#last time I played Hollow Knight (probably a bit before that) i decided not to sit on any benches (aborted when i got to the CoT

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A brown-toned comic of P3RI, the artist's botsona. They lament on how long it's been since they've played Dishonored, start playing it again, and then lie to itself that it'll keep this playthrough casual. The bottom quarter of the image lists the self-imposed challenges they rack up. End ID]

back at it again folks

[thelador-s-mclargehuge]

Episode 3, Finding some footing!

So this is where I started to find where I stood in the series. The last couple of posts was just me going scene by scene describing things, this one I want to focus in on two things. Starting a Lore Bible, and Action Scenes.

So between ep 2 and 3 I took a trip to my grandmas which is always good to get the creative juices flowing. And I knew the Mantis Lords were coming up, and I thought "Mantises are kinda tied in to a lot of places, what with the Trator Lord, the breakup between the tribes, and the pale mourner quest. It seems like there's a lot of fertile ground for lore expansion there!" So I started expanding The Mantis stuff. Then I kept going. I'd established that Fighting History, was going to be a simplified version off Film History I'd already name dropped Zells and Hilltop, during the hornet fight. How much farther can I go with that? And maybe I should give the exposition to Sly.

The Concept I had for Quirrel was based on a Blade Runner 2049 reference I used him to make in the old series... but what if I Kept Expanding Outward.

And eventually, it was time to make this episode. Here is where I had an idea of where to go after this. I'd been playing it by ear up until this point, with a few exceptions. I knew how I was going to do some story beats, like Myla and The Ending. But now I knew what direction I was taking everything else. Hollow Knights lore is veeery open to interpretation. And If I was going to make a narrative series out of it. I needed to interpret. So I decided to go hard on that. I'd say I threw off my shackles and made my own cannon, but Hollow Knight's cannon is a tapestry filled with bits torn out on purpose. So I just filled them in. And while filling them in I realized how wide the canvas was. So I just kept going. And I'm still going!

And ultimately, going that direction I think is the best way to go. Everyone watching the series probably know how the story goes. And it's going to go mostly the same way. But it sure feels a lot different when you've got a lot more going on. And I still got a lot of surprises up my sleeve!

Now let's talk about the fight scenes. So something I didn't talk about during the Episode 2 behind the scenes is that I stopped rendering these videos in 60fps. The reason I did that is because, with the dynamic cutting, the Hornet Fight Scene just looked *way worse* in 60FPS. That framerate is really good when you have to watch out for Hornet's attacks, and therefor are focusing on a mostly static screen where the movement is done by the character and not the camera.

But when every action gets it's own cut, And the camera AND the characters are moving 60FPS can get visually overwhelming. You don't need to actively interact with A Youtube Video. The editing and camera movement does that for you! And if you just have a static screen of the characters moving it looses a majority of the 'oomph' quick cuts, zooms, and framing can give you. It's incredibly boring!

So I render these in 30FPS exclusively now.

But the reason I bring that up is that I noticed something else in the Hornet Fight It's very vertical, and Academy Ratio Widescreen looks much better than 16:9.

So i played around in the hornet fight a little, and eventually decided against going with that. Because hornet did do a lot of jumping in the air and having the full 16:9 rectangle gave me a lot more vertical room.

But I didn't need that with the Moss guards.

So the day before it needed to be released, I looked at it, and it felt like half an episode. There wasn't really a conclusion to it. 'cus at that point it just had the moss guard fight on the bridge and "Still Counts!" was all the training out lil guy did the whole episode.

So I thought "Why don't I just put, like, another fight scene in there where he learns something?"

So I did that. Then I went back to my Widescreen idea.

And I thought to myself "Okay, pretentious much? You're just gonna change the aspect ratio purely for the fight scene on your Hollow Knight Youtube Video?" Everything Everywhere All At Once hadn't come out yet, you see.

So I thought "Well okay, If I'm gonna do that. I think I need another reason for it to be there other than It Looks Better This Way" Which was wrong, of course, that's always a good enough reason. but I thought "If he's training, maybe those are the margins the character writes his notes in. He can put boss attack strategies in there!"

And, while it's been a pain in the ass and a helova lot of work. It's honestly one of the best ideas I had for the series! And I made it 3 hours before my final render lol. Sometimes you give yourself needless barriers, but sometimes a clever solution to something that isn't a problem, turns it into a new cool thing. Not always. Probably not usually. But sometimes!

[saal-school-project]

Part 3

7th grade (2018-2019)

7th grade was the best. It probably wasn't that good, and I remember it with rose-tinted glasses, but I remember actually being happy and actually liking school. insane, I know. I had a really tight-knit friend group. I had a best friend who best friended me back. I loved math and I was good at it too (what a plot twist!). I worked out and ate healthy (well kinda, it was healthy compared to now). I had to get glasses because I messed up my eyesight just the summer before by playing so many video games and writing a lot, but I didn't mind. I still kept journals. My ramblings were still in Turkish but now sandwiched between lists of new English words I came across on the internet every day. I started using a pen some of the time instead of a pencil to write (That might seem like a really unnecessary detail, but over time I came to hate the feel of pencil on paper). My notebooks are much bigger now.

Oh, okay, I remember really wanting a Nintendo 3DS (handheld gaming console) to play Ocarina of Time (it's exclusive to the 3DS; well, thats the remaster version; the original is a N64 game). Now you don't have to own a 3DS to play Ocarina of Time; actually, just use an emulator. Tell that to my 7th grade self. I actually wanted to buy a Nintendo Switch and play Breath of the Wild, but that was too expensive in my mind, so I decided to go for a 3DS to satiate my longing. Gosh, I made a cardboard version of a 2DS, and I made it at school during the art lesson.

The thing is, Nintendo consoles really aren't popular in Turkey. PlayStation is, Xbox is, but Nintendo? Nope. That made things harder for me. First of all, there is no regional pricing; they sell the games dollarized, and the Turkish lira was losing its value against the dollar even back then. Well, to be honest, Playstation doesn't have regional pricing either, but since Playstation is widespread in Turkey, you can buy games secondhand for cheaper, which is not the case for Nintendo at all! Anyway, my mom had a friend living in the United States, so he bought one for me and sent it with international cargo. I had the intention to pay, so I picked one of the older models so it would be cheaper, but then he just gifted it to me. Not gonna lie, I wished I picked a better model.

Me playing pokemon x on my link edition 2ds. I put stikers on it.

Oh, remember how I mentioned that I wanted to make a game too? Well, during 7th grade, I designed some characters! It was very Hollow Knight and Undertale influenced. I want to make a platformer with 2D animation like Hollow Knight, but I also want it to be story-driven with fleshed-out characters like Undertale. It would be a weird combination. I haven't played that many different types of games yet, so I didn't know that there was a much better format for the game I was envisioning. I am sure I knew of visual novels back then, but I didn’t know of their potential yet.

I made quite a few designs, but I was only satisfied with three of them. I'm not going to show any of my designs here, but maybe one day.

Anyway, aside from me picking up a 2DS in 7th grade, the summer was uneventful. No wait, I also bought a drawing tablet for my laptop to make animations because I like animation!

Again this is a really cheap and small one, it’s kinda hard to draw on it.  I recently formatted my PC, so most of the animation is gone now. (ignore my dusty keyboard)

Overall the 7th grade’s summer wasn’t that bad; I got new games to play on Steam too, but it definitely wasn't a blast like the last summer. A bit disappointing, to be honest. and the summer eventually ended.

[stillebesat]

Code: Blanket

Sanders Sides: Janus, Virgil, (Logan & Remus mentioned) Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Prompt: “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” with Anxceit? (platonic is 100% good for me) Blurb: A friendship doesn't stop just because one person decides to act like a dick. Especially when said dick is obviously in trouble. Overall Fic Warnings: Homophobia talk, Neglectful/Abusive Parents implication, Capitol Riot references. Taglist in Reblog

Janus Daemon @TheGatekeeper *12m To the ‘family’ that locked me in our unfinished attic these past 4 months to “knock the Antifa sh!t” out of me; Pretty sure this is worse than anything I’d have done. Don’t bother deleting the evidence of your ‘trip.’ It’s already been passed onto the proper Authorities. Cheers.

Virgil shot upright in bed, staring at the tweet and the handful of photos from the storming of the Capitol that Dee had attached along with it. “No way.” He breathed. No freaking way.

Janus. Janus Daemon, the goodie-two-shoes who always obeyed his parents and followed their lead...had actually turned them in as Capitol rioters?

He frowned, tapping on his phone to blow up the images so he could see the people within them better. Yah, no. Even if it had been ages since he’d seen Dee’s family...there was no denying that two of the dozen faces circled and labeled in the pictures were the same parental figures that he remembered sneering down at him before they forcefully dragged their son off the playground when he was six.

That had been right after...Virgil hunched his shoulders. After his Dad’s divorce from his Mom. Apparently hanging out with a child who only had a Dad in the picture was a big “NO” in their messed up book of rules.

Not that that had stopped them from becoming secret best friends in school...well until last year that is….when his Dad had married Remus.

That had...been rough...when word got out--well reached Dee’s parents and they’d stormed the school to find their son working on a project in the library with him, the ‘hooligan freak who dared to be okay with having two dads when it was unnatural to the natural order of things.’

He’d known, from Janus, that his parents were uptight...but that day had shown him how all Daemons were a Demonic Clan of Super Karens that had campaigned nearly as hard as the President to force both his Dad and Remus from their jobs in order to protect the community from their sort.

Unfortunately for the Daemons, they’d picked the wrong family to mess with. Not when his Dad, Logan Andrews, was considered to be the best lawyer in the state, if not the country. Not when his new husband, Remus Knight, had just finished performing a life saving surgery on the governor's daughter. No. The Daemons may be influential, but they were nothing compared to his parents when their Momma Bear instincts were roused.

Honestly...to discover that the entire group had drunk the kool-aid and actually stormed the Capitol to support the Orange Cheeto shouldn’t be so surprising.

Well...not everyone.

Virgil frowned, glancing back up to the first part of the tweet before he hit his contacts, scrolling through them to find Janus’s name only to hesitate over pressing the call button.

He hadn’t spoken to Dee in a year. Not since that fiasco. Not since his so called friend had taken his parent's side and cut off all contact, purposely burning the bridges of their friendship with sneers, glares...and well---

Virgil exhaled, closing his eyes.

Could a Demon change their stripes? Could Janus...could he---

Sure...it appeared he was finally rebelling against his parents...but he had no idea what Dee thought of him---Virgil gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter. “I made a promise.” He whispered, slowly opening his eyes.

Still. Maybe not a good idea to call. Janus had probably blocked his number anyways---

He swiped out of his contacts, switching to his barely used Facebook Messenger where he picked out Janus’s name from there, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Dee probably still wanted nothing to do with him.

He swiped a single word...once again hesitating over sending it.

They hadn’t talked in a year.

This could go so wrong.

And yet--

He hit send.

Virgil: Blanket?

He bit his lip, barely breathing as he stared at the little check mark symbol showing that Dee’s account had at least received the message.

Not that he really expected a response. It was Facebook after all. But Janus had just turned his family in. Did he have a place to stay? Had he been fed? Just how bad had it been for him to be locked in an unfinished attic over the summer by the people who supposedly loved him? Who had proclaimed they wanted to protect him. If---

His heart skipped a beat as the checkmark switched to Janus’s profile picture.

Dee had seen the message.

He stopped breathing as the three typing dots appeared.

Janus: Seriously?

“Ha.” Virgil relaxed, running shaking fingers through his hair. Not a totally unexpected response after everything. But far better than the hate filled rant he’d half expected to get. That had to be a good sign right? He had come up with that particular coded phrase as a way to judge his friend’s needs when Dee had pulled him into the hollow of an old oak tree on his way to the bus the day after his fateful encounter with the Super Karens on the playground with tears shining in his eyes.

Janus hadn’t wanted to return home that day because his parents had been so mad at him for playing with Virgil. He hadn’t understood why having only a Dad was bad--

He hadn’t been as understanding when Virgil ended up with two.

Virgil rolled off the bed, stuffing his feet into his shoes as he sent a one word answer back.

Virgil: Yes.

No typing dots appeared even though he could see that Dee had seen his response.

Unsurprising. Dee was probably wondering if this was some sort of trick, if there was a catch. Why would Virgil of all people contact him out of the blue after how he’d treated him?

He pulled his hoodie over his head, swiping his keys and face mask from his desk as he took a chance and pressed call, holding his phone up to his ear, listening to it ring as he left his room and moved downstairs.

A click sounded in his ear right before the voicemail could activate.

Janus had picked up, Virgil could hear the faint sound of sirens in the background, the shaky barely controlled breathing.

He wasn’t saying anything though.

That was fine. Not normal for Dee, who always liked to have the first and last word but Virgil could work with this.

“Offer still stands, Dee.” He said, keeping his voice low as he moved past Dad and Remus’s darkened bedroom, heading to the front door. “I’ve told you a million times that if you don’t know where to go you can always come here. You acting like the world’s biggest dick doesn’t change that.”

Janus may have thrown their friendship out of the figurative door...but Virgil--well he...hadn’t. Not really. He had been hoping Dee would come around--not like this...but if this could get his best friend back---

“You can’t mean that, Annie.” The voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Not after--”

“Dude.” Virgil tsked, scribbling a quick note to his parents because Dad would hear the car start up and be up like a shot once he realized Virgil was leaving after hours. “You just posted that you were locked up in your attic by your so-called parents.” He pulled open the front door, quickly slipping out before he jangled his car keys by the phone. “Unless you say Nest right now, I’m coming to get you and dragging you back. So. Blan--” He looked up and froze, staring at the shadowy figure hovering just outside the gate. ”-ket?”

Janus huffed in his ear, the figure at the gate shifting to grab onto one arm, rubbing it as they shuffled back a step.

Dee did that whenever he was nervous. Whenever he was afraid he was making the wrong choice.

He hadn’t spoken to Virgil in a year.

Yet he was already here.

Virgil was off the porch and jumping over the gate in a flash, grabbing onto Janus before his friend could change his mind and bolt. “Dee.”

Janus flinched, slowly lowering the phone, a crumpled face mask hanging from one ear, ragged hair half covering a deep purple bruise and three long scratches by his left eye as he ducked his head. “If...I said...Fort?’ He whispered, shoulders hunching as if expecting a physical blow.

Blanket Fort. A need for Protection. For Safety.

Virgil growled, tugging his friend into his arms, holding him tight, heart throbbing as Dee practically melted into him like a shaking leaf, breath hitching as his fingers dug into Virgil’s hoodie.

