#shockingly enough i think multiple things can be true at the same time

[gay-otlc]

Idk I feel like "Men are responsible for their own actions, women aren't to blame for men being misogynistic" and "You do not have to tolerate bigotry from others, call them out on that shit" and "People may be less likely to become radicalized if they receive kindness and compassion" don't have to contradict each other

[whiskeynwriting]

What They See

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink (alwaysssss), spit kink, spanking, oral sex (m receiving), semi-public activities, public nudity (it’s legal I promise), mentions of tanning, established relationship/marriage

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A/N: 80% porn, 20% plot. Also, there’s a mention of this year’s Sintober post “Pride and Joy”. So if you haven’t read it, go check it out (; 

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Packing for this day trip is making you nervous beyond belief. Anxiety fizzling in your veins, your palms already starting to sweat, and you haven’t even left the hotel room yet. You agreed to this, and quite willingly, but that was yesterday. Today is a brand new day, and now, you have to face the consequences of your decision. It’s something you���ve never experienced, and shockingly, this is new to Jack, too. But if there’s one person in the world you feel safe enough to do this with, it’s him. 

“You nervous, honey?” He asks with a teasing grin, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. 

Sighing, you nod, turning to offer him a shy grin. The beach is about a fifteen minute drive from the hotel, and you’re not sure if you wish the ride was shorter or longer.

“Do you not want to do it?” He’s worried about you, genuinely. Jack only wants you to have a good time, that’s the only thing that’s important to him.

“No, I… I do.”

“You sure, sugar peach? ‘Cause we can turn around right now.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you give him a more confident grin. “I think this’ll be fun.” And then you shrug. “Kinda freeing.” 

And that prompts the return of that gorgeous grin. “Okay, honey.” Lifting your hand, he kisses the back of it again. “I’m glad.” 

It was his idea, and you know his reasoning behind it is true. Jack has no interest in looking at other women sexually, not when he has you. Genuinely, he thought you’d enjoy it. He knows how comfortable you are with your body, and how secure you are in your relationship. And he really likes your wording. Freeing. 

The first thing you do when you step out of the cab is make your way to the cabana he rented on the beach. You’d brought a tote with you, and he a cooler, both filled with snacks and drinks. You planned on spending the day here, enjoying the weather and each other’s company. 

Inside the little hut are two lounge chairs, a table between them, and a floor-to-ceiling shelf holding multiple towels. Cushions and pillows line the chairs, the material soft and plush and extremely comfortable. The colors are gorgeous, too, multiple shades of rich blues, reflecting the ocean and peaceful air surrounding you. Another comforting trait are the curtains at the front of the space, currently pulled to the side. But if you so wish, you can choose to untie and close them, granting you your privacy again. These cabanas are rather private in general, being off to the side instead of in the center of the beach. 

“I’m so proud of you, honey.” Comes your husband’s deep and reassuring voice. 

While setting down your tote, you smile, your back facing him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He nods, coming up to hold you in his arms. “Goin’ out of your comfort zone with me.” 

From behind, his arms snake around your waist, holding you close and tight. It makes you grin, your hands grabbing his forearms while you nuzzle into him. 

“When do you wanna go out?” You ask, whispering. And you’re not sure why you’re being so quiet right now. Jack reads it as you showing your nerves to him; he sees right through you. 

Leaning in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “How about now, babycakes?” 

“Do I have to take my bikini off now?” You ask when he releases you. Sliding off your cover-up, you’re left in nothing but your two-piece before him. 

He shrugs, taking off his shirt and setting it on one of the chairs. “You go at your own pace, baby.” 

Jack will wait until you’re ready to undress for him to do the same, he doesn’t want to pressure you. But honestly, watching Jack take off his shirt excites you. You know that sexual activity isn’t generally acceptable on a nude beach… but that’s what you have the cabana for. 

Walking out of the cabana brings your anxieties to life. Even though you’re both still dressed, you’re nervous as all hell. Jack brought two towels, one for each of you to lay on over the sand, and while he’s setting them up, he can see you fidgeting. 

“C’mon now, honey.” He stands, moving to place his hands on your hips. His thumbs rub you, his handsome face looking down at you. “It’s okay, daddy’s here.” 

Those words alone make you relax, staring up at him lovingly. He can see your shoulders lower to their natural state, contentment washing over you as he lifts his hands to rub them, too. 

“That’s it, sugar.” Leaning down, he gives the tip of your nose a little kiss. “Let’s have a good time, today.” 

The beach isn’t packed, but there’s definitely a crowd. Honestly though, you don’t really care about the other people here. It doesn’t interest you, looking at them. Not when Jack’s naked body is about to be right beside you.

“You care if I get undressed, angel?”

Releasing your worries with a soft breath, you shake your head. “No, daddy.” 

The praise you gave him the other day truly returned him to his natural state. He’s not even hard and yet, he’s more than comfortable removing his swim trunks. In all honesty, Jack is a grower, not a shower, so there isn’t much to see in that department right now. But his overall body? Good lord, seeing him like this is making you weak in the knees. 

Grunting slightly he lays down, getting cozy. Following his lead, you sit on your own towel beside him, the Italian heat warming your skin. You’d picked a warmer day to go out, and while it’s not blazing, it’s still enough to make you tan. 

Turning on his side, he faces you, grinning widely. Reaching out, he smoothes a hand over your side, then your stomach and hip. 

“Such a beautiful thing.” He mutters, eyes running over your body. “Go on,” Your husband nods expectantly. “Take your top off, baby.” And then, he looks up, staring into your eyes. “Let others see what daddy owns.” 

His words make you shiver, your eyes trained on nothing but him. And his, on you. Sliding your hands back, you take a breath, undoing the straps. 

“Yeah…” Dark orbs stare at your chest, waiting for the fabric to drop from it. And when it does, he groans. “That’s such a good girl, baby…” 

You’ve never done this before, been topless in public, and you feel so incredibly exposed. Your blood runs ice cold with nerves, your breaths picking up just a bit. And even though he knows he’s not supposed to, not out here, he reaches over, cupping your right breast and giving it a squeeze.

“Baby,” You giggle, glancing around nervously.

“I know,” He grins, pulling his hand away. But then he sighs, shaking his head. “Honey, come give your daddy a kiss.”

Fuck, you loved when he talked like this. You can’t deny his small request, immediately leaning over to press your curling lips to his. Jack wants nothing more than to grope you, cup and fondle your naked tits. It drives him wild, seeing you like this. And while the two of you didn’t go into this with sexual thoughts, they’re growing naturally and rapidly. 

Already, you can see people looking at you, eyes glancing your way. It makes you blush, shying away from their gaze. But your husband reaches out, grabbing your chin and lifting your face proudly. 

“What they see,” He whispers, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Is what I have.” 

Nodding, you grin shyly. “Yes, daddy.”

Jack is a people-watcher, but refrains from doing so today. He doesn’t want you to think he’s gawking at the other women here. You’re the only thing on his mind. 

Laying down feels nice, especially when you finally decide to remove your bottoms. You turn onto your front, letting your back feel the heat of the sun. Crossing your arms, you rest your head in the cradle they make, breathing out contentedly beside your husband.

“You’re heavenly.” Sliding a hand over your back, he sighs. 

It makes you laugh, his overt praise and adoration. He’s laying down, but his head is turned to the side, looking at you. You’re so distracting to him, always, but especially like this. 

“You’re really liking this, huh?”

“Fuck yeah.” It’s immediate, his response, that southern drawl deep and raspy, just like it always is when he’s horny.

“Well, maybe you can experience heaven later.” You tease, smiling. 

“Why wait?”

“Babe, we can’t do anything on the beach. You know that.”

Now, he rolls over bringing his face close to you. “Why do you think I rented the cabana?” 

“You wanna go in there already?” You ask him, now opening your eyes. “We’ve only been out here for like thirty minutes.” 

“I need you, honey.” He finally admits, sighing heavily. “Besides…” Taking a look over his shoulder, he mutters, “I can’t hide myself too well out here.” 

Smirking, your eyes dip down, finally realizing his half-hard erection. 

“You want me to take care of that?” Lifting a flirtatious eyebrow, you drag your gaze back up his body to look into those dark brown eyes. Or rather, puppy dog eyes, at this point. 

“Yes, baby.” He almost whines, and just like that, he’s grown submissive for you. Honestly, it’s so easy to get him to beg for you. 

Giggling, you begin to hoist yourself up from your face-down position. “Think you can make it back to the cabana?” 

With a wild grin on his face, he jumps to his feet, grabbing your hand and lifting you onto yours. He keeps himself turned away from the general crowd, not wanting his entire erection to be seen. You take it upon yourself to gather your clothes and towels, chuckling when he starts to pull you away. 

Walking down a beach fully nude is… different, for you. The word you used earlier was accurate, it’s freeing. You’re no longer worried about other people looking at you, it honestly doesn’t feel any different than when you’re at a regular beach. And this transition of feelings is comforting. It’s so easy for Jack to nurture these traits within you, your excitement for adventure and your carefree nature. The overzealous passion your husband has for life truly inspires you. He brings out the best in you. 

Your stride is graceful, hips swaying as you step ahead of him. Subconsciously, he licks his lower lip, biting down on it. His favorite parts of you are on full display, and he couldn’t be more excited about it. Usually, he likes to keep you hidden, but letting other people see you like this is stirring something inside him. It’s like what happened at the Halloween party with Frankie… showing you off is something that excites him.

The second you set your clothes and blankets down, Jack is on you, having already shut the curtain. Large hands spinning you around, they then cup your face, bringing you into him. It’s already heated, his fervent and passionate kisses. The way his hands slide around to the back of your head so easily makes you wet, your body melting into him.

Humming happily, you slide your hands along his body, taking him in. You’re the first one to break the kiss, moving to his jawline and neck. His gorgeous neck, your teeth already nipping at the tawny skin. Slithering your hand down, you grab him, doing so gently. It makes him gasp, hands pawing at your naked body.  

“You wanna lay down for me?” Something inside you wants to take the wheel, but you know it’ll be back in his hands eventually. 

“Oh, yeah…” He groans, backing up until he’s landing on the lounge free of your clothing and towels. 

And as soon as he’s on the cushions, you’re crawling over him, your naked body sliding along his. You can see it in his eyes, he’s entranced by you. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, honey.” His palms slide along your waist, skilled fingers grabbing you. And they trail lower, too, taking hold of your backside and squeezing you. “So fucking sexy…” 

Reaching up with a desperate hand, Jack grabs your neck, pulling you down to him. Your lips meet his in a firm press, full of tongue and wandering spit and it makes you moan into him, the vibrations of it dancing over his hand. And the way you settle over him brings him pure happiness, feeling your soft tits press into his firm chest. He’s moving against you, meeting each of your kisses and then demanding more. And by now, he’s risen fully beneath you, pressing against your naked core. 

“Daddy?” You ask, calling for his attention. 

On command, his eyes dart up to you, feeling your fingers brushing along his smooth cheek. “Can I…”

“Can you what, baby?” His brows furrow, wondering what you’re thinking, wanting to please you. 

Even after spending so many years with him, you still get shy talking dirty with him. And he finds that incredibly cute.

Whispering, you request, “Can I spit in your mouth?” 

“Oh,” His eyes roll back, his head dropping onto the cushions below. “Baby, you know daddy loves it when you spit in his mouth.” 

A giddy grin crosses your expressions, both of your hands rising to hold his handsome face below you. He closes his eyes, sighing dramatically as he parts his lips. And within seconds, your trail of spit drips directly onto his tongue, sliding along his taste buds. The absolutely feral groan that comes from his throat surprises you, forcing out a sigh as you sit above him. It sends an intense shiver through his entire body, through his goddamn soul. He loves playing with your spit, loves when you play with his. It’s so lewd to him, such a filthy little habit. And it excites him beyond reason.

Your small yelp makes him grin, feeling the sting of his palm on your flesh. He does it again, spanking your ass and gripping it firmly in his strong hand.

“You’re such a dirty little girl for me.” He growls, lifting his head to nuzzle into your neck.

“Daddy!” It’s a small squeal, one said alongside your giddy grin.

“You gonna take care of me?” He then asks, dragging his lips across your neck to place wet and sloppy kisses on your skin. “I need you to take care of me…” You know what he’s talking about, how could you not? The very object he’s referencing is sitting stiff beneath you, pulsing between your legs. 

“‘Course I will, baby.” You can’t stop smiling; this day is turning out to be much more fun than you’d originally anticipated. 

The slow drag of your nails down his chest makes his muscles twitch, makes him lay even further back on your makeshift bed. Spreading his legs until his feet are on the ground, he allows you to slide further down, settling between them. 

You don’t even grab him, don’t toy with him at all. Immediately, your tongue lays out, running up the underside of his shaft. Hips bucking up slightly, he moans for you, soft and wanton. Sliding your tongue up, your lips envelope his tip, feeling his thighs shiver beneath your hands. The sweet taste of his precum drenches your tongue, prompting you to gently suck. 

The thickness of him will never be easy to take, but you’ll never not enjoy the challenge of it. While being conscious of your teeth, you take him in, moving your tongue as you do it. He enjoys the gentle stimulation, his hands rising to find the back of your head. Tenderly, he pushes you down, all the way to his base. The tip of your nose nestles into the hair scattering his pelvis, his musk evident as you begin to enjoy him. 

“You like that?” He asks, chuckling breathlessly when he feels your low moan. 

All you do is squeeze his thighs; it’s a loving touch, though - you’re not asking him to let you up. Collecting your hair in his hands, he uses this as leverage to move you, sliding your mouth over his dick a handful of times. He enjoys watching you take him, lifting his head and putting a pillow behind him so he can see you better. 

“Turn your head?” He says, “Turn your head to the side for me, angel.” He does it for you, moving his tip to rub against the fleshy skin of your inner cheek. “There you go, that’s it, babycakes.” Watching himself poke out against the side of your face, he chuckles. “Good girl.”

Fisting your hair with one hand, he grips his base with the other, thrusting his hips up against your mouth. His positioning against your cheek is uncomfortable, making your saliva pool in your mouth until it drips down onto his skin.

“Look at that,” He can feel the cool trickle of it on his pelvis. “Daddy’s sloppy little mess… my good, drooly girl.” 

He’s throbbing against your tongue already, his tip pulsing with need. He really loved seeing you naked on that beach. Becoming impatient with his own teasing, he releases you, but only briefly. Once he’s no longer shoving his tip against your cheek, he’s sliding it into your throat again. 

“Just like that.” He’s thrusting up against you while simultaneously moving you down, listening to your muffled mouth sounds. 

Your whimpers only serve to provoke him, low groans continuing to emanate from his chest. But you do your best to keep yourself quiet. The hut you’re in is multiple yards away from the main group of people, but it wouldn't be the first time you’d gotten complaints from neighbors. Jack, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care. 

“I know you can take more of my cock in your mouth, that pretty fuckin’ mouth.” Gritting his teeth, he’s staring down at you with a wild sense of passion, breathing heavily through his mouth. “Jesus honey, your throat is so tight - fuck, your mouth always feels so fucking good.”

The force of your husband’s thrusts, the strength he holds in his arms and hands, makes tears well in your eyes, the harsh shove of him down your throat making you gag. Taking a deep breath, you shove aside that reflex, hollowing your cheeks to suck around him. 

“I love it when you gag, sweetheart.” He’s panting, watching in awe as you swallow him. “Daddy loves it when it’s deep.” 

Jack’s words only encourage you, his hands continuing to hold and brush your hair while you go down on him. Licking the underside of his cock, he groans again, jaw dropping open. 

“Further,” He demands breathlessly, and you do as he says. Leaning down, you take him, all the way to the back of your throat again. In turn, you move your body, bending over while shoving your hips into the air. 

“I need that.” He says without even thinking, staring at the curves of your ass. “Need it…” Mumbling and muttering, he stares at you, feeling those powerful waves vibrate through his body. 

You begin moving at your own pace, repeatedly fucking your throat open on him. The spit dripping from your mouth slides down his length, his girth repeatedly stretching your mouth wider for him.

“Oh baby, pretty baby, slow down.” Jack’s gasps have grown loud, his breathing becoming labored from your movements. His hips are stuttering, his legs are shaking, his precum endlessly oozing into your mouth from his tip. “You’re gonna make daddy cum.” 

With a harsh push, you lift yourself from him, needing to take in more than a few small breaths of air. You’re gasping, wiping your wet mouth with the back of your hand. The full length of him rests on his stomach, but not before he takes himself in hand. Pumping his girth two, three times, he grins. 

“You okay, darlin’?”

“You’re so cocky.” You grin, shaking your head. 

He tilts his own, responding with, “Don’t you love it?” 

Surging forward, you kiss him, melting over his body once again. With you so close, he grabs hold of you, spanking the sweet flesh of your thighs as they rest on him. 

“You’re naughty.” Jack mumbles against your lips, one hand returning to the back of your head. “Showing everyone your beautiful body, your pretty titties…”

“You liked that, daddy?”

“Oh honey, I fucking loved it.” The word is accentuated with his harsh grab on your ass, pulling you even closer to him. “And you know they saw your perfect ass…” 

Warm palms rub over your backside, his hot moan fanning over your cheek when you move to kiss his jaw. Smiling against him, you offer a flirtatious hum, sliding your pointer finger along his lower lip.

“Baby, daddy needs your body.”

“I’m right here, daddy.”

“No,” Swallowing thickly, he shakes his head, moving to sit up a bit. “I need you, honey. We can come back later if you want, but I fucking need you.”

[eternal-apidae]

why did Stephanie M did that weird age thing at the end of the Host?

Excellent question anon!! Let’s get into it!

