they're just dates," Freed said softly, placing a hand on Laxus shoulder in a comforting gesture. It felt like fire against him. "We dress them up with fancy technology, and we can explain the science in a way that makes it sound impressive, but a date is just a date. When you get two people together, they can fall in love within a moment, but they could also hate one another. That can happen to anyone, no matter what the statistics say."

"The statistics ain't got it wrong with anyone else."

"And you don't know that they have with you. People wait for the seventh night, and it works out for them," Freed assured him, the hand now gently massaging him. It was electric, and Laxus could almost allow himself to be thrilled by it. "And even if the man isn't the person you end up with, you'll find someone at some point. Don't put this on some kind of pedestal, all you'll be doing is meeting a man for the first time."

"The guy's meant to be my soulmate," Laxus scoffed. "It ain't exactly like meeting for coffee."

"It is what you make it, Laxus," Freed placated him. "Not matching with him isn't a failure of personality. It's just a thing that has happened, and it doesn't shape you."

"I guess," Laxus muttered, not exactly confident in his own words.

"You will find someone Laxus," Freed said firmly. "You're fun, intelligent, confident, good looking. A man is out there, and he will find you. Just give him time."

Freed didn't say anything else, and instead patted Laxus on the shoulder and returned to his tablet to do whatever it was he did. Laxus looked down at the floor, his nerves and self-pity only slightly at bay as he tried to agree with what Freed had said. He had come into the program wanting to prove that it was false, and he should have known this would be the outcome.

Focusing on his own problems, he didn't notice the slight change in posture from Freed. His eyes had widened, and he was tapping somewhat manically at the tablet. His teeth were gritting together and his heart hammering. A moment later, he stood up, and Laxus frowned when he saw how tense he looked.

"Don't overreact to this," Freed demanded, voice too calm. "This is a glitch, nothing else. The system has flaws, this is apparently one of them."

"What?"

He took a moment before speaking again. "Apparently you haven't been matched with someone tonight," Freed spoke quietly, almost under his breath, and Laxus felt as though he had been shot. Freed was quick to speak before Laxus could spiral. "This is the program not being able to work as intended. It is not a reflection of you. Do you understand me?"

"Fucks sake," Laxus growled, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"It's not you, Laxus," Freed tried to tell him, but Laxus was walking towards the door. He needed to leave, to get out of this damn place as quickly as he could. Why the hell had he gone there? He was an idiot. He shouldn't have gone. "Wait. Laxus, don't leave."

"Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"Because I don't want you to," Freed said quickly. "I don't want you to feel like you're… whatever it is your feeling. Because whatever it is, whatever you're telling yourself, is false."

"How the hell do you know?"

"I've watched every date of yours, Laxus. I know you, and you are a good man, and anyone would be happy to have you," He insisted, stepping towards Laxus, and placing a hand on his forearm. "If I'm honest, I found myself somewhat jealous that those men got to be with you. I'm sure I could find hundreds of men who would feel exactly the same. Truth be told, I had to stop watching you talking with that little blonde ass last night. It's unprofessional, I know, but it must be said. You are a man who, one day, will be adored and you will deserve it."

Laxus scoffed. "Sure."

"You're incredible, Laxus," Freed stepped closer, placing a hand on Laxus' cheek. Laxus blushed at the action despite himself. "And if this program has made you think otherwise, even for a moment, then it is pointless. Do you understand me?"

"You think I'm incredible?" Laxus asked, voice a little raspy as he looked down at Freed.

"I do."

"Then do something about it," Laxus whispered because he needed Freed to do this.

And he did.

Freed leant forward without hesitation, tilting up his head and slowly, cautiously pushed his lips against Laxus'. His hand remained on Laxus' cheek, and slowly he started to move his lips in tandem with Laxus', opening his mouth slightly as he pushed himself up against him. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's waist, and felt himself clinging to the man as if he were a lifeline.

The kiss could only last a moment, and when Laxus pulled away and was met with the slightly flushed, kiss swollen expression of Freed in his arms, all of his doubts seemed to flow away. This was more important.