How long had it been since anyone had treated Dee with any compassion? Four months locked up in an attic. His family halfway across the country committing treason. Had they even left him any food when they left? Probably not from how bony Dee felt now in his arms.

“Janus.” Virgil said softly, holding him tighter as his friend shuddered in his arms, running careful fingers through his greasy hair. “I told you. You can always stay here.”

Part 2

[justaleksey]

Caution, a long Ender Lilies and Hollow Knight rant ahead with a lot of spoilers! Proceed at your own risk

I have some of EL music stuck in my head and I'm thinking about HK characters so here you go: some of area/background music from Ender Lilies applied to Hollow Knight!

1. Hornet + Awakening/Harmonious/North

Hornet is a tragic character with a traumatizing story. Sometimes the past of her kingdom, the suffering of her people, her own actions and duties weigh on her too much, the same as Awakening. This song shows us the sheer pain, the darkness, the tragedy. I feel like @/dooblebugs 's portrayal of Hornet is really focused on her grief and pain, and that song would play in her mind 24/7.

Harmonious displays the sadness she feels, the loneliness she might feel, being by herself almost all the time, but that grief is kind of a bit more lighthearted than the one in Awakening. There's a tiny glimmer of hope now, it's still sad, but the sadness doesn't consume her. Maybe she doesn't move on (if it's even possibly to move on from that), but she starts to accept the fact that grief isn't all she has.

Hornet's character is not all about suffering and pain. I believe she still has the ability to laugh, to feel joy, to hope, even after everything that's happened. Harmonious is like a hint to that trait of her, but North is when it starts to awaken. Maybe the second part of that track doesn't suit her that much (maybe when she gets like super-emotional and shares her feelings about future or something), but we see that part of her sometimes. She laughs during our battle with her, she shows that she still hopes for the better, maybe she tries communicating with survivors in Dirtmouth. I really like seeing that in her, so for me Harmonious and North suit a more close to canon version of Hornet and @/arty-cakes 's version. The one that is still hurt and traumatized, but starts healing.

2. Pale King + A Nocturne for All

A Nocturne for All is probably my favourite song in the OST, and PK is probably my favourite character in the game lore. I really don't see him as a villain in that story. He is a higher being which decided to settle down, to give creatures the divine gift of mind. He may not be the greatest, but he has my respect for his decision to bring himself closer to the ones he wished to enlighten, as it could be, I suppose, a very meaningful sacrifice. But then the Infection came. The King of Hallownest does terrible things in order to protect his people, his kingdom, his legacy. And in his last moments he probably has already realised that his actions, his sacrifices were worthless. In the end, he didn't save anyone, not even himself. A Nocturne for All is filled with his endless grief. It is a lament of all of his worshippers, all of his doings, all of his children.

Also I can't not notice the similarities between him and Faden, the one the song plays for. Both lost something dear to them, both tried to fix it with science, both failed to prevent the inevitable, both created something horrible in an attempt to do so, both only worsened the circumstances with their actions, even if they had good intentions. Just look at Faden in this scene:

That is the exact pose I imagine PK standing in at least at some point.

3. Quirrel + The Witch's Breath

Before Quirrel learns about Monomon, his past and his connection to Hallownest, he's all about exploring and finding and learning. He's amazed, he's mesmerised by the beauty of this dead yet admirable kingdom.

"Tragedy erased... I see only wonders..."

The same thing with The Witch's Breath. It's like Greenpath/Queen's Gardens/Fog Canyon theme, but much more magical. And it also tells us that this place, despite being devoid of sentient life is insanely beautiful, full of mysteries, rich with nature. Fit for explores like Quirrel.

4. Ghost + Prologue/Main Theme/The White Witch

Do I even need to explain? The main character, Ghost, enters the dead kingdom in Prologue, thinking, they are the Hollow Knight, the one and only, the Chosen One (or, at least, the Player thinks so). They are a bit lost, but they are ready to jump in an important adventure ahead of them. And then, of course, we get some more variations of the main theme, the everlasting leitmotif. However...

5. Hollow + Lily

I think it just fits the vibe here. The Main Menu in both games kind of plays the True Main Theme of the Game, and similarly, we find out later on that the one who this theme belongs to really was all along the Chosen One, they were imprisoned a long time ago and now we have to search the dead kingdom in order to replace them.

In conclusion, I know that EL and HK are very similar to each other, but their music is different, their imagery is different, and I kinda liked to apply one thing to another in a way.

All of this is just my opinions, theories and headcanons, you don't have to agree with me, but if you've read the whole thing and maybe discovered/opened something new for yourself, it's great!

P.S.:

@fire-bay @rukafais @skelement Thought you guys might like it

[khunfounded]

Got Me In Check

[This was done for the wonderful @tower-of-chess collab!]

It was the late afternoon, sunshine pouring in through the dorm’s cloudy windows, and Khun was pretending to pay attention to his online probabilistic graphic models lecture while actually watching BEST 2 HOUR LONG FUNNY CAT COMPILATION  in another browser. It didn’t matter anyways, he was already ahead in all of his work, and he could answer the professor’s questions without even paying attention.

Cats were a much more important endeavor anyways.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and his roommate, Bam, came racing towards him. His golden eyes were filled with desperation, and he was panting as if he had just run a marathon. It was unfair how Bam could pull off the hot and sweaty look (with emphasis on the hot) whilst Khun was stuck with frizzy hair and blotchy cheeks anytime he went sprinting across campus.

“Khun, I’m in trouble!” Bam wailed, hands gripping the armrests of his roommate’s chair, “I need your help”.

Khun’s eyes widened with concern, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? What can I do?”

If this was another Rachel problem, Khun swore to god he was actually going to stab her this time. He couldn’t put up with how easily she manipulated his friend, leading him around by the ear. Bam insisted that she was a good person, but her actions showed the exact opposite. What kind of person constantly gaslit and negged their friends? Khun knew the answer. An absolute asshole, that’s who.

But instead of what he expected, what came out of his friend’s mouth was, “I need you to teach me how to play chess!”

What.

“What?” Khun asked incredulously. 

Bam must have realized how he sounded, because he pulled away and tilted his head down to hide a prominent blush. He bit his lip and mumbled something incoherent.

As adorable as that was, it really wasn’t helping Khun’s confusion, “I didn’t quite catch that”.

Bam looked back up and his face got even more red, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears. He fidgeted with the loose strand of his t-shirt and cleared his throat.

“You know how I’ve been wanting to make more friends?” Bam hedged.

Khun did. Bam was a social butterfly, he needed friends to thrive, but ever since they moved away for college, he had been having trouble making them. Khun’s heart ached whenever he saw Bam looking longingly at groups of people messing around and laughing on the campus green. He and Bam were best friends, and they spent almost all of their free time together, but Khun knew that that wasn’t enough. He had no idea why Bam wasn’t surrounded by people at all times, honestly. His natural charisma could fell even the most stoic man. Though maybe he was a little biased.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“And you know how you suggested that I join some clubs to meet people?” Bam didn’t stop to let him answer, voice going a mile a minute like it did whenever he was emotional, “Well I met a really cool group of people, and their club president invited me to join and I said yes”.

Khun could guess where this was going.

“But?”

Bam covered his face with his hands and groaned before answering, “I said yes without realizing that it was the chess club. I don’t know how to play chess! But I already agreed and I don’t wanna flake out and I really, really want to be friends with them”.

Bam lifted up his head and grabbed Khun’s hands, pulling them to his chest. Khun’s heart rate tripled. That probably wasn’t good. But, hey, he wasn’t a physio major, what would he know?

“I had no idea what to do but then I remembered that I know the smartest person ever, and if anyone would be able to help me it would be him”.

“You’re just saying that to butter me up,” Khun chuckled.

“Please?” Bam pouted, “For me?”

Oh god, how could he say no to that? Curse Bam for knowing that he was Khun’s ultimate weakness. He sighed.

“You’re lucky that I used to play chess with Ran, otherwise you’d be screwed”.

Bam let go of his hands, doing a fist pump in excitement, “Yes! Thank you so much!”

“But next time we go get pho, you’re footing the bill”.

They decided to get started later that evening, borrowing a chess board from the desk assistant and bringing it to their floor’s rec room. Luckily, the only other people there were Wangnan and Quaetro, who were busy trying to murder each other in Mario Kart, and Hwaryun, who was working on her laptop. Khun assumed that she was editing a video for her terrifyingly popular conspiracy theory youtube channel. He and Bam sat on the floor in the corner of the room, far enough away that Quaetro’s evil laughter was a bearable volume.

Khun took out the pieces and placed them on the chess board, explaining each of them as he went. Bam was looking at him intently, eyes full of interest. Khun had to avert his gaze just so he could be able to focus and not turn into an incoherent mess. He fondly reminisced about the days long past when he was able to pull off being aloof and cool. Bam had left his reputation in ruins.

When he got to the Queen, he said, “She can move in any straight direction as far as possible as long as she does not move through any of her own pieces. She is the most powerful piece of the game, so use her wisely”.

“So she’s like Khun!” Bam grinned brightly.

“What do you mean?” Khun asked, rubbing his thumb against the edge of the Black Queen.

Bam reached out and took the White Queen, cradling it in his palm and smiling softly, “You’re the most important, too”.

Khun felt his cheeks heat up. Was this flirting? Was Bam flirting with him? No, of course not, that wouldn’t make any sense. There was no way it could be possible, but how the hell else could he interpret that?

Khun had long accepted the fact that his crush on his best friend was hopeless and would never be reciprocated, but lately things kept happening that made it impossible for him to not get his hopes up. Bam had always been affectionate, but it had increased ten fold in the last few months. When they sat on Khun’s bed (which Bam always claimed was far superior to his own) and binged youtube videos together, Bam would cuddle right up against him like a content cat.

Once, when Bam had had a particularly long day at work, he had walked straight into Khun’s arms and just held him for several minutes, tears of exhaustion seeping into Khun’s shirt. Afterwards, they had sat close together on the dorm room floor and Bam spilled out all his frustration and anxiety, fidgeting with Khun’s hand the whole time.

Sometimes, when they were walking downtown together, Bam would just take Khun’s hand and intertwine their fingers, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He wouldn’t even stop his excited rambling, just continuing on as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened between them, and Khun needed to find out what or he was going to go insane.

And in this moment, he decided that, fuck it, two could play at that game.

“So does that mean you’re my King?” He asked, smiling when Bam’s eyes widened and he ducked his head.

“If you’ll have me,” Bam murmured, biting his lip.

Were they still talking about chess? Khun wasn’t sure.

“How could I say no to that?” He said just as softly, before clearing his throat and picking up the White King, “Anyways, the King can only move one square in any direction, and he can never move himself into check”.

The moment was successfully derailed, but the electric charge of something was still in the air, even as Khun led Bam through some easy strategies.

“Now, you should make sure that you focus on the center four squares of the board,” he guided Bam, “Whoever dominates those dominates the game”.

Bam’s eyebrows scrunched up, and Jesus, why was he so cute? It should be illegal. Put him away for life.

“Okay,” he told Bam, “When you can get into a draw with me, that’s when you’re ready”.

And so began Bam’s week-long training, which he said was more intense than anything he’d ever done at Jinsung’s dojo. It was also much harder on Khun’s side, to hold himself back from absolutely decimating his friend in three moves, which Bam made sure to make fun of him for.

“I think it’s cute!” he said, “You’re trying so hard just to help me”.

“I’m not cute,” he grumbled as he took Bam’s Rook out of spite.

The entire thing was a learning experience for both of them. Bam was learning how to play chess, and Khun was learning that Bam had absolutely terrifying game rage. His eyes practically crackled with electricity and Khun heard him cuss more times in those few days than he had in his entire time of knowing him. Baby Khun would be distraught, but Adult Khun was kind of into it.

“Fuck!” Bam cursed when Khun got him in check, startling the sleeping burrito Laure, and making Khun burst out laughing. Bam stuck his tongue out and flicked Khun’s Queen, toppling her over. 

Khun moved the chess pieces back a few moves, and guided Bam’s hand to moving the Knight in a way that would have trapped him.

“This is where you went wrong,” he said, “Your instinct is good for your dancing, but you need to plan ahead with chess”.

But Bam didn’t seem to be paying attention. In fact, his eyes were glued to where their hands were touching. Khun jolted back when he realized what he had done, but Bam took his hand before he could move away, shifting so he was holding it. Khun died a little, but he was pretty sure he didn’t let it show. Relatively sure. Kind of.

They managed to play with their hands together, but Khun’s brain was mush. That was when Bam finally got a draw. Khun would have protested, but that would mean admitting why he was distracted.

As Bam was cheering and texting Isu that he was coming to the next meeting, Khun put away their pieces, trying not to feel loss. Bam didn’t need him anymore, at least not for this. He had always known it wasn’t permanent, but a part of him had hoped it would last a little longer. Khun bit his lip.

“Hey, Khun?” Bam said, voice still brimming with excitement.

“Yeah?” his voice sounded hollow. Damnit.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come, too? I just thought, you’re really good at it, and I think you’d like everyone there, and I want you to be friends with my friends”.

Khun blinked. He blurted out his answer before he could even think.

“Yeah. Yes, I would love that”.

Bam grinned, face lit up like the sun.

He reached over, hands gently cupping Khun’s face, and brought him in close. So close they were breathing the same air. Bam’s smile turned soft and he nuzzled their noses together before his sunshine eyes flickered down to Khun’s lips.

Oh god, was this happening? It was happening. Oh god. Khun’s brain stuttered and broke down. There was never a time in his short, short life where he thought that this would ever be possible, that Bam would ever think of him in this way. But Khun had always been a selfish person, he wasn’t going to take this gift for granted.

He leaned in, bridging the gap, and then they were kissing over the chess board and it was everything. Bam hummed into it, pecking Khun’s lips once, twice, three times. Khun tugged him in and kissed him for all he was worth, knocking the chess pieces over in the process. After one last kiss, Bam pulled away, giggling.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, Khun!”

[neon-junkie]

The Generals Pet

Summary: One of Kylo’s late-night walks around Starkiller Base leads him to the general’s office, whose aroused more than ever, and will do whatever it takes to get relief.

Pairing: General Hux x Kylo Ren

Word Count: 1892

Rating: NSFW Tags: Blowjobs, Under-desk, Work, Face fucking, Dom!Hux, Sub!Kylo, Starkiller base.

Notes: First time writing Kylo/Hux ayyyy. I love the idea of Hux being the dominant one whilst Kylos a big subby boi. Requests always open!

 It was Kylos fault that they were in this situation.

