#reminder that these are just five things I liked in no particular order and with no particular theme lol

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Sunday Affection hc's

I have now played 2.2, no spoilers though

If you're the kind of person that really likes spontaneity, Sunday probably isn't the person for you...

He's got about five itineraries going at once

What meals are being prepared, the clothing you'll wear through the week, exactly what days chores need to be done on, all on top of his meetings and other droning work

So, pretty much all dates and outings are preplanned down to the most insignificant details, ensuring everything runs perfectly

Sunday needs control of his environment

Any little hitch could be a potential threat to your safety!

Chances are, most of the outings and time spent together outside of your shared home, is done in the dreamscape, where he has complete control

Lovely little picnics with the most exquisite view of the beautiful dreamscape sky, or any view you want really, will be off limits to everyone else (except maybe a few trusted dreamweavers, in order to ensure nothing happens)

He's an anxious mess, though he hides it well, every time anyone else approaches you for any reason, his arm around you always, pulling you right into him so he's prepared

That being said, he does truly enjoy going out with you

Walking around the dreamscape, holding your hand or linking arms as he watches all of your perfect reactions with a soft smile, tightening his hold a little when he worries you might run off...

His eyes rarely leave your face in those moments, as if trying to memorize every little micro expression

"I'm merely curious on what you find most pleasing. We're always looking for guest feedback, love." He'll tell you with a reassuring little quirk of his lips, as if his eyes don't soften every time you smile

He's partly true to his word, taking mental notes of everything you like to implement it further, and maybe even make a particular little slice of the dreamscape all for you

One where you can live happily forever, with every little thing you could ever want... It consumes his mind most waking hours

Affection wise he's always very reserved in public, and even embarrassed easily in private at the beginning

That fades soon enough, with him happily taking every opportunity to remind you how much he loves your sweet smile

He unconsciously covers the two of you kissing with his wings, as if creating a little shield, even in private

His wings in particular are known to show his emotions far more than his practiced expressions, twitching and fluttering and even flapping right in front of his face when surprised

When annoyed they'll fluff a little, and when really angry they look as sharp as blades

In public he usually kisses your hand, looking up into your eyes while doing so in a way that feels far too intimate

A lot of his public acts are subtle, adopting your walking pace, keeping a close eyes on your heart rate, gently guiding you when you stray a bit, glaring at anyone who gets too close

He'll probably always default to big spoon, to holding you and comforting you and dote on you

He just wants your happiness, your satisfaction, your safety...

Everything he does is for you

During the beginning of your relationship, he tenses at every little unexpected noise

Being the partner of a powerful figure can be dangerous!

It's not his fault he lays awake at night, watching your breath with unblinking eyes, grappling with these horribly overwhelming feeling of desperation

You need to be safe. You need to be safe.

He's not particularly fond of having his eyes off of you, but the eyes of trusted bodyguards will have to suffice for when he has no choice...

This is especially true with the fear of "death" in the dreamscape at it's peak... You won't spend a single second out of his sight, if he lets you enter the dreamscape at all

The strong should protect the weak, it's his responsible to protect you, in every way possible, no matter what, forever...

He loves you, an overwhelming amount, a truly heartbreakingly tragic amount

No matter what, he hopes you'll love him too

[mapleaves]

25 Days of Agere Moodboards Day 6: A character you headcanon as a regressor 

to everyones shock and dismay Rabbit appears in my posts again <3 im obsessed with him sorry. headcanons below the cut

one two three / four five six / seven eight nine

💭 please dni if nsfw (including ddlg/abdl/etc.)

Headcanons:

I actually think Rabbit both regresses and is a cg!!

Very fussy during regression, but not in the sense that he wants to be babied as much as he wants things kept how he left them when he was big. He's very particular about his home, and he will NOT abide by any messes just because he's small!!

If he had a tv he'd be one of those toddlers who screams at the tv like NOOO ELMO THE HAT DOES NOT GO ON YOUR FOOT!!!!

But on that note, he can be very very silly. It's a lot like when he's big - he'll pout and glare about it at first but with the right tricks you can have him giggling and happy

When he starts to have fun, he gets REALLY into it. Think of that episode in New Adventures where he dresses up as a wizard - if he gets too wrapped up in a game he has to be redirected eventually or he'll never get any rest (and neither will his cgs)

Loves picking flowers with his cg and bringing a plushie out to his garden to show off his plants - as long as they bring a blanket so nothing gets dirty 🙃

Gets worked up really easily, especially if he thinks he's made a mistake and starts beating himself up, or if he's especially overwhelmed

Sometimes he just seems especially anxious or grumpy, but you can usually tell he's getting small when he starts stumbling over his words really badly, going quiet, fidgeting a lot, gnawing on his thumb or getting clingy, etc

World's #1 napping fan

Sometimes tries to force himself to be big when he really needs to regress - he has to be reminded its okay to be small because he puts to much pressure on himself to keep things in order

He won't usually initiate physical contact, but if he's upset a blanket, a warm drink, and some quiet cuddling can help calm him down

Main cg is Tigger, and sometimes they end up regressing together, though Rabbit is more in the toddler-young kid range whereas Tigger is more of a big brother type

[glassautomaton]

What Is the First Magic, Anyways? (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love FGO Spoilers)

Out of the five instances of True Magic, the Second and Third are known about in some detail, the Fouth is a total unknown from what I can gather and simply hasn't been expanded upon in the lore quite yet, and the Fifth being shown, but not explained in detail, which is its own post. The First Magic falls somewhere in the middle here, where a few vague things are known about it and the person who attained it, but not much in the way of details.

What we do know for sure is that the Magician of the First Magic was Yumina, the First Witch, who founded the Meinster lineage and used the First to create Ploys, which were passed down to Alice Kuonji, considered to be the last pureblooded Meinster by 1989 following the 'death' of her mother. Based on some information about Witches and the Meinsters in particular from the FGO collab from back in April, I think I can hazard a strong guess as to what the First Magic actually is: authority over Mystics/Mysticism itself.

Some spoilers for FGO's Lostbelt 6, though nothing critical to the plot, as well as this translation of Alice Kuonji's FGO profile.

First off, some basic information about Witches and Yumina that was dropped a solid decade after Witch on the Moly Night first came out, because Nasu's a fucking comedian:

This establishes a few things, first and foremost that Alice is actually Yumina's descendant, that Witches aren't human and are instead closer to faeries (although I'm not sure if they can be considered true faeries as this is phrased like they were created by an individual rather than born from the land or the Inner Sea), and that the daughters of Witches are essentially the next vessel for a singular consciousness, such that lineages are more like a single individual with several reincarnations. Not all of this information is actually completely relevant to this point but how insane is it that Alice got a lore drop for the first time in a decade and it was buried in the ass-end of a six-year-old mobile game? I just needed to get that off my chest.

Alice's profile reinforces this by seeming to allude that Alice's mother and her ancestors were all the same person, as well as the third paragraph using similar wording to how True Magic is often explained.

Crucially, the final line also states that Meinsters stand in defense of Mystics from humanity's constant march towards order, which inevitably destroys Mystics by coming to understand them, as is one of the overarching themes in Type Moon in general. Yumina's lineage seems to be actively pushing back on this.

Knowing Nasu, I could stop right here. See, it's thematically cohesive with the Meinsters and Alice's character arc of growing past the reminders of her family's past and learning to appreciate the present, and thematic cohesion is really all you need in Type Moon, established lore and rules be damned.

However, I think that my point is supported by the Ploys, which are all products of the First Magic. We'll start off with the Three Great Ploys, which we know were created by Yumina proper and not any of her later descendants/incarnations.

Flat Snark, Oil of the Moon, is the Great Ploy that's featured most prominently in Mahoyo. This is pretty straightforward - the prose in the scenes that feature it describe it as Magic, and it functions by transforming the world inside of its domain into a landscape of fantastical insanity. It is, quite literally, draping the landscape in Mystics once again. Even the air becomes dense with mana, similar to the atmosphere in the Age of Gods (as shown in Absolute Demonic Front), when Mystics were at their most common and well-integrated, before humanity had begun to push it back as much as they had.

The Thames Troll is the second of the Great Three Ploys, and one that, at first glance, seems to be by far the most simple - it's a massive golem that can get stronger based on what it's built out of. Alice states she has poor compatibility with it, and therefore can only use its first two forms, that being wood and clay/brick/stone, with its final two forms being iron and steel, then silver and gold. Thames uses the environment to create its body, be it the woods the first time we see it or the brickwork in the park during Alice's fight with Touko, which would mean that further forms would likely do the same. As Alice says that the final form would overshadow even London, this would mean that Thames is capable of annihilating entire cities. However, considering it would need iron and steel nearby to do so, it could likely only become so powerful when being used within a more advanced human settlement, likely for the express purpose of destroying it. Therefore, Thames is the Ploy that most directly serves the Meinster's goals of opposing humanity and safeguarding Mystics.

The final of the Great Three Ploys, which isn't directly stated in Witch on the Holy Night but instead FGO, is Wandersnatch, which frankly could and probably should be its own post. There's a whole hell of a lot going on with that thing.

The long and short of it is that the Ploy consists of a dense fog, and numerous entities within it. Only by glimpsing Wandersnatch's true form in the fog can one escape, which makes the Ploy itself act as a microcosm for Mystics in general - it's an impossible, insurmountable obstacle that can only be weakened and overcome by observing it and learning more about it. It's little surprise, then, that Yumina herself choose Wandersnatch to inhabit while her current descendant doesn't yet harbor her consciousness - much of Wandersnatch’s presence has to do with Yumina attempting to exert more control on Alice in order to possess her and incarnate.

Ultimately, though, the smoking gun for me isn't one of the Three Great Ploys, but the most common one we see used: Diddle Diddle, Alice's favorite Ploy. This one has a simple function, that being that it strengthens Mystics in a certain area when dropped on the ground. Which is simple, yes, but also just absurd. You mean she can just crank out little Christmas tree ornaments that can singlehandedly counteract the one consistent force present in every single Type Moon property? She can just do that? Alice, and only Alice, can just say "nuh uh?" That's not attainable through normal magecraft, and has got to be an application of the First Magic through the Ploy. Considering how straightforward the effect is, it seems to pretty clearly point towards the First Magic being tied to Mystics.

As a final note, I also think this makes sense of Nasu's note that the First Magic was discovered after the Third but named as such for a special reason relating to its nature (although this is from an unofficial translation from the Fandom wiki so take this with a grain of salt). It would be very in keeping with what we know about mage society for them to say Mystics are more foundational and important than souls.

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the November round up of all my favorite fics i read this month!!

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, it's incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March April May June July August September October

you can now also find ALL of the five star fics in my 5 Star Hannigram Fics collection on ao3 :))))

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

without further ado, and in no particular order, let's go!

~

WET by agarina_amigara

Word Count: 5652 Summary: the prompt for day 5 of fcktober: "wet"Post-Fall. The water filtration on the boat sailing Hannibal and Will to freedom sucks ass. Thankfully Will is good with his hands. So is Hannibal.

i desperately need more 'Will being good at fixing boats' fics lolol this was so good!!

Only One Night? by onmywayhome

Word Count: 3203 Summary: It had been 20 minutes of him laying down with his eyes closed, still awake. The only thing that caused his eyes to open was the feeling of his psychiatrist wrapping his arm around his stomach. He pulled Will in closer, Will could hear the faint noise of snoring, ‘Is he asleep?’ he thought to himself, he suddenly felt something poking his backside as Hannibal pushed closer. ‘Oh.’-OR-Hannibal and Will have to share 1 hotel room (and 1 bed ;)) which brings out some intense feelings in both of them

oooooooooookay, i saw the "only one bed" tag and blacked out, love love love love. (it's just PWP, what more do you want from me?)

The Corpse-Angel's Blessing by @dbmars

Word Count: Summary: Will Graham is the omegan prince of the kingdom of Gaulemagne. Despite being the eldest child of the murdered king and queen, he cannot take the throne - the crown is reserved for alphas only, and his brother Matthew will rule once he comes of age. In the meantime, Will and beta princess Alana are under the guardianship of the Regent, their father's first cousin: Frederick Raul de Brûler, Earl of Chilton. Gaulemagne suffers under Chilton's rule. Will's only method of resistance is writing anonymous pamphlets about omegan rights and getting them into the hands of those who can affect change. Chilton knows this brilliant omega is trouble, and arranges a marriage for him with Alpha King Hannibal, the sovereign of Eidermark, the last "civilized" kingdom before the Northern Wastes - a tundraland filled with dangerous nomads uniting under the banner of a man calling himself the Great Red Dragon. Will is sold to King Hannibal the Vicious, traded along with a herd of cattle and casks of wine for weapons and armor. He travels to Eidermark determined to stand up for his beliefs and resist any way he can. And yet... there is more to King Hannibal than anyone knows...

this was a TREAT!!! (idk what else i'd be expecting from dbmars though) the tag 'hannigram is very very horny for eachother but they have to wait for the wedding' is what initially got me and wowow.

Safehome by @dbmars

Word Count: 27798 Summary: On the run, Will and Hannibal lay low for a month in a safehouse in rural Iowa.“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite.”Will’s mind railed against the words. His resistance was powerful at first, like the failure of a mighty dam holding back a river, the water pounding down to the valley below. No. Of course not. Hannibal had to pay for what he’d done to Abigail Hobbs. Jack Crawford was his friend and on the right side of the law. The plan to betray Hannibal would go down exactly as they’d plotted together.But then...Will opened his mouth to artfully refuse.Instead, he heard himself say, “Let’s go.”This is a finished, polished version of my DoMAYstic 2023 prompt challenge completed with twitter x threads. I was saving it to publish in May of 2024 with more smut and better writing, and then suddenly I realized IT'S JUNE AND I FORGOT TO POST IT.So, anyway. If you're looking for a comfort fic, this is pretty damn sweet. And if you've ever lived in the Midwest, well... you get it.

oh oh oh oh this was so freaking good. it was beautiful, it was poignant, it felt like home (hi hello, i am from the upper midwest), it felt like a hug. i love them so much.

Strangers with History by sourweather

Word Count: 2843 Summary: Will and Hannibal both like to visit a website that allows them to sext with random, anonymous strangers. What are the odds they would match with each other?It had to happen eventually.

I want like… 80k words of Will and Hanni sexting each other anonymously while normal s1 events are happening, you know? Or s2.

Night Terrors by @gnawing-suspicion

Word Count: 2665 Summary: Will Graham wakes up from a sex dream about his therapist. It throws off his whole morning.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I AM DECEASED THIS WAS SO HOT. the entire series is fucking AMAZING, @gnawing-suspicion bb you're amazing <3

Birthday Wish by Redeye17

Word Count: 5927 Summary: Will makes an impulsive wish and is dismayed to find it granted by the gods of love.-"I feel it's pertinent to ask you what exactly you wished for last night."Will rapidly mentally calculates how to explain the situation. He certainly hadn’t fucking wished to be a woman, but he has to admit that it is perhaps an easier solution to his wish than the logistical hurdles that carrying a baby in his male body would present."I can't tell you. If I do, it won't come true," Will mumbles out against Hannibal’s chest after a moment's hesitation.

DELICIOUS

Quarantined by KatherineKrawl

Word Count: 9102 Summary: En route to Kansas City for a murder case, Hannibal and Will get an urgent call from Jack, telling them to self-quarantine immediately in a small cabin near the woods. Shopping at Walmart, one double bed and no suits will bring them both a lot of 'firsts'.-“Perhaps we could...” and before Will could turn, an arm extended before his chest to pick a bottle from the pile. “...forgo this for the coming weeks?”Hannibal had appeared beside him, and Will saw the cart he was dragging after himself filled to the brim with cans, bags, bottles and packages. Toilet paper, too.Hannibal had been smart rather than stubborn by forgoing the fresh, perishable produce, and Will was relieved to see it. The look in those amber eyes, however, was... haunting.“That's my aftershave,” Will frowned, as he watched the glass bottle with the little blue ship being removed from the basket.

Enough time has passed since those initial days of the pandemic that this was actual perfection. I loved this so freaking much. And the marshmallow bed. Naturally.

responsible, forever, for what you have tamed by multifandom_fanfic_writer

Word Count: 6689 Summary: There was only one bed.

ONLY ONE BED. God, this was perfect.

To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi

Word Count: 21340 Summary: AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.

Oh this was excellent. This dialogue here was TOP NOTCH.

If i went to touch you now (what would you do?) by LumusWinter

Word Count: 1944 Summary: Will tries to make Hannibal jealous. Needless to say, it works. Set during the second half of season 2.

This was hot PWP, love Will Graham being a size queen.