"Damn," He whispered, and Freed breathed out a laugh.

"Yes," He agreed. "Damn."

"Wanted to do that from when I first saw ya," Laxus admitted.

"And I you," Freed confessed, smiling. "I must admit, watching you with those men became somewhat torturous by the end."

"Would've stopped if you told me," Laxus shrugged.

"Then you might not have come back, and I didn't want that any more than I wanted to see you match with someone," Freed chuckled.

They stayed in their embrace for a moment, Laxus gently stroking Freed's lower back with his fingers in a slow and comforting gesture. Freed was still cupping his cheek, and it was a delightful sensation that Laxus didn't want to break. He would have to at some point, and he found himself at a loss of what to do next. For a moment he considered asking Freed to set up some kind of simulation for them both, but he felt he'd had enough of the damn place for now.

"You wanna maybe go somewhere and get something to eat?" He asked, and Freed pulled back slightly with a smile.

"That'd be nice," Freed agreed, though then smirked. "Though are you sure it's not too boring? Wouldn't you rather ice skating? Or maybe a boxing match? Or an obstacle course that you keep failing at?"

"Don't be a dick," Laxus laughed, pulling himself off of Freed. "Or I'll drag you back to the pod and you'll have to go to dinner dressed as batman. Dunno how happy a restaurant is gonna be with the Dark Night's cape falling in the soup."

"I'd rather avoid that. My roommate already thinks me odd after what you did yesterday, I don't need anyone else agreeing with him," Freed laughed, and Laxus grinned at the confession. He wrapped an arm around Freed's waist as they began to leave the room. "Though, if I could get you in the Peter Pan costume again I couldn't complain. Those tights were rather flattering."

"Didn't realise you were lookin'," Laxus smirked.

"I was more subtle than you were, then," Freed grinned, and Laxus laughed.

As they left the room, the simulation unused, neither man noticed the screen of the table lighting up with an updated message.

Laxus Dreyar.

Profile = Matched.

Soulmate Level = 100%

[houseisekai]

Echo Battle 2: Class VII/Garreg Mach Students VS. Klee

House Isekai ARR Masterlist Here

—

—

- Jean waited patiently as the Instructors of House Isekai looked at all the data being transferred.

- The Knights of Favonius members were sitting near each other on crates, watching them at work.

(Lisa) "How exactly is this going to work, now?"

(Aigis) "During your last fight, we were able to recreate people from our memories with them. That's what we understand anyway, the Crystal Tower is still being investigated on how it exactly works."

(Rean) "This test is working off all of your memories, so you will not be participating in this combat exercise. We need to test the effectiveness of our recreations."

(Kaeya) "Makes sense."

(Venti) "So, just who exactly are we grabbing for this test?"

- Before anyone could answer him, Class VII and the Garreg Mach students walked in.

(Kurt) "Instructors."

(Kairos) "We're ready for today's exercise."

(Kazuma) "Good, cause by the looks of it, think you're gonna need it!"

- They all looked at each other and shrugged, walking into position and unsheathing their weapons.

(Aigis) "Last time, you were tasked with fighting overwhelming odds, going against former members Doomguy and Darkness. Today, you will be fighting a wild card, something you cannot possibly predict, much like Kazuma's group. Your objective is to simply make the enemy surrender."

(Juna) "So, who's the person?"

(Rean) "That's the fun part. You won't know."

(Stefan) "Of course not..."

(Towa) "Beginning simulation!"

- House Isekai was teleported to a massive training hall, almost a 1 to 1 recreation of Garreg Mach’s training hall. waiting for their opponent.

(Helena) "I think we'll be fighting only one person judging from what they were saying."

(Elizabeth) "Seems a bit overkill with all of us here, doesn't it?"

(Kairos) "Tch, are you forgetting how easily our asses were handed to us just against two people?!"

(Altina) "Numerical advantage does not appear to be a factor in this world. It is all about the individual."

(Musse) "That goes doubly so for our world. One person is all it takes to change the tide of a battle."

