#i'm sure some people change but these ones do not and time remains a flat fucking circle

[in-death-we-fall]

I wonder if there's anything to Do on christmas that will let me escape the family that I know my mom's gonna be bringing to the house despite knowing I do not wish to see them

[vexwerewolf]

How would you add depth and complexity to the culture of the Purview?

Right now, the KTB gets way more attention both because of the two supplements dedicated to it and because the competing noble houses each with its different gimmick and political alignment make it so easy to come up with drama and intrigue.

Meanwhile the Purview seems, both in and out of fiction, flat and uniform. I'm sure its leadership would want to see it and have it seen that way, but given how much it keeps expanding, and therefore adding new cultures to itself, it would have to have a lot of diversity under the hood, even if it would like to pretend otherwise.

I definitely think the Purview has a harder time of it than the KTB, but that's largely because we have a Field Guide to the KTB, whereas the Field Guide to Harrison Armory never got published because of Miguel's non-compete.

There's also the problem that the KTB has this... glamour to it, in both the modern and traditional senses of the word. I've noticed this in a lot of sci-fi properties - that applying the veneer of nobility and monarchy to something can make people forget or forgive its transgressions more easily.

When Harrison Armory, the nationalist corprostate, does imperialist expansion, we can point at it and immediately say "that's a fascism" (even when it's actually... not? Imperialist expansion is always bad but it's not always necessarily fascistic). But somehow, when the KTB do the same or sometimes worse things, like using nanite terror weapons on Free Sanjak, I've noticed people are quicker to make excuses? Like, oh, yeah that's obviously bad but their society works different the KTB are a big place and like of course they're shitty traditionalists and that's really only the Hagiographs and at least the Karrakin have Republican elements who want change and reform and yeah it's bad but aren't Knightly Chivalrous Mechs Just So Gosh Darned Cool?!

I think the nuance of the KTB is also helped by the fact that they're explicitly depicted as non-monolithic. There are ten named Major Houses with their own distinct cultures, politics and homeworlds, and great pains are taken to ensure us that there's multifarious cultures and religions even on an individual world. HA suffers because to some extent it would be more monolithic - it's a nationalist corprostate with only 400 years of history, compared to the KTB's hybrid elective-monarchy neofeudal federation with 10,000.

HA is distinctly American in the way that the nation has become a brand, and a good citizen has to remain on-brand, so things would be more homogenized. To add to that, omninet and blinkgate technology has existed for the whole of HA's lifespan. The unique and distinct cultures of the KTB worlds came about largely because they spent millennia separated from one another by light years. HA has never had this issue, and likely never will. They have the option - and, more importantly, are motivated - to keep a homogenous culture across all of the Purview.

Lancer is fundamentally a game about examining and fighting against unjust structures of power that oppress people but also being larger-than-life heroes that have fun doing it, and the KTB has an innate leg up by virtue of the fact that it has what I'd call a really strong "initial sell:" YOU'RE A SPACE KNIGHT! SPACE KNIGHTS ARE COOL! (PLEASE DON'T EXAMINE SPACEE FEUDALISM!)

To make Harrison Armory compelling, you'd need a similarly strong initial sell for them. And I think I know just the thing.

FOR HUMANITY! FOR LIBERTY! FOR HARRISON! (Please don't examine space nationalism!)

If I were to write the Harrison Armory Field Guide (Tom and Miguel HMU - just kidding. Unless...?), I'd make it BIG and LOUD and OVER THE TOP and OBVIOUS PROPAGANDA with insertions of the actual truth from a HORUS hacker on the side. I'd put Harrison Armory's positioning as "liberators of the galaxy" front and center - "we dive feet-first into hell to save people from tyrants and slavers. We do the work even the UDoJ/HR won't do. Please do not examine our imperialism or social credit system."

[badomensbaby]

above the law. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.

word count: 4,173

a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."

The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.

"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"

"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."

"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"

A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."

"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."

"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."

"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.

"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"

A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."

"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."

"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.

Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.

And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.

Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.

"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"

Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?

The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."

"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.

After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"

"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."

"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."

"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"

Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"

A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."

"Sorry."

"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."

Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.

"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"

"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."

"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"

"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."

"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.

"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."

"But-"

"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?

"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."

"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."

Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.

"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."

"What-"

"You heard me."

"Luke, I-"

"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."

For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.

"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.

Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.

"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."

With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.

Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"

Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.

Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"

"Do it again."

"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"

"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."

Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.

The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.

You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.

And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.

Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."

"Why-"

"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."

Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.

"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."

He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."

Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"

And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.

You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."

"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."

"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."

Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."

"Luke-" you whimper quietly.

"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."

Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"

"Luke-"

"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."

"Please-"

"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."

Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."

You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.

He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."

Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.

Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."

You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."

Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.

"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.

"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."

Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.

You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"

You can't fucking speak.

Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."

Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.

"Hm?" he hums softly.

"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.

"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."

A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."

Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.

"My good fuckin' girl."

[baratiddyappreciator]

Dating Jack HCs

I've gotta do some more writing for my fav because I love him so much and he deserves more, just in general. NSFW included, because I would do THINGS to this man and I know some people would too, so Minors DNI.

Big appetite, but he's not picky. He'll eat pretty much anything you give him with little to no hesitation. Trying to do some baking and you're not sure if you added too much sugar? Just give him a spoonful of the batter and he'll tell you, flat out. He is partial to foods that he grew up familiar with, since it's what he knows best, so making him a good hearty meal. Steak and vegetables are a popular choice for him, but a nice chicken pot pie with bread is something that will have him melting.

He's not entirely helpless in the kitchen himself, but he's not really good at doing much. He can cook something the way he likes, and he can make basic things, but more advanced meals usually wind up either a bit burnt or a little undercooked. He's got an odd affinity for pancakes and waffles though. Get him to make you some and they're the softest, fluffiest pancakes and waffles you've ever tasted.

He's not really a movie or book guy, if he's bored, he'll go work out or exercise, but he does push things too far sometimes and give in to letting himself relax for a bit to let his body recover before he starts pushing himself again. This is your chance to make him enjoy your favourite pieces of media with you. You matter a lot to him, so he'll pay attention, actively participating by asking questions. He'll look at you with all the love in the world in his eyes, when you're talking about it.

On the other hand, if you take an interest in his past, in Goudou, he'll fall for you and fall for you HARD. You want him to teach you how to do something he cares about? He's putty in your hands for the entire duration. He doesn't expect you to push yourself as hard as he pushes himself, but he will push you to do your best. It stops when you say that you're done, or until he thinks you're not able to keep going.

He's not really one for physical intimacy, but with you, that starts to change. He likes holding your hand while the two of you are walking. He likes putting his hands on your shoulders while you're just standing around doing something, be it waiting in line or just standing around. After the first year of being together, he'll do whatever you want him to. Need him to pick you up so you can look at something on a top shelf? Absolutely, no hesitation, you let him know if you want to come down because he'll just assume you want to be up there for the rest of the time you're there.

He's rough and clumsy about affection at first simply because he's not sure of what you're wanting. His jaw is stiff when you kiss him, his hugs are a bit too firm or too loose, he doesn't really hold your hand, more like cupping it. Until he gets more comfortable, his affection remains lukewarm. You know the second that it just clicks for him, because all of a sudden he's just there, his hugs are tight and warm, he hold your hands properly. He's just so warm with his affection.

