#so i never saw any of the art of characters until i was later in the series

[feruchemical]

i understand that with the themes of mistborn and the conditions of the skaa (read: chattle slavery) it would be a little? fucked up? to portray skaa with afrocentric features but honestly for the fact that scadrial is so Hot and Hot and Sun and Hot its weird most the characters are depicted with straight hair and paler skin. anyways all this to say one must imagine kelsier fortnite mistborn sunburnt to all hell and back

[sea-lanterns]

THE PURGE

synopsis: (slasher! AU) a group of purgers break into your home.

featuring: arlecchino, columbina, sandrone, signora

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom characters, mentions of blood, vague descriptions of murder, there is a body, mentions of weapons, home invasion, masked se.x, five.some, org.y, transfem! columbina (she has a di.ck), strap ons, oral (both reader and character receiving), face sitting, fing.ering, slight exhibitio.n, may be ooc, not proofread.

art credits: high rise invasion.

Unloading the last of your groceries from the car, you closed the trunk and began walking towards the front entrance of your house. It was a somewhat chilly, somewhat warm day, March 21st to be exact. While the weather was probably enjoyable to those outside of your country, today was going to be a day of misery to many. From March 21st to March 22nd, The Purge will take place; a twelve hour period in which all crime including murder was going to be legal. 

You weren’t exactly sure why your government decided to mandate such a brutal “holiday” but unfortunately as someone who didn’t participate in the Purge, this made your life a lot harder than usual. You had to take extra precaution throughout the year to not make any enemies in your life, even going as far as to shut yourself off from having any friends or close family. 

‘Just twelve hours…I’ve done it several times before, I can do it again.’ You told yourself, unlocking the door to your house. ‘I’ll have to set up the security system again. Only three hours until the Purge.’ 

“Hey neighbor!” You heard a familiar voice call, causing you to look over at your neighbor who was perched against his fence. “Three hours until the Purge, huh?” 

“Ahaha…yeah.” You were getting nervous. It was never a good idea to bring up the Purge with anyone. 

“Hope you’re prepared. Lots of psychos out there who have access to the most dangerous weapons available. I even saw a woman with a chainsaw last year. Had a leather mask and everything.”

“Yeah…” you smiled, but honestly you just really wanted to get in your house.Your neighbor –although seemingly friendly– always gave you the creeps and you tried your best to be on his good side no matter what. 

“Well…Hope for the best for you during this Purge!” He smiled unnervingly wide, making you shiver and fumble to open your door. “Yep! You too!” You called out quickly, shutting the door behind you as quickly as possible. You locked the door immediately and carried your groceries to the kitchen, where you proceeded to double check every exit of the house.

You went through the yearly ritual. Double checking the doors and barricading them with heavy furniture, locking every single window and drawing the blinds (you would activate the security systems later), as well as making your way down to the basement to make sure all your weaponry was secured. 

…And by weaponry, you really only meant the small handgun you kept in a safe down there. You weren’t a super strong person by any means, so a handgun was probably your best suited weapon when it came to defending yourself. However, the handgun was only used as a last resort, so luckily you’ve never had to use it before on any of the previous Purges. Hopefully this year you won’t have to use it still.

You grabbed the handgun and made sure it was loaded before making your way upstairs. Due to being a member of the upper class, you had managed to reinforce your home with a special security system used for keeping your home safe during the Purge. Though it was only three hours before the Purge started, you weren’t taking any chances and activated it now. 

You watched as every door and window in your house became protected beneath a large metal shutter, turning on your security cameras so you could watch whatever was happening outside from the safety of your home. You nestled into the cozy chair of your desk and mentally prepared yourself for another twelve hours of manslaughter you would have to endure. 

You watched from your phone as the infamous warning for the Purge began to play. The alarm never failed to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end, the long list of rules flying over your screen as you peeked through your security cameras. So far, the only things you could see were a bunch of hooligans setting fire to a trashcan in some random alleyway. Okay, not bad. You expected a few arsonists in your neighborhood anyway…

You grabbed a bag of chips from your snack stash and opened it, continuing to watch as you stuffed your face with food like you were binging your favorite TV show. Though the Purge was a very scary time, it never directly harmed you through all the years you survived…

At least, you thought. 

For the next two hours, you simply watched in the comfort of your own bedroom while people in your neighborhood were being slaughtered left and right. You winced when you watched a poor victim get a machete to the face by some woman in a hockey mask. Oof…that’s unfortunate. You heard another scream from afar as another victim got stabbed repeatedly with a kitchen knife by a woman wearing a ghost mask. Hm…why did they look familiar? You wonder if you’ve seen them before… 

You took a sip from your drink and laid back, before nearly jumping out of your skin upon spotting a group of Purgers on your porch. Despite being masked, you could tell from their figures that they appeared to be women, with four of them in total all staring at you through the security camera. 

‘Oh…shit.’ You felt your heart sink as you waited for them to say something, anything. You hadn’t expected any Purgers to actually bother you tonight, as the most that Purgers would do is knock over your trash cans and maybe graffiti your garage door. 

One of the Purgers —a woman wearing a dove-themed mask— stepped forward and smiled at the camera. She raised a delicate hand, before ringing the doorbell and speaking into the camera. 

“Hellooooo~ Is this (Reader)’s residence?” She sang beautifully, toying with the ends of her hair. You tried to figure out her appearance to see if she was familiar to anyone you knew or talked to, but you don’t recall ever meeting a woman with black hair and bright pink streaks. 

You stayed quiet, hoping that they would just assume you couldn’t hear them and move on. This however, didn’t work as the group of women were persistent.

“Hellooooo~ I know the cutie is in there…” The dove-masked women cooed, ringing your doorbell again before one of the other Purgers got impatient. A taller, blonde woman wearing a moth-themed mask grumbled and raised her weapon, “It’s no use. Let’s just find a weak spot and break in.” 

“Nooo! That’s so barbaric, we must treat a woman gently.” 

“We are quite literally, purging her home.” Another woman chimed in, this time a short woman with beige-colored hair wearing a doll mask. 

“Yes, but I would like her to respond before we break in.” The dove-mask pouts. 

“Enough.” Finally, the fourth woman spoke up, her posture and height intimidating as she stepped to the front. This time it was a woman wearing a harlequin mask, her gaze piercing through the camera. “We know you are listening, (Reader). It isn’t polite to keep your guests waiting.” 

She smirked at the camera, as if edging you to press the call button and respond. You felt as if your blood was being drained from your body, a morbid feeling of death looming over you like a cloud. You had no choice, if you didn’t respond they would just try and break in anyway, so perhaps it would be wise to try and convince them not to? 

You did not think that was plausible, but Purgers were still human. Maybe they will be human just for you… 

“C-Can I help you?” Fuckkkkk you did not mean to sound like a timid fast food worker working at the Drive Thru. You mentally cursed yourself as you watched the other four women smile at your compliance.

“There’s her cute voice!” The dove-mask exclaimed excitedly. “I was worried some other Purgers may have gotten to you already…” 

“Can I help you?” You stated again firmly, wanting them to leave as soon as possible. “If you’re looking to rob my house, I’m afraid I don’t have anything of value.” 

“Oh…sweetheart,” the harlequin-mask chuckled, sliding her hand across the handle of her bloody ax. “You’re in there.” 

Oh great. Yeah why bother spending the Purge robbing stuff that is actually useful to you, when you can murder people instead. Genius. 

“…Okay, I know what you are implying, but I beg of you not to kill me! I promise that after the Purge is over I will compensate for you all somehow. Whether it’d be money or anything else you’d like, I’ll do it!”

“Open those ears of yours, girl. We want you, not your house.” The moth-mask tsked, a bit of annoyance present on the edge of her voice. “We are coming in whether you like it or not. As long as you are inside, we will get in too.” 

“…No need to be so mean, Signora.” You heard the dove-mask huff, folding her arms. “Just hold tight, baby. We’re coming to find you~”

You let out a small, panicked squeak of terror and cut the mic, standing up from your seat and making your way to your drawer to check on the handgun you had stashed away. You couldn’t believe that this was the year you would have to use it, and your adrenaline was pulsing like crazy. 

‘All loaded’ you mentally prepared yourself for the worst, taking deep breaths and walking back to your computer monitors that displayed the cameras. You let out another panicked squeak when you saw that the Purgers had left your front porch, now scattered around your property doing god knows what. 

“Why this year of all years?” You whined, keeping your handgun close to you as you kept looking through the monitors. Okay, okay, they were just circling your house, no biggie. Their weapons appeared to be of class 1 only, so it would be next to impossible for them to break down your security systems. 

Really, though you were on edge, you should be relatively safe so long as the power doesn’t—

Almost as if your fate was being toyed at the hands of a God, your lights suddenly went out and the sound of your metal shutters started coming up. Oh…you were fucked now.

‘…I am dead.’ You wanted to scream, but knew better as it was time for survival. It was every woman for herself, no beating around the bush. Logistically you weren’t sure if you could take out four Purgers on your own, but if you were going to die tonight you were going to die fighting ugly. 

You heard one of your windows shatter and flinched when you heard footsteps now roaming the downstairs of your house. Okay, you got this. You technically have an advantage as you have a firearm and they don’t know where you are, you should play this safe. 

You held your breath and stealthily made your way downstairs, holding the gun. You saw the broken window in your living room, swallowing thickly before looking around to see if there was anyone around. Your eyes suddenly landed on a bloody trail that looked as if a body had been dragged through your house. Did they just kill someone? 

You suddenly heard a thud behind you and whirled around quickly, only to accidentally let out a gasp when you saw the dead body of your neighbor just lying there on your kitchen floor. You managed to hold in a scream, but it was no use when you felt strong arms hold you from behind, a yell escaping your throat as you felt one of the Purgers’ grip on you.

“Mm…not a screamer…quite the silent one, aren’t you?” You heard a rough, raspy voice as the woman behind you grabbed your gun and tore it away with ease. Just how strong was she?! Your breath hitched when you felt the sharp end of a knife press against your throat, her voice humming with pleasure. “I like quiet girls.”

From your peripheral vision you saw that it was the Purger with the harlequin mask, her hair mostly white with a few streaks of black, yet another person you were not familiar with. Footsteps then entered the kitchen from the thick fog of darkness, a giggle leaving another one of the Purgers. 

“You caught her! Heh, I guess you won this one, Arle~!” It was the Purger with the dove-mask, her cute and feminine voice not matching her appearance at all as her white dress was covered in blood. “I want to pet her!” 

“Wash your hands, Columbina.” Another voice came, this time it was the doll-masked Purger who came walking out of the darkness. “I don’t want you getting blood all over her. She’ll stink.” 

“A little blood won’t hurt her, Sandrone.” 

You whimpered when the woman named “Columbina” walked closer to you, her sadistic smile present as she ran her fingers across your cheek. You would flinch away if not for the harlequin mask —you believe she was called Arle?— holding you in place, her muscles tightening around you and preventing you from squirming. 

“Ah…how cute!” Columbina cooed. “I almost feel bad for scaring her, she looks like she’s about to cry.”

“She looks prettier that way.” Came a deeper, more mature voice, as the moth-masked woman —Signora, if you remembered correctly— came into view. You gulped when Signora strutted over to you and took your chin in her hand, admiring you from behind her mask and turning your face to look at all your angles. “Loosen your grip a bit, Arlecchino. The girl looks like she’s about to pass out from blood circulation.” 

Arlecchino let out a titular hum. “And why would I do that? If I let her go, she can run off.” 

“Not with us here. We all can catch her quite easily.” Sandrone said matter-of-factly. 

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.” Arlecchino leaned down and whispered gravely into your ear. “I don’t recommend running, little one. All four of us can hunt you down quite easily, and if you ran out into the open during the Purge, well…”

She chuckled and playfully blew on your ear. “Someone else might get to you before us.” 

Your body involuntarily shivered and you felt the back of your ear grow hot. Upon seeing how much of an impact she had on you, Arlecchino smirked and carefully let go of you. 

You should run. In fact, you weren’t sure why you were staying in place surrounded by these murderous women. Every instinct and sense of logic in your brain was telling you to make a run for it, but another part of you knew that it was fruitless to even make it out of your house. 

“You know, you should be thanking us.” Signora said coldly. “Without us here, you probably would’ve been murdered by that neighbor of yours.” 

“Wh-What?”

“Oh! She speaks…” Columbina giggled. “Believe it or not, we found him messing around with some circuit box in your yard. Looks like he was the one who knocked out the power to kill you himself.”

Your eyes landed on the body of your neighbor laying on the floor. His eyes still wide open like he was stuck in time, lips parted like was in the middle of screaming before meeting his bloody demise. “Of course…we took care of him for you! Wouldn’t want our pretty girl to get hurt.”

Columbina smiled and kicked his body away like it was nothing, looking up at you like they had just done a great thing. You kept looking between the Purgers and the dead body of your neighbor, unable to cope with the fact that this would be the first Purge where you might end up like another body bag. 

“…Is this where I get killed now?” You laughed weakly, cold sweat dripping down your face. “I…I’m not sure what else to do at this point, get on my knees and beg for my life?”

“Ooh. I like the kneeling and begging part.” Sandrone comments bluntly. Meanwhile, the other women chuckle at your pathetic display, with Arlecchino pulling you towards her and murmuring in your ear. 

“Oh, we aren’t interested in hurting you. At least not that much.” She suddenly slid her hands up your stomach and towards your breasts, a gasp leaving your lips when she fondled them through your shirt. ”…Soft.” 

“Easy now, Arlecchino. She hasn’t accepted yet.” Signora hums, gently pulling Arle’s eager hands away from your chest. Arlecchino slips out a small growl of dissatisfaction, but pulls away anyway to comply with Signora’s requests. Despite how refined Arlecchino seemed to be, you could tell she was a woman of a lot of restraint, and she had been itching to feel you up despite her calm demeanor. 

“If it wasn’t obvious by Arlecchino’s…desires,” Signora comments, stroking your face, “We want your body, but not in the way that you think.” 

“You’re just so pretty…especially when your bottom lip wobbles in fear,” Columbina whispers. “How could we not want you this way?”

Oh…oh.

Now you know why they haven’t killed you yet. 

“Look at her face, all dumb and bewildered.” Sandrone comments, the faintest of grins appearing on her face as she took in your confused expression. 

“What do you say, let us have some fun with you?” Arlecchino purrs from behind, making you shiver in anticipation and a little bit of curiosity. 

“…I suppose.” You said softly, a little hesitant to agree. 

“Oh my, what a promiscuous thing she is,” Signora comments, a sly smile making its way to her lips. “Wanting to take all four of us at the same time, what a whore.” 

“Easy now, Signora. She can’t help how curious she is.” Columbina smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Arle~ Be a dear and carry the poor lamb upstairs. The dead guy is killing the mood.”