It was far too late for either of them to be up. Kylo had gone for a walk in the middle of the night, a normal thing for him to do when his thoughts are full, and stopped at Hux's office when he saw the light on. He found Hux inside, his fingers tapping away on his datapad at his desk. He had clearly stayed up to finish some work, probably clearing up the mess of one of his lutenants. 

Kylo had told Hux to go to bed, to which Hux said the same thing back to him. The two then bickered a bit, and Hux then claimed that Kylo only came into his office to get attention from him (which was somewhat true.)

"If you assume I'm after attention then you're clearly mistaken," Kylo replied through the droning noise of his helmet.

"Well, you're getting attention from me now, Ren. Or is this not the attention you want?" Hux replied, his eyes fixed to his datapad, ignoring the brooding man at the door.

"What are you implying?" Kylo asked as he slowly entered the room, stopping in front of Hux's desk. 

"It's the middle of the night. Few people are about, and those who need to be awake are at their stations doing work. You get up and come to my office, coincidentally finding me working here." Hux looks up from under his lashes. "It's almost as if you got out of bed to come and find me. I'm surprised you haven't asked me to play with you yet."

Hux wasn't sure if it was him or his erection talking, but either way, he needed relief. He'd been hard for far too long now, wanting this work over and done with so he could go back to his room and sort himself out. But when he heard that familiar sound of Kylos footsteps approaching his office, he'd decided to toy about with the man yet again.  Hux was going to get his relief as soon as possible, whether that meant using Kylo or not.

"Play with you?" Kylo half-hissed. "I came here wondering why your office light was on, not to come and beg to be fucked."

"I never said you wanted me to fuck you," Hux said as his eyes flicked back down to his work.

"I would never allow such thing," Kylo replied, folding his arms.

"What would you allow then, Ren?" He asked.

Kylo scowled under his helmet, half disgusted, half aroused by the General's words.

"You speak to me as if I am a pet," Kylo replied.

"You allow me to," Hux replied. Kylo was silent, arms still folded. There was a long pause until Hux said "Come," and moved his finger in a beckoning motion, eyes still on his datapad.

Kylo's hesitant at first, but Hux has that aura to him that makes Kylo want to submit, even if he viewed him as an enemy. He relaxes his arms, walking towards the General's desk and stopping right in front of it. That distinct click can be heard as Kylo reaches up and removes his helmet, slamming it down onto Hux's desk.

"I don't want you leaving marks on my desk, Ren. You'll pay for that," Hux tuts with a stern tone to his voice. "Now get on your knees and get under my desk."

For some reason, Kylo follows his orders, slowly getting down onto his knees and crawling under Hux's desk. The Knight blushes slightly as his face is now inches away from Hux's crotch, whose legs were spread slightly open, enough to see the bulging erection pressed against the dark fabric of his uniform.

"Don't be shy, Ren," Hux tells him. He takes no notice of Kylo, continuing to do work, who's reaching up with one hand and begins to rub the General's crotch. His hand slowly but firmly rubs over the bulge, feeling it faintly pulse against his palm. He attempts to wrap his fingers around it, slowly moving his hand up and down, trying to jerk him off through the layers of fabric.

Hux takes no notice of him, even when Kylo reaches up to undo his pants. The only notice Hux gives him is a slight shuffle, moving his crotch towards the edge of the seat, bringing it closer to Kylos face. Kylo pulls open the flap of his pants, revealing his briefs, his cock pressed deliciously against the fabric with a small farm stain of precum near the tip of his cock.  Kylo, without thinking, presses his tongue firmly against Hux's cock, the taste of fabric heavy against his tongue. Hux shudders slightly but continues to do his work. It was then that Kylo decided he wanted to see Hux come undone; if the soft feeling of Kylos mouth pressed against his cock through a layer of fabric could make the General shudder, then surely he could have Hux in a panting, moaning mess by the time he was finished.

 Kylo pulls his gloves off, throwing them to the floor. He dips his head down to press his tongue against the tip of Hux's cock, soaking the thin layer of fabric. One hand comes to rest on Hux's thigh, whilst the other gently fondles his balls, teasing Hux with his soft touches. Kylo can sense the irritation coming from Hux, his touches being nice but not enough.

Kylo finally pulls at the waistband of Hux's boxers, pulling them down so his cock can finally spring free. Hux faintly gasps at the cold air hitting his cock, but manages to keep himself composed. The chill to his cock soon leaves as he begins being warmed up by Kylos bare hand pumping his shaft, his other hand going back to hold the General's thigh.

Kylo leans forward to swirl his tongue around the tip of Hux's cock, earning him another shudder and a very faint sigh. His hand continues to pump the redheads shaft, slowing down slightly to make room for his mouth. Kylos lips finally find their way around Hux's cock, his mouth taking up most of his length, whilst his hand works the base where he can't quite reach.  By now Hux was softly moaning and moving a hand down to rest on the back of Kylos head, his fingers entangling with those dark locks. Hux attempted to do his work with his other hand, though his thoughts were beginning to fog up from the distraction between his legs.

Hux decides to give up on his work when Kylo surprised him by swallowing down his length, the tip of his cock hitting the back of his throat, his nose buried against the short, trimmed, ginger hair. "Good boy," Hux moans, praising him as Kylo pulls his mouth off, gasping softly for air. He looks up at Hux through half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly parted, and his lips damp. Kylo continues to pump the General's shaft, watching him as if he was waiting for orders.

"I didn't tell you to stop, Ren," Hux scolds as he pushes Kylos head back down onto his cock. The grip on Kylos hair becomes almost painfully tight. Kylo does exactly as he's ordered, continuing to bob his head up and down, his hand working in time, cheeks hollowed out and tongue pushed up against the base of Hux's cock. The site alone is enough to make Hux moan louder and buck his hips up slightly, making Kylo gag.

Kylo doesn't stop though, somewhat enjoying the submission, despite despising the person he's allowing himself to submit to. Hux bucks again and Kylo lets out a moan this time, though it's mostly muffled as Hux's cock hits the back of Kylos throat.

"Do you like being used like this?" Hux asks in a hazy voice as he tightens his grip on Kylos hair and pulls him off his cock, allowing Hux to slide his hips further down off his chair so he can move his hips freely. Kylo doesn't reply. He just keeps his gaze on Hux, mouth slightly parted, eyes half-lidded, and cheeks vibrantly red. "I'm sure Snoke would be very disappointed if he saw that one of his Knights had been turned into a submissive pet," Hux says with a chuckle as he reaches down with his other hand, urging Kylos mouth open so he can run two gloved fingers across his tongue. Kylo nods, agreeing with him. "But Snoke's not here right now, so I couldn't care less. Back to work, pet," Hux says, shoving the Knight back down on his cock.

Kylo's building up the pace again, sucking on Hux's cock whilst his hand works the bottom of his shaft. Hux decides to change things slightly as his orgasm began to build up. Hux holds Kylos head in place with a tight grip on his hair as he began to fuck upwards into Kylos mouth, enjoying the way Kylo scrunched his eyes shut but submits himself, allowing Hux to fuck his mouth despite his gagging and the drool running from the corners of his lips. 

Hux's cock is slamming against the back of Kylos throat. His breathing becoming heavier through his nose, both hands gripping tightly onto Hux's thighs but he was managing to take it all. Hux then pulls him off, half to let Kylo breath, half to see what a mess the Knight had become. "You're such a slut," Hux mocks with a laugh as he tugs on Kylos hair, pulling him down on his cock again. Kylo gags but allowed the General to fuck his mouth, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"What a good Knight of Ren. I'm sure the others don't allow their mouthes to get fucked by a General," Hux somewhat growls, looking down at Kylo as he continues pounding into his mouth. "I knew you always liked it rough," Hux smirks. Kylo attempts to nod and hums at the same time. "Oh, you do? Nice of you to confirm that thought, Ren. Now finish me off, I'm close," Hux orders as the tip of his cock hits the back of Kylos throat one last time before pulling him off.

Hux shuffles about in his chair, sitting properly, and waits for Kylo to return to work. Kylo quickly pumps the General's shaft as he regains his breath and once he's ready, he puts his mouth back on the General's cock. There's something deliciously satisfying about watching Kylo work away between his legs, and Hux keeps his eyes fixated on the sight, letting out the occasional moan to motivate Kylo.

"Almost there, my pet. Keep going," Hux orders again. Theres a painful tug to Kylos hair as Hux cums, letting out a sound that makes Kylos cock throb in his pants. Kylo keeps his head still as Hux cums down his throat, eventually pulling off and swallowing his load, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks up at Hux, waiting for another order.

"You did good, Ren," Hux tells him as he rests his hand on Kylos chin, tilting Kylo's head to look at the Knight's messy state. "Remind me to praise you some time."

"Of course, General," Kylo replies, still softly panting.

"That's master now, my pet," Hux replied.

"Of course, Master."

[sandalaris]

SethKate for the 10 sentence meme?

one sentence per genre for a pairing

How can anyone do any of these with just one sentence?! At least I tried.... there’s a lot of run on sentences in this, btw, although after a few I just decided the one sentence rule could shove it and went with keeping each one short, and at least one I said screw it and made it pretty long for a one-sentence story.

1. Angst

A shadow self, that’s what Amaru called them, the ones she twisted and turned and brought forth from the other side, and logically Kate knows he had no choice, knows he did what he had to do to save Richie and her and the world, but logic has no hold in the face of screaming gaping wound in her chest that pulses and weeps grief and guilt when she looks at Seth’s face. It’s a cruel and ugly twist of fate, to still love the man who killed her brother.

A/N: A mild AU I will never write (but have thought about what would happen before) in which Amaru did her shadow-self thing on Scott and Seth is forced to kill him.

2. AU

There’s nothing wrong with the school itself, she decides, even if she does find some of its rules and traditions a bit odd. She wouldn’t even need to be here except Our Lady of Sorrow holds the only duel credit program with both an opening in Statistics and Intro to Psych that was willing to let Kate in given her... unusual circumstances (being homeschooled, a devout Baptist, and technically enrolled at a local public high school - a PE credit apparently requires a bit more than her daddy and the internet can provide - had her sure that even applying was a lost cause). She only has to spend half a day on campus and only one of her classes is even near the annex building so she hardly sees Seth (she refuses to call him “Mr. Gecko” on principle. She’s only somewhat a student here, and he is certainly not her teacher, even if he is a teacher.. she thinks).

She’s counting the weeks until the semester ends.

A/N: I would love to read this as a full fic... just not sure I want to write it, lol. 

3. Crack

No. Nuh-uh. No way. Seth is not some pansy assed prince charming setting out on a quest or one of those glory seeking wannabe knights who graduate from the Fairytale Training Academy, and he’s certainly never wanted to be anyone’s goddamn hero, so little miss damsel in distress, who’s probably some secret lost princess because Seth’s read this tale before and he hated it the first time around, can save her sob story for some other guy because he is absolutely not-

“Please.”

...fuck.

A/N: A reluctant Seth who is entirely too aware of fairy tale tropes and trying everything he can not to be in a one? Way more amusing than it should be to me.

4. Future fic

Seth eyes the group of sparkly wrapped boxes sitting on the counter with distrust, part of him already counting their numbers and trying to figure out how many have his name on them. After last year, when Seth managed to sneak a peek at every single last gift and “ruined the surprise,” Kate had managed to hide every Christmas present so well he’d begun to wonder if she’d decided he didn’t get any this year.

He reaches for a small, shiny box, the tag just peeking out from the curly bow and revealing a “th” in a familiar loopy penmanship, when Kate suddenly hisses behind him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

A/N: “Future” makes me think domestic fic (at least in FDtD), and that’s not an area I’m real familiar with, so *waves hand* this is what you get. :P

5. First Time

Her hands are shaking. Not visibly, but enough to make her fingers feel weak and the gun in her grip far too dangerous.

“You ready?”

She doesn’t know if she’s imagining the doubt in Seth’s voice, regret bleeding through at agreeing for her to play a bigger role, but she nods firmly anyways, tightening her grip and stepping forward.

A/N: Kate’s first heist... although I doubt Seth let her use a gun the first time. Too dangerous in the hands of an amateur. And I’m pretty sure Seth kept Kate’s role as danger-free and background as he could, because she was still fighting so hard to be considered an equal partner at the beginning of S2.

6. Fluff

She’s just managed to settle into the perfect spot when the bed shifts slightly behind her and a familiar hand fumbles sleepily at her arm and over her stomach before finding the hollow dip of her waist. Kate lets out a half-hearted protest, bits of warmth escaping at the blanket slips down and the sheet bunching beneath her as Seth wastes no time tugging her across the mattress, the sound dying into a soft laugh as he tucks her half under him and grumbles wordlessly against her temple without even opening his eyes. She shifts, tugging the corner of the pillow down a bit so its not digging into her neck before letting out a happy sigh. Perfect.

7. Humor (I had a hard time with this one, so I just wrote something random)

Kate makes a noise of frustration, pushing herself from her chair and snapping, “I’m gonna die a virgin. Again!”

“You know,” Richie says with far too much brotherly glee, “if you’re looking for someone to-”

“Shut up, Richard!”

8. Hurt/Comfort (another one where I didn’t exactly want to go full hurt/comfort, so instead I went Hurt? As in injury? Yeah, lets go with that.)

“Ohgodohgodohgod.” She can’t seem to stop the litany of words, repeated phrase cycling through her mind as she presses harder. There’s blood, so much blood, seeping red and too thick through her fingers that she can’t even feel the pain.

She should feel it, she thinks, she did before. Or maybe its better that she can’t, she doesn’t want a repeat of the well.

She takes another step, seeing the door just a few steps away. There are people beyond it, Seth and Richie’s people (Seth’s going to be so pissed, she thinks with a kind of worrying detachment.) It’s a simple goal: get to the door. Everything will be alright if she can just get to the door.

A/N: Kate is totally OK in this. It’s bad, but not as bad as she thinks, and while she doesn’t make it to the door before collapsing, someone comes through really quickly and sees her.

9. Smut  Hand holding?

The leather is soft against his skin, well worn from years of near continuous use and Kate’s dedicated care. He remembers when she first got them, the fancy looking box with its folded tissue paper holding them inside like they were a gift. He had hated them, hated the way they covered Kate’s small, deadly hands, the way Dad expected for her to be grateful, how necessary they were.

He slides his hand up, pad of his thumb brushing over the expensive leather covering her palm before it presses against the soft, vulnerable skin of her inner wrist, and he swears for a moment her can feel the nervous flutter of her pulse before he curls his fingers to lock around her wrist.