Please remember that this man is both blonde and pasty, because he won't put on sunscreen unless you ask, and he WILL get burnt. Will he complain about it? No, but you'll know he's miserable because he'll be moving very carefully, like everything hurts (because it does). Get some aloe and make this man sit down, he'll fall asleep before you get even half way done.

Holding his hands is a fantastic thing. His entire hand engulfs yours, you can feel all the little scars and calluses on his palms and fingers, and if you really pay attention you can feel his pulse. Laying on his chest is something else entirely, because all you can hear is his breathing and his pulse.

NSFW upcoming, if you're a minor then get lost??? We don't want you here?? Annoying ass kid, goddamn.

I love my man, my sweet little blorbo, I'm going to chew on him in a sexy way.

You can't really tie him up, because sometimes he'll get a bit too excited, either the restraints or the furniture you've tied him to will break, but he encourages you to try. If you're not one to take the risk on that, then just tell him to grab the headboard. He'll grab it and he won't let go until you're done.

RIDE! 👏HIM! 👏 RIDE HIM! He teases you when he's on top, but when you're riding him, he just goes dumb, it's like his brain leaks out of his ears, he'll lay there and watch you like you're an actual diety as you use him for your pleasure, and he encourages you to do so, because then he's assured that whatever is done is something that you want.

He doesn't really have any specific fetishes beyond biting and a strong breeding kink, so he's happy to try out whatever you like. The only think he is staunchly against is a daddy kink. Don't call him daddy, that will immediately kill the mood. The only other thing he has a problem with is him being the bottom. He's big, and him letting himself being that vulnerable takes a lot of trust.

Biting him while having sex just drives him fucking WILD, even if it's just a nibble. The second your teeth touch his skin it's game on, he'll have you pinned to the mattress faster than you can blink, though you're not really going to be processing much more than that until he finishes with you.

He makes it painfully obvious when he's thinking about getting you in bed, he'll stare right through your soul (before he fucks it out of you) and hover around you. The best way to get him to say fuck it and fuck you is to wear one of his sweaters... And not much else. Laying on the couch reading a book? Not anymore, he's got your legs over his shoulders, and you're seeing white.

Everything about this man is big. Big hands, big arms, big tits, and a big dick. He's got a girthy thirteen incher, and it is veiny, curves upwards at just the right angle to make you go insane. He knows he's big, and he's not the kind of guy to force something to fit, so he won't even try to push his cock into you until he knows you're ready.

This man is incredibly pliant to what you want to do. Something you can do is just walk up to him while he's laying down, push his head back and ride his face. He won't complain, he'll just get to work on you. Fuck his throat or his tongue, he won't care, he'll be in bliss. That mouth may be intimidating, but it works wonders.

He's got such big, thick fingers, they're perfect to ride. Just reach over and grab his hand, he'll let you use them, anything for his love. If you need him, you can have him, subtle or not. Grind on his thigh to take the edge off, or drag him off to a bathroom to have him take the edge off.

He's got that really big scar right across his front, and it cuts really close to one of his nipples. You'll find that one is a lot more sensitive than the other, and trust me, they are sensitive. There's not much you can do to phase him, but playing with his chest is one way to get him riled up.

[thirteenthdoor]

What's For Dinner Inside The Doors?

Get some (un)boxed lunches with the Hako Onna!

The Hako Onna spread is cloyingly sweet. It's almost all desserts and fruits, with a few savory dishes sprinkled in. There's no serving of it -- it's just there. It's all stretched along a table that actually has twenty chairs and place settings, nine on each side and two at either end, which is two more than the number of players. That's somehow even creepier in a world with no NPCs.

For such a weirdly time-dependent world, everything is visually timeless. There's no natural light whatsoever. The only windows are the stained-glass ones in the main hall, and they're lit no matter what time it is. That means this door world, more than any other, has every shot saturated with that thick, yellow Wong Kar-wai color grading. With all the bold, bloody reds in the wallpaper and carpet, it's just off enough that it makes everything seem kind of sickly, especially at mealtime.

The first meal comes after the first day of gameplay, when nobody's eating except the people who opened boxes that day. The second meal has more people eating -- everyone, it seems, except Cheng Yixie and Ruan Nanzhu. And the third and final meal comes after somebody's dramatic "death." We get one more scene of the table during the confrontation with the second mole and the interrogation aftermath, but no one is eating then.

Instead of going meal-by-meal, I'm treating all three of them as the same, because the spread is basically identical every time. Nothing really changes except the number of people partaking and the number of people left to partake in the first place.

The full table is huge -- so big, in fact, that it barely ever gets fully in a single shot. And yet, the one real good long shot we get of it shows that there's still plenty of room for it in the long almost-room where it's located. I say "almost-room" because it looks more like a large hallway, except it doesn't go anywhere; one side is completely open, while the other three sides are completely closed in. There are two smaller chandeliers, one at each end of the room, and then a great big one in the middle. The big one's barely in any shots, though. I guess the show has a bit of trauma from Tan Zaozao.

I have Opinions about how the placemats don't really fit with the rest of the decor, but the place settings themselves are nice. I'm a huge fan of the cute little chopstick rest that also serves as a place to set your soup spoon. I may have to invest in a set of those.

Everything's extremely fancy in the way that skips right past elegance and goes straight for baroque. The whole aesthetic is crystal, gold, filigree, or some combination of the three. Sure, I wouldn't want to lay out my own dinner table like this, but I think it suits the setting, from the wallpaper to the carpets to whatever that fireplace is doing at the back of the room.

The table is also decorated! There's a couple vases of pretty little flowers at intervals along the table. It's a nice little touch. There are also candles, which remain unlit.

There are three enormous three-tiered cakes on the table -- the one with red sprinkles, the plain white one, and the one that appears to be rolled in crushed nuts (which actually, I notice now, has four tiers). All three of them are proportioned strangely, with the bottom tiers about the same height as one another, and then flat little tops. (I was going to say, just like Ruan Nanzhu! but no, Xia Zhiguang has a bit of a booty. So instead let's go with, just like Ruan Baijie!)

There's also a couple smaller, single- and double-tier cakes situated between them. No one ever cuts into the cakes, probably for continuity reasons, but also because I don't really see a good cake knife here. When the knives start getting thrown on everybody's way out the door, they're all blunt little dinner knives.

The rest of the sweets on the table mostly take the form of single-serving pastries, including pre-cut slices of cake and cups of pudding and whatever little cream rolls those are. They look incredible. Whatever bakery the set designer contracts with does tremendous work.

The wrappers around a lot of the little cakes say "Delicious Fruit Cake" on them. Some of them have been put on upside-down.

There are also little cages that seem to be holding something - a slice of cake each, maybe? At one point, Lin Qiushi lifts one, as though expecting to free the cake; there's nothing left on the tray after he does, though, so I guess it's not just a birdcage-looking dome, but an actual cake cage.

The savory offerings get a little ... perplexing. I have no idea what this is. It looks terrible. If someone tells me what it is and it's not terrible, I'll apologize, but for now, yikes.

There is a whole plate of what look like soft-shell crabs right in the middle of the table. I can't imagine why no one's eating those.