So for context, The Host (2008) is a book based on an invasive species of aliens that need host bodies to operate on alien planets. The 2 main characters of the book are one of the invading aliens, a “soul” and her human host body that is still alive and well even when the alien is operating her body. The grand finale of the book has the alien give back the human body so her host can go back to living her life. BUT! the humans involved in the story have grown attached to this specific alien and find her a new body. Not a big deal except SM wrote it the weirdest way possible. The running theory in the book is that the longer a human was human before an alien took over the more likely they are to remember their own lives. so while our favorite humans from the story go looking for a new body they choose one that is noticeably young so that the alien doesn’t have to worry about the human host being alive inside the body. BUT! the alien has paired up with one of the adult males in the story and so when she wakes up in the new body she lies about its age so that her partner won’t object to hanky panky and make her wait until her body is old enough.

There’s a lot there. It is Stephanie Meyers writing so it’s filled with her usual sexism and weirdness that makes a lot of people question her sanity. I am a white person so i don’t know how to go about commenting on her racism. i will say she didn’t dig herself into the same hole she did with Twilight (2005) but the invading alien 100% have a savior complex about taking over planets, they said something of the lines of “We come to experience and make it better.” or something to that effect that i wish i had my copy of the book in front of me to check. But they fit the definition of colonizers so take that as you will.

Stephanie has a history of using similar tropes and just weird things that she insists on including in her writing. What anon has come to me about is the weird age thing and let’s dive into that. There already has been a lot of commentary about the age gap with Bella and Edward from Twilight but i bring it up because it’s a trope SM writes often. The only book i can think of that doesn’t have a weird age gap is her spy/espionage book The Chemist (2016) but i haven’t read a couple titles that popped up in my deep dive for this ask.

The biggest clues about why the hell SM writes some of this stuff is that she is mormon and her religious views definitely get added in writing in different ways. Mormons believe that a “delayed marriage” is a sign of delayed maturity so that’s the biggest thing i can think of when it comes to why SM writes this ideology into her books.

Returning to The Hosts age gap and Twilights age gap the circumstances are shockingly similar, one of the pair has been alive for multiple life times before they meet the other and they are suddenly complete. They felt so isolated and distant from their own kinds until they found their true mate. It’s crazy to me! The only difference the pairs is that in Twilight, Edward is an eternally mature 17 y/o and in The Host, Wanda is an eternally immature thousand of years old, in the book she estimates that she was born around earths big bang? or that her mother? was but she constantly moves from planet to planet and has to start the maturing process all over again with each species. She even states towards the end of the book that she was “barely a year old” because her time on earth had been that short and then!! she’s put into an even younger body!! The aliens defense within herself is that she doesn’t want to wait like her previous human host had because her human host was 17 (i think) when she found her mate and he made her wait for her 18th birthday before her would have sex with her. So she lies and says the new human host’s body’s birthday is in a week! which is just so silly to me! it brings in the question of if the aliens celebrate their host’s birthdays? which i genuinely don’t see that they would??

I do know that SM stated that The Host was based off a story she started telling herself while driving through arizona? one of the more desert states and so she probably started writing it and had to come up with some kind of happy ending? similar to twilight which was based off a dream and she wrote the meadow scene first and had to build a backstory around that and then find some way to give all of those characters a happy ending which is how we ended up with genuinely the most disturbing age gap in any of her writing to date.

Long answer short! i’m not sure! but i mostly blame mormonism and poor plotting!

Thank you anon for sending in this ask so i could talk about my favorite book ever and the absolute disaster that it is!

[salemwolfgang]

The Bed

Request: “‘There’s only 1 bed” Hannibal & Will obsessed with a fem reader.”

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham

Warning(s): Smut, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Slight Dom and Sub Tones, Spitting, Blow Jobs, and So So Soooo Much Fluff

A/N: It’s not as long as I originally intended but I’ll add more later when I find what I want to add. Also not entire proofread. I did read through it a few times but there could possibly still be mistakes and I’ll happily fix them later lol.

Two weeks ago, during a conversation with Hannibal, you mentioned how tired and stressed work had made you as of late. That following week he surprisingly  invited you on a trip to a cabin that he owned. He said it was further north and he usually went there a couple times throughout the year. You didn’t want to interrupt his free time but he insisted you go. He even said that ‘It would be a relaxing trip and the scenery was quite spectacular’. 

You mentioned the conversation to Will and he stated that the trip was offered to him as well. But he said that he’d only go if you did as well. The two of you decided to tell Hannibal that both of you would be delighted to go and he happily told you that he planned to leave on the fifteenth. 

The rest of the week was spent planning on what you’d pack, meal options, and any necessities that would be needed. When the day arrived you received a text from Will stating he and Hannibal were on their way to pick you up. Despite the cold that nipped at your skin, you decide to wait on your porch.

On the car ride there you ran through your list of items that you all packed twice, just to be sure that you had everything. You knew you had it all but it gave you something to do since you didn’t bring a book and your phone had no service. Hannibal wasn’t much for conversation and Will read a book that you believed was, The Measures Of Madness, which Hannibal had given to him as a gift last Christmas.

When the three of you arrived you all grabbed your luggage and headed into the cabin. Hannibal started making dinner while Will started a fire. You took everyone’s things to the back and went to put them in their rooms until you noticed that there was only one bedroom. 

“Uhh… Hannibal? Can I ask you something?” You asked as you walked back towards the kitchen.

Hannibal looked up from the carrots he was cutting and said,”Yes (Y/N)?”

“Where are the other beds? I tried looking and this place only seems to have one room…”

“Oh yes I must have forgotten. I’ve always come here alone so I never thought to have a cabin with multiple rooms that I didn’t need.” Something in his tone of voice hinted that he wasn’t telling the truth but you didn’t bother to question his response. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll just sleep on the couch.” You muttered. Not realizing that they had booth heard you.

Will said nothing but came out from the living room and walked to the bedroom. 

“Well, (Y/N), the bed seems big enough for the three of us. Why can’t we just share?” Will’s voice yelled out to you. And before you could say anything he added, “Plus the couch seems quite uncomfortable.”

Hannibal sneakily smiled and looked at you waiting for an answer. When nothing came out he said “Yes, it would be a shame if you couldn’t sleep properly while we were on our vacation. You must sleep with us, it seems to be the best option. At least try it for tonight and if you were to become to uncomfortable with it, you can sleep on the couch.”

After continuous bantering amongst the three of you on where you’d sleep, you finally agreed to sleep in the same bed. The two, grown might I add, men both made a small victory dance and you couldn’t help but giggle at their childish behavior. As the three of you ate you conversed about work, how fast the seasons seemed to change, and all recent news. At some point the topic of your love life was brought up. How exactly it came about was unclear to you but it had happened and there was no way out of it. 

“So are you...” Will cleared his throat and then continued, “interested in anyone?” 

You felt yourself begin to choke on your food at the suddenness of this question. When you managed to calm down your face noticeably heated up making the other two aware of your embarrassment. Neither made any remarks about it and waited patiently for your response.

“Well yes and no, it’s more like I’m interested in… multiple people but I highly doubt they’d care to know. I could never see myself possibly being with them, they’re too good for me. And I could never choose between them.”

Your response seemed to noticeably change something within Hannibal and Will. As you glanced up at them you could notice clear disdain on their faces. You frowned immediately afraid they had become disgusted by you and your lack of choosing between two people.

“Who are they? Is it someone from your work? Or possibly a friend of yours?” Will’s rapid fire questions surprised you. His tone let out that he was not angry at you but at whoever your “crushes” were. 

Hannibal reached out under the table and set a hand on your thigh. The grip he had made your stomach flutter and your cheeks felt warmer. He looked you in the eyes and without hesitating said, “You deserve to be cherished by whoever you desire.”

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Will stared at you with such an intensity you were afraid he’d burst at any moment. Luckily he didn’t and instead mentioned how late it was getting and that it was about time to ready yourselves for bed.

Hannibal released his grip on your thigh and began to collect his dirtied dishes, Will and yourself followed after him. You insisted that Hannibal was given the first shower since he had made the meal and then it was decided Will would go next and you last. 

As you stood within the shower thoughts of what had occurred over dinner began to make their way back into your head. You felt so embarrassed after what had happened. What if they knew of your crushes and were just teasing you? A new thought quickly made itself known and you caught yourself leading into it. It couldn’t really be true; no, there’s no way… but perhaps they liked you back? 

You had no more time to think of it because soon the water ran cold and you had to exit the shower. Quickly you got dressed and did your usual nightly routine afterwards you headed to your… shared bedroom, the thought still made your mind blank. It was too embarrassing to think about.

When you entered the room you were surprised to find Will fast asleep. You stared at him fondly then turned your gaze upon Hannibal. As expected he was laying with a book in his hand and a small glass of wine next to him. Before you walked any further it dawned upon you that the only available space was between the two men.

Pretending as if it did not bring butterflies to your stomach, you slowly crawled in to the surprisingly soft bed. Having no other option but to rest yourself in a slightly curled position against Hannibal’s side.

Without any warning you felt Will’s hands curl around your waist and his legs move up against yours. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact but tried to relax. Hannibal then placed as hand onto of your head and began brushing your hair softly with his fingers. You had no words to describe the unexpected bliss you currently felt at the moment.

Hannibal spoke, his tone soft yet authoritative as he whispered, ”You are to remain and belong to us, only us.”

You felt hot breath against your neck as a shockingly awake Will added on to Hannibal’s words. ”Your silly crushes will have to go away, no one else can have you but us.” He then softly kissed your neck and caressed your side.

Their sudden possessiveness made you blush madly. 

Hannibal closed his book then slid himself down slightly so that his face was next to yours. He reached a hand up and placed it on your cheek and caressed your face softly with his thumb. You held your breathe as he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You couldn’t help but to lean into it and you cupped his face to deepen it as you did. Hannibal took his time to part your lips slightly and move you more towards him.

As Hannibal distracted your upper half, Will began to caress your sides. His hands moved tenderly up and down your thighs and would occasionally dip between them. He let his fingers dance across your clothed area. He only stopped when he reached the edge of your underwear; he would tease you by pulling the fabric up slightly and snaked his hand between your flesh and thin panties. 

Your breath paused a moment and a soft hum left your parted lips when Will rubbed his fingers against your folds. Hannibal pressed himself against you and let out a groan as you pulled him closer. 

“She’s so needy for us.” Will taunted. The comment made you pout a little and Hannibal lips noticeably lifted in response. “Tell us what you want hun, we’ll give it to you, whatever you want just ask.”

You let out a whine at the though of using your words. It was just too embarrassing to truly tell them your desires but reluctantly you did as told. “I… I want you both inside me…” You hesitated before adding a quiet, “Please.”

“Oh so polite for us. What a good girl.” Hannibal whispered to you, more so to Will though. 

You let out a needy whine and pushed your hips both into Will’s hand and Hannibal’s hips.

“Let’s give our good girl what she so desperately wants.”

They both sat up and pulled you along with them. Quickly you undressed with them and then they had you lay your back against Will. His warm skin against yours caused you to sigh at the feeling. You almost became unaware of his length pressed against your back until you felt the tip’s precum wet your back slightly. The reminder had you drifting to thoughts of what it’d feel like to have it finally inside of you. 

Admits your distraction Hannibal had begun to crawl closer to the two of you. He brought you back to them by placing his hands onto your now bare thighs; drifting them upwards then spreading them. Once they spread he moved in closer.

Moving up he went past you and made his way to Will. He glanced down at your curious self and then moved to Will’s ear. He then began whispering low enough that you could not hear a single word and before you could even think of something to ask. Hannibal lifted his hands and grabbed a hold of Will’s jaw and roughly laid a kiss onto his lips.

Their tongues were pushed against one another and at some points a tongue would drift into one of their mouths. Will both visibly and physically showed his liking for the kiss by pushing into it and growing harder. He then let out a deep moan that caused his chest to vibrated against your back.

You could feel yourself become even more aroused and the wetness between your legs became more noticeable. You thought about reaching one of your hands down between your legs to pleasure yourself at the sight but found that Hannibal had beat you to it. One hand stayed on Will while the other made its way between your legs. He moved his fingers between your delicate folds, coating his fingers in your slickness. You loudly moaned at the contact and lifted your hips to give him more access.

When Hannibal deemed his fingers wet enough he slipped one within you and began thrusting it in and out before attempting to slowly work you up to two fingers. Your moans increased once he added a second and at that he curled his fingers slightly hitting a spot that had you’re hips pushing down on his hand for more. He then added in a third; at this point you were writhing beneath him, the warmth within your stomach quickly building. 

Just when you thought he was going to start bringing you to your climax he stopped and pulled them out. You let out a dissatisfied whine and opened your eyes to look up at him. A muffled chuckle could be heard from above and then Hannibal pull away from Will. He made his way back down to you before, in what could only be described as purring out, “Are you ready for your reward now songbird?”

You looked past Hannibal and up at Will in an almost questioning way. He nodded his head slightly as if he had known what you were asking when you yourself didn’t know. But at his sign of approval you looked back at Hannibal and  quickly nodded your head. 

At your sign of consent, Hannibal grabbed ahold of his length and made his way to your entrance. Before he put it in though he coated his head in your wetness and spit down onto your entrance. It was something you hadn’t expected but had you gasping out at the feeling. Once we deemed that he was lubricated enough, he pushed himself in.

Will ran his fingers within your hair and moved you up to kiss him; distracting you from any discomfort. His softness greatly balancing out Hannibal’s rough movements. His tongue lapped up any moan you let out and his fingers caressed your sides in a easing way.

At first his pace was slow until Will moved his hand down between your legs and gathered any of the liquids he could before teasingly circling two of his digits your sensitive clit. You cried out into his mouth and felt your legs jolt at the touch. And Hannibal took this as his queue to pick up his pace.

The heat inside you coiled more and more and you could feel yourself getting close. You started to relax your body more and your breathing slowed as well. You took in deep breathes, well as deep as you could with Will’s mouth on your’s, and felt your self give into the release. Your mouth fell open and you felt your body spasm slightly and your arms bent back and grabbed onto Will’s legs.

Hannibal slowly worked himself in and out after noticing the movements and pulsing inside of you. He moaned out as your squeezed around him and seemed to both push him out and suction him more. The contrast and feeling had him closer than he originally thought and as you came down from your high, his had grown nearer and nearer.

It was at this moment when he pulled out and began stroking himself at your entrance. His hand increase its speed and you watch as one of his hands spread your legs giving him more access. With a final groan he came onto you and ropes of cum leaked down your crevices.

As the two of you laid there breathing heavily you began to wonder what you’d do about Will. He was still hard against you and you could tell that you were to sensitive to go for a round two yet. Then an idea popped into your head that had you smiling coyly and caused you to slowly turn your body so you were now laying on him.

You leaned in and kissed him gently before you started to litter kisses all along his body. As you moved lower you would tenderly nip at his skin each caress of your teeth on his skin had him moaning quietly. Once you reached your desired destination you looked up at him from under your lashes. Eyes observing his every move to see if he was uncomfortable at all with this.

Seeing no signs of discomfort, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip. Then you swirled your tongue around it, letting your saliva pool around him and drip down his shaft. Will set one of his hands on your head and braided his fingers into your hair. You allowed him to guide you down and you bob your head on him.

You felt movement behind you but didn’t think anything of it until a mouth connected to your now sensitive sex. Hannibal’s seemingly tongue mocked your motions and lapped up any of the mixed liquids he found. You surprisingly felt no discomfort from the delicate touches and even found yourself pushing down onto his face. Though for a moment you hesitated, thinking that’d you’d crush him if any further pressure was applied, but hands wrapped around your hips and pushed your down more.

Your moans sent vibrations through your mouth and onto Will’s cock. Eventually leading to an even louder response from the man above. He praised you when he wasn’t practically crying out. The praises were nothing wild but they were enough to make you feel light headed and adored. Your favorite phrase that he had muttered was most likely, “Holy fuck princess, you look and feel so good with your mouth around me. Just like the good girl you are.”

After a few minutes you noticed that he had begun to move your head faster and his hips began to lift, which you assumed was his attempt to get in deeper. You ended up gagging a few times and found yourself drooling, what felt like,  pools around him. Then suddenly the movements became sloppier and less controlled. At some point you gave up all control to him and instead focused on moving your hips more to get more pleasure out of Hannibal’s mouth.

You felt the familiar warmth inside your stomach coil and twist about and right as that feeling made itself known Will came hard inside your mouth. To your surprise, you ended up swallowing every ounce, not letting a single drop spill. And as you did so, your second orgasm ran through your body. Your muscles shook a little at another rush of euphoria.

Slowly you removed your sore jaw off of Will and pulled your hips up and off of Hannibal’s face. Strings of saliva stuck you two will for mere seconds before they broke and as you glanced up at Will you noticed his dark red face and giggled at the sight. You had never seen him more embarrassed from something then now. It was, somehow, quite adorable. 

You couldn’t help but reach up and place your hands on his warm cheeks and pull him in for a tender kiss. Something about the way you kissed him felt so sweet and pure, despite the sinful acts you three had committed. And you couldn’t find it in you to pull away. You stayed with your lips on his for a moment or two and then slowly separated. 

After a brief moment of silence and stillness, large hands made their way around you and wrapped themselves around your hands. With a seemingly no hesitation, they guided both you and Will back onto the bed. As you had moved down, you removed your hands from Will’s face and instead placed them around his arms and on his back.  

You pulled him closer to Hannibal and yourself and rested your head next to his chest. Your legs tangled with Hannibal’s and one of his hands reached out to set on Will. You had thought a bit about how natural all of this had seemed. It was quite odd that none of you had spoken yet but you said nothing about it.