(Ash) "So...where's our target?"

(Juna) "Oh crap, did the exercise already start?!"

(Astrid) "It might be an ambush!"

- Everyone drew their weapons out and looked around.

====

- Meanwhile, the staff and Knights were watching through a screen.

(Venti) "As I was saying, who did you choose?"

(Towa) "We tried not to poke around in your memories too much, so we just grabbed someone you all had met before. She showed up pretty regularly too, specifically in Jean's."

(Jean) "She?"

(Rean) "Don't think you ever told us about her, know who this is?

- Rean held up a crystal and it displayed a low quality image.

(Amber) "...Oh hey, Klee!"

(Diluc) "Man, you don't seem to relent on giving those kids a beating, do you?'

(Kazuma) "Eh? I know the whole theme of today's training is wild card or whatever, but what can she do?"

(Jean) "Well, you see..."

====

[Let's go, Crimson Knight! - Genshin Impact OST]

(Kurt) "To our left!"

- Everyone spun around as a small figure materialized.

- It was a small red girl with a large backpack.

(Klee) "Oh, hello! Who are you all?"

(Kurt) "Uh...My name is Kurt, and this is Class VII. Juna, Altina, Ash, and Musse."

(Elizabeth) "Oh goddess, she is adorable! I'm Elizabeth! We are students of Garreg Mach! These are other students."

(Kairos) "Kairos. That's Helena, Astrid, and Stefan."

(Stefan) "Cute kid...Wait, is she our enemy for today?"

(Klee) "E...Enemy? Oh, you mean to play!"

(Ash) "...Sure?"

(Klee) "Yay! Wanna play catch?"

- Klee had a glint in her eye that made everyone get back on guard.

(Astrid) "I don't think we should say yes to that..."

(Klee) "Ah, here we go!"

- Klee brought out a small spherical object and tossed it at the group.

(Helena) "It's...kind of cute."

(Altina) ...?! "Alert, high amounts of gunpowder detected!"

(Stefan) "Wait, does that mean-"

(Musse) "IT'S A GRENADE!"

- Stefan rushed to the front as his helmet's visor slid down and slammed his shield in front of the bomb, the explosion going off and making everyone dive for cover on the ground.

- When it detonated, debris rocketed into the air, the floor's contents scattering in random directions while it rained smaller chunks onto the students.

(Kairos) "This is our wild card?!"

(Klee) "Heehee! I got more~!"

(Kurt) "JUNA!"

(Juna) "Set, Gunner!"

- Juna's tonfa's aimed towards the bombs being tossed at them, and pulled the triggers.

- Bullets flew out and hit their marks, each explosion causing a small smokescreen of dust and gunpowder to fill the air.

- Kairos and Elizabeth's hands glowed as they charged up their spells and aimed at Klee.

- Klee was humming as she tossed a massive bomb that bounced across the floor like a ball.

- Helena, Astrid, and Altina ran behind cover while Klee seemed to not notice the three on her flank.

- Stefan, Ash, and Kurt dodged out the way of the incoming bouncing bomb.

- Musse, Juna, Elizabeth, and Kairos tried shooting the bouncing bomb, but every shot ricocheted off before it blew up, scattering smaller shaped bombs around their feet.

(Musse) "NOBODY MOVE!"

(Elizabeth) "What in the world are these!?"

(Juna) "I think they're mines!-"

- She was cut off by the rapid explosions they caused, setting everything on fire, including them.

- They quickly shattered into glass-like shards and disappeared from the simulation.

====

- The four flew out of the simulation and landed on their backs.

(Juna) "Ugh...my ears are ringing...!"

- Amber and Venti couldn't help but snicker.

(Kaeya) "Well, looks like we taught her well."

(Kairos) "You trained her to use explosives?!"

(Jean) "That would have been Klee's mother..."

(Lisa) "And you think our little Klee is a handful!" chuckle

====

- Helena appeared behind Klee and grabbed her bag.

(Klee) "H-HEY!"

