#oh god I'm such a novice

[bradshawsbitch]

the bradshaws and the small smile

[pillowbugs]

month of ingo, day 1: train

gear station

funny story: while trying to figure out certain elements (mostly the style of the pillars + the window panels), i searched up references of grand central and (old) penn station as the listed design bases for gear station, and oh gods it's beautiful look at the arches the vaults the light shining through the huge windows the scale -

needless to say, i got verrrry sidetracked. the architecture brainrot is real. (i almost want to write up a design analysis of gear station and the inspiration it takes from the aforementioned two IRL stations, but i'm still a novice and so any analysis would probably be very surface-level stuff.)

timelapse (feat. a very rough sketch from memory i did while recovering from my own presentation at school)

[sylvaridreams]

Inhales. You know what gets me when I think about Heart of Thorns. The anti-sylvari sentiment in-universe was SO real for a while there. During the period of time where the whole world of Tyria learned the secret that Wynne had died to protect, that sylvari came from the jungle dragon, that they were made to serve it. Everyone turned on them. Friends, lovers, commanding officers, it didn't matter anymore. They COULD turn mordrem at any time, so you had to assume that they would. You couldn't trust something that belonged to a dragon. Even Laranthir (of the Wild) right after the crash, being held captive by his own people, waiting for him to go feral and tear their throats out. The sylvari Commander was granted a little wiggle room, a little space to walk around freely, but it's all very conditional. Prove you're a good one, that you won't fall to the dragon. There's the event in Verdant Brink where they round up all the sylvari in a camp and ask you to interrogate them, to break them down until they confess to being mordrem. And inevitably a few of them are hiding among the camp, but an equal number of sylvari run from you in fear, more afraid of you and the Pact than the certain death of the jungle beyond. The other innocents that stay don't have a choice. It's keep your head down and don't say anything or be killed, one way or another, while the Commander that you've worked under for the past couple of years interrogates a crying novice, asking if they've heard a voice. And who hasn't heard the voice at that point? The Commander admits to hearing it too. Canach likens it to a buzzing fly. Irritating. Nothing more. Strong willed sylvari don't stumble when Mordremoth speaks. But even that's not true; maybe not everyone's played Heart of Thorns on a sylvari Commander, but the closer you get to the dragon, you start to falter, to black out and lose time. In its domain you actually do fall to it. Briefly. Just for a while, you forget who you are and what you're doing there, and mordrem start giving you killing orders. And you snap out of it and never tell anyone, never. They can't know how close you got.

But what GETS ME is that after the dragon is dead, no one talks about it. It all returns to normal. Like the tension was never there in the first place. I'm sure there might be some loaded quips about sylvari in Living World Season 3 right after, but the next time I actually can recall it coming up is in Path of Fire. Right as you get into Desert Highlands; Canach says something about "I always knew this whole human/gods arrangement wouldn't work out" and Kasmeer shoots back "This coming from someone with a DRAGON in their family tree." And that's that. No one actually really discusses it in-game. They all moved on and don't care if you're a dragon minion or not.

Which. Augh. WHAT!!!!! NO ONE CARES? I'm sure it's a better end-user experience than if everyone you encountered as a sylvari player was like "OOOOOH I DON'T TRUST YOUR TYPE... YOU WRETCHED DRAGON PLANT FOLK" but narratively it's a little boring. At least in the sense that it doesn't feel finished. There should still be tons of anti-sylvari sentiment in Tyria and propaganda spread to force them out of parts of society and stupid hoops to jump through to be considered safe. Just as I think that sylvari should still hold anti-asura sentiment--you're telling me their small second generation had a huge group taken away and tortured to death and there's no ingrained fear of it happening again? I want my sylvari commander to have met Gorrik in LWS4 and been like haha. uh. 😥 (do I really have to work with this guy. An inquest...) (and EVENTUALLY come to like and trust him!) instead of the game plowing over it like oh yeah don't worry about it n_n the facility exploded and all so he doesn't work there now don't worry n_n NO I'M WORRIED!-- again I'm sure that the smoothing over of Everything is a better end-user experience. rather than everyone you meet being rude to you or vice versa. However----💥 (I am killed by a sniper from a long distance so that I stop talking before I begin delving into the prejudices that are already baked into the narrative)

[turnaboutfix]

Oh yes of course!!!

I meant specifically like her very early concept art (blue haired) and like, one of the first ones where she has short hair (but still with those 2 loose locks at the front)? I hope you know which one I'm talking about lolol

BUT if you wanna speak your thoughts on like. All of them. I want to hear 👂❓️

( @ellivcca asked what I thought about Maya's concept art and I replied in priv if they could be more specific)

Let's talk about Maya's designs! ✨

I will skip the blue-haired art for now, since I have more to say about her other early designs. They're in a few Japanese AA Guidebooks, but "逆転裁判2 真相解明マニュアル", or "Gyakuten Saiban 2: Fact-Finding Manual" has the most in one place. There are blurbs that discuss the designs, and I'll do my best to summarize them. My Japanese isn't amazing and I had to mostly rely on machine translation + cross referencing dictionaries, so it's possible I may be inaccurate. Also, I'm a novice at Japanese culture, so if I'm misrepresenting anything please bring this to my attention and I'll correct things accordingly!

The book acknowledges that Maya was intended to be of high-school age, hence the the sailor suit artwork. They seem to suggest that the loose socks was a hint at Maya's spunky personality.

When they began to explore her as a spirit medium (1), they wanted her to come from a wealthy, noble family. It looks like a lot of these explorations made it to Franziska's design, with some of the shapes of the shoulders and the jabot-looking neck wear, which is interesting!

As they kept exploring in the second round of sketches (2), they stressed traditional/folk dress as being an important part of her design. They noted they had her carrying something on her back at the time, which I think hints more to her "folksy" feel.

The beaded necklace she's wearing in (2) are drawn from Mala bead necklaces, which are prayer beads rooted in Hinduism and Buddhism and are said to help focus the mind during meditation. They seem present in a lot of spiritual figures in Japan.

Later (3), they explicitly comment drawing inspiration from the Matagi, a group of hunting clans in the northern Japanese mountains (be careful looking them up, they do bear hunting and there's a lot of explicit imagery, even on the wikipedia).

They comment on that this version of her early character might be very athletic. She also seems to be more stoic in these explorations.

Then, for (4) and (5), they evolved the design to make it look appear more feminine, giving her long hair, but making a note that her look isn't typical of modern people. The large orbs in (3), (4) and (5) I think are supposed be drawn from "Yuigesa"(結袈裟), or harnesses decorated with pom-poms worn by Shugendō practitioners, hermits who live in the mountains and practice asceticism.

Then in (6), they added the magatama and committed to her having black hair. They note shortening the hem of her costume from design (5).

The magatama addition is pretty significant! Magatama necklaces are used by noro priestesses of the Ryukyu Kingdom from the islands in the very south of Japan.

Their religion broadly speaking, involves ancestor worship and the relationships between the living and dead, gods and spirits. It seems to me like the culture in Kurain Village draws a lot from the Ryukyuan people--and you can even see this with the beads along with the magatamas.

But there seems to be a lot of generic imagery of Spirit Mediums that I've been able to find in Japanese media which have shared elements of design in Maya's final design. The most interesting of these to me is "ほんとにあった!霊媒先生", or "It Really Happened! Spirit Medium Teacher". The design similarities are striking (and make me wonder if Maya was an inspiration?)

So, to summarize it all up, it seems like the early designers (and there were only two! Kumiko Suekane and Tatsuro Iwamoto) wanted a character who was different, folksy, feminine and spunky that displayed unique spiritual power to aid in the narrative/game mechanics of the games, and they explored the different facets of their own culture--from the northern Matagi clans to the southern Ryukyuan people--Japanese iconography, and tastes into Maya's final design.

And I think that's Real Neat. :)

Thoughts about other designs (Blue-Haired/SoJ Maya) under the cut cuz oh my gosh this post is already huge.

Blue haired Maya!

What's interesting to me is that a lot of the design language on this early Maya art seems to have been carried over to Ema's design (glasses, boots, coat/skirt). She also has similar vibes to Lynne from Ghost Trick.

I definitely enjoy Maya's final design a lot better, but I like the triadic color harmony and spunk here!