She looks at him, an amused quirk of to the edge of her lips as he raises her hand between them and he meets her gaze, not bothering to measure the redness of her eyes as he reaches his free hand up to pinch the fabric just above her pinkie.

“What’re yo-” She cuts off with a choked gasp when he tugs, but doesn’t jerk back. He’s inexplicably proud of her for it.

Her eyes are wide and a little panicked, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she watches him tug at the top of each finger, loosening the well-fitting glove until it sits loose on her small hand.

He takes in a shaky breath, feeling unaccountably nervous as he grips the empty tip of the glove’s middle finger, like he’s removing far more than just a simple bit of leather. But then again, maybe he is. After all, Kate’s almost never lets any of them see her without her gloves, not willingly.

He pauses at the thought, gaze flicking away from his task to look at Kate. He regrets it almost immediately. He wasn’t going to stop once he started, wasn’t going to give Kate cause to think he held any of the fear she’s convinced he must feel. But maybe she sees the question in his eyes, or feel it in the sure way he holds her wrist because she nods, small and hesitant but there. He pulls the glove the rest of the way off and lets it fall to the floor.

He lets out a breath just as Kate seems to suck one in, her gaze locked on her bare fingers and Seth loosens his grip, fingers already turning so he can run the flat of his palm up her wrist, forearm pressing against forearm as his hand aligns with hers.

He’s grinning, sudden and full of too much smug satisfaction if Kate’s affectionate eye roll is anything to go by, but Seth doesn’t care, already lacing their fingers together so he can hold her hand proper for once.

A/N: This is part of a tUA inspired AU that has no plot and therefore will never be written. But I know exactly what Kate and Seth’s abilities are, which is part of why this is such a thing for Kate here and why Seth feels her fears are unfounded.

10. UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension)

She doesn’t blink, barely seems to be breathing, holding herself so carefully behind her desk, straight backed and fingers laced together as she stares stubbornly up at him. He smiles, slow and measured and knowing, letting his gaze sweep over the cardigan she’s begun buttoning all the way up since he joined her little class, before leaning close, meeting her gaze and dropping his voice low, like a secret between them.

“And what do I get if I get it right?”

A/N: Seth goes back to school to get his GED, Ms. Fuller is not what he was expecting. I actually had a whole scene playing through my head for this, because I like build up, and it was really hard to pick just a small part to put here.

None of these are edited, despite how long it took to post, meaning I have mixed feelings on them, lol. I think I like more of them than I expected to, so yay!

[reliciron]

Eternal Empire After Effects

In addition to that post I made a while back about how your characters deal with either the boost in Force sensitivity or the brand new sensitivity for your smugglers/troopers/agents/bounty hunters. I want to talk about the general fucked up-ness that the Commander has to deal with post-KotET.

Like DAMN. Bare minimum, they’ve had to deal with carbonite poisoning, the general mind games of Valkorian, and then they had their mind literally broken in the last chapter. At worst, they get all that, plus taking a lightsaber to the gut. To say nothing of having to fight an impossible war for a little over a year straight with everyone’s hopes and dreams riding around on their shoulders.

A lot of the posts I’ve seen about other people’s ocs has some form of lingering effects from everything. And I just want to talk about it for a minute, cause I live for filling in the scenes we don’t see. [Take this with a grain of salt, as I’ve never played a dark side character, so my perspective will be skewed.]

Long term physical effects:

They were poisoned slowly over the course of 5 years, you can’t tell me that one little dart thing can fix that, at least not right away. This could take the form of lingering nausea, migraines, dizziness. The symptoms of heavy metal poisoning would fit well here. And I hc my consular as having some permanent nerve pain from it.

The stab on Asylum is absolute bullshit in the game. Valkorian or no, there’s no way they’d be walking out. I think I posted a pic I took before, but the stab is easily close enough for the heat transfer to damage the spine. Bone cracks and warps with heat, so you can see the problem there. The wound is almost dead on for where the stomach sits and the lungs, liver, kidney, and intestines are all in range to get badly burnt (yeah I know, alien anatomy might be different, but we’re assuming its mostly the same).

We’ve seen what a lightsaber can do to a blast door in The Phantom Menace, take that and apply it to a person, and Arcann held that blade there a loooong time.

Yes, Valkorian saves them, but I think of it more as he kept them from dying, and not, he completely stopped the blade from cooking them from the inside out. So the three days Lana mentioned are horseshit. The Gravestone’s tiny ass med-bay is absolutely not equipped to handle an injury like this.

I always figured a better way was Valkorian kept them alive long enough for Lana to threaten her way onto an appropriate station and made the doctors fix them. Even so, getting what amounts to several organ transplants, implants to bypass possible spinal chord damage, replacement ribs and vertebra, and a whole lot of skin and muscle grafts will leave your Commander pretty messed up, even with magical Star Wars tech and Force magic. And their allotted recovery time seems to be the length of the base’s construction on Odessen, so there’s no way in hell they’re really done healing by the time they have to go back out into battle.

Specific injuries aside, a year is a long time to fight more or less constantly. At least during the base game you sort of had rests between chapters. They’re gonna rack up an impressive list of injuries, alongside wear and tear like their knees and feet having trouble from the constant running and jumping. And their elbows and shoulders will break down from hours upon hours of absorbing the recoil of a gun or the constant flurry and clash of a lightsaber.

Long term mental effects:

As ugly as the physical stuff is, the mental effects are just as bad. Depending on what class they are, having the goddamn Sith Emperor riding shotgun in their head will fuck them up big time.

Classes who faced off with him more-or-less directly, like the Knight, Consular, and Warrior, are going to have the worst time of it because they KNOW what this sort of thing leads to. The warrior has seen the dead eyed puppet on Voss and knows that could be them soon. The consular had to deal with the emperors children and the First Son. They’ve seen a prominent and powerful Jedi master absolutely crumple under the power of the emperor and he wasn’t even IN there. And Knights have already experienced the emperor’s control first hand.

Not to say the others won’t have trouble with it, it’s just that the reasons will be a little less direct. The smuggler and bounty hunter are used to being their own people, not tied down to anything or accountable to anyone, and now there’s the threat that everything they have will be taken from them and there’s no amount of sneaking or shooting that will save them. Troopers built up their command from basically nothing and now they’re Republic heroes, but Valkorian now threatens the lives of everyone they’ve sworn to protect. The agent is easy, they’ve suffered mind control before, they’ve been slaves in their own body, and they’re terrified of it happening again. And inquisitors were literal slaves who clawed their way to the top, and they’d sooner die than be a slave again.

So just having that asshole there means constant stress for the whole of KotFE and KotET. Insomnia must be a given. How do you know you’ll wake up as YOU? That Valkorian won’t hollow you out in your sleep and walk around in your skin the next day? And for the Knight, Agent, and Inquisitor, I’d think panic attacks are probably a thing, even if they don’t let anyone see it.

The stab will definitely cause some trauma. Pretty sure any wound that gruesome would. And if they didn’t have nightmares before, they sure do now and I’m willing to bet that they might shy away from lightsabers for a while, which leaves an interesting dilemma considering they’re in a war with Force-users, and some of them are Force-users themselves.

Fighting a guerrilla war with an absurdly powerful adversary has to be incredibly taxing, especially for classes who’ve never had to command anything. Smugglers and Bounty Hunters are very screwed here, assuming they care about running the Alliance well. And the burden of saving the galaxy is a heavy one. I can definitely see classes who have saved the galaxy multiple times to be getting increasing bitter about always having to be the one to clean up the messes. Why are THEY the ones who always have to suffer? Why isn’t there ever a hero to save THEM when they need it?!

Agents get their own little special bit here with the bullshit that is Vaylin’s conditioning. They know exactly the kind of misery she’s going through, the powerlessness that one single phrase or word causes. I can understand that the writers couldn’t figure out or bother with a whole separate scene of the agent refusing to use the conditioning, cause then they’d have to figure out how to not have Vaylin murder them on the spot. But goddamn we could’ve at least seen them struggle with it! Maybe an extra few lines of them pleading with Vaylin because they desperately don’t want to use her control phrase. Ugh, at least behind the scenes an agent can have a break down about how they’ve become exactly like the intelligence officers who’d decided that they were too much of a liability to go without a leash they could pull. And now they’ve pulled an identical leash on Vaylin.

And then we have their mind being broken. That could be a post in and of itself. Valkorian came within a hair’s breadth of destroying them entirely, and they were so broken that they didn’t even know their own name. And in the space of 10 or so minutes, they scrape themselves together and fight a god. It’s very impressive (and I’ve got my own issues with that fight) but I don’t think you can pull yourself together that fast after being that messed up without some lingering issues.

Chronic insomnia and night terrors, full blown PTSD, panic disorders, severe anxiety; something THAT traumatic will absolutely leave marks.

And after that? They just keep going. Yeah, things calm down, but they’re still at the head of a very powerful faction now (if not ruling Zakuul), there’s no going back after this. And they’ve got a massive restoration project ahead of them as tensions continue to simmer between the Republic and Empire. The more dutiful characters must be near the end of their rope. There’s no rest, just the next fire to put out, and they continue to run themselves into the ground. And the more flighty characters are now forever shackled by the Alliance. There’s no flying off into the sunset for them. No more anonymity as a bounty hunter or smuggler. Their old life is over, whether the wanted it or not. And how can they really relax when there’s this many people looking at them for direction. They’ve become just like those asshole military leaders who they used to mock.

And for just about all of my characters, they hide it. No one can know that they’re falling apart at the seams. Either it’s about personal pride and acting unphased cause they’re just THAT good, or because they’re trying to be the leader the Alliance deserves and don’t want to disappoint or frighten them by showing just how badly they’re coping. Either way there will be a breaking point.

And even after it all comes out in the open, and they (hopefully) get the help they need. It’s never completely over. Chronic pain and fatigue, depression and anxiety, persistent insomnia; these things don’t just disappear, they’re an ongoing struggle that helps color their future actions.

I just… I really like considering things like this because it hits close to home. Seeing them struggle with some of the things I deal with makes them feel more like people. Cause god knows the writers aren’t gonna put this kind of stuff in there.

[grayhouse3]

SJTR is my villain origin story

So I finished Stalking Jack the Ripper.

Originally I told myself that I was going to just stick it out and read the next one (“Oh, it’s about vampires and Dracula. It’s probably more fun. You can forget all about the pain this one inflicted on you"). No. I got 12% of the way through and had to DNF. So here are my messily compiled thoughts on the book, basically expanded from the last post. Honestly, kind of feel free knowing I won’t be writing more about this series. (Also I am adding some TWs down below but don't know if I am doing them right!)

More on the exoticism, weirdness with Audrey Rose's Indian mother, and the British Empire:

In chapter 14, we read, "Dark strands of hair were piled atop my head, my eyes more mysterious somehow with the dark liner, and my lips were the bright crimson of freshly spilled blood … I thought of my mother and the saris she’d brought me to wear from Grandmama’s homeland. I felt just as stunning now as I did then, and the memory warmed me.” I am still trying to figure out why Maniscalco made Audrey Rose mixed race. Why is Audrey Rose’s grandmother from India? Literally, what did it add to the story? Was it nothing more than just a cute lil quirky fun character trait to her? I don’t think I missed any key moments where there were important conversations about race, imperialism, British occupation, etc., mostly because Audrey Rose’s father (a big fancy rich lord) is a white man and because Audrey Rose is white-passing. I can’t recall any moments in the book where she faces the realities/consequences of being a socially mobile POC WOMAN in LONDON IN THE 1880s. Honestly, if someone else can point out a passage I glossed over or explain some nuance I missed I would actually really appreciate it, because this drove me CRAZY.

(Audrey Rose and her brother also go visit a circus in town in chapter 15; of course these events existed purely for England/colonizing countries to exercise and display their power and to exoticize/exploit the communities/cultures that they came into contact with. Audrey Rose sees silks, beads, etc. that remind her of her grandmother’s saris, smells the foods of her family’s “homeland,” etc. Also in the same chapter there’s this great scene where her brother is describing their mother and father’s marriage: “Grandmama told me she’d refused him twenty times just for fun,” Nathaniel replied. “Said he squirmed like a cobra in a basket. That’s how she knew he was in love.” Uhhh … Is that supposed to be romantic?)

On the feminism stuff:

I am too *gestures vaguely* to write much more on this. Yeah, it’s heavy-handed. Yeah, it’s cringey. But at the end of the day, it’s not really that harmful, I guess. Here’s just a fun sampling of some of my favorite lines from the book:A few of my favorite bites from the book:

***“close-minded society” (chapter 21) Okay

***"Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news?” (chapter 15) Bro do you know how the media works

***"But what of her [mother’s] insistence that I could be both strong and beautiful? Surely Father had to be wrong.” (chapter 21) Yes girl you are strong and beautiful!

***"There would be no skirts or bustles to wrangle with anymore. I was through with things confining me” (chapter 22) Ugh down with corsets just another tool of the patriarchy amirite

On the violence against women, weird classism, and stuff about prostitution:

I was bound to be uncomfortable about a lot of this because I have weird feelings about true crime stuff, and this is historical fiction set around the Jack the Ripper murders. It was going to go sour somewhere.

Consistently Audrey Rose wants to be sympathetic, but is unable to connect all the parts of this situation together: she struggles to imagine the women (very real-life victims) beyond their lives of prostitution, poverty, squalor. When she does, we see something like this: "The women he murdered did matter ... They were daughters and wives and mothers and sisters” (chapter 28). Oftentimes she wishes she could continue to cut cadavers open in peace (women in science!) without having to think about how those cadavers came to be on her examination table: “I needed to get away from those women and their tragic lives before my emotions got the better of me” (chapter 25). Perhaps Maniscalco deserves more credit here, and perhaps I’m just being a bitch, because Audrey Rose is a very privileged girl and her actions and thoughts make that clear. It’s just that the conclusions she comes to in the name of feminism, justice, etc. weren’t at all satisfying to me.

Also: OH MY GOD. Oh my god. There is this one moment that is BRANDED AGAINST THE GRAY MATTER OF MY BRAIN FOREVER and I will never forget it. At one point, Audrey Rose and love interest Thomas decide the best thing they can do is go out and—yes—stalk Jack the Ripper. To do this, they know they need to “blend in” with the crowds in East End. So … like … cosplaying as poor people? Audrey Rose manages to find and wear the dress of ONE OF THE MURDER VICTIMS (long story short her medical doctor uncle was in a relationship with this woman and when she died he acquired her worldly possessions). It’s like, so fucked up, I can’t even describe my reaction when I read it. In chapter 25 we read, "The dress was a little too old, a little too ragged, a bit too big. If I were to wear this ghastly dress out, I’d look as if I belonged in the East End, begging for work to feed my addictions … It was absolutely perfect.” Oh my god. And THAT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART. While they’re “stalking Jack the Ripper” on this incredibly stupid mission, the two main characters just … make out in an alley. Like, okay. People are being murdered and you’re wearing a dead woman’s dress and you suspect your father of being guilty, but yeah, that kind of stuff makes us all a little horny. Super relatable. Absolutely no concept of reality or consequences or anything at all.

