#in terms of just. consistency and use case

[rahabs]

Was there anything you liked about Veilguard?

The hair was an improvement over Inquisition's notorious fifty shades of bald. Emmrich had a lot of potential and was easily the best of what turned out to be bland, underdeveloped batch of companions that the game makes you coddle and affirm at every turn (or, in Taash's case, an insanely childish companion that I felt I had to babysit constantly). Davrin was also fine. The architectural design was beautiful to look at, even if the cities felt empty and stale. Some of the armour was nice, and an improvement on Inquisition. I wasn't a fan of some aspects of the CC (but that's more my general dissatisfaction with BioWare constantly issuing massive overhauls to the designs of elves and qunari, so it's not Veilguard-specific), but it was also a marked improvement over Inquisition. Combat was... fine. It got dull after awhile, but it was just your standard stuff. Nothing offensive. Solas' voice acting was great for the .5 seconds we got to see him. Some of the other characters were voiced well.

As I've said, my main issue just lies in the sterile, corporate writing--not just the companions. My dissatisfaction also extends to the general culling of roleplay options (and some of the reasons why they were cut--namely, because a certain head writer was against players being able to do things he personally didn't approve of, and yes, it's common knowledge as Weekes was vocal on social media about it for years), the rampant lore issues (which BioWare has always struggled with in this franchise; lore consistency is not Dragon Age's strength), the coddling and hand-holding (not just for companions but for all major plot points; it's like the game thinks we're all stupid toddlers who need everything spoon-fed and told to us in the most simplistic terms, leaving no room for nuance or discussion), and just how... demeaning a lot of this game felt, I suppose? Someone pointed this out once and it stuck with me, but this game feels more like it was designed for "lonely people who really like found family fanfiction and project way too hard onto interactive media." Everything's just constant affirmation, constant "how-are-yous" from Rook to the companions; you cannot disagree with a companion or risk hurting their pixel-feelings, even when the companions are objectively acting like arseholes. It kills the roleplay aspect BioWare has always been famous for.

Editing this response I gave to someone else on this post, because I should have expanded originally:

[…] I think part of the reason Veilguard fails is that, unlike DA2, in trying to cater to that “found family” crowd and recreate the feeling people got with DA2 especially, the writers forgot a crucial aspect of what makes found family dynamics work, or what makes them feel worthwhile to the audience: the conflict.  Part of the impact with DA2 is it takes time—literal years—for Hawk to help build that dynamic, and there are serious differences of opinions and many arguments, whether between Hawk and one of the companions, Fenris and Anders, Isabella and Aveline, Fenris and Merrill, Anders and Merrill, Aveline and Merrill, Sebastian and Anders, Hawk and their sibling (whether Bethany or Carver), et al, etc.  Can you imagine if Fenris and Anders had had one minor disagreement and Hawk held their hands and went, “I see you’re feeling a lot of big emotions about this, are you okay, maybe you should try getting along and seeing things from his point of view?” and that was that? Because that’s essentially what Veilguard does, and it’s part of why the game rings so hollow and the found family dynamic seems so contrived: it feels unearned. It is unearned.

In the end Rook feels more like a therapist to a bunch of whingey thirteen-year-olds than a leader of professional adults, and the sterile writing as well as the writers' deeming determination to coddle their audience just makes this M-rated game feel G-rated, and not in a good way. In the risk of going into spoilers, I'm not going to rant about the Executors (though know I hate them so very much) or about the whole thing with Southern Thedas (yes I'm mad, because it's so unbelievably lazy), but so many aspects of Dragon Age's lore was just... watered down to the extreme in this game.

Also, the fact that they turned the Antivan Crows, of all things--you know, the same Antivan crows who purchase and recruit child slaves, who kill them if the deviate, whom we've spent three games going "man, you guys are kind of nasty, aren't you" at, etc--into this soft, fluffy, weird little uwu family unit really stood out to me as a symptom of this game's overall problem, which is, again, the infantile writing and the overall issue of over-sanitisation. Everything has to be uwu family friendly and nice and no one can ever have bad thoughts or do bad things or be mean! Good vibes only! I mean, we spent years being told about Tevinter and its legacy of slavery, particularly in Minrathous, and there's none of that in this game. Just more good vibes because can't risk anyone being upset or encountering challenging narratives!

Also, a petty grievance: BioWare also failed to improve on the issues with the dialogue wheel from Inquisition, meaning you'll choose an option and then Rook says something completely different. Again.

I'm just so thoroughly disappointed in it.

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

! Jumping ahead here, but I hope your stylus gets (or has already been) repaired/replaced. Would love to see more of your art 👀

Oof, Miles and Marigold labouring under the unspoken belief that they don't yet deserve a life of happiness, that it needs to be earned, sums them up well. So Marigold was already on rocky terms with her family prior to meeting and eventually marrying Miles. Her choosing this person she loved was both a profound standing up for herself (and him as well), yet it would lead her to tragedy when Miles gets arrested and her health nosedives. Her family leaving her to die alone, and allowing formely-Petunia to rot in the orphanage system is so cruel.

Very sad for them. I almost wish their fantasy could have succeeded but of course the world isn't a racist and sexist meritocracy, where you beat the system by becoming a model citizen. It's just playing the game set-up by people who hate you, ruining lives in millions of overt and subtle ways.

Haha, I'm glad I could be of some help. 😁 And since you mentioned that Miles may potentially choose Briggs/the military over his daughter and the Ishvalan liberation front, then emphasizing his (perhaps desperate) gratitude towards Olivier and his dreams would slot in well with the fact that she maintains his delusions. Doesn't matter how much of his family is put into the ground (not his Ishvalan side, not his wife, not even his still-living daughter), he's doing 'real good' by working at the Drachman-Amestrian border! Keep the agony at bay by building those deluded walls higher!

Guh, the way you're characterizing and fleshing out McDougal is so good! He absolutely shouldn't be in any position to care for a young person. You're not sanitizing him or making his good intentions wholly translate into consistently kind, calm, and loving actions for The Girl. He's trying to fell a travesty of a regime, having done its bidding and ACTUALLY regretting it, while dodging the bounty on his and his fellow deserters' heads. I fully agree that his PTSD should be more evident than the tidy demeanour of the fan fave military characters. They live such clean lives, they're so blase about serving the institution that they traumatized themselves under (I refuse to give willing conscripts the benefit of the description of victimization). Meanwhile folks like McDougal are out there living underground lives within Amestris or otherwise outside of its borders, and actually attempting to demolish the regime without rewarding themselves for doing what desperately needs to be done.

Super appreciate that The Girl isn't being naive about soldiers and that blue coat, even if it's in part because of her complicated feelings around her father. And ough, the feedback loop between her and McDougal, his guilt and self-disgust, her disdain towards him keeping the damnable military uniform, him being such a wreck that he lashes out at this kid who doesn't deserve it whatsoever, hardening her in ways that don't actually aids or serves her, magnifying their separate pains. “[F]iltering every emotion through anger to hide her vulnerabilities,” goddddddd! Magnificent, it's exactly what would come out of relying on an ex-soldier for your survival amidst these horrendous circumstances.

As for him still holding onto his uniform, besides what you mentioned of the Doylist reasons (which I believe to ultimately be the case as well, given the break-neck pace of that first ep and the one-off nature of McDougal's existence), I often view it as a symbolic gesture on his part, at least when he's attacking Central. Here stands one of your soldiers gone rogue, whose skills that the state used to eliminate Ishvalan lives in service of a grander near-future extermination, now wielded against them. The tattered uniform as a declaration of retaliation and violent rebuke. I could also see it as symbolic of whatever grand idealism that perhaps McDougal once had (similar to idiots like Mustang) having been tarnished by a grim reality, and unlike the aforementioned idiot, instead of being unable to relinquish that idealism McDougal keeps it as a reminder of his hand in Amestris’ atrocities. Of course we could imagine numerous reasons for him wearing the damn thing, but those are the ones that come to my mind.

Omfg, the guilt being a factor in his going off alone...! ;___;

Oooh, Amiran. I rather like the placeholder name. The genderplay could be a fun bonus, but I get wanting to be more certain about which real world cultures you want to take inspo from. Hopefully a name and culture(s) align in time

Naming things can be the worst lol I don't envy being in the position of having to come up with so many too. 😅But I like the loose details of this factions actions and goals. The closer they get to the State itself, even if it’s just keeping their crimes against humanity in circulation, would certainly have them on the government’s radar. But what’s this about a tall butch lady You need to get that stylus up and working again, I’d love to see her made real!

I know that the manga is juggling numerous threads (and a rather bloated cast) but it’s odd that there seems to be nothing there to flesh out the Yao and Chang clans a little tiny bit. I do kind of appreciate that the other clans aren’t mentioned or seen in so far that it would be realistic that not every one of them would just congregate in Amestris, but c’mon now. Not even a flashback sequence or two for the main clans we do get to see?

Describing them as feeling insulated from their clans is spot-on. The narrative doesn’t do enough to underline the urgency Ling and Mei are operating on, in part because their people just feel like concepts. I wouldn’t suggest that Arakawa or Studio Bones should have created an entire side story that might otherwise derail the pacing and story of the main plot, but giving us SOMETHING more would have done a lot to bolster the Xingese characters. With Mei we just get a flashback to how she met Xiao Mei and why the panda is small. Which is. Cute. But like, ok? Where’s her clan tho

(Personally even if I got a smorgasbord of Yao clan backstory and characterization, I would still remain unmoved by the whole “A king is nothing without his yada yada” since, no, monarchies are not based on nor beholden to their vassals and commoners/peasants. So it’s just more nation-leading idealism that I personally don’t stomach. :P Still, more characterization please!)

As good-hearted a lad a Ling is, definitely contrasting the efforts of him and his bodyguards to save his own people against Mei, Daughter, Scar, and the rebels seems like solid narrative mirroring. Placing him as more as an antagonist (not a villain) puts him and his actions under a new light. I know it was delved into a bit with Manfred’s mangahood AU, but perhaps teasing out the more calculating and ruthless aspects of Ling’s personality would facilitate the tension that would feed into his storyline in your own AU. Definitely vibing with Ling’s blindspot towards Mei’s people only having her to rely on for their long term future, therefore allowing Lan Fan and Fu to be cutthroat against Mei.

Daughter learning alkahestry while in Xing with McDougal and tying that into how she meets Mei sounds good as hell imho. The journey to Xing could also be a rich opportunity for Daughter to ruminate on her Ishvalan heritage, perhaps seeing refugees, new settlements, or nomads on the way.

(That couldn’t have possibly been handled well by McDougal in this hypothetical tho. Perhaps any excitement that breaks through the hardened veneer would be awkwardly ignored, mumbled through, or snapped at. Or perhaps he would keep his distance if she got a chance to interact with anyone? Or they didn’t encounter anyone and I’m just rambling.)

LMAO @ Daughter’s constipated brain trying to help a struggling Mei by offering herself as locomotive punching bag. But Mei would definitely struggle to balance her training and frustrations against her crushing burden, so I really like the idea that this moment of vulnerability could serve as the point that these two meet and connect. All the details around that may need hammering out, but it works well as a central point for them!

Mei’s 12 no? Did I hallucinate that? I swear she (or somebody else?) says something like that in Broho at least. Because for awhile after Mei got introduced I assumed she was, like, 8 years old or something LOL And then at some point in the show somebody said she’s a tween. Anyway, 10-13 thereabouts if I fever-dreamt that detail.

THEIR DYNAMIC! Yes, it makes a lot of sense. Like an unspoken but deeply felt and mutual (and mutually known) support, empathy, and camaraderie built on their similarities. They need someone in their corner, closer to their respective age range, who has struggled and feels they must lift themselves and their people from poverty and suffering. “I’ll support you through anything” *Sobs* 🥺😭

Ah yes, the rebel group, Ishval (if/when liberated), all through Mei and Daughter vowing to help each other is a great way to stress the tensions, negotiations, and rejections between Ling and Mei. Nice teasing of the Greed theme there, with Ling’s diplomatic proposal for the Chang clan’s survival to simply become one of His Vassal (things). Without a philosopher’s stone in his hand however, Mei certainly wouldn’t settle so easily.

It shouldn’t fall on Daughter to have to lay out her lifetime of struggles and the racism/fascism she has been subjected to just to satiate Winry’s curiosity, but I can appreciate that Winry would wonder about such things. With a (mixed) Ishvalan teen around, this would more likely open Winry up to inquiring about the Ishvalan perspective on the war with the refugees (as you yourself said lol).

I’m fairly certain Winry was there after she and Al split from Ed. That’s when they all go back to decipher Scar’s brother’s research. So yeah, that allows the story time for Winry to ask some questions or inadvertently get into a conversation with some folks. Or Marcoh himself. I can also see the Mei route too, though I wonder if Winry would interpret that as Mei simply being overprotective of Daughter and Scar? Though maybe that frustration at what feels like an unfair bias towards her parents’ killer could be further motivation for her to seek answers with the refugees and/or Marcoh? Or Marcoh could chime into the convo as it’s happening? A lotta options here

“A theme of anger as a motivating impetus, a clarity instead of blindness, something that protects and defends you from mistreatment, it's something that stands up and says “no. I don't deserve this.”” Perfect theme, 10/10. Very much agree that Winry’s anger and pain shouldn’t be dismissed or discarded, but unlike the canon that shows her pain having to be kept in check by her kindness as a means of rising above those who don’t deserve it (barf) and breaking that stupid fucking “cycle of violence” crap, I feel like her getting more perspective on the horrific reality of Amestris’ actions and why any of this happened to begin with could steer her character towards a less reductive and more interesting route.

See, it’s funny that you bring up being unsure what to do with Al following the AU’s theme of anger. 03 Al is angry. Very angry. It bubbles under the surface and informs his diverging opinions and actions from Ed’s (unlike mangahood Al, who is mostly just Ed’s double or prim defender). He starts to see the necessity of violence, or at least why someone would take a violent path given the losses some people have suffered in part because of his codependence on Ed and how he would feel if he ever lost him (which tbf may not be effectual in a mangahood AU), as well as more directly interacting with Ishbalans and Scar. And all of that sympathy for those who are not seen as wholly human ties into his existential nightmare and inherently dysmorphic life as a soul tethered to an object. He’s dehumanized physically and in mentally/socially. So! All of that is to say, there’s a depth of anger that Al 100000% should have by the very nature of his constant dehumanization that mangahood neatly sweeps away (because Al could neeeeeeever be truly hurt by Ed, because he knows Ed loves him and love never hurts anyone and he forgives him because feeling even some doubt against Ed hurts ED which is BIGMEAN to Ed, Al needs to apologize- where was I?) Tapping into that, plus weaving in Al’s time in the Ishvalan camp could be useful for your story. I know he starts dipping out of consciousness around this point in the canon due to Ed nearly dying, but I think you can jiggle those details around to suit what you’re doing. His interactions with Daughter and Mei should be fruitful territory to make use of him + anger theme.

(03 Al>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>mangahood Al 4ever)

Scar IS anger as impetus! His actions can’t be divorced from his anger and pain, and unlike Arakawa’s perspective that this is wrathful and thus a sin (snooze), his anger being treated as clarity fits both his overall canon characterization pre-Briggs-induced-bootlicking and the focal points of this AU perfectly. He struggles with himself and what awaits him once his duty of killing his and his people's murderers ends one way or another in canon; but given he hasn't lost his ties to Ishval, in the vein of his involvement in a resistance group as well as guiding this young Ishvalan girl, he may be better able to help piece someone together in the throes of her own heartwrenching revelation. Or rather, show her how to channel that into a solidified way, that doesn't just combust against herself and everyone around her. That she doesn't have to be the bearer of those around her who cannot see or honour her and her pain. That she need not be people-less. Being up against her father and his allegiances, and what that did to her, her mom, and her people, must feel like so much cruelty from someone she already felt complicated about when she thought he was still incarcerated or dead. That feeling of having your world rocked to such a destabilizing magnitude would be all too familiar to him. Ugh, Daughterrrrrrr 😭😭😭

Man, my head is swimming with the possibility of Miles sticking with Amestris here instead of eventually tearing himself away (and parts of himself out) for his child! I want to root for the guy to get a clue and make the right choice, but it would certainly feel in-character for him to bury himself deeper into the fabric of a society he can't seem to stop feeling beholden towards. And how would that then impact her and the resistance if he essentially declares himself their enemy? Does Olivier and the Briggs faction still side with a coup led by Mustang and Grumman? Is the coup still going to happen? Does he report this to Olivier, and if so, what does she do with this info? Will Miles essentially end up at war with Daughter? (I'm sure these things and more are all being percolated and marinated on, I just wanna babble about the possibilities because DUDE!)

I have no doubt in my hater's heart that Olivier would see the Ishvalans, these once adept fighters (as per the manga, apparently), having their country and their people fully ransacked by the state's alchemists as evidence that they were indeed too weak and unworthy of their land and lifeways to continue on.

Ooooh, the rebel leader up against Grumman you say? 👀 Fully rooting for her and the resistance to decimate him and his men. Very curious what plots he (and Mustang?) concoct in regards to the Ishvalan Resistance.

Wish I had a suggestion for Mei's epithet after all this time, but I got nothing. 😶

Fair enough re: myself not being in the fandoms/a fan of the source for which your other fics are based on. But the fact that you've plunked away at such details in previous works is admirable and no doubt needed even in those other fandoms. Fans are not great about expanding the scope of their focus on the things they love, let alone tackling politics with any sort of skill or penache. (Looks at official published works like fma that fail in that way too lol)

I really can't wait to see more from this AU, but even just getting to read the details and some of the workshopping around how things will take shape has been a blast. Daughter seems like she'll be a wonderful character, and I'm a fan already.

Hi hi hi! Tis the OC anon, now off-anon! (That was fast ngl but whatever I'm here to have a good time on a quality blog) and yeah!

If you won't mind, here are some more tidbits about the AU:

Miles got arrested via the manga iirc where Ishvalan soldiers got rounded up and executed for “treason” but Miles got off scot-free supposedly because of his diluted lineage (which I have some doubts about, maybe he chose to swear allegiance to Amestris somehow and that's why he was spared, but I could very well be wrong and it really was just a matter of blood), he was held there for a while, during which time his wife collapsed and passed away while his daughter got shipped off to an orphanage bc Marigold's relatives did not want to raise an Ishvalan child.

By the time Miles gets out he's like “Where's my wife? Where's my daughter?” and while he gets a definitive answer regarding his wife (oof, feels guilty for being unable to be there for her), NOBODY KNOWS WHERE HIS DAUGHTER IS.

Our little daughter (nameless though I did give her a name) faces so much mistreatment in the orphanage that she decides to haul ass and try living on the streets instead and runs into Isaac McDougal.

In this AU, there would be a faction of former Amestrian soldiers who went “no fuck this shit I ain't gonna slaughter civilians what the hell” and defected from the military, which of course the government wasn't happy about so they got bounties on their heads.

Isaac is one of them.

Their cause might or might not expand to ally with other ethnic minority movements that the Amestrian majority has caused problems with.

Anyways, she gets picked up by Isaac (she must be, what, 11?) who is decidedly NOT suited for raising a child, much less a traumatized one. Also he was a bluecoat and she's an Ishvalan kid.

Some foils could be drawn between Miles and Isaac, I realize, both with ties to the army, one choosing to stay despite everything and the other leaving because he couldn't bear the injustice, both “father” to the girl, both probably less-than-stellar parents...

She becomes a brash, harsh, no-shits-taken, borderline reckless type of person.

Anyways he might or might not teach her water alchemy. Also via the anime I've seen some folk headcanon that Isaac can use alkahestry so maybe he went to Xing and took the girl with him too and they both know alkahestry?

They're both part of the coalition that wants to get rid of the current system of government.

Isaac abruptly discovers the whole nationwide alchemical circle thing and leaves on his own to go and put that to a stop, gets killed by Bradley a la canon, our girl who was not told what he discovered was like “????? I'm gonna go find out”

Which kicks off the plot, and... originally I just had it stick to canon for the most part (except the ending) just told from a different perspective but methinks I should really lean into the whole AU thing and go off the rails somehow

Anyways for fear of the ask getting too long here are some rapid-fire bullet points:

Mei becomes the Emperor in the AU. Sorry not sorry, I don't care about Ling all that much.

Miles' daughter offers to be a bodyguard for Mei and help her win the throne in exchange for her helping Ishval later. She agrees, and a badass duo is formed.

Our girl felt shame for being disconnected from her culture, she feels like she's not “Ishvalan enough”, even her name is Amestrian, so she discarded her name, just like Scar.

If she could allow herself to be vulnerable enough to say it aloud she'd tell Scar, “I wish you were my father instead” but homegirl is kinda constipated where her insecurities are concerned.

Complicated dynamic with Winry

Does NOT get along with Ed unless he gets his shit together and grows

Running into Miles in the North would be... a catastrophe

She thought her dad was dead all along but he's alive AND IN THE MILITARY?

I need to map out Miles' development if I'm not gonna stick w canon, he can't be Arakawa's mouthpiece who only appears once in a blue moon he gotta be a presence somehow

Marigold... haunts both Miles and their daughter. Miles' guilt, the daughter's anger and hurt and not understanding why her parents won't say anything beyond “be a model citizen and prove them wrong”— and of course, grief at losing Marigold, losing both her parents, even if they weren't perfect by any means.

I don't know if it's feasible for Miles to recognize his daughter whom he has not seen in years but the girl would absolutely recognize Miles. Yeesh.

Anyways Miles will have much to think about. And will eventually get his shit together but not right away. He's quite shaken after seeing his daughter again for the first time, though. Probably happens when the north crew had Scar trapped and Mei + the girl come to his rescue. To add to the absolute fucking MESS.

Scar and the girl would eventually take on new names as part of their healing or whatever, as their old name selves kinda “died” long ago? [Scar] died when his brother died, [the girl] died when she fell through the cracks of the system and never came back up.

Also Kimblee deserves no dignity he should've been killed by Scar.

Mustang does NOT get to use the fucking Philosopher's Stone to heal his eyes, if he even comes to need it— he might not even get yeeted into the Gate in the AU, someone else might have to take up the burden or things never come to that point, the Ishvalans are given back their dead and Marcoh gives either Scar or the girl or both the way to destroy a Stone. So they do. As part of a funerary rite for those who got turned into a Stone. It doesn't erase what was done to their people, but... it's closure, at least.

On the topic of that, the other day I went to check the Ishval tag after sending my previous ask to you, and. Uh. Uhhhhhhhhhh.

There was a post going “wouldn't it be so cool for Mustang to have red Ishvalan eyes since he used a Stone made of Ishvalans to heal his eyes?” and I had such a visceral reaction to it that I immediately exited the tag.

Yeahhhhhhhhhh

Regret™

Oh and there's also a couple underdeveloped Ishvalan OCs I have one of whom wants to be a doctor and may or may not become the girl's love interest? He's a soft boy.

This AU didn't really get all that much developed compared to my other AUs so I'm still up in the air on how the cast would react to my OC(s)— Olivier could be like “whomst the fuck is this upstart tyke and also that's a threat” and that could potentially drive some conflict between her and Miles, Miles is, understandably, distraught over everything, Ed... probably wouldn't like her tbh, no idea on how the Mustang gang or the homunculi would react to her, it's just a whole bag of ?????

Omg @heartisrote you wanna draw my baby? 🥹

Here are some older drawings I did back before I had the means to do digital art (when the earlier versions of the girl had a younger brother, unfortunately he got scrapped, he may get inserted again in another shape, question mark?) and after that, before my stylus fucking broke 🥲 (that's her potential love interest next to her)

Anyways, apologies for rambling so much in your inbox!

Hey Egg! Hope hopping off anon wasn't too intimidating. Maybe the cool Miles/Scar anon will get in contact with you in the near future.

Also, hell yeah, OC AU breakdown! Loved all the details you provided; I'm really digging the outline of the story so far.

Ah, so Miles' arrest is a manga detail that was eschewed for Brotherhood. Sigh, I really do have to read it don't I? But good to know, since it makes sense given the actions of the Amestrian government. They disbarred Amestrian Ishvalans from the service, so I thought it odd that Miles was spared. Initially I thought perhaps Olivier had thrown her pedigree behind keeping him in her squadron (which could still be true) or that his placement at Briggs provided plus his mixed blood gave him some leeway. But now I wonder if Briggs and Olivier only enter his military career and life post-arrest. 🤔

Excuse my ignorance, but is Miles canonically married? Doesn't matter either way, this is a cool AU, but I realize that my recollection of Brotherhood is perhaps spotty in that regard, or maybe the show also elided that info. Anyway, rip Marigold

So the poor daughter was utterly rejected by the Amestrian side of her family and gets sent to an orphanage. Man. It's realistic tho, since many families under a racial-class system deny, hide, or disown members of the "wrong" racial/ethnic makeup. Miles must have been distraught by both losses.

Good for her for running away from her abusers. Love that McDougall and his merry band of insurrectionists take her in! He may not be parent of the year (especially given the parallels between him and Miles in this AU), but it had to have been better than being at the mercy of a racist, indifferent orphanage. His death must have been like losing yet another parent.

With how much has shifted in the AU's plot, divergences are all the more likely to occur/become necessary. Especially once you get into the nitty-gritty of it all.

Lmao oh shit, Ling doesn't get the thrown. Ripppp, all hail Mei! Daughter becoming allies/friends with Mei on the agreement that, should Mei ascend to emperor, she and Xing aid Ishval is smart political maneuvering on Daughter's part. (If there's some other way I should refer to your oc, lemme know). With the alchemy/alkehestry thag Isaac taught her, Mei can further sharpen Daughter's alchemic skills.