And then her design update in Spirit of Justice! These concepts are from "逆転裁判6 公式ビジュアルブック", or "Gyakuten Saiban 6: Official Visual Book". :)

Takuro Fuse (the character designer) comments that he never drew Maya before when he took a stab at updating her, so he wanted to get that down first before tackling the designs. He wondered how she would change over the course of 11 years, and first experimented with a design, thinking about how Mia would look like as a spirit medium. He thought it would be interesting if Phoenix wouldn't be able to tell if Maya channeled Mia. (Me too tbh.)

I feel like this design has a bit too much going on, but I do like the longer cream colored sleeves!

Takuro talks more about how he was exploring all sorts of designs before landing on something more simple. He wanted her to have what he called a "traveling costume" and was very fond of the hat. These designs seem to pull from similar places I've discussed with Maya's early designs, as well as Japanese pilgrims.

As fun as the additions and changes to her design are, I think it was very smart to just add subtle changes: the longer robes, jacket, and the additional beads to her necklace. The shawl is a nice touch, too. This reflects how post-7yg Phoenix and Edgeworth also have subtle changes to their designs as well, which I love and I think were very smart moves from a design-perspective as well as personal taste. Their designs are very iconic and I think it was a service to maintain that iconography.

This was a very fun thing to explore! Thank you kindly @ellivcca for the ask!

[gravehags]

Your choice of Papa or ghoul/ghoulette f!reader can be NSFW or not.

New sibling of sin jumpy over everything. Every little sound.

Hope this helps!!