Another random note on class: I noticed the only time Maniscalco writes in dialects/accents, she’s writing seedy/working-class characters. Not saying this is a problem unique to Maniscalco’s writing by a longshot, but ... something to think on. (I think it’s ingrained in a lot of author’s writing habits/minds at this point.)

Weird stuff about the dad, the brother, and what justice means to Audrey Rose:

I had to add a whole new highlighting color for this stuff!

Any growth Audrey Rose might’ve shown over the course of the novel—anything about how these women mattered, and how they deserved justice as any “highborn” individual might, simply by dint of being humans—goes away when she and Thomas come to the conclusion that the Ripper murders must have been committed by Audrey Rose’s father. She realizes her moral dilemma when she contends with the harsh reality: if her father is the Ripper, can she turn him into the authorities? Audrey Rose worries how that might impact her own moral virtue: "They’d hang Father. Given who he was, they’d make it as public and brutal as possible. Just because blood might stain his hands did not mean I wanted his on mine. No matter if it was right or wrong” (chapter 24). First of all, BITCH. You have to. You have to report this kind of thing. No ifs, ands, or buts. I HAVE to imagine Maniscalco’s intended audience would feel the same? It’s? Serial murder? Second: Audrey Rose, baby, sweetie, honey. This is just a reminder that ACAB. I actually don’t know a whole lot about how the late Victorian criminal justice system functioned, but something tells me her family's public outlook would’ve been less bleak than she imagines here.

Lucky for Audrey Rose, her dad isn’t guilty in the end—but her brother sure is. He’s a mad scientist, using the brutalized bodies and souvenirs of his victims for Frankenstein-style experiments. Ultimately, he wants to reanimate the corpse of his and Audrey Rose’s long-dead mother, and he believes he can achieve this by transplanting fresh organs into ? Her dead and decomposed body? The thing is that, this moral dilemma persists for Audrey Rose—and her dad, too. He pressures her not to bring the little matter of Nathaniel’s issue—you know, his casual murder of a number of local women—to Scotland Yard: “They’ll have your brother hanged,” he said quietly. “Could you honestly watch that happen? As a family, have we not suffered enough?” (chapter 29). Nathaniel electrocutes himself to evade capture by the authorities, and Audrey Rose and her father feel relief. The book ends by confirming that "Lord Edmund covered up Nathaniel’s involvement, I didn’t ask how. One day I’d let everyone know the truth, but the pain was too raw now” (chapter 30).

((Side note: Listen. I knew Nathaniel had something sinister going on from the GET-GO (I’m not trying to be obnoxious) because he basically started some nighttime vigilante group called the Whitechapel Knights of Justice or whatever bullshit, I don’t know. All I know is that my red flags IMMEDIATELY started going off because that sounds exactly like the terrible and awful Crusader cosplay clubs from my (bad) Catholic childhood, where everyone thinks they’re a knight for Good but really they’re the bad guy.))

Overall, kind of ...

I think one of my biggest issues with this ending was … You have already stepped into a realm of fantastical revisionist history here in writing such a fictionalized version of these real-life events. (I know Maniscalco is far from the first to do it.) That means that the rules you are playing by are essentially your own—evidenced by the liberties she points out in her Author’s/Historical note (dates changed for convenience or storytelling purposes, real-life individuals changed for narrative purposes, etc.). So WHY would you not conclude this fantasy retelling of the Jack the Ripper murders by meting out some form of justice? I hear the counterargument: "Well, because we still don’t know the culprit today. This book would ring hollow if it named someone since historians, forensic scientists, etc. still don’t know who committed these crimes." My question: is that really a problem though? This is a work of fiction. Nothing in history happened the way it is written here. Is it crueler to the women who were murdered and who remain spectacles for true crime junkies and authors like this, less satisfying to readers who want some more concrete kind of closure, to not offer that up? I am asking this in earnest here, because I don’t know. Maybe it is insensitive to make up a murderer, to fill in the gaps in order to make sense of the violence that happened. But in my brain it feels almost like a responsibility at this point, since these murders served as the backdrop for the romance between Audrey Rose and Thomas, for the background to Audrey Rose’s empty feminist diatribes, and as inspiration for a book that went on far longer than it needed to. To me it kind of feels like the least an author could do, but I have no clue.

Anyways, I'm just glad I get to put this series to bed. No more.I truly lost sleep over it this weekend. Onto something better, please, for the love of god.

[unholyhelbig]

Hizzie Summertime AU. Beach+smut? And feel free to do whatever you want with that because I trust you completely since you are amazing!!

Read on AO3 | Send me more Legacies Prompts 

Title: Braving the Storm 

Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Lizzie Saltzman 

[a/n: aight’ go easy on me please, I haven’t written smut in over a year and I’m BAD at it] 

The Rain had begun to fall sideways; the type of downpour that stung against raw skin and soaked through every inch of fabric until it felt like the very bones inside of her body was encased in a block of cloudy ice.

Hope Mikaelson had made a lot of terrible choices in her life. When she was fourteen she played spin the bottle on Tommy Hart’s deck and ended up with a drool-coated make-out session that left her until face red and raw. In 9th grade she tried to outdo all the other boys in her gym class by climbing the rock wall without a harness- she was fine, of course, but still ended up with a month’s detention for her stunt.

And right now; as she stood in the center of an impending hurricane, she knew she had made another terrible choice. Because the waves had gotten twice her height and she had stupidly believed that the brawn of the storm wouldn’t touch upon the shore until later. Hope had either last track of time or had horribly misjudged the large rolling clouds that rumbled towards the small beach town.

A hurricane had the clearance to empty an entire tourist-filled boardwalk. People rushed towards grocery stores and panic-bought anything that was there. Bread and water always left the shelves first, and then milk- which Hope never really understood because power didn’t last long with winds like this. Then the snack food would dwindle and so would the alcohol because everyone needed something to do when they were trapped inside of their houses.

Hope had successfully loaded up her surfboard on the roof of an old blue jeep, her hands numb from the cold onslaught of water that rinsed away whatever salt had brined her skin. Another crack of lightning washed across the sky in an intricate pattern before rumbling thunder followed. And her keys- she couldn't find her keys.

The palm trees started to hiss under the pressure thrown at them and Hope pushed falling drops away from her eyes as a beach umbrella, not tied down fully by its owner, folded like a piece of notebook paper barely scribbled on. Her skin felt numb, and so did her mind. There was no way she could get home in this.

She scanned the stretch of novelty shops, their lights all dimmed if not shut off entirely. There was a pizza place that had used slats of wood to cover up the vulnerable glass- and a shop that sold customized air-brush t-shirts. Each and everyone looked desolate and abandoned long ago. The news vans had scared everyone away and Hope suddenly wished they had done the same for her too.

Another gust of wind pressed rain deeper into her skin and a nearby palm tree, already bent under the current, finally snapped with a shattering crack, louder than any thunder had been. She smelt smoke and saw the red and orange sparks as bark sizzled against now-damaged power lines.

Hope doesn’t know if she screamed or not, couldn’t register it against her own fear, or the fact that the waves had gotten up to the docks and were tearing them apart from the threshold. She struggled to find her keys and her own breath against the hollowed wind.

The world blurred and her eyesight became fuzzy, and Hope wasn’t exactly sure if it was because of the storm, or her fear, or the pure way that her heart was pounding- but the taste of rain and the stinging feeling of hot sand against her skin was the last thing she could remember before everything faded to black.

Hope awoke without warning. Her throat was raw and tasted thickly of salt and dirt. She didn’t want to admit that her entire body ached, because that wasn’t in her nature- not in the slightest. But a sharp wave of pain disregarded her entirely.

She blinked away the drowsiness and took in her surroundings; the wind howled like a wronged spirit just past the four walls that she was situated in. There were shelves lined with shirts, and a few bubble wrapped snow globes that were settled with snow. She was strung across a ratty old sofa that smelled like it had been soaked in air freshener and her wet suit was hung across the edge of a bookcase.

Her hands moved against her mostly nude body in a fit of panic and then pain. She was wearing a large t-shirt that stretched past her knees and had a printed hermit crab and obnoxious blue writing that read “Shell Yeah, Beaches”. Thankfully her underwear was spared as well.

Hope scoffed and pulled herself onto her elbows. The rain still roared outside and a pair of foggy storm doors were held shut with a couple of sandbags against the bottom of the panes. Green light shaded everything in the back stock room. Her head was throbbing.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Hope moved her eyes across the room to another door, a wooden one that leads to a large windowed store that she couldn’t distinguish from the rest of them on the boulevard. “You got hit in the head pretty hard, though. I was starting to get worried.”

A girl, a beautiful girl shrouded in the emerald light of the storm stood with a bottle of unopened water. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun and a t-shirt, branded with a fancy crest and the words Myrtle Beach, stood at attention. Her eyes were what stuck with Hope the most, reflecting such raw concern.

“What happened?” Her voice was scratchy and foreign to her ears.

“Well, if I’m reading the situation correctly. You ignored every single warning on television, and by the national guard, and by whatever higher power created the hurricane in the first place by going out to catch some waves.” The girl closed the space between them and uncapped the water before shoving it Hope’s way.

Hope remembered that part just fine. “I lost my car keys.”

“And you got knocked out by an Umbrella. Drink all of that.”

She eyed the water warily but took a few sips before the cold numbed her throat and she lowered the bottle. The stranger seemed to be satisfied enough, she took it back before setting it to the side. Hope moved until she was situated at the end of the sofa.

“Thank you,” Her voice was slight and whispered. “I was being stupid and I could have died and… thank you, it’s not often you meet a kind stranger. Not here.”

She nodded and Hope would like to think that she understood. Would like to think that she would rush out into the storm to save someone she didn’t know too- but some part of her knew that with conditions like this in a city like this, she probably wouldn’t.

“I’m Lizzie,” The girl finally said.

“Hope,”

“Well, Hope, it looks like we might be here for a while. Garden City flooded completely.” She looked around the stock room, taking in the escape routes in case the water decided to rise too far and push against the inside of the store. “I’ve been listening to an old radio but that’s about to go out too.”

Hope let out a small groan and moved her head around. Her neck was stiff and there was a ringing in her right ear. She wondered if she had the imprint of a beach umbrella on the side of her face, and she wondered even more how Lizzie got her out of that wet suit. Her cheeks were suddenly red and eyes dark.

“Wait- did you see me naked?”

Lizzie lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and plopped down on the couch next to Hope. A healthy amount of dust pooled into the air. “You were going to catch your death if you stayed in that thing- and I swear up and down that I didn’t look intentionally.”

Hope chuckled and the sound was soft. “Did you at least like what you saw?”

The near-stranger stopped mumbling through her sentences and drew in a sharp breath. Those deep eyes bore into her own and Hope felt a chill rush through her. She knew how to outlast a hurricane- everyone who lived in this city did. And the lack of alcohol, and in this case, power, sparked something odd into her.

“I mean, did you, I’m not trying to. Isn’t it an intrusion to?” Lizzie took a deep breath to still her words. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Mm,” Hope hummed and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if I got a concussion or not, but this whole knight in shining armor thing is very alluring.”

“Is it?” Lizzie had a bit of an edge to her voice and even in the greyish green light, they grew deeper in color.

Hope found herself leaning closer, over the middle cushion of the sofa. Because this was irrefutably her worst idea yet. For once, someone else had saved her, even if it was from a rainbow-colored beach umbrella. She considered it a win. She also considered the way Lizzie smelled light of lavender and rustic like the rain that had dried against her clothes.

Lizzie closed the distance between the two of them, her fingers soft against the edge of Hope’s chin. She tasted fresh, and her touch was gentle but rushed. Lizzie wicked her other hand through damp hair and bit down against her bottom lip, coaxing a moan from Hope’s chest.

Lizzie’s hand was moving, sliding evenly across her neck before resting close to her collarbone and she moved closer. In one fluid motion, Hope was suddenly being straddled, legs on either side of her as they pushed into the cushions of the couch.

Hope bucked forward under the weight and Lizzie pulled back slightly, “Let’s not get too excited-“She instructed and Hope nodded, feeling a pang at the loss of warmth that now hung between them.

The blonde went back to work, this time moving her lips to the nave of Hope’s neck, biting and nipping lightly at her pulse point as the shorter girl growled in anticipation, leaning her head against the back of the couch. This girl was a tease- a skilled, but strong mannered tease.

She hadn’t noticed the way Lizzie’s hand moved across the contours of her skin, and the hot molten trails that each finger left behind as she neared the edge of her underwear. The fabric was cold and slightly damp from the wet suit, but even Hope could tell that that was nothing more than an excuse.

“God Lizzie, Please-“Hope mumbled, breathy and barely audible.

Her cheeks flushed to a different shade of red, she had never been one to beg. But as Lizzie's touch dropped between her legs she couldn’t help but squirm. Fingers traced evenly against her folds and a jolt of excitement moved through her like blood.

“What was that?” Lizzie snarled.

“I need you,” Hope panted out.

“Need me to what?”

She was starting to get frustrated, wanting to lift her hips, finally getting the sensation that she craved. But the patient look on Lizzie’s face was enough for her to struggle in steadying her breath, her words were still ragged “I need you to fuck me.”

The grin against Lizzie’s lips was animalistic and dark as she smiled into a biting kiss, she expertly pressed into Hope with a flowing motion akin to relief, two fingers working inside of her in a steady tempo that seemed to match up with her increasing heart rate.

Hope whimpered into Lizzie’s mouth, the sensation vibrating through her in the same rush that this morning had; that same edge of danger and content that standing at the edge of the ocean while storm clouds subtly rolled in and black waves towered over her.

“Fuck,” Hope snarled, dragging both of her hands down Lizzie’s back, not caring how the fabric of the shirt felt under her nails. The taller woman increased her tempo, and Hope took to arching her back throat tight with the rhythm of a snare drum. “Please…”

“Please what, Hope?”

She glowered at the woman straddling her; because Lizzie had all the power. Had every inch of it. She was cocky and snide and Hope thought that if they met under other circumstances she wouldn’t be the one pinned down.  “Let me cum”

Lizzie gave her a pointed look and slowed her movements.

