#if she can keep even one of them she is in significantly better shape

[arbiterlexultionis]

Idea because one of the part 1’s was tagged as Danny x Cass and that’s one of my favorite ships:

Fair warning, this wound up significantly longer than planned whoops.

Jason is a stinky, no good, homicidal, feral man child. 0/10. Babs is Not trusting that man with her sister.

Cass on the other hand? She’s responsible, observant, kind, thoughtful and actually has her shit together. Babs is still kinda suspicious about it at first, especially when she finds out Cass is stalking safely escorting and observing Danny (without his knowledge) while he’s out and about, but then she finds out Danny has -10 survival instincts and Cass has saved him from 12 muggings, 4 kidnappings and a distressing number of head on collisions with cars, trains and on one occasion a helicopter.(Danny has zero fear because he’s secretly a super powered crime fighter, but for people who don’t know about that it makes zero sense that he hasn’t wound up dead yet. He kinda already has, he got better.)

After realizing how often Cass is saving Danny Babs gives her seal of approval, at first kinda leaving Cass to do her own thing but after Cass comes to her for advice a few to many times and keeps failing she gets invested. This leads to Babs constantly switching from full feral mode trying to fend off Jason with a broom and turning around to Cass like “I got you a date, here’s a bag of his favorite candy’s, get him a bouquet of flowers on you way he’ll love it. I’m so proud of you!”

On the one hand, Jazz is all for it. 100% into Jason and knows he reciprocates. Assuming Jason can sneak past Babs they are the single most romantic and cheesiest couple in all of Gotham. Babs cannot stop them, and they say that like a threat.

Danny on the other hand has low self esteem and is oblivious. He gets a heart shaped box of chocolates and bouquet of roses and is like “oh wow you’re such a good friend, thanks bestie!” not even thinking for a second it could be even somewhat romantic. Cass is the single least subtle person on the planet while she’s flirting with him because she’s doesn’t want to be subtle but Danny just won’t take the hint. Whether it be in sign or spoken word Cass is waxing poetic about how beautiful his eyes are and how his laugh fills her with joy and Danny’s just like “aww thanks, you make me happy too!” And Cass can read his body language so she knows it’s not a case of him intentionally ignoring her flirting because he doesn’t reciprocate, he’s just so. Fucking. DENSE. Now matter how much Babs wingwomen’s Cass it never works.

After months of Cass trying to woo him Vlad shows up to do Vlad things.

Danny and Cass are at a fancy restaurant for lunch, Cass dressed to the nines and Danny in all his blue jeaned and ratty t-shirted glory, the flowers she brought for him and homemade cookies he offered in exchange with a face flushed crimson sat off to the side. Vlad shows up halfway through and warning bells start blaring in Cass’ head. She takes one look at how Danny tenses the moment he enters, trys to put himself between Vlad and everyone else, flinch’s at every movement and more. Sees how scared he is. Sees how despite obviously being scared, damn near traumatized, he’s also obviously ready to fight. Vlad starts talking shit and just tells Danny he’s coming home with him to which Danny, understandably, says no, go to hell. Vlad, who has been spending Months tracking down Danny and Jazz, looses his shit. “No? No! You think you can say No to Me!? I OWN you! You are Mine, Little Badger. You will do as I tell you, when I tell you, no matter what I tell you, boy.” Half way through a smug smile spits across his face as he begins to withdraw some sort of custom made taser. He keeps it half hidden in his sleeve and turns to hide it from the crowd that’s gathered to watch the scene he’s making. Cass sees the way Danny’s eyes lock onto the device. Sees how Vlad taps it with his finger, turning it this way and that, flicking his wrist once or twice. Sees how Danny flinch’s at every movement, how Vlad seems almost giddy at every sign of fear and choked on breath. Vlad brings his other hand up almost casually, sets it on Danny’s shoulder almost gently. But Cass sees it, sees it all. Sees the hunger-possessive-obsessive-need in Vlad’s stance. Sees how the moment his hand lands on Danny shoulder it shifts into a white knuckled grip for an ever so brief moment, fingers digging into skin as his smug grin shift into a sickeningly sweet imitation of fatherly affection as he turns to the crowd to try and apologize for “his boy” causing such a ruckus, assuring them that he “Will be giving the child a very stern talking to” and something in her brain screams that Danny’s caution and fear, hi need to protect the people around him from the man in front of him is a learned response.

Vlad means his little I Own You speech as in “I am your godfather, your parents are dead and you are my evil apprentice.” He’s just referring to all the evil apprentice stuff that Danny refuses to do. But Cass, while fairly certain that Danny is some flavor of meta human has deliberately chosen to respect his privacy and not dig up all the answers until he trust her enough to tell her/something happens to force her hand, doesn’t know about any phantom stuff and as a result comes to some slightly different conclusions. Danny’s shifting his feet to something closer to a proper stance, muscles tensing like a coiled spring as his eyes dart around, taking in the environment, finding what he can use as a weapon, which civilians he needs to look out for, coming up with a plan to disarm Vlad. Cass sees all this, knows that Danny can and will defend himself. She also knows that she can afford significantly better lowers than him and Jazz.

So Cass Fucking Lunges for Vlad. She waits until he looks just barely far enough away for her to not be in his peripheral vision. As she vaults over the table it does not creek and shake, and nothing on it is disturbed. No sound is made and Vlad receives no warning. In less then a second he goes from smooth talking the public into not calling CPS on him because of how much of a pain it was to find people that would accept his bribes the last time to being laid out on the floor with a broken nose and 110 pounds of vengeance wailing on him. Unable to use his ghost abilities with all the witnesses he tries to get her with the Plasmius Maximus, because while it’s not deigned for humans a tasers a taser. Only for Cass to smoothly disarm and then damn near punch him in the throat with his own weapon before she tags him two more times in the torso before stashing it away and going back to beating the guano out of him with her bare hands. Eventually she gets up, stomping on a kidney for good measure, before turning around and seeing Danny, still tense and ready to fight, his eyes scanning over her, checking for injuries in the same way Alfred always does. When he confirms she’s unharmed, a tiny portion of the tenseness and nerves that claimed him when Vlad walked in leaves his shoulders and he takes a breath for the first time in minutes, having seemingly not even realized he’d stopped breathing at some point. Cass promptly turns back around to plant her heel in Vlad’s liver before returning to Danny and grabbing his free hand, his other already holding the cookies and flowers, and the two flee the restaurant in nearly a dead sprint with Cass leaving a few hundreds on the table for the food and trouble. Once they’re a few blocks away they stop, and Danny can’t help but stare. Can’t help but think that Cass’ now wind swept and messy hair looks far more beautiful then it ever has before, that the bright red of the blood splattered on her cheeks like constellations in the night sky brings out the blue in her eyes better than any make up ever could. Can’t help but remember the way his nearly still heart beat twice at the way she surged forth to protect.

Can’t help but speak in an oh so soft whisper, very nearly a prayer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No, I don’t mean as a friend. I, like, love you love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No, like, romantically. I love you romantically. I know you don’t feel the same, but I’ve felt this way so long and I need you to know. I still want to be friends though. If you’ll let me. If you don’t think I’m just some cree-”

In an instant she pulls him in until he’s safely wrapped in her arms, leaning in until her forehead gently wrest on his and their noses barely touch. He can feel her breath on his lips as she speaks.

“I love you, romantically. Can I kiss you?” Seconds pass before Cass’ hand flys to the com in her ear. “Babs, he fainted! What do I do?”

This is way to long as is and it’s late so I tried to dump the rest of my thought in the tags but apparently there’s limits on the length and number of tags. So I might have to do a separate post about Jazz and Jason.

can we connect the 'Duke gave Jason Jazz's number' ask with the ask of 'Babs being Jazz and Danny's sister'?

(Sure :3)

Jason gets Jazz's number, Babs is their sister

When Duke walked into the Clocktower, he paused in place at seeing the people on her screen.

"Uh. Babs? What's that?"

Barbara turned and blinked tired, exhausted eyes. She had spent several sleepless nights just researching everything she could find on her siblings.

She was so, so proud of them, especially because Danny was going to school to be an astronaut and Jazz had already graduated, currently working within Arkham Asylum as a fair and hard working psychiatrist.

"This? It's nothing," she said absentmindedly. Like hell she was going to let any of the vigilantes she knew linger around or pester her darling siblings!

"... that's a picture of Jazz Fenton."

Barbara blinked. "You know her?"

"Yeah, sometimes Jazz volunteers at Gotham University to tutor people. She helps me with my anatomy classes," Duke explained.

A first witness account about her siblings from someone she knew!

"Tell me more," Barbara said eagerly.

Duke crossed his arms. "Tell me why you're looking into her."

Barbara sighed deeply. Then she said, "We're half siblings. I found out that she and my half-brother are in Gotham so I just wanted to learn more about them. I never met them before because my biological mom left when I was young."

Duke's eyebrows rose. Then he said, "Huh. Well, alright. Jazz is really nice. She explains things really well and she's also really patient. Everyone wants her to tutor them, but she's pretty busy so you have to schedule her in advance sometimes. I have her number, so I usually get tutored by her often. She also talks a lot? But she's super nice!"

Barbara nodded. She had hacked into several places and had already figured out most of her sibling's personality traits.

Jazz was an overachiever, eager to please, helpful, chatty, and a bit of a know it all. Danny, meanwhile, was a bit antisocial, but very kind, thoughtful, clever, and quick to help others.

Had she mentioned that she was very proud of them? She wanted desperately to meet them in person one day.

Duke then continued with a small laugh, "Y'know, if nothing else happens, I think you'll see your siblings again. Maybe even as in-laws! Jazz gave Jason her number the other day and he's been super eager to ask her out."

All time seemed to freeze. It was like a record scratch that turned off the music.

Barbara stared at him. "Excuse me?"

Even if Duke wasn't a meta that could predict the future, he could already feel the danger.

"Uh."

".... did you just say that Jason is trying to ask out my adorable little sister? Jason? Jason who once killed 8 people and put their decapitated heads in a duffel bag? Jason who lives in a trashy apartment because he's too busy committing crime to clean it? Jason who forgets to shower sometimes because he gets lazy?"

"............ yes?" Duke sounded afraid.

Barbara turned around to her computer again, bringing up more files. This time, they were named after Jason and Red Hood.

"Leave. You didn't see anything here."

Duke immediately bowed. "Yes, ma'am. Please spare me."

"You'll live only because you can tell me more about Jazz."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Then he scrambled out of the Clocktower. RIP Jason. You will be missed.

[atopvisenyashill]

What if Laena Velaryon had been born a boy?

this one is a stumper for me because it changes a LOT (bc, and I cannot emphasize this enough, but Laena is important to the plot and to Rhaenyra as a character!!)

The great council still sides with Viserys because Laenor was alive, and Rhaenys pushed his claim in canon, so having a slightly older son isn't going to do much for that.

Where this really starts to affect the plot is when Viserys is looking to remarry. Laena is pushed forward as the "correct" match because she is Valyrian, and it would soothe Corlys and Rhaenys' ruffled feathers from the GC 101. But if they have no daughters, that clearly doesn't happen. This also means there is straight up no Valyrian woman able to marry and have children except Rhaenyra during this time period which is a little wild (Rhaenys and maybe Jocelyn are alive, but past child bearing years, and these people just refuse to marry Celtigars which is deeply funny). Viserys has some room to pick whoever he wants to marry in this situation though, and I think it's not unlikely that more than Otto tries to take advantage of that (but Otto is still going to win).

HOWEVER. Especially after Rhaenyra is named heir, I think Corlys starts pushing that a boy Laena (obviously she's called Laenor, and probably actual Laenor is called like, Lucerys or something) marries Rhaenyra. I think it's likely he throws himself behind Rhaenyra hard, insisting that Laena and House Velaryon will uphold her claim, protect her birthright, "We Will Be Strong As We Were In Old Valyria By Joining Our Blood", etc etc, and since Viserys is not snubbing Corlys by refusing to marry Laena, I think there’s a non zero chance Laena and Rhaenyra are engaged very young.

But what does this mean for the Dance? Well…

Rhaenyra is probably less hostile to her marriage. Laena is a daring dragon rider who adores his mother & supports Rhaenyra and, most importantly, can give her heirs, so I think Rhaenyra pushes against this marriage much less. However, part of Rhaenyra’s anger over the engagement isn’t just the risk of marrying a man who may not give her children, or easing her father’s political headaches, but the idea that Rhaenyra is not allowed sexual freedom while Daemon and Viserys (and later Aegon) all are. So whether Rhaenyra is hostile to the marriage largely depends on how well she gets on with Laena and whether she feels like has control over her sexuality. In canon they are close, but in canon Laena is a woman and that does make a difference. There’s also The Criston Cole And Daemon Of It All - if Rhaenyra has a fiancé looking out for her, does Rhaenyra get so attached to him? Does whatever happens the night she goes to Daemon & Criston still happen?

It’s all kind of hard to say considering both Eustace and Mushroom are full of shit and Gyldayn is a raging misogynist. And regardless of the fallout of that, what Laena gives Rhaenyra is incredibly important - Valyrian looking heirs. With at the very least a Jacaerys that looks like a Velaryon (because he is by blood this time), a large part of the Greens propaganda falls apart. Yes, she’s a woman, but she has a Valyrian heir with a husband she probably likes & takes an active role in her life, and the unwavering support of the Velaryons. PLUS with the dragon twins gone, that frees Jace up to marry literally anyone - like, say, Helaena! Or potentially, one of the storm sisters! And if anyone gets too cute with Rhaenyra, well, Laena has Vhagar!

Again, the wildcards here are Criston and Daemon. Daemon especially has no way back into the main Targaryen line because there are no Valyrian women for him to marry. I think that makes him much more erratic when Rhaenyra marries, because he can see his hopes of being “accepted” slipping away and he has no other option to turn to.

So….Rhaenyra is theoretically better off by the time her father dies. If she cares for Laena as a man the way she cared for Laena as a woman, she will have the full backing of House Velaryon, a legitimate heir who is free to make a great political match, a husband happy to back her claim, and once again, Vhagar on her side and Aemond defanged. The question is if this marriage stays happy or if it sours because Rhaenyra feels stifled, or Daemon/Cole does something particularly deranged about it at any point.

[keyaho]

.summary: nami's punishment continues. terry divulges himself. he also exposes himself. and indulges again.

short warnings: sensory play, oral, fingering banner: by me (i'm working on making some better than this one lmao. first attempt I know it ain't cute)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

Nami thought she would get tired of her hands being bound away from her. She thought she would snap and tell him she didn’t like them anymore. Instead, she pulled on them as her arms ached, so much that the burn became familiar; like brushing her teeth. She wanted them even if she wanted to touch Terry more. In the guest room, Nami flexed her feet, one of them was bound at the ankle to the end of the bed. The other was pushed up, opening her legs. She stared up at the ceiling in wait, Terry somewhere in the house doing who knows what before he came and did god knows what to her body. 

“Your playtime has been cut in half, significantly,’ he says, still feeling miffed from her earlier attitude. 

Nami noted that Terry wasn’t going to just let things go. He held her to her choices while standing on his own. The fact that he was still going to indulge her was surprising. After the chicken tenders and fries, she figured he would keep distance between them. Instead, he spent ten minutes kissing her while her hands tugged on her pretty yellow leather cuffs. Personalized with ‘Pretty Gyal’ in black thread, the cuffs were becoming bracelets. A cute accessory to the debauchery Terry inflicted upon her. 

“But, I can indulge myself, yes?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good.” 

She couldn’t see him from her positon on the bed. Head in the pillows, the room was a comfortable temperature, the cuffs weren’t too tight and she was at ease. Moments later, Terry came to the side of the bed, placing a bowl on the table next to it. He picked up her phone and turned it off. 

“No distractions.” He had left his own to die in the kitchen. 

The guest bedroom door was shut, enclosing them in their own little world. He knelt next to the bed, his finger tips running along her side. 

“Tonight was supposed to end with my face buried in your pussy. I was supposed to be eating you like the last supper, watching you try not to cum. I was supposed to let you get one off, because I wanted to watch you break apart.” 

“I’m sorry, Sir,’ she says, ‘really sorry.” 

Terry’s face softened for a little, she noted the way the lines in his forehead disappeared before they snapped back and his eyes slanted away from her as he looked at her restraints. 

“So you’ve told me.” He paused. “However, your punishment doesn’t end after being spanked.” He kissed his teeth and shook his head. “I want the lesson learned to stick so you remember not to do it again. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He looked behind him at the bowl before continuing. “You circled sensory play and over stimulation.” 

“Yes, Sir,’ she replied, though her voice lifted at the end in question. 

“I’m going to add edging and if you are a good girl for me, I might let you cum.” 

The threat and reward lingered in the air between them. Her body tingled as he stood up with his fingers stroking her cheek, her bottom lip, and she parted her mouth. The bowl beside the bed disappeared as he placed it on the bed between her legs. 

“I want you to talk to me, okay?” Terry vocalized. “This is for you and you need to tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good.” He gestured to the room. “In here, I’ll do my best to give you what you need. Maybe even what you want.”  

Terry’s words hung between them as he stood up. 

He didn’t like to improvise but the chilling item in the bowl would have to do. Cold, his fingers dipped into the ice, the circular pieces came from a mold meant to make it easier to add to water bottles. The cylinder shape looked phallic and the sadistic tendencies Terry had began to surface. That would not be happening tonight. He wanted to be the first thing to fuck her. 