the ghovie got my on my papa iv shit. something sweet for you :)

~~~

"Shit."

The clatter of your dropped mop echoes in the marble room and you look guiltily at the mausoleum occupants as if you've somehow disturbed their rest. You didn't think you were easily freaked out before you joined the Ministry but ever since moving in as a novice after your unholy baptism you've been on edge. The sister who assigned the duties around the abbey must have smelled the fear on you when she tightly smirked and informed you you would be working graveyard cleaning duties in the Emeritus crypt. Bitch, you think sourly as you push your reacquired mop into your bucket and slide it along the floor. You didn't know what you had expected when you joined the Ministry but the precarious social hierarchy is not something you particularly excel at. More than anything you just want to catch a glimpse of Papa once more. When you attended your first ritual and watched him on stage in those tight pants and sequined jacket you were enthralled - and that was before he even started singing. Your infatuated sigh echoes in the dimly lit room as you think about his big, gloved hands and what they could do to--

"Eh, hello."

"Fucking shit!" you shriek, once again dropping your mop and spinning on the spot with your hand over your mouth. The person standing before you winces. He's slight and wears a red velour tracksuit over a black shirt that says something you can't see from your position. On his feet are black dress shoes and his hands - currently anxiously clasping each other - sport black leather gloves. When you look at his face - bare except for the black paints around the eyes and upper lip you've come to associate with most upper clergy - it takes you a minute of squinting before you're able to mentally apply the rest of the makeup.

"Oh God," you breathe, "You're him."

"God?" he asks, "Eheh, no I'm definitely not him."

You force yourself to not roll your eyes.

"No," you say, taking a tentative step towards him, "You're Papa."

"Ah," he says, nodding with a nervous little smile, "Yes. I am...he."

There's something so different about the short, slender man who stands before you in comparison to his oversized stage presence. This man is softer, sweeter, and his demeanor immediately sets you at ease.

"I was at the Albuquerque ritual," you blurt out, "Last year's tour? I...you were wonderful. I hadn't heard the band before that night but afterwards I went home and spent all night listening to your music. It's...it's why I joined the Ministry."

"I'm honored, sorella," he murmurs, taking a small step towards you, "And now you're eh, stuck here doing graveyard mop duty."

Oh yeah. You have a job you should be doing. A job that you're neglecting in front of your boss.

"Shit, sorry, let me just--"

"No, no!" he interjects, reaching out to you as you start to stoop to pick up your mop. "We are having such a nice conversation. Will you sit with me?"

He gestures to the lone marble bench in the room and your heart skips a beat.

"O-Of course, Papa," you say, stepping over and slowly lowering yourself. He follows suit, groaning slightly as he sits. A comfortable silence passes between the two of you when he gestures up at one of the crypts.

"That's my dad," he says. You squint at the name inscribed on the marble.

"Papa Nihil," you murmur, "I love the songs he put out."

Papa's lips turn down in a frown and he looks at you askance.

"They're not that good," he mutters, crossing his arms.

"Not as good as 'Life Eternal'," you say, tangling your fingers in your lap, "Shit, that sounded like such ass-kissing, I am so sorry--"

Papa's frown morphs into a gentle smile, his mismatched eyes glittering in the low light.

"You liked Prequelle?"

"Liked it? It's...it's my favorite."

The way he puffs out his chest and looks ridiculously smug makes you giggle.

"I cried the first time I heard 'Life Eternal' - that night when I got home from the ritual? Must have been 3 am and I was sitting on my apartment balcony listening to the album from my shitty portable speaker. I think that was the moment I decided to come here."

"I...I am very pleased to hear that, sorella. How do you find the Ministry so far?"

Ah.

"I um..." you begin, chewing on your bottom lip, "It's..."

"I know exactly what you mean," Papa nods with a sigh.

"Don't get me wrong," you say hastily, "I don't regret my decision it's just...a lot like high school so far."

Papa snorts.

"It is. And if you don't know the right people or say the right things or fit in the way you should you end up-" he gestures at the cold room you both currently sit in "-here. On shitty graveyard shift surrounded by dead papas. A fate I do not think you deserve, sorella."

"You...you don't?"

"Nah," he confirms. He pauses a moment as if considering something and then turns to you.

"Are you eh, any good with computers? Paperwork?"

You laugh.

"I was a secretary in my uh...past life. Had to take it up after my art career flopped. Why do you ask?"

Papa raises a hand to smooth the skin on his upper lip as if he's used to hairs being present there.

"I've been meaning to hire an assistant," he says slowly and your heart stops, "Sister's been chewing my ass out about it. You interested?"

Interested? In working with directly with the man responsible for you changing your whole life? The man you spent an entire concert sighing over, your heart pounding in your chest?

"Papa, I would be honored," you murmur. He gives you a smile and makes a goofy little noise.

"Perfetto!" he says, clapping his hands and rising to his feet. You do the same, a ridiculous grin on your face.

"I'll eh, notify the right people. Ah shit, I don't even know your name."

You tell him and when he repeats it back to you you nearly faint at the sound of it coming out of his mouth. He smiles once more and turns to leave when you boldly reach out a hand and touch his arm.

"Papa...thank you. For everything. I mean it."

He waves a hand at you and even in the dim light of the mausoleum you can see his cheeks turn pink. The sight delights you.

"It's nothing. Buonanotte, sorella. And eh, fuck the mopping. Go to bed."

You laugh.

"If you say so. Good night, Papa."

He gives you one last smile and nod and leaves the crypt. And if your eyes are on the movement of his rear as he exits the room, you'll never tell.

[devildomcrybaby]

Chuuya Nakahara + gun play maybe? Or maybe a more vanilla kink like bondage if you’re not comfortable :)

My beloved anon you're a disgrace, I couldn't manage to think about anything else for days

Chuuya Nakahara ♡ gun play

Minors do not interact. 18+ only

Warnings: the obvious, dubcon, profanity, Chuuya shoots a rat? It's supposed to be a metaphor I'm sorry about this, reader is tied up, enemies

Your heart is pounding in your ears, you can faintly hear is the erratic pace of your breathing. Nervousness? Fear? Wouldn't that please Chuuya.

Perish the thought, fancy hat.

Your bloodshot eyes are looking at him in pure rage, your teeth biting the cloth gagging you, wet with your saliva. You wish it was his flesh instead. Oh but you'll get to it.

"What a sight", Chuuya sighs dramatically. "Harmless and quiet. I could almost bear your presence like this". You dig your fingers in your chains forcefully, chipping a few nails in doing so.

"It suits you" he proceeds "Murky, empty and moist. The natural surroundings of rats". You grunt. God if only the metal would loosen or fracture a bit. You just need a crack and you'd be able to wipe that infuriating grin off his face.

Chuuya takes a few loud steps towards you. The wet and slimy ground making the noise of each stride echo through the room. When he gets right in front of you, he pauses for a moment. He's so close that you can hear the sound of his breathing alternating with the sinister rustle in the shabby cellar.

You're taken aback when you feel the cold muzzle of his gun against your jaw. You gasp when you see his finger moving confidently on the trigger. You hear familiar noise of it being pulled.

"Boom".

It's unloaded. Piece of shit.

"God I'd pay a million dollars to see that look on your face again" he doesn't sound amused though. "Maybe I will".

Complying to Chuuya's wish, an ill-fated rat scoured from a hole in the room towards the stairs. Chuuya stretches his arm out to your side and you jump at the sudden racket. The animal's entrails splatter around the floor in a pool of blood and you snap your head back at the man in front of you.

He runs the head of his gun down your cheek. Beads of sweat slide down your neck and your heaving chest. Fucking hell.

"Do you think the soldiers of the Tsar knew the chances of a gun firing when they played Russian roulette?" he presses the gun under your jaw, right on your pulse point. "They say they did it to get distracted from the stench of the rotting corpses of their comrades. Or do you think that they just relied upon the fate?" there's a long pause. Chuuya hums, staring off. Then his eyes focus on you again. He runs the gun down your neck with unnerving sluggishness, then he uses it to move some of your hair out of the way and trace the opening of your shirt. He makes the first button pop, then the second one and another more until he could see the top of your breasts pushed up by your bra.

Chuuya is enjoying having you in thrall to him way more than he anticipated, way more than he's willing to acknowledge. He pulls down the cloth gagging you.

"Only a fresh-faced novice would expect to play Russian roulette with a pistol" you inveigh and wipe the saliva at the corners of your mouth with your tongue.

"Too bad" he utters in a distracted whisper. Chuuya pushes his gun against your lips.

"What?" you ask with a sneer that would be amused if you didn't want to rip his head off. "Are you that desperate for a little attention, Chuu-chan? Been feeling lonely?". God, each time you open your mouth he wants to bite your tongue. Insufferable stuck-up little punk thinking she's Kazuo Taoka.

"Want me to lick it so you can go home and rub one to it imagining that was your dick instead?" you lay it on thick.

You kiss the tip of his gun, then run your tongue from the rear sight to the tip, eyes set on his.

"Same way as you sitting in your empty apartment drinking 1964 Romanée-Conti pretending to be in boss' place, you fucking ratfink" he means to threaten you with the knowledge of your treacherous designs but his voice comes out breathless, a blush spreading on his cheeks and nose.

Chuuya doesn't give you time to think of another of your godawful comebacks. He swiftly reaches for your underwear ripping it in one single motion. "Be fucking still". You gasp when the cold metal meets your now bare pussy and widen your eyes when you realize that he's trying to guide it inside you. Chuuya grits his teeth, fist clenching around the handle.