“Please,” She repeated, this time softer, with less anger.

Lizzie seemed satisfied enough and worked her fingers harder than she had before, pressing inside of her until Hope felt like she couldn’t quite breathe right, and the stars in her eyes began to circle like a constellation. She pulled herself forward, nose pressed against the side of Lizzie’s neck as she stifled a moan against her hair.

Hope tightened around Lizzie’s fingers and breathed in that same alluring scent of sweet and rain-soaked bliss. She resisted the urge to bit down on something and instead pulled Lizzie closer as she let out a sigh of content, but just as quickly began to ache as the abundance of touch was pulled away.

“That was one hell of an introduction,” Hope panted, swallowing back the taste in her mouth as Lizzie smirked like a wolf. Devious but ever so captivating. Both of her hands were on Hope’s shoulders before she reached to the side and grabbed the half-empty bottle.

“Drink the rest of this,” She commanded and Hope rolled her eyes, “I’m serious, you might have a concussion and-“

Hope shook her head and grasped the collar of Lizzie’s shirt, pulling her close, breath hot on the side of her cheek. “I’m fine.” She rumbled pushing Lizzie away from her gently until the taller woman was laying on her back, despite the musty sofa and the cold rain the poured outside. She ignored the headache and straddled the girl's stomach.

“I think it’s your turn, Lizzie. On one condition.”

Hope traced her fingers against Lizzie’s collarbone, her breath picking up and eyes darting frantically in an attempt to read the misty expression on her face. “And what’s that?”

“I hope you remember how to beg,”  

[demented-dukey]

lol this is urs now

“I don’t think,” Roman says, softly.  “That I’m supposed to love you.”

Remus just smiles and presses their foreheads together.  “When has that ever stopped you before?”

They were the same person, once upon a time.  Romulus, King Creativity, making drawings of electrocuting Thomas’s brother and playing war with the earnestness reserved for little boys who don’t know what death is.  He dashed through the mindscape, trusty lance in hand, enamored with his life and his existence.But that was before the darkness of the world dimmed the corners of Morality’s starry eyes.  It wasn’t his fault, not really.  They all had their jobs to do.  Even later, neither could bring themselves to blame him.

It hadn’t hurt Roman, just a sharp tug and a sudden feeling of coldness, like something was gone.  He staggered to his feet and looked down at the other boy, eyes smudged in purple and hair streaked with white.

He was shaking, jaw clenched so tightly it threatened to crack.

Later, Remus told him it felt a little like being cast from heaven.

“Remus,” one of the broken halves addressed the other.  He hadn’t said his name, but Roman knew it, as surely as he would if it were ink-stamped on his own skin.  The name was pleasantly sour in his mouth, zinging as if trying to counteract the taste of copper.  “Remus, are you okay?”

Remus didn’t move from his huddle, eyes shut tightly.

“Romulus,” he said.  “I’m supposed to be Romulus.”

“So am I.”

Slowly opening, dark, murky green eyes stared out at him.

“Your eyes are red,” Roman’s other half said.  “They look like blood!  Gushing blood!”

He was suddenly up on his feet, chattering excitedly about how pretty blood was, how pretty Roman was.

Roman didn’t realize he had moved until he was crushing the other boy to his chest.  He warmed, just a little.

Remus paused his chatter, wriggling like an earthworm until he could look into those red eyes.

“Roman,” he said.  “My Roman.“  He twisted his lips.  "I don’t think we’re supposed to be apart.”

Roman swallowed down the strange lump in his throat.  “Nor do I.”

Somehow, their fingers intertwined.

When the other sides found them, a while later, they were still holding hands.

Theirs becomes a world of stolen glances, hushed murmurs.  Their hands touch when they trade papers, sparks shivering up spines at each chaste brush.  Remus leans just a little too close when they’re huddled together over scripts, their bangs brushing.  Roman lets himself be drawn closer, yet closer when they’re murmuring over a particular idea, lips a whisper apart.  They’re waltzing on the edge of something dangerous – dizzy and exhilarated with each almost-misstep and twirl.

They’re brothers; that’s undeniable.  Yet, still, that’s not all they are.  They’re two parts of a whole, weaker, lesser without each other.

There’s a rubber band around them, pulling painfully tight whenever they’re apart.  It never breaks, just snaps them back together.  Relief washes over them.  Roman can always breathe a little easier when he hears tuneless whistling, and Remus stops checking anxiously over his shoulders when he can smell oak and pencil led - scritch, scritch, scratching against parchment.

How can they resist, when they’re literally each other’s missing piece?

“Your lips should be red too,” Remus says, rhythmically throwing a half-rotten orange in the air and catching it.  “Then they’d match your eyes.”

“Hm,” Roman says noncommittally, absorbed in sketching the outline of a lance.

“I’d cut them, if you wanted,” Remus continues, tossing and catching, tossing and catching.  “Slice them open with my teeth.  You’d look so pretty.”

Roman’s hand jerks across the paper, slicing in half a picture of what once was.  “You…"  His hand is trembling, and he forces it shut and still.  "That’s a new thought.”

“No, it isn’t."  Remus isn’t looking at him still – tossing, catching, tossing catching.  "Not at all.”

“So you think about my lips a lot then?"  Roman’s voice tries to come out teasing, escaping almost panicked.  This is against the rules, against the unspoken boundaries they’ve been toeing around since the beginning of them.

"Yup!” Remus agrees cheerfully, still toying with that damn orange.  “How pretty and soft they look, how much I could bite them before you started crying, how they’d look stretched around my-”

Roman is across the room and snatching the orange out of the air before Remus can finish his sentence.  He looms above his brother, flushed and shaking.  His fist clenches just a bit too hard, and the fruit splatters open, sticky citrus dripping from his hand.

Remus grins up at him.  “What’d you do that for, brother?”

“Do me a favor,” Roman says, lowly, “and look at me next time you decide to ruin my life.”

Remus shrugs.  “Okay."  He sits up, languidly, eyes locked with Roman’s, and takes Roman’s orange-dripping hand in both of his own.  "How’s this, then?”

Slowly, he brings Roman’s hand to his mouth and licks a stripe up his palm.  Swiping his tongue against the pad of Roman’s thumb, he sucks the finger in, cleaning it.  Never looking away from Roman, he repeats the action on the other four, until Roman’s hand is wet with spit and his face is flushed with something other than anger.

“You’re awful,” Roman says.

Remus smiles, bright.  “I love you too.”

He tastes like citrus, just turned sour.

The rules change.  Hands that only brushed become intertwined tightly.  Eyes that had looked hastily away meet and become heated.  Words and thoughts that had been suppressed become whispered between kisses.

Thomas has some of the most creative ideas he’s ever had.

“You’re my soul mate,” Roman tells him once, between increasingly fevered kisses.

Remus laughs - licks a stripe up his cheek and whispers in his ear.  “We don’t have souls, baby.”

Maybe they don’t.  They aren’t real, after all.  They’re less than a thought – just a collection of sparks and neurons in the mind of a man much more whole than they could ever be.

But here, with his other half deep inside him, flush against him, green eyes staring down, Roman feels complete.

“He didn’t like me at all.” Remus says, softly.  They’re lying beside each other in an open, grassy field, counting shooting stars.  “Am I scary?”

Roman is quiet for a long moment before he responds.  “Everything is,” he says eventually, “before you know it.”

Remus scared him, once upon a time.  Before he knew what the hollowness in his chest was, before he knew that you can’t change how you love, before he knew that Remus would love him back.

Remus’s shoulders relax, just slightly. 

“I must not scare you at all then,” he purrs.  “Since we know each other in the Biblical sense.”

Roman is straddling Remus before his other half can react.  “Well,” Roman says coyly, leaning down.  “I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted.”

They do.

“We’re broken,” Roman says.  It’s not the first time he’s said it, nor will it be the last.

“I could fix us,” Remus offers, half-joking.  “Chop off your arm, put it on my shoulder, and pop in a few stitches.”

It’s almost enough to make Roman laugh.

“No,” he breathes.  “Some parts are better like this.”

He can look at his other half now, hold him in his hands, watch his eyes glow with a new idea or darken with more wicked intentions.  He can talk to him, speak of things only the two of them can understand.  They can venture into the imagination – play knights and soldiers and war, the way they never could when they were together.  Sometimes, it’s nice not to be together.  It means they’re never alone.

Roman probably isn’t meant to love Remus.  He’s loud and crude and obnoxious and hypersexual.  He and Roman pick at each other’s ideas until what they have left is better than what either of them could create.  He’s everything that Roman isn’t.  Everything that he’s missing.  They should hate each other. 

Roman doesn’t think he’s supposed to love Remus.

He does anyway.

~

(the above was submitted by Squidward)

DD: Dear Squidward,

Forgive me for hanging on to your submission for so long before posting it. It brought me so much joy and made my heart ache so sweetly every time I opened my inbox and saw it sitting there. But it’s past time for me to finally post your work and share it with the world.

“I don’t think,” Roman says, softly.  “That I’m supposed to love you.”

Remus just smiles and presses their foreheads together.  “When has that ever stopped you before?”

Oh. Oh fuck. Oh fuck me gently. This was like a fucking punch to the chest every time I read it. How dare you begin a fic so fucking beautifully and heartwrenching. Two lines in and I already knew I would die for this fic.

Later, Remus told him it felt a little like being cast from heaven.

Oh, ow. my heart… I love the subtle biblical references… headcanon accepted…

They’re waltzing on the edge of something dangerous – dizzy and exhilarated with each almost-misstep and twirl.

Your wording is so beautiful, I’m dizzy with it.

Roman’s hand jerks across the paper, slicing in half a picture of what once was.

*sobbing* the imagryyyyy… once again Remus “causes” what once was to be sliced in half…. *flails*

“Do me a favor,” Roman says, lowly, “and look at me next time you decide to ruin my life.”

Fuck. Me. Please. This liiiiiiine.  💚 💚 💚

He tastes like citrus, just turned sour.

*whimpers*

The rules change.  Hands that only brushed become intertwined tightly.  Eyes that had looked hastily away meet and become heated.  Words and thoughts that had been suppressed become whispered between kisses.

Thomas has some of the most creative ideas he’s ever had.

*sobs and whimpers, flailing*

“You’re my soul mate,” Roman tells him once, between increasingly fevered kisses.

Remus laughs - licks a stripe up his cheek and whispers in his ear.  “We don’t have souls, baby.”

That’s it. That’s Roman and Remus in a nutshell. This is so fucking in character it hurts.

“I must not scare you at all then,” he purrs.  “Since we know each other in the Biblical sense.”

Roman is straddling Remus before his other half can react.  “Well,” Roman says coyly, leaning down.  “I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted.”

*rips my hair out, tears my bosom* I love this sooooo muuuuuuch *sobs*

Sometimes, it’s nice not to be together.  It means they’re never alone.

THIS. FUCK. THIS IS WHY I LOVE REMROM. FUCK. THIS IS AMAZING.

They should hate each other.

Roman doesn’t think he’s supposed to love Remus.

He does anyway.

*crying*

I love this fic so much. Thank you for writing and sharing it.

Love, DD

[h3rmitsunited]

Continuing Thoughts on Age of Calamity: I am about 19 hours in at this point and oh man are things going down. Just wanted to record some of my thoughts, theories, reactions, etc... before I get to the last four missions of the story because I’m just thinking about this non-stop and want to share.

Spoilers below the read more, so don’t read if you plan on playing the game. It is a lot more fun to experience in the game than reading it, so just you know, don’t read it.

THE NEW BOTW CHAMPIONS ARE HERE, THE OG CHAMPIONS ARE ALIVE! 

-After the siege of the castle mission that ends with the king's death at the hands of the guardians off screen and the menu music changing to the awesome dark theme and the prompt on the screen saying that Mipha, Daruk, Revali, and Urbosa are trapped in the Divine Beasts, I legitimately cried a little bit. Like I was mostly tearing up because of the bit with Zelda and her father and Link dragging her away, but with the context of BOTW and the Divine Beasts and the Champions having been killed in battle with the Calamity Blights, I was like holy crap, they killed them, they're trapped because they died, but then I started the next chapter and decided to do Urbosa and Revali's first and then it starts and they're both still alive and then we see that Teba and Riju come through and like I lost my shit. I was like WHAT!? IS!? HAPPENING?! I thought that it was a really cool way to get more characters to play as (because this is a Warriors game so the vast array of characters to play as is a selling point) and a cool way to keep the OG Champions from being dead which is depressing. So I got Urbosa and Revali back and then realized what this meant for the other mission, that Mipha would be saved by giant grown Sidon and it was just as cute and sweet as I thought it was going to be. And then them working together on the Divine Beast and teaming up and you can see how much Sidon missed his sister and looks up to her, despite the fact that he is literally ginormous and she is a tiny little thing. It made me tear up. The other champion relationships don't really hit that hard because none of them actually met each other before, but it was pretty funny the bit with Teba and Revali when Revali is once again being an asshole to Link and Teba is just like.... WTF? This is the Rito champion, he's like kind of a di- and Urbosa is like yes, we know. Moving on. Because like damn, they really turned Revali's dick factor way up in this game. Like seriously, bird, can you like chill?

-Anyways, another thing that got me going literally insane was the bit in Hyrule field with Astor and Sooga and Kohga when Astor was like...pulling soul power or something from the Yiga soldiers and like turned it into Hollow Link and when I saw that I was like losing my mind. I don't know why it got me so hyped up, but it did and I'm very excited to battle it out with this dark Link character.