SEMI-BUTLER by TheSeaVoices

Word Count: 23714 Summary: A modern day Master/servant Hannigram AU. This idea came to me whilst working (literally on my hands and knees applying gold leaf) in one of the extraordinary Cheshire mansions I find myself in surprisingly regularly. I am continually surprised by the inexplicably loyal staff managers (nobody ever says the word BUTLER - but they are), proudly servile and selfless.Will inherits such a property in North West England, complete with staff and an interesting sort-of-butler who enjoys his work. REALLY enjoys his work.Also inspired by Jeeves and Wooster which I'm currently re-reading and loving, and all butlers everywhere. Oh, and Men On Edge :)Encouragement, ideas and pointers have really helped, thanks to:@weconqueratdawn@thecountessolivia@zigzagwanderer@aviran007@zacharybosch@fragile-teacup (Mrs_Gene_Hunt)

This was so OOC for Hannibal and Will, BUT i loved them anyway, and the sheer creativity when it came to the smut ramped this up to five stars for me!

Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick

Word Count: 19363 Summary: In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?

Will Graham showing off for Hannibal on the cameras Hannibal set up without telling Will? God, this was perfect.

It takes four by TheRosetteThief

Word Count: 4893 Summary: Adam confesses that he has a dirty fantasy to Hannibal. Hannibal talks him into letting him help him act it out with Will and Nigel.It's really just shameless foursome smut written for my lovely friends.

okay yes this is technically not just hannigram, but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA good lord, I think if I could be Adam in this scenario, that would fix me.

The Pleasure Was Ours by wyldefire

Word Count: 4215 Summary: “Hear that, Han? Fucking your boy full. He fucking loves my cock.” Nigel teased, reaching up and tweaking at a nipple, nearly drawing a cry from Will’s lips. “Hush. Go on, Will. What else?” Hannibal replied, unfazed by his brother’s taunts. “And… And… I need… I need more. Fuck, Hannibal, I need more. I need more. Please.” Will begged. “What do you need, William?” Hannibal inquired. “You.”

Once again, not strictly Hannigram but... yeah, I'll see myself out. Trans Will in this was perfect.

A Joy Hard Learned in Winter was the Warming of the Bed by omnilegent

Word Count: 2709 Summary: The doctor took the key and opened the door, revealing a pretty standard motel room. Small en-suite with the light still on, terrible TV leaning precariously off the wall, clean but worn out to almost complete smoothness carpet. And only one bed.Ah.‘Adequate.’ Hannibal sniffed, hanging his coat up and feeling the fluffiness (or lack thereof) of the pillows.‘Yeah?’ Will asked, nervous that Hannibal was going to demand another room out of disgust.‘It’s only a night, after all.’ He gave Will a look, fond with a teasing twinkle that he couldn’t quite understand. ‘Unless you would be uncomfortable?’‘No!’ Will replied all too fast. ‘No. Better than the car.’ He tried to quip, but Hannibal’s smirk grew toothy.‘I assure you, I will keep you far warmer than the car heaters can.’—————The boys get stuck in a snowstorm and have to stay in a motel - but guess what? There was only one bed!

THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 2902 Summary: Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.

So this is a thing now for me, I guess!!!

The Business of Pleasure by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 23888 Summary: Hannibal hires a hooker with the intention of eating him after he’s done fucking him.His plans change when he sees the hooker.

Give me moreeeeeeeeeeeeee.

A Little Unfinished Business by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 26680 Summary: Ten years later Will Graham returns to Baltimore.

Sequel to The Business of Pleasure. Just as good.

Sweatpants by mattHughdancy

Word Count: 11736 Summary: It's gray sweatpant season and Will wears some for Reasons. Poor Hannibal is having a *hard* time.

Gimme more of the gray sweatpants please. Tbh me and Hannibal are very much on the same page here.

Wringing a Rock Dry by McRibFarewellTour

Word Count: 4556 Summary: (Between S2 and S3)Will’s sick. Sick enough that he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. Aware that winning their game is no longer an option, he decides to change the rules and go see Hannibal in prison.Hannibal does not appreciate this move.

OUCH. I've rec'd this one before, but I did a reread and it is just as good as it was the first (several) times!!!

~

and that's it for this month!! see y'all next month for the December rec list :)

[accirax]

Project: Eden's Garden Chapter 1 Trailer Analysis

Oh my god it's actually time.

As I'm sure you've heard by now, Team Eden's Garden has finally announced the release date for the fangan's true first chapter: December 20th. And, they did so in a flashy new trailer, which is nearly three minutes long! Naturally, there's a lot of content baked in to those three minutes, so I'm here to take a look at what was flashing by in those rapid-fire montages, as well as make predictions regarding what will happen at the first Class Trial. This will be fun!

And here's hoping I don't run out of images 🤞

The trailer begins with the "mascot" (in this case, Tozu) saying that it's been far too long since we last conversed. Classic.

Next, we see a preview of some locations, both new and old. CAM04: Dorm Hallway and CAM24: Tree of Ignorance were already explorable areas within the Prologue, and CAM08: Damon's Dorm was visible in the Ch1 demo released last year(?). The new locations include CAM32: Hallway A1, CAM35: Pharmacy A1, and CAM39: Pharmacy A5.

(By the way, I'm going to assume that both the numbering of the cameras and the time displayed in the lower right have no particular meaning, because I can't find any connections between them. At first I thought it was weird that Damon's dorm was Camera #8 despite him being 9th in alphabetical last name order, but given that the hallway is Camera #4, I don't think there's a correlation).

While all of the images are intentionally blurry, I'll do the best I can to describe what we can see. The most obvious point of interest is the door at the back of the hallway, under which "CAUTION" is written in big red letters. It also seems that there might be blood dripping down the door, which, if true, would match with the other blood splatter on the floor near the bottom right of the screen. It definitely gives the impression that something happened here before, and that that something was bad. There's also a grate on the wall that's splattered with red, but given that blood is pink in the DR universe, I'm assuming that's rust.

The pharmacies are very interesting to me. First of all, there are two of them. What kind of establishment needs two separate pharmacies? I guess you might if the pharmacies are as different as the two pictured. One looks more like an old-fashioned office or science classroom (it kind of reminds me of v3's Ultimate Detective Lab, honestly), and the other like a scientific research facility. A pharmacy is defined as "a store where medicinal drugs are dispensed and sold," so perhaps Pharmacy A1 is for selling and Pharmacy A5 is for creating?

The "A" in these tags could stand for "area," but they more likely stand for "alpha." At the end of the Chapter 1 demo (watch Weeby Newz's video on it if you want the same level of info I have), the students are about to go through the lowercase "alpha" door in the Tree Room to explore a new area. These three areas are almost certainly behind that door-- perhaps with the checkered pharmacy being room #1, and the blue pharmacy being room #5?

It's also possible that the entire area is considered "the pharmacy," and is dedicated to the production of medicine. But, whether that's the case or not, I have to ask, "why?" Out of all the things they could have put into this falsified Eden's Garden Academy, why make two rooms dedicated to creating drugs? Why potentially make up to five rooms dedicated to creating drugs? With very little information regarding the overarching plot of Eden's Garden, it's hard to determine why. The only connection I can make offhand is that this may have been the origin site of the drugs used to knock everyone out on the train.

I do find it very interesting, though, that this is not just a location in the school, but the very first one we're discovering. Normally, I'd think that places like these, which aren't that conducive to students hanging out (like a pool or recreation center) would be reserved for future chapters. It may imply that drugs and/or poisons are a necessary component of the Chapter 1 murder. We'll see!

Our first of the rapid-fire CGs! This one shows Kai pointing at something within a fancy pink room. There's a canopy bed dressed with pink cloth, some floral-looking wallpaper, and two small paintings of what also appear to be plants on the wall.

Given the appearance of Damon's room earlier in the trailer, I find it likely that this is not a new location in the alpha corridor, but instead, someone's room. There are many pink colored characters in P:EG-- Diana, Toshiko, and Kai himself-- as well as Cassidy, whose character color is close to pink, and Ingrid, who has pinkish hair. Of the main three options, I'm guessing that this is probably Kai's room.

People have been quick to diagnose this as a potential BDA image. If that's true, I acknowledge that this being Kai's room would be a wild choice, because it would mean that someone other than Kai was found dead in Kai's room. It would be a THH parallel, though! I just think that it's likely to be his because, well, he's in there, and all of the references to flowers seems fitting for his butterfly motif. However, Toshiko's kimono does have flower patterns on it, and flowers also match up with the ~romance~ of the Ultimate Matchmaker. If this is Kai providing a BDA in Toshiko's room, though... maybe Toshiko isn't dodging those first victim allegations.

If it's not a BDA, though, what is Kai pointing at? Imagine if it's just a spider or something, lol. He does look pretty worried, so perhaps this could be the arrival of something like DRDT's custom weapons? If a weapon suddenly appeared in my room a the killing game, I'd be kind of worried. It could also be a mysterious note, as (spoilers) we're about to see a few of in this trailer.

One cute(?) thing to mention is that, if this is Kai's room, it likely means that Kai was willing to invite Damon into his room to check whatever this is out. That could mean that they're friends! It's not cute if this is actually a BDA. It's also not cute if Kai is becoming Damon's friend just so that it hurts more when he dies in Chapter 1 :(

Woah, it's a note! (/j)

This and the image directly before it in the trailer seem to be of the same thing: a piece of paper that says "to Damon Maitsu" on it. Or, it's possible that the first one just says "Damon Maitsu" and this one says "to Mr. Maitsu"-- they look a little different, although the handwriting seems identical. I don't think there's any paper conspiracy for me to crack here.

To my memory, the prologue included some flashback CGs, so I would imagine that's what's happening here, unless Damon actually kept his Eden's Garden acceptance letter on his person (possible). It could also be a new letter that Damon receives during the course of the killing game if, as I posited, Kai was pointing out a letter he received in his room.

And furthermore, more note content? Why is this hypothetical piece of paper more visible in the trailer than Toshiko?! (/j)

Or, maybe it isn't. This note seems to read, "Meet in [???] at 8:10 p.m. tonight [???] Damon Maitsu." Due to the spacing of the words-- namely, that it doesn't seem like there's much more to this message beyond what we can see-- this paper appears to be pretty small. Combined with the color, I predict that this note is, in fact, sticky. And therefore, not the same as the piece of paper (which also has a different ink color) as the other note.

Further extrapolating from the spacing, the note looks like it's signed "-- Damon Maitsu". Otherwise, there would need to be a word before Damon, the end of which has no letters tall enough to appear next to the D. (It's LGI's "Ms. Naegi" crisis all over again... /ref) If so, that means that we might have an example of Damon's handwriting on our hands! Or the handwriting of someone who was trying to impersonate Damon :/

I wish we had a better lead on where this note was telling folks to meet up, but it's way too vague.

Then, yet another piece of paper! It's definitely different than the yellow one, and probably different from the signed one as well, due to being typed and not handwritten. Then again, sometimes typed letters have a handwritten signature at the bottom, so it's not impossible.

This text's formatting reminds me of how scripts are normally written: both the font and the center alignment are used in standard scriptwriting formats. I actually at first thought that everything after "beneath a" might have been spoken by a character whose name starts with L, but that would mean that their dialogue starts with a lowercase letter. Plus, names on scripts are usually written more like this (imagine it's centered):

LINDSAY beneath a [shoulder] If only [head]

in the sense that the character speaking's name is in all caps. There appears to be a lowercase i after the capital L, so it's probably not a name.

Still, that begs the question of why the top line is so much shorter than the one beneath it. In a normal passage, all of the lines would have relatively even margins other than possibly the last one. Could the wonky spacing be indicative of a poem, or something else written in verse? Due to the script/poem idea, I'm inclined to believe this belongs to the ever-dramatic Tozu, but I could be wrong.

Next is another CG, depicting Damon, Cassidy, and a sneaky Jean in the background. Based on the shape of Damon's ahoge, we can tell he's a little annoyed or flustered by whatever Cassidy is pointing at.

The wallpaper pattern we see in the background is that of the Dining Hall. Do NOT ask me how I remembered this offhand, because I don't know.

Furthermore, based on the wall being to the characters' left, it's likely that they're standing on the left side of the room. (It's possible in reality that it could be anywhere else in the room in front of the wallpaper only, but based on cinematography rules I won't bother explaining this is probably the case.) So, what is Cassidy pointing at? It could be the fireplace, the painting of the jackal, or the vent. Or, obviously, something new that appears in the Dining Hall in Chapter 1.

Based on my theories that the vent will be involved in the Chapter 1 murder, I'm inclined to believe that it might be what Cassidy's pointing out. If that's true, it means that she (and Jean) (and Damon) is dodging the Chapter 1 victim allegations! However, given that the characters are looking upwards, unless they're on the floor, it's probably not actually the vent. Maybe it's something on the fireplace mantle?

Also, based on straight vibes and nothing else, I don't think this is a serious CG. It might just be that it reminds me of v3's casino CG, but I kinda feel like Cassidy is just trying to teach Damon a game while Jean watches, or something. Projector on the Dining Hall walls? "It's more likely than you think," I lie.

The next six images consist of three spooky screenshots of what seem to be some sort of database which say "Ultimate" (and a picture of Damon), and three zoom-ins on what I believe to be paintings found around the school.

The only one I found of particular note was this one, which sort of looks like two people getting married? Both figures seem to have light skin, and the one in the white dress might have some shoulder-length red hair. Cassidy marriage arc??? I can't imagine what context this photo/painting/CG would appear in, but it might be important.

After that a few illustrations depicting the killing game's rules flash by. I won't be uploading all of them because 1) you can probably guess at most already if you're familiar with DR/fangans, and 2) I think these might have been shown in the demo anyways. To sum up, I think the rules can be attributed as such:

Tozu is in charge (and/or participation in the killing game is mandatory)

No destroying school property, with a focus on cameras and NG bracelets

You can't kill/injure Tozu or Mara*

Students can become the blackened by killing

Once a dead body is found, it's time for a Class Trial

... The same thing again? Oh, maybe #5 was about how to trigger a BDA, then.

Um...

Okay, actually, I don't know what this one is. Is this saying that you can't rip paper, or you'll get executed? As in, papers that Tozu gives you? Dude, maybe my "Tozu gives the students mysterious letters" theory actually had some merit to it!

If not that, could this be something about breaching contracts? The Prologue did mention "registration materials" that Damon presumably signed. Those could have been a cover-up for a real waiver the students accidentally accepted. Or, maybe this is the big reveal that all of the characters are actors in a scripted performance. In Chapter 1? Yeah, probably not.

*Technically, only Tozu (who stands between Mara and the student) has an X over him, which could imply that it's only illegal to harm Tozu. However, it's likely that, when the rule is revealed in the e-Handbook, the graphic will cycle between Xs on Mara and Tozu, or something else to that effect. It would be interesting if the rules don't protect Mara, though. I'd imagine the in-universe explanation would be "see what happens if you even TRY to hurt Mara," but that would absolutely feel like a rule intended by the writers to be broken in the future.

I'm sure someone could do a super in-depth analysis of the religious implications of this painting, but that person is not me. All I will say is, "these are the animals of Mara and Tozu." Oh, and, based on the next image, this painting is located in Pharmacy 1.

New locations! Like I alluded to above, the first image is definitely of Pharmacy 1, and I think the second is too.

The third is a bit harder to decipher. We've got a glowing photocopier with an Eden's Garden Academy logo on it, a tiled floor, many green cabinets, a medical kit, and lots of vines. I wonder if this might be a third pharmacy that functions more like a doctor's office...? I don't know what the photocopier is there for in that case, though. I'm assuming that the location behind Jett in the fourth image is in the same room due to the similar green cabinets, and the fact that you can see a similar first aid kit on the wall behind him. If that's the case, there's also a sink in this room. That's not helping me either.

After that, we have a shot of Jean with a proposition in the Dining Hall, some general purposes art which I think we've seen before, and a slick 3D animation with Damon catching a fallen apple. What do they have in common? I don't have much to say about any of them.

Free Time time! Or, at least, I'm assuming that Ulysses' part is part of his first FTE, given that it was packaged in with all this other stuff. With this, we can conclude that Ulysses, Wenona, and Wolfgang will all be available for at least one FTE in Chapter 1. I am very curious about that in general-- with this first chapter release, will we immediately be able to view all of everyone's FTEs? Or will they cap everyone off at, like, two for now? Unfortunately, there's no way for me to answer that now.

The other three images are more intriguing. The first definitely shows Damon's gift inventory, with the Black Forest Cake being highlighted. The interesting bit is all of the chibi pixels to the side, with positive and negative arrows by some of their heads. At first, I thought that P:EG might be going for something like SDRA2's ambitious FTE system, where characters have positive or negative opinions on you based on actions you take and gifts you give. However, on further thought, I bet that this is an in-game way of telling you who will like which gifts. As far as I can tell, many people either look up which gifts to give which characters or save-scum until they get something right, so taking guessing out of the equation is probably a good thing. Plus, now we know that Diana, Jett, Toshiko, Mark, Wolfgang, Cassidy, Desmond, Eloise, and Kai like cake; Grace, Ingrid, and Wenona don't; and Damon, Jean, Ulysses, and Eva are neutral. It's an extra good system if it gives us insight into Damon as well!