You scoff. "It won't fit". Your tone is almost bored, as if you're instructing a silly child on the most basic notion imaginable. "Big ass gun. It's got to be an extension of your ego to make up for the lack of inches in other departments".

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. I'll give you something that will". Chuuya unhooks your chains and you rub your sore wrists, then he presses his gun against your jaw again.

"Don't bite" he warns you, then crushes his lips against yours, a hand reaching down to unzip his pants.

It's going to be a long night. If he entertains you enough to make you forget you want to blow his brains out, that is.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 32

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

WARNING: Extra Smut in this chapter (I'm snowed and this is what came to mind lol)

There was a place between dreaming and awake that I gave in to Dr. Miller’s sleepy sexual advances. His palm cupped my inner thigh and teeth latched onto my earlobe. 

At first I thought I was dreaming and I hummed a little moan as I semi-consciously pushed his hand between my legs.

“I want you,” he growled from behind me. I could feel his erection against my back as his fingers moved up and down my center. Within seconds I could tell his fingers were coated with my wetness. He felt it too.

That was when I rolled onto my back, submitting to him fully as he wasted no time climbing on top of me, kissing me roughly in the process. It took my brain a second or two to catch up, but I kissed him back just as hard; just as needy.

He parted my legs with his knee and reached for my hands, pinning them both down on the pillow. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” Dr. Miller demanded in a whisper.

I did as he asked and bit down on my bottom lip when he pushed inside of me. I whispered his name back to him and moaned out loud when he thrusted into me, still pinning me down.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but instead I just squeezed his hands, digging my nails into him as my thighs tightened around his hips. He released one of my hands to place his thumb in my mouth and I watched his eyes stalking my tongue’s every move as I swirled around the tip

When I tried to hug his body to mine, he quickly pinned my hand back down and my eyes closed from the immediate lack of control. Fuck, why did this sort of thing turn me on so badly.

His lips touched mine as he spoke. “Hands and knees, baby.”

When his cock left my body my eyes snapped open. “Don't stop,” I begged. When his hands released mine, I tried to pull him back to me; but he grabbed me first and positioned me on the bed in front of him on all fours.

Fuck, this man will be the death of me.

Dr. Miller reached to turn on the small lamp by the bed and then repositioned himself behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and joining himself back to me with one swift movement. He motioned with his free arm straight head toward a mirror a few feet from the bed. Our eyes met in the reflection.

“Look at Daddy,” he whispered in my ear.

Oh. My. God.

Dr Miller thrusted into me and I moaned and closed my eyes, gripping the comforter with both of my fists.

His free hand gripped a fistful of my hair and he pulled me back gently. “I said look at me.”

I swallowed hard, completely and willingly at his mercy. “Yes, professor,” I choked out, hoping my dirty talk back was what he was looking for. I was a novice at this, he was a professional.

“Good girl.” Dr. Miller loosened his grip on my hair but still held it firmly. The other arm remained wrapped around my waist as he moved in and out of my aching pussy from behind.

His lips traveled down my neck and his gaze never left mine in the mirror as he worked his tongue and teeth against my sensitive skin. Each time I went to close my eyes from the pleasure, Dr. Miller gave a tug on my hair.

My whole body trembled with pleasure each time he spoke to me in a way that perfectly narrated what he was doing to me.

Good girl. Take it for Daddy.. Say, yes Dr. Miller. Keep looking at me like that. That’s it. Look at you, baby. Who’s my beautiful girl?

My mind was spinning and my thighs were shaking and tightening as I felt ready to explode. This was new. This was something I never knew I needed.

“Fuck, I’m gunna come.” I’d never said those words quite like that, but I shouted them as he urged me on from behind.

Dr. Miller laid his chest on my back, continuing to thrust as one hand cupped my breast. The other held the bottom half of my face and we locked eyes in the mirror again. “Come for me, baby girl.”

I moaned, feeling the start of my orgasm.

“Come on.”

My eyes pressed shut. I couldn’t help it. My hand clawed at his over my breast and I arched my neck back as much as I could from the way his hand grasped my face.

I had never felt anything like it. Even from him. This was, without a doubt, the most erotic sex I had ever had. I was seeing stars, and he never stopped talking in my ear. Never stopped encouraging me to indulge in every subsequent explosion that seemed to be infinite and left me crying out.

What was happening? This was different - in the best of ways.

He let his hand fall to my inner thigh, cursing as he brought his saturated hand up into our line of vision.

“Mmm.. fuck.. baby..,” Dr. Miller’s hands abruptly fell to my hips and he held me hard, thrusting two or three more times erratically before finishing with the intensity of ten men.

I still wasn’t over it. My own pleasure lingered with each pump of his hips, sending me into a final chorus of moans.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck.

I wouldn’t be able to stand when the morning came. My entire body was shot; spent. When Dr. Miller slowed his pace, he never pulled out of me. He just breathed in my ear and gently kissed my face and neck.

I let a hand drop below my waist, soothing myself as I finally began to come down off the intense high of the moment. But, I wasn’t there yet. My head was still spinning. I closed my eyes and placed both hands over his, hugging my body and his arms that were around me.

“Fuck, what happened?” I asked, breathing heavily. I moaned from just the slightest, most innocent movement of him inside of me.

“Are you okay?” He breathed the words into my ear.

“Mmm-hmm.” I swallowed hard and melted back into him as he continued to pamper me with kisses.

“Was that too much?”

“No,” I answered right away. “No.. that was..” I let out a deep sigh. I didn’t have the words to put into a full sentence.

“What I was saying wasn’t too much?”

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had.” I might as well just say it. It was. And I wanted more of it.

Dr. Miller let out one of his quiet, wicked laughs and then nipped at my earlobe again. “Has that ever happened to you before?”

“What happened?” I turned partway to look at him and he finally pulled out of me. It made me sigh and close my eyes.

He took my hand and placed it down on the damp sheets. There was practically a puddle there.  I realized that was all from me. I felt a quick wave of embarrassment, but he quickly put that fire out.

“Oh my God. What.. why.. I-”

Dr. Miller chuckled and tucked his fingers beneath my chin. “It happens sometimes.” He pressed against mine. “When two people connect just right.” His tongue penetrated my lips and my hand found his cheek in our brief, lazy makeout session.

I had never squirted before. I didn’t even know how to do that. I thought I knew why it happened, but I wasn’t even sure about that.

That explains that extra intensity, I thought.

I took a deep breath and looked down again as our lips parted.

“Hey.” Dr. Miller held my face gently again, a complete contrast to the way he manhandled me a minute or two before. He smirked, “It’s okay.”

I smiled back at him and let my body and mind relax. “You should talk to me like that every time.”

“Mmm,” he kissed me again and pulled me down to lay on his chest.

After a few minutes of silence I finally spoke again, basking in the afterglow of our love making. “That was so good. Another level good.”

Dr. Miller chuckled and sighed. He kissed my forehead.

“I feel like there’s a lot I don’t know,” I said to him, smiling wide as our eyes met from a few inches away. I added, “Yet.”

“Well.. I’d be happy to teach you.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[accihoe]

Case Study 1

Pairing: detective!Bucky x doctor!reader

Summary: Prologue of how the geneticist and the detective met.

Warnings: Angst (in chapters to come)

A/u: 80s (Starts off in late 70s)

A/n: Howdy. Same drill; PLEASE DON'T STEAL MY WORK. God bless.

xxx

August 31, 1979

"Barnes." Stark acknowledges as he walks into the detective's office. "Stark." James says, removing his glasses and laying them on his brown desk. "Here are the evidence forms. We contacted Doctor Banner, but he's caught up in something. So, in place, he's sending his brightest intern." Tony states, sitting on the desk. "An intern?" James sighs, rubbing his cheeks. "Apparently she's good." Tony shrugs, lighting his cigar. "No smokin' in here. Ma complains about the smell." James waves away the smoke. Tony rolls his eyes and walks to the door. "You two start Monday, September 3rd." With that, Tony leaves.

September 3rd, 1979

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor, I'm detective Steven Rogers." Bucky hears Steve as he walks into the building. "The pleasure is all mine, detective. I'm Doctor Y/N Y/L/N." Y/N smiles warmly, shaking Steve's hand. "Doctor? I thought you were a novice." James states as he walks in, and Steve shakes his head with a quiet sigh. "I'm a Probationer, actually. Mr Barnes Junior." Y/N states. "Is that so?" James asks, lighting his cigar. "Indeed. However I lean more towards the science in genetics than medical practice." She says. "Very well. Well now that we've passed the introduction phase let's get to the case, shall we?" Barnes changes the subject. "Yes of course." Y/N smiles. James feels his heart jolt at her warm smile, so he returns it.

September 21st, 1979

"You're aware that the case ended like a week ago, right?" Sam Wilson asks, slipping his coat over his shoulders. "Oh we're very aware. Doctor Y/L/N is just helping me uncover more family schemes and suspect. Because she's a genius and all." Barnes shrugs. "Right. And that's why she's sitting on your desk." Sam says as he leans against his colleague's doorframe. "Goodnight Sam. Take care." Y/N smiles and singsongs. Sam sighs and shakes his head as he leaves, and once his back is turned to them he allows the smile to take over his face.

November 16th, 1979