“Just feel,’ he instructed, ‘make the noises you want to.” He looked at her soft brown eyes. 

Nami hissed as the ice that landed on her belly and it sat chilling on her skin. It slowly started to melt, the cold water running down the her sides and hips. As it sat there, Terry took another piece in his hands and ran it down her inner thigh. She was warmer here and the ice snapped in half in his hands. 

“Hm..” 

His hands dipped into the bowl again and she hissed when a piece of the ice circled her nipple and another slipped between her legs. 

“Oh,’ she hummed, unsure which sensation she should focus on. 

The one on her chest was cold, but it was tolerable and her nipples hardened as he circled it around. The ice slipping between her lower lips was harsher, colder, and uncomfortable. 

“I…I don’t,’ she began, her eyes searching the ceiling as she tried to find the words. 

“What’s wrong?” Terry asks, stopping his movements and that gives Nami the clarity she needed. 

“I don’t think I like that as much,’ she admitted in a whisper. “Can I scratch that off the list?” She asked, the genuine question in her eyes made him smile. 

“Yeah, we can take that off, babygirl.” 

The initial touch of the ice was blissful, but the biting chill of it after wasn’t something she’d derive any pleasure from. Not even from the ice that he was pressing flush to her pussy, though the cold she liked. 

“Tell me why you don’t like it.” 

Nami licked her suddenly dry lips. 

“What part of me playing with your pussy with ice turned you off.” 

“The…the, um,’ she fumbled, his expression was one of pure elation as if he was enjoying talking to her this way. This wasn’t a Dom in front of her. Her free leg suddenly drew upwards as realization set in. He was too readable this way and she didn’t know if to feel happy or aroused. 

“At first it feels good. But then it’s too cold and it hurts. It stings and numbs.” 

“We can try it another way.”

He couldn’t push it off any longer. The ice had long since melted and his fingers were coated in her thick and sticky essence as he worked it from her body. He could feel her body shaking to stay still. Her hips stuttered and she gave into the pleasure, eyes drifting closed as she moaned. 

“You like that,’ he teased, applying a little more pressure. 

“Yes,” 

“Shh, my pussy is talking,’ he grabbed another piece of ice and chilled his hands before adding them to her body. 

He alternated between eating ice and rubbing it across her skin. The more he played with her pussy the hotter she began to feel and the ice became pleasurable. 

“That’s it, pretty baby.” He cooed. “You want to cum for me don’t you.” 

Nami was speechless, the multiple sensations her body was experiencing made her toes curl. A knot sat deep in her stomach, tight, and getting tighter. She fought against it but she knew moving would make it worse. Nami took deep breaths, loudly blowing them out as she tried to count herself down from a ten to a two. Her head cleared a little and she thought of something else, the shake in her limbs relaxing after a few minutes. Terry had pulled his hand away and watched as she fought the urge to cum. Her chest rose and fell slowly and she counted to herself. 

“Good girl,’ Terry was amused, ‘yu really waah cum fi mi nuh you?’ he laughed. “Tell mi how it feel.” 

Nami watched his eyes light up as he smiled. All fucking thirty-two teeth were bared and the shift in his speech sent the flood straight from her pussy to the bedsheets. She blinked in wonder as he kissed her wrists. Terry then leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, cheek, nose, and then her lips. His fingers began to poke around her hole, flirting with her wet folds as his tongue licked into her mouth. The squelching sounds had been minor before. She could hear them now and feel the way her slick stuck to his fingers. 

“Talk to me, Nami,’ he whispered.

“It feels good.” 

“I know that,’ he replied. “Talk to me.”

“You have me so wet,’ she admitted, his fingers stroking continuously in the same pattern, driving her thoughts wild with the repetition. 

Her breath fanned against his face as she breathed, trying to control herself as his thumb began to strum her clit like a guitar. His fingers moved downward and she bucked her hips unexpectedly when his middle and ring finger pushed into her cunt and stroked in a ‘come hither’ motion. His thumb made light circles on her swollen clit. He scissored his fingers, stretching her left and right. 

Terry kissed down her jaw and sucked on the skin of her neck. The words left her lips faster than she could form them in her head. 

“Does it feel good, baby,” Terry asked. 

 “Yes, Daddy…” 

“Who's making you feel good,’ he hissed. His stroke became faster. 

“You, Daddy-please,’ Nami pleaded. His hand was doing demonic craft through his fingers. He was the spawn of a pleasure demon and she could feel her offering leaking from between her legs. 

Nami felt her body arching into his fingers, seeking out more from him, and he pulled them away. The relief that washed over her as her body fell to the bed was magical. Clarity set in and she threw her leg over to close herself off, trying to rub away the intense feelings pulsating through her slit. 

Terry reached over to the nightstand and turned on her phone. He slid it unlock and set a timer. He dropped the phone onto her stomach as he kissed down her body, his tongue drawing her left nipple into his mouth. He grinned as she pushed her chest upwards towards him, the touch caught her off guard. His tongue lapped there for a few seconds then left a trail towards her sex. Before that he tapped the outside of her leg to get her attention. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she slurred, the sexual haze settling over her as she tried to keep her thoughts clear. She was overwhelmed and her body felt hot. 

“You have two minutes left,’ he pressed a light kiss to her sex. The tip of his tongue flicked against her swollen clit and she whimpered. “You can hold it that long and Daddy will let you cum.” 

“Please, I’ll be good!” She didn’t want to wait two minutes. 

Amused, Terry looked up from his wet fixation. “You’ll be good huh?” 

Nami whined. “I’ll be so good for you.” 

He kissed her pussy again with a bit more firm pressure. Namis legs shaked. 

”Two minutes.” 

He started the timer and pushed her legs apart. Terry pressed his hand into the back of her knee and held it open as his tongue licked between her wet slit. She tried to count, but lost track when he licked from her weeping hole to her sensitive throbbing clit. Terry felt her trying to drag her body away from him. He let her, watching her twist away from him as he licked his lips. He followed her, pushing her legs back open. He finds the phone and drops it beside her head, his eyes threatening her to keep still. 

“Be still.” 

He grabbed her hips and lowered his mouth back to her pussy, slurping his tongue through it. His mouth was cold. The ice shocked her body with a sudden chill. Terry’s tongue quickly licked the chill away, warming her up and making her slicker. The sounds of him eating her out were loud and wet. He sucked her clit into his mouth roughly as his fingers rejoined in stroking her hole. 

Nami was on the verge of tears, the knot in her belly was hard to keep away, and she couldn’t see the time to know what was left and she was sure she wasn’t going to make it. 

“Hold out for me,’ Terry says. 

His fingers were playing a symphony on her g-spot, how could she? 

“Yuh naa go rush Daddy yuh?” 

He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as she caught a glimpse of his face. His mouth and chin were soaked. The sight of him covered in her mess was too much. The deep baritone of his patois was just as mind numbing as the fingers that had been slipping in and out of her pussy. Nami’s legs drifted shut, her toes curling. 

The alarm on the phone blared and she let go, whimpering as her orgasm soared through her. She didn’t even need him to touch her, just the sight of him between her legs tasting her and the feeling of his thick tongue pushed her over. The alarm was just the trigger. Terry watched her body shake, her hole leaked, creating a large wet spot on the sheets. He thumbed her over the sensitive clit and watched how that same leaking hole clenched around nothing. How her sweet little pink cunt needed to be filled as it welcomed his fingers again. He stroked her a few times, watching her face wince in overstimulation. As Terry watched her sum, he kept eating the ice. 

When his cold tongue flattened against her pussy a second time, Nami tugged so hard on her restraint the latched holding them to the bed snapped. Her wrists were still bound as they came swinging forward from the sudden momentum. Terry heard the snap and looked up and his hand came out to grab her wrists before her hands could grab him. He had disclosed jujitsu as one of his hobbies but she was still surprised at his reflexes. Maybe it was the marine in him too. Either way he pinned them over head, but didn’t hold them. He looked at her in warning and she silently understood. 

“Yes. Sir.” 

He brought her body to the edge of the bed after unbinding them completely. He knelt between her legs as he watched her hands to make sure they were above her head. She had them face downwards and gripping the sheets. Once he parted her legs his mouth latched on to her clit. He assaulted it with his tongue, licked, sucked into his mouth, and devoted so much attention to it she was begging him to let up and slow down. 

His tongue licked lower, his resolve gone as he licked his way into her hole, sucking the slick she hadn’t stopped leaking. It was all unbeatable this time and he gave into temptation. He pulled her legs over his shoulders so he could hold her still. Nami rocked her hips against his mouth, his wet and deadly mouth. 

“I knew this pussy was going to taste good,’ he breathed out, a light chuckle in his chest.

His eyes were blue, Nami’s mouth dropped open as Terry’s tongue flicked against her like a snake's tail.  

With her legs pressed towards her chest, Terry’s tongue played around in her pussy. He was such a noisy eater, slurping and sucking until she was trying to wiggle away from him. His hips began to rock and he flattened his tongue against her pussy letting her ride his face. Her chest rose and fell as she sucked in air. She needed some relief and it was starting to expand in her lower belly. A fire so hot the ice on his tongue did little to soothe. 

She felt like crying. The sensation of being licked and forcing herself not to cum was making her head split. She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions. Nami looked down at him again. His eyes, fuck, those eyes. 

Were they? 

Green? Now? 

Chameleon ass…..

Fucking green eyed bast-

The shrill of the alarm scared Nami right into her orgasm. Her back arched off the bed and her toes curled from their position in the air. She sucked in a deep breath, feeling her pussy quiver as she wished to turn on her side and rub her thighs together, the friction needed. 

When did he set another one?

Terry tore himself away from her cunt. Standing abruptly he wiped a hand over his mouth and chin, but his skin still shone with the aftermath of her orgasm. 

Nami tried to sit up. Her body slumped back to the bed as she joined him in trying to catch their breath. Her voice was soft, sleepy sounding, but he heard it: 

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Terry looked down at himself. He had worn briefs beneath his sweats, hoping to contain himself a bit better and resist the urge to jerk off as he tasted her. Nami wasn’t like previous submissives. Her naivety turned him on. Her wonder and interest renewed his lust for the community. He looked down at her, his heavy breathing silent as she laid there, legs spread, for his next instruction. She was waiting to know what he wanted her to do. He bit down on his lip, slightly upset he lost control just now. He shouldn’t have indulged in her the way he had. Not when punishment was the precursor. He should have edged her and then let her be. Yet, Terry had given in. He had let her cum. He had went against his own R.E.L.Ls to indulge when he had been waiting for the right moment. A tinge of anger settled into his bones and he looked away from her inviting body and slipped into the bathroom. 

He had exposed a part of himself that he shouldn’t have and she caught it. Caught him. He couldn’t fault her for what she did not know was happening. As he busied himself with running her a bath, Terry opened the bathroom’s closet and pulled out a towel and placed it on the sink counter. 

“Sir,’ came her soft voice. 

She stood in the door, her hands bound in front of her, curly hair messy, and his shirt was wrinkled and damp. Nami was a mess of his doing and he bit back the urge to smile. Shit. He needed to reel himself in. The scene was over and he could feel the drop in energy. 

“Yes?” He replied after swallowing. 

“I was trying not to cum.” She whispered. She raised her hands and rubbed them over her flushed face. Her mascara had run, making dark streaks over her cheeks. “I really was trying.” 

Terry’s eyes softened as he walked over to her. “I know.” He cupped her face and brought his head down to kiss her. “You made it to the end of the two minutes.” He pulled away and kissed her forehead. “Twice.” 

“Am I still in trouble,’ she asked as she pursed her lips. 

“Nah, you’re not in trouble.” 

He let her go and she watched him prep her bath. He never stayed in the bathroom with her, so when he beckoned her in she didn’t hesitate. 

“Grab the counter.” 

She put her back to him and placed her hands on the counter. He stood behind her and she watched him in the large mirror. Shirtless, his chest pressed against her back and he unnecessarily leaned into her to remove the cuffs. His hands wrapped around her wrists as his fingers unlatched the leather. He kissed her neck, pulled down the shirt and pressed his lips to her shoulder all the while keeping eye contact with her in the mirror. She tried to look away but his eyes were hypnotic, drawing her in and keeping her hostage. 

With the cuffs gone, Nami lifted her arms to rub her wrists. Beside her, Terry opened a drawer and pulled out a blue tin of salve. His hands then grabbed the back of the shirt and lifted upwards before tossing it into a hamper near the closet. Terry turned around and turned off the water, testing the temperature. She stayed still, watching him over her shoulder. The muscles in his back flexed as he stood up right. 

“When you’re done, wrap in that towel and come see me in the living room.” 

Spread over his lap, Nami’s eyes rolled upwards as he rubbed the thick salve into her ass and inner thighs. His thumbs pressed into her skin and she went limp, enjoying the care. She was in another one of his shirts, not caring it was hanging off her head as she let her arms dangle. His hand smoothed up her back, her shoulders slumping more into his thighs. 

Choking. Spanking. Grabbing. Massaging. 

Those hands could do whatever they wanted to. 

“Do you need a nap?” He asked. 

They had done a lot over the past few days and he wondered if he was moving too fast. She was just so willing. 

“Not yet,’ she replied. If she did she wanted to take on with him. 

“I want to talk about one of the kinks you have.” He says. 

He pulls down her shirt and helps her sit up. She tucks her hands into her lap as she sits cross legged next to him on the couch. He closed the salve tin and dropped it on the infamous table. 

“Yes, S-’

“Speak freely.” He says. “This one is serious.” 

He had studied that paper like it was his orders for work. 

“Do you understand the depth of control I have to have to allow you to participate in consensual non consent, even with me?” 

Nami bit down on her bottom lip. It was one of the first kinks she circled and though she knew the extent of what it could be, Terry’s question had her second guessing. 

“No.” She whispered. “Do you not want to do it? We can take it off.” 

Terry’s hand came down on her knee, stopping her fidgeting. He leaned back and shook his head. 

“That’s not why I am asking.” He looked at her and then to where his hand was on her thigh. “You are giving me consent before it ever happens. That’s different than in the moment. Yeah, you can safeword, but there is no other way to do the kink unless you go all the way. No safewording.” He could see the concern on her face. “I wouldn’t do anything you hadn’t agreed to prior, but we can’t plan this kink. It comes when I want it to.” 

Nami had mentioned she wanted to give up control, as much as she could, because she liked being used in that way. For lack of better words if he wanted, Terry could use her as a toy. She derived so much pleasure from sexual intimacy. The kinks heightened the feelings, but being that close to a man was the main turn on. To be desired in that way. 

“If I see you aren’t enjoying it then I will stop it. And we can try at a later time.” Terry continued. “I’m going to come to you when you don’t want it. When you’re tired or when you’re busy. Your safe word is the only trigger and if you use it, I will never do this kink again.” He paused. “If I have control then I have it. It’s not shared. It’s not traded back and forth. It’s mine the same way your body will be in that moment. At my discretion and for how long I desire to use it.” 

She twisted the shirt in her hands while she looked down at the material. 

“But it wouldn’t happen until after I fuck you so you have nothing to worry about for now. I just wanted you to know the severity of that particular kink.” 

“How do we warm up to that?” 

Terry laughed, not at her, but he understood the joke. “We don’t, however, exploring your kinks helps me create the scene for you. I’ll do what you like after I do what I want.” 

Nami nodded, unsure of what to say. She needed to think about it. 

“Can I ask you something,’ she inquired. 

“Of course,’ he replied, his hand sliding up her thigh and beneath the shirt. “Anything you want.” 

“You….earlier, there was a difference,’ she fumbled over her words, trying to string them together so they made sense. “I called you Daddy but you didn’t correct me. Or punish me for it.” 

“In the heat of things I can forget to pace myself and I slip into a different head space.” 

“Was it my fault?” She asked. 

Terry’s eyes shot up to hers and he leaned forward, almost in her lap. She kept her hands tightly fisted in the shirt. 

“No, you did everything right.” He sighed. 

Nami waited for him to speak again, though she let out a sigh of content when he kissed her. His tongue swept over her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, letting him taste her as if he hadn’t. Her hands twitched and she huffed. So badly she wanted to hold his face, his shoulders, scratch up his back, marvel at the way his toned stomach rippled beneath her fingers and feel the heaviness of his dick in her hands. 

She was snatched from her thoughts as his hand pushed between her legs, the heat inviting his fingers back into her cove, just as wet as it had been before. 

“What are you thinking about that made you so wet, Nami?” He teased, pushing her to lie back on the couch. 

He unfolded her legs, pushed her arms up and settled between her thighs. 

“I really want to touch you.” She says, eyes glossy as he played with her pussy. Their talk became more sensual as he pushed them into her cunt, stroking a fire that was warming her belly. 

“I know.” He kissed her neck, tugging the skin between his teeth as she arched into his fingers. “I can’t keep my hands off you.” He admitted. “You taste so fucking good, baby.” 

He crawled to the floor, kneeling beside her before pulling her legs to either side of his head. He brought her body down, resting her thighs on his shoulders as he held her still. He kissed her clit, looking up at her as she held onto the back of the couch. 

“Mi nuh need yuh touchin mi rite now.” 

Terry whispered patois to her pussy, his lips licking up her slick as she dug her nails into the back of the couch. There it was again, Nami thought, something gentle about how he spoke to her, the patois rolling across her ears as she moaned. She tried to keep still, to watch him devour her, but her body betrayed her and she rocked her hips back and forth against his mouth again. 