That Motherfucker goes in for what looks like a tuna fish sandwich on white bread. I don't see any other sandwiches like it on the table. He has somehow been boring enough to singlehandedly manifest his own tuna fish sandwich on white bread, which he eats like he's a messy toddler. I want to take his stupid tuna fish sandwich and smack him in the face with it.

There's a platter of what looks to me like ... steaks? Maybe pork chops? That's the chafing dish of sort of oblong brown things piled atop lettuce and tomato slices. My first read of them was actually as sandwiches with brown bread. No, wait, are they sandwiches? Just incredibly overstuffed BLTs? Now I'm not sure what they are. I'm not sure about anything.

Also, a pile of bone-in wings eventually appears in front of Lin Qiushi, who does not appear to be appreciating them appropriately. Same goes for the platter of ... toast? garlic bread? Do those officially count as crostini? I don't make the bread rules around here.

There's a whole roast duck about where the twins usually sit.

Even though nobody seems to be drinking, there are a couple decanters on the table. The one nearest the end is plain-looking and flat-bottomed, but there are a few that have fancy diamond patterns on the side and are tilted. The liquid in them is dark enough that it's probably meant to be red wine in the former and some kind of liquor in the latter.

There's actually a lot of fruits on the table, and they're real enough that they're often the things the actors actually choose to eat. (Will I ever be over trying to pick up a kiwi with a pair of chopsticks? No.)

The other thing most of them actually eat when called upon to eat something is some kind of thick white soup or porridge. Some of the bowls are empty and some are full. At first I didn't see a serving dish for it, so I was asuming people manifest it in the same way ol' What's-His-Name manifests his boring-ass sandwiches. But no, on the first night, there's a white tureen down at the non-fireplace end of the table, right by the bunch of bananas.

And of course, what meal would be complete without a random plate of shrimp? Of all the things sitting out on that table that I'm not going to eat, that dish is surely one of them.

There are even more dishes than I've pointed out here, and not just because I hit the image cap. Many of them, there's never a good enough shot for me to take a substantive guess at what they are, and the rest are just tiny bowls filled with things like nuts and fruits. Somebody went to a lot of chaotic effort to set this table.

I'm assuming the aesthetic the show's going for here is kind of a blown-out version of a child's tea party -- which makes sense, considering that in both book and the board game itself, the Hako Onna herself is a little girl. I wish they'd had a little more of the courage of their convictions and made the entire thing sweet dishes, to the point where it grosses everyone out. Imagine that you're high-strung and miserable, and maybe starving because you didn't eat yesterday, and now you do get to eat but it's all sugar. After a couple days I bet the Hako Onna could tempt you into becoming one of her minions just by offering you a single hardboiled egg.

[lamarseillasie]

When Marat meets Jeanne D'Arc

This is a little Marat anecdote that I discovered recently, reading some of the issues of L'Ami du Peuple: apparently, Jeanne d'Arc has been venturing into revolutionary France as a true patriot - she even appears in Marat's newspaper!

In February 1791, Marat received letters from a certainly somewhat mysterious person who signed them "Jeanne d'Arc". In the March 4 issue, Marat displayed one of the letters in L'Ami du Peuple, along with some other letters he had also received:

Jeanne d'Arc's letter denounces the Marquis de La Fayette in particular, and also recounts an episode in which his officers apparently violently intimidate some citizens in the Tuileries. In the letter, she refers to La Fayette as 'Mottié', which was also the way Marat used to call him in his newspaper. I'm not sure if it was Marat himself who changed his name to 'Mottié' when transcribing the letter or if it was actually originally written that way. In any case, it's interesting and a little funny to think that Marat might have induced other citizens to "defame" La Fayette by calling him by his family name. Here's a rather poor translation I made of the letter itself:

"The officers of l'état-major entered the Thuileries last Thursday, bayonets out to repel the people. Vinezac pushed the indignity to the point of striking a peaceful citizen with his sword, another citizen who blamed this violence was arrested by the aide-de-camp who usually accompanies the king's wife: but the people soon forced him to release him. A cent-suisse assured me that yesterday they had a man in bourgeois dress at their head to command them; he added that Mottié was a scoundrel who was betraying us; and that l'état-major was made up of nothing but brigands who had sold out to him. Mottié was heard to tell the king "that he had nothing to fear from the populace, that he was going to make them see that this scoundrel was not ready to reason, that the Parisian guard was devoted to him, that he had them marching to the beat, and that he would reply that everything would go as he might wish": a discourse that he had held at Gutgnart dit St.-Priest, when he wanted to withdraw. He knows you, Badauts, this vile scoundrel; he treats you as automatons who do his bidding, as brute beasts who know only the voice of your leaders, as ferocious satellites who would disembowel your mothers, and he does you justice. This is only for the flat soldiers who blindly obey their officers, against their fellow citizens, against their brothers. Among the large number who refuse to treat them badly, and who know their rights, how can there not be someone with a heart, who will put the bayonet in the belly of a Vinezac, a la Jarre, a d'Arbelay, and other brigands on l'état-major? Ah! If only one of them had the courage to put a bullet through the head of the counter-revolutionary Mottié, he would be the liberator of the fatherland, and France would be saved!

Signée Jeanne d'Arc.

Ce 29 février 1791."

Curiously, this is not the only time that Jeanne d'Arc appears in L'Ami du Peuple. In the issue of February 13, 1791, Marat briefly evokes her, praising her and asking her to get in touch.

"Warning.

The excellent patriot who signed her letters Jeanne d'Arc, is asked to give her well hidden address to the doorman of the Hotel de la Faudriere, rue de l'ancienne Comédie. We have something interesting to pass on to her: until now, she has been advised to remain silent, and we wish to obtain information on the important facts she has denounced. We will gratefully receive her new information,

Marat, l'ami du peuple."

It's not known whether Jeanne d'Arc passed her address on to Marat or whether they actually got in touch, as I couldn't find any other record in his newspapers, pamphlets or correspondence that mentioned her. Apparently, her identity was never revealed either and, considering that Marat received numerous letters from various readers of L'Ami Du Peuple, it is practically impossible to deduce who the real person behind these letters was. However, it is clear that she did at least pass on important information to Marat.

Doing a bit more research on the subject, I came across a short thread by historian Paul Chopelin on Twitter, in which he talks about this anecdote. According to him, the year before Jeanne d'Arc appeared in Marat's newspapers, the "Chronique du Manège", a royalist newspaper, mocked the militant activist Théroigne de Méricourt, calling her an "anti-Jeanne d'Arc". In this context, the Jeanne d'Arc who wrote to Marat may have adopted this pseudonym as a way of avenging Madame de Méricourt... Who knows!?

Although there is no concrete proof that can tell us who the mysterious person who signed her letters to Marat as Jeanne d'Arc really was, there is no doubt that this is all very fascinating: It shows us, in the end, that Marat really did have all sorts of people in his secret network of informants and patriotic companions!

[oerismine]

Hello again!!! Can I ask about Felderwynne?? What is he like? :D I adore fey characters so much!!