The second is surely P:EG's equivalent of the Monomono Machine, with Damon receiving a zen garden from the funky hourglass contraption. The interesting part to me is that the currency is named Marabucks instead of Tozubucks. Yay for inclusivity? Also, I think it's fun that the percentage reads "1,13%" instead of the standard American "1.13%". (And P:EG seems to be, on the whole, an American-coded game, given that the majority of the characters speak in American-accented English and the cast's live appearance was in Texas.) Gives you a little behind the scenes peek at who was coding this section of the game :)

The last thing... uh, what? It seems to be a Pong-like minigame, probably used to earn bonus Marabucks. You bounce the "orbs" through the "pachinko" to... I guess score points against Mara and Tozu? And, probably if you do well enough, you get varying levels of money. Perhaps I spoke too soon, and the Marabuck is simply the lesser Tozubuck.

Up next comes some dramatic zoom-ins through those spiffy remodeled locations. I appreciate them jazzing up the "outdoor" area specifically; the lack of polygons in the doorway arch always bugged me. Even if they kept those similarly unbeveled shapes in the archways to the side... (/lh)

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

WE GOT SCENES FROM THE CLASS TRIAL?!?!?!

To clear the elephant in the room, as everyone has been reporting, Toshiko is the only student who can't be seen in the Class Trial at all. Does that mean she's dead? Uh, probably not. As part of a mystery-writing team, I would have to imagine that whoever crafted this trailer would be smart enough to know that their mystery-loving fans would comb through whatever they're given for answers (hi 👋). And, if there's one to be found, they'd find it. Therefore, I'm more inclined to believe that Toshiko's absence is an intentional red herring. Then again, this is very possibly the P:EG team's first time writing a fangan, so if they didn't think about things like that, it would be understandable.

So, who is dying if everyone else is present? To me, there's a big gulf between how easy it would be to fake someone's participation in the Class Trial. Subbing out a death portrait for a regular sprite is easy, recording a fake line of dialogue is a bit more effort, and creating original artwork is really not worth the effort. Thus, we can divide the characters into tiers.

ORIGINAL ART (basically guaranteed safe) Damon, Wenona VOICE ACTING (very likely to be safe) Diana, Grace, Wolfgang, Jean, Eva SPRITE VISIBLE (possibly most endangered) Mark, Desmond, Kai, Ingrid, Ulysses, Eloise, Cassidy, Jett TOTALLY ABSENT (reverse psychology safety???) Toshiko

Damon's unique minigame sprite and Wenona's Rebuttal Showdown art appearing over his face should also squash the rumors that Damon will be replaced before the first Class Trial at least, lol.

Within those tiers, I also want to highlight two outliers: Wolfgang and Eva. Because, of course it's those two.

Although Wolfgang is in the voice acting tier, in reality, I'd say he should be moved upward into the "basically guaranteed safe" tier. This is because his line is shown in Nonstop Debate format as opposed to the regular dialogue format. Although his lines don't have the animated word art thing going on, I still imagine that it would be easier to create a fake line in the regular dialogue boxes than in the minigame. Also, notice that I said lineS. Wolfgang also has two lines, and unless the team is really yanking our chains, I can't see why they would create two fake lines when one would surely suffice.

Meanwhile, while Eva is in the voice acting tier, she's bordering on the "possibly most endangered" tier. It may just be my "Eva could die first" bias speaking, but her line is a whole lot shorter and less specific than Diana's, Grace's, or Jean's. In fact, if you remove the comma, "obviously the case" could easily be one of her stock dialogue lines that plays over unvoiced portions of the Daily Life. If the team were to create a fake piece of dialogue for the Class Trial, sneakily repurposing a line that already exists for other purposes would be the most efficient way to do so.

Expanding on that, what is "obviously, the case" supposed to mean here? I'll once again draw attention to that comma. Grammatically, it's not that some truth is "obviously the case," but that the case is the thing that's obvious. In what context is Eva saying that, though?

Jett: Uhhh, sorry, what are we supposed to be focusing on again...? Eva: Obviously, the case.

Or, could a physical case, like a briefcase, be relevant to the murder?

Grace: But what could the killer have used to fucking store a disguise?! Eva: Obviously, the case.

The only thing I'm remembering offhand that could be a physical case is the medical kit, but obviously there are plenty of locations and props for this Chapter we haven't seen yet. At any rate, Eva's dialogue raised a flag for me. So, I'll be scrutinizing any cases we may see or any pre-Trial words Eva speaks when the Chapter comes out.

Also, Diana and Grace might be a bit safer than Jean and Eva because what Grace is saying seems to be a response to Diana. They both mention peace, and Desmond is striking the same pose in both of their shots. I doubt that the P:EG team would either record Diana expressing the same sentiment that someone else actually expresses, or come up with a fictitious response from Grace that doesn't actually exist. If you want to get really nitty-gritty about it, consider that tier as ranking Wolfgang as the most safe, then Grace, Diana, Jean, and then Eva :)

Under the dual assumptions that Toshiko is a red herring while Eva's dialogue is genuine (such that both of them are safe), though, who's the most likely victim from our "sprite visible" tier?

Well, the only victim option left from my Chapter 1 Killer/Victim theory is Kai. Fan-favorite first victim choice Cassidy is also on the table. Otherwise, I could see Ulysses, given that (if he's not the mastermind) he gives BIG victim energy with his notetaking becoming a central aspect of solving his Trial. I'd expect they'd save a gimmick like that for a later Trial, where it could better be used to shake up the status quo, but I could see it as a good intro case too. I could also see someone taking Desmond out if they were afraid of his weapon-wielding capabilities, although that's... kinda backwards thinking. Desmond's capability to kill is scary if you're trying to kill him, but it doesn't offer much in the Class Trial.

Still kinda convinced it's gonna be Eva, but I'm aware enough to recognize that's probably just the stubbornness of wanting to believe that my old theory was true.

Speaking of old theories coming true, can we rewind for a moment?

Jean: ...but, I'd rather be suspected than be the reason this trial comes to a standstill.

Hey. WHAT.

For anyone who hasn't read/forgot about the Chapter 1 victim/killer theory I just linked, in that post, I argued my case for why Jean would be our unexpected Chapter 1 killer. Needless to say, when I saw this, I screamed.

What does this MEAN?!?! Full disclosure, I was pretty convinced that the Jean!killer theory would either be, like, 100% on the money, or laughably incorrect to the level of accidentally misinterpreting Jean's entire personality or there not even being a hint of suspicion thrown on his name throughout the entire case. To see Jean acknowledging others' suspicion of him in the TRAILER has me reeling.

Assuming that this line isn't fake (which also guarantees that Jean isn't the first victim), this means that there will be a point in the Trial at which Jean will be suspected as the blackened. The line itself could easily be something that a sympathetic and honest spotless would say, or something that a blackened could say pretending to be just that, so we don't get any hints there. What reason would Jean have to be suspected if he isn't the killer? Why and how would anyone choose to frame him? But also, would the P:EG team really want to have their players go into the first Trial already primed to believe that Jean could be the blackened based on the trailer? I feel like this line was included as a cruel (/lh) trick on me specifically, but my theory wasn't nearly infamous enough to warrant that kind of attention.

It's absolutely going to be eyes on Jean for me when the first Chapter comes out. I'm so curious to see the context surrounding this quote. Did I actually call it early? Or will the "evidence" that I stacked up actually prove to make Jean a believable bait, but not the real blackened? (wouldn't be the first time :P /j)

Moving on, there's a very dramatic scene of Tozu looking over the Trial grounds, while Damon looks back. I double checked, and everyone is visible (in silhouette form) in this shot, which makes sense as it was likely created solely for this spoiler-free promotional material. In my mind, the only clues we can pick up here are that Damon is further cementing himself as the true protagonist of this story. He also blocks out Wolfgang as he looks at Tozu...? Could have symbolic significance, but could also just be a result of the pair being opposite each other in the Class Trial seating.

After that is another fast-paced montage. The first screen is the same shot of the Pharmacy table. I don't know why they put repeat info in here, but as far as I can tell, all of the props and textures and whatnot are the same. If my assessment that the murder would utilize the Dining Hall vent is wrong, I wonder if this could be a hint that Pharmacy A especially will have significant meaning-- possibly, as the site of the first BDA. That being said, they also repeat the same image of the photocopier ivy room as the third image in this montage. So, if that's the case, it means both locations will have to be highly relevant.

I feel like this image out of context looks really NSFW. I promise, that was not my intention...

Anyways, this is from the Prologue BDA.

It's Cara's doll legs, as is made extra apparent by that same cylindrical thing in the back. I'm not sure if this was put here because the Prologue case will continue to be really relevant to Chapter 1, or just because they wanted a BDA-looking thing for the Trailer yet didn't want to put in a spoiler one. Based on the different size/shape of Cara's thighs (now I feel NSFW /j), there is a slight possibility that what's shown in the Chapter 1 trailer is (an image of) the real Cara's body as opposed to the doll. However, we know that some sprites and backgrounds have been redone during the hiatus, and that could extend to Cara's art as well.

This knife is also from the Prologue BDA.

You think you're so clever, P:EG team, don't you...? (/lh)

Can you believe the students are going to investigate area alpha in Chapter 1? Or maybe this is Damon telling me I'm wrong about that, haha.

Hey, they rigged a 3D Tozu model! It's looking good. I'm sure they're glad that Tozu's mask meant that they don't have to make a whole mouth rig for the guy, lol. My guess is that this model will be used for Tozu's "punishment time" animation, the equivalent of Monokuma hitting his button with the mallet.

The last thing of note in this trailer (other than the release date) is the Chapter's splash art! The full version was posted to Twitter, which I'll be showing for clarity's sake.

“Strange that one minor event, one small action, can alter the path of everything.”

... You gotta start dodging these allegations better, Cassidy.

Chapter promo art predictions are always a tricky game when it comes to predicting who will die. On the creator's end, I'm sure you don't want to draw additional attention to your first deaths by spotlighting them in the artwork. But, if you want to highlight some of the most important characters of the chapter, that'll often include the victim and/or killer if the Daily Life is well-crafted. Plus, especially for early deaths like these, if you don't put them in the chapter art early, you'll never have to chance.

But, forget all that. Who's actually shown in the poster? Obviously, Damon, Jett, and Cassidy are, but I believe that Wenona's jacket and hair are shown to the left of Damon? If you squint, you can also make out what might be Ingrid's arm on his right. That would be consistent with where he's seated in the Class Trial. Yeah, and then that weird blob behind Wenona is actually Jean and Eva!

See what I mean? Well, if we have 7 characters on the poster, maybe it's not so suspicious for any of them after all :D

And, really, it's 8 characters. I imagine others have made this connection already (even if I haven't personally seen it), but... that's a chameleon wrapping its way around Damon. AKA, Diana's animal motif. That means that Diana is more or less on this poster as well!

As the literal framing device of the Class Trial, the chameleon makes this poster reek of Diana being the Chapter 1 killer. However, even that feels too obvious, at least to my highly-scrutinous eyes. Then again, if this was just supposed to communicate that Diana will be important, why not just put her on the poster...? I really don't know what to make of it.

And... yeah, December 20th! I'm super excited!!! While we're certainly not in a drought of in new and exciting fangans nowadays (read Danganronpa: One Shot here!), productions of this scale-- especially playable ones-- are few and far between, so I really hope that this first Chapter lives up to the hype. I'm pretty sure I'll have more to say about this fangan in a few weeks, so I'll see y'all then for Project: Eden's Garden's true beginning!

...

(Honestly, after all this time in the DRDT fandom, it's just crazy to me that we're going to learn about the victim and killer at basically the same time... (/lh))

[alexanderwales]

Addendum to the post about Stardew Valley type games:

You know how in games like that, everyone has their set daily routine that changes according to the days of the week, the seasons, etc.?

I think it would be fun to have a game that's just that. You can see what path everyone walks and what they do every day, it's all lines on the ground to you from a bird's eye view: these people are creatures of habit. But their daily routines aren't just something that happens, it's also something that affects them. Bridget spends every day going to stare out at the sea, and it makes her a little bit more sad every day, because it reminds her of her father, who passed away when she was little. Nathan searches for bugs in the woods, hoping that if he gets the right one, he can bring it to show the woman who runs the museum.

So in some sense, this is a train game, but with people instead of trains. Everyone is on their tracks, and possibly there are interrupts to their schedules, but mostly what you're doing is nudging the tracks in various ways and trying to minmax their social interactions and routines.

So if Bridget is staring out at the beach feeling lonely and sad, you can nudge Nathan to go hunt bugs there instead of in the woods, and if you nudge him correctly, he'll end up at the beach at the same time Bridget is doing her mope session. And then, because it would be weird for them to both be at the beach in silence, they get to talking, and their little friendship meter or whatever fills up. And then, at some particular threshold, you get a notification that their routing has changed. The lines on the ground are redrawn, the schedule is updated, and Bridget and Nathan are friends now, and there's no reason for her to be at the beach anymore, because that lonely void has been filled. In the new routing, Nathan and Bridget hunt bugs in the woods together, hoping to find an interesting one but mostly just hanging out.

Your goal is to make everyone as happy as you can.

There's a lot that I'm still trying to work out here, I had the idea five minutes ago. For one thing, I'm not sure how the player should actually go about adjusting the routes. I guess I'm envisioning it like what Google Maps shows you, where you have multiple routes and can select different ones. Or maybe there's an option to change the destination sometimes, if it's one where the actual location doesn't matter. Kids will always have to go to school, but their mother has a choice of different part-time jobs so long as she's making a little extra income, so you can route her to either the doctor's office where she'll be a receptionist or to the mayor's house where she'll clean up. Some routes are therefore locked down hard for various reasons, while others are more flexible. And as the game goes on, which is which will change: someone who sort of didn't care where he was whiling away his time will get a job that's very important to him, two lovebirds will want to spend all their time together, but the carpenter divorces his wife and suddenly has a lot of free time on his hands, or the electrician finally finishes fixing the lighthouse and now is just sort of waiting on orders.

The other major question is how much we're exposing to the player in terms of the whys of our little train-schedule people. I think trying to do this with any more text than a handful of cutscenes would be a fool's errand, and instead you'd want to abstract it out as much as possible. Characters would have Motivations, Goals, Tasks they're making progress on each day, Friendships, Romances, and in general you should be able to look at their route and say "okay, this is motivated by this, this is motivated by that". I think Friendship Points are a kind of ridiculous concept, but they would work here, with each "stop" on the route adjusting friendships and romances up or down on the scale. Tasks gain some completion with every route completion, which is another way the game progresses forward.

The last major question is ... how do you build this? How do you create a town of thirty or so people with their own individual routes in such a way that a player can figure things out and be satisfied with each small solution? Because this is sort of a puzzle game, and as laid out here, it's the same "board" the whole way through, with everything interlocking. I think maybe you could map out the early game pretty easily, solve some trivial problems with a bit of extra routing, have everything else "locked" and unknown to limit scope, but I'm unsure how you advance past that.

Perhaps there's a version of this game where everyone has their routes but we're only looking at tiny slices of the whole town at a time, two or three routes that we can figure out. Maybe there's a man who doesn't care what his job is, so we make him the teacher, which frees up a woman to take a different job she loves, which means that she winds up in the gardens after work and meets a gardener we diverted there, and together they start a pottery club, which becomes a new event that people can be diverted to.

And at the end of the game, everyone is in the job they're best suited for, you've made people couple up, you've fixed all the problems, and the little clockwork town is humming along.

[moodymisty]

Could you please write something with Sevatar? That man needs to get slapped around uwu

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Wearing a shirt that says 'Number 1 Jago Sevatarion whore' on it: Yeah I'm normal.

Summary: Jago Sevatarion really likes one of the Salamander's humans.

Relationships: Jago "Sevatar" Sevatarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vague references to NSFW, The consent is dubious so tw dubcon, Violence, Stalking, Predator/Prey kinda dynamics, General 40kness, Stockholm syndrome?, Kinda Yandere maybe?, If you don't know what you're getting into reading this then I dunno what to fucking tell you like it's a Night Lord I can only woobify him so much

Word Count: 1140

It has been tense as of late, to say the least. As much as that word fails to illustrate in context, it's the only one you can think of to use.

To have Night Lords present has been nothing but a battle to keep tensions low enough in order to keep things productive, and to avoid fights between the Astartes from breaking out at seemingly every opportunity. These fights can be between the apposing legions, or even just between the Eighth themselves.

It doesn't help that the Night Lords are often times seen baiting them- taunting barking goading a Salamander to throw the first punch. They seem to crave it, most of them.

Every baseline human aboard has done everything within their power to avoid crossing paths with Astartes in deep blue armor, adorned with smatterings of blood red. Particularly when not in sight of a Salamander. There has been more than a few times where a serf or other baseline human has managed to scurry into sanctuary within a Salamander's line of sight, and in the distance a Night Lord prowls; Discontent with his prey, or toy perhaps, finding safety in the light. They will soon after find something else to occupy their time, leaving the human no longer needing to look over their shoulder. But only for the moment.

You don't have that option. Because not only have you already gotten caught, the one that caught you is smart.