And as your eyes slowly shut you whispered out a barely audible, “Goodnight.” and fell asleep before you could hear them mutter the same word.  

[nat-20s]

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad. 

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show  applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of  a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon:  No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true.  Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look. 

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

[thespoonisvictory]

Please explain why Schlatt is the best character on the SMP.

(Alternatively, I would be really interested in hearing more about your dislike for Quackity's produced lore. Personally, I love it, so I'm really intrigued whenever someone says that they're not fond of it).

as much as I love schlatt, I think I'll answer the quackity question, because I've been meaning to.

first of all, I think I should clarify that I'm definitely biased, because my favorite streamers, outside of the dsmp universe, tend towards semi lore, or, at least, not whatever quackity's doing. I'm used to it, and people tend to not like change lol.

second of all, I really do like quackity's produced lore, but I don't like certain aspects of it, and find myself preferring semi lore in general. I don't think he should stop doing it so much as I think he should use it as an occasional technique rather than conveying near 100% of his story with it. big q is very talented and I commend him for taking such a bold approach, which I think pays off in some ways.

third, to me, semi lore is any lore that breaks the fourth wall in that it isn't trying to be something other than a minecraft stream, it's all in first person, and none of it is prerecorded. for example: most of wilbur's pogtopia streams are semi (or casual) lore to me, because he'll thank subs and joke with schlatt about getting techno a girlfriend, but it's still largely in canon.

anyway, in true jenny nicholson fashion, let's kick off with a numbered list.

1. this post, by patches, explains a bit of why the lore streams can get a bit disconcerting to me. the dsmp have always had a bit of charming awkwardness in their improv, because these are for the most part just Some Guys acting, and under the guise of a stream where it's just a Streamer Playing Minecraft, it fits. but the highly produced nature just- creates such a disparity between the quality of the cinematography and the acting that it's a little weird, y'know?

2. in some cases, semi lore allows for dread to be built in a unique way. during the exile arc, tommy would have lighthearted streamer jokes and bits, shout out subs, pretend like things were normal. he never acknowledges that his situation is messed up, that his condition is getting worse, that things are falling apart. it's a quiet, sinking, horror that creeps along over the course of weeks. it's important to the viewer that we are there every day to see the slow progress, to understand why tommy gets pushed so far down. besides the impracticality of 14 highly produced lore streams, you would lose a lot of the subtlety there.

the smp is such a unique medium in that the stream style itself is so telling. when tommy actively doesn't acknowledge what's happening, it makes the abuse that's occurring seem so much worse. when wilbur drops little hits about his depression or his plans in between lighthearted, ooc jokes, it lulls the audience into a false sense of security.

imagine a version of the 'forming las nevadas' story where quackity does it over the course of four nights. the slow realization of his manipulation tactics disguised by an unassuming stream format, because it's still quackity, joking around and laughing until he approaches the next person and he shifts into his 'persona'. when he finishes the conversation, we watch his face fall, his smile fade, as he walks back to an empty las nevadas. it would build hype, not to mention taking less work, and letting the audience see a bit more of quackity's humanity.

3. I mentioned it before, but it just straight up takes less time. I'm willing to wait, of course, but there's something to be said about the merits of pacing and being able to throw together a lore stream last minute. take, for example, tommy's death. it wouldn't have been nearly as impactful without the rushed, oddly somber flurry of livestreams that came after. jack didn't need a highly produced montage of him standing by tommy's grave as the seasons passed, of his planting flowers everyday. what turned out to be effective was just- him, walking around, coming to terms with his grief, completely silent for periods of time.

it was mourning. plain and simple, with no embellishment or evil villain music, shockingly earnest.

I don't think you could replicate that raw, undone feeling with a prerecorded, pre-produced, semi-movie. it feels like all of a sudden jack's pov was important enough that he had to stream, and there it was.

you could argue that this could be planned beforehand, but I think more often than not, that's a. not really feasible, and b. going to take away from the organic nature.

we all like candid shots, 'authentic' vlogs and influencers. to me, this is just one more extension of that rule.

4. under the same idea, you can make more. we spend more time with the streamers, and therefore the characters, and get to know their more human side. wilbur, for example, is deeply humanized by little things that you just couldn't really fit into a lore stream: his dynamic with niki, all his little moments of hesitation, his banter with tommy and his true love for l'manburg. who c!wilbur is is built up over hours and hours of comments and suggestions and one-off statements, and we just don't have time for that in quackity's lore. the transitions are snappy, filled with beautiful shots, but they don't allow for as much depth of character as that awkward little walk from place to place, that quiet monologue they do to themselves.

it's not impossible for you to do that, as with c!quackity and c!charlie serving as a 'morality pet', but at this risk of repeating myself endlessly, it's more earnest and organic in a sense.

5. last, I just really like multiple povs. one of my favorite bits from s1 is the fundy spy arc, because of how effectively multiple povs are used. streams where wilbur is deeply, deeply distraught over fundy's betrayal but thinks fundy doesn't care, while fundy is deeply, deeply distraught over wilbur's prior treatment of him but thinks he doesn't care. and you could watch both at the same time! quackity's pov isn't as personal when it uses third person, which is a bit sad because I think it's a unique aspect of livestreaming every perspective.

(I'm so sorry if this isn't coherent or makes any sense I'm very brain dead and tired from speedrunning three essays yesterday)

basically, I think quackity's lore style is good for big, grand events, occasionally. it's very cool to watch, definitely builds hype, and can make certain things easier, such as coordinating a bunch of people or doing special effects.

but for building a plot and establishing character dynamics, I really prefer semi/casual lore.

[solivagant-muse]

Iris gives me so many slasher vibes combined (mainly cause they're all psychotic), like it's so twisted that she doesn't even see her victims as people but just a convenience or a prey😳 She seems like she would chill with the firefly family from House of 1000 Corpse before killing all of them in their sleep, also she seems like Otis B. Driftwood in terms of behavior (I'm just guessing this from seeing one of your drawings of her sitting on the couch drinking and chilling like a normal person😂)

And surprisingly I feel like she would get along with Jason(?) Well until he gets annoyed and probably tries to kill her💀 She's mean (but also inhumanely strong) so maybe I'm wrong on that but at the same time, I think her reaction to Jason would actually be like "Woah, you're dead? So if I keep on killing you, you'd come back?" And that'll probably interest her on trying to hunt down Jason multiple times, the poor man. And (if shockingly) Jason is willing to give her shelter in his cabin, I can just imagine Iris laying facedown on the ground like she's dead (cause she seems playful to me but also laid-back at the same time) and Jason would just panic (cause he's sweet like that😌) She's a charming slasher imo.

Trust me, she is super aware of what's she is doing. Knows right from wrong and all that. She just doesn't care, if she is stronger and smarter to escape common law, why shouldn't she? It's what she does, she's just a little guy. Just a little dude doing her thing. Her murderous things.

And honestly, true. She would chill for a day, day and a half and be like "aight, I'm done with this communal living. Seen enough. Time to die." And peace out. But knowing her, she likes a challenge... so she might even wake them all up and face them head on...

Oml, the Jason bit is spot on!!! She is all about entertaining herself and being inquisitive about things. She would find Jason super interesting, or any Supernatural based slasher at that. And she would totally hunt him down let's be fucking honest poor man will be livid with how fearless this bitch is

I normally pair her with Bo, Michael or Danny because she would LOVE to pester them like crazy. The potentional of comedy or angst of these ones. 😂

Also the last jason bit I- 🥺🥺🥺

She is such a bastard, she would do that. She has done that to Finley so many times. Giving everyone a heart-attack because she finds it funny. Jason is gonna be so annoyed 🥺

I hate to admit it... but Iris is quite charming when she wants to be. She posed as Finley's girlfriend once and everyone at work was eating it up 💀

[gremlin-writes-angst]

The Life of an Ackerman: Chapter 1

Jean Kristen X FTM!reader

3k words

My longest chapter so far ( I think)

Trigger warning: Transphobia( No slurs or deadnaming, just ignoring new name) mentions torture and death ( no death or torture but the words are used)

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged!!

I haven't said happy pride month so happy pride month and I thought it was fitting to say here because this is both gay and trans.

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

Being born an Ackerman wasn’t easy, especially when your father was Kenny the ripper. Your father never had much restraint, for booze or women, when the two mixed Kenny had no problem, most of the time the booze amplified his pleaser. It was no different the night you were conceived, Kenny had his booze and women who worked at the bar. They didn’t love each other, they might not even like each other. You could describe their relationship as a drunk flirt and a waitress who was tired of it, and knowing the best way to get rid of the man was to do what he wanted. She was partially right, because, after one night together, Kenny left her alone, and which was exactly what she wanted. Then three months later she discovered she was pregnant, and Kenny was nowhere to be found. While she was pregnant she investigated Kenny and where he could have gone, and by the time you were born your mother knew where Kenny lived and she had no problem doing the same thing Kenny did to her, she disappeared.

Kenny wasn’t thrilled to find a baby at his door, with a note claiming it was his own. Though he wasn’t the best person, he wasn’t going to leave his own infant, so he raised you, more like trained you. You learned how to protect yourself and others, how to hurt and kill people at the age of 10, you never killed, you just knew how. You missed the innocence of only knowing how to kill because you couldn’t go about life as Kenny the Ripper’s child without killing someone.

At twelve you started to change, you had discovered why you felt so disconnected from your body. You slowly began to change your appearance to be more like the boy you were, even if your body was a constant reminder that you weren’t. You told your father about these feelings when he questioned the change in your appearance. You know he would catch your lies if you tried, so you told him the truth. Telling him that you wanted to go by Y/n instead of the name your mother gave you, you wanted to be called he/him like the rest of the men instead of she/her that you’d been for the past twelve years. He never called you by your old name again, but he also never called you y/n, he called you a nickname which is how he addresses most people. To him, you were now ‘kick’ short for sidekick cause that’s all you were to him.

Being his son and being trained since you were a child, you became a member of the Anti-personnel control squad. Even though you didn’t agree with his stance, you were still forced to work for him. He had told you almost everything about Reiss family and the Ackerman family, and what he hadn’t told you, drunk Kenny told you. So you knew more than most and you formed your own opinion. All for nothing though because you were still forced to work for him and against the scouts. Though being his son and learning the skills of Kenny the Ripper, and being forced to work with him, brought you to working with the scouts, so how angry can you be.

After Kenny died, you grieved and then healed rather quickly, it was important to be able to get over people, you learned that from your dad. After healing you came up with a plan, you hunted down Levi Ackerman, a man that your dad had mentioned more than once. He was an Ackerman along with the captain of the survey corps, you need to meet him. There was a lot your late father had taught you, like manipulation, or blackmail, and because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut you had enough information on Levi to do what you were taught. Though your plan underestimated Levi and fell to pieces when the man caught you.

You were sneaking around the survey corps base, when you felt someone pull you back along with the feeling of a knife against your neck, you knew it was him when he spoke.

“You have three seconds. Who are you and why are you here?”

“ I’m y/n Ackerman”

“Bullshit.”

He pressed the blade further into your neck, it reminded you of your father’s signature move.

“It’s not. I’m the son of Kenny Ackerman, your uncle. Making me your cousin.”

Even with the information which should be shocking to him, I can’t feel any changes in his heartbeat or the pressure his knife has on my throat.

“What proof do you have?”

“I know you are from the underground. I know your mother’s name, Kuchel. I know about your mother’s job.”

You could have continued but Levi didn’t seem to like what you already said and stopped you.

“How do you know that information?”

It was a stupid question, you expected a smarter man. But it must run in the family cause calling him stupid out loud is just as dumb as his question.

“That’s a stupid question, Kenny Ackerman, my dad told me.”

You now felt a change in pressure of the knife on your neck, shockingly it didn’t press deeper but released just a little.

“Did you just call me stupid?”

It was a rhetorical question, and the tone sent chills down your spine. If he hadn’t moved the knife away you would except he was going to murder you. After seconds of torturous silence and stillness, Levi fully removes the knife from your neck. You weren’t free though, he still had the knife ready, now aimed at your back instead of your neck. You weren’t so stupid to try and move, you would be dead in a second if you did such a thing.

“Smart cookie arent you.”

He was testing you, he wanted you to move so that he could strike. But since you didn’t he had no reason to believe you would later.

“Move forward, and don’t make any movement that I don’t instruct you to.”

You start to move down the corridor, trying to determine the right speed knowing that if you move too fast or too slow you’ll be in trouble.

“You are going to turn and enter the next door on your left. Then you’ll turn right and wait by the door.”

His voice was more demanding than before. You spotted the door he talked about, and when you reached it you turned left then right, stopped, and waited at the door as instructed. Levi was right behind you as you entered the room, but he now stood to your left, right in front of the doorway.

You were afraid to make too much movement cause his eyes and kife were still trained on you. Without moving anything but your eye you survived the room, noticing that multiple scouts were cleaning the room.

“Connie and Jean come here.”

Levi yelled into the room, two men approached him. The short one with almost no hair, stood in front of Levi ready for instructions. Then the taller one with brown hair and a long flattish face, stood slouched as if his sergeant wasn’t in front of him. The shorter one hit the taller one, who then straighten his posture. It was funny in an attractive way. Levi turned to the short one and began to give him instruction.

“Connie, go inform Hange that we have an intruder in custody who may be lying about their identity, they’ll know what to do.”

Connie left as soon as Levi was done talking and had now turned to the taller one, and by process of elimination you figured out that he was Jean.

“Jean I need you to find something to confined this intruder with, rope would probably work best.”

Jean moved to a cabinet right next to you and pulled at some rope.

“Good thing we just organized sir or else it would have taken me ages to find this.”

It wasn’t a super finny joke but it was funnier than what you had heard in the past month, and a laugh passed right through you. The was quick shuffling and you realized everyone’s eyes were on you. They all know how strict Levi was and that you laughing wasn’t something Levi instructed. When they realized Levi wasn’t going to do anything they got back to work.

“Jean tie this man’s arms behind his back.”

You had never been called a man and once again your emotions slipped through and a smile reached your lips.

Jean approached you and put his hand on your shoulder, turning your body so you were facing the cabinet the rope came from. He began to tie your arms, tight enough to restrict your movement but not the blood flow. While he works he talks, whispering so only you hear.

“Thanks for laughing at my joke, no one does, it also takes balls to laugh at one of my jokes when your under Levi’s knife.”

Ironic. His hands finish tying yours and he guided you back to Levi.

“Sir I’ve tied the intruder, where should I take him.”

“That won’t be necessary, I got him for now. Everyone finishes cleaning this room, it better be spotless when I return from the torture chamber.”

He takes me from Jean and pushes me out of the room, and toward what I can only assume will be my death or wish for death.

“See you soon, or maybe not.”

“Jean!!”

Jean calls out from behind followed by others yelling at him for the insensitive joke. I smile even if it is a joke at my possible death.

You know sat on the floor of what you assume is a torture chamber, it’s dirty, which isn’t a shock. Suddenly the door opens and Levi walks in and behind him comes a taller person with glasses and a determined face. They seemed to be at the end of a conversation.

“Oh another Ackerman, exiting!”

The taller one practically jumps closer to you.

“We don’t know if it’s true. That what you are here for.”

Levi closed the door behind the two of them still trying to take away your last name.

“Oh come on, what would a poor thing like this lie. Especially lie about being related to you.”

The person stood over you, staring at you intensely, but they talked as if you weren’t there.

“I don’t know, but I do know that Kenny isn’t the father type.”

“I can’t argue with that. I never claimed he was the father type.”

You laughed at the idea of your father acting like a father to you.

“Pipe down brat. Only talk when we ask you a question.”

Levi silenced you.

“Wow, no kick to the stomach. Have you gotten soft?

The person mocked Levi, they also started to investigate you, but never touched you.

“Non-sense.”

That’s all Levi said in defense of the person’s accusations of his emotional strength. You found it Ackerman-like, Ackermans don’t need to defend them selfs over stupid accusations.

“You’re pretty good at spotting lies. So I want you to tell me when the little twerp lies.”

“So no torture, why bring him here then? I think I was right, you’ve gone soft. But no complaints here.”

The person finally addresses you.

“Hello I’m Hange, and it might be your lucky day, As long as you don’t lie, we won’t touch or harm you.”

You weren’t sure if you were allowed to nod so you stay still, Hange continued.

“So you claim that your and Ackerman, to be specific y/n Ackerman. Are you sticking by your original statement?”

You were tired of the constant questioning of your true identity.

“Yes, I am y/n Ackerman!”

You snapped a little.

“Feisty, that’s the Ackerman attitude!”

They turn back to Levi.

“I don’t think they’re lying but I’ll continue.”

They turn back to me.

“Is your father Kenny the Ripper, also known a Kenny Ackerman?”

It was only the second question but you were already sick of the interrogation.

“Yes.”

Hange turned back and walked to Levi.

“Still no lie detected, I don’t have any more questions, because you won’t tell me the rest of the story.”

They nudged Levi with their whole body.

“So you believe he’s an Ackerman. Their little proof of what he says”

When Levi finished, Hange added to what he was saying.

“And less against it.”

They sounded smug.

The two of them left, you were left in the gross dark room. You were also left dark in the sense that you had no clue what they were discussing you knew that what they decide will be your future.

Eventually, the door opened and Hange came in, more excited than they should be.

“A new friend!”

They grabbed you and lifted you onto your feet and began pulling you out of the room.

“Oh sorry, I was supposed to ask before touching you.”

Even though they sounded sincere, they continued to pull you around.

“The cadets and others always tell me that I should respect others space”

They continue to pull you until you arrived at a room, they opened the door and pulled you in, then sat you on the bed.