“Of course.” Arlecchino grinned wolfishly and took you in her arms, throwing you over her shoulder like it was nothing while going up the stairs. You could only watch helplessly as the three other women followed after you, smiling at how utterly pathetic you looked while being carried by Arlecchino with one arm. 

…You weren’t sure how you got up to this point. One moment you were almost pissing your pants in fear, and the next you were suddenly thrown into your bed and surrounded by four Purgers. All of them stared down at you with a look of pure joy in their eyes, practically ravishing you on the bed with just their gaze alone. 

Surprisingly, it was Sandrone that made the first move. For as quiet as she was, the woman crawled on top of you and grabbed your face for herself, pulling you into a kiss. 

“Oh my! I didn’t expect Sandrone to be so eager…” Columbina giggled. Meanwhile, in the corner of your eye; you could see Arlecchino unzipping her pants and Signora taking off her gloves. 

You couldn’t watch them for long, however; as Sandrone forcefully pushed you back and shoved her tongue down your mouth, turning the kiss into a more seductive dance of tongues. The doll-masked woman moaned at the taste of you, pulling you in closer to her as she aggressively pushed her hands up your shirt. 

“Mm…what a sloppy kisser. I could tell you’ve never had another woman in your mouth before.” Sandrone pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your tongue with hers. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that for you.” 

“Arle, no need to be so impatient. She’s still on the bed.” You heard Signora gently scold Arlecchino and looked over to see what she was doing. The harlequin woman was gritting her teeth and tugging her trousers off as fast as she could, the base of a harness and what looked to be a crimson-colored strap peeking through the gap of her zipper. 

Oh…they were prepared for this. 

“Hey. Don’t look at her, look at me.” Sandrone sounded annoyed and gripped your face to look at her again, pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Pfft. Sandrone is getting jealous.” You felt the bed space behind you dip, and in the midst of making out with Sandrone, you felt Columbina’s lithe and petite body encircle yours. “Let’s see how good you taste.” 

Columbina’s lips latched onto the back of your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin hard enough to leave a few bruises. The choked whimpers you let out made the dove-mask and doll-mask moan with pleasure, Sandrone pulling you more against herself while Columbina grinded her hips from behind. 

As Sandrone’s hands fondled your breasts under your shirt, you felt something small yet hard growing under Columbina’s dress. It was clear the two women were getting heavily turned on, with how Sandrone was starting to tug off your shirt and Columbina grinding faster against you. 

“Let’s put that sloppy tongue to use.” Sandrone comments bluntly, lowering you down against the bed as she raises her dress to pull off her panties. Columbina takes her position between your legs, pulling your pants off and eagerly wanting to stuff her face in your cunt. “No teeth now. Try to be a good girl.” Sandrone slides her panties off and spreads her legs over your awaiting mouth, using her fingers to give you quite the show of her sweet pussy glistening with juices. The doll-masked woman didn’t wait for another second and took her place at her rightful seat, letting you taste the sweet tang of her cunt smothering your lips. 

Meanwhile, Columbina was eagerly pulling your own panties down with her hands, her tongue —which was freakishly long— swiped at her bottom lip the moment she saw your bare entrance. “Mm…Gotta make sure you’re wet enough to take Arle’s strap.” She whispered, parting your legs gently –though her nails were digging into your thighs– and licking a long stripe across your clit. 

“Nnnh–!” You moaned into Sandrone’s own clit, causing her to buck her hips needily. “Fuck…her tongue feels so good.” 

“I can only imagine,” Columbina coos, smothering her face deeper and darting her hot tongue out quickly. Her hands trailed down to her dress and began lightly jerking herself off while she ate you out, moaning into your thighs as she ravished your insides. You hadn’t expected to be double teamed so easily, but you didn’t mind, eating out Sandrone and tasting her folds more thoroughly while Columbina masturbated to the taste of you. 

“Are you– mmppgh…guys ready?” Sandrone moans out sweetly, riding your face harder as she looks back at Arlecchino and Signora. Both women had stripped out of their festive Purger outfits, with Arlecchino wearing nothing but a thick, girthy strapon and Signora dressed in the prettiest lingerie you had ever seen. “Oh come on Signora, that’s– fuck, overkill for the Purge, isn’t it?” 

“The girl likes it.” Signora tuts, casting you a smirk beneath her mask. “Is she wet enough, Columbina?” 

“Nope!” Columbina pulls her head away from between your thighs, her face smeared in all your juices while your thighs are left a trembling mess. 

“Liar.”

“She needs to be wetter! Let me eat her out more!”

“Columbina.” Arlecchino finally makes her presence known, crawling over to the bed and pulling her hair back, forcefully pulling her away from your cunt. Columbina whined and gave Arlecchino a glare, not quite finished with eating you out yet. “Arle, I said she needed to be wetter.”

You couldn’t believe you had four women in your bed, all fighting for you during the Purge. You would voice your concerns if not for Sandrone still whining and grinding on your face so roughly. Though the woman was a small, seemingly gentle woman, it was obvious she was one of the more desperate ones of the group. 

“Suck on her tits or something. I want her tight cunt swallowing my strap.” Arlecchino growled, possessively stroking your thigh while Columbina huffed. “Fine.” She gave your inner thigh one last bite, causing you to jolt and accidentally make Sandrone come from the sudden movement. 

“Oh– nnngh!” Sandrone’s little legs trembled greatly, her orgasm washing over her as she ground her hips more firmly. The sweet, succulent taste of her cum washed down your throat, making your eyes flutter shut in how good Sandrone tasted. “Was her tongue game that good, Sandrone?” Columbina purred, suddenly taking an interest in your mouth. “Yeah, her movements are amateaur at best, but somehow feel really good?” 

“Heh, good enough for me.” Columbina proceeded to shove Sandrone off and take her place, dangling her small, yet very eager cock in front of your lips. “Let’s get those pretty lips sucking me off, hm?” She smiled and caressed your cheek before slipping her tip inside, watching with satisfaction as you took all of her length so easily. Meanwhile, Arlecchino and Signora were more occupied on your raw pussy, which was twitching with need after being neglected for too long. Signora cooed and pressed a teasing kiss to your clit, lightly blowing on it before rising to focus on your breasts. 

“Poor baby is feeling neglected up here, huh?” She teased, the blonde woman leaning in to lick a long stripe across your tits before latching one nipple in her mouth. She took pleasure in the way your back arched off the bed, the Fair Lady’s tongue swirling around hungrily as her fingers swirled around your clit. “Give me some lube, Arle. I want to finger her for a bit before you start.” 

You heard the sound of growl before Arlecchino reluctantly obliged. “Make it quick, I want to fold her into the mattress myself.” She gave Signora a bottle of lube and you could only moan when you felt the Fair Lady’s cold fingers circle your entrance with a slimy substance coating them. When you moaned however, you choked on Columbina’s cock, causing her to groan and buck her hips. “Goodness her throat is…quite tight.”

Signora chuckled at that and pressed her fingers deeper into your entrance, watching with great pleasure as they sunk in with little to no resistance. “And quite wet. You did a good job of loosening her up, Columbina.” Signora proceeded to finger you to see just how far you could take her. Her fingers –which were very long and thin– stretching you out and brushing up against all your tender spots to see which ones would make you squirm. 

As this was happening, you felt Columbina’s tiny cock start twitching in your mouth, signaling that she was getting close. Unable to keep your moans to yourself, you stifled a small whine and traced the underside of her shaft with your tongue, watching as her face made all sorts of lewd expressions. “Oh f-fu– I’m gonna come…” she whimpered, riding your face faster before shooting a hot load down your throat and throwing her head back. 

“Oh? What a good girl, making two of us orgasm already.” Signora hummed, pulling her fingers out and licking them clean. “I guess it’s time to get to the main event now.” 

Columbina tiredly got off you and went to join Sandrone, who was lying blissfully on the bed and watching how you took the final two women. The taste of sex and cum lingered on the back of your tongue, yet you were now hooked. You gazed at Arlecchino who had been waiting impatiently at the foot of the bed, stroking her fat strap and making sure you saw. 

“Hold her down, Signora.” Arlecchino commanded, watching as you were manhandled to switch positions. No longer were you lying flat on your back, as you were now sat up against Signora with her chest against your back, bare breasts and stomach pressed against your skin and making you shiver. “Such a good girl, letting us manhandle you as we please…” Signora’s deep, husky voice whispered in your ear, her hands making their way down to your thighs and keeping them spread for Arlecchino. “Have fun with her, Arle.” 

Arlecchino didn’t need to be told twice. She crawled on top of you and angled her strap to brush against your entrance. Her eyes narrowed as she saw how needy your pussy was after going through three women, seeing how twitchy and puffy it was. “You three really did a number on her.” She mumbled, brushing the tip of her strap between your folds. When you trembled and let out a gasp at the feeling, both Arle and Signora smirked, with Signora trailing her hands down to pull your folds apart. 

“Do your worst. She wants it.” 

Arlecchino grinned and sandwiched you against Signora, slowly pushing her strap into you and watching as you were speared open on her faux cock. “Fuck– she’s tight still…” She grumbled, enjoying the way your pussy gripped the silicone so roughly. 

“Well you did buy a girthy one.” Sandrone says matter-of-factly. 

“I know, but she seems to enjoy it anyways.” Arlecchino laughed wolfishly and continued to spear you open while your cunt struggled to accommodate her girth. You had never felt so full before when taking a toy, letting out sweet whimpers as the smallest beads of tears formed at your lashes. 

“Oh, don’t cry…” Signora hummed behind you, licking your tears away. “It’ll feel so good soon~”

The harlequin let out a grunt as she pushed her hips further, watching as her strap finally nestled itself comfortably inside you. She could see the slightest bit of arousal pool at the base of her strap, and that only spurred her on more, starting to thrust at a shallow pace. You threw your head back against Signora’s shoulder, feeling her soft lips press kisses on your tear-dotted face. Arlecchino was just so deep, filling your insides on just her girth alone while she thrusted. 

“My…what a peculiar sight.” Arlecchino chuckled, her eyes filled with pure desire as she saw you trembling beneath her. Your legs pathetically squirming yet being held down, clearly overstimulated now that you had to go through the fourth Purger. 

“I haven’t even bottomed out yet.” She smiled wickedly, pinning you in place while she nearly folded you in half. If not for Signora sitting there behind you, you were sure she would have pushed you into a full on mating press into the mattress. “Hold her tighter, I’m going all in.” 

Every woman in the room watched with interest as Arlecchino took a deep breath and slowly inched herself deeper until your cunt hit her harness. With each inch, you felt a loud whine rip through you, the fat tip of Arle’s strap pushing against your walls and forming a slight belly bulge. “Oh my…” Signora’s eyes glazed over with lust, trailing her hand up to rest atop the bulge. “Look how deep you are in her, Arle.” 

“How cuteee!” Columbina cooed. “I wanna give her a belly bulge too!”

“Maybe another time. The poor girl looks as if she’ll pass out after this round.” 

All four women leered at you hungrily before Arlecchino pulled out and slammed back in. They took great pleasure in watching Arle ravage your insides, wet smacks filling the air as your expressions formed into even lewder ones. Signora looked the most ecstatic, her hand gently pushing down on the bulge each time Arle bottomed out and thrusted back into you. 

The extra force of Signora pushing down on your stomach and Arlecchino fucking you like an animal was almost too much to handle. Each punctuated thrust of Arlecchino’s hips made your poor body bounce rather weakly, your legs scrambling to pull away from Signora’s grip and latch around the harlequin’s waist. 

“She’s getting close. I can feel it…” Arlecchino growled, craving to see your cum form a ring around her base. “Come for me…I know you can do it.” 

She held onto your ankle and gave it a small kiss, looking down at you as you writhed around like a worm. The way your leg twitched and the tears trailed down your face was enough to make all the girls swoon over you harder. You were just too cute, they were glad they broke in to get you. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you felt your pussy tense up before cumming all over Arlecchino’s strap. The harlequin groaned at the sight and started thrusting even faster, going feral at the sight of your cum drenching her faux cock and helping you ride out your orgasm. The other woman in the room giggled at the sight of you reduced to a whining, babbling mess, Arlecchino finally pulling out and admiring how soaked you made her strap. 

“Goddamn…” she grunted, dropping your legs to the bed and watching as you collapsed against Signora, too tired to even keep your eyes open. 

“Look at her, barely able to stay awake.” Sandrone comments, gently massaging one of your thighs. “We really did a number on her.” 

“Awww, I really wanted to fuck her too.” Columbina pouts, tracing the hickies and bite marks the women left on your body.

“Maybe when she wakes up. For now, let’s let the poor girl rest.” Signora gently caressed your cheek and gave you a small kiss. “Close your eyes, little one. We will keep you safe throughout the rest of the Purge.” 

Arlecchino crawls up to join you by your side, pulling you against her while all the other women adjust to snuggle around you, essentially turning this into one big cuddle pile. “Rest well,” Arlecchino whispers huskily, your eyes growing heavier as you bask in the embrace of the four Purgers who broke into your home, yet showed you the best way to celebrate the gory holiday.

“Happy Purge.” 

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[signanothername]

Saw your animatic of NIGHTMARE HAS FALLEN, peak comedy right there

also, your art of Killer squshing Nightmare's cheeks was awesome, but also prompted my brain to question "How would Killer interact with Passive?"

On one hand, small child, like Chara, but wow this is really cute and innocent, why the fuck is it considered evil? On the other hand, if he knew it was Nightmare...actually, idk, Killer is pretty smart, so I'm not entirely sure how it would play out

Hahaha thank you!!

Ooooh i love this question

Ok so I feel like it depends on what circumstances they meet, but let’s go with “Killer never saw Passive before and it’s the very first time they meet”

I don’t think the fact Passive being a child would deter Killer at all, cause Passive differs greatly in temperament and character from Chara, I feel like Passive might actually reminds him of Frisk actually (and that on its own opens a whole pack of problems)

But the thing is, just as you said, Killer’s smart, I believe he’ll figure out it’s Nightmare pretty quickly, considering how observant Killer is and how Nightmare’s appearance gives it away

I mean, a child that is basically a copy paste of Dream only has the opposite colors, has a golden crown of his own with a crescent on it?? And is glued to his lil book? Yeah that’s definitely Nightmare, hell his lil belt has “NM” on it, like Killer would have to be an absolute idiot to not figure it out, with one look Killer would immediately know it’s Nightmare, it wouldn’t take any time at all

Now to talk about how they’d interact

Let’s imagine they’re in Dreamtale before it got destroyed

Important thing to think about first and foremost, is whether Dream would be present with Nightmare when they meet or not

For the sake of this ask we’re going to assume Dream has gone to visit the village, so it’s only Nightmare sitting with the tree by himself

I feel like it’s important to keep in mind that this isn’t a one way interaction, it’s not just Killer’s reaction to Nightmare, it’s also Nightmare’s reaction to Killer

Nightmare already has a bad experience with strangers, and Killer isn’t the most friendly looking, so i feel like their interaction is gonna go a bit poorly actually, cause Nightmare would assume this stranger is either A-here to hurt him, or B- here for the golden apples he’s guarding, both not good things

Killer on the other hand would honestly just be curious about Nightmare at first, cause it’s not every day you get to see the king of negativity and darkness, one of the most powerful beings, as a mere helpless and defenseless child, it’d definitely make Killer wonder how the hell was this tiny little creature entrusted to guard something that keeps emotional balance in the Multiverse (not that it truly matters to him, not when he can’t feel anything himself right?)

