#so I’m veering to genetics

[smol-stardust]

is there a specific career you’re planning on pursuing?

It’s kinda always teetered between something medicine or law related as they’re my two main fields of interest, though I’ve always favoured the idea of med school more than anything.

As of right now I’m going for a genetics major for undergrad, and I’m also taking some sociology/criminology courses, and we’re just gonna vibe until we have to make a decision and not worry about the specifics until I either go take the MCAT or do something else with my life haha. (It really depends on bad my calculus finals go next month too T0T)

To answer your question, imma put it this way. I had specifics figured out until uni hit me with the reality beam and now I’ll take it as it comes and just vibe with what feels right

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Three hours ago Damian went MIA.

He was supposed to be on patrol but three hours twenty-six minutes and forty-five seconds ago he veered off route and hasn't answered any texts, calls, or alerts since. Luckily he hadn’t turned off his tracker so they could see he was on the seventh floor of a children’s hospital in the upper west-side.

Tim would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. Damian had been disappearing more and more often lately, but this was the first time he disappeared on patrol. Behind him Bruce was losing his mind, muttering to himself nonsense Tim didn’t bother trying to understand.

He was at the Batcomputer, hacking into the hospitals seventh floor emission room cameras and flicking through them to try and find Damian. Dick was at his left, scanning the footage for any clue of their brother’s whereabouts. Jason had his feet kicked up on his right, pretending like he didn’t care, but he was watching just as intently.

Case was trying to get Bruce to sit down and actually breath, Steph was still on patrol and Duke was dead to the world. He was pretty sure Alfred knew where Damian was going and probably had a good clue as to where he was now, but if he wasn’t saying anything Tim knew better than to ask.

Finally, they got something. Well, a bit more than something. Ok, a lot more. It was a double room, with a standard bed in front of the door and a crib across up against the wall. To the left of the standard bed were two nightstands. The first one had a light show projector shaped like a UFO, a phone charger, laptop, several fidget toys and a kalimba. The second was empty and the crib had a collapsed gate inside it. Next to the bed was a couch with a few bags sitting next to it.

In the standard bed was Damian, drawing in a sketchbook he knew wasn’t his just from the stickers on the cover. But next to him, cuddled up to him, was a girl. She was African with gold eyes and curly baby blue hair in a bob. The ends of her curls faded into multiple colors, giving the impression of a rainbow and blue sky. She was wearing a hospital gown, and Damian was wearing….a shirt that said ‘cotton candy club’ in pastel blue purple and pink with cartoon cotton candy???

The computer told him her name was Lydia Lippet, who’s family, friends and nurses nicknamed ‘Fireworks’. She was sixteen and suffered from the genetic disorder AIP–Acute Intermittent Porphyria.

He, Dick and Jason stared for a second. “Uh, B? Cass? We found him, but—Well, your not going to believe this.” “O. M. G! A girlfriend! He has a girlfriend! Oh how could we ignore the signs!?” Dick cheered as Bruce and Cass rushed to the batcomputer. They all watched as the girl-Lydia-snuggled closer to Damian, who smiled and pulled her closer by the arm around her waist.

Bruce watched silently, almost gaping. Cass just smiled. Jason took a picture then started texting so fast Tim worried he’d break his fingers. “Tim, rewind the footage and find out when Damian entered.” Bruce said, sounding confused and a little worried. Tim rewinded until he found the moment Damian, as Robin, entered through the large window.

They watched as he stared at Lydia for a minute, his eyes wide and trailing all over her. Now the crib was next to the bed and the gate was open, and the area between the beds had a blanket and all sorts of baby stuff laid out and the couch was under the window. The baby gave a little gurgle and he jumped like he didn’t know it was there. Lydia sat up and looked towards him. “Damian.” She sounded breathless, a little rough with a thick Gotham accent. “Lydia.” He sounded almost heartbroken, rushing to her side.

“What—Is this why you haven’t been answering your phone? Have you been here for two weeks? What happened?” Lydia laughed sadly. She scooted over and patted the bed, making Damian paused. He looked to the door and the nurses window then back at her. “Can I change before we speak? I don’t—“ he stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m not going to leave you.” Dick ruined the moment when he ‘aww’ed. Jason told him to shut up.

Lydia nodded and motioned to a possum-shaped plush backpack on the table across from the cradle. “I ‘ave some shirts and pants in Moonstone. The bathrooms that door.” Damian grabbed the shirt they’d seen him wearing and a pair of pink pajama pants. He was in and out in less than five minutes, which was a new record. Getting out of costume took time.

Lydia giggled softly. “Ya’ look great.” Damian huffed. “I could say the same about you.” She giggled again and hugged him as soon as he got in the bed. He stiffened for a second before relaxing and practically melting into the hug. Damian sighed and whispered, “I missed you.” Lydia hugged him tighter. “Missed you more.” They pulled back and stared at each other—

And Lydia burst into tears.

Unfortunately a nurse walked in right as she threw herself onto him and cried. The nurse stood dumbfounded as she watched Damian Wayne shush and comfort Lydia. He noticed the nurse and leaned forward. “Please leave. And don’t let the press know. For her,” he motioned to Lydia then behind him, “and the infant’s sake.”

The nurse nodded and quickly left, and Tim pulled up another camera. Thankfully the nurse kept to herself and even put a ‘do not disturb’ sign outside of the room and closed the blinds on the door and nurses window. He kept that camera up just in case but focused back on Damian and Lydia.

She was talking as she cried. “I-hic-I wanted to call ya’—“ she choked on her tears and Damian pulled her to his chest. “You don’t need to explain,نجم شمال, just let it out.” She shook her head. “I—Jazz—“ She bit her lip and looked at the cradle. The baby, Jazz, gave a tiny coo and Damian seemed to understand.

“Ok, breath for me, in and out slowly. Just like that.” In five minutes she was calm again, cradled against Damian’s chest as he ran his hand through her hair, lightly pulling a strand on his finger than letting it bounce back. Lydia had her eyes closed, a content expression on her face. “Thank you.” She whispered, opening her eyes and gazing up at him.

“Of course.” He whispered back, continuing to play with her hair. Dick was silently screaming, jumping up and down. Bruce had sat down and was watching intently. Cass was jumping with Dick. Tim was trying to piece together how long this has been going on. Damian started disappearing about two and a half years ago, so they’d definitely had time to get to know one another.

“Five years ago,” Lydia started, “I was diagnosed with AIP—Acute Intermittent Porphyria.” She pressed a button on the side of the bed that made the back end start to raise. “It’s a rare genetic disorder that has a lotta stupid triggers,” she continued, “like infections, hormones, and sunlight. Well, those are my triggers.”

“AIP sucks cause’ it’s not only rare, but symptoms and triggers are so different b’tween every person. Don’help that a lot of them are asymptomatic. It took like, a whole year in this hospital to get diagnosed.” She chuckled sadly and leaned against the bed when it was raised all the way up.

“What are your symptoms?” Damian asked softly. She huffed and put her ear to his chest. “It starts with a lot of vomiting. Like, not like there’s a lot of vomit, more like I vomit everything. Food, applesauce, pills, even water comes up in less than five minutes. Sometimes thirty seconds.”

Even water? That wasn’t good, and he could tell Damian was thinking the same thing from the way his eyes narrowed. “Then the pain starts. Abdominal pain so bad that it hurts ta’ breath. Talkin’ becomes unbearable, much less moving. And—moving.” Lydia stopped and sniffled, raising her hand. Or, trying to. A little below her neck her hand stopped and began shaking, like it was stuck in place.

He was confused for a second, but then he took in the way her hand was curled into a fist, how her fingers twitched but then returned to the same position, the tears filling her eyes. “You can’t move your hands.” Damian realized. He sounded horrified. “And if talking hurts, then singing—your instruments—“ He looked around the room before looking back to her. “Your legs as well?”

Lydia nodded sadly, letting her hand drop. “My body can’t get the nutrients it needs, so it takes it from my muscles.” She tried to open her hand with her other, but that hand was stuck in a fist too. “My body is cannibalizing itself. We’re lucky we caught it early this time. The last time it started attacking my bones.”

“You can’t sing.” Damian said again. “You can’t dance, play your instruments, draw. You’ve lost your music.” Lydia nodded again, biting her bottom lip. She took a shaky breath before continuing. “Another thing that happens is that—well, all this starts ‘cause m’body doesn't have an enzyme that it’s supposed to. And that causes it to produce another, really bad enzyme.”

“All this—we don’t really know why this is happening since it hasn’t happened with many other people with AIP, but—um.” She took another deep breath, looking Damian in the eye. “My kidneys are shutting down.” At Damian’s expression she backtracked. “Well, they were, but now their not! But their in real bad shape and that ain’t even talkin’ about my liver or appendix which by the way? Did’ya know all this could cause my appendix to burst?”

She smiled weakly as Damian immediately began fussing over her. Asking if she was in pain right now, pressing different parts of her stomach and asking if it hurt, if she’d drank any water, if she could. It was honestly really cute. He and Jason shared grins as Dick and Cass began talking about stories they could tell her, how they could introduce themselves. Bruce sat silently, looking stunned but a little pleased.

“This attack isn’t as bad as last time,” She reassured him, “and it’s nowhere near as bad as the first.” There was a story there, a sad one from the way she said it but she didn’t continue and Damian didn’t push. Jazz began babbling loudly and crawling around the crib. Lydia smiled.

“That’s Jasmine, but I call her Jazz. Baby’s ain’t suppose’ to room with anyone older than one but she needed to be emitted badly so they asked if she could stay with me. Obviously I said yes. Hiya lovebug!” Jazz squealed and sat up, clapping her hands. Damian watched as Lydia cooed and played peek-a-boo with her blanket, Jazz babbling like crazy.

“Uh oh,” Jason snorted, “I know that look.” He was right—they'd seen that face more than once. Usually before Damian brought home an animal he realistically shouldn’t have been able to find in New Jersey. Damian stood up and went around the room, putting on bright red shoes and a pastel rainbow puffer jacket and picked up the possum bag. “What’cha doing?” Lydia seemed amused. Probably because her fashion style looked a little ridiculous on Damian.

“Im going to your apartment and collecting things I know you'd like to have. And while you are not capable of using some of them such as your instruments and sketchbooks I’d enjoy practicing your art style and learning a new instrument. Jasmine would also enjoy some entertainment, no?”

Lydia stared for a few seconds before her eyes filled with tears. She used her shoulder to wipe her eyes and motioned Damian forward. When he was within reach she pulled him down by his shirt to hug him. She whispered something in his ear that made him smile and say something back before leaving through the window. Tim sped up the footage until Damian returned, which was an hour later. The bag didn’t look to be full, and thinking about it, how was he supposed to fit instruments and sketchbooks in a backpack that size? He gave the backpack to her, took off the shoes and jacket and got back into the bed, smiling as she gasped.