He knows where you would try to hide, every single little rat hole you could try and squeeze yourself in, and he knows that even if you did flee to one of your massive protectors, he would put up a far stronger fight than any of the other Night Lords. His persistence alone sets him apart. Why did he pick you? Out of so many, why you?

It's like being hunted. But not the chase; The conclusion, when the predator decides to bat around it's prey like a toy as it squeals, begging for a mercy it won't receive.

If you screamed, would someone come? Would they be able to free you from him, or would he simply kill them and have you all alone again?

But why won't the scream leave your throat? It's like he's choking you with just his presence.

You can hear ceramite plates grind against each other as he shifts in his armor, the hissing of it's mechanics left hand pinning your right arm against the wall. It hurts bad, it'll surely be bruised and aching, radiating pain as a remnant and reminder that this isn't some sort of horrid nightmare.

He finally caught you. After so long of managing to evade the massive Astartes, him stalking the shadows outside of your safety and watching you with those void black eyes like you have something he wants, he finally sank his claws in you. He'd been toying with you for what felt like weeks, swimming around you and trying to reach out and grab only for you to pull away, and he'd laugh. Call you little. Say your name that he'd stolen after overhearing it in a way that had you swallowing a knot deep in your throat. You could only avoid it so long- for every step you took away, took he took two closer.

Many of the Astartes are currently having their five hours of designated rest- there is no one to save you in this particular hall save for the rare guard.

His other hand grips your jaw, making sure your face can't turn away from him. Your free hand paws at his wrist, and each time your fingers slip off the armor despite trying to latch onto the seams you can see the amusement cast on his face.

Is it because he likes the way your hand is too small to grip, unable to fight against someone so much larger, unfathomably stronger, or because you're squirming like sweet prey under his pitch black gaze?

You just wish he'd get on with it. To stop toying with you, making your heart pound against your ribcage. To make your skin so hot that it travels up your neck as if moving to choke you. Fear swallows you in a way that makes you freeze- even if he hadn't been holding you, you doubt you could call on your legs to run and not fall right over to your knees.

He's never gotten this close before.

His lips brush against yours like the touch of a ghost, his breath boiling hot on your skin. You can just feel the rough skin of the scar that rips across the right side of his mouth, warping the skin. It's one of many that decorate what little skin of his is visible. When he shifts, you can hear his helm hit his thigh plate from where it's attached to his belt.

"Well?"

He's so close you can barely see his eyes, and you don't want to. When ever he looks at you if feels like he's piercing you to the wall. His dark eyes and slicked black hair contrast with the paleness of his complexion, as he watches your every move.

"I can smell that fear on you."

His words lay over you like a hot, rough blanket.

"But don't think I'm stupid enough to not smell something else."

He's not gentle- neither with his words or the way his hands grip your arms pressing against the wall. Is this a part of the Madness of the Eighth that seems to hang over their legion? To just want and to take? You know that the Astartes always can with their raw power, but you're so used to the Salamanders and their stoic kindness.

It's your obvious, first thought to try and free yourself, or call for the help of someone not asleep. Though a second thought crosses moments later.

You know you shouldn't do it; He's going to eat you up and spit you out once he's done.

But you're an idiot. One with no options and that finds themselves almost drawn into the black hole that is him.

"W-What is your name?"

He's never said it, and you've never dared ask it to anyone. You feared that once you did, that you'd put yourself deeper into his grip like stepping into a bog- fighting but only sinking farther.

He laughs. Deep, and its gravel hits you in the gut.

"I am Jago Sevatarion."

His exhale smooths over your skin like hot steam; Rough lips once again scraping over yours in an almost kiss. His voice is heavy on your chest, he's not even yelling and it's loud, deep and makes the back of your neck tense. The cold metal of his power armor presses against the skin of your jaw.

"You can call me Sevatar."

[quitealotofsodapop]

I have another long thing in my notes. Honestly, if I'm being too much, just tell me at this point. xD

"Peach -" Macaque pauses, taking in the crouched form of the other monkey as he sits at a cliffside. With a sigh, he continues, "Wukong. What are you doing out here? It's cold! Come back to camp where thenfire can keep you warm."

"I quite like the cold right now, thanks." Wukong replies, back still turned against the shadow, gazing out over the horizon. "It's... it's better."

"Then at least let me get a cloak or, or a blanket for you! The last thing we need is you getting sick in your condition!" Macaque continued to fret, stepping forward only to backpedal as Wukong's fur puffed up and he let out a hiss, venom dripping with every word.

"My condition!? You sure as hell didn't give a rats' ass about that earlier!"

"I didn't know! Wukong I swear, I would never have-"

"That's not an excuse, Six-Eared Macaque!" The king reprimanded, turning to pin him with a burning glare, "You didn't know because you didn't want to! Do not forget that I know your abilities as well as you know mine! If you didn't know today or yesterday you would have known tomorrow all at once!"

"I-" He couldn't answer because Wukong was right. His six ears hearing goes beyond the ability to hear nearly everything, but the ability to hear nearly any time past, present, and future as well. The moment he first heard of the rumors about Wukong being free and rumors of his condition, he could have used his abilities to find out rather than needing to be told midbattle to prevent him from striking Wukong in the stomach. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't want an apology for that, idiot." Wukong grumbled, turning back the horizon, "I wanted my mate! I waited for you, and you didn't come. You ran away, again."

Macaque tensed, suddenly reminded of a cave under a mountain approximately 500 years ago. Wukong wasn't implying what he thought, was he? Was he truly waiting since their fight!?

"That... Wukong I wasn't running away back then!"

"I know. I pushed you away." Wukong said, "This isn't about that. I know who is at fault for that fight we had. What I want to know is why you never returned. Why is it that I went to Flower Fruit Mountain after I was freed to find our people missing both their king and queen? Why was the Jade Court allowed to rampage for so long against our people!? And most importantly... why did you wait until now to reach out to me? I know you knew I was freed years ago. I saw the shadows."

Wukong's voice broke at the last word, blinking his red-gold eyes. There was a particular shine to them as Wukong fiddled with something under his scarf. A cord of black and flash of purple amethyst made Macaque's own heart stop a moment. "I want to know why my mate abandoned everything we swore to protect."

"I..." Macaque swallowed around the lump in this throat, hand unconsciously going to where a cord of orange fur and citrine stone was hidden under his own scarf, "I'm sorry. I- I needed time. Away from... everything. I hadn't known what to do when Erlang was ordered to attack the mountain."

"Five hundred years wasn't enough time to find yourself?"

:eyes: I am looking respectfully

I am LOVING this conflict!

Wukong and Macaque having a very frank discussion on why Mac abandoned their kingdom to pursue his acting dream, leaving the island without a ruler.

Even if Macaque had stayed a few years or came back every so often - whether to "clean house" (ie. take care of hunters) or to return stolen monkey demons he found in the entertainment industry, he still became an absent leader. Macaque hates to admit that he abandoned their kingdom, just as badly as many accuse Wukong of doing when embarked on the Journey

I love the detail of Wukong and Macaque having pendants matching their mate. Still held close to their hearts after so long.

Lots of counselling is required for these two before they are back to married couple-mode.

your writing is so GOOD

[gunilslaugh]

Just so you know you’re my favorite person your writing is amazing♥️ can I please request about how the boys absolutely spoil their partner not even necessarily with money just they favorite way to spoil them

Thank you so much! Here's your request I hope you like it :)

All members = ` • - • ` =

Summary: How Xdinary Heroes spoil you. (idol/non-idol au)

WC:634

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Princess treatment, Gunil is all about treating you the absolute best. He would dote on you in whichever way he could. He always opens things for you; jars, water bottles, snacks, doors. Gunil keeps hair ties, chapstick and whatever else you use frequently in his bag just in case you ever need them. He is constantly looking out for you. You don’t even have to ask for his help because he is already on it. If you ever think that he's being a bit much he will totally step back, but reminds you that he only had good intentions. He keeps a supply of your favorite snacks on hand.

Jungsu

Jungsu loves to dote on you. He may not be as upfront about it though. If he notices your lotion running low he will replace it without saying a word. That goes the same for your other items; chapstick, perfume, shampoo, vitamins. He often fixes your hair or clothes for you. He even carries a comb on him. If he notices you looking at a particular item for a while he will buy it for you. He also likes to send you flowers from time to time. If someone ever called him out for giving you special treatment he would deny it, but he knows it’s true. 

Goan/Jiseok

Blatant with his special treatment towards you. He has no shame in spoiling you. 

“You bought y/n a new hoodie and matching sweatpants, but you couldn’t lend me five dollars for a coffee.” 

“Obviously not. You’re not y/n.” After your dates he will take you out to get ice cream. Whether it be from a shop or convenience store. He’ll leave you random notes telling you that he loves you. He always offers you his shoulder to rest on. He strokes your hair until you fall asleep and tucks you in as well. Not to mention his never ending kisses. 

O.de/Seungmin

Greetings and partings are alway accompanied with hugs and kisses. If he comes home before you he either makes or orders food that he knows you like. He will always let you pick what movie or show the two of you watch. You could pick something that he doesn’t even like, but he won’t say a word about it. Wherever he fixes you a hot beverage he waits till it’s cool enough to drink before bringing it to you. Texts or calls you  multiple times a day just to talk to you sometimes even just to tell you that he loves you.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun basically becomes your personal chef/baker. He is always ready to make your favorite foods or sweet treats. Spends his free time mastering recipes. If he notices your laundry piling up he will do it for you. He even folds your clothes and puts them away. He carries your essential items on him in case you ever need them. Whenever you ask him if he is free to come see you he is practically half way out of the door as he responds. He never wants you to wait on him for too long. Dries your hair for you after a shower.

Jooyeon

Tends to spoil you and himself. Takes you out to a restaurant so you two can have a feast together while laughing and chatting. He has your drink order memorized and will pick it up when he is on his way home from work. He likes to get you random gifts and see the way your face lights up when he gives them to you. He will shower you with affection. Gives you all of his love by clinging to you like a koala. There is no such thing as giving you too many kisses. Will serenade you with his voice.

Taglist: @purplelady85 @odesonnets @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @dazzlinglight

[mint-yooxgi]

Until Your Lungs Give Out - Prologue

Yandere AU & Dystopian AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Sci-fi, Dystopian

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 1,331

Warnings: Minor violence mentioned. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I blame @anyamaris for feeding my ideas, and thus helping me create this. I plan for it to be almost a mix between Resident Evil dystopia (movies, specifically the third) and My Chemical Romance Danger Day's dystopia world. With robots! I really hope you all enjoy this little teaser hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

The crackle of static sounds through your headpiece. The low hum of electricity surrounds you, what’s left of the city’s lights flickering above you as you race down the deserted streets. The heart of the city is a dangerous place, no matter how abandoned it might be. You’ll risk it any day of the week. 

You have to. There’s no other choice.

Long since has the world gone to shit. 

No, no major disease wiped out the planet. No virus that caused people to become the living dead, either. Humans are very much still alive, though their numbers dwindle every day, replaced by the Bots of Life, guaranteeing that people can never truly die. 

These androids are so lifelike, that you cannot easily tell the difference between them and humans unless you are looking for them. Emotions, memories, habits - they are all the same. 

Life Bots, another term for these machines, require a human host. Millions of underground facilities have been made to house the Sacrifices - unlawfully named, in your opinion - for the Bots of Life to thrive. All that’s needed is a specialized pod and a mind link, and humans never have to age again. They can live vicariously through their android counterparts, forever.

Great sale’s pitch! If humans actually got a choice in the matter… 

What’s left of humanity fight to survive, living in hidden suburbs and scraping to get by every day. Every Life Bot is programmed to deliver humans to their intended Sacrificial Pod, destroying what’s left of the living world.

No more hunger. No more strife, chaos, or pain. Only order, and peace.

All things which are easier said than done.

An interesting side effect early Life Bot integrators noticed was how suddenly, members of their family which had undergone the Sacrifice seemed to lose all previous autonomy. The Creator made sure to emphasize his ideals into the Bots of Life, nearly forcing every human associated with one to make the change. He wanted total control over every living human, holding their lives in the palms of his hand for his own gains.

Naturally, the humans rebelled.

War broke out, and now all that remains of the earth above sea level are wastelands. Deserts span more areas than they used to, cracked, dry earth giving way to dead zones not even the Life Bots dare to traverse.

Still, there are those unlucky enough to be forced to live above ground without any protection, unable to have afforded to buy their way into the luxurious underwater cities or air fortresses that had been massed produced for the majority of the upper class and wealthy in society. Those left behind are stranded, lest they be forced to become a Life Bot of their own.

That’s where you come in.

You are one of the last few survivors in this division who still remains on earth, fighting for the human’s survival. Looking out for the stranded is what you do best, and you’ve made taking down Life Bots look like it’s child’s play. Which is exactly why you’re racing to answer the distress call you’ve just received not even a mere five minutes ago. There seems to be one human in particular that keeps sticking his nose into trouble looking for spare parts and supplies. It’s starting to get on your nerves, for he also seems insistent to flirt with you every chance he gets.

Only this time, he’s not alone.

When you originally latched onto the signal, you heard at least three distinct voices calling for help. The noises in the background indicated a fight, so there had to at least have been two more people with them, holding off the Life Bots at the time. You just hope you make it before someone gets hurt. Or worse.

Revving the engine to your motorcycle, you pick up your speed. The distress call came from just around the corner two more blocks up, and from the littered corpses of Life Bots you can see lining the street, you know a fight has just taken place here not that long ago.

Rounding the corner, you skid to a halt.

The screeching of your tires on the asphalt draws the attention of the small group of about eight males that seems to be surrounded on all sides by a small hoard of twenty Life Bots. A few hold makeshift weapons, like broken pipes and a rusted crowbar, while two hold Laftas, specialized stun guns made for subduing the Bots of Life. One practically cowers on the ground amidst the circle of survivors, covering their ears and shaking uncontrollably as his friends surround him as best they can.

The moment you hop off of your bike, you notice a familiar male’s eyes light up, hope dancing on his features. A smile begins to stretch across his features.

A click of your helmet, and it retracts from your face, practically disappearing from sight.

“I told you she would come!” Wooyoung, your resident damsel in distress, and certified pain in your ass, cheers.

“Yeah, yeah,” the tall one with what appears to be a sniper riffle strapped to his back, rolls his eyes. “If we manage to get out of this alive, remind me to give you one of my chocolate bars from my hidden stash.”

The way Wooyoung’s eyes light up even further says it all.

“Can’t go one day without getting yourself into trouble, huh, Gopher?” There’s an almost teasing lilt to your voice despite the disappointed sigh you heave as you spring into action.

Drawing your katana from your back, you unholster your Lafta.

“Guilty.” He chuckles, shrugging lightly.

You get to work, slicing through the Bots of Life as if they were made of silk rather than metal. With your opposite hand, you manage to shoot every target you set your eyes upon, cleaning up this mess in no time. Once finished, you make a show of twirling your sword a few times before sheathing it, shoving your gun back into its holster with a firm thwack.

“There,” you send a firm nod in their direction. “Get yourselves someplace safe before more of them return. I don’t like making multiple pitstops for the same people in the same night.”

You turn around, moving back over towards your bike before a voice calling out to you from behind halts you in your tracks.

“Wait!” 

You spare the unfamiliar male a glance over your shoulder. He seems to have somewhat shaggy black hair, a black and red leather jacket covering his torso. A red birthmark rests beside his left eye.

“How can we ever repay you?”

You offer him a tight smile in return, noticing how more than just Wooyoung seems to be staring at you with wide eyes filled with awe.

“Keep yourselves out of trouble, and you won’t have to.”

The one crouched on the ground finally stands back to his feet. He rests a trembling hand on the shoulder of the male closest to him, who is also wearing a black and red leather jacket, but in a slightly different style.

“Really,” his voice comes out shaky, staring at you through thinly wired glasses. A tattered beige cardigan rests over his shoulders, a stark head of bright blue hair falling over his forehead and almost covering his eyes. “We should be able to do something.”

You huff slightly to yourself in amusement, finally crossing the last few steps to your motorcycle.

“Don’t worry about it.”

With a smooth movement, your leg is tossed over the seat, the engine revving to life. A click to your ear, and your helmet has rematerialized.

A final nod is sent their way before you’re racing back down the street, on the hunt for any more distress calls that might come your way for the night.

That is the last they see of you for two weeks, until your entire worlds come crashing down.

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 6: My youth is a scab: under it is a wound that leaks blood

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ��Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Astarion and Ban make their first move in reconnecting with her past.

Professionally edited and collaborated on by my dearest friend <3 @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Astarion and Ban, by @dafna-winchester

Walking through the artisans’ shops beneath the palace was always an interesting thing, but Ban found herself rather distracted today. Arms linked with her husband’s, she allowed her mind to drift as he handled most of the conversation, chatting amiably and at great length with each artisan they encountered, moving from display to display, eventually pausing to consider commissioning yet another portrait of the two of them.