So Nightmare would be extremely wary and even a bit frightened of Killer while Killer would just stare through Nightmare for a few minutes, but here comes the interesting question…

At what timeline does their meeting occur?? Is it in which Killer is still under Nightmare’s command, or is it after Killer was saved by Color, cause depending on it i feel like Killer’s reaction can differ

If Killer was still under Nightmare, is he in a trigger happy mood or is he feeling chill enough to just not feel like killing anyone, would Killer take this as an opportunity to hurt Nightmare back, or would he not attack him at all? I feel like the latter’s more plausible, cause Killer is usually chill actually until triggered, pushed, or commanded to, plus if it’s Nightmare then he’s not very interested to attack him…. physically at least (tormenting the child mentally seems a bit fun, but he’d file that in his brain for later)

I can see Killer actually taking interest in the apples, I mean they’re literally the twins’ souls… in the future at least, and Nightmare would definitely be wary but REALLY surprised to know Killer isn’t just interested in the golden apples, but his own black apples too, cause no one ever liked his black apples, everyone thought they were evil so why would this stranger not think the same?

I feel like Nightmare while still extremely wary wouldn’t be able to stop the child wonder in his heart and warm feeling blossoming in his little chest at the idea someone actually being ok with the black apples, i can see him take one of his black apples to killer to offer him, i mean no one ever wants to be near his black apples so maybe he finally met a monster who would accept him and his apples?

And Killer is interested yes, but not for the reasons little Nightmare’s thinking about

So you’d better believe Killer would accept the offer, he actually gets to take a closer look at what’s supposed to be Nightmare’s soul in the future? Oh how fun tormenting future Nightmare and Dream would be when he understands how they work

I feel like the apple’s aura wouldn’t have much effect on him except for maybe his soul wavering a bit as it responds to the negativity it’s always been subjected to, a familiar conditioning if you will, and Nightmare would get curious enough to ask about why Killer seems unaffected, only for Killer to tell Nightmare that he can’t really feel anything, and Nightmare just not comprehending that fact, he’d insist that everyone has feelings, and that the balance of those positive and negative emotions is what the tree is for, Killer can’t just not feel anything, that everyone is affected by the apples’ aura, only for Killer to tell Nightmare that he’s a “special case” and would take a lot more than just aura to make him feel anything (cough like tentacles of pure agonizing negativity and the power of 999 black apples taking ahold of the very culmination of his being cough, i can imagine Killer smiling a creepy knowing smile as he looks at Nightmare, little Night doesn’t know what that look means, but he doesn’t like it, he feels like he’s missing so much context)

I can see Killer simply asking question after question about the apples to understand how they work, especially the black apples, and little Nightmare answering only some of them, because a child or not, Nightmare’s smart, he’s not to give info that could give this stranger an opportunity to do as he pleases to the apples, Killer absolutely notices Nightmare’s wariness and his very careful attitude, and Killer thinks Nightmare’s smart for it

Then again that’s the child that’s going to grow to become a tyrant so it’s to be expected that he’d be clever (it’s interesting to see how Nightmare used to be at least)

Killer would definitely try to find a way out after he’s gotten the info he needs (or as much as little Nightmare was willing to provide) and he holds no illusion that threatening little Nightmare would get him to talk, cause if he knows Nightmare well enough it’ll only do the opposite and little Nightmare will not provide anything more, and so it’s time to go cause he holds no deluded attachment to this place or little Nightmare

And I can see Nightmare actually asking Killer what his name is, after all they’ve been talking but they haven’t introduced themselves, that Nightmare has never seen him around here before, and I can see this to be the moment Killer takes the opportunity to be a bit of a bitch and say some bullshit about he’s actually from a different time and how his name indicates his job only to introduce himself as “Killer” and to immediately go “and you’re Nightmare, the king of negativity, tyrant lord of darkness and nightmares” (Killer’s ironically a lot like Corrupted Nightmare in finding joy in the mental anguish of people more so than physical anguish)

Nightmare doesn’t know what “Killer” is talking about, but it sends a shiver down his spine and he’s going to lie if he said he wasn’t terrified not only of the thought of a murderer from a different time knowing who he is, but of the implication of Killer’s comment about his possible future :)

[evilbihan]

MK1's Lin Kuei

Can we take a second to talk about how bad the Lin Kuei are at what they're doing in MK1? They're supposed to be this ancient clan of elite warriors with years worth of combat experience and knowledge and skills beyond anyone's comprehension... but they're actually so comedically terrible at their job.

I won't include the teahouse fight in this since it doesn't count because they had to hold back against Kung Lao and Raiden but everything happening from there just contradicts all that the story wants us to believe about the Lin Kuei.

Cage mansion fight

Both Sub-Zero and Scorpion get absolutely destroyed by Johnny (who doesn't even seem to have any special powers in the new era, unlike the old timeline's Johnny). Of course, one might argue that they had to still hold back here since Johnny wasn't an enemy, they were just trying to recruit him and Liu Kang was there too, but it only gets worse from here.

2. The Ying fortress

This is one of the most hilarious scenes in the story mode. "No, you two can't come with us although you effortlessly defeated the three of us before because it takes YEARS to master the art of stealth."

What stealth????

Fast forward to the Lin Kuei trying to get inside the Ying fortress. Surprisingly, they can't make it three steps until they're discovered by Nitara and one of them almost dies because he had to show off instead of climbing the wall efficiently and, most importantly, without raising unnecessary attention.

How did Smoke not consider that a guy floating in mid-air would be spotted from a mile away? You can almost pinpoint the moment his brothers realized it was a mistake to bring him with them.

Not that they're doing much better though. On their way in, the three trigger pretty much every single defense the fortress has to offer. Nitara, Ermac... the guards that show up later on.

In fact, this whole thing couldn't have gone any worse if they had brought a marching band along with them.

Next, we get to see Bi-Han and Kuai Liang sneaking up on Shang Tsung so close behind him I'm pretty sure their footsteps would have given them away. They're completely out in the open, Kuai Liang is not even watching his back. It's surprising they made it this far.

3. Capturing Shang Tsung

As we learn, their plan to capture Shang Tsung is, in fact, nonexistent.

I don't know where their experience and years worth of training suddenly went in that moment, but this scene of them just... jumping out of their hiding spot and running at their enemies full speed with no real strategy behind it was so ridiculous and disappointing to me. It just feels rushed and unprofessional and of course, this not at all thought through maneuver triggers the guards to show up and intervene.

It's such an amateur mistake it makes you wonder why Liu Kang trusted them with this task in the first place.

Somehow, the brothers then get overwhelmed and end up captured themselves. The story really wants us to believe the two of them combined couldn't take on a few guards, but later on Scorpion is able to defeat them alone using the power of plot armor.

While Bi-Han had at least some significant wins against Nitara, Ermac, Quan Chi and Shang Tsung, the story of course forced him to lose in the end, Kuai Liang's losing streak for some reason magically ended the second he left the Lin Kuei and Smoke??? He got to beat up an old lady in a staged fight.

It's sad to see how little the writers care about the Lin Kuei, even with the franchise's most iconic characters both being Lin Kuei in the new era. I will never not be upset about the potential that went to waste here. Smoke didn't even get to be in a single fight, we saw nothing of Bi-Han's strategical genius and cunning and the rest of the Lin Kuei only showed up for the staged teahouse fight. They all deserved so much better.

[moscnios]

HIII ur writing is so cute!!!!! i love them a lot, i wanna request law, luffy, n crocodile with maybe a crush ( or s/o whatever u see fit!! ) on reader who is gen like?? super duper quiet doesn’t interact n show emotion but the min anyone brings up what they enjoy ( animals, art, manga, etc!!) they just don’t shut up about it?? they get so passionate and can ramble on and on about their interest and i kinda want the boys to be like “cute… :)”

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  headcanons  ,  with an stoic s/o who is passionate about their interests.

!!     characters! . . .  law, luffy, & crocodile.

!!     cw(s)! . . .  n/a. gn!reader. no pronouns used. not proofread.

!!     notes! . . .  thank you so much for the love !! such a cute request !! plus one of my favorite character tropes, stoic bub who is actually babie. thank you for requesting !!! <33

law doesn’t realize he hardly knows what things you like until your face lights up after penguin brought up one of your hidden interests

watching you ramble on and on about your interests to penguin, he realizes he’s never seen this side of you.

it surprised him seeing you show any emotion other than your regular stone face

if you remember that face he made after bepo was acting cute after eating fish from the river, that’s the face he makes with you

he does listen well, so he remembers your interests. he’ll ask you about them later, happy to listen to you talk about what you love for hours

every day he finds a new reason to fall in love with you all over again

luffy is very interested in your favorite things. he will go down a giant list of things in order to figure out what makes you happiest

it started off as a challenge to see how to get you to smile. a challenge that he failed. finally, you saw something related to one of your interests and you smiled big

he’d never seen you smile so big, let alone smile at all. he thinks your smile is so beautiful, and definitely wants to see it more

he asked you about your interests, listening to you talk about them. you know luffy as someone who doesn’t have the best attention span in the world

but here he is, laying on the deck, looking at you with stars in his eyes, still engaged in the conversation

you both look really cute

soon after he joins in on your interests. now the two of you are rambling together about your hyper fixations

crocodile has always been interested in what makes you happy. you’re always so quiet and don’t seem interested in most things

when he finally asked you what you’re interested in and your eyes light up and you start rambling, he’s taken aback by just how adorable you are

he loves listening to you talk

during his free time at work, he’ll call you up and ask you about your interests just to listen to your voice, sitting back in his chair with a small smile

he loves buying you things related to the things you are interested in, bringing them home, and surprising you

seeing your eyes light up in joy and that smile of glee, it gets him every time

but of course, don’t forget to give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you

©MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[dreamingnights]

Subtle games (part 1)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Author's note: this fic is based on the idea about Larissa and an innocent clumsy adorable Reader. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes! Enjoy, I hope you like it!!!

Warnings: none.

Y/N couldn't walk. The gray monsters were chasing her through the long passageways of Nevermore and her legs weren't moving fast enough to escape from their shadows. She could even feel the warm breath of the creatures at the nape of her neck just before she fell into an absolute void.

Her own screams woke her up but Y/N quickly realized that she was perfectly safe in her room's comfortable big bed. She had had another nightmare. When she calmed down she turned her head and tried to decipher with half-closed eyes the time her clock showed. Half past seven, she thought. Half past seven! She was going to be late for the staff meeting again. Y/N quickly sat up, cleaned herself up and put on her academy uniform at lightning speed. She left her room slamming the door and went down the stairs -two at a time- until she reached the small kitchen next to the meeting room, where she quickly made herself a strong coffee. At the precise moment when she was about to enter the adjoining room, where the weekly session was held, someone closed the door in front of her and the content of the coffee cup fell down due to the loud bang. When she saw the huge brown stain on her new shirt Y/N cursed outloud. However, she thought it was better to show up like that than to change clothes again, arrive embarrassingly late and make a fool of herself in front of her imposing boss. So, Y/N gathered all her courage and opened the heavy door to the office.

Nine serious faces stared at her from their seats. They were all the teachers of Nevermore, the school for outcasts. Y/N was the newest addition and she taught art and literature classes. She, like all of her students and mates, also had special powers. In her case, she was able to fleetingly give life to her own creations, something that could turn out to be her best dream and also her worst nightmare when her characters returned to their original inert state on the blank page of a book.

Nevermore's headmistress was Larissa Weems, a tall woman with platinum hair who wore a very elegant green suit. As usual she was the one who was in charge of the meeting.

- You're late again, Miss Y/L/N. -Larissa sighed. Later she looked at her stained uniform and drew an incredulous smile. -You have a curious sense of aesthetics. Anyway, take a seat.

- I'm sorry, Miss Weems. It will not happen again. -A blushed and hyperventilated Y/N sat next to Mr. Vlad, the fencing coach.

During the course of the meeting Y/N gradually regained her composure and then explained the challenges posed by the new semester at the academy. Y/N could even see an almost imperceptible smile forming on Larissa's lips as she listened to her attentively. Or maybe she was imagining it again, Y/N thought to herself. She had to get the diligent headmistress out of her mind once and for all because if she didn't her vivid imagination would play tricks on her again. Despite being aware that her crush on Larissa was almost certainly platonic and unrequited, she couldn't help but be enthralled when looking at her. Her incredible height, her silhouette, her cold eyes and her red smile haunted her every day like the monsters in her nightmares. And she couldn't escape from her either.

-Miss Y/L/N. What do you think? I'm very interested to know your opinion on this matter. -Larissa's soft voice brought Y/N out of her fantasies.

Wow, it's time to improvise again, Y/N reflected. She knew that they were still talking about the same topic and used her ingenuity to try to get out of the situation.

- You have a golden beak, Y/N. -Larissa praised her, showing off her perfect pearly teeth. -Your wisdom and inventiveness never cease to amaze me.

Hearing the compliment that came from Larissa's lips, Y/N couldn't help but blush and emit a sincere and wide smile at the same time. This reaction did not go unnoticed by the headmistress, who found it tremendously moving. Larissa suddenly looked at her companions and radically changed the subject. She couldn't be so unprofessional and show that deep down the young teacher Y/N Y/L/N was her little weakness.

After an hour of proposals and debates Larissa ended the meeting. Y/N was about to leave the room when she noticed the shadow of the tall woman closing over her.

- Y/N, could I speak to you in private? -Larissa asked politely as she tilted her head.

The young woman got lost in the woman's blue gaze and once again she had to rid those longing fantasies away from her mind. After all, it was a passing infatuation resulting from her dreamy nature.

When the two women were left alone in the large office, Larissa gently placed one of her long hands on Y/N's shoulder, who seemed to perceive a tender admiration in the headmistress' eyes. Suddenly, Y/N noticed a certain electric tension in the air and thought it was strange that her bodies were so close in such an empty room.

- I always appreciate your original point of view, Y/N. Thank you for helping me make this school a better place for the entire Nevermore family. -Larissa spoke those words lovingly as her hand rested on Y/N's shoulder. - And in case you didn't know, you are wearing your jacket backwards.

