#idek if its a lost language

[thegradus2]

Okay so i put my thang in the reblogs of this post at first but i decided i wanted to make my own post SO

Crack hc that as a bored lonely teenager og cale reverse engineered the magic language used in tcf and is basically fluent now (the way people learn hilichurlian or enchanting table text for fun)

But noone knows he learned that, and the moment anyone does learn he has mages salivating at his feet LOL

[coloursofaparadox]

>:[

[nomaishuttle]

i will not let one bitchy resident ruin my good day . affirmations

[mattdillonbae]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒.

warnings - use of bad language, sex, masturbation, roughness, oral sex, regular sex, cumming, etc

words - idek

fem girl x dallas winston

────୨ৎ────

"You know, I've had enough of this," Dallas murmured, his eyes scanning the crowded room with a mix of boredom and disdain. The party was in full swing, but he wasn't feeling it. The music was too loud, the laughter too forced, and the air had the sweet, cloying scent of spilled soda and cheap perfume. He was the king of the greasers, but tonight, he felt more like a caged animal.

With a firm grip on your wrist, he tugged you closer, his leather jacket creaking slightly as he moved. His eyes searched yours for a hint of agreement, and you nodded, a silent understanding passing between you. You'd had your fill of the party, too. The plastic cups and the sticky dance floor had lost their charm hours ago. His hand was warm and firm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the night outsider.

With a sense of relief, you both ascended the curved stairs, leaving the party's din behind. The steps creaked underfoot, echoing through the quiet house like whispers of a secret shared only between you. His room was at the end of the hall, a sanctuary from the chaos. The door creaked open, revealing a space that was a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the party—dimly lit, with a single bed pushed against the far wall and a small desk by the window. The air was heavy with the scent of leather and something faintly musky, all him.

Dallas stepped closer, aggressively smashing his lips into yours. It was a kiss that didn't ask for permission—it demanded it. His tongue slithered past your teeth, and you could almost taste the rebellion that danced in his veins. You responded in kind, eagerly, as your bodies collided like two stars in a fiery embrace. His hands roamed over you, claiming every inch of your body as his own. You felt alive, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

You could feel your pussy throbbing, begging for his touch. The anticipation was palpable, a pulsing need that seemed to resonate with every beat of your heart. His hands trailed down to your waist, the heat from his fingertips burning through the fabric of your dress as if it were nothing but tissue paper. The sensation was exquisite, a sweet torment that had your knees buckling and your breath hitching in your throat.

"I want this dress off," Dallas growled, his voice low and possessive. It wasn't a question, but a demand, a declaration of his intentions. Your hands fumbled with the zipper at the back of the dress, but he was too impatient to wait. With a swift, decisive movement, he yanked it down, the teeth of the zipper whispering against your skin. The dress pooled around your feet, leaving you standing in nothing but your lacy lingerie, your breasts heaving with every shallow breath you took.

He stepped back for a moment, his gaze raking over you like a physical touch, lingering on the curves of your body that the dim light painted in shadows and silhouettes. His grin was feral, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. "Damn, you're fuckin' beautiful," he murmured, the words a caress that sent shivers down your spine. You felt exposed, but not vulnerable—his praise was like armor, wrapping you in a warm embrace of confidence.

With a swift, almost violent movement, Dallas pushed you onto the bed. The mattress squealed in protest, but the sound was lost in the symphony of your gasps and his hungry growls. His weight pinned you down, his body a delicious pressure that made you arch into him. You could feel his erection straining against his jeans, a promise of what was to come, pressing into your stomach like a hot brand.

Dallas's mouth found its way to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. He sucked hard, leaving a bruise that bloomed like a dark flower under his lips. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that made you gasp and clutch at the fabric of his shirt. His hand slid under your bra, cupping your breast, his thumb flicking over the hardened peak. You moaned, the sound a soft whimper that seemed to inflame him even more.

You couldn't help but reach down, your hand sliding over the slickness of your thigh to the apex of your legs. Your fingers found your clit, a tiny bud of desire that pulsed under your touch. You began to circle it, the pleasure spiraling through your body like a tornado. Dallas noticed, his eyes darkening as he watched your hand move between your legs. "Show me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Let me see how badly you want it."

With trembling hands, you pushed aside the lace of your panties, revealing the slickness that glistened in the moonlight. His eyes widened, and he groaned, his own arousal palpable. "Fuck," he whispered, the word a benediction that sent a bolt of lightning straight to your core. You moaned again, louder this time, as your fingers danced over your sensitive flesh. The sound seemed to unleash something in him, and he reached down to rip your panties off with a ferocity that was almost frightening. But you weren't scared. You were alive, more alive than you'd ever felt before.

His hand replaced yours, his thumb taking over the delicate dance. The roughness of his skin against yours was electrifying, a jolt of energy that made your toes curl and your back arch. His touch was sure, confident, like he'd been born to do this—to own your pleasure, to wring every ounce of it from your body until you were nothing but a trembling mess beneath him. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze a silent promise of what was to come.

Then, without warning, Dallas leaned down, his mouth claiming your clit with an aggression that made your eyes roll back in your head. His tongue was a whip, flicking and teasing, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through you like a tsunami. He didn't hold back, didn't gentle his touch. He licked you like he was devouring you, like he'd die if he couldn't taste you. And when he spat, the wetness of his saliva hit your sensitive flesh with a force that made you buck against him, your body begging for more.

But every time you tried to push closer, to grind against his face, he'd pin your hips down with a firm grip. It was a delicious struggle, a battle of wills that had your muscles tightening and your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You were so close, so achingly close, but he wasn't going to let you come—not yet. His teeth grazed your inner thigh, the sharpness of the sensation making you squirm, making you want to scream.

"Dallas, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered, your voice high and needy. The words were a plea, a surrender, a declaration of war.

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Come all on me, baby," he said, his voice a low, seductive purr that sent a bolt of electricity straight to your core. "I want to taste you."

You came out all on him, he licked all your juices up until with one swift motion, Dallas was on his feet, his jeans and boxers pooling around his ankles. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, jutting out from his hips like an accusation. He stroked it once, twice, a silent promise of what was to come. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching as he pumped himself with a practiced rhythm that had your mouth watering and your pussy clenching.

The sight of him touching himself, knowing you were the reason for his arousal, was too much. The need to feel him inside you was a wildfire, burning out of control. You whined, a desperate sound that seemed to come from some primal part of your soul. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming urgency of your desire. "Dallas," you pleaded, the word coming out as a breathy moan. "I need you."

He chuckled, the sound dark and rich like the finest whiskey. "You fucking needy, aren't you?" he said, his voice low and smug. But there was no mockery in his tone, only a deep, primal satisfaction that you were begging for him, that he had the power to make you feel this way. He climbed onto the bed, his cock bobbing with every movement, and positioned himself between your legs. With one hand, he guided himself to your entrance, the blunt tip of him nudging against your slick folds. You could feel the heat of him, the promise of everything you craved.

You whimpered again, the anticipation a delicious torture. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, your voice a trembling whisper. You'd been with boys before, but none of them had ever made you feel like this—none of them had ever filled you up so completely that you thought you might just shatter into a million pieces. And as he pushed inside you, the head of his cock stretching your walls, you realized that none of them ever would.

"Shit, you're tight," Dallas grumbled, his voice strained with effort. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the scream that was building in your chest. It burned, a white-hot ache that was almost too much to bear. But you didn't want him to stop. You wanted him to keep pushing, to keep filling you up until there was no space left for anything but him.

And then, with a final thrust, he was fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush against your own. You gasped, your nails digging into the sheets as you adjusted to the delicious fullness. For a moment, he just held still, savoring the feeling of being inside you, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed with the effort of restraint.

Then, as if he couldn't take it any longer, Dallas began to move. His hips rolled into you in a rhythm that was both slow and brutal, a dance of lust that had your eyes rolling back in your head. He leaned down, capturing your mouth again in a kiss that was as fierce as the storm that raged outside. His teeth grazed your lower lip, making you whine into his mouth, the taste of blood mingling with the flavor of his tongue.

As he kissed you, his hand found your neck, his fingers wrapping around the slender column of your throat. He didn't squeeze, not yet, but the pressure was there—a constant reminder of his strength, his dominance. You could feel your pulse throb against his fingertips, a wild staccato that matched the tempo of his thrusts. His other hand slid down to your hip, his grip tightening as he began to move faster, harder, pounding into you like he was trying to claim you in the most primal way possible.

And then, as if the gods themselves had willed it, his mouth left your neck, traveling down to your chest. He took your left breast in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before sucking hard on the nipple. You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the sensation a delicious agony that had your nails digging into his back. His other hand moved to your right breast, his thumb flicking over the peak in a teasing counterpoint to the fiery kisses he was bestowing on its twin.

With every touch of Dallas's fingers trailing across your bare skin, chills danced down your spine, setting your nerves alight. His hands were a maelstrom of sensation—his thumbs tracing lazy circles around your areolae, his fingertips grazing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, sending waves of heat crashing through you like a summer storm. The anticipation was unbearable, a sweet torment that had you squirming beneath him, your hips rising to meet each punishing thrust.

Then, as if reading your mind, his thumb found your clit again, his touch a masterstroke that had you gasping for air. The pressure was exquisite, a perfect symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate with every beat of your racing heart. His eyes never left yours, the dark hunger in them a mirror to the desire that consumed you both. You could see the triumph in his gaze as you began to unravel, your orgasm building like a crescendo in a rock 'n' roll song, the tension tightening with every stroke of his cock.

The heavy throb in your stomach grew with each passing second, a storm of need that had your legs shaking uncontrollably. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your breath coming in ragged pants that seemed to echo through the silent room. It was as if the entire world had stopped spinning, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of lust and desire.

And then, without warning, it hit you—the orgasm that had been building, coiling tighter and tighter, like a spring ready to snap. You screamed his name, the sound raw and uninhibited as it tore from your throat. Your body arched off the bed, your back bowing like a bow drawn to its full extent. The pleasure was like a white-hot knife slicing through you, leaving you trembling in its wake.

But Dallas wasn't done yet. As your climax rippled through your body, he pulled out with a wet pop that made you whine with the sudden emptiness. He took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back his own release. And then, with a snarl of pure, primal need, he painted your chest with his cum, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. It was a declaration of his own, a brand that marked you as his.

"Oh, Jesus," Dallas sighed, plopping down on the side of the bed, his legs splayed out in front of him. His cock was still rock-hard, a testament to his unbridled passion. He watched you, panting and trembling, your skin flushed and your eyes glazed with satisfaction. You were a vision of debauchery, a greaser's angel sprawled out on his rumpled sheets.

Your body was a canvas of desire, your breasts heaving with every breath, the nipples still hard from his attention. Your legs were spread wide, the remnants of your orgasm painting your inner thighs like an erotic Pollock masterpiece. And your pussy, swollen and glistening, begged for more of the attention it had just received. Dallas couldn't help but admire the way you looked, the way you reacted to his touch. It was like watching a fire burn—beautiful and destructive.

With a gentle tug, he pulled you closer, his body spooning yours as he wrapped the covers around you both. The warmth was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and you couldn't help but melt into him, your curves fitting perfectly against his hard planes. His cock was still nestled against your ass, the slickness from your arousal leaving a sticky trail between your bodies. His arm was like a steel band around your waist, his hand resting on the soft mound of your stomach, his fingers idly playing with the wetness that still lingered.

"You did so good for me, baby," Dallas murmured into your ear, his voice a warm caress that sent shivers down your spine. He kissed your temple, his breath ghosting over your skin as his lips moved to the sensitive spot behind your ear. You shivered, the tender gesture making your heart swell with affection. His teeth grazed the lobe, sending a jolt of pleasure that had you tilting your head to give him better access. His kiss was firm, a brand of possession that had your toes curling in the sheets.

You felt a lazy smile tug at the corners of your mouth, your body boneless and sated in the aftermath of the explosive passion that had consumed you both. The room was quiet now, save for the distant sounds of the party that had long since faded into the background. The storm outside had passed, leaving only the occasional whisper of the wind to serenade you as you lay in the cocoon of his arms.