And of course the two of them becoming an inseparable duo puts them in-line with meeting Scar. 🎉 Man's gotta properly father two tween girls while hunting down fascist pigs (thankfully they're both capable and willing to throw down). No surprise she's emotionally constipated, but hey, Scar's just as blocked up. But I gotta say: awwwwww 🥺

Oof yeah, her dynamic with Winry would be messy. And Ed, maaaaaan. Maybe in this AU he can actually shape up to be a better person (but unlike what Miles believes, that's not Daughter's nor Scar's responsibility)

Omg, that meeting between Daughter and Miles will be ROUGH. And during that scene in the Briggs mining town?? Nobody is prepared for the earthquake to follow

Yessss, the pair of them having to reconnect with who they will become, who they want to be, questioning who are they without the lives they once lived, with so much pain to come. Having someone else in similar straits would be an interesting dynamic

Amen. Kimblee got off easy in mangahood, when he shoulda had his spine ripped out by Scar (glad he gets murked by Scar in 03). Glad he gets his in this AU

Seems like Mustang's fate has been solidified quite yet, but I can appreciate that the Ishvalan philosopher's stone will not be misappropriated for him and his posse. It returns to its rightful people to receive final rights.

Ok, that post in the Ishval tag that you encountered. What the actual fuck. Wtf wtf wtfffffffffffffff

This fucking fandom, man

Anyway!

Fine tuning the interactions between your OCs and the canon cast will be quite the task, given the length of mangahood's story. There's no way Olivier (probably the entire Briggs unit) won't seriously complicate things with Daughter and Miles, but it's promising that Miles is slated to get his shit together eventually.

And the character designs! I really dig Daughter's design, she looks so good! The way you draw her hair is 🤌 Rip to the scrapped brother, but I can see how his passing as Amestrian would have thrown a wrinkle into her life and her insecurities. The love interest is adorable af. He's the one who's going to become a doctor, yeah?

Time to get some artwork of your oc done. Godspeed, heartisrote!

Thanks so much for sharing your OCs and AU! No apologies necessary for the length of the ask, I enjoyed reading it. 😄 If it gets posted anywhere, lemme know.

[kyliafanfiction]

I sometimes feel like characters who do truly monstrous things while also having been victims of some pretty insane shit themselves are sort of an exercise in empathy. Or at least, should be seen as such.

Like, in real life, if a person who has been horribly broken by their experiences and failed by society than proceeds to rape someone - it's hard to feel the justifiable sympathy/empathy for that person (without excusing their rape, never do that) because well, you can look at this actual human person they hurt, or worse, and it feels gross and disrespectful to the rape victim.

And this is understandable. (And applies to more than just rapists/rape victims of course, that's just the most visceral one and thus picked for that reason)

But a fictional rape victim is... fictional. You can't 'disrespect' their trauma, and while obviously rape/whatever else is real, and people may related to the rape victim and thus see your comments about the rapist also being a victim as somehow being about their experience...

Well, it's not.

Because the rapist here, didn't actually hurt a real person. Fictional characters are objects. They're objects that often grab us by the throat and refuse to leave our fucking heads, yes, but they're objects. They are tools used by writers to tell a story, and readers to tell a story.

And one of the things fictional characters are good for is allowing us to consider experiences we never had, and imagine ourselves in other circumstances and lives. (Also just fun and fascinating and interesting to watch their stories).

It's very easy to feel for the rape victim in fiction, and rightly so. That's Level 1 Empathy there. Granted, some people IRL fail that, but that's not really what we're talking about here.

Advanced Empathy, hard Empathy is feeling for the rapist. Not for the rape, of course, even if they feel guilt about it, but if someone really was failed on multiple levels and was broken and damaged and went through the sort of psychological wringer that would leave most of us here on tumblr catatonic - they do deserve the same Empathy any human (any person) who went through all that.

Even after they also do the bad thing, critically they still deserve Empathy. And that is fucking hard. I very often have a hard time feeling bad for truly awful people who also deserve empathy and sympathy, real and even fictional (despite all this, yeah, I'm not perfect on this) for what they (separately) went through.

It also becomes even harder when what they went through is utterly bound up with what they did. How what they went through and experiences is in part responsible for what they did - because they still made a choice. The circumstances may have left them not in their right mind, may have left them feeling without choice, may have driven them to things they normally might not think of or do, but they still chose to do that bad thing. And that's not okay. They still hurt someone.

And yet - one cannot remove the action from the circumstances. So you can still feel empathy, and elucidate all the factors and circumstances as to what led up to their choices and why, and it doesn't change that they did the horrible thing. The rape, or the murders, or whatever.

But circling back - with a fictional character... they didn't hurt a real person. There's no one who is real that suffered. The things the character did IRL are bad because they hurt real people.

So you're not being disrespectful to the victim by feeling that empathy, or sympathy. By exploring the things that they were a victim for. Even by wanting to focus on those things - fictional characters should be compelling in all their aspects, if they're written well.

And yet, of course, if you do that empathy and do talk about what the bad person went through and all that context, people come at you. They call you evil, just as bad as the (again, fictional) character, or they say that you're treading dangerously close to the arguments people use to defend the real people who do these things in real life. Or you're disrespecting all the victims of these crimes IRL. Especially of course, if the person coming at you has a reason this comes close to home.

But again - fictional.

In an ideal world, we'd all feel sympathy and empathy when it's called for, regardless of what the person did. Even the worst most monstrous people deserve human treatment in prison. And if you don't have empathy, that's hard. Even if you do have empathy, that's hard.

So if you look at a fictional character (who doesn't hurt a real person by virtue of being fictional) that does horrible, vile things, but went through so much, and you still can't empathize or sympathize with them... I mean, it doesn't make you a bad person, not even close, this is still fiction, and there's people I should empathize with in fiction that I don't, but...

It's still a failure of your ability to be empathetic. And we're all humans. We're all failing at that, among other things, all the time. But... it's good to be aware of that. at least?

At the very least, bear that in mind when other people are talking about that context, and that victimization. And please, for the love of god, don't fucking pretend that the victimization didn't happen, that this person who did do terrible things (in fiction) suddenly didn't also (in fiction) experience awful shit, as if doing a bad thing erases all the bad things done to you.

Again - it doesn't necessarily make you a bad person, but like... the horrible state of prisons in our society is a real, actual problem. The way we as a society dehumanize people who do bad things is a real actual problem for a lot of reasons (not least because it creates an incentive for authority that wants to dehumanize a person or a group to expand the definition of 'did bad things' to make their dehumanization now acceptable, among other things).

So yeah. Fictional character who suffers but than also makes others suffer - that's a useful exercise in Empathy. And doing that doesn't make you or anyone else a bad person, or actually defending the sorts of crimes, IRL or Fictional, that this character did. Contextualizing is not whitewashing, empathy is not erasing, and humanizing is not disrespecting the victim(s).

So yeah, they fictional character did bad things. But there's more to them than that. And you can say but and talk about what comes after but without disrespecting the fictional victim. Because the fictional victim... is just as fictional. Just as not real.

Is it possible for this to end up being taken too far? Yes. But that's a reason to be mindful of yourself when it comes to real people, not to never do it. And when it comes to fictional people - again, fictional. Nobody was actually, really hurt.

(I really do want to make clear, before people read the tags, that this applies to all crimes these sorts of characters do, rape was just picked as the one to use as the example.)

[imsobadatnicknames2]

How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked

I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.

Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.

I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:

Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)

In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue

In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.

There is a lot of art on the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.

Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.

The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.

A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.

So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.

I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:

(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)

A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.

It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is as much of a violation of copyright law as straight up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.

Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thing to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.

Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.

I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.

Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.

Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition and standards.

When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.

They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.

(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)

Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.

Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.

Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.

A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.

Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.

Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.

I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.

Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.

So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.

I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.

If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.

[batboyblog]

Senate Elections 2024!

At the Start of the year I made a post about the US Senate elections this year. However a lot has changed since then (not just that) So I thought I'd make a new version.

How successful a President Kamala Harris is able to be will come down to who controls congress. A Republican House or Senate could frustrate many of the important agenda items Harris wants to get done. Also the Senate is key to appointing Judges, right now many America's rights are being decided in the courts where Trump and Republican appointed Judges are consistently ruling against trans rights, voting rights, abortion rights etc. Any hope of a smooth pipe line of Harris judges depends on the Senate. Senate Control hangs by a knife's edge, there are 6 soft blue seats we have to hold onto, two swing seats Dems are defending, and two soft red seats we can pick up, you can make all the difference!

If you don't live in one of the states below but want to help, you can Donate to the DSCC or sign up to phone bank with the Democrats

Arizona

Ruben Gallego (Hold)

Winning Arizona will be key to the outcome of the 2024 Presidential election. Congressman Ruben Gallego was a leader in the effort to replace Democrat turned Independent Senator Sinema with a real Democrat. Gallego was raised by a single mother, went to Harvard, and is a Marine combat vet. First elected to the Arizona State House in 2010 he advocated for immigrant rights. He was elected to Congress in 2014. Since coming to Congress Gallego has been a progressive voice, gaining attention for blunt attacks on the Trump administration. Republicans nominated around former TV host and conspiracy theorist Kari Lake. Lake rose to become a Republican star by supporting conspiracy theories about the 2020 election and Covid. Lake ran for Arizona Governor in 2022 and after losing to Democrat Katie Hobbs she refused to concede and still maintains she won and is the rightful Governor of Arizona. Lake has called Democrats "Demonic", totally opposes abortion in all cases, and is the self proclaimed "Trump candidate". If Gallego is elected not only will he be a reliable Democratic vote and Progressive vote in the Senate, he'd be the first Hispanic to represent Arizona in the Senate, ever. If you live in Arizona please make sure you vote, but more if you have any time between now and November, volunteer to help Gallego! and if you don't live there you can still give.

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Florida

Debbie Mucarsel-Powell (Flip)

Florida's current Republican senator, Rick Scott, has spent his first term in Congress being one of the most extreme Republicans. Scott has pushed to defund education, roll back Social Security and Medicare, attacked trans rights, and wants to ban Abortion in all cases. Rick Scott is the wealthiest member of Congress and also was in involved in the largest case of Medicare fraud in US history. Scott challenged Mitch McConnell for the leadership of the Senate GOP getting support from extremists like Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, and JD Vance, and now is running to replace McConnell. Scott won in 2018 with less than 10,000 votes. The Democrat is former Congresswoman Debbie Mucarsel-Powell. When she was elected to Congress in 2018 she became the first South American born immigrant and first person of Ecuadorian heritage to be elected to Congress. In Congress Mucarsel-Powell was a member of the Progressive caucus, she fought to expand medicare, and secured $200 million for Everglades restoration. After a narrow defeat in 2020 Mucarsel-Powell joined the gun control advocacy group Giffords to fight for gun control a personal issue for her. If you're in Florida please make sure you vote, and volunteer to help remove one of the most extreme Senators. Everyone else give what you can.

VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE

Maryland

Angela Alsobrooks (Hold)

Maryland is normally an easy Democratic win but two-term Republican former Governor Larry Hogan announced he was running, turning what should be an easy race for Democrats into a real fight. Hogan is trying to sell himself as a Trump septic moderate, but he's endorsed by Trump, JD Vance, and Mitch McConnell. Hogan spent his final year as Governor frustrating Democratic efforts to protect abortion, legalize marijuana, and take serious action on climate change. In the Senate he'll be a vote in the pocket of Republican leadership. The Democrat is Angela Alsobrooks, the executive of Prince George's County. As County Executive Alsobrooks got high marks for her response to Covid. She's worked to expand pre-K to all students in the county, as well expanding health care access including mental health access. As a candidate for Senate Alsobrooks has been a strong supporter of Abortion rights, pushing for more action on gun violence, and has been a strong supporter of LGBT rights her whole political life. After Vice-President Harris left the Senate there were no black women represented in the upper house. Together with Delaware's Lisa Blunt Rochester Alsobrooks could make history, if both are elected this year it'll be the first time ever that two black women have served at the same time in the US Senate. If you're in Maryland make sure to get out to vote, to volunteer as much as you're able, and everyone give whatever you can to protect abortion rights and support progressive black women!

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Michigan

Elissa Slotkin (Hold)

Michigan is a critical 2024 swing state. Congresswoman Elissa Slotkin is running to replace retiring Senator Debbie Stabenow. Slotkin worked for the CIA, the State Department, and the Department of Defense rising to be an Assistant Secretary of Defense under President Obama. She is fluent in Arabic and Swahili. First elected to Congress in 2018 Slotkin won and has been re-elected repeatedly to represent a swing district, becoming the first Democrat elected there since 1998. In Congress Slotkin has supported gun control, and ending money in politics. Her national security experience made her an important voice pushing for the first impeachment of Trump in 2019. She gained national attention for holding open town halls on her choice to vote to impeach Trump facing down Republican protesters. In her run for Senate Slotkin has continued to stress her support for gun legislation, ending money in politics and stresses protecting the right to choose. Republicans have consolidated around former Congressman Mike Rogers. Rogers retired to Florida after his time in the House only moving back last year to run for Senate. During his time in Congress Rogers tried twice to ban the abortion pill mifepristone. Rogers is endorsed by Trump and controversial former Detroit Police Chief James Craig. If you're in Michigan vote to protect the right to choose and stop a Trump Republican, and make sure to volunteer as much as you can, and every give what you can to help win this key swing state.

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Montana

Jon Tester (Re-elect)

Normally deep red Montana represents one of the hardest Senate seats for Democrats to hang onto. Jon Tester is the only Democrat to hold statewide office or represent Montana in Congress. Elected narrowly in 2006 Tester has beaten the odds time and time again and is trying again. In his time in the Senate Tester has been a consistent voice for small farmers and local businesses against big corporations and mega companies. Tester has fought against corruption and for openness, and is one of the most effective members of Congress consistently having the most bills past into law of any member of Congress. Republicans have embraced an ultra wealthy former CEO, Tim Sheehy as their nominee to unseat Tester. Sheehy was caught lying about being shot in Afghanistan as a Navy SEAL, when he in fact accidentally shot himself at Glacier National Park in Montana. Past his embarrassing war wound story, Sheehy is an ultra rich CEO who has spent 2 million of his own money on the race so far. Sheehy has been endorsed by Trump, and Marjorie Taylor Greene. Sheehy wants to ban all abortion, repeal Obamacare, and remove any limits on gun ownership, despite having shot himself. If you can only donate to two races, this and Ohio are the most important, if you can only donate to one? flip a coin. Everyone in Montana make sure you get out to vote and just as important volunteer, there will be no Presidential or Governor or any other campaign to help Tester along its all on him, and everyone give what you can.

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Nevada

Jacky Rosen (Re-elect)

Nevada is a critical swing state in the 2024 election. Jacky Rosen first came to Congress flipping a Red House seat in 2016 and then unseating a Republican Senator in 2018. Since coming to Congress Rosen has been a champion for turning Nevada into a clean energy leader. She's also has helped pass gun control legislation and is a fierce advocate the right to choose. Republicans have nominated Army veteran and conservative influencer Sam Brown to run against Rosen. Brown unsuccessfully ran in a Republican primary for the Texas State House in 2014, and for the Republican nomination for US Senate in Nevada in 2022. Now with the endorsement of Donald Trump Brown finally managed to win a primary. Sam Brown is the only Republican candidate Trump mentioned in his 92 minute convention speech at the RNC. Brown wants to roll back Nevada's Green energy progress and boost fossil fuels, he also wants to roll back any and all restrictions on guns. If you're in Nevada make sure to get out and vote, and volunteer to keep this key Senate seat out of the hands of a Trump Republican. Everyone else give what you can.

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Ohio

Sherrod Brown (Re-elect)

Ohio is one of the hardest senate seats for Democrats to defend this year. Senator Sherrod Brown has been the only statewide elected Democrat in Ohio since 2011. First elected to Congress in 1992 and to the Senate in 2006 Brown has defied the odds by being a popular Progressive in an ever more Red state. Brown consistently ranks along side Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren as one of the most left wing Senators. From his first days in Congress Brown refused the Congressional health plan, repeatedly introducing single payer health care bills going back to the 1990s. Brown has been a proud and consistent ally of Unions, particularly the UAW, and tough on banks and big business. Republicans have nominated used car salesman and crypto enthusiast Bernie Moreno. Moreno is a weirdo, he accused LGBT activists of a "radical agenda of indoctrination" and then got caught looking for "men for 1-on-1 sex" on AdultFriendFinder. Moreno supports a federal abortion ban, has been sued by former employees for wage thief and discrimination, and wants to end birth right citizenship. Moreno has been endorsed by Turning Point USA, Donald Trump Jr., Vivek Ramaswamy, Kari Lake, Ted Cruz, JD Vance, and of course Donald Trump. If you're in Ohio make sure you get out to vote, and volunteer to support a great Senator. Everyone outside of Ohio give what you can, if you can only donate to two campaigns this and Montana need it the most, if you can only give to one, flip a coin.

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Pennsylvania

Bob Casey (Re-elect)

Pennsylvania is a key swing state in the 2024 Presidential election. Bob Casey was first elected to the Senate in 2006 defeating right wing extremist Rick Santorum by the largest margin in state history. Starting his career as a moderate to conservative Democrat Casey has become a strong advocate for gun control since 2012 voting for every gun control measure to reach the Senate. Casey also made strong opposition to the Trump administration a cornerstone of time in office. While personally pro-life, Casey has endorsed the right to choose and voted codify abortion rights. Casey has been a leading critic of corporate greed during the inflation and authored a bill to ban shrinkflation. Republicans have nominated multi-millionaire former CEO and Bush administration official David McCormick. McCormick served in the Treasury under George W. Bush, his wife worked at the NSC under Trump. He lived in Westport, Connecticut as the CEO of an investment management firm, till he decided he wanted to be a US Senator in 2022 and he moved to Pennsylvania. He lost the 2022 GOP primary to Dr. Oz and is giving another go in 2024. McCormick is endorsed by George W. Bush, Mitch McConnell, Rick Santorum, Karl Rove, Doug Mastriano, Jim Jordan, and of course Donald Trump. If you're in Pennsylvania make sure you get out to vote, and to volunteer to keep Pennsylvania blue. Everyone else give what you can.

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Texas

Colin Allred (Flip)

Texas Senator Ted Cruz might be the most hated man in politics. Since his election in 2012 Cruz has been on a single minded mission to be totally unlikeable. Shutting down the government under President Obama, endorsing Trump after Trump insulted his wife, supporting Trump's efforts to overturn the 2020 election, fleeing his state to go on vacation in Mexico after an ice storm and power outage (and abandoning his dog), blaming the Uvalde school shooting on video games, yes Ted Cruz really has done it all. Cruz is one of the most right wing members of the Senate and a loud Trump supporter. Last election in 2018 Cruz barely hung onto his seat and Democrats are hoping with 6 more years of radicalism Texans are ready for change. Democrats have nominated Congressman Colin Allred. Allred is a former professional footballer, played Linebacker for the Tennessee Titans. After football Allred went to law school, and got a job with the Obama Administration. In 2018 he won an upset victory unseating an 11 term Republican in a district that had been Republican since 1968. In Congress Allred fought for gun reform, to keep down the price of proscription drugs, and invest in American infrastructure. In his run for Senate he's standing up for the right to choose against one of the most radically anti-abortion Republicans in the country. If you're in Texas make sure you vote and volunteer to give Ted Cruz the boot, and everyone give what you can to get Blue Texas.

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Wisconsin

Tammy Baldwin (Re-elect)

Wisconsin is a critical swing state in the 2024 Presidential election. Senator Tammy Baldwin is a historic trailblazer, when she was first elected to Congress in 1998 she was the first woman to ever represent Wisconsin in Congress, the first open Lesbian elected to Congress, and the first openly gay non-incumbent to be elected to Congress. She co-founded the Congressional LGBTQ+ Equality Caucus. When she was elected to the US Senate in 2012 she was the first and is still the only openly gay person ever elected to the Senate. Past her advocacy for LGBT rights Baldwin has been a progressive her whole time in Congress endorsing single-payer health care, and being a strong voice for abortion rights. Republicans are supporting a California bank owner and weirdo named Eric Hovde. Strange mustache owner Hovde has attacked trans kids, flip flopped on abortion (totally against, now open to some abortion), and insulted farmers as "not hardworking" and thats why the retirement age should be 72. If you're in Wisconsin make sure to vote and volunteer to protect a progressive trailblazer and stop a California weirdo banker. Everyone else give what you can.

VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP

Where ever you live in the US there is a critical race happening, so please check out ways to Volunteer and where ever you live there are options to phone bank text bank write letters or postcards to voters (postcards 2) but like I said wherever you are there are local candidates who need your help, and if you live in any of these critical states please give your time and energy.

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hi Jonny! Re: your latest post, did you mean that guest writers are also involved with the metaplot portions (with Alice and Sam ans Gwen and the others), or just the case file/"statement" parts? Inquiring minds would like to know. Really enjoying Protocol so far!

So, the detailed answer to this is very complicated, as it's all about parallel production pipelines and varies quite a lot between guest writers, as they all had different schedules/availability. We'll probably dive into it more on a Q&A at some point.

Broadly speaking, the shape and story of the overall metaplot is all me and Alex. We'd have loved to get some of the guest writers involved for a bit more of a writers room feel, but time and logistics simply didn't allow for it. Once we'd sculpted the seasons, we sent out the episode briefs to the guest writers, along with a prompt for a possible case. Some of them used the prompts, others created the whole thing themselves. A few did a pass at the dialogue scenes, but most of these ended up being heavily redone by me and Alex when we were going through and weaving the story together and making the characterisation consistent (it was all being written pretty much simultaneously, so when drafting the guest writers really only had the pilot to go on in terms of writing the cast). Then there were a couple rounds of feedback/edits for the cases, and me and Alex adding in bits to tie the case into the metaplot a bit more and make the tone a bit more cohesive.

Like I say, it varied heavily based on the guest writer (and which of myself or Alex had the first edit pass on an episode), but if you're trying to guess how likely any given event/line was to be written by someone specific, the chances are generally something like

Overall story: 50% Jonny, 50% Alex

"Written by Jonny" episode: 80% Jonny, 20% Alex

"Written by Alex"episode: 80% Alex, 20% Jonny

Guest writer episode (case): 80% Guest, 10% Alex, 10% Jonny

Guest writer episode (scenes): 20% Guest, 40% Alex, 40% Jonny

To be clear, these numbers are purely illustrative, but they give you a rough idea of at least how it seemed from my end. April's been doing a fantastic job of organising the production, so apologies to her if I'm talking fully out my ass :p

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Headcanons of Kratos

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about liking the different sex (male), kidnapping, forced affection, and mention of killing (duh).

A/N: yeah, I started writing this, and now it’s posted; I’d love requests from this man! This is written as the current Kratos (2022). Hope you enjoy <3!

@sakuracream, here it is!

He’s insanely protective, and just as possessive in the sense that everybody will know you are taken by his menacingly form standing behind you. He acts like a guard dog, always behind you with his resting face, ensuring that nobody disrespects you. But, he’s also caring in his own way. 

It’s a slow burn with him. Kratos isn’t one for simply falling in love with someone, especially with the amount of guilt, shame, and fear he carries each day of his life. He’s lost so many, and doesn’t want to get attached again. Even if he admits it or not, Kratos suffers from abandonment + trust issues. There’s a lack of consistency in his life from as far back as he can remember. So, when first meeting you, it’s harsh.

The meetings of you two are likely between Atreus. You could be a sorcerer they ran into on a late evening, Atreus quickly becoming on good terms with you; begging for you to help him with certain topics, or teaching him things of magick. 

You could be a blacksmith, Sindri making you two meet as his rather permanent weapon needs help. Or, in an infrequent case, an enemy turned into a good ally. Either way, opening up for him isn’t easy. 

Again, it’s a slow burn. He slowly notices how you make him feel — and it irks him. He doesn’t like feeling fear when he loses sight of you, or when you mumble to yourself, he hates feeling jealousy on not being able to hear what you’re saying. It’s difficult for him to analyze his emotions, and with you being near him most of the time, he’s unsure how to approach you, especially if you’re of the different sex. His heart naturally flutters when you talk, his go-to responses of grunts or silence of listening current. Hands sweat when you nudge his shoulder or accidentally bump into him. To you, he’s a tough nut. But underneath all that, he’s analyzing his emotions better; looking at you with love. 

Little by little, it starts with him writing in his journal about you. Descriptions of your characteristics, your likes & dislikes, how you two interact, how close you are to Atreus, and how your habits work; which he describes are quite adorable. This often leads to him stalking you, looking at you when you aren’t paying attention, and reading/and learning your body language like his backhand. It only adds to his adoration towards you, if by chance, you’re a motherly figure to his son. 

With this and interacting with him for a long period of time on a daily basis, Kratos, at some point, lowers his guard — especially if Atreus openly says he trusts you. 

And just like a snap of fingers, he prioritizes you. Actively looking at you when you aren’t around. Asking the others if he’d seen you; quickly shutting the conversation down if Atreus or Mimir ask what’s with him. Small touches are guaranteed, a hand guiding you on your lower back. Fingers ‘accidentally’ nudging to yours when you’re beside each other. Grabbing you by the waist to help you climb on rocks. Or teaching you factors of hunting that he knows you’ll enjoy doing. 

At this point, he’s already attached, far too North. It’s a perfect family, is it not? You aren’t going anywhere without him. He’s fallen for you, quite hard. The rope has snapped, and you’ll be his. 

This said, kidnapping is ensured. It’ll start slow at first, Kratos keeping you a bit longer at home so you can get used to it. He often invites you for supper and dinner; making stew, or having deer. He engages with small talk, admiring you and his son. Slowly but surely, he adds things inside the cabin that he knows you’ll like — shelves of books and poems, more blankets, clothes of your liking, and many items of those hobbies of yours. Atreus adds in too, gifting and creating you things with your thoughts in vain. 

It is, until, one day, you’re permanently kept into the house. Once you try to leave, your smile goes away as you realize he’s blocking your way to the door — ordering you to sit back down. Depending on your reaction, he’s equally stronger than you are, and already has you sitting down, either with his strength or voice. If he needs to, he will chain you; he’s determined on not losing anybody close to him again. 

The mere idea of losing you sends him into a panicked state, to which, he’s forced the option for you to stay here, forever. 

Life in Midgard with Kratos is rather isolated — even though he doesn’t mean to. He loves you, and often fears the worst scenarios, which means everywhere you go, even to see an old-friend, he’s there with a possessive grip. 