She reached in and pulled out the kalimba from before which was wider than the bag and a colorful hip-chain with six rainbow stars, each one with a clip on the bottom connected to a ribbon that seemed to be a backwards rainbow. The first three ribbons were wrapped around and holding small poké balls, while the other three were empty.

Lydia positioned her hands on the kalimba before playing. Even with her hands, which took her a minute to get into the right position, she played it beautifully. Damian listened to the upbeat song for a moment. “An Irish jig?” Lydia nodded. “The Butterfly by Tommy Potts.” Jazz squealed at the song, clapping her hands and crawling around her cradle.

Lydia smiled and continued playing, asking Jazz if she liked it when she was done. Jazz screamed and babbled happily, bouncing in place and waving and clapping her hands. Lydia looked in the bag again, this time pulling out a flute longer than the bag?? Tim looked between his siblings and father as they took in the footage.

Jason began laughing, probably at Bruce’s face. “The brats girlfriends a meta! An unknown meta in Gotham!” Bruce, who had unfortunately taken off his cowl while watching the footage, looked simultaneously devastated and confused. “She could be a magician!” Dick said, patting Bruce on the back. “Maybe it’s like Mary Poppins or Hermione Grangers never ending bag!”

Damian gave her a look, but Lydia said she needed to exercise her lungs. He huffed, but helped her raise her hands. The next song she played was very different from the one before, and Tim recognized it immediately. “That’s Isabella’s Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.” Dick and Jason nodded, Cass doing the same from her seat next to Bruce. Bruce looked a little confused before Cass signed to him ‘anime’.

Jazz made a ‘whoaaaaa’ sound and listened intently. Damian was listening as well, and as the first verse ended he began to sing.

‘Let me sing a lullaby

As you close your eyes

And as your drifting off to sleep

How I hope that the dreams that find you

Are bright’

Damians voice was surprisingly nice, slightly deep and his accent a bit more pronounced. He had an arm wrapped around Lydias waist and his eyes closed. He looked calm.

‘Love can we meet again soon in the bluest of skies?

Where a tomorrow waits for you and I

So hold me tight one more time, but don’t say goodbye

‘Cause I know that I’ll see you on the other side’

Lydia had her eyes closed too, swaying slightly to the tune. Jazz looked mesmerized.

‘I will think of our song when the nights are too long’

Damian opened his eyes and gazed at Lydia

‘I’ll dream of you for that’s where I belong

Love, can we meet again soon in the bluest of skies

Only, in my dreams, do we meet again’

Damian’s voice ended on the same tune as the flute, and when the note ended Lydia opened her eyes. They locked eyes and stayed that way until Jazz squealed. Damian blinked rapidly for a few seconds before blushing, Lydia laughing even though her face was turning red as well.

“You’ve gotten better.” She leaned into him as Damian huffed, looking away but pulling her even closer. Damian was going to retort but the door opened again and two people entered. One was a black women shorter than Damian with greying thick curly hair similar to Lydias pulled into a large bun, and the other was a tall heavyset white man with a receding hairline and grey beard. The computer told him they were Laura and Logan Lippet, Lydia’s parents.

They had styrofoam take out boxes and a drink carrier. They stopped when they saw Damian, but then continued on. “Hey Damian!” Mr.Lippet said, putting the boxes on the table. “Was wondering when you’d show up.” Mrs.Lippet and Lydia laughed as Damian smiled, accepting Mrs.Lippets hug. “When’d you get here? Or how’s a better word.” She laughed and handed a box to Lydia and sat a drink on the nightstand.

“Garlic pasta!” She cheered, kissing her moms cheek. “I just came back after, uh. I broke into your apartment again, but only to collect Lydias things.” Mr.Lippet threw his head back and laughed as Mrs.Lippet smiled and shook her head. “As to how, don’t worry about it.” The Lippets laughed again. “Did you see the brownies Liam made?” “Yes, he added pistachios this time.”

“They seem weirdly chill about a billionaires son breaking into their house and getting into their daughters hospital room.” Jason commented, Tim and the others agreeing. Lydias parents had expected Damian to not only show up, but eat their food when entering their house? Either Damian was closer to these people than they thought, or the Lippets were a little crazy. Judging from the records he was seeing, it looked like the latter.

“That’s weird,” Tim hummed, “there’s records of her meta gene, but for some reason we didn’t get an alert.” Usually every time a meta was documented in Gotham they would be sent an alert about it through a not-so-legal chain system Babs set up. But even though Lydias meta gene was reported when she was three, they’d never gotten an alert. Well, now that Tim was looking, they had. But it’d been deleted very recently.

Apparently her ability was ‘Art Manifestation’. Tim didn’t know what that meant, but he had a feeling they’d find out. He brought up the file next to the camera where the Lippets and Damian were talking and laughing. Damian was holding Lydias drink just out of reach, laughing as she tried to grab it with her teeth. “Use your hands,” he taunted her, “it’s physical therapy!” Her parents roared with laughter as Lydia began hitting him as best she could. She was laughing with them.

A little while later Jazz's parents came in with a nurse. They had the normal reaction to seeing Damian Wayne cuddling with Lydia. “Hey Joseph, hey Ariana!” Mr.Lippet called to the stunned couple, “This is Damian, Lydias boyfriend.” Damian greeted them as politely as he could with Lydia teaching him how to use the portable loom she’d apparently forgotten she had in the possum bag.

“Their dating!?” Dick gasped. “Isn’t that what you said?” “I was joking! Oh my god, Damian actually has a girlfriend!” Jason laughed again and Dick began panicking. “Oh we were supposed to spy on their first date! And mess with Damian about it, figure out her favorite things so we could tell Damian, oh my god we missed seeing them on Valentine’s Day!” Cass patted his back. ‘There will still be valentines days to see and things to bully Damian about. I do not think they’ve had sex yet.’

Bruce choked. “Cass!” She gave him a confused expression as Jason laughed harder. Dick continued to sulk. “I don’t wanna know about that stuff…..I hope he at least tells us about their first date.” “I’m more interested in how they met. Lydia seems pretty forward so far.” Jason snorted. “You think she asked him out?” Tim shrugged. “You think Damian would’ve?”

Apparently Jazz was getting moved to Boston Children’s Hospital for further treatment. Damian and the Lippets helped her parents pack up Jazz’s toys while Lydia tried to persuade them to let her help. “I can stand!” She whined. “But you can’t for a long time,” her dad responded, “and while your stretching has helped a lot we don’t want you over exerting yourself and getting hurt.”

“Has she been seen by physical therapy?” Damian asked. Her mom huffed. “She’s supposed to see them every day, but just like last time we’ve only seen them the first day. They come in, tell us she’ll be seen every day and then we never see them again!” Damian gave an unpleased ‘Tt’ as he folded Jazz’s blankets.

In a few minutes they were ready to leave and the Lippets cheerfully said their goodbyes, Damian doing so awkwardly. After they left Lydia reached over and opened her computer. “Now it’s horror movie time!” The Lippets laughed as Damian raised an eyebrow and sat next to her. “You couldn’t watch them before?”

“Not with Jazz in the room,” she muttered, switching between scrolling and typing. “Don’ wanna traumatize the baby. Y’all feeling like a thriller or gore?” Her dad looked over her shoulder from where he was standing. “Damian, you ever seen ‘Someone Marry Barry’?” Mrs.Lippet snorted as Lydia groaned.

“We are not watching a romcom.” “Why not?” Her dad whined. “Netflix just got like seven new more!” Damian smiled as Lydia argued with her dad. He seemed more relaxed with them than he did at the manor. Lydia and her dad got into a slap fight. It felt weird to watch normal people play fighting. Usually when they play fought it’d involve actual weapons and strategies to find the best place to tickle.

But Lydia and her dad were normal people. They slapped each other harmlessly, without worrying if they’d accidentally hurt them. Lydia shrieked with delight as her dad grabbed her and shook her around, chanting ‘Romcom, romcom, romcom!’ “Alright alright alright!” She giggled, “we’ll watch one horror one romcom, how’bout that?” Her dad agreed and pulled the table from across her bed to the foot of the bed. He then moved the crib to the position they’d first seen it in.

While Lydia found a movie Mr.Lippet moved the couch from under the window next to the bed. He and Mrs.Lippet settled on the couch, Mrs.Lippet with crochet and Mr.Lippet with his own computer. “We can watch the Evil Dead series! They just made a new movie!” Lydia said excitedly, showing Damian a movie screen that he’d seen trailers for. Damian tilted his head.

“How will we watch a series when we’re switching genres?” “We watch one, watch one of dad’s shitty romcoms, then the second movie, and so on!” Mr.Lippet snorted, “Just for that I’m going to make your Roblox avatar ugly.” They all laughed. “Hey! Don't do that! I can’t fight back, we’re watching movies!” Her dad playfully rolled his eyes and muttered “hang on,” and began typing very fast.

“Lydia, turn on the TV.” She did. They waited as he typed very fast for a few minutes before the hospital TV glitched, blacked out and then showed Lydias computer screen on Prime. They cheered. “What the fuck?” Jason said, “How the hell’d he do that?” Tim shrugged. “I’m not surprised,” Barbara’s voice came through over comms, “He’s the configuration manager for TSA, and before that he was IT, and before that he was CIA, and before that he was Navy Seal. He’s on the no fly list because he used to be a spy in the CIA.”

Oh. “And he lives in Gotham….why? Does he have any connection with any rogues?” “He was born in Michigan, Laura in Texas, and they married in Virginia and then moved around a lot because of the military. They were in Hawaii before they were deployed here at the harbor, Logan retired, and they had Lydia and her brother Liam. They’re Irish twins, she’s October 15th 2007 and he’s the 17th 2008. No connection to any rouges other than accidentally meeting Scarecrow in civies and telling him to go fuck himself for his bad parking.”

They all laughed as Lydia used the hospital remote to choose the first Evil Dead movie. Then she pulled out another computer and handed it to Damian, and pulled her computer off the table and into her lap. She typed a little, then gasped. “Hey! That’s not nice!” Damian laughed as her dad retorted, “Calling romcoms shitty isn’t nice! Enjoy your skeleton!” Damian snorted. An actual snort.

Was he dead? Hallucinating? Dreaming? Or did he actually hear Damian Wayne snort? “Well, I approve.” Jason laughed as Lydia and Damian began playing Roblox with her dad. “She’s making him laugh, he’s relaxed, he gets along well with her parents and her parents are apparently super cool with all his weirdness. I think we’re looking at the future Mrs. Wayne!” Honestly? He wouldn’t mind having another new and weird addition to this family.