Y/N got a goofy smile etched on her face. How was it possible that she had not noticed this detail? She was sure Larissa thought she was a total mess.

Although for Y/N the day had only just begun.

[jetra4ivor]

3-4 of my posts regarding the Minecraft Movie have gone viral. And as someone who has never had a post go viral before I gotta say…

I do not like it.

Maybe on other websites it’s not a big deal, but here on tumblr it is a nightmare.

The biggest issue is that it’s really hard to filter the reblogs and be able to respond to things. If I’m like scrolling down through the reblogs to see what people are saying or writing, the SECOND a new reblog or like comes in tumblr INSTANTLY jumps me back up to the top. Because tumblr wants me to see that someone new is reblogging my posts.

And when you’re only dealing with 1 or 2 new reblogs or likes every few minutes or hours… not a problem.

But when it’s literally multiple times a SECOND? Omg… I can’t scroll down. I can’t keep up. It’s just CONSTANTLY snapping me back up to the top and I can’t scroll through anything and see what people are saying!!!

I was hoping after a few days it would slow down… BUT IT HASN’T. The only way I’ve been able to respond to anything lately is by manually finding the individual posts or reblogs themselves and scrolling through the comments there instead.

The second issue is that tumblr keeps your post as it was reblogged. Even if you edit the post later to fix a spelling or grammar mistake, tumblr keeps the incorrect version of the post if that was reblogged before you corrected things.

And for example, in one of the viral posts my phone auto corrected “Piglins” to “pigeons.” And I didn’t notice it at first until the post was well into being viral and someone pointed it out. But even after I corrected the mistake, it had been reblogged so many times now that the incorrect version is all anyone sees. So I’m still getting people telling me I wrote it wrong LONG after I already fixed it 😭

I post primarily about gay MCSM content. Specifically involving female Jessie and Petra. I don’t generally post about other Minecraft stuff, as I try to keep my blog focused on MCSM related content. I probably wouldn’t mind too much if going viral meant more people saw some of the gay MCSM content I reblog or talk about…

But none of the viral reblogging has transferred over into any of my other posts. Which is sad because one of the viral posts is about people talking about how good MCSM is. After nearly a decade of people talking down on MCSM it’s so fantastic to see so many people stepping up and defending it and saying it was good… but none of that positivity is spreading into any of my other posts about the game!

You guys actually liked MCSM? Please… come into the MCSM fandom! Inject your love of the game into this fandom! We NEED you here! We’ve felt so isolated and small! Where have you all been? Why won’t you join us here and create new art or talk about your favorite characters or moments?

Why hasn’t any of my viral success transferred into more fans of the game joining the MCSM community? 😭 It’s so gratifying to see the love of MCSM in the comments to the Minecraft Movie trailer… why isn’t that resulting in more people coming into the fandom on tumblr?

Don’t get me wrong… it’s nice that people liked some of my posts enough for them to go viral. But the way tumblr works makes going viral really difficult to deal with and I’m not seeing the cross pollination of MCSM fans into any of the OTHER posts I’ve made about MCSM!

I just want more people talking about the lesbian block people! You came here for the Minecraft Movie Trailer dissing… please stay for the lesbian block people!

[pearwaldorf]

I have been trying to write this on and off for a while. I figure the second anniversary of the show is as fine an occasion as any to shove it out into the world. It is not everything I want to say about it, but I think the important bits are there.

It is a human impulse to be seen. To be told, through art, you are not alone. It is universal, but of special importance to people who are not well-represented in media (i.e. everybody who isn’t cis, white, able-bodied, skinny, and conventionally attractive).   

This show speaks to me as a queer person who figured things out later than most of my peers. (Not quite as late as Ed and Stede but not terribly far off either.) It’s not super common to see queer media address this, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that reassurance until I got it. That it’s okay to find these things any time in your life. To be told “A queer is never late, they’re always fashionably on-time.” 

They’re not my first canon queer ship. But they are the first ones where I knew it was true from the get-go. Multiple people assured me this was the case. And yet, I still didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes. This experience is not unusual for fans around my age.  

After I finished up season one, I laid in bed and cried. It’s not something I thought would affect me so much, but it feels like a weight I’d carried so long I didn’t realize it wasn’t supposed to be part of me is gone.

One of the reasons people unfamiliar with the fandom seem to think it’s absolutely crazy (which some of it is, to be fair, but every fandom has that) is the way fans of the show get extremely super intense about it. It took me a few weeks to realize this is a trauma response. I’m not even sure “trauma” is the right word. It doesn’t interfere with my day to day function, but it lasted for years. Decades. So it was definitely something that fucked me up. And in the way you can only start to see something as you’re moving past it, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get my head around this. (I don’t know if I have anything to say about it yet. Maybe I need more time to sit with it.)

I know this sounds contrary, but I’m really glad David Jenkins does not come from fandom. Sometimes it’s good to know where a line is, and others it’s better to not know there’s a line at all. And this is, sad to say, remarkable to somebody who has had to deal with this for so long. With so many writers and showrunners aware of the line, and getting right up next to it, but never crossing it.

Imagine doing a show with a queer romance and not understanding why this was received with such emotion and fervor, because it’s just two people in love right? What blissful ignorance that this needed to be explained to him! And then he listened to people’s experiences with queerbaiting, and went “Oh my god you thought I was going to do WHAT?” And then you go “Huh. That is really fucked up.” 

The problem with being told something enough, even though you know it’s wrong, is you start to believe it regardless. All the excuses and hedging. It’s so very difficult to do they tell us, when we hear from queer creators how they had fight tooth and nail to make it as gay as it already was. 

And then comes Jenks, just yeeting it out there: majority queer and (not and/or. and) POC cast, an openly non-binary person playing an openly non-binary character. The ability to not have to make one queer (and/or) POC character speak for everybody, so you can inject a tiny bit of nuance into the conversation. The way you can tell more kinds of stories, like the one where the smol angry internalized homophobe comes into his own with the support of a queer community, even though he was a giant fucking asshole to them before.

So many people were like “You can just DO that? It’s really that easy?” And wasn’t that a fucking Situation, to have that curtain pulled aside. What next? Majority POC casts with stories about POC written by POC? Absolute madness. (Please please watch The Brothers Sun on Netflix. It’s so fucking good.) 

And people will scoff and say “Of course a cishet(?) white man would be able to get this pushed through.” But do they usually? The thing I don’t think people understand about allies is they use their privilege to wedge the door open. You still have to do the work to get through, but at least you have a place to start. And it really fucking matters.

The press keeps trying to tell me The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is the OFMD substitute we need while we float in the gravy basket. I’m sure it’s a perfectly fine show, but I don’t know who has watched OFMD and decided the itch we needed scratched was anachronistic historical comedy.

I want stories written by people that reflect their lived experiences, with actors and crew committed to bringing that to life. And I would like streamers and studios to commit to giving them a chance, and marketing them properly so people know they exist. 

You can keep people satisficed with scraps for only so long. At some point, somebody is going to give them a whole seven course dinner and people will wonder why they’ve been putting up with starving this entire time.

[ravenelyx]

I love you in every timeline - Chapter 1: My Love Is As a Fever, Longing Still

← Prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 14.9k

Chapter Warnings: angst, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name usage for reader (only a few blank spaces), use of 2nd person for the reader, Sebastian is confused and doesn't know how to handle his feelings, and he's also struggling with his personality, veeeeery slow burn

Summary: "He couldn't risk being emotionally stuck somewhere he didn't belong just because his heart was grieving and crying out for a memory of the girl it broke and pieced itself back together for. He couldn't do that to you. He couldn't do that to himself. He couldn't do that to her". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: this is long, and more is to come. It's gonna be a very slow burn apparently, but I hope you will like it. Finally Chapter 1 is here, it's been a while. Also, as much as I love fanon! Draco and Pansy, I decided to follow a more canonical approach here, sorry. Again, english is not myfirst language so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes. Never am I going to write about time travel again,my brain hurts.

I also made a playlist inspired by this because why not.

You can find the whole fanfiction here on ao3

"My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please." - William Shakespeare, Sonnet 147

You weren't her.

Then who the hell were you?

You briefly smiled at Sebastian and then turned back to the red-head, squinting. "Do you have the book or not?"

Ron gulped, avoiding your eyes. "It's probably in my dorm or something... I didn't have class, so I didn't take it with me."

"In your dorm, isn't that right?" Your eyes narrowed even more if that was even possible, and Sebastian was pretty sure you were about to hex him on the spot. Your leering didn't go unnoticed by either of the two Gryffindors and Hermione’s throat bobbed ever so slightly, eyes widening a little in alert.

"Well, as I said—"

"Here," interrupted Hermione suddenly, voice slightly squeaking. She looked into her bag and extracted her own copy of Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants. "Use this in the meantime. I take notes on the book too, unlike Ronald here, so it should compensate."

You accepted the book, seemingly calming down a bit. “Thank you, Hermione,” you said, enunciating her name sarcastically as you shot the other boy a nasty look, and Sebastian couldn't help but feel a touch of schadenfreude as Ron hung his head low, cheeks as red as his hair.

“I said I'll give it back,” said Ron, scowling. “It’s not like you need it anyway. Sprout doesn’t even make us open books!”

You politely smiled at Hermione, your eye slightly twitching at his remark, before said smile turned into a sneer as you looked at Ron again. “Then what the hell is taking you so long?"

Hermione sighed softly, dejectedly, and Ron shrinked on himself, sending Sebastian an unconfident look. But that only seemed to propel you to continue.

"And most people do open books for Herbology, my dear Ron, but I don’t expect you to know that. You’re too busy trying to find ways to whine and beg others to help your lazy ass later when they have other, more important things to do.”

Sebastian saw it happen, in a gradual, torturous slowing of time. There was something about you, in the way your lip quirked up, in the way your brows furrowed, giving life to that crease. Something that you couldn't stop, washing over you like a tsunami, drowning any possible thought of rationality and empathy. Control, in that moment, was appearance and nothing more.

He felt, for a moment, afraid; chilling his veins until goosebumps raised on his skin: a thrill, as if she was there. As if he was watching her unleash that godly power in all her beauty.

You were still, hands clammy at your sides, as he could see you open and close them repeatedly, and you weren't gloating. It was different; like that thick, foggy feeling that floods your brain when your opponent misses a step whilst casting Protego, or opens their arm a bit too much, making it easy for a well-aimed Stunning Spell to pass through, and it makes your cheeks turn red and your chest flutter, and Sebastian saw that twinkle in your eyes as you ignored Hermione’s pleading look.

The same thrill that makes his heart tug when he inevitably, nimbly raises his wand back. When the spell goes right where he intended it to go, and the deaf sound of a wand hitting the floor fills his ears.

It was that innate human side that took pleasure in pain. That part that could turn from a lambent glow into a Fiendfyre if you're not careful. Or if you really put your mind to it.

But you weren't duelling.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what to make of the way with which you were slandering your — he supposed — friend. And in front of him, too. It made him slightly tremble, his lip slightly twitch. Part of him wondered if he was invisible, part of him felt a little too alert, part of him pitied the girl in front of him.

And while it seemed Ron and Hermione were just as shocked, they had a sort of weary gleam in their eyes. And any attempt at smoothing things over was futile. Hermione feebly tried to intervene. “Oh, we don’t need to go further—”

“You see Ronald, for a Prefect you should really put some thought into the impression you’re making on new students, not to mention the one you should give of our school—” you ignored her and sarcastically gestured towards Sebastian, who felt his breath hitch at the sudden spotlight put on him, “and yet, you’re always so comfortable acting like a dimwit . Pull yourself together and be responsible for once.”

Ron’s jaw fell open, completely at loss for words at your harsh words, and he shared a look with Hermione that Sebastian was able to understand completely.

What the hell just happened?

He couldn't agree more.

“I think you’re overreacting,” said Ron sternly.

“I think you’re disrespectful,” you replied just as eagerly.

“Alright, that’s enough!” said Hermione, putting herself between the two Gryffindors. “It so happens we have a guest here!”

Sebastian felt his heartbeat quicken ever-so-slightly as both you and Ron turned to him like you had just seen him for the first time. He shifted his weight uncomfortably; an attempt to get rid of that eerie shiver that ran down his spine as your incensed gaze fell on him.

That seemed to snap you out of it, and your cheeks flushed a bit in regret. “Fair enough...” you muttered, nodding at Sebastian. “Sorry.”

He nodded back, unsure about what to do as he shifted his eyes between you and Ron, letting them linger on your face each time he looked at you. Your nose had that same curve he always wished he could kiss, run his lips over with reverence… He shook the thought out of his head immediately.

“I should receive an apology as well,” muttered Ron, and Hermione nudged his arm as a warning not to add fuel to the fire.

"You have one day. Just one." You gave Ron an ultimatum, your tone sharp and, Sebastian thought, quite frightening. He hoped to never find himself in Ron's place. “And don’t expect me to help you ever again, I'm tired of it!”

You didn’t wait for an answer and began to walk away, only stopping briefly to look at the Slytherin boy. "I wish you the best of luck, especially if he— " you glanced at Ron again "—has to be the one guiding you through this maze they call a school."

Sebastian gasped and opened his mouth to reply, but his words seemed to be stuck somewhere between his throat and his tongue. He let his eyes fleet over your face again, heart beating out of his chest as he tried to make out your features, like in a dream.

"I hope we'll meet again soon enough." You forced a smile on your face that looked almost guilty and embarrassed, and with that, you were gone.

His eyes followed you until you turned a corner and vanished from his sight, thoughts racing at a hundred miles an hour — questions with no answers clouding his mind more and more each second. Who were you? Why did you look like her? And above all, why did you bear her family name?

Even after the theatricals that he had just witnessed, there was a certain hope in his heart: traitorous and wrong. A hope that she was really there, somewhere, waiting for him. A hope he immediately wanted to crush as soon as the image of your eyes and red robes flashed in the window of his vision again.

Sebastian Sallow was utterly, completely, absolutely losing his mind.

He was aware of the gravity of his situation — his body still spasmed uncomfortably every now and then as a result of having travelled through space and time — but, Sebastian realised, it felt more like a trance. A painfully aware and too tight reverie he couldn't find a way out of. After all, just the night before, Natty had asked him if he wanted to take part in Summoner's Court with her the next day, hadn't she?

And just a few hours after that, Sebastian had decided to try his last chance, opening the artefact that, he had believed, would bring him back to a time where her sister wasn't cursed — a time he could have avoided the disaster. And not just one at that.

He took a deep breath, willing the halls of Hogwarts to become brighter in his vision, more real. He was indeed in the future, he repeated himself, his ribcage evidently too small to contain the excruciating throbbing he felt in his chest. He had to accept that. He did. Probably.