She was still sensitive from earlier and the need to push his head away while pulling him closer at the same time was high. His tongue was flat as it pressed against her cunt and she could almost feel his damn tastebuds flaring up as they became soaked in her mess. 

“Sweet little pussy,’ he hummed. “Mi a guh fuck yuh senseless.” 

taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites @browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @slutsareteacherstoo

{ if you wanted to be on this taglist and I have not added you yet please let me know! I feel like I'm forgetting people and I don't want to do that! }

[sansaorgana]

Could I maybe request a bit of a sequel fic to thrown to the wolves where we kind of see the outside galaxy's perspective on the couple and their son. Like a lady from caladan remembering playing with reader and reconciling it with who she is now or a low ranking guard on Giedi Prime and the few times he's caught glimpses of them reflecting on how great it is that his chances of being randomly killed by the baron have dropped significantly since the Baroness has arrived or a handmaid to Irulan whose heard whispers that even the emperor fears them. IDK I think it could be interesting to see them and see how rumor and truth shape their wider image in the galaxy.

Thank you once again though for the masterpiece that is Thrown To The Wolves!

THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi, darling! 💝 Sorry that it took me so long but I was dealing with the end of semester at Uni. 🙄 Thank you for the request because it was interesting to write from other people's perspective. Perhaps the story is not very long but I have one more story about Feyd and our beloved (Na-)Baroness in my inbox to write, so it's not the end... yet! 😁

WORD COUNT — 1,370

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

After her arrival, Princess Irulan was told by her servants that her father expected to see her. She nodded her head and freshened herself before taking a walk down the corridor to meet with her father. To her surprise, The Reverend Mother was not there and it was unusual since she often reminded of The Emperor's shadow.

“Welcome back home, child,” her father greeted her and pointed at the chair next to his. Irulan sat there and looked at him, waiting for his questions. “How was the ceremony on Giedi Prime?”

“Splendid,” Irulan answered genuinely. “They have outdone themselves, I have to admit. And The Baroness gave birth to the new na-baron on the same night. The excitement was unbelievable.”

“On the same night?” The Emperor smirked. “That woman plotted it very carefully.”

“Not everything is a result of plotting and scheming, dear father,” Irulan sighed. “Women cannot predict the exact time of birth.”

She was a bit irritated with her father for assuming such a thing – not because she was under The Baroness’ charm or influence but because it was so… typical for a man of him. They had no idea about childbirth but they loved to pretend they knew everything.

“Do not underestimate them, The Harkonnens,” The Emperor tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at his daughter as if he was able to hear her thoughts. “Their technology and medicine advanced us in ways we don't even know about. They know very well that their experiments would not be approved by the other Great Houses so they keep most of them a secret. And do not underestimate The Baroness either. What do people say about her?”

“That she can temper Feyd-Rautha, the new Baron,” Irulan answered. “They hope for that certainly.”

“Tame him? Have you seen her on Arrakis?” The Emperor sneered at that. “Women tend to be more ruthless leaders than men for they truly do believe that their cruelty is justified for the way the society is treating them,” he reminded his daughter. After all, she would inherit after him as well.

If they were lucky. And deep down he knew they would not be. He was old and weak now but not stupid. He knew what The Harkonnens wanted – his throne. Feyd-Rautha himself perhaps would not be a threat that big but the new Baroness was a dangerous new pawn in that game. She had her ruthless husband under control and he was nothing but a loyal dog – he would bite and attack when she asked. And The Emperor knew that she would ask. She was only waiting for the right moment.

“The Harkonnens have gained a new amount of power and influence. A dangerous one,” he thought out loud. “They're so powerful now that I can't take away their privileges because they'd attack and only prove their forces are stronger than the Imperial ones.”

“It's better to keep them as friends,” Irulan nodded as she played nervously with her fingers.

“Let's hope and pray that the new Baroness wants to make friends,” her father smiled sadly.

He was old already, he couldn't care less. But he was worried about his daughter’s future.

“The word soon will spread about their power. We have to make sure all the rumours about them wanting the Imperial Throne will be silenced,” he added.

The rumour was spreading indeed. But a maid from Caladan who had used to be the new Baroness' personal servant back in the day… She didn't believe the cruel rumours.

As her former Princess was leaving to Giedi Prime, she had promised her to keep visiting her mother's grave. And she was standing above it now as she admired the new stone next to it. The grave of Duke Leto and Lady Jessica was standing right next to his late wife's. Baroness Harkonnen had paid for the transport of their bodies and for the funeral and the stone. She had given all the instructions on what should be written on it. 

Duke Leto Atreides. Lady Jessica – mother of Prince Paul Atreides and the unnamed daughter.

And the maid knew – she had heard the stories – that it was Baroness Harkonnen herself who had murdered Lady Jessica and her child. But the maid also knew that her former Princess could not be as fearsome and cruel as the rumours were saying. She still cared about her father and even made her peace with Lady Jessica in a way, since she allowed her to rest next to her mother. Another rumour said that she had also allowed Prince Paul's Fremen lover to take care of his body and give him a funeral according to their customs.

But the maid was sad as she watched. So many things had changed and she wished they all were still here – Duke Leto, Jady Jessica, young Paul and young (Y/N). 

A cold shiver went down her body at the realisation that only Baroness Harkonnen had survived out of them all. Perhaps the rumours were true after all – she had to be cruel and fearsome if she had been the only survival of her House and family and if she had helped to murder them herself. And the stone she had bought did not mean anything, really. It was just a stone.

Usually, on other planets, becoming the personal guard of the noble family was a privilege. On Giedi Prime it meant a death sentence. 

The young Baron couldn't care less about human life and he was always first to take it. The lives of slaves, servants and guards meant nothing to him and in the past he had been even killing them just out of boredom.

The young guard assigned to keep an eye on the nursery was tense every time the Baron was nearby. But so far so good, he thought, when he realised that the young na-baron Maxim-Feyd Harkonnen was already six months old and he was still alive. To last half a year nearby the Baron was an achievement for sure.

As he was standing in front of the doors leading to the nursery most of his days, he had an opportunity of witnessing the scary Baron Harkonnen performing activities that would certainly spoil his ruthless image. He was visiting the nursery every day alongside his wife – in fact, The Baroness was visiting a few times a day. But at least once a day The Baron was by her side, looking the guard up and down with contempt but doing nothing more than that.

Apparently, it was his wife's influence – so the people said. She believed that her own servants should not fear them too much because it was influencing their loyalty in a bad way. Whatever she believed in – for all the servants, slaves and guards it was a big relief.

But only the guards working around the nursery and two maids named Astra and Cara could see The Baron Harkonnen being… soft. Soft around his son when he was carrying him around and telling him war stories. He was definitely a very proud father even though he was often scared of hurting his child accidentally. And he tended to forget that children – especially so small – couldn't understand him. He often addressed little Maxim as if he was an adult and then he was getting frustrated that his son didn't understand him.

The Baroness found it funny each time. But even though she was a woman and most likely a reason why the chances of getting randomly killed decreased, it would be foolish to think she was not to be feared.

Not only her one command would make The Baron attack but also all it would take to enrage him was to look at The Baroness the wrong way. She wouldn't have to ask then, The Baron was a guard dog. A rabid animal, barely tamed by a madwoman – you never knew when she'd loosen the leash.

And that was the Galaxy's greatest fear now – and it was not the question of if but a question of when the leash would be loosened and the war for the Imperial Throne starts. And people wondered who was truly more dangerous – the rabid dog or the mad owner?

MASTERLIST

[bonefall]

how much of Stormpaw’s demon are Maple’s curse vs just things that happen (cause in canon it’s really vague about whether Maple causes all those tragedies or has the ability to see his future for some reason)

EVERYTHING that happens in Stormpaw's Demon involves her. It's not being so dramatically renamed for nothing, she's a major driver and cause of the plot! Crookedstar's young name is in the title; but really, his demon is driving the misfortune.

That said... It's been a while and I'm heavily considering retooling the narrative.

Since I last REALLY worked on it, BB has changed in the sense that I'm a lot more willing to alter canon than I used to be. While my driving mindset used to be "telling a better version of the original story," and that IS a value I still hold... I've lost patience with the misogyny within the original work.

I've spoken at length about the way Crookedstar's Promise grinds my gears (PLEASE follow this link for a full breakdown of why), but in summary; it desperately tries to keep every male character likeable when they shouldn't be, saying nothing about the fact they are complicit in or even enabling abuse, while giving Crookedstar TWO flatly evil maternal figures. Even Brambleberry, who's heavily praised for being "like a mom instead," has a weird moment where she starts giving Crookedjaw the cold shoulder because she finds out he's chatting with a demon.

So like... I'm not sure if I want to make the "better version" of that story. That was the one that I already had, which had Mapleshade be acting entirely out of just the malice of wanting to hurt a child, while Hailstar and Shellheart are the excellent people canon wanted to see them as.

(not that it's even a BAD super edition, it's actually a really good one, but if it's my kitchen that's not what we cook here. Man I really do always massively overhaul my favorite SEs LMAO)

I think, specifically, I want to make Mapleshade slightly more morally gray and Hailstar more of an enabler. Shellheart is getting significantly retooled to make him more of the heartwarming parental figure I think he should be; someone loving to help balance out a very heavy rework.

And of course Brambleberry, I'm going to tweak her some. Try to make her flaws more consistent, get rid of that odd cold shoulder moment.

Old regulars will remember an old AU which is also still a massive favorite of mine; it was called Better Call Mapleshade, and it was kind of a commentary on how an environment can shape a person. Mapleshade, as a demon in heaven, was essentially their best prosecutor and defense attorney.

You can actually see how a lot of ideas from that AU ended up in Better Bones with the expanded trial system! I'm thinking of taking another page out of it, by making Mapleshade more aware of "the game" of Clan culture's structural unfairness, while also using it like a weapon against people she wants to hurt. A powerful demon of revenge.

Under the cut, what won't be changing, the way it was, and Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon.

(MASSIVE CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CHILD ABUSE including ableism. BB!Rainflower is WORSE than canon.)

WHAT WON'T BE CHANGING;

These are major details of Stormpaw's Demon that are different from canon. I'm working with these as givens and won't be changing between drafts.

Mapleshade does have a bone to pick with Appledusk's lineage specifically. One option might make her more discerning when it comes to her targets, but no matter what, she is going to have her eyes on this bloodline. She Haunts Applekin.

Rainflower is Hailstar's deputy. And I will make her downfall spectacular. If you were worried I was going to make her more sympathetic then you have no idea who I am LMAO

Shellheart is not Crookedstar's biofather While I want Hailstar to maybe be worse; I do want to fix Shellheart by making him a good parent. I've decided a good way to do this is to make it that Shellheart adopts Storm AFTER he's been abused by Rainflower. He didn't have authority over him before then. In general, I do want him to have a bigger positive role in this narrative. DEPENDING ON WHICH VERSION: Oakheart might also not be his bio-brother.

Crookedjaw is not a cruel name; it's an Honor Title. I've ALWAYS been frustrated by how canon treats scars and injuries as bad things. It's a BATTLE culture. Surviving brushes with death is their WHOLE THING. There is no "crookedkit" or "crookedpaw," he was Stormpaw until he earned his warrior name, with "Crookedjaw" commending the massive lengths he's gone to in order to survive, adapt, and honor StarClan.

Mentor change: Goodbye Cedarpelt, hello Magpiesky! I decided to repurpose one of the Barn Cats! Magpie from the books is a daughter of Perchshine-- the cat who killed Mapleshade. She joined RiverClan long ago. She's actually the one who points him in the way of the barn, and has to train him "as a punishment for teaching him disobedience" when he comes back. I actually have a couple of minor reasons for making this change but I'll spare them for now. He might start with Cedarpelt, but then run to the barn when Cedarpelt is basically refusing to train him properly.

Some family tree shuffles I need to update this tree to show Crookedstar's new situation with Shellheart (and also reflect some other changes I made like confirming Hallowflight fully being Lizardtail's honor title and Robinpaw being the apprentice who gets eaten by Ripwater), BUT, overall this tree is solid.

The ableism Storm faces is going to have a different flavor I have built BB in a way where him surviving his injury would be very respected, but he'd get badly coddled and pushed into early retirement. Him running to the barn is because he suspects he wouldn't have gotten training otherwise.

He kills a fox there because it's Cool. I might give him the tail to wear as a trophy of the kill because that's also Cool. The fox was very old and feeble at that point, which was why it was attacking chickens, but shhh

The Way It Was (Very Evil Mapleshade)

Darkstar's Commandment creating the Queen's Rights, that no queen would ever have to reveal the other parent of their kittens, wasn't enough to appease Mapleshade.

Nor was the damning of everyone that Mapleshade killed. In a fit of irrational fury at all the death, StarClan sent all her victims into the Dark Forest.

But she can't chase them. In the Dark Forest, you don't see someone unless you WANT to see them, not unless you're hanging out in a "land mar" (a sort of personal hell that all demons get).

on the off-chance she does see them, Frecklewish usually rips her to shreds...

Which is the next problem.

You can't DIE in the Dark Forest if you're a demon. You poof back into existence the next day, no injuries, no scars, nothing.

she's bored.

And vengeful. In spite of the wrong being righted, she still thinks she deserves MORE revenge, because what she wanted was really Appledusk.

She finds it unfair that HER legacy is snuffed out, that it's Darkstar's Commandment and not hers, that her babies were destined for greatness and by extension SHE should have been great.

So she takes up a hobby in tormenting Appledusk's descendants. She wants to eradicate them completely, but is spiteful enough that she'll just settle with hurting them.

The first one she managed to kill was Applefrost, Reedshine's son. Just by accident. She didn't know she had such power over the mortal plane.

After that, she managed to drown Duskwater. The daughter.

But she couldn't wipe out HER daughter in that storm... and she brought two more Applekin children into the world.

Stormkit and Oakkit.

So, naturally, Mapleshade turned her sight on the little fuzzball.

He would be an easy kill, in theory. She smashed Stormkit's jaw on the rock, but Oakkit pulled him out.

From there, it's similar to canon for a bit. His recovery is long and painful.

Rainflower is disgusted, and wants absolutely no part of helping him through this process.

That wasn't an injury gained in battle-- it's because he's careless and didn't listen to her. He's going through all this suffering, and for what?

To never become a warrior?

She's cruel to him, begins to neglect and distance herself from him. Discourages him from suckling.

Mapleshade LOVES this. It's worse than she could have imagined. Rainflower is horrible.

Gleefully, she realizes that Stormkit dying now is what Rainflower wants.

So, she kills two other kits in the nursery.

Fallowtail's only survivor is Willowkit, so she has plenty of milk. She starts suckling Stormkit.

(Graypool is now an older sibling! She's actually an apprentice at this time! Later, she encourages Willowkit to visit their father, who decides to just kidnap them completely)

Eventually, being the deputy, Rainflower had some kind of conversation with Hailstar.

During that conversation, she asked him to do something very cruel to Crookedkit.

And Hailstar LOST IT

He's the successor of Volestar, who was appointed by Darkstar herself to uphold the Queen's Rights and protect children.

How DARE you try to turn RiverClan into a place of disrespect?? To use my power this way?!

So, her power was stripped, and Oakkit and Stormkit were taken from her.

From there, Storm eventually goes to the barn as discussed, and Mapleshade continues to do things to hurt him.

This was my first draft, and now having thought about it a lot, I feel like it's not super cohesive. A demonic Mapleshade who's entirely malicious is neat, but I feel like this makes her flat. Shellheart's not tied in super well either, and Hailstar's stand feels kind of hollow because Rainflower hasn't actually used or leveraged the new authority I've given her.

But most egregiously? Rainflower's abuse being so close to canon tastes kind of bland. I feel like I can make it sooo much more intense, complicated, and painful.

Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon (Demon of Revenge Update) Essentially an outline for the first few chapters establishing Mapleshade by dealing with Rainflower and then fragments for the rest.

Mapleshade's still malicious, but this time, there's more to it.

Darkstar's Commandment, and the damning of her victims, DID appease this Mapleshade.

But is she satisfied? No.

She doesn't feel like she was wrong at all, actually. Without her killing those three in revenge for her kittens, StarClan's anger probably would have subsided.

She can't hunt her victims down again though, because, they don't want to see her. She fights Frecklewish every now and then but what's the point?

She WON already. She already GOT the euphoria of dragging them all down with her.

Punishing everyone who had ever wronged her was the highlight of her existence... but now it's done.

She's in Hell and she's bored. Her punishment is never seeing her kits again, but more importantly, her punishment is eternal shuffling through the leaf litter when she's SO GOOD at getting revenge.

Problem with revenge is, when you get it, it's gone.

She probably messed with Duskwater and Applefrost a bit, but if she killed one of them, it was accidental. It made her realize that revenge without a motive is just boring.

The prologue would probably open up with establishing her as a character. Who she is, what she wants.

Because the first chapter would dive RIGHT IN to Stormkit. The only child of Rainflower, the deputy.

Right along with Stormkit, you only learn in hindsight that he was born in a storm that killed his grandmother. It's clear that Rainflower reminds him of this often.

And that she's nasty to him. Giving him unclear instruction and finding things to critique, telling him to jump and then barking at him that he didn't ask how high.