-I just finished the battle at Akkala citadel, which was a pretty cool fight, and going to go into the next battle, something about thunder, so obviously another Divine Beast lead in with Divine Beast support trying to fight off Guardians and monsters and stuff. From the placement, it appears like it'll be near Hateno, and will be involving Urbosa and Vah Nahboris. I don't really care for the Divine Beast levels. They are frustrating to control and the camera movements are annoying and the targeting system just is frustrating. The level with Vah Rudania fighting off the guardians was so annoying, just trying to target the guardians and move around and then I just kept getting stuck on the walls and stuff and the movements are so slow, and it was just like, I don't really care for this at all, thanks... I much prefer the on the ground, quick fighting. Obviously, Link is the most intuitive and easiest to use, he's the highest level, and he's the main fighting character, so he's my favorite to use. I really want to unlock the Hyrule Warriors armor set, so I'm going to have to do a ton of quests and stuff which is a lot, but it will make me keep playing the game for a while, which is good since the game cost sixty dollars. It's fun to play though, so I feel like it's worth it. -Regarding the timeline pieces, I'm really conflicted about the backstory elements that we're getting, and I realize that the moment the eggo was introduced, it set this timeline off into a completely different direction, but it brings up questions for me about the original timeline. We don't really know exactly when the Hyrule Warriors timeline starts out and how far from the Calamity attack it was in the past. I would assume that it wasn't too far in the past, most like like less than a year, maybe less than six months? It's difficult to tell because we don't get a whole lot of context. We are given the information that in this game, the Calamity attack on the castle happens at the same time as in the original timeline, on Zelda's 17th birthday, maybe a little sooner, since in the OG, she's coming down from Lanayru with Link and in this one, I think she's leaving the castle to go to Lanayru when the attack happens. But when did everything else happen? How long has Link had the Master sword and been the chosen knight? He's been following Zelda in this timeline since eggo was introduced, but he was still "just a knight" at that point, even if he was a really good and talented one. But wouldn't that mean that he activates his power in Korok forest like barely anytime before the Calamity attack? I mean I guess in the OG timeline, we can kind of get hints that Link hasn't been chosen for a super long time, since Zelda questions him about how confident he is with the Master Sword and can he hear the voice, and is a bit more antagonistic with him, so he probably hadn't been doing that for a super long time either, but it does feel like he's had it longer in the OG timeline memories compared to here when he gets the Master sword and then like two missions later Ganon is popping up at the castle. I mean, it wouldn't make sense really to drag things out a super long time, so I understand that having a bunch of extra cut scenes and missions that aren't super plot relevant would be kind of weird, especially with this Astor dude's involvement, he would want to push things along. But the Ganon attack still happens the same time as the OG timeline, so all of these things happen within the same amount of time. I don't remember in the OG timeline if we ever got any details about how Link awakened his power. I do like how they did it in this version, how it was like a parallel to how Zelda awakened her power protecting Link, which gave me all the Zelink feels, but I just want canon backstory for the OG timeline, you know? We know that this timeline isn't canon for the OG timeline because of eggo being involved, so we can only really pull character elements from this timeline rather than specific plot elements. I also wondered about Impa since she is there kind of escorting Zelda in most of the missions, but was only in BOTW as an old lady, which is fine because they likely hadn't have developed that into the story at that point, but I also think maybe since Link in AOC hasn't become the chosen knight until later, he wasn't seen as capable or trustworthy enough to be her sole escort knight and wanted to keep Impa around for additional protection or something. I don't know, doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but whatever. I'm also trying to remember... when did the Champions get their champion clothes? Does Link have the blue tunic on in all the memories? I'm pretty sure that one of the first memories is that depressing one where Zelda is like knighting Link or something in the gazebo thing in front of the castle, but I can't remember the order... It's just all so confusing and I'm sure I'm deeply overthinking everything and that they're kind of just like retconning elements, but like what does it all mean? I mean maybe... maybe... since Zelda remembers the eggo in her like baby dream memory in that one cut scene, maybe that means eggo was also sent way back in time to the beginning of her life, so this timeline is deeply changed from the beginning of her life, so while the initial difference weren't super evident, just some small things, once they got to later in the timeline and all the Master sword/Champion stuff, it really just like threw everything in the air. I don't know why it bothers me so much, I think it's just me Zelink heart wanting Link and Zelda to have more time together when it's not just crazy monster fighting sad Zelda all the time like in the AOC cutscenes. In BOTW, we get these soft little memories of Zelda and Link researching in the field and riding horses and stuff and like yes the ever present concern about Zelda's power and Ganon is there in the memories still, but it feels more intimate and slow and down to earth. I think it's also because in several of the memories, it's just them two, and in AOC, there hasn't really been any memories with just the two of them together, so it has a different feel to it. I liked in BOTW, the stories in Zelda's diary about talking to Link about his destiny and why he doesn't talk and how he feels the weight of this title and it keeps him silent and it gave Link this interesting depth and emotion that you couldn't really see without that, and then in the AOC, there are some little moments where you see Link having a scrap of emotion, tiny smiles he gives to Zelda, serious face, confused, happy to eat stuff, but most of his moments are the little grunts and blank stares that he gives. Like seriously? Zelda's father just died, she feels like it's all her fault and Link's response is a tiny smile and a "huh". Like yes, there are dynamics with them, she's a princess, he's a knight, he's protective of her and doesn't push her boundaries or whatever, but like just hug please. I loved that memory in the forest in BOTW where she just collapses into his chest and he holds her and we see this pained expression on his face and it's like yes please give me more not lobotomized Link. Like I know this sounds like complaining, because it is, and like I do understand they want Link to kind of be this blank slate, character insert type of character, but give him something please! 

-I'm hoping we get some good content in these last few mission cut scenes. I'm getting down to the last few missions, only four left, and looking at the chapter titles, which is the only spoilers that I have allowed myself, I'm like, okay, what is going to happen next. And like I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that we win and the bad BOTW timeline ending is subverted and Ganon has to go night night, but like who knows, maybe they'll surprise me, but probably not. This is supposed to be a game that you keep playing after you finish the main story, so like killing off a bunch of playable characters and having it end in destruction would be probably not so smart...

-Okay, that's all my current thoughts. I'll be playing more tonight and we'll see if I finish the story tonight, or maybe I'll have to stop myself and take a breather before blasting through the remaining missions. I finished I think three missions(?) last night, and I had a break for dinner, but like I don't work tomorrow, so like, I could probably blast through the last ones, but I'd also still need to do some additional quest stuff in between for level up purposes since I just go through rupees like crazy. Oh my gosh, that reminds me... it is so dang annoying when you get one of those like quest find item marker things that lights up when you have all the items and you're like sweet I'll complete this and as you're pressing the button, out of habit, without super paying attention, you realize it's going to cost like 2,000 rupees or something and it's like... not again! I can't tell you how many times I have done this and it's so annoying. Like warn me if I have to pay rupees, I don't want to use my brain, game! Lol yes, it's my fault, I'm not really mad.

-Okay, the end. For now. TLDR: This game is fun and unexpected, but it is also not BOTW, so don't go into this expecting BOTW mechanics or gameplay. But hey, smashing through tons of enemies is also kind of satisfying too. Also, like the new enemies are wild. Elemental Moblins, Hinoxs, Lynels, Guardians(!), the use of the Elemental weapons is a cool mechanic, and it's cool having some cinematic fight moments, even if it might get repetitive after playing the game for a while, but you also can use a ton of different characters, so there's variety there, I just have yet to leave my boy because he's the easiest to blast through anything and everything, though Impa is pretty cool too, even if most of my moves with her are random button smashes since I don't really have a good grip on how her moves work. At least with Link it's pretty obvious and I've gotten better about actually having some sort of strategy with how he works, the other characters I haven't played enough to have any sort of knowledge on how they work. Also Zelda's moves are not fun to play at all, sorry, but they're just annoying and useless. Also Daruk is bad at fighting Hinoxes. Okay, now, the end.

[c-atm]

Fighting Flirty: 

Character Select PT4 (Act3.2)

  “Oh, Wanda. You're here."

Alex and Wanda turned to the hybrid, still in his incompleted Shinji Ikari cosplay. The upper armor  in his right hand held over his shoulder like a backpack. 

"Yes, I was able to finish my business; I am at your disposal." The wardrobe stylist tipped her witches hat as she bowed from her waist. She gave him a once over smirking. "Teenage angst looks good on you."

Alex scoffed out a laugh at the cheeky joke and the surprising look on Steven's face.

"You know you're the second one who said that today, or on the same lines of that anyway."He sighed a bit of a blush on his face. He turned to Alex spreading his arms out. "Well?"

Alex waved her hand. "I'm sorry, I hate that character. My answer's completely biased." 

"I'm asking you though and if it's bias, I know it's not me but character. Not gonna get offended, promised."

Alex side-eyed Steven, her mouth left corner turned up slightly disbelieving his words. Last thing she wants to do is insult a customer in front of her boss, but she didn't want to disappoint said customer.

"'I've already been told I make depressing sexy, and teen angst look good. Don't think there's you could confuse me more with an underhand compliment."

"You wear uselessness well."

Steven only started at the quick and blunt reply, ignoring Wanda's giggling behind him. 

"You know.." He chuckled. "I agree with you on him being useless."

"But you wear him well...Seriously, that costume fits you like a glove." Alex stated as she looked him over. 

“Taking pride in your work, Alex?” 

Alex gave her boss a grin. “Not my work, Boss. This is a labor of love,”She pressed her index to her lip turning the grin to Steven. “or should I say friendship?”

“I see..” Wanda jested. “Well, it makes sense to know what would look good on your partner.”

“Really? Isn’t it bad business to tease your customers?” The hybrid retorted with a half- hearted pout.

“Yeah, but who else’s gonna give you top of the line costumes like us.”Alex half smirked as she moved close to his ear “Isn't it bad practice to consummate in a public dressing room?”

Steven's face burned with embarrassment as he turned towards the receptionist. He took a look at Wanda who wore a knowing grin. 

“It’s not like we have any written rules against such acts and you did rent out the studio, so you’re not bothering anyone.” The stylist assured patting his shoulder.”Just be mindful that our rooms aren’t sound proof and please respect the merchandise.”

He rubbed his eyes, sighing as he did. “It’s not what you think.I swear.” He lazily held his right hand as if he was being sworn in. “All I did was fulfill a promise.”

The two women looked at one another for a quick glance.

“We won’t pry.” They said simultaneously before Alex moved from him a small smile on her face.

“I appreciate that, really. Also I apologize if we caused you-”

“Save those for when you really offended this place.” Wanda interjected. “ I told you to have fun and it sounds like you are,so no harm no foul; as far as i’m concerned.”

“Yeah, ok.” Steven nodded, not pushing the issue further. “So with that out of the way,” with a smirk he held the armor up “can I get some assistance with this?”

“Ah,  let me guess, thought it was a slip on, huh?” Alex joked as she took the ABS accessory and reached inside unclipping the latches in the right, opening it up not unlike a book revealing it’s black hollow inside. “There you go, slip it on to your shoulder and have Connie just close the latch to secure it..”

“Actually Connie’s freshening up, so maybe you can help, Alex? Also,” he turned to Wanda “you wouldn’t have those costumes ready, would you?”

Wanda scoffed at the question. “Of course I have them ready.” She grinned cockily. “What do you take me for, huh? That’s an insult, apologize.” 

Alex slipped the armor up his left shoulder, shaking her head as she did. “You better Steven, Boss here does not take underestimation well.” 

“Reminds me of a certain someone. “ Steven chuckled in response to Alex’s teasing. Holding his neck up and right arm out as Alex lined up the armor .“I’m sorry Ms. Wanda,I meant no insult.”

Wanad rolled her eyes at his overdramatic voice. “Yeah yeah,” she gave him a side smirk “ watch when I roll the costumes out and we get you ‘friend’ in hers. You’re really going to be singing my praises..” She folded her arms under her chest, her eyes burning in challenge. 

“I can’t wait.” Steven said excitedly as Alex closed the latch, securing it on his chest.

“So, how ya feeling? Not too tight or anything?” Alex asked

Steven moved the top half of his torso getting a feel of the complete costume.” It’s not bad, it’s huggy..but not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

“Go to the display stage, so you can see the whole picture.”

“Alex,” Wanda sighed “it's not a display stage.”

“Revolving stage with multiple full body mirrors along the perimeter of said stage, that sounds very ‘display’, Boss.” The younger girl argued.

“It kinda does.” Steven agreed.

“It's the main stage, and I won't accept any other name for it, understood?" 

Her gentle smile didn't match her steel eyes, nonetheless the two nodded in agreement, if a bit out of fear. Regardless, Wanda nodded, pleased at her victory.

"Alex please go to the back and get those four special orders and bring them to their dressing rooms."

"Aye, aye capi'tan." Alex saluted playfully before leaving the two.

"So should we get you to the main stage?" 

Steven shook his head. "Not yet, still gotta get a couple of outfits for me and my...compliment."

"Your compliment…" Wanda snickered. " Now that's an interesting pet name."

Steven shrugged before walking along the costume aisles, observing the costumes, pausing every few seconds.. "I guess...It's not like we're actually exclusive or even in an official relationship."

"Are you trying to change that?"

Steven didn't say anything as he lifted up a couple of costumes from a popular JRPG that they played a few years back. 

"I'm not or at least not forcing the change."

"But you wouldn't mind if it changed?"

"Wouldn't matter much."

Wanda watched him as he continued his search. Watching as his eyes lingered on a particular  piece.

It was a white leotard with an elegant detachable PVC fauld around the waist that reached the ankles. The upper bust, back and neck had a cross-stitch design, the shoulders were a bit puffed and resembled guards and the sleeves resembled long point gloves. It was accessorized with a PVC broadsword, a wildflower crown connected to a transparent veil, two garter leather belts, and a beautiful plastic bouquet.

"This is quite the wedding cosplay." 

Wanda noticed the adoringly tone in his voice. "Why thank you, it's an original piece. Went for a knightly bride aesthetic."

"You nailed it very well, it looks like something a strong maiden would wear. Especially like the lion faced pellets on the fauld."

"If only I had a model, I could probably make it a bestseller."

Steven looked at the stylist from his left peripheral, her tone was suggestive. 

"It's not like you weren't imagining her in it as well." 

Steven sighed. "Maybe I was." He scratched the back of his head a slight blush. "Though, she wouldn't be comfortable being in the center of attention."

"She wouldn't be alone though. I do have a groom outfit to go with it."

Steven narrowed his sight at Wanda. "You planned this?"

"You gave me weeks in advance. I took my shot and made preparations." The stylist shrugged, a lofty smirk on her face. "You can say no..but I'm willing to remove the cost of your visit, if you two did model my creations."

Steven's eyebrows rose in consideration. "We'll still have to pay for the costumes though?"

"We gotta make some money, but If you model the bride and groom, they're yours."

"Sheesh, sounds like you made these for us."

Wanad turned her head away and raised her hand to halt him. "I admit, the measurements were altered to fit you two, but I had no certainty when it came to having you wear it.." She looked at him, her eyes far-reaching. "Not until I met you two in the park." 

Steven watched her grin at him, her eyes both admirable and a bit amused.

"You two are quite taken with each other and you show your affection easily.”

“Never really gave notice to that,” Steven answered with a smile. “it’s become a natural form of communication for us.”

“Can I ask, how long have you known each other?”

“You’re quite curious.”

“Investigative.” Wanada corrected, seriously. “As a stylist, I feel knowing my subjects  helps me dress them better.”

“Is that why you were so grabby on Connie?”

She chuckled at the slight bass in his voice. “Now mr. Universe, I assure you it really was just a routine check. No need to be jealous over your best friend.”The stylist grinned. “I would never get in between a couple of eternal honeymooners.”