“Bloody hell!” Sebastian heard Ron mutter as he also stared at the point from which you had just disappeared. “What was all that for?”

“Honestly, Ronald…” said Hermione curtly. “We’ll deal with this later.”

Still, Sebastian felt painfully calm at his situation: the sort of calm that he only experienced when he knew he was in trouble and couldn't do anything about it, or when he knew he was in trouble and had the solution for it lying in his hands, teeming down his throat like a treacly and old pint of Butterbeer, or a briquette of ice, whipsawed by the choice of safely travelling down his stomach and melt and leave him warm and satisfied or change direction and chill his lungs and cut his breath and bring him to a freeze.

What would Sebastian, a calm and collected person (and he believed he was, or tried, at least), do in a similar situation?

Two options came to his mind, clear and painfully bright.

To freak out completely until he was in shambles on the floor, addled and ready to break himself and cut the edges of his persona to fit into the new reality he now essentially belonged to, though he still didn't feel like it.

Or estrange himself from said reality, seeing it through lenses, analysing the world around him as if he weren't there until he found a way to go back, like a spectator, a reader. And he was indeed a reader.

In a way, the very core of one was tantamount to the other — both would completely destroy him. And Sebastian Sallow could not allow himself to be destroyed. Not like this.

But then there was another, the one Sebastian desperately willed himself to adopt, keeping his edges glued to himself and the lenses away from his perfectly working eyes.

The one he followed when everyone had lost hope for Anne.

And that was any option available, and every rational thought, even if the sound of them — or anything else, really — was still drowned by the loud pounding of his heart reverberating at the thought of the girl who just flipped his world upside down.

“What did you say her name was again?” Sebastian asked the two students, his eyes never leaving the corner you had just turned.

Ron and Hermione both looked at him with surprise; Ron opened his mouth with a scowl, as if about to make a snarky remark, but Hermione interrupted him, repeating your name calmly.

That was indeed the name.

And so he tried to be as rational as possible.

“Thank you,” said Sebastian quietly, lips parted, gaze musing. “I’d forgotten that just there.”

You were her descendant, a hundred years from his time.

Sebastian couldn't remember her having any siblings or cousins who bore her surname, but if you did, you had to have received it from a male member of her family, didn't you? She couldn't possibly have given you her name unless she married someone from her own bloodline, and Merlin, he hated that thought.

Or she had married someone else and decided to keep her own surname instead, and, once again, Sebastian knew — it wasn't his first thought, of course, but certainly one that plagued his mind — that he couldn't have been the one she had married, because if one thing was true about Sebastian Sallow, it was that he'd have burned down the world just to get her to take his last name.

His thoughts circled back to her family, but try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint any related members from whom you might descend. He was starting to feel dizzy and sure to be on the brink of collapsing under the amount of information he was trying to process, but then Ron and Hermione pulled him out of his trance by starting to explain the rules of the castle, the classes to attend and some basic information about the Professors.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts changes every year; they say there's a curse on the chair or something," explained Ron, having calmed down a bit, and half-smiled, "so you won't have to see toad-face for long."

"Toad-what?" asked Sebastian absent-mindedly, his head still teeming with disjointed thoughts and meandering ideas which, Sebastian was sure of it, would never find a proper abode.

"Our new Professor. You'll see what I mean when you meet her for the first time."

Sebastian nodded occasionally as he listened to them talk about the other Professors, such as Snape, the Potions teacher, and also the Head of the Slytherin House. Ron kept going on about how annoying he was, trying not to show how much he was afraid of him. "You don't have to worry, though: Slytherins get special treatment from him," he said jokingly.

Ron, Sebastian decided then, was a nice fellow. He found himself wondering why you had reproached him so harshly. He had half-a-mind to ask, then, about your behaviour — and why both the two Gryffindors seemed to be far less surprised about it than he expected. He decided against it.

"Wait, what do you mean, she won't let you use spells?" Sebastian frowned as they talked about 'toad-face', alias Dolores Umbridge.

"She's from the Ministry," explained Hermione. "After what happened last year, we're sure they're doing everything they can to keep the school under control and make sure no lies—" she stroked the word sarcastically, "—are spread among the students.

"I'll explain everything later. We should focus on more important things, like your academic persona and your education," she added, noticing his confused expression.

She was definitely Prefect and worthy of her role too, at least if you went by the typical clichés.

--

The hours passed, and there wasn't a minute when Sebastian didn't think of her.

And of you.

Because the more time he spent walking, the more his rationality seemed weak and pointless.

He thought he'd go mad, her memories spoiled by your oh-so-similar but equally different features. He saw your eyes looking at him back in the Scriptorium, as she was ready to take the Cruciatus Curse rather than cast it on him. He saw a Gryffindor sitting by him in Herbology, stealing not-so-subtle glances while tending to the mandrakes. He felt like his mind was splitting in half, frustrated and embittered and close to tears as you tainted his remembrances of her.

He needed to see you again, talk to you, ask about your life, your family, your past. He needed to know every thought behind your eyes, every subtle expression towards him that could mean you recognised him, that you were her, that you remembered him, remembered your time together, that you'd follow him in all his antics, in all his mistakes, in all his choices, that your actions meant more than your words.

That you loved him as he loved you — as he loved her.

Her.

Not you.

Because he didn't need to talk to you. Because indeed your recent actions spoke louder than words ever could.

Because no matter how much Sebastian fooled himself into thinking that he wasn't alone, stuck in a world that had gone on without him for a hundred years, that she returned his feelings the way he thought she did, that somehow you'd look at him and know that she was meant for him, that you were meant for him, you weren't her . You didn't know him. You could never know him as she did, and not because he wouldn't let you in — he'd run to you even now and lay his heart open if it meant finding a faint resemblance to what it used to be — but because he couldn't allow it. He couldn't risk being emotionally stuck somewhere he didn't belong just because his heart was grieving and crying out for a memory of the girl it broke and pieced itself back together for. He couldn't do that to you. He couldn't do that to himself. He couldn't do that to her.

At that moment, Sebastian made the decision to stay as far away from you as possible.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he reached the Great Hall. He hadn't noticed that it was already lunchtime.

"Do you think Dumbledore will make a speech to introduce him or not?" asked Ron, not caring that the Slytherin boy could hear him loud and clear.

"I don't think he'd just let it go, but I hope it won't be as big as last year's," noted Hermione.

"Those were two bloody new schools, Hermione. This one must be different."

He felt like a new Honeydukes product hitting the shelves for the first time.

It turned out the Headmaster hadn't made a speech to introduce him, and Sebastian almost would have preferred it if he had, because he felt like a circus monkey sitting at the Slytherin table with a hundred eyes staring at him like he'd just broken into their home and stole a particularly rare card from their Chocolate Frogs collection. He looked around at the other tables and saw heads turning away so quickly that he was sure he would be the culprit in a mass murder with a thousand broken necks. He sighed as a girl with dark hair and green eyes sitting opposite of him handed him mashed potatoes.

"Do you want to eat or not? No one poisoned your food just because they don't know you."

Sebastian glanced at her and accepted her plate, munching his food slowly as if he didn't quite believe her.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson."

"Sebastian Sallow."

"Sallow? Never heard of that name. What's your blood status?"

He almost choked on his food at her blunt question. What kind of uncivilised conversation was this? And the way she looked at him, waiting for his answer, he knew that that question alone could decide his entire future — hopefully a short one — in that House.

"I'm a pureblood like you, I suppose," he lied, lifting an eyebrow as he blankly stared at the girl.

"I see," said Pansy, narrowing her eyes as if not fully believing him. And Sebastian knew it was probably time for him to make up a story, a lie he could tell everyone in the indefinite amount of time he was to spend among them.

He had put a great deal of thought into what wanted to tell in the past hour — he could, after all, be anyone. Anyone he wanted.

He could change his past, he could avoid his mistakes, he could pretend to be a normal boy with a normal life. He could just be.

In the end, it didn't matter, because while other people might look at him and see only a picture-perfect new student with a thirst for knowledge, he would look at himself and see the boy who tortured his friend, the boy who murdered his uncle.

They might not know, but he would.

He kept the edges tight against his body, and decided to opt for a half lie that made it easier for him to play on and not forget any details.

He told her that he wasn't from the Highlands. He told her how his parents were Professors at another magical school but died prematurely, and left him to live with his uncle, a former Auror. And he told her about his timely death as well, omitting, of course, his involvement in it.

"When he died, too, I decided to move here," he concluded simply, hiding the tremble of his lips behind a glass of pumpkin juice.

Part of him expected sympathy from her, or at least a hint of hesitation; that look he had become so accustomed to whenever people came to know about his tragic tale or something along those lines.

Surprisingly — though, for some reason, Sebastian wasn’t surprised in the slightest — Pansy Parkinson didn't seem to care at all.

"Were your parents true purebloods or filthy blood traitors like the Weasleys?" she asked instead, clearly showing where her priorities lay, and it was enough for him to know that his earlier hope that there would be no more discrimination was merely a child's prayer.

"They have magic. That's the only thing you need to know." Sebastian cut short before focusing on his food. He noticed the familiar badge on her robes and silently thanked Dumbledore for assigning him to the Gryffindor Prefects instead. At least they never judged him, not even for dwelling with time and space like a bloody idiot — though he believed he had seen a gleam of reproach in Hermione's eyes as she'd uttered the word 'misadventure .

"All right, I believe you." She shrugged.

Sebastian wasn't convinced.

Pansy nudged a boy beside her, who looked at him with his piercing grey eyes. He was pale, with sleek blond hair so light it almost looked white, and also wore a badge. He reminded Sebastian of Ominis. That must be Malfoy.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," — it hadn't been so hard to guess, though now Sebastian thought he'd rather not meet him at all — "I saw you walking around today with that skint blood traitor and that mudblood Granger. You should have been assigned to us. It's not worth it to taint your blood status by associating with such filth," he spoke venomously, a mocking tone punctuating his sentences.

Skint blood traitor. Mudblood. He was exactly like those boors Sebastian so enjoyed thrashing in Crossed Wands when they had the guts to join. Perhaps he could do the same with him — blast him with Bombarda until his hair turned black (or he went bald; any of them would do).

Sebastian didn't know why he suddenly felt like defending the honour of two people he had met that same day, but he wished he could poison his food instead.

"Maybe next time you'll be considered fit for your assigned role. I suppose all that purity didn’t take you that far this time," he replied just as rudely.

Draco Malfoy made a weird face — a mix between stunned and angry and that half smirk that had begun to creep up his face as he had expected Sebastian to agree with him, and that had died on his lips but not yet fully, and the whole thing was so comical Sebastian had to hold back a snort. Because that was not (not in a million years, no matter how many artefacts he accidentally opened) going to happen, and when Draco Malfoy realised it, he seemed to have a hard time closing his mouth back to a dignified expression.

"I'd be careful if I were you, new student. I'm a Prefect!" he threatened, squinting his grey eyes and finally gaining enough control to curl his lip into a small smirk.

Spoiled bragger, Sebastian thought.

"And what exactly are you planning to do — take points away from your own House?" replied Sebastian, smirking back, enjoying how his face turned back to that ferret-like countenance.

"We share the same dormitory. Choose your words carefully." Draco Malfoy pursed his lips, his face becoming even paler. Sebastian wondered if he had even an ounce of blood in that body of his.

"We do indeed, so I suggest you sleep with one eye open," retorted Sebastian. Part of him knew that, logically, he should have been more mature about the situation.

But Merlin, he was starting to despise the brat.

(And the other part of him was still fantasising about that Bombarda-induced vengeance).

"You think you can scare me?"

Draco Malfoy snickered, and the line of Slytherins sitting on his side began staring at the two boys with piqued interest, wondering what all the fuss was about. It was quite unusual for two Slytherins to argue so openly, and even students from other Houses had begun to turn their heads towards their direction. Two big students beside Draco Malfoy snickered, too, as if on cue. Sebastian felt a wave of repugnance at how pathetic they looked.

"Definitely not, especially when you have your guard dogs next to you." Sebastian nodded at the two students mockingly. "Tell me, does your father pay them to be by your side? They can't be that stupid to volunteer to be in your presence."

The blond appeared to want to eat him alive, while the other two took a bit longer to fully understand his words before reproducing the same angry expression. Perhaps Sebastian understood your outburst: it was indeed gratifying to pour his disdain out. Though, unlike you, Sebastian didn't feel an ounce of regret. 

"All right, Draco, enough of this," interrupted Pansy with a sigh, before giving Sebastian a hateful look. "He's a blood traitor like Weasley, and he'd better take care of his priorities."

Sebastian ignored her, focusing back on his food and already dreading the idea of having to share his Common Room and dormitory with people like that. Maybe he could sleep in the Undercroft for the rest of the year. He wondered if that place still existed at all.

Strangely enough, the aftermath was quite unsatisfactory, and Sebastian felt his cheeks warm up as he realised he had indeed acted like an immature git, stepping down right at their level. He stared at his half-empty plate, abashed.

The time passing, then, felt particularly chilly under his skin.

After he felt content enough with his lunch, Sebastian stood up, ready to meet the two Gryffindors again. He faltered a little as he looked around their table, his chest squeezing as he caught a glimpse of you. And not just a glimpse.

He watched you as you engaged in a happy conversation with a red-haired girl next to you: she scarily resembled Ron, so he deduced that she must be his sister. The two Prefects sat opposite you, and on your other side was a boy with messy black hair and round glasses.

Sebastian noticed how you tried to avoid Ron's eyes, only glancing up at him through your lashes from time to time before looking back at the girl, and he wondered if you would even apologise or if you were waiting for the red-head to do so. How proud were you? How much did you care? To which length were you willing to go for the people you loved? Sebastian felt a compulsive need to know it all, a new wave of hunger right in the pit of his stomach, completely empty even after his heavy, albeit displeasing, lunch, and ready to be fed by what all he could find about you. He needed to know every last bit of information, if it was the last thing he did in that new world.

That eerie calm chilled his bones again, moderately assuaging his desire, like a glass of cold water before supper. Sebastian realised he was stuck, so he had no rush to do exactly that. He didn't need to be greedy, to devour — though the idea was tempting indeed — and to gobble up every bit of you yet. He could feast, he could savour, he could indulge in his sumptuous meal like he deserved. And then he would find his way back, satiated beyond belief.

Now that would take his edges off.

He shook his head, derailing that tingly feeling running down his lower stomach before it nestled, and averted his eyes, instead noticing that barely anyone had left the Great Hall, and he was the only Slytherin standing. He quickly walked out of the room and rested against a column, wondering if he should wait for Ron and Hermione to finish eating and meet him, or if he should just go alone.