She has great expectations for him, and reminds him of their family lineage often. Of who killed his great-grandfather, of what a fantastic pair of warriors Applefrost and Duskwater were

"I lost everything the night you were born. You'd better be able to make up for it."

Unfortunately, Stormkit is not the sort of child who's good at listening to those sorts of orders. He's stubborn and defiant; angry and oppositional.

When he doesn't understand why you do something, he doesn't want to do it

He "embarrasses" her a lot, and gets hurt for it.

In public, these are swats and whacks. The things you're "allowed" to do to discipline your child. In private these are a lot more severe.

So when Stormkit is given an order or a command, he obeys completely out of fear rather than respect. And sometimes he forgets his fear.

The other cats in RiverClan? Well... Stormkit is a problem child, and Rainflower is a fantastic, organized, respected deputy.

Hailstar especially, unfortunately. He feels bad... for Rainflower.

"It must be so hard for her to have such a little brat as a son. He never seems to learn his lesson. When will he stop wandering off? What's wrong with him? He certainly didn't get that from her."

His best friend, Oakkit, gets in the SAME trouble he does.

He's mischievous, fearless, and outgoing, and... never gets punished for it.

There's times where Oakkit does something and Stormkit physically recoils, just imagining what Rainflower would do if HE did something like that. Especially in how Oakkit talks to his dad, Shellheart.

For example, Shellheart will come to get his son for suckling time and Oakkit will tell him to his face things like, "I don't want to! I'm HAVING FUN!"

and shellheart doesn't flip out. He just. explains why it's important to eat on time.

"I know. But Fallowtail wants to go have fun too! She's waiting for you to come and suckle so she can go play."

"Well why can't she just play now and I suckle later?"

"When a suckler is full of milk, it makes their belly very itchy. She's uncomfortable when you don't come and eat on time."

"nnnh"

"Tough sell? How about I sweeten the pile with a badger ride back?"

"Hm. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Dad."

Stormkit doesn't know why he hates it. He's all angry inside when he sees them acting friendly. He's polite because Oakkit's his best friend and Mr. Shellheart is really nice, but he just...

He's too young at the time to know he's envious. He wants what Oakkit has so badly it hurts.

Sometime after an exchange like that, Stormkit is visited by Mapleshade for the first time.

And they talk about Stormkit's anger and resentment. Stormkit lets it slip that he HATES his Mi.

Waits for Mapleshade to stop him and tell him, like everyone else does, that "she's still your mother."

...but she doesn't.

Besides Oakkit and Shellheart, she's the first person who doesn't tell him that.

She just lets him talk. Lets him go on. Starts making nasty jabs, which make him laugh.

"She says she lost everything the day I was born!!"

"What?! That's crazy! She got you that day!"

"Right?! It's like she's saying I'm nothing! Maybe she SHOULD lose everything, then she'd know what she's got!"

And then she asks, "Do you want her to die?"

Suddenly, there's a chill in the air. He's really shocked by the suggestion of that. He didn't... he didn't mean it to go THAT far. That's not what he meant... is it?

But she's fading back into the shadows, just her eyes visible in the dark. Tells him that she can see he's unsure. That's ok.

Holds up a budding sprig of sycamore, the maple she's named for. Its buds grow in a "deer hoof," with one large bud in the middle and two "toes" sprouting on its sides.

Teaches him that if he needs someone in his corner, all he has to do is call.

(to summon her, a bud is plucked off the sprig and thrown in the river.)

He wakes up with the sprig in his paw, panics, and shoves it under the nest he shares with his mother.

The experience shakes him. He probably ran to Brambleberry for the first time, who explains very seriously that he was contacted by a demon.

From the description... Mapleshade. The cat who killed his great-grandfather.

He BEGS her not to tell Rainflower. PLEADS with her. He can barely hear her already saying yes under the throbbing sound of his heart in his ears.

When he calms down, he hears her saying yes. On the condition she will need to smoke the nursery with sage and cedar, and that he will be needing a bath as well.

When he's still concerned that Rainflower will question him, she makes a plan to distract her for a day, long enough for him to do his cleanse and the smell to fade.

And, of course, that he will not follow any instructions that Mapleshade left him. He agrees. But does not tell Brambleberry about the sprig.

For a while he's very "well behaved." But it's not about him, never has been.

It really doesn't take long at all for Rainflower to get worse. Kids who are defiant like that are usually exercising a defense mechanism-- if they're not aggressive about their boundaries, their limits are pushed to a breaking point.

And after a big blowout like this, which was probably a public spectacle, Stormkit runs back to his nest and digs out the sprig, runs to the river, and throws a bud in the river.

Having calmed down from his shuddering fury, the dread begins to set in as a dead-smelling wind ruffles his fur. He can't help but feel like he just did something very stupid out of anger.

Looking at his reflection, he sees no cuts or swelling. The blows weren't "bad enough." He doesn't have the kind of injuries that anyone would do anything about. Equal parts guilt and frustration swell in him like a tide at full moon. How could he be sitting here wishing she hurt him worse?

So he tries to soften it, "I don't want her to die, I just, I... I just want her to lose everything like she says. Please..."

The wind whispers in his ear, "it will get worse before it gets better."

"I can handle that," he sobs, "I can do anything. Please. Make it stop."

After that, Oakkit probably runs to come find him. Stormkit doesn't want to be found. He makes up a childish plan, on the spot, to run away and join ThunderClan.

Oak says that's mousebrained, but Storm has DEVOTED himself to this plan he made just now.

And is crossing the stones.

Oak sighs, but if Storm's going to ThunderClan, he should really go with him because then they could totally fight off a small fox (Childish hubris)

Unfortunately, Rainflower found them. asks Exactly What He's Doing.

The kids freeze. Stormkit in particular has that horrible, twisting anxiety that you get when you hear The Tone that means you're in for an absolute wallop when you get home.

He's about to start running, but then the voice tickles his ear-fur again. Mapleshade tells him to go back. It'll be ok. She's on his side. She'll make her pay.

Oakkit is still frozen in place when, as if possessed, Storm's body stiffly returns to his mother.

There's a silence. The river trickling through the stepping stones. Storm looking with fear and anger up at her.

She's waiting for an apology, groveling. He doesn't give her one.

So she raises her paw and gives him an awful, hard blow.

His little body twists, flung off balance, trying to correct himself, and he can swear he felt paws pushing him a second time, whipping him downwards.

The feeling of falling fills his stomach, the water sloshes into his ears before there's a ring of a sound like CLUNK-CRUNCH, and then the river floods his nose and mouth.

It all goes dark.

When he wakes up, it's with a throbbing pain in the side of his jaw so intense that he can feel it all the way down in the tip of his tail. He learns from Brambleberry that Oakkit rescued him-- jumped right into the water to pull him out. And then Rainflower pulled him out. That was when Shellheart came and found them.

There's a LOT of arguing outside, but Storm can't ask what it is because it hurts to move his mouth at all. Brambleberry hushes and soothes him, telling him it's nothing he needs to know about.

(MEDICAL INFODUMPING: i do actually have a medical reason I want his injury to come from someone hitting him which causes him to fall. The injury he'd get in canon would actually be a really simple and common split in the front of the mandible, which wouldn't cause his mouth to have a dramatic twist and would heal very easily. He needs to come down on the rock at an angle to shatter the joint like that.)

From here, the tune about Stormkit starts to change.

Oakkit was distraught when they got back, telling everyone that Rainflower smashed him against a rock.

Rainflower's story is that he was running, and she chased after him. EVERYONE knows that he has a habit of doing this.

Then HE slipped and fell and hit his face on the rocks. His fault.

Oakkit was running away with him, he's lying.

Shellheart is FEROCIOUSLY taking the side of his son, furious that she would imply he raised a liar.

Hailstar is taking the side of Rainflower. It's two troublemaking kits against his deputy.

Yes, Rainflower's disciplined him before, but that's no indication she'd do something like this on purpose.

Brambleberry weighs in that the injury that Stormkit has isn't the sort of injury a kitten gets from hitting his jaw. The bone is shattered.

probably does some kind of visual to go along with it, using a stick and a stone

"The bones of a kitten are like the young shoots of a tree. When they fracture," she takes a young twig and snaps it in her paws. The fibers in the center are bent but unbroken, with the bark splintered around them, "they flay but don't snap."

She places the stick on the ground, "So for the injury that Stormkit has," and violently smashes the rock down onto it. It's shattered and pulped, the fibers flattened, "there would need to be a great force."

Shellheart hisses, saying that THIS is the evidence. Oakkit's story is consistent but Rainflower HAS to have lied.

Several cats are now on his side.

...But more are on Rainflower's.

"She's his mother. She loves him. Oakkit has to be mistaken."

"Why would she chase down her own son just to smash his face on a stone?"

"She wouldn't pull them out of the river if she really wanted to hurt him!"

Hailstar prompts if there's ANYTHING else that could explain this?

It comes up that Brambleberry cleansed the dens the other day.

She says that it's possible there is a demon's influence at work. She can't know for sure which one it is-- but it may have a grudge against Rainflower.

She allows them to reach the conclusion that it's probably Mapleshade on their own. She will be talking to Crookedkit when he's able, but she's not about to tell anyone about his dream yet.

She doesn't want him to have the extra scrutiny when he needs to rest and heal, but if she'd shared that an unnamed cat had a demonic dream, it would set off panic as cats accused each other of dark magic.

Rainflower manages to escape consequences by pointing out that it was likely Mapleshade that injured her son.

Oakkit is still trying to tell everyone SHE did it, he SAW it, Stormkit walked back and she hit him and smashed his jaw on the rock

But he's hushed. It's decided there's not enough evidence. And not enough reason to doubt the noble deputy.

She's never done something like this before, after all. It's more likely it was an accident.

There is a group of cats that are dissatisfied about this, though, and it only grows when Brambleberry explains that Stormkit's prognosis is not good.

There is a very high chance he will die. Even adult warriors can wither slowly from this sort of injury.

Recovery will be slow and it will be painful.

...but after that incident? Rainflower gets bolder. She got away with it in public. She got a taste of the leverage she has, how much they trust her.

Stormkit spends a lot of time floating in between his dreams and his living-world pain. There's at least one interaction where he speaks to Mapleshade, screaming at her that he TRUSTED her, he KNOWS she's the one who hurt him! How could she?!

She can't say much, kept at bay by a hazy smokescreen of sage. "You must live! You must survive!"

Her old words echo in his head; It Will Get Worse Before It Gets Better.

Throughout the recovery, Rainflower grows more cruel and more distant.

In public she likes to talk about how difficult this is for her, but he's strong, he will survive.

In private, she'll do things that hurt him, like repositioning his head in a way that "his jaw will heal better in." When he cries, she's unsympathetic.

"You brought this on yourself. This is for your own good."

Her definition of "private" is also changing. She's getting more comfortable with snapping at him in front of limited groups of people.

Since she's deputy, the other two parents in the nursery, Shellheart and Fallowtail, do their best to care for Stormkit while she's away. He's pulled away from them when she gets back, any ideas or suggestions they have vetoed.

When they try to go to Brambleberry about this, she shakes her head with frustration and tries to make them understand she knows... and she's just as unhappy with it as they are.

She tells them she keeps going to Hailstar, but he's still hesitant. Even though she's trying to tell him that Stormkit's recovery is being undermined.

"Rainflower's son has always needed tough love. She's his Mi and knows him best... she's still taking care of him. Give her a warning before suggesting anything drastic."

In the other draft, I had Mapleshade kill two of Fallowtail's kits to free up milk for Stormkit. I'm not sure I need that anymore honestly, plus, this rework's heavy enough! She can just have Willowkit without any deaths, while Graypaw remains an older sibling.

When Brambleberry informs Rainflower and Stormkit that the jaw isn't healing straight and it will probably be at an angle forever, Rainflower reacts with disdain.

"His first scar and it's nothing he earned?!"

She's reminded he might not even survive. He's lost weight. He's eating less. Stormkit curls up quietly. He hates how they talk about him like he can't hear them.

"Surviving is the bare minimum," she scoffs reflexively. There's a silence so thick you can cut it with a claw. After an uncomfortable heartbeat, she continues, "What kind of a life will he live if he-"

"a life," Brambleberry cuts in, "he'd live a life. And it can be a good one"

Rainflower growls, spitting that the twisted jaw is a disfigurement. He'll never be able to open his mouth all the way. He can't chew and he can't suckle forever. Stormkit will never become a warrior if he can't even dispatch a fish with a killing bite.

"Scars are the sign that StarClan has mended our bodies after fighting a good fight, making any Clanborn cat worthy of being an elder" Brambleberry preaches, "Names are what mark us, calling upon our ancestors to look down at us and witness our actions, Rainflower. Don't say anything you wouldn't want them to see."

Rainflower flicks her ear, seething, a rumble in her throat, "was that some kind of threat? As if I've said something wrong?"

"If you feel threatened, look within."

Stormkit resents all of this talk. He can feel his mother tensing up next to him, hears the low rumble progressing into a growl. When adults play stupid games with his mom, he's always the one who ends up dealing it. Why don't they get that?

It's only Shellheart who seems to have it click, "Hey, this is the nursery. Can you take it outside, please?"

As Brambleberry and Rainflower leave, Stormkit lays curled up in his nest, cold and alone. Oakkit leaves Shellheart's paws to curl up around his best friend.

Shellheart stares at them, shifting, but ultimately stays where he is.

There's a lot of words I could write there, between Storm and Oak. Ones where Storm speaks about how he just wants the pain to be done with. Others where Oak comforts him, tells him how much he means to him. More where they end up running into the wall that they're just two little kids and they've both learned the truth that they have no control over what happens when Rainflower comes back into that den.

But I think it would be good to end there, at the lowest point. Because it gets better.

Pissed off by being gently confronted, after her warning from Brambleberry, this is the moment where Rainflower goes too far.

Hailstar is gradually losing his patience. Every time this issue comes up, he's making some kind of new excuse for her.

She's still a competent deputy who holds the Clan together, but this has taken a toll on her reputation.

Her biggest mistake was becoming more open with her abuse after being emboldened. And I think Hailstar is beginning to feel like he's got "egg on his face."

After standing up for Rainflower several times, getting heat from Brambleberry, and now the Clan also starting to murmur...

It's getting very difficult to justify why he's sticking his neck out.

and maybe, part of him is starting to feel a little self-conscious about the way that his deputy is acting about her injured child.

When she comes storming up on this fateful day, interrupting whatever he was doing to make a proposition, it's the breaking point.

Her suggestion: "I've realized that there's only one way to ensure my son survives his injury. He's being haunted by our demon, which only started threatening him when he disobeyed me for the last time. WE need to teach him a lesson, and make sure StarClan gazes down upon him to acknowledge his mistakes."

"...how do you intend to do that?"

"Stormkit must be given a Dishonor Title."

A Dishonor Title, one of the greatest shames that a leader can put onto one of their warriors. A punishment that ranks just below exile in terms of severity.

"you want to put a dishonor title... on your child? one with a life-threatening injury?"

"One that acknowledges his carelessness. To protect him from the demon."

Protect him from the demon. "I see now what must be done."

Previously, I'd thought of Hailstar as someone who would be loud and merciless when he does this. Now I'm thinking it was something he put a lot of thought into. He stands up, brushes past her, and goes to talk to some of his most trusted cats. Brambleberry, his mate Echomist, an experienced warrior such as Piketooth or Ottersplash, and lastly, Shellheart.

So it's not a surprise to anyone but Rainflower herself. He doesn't want this to be dramatic. He doesn't want it to be another big scene. Stormkit has gone through enough.

When he eventually has this Clan meeting, he calls it quietly. In his address to the gathered cats, a crowd that Shellheart and his family are missing from at his request, he says that his greatest regret is that he didn't do this sooner. He even doubts that Mapleshade is haunting her at all-- now having seen her behavior, he says it's more likely that Rainflower bashed her own child against a rock and simply lied.

First, he announces that Stormkit will be removed from her care. He will no longer be of the Applekin bloodline.

She is banned from the nursery at the request of Fallowtail, and will only see Stormkit when supervised by his new Mi, Shellheart.

Brambleberry has already agreed to this necessity, and is performing a ritual so that StarClan may approve of this choice.

He also strips her of her deputyship, and appoints Ottersplash instead. (I might change this to a different deputy eventually)

Not everyone agrees with Hailstar. There's an uproar from Rainflower's supporters.

She was a VERY popular deputy.

More that are just uneasy, feeling that this was a BRUTAL punishment that she didn't deserve.

Lots are happy and optimistic, though. But the mixed reception is exactly why Hailstar asked Shellheart not to be here.

This isn't something Stormkit has to deal with right now.

When Darkstar herself, who created the Queen's Rights, was on her last life, she appointed Volestar to uphold the law as her legacy knowing that Oakstar might try to break it again.

Volestar appointed Hailstar, in the hopes that he would uphold her legacy in turn, to protect kittens and those who can't protect themselves.

He was late, and can only hope he was not too late. He hopes that Volestar can forgive him for that.

Meanwhile in the nursery, Shellheart, Oakkit, and Stormkit are alone, far in the back, where the padded moss keeps out arguing voices.

Oakkit, bless his little heart, is babbling with excitement because his best friend is his BROTHER now. And it's gonna be THE BEST.

He's talking about how it's fine he can't chew because now they can have soup, and they're going to make the nest bigger, and they can stay up later because they can whisper quieter if they're this close together

But Storm doesn't really hear him. His head's swimming, thinking about the dull ache in his jaw, how MAD his mom's going to be because he can't imagine her not finding a way to hurt him, how this is all his fault because he called Mapleshade.