[lakesbian]

funniest possible thing for scarf to say immediately before reading the arc where brian gets nerve-carpeted while under the false assumption that alec is going to die. btw here's their current theories on the entities & so on which i found enjoyable:

scion’s goofy ass is definitely patient zero that’s a given. I wonder if he created the endbringers. he was first found hovering above the ocean maybe he gave it life or smth. who knows what he was doing before he was found I doubt he just Showed Up he must’ve been doing something even if it was just hovering for eternity letting his power leak into the earth jack slash being the catalyst for the end of the world might have something to do with how he orchestrates the nine., he doesn’t want Noelle on the team he thinks she’s too big of a threat. I’m assuming if he gets is way that means she dies. I think that something really bad happens if she dies. connected to my other theory abt Noelle possibly having endbringer genetics if the endbringers Are the earth given life then killing her is killing the planet. maybe idk still no concrete answers on the entities sadly. parahuman = parasite still a clear connection tho given the whole virus thing & how drastically they r affecting more and more people with powers & trigger event proximities

their previous/initial theory was like. Shockingly close to the truth for a second but then they veered the fuck off. god i cannot wait to see how they feel about brian their boy brian whom they like and enjoy experiencing the horrors

[shipcestuous-two]

I’m an Anishinaabe person (First Nations in Ontario, Canada) who works with elders and language teachers. Naturally, this involves discussing our tribe’s history sometimes.

It’s veered toward the discussion of incest more than you’d think. Way back when, before the creation of Canada, my people usually lived in small communities of about 70 people or less. There was often polygamy because men would die in war and there were more women than men. My theory is this led to a lot of half-siblings with the same father, and clan identity is passed from father to child. Clan identity is very important and it made it easy to tell who someone is related to (except through the mother’s side).

Cousin marriage, as long as they were of different clans, was common. Marriages between the same clan were almost unheard of and treated with scorn. I was told of one instance of Deer clan members who were marrying into each other in one village, but the males were eventually slaughtered by members of the Marten clan, who then adopted the survivors into the Marten clan. I have no date or place on when that happened. It’s pretty much a legend now that I’ve been told from two sources. I still find it very sad, and hypocritical.

The first person who told me about that is a language teacher, and he went on about it was due to the genetic risks children of related parents face. I asked him if it’s fair for people with genetic disorders to be prevented from having children. He didn’t have an answer. He didn’t even think about that. He didn’t even think about how cousin marriage was already accepted, and cousins are related. I have no idea if these Deer clan people were marrying cousins or first/second-degree relatives. I have no idea if their male babies were also murdered, or adopted. It disturbs me to think about it.

I may send more anons about other historical stuff in my culture.

- One of your followers!

Thank you so much for sharing this with us. It's sad, but fascinating as well, and of course very relevant to the kinds of discussions we have here.

I don't know much about this, but it's very interesting how cousins on the paternal vs. maternal side (or by clan, however it is reckoned) can be a favorable marriage vs. a forbidden one in some cultures or histories.

And also the various methods by which villages or other isolated groups of people prevent inbreeding.

Again, thanks for sharing!

[littledreamling]

Ten Books To Know Me

Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.

I’m considering myself tagged by @that-banhus and @fancy-rock-dove!! I sadly suffer from Gifted Kid Burnout Syndrome currently engaged in a very time-consuming course of study which means I haven’t read a single book from cover to cover in about two years (and I stayed in the YA genre for far too long because it’s easy brain candy) so I’m sorry to say that none of mine will be fancy or sophisticated or longer than about 300 pages. Nonetheless, I enjoyed reminiscing back on some of my childhood favorites that shaped me and some of the series that sustained me throughout my life since!

The DragonKeeper Chronicles Series by Donita K. Paul - I wasn’t raised religiously but I devoured these books like there was no tomorrow. I adored Kale and Bardon and Dar and their whole host of dragon friends (Wizard Fenworth my beloved). If you can stomach or ignore the fairly obvious Christian themes, I highly recommend them for a bit of brain candy.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley - this was the first classic book I ever read and it captivated me endlessly. It was the only school book I actually finished and enjoyed. Stories within stories, creator vs creation, voyages that you undertake knowing that you can never go home, this book has it all.

The All For The Game Series by Nora Sakavic - this series comes with a pretty heavy trigger warning for anyone interested in reading it. Centered around a made up sport and a kid on the run from the mafia, it’s dark and intense and drew me in like no other series ever has. Fans of the series will often proudly proclaim that the books make no sense, that the made up sport is confusing at best (absolutely incomprehensible at worst), and that not enough trigger warnings in the world will prepare you for what you’re about to dive into and I fully endorse all three statements. I also fully believe that these books helped me revolutionize how I view relationships between traumatized people (relationships that may not seem healthy to those not involved but are built on a strong foundation of trust and consent), how a good story should end, and showed how healing looks different for everyone. It’s not a book series I recommend lightly but I wholeheartedly recommend it. Proceed with caution.

Six of Crows Duology by Leigh Bardugo - I couldn’t ever get invested in the Shadow and Bone series, but I couldn’t put SoC down. Even now, I can’t explain why it enthralled me so much except to say… morally grey characters are hot, no matter what gender they are 👀

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater - rounding out the trio of book series that are often mentioned in the same breath (AFTG, SoC, and TRC), The Raven Cycle is a fabulous series centering around four rich boys and the girl who had always been taught to hate them. There’s magic and prophecies and car racing and an enchanted forest and ghosts. It’s a very rich story so every read-through gives up more secrets than the last time you flipped through it.

The Genome Odyssey by Euan Angus Ashley - A sharp veering turn from the previous books, this book helped to shape my passion in my (hopefully) future career. It tells the story of the genome, from its discovery to present day, and how it’s been used to diagnose previously unheard of and incurable genetic diseases, saving countless lives in the process. The author personally worked on every project detailed in the book and every chapter packed such an emotional punch that I had to put it down several times. A must-read if you need to be reminded just how good humanity can be.

The Martian by Andy Weir - This is a relatively recent addition to my ‘favorite books’ shelf but I read this like my life depended on it. I laughed, I cried, and my faith in humanity was restored. I was raised with the same style of dry wit and dark humor that the main character uses to keep his hopes and spirits up while trapped on Mars so reading his inner thoughts often felt like I was catching a glimpse into my own head. I know I’m late to the bandwagon but better late than never. A fantastic book that deserves a reread in the near future (as soon as I have time 😅)

Razorblade Tears by S. A. Cosby - When a queer couple is killed, their homophobic ex-con fathers meet at the funeral and vow to find who killed their sons. Over the course of their journey for revenge, they start to better understand their sons, each other, and themselves. A book about healing overcoming repression and toxic masculinity.

Redwall by Brian Jacques - an oldie but a goodie. Oh to be a small mouse eating fresh-caught fish and defending your abbey against rats. Every single detail of this story was so masterfully laid-out and described. Reading the first scene never fails to make me hungry and the entire book sweeps you away from beginning to end.

Where Hope Comes From by Nikita Gill - I had to sprinkle in some poetry to the list. This is an anthology of poems written during the Covid lockdown detailing the author’s struggle with despair and eventually finding hope again, even in the most mundane of scenarios. It carries a strong message of positivity while stressing the importance of allowing yourself to feel “negative” emotions too. An excellent read for any poetry fans open to free verse or anyone struggling with their own despair.

As always, I’m not sure who to tag so I’m throwing it open to @aquilathefighter, @virgo-dream, @mathomhouse-e, @ladymegana, and the rest of the Dreamling Nation server! Please tag me, I need book recs!

[kimonotsuki]

Review - The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House (Maiko-san Chi no Makanai-san)

I have already made a post about Maiko-san chi no Makanai-san, back when it was released as an anime. I loved the manga and I loved the anime, so I had very high hopes for this live-action adaptation. I am glad to say I was not disappointed. I binged through this show in two days and I'm already debating watching it again. There's something so incredibly wholesome and comforting about it; the food, the love and support the characters share, and the quiet and understated tone of the whole thing. There is so much tension in the world right now; we need more cozy shows like this!

This is ostensibly a story of two girls, Kiyo and Sumire, who move from Aomori to Kyoto to become maiko. Sumire blossoms during training but Kiyo stumbles out of training and into the job of makanai, who is essentially the cook for the house where they live, along with their adoptive geiko mothers and maiko sisters. This is where it's Kiyo's turn to shine, as she pours all her enthusiasm and support of Sumire and her sisters into her food. The manga and anime pretty much stopped there, presented in short vignettes followed by recipes or food trivia. Where this show differs is that there's less focus on the food and more focus on the interpersonal relationships and development of all the background characters, something we hadn't seen until now. It never veers into the mawkish or melodramatic tone you might expect of a house full of girls competing in an incredibly tough field. Instead the girls encourage and support each other, and what little tension there is eventually becomes a great source of charming comedy or personal introspection. (Yoshino, I am looking at you)

Another lovely thing about this show is how accurate it is. It was filmed partially on-location in the geisha districts of Kyoto, and you can tell they worked very hard to keep things close to the tradition-focused and rarified air that the whole city exudes. There are cameos from real working geiko, there are many mentions of the traditional seasonality of geisha life, the kimono are stunning, and while there will invariably be the occasional slip-up when it comes to minute details or accessories, it's very clear that all of the traditional elements of the show were done with a huge amount of respect and research, and love.

At its core, this is a show about the many forms of love. The passion an artist has for their craft, the connection of family (both genetic and found), and the unbreakable bond between two best friends. Whether you're a fan of food, geisha, or just want something incredibly warm and soothing to watch, I can't recommend this show enough. You can catch it on Netflix in the original Japanese with subtitles as well as dubbed into a multitude of languages. If you have Netflix and have any interest in geisha, food, Japanese culture, or just love warm uplifting television, I urge you to check it out! Read the full article

[whcwashe]

Okay, here’s where I admit that I’m a fucking weirdo, who’s extracted most of my canon for liv from the first/second draft of the pilot script that I found, and from studying screenshots far too hard, for far too long. So here are a few of the things I’ve extrapolated -

A. Liv is ..... not poor. She didn’t grow up poor, anyway, because look at her mother’s house. That’s family money, and it’s probably a lot. And that’s probably a large part of the reason that Liv was lied to about her father her entire life. Her grandparents would absolutely not have approved of Jasper, or of the fact that her mother was a young and unmarried mother. The community probably wouldn’t have approved either, so -- The story about Jasper being dead was probably concocted in order to save face with the overall community, and to keep Liv from asking questions. Lets face it, it was probably always more about reputation than it ever was about Liv’s feelings. 

It’s also evident from the fact that Liv drives a new, hybrid vehicle, and lives in a VERY LARGE loft by herself, that she’s definitely benefiting from family money. She’s working at a car rental place in the south -- she doesn’t make enough to afford rent and that kind of vehicle + a brand new iPhone that she doesn’t even bother to put a case on. Let’s be honest -- she was raised with Money. 