Within the stand of home, Kratos tries to make it cozy, and to your liking; adding things to make sure your ‘stay’ is more comfortable. He adds many blankets to the shared bed as needed to keep you warm, even though he’s a lava himself. Every night, he makes delicious food, and often tells you to retire everything to him as he promises to take care of you. 

Affection is hard for him to express — especially with words, so he’s more passionate within his actions. If you two are out in public, he will be touching you one way or another; he has a fear that you’ll leave him, which makes him quite clingy. A hand on your hip, pinky-interlocking-pinky, or if he’s feeling threatened, he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you into him. If he’s not directly by your side, rest assured that he will be glaring at anyone who approaches you or even looks at you. 

In private, it’s worse. He’s practically glued to your side, and if you’re sitting down, you better believe he’s scooching you closer to his body, and making you sit in/or between his lap. 

Despite his ‘distant’ and gruff answers, he pays attention to the littlest things and wants to make you happy. Despite his possessiveness, If you mention missing your homeland, Kratos will wake you up early the next morning, take you to fatherland and let you visit for a short period of time; a large hand wrapped around yours the whole time. 

Pass-to-conversation that you need more items for your certain hobby? He’s heading down to the trading posts at the butt-of-dawn, actively looking for what you said, and bringing it home with a grunt of, “Here.”

At some point in the future, he’d love to have a bigger family. The thought of having another kid, possibly a daughter, makes his heart flutter and a small smile widen. Though, if you’re of the different sex/or cannot get pregnant, he’s open to adopting or simply just having you and Atreus.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[skyefeys]

A Comprehensive Guide to Writing Gina Dialogue!!!

Do YOU like writing tgaa fics, but find yourself struggling to understand the speech habits of Gina Lestrade? Well, fortunately for you, I love linguistics and accents almost as much as I love Gina - so I've compiled a breakdown of every quirk in her speech!

(Full analysis under the break!)

Most of Gina's speech patterns can be broken down by three fundamental facts:

She speaks with a thick Cockney accent

She's uneducated, which leads to various grammar troubles

She uses a lot of informal cockney terms/slang

Let's get into it section-by-section!

(Note: Formatting looks a lot better on mobile!)

Section 1: Cockney Accent

So I’m an theater kid, and I've done dialect training for Cockney accents before - it's one of my best ones imo - so that certainly helped me write this section! Even without that, though, it's pretty easy to identify how her accent appears in her speech. Let's break it down!

Drop h's

Example: Here becomes 'ere

Drop g’s at the end of words

Example: Going becomes goin'

A few other word ends that get dropped:

Of becomes o'

And becomes an'

Th changes depending on the word - Thank you to annoyingloudmicrowavecultist for properly explaining how this works in the tags!

Voiced th becomes v

Example: With becomes wiv

Unvoiced th becomes f

Example: Nothing becomes nuffin'

For writing purposes, if a word would become unrecognizable with this change, it's left the same (but in actual speech, it would be pronounced differently)

Example: Father remains as father (but would be pronounced like fovva)

Th always remains intact at the start of words

Example: Thing remains as thing (but would be pronounced like fing)

Miscellaneous word changes

Something becomes summat (but other times is just somefin' - she's not consistent with either)

What becomes wot, whatever becomes wotever

Tomorrow becomes tomorra

Because is often shortened to 'cause, which becomes cos

Isn't almost always becomes ain't

Thank you / no thank you becomes ta / no ta

Some words spill together or are slurred

With that becomes wivvat, with it becomes wivvit (This one isn't actually used in-game, so you don't have to use it either, but it reflects how she'd actually be pronouncing it)

Isn't it becomes innit

Doesn't it becomes dunnit

Suppose becomes s'pose

Don't know becomes dunno

Probably becomes prob'ly

You might change - Another loose/inconsistent rule. Can depend on how the sentence would be pronounced out loud, but mostly is just a vibe

You becomes ya

Your/you're becomes yer

Yourself becomes yerself

Section 2: Grammatical Errors

Gina is an uneducated East End orphan, so it should come as no surprise that she makes mistakes here and there. Here are her consistent ones! Some of these are confusing/hard to explain, so I included specific examples.

Will say me instead of my, and meself instead of myself

Example: "I dunno much about guns meself."

Incorrect tense usage of was/were in negatives - Instead of I/it wasn’t, she’ll say I/it weren’t

Example: "I was up in a balloon, weren't I?"

Incorrect tense usage of does/do in negatives - Instead of he doesn’t, she’ll say he don’t

Example: "Somefin' wot 'e don't want people readin'."

Double negatives

Ever becomes never in negative statements

Example: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Never + anything becomes never + nothing

Example: "I never done nuffin' o' the sort!"

Never + anyone becomes never + no one

Example: "All me life, growin' up in the slums, I've never trusted no one."

Haven't you ever becomes ain't you never

Example: "Ain't you lot never gone over an 'ouse lookin' for dough when the owners are out o' town?"

The word that or who in the context of ascribing a feature to a subject is replaced by the word what

Example: "She's always goin' on about all them cases wot Sholmes is lookin' into."

Other example: "I think I wouldn't fancy me chances wiv a lawyer wot lives in a place like this."

Will say them instead of those

"All them skylights open, dead easy."

Will say no more instead of anymore

"Ya dropped it, so it ain't yours no more."

She’ll sometimes mess up bigger, unfamiliar words. This one's entirely in your discretion what words she might mess up. Some canon examples:

“Supperment” instead of supplement

“Mantlescript” instead of manuscript

On a similar note, she'll sometimes confidently get sayings wrong and think she sounds smart

“Toby's...'ow did they put it...? ...Oh, yeah! A 'bone-fide' detective!”

Section 3: Cockney Terms/Slang

In addition to her thick dialect, growing up in the East End means Gina has also adopted a plethora of unique words and phrases. This'll be more like a vocab section!

Cockney rhyming slang - Some words are replaced with phrases that rhyme with them. She uses a few in canon:

Instead of believe, she’ll say Adam an’ Eve

“Would you Adam an' Eve it, eh?! Wot a mug!”

Instead of face, she’ll say chevy chase

“Yeah, I can see it written all over yer chevy chase!”

Interjections/Exclamations

Blimey - Express surprise or shock

"Blimey, yer right! That streak o' light in the photo looks just like an arrow, dunnit?"

Cor - A general interjection, kind of a euphemism for god

"Cor, listen to you! Ya stumble across a bit o' balloon an' suddenly yer the best investigator in the world!"

Oi - I doubt I need to define this one, but it's basically the equivalent of "hey"

"Oi! That's off limits up there!"

Words for people

Cove, bloke - A boy or man. Gina tends to use cove more often than bloke.

"That's where the cove ended up after 'is 'instant kinesis' or wotever they call it."

"When I lifted the last bloke's purse, 'e got wise to me."

Dandy - A conceited, fashionable upperclass man. Can be used as a noun or adjective.

In reference to Ashley Graydon: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Dee - Thank you to uzukirie for figuring this out in the replies of this post - dee is short for detective!

To Sholmes: "I don't need no 'elp from some stuck-up dee!"

About Gregson: "Yeah, the dee let me keep it. After I looked daggers at 'im for long enough."

Swell - A wealthy or elegant person. In canon, Gina uses this exclusively in reference to McGilded.

"It's because o' that, this swell found me. …'E did 'elp me get away, mind."

Miscellaneous vocab

Dodgy - Suspicious

"It was amazin' when you showed that dodgy professor's dodgy experiment was a total fix!"

Rum - Odd or strange

"I mean, wot's the point of spendin' a joey to make a few bob, eh? That's a rum idea, innit?"

Coppers - Cops

"If you do wot the grown-ups tell ya, it'll get yer mates dragged off by the coppers. Or worse."

Scarper - Flee/run away/leave in a hurry. Also comes from rhyming slang - Scarper = Scapa Flow = Go

"If I did that, 'e said 'e'd let me scarper before the coppers showed up."

Have a butcher's - Take a look. Also comes from rhyming slang - "butcher's hook" = look

"Most days I push the cushion up wiv me 'ead an' look out the crack. Then I can 'ave a butcher's at who I'm gonna fiddle."

Rude words/phrases :)

Gordon Bennett - Expresses surprise or contempt - kind of a euphemism for goddammit.

"Gordon Bennett! You lot!"

Flamin', bleedin', - General emphasis. Pretty much just gentler ways of saying fucking.

Note!! You might be tempted to make Gina say "bloody", since that's well-known British slang, but she never says that. She says bleedin' in its place.

"Don't be so flamin' rude, 'Oddo!"

"It's lies every bleedin' place ya look in this world, innit?"

Bleedin’ Nora - A variation of "Bloody Norah", a surprised/irritated interjection.

"Wot the bleedin' Nora, 'Oddo?! Wot 'ave you gone an' done?!"

Bogtrotter - A derogatory term for an Irish person. She uses this to refer to McGilded.

"Look at the mess it's got you into, believin' in that bogtrotter!"

Mug - An idiot.

"You can't do it from inside, you mug."

Blue blazes - An alliterative exaggeration of "blazes". A euphemism for hell.

"Where the blue blazes 'ave you been, eh?"

Cobblers - Rubbish/nonsense. Literally, it means testicles - derived from Cockney rhyming slang, where "cobbler's awls" = balls.

"All this nonsense about the boss plannin' to kill people… It's cobblers!"

And 1.2k words later, that's pretty much it! Now you can write Gina dialogue spot on <3

Feel free to suggest anything I'm missing/got wrong - I come back and edit this for accuracy's sake every time I notice something I left out, or when people in the replies/tags point things out!

[humusboii2thereturnoftheking]

Palestine is Ruining the Left

I've taken this from Reddit because I've found it an interesting read, I did not write this myself, a user named u/ u/TooLittleNuance did. Feel free to reply and engage in converation.

I'm an Israeli-American leftist who has been active in American and Israeli politics for a number of years now. I have always advocated for human rights, equity, and self-determination for Palestinians who are oppressed(to different extents) under Israel, a nation that commits itself to Jewish domination of institutions. I always voted and campaigned for progressive Democrats and I assisted with the Israeli Meretz party from abroad. This is why I think the current Palestinian-sympathetic movement is ruining the left:

Abandonment of Pragmatism - Just like the 2020 George Floyd protests("Defund the Police"), the Western left has completely embraced a suicidal strategy of idealistic radicalism. Many of those on the left insist the solution to the conflict is a one-state solution consisting of Palestine "from the River to the Sea". Unfortunately, they've appropriated the Palestinian mythology in their ambitions to magically destroy Israel and the ideology of Zionism by BDS somehow or supporting Palestinian "armed struggle". It doesn't take a lot of thought to see how both of those methods are incredibly ineffective and immoral to advocate for and implement. So, instead of a pragmatic approach, like empowering the Israeli left through donations and advocacy, supporting a reasonable solution(two-state or one-state under Israel), or calling for the ultimate humanitarian end to the war of a unilateral Hamas surrender, the Western left insists on a dream scenario that will never happen. This is the most egregious behavior of the left and it's their most common mistake(i.e. Vietnam). This is due to the fact that Palestinians, especially in Gaza, are suffering under disproportionate Israeli force with no Western movement to realistically end it. In fact, these Western leftists, due to these tactics, are assisting in empowering and legitimizing the far-right of Israel. They are the perfect strawman to turn people off to the left in Israel, which, in turn, results in a lengthened Palestinian suffering.

Maximalism - There's a tendency on the left to outcompete each other in radicalism. It's not catchy or sexy to say "The war tactics that Israel uses are disproportionate and don't consider enough of the humanitarian cost", it has to be "genocide" or "ethnic cleansing" in order to provoke an emotional reaction from uneducated Westerners. It's not "the security policy of Hafradah has resulted in reduced human rights of Palestinians compared to Israelis", it has to be "Apartheid"(with the only legal precedent being South Africa). These maximalist statements immeasurably hurt the movement for true progress on Palestinian human rights. It results in a boy-who-cried-wolf situation: If Israel decides to transfer the entire Gazan population to the Sinai, what is that called? A "genocide"? Due to the present labeling of the war, nobody will believe it. What if Israel permanently transfers or kills 100,000 Palestinian civilians? 200,000? 1 million? What will that be called? How can it get worse than "genocide"? This Maximalist rhetoric is not only inaccurate, but it's incredibly damaging to describe the proportionate extent of Palestinian suffering, which is vital to any movement that faithfully advocates for an upliftment of Palestinian life and identity.

Normalization of Bigotry - Explicit or latent Jew-Hatred is being increasingly embraced by radical sections of the Western left. Tropes such as "Zionist"(a euphemism for "Jew" for many) control of governments or blood libel. Wishing "Death to Zionists" or equating them with Nazis is, in most cases, latent Jew-Hatred. Regardless of your thoughts on the definition of Zionism(there is no definition, it is a meaningless term), it's clear that many believe that "Zionists" are just uppity Jews. Of course, this is genuinely believed by a small portion of the left. However, a substantial part of Western leftists has repeatedly failed to condemn this Jew-Hatred and to stop mirroring the language of these latent or explicit Jew-Haters. This is 1000x worse in the case of Israelis. For Western leftists, it's normal to call Israelis "colonizers", "demons", "rapists", and "child-murderers" on their social media without repercussion or introspective irony. As somebody belonging to the Israeli nationality, I have been desensitized to the insane amount of bigotry from those that I formerly respected. However, many Israelis or Jews aren't as depersonalized as I am, and they definitely take the bigotry to heart. What do you think results from that? Usually, a vote for Likud(Netanyahu's Party) or a donation to AIPAC. Thus, propagating a cycle of bigotry and continuing the suffering of Palestinians.

Propaganda - This war has sparked the largest disinformation campaigns in human history. Multiple state entities (Israel, U.S., Russia, Iran, Qatar) and numerous private entities are pumping out loads of propaganda in order to manipulate uneducated Westerners into supporting their interests. Since October 7th, known Russian disinformation propagator, Jackson Hinkle, has skyrocketed in followers due to his ability to mislead Western leftists on the war. I have seen an unfathomable amount of reposts from Al Jazeera and MiddleEastEye, known Qatari state propaganda and major propagates of misinformation. I have always appreciated the value of institutional skepticism that embodied many of the historical and academic leftist leaders. However, right now, those values are completely thrown out in favor of Russia or Iran's geopolitical advocacy of "everything the West does is bad". The previous three points of behavior are certainly emboldened by the paid disinformation and bots that propagate anti-Western sentiment to destabilize Western democracy. Meanwhile, the basic interests of Palestinian civilians are left unregarded while these state operatives kill their only lifeline.

Reactionary Resurgence - One of the main factors that attracted me to the left was its rejection of reactionary ideology(the establishment of traditional institutions from the past). For Israelis and Palestinians, reactionary rhetoric is normalized and encouraged in many cases. However, this reactionary ideology that has plagued those who share my nationality has spread to Western leftists in their advocacy for Palestine. Western leftists constantly appropriate the far-right and reactionary talking points that many radicalized Palestinians spout. An example would be the insistence on the exclusive indigeneity of Palestine from the River to the Sea, which abandons the progressive values of anti-nationalism and intersectionality. Another example would be the appropriation of Palestinian Martyrdom, in which many of them embraced the idea that human life can be inherently reduced to a political or national cause by their manner of death. This is a clear rejection of the values of individualism, secularism, and anti-nationalism.

Historical Negligence - Those who are even a little bit informed on the Israel-Palestinian Conflict understand that the conflict is too complex to be treated as a soccer match of Israelis vs. Palestinians. Many Israeli and Palestinian leaders set roadblocks to an equitable peace, while many others progressed the conflict to a more positive state. Even more than the historical complexity of this conflict, evaluating the moral complexity requires a graduate degree in a relevant field with hundreds of hours of research. I typically advise not to trust anybody's commentary of the conflict with any less credibility than the previous sentence. However, the Western left has instead decided to follow the historical and moral analysis of demagogues. There's constantly factually wrong or misleading historical information on many of these Palestinian-sympathetic accounts. An example is the map of a "disappearing Palestine" that millions have reposted, a blatantly misleading map meant to depict "Zionist colonization", meanwhile, neglecting the historical borders of the conflict. There are many other forms of historical negligence that they commonly employ that are extremely damaging for understanding the conflict.

In conclusion, Western leftists are keeping up with the Western traditions of white saviorism and interfering with this particular trendy foreign conflict. I could have written a few more grievances that I have of the Western left(including the embracement of far-right Islamist groups) but I wanted to keep the post relatively short. In several months, Western leftists will forget about the Gazans suffering under the disproportional force of the IDF. Nobody will self-criticize the ideas or tactics that they engaged in, meanwhile, the Israeli left-wing and reliable non-Hamas Palestinian advocacy organizations are left in the dust by an ineffective white-savior-esqe Western movement. Not only that but due to all of these factors making the left look like lunatics, Biden and the Democrats are being affected in the polling, which may result in Trump being elected, a terrible outcome for Palestinians.

[verofleur]

A Swan's Embrace

‎

pairing : five hargreeves x fem!reader

wc : 13.7k+

warnings : takes place a bit after season three (only mentioned like twice), mentions and descriptions of death / violence, uses of the term “yn”, and a few alterations to the original plot of the show

synopsis : they had lost each other once before, only to find themselves face to face again. perhaps it was fate’s way of giving them another chance to be together — or maybe just another form of torture. only time could tell.

a/n ⦂ the ending of this one made it worthy to finish writing. apologies for any mistakes ofc and the few alterations, though i hope you guys enjoy !! requests are still open btw + series coming soon, so pls look forward to that. tons of love — n <𝟹 ‎ ‎ ‎

‎

“I guess you're not that bad to have around..” he said, his eyes fixed straight ahead. She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. His words were genuine.

Have you ever experienced that moment at the end of the day, when you lie in bed beneath a dark, unadorned ceiling? The silence becomes noticeable, pressing in from all sides, as your mind spins in a chaotic whirl of thoughts, lacking any clear direction.

Gradually, the weight of the facade you’ve so carefully constructed begins to lift. This facade was your armor, your second nature, designed to shield you from the world’s relentless demands and its indifferent inhabitants. Alone in the quiet, you let it all fall away, exposing the raw vulnerability beneath.

In that fragile stillness, a single question reverberates endlessly in your mind, like the persistent drip of a leaky faucet : How did it come to this?

‎

‎

She knew precisely how she had ended up here. Slowly beginning to lose all hope of change and the ability to move forward as she once had. It was her choice to tread the path of denial rather than face the harsh truth head-on. Now, that decision tormented her with unyielding self-doubt, growing more insistent with every step she took down that road.

It was simple, really. Tragic, yet undeniably simple.

Amidst the haze of pain and the fortress of walls she had meticulously built, there was a time when Yn radiated genuine happiness. Her laughter was unrestrained, her smiles effortless, and she embraced each day with a heart wide open, finding beauty even in the most fleeting moments. That was before the weight of her choices began to press down on her, before denial became her refuge.

Recruited at just sixteen, Yn was thrust into the clandestine world of the Commission, an organization dedicated to safeguarding the Earth’s timeline. This recruitment was no ordinary decision; it carried a weight so profound that it would forever change the trajectory of her life.

Her role was that of a time correction assassin. As an agent of fate, she was charged with maintaining the delicate balance of history by removing those who threatened its continuity. It sounded insane when put into words, but she never dwelled on it, nor on the life that had soon slipped into a dim memory. The cases eventually consumed her, demanding she forsake her morals and take lives merely because their names appeared on a piece of paper or in a file.

Though the nature of her work was undeniably gruesome, those within the Commission who knew her well would offer remarkably consistent descriptions when asked about her character.

She was like a warm, sunny day after months of cold, freezing nights, effortlessly bringing smiles to those around her. Her positive spirit seemed like an eternal spring, her presence making others feel at ease. Her laughter was infectious, her comfort genuine, and her eyes sparkled with an innocent mischief, a curiosity about the world that remained untouched by the harsh realities she would later encounter.

Even as a child, she had a remarkable ability to find beauty in the mundane. While others were captivated by grand adventures and heroic tales, she delighted in the simplicity of a blooming flower or the rhythmic patter of rain against her window. This innate sense of wonder, though it set her apart, also made her endearing. Friends sought her out for comfort and advice, drawn to her sunnier, more hopeful perspective.

The Commission was the last place anyone would have expected her to end up, especially in the correction division. It wasn’t truly her choice; the job was thrust upon her. Yet, she accepted it with the same quiet grace that had once marked her approach to every simple joy.

Now in her early twenties, she had grown into her role with a remarkable blend of skill and subtlety, surpassing expectations without ever seeking recognition. Her approach was neither overzealous nor indifferent; she performed each task with great efficiency, provided support when needed, and stepped into leadership when called upon. She wouldn’t describe those decisions as mere obedience. She just had a keen sense of doing what felt morally right for her or those around her.

As good as she was, some would argue that one of her weaknesses lay in her tendency to let emotions guide her over logic.

A defining moment of this flaw surfaced during a mission, taking place around the 50s. Her target, despite their grave crimes, displayed a tender affection for a pet cat. The gentle care with which the target nurtured the animal sparked a deep hesitation within her. Faced with the incongruity of violence against such innocence, she found herself unable to reconcile the act of killing with the peaceful presence of the pet, leading her to falter.

That moment of internal conflict led her to establish a stringent personal rule: never to undertake missions involving pets. This rule became a steadfast principle, and fortunately, it remained intact.

Away from the demands of her official duties, she had a knack for building connections amidst the ever-shifting landscape of her workplace. Regardless of the constant influx of new faces and the roster's frequent changes, she managed to forge a tight-knit circle of colleagues. These were the individuals with whom she shared her breaks and quiet moments, creating a semblance of stability and camaraderie in an otherwise transient environment.

Among her closest allies was Dot, a crucial partner in their intricate web of operations. Dot's role was to track and identify threats that could disrupt the world's delicate balance. Their relationship went beyond mere professional interaction; it was a deep partnership built on mutual trust and understanding. Dot supplied Yn with essential intelligence and cutting-edge gadgets for her missions, but their connection was far more than just professional. They shared late-night conversations that explored the deeper meanings of their work, confided in each other amidst a world that demanded unwavering strength, and found solace in the occasional office gossip.

Even despite the demanding nature of her job, Yn was rarely alone. Her presence was a constant in the bustling corridors of the work place, whether she was engaged in solitary training, delving into cases, or simply enjoying a quiet meal while reading. She appeared content, immersed in her routines.

Or so she believed.

The term "once" now carries a heavy, poignant weight. What she had once cherished with all her heart had somehow transformed into a source of profound resentment, forever entwined with the reasons that led her to her fateful state.

“What’s this?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the cup of warm black coffee on his desk. His tone was calm, but his expression was all sharpness.

She glanced at him quickly, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Uh.. I noticed you were working late and skipped lunch. I thought you might need a little pick-me-up for the rest of the night ─ assuming you’re planning to stay longer, of course.” She offered him a small, hopeful smile to accompany her words.

It didn’t take long for Yn to catch wind of the news.

The air crackled with whispers ─ murmurs exchanged over lunch, fragments of conversation during idle moments, and the oddly gleeful chatter of the Handler, who brimmed with enthusiasm about a new recruit whose name she couldn’t quite recall. It all stirred the atmosphere within the place.

She wasn’t one to overlook the subtleties of office gossip. Gradually, she pieced together that the source of all this buzz was a newcomer. The people around her were not particularly skilled at keeping secrets; their careless murmurs and occasional slip-ups unveiled fragments of information about... him.

The rumors painted a captivating picture. He was said to be the sole survivor of a 2019 apocalypse, an event heralded as doomsday. Somehow, he had traveled forward in time, navigating a ravaged world alone for years. Whispers about a companion named Delores circulated, but these tales were quickly debunked ─ the man had arrived alone. Unfortunately, Yn had missed his arrival, having been on an extended mission at the time.

Upon her return, Dot could barely contain her excitement about the new recruit, who was already being hailed as a legend. The stories of his prowess were nothing short of remarkable, especially given his short time with the Commission. His skills had quickly surpassed those of several seasoned assassins, stirring both envy and admiration among his peers. Yn, however, found herself particularly captivated by his story, intrigued by the enigmatic figure who had endured so much.

The prospect of working alongside someone with such exceptional skills filled Yn with genuine excitement, a feeling that grew steadily when she learned that he had been assigned to her division.

On another late evening, Yn found herself enveloped in the soft glow of the office's dim light, listening intently to Dot’s animated recounting of the new recruit’s latest exploits. Dot’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she described the recruit’s recent mission, highlighting his exceptional ability to handle the demanding tasks set by the organization with remarkable skill and ease.

Yn’s thoughts wandered, picturing the trials he must have faced ─ bearing the solitary weight of being the last survivor and the immense strength needed to forge ahead alone. The notion of enduring such hardships, especially at a young age, evoked a profound sense of empathy within her.

But it wasn’t just his story that captivated her; it was the resilience woven into it.

She understood the relentless pressure of being thrust into a world that demanded more than one’s limits. Her own early days of recruitment had been fraught with the weight of preserving the timeline and the emotional toll of her work, as she struggled to adapt to a new reality. She could relate to his struggles, at least in part, and that kinship only deepened her small fascination.

"You don’t really mean that; you’re just stressed out," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly but remaining steady. "... I’ll give you some space for now. Just talk to me when you’re ready." As she walked toward the office door, her footsteps were almost hesitant.

"Yn, wait—" he began with a sigh, but his words were cut off as she gently closed the door behind her.

His name was Five, she discovered.

He was the same age as her, and yet despite working in the same expansive facility, she had not fully encountered him. He had been with the Commission for a month by now, but the large corridors and relentless demands of her duties had kept her from making more than fleeting glimpses of him. She’d seen his office and caught glimpses of him in passing, but her curiosity remained only partially satisfied.

Five. The name itself was enigmatic and intriguing. It seemed almost too simple for someone with a history as extraordinary as his. His reputation for exceptional combat skills, unparalleled intellect in solving cases, and the rare ability to time travel by himself unaided by the Commission only deepened her curiosity about him.

What was he like beyond the cold efficiency of his work? What was his true self like?