Steven snickered.“Eternal honeymooners huh?.You should meet Ruby and Sapphire.” He sighed, scratching his head. “Seven years.” 

“Preteen friends and you're still together.” Wanda crossed her arms impressed. “Most would’ve grown apart after the first few years.”

“Not many lived our adolescent or teenage years.” Steven retorted with a smile. “I’d wouldn't be who I am without her.”

“Hard childhood?”

“Yeah...Very much so. We’ve gone through things together. Things most people would have ran from.”

“She didn’t.”

Steven laughedt. “Nope, she decided to face it all with me, my little berry knight. Help carried my burdens, protected me from danger, guided me when I was lost, saved my life multiple times.” 

Wanda could only watch as his smile grew. “She’s really amazing, huh?”

Steven nodded. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have her, and that is not flowery talk.”

"You love her, don't you."

"Not exactly hiding the fact, now am I?"

Wanda eyes widen at the conviction in his voice. “I believe you…Though it's hard to think of you two as 'just' best-friends. Not after all that."

Steven shrugged, looking smug. "You're not the first who said that, but that's the base of our relationship."

"Meaning you're something else."

"Of course." Steven stated with a snicker, before he took the bride and tossed it over his shoulder leaving Wanada even more curious as he made his way to the dressing rooms. 

When he walked in closing the door behind him, he was greeted with the sight of Connie sitting on the bench next to her Asuka costume legs crossed, hands next to her hips. She was looking annoyed while  tapping on his phone.

[warofshadowstheorder]

Chapter 28

Tadeas led Bledsoe away from the seating area toward the refreshments.  There was a bit of a line by the time they got there, but neither of them minded.  The two of them were enjoying walking hand in hand, content to be together.  Nearby, two other people that felt similarly about each other were making their way over.

“Heck of a show so far, eh?” Odin asked Tadeas as he and Alicia, with the boys in tow, came up next to them.

“Absolutely,” Tadeas answered, “but my money’s still on Olcán, Connor, or Dieter to win this thing.”

“That’s what the smart money’s on anyway,” Odin answered, “what do you think miss?”

Surprised by Odin’s efforts to be friendly, Bledsoe was taken aback at first.  After a moment to get over the surprise, she decided the best thing to do was to return the gesture.

“I’m not sure what to think,” Bledsoe answered, “I’ve never seen anything like this.  So far I have to say that Connor’s been the most impressive as an all-around fighter.  But it was obvious that he was toying with his opponent.  Dieter is by far the most physically imposing, and he definitely knows how to throw his weight around.  I doubt there’s anyone in the world that can stand up with him as far as pure strength goes.”

“What about Olcán?” Odin asked.  “You can never count out my Irish mate.”

“He has a good right hook,” Bledsoe said, “but that’s all I can say for him.”

“From his performance so far,” Odin conceded, “that would be all you can tell about him.  But trust me, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bledsoe asked earning a nod from Odin and a knowing glance from both Tadeas and Alicia as Bledsoe and Odin moved out of the line.

“How were you able to do what you did back at the pavilion…at the Saunders Assignment?”

“I have to admit,” Odin said, “I didn’t think you’d be up for talking about that this soon.”  He took a look at Bledsoe and could tell that she still wasn’t over the experience, but that she sincerely wanted to know more.  “What do you want to know?”

“I know how you were able to fight me so well,” Bledsoe began, “but how could you dodge bullets?”

“Let me just say first,” Odin began, “that you’re the only outsider to ever give me a run for me money.  And we’re trained to listen for the sound of a firing weapon, and to instantly,” Odin emphasized the last word with a snap of his fingers “get out of the path of the barrel.”

“But,” Bledsoe responded, “you had your back to me.  How did you avoid my fire?”

“You’re a government agent,” Odin responded, “it’s common knowledge here that all of you are trained to aim for center mass.”

“Fair enough,” Bledsoe said as they sat down at a nearby table, “so how did you escape?”

“My ‘lawyer’” Odin made quotation mark symbols with his fingers, “was a Watcher who slipped me a piece of paper with the name and location of the nearest Watcher with a cauldron.  After that, it was just a matter of doing what I’m trained to.”

After he finished, Odin pulled up the left sleeve of the shirt he was wearing to reveal one of the tenet marks that adorned his body.

“Do you know what these are?” he asked as Bledsoe nodded in reply.  “Well this one’s for escape and concealment.”

“But how did you escape?” Bledsoe asked with a hint of desperation.

“Come on now,” Odin said with confidence, “a good magician never reveals his tricks.”

Bledsoe let out a frustrated and amused sigh.  She couldn’t help it, Odin had a natural charm and charisma about him that made him almost impossible to hate.  Remembering how he was with his wife and children only amplified it.  She still liked Tadeas and knew that Odin was taken, but she was finding that everyone at the Monastery, once she got to know them, was a model person and the type that she wanted to surround herself with.

“Besides,” Odin continued bringing Bledsoe back to the present, “Olcán would have my head if he found out that I’d told anything about how we accomplish missions to an outsider.”

“Why does he hate outsiders so much?” Bledsoe asked with restrained frustration.

“Did you notice when he was fighting,” Odin asked, “that long jagged scar up his side?”  Bledsoe nodded.  “He and I were on a mission in America several years ago.  An outsider led us to a meat locker where he said a particularly nasty demonic beast we were tracking was hiding out.  We split up to cover both ways out, Olcán went with the outsider.”

“After he told Olcán where it was, Olcán thanked him and told him to stay back.  He went in, and the guy dug a meathook into his side just above his hip and dragged it up to his ribcage.”  Bledsoe couldn’t help but wince at that.

“If I’d gotten to him a minute after I did,” Odin continued, “he probably would have died.  He keeps that scar, he says, to remind him to always trust his Order brothers and never an outsider.  He’s held that grudge ever since.  He only reluctantly acknowledges any usefulness of Watchers.”

Bledsoe saw more and more evidence of what Tadeas meant about a melting pot culture on steroids.  She didn’t know if Dieter and Olcán got along or not, but from what she now knew she had them pegged as complete opposites with regard to their personalities.

“How did you disappear at the pavilion?” Bledsoe asked.  “After you shot Saunders, you and Olcán literally vanished, right before my eyes.  How did you do that?”

“Let’s just say,” Odin answered with a sly tone, “that we have some amazing resources at our disposal.”

“Please,” Bledsoe said with equal parts pleading and frustration, “I have to know how you did that.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say,” Odin answered truthfully, “there are some things about this place and what we do that are very closely guarded.  In your jargon you’d call it top secret, double classified.”

“Fair enough,” Bledsoe said accepting defeat.  “Could I ask you one more thing about that night with Saunders?”  Odin nodded.  “I noticed you using my earpiece, and Taylor told me that they were getting messages from me.  How did you pull that off?”

“Well,” Odin said, “it was my job to plan the assignment and make sure things went off without a hitch.  After I chose my perch and Watcher Andrews told me who’d be stationed there, he gave me some samples of your voice and a list of phrases that would get us through the assignment.”

“After that, I took the samples to a Watcher of ours who’s an audio engineer and he recorded himself saying them.  Then, he altered them so they were in your voice.  At the assignment, I just had Olcán play the appropriate phrases.”

“That reminds me,” Bledsoe added, “something I’ve been wondering since I saw Saunders’ body at the coroner’s.  How did you do that to his head?”

“Has anyone told you about us Knights making our own weapons?” Odin asked.

“Tadeas mentioned something about that,” Bledsoe replied thinking back, “he was talking about Olcán teaching a recruit and mentioned that before anyone can become a Knight they make a weapon of their own and present it to the Apostle and some Shepherds.”

“He didn’t go into any more detail than that?” Odin asked leading to Bledsoe shaking her head in response.

“Well,” Odin began, “we’re encouraged to create a weapon that plays to our strengths.  I’m a marksman, but I’m already set on a particular kind of rifle.  So for my weapon I made a special kind of ammunition.  I call them Surefires.”

“They mushroom like hollow-points, and the shell is coated with liquid Decaelo.  When the round hits the target it disperses the metal into the bloodstream.  The result just inflicts a typical bullet wound to a normal person.  But for a Demon, or someone with one inside them, it causes a chain reaction that’ll make the bugger’s head explode.”

Bledsoe realized now what the shards from the round that no one could identify were.  And she couldn’t help but be impressed at what Odin described.

“What did Tadeas make for himself?” Bledsoe asked intrigued.

“He made a snub nose .38 caliber revolver.” Odin answered.  “Tadeas’s not much for combat.  His specialties are reconnaissance, detection, and strategy.  But his weapon suits his purposes.  It’s portable and very durable so he can carry it anywhere.  He also built several unique holsters for it.  He even made one that he straps to his wrist and extends the gun out into his hand with the push of a button.  Other than that, there’s nothing really unique about the weapon itself except for the engravings he put on it.”

“Odin darling,” Alicia’s voice broke up the conversation as the three Bruce boys and their mother approached Bledsoe and their Dad.  “It’s almost time for the next round.”  Alicia smiled seeing Bledsoe talking with her husband, she figured that Bledsoe was getting over the prejudices she’d rightly had toward Odin and the Order.

“Forgive me,” Alicia said with a smile to Bledsoe, “but I never introduced you to the boys.  These are Xander, Angus, and Malcolm Bruce.  What do you say to the nice lady sweethearts?”

The boys gave a collective hello that made Bledsoe’s heart melt inside at how cute and innocent they were.  They reminded her of her own nieces and nephews, and she marveled at how much like typical children they seemed.

“Hello,” Bledsoe said kindly as she knelt down to be at the boys’ level, “my name’s Alexis Bledsoe.  Now, which one of you is Xander?”

“Me,” Xander said bashfully as a smile came to his face.

“Well,” Bledsoe said extending her hand and taking his, “I’m very pleased to meet you.  And are you,” Bledsoe said moving to the next young Bruce, “Angus or Malcolm?”

“I’m Angus,” he said shaking Bledsoe’s hand and blushing slightly.

“It’s great to meet you too,” Bledsoe said in the same voice she used to talk to her young nieces and nephews.  Then, she moved on to Malcolm who was also smiling and giggling to himself.

“And that would make you Malcolm,” Bledsoe said taking his hand.  “You know,” she said in a slightly softer tone, “I also have big brothers, I can relate to your situation.”

“Are you an angel?” Malcolm asked surprising Bledsoe and the others present.

“What?” Bledsoe asked slightly embarrassed.

“Mom says that Angels are always with us, and that they’re very beautiful but only come around when we aren’t expecting them.  So we always have to be on the lookout.”

“Well,” Bledsoe answered, “I’m very flattered that you asked.  But I’m no angel.  But I can tell you that you’re Mom knows what she’s talking about.  You need to always be looking out for angels.  My Mom used to tell me that they’re always watching over you, that they’ll always protect you, and that if you do find one be sure to never let it go.”

As she talked to Odin and Alicia’s sons, Bledsoe noticed something else.  They were truly happy.  In her work, she’d encountered many unhappy children and families or products of a similar kind of home life and upbringing.  But she could tell by looking at the three boys in front of her that they were the product of a close, loving, and happy family.

“Ready to go,” Tadeas asked as he came in behind Bledsoe carrying their refreshments, “this is only going to get better as the rounds progress.”

Bledsoe nodded and kneeled before repeating to the boys how wonderful it was to meet them.  She then stood up and went with Tadeas.  They all took their respective seats, and a wave of anticipation came over the crowd as Master Lee again moved to the center of the cage.

[thebladeblaster]

I wonder why I always draw crossovers when I’m bored

Anyway this is a very random crossover of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Yugioh Vrains. Basically, the idea is Yusaku becomes the first and last magical boy this is his witch. Kyubey makes a exception with him because of how massive his karmic destiny is. I wonder why?

It is quite the mystery...😂 This is a non-card game au. For the Lost Incident in this universe they basically just forced kids to fight and shocked them when they lost. The Ignis are still created in this au and Ai actually plays a big role. Ai is basically Homura (the Madoka one) after Yusaku’s witch or in this case his warlock destroys everything the Ignis create a time machine so they can go back and prevent it. (Note: In the first timeline they didn’t know about Kyubey or anything they just know a big monster destroyed everything.) Ai accidentally ends up going back instead of Lightning who intended to go back. Through, the countless time loops Ai ends up discovering where the monster came from; his origin as well he ends up befriending Yusaku like the canon when he goes back and he finds out first hand by seeing Yusaku’s soul gem shatter. With this Ai goes back and desperately tries to find a way to prevent Yusaku from becoming a witch/warlock. Not only because he wants to save his fellow Ignis but also because he grows to care and Yusaku and wants to save him. If you are wondering what his wish was it was to get his revenge. And thus Yusaku becomes a magical boy to get his vengeance on the Knights of Hanoi. He actually knew before making this wish about magical girls becoming witches because he was actually smart enough to ask about the fine print though he doesn’t care. Though, that changes as Yusaku ends up befriending Kusanagi, Ai, and etc. he ends up regretting his decision and actually wants to live for something that isn’t revenge. Various ways he ends up going out include him regretting his contract, getting a little too into his revenge and going a bit Sayaka crazy, killing himself to save his friends, getting killed by various characters either transforming or trying to prevent his transformation, and using up all his magic to save his friends. Much like Homura (the Madoka one) Ai eventually decides to just prevent Yusaku from contracting at all and that is where I imagine the story of a fic of this would begin. As for his actual witch/warlock I have to admit I may have had a bit too much fun drawing it. It has multiple inspirations and due to one of the inspirations being hollows I guess this could be used for a potential hollow Yusaku? The main inspiration for his witch is Ashura. Since, Ashuras are known to have six arms I made his arms represent the six elements like Five Headed Dragon. On the three faces I have the main one be impassive like how Yusaku is normally. On the left one there’s a evil face symbolizing what his quest for revenge was turning him into. On the right one it symbolizes the sadness he feels deep down inside. On his back is a pinwheel which I got from Sleeping Beauty. The pinwheel represents how his inevitable fate is a dark one either he dies or becomes a witch. Also, I gave him a big buster sword as a reference to Decode Talker. As for his familiars I based them off of his friends. I’d have more ,but I ran out of space. I thought it was fitting for his familiars to be based off his friends like how the Ignisters are based off the Ignis. The Eyes are obviously based off Ai, the Weeping Maidens are based off Aoi and Miyu, and the Leo Burner is based off Homura (the Yugioh one). Now time for magical boy Yusaku!

(Edit: Magical boy Yusaku! Basically Decode Talker😂 also probably not the final design.)