B. I base a lot of my assumptions about Liv’s abilities off of what little is said about Jasper. In the pilot, John mentions to Liv that Jasper had been teaching himself cartography, and was mapping out what he saw in Atlanta. Now, looking at the map of the city, he’s got Illusion Falls, Seven Devils, Pandemonium, Damnation Bay, and Phantom Hill labeled. As far as I can tell, these aren’t references to anything in particular -- but it does indicate to me that Jasper can see the version of reality that lays underneath what everyone else sees. The kind of things that are hidden just under the surface via magic, or sit in another branch of reality. And since these abilities are genetic, it’s likely Liv probably sees that as well. Which means that, at any given moment, it’s not guaranteed that what Liv is seeing, and what anyone else is looking at are the same. And that’s not accounting for the ghosts wandering around. It’s part of why I assume Liv probably veers towards staying inside -- anything Jasper decided to call Damnation Bay probably isn’t fun to look at. 

[livvyofthelake]

anyway to conclude all the talk on shadowhunters and birth control and stds etc. which i have spent my entire day thinking about and researching btw. i was going to bring up the concept of shadowhunters not being allowed to use mundane medicine, which for some reason is not talked about in the codex at all OR any of the wiki pages. but i KNOW it’s not allowed because diana couldn’t be the head of the los angeles institute BECAUSE she had to hide her history with mundane medicine. i’m not sure if it’s actually illegal or just super frowned upon, i think the answer to that would be in lord of shadows when diana is explain her whole deal, but i’m back at school now and i don’t have that book with me so i don’t know. either way it’s not allowed, hence why they can’t take antibiotics, hence why i’m confused on how they would treat stds if they got one. maybe they have potions or something for this kind of thing? unclear. the other thing i’m thinking about is the faerie immunity thing. now technically i made that up, but i made it up based on facts and canonical information it’s incredibly plausible so we can just believe that faeries have magical immunity to human disease, and i would assume that someone who is half faerie would carry some or all of that immunity. like how allergies are genetic. so i would gather that anyone who is part faerie probably has some level of immunity to things like the common cold, any std, probably covid but again we don’t have to go there. unless it’s someone so distantly descended from fae they don’t even know about it. like kit. however kit is the first heir so maybe we shouldn’t bring him up here because i’d assume he’s got pretty potent faerie blood despite it being super diluted just because of this. the kid can do magic is it really so unbelievable that he might also have an ironclad immune system? i digress. anyway so that’s faeries, who are magical, but it would seem shadowhunters, not magical, don’t have that extra immunity. or maybe they have enough immunity from mundane diseases that they won’t catch the common cold, but they could in theory get the clap. so they probably DO have some potion or what have you to treat these things if they do arise, which i assume is rare given that the shadowhunter dating pool is SLIM and they all know each other.

anyway it should also be noted that i only started thinking about any of this because i WAS in fact thinking about how two characters would have sex and i had to stop and think. would they have to use a condom? the answer i’ve decided in that specific ass situation is “maybe” veering on “no it’s not necessary”. however, in most cases of shadowhunters having sex i would say the answer to the question “would they need to use a condom?” is ALSO “maybe” veering on “no it’s not necessary”. so. ultimately we ended with a maybe. which is disappointing but true to life. i should add a disclaimer that for real human life the answer to “should you use a condom” in sex not with a committed partner is definitely “yes” but it’s on you to decide whether to listen to that i guess.

[jensjumbledmess]

My review/thoughts on The Last Wish by Andrezj Sapkowski! (I bought this book in October 2019 from a used book store for $5; little did I know it would drastically change my opinion on books/reading forever.)

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5 Stars!

Is there spice? A tiny bit, it's just fade to black. Don't go into this series expecting really romantic sex scenes, monogamy, or anything like that. 90% of the Witcher sex scenes feel like “old school” fantasy. Think Conan the Barbarian. Geralt takes many lovers throughout these books.

TWs: (See each chapter below for individual trigger warnings.)

Judging a Book By It’s Cover: I feel like the books with their red spines and video game art covers have become pretty iconic. I’m a big fan of the game character design, so I really like them, but just be warned that the covers really don’t have anything to do with what happens in the book other than “oh look! There’s a Witcher doing Witcher activities!”

✨📖 Review 📖✨

Let me start off by saying: This is the book that started it all for me; the book that made me obsessed with reading. I could NOT stop thinking about this book when I would put it down, and it was the first thing on my mind when I woke up the next morning. I just had to know what Geralt was going to do next. He’s a badass, genetically modified man, made for killing monsters… and he talks to his horse. He says he doesn’t care, but spoiler, he actually does. My most unexpected, and first as an adult, book boyfriend.

The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski is a collection of short stories where the chapters fluctuate between present time to various past events/Witcher contracts that help depict what the life of a Witcher is like and also help introduce some of the characters that are a frequent part of Geralt’s life. (This book series is actually the foundation of what spawned both the video game series and the Netflix show; they’re not an expansion.)

If you’re interested in reading The Witcher, I would highly recommend starting with this one and then reading Sword of Destiny, though it’s not “required” to do so. It’s a great way to get used to the world, which is a dark, medieval fantasy setting that contains witches & wizards, elves, dwarves, monsters/ mythology and more. The short stories of The Last Wish & Sword of Destiny  focus more on monster slaying and breaking curses, while the novels veer more towards politics, war, and scheming. Both have heavy themes tied to morals/social justice and making choices. Geralt is a morally grey character with a dry sense of humor that tries to mind his own business, unless hired to do otherwise, but somehow always finds himself getting involved in things that Witchers aren’t supposed to care about. No matter what choice he makes, there’s always a consequence. 

Here’s a brief summary of each of the short stories you’ll find in this particular book:

The Voice of Reason: These are the “present day” chapters, set at a Temple of Melitele while Geralt is healing from an injury. You’ll find The Voice of Reason chapters in between every short story. There’s a lot of philosophizing and remembering to be had in these.  (TWs: One of these chapters features nudity and sex. Though the sex is short and not in great detail. There are some suggestive jokes, some misogyny, some fighting/blood, and one of the priestesses has a seizure.)

The Witcher: The King of Temeria’s daughter was cursed at birth, causing her to be born as a creature known as a striga. The King is offering a reward for anyone who can lift the curse, killing her being the last resort. Geralt takes on the contract, locking himself in and spending the night in the old palace that the striga lives in. (TWs: Incest, dying during child birth, blood/gore.)

Grain of Truth: This story has bits of Beauty and the Beast in it. Geralt encounters two dead bodies while traveling, leading him to investigate the area and finding a manor nearby. While literally stopping to smell the roses, a large beast bursts from the manor in a (failed) attempt to scare Geralt away. The beast is now curious about Geralt; not immediately realizing he’s a Witcher, he invites him to dinner and discussion. (TWs: rape, blood, gore, nudity)

Lesser Evil: Geralt visits a mage known as Stregobor, who is being hunted by a woman named Renfri. Stregobor wants to enlist Geralt as his bodyguard to defend him from her. Geralt refuses, but eventually encounters Renfri and her gang in a tavern. When Geralt comes to realize that Renfri will stop at nothing to kill Stregobor, including killing innocent townspeople, Geralt is forced to pick a side. If you’ve heard the classic Witcher quote “Evil is evil,” this is where it comes from. (TWs: Sexual assault, blood/gore, autopsies. There is also a sex scene in this chapter, however it is “fade to black.”)

A Question of Price: The Queen of Cintra, Calanthe, is holding a banquet to give her daughter Pavetta away on her 15th birthday (as is custom.) Hoping to give her to Skellige to ensure their alliance and expecting a fight, Calanthe has hired Geralt as a bodyguard/mediator. Geralt engages in conversation with the Queen throughout the dinner & explains to her that that’s not what Witcher’s do, when suddenly a helmeted knight appears claiming that Pavetta was promised to him by Calanthe’s late husband 15 years prior, via the “law of surprise” (an ancient custom). A large fight breaks out which results in Geralt invoking his own “law of surprise.” (TWs: vomiting, drinking, violence, underage marriage/sex)

The Edge of the World: Dandelion is traveling with Geralt who is looking for work. All of the potential jobs are deadends, not “real” Witcher jobs, however on their way out of town, they encounter a man who claims a “devil” is causing trouble nearby; the man wants this “devil” to be dealt with, but doesn’t want the Witcher to kill it. Geralt agrees to investigate, leading to himself and Dandelion being attacked by the creature. During a second attempt to persuade the creature to leave, Geralt is knocked down (and out) by an unidentified rider. When he wakes, he finds himself bound and gagged. (TWs: Colonization, racism, violence)

The Last Wish: While fishing, Geralt and Dandelion have an encounter with a djinn that leaves Dandelion gravely injured. Geralt rushes Dandelion on horseback to the nearest city to find his only hope of saving his friend now lies with a mage who has recently taken up residency. This mage turns out to be the witch Yennefer of Vengerberg, who will save Dandelion, but at the cost of Geralt’s ego and at the chance of her capturing the djinn for her own gain. (TWs: magical coercion/manipulation, blood & gore, nudity, sex that isn’t described in great detail.)

Thank you for reading! If you liked my review/thoughts, consider following me on [GoodReads], [Bookstagram], or [Threads]! (I tend to post on GoodReads & Threads first!)

[ziracona]

Every time I read my own stuff and get David dialogue it’s so funny to me only one person ever went “Okay but David’s phonetic script isn’t actually an English accent. It’s clearly Scottish,’ which is absolutely true, and I truly don’t know if it’s funnier to me only one person ever called me out on that or asked why it was that way, or that it was Rowan the friend who is part Scottish that did.

[warning-fandom-obsessed]

Ricky and His Crutches

Context: I have mobility issues caused by a genetic disorder and I walk with an aid and I have feelings about Ricky not needing his crutches during rtc. I won’t be specifically going into his mutism going away too because I don’t think that’s really my place but it is definitely related. 

Also, I’m going to be talking about the bootleg version I’m pretty sure we’ve all seen at this point (I think it’s the off-broadway one but I'm probably wrong) unless stated otherwise.

One last thing before we start: I’m aware that it’s a part of establishing who Ocean is as a character (I do love her but I love Fanon ocean and end of the musical ocean only) but I need everyone else to acknowledge that (even ignoring her Social Darwinism song that veers dangerously close to advocating for Eugenics) her infantilisation of Ricky is fucking disgusting and dehumanising and I would have loved for her to have apologised for it even once. This is all to say that rtc is imperfect with its handling of Ricky’s disabilities in many ways.

Okay so, I don’t know what the details of Ricky’s condition is so I'm not sure if his needing an aid is due to a progressive nerve disorder resulting in partial paralysis or because (like me) he needs the aid because of chronic joint pain. I lean towards thinking the latter considering the way the others help to turn him around in the fall/uranium suit.