[the-fat-raccoon]

🌌 astro-gnomey Follow

Some of you don't want to hear it but at some point we're going to HAVE to acknowledge the effects of storm sorcerers (and keiromancy as a whole) on the environment. The wizard council has been pushing for regulations on these practices for years due to its large ecological effect on the realm, and yet it still stays unregulated because of misinformed petitioners who insist on preserve this harmful practice.

x x x

🌬 420haz3it Follow

hey ops ex here. they literally went through my family's tome of spells and destroyed every page that contained keiromancy. spells that were in my family since the Wizardry Renaissance, that saved towns from floods and droughts alike, are now lost to time and space

also as people in the notes pointed out all of those links are blatant misinformation that ignores what storm sorcerers have done to protect not only their local communities but the environment as a whole for centuries, and the people who spread this information are the exact same people who advocated to repeal the wishing star protection act.

hating keiromancy has always been a distraction so astrological mages can push for more unsafe practices in their own field. don't let them lie about their intent, and don't let the wizard council rush the process to earn an astromage liscense.

🪄 tradmage12 Follow

Being from a family of storm sorcerers puts a direct line from you to the Great Calamity that wiped out our magic for a millenia. You deserve to lose that tome and every last spark of magic in you.

🌬 420haz3it Follow

what

🌬 420haz3it Follow

theres no way youre serious. you dont actually believe that.

🪄 tradmage12 Follow

We all know it, the Great Calamity would have never happened if the sorcerer faction had listened to the wizard councils orders and steered clear of dragon hunting. But they didn't listen, and everyone suffered because of it. Don't act like there's no reason to not trust your kind with their own practices. You just can't help yourselves.

🌌 astro-gnomey Follow

I leave for the Berry Harvest and come back to this mess, really funny how you'll mention me taking action against your family's evil dark spells but don't mention that you only dated me for your weird gnomeplay fantasies. Also pay attention to the language used, very Anti Mage rhetoric being spread. What else would you expect of a storm sorcerer, of course they want to keep their powers, I'm going to shut off reblogs if people in the notes cant see how they're being manipulated by keiromancers. Quit trying to be 'progressive' when you just want to keep ruining the course of nature and keep down the mage class.

🌬 420haz3it Follow

get me off this fucking lichsite. there is no 'anti mage rhetoric', that's not a fucking thing. mages aren't some repressed class no matter how much you want to pretend that, they haven't had to deal with magical restrictions since before the great calamity even happened, meanwhile sorcerers to this day are still fighting to be seen as magical equals.

and while im at it 'keiromancers' is a made up term to put all weather magic users under one umbrella, as if forms of keiromancy arent so diverse amongst the realms that you cant even begin to compare them. it is not the same as saying necromancers. dont even start that bs.

also, gnomeplay is perfectly normal and acceptable between consenting partners, which we were, so idek why you bring that up. if i as a half elf want to have gnome partners theres literally no issue with that, youre mad because gneillielle has a more bountiful gourd harvest and far more whimsical tunes than you ever brought to our relationship.

storm sorcerers have done nothing wrong, you're the problem.

perhaps some shadow work could unlodge the staff youve got stuck up your cap and you could see the filthy fuckign system youre supporting as an astromage, im sick and tired of this.

🎱 claire-vances-fourth-eye Follow

op starts posting untagged wizard council x reader failed abjuration content in a year btw

5,482 notes

[onomatopagu-et-cie]

Some other theories and observations, part 2

First impressions after re-reading DGM Some theories and observations, part 3 Notes on Link, part 1 & part 2

Have a nice week!! The end of summer is right around the corner and it’s still melting me…

(SPOILERS UP TO CH248!!!!)

▶ Bookmen’s « lineage »

Why was Lavi given 49 aliases/names when Bookman has none (at least, none that we know so far)? Does the name mark the apprenticeship? How does this even work? We know there are many Bookmen or sympathizers (just like Neah, actually) in DGM’s universe and they help each other when it’s needed, but we know so little about them!

Out of all the groups in the story, be it families or clans, the Bookmen are the only ones that the story specifically qualifies as a blood relationship, unlike the others. At the beginning of volume 13, Road uses ‘chisuji/血筋’ (lineage, blood relationship, descent ; the kanji for blood, 血, is a component of the word) to define the Bookmen:

The rest of the cast is defined with a clanic/familial notion that doesn’t specifically require a blood relationship:

➔ The Noahs are defined with ‘ichizoku’/一族 (family, relatives, household: ‘zoku’/族 is the kanji for tribe, clan, band, family). ➔ The Luberrier are also described by Lavi in the manga with 一族, but also with ‘ke’/家 (house, family), just like the Chang (I couldn’t find it for the Epstein, but it might also be ‘ke’), and ‘kazoku’/家族 (family, and as ichizoku, 族 is one of its components). ➔ When Luberrier qualifies Hevlaska’s crime against her own family/tribe (it’s highly probable she is a Luberrier herself), he uses ‘douzoku’/同族 and ‘ichizoku’.

The Bookmen stand out with this sole occurrence. I wonder what this really means, because the Bookmen were introduced as a group definitely not related by blood, formed through apprenticeship. And if I’m not mistaken, Hoshino even hinted at the importance of the Bookmen ties in one of her recent ig posts… ? It might even have a connexion to Lavi’s concealed eye, who knows!

▶ « Lavi »

In ch119, Lavi and Bookman have been associated with wheat or barley, overly present in the Campbell mansion landscape.

If Hoshino really pushes the wordplay between multiple languages, « spring » also refers to the coil or screw/helical shape in english, which is interesting since the recent chapters focus on the helix magic explained by……. Past!Allen!

(Lavi could also be a reference to 'la vie' which means 'the life' in French /jk idek at this point haha)

▶ past!Allen

(I’m thinking about that ‘past!Allen was a Bookman’ theory again haha)

Somehow after transplanting Neah’s memories in him, past!Allen became in the former’s eyes « a crazy puppet », as he said in volume 21. past!Allen was someone whose affiliation to the Innocence was beyond imaginable to Neah: once Neah learns his present self wishes to be an exorcist he deems him as his enemy. This is very poor reasoning, but the only characters revealed to have ‘sided’ with the Noah in the manga are Bookmen until the present war broke out or some time before. We also know Bookman lost one (or more) successor(s) before Lavi thanks to Sheril’s threats (« you don’t want to lose another successor again, right? »).

And the « again » is accentuated in the original version (the panels on the left):

When Tyki reports to Sheril what happened and Bookman overhears it, it’s as though he had prior knowledge from an unidentified source of what would trigger the history they were meant to record as Bookmen (the panels on the upper right). « An Innocence called Apocryphos… The departure of Allen Walker… » sounds as though he’s listing off ‘early signs’ finally announcing an important event is about to occur.

Could it be that someone/something had foreseen this? Or had already experienced this before them in another timeline or world? In addition to the ‘other world’ the Noah once lived in according to Cross, dream!Bookman insisting on the fact Bookmen live outside of the world (in ch119, the last panel on the bottom right), Allen and Lenalee’s dreams and the constant imagery of the world being nothing but a stage actors play on, it’s tempting to think there’s a timeline distortion/alternate universe or whatever plot line going on in this story.

It’s also interesting to note that for an unknown reason, Wisely interrupted Bookman’s questioning and refused to reveal whatever he read in his mind (eg. Road’s relationship to Neah), as Tyki reveals it in ch225:

▶ « Howard Link »

Compared to the third generation exorcists, who began as Crows just like Link, why is Link the only Crow to have a last name? If I’m not mistaken, Hoshino doesn’t use the Japanese naming order (family then given name) eg. Allen Walker, Cross Marian. So Link’s first name would be Howard.

In Link’s flashback in volume 21, Tewaku called him « Lin-niisama » (could this hold some significance in the manga later on?):

Was his first name Lin? I don’t believe Tewaku would call him by his last name as a child. If it’s the case, why would they swap his first and last name later? Or were the Crows ordered to call each other by their last names, since the flashback seems to happen when they became Crows? Is Link’s first name important somehow?

Before becoming a Crow, was his name Lin, not Link? Or was it just an affectionate nickname given by Tewaku? Where did Howard come from?

Or did they have no name at all or no name they could remember, like Red?

I was always under the impression that Link was his first name for some reason, I was a little silly haha

Aside from Tewaku, the only moment the third generations interacted with Link was when Goushi accidentally hurt Allen. Unlike Link, who calls them by their name, Goushi here mentions Link by his full name and title in quotation marks: « Inspector Howard Link ».

I don’t really know what to make of it. The formality would be pretty normal as their functions as Crows call for it, but it still seems weird to me as the 3rd generations call each other by their name.

Perhaps some distance gradually came to form between Link and them (eg. their training as Crows that seems really harsh and impersonal, or the influence of the Akuma cells)? (It also could be that Goushi was visually impaired, and recognized Link by his voice!)

Also when Tewaku cries for help, she asks for Madarao, Tokusa, Goushi and Kiredori but not Link.

▶ Artificial Exorcists Arc parallels

The artificial exorcists were, in retrospect, pseudo-Noahs created by the hands of humanity: they were given great regenerative abilities and a predestined role, to become exorcists in this war. The Order forced on them previous existences from which they would gain the ability to synchronize. But the memories of their previous lives threatened to overwhelm them, affecting their mind and senses, the Order would then deem them as ‘failures’. With the third generation, they intended to perpetuate these abilities for generations but Alma’s hatred was too deeply rooted.

There are also visual parallels between Kanda, Alma, Mana and Red/Neah:

Allen’s current situation also parallels Kanda’s past anguish with unknown memories flooding his head and the fact that both Alma and Mana were alive was hidden to them.

▶ Influence exerted through hands (TW: child abuse and domestic violence)

(Now I’m expecting a flashback from Link’s pov of the operation to instill Crow’s ability to cast magic with this kind of hand imagery, it would be interesting)

The hand is also accentuated in two other pages when Apocryphos attempts to merge with Allen:

There were also these panels in volume 27 (my stomach churned when I searched them again for this post)… The last two panels fill me with pure disgust, I turned these pages really fast because that was too much.

Hands can convey many messages and symbols like that in the way they’re framed, the ones above are drawn by Hoshino in a way that inspires horror and abuse.

In DGM, sometimes they’re a symbol of connection (eg. Allen and Suman, Johnny and Allen), sometimes a symbol of influence, control and violence.

Violence was also represented in other ways:

-> In Lenalee's past:

When Lenalee remembers her past, the Order and the Crow’s uniform is a symbol of her suffering: the personnel’s faces are obscured, contrasting with their outfits.

It’s the same when she remembers the experiments that forced victims into Fallen Ones. Their hand grasping the boy as well as the boy’s waving her are also highlighted. The profusion of the scientists and executives’s comments and orders, represented by bubbles gradually taking all the place, desensitized and disconnected to the cruelty of the experiments we see depicted behind it.

Luberrier’s figure in the page on the right is the only face with distinctive features she remembers, concentrating her fears.

(And ironically, Lenalee’s Dark Boots feel very heavy and could be a symbol of all her fears and hatred shackling her: they empower her but at the same time weigh her down emotionally. Her scene with the head nurse giving her her boots destroyed me ;;;;;;;;;;;;;)

In the Destruction of the Black Order arc, the ghost even forgot her name, but the memory of the experiments along with (supposedly) a Luberrier dragging her by force remain.

Luberrier and Link’s introduction in the manga also represent them with their teeth highlighted:

-> The experiments on Kanda and Alma were often visually associated to the Innocence and the Crow’s silhouettes. When Kanda and Alma are chased by Crows, the focus is on their hands: they emerge from the dark to cast binding spells. Just like Lenalee remembers Luberrier, Kanda remembers the horror of the experiment with Sirlins Epstein baring menacing teeth.

-> The cage which is also mentioned in the Lost Fragment of Snow novel:

I said it in a previous post, but the manga My Hero Academia also does it and it’s gutting. Hands are represented as vectors of both violence and sympathy/love.

(SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE MHA SERIES!!!!!)

Three character arcs illustrate this poignantly: Eri and Overhaul, Tomura and All For One (he literally embodies this image as it’s part of his character design and powers), and the Todoroki family and Endeavor.

[syyskirjat]

Okay I’m reading the pronunciation/transciption appendix now

The Westron or Common Speech has been entirely translated into English equivalents. An Hobbit names and special words are intended to be pronounced accordingly: for example, Bolger has g as in bulge, and mathom rhymes with fathom.

Not gonna lie, I have always pronounced these wrong. I guess it’s just me being influenced by Finnish a bit too much.

K is used in names drawn from other than Elvish languages, with the same value as c; kh thus represents the same sound as ch in Orkish Grishnákh, or Adûnaic (Númenórean) Adûnakhôr.