"Buck, can I ask you something?" Y/N looks over at James, tucking a strand of overgrown hair behind his ear. "Ask away, doc." He smiles, looking down at the filed paperwork on his lap. "How would you like to meet my family?" She hums, twirling his hair between her fingertips. "Isn't it a bit soon, dollface?" He asks, finally looking at her. "I don't think so. For all they know we could've been together since September 3rd." She states calmy. Bucky smiles at his girl, taking her hand into his. "They're going to swoon over you. Trust me. Just brace yourself for questions. They have loads of them. About anything and everything." She says. James laughs, tilting his head to the side. "I can't wait to meet them. When and where do we go?" Bucky is quick to shift closer, intrigued and excited.

They shared their first kiss over New Year's. And, 4 months later, Y/N had a shimmering engagement ring adorning her left hand.

September 3rd, 1980

"And do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The pastor asks. "I do." James smiles, more sure about his answer than he's ever been. "And do you, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, take James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The pastor asks. Y/N sucks in a breath of excitement as she looks at all the seated and waiting guests, and then to her almost husband, his beautiful baby blues shining with the utmost love and adoration, "I do.". "You may now kiss the bride." The pastor announces. The crowd cheers and applauds as James dips his wife and kisses her.

"This is so bananas that on this very day, a year ago, we met for the first time. And now we're married." Y/N says dreamily as her husband kisses her knuckles as they sit at the bride and groom table. "Yeah, love acts in mysterious ways." He agrees, feeling himself get physically lost inside her eyes. "I love you, Y/N Y/M/N Barnes." He smiles, eyes scanning over her breath-taking features. "And I love you, James Buchanan Barnes." She hums in agreement. "Tonight I'm exceptionally grateful that Doctor Banner was busy." James smiles. "Want to know a secret?" Y/N whispers. "Always." He whispers. "He wasn't really busy. But I asked to go in his place." Y/N smiles up at her husband. "Wait. What?" He asks, scrunching his nose up as he smiles.

"Well, I wanted to gain experience fairly quickly, and word about NY's hottest detective on the look for a Geneticist came my way, so I pulled a few strings." Y/N admits. "So I have my beautiful wife to thank for this?" Bucky asks with a smile. "And Tony, for allowing a rookie in on a big case." She smiles playfully. "You helped us ace that case." James says in return.

xxx

This will probably just be a mini-series. But I'll see how it does, and decide thereafter.

[aishangotome]

Roger Barel: Chapter 8

Chapter 7

♡———♡

Crown's undercover mission took Roger and me to a rural village.

The true identity of the Spirit God, who held absolute power in the village, was about to be exposed.

Roger: Didn't your mama teach you in the womb to listen to people until the end?

Roger: It's true that the tetanus cure isn't available to the public. But if it doesn't exist, we can just make it.

Spirit God: That's impossible...

Roger: It's possible for me, a former doctor.

Spirit God: A doctor...? You're lying! You're just trying to take my place...!

Roger: ...Shut up.

Roger sharply rebuked the ranting voice.

Spirit God: ...!

Roger: While you're yelling, this little girl... will die, you know?

His angry gaze sent chills down my spine.

(Such intense killing intent...)

(...Oh, right. Roger is angry.)

(I've never seen Roger show his emotions so openly before...)

Child's Mother: ...Please...

Child's Mother: Please, save my child...!

Her strained voice trembled in the air.

Holding her dying daughter, the mother's eyes looked pleadingly at Roger.

---The man called the Spirit God was tied up with rope, and the villagers were to keep watch over him.

We were given a room and started working on refining the tetanus cure.

-

Liam: Roger, I brought the medicines you asked for from the warehouse!

Roger: Perfect, thanks. We need to relieve that little girl's suffering quickly. Let's hurry.

Kate: Yes!

Roger took off his jacket and started looking through the collected medicines.

(There's not much I can do, but I want to be of some help.)

Kate: I'll disinfect these test tubes. Carbolic acid can be used for disinfection, right?

Roger: ............

(Huh? Did I make a mistake in how to use carbolic acid...?)

Kate: Um... Roger?

Roger: I thought you were doing something at night, but you were studying medicine too?

His large hand ruffled my hair.

Kate: ...!

His touch was like when he petted Ale, Roger's dog.

But even so... I felt my heart beat a little faster.

Roger: It's helpful, thank you, Kate.

Kate: No... I'm still a novice, so please give me instructions.

Roger: Alright, then I'll use you to the fullest.

(Why am I... so happy just from being praised by Roger?)

The sound of my heart beating, thump-thump, was definitely different from usual.

(No, no. Knowledge is also a form of strength. I was just happy that I became a little stronger.)

(...Probably.)

--After selecting the chemicals and conducting numerous tests, the tetanus cure was refined.

Roger: Alright... Once we conduct clinical trials, we can actually administer this.

(Clinical trials mean...)

Kate: Testing on healthy subjects to examine the drug's effects, right?

Roger: Exactly. This time, we want to see if it's safe to drink.

Liam: Roger, I'll drink it. I'm healthy, and even if something happens to me, I...

Roger gave a wry smile to Liam, who had raised his hand first.

Roger: Liam. Do you think I'd easily fall for your "bad habit"?

Liam: Ah...!

Curiosity - that was the curse placed on Liam.

Roger: Besides, it's too bad. I was just thirsty.

With that, Roger gulped down the cure that was in the bottle.

Kate and Liam: Wh-What!?

After being stunned by his bold drinking, we came to our senses.

Kate: Roger! What if something happens to you!?

Roger: It'll be fine. I'm sturdier than you guys.

(Is he really okay...?)

Half of me trusted Roger, and the other half didn't.

But Roger himself...

Roger: We need to wait a while for the effects to show. Alright, I'm going to take a nap.

Roger: Kate, wake me up in an hour.

With that, he flopped onto the bed.

Kate: Huh, Roger?

He started snoring within seconds.

Kate: ...He's... asleep?

As I blinked in surprise at his swiftness, Liam laughed.

Liam: Heh, you can't kill him even if you try.

Liam: I'm going to check on the villagers.

Liam: Kate, please take care of Roger.

The door closed, leaving Roger and me alone in the room.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and Roger's hand fell from his chest onto my lap.

(He really is asleep...)

His gloved hand was bony and large.

I gently touched his fingertips, resting defenselessly on my lap.

(These hands have surely killed people before.)

(And they've saved many lives as well.)

What Roger does seems to hold both life and death in the palm of his hand - a stark contradiction.

He, with his sharp mind, must be aware of this contradiction.

An egoist who carries a hunting rifle as if bearing the sin of murder, calls himself a former doctor, and lives in this darkness.

(...What is Roger trying to do in Crown?)

*flashback*

Kate: ...What kind of research are you doing, Roger?

Roger: I want to erase the cursed ones from this world.

*flashback over*

(Could those words mean...)

I shook my head, trying to organize my thoughts.

(...No, I shouldn't try to find the answer only in my own head.)

No matter how much I think, my thoughts won't reach Roger's truth.

(At least, not the current me...)

After that, Roger woke up without any problems.

The tetanus cure was administered to the suffering girl, and under the watchful eyes of the villagers...

As the rising sun dyed the air, the girl opened her eyes.

--

Roger: ...Her pulse is normal, no numbness in her limbs. The medicine worked.

(Thank goodness...!)

Child's Mother: Thank you! You are a god!

Roger: ...Me, a god?

Roger: Don't make me laugh. I'm just an ordinary human, as you can see.

Roger: ...If I were a god, I would erase all the absurdities that plague this world with my own hands.

(...Roger...?)

His eyes were cold, betraying the warmth in his words.

But the expression vanished from Roger's face in an instant.

Instead, a sarcastic smile appeared on his face.

Roger: Humans can't become gods, even if they stand on their heads. That's what makes it interesting, isn't it?

Spirit God: ...Sh-Shut up!

Everyone present turned around at the roar that shattered the peace.

Kate: Huh, the Spirit God!? Wasn't he supposed to be captured and under surveillance...?

The villagers were also in an uproar at the sudden appearance of the Spirit God.

Village Man: Wh-When did he get out of the ropes!? Everyone, run!

The Spirit God, who seemed to have escaped on his own, had an eerie grin on his face in the midst of the chaotic room...

(He's coming towards us...!)

He pounced on me from behind as I tried to run away.

Kate: Kyaaa...!

Roger: Kate!

Roger, who was beside the girl, reached out his hand, but I was caught by the Spirit God before he could reach me.

Liam: Kate...!

Roger: ...........

Spirit God: If you don't want this woman killed, forget everything you saw in this village!

Spirit God: Then I can live here as a god again!

(What nonsense... But still, what strength...!)

(...What should I do?)

The arm wrapped around my neck was stealing my air.

I desperately raised my face and met Roger's eyes.

Roger: ...........

While everyone around us turned pale, only Roger was laughing.

(...Huh? Why is he laughing at a time like this...?)

His amber eyes gleamed with amusement as if asking me, "You want to get stronger, don't you?"

(This man is...!)

(But, but...)

---It's better to be amused than to be underestimated for being incapable.

(Calm down and remember... the self-defense techniques Roger taught me.)

*flashback*

Roger: Step 2, what to do when you're hugged.

Kate: Huh, what am I supposed to do in this situation!?

Roger: Hey, hey, I told you that trying to force your way out is counterproductive.

Roger: First, relax your whole body. Imagine yourself as a puppet with its strings cut.

*flashback over*

I calmed my mind and relaxed my body all at once as I exhaled.

Spirit God: ...Wh-What? She suddenly got heavy...

(Now's my chance!)

The moment the Spirit God panicked, I pushed his arm up from below.

Roger: Kate, well done. Now crouch down.

The instant I escaped from the Spirit God's arm, Roger stepped in...

Kate: ...!

A powerful jab hit the Spirit God's chin, and he collapsed unconscious.

(His eyes are rolled back, he's completely out...)

Kate: A one-hit KO... How strong are your arms?

Roger: Didn't I tell you? I'm a heavyweight boxing champion.

--CHOICES--

Wow...

Are you serious?

You're incredible...

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

Kate: Wow...

Kate: Wait! You casually mentioned you're a heavyweight boxing champion!?

Roger: Haha, impressive, right?

(He doesn't seem to be joking. He really is an incredible person...)