“Welcome to your new room, it took some convincing but we agreed that at the very least we should keep you in our sight. So your kind of trapped here now, but I promise it won’t feel that way!”

They left and closed the door, but before you could relax they rushed back in.

“Whoops, guess I should undo those restraints.”

You had forgotten about the restraints, they had been on practically all day. You stood up from the bed and turned around so that Hange could undo the rope. You thought back to the person who did the restraints, you thought about his face and his hands and his voice, his laugh that was caused by his own joke. You tried to remember his name, it rhymed with bean, and started with J.

“Jean!”

When you remembered his name, it slipped out, not quietly.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,”

Luckily for you, Hange was talking about the very person you were thinking about. Either way, you became embarrassed. Soon enough Hange left, and you were alone with your thoughts.

You stayed cooped up in the room you were given. There was one door, zero windows, one bed one dresser, and a mirror. There wasn’t much for you to do, the only clothes you had were what you were wearing. You had no reason to leave, no birds to watch and you didn’t even consider looking in the mirror. The boredom had finally reached you, and you couldn’t think of a way to cure it. Luckily for you, someone came to the rescue.

The door open and as it opened Jean came into sight. He had a towel slung across his shoulder and a bucket in hand. He scanned the room and upon seeing you he froze, then coughed a little, while a blush crept up his cheeks.

“Sorry, I thought this room was empty.”

He didn’t make any movement to leave or enter, he stood there staring at you.

“Well, now you know. So are you going to leave or come in, or have you become a statute?”

He started to move inside your room, you had expected him to leave. He must have noticed the confused look on your face, deciding to explain himself.

“Levi’s strict about the cleanliness, so either you clean this room or let me.”

He has a stupid smile on his face as he offers the bucket and pulls the rag off his shoulder, also offering it to you.

“I’m not cleaning, so have fun.”

“That’s what I expected.”

He started to clean the room, but he eventually became tired of the awkwardness of being watched in silence.

“So you have no worries that I’ll snoop on you or steal from you?”

You changed your position on your bed, now sitting legs crossed.

“Yeah cause the man who makes terrible jokes is going to steal something from me. No, I just don’t have anything for you to steal or snoop.”

You responded sarcastically but also felt there was no reason to hide the truth so you told him, in the end, to clear up any confusion.

“Oh so you think that I wouldn’t be able to steal from you, you must be confident. You are you that you are so confident.”

He was joking with you, your glad a strict scout wasn’t the one who was cleaning your room.

“Someone who you restrained less than five hours ago.”

You thought it was weird that he was acting so normal around someone that was labeled as an intruder.

“You’re clearly not much of a threat if they let you in such a nice room.”

You laughed at his detective skills.

“Real though who are you, intruder.”

Without knowing your name, he only knew you as the intruder and decided to use it as a nickname.

“I’m y/n!”

He waited for you to continue but you never did. You didn’t think Levi would want you exposing yourself as an Ackerman.

“No last name?”

He questioned, but you’ve been here before and always answer with something that shuts most people down.

“Lots of people don’t.”

He took your answer, as most people did.

“Yeah, I guess you right.”

The room went quiet again as he continues to clean. Every once and a while one of you would strike up a conversation. You need to stretch your legs, got up, and walked to the door and back, which earned you an earful from Jean about making the floor dirty when he just cleaned it.

Eventually, he was done and had to leave. He opened the door about to leave but stopped when he heard your voice.

“Before you go, can I have my sock back?”

He turned around with a slight shock on his face.

“I guess you have a right to be confident. And you really did have nothing else for me to steal.”

He dropped the sock next to your shoes. He grabbed the door handle and began to close it while saying goodbye.

“See you around, Intruder.”

You assumed that this was going to be a countenance thing, and you don’t mind.

[skellebonez]

Monkie Kid Headcanons Part 2: Red Son and Demon Bull Family Backstory

Follow up to this post, with a lot more heavy thinking needed this time. Since these characters technically had backstories in Journey to the West, I wanted to really think over how to work those into what we have in the show (even though it kinda doesn’t 100% work and is really messy if you overthink it since the show throws some stuff to the wayside). This took me multiple days to work out so I hope it at least makes sense.

Warning: This one actually gets very VERY dark with emotional and psychological abuse detailed in the later half, so I am putting all of these under a read more. Seriously. I want you to be aware of this before you click that button. Do not ignore this warning please.

I PROMISE that part 3 will be a lot less heavy. I just wanted to get this out so I could finally move on from it.

First, gonna preface this with the fact we all know Monkie Kid is not 100% accurate to Journey to the West. Characters that are supposed to be dead are alive after all, and Red Son’s existence in the show itself in particular kinda makes no sense when I overthink about him. Red Boy is evil in his first appearance, but comes back redeemed way later in the novel (and with his name changed to that of an actual deity who had already existed outside of JTTW with a completely different backstory).

In reality, JTTW is fiction based on historical events and Monkie Kid is made to be a kid’s show and was never going to be accurate to the novel. Not even adaptations of JTTW are. So basically, I headcanon this: in the show, JTTW the novel exists as a highly accurate and very important piece of historical novelization (a non-fiction novel). But like most examples of real non-fiction novels (like Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood), it is not entirely accurate and there are bits and pieces that do not line up. It is, however, incredibly close to 98% accuracy and anyone in it who reads it is impressed.

That being said, Red Son did study with Guanyin for quite a few years (though he was not entirely redeemed like his book counterpart, he was getting there). He actually did learn a lot and was pretty darn happy to be under her teaching at the time. Mostly because he didn’t know what was going on outside...

Unfortunately, later portions of JTTW confirm that Red Son being taken... completely ruined Monkey King and Demon Bull King’s friendly relationship. So that, combined with other events in the Fiery Mountains, it is incredibly likely that is why DBK was so bent on ruling and taking out Wukong for good. He wanted revenge for a lot of stuff Monkey King did.

Before we get into the depressing stuff, I personally headcanon that DBK was actually just. Dead. Completely dead. That is why he went from being covered in floof to being big buff body builder man. Hair does not grow back when you are dead. Removing the staff completely revived him. I needed a silly weird headcanon in here ok?

Since Princess Iron Fan calls him her husband, not her ex-husband as he had divorced her to be with Princess Jade Face in JTTW, I think they either reconciled at some point or PJF... didn’t exist? Since LMK is a kid’s show the later is more likely... but this is my headcanon. Given her personality in the show and book I think it is possible that they mutually divorced due to losing Red Son, DBK remarried, then realized he still loved PIF and wanted to go back to her and she took him back.

We don’t actually know much about PJF so... uh... I like to think she was shockingly chill about it and is just living comfortably somewhere else now. And never wants to see Monkey King again. I hope she is living her best fox spirit life.

Also unfortunately, DBK did not stand a chance and when he was sealed it took a major toll on PIF. She was left alone, her renewed husband either trapped or dead under a mountain and her son kinda sorta still arrested by a deity. This made her more distant to everyone and a lot more cold.

When news of what happened to his father reached Red Son, he pleaded with Guanyin to be allowed to leave her teaching to stay with his mother. He knew what isolation felt like and did not wish for her to feel the same any longer. Guanyin trusted her disciple and allowed him to return to his mother permanently, if he desired. Alone.

This was a mistake. Oh boy was this a mistake. Heaven should have either sent someone else completely or had someone accompany Red Son to PIF to help her because this one decision is why everything in show happens.

At first things go pretty well. PIF is definitely in need of support, but she is ecstatic to see her son again. And that lasts. For a while. Until she starts to project onto Red. She starts to blame him for being captured, for not being strong enough to take out Wukong when he had the True Samadhi Fire, for not being there to keep DBK from leaving her, for not being there to help his father fight Wukong a second time. Everything is Red Son’s fault now.

This simmers for a while before it starts to come forth to the surface. She starts being colder and more distant and giving Red little jabs in their conversations. She says them so sweetly it always takes Red a second to register what she says. 

“Oh Red Son, if only your father were here to see this. Too bad you weren’t there to save him.” “I love you my son, even if you can be useless at times.” “Princess Jade Face would have loved you I bet, but you were far too busy with the celestials to visit. I understand.”

This starts to wear Red down after a while, until he starts to believe his mother. He WASN’T there when he father was defeated, he COULD have taken care of Wukong, he WAS the reason his father left his mother. She was as warm and loving to him as she was when he was a small child when he came back but now? Now she’s as cold to him as anyone else.

She is never outright physically abusive, that is below her in her mind. But other things? Like not having his meals prepared along side hers? Insulting him as casually as saying the sky is blue? Pointing out every mistake he makes when writing or working on a project? Taking his things and “losing” them, only to “find” them days later in a place she told him to look and telling him he needs to be more careful? “Mistakenly” locking Red Son in his room and ignoring his yells and pleas to be let out? Those are on the table.

And this is when he becomes obsessed with getting back in her good graces and starts to push aside his teachings from Guanyin. He just wants his mother back.

His mother does not come back... but his old self does.

Guanyin does not learn of this until long after it is impossible to convince Red Son to leave his mother. She has the kneejerk reaction to just take him back by force but... for some reason she does not. She lets him stay. Perhaps she does not want to make the wrong decision again. Perhaps she feels she taught him everything she could. No one really knows. She does not discuss this.

After a while PIF does lessen her emotional and psychological abuse, once she is certain Red Son will never leave her. She even starts to treat him nicely, like her son who she always loved, like a mother again, even praises and defends him from others again (and Red Son eats it up because this is exactly what he wanted and just fuels his determination to prove himself and stay in her good graces). And at the time the show begins she has come to terms with the fact Red Son was not, in fact, at fault for anything and even regrets this portion of her life.

Make no mistake, however, her treating him less bad, even well at times, now does NOT in any way absolve her of how she treated him in the past. She is still abusive and she has done nothing that could truly set anything right. She still calls him things like “her sweet useless boy” and pulls shit like the racing episode. It’s not really any better. It’s just not actively as bad as it used to be at the moment.

DBK in show did not notice how PIF had changed because in the pilot he was too distracted with being revived and as the show went on he was too distracted with the power of the White Bone Spirit calling to him.

Upon a rewatch he actually seems to be under WBS’s thrall multiple times before episode 10, such as the racing episode where we can clearly see his eyes glowing with possession blue, and I think this affected his personality a bit. Not much, I think he was still neglectful and cold to Red Son from the get go, but WBS probably exacerbated the worst parts of his personality long before taking over completely.

But I think he sure does notice NOW that the thrall no longer has him. Whether or not he does anything about this is up in the air, however. It is entirely possible he falls fully into neglect and does nothing to stop anything.

Red Son knows, very deep down, that his father is neglectful and his mother is abusive. He knows. He just won’t admit that not even demons are like this to their children. Won’t admit that he doesn’t deserve it, that he never deserved it. Because he loved his mother deeply before he left. He loved her when she convinced him he did. And he still loves her, and his father. He’s stubborn. He doesn’t want to give up on that.

It is going to take a LOT for someone to show him that he deserves better. But having his father back has not been everything he had hoped it would be and now... now it may be possible for someone to reach him. At least convince him that SOMETHING needs to change.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

New York Best Friend

This is my first fic for @thatesqcrush​ Holiday B!ngo: Naughty or nice

Pairing: Nick Amaro x Reader (I KNOW the pictures are of Miguel- let a girl dream)

Square: Holiday Party 

WC: 1904

Warnings: Smut

Enjoy x

Really you were killing two birds with one stone. You were getting out of Manhattan for a couple weeks over Christmas and you were going to spend some time with Nick while you were away. Liv had approved you for the two weeks because you worked last year, but you needed to be back in time for New Year’s Eve to work.  Even before Nick left you had a great friendship. He was a good man and you kept in contact more often than not. On your usual Thursday night face time you had given Nick the dates you would be in town. It had been just a week since you spoke to him last and he had started to grow a bread and moustache,

“Oh hey Nicky- I like the new look, you should keep it”

“You think?” Nick ran his hand over his hairy cheek

“Definitely- So I land on the Friday night”

“I have my work Christmas Party the next day” Nick said looking down at his calendar.

“That’s ok I’ll find something to do and see you when you’re not busy” You smiled at him over the screen.

“No you can come with me, I can take a plus one- you don’t get sea sick do you?”

Now here you were standing in your hotel lobby waiting for Nick to come and pick you up for his work Christmas Party. You looked at yourself in the big wall length mirror at your white maxi dress with a plunging neckline, long sleeves and a split to your mid-thigh. Your hair was pulled back in a low pony tail curled with very light make-up and black slides. You had just pulled the material on your breast’s over to adjust them into place when you saw Nick walk through the lobby doors in caramel dress pants, a white button down, navy jacket, moccasins with a beautifully shaped beard and moustache.

You spun around and your eyes met his, his big cheeky grin coming to his face. You both walked towards each other. You wrapped your arms round his neck, his around your waist and he picked you up slightly off the ground spinning you around. Nick placed you back down cupping your cheeks kissing your forehead a couple of times, his facial hair tickling you,

“I’ve missed you” Nick rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs

“I’ve missed you- LA has been good for you, you have style now” You reached up running your hand over his bearded cheek “Very handsome Guapo” You winked and chuckled.

“And there’s the smart ass I know and love” Nick put his arm around your shoulders as you started to walk out, you wrapping your fingers around his wrist of the arm on your shoulder “You look beautiful. Let’s go, the taxi is waiting”

The taxi ride over, although short was filled with a quick catch up and laughter. The taxi pulled up at the docks, Nick refused to let you pay and slid out, taking your hand in his helping you out. Nick rested his hand on the small of your back as you both walked down to the big white boat, the main entertainment area surrendered by windows, you could see the multiple Christmas tress’s set up around the tables inside and the disco lights jumping around.

“You must be Y/N from New York, we have heard all about you” A younger looking man walked up to you both shaking yours and Nick’s hand.

“I bet New York is beautiful this time of year” A younger women was right behind the other younger man grabbing your hand and pulling you with her, linking her arm with yours pulling you towards the boat. You looked over your shoulder at Nick who smiled and winked at you as you started to walk and talk with Nick’s female work mate.  As you got onto the boat that was already somewhat full, making your way around other work people, she pulled you straight to the bar to order you both a drink as the boat started to dock out slowly.

“Malibu and Pineapple juice please- tall glass” you smiled at the bar man.

“Oh same please. You have good taste. Isn’t Nick just so handsome- more now he has the beard” She nudged you in the side “He talks about you all the time, I guess that’s what best friends do right?”

You chuckled, “Yeah they do- Thank you” you nodded at the bar man who handed you your drinks.

“Do you think you could put a good word in for me? You’re his best friend, he will listen to you. He is just so handsome. I wouldn’t say no if he asks me on date or you know” she snorted.

You almost choked on your mouth full of drink. Nick seen your face and started to make his way over to you,

“I can’t promise anything but I’ll see what I can do” you squeezed her arm.

Nick came up next to you putting his hand on the small of your back,

“Everything ok?” Nick looked between you and his work mate,

“Everything is great” you smirked at Nick taking a sip of your drink.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up, must be hard living away from your best friend” She smiled at you and then looked Nick up and down biting her bottom lip.

You tried not to laugh sucking in your bottom lip while Nick looked at you stunned at what just happened. You soon forgot about what happened, making your way around the room talking and mingling with Nick’s work friends.

The drinks were flowing and dinner was delicious. You had just turned away from the bar with a new drink when the next song started to play;

‘I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need I don't care about the presents Underneath the Christmas tree I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true oh All I want for Christmas is you’

Instantly your eyes locked with Nick giving each other a small smile. Nick made a bee line for you after excusing himself form the young man you had seen when you got to the dock earlier. When Nick got to you, he grabbed your hand lightly rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand,

“Fresh air?”

“Yeah”

Nick’s hand went for the small of your back again guiding you out to the empty back deck. Nick guided you around to the side of the boat leaning up against the wall looking out to the ocean.

“What was going on earlier?” Nick was watching as the water rippled as the boat rolled over it.

You started to giggle and took a sip of your drink “I found someone that wants you for Christmas- she wanted me to put a good word in for her. You’re in buddy- the beard gets the girls clearly” He grinned and shock his head, his cheeks going slightly red “If you want to go home with her, I can get a taxi back by myself” You smiled slightly.

“She’s a nice women- but” your eyes snapped to his “She isn’t what I want for Christmas and she isn’t who I want to be going home with”

Nick’s hand grabbed the back of your neck pulling you into him for a soft kiss. His lips so soft, a spark going straight to your gut. You both pulled away looking into each other’s eyes both smiling at each other. Nick pulled you back in by your neck again, wrapping his other around your waist. One of your arms wrapping around his waist and the other still holding your drink.

Your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, tongues rolling together. You let your hand brush down from his waist to his ass cheek giving it a squeeze pushing him into you. Nick moaned into your mouth, pushing his hips into you again, pulling back looking into your eyes,

“Follow me” his voice was husky. He grabbed your hand and pulled you below deck to the bathrooms, which were shockingly deserted.

Nick did a quick scan around the area before he opened the door pulling you in and shutting and locking the door behind you, taking your drink out of your hand sitting it on the sink. Nick grabbed your wrists and pinned them up against the wall above your head, his lips landing of yours again, his tongue rolling along yours. Nick was pushing his bulge into your thigh when he pulled away and started to kiss down your neck between your breasts getting down on his knees,

“Oh Nick, that beard- never get rid of it” you managed to get out almost breathless.

Nick chuckled, now down on his knees, moving the split of your dress aside so he could kiss up your inner thigh, starting at your knee. Nick started a trail of wet open mouth kisses up your leg, the feeling of his beard rubbing on your skin almost enough to make you come just by the feeling. Nick sucked in some skin as he got to your upper thigh pulling off with a pop.