(Helena) "Stop that."

- Klee jumped up angrily as she reached for her bag.

(Klee) "Give Dodoco back!"

- Astrid and Altina walked up to Klee, Astrid keeping her spear out while Altina kept her summon by her side.

(Helena) "Dodoco?"

- Klee pointed at the small keychain that resembled her bombs.

(Klee) "Dodoco is my friend! You're not playing nice!"

(Astrid) "Playing nice?! You're blowing us up!"

- Kurt, Ash, and Stefan kept their distance, trying to sneak up from behind as she was distracted.

(Klee) "GIVE HIM BACK!"

- Klee reached for her pocket.

(Klee) "BLOW THEM ALL UP!"

- As her hands extended outwards, small flowers flew out behind her, all seeming to have a mind of their own as they charged up.

(Altina) "ALERT!"

(Helena) "Oh sh-"

- The small flowers shot out laser-like projectiles, which quickly blew them into smithereens, the three being reduced to shards.

(Stefan) "GOOD GODDESS!"

====

(Kazuma) "JESUS CHRIST!"

(Aigis) "I see..."

(Towa) "I think we need to choose easier candidates?"

(Rean) "Maybe we should choose next time and not Aigis."

(Aigis) "M-My apologies..."

====

(Ash) "So wait, if those automatically aimed at them, then what about-"

- The flowers turned to the last three members.

(Ash) "...Us-"

KABOOOOOOOOOOOM!

(Klee) "Hmph, jerks!"

====

- The three slid out of the simulation, face first.

(Jean) "...Well, you lasted longer than most people do."

(Diluc) "Take comfort in that, at least."

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Laugh Out Loud Friday

Third to last installment for @cap-ironman rec week, and today we’re focusing on fics that, in my humble opinion, are flipping hysterical. For me that tends to mean lots of snarky banter, but I found some hysterical situation comedy in my favs folder too when I was looking for recs today. In any event, if you’re in the mood for a giggle, here’s some fics that’ll deliver in spades.

Moanin’

Author: Captain_Panda

Word Count: 1,041

Summary: Wet. Steamy. Sultry. Jazz.  It's jazz.  In a bathtub.

Why You Should Read It:

Captain_Panda’s another Stony gem that puts out good stuff on the regular, and this one’s just such a delightful gem.

Tony is naked, sick, and high on cough syrup. Steve needs to get him a dinner held in his honor. Honestly, the mental imagery alone is enough to do it for me; it is a firm principle of mine that far more people should write naked, high Tony Stark. This fic’s short, but it’s a great one to go back to if you’re looking for something light and silly.

Bells Will Be Ringing

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 29,651

Summary: Steve Rogers is in love with Tony Stark.  He's determined that he's finally going to do something about that.   Christmas is a time for love and togetherness, and now may be the best chance he has. But some things aren't as simple as they should be.

Why You Should Read It:

I absolutely cannot let a funny Stony fic list happen without recommending something by sci, because dear lord in heaven they are a funny SOB. Pick any of their fics at random and you’ll end up with something equal parts hilarious and delightful. It’s honestly a crime that their work is available for free.

This fic is yet another sci masterpiece, complete with their regular hallmarks of the best goddamn banter I’ve ever read, well-developed characters, spectacular world-building, and a lovely emotional payoff at the end. Additionally, it is absolutely hysterical. If you wanna read about the Avengers Council of Lesbians and what happens if you give Clint Barton a box of Pixie Stix, give it a read.

A Good Vintage

Author: JenTheSweetie

Word Count: 6,727

Summary:  “You own a what?” After Ultron shows up, instead of taking the Avengers to his secret family, Clint takes them to his secret winery.  Things go… a little bit differently.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly, it’s become a bit of a meme in the POTS server that everyone’s always recommending this fic, because A) It does not have nearly enough kudos, and B) Holy crap is it funny.

Clint owns a secret winery instead of a secret farm, and everybody goes there to lie low during Age of Ultron. There is drinking, and swimming, and 90′s hiphop, and a heck of a lot of nachos. Drunk decisions are made. Just a lovely Stony fic with a side of team bonding.