--

Sebastian decided to walk to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, to the Undercroft, praying it would still be there, untouched by other students. When he arrived, he saw the familiar clock, and his heart swelled in fear and anticipation as he took out his wand and flourished it like he had done so many times he practically relied on muscle memory alone.

The clock hands started to turn, and he breathed a sigh of relief as a door opened to the familiar room that he considered an analogue to his house. He stepped in carefully and looked around. The furniture hadn’t moved an inch in a hundred years, still in the same position that Ominis knew by memory. He wondered about him: if he knew Sebastian would one day disappear forever only to remain stuck in the future, if he had waited for him in that same room hoping for him to come back, or if he was glad he was gone after all.

Sebastian wondered if he would ever return to his time: if Ominis and Anne had been waiting for him their entire lives, getting old without him, and if they had hoped that they would one day see him again, and then he had another terrifying thought: what if he went back yet it was too late?

What if all of his pals were much older than him once he did? What if, upon his return, he discovered Anne still suffering the effects of the curse, or worse yet, already deceased? What if Ominis had been made to return to his family, where he would have either changed into one of them or been tortured and murdered? What if she had found someone else to fall in love and share the rest of her life with, or what if the perilous journeys she was compelled to take killed her and he had not been there to save her?

"Scourgify!" he declared, pointing his wand at various objects around him to clean them, wishing he could reproduce the same effect on his mind.

Once he was done, he sat down, leaned against a column, and put his head in his hands, breathing deeply and feeling his eyes burn.

The calm had gone, replaced by pure, utter despair and panic. It had only been a few hours since he'd found himself there, confused and startled, and he knew it would be many more until he went back — if ever.

If ever.

The thought cut at his lungs like sharp glass, drawing quiet and wet sobs. He didn't know whether the artefact could ever be repaired at all. He didn't know whether he could control it enough to go back if it was repaired. For all he knew, he'd find himself in bloody Mesopotamia, if he was lucky enough to survive another travel. Or he'd get stuck between time and space, forever embedded in the threads between realities.

Based on those thoughts alone, Sebastian felt like he should be grateful to have found himself still in Hogwarts, as safe as he could be, but he wasn't.

He missed his routine, his life, his friends. He had disappointed Ominis, but he would give anything to hear his voice now, even if he yelled at him, to see Anne even if she did not want to see him, to read their old letters over and over again, to accompany her on whatever adventure she was setting out on. Heck , he wanted to hear Headmaster Black's voice scolding him for his horrible detention record, listen to Poppy ramble about her dear magical creatures, see Garreth blow up his potions, and even wanted to hear Imelda complain about Quidditch being cancelled. He missed it all.

He spent some time there alone — he did not know whether it was minutes or hours — weeping silently to himself. His wrists copiously moved to his eyes in a weak attempt to dry his tears, which kept falling nonetheless, undaunted, wetting his cardigan and shirt and skin.

Sebastian had always prided himself in his capacity to bottle up emotions, to avoid the crying and instead channelling those goopy feelings into something more useful, like studying or spellcasting. That had backfired, and Sebastian had to learn, awfully, that doing that didn't mean those emotions wouldn't force their way out in a way or another, and after what had happened in the Catacombs, where his feelings had exploded in the worst way imaginable, he had reluctantly decided that crying alone was the best way to let them flow naturally. With that and everything that had happened to him within a few weeks, not to mention the previous events, he felt overwhelmed.

He hated it.

After drying his tears as best he could, hoping that no one would notice his glistening eyes or swollen face, he decided to leave the Undercroft and find Ron and Hermione again; they were to give him his timetable, as he would join their class starting the next day. That was before he abandoned them.

He stepped out of the room and froze in his steps. You were sitting on the ground just outside, back against the wall, focused on your textbook. You looked up once you heard a noise, and saw a dishevelled and surprised Sebastian staring straight at you.

"Oh, well, hello again, new fifth-year!" You smiled politely.

He cursed under his breath, turning his face away slightly and rubbing the back of his hand under his nose again, in case any stray tears were still present.

"'Didn't know about another secret passage in the school," you continued, apparently ignoring his actions, before muttering to yourself, "It wasn't on the Map."

"Map?" he said in a rough, unfamiliar voice, surprising even himself.

You examined him, a quizzical expression on your face. "Have you been crying?" you asked bluntly, raising your eyebrows in surprise.

Great job, Sebastian. Perfect disguise.

He felt his cheeks warm up, and he turned away again. "No... not at all." He cleared his throat, trying to find a way to switch up the conversation when his eyes fell on your book. "What are you reading?"

You frowned slightly, obviously not believing him, but understanding that he wasn't willing to talk about it, and looked back at your book. "My Herbology book. Ron gave it back to me at lunch. Finally, I’d say."

Sebastian paused for a moment, unsure whether it was appropriate to ask about what happened in the corridor, but then he felt that ache again, right above his navel, and the words slipped from his mouth without restraint. "Did you two—"

"Don't." You interrupted him and averted your eyes, staring down at the cover musingly. "Don't bring it up again. That was already embarrassing as it was."

Sebastian stayed quiet, his eyes never leaving your form. He would very much have liked to just plunge into your brain at that moment and make himself at home there.

Perhaps he needed to add 'Learn Legilimency' to his to-do list.

"How so?" he asked at length, quite stupidly, he realised.

"I lost my temper," you said simply, and forced your eyes back towards him. Your next words seemed to eject out of your mouth painfully, like they were unfamiliar to you, and it took a while for you to utter them. You sighed, "I— I suppose… I owe you an apology."

An apology never felt so forced and so sincere at the same time. "Oh, you don't have to—"

"I do. It wasn't the best impression I made of myself." Your lips parted as you leaned your head back on the wall. "I suppose I have to apologise to Ron as well — properly, I mean."

Sebastian stayed quiet, observing you curiously. Why were you telling him all that? "I... suppose," he uttered, not knowing what else to say. That appeared to be enough for you because you didn't even seem to acknowledge his words.

"He was looking for you, you know? Hermione, too. They said they needed to give you your schedule."

"Ah, yes, they mentioned that before," said Sebastian, glad to change the topic. "I’ll meet them promptly then, I was—"

"—Too busy hiding in a place no one else knew about," you continued for him.

That made him still in his steps, a chill running down his spine. Your eyes met: his open wide, yours unwavering and daring him to contradict your statement.

Perhaps the previous topic was way better.

"I just..." Come on, Sebastian, think!

"I just stumbled upon it!"

Usually he was one to conjure lies out of thin air, but being around you made his brain seem to melt. Sebastian thought that it was because he didn't really want to lie to you, or perhaps it was because, with the way your eyes pierced him, he felt as if you already knew all his secrets, all his lies, and you certainly wouldn't be fooled, not even if he made up a whole story full of intricacies and chapters worth publishing.

He knew, however, that the answer was neither, and it lay deeper than anything he was willing to admit to himself so loudly that he had to face it.

"Right."

You closed your book and stood up, facing him. He couldn't read your expression properly, but he felt his body start to uncharacteristically shrivel at the intensity with which you stared him down. He was in Ron's place.

"Strange, isn’t it? how the new student suddenly stumbles upon a secret room on his first day — a room not even Fred and George know about."

You had spoken that last part quietly, as if only to yourself. In fact, Sebastian didn’t know who Fred and George were at all. And, frankly, he didn't want to. "What can I say? I’m full of surprises," he replied smoothly.

"Or full of lies." You hadn’t missed a beat.

It was frightening how easily you had switched back to the girl he had met in the corridor. And he pitied it. And he liked it. And perhaps he was a fool for liking it, and an even bigger fool for pitying it. "I didn’t know it was illegal to be in this room," he said, scowling.

"Illegal? Oh, not at all. But certainly unusual for someone who has supposedly never set foot in this school before."

You took a step towards him, and he had to fight the urge to take one back himself. There was something wrong in the air — something goopy and misty and heavy, penetrating his skin like Mallowsweet fumes, inebriating and dizzying and frighteningly close to losing control. He had only felt it once, in Hogsmeade nonetheless. Electric and impatient, but, now, shrouded. That day, it had been galvanising. Now it was almost shy — almost… veiled.

"Hermione told me that she barely only took you through the first two floors. You're not even supposed to know about the classroom's whereabouts, and yet you seem all too comfortable with your surroundings," you continued, unaware.

He felt his heartbeat accelerate. Why did you have to be so inquisitive? Was he supposed to tell you the truth now?

Dumbledore’s voice came back to his mind: "...unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I don’t know what you're talking about. It was an accident, as I said," replied Sebastian in a poor attempt to reason again, knowing full well you wouldn't believe him.

"Certainly a convenient one." He twitched involuntarily, like he had just got a shock. The corners of your lips lifted in a sneer. "You are an interesting case... Sebastian, was it?"

He nodded hesitantly and narrowed his eyes, baffled at your countenance and your confounding words. An interesting case?

You shuffled on your feet in a nimble movement and pressed your back against the wall again, leaning onto it. "Don’t forget to show me that room sometime, too."

"And why would I do that?" Sebastian was growing impatient at your behaviour, while some part of him was thrilled at your nonchalance. The more you bantered with him, teasing him like that, the more he felt his stomach flutter. He hated himself for it.

He felt a sudden urge to leave. To run to his Common Room, or back into the Great Hall, where the noise cramming his ears would be enough to shut down each and any possible much-too-loud beat of his heart, as if the mere sound of those tiny pulses would beguile him into wandering proscribed feelings. A deceit of his own body he wasn't willing to face, not even through his love of the forbidden. The hunger and ache had to stay just that: mere curiosity, more about her and her family than you.

But he stayed in the silence of the corridor, with a loud pounding noise in his ears.

"Because it would be a shame if other people in, let’s see, higher power were to know about it, too, wouldn’t it?" You moved a hand through your hair to push it back, clearing your vision, and Sebastian watched as your locks fell around your face, a twinge in his chest. "Although I do believe Professor Flitwick would love to have another room for his choir practice. Is there a good acoustic in it?" You peered over his shoulder and towards the now closed door with a playful smile, clearly only teasing him, but the way the light fell on the tresses framing your visage was a bit too familiar to him. His mind stalled for a moment, and he didn't want those beats to stop anymore.

"Why do you care about this room so much?" Sebastian shifted his weight, now taking a step forward as well, and your eyes flickered down when you perceived the movement. Your lip twitched a bit.

"Why do you?" You simply replied, shrugging. "A secret room is a secret room. Don't you want to be a proper new student and get in good with the Professors?"

Sebastian felt his stomach boil at your singsong tone. "That seems to be more of a Gryffindor trait."

"Is it? And how much does a supposed stranger know about our Houses?"

His breath hitched and his resolve crumbled immediately at your quick retort. Sebastian warmed all over and stilled in his steps, feeling a bit too heavy on his legs. The image of the girl who lost her temper in the corridor was the one he had expected to evoke, pity even, yet she was nowhere to be found as your half-lidded gaze stared at him impishly.

"Besides," you continued, clearly feeding off his reaction with increasing confidence. "You should really get to know your Slytherin peers a bit more. Hopefully you won't become like them, but alas if you do, you'll end up snitching on this place yourself."

The thrill gradually disappeared, replaced by unadulterated annoyance. He found himself lowering his head, and he glared down at you, heart pounding in his ears. Your eyes stayed unwavering in his, though Sebastian noticed your crossed arms tightening marginally around your chest. "You can only wish to be like us," he hissed.

As you lifted an eyebrow daringly, he stepped forward again, finally free of that marbly perception that had spread through his body at your mockery, and towered over you. You tilted your head up, eyes never leaving his, the red and gold making them stand out in a way that only sent a new wave of anger through Sebastian's bones.

You could only wish to be like her.

"My dream in life."

Your voice rustled softly against your teeth, stretching with the smirk you wore, daring him to retort again. Sebastian felt it spread before he could even process your words entirely, burning through his guts all the way up to his trembling hands. That hunger. Craving. Ache. And something else — something that made the corners of his mouth tingle and his head tilt forward slightly more. He inhaled deeply from his nose, breathing out gratingly, air straining against his throat.

"Shall I serve as your future proxy and tell the faculty about it now?" you continued, voice glottal and purring, faring on the satisfaction of his heavy breathing on your face. "Might save you time ahead."

A low chuckle left his lips. "Even if you told the faculty about it, I could always pretend you were the one who showed it to me and kept it a secret all this time. After all, I am the new student, aren’t I?"

He grinned to himself as your smile fell slightly, squinting as you looked at him, but it only lasted a moment before you spoke again.

"And why, pray tell, would anyone believe that I would fraternise with a Slytherin enough to show said person a secret room?" You leaned your head on the side, and Sebastian’s heart jumped again. "And why would I turn myself in, given I would have, supposedly, kept my room hidden for five years?"

"It's my room," replied Sebastian lowly, instinctually, voice slightly trembling, blood rising to his head. Despite the height difference, he was starting to feel smaller and smaller every time you spoke, crushing his resolve word by word. It made him shrivel. "I knew it before. You're not welcome in it, nor is it any of your business."

"You knew it before," you repeated blankly, like you didn't care. "So you’re admitting to having learnt about this place already?"

What?

A heartbeat, a glint in your irises, and Sebastian's heart dropped pathetically as he realised he had given you exactly what you had been searching for — what you had wanted him to admit all this time. He shifted his weight back, leaning away from you. "No, I never said—"

"—I believe the Professors know about your true history — especially Dumbledore, you can't trick that one — so I know they won’t be fooled," you continued undaunted to shut each and every one of his possible retorts. "Plus, even if you told them that lie after I snitched on this place, they’d still let it go and take control of this room — Filch in particular. I won’t get into trouble just for keeping an insignificant room secret, but you would lose your special place."

His mouth fell open, for once at a loss for words. He could only stay silent as you threatened to reveal his hidden spot with that undeterred ragging tone of yours. Sebastian would usually brush off any threat against him, especially if it involved getting the help of teachers of all people — he was known for breaking rules on any occasion — but he couldn't ignore your words. He knew you had no idea how much that room meant to him; would you have cared if he told you? Would you have taken your words back? Why would he care if you had? He had promised himself to stay away from you, and that was exactly what he was planning to do. This conversation had gone on for too long.

"Who—Who says it's my special place?" Sebastian tried to salvage it, although his disingenuous and trembling voice betrayed him almost immediately.

"You reek of dust and humidity," you said with a satisfied smile, as if insouciantly waiting to shake his hand after your checkmate. "As if you've spent a lot of time in there just now. Also, no student in Hogwarts with more than a pea for a brain would ever refuse the comfort of a secret room no one has discovered yet."

You had deduced it... by his smell?

Sebastian had still been processing when you gathered your things and looked back at him, breaking into a genuine smile. "You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, and mind you, there are a lot of them in this school, so you'd better get used to it."

The corner of his lips quirked up against his will, heart gradually slowing down again. "Well, you did just threaten me in a way."