He can't stop it anymore and starts sniffling, which turns into weeping. Still, he's TRYING not to bawl, knowing, knowing he looks stupid when he does that

Shellheart just pulls him in close, so he can bury his face in his fluffy chest. Tells him it's going to be ok. He's safe now. No one can hurt him there.

Not on his watch.

Unfortunately, it's not the last he sees of Mapleshade. After this...

Mapleshade shows him everything she did for him. Yes, she did smash his jaw-- but it was to get him away from his mother.

And she planted an idea here and there, just little whispers into Rainflower's ear. Nothing she wouldn't do all on her own.

And now... Mapleshade believes she's earned some respect.

Stormkit can't disagree... she did exactly what she told him she'd do.

And now that he's not Applekin anymore, they can be Real Friends. They could even strike up a partnership, of sorts. After all, what did StarClan do to help him?

It wasn't StarClan that answered his prayers.

I'm still figuring out what, exactly, she's going to want from him. I have a scintilla that she wants to give him a life, maybe as some kind of bridge to StarClan to see her kits?

Some strange "attempt" at redemption, perhaps? Which she ultimately doesn't get.

Not that she didn't enjoy doing all that for love of the game, mind you. She's very good at getting revenge and it's fun and exciting to pull it off.

But hey, if you're good at something, never do it for free.

What causes Mapleshade to ultimately turn, and begin haunting the bloodline again + Oakheart, is Crookedstar rejecting her in some way.

She comes to collect on her end of the bargain and he refuses, breaking their partnership. He chooses StarClan.

And then from there, it's ON again. Now she has another EXCUSE to do what she wanted to do, and take out her boredom and malice on his family.

This time, it includes Oakheart as well-- because he was Crookedstar's brother.

It was also her curse that harmed Willowbreeze and eventually Silverstream. She's on the warpath.

Maybe she actually helped make him leader on purpose. Like he explicitly asked so she helped him by making the squirrel omen, instead of just doing it for him unprompted. Still figuring it out.

Shortly after the scene where Stormkit cries, he needs to have a confrontation with Brambleberry about Mapleshade I think. She needs to explain why Dark Forest demons are seen as bad.

She's biased, of course, but it's not like she's TOTALLY wrong either. Cats like Mapleshade ARE vengeful, in ways many other spirits are not.

If you're curious, Crookedstar's dishonor title from Rainflower would have been something comparing him to a parasite and referencing his ""accident"" like Fleaskip or Midgefall.

The point she's trying to make with the Dishonor Title is that her son is an annoying bug who didn't listen, as well as subtly erase she fact she knocked him off that rock.

She wanted his name to say "everything that happened was my fault and my mom did nothing wrong"

Not that Hailstar got as far as even asking lmao

[sufferu]

I have a fanfic idea for you.

Growing up, Anastasia would dream of a boy in a world different from her own; while Subaru would get visits from a ghostly purple haired girl. They would soon grow to be like siblings, with Subaru showing the wonders of his world and its inventions, while Ana would tell him of her world and its wonders and dangers. She would then use her knowledge of the modern world to help her become more successful as a merchant, while helping Subaru with his own issues and how to better interact with others.

Come the day where Subaru finds himself in Lugunica, he would be more cautious and set out to find the only friend he has in this new world.

There are details to this story that probably needs fine-tuning or outright changes. And I honestly don't know if Subaru would fair better or if he still dies a number of times.

Of course, whether or not you are interested in the idea, I was wondering what your thoughts are on it, and whether or not it would be a good fanfic or at least a one-shot chapter.

I probably won’t write this simply because I’m already doing A Lot, but I think it does actually have a lot of potential! What I’d suggest is to keep a couple of things in mind:

What do Anastasia and Subaru get out of this relationship as they grow up? I imagine that Anastasia’s influence would make Subaru significantly cleverer and wilier, and that she’d assist him in making smart choices while also building his confidence in acting as HE sees fit instead of acting how other people expect him (especially since a lot of his insecurities come from his father and Anastasia is an orphan). Bonus: this would likely mean that he doesn’t actually become a drop-out like he does in canon, both because her influence would target the very flaws that led to such an event and because it would emphasize that their relationship really has had an impact on their lives. Meanwhile, Subaru’s openness and authenticity would probably help Anastasia lower the guards around her heart and be more openly charitable towards others rather than couching everything in “What can THEY do for ME?” and might even influence things like her sense of humor. Hell, maybe some of his interests inspire some of her business ventures, like his love of Light Novels. Not to mention the whole thing with him being from beyond the Great Waterfall, which she now has an exclusive window to see into.

How has their influence shaped the trajectory of one another’s lives? Like above, I’d suggest looking at their canon past experiences and seeing where you can maybe…reshape some events, in a way that’s noticeably more Subaru- or Anastasia-like. I’ve mentioned the drop-out thing and the expansive of Anastasia’s business endeavors, but perhaps Anastasia’s whole philosophy for how to rule a nation gets a bit tweaked as a result of Subaru’s influence as well.

How would Subaru know that this is Anastasia’s homeland? Perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps the possibility doesn’t even cross his mind: that seems very much like Subaru. Perhaps he doesn’t even recognize her at first. Does she recognize him? Is she miffed that he doesn’t also realize what’s going on? Does she not realize who he is until after Julius has already challenged him to a duel? How does this influence their interactions? Or — does someone like Ricardo figure out what’s going on before either of them ever do?

Do the visions stop when Subaru enters this new world? Does Subaru mourn their loss during the months before the Royal Selection Ceremony, adding to his accumulating stress? Does Anastasia panic about what might have happened to her old friend? —Or do they keep going, and now Anastasia is watching her old friend unravel before her eyes?

How does this impact Anastasia and Emilia’s relationship? I imagine Subaru gushed before about how he likes girls with silver hair, especially since he and Anastasia have a sibling-like relationship here (good choice btw). So does she see Emilia and go “Ah…” Is she resentful that Subaru is in EMILIA’s camp, and not her own? Does she respond by adapting and using it as a way to strengthen ties with another political camp? Does she grow fond of Emilia faster, or slower?

Anyway, I think there are a lot of things you could do with this fic! I’m basically never going to say that any idea is bad from the outset — execution is everything — but I can see a number of ways that this could go. I hope you give it a shot!

[otomes-and-tears]

please analyze Pran.. my wife.. i need more content about him and i Love the way you analyze shiloh so..

OH, YOU WANT ME TO TALK ABOUT PRAN?!? YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND! It's sad hours, so let me talk a little about attachment theory since it really struck me when I first played Pran's route. Attachment theory, in essence, is about how the relationships you had as a kid, especially with your parents or caregivers, shape how you connect with others later in life. Basically, if you felt safe, cared for, and supported as a kid, you’re more likely to form healthy, secure relationships as an adult. But if your caregivers were inconsistent, abusive, neglectful, or even overbearing, it can impact how you relate to others later in your life.

The theory originated from an experiment in the 70s where babies around 12-18 months old were put into a controlled environment with their mothers. They played with toys while their mom was present, establishing how the baby normally behaved with their mom around, and later on, a stranger walked into the room, establishing how they reacted to strangers while their mom was around. Moments later their mother walked out of the room, leaving the baby alone with the stranger. The baby usually got scared and distressed, and then their mother was instructed to walk back into the room-- that's the most crucial part of the experiment: how the child reacts to the reunion. Based on their behavioural patterns, Ainsworth identified three main attachment styles:

1- Secure: Where the baby got upset when their mom left, but calmed down quickly once she returned. It signalled that the babies trusted that their mother would return, found comfort in her, and were easily soothed when distressed. It signalled that their caregivers were attentive to their needs and present. 2- Anxious-Ambivalent: The baby got significantly more distressed when the mom left and had trouble calming down after she returned, clinging to their parent while also appearing mad at them. Tend to be clingy and fear leaving their caregiver's side. It signals a lack of a feeling of security from the child towards their parent and an inconsistent response to the child's emotional needs. 3- Insecure-Avoidant: The baby didn't seem to get upset by the mother leaving and didn't seem to care when she returned. Doesn't seek any comfort from the mother and doesn't interact with the stranger. Highly independent, can signal that they're independent from their caregivers, who don't fulfil the child's emotional needs.

Later on, in the mid-eighties, other researchers identified another attachment style based on new research:

4- Disorganised-insecure: A mix of avoidant and anxious reactions, tending to be unpredictable.

So… Where does Pran fit into all of this? Well, if you've played his route, you might be familiar with his backstory. If you haven't, fear not, for I have screenshots!

I remember this scene being like a punch in the gut to me. I had been whining about not really enjoying his route because I didn't get him the way I did with the other characters, but this specific scene put everything into perspective.

Pran was highly neglected as a child. Neither his physical or emotional needs were met by his parents, who he describes as hippies. Due to their beliefs, Pran was "homeschooled, " which alienated him from other children and affected his socialization skills. He's shown to be anxious and quiet as a kid, not really engaging with anyone and keeping those he meets at arms-length, a trait he still maintains later on in life.

He was also a people pleaser. His grandparents wanted him to get a better education and firmly opposed the way his parents raised him (and hated his father), so they were constantly at odds with Pran's parents. In his attempts to try and please his grandparents, he'd anger his parents, and in his attempts to anger his parents, he'd anger his grandparents. Since no one was ever happy, no matter what he chose, he chose to do nothing at all. He's closed off and a contrarian as a consequence of the neglect he suffered, and of being used by his family as a pawn in their in-fighting.

I think a lot of his behaviour is consistent with an Insecure-Avoidant type. His forced independence, the neglect he suffered, learning to mask his feelings and avoiding voicing them because he feared they wouldn't be heard. And all of this affected his relationships in the future. They're functional, utilitarian.

We see with JB how their entire relationship is entirely dependent on her insistence, and the effort that she puts in. No matter how many times she reiterates her interest, or tries to engage with him, he always seems to shut her down and insist that he doesn't care, even though he does genuinely grow to like her. Those are behaviours he adheres to to make others avoid him-- and since JB, above all, is someone who craves praise and attention, in theory, it should be the easiest way to make himself unappealing to her. But she stays. And Pran still withdraws, he isn't used to being able to rely on other people aside from himself (and later Jeremy) so he's unused to it. All his relationships before her were entirely physical and superficial so he could avoid the emotional labour.

Beneath the surface, I think Pran feels lonely and misunderstood. He's scared of admitting he cares and opening himself up to be a disappointment again. It's a sick way of feeling safe. His self-esteem is wrapped by his experiences-- your caregivers are the first figures you look up to for validation. The lack of positive attention, be it support, acknowledgement and their inconsistent at best presence in his life, not to mention his isolation from other kids which made him straight up lack other forms of external support and validation, made his sense of self-worth extremely low. Beneath the surface, I think Pran feels lonely and misunderstood. He's scared of admitting he cares and opening himself up to be a disappointment again. He prefers to pretend to be cold and aloof because it means that people expect nothing from him. And if they don't expect anything, it means he can't be a disappointment. He can't be rejected if he doesn't invest himself in a relationship in the first place.

That might have also stunted his ability to recognise and process his emotions in a healthy way, which could've manifested as an apparent numbness in his teen years.

Before anyone gets too depressed, this isn't a life sentence. I think that by opening himself up (in a way) to a relationship in the first place, Pran took a huge step in breaking that cycle. As pushy as JB can be, I do believe that she genuinely cares about her partner, and sticking around and reiterating her interest, engaging with him even when he does all in his power to push her away, could perhaps act like a positive to him.

If he thinks of himself as someone broken and unfixable, she shows him that he's worth the trouble.

[ameliaunquacksford]

The Tailor's Apprentice | Chapter 2

Summary: Tav is late on her first day and Astarion is already doubting the apprenticeship. He sticks it out anyway and has her take inventory, but she discovers a missing shipment of very expensive fabrics. Could it be an accident when Astarion has so many enemies, and one big competitor?

-Astarion x (female) Tav, post canon

-Also posted on Ao3

-Click here for Chapter 1

1.5k words

The shop opened five minutes ago and Tav wasn't here yet. A shame, because Astarion was quite looking forward to seeing her.

He spent another night slaving in the boutique, and by the time he finally got as far as he could in his orders, the sun had already risen and he wasn’t able to go home. So he spent the next two hours trancing then getting ready in the storage room. During that time he caught himself thinking of Tav, the scent of her blood, her pure admiration for the craft, for him. Why did she have to be late?

The door flew open and the bell violently jingled, and Tav stood panting at the door, cheeks flushed, the delicious smell of her blood wafting across the room. For a few moments she stood catching her breath, before slowly walking to the front desk, gaze trained on the dark hardwood floor, before she quietly spoke, “Sorry Astarion…”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, a million thoughts running through his head. How reliable can she really be if she’s late on the first day, not even bothering with an excuse?

“Don’t let it happen again,” he said firmly, and he watched as she physically deflated at his tone. This wasn’t a good start, but he did feel a little bad. Just a little.

“I suppose we should get started then, darling?” He couldn’t help the drawl on ‘darling’, despite trying to sound more cheerful and friendly. Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t really his thing. Could he be flirtatious? Obviously. Sarcastic? Absolutely. But nice? A mystery. 

“Yeah,” she blushed. At least his accidental seductive tone had her look a little less flat. 

“First thing’s first darling,” he said, grabbing a small notebook and paper and strolling from behind the desk to in front of Tav, “You’re going to be taking inventory. We just received a few shipments this morning,”

“Ah, right…” She looked quite disappointed. She could at least try to hide it.

“Sorry darling, I would teach you something more useful for this trade, but I’m too busy today. I’ve quite a few fittings,”

She nodded in understanding, “No, it’s alright, I get it,”

“Do you know how to take inventory, darling?”

“Just record what’s there, right?”

“Exactly,” he handed her the notebook and paper, “This is a list of what’s been delivered. Record what’s there in this notebook. If something is missing, tell me. I’ve moved the deliveries to the storage room on the right there. I’ll see you later darling,”

Her eyebrows squirmed together, she lifted her hands in front of her and held them in L shapes, and Astarion realised she doesn’t know her lefts and rights. Does she know much of anything?

——————————————————————————————————

It’s nice, he realised, not having to worry about taking stock today. It was the part he hated most about this business. He obviously knew when starting the business that it wouldn’t be easy, that there would be complications, keeping count of businessy things. He never realised just how much logistics and counting were involved until he finally committed. 

He really only started the boutique because he had nothing to do. First he was slaving away to his master, then he was going on all sorts of misadventures and saving the sitting, and then he had everything he could ever want; freedom, revenge, money.

Well, mostly everything. He still couldn’t see his reflection, or walk in the sun, or regularly drink the blood of thinking creatures. But his life was significantly better.

And he was bored. A nice big mansion is only big when it’s filled with people. Otherwise, it’s just lonely. 

All of his companions went their own ways, and while he appreciated their company on their journey, and even considered them his friends (ugh), he was just… Never as close with them as they were to each other. So he was left alone in Baldur’s Gate.

His boredom was his own fault. He could’ve helped the thousands of spawn in the Underdark. Would’ve given him a purpose. He could’ve offered to go with one of his ex-companions, but would they have said yes?

He liked fashion. He liked sewing. He was pretty good at it. Why not open a boutique? That’s much easier than looking after 7000 vampire spawn, especially when a significant amount of those spawn are his victims.

And of course it was easier. But it was still so much more difficult than he ever thought.

He started with hope, his boutique lavish and luxurious, polished floors and furniture, royal blue wallpaper with a golden pattern. Lots of flattering lighting to make up for the lack of windows. If he weren’t already rich, he’d have gone out of business after a tenday. His taste was too expensive for a newly opened small business.

It was why Figaro thought he was a fraud trying to steal his business. Maybe he was, at one point, but he had long given up by the time all the new customers started randomly pouring in. 

Astarion wondered if Figaro knew of his newfound success, and how he’d react. Would he be jealous? Angry? Happy to have some friendly competition? Perhaps he’d want to collaborate on a collection together. Astarion did save him from a Bhaal cultist, after all, maybe Figaro would be happy for him, unless he assumed Astarion somehow stole his customers after all these years.

Before he could wonder anymore, Figaro stormed into Astarion’s working room, and he immediately knew the answer. 

“Astarion Acunin!” he bellowed, his fists raving in the air, his face red with anger.

Astarion was busy, to be frank. He was making a marvelous wedding dress that would be covered in all sorts of embellishments that he’d have to do by hand, and the bride was coming in for a fitting later. But his back ached from being hunched over the train, and his hand cramped from hours of embroidering. A break would be nice.

“Yes, darling?” Astarion smirked. 

Figaro stomped toward him, pointing an accusatory finger, “Tell me why that for the past tenday I’ve been getting less and less customers, and when I wander the streets, I watch in horror as people adorn themselves with- with-” he struggled to find the right word, “Garbage!”

“Garbage, darling? What parts of the city are you wandering? Where I go, everyone is dressed marvelously,” Astarion rubbed his chin in mock-contemplation, and before Figaro could start raving again, he gasped loudly. “You don’t think your sister’s business exploded in popularity, do you? That would explain why you’re getting less customers, my dear Figaro! You must do something!”

Figaro seethed, his small stature barely containing his anger “Everyone has been speaking of your business for days now! My old customers, ‘trying something new’, something more fashion-forward! You of all people!”