On one hand, I personally would rather not believe that my soul (because that’s essentially what they are since they’re their consciousnesses but not their bodies) needs a mobility aid because of what that implies. For me it would imply that even my soul has chronic pain and joint fatigue, but equally bleakly for Ricky it would mean that his soul also has a rare (presumably progressive) nerve disorder. And that is definitely not the case. 

Also, I should mention the implications of Space-Age Bachelor Man. Ricky’s longtime internal fantasy involves his body being just a trick in order to blend in on earth while he’s here, i.e. he will leave his body behind when he becomes his truest self, so I have to assume that he shares my way of thinking in this case.

On the other hand, I was disappointed (but not surprised) to not see a disabled person with a mobility aid (specifically one like crutches) all throughout the musical. Mobility aids are not a hinderance, quite the opposite, they are a huge help for the people that need them and for them to consistently be treated like a hinderance or something that gets in the way in media is deeply harmful. Other productions of the show have had disabled actors with mobility aids play Ricky and they have (obviously) kept their aids with them throughout meaning that it is possible to do the show like that, so it is a deliberate choice not to have him keep his crutches. 

Also, Ricky is very fond of his crutches – Lady Marzipan and Dame Judi Dench are great names – and I do feel that even if he doesn’t keep them in a production, the moment he gives them up is to me (and has the potential to be textually) very bittersweet.

This is all getting very long but basically: I can take productions that go either way with Ricky keeping his crutches or not keeping them, I think there’s a valid  argument to be made on either occasions. However, if he doesn’t keep them, there are things that can be done (e.g. him at first being more obvious in his excitement/being unused to having full mobility and having him have a moment with his crutches when giving them up and possibly saying something to ocean or even just glaring at her when she says something shitty) that would make it much clearer what goes on in his head when he realises he can walk (and talk) without an aid.

TLDR; Ricky not keeping his crutches isn’t inherently a bad thing but more just pretty complicated and could have been done better. 

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena’s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]

[spencer-reids-adventures]

it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing - chapter 1

Warnings: Depression, mention of self harm/suicidal ideation, disordered eating

Summary: Weeks go by and he feels himself deteriorate, feels the thread he’s hanging onto begin to split and fray, and he starts to wonder how this is going to end for him. At what point enough will be enough.

or,

The one where Spencer goes to the psych ward.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.2k

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 - The Enemy Within Chapter 2 - Errand of Mercy Chapter 3 - Dagger of the Mind Chapter 4 - Where No Man Has Gone Before Chapter 5 - The Galileo Seven Chapter 6 - This Side of Paradise Chapter 7 - The Man Trap Chapter 8 - And the Children Shall Lead Chapter 9 - Mirror, Mirror Chapter 10 - A Private Little War Chapter 11 - Wink of an Eye Chapter 12 - That Which Survives Chapter 13 - The Empath Chapter 14 - Let That Be Your Last Battlefield

Spencer doesn’t know how this happened. He doesn’t know how this happened. He’s positive there was a time in his life when he didn’t feel this way, but he can’t remember it, and the thought is terrifying. Spencer remembers everything. But he can’t remember this, can’t remember how it feels to be whole and safe and hopeful and competent and okay.

That doesn’t stop him saying he’s fine anytime anyone asks him.

They’re giving the profile at a precinct in rural California and when it’s Spencer’s turn, he gets caught on a tangent about genetically modified fruits and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until a voice calls out from one of the LEOs.

“What the fuck does this have to do with the guy we’re looking for?”

Spencer feels his cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, and before he can apologize and get back on track, Morgan takes over, and Spencer is sidelined for the rest of the discussion. He figures he deserves it, and he tries to talk himself down, remind himself that he’s really been working on this issue, and he can’t help it if he veers a little off course sometimes.

When they reconvene in the conference room, he sits cross-legged on the table and pulls out a tin of putty, which he begins to work with his hands, getting some of the tension out, rhythmically pulling and crushing it until he feels himself start to calm down. He doesn’t like to stim in public, but sometimes it can’t be helped.

“Hey,” Rossi says, coming up behind him. “I thought you were working on staying on track when we give the profile.”

“I am,” says Spencer, smashing the putty between his hands and staring straight ahead. “I’m trying.”

“Well, try harder next time, huh?” Rossi pats Spencer on the shoulder, causing him to flinch, and then walks away.

From Rossi’s casual demeanor, Spencer wants to infer that his comment was good-natured, that he didn’t mean it like a punch in the gut, which is how it felt, causing Spencer to wrap an arm around his own waist for protection. He wants to believe this, he needs to, but the dark, foggy part of his brain won’t let him. It forms a barrier, cutting him off from levity and positivity, and instead embossing his insecurities onto his heart.

He stands up quickly and heads to the door, throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder like a shield.

“Are you okay, Reid?” Morgan asks.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says, giving his best impression of a smile before heading out the door and locking himself in the bathroom.

He takes a few handfuls of toilet paper and wads them up in his hands, pressing them to his eyes so that his tears can’t even make it past his eyelashes, can’t streak his cheeks and make them blotchy and obvious. He doesn’t know how long he stands there trying to mitigate his breakdown without letting himself actually release any of the pent-up emotion, but when he’s sure the crying is over, he throws the toilet paper away and then jumps up and down, making fists with his hands and whispering passages from physics textbooks until he feels steady enough to go back to the conference room. He doesn’t even want to think about how long it’s been.

When he does go back, everything carries on as normal. Nobody makes any indication that they even noticed he was gone. He’s relieved and disappointed at the same time, and he hates himself for that. For being selfish. For believing his problems are noteworthy.

Weeks go by and he feels himself deteriorate, feels the thread he’s hanging onto begin to split and fray, and he starts to wonder how this is going to end for him. At what point enough will be enough.

Will he quit the BAU because he can’t focus?

Will he get fired for making a terrible mistake?

Will he lock himself in his apartment one day and just never come out again?

Will he give up and finally buy the Dilaudid he’s been craving?

Will that bring him back to life, the way he’d like to believe?

Or will it be the reason his landlord breaks down the door to his apartment one day to find him unresponsive on the floor?

Soon he stops caring even about that. Whatever happens will happen; what matters is figuring out what he has the energy for right now.

He can still handle hygiene. He can get dressed and go to work every day. He can come home at the end of the day, fall into bed, and do it all again the next day.

The things he doesn’t have energy for, though, are starting to concern him.

He can’t go to the grocery store, so he only eats when someone forces him to. He can’t focus at work, so he tries to fake it and do whatever he can not to hinder the investigation, since he’s not contributing. He can’t sleep through an entire night without nightmares, so he spends from about 1-4AM every morning watching crappy TV and punching his arms and legs out of frustration and understimulation.

On a Friday evening, everyone decides to go out to a bar to blow off steam. They invite Spencer, and he says no without even thinking about it. After a moment, he does start to think about it, though. About how a drink or three might make his brain shut up for five seconds. About how company might be better than sitting at home alone the way he does every night. He looks up to tell Emily that, actually, he would like to come along, only to realize that while he was stuck in his head, they’d all already left.

He goes home alone, finds a forgotten bottle of wine high on a shelf in the kitchen, and drinks the whole thing on an empty stomach.

He finally sleeps through the night.

He forces himself to the grocery store the next day for more wine. While he’s there, he picks up applesauce pouches and poptarts, which are the only things that look remotely appetizing, and that becomes his diet. He can tell he’s losing weight, but he doesn’t really care. The idea of disappearing is actually quite appealing to him. Less mass equals less of himself to hate, right?

He knows what he’s doing isn’t okay. None of it. But he can’t stop, he can’t fathom how he was able to function like an actual human adult before, because he’s consumed by now, and now is pain and exhaustion and fear and humiliation and disappointment. Now is empty of food, of emotion, of ambition, of hope.

The breaking point comes near midnight one night, when, after finishing his wine, Spencer’s shaky hands drop the bottle and it shatters on the kitchen floor. He’s holding a jagged piece of glass to his wrist before he even realizes what he’s doing, and when he does, he throws it across the apartment. Of course, there are a dozen more pieces right next to him, and he starts to panic.

He locks himself in his bedroom and grabs his cellphone, frantically scrolling through his contacts, trying to figure out who to call. Certain that if he doesn’t call someone, he is definitely going to kill himself, and he’s not 100% certain that’s what he wants, and if he’s not 100% certain, he definitely shouldn’t be doing it.

He zones out the way he did with the glass in his hand, and when he looks down at his phone, he sees that it’s out of his control now. It’s already ringing on the other end.

Calling…

HOTCH

[maxwell-grant]

Jumping off from my previous question/suggestion, might I please ask if there are any superheroes you think would make fine Pulp Villains and any Supervillains you think would make convincing Pulp Heroes?

I'm gonna go ahead and remark that I'd personally suggest to anyone who's trying to create pulp characters inspired by superheroes (which would be probably about 90% of you who may want to do that sort of thing) to flip the script around a little. As in, don't try to create pulp analogues to the Justice League/Avengers upfront, but play around with some of the lesser-known icons and filter those through your idea of what “pulp” means (which is gonna be quite different than my own or anyone else’s). 

I’m not gonna really mention characters I’ve already talked about before like Vandal Savage or Namor, instead I’ll pick new ones and see what can be highlighted about them.

Regarding “Superheroes who could make fine/convincing Pulp Villains”, even though he’s a character I've read basically nothing on, Martian Manhunter definitely leaped out to me as an obvious option. He’s a Sci-Fi Superman who takes the first half of the name to an extreme that borders on comical, except he’s not a square-jawed white man, he’s a 1.000 year old green alien from Mars with shapeshifting powers who can look as monstrous as the artist desires. He’s the product of an advanced civilization and genetic modification, and on top of the Flying Brick powerset and shapeshifting, he also has incredibly powerful and extensive telepathic abilities, he can become invisible, phaze through matter, use telekinesis and other weird abilities. A lot of pulp stories closer to sci-fi were based around the idea of taking one of these abilities and extrapolating horrific consequences for them, and J’onn has those by the dozens. He also has an extremely mundane weakness that would allow him to be beaten by Macready with a blowtorch if that’s where the story ended.

He was also a law enforcement officer from Mars who became a police detective and it’s even right there in his name, and again, I have never read anything he’s in (I should probably pick the Orlando mini), I know he’s for all intents and purposes a generally nice man who tends to job a lot in crossovers and cartoons, but the idea of taking all those great vast and horrifying alien powers, combining all of them into a single character who also happens to be the last survivor of a doomed planet (and one who actually lived through it’s collapse), and then making that character a former cop trying to resume his work on Earth? 