Hihi! I'm appreciating this back and forth we have :D

Ok so Feldy (a nickname he hates but he deserves it because he's a bitch :D) is an Ahamkara, a wish dragon

Not all Ahamkara are the monkey-paw, twist your wishes types, but he for sure is for people he doesn't like

He has his own blorbos too! His first was the character he was kinda made for, a paladin one of my players made called Xaphaniel (or just Xaph). They collected the three remaining parts of him over that campaign, back when he was still called Fassung. First, his Fassung's Fingers, allowing them more Lay on Hands and turning it into a Bonus Action. Got a lot of use, that Lay On Hands :D

Anyway they went from level 5 to 20 together, and eventually that party fought (and beat) a living Ahamkara - oh shit I forgot to mention the death thing! Ahamkara can linger in their remains even after death, leading some to believe that their bones cause hallucinations. They don't, but bones that talk to you inside your brain is a bit unusual :D

So the enemy Ahamkara - It Of Many Names - was fought by the Bandits' Bane, the player party. Xaph's player and I arranged a thing for it too. Xaph accidentally wished the Bandits' Bane could just kill them already, which It twisted into a perverted form of immortality: the Bane and Itself would reincarnate over the whole timeline, meaning It Of Many Names would get to live for aeons, but it would always die at the hands of the folks in the Bandits' Bane

Naturally, Feldy is involved too, and often works at getting the group together to deal with It. His opinion shifts on the villain, but most of the time he doesn't even give a shit about them, he just wants his blorbos back :D

Some people he isn't keen on, but his Paladins like them, so he has to deal with them. He pokes at them a lot, like a kid tapping on the glass at a zoo, trying to get them to fuck up and make wishes he can twist to get rid of them :D

Currently, in a game on hiatus unfortunately, he's with Wynn, another Fey, coincidentally. She's very murder-happy and very gay, and he enjoys her violent side a lot.

He wants more and more little mortal playthings, which he's able to do thanks to Wynn's kills getting sent to his fraction of the Feywilds, combined with the Wishbane Coven, a group set up by Xaphaniel to help prevent unfortunate wishes like the one they did

That wish that immortalised the Bane and It Of Many Names caused such a distortion of reality that the majority of the world changed, and the new world doesn't know the full extent of the changes, but they know about it even 2000 years later, calling it The Cataclysm

The country it happened in was affected the least, with the rest of the disc (flat earth settings are neat :D) being more affected the further from the country of Skorrain they are

So in summary: Felderwynne is an obsessive little dead guy who grants wishes, is bitchy, has blorbos, and enjoys a good fight far too much and he's by far one of my best characters. He also leans on the fourth wall, knowing things he shouldn't and poking at the players too

[ponder-the-orb]

Snippet Sunday!

I actually got tagged last week by @alpydk but had literally nothing to share (plus I was DYING after Comic Con) so I'm starting off today with a snippet from the next chapter of Broken Things:

“I know thy request. And you, my answer.” Withers speaks with the same moth-soft drawl she remembers, like echoes in some infinitely large library, ancient and interminable. And annoying.

Ciri crosses the room until those unsettlingly bloody eyes are just inches away.

“Bring him back.”

“No.”

“That’s it. Just, no?”

“Yes.”

Her fists clench against her cloak. Deep in her gut she’d known this would be his response, it’s the exact reason she hadn’t sought him out herself, even if she had known where to start. It does nothing to stop a fresh anger roiling like hot oil through her. 

“You resurrected us countless times. We perished for so many ridiculous, and frankly, unavoidable reasons and you still did it– easily. You puppeted the corpses of dead absolutists for us, watched as hundreds died at our hands, died for us or alongside us and yet only we were deemed special enough to be brought back. What’s changed?”

“The path of fate required thine allies to live and thwart the plan of the Dead Three. This task is now complete. So too is mine,” he answers flatly. 

“I have gold.”

“The matter of coin is irrelevant. My charge now is to simply remain until once again I am called to rest. This cannot be changed.”

She turns away from him with shaking lips and an acid tongue.

“You once asked me what the value of a single mortal life was. I told you what I truly believed at the time: that none is worth more than any other.” Her voice is quietly even, almost as flat as his. “It seemed like such an obvious answer at the time. With every job I had taken before, I had always tried to avoid killing– so sure there was always another way. And yet barely a day later I was killing without a shred of guilt, burning through people as easily as parchment in my hearth. I was skilled at it. And I told myself it was for the greater good, to save the world and then later, to save the people I cared about. But does that really change what I did? Change the judgement I’ll receive when I finally leave this plane?”

When she turns back, her hands are wreathed in flame, itching to lash out. “So I don’t care what I have to do now to claw back the one life that matters most.” She imagines the withered bark of his skin burning and crumbling, catching faster than summer’s driest wood. It’s always the stench that lingers the longest, that pungent scent of charred skin and bone– then again, she has no idea if there’s even any flesh left to smell.

Withers doesn’t move. “Rend me to ash if thou please. It shall change nothing. No matter the power of the magic or the divine, everything shall become dust and bone eventually. All of Iraxys’ fire in thy blood cannot rewrite the laws of this world.”

Her hand trembles but she closes her fist before the flames can leap.

“Fine,” she whispers, extinguishing the fire in her palm. “If the path of fate is truly set then… then tell me that I can do this. Tell me that I will succeed.”

“That which is yet to come is not one straight road. It branches and splinters each time a new day dawns.” Withers holds out his arms, gesturing around as if painting that road himself. “There is no certainty that I can give for how thou shalt live.”

She slaps her hands to her sides at his non-answer, one step away from pulling him close and shaking him until all those bones rattle and fall apart before her. “But is there a way? Please, tell me.”

Withers stays silent for a long moment. Ciri waits, almost sure he’s simply given up on the conversation before she catches something in his face. She wants to call it a trick of the light or her own eyes adjusting from the brightness of her flame, but she is almost certain that his eyes flash, drawing focus to her for the first time ever.

 “Yes,” he answers. “It would be long and marked with sacrifices perhaps unimaginable to thee now, but yes.”

***

Tagging @alpydk and @mellybaggins!

[amethystina]

I was casually rereading whtd, as one does, and reading the comments (because i love the extra insight you give about the information that we're limited to in Ga On's pov) when i stumbled upon this comment: "… sort everything out? (and no one dies along the way, hopefully) He'll be very happy for them." about lawyer Ko and that in combination with the "minor character death tag" has made me Extremele worried about him. (plus you have also said that the kidnapping tag is not the one we should be worried about!!) I know you probably can't say anything about this because of spoilers, but know that it has been noted!!

Also kind of want a scene wherein lawyer Ko, Yo Han and Ga On are all together. Their dynamic would be so exquisite!! (obviously no pressure to actually write this, just a thought)

Anyway, whtd remains so good even after already having read and reread it in its entirety at least 5 times (and some scenes/chapters much more than that) (my ao3 history says i've visited whtd 200 times… so uh. yeah. i'm normal). I love slow burn so much (to the point where most romance book leave me disappointed bc they MCs get together like 100 pages in), i just love reading/watching the build up of a relationship and you write it so well!

I guess i just wanted to thank you for writing! I hope you're doing well <3

I'm usually very careful not to spoil what's going to happen in future chapters but I'll make an exception this time and flat-out say that you don't have to worry — Lawyer Ko is not going to die. I would literally never forgive myself if I killed him xD Not to mention that you all would probably come for my head if I did. He's just too amazing to be killed off!