There's something kind of interesting to me about this choice and what it says about Tolkien's associations. Latin style spelling for Elvish while everybody else gets... well idk, I feel like kh tends to be used to transcribe that sound in non-Western European languages?

Although k of course is used a lot in Northern Europe (including Dutch and German and even English).

(This got a bit long so the rest is under a cut)

L represents more or less the sound of English initial l, as in let. It was, however, to some degree 'palatalized' between e, i and a consonant, or finally after e, i. (The Eldar would probably have transcribed English bell, fill as beol, fiol.) LH represents this sound when voiceless (usually derived from initial sl-). In (archaic) Quenya this is written hl, but was in the Third Age usually pronounced as l. 

So I unfortunately don’t know much about the Celtic languages but I know Tolkien studied them and was inspired by them and this is where I think that shows? Based on what little I do know about like Irish spelling. And of course the voiceless L as its own sound rather than an allophone of voiced L.

NG represents ng in finger, except finally where it was sounded as in English sing. The latter sound also occurred initially in Quenya, but has been transcribed n (as in Noldo), according to the pronunciation of the Third Age. 

This is another interesting choice because I feel like if Noldo was spelled Ngoldo it would immediately look non-European.

R represents a trilled r in all positions; the sound was not lost before consonants (as in English part). 

You can tell Tolkien is a linguist because he says “before consonants“, because of course it doesn’t fully disappear (even in non-rhotic dialects) if it’s followed by a vowel.

The Orcs, and some Dwarves, are said to have used a back or uvular r, a sound which the Eldar found distasteful. 

Sure, the Eldar found it distasteful, not you of course...

RH represents a voiceless r (usually derived from older initial sr-). It was written hr in Quenya. Cf. L. 

I’m not entirely sure what sound this is supposed to mean? I assume a non-sibilant voiceless alveolar fricative? I have to admit, I don’t think I’ve run into that kind of sound before. Apparently it appears in some English accents as an allophone of t?

The use of the circumflex in other languages such as Adûnaic or Dwarvish has no special significance, and is used merely to mark these out as alien tongues (as with the use of k). 

... weird but okay.

The groups er, ir, ur (finally or before a consonant) are not intended to be pronounced as in English fern, fir, fur, but rather is English air, eer, oor. 

So my instinct is to assume that the ur has the same vowel as the u described earlier (with the same u as in brute in English) but the pronunciation of oor seems very inconsistent in English and depends heavily on the accent so idek.

Is it like poor or like door? Or neither? And if it is one of those then according to which accent? Or is it just IPA [ur] which would make it consistent with the er and ir?

In Dwarvish, which did not possess the sounds represented above by th and ch (kh), th and kh are aspirates, that is t or k followed by an h, more or less as in backhand, outhouse. 

Ooooh this interesting actually. So I assume this means Dwarvish has a distinction between aspirated and unaspirated plosives?

[torubeth]

suna rintarou headcanons

why, you ask…cuz i miss him. and i’m not doing so well after dat one shot. honestly idek wat dis is, jus stuff which i wholeheartedly believe ig ? :>

love language : physical touch. his hands are always hanging around your waist or thighs. subtle touches and small kisses from him are everybody’s essentials.

favorite places to kiss : literally everywhere but mostly on the neck, nose, lips, thighs, shoulder and did i say neck ?

nicknames he’d call you : angel, princess, baby, babe and he’s definitely the type to call you cringe names just to piss you off.

his type : he’d go for anyone. that’s it. all he needs is someone who’ll match his vibe, someone who’ll understand him. the quirky, cocky, sarcastic, daredevil personality is his top tier. although he finds the quiet ones cute. at the end of the day, anyone. (cuz y’all are jus *chefs kiss*!!)

you’re gonna tell me the guy’s a smoker ? yeah no. he’s the cool guy who declines it whenever he’s offered.

the type of person to think that making cereal is a talent. and honestly, i agree with him.

his camera roll is full of pictures and videos. of you. the storage definitely exceeded its limit, and he has to upgrade it but he just believes that no storage can contain all the stuff because he’ll just keep on taking them. with no regrets.

his playlist : the type of playlist that gets you hooked from song one. he’d have banger songs. mostly underrated ones. slowed version ? yes, slowed version. it’s his thing. and your playlist is on repeat and oh, y’all’s spotify blend ? constantly played it’s illegal.

he’s a tsundere. not that he isn’t all olaf around the team and your friends. as soon as it’s just the two of you, he’s putty in your hands. absolutely, devastatingly adorable. so very soft, and he sleep mumbles, not sleep talk. every time you thread your fingers through his hair, your voice nothing more than a whisper, his thoughts pour out like rain. it ranges from ‘i’m so lucky to have you baby’ ; ‘fuck, you’re beautiful you know that ?’ ; ‘you have really soft hands’ ; ‘i could stare at you all day- no, forever and never get bored’ to ‘for some odd ass reason, i ship our history teacher and chemistry teacher. do you ?’ ; ‘baby, dick has so many synonyms, i’m jealous’ ; ‘atsumu and osamu fighting is like two gorillas competing for a rotten ass banana’. he’s a talker only around you, and you could listen to him all day, everyday.

if you’re the type to throw on mismatched socks, don’t worry, he does too, we don’t judge here. ‘socks is socks right ?’ he quotes.

sneaky kisses are his favorite. skipping practice to go make out with you ? sign him up.

kisses with him aren’t rushed. it’s the one where each kiss has a very deep meaning to it. like he wants you to know what he’s thinking.

is such a fucking tease, it’s frustrating. but is also the one who’s very needy for your attention. see how the tables turn ?

bullying atsumu about him being single is something you’ve both found amusement in.

midnight drives ? midnight drives. he’ll text you around the wee hours of the morning and ask you to join him for a drive, which you obviously don’t decline. playlist blasting in the back, your head hanging out the rolled down window, screaming the lyrics to your favorite song. cheap store candy wrappers are everywhere, a bottle of water, for which the cap’s already missing and you’re both arguing on who has lost it, the small engine sounds in the background. one more memory added to the album in his storage.

walking home from school, he likes to take the long route so he could be with you just a bit longer. hands intertwined, kicking small rocks and pebbles which is in his path, ears on alert, always listening to you, the quietness of the evening is all something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

conclusion : an amazing boyfriend, amazing human being, who i’m very pissed isn’t existing in this world.

[usertoxicyaoi]

its. the way. before vegas makes his presence known macau is just sat at the table but he just looks so ... down. and miserable. and somber. idek but his entire body language? just screams like he's zoned out and in his own world where he doesnt feel so .... lost? out of place? even though this is his home and all these people around him are bodyguards employed to protect him as the second and youngest son. he should feel spoilt and special. no. he just looks so distant.

and then. and then. oh. vegas comes and makes his presence known. and LOOK at how they BOTH light up. the way they genuinely smile at each other. hold and touch each other. vegas literally shakes macau out of his stupor and the way he's just so genuinely invested in macau's day. his well-being. and how macau all of a sudden just feels like he belongs and feels pampered and he looks up at vegas with so much. love and adoration and fondness. bc like. vegas is truly his anchor here. the additional fact here also being them two just speaking to each other in english bc thats /their/ thing. just theirs. and its like. macau knows, just like vegas, that they're each other's only family, but they love actually just Being Brothers and hanging out with each other. its not a burden or doing it out of compulsion.

so can you. like. imagine. when vegas was at the safehouse. how out of place and lonely macau must have felt? even thinking about it makes my heart hurt.

[ljxlj48]

A Racer’s Heart

Preview

F1Driver!Jeno X Reader X F1Driver!Jaemin

Genre: love triangle, co-workers to lovers

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: none yet

Authors Note: netfilx recently released season four of formula 1 drive to survive, so that is where the inspiration came from. Idk where this is gonna go yet and Idek when I’m gonna release it. But lmk what you guys think. Hugs and kisses to anyone reading <3333

————————

Formula One (also known as Formula 1 or F1) is the highest class of international racing for open-wheel single-seater formula racing cars sanctioned by the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (FIA). The World Drivers' Championship, which became the FIA Formula One World Championship in 1981, has been one of the premier forms of racing around the world since its inaugural season in 1950. The word formula in the name refers to the set of rules to which all participants' cars must conform. A Formula One season consists of a series of races, known as Grands Prix, which take place worldwide on both purpose-built circuits and closed public roads.

You started working with the NCT team as a paid content creator. Meaning you just followed them around taken footage to use to post on their social media. Now you are the public relations manager, this was gonna be your first season as PR manager. Almost your fourth season with the team though. And of course this is a big season for NCT, they’re in the running for winning the constructors this season.

NCT had two perfect drivers, both on their fourth season with the team. Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin, both drivers, performed amazingly last season. NCT had only lost the constructors championship by 15 points last season, which is the closest they had gotten in over the 8 years of being in Formula 1.

The first race of the season was set to happen this weekend. Jaemin and Jeno were already going through testing in Bahrain. You had just arrived at the paddock in time for the drivers press conference. Jaemin was set to go first, he would be accompanied by the Mclaren’s Norris, and Ferrai’s Leclerc.

-

“I have a question for Jaemin,” the reporter raising his hand started off, “NCT is expecting their first constructors, should we also expect you for your first drivers championship this season?”

Jaemin laughed, he had this dazzling smirk displayed, “only time can tell. We’re just gonna race one race at a time.” Perfect, Jaemin gave a respectable answer, that should not cause any controversy.

You gave a small thumbs up to Jaemin, to which he responded back with a smile. You stayed for the rest of the press conference, in which Jaemin was perfect at every question. He kept his answers short, didn’t disrespect anyone, used all the proper language. You thought if everyone else could do the same for the rest of the season, your job is gonna be easy.

-

Now it was time for Jeno’s press conference, he was joined by Mercedes’ Russell, and RedBull’s Verstappen. “I have a question for Jeno. Your contract is up at the end of the season, are we gonna see some seating changes?”

Jeno laughed, “isn’t it a bit early,” he spoke with a tone of disbelief. You cringed at his responses, he wasn’t wrong but you feared how the reporter would explain what he says, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know yet to be bluntly honest. Me, and my team are aware that my contract is up at the end of the season, but we haven’t begun contract talks yet. We’re just here to race and win this weekend.” You let out a breath at Jeno’s explanation.

He almost gave you a heart attack with that, but you looked at the reporter and he seemed to take Jeno’s answer nicely. You reminder yourself to have a talk with Jeno, that no matter how stupid the question is, we need to answer in the nicest possible way.

-

It was Sunday, race day. You stood in the paddock staring at one of the screens watching both boys line up for the race. Jeno had P3 and Jaemin was P4. Either boys finished as high up as they wanted but P3 and P4 was a good starting place.

1

2

3

4

5

“And it’s lights out in Bahrain,” the announcer said through the tv screen. Jeno had a good start, easily pulling away, gaining an early lead in the race. Jaemin ended up falling behind to P6.

You sat on the edge of your seat watching the two boys, your heart pounding in your chest. You, Jaemin and Jeno all started with NCT during the same season. The three of you came in all wide eye rookies in your own respective fields. Now you guys are nearing the top.

You didn’t care who won the race as long as it was one of them. As long as it was one of your boys that held the trophy, you were gonna be happy.

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Second Year

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind​ / @abimess​ / @stephanieromanoff​ / @yourtaletotell​ / @tomy5girls​ / @justagaypanicking​ / @thegayw1tch​ / @idek-5​ // @myperfectlovepoem​ // @helloalycia​ // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao​ / @aimezvousbrahms​/ @ensorcellme​/ @helloalycia​

//-//

You missed the train in your second year.

You and Tony overslept after staying up late watching a television series, and Jarvis mentioned that he had to pick up some packages from your father at the Ministry of Magic, so he wasn't home to wake you up or take you two to the station.

It was already half past eleven when you both woke up.

"You lost your mind." You said to your brother as you watched him put your school luggage into the trunk of the muggle car your father had bewitched. Tony laughed, ignoring your protests.

"We can drive there, and then I'll charm the car to come back. No one will know."

"We could wait for Jarvis to come back too." You retort but Tony denies it.

"Jarvis will be at Mystery all day, you know how bureaucratic these orders from daddy are." He argues. "Come on, it'll be all right."

Things were not all right.

Tony couldn't control the car after you guys arrived on the Hogwarts grounds, since the magical barrier destabilized the entire muggle structure of the vehicle.