Yn knew he was special, gifted with extraordinary abilities ─ a truth she was familiar with. When she first joined the Commission, she had heard tales of children born under extraordinary circumstances, each endowed with powers that defied the ordinary. Back then, those stories felt like a myth. However, discovering that Five was one of these uniquely gifted individuals had rekindled her interest and dispelled her previous skepticism, transforming legend into a living reality.

Her curiosity was only piqued once more when she was summoned to the Handler’s office one evening. Dot, her voice filled with barely contained excitement, had informed Yn earlier in the day that her presence was required in the main office. Although Yn was uncertain about the reason for the summons, she couldn’t help but speculate that it might involve the mysterious, yet well-known Five.

The walk to the Handler’s office was brisk, punctuated by brief exchanges of pleasantries with her colleagues. Yn’s customary bright smile elicited warm responses as she passed by, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors. Dot’s excitement was almost contagious, and Yn found herself feeling a twinge of anticipation as they approached the grand office.

Her relationship with the Handler was complex and multifaceted. Known for her favoritism toward select recruits, the Handler had a particular affinity for Yn. She often summoned her to the office for impromptu discussions, assigned her missions that seemed specially crafted for her skills, and frequently chose her for key roles within the division. Their relationship was characterized by a blend of mentorship and preferential treatment, creating a dynamic that was both supportive and marked by a distinct favoritism.

While they got along well enough, Yn couldn’t help but sense an undercurrent of unease beneath the Handler’s polished exterior. In spite of the pivotal role she played within the organization, she felt a persistent unease about the Handler’s motivations. And although her leadership was undeniably effective, contributing to the division’s smooth operation, Yn harbored suspicions that her decisions were often driven by self-serving motives rather than purely strategic or organizational interests.

Though, she refrained from voicing her concerns, well aware of the severe consequences faced by those who questioned the Handler. The atmosphere surrounding her office seemed to always be thick with an unspoken tension, leaving Yn with an internal shiver whenever she thought too deeply about it.

Arriving at the grand, imposing door of the Handler’s office, Dot knocked three times with practiced precision. Yn straightened her posture, drawing in a steadying breath to calm her nerves.

“Come in,” the Handler’s voice resonated from within, smooth and authoritative.

Yn pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the richly adorned office. Antique furniture and curious artifacts lined the room, each piece meticulously arranged. Behind a large mahogany desk sat the older woman, her sharp eyes gleaming as she regarded the two recruits. A delicate cup of tea rested in her right hand, steam curling up in soft tendrils.

“Yn, Dot..” she greeted, her voice carrying a subtle note of welcome as she set down the porcelain cup. “Please, have a seat.”

Yn and Dot settled into the plush chairs facing the desk. The Handler’s gaze lingered on Yn, a glimmer of something unspoken in her eyes. “Yn,” she began, her tone carrying a subtle hint of eccentricity. “I’ve summoned you here for a special small assignment, one that’s uniquely suited to your skills.”

“As you may have heard...” the Handler began, her tone carrying a hint of intrigue, “we have a new recruit ─ Five Hargreeves. He’s been making quite an impression, and I believe he would benefit from working closely with someone of your… experience. I need you to keep a close eye on him.” Her words were wrapped in an enigmatic quality, her gaze locked intently on Yn.

Yn's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh.. well, then I'd be glad to assist," she replied, a small smile spreading across her face. Her assumption had been correct, though the task of 'keeping an eye on him' did feel somewhat peculiar.

The Handler’s expression softened into a rare smile, and she let out a soft chuckle. “I knew I could count on you. He shall join you on your next mission, which is only a few days away. You’ll receive the details in due time. Consider it an.. opportunity to assess his skills and see how well he integrates into our operations.” She raised her cup to her lips, taking a deliberate sip, her eyes never leaving the young woman infront of her.

Yn nodded, a flicker of excitement in her eyes that she quickly masked with composure. Her hands rested neatly in her lap. “Understood. I’ll ensure a thorough evaluation and report once we return.”

“Good,” the Handler said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “That will be all for now. You both may go.” She made a dismissive gesture with a slight flick of her wrist, her gaze drifting toward one of the grand windows that framed her office. “And Dot, don’t forget that report I asked for… two weeks ago,” she added, a small glimmer of annoyance in her voice.

“Y-Yes, ma’am! I’ll make sure to deliver it tomorrow morning,” Dot said, rising abruptly from the lounge chair, a smile spreading across her face.

With a small, anticipatory smile, Yn and Dot exited the office. As they walked back through the corridors, Dot’s enthusiasm bubbled over. “Looks like you’ll finally get to meet him, bestie! I’m thrilled for you,” she said, her excitement evident as she adjusted her glasses.

Yn chuckled, her mind buzzing with possibilities. Despite her own swirling thoughts, Dot’s excitement was a welcome comfort. “I guess so, Dot,” she replied, sharing in her friend’s infectious energy.

The next few days were a whirlwind of preparation. Yn immersed herself in the mission details, meticulously reviewing every aspect to ensure nothing was overlooked. A blend of anticipation and anxiety simmered within her. This mission was pivotal not just for its success but also for gaining insight into Five, whom she had yet to fully understand.

Finally, when the day had arrived, she found herself back in the Handler’s office, this time with Five beside her. He wore the standard Commission uniform with an effortless grace. His calm demeanor and composed expression were a striking contrast to her own slightly fluttering nerves. He exuded sophistication, his presence a blend of confidence that was both intimidating and captivating.

“Five,” the Handler began, her voice smooth and authoritative, “meet Yn. The woman I mentioned before. She will be your partner for this mission ─ and potentially beyond.” As she spoke, she continued to shuffle through papers on her desk with practiced efficiency.

Five turned to the Handler, his expression a mixture of surprise and resolve. “I don’t need a partner—”

“Ah, well, that’s a shame, isn’t it?” The Handler cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand, before fixing her gaze on both of them. “Yn, Five has demonstrated exceptional skills thus far. I expect you two to work together seamlessly, understand?”

Yn exchanged a glance with Five, her posture straightening as she offered a small, reassuring smile. “Of course. We’ll do our best.”

Five rolled his eyes discreetly, his annoyance barely concealed beneath a facade of composure. The Handler observed their interaction with a tight-lipped smile, her gaze unwavering.

“Good,” she said, her tone leaving no room for error. “Your target is a high-profile individual. Unfortunately, the last two recruits I sent were unsuccessful. Precision and coordination are paramount. You both are the best we have, and I expect nothing less than perfection.”

With a practiced motion, she stood, retrieving a briefcase from beside her desk. Her eyes briefly met theirs, a silent reminder of the gravity of their task.

“Do not disappoint me,” the Handler said with a stern finality, her expression hardening before she quickly replaced it with her usual preppy smile. She handed Five the briefcase with a practiced grace.

Yn nodded, her gaze shifting to Five. He appeared slightly tense, his expression a blend of irritation and resignation, but he offered a curt nod in response. The Handler’s words lingered in the air, a weight of expectation pressing down on them.

As they exited the Handler’s office and began walking down the corridor, Yn turned to Five with a bright, enthusiastic smile. “So, this is exciting, isn’t it? Our first mission together! I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’m Yn, though I’m pretty sure she mentioned that already. Just wanted to make sure you knew...” she added softly, her smile warm and genuine.

Five responded with a small scoff and a slight shake of his head, his eyes scanning the hallway ahead. One hand rested in his pocket, while the other gripped the handle of the briefcase with a tightness that betrayed his irritation.

Unfazed, she pressed on with her attempt at conversation. “I’ve been with The Commission for a while now,” she began, her voice light and conversational. “It’s a bit crazy, isn’t it? All the time travel and missions. I find it intriguing… well, except for all the killing and such. But what can you do, right?” She chuckled softly, her hands clasped behind her back as they walked in step through the corridor.

Turning to him with a curious look, she asked, “So, how are you finding it here so far?”

Five’s gaze remained forward, his demeanor reflecting clear irritation. “…It’s fine,” he mumbled, his tone flat and almost monotone. This was the last thing he needed, he thought.

They soon arrived at the armory, where the clatter of weapons and the hum of machinery filled the air. Yn began selecting her gear, her fingers moving with practiced ease over various items. She glanced at Five, hoping to bridge the gap between them.

“I’ve heard you can time travel without the equipment,” she said, her tone warm with genuine curiosity. “That’s pretty amazing. If you don’t mind me asking, how does it work exactly?” She continued to scan the array of weapons, her eyes lingering on a sleek butterfly knife and a sturdy pistol.

Five’s gaze shifted to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s complicated,” he replied curtly, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

She chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m sure it is. But I’d love to hear more about it sometime. Maybe we can chat after the mis—” She began, picking up her chosen weapons and absently flicking the knife open and closed.

“Can we just focus on the mission?” Five cut in, his voice edged with impatience. He turned to her, a small frown creasing his brow as he met her gaze.

Yn stopped twirling the knife, her smile fading as she shifted her focus. “Right, sorry,” she said softly, her tone apologetic. She carefully stowed the knife and pistol in their respective places on her waistband.

Five shook his head with a dismissive sigh, his attention now fully absorbed in the assortment of weapons and gadgets before them. Yn sighed inwardly but kept her expression upbeat. Determined to break through his stoic exterior, she resolved to be patient and persistent, even if it took time.

“I’d be more than glad to help,” she said, her posture straight and her tone resolute as she made her offer. The conviction in her voice took him by surprise, though he quickly masked his astonishment. “But why?” he asked, his voice tinged with hesitation and doubt. They weren’t even entirely close, and this gesture seemed unexpected.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it? To save your family... leave this place behind,” she replied, her gaze steady and understanding. “If that’s your end goal, then I’d rather support you than stand in your way. I can see how much it means to you... even if you don't wanna admit it.” She concluded with a small, knowing smile, her eyes reflecting genuine empathy as she observed him.

The mission unfolded smoothly, a testament to the skill of its participants. Five outlined the plan with precise clarity, and Yn listened attentively, recognizing the thoughtfulness behind his strategy. She trusted his judgment implicitly, and it was clear she was right to do so.

Their operation proceeded as planned until an unexpected ambush forced them into combat. Yn typically dreaded these moments, but with Five’s expertise, the violence was manageable. The scene, grim and chaotic ─ blood spilled, the harsh clatter of her butterfly knife against flesh, Five’s grunts of exertion ─ was grim by any standard, but they remained focused, undisturbed by the carnage around them.

Even though their interactions were limited, Yn observed him closely. Amid the chaos, she noticed his fighting style ─ a unique rhythm, almost elegant in its precision. Despite the violence, Five fought with a fluid grace, seemingly detached from the brutality. He used his powers sparingly, only twice to bridge gaps between enemies, but his movements were so adept, he hardly appeared to struggle.

For anyone else, his detached demeanor might be unsettling. But for Yn, it sparked a flicker of admiration. His calm mastery, his ability to make violence seem almost like an art form. It seemed almost captivating.

As the last adversary had fallen and the tension began to ebb, she let out a deep breath, her face streaked with a few smudges of blood. She glanced at Five, her voice gentle yet laced with a note of relief. “Well, that went well, didn’t it?” she said softly, hoping for some acknowledgment.

Five, however, remained absorbed in his task, grunting softly as he wrested the briefcase from one of the unconscious assailants. The briefcase’s presence was a slight puzzle to Yn ─ she had no idea how it had ended up in the hands of their opponents, but Five's careful handling suggested he intended to be more vigilant with it in the future.

With a look of expectation, he turned his gaze toward the woman as he prepared the case for their return. Recognizing his unspoken cue, she straightened her disheveled appearance, her smile unwavering despite the blood staining her face. She walked over to him, maintaining her composure.

Five observed her quietly, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. Both of them placed their hands on the briefcase, and with a synchronized effort, they were transported back to the Commission, leaving the battlefield behind.

They reappeared outside the briefcase room, the familiar yet unsettling sensation of the time jump still lingering in Yn's body. She took a few deep breaths, steadying herself. Though she had grown accustomed to these jumps, they still left her feeling disoriented sometimes. Beside her, Five exhaled quietly, seemingly unfazed, as he walked into the briefcase room to return the case. He discreetly glanced around at the other cases, taking note of their placements, before stepping back outside after a minute.

He paused briefly, surprised to see Yn still there, patiently waiting. She was wiping a few bloodstains from her clothes, humming softly to herself with a small, almost contented smile on her face.

Five let out a faint, quiet scoff, masking his curiosity with indifference. Without another word, he turned on his heel, heading toward the Handler's office. "Let's go," he ordered, his tone quiet but firm.

She snapped out of her thoughts, straightening her posture in surprise. She quickly fell into step beside him, her pace matching his as they made their way down the corridor.

The debriefing went swiftly. Both Yn and Five delivered their reports with precision, detailing the mission’s success. The Handler listened intently, her face lighting up with satisfaction at their feedback and accomplishments. She complimented them, her eyes glinting with a curious, almost predatory interest as she observed the two assassins.

When they were finally dismissed for the night, the Handler reminded Yn to submit her evaluation of Five the next morning. His face tightened into a faint scowl at the mention of the report, but he said nothing.

As the office doors closed behind them, the quiet hallway enveloped them, punctuated only by the faint hum of late-night activity within the building.

With a composed demeanor and a gentle smile, Yn turned to him. “At least that smoothly. I think we made a pretty good team." She paused for a moment, her gaze steady and sincere. “By the way, if you ever wanna talk or need anything, just know I’m here. I know adjusting can be tough—”

Without a word, Five continued walking, his back to her, making no move to acknowledge her offer. Her smile slighly faltered as she watched him retreat down the corridor. A sigh escaped her lips, her breath mingling with the cool air of the empty hallway.

“Well, goodnight then!” she called softly, her voice carrying a hint of disappointment. Despite her efforts to bridge the gap between them, it seemed Five preferred to remain distant. Yn stood alone for a moment longer, her eyes fixed on the shadowy figure of Five as he disappeared into the darkness, the corridor growing a bit colder in his absence. Maybe next time, she thought, holding on to a small glimmer of hope.

“I wonder what it’d be like to have your powers,” she mused with a chuckle, putting away a few files on her desk as she prepared to clock out for the night. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast gentle shadows around the room.

Five, leaning against a nearby wall with his hands in his pockets, stared at the ceiling. “They’re not that special,” he mumbled with a scoff.

She finished tidying her desk, casting a small, warm smile in his direction. “Well, I think they’re pretty cool, no matter what you say,” she said softly, her tone genuine.

His gaze shifted briefly toward her, his expression betraying a flicker of curiosity.

True to her word, the Handler had seen to it that, only two weeks after their initial mission, Yn and Five were officially assigned as partners. While they still occasionally undertook solo missions, more often than not, they found themselves side by side. Yn greeted the news with enthusiasm, though she couldn’t say the same for Five.

Life at the Commission soon settled into a monotonous rhythm for both Yn and Five, marked by a relentless cycle of missions and the increasingly predictable pattern of Yn’s attempts to break through Five’s stony exterior. She couldn’t fathom how a partnership could function without some semblance of camaraderie, so she took it upon herself to bridge that gap. Despite her persistent efforts, however, Five remained distant, his silence almost a rebuke to her cheerful attempts at friendship.

Some of her colleagues had cautioned her that trying to befriend him was a futile endeavor, pointing to his unyielding indifference toward her gestures of kindness.

But she dismissed their warnings with a quiet resolve, refusing to let their doubts seep into her spirit. Dot, ever supportive, continued to bolster her efforts, offering words of encouragement whenever uncertainty threatened to take root. Yn told herself that if Five truly wished for her to stop, he would voice it plainly. Yet, his responses ─ or the conspicuous absence of them ─ were limited to walking away or retreating into silence. To her, this was far from a defeat; in fact, she secretly considered his lack of outright rejection as a small, unspoken triumph.

And so it remained that way ─ until, inevitably, it didn’t.

The date marked nearly three months since Yn and Five had been paired as partners, a time filled with missions and tension. They had just returned from what could only be described as a near-disastrous mission. It had all been going smoothly until they separated to fulfill their respective roles. Yn's task was straightforward yet fraught with risk ─ she was to assassinate the final target. Five, on the other hand, was assigned to infiltrate the estate, gathering critical intel that would ensure the mission’s success.

As Yn prepared for the shot, a rare sense of anxiety settled over her. Despite her experience, this mission carried an unusual weight. One shot was all it would take, and failure was not an option. But as the moment of action approached, she faltered.

The target’s wife entered the scene, and through the scope, Yn saw something that gave her pause ─ the woman’s smile as she greeted her husband, the way they embraced, the contented sigh she let out. It was a simple, human moment, but it hit Yn like a punch to the gut.

Her hands trembled as she aimed the gun, her resolve crumbling. She couldn’t do it. Her body, usually so attuned to the demands of her job, refused to cooperate. The hesitation was costly. Security forces within the estate spotted her, forcing her to engage in a violent struggle that quickly drew the attention of her intended target. He barely made it out of the grand house before a bullet found him. His body crumpled to the ground, and as it did, Yn saw Five standing there, a small frown of anger creasing his face.

Without a word, Five appeared at her side, seamlessly joining the fray to eliminate the remaining security personnel with her. His movements were efficient, precise, a stark contrast to her earlier faltering. And as soon as the last threat was neutralized, Five grabbed her arm and, without a moment’s hesitation, used the case to return them to the Commission. The mission had been salvaged, but the tension between them hung in the air, heavy and unspoken.

That night had sparked an argument between them, though in hindsight, it was more a clash of frayed nerves than true animosity. The day had burdened them both with relentless stress, and the looming threat of failure had mingled with an unspoken fear of potentially losing each other… as partners of course. It was a volatile blend that inevitably boiled over.

Yet, as she reflected now, it was clear that without that night’s tension, the subtle shifts that followed might never have occurred. It was as if that moment of friction had unlocked something in their bond, something that would gradually reshape their future.

And it did. After that day, Yn had began to distance herself from Five, pulling back from her usual attempts to engage him following the words they had exchanged.

At first, he welcomed the newfound quiet, relishing the space she had granted him. But as the days turned into weeks, the hints of emptiness began to settle in ─ his routines, once merely solitary, now felt hollow in the absence of her persistent presence. It frustrated him that it had taken nearly half a year since his arrival to realize that, all along, she had been nothing but kind to him, even bringing him coffee out of simple, unreciprocated kindness.

Eventually, he couldn’t ignore the small void she had unintentionally left behind. So, he began to yield ─ little by little, he started responding more to her words, offering brief answers to a few of her questions. Though he tried to mask his intentions, to pretend that nothing had changed, Yn was perceptive. She noticed the subtle shift, and it warmed her heart to see him make the effort. Maybe, she thought, her persistence had finally paid off after all.

Five turned to look at her, a small, closed smile appearing on his face. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

Yn returned his smile with a warm one of her own. “If it means I get to see that smile of yours more often, then yeah, I’m not giving up.”

What began as a newly formed partnership and budding friendship gradually deepened into something far more profound ─ a bond marked by affection and love.

Nearly four years had passed since Five's arrival, with both now in their late twenties. How their relationship evolved to this point was almost a mystery, so natural and unexpected it was. There was no rushing, no planning of special days; everything unfolded organically, without them even realizing it until confessions were made during late-night talks in their offices ─ a ritual that had become part of their routine.

The Commission soon picked up on the shift. They noticed Yn’s brighter smile and Five’s subtle change in demeanor around her friends and colleagues. What caught their attention most was the increasing number of times they were seen together outside of work. The news only spread when Dot, eager to share the update about her best friend’s new relationship with the elusive assassin, let slip to some of her acquaintances. As the story circulated, more and more people became aware of their union.

It took considerable effort from Yn and a touch of intimidation from Five to stem the tide of gossip. They had to persuade their colleagues firmly and, in Five’s case, unwillingly make a few veiled threats to ensure that the news didn’t reach the Handler or become a matter of office chatter.

Those three famous words replayed in Yn’s mind often after they had been spoken. Five had been the one to say them first, catching her completely off guard.

She had been in the middle of a rant, her words tumbling out carelessly, when he suddenly interrupted her with that simple, yet earth-shattering declaration. She’d frozen up, stunned into silence, as she watched the panic flicker in his eyes, his awkward attempt to move on from the moment. But before either of them could overthink it, they shared a kiss ─ a kiss more meaningful than any other. She always reminisced about that day.

Being with him had brought her true happiness, but what she treasured most was the chance to truly understand him. To be one of the rare few who were close to the legendary Five Hargreeves.

It wasn’t the title that made her happy of course, but what it represented ─ his trust in her.

Five had eventually opened up to Yn about his past: the life he led before the apocalypse, the siblings he once fought beside, and the grueling years spent at the academy under the iron fist of his oppressive father. He shared the grim details of the apocalypse, the years he had endured in a world that was crumbling around him.

She even learned about his companion, Delores, who, to her surprise, truly existed ─ though not in the way she had once imagined.

Every revelation had brought them closer, slowly peeling back layers of Five’s stoic exterior. She listened as he recounted the challenges of growing up under such intense pressure, how the academy had shaped him, and how the isolation during the apocalypse had nearly driven him mad. Delores, a mannequin he had once loved, became a symbol of his desperate attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy in a desolate world.

Her heart ached for him as she realized just how much he had been through. She admired his resilience but also recognized the deep scars that his experiences had left behind. Despite all of it, she was still there, offering him the understanding and support he had long been deprived of.

One confession of hers always lingered in Five’s mind ─ the time she had offered to help him save his family, even before they had become a couple. It filled him with a sense of worth beyond his powers, knowing that someone as kind and admirable as Yn was by his side. Her willingness to stand by him, even when the odds seemed impossible, meant more to him than she could ever know.

In time, he shared his plan with her, every detail laid bare. And without a moment’s hesitation, she joined him, willing to leave the Commission behind and start a new life together. Though she seldom spoke of her life before the Commission, she knew that leaving it with him would be worth it ─ a step toward a new beginning.

All of it ultimately had led Yn toward her cherished goal of becoming a mother one day, to start a family with the man she knew she loved with all her heart. Little did she know how close this dream was to becoming reality, and the price she would have to pay for it.

She stared at the test in her shaky hands, her breath catching in her throat as the result slowly registered in her mind. It was positive.

The tiny plus sign on the strip seemed to burn into her vision, making her head spin. She had imagined this moment a few times before, but now that it was real, a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over her ─ shock, fear, and a flicker of something else she couldn’t quite place.

What would Five say? Would he be happy? Or would this news only add to the stress that already weighed heavily on him, especially with the endless equations he wrestled with, trying to find a way back home? Her thoughts had swirled in a chaotic spiral as she considered her options, eventually deciding on waiting it out. She’d tell him when the time was right ─ when he was a bit more at ease.

Two weeks had passed since that moment. Now, a few weeks into her first trimester, she still hadn’t told anyone, not even Dot. The secret weighed on her, but she carried it alone, choosing her words and actions carefully. She noticed that Five had started to pick up on her moments of distraction during their work, his concerned glances lingering on her as she zoned out during meetings or while analyzing cases.

It worried him, but he chalked it up to stress, something he was all too familiar with. As much as he tried to focus on the tasks at hand, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Yn. Yet, he held back from asking, not wanting to add to whatever burden she was carrying.

Yn, on the other hand, had still found herself caught between wanting to share her news with Five and the fear of how it might affect him. The thought of their future together brought both joy and anxiety, and she knew that the conversation would change everything. But until she felt the time was right, she kept her secret close, hoping for the right moment to finally reveal the truth.

That fateful evening, a mission had been thrust upon them both, one that stood out as particularly treacherous. Their target: a high-ranking official in 1930s London. The mission, fraught with peril and intricacy, was conveyed to them by the Handler with an urgency that unsettled Yn. The usual meticulous preparation was replaced with a frantic rush, additional colleagues and assassins hastily brought in to assist. The pressure of it all weighed heavily on her, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

But in the midst of the chaos, Five stood by her side, his presence a steady anchor in the storm. The warmth of his hand as it grasped hers provided a fleeting sense of comfort, a reassurance that steadied her frayed nerves. Their eyes met as they were handed the briefcase, the unspoken understanding between them clear.

“See you on the other side, love,” he whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

A smile touched her lips, a brief moment of solace amidst the turmoil. She gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, her fingers lingering as she cupped his cheek. “As always, amor,” she murmured, her voice filled with a quiet resolve.

He returned her smile, a small, closed expression that conveyed more than words ever could. And then, with a final kiss, they vanished into the unknown, the briefcase unlocking their passage into the heart of the mission.

They lay on the rooftop, the world below a distant hum as they rested after another mission. The night sky above them was a canvas of stars, more vivid and clear than ever.

Her eyes traced the constellations, her voice carrying a note of hope. “Do you think it’ll work? Us leaving this place for good?” she asked softly.

Five turned his head to look at her, taking in the sight of her bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. For a moment, he found her breathtaking. “I’m not sure yet,” he admitted, his voice thoughtful. “I still need time to figure it out. But we will… as long as you stick with me and I do the same...”

She lost him that night.

The mission, designed with precision, had unravelled into a grim spectacle of chaos and tragedy. They had been separated away from the others, and the ambush that followed was relentless. As Yn fought her way through the fray, she felt the crushing weight of each strike and the ever-increasing number of enemies. The alleyway, dimly lit and narrow, became a crucible of their suffering.

Amidst the cacophony of gunfire and rain, Five was shot while shielding her from harm. The bullet’s impact seemed to shatter the fragile barrier between life and death. Yn’s mind was a maelstrom of fear and helplessness as she saw him stagger, blood staining his hands, his face etched with a painful resolve. His final moments were spent reassuring her with a promise to reunite, a promise that would never be fulfilled.

The rain continued to fall, indifferent to their plight, as she clutched him in her arms, her cries piercing the night. The agony of his loss was magnified by the brutality of her actions. Consumed by a blind rage, she had unleashed a vengeful fury upon the assailants who had stirred from unconsciousness. Her anger morphed her into a merciless avenger, the scene growing increasingly gruesome with each act of retribution.

The sight of a wedding ring on one of her fallen foes only fueled her anger, intensifying her wrath against a world that had stolen her love away from her.