That is a Pulp Supervillain begging to happen, and a particularly horrifying one at that. And hey, speaking of The Thing-

Now, Plastic Man’s potential for horror has already been explored quite a bit in some of the darker DC continuities like Injustice and DCeased, and it’s quite funny seeing a lot of these turn Plastic Man into The Thing because there were quite a handful of Wold Newton pages that ran with the idea that Macready from the original story was Doc Savage, and that the secret chemicals that Eel O’Brian was hit by that gave him his powers were actually samples of The Thing contained in one of Savage’s labs. Regardless, the idea of a former street crook suddenly gaining bizarre shapeshifting abilities that allow him to reign terror on his gangster associates could make for a great premise as a pulp crime story that veers into horror as the gangsters gradually figure out what is Eel O’Brian’s deal, and then the story can take a more tragic turn.

The thing about Jack Cole’s Plastic Man that modern takes on the character neglect is that, while Plas was a lively roguish anti-hero (arguably the first of it’s kind in comics), he’s still for intents and purposes “the straight man” (HA, right, Plastic Man being “straight”). He’s the relatively sane hero who plays off Woozy’s wackier misadventures and the imaginative madness that Jack Cole paints his adventures with, and it makes for an interesting contrast considering Plastic Man is already a weird character, having to ramp up the strangeness of the world around him so that he still remains the sane man. There are ways to twist this into something quite horrifying, even tragic for Plastic Man as he either struggles to maintain coherency, or embraces the shifting chaos the world’s spiraling into for better or worse (and definitely for the worse towards those on the receiving end of his vengeance, or even his humor).

Now, onto the flipside, regarding Supervillains that could become Pulp Heroes -

Normally I’d not mention the Batman villains here, because I already have a lot to talk about in regards to them as is, they comprise some of my favorite comic characters, but I pretty much have to make an exception for Two-Face in this topic, as not only a pretty obvious option but one with even case studies to prove it, as not only do we have The Black Bat, a 1930s costumed pulp hero with an identical origin story and several other conceptual overlaps with Batman, as well as The Whisperer, a young hotshot police commissioner who dresses up as a disfigured vigilante to kill criminals without consequence (and who’s somehow less of a maniacal asshole in his secret identity than in his regular one), but it turns out that there actually was a 1910s pulp hero called The Two-Faced Man:

Crewe was created by “Varick Vanardy,” the pseudonym of Frederic van Rensselaer Dey (Nick Carter, Doctor Quartz), and appeared in three short stories and two novels and short story collections from 1914 to 1919, beginning with “That Man Crew” (The Cavalier, Jan. 24, 1914). 

Crewe is “The Two-Faced Man.” 

He is in his forties and has gray hair and a “sharply cut and handsome profile—until one caught a view of the other side of his face and saw the almost hideous blemish that nearly covered it, and which graduated in corrugated irregularity from a delicate pink to repulsive purple.” 

Crewe is two-faced in another way. Crewe is a saloon owner in below Washington Square. But he has another identity: Birge Moreau, portraitist and socialite hanger-on. Crewe uses both his identities to solve crimes as an amateur detective.

The only person to know about both of Crewe’s identities is a police inspector who is also Crewe’s friend and who Crewe helps in pressing cases - The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heores by Jess Nevins

And speaking of obvious picks for Supervillains turned Pulp Heroes,

Assuming I even need to make a case for Kraven the Hunter other than just presenting this cropped panel from Squirrel Girl and in particular the art painted on the Kra-Van, or even just telling you to read Squirrel Girl and it’s take on “The Unhuntable Sergei” (I had no idea most of the people saying “Kraven’s arc in Squirrel Girl is as good if not better than Kraven’s Last Hunt” weren’t actually joking in the slightest and I speak as someone who has Kraven among their absolute favorite Marvel characters, it had no right being that good), I’m going to quote the brilliant Rogue’s Review from The Mindless Ones that lays down in painstaking detail why Kraven could make a killer protagonist in that horrifically over-the-top pulp fashion

One thing that strikes me writing this, is how well Kraven could hold his own comic. There’s always room for a book spotlighting a ruthless, hardcore, gentleman bastard, and Kraven’s raison d’etre makes him supremely versatile, so well suited to any genre, any environment. It’s odd that more writers haven’t jumped on the fact that in a universe where off-world travel is possible – indeed, common – a hunter like Kraven would have a field day. 

I can just imagine the opening scene – herds of weird cthuloid bat creatures grazing in the gloomy green nitrogen fields, bathed in lethal, bone splintering fog, when, suddenly, LIGHT! from above and an unholy bellowing: “CTHGRGN fthgrgnARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGN!”

They look up in fear and then they start to run – ploughing into and over each other, tentacles flailing, as from the space-ship’s docking bay Kraven silently plummets, barely dressed for the cold, a glowing knife smothered in elder signs jammed between his teeth. 

You should have seen him one night previous, sipping alien tokay around the Captain’s table with the other guests, discussing the morning’s hunt; and the way he insulted the Skrull dignitary by forgetting himself and accidentally sporting his favourite piece of formal wear: his boiling unstable dinner-jacket of many colours, fashioned from the hide of one of the Ambassador’s super kinsmen.

Whoops!

Midway through Kraven explaining how the best way to irreparably damage a symbiote is to wait until its bonded with you and then seriously maim yourself, the Skrull decided it might be a good idea to simmer down, while his beautiful Inhuman lover hung on every word.

The deeper I get into this the more convinced I am that the MU’s hunter-killer extraordinaire wouldn’t limit himself to bloody planet Earth. And neither would he limit himself to this dimension, or universe or timeline. The guy’d be just as at home leaping, sword raised, onto the back of a T-Rex in the Savage Land, as he would be ploughing through werewolves in the graveyards of Arkham or tracking a howling Demon across Mephistopheles’ realm. 

He’d work perfectly in all these environments because he has a damn good reason to be casting a bloody swathe through them: wherever there’s big game, you’ll find Kraven.

The next choice I guess is an oddball, but not that much of an oddball if you know already what is my main frame of reference towards Marvel

I don’t think people appreciate enough that the main reason Shuma-Gorath has anything resembling a fanbase has nothing whatsoever to do with the comics he was in, but entirely because, when Capcom designers had a list of Marvel characters to pick from to work on Marvel Super Heroes, they took a look at the diet Cthulhu and went “gimme THAT one”, and then went all-in in giving the alien squid monster a funky personality along with a great stage and music and animations and all that great fighting game character stuff, and now he’s maybe the most popular Dr Strange villain along with Dormammu and Mordo, despite having ZERO film appearences or major showings in comic sagas.

Capcom's designers redefined Shuma-Gorath from a nebulous cosmic evil into a comically smug cartoon bastard who can rant about devouring all dimensions and souls horrifically while also cracking poses and zingers like “How do you expect to win a fight with only two arms?” and having dinners with Dhalsim or hosting Japanese game shows in his endings, and it kills me that none of this ever made it’s way into any depictions of the character outside of MvC. 

So that’s kinda what I’d go with. I’d take Capcom’s Shuma-Gorath, depower him a bit obviously from his canonical power, and run with the premise of his MvC3 ending where he decides that, well, if he's the unlikely savior of this pathetic planet and these wretched human dogs like him so much, and he’s clearly having a much better time here among them than he ever had drifting among the stars cealessly consuming life, then maybe he can take a break from all that eldritch business and keep up hosting the Super Monster Awesome Hour and maybe fight whatever PITIFUL villains think can take HIS planet. I mean, he’ll probably still end up destroying the planet by the end, but why not give this hero business a try?

Just until he gets his full powers back of course. 

I mean you can’t deny he DOES look pretty good in that bowtie, surely The Great Shuma-Gorath wouldn’t be so unmerciful as to deny these vile wastes of flesh something good to look at in their brief and miserable lives.

[palaceofpassion]

Neo’s Arc

There is a reason this is getting posted here!

Neo silently grumbled as she stared at the lump of bedding in front of her.  Her brow furrowed while the lump started to shuffle.  She would have let out a sigh if only she had a voice.  She grinned as a devious idea came to mind.  She moved slowly, not to alert the beast below, her hands gripped the edge of the blanket.  And with all the strength that her tiny arms could muster she pulled, with one fell swoop she pulled the massive beast down causing it to fall to the floor.

“Wha?!”  With a loud thump a mop of blond hair hit the carpeted ground below.  Dressed in a blue bunny onesie her dear only brother hit the ground, his head snapping up as his eyes darted around, panic obvious in his features.  When his vision fell on her he simply pouted, his eyes squinting as he did his best to give her the most intimidating glare that he could muster.  Which unfortunately for him wasn’t exactly much.  

Neo Politan Arc stared her brother right in the eye, unflinching even as his gaze wavered.  Finally after a few minutes he gave up, throwing his hands in the air she simply celebrated by smiling.  “I’m awake, I’m awake.”  He began to shuffle a little, scratching the back of his head as he stood up.  Good, he was finally going to stop being lazy, they had an entire day to themselves, and she would not let him entertain the idea of sleeping through it!  

Today was the only day since ever that she got to spend alone time with her favorite brother.  All of their sisters and parents were out, opting on going on a trip to Shion, her and Jaune had both opted to stay back and relax.  And… she was going to make sure that he finally realized her feelings for him.  If even Saphron had somehow figured out that she was pining for their dopey brother, then there had to have been something wrong with Jaune!  It took her literal years to realize that Terra had been into her, and Neo wasn’t about to let THAT happen, not when they could start their lovey dovey relationship early.  

As he began to stand, she watched in awe and adoration as he pulled his shirt up, scratching his abdominal muscles.  She nearly began to lick her lips at the sight of those finely sculpted muscles that SHE had helped create.  It wasn’t that hard to get a good eye full either, considering that she seriously only came up to said muscles… She was a short girl okay?!  Her sisters were somehow all taller than her, EVEN SAPH!  And Saphron was crazy short compared to the others.  Those Arc genetics, if only she had some of those… well she was planning to, just not in the normal way.  She let herself smile slyly at the thought of being filled with her brother’s precious semen.  

No, bad Neo!  Save those thoughts for later.   While she was apparently fighting with herself, Jaune had taken notice.  She missed the way he cocked his head, or the way his hand moved to cup her cheek.  She nearly jumped at the sudden warmth against her skin, but realizing it was him had decided against doing anything hasty.  She felt his hand guide her gaze upward, even as he stroked her gently she felt herself leaning into his touch, she really did love this giant goof.  “Hey everything okay?”  

She simply nodded her head, lacking any other way of communicating with him that would force his hold on her to stop.  She continued to nuzzle into his hand, even as he stood there, she knew it was odd but he never complained when she did it.  She couldn’t help but remember the first day she met her dopey literally big brother.  