So, rest assured, he's not going to die :)

And there will be at least one scene with Ga On, Yo Han, and Lawyer Ko in the same room unless my plans change dramatically. Which they rarely do, but "rarely" isn't the same as "never" so we'll see. Truth be told, though, I'll probably try really hard to keep it because I totally agree — the dynamic would be SPECTACULAR. So yeah. Stay tuned for that, I guess? ;)

You've definitely read Who Holds the Devil more times than I have x'D At least in its entirety. I mean, I reread the chapters at least twice (often three or four times) but I rarely start from the beginning and read it all the way through. I did at the end of my long break last year to get back into the swing of it, but it's difficult to find the time for that since I always have to focus on the next chapter. Which is a bit stressful at times, I will admit, since it puts more pressure on me to remember things at the top of my head (or at least know where to look if I want to check any details) but I'm lucky enough to be blessed with a really good memory, so that helps.

Anyway, I'm so glad you're enjoying it 💜 I honestly didn't plan for the slow burn to be quite this slow when I started the fic, but I can't say I have any regrets. Much like you, I just enjoy it too much ;) There's something so incredibly satisfying about delving this deep into Ga On and Yo Han's feelings and slowly developing relationship. And I guess that's also why I can't help throwing out tidbits of information in the comments, since there's usually so, so much happening within this story that you readers don't see (especially within Yo Han's head).

And I'm still not sure how to handle the knowledge that some people read the comments specifically to find those tidbits. Like, I don't mind you doing so! Go right ahead! They're public and all that. But it kind of blows my mind that some of you are so interested in what I'm writing that you'll do that. It feels a bit surreal to me, but in a good way? Like I'm an ACTUAL writer or something xD

Anyway, thank you so much for this kind and supportive message 💜 I definitely needed it right now because things honestly aren't all that great. Partly because of overall exhaustion and restlessness — mostly due to work — but even more so since it's now been a month since I posted a chapter and the requests for me to please update soon are starting to come in. I swear, it happens like clockwork every time I don't post within a month. And, what makes it worse, is that it's often from people I don't see comments from when I actually DO upload more frequently. As in, they don't comment on the fic itself, only when they think I don't update fast enough. Which is pretty disheartening, not going to lie.

Tragically enough, once the month mark passes, I have to start bracing myself whenever I get a comment or ask because there's now a 50/50 chance that it'll be someone asking me to update soon. They usually try to be nice about it, but it kind of always fails.

So, again, thank you for this. Because while I know that I should take my time and update on my own schedule, it's not always easy to remember that when people start asking me why it's taking so long. This was a nice change of pace and I'm very grateful for your kindness. Thank you 💜

[nanistar]

do you think we could get a sneak peak of saltburn's clan production? like the scripts or the sketches? (of pages already posted of course) i really like seeing how different people approach the comic making process

sure thing!

so i usually post the next 2 sketches on my patreon for the $1+ tiers on tuesday or wednesday, so they get an advanced little view of it before hand. so the ones here are all gonna be older pages.

my entire script and notes i keep in one long google doc. and i send myself feverish notes on discord to be copy/pasta'd into the doc later. i also have a rough estimation of my progress in the story and how much longer i have per chapters, since im trying to keep it to about 30-36 per chapter. i don;t want to spend longer than 2 years on this comic (though im not gonna speedrun it or anything if it ends up going long, im just hoping it stays shorter lol).

i don't script things line-by-line or like a stageplay. i tried doing it early on but i found i made too many deviations depending on how i placed panels and looking back at the script was really annoying.

earliest script i have^

i tend to do dialogue on the fly when actually sketching out the pages, because i know what i'm looking for, so unless i have the specific dialogue that i want to remember to add, i don't write any of that down. although sometimes i get on a roll writing and dialogue flows, so i write it down and change it as needed. i have scenes in my head rather than pages, and i translate those notes later when i need to work on that scene. i very rarely get actual page ideas in my head, but i will say today's update with saltburn flying thru the air and recalling some memories i;ve had in my head for months, along with the one where salt sees the angel i had planned for a while. (i'd LOVE to be able to get a ton of pages sketched at once so i can not worry about it, but the nature of the way that i work is that i just can't think in that much detail far ahead of me. so i can only really do 2 at a time)

^so it tends to look more like this, fast back and forth dialogue to get my point across that i will make fit their voices later on. also i don't use linebreaks or anything just because im lazy so my notes are a fuckin disaster

my god.

as for the actual drawing of the pages, i literally just do it i dont know how to explain it. i sketch things as fast and loose as possible , i try not to have the same size boxes next to each other unless i'm showing the passage of time or a very minor detail change between panels. large panels for establishing shots. ect. sometimes if needed i will do a secondary sketch to figure stuff out, like i needed to do a bunch when working out the first few coyote drawings since ive never drawn dogs in action before. but usually i just whip it out

nightmarish.

this one is still my favorite, and despite looking much better than my normal sketches i did whip it out like normal (i just looked at refs for the other critters so it looks nicer lol)

additionally, i do every single page in the chapter on the same canvas because i love it when procreate crashes. i do all my panel boxes, and any "weird" shaped speech bubbles by hand. i only have one layer for flats, one for BGs, merge them together and do one overlay layer. if i need some extra definition i will add an additional shading layer but i dont like to. once im done with all the art i merge every layer together, send the page to myself on discord, and open it up on my 'puter and do the remaining text and normal speech bubbles in clip studio.

oh yeah people sometimes ask why i do 2 pages instead of one per update, or just do a bunch and upload it less often and the answer is because i don't want to be working on this comic for a very long time, and 2 pages gets me thru faster. if i spend too long working on a scene it starts getting boring for me and im more likely to cheese it which i dont like doing, but if i do two at once i can get stuff done faster. additionally, i cant just do a bunch and upload them all at once because i like the feedback, and it's better for readers to have consistent updates. i have the deadly autism/adhd combo, and my life is literally scheduled week by week and i have to stay consistent or i will die.

but yeah. my process is nightmarish and fast (despite spending like 4-8 hours per page) and loose and crazy but it works for me and keeps me engaged.

[o-rbin]

Thoughts on 271 because I'm still not over it

I know that essentially everyone is really disappointed by 271 for various reasons, but I think what really sticks out to me as the most disappointing is the grave mismanagement of JJK's outlying themes.

If nothing else, this series has dutifully stuck to the cruelty and unfairness of the Jujutsu World, and the thought that it doesn't have to be that way, that things could be better. JJK has stuck to this idea faithfully for the entire series. Countless literary devices, parallels, and foils have been thrown in our faces over and over to bring this point home:

Their world is awful, but love prevails.

Or, it was supposed to, anyway. I can see the areas where Gege attempted to make this true, but ultimately I feel as though the story falls really short at the end. I can't say as to what the reason is, if Gege was just tired and too overworked, or if the story was really planned to go this way, but it's absolutely obscene to fumble something that important at the last second.

I am just as upset about Gojo as anyone else, but I think what's even worse is not the fact that his character is gravely disrespected, but the very foundation that his entire story arc is built off of - the entire reason he went through all that suffering and heartbreak - was BECAUSE he was supposed to be a touchstone for change.

So it falls really flat when, in the end, we didn't get that.