The blood that soaked her clothes and hands served as a haunting reminder of the night’s horrors. When Dot and the other recruits had finally arrived, alerted by the delay of the two assassins, they found Yn amidst the aftermath, a lone figure in a sea of carnage. The scene was eerily quiet, save for the sound of rain pattering against the cobblestones, mingling with the crimson stains that painted the ground. Dot could only do nothing but cradle her shattered friend, her own heart breaking as Yn wept for her fallen partner.

“H-He's gone. He's really gone, Dot,” Yn had whispered, her voice barely audible through her sobs as she wept in her friend’s arms. The embrace, warm and familiar, somehow failed to bring the comfort she so desperately yearned for. His comfort.

Dot’s heart shattered at her friend’s words, a deep ache spreading through her chest. “I-I know. I know, love. I'm so sorry,” she whispered back, her voice trembling as she fought to keep herself composed.

“I never even told h-him…” Yn’s voice broke, the weight of her unspoken truth adding to her sorrow.

Dot’s confusion at the statement was fleeting, replaced by an overwhelming wave of empathy. She looked up at the others, tears forming in her own eyes as she held Yn closer. Herb and the rest of the team could only watch the scene with heavy hearts, their own grief mingling with sympathy.

They had lost one of their own that night, and the weight of that loss hung heavily in the air.

Have you ever heard the tale of two swans? One was as bright as freshly fallen snow, while the other was as dark as a moonless night. They lived on a tranquil lake, where the sun’s light danced across the water’s surface. The white swan was a beacon of sunlight, her graceful movements infusing life and light into the world around her. In contrast, the black swan bore the weight of shadows, his eyes mirroring the deep, somber sorrow of twilight, as if carrying the burdens of a cold and indifferent world.

Swans, it is said, find their mates for life. And though these two were as different as day and night, they were drawn together by a force that neither could resist. The white swan’s brightness softened the black swan’s gloom, while his depth gave her a new understanding of the world. They became the perfect counterpart to one another, a delicate balance of light and dark.

But as with all tales of love and loss, their time together was fleeting. The black swan, burdened by his own melancholy, grew weaker and eventually slipped into the stillness of death, leaving the white swan to mourn alone. There is a saying that swans give up when they lose their mate, but the white swan refused to surrender to despair. In her dreams, she saw him waiting on the edge of the lake, a shadow calling her back.

And so, she swam on, believing that their love was not bound by the limits of this world, but destined to reunite by fate, no matter how long it took.

The weeks following that night felt irrevocably altered, as though something fundamental had been lost. While only her closest friends sensed the void, it was undeniable: Yn had lost more than just a partner. She had lost a part of herself. Her light, her guiding moon. Everything that had once illuminated her world ─ was gone.

Discussions of Five’s passing were always weighed down with solemnity, spoken in hushed tones and soft whispers to avoid further distressing the grief-stricken Yn. The Handler had refrained from calling her in, adding to the sense of quiet that enveloped her. During this period, she had withdrawn from missions, spending her days confined to her quarters, while Dot provided steadfast support, her daily check-ins offering a small measure of comfort amid Yn’s profound sorrow. She resolved to properly express her gratitude to Dot someday.

As more weeks of solitude had passed, Yn’s growing stomach became increasingly noticeable, making it clear that she could no longer keep her condition a secret. Not that she had ever really planned to.

Surprisingly yet, she began to ease back into work, solving only a few cases here and there. Yet, the thought of returning to full-scale missions had seemed distant and unattainable. She couldn’t envision herself diving back into that world anytime soon.

When she officially had returned, her colleagues quickly noticed the changes in her. She was quieter, more reserved, and the brightness that once lit up her smile had dimmed. Her eyes, once filled with a lively spark, now held a subdued melancholy. Though her caring nature remained intact, it was tinged with a softness that hadn’t been there in a while.

The news of her pregnancy, discreetly shared by Dot with Yn’s permission, only deepened their understanding of her transformation. They often saw her gently cradling her growing stomach as she spoke with others, a tender gesture that contrasted with the weight of her loss. Despite everything, Yn still had extended a helping hand whenever her colleagues needed support, her compassion unwavering, though now shaded with the quiet strength of someone who had endured profound sorrow.

They had arranged a small welcome-back week for Yn, nothing extravagant, just a gesture to show their support and care. Dot and Herb had spearheaded the idea, wanting to comfort her during this difficult time. Though Dot nervously denied any relationship with Herb, Yn wasn’t fooled. She saw the affection in their interactions, recognizing the love between them, even if they hadn’t realized it yet. It was reminiscent of how she and Five had been before they got together. A part of her envied them, but she chose not to dwell on it, unwilling to descend into that sorrowful comparison.

That week passed quickly, but the one that followed brought an unwelcome tension. With Five gone, it was inevitable that someone would try to take his place as the best in their division. Unfortunately, it had to be a guy whose name Yn barely bothered to remember. She recognized him, though ─ the one who always glared at Five during meetings, muttering under his breath and plotting to outshine him. His envy had been palpable, and now, with Five gone, he seemed almost gleeful.

She was on her way to Dot's office when their paths crossed. He spotted her first, his smirk widening as he stopped, blocking her way. “Well, if it isn't Mrs. Sunshine herself. Oh wait, you're not a Mrs anymore, huh?” His voice dripped with mockery, each word carefully chosen to sting.

Yn paused, her gaze narrowing as she turned to face him fully. “What did you say?” Her voice was low, a warning.

“You heard me,” he sneered, taking a step closer, his voice dripping with malice. “What? What's with the glare? Your man isn’t here to cuddle you when you’re sad anymore? Aw, how tragic.” His tone was sharp, mocking. As his words hung in the air, a small crowd began to form at a respectful distance, sensing the tension.

Yn’s heart pounded in her chest, her grief and anger simmering just beneath the surface. He wasn’t done yet, though. His eyes flicked down to her growing stomach, and the smirk on his face turned vicious. “I'm sure it'll be sad for that child of yours too, no? Having to grow up fatherless—”

He didn’t get to finish. The sound of her fist connecting with his jaw echoed through the hall, followed by a sharp intake of breath from the onlookers. He staggered back, clutching his face, shock and pain flickering in his eyes as blood began to trickle from his nose. The once-smug expression was replaced with disbelief as he struggled to regain his footing, staring at Yn in stunned silence.

She stepped forward, her voice cold and unwavering. “You don't get to speak about him or our child. Ever.” She glanced down at him, now slumped against the wall, her eyes narrowing slightly before she straightened her posture, smoothing her jacket's sleeves with a practiced grace. A small, almost satisfied smile curved her lips. “I'm sure our boss can deal with you from here.”

Without another word, Yn turned and walked away, leaving him and the stunned crowd in her wake. She didn’t look back, her steps confident and unhurried as she continued toward Dot's office, her mind already moving beyond the encounter, focusing instead on what truly mattered. Though, a closed smile appeared on her face. How cool was that, she thought.

The months that followed passed in a blur, filled with their own set of challenges and small joys. Yn navigated the pain of her growing baby, the sharp, unexpected kicks a constant reminder of the new life within her. Sleepless nights often plagued her, her dreams haunted by memories and nightmares of Five. Yet through it all, he remained ever-present in her thoughts, a constant companion in her heart.

The day she gave birth was a mixture of profound pain and overwhelming joy. With Dot by her side, offering support and comfort, Yn held her baby girl for the first time. The sight of the tiny, delicate face with her father's eyes brought tears to her eyes. Cradling her daughter in her arms, she was flooded with a wave of emotion that made the pain of childbirth fade into the background. The spark that had seemed lost during those dark months flickered back to life.

And that spark only grew stronger as the years passed. It now marked four years since the birth of her daughter and nearly five since Yn had lost her beloved counterpart. She had named her daughter Odette, inspired by her favorite tale of the two swans ─ a story she felt a profound connection to. Odette, in turn, grew to love the tale as well, often requesting her mother to read it to her.

She carried her father's last name, a small but significant gesture by Yn to keep his presence alive. She was more than just a reminder of Five; she was a living embodiment of him. From her eyes to her smile, she mirrored him unmistakably.

Yet her spirited defiance and curiosity, traits so vividly reminiscent of Yn herself, shaped her unique character. Together, these traits made Odette a perfect blend of both her parents. A tangible piece of Five that would always remain with them.

Odette breathed new life into Yn, rekindling the smile and joy she had lost. As her daughter grew older, she proudly introduced her to some of her colleagues. The young girl quickly took a special liking to Dot, who she affectionately regarded as an aunt.

Those around her couldn’t help but notice the remarkable transformation that occurred whenever she brought her daughter along. The once-muted spark in her eyes seemed to reignite, and the spirit and vitality that had once defined her returned in full force. With Odette by her side, Yn radiated a renewed energy, a testament to the profound impact her daughter had on her life.

Her friends and colleagues took pride in this progress, none more so than Dot and her newly announced husband, Herb. Yn had always suspected that Dot and Herb were destined for each other, and seeing their happiness only served to amplify her own.

Dot, however, knew her friend too well to be fooled by her composed exterior. She noticed the subtle longing in Yn’s eyes whenever she watched couples around them ─ a silent yearning that spoke volumes. Deeply worried for her friend, Dot resolved to address this unspoken sadness. So, determined to uplift Yn’s spirits, Dot had been collaborating with Herb on a plan for the inevitable. Their efforts were driven by the desire to bring a bit of joy and warmth back into Yn’s life, a gesture to remind her of the happiness she permanently deserved.

Now, as Dot stood at Yn’s door with a briefcase in hand and a hopeful smile on her face, the moment had finally arrived to put their plan into action.

Yn was jolted from her somber reverie by a knock that drew her from the depths of her reflections. Her mind, having been absorbed in vivid, melancholic recollections of the past few years, was momentarily disrupted by the unexpected sound.

Her habit of deep contemplation, honed through years of grappling with grief, had become a regular occurrence during her solitary moments. This subtle undercurrent of sorrow still lingered beneath the facade she maintained around others, save for her daughter, who was spending the day with Dot. The break was meant to be a well-deserved respite, a chance for Yn to step away from her responsibilities and unwind. Yet, as she lay alone in her loft, the quiet was filled with a flood of memories rather than peace.

With a weary sigh, Yn rose from her bed and switched on the lamp beside her. The soft glow dispelled the encroaching darkness, casting a gentle light across the room. As she moved toward the door of her small loft, her footsteps echoed softly in the quiet.

When she opened the door, she was greeted by Dot, whose face was brightened by a warm and inviting smile. Dot held a briefcase in her hands, the enigmatic glint in her eyes hinting at a purpose behind her visit that went beyond a mere social call.

“Hi, bestie!” Dot exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm, her smile beaming brightly. She seemed on the verge of bouncing with excitement.

Yn looked at her with a hint of confusion. “Hi, Dot. Where’s my daughter?” she asked, half expecting to see Odette right behind her friend.

“Oh, don’t worry about her,” Dot reassured her with a gentle smile. “She’s fast asleep. I made sure Herb checked in on her, so you don’t have to worry.” She then adjusted her grip on the briefcase, holding it with both hands as if presenting a treasured gift. Her eyes sparkled with a blend of excitement and urgency. “I need your help with something,” she said, her voice carrying a note of earnest appeal.

Yn’s gaze fell on the briefcase, and she let out a long, weary sigh. “Dot, you know I don’t take on missions anymore.”

Dot quickly interjected, her tone insistent. “I promise, this isn’t a mission. I just need your help with talking to someone for a report. I know I could have asked anyone else, but—”

Yn cut in, her patience wearing thin. “Dot, you don’t need to—”

Dot pressed on, her voice carrying a blend of determination and sincerity. “You’re the only one I truly trust with this. Wanda’s off on her honeymoon, and that leaves Harold, who.. let’s be honest, has a knack for forgetting things. And as much as I value his help, between us, he’s not the best at keeping details straight. Plus, this report would really benefit from your insight—”

“Fine!” Yn interrupted Dot’s rambling, her resolve finally breaking. “I’ll do it, okay? Would that make you happy?” A hint of a smile appeared on her face, softening her expression.

Dot’s face lit up with genuine delight at Yn’s response. “Trust me, this makes me very happy.” Her gaze fell on Yn’s casual appearance. “But before you head out, go grab a jacket. It might be chilly where we’re going.”

Y/N sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She turned away, heading to her closet to retrieve her jacket, her movements deliberate as she mentally prepared herself for what lay ahead. When she returned to the front door, she grabbed the briefcase from her friend, her fingers brushing against a small note that had been tucked underneath.

“Almost forgot to mention!” Dot said with a quick, bright smile, “It’d be better off if you went by yourself. I promise to take care of Odette while you’re away, okay? Oh, and apologies for any age regressions. It was the only way, I swear!” Dot’s words tumbled out in a rush, her playful wink adding a touch of lightheartedness to the situation.

Before Yn could respond at what she just said, Dot opened the briefcase and backed away. A flash of light enveloped her, causing her to disappear in an instant, leaving Dot standing alone with a satisfied grin.

The landing wasn’t graceful by any means. It had been some time since she last felt the jarring impact of a jump. The cold, unyielding concrete greeted her back as she hit the ground, the briefcase skidding to a stop beside her.

A groan escaped her lips as she opened her eyes, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She was in a lonely alley way. It was night, the stars above twinkling in the crisp air. The chill in the air seeped through her clothes, though she was grateful she had brought her jacket ─ despite it feeling slightly looser now that she had a moment to think.

Dot’s last words suddenly echoed in her mind, prompting her to sit up and examine herself. She had indeed regressed physically. Judging by the familiar feel of her body, she estimated she was close to twenty again. How she knew this was unclear ─ the knowledge had simply surfaced in her mind, as if planted there. The realization drew a sigh of frustration from her.

“Great. Just what I needed,” she muttered under her breath, releasing another sigh as she pushed herself to her feet. She reached down, grabbing the briefcase and staring at the note that had been hidden beneath it. With a curious frown, she picked it up and unfolded it, immediately recognizing her friend’s familiar handwriting.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It’ll be worth it !!!

That was all it said, a simple message alongside a smiley face, an address, and an apartment number. The brevity of it puzzled her, but she shrugged it off, assuming it was just her friend's way of offering some encouragement. Folding the note carefully, she tucked it away and began to make her way out of the alley. As she walked, a strange new feeling tugged at her heart, something she couldn’t quite put into words yet.

The walk to the apartment was short, the address conveniently close by. She found herself enjoying the quiet stroll, the crisp night air, and the glow of the city around her. The pretty lights of closed shops and streetlamps reflected off the puddles of water on the ground, remnants of an earlier rain. For once, her mind was still, her usual whirlwind of thoughts subdued as she soaked in the peaceful surroundings. And before she knew it, she was now standing in front of the door marked with the number from the note.

The place felt oddly familiar, almost as if she were experiencing deja vu, despite never having been there before. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and knocked gently ─ five small taps. It was a habit she’d picked up after meeting Five, a subtle, playful signal that it was her at the door.

She listened as the faint sound of footsteps approached, stopping just on the other side of the door, lingering as if the person hesitated. The pause made sense, though, the moment the door swung open.

And there he stood. Alive and breathing.

It took her several moments to even process what she was seeing. It didn’t feel real ─ it couldn’t be. She had been there in his final moments, holding him as the last breath left his body, his life slipping away in her arms. How could he possibly be standing here now? But there he was, unmistakably him, looking slightly younger than when they had first met.

His eyes, those familiar, piercing eyes she had longed for every day since his death, were now locked onto hers, brimming with a whirlwind of emotions ─ surprise, grief, shock. Seeing him again sent a jolt through her heart, unearthing a longing she had buried deep within herself.

This had to be a dream, she thought, a painfully vivid dream. There could be no other explanation. She was on the verge of convincing herself of this, of dismissing the surreal moment as nothing more than a cruel trick of her mind.

But then, just as her thoughts reached a fever pitch, everything came to a sudden, startling halt when he spoke.

“Yn?” His voice was a whisper, so soft it was almost lost in the space between them, yet it carried the weight of a thousand emotions. There was a tremor of hesitance, a desperate plea woven into the single word, as though he couldn’t bear for this moment to be anything but true.

He’d spoken her name like a lifeline. And that was all it took.

Have you ever watched a Studio Ghibli movie? The way characters embrace, with a weightless, almost ethereal quality, filled with a love so profound it borders on desperation ─ something so pure, so perfect, it feels almost unreal? That’s the only way she could describe what happened next.

Her hands, trembling uncontrollably, released the briefcase, letting it clatter to the floor as tears welled up in her eyes. In an instant, she was in his arms, launching herself at him with a gentle force that belied the intensity of her emotions.

The impact pushed him back, and he leaned against the couch for support, his arms instinctively wrapping around her. It wasn’t just a hug; it was an outpouring of everything they had both held back, a reunion that seemed impossible, now made real. In that moment, nothing else existed but the warmth of his embrace and the overwhelming relief of having him back.

It was like a forgotten melody, a touch so familiar yet distant that it brought tears to her eyes. She buried her face against him, her emotions overwhelming her after so many years of longing. It was as though time had folded in on itself, pulling her back to the moments they had shared ─ those quiet embraces when he would hold her close to soothe her fears, or when he sought solace in her arms, or the way they’d cling to each other before sleep claimed them.

Yet, even in this moment of overwhelming emotion, she sensed the subtle difference in his hold. As much as she wanted to believe that this was truly her Five, she knew it wasn’t.

She refused to deceive herself with comforting lies. But the sensation of his arms around her, the sight of him breathing once more, was enough to make her ignore that truth, if only for a moment. She felt his arms tighten around her, as though he, too, was desperate to hold onto this fleeting connection. And he was.

Unbeknowst to her, in this timeline, Five had lost her too, but the circumstances were even more devastating. They had been married in this world, their connection deepened by vows and shared dreams. But her death had been a cruel twist of fate, even more tragic because he hadn’t been there to save her. By the time he found her, the life they had built together was already shattered, the light in her eyes extinguished.

The pain of losing her, the one person who had made the chaos of his existence bearable, was a weight he couldn’t carry. The organization they had both served now felt like a prison, a constant reminder of the price he had paid. So he did the only thing he could ─ he walked away. Not just to escape the unbearable memories, but to honor the goal she had always believed in: saving his family, the one mission that had always mattered to him.

Her words, spoken with love and determination before that fateful night, became his lifeline. She had promised that they would see each other again, a promise that kept him going through the darkest of times. With that promise echoing in his mind, he returned to his timeline, a sixteen-year-old boy again, at least physically, carrying the scars of a life lived far too fast. He fought for his family, saving the world not once, but twice, driven by the hope that somehow, in some way, he would fulfill the vow they had made to each other.

Four years had passed since the harrowing events at Hotel Obsidian, when he’s been rid of his powers ─ a release that should have brought peace. Yet, a lingering emptiness remained, a deep ache in his soul that no achievement could ever truly fill.

And now, against all odds, here she was, cradled in his arms. She wasn’t exactly his girl, but she was unmistakably her in every way that mattered. It felt as though fate had woven its threads to bring them together for this fleeting, bittersweet reunion.

They both understood that this moment wasn’t meant to last, but for now, it was a precious gift. The chance to hold each other again was a final farewell, a way to honor the love that had once been the center of their worlds. They lingered in that embrace, neither willing to let go, as if parting would shatter the fragile reality they had managed to reclaim.

But with an unspoken agreement, their eyes met, and slowly, their lips found each other in a kiss that was both fervent and tender.

It was a mix of deep longing and careful delicacy, as if they were made of fragile porcelain, afraid that any sudden movement might break the bond they had just rediscovered. The kiss bore the weight of lost time and unspoken regrets, a bittersweet acknowledgment of a love that had once meant everything ─ a tentative step toward healing the trauma they had both inevitably faced and shared.

When they finally pulled away, it was with a hesitant urgency, both fearing the other might disappear, as if the moment had been nothing more than a dream.

A quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle escaped them both. With eyes shimmering and full of tears, they whispered in perfect unison, “You're alive.”

To anyone else, the words might have sounded grim, a strange thing to say with such relief. But for them, it was more than just an observation ─ it was a confirmation, a shared acknowledgment of the impossible moment they were living.

“I am,” they said in unison again, their voices soft but laden with mutual relief. A small, genuine smile touched their lips.

“How did you find me?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with curiosity and wonder. Yn’s mind raced, piecing together why her best friend had been so insistent on sending her on this unexpected visit. She looked away briefly, lost in thought, before meeting his gaze again. “Dot did,” she said simply, her expression thoughtful.

Recognition and understanding flickered across his face. “She’s alive?” he asked quietly, a mix of surprise and confusion in his voice. Yn tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing with genuine curiosity. “Well, why wouldn’t she be?”

He sighed, his face a canvas of conflicting emotions as he looked at her. “Long story, love,” he murmured, the term of endearment slipping out naturally as he gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, as if it were part of their unspoken language.

Yn’s smile only deepened, her eyes shining with a warm, nostalgic light. Hearing him use that term again brought a bittersweet comfort. “I’ve got time,” she replied softly, her tone inviting him to share more.

Remember the tale of the two swans? Even amidst the loss, the white swan held onto the belief that they were destined to meet again. In a way, their story mirrored this. Though fate had separated them, it had overlooked one truth: the possibility of reunion, whether in life or death. While no one could truly alter fate, that didn’t mean hope was in vain.

They proved this belief true. Though they were no longer fated to be each other’s, destiny had never decreed they couldn’t forge a new path together. The path ahead would be long and fraught with challenges, but even if they could never fully reclaim what they had lost, having another version of each other was a gift beyond measure.

It was a bittersweet acknowledgment that while they might never fully reclaim the past, the chance for a new beginning made every step of the journey worthwhile.

Three months had quietly unraveled since that singular encounter, each day slipping by like sand through fingers, leaving behind an unfamiliar yet comforting residue of contentment. It was a feeling neither of them had tasted in what felt like ages, a gentle calm that settled in the spaces where anxiety once reigned.

During this time, it was no surprise that Yn remained in contact with Five. Their connection, fragile yet persistent, was nurtured through careful secrecy. With Dot’s clever assistance, they managed to keep their rendezvous hidden, safely out of the Commission's sight ─ a vital necessity, for Yn was determined to shield him from the shadows of that life again.

Dot's ingenuity extended beyond mere meetups; she devised a way for Yn to send letters to Five whenever the tides of their busy lives pulled them apart. Each letter was a memorable, tethering them to one another across the distance, allowing their bond to reflourish quietly. And now, those letters had led them to this very moment, standing together outside Yn’s new home, anticipation in the air,

Five, usually so composed, found himself uncharacteristically nervous, a rare sight for someone who had faced the end of the world more than once. But the reason for his unease was clear.

Over those three months, countless conversations and reassurances had chipped away at his reluctance, finally giving him the courage to face a reality he had long avoided: meeting his daughter. It was not an easy decision. The idea of stepping into a role that once would’ve belonged to another version of himself had weighed heavily on him. He feared it might feel like replacing someone, a ghost of his own making.

Yet, despite his trepidation, curiosity still gnawed at him. A longing to know this person who shared his blood, but not his past.

Standing on that threshold, the soft patter of rain on the porch creating a delicate symphony around him, Five was suddenly transported back to another time, many years ago. He could almost feel the weight of a ring in his trembling hand, hear the murmur of vows as they escaped his lips, each word woven with threads of love and fear.

That moment, when he stood before his past lover, was etched into his memory with a clarity that time could never dull. And now, as the rain whispered against the ground, he felt the same mix of emotions stir within him, knowing that once again, he was on the brink of something that could change everything.

“Yeah, no, I can't do this.” Five muttered, his voice tight with sudden panic as he tried to turn and walk away. But before he could take more than a step, a gentle hand caught his arm, pulling him back with a softness that contrasted the storm brewing inside him.

The woman beside him, her eyes warm with understanding, smiled softly at his flustered demeanor. “It’ll be fine, I promise,” she assured him, her voice carrying a calm certainty that made his doubt seem almost foolish.

“How can you be so sure, though?” he questioned, his eyes searching hers for the reassurance he so desperately needed.

“Uh, I birthed her?” she replied with a teasing lilt, her smile growing as she tilted her head slightly. “I wouldn’t doubt her for a second, okay, love?” She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, her lips lingering just long enough to leave a trace of warmth. “But… if you do feel like this is too much, then I won’t force you.”

Five hesitated, his eyes darting away as he wrestled with the weight of his emotions. But then, with a deep breath, he looked back at her, steeling himself. “No, no… it’s fine. I can do this.”

She gave him one last reassuring smile before turning to knock on the door. Within moments, the door swung open, revealing Dot, her face lighting up with excitement at the sight of them.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!” Dot teased, her eyes twinkling as she stepped aside to let them in. “Come on in, you two. We’ve been waiting forever!”

Yn stepped inside first, Five trailing close behind, his nerves still coiled tightly. They shrugged off their coats, hanging them neatly on the rack. But before they could even gather their thoughts, the sound of tiny, hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway, accompanied by the soft giggles of a child.

Yn’s heart swelled at the familiar sound, and soon enough, a tiny head peeked around the corner, wide eyes brimming with curiosity, before breaking into a wide smile when she spotted her mother.

“Mama!” Odette squealed with delight, her little legs carrying her swiftly across the room. Yn dropped to her knees, her face softening into a warm smile as she opened her arms wide.

“There’s my little swan,” she greeted her, her voice tender as she scooped her daughter into a tight hug. Odette’s arms wrapped around her neck, her giggles muffled against Yn’s shoulder. “I missed you, my love,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head, savoring the sweet moment.

“I missed you more, Mama,” Odette giggled, hugging her mother tightly. After a moment, she eased back just enough to peek up at the man standing a few feet away. Her little face scrunched in curiosity before her gaze shifted back to her mother, her eyes narrowing slightly as if lost in thought.

Five stood a short distance away, watching the scene unfold with a mix of awe and emotion. It felt surreal, like he was witnessing something he never thought possible. The little girl had his eyes, even that familiar smile he wore in moments of joy. The sight filled him with a profound sense of completeness, yet left him slightly stunned, as if he were still trying to fully grasp the reality of it all.