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“I’ll have to consult my wife about the pose,” Astarion told the artist. “It’ll be on the throne, of course, but I do feel like a slightly different atmosphere would serve to make this piece unique.” He tapped the sketch. “We’ll discuss it and I shall reconvene with you.”

He led her away, making a beeline for the cobbler’s guild’s shop, likely to ask for a fresh pair of wyrmhide shoes to be made.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get a couple pairs this time, in case you keep soaking them.” She quipped, watching his lip curl in feigned irritation.

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes. “One day you’ll wake up to find all your clothes in the fountain. We’ll see how you feel then.”

“I’d be perfectly fine walking around naked,” she teased, and he coughed, stifling a small laugh.

“If only your skill in transforming was as good as your mouth,” he retorted. There was a quick, failed attempt to smack him on the arm; he caught it quickly and kissed her hand instead, smirking.

“I just started a tenday ago!” she insisted, but she knew he was right. There needed to be more effort in it, though she found herself uninterested. If they were to live forever there would inevitably be more instances where it would be much needed.

Astarion merely huffed in amusement, letting go of her hand.

Ban was all too content to let Astarion continue mingling, her thoughts flitting back to their practice sessions. It hadn’t been easy at all - as someone who prided herself on her martial prowess, any sort of magic had always felt unnecessary, a challenge that she never put any effort into mastering. Why learn to cast spells, when cold steel got the job done?

It was unsurprising then, that so far every effort to successfully turn into mist had failed. She’d done a little better in turning into a bat - a tiny, gray-furred version of herself, she lamented - but flying without panicking had eluded her. She’d been lucky; Astarion had taken to catching her whenever she’d inevitably dropped out of the air like a rock, squealing as if her life was on the line.

He’d always chide her, reminding her that she could simply transform back mid-fall, but he always caught her anyway; every time, without fail. She smiled softly at a particular memory: when she’d flown further than she’d ever managed before. Overcome with excitement at her success, she’d turned to look at him, and realized just how far she’d flown. She could barely see him, his lithe form hardly more than a smudge in the distance. Seeing him so far away had deeply unnerved her. Panic had flooded her and the rhythm of her wingbeats had faltered. She’d screeched in terror, plummeting towards the ground.

He’d crossed the distance in an instant, her tiny furred belly landing in his delicate hands yet again. Ban wasn’t sure she’d ever felt more safe than in that moment.

The cobbler seemed happy to have received a work order for five pairs of shoes, all wyrmhide but dyed in various shades - his usual black, vermillion, a deep blue, an emerald green, and white. The last one amused Ban; for someone so concerned about the state of their clothing, white would be challenging.

The next stop was for jewelry, it seemed. Astarion chatted with the jeweler while eyeing the selection. Ban’s eyes roamed over the pieces on display, too preoccupied to register much of anything. Eventually, he dangled a large pair of earrings up towards the light, admiring the large rubies set into them. Ban looked on, watching them swing merrily from her husband’s fingers, the stones sparkling. Rubies, just like his eyes, just like-

Arlette’s favorite necklace. The ruby in it was nowhere near the size of these, but Ban remembered it all too well. Once, she’d tried it on and dropped it, the necklace quickly disappearing into the thick carpet of their home. She’d cried, knowing Arlette would be upset, and had Roderich been home, there would undoubtedly be yet another session of “corrections”. Adrien had come to her rescue, crawling on hands and knees with her to find the necklace before Arlette came into the room.

Adrien. Astarion had noted something off about the way Roderich had spoken about him.

The thought of seeing her parents, of the decision she’d made a month ago, still hangs heavy, but she felt like it must be done for him - for Adrien. They weren’t the closest of siblings, but still. He’d suffered under Roderich’s hand too, under Arlette’s blind eye. After everything that led to the fight with the Netherbrain, the idea of freeing her brother from their parents felt relatively easy. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

Astarion seemed to finally notice her silence.

“Love?” He asked, handing the earrings back to the jeweler to place in a little box. “Is something the matter?”

She opened her mind in response, sending him images: of her and Adrien as children, playing amongst the mirrors, of the incident with their mother’s necklace. Memories, few but all the more precious for it, of moments of peace - where they were simply siblings and friends, a brief respite from the horrors of their daily lives. Then her thoughts, as nebulous and unformed as they were; no concrete plan, simply a need to know how her brother is doing and to pry him away from her parents’ clutches, if possible.

He fell silent, taking the now-wrapped box and pressing it into her hands before continuing their slow walk through the shops.

“I had surmised as much,” he said quietly. As she tucked the box into her pocket he thinks, a small crease formed on his brows. “You did say you thought you should see them. I wondered, when nothing further came of that, but I did not want to press. We could…” he paused to admire a pocketwatch from yet another artisan, holding it up by the chain, “invite them to dinner. I assume you’d rather have them here in the palace than have us at the shop, or your old home?”

Ban nodded. “Would give us an advantage.”

“Not that we need it,” Astarion reminded. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his pouch; the watch was evidently to his liking. “But if it does provide some semblance of comfort, we shall do so. Encounters like that, when held in locations that remind you of unpleasant memories,” his eyes scanned the massive room, the former dungeons, and sighed, “are rarely pleasant. I’d love nothing more than to spare you that.”

She couldn’t help but lean against him, pressing a small, grateful kiss to his cheek. “We need to go see my father in the shop, at the least, to invite them.”

Astarion sat in the carriage, Ban’s hand clasped in both of his; she was sitting opposite him, both of them leaning forward. He hated seeing her nervous, her hands feeling colder than usual - not a common occurrence now that she’s undead - and restless. Her fingers twitched and he held them tighter, rubbing his warmer palms against hers. “Let me remind you one last time, Ban. You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to, if only to close that chapter of my life,” she said, eyes locked onto his, as if he was the font from which she drew strength. A rare occurrence - the reverse had been true most of the time, especially before - but a cherished one.

They had a plan, yes, but plans are always changeable, are they not? “The offer is always open, of course. Say the word, and we can just… end all this nonsense.” In an attempt to cheer her up Astarion grinned, playfully baring a hint of fang. She instead closed the gap, kissing him hard. She was all teeth and aggression, her fang nicking his lip on accident. The taste of his own blood stirred a little hunger in him but even more so in her; the way her tongue slipped in and licked the blood told him all he needed to know.

As she devoured his mouth he rubbed her arms, trying to soothe. She soon broke the kiss, eyes wide and a little unfocused. “I’m ready,” she said, pitch a little high. Nodding, Astarion opened the carriage door and stepped out, holding out his arm to help his wife down.

In front of them the store loomed, a little too ominous for such a humble structure, and Ban almost seemed to shrink before it.

Biting back the nearly overwhelming urge to charge in and destroy everything in sight, Astarion laced his fingers through hers. He offered her one last comforting smile, and led the way in.

“Lord Ancunín,” Roderich said, looking up as Astarion sauntered in, rising to provide a cursory bow. When he noticed the woman walking in behind the nobleman, he went pale, standing ramrod straight, frozen as if paralyzed.

Ban, too, had met her father’s gaze. Her hand tightened around Astarion’s, squeezing almost painfully. She briefly tugged on his arm, then schooled herself. What would her father think if she tucked tail right now?

Better yet, why did she care what Roderich thought?

“Ban?” Roderich gasped, the shock holding him in place seemingly subsiding. He took two aggressive steps toward them, and Ban flinched slightly. Astarion, noticing her discomfort, shifted, placing himself between the two.

“Master Glasscraft,” Astarion said icily, “I’d appreciate it if you gave my wife and I some space.”

The man blinked for a second. “W-wife? That’s… that’s my daughter!” For a moment it seemed like Roderich intended to proceed anyway, that he’d attempt to push past Astarion. Instead he took a moment to regard the cold crimson eyes watching him, the way those cruel-looking lips were curled - ready to strike with the slightest provocation - and thought the better of it. “My lord,” he said, tone suddenly conciliatory, “you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to see my daughter again.”

Ban, who until this moment had been perfectly content allowing Astarion to take the lead, placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sent a small thought from her mind to his - thank you, my love, but I can handle it.

Immediately he backed off, giving her a small nod. A small wave of gratitude reached her; he’s thankful she’d allowed him into her mind as she confronts her past. With it, however, is a small hint of resentment, one that made her raise her eyebrow at Astarion, but she says nothing for the moment. She took a step forward, letting go of his hand, straightening up to face Roderich.

“Hello, father,” she gritted out. “It’s… nice, seeing you again. I presume you’ve met my husband, Lord Astarion Ancunín.” Behind her, Astarion gave him a small, sardonic bow.

Ban couldn’t help but feel a swell pride at those words, at her terrible, beautiful beloved; at how far they’d both risen above what they were made for.

Roderich swallowed audibly. “I- yes, my little beauty,” he began, seeing Ban’s expression close off at the nickname, “I have indeed met your… husband. The, um, the esteemed successor to Lord Szarr’s estate!” He clapped his hands together with false mirth. “I am sure you’ve seen the mirror he’s purchased from me? You no doubt know he has good taste. It’s-”

“Silver, full length, inlaid with gold, in typical rococo style,” Ban finished for him; Roderich gave a jaunty nod of approval.

“You remember.” He smiled despite the tension in the room, almost taking a step towards her again before Ban crossed her arms. “I will admit one of our mercury mirrors would have provided a far superior product as you very well know, but as it stands the one Lord Ancunín bought has the best reflection silver can provide. You’ve no doubt seen yourself in it and seen how our mirrors have improved over the past five years.”

She wanted to roll her eyes. Five years she’d been gone, and of course, the first thing he wanted to talk about were the godsdamned mirrors. Ban opened her mouth, whether to either insult her father or humor him she wasn’t sure, but he spoke before she got the chance.

“Little beauty, your mother would be so elated to know you’re back. That you’ve made something of your life, I suppose, despite… our earlier reservations,” Roderich continued. “When you left, we assumed you’d end up in a far worse situation than… this.”

Astarion bristled, but kept his peace for her. He began pacing through the store, walking back and forth in a closed path, hands buried in his pockets - almost like a predator stalking its next kill. There was an edge to his thoughts, one that Ban noticed, but mistakenly attributed to mere indignation at her father’s behavior.

In truth Astarion’s mind churned as he paced, Roderich’s voice ringing in his head. Little beauty. Little beauty… gods.

Countless times he’d called her something similar - his pet. His precious treasure. His little love. He recalled how she’d disliked it, but at the time she’d hated everything else he did - how was he to discern the truth?

This is why I needed to know, he told himself, irritation the first feeling he sank into, a little apprehensive about examining the ones that lurked beneath it. Revulsion, self-hatred, guilt. He’d known that he reminded Ban of her father at times, but this new revelation deeply unnerved him.

She must’ve loathed him, he realized; not that he hadn’t been aware of that, but the depth of it still eluded him. The sheer venom in their relationship had meant he hadn’t really been too concerned by her displeasure. A response was a response after all, and her love had been so absent that he’d craved any sign of emotion. And didn’t she want to be denigrated to some extent, he’d reasoned with himself, just as she’d enjoyed it in bed?

He knew she’d forgiven him, but this made the idea of making amends even more daunting. How could he even begin to atone when even now, more than six months later, he was still unearthing new and horrifying ways he’d inadvertently tortured her with his twisted idea of love?

Ban watched him from the corner of her eye, concerned. Are you alright?

His eyes snapped back to her, and for a moment he looked stricken. As they locked eyes, however, he seemed to relax, visibly taking a deep breath. Perfectly fine; there is no need to concern yourself. His eyes flicked towards Roderich, a silent reminder to focus on the issue at hand.

She turned back to her father. “I daresay I did well by your standards. You wanted me to marry someone rich - that I did. Someone powerful - I did that too. He has both in much greater measure than you could have in your wildest dreams.” She didn’t add in the most important things: that her husband is someone who loves her, who sees her as his equal, someone that she loves beyond reason; there’s no point debating that with Roderich.

There was also the odd omission of her brother; and she wasn’t the only one who noticed. Her eyes flicked over to Astarion again; he gave her an almost imperceptible nod of understanding as the mental link passed the message along.

Roderich appeared to realize the veiled insult he’d just leveled at Astarion. “Ah- I mean, of course! That isn’t what I meant, little beauty. I merely meant, well. The Szarr family owned the palace, and then Lord Ancunín inherited it and…” he paused for a moment then shook his head. “I was just confused. Forgive me, I did not mean any offense.”

Ban noted that her father was keeping something from them. The way his eyes darted to Astarion every few seconds, as if her husband was a threat, was curious, as was the way he paused mid-sentence, as if he meant to say something else and then changed his mind. She felt a wave of irritation pass from Astarion to her. Turning, she saw him slap on the biggest, falsest grin as he finally stopped pacing and rounded on Roderich.

“And none taken!” Astarion declared, coming to a stop right next to the older man. “After all, you’re family now, and I understand if you find the - change - in last names odd. The Ancuníns are - let’s say - a distant branch of the Szarr clan, and since Cazador died without any heirs - may the gods have mercy on his soul,” he placed a hand on his chest, playing the role of a young man mourning his dearest departed relative so well Ban almost had to stifle a laugh, “the estate and mansion have passed into my possession.”

The act sent a small pang of nostalgia through Ban, memories of him playing the fop back in the day making her more than a little wistful. This didn’t escape his notice, of course; the mental link and her face were more than enough indication. His eyes met hers, and for a moment his gaze was pained.

“What I mean to say, Roderich,” he continued, wrapping an arm over the older man’s shoulder and tugging him close, “is that the estate is mine and your daughter’s, now. In fact, we would be delighted to host a small soiree in your honor. My beloved hasn’t seen her family in years, and we would be honored to have you and your family as our guests.”

That had been the plan: come to the shop without warning, catching Roderich by surprise, then invite the Glasscrafts over for dinner at the Crimson Palace. It would give Ban a chance to see her family in a more comfortable setting, and then decide if she wanted more contact or not.

Roderich squirmed in Astarion’s grasp. “Of - of course. We would be more than happy to come, my lord.”

Satisfied, Astarion dropped the act, letting go of Roderich. “Good. We expect to see you and your whole family at sunset in a tenday. Don’t be late,” he drawled, the coldness settling back. His eyes raked over Ban for a second.

Do you want to go?

She considered it and then nodded. As she turned around, however, Roderich finally gathered enough courage to reach for her - she felt his calloused hand wrap around her wrist.

“My little beauty, dear,” Roderich started. “You left us, you gave up on your family-”

Ban faced her father, for a moment tempted to do exactly as Astarion wanted and sic him on her father, perhaps even bite Roderich herself. Her lip curled, and behind her Astarion tensed, the bond ensuring the thought did not go unnoticed.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, glaring down at her father. “Don’t-”

Ban furiously snatched her hand away from Roderich, rubbing at her eyes. Don’t. He can’t be allowed to see her cry, not when he’d caused it countless times in her life, when he considered her tears a victory.

Easier said than done, however, the prickling feeling of impending tears not abating. Her eyes found the only source of solace in this cursed place, Astarion locking gazes with her. He took a step even before she could communicate anything, arm wrapping around her waist.

“We’ll be off, Master Glasscraft,” Astarion said, the anger simmering under the obviously insincerely pleasant tone. “As previously mentioned, Ban and I will be expecting you and your family in a tenday.”

Roderich tried again, mouth opening to say something more, but Astarion gave him a withering look that invited him to try it and find out. Falling silent, the older man sighed and stayed put, watching Astarion lead Ban out of the store and back to the carriage.

He still had an arm wrapped around her, fingers gently ghosting over her back in what he hoped were comforting touches. To his surprise she came to lie down on his side of the carriage, resting her head on his lap and looking up at him quietly.

Displays of unbridled emotional openness were still uncommon for her; she’d always been that way, but he didn’t fool himself into thinking he hadn't exacerbated the lack of it.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, “I can sit up.” As she moved he placed an arm across her chest, clasping her shoulder.

“I never uttered a word of complaint, did I?” He thumbed away a tear. “I insist; I don’t like seeing my darling so upset. If this eases you somewhat then I’d be delighted to have you crease my trousers.” He offered her a quick, easy smile that he hoped would soothe her.

Especially when I still feel terrible about the nicknames; Roderich’s words today were a weight in the forefront of his mind. He was quick to sever the mental bond before that thought had a chance to get to her; when she raised an eyebrow in question he merely shrugged. His other hand ran through her hair, tracing the braids there absently.

Ban relaxed under his touch, the tears slowing somewhat. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Seeing him again wasn’t easy, especially given the circumstances of, well. Everything.”

He resisted the urge to tell her about the thoughts plaguing him; for now settling on lighter things. For her sake. “That was a rather impressive display of knowledge back there, with the mirror.” he stated carefully. “I admit I was rather surprised when he mentioned mercury mirrors; it’s a wonder he’s survived this long working with the material.”

She laughed, a loud, acerbic sound. “Astarion, you think he crafts the mirrors himself?” She shook her head and nuzzled against his thigh; he couldn’t help the sudden intake of breath or the shiver that ran through him.

“I suppose not,” he conceded. “So, hire some unfortunate soul, teach them how to make mirrors, and then once they’re ill, replace them?” A small scoff escaped his lips. “A waste of resources. You would do better keeping them in your employ and instead only produce silver mirrors.”