Neo couldn’t even remember her family, she’d spent so many days on the street.  She could only do what she could to survive, and when that was everything she could, well she didn't have time to think about her family.  So when she had tried to steal from a goofy looking couple she’d learned that not everything is as it seems.  Apparently the couple had been ex-huntsmen, and unfortunately for her she was still a little girl.  

When they had caught her she obviously panicked, no one had managed to see through her little thefts.  But then they had surprised her, instead of taking her to the police they had taken one look at her.  And in what could have been described as the most confusing moment her entire life they had pulled her into a big hug.  She had broken down then and there, not really understanding WHAT had just happened, but the warmth of another human being had pulled at her heart.  

She had for the first time in ages felt at ease.  Thankfully that sense of ease had continued, they to her grand surprise had taken her home.  After getting her cleaned up they’d introduced her to the whopping 8 children they already had.  And then to continue the surprise, they had informed her that she would now be part of their family.  She hadn’t really realized HOW this had happened, she’d tried to steal from them for goodness sakes!  But here they were, adopting her, and to her surprise the children had taken quite the liking to her.  

No one was making fun of her odd hair colors or eyes, no one was trying to hurt her.  Instead they’d accepted her, and none more so than the tiny boy, who she had mistaken as a girl at first.  She had become instantly attached to Jaune, as he’d go out of his way to make sure she was happy and or comfortable.  She remembered the first night she’d spent in the house, fear of a new place, of the unknown, of being dumped again had filled her heart and she’d had the worst nightmares that she ever had.

But, apparently he’d noticed, that same night had been what solidified and started the feelings that would bloom into full on love in the future for her.  He’d pulled her into a tight hug and had fallen asleep with her in his arms.  He’d taken the time to hold her, to care for her, and that had just been the start.

When they had begun to teach her sign language, Jaune had joined in, having wanted to understand her as well.  From that day onwards the two of them had been inseparable.  Whenever they went out, they were often considered a pair.  And as they got older, Neo had noticed that her gangly brother had grown!  There had been a point in their lives when she had been taller than him, but that had only been when they were children.  Around his sixteenth birthday he had a huge growth spurt.

Where she stood at a tiny 4’3” he stood at a tall 6’1”.  It had taken him some time to get used to his new found height, but he did eventually.  Still… there was something about the height difference that lit a fire in her belly.  She hadn’t even realized she was sexually attracted to him till recently either.  One night she had walked into the shower without realizing that it had been occupied.  He hadn’t locked the door, like the doof he was.

And then she saw it, his body, soaked and dripping with water.  His normally messy hair was pressed and matted down with water, and oh wow the way he had glistened.  She had felt that fire in her belly churn and burn with the intensity of the sun.  Then she’d caught sight of IT, her eyes couldn’t help but look lower, it wasn’t her fault she was so tiny!  But there it was, not even at full mast, hanging from his front a massive rod veered downwards.  She had taken biology, and they had gone over sex-ed in school.  But seeing an actual penis for the first time had… well it had done things to her.

It didn’t help that it had been from her precious brother either.  She would NEVER forget the sight, having made sure to burn the very image into her brain for later use.  Still, she’d managed to slip away before he had taken notice, and it was from that day on that she had started to look at him differently.  She had already started helping him train, they would be off to Beacon soon after all.  But, well… that training got just a little harder, a little sweatier.  And their close contact had gotten just a bit… well there were times when she’d slide across him.  Gripping onto his biceps, his thighs, his chest, all while he was nice and sweaty.  She would shiver at the thought whenever it came up.  

“Neo?”  Her pink and brown eyes fluttered as she looked back into his sapphire blues.  “You uh, you alright there?”  

Once more she simply nodded, her memories having gotten the best of her.  She stepped away from his hand, though she still longed for his touch.  Quickly she began to motion, her fingers doing the talking for her when her own voice wouldn’t.  ‘What were you saying?’  

“Oh right, uhm what did you want to do today?”  He paused, looking at her with that stupid, goofy, lovely smile on his face.  “I know I promised we’d do something together, since we don’t really get the chance to anymore.”  Once more he scratched the back of his head, that cute little nervous tick of his.  

She quickly nodded her head, right right that.  What DID she want to have them do together?  There were so many things, so many things she COULD do.  But… but had she not tried yet?  What HADN’T she done to get his attention?  She just didn’t know, couldn’t comprehend what else she could do at this point.  She’d almost given up honestly, he was just so dense, he wouldn’t get the hints . The way that she would sway her hips when she knew he was looking, or the way that she would press her massive breasts together when she knew he was staring at them.

Oh right, there was that, apparently all her growth had gone into her damned boobs instead of her height.  Her watermelon sized breasts were nothing but cumbersome, though at least she HAD caught him looking from time to time.  That always did make her feel better.  Still, she needed to think of something, of anything that could get them together.  Then a thought hit her, there WAS something she could do, something she could try… It was tricky and well… he could hate her.  But she was getting desperate at this point, she’ wanted, no yearned for his touch!  And she was going to have it one way or another Brothers damn it!  

She turned back to him, her fingers quickly dashing around her hands as she asked him the simple question.  ‘Do you promise to do whatever I ask?’  He looked at her for a moment, though not out of suspicion but out of the correct answer.  Then he finally nodded.

“Yeah, I promise and an Arc…”

‘Never goes back on their word.’  She finished, a soft smile on her face as she fondly remembered the family motto.  Okay here it was, she was going to do it, taking a deep breath she began to move her fingers.  She didn’t even need to finish before his face was beat red.  

“Oh uhm!  Uh… are you uhm…”

‘You promised.’  She signed back to him, he had promised and she knew he would make sure that he stuck with it.

Jaune’s face felt like it was on fire, he hadn’t expected this… maybe he should have honestly.  When his sister asked, no demanded that they shower together.  He… he’d nearly frozen, thankfully he’d had enough of his wits about to ask her if she was sure.  And she was absolutely sure if her response of you promised was anything to go by.  He… he was afraid, not because of her no, but of himself!  He had… he had for the longest time fought hsi base urges.  If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that every last one of his sisters was a beauty.  From Saphron’s homely yet gorgeous looks to his other sisters super model esque appeal.  And Neo was no exception, but what made it worse was that at least with his blood related sisters it was taboo, he had the excuse that he couldn’t touch them because they were blood related.

But Neo?  No, she wasn’t related to him by blood, they weren’t related in a way that would be considered incestous.  But… but she was still his sister, and… and she was gorgeous.  She was what one would call a shortstack.  Massive breasts which went against her height, hips to die for, and an ass that you could bounce a quarter off of.  He wasn’t stupid either, he’d seen the way she looked at him, the way that she… that she looked as if she wanted to jump his bone.

He had… he had for the longest time not understood why, he had tried his best to pretend like he didn’t.  To not give into his own urges, because he KNEW she could do better.  He was just… he was just Jaune.  He didn’t DESERVE to have someone as amazing, or beautiful, or as loving as Neo fall for him.  She deserved better, a better man or woman, someone that wasn’t him.  But… even though he thought this, even though he kept on telling himself that he couldn’t that he shouldn’t.  He really wanted to, god she was just so unfairly gorgeous.  He knew that she’d caught him staring sometimes, that she’d seen the way he watched her breasts bounce, or the way he REALLY enjoyed their ‘wrestling’.  

But he had done it, had pretended not to feel anything but now?  Now that they would be naked together, covered in water, soaked to the bone?  He… “Okay…”  He felt like he was going to give in, and there was a part of him that wanted that, that wanted to ravage her.  He was SURE he wanted to, SURE that he wanted to take her before any other man could.  So, when he suddenly found himself in the bathroom, the shower already running as hot water slammed into him.  He could only think of clean thoughts, his eyes stuck on the tile of the shower, as he did his best to keep himself calm.  Even as the door opened, as the sound of her footsteps following, and finally the sound of the glass door opening. He did his best to keep himself as sane as possible.  Then he felt her hand on his back, he wasn’t going to be able to, he just knew it.  

His body stiffened when he felt something, or rather somethings, pressed against his back.  He dared not turn around, opting to keep his vision on the wall.  He knew what was happening, he knew that he was going to give in.  He knew that his sister wanted this, but he… he was so afraid, afraid that things wouldn’t work out and it would hurt their family.  As his resistance crumbled he felt a single prick against his shoulder.  Then movement, she was writing on his back, her finger darting frantically all to say one single thing.

‘I love you.’  His breath stilled as he swallowed the lump in his throat.  His heart thumped in his chest, his ears fell deaf as the sound of thumping filled his senses.  His brain worked over time as he tried his best to think of what to say.  But… did he really need to think?  Didn’t he already know what he wanted, didn’t he already feel the same?  His eyes drew open as he turned around, his gaze lowered down to match hers.  

He couldn’t believe the look in her eyes, the sense of helplessness that he didn’t think he would ever see in her visage.  But there it was, she was afraid, afraid that he would not return her feelings afraid that he would hate her.  And… and she was wrong in doing so, his hands slipped between her armpits, gently he pulled her up so that their faces were close together.  “I love you too.”  He whispered into her ear, he didn’t need to see the tears, or hear the silent sniffles.  He could tell by the way she pressed her head into the curve of his neck.  She was crying, and as her arms wrapped around his he felt a warmth in his chest, one he’d longed for for the last decade.  

He knew she couldn’t speak, nor would she if she could, but he could feel her lips move against his skin.  He could imagine her voice screaming, I love you over and over.  He knew that she was doing her best to be strong, but it must have taken all of her courage to even get this far.  

Even as his blood pumped from his heart, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, he knew that he felt the same.  He truly did, “I love you so much.”  He grew thankful for the hot water that dripped upon them, especially as his own tears began to seep from the corners of his eyes.  “You mean so much to me… I’m so sorry that… that I didn’t respond sooner.”  

He felt her grip tighten around him, her nails sunk into his back as she held onto him with all her strength.  

It was then that he realized something, his face burned with embarrassment as his lower member rubbed against Neo’s leg.  She’d apparently noticed this too as she was writing on his back again.

‘Excited I see~’  

“I uhm… I mean!”  He didn’t have an excuse, with Neo’s well endowed bosom pressed against his chest he had no way of stopping his penis from growing hard.  “Yeah…”  

He could have sworn he heard a giggle as she tapped his back, without having to be told anything he placed her back down gently.  He swallowed hard, really getting a look at her.  Her large bountiful bust bounced beautifully.  He always knew they were big, but seeing them in the raw, bear mounds of flesh dripping with water that rolled down her fatty curves really got him going.  And… and it didn’t help with how short she was, her breasts were in the perfect place.

Neo stared in awe at the beast in front of her.  As it turned out she actually WAS the perfect height.  In front of her, pressing against the crevice of her large breasts was his big, hard, throbbing, cock.  In plain view for the very first time, she’d seen it before for sure, but this?  This was amazing.  She was up and close with it, the heat that radiated off of the blood filled member sent chills down her spine.  She was afraid that simply touching it would burn her, but she wanted to hold it, to feel it against her flesh.  