Dot, sensing the need for some privacy, offered a knowing smile. “Well, I’ll leave you three to catch up. I’ve got a few things to wrap up at the Commission,” she said, waving as she backed toward the door. “Take care, and we’ll catch up soon, alright?”

“Thanks, Dot,” Yn said, her smile full of gratitude as she watched her friend leave.

Now, with just the three of them in the room, the atmosphere shifted slightly. Odette, who had been entirely absorbed in her mother’s embrace, suddenly turned her attention back to the unfamiliar figure nearby. Her curious eyes studied him for a moment before she cautiously inched closer. There was a brief pause, as if something clicked in her young mind, and then, without warning, she bolted forward.

Five instinctively crouched down, still stunned by the sudden movement. “Whoa—” he began, his voice faltering as Odette launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. The shock on his face quickly softened, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, his heart swelling with an emotion he had almost forgotten.

She squealed with joy, her small voice bright as she nuzzled into his shoulder. Looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, she asked, “Are you my mommy's boyfriend?”

Five blinked, caught off guard. “Uh... yeah, I suppose so,” he replied, slightly bewildered. Odette beamed and hugged him even tighter. “That means you’re my daddy!” she declared with the certainty only a child could have, her innocent enthusiasm filling the room.

He chuckled softly, a sense of ease enveloping him as he hugged her back, the weight of his past worries melting away. “I guess it does, huh, little one?” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Yn watched the scene with tears brimming in her eyes, overwhelmed by the sight before her. This was the moment she had dreamed of, and seeing it come to life was more than she could have ever hoped for.

Odette, brimming with energy, quickly pulled away and started chattering excitedly. “Mama told me about you! She said you’re really strong, have pretty eyes like me, and have super cool powers! Can you show me? Please?” she begged, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Five hesitated, his smile tinged with a hint of regret. “I wish I could, sweetheart, but I can’t right now. Maybe another time, okay?” he gently declined, ruffling her hair.

Odette’s face fell slightly but then brightened again. “Okay… But you’re staying with us, right? Forever?” she asked, her voice full of hope.

Five looked into her big, expectant eyes and nodded. “As long as you’d like me to,” he promised, pulling her close once more.

Yn watched them, tears finally spilling over ─ tears of happiness, relief, and love. The family she had dreamed of for so long was now becoming a reality, and seeing it all unfold was more than she could have imagined. In that moment, as she observed the genuine connection and warmth between them, everything had felt perfectly aligned.

‎

[disfrutalakia]

Arkanis Lore and where it stands at October 31! A quick rundown by me Kia disfrutalakia

Ok hi hello guys, so I'm assuming that you guys know me from qsmp times and I'm also assuming that most of you are not into Arkanis be it because of the language barrier or lack of time, but you still want to watch your favorite cc in the event tomorrow? Well, I'm here to help, under the cut will be a rundown of the main story (I won't get into characters individual lore, only if they tie into the main story which most do to be fair) plus links to some resources that you can use to understand Arkanis!

This is by no means perfect and was made from using stuff from my own memory, which is not the best, others can feel free to add onto it as they wish <3

1 - What is Arkanis?

Arkanis is a portuguese speaking server that started back in September, it's powered by twitch and was started by Boiss Studios and Ostra Content, it has a heavy focus on rp.

2- Who are the creators in Arkanis?

As of now we have 25 creators in the cast, this includes ex qsmp participants like Pac, Mike, Bagi and Felps as well as some faces you might recognize from purgatory like Guaxinim, Himaru, Gabepeixe. The complete list of creators is bellow:

Pac, Mike, Himaru, Febatista, Bagi, Matt, Felps, Yayah, Guaxinim, Cherry, JVNQ, Choke, MeiaUm, Guhzera, Gabepeixe, Quel, Coreano, Wuant, Maethe and FunBabe were the first batch of creators that we met.

Last week there was the addition of new members consisting of Moonkase, Malena, LBeatriz, NickLink, Al3xey and Kazzio.

Most of the members are brazilian except for Kazzio and Wuant who are portuguese.

3- What's the story of Arkanis?

The story takes place in the small city of Valigma, and it starts with with mayor Jota hiring people that are known to us as specialists to help the town.

Valigma used to be a beautiful town and very rich but recently things have been going wrong, with the water being poluted and the citizens wearing a strange kind of mask.

4- Rundown of what we have by now (this will contain spoilers skip to section 5 if you don't want them <3)

After the specialists arrived in town, we are quickly introduced to the mayor, Jota, who has been in power for 8 years now being in the end of his second term when we meet him, he appears to be a strange sort of character who hides many things although at the time the specialists weren't sure of what.

Apart from Jota we also have two other big characters Bia Raux and Araldo. Bia is a witch of sorts who was banished from the town due to the chaos she caused while Araldo is the owner of a factory that produces batteries in town.

A big part of the story focuses on arkanya, or what we would call magic in our world, a type of energy that lets the person who controls it cast sort of spells that can either be for something good or something bad, there is always a consequence to using it tho

One of the first big events in Valigma was the discovery of ghosts, small creatures that are consistent of pure arkanya and don't have any memories from before their deaths, they form a bond with the specialists calling them their parents even

Remember Araldo, the factory owner from earlier? Yeah he comes into play now, since the beginning he seemed like a suspicious kind of fellow, not showing up to speak with people and forming a sort of rivalry with Gabepeixe, there are cases of Araldo trying to dig into Gabe's lab and even trying to stop him from the creation of machines, not wanting the specialist to become more powerful than him.

You guys will have to forgive me here cause my memory is not the best, but there was an occasion where Araldo cast a illusion over the specialists where they got to see what would happen if they went against him, including robots who destroyed the town. This ilusion. due to needing certain power led to the death of Alice who was the mayor's secretary.

This occasion led to the discovery that Araldo was also capable of using arkanya just like Bia.

That event deeply effected most of the specialists making almost all of them distrust Araldo and even go directly against him by allying with others like Bia and Jota.

For the safety of not only the specialists but also the ghosts who they called children JVNQ made a truce with Araldo, he wouldn't attack them for 25 days and the specialists wouldn't go near the factory in return

Things seemed to be working out, that is until one night Bagi and Gabepeixe (two of the specialists who hate Araldo the most) decided to sort of challenge him or at least taunt him and broke into the factory (which remember, it was banned) and stole/destroyed a creative motor that was powering up the place, nothing happened at the moment but the next day all the specialists were called and Araldo did the most horrible thing, he killed Amora and Denix (two of the ghosts I will introduce them in the next point) draining all of their arkanya and making them dissapear.

This led to three important events, most of the specialists began to choose real sides it was either Bia or Araldo. Jv trying to get Denix back (his son) strikes a deal with Araldo and is taken for days while Choke strikes a deal with Bia to begin her training

Currently Araldo status is banished from the town and his factory is no longer part of Valigma, he remains a big threat tho.

Now what about Bia? Well, she is a witch and seems to have connections with the town from before it was made even, she is extremely powerful and even if when we met her she seems to be weaker than normal she is no less of a threat.

Bia has one objective, to destroy Valigma and she will do that doesn't matter who stands in her way.

She has recently been gaining the trust of many people in town, due to the act of bringing Denix and Amora back.

And what about Bad and Fit? Where do they fit into the lore? Well the truth is, we don't know. the character Bad seems to be playing (Mister X) had never been talked about before, so they are pretty much fresh and new, we don't know how their stuff connects yet

5- Ghosts

As I mentioned earlier, there are small entities in Valigma who are tiny ghosts that act as children for the specialsts, they include:

Denix - The first one to be found, his parents are Gabepeixe, Coreano, JVNW and Yayah

Gris - The second one to be found, her parents are Guaxinim, Quel, Maethe and Mike

Amora - third one to be found, her parents are Bagi, Felps, MeiaUm and Matt

Milo - the fourth one to be found, his parents are Pac, Himaru, Guhzera and Febatista

Tucupi - the last ghost, his parents are mostly Choke and Wuant

6- Links to help you with Arkanis:

First of all, the summaries made by Tayr (one of the founders) are essential and probably your best resource to understanding the story without having to watch all the stream: Link to his channel

Second the Arkanis wiki, it's not complete but can help with knowing the characters better a little bit: Link to the wiki

Now you guys won't like this but, their twitter or bluesky, it's where they post the schedules for the week and do important announcements, personally I try to post all they announce in here: Link to their twitter Link to their bluesky

Their youtube where they post all of the cutscenes that are shown in game: Link to their youtube

And of course the beautiful Arkanis tag here on tumblr <3 it's a small one but it's a good place to find art and some liveblogs!

[somedaylazysomeday]

Shared

You catch Silco's eye at The Last Drop, but he isn't the only one interested in you.

Silco x fem!reader x Sevika

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Clubs, predator/prey vibes, sex, interrupted sex, minor voyeurism, threesomes, anal fingering, double penetration, anal sex, sex toy use.

Masterlist

---

You were on a bed, sandwiched between two warm bodies. You were trying to stay afloat in the wash of touches, your body stretching in ways it never had before. With the all-encompassing sensations, you were struggling to remember exactly how you had gotten to this point. 

You hadn’t been drugged or anything. That much needed to be said, especially somewhere like The Last Drop. But no, the fuzziness of the evening had started from the first time you had caught the Shimmer-glowing eye of Silco himself, and you were drunk on everything that had happened since.

Catching Silco’s attention wasn’t something you had set out to do. Just the thought would have made you dizzy with nervousness and intimidation. Those weren’t emotions you had very often. Growing up in the deepest shadows cast by Piltover had left you with the distinct impression that there was no further you could sink. 

And there were always predators in the deep. 

When you had first noticed that mismatched gaze fixed on you, you had put on your best blank expression. Every Undercity resident worth their air knew that Silco wasn’t someone to fuck with. And if he had decided that he didn’t like the look of you, it would be better to leave The Last Drop before he had a chance to kick you out personally. 

Admittedly, he would be more likely to send his second-in-command, Sevika, to get rid of you. That didn’t make it any more pleasant, though she was easily as attractive as he was - just with a different sort of danger. 

In any case, you lost sight of him after that, though you couldn’t help but scan the crowds regularly for a sight of that glowing eye. Every time you didn’t see it, you relaxed a little more, though you couldn’t help recognizing that there was a part of yourself that rode a wave of disappointment. 

Silco was known for being dangerous, but he was also undeniably handsome. That trim body and sharp fashion sense were paired with the keenest wit the Undercity had seen in decades, and he used it to his best advantage. Silco could take apart his enemies with a few well-placed words and a single command to his army of followers. 

And he fucked.

Very few people could claim the distinction of having been with the Eye of Zaun, but everyone seemed to have a story about the time their friend’s older sibling’s cousin had spent a few glorious hours in the chem-baron’s company. 

You would be willing to dismiss those stories as urban legends, a simple desire to make Silco’s power personal by having it exercised over you directly, but the stories all shared a few too many details. Firstly, they almost always started with someone catching Silco’s eye in The Last Drop. 

Second, he was always very much in charge. It wasn’t something you would struggle to believe. If Silco was going to hook up with a stranger, it was only smart to make sure he was in control of the situation, if only to keep from being double-crossed. 

Third, the person was never contacted again after their initial encounter with Silco. If they met him somewhere else, he was cool and indifferent toward them. It was clear that he was interested in short-term pleasure, not long-term commitment. 

There were a few other factors that featured in most stories, but they weren’t entirely consistent and you didn’t count them. For instance, a lot of stories had Sevika involved, but not all of them. Some listed favorite positions or toys that were used, but those reports were so varied as to be pointless. 

Overall, you considered the stories a fascinating look at how folklore supported shadowy figures in the Undercity. It was an interesting way to pass your time, even if it felt a bit voyeuristic. But you were simply interested in a major Undercity player, and found the pursuit of trends in stories a good indicator of that. You were watching solely as an academic exercise, not from any personal interest. 

That was why you had regularly chosen to drink at the Drop for the past few months. The only reason.

Still, despite the stories - nay, Silco’s sexual exploits had reached the level of legend - you hadn’t expected to actually make eye contact with Silco himself. Even then, your tipsy-but-watchful demeanor hadn’t been enough to see him a second time. 

Perhaps it had been a fluke. You weren’t stupid enough to think it had been anyone other than Silco, but you were also willing to concede that he probably observed the goings-on of The Last Drop. It wasn’t impossible that he had been watching the crowd at the same moment that you had been looking around. Still, there was something about the way his gaze had slowly slid away from yours that made you think he had been watching you for a while.

And you had to consider the tingling feeling of being watched, dancing invisible fingertips between your shoulder blades.

But you hadn’t seen Silco again. Not until you had gone to the bar. The bartender had slid you a drink before you had even ordered, directing you to a hallway that led from one side of the room. There, you found a staircase, and the door at the top had been unlocked…

When you opened the door and stepped into the darkened room beyond, Silco had been inside. You couldn’t claim to be completely surprised - who else would have a bedroom in The Last Drop? 

You also weren’t stupid enough to believe that the room was actually where Silco slept. No, the bed was ridiculously big and the shelves against the walls held a variety of lascivious-looking toys. This was clearly where Silco hooked up with people from his club. 

That, at least, ended up being correct. Silco had shared a drink with you, telling you bluntly that he was interested in fucking you that night. He asked if you were interested in that, too. Your immediate and resounding ‘yes’ was embarrassing, but he only gave a small smirk and told you to finish your drink while you discussed preferences and limits. 

When that was settled, you found yourself on that giant mattress, flat on your back under him as he ravaged your mouth. He explored you thoroughly, taking control so casually and naturally that it only seemed to make sense. 

And then he was inside of you, pushing himself deep as you arched your back and cried out for him. Your voice was loud in the room - too loud, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was thick and hot, and you could feel him throbbing. Or maybe you were the one throbbing, your inner muscles working around him as your body tried to decide whether to pull him deeper or push him out of you entirely. 

Just as you were beginning to relax around and under him, a loud bang made you jump. You couldn’t see much from under the canopy of Silco’s body, but you managed to spy that the door was now open. More importantly, someone was standing inside. 

“Scoop told me to come find you- Oh.” 

The voice was low and rough, so much so that it took a moment for you to realize that it was female. And there was only one person you could think of who wouldn’t be apologizing profusely by this point: Sevika. 

To your mingled surprise and embarrassment, Sevika stepped around the bed until she could see you more clearly past Silco’s shielding body. Her lips curved into a sardonic smirk as her dark eyes wandered over every bit of you visible in your current position. 

“Nice going, boss,” Sevika congratulated lowly. “If you didn’t wreck that pretty pussy, I was gonna do it myself.”

Your breath caught at that, the muscles of your core fluttering at the unexpected filth. 

Silco rolled his hips, pressing further into you and driving a gasp from your lungs. “Mmm, she liked that. And, as it happens, I’ve already started working on ruining her.”

“Everything I’ve seen so far seems pretty tame,” Sevika said with a scoff. “I think you’re losing your touch. Maybe you should let an expert take over.” 

Silco bared his teeth, holding your hips tight against his to keep himself buried deep as he rolled. When you were on top, still laying with your chest pressed to his, Silco raised his eyebrows at Sevika. “I am the expert here. If you don’t believe me, perhaps you should see for yourself.” 

Sevika grinned, teeth flashing brightly in her smile. Her lightning-quick wink was the last thing you saw before she stepped out of view once more. 

When you would have turned your head to keep her in view, Silco gripped your chin and held it steady to press a kiss to your lips. When he let you pull away, he murmured, “Pay attention. You’ll hurt my pride.” 

The feeling of his chest rubbing against your stiffened nipples made your eagerness surge, but the sharp gasp was pulled from you by a different sensation: fingertips running upward along one side of your entrance, trailing around where Silco’s length had you spread wide around him. You couldn’t help a squirming shiver when that touch traveled up and between your cheeks. 

“Sensitive little thing, isn’t she?” Sevika asked, a warm chuckle rumbling through her voice.

“If you could feel her the way I can, you would not need to ask.” Silco punctuated it with a pulse of his hips that made you gasp and cling to him. 

Normally, this was not your kind of thing. You preferred to be an active partner in your sexual encounters, and the fact that most of the comments being tossed around were pointedly not directed toward you should have made you nervous. Probably would have in any other situation, if you were being honest. 

But you felt exposed like this, knowing someone was watching. Someone who had plainly stated that she was also interested in your body. That, combined with the knowledge of how dangerous both of them were, kept you calm as they spoke around you rather than including you in the conversation. You felt as if you were slowly turning into a pile of flesh and nerves, able to do nothing but limply receive the pleasure you were offered. 

Somehow, it was working for you.

“But you have yet to tell me,” Silco continued, giving another lazy thrust that made you squirm down onto him more firmly. “How does she look?” 

“Needy. Hot. Desperate. Sexy,” Sevika said with a hum. Her attention was still between your legs as she scattered adjectives through the conversation. She played idly with you and - if you were to guess from his low growl - with Silco as well. Her fingers pulled you wider, as if testing how far your folds would spread. “The only way she’ll look better is dripping with cum, too fucked-out to move.”

You were listening intently to her, but a sound in the room made it hard to focus. It was only when they both chuckled that you realized the sound was a whine, coming from between your own parted lips.

“I can think of something else that may be better still,” Silco mused. His voice sounded teasing, but he didn’t continue. The silence felt heavy, weighed down with expectation and more than a hint of anticipation. 

Silco’s hand smoothed over your temple, making you twitch with surprise. You glanced up to find him watching you. “What do you think, pet? Shall we invite Sevika to join us?” 

Your mouth went dry. You didn’t want to risk trying and failing to speak, so you settled for a fervent nod. Silco’s lips curled as he glanced behind you. There was a knowing light glowing in his mismatched eyes, but they were aimed at Sevika, not you. 

“Where do you want me?” Even Sevika’s low voice and brusque tone couldn’t disguise her interest. There was a stab of satisfaction in your gut - you may have been needy, but she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted to seem. 

"Hmm…" Silco drawled, tracing circles on your skin that made you shiver. "If we truly want to ruin her, there would seem to be an obvious choice." 

His touch lifted your chin once more, pulling your touch-drunk gaze toward his. With that orange eye burning deep into your mind and soul, Silco asked, "Shall Sevika and I share you? Take you at the same time?" 

You nodded again, but Silco stared harder. "And has your lovely rear ever taken anything before?" 

Feeling inexplicably disappointed in yourself and your past sexual partners, you slowly shook your head. 

"And would you like to try?" 

Your eyes snapped back to Silco's face, core throbbing. "Yes, I would." 

Silco's lips curled into a pleased and slightly predatory smile. 

Behind you, Sevika barked a laugh. "She can still speak." The chill of metal fingers against the side of your face made your eyes flutter closed. "We'll fix that." 

"Get harnessed," Silco ordered, and Sevika's artificial touch disappeared from you. "Use the smallest toy. I want her ruined, not destroyed." 

Even as your body gave a throb, clearly of the opinion that it wouldn't mind either way, Sevika said, "I’ll get ready. You keep doing what you were doing."

Silco took her at her word. He started slow, guiding your hips up and down on his length. When you had found the right combination of movements on your part and the right amount of Silco thrusting into you from below, your pace naturally built back to where it had been before. 

The sound of your panting breaths filled the room, pairing chaotically with the sounds of sex. You had almost forgotten about Sevika entirely in the sprint toward your impending orgasm. But Silco stopped you with a steady press of fingers against your hips, his attention moving to something behind you. When he gave an approving smile, you glanced back as well. 

Sevika was standing behind you, baring more skin than you could remember seeing her display. Her muscular arms were on full show, leading up to broad, strong shoulders. She was wearing a black breastband, but it could hardly contain the rounded swells of her breasts and your mouth watered at the idea of seeing them without any cover at all. Her abdomen was taut, a hint of muscle definition casting shadows on the flat expanse of her stomach. There was a suggestion of a rounded lower belly that made you itch to touch Sevika’s dusky skin, but that bit of softness was covered by a pair of black, form-fitting boxers. 

When your eyes finally fell between Sevika’s legs, you could see that the boxers doubled as a harness. The toy held in place by the boxers was also black, and you struggled to pick out its edges against the darkness of the background. Sevika helped you - perhaps inadvertently - as she worked the short shaft, coating it with shining lube. 

You watched her fist the toy, laying a thick coat of slippery gel over the surface. Your mouth was dry, but you did your best to pretend that you weren’t utterly entranced by the sight. 

Silco gave a rumbling laugh, and it buzzed pleasantly through you. “Like what you see, pet? Do you think you can take her?” 

Sevika smirked at you, hand spreading open between the toy and the boxers so you could see it more clearly. It was… smaller than expected. 

“That’s it?” you asked, cringing at yourself a moment later. 

Sevika laughed out loud. “For your first time? It’s plenty, trust me. Anything bigger and we really would destroy you.” 

You smiled back, but Silco was already moving on. “Sevika is going to prepare you. I want your eyes on me.” 

When you turned back to face the man beneath you, Silco nodded slowly. “One moment.” 

Silco’s hands were firm around your hips. He used the leverage of them to spear himself as far into you as he could get, pressing deep and deeper until there wasn’t a fraction of space between your pelvis and his. Your mouth had fallen open somewhere along the line as you dealt with the flood of sensations, but he wasn’t done. 

His palms slid up either side of your spine, pulling you forward until you were lying flat against him again, your breasts crushed to his chest and his length shifting oddly inside of you. You weren’t sure what look you were wearing when you stared down at him from inches away, but the pupil of Silco’s green eye was blown wide and you thought you would drown in the darkness of it. 

Sevika’s touch made you jump just a bit, but it was enough to pull you free of the trap in Silco’s gaze. She must have been touching you with her metal arm, since her hand was cool and firm against you. She found the place where your spine met your ass, the spot where the sway of your spine rose past your tailbone and into the swell of your hips. 

When her hand was on that anchoring spot, Sevika pressed down. It wasn’t painful, even with the unyielding metal of her replacement arm. However, it did lock you in place against Silco, holding you steady even when you tried to squirm at the feeling of him inside of you. 

The feeling of warm, slippery fingers came a moment later - hardly a surprise, even as a gasp fought to escape you. That touch traveled closer and closer to the center of your ass, working its way toward that secret place hidden between your lower cheeks. 

She quickly found your rear entrance and pressed a finger against it. You made an inhuman sound at the firm touch even as you fought to wiggle your hips closer. When her hand on you and Silco’s anchoring grip made that impossible, you settled for arching your back to give her better access. 

Sevika laughed, and the sound warmed your face. “Responsive. I like her already.” 

“Just wait,” Silco told her lazily. “She’s the best I’ve had in some time. Not overly chatty, either.” 

“Just the way you like ‘em,” Sevika remarked. Her fingers playing against the small of your back made you shudder - or perhaps that was the way her other hand was poised and ready to breach you. When Sevika spoke again, her voice was closer to you, as if she had leaned in. “Don’t worry, we’ll get some sounds outta you either way.” 

Somehow, you managed a halfway sexy laugh. "Promises, promises." 

A firm slap to your ass took your breath away. It was a good spank, but it also forced you further into Silco's cock and ground your clit against his pelvis. 

"Sevika," Silco's voice lashed lowly through the room. "Enough teasing." 

As if to prove his own point, Silco used his grip on your hips to pull you up off of him and slam you back down. The suddenness of it made it all the more intense, and you started riding him without any further prompting.

"We'll start you off slowly," Silco said, offering a nod past you. 

A cool drop of liquid landed just above the crack of your ass, sliding slowly downward. The first drop was followed by another and another, until the slippery gel had started working its way down to your heated core. 

Searching fingers slipped between your cheeks and you tensed reflexively. Sevika's voice was low and close as she said, "Relax."

That wasn't going to happen any time soon, not with her touching what she was getting ready to, but you made an effort anyway. The tension drained slowly from your muscles, and you were so focused that you hadn't noticed the way Silco had stopped moving again.

His hands traveled upward to splay across your back once more, holding you steady as one of Sevika's fingers found your rear entrance and began to press against it. 

Your vision seemed to dim. Not from the sensation itself - though that was certainly a source of interest - but because you were concentrating so hard on the way it felt that you weren’t fully using your eyes anymore. Beyond a vague recognition that Silco was watching you closely, all of your focus was on something you couldn’t see. 

With the lube that was coating you, Sevika’s finger provided almost no friction. If not for the press of her knuckles against the softness of your cheeks, you would hardly know what she was doing. Her finger was equally slick (you suspected it had been coated with a fresh sheen of lubrication), but far more noticeable with the way it pressed against you. 

Your entrance braced against the intrusion, fighting to keep it out. As the pressure increased against you, you drew tighter and tighter. Silco made a surprised noise at the way your inner muscles squeezed around him. It was quiet, but just enough to distract you. You relaxed as you glanced at Silco, and that was all it took for Sevika’s finger to breach you. 

Naturally, you tensed. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Not uncomfortable, but different in a way that stole your focus. That ring of muscle seemed to stretch impossibly wide around the invader, and that feeling only grew as more and more of her finger sank into you. 

“You’re a fool not to take her ass yourself,” Sevika informed Silco. “She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Perhaps I consider the privilege a reward for your excellent work,” Silco countered. “Besides, she is strangling my cock now. I think this will prove pleasurable for both of us. And even more so for our lovely guest.” 

Sevika hummed in agreement, the fingers of her free hand dancing over the small of your back. “If she can walk after this, we haven’t done enough.” 

With a twisting motion, Sevika curled her finger all the way into you, stopping only when her knuckles were pressing against the cheeks of your ass. The noise you made was short and sharp, an audible expression of your pleasure. 

“Are her eyes crossing yet?” Sevika asked. 

Silco caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, carefully turning your face from side to side. “I do not believe so, but we have plenty of time. Sevika will keep her finger in you, pet, while we resume our activities. I want you used to taking something in two places at once before we start in earnest.” 

It wasn’t a question - no part of it had been, but you nodded anyway. Silco grabbed your hips again, guiding you in a new rhythm. He stayed deep inside of you, his tip never quite leaving your core even as he thrust. You picked up the pattern and started to follow it eagerly. There was a different dimension to the pleasure with something in your ass. 

Sevika followed your movements with her hand, keeping her finger buried in you. It spurred you on, adding spice to every thrust as you adjusted to being stretched in two places. 