There’s Something Aboot Steve

Author: epicycles

Word Count: 2,314

Summary: "You know, it makes a lot of sense," Tony mused aloud, once all the shouting was over.  "You're so polite, you like maple syrup, you wear a lot of plaid."

Why You Should Read It:

Another one for the silly and delightful pile.

It turns out, Steve Rogers was born in Canada before immigrating to the U.S. when he was a few months old. What will the public say? Will Canada try to take him back? Are the Avengers prepared to fight their hockey-loving brethren to rescue Steve from the clutches of trained polar bears? All that and more answered in this fic.

Even My Phone Misses Your Call

Author: rainbowninja167

Word Count: 10,869

Summary:  Steve makes it all the way to Ohio before conceding that the post-Chitauri road trip might’ve been a mistake. Or, ten times Steve has to call Tony to come pick him up.

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s got more feels in in than what’s been on the list so far, but it’s all balanced perfectly against some damn funny stuff. Steve keeps getting into tight spots for one reason or another, and keeps calling Tony to come pick him up. Friendship, then something else develops from there.

One thing I really like about this one is that both Tony and Steve get to be the funny one. Snarky Steve is such a gift, as is “The serum enhanced all my senses except my common sense” Steve, and “I would be delighted to let you mistake me for a choirboy” Steve, all if which is present here. Add in some mutual pining and some high-quality smut and you’ve got a really delightful fic.

Out of Order

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 4,368

Summary: After Tony and Steve hook up in the Tower elevator, both of them are totally cool with keeping it casual. Totally, totally cool.

Why You Should Read It:

El’s another author it wouldn’t feel right leave out of a list of funny as hell Stony writers, and one whose works you could draw from at random and strike gold.

This one tells a story through times Steve and Tony ride the elevator together, because why have one bottle episode when you can have six? Tony is a snarky bastard, Steve is a smitten grump, both of them are garbage communicators, and at one point Clint spills a bunch of Milk Duds and goes “Aww, Milk Duds no!”. I literally cannot tell you why I find that last one so funny but that scene lives rent-free in my head under a big sign that says “Examples of the Clint Barton We Should’ve Had in the MCU.” Anyway, go read this sweet, funny, delightful fic, it’ll be the highlight of your day.

Lastly, one self-rec, because a witch sent me into the woods to find a cow as white as milk, a cape as red as blood, a hair as yellow as corn, and 10,000 AO3 kudos.

Stupid Sexy Avengers

Author: gogglor

Word Count: 22,624

Summary: Tony, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Jane, and Rhodey all tell each other the funniest thing that's ever happened to them related to their sex lives. If you're interested in hearing the Avengers tell stories about their lives that are funny and mortifying and surprisingly sweet, you've found your fic.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s Clint’s birthday, and as a birthday present he asks Steve and Tony to tell him what happened that got Steve to stop being so shy about making sex jokes. The end result is everyone around the common room telling each other the funniest thing that’s ever happened to them related to their sexual histories.

This one’s a part 2 of a series, but I deliberately wrote it to stand on its own, so there’s no need to go back and read part 1. In it, you’ll find stories of disastrous language misunderstandings, ideas so bad only horny teenagers could think of them, the bonds of friendship forged and tested (in one case literally), and a giant blue glittery dildo named “Mr. Dick.” Personally I think it’s one of the funnier things I’ve ever written, but what do I know, I’m just a Tumblr post you didn’t even pay to read.

We’ve got two more days of Cap-Ironman RecWeek, and I am delighted to tell you all that some of the best is yet to come. Ta-ta for now!

[just-the-hiddles]

Writer’s Spotlight | myoxisbroken

Happy hump day, peeps!  This week’s spotlight is the queen of a historical fic, AU or canon.  The maven of food porn in a fic. And the reigning champ of teasing me with smut @myoxisbroken​ !  Let’s dive in!!

The Basics

MASTERLIST HERE

Any other names you want people to call you?