"That shouldn't happen." He grumbled as the car began to vibrate and its image became almost frosted before it returned to normal. 

"Tony, we're falling." You said, and your brother tried to pull the steering up, but the car did not obey.

A loud noise later, and you two landed hard against a tall tree. The Whomping Willow.

"I should have known that the Starks would think they can do anything in this school." Said Professor Erik Lehnsherr as soon as you were rescued from the top of the Willow, and taken to Principal Harkness' office.

"We're sorry, Professor Lehnsherr" You asked while your brother just clenched his jaw at the provocation. You nudged him in the ribs and he crossed his arms, apologizing afterwards.

"Sorry I'm late Erik, we're having some problems in the greenhouses" Principal Harkness said as she entered the room, she smiled at you and your brother, her posture was friendly and good humored, very different from the other man in front of you. "What was the immeasurable problem that you mentioned?" she scoffed lightly and Erik cleared his throat before speaking.

"The Stark siblings arrived at the castle in a magically enchanted muggle car, Headmistress." He narrated and Agatha blinked in surprise. "They broke at least three hundred laws of the institute of International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and on top of that, they caused the damage to the Whomping Willow, which has been at the school since before they were born!"

"Wow, that's pretty serious." Commented the teacher, and Erik frowns in surprise at her tone. "Tell me, what spell did you use?"

Tony blinked in confusion, the principal was not angry. She was just curious. Before he could answer, however, Professor Erik let out an exclamation.

"Agatha, they broke the law and..."

"Are you the principal, Erik?"

"I... No, but..."

"That's what I thought." She interrupts with a sharp smile. "Give them some punishment, I don't know, a month's detention, those things we do here."

"Agatha, I think..."

"That's all, Erik, thank you."

Professor Lehnsherr looked as shocked as you. The principal waved with a smile at you as you left the room in company with the professor.

"Starting tomorrow, boy, you will be in detention with me every day." Announced Erik sternly to his brother. "And you, girl, I will discuss the conditions of your punishment with the head of your house and you can be sure I will tell him everything that happened in that garden." 

You and Tony swallowed dryly, intimidated by the menacing posture of the adult in front of you.

"To your dorms immediately." He ordered, and you walked side by side to the stairwell.

//-//

"I can't believe you did that!" Gamora impressedly remarked as soon as you joined her at the Slytherin table the next day, Nebula and Mantis by her side.

"Everyone is talking about it now." Nebula added as she ate some cereal. You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked around. There really were curious looks being cast at you.

"It was an accident." You said. "The car wasn't supposed to break down."

"It was dangerous and irresponsible." Rebutted Nebula without looking at you. "Typically Gryffindor, so my opinion is that you are walking around with Quill too much."

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly.

"Hey, soon I'm going to start thinking you're from Slytherin, punk." Announced Tony as he approached the table, Steve and Bucky behind them. 

"You wish." You teased lightly. Noticing the quidditch uniforms, you bit the inside of your cheek. "Do you have practice now?"

"No, we' re just going to play a little bit." He says. "There's really nothing to improve here."

Steve and Bucky laugh at Tony's cocky statement, and you roll your eyes, smiling a little.

"You're so full of yourself, aren't you, Tony?" Steve says afterwards.

" That''s just facts." He retorts, reaching out to steal one of your toasts. "See you later, kid."

After they leave, Gamora looks at you.

"Did you tell him you're going to try out for the team?"

"No." You reply with a chuckle. "I want it to be a surprise."

//-//

The following week, tryouts for the quidditch team were being held at the stadium, and all the team captains, including the Flight teacher, James Rhodes, were present. 

He arranged the students in rows, and when Steve Rogers saw you he smiled encouragingly, waving. Tony walked over to you, equally excited.

"Pesty, why didn't you tell me you were going to take the test?" He asked as he hugged you quickly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as your classmates looked at you two with curiosity.

"It was a surprise." You retorted smiling and Tony messed up your hair before walking back with the other captains.

"We'll start with trios among everyone, and then separate you by houses." Announced Professor Rhodes with a smile. "Good luck everyone."

Your first trio were two students from Gryffindor that you didn't know. You would have liked to have taken the test with Peter, but he took the test with Pietro Maximoff, who had a wicked grin on his face, and almost knocked Peter off his broomstick when they were flying together. You grimaced angrily, and Wanda Maximoff glared back at you, as if daring you to do something against her brother. You rolled your eyes, and tried to pay attention to your own test. 

"Hey, could you try to stop that bludger for me to throw?" Asked the short boy who was from the trio you were facing. He was from Hufflepuff, and his name was Peter Parker, but you actually never met him, and you only knew his name because the blond Ravenclaw girl in the stands was cheering him on.

"Sure, i got it." You said waiting for the bludger to arrive. You blinked in surprise when the object changed course in the air. The bludger wasn't going to mess up your test, or hit any of your friends, but on that course, it was going to hit Pietro right in the back. You sighed, hesitating. Then you shouted, "Yoy, Maximoff, look out!"

Pietro blinked in surprise at your warning, and managed to duck at the last second. You didn't look at him again.

Next, your partner was Peter Quill, thank goodness. He smiled charmingly at you riding beside him, and you nudged him slightly.

You were going up against two other students who looked older, but neither you nor Peter were intimidated.

"Come on brat, you don't want to embarrass your brother, do you?" taunted one of the boys as you prepared to hit back the bludger coming from Pietro's direction. You barely thought about it, and shot back, hitting the boy who had provoked you right in the chest.

He let out a sharp exclamation of pain, and fell backward. You blinked in fright, and dove in with the broom, grabbing him by the cape just moments before he hit the ground. You let go of him next, the boy had a pained expression as he massaged your chest. But he looked annoyed at you next.

"Pay attention to your surroundings." Said someone next to you. You looked up to notice Professor Rhodes looking at the two of you seriously. You swallowed dryly, flying away afterwards.

You made it to the Hufflepuff team. Your brother smiled contentedly, waving to you as he greeted Wanda, who also made the Slytherin team.

After the Quidditch tryouts, you had a few classes, and then your first detention.

You were going to help the elves with the castle services, and were almost glad to know that you didn't get the same detention as Tony: cleaning the greenhouse.

In the second week, one of the elves asked you to seek a special concoction from Professor Lehnsherr, so you walked to the potions room.

"I am so disappointed with you, girl." You heard a male voice say from inside the room, the door ajar. For some reason, you hesitated to enter. "I told you before, you can't lose control. That puts everything at risk."

"I'm sorry, papa." Mumbled a female voice, almost tearful. "It won't happen again."

You raised your hand to knock, not wanting to be nosy. But the door opened in front of you. Professor Erik Lehnsherr had his hand outstretched in the air, and you swallowed dryly, feeling your cheeks flush.

"What do you want?" he asked angrily and you shifted your weight between your feet, recognizing Wanda in the room. 

"S-sorry to interrupt professor." You said. "I am looking for the cleansing potion for the elves. You know, for my detention."

Erik let out an impatient sigh.

"Maximoff, you can go." He said to Wanda. She nodded, ducking her head as she turned around. She glanced quickly at you as she left, but looked away when you stared back at her.

You left the room several minutes later. A package with several potions in it lay on your arm.

Whistling softly, you tried not to be intimidated by the dank, dimly lit corridors of the dungeon, but you were quite disturbed when you heard a noise.

You bit your lip, deciding if it was worth investigating. Leaving the package in the corner of the hallway, you drew your wand, walking toward the metallic sound.

As you turned the corner, you froze. A few meters ahead of you in the hallway was a troll. Metal chains on its hands and feet, the sound of them echoing down the hall.

But he was quiet, practically motionless. His reddened eyes sent shivers through your body.

You looked down and gasped.

Wanda had her arms raised in the air, and you saw her standing behind the creature, red magic escaping from her hands.

"W-what?" you found yourself whispering in confusion and then the monster's eyes flashed and he roared, the sound echoing loudly in the halls.

Wanda fell to her knees next, her hands returning to normal. You moved as the monster reacted again, enraged.

He was slow, so you dodged his attack easily, turning around. Before you could cast any spells however, there was a magic field around the monster.

"Return to your dormitories immediately, girls." Ordered Professor Lehnsherr with his wand raised. "I will control the creature." He was facing the troll, focused on his containment spell. You were annoyed because he didn't even look at his daughter.

You ran to Wanda, helping her to her feet. She blushed at the gesture, then thanked you. You took one last look at the monster before walking out into the hall.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked once you and Wanda were alone.

"Yes, I... "She started and then widened her eyes, turning to you and pushing you by the shoulders. "You can't tell anyone what you saw!"

You frowned in confusion.

"Easy, there!" You exclaimed pushing her hands away, "You don't have to hit me."

Wanda sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"Just...please don't say anything to anyone." She ordered, in a much calmer tone now. 

"Merlin, it's okay." You retorted putting your hands in your pockets. "I don't understand why you don't want to tell something this cool, but okay."

Wanda blinks in surprise.

"Cool?"

You smile shrugging your shoulders.

"Sure. You did magic without a wand, that's amazing."

Wanda looks after you for a moment, her cheeks reddening.

"Don't you think it's scary?" She asks and you frown.

"What, of course not!" you assure her. "You can make as many pranks as you want and no one will ever prove you did it." 

Wanda smiles shyly at your joke, and then looks away.

"I promise I won't say anything, Wanda." You tell her and she sighs, nodding.

"Do you have any idea where the troll came from?

"No." She says. "I was walking back to my dorm, and I ran into him. There was no one else in the hallway." 

You make an understanding noise with your mouth, not quite understanding how the creature escaped from the castle dungeons.

You walk in silence to the corridor leading to the Slytherin dormitory.

"Well, here we are... I'll see you tomorrow" You say half-heartedly. Wanda smiles as she waves goodbye and you walk back to your common room.

None of you notice the figure hidden between the shadows and the purple light around the walls.

//-//

You begin to notice new things after your short conversation with Wanda.

The way the students at school talk about her is one of these things.

In a single day, you hear at least ten cruel comments about how quiet, mysterious and scary Wanda was. A lot of people at school thought that she and Pietro were some kind of evil twins, because nobody ever saw their mother, and there were rumors that maybe Professor Erik Lehnsherr had made them in one of his cauldrons. 

You didn't tell your friends what you saw that day, but you tried to bring up on the rumors you heard, and Gamora let out a giggle.

"People make a lot of things up here" she said while you were in pairs in Herbology class. "As far as I know, the Maximoff's mother is a muggle and that's why so many people in our house treat her that way."

You couldn't tell why these things were bothering you, since Wanda wasn't even your friend, but you guessed it was because you had always learned to hate the whole blood purity thing, since your father was a pureblood, but he married a muggle, and suffered a lot of hatred from the witch community that called him a blood traitor for years. You had a certain natural sympathy for Wanda now.

When Halloween came around, you ate too much candy, and your stomach hurt. All your friends were the same, and you decided to bet on a ghost race, a mixture of catch one, catch all and hide-and-seek through the castles.

You were being the ghost when you saw Peter Quill sneaking down one of the corridors, and you rushed to follow him, but then you heard a whistle, and you stumbled to hide quickly, and ended up falling on someone.

"Sor-Wanda!" You started to apologize but when you realized who you had bumped into, you exclaimed the witch's name awkwardly. "S- sorry" You hurried to say, feeling your face flush when you noticed her gaze on you. You stood up quickly, reaching out your hand to help her up. "Everything okay?"

"S-sure." She said smiling, and then she looked down. Your hands were still together and you quickly let go as soon as you noticed, feeling your face heat up.

"Err... you didn't see a Gryffindor boy walking by here did you?" You asked trying to lighten the mood, and looking around."I'm playing Ghost Race."

"This is a children game." She teased with a smile and you looked at her in surprise, blushing even more.

"I... I’m...."

"I'm just messing with you." 

"Oh, right." You sigh laughing lightly as Wanda follows you. The sound of her laughter makes your stomach turn, and you don't understand why, so you clear your throat and say you needed to get back to your friends.

"See you around, Hufflepuff." She says as she says goodbye. You try to focus on finding Peter after that.

//-//

Quidditch is as fun as it is stressful.

You eventually discover that Steve Rogers was extremely competitive when playing against your brother.

Slytherin's game with Hufflepuff was scheduled in three weeks, and he was already making the whole team practice the rehearsed plays daily.

After another exhausting practice, you sighed as you flew toward the empty bleachers, four seats occupied only by your friends.