Now, maybe (theoretically) we are just supposed to assume this change occurred because Gojo got rid of the higher ups. But I still feel like even if that's the case, there's not enough in the epilogue to really point us to that conclusion, and can be summed up as conjecture at best. Genuinely, there's nothing about the end of Jujutsu Kaisen that makes me feel like some great shift has occurred. Ultimately, we are at the same place that we began:

High school kids, fighting curses.

We actually didn't even get to undo the premise that people are being used as tools, because, we still are seeing that in the end, and the fact that Gojo was not mourned, or given at least a funeral - the fact that we don't even know what happened to his body- completely dashes any and all hopes of that ever coming full circle. Gojo, to the end of the series, was only ever treated as a human by Geto and Yuta. Even then though, we didn't see a follow up on Yuta 'becoming a monster' in Gojo's place. The narrative just doesn't address it other than making it into a bit of a joke (ouch).

We really didn't even see the full eradication of Sukuna, either, seeing as the last page is his remaining finger.

So I just feel as though, in the end, the story just doesn't do itself any justice. There's no change that's happened, just an obscene amount of grief.

Megumi is still the same boy we saw in chapter one; never learned how to live for himself. We never see his true potential. We haven't gotten a conclusion on Yuji being the new 'strongest' which had been my assumption through the entire series.

We also didn't really get much of the theme addressed where the narrative was punishing Gojo for 'fighting alone' where Yuji and his friends succeed together. I mean, sure, they did technically work together, but it doesn't really feel like the actual defeat of Sukuna at the end was a collaborative effort. Other than his showdown with Todo and Yuji, it still felt like for the most part people were still 1v1 Sukuna, and when we did see people work together it was for one or two or so panels. It doesn't really drive the theme home.

I am really just disappointed in how everything has been managed when we stuck to these ideas the entire time. It's honestly jarring how the story went from being one of the most beautifully written tragedies, to a haphazard collection of ideas hastily thrown in a box and tied with a bow holding it together. There's too many loose ends, too many characters who didn't get a conclusion, too many wasted elements and unanswered questions.

The series is always going to be dear to me, and the characters are the absolute highlight of the experience, but I do wish that the insane level of forethought and care got put into the end of the series as much as it did the beginning. Because the beginning is some of the best writing I have seen from anything in a long time.

[tacittherapist]

TT: Tell me if this is everything. You've betrayed and been betrayed; you're beaten, but not broken; you've learned everything except that which you need to know; and you're still grasping about for purpose. Is that all of it?

CA: wwhat the fuck are you talkin about CA: i havvent said a single wword to you yet CA: you literally just told me to sit dowwn here and started sayin that nonsense like you knoww me

TT: Oh, but I do, Eridan Ampora. I know you very well.

CA: alright usin my full name aint sellin the mystic seer shit as wwell as you think it is so can wwe drop the esoteric pretense an actually talk

TT: Fine. What's on your mind? Or, pan, I suppose.

CA: look it aint impressivve that you knoww alternian lingo

TT: Do you think I'm trying to impress you?

CA: yeah wwhat other reason could you havve for layin it on thick like this

TT: Have you considered the idea that I'm trying to set a more relatable tone by using terms familiar to you?

CA: wwhy wwould you do that

TT: Generally, therapists need to find a common thread with their patients. Otherwise, there's no connection and the therapy falls flat. How can one offer advice or empathy to a stranger without some modicum of shared experience?

CA: no wwonder youre all such blowwhards CA: psychiatractors in alternia wwould just scoop your pan right out of your skull an wwash out all the impurities

TT: I'm sorry, did you say 'psychia-tractors'?

CA: yeah from the wword psyche that means mind an tractor that means one wwho movves

TT: Understood. Continue.

CA: so you just bought the wwhole pan scoopin thing huh? no questions about howw they could possibly sevver the grey matter an somehoww wwash it all wwithout killin the person?

TT: I'm not here to question your long-dead culture. I'm here to help you examine your motives and behavior.

CA: ok wwell anywway CA: i dont evven knoww wwhy im botherin wwith this CA: seems like an huge wwaste a time

TT: You're dead, Eridan. You have all the time left in the universe.

CA: i knoww that you blitherin ninny i wwas talkin about howw you havve no real qualifications nor expertise

TT: As far as you know. But despite your presumptions, you remain stuck here, at least until the bubbles change. So why not try to make this dream a productive one?

CA: you dont mean productivve like t-

TT: I don't mean productive like that, thanks for asking.

CA: okay just makin sure CA: thanks for not chewwin me out for askin i guess CA: a lot of people seem to havve this misconception about me that wway

TT: I can't possibly imagine why.

CA: sigh wwell i guess if wwere really doin this CA: i didnt havve a lot a friends as a wwiggler...

TT: Let's pause. Could you speak to me in the second person, please?

CA: wwhat

TT: Second person perspective. Refer to yourself as 'you', as you narrate your story.

CA: thats so fuckin wweird but wwhatevver CA: you didnt havve many friends as a wwiggler...

[bloodgulchblog]

googling suggests that Brian Reed was the lead writer for Halo 4... what specifically about the story of H4 makes him the villain? It's been a year or so since I've played h4 so the details beyond the broad strokes have been forgotten.

that said i will agree he's the villain for halo 5 that story is Not Great TM

(i just like hearing your opinions on stuff and am totally not trying to mine ideas for what might be changed in a post halo-3 rewrite because i do love the covenant civil war aspects of 4. or the implications that there has to have been one because conflict drives narratives)

Thanks.

Full disclosure, I really don't know what was going on behind the scenes on Halo 4 or 5 and the most I can do is offer rampant speculation, usually based on my biases and very little evidence.

My impressions are these:

Halo has always always had trouble on story, mostly around having strong leadership and a definite idea of where everything is going. There are too many stakeholders with ideas and teams have struggled to get to unified ideas and then to have enough time to implement what they finalize. This was true during Bungie days and definitely feels like it's been true during 343. (I'm more confident on what I say about 1-3 because I actually have a book with a lot of old interview details that speaks to that.)

They'll build up a lot of interesting stuff around the games, even though my opinions on the quality of that stuff vary widely. I had problems with Halo 4, but the stuff that was coming out around 4 where you had multiple stories interweaving touching each others' threads... that was interesting! That was neat! And they got Greg Bear to write three whole novels for us!!! Fuck Karen Traviss, but like... dude!!!!

...And then the campaign was just. What we got. Don't get me wrong, there are things in Halo 4's campaign that are cool and interesting, but like... there will always remain a part of me that is still pissed that they killed Cortana.

Full stop.

I accept new Halo lore as it comes to me and try to do my best to take my lumps and integrate even things that I don't like, but I am still mad that they killed Cortana in the first place and have never really stopped being that.

....Anyway. I'm getting sidetracked.

Aside from CE, which was intended to be self-contained and thus is pretty straightforward and ends with a clear conclusion, Halo game plots have never really been necessarily good. That is just the nature of the beast. Halo 2 ends on a massive cliffhanger because they literally could not finish putting the whole story they wanted to in that game. Halo 3 is a mess because everyone was so violently burned out from Halo 2 that the leadership problem was even worse.

[Suspicious silence re: Reach goes here because I still can't motivate myself to replay Reach]

Halo 4 falls very flat for me with some things that were good and mostly other things that I had to make my peace with and come to be okay with. I will grouse about things, but we've Halo cycled our way around to a lot of people (including me) acknowledging that not everything about Halo 4 was horrible.