Miss Ox, myox, whatever you feel like!

How long have you been writing fic?

2 years.

What fandoms and/ships do you write?

MCU (Loki, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes), other Tom Hiddleston characters (Pine, Conrad, Sharpe, Buxton, Nicholls, Plumptre, and ever-growing), and just branching out into Pedro Pascal with The Mandalorian; I also have a few Doctor Who fics in my Masterlist (Ten/Donna Noble)

How did you get started writing fic?

I was reading a ton of Doctor Who fic and enjoying the Doctor/River Song stories. Then I rewatched DW season 4 and was so depressed about Donna's ending that I immediately watched the David Tennant/Catherine Tate version of Much Ado About Nothing. And then I started to ship the Tenth Doctor and Donna.

So I read a bunch of their fic and thought, "You know what would be awesome? If someone wrote a WW2 AU where Donna's a single mother and the Doctor is an injured fighter pilot that she takes in as a boarder." And then I started to get snippets of dialogue in my head, and ideas for scenes, and I wondered if I might be able to write a story myself. I hadn't written anything in years, but I decided to give it a try. And a few months later, I had my first story completed, a 14-chapter Doctor Who AU.

 After that, I had the writing bug and I haven't been able to stop coming up with ideas and working to put them into words!

Story Recommendations

Which of your stories are your favorite?

It is honestly so hard to choose. I'm only going to choose completed works, because I always love the WIPs I'm working on. So, let's see: You Bring Me Home is one of them, because it was so fun to just jump into a sexy vacation romp with some playful kink exploration for James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island). With Brooding Wings was my first attempt at a vampire story using multiple Tom Hiddleston characters, and I really enjoyed playing with the dynamics of different personalities and settings in that world. 

 In A Restless World Like This Is is another, because I had such a great time writing a fluffy love story for Steve Rogers and an older OFC. It started as a spite project because of someone's objections to older characters and turned into such a lovely experience. It was one of the easiest I've ever written in terms of how quickly it flowed from my brain through my fingers. I'd loved writing for Loki (An Excellent Suggestion was my first Loki story, and my first time writing smut) and for Bucky (We Are All Victims of Physics Sometimes was my first dip into capturing Bucky's quiet reserve and depth of emotion).

I honestly could go on and on about stories but would only sound more conceited.

Which story are you most proud of?

I think A Pursuit of the Heart. It was my first time writing in the Regency/Georgian era, and I did a TON of research for it. It was also my first novel-length story, and I didn't even know if I could take on something that big or write a historical romance convincingly, in a way that felt era-appropriate and true. I was so proud of the finished product.

Which of your stories do you think is the most underrated?

Let Your Heart Be Light, a Bucky/OFC story with a Christmas theme - its companion piece, Kissing The New Year In, also didn't get much traction. But I loved writing them!

Someone is new to reading your stories, which story/stories should they read first?

It depends on what actors and characters they like, really, as well as if they like smut or fluff or both. For a smutty one-shot, I'd recommend An Excellent Suggestion (which has a one-shot sequel). For a swoonier longer fic with smut, I'd recommend either You Bring Me Home or my fake relationship Steve Rogers fic The One Thing You Can't See. 

For fluff, An Unforeseen Outcome is a Loki one-shot with both fluff and a little emotional hurt/comfort. Interestingly, I've written more not-smut fluff for Loki than for any other character. I think I just want him to find connection and love and acceptance so much. 

And if you are a fan of historical romance, I'd recommend either my Thomas Sharpe AU A Compromising Situation, or if you like your fics with a healthy dose of angst, Beside Us When Beauty Brightens, my William Buxton (Return to Cranford) story about what happens after he loses Peggy.

Which Story did you do the most research for?

A Pursuit of the Heart, since it was my first one set in the Georgian era and I had a lot of catching up to do! I research for most of my stories, and definitely for my multi-chapter stories. Even if they're contemporary, I still look up resorts, locations, restaurants and local foods, things to do, etc. I can't help it. It's like I'm addicted to research.