I definitely want to grill him about boxing for an hour or so, but there's something else I'm curious about first.

Kate: He's not dead, is he...?

I put my finger on the Spirit God's neck to check for a pulse.

Kate: Oh, he's breathing...

Liam: He's breathing, but he won't wake up for a while. Well, maybe it's for the best.

(As long as he's not dead, it's okay for now...)

Even if they're a villain, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth to see them die in front of you.

Blonde-Haired Child: ...Glasses... brother...

The girl, who seemed to have recovered enough to get out of bed, approached Roger.

Roger: Hmm, what's wrong? Are you in pain somewhere?

Blonde-Haired Child: No. Um... thank you for making the pain go away...

Blonde-Haired Child: And thank you to the sister and the pink brother too...

Kate: I'm happy you're feeling better too.

Liam: Pink brother, huh? That's cute.

Roger: You're welcome. I've received the best reward.

-

The Spirit God, who had regained consciousness, confessed to all his crimes and was sent back to the police.

This closed-off village would now be opened up with financial support from Her Majesty-- reported Victor, having rushed over with the news.

And I...

--

I parted ways with Victor, who said he would take care of the aftermath, and Liam, who volunteered to accompany him. Roger and I boarded a train heading back to London a little earlier.

The twilight dyed the scenery outside the flowing window.

Roger: ...Heh, haha.

Roger, who was sitting across from me, suddenly started laughing.

Roger: That guy's face when you slipped out of his arms was priceless.

(So that's why...)

Remembering the dumbfounded look on the Spirit God's face when he didn't understand what had happened, a smile also appeared on my lips.

Kate: Heh, hehe...

Kate: That's not something to laugh about! I thought I was going to die!

I glared at him, but Roger continued to laugh, resting his cheek on the window frame.

Roger: My bad, my bad. But honestly, seeing you use the self-defense techniques so well was impressive.

Roger: And the fact that you were secretly studying medicine too.

Roger: So, Kate, close your eyes.

Kate: ...Don't do anything weird, okay?

I closed my eyes after giving him a warning.

...Then, I felt fingers touch my neck.

(Lace? It's like a thin tie... but it feels really nice.)

Roger: You can open your eyes now.

Kate: ..........

I slowly opened my eyelids.

Roger: .............

In his amber eyes, I saw my own reflection wearing a cute choker.

Kate: This is...?

Roger: It's a collar. You've been promoted from chore girl to pet dog, congrats.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 9

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[tcwautism]

❝ May the fool in it's wedding gown recieve a promo ? 𖧷

[pt: May the fool in it's wedding gown recieve a promo? /end pt]

Greetings and Hello! I am Lilith/Lovelace (it/they), I am not new to mogaiblr (I currently run adorcubus and once used to run d-vewing!) but I am, however, new to editblr and editing in general!

I mainly do pixels, novice rentry graphics, and dividers, but I wish to branch out into doing layouts, wallpapers, system related flags and ID packs! an odd set of things to do, but I'm very good at some of them! :]

please send an ask if you'd like to be removed! @outergodly @pink-sugar @whisfer @rwuffles @disrealities + anyone else who'd like to! :D

ohgodwhoamisupposedtotaginthese

[pt: oh god who am I supposed to tag in these. /end pt]

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

reader is adopted by zib headcanons? (but more of like an uncle then a parent if that's okay!!)

also wanted to say that all your posts are a really fun read!!!

Since I'm in a fluffy parental-figure mood now why not knock this one out too

TW for mention of stabbing and bleeding. (It's not what you think, I promise; Zib just sucks at making a stuffed animal)

Zib can hardly look after himself, let alone a kitten. But this scruffy little mongrel who couldn't be older than 5 reminded him of himself so much that he opened the door for you anyway.

Now-Zib is not a kitten guy. He's more of a young-adult guy. So picking up a kitten and declaring "this is mine now" on a semi-hungover whim probably wasn't the smartest idea that he's ever had. However one panicked call to Mitzi later (while leaving you to play with the old clarinet he gave you in a desperate attempt to keep you happy. Oh, his poor ears will never recover) and he more or less knows what he's doing.

First call is a toy. He's one step away from throwing the clarinet out the window at this point; so he grabs some clean socks, rips open a pillow for it's fluffy innards and stabs his paws bloody with shitty sewing skills to make you something that vaguely resembles a toy.

It, remarkably, works. The awful shrieks and creaking of a broken clarinet being played by a total novice has ceased. Now that he's not getting his eardrums blared out, he can think straight.

Step two is food. You need to eat. He's not giving a kitten the normal liquid breakfast, lunch and dinner. There's some bread in the fridge and the toaster still works, so he hopes to god that you're not lactose-intolerant and makes some toast with butter.

Step three...

He falters there. Mitzi had told him to call the police and tell them that he had picked up a homeless kitten, but he and the fuzz weren't exactly on good terms at the moment and he didn't have it in him to send this admittedly adorable little firecracker to an orphanage where they'll force them to clean up their act, wear cute little outfits and spend their days learning manners that nobody in the real world uses anyway. No, this kitten who's currently playfighting an amalgamation of socks wouldn't fit in. He'd be sending them off to be bullied into becoming a proper member of society.

They're not a proper member any more than he is.

Another call, this one to Ben. He's got a daughter at home, maybe he can think of something.

The phone call is essentially Zib going: "Hi, Ben, so I have a kitten now. No, they're not mine. I swear, Ben, they're not mine-no, they're not Mitzi's castoffs, either. Good god, tomcat, she pays you to-okay, yes, I know, she hasn't paid us yet. But-back to the point! I have a kitten here and my place is a mess. I just made them some toast. You have a girl-sorry, a daughter. I meant daughter! You have a daughter. Can you give me some pointers? What do you mean you've coming over-"

Turns out Ben's little girl is the same age you are. She's also a sweetheart. She brings some toys over to share, doesn't laugh at Zib's pathetic attempt at a toy for you (which is already falling apart) and offers to let you pick one or two toys of hers to keep.

Meanwhile Ben pulls Zib aside and the latter has an anxiety attack over what he's supposed to do with you. Bringing a kitten home when he can barely afford the basic necessities for himself? Is he crazy? He can't even blame this decision on drunken stupidity, he was completely sober (albeit hungover) when he brought you in. You'd have better luck with literally anyone else!

Ben gives him two choices. Either you come home with him, or he takes you to an orphanage. He might as well have punched Zib in the gut, since he had already gotten attached to you; so Ben makes a compromise: he takes you home, but Zib can visit whenever he wants to, he can take you out of the house if you agree to go and he'll bring you to the speakeasy so you'll at least see him every night. This sooths Zib enough to agree.

Ben keeps up his end of the bargain. After settling in to your second new home of the day, you're in a third new place-the Lackadaisy speakeasy. Zib is lazing at the bar when you see him but he perks up pretty quickly at your voice.

He has a shadow for the rest of the night. Every so often a cat will ask him if you're his and laugh, like the idea is ridiculous to even mention. Zib will just give them his rare cocky smile and ruffle your fur, saying "well, yeah, they are. For tonight, at least."

It becomes an inside joke between you. You'll attach to him like Velcro when he's not needed on stage and you'll be "his for the night". However as you grow up, you see him as more of a very strange equal than adult figure. You're on the same wavelength, to an extent.

Zib never thought he'd be a surrogate family figure of any kind. Now he's a little hard-pressed to imagine the Lackadaisy life without you in it. If he's lucky and it lasts long enough, maybe you'll be able to join Ivy in the crew and he'll see you every day, too.

Just please god don't grow up to be a rumrunner he sees the kind of stress that puts on Viktor whenever Ivy goes out

[crimsonbastard]

I made you into My Pet

Been a while since I wrote some one-shots (I write them, show it to my smut reading friends but I never posted them on Tumblr or any other website.) This one is about the pairing Hector X Lenore or Lenector for short from the Netflix Castlevania series which is one of my favourites. Despite the Pairing being inherently unhealthy and Problematic I just can't help but become enthralled by the skewed power dynamics, basically I know that its wrong, so its fiction so I enjoy it anyway (for the moral police). I'm open for constructive criticism on this work given that you won't be a hateful waste of space. Enjoy!

PS: I'm a novice at making GIFS so please excuse me.

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

Sick

That's what Hector felt once he exited the council room. Or for the lack of a better word, thats what he felt when he got dragged out of the council room by the woman who viciously betrayed him hours ago, as she led him down the hallway, gently holding his hand as he wobbled along behind her. 

Pangs of nausea circulated throughout his abdomen. His mind on overdrive with the recent overload of information dumped on his already overstimulated mind. He could feel the gears of his head turning as he processed this new batch of information, he felt his temples burning, he thought if this continued further he would see steam rising from his head as he replayed the voices in the council room mere moments ago.

"These are slave rings, one of them found it's way to Hector's hand when he was swearing his loyalty to me"

"Oh my God you've adopted him"

"Turns out he's fairly good at sex and I want to train him"

"Shush the real people are talking"

His breath quickened and his head, hurt and heavy. Thinking was a luxury that he could no longer afford as he felt his legs give out from the icy breeze of Styria's night sky. He fell on his knees. His hands on the ground. His shivers forming clouds in the freezing wind. The torches in the hall way flickered as he tried getting back his bearings. Time and space seemed disjointed as everything around him became immaterial. There was only the aftershocks of the piercing pain he felt a few hours ago, when he foolishly pledged his life away to her.