Nick looked up at you with a big smile as you ran the back of your hand along his bearded chin. He wink leaning forward, hooking his finger on the edge of your white lace thong moving it out of the way. Your mouth dropped open, one hand landing on the back of his head as Nick run is tongue up the edge of your pussy lips, licking off your wet that had seeped out.

“Oh Nick” you moaned

“Quite mi Amor” Nick nipped your thigh.

Nick licked up your lower lips again, spreading them apart with his tongue, flicking your clit when he reached it. The small room was filled with sucking noses and your heavy panting. Nick sucked your clit between his lips, sliding a finger in, and then another. You felt the familiar feeling that your coil was about to snap.

You grabbed the hair on the back of Nick’s head tugging slightly, your other over your mouth to muffle your screams. You rolled your hips down on Nick’s face. You rolled your hips as Nick sucked in your pearl, his fingers hitting just the right spot all at once and you were squealing into your hand, your release so intense you had to remember to breathe.

Nick slowed down his licks and pulled out his fingers. He stood up, turning to face the mirror and grabbing some hand towels to dry his fingers and wipe his beard dry. You fixed up your panties and dress, stepping to stand flush with Nick’s back. Your arms wrapping around his waist, one hand moving down to his hard bulge in his pants, you started to rub him gently over his zipper, his head falling forward taking in a deep breath pushing his hips into your hand,

“Going to let me return the favour?” you kissed his clothed shoulder.

Nick spun in your hold, cupping your cheeks kissing you deeply. You melted into his body and whimpered when you tasted yourself on his tongue,

“You can mi Amor- but when I get you back to your room. You’ll be feeling this beard on more than just your thigh”

Tags: @beccabarba​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @permanentlydizzy​

[marcilled]

[this is gonna be a big long post about minecraft youtuber drama... press J to scroll past this if you don’t care about that. lol. sorry]

idunno if anybody took my post the other day as me “cancelling dream for cheating in a videogame”, i posted it mostly out of bemusement of the whole situation, and because that video was really well put-together. (context: his 1.16 speedruns were disqualified by the minecraft speedrun.com moderators & there was a video & document explaining why).

I definitely don’t correlate cheating a speedrun w/ ableism, racism, etc etc. I already knew about a lot of nasty shit dream has done, like the video he did with Notch, and how all of his early content was about pewdiepie, just further normalizing those two to his young audience. I’ve always disliked him for those things, which I’ve been aware of pretty much as long as I’ve known of him, and he has never apologized for those things. It’s why whenever I posted about him before (which was... maybe once or twice?), I always say “don’t stan him or anything he sucks”.

I had no idea there was so much more to it honestly. It’s kind of galling seeing the full context now, because whenever I’ve seen any kind of criticism against him, it’s been him presenting it in an apology. I dunno why I wasn’t suspicious of this given what I already knew about him, but the guy seems to be very clever with how he damage controls any sort of possible controversy regarding him. He presents a really heartfelt, honest apology for whatever happened and gives a few cherrypicked examples of things that people said about him and says how wrong he was and how he doesn’t want to alienate his viewers.

The fact that it’s Dream presenting the evidence of his controversies, means that he gets to control how the conversation goes. Instead of a popular “mcyt” stan account getting to control the conversation, pointing out the shit he’s said and done, he addresses it in a livestream, and does not provide the original context. Huh, I wonder why. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want everyone to see that his mistakes are more than just little “oopsies”, it’s him being actively malicious and getting so defensive that he tells off anybody who could possibly disagree with his view of things.

While his actions and words are pretty horrid on their own, I think the thing that has me most concerned about Dream is... He seems pretty fuckin’ good at manipulating peoples’ perception of him.

-----

After the video about his speedruns being cheated came out the other day, he had this to say on twitter (this is his second, “personal” account):

Now, as I said before, cheating in a videogame isn’t at all comparable to racism or ableism. What I’m trying to point out here is his response to any sort of criticism.

The video he’s referring to is this one, published by Geosquare 2 days ago (dec 11th). What’s interesting to note here is how he singles out Geosquare specifically in this tweet. If you click on the video, the first few seconds establishes that it’s a video made by the entire Minecraft java edition speedrunning mod team (which is made up of a team of over a dozen people). The video and document was a true team effort from every single one of them, and it only got posted to Geosquare’s account (& got his narration) because he’s already a youtuber with a pretty comfortable amount of subscribers.

So, instead of pointing his ire (and those of his many, many fans) at the whole speedrun mod team, instead, he points it squarely on Geosquare, so that people have a convenient name to latch onto. He then accuses Geosquare of using his name as “clickbait” in order to get “easy views”, sowing the seed of this idea that Geosquare is doing this in an opportunistic grab for personal gain. If you clicked on the video and saw the description/pinned comment, you’d see that not only did Geosquare disable monetization on the video, he disabled monetization on his entire channel for as long as this drama goes on (and he knew there would be drama, dream made extra sure to threaten the mods with a video of his own in retaliation if they ended up banning him).

Then, in a reply to the first tweet, he says that there are “multiple moderators” messaging him saying the verdict was “biased” and that they may quit the mod team. He provides no evidence for this. However, if you click on the tweet and view any of the thousands of replies from his fans, it doesn’t matter that he gave no evidence, his word is enough. If you’re wondering, Geosquare and a few other mods have stated many times that it was a group decision on their part, and nobody had any question in their mind that Dream must have cheated. So... Dream, who are these “mods” that are messaging you? He won’t say.

Lastly here, I want to point out that in his next tweet on the matter, he makes this very bitter comment about how useless it was for them to investigate a “16th place run”. It’s a minor detail, but I think it’s worth mentioning; this kind of downplays how impressive his run was at the time. At the time he submitted his sub-20 minute speedrun, it was a top 5 run, in a very competitive category of speedrunning the game. In the 2 months since, several people have passed his time using new strats, but that doesn’t diminish the fact it was a pretty amazing “run”... if it weren’t cheated of course. But, I’m just rambling on about how petty I am about him cheating at this point so let me get back to the main point here.

If you see the numbers on these tweets (hundreds of thousands of likes), you’ll understand why this is pretty scary for those speedrun mods. The same day this happened Geosquare joked around “I’ve only gotten one death threat so far!”. Dream’s fanbase is unparalleled in minecraft youtube, and incredibly sizeable for a youtube channel overall. If you’re not familiar with this new wave of “mcyt” minecraft accounts, it’s... it’s pretty much exclusively because of Dream’s fame. He’s the driving force of minecraft youtube content right now. Any youtuber who even breathes near the guy blows up in subscribers & views. His minecraft server, “Dream SMP”, is like... it has a legitimate cultural impact, whether that sentence disgusts you or not. Especially for young gen Z kids.

The point I’m trying to make is, ever since he came onto the scene in early 2019, he’s grown and grown at exponential rates, and I can’t understate the kind of influence he has on not just his own fans, but the fans of like. Pretty much anyone who is plugged in to anything minecraft youtube related right now.

People have discussed this before, but Dream’s sudden rise to fame happened shockingly quick. So quick that it’s almost impossible it were by accident. He’d spent something like a year or two studying how the youtube algorithm works, how famous youtubers grow their popularity, etc. He spent a lot of time studying, and it paid off for him. It makes me wonder if he’s studied how youtubers deal with controversy as well. Because it seems like he’s doing everything right to keep his fans “loyal” to him.

So I think it’s not unreasonable to say that it is pretty goddamn concerning when he reacts to criticism like this. His immense fanbase, who are often worryingly obsessed with him, of mostly impressionable kids... It’s a recipe for disaster, in the hands of someone so entitled and immature.

I think what really has me worried, though, is a video he published to his second channel the other day. Recently, he published a video about his “stans”. The entire video essentially boiled down to him disputing claims that “dream stans” were toxic, or that stanning people or “stan culture” was creepy/unhealthy. He spent a lot of the video comparing stans of content creators to passionate fans of football teams, and expressed repeatedly how he thought it was normal and OK to be totally obsessed with a content creator and engage in “stan culture”, as long as you weren’t being a legitimate stalker. He pretty much only talked about the positives of being a Dream Stan, and how positive the “community” is. The whole video painted this really idealistic image of what it means to be a Stan of a person, and fandom in general.

Now... I don’t know about everyone else reading this, but I found that video to be... incredibly creepy and weird. It completely ignores any actual arguments about how stan culture can be unhealthy, and how engaging so heavily in parasocial relationships can be quite damaging, especially to younger people.

But, mostly? It seemed like the whole video was basically designed just to reinforce the most unhealthy impulses of his stans, and reward them with the positive encouragement that he actually enjoys it when they are obsessed with him so much that they can’t imagine he could ever possibly do anything wrong.

And that? That is fucking dangerous for a person with such a huge fanbase to be peddling to their fans.

Surely, he must know- a great deal of his fans are so obsessed with him, that they think they know him as well as, if not more than, a personal friend. So that when he does something disagreeable and wrong, and he claims “no that’s not how it happened, they’re biased and trying to cancel me because they’re jealous”, they just take that at face value, because why would he lie? He’s so honest and genuine in his videos and livestreams!

This sort of behavior from Dream, along with his tweets I posted earlier, reads to me as if he knows exactly what he’s doing. I think he is purposefully insulating his fans from the truth of his actions, so that he can present this idealistic picture of him in their mind, so that it seems absurd that he would do something wrong.

I think it’s only a matter of time before it comes out he’s done something much worse, honestly. What it is, is hard to say- he’s already done so much that anyone reading this should rescind their support for him, imo. But, I know that none of this matters to his millions of fans. While I worry for them, I also worry for anyone who becomes a target of Dream. I could see this speedrunning drama being the start of a downward spiral for him. Things could get real ugly with all that minecraft clout getting to his head... I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

TL;DR, dream sucks, and not just because he cheats at videogames.

I apologize again for writing a multi paragraph post about a minecraft youtuber. I will not post about this anymore (probably) please do not unfollow me .

[ebhenah]

ATLA, LOK and Aang as a Dad- a parent’s perspective.

I’ve been seeing some comments about how LOK did a disservice to Aang in how it portrayed his parenting- or more accuartely, how his children remembered his parenting. It makes me sad that people don't seem to realize that the show wasn't saying he played favorites. That was the perception of his children in a large part because of the time and attention given to (and arguably required for) nurturing the gifts and talents of the very rare air-benders. 

Shockingly, children's perception of their parents are not always accurate. I have no doubt that Aang adored all of his children- but they were three very different personalities, with very different needs, different learning styles, different talents, different goals and dreams and fears and flaws. Aang was the Avatar, but he was also an imperfect human just like anyone else. There are going to be people that make more or less sense to him. There are going to be people that he finds it easier to teach, to understand, to support, and to nurture. 

Most parents of multiple kids find that they resonate differently with them. It's not about loving one more than the others, it's simply that children are not cookie cutters. Each parent-child relationship is unique. It's sad and poignant that they were unable to deal with the hurt they carried from their childhood with their father before they lost him, but that is how life works sometimes. 

I have 3 kids- 2 are a lot like me, and their brains make sense to me. I know how to reach them and we share interests. The other child is not much like me at all, and we don't hang out as much, but I love them every bit as fiercely as their siblings. They amaze me and surprise me all the time and I am beyond proud of them. Kids need a wide range of things from us as they grow up. Sometimes, those needs conflict and parents end up having to prioritize one child's needs temporarily for reasons that don't make sense to the kids and just hope that it all balances out in the long run. 

Aang and Katara clearly loved their children. We see the legacy of that love in how they treat their own loved ones. Sometimes, sadly, love doesn't translate very well through disparate love languages. "Easy" children can feel ignored and forgotten compared to louder, more demanding siblings. "Challenging" children can feel like their parents see them as too much work. Shy kids of outgoing parents can feel like they get lost in the shuffle. Outgoing children of shy parents can feel isolated and lonely. Athletic children of artistic parents and artistic children of athletic parents can feel like they aren't understood or appreciated. 

Beyond that, people experience shared interactions differently, so a passing comment made my a tired or stressed out parent might cut much deeper than they ever know. A human mistake like a broken promise or not being able to afford something the child wants can stick with a kid. 

Parents (even Aang) are just people. 

No one can be all things to all people. No one is perfect. We change and grow and learn. We screw up and fall short and overreact. It happens... and it has almost nothing to do with how much we love our kids. We can be great parents 90% of the time and still our children will remember the 10% of the time that we weren't what they needed.

I don’t think it is all that surprising that Bumi and Kya feel like Tenzin got more attention. Tenzin was the baby of the family and it is a common refrain of older siblings that the baby of the family got more attention, fewer punishments, and generally treated differently. A big part of the reason that is such a frequent complaint is that parents learn. Parenting has a steep learning curve, and the big screw-ups carry the potential to have huge consequences. Over and above the fact that we tend to get better at something the longer we’ve been doing it (like caring for children), our life situations change over time. For example- my eldest sometimes complained that my younger children have a more constant/stable home and get more attention than he did at the same age. This is because when he was that age I was still in the workforce and we were still renting apartments with roommates, and since then we’ve settled into a family home and I no longer work outside the home. Those external changes allowed for major shifts in how I parent. Kya’s comment to Tenzin that he was the only one who travelled with Aang in response to his fond memories of ‘vacationing’ with their father is no doubt true, but doesn’t automatically prove favoritism. Bumi appears to be about a decade older than Tenzin. By the time Tenzin was old enough to be forming those memories, Bumi and Kya very likely had busy, bustling lives that would be disrupted if they travelled with Aang. Friends, schooling, hobbies... roots. Some children don’t travel well. Additionally, the world very likely needed different things from the Avatar when he started his family than it did over a decade later.

And, let’s not forget that Aang was literally the only person who could teach Tenzin how to access and hone his air-bending. When faced with the conflict of being needed in another part of the world but also needing to be available and present to train his air-bending son “bring the kid along” is the only real solution- but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t feel like he was choosing one kid over the other to the children, themselves. Even if they understood on a logical level, the hurt and resentment could still linger.

Legend of Korra could be (and likely is) very accurately portraying how Aang's children remember him without that meaning that Aang was a bad father or that he played favorites, because there was an entire lifetime that happened, and the things that hurt are the things they need to heal from. His children are not going to remember every single time that nothing bad happened to them, because those periods are normal and boring.

They were raised by parents who had gone through a lot of traumatic stuff at a very young age and who were always under extreme pressure and scrutiny. They grew up in a world that was recovering from war, genocide, and oppression, and was reforging itself into something new and better. They were surrounded by people who idolized their parents and saw them as larger than life. Whether the kids were aware of it or not, they also grew up in a world where they were at risk of being targetted because of who their parents were. That risk likely factored into many of the decisions Aang and Katara made about who went where when. (IE- keeping one child safe during travels is a lot easier than keeping three of them safe. Taking care of two children while your spouse is travelling is easier than juggling the needs of three of them.) All things considered, if the worst parental baggage Bumi and Kya carry with them decades later is that the two of them feel like their father loved them but he loved the child with talents that tied him to his own childhood, his own culture, and every loved one he had before they were massacred a little bit more then I think Aang probably did an exemplary job as a father.

[panharmonium]

Hey, do you ship merthur? I have conflicted feelings about it because Merlin does love Arthur but also their relationship is kinda shitty.

short answer: i do not

longer answer: i might not be the right person to ask about this, because i don’t really “ship” anything?  it’s not how i engage with fandom.  (disclaimer: this is not a value judgment of folks who do engage with fandom that way.  just an explanation of how my own brain works.)

extra long answer: under the cut, because i suppose it was only a matter of time before someone asked me about merlin/arthur, and i might as well put my entire response in one place so that next time, i can just link to it.

questions like this are a little tough for me to answer, because i am completely uninterested in romance as a premise.  if it’s not there, i don’t care.  if it is there, i often wish it weren’t, because it’s almost never developed in a way that lives up to my standards.  i don’t always mind if something contains romantic relationships (provided they’re written well), but i don’t want them to be the point of a story.  i honestly cannot think of anything less interesting to me than a story that has as its main plotline “x character falls in love with y character.”  for me, in my brain, it’s like, “okay...that’s it?  do you have anything else to say?”  there is literally nothing about that that i care about.

this can be a little difficult to navigate in fandom, because one of the oft-heard commendations of “fandom” is ‘gosh, fandom is so wonderful, we can watch the same two characters fall in love again and again and again in a million different scenarios!’  which is true, for the people who care about that sort of thing, but that’s not actually ‘fandom.’  that’s shipping.  and there’s nothing wrong with shipping, but shipping and fandom are not the same thing, and they’ve become so conflated that it can be very difficult to engage in the latter without being absolutely swamped by the former.

many times, for me, fandom can feel synonymous with shipping.  there was a post i reblogged recently whose tags described shipping as often feeling like a prerequisite to engaging with fandom, and that is often what it feels like to me, particularly in fandoms where one ship is so ubiquitous that any and all other material is utterly dwarfed by it in scale.  (for me, my last two major fandoms have been merlin and teen wolf, so - i’m sure you see my dilemma, heh.)

all of that said, in terms of arthur and merlin specifically...

disclaimer: everything i say here is relevant to me only.  these are my own feelings.  i am making this post on my own blog, in my own space, in response to a question about my own thoughts.  i do not want, expect, or need anyone else to share these thoughts.  any commentary i make about fandom trends is not equivalent to condemnations of individual people’s opinions or shipping habits.  i do not mind or take issue with folks who ship these two characters.  i am glad you are having fun.  please do not @ me about something you disagree with.  i promise you it is not necessary.

okay.  with that out of the way.  

part of me is reluctant to expound further on this question, because my personal philosophy is that merlin and arthur as a ship have had more than enough time and space devoted to them in this fandom (way more than their share, frankly) and i generally prefer to focus on merlin and the other people in his life, as a deliberate counter to that.  but, since you asked, and because i have been experiencing the “i’m tired of romance” bug more strongly lately, here is the long-form version.

the number one reason why i don’t ship arthur and merlin is what i already outlined above: i don’t really “ship” anything.  i have never looked at two characters who were not already together/on an obvious potential path to being together and said “i want them to fall in love.”  that has just never happened to me.  (again - it’s not a BAD thing to have this happen, it’s just not something that’s ever happened to me.  i can’t relate to the experience.)

therefore, when i do appreciate a romantic relationship, it’s pretty much always because canon has shown me something romantic (or clearly pre-romantic) that i find to be well-written and compelling.  (it’s rare - as i outlined before, i would usually rather not deal with romance at all - but it happens.)  

arthur and merlin, then, never had that effect on me, because arthur and merlin, as depicted in the canon, are not in love.