"Do you have to chew so loudly?" Complained Nebula to Peter Quill as he ate a piece of apple pie that he probably saved from lunch. The boy made a face, shrugging.

"I can't wait until we can go to Hogsmeade." Gamora commented a moment later. "We saw the third year kids go out last weekend, when you were playing explosive snap with all those older gang."

You smiled as you took off your Quidditch gloves.

"That "gang" are Tony's friends, Gamora." You explained and the girl shrugged, looking almost jealous that you had other friends, making you smile.

"That Romanoff is scary." Mantis added and your friends nodded, making you laugh.

"Natasha may seem threatening when you first meet her, but I assure you she is a sweetheart." You hit back and then steal one of the mini apple pies that Quill brought. "By the way, I wanted to invite you guys over for Christmas. Tony is calling all his friends."

Mantis and Quill seem excited about the invitation, but Nebula and Gamora exchange a look.

"Look, I'm happy with the invitation, I really am." Gamora began. "But we can't accept it."

You look at them with confusion, finding it amusing in the seriousness.

"Why not, girls?"

"It's just... Your family..." Gamora mumbles trying to find the right words.

"They are blood traitors." Nebula adds seriously. Quill and Mantis both widen their eyes, and Gamora lowers her gaze in shame. You feel your stomach turn in irritation.

"I beg your pardon?" you retort angrily, but Gamora puts her hand on her sister's forearm, asking her to shut up.

"We like you, Y/N, you are our friend." She says. "But our father, he would never allow us to go to Howard Stark's house, not after what he did."

You let out a short laugh.

"And what exactly he did?" you retort, already gathering your gloves and broom from the bench. "What a horrible crime to fall in love with someone isn't it?"

"Please, we didn't mean to upset you..." Gamora starts but you huff in irritation, riding the broom.

"I can't believe you were thinking that about me and my family all this time." You interrupted angrily, shaking your head in disbelief. You flew away the next moment, toward the ground, intending to return to the castle.

//-//

You hadn't talked to Gamora and Nebula for a week. It was weird eating at the Hufflepuff table again, but at least Mantis and Groot kept you company. Quill seemed torn about choosing a side, but you teased him that he could stay with his girlfriend without thinking that you would no longer be friends, and he turned red as he walked over to the Slytherin table for coffee.

At the weekend, the quarterfinal game of the Quidditch championship took place, and you could barely eat properly at breakfast in anticipation.

Mantis wasn't much into quidditch, but she dressed in your house colors and knitted a little yellow sweater for Groot as well.

"Ready to play with me, kid?" Teased Tony as soon as you stepped onto the field, the Slytherin team on the opposite side. You smiled confidently, nodding.

"Attention, players, I want a fair game." Warned Professor Rhodes, who was also the judge of the match. "Mount your brooms and ascend into the air please."

In the air, your gaze met Wanda's, and you smiled slightly, but she just glanced away, appearing upset. You didn't understand why, but you didn't really have time to ask.

And then the whistle for the start of the match sounded.

Being a beater was especially tricky on cloudy days, because you couldn't see the ball clearly with the dark background of the sky, but you had enchanted your glasses before you set up, so you were doing a decent job.

It was during the second half match that you almost died.

Loki Odinson was the seeker, and he was almost reaching for the golden snitch when you looked at him. Your job as a beater was to keep the bludger away from your teammates, and to precisely prevent Loki from catching the snitch. You aimed the bludger at Loki's broomstick, to destabilize him, and it worked. But he didn't take it very well. 

Flying toward Erik Killmonger, the Slytherin beater, he grabbed the stick out of the boy's hand, and glared at you angrily before firing the incoming bludger right at you.

You managed to dodge it for a second, frowning as you looked back at Loki. But he had a mean look on his face, and before you could understand what happened, something hit you hard in the head, and you fell off the broom.

As you fell, your eyes grew heavy, and the last thing you saw were emerald eyes, accompanied by Tony's scream.

//-//

Your head hurt a lot when you woke up in the nurse's office.

Healer Cho smiled gently at you when she gave you some water as soon as she noticed that you had woken up.

And then you noticed the other curious faces around you.

"Will she get a cool scar?" Quill asked excitedly only for Gamora to slap his arm next. 

You fiddled uncomfortably with the bandage on your head. Tony looked at you worriedly.

"Damn it, don't ever do something like that again." He complained and you looked at him with confusion.

"It was your mate who shot the ball at me." You retorted and he sighed.

"Yeah, Loki is an idiot." He retorted angrily. "If Thor hadn't interfered, I would have broken his nose."

Then you found out that as soon as you fell, the game was stopped and everyone went down to the field. Tony tried to fight with Loki, but Thor stopped him, and all the teams almost started beating each other. You were taken to the nurse, and Professor Rhodes disqualified the Slytherin because Loki used non-verbal magic to bewitch the bludger to attack you. Even though you were angry, you were impressed that a twelve year old boy could do such advanced magic.

"Good thing Wanda reached you before you fell." Tony added after telling all. You felt your face heat up, and Gamora noticed and looked at you curiously. You decided to change the subject quickly.

"What are you two doing here anyway?" You asked snidely looking at them. "Since when do the health of blood traitors matter to you?"

Tony blinks in confusion, but Gamora takes a step to the side of your bed.

"We wanted to apologize for that." She says. "Our father is the one who thinks those things, okay? You're our friend, and we don't think that of you. Or your family"

You looked away from Gamora to her sister. Nebula nodded in agreement a moment later, and you bit one inside cheek before sighing.

"Right." You said trying to smile. "Can I go back to eating with you two then?"

Gamora laughed, agreeing. When you tried to laugh, your head hurt and your exclamation of pain attracted Tony's attention.

"You know what, I forbid you to play Quidditch forever."

"Shut up, you idiot." You retort, smiling.

//-//

Thanos won't let Gamora and Nebula spend Christmas with you, but that's okay. You ask Iron to deliver the gifts to her house with the pseudonym "Apple Pie" in the name, and received their response in thanks a few days later.

All of Tony's friends come to your house during the holiday.

Bucky goes on a joke saying that his brother spread all those mistletoes around to get some action, but you don't understand what he means.

There is a new kid named Sam Wilson in your brother's group of friends, and he becomes one of your favorite people quickly. He is very funny, and makes everyone laugh during dinner.

Quill almost knocks the tree to the ground when Bucky agrees to charm his shoes to fly, and everyone laughs when he gets hung up on the decorations. 

Your father arrives just before you cut up the turkey.

He is covered in soot, and looks exhausted. But he smiles and kisses you and Tony on the forehead, saying he will clean himself up before joining you.

"Can the little guy eat food?" Howard asks when Groot walks around the table. Mantis seems shy about explaining anything to your father, making you chuckle.

During the gift exchange, you giggle when Tony and Bucky start playing wrestling and Bucky miscalculates the punch time and hits your brother in the nose, who behaves like a crying baby, even though he has no mark on his face.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face on the carpet in the living room next to all your friends. 

Without having any clue about the worried look your father exchanges with Jarvis a moment after everyone falls asleep in the living room.

//-//

When you return to Hogwarts, there are many new announcements on the bulletin board that catch your attention.

You are not sure if you will really have the time, but decide to sign up for the dueling club with your friends.

This is how you end up in the main hall after the last potions period. The wooden tables had disappeared, and in the center you would find a large golden stage. Professor Stephen Strange was beckoning students to spread out across the room when you arrived.

"Come on dear, come closer" Professor Stephen asked the crowd, standing on the stage. "Can you all see and hear me? Good."

Professor Stephen spent the next five minutes explaining that the club was back in activity after some teachers had talked with Principal Harkness, and also spoke about the basic rules for participating and dueling correctly. Soon the students were all divided into pairs. As the crowd organized itself, you noticed the Maximoff brothers in the back of the room, and you looked away quickly when Gamora, who was your partner, caught you staring.

"Let's practice the disarm spell." Announced Stephen next.

It was easy because you already knew. Your father, in the few moments he was home, taught defensive magic to you and Tony. Spells were not your brother's strong suit, but he didn't mind helping you practice.

Gamora smiled impressed when you approached her to demonstrate correctly how to make the movement with the wand.

Your colleagues, however, didn't seem to be making much progress, so the teacher interrupted their practice with a whistle.

"I will demonstrate how to use the disarm spell correctly." He says as he takes the stage again. You exchange a look with Gamora when by your proximity, you hear him mutter that if the students paid attention to his lessons they would know how to duel correctly. "Please, Erik, could you assist me with this lesson?"

Professor Lehnsherr had been quiet throughout the practice, watching the students from afar. He did not smile as he walked on stage, his silver wand in his hand.

"Pay attention, please." Strange asked noticing the buzz that arose as soon as Erik took the stage. "Thank you, Erik."

The two professors got into a dueling position, and then Professor Stephen made a motion with his wand. A white glow escaped through the air towards the other man, but Erik made a quick movement with his own wand, and it was as if he absorbed the spell. You recognized the blocking spell easily.

"It is important that you know how to defend spells during a duel." Professor Stephen then spoke, smiling quickly at Erik, who did not reciprocate. "That could save your lives in a situation where you don't know which spell has been cast on you.

"It might be wise to teach the students some counter attack spells, Professor Strange." Added Erik with a slight challenge in his voice. Professor Strange didn't seem to mind however, smiling at the crowd.

"Great idea, Erik!" he said putting away his wand. "I need two volunteers, please."

A lot of people raised their hands, making Strange give a chuckle.

"I think it's best to choose students who won't turn the other one into a frog during the duel, professor." Lehnsherr commented bitterly, and Stephen sighed, running his gaze around. He smiled when he looked at you.

"Stark, would you like to join in?"  He asked gently, and you felt your cheeks flush as all eyes in the room went to you. Nodding shyly, you stepped onto the stage. "Who could your opponent be..."

"May I suggest someone from my own house, professor?" Interrupted Erik next, and without waiting for an answer, he turned around, "Wanda, come up here please."

The crowd erupted in hubbub as soon as the words echoed in the hall. But Wanda didn't hesitate, rushing to obey. You swallowed dryly, stepping forward.

"Great girls, let's start then." Said Professor Stephen smiling standing between you and Wanda. You didn't understand why she was looking at you so seriously. "Let's try the finite Incantatem, shall we?"

You and Wanda nod in agreement and the professor smiles, patting you two on the back to get you moving.

When you reach the dueling position, you raise your wand and wait for the teacher's order.

Wanda attacks first when he signals. And you just defend, which makes Professor Stephen give a little smile.

"Stark, remember to counter attack instead of defend, okay?" He asks and you nod, ignoring the stares at you. Wanda has a neutral expression as you get into a dueling position again.

A bright red spell comes at you as Wanda attacks again, and you have a second to think about fighting back, but hesitate, blocking it again. The crowd lets out a chorus of disappointment. 

Professor Stephen looks ready to say something, but it is Erik's voice that fills the room.

"The Stark girl is clearly hesitating to fight back the spell, Professor Strange." He says, and you feel your cheeks heat up, looking down at the floor. "Perhaps she should try to attack Wanda first instead."

Stephen exchanges a look with the other professor, and then turns his head toward you.

"Is it okay if we do it this way, Stark?"

You glance at Wanda quickly before nodding, feeling very nervous all of a sudden. "Let's get started then."

Raising your wand again, you take a deep breath. Wanda also gets into a dueling position, her eyes watching your movements. You swallow dryly, and think of the least offensive spell you know. And you say the words.

Nothing happens. 

Your wand lets out a small golden sparkle, and you frown in confusion. Some of your classmates laugh, believing that you have failed to cast a simple spell, and you feel your face heat up.

"I..." You start to say, wanting to apologize.

Professor Lehnsherr steps forward next to his daughter, looking at you curiously, but his tone is severe when he says.

"Again."

You ignore the stares and try again. It doesn't work. Your wand simply doesn't obey you. Feeling frustrated, you repeat the spell again. And again, louder this time. Your classmates seem as curious as you are.

Professor Erik moves around the stage, stopping a few feet in front of you.

"Try it against me now."

"Professor, I don't..."

"Now."

You swallow dryly, and aim in his direction. Ignoring the tremor in your hands, you repeat the same incantation. The magic immediately escapes, the golden glow rushes forward. Erik blocks it masterfully. A mixed look of curiosity and displeasure.

You immediately lower your wand when he takes two steps toward you.