A warmth at your back warned that Sevika was leaning in again. “Let’s take him apart.”

Your movements stuttered when her finger started to move inside of you, but she didn’t start to fuck you with it. Instead, she curled the digit, timing each curl perfectly to catch Silco’s tip at every thrust.

Silco’s brows furrowed, a harsh curse leaving him. He picked up speed when yours faltered, holding the rhythm even when you were completely distracted by the feeling of Sevika pressing against the thin wall that separated her from Silco. 

At last - and long after your brain had melted entirely - Silco seemed to have had enough. With his chipped teeth bared, he hissed, “Sevika. Take her.” 

The abrupt feeling of Sevika’s finger sliding from you made you gasp. She and Silco both chuckled, though Silco’s voice sounded a little strained. 

“Ready?” Sevika asked, ducking forward so you could see her without straining your neck. Her eyes seemed even darker, excitement sharpening her features. You could only nod in silent agreement. 

Her hands pressed you forward against Silco’s chest once more. You felt them travel down slowly, teasing where you and the chem baron were joined. Her touch dipped briefly lower and Silco cursed again. “Focus, Sevika.” 

As if enticing her to do exactly that, Silco grabbed as much of your ass as he could possibly hold, spreading your cheeks wide as your face went hot. Sevika’s hastily stifled groan eased your embarrassment, but your breathing had picked up and you were fighting not to push back toward her. 

A metal hand against the base of your spine drew your attention from your own eagerness for a moment. “Keep relaxed for me,” Sevika urged. 

It was an impossible thing to ask, but you did your best as she placed the tip of her toy against your ass. You felt your eyes widen as she started to push into you. 

You had seen the toy. It was small, almost laughably so. But now, it felt immense against your rear entrance. As it started to spear into you, it seemed to stretch you impossibly wide. The intrusion burned slightly, even with the generous amounts of lube that coated both you and the toy, and you would have shifted away from it if Silco weren’t holding you so tightly. 

Your mouth opened, ready to call things off and walk away, but there was a slight popping sensation that made you jolt. “Head’s in.” 

Sevika’s explanation answered your unasked question, but you couldn’t acknowledge her verbally. The steady slide of the toy into you was smooth and inevitable, your body letting it in with minimal struggle. 

The firm press of her boxer-clad hips against your ass made you jump again, but Sevika’s hands smoothed down your sides. “Doin’ good for me, pretty girl. We’re gonna stay like this for a minute.” 

You nodded, agreeing to yet another thing that hadn’t truly been a question. Slowly, Silco urged you to sit upright on him. You winced at the feeling of being stretched in two places, but it wasn’t painful. Silco wasn’t a small man and it was always odd to move this way with someone inside of you. Sevika’s toy was small, but it was odd and different enough to make you double-check every sensation to see whether it was good or bad. 

Sevika started things, gently massaging your breasts from behind. Her touch was gentle but insistent, bringing your body back to eagerness. Silco joined in soon afterward, focusing his attention between your legs. His nimble fingers teased your folds around where he was speared and further back, but most of his attention was fixed on your clit. 

Your lips parted as your breathing picked up. Silco and Sevika’s motions synced up, and Sevika’s fingers rolled your nipple just as Silco gave your clit a firm rub. You moaned aloud, head tipping forward in time to see a smirk spread over Silco’s face. 

“It sounds as if our pet is ready to be fucked,” he remarked conversationally to Sevika. “Shall we?” 

“Hmm…” Sevika hedged, rolling her hips against your ass as she thought. The motion knocked you off-balance, pushing you forward along Silco’s cock and spearing you back onto both of them when you corrected your position. You let out a plaintive sound. “How can I resist when she sounds like that?”

“Are you ready?” Silco asked, grabbing your chin once more. 

That grip kept you from nodding. With your three functional brain cells, you managed, “Yes. Please.”

“Please,” Sevika repeated, amused. “You don’t have to beg. Yet.” 

And then they started to move. The first few thrusts were disjoined, leaving you tossed back and forth between them like a toy boat in a storm. But they found a devastating rhythm soon enough. Silco pumped in and out of you, using his length to best advantage. Sevika had less of a shaft to work with, but she focused her energy on giving a little swivel of her hips with every stroke. The combination was lethal. 

It seemed that you had just started when your body tightened. Tension was screaming through every muscle, warning that you were only moments away from utterly imploding. 

“I- I’m–” you stammered, someone taking the words from your lips before you could get any further than a single word into your warning. 

“We know,” Silco said, smugness written across his face. 

“Surprised you made it this long,” Sevika agreed. 

You decided that the best revenge would be to come. Your body wasn’t waiting for permission from your brain, but the timing was great - no sooner had you made your decision than every muscle in your body locked down. 

Colors burst behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm you’d ever had roared through you. You had always imagined going through a hex-gate would be like that: an all-encompassing experience that robbed you of every sense until you were through. Of course, if the hex-gates felt anywhere near as amazing as it did to come on Silco and Sevika’s cocks, you would understand the exorbitant prices for passage. 

If not for Silco’s hands on your hips and Sevika’s arms around your torso, you would have stopped moving entirely, other than to collapse forward. Somehow, they kept you upright, even when they edged you toward overstimulation. 

Silco let out a low, wordless growl as he fucked up into you hard for a thrust, then two. When he was buried as far into you as he could possibly get, he came. The condom he wore kept you from feeling its heat, but his staccato pounding pushed you into a strong aftershock. 

He was almost pretty like that, you reflected, watching Silco writhe beneath you. Fierce, of course, and always imposing, but somehow pretty. Maybe it was the way his eyes flashed, or how his face narrowed even more with the intensity of his pleasure. Or maybe it was the way his jaw dropped, a helpless sound of pleasure leaving him even as his brow crinkled with irritation at his own vulnerability. 

Eventually, Silco lay slack on the bed, watching you and Sevika as his cock slowly softened inside of you. You were still pushed forward and back on him, moving slightly with Sevika’s thrusts. It felt inappropriate somehow, having your ass fucked while you were watched by the man you had started the night with. But Silco seemed unbothered, tracing lazy circles against your hips as he held you still to receive Sevika’s thrusts. 

You could come again this way, you decided idly. Anal was a slower build to orgasm than you were used to, but it was certainly more powerful when it got there. 

“Close yet?” Silco asked eventually. It could have sounded impatient or jealous, but his tone was nothing more than curious. 

“Close,” Sevika confirmed. “It’s a smaller hilt than I would have wanted.” 

“Did you choose the one that vibrates?” 

You couldn’t see Sevika’s expression, but there was something close to glee in her voice as she said, “Forgot about that, but yeah.” 

“Allow me,” Silco offered valiantly. He reached to grab something from a nearby table, and then you were too busy writhing to worry about what he was holding. 

Sevika’s toy buzzed violently in your ass, and you were choking on air at the unexpected sensation. You could only squirm with the surprise of it, but when you had regained some control of your muscles, your instincts hijacked your brain. The only thing you could do was lean forward onto hands you had planted against Silco’s chest, pulling away and thrusting yourself back onto Sevika’s toy as quickly as you could manage. 

Between your sudden eagerness and Sevika’s continued thrusting, the toy pulled free of and punched back in far more often than it had up to that point. A small, almost silent part of you recognized that the ache would be fierce the next day, but that concern was overwhelmed by the vast majority of you that insisted this was necessary. You needed to come again. If you didn’t, you would die. 

At last, Sevika gave a sharp, staccato cry and buried her face in your neck. The flexing of her hips buried the toy as far inside of you as it could get. The buzzing brought you to a small but powerful second orgasm. You reveled in every second of it, even as Silco turned off the toy’s vibrations and soreness immediately set in. 

Sevika pulled out of you, and the resulting motion of your hips allowed Silco to slide free as well. You collapsed on the surface of the bed, your fall cushioned by blankets and the arms of the two strangers you’d had sex with.

They started a low conversation above you as you throbbed and basked in the afterglow. Either they were speaking too quietly for you to hear or your brain wasn’t quite capable of processing speech yet. Either way, you were largely left to your own thoughts. 

You hadn’t watched Sevika come. That was the only part of the experience you regretted. Silco was beautiful when he came, and you were willing to bet that Sevika had been the same. Unfortunately, she had been behind you and there were no mirrors that you could see. You felt cheated, almost, robbed of the chance to see a strong, stunning woman brought to her knees with pleasure from your body. 

But you couldn’t truly complain. The rest of the night had been incredible. Silco truly deserved to have so many people talking about his talents in the bedroom. If he had orchestrated the whole scenario - and you strongly suspected that he had - he was both a master manipulator and someone with a keen need for pleasure. 

Yes, if you were only going to get one chance at this, you were satisfied in how things had played out. And you had been with both Silco and Sevika! Two of the most dangerous people in the Undercity had let you share their bed, and they had cared enough about your pleasure to be sure that you came twice. 

Now, you had your own story to share… but you didn’t think you would. This felt like something to keep quiet and close, to treasure for the rest of your life. And, of course, to get off to when you were feeling particularly lonely or needy. 

“Is she wrecked enough for your tastes?” 

Silco’s quiet question was the first thing you had understood in quite some time, and you realized with a start that he was talking about you.

“Mmhmm,” Sevika hummed, sounding wickedly satisfied. “Look at her.” 

Since they were sitting at the right angle to be staring at your sensitive core, you didn’t bother to keep your eyes open. You were tempted to be shy, but sleep was calling louder and louder. They had made a mess of you, after all. They could look at that mess if they liked. 

“I would like to try her mouth next time,” Silco added, almost absently. 

Sevika let out a short laugh. “Works for me. I wanna bury my tongue in that pussy until she’s sobbing.” 

“We’ll have to do this again soon,” Silco agreed. 

You could hardly believe your ears, but even your excitement couldn’t keep you awake. You faded into soft and filthy dreams, the words ‘next time’ echoing in your ears as you went.

---

Author's Note - The reader character does and says a lot less than I'm used to writing, so my apologies for that. Honestly, this was fueled by scraps of a weird dream after I had too much wine one night. My excuse is that it was a very overwhelming dream for an ace-spectrum writer, so I just got it all down on paper as soon as I could!

Thanks for reading!

[aajxs]

middle of the night , a.s

synopsis - the one where anakin got so crossfaded at a party one night that he had to text you to take him back to the apartment he shared with your older brother, but somehow ended up at yours.

pairings - anakin skywalker x fem!reader (modern au)

warnings - mentions of alcohol and weed use , anakin being a hater , protective anakin , kinda possessive anakin , mentions ani having naughty thoughts , whiny anakin , cute til it AINT , inexperienced reader , titty sucking , oral (f receiving) , praise kink and degradation kink , fingering , p in v sex , kinda clothed sex?? (anakin doesn't take his pants off all the way) , poorly written smut

w/c - 5.9k (WOW.)

a/n - negl I got sloppy af at the end cuz idk how to properly write smut!!! this is an alternate ending to a prompt in my bbf!anakin post. also for my sake please ignore any spelling or punctuation errors lmfao. anyways, enjoy! <33

masterlist .

You had just gotten out of the shower, still wrapped in a towel, when your phone vibrated from its spot on your bed. You didn't bother looking, assuming it was someone posting to their story or a notification from a dumb game you downloaded and haven't played before (yet still wouldn't delete it.)

You dried off then got dressed, slipping into a black tank top and a pair of shorts. Your phone vibrated a few more times, so you grabbed it as you made your way back into your bathroom to brush your teeth. All of the notifications were from Anakin, who rarely texted you. You unlocked your phone and read all of the texts, a few consisting of a bunch of gibberish and another that had an almost fully readable text.

'csn you come oick me up? ill sendn yoy my location' It read, making you let out a small laugh as you brushed your teeth. Anakin obviously wasn't sober, you could tell because on the rare occasion that he did text you, it was nowhere close to like this. You then got a notification, that being his live location. He was serious?

He was about ten minutes away, but with it being night and there being few cars on the road, you could get there in five. If you were an experienced driver, that is. Anakin knew that you weren't a very good driver, he had been in your car with you driving it enough times to know. Yet he still decided to text you instead of your brother, who's literally his roommate.

You texted him back, telling him that you'd be there in ten minutes before shoving your phone into your pocket. You quickly finished brushing your teeth then rushed around your apartment. You grabbed your keys, your wallet just in case, and bottle of water from your fridge for Anakin, then put on some slippers and exited your apartment.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, making you grab it and read whatever Anakin had sent you this time. It read, 'pelase hurry therws a rsndom girl grindikg on me right jow'. You smiled at his bluntness before rushing down to your car, texting him a quick 'omw rn ani' as you started your car and began driving to Anakin's location.

It didn't surprise you as much as it should have that Anakin texted you, there was obviously a reason, and most were guessable. He probably knew your brother was asleep and didn't want to burden him, and as someone who has had to live with your older brother for years, you knew that he probably would have gone back to bed and forgot about Anakin.

You never expected brother's best friend would be texting you and asking you to come pick him up from a random party. Although, Anakin has contacted you on worse terms.

Anakin didn't know why he texted you of all people, but for some odd reason it felt so right. Although you're his best friends little sister, he never really thought of you as a friend or sister figure. Anakin always thought you were cute, and you were just the sibling of one of his friends. He had plenty of friends with little sisters and brothers, so why were you so different?

Maybe it was because you were the sibling of his best friend, not just one of his friends that he only talked to on campus. Maybe it was because you actually talked to him and payed attention to him, and you guys were somewhat friends (seeing as you went through middle and high school together, now college).

Anakin never really paid attention to you throughout middle school or the beginning of high school. He saw you basically every day when he would hang out with your brother, stayed the night at your house more times than he can count, and never had any weird or inappropriate thoughts about you. But when you started... developing, you were pretty hard to ignore.

To Anakin's hormonal teenage mind, developing was the only word he could use to describe you. Anakin had always seen and treated you like a child, so why was he suddenly having these filthy thoughts about you? He never acted on them, he would have been too guilty to ever face you again if he did. The biggest problem Anakin had with his thoughts was knowing that he wasn't the only one thinking of you that way.

Anakin had the privilege of being your older brothers closest, most trustworthy friend. Anytime you wanted to introduce a new boyfriend to your brother, he brought along Anakin. "Me and Anakin were hanging out already so I decided to bring him with me, hope that's alright." Most of the time that actually was the case, but Anakin soon found out that your brother just needed a secondhand opinion.

Anakin didn't think the way the guy looked at you was appropriate? Your brother took it into consideration. Anakin thought he was sketchy? Your brother would hear all about it. Anakin thought he was a bad influence? Your brother was convincing you to break up with the guy. Sometimes Anakin said nice things, then proceeded to spread a fake rumor about the guy just so it would get to you and your brother.

On top of that, Anakin started getting more protective over you. For example; Anakin stayed the night one weekend and him and your brother decided to drive up to the store and buy some snacks because there were none for them to eat. Your brother knew you were staying up late to study for an upcoming test, and asked Anakin if it was alright if you go too, assuming you needed a break. Anakin shrugged and your brother knocked before he opened your door.

You were wearing headphones so you hadn't heard him say your name the first time, so your brother walked up behind you and tapped your shoulder, making you take them off and turn to look at you. "N/N, me and Anakin are gonna go get some snacks. You need a break, so you're gonna go with us." You gave him a nod before locking eyes with Anakin, who was leaning against your doorframe. You looked away as you got out of the office chair that you were sitting in to grab your slippers and phone.

When you were at the store, your brother had wandered off to find a certain snack, leaving you and Anakin alone. You were trying to figure out which Doritos flavor you wanted, and Anakin was observing you as you contemplated. It felt like he blinked and suddenly you were getting talked to by a random guy. You looked uncomfortable, looking around for a moment until your eyes landed on Anakin, who was glaring at the guy.

"Excuse me, I think my boyfriend just said my name." You awkwardly said as you stepped towards Anakin. His eyes practically lit up at the word boyfriend, but decided to brush it off and play the part for your sake. Anakin gave him a small smile before placing his hand on the small of your back, slightly worried that if he put his hand anywhere else he would go crazy. When you both turned around, your brother turned the corner with a couple snacks and three drinks, and Anakin gave him a look before glancing at the guy who was about two meters away.

Your brother was trying to figure out why Anakin was touching you, but before he could say something he put two and two together and brushed it off. He walked towards you both and handed you your drinks before gripping your shoulder, walking on the other side of you. When the three of you walked past the man, he muttered something under his breath that you couldn't hear.

Obviously Anakin and your brother heard what he said, or else they wouldn't have turned their heads in sync. "What the fuck did you just say?" Your brother said, the hand on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "I called her a slut." The guy said louder. Needless to say, you all got kicked out because Anakin decided to punch the guy. You guys ended up getting take-out.

To put it plainly, Anakin didn't exactly like seeing you with other guys, and hated it when he heard anybody call you anything less than perfect. Another problem, was that Anakin knew exactly why.

The reason you were so different, the reason he defended you so often, and the reason he texted you, was because Anakin Skywalker was in love with you.

You had been waiting outside for a good five minutes before there was a knock on the window of your car. You let out a breath and unlocked the door. When you assumed Anakin wasn't sober, you didn't think it would be this bad. As soon as he opened the door to your car and sat down, you could smell the alcohol and weed on him.

"Anakin you actually stink—" You said, resisting the urge to cover your nose at the smell. "I'll take off my shirt?" He offered before beginning to take off the black t-shirt he was wearing. Even under the influence he was still a sweetheart to you. "No- No, Ani it's fine, I'll just roll down the windows." You said, placing your hand on Anakin's chest to halt his movements as you started driving. You rolled down both of your windows slightly.

There was music quietly playing, and as Anakin reached to turn it up, you swatted his hand. "Rude.." He mumbled before folding his arms across his chest. "Why did you text me, Ani?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the road, "Because I knew you would be a good girl and not say a thing about this." He slightly slurred. You felt yourself shudder at Anakin calling you a 'good girl'.

You felt his burning gaze, and you so badly wanted to look back at him just to see the look in his bloodshot eyes, but you decided against it. "You don't know that." You said with a curt laugh. "I don't? Really? Because I vividly remember that one time you came to me and-" Anakin started, "What a coincidence! I need gas!" You said, cutting off Anakin and pulling into a gas station.

Anakin let out a huff, "Can I trust you to pump my gas while I go in and pay?" You questioned as you parked the car, glancing at Anakin. "Yes ma'am." He said in a serious manner, making you let out a small laugh. "Half a tank is fine." You said as you both got out the car. Anakin went to grab the gas pump whilst you walked into the sketchy gas station and paid for your gas.

"Thanks!" You smiled as you walked out of the building. Almost as soon as you stepped out of the gas station, you ran into someone. "Oh- I'm sorry," You said, backing up a little and glancing at the person in front of you. "No worries, it's my bad. Sorry if this sounds weird, but you're really pretty." He said, looking you up and down, his eyes lingering on your cleavage for a second too long.

You glanced over at your car to see Anakin leaning against it with crossed arms, staring right back at you. "Thank you so much, I appreciate it!" You grinned, "Can I have your number?" He asked bluntly, "Oh, I don't think.." You started, but you were cut off at the shout of your name. You looked over and Anakin was now glaring daggers at the guy in front of you. "I don't think that'll be necessary, thank you though!" You said with a soft smile as you made your way back to your car.

"Under better circumstances I would have thanked you for that, Ani." You said with a sarcastic smile as you both got back into the car. "Oh! I almost forgot that I brought you a water." You said as you grabbed the slightly cold water from the cupholder and handed it to him. "Thanks, you're an angel." Anakin said as he placed a hand on your thigh and gave it a light squeeze as he grabbed the water and chugged at least half of it.

You wanted to give him a reaction, but decided to keep driving and ignore it. He wasn't sober, so he most definitely wasn't thinking straight. "Can we go to your place instead? Its closer." Anakin said almost out of nowhere. "Why would you want to go to my place? You don't live with me?" You asked, glancing at him to see him already looking at you. "Because yours is closer." He said with a tinge of playfulness in his voice.

"But-" You began, "Please?" Anakin said with the smallest whine. Curse him and his dumb pretty voice. "I-" You hesitated, and the look in Anakin's eyes wasn't making this any easier for you. "Okay." You sighed, as you turned the car to the street your apartment complex was on. "But ill have you know that you are not staying the night, just until you're sober enough." You said as you parked your car in your usual parking spot. Anakin let out a breath, content with your answer.

You lived on the fifth floor of the complex, and the elevator just so happened to be out of order, so it was a hassle getting an unbalanced Anakin up the stairs to your apartment. From an outside point of view, it probably looked like both of you were high. Anakin kept cracking jokes, and every time you laughed he added onto it to make you laugh even harder. So by the time you were at the top of the stairwell, you were out of breath from both the laughing and the walking.

"Anakin that's the wrong way," You laughed as Anakin walked towards the wrong door. You heard him mumble a few curse words before turning around and making his way back towards you. You unlocked the door to your apartment and walked inside, allowing Anakin to shut and lock the door behind him. "Cozy." Anakin said as he walked into your room and plopped down onto your bed. "Excuse you-"

"Y/N," Anakin cut you off as he kicked off his shoes, you hummed in response. "Do you remember last summer?" He asked, watching intently as you make your way throughout your room. "What about it?" You said, your voice turning a bit soft at the thought. You sat on your bed, leaning against the headboard with your legs crossed. "You remember how I went on vacation with your family?" Anakin said, rolling over to lay on his stomach to look at you.

"Yes.. where are you going with this Ani?" You said, tilting your head at the man in front of you. "Just- listen. You remember that guy you met at the beach, right? And you remember why I ended up beating the shit out of him the day before we left?" Anakin said as his blue eyes bored into your E/C ones. "No, nobody ever ended up telling me why." You said with a laugh as you gazed back at Anakin. "Do you want to know why?" He asked with a small smile, "Quit teasing, I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't want to know!" You said, extending your leg to kick his shoulder. "Full story, or just a quick summary?" Anakin joked. He knew you, he knew that you wanted the full story. You scoffed at his words and looked at him expectantly.

"I don't remember why, but we ended up walking with each other along the beach while you and your brother were playing around in the water not too far away. We had been talking about.. you, and then he brought me up. He asked what I was to you," Anakin explained, his brows scrunching every few words. "I told him, 'I'm just her older brothers best friend. Sometimes she likes me, sometimes she doesn't'." He said as he ran his hand along your bare calf. You scoffed, "That is such a lie! At first I didn't like you that much, but I always thought of you as a friend!" You said, Anakin frowned slightly at your words.

"Anyways- He said, 'Then you wouldn't mind if I bent her over in that pretty little two piece and fucked her?'. I stopped walking and looked at him. He didn't even notice I paused until I turned him around and punched him in the face," Anakin said with a small, prideful smile. "You wanna know what he said after I hit him a few times? He said, 'I guess you would mind, wouldn't you?'." Anakin said with a curt laugh. "Would you have minded?" You asked sincerely, making Anakin look at you from his spot on the bed. "Do you want the truth?" Anakin asked, tilting his head a bit. You bit your lip and nodded at him, signaling for him to keep talking.

"Yes, I would have." Anakin said as he sat up. "I never told your brother that story, you know? The only person who knows why is the guy." You laughed at his words. "I'm gonna go get a bottle of water, do you want one?" You said, as you got up from your bed, he nodded as you ruffled his hair and walked out of your room. When you left, Anakin was finally able to let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding in. Your home smelled so much like you, and that scent made Anakin want to go absolutely feral.

Anakin adjusted his position on your bed, now laying down on his side whilst facing the door. "You made yourself comfy." You grinned as you walked back into the room, handing Anakin his water as you took a couple drinks of yours. "Thanks." He muttered as he took a drink of the water. You sat down, your back now against the backboard of your bed. "You still smell like weed." You mumbled as you gave Anakin a soft smile. Anakin didn't smile back, he just looked at you. His once bloodshot eyes were now their usual blue.

One thing you had always noticed about Anakin, was how intense his gaze was. He held eye contact like it would be his last time ever making it, and it made him all the more attractive. Not only was Anakin's stare intense, he was too. If he wasn't a long time friend of yours, you probably would've been scared of him. You had always had a subtle crush on Anakin, but him being your brothers friend always made it rather hard to show your attraction. Anakin was making you nervous with only his eyes.

You cleared your throat, "Why would you have cared?" You asked as you played with the drawstrings on your shorts. "You are so... Is it not obvious by now?" Anakin said as he grabbed your wrist, then sitting up and copying your position. You let out a small gasp, your mouth parting slightly. Anakin saw a chance, and he took it. He leaned in and your lips connected, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back for a moment before realizing that Anakin might've not been sober.

Almost out of instinct, you pulled away. Anakin leaned towards you more, seemingly chasing your lips. You placed a hand on his rock hard chest and softly pushed him away. "Ani.." You muttered, giving him a nervous smile. "Anakin you're not-" You began, but he quickly cut you off. "Y/N, I've been sober for the past twenty minutes. Please just let me taste you." He pleaded lightly, making you curse under your breath before smashing your lips back against his, careful not to hit his teeth with yours.

Anakin put his hands on your hips and moved you on top of him so that you were straddling him, catching you by surprise. Your lips parted and Anakin took this as an invitation, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

One part of you wanted to pull away and tell him how wrong this was, tell him that this was a bad decision and that he needs to go home. The other part of you knows how good this is making you feel, and you can't seem to stop.

Anakin cupped your face with one hand and tugged at your top with the other. He pulled away slightly, a thin string of saliva going with him. "Can I touch you?" Anakin asked, the hand that was once tugging at your shirt now resting on your waist. "Please," You pleaded as you went to kiss him again. He let out a breathy chuckle and sloppily attached his wet lips to yours.

Anakin's hot tongue in your mouth and his wandering hands were getting you all different kinds of worked up. His rough hand made its way up your shirt. You squirmed at both the foreign feeling and how cold his hands were. His hand reached your left breast, and he gave it a light squeeze. "Take your shirt off." Anakin breathily demanded as he pulled away from the kiss. You stared at him for a moment, obviously hesitant to show yourself to him. "You don't have to-" He started before you abruptly stopped him. You took his free hand and covered his eyes with it, "Don't look." You muttered as you took your hand away from his.