[to anybody reading this who just snatched up their keyboard and started furiously typing, i beg you - please go back and re-read my disclaimer.]

they’re not in love.  the truth about these two is that if i had watched this show without having grown up in fandom as a culture (and without knowing exactly what kind of ships fandom immediately sees EVERYWHERE) the idea of anybody shipping these two together would never have even entered my mind.

(and like.  because i DID grow up in fandom, and i DO know exactly what kind of ships fandom sees everywhere, i knew before i even started this show that arthur/merlin was going to be an inescapable thing.  but that would not have been the case, if i had watched the series in a world where i didn’t know what fandom was.)

arthur and merlin, in canon, are not in love.  the show never does anything to give me an inkling that either of them are harboring romantic feelings for each other.  that is never what is happening onscreen.  literally the last thing on merlin’s agenda is romantic attachment, ever, and arthur is never, ever shown to be in love with anyone who isn’t gwen.  the show, onscreen, never tricks me, teases me, or leads me on.  i was never under the impression that merlin and arthur were in love with each other, because they weren’t.

but that DOES NOT MEAN their relationship matters less.  just because they aren’t IN love with each other doesn’t mean they don’t love each other, and one of those things is not bigger or better or more powerful than the other.

i struggle a lot in fandom (all fandom, not just merlin) with the persistent idea that romantic attachment is the peak, the natural endpoint on a scale of “how deep is your love?”  i am constantly running up against posts where the commonly accepted structure is to cite a moment of devotion or caring or some instance of basic connection between two characters, and then add a caption or tag saying ‘because they are JUST FRIENDS, right?’ or ‘^^totally platonic interaction between characters who are not at all in love, sure jan.’  

and honestly?  i hate that.  that is one of my least favorite things about fandom.  it makes me so tired.  

i am completely disconnected from this idea that there are like...things you can do that are too caring to count as friendship.  like - that there is too much devotion you can show, and if you go over the limit, then it’s laughable that you would do those things for “just” a friend.  that’s so unpleasant to me.

(and i do think [when it comes to non-canon queer ships, anyway - straight ships unfortunately have no excuse, sorry y’all] that part of this probably has its roots in pushback at the tendency of people who try to “gal pal” actual queer ships (or literal real life relationships), so this, at least, is something i can understand.  i’m queer myself; i get that.  and that is why i will never like - attach myself to someone’s post and start complaining.  people can vent however they want.)

it doesn’t change my own feelings, though.  i hate seeing every meaningful friendship i’ve ever been invested in talked about like it’s just a romance in disguise.

other things: i am uninterested in romance as a motivator.  

truly, from the bottom of my heart, i don’t care.

we are, at least in my corner of the world, oversaturated with romance, to the point where any piece of media that doesn’t include it in some fashion is shockingly bizarre.  it is EVERYWHERE.  it is in EVERYTHING.  i cannot pick up a book without running into a romantic plotline.  i cannot watch a movie or a tv show without being forced into multiple romances that i don’t care about.  (rare exceptions apply, as always, but i’m speaking generally.)

this oversaturation, for me, means that romance as a storyline no longer holds any meaning for me.  i see it EVERYWHERE.  it is in literally EVERYTHING.  making merlin into a “love story,” for me, makes the show so much less interesting, because there are billions of love stories out there.  love stories are practically the only kind of story our media remembers how to tell!  why would i take a story that is so unique in its exploration of deep friendship (that isn’t even quite friendship, because it’s not real, but merlin wants it to be real, but making it real would also destroy it) and loyalty (that isn’t necessarily deserved, but is still offered, but is damaging to the person offering it) and love (that exists in spite of arthur’s position as the oppressor, but still cannot erase merlin’s oppression, and is patently not a magical fix for the very real problems merlin is facing), and then want to water it down to “and then they fell in love”???

merlin bbc has so much to say about the transformative, redemptive power of love (not just romance), and the bonds we form with each other despite the fact that we don’t always deserve each other, and what we can do to make ourselves better, and how do we make amends for the ways in which we hurt the people we care about, and it is so complicated and there is so much beauty there and i adore it specifically because it is one of the rare pieces of media out there that doesn’t prop up romantic love as the most important and powerful force in the universe.  romantic love is not what moves the story.  merlin’s love for the people around him is based on compassion.  it’s bigger than the familiar and overused ‘i am desperately in love with this one individual person and that’s what drives my actions,” which is a premise all of us know has been done to death.  merlin’s love is not about romantic attachment.  it’s a deep, abiding love for humanity.  it’s based on hope, and faith, and the inherent belief that everybody matters, even in their worst moments.

condensing that kind of story into “and then they fell in love” erases its meaning for me.  it makes it trite.  uninteresting.  i have seen “and then they fell in love” fully sixty thousand times.  “and then they fell in love” has been done so often that it is utterly devoid of power for me.  boring.   i literally do not care.

other people might feel differently, and find a romantic love story compelling.  i don’t.  

i’m guessing the message that prompted this essay is asking me to evaluate how i feel about the “goodness” of the merlin/arthur ship, aka whether it’s worthwhile to ship it or not based on how healthy/unhealthy it is, which i definitely can’t answer, because i don’t think whether it’s “good” or not really matters.  i am definitely too old to be riding the newer wave of, uh...idk, purity culture type stuff that is so oft-debated on here, lately.

but you’re absolutely right, anon - merlin and arthur’s relationship IS kinda shitty!  it 100% is.  it doesn’t mean you can’t ship them, though, if you want; otherwise i wouldn’t be invested in any aspect of their friendship, either.  

the fact that merlin and arthur’s relationship is kinda shitty is an essential element of the show; it’s the microcosmic representation of the macrocosmic problem merlin is trying to solve, and even with that being the case, we can see clearly that this also doesn’t preclude them from having real moments of connection and care and love.  this is the contradiction i have to keep in mind whenever i engage with them in the friendship sense - merlin has been wronged by arthur in so many ways, and yet he still loves him and believes arthur can do better, and yet his dedication to arthur really does destroy his life piece by piece, and you really have to walk a line between those extremes and be thinking: in what ways was this a noble, honorable path for merlin to take and in what ways was this damaging, and was it all worth it in the end?

we probably wouldn’t still be watching this show if we didn’t ultimately think the answer to that last question was yes.  but there are also equally valid ways in which the answer is, truthfully, no, and i think really the only important thing when dealing with merlin and arthur’s relationship (in whatever capacity you prefer) is to keep that dissonance in mind.

so, to more directly address your question, when it comes to my interaction with the source material, i don’t ship merlin and arthur romantically because i don’t see romance when they interact in canon, and i don’t think their relationship could be improved or made more interesting/more meaningful by adding extra-canonical romance into the mix.  that’s really it.

but the other side of things is this: even if i were granted someone else’s ship-goggles to somehow see romance between these two (eg, once, in the distant past i read a harry potter fic that was so well-constructed it sold me on a relationship i didn’t [and still don’t] actually see in canon), i still wouldn’t choose to ship merlin and arthur, and it’s not because they’re a “bad” ship (no such thing, folks - tag your stuff and let people live their lives, thank you), it’s because this fandom has already been swallowed by them and i cannot bring myself to make that imbalance worse.

trying to be in the merlin fandom without shipping merlin and arthur is just...a little bit difficult sometimes.  i think probably even people who do ship merlin/arthur are aware of that.  sometimes it can feel like merlin/arthur is a given in this fandom, not one of many options - as if you’re not in the merlin fandom, but rather the merthur fandom, and you know you really, really do not belong there.

and it’s not even a canonical ship!  it’s not even real.  and yet if you like this show, and you want to engage in the fandom, your experience is, without exception, going to be chock full of merlin/arthur content by default.

essentially, my struggle with the merlin/arthur dynamic in fandom is two-fold:

1) the strikingly imbalanced content distribution

the merlin fandom, in terms of content distribution, is a pretty accurate mirror of merlin’s own existence, to be honest, in that pretty much every aspect of it is eventually taken over by arthur pendragon, and in that there’s a reasonable debate to be had about whether or not that’s a good thing.

(spoiler alert: it’s not.)

even so, it is what it is, and as i said before, me commenting on fandom trends is not meant as a condemnation of individual preferences.  people like what they like!  that’s just how things are.  shipping arthur and merlin isn’t a Bad thing to do, by any means, and the fact that so many people do is just, you know, bad luck for me, lol.  but at the same time, the wildly unbalanced distribution of content does make it more difficult for folks who don’t ship merlin/arthur to engage in fandom with quite the same level of ease, and even though it’s nobody’s fault, it is still perfectly reasonable for people who don’t ship merlin/arthur to be frustrated about that.

fanfic is a pretty good case study for how this plays out.  i saw a post a while back that was titled something like ‘merlin bbc gothic,’ and the first bullet point was “canon ships are rarepairs,” and HOO BOY, that is true.  stats-wise, merlin/arthur makes up ⅔ of the merlin fic on AO3.  ~25,000 fics.  the next most popular tag after merlin/arthur is arthur/gwen, but arthur/gwen have ~2,900 fics in their tag.  and when you remember to exclude any instance of merlin/arthur from the arthur/gwen tag, that number drops by another thousand, to ~1,940.

that’s buckwild.  come on.  merlin/arthur has twenty-three THOUSAND more fics than the next most popular (and CANONICAL, i might add) ship?  and every other ship’s numbers are even lower than that?*

and if you don’t want to read shippy stuff in the first place, like me - the merlin “gen” tag has less than 8000 fics in it, by comparison, and then you STILL have to filter merlin/arthur out of the gen fics, leaving you with about 6300 - which number has to be filtered down further to remove OTHER ships that still make it past the gen filter.

in comparison to 25,000.

like.  i’ve been in fandom long enough that i’m not surprised - mean, i came into merlin directly off a teen wolf phase, and boy, that’s a whole other bowl of noodles right there, with added squick factors that are irrelevant here - but i’m still just...man. 

it still makes my head spin.  and it is still frustrating, every time.

*(there is a lot more to be said about how gwen fits into all of this, and i know it has been discussed more thoroughly in other places, but yes, another reason i am leery of arthur/merlin as a thing is that i’m just...not super comfortable with what that implies for gwen and her position in the story.  even if i personally am slightly more compelled by gwen/lancelot, technically - i still don’t quite feel comfortable taking gwen out of her canonical place.  she belongs at the top.  she deserves to be the love interest and she deserves to be the queen.  and like - people can say that her relationship with arthur isn’t “developed” or “convincing” enough to warrant retaining in fic, and i get it, the show really did fail gwen in S5 - but i still don’t buy that argument.  people literally INVENTED a romantic relationship for themselves and put 25,000 fics worth of effort into building it up; there is no reason why an “underdeveloped” canon romance couldn’t have gotten the same treatment.  except, of course, for the fact that one [Black, female] character was being shoved aside to make way for yet another two white dudes.)

(and i’m not saying that everyone is doing this deliberately or maliciously.  but we all know this is a cross-fandom trend.  there is literally no reason for the gap in content to be THAT wide.  a canon relationship with twenty-three thousand fewer fics than an invented ship?  just...that is a stat that bears thinking about.  it doesn’t mean that merlin/arthur is a “bad” ship, or that you can’t prefer lancelot/gwen, but it IS still important to recognize these patterns where they occur, across fandoms, and to really think about what they mean.)

2) the arthur-goggles

my second struggle with merlin/arthur in fandom is the ubiquitousness of the arthur-goggles, aka: the tendency in fandom, as in canon, to make everything in merlin’s life about arthur, and everything in the show about merthur.

this one specifically really gets to me.  i am very committed to the idea that merlin is a complete individual, whether arthur is there or not.  i write a LOT of meta about merlin being a whole person, specifically pushing back on the idea that merlin was “born” for arthur’s benefit - my motto is basically that “merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon,” and the way his life begins to revolve around arthur pendragon in later seasons is not in fact touching or romantic or beautiful; it’s a tragedy.  merlin does not exist only in the context of his relationship with arthur; he possesses worth outside of his mission to save the prince of camelot, and he was already a complete person before he ever met the prince of camelot, and one of the many issues we have to think about when dealing with arthur and merlin in any capacity is how merlin is told from the get-go that he is supposed to devote his whole life to arthur, but arthur is never given any such reciprocal responsibility.  

merlin and arthur’s relationship, just like the distribution of content in this fandom, is wildly imbalanced.  merlin spends all of his spare time thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person.  he is constantly working to keep arthur safe and happy.  but arthur, at the end of a long day, doesn’t spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he just goes home and goes to bed.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he is never told his life isn’t his own, that he is supposed to be one half of some two-sided coin.  only merlin is told that his entire existence is earmarked for someone else, that his life’s purpose is to be someone else’s better half.  only merlin is expected to devote his entire being to someone else’s betterment.  only merlin is expected to say demeaning, self-abnegating things like “i was born to serve you.”  

arthur, by contrast, is allowed to have a life of his own.  he is allowed to exist on his own terms.  he is never told that his worth is dependent on how well he can prop someone else up.  and while fic might like to imagine merlin being the most important thing in arthur’s life, in canon that is just not the case.  

merlin exists on his own merits, and the idea that he does everything he does just because “he’s in love with arthur” will never sit right with me, because it’s simply not true.  merlin and arthur’s relationship is important to both of them, yes, and of course it is undergirded by deep love and care, but it is also way more complicated than that.  merlin’s investment in arthur’s life - and his grief at arthur’s death - are NOT solely driven by his love for arthur as an individual; they are inextricably bound up with a sense of obligation and duty and self-worth and, eventually, failure, because he’s been told that protecting arthur is a) the only thing that matters about his own life and b) the only way to free his people and save an entire kingdom.  and i think ignoring this very real complexity in favor of “merlin does what he does and feels what he feels because he’s in love with arthur” cheapens the depth of the story and flattens merlin’s character.

arthur-goggles automatically make everything about merlin/arthur, though.  so the difficulty, for me, with merlin/arthur as a ship, is that it can be hard to make/find things about merlin that people don’t instantly, always try to link back to arthur in some way.  merlin is not allowed to have things that are just his, and he can’t exist in a state where arthur doesn’t somehow factor in - no matter how unrelated to arthur something is, or how non-shippy it’s meant to be - there’s someone out there who’s going to loop it back to merthur in some way.

just like - scattered examples of things I’ve encountered:

all of merlin’s non-arthur love interests on AO3 having massive chunks of their ship tags actually being merthur fics, with the non-arthur ship serving solely as a stepping stone on the way to getting merlin and arthur together

readers, on fics that are specifically designated as focusing on merlin+someone else and in which arthur does not appear, leaving comments asking “so how long until arthur shows up,” “can’t wait to see arthur,” etc

meta about how ‘merlin’s time in camelot was actually really bad for him as a person’ being reblogged and modified by someone else with an addition like “but merlin doesn’t regret a second of it because he wouldn’t have known arthur if he were anywhere else,” and the OP having to reblog their own post and explain that this is literally the exact problem they were trying to critique

in fic, merlin’s friends being utilized only as vessels with whom he can have discussions about his developing relationship with arthur

etc etc

it’s not always huge egregious things, but wearing arthur-goggles means EVERYTHING comes back to merthur in some way, which for me is just...really insulting to other characters, and really limiting in terms of story analysis.  

so, for example - this is a VERY specific example that few will relate to, because i am probably the only person on here who has ever tried to search the tag for merlin’s friend will from ealdor (a niche fave of mine) - but with him, especially, it is very hard to avoid bumping into a lot of people wearing arthur-goggles, because everybody seems to imagine him as merlin’s ex, who is only upset about what’s going on in 1.10 because he’s jealous about arthur appearing alongside merlin, never mind that will and merlin have known each other since birth and have a relationship that LITERALLY predates arthur by two decades.

so with him, as an example - the other day, i saw some post in the tag that was like “will gets teary when arthur makes his inspirational speech in ealdor because he finally understands what merlin sees in arthur and he can’t be mad anymore”

and that is just patently untrue.  it is not even remotely close to a legitimate interpretation of what is happening in that scene.  will hasn’t come around to arthur’s way of thinking yet; he literally still packs his things and leaves after this happens, and he is - i mean, first of all, he’s not crying, lol, and he stalks out of that scene weary, angry, and fed up, because he thinks the village is delusional and all of his neighbors are going to get killed in the morning.  his arc - his dissatisfaction with what is going on, his anger at the ignorance arthur wields as a nobleman with all of that wealth and privilege, his resistance to the big “let’s fight kanen’s men with sticks” plan - that is about him and his history and who he is.  it is not about an (imaginary) merlin/arthur love story.  

but when the arthur-goggles are on, all roads lead to merthur.  even when the other characters in question (*coughWILLIAMcough*) would be beyond mortified to have merthur, of all things, assigned as their motivation.