He wanted to scream, scream his heart out, do something, anything. But all he could do was whimper as the reality of his situation dawned on him. His hands trembled on the cold marble floor in the hallway leading away from the council room, he could see his knuckles get pale as they rested on the white marble, the veins of his hand moving ever so slightly as he shivered. His eyes, so fixated on his shivering hands that they did not register the glint of a small, inconspicuous ring of black and red, resting gently on the ring finger of his left hand.

Slave Ring as Lenore called it. The Instrument of her betrayal, and his damnation. Such a small, unassuming thing. When Lenore visited his cell a few hours ago and beckoned him to join her on the rug that she brought along by patting on the empty space beside her, he never noticed it. It was only when she placed her hand on his and intertwined their fingers was when he saw it. Such a small thing. It was never on her before, during her nightly visits to his cell, thus it was only natural for him to ask.

"I never noticed that ring on your hand before. Is that new?"

"Oh, this small thing? It's a symbol of what binds me and my sisters together. The night and the blood. The four of us wear it"

She playfully showed the Red and Black coils that rested on her finger as she nestled closer to him. Before she changed the topic.

A neat sentiment, he thought. A Kingdom ruled by Four Powerful Vampire Women wearing matching rings, a symbol of their sisterhood and reign. Only for it to come crashing down as the cold hearted truth pertaining to the small insignificant object that now rested on his finger reared it's head in the council room, mere moments ago.

"When Hector forges a Night Creature they're loyal to him. But now, he's bound to me through the magic of these rings. When he makes a Night Creature, they're loyal to him, and he swore his loyalty to me so they're loyal to me too"

"These rings are linked, you wear them and his creatures will be loyal to you too. And if he ever tries to harm us,  take the ring off or tries to run away the ring will cause him so much pain that he would think he shat out his own heart"

Hector was so lost in his hopeless retrospection that he couldn't notice someone's arms gently resting on his shoulders. He could make out dainty fingers tracing the sides of his delts as they rested gently on his clavicle. A woman's hands. And he could only think of one. The one responsible for this brief measure of peace in his hellish imprisonment, and also, the source of his greatest downfall. He could see a small yet regal frame come closer. Dressed in a Dark Shade of Blue, complementing the Styrian snowy sky overlooking the hallway along with a full White Fur Cloak, resting on her shoulders.  He dared himself to look up, what met his gaze was divine.

Her doe eyes with irises of pristine rubies accentuating with the torches flickering in the hallway looked down on him. Her waist length hair, a Fiery Blaze, with two locks falling in front. Her porcelain skin adorned with a slight pink on her cheeks. Her smile-

Her smile, one that exhumed a warm nurturing aura, one of the first things he noticed about her when she visited his cell for the first time. It was so reassuring, it made him be at ease, making him let his gaurd down.

Aquamarine Eyes lost themselves in her gaze as he lost himself in the trance. The flames of rage that he so thoroughly fanned and nurtured in the council room almost died out, leaving an ember of what was once an inferno. Suddenly, he felt cold hands shifting from his shoulders, gently making their way to the underside of his jaw and eventually resting on his cheeks as she looked down upon him.

Vampires were cold, yes. They were a type of an undead. Their hearts didn't beat and they didn't require human food to survive yet they enjoyed it for solely recreational purposes. They needed Human Blood. It was their source of nutrition. The rush of Vitality they get once they taste the copper flow through their throats cannot be matched with any earthly source of sustenance.

Yet her cold touch could still elicit a wave of pleasure through his body. Her mere closing of physical distance between them was enough to make his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. Her thumbs drew circles on his cheeks bones and he felt his heartbeat quicken, pumping blood throughout his body. Especially to his member. He began leaning in to her touch.

Before things could escalate Hector felt the cold touch of Lenore's master ring hugging his cheekbone. He steeled himself yet again. The waning embers of his dying resolve reignited into the inferno that was his fury. His soft eyes narrowed as he grimaced. His features, sharper than ever.

He swatted her hands away from him as he ephemarily got back his bearings. He got back on his feet and instinctively took a few wobbly steps backward, away from her, like a prey backing away from a predator. His mind still reeling from the shock. His breath, shacky. Lenore did nothing. She cocked her head and watched him curiously with her Doll Face.

His voice, now a raspy timbre, shot back.

"You tricked me and made me into your slave!"

The horrific realisation of his fate had now been given a physical existence as he worded them out. The brief control of his body that he regained started slipping again, he wrapped his arms around his stomach as he braced himself. His footing betrayed him again as his legs gave out and he fell on his knees on the cold marble floor yet again.

Lenore, ever so in control, smiled again. It was not a malicious smile. Not the kind that one gives when they best their opponent through deceit and treachery. But the warm, kind smile when you've helped someone out of the goodness of your heart. When you do good for someone because you like them. The kind of smile that made your face radiant, with Warmth and Understanding.

"I did no such thing"

She walked towards Hector's crouched body, with a warm smile and her arms extended.

Hector couldn't see her. He was busy clutching the ring on his left hand. His eyes wide and his breath shakey as the implication of the object that rested on his finger, finally dawned on him. He grabbed a fistful of his own silver locks as his raspy voice announced his defeated realisation of his fate

"You made me your slave! My life is over"

Lenore heard his heart race, the shortening of his breath, as well as the ever so slight tremble of his muscles in tension as his chest rose and fell with each shakey exhale.

She saw him clutching his beautiful silver locks, almost tearing them. She saw his long handsome face drown in a miserable expression as he tried catching his breath. She couldn't bear to see her silly pretty boy having a panic attack over something he had not yet fully understood. She wanted to do nothing but hold him, ease him into this, and make him finally understand that this wasn't damnation. He'll understand, in time. She will patiently make him  understand, as many times if need be. And in time, he will be hers, forever .

"Your life is saved Hector"

Her voice, gently refuting his laments. As she wrapped her arms over his crouched figure. Resting over his shoulders. He hated how at ease he felt. He hated that her touch made him feel relaxed as his heartbeat and his breath returned to normalcy. He felt her left hand traverse his Silver hair as she gently grabbed the back of his head and massaged the scalp. He didn't dare to look up, eyes transfixed on his knees that rested on the white marble.

"In fact I gave you what you really needed"

She spoke again, with a hint of excitement, as if she were to reveal a surprise to him that might somehow make him feel better. Hector felt her other hand gently glide to the underside of his jaw and eventually rest under his chin. Gently nudging him to look up at her and meet her gaze.

He met her. Doe eyes shining, like polished rubies, they sparkled with excitement as she finally unveiled what she planned for him all along, with a voice of suppressed excitement.

"I made you into my Pet!"

[eijunes]

omg Cat a sleeping beauty Dazatsu AU sounds amazing?? I'd love to hear about that if you'd like to share 👀 I really need to just binge read your dazatsu fics, I'm in the middle of crescendo right now 💖

Of course I'm very interested in your fyozai one, too!!

aaah crescendo is a little embarrassing cause it's the first thing I ever started writing for them hahah 🙈 I hope you enjoy it!

I tried to write the sleeping beauty AU for an event once but I didn't make it in time because I spent too much time deciding between:

Dazai getting himself sleep-cursed on purpose

Dazai not being under a curse at all, just lying there in some abandoned castle and pretending to be asleep to mess with people who are trying to find him (lmao)

Nevertheless, in this AU Atsushi is a novice member of the royal guard who's trying to find the lost prince and bring him home. He finds Dazai, kisses him awake, and then there's a bit of a misunderstanding between them as they're on the way back to the castle because he doesn't know he woke up Dazai with a true love's kiss. He thinks any kiss would do the trick. Dazai, of course, will not explain the truth outright.

It's a mostly going to be a silly comedy. I'll give you a small excerpt at the end 😄

the fyozai one... it was supposed to be a scene of them talking post this manga arc with a small tease about fyodor's ability but with every chapter the manga gets further and further away from what I envisioned and idk what to do with it anymore.... I really want to write more fyozai though! it's just that whenever I'm in BSD mood dazatsu overtakes my brain. I can't help it

Here goes nothing, Atsushi thought and closed the gap between himself and the prince’s cold lips.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the prince’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

With a yelp, Atsushi leaped back, his heart thundering in his chest. The prince blinked a few times, slowly taking in his surroundings until his face turned into a scowl.

“I’m awake? Tch.”

Atsushi stared at the man, dumbfounded.

Did he just 'tch' at me? What kind of reaction is that?

“Here I was, taking the best nap of my life, and you dare to interrupt me...”

Dare to interrupt? Atsushi balled up his fists, feeling his annoyance bubble inside him. He didn’t exactly expect the prince to fall to his knees in gratitude, but he wouldn’t mind a simple thanks, at least.

“A nap?! You were cursed! I’ve just saved you!”

The prince scoffed. “Did I ask you to save me?”

Atsushi’s anger dissipated in an instant. What did that mean? “I...” Atsushi started, an apology ready at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get the words out.

He looked away from the prince.