You chuckled — an unfeigned, carefree chuckle with no malicious hint — and shrugged. "I was never going to snitch on you, that would have been incongruous. I just wanted to see how this would go."

"I don't follow," he said at length, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow at that. "Were you just playing with me?"

Sebastian didn't know why he had asked. It had been quite clear since you started talking that you had only run rings around him like he was a bloody amateur. He chewed on the insides of his cheeks in chagrin. You averted your eyes with a smile still on your face, and Sebastian wasn't sure whether to feel impressed or annoyed.

"Call it an investigation." You raised your hands in surrender. "I’m no Sherlock Holmes, of course, but..."

"Sherlock who?"

"He... Never mind." You shook your head, and looked back at him for a moment, biting your lip as if facing a conundrum. You sighed. "The thing is, from your perspective my threat should've appeared empty, or unfounded, because, as you said, the Professors would have believed that I was the one who showed you the room, as a more experienced student."

Sebastian listened intently, growing more confused the more you spoke. "Wait, so—"

"So, if you had nothing to hide and had really just found out about the room, you would've been less... defensive ," you explained, and Sebastian found no contempt in your voice: it was neutral, a bit excited maybe, but not mocking — perhaps only a little condescending, he noted bitterly. "Or, more specifically, you would have been defensive about me being out of line rather than about the room itself — more annoyed , I believe, at the fact that I got all up in your personal business uninvited."

The way you spoke, with unalloyed certitude and indisputable pride — though with an almost riveting aspect in your self-assurance, if he dared to admit it — seemed almost preposterous to Sebastian.

"Also," you continued, "if you had really stumbled upon it so easily, you would've been more shocked about the fact that no one else in the school had, wouldn't you?"

That actually... Made sense.

“What if I were just a new student who had accidentally found a room,” began Sebastian hesitantly, although he couldn't stop himself from being rather dazzled — and envious. And definitely ill at ease at your aptitude at reading people — him specifically. “And had completely panicked when another more experienced student threatened to reveal me as if I had done something horribly wrong?”

You looked at him, eyes shifting between his right and left one in a sequence. “Yeah,” you finally countenanced with a blithe nod. “That would have been perfectly plausible, too.”

Sebastian’s face fell, exasperated beyond measure. He suddenly felt a wave of lassitude wash over him and let out a world-weary sigh that earned him a small smile from you.

"Just know that you don't know me as much as you think you do," he said at length.

“I don’t know you at all,” you confirmed with a bright smile. “But I definitely enjoyed this. "

You pointed between the two of you, and Sebastian faltered, following your hand with his eyes for a moment before his gaze fixed on you again. "What?"

"It's just… I didn't lose my temper this time, and... well — it was sort of... nice."

Nice. The word you had used was nice. Sebastian found it anything but that: it had been humiliating to say the least. But again, he was the loser.

"You didn't lose your temper alright," said Sebastian, looking away. "Though we may need to get even on that."

Your eyebrows lifted and you broke into a giggle. "Yeah, perhaps. Even if I'm sure I'm not as much of a smooth talker when you’re not in… well… emotional distress." 

To his own surprise, Sebastian smiled back, genuinely and widely and almost tenderly, letting his chest tingle freely and a little more than needed. "So you took advantage of me."

"That I did." You nodded at him. "It’s a pleasure doing business with you." And with that, you started to walk away, leaving him stunned but smiling in the middle of the corridor.

"Ah, before I go," you suddenly added, turning around and walking backwards, and his eyes shot to you once more; "last time I saw Ron and Hermione, they were near the Grand Staircase, on the second floor. If I meet them, I’ll send them to you."

You waved at him and turned around, walking down the stairs and disappearing from his sight.

[Read more]

Taglist:

@lovely-maryj @yuzuhasbae @mosf13 @rbfacee @prichuchan-blog @h0neeyy @lina-prongs @moonlightsolo @ninicol @gayandfairycore @nanako-sakura @epicy0n @shiro-from-cafeberry

(I'm having trouble tagging some of you, sorry :( )

[dailycass-cain]

So on January 26th yesterday,  I looked into how the comics had Cass combat her disability in Dyslexia being not able to read and relate words vocally. 

What worked, what didn't, and which era handled the progression better.

At the very core of her very first appearance in Batman #567 by Kelley Puckett and Damion Scott, Barbara Gordon is trying to help Cassandra overcome her disability.  And it is her first words spoken that give her father David Cain pause.

Batgirl Vol. 1 #2 gives us the first look into how Cass really doesn't fully care about learning in either study instead focusing on her new vigilante life. That is until running into Robinson and learning WHY words and writing truly matter.

#5 has her run across a metahuman who has mental abilities and because of those rewires her brain to have the capacity to understand.

It's a cheap copout for sure.  But it gives Cass a voice in her mind along with the capacity to speak better.  Bad news? It screws up her abilities and how her mind was originally wired.

This leads into #6-9 basically being how Cass can get her ability to read body language and learn with the added bonus of her mind continuing to be the way it is.  Enter Lady Shiva who gives her this, but at a price aka the crux of what will lead into Batgirl #25.

Batgirl Vol. 1 #20 written by Chuck Dixon (art still by Scott). Where Cass comes to a drop man who's murdered before he can deliver a ransom. Her lack of being able to read leads her to seek out--

-- one Stephanie Brown aka Spoiler.  I think at this point the reason Cass went to Steph was that she was afraid Babs would lecture her on neglecting her reading lessons (which she would later on).

Tim Drake, she had just fully befriended (#18), but he was close to Babs. So Cass probably figured he accidentally let slip this and she'd be in trouble. Steph wouldn't she was on the outside from the Bat Family (at this time).

The issue does promise of Cass in attaining another reading teacher (which pays off in the most weirdest place, Convergence: Batgirl #1), but this plot point goes nowhere here. Cass/Steph's friendship would intensify for the next ten issues (#21, 26-28).

For the most part, we don't really get to see fully Cass try and fight her Dyslexia again until the Dylan Horrocks' run with #51 where we learn HOW Cass is expanding her word vocabulary via TV but neglecting on reading.

This bit reads its crux with the infamous #54 (i.e. the one that causes Cass/Babs to fracture away from one another).

In the issue, Cass has to deal with a killer robot that's taking out any place that has a copy of a book that has the codeword to shut it down. We learn during the fight, Cass has been neglecting her studies in reading.  Again with the infamous page:

Now Horrocks did this because he was ordered to write Babs off this title (Birds of Prey, the comic Babs was primarily in would be eventually moving away from Gotham). It was the first of that would make the writer leave the comic (and DC Comics altogether).

Regardless again the way the case rattled Cass enough to think about it all and work back into trying to read.

If there was instant positive of writer Andersen Gabrych when he began his run. He made sure this was a reoccurring plot point THROUGHOUT his run starting with #58.

By giving Cass her own diary it enables her better way to try and combat her disability. Along with in the very same issue, Cass trying to actively read a book for the first time on page.

The diary motif would be a hallmark of Gabrych's entire run with the book. So I'm not gonna post every entry. But I think that's why I really loved those first few issues because he covered ALL corners with the character. 

 You saw it all.

Never once did Gabrych use behind the issues trick. This was a struggle for Cass. I think it better helped resonate the character with readers by doing so. It also went down an angle that was different than Puckett and felt like the better next step from what was built on prior.

Course Cass would still have her bad habits of being an avid TV watcher. So the balance of her trying and struggling was a nice touch.

This came to an ironic fully circle with #67 with Babs returning (for one issue) in the comic and the pair hashing out their differences and mending. But it also reveals a further reason why Babs really wants Cass to learn to read. Again, this is probably the best reason.

She knows Cass wants to be Bruce's heir and be Batman. She knows the only way to fully be that is to get fully conquer her disability. And for the second time in her ongoing we get a look in how Cass's brain was wired from her learning from her father and the metahuman.

And we get the clearest answer how Cass's brain truly operates and why the usual methods in overcoming her disability in reading.

That's the final gift Gabrych gave us. 

A hope.

 A small faint hope that maybe Cass could learn with whatever writer would take on the character next. The only thing is even he couldn't anticipate what was to come...

Batgirl was canceled with #73 and well the next time we saw Cass and how this disability was handled came in Robin #148.

Alright, before I go into this portion. Newly minted Robin writer (this was his first issue) Adam Beechen came into comics had zero idea of the character of Cassandra Cain, other than what he was told and found.

The DC Editors on Robin did not help him or assist him. They gave him an edict... and he did that edict without question. The result....

Was this INFAMOUS page from Robin #149. Cassandra Cain the character who had the disability of Dyslexia somehow was able to learn another entire language.

That's not even going with the OTHER problem Robin OYL gave us with Cass (but that's an entirely ANOTHER issue). Regardless after the story arc, Beechen (and DC) realized just how badly he screwed up.

Course, the entirety on HOW Cass was suddenly able to learn an entire language with how her brain understood information. Yeah, this was a plot thread nobody truly wanted to answer when the retcons began dropping after Cass's "EVIL" phase to fix it.

In fact, it was Beechen himself who addressed the issue in Batgirl Vol. 2 #1 amongst the CHUNKS of well exposition and history that was the mess DC made of the character from 2006-2007.

So all those issues Babs mentioned in #67? Cass and Alfred fixed them and for the entire MISSING YEAR Cass made great strides to overcome her disability. THAT'S how she was able to understand the Navajo language.

Look I get what Beechen was doing and I also get we were NEVER gonna get the missing stories to showcase that. But to see an entire character's journey in overcoming her disability fixed overnight?

Even with Beechen giving us a classmate in Sal (who's last name we NEVER learn, and is forgettable male love interest #3 for Cass) who gives us the promise of something we never get from the Vol. 1 ongoing. Because DC was gonna DC.

That's basically it for the original run for Cass. That it was a nice harrowing journey that had its bumps but the character was making great strides to be better. Then well the road bumps began to occur and yeah...

I'll give it to Beechen that he tried at the very least to fix the holes he himself caused. But... in the format given it's just crushing how this was fully handled in the end.

Sadly we got nothing more as DC really did a meh job for about five years? We did get this little nugget in Convergence: Batgirl #1 though (somehow connecting that line from waaaaaay back in Batgirl Vol. 1 #20)...

Which is shocking of all places for Cass trying to overcome her disability, Convergence: Batgirl #1 was not the place one ever would think to find that, but we had that surprisingly.

So when Cass was "reintroduced" into the DCU with Batman & Robin Eternal. A reset was in order and writers were allowed back to square one in how to deal with Cass handling her Dyslexia disability.

I will say this for James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder on how they handle putting a metahuman with mental abilities they just slot that character in #11 by introducing the Sculptor who basically fills the same void the meta in Batgirl Vol. 1 #5 did.

Much like the original metahuman, once this link is established Sculptor nopes her way out of the story and is never heard from again.

Which kind of surprises me, because it's something I figured Tynion would maybe address during his Detective Comics run (that had Cass in it) given how much in #11 and 12 establish the character and her origins. 

But nope. Nothing further.

So yeah, after this we got James Tynion IV's Detective Comics run that had Cass in it starting from #934-981.

Not surprisingly, Tynion really handled the whole disability issue well than those in the past with the constraints he had. Even more so Juggling multiple characters in this book and going down a better avenue than his predecessors.

And that all begins with #953 with Clayface (Basil Karlo) trying to comfort Cass after learning her mom is Lady Shiva.

By doing this. Tynion lays the seeds on how he'll deal with the issue on Cass combating her disability while also cementing the hallmark of this run, Clayface's rehabilitation and friendship with Cass.

#958 we see Basil teaching Cass Shakespeare by playing audio and having her learn to read and increase her vocabulary via that.

It's probably the best thing Tynion did character-wise with Cass by briefly showing us this but fully giving us a more plausible method than prior on how to deal with her disability.

The fact that this hits throughout this arc (as Cass quotes Shakespeare at a good moment) and is carried over until the very end of his run when Cass meets Barbara in #981.

This version of Cass is actively trying to combat her Dyslexia more than her prior versions, and this Cass is actively doing a better job. Even though we don’t get much Babs teaching Cass (though they do work together in the next arc after this that sets up Batman & the Outsiders). But that run doesn’t dig into Cass’s progress instead going into other routes to touch on with the character. 

Unlike what was carried over from Batgirl Vol. 1 to 2 (and between that) Cass has a more concrete subplot here. Where we can SEE and are TOLD of her progress.

That leads us into the current Batgirls ongoing. In #1. where this is a little bit lampshaded. As Cass uses a reading bag to combat criminals to retain stuff she/Steph had that was stolen.

A further bit of subplot is continued throughout and in #4 with Cass now ACTIVELY being a bookworm and reading works of Edgar Allen Poe.

Like it astonishes me that this element of the character has remained actually consistent from point A to B. But it's a nice contrast of things that creators at DC worked on better here than prior.

And no issue highlights that fight of Cass actively wanting to combat her dyslexia then "Sounds" from DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1 by Mariko Tamaki and Marcus To.

It's why Tamaki just fully GETS the character of Cass not in every corner of the character.  Why many want the writer to handle the character again.

But Tamaki isn't the only one who did a good job in showcasing Cass fighting her disability and the one that does the best job is Shadow of the Batgirl graphic novel. Where writer Sarah Kuhn and artist Nicole Goux go both literally fighting her disability.

And her actively learning to read and increasing her vocabulary by hiding in the library was absolute perfection.

But it also is a nice avenue (and nod to the past) by focusing on a library since that's the location where Barbara Gordon teaches (and again a nice nod to that character's history too).

Quite literally...

That's another layer to why I adore that graphic novel. Just the layer of dimension to BOTH characters while it gives that nod to Babs, the story is clearly more Cass. 

 Again, Kuhn modernizes everything to perfection.

So there you have the history of Cass and her disability.  And my final gift on this day (which has now passed) to celebrate the character of Cassandra Cain.

[falconearring]

Hello Falcon, first off LOVE you're AU and designs, their so unique. I was just curious and I don't think anyone's ever asked this but.. What did everyone do before the Apocalypse? Aside from Scar which you already answered. :)

Hi hi! So happy to hear you're enjoying! I think here and there I've mentioned bits and pieces of some character's pre-apocalypse lives, but never all at once. Here's a comprehensive list of everybody's prior occupations, with some supplementary info for the characters that I've thought about the most.

Etho worked on an industrial farm. He was mainly tasked with planting and harvesting vegetables, and other miscellaneous labor tasks. When he wasn't working, he spent much of his time with Cleo and Bdubs. He's notorious for leaving his flip phone on the kitchen counter in his apartment when he goes out for the day, so it can be a bit difficult to get a hold of him. In general, he's pretty content with his life, and enjoys the routine his job offers.