“I don’t disagree,” Ban looked up at him. “Silver would be better for the health of your mirror-makers, sure, but it wouldn’t be as expensive to sell.” Her hand rose, cupping his cheek. “I did tell you. The shop was his only love.”

Astarion felt her thumb brush over his cheekbones, wondering if the gesture soothed her; he mimicked the motion, tracing her own in turn. They weren’t as sharp nor as defined as his, but they were perfect, the shape of her face perfectly molded into the curve of his palm. The all-too-familiar swell of affection rose in him and he huffed.

“That is unfortunate, and dare I say his loss. The one thing he should have loved best is mine now,” he murmured, “and I am never letting go.”

Not again, not ever; and now that he was starting to believe that he was enough, he knew he could do anything and be everything she wished him to be. It aided in quieting that small seed of resentment he’d been harboring and keeping sealed tight in his breast.

It aided in softening the horror his new discovery had been plaguing him with, too.

The carriage began to move; he held her waist, keeping her secure. For a moment they were both silent, both lost in thought, contemplating what had just happened.

Ban broke the silence. “You’re thinking too loudly, Astarion.” He could tell she was amused, and more than a little worried.

“Am I that easy to read, love?” Of course she saw through it, through the feigned disinterest and the not-too-carefully worn guise of that’s not important, all I want is for you to be alright - not that it wasn’t true, of course it is - but he did need to talk about it.

“Not exactly hiding it, Astarion,” she mumbled, and he smiled slightly, chagrined. He gently nudged her to shift in his lap, facing away. His hands gathered up some of her loose hair, separating it out into sections. He’d helped her braid it before, and he wasn’t the best at it, but he had to admit that he found the repetitive motion soothing. The task was a good exercise for his nimble fingers, hands that hadn’t felt the heat of combat in what feels like forever.

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “Your father’s preferred term of endearment - little beauty - irks you, doesn’t it?” The braid he was working on slowly took form, and he paused to admire it. “I would hazard a guess and assume my own names for you… elicited the same response.”

Ban craned her neck to watch his work; he held the partially done braid up for her to see. “Not bad,” she commented. There was a small pause, where she gave him a look that seemed to be more fretful than anything else, and continued. “You’re right. It’s… he’s always reduced me, my mother - my brother, even - into things, to ensure his success. His little beauty to marry off. His broodmare, to give him successors. And of course his heir, to carry his name into the future.”

“You haven’t answered the other half of the question,” Astarion chided, eyes pointedly fixed on the half-done braid instead of her eyes.

“Your assumption,” Ban pointed out, “which isn’t wrong, of course, but neither is it some huge, unforgivable thing.”

“Ban…” he murmured, voice low. Dare he hope?

She sighed, hand curving around his chin to make him look at her; he saw nothing but earnestness there.

“You’re fine. We’re fine. That was the past, and you stopped the moment I asked you to. There is no issue here.”

He couldn’t help the relieved laugh he barked out, the tension leaving his body. “I - I suppose you’re right.” He searched for something else to say, and settled on a question. “When was the last time you saw Roderich, and what were the circumstances of your… departure?” He surmised she was likely to have run away, from what Roderich had said; he was curious, but this was also a test of sorts. Would she trust him enough to tell him more?

Ban frowned, thinking. “I ran away. It was after they wanted to have me wed.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed, all faux cheeriness; his hands resumed their work on the braid. “You escaped the clutches of some disgusting, lecherous lout. A good decision; it does not surprise me that you effortlessly repeated the feat when it came to leaving me.”

There wasn’t any bitterness there, merely a need to make light of things. She chuckled and nodded. “My to-be-husband was not hideous, however. He was tall, I daresay even taller than you,” she laughed as he let out a loud, offended scoff, then continued. “He was also rather handsome. I just didn’t want him, nor feel anything for him.”

“You could have, provided with enough time. Although…” he cocked his head at her, teasingly, “had you done so you wouldn’t have been with such a devastatingly handsome vampire, would you?”

“Devastatingly arrogant, yes,” she said, simpering up at him. “But, I met him, and he was rather insistent on being betrothed as soon as possible. He was prepared: dowry, a date for the marriage, the guest list, which apparently my parents had input in…”

Astarion yet again felt pique surge in him: for her, but also at the ease in which this all flowed now. He forced himself to refocus on the braid instead. “Let me continue the story, then. One night, when everyone was not paying mind, the poor maiden slipped out, likely through the window of the house, her meager possessions the only thing she carried with her.” He said it all with an amused, if slightly dismissive air.

“I… well, yes, mostly. Except that it was midday.” She looked at him with a slightly quizzical expression; for a moment it seemed like she wanted to say more, then thought better of it. “You’re getting good at this,” Ban pivots, nodding at the almost finished braid.

He shrugged. “It’s not so difficult to do; a twist here, a turn there…” he finished off his work and raised a hand, letting his fingers dance, as though rolling a coin between them. “What am I if not skilled with my hands, hm? You know that better than most.”

A smile broke over her features and she smirked. “So is that what all that braiding was for? To show off your dexterity?” She reached out to take his hand, running her rougher fingers over his soft knuckles.

“I could be persuaded to demonstrate it in a different manner,” he purred, eyes flicking up to watch their approach to the Crimson Palace. “And the braids may prove rather helpful in that regard.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. The braids stay on this time? She’d always liked having them in her hair. Before the rite he’d occasionally helped her braid her hair; in the days after it she’d done them herself - he’d found it beneath him to do so. He’d always helped her take them out, however, one of their nightly routines before inevitably ending up in each other’s arms. The thought of his hands tugging her braids while he took her was intriguing, warmth beginning to unfurl in her core. “I might be amenable. After all that, I definitely need a distraction.”

He gave her a careful once-over, to make sure this wasn’t merely her skirting her emotions, that it was something she desired. He figured that it was skirting somewhat, but it was also a request for help - she didn’t really want to think about the events of today. He smirked, then gave her hair a small, playful tug. “Then a distraction you shall get, darling. As always, you need only ask, and it will be yours.”

He’d had ideas on how to do this, to reintroduce a little rougher play. The idea of holding onto her head, threading his fingers through those locks as her mouth-

Astarion shook the mental image off. “Let’s get home and-”

The rest of his words were swallowed up by a moan as Ban turned her head to mouth at his clothed cock. She pulled away and he viciously fought the urge to hold her head there and fuck her mouth; he watched her sit up, his eyes locked onto those lips.

“Of course,” Ban said, mirth in her eyes. “Once we get home, I’ll let you distract me all you want.”

Getting home could not be any slower, he thought.

Getting to the bedroom was a challenge, especially since she couldn’t keep her hands off of her husband in between attempts to strip off her own clothes. Their lips were locked, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, each trying to strip without ending their kiss. Her shoes and trousers came off, abandoned somewhere in the main hallway. He seemed to be having just as much trouble as she was; a shoe went flying and he cursed, lips parting from hers with a groan of frustration as he lifted a leg to tug off the other.

“Godsdamned-” he cursed, tugging it off with one hard yank. “You see the issue when the wyrmhide gets soaked and then dries? It shrinks.”

“Oh, shut up.” The moment the shoe was off she grabbed his face, kissing him again. He smelled the way he always had, that lovely perfume a blend of notes that he always made for himself, even now. But underneath was his own scent, one that matches hers, that slight hint of earth and death. But there was more, so much more. That warm flesh under her hands, the ragged, hot breaths, the racing of his heart. Racing, because of her.

“Mh-” He tried to get a word in then gave up the attempt, instead pushing her against the wall of the hallway. A small whoosh of breath escaped her and she shot him a look of surprise, desire raging through her. She broke the kiss to speak; he growled disapprovingly at the loss of contact.

“Seems like you want something,” Ban said, coy. She knew perfectly well what. Astarion fixed her with a wry grin, eyes lidded, head tilted - the picture of seduction.

“My love, I only ever want one thing - you.” He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing the same air. “I crave you, long for you, want you.” His hand slipped under her shirt, tracing a path to her breast. “You did so well last time, showing me exactly what you wanted me to do. Perhaps you could be enticed to give me a little…” he found a nipple, playing with it absently, “…more?”

Ban felt her nipples harden at his touch, a low groan escaping her lips. “I could. What do-” her words hitched as he mouthed at the base of her neck; both hands now focused on the rather urgent task of unbuttoning her shirt. The cool air greeted her as her shirt opened, baring her torso.

“What do I want?” He said, blazing a path of searing kisses and nips from her collarbone down between her breasts, then further towards her belly. “I want you to trust me,” Astarion whispered against her skin, looking up at her, “enough to let me be rougher. More… aggressive.”

Those eyes pleaded, soft and gentle despite the intensity of his kisses. A hand slipped down to adjust his hardness, drawing Ban’s attention, and all of a sudden her throat was dry. “Yes, Astarion. I… I daresay I’d like that. Very much.”

She’d liked it before, Astarion’s roughness. It had been a discovery they’d made within the confines of their tent in the Shadow-Cursed lands and it had always been just right. He had ruined it bit by bit after he’d ascended, but she figured it was time to try again; she’d missed it and knew he had as well.

“Very good,” he replied, eyes steely and mischievous again, tucking away the softness without reservation. “Remind me, my darling: what do we say, when we want the play to end?”

“Sussur,” she breathed, and was rewarded with an approving purr and Astarion using his mouth to slowly tug her underwear down, his hot breath ghosting against her mound as he did.

He replaced his mouth with a hand, pulling the fabric the rest of the way off. She rested her hand on his shoulder as he slipped them off her legs, then tossed them over his shoulder. Astarion licked his lips; on his knees he was at eye level with her core. “Sussur, indeed,” he murmured, mouth ghosting over her, but not quite touching just yet. “You look delicious from here, darling. I almost can’t resist…” a small lap of his tongue, warm and pleasant and just perfect against her folds, just enough to hint at what more he could be doing, “...a taste.”

“Astarion.” Ban bit back the moan, barely managing it. “If you want to lead, just do it. Quit teasing.” She wasn’t irritated, and the idea of being teased to hell and back is something she so desperately wanted, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give him a little cheek. His answering smirk was mischievous; he was all too aware that she was at his mercy.

Half-lidded eyes met hers as he rose, pressing his body against hers. “We’ve just started, my sweet. You must be patient while I decide exactly what I’m going to do to you.” The slow roll of his hips against hers was pleasant, his cock hard and rubbing against her in slow, increasingly insistent circles, the clothes separating them merely adding to the much-needed friction.

Ban met his gaze, then brazenly reached down to cup his erection. Astarion hissed, eyes glinting dangerously at having his authority challenged, but also with a hint of barely hidden delight. She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted out of her. “How about you make me suck your cock, my lord? You can do all the things your pretty little head was thinking of whilst braiding my hair.” She paused briefly, a rebellious smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “If you think you can make me, that is.”

Her own sudden boldness took her by surprise, but even more so her husband; she watched his eyes widen, cock twitching against her palm, the warm heat more than a little gratifying. After a moment, his eyes narrowed into a searing, sultry glare.

Astarion’s answer was breathy, more growled than spoken. “Bedroom.” he turned, already working on the buttons of his doublet, “Now.”

If you would like to see more of these two and their story, consider reading my other entries in the series "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there."

Taglist: @tavamarie @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decedentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @midnight-musings-of-nyx @toni-winchester @icybluepenguin @beepersteeper @hereliesblackdragon

[thelightfluxtastic]

The Crawler's Language

So I'm not a linguist by academic specialty but I am bilingual and fascinated by languages and every time I reread the Underland Chronicles I think about language and especially the Crawler's style of repetitive speech.

All of the species in the Underland have different speech patterns. The bats speak rarely, quietly, and in short sentences because it is physically difficult for them. The spinners speak through vibrations. The rats as a species are associated with humor, they're most likely to use sarcasm and constantly make jokes. But when all of these species do speak, they use the grammar and syntax common to human Underland English.

The exception is the crawlers, who have a distinct verbal quirk, saying things like: "Smells what, so good, smells what?" In this essay I am making basically two arguments:

The crawlers word order is completely normal for Underland English.

Often, when discussing the crawlers, the book narration will make a point of Gregor or others having to mentally re-order sentences to understand the bugs. But if you take out the repetition, Crawler sentences become things like:

"Smells what so good?" "Be she the princess?" "Hates us, the Overlander?" "Unless this be not the Cradle"

And this order that goes Verb-Object or Verb-Pronoun is not unusual for standard Underland English. Human and other characters throughout the books say things like: "Stop you. Stay you. Slow your hearts." (Ripred, Book 1) "Meet you Mareth and Perdita" (Dulcet, Book 1) "Gather us here for we must discuss" (Vikus, Book 1)

It's even baked in to the standard Underlander farewell, "Fly you high".

So the crawlers are speaking correct sentences in Underland English, just repeating the first phrase at the end. Which brings me to my second argument.

The repetition serves a grammatical function

In paying attention to the crawler's speech, I found a pattern. The repetition is not present in every sentence. Crawlers often make simple declarative statements without repetition:

"You look much like but smell not like" "Temp will share her food with me" "Rats give many fish"

The repetition specifically happens with questions:

"Ride you, ride you? Run you, run you?" "Give you five baskets, give you?" "You so say, you?"

Even Vikus takes on this particular grammatical feature. When speaking to the Crawlers, he says "We will give four baskets, and one for thanks" but later asks "Take us to your king, take us?" when asking a question.

There are exceptions to this, but to me they seem to be in cases of emphasis or explicit confirmation:

"Only the Princess, Temp serves, only the Princess" "Hate warmbloods, cutters do, hate warmbloods"

I have no idea if this was Suzanne Collins intention, but for me personally, it reminds me of how questions are structured in American Sign Language. In ASL, a question is indicated by raising or lowering the eyebrows. Signs for question words like who/what/where/why exist, but aren't always necessary. One of the structures common with ASL is to put or repeat the question word at the end, so you can sign a longer phrase or sentence normally, and only have to worry about the question facial expression for the last word. Bill Vicars at Lifeprint/ASL University has a more in-depth explanation, comparing it to English questions structured as "You go to [X university], don't you?" or "You like engineering, do you?" But basically, in ASL, a perfectly grammatically correct way to ask if someone is Deaf is to sign: YOU DEAF YOU?

It is also worth exploring why, in my opinion, the crawlers are the only species who have this visible difference to the audience, even though all species are speaking English as a second language. And at a meta-level, it contributes to the basic assumption that the crawlers are dumber than the other species. Gregor has the most to adjust to, but even long after he's accepted that the Underlanders aren't primitive, and bats/rats are intelligent, he still has a kind but condescending outlook on the crawlers. And even other insect species (like the fireflies) look down on them. Having the crawlers speak differently from anyone else emphasizes their alienation from all other species in the Underland. And it reminds me of how some accents or dialects, like AAVE, are associated with stupidity or assumed to be "incorrect" English when they have perfectly valid and functional structures and meaning.

[thefirstknife]

Speaking of weird things in the season already, I'm back with the obsession with names of things in the seasonal activity.

So in Riven's Lair, you get randomly assigned "missions" that change with each run. I believe there's five of them as I've played a lot of Riven's Lair so far and only got these five to rotate. Maybe there will be more in weeks to come!

Anyway, if you look in the top left corner when you start the activity, it will tell you the name of the mission you're on. The names that I've seen so far are:

Polysemy

Apophasis

Synchysis

Enthymeme

Tautology

Long post under:

These aren't random words! They're all related to language and rhetoric, which makes sense with the Ahamkara theme as Ahamkara are very dependent on the way language is used around them.

Polysemy is when words or symbols are capable of having multiple meanings. Apophasis is when you speak about something by denying it or mentioning it by saying it's not required to be mentioned (def check examples on wikipedia if this is confusing). Synchysis is also a way of speaking in a way that deliberately messes up the order of words to confuse or surprise the person you're speaking to. Enthymeme is a type of an argument where you construct a sentence which tells some sort of a fact by omitting the way you came to that conclusion because the fact should be obvious on its own (again, check wiki for examples, it will be easier to understand). And tautology has a meaning in both language and logic; in language, a tautology is a statement that repeats something, adding redundant information and in logic, a tautology is a logical formula in which a sentence is constructed in a way that every interpretation of the sentence is true.

I doubt these words were chosen randomly and there might be more or perhaps more will cycle in during weeks to come. But even with just this, there's a pattern. I'm not sure which meaning of tautology is being used here; possibly the language one because it fits the rest, but the logic interpretation could also be possible.

The first week's mission was also specifically Polysemy:

I assume next weeks we'll probably do other specific ones in some order, which would also mean there should be at least 2 more. I'm wondering if there's some sort of a reason why these specific words were chosen. Obviously they all relate to forms of speaking and language which is the primary way that Ahamkara use to affect reality; speaking in specific terminology and using particular phrases and language forms is important to them and when speaking to them.