SO.  now that i’ve gone over both the canon and fandom aspects of my reasoning, the succinct summary in response to your question is just that no, i don’t personally ship merlin/arthur.  because:

a) i don’t see it b) the fandom is already trying to drown me with it and i choose to center other characters out of spite c) i just think merlin deserves better lol

however, as i said in my disclaimer - that doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t ship and enjoy it!   merlin/arthur is very much not my cup of tea, but that’s no reason why other folks can’t have fun with it.  i think the best portrayals of it, probably, will be those that keep in mind exactly what you said - that merlin and arthur’s relationship is “kinda shitty” - but this is fandom, so if what folks really want to write is just lots of happy AU’s with no issues, then they should go for it!  the point of fandom is to have fun connecting with people over a shared love of something, so i am happy to let others have fun doing their thing, and i will just be over here doing mine. 🙂

[recentanimenews]

Made in Abyss: Dawn of the Deep Soul – Trials Make Love Stronger

I finished the first season of Made in Abyss three years and a week ago, commenting that while I ached to know what would happen next, a long rest was in order, so that I might recover from the emotional wounds throughout that first run, culminating in the shockingly brutal story of Mitty and Nanachi.

Turns out no amount of time would heal those wounds to the extent they wouldn’t be re-opened and—very soul freshly re-crushed—upon watching the continuation of the Abyss story. That’s because the deeper Riko, Reg, and Nanachi descend, the more acute and devastating the horrors they encounter.

This is the third of three Made in Abyss films; the first two were a retelling of the first season, while the third is a direct sequel As such, spoilers throughout.

Case in point: upon arriving at one of her mother’s favorite spots in all of the Abyss, the Garden of Flowers of Fortitude, they encounter one of Bondrewd’s delvers, the Umbra Hands, harvesting tissue from other delvers who have been infected by a parasite that not only feeds off you while you’re still alive, but feeds itself to you in order to keep you alive. Lovely!

Few anime do soaring vistas like Abyss, and there’s something just so otherworldly and dread-inducing about the sight of the Fifth Layer’s Sea of Corpses, along with Idofront, Bondrewd the Novel’s domain. But as cold and unyielding and inhospitable as the spinning ghost city seems on the outside, within resides one of the sweetest, warmest, most human souls they’ve yet encountered: an adorable little girl named Prushka.

Prushka is Bondrewd’s daughter (voiced by Minase Inori), who is initially suspicious of outsiders coming to help her dad when she thinks she should be enough. But once she meets Riko, Reg, and Nanachi, they open for her a whole new world of questions and information about the Surface (she was born in the Abyss).

It’s so strange to see Prushka acting so lovey-dovey with Bondrewd, perpetrator of countless acts of sickening biological crimes, especially since he and his Umbra Hands resemble evil robots. And yet that evil robot still has a strange gravitational pull Nanachi finds hard to resist. Nanachi can’t forgive Bondrewd, but something still draws them toward him. Nanachi was something of a child figure to him, after all, so Nanachi sees Prushka as a younger self.

Bondrewd has bad news for Riko: while she may have her mother’s White Whistle, only the person for whom the whistle was made can use it to activate the altar that will take her down to the Sixth Layer. He offers them accommodations to “think things over”, but there isn’t any doubt his intentions for them are about as far from harmless as they’re all far from the Surface.

Despite her cozy room, soon Riko wakes up alone, and upon exploring, finds that she’s trapped in a small area with the only exit being a stair Prushka warned will cause “strains of ascension” if climbed. When Riko attempts to climb them anyway, she loses all sense of touch and balance, grinds her baby molars away and falls down the stairs, gaining cuts here and there. But she hallucinates far worse: as the very concepts of what and where are gradually eaten away by white light.

Ultimately, the reason Bondrewd does anything all comes down to curiosity and the aspiration to reach the bottom of the Abyss and learn its infinite secrets, same as Riko. It’s just a matter of scope and scale. Riko has managed to retain her humanity throughout her descent. But while has the affable dad voice and general form of a man, there is simply nothing left of Bondrewd’s humanity.

After Nanachi offers to stay with him and help him continue his research in exchange for Riko and Reg’s safety, Bondrewd tells them that, uh, unfortunately, he’s already tossed Reg to his Umbra Hands, who restrain him, slice off his right arm (along with Incinerator) and start collecting his bodily fluids. That’s when Riko, who was helped up to the upper level by Prushka, intervenes, and Prushka learns the truth about her father for the first time.

With Bondrewd showing his true horrific colors loudly and proudly, Nanachi, the most experienced with how he operates, comes up with a plan to take him out. This involves luring him into a nest of giant seven-tailed scorpions, trying to infect him with parasite larvae, and finally Reg crushing his body with a giant boulder.

Naturally, Bondrewd praises both Reg and Nanachi every time they toss a new tactic at him, saying things like “wonderful” and “I’m surprised.” After all, Nanachi is one of the creations of which of which he is most proud, one who unlike Mitty and the others was able to receive the “Blessing” of the Abyss rather than fall victim to the Curse. You’d could mistake it for fatherly pride if, again, Bondrewd had a shred of humanity. But his willingness to offer love and pain and suffering in equal measure disqualifies him as both from being either a parent or a human.

None of the tactics against him end up working, because the Umbra Hand who escorted Prushka simply takes the mask off of the crushed Bondrewd and places it on his head, thus transforming into a new, untouched Bondrewd. Turns out all of his Umbra Hands are him—and his immortality is tied to a relic called Zoaholic. The fight ends for now, and Bondrewd returns home with Prushka.

If Zoaholic didn’t make Bondrewd insane, the act of splitting his soul and essence into multiple bodies still removed what was left of his empathy or humanity, which is why he ends up having Prushka cruelly vivisected just like all of the other orphan children before her. He’s satisfied her experiences with Reg, Riko, and Nanachi helped “perfect” her, and this is the natural next step. She is never told this would happen, and never asked if it’s okay.

Her body is marked with “X’s” to signify the parts that will be cut away and discarded (most of it) until all that is left is a mass of “fleshy curse repellant” to be placed within a suitcase-sized cartridge. It is in this way that Bondrewd staves off the curse; using the pain and suffering of still technically-living children as his strength.

It’s truly skin-crawling, horrible, horrible stuff, and even though I had a reasonable suspicion that Prushka was doomed to a Mitty-like fate, I was still not ready to see even a little of that fate carried out, nor would I ever be. No one would!

By the Riko, Reg, and Nanachi return to Idofront to rescue her they’re way too late, while the sight of the “processing” room brings back Nanachi’s memories of assisting with said processing. When Bondrewd arrives, Riko and Nanachi they buy time for Reg, who hooks himself up to Idofront’s power supply and ends up rebooting in Berserk Mode.

Bondrewd tells Riko that his own White Whistle is the result of sacrificing his own body and soul, and that all White Whistles are made in this way—with a willing human sacrifice, not carved stone.

It’s then when Berserk-Reg arrives and fights on the same level as Bondrewd, ultimately blasting a huge sphere-shaped chunk out of Idofront. He lands in a pit of Mittys—material for Bondrewd’s cartridges, and we’re reminded of all those lights on the wall representing their lives are labeled: he remembers the name of every child, their unique qualities, and how cute they were. Shudder…

As Bondrewd and Reg are locked in an epic battle, we hear Prushka’s disembodied voice as she recounts her life with Bondrewd, starting as a failed subject. He decided to raise her as his daughter, gave her Meinya as a pet, and gave her a fun and happy childhood, ultimately culminating in her helplessly watching as pieces of her are removed one by one on the operating table.

We hear Prushka because she’s now a cartridge that Bondrewd is currently using in his fight, and ends up being his last cartridge. Even after what he did to her, she still wants to help her dad achieve his dreams—even if it means helping him fight against Reg, Riko, and Nanachi.

Thus aided by Bondrewd, Reg can’t defeat him with one arm, which is why he was buying time for Riko to retrieve his other arm. Even disconnected from his body, she’s able to aim it at Bondrewd and fire it, blasting him to pieces.

As this is happening, Prushka pleads with everyone not to fight, because they’re all going to have adventures together. An image of that dream appears in the climax of the battle, and is pretty much the most heartbreaking goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.

Then Bondrewd falls to the ground, finally beaten, and Nanachi stand over him. True to form, Bondrewd isn’t bitter about losing; on the contrary: he’s never been happier to find someone with stronger aspirations, will, and love defeat him. It means they, not him, are worthy of exploring the greater depths of the Abyss, and all the curses and blessings therein.

Riko holds the spent cartridge of what’s left of Prushka, simply red liquid that spills everywhere, and very understandably begins to bawl in absolute despair. But then she notices an object lying in the puddle of liquid: a White Whistle. Turns out Prushka’s soul willingly became the sacrifice necessary for Riko. Now her dream of going on adventures together can be realized.

With that, Riko gains the means to make her Last Dive, along with Reg (who learned a great deal about what his relic body can do) and Nanachi (who found a degree of closure in her vendetta with Bondrewd). Bondrewd, oddly enough, is still alive (after a fashion), but no longer a threat to them, and indeed is happy to see them off as they enter the “elevator” that will take them to the Sixth Layer, that much closer to Riko’s Mom, whatever’s become of her.

Quite appropriately, the end credits pull double duty as an illustration of that elevator descending ever deeper  into the Abyss, accompanied by an achingly gorgeous song that is a collab between MYTH & ROID and Kevin Penkin. Penkin, of course, also contributed the score and outdoes himself in the task; his music has been and continues to be a vital piece of what makes Abyss so unique an special.

It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to end this in less than 1500 words, but whatever; this was basically four episodes of the anime comprising a Fifth Layer arc, enshrining Bondrewd the Novel as one of anime’s all-time most monstrous and compelling villains, exploring the ways ambition can mutate “love” into a heartlessly destructive force.

It also ably reinforced Abyss’ uncanny ability to tear its viewers’ hearts and souls to bloody shreds before painstakingly sewing them back together with delicate threads of hope. And with a second season in the early stages of production, the story of Riko, Reg, and Nanachi is far from over.

By: magicalchurlsukui

[veliseraptor]

fic rec meme: 2019 edition

Rules: Post links (Ao3, ff.net, etc.); specify fandom/pairing/etc; don’t answer the same fic twice - spread the appreciation; tag other people; you don’t have to answer all the questions, but leave them in the list so the next person can answer if they want.

I was tagged by I think a couple people - @aphrodaisyacs and @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys. I’m going to try to keep this pretty short because I have a tendency to go on and then not finish these kinds of things because I overwhelm myself. 

I also cheated a bit on a few (a lot) of these because I read a lot of really good fic this year. And tried to include some recs I haven’t seen from others in my circle/fics I don’t see recced that often (though that’s not true of all of them).

I also shuffled things around so I didn’t repeat them, though a lot of these could be included in more than one category.

1. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (multiple chapters/parts): I did not read a single complete multichapter fic this month. Meant to, but didn’t do it.

2. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (one-shot): The mirror has a mirror in its teeth by deadendtracks. Peaky Blinders, Tommy/Lizzie, messy as hell in the way that I love.

3. Favourite WIP you’ve read this month: But I’ve read so many good WIPs this month. I’ll go with Contraction by NamelessDragon, MCU, Loki/Bucky, sequel to Compression (also amazing), which I’m finally catching up on after being stuck on reading almost everything for months.

4. One fic/series you’ve read which you keep coming back to again and again: (those yesterdays bleeding through by wnnbdarklord (MCU, time loop set during The Dark World) comes to mind, as, of course, does Bargaining by proantagonist (alas! for its vanishing), but to pick one that kept coming up this year I’m going to have to go with the nine in the tree by bereft_of_frogs, MCU, Thor & Loki-centric, post-Ragnarok AU.

5. Most underrated fic you’ve read this year: It feels like cheating to do this for a small book fandom, but you know what? My small book fandoms deserve more love. Based on lowest kudos I’m going to go with that he on dry land loveliest liveth by skyvehicle, Lymond Chronicles, post-Pawn in Frankincense. 

6. Most underrated fic you’ve read EVER: God, I don’t know. Again, it would be a small book fandom. You know? Because it deserves it and I love it and it probably is the most underrated fic, if only because it’s in a tiny fandom - In Memoriam by Tedronai, Malazan: Book of the Fallen, I love grief/mourning fic.

7. Favourite whump/angst fic of the year: This was tough since this is the genre I read most of in general, but because I managed to get a lot of fics on here via other categories, I’m choosing Into the earth I trampled it down by deadendtracks, Peaky Blinders, grief/mourning featuring Polly and Tommy. This fic was ouch all around, and beautifully written, and excellently characterized, and just...well, I’m clearly going to be reading everything that deadendtracks writes from here on out.

But I’m also going to slide In Cold Blood by NamelessDragon (MCU, Loki & Bucky, canon divergence AU) on here too, because it just updated and it really is fantastic, and I am so excited for more. It has all my favorite tropes written all over it, and promises some truly excellent whump based on the writer’s history.

8. Favourite hurt/comfort fic of the year: Again, a category with a lot of faves, but I settled on Walked In These Quiet Hazes by ratsats, MCU, AU where Loki comes back from the dead and is majorly fucked up, as is most everyone else. It’s rough, and it’s beautiful. And calling it “hurt/comfort” is probably...well, it takes a while to get to the comfort, I can say that, but it’s worth it. 

9. Favourite fluff fic of the year: Did I. Did I read any fluff this year? I suppose some of the Good Omens fic I read probably qualifies, though it doesn’t feel like fluff to me so much as...comedy? Wait, I’ve got one: Love Wounds Me With Soft Pillows by verbaepuchellae, Lymond Chronicles, Francis/Philippa, post-Checkmate.

Oh yes, after I wrote this I found another one: such surpassing brightness by Handful_of_Silence, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale. Beautifully inventive, and fits into a very specific genre I can’t get enough of.

11. Favourite smut fic of the year: Shockingly, I didn’t read a lot of smut this year. I’m going to go with The Beast That Chose It’s Own Bridle by thespectaclesofthor, Doctrine of Labyrinths, Felix/Murtagh, post-series, (less than) kink negotiation, WIP. 

Oh, and also Chains of Gold by Anonymous, Lymond Chronicles, Lymond/Gabriel, hoo boy. My glorious Lymond/Gabriel fic I received for Yuletide. I can’t wait to find out who wrote it so I can lie down on their doorstep and beg for them to write more like this.

10. Favourite gen fic of the year: The Thanos Problem by Ranowa, MCU, post-Ragnarok AU. Okay, this is technically a series, so sue me. I especially liked When the Hammer Falls.

12. Favourite fix-it fic of the year/ever: This might be the hardest one. I read a lot of fix-it fic this year. I wonder why. I’m going with “the year” because otherwise it is just far too overwhelming and I couldn’t choose.

After a lot of debate with myself, and by eliminating other fic by virtue of sliding it into other categories, I settled on two: the only soul I’ve ever saved by valkyrisms, MCU, Loki survives Infinity War fix-it. I overall got pretty quickly annoyed with the genre of Loki-and-Peter Parker fics, but this one was just...so good. The Peter voice was amazing, the working with Loki’s Jotun biology as part of the whump was inspired, it was well written as all of valkyrisms work is, and just...so good. 

The other (I told you I was cheating!) is Keep It In Your Sights Now by LuckyDiceKirby, Shades of Magic, Lila/Kell/Holland, fix-it fic. I needed this fic in two ways - the threesome it involves, and the fix-it it involves. Delivered on both.

13. Favourite crack-fic fic of the year: I really don’t read crack-fic anymore.

14. Favourite sick-fic this year: Castaway by ariaadagio, Lucifer, Chloe/Lucifer, is me cheating again because “sick-fic” it is only loosely, but I want to include it because it was very good. Though I think technically I reread it this year. Apparently I didn’t read much sick-fic? Weird.

15. Favourite kid-fic this year: Another thing I don’t read very often, and apparently this year (at least based on my bookmarks) don’t have a rec for. 

15. Fic this year which you didn’t expect to love as much as you do:  Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm, Good Omens, therapy fic. Okay, so, in premise and everything this did have “me” written all over it. But I certainly didn’t expect to find it, and I definitely didn’t expect it to be as good as it was, right down to making me love an OC (which is rare).

16. Fic which convinced you to ship a pairing: This is cheating because technically it was another fic on this list, but since I wouldn’t ship it without it I’m going to rec As much what it is as what it’s not by deadendtracks, Peaky Blinders, Tommy/Lizzie.

17. Favourite AU you’ve read this year: I slid some of my fix-it fics over here, because canon divergence AUs are my jam and maybe that wasn’t the intent of this question but I don’t care. 

After some debate with myself, and rereading several favorites, I’m settling on my fearful trip is done by valkyrisms, MCU, the one where Steve runs into an unexpected child of Thanos in Wakanda. It’s real good, you guys. And yes, this does mean that I’ve put two valkyrisms fics on this list and I’m not sorry.

18. Longest fic/series you’ve read this year: This one’s easy! Eden!verse by ImprobableDreams900, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale, the first fic in the series made me cry more than anything I’ve read in years.

19. The last fic you’ve read: The last new fic I read, since I reread a bunch of new things on this list while I was sorting through what I was going to choose, was to prove they are not dead by alreadybroken.

20. Wildcard fic you haven’t mentioned but deserves a shout-out + why: I waffled back and forth between two fics and what the hell, you know what, I’m going with both. The first is Miles to Go by josiepug, Peaky Blinders, which satisfied my desperate Tommy whump itch (for a time, it’s back now); the second is Where Is the Power That Made Your Pride? by Drag0nst0rm, The Silmarillion, aka the one where Celegorm lives and things are still bad. Not an AU I knew I wanted, but I guess I’m not surprised. 