Her eyes drew to his abdomen, his muscular body appealed to her sense of taste.  She felt herself become hypnotized as droplets of water dripped between each crevice.  She could watch it all day if she was given the chance.  Then her eyes scanned upwards, her vision fell upon his, he was looking at her with the gaze of a beast.  A predator looking at the prey he was about to devour, and she loved every bit of it.  

Though, she wasn’t just some herbivore ready to be eaten.  No, she was just as hungry as he was, taking the first step she pushed forward.  She felt him quiver against her touch as her breasts pressed against his pelvis.  Her massive mammaries sandwiched his cock perfectly within the endless valley.  She could feel his pulse pumping through his hard throbbing cock even through her large fatty chests.  She could feel it down to her very core, her womb ached and trembled with excitement.  

“Wait uhm hooooOOool!”  Neo didn’t let Jaune finish his comment, pressing her arms against her breasts she squeezed his massive cock between her mountainous breasts.  “OooOoh okay!”  She almost giggled at how frazzled he’d become, still she had a job to do.  Releasing her left breast she reached around his back, grabbing a bottle of body wash.  “Neeeeo whaaaaat oooooh!”  Squeezing the bottle she let a stream of soap drip between her crevice and onto his cock.  

Squeezing her breasts together again, she began to pump and use her arms to move her breasts up and down.  Her fatty flesh molded around his massive cock.  She could feel it pulse and throb against her skin, “Ggg daaaamn.”  She felt a sense of pride fill her bosom at the obvious pleasure her beloved was getting from this little experience.  

Her motions grew faster as she began to use her bob up and down using her feet to bounce off her heels.  The soap began to later around as bubbles formed between his impressive member, which managed to peek through even when nearly consumed by her massive canyon.  Her back arched back as she pushed herself further against him.  A sense of excitement filled her belly as her nipples pressed and rubbed against his muscular abdomen.  Pleasure coursed through her little body as she moved faster and faster.  Her pace quickened when she felt him start to churn.  His cock throbbed madly as he was reaching his peak.  

His panting grew louder the closer he got.  She knew it would only be a matter of time now, he was a virgin or at least she hoped, so he shouldn’t be much lo…  

She didn’t get to finish that thought as thick streams of white goo erupted between her breasts.  A thick white flood of hot cum splattered around covering her tits in a thick matted goo.  She nearly flinched as the hot sensation spread across her bust.  “Ohh… oh dang… wow…”  

Neo could tell his breathing was ragged, she could FEEL his chest move as even his abdomen rose and fell.  “That was… wow…”  

She didn’t know if he could get it up again, but… but this had been the first step and she was just happy that he was happy.  

She was about ready to clean herself up when suddenly she felt his hands wrap around her waist again.  “Uhm… would you… would you like to go all the way?”  

Casting a curious glance up his way she was about to question what he meant when she felt it.  His cock pressed against her chest once more.  Her eyes shot wide open as the massive beast reformed, standing at full attention his powerful shaft had regained all of it’s vigor in a matter of seconds.  

A smile flashed across her lips as she snapped her gaze back to him.  She was more than ready for more of this!  She’d waited who knows how long, and now that it was in front of her, she wanted it.  ‘Yes!’  

“Oh okay!  Just uhm… there’s been something I’ve always wanted to do.”  

Cocking her eyebrow she couldn’t help but grow curious at what he meant.  “If you want me to stop just uhm tell me okay?”  

Before she could ask him, he’d picked her up again, his hands firmly grasped her waist, his fingers digging into her young nubile flesh.  Then it hit her, he wanted to carry her, to bounce her up and down his massive bitch breaker, all while standing up!  That, WOW, she didn’t think he had it in him.  But when she felt the heat between her legs burn like a wildfire, well she couldn’t say she wasn’t interested.  

She bit her lip as she felt a piercing sensation between her thighs.  Her heart throbbed in her chest as she did her best to keep her gaze upon his, “If I hurt you, please stop me okay?”  

Though she nodded, she had no intention of stopping now.  There would be nothing on Remnant that could stop what was about to happen, not if she could help it.  

Her jaw clenched as she felt the tip press against her moist lips.  Her pussy quivered in anticipation, her womb throbbed practically begging for the inevitable.  “Okay.”  Was his only warning as her body seized.  The tip pushed into her entrance splitting the entrance of her pussy open.  Grinding her teeth together she took it, “Are you… are you okay?”  She could tell that he was doing his best to stand, his body wobbled whether it was due to pleasure or the new sensation she didn’t know.  

She did the only thing she could to let him know she was fine, she nodded her head against his chest.  “Okay.”  She would have giggled at any other time, but when she felt him push further, when she felt her walls contract around his massive cock she could only dig her nails into him.  She knew that he’d keep her steady that his strong grip around her waist would hold, but there was a part of her that felt like she needed to hold on, that she needed to keep herself steady.  

Inch by inch she could feel him pushing further, her tight passage stretched around his member, molding into his shape.  She knew now and then that she’d never be satisfied with another man.  Even as the tip pressed against her womb, the head kissing her cervix and pushing against it.  She knew that her body couldn’t ever be filled by another.  She let out a silent gasp as he pressed further, his cock pushing against her insides reshaping her organs in ways she hadn’t realized were possible.  She trembled in his arms as he pushed all the way in, she couldn’t see it, but she was sure that there were tricklets of blood running down her leg as they finally settled against her.  

She could feel him trembling as well, his legs threatening to give way.  She could feel his hot breath against her head as, his breathing was erratic and his heart thumped loudly in her ears.  “I… okay… lets…”  She nodded, not needing him to finish, and for what felt like an eternity she allowed herself to rest against his body.  He filled her in a way that transcended the physical, she finally felt right.  The love she’d yearned for had filled her heart and her passage with everything she had hoped it would.  

After a few minutes she felt his hands move around her back, wrapping around her to keep her held tight.  “I’m going to start moving you, okay?”  She nodded again, wrapping her arms around his neck so she could help balance herself.  

Then it started, his legs bucked as he pulled her up, slowly she felt her insides shift back to normal as he pulled out.  She felt a strange sense of longing even though she knew what was to come.  Finally he pulled out about halfway before he pushed in again, his hips jerked slowly as the tip pressed against her womb again.  His head pressuring her insides and shifting her womb upwards.  

She had never been more grateful for aura till now if she was being honest.  Then he moved again, her vaginal canal split wide again as he pushed inside of her once more.  With each thrust he grew more confident, and she’d become more accustomed to his girth.  By the 5th time he’d pushed against her cervix she’d found herself bouncing up and down against his hips.  His arms gripped her tightly as they shifted her up and down, her arms pulled against his shoulders as he slipped in and out of her.  His cock continued to pump in and out, his member throbbed and scraped against her canals.  

Each ridge ground against each vein, their bodies met against one another over and over.  She could feel him punch against her cervix, with newfound confidence came a more rapid rut.  Her back arched as she released a silent moan, her hips ground against his as she tried to get him further and further in.  She wanted more, wanted him to pound her like he owned her.  She NEEDED the sense of longing, the sense of a primal breeding.  

She’d lost herself to her own lust as he continued to slam into her, his mighty cock began to pummel into her over and over.  Her hastily mositening pussy aided him in his attempts to violate her.  Her body trembled in pleasure as her eyes shot open.  Despite the carnal desire that burned at her, she couldn’t look away from his eyes.  His gorgeous sapphire eyes that looked at her with love and adoration.  

Even lost in her passion she could FEEL the warmth, the sense that she was in fact loved!  “I love you.”  His words pierced through the sound of their rutting flesh.  “I love you!”  His grip on her grew tighter as his nails dug into her flesh.  She responded in kind with her, own fingers raking upon his shoulders as she tried to pull herself closer.  

Thankfully he could feel what she wanted, and even in their sex addled minds they pulled closer.  He lifted her up as their lips met against one another.  Warmth spread from her lips all the way to her core, her uterus pulsed as pleasure shook her very being.  Her mind grew hazed, and like she had before but oh so much stronger she knew that she was about to enter another orgasm.  Her body quaked and trembled as she felt her lights grow dim.  His tongue invaded her mouth as she wrapped hers around his, their bodies acted as one as thick globs of semen filled her.  

Her body pulsed as she writhed in pleasure, his seed spurted into her womb, filling her insides to the brim.  She could feel herself doused in his color, even as their lips refused to part she knew that he was hers as much as she was his.  Their hearts thumped in sync as she rested upon his body.  She knew not if she was covered in sweat or in the water from the shower, but all she knew was that they would need to clean up again.

“I love you…”  

She smiled, she loved him too, and she would have it no other way.  This was the path she wanted and yearned for.  

[memurfevur-archive]

Stuff About Fauruxes and Pyritebloods

Since a lot more of my friends have a lil baby Faurux in their cast of characters or are developing/planning on developing one, I’m deciding to make this.

According to the lore post made by the creator of (our universes’) Pyritebloods, their powers do not stem from mental stimuli and concentration but are instead blood-based.  Their powers are not psionics, and the intensity of their powers rely on the state of their blood; if there’s too much blood loss, for example, they would be weakened, and the same can be said if their blood sugar is imbalanced. Anything that effects the blood can effect the powers.

All Fauruxes are pyrokinetic, meaning they’re able to create and control fire through the use of certain enzymes in their blood and skin. The intensity depends on their emotional state and other health factors. Additionally, if they or the area around them are too damp, they will have trouble maintaining a flame. They will never be hurt by fire. They can be sun-burned.

All Fauruxes are Pyritebloods. This is what allows them their power, and is also important as a defining feature as well as connection to their common Ancestor.

For those who want to incorporate their Ancestor into their lore, the Ancestor would be Rutaci Faurux, formerly known as (the) Quaestor Ichorous Lucremon, now with the title Culpable. What they would most likely know of him, if anything, is that he was once a famous and influential political figure but was found out to be a fraud and traitor to the Empire. He is thus known as a wanted criminal (hence Culpable). This is a demonized version of his true story, but it would be what his kids might realistically recognize him as.

Pyrites can be mistaken as either legally Bronze or Ochre. Sometimes this is how they survive; sometimes a Memorand had recorded them as the wrong blood color when they left the caverns.

Pyrites are Mutantbloods.

Fauruxes, because of their blood, can keep themselves warm easily. They are usually warm to the touch.  

All known Fauruxes have the same twisted and vertical bull-like horns. If your headcanons for descendants veer on the side of mixed inheritance feel free to combine horn styles. It’s preferred that they remain as vertical twists otherwise, though.

Rutaci has autism; feel free to include that in your character’s genetics or not.

I’m running out of things to think about so if you have any questions, feel free to message me.