You took your tank top off before self-consciously attempting to cover yourself with your arms. Anakin has seen your body multiple times, just in a less.. inappropriate manner. You didn't know if you really wanted him to see you uncovered fully. You gave him a look when he peeked slightly. He saw that you noticed, and decided to take his hand away from his face and reach towards you.

"Ani.." You muttered, your face heating up as Anakin rubbed your arm. He opened his mouth to speak, but right before any words could come out you adjusted your position on his lap, making him let out a moan instead. That has to be the sexiest thing you've heard in your entire life. "Don't use that nickname on me while we're like this." He mumbled, slightly embarrassed at the noise he just let slip. You could feel his hard straining against his sweatpants, poking right at your clothed, throbbing core.

"I took off my shirt, that means you have to take off yours." You hummed, though your voice came out more demanding than expected. Anakin stopped rubbing your arm and took off his shirt in one swift motion before tossing it to the side. Anakin was fit, he always had been. This just made him all the more attractive to you. You wanted to touch him, too, but you were self conscious and didn't want to uncover yourself.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Anakin touching your arm, "Can i?" He asked, referring to the arms you had tightly wrapped around yourself. You looked at him for a few moments before nodding slowly. You loosened your hold around yourself, as if that would've stopped him anyway. Anakin took your hands and moved them down to his toned chest, being sure to run them across his toned abs and v-line.

You could feel yourself heating up at the action, seeing as you had never touched anybody in such a way before. You completely ignored the fact that Anakin was definitely staring at your tits right now, but you couldn't find it in you to care. All you could focus on was what was gonna happen in a few moments, and how you were gonna keep this from your older brother.

Anakin leaned forward and attached his lips to your neck, sucking and licking at random spots. "Don't worry about your brother, if he finds out I'll take care of it." Anakin muttered into your neck. "Okay," You gasped as Anakin softly bit down on your shoulder.

You were even more surprised when Anakin decided to trail down to your breasts and take one into his mouth. He wrapped an arm tightly around your waist and secured you in place, then used his free hand to fondle your other boob.

The small moans you let out were like music to Anakin's ears, and if it were up to him he would bust then and there at the sound of you. He took your breast out of his mouth and planted a kiss on your nipple, then did the same to your other. "Such pretty tits.." He mumbled into the skin between your breasts. "All mine, y' hear me? All mine." Anakin said as he flipped you over and pinned you to the mattress, making you let out a yelp.

Anakin kissed and licked at your torso, sucking on the skin as he worked his way down. He inched closer to the waistband of your shorts at an excruciatingly slow pace, making the knot in your tighten more and more. "Ani, please just touch me already!" You pleaded, making him look up at you through his lashes. "Touch you where, sweet girl?" He teased as he tugged at your waistband, making you rub your legs together. "You know where," You whined as you ran your hands through Anakin's already tangled hair.

He cursed under his breath before pulling down your shorts. Saying you were wet would be an understatement. "You always get this wet when a man touches you, or am I special?" Anakin said as he ran two fingers down the cloth, making you let out a loud moan at the contact. "I-I've never had.." You trailed off, closing your legs and covering your body out of embarrassment. Anakin let out a hum, "I guess I'm special, then." He grinned as he placed his hands on your thighs and parted them for himself once again.

"Can practically smell you baby," He groaned as he literally ripped the panties from your body. "Those were expensive!" You whined as he tossed them to the side. "Such a pretty pussy, all wet jus' for me.." Anakin muttered as he ran a few fingers along your sopping cunt. "Anakin!" You moaned in an irritated voice, still upset that he ripped one of your favorite pairs of underwear. "Fuck- I'll buy you a new pair, whatever you want." He said whilst grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders, giving him perfect access.

Anakin placed a soft kiss on your pussy before licking up from your throbbing hole to your sensitive bud. You let out a whimper at his actions, "Taste so sweet," He mumbled before he practically attacked your cunt, licking and slurping up all your juices like a man starved.

That unfamiliar knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter with every moan you let out. "An– Anakin!" You loudly moaned without a care in the world. He hummed into your pussy, knowing you had to be getting close. You started babbling nonsense as you roughly grabbed Anakin's long hair and shoved his face further in between your legs.

"Think 'm gonna—" You started before cutting yourself off with the most beautiful moan Anakin's ever heard. Although you were twitching and jolting against him, Anakin didn't stop his advances and even shoved two fingers inside you. Your back was arched off of your bed, Anakin's face and fingers were buried deep in your cunt, and your sheets were most definitely not coming back from this.

Your hips jolted and grinded against his face in a useless attempt to get him further into you, not caring at all if he was suffocating between your legs. Your moans slowly got more drawn out and louder, signalling that you were about to cum again.

Anakin knew you were probably overstimulated but all he could think about was how good you taste on his tongue and how much he wants to stuff you full of his cum. After wetting Anakin's face even more for the second time, he stopped eating you out for your own good. He could probably go all day if you wanted him to.

He wiped his face off with his hand, being sure to lick anything excess off of his skin before wrapping your legs around his waist and giving you a sloppy kiss. "You taste so good." Anakin quietly said into your mouth. You couldn't tell if he was talking about your mouth or your pussy.

"Wan' you inside me, Ani." You whimpered as Anakin placed more kisses along your jawline, "Might be too big for you baby, not sure if you could take me." He muttered into your neck, a cocky smile on his face. "I can take you. Promise I can— Jus' want you in me.." You said, as you brought your hand to his crotch. Though before you could touch the tent on his sweatpants, he grabbed your wrist and pinned both your hands behind your head.

Anakin gave you a boyish grin, making you pout slightly. "Gonna have to warm you up first." He said as he let go of your wrists and brought a hand to your hip, seemingly holding you in place. He brought his other hand back down to your throbbing pussy, and inserted two fingers.

You moaned at this action, surprised that he didn't even try to see how you reacted to one. You're a virgin, that much is obvious. You've probably never been touched in such a way by another person, and even if you have you probably declined any advances because you were scared of losing your dignity. From the way you react to his fingers, you've probably touched yourself a few times before, you just weren't used to hands his size. Needless to say, you were everything Anakin assumed you would be. Your innocence is turning him on a bit too much.

Anakin started off slowly, he'd already made you cum twice, and he didn't want to overwork you. "A-Ani, faster—" You moaned out as his two fingers popped in and out of you. He gave you a cocky smirk before increasing his pace and harshness. He would come out softly then shove his fingers back into you just to hear the pretty noises you let out when he did. "Anakin, 'm gonna cum!" You moaned, as you bucked your hips into his fingers.

You let out a moan as he put another finger inside you, somehow fitting three of his long fingers inside your tight hole. "C'mon baby, y'know I won't hold you back." Anakin said as he leaned over, whispering his words into your ear. Your eyes slightly rolled back into your head as you came all over his long fingers. "What a slut, all that just over my fingers?" Anakin said as he licked his hands clean of your juices. "You taste so good though." He said as he kissed your cheek.

You whimpered as you rubbed your legs together, giving him a look. "Use your words." He teased, that cocky smile on his face once again. You let out an annoyed hum, "You know what I want!" You were starting to get impatient. "What's the magic word, pretty girl?" He asked, giving you another one of his boyish grins. "Please, Ani." You pleaded, making Anakin smile at you.

He pulled his sweatpants and boxers down to his knees, not caring enough to take them all the way off. His cock practically leaped out of his pants, and the first thought that popped inside your head was 'What the fuck have you gotten yourself into.'

That actually looks heavy. You thought to yourself as you actually got a good look at his dick. Anakin wasted no time grabbing his cock and spreading the precum that was leaking from the tip all over his base as some sort of lubrication. He let out a curse or two as he dragged the tip from your sensitive clit to your dripping hole.

Anakin was definitely not thinking about all the ways he could get you pregnant right now. Definitely not. "Stop teasing and fuck me already, Anakin." You moaned out as you stared at his length. He let out a chuckle, making you look at his face. The moan you let out when he shoved the whole thing inside you was probably the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Your neighbors are gonna be so mad.

"Can I move?" He asked gently, placing both of his hands on your hips. "Fuck— Y-Yes, please, yes-" You let out as your back arched off the bed. Anakin let out a satisfied hum before slowly moving. He'd pull out, making you feel empty for a few moments and then slowly insert his length back into you, filling you up again.

"Faster, Ani-" You moaned, making him fasten his pace. Your toes were curled and your back was arched and your fingers were harshly digging into your mattress and sheets. He slowly but surely started ramming into you, and after just a few thrusts he had your g-spot memorized.

"Fuck, Ani-" You whined as he paused for a moment to wrap your legs around his waist again. With no words, he immediately began ramming into you again. His thrusts were making your entire room shake and the way your bedframe and backboard hit the wall, you almost felt like it would break any second.

There were tears in your eyes and they were wetting your pillow. For a moment Anakin couldn't tell if you were hurting or if it was pleasure. "'m sorry baby, am I hurtin' you?" He asked as he slowed down his thrusts. "Mmh- no! Keep goin' Ani 'm so close—" You whined out as you gripped his shoulders.

The knot in your stomach was slowly getting tighter and tighter and you knew that any second you could come all over his cock. "Harder, Ani!" You moaned out, making Anakin grin for the hundredth time tonight.

His thrusts started getting sloppier, "Wanna cum inside you, fill you with my babies." Anakin said as he pulled your body down onto him. "Wan' you to fill me up Ani, please!" You whined, the both of you knew that you would probably just buy birth control the next morning.

Before the two of you knew it you were both cumming in sync. Anakin filled you up, and when he pulled out he could see the mix of your juices and his leaking into the sheets. He gently dropped your legs onto the mattress before shuffling back to pull his boxers and sweatpants back up.

You were incredibly tired and your throat hurt from all the moaning and screaming. You looked so pretty like this. Anakin thought as he grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor. You quietly said something about your sheets and Anakin dismissed you. "We can take care of your sheets in the morning baby, but right now I need to clean you up." Anakin muttered as he took his shirt and wiped your wet tears from your face before wiping up the mess you two had made between your legs. He gently wiped you down with his shirt, not caring that it was probably ruined.

"I have towels, Ani." You tiredly said before you muttered an apology for not telling him to grab one instead of his shirt. "It's okay, I don't care if it's you." He said under his breath, assuming his words were a bit too intimate to say loud enough for you to hear. "Y'know, I love you." You muttered before drifting asleep.

"I love you too."

© AAJXS

[urspiritualnurse]

Pick a card. (Left to right)

What do I see when I orbit around your soul?

Pile 1.

Predominantly shapeless souls, sometimes harvest itself into a form that it's beholder deeply lacks, wants, yearns, desires or the opposite, fears.

I see that yours has mimicked a root.

Why has it shaped itself to that, what desires or what subconscious motive caused it is something you will naturally realize at your own pace and timing.

I see the repeated number 9s in the cards, and in this case I perceive that number as a blockage, a mid stop, a constantly frequenting incompletion, just when you believe you are about to reach the complete numeral 10, it restarts back to 1, and so begins the continuous sishyphean cycle.

If you picture a root digging in the soil and entangling itself to every fibre and grain of it, that imagery is usually delicate, gentle, soothingly heartwarming .

But in your cards, the picture I visualize is rather hostile , as if every string of that root has claws, shredding each grains, piercing through any and every vitality of the land to dig itself down, so fiercely and so passionately, as if it's life depends on it.

With no end goal, destination in mind, that it is aware of, it just absentmindedly keeps on digging.

I see you going from people to people, community to community, anywhere and everywhere, with your roots clawing on every connections you have had, with a pure intentions to find solace but your desperate and devoid roots knows no other way to plead firmness, and stability except digging furiously onto everyone and everything.

Do you find yourself to be an uncomfortable being to be and be around?

Has your soul crossed you out from being its land where it can simply ground itself?

Has it found other candidates instead to have them fulfill your role?

Do you have someone that you feel is the epitome of comfort?

Ask yourself, when I'm nearing their existence, my soul's form which I have no awareness about, how is it approaching and interacting with them?

Your soul is wandering sad and desperate to feel a sense of connection to a land that it can call its own, why are you uncomfortable to your ownself? That is for you to unpack and unravel.

What can you do to call your beloved vital essence back to yourself?

Start by asking, "why do you make your soul uncomfortable ?"

( your vital roots will inadvertently be claws to the lands, that isn't yours to dig.)

Pile 2.

Anger is an advocate of those too timid to speak.

But if anger is unsupervised, unguided, unguarded, it denotes to the onlookers, that it is only a mere tantrum with loud speakers on, consisting the blend of generous vulgarity and crude language.

I see, in this pile humiliation has been the main force behind reasonable outbursts of anger.

Was there a crowd who laughed when you would scrunch your expression in fury? Was there a community that mocked your anger's sensibility and intelligence?

From this reading, an image of a canine species comes to my mind, whose fangs represents your justified anger, yet I see those fangs growing so tall and untamably beyond the line of normalcy, that it pierces through the specie's snout, making it unable to voice out the core reasons in sensible, coherent language and speech.

Your anger, (and I keep wanting to reassure you) is justifiable, valid.

Yet it has reached to a point of such humiliation, and provokery from the flocks of lunatics around you who are too insensible and too uncompassionate themselves to ever see past your fury.

That your anger has surpassed its own ability to communicate.

It has lost the language it is meant to use for efficient self expression that causes no harm to you and others and also the reality around.

Have you heard the term "blacking out", your anger goes through that quite a lot.

Don't be too hard on yourself, or your burning anger, for that is the only warmth that is loud for you to notice , that is emanating from within you, not others.

A warmth that says, "I care."

Do what you must, after reading this pile.

But my utmost suggestion would be, communicating with your anger.

Ask it, who is it angry at? What did they do? What did they caused?

Nomatter who the culprit behind it is, whether your ownself or others.

Just notice how the anger responds to your question.

Does it howl incoherent language?

Does it throw things around and punishes inanimate objects, walls with your

knuckles?

Or does it speak.....

In a language that only those who are truly listening can understand.

(Insensibility towards a disheartened child, is what leads to a tantrum.)

Pile 3.

Do you know in this whole play of existence, we all expect certain things from the earth that we reside in.

And if we were to put all those collective desires in a single piece of paper, one would notice a common thing from each anonymous man's written desires.

Luminosity.

Every living being with a thrifty sense of individuality, somehow always seem to find anything luminous, desirable.

Or maybe, it's just that, what you want always seems to shine.

Whether it's love, promotion, prosperity, good health, vacation, etc.

I see in this pile, the luminosity you desire is of riches and the freedom that it comes with.

And when I speak of freedom, you must know how grand and multi dimensional it is.

The freedom riches gives, the freedom love gives, the freedom good health gives, etc, are all different yet they all are indeed a valid face of the multifaceted term, freedom.

I see you, having almost a professional outlook and interactions with the world, the earth.

I can almost hear you speak to it, " You are letting me live here, I will pay you back for your service by not throwing litters around, donating to charity that cleans your vast back, agreeing on plastic bans, etc"

In all of those chat you hold with the earth, in your subconscious mind room.

You represent formality and such alienating disconnection, that your inner sense of disbelief towards anything that promotes unity is reasonable.

What you want from this world is a luminosity build by luxury.

No shame, no bringing forth discussions about compassion here because the synonym of riches doesn't mean cruelty, for me to ever dictate you of how you should be and must pursue.

Do you ever feel like escaping your office and the very building you work on?

Somedays the formality eats you up and chews your mental agility and spiritual resilience, so much so you just wish to be at home, playing with your autistic and unspeaking cat.

You can do that.

You can call off the work.

You can reach out to the elevator and press the ground floor that takes you to the parking lot, there will be your car waiting for you, you can get in it and drive away from the office, the work air.

But what will you do when the crushing formality surrounds not just that place, but the entire earth?

Can your car drive you up to mars? To the moon? To the stars?

For you to escape even for a second, out of such professionalism burdens that you inhale every living seconds of your life.

In this reading, I see no visions that I must introduce you to.

You are already a visually active person, you think with visions not just numbers.

By no means this reading insinuates you of being unkind or lacking in any humane qualities.

Neither is it a complain from the mother earth to you.

Take it as a gesture unfolding infront of your awareness.

A gesture that suggests sensibility in your life.

Even the faintest mimickery of sensibility has acquired you a tip of what you yearned for.

Ponder, what the real thing could pull.

(Has the professional interiors followed you, even to your bed?)

Pile 4.

I must introduce you to an objective of mine that suggests what this outside world consists of, happens discreetly within our interior too.

Adversity, competition, push and pull, dog eat dog world pace, etc.

And how you may ask?

Every external worldly tension stems from various reasons, one that stands to this day, the most valid is, lack.

The uprising heat and debates, the battles of winners and losers are here, not just because of human sadism to win but to also get hands on a place, position, thing,etc before someone else does.

Which comes from an arguably devastating narration that we all collectively feed on, lack.

Your internal world seems to be a world copied and pasted from our very reality.

You seem to tell your internal conscious residing within you, that you lack space so severely that to be accepted for residence, one must go for the other to find the leash.

Competion arises the moment lack wanders around introducing itself.

Your masculinity and your feminity will compete for a position because you told them, only one must stay.

Your anger and the contradicting poise of a breeze will compete the moment you say to yourself, i need only one to navigate.

Your mind and heart will start to clash, get into heated arguments that spiral you into madness, depression, anxiety and mental , physical, emotional, spiritual agony.

Because you told yourself, only one is reasonable, the other is not.

That only one is reliable to execute life with, the other is not.

So, when your whole internal cells that makes up your entirety feels like a war zone,

a telenovela about a sibling rivalry, the marching tension between you and your competent colleague, or the ticking time bomb that ticks rules such as the one who gets there first gets to have it, etc.

You must know, it is because a narration is being given with or without your awareness.

That says,

I lack.

I lack so, what I consist entirely of, must decide with each other, who is to get deducted and who is to stay.

In this reading I don't think I need to guide you into answers because you already are aware.

But as a gentle nudge, here goes my everything.

" Lack only exists in places where prosperity unsettles us."

(Stop playing "the floor is lava" with the entirety of yourself.)

[probablyasocialecologist]

The methodology for the Cass review was established by a team from the University of York including Tilly Langdon, who has previously been involved in promoting Gender Exploratory Therapy – an approach which, despite its neutral-sounding name, discourages children from identifying as trans and has been likened to conversion therapy. Her approach included setting a very high bar for evidence to be considered in the review, ruling out 100 of the existing 103 studies into the use of puberty blockers and hormones to treat trans children. The reason given for excluding all these studies was that they did not incorporate a double blind approach – in other words, they did not involve giving puberty blockers to some patients and placebos to others. This might sound like a reasonable objection on the face of it – until one considers that puberty is a dramatic physical and psychological process, and people can easily tell when it’s happening to them, so a double blind simply wouldn’t work in practice. The Cass review called for more research and, again, few would disagree with this. The suggestion that treatment should be withheld in the process, however, is not neutral. It presupposes that the harm done by puberty blockers (demineralisation of bones, which is usually temporary in the short-term treatment recommended and is similar to what occurs in pregnancy) is more severe than the harm done to a trans child by going through the wrong sort of puberty. The latter is linked to high rates of self-harm and suicidal ideation, together with the need, in many cases, for extensive surgical procedures. Confusingly, the review states that children taking puberty blockers showed “no changes in gender dysphoria or body satisfaction”, which suggests that the author didn’t actually understand what puberty blockers do at all. They don’t make children feel better – they just delay a process that makes them feel worse. This is one of several oddities in a report that lacks internal consistency. It states that there is no established definition of social transition, for instance, and does not offer one, but goes on to talk about it as if there were. It also talks about autistic ‘girls’ identifying as trans in increasing numbers, treating this as mysterious and as cause for concern, despite acknowledging elsewhere that more and more girls are being diagnosed as autistic, so one would expect more diagnoses to be present within any subsection of the young female-assigned population.  Perhaps the most worrying of the review’s conclusions – which should concern people far beyond the trans community – is the suggestion that as far as NHS treatment is concerned, trans people should be treated as children until they are 25. The rational for this is that 25 is the age when (on average) the brain stops developing. As any neurologist will tell you, the brain is in fact never static, and within ten years or so of that age, it begins to shrink. Deciding who has the capacity to make decisions based on brain age could have unintended consequences for the likes of Cass (64).  That aside, what would setting the age of true adulthood at 25 mean for everybody else? If we couldn’t allow people to consent to medical treatment at 24, should we ask them to risk dying for us? If not, then at a stroke we could lose a quarter of our armed forces. Likewise, we would have to give serious thought to what to do about a third of parents who might not be considered competent to look after their newborn children.  And then there are issues like contraception. Right-wingers have long contended, on one pretext or another, that teenage girls shouldn’t have the right to take the pill without their parents’ consent. This is where the review’s suggestion starts to look less like a double standard and more like the thin end of a very nasty wedge.

[anneapocalypse]

What is "the occult" in FFXIV?

Ever since I first laid eyes on the EE3 bit about Urianger's parents I have been noodling on one thing in particular. Encyclopedia Eorzea volume 3 refers to "the occult" as Urianger's parents' field of study (and the reason they were so absent from his life). Every since that discovery, I have been curious what that actually means. What is "the occult" in a universe where magic is real, measurable, and a highly legitimate and prestigious field of study?

So, where else is "the occult" referenced in the game?

Thanks to this invaluable searchable transcript, I've found a few other references in MSQ.

The first use of the term "occult" in MSQ that I've found is way back in the Gridania starter quests when some Ixali "Occultists" are trying to summon Garuda at the Guardian Tree. In isolation I'd take this one with a grain of salt since it's very early in ARR, but I think it's consistent with other usages. The description for Whorleater Extreme also uses the term, referencing "the occult knowledge of the Ascians," so from the start there is an association of the occult with Ascian magicks and specifically with summoning.

The only other mention in MSQ comes from Alphinaud in Endwalker, where he and Krile are giving us the tour of Sharlayan, and specifically Phenomenon:

Alphinaud: As the center of what would later become the Studium, it was established to promote the study of aetherological phenomena, hence the name. Alphinaud: Though with aether being a fundamental aspect of nature, its scope expanded to include every conceivable facet of life and even the universe itself. Alphinaud: And then, in the four hundred and thirty-second year of the Sixth Astral Era, Phenomenon was decreed complete and the Studium officially opened as a place of learning. Alphinaud: With a long and storied history, it is without question the world's leading authority in aetherology, the arcane, the occult, astromancy, and countless other fields, standing proud as─ Alisaie and Krile: ...Sharlayan's foremost educational institute!

Okay, so "the occult" clearly falls within the general field of aetherological phenomena and magic, though that we could have guessed already. Something that catches my eye is how in more than one place, "occult" is contrasted with or referenced as distinct from "arcane." This is the case in Alphinaud's speech above, as well as in the Blue Mage quest "Everybody Was Fukumen Fighting," wherein Bluehood says, "No occult tricks or arcane incantations can contend with the all-surpassing might of blue wizardry!"

In the Loporrit Allied Society quests, we also get this odd little quest "Hare-Raising Thrills," in which we're asked to make "Occult Paraphernalia" for a Loporrit called Thrillingway. Depending on crafting job, dialogue with Keepingway will elaborate thus:

"It seems he requires a pair of shears─but not just any pair. No, he desires blades sharp enough to carve fur clean off!"

"He wants a sturdy coil of rope suitable for binding all four limbs of…a 'friend,' allegedly."

"Seems he wants a highly acidic gel for some dubious purpose I did not have the heart to inquire about. Honestly, I think it's best if we don't know."

Which. I mean. Okay. lol. Do what you will with that.

But probably most illuminating is the use of the word "occult" in a couple of Red Mage quests, and in the Sky Pirate raid quests.

In "The Weeping City," Cait Sith says, "Thus did the Mhachi magi construct an occult device that would more securely bind the voidsent to their will..."

And in the Red Mage quests "With Heart and Steel" and "Traced in Blood" we have, respectively:

"The tomes with passages pertaining to the voidsent Lilith are all forbidden occult works..."

and

"...the secrets behind Lambard's occult transformation."

In both contexts, "occult" seems to be connected to voidsent, specifically to Lilith in the case of the Red Mage quests.

And this ties back to the references in ARR as well, since from the beginning Ascians have been connected with the Void, even before we knew what the Void actually was. So it's safe to say at this point, I think, that "occult" can refer to magicks connected to the Void and to Ascians.

There's just one more reference I found that flummoxed me a bit, and that's this description of the Arcanist class, which refers to arcanist weapons as "occult grimoires." I found it odd initially because in most other contexts "occult" seems to refer to magicks seen as illicit, as opposed to the socially acceptable "arcane." But it does make a kind of sense, given that it is from Arcanist that we get Summoner. If summoning of primals is occult, then by extension so is summoning in the arcanist sense, even if it's not truly the same thing. This would seem to be the exception to "arcane" and "occult" being distinct categories, which leads me to believe that the distinction is more cultural than ontological.

So I think from the above, we can consider "occult" to be a fairly broad term that may be used in several distinct but overlapping senses:

Magic related to the summoning of primals.

Magic related to the Void, voidsent, and Ascians.

Magic which is taboo, forbidden, or otherwise outside of that which is socially accepted.

As a footnote, I think this is particularly interesting in the context of Urianger being introduced as our resident expert on primals, despite the fact that that's... really not specifically his field of study but merely adjacent to it. Urianger's primary interest is prophecy, and certainly plenty of prophecy seems to reference primals and Ascians and that's where we see him doing a lot of his research, but it's not the same field, merely overlapping.

Without more information we can't know for certain what his parents were actually studying. Maybe they were interested in primals, or Ascians, or the Void. Maybe they were studying Void-related magics. It's also possibly they were simply arcanists particularly interested in the summoner side and we shouldn't read much more than that into the reference to "the occult." Who knows.

But nonetheless, several of these interpretations would mean that in a way, Urianger has followed in their footsteps despite their making apparently little effort to guide him that way, which I find to be an interesting angle to his character and also profoundly sad in its own way--not that he found his own interests in those areas, but that the Augurelts had a child so naturally inclined toward their own interests and still took so little interest in him.