Bonus Category: 

Best horror fic: dark underground//violent sky by bereft_of_frogs, MCU, I can’t tell you more than that because it would spoil it. I love horror fic and I have missed it since leaving Supernatural fandom. This one scratched that itch and I’m still thinking about it. Maybe it’s time for a reread.

As usual, I’m sure I’ve missed/forgotten some faves. I always do. 

I...lord, I feel like most of the people I’d usually tag have already been tagged for this? If you’re a mutual of mine and you haven’t been, go for it! I’m always excited to see more recs.

[efrmellifer]

Acta Diurna

“Deep breath for me,” the midwife cooed. “Now hold it.”

Etien held her breath, biting her lip to keep air stilled in her lungs.

“Good,” came the soothing voice. “Excellent. And let the breath out.”

Now Etien exhaled, settling back against her pillows again. “Did it sound good?”

“It did! I heard multiple heartbeats, but they were so closely synchronized that I couldn’t count how many exactly. However, if you were having triplets or more, I think you’d be more overtly carrying at this point.”

“So twins?” Aymeric asked, finding his voice and looking up at the midwife from where he was sitting.

“That would be my best guess, though be ready for a surprise when the delivery day comes.”

Etien cleared her throat softly. “And am I still free to travel for some time?”

“For now,” the midwife replied, the way she dragged it out signaling that there was a caveat coming. “Though anything risky should be probably be cut out now, rather than any later.”

“So no Diadem,” Aymeric murmured, coming to Etien’s side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, dearest.”

Though her expression betrayed that she was put out, she just shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Speaking of eventualities…” The midwife looked between the two of them. “I’d say you have about a moon left before you’ll need to be on bed rest. Light bed rest, to begin with. Walking around the forums occasionally would be good for you, I think. But staying close to home and seated or lying down primarily is the goal. As you progress, we’ll see how things settle and if you’ll need to be under stricter rules, but you’re strong and you seem healthy. So I think you should be all right.”

Etien smiled, her nose crinkling a little bit with the gesture.

Aymeric watched tiredness starting to seep into Etien’s expression, and hurried to get things wrapped up. “Thank you very much, I’rixa,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound like he was trying to usher her out. “Is there anything else we need to keep in mind at the present moment?”

“You both need to get enough sleep. You look tired, ser. She may be undergoing the physical process, but you’re experiencing a lot of change, too. Moreover, you can’t take care of her if you’re exhausted.”

“True,” he conceded. “Wonderful, thank you again. I can show you out.”

“I’ll be back in another moon and a half,” she reminded them both, then followed Aymeric out the door and down the hall.

When he returned, he sighed, leaning against the door frame.

Etien was rubbing her temple.

“Have you a headache again?”

As she turned her head, she dropped her hand back to the covers on the bed. “No. I don’t, fortunately.” She shook her head. Then she sighed. “We need to tell the Scions.” It came out in the same tone as any other groan she’d offer up when she had to do something she didn’t want to.

“Ah. That we do. I must admit, I’m surprised they didn’t find out from the Alliance.”

Etien had gone back to rubbing her head in a vain attempt to self-soothe, but she stopped abruptly. “Gods, you don’t think they did, do you? It is odd that they haven’t asked after me—”

“I have never taken Merlwyb for a blabbermouth, nor Raubahn and the Sultana. Kan-E-Senna, I would imagine, has only told the leadership of the Adders, since you cannot do Serpent errands either.”

“I would never speak ill of the Alliance leaders, but that certainly is a lot of trust to place in them.”

Aymeric looked at Etien and remained silent for perhaps a beat too long as he thought. “Etien. The same as you wouldn’t speak against the Alliance, I won’t speak against the Scions. That being said, I do think that if they had caught even a whiff of what’s been going on, they would have marched right into the manor and been interrogating you as if you had returned from Garlemald.”

Etien coughed.

“Well. You know what I mean,” Aymeric corrected, looking away. “Fury help me, the midwife was right. I do need more sleep.”

With a silent grin, Etien patted the open side of the mattress next to her.

“I slept the day away last time I had a day off. And you were much more capable of taking care of yourself back then.”

“I’m still capable of taking care of myself!” She couldn’t help but sound just a touch indignant. Though if pressed, even she wouldn’t have been able to explain why. It wasn’t like she wanted to force herself into not relying on Aymeric, especially when he was offering himself to be relied upon.

“I—that was a poor choice of words, and not what I meant.” He admitted. “What I had been trying to say was, the last time I had a day off like this, where Lucia took over for me so I could be with you and do with the hours what I willed, I was entirely selfish and slept. But now, it would be better if I were to give you the attention you may require, and for that, I would need to stay awake.”

“All right, darling, but I am asking you to get into bed with me. You don’t need to do anything but lie down.”

“And how many times have I heard that?”

Etien clicked her tongue. “This, and I still invite you into bed.”

He settled under the covers when she lifted them for him, and curled himself around her immediately, head near her belly and arms around her hips.

“I find it strange how slow the change is, and yet one day, it will all be unmissable.”

“And it’s not even your body,” she replied. “It certainly is weird.” She blinked slowly, her drowsiness becoming apparent again. “What are we going to tell the Scions?”

“Perhaps the same words we gave Estinien.”

“Hardly seems fair to Estinien,” Etien mused, letting her arm settle around Aymeric’s shoulders. “We’ve taken him for a lover. He should have something so momentous to himself, don’t you think?”

“I do; you raise an excellent point.”Aymeric thought. “As of this moment, what do you want to say to them?”

“Well. Something to the tune of ‘While the road does go ever onward, and I know I cannot—and so I will not—refuse to walk it, I have taken a detour. I am to be a mother, and so I’ll need time, while the kits develop and after they’re born, to hang up the mantle of Warrior of Light. I can’t bear the weight of the star on my back and the weight of my children on my hips.’”

“Well said. How do you propose to tell them this, o will-worker of the star?”

She huffed. “Sounds too much like Minfilia. And I do not want to be compared to her. Though maybe that’s harsh.” She shook her head to clear it. “Regardless. A letter is all wrong. And using the linkpearl is laughable. Nothing for it. I’ll have to go to the Rising Stones and speak to them in person.”

“Dear-heart, please don’t go to Mor Dhona. Think of it—the gloom. The wildlife. Everyone and their brother seeking an adventurer. It’s too dangerous for you right now.”

“What else can I do?” she asked, sounding resigned but genuinely pleading for his guidance.

Aymeric sighed. “I’ll write a letter. In it, I will ask for one of them. They can choose whom to send.”

“Oh Aymeric, do you think that will go well?”

“How could it go poorly? They know and admire you.”

“If they send Alphinaud, he’ll lose his head, Alisaie might just get angry that I’m letting her win, Urianger will load me down with tomes about pregnancy and cross-bred infants, Y’shtola will laugh me all the way out to Falcon’s Nest, and Thancred will be Thancred.”

“What about Tataru?”

“Oh. She’d tut and pat my hand and start sending food over. Maybe shed a tear about how it was only yesterday she made my bridal gown and now she’ll need to make baby clothing.”

“Do you want me send for Tataru specifically?”

Etien was silent for a long time. “No, but I will write her a personal letter about all this.”

When they received word that one of the Scions was on their way, they’d held their breath waiting.

But when the Scion envoy arrived on the Borel doorstep, Etien realized they had forgotten one important variable.

G’raha Tia.

_

G’raha couldn’t deny that he was a little hesitant as he followed the servant down the hall to the sitting room. He’d seen Etien seated here once or twice when he’d peeked in on the Source before (and once, caught her in a nap), but it was odd to now be sitting there with her.

Fighting alongside his hero when she needed his help was one thing. Resting himself in a chair in her sitting room was a whole different matter. It was like he was seated on a live wire, not quite comfortable, even in a plush, well-built chair.

But the room wasn’t really the issue—it could have been part of any Ishgardian noble’s house. It was the still shockingly young woman seated within it opposite that was unsettling him slightly.

He had never noticed how young Etien still looked. But then, it made sense, didn’t it? She was only 25 now, her 26th nameday coming up in the next moon of Halone. Just after Starlight and Heavensturn.

He knew all this by rote, of course. The Tale of Etien: Left home at 19, adventured in the three city-states for nearly three years, ended the Dragonsong War in Ishgard, liberated Ala Mhigo and Doma, and then… well,  he knew all about what came after that. He’d lived through the last year with her.

He hadn’t gotten to properly celebrate her nameday when he would have had the chance, while she was on the First. Because she hadn’t been. She’d slipped home for Starlight, and then stayed. A little hiccup in the time running parallel had her only gone for a week on the First, though she’d spent three on the Source. But G’raha couldn’t then and couldn’t now find it in himself to be upset that she’d gone home to celebrate.

But all that was in the past now. Marked indelibly on time’s surface, and immutable. They’d all come home, and he was in hers, completely too quiet as she looked at him.

“Hello, G’raha?”

She looked well, and he commented as much.

“Thank you. I suppose I should be grateful I still have my appearance, when it’s been a rough last handful of years.” She laughed. “Anyroad. Do you know why you’re here?”

“The Lord Commander—er, Lord Speaker?—Ser Aymeric sent a letter saying that you and he required the attendance of one Scion of the Seventh Dawn to receive and bear a message back to the others at the Rising Stones. Etien, is everything all right with you?”

“I am healthy and happy. But whether the message you take back following that is good news, well, that is where our opinions may diverge about all things being well.”

G’raha tipped his head, ears bobbing with the motion. “How could any news be bad news, if you’re doing well? I don’t think any of us could blame you for wanting a break. Even the most devoted of the rest of us have had days we put our feet up and called for tea to be brought.”

As he said that, a pot of tea was indeed brought, placed next to Etien alongside a dish laden down with a croissant split down the middle, one half smeared with a nut paste and the other with fruit preserves.

“A bit late and light for a lunch, isn’t it?” he asked.

She laughed. “Oh, I had my lunch. This is so I can keep my energy up. And the tea—rooibos tea, if you were wondering—is for the soothing sensation of the warmth. Not to mention, it’s a habit I would be hard-pressed to kick, so we modify it that I may still indulge safely.”

G’raha laughed at the formality of her diction. “You sound like you’ve become quite the noblewoman in the, I’d say, close to four moons you’ve spent here again?”

She snorted. “In my defense, I was quoting Whitecape.”

“A capable chirurgeon.”

“Very much so.” Etien sighed, crossing her legs at the ankles in front of her. “But we didn’t call you here to talk about the head chirurgeon, or to pick apart my changing speech patterns.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“Shh, put it out of your mind. I was only teasing. In any case, this break will be longer than just a day spent reading in bed. I’m about to be under medical supervision while I stay in Ishgard. I don’t need a vacation; I’m taking maternity leave.”

“But you’re the Warrior of Light!”

He watched something darken in her expression, looking much the way clouds passing in front of the sun did.

“G’raha, I ask this with all the love in my heart. Are you aware that I’m a real person?”

“I—what? Aye, I do. My referencing the stories was not because I thought they were in any way made up—”

“No, that’s the problem. You heard the stories, all that time ago, before we met and all that. You read Edmont’s memoirs, didn’t you?”

“I did!”

“So you knew, the day you met me outside the Sentinels, what was waiting for me. Knew already how I was going to bleed and spit and cry, and—I don’t think I wanted you to warn me, that’s not what I’m saying. You know that for all I’ve done on Hydaelyn’s pillar with the star on my shoulders that I’m just a scared little girl?”

“You never seemed that way to me. You’ve always been able to rise to the occasion, always been a hero. My hero.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you you had me afraid that I was about to be very much alone, my companions frozen in a sleeping deathlessness, you dragged me away from my husband mere weeks after our wedding, and you almost got me killed by Zenos so you could have me help the First. Not to mention edging on a Lightwarden when I got there.”

“Oh,” G’raha murmured, seeing the way Etien clutched her handkerchief, the way her tail flicked on the seat, next to her leg.

“I can’t imagine how you managed to do that,” she said, quiet suddenly. “How you never—” her jaw clenched, then relaxed, “—never asked any questions. No, that makes sense now.”

He reached out, and she let him lay his hand on hers.

But she ignored it, and kept talking. “Mine has never been to question, unfortunately. Which you know, having heard the tales of me. You’ve always known me, always been one step ahead of me even as you threw yourself to the foreign country of the past. Knew everything about me before I got to discover it about myself. So you didn’t need to ask anything. Not even if I was willing to help you.” She looked up at him, blinking placidly. It was eerie, how she was usually so animated—had always been—but now she was quiet, movements and voice understated as she explicated. “It’s disappointing. That and painful, that your respect for me would go deeper than the average Eorzean’s, because you knew the whole story root to leaf, and yet you couldn’t help acting just like them. Making me your first and last idea to solve any problem, because I would never fail, not when it all hung in the balance. I had to transcend this body—its pain, its hunger, its exhaustion—because Hydaelyn entrusted me with this curse of a blessing.”

G’raha’s ears had long past gone flat, now utterly downturned. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to give me the ages of nineteen to twenty-five back.” She sighed. “That’s cruel, I apologize. Do the books—not Edmont’s, he was busy telling everyone of the Etien he knew and was living with—do they tell of my grief? That I had finally grasped freedom from my life in the Shroud, to be beholden to the needs of the city-states and the agenda of the Scions? That when I was coming into my own as a woman and a weapon, I was accused of crimes far beyond my most sinister thoughts? That I was shuffled from ushering in fragile peace to being the wedge of war for liberation so quickly I— no, they wouldn’t, would they? They tell of my actions, not my feelings.” She laughed. “Or there would be tomes solely dedicated to me and Aymeric.”

G’raha resolved to show her such tomes—they did exist—another time. But for now, she seemed to be running out of steam.

“I wish you’d asked, G’raha. Asked me what being me was like, when we gathered Aethersand. Asked me if I would join you on the First. I would have told you anything you wanted to know. I would have said yes. Instead, you commanded me because you’d made a giant of a terrified girl who hadn’t been living for herself for six years.”

“And I can only offer my deepest apologies,” he responded, trying to abandon the tone he’d always struck as the Exarch. He realized now that he would never fully divorce himself from that position, to her mind. The damage had been done, the bridge burned. They could only step across the charred remains together.

Etien sighed, closing her eyes, then gave him a smile as she opened them. “I can’t say ‘it’s all right,’ but I accept your apology. Someone needed to do the things I had to do, and I choose not to fault you for ensuring I did them.”

“You… choose not to?”

“If I resented everyone who had ever put pressure on me to be The Warrior of Light and not a living, feeling being, I would be holding a grudge against at least half of Eorzea.”

“Fair enough,” he mumbled, ears drooping again.

“Now, I digressed very far afield from my point. I asked you that not to question your belief in me or the stories you heard. The heart of it is that I’d like to have a family, and frankly, every chance I didn’t take before now was risking never being able to. Whether that was because I died or was rendered incapable of having children. Unfit to parent, I mean, above all.”

“Right.”

“So, do you think you and the others can make like the residents of the First and be Warriors of Light for a while, until I can come back? I’m not turning my back on Eorzea. I’m just doing what I haven’t in six years—living my life.”

“I can tell the Scions. You’re in a delicate state and can’t leave Ishgard.”

“Do you think they’ll deduce your meaning?”

“What kind of delicate state could someone like you be in, other than that?”

Etien laughed. “A fair point. Come, I can walk you out.”

_

The flood of letters from everyone came soon after that.

Tataru’s, full of the well wishes Etien had known were coming (had really hoped for, and kept returning to, between all the other letters that had much more flustered tones).

Alphinaud’s and Alisaie’s, jammed into one envelope, where Alphinaud started fretting from afar and Alisaie demanded to be an aunt.

Urianger’s, packed to the gills with advice—as Etien had expected—though a good amount of it was much more useful than anticipated. Y’shtola’s, Thancred’s, F’lhaminn’s, Mother Miounne’s, for the gods’ sake, all were just as she’d thought they would be, though there was one surprise, delivered by falcon, apparently.

“Congratulations and wishes of continued good health to mother, father, and baby (babies?). Hopefully the parcel of clothing arrives equally safely to this letter. We did not want to burden the falcon unnecessarily with both deliveries at once.  We hope to hear from you soon! With love from Doma, Rin and Hien.”

Etien smiled wide as she read that one. Though as she folded it back up, she was startled by a shout in the streets, a darkening of the sky, and the low thud and rumble of a landing dragon.

She glanced out the window just in time to see a red eye peering in.

Etien stepped outside, eager to greet her Dravanian visitor.

“Vidofnir!”

“Ah, my friend, how long it hath been since I have gotten to speak with thee. A Scion did come unto me bearing news of thy return, and thy subsequent confinement to the city?”

She nodded. “For my health, and the health of my children,” she gestured vaguely toward her abdomen, “I have to stay close to home. The Forelands might be a bit too risky for me, even.”

“A shame. I would have liked to celebrate with thee, had the chance arisen.”

Etien smiled, tilting her head back to meet Vidofnir’s eyes. “And we will! After the kits are born. Then, we can celebrate twice as many occasions.”

“Ah. ‘Tis good to see thee in such high spirits about the matter. I feared the worst when I received word.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

“I know not what succor I can offer thee in these times, but know that if thou hast need of me, thy call is all I require.”

Etien bowed without thinking. “I will certainly keep you in my mind and heart.”

“Then I wish thee well until we meet again, Warrior of Warriors.”

She waved as Vidofnir took to the skies again, the dragon miraculously lifting off the stones even with so little room between one building and another to flap.

And then she returned inside, neither dressed for the cold wind blowing down the street, nor prepared in any other way to remain outdoors.

It had been a long few days. She was going to nap, and get back to the letters later. If, Fury willing, Aymeric would help her sort through them and formulate appropriate responses, that was.

And while she had the time, early though it may have been, she wanted to think of names.