But given the involvement of the Vex, it also reminded me of the lore book Aspect in which every chapter is named after grammatical, linguistic and logic terms. Aspect is also specifically related to the Black Garden and Sol Divisive. Not only that, but Aspect deals with, among other things, the fate of the Ishtar scientists and their copies in the Vex Network, and primarily uses Chioma as their main viewpoint, and the whole situation with Neomuna and Veil Logs has returned my interest in this lore book.

I feel like it isn't a coincidence that we've spent essentially the entire year reacquainting ourselves with Chioma and Maya and Ishtar as a whole only to bring back Sol Divisive and the Black Garden back in the final season in this way. As the Veil Logs told us, one of Maya's copies interfered with one of the logs, sending signals, and Chioma, at the end of her life, contacted the Vex presumably to be consumed by the network so she could possibly reunite with one of the copies of Maya in there.

This brought me also to the mysterious signal from Scatter Signal lore tab in which Osiris tracks down some sort of a signal that seems to be talking about the Vex, but spoken in a strange way. So I began thinking that this signal might be coming from Chioma, consumed by the Vex, from the Vex Network, reaching out to the man who's been studying her, living in Neomuna and researching the Veil for months. Specifically, the final Veil Log mentioned a few similar words and phrases being repeated. Specifically, when Osiris mentions that Chioma was researching "the entaglement of Light and Dark" and when Nimbus and Osiris discuss "parallel connections and parallel energy fields;" then in the Scatter Signal message there's mention of how, presumably, the Vex are trying to "move from parallel to entanglement." The Veil Log also talks about how the Witness can communicate through our Ghosts and how that connection might be going both ways; Scatter Signal also mentions "bridging communion with a Voice."

Copies of Chioma and the other scientists (with the help of Praedyth) once tried to use the Black Garden to send a message out of the Vex Network, detailed in Aspect. We don't know if they succeeded (at least in our current timeline). The Black Garden has been a big focus in Lightfall almost out of nowhere in such an immensely world-changing way (with the explanation of the Black Heart), and it will still be important this season with the exotic mission. It's a very pleasing loop of the story; everything started with the Black Garden in D1 and everything just before TFS might end with it. I'm also incredibly intrigued by the fact that the returning weapons from Undying (a season about the Sol Divisive and the Black Garden) have returned with a new perk called nano-munitions: very Neomuna-sounding name. Perhaps certain Ishtar scientists are influencing the Vex or extending a helping hand to us.

The questions that remain: how does this tie back to the Ahamkara? Why are the Vex interested in the Ahamkara? What do the Ahamkara have to do with the Black Garden? What's with all the strange language terminology that deals with double meanings and ways to confuse? Is it just regular Ahamkara shenanigans to trick us? To trick the Vex? Maybe both?

The point is, I don't think this is as simple as Riven just being sad that all the Ahamkara are dead and wanting to secure her clutch. Nothing is ever simple with the Ahamkara and nothing is ever simple with the Vex; and now we're dealing with both. And somewhere in all of this, there is also a concerning involvement of the Black Garden that connects to both of these elements. At the end of it all, there's us, who rely on this specific combination of elements to get through the portal, pursue the Witness and save the universe.

Spreading the brain worms to the rest of y'all to think about. If you spot any other mission names, feel free to share, though I think that if they happen, they might happen in the coming weeks. Also as I mentioned before, I know there's been leaks and lore tabs unlocking early on Ishtar: I've not seen any leaks or cutscenes and have not read any lore tabs that aren't explicitly visible in-game so if there's a really simple answer in that leaked material, I don't know about it and don't want to know about it so please don't spoil to me or to others!

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the May 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read several million words worth of fics, and these were the cream of the crop. i also managed to rewatch the show for the fifth time!! (unemployment has its perks lmao)

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes. as such, it is incredibly subjective.

you can find past rec lists below:

February March April

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

~

Overcoming by purefoysgirl

Word Count: 547.5k Summary: A Victorian A/B/O romance in which Hannibal Lecter is the future Duke of Westvale who has been away at war for the past ten years. His Grandfather has made good on a contract made shortly after Hannibal's birth to procure him a wife. It was supposed to be easy. Naturally, with the Omega, Will, given in the place of his twin sister, it is anything but, because if there is one thing Hannibal Lecter despises, it's Omegas.

This fic had me holding back tears when it ended (after sobbing a couple different times). This was... incredible. What a fucking UNDERTAKING this author committed to, and despite this being a doorstopper of a fic, the plot did not miss a single beat. Just... wow. For the love of god, please read this.

Falls the Shadow by littlesystems

Word Count: 72.4k Summary: "You're a psychiatrist," Will says. "Between your personal and professional lives you must have met thousands of people, you must know dozens of different flavors of pathology. Do you know anyone who would take me as I am? Who would be able to love me," he gestures in a sweeping motion, from his messy hair to his stained knee, "just as I am?" "I do." Bedelia's words shock Will into stillness. “Really?” AKA an AU where Bedelia is Will’s psychiatrist instead of Hannibal, Will makes a series of increasingly questionable life choices, and no one should ever take Bedelia’s advice. Ever.

GIMME MORE STARSSSSSSSS. Bedelia as Will's psychiatrist was brilliant, holy shit. And Will understanding Hannibal and completely accepting him? This is something I see so rarely done in fics. Will always makes him be a lot less manipulative, or at least goes through heavy angst over it. But in this? Will was immediately endeared because that's just who Hannibal is.

Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL by DBMars

Word Count: 586.7k Summary: Love Never Dies. "I have crossed oceans of time to find you." Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend. Count Hannibal Lecter loses the thing most precious to him -- the love of his life. God is beyond measure in wanton malice, and matchless in his irony. And so Hannibal renounces God, and becomes an immortal monster that feeds on the blood of the living. 400 years after losing his beloved, Count Lecter meets a man who looks exactly like the husband he lost -- reborn and returned. But who could learn to love a monster?

@dbmars you are a fucking genius. I am honestly still processing and figuring out how to communicate just how amazing this fic was. Do yourself a favor and go read it NOW.

the book of jonah by zipegs

Word Count: 18.1k Summary: A sudden breath of hot wind presses through the trees. For a moment, it feels fresh, alive, and then the dust—the pollen—comes along with it, a parasite hitched on the back of the breeze. Will is ravenous. --- After the fall, Will and Hannibal sojourn in a remote, decrepit cabin in South America while they await Chiyoh’s return. But something here is afflicting them, and it’s only getting worse.

Okay, bear with me. THIS WAS FUCKING AMAZING. I haven't felt this way after consuming a piece of media since I watched Guillermo del Toro's The Autopsy episode. Psychological horror mixed with body horror mixed with smut??? I guess that does it for me. I literally can't stop thinking about this fic. It's been two weeks and I am STILL thinking about it.

Wrong by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 4.2k Summary: Will roughly rubbed his arm across his mouth again, trying to rub it off. Rub off the scent of Alana, after they’d kissed. After she’d kissed him. Or he’d kissed her? It was mutual. Until it wasn’t. Until Will breathed in her scent, so familiar, so Alpha, so…wrong. He’d pulled back forcibly, unable to hide the expression of revulsion on his face. “I…I need to go.” he said, sweeping his coat off the back of a chair on his way towards the door. “Lock up when you leave.” The weather was crap, and it probably wasn’t smart to drive in the snow while he was in pre-heat, but Will didn’t know what else to do. He needed to figure this out, he needed to talk to the only person who understood him. He needed to talk to Hannibal.

So ummmmmmm what do I need to do to turn this into like a whole AU?? As always, this was a total home run. Every single bit of it was perfect.

as soft, as wide as air by BlackKnightSatellite

Word Count: 193.9k Summary: After surviving the fall, Will finds he has far fewer hesitations about joining Hannibal than he would have guessed. Character death, but not Will or Hannibal.

Well shit. I read this immediately after a full rewatch of the show (in four days no less) and THIS is my new season 4 canon. It's brilliant and actually reads like a proper season would. And I love how it gives all the characters a concluded story line. Aside from Will and Hannibal. I also loved how much this explored Will's instability and how his mental state would be affected after he finally slung off all the guilt and allowed himself to fully enjoy killing. All around very good.

The Dispersal Method by @victorineb

Word Count: 16.9k Summary: It’s a normal fall day in the forest for Will Graham. Dead body in front of him, cannibal psychiatrist behind him, the usual. Then Will brushes against the wrong flower, and suddenly neither he nor Hannibal can keep their hands off each other. Now, Will must navigate his way out of the crime scene and Jack’s scrutiny while also trying not to jump Hannibal’s bones at every opportunity. Well, one out of three ain’t bad. Set nebulously in s2, post-Will's release from the BSHCI. Will’s a conflicted honeypot, Hannibal’s a (not-so) secretly-besotted asshole, and nobody has brought enough lube.

THIS IS THE BEST SEX POLLEN I'VE EVER READ. Seriously. The BEST out of pretty much any fandom (at least so far).

Between the Shadow and the Soul by raiast

Word Count: 48.7k Summary: When Will decides to stop taking his suppressants neither he nor Hannibal can deny the attraction between them. After nearly a decade of running from his biology, Will is faced with his primitive Omega urges full force. As if navigating his hormones wasn't enough, there is a killer at large with a very specific motive that seems to only be targeting preteen boys.

This might be my new favorite ABO fic? And one of the better case fics out there.

Sleepover by EarthsickWithoutYou

Word Count: 70k Summary: Set in Season 1, after "Fromage." Will is still confused about his kiss with Alana and seeks romantic advice on how to date and be more "smooth" from Hannibal. Little does he know that Hannibal is madly, passionately obsessed with him, and desperately jealous. Needless to say, Dr. Lecter is all too happy to teach Will everything he knows about love and dating.

This was pretty fluffy, tender, and fun, and it was exactly what I needed after finishing a heavier fic

Alana Finds Out by @victorineb

Word Count: 32.1k Summary: A series of one-shots in which Alana Bloom discovers, in the midst of various tropes, that her boyfriend Hannibal Lecter's feelings for Will Graham run far deeper than friendship. Basically a chance for Alana to shout at the pair of emotionally-repressed idiots whilst still indulging in much Hannigram loveliness.

Oh I loved all of this. This scratched that itch in my brain that loves when Alana realizes that Hannibal has wanted Will all along. And some of these one-shots are genuinely hysterical. Love.

Doctor's Orders by JSinister32

Word Count: 29.2k Summary: “He’s dead on his feet, Jack. I do not understand how you allowed him to come when he’s so obviously ill. There have been too many hours in service of your needs, so many that it seems to have affected any sleep that he may have gotten over the past few weeks. From what you and I have discussed, he has a difficult time shutting his mind down under the best of circumstances and this case today has clearly gotten to him.” The doctor stepped closer to the profiler, peering into his eyes as Will tried to focus. “Will? Can you hear me?” Will Graham has never been particularly good at taking care of himself. When he comes down with a severe cold while working on a string of murders, the new psychiatrist on retainer, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, offers to care for him. Will he be able to keep his feelings in check while Hannibal is in his home? Hannibal Lecter can't get the profiler working for the Violent Crimes unit out of his mind. When given the opportunity to care for him when he's ill, will his feelings for the other man come to light?

TENDER. I want like 70k more words of this. Especially Hannibal putting Jack in his place. Especially Hannibal washing Will's hair. Mmm. There's just something so good about Will letting Hannibal take care of him.

The First Condition of Immortality is Death by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 92.5k Summary: Hannibal’s heart stopped for the first time after he’d dragged himself and Will out of the frigid ocean onto the rocky shore at the bottom of the bluff.

Oh this was GOOD. Very tender, good characterizations, and loved how Will's hallucinations were portrayed. This was just all a really good exploration of how their relationship could have progressed. This author also is incredibly good at showing the scenes in a way that I could watch them unfold in my head. This felt like a crystal clear movie.

What Do The Dead Know? by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 7.6k Summary: He looks up at her, haloed by the sun. She could be anyone. No one. St. Abigail, patron of lilies and last chances. AU: What if Will joined Hannibal willingly after the Uffizi Gallery and they shared a few tense weeks in the world before Mason's men finally ran them down? In which Will writes, hallucinates, and succumbs to the dark side and Hannibal is a manipulative, brainwashing, bastard.

cw: Abigail/Will. But does it really count if it's a dream sequence? Regardless, this was something else, off the charts, big fan. The author NAILED the hallucinatory vibe that made this entire fic work so so well. Also, just Will working through his grief for Abigail this way made it that much more intense.

chimera of the chapel by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 211.5k Summary: When Will Graham wakes up from a coma three months after the fall, Jack reveals that Hannibal Lecter didn't survive. Outside the realm of Hannibal's influence, Will decides to discover the full truth behind the world's sudden and seeming falsehood. Everybody seems to hold their own opinion on Hannibal's fate, but Will knows better than anyone that trust and honesty are as elusive as death.

The "presumed dead" trope might just be my new obsession. I adored this fic so much, the plot was incredible, the development of their relationship was spot on, and there were just some very tender moments.

wear my silence like a mask by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 32.k Summary: After running into Hannibal at a Bass Pro Shop, Will is invited to a Masquerade Ball at his estate. Jack encourages him to attend for an opportunity to catch the Ripper. Extenuating circumstances tempt Will down an even graver path; Romance with the Ripper.

Three words: masked anonymous sex. That's all.

The Voices and the Shadows by darlinghogwarts, MaddyHughes

Word Count: 114.6k Summary: “The Chesapeake Ripper? The serial killer? That's a grisly thing to find at the bottom of a drink. Most people say oblivion ...or possibly sex.” Hannibal sips his wine again. “Why are you thinking about a murderer on your birthday, Will? Is it part of your degree?” “He is a part of my degree by my own choice. My supervisor didn’t approve, but…” He sighs. “I insisted.” AU where Will—a Masters student studying the Chesapeake Ripper—gets drunk on his birthday and meets an intriguing man at the bar.

Man, I wish I had had Hannibal as my thesis supervisor in grad school, hot damn. (Mine was pretty much too busy to help with anything, ended up doing it all myself – would not recommend.) This was was damn near perfect. I needed some good old fashioned angst. With a good and fluffy ending. This was a good AU!

Chasing Thoroughbreds by HigherMagic

Word Count: 42.8k Summary: After the fall, Chiyoh rescues Will and Hannibal and takes them to the Lecter home in Lithuania. When Hannibal wakes up, his memories of everything - Will, being the Ripper, everything since Mischa's death - are gone. Will's only problem with that is that killing Hannibal won't be nearly as satisfying if he doesn't understand why. Wrestling with his own feelings, or what's left in the tattered mess of them after the fight with Dolarhyde, Will stays, hoping that Hannibal will recover and give him the opportunity he's waiting for. But there are others who remember what Hannibal did, all those years ago, and they have their own bone to pick.

Ugh pretty sure I love almost everything HigherMagic writes and this did not disappoint. This was fantastic. I was absolutely captivated by Will's development through this and Hannibal was just as good.

Volto Larva by TreacleA

Word Count: 39k Summary: Will is having trouble unwinding after work. Hannibal helpfully suggests somewhere that may assist with that, with absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever.

So ummmm I'm still blushing (in the best way) over parts of this fic because FUCK this is scorching. Anyway. That's all I've got to say LOL.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic chapter banner in the style of the achievement icons. Pyro stands against a dark background in front of a very large, stylized bonfire. Its body is turned to the side, facing more toward the fire with its back more to the viewer, while it looks back toward the viewer. Pyro's form gray and backlit by the fire. Its lenses are the same orange as the fire. The logs at the base of the fire are yellow-white. The entire image is flipped 90 degrees on its side. On the left is the chapter title in yellow-white text on a transparent gray rectangle. The text reads "CHAPTER FIVE: CAMP FIRE" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Sniper, Demo, Soldier, Scout, plus others in smaller roles Warnings: General references to trauma, TF2-typical violence Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason. Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 5: Camp Fire Summary: In which Pyro starts a fire.

---~~~---

"The cart is supposed to move forward!"

"Oh, really? Yeah? Woulda' never guessed! Not like we've been tryin' to do that for the past six hours now!"

Growling, Spy flipped open his disguise kit, grabbed air, and sighed heavily at the reminder that he'd run out of cigarettes. While the earlier break he'd taken, resting cloaked in spawn, had eased the stress of the situation slightly, his body still craved nicotine. And food. And aspirin.

When was this hellish match going to end?

Of course, he knew the answer, and hurried up to the cart, pushing against it to stop it from wheeling backward. But as they were on a slope, gravity was not on his side, and the bomb pushed back against him. "Scout—" he began, only to realize Scout had already run off in pursuit of the enemy.

"'M not Scout, buh I c'n give ya a hand," came Demo's slurred voice, followed by a belch, and the shattering of glass. He appeared at Spy's left side, throwing his own weight against the cart.

Spy glanced back at the shattered bottle of scrumpy behind them and suspected the Demo might be using the cart to keep his own balance, but bit back the urge to comment on it. So long as they finished this stupid match, he did not care.