(I guess my big things that piss me off about it are: Cortana, as discussed, wasting the Didact, and the weird fucking pivot on Catherine Halsey's character.)

Anyway, Brian Reed. My comment there was kind of a flippant attempt to respond to something I wasn't sure how to feel about, but here's what I got:

Reed wasn't actually the lead writer on 4, that was Christopher Schlerf. I don't know much about either of these people! But after Schlerf left, Reed was the lead writer on 5 and did a lot of work on the comics (that I still haven't read because blah blah blah my usual excuses.)

It's hard for me to pick out what exactly I think his fingerprints are in different parts of Halo, because I don't know the guy or his work particularly well. I'm better at identifying what I think (no guarantees I'm right) was Staten back in early Halo because I've seen enough solo work from him to kind of know what I think he liked, and I've seen enough of Frank O'Connor talking about stuff in interviews to (rightly or wrongly) blame a couple specific Chief things I hate on him, but I don't have that with Reed.

However, I have read Reed's short story in the Fractures anthology. Opinions may vary on this, nobody's gotta agree with me, but I really had to pause with myself after reading Rossbach's World because... it was thoughtful?

So looking at Reed, who had to take over for another lead writer and try to come up with a following act for Halo 4... I still hate Halo 5. A lot. But like, I get it. Of course it feels like a weird pivot hail Mary to find something to focus on, because it was.

I think it was stupid and I hated it, but I do have some sympathy for the pressure on the person who ended up taking the fall for it. Anything where you are working for a highly opinionated nerd audience with tons of pressure is going to be very difficult.

I feel like they should've borne out the Forerunner story threads instead of pivoting to the Created, and maybe gotten to those ideas after the plate was clear. I also think Cortana deserved to live. (If you want to see what inspired some of my thoughts about that, you should look into Bungie's previous series: Marathon. But it has been too long since I personally dug around in Marathon for me to be terribly helpful about it anymore.)

...But I also think that Reed is just a dude who had a job and produced a story I really don't like. I've heard he's been pretty much harassed off the face of the internet? And like... nothing is worth that, man.

People with more insight and background details about what was going on actively might have more information than I do and better reasons to hate him, but I was really really checked out of Halo for the better part of a decade and I'm honestly pretty soft when it comes down to it.

[snow-system-wol]

Incredibly uncanon to normal Snowverse, BUT hope y'all want the rambles about the "vampire" S'ria AU for Snowverse. (Backstory, details. Gonna put the physiology/anatomy details in a reblog bc this post is already long.)

Let's go:

The very basic background on vampire AU is essentially answering a different question that we refuse to answer in normal snowverse.

Because like. A fact of snowverse (and the reason for the name, since vague flashes of it are S'ria's earliest memories when he's in Limsa) is that there is a Mystery period of time. In between.

Point A: a scrawny teen scrambling off a balcony (has not even fully managed to clean blood off) and then dealing with being in an unfamiliar country, temps below freezing, in a part of town absolutely no miqo'te would normally be.

Point B: Confused and mostly amnesiac teen shows up in Limsa Lominsa

And like, y'know. Did someone help him? Did he somehow get on a boat to Limsa? Sneak onto a magitek ship headed to Eorzea? He doesn't really understand how functioning in society works, he can't even read, like. And just traveling through the wilderness would be deadly, he's barely gotten enough layers on to be outside at all.

In "vampire" AU, that is actually answered. How does a 15-year-old in delicate health set out from the city and head across the least populated part of the ice flats without dying? Well, he doesn't, not really.

S'ria never really saw what attacked him, but he eventually woke up and.. the cold wasn't so bad anymore. He felt strong enough to just *keep walking* until he was very far away (and actually saw people that looked like him and none that looked like Garleans.)

(And if, along that long trek, he mostly tried to eat any prey he caught raw, he didn't need to justify that to himself -- not like he knew how to cook anyway.)

Jacke has his hands even more full than usual taking S'ria in, because it doesn't take long to realize that there's a bit more of a situation than S'ria had thought.

(Anyway the only thing I handwave is like, idk how the aging thing works. It's not true vampirism, just something thematically similar, so he is not still physically 15 a decade later when ARR starts. He looks like an adult as WoL (and dating G'raha remains Fine.))

It also also adds a very fun layer to the point in the plot where instead of asking "who are you?" people start to ask "what are you?" (As Thordan quite literally does before he dies.)

And y'know, of course S'ria knows he's... well, not one of a kind probably, but may as well be. It's the sort of thing that is best kept under wraps, for public perception and all that, but it's more the world's worst kept secret in some ways. It took S'ria and Jacke years of him being sickly and weak to realize that whatever less-than-fresh bottles they were getting from the butcher wasn't what he was meant to be consuming. They make do -- the Rogue's guild is a tight knit group after all.

There are plenty of those willing to help in the Scions, once it's explained how best to keep their WoL fighting fit and strong -- but not all those in the A Team are willing, and even those that are must not overdo it... So it is more of a "Scion-wide" secret, which is only a secret in name anymore.

At least they are quick to laugh off the rumors, that "the Warrior of Light is some sort of blood-drinking beast sounds like Garlean garbage propaganda, doesn't it?" but. Open secret, really.

(I'm sure, given how things are in ffxiv, Voidsent is the category of explanation of what was out there in Garlemald given the sheer variety of traits different ones have. I suppose my thoughts are that ones like him from the Source are extremely rare, as victims are usually killed rather than Changed, but -- perhaps there was a measure of sympathy for some poor young creature who was going to die otherwise.)

On the Scion A Team and their opinions on letting S'ria feed from them:

The twins: both are willing, though Alphinaud is a little more scared of the prospect. S'ria himself refuses though, trying to find a polite way to point out that they're really quite small/young and should keep all their blood where it's meant to be. The only time he's more lax about that with Alphinaud is during HW out of necessity, as the only Ishgardian that should ever know about this situation is Haurchefant.

Urianger: earlier game -- says he would be happy to help, but seems blatantly uncomfortable with the idea (if only on a sensory and skin contact level). This changes somewhat after his time on the First.

Y'shtola: it varies, mostly depending on her trust level towards him in different expansions. She's fine with it in ARR, but is more doubtful of his restraint in like, ShB. (Perhaps reasonably so. He seemed...hungrier and less in control of himself with those last few Lightwardens killed.)

Thancred: pretty consistently fine with it, though he acts way more casual about it than he actually feels. (When he's actually Thancred, of course. Lahabrea categorically refused, mostly just side-eyeing the whole situation for any developments. Nothing under the sun is new to Ascian, but also What the Hell.)

Lyse: S'ria and her are a little awkward around each other in early game and she refuses during ARR, but by the point of SB besties she's much more "alright bon appetit or whatever, get over here" about the whole thing.

G'raha: I'll be honest, I don't think the whole question was even asked before he said yes.

Estinien: there's still a bit of an old knee-jerk reaction of a dragonhunter, that there's something unnatural about that, and then immediately decides "whatever, I've got extra blood". (He is briefly concerned that he might have traces of dragons blood in his veins, but he's pretty sure that wouldn't do anything to S'ria.)