"I don't know what happened, professor." You begin to explain quickly. "I don't..."

"Erik." Warns Professor Strange placing himself in front of you. All eyes on the three of you. Professor Lehnsherr forces a smile, which brings chills down your entire spine. 

"I'm just curious, Stephen." Said the other man, putting his wand away and raising his hand to smooth the professor's cloak in front of him. "Just innocent curiosity."

"Let's continue tomorrow night, please. " Professor Stephen announces in a loud voice afterwards. The students begin to move quickly in the hall. You want to ignore the feeling that everyone is talking about you as you come down from the stage. Your gaze immediately seeks Wanda, but she has her head down as she joins her brother, leaving the room quickly.

Gamora is very impressed when you join her.

//-//

"And then nothing came out of her wand!" Gamora told your friends impressed as soon as you were all together at breakfast.

You woke up feeling especially tired that morning, and were eating your cereal lazily.

"That's so weird." Nebula commented. "Do you have any idea why you can't bewitch Wanda?"

You deny it, eating a little. You got a lot of looks this morning, and you were getting pretty upset about the whole thing.

"Maybe it's because you like her." Gamora suggested a moment later, and you choked on your cereal.

After Mantis helped you, you took a deep breath, your cheeks flushed.

"Where did you get that from?" You asked annoyed. 

"I just meant that you seem to like her." She said with an insinuating smile. "Like a friend."

Gamora's tone clearly suggested something more, and you grumbled, turning your attention back to your cereal.

When your friends began to theorize about what the whole thing could possibly mean again, you stopped paying attention.

//-//

Tony laughed when you told him.

"I've never heard of anything like that, kid." He said as he took the scarf off his neck and threw himself on the couch in common room.

Technically, you couldn't be here. But it wasn't like people respected those rules anyway. 

You didn't come to the Slytherin common room much, because it was cold and empty, and Slytherin students weren't very welcoming to visitors. 

But Tony had many different classes than you, so you would only find him in the commons room by the end of the day. After you dismissed a free-flying session with Quill, you went to tell him what had happened at that morning.

"If you had joined the club, you would have seen it." You said straightening your position on the leather couch. Tony laughed.

"As if I was going to be a part of that." He scoffs. "I hate charms, you know that."

"You know it's one of the most important subjects, right?" you retort wryly, and Tony shrugs.

"I won't need that when I study Magic Mechanics with Dad."

You sigh, not wanting to talk about it again. Tony wanted to be like your father. A respected mechanical witch inventor. You didn't like the idea because it meant that Tony would be as absent as your father.

"Hey, why don't you try to figure something out in the reserved session?" He suggested next and you looked at him wryly.

"You're an example of a brother, you know that?" you teased making him laugh.

"Hey, if you're careful, no one will know you were there." He retorted and you sighed thoughtfully. "If you get caught, I'll say I dared you to do it."

"I doubt it." You retorted with a smile. 

Tony invites you to a game of wizard chess, but you tell him you need to get back to your dorm before some prefect comes to question you.

On the way out, you bump into someone who shouldn't be there either.

"Sorry." You say immediately, and Pietro looks at you curiously.

"Are you here to talk to Wanda?" He asks snidely, but although his tone is accusatory, his eyes are warm.

"What?" you reply confused, "No, I...I came to see my brother."

Pietro doesn't seem to believe you, crossing his arms.

"What's your deal with my sister, anyway?"

You frown in confusion.

"I don't know what you are talking about." You say uncomfortable with the conversation. 

Pietro stares at you for a few seconds, and then his expression lightens quickly and he smiles amiably.

"I'm just messing with you, kiddo." He mocks. "By the way, I never thanked you for that day at the Quidditch test. If you hadn't warned me, I wouldn't have made it as a seeker."

You blink in confusion and then smile awkwardly.

"No problem, Maximoff."

You nod in farewell, walking back toward the Hufflepuff dormitory, not noticing that Pietro continues to stare at you until you turn the corner.

//-//

The next morning, after your spell class is over, you tell Mantis to go ahead, because you want to talk to the professor.

"This is about the dueling club, isn't it Stark?" Professor Strange asks abruptly still with his back to you as he fiddles with his desk before you say anything. He turns around then, his expression slightly concerned. 

"I was just wondering if you have any idea why my magic didn't work, sir?" You say with your hands in your pockets. "Everyone at school is talking about it."

Stephen sighs, and he seems to hesitate about something. But then his expression softens, and he smiles.

"Don't worry about it so much, okay?" He says. "Maybe it's just the similarity of the core of your wands. If the material is the same, maybe your wands are sisters and won't harm each other."

You believe this for the first two seconds, but then frown.

"But Wanda was able to cast spells on me sir." You say and Stephen widens his eyes slightly, as if he has been caught lying. He clears his throat quickly, amiably smiling at you as he nudges you out of the room with him. 

"I'm sure there's a good explanation for this, but I don't have the answers right now, Miss Stark." He says and you have a frown as he is turning around, walking away down the hallway. "See you next class!"

You sigh, realizing that maybe your best chance to know what happened is Professor Erik.

//-//

Your next potions class isn't until midweek, so you try to do a little research in the library as Tony recommended you to do.

There is almost no material on magic connections in the library's common session, and you figure it's because it's an advanced and dangerous kind of magic.

"You know you could end up expelled if you try to take anything from the restricted session, right?" Gamora comments as you are sitting in the library, dozens of books around you as she helps you investigate. 

"I'll try for a permit first." You say with your face propped up in your hands. "If no teacher is going to tell me why this is happening, I'm going to have to figure it out on my own."

No teacher allows you into the restricted session. They justify that a second-year student has no reason to read such advanced magic, but you just feel that they all seem willing to stop you from finding out what is going on.

You plan to sneak in then. After the last period on Tuesday, and as soon as the library is empty, you ask Gamora to help you distract the librarian, and while she does so, you sneak between the shelves.

You look back to check that everything was all right as you enter, and almost fall backwards in fright when you bump into someone. Your heart races with fear when you observe Principal Harkness right in front of you, a curious look on your face.

"P-professor?" You exclaim. "I'm sorry! I was just..."

"Sneaking in." She completes with a smile. You feel your stomach sink, but the woman makes room for you to enter. "Come on honey, you don't need that. Make yourself at home."

You hesitate for a second, but then step forward, your curiosity for answers getting the best of you.

Following in the way the head master points, you end up deep in the library, many books you've never seen around you, their covers dark, and mystical, some of them moving on the shelves as if they were trying to break free.

"I heard about your little accomplishment at the dueling club." The principal comments beside you as you run your fingers through the covers. You shrug. 

"Nobody wants to tell me what's going on."

"Does that make you angry, dear?"

You blink in confusion, looking at the woman behind you. She looks back as if she was evaluating you.

"N-no, professor." You say putting your hands in your pockets.  "I'd just like to know what's happening."

Harkness blinks and then looks away. She makes a flick with her fingers, and there is a book flying toward you. It has a dark, medieval cover, and there is a magical shadow shrouding the entire book. It 's mainly scary.

"I found a lot of information about magic connection incantations, dear." She counters. "But it's nothing a second grade girl could understand, you know? Advanced magic for even the most experienced witches."

You frown, wanting to say that if she explained it properly, you could understand it perfectly, but being the director, you thought it best to just add:

"Please, professor. I just want to know what's going on."

Agatha smiles, and then puts the book back on the shelf, her eyes have a purple glow that makes your body chilly.

"Don't you understand, dear?" She starts by stooping down to your height, her hand caressing your cheek lightly. "You came in here, and flipped through the books. So many words you didn't know. You found nothing." She says and you see flashes in your head, her words taking shape like a memory. "And when you left, it just stopped being important."

Agatha smiles at you as she rests her hand on your shoulder for a moment, and you face her back. Giving her one last look, you walk in the direction you came from. 

When you leave, you only remember what you have been allowed to.

//-//

In potions class, you feel a tingling behind your eyes when you see Professor Erik. 

You have the feeling that you want to ask him something, but can't remember what it is.

Gamora mentions that maybe you wanted to know about what happened at the dueling club, but you smile as you deny it with your head, telling her that that story wasn't really that big of a deal.

She frowns slightly, but doesn't insist, believing that you had lost interest in the subject as well as the rest of the school.

//-//

You don't do very well on your Transfiguration test.

If you had to find an excuse, you would say that you haven't felt very well since the dueling club. Your magic has been difficult to shape and control. You don't want to think about it, though, so you just study until everything is back to normal again.

Professor Rocket gives you an "Acceptable" though, and you grumble slightly when the results arrive at your house during the vacations.

You write to your friends over the summer, sharing the results of your assessments. Gamora did well in everything, her grades as perfect as Nebula's. Mantis failed in Charms, but got Brilliant in Herbology, and surprised no one by that. Peter had at least three "troll" grades, and Gamora sent him a chocolate cake to make him feel better.

The week before last, there was a big commotion at the Ministry of Magic, and your father was away from home for three days.

Jarvis didn't let you and Tony run to hug him when he arrived, and before you could protest, you noticed that he had apparated in the house garden accompanied by two other wizards you didn't know.

No one seemed willing to tell you what was happening, and when the wizards left, your father locked himself in his office for the night.

Tony was very upset, and said he wanted to be alone in his room. 

"Jarvis, will you tell me what's going on?" You asked the butler when he put you to bed, worried that you were going to stay up waiting for your father. Jarvis sighed, sitting up with you. 

"Miss Y/N, there are many things that are not concerns for children." He begins, and you sigh impatiently. The man smiles gently at you. "It may not seem fair, but innocence is a privilege of the few."

"I just want to know why dad and Tony are upset." You complain with your arms crossed, not understanding the man's previous words. Jarvis fluffs your pillows, pulling the blanket to waist height. "Please, Jarvis, tell me."

The butler sighs.

"Just know that there are people in our world who don't have the best of intentions." He explains mysteriously, causing you to frown. "But that's not something for you to worry about, because the adults have taken care of everything. Now, go to sleep miss."

Jarvis reaches out to turn off your lamp next and stands up. You sit in the dark for many minutes before you decide to fall asleep.

[takamikeiigos]

Title: You Came Back to Me

Rating: Mature (nsfw - minors dni)

Relationships: Hawks x Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3

i swear i didn't forget about this!!! i was very hesitant to post this chapter for the sole reason that there isn't much content, it's mostly circulated around emotions and the need for hawks and y/n to be close to eachother (ft. recovery girl momming tf out of keigo)

basically its a filler chapter? kinda??? idek

anyway sorry for the month-long delay, hope y'all enjoy

He sleeps for all of two hours that night.

He's stirred awake against his will, the lingering memory of a nightmare marring the back of his brain. His skin feels tacky - covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his breath rattles unevenly in his lungs.

Keigo sits up, quiet and careful enough to not rouse you from your sleep. He scrubs a hand through his hair as he stands, brushing strands from his face, and let's out a shaky sigh.

He throws on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that he'd left discarded on the bedroom floor and grabs his phone from the nightstand, only looking back once to ensure that you're still fast asleep.

○○○

When he arrives, she's a little disgruntled that he woke her up at three o'clock in the morning, but guides him into her office with welcoming arms.

She sits him down on a stool, pulling one forward to sit across from him. Even while sitting he still towers over her small frame, yet the little old lady in front of him has harbored enough power to heal hundreds of students and heros for years.

"Hawks," Recovery Girl - Chiyo - says to him, urging him to speak up. She's never been one for bullshit, especially in the wee hours of the morning, but he appreciates her straightforwardness and low tolerance, nonetheless.

"Right, it's uh.. my shoulder."

His words come out rough, his throat suddenly dry, and he averts his gaze from hers, his brows furrowed.

She huffs out a sigh and scoots forward, latex gloves on her hands and ready to go. She pauses and looks at him expectantly. He just stares back at her in child-like confusion.

"Hawks, dear, I know you got shot in the shoulder, but I've known you since you were this tall," she motions toward the ground, her hand waving a few feet from the floor, "you are anything but fragile. So take your shirt off, please."

He jumps to it, guilt washing over him because he knows he woke her up early. He should have just listened to the medic earlier, then he wouldn't have had to rouse her from her sleep to help him pick up the broken pieces of himself. And his shoulder wouldn't be bothering him as much. And maybe he'd actually get some decent sle-

"Hawks, dear," she repeats, again, looking up at him in concern. His shirt is discarded on the floor behind him, a few feathers still making their way to the ground around it. There's an abundance of them, though, and he hadn't even realized that he'd shed that many. He stares down at them in confusion, and then looks back up at Chiyo as if she holds the answer.