Joel sort of just goes through the motions. He works a number of minimum wage jobs during his adult years, and doesn't really do much else. It isn't until the apocalypse, when he starts to meet new people and he realizes being lonely sucked. If you ask him, though, he's never felt lonely in his entire life-that would just be silly.

Grian spends his late childhood learning how to cook in a local restaurant. The owner and staff look after him best they can, but despite their hospitality, he resolves one day to grab as much cash as possible and head to a seaside town to start his early adult life. There he finds a small funeral home, and lands an apprenticeship only because they could really use the help and the owner themselves isn’t particularly concerned if they have to cut corners. It isn’t long before his inexperience starts to cause problems, and he takes off yet again when it comes to light the name he had been going by was stolen from an obituary a few cities over. He continues as he was, from place to place and name to name. It’s become somewhat routine for him to cheat every person he comes into contact with, in some way shape or form.

Scar, as we discussed in this post, has an extensive criminal history. Him and Grian somewhat deserve each other in that regard.

Cleo does a lot of crafting in their free time. I don't think I ever decided what she does for work, but on the side she does jewelry making, pottery, crotchet and a bit of sewing. She often sells some of what she makes, or gifts it to friends.

Bdubs does a trades program and is just starting out doing construction work. He takes up drawing as a hobby, mainly life drawing. His two best friends are his whole entire world, baby! He somewhat struggles with his independence, and usually wants to spend his time with Etho and Cleo.

Martyn is a hypnotherapist who specializes in past and future life progressions/regressions. He also claims to be a surgeon, but it's unclear what kind or when exactly he got a PhD.

Bigb was a racecar driver. Later in his career, he switched from cars to offroad motorcycle racing. He fell in love with modifying bikes and became a really knowledgeable mechanic.

Tango was a paramedic. Not much time for anything, but when he can he usually would meet up with some of his buddies to play board games.

Ren worked at the saw mill where Etho's friends are set up. At the time, he was living in a cabin in the woods not far from his work. He was somewhat of a hermit, and he has all sorts of woodsy knowledge and equipment at the ready.

Impulse has a bachelors of engineering and worked as an electrician for a few years. Loved his job, loved having to take out all his piercings most days a lot less. He's always been very close with his brother, Skizz, and they meet up often.

Skizz worked a 9-5 office job, and genuinely could not be any happier about it. He's the type of person to make extra time to exercise, or wake up early just to have some quiet time.

Pearl was an art student on exchange from Australia. She has a passion for installation pieces and painting. Some of her work is a bit strange.

Mumbo was a programmer. What did he program? I don't know. I'm sorry Mumbo fans. If it's any consolation he is so disoriented and so scared and so stressed.

Jimmy lived on a small farm with his family. It was all he knew growing up, and it was all he really knew going into adulthood.

Lizzie had a part time job at an aquarium in her town. She gave tours and sometimes did workshops with the kids where she did aquatic themed arts and crafts.

Scott.... I have a hard time imagining what he was up to before everything happened. Who can say for sure what he did in his spare time? (<- the guy who is writing the AU and can't think of an answer)

Hopefully this is helpful! Sorry some of it is more sparse than other parts. Take care, thank you for reading ^_^

[rotdistressxox]

since it was like a week ago but OMG ACTIVE KENGAN BLOG..i legit just got back into the fandom because i was here when it hit it's peak😭 i miss that sm ngl

BUT..can i request Kanoh Agito and characters of your choice with a reader that's around the same size and them and is of equal powerlevel/skill level..

also sidenote because i had a dream about this but how do you think characters would feel if reader that was somewhat like fang (multiple wins) didn't have a style/techniques and just..makes moves up?? LIKE IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY BECAUSE YOUR SO STRONG?? JUST FOR THEM TO FIND OUT YOU DONT EVEN HAVE A..AN ANYTHING

Omg ofcourse Anon, thank you for being my first request! Ah yes, the great Kengan boom of 2020. I'm not gonna do as many characters this time around. Anyways, let's get started!

Headcanons: Kengan Men with an 'Experienced' Fighter S/O

Kanoh Agito

• When the two of you weren't together, he felt a little threatened by you. Not afraid, but threatened. There was only so many people who made he feel that way since he was still high and mighty.

• At first when he saw you fight, he thought they were some sort of forbidden moves or secret techniques.

• After later investigation, he finds out from the other fighters that you have no background in any martial arts. It's just sheer luck, strength, and wit that you have by your side.

• Can such a person exist? You had racked up so many wins just by doing that?

• Things happened, and now the two of you are dating.

• Is still confused by the whole 'winging it' thing that you do when you fight. You're very unpredictable afterall

• Doesn't feel threatened anymore by your prowess. But would rather not spar with you, only analyze.

• Being his size means you have an advantage at A LOT of things when it comes to fighting. You've gotten an earful from Kanoh that you shouldn't take what you have for granted.

• But it's the best when he's there for you after fights or seeing him in a crowd.

Ohma Tokita

• "Hahh? You think you're all that, huh"

• You have more wins than him because he was still wasn't in any Kengan matches at the time.

• Needs to see it to believe it.

• Completely shocks him when you wipe the floor with your opponent doing nothing but fancy kicks and brute strength.

• He challenges you to a fight because that can't be all, can it?

• It can

• He couldn't see any patterns in your movement, redirect your flow of energy. Nothing. He almost uses advance, you break it up before it gets any further since you didn't want to hurt him

• You bond over sparring together. Surprisingly you two make a good match.

• Ohma and you start dating before the Kengan Annihilation tournament. You happily announce that you'll be taking part in it alongside him.

• He trusts your skills, but still doesn't want to see you get hurt.

• He's glad that he's not up against you in the tournament. He also doesn't wanna hurt you, duh.

• If people insult you or your fighting 'style' when he's near, there will be blood.

Raian Kure

• Insults your fighting style despite never seeing it for himself.

• Calls you "Just a brute with no skills, how pathetic!"

• Boy is he wrong. Once you two fight, everything catches him off guard. Just as he's turned on removal, you accidentally knock him out when your leg goes to far from a kick, kneeing him on the side of his head

• "Oopsie"

• After, an unlikely friendship forms. Which soon turns into romance.

• Always has to flex that he's won several more fights than you. But then you bring up how you beat him and he gets flustered.

• Has tried many times to replicate or copy your 'style' but it's too inconsistent besides a few moves you do regularly.

• Supportive as he can be. When he's not assassinating people, he watches your fights or spends time with you.

• "That's my (Reader) assholes! Watch and learn!"

Gaolang Wongsawat

• Didn't figure out you were a fighter until after you started dating.

• Highly critical of how you fight. Even after he started to date you he wasnt 100% supportive of it. Let's say he was 95%

• You always know how to prove him wrong though.

• Tries to teach you boxing, which goes pretty well and you end up adding some to your moveset. Though, you'll still be unpredictable in the end.

• He's well aware that you and him are pretty evenly matched when it comes to power and skill. Though he always considers you lucky that your current skillset has brought you this far.

• Is proud that you've won a lot of fights. Is not ashamed to call you his.

• Gets a little freaked out while seeing you fight sometimes.

• "Did they just...yeah they did"

• Is a worry wart.

• "You sure you're okay?" "Your knuckles are bruised, do you need some ice?" "You need to rest, lay back down"

[its-a-me-mango]

I saw your post about art fight (and by the way congrats and I'm impressed by the amount of pieces you've done) and you mentioned drawing furries. I kind of never did but I want to learn, do you have any tips on drawing furries?

Hi yeah my advice is to have an older brother tell you what furries are at the age of 8 and then get completely obsessed with drawing anthropomorphic characters until the age of 18, so if you missed out on that I'm sorry. /j

Anyway, my actual advice is to get used to drawing animals in general. If you already know how to draw humans then you've already done most of the work when it comes to furries, if not thats ok you can learn as you go! I always recommend looking at other peoples work that you look up to and seeing how they do it. Learning to look and pick out shapes and features is always my best advice, it's something you learn to do as you grow but being able to pick out characteristics, shapes and all sorts of what you're looking at will massively help with your work, never be afraid to look up reference!

Simply taking the time to understand how to draw some animals can help set you up for drawing furries, you don't have to learn every single animal right off the bat, just the ones you're interested in to start off with. Once you know how to draw one or two, all the other species should become much easier to learn, or if you just wanna stick with the one species that's fine too, whatever you're happiest doing!

For example, say you wanna draw dog furries, thats fair dogs are cool! I like border collies so I'm focusing on them, look at these guys they're so fluffyyyy

Right away you can pick out some key features, the pointy ears, the medium length snout, the long fur (especially around the neck), the markings, the fluffy tail, these are all key things that make up our awesome collie dog, taking the time to practice these traits first will help you later on for drawing furries, you can practice as you go if you want but if you're starting with nothing, go basic!

Once you're comfortable with drawing animals, putting those traits onto a human shouldn't be as daunting, head goes where the head is, tail goes at the end of the spine, and fur goes all over! Obviously there are so many ways to draw furries but I'm trying to be basic to start off with! Practising with putting human emotions/traits onto animals will help a lot to refine what you're doing, your first attempts won't be pretty so don't worry about trying to make them so, they're for practice after all!

Using this as my excuse to draw my border collie SMG4 inspired OC, come look at Jay he sucks so bad, you'll never guess who he's inspired by. Again learning to mix human emotions and put them onto cartoon animal heads is hard to learn but I promise it's possible and great fun once you know how!

There's no one set of rules for furries, it's whatever you feel works best! Add and take away whatever you want, maybe you want them blue and green with horns and wings, that's totally fine! Get as creative as you want and don't be afraid to go wild, furries aren't real after all, you can do anything you want!

Furries are so expressive and unique, it's one of the many reasons I love drawing them! You can get so much diversity and variation with their design and characters, they can be as realistic or as cartoony as you want! It's always important to have fun with what you're drawing and to be okay with making mistakes, you're not going to get it first try so might as well have fun getting to a point you're happy with!

Hope my insane ramblings helped somewhat, I never know if these actually help because my advice is always just "look at reference and say "fuck it we ballin" untill it looks right", I can't teach that to anyone I have to sound like I know what I'm doing lmao

[jazeswhbhaven]

I know MCs in general can't be relatable so I rather not use that term. Many people complain about otome/dating sim MCs being unrelatable, but you can't create a default MC and be sure they can cater to everyone. It's just not possible.

I believe the correct term in this case is that the WHB!MC is unbearable. I was afraid to say this because I didn't want to disparage anyone who has a healthy libido, but I got a buddy who identifies as hypersexual and into a lot of stuff. They were curious and when I showed them this game they were interested...until I started to explain things to them

First off, they do like the demons which no brainer the art is the only saving grace here, but when I started tell them the story, bits and pieces of each of the cards, they just went: "wait what why did they make the MC drink human c*m too?" and "okay demons are hot but I'd be afraid of actually dying under a war/gunfire."

You hear that PB? Even my hypersexual friend is questioning your writing.

There seems to be a common theme when folks don't like the game when you start trying to introduce it to your friends. It's the same thing that happened with my friend groups, they simply just aren't into it and prefer other games that challenges them to use their imagination. As one friend put it, "you're giving me nothing to work with since the dick is already there for the taking."

Basically "too much too soon." "too much sex appeal not enough point" "cool but I'll get to it later"

It seems the trend I see is folks like something that barely has smut in it, softcore teases, and then gives you the freedom to cook up smut in your head that character might do but they'll never show it in the game except for maybe subtle hints and huge "implied" moments.

But that's just my observation. I've talked way too much about how I don't like Whb MC to where I think the fandom hates to see me comin' with the bullshit lol edit: and to add....when I saw this game I knew it was just gonna be a bunch of dick here dick there dick everywhere, fuck demons, pussy poppin', fisting, hey look at that another dick, have I told you there's D I C K. and I was like Okay let's go. My expectations were set, any lore or plot is a plus at this point.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

Watching this video essay about Yellowjackets and somehow HOTD came up and I saw the tweet and I roll my eyes so hard

Uh. Yeah. Bc she uses the faith (basically Catholicism or Christianity) to act as this pious queen when she is paying maids to keep their mouths shut about her own son raping them.

And she didn't just hang up some four pointed stars, if I remember, she REPLACED, the targs sygils with the faith of the seven stuff.

Alicent stans just love to forget her fanaticism until they can use it to make her look more pathetic. I have to say, accusing Rhaenyra of religious fanaticism is a new to me lmao. I've only ever seen people call her a godless whore, but I'm not on X, so maybe I've been spared.

Targaryen antis don't seem to grasp just how much of the Valyrian culture the Targaryens have given up for the sake of Westeros. Calling the Valyrian wedding ceremony an "arcane marriage ritual" is not only insulting to the Valyrian culture but also completely hypocritical.

Valyrian culture was steeped in magic, they themselves have magic in their blood. Is it any surprise their marriage customs would be the same? That's like expecting the Starks' ceremonies to happen separate from the Old Gods. The Targaryens have given up their gods, most of their magic, their language, and their marriage traditions. They never forced other people to follow their traditions, they never forbade following the Faith and the Old Gods, they fucking conformed as much as possible aside from the incest, which was the only way they know to preserve the last bit of Valyria's magic.

Alicent wouldn't be seen as a religious extremist if she didn't actively repress and hate other religions. She badmouths the Valyrian traditions, not just the incest, but also their love of dragons and their art. She removes all the Valyrian and Targaryen heraldry and artifacts and replaces them with the the symbols of a religion known for being intolerant and repressive.

As I said earlier, the Valyrian culture is dying out and the Targaryens have given up so much of their mother land. Removing the last pieces of someone's culture just because you follow a different religion is fucked up. Alicent isn't even the actual ruler or a Targaryen, it's not her place to choose to abandon their Valyrian heritage while her husband is too sick to interfere.

But the real issue of Alicent's actions are her motivation. She doesn't actually care about morality and her own religion, she cares about supporting Aegon and undermining Rhaenyra. That's why she criticizes Valyrian incest then turns around and forces Helaena to marry Aegon. That's why she calls Jace and Luke savages when her own son bullies his siblings constantly and later rapes women. That's why she harps on about honor and decency while actively protecting and covering up the actions of a rapist, a murderer, and a kinslayer. That's why she removes the Valyrian heraldry while Rhaenyra is gone and replaces them with the symbols of the Faith.

She's literally the definition of the hypocritical woman for Trump. She harps on and on about morals then turns around and does reprehensible things for her own gain. She complains constantly about a culture different from hers and actively tries to remove its influence. She hates people who don't conform to her ideas.

Alicent isn't a good person, period. She's a hypocrite, constantly upholds the patriarchy, sacrifices others for the sake of her interests, and is xenophobic. The efforts to take her flaws and project them on other characters, usually Rhaenyra, by her stans is ridiculous and really shows how little they actually like her character. They like her aesthetic and the idea of a perfect suffering victim.