Which Story was the easiest to write?

For a multi-chapter fic, In A Restless World Like This Is. For a one-shot, probably my Loki Christmas fluff All I Want For Christmas Is You.

The Writing Process

What is your favorite part of writing?

When a scene I've had in my head just flies out of my fingers and onto the page, and I can read it back and think, "YES! That's just how I wanted it!"

What is your least favorite part?

When my brain is too scattered and unfocused to actually allow me to do any writing.

Describe your style in 1 to 2 sentences.

Well-researched stories that use the information to make you feel like you're there and that incorporate sweetness into even the smuttiest scenario. Also, food porn, and porn porn.

Who are some of your writing idols and/or influences?

For published novels, Mary Balogh and Sabrina Jeffries are two of my favorite historical romance writers, and I think that reading them has helped to make my writing better. In terms of fic authors (some of whom are also published), @nildespirandum​ and @caffiend-queen were two of the first I read in the Tom/Loki fandom and their excellent quality and intriguing plots are an inspiration, even if I will never be able to write plots as twisty as theirs. Also, reading @yespolkadotkitty​'s stories helped me push myself to get better at setting scenes and at incorporating the various senses into stories, because she is so good at both of those things and so much else.

What programs do you use to write and/or edit?

I use Google Docs. I have also been dancing around buying Scrivener for an original novel I plan to write and shop around, so I'll be doing that soon.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Plotter, for sure. My brain would implode if I tried to pants my stories.

Do you write RPF or not?

I have a few chapters of a Tom Hiddleston RPF in draft form but haven't proceeded with it. I'd kind of like to write a Pedro Pascal RPF one-shot. I love reading RPF but feel odd about writing it for some reason.

Who is your favorite character to write and why?

Again with the tough questions! It might be Loki, because he is such a chameleon and there are so many hidden depths to him. I really want to write some multi-chapter Loki stories, because so far I have done one-shots and one 3-chapter short fic. I'd like to explore a longer character arc for him.

What do you think are your writing strengths?

Authenticity because of my research, realistically depicting emotions, and writing in a style that feels genuine to the setting and era.

What do you struggle with?

PLOT. I do think that there is plenty of room for all kinds of stories, and I like to tell stories about relationships. But I would like to get better at adding outside conflict and other types of plot to my stories.

Favorite Trope?

It's so hard to choose between There Was Only One Bed and Fake Relationship. I think those are my top two.

What is the best piece of writing advice you have heard?

Write something. Anything. Even if you think it's crap, get your first draft done, because you can always go back and rewrite something that's bad and make it better. Also, if you're stuck on your WIP, write something else - a piece of another story or one-shot, a description of something you saw, a character profile, a bit of personal journaling. Keep writing and don't let a temporary roadblock turn into a long-term one.

What would you say to a new fanfic writer starting out?

It's hard when something you wrote doesn't get a lot of attention, especially when you love it. We share stories in the hopes that other people will discover and enjoy them, but you have to at least partly do it for your own satisfaction, or it will get pretty discouraging if the likes/kudos, comments, and reblogs just don't happen.

What is a random bit of research you have not managed to work into a fic yet?

Ladies' drawers (underwear) were not commonly worn until the mid-1800s. They were thought to be gentlemen's garments and it was thus vulgar for a lady to wear them. Yes, ladies of the Georgian (incl. Regency) era were generally commando beneath their skirts, petticoats, and shifts. But that was still a lot of layers.

Any goals or WIPs you want to share?

My goal is to write an original novel (series) set during the Napoleonic Wars. My hope is to get it researched, written, and put in final draft form so that I can send query letters out before the end of 2021.

This or That

Fluff or Angst

Fluff AND Smut

Reader Insert or  OC

Canon Divergent or AU

Pepsi or Coke (Neither: Cherry Coke Zero)

Coffee or Tea (Neither: Cocoa)

Sweet AND Savory

And that is it, until next week, remember to check out the masterlist here.  And your new fav fic is just around the corner!  Until next time, toodles!