"They've been coming loose ever since you walked in the door," she says to him softly, resting her palm on his knee, "what has you so troubled, Keigo?"

He smiles a bit when she uses his given name. Knowing that she's one of the few people he can trust with everything brings him ease.

He stares off into the distance, trying to piece everything together. It makes him laugh a little - the fact that there's so many emotions that he needs to sort through, yet he hasn't had a care in the world to do so.

"I lost a part of myself," he starts, trying his best to keep his breathing even. "When I lost her, I lost a part of myself..

And there's so many emotions that I don't understand. Or maybe I do understand them, but I just refuse to accept them. It feels like I'm in a fucking.. I dont know.. a fucking matrix-"

"Language, child," Chiyo scolds him softly from where she tends to his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed she'd started.

"Sorry.." he mutters, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm just tired, granny. I wasn't taught how to deal with these things. I was just raised to be some weapon for the commission to use for clout and ratings. My feelings were never a part of the deal."

She frowns deeply at him as she removes the packing in his wound, and he hisses in pain, trying not to flinch away from her helping hands.

"And do you think that's true?" She asks him, curiously. "That you're just a weapon?"

He squints down at her for a moment, as if trying to figure what she's getting at before he provides her with an answer. She just stares at him expectantly.

"I don't know.."

"Yes or no, dear?" She prompts him again.

"No! No, I don't. I.. I don't." He blurts the words out, almost hesitantly.

"Then why are you so stuck on torturing yourself, hunny? Your whole life you've been through so much," she whispers to him, tearing open a gauze pad and placing it gently on his shoulder. She gives him a scolding look when he rolls his eyes, but continues on with her choice of words.

"You need to stop denying your feelings, Keigo Takami. You've been through more trauma than most. You can deny it all you want, dear, but it doesn't change the fact that these things happened and that they are affecting you.

You are more than just a tool, Keigo. You're a mentor, a friend, a lover. Allow yourself the peace of accepting your feelings and learning how to cope with them. Please."

With that she drags his head downward with her two small, frail hands, and plants a big ole smooch on his forehead.

He blushes immediately, absolutely floored by her motherly affection and adoration toward him, still. It baffles him every time. How could she think he was anything worth saving at this point, when all of what's left of him feels like an empty shell.

"Now, now, none of that, child," she pats his head, and he soon realizes he's crying - fat, silent tears rolling down his cheeks and onto the floor. She tilts his head up and pats his cheek, offering him a hopeful smile. "You're a strong boy. Remember that."

○○○

When he gets back to your shared apartment, it's nearly five-thirty in the morning. He comes through the front door, same as how he left, having opted to keep the bedroom windows closed and locked. Just in case.

His shoulder is already feeling loads better, Recovery Girl having kept him for an additional half hour just to monitor him. The bullet wound on his shoulder is slowly closing, as is the emotional void in his chest.

At least for now.

He rubs at his eyes tiredly as he toes the bedroom door open, a quiet yawn falling from his mouth. When he looks up and his vision is refocused, he's surprised to see you awake and sitting up.

He stares at you for a moment, taking it all in, the comfort of you being home and safe and his coming over him.

"Hey," you offer quietly to him, bringing your own arms to wrap around yourself. He watches you intently, trying to read your body language.

You're upset.

He makes his way over to you, sitting down directly infront of you on the bed, his legs crossed. He pauses again, this time really taking the time to absorb your presence, his eyes roaming over your form as if you might dissappear soon.

He brings his gaze back up to yours, and he doesn't understand how you look so tired yet so relieved at the same time.

"I didn't know where you went. I thought.." your words die on your lips, and you shift your gaze downward, focusing on the fabric of the comforter that you have bunched in your hands.

He stays quiet for a moment, then reaches to tilt your chin up, giving you no time to react as he presses his lips to yours. It's more rough than he intends to be, but he can't take the distance between you and him anymore.

You gasp into his mouth and he suddenly feels full of life, his other hand coming forward to rest on your hip. He pushes forward, guiding you to lie back against the sheets as he slots between your legs, his hands roaming to spread your thighs apart and make room for himself.

He pulls away from you to get another read on your expression, and when he sees your tear-stained cheeks and your heaving chest - the soft hiccups that fall from your lips making his ears perk, he almost pulls away entirely in fear that he's hurt you.

But you reach forward and grab a hold of his shirt with one hand, the other wiping the steady flow of tears from your cheeks. You look completely vulnerable underneath him, lying back with your legs spread and wrapped around him.

"Please," you whisper to him, broken, and something in him shatters. Completely falls apart and dissolves.

He surges forward and you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as your lips meet once more.

It's harsh and needy, teeth nipping and pulling, the need to breathe suddenly forgotten and tossed to the side. He breaks away after a short while, opting to trail gentle kisses and love bites down your neck and collarbone. His teeth on your skin don't hurt much, just sting, but it grounds you to the moment as he laves his tongue over the bruises that are sure to blossom.

He sits back to pull his shirt off, discarding it on the floor next to the bed, before doing the same to yours. His mouth immediately latches onto one of your breasts as he pushes you back down onto the mattress, licking and sucking as he fondles the other in his free hand.

Your hiccups have subsided to soft moans and whimpers, and truth be told it's like music to his ears, setting his skin ablaze and making his heart beat just a tad bit faster.

"Keigo, please," you moan loudly as he brings a hand down, his deft fingers leaving a tingling trail in their wake, then finally resting between your legs.

He peaks up at you from where he's latched himself to your right breast, a smirk playing on his lips. Soon enough his hand is slipping into your panties, his fingers grazing your clit just barely, before he's sliding his middle and ring finger into your tight, wet, heat.

You cry out and buck up against him, and he hisses at the same time as you pulse around his fingers, pulling him in more.

"Fuck," he grits out and he pulls his fingers from inside of you and out of your panties. He draws back from you and examines his fingers, which are completely coated in your arousal. It makes his mouth water. You reach forward before he can act, though, drawing his slick-covered fingers into your mouth to suck and lick them clean.

He nearly creams his fucking pants right there.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, not wasting anymore time. Normally he's all about the foreplay. Takes pride in making you cum as many times as he can before he finally fucks you. But right now is different, because there's an electrical crackle of unspoken emotions that hang in the air, and he hasn't seen you for two whole months before this point, and if he doesn't sink deep inside of you to chase down the part of himself that he lost, he's afraid he'll never be able to find it.

"C'mere, baby-bird," he leans in low, tugging your hips closer to his. He slips your underwear up and over your legs and drops them to the floor, before shucking his sweatpants and briefs off hastily. It's rushed and completely uncoordinated, but he's desperate for your touch to the point that his skin feels as though it might combust.

"Are you-"

You cut him off by reaching up and grabbing a handful of his feathers, tugging gently. He falls forward, bracing himself over you as his mouth falls open, a wonton moan falling from his lips as his lashes flutter.

"Keigo, I need you inside of me. Please," you beg him for the last time, and he finally gives in, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and latching his teeth to your pulse point. He brings a hand between your legs to align himself, his cock hard and aching for you, while his other hand comes up to hold the side of your neck that his lips currently aren't occupying.

In any other circumstance, Keigo would be talking nonstop. Filthy words finding your ears and making you quiver.

But this time, when he finally slips inside of you - feeling that first clench of you adjusting around his cock, he buries his face further into your neck with a long, husky groan.

Your hands find a new spot to tangle in his wings, your fingers tugging on the feathers right where his wings spring free from his back.

He snaps his hips forward on instinct and groans once more, completely lost in the feeling of you.

"Keep it up, song-bird," he says lowly, pulling back to look at you. He runs a hand down your chest slowly, rocking his hips ever so gently, and when his fingers finally find your clit, they give it a gentle pinch before pulling away.

He smirks when you cry out and rut against him, your chest flushed and your cheeks still wet from when you were crying earlier.

He isn't fairing much better, his cheeks tinted red as if he's piss-drunk off your touch, his wings now splayed out to their full span as he stares down at you, a primal expression on his face.

You bring a hand down to feel where your bodies are connected and he shudders, holding eye contact as your fingertips brush his cock as it slides into you.

With that he tightens your legs around his waist, giving you a minimum of seconds to prepare for what's about to happen next, before he's planting a sloppy kiss to your lips and pounding into you.

You cry out, your hands reaching out to grab hold of something, and they find themselves tangled in his feathers again.

"Fuck! Babe, I can't-" he gasps out against your lips, and you know he's losing focus as he fucks into you relentlessly. He grips your hips in both of his hands and tries to pull you as close as he can get you, his hold on you sure to leave bruises in the morning.

You cry out suddenly, your head falling back against the pillow as you feel something soft and velvety flicking against your clit. You clench around him again, heat pooling low in your belly from the stimulation of both his dick and the lone feather between your legs, and he moans loudly against your lips as he stares down to where he's fucking into you.

You grab his chin in your hands and he looks at you with wide, lust-filled eyes that make your heart melt.

"I love you," he gasps out, his hips stuttering, the stimulation on your clit faltering along with him. "I love you so fucking much, fuck," he's close, you can tell by the way he's slipping.

"I love you too, baby," you whisper to him, and he kisses your palm where it rests against his cheek. You drag your thumb against his bottom lip and before you know it he's drawing into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. He sucks on it momentarily, then ditches it for your index and middle fingers, instead.

"F-Fuck, Kei, 'm g-gonna-" your orgasm shocks your entire body and you arch off the bed as he continuously thrusts into you, even harder than before, fucking you through it.

Soon enough he follows, his brows pinched and your damn fingers still in his mouth as he moans around them, his cheeks flushed as he spills into you.

You let your fingers slide from his lips, down his chest as they leave behind a trail of saliva, before they come to rest on his abdomen.

He moans again as he continues to pump into you, milking every last drop that he has in him, his eye contact with you never breaking. You hold him close as he comes down from his high, running your fingers through his hair and feathers, his wings twitching from the over stimulation.

His breath evens out after some time and you feel him softening inside of you, to which he begins to pull out. But you pull him as close as you possibly can and he halts his movements, peeking up at you in question. Your expression must say it all, because he plants a kiss to your forehead instead and rolls you both onto your sides, your legs intertwining as he wraps his strong arms around you.

He runs a hand up and down your back in repeated motions, soothing over your skin, and you hum quietly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

"You don't want me to clean you up?" He asks, his voice a quiet whisper against your hair.

You shake your head and nuzzle closer to him, the feeling of his heartbeat through his chest lulling you to sleep. He smiles softly at that and presses one more kiss into your hair, and the last thing you feel before slumber takes over is a soft, plush wing draping over you to keep you warm.

《 requests are open 》

♡ ky

[aardvaark]

it was semi-believable back when there was hardly such a thing as an accessible internet, BUT no one could feasibly have a secret identity as a superhero these days due to social media lemme just. okay. 

we have paparazzi for celebrities, its gonna be 100x more for superheroes realistically. they would have a fanbase online who would clearly want to find out who they are. plus i think c*ps might be trying to find them.

let’s take spiderman as an example. it should have taken a few months at most imo. even though he has a fully body suit, we still have criteria for him

- male (spider*man*, stereotypical body shaping, ‘masculine’-coded voice, etc) - young. age bracket would be about 15-25, and though they wouldn’t exactly expect someone that young, people are going to be lenient with age. and he’s clearly not very old - again, voice, use of language, appearance - primarily english-speaking w/american accent.  - you can get a very accurate height from photos & videos (as we know from that one dude on tiktok), and there is a LOT of media of spiderman - lives in NY - muscular to an extent, athletic physique, somewhat thin. 

ofc you can be like “well that barely helps” but heres some stats.

7 billion ppl in the world.

8.4 million in NY.

4.2 million men in NY (roughly)

504,000 men in NY between 15-24 (about 12% of NY.)