Slowly they coaxed the cart up the hill, and tension left his shoulders both from physical and mental relief as the track finally leveled out, and they no longer had to fight gravity. They were growing tantalizingly closer to the final lift. Maybe this time would be it, they would reach the final terminus and end this awful—

A shot rang through the already noisy battlefield, and Demo screamed, his legs buckling.

"Mon dieu!" Spy shouted, seeing the blood cascade from Demo's left thigh, and looked up to see the enemy sniper on the tower across from them. He was reloading his rifle, but even from here Spy could see the man's hands shaking—that would've been a headshot, had it not been for the attacker's exhaustion. Said exhaustion was also making him fumble with his own bullets. A very small advantage to the race going on for as long as it had—the enemy was just as exhausted as they.

Grimacing, Spy tapped Demo on the shoulder. "Try to keep going," he whispered. "I'll take care of the sniper." Releasing the cart, he hurried around it, only to stop dead at the sight of the BLU heavy standing directly in his path. "Merde."

Stars exploded in his vision, and he found himself on the ground with what was sure to become a brilliant bruise on his left eye. Before he could say another word, he was yanked to his feet.

"Push that cart, men! That's an order!" Soldier growled, shoving Spy next to the sobbing, limping Demo and joining them at the cart. The enemy heavy had been knocked off his feet—probably from a hit from the rocket launcher Soldier was slinging back over his shoulder—and was off the track.

"Oui," Spy mumbled, blinking wearily. The cart was swimming in front of him, but he threw himself into pushing it forward, willing this agony to come to an end. A glance at Soldier told him that the merc wasn't looking much better himself, but Soldier was always the last to let his injuries get to him. The cart was at least moving somewhat faster, and—

"BONK!"

Soldier's helmet clanged against the bomb as he stumbled into the cart with an animal-like growl, nearly drowned out by the enemy scout's taunting laughter. "Keep... pushing...!"

Demo's bad leg buckled again, and he gripped hard onto the cart, letting out a wail: "MEDIC!"

Squinting, Spy looked back, barely managing to spot their Medic stumbling toward them from the far edge of the field. Meanwhile, the BLU scout joined the heavy, as well as an enemy soldier, and the sniper had surely reloaded his rifle by this point. There was no way they were going to make it.

Spy shut his eyes, hoping their death and respawn would at least be a quick one.

It was not.

In fact, it didn't come at all.

There was a noisy sloshing followed by a hollow metal bounce, and a few cries of confusion from the enemy mercs. This was then followed by a soft click, and Spy opened his eyes just in time to witness the BLU mercs erupt into a fiery blaze. They ran screaming off the building to their agonizing deaths, revealing Pyro standing behind them, tilting its head.

Spy laughed, nearly collapsing against the cart as Pyro joined them, silently pushing it onto the lift.

"Excellent work, Pyro!" Medic gasped as he scrambled onto the lift, turning his medi gun onto the others, much to their relief.

The Pyro nodded.

"Did we... make it...?" Demo mumbled, looking down below the lift. He would have fallen had Soldier not grabbed his arm.

"Just about." Spy watched as the respawned BLU scout scurried up one of the towers and leaped toward them, but the Pyro merely lifted its flamethrower, letting out a powerful air blast that sent the scout sailing backward and crashing into the tower. Looking back at the lift, Spy grimaced upon noting that they were nearing the top. "Well, gentlemen. See you on the other side."

Finally the elevator stopped, and the mercs exchanged pained, yet relieved, glances. It was the last thing they saw before their vision was replaced with a blinding light, and a deafening explosion roared in their ears.

—

The deafening roar after the match was from the mercs themselves.

In spite of their exhaustion, everyone cheered and whooped and howled as they returned to their vehicles. They were traveling in the dark, after how long the match had lasted, but none of them complained. Pyro took the lead, keeping the pilot light on its flamethrower lit and occasionally emphasizing it with a burst of flame to light their way. Normally the behavior would turn the rest of the mercs away, but not tonight.

"Excellent work, private!" Soldier exclaimed, giving the Pyro's shoulder a hearty punch. While before Pyro had been startled at any contact, it did not flinch.

Demo slurred something completely unintelligible, but evidently in agreement. He slung his arm around Pyro, leaning against it.

"Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you saved the day, there," Scout said, stretching his arms as he walked.

Even Spy couldn't keep quiet, and shrugged. "I'm not easily impressed, but... that was a fine show." He stiffened when Pyro looked back at him, its blank lenses unreadable, but it only turned forward again.

Others shared their agreement with various hoots and hollers, which did not stop when they finally arrived back at their hidden vehicles, and later, at their base. If anything, they kept up for several hours as Scout called for a pizza delivery and Sniper—who had stopped briefly in town—arrived with beer. No one turned down the opportunity to celebrate a hard-won victory.

Not even Pyro.

Spy had fully expected it to sulk off to its room again, but this time it remained during the festivities, sitting quietly off to one side of the mess hall. Occasionally it was approached by other teammates, who thanked it for helping them end that hellish match, and Spy, at one point, glanced over to find that it had been given a can of beer and a few slices of pizza on a greasy plate. Later, the food and drink were gone; if it had consumed the items, Spy hadn't witnessed it.

The party could only last for so long, and soon Heavy was nodding off at the table, Demo had passed out (more from exhaustion than alcohol consumption), Sniper had slunk off to his van, and one by one the others retreated to their quarters. Spy would hit the shower first, but as he left, he spotted Pyro calmly heading back to its own room, and he hummed in interest.

He still didn't know what had happened to it, back when they were in the hands of the enemy mercs at Gray Mann's base, but maybe that didn't matter now. As the Engineer had proposed, it indeed seemed to be coming around.

Spy shook his head.

Maybe it was time to abandon this silly mission.

—

The battle was deafening.

Screaming, gunfire, clashes of metal, explosions, and over everything else rang distorted music that he could not make out. An enemy disorientation tactic, perhaps?

If so, it was working. He kept rushing through the field, and yet he could not find his teammates or the enemies. Acrid smoke filled the air and his lungs, making navigation near-impossible. Even when it cleared slightly, he kept finding himself in impossibly different places—a cave, outdoors, a base, a courtroom. The battle always sounded as though it were around the corner, yet he could not find it.

At the same time, he wasn't ready. He needed to be cloaked or disguised, but every time he looked down, he was himself, exposed, out in the open. So he would cloak or disguise himself again, only for it to wear off faster than he could comprehend.

The battle was deafening. It was close. He was not ready.

He turned and ran in a different direction, trudging through knee-deep water he didn't remember encountering.

Red stood out within the gray water, and he gave a start at seeing Tavish lying against a wall, his face pale, the red coming from more than just his uniform.

Abruptly he remembered there was no respawn here.

Without a second thought he reached down, helping Tavish up to limp alongside him. He was mumbling dazed nonsense, but he caught something intelligible among the gibberish:

"You're carryin' somethin'... heavy..."

"No kidding," he growled, only for Tavish to fall limp against him. His own body seized up and he quickly adjusted his grip so as to not drop him. "No. Stay awake, Tavish." He turned him to get a better look at him, but the man's skin was pale, impossibly so for his complexion. How could it be so—

Tavish's head tipped back, and it suddenly was not Tavish.

It was Jer—

Spy awoke with a jolt, scrambling in his bed for a moment before realizing he was holding one of his own pillows.

A headache pounded behind his eyes as he sat up, squinting at the room around him. In the dim light, his eyes could barely make out a shelf with a few books on one wall, a full-length mirror, and a desk with a nice leather chair—his room in the barracks, not his house. No light came through the window, and a glance at a nearby clock told him it was four in the morning. This wasn’t exactly where he'd prefer to be when recovering from a hangover, but he wasn't about to head back home in the middle of the night. Even so, he wasn't about to go back to sleep with a headache like this, and his tongue was clinging irritably to the roof of his mouth.

With a groan, he slid out of bed, slipping into his usual balaclava and gloves, as well as a comfortable robe and slippers before creeping out of his room and into the barracks hallway. The doors muffled snores from a few of the sleeping mercs, and occasionally a nonsensical mumble made its way out of one of the rooms, but nothing indicating that anyone else was awake. Good.

As Spy made his way down the stairs and into the mess hall, his foggy, headache-addled mind still echoed with the cacophony of battle—memories of the day prior, or perhaps echoes of his nightmare. He shuddered, and nearly tripped over a chair that hadn't been shoved back under the table—the whole room was in disarray, it seemed. Shaking his head, he passed through the mess hall and into the moonlit kitchen, where he threw open a cabinet in search of painkillers. No need to focus on those nightmares. He just needed some water and aspirin. And a cigarette.

He soon found the bottle, and washed a few pills down with a bottle of water from the fridge. (He was tired, but not so tired as to accidentally give himself lead poisoning.) But even as the water and aspirin worked to clear his mind, he could not rid it of the roar of the battle, or the vision of Scout's pale face—

Gunshots rang out through the night, and Spy abruptly realized the roaring was not in his head.

Heart pounding, he scrambled for the door—which he found already open—and reached for a pistol concealed in an inner pocket of his robes. Upon stepping outside, he immediately identified part of the source of the noise: a large bonfire piled up a short distance from the base. He was confident he knew what had started that, but as for the gunshot...

Scanning the desert landscape, he spotted Sniper in front of his van, holding his SMG limply off to one side. Spy crossed the distance as quickly as his slippers would allow, cursing the fact that he hadn't changed into his usual outfit before leaving the room. Upon reaching the van, however, he immediately noticed the autopsy scars that riddled Sniper's bare chest, which yanked his mind back to territory he was very, very much past at this point. At least Sniper was wearing boxers this time. The Sniper did not look up at Spy's approach, however; his gaze was fixed on the ground.

Spy cleared his throat, returning his pistol to his robes. "Mun-dee?" he asked, and Sniper raised his head. His eyes were wide, his face pale. "What happened?"

"Woke up to somethin' tryin' to steal my tires," Sniper said, gesturing vaguely to his truck before looking back at the ground. "Wasn't expectin' it to be..."

Spy followed his gaze to a spot on the ground where a small pool of blood was still soaking into the dirt. There was no corpse. "...Respawn?" he guessed. Hoped.

Sniper nodded slowly. "Headshot. I feel bad for the poor bugger, but I..." He grit his teeth and shook his head. "I didn't recognize the bloody thing! Usually I'll hear it hummin' or mumbling something, but it's been—"

"Silent," Spy finished, sighing. "I've yet to figure out its behavior myself."

Raising his head, Sniper frowned. "Well, here's your chance."

Spy looked back toward the base to find Pyro, in its usual outfit, marching toward the bonfire, a wooden chair in its arms—one of the ones from the mess hall, in fact. Upon reaching the fire, it slammed the chair into the ground, shattering it, and with sharp, agitated movements tossed the broken pieces into the fire. It stared at its work, wringing its hands, then began to pace before the flames, back and forth, looking repeatedly from the fire to the ground.

"It must've been at this all night," Sniper remarked. "Guess that party wasn't enough for it."

"I'm not so sure that's what's happening," Spy said, brow furrowing. He watched as the Pyro finally stopped, holding its head in its hands, almost seeming to claw at itself. Though he couldn't tell from this distance, he was willing to bet it was also trembling. "It doesn't seem to be celebrating."

Just as he took a step toward the fire, the Pyro threw its hands down and charged back into the base.

By this point, some of the other mercs had woken up as well: Demo was leaning out his window from the second floor, scratching his head at the blaze outside, and Soldier was shouting somewhere in the building, no doubt waking even more of them. He chased out Pyro, who was now carrying a cushion from a lounge chair. "Turn that blazing beacon off, maggot! No one wakes up the rest of the team before I play reveille!"

Pyro ignored him, running up to the bonfire and chucking the cushion onto it.

Spy approached Pyro as calmly as possible, keeping his distance from the flames. "As much as I shudder to agree with him, he's at least partially right." When the Pyro's head snapped toward him, he gestured toward the fire. "This signal fire you've created is making it hard for everyone to sleep. Not to mention, you're destroying half the base to create it."

For a few seconds Pyro stared at him, and then pointed at the fire, its finger inches from the flames. Its whole form was backlit in a hellish orange glow.

"Yes, that fire." Spy bit back the urge to spit insults or sarcasm. "You can play with fire somewhere else, and burn things other than other people's—er—" And he broke off as the Pyro took several quick strides toward him. While normally quite agile, he found his foot catching on the back of his expensive robes when he tried to back away.

Pyro lunged at him, grabbing him by the wrists and yanking him closer to the fire.

"Let go of me!" Spy cried, struggling against the creature's grip. "Unhand me, you mute freak!"

But Pyro did not oblige, only pulling him closer. Its breathing was heavy and ragged.

The smoke burned his eyes, and a few embers were getting dangerously close to his robes. Desperately he kicked at his attacker, to no avail, and his thoughts were suddenly consumed with how long it would take for him to burn to death atop that bonfire. "L-let me go—help—help!"

A large hand clapped against his shoulder, and another grabbed the Pyro's wrist.

"Pyro lets Spy go. Now."

Relief coursed through Spy's veins as he looked up at the Heavy. His ridiculous red pajamas did not lessen the effect of his hardened stare, which was focused on Pyro.

Pyro shook its head.

Heavy's hand tightened against its wrist. "Now."

Though Pyro relented, releasing Spy, it immediately turned its attention on Heavy, grabbing at him in quick, furious motions. In response, Heavy lifted Pyro off the ground, holding it up at an arm's length while it writhed and clawed at the air with its free hand.

"Merci," Spy breathed, holding up the hem of his robes and taking several steps back from the fire. He rubbed at his wrists.

Heavy merely grunted, still watching Pyro's squirming. It took what felt like far too long for Pyro to finally give in, hanging limp in Heavy's grasp. When it did so, Heavy tilted his head. "Pyro will behave?"

It nodded lamely.

Finally Heavy set the Pyro down and took a step back. It stood still, arms limp at its sides, head hanging.

Spy took a few more steps back, glancing toward the base and trying to judge how long it would take him to sprint back toward it in his slippers.

Slowly, slowly Pyro lifted its head, facing Spy once again, and began to walk toward him.

Spy looked up at the Heavy in alarm, but Heavy stayed put, crossing his arms.

Pyro's movements were sluggish as it approached, and its hands trembled as it reached for him. Though Spy cried out and tried to back away, it did not grab his wrists again, or try to pull him toward the flames. Instead, it grabbed his shoulders firmly, and lowered its head, burying it into Spy's chest.

It was shaking.

"Um..." Spy stared down at the Pyro. "What?"

"If Heavy were to guess," Heavy said, cocking his head, "Pyro is asking Spy for help."

He looked up at Heavy desperately. "Why me?"

Heavy shrugged. "You were first to notice, da?"

Spy blinked, and looked back down at Pyro. It had not moved, but its trembling had intensified, and once again he could hear its breath, which was hitching and shuddering.

Awkwardly he reached a hand around, and placed it on the Pyro's back.

[indigostudies]

so, you're taking a class and you hate it: how to make a bad class suck less

as i struggle through my spring quarter classes, i thought i may as well make a post about something currently relevant to me: taking classes that you don't like.

maybe you're taking a degree or distribution requirement; maybe you signed up for a class because it's exactly in your field of interest, but the professor is a really bad lecturer (not that this is personal experience or anything); maybe, you just...........don't enjoy your class for whatever reason.

so, you have two options: drop the class, or continue on.

since you're reading this post, i assume you can't drop the class for whatever reason—something from above, or maybe something else. i'm not going to judge you! but here's some things that, in my experience, have made bad classes, well, less bad (in no particular order).

one: find ways to make your time before and after the class in question as enjoyable as possible. likely this class drains your energy horribly—so doing something that makes you happy or calms you down before the class, and something to destress afterwards, you'll feel a bit better almost immediately. this can, in my experience, take me from hating an entire day of my week, to being frustrated but able to deal with it. examples of things i do, depending on my energy levels and time:

take a nap

read some of a book

draw

take a walk

write

two: schedule your week so you finish everything up until the day of the class (both for that class and your others) before the day of the class. for me, there's nothing more stressful than getting out of my second to last class, and realising i still have to do five types of homework before i can even think of relaxing or calming myself down about the class i'm dreading—assuming i even have any time to do so! this is a more long-term strategy, so if you can, you should start to do this as soon as possible. for me, this looks like making to do lists on my blog to keep myself accountable, or setting alarms to remind myself to do things (since i'm not very good at keeping a planner).

three: talking to your friends or family! the power of complaining before or after a really draining experience can be very cathartic. oftentimes, your friends or family will be very sympathetic to your frustrations. they can also help distract you if you need it!

four: somewhat similar to one—reward yourself for making it through the class! on wednesdays after my dreaded class, i buy myself a cookie and watch bad book reviews, because i am both food- and gossip-motivated.

five: keep on top of classwork. if nothing else, you have to make sure you don't fall behind in your least favourite class. it'll make everything feel fifty times worse. if you have a required presentation and a final project, start working on them or thinking about what/how you're going to do them as soon as you find out about them. get these done as soon as possible, or at least start working on them, so that when the due-date approaches you don't panic.

hopefully my experiences will help you!