Astarion was a little offended at that.

“Figaro, darling, you know I’ve admired your fashion in the past. It is your suits I’ve adorned before starting this boutique. Have I tried stealing your customers in the past? Of course, that’s just business, darling. But I can assure you, this new boom is just as much of a surprise for me as it is for you,”

Figaro seemed to calm down slightly at that.

“It’s not my fault the fashions have changed and you’ve stayed outdated, darling. I suppose I’m just ahead of my time. Now you’ll just have to keep up,” he smirked, seeing the rage bubble up in Figaro once more. But Figaro contained himself this time, for the most part.

“Astarion… You may have the customers now, but they’ll come back to me. They’ll realise how ridiculous they look in your garb , how my fashion is the best fashion in the lower city, nay, the whole of Baldur’s Gate, and they’ll look back on this time in embarrassment and shame at the horrors they adorned and called clothing! Just you wait, Acunin!” he proclaimed, pride filling his chest.

“Remember the time I saved you from a Bhaal cultist?”

Figaro stormed off and Astarion chuckled to himself, sufficiently entertained for the day. 

He was alone for another few minutes, his attention solely absorbed on the dress before him, until he heard a small ‘ahem’ coming from the door, he turned around and saw Tav’s nervous face. How long has she been standing there?

“Um.. Astarion?” She was fidgeting with the ring on her finger, her eyes darting around the room, looking at anything but him.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“There’s… There’s a shipment missing…” she said quietly, her voice shaking a little.

“A shipment is missing? Which one?” This could be bad. The majority of the shipments were expensive, and some took tendays to arrive. But there were a few smaller shipments of ribbons and small sewing supplies. He could afford to lose those.

“The brocaded silks…” 

The most expensive one. Shit.

Astarion shot up, quickly moving toward Tav. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Y-es, I tripled checked! They're not there," she stuttered, curling up under his gaze.

The thing is, Astarion spent last night in the storage room, and he made sure  that the brocaded silks arrived specifically. He needed them for his a project for one of his most important clients. How could they have gone missing?

Realisation dawns upon him. Figaro.

——————————————————————————————————

Click here for Chapter 3

[deabruarenjarraitzaileaya-ha]

Eyeshield 21: 2024 Winter Gift Exchange

For @beansterpie

Sorry I'm late, hope you like it! This fic dips a bit into my headcanons (mostly our headcanons at this point lol) for the university years, with as many of your prompts as I was able to fit.

And thank you @eyeshields for organising this event once again! It's always so much fun ❤️❤️

“ENMA!”

“FIRES!”

“ENMA!”

“FIRES!”

The Enma university students and supporters waved their flame-shaped foam gloves as their kicker got ready for the point after touchdown. The score was 21-13, and the crowd was rippling with anticipation as number 99 pocketed his comb, ran up to the 10-yard-line and kicked the ball.

The stadium roared when it made a beautiful arc and passed directly through the middle of the posts. The counter changed to 21-14, and the Enma Fires were suddenly one touchdown away from tying with the Nihon Phoenixes. 

“Kotarou-kun’s kicks are as beautiful as always,” commented Anezaki Mamori, assistant manager of the Saikyoudai Wizards, making a cursory annotation on her notebook.  

“Fuu, like an electrifying riff from Tom Morello’s guitar.” While she considered herself passably good at musical theory, she could never keep up with Akaba’s more specific music tastes, so she could only nod and smile. 

The Wizards had a whole team of workers and volunteers that took care of the data recollection and analysis of other teams—unlike the Deimon Devil Bats, who were only an official team because of Kurita’s fiery determination and Hiruma’s efficiently frightening methods, and as such had barely enough people to play a match, let alone to gather data and take care of other administrative tasks. 

Right then, Obara-san was attending to an overly complicated camera Mamori had no hope to ever understand, while Masao-kun recorded the match from a closer angle and Izaya-san wrote down the times of the plays. Mamori didn’t need to be here—none of them did, really— but it was the Enma Fires. Friendly rivalries required both cheering the team on and taking note of their strategies to overanalyse them before the next match. 

Ikkyu leaned back on his seat, a slight quirk to his lips. “It’s almost half-time; if Unsui-san can keep this rhythm until then, the flow of the match should stay in their favour.”

“Kekeke, the Phoenixes are good but way too straightforward, they won’t be any match for that scheming fucking monk,” Hiruma agreed from the seat next to hers, unwrapping a new gum stick.

“Tch, they are lucky the Phoenixes are nothing special. Fires’ defense is shit and their offense is missing key players, they’ll lose against a better team,” said Agon, who was seated on Hiruma’s other side and nonchalantly munched on an energy bar he had grabbed from the blond’s bag.

(He had arrived 15 minutes late, complaining about the early hour—even though their usual morning practice started significantly earlier and he had not missed a single one lately. Even the upperclassmen had tensed up when he just plopped down and kicked his feet up into another seat, but Hiruma had only cackled and called him a sweet little brother that came when called.

“Aaaah!? Like I’d come just because you said so, trash. Are you delusional?”

Personally, Mamori thought Hiruma needling him was 80% of the reason why Agon did anything these days, but felt it would be impolite to point it out aloud.

“Besides Unsui, Hiruma is the only one who is able to steer Agon through his wildest moods,” Banba had told her the time they had brought the data of their last match for analysis to the cute new patisserie next to their campus, the one that boasted the best French chocolate-dipped cream puffs in Tokyo. “As long as it works, they can keep at it.”

That seemed to be more or less the consensus everyone on the team—and in university as a whole, it seemed— had arrived to. Not that anyone would admit to it; Agon was still terrifying.)

Yamabushi rubbed his hairy chin in thought. “Phoenixes’ line is no match for Kurita. Right now, not even the upperclassmen can beat him in a one on one, the only one in Japan who can challenge him is Gaou.”

“That fat trash can plough through the centre to open a path and Unsui can think up all the strategies he wants, but the only half decent runningback is number 15 and all receivers are trash. Their only trump card is that kick freak.”

“Don’t underestimate the effectiveness of kick plays,” Akaba said, just as Enma stole the ball and started their offense yet again. “They have no counter for Kotarou’s kicks, and his success rate is 99% in good weather; with Kurita and Unsui it won’t be difficult to secure a down, and from there they have three points guaranteed.”

And just like their kick expert predicted, the Fires managed to score two field kicks before halftime and were just one point away from tying the match. The next 20 minutes were spent comparing notes and predictions, asking Obara-san to watch a few of the recordings, and trying to ignore the two devils insulting each other almost gleefully. Even the older adults have given up on getting them to sit properly and without profanity.

The second half started with both teams giving their all. While taking notes, Mamori felt her phone vibrate and she pulled it out to read the text. “Banba has just finished his history exam and won’t make it before the end of the match. He’ll meet us at the train station.”

The announcement was met with nods and words of acknowledgement, except—

“Banba, huh?” Hiruma repeated, rolling his head to glance at her from the corner of his eye.

(She wasn’t sure what he was even implying with that tone. There was nothing to imply, other than a polite, reliable friendship born during these past months while trying to wrangle a team of eccentric geniuses and an overly stubborn coach, but long dealings with Hiruma Youichi had made her realise that he often just said things to get a reaction—people apparently gave away a lot of information inadvertently when mad and discomfited— and she refused to play the game his way.)

She smacked his shoulder with her notebook. “Stop putting your feet up on the seats, Hiruma-kun.”

His grin was razor sharp as he turned his attention back to the game. Underneath his usual devilish bravado, she noticed the dark skin under his eyes and the slight slump to his usually lounging posture. She wouldn’t deny worrying about him—he was exasperating, but Mamori liked to think they were friends of a sort, after all this time—and the year had been hard on everyone, but especially him.

She had seen him in various states of exhaustion and hurt before, (during the death march, after those “secret” training sessions he did after everyone went home, when Gaou broke his arm in the match against Hakushuu Dinosaurs…) but the training regimen he had gone through that year was nothing short of brutal. She had wanted to stop him, remind him that no matter what he liked to pretend he was still human, but she also understood: out of everyone on the team—even herself—he was the one who had had to earn his position the most; and it was only now, in the autumn season, when he had convinced the coach to make him an starter player. The assistant trainer, Hirayama-san , had helped by designing his diet and training, and even by keeping tempers cool when Hiruma and the coach inevitably butted heads. The players that had gone with him to the Youth Club had supported him, of course—and Mamori was pretty sure Hiruma had spent time training with Agon one on one to hone his skills even more—but in the end it had been all his merit, to get better and stronger and faster, enough that even an old coach set in his ways couldn’t find fault with making him the starter quarterback.

As she had done during their time in Deimon, she would support him from the bench while he thrived in his natural habitat: confounding the rival team on the football pitch. 

“The Phoenix players are standing closer than before,” she noted, comparing her annotations on their positions in previous plays with where they were standing at the moment. “They are going to try and stop Kotarou-kun from kicking.”

“Well, that just leaves an opening for countless trick plays, and that fucking monk won’t waste such an opportunity.”

What followed were many minutes of frantic scrambling and last minute saves on the Phoenixes’ part, while the Fires slowly but steadily gained ground. The stadium cheered both teams, with Enma students chanting their call and response song—some said “Enma” while others answered with “Fires”, but Mamori wasn’t sure how it was decided who said what. Had they practiced beforehand? Such a dedicated fanbase!

They were nearing the end of the match. The Fires’ captain being a man of few words, it apparently fell on the quarterback to say a few words to the team just before their last play. “Our passion for football is unmatched,” they heard Unsui say, face serious and set with determination. “A fire that rages hotter than any inferno. Like fire, it will burn any opponent to the ground. Like fire, it will light a path to the Rice Bowl. BURN WITH PASSION, ENMA FIRES!”

“Ugh, that was corny as shit, Unko-chan,“ Agon muttered, at a volume that suggested he’d never had to keep an opinion to himself.

Corny or not, the speech did its job; the team was properly fired up—Mamori giggled to herself at the pun—and ready to give their all and more. With two minutes left on the clock, anything could happen, but they would need to be at their best to win.

And win they did. Mamori took furious notes as Kotarou faked an onside kick, while Unsui used the previously unnoticed number 59 for a faint that looked vaguely inspired by the dragonfly and scored the final touchdown himself.

Hiruma’s cackle was heard loud and clear even with the whole stadium coming to life with a roar of celebration, and the Fires’ own shouts of joy and shocked amazement.

Among the Wizards, the feeling of satisfaction was palpable. Yamabushi even excused himself and climbed down the stairs to congratulate the Fires personally. Mamori watched him go fondly, tempted to follow, but decided to wait. The players were already celebrating by hugging and dancing and laughing.

“Their next match is against Ojou; it won’t be easy to overcome that perfect defense.”

“Not perfect.” Hiruma pointed a finger towards Ikkyu, grin razor-edged. “No team is perfect.”

“Fuu, you have a few ideas already, Hiruma?” 

“At the clubroom, fucking red-eyes.”

“Hey, what the fuck is that fat trash doing to Unko-chan?”

Mamori turned to the celebration and saw Kurita spinning around in joy while cradling Unsui to his chest. She would have thought nothing of it, if it weren’t for Hiruma’s answering cackle. And Kurita was a very effusive and tactile person but… mmh. 

“Aah!? The fuck you laughing about? Spill!”

“Kekeke, are you really so flummoxed by healthy camaraderie between football players? That’s so tragic, fucking dreads.”

“Are you pouting!? Don’t make that shitty face at me, trash, what the fuck. Stop laughing, trash!”

It was probably just Hiruma trying to get a rise out of Agon… but if it wasn’t, she’d probably hear about it the next time she met up with Kurita to sample Kariya’s cream puffs.

🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️🏈❄️

“Oi, trash, seriously, what the fuck was that about?” he asked yet again when they were climbing the stairs to Hiruma’s apartment. He didn’t want to think it over, that fat trash and his twin brother, but he couldn’t let it go. “You know something, don’t you? Tell me!”

A grin full of shark teeth was his only answer as Hiruma jiggled his keys and opened the door, and he grumbled as he followed the blond trash inside.

(Not like a dog. Not at all like that smelly mutt that followed Hiruma around all the time begging for scraps. No, stop that.)

He could see that the skinny trash was getting comfortable, pulling out his laptop and phone, probably planning to update his information network or player roster, and he wasn’t having it.

Faster than Hiruma could ever hope to move, Agon grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and pushed him against the wall. “Stop fucking around,” he growled.

Hiruma didn’t look particularly bothered, the crazy bastard, and popped a bubble of gum in the narrow space between them. “Well, this brings back memories,” he snickered, tilting his head to the side. Agon remembered that night when they first met back in middle school, both blond and several centimetres shorter, in this exact position. “Are you sure you want to know, fucking dreads?”

“Tell me what you know.”

“And then what? What will you do if I tell you they are good friends? If I tell you they are fucking? If I say they loathe each other's fucking guts but put on that little display just to fuck with your head? What then?”

Agon glared, fist opening and closing by his hip. Hiruma kept his toothy grin, tapping Agon’s wrist twice. “Think it over and ask your brother, dreads. Now, you wanna finish the Superbowl match we were watching yesterday? I have it paused.”

Clicking his tongue, he let the blond trash go and followed him to the tiny sofa. Arranging themselves into something resembling a comfortable position, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, they continue watching the only football players that could probably keep up with him plough each other to the ground. 

The next day he would text his brother. For the moment, Agon let his ankle brush Hiruma’s and pointed out what a better job he would have done at catching that number 46’s shitty pass.

[inks-lil-quiet-corner]

Meet Souda!

She's my Pikmin 4 Rescue Corps OC! :D

I'll put their lore and stuff about them under the cut -w-

(small warning it's pretty self-indulgent (and also really long) lol)

==================================

Backstory-

Name- Souda

Pronouns- She/They

Age (in Pikmin 4)- 23

Occupation- Rescue Corps Rookie

Before joining the Rescue Corps, Souda was born to a pair of space pirate crew members, and was raised by the crew. They never enjoyed their time with them, as the living conditions and the way they treated them were significantly less than ideal.

When they turned 17, Souda took one of the crew's spare single-person ships and flew away out of rebellion, but then crash landed onto a strange and unfamiliar planet. The ship surprisingly didn't sustain any major damages, but they still stayed on the planet for a short while to cool off and relax.

On the planet, she met many strange creatures, including both friends and foes. The friends included these strange carrot-shaped creatures that she simply labeled as "my friends." The first one she met, a blue one, she gave the personal name "Aqua" to and put a green bow tie on them to be able to tell them apart from the rest. The foes, on the other hand...she just kept her distance, too afraid to go near them.

Around a week later, out of fear of the space pirate crew tracking their ship's location (since they didn't know how to turn the feature off) and pillaging the planet for all it's worth, she left with the ship and returned back to the crew.

When they became 18, they considered genuinely leaving the space pirates for good. They were too afraid to simply quit the crew since those who did normally just became the crew's servants and were denied freedom, so they instead fled and sought out shelter in a populated planet.

Once free from the space pirates, they lived a peaceful life in the planet they now resided in, and later on decided to apply to join the Rescue Corps out of a strong desire to help others and to be a part of something good. When they got accepted and passed their training, they labeled it as one of the happiest days of their life.

She strongly wanted to fit in, so she tried to raise up her confidence and even dyed her hair green to match her unit's uniform. She studied things that she wasn't originally tested on during training, and tried befriending as many members of the Rescue Corps as possible.

When she was sent out to PNF-404 for the rescue mission and saw the pikmin and other creatures living on the planet, she simply thought that the planet she went to when she was 17 and this one just had the same species living in it, but she never believed that they could've been one and the same. That was, until she was reunited with Aqua.

Extra Notes-

She used to be a very gloomy character, but after going to the strange planet at 17, she suddenly became more cheerful and excitable. She herself isn't exactly sure what caused her sudden shift in personality, especially since some of her memories of being on the planet were either a blur or oddly missing

Her shift in personality was the catalyst for her escape attempt when she turned 18, since it helped her become more self-aware of the things going on around her and think of the possibilities for a better life

They never talk about their past, and only express their strong distaste towards space pirates while keeping the reasons for disliking them to themself. They want to one day help others that want to be free from a similar life that they experienced

They love learning new things about nature and civilization. They first only learned these things because of their old occupation, but after escaping they learned that they truly did love the topic. They also have a vast knowledge on a large amount of languages, and still study them whenever they can

After reading Olimar's research notes on PNF-404, they became a huge fan of his. They're determined to try their best to save him (and maybe also get his autograph? perhaps?)

If any pikmin perish, they hold a personal funeral for each and every one of them

......And that's all I have for them so far! If anyone's actually read this far in, thank you for reading!! Feel free to lemme know your thoughts! :D

[tinyinvadr]

Next chapter’s here!

TW: Mind control, dehumanization, needles

Psychoborrower: Whispering Rock

Chapter 8

The air was silent as Dreher stared us down. Without saying a word, his fury created a heavy tension that couldn’t be ignored.

“I’m only going to ask this once. Where is my vessel?”

Sasha didn’t respond. Staying quiet was better than giving him an answer. We needed to keep him in the dark for as long as possible until we could find a way to deal with him.

“Enough with your mind games, Nein. I know you didn’t kill it, so what did you do with it? Why can’t I access my vessel?”

“He was never yours to claim, Dreher. He’s a child.”

“No, he’s an anomaly! A scientific breakthrough! Think of all that we could accomplish if we utilized the tools at our disposal! Anything less would be a waste.”