Honorable mentions:

The lalafells: oh noo, S'ria has developed an okay sense of how much is alright to take and is quite sure that'd go badly when applied to someone half his size. Nervously denied regardless of their own stance.

[somebodiesspecificstories]

Formal Objection

"I understand that you're going to present a formal objection to my magical pursuits to the council?"

"You aren't supposed to know about that, but yes. I'm going to object to your pursuit of mind altering. Honestly, I'm shocked I even have to, it should be very obvious why we don't explore such magics. They can only be used for evil."

"I don't know about that, sure it has some... inherent moral questions, but think of the good it could do."

"You won't convince me. I've read your arguments and they all fall flat. Nobody should have access to that power."

"Oh, you've read my arguments? All of them?"

"Yes."

"Well, if they didn't convince you, yes, I'm sure nothing I could argue can convince you."

"You're correct. Now, please step aside, so I can make my objection."

"Of course, I will allow you to make your objection. As long as it is in compliance with the rules."

"C-compliance with the... rules?"

"Yes, compliance with the rules. You will comply with the rules, won't you?"

"Comply with the rules. Yes, I will comply with the rules."

"Good, you're compliance with the rules on your objection. You know to comply with the rule of exception, yes?"

"Rule of... exception?"

"You were going to object to the idea of people pursuing mind altering magic, yes? Because nobody should have that kind of power?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"You are aware that that isn't in compliance with the rule of exception, though, aren't you?"

"What? No, I... I must comply with the rule of exception."

"Yes, you must. So, allow me to amend your objection so it complies with this rule. Your objection should be that nobody except me should pursue this magic. Nobody except me should have such power. You object to anyone else trying to look into this magic. Do you understand this change to comply with the rules?"

"Yes. I understand. My objection is that nobody except you should pursue such things because nobody except you should have such power. I object to anyone else looking into this magic."

"Good. You comply with the rules, so I will now release you."

"Uh... what was I saying?"

"You were going to submit your formal objection to the council."

"Oh, yeah, of course. The idea of teaching that magic to anyone else except you is ridiculous. Nobody else should have that power."

"Good. I'm glad everyone understands that."

"Well... not everyone does."

"Oh?"

"I'm just going to be the first person submitting my objection. About fourteen of us have agreed to make an objection, but... everyone else isn't complying with the rules, I'm sorry to say."

"I see. Do you have contact with these fourteen objectors?

"Yes."

"Have they all read my arguments?"

"Not all of them. Just eight."

"I see. Well, could you arrange a meetup with these eight? So I can go and help them follow the rules?"

"Of course I can."

"Good. Can you do that before you head to make your objection?"

"Certainly. Just give me a second."

"Oh and the remaining five, I'll need you to inform the council of their lack of compliance with the rule of exception. Tell them the names and that they aren't in compliance. Nobody who doesn't comply should be taken seriously."

"Of course. I will inform them of the lack of compliance with the rule of exception. Nobody who doesn't comply should be taken seriously. OK, I've arranged the meeting, here's the room."

"Good. Well, I shouldn't take up any more of your time. I'll release you and let you on your way."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

...

"What a fine group of names. I will have to teach them to comply with the rule of carnality as well as exception, I think. A good orgy just like the one I had with the council last night will be very fun."

[the-iron-orchid]

❝  i’m not expecting anything,  i just,  thought it’d be nice to keep you company tonight. ❞

For Yeshe and Arjun because I feel like causing problems on purpose.

The FACE I am MAKING right NOW Pearl

Background: I haven't even finished writing it all up yet... we just thought it'd be funny to saddle Yeshe with a naga character with traits vaguely based on my actual pet snek lmao The gist is that years ago, the Nagaraja sent messengers around the world to warn of the Devil's plans. However, Arjun, the one sent to Venterre, was caught. Worse, because his serpent form is leucistic, he was bound in that form and given to Lucio for his menagerie. He remained captive for years, even after Lucio's death and the Devil being bound. While visiting the Countess's restored animal sanctuary, Yeshe accidentally frees Arjun by speaking the Mantra for Animal Liberation over him - something xe does out of habit as part of xir spiritual practice. Arjun declares that he now owes service to his liberator, otherwise he would be disgraced for not repaying his debt on top of failing his mission. The rest is sitcom history...)

Yeshe squints at Arjun over the mending in xir hands. For all of his decades of life beyond xir own, he is still somewhat young... for a naga. It shows in his brashness, even cockiness at times.

This diffidence, mild as it is, is unlike him.

"You keep my company all day, Arjun." In fact, xe cannot leave the flat without him shadowing, ready to defend from all manner of imagined city threats, puffing his chest at anyone who gets too close. It's become something of a point of amusement in the Marketplace.

The naga's pale eyes flick aside. That is also unusual; he often stares like a snake, seldom blinking.

"Are your rooms not to your liking?" xe asks. "I'm sure the Countess would be happy to have them changed for you."

"No... no, they are very comfortable," he answers.

Xe pauses, taking in the attitude of his shoulders as he slumps, his elbows resting on the table. "Forgive me, but... are you homesick?"

A faintly stricken look comes over his face, then he sighs. "It's not important."

"Arjun, you are very far from your people... and you have been for some years. It would be strange if you didn't feel that way." Xe sets down the work, folding xir hands. "I've told you... my freeing you was an accident. You don't owe me anything. You can go home whenever you want."

A scowl furrows his brow, disrupting the crimson line of his tilak. "And I have told you... I must do this, before I can return with any honor to my name at all."

It is Yeshe's turn to sigh, now. "But you miss your homeland."

"...yes. I miss the waters. I miss my siblings." He takes a deep breath. "I... don't like being alone."

To give to one in distress is a moral imperative, the Perfection of Generosity. That imperative is even greater when it is something intangible, given of the self - a teaching, or comfort. What must it be like, to be the only one of his kind in all of Vesuvia, perhaps on the continent?

"You don't have to be alone," xe says, reaching for xir cane, rising with its aid. Arjun looks up at xem questioningly. "You may stay. As for the waters... well. I'm sure there's some place where you can at least go for a nice swim."

"The Palace waters are quite nice... if you don't mind the vampire eels." He laughs, showing the little points of his fangs. "Of course, they are afraid of me."

Yeshe gives the naga a narrow look. "Are you saying that you are the mythical King Eel of the Palace moat?"

His grin broadens. "It isn't my fault if people can't tell a giant snake from a giant eel."

-----

Arjun prefers to sleep in his natural form. His humanoid half rests quite normally on the pillow, but the vast coils of his snake-tail loop about under the coverlet, trailing off the edge of the bed. A cat has curled up in one of these loops, like a nest. Another cat has insinuated itself behind what would be his legs... if he had them at the moment. He seems to have fallen asleep the moment he arranged himself, no longer alone.

Samsara is a strange place. All beings have been all things to each other, over and over again through beginningless time, returning and forgetting. Perhaps Yeshe has become too complacent, too attached to xir current way of life, and this is the action of karma, disrupting that.

Having crossed over, I will rescue others. Having liberated myself, I will liberate others. Having found comfort, I will comfort others. Having attained parinirvana, I will cause others to attain it.

Both of them have taken a vow - he to xem, and xem to all beings.

There is little for it but to see how it all plays out.