352,800 men in NY between 15-24 whose first langauge is english/would likely have american coded accent (added a bit bc ppl with other langauges may easily still have an american-coded accent like Spiderman’s)

137592 men in NY between 15-24 similar accent height close to tom holland’s (which is current spiderman: 39%)

42654 men in NY right age right height right langauge/accent similar physique (69% americans considered overweight or obese)

38389 ‘’ who do not have a disability which would make it actually not possible for them to do what spiderman has done (note: i still firmly believe anyone could be spiderman, à la the entire movie about Miles Morales and a cartoon pig and a black and white old detective movies guy etc etc, but videos and stuff from THIS specific reality have shown spiderman do certain stunts, walk without aid for long periods of time, etc. this list is not about ‘who can be spiderman’ but about ‘who from his universe could be this person whose superhero identity is spiderman’)

so now we’ve narrowed down 8.4 mil to 38389. just under 0.46% of NY is still eligible by discounting ppl on very basic facts. thats still a whole lot, but its... a significant amount less. now we make some assumptions. 

he’s at an age where he would be at school, college or an apprenticeship. let’s be real, none of those are particularly flexible. you have a new criterion: search for ppl with high absences in education OR absences whenever spiderman is around during the day. its only a little, but its all you need. all you need is access to some school records, and it seems like just about anyone with any interest in tech in the universe spiderman is in, has the skills to break into literally all records ever, so this isn’t even a reach. (peter obviously would have to meet this criteria, plus being ‘lost’ on field trips an awful lot)

another group you would search would be anyone close to tony stark or that works at stark industries, for possible candidates. we know he’s getting tech from somewhere and is seen w the avengers on occasion or where they are. (peter’s... internship... meets this criteria. the fact that its sorta unofficial and unexplained makes it that much dodgier.)

another group is young men of over-average IQ or do ‘intellectual’ things. boys who are really into science, essentially. cause he had to make his suit somehow, he has to be keeping up grades to some extent, he has to be smart to get away w it, he has to manufacture web fluid. you’d search participants in competitions, awards that are handed out to school and college students, scholarship programs for science, etc. (peter does meet this criteria in fact; academic decathalon, science school, high grades.)

so essentially your method would be: 

to go through (students) + (ppl close to stark industries) + (highly intelligent). we can assume a candidate would meet AT LEAST ONE of these points (peter meets all 3). 

file out anyone who isn’t in that, like, less than 0.5% of people who fit his physical description

suddenly you have a far more concise list, of which you can count out anyone who has an obviously different body shape/features/etc which completely don’t coincide with all the images of spiderman

suddenly you have a far more concise list of people to track.

from here, you want to find anything dodgy, like the weird stark internship thing which sorta just got made for peter parker, or ppl with excessive injuries, sick days, etc

AND this is all based on the assumption that no one’s been snapping shots of him while even a small bit of his skin is exposed (eg if he is injured), or that he’s never given any information whatsoever about himself like having an aunt or what colour his hair is or his favourite flavour soup. and that no one has ever followed him home at least a short way.

if we use some of those, then

we would know he’s either white, very light-skinned or has vitiligo (depends how much skin exposed)

we would know he’s vaguely from queens & surrounding area

we could discount people whose favourite soup flavour is tomato or something idek

my point being, it gets narrower and narrower. you’d end up with at most like 30 subjects, who you would monitor and someone might even leak the names. this is just something fans (who don’t care about his safety much) could do, but imagine if you were his enemy and actually had to find him. or stark did it, right? it’s just not particularly hard. i very firmly believe ppl would find him. i dont agree w it, cause tbh i’d rather a superhero keep their secret identity or else they’d get prosecuted and stuff by c*ps, but ppl would likely do this. and this is a superhero whose face we have never seen, much less his skin or eye colour hair colour etc.

tl;dr clark kent needs to fucking step it up my dude

[lovemars]

hm. time to psychoanalyze myself i think. cw traumadumping cw long ass post cw oversharing 😭

the srs cws are talk of sex and stuff but in a sad way not a horny way, sa, men on the internet being gross, bad coping mechanisms, etc

like. idk. i was thinking abt this last night and now im thinking abt it more and like. i feel like. the way i appear in headspace and stuff is just. completely based after. OH MY GOD SOFT BOY CAME OUT? um. sorry it just came on shuffle. ANYWAY. 😭. i feel like how i appear and everything is just based off of like our brain trying to be attractive to- well men mostly. other genders nd stuff but mostly men Specifically cis men. and like. literally none of us actively want to have cis (esp cishet) men attracted to us ❤️. but its like, i know Why like i know its cuz one of my roles is a sexual alter and our brain made us appear the way we do in headspace as part of it trying to keep us safe etcetc WHATEVER i dont care 🫶. like. i literally even- like for instance when we were dating our ex i remember trying to like. be attractive to her and make her like me/us even tho like. i was uncomfortable as fuck and like. i did the same with redacted from irl and just didnt set boundaries at all- no thats not true we definitely did set boundaries. i was just bad at enforcing them- i guess cuz i was like. idk completely lost in this mindset of like, not being able to say no and not feeling safe and feeling like it was my only purpose inguess?

and then like- i also feel like. imean i dont really get the love languages thing but if i had to pick one it would definitsly be words of affirmation and like- i feel like. okay 😭. im not a good person by. whoever the fuck uhh. pat the bunny i think? plays in the background. like for years and by for years i mean ever since 4 days after i turned 18. my thing had been like. posting on reddit . in various subreddits that like, Well the men in them are not very nice to me or to women . and like. i feel like that ties back to the words of affirmation thing cuz i was like intentionally seeking out people who would hurt me (<- which also ties into being a persecutor). and i dont do it anymore because months in the getalong shirt with nik made me feel bad abt it 😭 and then i started to realize that i like when people are nice to me actually. and then i was like Huh maybe tjats not super healthy for me probably. (it is not). well and thats the reason im banned (by nik) from reddit and sex with cis people forever.

but like. 😭 SORRY THIS IS SO LONG. writing a damn novel here. ANYWAYYYY. the whole posting images on reddit dot com -> talk to creepy men on reddit dot com -> intense self hatred and shame -> nik fronts and freaks out and deletes everything -> i feel bad -> i do it again next time i feel like making myself feel terrible on purpose for fun Spiral. like. ive spent all this time gojng down that spiral and now its like. bro i jusr want someone to be nice to me. like i spent ages convincing myself that actually i didnt care abt the shit those men were sayinh & that i liked it and now im like. i literally dont. like. i dont wabt someone ive never spoken to who didnt even say hi or ask what im ok with to say like. waves hand. stuff im not repeating just make up something genuinely disgusting and a bit terrifying and ive probably heard it. and now i dont even KNOW like. what i want i guess. idek my sexuality cuz ive never bothered to think abt what i want cuz i was too focused on what people i dont like/am scared of/etc to think abt how i felt. which in retrospect. bad and scared and. etc.

anyway. idk its just dawned on me the other night how much of who i am is wrapped up in how much i want everyone to like me all thw time and also how much i dont like myself. and like im working on it. and if working on it means thinking about drm from minecraft youtube ******* ** ** ***** so be it i guess 😭. idk man if nik can read dr*amnotnap fic and call it coping i can thirstpost abt drm in my head. idk.

ig im just. now that im able to be more normal and rational and stuff im able to see like. damn i was really bad at dealing with my emotions and tried to do that in ways that were not healthy for me or anyone else. and now all my sense of. who i am is wrapped up in that i guess. which sucks. and im working on it . SLOWLY! but im working on it

tldr: damn this guy should probably talk to a therapist abt all this shouldnt he. well thats okay at least hes hot

[antigonick]

Pauline! Angel! I have a question, a weird one perhaps,, don’t think this is gonna make any sense,, anyway,,, I’m no eng lit student but I wanna study a specific book as if I’m one(?) you know what I’m saying, but I don’t know where to start, what should I annotate etc. I don’t even have specific themes I wanna study, just wanna explore the book itself like for example I wanna study the entirety of The Brothers Karamazov, so what do I do first? I don’t even know what to search on google or reddit or wherever 😭 I know I don’t have to do this but I wanna do this so bad idek why lol I even made a list of books I wanna study but at the same time idk what to do 10000% clueless + currently feeling super silly 😭

No, no, not silly at all, but I just don’t think there’s such a thing as studying the entirety of a book by yourself? As a reader, any kind of reader, you’re bound to notice what you’re familiar with, partial to, knowledgeable about. There’s no universal and unique answer to be found. That’s not to say you can’t learn anything new through the process of interpretation—reading can and will bring things to the surface of your consciousness or into sharper focus. It’s just, you don’t start a book as a blank state, but as yourself: your own network of references will orientate your analytical eye, making it both constrained and subjective.

If you want to read a book “with awareness”, you’ll need a few basic tools (in order to understand how the text is manipulating language to create specific effects). Interpretation is looking at the text below its first level. You’re not just reading a story for entertainment; you’re asking yourself how this story is entertaining you, and what emotions, langage-use, and messages it is trying to convey. Try to prod different angles. How is style used? How is the story constructed? How does context play into the story, and how has it evolved? What are the narrative arcs? Do you feel compelled to agree with the narrator, a character, several characters? Is meaning open or closed? Is there one dominant arc, one dominant philosophy, or a multiplicity of them? Do you feel guided, manipulated, understood, lost, and why?

These posts might also help you:  1. Reading Awareness ; 2. Analysis advice ; 3. Contextualisation ; 4. Tone of the text; 4. Annotations ; 5. Over-Interpretation.

If you’re both very new and very motivated, I recommend you buy an annotated edition of the novel you want to look at. Norton Critical Editions are my favourites. Accessible but elaborate. Read the introduction, read the prologue, read the novel, then dip your toes in the afterwords and critical articles that you’ll find at the end. The introduction will give you pointers: the context, the author, the main beams on which the text is constructed, the general framework on which all scholars have agreed. These can be steppingstones to your own interpretations and points of interests. When you’re finished with the story and have made up your mind about what you, subjectively, have denoted from the text, articles and further reading will put your opinions in perspective and help you go further. It’s fine if you don’t agree with everything—nobody is right or wrong, but everyone is bringing something to the table, and you can learn even from ideas you dislike, if only because it will compel you to understand why and how you would want to refute them. 

And don’t feel discouraged if these articles go much further than you did spontaneously! Critical reading is a process. Jumping in and trying your hand at it is very important, but engaging with others’ works and ideas will help you hone your skills. And if you ever want to dive deep into Dostoyevsky, Bakhtin’s work is a little complex but wonderful (see Problems of Dostoyevsky’s Poetics). 

[atamascolily]

Book Review: “Dinotopia #1: Windchaser” by Scott Cienein

Windchaser was the first of the juvenile Dinotopia spin-offs, and it shows. The premise is pretty much a midde-grade version of the first Dinotopia book, down to being set in 1863, right when Will and Arthur are there. Instead of a boy and his father, we have Raymond, son of the ship’s surgeon on a prison transport, and Hugh, one of the prisoners, who get shipwrecked during the prison uprising that kills Raymond’s father, and wash up on Dinotopia.

It’s the standard “Dolphinbacks Adjust to Dinotopia - Hijinks Ensue” + “Skybax” plot, which is overused and hits all the predictable beats, but still has some fun world-building bits that keep it interesting. The skeptical, cynical Hugh eventually comes around thanks to the Power of Friendship; Raymond helps a traumatized Skybax named Windchase with the Power of Friendship, and Windchaser’s ability to speak human languages because Windchaser is special like that (sigh).

Other notes:

Apparently Bix’s job is to just wander around the beaches in case a Dolphinback shows up? Seems legit.

The boys’ tutor is an Edmontosaurus named Sollis who is pretty cool, actually.

Hugh learns to read so he can decipher a scroll on how to make gold and become a millionaire in the outside world, lol

Hugh getting frustrated by the Dinotopians’ lack of response to his deliberate thievery is hilarious

After they leave Waterfall City, they go to Skybax Camp, which is knock-off Canyon City, but nowhere near it?? idek

Raymond sneaks out to try to find Windchaser, and they end up bonding over their lost loved ones.

obligatory misunderstanding means the boys chase after Windchaser, complicated rescue ensues

Everyone else is astonished that Skybaxes can talk (I really loathe this particular plot point.)

Hugh ends up becoming a philosopher, lol

You’d think the protagonists would run into Will and Arthur while in Waterfall City, because those two were living there from August 1863-April 1865, and Waterfall City can’t be that big, but no luck.

This book is at its best when it’s showing us how Dinotopians respond to Hugh’s shenanigans, and you can see how utopia and post-scarcity work on a granular level. Hugh is definitely the more interesting of the two co-protagonists, honestly, even if he’s also so obnoxious sometimes I want to smack him. 

(tbh, I’m surprised Lee Crab didn’t try to recruit him or something because Disaffected Dolphinbacks are his thing, but this book is too short to handle a complex storyline like that)