“They’re not tools, they’re people! You’re toying with innocent lives! How the hell can you not see that?!”

Dreher smirked, his eyes locking onto me. A sinking feeling took over me as I already knew what was about to happen.

“Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”

What happened next, I couldn’t recall. It was like I skipped forward in time. I couldn’t decide which was worse. In the dream, I was fully conscious while I was being controlled, but in real life, it was like I stopped existing while it was happening. It terrified me to think of what would happen if he decided to take permanent residence in my head. I would essentially be dead.

I felt significantly weaker when I came back to my senses, and the first thing I saw was Dreher in a telekinetic chokehold, courtesy of Sasha. Still, even as he was being strangled, the twisted man smiled.

“Well, this is new, isn’t it? You’re so adamant about protecting those little lab rats, but you don’t hesitate to endanger your fellow man. And I thought that Dr. Loboto’s Moral Compass was off. You know, I could easily get out of this, but I’m curious to see how far you go.”

At that, Sasha tightened his grip.

“Stay out of his head. Have I made myself clear?”

Dreher forced a laugh out of his restricted windpipe, not at all fazed by the severe pain he was in.

“Do it. Throw the rest of your life and career away for a vessel. Though, it saddens me I won’t live to watch your downfall.”

Milla gave Sasha a stern look, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s enough. Let him go.”

Her disapproval was enough to snap him out of it, and he released his grip. Dreher went into a coughing fit, laughter escaping his throat in between his gasps for breath.

“So that’s it. You spared my life just because that overly sensitive bitch told you to. It just goes to show you were never-”

Both of them PSI-Blasted him in the head, cutting him off and knocking him to the ground. Thank god they were both in fighting shape, because I wasn’t, and it would’ve killed me if he was able to keep spouting his garbage after insulting Milla. She was one of the kindest people I’d ever met. She didn’t deserve to be badmouthed like that.

It looked like he’d been knocked unconscious, so Sasha cautiously approached him to check. I imagined the next course of action would be to swap him and Ash out in the GPC and hold him in there until the authorities arrived. That was the only way to ensure he couldn’t escape his own mind and cause any more damage.

But then, right as Sasha got close, Dreher sprang up and stabbed a syringe into his leg, making him fall to his knees. The doctor stood up, brushing himself off as if nothing happened, then smacked Sasha on the back of the head as he passed him.

“See you in hell.”

Milla rushed to Sasha’s side, tears welling up in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

“Sasha! What did he do to you?!”

He groaned in pain, clutching his chest as he glared at Dreher.

“This is the same drug you used to kill all the borrowers at PSI-Tech, isn’t it?”

Dreher didn’t need to respond. His smirk said it all.

I had to put a stop to him. There was no way I could allow him to walk around freely after that. So I decided to do the only thing I knew would keep him occupied, at least temporarily.

I asked Milla for her psycho-portal. She hesitated to give it to me, but she quickly realized that this was the only way to prevent Dreher from hurting Sasha again while she worked on getting him medical attention.

With an extra aggressive throw to make sure that portal hurt when it latched onto his head, I went in.

His mental world was the lab. It looked just like it did in my dream. Seeing it again made me sick.

“Well, that was rather stupid of you. Do you think marching straight into the lion’s den will be enough to stop the inevitable? I’ve already won, and now I have you. It’s just a matter of prying Ash’s location out of you, and the other two are completely unguarded. It’s over. You. Are. Mine.”

I shifted to human form, marching right up to him. In that moment, I was able to push down how afraid I was. I knew well enough what he was capable of, but that didn’t matter. I would do everything in my power to make him hurt, even if it was only a fraction of what he inflicted on those borrowers. And… on Sasha.

“Listen up, Dreher. I will NEVER stop fighting you. Whatever you do to me, I’ll fight it until my last breath. You will NEVER own me.”

He smirked, looking me dead in the eyes.

“I already do.”

From there, he took over again. I have no idea how long I was out for, but I was amazed that I’d somehow been able to maintain my astral projection. I was one injury away from getting kicked from his mind. I had to keep this up, though. I needed to distract him long enough for Milla to get help.

“You’re stronger than you look. Unfortunately for you, that works out in my favor. I prefer to have a vessel that can last longer. Though, you’re nowhere near as powerful as the Cryokinetic one, or the one that can teleport. Speaking of which, I should pay that one a visit. After all, none of this would have been possible if that child hadn’t been stupid enough to talk to me.”

Rox. So that was what happened. They weren’t afraid of humans, and Dreher took advantage of that. They were pushed out and cast aside by their colony, and he used that to gain their trust and get closer to the other psychic borrowers.

Despite how weak I was, I couldn’t resist the urge to use up the last of my energy and give him one final punch. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to hold my projection much longer, but I hated him so, so much.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to waste my energy on the creep.

“You wanna repeat that, pal?”

Coach had appeared, his arms folded. Maple and Rox were both perched on his shoulders, also looking angry.

“You were just being nice to me so you could hurt my friends?! Not cool, old man!”

Dreher scoffed. “It’s not my fault you were so easy to manipulate.”

At that, Coach scooped Rox off his shoulder, smirking.

“Give him hell, kid.”

I gasped as he suddenly threw them into the air, and as they shot up above our heads, they shifted into their giant form, landing on the ground with a deafening thud. Dreher didn’t have a chance to process what was happening as they suddenly grabbed him and slammed him down.

“Haha! Get crushed, idiot!”

Maple watched in horror as her sibling threw him around like a rag doll as he screamed in pain. Personally, I thought it was well deserved.

“Uh… Coach? Did you teach them that?”

“Nope! Kid’s just got a lot of pent up rage. But hey, good way to get it out of their system.”

“Huh… Alright then.”

After taking that beating, Dreher collapsed. He lied pathetically on the floor, taking shallow breaths as Rox loomed over him, ready to attack again if he dared to stand back up.

“You… You win. I surrender. Please… just leave my mind. I can’t take anymore…”

It looked like we’d finally worn him down, and we were about to leave when another presence suddenly appeared.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s lying.”

To my surprise, Ash had arrived. He marched right up to Dreher’s face, looking him dead in the eyes.

“But don’t worry. We won’t have to deal with him for much longer. Dr. Loboto’s taking care of him as we speak. We’ll know he’s done once we all get booted.”

Dreher scowled, then locked eyes with Rox. Before we knew it, he’d taken control. I could feel my heart stop as I saw his sinister expression overtake their enormous face.

“Not if I get rid of you first.”

[melishade]

For peaceful timeline: do the family and the villagers celebrate holidays and new years and how do they do it?

Also happy holiday and happy new year

Previous episode of the Peaceful Timeline

Well…it wasn’t really a celebration.

The first winter, Optimus had found the cabin and he and Ymir were busying refurbishing it. The snow in the mountains is significantly worse than at the bottom of the mountain. Optimus has to keep a pregnant Ymir warm by letting her sleep in his alt mode for the night. He has to keep Ymir healthy and safe.

As the cabin is fixed up completely and Megatron shows up, Optimus and Megatron work together to shovel snow out of the way of the cabin while gathering logs to start a fire and keep Ymir and Baby Maria warm. They manage to get furs to keep them warm and it if gets really severe in terms of weather, Ymir and Maria stay in Optimus’ alt mode to keep warm.

Once Maria is old enough and becomes aware of Ymir, Optimus, and Megatron, things are easier for time. Optimus and Megatron are able to much more easily scoop up the snow and keep the outside of the cabin clean. They were initially shoveling the snow away and Megatron continuously fell over in the frozen ice. Megatron still does, and Optimus sometimes buries Megatron’s holoform in the snow with his alt mode when they are clearing the snow.

The wintertime is still a scare for Maria's health specifically because Maria is more likely to get sick from the cold, compared to Ymir and her power. As a result, Optimus and Megatron are scrambling to get a cure. Ymir is worried, but she can’t help but feel slightly better knowing that Maria can voice her concern and pain compared to when she got sick as a baby.

Megatron is scrambling and demanding Solveig to give him a cure for what Maria has for the year. He hates winter and enjoys spring for many reasons.

The family does play a lot in the snow with proper wear. Optimus and Megatron end up getting really intense with the snowball fights. Maria ends up making snow angels and sculptures with Optimus and Megatron’s help. Ymir just enjoys feeling the snow on her face.

Ymir and Maria have been snowed in a few times. Optimus tries to clear the snow in the face of a storm, but Ymir has to beg him to not push himself and to conserve energy. They would have to spend the day in the house keeping warm. Maria would be cold and bored, but Optimus would actually tell her stories from Earth, specifically Christmas stories, to help lift her spirits. Although Maria question the stories and their authenticity.

Maria: So an old man is able to spy on you during the year, break into the house through the chimney, leave gifts or coal, and steal our food?

Optimus: By the Allspark, Maria, it is fictional.

Maria: You're dodging the question.

Megatron: Answer the question, Prime.

Optimus turns to Ymir who just shrugs in confusion.

There's no real Christmas tradition they build up. They focus on survival. However, that does change when Oshern and Ymir officially get married. Oshern still has his business and he knows that Ymir and Maria do have more room up in the cabin and the whole family feels safer up there, but he's lived in the highlands. He knows the severity of a snow storm. He thinks that during the winter, Ymir and Maria should remain in his house in the village. Optimus and Megatron, after years of dealing with the snow, are actually wiling to let this happen. They've had one too many close calls when it comes to protecting Ymir and Maria during. So Ymir and Maria actually end up living in the village for the winter while Optimus and Megatron make sure the cabin is in good shape, which surprises the villagers. They never thought that that anyone from the top of the mountain would live down here even if it was temporary.

But the whole family gets exposure to how the village operates in the winter. They see how the village puts in effort to care about each other and their well-being. Oshern usually has to keep travels to the other town to a minimum and stacks up on flour to make bread. Oshern and Ymir sleep in the same bed while Maria ends up sleeping on Oshern's couch. His living space is usually meant for one person. Everyone has to work together to gather are much firewood as possible in case someone is running low. There are some gatherings in order to lift everyone's spirits. Optimus and Megatron visit and stay the night to check on the family, but so far, Maria hasn't gotten sick, so it's an improvement.

However, there have been discussions of Solveig's declining health and future plans on what to do when she does pass. Oshern does his best to lift their spirits when it comes to Solveig, but Ymir knows that Solveig's time is coming to an end. It hurts her seeing Solveig so weak and frail, lying in bed as the village helps her with hospice care. Optimus and Megatron see her and she makes a private request that they protect her home as long as possible. Knowing it is her dying wish they agree to it. Solveig tells Ymir that she is so happy for her and the life that she had built for herself and that she wishes good things for her, especially after hearing the news that Ymir had gotten pregnant. Ymir can't stop herself from crying. She knows for a fact that this is goodbye, but Solveig reassures her and tells her to smile. This is normal. Things change.

The spring comes, the village and family make it, but Solveig does not.

[neve-gallus-girl-detective]

i don't think this counts as really spooky or horror (and monster is debatable, depending on your opinion of shapeshifters) but hopefully you enjoy anyway. i was going to write a happy ending but then i decided fuck it, emily angst. also, apologies if this makes absolutely no sense, i've proofread it a million times but it's late and my english language skills deteriorate significantly when i'm tired lmao

emily as a shapeshifter who only believes she's useful when she becomes someone else but she feels like she loses a piece of herself every time. growing up, she would have so much fun shifting. she'd turn into animals or do funny impressions of her teachers behind their backs and she'd always win at hide and seek, but as she got older, it became something she did for other people instead of herself. she would make herself shorter to appeal to boys who didn't want to date girls taller than themselves or she'd become a prettier, cooler better version of herself so that she could make friends every time her mother was assigned to another country and she had to start over at a new school. it became obvious very quickly that people, even her mother, liked her more when she was someone else

the decision to become lauren reynolds is an easy one, since she's the only one on the task force who can literally become somebody else. every day she looks in the mirror, she feels more of herself slipping away, but she knows it's for the greater good. no one else could do the work she's doing. shapeshifting to ian doyle's type and becoming lauren reynolds is important and useful. she wouldn't be useful on the other side of things. she'd be letting her skills go to waste if she wanted to work on the behind the scenes aspects of profiling terrorists

when she gets back from the doyle mission, she tries her best to become emily again, but it's hard. she can't remember what emily is supposed to look like or who she's supposed to be. she feels awkward in her body, and she overcompensates by constantly shifting. she rarely keeps the same hair colour or eye colour or stature or face shape or gender for more than a few days

in the bau, she volunteers herself to be the honey pot every time. after all, it's what she's good for. she's sure it was why they had decided to hire her after all. she can be whoever the unsub wants her to be, whatever hotch thinks would be the most effective in an interrogation room. perversely, she takes refuge in these moments where she allows herself to be bait for unsubs. becoming somebody else is a hell of a lot easier than being herself. she finds it simpler to be what somebody else wants rather than who she really is, if only because she doesn't know who emily prentiss is supposed to be

emily's fine with this until she's not. they have a case where the unsub is killing victims who remind them of themselves, and it forces emily to confront the fact that she has no idea who she is. even to her closest friends, she's nothing more than who they want her to be. she's a combination of physical features and personality traits that she's stolen from other people, and she isn't really sure there's a person underneath it all. the person masquerading as emily prentiss is a broken, empty shell held together by false memories and a patchwork quilt of identities and she's the only one who can see that there's nothing (no one) inside.

-🐙

Okay, but what if she looks like herself when she sleeps well, so JJ starts taking pictures of her occasionally when she's asleep on the plane or in shared hotel rooms. Like maybe Emily doesn't even know. She was never comfortable enough with Doyle to sleep deeply, so it wasn't an issue, but when JJ shows Emily a polaroid one day, Emily is so confused. She hasn't seen her real self in so long and she's so confused about who that person is.

JJ is the only person who knows what Emily really looks like, so they start a little ritual of JJ holding a mirror and helping Emily shift back to herself. It gets easier over time, but Emily still gets frustrated. JJ never pushes, and she is nice to Emily in any shape, but she makes sure to be a really kind to Emily in her original body.

Bonus: Emily's hair changing colors when she gets flustered by JJ 😭

[barbieswithbettyfinn]

If I were to rewrite the musical, here are some of the changes I’d make:

First of all, Martha.

Dear Martha. They tried so hard and they failed so badly.

Martha is an eternal background character. Martha is a subplot. A silent subplot. Most importantly, she and Veronica are NOT friends (so the scene I hate so much doesn’t happen, and it’d save a few plot holes from appearing). She’s the only ghost who’s still alive.

She’ll linger on stage a little longer than the rest so you know to look out for her without calling attention to it.

She’ll always be off on her own, upstage right or upstage left. She’ll keep her schtick from the movie where she’s seen but not heard.

She won’t join in singing—in fact, she’ll barely open her mouth. She won’t be part of a group if they have to cluster together, and she might even move away if they come too close. As for her choreography, she’s always a little out of sync with everyone else, if she chooses to dance at all.

JD actually talks to her here, to get the photos, because they really shouldn’t have messed with that. He’s seen her around and knows he has to sneak up on her if he wants to converse with her. Or he can just approach her without making it obvious.

When she goes to commit suicide (either by jumping off the bridge or walking into traffic), it will be in the background, dimly-lit, barely visible, still upstage, while characters talk idly in the foreground. No spotlight, nothing. Maybe sounds of cars going past if she walks into traffic. If you catch it, good for you. If not, no worries, Duke will tell Veronica it happened. If you notice and choose to ignore it, that’s your choice.

At the end, after JD explodes and Veronica goes back into the school, everyone comes out to meet her, including Martha. As we lead into the final song, Martha is slowly scooting her way from one end of the stage to the other. Veronica, after taking the scrunchie, slowly moves everyone back the way they came, but Martha keeps going. Then Veronica sings “Martha, are you free tonight?” and Martha stops. Veronica goes up to her, asks if she wants to watch movies, and Martha gets her one line: “I’d like that. A lot.” Tears optional. “A lot” also optional.

At the very end, when she’s finally singing along with everyone, she gets a single line to herself, maybe even the very last “Beautiful” to show off her voice. This will be a nod to the original ending of the movie with the prom scene in Heaven where she sings.

This way, you’re not asked to care about Martha. You’re not even expected to care. Her story, the entire reason she’s even in Heathers at all, is a commentary on how kids fall through the cracks, and was so perfectly executed in the movie with how nary a single character gave a rat’s ass about her legit attempt to kill herself simply because she’s not one of the pretty and popular, that messing with that as the musical already did significantly lessens the impact. The reason Kindergarten Boyfriend is so loathed by a majority of the fandom is because it’s asking us to care about a girl we’ve had no time to get invested in, who’s so far removed from the drama it grinds the entire story to a halt. And the one attempt to get her more involved in the plot only serves to make Veronica directly responsible for Martha trying to kill herself (they tried so hard to clean Veronica up from her movie counterpart too) when they really didn’t need to do that. At all.

It’s incredibly ironic the musical’s attempt to make people care about Martha results in the fandom caring even LESS about her. YOU HAD ONE JOB.

Poor Martha, she deserves so much better, and that means not trying to make her out to be more than she is. At the end of the day, trying to fit Martha into a Betty-shaped hole was never going to work. And speaking of...

Second of all, Betty.

Betty is love. Betty is bae. Betty is here.

Betty is Veronica’s bestie since diapers, as she’s meant to be. The two of them aren’t on the bottom rung as Martha is, but for all it matters they may as well be.