Is he mad at me? Fantastic. Not only am I a failure of a Royal Guard, but I also offended the royal heir. And what happens when he learns I kissed him to wake him up?!

The prince didn’t seem to even notice Atsushi’s turmoil. Instead, he collapsed back onto the bed of flowers, sending some of the petals flying into the air.

“Ah, I’m going to miss this place,” he sighed. “Really, you have no idea how rested I feel now. Sleeping curses are the best. You should try it sometime.”

Atsushi had to do something to save his skin. He bowed as deeply as it was physically possible. “Your Highness, please accept my sincerest apologies—”

“Nah, what is done is done,” the prince interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You can’t really curse me back to sleep, can you?”

Atsushi winced. “No, I can’t...”

“Right.” The prince sat up again and jumped off the bed of flowers, leaving a trail of petals on the floor behind him as he made his way to Atsushi. One was also stuck to his hair, and Atsushi’s hand itched with a need to take it off him.

“And none of that ‘Your Highness’. Call me Dazai.” The prince leaned down to whisper into Atsushi’s ear. “I think we’re already acquainted intimately enough to skip the pleasantries, don’t you think?”

Oh god, he knows about the kiss.

Atsushi jumped away as if he was burned. “Again, I am so sorry!”

Dazai laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s much better to be woken up by a kiss than a punch. Unfortunately, I had the displeasure of experiencing the latter a few times.” He threw an arm around Atsushi’s shoulders. “But you know, if you ever need some kissing practice, you know where to find me.”

Atsushi pushed him off.

[asha-mage]

Wheel of Time Musing: Season 2, Episode 1

Still digging the Dark Friend Social cold open, and the way it once again preserves the heart of the series while having to change the details.

God Rosemund Pike KILLS it in the bath scene, managing to convey everything about Moiraine's emotional state without dialogue

SHIRLTESS LAN.

Yeah I think this is the show's version of Moiraine's retreat to Adeleas and Vanden's hide away in TGH.

VERIN

Heh Vanden (or Adeleas?) speaking for all the Men Likers in the audience

DANG LEANE STONE COLD

EVEN MORE DANG ALANNA

"I have enough character." ZOE ROBINS CONTINUING TO KILL IT AS NYNAEVE

The Channeling really has improved it's look. I liked season 1's look well enough, but this is a step up.

The show continues to nail Nynaeve's character. Two Rivers stubbornness indeed.

The Aes Sedai looks have ALSO taken a huge step up, I am loving all the different fits.

"A novice died in your care' HMMMMMMMMMMM.

also xray says bald lady is JOYIA BYIR DANG

AES SEDAI POLITICS DELICIOUS

Also the irony that everyone with a speaking role in this scene except Alanna is Black Ajah. Damn.

PERRIN. God things have been rough for him. Poor guy really has lost everything and been dumped to hang out with a bunch of Borderlanders on his own.

HURIN. IS IT HURIN TIME?

Heh, Uno nailed

THAT IS NOT HURIN WHAT WHAT WHAT

ELYAS WHAT

Ohhhhhh I'm CONFLICTED that's a clever merge, but I also had a fondness for Hurin. Yet I can admit he's an easy cut.

Also the subtle hint that PErrin's eyes will probably shift permanently to gold like Elyas's

......Interessssssssssssssting visual representation of a Sending from the Wolves re: Perrin.

I like them working back in details about Domon so smoothly. His bargaining scene with Moiraine is great.

Nynaeve training with the warders is so GOOD. Also Maksim's 'You always make me feel like the third wheel' had me CHOKING.

OH MY GOD EGWENE IS SUCH A OOH OOH GIRL HOLY SHIT

OMG ALANNA

OH MAN OH MAN, DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT THAT NYNAEVE AND LIANDRIN SCENE HOLY SHIT

MORE JUICY INGTAR AND PERRIN SCENES

Yummy yummy Perrin Projection, Yummy Yummy Ingtar Foreshadowing

HOLY SHIT MAT PRISONER ARC LETS GOOOOOOOOO

I am glad that since they choose to go with this arc for Perrin they decided to make it matter and not just fade off. It will definitely make things with him and Faile. Interesting.

Verin coming in CLUTCH with the granny wisdom.

LAN DUAL WIELDING HOLY SHIT

VERIN COMING IN CLUTCH AW YEAH

TBC

[amitysnark]

I've been playing The Wandering Village after watching Real Civil Engineer's series on YouTube, and I have to say, shit is FUN. As it says on the tin, I've got a big preference for farm sims, not really a town-builder person, but oh my god, I love this game so much-- from the concept to the graphics to the gameplay loop. It reminds me of Nausicaa! I'm big on "Earth is a creature" folklore, so the Onbu is a great play on that, and it's super inspiring for my own fantasy worldbuilding.

I've only been playing on Novice mode because I'm a big wimp, but I feel like I'm really getting the hang of it. I might move on to Normal mode soon. Highly recommend if you're a fan of town-builders and cool creatures!!

[wyrddogs]

Something that is on my mind currently: The formality of AKC events vs the more lax nature of most other organizations.

Thoughts? Which is your preference and why?

This is a great question and I've been chewing on it all evening. We'll just train-of-thought it:

So I am obviously involved in a bunch of dog sports and I also regularly volunteer for four different clubs. I am at a mixture of AKC and non-AKC events more or less equally.

For conformation, I've been to one (1) AKC specialty and had a negative experience. My dachshund is 75% workingline and he does not match what is winning in the ring. The judge was rude to me and the club president told me to stick to sports. I'm more pissed than upset, but it has affected me. I've entered Zaku in the terv specialty next weekend and oh my god I am so anxious. I don't want to be treated badly again.

I love UKC confo shows. They're so relaxed. You can wear whatever you want. At the Western Classic I 100% planned to dress up but the nosework trial started an hour late so I ended up doing containers with Kermit, then picking him up and running back to my car so I could grab Zaku and run to the herding dog ring. It's the big huge regional on the West Coast and I walked into the ring wearing jeans and a t-shirt and no one batted an eye.

They're also super welcoming. I see so many people who like. don't show. at all, and they enter their dogs just to try it out and other competitors just adopt them into the fold and give them tips and lend them show leads and the judge will patiently walk them through how to gait them. It's so nice.

For agility I've done CPE, AKC, and USDAA. I did CPE for quite some time before I went, wait I'm not enjoying, this, and allowed myself to quit. I dislike points games and you have to get up to Level 5 in every single points game to get your CATCH. Also, CPE is only offered by one single facility in my area and I don't care for a lot of the people there (love the facility owners, can't say the same for their employees). I haven't gotten into NADAC because the closest NADAC shows are held at this facility and there is a lot of overlap in attendance.

I like AKC agility just fine. There is a Lot of Shit that goes on at AKC trials, and the atmosphere is a hell of a lot more competitive than CPE, but I'm not really turned off or anything. The one USDAA trial I've been to was a lot like AKC, but I think that's because there's a ton of overlap in the people who attend. The cool people who I like that do AKC also do USDAA. I may have opinions on course differences now that I have a fast, competitive dog, but with Kermit and Bindi I don't really care? Though USDAA courses are super long so Kermit may struggle. We'll see.

I have no real interest in any of the European clubs. Like ISO or whatever it's called. I am not that competitive and the vibes kind of repel me.

I've only done AKC tracking and a lot of the people are super lovely and I enjoy spending time with them.

I've been to AKC earthdog and AWTA den trials. The earthdog trials I've been to are put on by the dachshund clubs (aka the club I left in aggravation and the club I refuse to join), so that kind of colors my perception. The AWTA den trials have been put on by real terrier people-- little old ladies in their 70s and 80s who have been hunting their terriers underground on tough game for 50 years. So they are very no-nonsense and they know more about dogs than I ever will. I like them. In terms of setup the tunnels and rules are basically the same. They're even held at the same locations.

Nosework-- I've had very limited experience, though my goal for this winter is to get Kermit through Novice and make good headway on Open (or Advanced?). I'd like to get his L1 someday but NACSW offers so few shows close to me at times that are convenient for me, so who knows when that will happen.

Tons of overlap. Everyone who is volunteering at trials is competing in both venues. A lot of people who are really serious about nosework (students of the sport) are competing at both venues. I will say the NASCW diehards tend to be pretty snobby towards AKC. I think both venues have a lot to offer so it kind of depends on how you feel. The single UKC nosework trial I've been to is even easier than AKC because they allow faults in Novice.

Racing/Fast CAT-- I will say Fast CATs tend to be a hell of a lot more chaotic. They also take a lot longer. And I've seen way more loose and runaway dogs (as in, leave the track and rapidly leaving the parking lot too). I think it's mostly because it attracts casual people who may or may not have trained their dogs, and LGRA tends to attract people who are a bit more serious about racing? Also, the LGRA/CWA meets I volunteer at offer practice sessions which are SO. INCREDIBLY. HELPFUL. when you are starting a dog. Sometimes a dog only needs a ten foot bump to start out and that's it! You can also start your baby puppy in practice sessions. You can spend their first year doing really short sprints so they learn the ropes (this is what I'm doing with Zaku) before they start competition runs. It is incredibly helpful.

With a Fast CAT your dog runs or it doesn't and it's at the club's discretion whether they are willing to work with you or not. Also Fast CATs are super expensive compared to LGRA.

I will say that CWA does have whippet snobs, which is kind of annoying. But the extremely lovely whippet people do make up for it. And honestly most breeds have snobs, so whatever.

I don't have as much experience with CATs/lure coursing but honestly the same clubs are putting them on so the same observations apply.

I am probably leaving something out but these are my observations. Also I volunteer whenever I am not actively warming up, cooling down, running, or exercising my dogs, so people tend to be very nice to me. That definitely influences my opinions; if I kept to myself more people might not be as welcoming.

Thank you for asking!