Betty is shy and content to stay where she is, but Veronica, of course, wants more, and is willing to take risks to get it. She’s Veronica’s conscience.

Despite her associated color being orange (to complement Veronica’s blue), the only orange Betty wears is her shoes. This is a nod to the movie ending and starting on her shoes during her scenes (when she picks up the photos in the caf, and later when we’re reintroduced to her playing croquet). Her wardrobe otherwise is composed of neutral colors.

Their first interaction is Veronica playing a trick, tapping Betty’s shoulder, and stealing her book (Little Women) when she looks the opposite way. She tells her she’ll have plenty of time to read in bed, but right now they have life to live, and drags her around the stage.

When the Heathers show up and everyone moves out the way, Veronica doesn’t move immediately, too busy staring, and only hauling ass when Betty calls for her. When the Heathers are offstage, Betty encourages Veronica to go. Initially, Veronica refuses, but Betty assures her she’ll be fine, and she’ll always be here. The whole “if you really love someone, set them free” thing. But also “I knew you’d come back to me” from Taylor Swift’s Cardigan (because we know she does!)

As much as I want to give Betty her own song, maybe a ballad, she’s not one for the spotlight. The only times we hear her sing is when she duets with Veronica. These duets are always short and sweet. Something like (and I’m in no way a lyricist lol)

“Always #1” B, spoken: “If you want to go, it’s okay.” B: “They’re three and I’m one / three times more fun / the odds look nice, don’t you agree?” V: “But one and one make two / and it’s always just been / me and you” B: “And it always will be / you and me / I’ll be right here, always...” V: “You’re my always...” They hug. Bell rings. Betty goes offstage. Veronica watches her leave. V, softly: “Thank you...”

Betty is usually onstage with the ensemble characters. Sometimes she attempts to include Martha, but as said before, Martha might just shy away.

During Candy Store, Veronica protests about bullying Martha on principle, but doesn’t dwell on it too much. But the second she catches Betty’s eye (or just sees Betty), she hesitates. This allows the Heathers to pull the same trick Veronica pulled on Betty in the beginning: Chandler gets Veronica’s attention, Duke steals the note from her hand, and Mac slips it onto Martha’s tray.

Betty’s next big moment is after Veronica breaks up with JD. We’re at the house, Veronica is onstage alone, or maybe arguing with the apparitions, and Betty comes over to check on her. They sit together and catch up. Martha’s suicide goes on in the background.

“Always #2” B: “I missed you, you know” V: “There’s not much to miss” B, spoken: “You know something?” V, spoken: “Maybe.” B: “I got my first kiss.” (sees the smile on Veronica’s face) “It was awful.” Veronica laughs. V, spoken: “Archie?” B, spoken: “No, Al.” V, spoken: “Ah.” B, spoken: “I thought it’d be different.” B, “How’s JD?” at the same time V asks “Which one’s he?” re: Al Veronica gets her line about how Betty’s daydreams are better than her (Veronica’s) realities. Then they make plans to play croquet, ending with Betty saying “Ronnie!” after Veronica says she’ll kick her butt lmao. I also really want to insert a Little Women reference in there about Betty being Beth and Veronica being Jo, but I’m not thinking too hard about it right now lol.

Before they can play, Mac and Duke arrive. Veronica tries to get them to leave instead of Betty, but Duke callously tells them about Martha. Veronica lets Betty go. After Betty leaves, Veronica may or may not slap Duke.

Rather than running into Fleming, Veronica runs into a sad Betty leaving the pep rally, who’s very surprised and glad to see she’s actually alive. It’s Betty who tells us about the boiler room. Veronica encourages her to go home. Obviously Betty does not.

Maybe one last little song to hit the rule of three? Right before Veronica reaches out to Martha.

I understand why they cut Betty out (and obviously I don’t like it), but straight-up replacing her with Martha was not the way to patch the hole she left. Betty is by no means replaceable. You could take Martha out and the story wouldn’t change—and that’s also exactly why Martha has to be included at all. But Betty is the first sign Veronica can put her money where her mouth is. Betty did that. She protested bullying Martha, but she did it anyway because, as Chandler pointed out, she had no good reason not to; meanwhile she goes out of her way to be nice to Betty, which includes outright ignoring Chandler.

Other little things off the top of my head:

When Chandler says “Heather, bend over!” both Duke and Mac do it. It’s funny and it fits.

Don’t have Duke in the double-date. Have Mac ask Veronica there purely to even the numbers, not to save herself from date rape, like the movie. So if Duke goes to perpetuate the rumors, she won’t be lying. She could just be choosing to believe it.

Big Bud Dean is not abusive, West End. He’s just unsettling af.

We don’t see Veronica joining the Heathers. We just hear them laugh offstage, but we know Veronica gets in anyway.

We skip a bigger chunk of time between when she joins and when the plot picks up, which we can get just by Veronica’s diary entries (“Week one, having fun; Week two, still cool . . . Week ten, ready for it to end. Any day now.”) to show her increasing disillusionment. We get allusions to what she’s been up to in the meantime: shopping, stealing, maybe sleeping, etc. But she’s been avoiding the party scene. Which makes the party she does attend have more significance.

If we’re keeping Duke as a WOC, make the subtext text. You’re telling me there’s no racism in the 80s? In the murder musical? We could already make a pretty good case for Chandler being racist as it is.

That’s all for now, I guess.

[navree]

Visenya + Maegor are Alicent + Aegon 2.0 ? If Aegon the Uncrowned was older and had better supporters could there be the first Dance much earlier?

I'm never one to smack down headcanons, especially when everything surrounding the Conquerors and the sons of the dragon and those generations are incredibly open to interpretation due to the lack of concrete information we have on interpersonal dynamics, but I don't personally see them as proto Alicent and Aegon. For one, it does depend on which version of Alicent and Aegon someone's thinking of, just because the show versions of their characters are vastly different from their book versions (Alicent in particular is incredibly different even though I love both versions of her, and Aegon in the book is significantly more well adjusted than our wet eyed king as portrayed by TGC). For two, the relationships do seem to be incredibly different. One of the things, to me at least, that shaped Visenya and Maegor's relationship is the isolation. Yes, Viserys doesn't seem to have been very involved in the upbringing of Alicent's children in the book, and we know in the show that he was the deadbeat dad to end all deadbeat dads, but Aegon and Helaena and Aemond and Daeron still had other people in their support systems. In both versions of the story, they had Otto and they had Criston Cole and they also had each other. Maegor is his mother's only child, raised primarily at her side, in a time where she was not involved at court and was keeping to herself on Dragonstone, which passed down to her son keeping to himself as well, and he doesn't seem to have interacted with any kids his age beyond just beating them in swordfights and unseating them in tourneys. He canonically wasn't close with Aenys when they were kids, and he did not grow up with his father, their relationship likely confined to whenever Aegon spent time at Dragonstone, which was rare given how he and Visenya had already pulled away from each other and lived separate lives at that time. Maegor and Visenya appear to have only had each other, which I think can be found in Maegor's later life, particularly in his search for wives and the way the one he was the most attached to, Tyana, is the most like Visenya (not entirely dissimilar to the way that Henry VIII kept looking for wives that closely emulated his mother, Elizabeth of York). So Visenya championing Maegor's cause as a contender for the throne, and Maegor's willingness to go along with it, comes from a much different motivation. It's Visenya looking out for, at this point, the only person that really matters to her, and putting her blood and her only love over everything else. Alicent's motivations, while they do contain a similarity (Alicent in both versions is also clearly motivated by love for her children) with Visenya's, are a lot more varied, based on things like her own issues with Rhaenyra and the law of the land and concerns about the fate of her children during a Rhaenyra monarchy that Visenya wouldn't have had for Maegor if Aegon the Uncrowned had been able to take the throne. There's also the fact that Maegor and Visenya and Alicent and Aegon are all incredibly different people, and as such would obviously have vastly different interpersonal dynamics based on who they are, even if there are some surface levels similarity of "monarch who wasn't thought of as the successor by the previous king takes throne, has mom who's on his side about it".

As for whether a Dance-esque situation could have arisen if Aegon the Uncrowned were older and had better supporters, I don't think that would have happened either. For one thing, Aegon was sixteen/seventeen and legally an adult according to all Westerosi societal customs during this time, so age wouldn't have mattered that much (and Aegon II was also pretty young when he took the throne, 22 in the book and 19 or 20 at maximum in the show) in the grand scheme of things. But there are a lot of much more complex factors at play. One of the reasons why the Dance was so contentious and such a disaster for the realm at large was because of how muddied the waters were. There really wasn't a "wrong" side to support, both because Rhaenyra and Aegon had competing legal claims with their own individual merits and also because birthright monarchy is a scam and the only right side would have been the creation of democracy, but I digress. There were a lot of factors at play making things complicated when everyone started picking sides that just didn't really exist in Maegor and Aegon the Uncrowned's struggles. You can't really call anyone in the Dance a usurper, for instance. But what Maegor did is very clear usurpation. He was pretty far down the line of succession, no matter which way it was cut. If the Targaryens wanted to follow absolute primogeniture, then during Aenys's reign he would have been behind Aegon and Aerea and Rhaella and Viserys and Jaehaerys and Alysanne. If the Targaryens wanted to just go with male dominant primogeniture, then he still would have been behind Aegon and Viserys and Jaehaerys. He was well down the line and there was a plethora of heirs ahead of him with a more direct claim. Unlike Aegon, who is relying on the legal precedent of male inheritance that's been the law in Westeros for quite some time, Maegor didn't have that loophole. He literally just took a crown that he was not entitled to in any legal way, simply because he had the biggest dragon and he wanted it. And that's the key thing here. Because the thing is, none of the rest of it matters. Even if Aegon was older, if that were a factor, or even if he had more loyalists, it wouldn't have mattered. What made the Dance as drawn out as it was compared to other Targaryen dynastic disputes, like Maegor and Aegon the Uncrowned, was that the Targaryens involved were evenly matched when it came to firepower. Each side in the Dance has a wide variety of dragons under their commands of varying power (the Blacks have more, but a lot of them are young, whereas the Greens have less but they're all pretty well disciplined and old and therefore more powerful) that keeps everyone on their toes. There's a reason why the Dance kind of effectively ends after the Blacks lose nearly all of their dragons; with Sunfyre as the oldest and most powerful dragon left in active combat (Rhaena's is way too small and Nettles had already vanished with Sheepstealer) the Black claimant, Rhaenyra, does not have anything to fight him and Aegon with, and as we know, it ends badly for her. And what doomed Aegon the Uncrowned in his fight against Maegor was dragon firepower. Aegon could have had all the allies and ground support he wanted, and maybe it would have made life harder for Maegor, but Quicksilver cannot square up with Balerion. In a straight fight, Quicksilver loses, which is exactly what happens. And even if Aegon had more support, it still would have pretty quickly dissipated after Balerion full on eradicates him and Quicksilver below God's Eye.

The Dance overall was just a very different set of circumstances that can't really be applied to other eras of Targaryen history and other dynamics and other squabbles, that's what makes it so unique and so interesting.

[skyguy675]

Entry 6: 31/10/24 - Smeg it; the Paradigm Daleks

Yeah, fuck it why not. I was gonna do this entry on the costuming (or rather the lack of armouring) when it came to female women jedi in The Clone Wars,* but I’ve lost my motivation for that topic. Perhaps it has something to do with Niamh shooting it down as an actual problem. I dunno, it’s a complicated discussion rife with ignorance on both sides; I know more about Star Wars, she knows more about feminism (one of us is doing significantly better in life than the other - guess which).

So yeah, not feeling the Star Wars equal rights campaign, but what I am feeling is daleks. I don’t even really wanna do an entry today, but it’s been a while since my last one and I gotta keep it up for the sake of my touch-typing practice, and I can, and probably do, talk about daleks in my sleep (I’m not actually ace, as it turns out, I just say that to assuage the embarrassment of driving off all my one night stands with my incessant, nocturnal ranking of dalek variants [the winner is the dalek emperor for those wondering, followed shortly by Rusty, the Girly Dalek - otherwise known as the dalek from Dalek** - Dalek Sec and then Dalek Caan]).

And prompted by a reddit post I saw asking why the paradigm daleks weren’t received too well, I feel like… answering it.

Ah, the paradigm daleks. Moffat’s new paradigm… daleks. Conceptually cool and, in person, intimidating, towering over even the lanky Mr Matt Smith. What happened? They should have been a slam dunk.

Well, it just so happens that their reveal was orchestrated in such a way that it undermined almost literally every effect the alterations were meant to emphasise.

For a start, they were massive. They were dominating. They were scary.

In person.

On camera… not so much. 

For one, we never actually saw them next to anything other than other paradigm daleks, at least until the season finale. The Russel T Davies time war daleks present didn’t get to share so much as some gossip, let alone a shot, before being summarily EXTERMINATED, so there went the possibility of that comparison. And what certainly didn’t lend some much needed fear factor to their unwieldy bulk was the set in which they made their debut in. I mean, what happened, for god’s sake? This was meant to be a dalek ship, straight from the end of series four. What was this bleak, white industrial setting? The fucking dalek rec room? I’m fairly sure to make room for some of the sci-fi shit they had to move out a ping pong table. 

The big boss man straight, white, cis supreme dalek is millimetres away taking out a light fixture (or something, I dunno what it is - it’s a big aluminium box hanging from the ceiling, it’s like a set Red Dwarf would try and flog as a spaceship), making them feel awkward and clumsy and cramped, which is funny because that was exactly the description the operators inside them gave when asked how it was to pilot the buggers. Yeah, turns out all that extra heft made them even more uncomfortable. 

So they were heavier, fatter, hunchbacked, harder to control and this was all in service of an effect that was not only countermanded, but overpowered, by the environment they emerged into. Hey, I know the feeling; the world just ain’t built for tall people - I have to duck in my local pub or otherwise get brained by a beam.

And whilst all these issues were detractors, certainly, nothing quite dammed them like the colours. On reflection, it seems like nothing new - different colours denoting different stations in the echelon - but something about these ones… just stank. The boldness was admirable, but misguided, and nothing highlighted this blunder quite like the procession of their unveiling ceremony. 

One by one, they came sliding out, like some weird car show for peculiarly shaped dodgems. And whilst I stand by the big boss man straight, white, cis dalek looking dope and acting as a serviceable alternative to the three-bulbed supreme dalek of yester-series, the choice to have an ambassador of each colour variant lined up in such a fashion as would be appropriate for the in-box toy line, turned them from a menacing council of evil, the latest in ethnic-clensing technology, into the mighty morphin power daleks. They look like their role on Skaro was to run the dalek branch of cbeebies. 

(LOOK CHILDREN! CAN YOU SEE THE BIRD? YOU CAN?! THEN IT WILL BE EXTERMINATED!!! AND REMEMBER CHILDREN OUR LESSON FOR THE DAY: THE ONLY GOOD TIME LORD IS AN EXTERMINATED ONE.)

It’s a shame the show never got to expand on its intention to have different dedicated roles for each dalek colour, as it wasn’t initially evident that the main dalek foot solider was the red ones and that the red one present in this batch was just the show model, along with the blue strategist, the orange scientist, and the yellow eternal dalek, whatever that means (I’m almost certain even the people that came up with the yellow eternal dalek don’t know what the fuck he does). Maybe if they’d been able to emphasise the differing roles of the daleks, things could have been different. But even so, Moffat didn’t end up doing all that much with the daleks in general, so ultimately it doesn’t matter.

I’m not sure I’d really have gotten into the red drone daleks being the default foot solider. Gone was the rough, rugged, frankenstein-bolted exterior of the time war weathered bronze models, here were the daleks at gay pride. Something about the smoothness and the brightness of colour made them feel too toy-like (though the shiny chrome ones shown off in later episodes look dope as fuck - I totally think they worked better as an officer class).

But yeah, that’s about the long and short of it. It’s a comical blip in Doctor Who history, and a valiant attempt to shake things up, but I think returning to the bronze model was the right call, even if we’re definitely due an update. The tricky thing with dalek designs I feel is that they’re effective in their simplicity, so trying to make too dramatic a change could be playing with fire.

One underrated aspect I find with the daleks, particularly the classic ones, is that they age remarkably well. Even in their first ever episode back in the Hartnell years, for all the flak their basic looks garners, despite all the mocking lampoons about their ability to create stiff peaks with one hand and unclog a sink with the other, they maintain a certain kind of elegance. You look at a silurian back in the day and you laugh at the shoddy costume; a dalek back in the day just looks like a dalek, and in my mind that is the pinnacle of iconic and effective design. Good on you, Terry.

Ruairi

*In brief all the male jedi get outfit changes more reflective of the wartime era in the Clone Wars series - complete with altered battle robes and a present, if somewhat perfunctory, display of armour (usually vambraces) - whereas all the women are rocking the same gettups they were portrayed with in Attack of the Clones. I can only assume this is a case of the designers being too happy with how they looked in their base states and being unwilling to alter them to account for different environments - the sort of mentality that keeps women characters in high-heels at all times. What’s especially curious is that there’s a good mix of conservative outfits and slutty outfits, neither of which are particularly suited for a battlefield. They’re meant to be generals. And don’t get me started on Ahsoka’s first outfit.

**Niamh named her the girly dalek when it absorbed Rose Tyler’s DNA and claimed “this is not life. This is sickness” and Niamh was like “girl same”.